Scorch carried on swinging his boot against the metal frame. “Is it true he killed one?”
“Who knows? He’s crazy enough.”
“So what’s Vau going to do with his stash?” Sev turned around, grabbed Scorch’s ankle, and twisted to make the point. “Maybe he’ll pay for a nice beskar saber for me so I can remove the source of this irritation.”
“Come on, you’d miss me if I got killed …”
“Nobody’s going to get killed. Except by me.”
“Shut up, you two.” Boss took a sudden intense interest in the TIV’s rectenna display. “Busy lane. Don’t distract the pilot.”
Fixer, gaze glued to his datapad, suddenly stirred and pulled off his helmet. “Paydirt.”
“What?” Sev asked.
“Fifteen flights booked in that originated on Aquaris or Vaynai. Five of those passed through both. Two of that five went on to Da Soocha. One paid for in cash credits.”
Boss muttered to himself. “Very busy lane …”
“Vessels?” Scorch asked.
“One hydrographic survey vessel, one private charter. The droggy ship was the cash credit transaction.”
“So she’s doing the waterworld grand tour.” Sev pictured the rough layout of the galaxy, mentally plotting a course from Kamino, then to Vaynai, then Aquaris, then Da Soocha. It looked as if Ko Sai had headed out along the margin of the Outer Rim toward the Tingel Arm and then looped back, maybe to cover her tracks, maybe to avoid something. Whatever she was doing, she was hopping from one ocean world to another. “Looking for a new house with a pool?”
“Better find the pilot and shake him down about the trip.”
“What if it’s not Ko Sai?” Sev was distracted by the fact that Boss wasn’t joining in. “I suppose we start over from Aquaris, if the informant was telling us the truth.”
“We’ll pay him a visit if his memory needs help.” Scorch rolled his eyes. “How many Kaminoans do you think go wandering around the Outer Rim, Sev?”
Boss interrupted. “I hate to ruin your travel plans, gentlemen, but this is a busier freight lane than anyone has a reason to expect. Check out the joker who’s tailgating us.”
All four commandos squeezed forward to stare at the rectenna screen. There was a small, fast vessel right up their tail, so close that if they’d vented their waste tank it would have spattered the viewscreen. It wasn’t the kind of thing that bad pilots did. It was what someone in pursuit did.
“It’s a big galaxy,” said Sev, pulling on his helmet and sealing the collar for vacuum. He felt his stomach tighten and his pulse pounding in his throat. “He could overtake…”
Scorch helmeted up, too. “Maybe he wants your auto-graph.”
Boss commed back to base. The sensors showed that the vessel’s weapons were charging, and the transponder trace read UNKNOWN.
The cannon round that shaved past their port side was definitely known, though. It had trouble written all over it.
Chapter 7
Master Windu, I respect clone troopers as much as any Jedi, and perhaps even more in some cases. But a certain distance is required from our troops, clone or not. General Secura is becoming a little too close to Commander Bly, and while I applaud her dedication to the men under her command, this can only end in tears.
-Jedi General Arligan Zey, director of special forces, stepping outside his area of responsibility in conversation with Master Mace Windu
Aay’han, laid up on Bogg V, 476 days after Geonosis
Ordo watched a strange tableau unfolding in the crew lounge of Aay’han as he worked on fitting the enhanced weapons in the ship.
While he passed hydrospanners and connectors to Mereel in the engineering section, he kept an eye on Skirata and Vau through the open hatch. He was ready to step in and break up an argument, because Kal’buir’s embarrassed and partial thaw toward his old comrade couldn’t last. The Nulls had grown up with the Skirata-and-Vau act-arguing, bickering, even fighting; the only thing the two had in common most of the time was their armor and their military skill. Skirata thought Vau was a sadistic snob, and Vau saw Skirata as an overemotional, uncultured thug.
But, for now at least, there was a truce. It felt uncomfortable, like borrowing someone else’s clothing. Skirata was trying be polite and grateful, and neither man seemed to know how to handle that. Their stilted conversation had suddenly given way to very focused and intense discussion in voices that Ordo couldn’t quite hear.
He tapped Mereel on the knee. His brother’s legs protruded from the open access duct as he tested power couplings. Aay’han was going to pack a lot more punch when Mereel was finished.