Star Wars - Jade Solitaire - Unpublished Read online

  “Interesting,” Praysh said, leaning back in his throne and regarding Mara with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “Hardly the sort of thing a slave sent by the Mrahash of Kvabja should be expected to have.”

  He shrugged elaborately. “But of course, that’s an irrelevant comment, isn’t it? Given that you weren’t sent by the Mrahash of Kvabja.”

  Mara felt her throat tighten. Bardrin had assured her that the Mrahash was currently out of the sector, and that there was no way Praysh could checkout her cover story. “Of course he sent me,” she said, stretching out to the alien’s mind, trying to figure out if this was some kind of trick.

  “Spare me your lies,” Praysh said, his voice suddenly harsh. And no, there was no trickery in his thoughts. “I have a communication from the Mrahash himself, saying he’s never heard of you. In fact, I was just about to send for you when you made your pitiful escape effort.”

  “I told you Daddy would try to force you to leave without me,” Sansia murmured.

  A whip cracked from the side, and Sansia jerked, inhaling sharply in pain. Mara glanced at her, saw the bright streak of blood across her cheek. “If you have something to say, you will say it to me,” Praysh said coldly. “And you will start by telling me who you are and exactly why you’re here.”

  “And If I don’t?” Mara asked.

  Praysh’s gaze shifted to Sansia. “We’ll start the persuasion with your friend here I don’t think you want to hear the details.”

  Mara looked around the room, searching for a chink—any chink—in Praysh’s defenses. But there wasn’t one. About all she could do now is refuse to talk and hope there would be fewer guards to deal with in whatever torture chamber they took her and Sansia to.

  Unless they didn’t plan to let her watch. Or, worse, let her watch on a monitor from a different location entirely. That would mean letting them put Sansia under a knife…

  A quarter of the way across the room, one of the guards at the chamber’s main entrance door abruptly stepped forward, a comlink in his hand. “Your First Greatness, a word if I may,” he called toward the throne. “I’ve just received word that there is new evidence of who this spy is.”

  “Excellent,” Praysh said, swiveling his throne around to face that direction. “Bring it to me.”

  The guard spoke into the comlink, and the door opened to reveal two more Drach’nam and H’sishi, the Togorian scavenger Mara had met briefly outside the palace wall. Clutched in H’sishi’s hands was a section of the packing cylinder Bardrin’s floater globe had been in.

  The section that had had Mara’s lightsaber concealed in it.

  Mara clenched her hands tightly as the trio marched through the assembled guards toward the throne. Any chance she and Sansia might have of escaping was going to depend heavily on the fact that Praysh didn’t know about her Force abilities. If H’sishi showed the lightsaber to him, that advantage would vanish in that same heartbeat. She had to make her move before that happened.

  But there was still no chance. A Drach’nam on either side of her, more of them crowding the room, the packing cylinder section too far away for her to rip out the inner lining and get the lightsaber out…

  “Who is this?” Praysh demanded.

  “A scavenger from the street,” one of the guards said. “This is a section of the packing cylinder which the human brought your gift in.” He reached over to take the cylinder section from H’sishi—

  The Togorian pulled it away from him. [It is mine to show,] she hissed. [My discovery. My reward.]

  “Just let her bring it,” Praysh said, gesturing impatiently. “Show me this supposed evidence.”

  Deliberately, Mara thought, H’sishi looked over at the two women. Then, stepping through the inner ring of guards, she held the cylinder section up in front of Praysh. [You see here,] she said, pointing a claw to the bottom. [It is the marking seal of the Uoti Corporate.]

  “What?” Sansia muttered as Praysh leaned close to look, and Mara could sense her sudden confusion and suspicion. If her would-be rescuer was actually from their Uoti competitors instead of from her father—

  “Quiet,” Mara muttered back, frowning in some confusion of her own. There hadn’t been any marking seals on the cylinder—she’d made sure of that. Had the Togorian mixed her cylinder up with some other piece of garbage?

  “That is indeed the Uoti symbol,” Praysh agreed, taking the section from H’sishi and turning his gaze on Mara again. “So that’s what this is all about, is it? Uoti wants their new toys back.”

  Mara didn’t reply, her eyes on H’sishi as she tried to figure out what was going on. But the Togorian’s expression was totally unreadable.

  “Yes, that must be it,” Praysh decided. “And I suppose I should have expected this. I must congratulate you on your speed and efficiency in locating me—it’s been, what, only a week since that particular acquisition?”

  “Yet perhaps the efficiency is only an Illusion, Your First Greatness one,” of the Drach’nam spoke up, eyeing H’sishi suspiciously. “Recall that all the packing from the Uoti acquisition was similarly thrown to the scavengers. This alien could have obtained one of the marking seals and transferred it to this cylinder.”

  “No,” Praysh told him. “The seal has the proper edge engraving carved into the metal around it. It’s genuine.”

  He gave Mara a smile that sent an involuntary shiver down her back. “Besides, why else would a warrior of such skill deliberately step beneath my hand as she has?”

  Mara looked back at H’sishi. The Togorian was gazing back at her now; and as their eyes met, she lifted a hand to casually rub at her neck, stretching her claws a little further from the ends of her fingers as she did so. Was she trying to show Mara how she’d faked the edge engraving? Or was there some other message there? And suddenly, Mara got it.

  “I don’t know what kind of trick this is supposed to be, Your First Greatness,” she called, putting an edge of scorn into her voice. “But it’s a pretty feeble one. I can tell from here that’s not part of the cylinder I brought.”

  Praysh face darkened. “Can you really,” he rumbled. “What remarkably good eyes. Or what a remarkable wretched memory. Perhaps that memory needs some encouragement.”

  [Perhaps a closer look at it would help, Your First Greatness,] H’sishi suggested.

  “I think not,” Praysh bit out. “The preliminary games are over. She’s refused to play.” He glared at Mara. “Your last chance, warrior, to do this the easy way.”

  H’sishi glanced at Mara, her expression suddenly looking stricken. Mara lifted her eyebrows, nodding fractionally toward the cylinder… [May I have the cylinder section back. Your First Greatness?] the Togorian asked.

  “When I’m done with it,” Praysh said shortly, his attention still on Mara. “No? Very well, then. Guards—”

  And abruptly, H’sishi leaped up to the throne in front of him. Slashing her claws across the faces of the two bodyguards flanking Praysh, she snatched the cylinder section from his hands, slammed it across his head hard enough to stun, and reached her hand in to the inner lining. Above the roar of multiple Drach’nam bellows came the screech of tearing metal; and just as the inner ring of guards reached H’sishi and threw themselves on top of her, she flicked her wrist over their heads—

  And Mara’s lightsaber came spinning across the room toward her.

  There was a warning shout from someone; but it was already far too late. Mara grabbed the weapon in an iron Force grip, yanking it through the Drach’nam hands trying to slap it out of the air. “Down!” she barked to Sansia as she caught and ignited the weapon, in the same motion cutting down the two guards flanking her.

  And the entire audience chamber collapsed into pandemonium.

  The nearest of the Drach’nam, too close to use their whips against her, went for their knives instead. They died holding them. Those further back lived a little longer, but not much. With no time to organize, too densely packed together for efficient u
se of their whips, and facing a weapon that could cut through the lashes with ease, they had no chance at all. Mara slashed through their ranks like a mowing machine, littering the rocky ground behind her with their bodies, a haze of righteous fury clouding her vision. Retribution for Sansia and the other degraded women in the slave pits; retribution for piracy and robbery and cold-hearted murder; retribution for the danger they’d put the Wild Karrde’s crew in—

  And suddenly, or so it seemed, it was over.

  She stood in the middle of the room, lightsaber held high, gasping hard with her exertion. All around her were piles of Drach’nam bodies—

  [I would not have believed it.]

  Mara spun around. H’sishi was pressed against the wall behind the throne, staring at Mara with an expression of stunned disbelief, a half dozen oozing wounds scattered across the matted fur of her face and torso. “How badly are you hurt?” Mara called, crossing the room toward her. None of the injuries looked serious, but she wasn’t familiar enough with Togorian physiology to know for sure.

  [Not badly,] H’sishi assured her. [They lost interest in me very quickly.]

  “Lucky for me they did,” Mara said grimly, focusing on the false wall behind H’sishi, the wall containing the two hidden blaster ports she’d spotted on her first trip through the chamber.

  Only now there was a second hole, knife-blade-sized, just beneath each of the ports. And gripped In H’sishi’s hand was an appropriated Drach’nam knife, its blade stained with the pale pink of Drach’nam blood.

  “Thank you,” Mara said, gesturing to the wall. “I wondered why they never fired at me.”

  [They never had time,] H’sishi said simply.

  “I see that. Thank you. What about Praysh?”

  [I believe he escaped,] H’sishi said. [Along with many of his guards. But we must hurry—your companion is already gone.]

  “What?” Mara demanded, looking around again. Sansia was gone, all right. “Did Praysh take her?”

  [No, she left alone, by that door.] H’sishi pointed.

  Heading for her ship, no doubt, all set to take off and leave Mara and H’sishi stranded here. “Blast it,” Mara snarled. “Come on.”

  The corridors, not surprisingly, were deserted. Mara led the way, lightsaber in hand, silently berating herself for not expecting a last-minute back-blading like this in the first place. Like father, like daughter…

  And then, almost before she was ready for it, they pushed open one final door and stumbled into an open courtyard filled with yachts, small freighters, and rows of deadly, spine-winged starfighters. Midway across the yard, a single ship was just lifting off into the air.

  A SoroSuub 3000 luxury yacht

  [Is that her?] H’sishi asked.

  “Yes,” Mara said sourly. Like father, like daughter, all right.

  But there was no time now for the luxury of anger. “We’d better find a way out of here before Praysh gets what’s left of his thugs organized,” she told H’sishi. “Let’s see if any of these other ships are unlocked—”

  She paused, frowning. The yacht, contrary to her expectations, wasn’t heading for the sky as fast as Sansia could push it. Instead, it had moved on repulsorlifts to a hovering position a few meters over the center of the courtyard.

  And even as Mara wondered what in the worlds Sansia was doing, a pair of turbolaser blasts blazed outward from the underside of the craft into one of the parked starfighters, blowing it into a violent yellow fireball.

  H’sishi snarled something Mara didn’t catch over the roar of the flames. Still firing, the yacht swiveled slowly around in a circle, methodically turning the rest of Praysh’s potential pursuit craft into scrap metal. Then, maneuvering across to where Mara and H’sishi stood, it dropped again to the ground and the hatch popped open. “I thought you two would never show up,” Sansia’s voice called impatiently from the direction of the bridge. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  The guards who’d been watching the outside of Bardrin’s mansion during Mara’s first visit were nowhere to be seen as she and Sansia parked their landspeeder and headed inside.

  And, as it turned out, for good reason.

  “Welcome back, Mara,” Karrde said, rising from his chair beside Bardrin’s massive desk as Mara and Sansia entered. He was smiling, but Mara could sense the icy anger simmering beneath the pleasant expression. “Excellent timing, as always. We’ve just secured the mansion, and I was about to start putting together an attack force to come after you.” He half bowed to Sansia. “You must be Sansia Bardrin. Welcome home, as well.”

  “Thank you.” Sansia said, nodding back. “I’m impressed—the people who designed this little fortress for my father claimed it would be impossible for anyone to take it. Not intact, at least.”

  “I had some professional assistance.” Karrde looked at Bardrin, seated in glowering silence behind his desk. “As well as considerable motivation. You may want to explain to your father later that playing games with my people this way is not a way to maintain a long and healthy life.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sansia promised darkly. “He and I have a great deal to talk about. Starting with his willingness to leave me to rot in Praysh’s slime pits as long as he got his precious Winning Gamble back.”

  “You wouldn’t have been there more than another six hours,” Bardrin rumbled. “I already had a team assembled to come in after you.”

  “Through Praysh’s outer defenses?” Sansia snorted. “They’d have been cut to ribbons before they even hit atmosphere.”

  Mara cleared her throat. “Actually, I think you’ll find he’s been even more devious than you thought,” she said, stretching out with the Force to Bardrin’s mind. She had most of the pieces now, but his emotional reactions would help confirm she was putting them together in the right order. “I think he set you up deliberately to be captured by those pirates, knowing they’d send you and the Winning Gamble straight to Praysh.”

  Sansia frowned at her. “You can’t be serious. What would he gain by that?”

  Mara smiled tightly at Bardrin. “Some brand-new, high-tech prototypes Praysh stole from the Uoti Corporate.”

  Bardrin’s expression remained solidly under control, but his guilty mental twitch was all the confirmation Mara needed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled.

  “But continue anyway,” Karrde invited, a sly smile touching his lips. Mara had been with him long enough, she knew, for him to recognize that she never used this tone of voice when she was just guessing. “This is most interesting.”

  Mara looked at Sansia. “You remember that Praysh mentioned it had only been a week since the Uoti theft. Your father heard about it and decided to steal it from them before Uoti could get organized to retrieve it themselves. He knew that when the pirates gave you to Praysh they’d also give him the Winning Gamble; and so he rigged that fancy targeting system you told me about to make a complete sensor recording of Praysh’s defense array on the flight in.”

  Sansia’s face had turned to glazed stone. “Why, you vac-hearted, manipulative nerf belly,” she breathed, her eyes locked on her father’s face like twin turbolasers. “You deliberately put me through that—?”

  “I thought someone of Jade’s skills would have a better chance of getting out alone,” Bardrin cut her off brusquely. “And she would have an easier time getting to the Winning Gamble from Praysh’s audience chamber instead of the slave quarters, which is why I sent that anonymous tip suggesting he contact the Mrahash of Kvabja about the floater globe. Once we had the Winning Gamble and could analyze Praysh’s outer defense array, our private troops could have swept in with ease, rescued you, and destroyed Praysh’s operation in a single blow.”

  “And the Uoti prototypes?”

  Bardrin shrugged. “A small bonus. A reward, if you like, for our civic-mindedness in eliminating a particularly noxious slaver. We are business people, Sansia.”

  He looked significantly at Karrde. “And I taug
ht you better than to vent business disputes in front of outsiders.”

  “Yes, you certainly did.”

  Sansia took a deep breath, then turned to look at Mara. “Whatever he promised to pay you, you deserve more. Name your price.”

  Mara looked coolly at Bardrin. “You can’t afford to pay for what he put me through,” she said. “But I’ll settle for a copy of the Winning Gamble’s tracking record. There’s some serious justice I intend to rain on Praysh’s head, and I don’t think l want to trust your father to do it for me. Civic-minded or not.”

  Sansia threw a malicious smile at Bardrin. “I’ll do better than that. Take the whole ship.”

  “What?” Bardrin leaped to his feet, oblivious to the blaster that had suddenly appeared in Karrde’s hand. “Sansia, you are not going to give my ship to these—these—”

  He sputtered to a halt. Sansia gave the silence a couple more heartbeats, then looked back at Mara. “You already know the access and operating codes,” she continued as if her father hadn’t spoken. “It’s a good ship. Enjoy.”

  “Thank you,” Mara said. “I will.”

  “There’s also the matter of my fee,” Karrde spoke up.

  “What are you talking about?” Bardrin demanded. “She already gave Jade more than—”

  “I’m not talking about payment for your daughter’s rescue.” Karrde cut him off coldly. “I’m referring to my fee for not killing you outright over your kidnapping of my crew.”

  He looked at Sansia. “Unless you’d rather not make such a deal, of course. I can certainly take my fee in blood instead if you prefer.”

  “It is tempting,” Sansia admitted. “But no, I’ll deal with Daddy dear in my own way.” She smiled thinly. “Out of sight of outsiders. What sort of fee do you want?”

  “We’ll work out something later,” Karrde told her, putting his blaster away. I’ll be in touch. Come, Mara. It’s time to get back to clean air again.”