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Master of Disguise (9781484719763)

Page 7

by Watson, Jude


  “Don’t worry, we didn’t poison you,” Tic said. “It’s because we have respect for the Jedi that we did this. We know it’s the only way to slow you down.”

  Tic’s voice had not changed. He still sounded friendly and warm. “We’ve immobilized you in order to talk to you. We don’t wish to harm you.”

  “We only wish to discuss the Force,” Mellora said.

  The other faces turned to him. Now their bright interest, he saw, was not interest at all. It was not so simple. It was greed. They were ravenous for information about him. He had thought he was learning from them, but all the time, they were studying him.

  “Mellora and I are the only scientists here,” Tic said. “I’m afraid I lied to you about my friends. We are simply a group of ordinary beings who are interested in the extraordinary. We have a common interest in the Force.”

  “We wanted to find a Force-sensitive being to talk to about it,” Mellora said.

  In other words, Anakin thought, they were a Sith cult. No matter how friendly they seemed. No matter how much they wanted him to think they were harmless. He had tangled with a Sith cult before. Although they weren’t Force-sensitive, they were drawn to the dark side and they could be dangerous.

  But why Tic Verdun? He was a respected scientist.

  And how do you know that? You don’t know anything about him except that you liked him.

  Anakin thought back to the mission on Haariden. He had liked Tic because Tic had seemed to understand him. He had been the bravest of the scientists, too. He had been the one to go off and scout for patrols. He had risked his life, they said…

  He had been gone for hours, they said…

  “Do you understand?” Tic asked him softly. “Do you, Anakin Skywalker?”

  “You are Granta Omega,” he said.

  “Very good.” Tic turned to the others, pleased. “You see how his mind continues to work? On an ordinary being, that drug would immobilize his thoughts as well as his legs.”

  Anakin thought about trying to rise. He thought he would have enough strength to reach the door. He had not begun to tap into the Force yet.

  Wait. That’s what Obi-Wan would say. He had enough strength for one try. He knew that. And if he had enough strength for only that, he had better plan it.

  “Back on Haariden, you said the Force frustrates you,” Tic said.

  No. I spoke hastily. It was because of what happened with Darra. But Anakin said nothing. He did not want to have a conversation with Tic. Omega. He found it unnerving to see the same friendly look in his bright eyes, the good humor on his face.

  “That interested me,” Omega said. “I thought, this Jedi is different. He recognizes not only what power is, but what it isn’t. What it can be. Power is…protection. It is what stands between you and losing what you have. I’m not talking about material things, either. I’m talking about…every­thing.”

  Anakin didn’t understand. But then, he didn’t want to.

  Tic leaned forward. His warm eyes met Anakin’s.

  Not Tic. Granta Omega. He is not your friend.

  The words Tic and Omega blurred in his mind. He remembered a man sitting on a snowy mountainside, his skin knitted together with synth-flesh. He could not reconcile the two images, the two men. It all seemed unreal.

  “I’ve asked about you,” Omega said. “I know you. I know you because I grew up like you. I wasn’t a slave, but I might well have been. My mother worked at things she should not have, harder than she should have, longer than she should have—just for me.”

  My mother did the same.

  “My mother worked herself to death for me,” Omega said.

  I can only hope that Shmi is well and safe.

  “What is the Force for, if not to protect what you have? Why should you give that up because you are a Jedi? The Force can bring you all the power you need. Yet the Jedi tell you that you must have nothing. Why is that?”

  “Ours is a path of service,” Anakin said.

  “And who do you serve? The Senate?” Omega laughed softly. “A group of fools who can be bought?”

  “We serve justice.”

  “Whose?”

  “Justice does not have a master.”

  “Shouldn’t it?” Omega leaned back again, resting against the pillows. “I am just a seeker, as you are. You have been told that the Sith belong to the dark side. Yet the Jedi know little of the Sith. What you don’t know could fill galaxies. Well, you do know one thing—that there is one Sith still alive. I know this, too. I wanted to be rich enough to find that Sith. Then one day I realized that was wrong. The only way I would find a Sith is if I was rich enough, powerful enough, so that he wanted to find me. I am not rich enough yet. But I will be.”

  Omega paused. “I’m not Force-sensitive. I can never be a Sith. I have found something at last that I cannot buy. But I can be close to that power. I can sit at his side, as I am sitting by your side.”

  “That’s why you attack the Jedi,” Anakin said. “You want to impress him.”

  “Yes, you see? It’s nothing personal.” Omega leaned closer to him. “Don’t you think I could have killed you if I wanted?”

  “No,” Anakin said. “I know you think you could have.”

  “I like you,” Omega said. “I liked what I saw on Haariden. Your Master you can keep. Typical Jedi.” He waved a hand. “But you…you I like.”

  “I’m honored,” Anakin said.

  “Sarcasm from a Jedi? I knew I liked you.” Omega leaned back against the cushions and crossed an ankle over his leg comfortably. “You’re different because you didn’t grow up in that Temple. You know how power works because you were ground down beneath it. You know how the powerless have only their dignity to comfort them, and how, some days, that is not enough. Not nearly enough.”

  Shmi. He had left her with nothing but her dignity.

  Mellora stood restlessly. “Let me show him.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Mellora reached into her pocket and withdrew Darra’s lightsaber. “I’ve been learning how to use it. One day I will fight a Jedi.”

  The Force he had kept at bay shot through him, revitalizing his muscles. The sight of Darra’s lightsaber in Mellora’s hand had done it. He felt strength move through him. He knew he could rise now.

  Even Omega looked amazed when he shot to his feet. He activated his lightsaber in a motion so fast they could not follow it with their eyes.

  “How about today?” he taunted, taking a step toward her. “Are you ready to fight a Jedi today?” His voice was thick and it was an effort to get the words out. He could feel his leg muscles trembling but he knew they couldn’t see it.

  “Well, well,” Omega breathed. “Impressive.”

  But the others were not so calm. They drew blasters.

  “Shoot him!” Mellora shrilled. She activated the lightsaber clumsily.

  Anakin took a step. He felt unsteady but in control. Mellora began to wave the lightsaber. She tried to execute an offensive thrust, but the lightsaber swung crazily. She was not able to balance it.

  “Mellora, don’t be foolish,” Omega warned.

  But Mellora did not drop the lightsaber, and Anakin was more afraid that she would injure herself than he was of the blasters. He knew his usual control would be off, so he would have to compensate. He could not risk a complicated move. Simple was best.

  Keeping the lightsaber in one hand, he struck out with a strong kick in order to dislodge Darra’s light­saber from her hand. But Mellora surprised him by twirling away. She was still hampered by the lightsaber, but the combination of Anakin’s slowed reaction time and her own skill caused him to miss. Anakin stumbled, and to his surprise he could not recover easily.

  He went down on one hand. Mellora smiled. She raised the lightsaber. Even she could probably manage a downward stroke.

  He called on the Force. It surged through him. He balanced on one hand and swept his feet in an arc that hit Mellora on the ankles and took her
down. Darra’s lightsaber went flying.

  The others scattered, afraid of the lightsaber, and wildly fired their blasters. Granta Omega looked up, his mouth open, his hands outstretched for the lightsaber.

  Desperately, Anakin threw himself at Granta Omega. He hit him broadside, and they both fell. The lightsaber clattered to the floor, deactivated.

  The group saw Anakin on the floor with their leader and pointed their blasters at him. He raised his own lightsaber to deflect the fire, but he could see that he would not be able to hold out for long.

  Then suddenly a blue blur appeared through the door. Metal peeled back and Obi-Wan leaped through the opening.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For a moment, no one moved. Anakin felt as though he had used up his last reserve of strength. He was sprawled on the floor, looking up at his Master. Mellora lay frozen, her eyes moving from the lightsaber on the floor to the activated one in Obi-Wan’s hand.

  Granta Omega laughed at the same moment that the blasters fired.

  Obi-Wan stepped forward, his lightsaber constantly moving, deflecting the fire. Blaster bolts pinged off the walls. Obi-Wan came and stood over Anakin, who began to try to rise.

  Granta Omega’s fingers closed over the fallen light­saber’s hilt. With the other hand, he reached down and activated a switch on a device hanging on his belt. A door in a console opened and released five seekers into the air. They honed in on Obi-Wan and peppered him with blaster fire. Obi-Wan swung his lightsaber, deflecting the fire, and leaped in the air to slash the seekers one by one. He had his hands full. Anakin watched as Granta Omega, Mellora, and the rest of the group escaped through a window. Omega held Darra’s light­saber.

  Anakin saw it happening and felt responsible again. If his Master hadn’t needed to protect him, he would have captured them all. A last surge of strength helped him down one seeker with an awkward swing from the floor. Obi-Wan took out the last two.

  He reached down and helped Anakin to his feet. “What happened?”

  “They drugged me. The mug…”

  Obi-Wan picked up the mug and shoved it in his tunic. “We’ll analyze it at the Temple.”

  “They had a Sith artifact. A Holocron pyramid. Tic is Granta Omega—”

  “I know.” Obi-Wan searched the room. “They must have taken it with them.” He crouched in front of the console. He reached in and rummaged through a travel kit. He threw aside several basic items, then held up a portable scanner. He studied it for a moment. “Now this is interesting.”

  Anakin nodded. He felt as though it took him several long minutes to complete the nod. Obi-Wan noted this and jumped to his feet.

  “We’d better get you back to the Temple.”

  Obi-Wan stood in front of the assembled Jedi Council. In one hand he held the portable scanner. He stood respectfully as the Jedi Council sat, absorbing what he had told them.

  “Certain you are of this,” Yoda said.

  “Completely.”

  “Ambitious, this Granta Omega is.”

  “That is the danger. He infiltrated the Senate expedition because he knew it was going to examine the mineral rights of Haariden. It was the Senate’s secret plan to defuse the civil war. I read the expedition’s report. It was incomplete, but it shows one thing clearly—there is an active volcano on Haariden. The mountain Kaachtari will soon have a massive eruption, an eruption so powerful it will change the coastline nearby. The titanite that has been hidden in the planet’s core will spew out with the lava. A giant tidal wave will form and cover the landmass. Sano Sauro has buried the report, but it is in the Senate archives.” Obi-Wan held up the portable scanner. “This is an underwater scanner. He is planning to mine the titanite from the sea. He will be able to do so if we don’t stop him. I believe he wants to control the bacta market for the entire galaxy.”

  “What do you wish to do, Master Kenobi?” Ki-Adi-Mundi asked. “He has not committed a crime.”

  “Not for the bacta, no, not yet,” Obi-Wan said. “Although he did use an alias to get on a Senate expedition, and that would lead to censure, at least. He has committed serious crimes against the Jedi, however. He has paid bounty hunters and soldiers to attack us on two occasions. He drugged my Padawan.”

  “This is something you know, but you must also prove,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said. His second heart pulsed in his high skull. “That is the difficulty.”

  “I can bring him back to Coruscant for questioning by the Senate,” Obi-Wan said. “At least we can prevent what he plans. He wants to gain even greater power and wealth in order to attract the hidden Sith Lord. He admitted this to Anakin.”

  “Perhaps he would attract him,” Mace Windu said. “If we let him, if we stood back and watched, we would be able to track the Sith Lord ourselves. He would be flushed out of hiding before he is ready.”

  “Are you saying we should not stop Omega?” Obi-Wan asked in disbelief.

  Mace Windu looked at him sharply. “We are not drawing conclusions. We are speculating.”

  “All sides of the issue we must examine,” Yoda said.

  Mace Windu swiveled in his chair to look out over the twinkling lights of Coruscant. “Darkness lies ahead. We can all feel it. Is this a place where we can turn? Where we can flush out our enemy and expose him?”

  “But if we don’t go after Omega, he will control the market on bacta,” Obi-Wan said. “He could do anything. Raise the price too high. Create shortages. I have no doubt he would do these things. Millions would suffer.”

  “More millions suffer in our visions of the future,” Mace said. He was still looking out at the lights. He seemed to be speaking to himself. “We see much pain.”

  “Visions can only show us what may be,” Obi-Wan said. “Granta Omega can do great harm now.”

  A buzz of conversation began among the Council Members. Mace Windu consulted with Yoda. Adi Gallia leaned over to speak with Even Piell. It was highly unusual for the Council to break into private consultations. The gravity of the issue caused it. There were too many important questions connected with it.

  “Go, Obi-Wan must.” Yaddle’s soft voice stopped the Council Members. Everyone turned to her with great courtesy. Yaddle rarely spoke, but when she did, she always seemed to sum up the conclusions they would have reached eventually.

  She blinked her light gray-blue eyes, which were so like Yoda’s. “Suffering we cannot allow in order to prevent what we fear. Stop it we must when we can.”

  Yoda leaned forward on his gimer stick. “Correct, Yaddle is. Has your Padawan recovered, Obi-Wan?”

  Obi-Wan nodded. “I have arranged transport. I can be on Haariden by sunrise.”

  “Dangerous it is,” Yoda said. “Soon, the eruption will occur. Take chances you must not.”

  “May the Force be with you,” Mace Windu said, concluding the meeting. He still looked troubled.

  Obi-Wan bowed. He left the Council chamber and hurried directly to the med clinic. Every moment counted.

  Anakin was sitting up on the med couch, swinging his legs. He was pale, but he looked up at Obi-Wan expectantly.

  “I hear you are cleared for duty,” Obi-Wan said. “Are you sure you are fully recovered?”

  Anakin nodded. “Yes. Where are we going?”

  “Back to Haariden,” Obi-Wan said. “We’re going to watch a volcano erupt.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  As the Galan starfighter shot through hyperspace, Anakin had some time to rest and think.

  The rest he needed. He did not want to tell Obi-Wan that even though the drug had worn off, his senses still felt blurred, as if there were a veil between him and every­thing else. But he knew the veil would lift. He could feel clarity returning with every passing minute.

  What he did not know was how to sort out his feelings about Granta Omega. He was not naïve enough to think that evil announced itself by knocking on one’s door with an iron fist. But he had not expected evil to come cloaked in quite so much charm.

  He had enjo
yed the earlier time he’d spent with Granta Omega. When he’d known him as Tic Verdun, he had laughed at the things he said and felt warmed by his friendship. They had not known each other long, but Anakin had to admit it: He’d felt kinship with Tic. On Haariden, he had offered him friendship. He had made him feel a little less alone.

  How could he reconcile his feelings with the knowledge that Omega’s one desire was to worship at the heart of evil? An evil that had murdered the one being who had saved Anakin from a life of slav­ery: Qui-Gon Jinn.

  Obi-Wan had been in the small ship’s library, checking the geological reports on Haariden. He came to sit by Anakin. “Not too much longer. Is there something you want to discuss with me, Padawan?”

  He wasn’t ready to talk about it. “No,” Anakin said.

  Obi-Wan hesitated. “Before I arrived, did you talk much to the others?”

  Anakin nodded. “They fed me false information about Granta Omega. They were making things up to tease me even as he sat right in front of me. I see that now. I feel foolish.”

  “It is not something to feel foolish about. Those who set out to deceive are the true fools.” Obi-Wan paused. “And Omega himself? What did you think of him?”

  The gentleness in his Master’s tone undid Anakin’s reserve. “I liked him,” he burst out. “How could I like such a being?”

  “I would guess that is because he is likable,” Obi-Wan said dryly.

  His Master’s calmness made Anakin feel better. “Shouldn’t the Force have alerted me to the dark side in him?”

  “Not necessarily,” Obi-Wan said. “The Force is not a truth-detector. We can rely on it, but we can’t expect it to save us. We must save ourselves. We must use our own intuition, our own intelligence. Your feelings about Granta Omega don’t have anything to do with the Force. They have every­thing to do with experience.”

  “Meaning I don’t have enough?”

  “Maybe,” Obi-Wan said. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have picked up on Omega’s true character, either. But I have seen enough to know that evil can wear a charming face, my young Padawan. Charisma is not a virtue. It’s a trait. It is not good or bad. Evil people can possess it. They often do and it is what makes them dangerous.”

 

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