Star Wars - Cloak Of Deception Page 19

  from the deep alleys separating the pyramids. Lacking anything in the way of

  shields, they brandished stone axes and knives, spears fashioned from the

  wooden handles of tools, and whatever other implements they had managed to

  sharpen or provide with an edge.

  Blaster bolts felled them by the score, but still they came, resolved to

  overthrow the outsiders who had robbed them of what little freedom and dignity

  they possessed.

  Qui-Gon grasped that the uprising had to have been in the works for some

  time. But determination alone wasn't going to win the day against blasters.

  He and Obi-Wan pressed their attack, Vergere off to one side of them,

  leaping high into the air and returning to the ground with her lightsaber

  slashing.

  Caught between the rebelling slaves and the Jedi, the terrorists gathered

  in two lines, one to handle each front.

  A second surprise gave Qui-Gon pause.

  Some of the terrorists were succumbing to blasterfire. It seemed

  improbable that the slaves had somehow managed to reconfigure blasters to suit

  their fingerless hands.

  Then he saw where the fire was coming from.

  Advancing in leap-frog fashion came a contingent of terrorists, led by

  the Bith who had been Qui-Gon's informant.

  Events of the day had splintered the Nebula Front into two factions the

  militants responsible for the attack on Valorum, and the moderates who had for

  so many years restricted themselves to nonviolent actions against the Trade

  Federation.

  The militants clearly hadn't anticipated insurrection by their own

  confederates. All at once the race for the grounded Cloak - Shape fighters

  became more desperate than ever.

  One of the starfighters was already lifting off on repulsorlift power.

  Realizing what was occurring below, the pilot wheeled the craft through a half

  turn and opened up with the forward laser cannons. Each hyphen of raw energy

  decimated the opposition.

  Stone blasted from the encompassing structures, and lightning-bolt walls

  whizzed through the air like shrapnel, tearing into ^th who had managed to

  flee the fatal energy beams themselves.

  Qui-Gon understood that the one starfighter could turn the tide of

  battle--not only against the alliance of slaves and moderates, but also

  against the Jedi.

  Even as he was thinking it, the hovering CloakShape began to rotate

  toward the Jedi's side of the battle arena. The wingtip lasers had swung into

  view, poised to fire, when without warning the starfighter exploded. Pieces of

  its angled wings slammed against the face of the tractor beam grid, and its

  flaming fuselage spun down into the plaza.

  Qui-Gon glanced up from where he had flattened himself to the ground. The

  landing platform was littered with white-hot wreckage, small bits of which had

  burned holes in his cloak.

  His eyes searched the plaza for signs of the weapon that had brought down

  the ship, only to grasp that the devastating bolt hadn't come from any

  downside emplacement.

  It had come from above.

  A crimson and white craft streaked overhead, so close that it rattled

  Qui-Gon's teeth.

  "Judicial Lancet," Obi-Wan said when the sound of the starfighter's

  passing had roared through.

  White veins in the blue dome of the sky told Qui-Gon that other ships

  were coming down the well.

  He swung back to regard Depa and the judicials, one of whom was speaking

  into his wrist comm. Sensing Qui-Gon's gaze on him, the judicial looked up and

  raised his left fist in a sign of confidence.

  Qui-Gon raised his gaze to the sky. From the south, a Corellian cruiser

  was on the approach.

  The sight of the descending fighters didn't deter the radicals from

  continuing their fight for the CloakShapes, however. Three more starfighters

  lifted out of the plaza. But rather than waste time pouring fire against the

  slaves, the ships rocketed off to the east, with a pair Lancets in close

  pursuit. A fourth Cloak - Shape whirred noisily to life, managing, during its

  reeling ascent, to take out an incoming Lancet.

  Off to Qui-Gon's left, the ion cannon pulsed. Dazed by a direct hit,

  another Lancet rolled over on its back and dived silently toward the parched

  ground. Shortly, an explosion boiled high into the air behind the southern

  pyramid.

  The cannon continued to send darts of disabling fire skyward, but the

  alliance of slaves and moderates were already storming the emplacement. A

  dozen warriors fell to the charge, but the rest persevered, lobbing thermal

  grenades from where they hunkered behind a toppled monument.

  A moment later the gun emplacement belched a column of howling fire and

  collapsed in on itself.

  The ongoing turmoil in the plaza had prevented the cruiser from landing.

  While it hovered at the level of the pyramid summits, hatches opened in the

  underside of the ship and twenty or more figures rappeled down on monofilament

  cables. Half of them were armed with blasters, and the rest with glowing

  lightsabers.

  The battle raged furiously for several more minutes. Then, hemmed in on

  all sides, the militants began to surrender their weapons and drop to their

  knees. Captives of the slaves, other groups were marched into the plaza with

  hands raised above their heads.

  Tiin, Depa Billaba, and some of the Jedi reinforcements started to

  meander through the devastation, gathering up weapons and tending to the

  wounded. Qui-Gon saw Yaddle standing at the entrance to the northern pyramid,

  shaking her head in dismay.

  He and Obi-Wan set out to find the Bith.

  Shortly, he saw Obi-Wan waving him over to the southwest corner of the

  plaza.

  Qui-Gon clipped his lightsaber to his belt and broke into a jog. He knew

  before he arrived that calamity was waiting.

  The Bith was curled on his side, his long-fingered hands pressed to a

  blackened hole in his midsection.

  Qui-Gon went down on one knee beside him.

  "I tried to contact you on Coruscant," the black-eyed alien began in a

  weak voice. "But after what happened at Dorvalla, Havac and the others

  suspected that there was an informant among them." "Havac?" Qui-Gon said. "Is

  he the one who had the slaves executed?" The Bith shook his large head. "He's

  just a lieutenant. Havac is the leader. But he's not onworld--many of the

  militants aren't." He paused to take a breath. "They've undone everything we

  tried to do. They've turned this into a war with the Trade Federation, and now

  the Republic." "It's over," Qui-Gon said. "You've deposed them. Save your

  strength, friend." The Bith clamped his hand on Qui-Gon's forearm.

  "It's not over. They have something dreadful planned." "Where?" Obi-Wan

  asked. "When?" The Bith turned Part way to him. "I don't know.

  The plan was kept secret from most of us. But I know that it involves

  Captain Cohl..." The Bith's words trailed off. Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's gaze on

  him. At the same time, all light fled the alien's eyes.

  "He's dead, Master," Obi-Wan said.

  "Jedi," someone said from behind Qui-Gon. The speaker wa
s a Nikto

  humanoid, flat-faced and horned.

  "I don't mean to intrude, but your friend was my friend, as well." Qui-

  Gon stood up. "What do you know about this plan involving the one he called

  Havac and Captain Cohl?" "I know that it had something to do with Karfeddion."

  "Karfeddion?" Obi-Wan repeated, while he showed the Nikto his most

  disapproving gaze.

  "The homeworld of House Vandron," Qui-Gon said. "Deep in the Senex." He

  turned back to the humanoid. "Your name?" "Cindar." "Do you know this Havac on

  sight?" "I do." Qui-Gon considered something, then said, "Come with us." He

  led the way to where Tiin, Yaddle, and some of the others were gathered in the

  plaza.

  "There's no time to sort all this out," Tiin was saying, gesturing

  broadly to ruination. "The High Council and the Judicial Department have

  ordered us to leave the Senex sector as quickly as possible." "We need to make

  one stop first," Qui-Gon interrupted. "At Karfeddion." Tiin stared at him,

  awaiting an explanation.

  "Cohl is executing another plan." Qui-Gon indicated Cindar. "This one is

  going to help us pick up Cohl's trail." Tiin and Yaddle traded brief glances.

  "Cohl is no longer working for the Front," Tiin said. "We all heard as much."

  "The plan has been a closely guarded secret.

  Someone named Havac is behind it. We must go to Karfeddion." "Impossible,

  Qui-Gon," Yaddle said, shaking her head back and forth. "Leave the Senex, we

  must." Qui-Gon squared his shoulders. "Then my Padawan and I will go." Obi-

  Wan's jaw dropped slightly.

  "Not in any of our ships, Qui-Gon," Tiin said in challenge.

  Qui-Gon glanced around. "Then we'll use the Hawk-Bat." "Making this

  personal, you are," Yaddle said.

  "Defying a direct order from the High Council, you'll be." Qui-Gon didn't

  argue the point. "My duty is to the Force, Master." Yaddle studied him for a

  long moment. "To what end, Qui - Gon? To what end?" The holobanner glowing

  through the t'bac smoke in the cantina read the tipsy mynock welcomes the

  karfeddion skull CRACKERS. A smashball team, the Skull Crackers were known

  throughout the Senex for their blatant disregard for the rules of play and for

  the lives of their opponents. A boisterous dozen of the local heroes were

  gathered in a corner of the Tipsy Mynock, raising flagons of fermented drink

  to one another and whomever happened by, growing more inebriated by the

  minute, and fairly itching to cause trouble of a major sort.

  A few booths away, Cohl and Boiny sat with a hulking human who might have

  been a member of the Skull Crackers- - had he been a few centimeters shorter

  and a lot less dangerous looking.

  A pleasant-looking humanoid female bred on one of the Karfeddion slave

  farms placed a tall shot of bright-yellow liquid in front of Cohl's guest, who

  downed the notoriously strong drink in one swallow.

  "Thanks, Captain," the human said genuinely, wiping his mouth with the

  back of his hand. "It's not often I get a taste of the real article." Cohl

  appraised Lope, as the man called himself, from across the table that

  separated them. The fact that Lope could handle himself in a brawl was beyond

  dispute.

  But the Eriadu operation would not turn on brute strength, but on a

  combination of skill and intelligence.

  Of course, situations could arise in the most carefully designed

  scenarios when it came down to muscle. But Cohl still wasn't convinced that

  Lope was suited to handle even that eventuality.

  "What's your specialty?" he asked after a moment.

  Lope planted his elbows on the table.

  "Vibroblade, stun baton, nerve pick. But I can also handle a blaster--

  BlasTechs, Merr-Sonns, Czerkas..." "But you prefer in-close work." Lope

  shrugged. "When it comes right down to it, yeah, I guess I do. Why, what's the

  job, Captain?" Cohl shook his head. "I can't tell you that unless I decide to

  bring you aboard." Lope nodded. "I understand. But I'd sure like to hire on

  with you, Captain. They don't come any better than you." Cohl ignored the

  flattery. "Where have you worked?" "Up and down the Corellian Trade Spine,

  mostly. I did a stint in the Stark Conflict.

  I'd still be in the Core, if I didn't have a price on my head for a bit

  of wet work I did on Sacorria." "Are you wanted anywhere else?" "Only there,

  Captain." Cohl was mildly encouraged. Lope was typical of the outlaws that

  fled to the outlying systems, but he wasn't a professional.

  "You have any problem working with aliens, Lope?" Lope glanced briefly at

  Boiny. "Not Rodians. Why, you've got others on your crew?" "A Gotal." Lope

  stroked his stubbled jaw. "Gotal, huh?

  I can work with those." A sudden commotion erupted at the entrance to the

  cantina, and four large and mean-looking humans shouldered their way to the

  bar. Cohl thought they might be members of the Skull Crackers or some rival

  team, until the largest among them climbed up onto the bar and fired a blaster

  bolt into the ceiling.

  "Lope, I know you're in here somewhere," he shouted while plaster dust

  drifted down around him and he scanned the tables and booths. "Where are you,

  you double-dealing slime?" Cohl glanced from the man at the bar to Lope.

  "Friend of yours?" "Not for long," Lope said, getting to his feet and waving

  his arm. "Right here, Pezzle." Pezzle squinted in Lope's direction, then

  jumped down from the bar and began to shove and barrel his way through the

  crowd, his cohorts following in his wake.

  "You're a no-good cheat," he said as soon as he reached the booth. "You

  figured you could walk out without paying us, is that it?" Cohl watched Lope

  take in everything at a glance Pezzle's raised weapon, the position of the

  other three men, how far their hands were from their blasters.

  "You weren't worth paying," Lope said flatly.

  "You only took care of one of them, and you left me to clean up after

  you." Cohl and Boiny started to slide out of the booth, but Lope put his hand

  on Cohl's shoulder. "Don't leave, Captain. This won't take a minute.

  Maybe you could consider it an audition." "All right," Cohl told him,

  settling back down.

  Customers in the adjacent booths weren't as confident as Cohl. Climbing

  over seats and whatever else stood in their way, they began to scramble out of

  the line of fire.

  Sweating profusely, Pezzle gulped and found his voice. "You'll pay now,"

  he said, flinging spittle from his thick lips.

  Cohl never saw Lope's blaster leave its holster.

  He saw the blur of Lope's right hand, he heard several weapons discharge,

  and the next thing he knew, Pezzle and his trio were piled in a heap on the

  floor.

  His smoking blaster still in hand, Lope regarded Cohl expectantly.

  "You'll do," Cohl said, nodding his head.

  Karfeddion Spaceport was a sprawl of docking bays, repair shops, and

  cantinas even seedier than the Tipsy Mynock. Nodding to the several members of

  Docking Bay 331 "s maintenance crew, Cohl, Boiny, and Lope closed on the

  battered freighter the Nebula Front had provided.

  "What happened to the Hawk-Bat, Captain?" Lope asked as he gazed

 
uncertainly at the ship.

  "Too well known for where we're headed," Cohl said.

  Cohl introduced Lope to the pair of humans who were standing at the foot

  of the freighter's boarding ramp.

  "Captain," one of them said in a scratchy voice, "some dame is waiting

  for you in the forward compartment." "Who? "Cohl said.

  "She wouldn't say." Cohl and Boiny traded looks. "Maybe it's that bounty

  hunter you were searching for," the Rodian suggested.

  "I've got another idea," Cohl said, without elaborating.

  "You don't think--was "Who else could it be? The only thing I can't

  figure is how she found me." "Maybe she attached a tracker to some part of you

  before she left," Boiny suggested.

  They left Lope and the others to get acquainted and climbed the ramp.

  "Did I tell you she would miss me?" Cohl asked over his shoulder as soon

  as he had stepped into the forward hold.

  Rella was sitting in Cohl's chair, with her long legs crossed.

  "You're right, Cohl," she said. "I couldn't stay away--but not for the

  reasons you think." Her outfit of tunic, trousers, capelet, and cowl was made

  of a silvery metallic fiber that shimmered as she moved.

  "By the look of you, I'd say you've been dipping too deeply into your

  retirement fund, and you need the credits." She scowled at him. "Is it safe to

  talk in here?" Cohl nodded to Boiny, who ena4 the cabin's security system.

  "I've been hearing rumors that you're putting together a new crew," Rella

  said when Cohl sat down.

  He shrugged. "What else could I do after you walked out on me?" She

  didn't even crack a smile. "The way I hear it, you're in the market for

  lookouts and second-rate exterminators--like that brute you just brought in."

  "Tough jobs call for tough personnel." Rella looked him in the eye. "What have

  you gotten yourself into, Cohl? Be straight with me--for old times" sake."

  Cohl considered it, then said, "It's an execution." She nodded knowingly.

  "Who's the target?" "Valorum--on Eriadu." Rella seemed to shrink in the chair,

  as if her worst fears had been realized. "You can't do this, Cohl." He laughed

  shortly. "You're welcome to watch." "Listen to me," she started to say.

  "What, you bought yourself some scruples to go along with the new outfit-

  -the new you?" "Scruples? Don't insult me, Cohl." "Then what is it about

  Valorum?" She shook her head. "It's not about Valorum.

  It's about you--your reputation. Without even trying, I found out that