Allegiance (28 page)

[He will come alone?] Slanni asked.

“Yes, as always,” Chivkyrie assured him.

“Then let’s go,” Leia said, trying to push back the feeling of imminent danger weighing on her mind. After all, even if Governor Choard was playing games, there
was no reason for him or Disra to change the pattern on this particular contact. “I’d like a few minutes to look around the area before Disra arrives.”

It had been a rotten day already, and Disra was glowering silently to himself as he paid the air taxi fare and stepped out into the crowded streets of downtown Makrin City. A miserable day, full of frustrations and setbacks; and with yet another of these interminable meetings with Chivkyrie and his stuffed-vest Adarian etiquette waiting for him, things weren’t going to get better anytime soon. As far as Disra was concerned, the sooner this whole thing was over, the better.

Suddenly everything was going wrong. Caaldra’s taps into the Imperial databases hadn’t come up with anything on this alleged Imperial agent of his, the stormtrooper squads that had hit Drunost and Ranklinge had disappeared without a trace, and now the cargo ship Caaldra had been counting on to fill in for the missing blaster rifles had also apparently vanished, taking one of the BloodScars’ ships with it.

Something was happening out there, something bad. They needed a handle on it, and they needed it fast.

Lost in thought, he didn’t even notice Chivkyrie until the Adarian fell into step beside him. “Admin—Friend Seeker,” Chivkyrie said, stumbling as always over his natural tendency to greet Disra with his proper title. “We are honored with your presence. This way, please.”

Disra frowned as Chivkyrie angled off to the left.
We
? Had the idiot brought some of his Rebel underlings or, worse, a few of his servants? All the day needed to be a complete and total disaster would be for his name to be leaked in public where a wandering Imperial spy could catch it.

They rounded a cluster of miniature mii trees and came in sight of one of the negotiation tables scattered
strategically throughout the flower market. Seated around it, looking alert and tense, were a shaggy-maned Mungra, a typically ugly Ishi Tib—

And Princess Leia Organa, of the late and unlamented world of Alderaan.

Disra felt his breath catch like burning coals in his throat. One of the most wanted fugitives in the galaxy, sitting not five meters away from him.

In Disra’s own city.

Momentum kept his feet moving; years of political maneuvering kept his face from revealing the thoughts behind it. By the time he seated himself in one of the two empty chairs at the table his brain was back under control. “Greetings to you all,” he said as Chivkyrie sat down beside him. “My friend didn’t mention he was bringing guests.”

“These are Aurek, Besh, and Cresh,” Chivkyrie said, gesturing to Organa, the Mungra, and the Ishi Tib in turn.

The first three letters of the alphabet. How terribly original. “Honored,” Disra said, remembering to add a little caution to his smile, as befit a man who was supposedly conspiring to commit high treason. “Colleagues of my friend Seeker, I presume?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Organa said evenly. Her face, trained in the same schools as Disra’s, was giving nothing away.

Disra glanced around. No one was paying any particular attention to them, and the tables in the market had built-in sonic damper fields to allow for private haggling. “I’m sure you have questions,” he said. “Please; ask them.”

“We’ll skip over for now the issue of whether Governor Choard is actually serious about this,” Organa said. She paused briefly, and Disra noted with private amusement that she was watching him closely for any reaction
to the question she had just stated she wasn’t going to ask. “So let’s cut to the core,” she went on. “How can even a sector governor possibly muster the resources necessary to defy the Empire?”

“Without the aid of allies, we obviously can’t,” Disra said. “You and your friends will be those allies, if you’re willing. If you’re not, there are others.”

“Who are these others?”

Disra shook his head. “Like you, they prefer anonymity.”

“I’ll settle for a few raw numbers of their strength.”

Disra pursed his lips, pretending to consider the request. The statistics on the BloodScars and their pirate-raider coalition were right in his pocket, in suitably disguised files on his datapad. But if he simply gave all that to her here, she and her friends might be offworld within the hour. “Yes, I can do that,” he said at last. “But it’ll take me a couple of hours in my office to pull them together.” He looked at Chivkyrie. “I presume you’re staying at my friend’s home?”

“No, we’ve made other arrangements,” Organa said.

“A wise idea,” Disra said. “How do I get in touch with you?”

“We’ll call you tomorrow morning,” Organa said, standing.

Disra frowned up at her. “No other questions?”

“Let’s see first what you have in the way of allies,” she said as the others also rose to their feet. “Then perhaps we’ll have more questions.” She nodded, and the four of them walked off.

Disra swiveled around, scowling at their backs as they rounded the mii trees and disappeared into the crowds. That had been quick. Too quick. He’d had a dozen questions of his own to ask, questions dealing with the Rebel leadership and whether or not Organa might have brought any of them with her.

Instead she’d cut off the discussion practically before it had started. Had she somehow sniffed out his game?

Or maybe she was already way ahead of him. Maybe everything he and Caaldra had assumed was the work of an Imperial agent was actually some kind of insane Rebel operation.

Well, if it was, Organa herself was going to get very cold comfort from it. Pulling out his comlink, he keyed for spaceport control. “This is Chief Administrator Disra,” he told the controller. “I want an immediate lockdown of all ships carrying human crew or passengers.”

“Excuse me, sir?” the controller asked, sounding stunned.

“You heard me,” Disra said coldly as he stood up and headed toward the air taxi station. “As of this moment you’re on fugitive watch. And put the order on the ‘Net to all other spaceports and planetary transport systems.”

“But, sir, we can’t just—”

“You can and you will,” Disra cut him off. “I’ll have the fugitive’s description and biometrics to you within the hour; after that you’ll be able to let everyone else through. But for now, no human is to leave this planet. Understood?”

The controller’s grimace was clearly audible in his voice. “Yes, sir.”

Disra broke the connection and keyed for an air taxi. It would take twenty minutes to get back to his office, and probably another ten to put together a fugitive sheet with Organa’s face and biometric profile. Thirty minutes from now, and they would have her trapped.

And then he would finally be able to make the HoloNet call he’d been waiting on for so long. The call that would set him on his rise to Imperial power.

“If you will forgive my impertinence, that was extremely impolite,” Chivkyrie chided Leia as they traveled the twisty path between the market’s booths and plant stands. “He was a guest at my table.”

“And I had questions I wished to ask,” Vokkoli added, his tone more puzzled than angry.

Leia ignored both of them, her full attention on the people around them, the instincts she’d built up over her years of quiet treason screaming at her to get out
now
.

“Perhaps if I called and apologized—”

“You’re not to call him,” Leia cut him off. “You’re never to call him again.”

[What is it?] Slanni asked, the increased pitch of his beak-clicks indicating sudden nervousness. [What is wrong?]

“I don’t know exactly,” Leia told him. “But there was something terribly wrong about him.”

“You are imagining things,” Chivkyrie insisted. His tone was starting to change, too, though. “He has never given me cause for concern.”

“Because you’ve never had
me
here before,” Leia said; and with that, her vague sense of dread suddenly dropped into clear focus. The Empire had kept her role in the Rebellion reasonably quiet, probably fearing that she would become a rallying point for disaffected citizens. But Disra had clearly recognized her, and the sense she’d gotten from him was not one of respect or awe. He was planning to turn her in.

And if
he
wasn’t the Rebel sympathizer he pretended to be, then Governor Choard probably wasn’t, either.

She’d been right the first time. This whole bid for independence was nothing but a trap.

“We have to get out of here,” she told Chivkyrie. “Off the planet, out of the sector, as quickly as possible.”

“You’re overreacting, Princess,” Chivkyrie said, frowning
in puzzlement. “I admit Administrator Disra’s manner takes a little getting used to—”

“We’re leaving,” Leia cut him off. “If you’re smart, you’ll come with us.”

“Do not be ridiculous,” the Adarian said huffily, apparently forgetting for the moment that Leia was his tier-superior. “This is my home.”

“As you wish,” Leia said, looking around for an air taxi station. “Please call your pilot immediately and have the ship prepped for us.”

Silently Chivkyrie pulled out his comlink and keyed it on. It was answered, and he launched into a chatter of Adarese.

Leia grimaced. Even with her limited knowledge of Adarian culture, she knew that holding a conversation in a language a tier-superior guest didn’t understand was a violation of etiquette. Apparently Chivkyrie’s estimation of her status had dropped at least two levels in the past few minutes.

Which meant he was no longer going to listen to what she had to say. Against her advice, he would continue with this plan, pulling his group out of the Rebel Alliance. And if he left, others would follow, until perhaps their fragile coalition ceased to exist.

Chivkyrie keyed off and returned the comlink to his belt.

[How soon may we leave?] Slanni asked.

“You may not,” Chivkyrie said, his voice grim. “Humans have been forbidden to leave Shelkonwa.”

Vokkoli stopped abruptly. “What do you say?”

“It appears Princess Leia was correct,” Chivkyrie said, bowing his head to her in a gesture of humility and remorse. “Administrator Disra has betrayed us.”

“Maybe not all of us,” Leia said, trying to think. She was undoubtedly Disra’s main target, but it wouldn’t be long before he also closed the port to Mungras and Ishi
Tib. Still, there might yet be a small window of opportunity for them. “You said the ban only applied to humans,” she went on. “If you three can get to the ship fast enough, maybe you can slip out before he tightens the ring.”

“Yes, you must go,” Chivkyrie seconded before the others could answer, pulling out his comlink again. “I will have my pilot—”

“No,” Vokkoli said flatly. “We will not leave a comrade in danger.”

“Even if your presence increases that danger?” Leia countered. “Don’t forget, Disra has seen all three of us. It’ll be easier for a single human to hide than for a human, a Mungra, and an Ishi Tib together.”

[She unfortunately does make sense,] Slanni said reluctantly.

“And you should go, too,” Leia said, turning to Chivkyrie. “But not by your own ship—Disra probably has people watching it by now. Get on the next transport and get out.”

They had reached an air taxi station now, and Leia could see one of the brightly colored vehicles dropping toward them. “The others will go,” Chivkyrie said firmly. “But I will stay. You are my guest, and this is my home.”

“Chivkyrie—”

“You are my guest, and this is my home,” the Adarian repeated in a tone that offered no room for argument. He looked at Vokkoli and Slanni. “You: go at once. Serve the Alliance, and the cause of freedom.” His face hardened. “And live in the knowledge that you and your organizations were indeed right.”

“We will leave, for the sake of our people,” Vokkoli said gravely. “And we will pray that your error does not cost you your life.” He reached out a hand and touched
Chivkyrie’s fingertips. “May Fortune smile her protection upon you.”

Slanni bowed silently. A few seconds later they were in the sky, headed for the spaceport.

“And upon you, as well,” Chivkyrie murmured as he and Leia watched the taxi disappear over the city’s spires. “Come,” he said, taking her arm. “We will return to the hotel to retrieve your effects.”

He gave her a tight, shamefaced smile. “And then an Adarian will show you the true meaning of secrecy.”

The palace was a hive of fresh chaos when Disra arrived. He strode through the milling employees, paying no attention to the questions and demands being hurled at him from all directions, concentrating on the quickest way to his office.

Waiting there, unfortunately, was the one person in Makrin City he couldn’t ignore. “What in blazes is going on?” Governor Choard demanded, the expression behind his bushy beard a combination of apprehension and anger. “They tell me you’ve shut down all the
spaceports
?”

“Just to humans,” Disra soothed, starting to circle around him. “I have good reason.”

The other apparently wasn’t in the mood to be brushed off. Reaching out a massive hand, he closed it around the collar of Disra’s jacket. “Tell me this good reason.”