“Jacen,” she said hoarsely.
Han scanned the screen, expecting to see Jacen injured or attacked, and then saw his son, his little boy who had always had a soft heart and who could feel pain for others, directing soldiers into buildings to drag out Corellians.
In that way of terrible and unimaginable things, it didn’t look real. His mind conjured up a scenario instantly: it was a vile piece of fake propaganda. It was Thrackan’s doing. It was a lie.
But it wasn’t. Leia put her hand to her mouth.
Jacen even had his lightsaber drawn. And he had Ben with him. Ben was taking part in the raid.
Han couldn’t speak.
“Honey, what’s happening to him?” Leia’s voice was a whisper. “How can he do this?”
She turned up the volume. The voice-over faded in and all Han could take in were the words, “. . emergency powers have been granted for the internment of Corellian citizens resident in Galactic City …”
Han felt guilty that he saw not fellow Corellians being herded into assault ships but himself being betrayed by his own son. You should be thinking of the bigger picture. You used to be able to do that, you self-centered bum. But as much as he tried to be altruistic, the horror and outrage that was replacing his shock was for himself and Leia.
Not even Jaina. Now I know what she meant when she asked him if he was in trouble.
All Han could think now was that they could be on the run from their own son-and that they’d be even less welcome back in Coronet if their identities were discovered.
“Threepio?” Han called. “Threepio! When the Falcon’s ready, fly her over to us any way you can. Get back to the apartment now and call Jaina. Tell her we’ll talk to her later. We have to go. Got it?”
“I have indeed got it, Captain Solo.”
Leia said nothing. She eased past Han and settled in the cockpit. When things were bad, she usually became very calm and decisive. It was a barometer of how serious a crisis they were facing.
“Ready to lift,” she said quietly, checking the status readouts as if she hadn’t just watched her son turn into a monster on HNE in front of the whole galaxy. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Ten
To see a Jedi take up his lightsaber against civilians is shocking. But to see the son and nephew of the leader of the Jedi council doing it is heartbreaking.
-Master Cilghal, Jedi high council
PERIMETER FENCE, ARKANIAN MICROTECHNOLOGIES: VOHAI, PARMEL SECTOR: 1600 HOURS.
The bigger companies grew, the more complacent their security became. Fett could remember when Arkanian Micro was a tough nut to crack.
He knelt on one knee in the cover of bushes and used the scope of his EE-3 blaster to observe employees passing through the security gate.
“I could be useful,” said the voice in his helmet comlink.
“Stay off this channel.”
“Women can get access to places that men often can’t.”
Mirta was persistent. Fett bristled.
“You’ll spend the journey back in the cells if you don’t shut up.”
She was still locked inside Slave I-hidden in the cover of a disused silo a kilometer away-confined to the crew section this time. She couldn’t activate the ship’s drives, but Fett had left a couple of comlink channels unguarded. If she was any good, she’d find them-and if she was double-crossing him, she’d use them and then he’d know who she was working with. So far all she had done was call him.
“Okay,” she said, apparently unperturbed. “I’ll stand by.”
The only person Fett had ever trusted was his father. Neither of them was a natural team player. He could handle command when he had to, but he liked working alone, and the current task was a case in point. He could either talk his way into Arkanian Micro, or he could do what he did best, which was to observe, identify the weak point, infiltrate by force-and take what he needed.
Talking wasn’t his strong point.
The staff moved in and out. A security guard on the gate and two sentinel droids scrutinized each individual going in and coming out, sweeping them with sensors.
Arkanian Micro had once buried its most sensitive laboratories in the polar ice of the planet, but now it seemed to prefer the softer suburbs and landscaped business parks. Fat and lazy. It was cheaper to build on the surface. Vohai hadn’t suffered at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong and it had grown complacent.
That was just what Fett needed.
He liked companies with tough security best, though, because they provided a handy pointer to the target. You didn’t protect what you didn’t value most. Let’s look for a few clues.
Kaminoans wouldn’t stroll out through the gates with a lunch box under one arm. Kaminoans liked cold, wet gloom. Vohai was pleasantly sunny much of the year. Fett called up the aerial view of the Micro complex on his HUD and worked out where he would place an office to ensure it had no natural light. The layout as seen in the frame that Slave I’s scanners had grabbed before landing showed a sprawl of building that was essentially a square core with a lot of thin arms radiating off it, and many courtyards. Humans-most species, in fact-liked bright natural light to work in.