Siege Page 25

  And then, of course, there were the security issues.

  Stuck on Bonadan, she’d missed the first round of security briefings. She’d be playing catch-up now for as long as this crisis lasted—and the handful of colleagues who resented her prominence, who thought Palpatine played favorites with her, who thought a woman from a nothing little planet like Naboo had no place in the senatorial spotlight, well, they’d be doing their best to see she was kept offstage.

  Egotist glassblowers and their artistic temperaments. I’m going to throw a fancy vase at the next one I see. And as for my charming colleagues…

  Well, they could try to keep her sidelined—but they’d fail.

  By the time she’d finished wading through the messages and comms, setting more than a few people straight on their facts and reaching out to a couple of her own very private contacts to confirm or deny the first trickles of intel from Hanna City, nearly three hours had passed and she’d brewed herself a headache bigger than the Kaliida Nebula. Not even a fresh pot of caf and a blocker could kill it.

  Then Bail returned to his office, pale with temper and stress and his own enormous headache.

  “Padmé,” he said, finding a smile for her. “Sorry. Minala pinged me on the comlink to let me know you were here but I couldn’t comm you and I couldn’t leave the briefing and they wouldn’t halt it so you could join us. Things were moving too fast.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’ve been getting caught up. How’s Mon Mothma? I’ve tried to reach her a few times but her comlink is diverted.”

  “She’s… strong,” Bail said, after a moment. “She’ll see her people through this.” He glanced at his office chrono. “She should be back on Chandrila by now.”

  Chandrila. Feeling suddenly helpless, Padmé stared at him. “This last briefing—are we any closer to working out how Dooku managed to pull this off?”

  “A not-very-pretty picture is starting to emerge, yes,” he said. “It appears the weapon was incorporated into some mobile security cams. Of course nobody looked twice at them—the blasted things are everywhere these days.”

  “Security cams?” she echoed. “Supplied by whom?”

  “Shield Securities.”

  “Shield? But—Bail, they’ve got contracts with nearly every Core Worlds government, not to mention—”

  “Alderaan.” He grimaced. “I know.”

  “And Coruscant!” Feeling ill, caf churning in her stomach, Padmé took a deep breath. “They cover almost half of the major residential annexes, six retail precincts, and the Bonchaka, Neldiz, and F’tu manufacturing districts. And aren’t they bidding on the GAR docks complex?”

  “They were,” said Bail. “The entire bidding process has been suspended, pending review.”

  The ramifications were almost overwhelming. “So—are we saying Shield itself has been compromised? At the highest levels? Or is this a case of Separatist infiltration into a couple of key company areas?”

  Bail shrugged. “Nobody knows—but that’s where the investigation’s focused now. Shield is eagerly helping us with our inquiries.”

  “It’s a double strike, isn’t it?” Padmé murmured, torn between revulsion and a grudging admiration for the Separatists’ tactics. “We’re hit by this filthy bioweapon and by having to investigate not only Shield, but every last mobile spycam in operation. Because if the Seps have infiltrated Shield, then who else have they compromised? And that’s not something we’ll be able to keep quiet. Which means there’ll be more fear, more unrest, more erosion of trust in our ability to keep people safe.” She flattened her hands to her face for a moment, then lowered them to stare at Bail. “Stang.”

  “I know it looks bad,” said Bail, dropping into his own visitor’s chair. “It is bad. But I can’t help wondering if Dooku hasn’t miscalculated. He had to have known we’d work out the weapon’s delivery system and take steps. So why waste the element of surprise on only one attack? Why not launch a simultaneous series of assaults on every Core World where Shield has a presence? If our good Count really wanted to bring the Republic to its knees, then that’s what he should’ve done.”

  Padmé sat back in her chair. “I don’t know whether I should be impressed or terrified by how you think, Senator Organa. You’re right. This attack is a pinprick compared with the kind of grandiose plans of annihilation we’ve caught Dooku hatching before. So maybe it wasn’t Dooku. Maybe our old friend Lok Durd has an itchy trigger finger.”

  Frowning, Bail considered that. “You think he might be trying to prove himself to his master?”

  “I think it’s a possibility,” she said slowly. “I mean, thanks to Anakin and Obi-Wan there’s every chance he knows we’ve found out what he’s been planning. Letting two Jedi get so close to him—he has to be desperate to make up for that blunder.”

  Anakin.

  She felt a familiar, unwelcome twist in her belly. “By the way… Bail… have you heard—”

  “Sorry,” Bail said. “No. But the Temple’s listening for them. If they so much as hiccup in our direction the Jedi will hear it—and they’ll tell us.”

  He knew her so well. Too well. He’d figured it out, her terrible secret. And yet she wasn’t frightened by that. He’d never betray her. She could come right out and tell him and he’d never say a word. Not that she would. Telling him would be unfair. Besides, Anakin would never agree to it.

  Bail was drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, thinking. “You know, if you’re right about this, then maybe it’ll play to our advantage.”

  “With the battle group?” she said. “Yes. Maybe. If Durd and his people on Lanteeb are panicked, they’re more likely to have further lapses in judgment. And speaking of the battle group—how big will it be? And who’s in command?”

  “Admiral Yularen. He’s the most seasoned commander we have available right now. The repairs on Indomitable are being fast-tracked, and as soon as she’s declared spaceworthy she’ll be joined by Pioneer and Coruscant Sky and they’ll head best speed for Lanteeb.”

  Dismayed, Padmé stared. “Only three ships? To retake an entire planet? Bail, even if Durd and his people are in disarray that’s not—”

  “You think I don’t know that?” he said, shoving out of his chair to pace. One hand kneaded the back of his neck. “Trust me, I know it—but we’re trying to cover too many hot spots in the Mid and Outer Rims as it is. That’s why we have to wait for Indomitable and the rest of Yularen’s battle group. Pulling ships from any one of our other engagements will almost guarantee us a new defeat. We can’t afford it.”

  “But what about—”

  “Oh, I argued myself blue in the face to get Master Windu and Dagger redeployed,” Bail said grimly, “but Palpatine won’t hear of them leaving Kothlis, even though the situation there is well under control. It’s hoped the element of surprise will be on our side. Provided Yularen ships out in the next couple of days there’s a good chance his people will reach Lanteeb before the Seps have a chance to get organized against us.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?” she said, her heart hammering.

  Bail halted before his office window and glared at the endless Coruscant traffic. “Then we pull Dominator away from patrolling near Kalarba and keep our fingers crossed we don’t lose the planet to Dooku.”

  “Four ships still won’t be enough,” she protested. “We’ll need more firepower than that. We’ll need—”

  “What we need,” he snapped, turning, “is a solution to this debilitating comms crisis but the last time I checked my pockets, they were empty. How about yours?”

  Oh, the communications crisis. Half of her banked-up messages had been about the perpetually unrolling series of viruses crippling the GAR fleet. Just as they unraveled one, another popped up to take its place. Whoever had designed the offensive was a genius.

  Padmé braced her elbows on Bail’s desk. “This is ridiculous. We’re letting Dooku and his minions dictate the terms of our response. So the
GAR Fleet’s hamstrung because of this virus problem? Fine. Then it’s hamstrung—and we look for another way.”

  “What other way?” said Bail, scowling. “There isn’t one. We can’t snap our fingers and produce virus-free ships out of thin air!”

  She smiled at him, slowly, as a small flame of an idea flickered deep in her mind. “Not out of thin air, no. But that doesn’t mean we can’t produce them from somewhere else.”

  “What? What are you—” And then he saw, as he so frequently did, what she was thinking. “Padmé…” he breathed. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious,” she said. “It might not work. We might not even need to do it, if you’re right and Yularen can liberate Lanteeb with three ships. But if he can’t then I say we have to try.”

  Bail was shaking his head. “Padmé, you’re crazy. Raise our own fleet?”

  “Why not? It isn’t illegal.”

  “No, but it’s highly unorthodox!” he retorted. “Besides, it’ll never work. The sheer time it’d take to get a special Senate session convened—to get consensus and waivers and—”

  “Who said anything about going through official channels?” she asked. “That would bog us down in a bureaucratic morass. No. We’ll have to work back-channels on this one, Bail. We’ll have to pull every last string we can lay our hands on. Call in all our favors and put ourselves deeply into debt. But after Chandrila? I can’t believe we won’t find a few people to help us. Out of self-preservation, if nothing else.”

  Bail slumped against the transparisteel window. “What about Palpatine?”

  “He stays in the dark,” she said promptly. “Even mentioning the idea to him would ruin any hope for plausible deniability and it’d put him in an untenable position. No. We leave the Supreme Chancellor out of it. And we don’t approach anyone as senators or as members of the Security Committee, either. At least, not unless we absolutely have to.”

  He was almost laughing. “Then how do you expect to convince a single government to supply us with so much as one armed ship to help liberate Lanteeb?”

  “I’m not only thinking of governments,” she said. “Off the top of my head I can name five private corporations with their own fleets of armed escort ships. Five companies that stand to lose millions if the threat of this bioweapon isn’t eliminated. You think they won’t agree if it means saving that kind of money?”

  “Well—probably they would, yes, but—” Bail raked his fingers through his short hair. “Padmé, what kind of a message will that send? We can say we’re not acting as senators but unless we resign we are senators and—”

  “I honestly couldn’t care less about political messages,” she snapped. “Not when billions of lives are on the line. But if we have to have a message, then how about this? It’s past time we stopped looking to the Senate to solve all our problems. We’re in this mess partly because we’ve surrendered our consciences and our independence to an endless parade of self-serving government committees. We need action, not more talking. And we have a duty—a moral obligation—to keep one another safe. To look out for the weakest and most helpless among us. This Republic belongs to everyone and we all have to do what we can to preserve it.”

  “Stang, Padmé.” Bail sighed. “Look. I’m not saying you’re wrong. But I’m not sure you grasp the enormity of what you’re suggesting.”

  “Believe me, I do,” she said. “But I’m not going to let it intimidate me. This is too important. Bail Organa, next to me you’re the most persuasive person I know. You’re high profile, you’re respected and you know people who know people who know people, from the highest to the lowest levels of government and private enterprise on every planet that matters in the Republic. And I’ve made a few interesting connections myself in the last few years. Between us we can do this. We can put together a civilian fleet to back up Yularen’s battle group if they need it.”

  Shaking his head again, Bail returned to his chair. “I must be coming down with something, because I’m starting to believe you. Are you quite certain you’re not a Jedi playing mind tricks?”

  She laughed. “Don’t be silly. I’m just a woman who doesn’t like taking no for an answer.”

  “All right.” He thought for a moment. “Let’s say for the sake of argument I agree with this mad plan. When do you suggest we start making overtures?”

  According to the chrono on his desk it was nearly midnight. He was exhausted and so was she. “As soon as possible,” she said. “In and around whatever meetings and briefings and Senate sessions that get called. Be at my apartment no later than oh-seven-hundred tomorrow and over breakfast we can draw up a preliminary list of preferred first-round contacts. Once that’s done we’ll split the names and get started.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he said, wondering. “You really think we can do this.”

  Abruptly her adrenaline rush faded, leaving her shaky and all too aware of the stakes. “I think we have to try,” she said, and heard the break in her voice. “For the people who died today. For the people who’ll die if we don’t stop Lok Durd. For Anakin and Obi-Wan. Because we have to get them back, Bail. We can’t leave them to rot on that planet.”

  Somber, he looked at her. “No. We can’t.” And then he smiled, rueful and resigned and warmly affectionate. “So it’s Padmé to the rescue again. I’m starting to think this Republic will fall apart without you.”

  There was an electropen on his desk. She threw it at him. “Ha. Now let’s get out of here, shall we? We’ve got an early start and a lot of work to do.”

  AHSOKA STARED AT MASTER YODA, her heart thudding. “Just me, Master? But—what about Tar—I mean, Master Damsin? I’ve got some experience now, but I’m still only a Padawan.”

  Master Yoda tapped his gimer stick to the Jedi Council Chamber floor. It seemed extra large and echoey with only the two of them in it. “Duties elsewhere does Master Damsin have, Padawan. With her fate concerned you should not be. Your business her doings are not.”

  He probably meant Taria wasn’t well enough to join the battle group. She should’ve realized that. Chastened, she dropped her gaze. “Yes, Master. Sorry.”

  “Alone to Lanteeb with the battle group you will travel, Padawan,” said Yoda. “Join you there at least one Jedi Master will. Together you will lead the clones, if foolish the Separatists are and refuse to surrender control of the planet they do.”

  Ahsoka nodded. “Yes, Master. Master, do you know who—”

  “Decided yet that is not,” said Yoda. “Matter to you it should not, Padawan.”

  Blast, nothing she said was coming out the way she meant it. Or could it be that Yoda was worried? She didn’t dare try to read him. But just looking at him, hearing the thread of tension in his voice…

  He is worried. I know he is. There’s so much at stake. And Skyguy and Master Kenobi are still missing.

  “Padawan,” said Yoda, his voice gentler. “Good reports of you have I had. Your leadership in the new dojo team challenges—impressive that is. Ready you are for greater responsibilities.”

  He knew about that? She and Taria had held another eight team challenges since the first one, that they’d held on a whim. Now there was a waiting list of younglings who wanted to take part. They’d had to go on rotation. She’d even held a couple of training sessions by herself, passing on what she’d learned the hard way on the war’s front line. And Master Yoda knew?

  Well, of course he knows. Master Yoda knows everything.

  “Master, I’m honored you think I’m doing good work, but—do you really think I’m ready?”

  “Commendable your humility is, Padawan,” said Yoda, his fathomless eyes warm. “Asked to do more than you can do, you will not be. To the GAR barracks you should go now. A troop carrier to Indomitable soon will take you and Torrent Company. To Admiral Yularen you will listen, Padawan, until join you a Jedi Master does.”

  Ahsoka nodded vigorously. “Yes, Master Yoda. Thank you, Master. I won’t
let you down.”

  “Know that I do, Padawan. Dismissed, you are.”

  So she was going to Lanteeb, to liberate the planet and thwart Lok Durd and rescue Skyguy and Master Kenobi.

  All in a day’s work. Maybe a day-and-a-half.

  She couldn’t leave the Temple without bidding Taria a swift farewell. She found the Jedi Master in the arboretum, working through some meditation-in-movement exercises.

  “Ahsoka,” said Taria, without opening her eyes. She was dressed in one of her customary dark bodysuits, and for once her long hair was unbraided, spreading in a bluish-green shimmer down her back. She stood poised on her left leg, the right pulled up behind her with both hands wrapped around her ankle, the flat of her foot resting softly against her head. Her breathing was deep and slow, no strain in her at all. “You’re leaving.”

  One of these days I’ll be able to read the Force that easily. “Yes. For Lanteeb.”

  Taria opened her eyes. A golden glow shone in their tawny depths. “Not alone, though.”

  “With a battle group. It’s—it’s not common knowledge, Taria.”

  “In other words,” said Taria, grinning, “I should keep my mouth shut?” She released her right ankle, then bent herself in half, palms pressed flat to the grass. Her hair pooled and puddled before her like a summer lake. “Don’t worry. I won’t breathe a word.”

  “I’m sorry to leave you with the team challenge unfinished.”

  Taria wrapped her arms around her calves and pressed her hidden face to her knees. “No, you’re not. You’re going to rescue your Skyguy and Obi-Wan. You’re thrilled, Ahsoka Tano. Don’t try to deny it.”

  Yes, she was thrilled. But she felt guilty too, because Taria cared as much as she did. “I wish you were coming,” she said. “They’re sending a Master to join me. I don’t know who. But I wish it was you.”

  Supple as growing green tapi-wheat, Taria straightened. “So do I, Ahsoka. But my feet tread a different path. Go to Lanteeb. Pluck our friends from danger. And perhaps we’ll continue our team challenges when you return. I want to give you the chance to draw even.”