Refugee: Force Heretic II

by Sean Williams

  “Hey, that’s enough,” Malinza said firmly. “Where’s Vyram, Jjorg? I need to talk to him.”

  “He’s lurking about somewhere,” Zel said. “As usual.”

  “I suspect that’s him up in the trees over there,” Jaina said, pointing to where she suspected the fourth person to be hiding.

  A short laugh escaped from the greenery. “You have good eyes, Jedi,” said a voice. “If that is indeed what you’re using.”

  The leaves parted again and the fourth person emerged. He was a rakishly thin, black-haired male who was perhaps a little older than Jaina. His cheekbones were prominent even beneath a patchy beard, and his movements were sure in the treetop.

  “I’ve learned not to rely on my eyes alone,” she responded.

  The man Malinza had described as the brains of Freedom smiled faintly. “Well, you come here with Malinza,” he said. “That’s enough for me, at the moment.”

  Jaina practically felt the spark that passed between the young woman at her side and the black-haired man in the tree, but neither of them openly acknowledged any connection other than professional.

  “Take it down, Zel, so we can come aboard,” Malinza said. “I’m getting tired of calling out to you from down here.” The scruffy-haired human disappeared into the foliage. Jaina was shepherded toward a nearby stairwell, and as she descended, she experienced a momentary giddiness. The strange sensation caused her to stop and grab hold of something to steady herself—and it was then that she realized that the forest she was standing in wasn’t what it appeared to be. The entire area was an artificial construct draped with vines and other plants, suspended in midair on a bed of Bakura’s ubiquitous repulsors so a casual glance would miss it completely. She wondered if it was an existing structure that Freedom had found and occupied, or one they had slowly built up so as not to attract attention. From this distance, there was no real way of telling.

  By the time she and Malinza reached the ground floor, the base of the structure was at arm’s length above their heads. It wasn’t a particularly elegant arrangement, resembling nothing more than several large, rectangular freight containers joined and surrounded by numerous layers of scaffold tubing and heavy cables, with pots and lattices for the plants covering it, but it did make for an effective disguise. Jaina glimpsed dark spaces within, and ladders leading higher up still.

  Malinza reached up to grab one of the horizontal bars hanging over them and hauled herself into the dense canopy. Clipping her lightsaber onto her belt, Jaina did the same. With a groan, the structure ascended back to its original position, leaving the floor some distance below.

  Jjorg and Salkeli, the Rodian, were at the entrance to the lowest container and helped Malinza inside. No such assistance was offered to Jaina; she had to manage by herself—which she did without difficulty. Vyram was waiting inside the container, seated in a corner on a packing crate.

  “Welcome to the Stack,” he said to Jaina with a sweep of his arm to take in his surroundings. “It’s not much, but it’s all we have, I’m afraid.”

  “Where are the others?” Malinza asked him.

  “Scattered about,” he replied. “Or out on patrol.” His dark eyes glistened in a faint electrical light. “Things have been … difficult.”

  “Your arrest really had us worried,” Salkeli said.

  “Not me, though,” Zel said, dropping into the container through a hole in the roof. “I’m cool.”

  “Yeah,” Jjorg scoffed. “About as cool as a red dwarf.”

  Malinza ignored both of them. “I’m sure the others will come back when word spreads that I’m out.”

  “And I presume this one had something to do with your escape,” Salkeli said.

  “Jaina? Actually, I’d assumed it was you, Vyram.”

  The black-haired man shook his head. “I tried, but the defenses were way too tight. I was going to have another go at it tomorrow, when everyone’s attention was on the consecration.”

  Malinza frowned. “If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”

  “One of the other groups, perhaps,” Vyram said. He shrugged. “Or someone on the inside. A sympathetic guard, maybe.”

  “Or someone sympathetic higher up, perhaps,” Jaina mused.

  “How do you mean?” Malinza asked.

  “Cundertol didn’t believe you were guilty,” Jaina answered. “So if you were framed and there was nothing official he could do about it, maybe he decided to at least try to make escape easier for you.”

  “The Prime Minister?” Zel looked more unnerved than he was before. He used a short laugh to hide it. “No way! That would just be too bizarre.”

  “It’s not important right now,” Vyram said. “I’m just glad that we have you back.”

  Again Jaina sensed a surge of something more than just respect between Vyram and the young leader of Freedom. “She’s not out of the woods yet,” she said. “Remember, Malinza is still a fugitive—regardless of who helped her. She’ll have to stay hidden until we can find out who really kidnapped Cundertol.”

  “I’ve been digging around,” Vyram said, “but none of the data I’ve come across has revealed any clues.”

  “Would it be possible for me to see that data?” Jaina asked.

  The young man glanced uncertainly at Malinza, who nodded. “Come on, then,” he said, standing. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights, though. My workshop’s at the very top of the Stack.”

  “I’m sure I can handle myself.”

  With a crooked smile, Vyram hauled himself up through the hole in the container, and Jaina and the others followed. From there it was up ladders and through other boxy room-spaces for another fifteen meters to the very apex of the interior jungle, where Vyram’s workspace balanced on top of the rebel heap. Jaina had no doubts that the Stack was structurally sound, otherwise Freedom wouldn’t have used it as a base in the first place, but her instincts were telling her otherwise. Any sudden movements made the upper reaches sway unnervingly.

  “Pull up a seat,” he said, indicating a pile of empty crates in one corner. His own seat looked a lot more comfortable, consisting of a floating orthopedically designed chair positioned in front of a complex array of computer screens and keyboards, many of them also levitated by repulsors. Jaina pulled up a crate, closely followed by Malinza, Zel, and Jjorg. The green-skinned Salkeli remained standing.

  Vyram brought the system to life. “I know it’s not much, but …”

  “Given your circumstances,” Jaina said, “I’m quite impressed.” She noted insect fibers in the corner of the crate, and what appeared to be a bird’s nest under a desk. “You’re actually patched into the planetary network from here?”

  “Not permanently. We’ve a holocomm up on the roof, but we only use it when we need direct access. It’s less risky to get a link-up, take what we want, then trawl through it afterward to see if we can find something interesting. That’s what the system’s doing at the moment. Comm scanners flag anything that looks vaguely suspicious for me to check out later. If I need to, I go back in to find more.”

  That made sense, Jaina thought. Illegal nodes on any network were difficult to trace, even if suspicions were aroused, but it wasn’t impossible. Accessing the planetary network irregularly would certainly make it more difficult for anyone to pin down Freedom.

  “What have you found so far?” she asked. “Malinza told me that you’ve uncovered evidence of corruption at a Senatorial level. You’d be naive to think that this is anything remarkable. Every government I’ve ever seen suffers from that to some degree or another—including my own.”

  Vyram nodded. “That’s why we oppose the government we have. There has to be a strong opposition to keep the Senate and Prime Minister honest. They might try to shut us down, but we need to be here for the Bakuran people. We’re the planet’s conscience.”

  “You keep things in Balance,” Jaina said.

  Malinza smiled. “Exactly.”

  “But how do you finance yourselve
s?” she asked again. “I can’t imagine any of this setup would have been cheap.”

  “You’d be surprised.” Vyram’s smile was full of pride. “The equipment is actually secondhand or on loan, and the Stack was here already. We just adapted what we found to our needs. It’s a better strategy than becoming indebted to people, don’t you think?”

  “Our allies today could be our enemies tomorrow,” Malinza agreed. “You see, we’re not naive, Jaina. The only way to be truly objective is to stay independent.”

  “I admire your efforts,” Jaina said, speaking with absolute honesty. She might not have agreed with Freedom’s goals or methods, but the fact that its members had managed to stay out of serious trouble for so long was in itself a remarkable feat. “But something has changed. The obvious question is: what?”

  “The only thing we can think of is this.” Vyram’s hands flickered across the keyboards as he accessed encrypted memory. “We uncovered a secret leak of government funds through several intermediaries. The amounts were all different and the payments weren’t regular, but our software was sophisticated enough to spot and flag them.”

  “Where did the money leak to?”

  Vyram shook his head. “There’s no information about that at this end; whoever set up the leak was careful in that respect. Barely had we begun to dig when the communications blackout came down on us.”

  Jaina had heard about the infamous cluster over the years, but her own knowledge was scant. Aunt Mara had entertained a younger Jaina with stories of adventures in the cluster with Talon Karrde—tales of pirates and outlaws and renegades. If only a small percentage of the stories she’d heard were true, then she had no doubt that there were probably many places within the cluster that would be more than happy to take credits from Bakura—whether it was stolen government money or not.

  “So you think this led to Malinza being arrested?” she asked.

  “What else could it be?” Vyram replied. “Nothing else we’ve found is as big as this. I mean, we’re talking millions of credits here. It has to be someone in government behind it, because no one else would have the codes needed to access those funds and set up the system of automatic payments from within. If word got out, the scandal would be huge.”

  “We’re guessing we tripped something when we sliced the data,” Malinza said. “There would be safeguards against detection. The person behind this must have realized that we noticed the leaky funds. They acted immediately, before we put together a strong enough case to go public. At the moment, we have no idea who’s behind it, or why.”

  Vyram nodded glumly. “It comes down to our word against the government—and following Malinza’s arrest, our word isn’t looking so good anymore.”

  “So you need a suspect,” Jaina said, thinking quickly. “Someone high up in the government. High enough to set the payments in place and to order the fake arrest.”

  “Such as?”

  “What about Blaine Harris?” she suggested. “He’s the one who told us about Malinza’s arrest. And he’s certainly in the right spot to do everything else.”

  Malinza and Vyram exchanged a look that Jaina couldn’t interpret. Then Malinza shrugged. “It’s possible.”

  “I can have a closer look at his records,” Vyram said, hands moving again across his equipment. “Let me patch into the network and I’ll see if we can find something on him.”

  This took Jaina back a little. “You’ve sliced into the Deputy Prime Minister’s private files?”

  Vyram smiled fleetingly up at her. “Give me a minute and I will have.”

  Jaina looked on as Vyram closed the documents he had opened for her and set new programs running. His fingers were quick and confident as he prepared the Stack’s system for connection to the Bakura’s planetary network. Jaina wasn’t the only one admiring his skill, either. Malinza’s face was practically glowing with admiration as he worked. This quickly turned to concern, however, when a series of warning bleeps issued from the board before them.

  Vyram frowned.

  “Problem?” Jaina asked.

  “I can’t establish a link.” He tried something else, but received the same warning bleeps in response. “There seems to be some sort of interference.”

  “Jamming?”

  “I don’t think so. More likely it’s a nearby signal swamping the microwave feed from the satellite. Let me see if I can tap into it.” Data flashed across the screens as he switched rapidly from one program to another. “Here, listen.”

  A regular bleeping began to pulse from the network’s speakers.

  “I know that sound,” Zel said from behind them. “That’s a homing beacon!”

  The dynamic inside the Stack instantly changed, with everyone suddenly rising to their feet and facing Jaina.

  “So that’s why my escape was so easy,” Malinza said, advancing a pace.

  “Wait a minute!” Jaina protested, but was quickly shouted down by Salkeli.

  “You led them right to us!”

  “She’s a spy!” Jjorg said, advancing on Jaina. “I say we kill her!”

  “Hold on,” Vyram said, fiddling with the array of computers and adjusting a directional antenna. “She isn’t the source of the transmission.”

  “What?” Jjorg stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Vyram. “Then where’s it coming from?”

  Vyram pointed at Malinza.

  “Me?” The rebel leader’s face went pale.

  Vyram checked the computers. “I’m afraid so, Malinza. The signal is strongest where you’re standing.”

  The others were staring at their leader with stunned expressions, unsure how to react. Even Vyram seemed frozen by indecision.

  “Can we narrow down the location of the beacon?” Jaina asked. “Maybe we can remove it before they home in.”

  Vyram adjusted the antenna and passed it over Malinza’s body. The program’s bleeping went up in pitch as it passed her midriff. She lifted her prison tunic to expose the waistline of her pants. There, embedded between two lines of stitching, was a tiny bump in the fabric.

  “They’ve had a bead on you the whole time.” Zel’s eyes darted around him, staring wildly at the walls of the container—almost as if through them he could see security guards converging on the Stack. “They could be here right now!”

  “Get a grip,” Jjorg said in a manner that suggested his panic offended her. “We have perimeter alarms, don’t we? They couldn’t get anywhere near the place without us knowing.”

  “Why now?” Salkeli asked.

  Jjorg turned to him. “What do you mean?”

  “They could’ve planted something on Mali like this months ago,” he said. “So why now?”

  “Because she’s an escapee now,” Vyram said. “And we’re aiding and abetting her. They’re clear-cut criminal charges, not something as gray as slicing.”

  Malinza stood. “They’re only clear-cut if my original charge isn’t a fake,” she said. “Which it is.”

  “Either way,” Jaina said, “we’re going to have to get out of here.”

  “Running will only make us look guilty,” the Rodian said.

  “I agree with the Jedi,” Zel said. “Staying here will get us caught.”

  A fierce buzzing from the computer system suddenly filled the room. All eyes turned to Vyram at the computer console for an explanation.

  His expression was grim. “That’s the perimeter alarm.”

  “I knew it!” Zel shouted, nervously pacing the confined space. “I just knew it!”

  “Shut it, Zel!” Malinza snapped. Then, more calmly, she turned to Vyram and asked, “Which one is it?”

  “North-Fourteen and South-Seven. They’re coming in from both sides.”

  “Air?”

  “Not as yet.”

  “Good.” Malinza turned to the others. She no longer looked the frightened teenager; now she appeared every bit the leader of a covert group under threat. “I’m open to any suggestions at this time.”

&nb
sp; “Why not let the Jedi fight for us?” Zel said, his expression just a little too eager and manic for Jaina’s liking. “She could easily take on—”

  “No!” Malinza said sharply. Zel fell instantly silent. “There’ll be no fighting. You know that I will never approve of violence.”

  “We might not have a choice, Malinza,” Jjorg said.

  “No, there is an alternative,” Jaina said. “You could remove the bug and give it to me. I could take it elsewhere, to throw them off your scent.”

  “Isn’t it a bit late for that?” Jjorg said. “They’re right outside!”

  Jaina resisted the urge to snap back. Although Vyram had proved that she was not responsible for having led the enemy to the Stack, she still felt as though everyone was blaming her for the situation they were in.

  “They’re not here yet, though,” Vyram said, looking thoughtful.

  “Yeah, but they’re not stupid, either,” Jjorg said. “They’ll know when they’re being duped.”

  “Not if we present them with many variables at once. We’ve had a distraction in place for some time, just in case a day should come when they’d find us.” He took a deep breath and looked at Malinza. “I’d say that day has arrived, wouldn’t you?”

  Malinza nodded, then hastily tore the bug from her waistband and handed it to Jaina.

  “They’re getting closer,” the young leader said, glancing at the screens as another siren went off. “I’d hurry, if I were you.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Salkeli said. “I know the streets better than you do.”

  Jaina hesitated briefly, then relented with a nod. She couldn’t deny that what the Rodian said made sense. “Okay,” she said. Then, to Malinza, she asked, “Will you at least tell me where you’re going?”

  “I think it would be best if you didn’t know.” The girl extended a hand; Jaina took it and shook. “We’ll meet again, though, I’m sure.”

  Jaina just nodded. There wasn’t time for long farewells.

  “After you,” she said to Salkeli, and the Rodian dropped feet first out of the container.

  * * *

  The work in the library was a painstaking process, and after so many hours poring over books, Saba was beginning to feel fatigue pressing at the stiff muscles beneath her itchy scales. Thankfully, though, there were enough allusions to a wandering planet in the innumerable cultures to keep everyone optimistic. After Danni had found the first reference, Saba had quickly discovered two more, and shortly after that Jacen had found yet another. Since then, as the trail grew warm, appearances came at a regular rate. When what they thought was Zonama Sekot had passed near a relatively civilized world, they were able to pin down its appearance with precise dates; otherwise they were able to guess, based on more or less inaccurate records and physical evidence. Luckily, Saba thought, they weren’t chasing an event that had happened centuries ago. In many cases, witnesses were still alive to relate to the Chiss contact teams their firsthand experience of the “Coming of the New Star,” or the “Dawning of the Death Sun,” or whatever else it happened to be called. From these recollections, along with more recent surveys of every system in the Chiss’s domain, they gradually began to reconstruct the planet’s movements.