Refugee: Force Heretic II (37 page)

Jaina turned away from the door and squatted down next to the squirming Salkeli, still futilely trying to break free.

“I thought Rodians always had an escape plan,” she said. The Rodian spat at her and glared. She didn’t let it bother her. “How do I disarm the bomb, Salkeli?”

“How should I know?” he growled. “And what makes you think I’d tell you even if I did? I’ve already told you too much.”

Jaina sighed. “I’ll try again,” she said, this time with some Force persuasion behind it. “How do I disarm the bomb?”

His eyes glazed over slightly as he said, “It can’t be deactivated now.”

That threw her for a moment. “There
has
to be a way!” She pushed even harder with the Force. She didn’t believe for a moment that the Rodian wouldn’t have had
at least
some
knowledge of Harris’s bomb. “Now tell me what it is, Salkeli. How is the bomb disarmed?”

“The remote detonator,” he answered without resistance. Then, glancing over to the ruined box, he smiled nastily. “But like I said, there’s no way to disarm it now.”

Jaina cursed under her breath. It was unlikely the Rodian had the will to resist the Force persuasion, so he was probably telling the truth—or the truth as he saw it, anyway. And even if the Deputy Prime Minister did know of another way to deactivate the bomb, it was unlikely they’d be able to rouse him in time to get that information.

“I’m almost there,” Tahiri said over the comlink, her voice crackling through dozens of meters of durasteel and ferrocrete. “Do you have the information?”

Jaina shook her head, beginning to feel nauseous. “Tahiri, I don’t think it can be disarmed.”

“What?”

“Harris rigged it so that it can’t be switched off without the remote detonator—and that’s been destroyed!”

“There has to be a way, Jaina.”

“There isn’t. I’ve seen devices like these before. We’re lucky it didn’t automatically go off early.”

“Then what are going to do?”

“We try to warn Mom and Dad, and get them to alert Cundertol. If we’re quick enough, they might be able to clear the stand and get everyone away before—”

“How much time do we have?”

“I still don’t know, Tahiri. But not much, so get out of there as quickly as possible, okay?”

She tried to raise her mother on the comlink, but its signal was too weak. Instead, she reached out through the Force. Leia Organa Solo was one mind among thousands, but her mental signature was instantly recognizable. Jaina felt secondhand the hypnotic power of the consecration ceremony gathering force throughout the stadium, and fought to punch through it.

Mom! You have to get out of there. There’s a bomb!

It was difficult to convey more than sense impressions through the Force, but she tried her best, and did receive a faint hint of a response for her efforts. She couldn’t tell, though, if her mother understood.

“I’ve found it,” Tahiri said. “I have the bomb right here in front of me.”

Jaina’s anxiety doubled. “What are you still doing in there, Tahiri? I told you to get out!”

“I’m going to try to disarm it.”

“Tahiri, do as I tell you! Just get out of there and try to warn the others!”

“Jaina, we don’t know how much time we have. What if they can’t clear everyone out in time?”

Jaina bit back an angry response. “You don’t know what you’re doing, though!”

“Then I’ll just have to improvise, won’t I?” came the reply.

Jaina reached out with all her strength and tried to Force-meld with Tahiri. The link was faint, but she did receive a brief clear view through Tahiri’s eyes. The bomb in front of her was not equipped for manual disarming, but it did have a timer. In bold blue digits, Jaina could see they had seventy seconds left.

Sixty-nine …

Then something cold and dark pushed her away and the link ebbed.

Mom! Can you hear me?
Jaina called, fighting a mounting desperation.
Get everyone out of there—fast!

The locker door hissed open and the Ryn called Goure rushed in, his tail straight out behind him. “What’s going on?”

Jaina checked her chronometer. They had only thirty seconds left.

“Get that door shut!” she told him sharply. “That bomb’s about to go off!”

The meld with Tahiri returned, faintly.

“I’m making progress,” the girl said over the comlink. “I’ve got the cover off and I think I can—”

Sparks flashed and Jaina received the sharp tang of burning wires through the Force. At the same time she felt the equally sharp stab of hopelessness as Tahiri realized she didn’t have a clue what to do next.

“Tahiri, you’ve got to get out of there!”

“No, there has to be a way!”

“There isn’t! Now, move!”

“I can do it, Jaina. I have to!”

“Why? So you can die like Anakin?” The backlash of pain surprised Jaina and made her instantly regret her words. “Tahiri, I’m—”

“You don’t trust me, do you, Jaina?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Tahiri. Please, just—”

“I
can
do it! I know I can.”

“Can we argue about this later, Tahiri?”

But again something dark and powerful broke the meld between them, its presence casting a black shape in Jaina’s mind.

“Mon-mawl rrish hu camasami!”

The words cut into Jaina like a jagged blade. “Tahiri!”

“No!” Tahiri cried, her desperation shattering the fragile darkness. “Leave me alone!”

Her will was not as strong as the darkness, though, and the broken pieces of the shadow reassembled, twice as powerful as it had been before.

“Do-ro’ik vong pratte!”

The voice over the comlink didn’t sound like Tahiri’s, but Jaina recognized the words. She’d heard it on the lips of her enemies many times in the past. It was a Yuuzhan Vong battle cry.

“Riina?” Jaina asked.

The voice changed to Basic with uncanny ease. “Anakin
killed me—and now you want me dead, too! I won’t let that happen!
Krel nag sh’n rrush fek!”

“Wait, Riina!”

It was too late: time had run out. The bomb went off with a muffled concussion that Jaina felt rather than heard. The floor bucked beneath her, throwing everyone to the ground. The lights went out; someone screamed.

Jaina collected herself when the shaking died down. She frantically reached out into the darkness for Tahiri’s mind. No matter how much she tried, though, she couldn’t find it anywhere.

Tahiri was gone.

Wyn’s fear was strong in Jacen’s mind as he tracked her and her Chiss escort along the ice tunnels far below Csilla’s frozen surface. He sensed that she was frightened, but had nothing concrete on which to pin her concerns. Although she clearly didn’t like Chief Navigator Aabe, as yet he’d done nothing overt to threaten her.

Let’s just hope it stays that way
, he thought.

“I don’t understand,” Irolia hissed from behind him. “Why would Aabe kidnap Assistant Syndic Fel’s daughter?”

“I have no idea, Commander. All I do know is that he has taken her, and that we have to stop him before any harm comes to her.”

“But
how
can you know this?” she asked. “This Force of yours is something we don’t have. How do I know you’re telling me the truth? For all I—”

He motioned her to silence. They had reached an intersection, and his breath puffed into thick, frosty clouds as he peered around the corner. He didn’t have time to justify his actions to Irolia, or try to convince her of the existence of the Force. Wyn was close; he could feel her.

The way ahead held a faint glimmer of light: the bubble of warmth and heat containing Aabe, the two guards,
and Soontir Fel’s youngest daughter was moving rapidly away from them.

“They’re heading for the iceway terminus,” Irolia said, looking past him.

“Which is?”

“An underground transport station. There are excavated tunnels through the bedrock, far below the ice. Carriages travel through them.”

Jacen quickly considered their options. “Then we’ll just have to stop them before they reach it.”

“Agreed—because if they manage to get onto a carriage, then they could be on the other side of the planet within an hour.”

He turned to look at her. The Chiss commander was staring ahead with a determined expression, her blue skin and red eyes contrasting powerfully in the icy gloom. All suggestion of the skepticism she’d voiced just moments earlier appeared to have left her. Even if she wasn’t convinced about his motives, at least she was determined to help him get Wyn back in one piece.

He felt vaguely sorry for her. She’d been put in charge of baby-sitting the visitors from the Galactic Alliance through Chiss space and on Csilla. It wasn’t her fault that she’d been betrayed by a senior officer, whose orders she hadn’t even thought to question. He could understand her wanting to fix the situation before word of her mistake spread.

The light flickered and died at the end of the tunnel. At some point, he knew, he was going to have to try to get closer. He could think of no actual way to hide along the dark and icy corridor so that Aabe and the other guards wouldn’t see them, but he couldn’t afford to hold back, either. The longer he left it, the farther away Wyn became.

“Come on, Commander. We’re going to have to run to catch them.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to? Running in these temperatures can be more draining than people realize.”

“You just worry about keeping up.”

He let the Force flow through him, guiding his footfalls and strengthening the muscles in his legs. His fatigue washed away, along with his concerns for Wyn and the others. He concentrated solely on running: a single, pure action that allowed him to focus his thoughts. What he would do when he caught up with Aabe, he didn’t rightly know. Nor did it matter. Nothing did. He existed simply to cross this short stretch of ice that separated Wyn from himself, and while he remained focused on that solitary task, he was able to do it with an athletic ease.

Irolia matched his pace beside him, but with considerably more effort. By the time they reached the junction where the lit section had disappeared, her breathing was coming in long, deep gulps. She leaned against the nearest wall as Jacen peered around another corner. They seemed to be a lot closer now—so close, in fact, that Aabe was clearly distinguishable within the bubble of light ahead by virtue of the gleam off his scalp.

“Are you okay to continue?” he whispered to Irolia.

She nodded. “I am in perfect physical condition,” she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. “I could run the same distance three times over and still fight at the end of it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Jacen said, “because that’s probably what you’re going to have to do.” He glanced around the icy corner again. “How far do you figure before they reach those carriages?”

“There are only two more junctions between here and the iceway terminus.”

“Then I guess we’d better get moving. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“You just worry about keeping up,” she said.

He smiled at the commander’s quip, then continued
with his pursuit. He was more cautious this time, because they were well within sight of Aabe’s party. He didn’t know how well sound carried through the fields keeping the heat in, but he couldn’t afford to assume that their approach would be covered. He didn’t even know if he’d be able to penetrate the field walls around the bubble. Another two corners would give him and Irolia time to catch up as Aabe and Wyn reached the terminus, when they would be distracted and out of the fields.

As Jacen drew closer, a faint hissing broke the silence. The sound came from the field walls as they swept over the icy surfaces around the bubble. Beneath the sound was a hint of voices, too low for him to catch anything more than broken fragments. From the handful of words he was able to make out, though, he knew that Wyn was starting to question Aabe’s intentions, asking why her father was having her transported via the iceways rather than the barge. Aabe muttered something that went unheard, as did Wyn’s response—although there was no mistaking the misgivings in the girl’s tone.

They rounded one corner, then the second; all that lay between them and the iceway terminus now was a straight stretch of tunnel. Jacen and Irolia kept pace with the bubble, lurking just beyond the wash of light it cast. Jacen unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and held it ready, his thumb resting on the activation stud.

The bubble dissolved as Aabe, the guards, and Wyn left the tunnel. Beyond them was the terminus—a much smaller space than Jacen had imagined. Long and narrow, it had a series of sliding panels set into the far wall, which Jacen presumed to be air locks leading to the carriages.

Jacen and Irolia stopped at the end of the tunnel, watching quietly as Aabe and the others crossed the narrow room to one of the sliding doors. Only when one of these doors grated open did Wyn give in to the misgivings Jacen had heard in her voice.

“I’d like to talk to my father,” she said, pulling away from the ex-Imperial and his Chiss sidekicks. “I want to know where he’s sending me.”

“It’s a little late to ask that, don’t you think?” Aabe’s skull gleamed. His mouth, overshadowed by his large nose, curled into a menacing snarl.

She shook her head uneasily. “This isn’t right,” she said, taking another step back. “You’re lying to me. My father wouldn’t ask me to be taken down here!”

Aabe rounded on her in order to cut off her route to the exit. “And what possible reason would I have to lie to you, child? I am your father’s trusted servant. You know that. Why do you dishonor me with such accusations?”

“Trusted
servant?” she shot back, looking frightened but determined. “My father says he never even
heard
of you until you turned up on the Chiss border, looking for asylum. He thinks you’re a deserter!”

Jacen could no longer see Aabe’s face, but his posture noticeably stiffened. “Your accusations grow with your hysteria, child,” he said frostily. “You should be mindful of the things you say.”

“Do you deny it?” she continued, regardless of the obvious danger she was in.

“It is irrelevant,” he replied, unclipping the holster at his waist. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not, and I’ll hear no more said about your father. His time is over. The CEDF has better things to do than pander to neighbors who can’t mind their own affairs. The sooner he and you are out of the way, the better it will be for all concerned.”