Inferno (18 page)

“Switch to HNE!” she cried. “Chief Omas has been murdered—and they’re saying Ben was there!”

eleven

Caedus knew now that the path he had chosen—the path of the Sith—was the right one. Despite the bewildering snarl of glitter and light flashing beyond his observation bubble, he could sense through the Force that the battle was all but won. As soon as Admiral Bwua’tu brought the Hapan Home Fleet out of hiding, the traitors’ doom would be sealed.

The Corellians were carrying the brunt of the fighting, of course, throwing their battle cruisers and assault frigates against the Star Destroyers of the Fourth Fleet. But Jacen could sense that the Bothans were having trouble, too: the ambushes and minefields they kept encountering were making it impossible for their light cruisers and corvettes to flank the Alliance defenders. And the Commenorians and Hutts weren’t even factors. The few vessels they had been able to contribute after the Battle of Balmorra were being relegated to rear defense, along with the flotillas from the Confederation’s minor partners.

So Caedus did not understand what Bwua’tu was waiting for, why he had not yet asked for the Hapan Home Fleet. Surely, the admiral could see that everything was going according to plan; all he need do was make this one request and the Alliance would be saved. Caedus only hoped that it had not been a mistake to trust the Bothan. He had been the one who insisted—on Gavin Darklighter’s recommendation—that Bwua’tu be given command of the battle, and he had sensed no deception when the vice admiral assured him that his vow of
krevi
demanded that he remain loyal to the Alliance.

But with Bothans, one could never be sure. For all Caedus knew, the
krevi
might have been a cultural fiction that Bothans maintained to take advantage of situations like this.

Caedus turned to the little tactical display near the entrance to his observation bubble, then fixed his gaze on the transponder code of the
Welmo Darb.
Although the Star Destroyer was hardly the largest in the First Fleet, Bwua’tu had selected it as his new flagship so that he would have the option of putting his heaviest firepower in the forefront without risking his command structure. Caedus didn’t sense anything amiss aboard the
Darb,
only a calm Bothan presence pondering options while the vessel’s harried crew struggled to defend their ship.

Caedus touched a pad on the arm of his meditation chair, then asked, “Is the
Darb
reporting a sensor malfunction? Or data-streaming problems?”

A moment later, the voice of Lieutenant Krova—his personal communications officer—came over the speaker. “They’re reporting all systems optimal, Colonel. I could ask them to confirm.”

“No,” Caedus said quickly. “I wouldn’t want Bwua’tu to think I’m impatient.”

“The vice admiral is a perceptive being, Colonel Solo,” Krova replied. “I’m sure he knows.”

Caedus was in too good a mood to be irritated by her sarcasm—at least until his comlink chimed with a special two-tone alert assigned to one of the few people for whom he always needed to make time. He flipped open the device and opened the channel.

“Shouldn’t you be in the ready room?”

“I’m in the refresher,” Tahiri replied. “And we’re not launching anytime soon. Master Skywalker is on his way up to see you.”

“What for?”

Tahiri paused, then asked, “When can we go back again?”

“That depends on how long you take to answer my question,” Caedus replied. Since their return to the voxyn cloning lab on
Baanu Rass,
they had already flow-walked back to two more time-locations to visit Anakin, and each time Caedus had managed to end the trip leaving Tahiri desperate for more. “I’m very busy right now, as I’m sure you realize.”

“This isn’t healthy for me,” Tahiri said, ignoring his warning. “You can’t keep pulling us back before I’m ready.”

“Then pick our destination more carefully,” Caedus said. “Something that isn’t so emotionally charged for you.”

“Fine,” Tahiri said. “HNE just reported Omas’s assassination, and Master Skywalker’s as mad as a yanskac on ice. You’d better be ready.”

Caedus’s insides went cold with dread. Apparently, the HoloNet had decided to ignore the security hold he had placed on the story, and Ben’s involvement alone would be enough to bring Luke to the bridge ready to fight a rancor. But he couldn’t help fearing there was more to the visit—that his uncle had finally, somehow, discovered the identity of Mara’s killer.

Caedus closed the comlink without signing off, then refocused his Force-awareness on the
Anakin Solo
’s bridge. Luke’s presence was already close, ascending a nearby turbolift, and the Force was rolling and crashing with his anger.

Caedus touched the comm pad again. “Inform Bridge Security that Master Skywalker is on his way to my day cabin.”

“Master Skywalker?” Krova was silent for a moment while she checked the security monitors, then said, “Of course. What are their instructions?”

Caedus thought for a moment, considering the possibility of trying to delay Luke while he prepared himself, then realized that would only look suspicious.

“Tell them to stay out of his way.” Caedus did not bother asking for a summary of recent events in the Jedi area of the
Anakin Solo.
Even had Luke not bothered to disable the monitoring equipment, the only thing the security officers would have seen was what the Jedi wanted them to. “And see that we’re not disturbed. I think we’re going to need some privacy.”

By the time Caedus had instructed SD-XX to secure the cabin against eavesdropping—physical or otherwise—and hidden the droid safely inside its security closet, Luke was marching into the cabin. In his high boots and black StealthX flight suit, he resembled a GAG trooper—at least until he hammered a slap-pad to close the door and started across the floor.

Caedus was glad to see Luke’s lightsaber still hanging from its belt clip, but he took the precaution of slipping toward his desk, where he would have access to a dozen weapons and traps he had prepared in anticipation of just such a confrontation.

Luke jabbed a finger in Caedus’s direction. “Now I understand why you’ve been avoiding me.” His tone was even and soft, but there was no mistaking the wrath in his Force aura. “And this time, you’ve finally crossed the line.”

“What are you talking about?” Caedus asked, pretending ignorance. If the news of Omas’s death was just breaking on the HoloNet, an
innocent
Jacen wouldn’t logically have heard about it in the middle of his battle meditation. “I’m sorry I haven’t been available to console you, Uncle Luke, but I’ve been kind of busy trying to save the Alliance.”

Luke narrowed his eyes and stopped in the center of the cabin. “I’d sooner cry on a Hutt’s shoulder than yours. I think you know that.”

“I suppose family
should
be honest with each other.” The sadness in Caedus’s voice was genuine. He had always regretted losing his uncle’s respect and love—just another of the many sacrifices he was making to bring peace to the galaxy. “But Admiral Bwua’tu will be calling for the Hapan fleet soon. We can work this out—whatever it is—
after
the battle.”

Luke shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Caedus exhaled in exasperation. “Is this about the academy?” He sneaked a glance toward his observation bubble, where a halo of battle light could be seen flashing around his chair, broken only by the thick triangular pedestal on which it rested. “I told you, I’m not going to leave one of the Alliance’s most valuable assets unprotected—”

“Don’t play stupid,” Luke snapped. “This isn’t about the academy. It’s about Ben.”

“Ben?” Caedus stopped at the corner of his desk, feigning shock. “Did something happen to him?”

“You tell me,” Luke said. “You’re the one who sent him.”

“Sent him
where
? I’ve hardly spoken to Ben since the funeral.”

In the next instant, Caedus found himself flying across the cabin toward his observation bubble. Luke had not gestured, had not flinched, had not even shifted his gaze; he had simply grabbed Caedus in the Force and hurled him five meters into his chair.

“Don’t lie.” Luke started across the cabin. “I’m getting tired of it.”

Caedus sprang out of the chair…or
attempted
to. Instead, he found himself struggling against an invisible weight. He felt as if he were accelerating to lightspeed with a faulty inertial compensator.

“Luke, you’ve gone mad.” Caedus reached for the controls on the arm of his chair and discovered he couldn’t even do that much. “You can’t
do
this. I know you’re having trouble dealing with Mara’s death, but—”

“This has nothing to do with Mara,” Luke said. “And you’re lucky it doesn’t. If she were here—if she had
known
what you were using Ben for—there’d be pieces of you scattered along the entire length of the Hydian Way.”

The irony of the statement was far from lost on Caedus, but he was too astonished—and too frightened—to take any pleasure in it. While it was true that Luke had taken him by surprise, it was equally true that he had done so with no visible effort—and that he was
continuing
to hold him with no apparent exertion.

Keenly aware that all that stood between him and a quick death was Luke Skywalker’s much-strained sense of decency, Caedus let a little of his very real fear seep into the Force, just enough to seem properly alarmed.

“Does this have something to do with Cal Omas?” he asked. “Tell me Ben didn’t do anything foolish!”

Luke’s eyes grew narrow and cold. “Tell
me
what makes you think he might have.”

“Of course,” Caedus said. “Ben learned of a conversation that made it look as though Omas had something to do with Mara’s death.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Luke said. “Chief Omas would never have done something like that.”

“Never
have
?” Caedus echoed. “You mean Ben…you mean Omas is dead?”

Luke looked at him without answering.

Caedus would have shaken his head, save that it was still being held motionless with the Force. Had it been Mara’s death instead of Omas’s that Luke had just heard about, Caedus knew he would already be dead. Another reminder that
anyone
could be surprised.

“I tried to tell Ben the same thing, but he’s so full of anger.” He locked gazes with Luke. “I’m afraid he’s going to become its servant, if one of us doesn’t reach him soon.”

Luke nodded, then sat on the corner of Caedus’s desk. “
How
did Ben find out about this conversation?”

Caedus forced himself not to look away. “I wish I knew.”

“
You
told him.” When Luke’s expression did not change, Caedus realized that his uncle had been expecting the lie, that he had already worked matters out for himself. “It’s just so convenient for you, isn’t it? You let something slip in an innocent conversation and point Ben like a missile.”

“That’s not what happened.” The denial was strictly for form; Caedus knew Luke wouldn’t believe it. “But even if it were,
now
is hardly the time to discuss it. We’re a Squib’s hair from victory. After we crush the Confederation, I’ll be—”

Krova’s voice came over the comm speaker. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Colonel Solo, but Admiral Bwua’tu is ready for the Hapans.”

Caedus felt a knot unwind inside.
Finally.

“Tell Admiral Bwua’tu the Hapans will be coming shortly.” Caedus had retained personal control of the Hapan Home Fleet, determined to prevent any risk to Tenel Ka or Allana by not using it until victory was certain. He waited until Krova had acknowledged the order and closed the channel, then turned to his uncle. “I’ve told you all I know about Omas’s death, and I need to transmit that order myself. The Queen Mother insisted I take personal responsibility for committing her fleet.”

Luke raised his brow. “You think you’re dismissing me?”

“I
know
I am.” Caedus put an angry edge in his voice; he might be trapped in a humiliating position right now, but he was still the leader of the Galactic Alliance—and Luke was still its servant. “If you like, we’ll open an inquiry into Omas’s death
after
we’ve saved the Alliance.”

Luke glared at Caedus for a long moment, then finally slipped off the desk. “Is that a promise?”

“It is.”

“Then I’ll take it for what it’s worth,” Luke said. Leaving Caedus Force-pinned in his chair, he started toward the door. “I’ll show myself out.”

Caedus knew he would be freed as soon as Luke turned his concentration to something other than Force-pinning him—but that might take minutes, and Caedus needed to send in the Home Fleet
now.
Besides, he was the Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance, and he could not allow anyone, even Luke Skywalker, to humiliate him and simply leave. He had to assert
some
sort of authority.

“Luke,” Caedus called. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Luke stopped at the door and looked back, the rage in his face now softening to what looked like remorse. “You’re right. I should warn you that you’ll have to crush the Confederation without StealthXs. The Jedi can support you no longer.”

“What?” Caedus was so shocked that he tried to rise—and found himself as unable to move as before. “You can’t desert
now.
We can end this war!”

“We could destroy the Confederation fleets and kill a lot of rebels,” Luke admitted. “But I don’t think you
can
end this war, Jacen. I don’t think you even know what it’s about.”

“That’s absurd.” Caedus did not understand how a man who had been fighting wars for forty years could be so foolish. “After their fleets are destroyed, Corellia and Bothawui will have to accept our terms, and once
they’ve
surrendered, the rest of the Confederation will have no choice but to come racing to rejoin the Alliance.”

Luke shook his head and reached for the touch pad beside the door. “There’s always a choice, Jacen.”