Star Wars: Survivor's Quest

CHAPTER 4

Formbi hurried off down the stairway to where General Drask was waiting, Feesa following close behind.

Leaving the three humans gazing at each other.

Jinzler broke the silence first. "I see you've been talking to Talon Karrde," he said.

"What makes you say that?" Luke asked, his voice giving nothing away.

"Your expressions," Jinzler said. He smiled faintly. "Or, rather, your complete lack of them. You probably want to know what this is all about."

"Why don't you tell us?" Luke suggested. From the calmness in his voice it was clear Luke was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt, at least for the moment.

Which was a full moment longer than Mara herself was interested in giving him. She threw a quick glance down at the command floor, wondering what Luke would say if she called Formbi back up here and denounced Jinzler on the spot.

But Formbi seemed to be having a quiet, three-way argument with Drask and Talshib on the podium. Interrupting them at this point might not be a smart thing to do.

"For starters, let me assure you I'm not here for any kind of financial gain," Jinzler said. "I'm not looking for power or influence or blackmail, either."

"Well, that cuts out all the interesting possibilities," Mara said tartly. "How about telling us what you are here for?"

"I can also promise you that I won't make any trouble," Jinzler continued. "I won't try to influence the Chiss or get in the way of whatever negotiations or other diplomatic plans you have."

"You're already making trouble, just by being here," Mara told him.

"You're also stalling," Luke said. "What do you want?"

Jinzler took a deep breath, let it out in a controlled huff. "I have to see Outbound Flight," he said quietly, his gaze drifting to the display and the image of the Geroon ship. "I have to..."

He closed his eyes briefly. "I'm sorry, but it's extremely personal."

"Very touching," Mara said. "Also very inadequate. Let's try it from a different direction. Why are you impersonating a New Republic official?"

Jinzler's throat tightened. "Because I'm a nobody," he said, a touch of bitterness edging into his voice. "And because the only way to get to Outbound Flight is aboard an official Chiss ship, at the invitation of the official Chiss government. You really think they'd let me aboard if they knew the truth?"

"I don't know," Luke said. "Why don't we try it?"

Jinzler shook his head. "I can't risk it," he said. "I have to see that ship, Master Skywalker. I have to..." He shook his head again.

"How did you expect to get away with it?" Luke asked. "Did you think we wouldn't notice you weren't a properly credentialed ambassador?"

"I thought you might not get the message in time and would miss Formbi's deadline," Jinzler said. "If you did make it—" He shrugged uncomfortably. "I hoped you'd understand."

"Understand what?" Mara retorted. "You won't even tell us what it is we're supposed to understand."

"I know." He smiled wanly. "Pretty foolish of me, I guess. But it was all I had."

Mara looked past him at Luke, a sour taste in her mouth. An accomplished actor, she knew, could pull off a performance this good. So could most of the good con men she'd known throughout her life.

But acting ability and deep sighs weren't nearly enough to fool a Jedi. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore the fact that her senses were picking up the same earnest emotional struggle in his mind as was coming out in his face and words.

The man was rash, not much of a long-range thinker, possibly even an out-and-out fool. But he was also completely sincere.

But then, she'd been sincere, too, the whole time she'd served Palpatine as the Emperor's Hand. She'd done everything he'd ordered her to, including assassinations of corrupt officials and Rebels alike, with all the sincerity anyone could ever have asked for.

No, sincerity alone didn't count for much. In fact, when you came right down to it, it didn't count for anything at all.

"Mara?" Luke invited.

"No," she said firmly. "Unless he's willing to tell us—right now—exactly why he wants aboard, I say he gets tossed off."

She lifted her eyebrows at Jinzler. "Well?"

The lines around Jinzler's eyes deepened, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little. "I can't," he said softly. "It's just—"

He broke off, his gaze flicking over Mara's shoulder. "Aristocra Formbi," he said, the indecision and pain abruptly gone from his voice, though not from his sense. "What's the situation with our guests?"

Mara turned to see Formbi climbing back up the steps toward them, an odd tightness in his face and tread. "They're coming with us," he said.

"What, all of them?" Luke asked.

"Apparently, that is exactly what you are seeing," Formbi said soberly. "The Geroon Remnant, all that remain of their people, packed into that single vessel."

"What happened?" Jinzler asked.

Formbi shrugged. "Apparently, their release from slavery by those aboard Outbound Flight came too late," he said. "The Vagaari had already caused too much damage to their world for it to continue to support life."

"Like the Caamasi," Luke murmured. "Or the Noghri."

"I'm not familiar with those peoples," Formbi said. "At any rate, in the end, after plagues and starvation, they had no choice but to leave. Even now they search for a new world where they may live again in peace."

"That's terrible," Jinzler murmured. "Can you help them?"

"Perhaps," Formbi said. "A delegation will come aboard presently to examine some of our star charts. Perhaps we can find an uninhabited world outside Chiss territory where they can settle."

"I take it General Drask isn't too pleased with that?" Jinzler asked.

"He's not pleased at all," Formbi agreed with a wry smile. "Though to be honest, he's not pleased to have all you humans aboard, either. But in the end, my counsel prevailed."

"What about their request to visit Outbound Flight?" Luke asked.

"We'll allow their vessel to accompany us to the edge of the cluster where the remains are located," Formbi said. "At that point, I may need to have another discussion with General Drask. Still, I'm sure at least a small delegation of their people will be continuing on with us."

"What exactly do they want there?" Jinzler asked.

Formbi sighed. "To pay their respects to those who saved them," he said. "To say their final farewells."

It was all Mara could do to keep from jerking backward. The sudden flood of emotion that erupted from Jinzler's mind was like a stun burst from a blaster rifle.

She looked at him sharply. But aside from a twitching muscle in his cheek, his face showed nothing of the sudden anguish and heartache that had been triggered by Formbi's comment.

To pay their respects. To say their final farewells...

"At any rate, with all now assembled, we may finally proceed," Formbi continued. "Feesa will show you to your personal quarters, Master Skywalker."

"Thank you," Luke said. He looked at Mara, a question in his eyes.

Again, there was a sour taste in Mara's mouth. But there'd been something in Jinzler's silent burst of emotion that had touched a part of her she hadn't even known was there.

Or perhaps she had. Perhaps it was her own past as the Emperor's Hand, and her own reluctance to talk about it, that his presence had brought to mind.

She took a deep breath, caught the expectation in Luke and the quiet dread in Jinzler as she did so. Both of them knew exactly what she was about to say.

Both of them were wrong. "I thank you, as well, Aristocra Formbi," she said. "We'll look forward to spending more time with you."

She had the minor satisfaction of catching the surprise from both men at her comment. "You're quite welcome," Formbi said, oblivious to what was going on beneath the surface. "We shall meet again in a few hours. There will be a reception dinner; Feesa will meet you at your quarters shortly beforehand to escort you there. I will then introduce you to the rest of the vessel's officers and diplomatic staff."

"Thank you, Aristocra," Luke said. "We'll look forward to both the dinner and the meetings."

"Yes," Mara agreed, looking pointedly at Jinzler. "And I'm sure we'll have a chance there to talk more fully, Ambassador."

Because she would find out about this man, she promised herself as Feesa led them back down the curving corridor. She would find out about him, and she would find out the reason he was here.

And she would do so before they reached Outbound Flight. Guaranteed.

The quarters Feesa took them to were small but well laid out, with a compact conversation area as well as the usual sleeping room and refresher station. "Not bad," Luke commented as he looked around. "A lot roomier than some shipboard berths I've been put up in."

"Yes," Mara said, watching the door slide shut behind her, her thoughts still on Jinzler and his disturbing emotional reaction.

"You're not even looking at it," Luke said, stepping through an archway into the bedroom and flopping backward onto the bed. "Let me guess. Jinzler?"

"Since when does a Jedi Master have to guess?" Mara asked dryly, trying to shake away the questions long enough for at least a perfunctory glance around the room. Overall, the decor was simple, as one would expect of shipboard accommodations. But at the same time it had the small touches of elegance that showed someone had put thought and care into it. The Chiss, apparently, took their host responsibilities seriously.

"Even Jedi Masters sometimes have trouble sorting through a plate of prunchti noodles," Luke countered, just as dryly. "That's about what you're looking like right now."

"What an appetizing image," Mara said. "And with dinner—" She looked at the chrono on the wall. "—still almost three hours away. Maybe there's a cantina aboard where I could get a snack."

"You want to talk about it?" Luke asked.

She shrugged. "I don't think he's a con man," she said. "Too emotionally connected to the whole thing. I can't see him acting as an agent for someone else, either, for the same reason. I suppose—"

"I meant you," Luke interrupted her gently. "Your reaction."

Mara grimaced. One of the minuses of having a Jedi husband was that you were never completely alone. "I don't know," she confessed. "There was just something in Formbi's comment about paying respects that got to me somehow."

"Any idea why?"

"Not really." She looked around the room, a small shiver running through her. "Or maybe it has to do with this place. Going back to Nirauan; and now the Chiss—"

"And Thrawn?"

"Maybe Thrawn," she agreed. "Though I don't know why that should bother me so much."

Luke didn't reply, but she could sense his invitation. Crossing the room, she lay down on the bed beside him. He slipped his arm around beneath her shoulders, and for a minute they just lay snuggled together, their minds and emotions wrapping around each other in much the same way. "Maybe it's the Force, then," Luke suggested. "Maybe there's something you need to work through, something you've been putting off or suppressing, and the time has come for you to deal with it. That's happened to me once or twice."

"I suppose," Mara said. "I just wish the Force would pick a time when things are quieter if it's going to push me into something."

She sensed his smile. "Me, too," he said. "If you ever figure out how to schedule things that neatly, let me know."

"You'll be the first," she promised, reaching up to pat the hand around her shoulder.

He caught her hand and held it. "Until then," he said quietly, stroking her hand with his fingertips, "just remember that I'm here for you. For whatever you need from me."

She squeezed his hand. "I know," she said, feeling his warmth and strength and commitment flowing into her, flooding into the dark areas that Jinzler's emotions had opened in her.

One of the plusses of having a Jedi husband, she thought contentedly, was that you were never completely alone.

They lay there together for a few minutes. Then, with a sigh, Mara forced her mind back to business. "So," she said. "What do you think of the rest of this setup?"

"Well, it's definitely not as cheering as we might like," he said. "Did you notice the way Formbi looked when he came up after that talk with General Drask and Captain Talshib?"

Mara thought back. She'd been concentrating mainly on Jinzler at the time, and all she could remember about Formbi was his general expression. "He looked tired," she said.

"It was more than that," Luke said. "It was as if he'd just fought a battle, and wasn't sure whether he'd won or lost."

"Mm," Mara said, slightly annoyed at herself. Usually she was better at catching details like that. "You think Drask and Talshib aren't happy about having all these aliens aboard a Chiss ship and are giving Formbi a hard time about it?"

"They're certainly not happy about something," Luke said. "Though it sounds to me like an Aristocra is higher in rank than a general."

"That's never stopped anyone else from complaining," Mara pointed out. "And I've seen a higher-ranking person give in just to shut the complainer up."

"So have I," Luke said. "We'll want to keep an eye on things and see how Drask does as we go along."

"Uh-huh," Mara murmured. "Tell me, do you think Drask might be annoyed enough about us to actually do something about it?"

"Such as?"

"Such as that accident with the cable in the reception room," Mara said. "The timing there was almost too good to be coincidence."

For a few seconds Luke didn't answer. Mara listened to the silence, watching the kaleidoscope of thought and emotion go through his mind as he examined the possibilities. "I don't know," he said at last. "It probably wouldn't have killed me even if it had hit me dead-on. But it could easily have put me out of action for a time while I went into a healing trance."

"Which would have left me more or less on my own," Mara said. "Alternatively, it might have given Drask an excuse to kick us off the mission completely."

"He would have had a tough job selling it," Luke pointed out. "It's pretty clear Formbi wants us along."

"Maybe, but at least it would have given him an added lever," Mara said.

Abruptly, she came to a decision. "I'll be back," she said, making sure her lightsaber was securely fastened to her belt as she headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Luke called after her, propping himself up on an elbow.

"Back to the reception room," Mara said. "I want a closer look at that cable."

"You want me to come with you?" Luke asked, starting to stand up.

"Better not," Mara said, shaking her head. "One Jedi poking around is idle curiosity; two of them is an official investigation. There's no point in adding fuel to Drask's fire."

"I suppose." Reluctantly, Luke sat back down on the bed. "Whistle if you need any help."

"Of course," Mara said, giving him an innocent look. "Don't I always?"

She managed to get out of the room before he could come up with a suitably sarcastic reply.

The corridors back to the reception room were fairly quiet. Mara saw perhaps a dozen black-uniformed Chiss on her way, and most of them pretty much ignored her. A few seemed interested or intrigued by her alien appearance, but even that small handful said nothing as they passed by. Either the culture was just naturally polite, or else Formbi had given strict instructions as to how his guests were to be treated.

It was interesting, though, how much more of their emotional states she was able to pick up this time around. Back on Nirauan, during her first brush with groups of Chiss, she'd barely even been able to sense their presence. Experience and practice apparently paid off in this area.

Of course, back then she hadn't been a true Jedi, either. Maybe that was part of the difference.

Not surprisingly, the reception room was deserted when she reached it. Somewhat more surprising was the fact that the loose cable that had nearly hit Luke had already been reattached.

She stood just inside the archway for a moment, eyeing the cable. It was nestled into a cable groove between the ceiling and the bulkhead, a good six meters off the deck. That wasn't an impossible jump for a Jedi, but a simple jump wouldn't accomplish very much. She needed to be able to sit there for a minute or two in order to examine the end where it had either broken or been cut. And as far as she knew, even Jedi couldn't hover in midair.

But there might be another approach. Formbi had said that the reception area could be automatically reconfigured and decorated for arriving guests...

It took a minute for her to find the control panel, set into the bulkhead just inside the archway and hidden behind a plate colored the same neutral gray as the rest of the paneling. The controls consisted of a dozen buttons, each labeled with an alien mark. Experimentally, she pushed one of them.

Smoothly, and in complete silence, the room began to change. A dozen wall sections of various sizes and shapes began to swing outward, exposing intricate symbols or painted patterns on their other sides, then settled back against the bulkheads with the patterns now showing. Parts of the ceiling likewise swung free to hang like flags or else began to lower as rectangular or circular columns to various heights, leaving the room with a sort of stylized stalactite look.

The deck itself underwent the most dramatic changes. Instead of large panels flipping or rotating or otherwise changing, tiny lights that had hitherto been invisible came to life, forming intricate spirals and patterns of color. As she watched, the patterns altered, giving a sense of water flowing from the hatchway over to the arch.

A minute later, it was finished. Mara looked around at the entirely new room that had appeared, impressed in spite of herself, wondering which level of Chiss official could command this particular brand of welcome.

She tried two more buttons in turn. Each time, she noted, the room went back to neutral before changing into its new configuration.

Unfortunately, none of the changes did anything with the cable she wanted to examine. Through it all, that particular edge of ceiling stayed where it was, with the cable remaining firmly out of reach.

Which meant she was going to have to be clever.

She went back to the first button she'd tried, studying the positions of the swinging wall panels and lowering ceiling columns and counting off the seconds to herself. It would just be possible, she decided. And in her philosophy, anything that was possible might as well be tried.

She put the room back into neutral and prepared herself for action. One Jedi poking around is idle curiosity, she'd told Luke. She wondered if Formbi would really take it that way if he caught her.

Taking a deep breath, she touched the button and ran.

She caught the lowermost of the panels before it had swung more than a few degrees open, leaping up and grabbing its top edge with her fingertips. Her first fear, that it would break off under her weight and dump her ignominiously onto the deck, didn't happen. She didn't give it the chance to change its mind, either, but quickly pulled herself partway up and then shoved off it, lunging toward the next panel a meter to her right. She caught the top of this one about a quarter of the way open, again pulled herself up, and again shoved off for the next in the climbing pattern she'd worked out. By the time her last stepping-stone panel was about to swing closed, she was where she needed to be. Pushing off one final time, she leapt across a meter and a half of empty space and wrapped her arms around the side of the nearest of the lowered ceiling columns.

For a moment she just hung there, catching her breath and stretching out to the Force to draw renewed strength into her muscles. The column's texture was rough enough for a good grip and, like the wall panels, seemed perfectly capable of handling her weight. Getting a grip on the lower part of the column with her knees, she started up.

The going wasn't particularly easy, but the thought of some Chiss wandering in and catching her hanging up here like an oversized mynock added motivation to the climb. Halfway up, she reached another column and switched to a back-and-feet chimney-style ascent. Reaching the top, she grabbed on to one of the flaglike ceiling sections that was now hanging straight down. Using it as a pivot point, she swung over to a column hanging down in the corner.

And with that, she finally had a close-up view of the rogue cable.

She squinted at it, wishing she'd thought to bring a light. The room itself was well lit, but the end where the cable had been reattached to its connector was inconveniently lying in shadow from the ceiling column she was hanging on to.

Still, a Jedi was never entirely without resources. Looking awkwardly over her shoulder toward her waist, she reached out through the Force and unhooked her lightsaber from her belt. Levitating it carefully, she maneuvered it over to the corner, turning the handle over so that the blade would be pointing safely downward. Then, eyeing the stud, she ignited it.

The snap-hiss somehow sounded louder than usual in the corner of a quiet room. The lightsaber didn't put out all that much light, but it was enough.

The cable had not, in fact, been cut, which had been her first suspicion. On the other hand, the connection appeared to be a double screw-type linkage, which was almost impossible for vibration or tension to work loose.

So how had it come apart?

Moving the lightsaber as close to the connection as she could without risking damage, she peered at it. On the side of the cable, just above the connector, was a slight indentation. Lifting her gaze to the ceiling itself, she spotted a small round opening above and to the right of the groove.

Adjusting her grip on the column, she freed one hand and gingerly extended a finger into the opening. Nothing. She moved the finger around in a circle inside the opening, searching for the machinery or electronic connectors or heat radiator vanes that should naturally be behind any opening on a ship.

Or rather, the equipment that should be behind any opening that was part of a ship's actual design. The lack of anything up there strongly implied that this particular hole had been put in as an afterthought.

She was still working through the possibilities when a flicker of sensation touched her mind.

Instantly, she closed down the lightsaber, shutting off its gentle hum. In the sudden silence, she could hear footsteps coming her way. Several sets, by the sound, but in too close a step to be Chiss on a casual stroll around the ship. This group was definitely military.

And here she was, trapped in a compromising position six meters in midair.

She looked around her, biting back an old curse from her days with the Empire. The column she was hanging on to was the only cover anywhere within reach. Problem was, she was hanging on the wrong side of it, in full view of the room below. She would have to work her way around to the wall side if she was going to have any chance of concealment; and from the speed those footsteps were approaching, she wasn't likely to have enough time.

Reaching out her free hand, she grabbed her lightsaber and reestablished a firm two-armed, two-kneed grip on the column. Then, moving as quickly as she could, she started maneuvering herself around toward the far side.

She was almost halfway around when the intruders marched in beneath the archway. She froze in place, shifting her gaze downward to look.

As she did so, her heart seemed to turn to stone.

Those weren't Chiss soldiers, sent by General Drask to hunt her down. They weren't even Chiss soldiers on routine patrol, searching for suspicious activities.

There were five figures below her, standing just inside the reception room in a loose box formation. The one in the center was a human male, young looking, wearing a gray Imperial uniform modified with rings of red and black trim on the collar and cuffs.

The other four were Imperial stormtroopers.