Star Wars: Scourge (16 page)

Toro knew all that, Mander realized. Using the steering
block to trap your opponent’s blade was a basic maneuver, and no Jedi would hold it once it became clear that his opponent had that level of control. What was he planning?

“Master,” said Toro, the Force flowing into his voice, “you want to drop your weapon.”

A wave of the Force swept over Mander, and it felt like his mind was a ship, riding up that wave. For an instant he thought this was a reasonable request, and he reduced his pressure on his student’s upper blade. Toro grinned and pressed his assault.

Then suddenly the boat of his mind crested the wave and Mander knew what Toro had tried: he was using the Force to weaken him—a simple mind trick. Mander’s own resolve rose within him, and he pulled back farther, causing Toro to overbalance now and fall toward him, losing the control that his mind trick had temporarily given him. Mander guided his opponent’s lightsaber to the right and stepped away, executing his own push at the last moment and sending his student sprawling. Mander finished his disengage with a twist of his wrist, and Toro’s short-hafted lightsaber flew from his fingers.

Toro rolled to one side and tried to rise, his hand reaching out to pull his lightsaber to him. He stopped when he realized that Mander was standing over him, lightsaber pointed at his apprentice’s chest.

Toro raised both hands in surrender. The match was over.

Mander, however, did not move. He fought the sense of anger within him.

“That was incredibly foolish,” he said, trying to make his words sound less furious and more instructive. He failed utterly. “Do not use the Force like that on me!”

Toro’s eyes went wide, and for the first moment Mander saw something that he had not seen before in his
student—fear. Slowly, Mander Zuma raised his lightsaber and shrank the blade back into its hilt. He reached down and offered Toro his hand. Toro hesitated for a moment, half a second at most, then grasped his Master’s hand and got to his feet.

“I am sorry, Master Zuma,” said Toro Irana. “I did not mean to anger you.”

“You didn’t,” said Mander, and knew it was a lie as soon as the words left his mouth. “You
did
surprise me, which I assume was your intent.”

“It was,” said Toro, looking for forgiveness in Mander’s face. “I didn’t know it had been tried before.”

“It has,” said Mander, his voice softening as he moved from upbraiding to instructing. “And that’s why you don’t use it. When you attempt to use the Force to manipulate the mind of another of similar ability, that attempt is clear to your target, and will probably be met with extreme resistance and retribution. And that includes them using the Force to manipulate you as well.”

“Then,” Toro said—and Mander could see that the young Pantoran was digesting what he had said, looking for a way around it, “I could use it as a tactic against opponents who were not strong in the Force.”

“If you could,” said Mander, “you probably would not need to draw your lightsaber in the first place. ‘The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded.’ ”

“That was a quote,” noted Toro.

“Yes,” said Mander. “From my Master’s Master’s Master. And an apprentice’s mind tricks should not work on the one who taught them to him. Should you find yourself in a situation where someone uses the Force on you in this way, try the Meditation of Emptiness. It clears your mind, and with it the influence of others.”

“I will remember that, Master,” said Toro, smiling now, sure he had been forgiven.

Mander managed to smile back at his student, though his mind was neither empty nor clear on the matter. “Come,” he said. “Let me tell you of the dangers of using the Force in that way. We can spar again later.”

But they never did spar again, and Mander knew that would be the case. Even without his attempt to use the Force, Toro was more than capable of taking Mander’s full measure and the older Jedi knew it. So when the opportunity appeared for Toro Irana to leave the Praxeum on Yavin 4, he took it, and his travels thereafter never took him back. The next time Mander saw him, the young Pantoran was dead, lying still in a Swokes Swokes mortuary, his body ravaged by the effect of the Tempest and a fall from a great height.

Was it his fault? Mander wondered. If he had not reacted in such anger, humiliated the young man, would he have stayed? Would he have been a better Jedi with more training? Or if someone else had trained him? Or did he let the young man pass into the greater universe without sufficient training, because he himself lacked anything else to teach him?

Or, Mander thought, was the fact that Toro took Tempest simply the young Jedi’s own doing? Was he looking for that edge? If Tempest increased the resistance to the Force, then was he looking for something that wouldn’t let others manipulate him as he could manipulate others?

There was a knock and the hatch slid open, shaking Mander from these musings. Lieutenant Lockerbee appeared with two guards. “The commander wishes to see you at your earliest convenience,” he stated. He and his companions did not move from the entrance, indicating that they would wait for that time to arrive.

Mander let out a sigh and pulled himself to his feet, reaching for his formal outer robe. “I was having trouble
meditating anyway,” he said, following Lockerbee as the two guards fell in behind them.

As they approached the command conference deck, the door hissed open and another lieutenant, escorting Reen Irana, emerged, followed by two more guards. There was a brief moment as the two groups sought to move past each other in the hallway without breaking protocol.

“It seems she wants to talk to all of us,” said Reen as she passed near Mander.

“What did she ask you about?” said Mander.

Reen made a face and said, “What do two women always talk about?” Seeing the confusion on his face, she answered her own question: “Men.” And then the changing of the guards was complete and she was gone, back to her own private, guarded suite. Mander was issued into the lieutenant commander’s presence.

The command conference deck was as spartan as Mander remembered it. Only one chair was before the large desk console. Mander noted that the holo-chess game was paused in mid-game to one side. Behind Lieutenant Commander Angela Krin, Endregaad spun slowly on the viewscreen, unchanged from the time when the plague held that world in its grip.

Angela Krin did not look particularly pleased to see Mander, despite the passage of two days.

“It goes without saying that your actions reflect badly on my judgment,” said the lieutenant commander.

“I don’t think it was bad judgment at all,” said Mander calmly.

“You were my personal guests when you first arrived. For three days,” Krin said. “Three days. At the end of that time, you did not proceed out of the system as instructed, but rather immediately attempted to break the medical blockade, landing on a quarantined world.”

“In all fairness,” Mander said calmly, “the blockade
should have been in place to keep people from leaving, thereby spreading the infection. Breaking
into
a plague house pretty much carries its own penalty.”

“You then violate CSA law,” she said, ignoring his comment, “get into a brawl with local thugs, and finally engage in a firefight with those thugs at the site of a previously unreported crash site—which may have been the cause of the plague in the first place.” Angela Krin shook her head and asked, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re welcome.”

Before the lieutenant commander could recover, Mander added quickly, “We delivered medicinal spice to you before your own government could, making it easier to restore the rule of law on Endregaad. We took it upon ourselves to locate a missing Hutt, whose recovery both reflects well on you diplomatically and reduces the number of irritating holomessages you would receive from his concerned family. We took out a swoop gang that was terrorizing the disease-weakened populace, and in addition discovered that a deadly hard spice called Tempest was being smuggled onto the planet. All of which you could do on your own—and commendably well, I may add—were it not for the fact that you were trying to hold everything else together and maintaining a one-ship blockade. By retroactively delegating a few choice decisions in your report back to the CSA, you might even be commended for you initiative and problemsolving abilities.”

Lieutenant Commander Angela Krin looked at Mander long and hard. Surprisingly, she allowed herself a laugh and said, “You are not what I expected from a Jedi.”

“Oddly, you’re not the first person to tell me that,” said Mander.

The CSA officer settled herself into her chair. “The
CSA medicines did arrive, by the way, and are being distributed. The plague is, for all intents and purposes, curtailed.”

“As I said, you had matters well in hand,” said Mander. “We only helped enable your efforts.”

“And this Tempest you found …,” said Angela Krin.

“You know of it?” asked Mander.

“Not directly,” she said, tapping her datapad. “There are reports of this addiction all along this spiral arm. It is coming into the Corporate Worlds from outside, in particular those that have a lot of trade connections. And the increase in the drug’s usage is coupled with an increase in violence. Enough to reduce planetary efficiency numbers.”

“Which makes it a problem the CSA cannot ignore,” said Mander.

The lieutenant commander set down the ’pad and rubbed her face. “So I solve one problem to find a greater one. That Hutt you rescued, he’s not what I expected, either.”

“I’ve noticed,” said Mander.

“He speaks in Basic, and seems almost …” She thought for the word she needed, then settled on “… helpful. He gave a full reporting of his situation, and your contribution. He provided the engine numbers so we can track down the craft. He also provided some samples of this Tempest spice for my people to analyze. He has proved easier to work with than you were.”

“He also plays holo-chess,” said Mander, tilting his head toward the half-completed game.

“He plays very well,” said Angela Krin, “and he was almost complimentary about the CSA’s work against the plague. He said our efforts were sufficient.”

“That is Hutt-speak for ‘thank you,’ ” said Mander. “But where does that leave us?”

Krin smiled now, and it was a conspiratorial smile.

“This strange young Hutt and I had some discussions, and he made clear that he thinks well of you and yours, and would like to see matters resolved positively. I suppose with some careful language in my reports and a commendation for Flight Officer Lockerbee, you would be cleared of charges and released under your own recognizance. As such, you and yours are free to go, with the general and blanket stern warning never to do this again.”

“I will attempt to keep myself off plague-ridden planets with Hutts in the near future,” said Mander, grinning back.

The lieutenant commander touched a few buttons on her desk, and rose. “I do have a message for you. I took the liberty of contacting the Hutts after your return, and sending them a full report. This came in response.” She touched a glyph and the head of one of Vago’s H-3PO units crackled into view, bleached to a white ghost by the transceiver.

The droid burbled, “Popara, may his tongue always be tipped with sweet oils, extends greetings to the
Jeedai
Mander Zuma and his most capable associates in regard to the recovery of his youngest son, Mika, and hopes that you have found the agreement made to your liking. He wishes you to escort his beloved spawn Mika back to Nar Shaddaa, where Popara will be waiting to further reward you for your efforts, as well as speak of additional matters of mutual benefit.” The message cut off without asking for a response.

“I don’t have to warn you,” Angela Krin said gently, “how dangerous it is to deal with Hutts. Even helpful ones.” She looked at her datapad. “I will check out Mika’s information on the spice smuggling. In the meantime, fly careful, Mander Zuma.”

Mander rose and said, “Fly careful, Lieutenant Commander.”

Outside the briefing deck, Mander encountered Eddey Be’ray, flanked not by guards but by a pair of shuttle pilots. “They’re letting me go down and bring back the
New Ambition
. They offered to fetch it themselves, but Reen would not let them know where it is. She’s possessive that way.”

“I understand,” said the Jedi. “Did you have a chance to talk with the lieutenant commander over the past few days?”

Eddey Be’ray shook his head. “Not I. Reen did the talking for the two of us.”

“Reen said they were talking about men,” said Mander.

The Bothan’s mouth spread into a lupine grin, “She’s pulling your chain,” he said. “The CSA was talking with us about a job.”

Mander blinked. The idea that Reen and the Bothan would leave never occurred to him. “A job? What kind of job? Are you taking it?”

Eddey held his palms up and shrugged, and Mander was suddenly aware that they were surrounded by four officers of the CSA. “Let me put it this way,” Mander said, pushing his other questions to the back of his mind. “Are you available for a short haul?”

Again the lupine grin. “I think we can do that, but you’ll have to talk to Reen.”

“Good enough,” said Mander. “When you get back with the ship, we will fit it out for a trip to Nar Shaddaa. Popara wishes us to bring his wayward child home to him, and I think we should oblige.”

Eddey made an indeterminate noise. “All right. I have to admit, though, it’s hard for a Bothan to trust a Hutt. Professional rivalry and all that. But beyond that, there is more going on here than meets the eye.”

“These Hutts have been very helpful. Even you must admit that,” said Mander.

Eddey nodded. “But like Reen says, at their heart, they’re still Hutts. We should be careful with their gifts. You know that saying Mika quoted, ‘Information is like fruit’?”

“Yes?”

“It’s a Bothan saying,” Eddey said. “They stole it.”

“Once upon a time,” Reen said, “the Hutts did not live on Nal Hutta, or on its moon Nar Shaddaa. They lived on planet called Varl, and it was a terrible place, perfect for the Hutts. The world orbited two stars, Evona and Ardos, whom the Hutts said were gods and lovers. Evona was consumed by darkness, and Ardos, in rage, exploded, destroying all the other worlds of their system and blasting the very atmosphere from Varl itself.” She tweaked the descent controls, and the traffic relays glowed green on her console for their final approach. The bow of the
New Ambition
dipped toward their destination.