Darth Plagueis Page 4

  Plagueis locked eyes with him. “I apologize for spoiling some of your cargo.”

  “The coolant,” Lah said more harshly. “How did you survive that?”

  “We Muuns have three hearts,” Plagueis said, crossing one leg over the other. “Two of them are under voluntary control, so I was able to keep my blood circulating and my body temperature close to normal.”

  Standing by the open container, the Quara said, “Speaking of blood, you’re leaking some.”

  Plagueis saw that some of the sea creatures were coated with congealed blood. “The result of an unfortunate accident. But thank you for noticing.”

  Lah shifted her gaze from the container to Plagueis. “We have a medical droid. I’ll have it take a look at your injury.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Captain.”

  “You’re a long way from the Braxant Run,” the Kaleesh said. “And probably the last species we’d expect to find stowing away in a cargo container.”

  Plagueis nodded in agreement. “I can well imagine.”

  “Kon’meas Spaceport has passenger flights to Bimmisaari,” the Zabrak added. “You couldn’t wait, or you’re out of credits?”

  “To be honest, I wished to avoid the common spaceways.”

  Lah and the Zabrak traded dubious looks. “Are you a fugitive?” she asked. “Wanted?”

  Plagueis shook his head. “I do, however, value my privacy.”

  “Well you might,” the Quara said. “But you have to admit—” He motioned to the bloody sea creatures. “—this undermines your credibility some.”

  “What brought you to Bal’demnic, Muun?” the Klatooinian asked before Plagueis could speak.

  “I’m not at liberty to divulge the nature of my activities.”

  “Banking Clan investments,” the Klatooinian said with a sneer. “Or lawyering. That’s all the Muuns do, Captain.”

  Lah appraised Plagueis. “Is he right?”

  Plagueis shrugged. “Not all of us are bankers or lawyers. No more than all Togrutas are pacifists.”

  “Be better for you if you were a financial wizard,” the Zabrak said, “to avoid being jettisoned from our ship.”

  Plagueis kept his eyes on Lah. “Captain, I appreciate that you and your crew have many questions about me. But perhaps for the sake of simplicity, the two of us could speak privately for a moment.” When she hesitated, he added: “Strictly in the interest of facilitating an agreement.”

  Lah glanced at everyone, then set her jaw and nodded. “I won’t be long,” she told the Zabrak as he was exiting the bay. “But keep us on vid anyway.”

  The Zabrak shot Plagueis a gimlet stare as he spoke. “If you are long, we’ll be returning soon enough.”

  Plagueis waited until he and Lah were alone. “Thank you, Captain.”

  She scowled. “Enough of the polite jabber. Who are you, and why didn’t you leave Bal’demnic aboard whatever craft brought you there?”

  Plagueis loosed an elaborate sigh. “Before we go into any of that, suppose we assess the present situation squarely. I’ve stowed away aboard your vessel in the hope of arranging quick passage to Muunilinst.” Speaking in Basic, Plagueis pronounced the word with the second n silent. “Fortunately for both of us, I’m in a position to reward you handsomely for transport — and of course I’ll cover the cost of whatever precious cargo I’ve ruined. You need only quote a reasonable price and the deal can be concluded. I assure you, Captain, that I am a Muun of my word.”

  Her eyes narrowed in misgiving. “Leaving aside your identity for the moment — you know, the important things — your onward passage is a matter I’ll have to take up with the crew.”

  Plagueis blinked in genuine confusion. “I’m not sure I understand. You are the Woebegone’s captain, are you not?”

  “We’re equals aboard this ship,” Lah said. “I don’t make any major decisions without at least hearing everyone out — whether those decisions involve the cargo we transport or where we deliver it. And while you’re trying to make up your mind whether I’m noble or simply foolish, let me add that I don’t care what you think of the arrangement. As you said: it’s the situation.”

  Plagueis smiled without showing his teeth. “In that case, Captain, I await the results of the summit.”

  Lah relaxed somewhat. “You’re going to have to sit tight in the meantime.”

  Plagueis took the conditions in stride. “Take as much time as needed. The closer we get to Ithor, the closer I am to home.”

  The words stopped her cold. “How do you know we’re bound for Ithor?”

  “The same way I know that your name is Ellin Lah.” Delighting in her confusion, Plagueis said: “I’m not a telepath, Captain Lah. After I selected your ship from among those on the field, I sliced into Bal’demnic’s spaceport network.”

  She tilted her head in a mix of interest and unease. “Why the Woebegone, then?”

  Plagueis sniffed. “I don’t gamble, Captain, unless I know that the odds of winning are on my side.”

  She snorted. “That’s not gambling.”

  In the main cabin space, 11-4D had been monitoring the conversation of the crew members since their return from cargo bay 4. The closest thing the Woebegone had to an actual medical specialist, the droid was responsible for the care and health of the crew, and so it had grown accustomed to eavesdropping on conversations whenever and wherever possible. Having created individual profiles based on heartbeat and breathing rates, body temperature and language, facial expression and vocalization, the droid understood that the discovery of a Muun intruder aboard the ship had significantly elevated Maa Kaap’s stress level.

  “When have you ever known a Muun to do that?” the Zabrak was saying.

  “When have you ever known a Muun, period?” Wandau asked in kind.

  “All right, then, when have you ever heard about a Muun doing that?”

  Before Maa Kaap or anyone else could respond, the captain entered the cabin space, clearly confounded though doing her best to disguise it. 11-4D noted increased blood flow in her head-tails, which were themselves sensory organs, and a change in her pigmentation — a Togruta response to nervous tension that sometimes prompted involuntary mimetic camouflage.

  “So,” Maa Kaap said, coming to his feet.

  The crew members listened intently as Captain Lah summarized the short exchange she’d had with the Muun stowaway, who had refused to provide any personal details, not even his name. Nor had he offered explanation for his presence on Bal’demnic, or divulged the reason behind his wanting to depart in haste. Most important, he had revealed nothing about the cause or nature of his injury. Instead he had fixed on arranging a deal for passage to Muunilinst, a world on the distant Braxant Run and corporate headquarters of the InterGalactic Banking Clan.

  “What’s your gut telling you about him, Captain?” PePe asked, his pointed ears twitching in curiosity.

  Captain Lah glanced back at the corridor that led to cargo bay 4. “He’s as slick as they come and used to getting his way. But either we take him back to Bal’demnic — and put our cargo at risk — or we drop him at our first stop and make him someone else’s problem.”

  “Or we just jettison him now,” Wandau said.

  Lah shook her head. “We don’t know he didn’t tell someone on Bal’demnic that he was stowing away. And if he did, his disappearance could put us in serious muck.”

  “What’s it going be, then?” Maa Kaap pressed.

  Lah made her lips a thin line. “I think we should get him off our hands as soon as possible.”

  Wandau and Zuto exchanged glances. “You don’t want to even discuss coming up with a price for passage?”

  “I’ve never been on the Braxant Run,” Lah said. “Have any of you?”

  Heads shook.

  “Is he willing to cover the cost of the spoiled cargo?” PePe asked.

  “He said he would.”

  “Then maybe we take him to Ithor,” the Kaleesh went on. “If he pr
oves to be a cooperative passenger, we could consider taking him all the way to Muunilinst. Certainly wouldn’t hurt to get familiar with that corner of space.”

  “I don’t know …” Lah took her lower lip between her teeth.

  “I’ll go one step further,” Zuto said, leading with his whiskered snout. “I mean, this Muun could be a jackpot that’s fallen right into our laps. Weren’t you just saying that no bank would ever grant us a loan against the Woebegone? Well, Muunilinst is the bank, and this Muun can provide all the collateral we’ll ever need.”

  “Our reward for years of leading clean lives,” PePe added.

  Lah regarded the two of them. “Meaning what? We hold him for ransom?”

  Zuto drew in his tusks and shrugged. “We don’t have to call it that.”

  “Forget it,” Lah said. “We’ve never done that — well, once, maybe — but we’re not about to do it again.”

  “I agree,” Maa Kaap said.

  Wandau’s head bobbed. “Same.”

  PePe withdrew somewhat. “Okay, so I was just thinking out loud.”

  “There’s something else,” Maa Kaap said. Raising his big hand, he beckoned to 11-4D. “Tell the captain what you were telling us.”

  The droid moved to where the crew members were gathered and swiveled its round head toward Lah. “Captain, I merely pointed out that Muuns are not known to travel unaccompanied without ample reasons for doing so. In fact, most Muuns are reluctant to leave Muunilinst for any purpose other than to transact business negotiations.”

  “That’s exactly what I was saying about collateral,” PePe interrupted. “There has to be some financial reason for his being on Bal’demnic — some major deal in the works we might be able to get in on. A construction project, maybe.”

  “Let FourDee finish,” Maa Kaap said.

  Lah looked at the droid. “Go ahead.”

  “It has yet to be determined just what the Muun was involved in. Suppose, however, that the nature of his business is going to impact Bal’demnic in a negative way. Should word spread that the crew of the Woebegone lent their support to the Muun’s illegal departure, then what might become of the ship’s reputation in the Auril sector? You may wish to include the worth of that in your calculations regarding an arrangement for onward passage.”

  Maa Kaap folded his arms across his barrel chest. “Is our stowaway going to offer to set each of us up for life, in case our services are no longer wanted in this sector?”

  “What about what the Muuns can do to us if we don’t take him,” Zuto said. “They’ve got a reach as long as a galactic arm.”

  Wandau laughed without mirth. “What are they going to do — downgrade our portfolios? Freeze our assets? Ruin our credit rating? Our only assets are this ship and our reputation for doing what we say we’re going to do.”

  “Mostly,” Maa Kaap said quietly.

  PePe slapped his hands on his thighs. “Goes back to what I said about asking for a lot more than what he might see as a fair price. These Banking Clan types hold on to every credit. But we’ve got ourselves a live Muun, and no matter who he is or what he’s pretending to be, I guarantee you he’s worth more than ten years of dealing in meattails and octopods.”

  Maa Kaap broke the short silence. “Captain?”

  “I’m not swayed by any of this,” she said after a moment. “I want him off our hands.”

  A look of puzzlement tugged at Zuto’s features. “You think he’s dangerous?”

  PePe ridiculed the idea. “Muuns are cowards, the lot of them. They use credits as weapons.”

  Lah took a long breath. “You asked for my gut reaction. That’s what I’m giving you.”

  “I’ve an idea,” Maa Kaap said. “A kind of compromise. We drop out of hyperspace and comm the authorities on Bal’demnic. If this Muun’s wanted, for whatever reason, we return him, cargo or no. If not, we decide on a figure for taking him to Ithor, and no farther.” He looked at Lah. “Are you willing to take that deal to him? Captain?”

  Lah responded as if her words had just caught up with her thoughts. “All right. That sounds reasonable.” But she remained seated.

  “Do you, uh, want backup?” Wandau asked after another long moment had passed.

  “No, no,” she said, finally getting to her feet.

  I’m the captain, 11-4D could almost hear her remind herself. Focusing its photoreceptors, it observed her right hand move discreetly to the blaster holstered on her hip. And with a flick of her thumb, she primed the weapon for fire.

  * * *

  “We’re going to have to keep you on ice for a bit longer,” Lah said when she entered the cargo bay. Plagueis hadn’t moved from the container that served as his seat, but his robe was parted and his hands rested on the tops of his knees.

  “Does that mean you failed to reach a consensus?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Lah said. “We’ve decided we need to know who you are before we agree to provide you with passage. And since you seem reluctant to tell us, we’re going to check with Bal’demnic.”

  Plagueis made his eyes dull with disappointment. “Captain, I’ve told you all you really need to know.”

  The Woebegone lurched slightly. “We’re dropping out of hyperspace,” Lah said.

  In his mind Plagueis heard Darth Tenebrous say: To we who dwell in the Force, normal life is little more than pretense. Our only actions of significance are those we undertake in service to the dark side.

  “I can’t permit this, Captain,” he told her.

  Her expression hardened. “I’m afraid you’ll have to.”

  He had been aware from the start of the conversation that her blaster was primed, and now her hand reached for it. Sharp canines glinted in her slightly open mouth. Had he truly believed that a deal could be arranged with the Woebegone’s hot-tempered and immature crew members? Their fates had been sealed from the instant Plagueis had glimpsed the ship on the landing field. The possibility of reaching any other conclusion was fictional. From that first moment, all of them had been locked into an inevitable series of events. The Force had brought them together, into conflict. Even Lah must have sensed as much.

  Plagueis said: “Don’t, Captain.”

  But by then the warning was nothing more than words.

  4: THE MEANING OF DEATH

  The Woebegone had just reverted to realspace when 11-4D’s audio sensors registered unusual sounds from aft: an activation click, a prolonged hiss of energy, a dopplering slash, a stuttering exhalation of breath. The sounds were followed by a sudden outpouring of heat from the corridor that accessed the cargo bays and what might have been interpreted as a gust of wind. Only by adjusting the input rate of its photoreceptors was the droid able to identify the blur that raced into the cabin space as a male Muun dressed in a hooded robe, trousers, and softboots that reached his shins.

  Maa Kaap, PePe, Wandau, and Zuto turned in unison as the Muun came to a momentum-defying stop a few meters from where the four of them were seated. Clenched in his right hand was a crimson-bladed energy device the droid’s data bank recognized as a lightsaber — a weapon used almost exclusively by members of the Jedi Order. And yet the recognition prompted a moment of bewilderment. The Jedi were known to be guardians of peace and enforcers of justice, but the Muun’s comportment — the set of his long limbs, the feral working of his jutting jaw, the yellow blaze in his eyes — suggested anything but peace. As for justice, 11-4D couldn’t retrieve a single instance of the four crew members having performed an offense that warranted capital punishment.

  The humming lightsaber dangling from his left hand, the Muun remained silent, letting his posture speak for his nefarious intent. In turn the crew members, realizing that they were being wrongly accused, clambered to their feet, reaching at the same time for the weapons strapped to their hips and thighs. That the Muun permitted them to do so furnished 11-4D with yet another mystery — at least until it realized that the Muun was merely courting combat.

  The dr
oid wondered what Captain Lah could possibly have said or done to arouse so much wrath in the Muun. It replayed the memory of her priming the blaster. Had she decided that the problems the Muun presented for the Woebegone could best be solved by killing him, only to have misjudged him entirely? Regardless, it was apparent that the Muun believed the entire ship complicit in Captain Lah’s actions, and had decided to take it upon himself to mete out retribution of the cruelest sort. 11-4D assumed that this would include him, and instantly initiated a series of redundant routines that would back up and store data, in order to provide a record of what was about to occur.

  The face-off tableau in the cabinspace had endured for only a moment when Wandau, who had served as a bodyguard for a celebrated Hutt, leapt into action, drawing and firing his blaster even as he raced for cover behind one of the bulkheads. A split second behind, Maa Kaap raised his weapon and fired a continuous hail of blaster bolts at the Muun. In the same instant Zuto and PePe, crouched low to the deck, sprang forward in an attempt to outflank their opponent and place him at the center of a deadly crossfire.

  From the passageway that led to the cockpit came the rapid footfalls of the pilot, Blir’, and the ship’s Dresselian navigator, Semasalli. 11-4D knew that they had been monitoring cam feeds of the cargo bay, and thought it likely that they had witnessed whatever sentence the Muun had levied on Captain Lah.

  The Muun’s reaction to the barrage of bolts that converged on him required almost more processing power than the droid had at its disposal. By employing a combination of body movements, lightsaber, and naked right hand, the agile sentient evaded, deflected, or returned every shot that targeted him. Slowly surrendering energy, the bolts caromed from the deck and bulkheads, touching off alarms, prompting a switch to emergency illumination, and unleashing cascades of fire-suppressant foam from the ceiling aerosols. No sooner had the Balosar and the Dresselian entered the cabinspace than hatches sealed the corridors, preventing any escape from the melee. Only 11-4D’s ability to calculate trajectories and react instantaneously to danger kept it from being on the receiving end of any of the numerous ricochets.