Chapter Twenty
Under the early morning light of a new day, Councilor Leia Organa Solo surveyed the wrecked safehouse apartment with awed detachment, managing to suppress the low whistle she was sure she'd picked up from Han. Given all the years Leia served with the Rebellion, she was hardly unaccustomed to battle damage; being a dignitary didn't make her immune to the dangers of combat, and she had served as a soldier when needed. Still, it had been some time since she'd been in a lightfight, and longer still since she'd stuck around to investigate the results of high-grade blasters up close.
The room still stank of ozone and tibanna gas effluent.
Next to her, one of the people who had been in that room and survived grimaced, holding a hand over the bacta patch he still had affixed to his chest. "Next, Trader Jade took us into cover in the kitchen," Madine nodded over to one of the few parts of the apartment that was still recognizable. "She must have remembered that the material here was reinforced to stand up to heavy blaster fire. Or made a very lucky guess. The suborned Constabulary speeders wrecked everything else on this floor with their opening barrage, and our quarry must have escaped in the confusion. After that Kapp and Agent Wessiri made a tactical entry and opened up on the enemy to clear the bought cops out."
"With our Noghri team," Iella added modestly. "Kapp and the Noghri did the hard work." Iella glanced at Leia's Noghri bodyguard, Cakhmaim, but Cakhmaim was studiously silent and still. Only Leia could feel his quiet approval of his kinsmen's actions.
"How'd you get here so fast?" Madine asked curiously. "You got here ahead of my commandos, and I didn't call you."
"No, but Miss Jade contacted General Cracken," Iella said. "We'd tracked Eliezer to Coruscant; I pulled a few of his computer programs off the prison hardware and we got lucky and found one of them active here; we were already on-world to investigate. The program lit up on our tracker, but we couldn't narrow it down to a specific location other than 'somewhere on Coruscant.' It wasn't even five minutes later that Jade called to tell Cracken that she thought there was an infiltration at an old Imperial facility; he put two and two together."
"Have we had any luck tracking down Vorru, Eliezer, and the Force-adept?" Leia asked.
Iella's expression darkened. "No. They escaped on an airspeeder, and then Eliezer did something to scramble Coruscant's traffic control computers. It randomly reassigned identifying tags to all vehicles in Argosy District, and in two of the neighboring districts besides. Traffic control's admin thinks he'll be able to sort it out in two or three weeks. It's probably not worth the effort, but we might be able to use it to identify their ship."
Madine and Leia both frowned. "Clever," Leia said. "So what now, then?" She gestured at the hole where the building's external wall had been. "I'm going to be playing peacemaker between local authorities and the New Republic government for the next week. The District Comptroller is furious and wants to know how and why the local Constabulary ended up in a running fight with the New Republic military, complete with A-wings running close air support through one of the busier streets on this side of the planet."
Coruscant's local politics could be a nightmare, which was why despite the changeover from Empire to Republic (and before that, from Republic to Empire), municipal government on the planet had remained effectively unchanged for centuries. Each district had its own rules, and even someone like Leia, as well-versed in galactic politics as anyone in that galaxy, found Coruscant's local political traditions arcane.
"So do I," Madine growled.
"I think that's an easy enough question to answer," Iella said. "Vorru has ties to Black Sun, and Black Sun makes a point of infiltrating local governments and police services everywhere they do business, especially Coruscant. It wouldn't surprise me if a third of the Constabulary in Argosy District receives supplemental income from Black Sun. The better question," she mused thoughtfully, "is what did Vorru use to pay for that support? Black Sun doesn't work for credit or loyalty alone."
"I can answer that question," said a new voice from the floor above. The stairs between the three floors of the lofted apartment had survived more or less intact, but General Cracken descended them gingerly, with the light tread of a professional spy. "The techs just finished their examination of the terminal upstairs, and have started sorting through the networks that they infiltrated from it." The older man's expression was pale, and Leia felt her guts tighten at the sight of Airen Cracken looking anything less than in total equanimity. "It linked directly into what used to be the Imperial banking establishment, among other things." He sighed. "Vorru and Eliezer stole something on the order of fifty-eight billion credits."
Leia felt her mouth drop open. "What?"
Cracken nodded miserably. "Fifty-eight billion. Eliezer routed it offworld through the HoloNet with about fifty million independent, automated transactions. It's really a remarkable piece of work. I think we'll be able to hunt some of it down, but not that much." He shook his head, his expression turning to one of wry amazement. "Apparently, the Empire buried a handful of credit accounts after seizing them upon the death of their original owners. They all got quietly added to Imperial Intelligence's black budget. Isard's doing, no doubt. The account that Eliezer emptied originally belonged to Underlord Xizor of Black Sun."
Leia's mouth closed with an angry click. She'd had the misfortune of meeting Xizor while Han had been in carbonite. But Xizor had died not long after, when in a fit of pique Darth Vader had ordered Xizor's personal Skyhook destroyed and Executor scattered its debris across Coruscant's orbit.
Xizor had been an extraordinarily wealthy man, both because of his legal and his illegal businesses. His legal business, Xizor Transport Systems, had been broken up by the Empire and its assets seized. A fair number of its inheritor companies were now members of the Smugglers' Alliance.
"You said a handful of credit accounts? There was more than one?" Iella asked curiously.
"There were, but the others were all already closed. I've got a team of forensic accountants looking into it. It looks like what was left of the Motti family fortune and Darth Vader's personal fortune were all stashed in there too, but either Isard spent it all or someone else had already gotten to them before Eliezer got here."
Cracken's eyes flicked meaningfully to Leia when he mentioned Vader. Leia paled. Vader's personal fortune?
Cracken's gaze didn't linger over Leia for more than a moment. He might know of her genetic parentage—many of the New Republic's inner circle did, at this point—but he'd never made a point of it in the past. "So," he continued tiredly. "We've now got Vorru, Tavira, Eliezer, and this unnamed Force-adept working together, with a Star Destroyer, unlimited access to the HoloNet, and fifty-eight billion credits to their name." He rubbed his temple. "Ugh."
Leia felt her stomach tighten. Put that way, it sounded disastrous. "So what do we do?"
"I'm working on leads," Iella said. "This isn't a total disaster. If Jade hadn't been alerted to the breach here, I wouldn't have clocked Vorru and we still wouldn't know he escaped Kessel again. Vorru is our best lead I think. I know he was on Kessel not that long ago; I had to put him there so he wouldn't start working on people who owed him favors. I can take a team to Kessel and investigate the circumstances surrounding his escape. Maybe I can dig into his communications history there, try to figure out what else he's planning." She frowned. "I'll need a fast ship to get out to Kessel as quickly as possible, and I'll need a fringer who's more familiar with the planet than me."
Leia felt her stomach tighten even more, but put that way there was no avoiding it. "I'll ask Han," she sighed, regretting every syllable. "He knows Moruth Doole personally from his smuggler days, and you can't find a faster ship than the Falcon."
Iella's gaze was sympathetic, but she knew better than to turn down the offer. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Leia said tiredly. There was always something to pull one or the other of them away… "Just bring Han back in one piece."
"You should also ask Miss Jade to accompany you," Madine suggested. The others turned to him, and he shrugged. "She's good in a fight, and she's invested in this now."
"I agree. You're going to need someone to even the odds against their Force user, and Luke has already gone off to rejoin the Rogues in case this Force adept shows up again there," added Leia.
"It does make sense," said Cracken. "I can't believe Vorru would stay on-world after almost getting caught here. He got what he came for—he'll be off to safer grounds where he can spend his new fortune, especially if he doesn't know how we tracked him down to start with."
Leia nodded at Iella. "You two are going to be working together. It seems like a good opportunity to develop your partnership."
"Where is Miss Jade?" asked Cracken with a frown.
Leia remembered Mara's expression when Leia had arrived; finding her dazedly observing the New Republic commandos as they searched every inch of the apartment. They had been tearing into a closet filled with the armor of the Emperor's Hand, sized for an adolescent. The haunted look in her eyes… "I sent her home," Leia said firmly. "She needed to rest." She crossed her arms in a way she'd learned drew all attention to her and expressed displeasure. "There is something else we must discuss. Why exactly was it that I had to find out about all this from the Holonews? Did you not think to comm me last night?" she asked archly.
Cracken and Madine exchanged a very meaningful glance, then both looked at Iella, apparently throwing her under that particular hoverbus. Iella's expression paled as she regarded their expressions and visibly braced herself before answering.
Leia hid a smile. It was good to know that she could still intimidate Generals with the merest hint of displeasure. If only that extended to Han, but perhaps reprobate Corellian ex-Generals were immune.
"Madam Councilor, please forgive me—I just sneak around and write intelligence briefs. I figure with the twins and your job you need all the sleep you can get," said Iella cautiously.
Leia's eyes narrowed. "Do all Corellians interpret directives as creatively as possible, or is it just the ones who dare defy the Diktat?"
"That's a highly general statement Madam Councilor," Iella said, mouth quirking briefly into a smile. "I couldn't possibly be expected to comment on it. Although if a homemade rhyschate appears at your apartment later today, you might view it as a peace offering."
"I'll take it," Leia smiled back, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "With you borrowing my husband for your expedition, I'm going to be in want of good home cooking."
It was midday, and the bright noontime sun shone through the pillars that lined either side of the broad open space, down through the slightly shaded glass roof. There were distant sounds beyond, repulsorlifts and starship engines, humming through the sky to their myriad of destinations. Closer, there were voices, instructions, the sense of motion and of meditation, of energy and potential.
"Conserve your movements," a mature male voice said firmly, with the sense of long experience in the art of instruction. "The lightsaber is about grace, not power, and grace is found in your wrists, not your arms."
The youth receiving the education—a boy, perhaps nine years old—had white-blonde hair. He was tall and powerfully built for a child his age, lanky and awkward. The boy followed the instructions as best he could, but clearly didn't know exactly what his teacher intended for him to learn. "I don't understand," he complained, his voice pitched with the whine of an adolescent.
"Move as I do, young one. Stretch out and feel the Force. We will show you the way."
Mara woke with a pounding headache. She was still fully dressed from the night before, her lightsaber set next to her on her nightstand. With a groan she sat up.
She was halfway through with her morning preparations, showered and dressed and working through breakfast—a soothingly anodyne Imperial ration bar she'd pulled out of one of her stashes—when the dream finally returned to her consciousness. She'd had a few confusing dreams after missions, but she'd had a starring role in most of them. In this one, it had been like looking through a holoprojector, a mere observer.
She took a bite out of the ration bar. It didn't taste like much, but she knew from experience that it'd satiate her need for food for the entire morning, and she didn't have the appetite or the desire for social camouflage exemplified at Woonseer's. With Skywalker offworld, the place had lost much of its appeal. It was odd, how a sanctuary when she wished solitude, so often her default state, suddenly became unappealing when she was without company.
She wondered what Luke would say about…
About the dream, she meant…
Mara froze, her ration bar hovering halfway towards her mouth. She and Skywalker had many conversations during their meetings at the Cafe and their training sessions, and she distinctly remembered him telling her about his visions during his meditations. A man and a boy in lightsaber training. The man giving instruction, the boy complaining, and Skywalker being at a loss as to what the Force was trying to communicate.
Kriffing wonderful. She spends a little bit of time with the Jedi and now she was the one getting his damned Force visions with no way to tweak context menus or change the blasted channel. He had warned her that her Force intuition would grow stronger, but visions and dreams were Jedi business! And if she knew anything, it was that she was no Jedi, the words emphatically slotting into her psyche as if to confirm her tainted spirit and unsavory history.
Sighing, she rubbed her temple and took another bite of the ration bar. Well, she supposed, the best place to start, as with any investigation, was by reviewing the available facts. She thought about the two people in the vision, running through a Force memory enhancement technique, focusing on faces and features…
Her eyes widened. Scrambling for her jacket, she slung it over her shoulders and raced out the door.
Luckily, the museum pass that Leia had given Mara still worked. Unluckily, Mara had arrived at the museum during the morning rush. Children and teachers swirled around, conducting traffic to exhibits as she tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to make haste through the flood of bodies. She stepped into and through the crowd, dodging passers-by and darting through openings when they presented themselves. It took considerably longer to make her way than it had the last time she had come here.
The doors to the Jedi exhibit were closed, but as before they opened dutifully for her. She swept down the darkened corridor, her feet clicking against the stone floor and into the darkened, cobweb-ridden museum. She didn't pause to meander, but made a straight-line beeline down the same path she had taken the last time she was here, this time giving in to the temptation to clear her path of dangling spiderwebs with her lightsaber. It only took her a few minutes to return to the statue of Ranik Solusar. The faceless man stood there, silent, but as she lingered the exhibit triggered and the hologram of the man was projected, smaller than the statue but large enough for a close examination, on the floor next to her.
"Ranik Solusar, Jedi Master. He was known for his service in the Outer Rim, combating piracy and misuse of the Force."
Ranik Solusar was tall, with a square jaw. In the holo he was smiling, which matched laugh-lines that crinkled his face. As in her dream, he had white hair despite looking too young for it. There wasn't any doubt—it was the same man.
"Shavit," Mara muttered. It was one thing if she'd been wrong. But she hadn't been, she'd been right, which meant the dream had been Force-inspired. And that was most emphatically a Jedi thing. She frowned, scrolling through the other data available on the exhibit idly as she resolutely ignored the implications.
RANIK SOLUSAR. HUMAN. BORN IN LASLOW, ON SOLON, ON 9\8\45, PRE-EMPIRE DATE. ATTENDED JEDI TRAINING CENTER ON SOLON 2\15\37 TO 8\14\27 PE. PRIVATE JEDI TRAINING BEGUN 9\27 PE WITH JEDI MASTER THOLME. GRANTED TITLE JEDI KNIGHT 12\14\23 PE. JOINED TEAM OF ANTARIAN RANGERS COMBATING BLACK SUN EXPANSION IN COR'RIC SECTOR 2\23 to 5\22 PE. LED TEAM OF ANTARIAN RANGERS COMBATING BLACK SUN PRESENCE IN KIBLINI SECTOR, 2\21 TO 7\19 PE. GRANTED TITLE JEDI MASTER 9\9\17 PE. SERVED AS INSTRUCTOR ABOARD JEDI TRAINING VESSEL MAY'THANA 10\17 TO 6\15 PE. GRANTED LEAVE OF ABSENCE FROM JEDI ORDER 8\15 TO 5\7 PE. RETURNED TO JEDI ORDER 5\7 PE. SERVED AS INSTRUCTOR AT JEDI TRAINING CENTER ON SOLON, 5\7 PE TO 11\1 PE. DEATH REPORTED BY DARTH VADER ON NEFTALI, 10\2, STANDARD IMPERIAL RECKONING. HIGHLIGHTS SUMMARY ENDS.
Mara ran her hands through her hair, frustrated. Okay, so the Force was giving both her and Luke a vision, specifically of a dead Jedi Master, Ranik Solusar, and a student. Receiving it herself wasn't quite ideal, but unless she wanted to hide in a Ysalamiri bubble the Force wasn't giving her much of a choice in the matter. But why? There had to be something important in the timing; the dream had to be useful somehow.
Maybe Wessiri could help her sort it out. After all, an NRI operative would have access to records and information that Mara lacked. Wasn't that the whole point of their prospective partnership? She searched for her com while grabbing at Solusar's personal belongings and taking what she could.
"Wessiri," the comlink reported when the connection was made.
"Agent Wessiri, this is Mara Jade. I need to talk to you. Can we meet?"
Iella's apartment didn't feel like home. It had been years since she had actually lived on Coruscant. After she and Corran had crossed Imperial Intelligence and been forced to split up and flee Corellia, she'd made Coruscant her refuge. She and Diric had blended in with the crowd, living quiet, reasonably prosperous, anonymous lives with the throngs of people, many of whom were barely aware of anything outside of the kilometer radius around their house. They'd barely realized the Republic had fallen and the Empire had risen, and it would have been so easy to just live that quiet, prosperous life.
But she'd never been one to tolerate tyranny, even if it meant a life of comfort.
The apartment had all the accoutrements of a home. There were several different hand-sketched drawings of Corellian scenery on the walls, only one of which Iella had ever had the opportunity to see with her own eyes. They had been gifts from Wedge, a first attempt at taking her sterile apartment and transforming it into something more. A holo of Corran and Mirax sat on the table in the middle of the living room in pride of place, her former CorSec partner and his smuggler wife. On the other table was an old holo of Wedge and his comrades from their time on Hoth. Luke Skywalker had his arm slung around Wedge's shoulders, the two of them grinning at something Dack had said, while Hobbie, Tycho, Zev, and Wes laughed in the background, all wearing their orange flight suits.
Even with the trappings of a home, it wasn't. A home was more than a place to sleep, it was a place to belong, with love and friends and routine. With neighbors, and family.
She picked up the last holo in the apartment. Diric had been a good man, patient and kind and trusting, but not naive. He had been older than she was, possessing enough family wealth to be comfortable, but without the entitlement that so often came with privilege. Their love hadn't ever been passionate, but she hadn't been looking for passion. Their apartments on Corellia and Coruscant had been home.
Ysanne Isard had killed him.
However driven she had been before Diric's death, however incapable she had been of just quietly living well, after Diric had died, the way he had died, she had been a single-minded torpedo aiming to burn her way through the Empire and Isard. The only thing that had kept her from self-immolating was Wedge, his hand finding hers, letting her know that she could live again, someday.
Dreaming of a new life after the Empire, a home she and Wedge would make together, didn't mean she burned any less hot, though. Which was why her apartment had a fully-secured intelligence suite, including two full-access terminals. The attached weapons locker wasn't really her style—she preferred to outthink her enemies than outfight them—but it was better to be safe than sorry.
The fact that she came here more often to work than to spend time with Wedge was probably the other reason it didn't feel like a home. Not all that different from the burned-out apartment she'd spent much of the previous day in, really.
There was a chime at the door and she checked the security monitor. Mara Jade was outside, glancing down the hallway in each direction to make sure she hadn't been followed. Iella buzzed her in.
Mara was shorter than Iella, brimming with focused energy. She glanced around the apartment, drinking in the surroundings, her eyes lingering over first the holo of Diric, then the holo of Wedge and the Rogues—her back stiffened slightly, Iella noted curiously—and then Mara focused on her. "We didn't really get a chance to really introduce ourselves," Mara said cautiously. "I'm Mara Jade."
Iella laughed and extended her hand. Mara took it. "Hello, Mara Jade," Iella said with a slight bow of her head. "I'm Iella Wessiri. I hear our bosses have decided that we're going to be working together."
"For the good of the galaxy, I'm sure," Mara replied dryly, visibly relaxing at Iella's informality. "Thank you for the help last night," she continued. "General Madine and I weren't sure what to expect, but a company of the Coruscant Constabulary and three fully loaded combat airspeeders wasn't it."
"You're welcome," Iella replied, guiding Mara to sit on her couch. The furniture was rarely used and stiff to sit on, resisting their weight as she sat across from the former Emperor's Hand. "Thank you for being alert to their presence. Without you, they would've gotten in and out without anyone being the wiser."
"Have you had any luck tracking them down?"
Iella sighed. That had been a battle she never had any chance to win. "No. I'm quite sure they're either offworld or about to be. We considered a temporary blockade of Coruscant, but do you know how many transports arrive and leave this planet every day? Even a temporary blockade would've caused serious shortages of vital goods, and the politicians vetoed the idea. If Vorru hasn't escaped already, he soon will."
Coruscant was an ecumenopolis and couldn't even feed itself; the minimal agriculture the planet did produce was barely sufficient to satisfy the members of the planetary aristocracy who had the wealth and clout to demand truly fresh produce. The wealthiest of the planet's population would be able to eat under a blockade that lasted more than a month; everyone else would starve.
Mara nodded her understanding, a small grimace on her lips.
"I discussed this with Councilor Organa and General Cracken this morning," Iella continued. "I'm going to be traveling to Kessel tomorrow on the Millenium Falcon."
Mara blinked in surprise. "Solo is letting you borrow his ship?"
Iella laughed. "Oh, no certainly not. But he's agreed to ferry us and introduce us to Moruth Doole when we arrive. I want to get there as soon as possible; our lead on Eliezer has just about gone completely cold, and whatever tracks Vorru left during his escape from Kessel might evaporate at any time." She wrinkled her nose. "If we were willing to delay our arrival a day or two we could bring a Star Cruiser as an escort, but that's just too long."
It was a risk, Iella knew, but it was one they had to take. Mara didn't seem either surprised or critical, merely another professional considering a problem.
"The Councilor and General believe that you ought to accompany me," Iella added.
Mara frowned. "I have responsibilities here as the Liaison of the Smugglers' Alliance. Right now I'm our entire administrative apparatus, and I've been fielding questions and concerns from our customers all week—"
"General Cracken has suggested that you might be amenable to a gift. We have a number of espionage-grade protocol droids who would be capable of providing administrative assistance."
Mara quirked an eyebrow in surprise. It was quite a gift. Espionage droids were rare and expensive—the good ones, at least. Ones with good administrative and logistics programming were even more rare. "And in exchange for this gift?"
Iella smiled, folding her arms across her lap as she relaxed into her uncomfortable couch. "I think General Cracken said something about him already owing Karrde, and preferring not to stay in debt for long."
Mara snorted. "If Karrde's mission on Rendili went well, I can assure you that an espionage droid is an inadequate repayment. But all right. I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do, and if we are going to be working partners it would be impolitic at best to let you go off to a place like Kessel alone." She folded her arms across her chest. Mara had quite a gaze, Iella thought, resisting the urge to fiddle with any of the nicknacks she had on her living room table.
"Why don't I tell you everything I already know, then," Iella volunteered, leaning forward towards Mara. "Vorru, the HoloNet slicer, what little I know about the Force adept. Then…" she inclined a finger towards Mara, "you can tell me why exactly you wanted to meet."
Mara regarded her, then nodded.
"So that's it," Iella finished, sighing as she tried to get comfortable. "Our leads on Eliezer have dried up for now. NRI thinks they'll be able to give us some new ones once he starts using his programs to slice the HoloNot again, but until then there's nowhere to go. That leaves just Vorru, and the only thing we really know is that he escaped from Kessel, presumably with Tavira's help. So, Kessel it is."
"How many credits did Vorru and this Eliezer get out of the black accounts?" Mara asked curiously.
"Fifty-eight billion, give or take a few million," Iella said, rubbing her hands over her face wearily. "Enough to buy a fleet of Star Destroyers, or a dozen." She sighed and stood, fetching an amber-colored liquid from the drinks cabinet. The touch of the wood brought back memories—it was the only piece of furniture she had kept from her first apartment on Coruscant, the one she had shared with Diric. She poured two glasses and returned, handing one to Mara. "The Empire had appropriated a few prominent fortunes, including Xizor and Vader, though it looks like Vader's was already gone."
Mara took the drink, pausing midway through a sip when Iella mentioned Vader. "Interesting." She finished her sip slowly and felt the smooth burn of quality whisky, then turned towards Iella. "Maybe Kessel is not our only lead." To Iella's surprise Mara actually looked vaguely abashed. "I think I might have something on the third of the trio."
"The Force adept?" Iella asked, surprised. "We haven't been able to find anything. I've got people scouring the records looking for any reports of an armored man wearing a white mask, but I'm told that I shouldn't get my hopes up." She leaned forward, the stiff couch crinkling under her. "Is this some kind of Force hunch? Luke would get those when we worked together."
Mara's expression tightened at the mention of Luke's name, Iella noted. She filed that fact away for later. "You could say that. I had a dream. Last night, after the fight," Mara admitted.
"A dream?" Iella asked skeptically.
Mara nodded. "Skywalker was having visions that were similar before he left. A man and a boy doing lightsaber training." She took a datapad out of her pack and slid it across the table to Iella, who took it. As the NRI agent surveyed the information, Mara continued. "The man was Ranik Solusar, a Jedi of the old Republic."
"It says here he died on Neftali," Iella said as she finished the quick read. "What does this have to do with our Force adept?"
"The mask he was wearing during our fight," Mara explained. "It looked familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place it until I read that." She nodded at the datapad in Iella's hand. "Neftali has a few notable native animal species, but the most famous is the d'oemir peak bear. White fur, very intelligent, it's been hunted to near extinction. It's known for being extremely protective of its young and for being surprisingly social for a bear species."
Iella understood. "The mask resembled a d'oemir bear?"
Mara nodded. "Yes. Stylized fur, similar eye structure, the jawline was also stylized but still reminiscent. I did some memory enhancement techniques and I'm sure the resemblance was intentional."
"So you think there's a connection to this Ranik Solusar," Iella mused. "Well, let's try something." She stood up and moved over to one of the secure terminals she kept in her apartment—her safehouse, she quietly admitted to herself—and put some information into the terminal. "The database said that Vader reported him dead—do you think he's still alive and that was him in the armor?"
"No," Mara said with certainty. "No, his statue in the Emper—in Palpatine's Jedi museum was faceless. I think that was Palpatine's way of announcing that Vader had killed him." She paused, considering, before continuing thoughtfully. "No, I was thinking about the boy. The Force can be unclear and frustrating but it's also purposeful; it has a reason for showing us what it does, even if we don't know what that reason is." She grimaced. "It tried to warn me during the fight that I shouldn't strike him directly, but I didn't understand that until afterwards."
Iella glanced at her, hearing the self-reproachment in Mara's voice. The computer beeped and she looked back at the screen. "Come here," she said, her tone suddenly hushed with astonishment.
Mara leaned over her shoulder, reading the same information that Iella had already seen. "Yes," she said softly, distantly. "Yes, that's him."
"Kam Solusar," Iella read. "I'm a little surprised he didn't change his name. It says he was part of the Imperial Inquisitorius." She glanced back at Mara, saw a thoughtful and slightly perplexed expression on the other woman's face. "Even now we don't know a lot about the Inquisitors," Iella added. "They were secretive to the extreme, worked only in small cells, and seemed largely autonomous in the Imperial command structure. We're not even sure if they reported to ISB or the Emperor himself. There were long rumors that at least some of them were Force adepts, though."
The former Emperor's Hand's gaze had grown distant, and Iella could almost see her thinking back, considering her old experiences. "I never interacted with them," Mara said. "Perhaps Palpatine kept us separate on purpose, I don't know."
"He may not have wanted to give his Force-strong agents the opportunity to conspire together against him," Iella pointed out. She turned back to the information on Solusar. "There really isn't much that's valuable here, just a name and brief history. He was reported operating on half a dozen different planets in the Rebellion years, but after Endor there's nothing at all. Like most of the Inquisitors, he just vanished."
"That's him," Mara said with certainty. "It makes sense. The vision was of father and son, training in the Force." Her voice faded. "He could have killed me," she admitted softly. "He didn't."
"What do you think that means?" Iella asked cautiously.
"I don't know," said Mara. She reached down to her belt and drew Ranik Solusar's lightsaber, staring at the Jedi's weapon. "I don't know."
The Tevas-kaar examined his armor with a frown. The armor was degraded where the Jedi's lightsaber had struck it, the protection at the elbow worn slightly away. The Saarai-kaar had warned him not to rely on the armor, that not every lightsaber used the technology susceptible to overloads on contact with cortosis, but the risk had been minor and it had paid dividends. He'd won Vorru and Eliezer's escape. His oaths, and the oaths of his order, indebted him to that much.
Lefler's Rose was finally escaping Coruscant, Eliezer's magic getting them clearance to leave despite the continuing high alert. The Tevas-kaar wouldn't be sad to feel Coruscant, with its confusing mess of emotions and dangers, be left behind. Hopefully that would be the last of the tasks he owed Vorru, but he knew better than to expect it was. Besides, they'd be returning to Linuri now, to Tavira, and that was little better.
He closed his eyes as he removed his mask, placing it down on the bed beside him. He was tired, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. But so much had been wrong, for so long, that the sensation was more familiar than unfamiliar; it had become part of the constant rhythm of his life. Ever since the man in the black armor had driven a red lightsaber through his master's chest, ever since he had failed to get away, too frozen by horror and anger and torment, something had always been wrong. There was just nothing he could ever do about it.
It was different, at that moment. It wasn't just wrongness he felt. There was anticipation, too.
But anticipation of what?