Chapter 9

Coruscant – the peak of Umate

Hundreds of people surrounded the centre of Monument Plaza, straining to touch the peak of Umate. The only remaining uncovered peak of the Manari Mountains, the peak poked through the metallic ground that made up Coruscant's uppermost level. Local geologists predicted that within fifty years, it might be covered too. The rugged stone brought flocks of tourists to gawk at the sight of a planet almost completely covered by its city. Visitors of hundreds of species were gathered in the park, or were wandering through the buildings that surrounded the peak. Those lucky enough to get within touching distance of the peak were straining to feel the hard rock, adding their fingers smoothing effects to the lighter ring that had formed around the top of the mound.

Around the plaza, forming a square around the peak, were four huge conical towers, made of metal, stone and glass. At the plaza's northern entrance, two statues of roaring reeks loomed, spitting water into a trench that ran around the entire plaza. A series of small benches surrounded the structures, each with a different design etched into their surfaces.

Mark Antilles sat on one of the benches, nibbling at the box of biscuits that sat beside him and glancing around at the pedestrians. He had grown up in the dark streets of Taris, had learned to fly in the canyons of the Taris citywide landscape. An ecumenopolitan environment was not new to him. Yet somehow, Coruscant felt totally alien from Taris. Perhaps that was simply because the planet seemed complete. The Taris buildings were falling apart from the broken atmosphere and major disrepair, while Coruscant always seemed to be building further skyward. That, combined with the endless foot traffic that never seemed to stop.

Mark's eyes studied the people around him, analytically running them through a mental list of known criminals and checking them for threats. Humans, Twi'leks, Togruta, Ortolan, Nautolaun, Mirialan and even Mon Calamari walked towards the gates, no doubt heading towards the peak of the mountain to touch it. Most were civilians; harmless. A few parents carried their children on their shoulders. Two large Herglic were hanging around the northern edge of the plaza, guarding a well-dressed Sinisteen. His eyes, trained to spot hidden weapons on the streets of Taris, spotted the blasters beneath their long coats and the rings that could be knuckle dusters. They walked along the edge of the plaza, entering one of the restaurants.

Mark glanced behind him into the nearest of the cone-shaped structures. In the centre was a small fountain, a depiction of the former Chancellor Kirames Kaj. This particular fountain had become a favourite for youngsters to throw low value credit chips into, something to do with making a wish. It varied from culture to culture. Some people treated the childish habit like a sacrifice to the dead. For others, it was simple fun.

Footfalls approaching him made him look up, and he smiled at the young man approaching him. Elen Marth was one of the few new recruits to Mark's squadron. Between him, Nova Starrox and Kira Kath, Mark had his hands full trying to get them up to the standards he held all his pilots at. After Malastare Narrows, Mark had needed to almost completely rebuild his squadron of pilots, having taken losses during the skirmish against Admiral Trench.

Although he, Pilios and the few survivors had been offered their pick of the Republic Naval Academy, Mark had gone and found new pilots the same way that his squadron had for years. Some came from the ranks of their retired comrades. Some came from reliable friend's recommendations. And some had been picked from the racing circuit. But there had still been enough holes amongst his pilots that he had chosen these three pilots to join him. Well, four if you counted Muu Daken, but he had been one of the ones referred to by a friend.

"Hey boss!", Elen grinned at him, plonking himself down on the bench beside Mark and handing him a datacard reader, "I have the information you asked for."

"Good.", Mark nodded. He quickly scanned the reader, then glanced across the plaza at where Honey Grassi and Kira Kath were blending in with a group of civilians on a guided tour. Another glace up at the top of one of the nearby buildings, and he saw the 'Crusader's full-faced helmet appear, sniper rifle at the ready. Surreptitiously, he clicked the commlink in his collar, "Crusader, how do things look?"

The man's heavily modulated voice came through the tiny microphone, deep and resonate, "Things look good, boss. I spotted your contact at the South entrance. He's headed for one of the benches there."

Mark nodded, and gestured for Elen to stand up and follow him. He took his time walking around the plaza, chatting with Elen about the maintenance of the Gladbrons when they got back to base. Finally, he spotted his target. Sitting on the edge of a fountain inside the south-east cone-shaped structure was a bearded man. He was dressed appropriately enough, trousers and a light shirt with a ragged jacket folded up beside him. His hair had gone greyer since Mark had last seen him, nearly three years ago now. The Taris-trained eyes saw how the man's hand hovered unconsciously near the jacket, and Mark was willing to bet that a blaster was concealed inside its folds. A duffle sat was on the ground by the man's feet, dusty and battered.

His companion stared at the man in amazement. "This guy used to fly with you?"

Mark chuckled at that. Indeed, the man did not look like a Republic pilot. But he had left a year before Mark had decided to join with the Republic, retiring away on a world in the middle of nowhere. Even during the time he had been with Mark's squadron, Rogers 'Rigger' Machael had been dishevelled and grubby. But his skill behind a Gladbron's yoke more than made up for his lack of personal hygiene.

"I am surprised you came.", Rigger said as they approached. He extended a hand to Mark, and they shook.

"I was surprised to receive your comm. I heard I've become a bit of a pariah since Malastare Narrows.", Mark replied.

Rigger tightened his grip on Mark's hand. "That's one way to put it. Both Gundrine and Mistint came around to tell me what happened. You made an interesting call, joining up with the Republic. But I see why you did at the time. And don't worry about the others. They'll come around."

Releasing the hand, Mark gestured to Elen, "This is Elen Marth. He took over as Green Three's pilot. Elen, meet Rigger Machael. As I just stated, you have his old callsign. Speaking of which, I thought you retired from this line of work, Rigger."

The man grinned, "I did. Got myself a lovely piece of land on Manon. Well, in Manon. Beneath Manon? Doesn't matter. I was skulking around the one of the tap caff's, a place called the Bloated Mynock, when I heard something. Seemed like intel of the likes you would find important. You and you alone, I mean."

"Still don't trust the Republic, hey?", Mark tilted his head to the left. He didn't really blame Rigger for his scepticism. The man had been a wanted smuggler when the former leader of the squad had recruited him.

Rigger looked up at Mark questioningly, "Do you?"

Not waiting for an answer, he pulled the duffle up onto the fountain lip and unzipped it, pulling out an old datapad in a cracked casing. Keying it on, he swiped through a few pages before passing it over. Mark studied the flickering page cautiously. It seemed to be a bounty request. But he had already seen the request for Trav-iss Torn. This was nothing like that one. It was… wait a minute.

"Are they… removing Trav-iss Torn's bounty?", he asked Rigger. "That doesn't seem like something any bounty guild would do without good cause."

Rigger gave a short bark. "I saw the original bounty, the one with your name on it. Quite a price you had on your head. Decided to keep tabs on you. Whoever posted that request reconsidered twenty minutes after you left Shili space. They seemed to know that Trav-iss Torn didn't leave with you."

Mark searched his memory. There had only been two bounty hunters that had attacked them in Reppli, and they were in the cells of the Shili Security Force, waiting to be transferred to a Republic Prison. But several of the Togrutan soldiers had mechanical assistants or partners – droids that could access the local crime databases. Mechanical spies weren't uncommon for information brokers. He tapped his fingers across his knees restlessly. "Someone got a feed from one of the security droids, I would bet. Had tabs on us. That trick is a favourite of the Information Guild, right?"

"Seems so.", Rigger nodded. "Could have been a satellite though. Since the Mining Guild moved in, Shili space has been full of satellites."

"But who in the Information Guild would be against Senator Trav-iss?", Elen asked, sounding reluctant to stop their spitballing, "Until you find out who, then your theory has a hole in it."

"Doesn't need to be the Information Guild.", Mark nibbled his lip. "My sources there keep an eye on each other and would warn us. Anyone with the resources could rig a program to grab bits and pieces from security droids and get glimpses of their visual memories."

"Then our suspect pool got a lot larger.", Elen stated, folding his arms across his chest. "We can't find who gave the bounty if we can't figure out who cancelled it."

Mark nodded in hesitant agreement. Elen had been working on becoming an Intelligence asset for the Navy, like himself. His strength was legality. Elen knew everything that could make a case slip through the justice system. That in itself had assisted the Fifth fleet on more than on occasion. And unfortunately, he was right this time too.

Rigger turned to his replacement, "What exactly would you need to prove that?"

"Mostly just hard evidence.", Elen replied, as though that was the easiest thing in the galaxy to find, "A dataspike would grab what we needed off the servers, and an astromech could sort out the information to find the records of the bounty. You would need to find the precise person who placed the bounty to prove their involvement. But the Bounty Hunter Guild will be keeping their information guarded well. You either need to get into one of their depots, or find a bounty hunter and make them talk. Neither option is great. Finding someone with the ability to get through the Guilds encryptions is tricky enough, but fighting through the Bounty Hunters? That is suicide."

A chime came from Rigger's datapad.

"Those encryptions are only hard if you use Republic spyware.", Rigger interrupted, glancing down at the device, "According to my instruments, a bounty just replaced the first one. This one is targeting someone named… Riyo Chuchi? Not sure why, just says that she is a political power. Never heard of the lass meself. Have you, Captain?"

"I just spent the best part of a fortnight protecting her. She took over Trav-iss' position.", Mark told his former pilot. He glanced around him at the pedestrians, looking for immediate threats. The ecumapopolis that was Coruscant was full of Bounty Hunter's looking for a quick score. If they found out that their target was a young girl, they might just try to get through the protective detail covering her. He needed to tell Talos, who had taken over Chuchi's security until Pantora could send new guards.

But something nagged at him. Turning, he nodded to Elen again, "If we went to Manon, could we get a signal to the bounty's source?"

"In theory, sir.", Elen replied. "But the problem is that we simply cannot go to Manon. It isn't exactly on friendly terms with the Republic at the moment. Count Dooku's Confederacy has blockaded that entire corner of space."

A sharp stab of pain raced through Mark's leg, and he glanced down to see that he had driven his fist into his knee. The Confederacy of Independent Systems was making things difficult for everyone. Outwardly peaceful, they were making their way down some of the galaxies most influential hyperspace lanes, persuading the planets along them to join their new government. With each planet they convinced, the further their blockade's spread. Even now, the blockade had taken over most of the Theorum Trade Route, putting it on the newest list of no-fly zones for any Republic aligned pilot. For now, the Theorum was a political hot spot.

"We need someone to go in who won't bring attention to themselves.", he said, fingering his chin. "Someone who is skilled at covert espionage and can crack a Guild's security."

"Got any ideas?", Elen asked.

Beside them, Rigger suddenly sat up straighter. "I was recently talking to Aftress Farr. He mentioned a Jedi you once flew beside. Could he do it?"

Mark nodded grimly. Aftress Farr had been the co-pilot to Matron Trass before he had unexpectedly retired after the Battle at Malastare Narrows. He would have seen the crazy padawan in action, and probably overstated the drama.

"I can ask him.", Mark nodded, "For now, you had better get out of here, Rigger. I'll organise a transport for you."

"A long-range starfighter would be better.", Rigger said, shrugging. "Anything like that available?"

Mark nodded. He knew that the academy had a few prototype starships. There was a BT-series reconnaissance starfighter that he would be able gift to his friend. He jotted down a location and time for a drop and gave Rigger his datapad back. They said their goodbyes, and Rigger left the plaza.

Mark pressed his collar commlink, "Crusader, Honey, Kira, get back to base. I'm going to the airfield."

Teetee Minau, Minister of Runna, stared up at the holoprojector as the flickering image of Count Rellus appeared before him. He was secreting the transmission, taking it in the relative isolation of his family's hunting lodge deep in the mountains near Zenton. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as his personal suite in Fortress, but the lodge was isolated and quiet. It was perfect for these calls to Rellus.

The Count stared down at the minister, his dark eyes glaring with menace. His voice was as calm and collected as always, yet still felt as deadly as a drawn blade. "Minister Minau. I believe that you have been trying to contact me. I apologise for delaying my reply. I had pressing business to attend to. What seems to be the problem?"

"The problem, Rellus, is that Chi Cho remains the Chairman. You promised me that he would be removed from power. You promised that I would take his place."

"And I changed my mind. With Trav-iss Torn dead, I would rather you take his place. I needed someone to ensure I had influence over your people. As a Senator, you can now influence the entire Republic instead."

Minau considered that for a moment. Trav-iss, for all his ridiculous faults, had been powerful enough to strongly influence Chi Cho's decisions, including the one sending him to Coruscant to speak with the Senate. Surely that had to be related to his lofty political position and ties to Coruscant. Yes, that would suit Minau well. He could gain the prestige he had always craved, have the adoration of his people. Finally, they would see how amazing he truly was.

"I think that will certainly do, Count.", he smiled thinly, "Now what is it that you want me to do?"

"For now, nothing.", Rellus said, "But soon, you will need to begin lobbying for the position. Without you, my entire plan will fail. Once you deliver Pantora to me, then I can ensure your reign."

The hologram flickered out, and Teetee smiled to himself. Chairman Minau, he thought with a bit of sullen reconsideration, sounded weak now. But Senator Minau, yes, that sounded far more musical to his ears. Wait, what about Chancellor Minau? Oh, Rellus was indeed right. This path would indeed be far more rewarding. Soon, the galaxy would belong to him, and not even realise it.