TEN
Mission was beginning to think that no one would ever take out the trash. She was crouched on a ledge above the garbage bay in the Republic station and had been there for sixteen hours. The wet collection of food scraps, papers, and she didn't want to think about what else was slowly rising toward the ledge, but no one seemed inclined to do anything about it. She wasn't sure how much longer she could survive down here.
Mission had realized that things were about to go badly in Wann's office and snuck away before they did. She knew Carth could take care of himself and Jan, and it wouldn't do them any good to all be trapped in a holding cell somewhere. She used an old trick she'd learned on Taris to avoid detection—garbage dumps put off enough heat to camouflage your heat signature. So she dove down the first disposal chute she found and crawled up to the ledge to wait for them to decide she'd left the station and stop looking for her. She had her canteen and a couple of ration bars with her, so it was just a matter of ignoring the pain in her shoulders and knees and waiting it out. But now it had been well over half a day and no one had come to activate the disposal. She couldn't get back up the chute, but the bay had a door that the disposer had to manually open to flush the refuse, and Mission knew she could sneak by with her stealth belt. If someone ever came.
Something moved in the disgusting mess below her, and Mission pushed herself farther toward the wall. She'd heard rumors of monsters in garbage bays, but she thought they were just stories Griff made up to keep her out of them. Just as she was contemplating whether the monster had tentacles that could reach her ledge, a klaxon sounded and the door below her slid aside. With a sigh of relief, Mission swung down off the ledge and onto the walkway that ran across the bay. Two young men in garish Republic uniforms were standing outside the doorway.
"Okay, Restoog, this is your job for the next quarter," the slightly older one was saying to the younger. He laughed. "I'm glad we got a new crop of ensigns from the Academy."
The younger one grumbled good naturedly and set the flash activator that would turn all of the garbage into ash. Mission started to creep past them, taking care to set her footfalls precisely so they would make no sound. Suddenly, the garbage behind her disintegrated with a booming puff, and Mission jumped before she could stop herself. The tip of her lekku brushed the younger soldier's arm.
He jerked around. "What was that?"
"What was what?" the older soldier asked. "Look, just finish the cleanup so we can close this thing. It reeks like a rancor in there."
Mission crouched next to the door across the hall. She hoped they didn't start a search.
Restoog shook his head. "Must have been imagining it. I thought someone walked by me for a second. It could have been that Twi'lek we've been looking for."
"What, do you think she hung out in the garbage bay all day? You haven't been around enough Twi'leks—they're a fussy bunch, especially the females. No, she's probably back at Marne by now, or if Onasi is any indication, half dead."
Mission clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. What did they mean? She knew Carth hadn't looked right when they ran into him at Marne. But half dead?
Restoog finished his work and closed the doors. He and the older officer began walking away. They didn't look in Mission's direction. "It's too bad about Captain Onasi," he said. "Did you know he wiped out a whole squadron of Mandies during the war with half a turret gun and no backup? He's the whole reason I joined the Fleet. He really ought to go down in battle, not from some colonial flu." They turned a corner and out of earshot.
Mission got to her feet and headed the opposite way from the two soldiers. If Carth was sick, then they'd have him at the infirmary, right? Not the holding cells. But Wann was getting pretty mad when she left, so maybe he'd take them to the holding cells and just let a medtech come see them. Or maybe— Mission shook her head. She just had to pick a place and start there. She reached an intersection checked her options. Judging from the smells, left was the mess hall. She'd come from straight ahead before, so that just left right. She turned that way and walked for a good half klick before she saw the softly glowing Basic glyphs for the infirmary.
She had to flicker off her belt for just a second to get the door reader to see her and swish open. She ducked inside, vibroblade ready in case she was spotted. But the receptionist was arguing with an Ithorian and didn't see her.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot let you see anyone in quarantine," the woman was explaining with a firm look on her face. Mission wouldn't want to cross the woman.
The Ithorian warbled something in its own language, but the receptionist cut it off.
"I'm afraid that's all I can tell you. If you do not need medical attention, please leave."
Mission started to slide back toward the interior of the infirmary. How many people could possibly be in quarantine—Carth and Jan had to be there. She had passed the Ithorian, who still hadn't left, when it looked directly at her.
"Follow me out, herdling," it warbled in Basic.
Mission's hand flew to her belt, thinking that she had stupidly turned it off, but she was still invisible. The receptionist had gone back to reading a datapad and looking stern. How could the Ithorian see her? She decided to ignore it and continue back.
"I will help you," it said, still looking at her.
The receptionist looked up, irritated. "Are you trying to bribe me now? Don't make me call security."
Mission looked at the doorway to the interior of the infirmary and was disheartened to see that it required a passcard. She might be able to crack it eventually, but it would take hours and wasn't exactly quiet work. Someone would find her, and then what good would she be to Carth and Jan? She looked back, and the Ithorian was still waiting for her, now standing just outside the door. She cocked her head, puzzled as to why the Ithorian was standing so close to the entrance. Then she realized. It was making sure the door stayed open for her. So she wouldn't have to turn off her stealth generator.
She was about to turn and go with the large alien when she heard the whoosh of a change in air pressure and saw the door to the interior opening. Someone was coming out from the inside. A man in full quarantine garb came out, pulling off his mask as he came. The receptionist turned and ran a quick hand over the back of her hair, a smile spreading across her face. She almost looked pretty with that smile.
"Hello, Garon," she said.
Garon returned her smile and started toward her. Now was her chance. Mission ran full out and slid her body sideways through the door just as it was closing. She stifled a yelp as the door caught her booted heel. That was going to hurt later.
The interior of the infirmary was cooler than the base and everything was suffused with a bluish glow. The lights above her head buzzed quietly. Men and women in various states of protection against germs walked the main thoroughfare, speaking quietly to each other and to the corders they carried. Mission was relieved to find that there was plenty of signage. Right to go to the surgery centers and the visiting area. Left to go to the labs and the quarantine cells. She headed left and had to remember to keep stepping out of the way of busy medtechs who couldn't see her.
She finally got to the row of quarantine cells after waiting what seemed like forever for someone to come out of the room and activate the door. She ducked inside and looked down the row of forcefielded doorways. In the one farthest to the back, she could see a shadow pacing back and forth. The other cells were empty. Mission ran back to the cell and saw Jan pacing with a vaguely anxious expression on his face. Carth was on the bench at the back of the cell, leaning against the side wall.
Mission looked at the ceiling and didn't see any cameras or corders for the exterior of the cell. She turned off her stealth field. "Jan!" she called.
He looked up and a huge grin spread across his face. "Mission! I thought they must have caught you by now!"
Carth smiled. "Hey, kid. I knew you'd come through for us." His voice was husky and he started to cough. Mission glanced over at Jan, alarmed, and saw the same quiet worry on his face that he'd had when she came in.
Carth's coughing finally subsided, but he looked drained and shaky afterward. Mission was shocked to see some streaks of gray in his dark hair. The last time she'd seen someone look this bad was when Case got scratched by a rakghoul on Taris and she and Big Z and Carth had to find the serum. And she'd almost died then. Maybe the soldiers outside the refuse bay hadn't been exaggerating.
"Carth--" she ventured.
He waved his hand dismissively. "It's not important. Listen to me." There was no arguing with his tone. "The medtech who just left is the last person who will be in this sector overnight. You should be able to get out of the infirmary without anyone seeing you. Our speeder should be somewhere in the landing bay—take it and get to Marne as soon as possible. If Wann is trying to scare people off the planet, he'll make sure Diplomacy sends transport vehicles to get people off. You have to make sure everyone leaves before their vaccine deactivate. I think Doctor Coran has that deactivation code. You don't have much time."
"But we'll just be doing what they want!" Jan protested. "We're asking people to give up their homes, their lives!"
Carth nodded seriously. "I know, Jan. Believe me, I don't like the idea of the Ithorians getting our planet any more than you do. But Telos is just a place on a starmap. If we can save the people, we've saved the planet."
Jan glowered for another moment, then reluctantly nodded. "I guess we can't let everyone get the virus."
"Good. Now get to Marne as soon as you can and make sure everyone gets off—the separatists, too, if you can." Carth paused, out of breath. "As soon as you start the evacuation, make sure you get on a transport. I want the two of you off this planet as soon as possible."
"What do you mean, the two of us? You're coming with us! I can crack this forcefield with one hand tied behind my back!"
Jan exchanged a glance with Carth. "It's just you and me, Mission." Jan's face was pink even through the blue haze of the forcefield.
Mission suddenly realized what they both weren't saying, and it was like someone had punched her in the gut. "No!" she cried, not caring who might hear through the doors. "You're not going to die, Carth, you can't!"
"Mission—" he began.
"No! I don't want to hear it! You might not be able to come with us now, but I'm coming back for you before I leave the planet. You've never left a soldier behind! That's what you said! And I ain't gonna, either!"
Carth smiled a little, and almost looked like his old self. "I don't think I've ever stopped you from doing anything, Mission. But I need you to do this for me first."
She'd go to Marne for Carth's sake, but he was as crazy as Jolee if he thought she wasn't coming back here. "Okay, let me get this field down. Stand back."
The lock for the quarantine cell was almost embarrassingly easy to break, and the blue field dropped with a hum. Mission half expected an alarm to go off, but nothing happened. It was like they didn't really care whether the quarantine held. Or, she thought darkly, maybe they just didn't think the quarantined people would have the strength to leave even if they could.
Jan was out of the cell in a second and grabbed her spike to set to work on the monitoring bracelet locked around his wrist. Mission hesitated only a moment before flinging herself into Carth's arms and hugging him as tightly as she dared without making him cough. She didn't care that she looked like a baby in front of Jan. She wanted to remember what this was like, just in case—
Carth hugged her back while Jan pointedly looked the other direction and fiddled with his bracelet. "Be careful, Mission, please?" he asked. Mission could hear his breath rattle ominously in his chest.
"I'm coming back, okay? I ain't leaving this rock without you. Case would slice me into a zillion parts."
Carth gently pushed her away and held her at arms' length. He looked hard at her through dark-smudged eyes. "Tell Case and Dustil that I love them." He smiled. "And tell Case that I finally realized what she was up to on Coruscant. She couldn't fool me forever."
Jan's bracelet finally popped and clattered to the floor. It was time to go. She nodded and turned away.
"And Mission—" Carth called after her.
She turned back. "Yeah?"
"I love you, too. You know that, right? I can't speak Shyriiwook, but I think the phrase is daughter-of-my-heart."
She smiled and gave him a mock salute. "Back at you, geezer. I'll be back before you know it."
And with that, she dashed out the door, Jan on her heels. She didn't want Carth to see the tears streaming down her face.
They didn't run into any problems sneaking their speeder out of the bay, but it was tense, nerve-wracking work. Mission dozed off almost as soon as they got the speeder off base property and out to the plains to Marne. She hadn't had more than a quick couple of minutes since the night of the party in Marne. Her dreams were confusing tangles of images, from Taris, from the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine, even Kashyyyk. The vague images always seemed. . .happy, or at least peaceful. Even when life clearly was not.
She blinked slowly awake to find her right lekku painfully pinched between her shoulder and the windowshield of the speeder. She yawned and stretched, wincing at the pinprickles of sensation from her sleeping headtail. Jan was driving, mouth set in a grim line as he raced toward the settlement. Mission felt a twinge of embarrassment that she had fallen asleep when they had such a desperate task in front of them.
"How close are we?" she asked.
He glanced at her, expression unchanged. "Twenty minutes, probably. Do you need something to eat or drink? I guess you were hiding somewhere in the base for a long time."
Mission was suddenly conscious of the smell wafting up from her clothes. "Oh, crap!" she exclaimed. "I really stink, don't I?"
"Don't worry, I can breathe through my mouth."
Mission's face turned hot. She opened her mouth to protest but the smile hovering around Jan's eyes stopped her. He was teasing her. Though, sniffing her sleeve, she did smell. She abruptly changed the subject. "You're not feeling sick, are you? From the virus, I mean."
The grim expression settled back onto Jan's face. "I think my vaccine is fine. For now." His expression darkened. "They weren't even trying to help him at the base—they just put us in that cell and then pretended we weren't there, even when he couldn't stop coughing one time for almost half an hour. All I could do was watch and shout for help that didn't come. I don't think they're even looking for a cure."
"They're trying to scare people into leaving—if people start dying, they'll stop putting up a fight and just go." Mission wasn't surprised that Wann was such a bad guy—he'd been awfully shady about the kolto plant on Manaan. But Jan obviously felt like his government had betrayed him. He didn't volunteer any further conversation, just stared ahead and kept his hands hard around the throttle controls.
It was just starting to get light when Marne appeared as a smudge on the horizon. There was something odd about its profile. Mission pulled the binocs out from under her seat and focused on the city. "Oh, no," she whispered.
Jan looked at her sharply. "What? What's wrong?"
Mission brought the binocs down. "Something's on fire at the city. Something big."
Jan cursed and tried to make the speeder go faster. Mission unstrapped her vibroblades and got them ready. She tried not to think about all the people she'd made friends with in their weeks at the settlement.
She knew things were bad when she saw the city gates hanging from their hinges, leaving the city wide open. Beat-up speeders were tossed around the gates like dice. The smoke she had seen came from something inside the city gates.
Jan slid the speeder to a stop and was running toward the settlement before Mission could even get to the ground. His blaster had been confiscated at the base, so he wasn't even holding a weapon. Mission raced after him. "Jan, wait!" she shouted.
She ducked around the broken gates and gasped. The center square looked like a gang war about to happen. An angry crowd of citizens faced off against a handful of Ithorians and the town council. Mission thought she recognized the Ithorian who had spoken to her at the Infirmary, but it was hard to tell individuals among the big creatures. She looked for Jan and saw him at the edge of the citizen group.
Dr. Coran's infirmary was on fire. Someone must have thrown some heavy artillery to catch the titansteel roof tiles on fire. Mission had helped nail those tiles herself only a week ago, when the whole town had come together to put up the new infirmary. She saw firebrands and grenades in the hands of a few citizens and knew that they had done it themselves. And, judging by the terrified and angry looks on the settlers' faces, they already knew about the virus.
The director, Mitch Ando, came out in front of the Ithorians and raised his hands to the crowd. "Citizens, please, don't do this! No one is to blame for the virus! We can overcome this like we did before. Remember everything we've gone through." He looked like he was trying and utterly failing to be reassuring.
A man in the crowd with unkempt hair and red-rimmed eyes surged forward and had to be restrained by his neighbors. "They're all dead, Mitch! My whole family! I dug three graves last night, and now I hear that those animals," he pointed at the four Ithorians, "did this! They're trying to kill us and take our land! You can't, it's all I have now—" he broke off, sobbing. The crowd's murmurs around him got louder and angrier. Mission knew from the gang wars on Taris that things were seconds away from blowing.
"It's not the Ithorians, it's the Republic that's doing this." A new voice rose above the muttering crowd. "Who do you think let the Ithorians down here? How do you think they knew how to kill us? It's the government that's profiting from the virus!"
Mission turned and saw a raggedly-dressed Jan standing with a group of Humans near the broken city walls, but that didn't make any sense. She looked quickly back, and Jan was still standing with the citizens, now staring with wide eyes at the speaker. She realized suddenly that the speaker must be Jirin. On closer inspection, she could see that his poorly mended jacket and shirt concealed heavy chest armor. He was holding a blaster rifle in his right hand like he was used to handling one. The crowd around him was similarly armed.
"Do you all want to die like Dano'sfamily? We have to stop the Republic now!" he shouted.
Mission had a bad feeling about this. The crowd had heard Jirin's words, and the already dangerous feel turned abruptly darker. Jan, standing weaponless on the side of the crowd, was nodding with the rest of them. It was one thing to hate the Ithorians, but it was another thing altogether if the Republic itself had turned against them. This confrontation would turn into a revolution. Or, as soon as someone called out the Fleet, a massacre. She didn't know why Jirin's group was egging on the crowd, but the results wouldn't be good.
She had to do something. "No!" she shouted, surprising all three crowds and herself. She hastily sheathed her vibroblades and held up her weaponless hands. "Violence isn't going to solve anything, people! We just have to get off the planet before the vaccines deactivate." Mission, who knew herself to be as Force-free as you could be, could actually feel the mood of the crowd lighten a bit. Maybe she could keep this from getting out of control.
"Oh, sure, you're going to listen to the Twi'lek?" Jirin sneered, and Mission again had to remind herself that it wasn't Jan. "She and that Republic officer killed five of our group on their way here! And think about it, when did the virus get worse? It was right after the two of them got here! They're working for the Republic!"
Mission suddenly felt every eye on her, and was terrifyingly conscious of the fact that they were all Human and she was not. The brave words she'd planned in her head dried up and she couldn't force them out. The crowd started muttering again.
"You're wrong, Jirin," a voice said from the crowd. Jan walked toward Mission, and her knees almost went out in relief. She wasn't alone. "Mission didn't do this. She helped us build that infirmary. She helped me tend the hifa. Captain Onasi is one of us, or don't you remember? He dug through the rubble like we all did, looking for his family after the attack. He served with our father in the Republic Fleet and kept the Mandalorians from killing all of us. Don't blame them now for what's happened." Jan never raised his voice, never shouted to the crowd, but his words carried and the crowd quieted.
Suddenly, a single blaster bolt rang out from somewhere. She didn't know which group had fired first, but it was all the excuse anyone needed to attack. Mission instinctively ducked, and the three groups fell on each other with blades and blasters.
Jan grabbed her arm. "We have to keep them from killing the Ithorians!" he shouted. "They'll all be killed if we don't stop them!"
Mission handed him her shock stick. "Here, you can stun people with this." He disappeared into the crowd. Mission couldn't believe she was helping protect the bastards who had made Carth sick, but she knew Jan was right—the mob wasn't rational. The Republic courts would put everyone on a prison planet for treason if the crowd wasn't stopped. Mission rummaged through her carrysack, one eye on the dusty battle ahead of her, and pulled out a concussion grenade.
"No, you don't!" one of Jirin's group, a woman, shouted, and Mission felt a sudden pain in her left shoulder before it went abruptly numb. She smelled burnt nerfhide and flesh. The woman was aiming her blaster again, and Mission was exposed against the city wall.
A dart flew from the left and hit the woman in the side. She clutched at it, then abruptly fell over. Mission saw an Ithorian holding a dartgun. It nodded gravely to her and turned back to the crowd. Mission flung her grenade toward the center of the mass of people and ran the other direction. The boom flipped her off her feet anyway, and she landed head-first in a pile of building supplies. She lay there for a long minute, staring fuzzily at hypospanners and autowelders, before pushing herself up with her right arm. Her left arm was starting to hurt, but she felt curiously disassociated from the pain, as though she was just observing someone else. She thought that was probably a bad sign.
The grenade had knocked several of the crowd down, and they seemed to have lost some of their intensity when they got back up. They were starting to mill around, looking confused. Jirin's group had backed up Dr. Coran and Director Ando to the smoking wall of the infirmary. Jan and an Ithorian were standing with them. Dr. Coran had only a laser scalpel and Jan and Ando had only shock sticks to defend themselves. Mission raced over, vibroblade out, and slashed at the waist of the nearest attacker. It was Jirin. He clutched his side and his blaster rifle fell from his hands. One of his companions raised his own blade above her head, and Mission knew she was going to die.
She heard several loud pops behind her, and the air suddenly filled with greenish smoke. The shadow of a shuttle covered the square. Gas bombs, she thought, just before everything went black.