CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Jag stood on the wide stone terrace outside Iliana's lavishly appointed office and gazed out over the formal grounds of the palace. He clasped his hands behind his back and focused on one of the soaring trees in the distance. The green fronds were painted bright by the midday sun, giving him a sense of beauty and calm utterly at odds with the events about to transpire on Vikova.

Make that, the events that were transpiring on Vikova. He had been here too long already. He had to make his exit, and quickly, or things might get very… disagreeable.

At his side, Iliana seemed lost in the vista too. "Do not decide so hastily, Jag," she said. "Do not return just yet."

"Why should I not? There is nothing left for me in the Known Regions now."

"Surely you are exaggerating."

He glanced over to her. "I do not think so."

She smiled. "You have many things. Fame and admiration. Opportunities for advancement. Respect. Influence. Power."

"I have those among the Chiss as well."

"Perhaps. But not so widely, and to such a great extent. As a heralded ambassador, you have virtually unlimited access to whatever resources or information you require. You can serve your people throughout the galaxy merely with your presence, and your strength."

"There are other ways," he said distantly, his hands unclasping and coming to rest on the stone balustrade before him, "to serve."

She chuckled. "You are not an easy man to convince, Jagged Fel."

"No, I am not."

"Your mind is made up?"

He did not look at her, and said nothing. The less he said, the easier it was to keep up the act.

Iliana leaned closer and rested a hand gently on his shoulder. "There is nothing I can offer to persuade you to stay?"

He met her gaze, and waited.

"An alliance."

"Ah."

"The Vikovans and the Chiss." Her hand stroked down his back to his waist. "Our alliance."

It was a very good thing, Jag decided, that Jaina was only listening over the feed from the hidden comlink in his collar, not observing. Somehow he didn't think the fact that he was only holding up his part in the ruse would lessen her bloodthirsty reaction any. "That. Yes."

"What is it, Jag?"

"My superiors have been less than impressed with my ability to forge that bond."

She ran her hand once up and down his back. "Perhaps…"

"Yes?"

"Perhaps, if you stay…" She guided him with her hand until he was looking into her eyes. "I would sign the treaty."

"Iliana, I –"

The sudden sound of soldiers rushing through the office behind them interrupted him. An instant later a squad of Iliana's heavily armed and armored guards had taken up positions around them. One of the troopers stepped forward.

"Your Grace," the man said in a tense, sharp voice, "we have a situation. I must advise you to leave for a more secure location immediately."

Iliana spun to face him. "What is the nature of the situation, Sergeant?"

The trooper tipped his head respectfully. "There has been an… incident at the Turkinsk facility. A level three emergency has been declared."

She looked to Jag again. "I must deal with this at once."

"I understand," he replied. Time to get out of here before she figures out how bad it really is. "Perhaps it would be best if I returned to my shuttle."

"No," she said. "It is too dangerous."

"I am certain your guards can protect me within the palace. And I assure you, the Chiss security for my shuttle is more than sufficient."

"I am sorry, Jag," she said, waving the sergeant to lead them into the office. "There is no time for that. Not under a level three emergency."

He frowned. "If you insist."

"I do."

She didn't seem to be lying, but if the true nature of Shawnkyr's and Jacen's mission to the prison had been discovered, Jag needed to get as far from Iliana as possible in case the attack on the palace was ordered next.

He followed her as she strode briskly into the palace. The guards maintained the protective cordon around them, even though as far as Jag could tell there was no one else in the corridors. After a short walk, Iliana stepped into a narrow alcove and brushed aside a long tapestry hanging from the ceiling. A quick tap of the small wall panel opened the door to a turbolift car.

"This leads to my secure bunker," she explained as the guards began to move inside.

Jag nodded. "You are certain my presence there is wise? Would it not be a breach of your security protocols?"

"I doubt my advisors would approve," she replied with a chuckle. "But that is no matter. They will do as I say, and I trust you."

"Nevertheless, I am not –"

"Please, Jag," she interrupted. The guards were ready to lead them into the turbolift car, but she held them up with a show of her palm. "You are an honorable man, and you serve an honorable people. Just as Jaina was an honorable woman, who served an honorable cause. If the security of my people is at stake, I could do no better than to rely on that honor."

Why did she have to bring that up now? "Very well."

They entered the turbolift, and as soon as the guards had filed in behind them the door sealed shut and the car began to descend. After only a short moment the car slid to a stop, and the door opened with a whoosh of air. The guards hustled them down another corridor before they ushered them into the bunker.

"If you will excuse me," Iliana said to Jag, "I must consult with my advisors."

"Of course."

She marched directly to a trio of military officers huddled over a holoprojector console, and immediately began a hushed conversation with them. The guards who had escorted them here filed out again, leaving Jag in the room along with a dozen more of Iliana's advisors but no other security. Then again, he realized, how much of a threat did he really pose? He wasn't even carrying a blaster.

Jag moved to stand off to the side, and from there appraised the bunker's control room. It was decked out not just with sophisticated surveillance and monitoring stations, but also high-grade communications arrays. This room wasn't merely a safehouse within the palace – it was a complete command facility. From here, one could coordinate not just the defense of the palace or the city, but the entire planet.

One could also, Jag thought wryly, coordinate the conquest of the entire planet. Unfortunately, he didn't have quite enough self-confidence to attempt a takeover of the room by himself. He had to play his role, and leave the rest for others. For Jaina.

Iliana stepped away from the holoprojector console and walked toward him. "It seems the situation has escalated."

How much do they know? "In what way?"

"We are waiting for more information," she said. "But it seems another attempt to topple my regime is underway. Perhaps even an attempt on my life."

The former, yes. The latter is entirely up to you. Jag's steady breathing kept his outward composure entirely solid. "That would be… unfortunate."

"Indeed it would."

Before he could say more, a Vikovan officer rushed through the control room's door. Without even a glance or word to Jag, Iliana turned to face the new arrival.

"Your Grace," the man said through his ragged breaths, "we have confirmed a Code Blue."

In a flash Iliana was facing Jag again. "Unfortunate indeed, Ambassador Fel. You have betrayed the wrong woman."

She flicked her right wrist, and a holdout blaster appeared from nowhere in her palm. With a grim concentration in her savage blue eyes, she leveled the blaster right at Jag's chest.

"As always, the lady is right." Jag threw up his hands. "I will not fight you."

Iliana only laughed darkly. "It does not seem, Ambassador, that the choice is yours to make."

Then she waved her left hand, and one of the officers at the holoprojector console entered a command. A moment later, Jag heard the soft pop of his concealed comlink overloading and shorting out from the blast of jamming signals.

Good timing, Jag thought. He said, "Apparently not."

Iliana waved the blaster toward one of the chairs at a nearby communications array. "Please. Have a seat."

Jag complied with a tip of his head, and lowered himself into the chair.

She grinned. "Now, Ambassador, you are going to tell me everything you know about this little operation of yours."

"And if I don't?"

"Then, Jagged Fel, you will die."

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