Legacy of the Jedi by Jude Watson

Suddenly the droids ejected smoke grenades from their flanks. Thick, acrid clouds rolled toward them, stinging their eyes. They kept on advancing, their eyes streaming tears.

  Then a voice echoed through the thick smoke. "Please . .."

  It was the girl's voice again. "Stop — please don't shoot. I'm here. I'm standing on the ramp. They made me. Please!" Her begging voice was full of tears and terror. Qui-Gon stopped.

  "Keep fighting!" Dooku snapped. "Don't listen!"

  But Qui-Gon ran ahead and was swallowed up by the smoke. The fool was going to try to save the girl.

  Angrily, Dooku rushed after him, straight into the worst of the cloud. He felt that the voice was a ruse. It had been from the start. Yet Qui-Gon's respect for the living Force would not allow for doubt. If he thought there was a chance that a child was in trouble, he wouldn't hesitate. Curse him and his empathy, Dooku thought, coughing from the smoke.

  He took out the droids as he moved, hearing them before he saw them. The smoke thinned. He could see now that droids littered the ground. He stepped over them. Qui-Gon stood on the ramp, alone. Dooku raced up to join him and together they rushed the ship.

  It was empty. Dooku strode over to the ship console. A recording rod was resting on the pilot's chair. He activated it.

  "Help me, please."

  Dooku shut it off.

  "I'm sorry, Master." Qui-Gon looked stunned, as if he couldn't believe someone would use a child in jeopardy to get what they wanted.

  "Let's go." Dooku vaulted over the pilot's seat and raced down the ramp, hearing Qui-Gon follow behind him.

  Something about the situation nagged at Dooku. In the middle of a mission, he never lost his focus, or his faith that he would prevail. Why did he suddenly feel that failure was breathing on his neck as closely and persistently as Qui-Gon's footsteps behind him?

  Dooku felt his heart fall when he saw that the safe room door was open. The pirate had worked extraordinarily fast. The gleaming durasteel facing was still glowing red from the blast that had blown it open.

  Inside, Eero lay unconscious. His skin was blackened. Qui-Gon bent over him and began to feel for vitals.

  "Not now," Dooku said. He turned and raced back out the door, down another corridor that led to the docking bay. Qui-Gon caught up to him with long strides. The ship lurched, and emergency sirens were now wailing continuously. The systems were failing.

  They raced back to the loading dock. As they entered, they were just in time to see Senator Blix Annon, his hands bound with laser cuffs, being pushed inside the craft. The pirate was tall and lean, dressed in full-body armor and a plastoid helmet that concealed his face. He turned, even though they'd made no sound.

  Accessing the Force, Dooku leaped. He landed on the ramp, lightsaber raised. He felt Qui-Gon land behind him. Blaster fire had already peppered the air, zinging past his ears, close and rapid. The pirate had excellent aim. Dooku had to keep the lightsaber moving in order to deflect the shots, advancing all the while. He had no doubt that he would win this battle. The pirate's eyes gleamed, the green of his iris so intense that Dooku could read it from behind the gray tint of his visor.

  A dark green, shot with glints the color of flames . Dooku's mind lurched.

  The pirate made a half turn to the left and swung out in a wide arc.

  Dooku moved in an instinct so old it was automatic. He stepped away to avoid a blow that did not come. Lorian.

  Did he hear a chuckle from underneath the helmet? Dooku wasn't sure. But Lorian took advantage of that split second of hesitation, as he always had been able to, and jumped backward into the ship. The ramp closed rapidly, spilling Dooku onto the floor. He landed next to Qui-Gon and together they watched the ship roar out of the bay doors.

  CHAPTER No. 10

  I will not think of this now, Dooku told himself. If I think of Lorian, I will lose control.

  The ship was dying. Eero could be dead. The first thing to do was check on him. They ran back to the safe room, where he was struggling to rise.

  "Lay back," Qui-Gon said gently. He folded a cloak and placed it beneath Eero's head.

  Eero's eyes fluttered. "The Senator?"

  "Gone," Dooku said.

  "We have to go after them," Eero said, trying to get to his feet.

  "We have more immediate problems," Dooku said. "The ship is falling apart. And you don't look so well yourself."

  "I'm fine," Eero said. He stood quickly, then immediately crashed to the floor.

  "Obviously," Dooku said dryly. "We'll send someone for you. In the meantime, I have a feeling the pilot needs our help."

  They could feel the cruiser shudder and list to one side as they ran to the cockpit. The pilot was feverishly flipping switches. "I've got the maintenance droid working on the electrical systems, but the sublight is going."

  "Where's the nearest port?" Dooku asked, striding to stand behind the pilot's seat.

  "I'll check," Qui-Gon offered, moving to the onboard computer. In only a few seconds, he called out, "Voltare spaceport." He read out the coordinates. "Master, I can try to work on the sublight mainframe control."

  "Do it." Dooku had no patience for the details of technology. He had already recognized that his apprentice was better at repairs than he.

  "What can I do?" the pilot asked, his eyes darting nervously to the controls.

  "Just keep us flying," Dooku said.

  Qui-Gon released a control panel in the floor and jumped down to work on the system controls. "I think I can fuse it," he called. "If we don't push the engines, we might be able to make it."

  "Push them? I'll baby them," the pilot muttered.

  Qui-Gon vaulted out of the chamber and switched places with the co-pilot. "I'll keep my eye on the warning lights. You just fly," he told the pilot.

  With the white-knuckled pilot gripping the controls and the steady presence of Qui-Gon in the co-pilot's chair, the ship finally limped into the Voltare spaceport.

  Eero was rushed to the med clinic. The other passengers and the pilot headed for the spaceport cantina.

  Dooku and Qui-Gon sat in the cockpit. Qui-Gon kept a respectful silence, realizing that his Master needed time to think.

  At last, Dooku had a chance to consider what he knew.

  Lorian. How could he fall so low? Once a bright Padawan, now a space pirate, preying on Senators he had once been trained to protect.

  Lorian still had Force abilities, which explained the split-second timing of his laser cannon attack. It wasn't as though Dooku could have guessed, but he should have been more alert.

  Enough. Jedi did not waste time on what they should have done.

  What now? A momentary flame of fury burst in Dooku as he thought of his old friend on his ship, laughing at how he'd outmaneuvered him.

  He controlled it. Anger was a waste of time. Action was what he needed.

  Because Lorian could not win.

  "We should contact the Jedi Council," Qui-Gon said.

  Of course they should contact the Council. That was standard procedure. But if they contacted the Council, Dooku would have to tell them that he had no doubt that Lorian Nod was now a space pirate, and had kidnapped Senator Blix Annon right under his nose. That was something that Dooku could not do.

  The Council didn't have to know yet, anyway. What would they do? Merely tell him to proceed. They wouldn't send another Jedi team at this stage. They would trust that Dooku and Qui-Gon could handle it.

  "Master?"

  "Yes, Padawan," Dooku said. "We will contact the Jedi Council. All in good time." What he needed to do was find the Senator before anyone knew he was missing. "But it would be better to contact them when we know where we are going. When it comes to a kidnapping, speed is the most important factor. We are in a position to find the Senator. We must act quickly."

  Dooku remembered from the data file that the pirate usually waited twenty-four hours before releasing his ransom demands.

  His comlink signaled, and he saw that Yoda was tryin
g to contact him. He placed the comlink back in his utility belt. "We should maintain comlink silence from now on," he told Qui-Gon. "All of our energies need to be focused on our search."

  Qui-Gon nodded, his face showing nothing of what he felt. If he thought it was odd to maintain comlink silence, he wouldn't utter a word or even twitch an eyebrow.

  "What's our first step, Master?" he asked. "Until we get a ransom demand, we don't have a place to start."

  "There is always a place to start. Go over the battle in your mind, Qui-Gon. If you examine every detail, you will find at least one clue to follow. Try to remember anything that seemed out of order or doesn't make sense."

  Dooku waited, watching his Padawan. Qui-Gon's gaze was remote. He could tell that his Padawan was looking out at the busy spaceport without seeing it. He was reliving the battle. Dooku already knew what his first step would be. But telling Qui-Gon would not help his Padawan learn. Qui-Gon had an excellent mind. He could analyze data rapidly and organize it to reach a conclusion.

  Dooku had to wait less than a minute.

  "The energy shield failed," Qui-Gon said. "And the armor plating peeled off. If the Senator really used the best security outfitters, that doesn't seem likely. The cannon fire wasn't prolonged enough to explain it."

  "Good," Dooku approved.

  "There must be serious flaws in the ship's armor and shields," Qui-Gon went on. "And they were able to blast through the safe room doors using conventional explosive devices."

  "And what does that tell you?"

  "That the Senator was lying to us, or has been cheated."

  "And was the pirate lucky, or smart?"

  It took Qui-Gon less than a moment to understand. "The pirate worked so fast that he had to be aware of the ship's vulnerabilities."

  "Perhaps. Let's look over the data file again." Dooku reached into his travel pack and extracted the slender holofile. He accessed it and leafed through the reports of previous kidnappings. Qui-Gon read over his shoulder.

  "There's a pattern," he said. "The pilots report malfunctions in security, or failures they can't explain."

  "Nothing catastrophic enough to raise suspicions," Dooku noted. "First of all, the pilots and security officers are too interested in covering up their own failures. And second of all, everyone is focusing on the kidnapping, not how it occurred."

  Dooku knew something else, something he would not share with his Padawan. Lorian took calculated risks. He did not like surprises. It made sense that he would somehow find a way to attack a ship that he already knew had a flawed security system.

  "With all this information, what would your first step be?" he asked Qui-Gon.

  "Find out where the ship was outfitted with its security devices," Qui-Gon said promptly. "Go there and investigate whether there is a connection. It will be difficult without the space pirate's identity, but maybe we'll turn up something." Qui-Gon hesitated. "There is something else. . . . I don't know how to say this."

  "Just say it, Padawan."

  "Something I am picking up from you," Qui-Gon said. "Anger? Something out of proportion to what happened."

  There was that irritating living Force connection again. "You are mistaken, my young apprentice," Dooku snapped. "Let us focus on the matter at hand."

  "Yes, Master."

  Dooku would tell Qui-Gon eventually, but not yet. If Qui-Gon knew that a former Padawan was involved, he would wonder why they weren't contacting the Temple immediately. Dooku wanted Lorian in custody before the Council found out the details. When Dooku's name was spoken throughout the Temple, it would be in the name of glory, not humiliation.

  Pale and weak, Eero's head shake was surprisingly vigorous. "That's impossible," he said. "I myself arranged the security upgrades. I chose the most renowned company for vessel security — Kontag. I have an extensive file on them, I did my research. If you could get me my travel bag —" Eero pointed to a bag resting near his clothes.

  Dooku handed it to him and he extracted a holofile. "Here. Just look. They are experts."

  Dooku flipped through the file. It was a promotional piece that Kontag gave to prospective customers. He saw long lists of clients, and he recognized the names. Descriptions of highly technical systems, images of the factory floor. It was impressive. He himself had heard of Kontag. They were justly renowned for their excellent security systems and were often linked to the Techno Union. He couldn't imagine that there could be sabotage at one of their plants.

  Nevertheless, if something looked wrong, it had to be wrong.

  "Qui-Gon, see if you can look up the histories of the ships that were attacked," he told his Padawan. "They should be in the file."

  Qui-Gon accessed their data holofile and quickly flipped through it. "They were all serviced by Kontag," he said, looking up at Dooku.

  "There has to be a connection," Dooku said.

  Dooku stepped away from Eero's bedside and used his comlink to contact Kontag headquarters. But after questioning a number of officials, he got nowhere. He shut his comlink in disgust.

  "All security information is confidential. I'm not surprised. That's how a company dealing in security has to operate."

  "If they won't tell us what we need to know, what can we do?" Qui-Gon asked.

  Dooku rose smoothly. "They will tell us what we need to know. But they will not know they are doing it."

  CHAPTER No. 11

  It was not far to the planet Pirin in the Locris sector, where the Kontag headquarters and factories were, yet even the few hours it took to get there were too many for Dooku. He had learned long ago how to conceal impatience, but he had not learned how to eliminate it.

  Dooku had time to think on the way to the factory and decided that it would do them no good to demand anything. In his experience, a little subterfuge always worked better than direct confrontation.

  "Do we have a plan, Master?" Qui-Gon asked, breaking the long silence.

  "Follow my lead," Dooku said. "We will pose as prospective clients. The main thing we need to do is get a look at the factory floor. If there is sabotage, perhaps we can pick up something."

  Dooku strode into the company offices. A recording rod flashed a holographic worker, a pretty young female. "Welcome to Kontag," the image said in a musical voice. "Please state your business and make yourself comfortable in our custom-designed seating that can be retrofitted into any cloud car."

  Dooku introduced himself and Qui-Gon and said that the Jedi were interested in a large-scale project to upgrade their security devices on spacecraft. Almost instantly, a salesperson materialized from an inner office.

  "I am Sasana," she said. "We're so pleased that the Jedi have thought of Kontag for their needs. We thought your order preferred to handle security internally."

  "We are considering other options," Dooku said.

  Sasana nodded. "Always wise. Let me show you what kind of top-notch security Kontag can provide." She handed Dooku a file identical to the one that Eero had showed them.

  Dooku pretended to look through it and handed it to Qui-Gon. "Interesting. Can you show us the factory?"

  Sasana's smile slipped. "That is an . . . unusual request."

  Dooku's smile took the place of hers. "A deal breaker, I'm afraid. The Jedi are very particular."

  He could see that the visions of a big contract were dancing in front of Sasana's eyes. "Of course," she said finally. "This way."

  Sasana tried to control the pacing and thoroughness of the tour, but Dooku knew that once he got inside the factory he would see whatever he wished. They strolled down the aisles while droids flew or walked by. Panels were examined, sensor suites were worked on, and the hum of machinery made it difficult to talk. The tour ended at a prototype of a state-of-the-art speeder.

  Dooku had seen enough. He told Sasana that they would be in touch and left.

  As soon as they were outside, he looked at his Padawan. "Impressions?"

  "Something isn't right," Qui-Gon said.

  "Why
is that?" Dooku asked.

  "There is evidence both of prosperity and decline," Qui-Gon said. "The offices are luxurious, but there were empty work spaces, as though staff had been dismissed. The list of clients includes jobs in progress. Yet from the activity I saw, the amount of droids and material, they couldn't possibly be serving that number. And there were areas on the factory floor that indicated that machinery had once been there and had been removed."

  "Excellent," Dooku said. "Conclusion?"

  Qui-Gon hesitated. "They are concealing something, of that I have no doubt. But I don't know what it is."

  "If the client base is correct, the work is being done somewhere. Just not at this factory," Dooku said. "What I see is a once-wealthy company who fell on hard times and has turned to a cheaper factory to do the work they once did. The factory here is a sham. It is not where the real work is being done."

  "How can we discover the real factory?" Qui-Gon asked.

  Dooku removed a sensor suite from underneath his cloak. "I think this might tell us something. Sensor suites always have a factory mark buried in their software. I took the liberty of removing it from the prototype." He drew out his datapad and inserted the suite, then tracked the information streaming across the screen. He pressed a few buttons. After only a moment, he smiled. "The Von-Alai factory planet," he said.

  Von-Alai had once been a cold planet covered with snow and ice. Its inhabitants were adept at foraging a living from the icy wastes. With the introduction of factories and toxic refuse, the climate had warmed, and periodic floods devastated the countryside. Instead of halting growth, more and more factories were built, and worker housing was built on raised platforms. The owners of the factories held political power, so the decision was made to adapt to the changing climate instead of limiting toxic outflow. As a result, the native plants died, floods were common, and a once-beautiful, silvery planet was now a soggy wasteland. The air was thick and tasted metallic. Pristine snow no longer fell, only a cold rain tainted by toxins.

  Qui-Gon stood on the landing platform, breathing the yellow air, silently taking in the wasted planet. "What a terrible destiny," he said. "The Alains have lost their planet."