Treason - Timothy Zahn

by Star Wars

  “We’re here to do a job,” Pik said. “Get in, do it, and get out.”

  “Yeah,” Sisay said. “About that.” She lifted a finger—

  And from behind Eli came the sound of blasters being drawn from their holsters.

  “You’re making a big mistake,” he said, trying one last time. “You mess up our mission, and you’ll be very sorry the Hutts know who you are.”

  “We’ll see,” Sisay said calmly. “I think we’ll start with the simple stuff: electrodes, flash-pows, drifties. The stuff that doesn’t do any real damage, or at least nothing permanent. Lots of places to go from there if we need to. Each of you in different rooms, of course—can’t have you running stories off each other.”

  “If we miss that ship—” Eli began.

  “We’ll be very, very sorry,” Sisay cut him off. “Yeah, we got it. So. Anyone want to tell me anything before we get started?”

  Eli took a careful breath. It wasn’t over, he told himself firmly. Not by a long shot. Even if Sisay suspected they were ISB infiltrators, she and her people would hardly be prepared to deal with a pair of death troopers. Surely either Pik or Waffle would find an opening; and once one of them was free, he should be able to grab the others and get out of here.

  Of course, that would still leave them in a building and a neighborhood dominated by Sisay’s gang. But they would cross that ramp when they reached it.

  “Just that you’re wasting everyone’s time,” he said. “But I can see you don’t care.”

  “That’s right, we don’t,” Sisay said. “Okay, let’s see. The man with the mouth can go in room one. Snick—sorry; Ronan—he can go in room two—”

  She broke off as a soft tap came from outside. The door opened and one of the men who’d been lounging by the stairs stuck his head in. “Sorry, boss,” he said apologetically. “But Mole’s here. He says—”

  “Who?” Sisay interrupted.

  “Mole,” the man repeated. “He’s Parpa’s new slicer.”

  “I know who he is,” Skulk said. “Parpa says he’s the greatest thing since tomo ribenes. What does he want?”

  “He says he can’t find Parpa and needs to talk to him right away. He thought you might know where he is.”

  “Who does he think we are, the Smuggler Information Bureau?” Skulk growled. “Tell him to get lost.”

  “No, wait,” Sisay said, throwing a thoughtful look at Eli. “You say he’s a slicer?”

  “Slicer, repro—does lots of computer and droid stuff,” Skulk said.

  “Including data forgery?”

  “Probably,” Skulk said, looking at Eli, too, as sudden understanding came into his voice. “You think?”

  “Why not?” Sisay gestured. “Send him in.”

  Eli looked at the passes lying on the desk, a hollow feeling in his stomach. A decent slicer would declare them to be excellent forgeries, all right.

  Unfortunately, an expert slicer would recognize them as the genuine article.

  He shifted his attention to Pik’s profile. There was no indication that the death trooper had any idea of the trap that had opened up in front of them. Somehow, Eli had to alert him to be ready to take action.

  The door opened wider, revealing a thin, nervous-looking man in a neat but slightly worn tunic, a datapad gripped in both hands in front of his chest. “Sorry to bother you, Ms. Sisay,” he said, his voice as twitchy as his face. He shot a glance at Skulk standing behind her, an equally quick look at the four Imperials, and took a tentative step forward. “I need to talk to Mr. Parpa,” he went on, the words coming out in a tangled rush. “He wanted me to reroute some shipping idents, but he wasn’t clear about two of them, and I really need to talk to him, only I can’t find him—he’s always doing this to me—and I hoped you’d know—”

  “Okay, okay—hold it,” Sisay cut him off. “First: I don’t know where Parpa is.”

  “Oh,” Mole said, hunching his shoulders. “Right. I’m so sorry—”

  “Second,” Sisay went on, raising her voice over his, “I’m sure he’ll be back before you need to know about those other shipments.”

  “Oh, no, Ms. Sisay, you don’t know Mr. Parpa,” Mole said. “He’s always doing this to me—running off without full explanations—”

  “Third,” Sisay said, beckoning him forward, “I’ve got a little job of my own for you.”

  “I—” Mole broke off, blinking. “A job? But I—I don’t work for you. And Mr. Parpa might not like it if—”

  “It’s five-minute job,” Sisay again cut in, her voice starting to sound a little strained. “Parpa will never know, and you’ll make a little extra money for the week.”

  “I—I don’t know,” Mole said, starting to stammer. “Parpa—he knows everything. If he catches me…” He looked at the Imperials, then started to look back at Sisay.

  And Eli saw his gaze catch on the data cards lying on the desk. “What are those?” he asked, craning his neck a little. “Are those Imperial ident data cards?”

  “That’s what we want you to tell us,” Sisay said. “That’s the job. Still not interested?”

  “Oh. Well. I…” Mole looked at the Imperials again. His eyes shifted to something behind Eli—“Whoa!” he gasped. “Is that—? Whoa!”

  Eli looked over his shoulder. The searchers had dug Ronan’s uniform out of his carrybag and laid it out over the edge of a side table.

  “Is it real?” Mole asked as Eli turned back again. “It looks real. It’s not real, is it?”

  “You can check it out later if you want,” Sisay said, picking up one of the data cards and holding it out. “This first.”

  “Oh,” Mole said. “Right.” Stepping to the desk, shying away from Waffle’s stare as he passed the death trooper, he took the card from her and plugged it into his datapad.

  Eli braced himself. If Mole was good enough, here was where he and the others were going to have to make their move.

  He tried to catch Pik’s eye, hoping to alert him. But Pik’s full attention was on Mole. Eli could only hope he’d already figured it out.

  Casually, he looked around. When Pik made his move, he decided, he would jump up, spin around, and throw his chair at the men still behind him.

  Assuming, of course, that he could even lift the chair. It had seemed pretty solid when he first sat in it, and it might turn out to be too heavy to be a good weapon. He eased backward a couple of centimeters, leaning against the chair’s back. Definitely solidly built, but he couldn’t get a real feel for the weight.

  He hated not having all the information he needed, an attitude he’d no doubt picked up while serving with Thrawn. Thrawn made up for any gaps in his data by being good at improvisation, a talent Eli sorely lacked.

  He didn’t know if the chair would work. But with nothing else close at hand, he would just have to risk it.

  Still, he couldn’t help wondering if Thrawn would have come to that same conclusion and decision, or if he’d have come up with some other plan.

  Eli felt a wry smile twitch his lips. Of course Thrawn would have another plan. His plan would have been to never get himself into a situation like this in the first place.

  “What’s so funny?” Sisay demanded.

  Eli started. He hadn’t realized his smile had been that visible. “I was just thinking about what the Hutts will say if you mess up our mission.”

  “If you even know the Hutts,” she said.

  “Oh, he knows the Hutts,” Mole said, looking up at last from the datapad. “Or maybe he knows someone who knows someone who knows the Hutts. Anyway.” He pulled out the data card and wiggled it between his fingers. “It’s good work. It’s really good work.”

  “Did the Hutts make it?” Skulk asked.

  Mole blinked at him. “How did you know that? I just figured it out myself.”
r />   “Because you just told us,” Sisay said.

  “Oh.” Mole blinked again, then frowned at the data card. “Well, I mean it might be Huttese. They don’t exactly sign their work. No one does, really, except a forger I knew once named Hollander. He had a strange—”

  “Is it a forgery?” Skulk bellowed.

  “Yes,” Mole said hastily, cringing back. “Yes. A very good one. It should pass just fine.”

  “Thank you,” Sisay said icily. “You can go now. Brackis, walk him out. Get him a hundred-credit chit on the way.”

  “Oh,” Mole said. “Yes. Thank you.” He stepped forward and laid the data card carefully back on the desk. “You’ve got the new entry pass for him, too, right?”

  “What entry pass?” Sisay asked.

  “The new entry pass,” Mole repeated, frowning. “The one Governor What’s-Her-Name set up.”

  “Governor Haveland?” Eli asked.

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” Mole said. “No one gets into the Imperial part of the spaceport without one.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “Doesn’t matter. A guy who can make idents like this will breeze right through it.”

  “Except the guy who made the ident isn’t here,” Eli growled. “When exactly did this new pass go into effect?”

  “I—” Mole looked at Sisay, then Skulk, then back at Eli. “I don’t know. A few hours ago. A day. Maybe two. But like I said…oh. He’s not here?”

  “No,” Eli ground out. Damn. Was this just some crazy coincidence of rotten timing?

  Or was Haveland onto them? Could someone have tipped her off that her hand had been spotted inside the Stardust goodie jar?

  But that was impossible. The only people who knew Thrawn had cracked this thing were on the Chimaera.

  Or were right here in this room.

  He shifted his gaze to Ronan…to find that Ronan was likewise looking at him.

  “Well, okay, no big deal,” Mole rattled on. “You need a pass? I can make you one.”

  “I thought they were special,” Sisay said.

  “Well, sure,” Mole said. “But there’s special and there’s special. Anyway, what I heard was that they’re changing them out every couple of days, so they don’t have to be really too great.”

  “Every couple of days?” Eli echoed. “Do you know when they’ll change them again?”

  “In a couple of days, I suppose,” Mole said. “I mean, I suppose I could look it up. Or I could just make him one?” he added, looking questioningly at Sisay.

  “How long would it take?” Sisay asked.

  “For one?” Mole shrugged. “A couple of—”

  “For four,” Pik corrected.

  Mole blinked. “Four? Oh. Well, now you’re talking five or six hours.”

  “Fine,” Sisay said. “I want a few more hours with them anyway. Go get whatever you need and bring it over.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Mole protested. “I can’t work here. Mr. Parpa said—”

  “I don’t care what Parpa said,” Sisay cut him off. “You go get your stuff. I’ll square it with Parpa.”

  Mole huffed out a sigh. “Okay,” he said reluctantly. “But it’ll take an hour to pack up and a couple of porter droids to get it over here. It’ll be easier if we take them to Parpa’s and I do it all there.”

  “You’ll do it here,” Sisay said in a voice that left no room for further argument.

  For a wonder, Mole got the message. “Okay,” he said again. “So do they want to be visiting the harbormaster or the dock manager or someone else?”

  “Does it matter?” Skulk asked.

  “Of course,” Mole said, as if it were obvious. “The passes are personalized. They have to be validated by the right person.”

  “We don’t want to see anyone in particular,” Eli said. “All we really want is to get to one of the Imperial cargo ships that’ll be heading out soon.”

  “Really?” Mole said, brightening. “That’s all? Great. In that case, why don’t I just take you into the Imperial section through the back door?”

  “What back door?” Sisay asked, frowning.

  “The back door,” Mole repeated, frowning in turn. “The back door.”

  “Yes, we heard you the first time,” Skulk growled. “There’s no back door into the Imperial docking area.”

  “Well, not an official one,” Mole said. “And it’s, y’know.” He held his hands a dozen centimeters apart. “Narrow. People can get through, but no cargo. No big droids, either. I heard of a guy who tried to get a B2 super battle droid through, and—”

  “How come I’ve never heard about this?” Sisay demanded, an ominous edge to her voice.

  “How should I know?” Mole said, cringing back a little from her stare. “You want me to take you there? I can take you there.” He sent a jerking glance around the room. “I can take all of you.”

  “How about you just take us?” Eli said, feeling a faint whisper of cautious hope. Whether or not Mole was right about a secret entrance, this might be their best chance to lose Sisay and the others. “If that’s okay with you,” he added acerbically to Sisay.

  “Nice of you to ask,” Sisay said. “Brackis, get their stuff back in their bags. You, Grimkle, and Porff will go with them.”

  Eli suppressed a curse. So much for getting clear of the gang. “Thanks for the offer, but we don’t need to make a parade out of this,” he said.

  “Did I say anything to suggest that it was optional?” Sisay asked mildly. “You know, on second thought, I think Skulk and I will join you, too. Everyone loves a good parade.” She got to her feet. “Hurry it up, Brackis.”

  “Finished,” Brackis said, resealing the carrybags. “All set.”

  “Great.” Sisay stood up, scooping up the IDs and dropping her hand to rest on the butt of her blaster. “Mole, lead the way. Brackis behind him.” She gestured toward the door. “Gentlemen?”

  * * *

  —

  Eli had hoped that the walk this time would be as long as the last one, giving them time to find a way to ditch Sisay and the others and make their own, more private way to the proper part of the spaceport.

  It wasn’t going to be easy. As soon as they left the building, Sisay had re-formed the group into a sort of moving double ring, with Eli, Ronan, and the two death troopers in the center and Sisay and her men hemming them in around the edges. Mole walked in front, completely oblivious to the tension behind him.

  Still, if the trip was long enough, the others’ vigilance might waver. Eli kept an eye on their captors as they walked, as well as watching the pedestrians, carts, and kiosks. If the opportunity presented itself, he had to be ready to move.

  But they’d only been walking for about three minutes when Sisay moved up beside Mole. “How much farther?” she asked.

  “Not very,” he said. “Couple of blocks.”

  Eli mouthed a curse. They’d seen the wall to the commercial section of the port from Sisay’s place, but he’d assumed Mole’s back door would lead through the wall that isolated the Imperial part from the rest. Apparently, the route was through the commercial section instead.

  “See, there’s the perimeter wall up there—see it?” Mole continued, pointing. “That wall with the sensor wire and percher guard droids—”

  “Yes, I see it,” Sisay said. “Where’s this secret back door?”

  “It’s supposed to be in a condemned building running along—”

  “Supposed to be? You mean you haven’t seen it?”

  “Of course not,” Mole said, sounding bewildered. “Why would I need to go to the spaceport?”

  “Right.” Shaking her head, Sisay fell back to the main group.

  But instead of rejoining them, she drifted farther back, losing herself in the crowd. Eli glanced over his shoulder a couple of times but wasn�
��t able to spot her.

  He was starting to wonder if she’d ditched them when she reappeared on the other side of the ring. “Trouble?” Skulk asked.

  She shook her head. “Thought I saw something. False alarm.”

  Skulk nodded and gestured down the street. “It’s that blue house up ahead,” he said. “Mole just pointed it out.”

  “Okay,” she said. “You go in with him; I’ll bring up the rear. Blasters out as soon as we’re inside.”

  The door to the blue house, not surprisingly, was locked. Fortunately, Mole had brought something that was able to quickly pop it open. “It should be in the back,” he said over his shoulder as he walked in. “Hurry up before someone sees us.”

  “Yeah, because there can’t be more than a hundred people out here,” Sisay muttered under her breath as she took Eli’s arm and gave him a shove through the doorway.

  A minute later they were inside a spacious, high-ceilinged foyer decorated with faded geometric shapes. “Should be back here,” Mole said, pointing toward a long hallway ahead. “The back butts up against the wall, and—”

  “Don’t bother,” Sisay said. Her blaster was out now and pointed at Eli. “We’re not going any farther.”

  “We’re not?” Mole asked, blinking at her. “Then why are we here?”

  “Because I figured this would be easier than having to lug a bunch of bodies out of my office,” Sisay said.

  “What the hell?” Eli demanded as the other pirates stepped back from the four Imperials, their weapons already out and ready. “I thought we had a deal.”

  “You thought wrong,” Sisay said. “Where’s your mark?”

  “My what?”

  “Your mark,” Sisay repeated. “People who work for the Hutts are always given a mark.” She held her left hand out toward him, spreading it open to reveal a small black spot in the skin between the middle and ring fingers. “Here’s mine. Where’s yours?”

  Eli clenched his teeth. He’d never even heard of that. “Not all the Hutts do that,” he hedged.

  “All of them do it,” Sisay retorted. She closed her hand and lowered it to her side. “If you don’t have a mark, that means you lied about the Hutt connection. If you lied about that, you probably lied about everything else.” She lifted the blaster a little higher. “I don’t like people who lie to me.”