“I don’t need you to make me feel better about it.”
“Just saying it wouldn’t have made much difference numerically if the Republic bad believed the intel we gave them. Millions were still going to die either way.”
Fett thought of the other information he’d handed over to the New Republic, the plans of the warship and analyses and samples of the random scraps of biological material he and Beviin had grabbed. The Republic could have been working on ways to counter the Yuuzhan Vong’s organic technology. But they’d ignore it. He just knew they would.
“We keep handing it over until they get the message.”
“As long as Pretty-Boy Nom doesn’t catch on,” Beviin said. “And sooner or later he’s going to realize we ought to be more efficient and that there should be
Fett was still pondering a better way to pass intelligence to the New Republic when his comlink chirped.
“Infidel! This is Subaltern Bur’lorr. I need your assistance. I hunt a Jeedai.”
“Jedi?” Fett ignored the warrior’s jibe and clung to the one word he never thought would give him hope. “You sure about that?”
“He has a light weapon. He leapt from a high built-thing and was not harmed.”
“Leave him to me.” said Fett. “Jedi are my specialty. They killed my father.”
Beviin shoved his helmet back on and adjusted his belt, scabbard and sheaths rattling. “Oya. Yes, indeed, oya…”
“I shall drive him toward you,” said the subaltern. “His light weapon made no impression on my armor, which seemed to surprise him.”
I’ll bet. “Send me the coordinates.”
“Have your troops cut him off. Our shapers want a live Jeedai to examine.”
Fett relayed the coordinates to the rest of the squad and switched to the secure comlink channel. “We need him alive more than they do. A Jedi will be able to tell we’re not lying, and he can take the data back.”
“I’ve never seen a Jedi before,” said Dinua.
Beviin cut in, playing his father role. He seemed to like it. “He won’t be too pleased to see us, so don’t take any chances with his lightsaber.”
“What’s a Jedi doing here anyway?”
“He’s here. That’s good enough. Now let’s get to him before they do.”
The subaltern’s coordinates took them to a long road branching off what had been the main marketplace of the Five Cities. Large parts of it were now scoured down to the soil as if the buildings and trees had never been there, evidence that the dread weapon-as the Yuuzhan Vong called the warships scavenging tube-had passed this way. Fett’s penetrating radar and sensors picked up erratic movement and an organic target with
human
body temperature, moving in a row of bombed houses that were still smoking from the fires started by magma weapons.
“Okay, we can crack him, but he can sense us, remember,” said Fett. He gestured the Detta brothers to the south end of the alley and Briika and Dinua to the broken roof overlooking it. “Beviin, go and stall the subaltern. Buy us some time. Tiroc, with me.”
The Jedi was in a section of alley about ten meters long that ran along the rear of the houses. Rubble had partly blocked it; Fett tracked him with his motion sensor almost to the end of the alley. Then the movement stopped.
“Briika?”
She patched her view of the scene through to Fett’s HUD. Judging by the angle, she was lying flat on the roof with her head hanging over into the alley. “See him? He’s in a bad way.”
The Jedi was a middle-aged, solidly square man in dark gray civilian pants and a battered blue jacket. He was slumped against a wall, eyes closed, face blackened and burned. Clutched in one hand was the hilt of a lightsaber.
Fett primed his jet pack and slipped a stun round into the dart thrower on his wrist. With any luck, the shock would be enough to subdue the Jedi without killing him. Fett needed the man to be fit enough to make it back to New Republic lines.
Fett hit the burner controls and soared over the scorched wall as the Jedi looked up and went for his weapon. For an injured man, his reflexes were sobering: his lightsaber was humming a heartbeat before Fett dropped into the alleyway and fired the stun round. The projectile streaked past the Jedi’s slashing lightsaber and stuck fast to his chest, sending a disruptive charge through his body. It dropped him instantly and the lightsaber fell to the ground, but he still struggled to reach for his weapon, fingers splayed, hand shaking uncontrollably.
“Don’t push your luck,” Fett said. He kicked the lightsaber hilt into the air with the spiked toecap of his boot and caught it one-handed. “I’m short of a green one for my collection.”