Ben logged his identichip at the transit security control gate-bogus, naturally, one of a dozen he carried-and was still expecting a sudden wail of alarms for a good ten paces as he headed for the open walkway. But nothing happened. All he had to do now was remember to disguise his walk to defeat the gait recognition system on security cams, and then he could wander around at will. A small pebble in each boot changed his stride enough to cheat the software without crippling him. In his bag-a reversible bag-there were various changes of clothing. He got as far as the first public refreshers by a branch of the Bank of Aargau and started adding to the deception.
That’s your problem, Jacen. You taught me all this. Or at least the GAG did.
In a cubicle, he changed his tunic, cap, and pants, turned the bag inside out to show its light brown side, and repacked. He changed shoes to ones with stack heels. Then he emerged a totally different person, walking differently and dressed differently. He’d keep doing that, and the security cams would have no pattern to track.
Lon Shevu’s girlfriend, Shula Palasj, worked for a haulage company. He’d start with her; no comlink calls, just in case. The GAG might be monitoring, the same way Ben had eavesdropped on Senators and politicians when he was in the Guard. He made his way to Shula’s workplace, doubling back occasionally just as Jori Lekauf had-It hit him hard sometimes. Even when he was mired in grief over Mom, Lekauf would suddenly appear in his mind, and he’d feel it all over again. It wasn’t any less of a sense of loss than the one he felt for his mother, just different, and it could still make him stop breathing for a mo-ment while he steadied himself. Lekauf had taught him about evading detection and tracking others, so this was another way of ensuring that his sacrifice to save Ben hadn’t been in vain; using that training to bring down Jacen was right.
Ben swung right into a walkway lined with clothing stores and tapcafs. What do I really mean by “bring him down”? He was sure now that he didn’t mean killing him. It wasn’t Ben’s job to be the judge. He was just getting a case together, and someone else would decide what to do with Jacen in the end.
What do you do with a deposed dictator? A Sith, too? And if Dad sorts him out and gets him hack to the light side, how can I even be in the same room as him after what he’s done?
First things first; and first was proving a case against him, although Ben knew there were ordinary folk who’d say that Jacen was already guilty of enough, and that killing a Jedi didn’t actually take him into a new category of monstrosity. It was just a personal act of betrayal, and Ben knew he had to put that aside.
Most murders happen within families. Did I think we’d be any different?
Yes. I did. We’re Jedi.
Ben alternated between speeder bus-paying by cash credits, not traceable chips-and walking between docking stations. He was finding he didn’t need to affect a different walk now. The slightly higher heels had altered the angle of his spine, giving him twinges. An hour and a few changes of appearance later, he stood outside a branch depot of GalactiSend.
When he walked in, he couldn’t see a face he recognized. It was a busy place; beings of all kinds lined up waiting to dispatch parcels or held datapads in their hands, checking in consignments. He intercepted a droid in GalactiSend livery skimming through the reception area.
“Is Shula around?” he asked. “Shula Pakasj?”
“She no longer works here, “said the droid. Well, that was sudden; it could only have happened recently, because the last time he’d spoken to Shevu, she’d still been here. “Thanks, “he said, and wandered out to amble along the walkway and rethink his strategy.
He’d have to go direct to Shevu’s apartment now. He hadn’t wanted to, just in case Shevu was under surveillance, but he still had the passcard, and if Shevu had changed the code…. well, that wouldn’t slow Ben down much. He spent the next couple of hours taking a circuitous route to the apartment block. By the time he got to the last leg of the journey, he was tired and fed up with changing his clothing.
As in most apartment buildings in the capital, an array of crime prevention cams kept watch on the entrance. Ben visualized the sensors getting a sudden burst of intense light, using the Force to overload them for a moment to give him time to pass into the turbolift. All the monitoring system would see was a short period of dark shapes as the cam tried to compensate for the light levels its sensor told it were there. At the four hundredth floor, Ben slipped out into the corridor and stood outside Shevu’s door for a mo-ment, trying to sense if anyone was inside.