The Liberator/Part 17

Day 61 of the Liberation of Milagro – Later That Night

Mali watched from a wide window in Milagro's government center as unseasonable autumn snow sprinkled the city of Rogeum. Zemma Rufos had given him the office that had once belonged to Halicon Karzded, wanting nothing to do with it. The Sith Lord had collected a handful of dark side artifacts, but once those had been handed over to the Jedi Shadows, no trace of the dark side had lingered and Mali had moved in. Whether the fact that his office was two floors up from Zemma's emphasized the superior sovereignty of the Republic or made it look like the Republic was aggrandizing itself over the planetary government was a matter of ongoing debate among Mali's staff officers, but Mali himself was more concerned with the life signs he sensed approaching.

He did not turn as the door opened, but he saw Aldayr's reflection in the glass as his Padawan steered the two women in. He let them come to a stop, waited a second for effect, then turned.

"Fancy meeting you two here. Again."

Nal Chun smirked, and her sister Kadelle grinned. "Hey General Darakhan."

Mali looked at his apprentice. "Think you've got enough firepower there, Aldayr?"

"Huh? Oh." Aldayr looked down at the three pistols he had jammed through his belt at odd angles. "Confiscated."

Mali nodded. "Nice shiner."

Aldayr touched his cheek and winced. "Yeah, the Chuns know all the local hot spots."

"Why don't you go put some ice on that."

Aldayr frowned, looking at the Chuns, but Mali chindicated the door, and after a moment Aldayr bowed, spun on his heel, and walked out.

"I'll want those blasters back, Jedi," Nal called after him.

"I'll write you an invoice," he snapped over his shoulder. He flicked his hand, and the Force slammed the door for him.

Kadelle raised her eyebrows, and Mali sighed as he walked around the desk. Leaning against the front of it, he said, "You two keep some interesting company."

"Probably not anymore, after your Jedi friend singled us out in front of everyone there," Nal growled.

"Speaking of which, word is you two are the ones to talk to about the spaceport murder."

"That wasn't us!" Kadelle protested.

Mali read the indignation in her eyes, and the Force told him it was genuine. "Never said it was, though I'm glad to hear it. But you know who did it."

They looked at each other, then Nal said, "And if we do?"

"Now would be the time to tell me."

Nal crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. "What's it worth to you?"

Mali kept his patience, but thanked Raven in his head; the Tapani had sent him a summarized version of events on the way, giving him just enough time to corner them before they arrived. "Question is, what's it worth to you?"

He activated his desk holoprojector, which came up with an image of a dirty corridor at Rogeum Spaceport. "Still reading me, Sergeant?"

"Loud and clear, sir."

"Give me a visual on the target."

The visual crept along the corridor, then the assault team poked the spy camera around a corner and the Chun sisters both cried out before they could stop themselves. Mali let them get an eyeful of the Rogue's Gambit, then called, "You ready to storm the ship?"

"Waiting on your command, sir."

"No!" Kadelle said.

"You don't want to do that, General," Nal warned.

"Oh, I know, your assassin droid." Both of them unleashed a wave of surprise in the Force, and Mali made a mental note to thank Tirien for that little tidbit of recollection from his visit to Bogg 14. "Sergeant, your team remembered the droid, right?"

"Yes sir. Droid poppers are ready to go."

"Roger. Stand by." Mali powered down the holo, then looked at the Chuns. "Aside from possessing an assassin droid, which is a life sentence on Milagro by itself, I'm betting you've got more aboard the Gambit that'd keep you here for quite a while. Is it worth that to you?"

"We saved your life!" Kadelle protested.

"And I cleared all your warrants in the Corellian sector," Mali fired back. "Not just the system, the whole sector. Which took some doing, by the way, and calling in more than one favor."

Nal and Kadelle wore matching looks of loathing, amplified when they both crossed their arms. Mali resisted the instinct to lay a hand on his lightsaber under that withering double stare—or to apologize for cornering them, as another part of him wanted to do. He was still grateful for the escape from Milagro the year before, and what amounted to blackmail made him feel dirty; it was not a Jedi Guardian's weapon of choice. But keeping Milagro together now had to take priority, so he waited them out until Kadelle cracked, looking at her sister; Nal glanced her way, then sighed.

"What do you want, Jedi?" Nal demanded.

"Who killed the RSAP officer?"

Nal measured him with a look, then said, "The crew changes now and then, but the ship's called the Snows of Carlac. Goes by the Ice Princess sometimes too."

Mali took out his datapad and jotted it down. "What were they doing here?"

"Same thing we are," Kadelle said. "If the Republic won't get Milagro what it needs, somebody else will."

"Somebody," Mali repeated. "Meaning the cartels?"

The Chuns shrugged, and Mali frowned. "A ship name's not gonna cut it. Who hired them?"

"That's dangerous information, Jedi," Nal said.

Mali thought of the protests against the Republic's continuing presence and the outcry that had started already over the officer's murder. Zemma and the pro-Republic contingent were keeping the lead of public opinion for the moment, but the wave of popular support for the liberating army would soon reach the shore and start to recede, and Mali couldn't ride it all the way to election day. He set his datapad down.

"I'm holding out against Vedya Gasald and an army of monsters, with threats on all sides. This planet is struggling to get back onto its feet after the Sith put it on its knees for a year.  And now a good man, who managed to survive that year of tyranny, is dead." He narrowed his eyes. "You haven't seen dangerous yet. But if you don't tell me who's responsible for that murder, you just might."

He realized too late that his frustration had become anger, and his anger had bled into the Force, because Kadelle's eyes widened, Nal's face tightened with uncertainty, and they both took a step back. Kadelle started to raise her hands. "General…"

Mali closed his eyes, turning away and leaning on his desk, taking deep, cleansing breaths. He had power over the Chuns, but exercising it would not mend Milagro's many hurts, nor would it make him feel better. Once he had purged himself of his anger, he turned back and raised his own hand. "I'm sorry."

Nal still looked uneasy. "Job stress getting to you, Jedi?"

Mali chuckled without humor. "Yeah, you could say that." He ran a hand through his long hair, then refocused. "All right, here's the deal: name the paymaster and I'll let you go. We'll have to confiscate any illegal cargo you have, but I'll let you keep the assassin droid…since it's a dangerous galaxy."

The sisters traded looks again, and Mali saw Kadelle's slight nod. Nal grimaced, but nodded in turn and faced him. "Black Sun. Black Sun hired them to bring in datapads and comlinks."

"And?"

"Spice."

"Plus, the devices are made by Black Sun-owned companies," Kadelle added. "Gives them a cut of the profit margin on both sides."

Mali nodded. "Black Sun hired you too?"

They shook their heads.

"We're not that desperate yet," Nal said. "The Hutts can be nasty if you cross 'em the wrong way, but they're not stupid; they pay well if you're reliable, and there's a degree of protection that comes with running for them."

"Meaning local thugs and pirates are going to think twice about hijacking a Hutt courier?" Mali asked.

"Something like that."

"So what's the problem with Black Sun?"

"They're…er…not as tolerant of mistakes," Kadelle said. "The Hutts understand, sorta. Cover your expenses—maybe a little extra for inconveniencing their customers—and they're good.  Black Sun…sometimes you only get one shot.  Especially with the people in charge now."

"Probably why the crew on the Snows of Carlac were trigger-happy," Nal offered. "Couldn't risk getting caught."

Mali nodded, brushing his bearded chin with his thumb for a minute. "Who're these nasty customers running Black Sun?"

The Chun sisters shook their heads without even bothering to look at each other, and Kadelle said, "That wasn't part of the deal."

"And it's more than our lives are worth," Nal said.

Mali sensed he couldn't move them from that, even if he did lock them up for the rest of their lives. He thought a moment. "Are they Sith?"

"No," Kadelle assured him.

"Then I can live with it." Mali blew out a breath. "All right, we'll find you rooms here for now and get this sorted out as soon as we can."

"Are we your prisoners?" Kadelle asked.

"…let's say you're my guests."

"Guests can leave whenever they want," Nal pointed out.

"Hmm…yeah, true. Okay, then yeah, you're my prisoners.  Not for long," he said when they both scowled. "Seriously, a day or two and I'll spring you."

"From what, our cells?" Nal demanded.

"Hey, you're not that much of prisoners. We'll find…"

He trailed off, sensing Aldayr returning. When the door opened, Mali saw his apprentice had covered his moment of temper, for now he wore no expression at all. "Holo for you, Master."

Mali gestured to the Chuns. "Can it wait, Aldayr?"

Aldayr showed a thin, sardonic smile. "Well, it's Master Cazars, so…?"

"So no." Mali sighed. "I'll take it here. Get the Chuns situated somewhere.  Somewhere pleasant, mind you, but make sure they don't go exploring."

"So…no blasters yet?"

"Yeah, no." He gave the women an apologetic look. "Tomorrow. Day after at the latest."

"I'll hold you to that, Jedi," Nal growled.

Kadelle turned to follow her toward Aldayr, then looked back and half-smiled. "Don't get too stressed, General."

Mali smiled, but when they were gone he cleared his expression. After relaying an order for the team of soldiers to secure the Rogue's Gambit ' s exterior but hold there, he reactivated the holoprojector, adjusting the channel until it produced an image of Elata Cazars. He bowed. "Master."

"Hello Mali," she said; then, without further preamble, she asked, "No sign of Gasald?"

"Not yet. We're keeping an eye out for her spies, but the great thing about being boxed in on all sides but one is that there's only one way our people will be coming."

"And what about her agents who were on Milagro to begin with?"

"I'm sure we haven't rounded up everyone," Mali admitted, "but the tribunals have started for all the top people, so I expect that's put a lot of would-bes on standby."

The Twi'lek Jedi Master looked thoughtful. "Have you expanded at all from Milagro?"

Mali shook his head. "Aridus is up the Gamor Run, but it's a desert; we could probably walk in with a Jedi and some fighters and take it, but it'd still be more than it's worth to hold. We've sent spy probes with an eye toward raids nearby, but we don't have the forces to take and hold another major planet and Milagro at once."

Elata sighed. "Speaking of your forces, Mali…I need some of them back."

Mali stared. "What?"

"Your absence has been noticed. Seldec is massing a force to target Ithor and reenter the Mid Rim."

Mali swore before he could stop himself. "What kind of force?"

"If you could bring your entire Milagro fleet up here, that would be helpful."

She was clearly not serious…but now that he looked more critically, Mali saw the signs of weariness around her eyes, and he hated the answer he had to give. "I can't spare any yet, Master."

She frowned. "This isn't a whim—I need them, Mali."

"So do I! The fleet's the only thing that's keeping Gasald from coming right back and slaughtering all the good guys she didn't get the first time.  The Republic was supposed to be sending me shield generators…"

It was hard to keep the accusation out of his voice, and her narrowed eyes told him she had noticed. "I've already fought with Republic Procurement and Supply for you once."

"To feed the hungry!" Mali snapped. "What a radical concept!"

"To feed people who aren't Republic citizens," she replied.

"The vote's in about a month! Do you think maybe you guys can skip the big dinners for a month and—"

"Careful, Jedi Knight," Elata warned, and Mali knew he had pushed her good will about as far as he could. "The Republic is more than one world, and this war is more than your one small campaign."

"Small?! If Gasald recovers Milagro she can double her fleet at Allanteen.  You're worried about Aresh entering the Mid Rim?  Gasald's going to be in the Inner Rim, and if she hits Denon we lose the south Hydian—"

"And Corellia is endangered?"

"Yes." Part of him regretted wearing his green robe for the conversation, while another part was irritated at the mere thought. "The Republic couldn't afford to lose Corellia even if I was from Xo! Does nobody else on the Council get that?  What about Master Arodion?"

"Nawsa has championed your campaign more than you know," Elata warned him. "And the Council can't get involved in every piece of minutia just because you happen to be leading it."

"Then don't—tell them to give me whatever I need and we'll call it good."

Once, early in his Padawan years, Mali and Ainar had been called far into the Outer Rim for a mission on Tatooine. The deserts there had been less dry than the look Elata Cazars was giving him now.

"I'll see if I can push the shield generators to you, but I'm going to need reinforcements soon, Mali," she cautioned him. "Come up with a viable strategy to get by with fewer ships."

Mali bowed, not trusting himself to respond aloud for fear of what might slip out. When the holo had derezzed, he sat at his desk and rested his forehead on his hands. He had just come to the unpleasant realization that he needed to get Raven's full report when there was a knock on the door; unable to muster the motivation to rise, he pointed at the door without looking and opened it with the Force.

"General Darakhan, I—" Zemma Rufos cut off. "Are you all right?"

Mali sucked a breath down through his nose and stood, blinking his weariness away. "I'm fine. What can I do for you, Zemma?"

She did not look convinced, but left it alone. "I just received word your Jedi and Republic soldiers were involved in an incident here in Rogeum."

"We've apprehended a couple beings with information on the RSAP murder."

"I'm told at least a dozen people are dead, Mali."

"Apparently it was a known criminal hangout, and a bunch of them decided to fight rather than come quietly. Once I debrief the mission's commander…"

He trailed off as she walked up to the other side of his desk, her brown eyes narrowed but troubled. "Why wasn't I informed of this operation?"

Mali gestured to one of the chairs, but she didn't sit even when he did. "You're responsible for putting this whole planet back together. My job is just security.  Admiral Vaskolt's got things together up the well, so I just need to keep things together down here.  I didn't want to bog you down with details."

"And the shield generators we're supposed to have? If your job is security…"

"I'm working on it." Having seen how well his clipped tone went over with Master Cazars, Mali tried to hold it in this time around. "I'm pulling all the strings I can get my hands on, but the Republic's not thrilled to be funneling supplies to a non-member world."

"The vote is a month—"

"I know." Mali could hear himself losing the battle for Jedi control, so he tried a different tack. "If you can put together a pro-Republic demonstration or two, it'll make my job easier. The more I can show how the vote's going to come out, the happier the Republic will be."

Zemma's face twisted. Without answering the point, she said, "Speaking of demonstrations, Pastor Jeh-Kro is planning a religious meeting next week in Derresor."

"A pro-Republic meeting…?" Mali asked without much hope.

Zemma did not reply at once, and Mali had the unusual sensation of her disquiet being palpable in the Force. "I'm not sure what it's about," she said at length. "I didn't work with the Pastor often, and I only met him in person once. He was no friend of the Sith, and Banaji knows his methods were effective, but they—his group, that is—they're…different."

Mali set his arms on his desk and leaned forward. "Yeah, you've said that before. 'Different' how?"

Now Zemma did sit. "Just…different. Jossi and my people were serious about our work, but the Pastor's followers were intense about everything.  Fighting the Sith wasn't just a noble thing to do, even a calling, it was a religious obligation."

"They're zealots?"

"That's a good word for them," Zemma admitted. "And they're very devout."

Mali saw potential and danger at once. "So if he's for or against the Republic, they'll probably all be for or against the Republic?"

"I haven't spoken to enough of them to be sure…but I wouldn't be surprised."

"Maybe we should have some people at this meeting."

Zemma's eyes narrowed. "You're talking about spying on a peaceful religious gathering?"

"Of course not," Mali complained. "I just want to know what to expect. And if he's telling people how to vote, it's as political as it is religious."

Zemma shook her head. "It's walking the line at best. I'm not comfortable having Milagro's law enforcement spying on the Pastor."

"I agree. I'll have Republic Intelligence send a couple plainclothes over."

He could feel her anger. "Is that the kind of protection we can expect from the Republic? Spies in peaceful gatherings of potential political opponents?"

The charge wounded Mali; on reflection he thought there was too much truth in it for comfort. But… "Just because people are on Republic worlds doesn't mean we should stop being cautious.  The Republic learned that lesson at Anaxes, and we paid dearly for it."

This time he had her on a discomfiting point; she winced and sat back. "Don't send Republic Intelligence; I know they're stealthy, but if they're discovered…the last thing I need is for the people to think of Republic Intelligence as some kind of secret police. Lord Ssron taught us that lesson.  Send some of your Jedi."

"Jedi?"

"The people still trust them," Zemma said. "They're still the heroes of the Liberation."

And spying on public gatherings was hardly what Mali would call heroic, nor was it a task for Jedi Guardians. Mali squirmed inside, but he could not bow out now, so he nodded. "Good idea. I'll pull in some people."

Zemma sat back, shaking her head and frowning. "I'm not happy about this, Mali."

"Hey, the comprehensive security thing isn't really my specialty either," Mali said, raising his hands. "I'm a soldier too, remember? I love it when the enemies come right at me waving lightsabers, but they don't always."

She brushed her short-cropped hair ruefully. "I was the wrong choice for this position."

"Nah, you're a great leader," Mali assured her. "You held your group together even without Jossi, under conditions I've never had to face. That took a lot of skill and determination, and those are things Milagro needs right now."

"Maybe. But after the elections—"

"You're running for a seat, aren't you?" Mali reminded her.

She gave him a look. "At your insistence, as I recall."

Mali rolled his eyes. "I was just the loudest voice saying the same thing everyone else was. You're a shoo-in for Prime Minister."

"Great…"

"Hey, we don't always get to serve where we want to," Mali said. "We serve where we're needed."

Zemma raised her eyes from the floor back to him. "And which is Milagro for you, Mali?"

Mali hid his unease with a smile to project the confidence he didn't have. "Bit of both. Sometimes you do get to serve where you want."

Zemma smirked and rose. "I'll look forward to that someday. Good night, General Darakhan."

"Good night, Prime Minister."

Mali started to review a list of Jedi onworld—and those near enough that he might requisition them before Coruscant could realize what he was up to—but Zemma's charge of spying on those who might be completely beneficent weighed on him, and by the time Aldayr came back in, Mali was resting his head on his forearms.

"Holo for you, Master."

Mali banged his head on the desk with a groan. "Now what?"

"Commodore Kalliot's task force just got back. She's on for you."

Mali sat up, knuckled his eyes, gestured Aldayr into a chair out of holo view, and tapped a control on his desk. When Essely Kalliot's face appeared in blue-white holo, Mali said, "Please tell me you have some good news. Or failing that, tell me whatever this is can wait until tomorrow."

She raised her eyebrows. Though quite a bit older than Mali, she didn't look it; something about being Corellian kept people youthful, he thought. "Well, it can't wait, but it is good news."

"Let's hear it."

"We ran down the Harrin as far as Coonee. We found a few of Gasald's picket craft and a couple cruisers, but they were nothing we couldn't handle."

"Did you—"

"—jam them before they could communicate?" It was apparently Mali's night for scathing looks, though Essely's had a bit of a smirk to it. "It's not my first Run, thanks. We dusted them and nobody heard a peep."

"Well done. Do you think they were scouting up the Corridor for an invasion?"

"Probably. Hopefully now they won't know what to think, and it'll buy us time."

"All right, I'll hand it to you, this counts as 'good news'."

"Oh, that wasn't the good news," Essely assured him. "That was just an update."

Across the room, Aldayr perked up as Mali raised an eyebrow and asked, "What's the good news?"

"Your Jedi friend from the Seventy-Second met us at Sika."

"Tirien?"

"No, that wasn't it…"

"Slejux?"

"An Arcona."

It took Mali a second. "Yan Razam?"

"That's the one! She came aboard with the navigational data from her fighter squadron." Essely grinned. "Think you could find a use for one hundred twenty-six gravity mines?"

Mali and Aldayr stood in shock, and it took Mali a moment to find his voice. "You've got a hundred twenty-six functional gravity mines?!"

"Well, they were still down from the ion blasts," Essely cautioned. "We retrieved close to two hundred, but dozens had been fried too badly for repair. I've had my techs working on them—so far we've only gotten about two dozen viable again, but they tell me the rest should be reparable."

"That's…" It was a struggle to focus enough for words. "Essely, that's the best news I've had in a long time. Well done!"

"Hey, count on a Corellian to bring you good news. Speaking of which, as long as the Seventy-Second doesn't mess up, the lanes should be clear from Arrgaw and Pax for a while."

Since every other hyperlane leading to Milagro ran through Vedya Gasald's territory, Mali knew that should be the real good news. But one hundred twenty-six gravity mines kept echoing in his head, and he began to evolve a plan. "Essely, what's the estimate for getting the rest of the gravity mines live?"

"We've repaired two dozen since we left Yan Razam at Sika, so based on that…"

Mali did the math in his head. "Keep your people on it—I'll comm you in the morning. Excellent work, Essely.  Really—this may change the fortunes of more than one conflict."

She looked bemused, but pleased. "All for the safety of the Eldest Brother, General."

"And her people sleep safer tonight for your service. Darakhan out."

Mali powered down the holoprojector and looked across the room at his Padawan. "Where'd you put the Chuns?"

"I got them spare bunks in the barracks, why?"

"Show me."

Mali knew the way to the barracks, and Aldayr almost had to run to keep up; only when they were inside did he let his Padawan lead. Their path ended in a sparsely-occupied wing, before a door guarded by two Republic soldiers. They came to attention for Mali, who returned their salutes, then rapped on the door.

"What?" Nal Chun demanded as she opened the door, wearing only a tank top and sweat pants. She showed brief surprise when she saw who was visiting, but rallied at once. "What now, Darakhan?"

She gave way as Mali advanced into the room. Waving the door closed once Aldayr had entered, he looked for Kadelle and found her sitting on a bunk wearing prison garb, though with the sleeves of her jacket rolled up. Mali looked at Aldayr.

"It's what we had lying around," he explained, shrugging.

Mali thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Whatever. Anyway, ladies, I have a business proposition for you."

It was hard to tell, with his eyes or the Force, which one was more startled. Kadelle hopped off her bunk. "What kind of proposition?"

Mali grinned. "How would you feel about a delivery run?"