“The only real chance for us to catch her lies with you, Lando,” Drayson said softly. “You must help us find you.”
But it was not Drayson’s way to abandon someone he had sent into danger. His fingers danced over his controller, bringing an inventory of Alpha Blue’s assets in Sector 151 to the screen. There might be little he could
Shield of Lies ˇ17
do, but he would do what he could. And there was always some way to alter the odds.
The habits of the Senate’s Council on Security and Intelligence were not unlike those of the institutions over which it reigned. It announced no meetings, released no public reports, and met only in closed session in the field-shielded Room 030, deep in the subbasements of the old Imperial Palace.
So earnestly secretive were the seven sitting members
that,
in Coruscant’s own dialect of Basic, the phrase “CSI agenda” had become a benchmark for the unattainable, the impossible item on a scavenger hunt. Discouraged suitors would despair that they had “a better chance of taking a CSI agenda home.” Subordinates handed a daunting task could comfort themselves with the thought It could be worse he could want a CSI agenda, too.
Even Drayson found it difficult to discover when the CSI would take up Pakkpekatt’s request. And when he finally did learn about that session, it was too late to find a way to listen in.
“Last item on the agenda is the Teljkon expedition,” said General Carlist Rieekan. “May I assume that you all received your copies of the report?” He waited a moment, then, hearing no dissent, went on.
“Discussion, please.”
Senator Krall Praget of Edatha, chairman of the CSI, leaned back in his chair and combed his fingers back through his skulldown. “What is there to decide?
The mission was a failure. Close the books.”
“Lando Calrissian and his team are still aboard the vagabond,” Rieekan reminded him gently.
“What reason do you have to think they’re still alive?” Praget asked.
“Why would any captain capable of acting as surely and decisively as the captain of the vagabond did in escaping make the mistake of not repelling boarders with equal vigor?”
“It is possible that they were taken prisoner,” said Rieekan. “It is even possible that they escaped capture.”
Praget pulled his datapad toward him. “How do you account for the contact suit gauntlet found by the recovery teams? It’s Calrissian’s, I believe.”
“I don’t have an explanation,” Rieekan admitted.
“General Rieekan,” said Senator Cair Tok Noimm.
“Do I understand correctly that the gauntlet is undamaged and there is no blood on it?”
“That’s correct.”
She nodded. “In that case, this gauntlet does not seem to me to be reason enough to abandon these people to their fate.”
“It’s not clear to me what we can do for them,” said Senator Amamanam, who represented the Bdas on Coruscant.
“Unless Senator Noimm would like to lead us in prayer to the Star Mother- -” The laughter around the table was cold, but Noimm’s eyes were colder. “There are two lives at stake here—the lives of two valuable friends of the New Republic.
And please remember that the droids are of no small value, either—they had their own role in making it possible for there to be a New Republic. I doubt there are any droids anywhere who are better known than these two—or better loved, for that matter.”
“If they are so important to the New Republic, they should be in the museum, along with all the other beloved icons,” said Praget curtly.
“Along with Luke Skywalker, to whom they belong?” asked Senator Lillald. “I must agree with Cair Tok. I would not want to face the questions that would come if these four were to disappear in our service and we were to make no effort to recover them.”
“In our service? Have you read the account of how they came to be on that ship? They can hardly be said to be in our service,” said Senator Amamanam. “General, could you kindly explain to us how it is that the Baron Calrissian and the others came to be involved in the first place?
I don’t recall there being any mention of them in the expedition plan you brought to us.”
“General Calrissian was representing the Fleet on this mission, at the request of the Fleet Office,” Rieekan said deliberately. “The others comprise his support staff, pparently assembled specifically for this mission.”
“This is all so absurd,” Praget fumed. “If it were Hammax and his men on board the vagabond, as it should have been, we would not be having this discussion.
Either they would have disabled the ship, or we’d be sending our regrets to the families of the missing in action.”