Cloak Of Deception (звёздные войны)

by Джеймс Лучено

  "We've been looking forward to meeting you since Dor — valla," the older one said.

  Cohl and Boiny swapped looks of surprised dismay.

  "You were the ones in the diplomatic Lancet," Cohl said.

  "You led us a merry chase, Captain." Cohl snorted and shook his head.

  "Well, you found us now. And you can put your glow sticks away.

  We're unarmed." Qui-Gon merely pointed the lightsaber toward the floor as he approached. "I congratulate you on surviving the destruction of the Revenue." Cohl sagged on his crutches. "A lot of good it did me, Jedi. My partner and I are shot to pieces." Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan regarded them through the Force, and understood that Cohl wasn't lying. Both he and the Rodian were seriously injured.

  "How did you find out about the Dorvalla operation, anyway?" Cohl asked.

  "A member of the Nebula Front," Qui-Gon said. "Now dead." "So there was an informant. I guess Havac was right to have been secretive about this one."

  "We're eager to meet Havac, as well," Obi-Wan said.

  Cohl looked at him. "You'd do better to destroy the droid Havac infiltrated into the summit." "Droid?" the Jedi said in unison.

  "A battle droid," Cohl elaborated.

  "It's right up there with the rest of the directorate's droids. We figure Havac plans to have the droid kill Valorum." "That's impossible," Qui-Gon said. "Battle droids can't act without a cue from a central control computer."

  "Havac's is one of Baktoid's new and improved models," Boiny said. "A commander. More of a freethinker. It only needs to be tasked, by voice command or remote signal, and it's capable of swaying the droids around it." Obi-Wan's jaw dropped slightly. "Are you saying that instead of one assassin, there are a potential dozen?" "Thirteen, actually," Boiny replied.

  "It still can't initiate an act like that on its own," Qui-Gon insisted.

  "That's where Havac comes in. He's the one with the remote." Qui-Gon stepped toward Cohl. "Where is he?" "I have some idea." "Tell me what you know, and let me handle this.

  Obi-Wan will escort you and your partner to medical attention-and into custody." Cohl shook his head. "If you want Havac, we go together, Jedi, or not at all." He canted his head to Boiny. "Besides, we're the only ones who can identify him." Qui-Gon didn't even have to think about it. He glanced at Obi-Wan. "Padawan, report back to Master Tiin and the others. Quickly." "But, Master-was "Go, Padawan. Now." Obi-Wan showed him a tight-lipped nod and spun on his boot heels.

  Qui-Gon watched his apprentice rush off, then he deactivated his lightsaber and put one arm under Cohl's trembling shoulder.

  "Lean on me, Captain." w ith ten drummers setting the tempo, twice as many horn players raised their long instruments to their mouths and trumpeted the first of the three prolonged fanfares.

  By then Obi-Wan had reached Tiin and the other Jedi.

  "It's the droids," he began in a sally of words.

  Tiin had him slow down and repeat everything he and Qui — Gon had learned from Cohl. Then the Iktotchi turned to Adi, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Vergere, and the rest.

  "Position yourvs as close to Valorum as possible," he instructed Adi and Vergere.

  "Obi-Wan, Ki, and I will be near the Trade Federation rostrum. The rest of you, disperse to deflect blasterfire. Be unassuming but prepared." "Master Tiin, do you think the Trade Federation suspects what's in their midst?" Obi- Wan asked as they set out across the floor of the hall.

  "They couldn't. They are aggressive only when it comes to commerce.

  However this Havac infiltrated the droid among the others, it had to have been done without the knowledge of the directorate members." "Should we order the delegation to remove the droids, Master?" Ki-Adi-Mundi replied. "Whoever is watching may decide to trigger the droids into action. If that happens, it could appear that we posed a threat, prompting the droids to respond with blasterfire.

  If there was time, we could get someone aboard the Trade Federation freighter to shut down the central control computer." "Have you fought these droids before, Master Tiin?" "I know only that they're not very accurate, Padawan." Obi-Wan frowned as he ran. "With thirteen of them firing, that may not matter." Not even a quarter of the way around the upper level corridor that accessed the media booths, Boiny spied Havac through a small transparisteel panel set high in the door.

  Leaving Cohl to stand on his own, Qui-Gon pressed his back to the corridor wall. "How many of them are in there?" he asked the Rodian.

  "Havac and maybe two other humans-seated to the right of the door." Qui- Gon nodded to the door release lever. "Try it." Gingerly, Boiny placed his hand on the lever.

  "Locked." He glanced at the touchpad mounted on the wall. "I can probably slice-was "I have a quicker way," Qui-Gon interrupted.

  Activating his lightsaber, he shoved the glowing blade through the lock mechanism. The metal glowed red and instantly began to slag, tainting the air with biting odors. With a grating sound, the door slid into xs wall pocket.

  By then, Havac and his two confederates were on their feet, weapons in hand. A flurry of blaster bolts glanced from Qui — Gon's blade, which he held upraised and threw left and right in precise parries. The deflected bolts blazed around the room, two of them wounding Havac's men and knocking them to the floor.

  Undiluted terror fumbled the blaster from Havac's grip. As it fell, Qui- Gon called the weapon to him with a Force summons and tucked it into the wide belt that cinched his tunic.

  Havac dropped back into his seat at the console, cowering in fear and raising his shaking hands above his head.

  Boiny and Cohl followed Qui-Gon into the booth.

  Cohl took stock of the situation and looked at Qui-Gon. "I'm glad I never had to go up against you people." "Cohl," Havac said in genuine amazement.

  Cohl made his eyes narrow. "Next time you'll know better, amateur."

  "Where is the remote that controls the battle droid?" Qui — Gon asked Havac.

  Havac adopted a look of innocent perplexity.

  "Remote? I don't know what you're talking about." Qui-Gon towered over him. "You infiltrated a droid into ^th the Trade Federation Directorate brought with them." He reached down and picked Havac out of his chair, holding him up against the booth's fixed window. "Where is the remote?" Havac clutched vainly at Qui-Gon's hand.

  "Enough! Put me down and I'll tell you!" Qui-Gon lowered him to the chair.

  "Our shooter has it," he said, biting out the words.

  "I know the one he means," Cohl said. "A sniper." Qui-Gon looked back at Havac. "Where is he?" "Out on the walkways," Havac mumbled, averting his eyes.

  Qui-Gon glanced at Cohl, making up his mind about something. "Are you well enough to remain with these three while your partner and I locate the shooter?" Cohl lowered himself into one of the chairs. "I think I can find it in me." Qui-Gon handed him Havac's blaster. He started to say something, but bit back his words and began again, gesturing to the two wounded men. "I'll send for medical attention." "There's no hurry," Cohl said.

  When Qui-Gon and Boiny had disappeared through the open doorway, Cohl stared balefully at Havac.

  The trumpeters paused briefly, then began the second modulating fanfare.

  The musicians were a stanza into the piece when a human page approached the Trade Federation rostrum and asked for Viceroy Gunray.

  The Kuati chair of the delegation directed the page to the far end of the directorate's curved table.

  With palpable apprehension, Gunray watched the page advance.

  "I'm sorry to intrude, Viceroy," the human began in Basic, loudly enough to be heard over the trumpets, "but apparently there is some problem with your shuttle. Eriadu Spaceport Control needs to speak with you at once." Gunray made his face long and stuck out his already prominent lower jaw. "Can't this wait until after the summit concludes?" The page shook his head. "I apologize, Viceroy, but this is a security matter. I assure you, it will require only a moment of your time." The Kuati chair, who had been monitoring the conversation, swung to face Gu
nray. "Go attend to the matter. If luck is with you, you won't have to endure Supreme Chancellor Valorum's opening remarks."

  Lott Dod came to his feet as Gunray was preparing to leave. "Should I remain in your absence, Viceroy?" Gunray thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "Come with me. You are better at dealing with procedures and legalities than I am. But let us be quick about it, Senator, I don't wish to miss any more of the summit than I have to." A hundred meters above the floor of the summit hall, Qui-Gon and Boiny hurried through the network of walkways, gantries, and trusses that spanned the upper reaches of the building from wall to wall. The martial bellowing of the trumpets resounded off the curved walls, playing tricks with the sound. Sunlight, colored by the enormous ocular window in the center of the dome, poured in.

  Suspended by brackets from the ceiling, or cantilevered from the walls, the walkways had openwork floors and tubular handrails and were just wide enough for a human of normal size to pass through. At regular intervals, especially where walkways intersected, were balconies that permitted maintenance to be performed on speaker arrays or banks of spotlights.

  There were innumerable places where a lone shooter, armed with a remote or a blaster, might conceal himself.

  Qui-Gon and Boiny hadn't gone far before they encountered the first security agent, who raised a hand weapon as they approached and demanded to know what business they had there.

  Qui-Gon explained in as few words as possible, at the same time regarding the agent through the Force to determine if his demeanor of righteous authority was genuine.

  Disconcerted by Qui-Gon's revelations, the agent activated his comlink and notified every agent in the vicinity to recheck the documents of anyone in the walkways, whether their badges identified them as fellow agents or technicians. In the same breath, he ordered that all exits leading to the periphery corridor behind the media booths be sealed off.

  Within moments, Qui-Gon, Boiny, and the agent were joined by additional security personnel. Forming up into three groups, they fanned out into the walkways.

  Qui-Gon and Boiny angled away from the perimeter and out over the floor of the hall. Directly below them stood the two lines of trumpeters and drummers.

  They reached another intersection and split up.

  Stretching out with his feelings, Qui-Gon moved warily toward the next balcony.

  A security agent rushed into view, a blaster rifle cradled in his arms.

  "I received word over the comlink," he said. "There are two technicians on the next balcony.

  I suggest we start with them." The agent stepped aside to let Qui-Gon pass.

  Qui-Gon sprinted forward. But the Force drew him up short.

  He began to turn.

  Someone shouted, "Jedi!" Qui-Gon spun and saw Boiny running full-out toward him. The security agent was between them, the blaster rifle still angled across his chest.

  Boiny pointed to the agent. "That's-was The agent glanced at Qui-Gon.

  "He's with me," Qui-Gon started to say.

  The agent crouched and fired, hitting Boiny square in the chest and hurling him backwards on the walkway. Then he whirled on Qui-Gon, firing steadily.

  Qui-Gon unleashed his lightsaber. But the blaster bolts were delivered with such speed and precision that he was hard-pressed to deflect all of them.

  Two whizzed past his blade, grazing his left arm and right leg.

  He stumbled slightly.

  Drawn by the sounds of the blasterfire, a trio of agents raced into view from the same direction Boiny had come. Havac's shooter drew a second weapon from a shoulder holster and unloaded on the agents, wounding two of them.

  Qui-Gon changed the cant of his blade to deflect bolts off to each side, rather than back at the shooter, for fear of hitting any of the reinforcements. By now the agents were returning fire, but showing little concern for Qui-Gon's predicament.

  The shooter was dazzlingly fast with his hands and body, dodging bolts and throwing himself from one side of the narrow walkway to the other, concealed body armor absorbing the few shots that did manage to find him.

  Qui-Gon leapt forward. Slashing horizontally with his blade, he severed two of the walkway's tubular vertical supports.

  Then he slashed downward to rend the struts that braced the platform.

  Abruptly both sections of the cleaved walkway tilted, sending Qui-Gon and Havac's shooter staggering toward each other and the increasing gap between the now dangling ends of the platform.

  A crazed yell tore from the shooter's throat.

  He slipped to the floor and began to slide along the grating, firing both weapons at Qui-Gon as he fell.

  Into the brief silence the musicians inserted between the second and final fanfares, came a rush of voices raised in panic.

  Seated stiffly at the center of the Coruscant delegation's rostrum, Valorum wasn't sure what had provoked the screams until he saw Sei Taria, with one hand pressed to her mouth, pointing toward the hall's ceiling.

  In the maze of walkways below the dome's oculus window, blaster bolts darted and crisscrossed in the tinted light. Others glanced from a lightsaber's green blade. Sparks showered down on the drummers and trumpeters like a benediction.

  Sei screamed.

  Jedi Masters Adi Gallia and Vergere rushed forward, their swords ignited.

  Then a figure plummeted from one of the walkways.

  From the Trade Federation's side of the hall, the chair of the directorate watched open-mouthed as a blaster fight erupted in the overhead trusses and gantries. On the floor, at the same time, three Jedi and several judicials were moving quickly if surreptitiously toward the directorate rostrum.

  The Kuati glanced between the ceiling and floor. Had the summit been engineered to trap the directorate? he asked himself. Would the Republic be so bold as to attack them in public?

  The security droids had gone from standing at attention to postures of readiness, crouching slightly, with arms crooked and left legs extended behind. They were programmed to answer to any or all of the directorate members-or at least relay a directorate member's commands to the central control computer on board the Trade Federation vessel-but the droids responded best to the Neimoidians.

  The Kuati chair looked around for Viceroy Gunray and realized that he hadn't returned. At a loss for what to do, he swung to one of his aides.

  "Activate the force field!" he ordered.

  The sounds of blasters and panic on the floor infiltrated the media booth Havac had secured.

  Seated in a chair with a hand weapon leveled at Havac, Cohl heard the holocam click on and saw Havac glance at it.

  "Am I correct in assuming that you intend to kill me?" Havac asked.

  "Killing is what you are good at, after all." "You're doing pretty good for a beginner, Havac." Havac snorted in disdain. "I'm prepared to die for the cause, Captain." "Maybe you are," Cohl said. "But I'm not going to give you that privilege. You're going to die for killing Rella. Besides, your cause is lost." Havac glanced at the cam again. "You think so?" Cohl gestured toward the transparisteel window.

  "You hear those blaster bolts? The Jedi found your shooter-the one controlling the droid. Valorum is out of danger. I never thought much of the plan anyway, seeing how Valorum is trying to dismantle the Trade Federation, the same as you are." Havac laughed shortly. "You failed to see the truth, Cohl. You really are too old for the game.

  What makes you think that we were ever after Valorum?" Cohl's grin straightened.

  Grimacing in pain, he pushed himself out of the chair and limped to the window. The blaster fight had thrown the hall into utter chaos. The members of the Trade Federation Directorate were standing behind their curved table, surrounded by their security droids, everyone safe inside a shimmering force field.

  Off to one side, a group of Jedi and judicials were closing on the Federation's rostrum.

  Cohl swung to Havac, his eyes blazing.

  "You're after the Trade Federation!" Havac couldn't restrain a tr
iumphant smile.

  "It was just a matter of getting them to activate the force field." He indicated the devices that were aimed down at the hall. "The scanner detected the activation. The holocam is going to do the rest." "The remote," Cohl said, as if in a daze.

  He lunged for the cam, meeting Havac halfway.

  They slammed into each other and fell grappling to the floor of the booth. They rolled toward the door, each man fighting for superiority, the blaster between them, in the clutch of four hands.

  Cohl swung his elbow into Havac's face, knocking him sideways, then used Havac's momentum to pitch himself on top of Havac, pinning him to the floor with his knees.