Inferno (12 page)

Deciding to forgo the sympathetic act he had planned, Caedus put on a slightly distracted expression, then said, “This will have to be quick, Ben. We’re about to counterattack.”

“It will be.” There was a sharpness in Ben’s voice, and his brow was knitted in anger. “I only have one question.”

“Very well.” Caedus changed to a slightly bewildered tone; he knew what was coming, and he had a plan to handle it. “Go ahead.”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “Did you kill Mom?”

Caedus shot his brow up as though shocked, and it was not entirely an act: he
was
surprised at how directly Ben had put the question.

“Did I
what
?” Caedus sank back in his chair and shook his head in feigned bewilderment. “You think
I
killed Mara? Why?”

“You were
there,
” Ben stated flatly. “In the Consortium.”

“A
lot
of people were there.” Caedus’s reply was cautious; he had expected Ben to do this in person, where the boy would have a better chance of reading his reactions—and be able to seek his vengeance immediately. “Are you going to accuse us
all
in the hope that someone confesses?”

“I don’t have to,” Ben replied. “You’re
already
confessing.”

Caedus frowned. The “assured accusation” was a common interrogation tactic, so he doubted his cousin knew anything for certain. But Caedus
did
wonder more than ever why Ben was doing this over the HoloNet. Maybe the boy just wanted to avoid getting himself killed by keeping a few hundred light-years between his temper and its object. Or maybe Ben wanted to make it more difficult to detect any lies
he
told. Caedus began to ponder who else might be listening to this conversation. Was Saba Sebatyne sitting just outside holo range, telling Ben what to say?

When Caedus failed to ask the expected question—
how
was he confessing—Ben supplied the answer anyway. “You’re
acting
like you did it.”

Caedus decided he had to take the bait. If he didn’t, Ben—and whoever might be sitting there beside him—would decide he already knew what Ben was talking about. “Okay, Ben.
How
am I acting like I did it?”

“By trying to keep Dad and the Masters off-balance,” Ben explained. “You don’t want them to find out it was you.”

“If you’re talking about trying to arrest my parents at the Jedi Temple, that was strictly a protective measure,” Caedus said. “Captain Shevu had reports of Bothans smuggling a proton bomb onto the planet, and my mother and father
are
known terrorists. With most of our Jedi Masters at the funeral—”

“I suppose there’s another bomb on Ossus?” Ben asked, cutting him off.

“Not that I know of.” Caedus wasn’t terribly surprised that Major Serpa had been unable to keep the operation secret. Jedi had many ways to communicate across the stars—some that could never be jammed. “And I intend to keep it that way. The GAG battalion I placed on Ossus is strictly a security measure.”

“Come
on,
Jacen. You took the Academy
hostage.
You’re just trying to keep the Order from coming after you!”

“I’m trying to protect the students,” Caedus insisted calmly. “Your father isn’t himself right now, and the Council has been handling your mother’s death very foolishly. If I can land an entire
battalion
on Ossus, what do you think the Bothans could do?”

“
Bothans
wouldn’t have our clearance codes,” Ben countered. “And nobody would make the mistake of thinking they’re on our side.”

Seeing that Ben was not being persuaded, Caedus decided to change tactics. He sighed wearily, then said, “I should have known better than to try fooling you, Ben. The truth is that our office—and by that I mean the joint Chiefs of State—has been hurt badly by the lack of support from the Jedi Council.”

Ben wrinkled his brow. “So you killed Mom?”

“No, Ben—that was someone else,” Caedus said. He had no way to determine whether Saba or any of the other Masters were listening in, but he actually hoped they
were.
His explanation was entirely reasonable, and it just might be enough to convince suspicious minds that he had nothing to do with Mara’s death. “But I
have
been trying to take advantage of the situation. The Alliance needs a united front right now, and with your father so consumed by his grief…well, I’ve been trying to consolidate power in the Chiefs’ office.”

Ben looked more bewildered than ever. “You’re trying to take over the Jedi Order?”

Caedus shook his head. “
Neutralize
it,” he said. “Perhaps Saba and the other Masters will think twice about what they say in public if they remember that the safety of the Order’s younglings is in my hands.”

To his credit, Ben wasn’t foolish enough to say that Jacen would never harm the academy students. “What about all that stuff you said at the funeral about trying to get along better with the Jedi?”

“That would be nice, but I haven’t been able to talk with your father since the funeral,” Caedus said. “Frankly, I think he’s been avoiding me. What else am I to do?”

“Well, taking over the academy doesn’t seem like a very good idea,” Ben said. “You’re just going to make people mad.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Caedus said. “But it’s for the good of the Alliance.”

“The good of the
Alliance
?” The disbelief in Ben’s voice was reflected in his eyes. “Right—just like killing Mom.”

Caedus exhaled in frustration. “Your interrogation technique is excellent, Ben.” The conversation was hardly going as he had planned—and perhaps it was time to change that. “But no matter how long you continue to assert the suspicion, I won’t confess to what Ca—” He stopped abruptly. “To what someone
else
did.”

The “slip” worked exactly as planned. Ben’s eyes widened in excitement, then quickly narrowed.

“To what
who
did?” he demanded.

Caedus looked Ben straight in the eye, holding the gaze just long enough to make sure it looked like an act. “Ben, if I knew who killed Mara,” he said, “don’t you think they’d be dead by now?”

“That depends on how useful they were,” Ben replied.

Caedus winced, but only on the outside. Inside, he was smiling. Ben had gone from accusing him of Mara’s murder to demanding that he reveal the name of the guilty party. As he had foreseen, Ben was more interested in vengeance than justice—all Caedus need do was point him toward a plausible target.

“Ben, I don’t
know
anything.”

“But you have suspicions,” Ben surmised.

Caedus let a moment of silence hang between their images, then finally nodded. “What I have isn’t
proof,
” he said. “It just tells us where to look.”

Ben sneered. “Since when do you need
proof
? Suspicion has always been good enough for GAG.”

“The circumstances aren’t ordinary. This time, we’re going to need proof—and plenty of it. You’ll see.” Caedus looked to his armrest and made a show of fumbling with the controls, then assumed a tone that was both hurt and slightly bitter. “I’m only playing this for you to prove that
I’m
not the one who killed your mother. You can’t act on it, Ben. We have to do this right—for the sake of the Alliance.”

Ben’s expression changed to equal parts impatience and curiosity. “Sure. I just want to know who killed Mom.”

“All right.” Caedus poised a finger over the transfer pad, then looked back to Ben. “I have your word as a Jedi?”

“Yeah,” Ben said, “as a Jedi.”

Caedus nodded. “Good.”

He dropped his finger. The familiar voice of Cal Omas began to crackle from his transceiver speakers—and, he assumed by Ben’s shocked expression, from those at the other end of the channel.

“I
do
have allies on the Jedi Council,” Omas was saying, “and Luke is one of them. But he’s not going to intervene. He doesn’t believe it’s proper for Jedi to insert themselves into domestic politics.”

There was just enough static to make it sound like the statement had been captured during an eavesdropping operation—and to hide the electronic glitches that invariably arose when someone’s words were digitally rearranged.

“No, I’m
saying
we need Skywalker out of the way,” Omas’s voice continued. “Then my friends will be free to act on their own authority and reinstate me.”

Omas’s voice paused again.

“This was captured via parabolic dish,” Caedus said, explaining the reason they had only one side of the conversation. “The comlink he was using belonged to the lieutenant in charge of guarding him. We didn’t have it tapped at the time.”

Ben nodded his understanding, and Omas’s voice continued, “Are you crazy? We can’t do that to Luke Skywalker—even if we knew someone who
could.
Just redirect his attention.”

Omas paused again, and Caedus could see that the anger and hatred Ben had been holding barely under control was quickly rising to the surface.

“Look,” Omas said, “I really don’t want to know
how
you plan to do it—just make it happen.”

The recording had barely clicked to an end before Ben’s voice was blaring from the transceiver. “Who was he talking to? Fett?”

“We don’t know yet.” Caedus had to bite back a smile at the idea of siccing Ben on Fett—except that he still hoped to make an apprentice of Ben, and he was fairly certain Fett would not come out at the worse end of that fight. “It’s one more reason to be patient. Sooner or later, Omas is going to have to pay up—and when he does, the credits will lead us straight to your mother’s murderer.”

“I know who my mother’s murderer is,” Ben retorted. “And before he dies, he’s going to tell me who his weapon was.”

Caedus forced a look of alarm. “Ben, you gave me your word. Acting on that information would be very bad for the Alliance—we have to prove what Omas did publicly. We can’t have people thinking we just assassinated him.”

“Don’t worry,” Ben said. “I’ll
get
proof.”

“Ben, you have to stand down on this.” Caedus made his voice stern. “That’s an order.”

“With all due respect, sir, you can shove that order down the nearest black hole.” Ben’s arm appeared in the holo, as though he were reaching for the transceiver controls. “
You’re
the one who turned me into a killer.”

The hologram dissolved into static, leaving Caedus to the starlit darkness of his observation bubble. He touched the controls on his armrest, spinning himself back toward the impending counterattack, then smiled and opened a channel to the comm officer.

“Lieutenant Krova?”

“Yes, Colonel?”

“Perhaps you should send a top urgent message to the unit guarding former Chief of State Omas.” Caedus paused, injecting the proper note of concern into his voice. “Lieutenant Skywalker seems to think there’s going to be an assassination attempt.”

seven

This high in the wroshyrs, the limbs were barely wide enough to walk on, while low-hanging clouds slicked every surface with cool dew. Wookiees had no trouble clinging to the narrow pathways and tiny spectator platforms that ringed Council Rock, but for beings without claws—beings such as Han and Leia—the going was slow, dangerous, and nerve racking.

Han stopped at a fork in the limb. One branch descended toward a fog-shrouded porch, and the other snaked toward a spectator platform already sagging beneath the weight of too many Wookiees. Glimpses of sheer black cliff—Council Rock—were starting to show through the dancing wall of leaves ahead.

Their guide, a lanky young Wookiee with bronze fur and shades of Chewbacca in his expression, stopped three paces down the descending branch, then looked over his shoulder and rumbled a question.

“Doing…fine,” Han panted. “Don’t worry about us.”

“Though I
do
see why you insisted on leaving Threepio with the
Falcon.
” Leia came up beside Han and draped a hand over his shoulder, hanging on while she pretended to rest—but, Han suspected, actually checking to see how steady he was. “This is quite a hike, Waroo.”

“Twelve hours is a hike,” Han complained. “Four days is a kriffing expedition. I don’t see why we couldn’t have taken a cloud car—at least as far as Thikkiiana City.”

Waroo—more properly Lumpawaroo, Chewbacca’s son—groaned a long explanation.

“Yeah, so we could’ve gotten back in the
Falcon
and flown to Thikkiiana City, and then
that’s
where we would’ve been starting.”

Waroo let out a very Chewie-like grunt of disgust and, shaking his head, started down the branch again.

“You know it doesn’t work that way,” Leia said. “The walk is part of the tradition.”

“No wonder they’re so slow to decide anything,” Han complained. “It takes half a year just to collect everyone.”

“Including
us,
” Leia pointed out. She nudged Han after their guide. “Hurry up. Waroo said they were close to making a decision.”

“Right. Any month now.”

Han extended his arms for balance and started down the slippery branch, careful to place each foot dead in the center and trying to stay loose in the knees so Waroo did not accidentally bounce him off. With Leia right behind him and ready to reach out with the Force at a millisecond’s notice, he had no fear of actually falling, but there was more than one way to die up here. At his age, embarrassment could be a real killer.

As they drew closer to the crowded porch, Han began to hear Wookiee voices booming from the entrance to the council circle. They were speaking in Xaczik—the difficult Wartaki Island dialect they had used to fool their Imperial slave masters three wars ago—so Han could not quite catch what the delegates were saying. But it
did
sound like the council was close to agreement. The current speaker was roaring speech rather than groaning it, and the exclamations threatening to drown him out were clearly being made in enthusiasm rather than dispute.