without fatality. If all had gone well they would have faded back into
the desert an hour before the first explosion's false dawn illuminated
the night sky.
It was not to be. The problem had been an accident, really. Thirty
hours before their attack, Kibo's security system had malfunctioned.
The entire security network had been quietly taken offline for repair,
and it was impossible for Obi-Wan to test their attempts at a bypass.
Worse still, there was no way to know when the system might
come back online.
Perfect opportunity? Or perfect trap?
For half an hour Desert Wind had watched and waited and
sweated before deciding to go on with the plan. So half of them entered
the refinery while the others remained behind, hoping that
when the alarm system switched itself back on it would not reveal
their intrusion. Failing that, they hoped to disarm it completely.
Their plan might have worked, except that the plant security
wasn't testing the old alarm system at all. The power station staff
were installing a completely new system, one that did not show up on
any of the plans provided by the ever-bribable Trillot.
Obi-Wan had walked directly into an unintentional trap.
"We're surrounded!" Thak Val Zsing hissed.
"No," Obi-Wan said calmly. Val Zsing stuck his head up and was
immediately driven back by accurate blasterfire.
"We're pinned," Obi-Wan corrected, "but not surrounded. Right
over there—" He pointed at a series of ceramic spirals near the main
dome."—heat extraction coils run boiling water to the turbines." He
spoke as calmly as he could, but knew that his companions' patience
would not last indefinitely. "Jangotat?"
Jangotat had been patiently watching his quadrant since the ambush
was discovered, and now responded evenly. "Yes, sir?"
"I want you to draw them for me. I'll provide covering fire—"Jangotat
knelt down as Obi-Wan traced in the dust with his fingertip.
The trooper grasped the implications instantly, but Thak Val
Zsing was still uncertain. "I don't understand," the old man said.
"Watch, and learn," Obi-Wan said. "But now we need covering
fire."
"A lot of covering fire," Jangotat added. "Are you Jedi as good with
blasters as you are with lightsabers?"
"Better," Obi-Wan joked. "We only use lightsabers to make fights
more .. . equitable."
The ARC grinned. "Let's do it, then."
Obi-Wan chuckled to himself. Gaining a new name seemed to
have given Jangotat more personality as well.
Obi-Wan and his forces began a flurry of counterblasting that
temporarily tied down the guards crouching just beyond the dome.
Taking that opportunity, Jangotat dashed out from the hiding place
and, firing by instinct, managed to hit one of the security guards on
the fly. A fatality. No way around it, now. Obi-Wan had known that
this action might cost lives, but he'd allowed himself to hope—
His thoughts were interrupted as Jangotat dashed from the side
and zigzagged across the wharf, drawing a blistering stream of fire.
Blaster bolts ripped around his feet as Jangotat made a high, clean
dive into the volcanic pit. Obi-Wan flinched. That water had to be
hot!
As he had suspected, the forces pinning them down changed locations
slightly to get a better view of the steaming surface. In that
moment, Obi-Wan aimed carefully and blew a hole in the heat condenser
coil.
Live steam billowed from the burst coil and the security men
screamed, for a moment forgetting all plans and intentions. A good
scalding could do that.
He glanced behind himself long enough to be certain that a speeder
bike swooped in to fish Jangotat out to safety. Then Obi-Wan led the
charge toward the disorganized security forces.
Forty meters separated them. If Obi-Wan could just steal a few
seconds, aggression could compensate for superior numbers. One of
the blind, scalded men turned his weapon on the charging intruders,
too late to keep them from closing the gap.
One of the Desert Wind recruits went down hard, his chest transformed
into a smoking husk. The clash was joined.
Obi-Wan's lightsaber flashed, and guards fell. Steam gushed from
the damaged coil. While it stung his eyes, he was not nearly so close
to it as those first men had been. That must have been brutal.
The air around Obi-Wan blurred with lightsaber slashes. Speeder
bikes screamed in from above now, and Obi-Wan glimpsed Kit
Fisto's speeder streak past as the Nautolan plunged into the fray,
lightsaber flashing left and right, deflecting laser blasts and severing
blasters at the barrel. Fortunate guards scrambled back to safety. Unfortunate
ones fell clutching wounds, and a few would never move
again.
They had been trapped, and tricked; disaster had been averted only
because Jangotat had been willing to do exactly as ordered, even
though those orders seemed insane. Disaster had been reversed, become
a rout that might devolve into a slaughter if he didn't stop this.
He waved the withdrawal signal to the Nautolan, and their troops
went into retreat. They had done more damage than their original
plan had called for. When the explosives detonated, this entire facility
would be a splintered mass of rubble.
And yet, try as he might, he felt no pride at all.
Lives had been lost. The door to chaos had just been opened, and
it stretched wider by the moment.
51
In the days since the Jedi had been expelled from ChikatLik,
Desert Wind had destroyed three refineries, an energy facility, and a
manufacturing plant.
And this, Duris knew, was only the beginning.
She didn't know where to turn. All she could do was issue security
orders. Although they would be carried out without fail, she was no
longer certain how much difference it would make.
Duris no longer knew who to trust. The Five Families constantly
lied. It was their nature, fed to them along with their first food. Every
few hours the Cestus map sprouted another red blotch. And that
meant that time was running out. Already, she knew, the Five Families
were making their own plans. Either to find a way to remove her
from office, or worse.
And the devil of it was that what she wanted most of all was to
speak with Obi-Wan one more time. To ask him to explain. Perhaps
if it had been just the two of them, that might have been possible.
But now . . .
"Your orders, ma'am?" Shar Shar burbled.
"Keep gathering information, Shar Shar," she said. "And hope for
a miracle."
On the most secretive of occasions, those executives known as the
Five Families met in their most private facility, a bunker complex
seventy kilometers south of ChikatLik. The bunker was officially
called an "entertainment complex," and was complete with sufficient
communications gear to monitor the entire planet, as well as enough
food and water to supply ten people for six months. The outer facility
was complete with a holoatrium, exercise and dining rooms, luxurious
suites, and lounging areas. An inner room was even more secure,
with walls thick enough to resist even glazion energy torches for a
standard day.
Despite her relation to the X'Ting clan, Trillot had never before entered
the bunker, and doubted she ever would again. At the moment
she was hosted by her distant cousin Quill, who owed her favors. Still,
nervousness hung in the air like a pall of smoke. The ambience did not
improve when, from a darkened corridor, a tall shaven-headed woman
entered the room, the pale skin at her temples scribed with tattoos.
Ventress wore a skintight suit of black Sullust leather that emphasized
the disturbingly boneless quality of her movement.
Trillot stood to make the introductions. "I present to you Asajj
Ventress."
Those present stood politely. Then they sat again and awaited her
comments.
"I am Commander Asajj Ventress." Her tattooed scalp held their
eyes as if the static inkings were animated. "I represent Count
Dooku. Our new venture, the JK droids, will give you wealth and
power beyond limit. But make no mistake: my master has greater
concern than profit. If you conduct fair trade, you will be rewarded."
The representatives whispered to each other, nodding enthusiastically,
and Ventress had to raise her voice slightly to get their attention
again. "Attempt to deal with this as mere commerce," she warned,
"and you will die to regret it."
Dame Por'Ten raised a thin, blue-veined hand. "No need for such
talk, Commander. There may have been some confusion recently, but
with the . . . departure of Obi-Wan Kenobi, I can assure you we are
back on track."
Ventress inclined her head. "Well then," she said, her lips curled in
a cold smile. "Let's discuss particulars."
There was a bit of polite agreement before someone had the honesty
to actually speak her mind. "What is it you request?"
Ventress focused her gaze upon the speaker, then dropped her eyes
politely. "That you continue to serve your best interests."
The answer seemed to please them. "And what might those be?"
Ventress raised her eyes. They burned like coals. "Survival. And
you would not be alive, any of you, if you had yielded to the Jedi. Now
then, I know at least one escape capsule survived. I believe both
Kenobi and his allies are still alive. I feel it. They will attempt to disrupt
our commerce."
Lady Por'Ten recoiled before Ventress's ferocity. "Wha-what
should we do?"
The slightest of smiles curled those thin lips. "Obey me," Ventress
said. "And provide me with your data, data you can project on
a map."
"Why?"
Her eyes hardened. "Do not ask for answers that you cannot
understand," she said. "Let us merely say I intend to prove Kenobi
my inferior. His lies are my reality."
All the data had been gathered and then input to the computers. It
included every sighting, every act of sabotage, everything that was
known, including the escape pod s disappearance.
Everything.
Asajj Ventress walked through the midst of the projection field,
eyes closed and fingers outstretched, resembling a blind girl mapping
an unfamiliar room.
Or so it might have seemed to one of mundane mind. To others,
she seemed a strange and terrible siren wandering through a sea of
living energy, gliding along lines of intention.
Trillot thought Ventress the most beautiful, frightening sight she
had ever beheld.
Finally, Ventress turned and faced them. Her hand stretched out,
one quavering finger touching a point in the midst of all the glowing
lines. "Here," she said. "They are in this place."
"Are you certain?" Lady Por'Ten asked. "You can be so sure of their
location?"
The others held their breath, not wishing to contemplate the potential
danger of questioning this woman in any way, shape, or form.
Her chest heaved slowly as she replied. "You of the Family are dead
to the Force. But Obi-Wan. Yes . . . he is alive with it. He and . . .
yes . . . " She closed her eyes. "One other." She inhaled, as if scenting
something in the air. "The Nautolan. Yes. He is Jedi, too. I feel it. I
can feel their ripples in the Force."
She smiled at them. "If you see ripples in water, do you not know
where the stone was dropped? If these maps and this information are
good, my analysis will be true."
As Ventress spoke with the others, Trillot felt the pressure mount.
If this operation failed, the gang lady might bear the brunt of anger
from both sides. But if she succeeded . . .
Quill leaned close to her. "You have done well. Continue your support,
cousin. If the Five Families profit, you will be rewarded beyond
your dreams."
"My dreams are quite expansive," Trillot said, turning to look at
them. "What is it you offer?"
"For three hundred years," Quill said, circling Trillot seductively,
"there have been Five Families. Mining, fabrication, sales and distribution,
research, and energy. But mining has always understood that
labor was an integral part of our process."
"So?"
"So . . . after Duris is dead, there will be room in the hive council
for Trillot."
Trillot's eyes glowed.
"Think of it. Your grubs would no longer crawl in the shadows."
"Invited to the balls?"
Quill smiled. "Dining at the head table. Trillot, my friend. My
sister. It is high time for you and your family to emerge from the
darkness and take your rightful place."
Quill had found Trillot's weakness. "What must I do?" she said.
Ventress watched it all without speaking. Her hands were still outstretched,
as if she could feed through her fingertips. Trillot had
heard that Obi-Wan Kenobi had faked a fantastic demonstration
only days before. Could Ventress actually do such an incredible
thing? And if she could, did that not imply that she was superior to
the J e d i . . . ?
"Remember who is your friend and ally in these matters. Not
Duris, certainly."
"No."
"Nor Kenobi," he said quietly, glancing to be certain their deadly
ally was out of hearing, "who uses our planet as a pawn on the galactic
game board."
"Yes." Trillot was shaking.
"Do you fear Kenobi?"
Trillot nodded.
"Do not. Our ally, the great Asajj Ventress, will destroy him. You
must supply her with whatever she asks, whenever she asks, without
question. Kenobi may still trust you, and come to you for help. If he
does, you must act without hesitation. The moment will come, and
when it does, you may emerge into the sun."
"We must act," Ventress said, turning to them.
"What have you in mind?" Lady Por'Ten asked.
Ventress stalked the chamber almost as if she were oblivious to the
others. "I have in mind a test for your JK droids."
The members of the Five Families glanced at each other nervously.
"The
y are not lethal until their Gabonna crystals are replaced,
ma'am."
"No matter. Captives can be profitably questioned. But one other
thing is necessary: months ago Count Dooku designed and ordered
special infiltration droids. According to your reports these droids are
complete, and ready for testing."
"Yes, that is correct," one of the technicians agreed.
"Then they, and the JKs together, will follow my commands," Ventress
said, and she smiled. And that smile was so unfeeling that it
made a snarl look warm and welcoming in comparison.
Ihey were not alive, but they crawled through the darkness. They
had no minds, but dreamed of death. They had no bodily needs, yet
were ravenously hungry.
At the moment the four droids in the lead were little more than
clear sacs of jelly. Dull lights embedded in their semisolid bodies revealed
clumps of metallic shapes suspended within.
Those in the rear were more solid, golden, hourglass-shaped droids.
Their small, pointed legs crawled easily along the path blazed by
their larger brothers. JKs.
The four infiltration droids used their indeterminate shape to
squeeze through the smallest passageways, finding purchase wherever
they could, then taking whatever shape best served their needs.
Laser nodes along their surfaces scalded the rock, melting it and
grinding it to widen the passageway.
For kilometers they traveled like this, becoming more solid when
they needed to push an obstruction aside, more fluid when they
needed to explore, making the way for the JKs.
The lethal procession whispered beneath the ground, below every
sensor, beneath any potential observer. And they traveled in near
silence. When they met an obstacle they burrowed or burned
through it.
One meter at a time, they simply approached their prey. Without
fatigue or trepidation, without mercy or living intent they moved forward,
motivated by nothing save a programmed appetite.
One that would shortly be satisfied.
For hundreds of years the Dashta Mountains' deep shadows had
provided protection for smugglers, runaways, thieves, political malcontents,
and young sweethearts. No one knew all the paths that led
into the chambers, and likely enough no one ever would. Therefore it
was the depths of the caves themselves that were selected as the best
place for a celebration.
The Cestus Deception Page 27
