Refugee: Force Heretic II (23 page)

“They’ve had a bead on you the whole time.” Zel’s eyes darted around him, staring wildly at the walls of the container—almost as if through them he could see security guards converging on the Stack. “They could be here right now!”

“Get a grip,” Jjorg said in a manner that suggested his panic offended her. “We have perimeter alarms, don’t we? They couldn’t get anywhere near the place without us knowing.”

“Why now?” Salkeli asked.

Jjorg turned to him. “What do you mean?”

“They could’ve planted something on Mali like this months ago,” he said. “So why now?”

“Because she’s an escapee now,” Vyram said. “And we’re aiding and abetting her. They’re clear-cut criminal charges, not something as gray as slicing.”

Malinza stood. “They’re only clear-cut if my original charge isn’t a fake,” she said. “Which it is.”

“Either way,” Jaina said, “we’re going to have to get out of here.”

“Running will only make us look guilty,” the Rodian said.

“I agree with the Jedi,” Zel said. “Staying here will get us caught.”

A fierce buzzing from the computer system suddenly filled the room. All eyes turned to Vyram at the computer console for an explanation.

His expression was grim. “That’s the perimeter alarm.”

“I knew it!” Zel shouted, nervously pacing the confined space. “I just knew it!”

“Shut it, Zel!” Malinza snapped. Then, more calmly, she turned to Vyram and asked, “Which one is it?”

“North-Fourteen and South-Seven. They’re coming in from both sides.”

“Air?”

“Not as yet.”

“Good.” Malinza turned to the others. She no longer looked the frightened teenager; now she appeared every bit the leader of a covert group under threat. “I’m open to any suggestions at this time.”

“Why not let the Jedi fight for us?” Zel said, his expression just a little too eager and manic for Jaina’s liking. “She could easily take on—”

“No!” Malinza said sharply. Zel fell instantly silent. “There’ll be no fighting. You know that I will never approve of violence.”

“We might not have a choice, Malinza,” Jjorg said.

“No, there is an alternative,” Jaina said. “You could remove the bug and give it to me. I could take it elsewhere, to throw them off your scent.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?” Jjorg said. “They’re right outside!”

Jaina resisted the urge to snap back. Although Vyram had proved that she was not responsible for having led the enemy to the Stack, she still felt as though everyone was blaming her for the situation they were in.

“They’re not here yet, though,” Vyram said, looking thoughtful.

“Yeah, but they’re not stupid, either,” Jjorg said. “They’ll know when they’re being duped.”

“Not if we present them with many variables at once. We’ve had a distraction in place for some time, just in case a day should come when they’d find us.” He took a deep breath and looked at Malinza. “I’d say that day has arrived, wouldn’t you?”

Malinza nodded, then hastily tore the bug from her waistband and handed it to Jaina.

“They’re getting closer,” the young leader said, glancing at the screens as another siren went off. “I’d hurry, if I were you.”

“I’ll go with you,” Salkeli said. “I know the streets better than you do.”

Jaina hesitated briefly, then relented with a nod. She couldn’t deny that what the Rodian said made sense. “Okay,” she said. Then, to Malinza, she asked, “Will you at least tell me where you’re going?”

“I think it would be best if you didn’t know.” The girl extended a hand; Jaina took it and shook. “We’ll meet again, though, I’m sure.”

Jaina just nodded. There wasn’t time for long farewells.

“After you,” she said to Salkeli, and the Rodian dropped feet first out of the container.

* * *

The work in the library was a painstaking process, and after so many hours poring over books, Saba was beginning to feel fatigue pressing at the stiff muscles beneath her itchy scales. Thankfully, though, there were enough allusions to a wandering planet in the innumerable cultures to keep everyone optimistic. After Danni had found the first reference, Saba had quickly discovered two more, and shortly after that Jacen had found yet another. Since then, as the trail grew warm, appearances came at a regular rate. When what they thought was Zonama Sekot had passed near a relatively civilized world, they were able to pin down its appearance with precise dates; otherwise they were able to guess, based on more or less inaccurate records and physical evidence. Luckily, Saba thought, they weren’t chasing an event that had happened centuries ago. In many cases, witnesses were still alive to relate to the Chiss contact teams their firsthand experience of the “Coming of the New Star,” or the “Dawning of the Death Sun,” or whatever else it happened to be called. From these recollections, along with more recent surveys of every system in the Chiss’s domain, they gradually began to reconstruct the planet’s movements.

Zonama Sekot had first appeared on the Imperial fringes of the Unknown Regions, visiting three systems within a couple of years. Then it had jumped clear across to the outer edge of the galaxy, where habitable systems were fewer and far between. There it had encountered a species that, before its enslavement by the Yuuzhan Vong early in their invasion, would relate to the Chiss visitors the coming of a world that hung in their sky for a month, burning and smoking. This certainly didn’t match the description of the lush and peaceful world given by Vergere, but it did match predictions of the sort of stresses the
crust of a planet might experience by jumping in and out of gravity wells through hyperspace. No one had ever heard of such a feat before, so there was no experimental data on record, but the most basic planetary science suggested that Zonama Sekot would not have been unscathed by its precipitous jumps across the galaxy.

Following this, it had retreated inward, toward the Core of the galaxy. There it encountered several species in quick succession before finally settling down in one particular system for almost a year. The new light in the sky had inspired a competitive surge from the normally content denizens of that system’s habitable world, with the two main countries entering into a kind of “space race” to see who could be the first to land a probe on the mysterious visitor. However, well before the vying probes made orbit around the planet, it vanished once more.

Again, images taken before it disappeared showed a world completely covered by smoke and ash, simmering in its own heat. Saba felt a pang of pity for the fleeing world as she once again contrasted these images with that of Vergere’s own testimony, reported by Jacen, of a world rich with life, in constant harmony with the Force.

Oddly, though, later reports from farther around the galactic rim spoke of a world that was green again—so either Zonama Sekot had managed to heal itself, or it was getting the hang of making hyperspace jumps without causing itself any further grievous damage. It came and went without warning, flitting shyly from star to star in search of …
what?
Saba wondered, but she couldn’t begin to imagine. Perhaps, she thought, somewhere along the way it had lost the only company it had ever known—the Ferroan colonists who had for generations lived on its surface—and was now seeking replacements …

Then again, she was also aware that as one of the few
remaining members of her own species, still mourning the loss of her home planet, she might be externalizing her own problems and transposing them onto Zonama Sekot. She couldn’t presume to know what went on in the mind of such an incomprehensible being that—

A sudden high-pitched squeal startled Saba, causing her to jump and almost drop the book she was returning to the shelf. She turned to see a tall woman in her middle years dressed in a green jumpsuit beneath black robes standing at the end of the aisle, both hands covering her mouth. She was clearly surprised to have stumbled upon the huge Barabel.

Behind her stood a blond human girl who looked to be in her early teens; she was dressed in a black uniform that looked like a miniature version of the CEDF dress code. The girl looked disdainfully at the older woman, as though thoroughly mortified by her exclamation.

“I-I—” the woman stammered, lowering her hands. A nervous smile failed to hide her obvious embarrassment. “I’m sorry; you startled me.”

“There iz no need to apologize,” Saba said. “This one was startled also. We thought we were alone in the library.”

“You are. I mean, you were.” The woman still seemed a little unsure of Saba.

“What my mother means is that we just arrived,” the girl said. “We were looking for my father, Soontir Fel.”

There was something in the way the girl glanced to the ground as she said this that suggested she wasn’t telling the truth. Nevertheless, understanding dawned for Saba at the mention of the Baron’s name. “Then you must be Syal Antillez?”

The woman smiled more easily this time, dissolving some of her awkwardness—although not all. “Yes. And this is my daughter, Wyn.”

Saba executed a short, respectful bow. The wife of Soontir Fel, mother of Jagged Fel, and sister of Wedge Antilles
was an acquaintance she was pleased to make. “This one iz Saba Sebatyne.”

“What’re you looking for?” Wyn asked, craning to look at the spine of the book Saba had just replaced.

Saba hesitated, unsure how much she should reveal. “This one waz tracing the history of a speciez called the Hemes Arbora.”

The girl shrugged. “I’ve never heard of them.”

Saba stretched up to pull the book back down and flipped it open to one of the strange, two-dimensional maps the archive preferred. She tapped it with a claw.

“They originally came from here, Carrivar, and migrated to Osseriton here, via Umaren’k. This one detected their influence on the Umaren’k’sa culture.”

“What does that mean?”

“Wyn,” her mother cautioned.

Syal Antilles was waiting some distance away—a “safe” distance, Saba observed. Despite her years living with Baron Fel among the Chiss, she was probably still wary of nonhuman aliens—as so many Imperials seemed to be. To Saba, she said: “I must apologize for my daughter’s prying. I’m sure you have enough to do without her bothering you with questions.”

“This one iz not bothered by your daughter,” Saba assured. Then, blinking at the girl, she turned to answer her previous question. “Our search iz for a particular planet. Apart from itz one habitable world, Osseriton iz an empty system. The Hemes Arbora would have noticed a new world.”

Wyn laughed lightly. “You have a strange way of saying things.”

“Wyn!”

The girl, easily half a meter shorter than Saba, looked up at the Barabel and rolled her eyes, all the while keeping her back to her mother.

Saba smiled, saying to Syal Antilles: “It iz all right. This one iz not offended by her words.”

Wyn returned the smile at this, then turned her attention to the maps, her eyes almost shining in wonder. “You must lead such an amazing life. Traveling to all those place, having all kinds of adventures!”

Saba nodded, supposing that from a child’s point of view that must seem true. Jedi Knights carried with them an aura of mystique wherever they went. However, it was unlikely that Saba’s current work in the library was even remotely connected to the adventures that Wyn was obviously imagining …

“So it’s true,” Syal muttered as she took a step forward. There was a look of suspicion on her face. “You’re really expecting us to believe that you’re looking for Zonama Sekot.”

Saba didn’t bother denying it. “This iz our quarry, yes.”

“But Zonama Sekot is nothing more than a legend, a
myth.”
Syal shook her head, eyes narrowing as her suspicion came to the fore. “What is it you’re really after?”

“This one does not know what you mean by—”

“I mean that I find it hard to believe that you came all this way to chase shadows!”

Saba frowned, her eyebrow ridges contracting thickly on her brow. She didn’t understand why the woman’s temperament had suddenly changed, or indeed what she was trying to get at. “Why else would Master Skywalker bring uz here?”

“The CEDF Library, of course. It gives you access to everything we have on all the people and places known to the Chiss!”

“But why should we want to know thiz?”

“Because you’re looking for allies,” she said. “We’ve resisted the Yuuzhan Vong better than you have. You need us far more than we need you.”

“You think we’re looking for a way to convince you to join the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances?”

“Or maybe coerce us,” Syal returned bluntly.

“Mom,” Wyn said. There was a hint of embarrassment and reproach in her tone. Then she faced Saba with a look of apology. “She doesn’t mean what she says. She’s just worried you’re going to try to take Dad away from her, like you took Jag.”

The woman’s eyes flashed anger at her daughter, and her voice carried denial. “Wyn!”

“Oh, come on, Mom,” the girl said, wheeling around to face her mother. “You’ve been worried about Dad ever since Jag left!”

“That’s not true,” Syal said firmly, but there was something in her eyes that suggested that what her daughter said
was
true. After a moment, she sighed and shook her head slowly. “It hasn’t been since Jag left, Wyn; it’s been since Coruscant fell.”

Saba was beginning to feel out of her depth. She wished that Master Skywalker was here to face these accusations instead of her; he was far more adept at handling such matters.

“Before Coruscant, I was actually trying to talk Soontir into joining the fight against the Yuuzhan Vong.” All acrimony had gone from her tone, for which Saba was grateful. She seemed to speak now as a means of explaining her prior hostility toward Saba’s presence. “I wanted him to join the New Republic like Jag did, either with the rest of the Chiss or without them. But he didn’t want to fight; he said that the New Republic could handle the Yuuzhan Vong, just as we were handling it on our side of the galaxy. Then you lost the capital and—” She hesitated briefly, as if collecting her thoughts. “I knew two things, then: that he would change his mind; and that you were going to lose.” Her eyes flitted between
Wyn and Saba as she said, “I won’t let you take him down with you. I won’t.”