Star Wars: Cloak of Deception

by James Luceno

  “Don’t condemn your actions just yet,” Qui-Gon replied. “Nothing happens by chance.”

  The pilot nodded and looked at Saesee Tiin. “Was it House Vandron that betrayed us?”

  The Iktotchi folded his arms across his massive chest. “That has little bearing on our present situation.” He glanced at Yaddle. “The question is, what do we do next?”

  “An immediate answer, that question begs,” the small Jedi replied, “as company we’re about to have.”

  Qui-Gon followed her gaze. Several vessels were approaching from the lake’s south shore.

  Obi-Wan reached to unclip his lightsaber, but Qui-Gon restrained him with a look. “There’s always time for that. Just now we need to assess where we stand.”

  Obi-Wan glanced around. “On an island, in the middle of a lake, with adversaries on the approach, Master.”

  “Wasn’t it you who said that things are not always what they appear to be?”

  Obi-Wan frowned. “I stand corrected.”

  Qui-Gon touched him on the shoulder and nodded his chin to the others. “There’s no sense making ourselves easy targets.”

  Drawing on the Force, and taking the judicials with them, the Jedi vaulted and bounded up into the boulders. From higher up, they had a better vantage from which to see just what was approaching. Driven by repulsorlifts, the vessels were as gruesomely fanciful as the spaceships of House Vandron. Some had upturned animistic prows and ribcage gunwales; others had elaborately raised sterns, carved with ghastly visages. All were equipped with mounted repeating blasters.

  The bestial flotilla came to a hovering halt just short of the island, weapons traversing the shore. Each vessel carried a crew of humans, Weequays, Rodians, Bith, Sullustans, and others, many of them layered in heavy garments, gloves, and headpieces that covered noses and mouths.

  Standing in the bow of the lead craft, a tall human unwound the colorful scarf that masked his lower face and cupped his hands to his mouth.

  “For what it’s worth, Jedi, we had planned on providing you with a warmer, and certainly drier, welcome.”

  Saesee Tiin, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Qui-Gon showed themselves. “The same warm welcome you provided our other cruiser?” Tiin said.

  The human had the boat brought about to face Tiin. “In attempting to flee, your other cruiser struck several mines and was destroyed. We had no intentions of firing on it.”

  “What are your intentions here?” Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

  “First, to declare that we are dismayed that the Jedi would oppose free trade in the outlying systems, by choosing to side with the Trade Federation.”

  “We have taken no sides,” Tiin said gruffly. “Our sole aim is to resolve this crisis before it intensifies into open warfare. That, too, is the goal of Supreme Chancellor Valorum, who is anything but your enemy is this matter.”

  “We had nothing to do with the assassination attempt,” someone in one of the other boats shouted.

  The terrorists’ spokesman whirled angrily to the source of the outburst, then regained his composure. “If Valorum is not our enemy, why was the Nebula Front excluded from the Eriadu summit?”

  “If you will agree to meet with the Supreme Chancellor, he will explain his reasons.”

  The human shook his head at Tiin. “That’s not good enough. The conference will unite the Trade Federation and the Commerce Guild against us. We demand that Valorum cancel the summit.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Qui-Gon asked, gesturing broadly. “You intend to hold us hostage while you issue your demands?”

  The human spread his gloved hands. “What are the chances of Valorum listening to us otherwise, Jedi?”

  Tiin responded to it. “And should the Supreme Chancellor refuse to listen to you now?”

  “Then the blood of however many of you die here will be on Valorum’s hands,” the man said after a long moment. He continued before any of the Jedi could respond. “All of us are aware of your abilities. We’re not yet desperate enough to attempt to take you by force. We know that you can probably survive on this pile of rocks for as long as you wish, even without adequate food and water. But that is also acceptable to us. For the moment, the fact that you are stranded here is all that matters. It is our hope, however, that you will come to your senses and allow us to imprison you in a style more in keeping with that which you are accustomed.”

  Night passed slowly.

  Warming themselves through the Force, the Jedi huddled on the stone floor of the island’s ruined summit temple, with the judicials pressed in among them. Glow sticks provided light when they needed it, and food tablets provided some sustenance. But there was no water, even from the lake, because of its dangerously high salinity.

  Vergere tucked her legs beneath her and sat as if roosting. Yaddle pulled her delicate robes around her and slipped easily into a trance state. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Depa Billaba, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Saesee Tiin took turns at guard duty.

  Lifeless as the island was, the Force was strong there, in the lingering presence of the ancients who had assembled it.

  Through trapezoidal windows in the temple walls, dawn cast long red shadows into the room. When everyone was awake, Yaddle and Depa Billaba got right down to business.

  “By now, Coruscant has learned of our predicament,” Billaba said. “I’m certain that the Supreme Chancellor will not delay the Eriadu summit. But he may dispatch more judicials to Asmeru.”

  “A conflict that guarantees,” Yaddle said. “Lost already is the Ecliptic, presumably with all hands. Now, additional deaths in the offing are. A better way to resolve this there is.”

  It was not the first time in her 476 years that the tiny Jedi had been imprisoned. According to legend, she had ascended to the rank of Master as a result of having spent more than a hundred years in an underground prison on Koba.

  “The Nebula Front can’t hope to gain anything by holding us here,” Qui-Gon said with patent suspicion. “Surely they know that we were able to communicate with Coruscant before we crashed.”

  “Perhaps they don’t think that way,” Ki-Adi-Mundi suggested. “Perhaps strategy of that sort doesn’t come into play.”

  Qui-Gon looked at him. “But it does. I’ve already seen it in action.”

  “Explain it to you Cohl will, when finally you confront him,” Yaddle said. “Until that time, resolve to yield or fight we must.”

  Vergere’s willowy ears pricked up. She glanced knowingly at Qui-Gon, then cut her oblique eyes to the doorless portal that led to the temple’s adjoining room. Qui-Gon listened intently for a moment, then he and Ki-Adi-Mundi stood up and moved silently to either side of the gaping opening.

  Yaddle, Depa, and Vergere began to converse again, as if nothing were amiss. Suddenly, Qui-Gon and Ki-Adi-Mundi reached into the doorway, tugging into the scant sunlight a humanoid who looked as if he, or perhaps she, had risen from the ground itself. The being’s thick skin was certainly impervious to wind, snow, or high-altitude solar radiation. Its four hands and bare feet were configured for digging and scooping, and its back was built for carrying loads. Eyes clearly capable of seeing in the dark were prominent in a mere suggestion of a face, lacking ears or nose, with a mouth barely suited to speech.

  Held in the grip of the two Jedi, the biped began to babble nervously in an unknown tongue.

  Depa got to her feet. “He speaks the traders tongue of the Senex sector Houses,” she said.

  Yaddle nodded. “One of their allegedly flawed bio-engineered slaves, he is.”

  The slave continued to speak, his gaze riveted on Depa.

  She listened, then smiled gently and touched his shoulder. “It seems there’s an alternative we hadn’t considered,” she told everyone. “This one is offering to help us escape.”

  Qui-Gon spoke to the slave. “By what method?”

  Depa translated the reply. “By taking the route he took to reach us.”

  The slave motioned to the adjoining room. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan lighted
two glow sticks and ducked through the doorway. In the room’s rear wall, a hinged stone door, a meter thick, was ajar.

  “Explored this place during the night, did you not?” Yaddle asked from behind them.

  “We did, Master,” Obi-Wan said.

  She shook her head in rebuke. “Careless, you are.”

  The slave said something to Depa.

  “This one says that this temple and the city are linked by underground tunnels. Some of the tunnels lead to the structures that surround the main plaza—the landing platform. Apparently, the plaza is lightly guarded, and this one believes that we could easily seize the starfighters parked there.”

  Yaddle’s eyes narrowed somewhat. “Clearly what we are meant to do,” she said. “Less certain, I am, about our chances of leaving Asmeru.”

  Tiin nodded decisively. “We’ll defer any decision until that option is in hand.”

  In single file they moved through the hidden doorway into a cold and dank corridor. At the bottom of a steep flight of stairs, two more slaves, all but identical to the first, were waiting. Oily black and acrid smoke curled from the torches they carried.

  The wide tunnel beyond the stairway was constructed of unmortared but precisely cut stones, some of which were perfectly curved to form vaulted supports. Shifts in the land had wrought damage to the ancients’ work. Lake water dripped through formerly solid joints and puddled on the stone floor. In several places, the walls were entirely encrusted in salt.

  Depa continued to converse with the slave as they began to descend beneath the shallow lake.

  “When the Nebula Front first arrived on Asmeru, they asked the slaves for shelter, and made no demands of them,” she explained. “But the later arrivals—the members this one calls ‘the soldiers’—forced the slaves to surrender their homes and provide food. The soldiers are as cruel as the Senex Lords, and they frequently clash with the Front’s more nonviolent founders about how things should be done. Fortunately, there are few commanding soldiers onworld just now.”

  “Few soldiers,” Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan. “That’s odd.”

  “How so, Master?”

  “Where are they, while we are here?”

  The tunnel began to angle up and the dripping ceased, indicating that they had reached the mainland. Smaller tunnels branched off in all directions, and there were visible signs that the passageways were used on a regular basis for moving about the ancient city. Crude sconces were affixed to the walls, and the edges of stones at the tunnel intersections had been polished to a gloss by the caresses of countless hands.

  “We’re close to the landing platform,” Depa announced quietly.

  The central tunnel debouched into a large rectangular cavern, with stairways leading up at the center of each wall. Depa pointed to the nearest one.

  “This will take us into the northern pyramid. The starfighters are parked near the structure that houses the tractor beam generator.”

  “That’s a good distance away,” Qui-Gon said.

  Depa nodded. “Most of the guards are quartered in the tractor beam pyramid. We’re certain to encounter resistance.”

  The slave led them up the stairs and guided them through a series of small rooms to a massive portal that looked out on the plaza. Several CloakShapes could be seen, along with the Hawk-Bat, resting on a trio of landing pads.

  In the middle distance, a few armed guards traded remarks in Basic.

  Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan led everyone but the slaves out into the plaza, most of which lay in deep morning shadow. They weren’t even halfway to the closest starfighter when a voice called out.

  “I’m glad to see that you’ve decided to join us.”

  Seven lightsabers igniting in a rush, the Jedi formed a protective circle, with their energy blades poised for deflection. At the center of the circle, the judicials crouched with drawn blasters.

  The human who had spoken to them from the hover vessel stepped out onto the balcony of a palatial structure that overlooked the plaza. Then, to all sides of the plaza, appeared Nebula Front soldiers brandishing all styles of blaster weapons. Behind the terrorists gathered a curious but wary audience of slaves.

  “Again, we are betrayed,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said.

  Depa looked back at the pyramid doorway. Quaking with primitive fear, the three slaves were being shoved forward by two armed terrorists.

  “Only by our predictability,” she said.

  “Master, who is our enemy here?” Obi-Wan asked quietly.

  Qui-Gon shook his head. “I’ve been wondering that since Dorvalla, Padawan. There is more to all this than we know.”

  The terrorists’ spokesman followed an exterior stairway down into the plaza, where he was joined by a second member—a Bith.

  Obi-Wan glanced briefly at Qui-Gon. “Master, isn’t that—”

  “Quiet, Padawan,” Qui-Gon cut him off.

  The human and the Bith stopped while they were still some distance from the ominous circle the Jedi had formed.

  “We have two choices here,” the human began. “Of course, we could fight. Ultimately, you would certainly emerge the victors. But some of you might die in the process, and those who don’t will be forced to kill all of us. Or—” He paused briefly. “—we could all lower our weapons.”

  Qui-Gon looked to Yaddle and Tiin, who nodded curtly and deactivated their lightsabers. At a signal from the spokesman, the terrorists began to holster their blasters. Qui-Gon and the other Jedi followed suit, dousing their lightsaber blades but keeping the hilts at ready.

  “I’m delighted that we could reach an understanding,” the human said in what sounded like genuine relief.

  Qui-Gon’s gaze roamed over the terrorists in front of him. “Where is Captain Cohl?” He asked after a moment.

  The question took the human off his guard. “Ah, of course,” he replied, after a moment. “You recognized his ship.”

  “Where is he?” Qui-Gon repeated.

  The human shook his head. “I’m sorry to report that Captain Cohl is no longer with us. I believe he retired. But back to matters at hand, do we have a truce here?”

  “A temporary one, at best,” Tiin cautioned.

  “One piece of business first,” the terrorist said, then turned to the soldiers who had herded the three slaves into the plaza.

  Without warning, blasters discharged and the slaves fell to the ground. Depa broke from the circle and hurried over to them, going down on one knee as she reached the slave who had guided them out of the pyramid. She touched the slave’s neck, then glanced up at Yaddle and gave her head a mournful shake.

  “That’s what happens to traitors,” the human was shouting to the slaves who had gathered round the plaza.

  Qui-Gon exchanged brief looks with Yaddle and Tiin.

  Seven lightsabers reignited.

  “We’re annulling the truce,” Tiin announced.

  The hologram showed a diplomatic cruiser attempting to maneuver through a field of asteroidlike space mines, grazing one then another, and another, losing pieces of itself with each encounter, and in the end vanishing in a brief-lived tempest of expanding fire.

  “That was the Ecliptic,” Valorum explained to Senators Bail Antilles, Horox Ryyder, and Palpatine, in his office in the Republic Executive Building. “The images were relayed to Coruscant by the Famulus, one of the ships of House Vandron that led our mission into the Senex sector. All twenty judicials aboard the Ecliptic are presumed dead.”

  Valorum switched off the holoprojector and lowered himself into his soft chair.

  “Has there been further word from the Prominence?” Antilles asked.

  Valorum shook his head. “We know only that those aboard—seven Jedi and five judicials—survived the crash. By now they could be in captivity.”

  “Is there any evidence to suggest that House Vandron was involved in this?” Senator Ryyder asked.

  He was exceptionally tall, even for an Anx, with a long, bearded head that rose like a mountain spire from
his curved neck. His skin was a variegated yellow-green, and his fingers were elongated spindles. He favored bright red robes, with high round collars.

  “No evidence whatever,” Valorum said. “Lord Crueya maintains that the commanders of their ships were ordered beforehand to avoid engagement, no matter what occurred.”

  “I don’t accept that for a moment,” Antilles said.

  Valorum blew out his breath. “I’m not certain that I do, either. Master Yoda was right about the rulers of the Senex. They are no better than the Nebula Front terrorists.”

  “Has the Front issued any demands?” Palpatine asked mildly.

  “Not yet. But I suspect we can sense what’s coming: demands that the Trade Federation be disbanded, or that the Republic guarantee reduced tariffs for the outlying systems. I will not consent to those, but, if nothing else, we should at least postpone the trade summit until this crisis is settled.”

  “I respectfully disagree,” Palpatine said. “I’m certain that is precisely what the Nebula Front wishes us to do.”

  Valorum’s forehead furrowed. “They could be holding the survivors hostage, Senator. And I’m responsible for having sent them into danger.”

  “All the more reason to stand firm.” Palpatine glanced around the room. “Supreme Chancellor, if I may say so, the moment is ripe to demonstrate the far-reaching authority of the Republic, and thus ensure Senate approval of taxation of the trade routes. Moreover, with the Nebula Front eliminated, the Trade Federation will be more inclined to accept taxation.”

  Valorum frowned at him. “Need I remind you that the Senex sector is not Republic space? Sending additional forces to Asmeru would constitute a violation of Senex sovereignty. The senate would never sanction such action.”

  Palpatine remained calm. “Again, I beg to disagree. The senate will sanction it because Republic interests are at stake.” Again he glanced at Antilles and Ryyder. “Assuming for the moment that the Jedi have failed in their diplomatic mission, the Nebula Front is free to disrupt the Eriadu summit, and thus broaden the existing conflict to include not only the Trade Federation, but also the Commerce Guild and the Corporate Alliance. Supreme Chancellor, you yourself said that the summit should, under no circumstances, be jeopardized. That was your paramount reason for dispatching the Jedi to Asmeru.”