Part 20 (1/2)
Her opposite number among the security team was saying much the same thing, judging by the sudden tightening of their ranks. One enormous Weequay raised his right hand to give the signal to attack.
At that moment, Larin's comlink buzzed.
She froze, unable to fire and answer at the same time. What was more important: the last shots she might ever fire in her life, or the last communication she might ever receive?
The Weequay had frozen, too. A blue-skinned Twi'lek had appeared at the far end of the room, waving and shouting something in a language she couldn't understand.
”Can you follow that?” she asked Jet.
He shook his head. ”Sounds important, though, whatever it is. ”
No one was coming for them at that moment, so she took the opportunity to put her rifle aside and reach for the comlink.
”Larin, it's me, ” said s.h.i.+gar. ”Where are you?”
”Right where you left me. Tell me you've got a flip card up your sleeve. ”
”I might just have. Has Ta.s.saa Bareesh sent anyone to you yet?”
She peered out at the ma.s.ses of security guards. ”You could say that. ”
”Go wherever they take you. I know what she has in mind. ”
”You want me to surrender?”
”It won't be surrender. We, ah, reached an agreement, she and I. ”
Larin didn't like that moment of hesitation. What if he was under duress and walking her into a trap?
She asked him, ”Do you remember lightning season on Kiffu, when the static trees take to the air?”
”What-? Yes, I do. Spark-dragons lure them into caves to steal their charge. I'm not setting you up, Larin. You can rest easy on that score. ”
”All right, ” she said, keeping a close eye on the leading Weequay. He was yelling at the Twi'lek and brandis.h.i.+ng his ma.s.sive fists. ”You'll be where they take us?”
”Count on it. ”
She put down the comlink and turned to Jet. He had heard everything.
”I will admit, ” he said, ”that I prefer resolutions that involve talking rather than shooting. ”
”So you think we should do this?”
”I do. And Clunker agrees. ”
The droid looked as though he was fully prepared to shoot his way out, but nodded stiffly.
”Hetchkee! Put down your rifle. When I say so, we're coming out. ”
”Uh, yes, sir. ”
”Wait for the signal. If we get the timing right, I think we've got a good chance of surviving this with a little cla.s.s. ”
The Weequay shook his hands overhead one last time, then let them fall to his sides. The Twi'lek looked satisfied. The Weequay turned to his troops and grunted a series of commands.
The security detail rose to its feet one at a time, and lowered their weapons.
”Right, ” said Larin. ”That's our cue. Put down your blasters, but keep your hands at your sides. We're not surrendering. ”
She stepped first out of the vault, and the Twi'lek came to meet her.
”I am Sagrillo, ” he said with a short bow. ”By the order of Ta.s.saa Bareesh, you are free to go. ”
Larin kept her relief completely hidden. ”You better believe it. ”
”And me?” asked Jet hopefully.
”Alas, Captain Nebula, my mistress still has need of your services. ” The Twi'lek bowed again. ”If you will accompany me, please, all of you, I will take you where you are required to be. ”
Larin fell in behind the Twi'lek, with Jet beside him. Clunker and Hetchkee brought up the rear. The only sound was a subterranean growling from the Weequay as the security detail parted before them. Larin considered tipping him a salute farewell, but thought better of it.
She glanced at Jet. Apart from the slow clenching and unclenching of his jaw muscles, he showed no emotion at all.
CHAPTER 22.
Ula sat in Encaasa Bareesh's office and tried not to weep. He should never have come to Hutta. He should have argued with Supreme Commander Stantorrs and made him send someone else. It didn't matter how it would have looked. He would happily take a greatly diminished position of responsibility in the Republic's military administration rather than endure another minute in this slovenly disaster area.
From the moment he heard the name of the accursed Cinzia, everything had gone wrong. First he had been kidnapped and interrogated. Then he had been caught in the crossfire among a Sith, a Jedi, and a Mandalorian. Then the brutal hexes had almost killed him. And now...
He put his head in his hands, barely able to think of it.
From outside the office came the sound of constant commotion. The destruction of the Republic shuttle had damaged the palace's s.p.a.ceport. Fire and repair crews ran backward and forward, shouting at one another and into comlinks, requesting reinforcements. Ula didn't offer to help. The palace could burn to the ground with everyone in it for all he cared.
The chances of Larin Moxla still being alive were slim indeed. Of that he was completely certain.
He wasn't proud of himself for running from the ruins of the security air lock, even though he had been sure at the time that his motives were pure. His performance as a Republic envoy had never been convincing; Jet had seen through him straightaway, even if he hadn't outright named him an Imperial spy. Better to let that life disappear and start a new one in the Empire, where he could spend less time worrying about who other people thought he was and more on actually doing the right thing.
Getting through the s.p.a.ceport guards hadn't been hard, even after the unexpected departure of Dao Stryver's scout s.h.i.+p. They remembered him from his arrival and let him through. He had approached the Imperial dock without hesitation, confident that the guards would allow him admittance.
It hadn't gone that way at all.
The shame of it still burned. His fellow Imperials-of a junior rank, what's more-had turned him away, recognizing him as belonging to a near-human species rather than pure-blooded like themselves. Epicanthix sc.u.m, they had called him. You belong in this hole, they told him. Go away before we shoot you dead.
He had staggered out of the s.p.a.ceport, stunned by the sudden reversal. If his own kind wouldn't take him in, who would? Barely able to think straight, he had wandered in circles around the neighborhood for what had felt like days, but couldn't have been any more than an hour. His choices were limited. He could either go back to the Republic and his old job under Supreme Commander Stantorrs-if he wasn't sacked for failing so miserably in his mission-or do as the Imperial guards had suggested and stay on Hutta. The latter he simply would not do.
When he returned to the s.p.a.ceport, determined to take his leave of the planet forever, he learned that the Republic shuttle had been destroyed. Bad enough that his fellow Imperials had rejected him; now they had destroyed his only means of getting offworld! He had been so wrapped up in his misery he hadn't even heard the explosion, and he bore the news that things had gone from bad to worse with a distressing lack of grace.