Sal’s eyes narrowed. “I heard about the ruckus down on Gallery Row. That was you, then?”
“During the ruckus, as you so quaintly put it,” I-Five told Sal, “Jax discovered that I generate a sporadic Force signature.”
Tuden Sal’s face was a stupefied blank. The first emotion to display there was disbelief. He looked at Jax. “You what?”
“I was under attack—” Jax began.
“An Inquisitor was half a second away from running Jax through. I prevented him. I was in the grip of rather strong emotions at the time.”
“Which I felt,” Jax added.
Sal gaped. “Strong emotions?”
“I was terrified of losing him, if you must know.”
“The long and short of it,” Jax said, “is that I-Five can’t guarantee he’d be able to keep his emotions in check if he got close to the Emperor. He’s not the ideal assassin you thought he was.”
Sal’s face flushed a darker shade of bronze. “You’re sure of this?”
Jax shook his head. “How can one be sure? But the fact that there’s a reasonable doubt of jeopardy is enough to call it off.”
The Sakiyan’s eyes narrowed again. “Are you the only one who felt it? Did Laranth sense it as well?”
“She was having her own difficulties at the time,” I-Five noted drily. “We were under attack by several Inquisitors.”
“I heard the rumor, but I didn’t believe it. You fought the Inquisitors—in the open?” Sal shook his head. “That’s another strike against our plan. But perhaps that’s what you intended.”
Now it was Jax’s turn to stare in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve really been against this mission from the beginning, haven’t you? Why? Is it because of your father?”
Jax leaned forward. “What are you accusing me of, exactly?”
“It isn’t difficult to parse. You engage in a public battle with Inquisitors, thereby drawing attention to yourself and I-Five, then claim that, as a result, you can sense him through the Force.” He spread his hands. “No one else has claimed they can sense him.”
“That’s a ridiculous accusation,” said I-Five. “If anyone was going to bear you ill will over Lorn Pavan’s death, it would be me. And ultimately it was Senator Palpatine who had him killed, through the Sith assassin. Research tells me that the assassin, or at least a Zabrak with similar ritual tattooing, was later killed during a fight at a power station on Naboo, so there goes any chance for revenge against him. That leaves Palpatine.
“Jax didn’t engineer yesterday’s incident. We were drawn into a fight with the Inquisitors to prevent the capture of a friend.”
“Another Jedi, no doubt.”
“A potential Jedi,” said I-Five.
“Ah … or a potential Sith, then.”
Jax shifted uneasily, remembering the ease with which Kaj had sent the Inquisitor into oblivion. He’d felt the hot wash of hatred that preceded the act. “Not if we can help it,” he said. “But that’s neither here nor there. I did not blow our cover yesterday, nor am I making up what I felt. I-Five can be sensed through the Force. How, I don’t know …”
“He’s a droid,” Sal said. “He can act like a droid and—”
“Act is the operative term,” I-Five interrupted. “The only way for my intentions to be clear of falsehood would be if someone were to strip my cognitive module down to my basic programming kernel—”
“Ah! Of course!” cried Sal. “That’s what we’ll do.”
“In which case, I would no longer be able to carry out the directive,” I-Five finished. “My BPK does not permit me to injure a sentient being.”
Sal looked glum, then brightened as he snapped his fingers. “What if you had a handler? Someone who went with you and remote-switched off the BPK when you were close enough to the Emperor to complete the mission.”
Jax shook his head. “Too risky. At that last moment, when his sentient overlay was reinstated, it’s likely his module would overload and flare out.”
Sal shrugged. “But then it would be too late—for the Emperor, at least.”
“Yeah. And maybe too late for I-Five as well.”
Sal shrugged. “So what? The handler simply reinstates the program. A clean-slate override.”
“Not simply,” objected Jax. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with here. If ever a droid was more than the sum of his parts, it’s I-Five. I don’t want to take the chance of a reboot causing him to lose whatever part of him might go beyond code.”
Sal stared at Jax. “You’re not seriously suggesting that I-Five has a soul?”
“I’m suggesting that he might not be the same droid we powered down. And that’s not all. Emperor Palpatine is the head of the Sith Order. If you think the Inquisitors are deadly, the Emperor is exponentially more deadly. Quicker, more focused, more powerful. In that split second that I-Five’s BPK goes offline, the Emperor could very well sense it and retaliate before I-Five has a chance to do anything.”
“You don’t know that. Palpatine won’t be expecting anything. And the droid doesn’t need to be that close to him—a laser shot from the gallery when the Emperor is on the floor of the Senate, for example …”
“Such a scenario might possibly work, but there’s always Darth Vader to worry about.”
“But the droid could—”
“The droid could fall apart from metal fatigue waiting for you two,” I-Five cut in. “Let’s assume for a moment that we can get me past surveillance.” He looked at Sal. “What were you thinking?”
Tuden Sal was suddenly animated. “It’s a simple plan. And because it’s simple, I think it stands a high chance of success. Palpatine attends the Senate ‘debates’—bootlicking fests is more like it—on the last day of each week. The number of protocol droids in the Senate Hall at those times is mind-boggling. They’re everywhere—interpreting, carrying messages, serving tea—we should have no difficulty getting in as attachés of whatever delegation I-Five tells the security system we’re with.”
“And as the handler, where would I be?” Jax asked.
I-Five reacted strongly to that. “Jax, you can’t. You’re a Jedi. A wanted Jedi. Even if you wore a skinsuit, you’d be in danger of being read. You’d jeopardize the mission.”
Jax thought about it. “I could be one of The Silent, perhaps. They travel heavily enrobed and no one notices.” Then an epiphany struck him. “Got it. I’ll go in as an Inquisitor. Totally appropriate as a Force-sensitive.”
“And where would you get an Inquisitor’s robe?” the Sakiyan asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure Rhinann does. And I think I may even know where I can get some taozin. I already have a Sith blade.”
Tuden Sal nodded. “Yes. It could work. The citizens’ galleries have an unobstructed view of the Emperor’s Senate platform.”
“Which is protected by a repulsor shield and an EM shield,” I-Five objected, staring at Jax as if he’d gone completely mad.
“I’m a Jedi. I can defeat both.”
“Perhaps. But doing so will cause you to light up like a supernova to the other Inquisitors.”
Jax shrugged. “There’ll be too much pandemonium because the Emperor will be dead.”
I-Five’s photoreceptors met Jax’s eyes straight-on. “I,” said I-Five, “am supposed to be keeping you alive. Remember?”
“Then you’d better make it your best shot.” Jax turned to Tuden Sal. “Are you convinced yet that I haven’t been trying to sabotage your mission?”
The Sakiyan didn’t answer that; instead he said, “Palpatine’s next appearance in the Senate is in two days. Will that give Rhinann enough time to get an Inquisitor’s robe?”
Jax stood up. “Let’s find out.”
“You want me to get what?” Rhinann was aghast. As he had long suspected, the Jedi had completely lost his senses.
“An Inquisitor’s robe. Can you?”
“Preferably without alerting the entire Inquisito
rius as to its destination,” I-Five added.
Rhinann fixed the droid with a baleful glare. “They won’t even know it’s missing. When do you need it?”
“Within the next two days.”
Rhinann felt the building sway around him. “That soon?”
“If you can’t do it,” Pavan said, “perhaps I’d better seek another source.”
Rhinann stiffened. No Elomin could stand to have his professional integrity thus impugned. He knew that Pavan knew this, and was using it to manipulate him, but knowing that didn’t help. “I can do it. It’s just … so soon.” The Elomin moved to the HoloNet station in the living room and jacked in. “By the way,” he said as he began his egress into the Inquisitorius node, “I was monitoring the ISB traffic this morning. The droid has been made. The surviving Inquisitor sensed him during the incident yesterday.”
He saw Pavan and I-5YQ exchange glances, and felt a glow of satisfaction. “Hmm. Yes. A bit more alarming a prospect now, isn’t it?”
To Rhinann’s surprise, the Jedi merely shrugged. “I’m not surprised, but Tuden Sal might be. Let him know.”
Rhinann swung around to stare at the daft human. “So you’re still going through with it? What can you be thinking?”
“That the ISB will be looking for a Jedi with a sentient droid and what they’ll get is an Inquisitor with a garden-variety threepio.”
They left him to his ministrations then, descending into the empty art gallery—most likely, the Elomin thought, to continue the process of planning their own funerals.
Still, Rhinann reflected, it might not be an unmitigated disaster. I-Five would surely make certain that, under these conditions, Jax was the one carrying the bota. The more Rhinann thought about it, the more sense it made as a contingency plan. The bota would provide backup. If I-Five were discovered or the plan went awry in some other way, Jax would take the bota and complete the mission.
Elegant. It also clarified what Rhinann had to do. He must grease the gears for the assassins’ entry into the Imperial headquarters.
And he must make sure that he was one of the assassins.
twenty-three
Kaj liked being with the greenskined Twi’lek. She was his idea of a Jedi—stealthy as the wind, lithe, smart, brave, mysterious.
“You’re different,” he told her as they made their way together from the safe house he’d spent the night in through the maze of alleys that led, eventually, to the gallery/theater above which Thi Xon Yimmon’s sanctum was located.
“From what?”
“From Jax.”
“Jax is human. I’m Twi’lek.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Jax is male. I’m female.”
“Well, yeah. I kinda noticed that.”
“I’m green. Jax is a sickly shade of beige.”
“Now you’re teasing me.”
“I never tease.”
“You keep saying that, but you tease me. And sometimes you tease Jax.”
Laranth turned her head to look at him. “Don’t tell him that.”
Her eyes were a stellar shade of green—like the twin stars that rose in the winter evenings just after midnight in the southwestern sky over his parents’ farm.
He grinned at her. “I won’t. What I meant was you’re not what I expected a Jedi to be. Well, neither is Jax, really.”
“I’m not a Jedi. I’m a Gray Paladin.” The green eyes darkened. “So what did you expect Jedi to be like?”
“All serious. Well, you’re serious, but I mean like … like the monks in the healing orders.”
“The Silent?”
“Yeah. I mean, Jax is all into teaching me how to be still and calm and all, but he’s … Jax.” He paused a moment then asked, “How do you do it? How do you keep from letting the anger get you?”
“You’re feeling angry right now?” She swept him with her emerald gaze, and he knew she was reading him—as much as she could, considering the fact that he was wearing the Inquisitor’s taozin necklace. Rhinann had told him the Inquisitor’s name: Tesla. He’d remember that.
“No, I’m not angry now. It’s … it’s partly what they did to my parents.”
“The farm?”
He’d told her about that. Now he just nodded. “And partly it’s just …”
“Maybe it would be better if you didn’t think about it.”
“Is that how you deal with it? By not thinking about it?”
She gave him a long, disconcerting look. “I seem angry to you, do I?”
“Yeah. Especially when—”
He didn’t finish the sentence. Stepping out into the intersection of four narrow corridors, he found himself knee-deep in some sort of weird fog. It lapped languorously around his legs like subliming CO2.
“Hey, what is this stuff?”
Laranth stared down at the rising mist, then swore. Spinning back the way they’d come, she drew her blasters and took one step, then stopped.
“Inquisitors,” she snarled and turned again.
Kaj’s blood pumped harder. “It’s okay. I can take care of them.”
“No, you can’t.” She took the right branch of the intersection. It was blocked not a meter and a half from the junction by what looked like a block of solid ferrocrete.
Kaj stood in the center of the intersection watching the fog rise, catching the scent of it. He knew it was a drug even as the first wave of vertigo hit him. He saw Laranth tear by him in a curling wake of the stuff, futilely checking the center and left-hand corridors.
She staggered as she came back into the junction, swore again, and bolted back the way they’d come. The logic of that hit Kaj as his knees buckled. Their captors had all the time in the world to completely plug the corridors ahead of them with objects they’d be unable to manipulate, but their back trail would have to be guarded. His first impulse had been right, he thought as the fog seeped into his mind. He should’ve turned around and blasted them.
He tried to summon the will and focus to do that now, but his mind would not cooperate. He felt as if his body had been disconnected from his brain and the different parts of his brain blocked from communicating with one another.
He fell into the swirl of mist, watching Laranth’s silhouette move away from him through it. He heard the hum of lightsabers and saw red flashes.
How would Jax find them? How would he even know what had happened to them?
Pebbles.
The answer came from a simple childhood tale about a young sister and brother whose evil father took them out into the fens to lose them, lest they grow to adulthood and fulfill a prophecy that foresaw his demise. They had dropped pebbles along their trail to find their way back.
Kaj had no pebbles, but he did have a taozin chain. With his last shred of focused thought he wrenched the thing from his neck and tossed it behind him.
Jax couldn’t have said where the dream twisted and became a nightmare. It wasn’t a Force dream, just a reeling off of recent events seen in strobe-like splashes of color and movement. Then, with a suddenness that thrust him into a half-waking state, the entire atmosphere of the dream altered, becoming viscous, fluid, and terrifying.
He plunged through layers of oily cloud in a cold, narrow place that was as dark as an Inquisitor’s heart. He was dropped into a maze to run blindly here and there, seeking escape. But escape was barred at every turn and someone or something was seeking him, drawing ever nearer in the dark.
He dragged himself to wakefulness, a chemical taste in his mouth. After a moment, he recognized it.
Spice gas.
He sat up, the oppressive foreboding he’d felt since yesterday now a crushing weight that sat in the middle of his chest. He rose and pulled on his tunic. Any more sleep was out of the question. He’d go see Thi Xon Yimmon. He checked the wall chrono. If he went now, he could help Laranth align the light sculptures.
He hung his lightsaber at his belt, arranged his vest over it, and went out onto the upstairs ga
llery. I-Five looked up from his inspection of the cloth Rhinann was holding out for him. The Inquisitor’s cloak, Jax realized.
“Where are you off to?” I-Five asked.
“I’m going to check on Kaj.”
“We are scheduled to meet with Sal again shortly to finalize—”
“I know. I’ll be late for that, I guess.”
The droid blinked. “Jax, may I remind you that we’re plotting to assassinate the Emperor, not planning a family picnic.”
Jax hesitated. I-Five was right, but the nightmare still sat on him—in him—making his thoughts slow and disjointed. He took a deep breath. “I think I felt a disturbance in the Force. I was asleep, so it’s all muddled up with a dream I was having.”
Rhinann turned to I-Five. “Can you translate that into Basic for me, please?”
I-Five sounded annoyed. “It’s Jedi for something bad has happened.” He thrust the cloak back into Rhinann’s arms and came to stand below the balcony, looking up at Jax. “Kaj?”
“I’m not sure. I want to go check.”
“We have a HoloNet node,” said Rhinann, gesturing at it.
As if on cue, the HoloNet pinged to signal an incoming message. Rhinann moved to the floating station in the corner of the gallery and checked the source.
“It’s Thi Xon Yimmon.” He looked up at Jax.
“Open the link.”
By the time Thi Xon Yimmon appeared, Jax was standing on the projection pad, facing him. One glance at the Whiplash leader’s gaunt face made every atom of his body chill.
“What’s happened?”
“The worst, I’m afraid. Kaj and Laranth have been captured.”
Jax realized he was using the Force to hold himself upright, his legs suddenly feeling unequal to the task of bearing his body’s weight.
“How?”
Yimmon glanced to one side. “As near as we can tell an ambush was set up along one of our approach corridors beneath the spaceport. A little-used one we selected especially for the purpose of moving Kaj. I can’t tell you how it was done. Somehow they must have incapacitated Laranth and the boy or … or worse.”
Jax closed his eyes and reached out, uncaring just now if some nearby Inquisitor should feel the brush of his mind as it touched the fabric of the Force.
Star Wars: Coruscant Nights III: Patterns of Force Page 22
