CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Jacen was halfway down the grand staircase when it struck him.

"Some Jedi memory you've got, bantha brains."

He turned around and jogged back up. The meeting with Iliana had gone surprisingly well, all things considered, and she had seemed to take the news of Jag's sudden clandestine mission to Achebian space with hardly the blink of an eye. At the end of the meeting she'd given Jacen a datapad containing certain information Jag had requested.

The same datapad he had left behind in the conference room.

He hurried along the corridors. Not that he was particularly worried about having to admit his mistake – he'd done plenty of apologizing already today. And no doubt the Vikovans would've noticed his error and made sure the classified information wasn't just left lying around. So the forgetfulness itself wasn't the problem at all. The problem was that this place flat out gave him the creeps.

That whispered admonition of betrayal persisted at the edges of his perceptions in the Force. Nothing specific, nothing he could pin down in any way. Only the clear sense that something was wrong here. Something was very wrong.

Jacen strode through the open doorway to the conference room and stopped just inside. The spacious chamber was empty. Sunlight poured in through the huge windows, which revealed a stunning vista of a stone terrace and the formal gardens beyond. Everything had been cleared from the top of the long oaken table, the chairs were neatly pushed in along its sides, and everyone had left. And just as he'd expected the datapad in question was nowhere to be seen either.

"Sithspawn!"

Jacen placed his palms against the cool, smooth wood of the table and closed his eyes. A slow deep breath assured him there was no reason to panic. A simple comlink call to –

His eyes shot open and the Force flung his gaze to the far end of the room. One of the glass doors leading outside was ajar, and the faint sound of two voices drifted through. Jacen glanced over his shoulder, then walked quickly to the opposite corner of the room. Keeping his back flush to the wall, he got as close as he dared.

"– whatever is necessary," a woman was saying. An indistinct male voice responded. "Yes," she said. "Alive. If you want to be paid."

Jacen took another step closer and risked a peek onto the terrace. Halfway to the gardens, Iliana stood with her back to him. Her companion was a tall man in black fatigues with a pair of blaster pistols strapped to his hips. The left side of his bald head wasn't skin but shining silver metal, and where his left eye should have been was a glowing red cybernetic orb. His left hand wasn't organic either, but instead a silver robotic replacement.

The man asked a question, but Jacen couldn't hear his words.

"If you can, yes," Iliana said. "But her fate is none of my concern."

The man smiled, then dipped his torso forward in a bow. Iliana nodded in acknowledgement before he jogged away and vanished into the flora of the gardens.

Jacen knew she would turn back to the conference room any second. With a fierce burst of focus he muffled his footfalls with the Force as he used a burst of speed to reach the door to the hallway. Dropping his pace to a casual stroll as he emerged, he snatched the comlink from his belt and raised it to his mouth.

"Knight Solo!" a man's voice called out from behind him.

Jacen spun on his heel to see one of Iliana's aides approaching at a frantic clip, the missing datapad in hand. "I see you have what I forgot." He hefted the comlink and indicated the conference room he'd just left. "I was just about to contact you."

"I am pleased I could save you the trouble," the aide replied with a relieved smile.

Jacen took the datapad from him and tucked it under his arm. "Thank you."

The aide simply bowed, and scurried away.

Iliana would be here any moment, so Jacen walked as briskly as he could without running until he reached the first crossing corridor. Not even caring where he was heading, he turned down it and kept up the rapid pace. Right now, all he wanted was to distance himself from Iliana. The farther, the better.

A minute later he was sure he was clear, so he activated the comlink. "Major Nuruodo?"

A short pause. "Go ahead, Jacen."

"No time to explain. I need you to monitor any outgoing transmissions from the Palace grounds right away."

"Understood." A muffled conversation. "It will be implemented momentarily."

"Great! How should I –"

"I am in the Palace hangar bay with Ambassador Fel's starfighter. Meet me here."

"I'll be there in a few minutes, Ma-" Jacen ground his teeth. "Shawnkyr," he finished, and flicked off the comlink.

Then he remembered he had no idea where in the Palace he'd gone in his escape. Fortunately it only took a minute to regain his bearings, retrace his steps to the correct corridor, and head in the right direction. After that, he got there pretty fast.

"Interesting."

Well before he reached the sealed blast door to the Palace hangar bay housing Jag's ill-repaired clawcraft, Jacen could clearly see that the soldiers posted outside were Chiss. In fact, Iliana's distinctive heavily armed and armored guards were nowhere to be seen. Considering another attempt on her life had been made in the room not even two hours ago, the absence of the Vikovans was curious indeed.

Jacen picked up his pace down the long, narrow corridor. It seemed that he and Shawnkyr had even more to discuss than he had anticipated.

"Knight Solo," one of the blue-skinned soldiers said as he approached. "Major Nuruodo has been expecting you."

Leave it to the Chiss to find a formal way to say, You're late. Jacen tipped his head, and the other guard reached over to the wall panel. The blast door slid open just as he arrived.

"Thank –" Jacen said over his shoulder, except that the door already was sliding shut behind him the moment he passed through. "– you."

The only reply he received was the decisive clang of the immense metallic slabs colliding and the simultaneous hissing of the seals forming.

"Yeah." Jacen shook his head. "Next time I won't get lost."

The interior of the hangar bay certainly looked different this time around. A Chiss shuttle dispatched from the Polar Wind dominated the chamber. To one side sat a pair of clawcraft; to the other Jag's starfighter, right where Jacen had left it. A half dozen technicians were swarming over the Ambassador's ship, while Shawnkyr was huddled with a group of four intelligence officers at the base of the shuttle's lowered boarding ramp. Ringing the room, thirty Chiss soldiers stood watch.

"Well, now I feel safe," Jacen muttered.

Over the din in the room Shawnkyr couldn't possibly have heard him, but she looked over at him as if she had. She said something quickly to the officers, then came right toward him while they boarded the ship. Jacen met Shawnkyr midway between the door and the shuttle.

He didn't waste any time telling her what he'd seen and overheard outside the conference room, and she immediately relayed additional orders to the Polar Wind.

When she finished, she turned back to him. "It is good to see you again, Jacen."

"I couldn't agree more, Shawnkyr," he replied. "I owe you a debt of gratitude."

"I simply did my duty."

"Hardly. You saved my life."

"I am confident you would have avoided the crash on your own."

"Don't be so humble. It doesn't suit you."

The Chiss woman scowled. "You are not going to concede, are you?"

He grinned. "Would my sister?"

"Ah. Yes. I suppose she would not."

"So you admit you saved my life?"

Shawnkyr rubbed her palm over her forehead. "Yes."

Jacen grinned. "Look, there's something else important –"

"– we need to discuss at once," she finished over the top of his declaration.

Jacen laughed. "You first."

"No, you," she said. "I saved your life. Humor me."

"All right." He took a deep breath, and told her what had happened in the docking bay when he'd arrived, including the dead prisoner's exclamation of betrayal and Iliana's brutal killing of him. "Combine that with what I saw just now," he said in conclusion, "and I'm beginning to wonder who we're really dealing with here."

"As am I." Shawnkyr's red eyes gazed off thoughtfully. "Yesterday an assassination attempt was launched just after Ambassador Fel had landed on the plaza. Today a second attempt was made, again when Ambassador Fel was expected."

"They tried to kill Iliana."

"Iliana was present for both attacks."

Jacen furrowed his brow. "Wait. You think Jag was the target?"

"I think we should not assume Iliana was the intended victim," she replied. "Perhaps the timing is coincidence."

"Or maybe it isn't."

"That is what we are trying to determine."

"Wait a second. Is that why you have so many technicians working on Jag's clawcraft? It's not just a repulsor malfunction?"

"Perhaps," she said. "I have instructed the technicians to examine the ship thoroughly for any evidence of foul play."

"You think it could have been sabotage aboard the Polar Wind?"

"Admittedly unlikely. And you likely would have detected any attack carried out during the descent. Nevertheless it is prudent to avoid ruling out any possibility, however improbable we believe it to be."

"Makes sense." It was amazing, Jacen mused, that Jag's frighteningly meticulous side hadn't driven Jaina completely insane by now. He took a step closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "So what other information do we have?"

She matched his hushed tone. "Although we do not yet know his identity, the available recordings of both attacks confirm that the prisoner you saw killed during the second incident is the same assassin who was captured alive in the first incident."

"Hmm." He rubbed his fingertips over his temples. "But why would Iliana bring him here when Jag landed? What was her purpose?"

She shook her head. "If you can determine that, let me know."

A joke! He grinned. "You'll be the first to know, I promise. So where'd the recordings come from in here? Security cams or something?"

"As it happens, there are no surveillance cameras in this hangar bay." Shawnkyr held out her hands, and left the implication unspoken. "The images are from the recording device on Ambassador Fel's clawcraft."

Jacen frowned. "He didn't mention anything about that to me."

"There are many things he has not told you."

"Oh, really?"

"Some other time. I still need to tell you about –" Her comlink trilled, and she answered it immediately. "Go ahead."

"We have intercepted a ten-point transmission to an unidentified vessel orbiting the sixth planet of the system," the male Chiss voice said in Basic. "The ship immediately broke orbit and moved toward the hyperspace lanes."

"Track its trajectory and report to me right away," Shawnkyr ordered. She motioned Jacen to follow her toward the shuttle. "I'll be lifting off shortly."

He was surprised how quickly he had to walk to keep up with her. "You're sure this is worth pursuing, just from that?"

"Yes. The transmission met all ten suspicious criteria."

"Oh," Jacen said. "I get it."

"As I was about to say –" The comlink warbled again. "Yes?"

"Preliminary calculations plot its destination as the Kyrrtol system," the voice reported. "We will try to determine the error at once."

"Very well. Nuruodo out."

"So?" Jacen met her anxious gaze. "What's going on?"

"This is very bad," Shawnkyr said. "They are pursuing the Shadow."

"What? Surely Jaina and Jag are in Achebian space by now," he replied innocently.

She simply stared him down. Unwaveringly. Like she knew.

Despite the nagging desire to squirm like his cousin Ben, Jacen managed to remain utterly and passively immobile.

But those red eyes knew. "After the incident with his clawcraft I checked my personal comms, and found Jag's hastily prepared message. What were you two doing? Drinking red ale?"

Jacen couldn't squash the heat rising in his face. "How'd you know?"

Shawnkyr's brow arched. "There were a few… flaws in the message that were uncharacteristic of my friend. That had to be red ale talking. And if Jag is that far gone, he is taking his personal travails harder than I ever anticipated. I worry –"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about Jag, or Jaina for that matter. Jag's got a plan –"

"A red ale inspired plan?"

"Uh… no." Jacen cocked a half-smile. "A Solo plan. And they're going nowhere near that system, uh, Krit-tul or whatever it is."

"Kyrrtol." Shawnkyr abruptly fell silent. When she finally spoke again, it was merely a whispered thought. "It has to be him. It can be no one else."

"I've never heard of the Kyrrtol system. Why would Jag go there?"

"Because no one has heard of it," she replied. "All starcharts list it as uninhabitable. That is why my crew believes they have made an error."

"But it's not, and they haven't."

"No." Shawnkyr stopped in her tracks at the base of the ramp and leaned in close. "Baron Fel established a safehouse there years ago. No one outside the family knows about it."

Jacen narrowed his eyes. "No one except you."

Shawnkyr dipped her head unapologetically. "I'll tell you in flight. We have to leave right away."

"All right. I trust you." He jogged after her up the shuttle's boarding ramp. "But what I still don't understand is, how could they possibly have tracked the Shadow?"

"That," she said over her shoulder, "was what I needed to tell you."