Part 20 (2/2)

Luckily, the situation wasn't without hope. The Imperials' blatant breaking of the Treaty of Coruscant might, on more civilized worlds, have resulted in all-out war, but on Hutta it was likely to be ignored along with the many other infringements perpetrated by the Sith and the Jedi that day. Furthermore, Ula's status as a Republic envoy still carried some weight. Ta.s.saa Bareesh's nephew had installed Ula in his fetid office-a place of leathery drapes and entirely too much velvet, with living things crawling all over the desk-and left him there to sort himself out while the s.p.a.ceport dealt with much more important emergencies. Ula couldn't blame him.

The only person Ula blamed was himself. If he hadn't run away like a coward, he might have been able to make a difference to the mission's outcome. Larin was very capable, but she was also wounded. And now with Stryver and the Sith gone, one of them presumably with the navicomp, and the guards outside babbling about the Jedi someone had captured, Ta.s.saa Bareesh was unlikely to show anyone involved the slightest clemency. He himself expected a wrathful backlash. All of Hutt s.p.a.ce would quiver until she found a way to mitigate her losses.

A swarthy Weequay burst into the office. He didn't knock. His face was melted into a permanent sneer.

”Up, ” he said, poking Ula with his force pike.

Ula's stomach sank. Here it came, the moment he had been dreading. How would Ta.s.saa Bareesh deal with him? If he was lucky, it would be quick. If he got what he deserved, it would be exceedingly slow.

The Weequay poked him again, and he rose wearily to his feet. Several tiny lizards fell squeaking from his back and crawled off under the couch-bed. At least, he thought, he would be leaving this ghastly menagerie behind.

He was led out into the s.p.a.ceport, where Encaasa Bareesh and a clutch of Gamorreans were waiting, ceremonial axes at the ready. In their midst was a dirty, beaten man whom Ula didn't immediately recognize. A crude bandage stanched the flow of blood from a wound on his left arm. A dozen other small cuts and grazes had been left unattended.

”Envoy Vii, I don't believe we've been formally introduced, ” the young man formally said. ”I'm s.h.i.+gar Kons.h.i.+, Jedi Padawan under Grand Master Satele Shan. ”

Ula was so surprised by the unexpected deference that it was difficult to respond in kind.

”I thought you'd been captured. ”

”I was. ”

”So what are you doing here?”

”I'm waiting for-” He glanced over Ula's shoulder. ”Yes, here they come now. ”

Ula turned and took in the scene behind him. If he'd been surprised into rudeness before, he was utterly speechless now.

Larin Moxla led a procession of a Weequay, a Twi'lek, Jet Nebula and his droid, and one of Potannin's surviving guards. They weren't being shoved along; they weren't in binders. Like s.h.i.+gar, they were being treated more like guests than prisoners.

”Nice to see you again, mate, ” said Jet, tossing him a casual salute. ”If you're the one who talked us out of that mess, I owe you a dozen Reactor Cores. ”

”Not me. ” Ula turned helplessly to s.h.i.+gar for an explanation.

”I cut a deal, ” the Padawan said to all of them, although his eyes kept returning to Larin. ”Ta.s.saa Bareesh is letting us go. ”

”That's suspiciously generous of her, ” she said.

”Yes, well, there's a catch. ” s.h.i.+gar pulled an unhappy face. ”I'll tell you when we're on our way. ”

”You have a lift, too?” asked Ula, hope beginning to bloom.

”Better than that, ” s.h.i.+gar said. ”I have a s.h.i.+p and a captain. ”

”Anyone we know?” asked Jet hopefully.

The Twi'lek addressed Jet in clipped, officious terms. ”The great Ta.s.saa Bareesh has instructed her nephew to release your vessel, but your contract with our employer remains in force. You will provide pa.s.sage for the Jedi and his companions to destinations of their choosing. You will not cut and run the moment you leave our airs.p.a.ce. You will return with the information gathered and provide said information in full. Any fiduciary losses incurred during this expedition will be your responsibility. ”

”What about the profits?”

”They will be distributed the normal way. ”

Jet grimaced. Ula guessed that ”the normal way” meant all for Ta.s.saa Bareesh and none for anyone else.

”It's not much of a deal, ” Jet said, ”and, well, call me a stickler for details if you like, but I don't remember there ever being a contract between us. ”

The Twi'lek smiled. ”There is now. ”

”I guess that's the catch, ” said Larin.

”Well, ” said Jet, ”at least we're alive and soon to be in motion. There's nothing that can't be solved, I've found, with the application of a little velocity. ”

He winked at Ula, who was still too shocked by the sudden turn of events to manage a natural expression.

”Where are we going, exactly?” he asked the a.s.sembled group.

”After Stryver, ” said s.h.i.+gar. ”And the longer we stand around here, the bigger the lead he'll have. ”

He bowed to Ta.s.saa Bareesh's nephew, who grunted something in reply. The Weequay and Gamorreans dispersed, marching with heavy tread off to pursue more important tasks. When the s.p.a.ceport doors opened to allow them admittance, Jet took the fore, whistling jauntily as he led them to his berth.

”Don't expect much, ” he said. ”The Auriga Fire is a loyal old thing but has seen better days. Like you, eh, old buddy?” He clapped Clunker on the shoulder, prompting a rattling noise that disappeared down the inside of the droid's left leg. ”It'll get you from A to B, but I can't speak to anything much else. ”

He stopped at the disembarkation ramp, where a series of carrybags had been lined up. ”h.e.l.lo, ” he said. ”Who might these belong to?”

”I think they're mine, ” said Ula. His quarters had obviously been emptied while he had wallowed in self-pity in Encaasa Bareesh's office.

”So you're joining us, Envoy Vii?” Jet asked with a knowing gleam in his eye.

”Yes, ” he said. ”If-ah, if that's not inconvenient. ”

”I can't guarantee that you'll get back to Coruscant anytime soon. ”

”That's okay. I would very much like to leave here, immediately. ”

”Right you are. ”

Jet keyed an elaborate code into his berth, then another into his s.h.i.+p's air lock. The hull was pitted and scarred with dozens of micrometeorite strikes. Ula fretted about the state of the s.h.i.+p's particle fields, but supposed that if Jet had survived this long, they couldn't be that bad.

The air lock slid open.

Jet waved him up the ingress ramp. ”After you, then. Mind the step. Crew quarters to your right. Guess that's what you quality as now. Someone's got to help me fly this thing straight. ”

Ula grabbed a carrybag as he went by. His sole remaining escort did the same. The ramp creaked and swayed. He wrinkled his nose at the stink emanating from the s.h.i.+p's interior. It smelled like stale Rodian. The Auriga Fire would undoubtedly be a far cry from the official transport he had enjoyed on the way to Hutta.

Still, he didn't care. Utter disaster had somehow been avoided, and for that he was grateful. He was alive, and so was Larin; he had clean clothes and transport; there was even a chance he might be able to return with information for his masters on Dromund Kaas. When he thought back to the despair he had been feeling just minutes ago, his present circ.u.mstances seemed positively optimistic.

<script>