The Krytos Trap (36 page)

Corran called up a system catalog and shifted to the Lusankya database. Hundreds of names scrolled past too fast for him to read, so at the next prompt he called up his own record. It seemed fairly complete and decidedly up-to-date on data about him since his joining Rogue Squadron.
Tycho’s doing, no doubt
. He highlighted a datalink labeled
Lusankya
and saw a brief history of his stay in the prison. Comparing the date given for his arrival with the dateline on the bottom of the holographic image, he realized he’d been in captivity for six standard weeks. That was longer than he’d been able to count, but his interrogation had been full of lost and warped days.

He highlighted another datalink. Next to the legend “CStatus:” was the code “Rl.” Corran chose it and got a quick explanation floating above the desk.

R1: Resistant in primary phase.

Notes: The subject could not be induced to fire upon positive icons despite being subjected to their hostile intent in simulation. His resistance in the second round of testing occurred sooner than in the previous round. Subject is unsuitable for conversion.

Corran stared at the green words burning in the air above the desk. When he had thought about it, he had assumed the simulator flights he had taken were just part of an interrogative technique. The technique let him fly, which made him feel good. If things were done correctly, that good feeling could be transferred to the Imps, then he’d tell them what they wanted to know. He could imagine it working just that way with any number of folks—they’d be seduced into
giving up information without realizing what they were doing.

Clearly that was not what Isard had been trying to do with him.
She was trying to make me over into a monster, just like Tycho. She wanted me to become a tool she could use against the Alliance
. He shivered and wished he could somehow open his skull and scrape the memories of what he endured from his brain.

His eyes narrowed.
Well, your conditioning didn’t work. I’m not your tool. I’m your enemy, and when I get out of here, I’m going to hurt you
.

He got back to an inquiry prompt and called up Tycho Celchu’s file.
Finally, I’ll have proof!
. Corran summoned up the Lusankya data and had highlighted the “CStatus” code before he really looked at the value listed there.
R1. No way. That was
my
code
. He called up the data and sat back, stunned.

R1: Resistant in primary phase.

Notes: Though the subject’s initial response to Imperial icons was positive, this appeared to be an artifact of his years spent at the Imperial Academy. It did not last long. Subject aggressively attacked Imperial icons. When those icons were overlaid with Alliance datastreams, the contradiction caused the subject to become catatonic. Subject is unsuitable for conversion.

But that’s not possible. Tycho’s a spy. I know it!
Anger tore through Corran and immolated his brain. He wanted to believe that Ysanne Isard had planted this information so he’d not believe Tycho was a spy, but she had no way of knowing he’d get where he was to see it. Besides, his having that knowledge would serve no purpose to her benefit. Even supposing Tycho were killed by the Republic and Corran were allowed to escape and point out that Tycho had been innocent: that would cause strife in the New Republic, but how much? Was it worth the elaborate charade of letting him escape?

Corran got up from the chair and began to pace around
the room. Isard had fed his hatred of Tycho and supported his conviction that Tycho had been a spy. That made no sense. From his file she would have known that he’d have been far more tortured inside by being told that he’d been wrong, and that his mistake was the foundation for Tycho’s treason and murder trial. His own sense of personal honor would have eaten him up inside when he realized an innocent man was going to be convicted of a crime because of his mistake.

Lost in his thoughts, he stepped into the circle in the middle of the floor. The Emperor descended upon him and Corran jumped back. He snarled up at the image and marched on through it. “Quite the mess you created with your Empire, you know.”

Corran realized that Isard’s actions made no sense to him because she was coming at things with an Imperial sense of ethics—ethics that frightened him. She fed his hatred of Tycho because it gave her a button to which she knew he would react. His hatred was unthinking, and she didn’t want him thinking at all.
Once she got me reacting through emotions, she could manipulate me. The problem was that my feelings in favor of the other members of Rogue Squadron overrode my hatred for Tycho. And, maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep down I didn’t doubt him
.

However, there
is
evidence of a spy being connected with Rogue Squadron
. He returned to the datapad and punched in the names of all the personnel in the unit or support staff. They all came up blank. Feeling a bit frustrated, he called up Tycho’s file again and read over the parts concerning his time at Lusankya. The details were pretty much in keeping with what Tycho had told him: he didn’t remember much of his time there, then he was transferred to Akrit’tar. The Lusankya file made reference to his escape from that facility and included a couple of notes about Tycho’s life since then, but didn’t include much detail until data started flowing from the Rogue Squadron source.

Pacing again, Corran began to work things out in his mind. If Tycho was not an Imperial spy, then he wouldn’t have been meeting with Kirtan Loor. As much as Corran was
certain he
had
seen Loor that night, he admitted that having seen the man earlier in the day at the Imperial Palace had rattled him, and could easily have made him misidentify a Duros in a hooded cloak as Loor.

Bits and pieces of things began to drop into place for him. By a simple process of elimination he narrowed down the list of possible spies, and one name rose quickly to the top of the list.
No doubt about it
—
but then, that’s what I thought about Tycho. I have to get clear of here and check some things out. I can’t afford to be wrong this time
.

He looked up as the Emperor towered above him. Corran stepped back. “You know, the sheer ego it takes to plant your image in your own facility is unbelievable. This display does nothing but take up space.” It struck him as another useless bit of Imperial ostentation. Then it occurred to him that just as the cabinets hid the structure that supported the xenoscape, the holograph did do more than one thing.

It stops people from standing on this spot
.

Corran stepped forward and oriented himself to face in the same direction as the Emperor. The world hazed out slightly as the hologram settled down over him, but out of the corner of his left eye he caught the momentary red spark of a low-grade spotting laser being shot at him. It flickered on and off a few more times, then the Emperor’s hologram collapsed around him. As it did so, the circle shifted and began to descend beneath the level of the floor.

The cylindrical hole closed over the top of him, then a man-sized panel slid open in front of him. Through it he saw the entry portal to a luxurious private tunnel-shuttle.
Similar to what we used to move prisoners from the detention center to court on Corellia, though this is much, much nicer
.

The panel closed and the circular platform began to ascend again. Corran found himself once more in the library and smiled. He went to the datapad, got back to the prompt he’d found initially, then shut the holopad off. Picking up the holdout blaster, he inserted himself again into the Emperor’s image. The lift again took him down and he entered the tunnel-shuttle.

In the forward compartment he found a keypad and
controls, but he had no idea how to program destinations. Up at the top he saw a red button marked “Return” and poised his hand above it.
I don’t know where this will take me, or how long it will take for me to get there, but anywhere is better than here
. He hit the button and sat back in the hope he’d enjoy the ride.

34

That’s it, then
. Loor smiled and killed the sound accompanying the holographic images of Nawara Ven’s press conference. The Twi’lek had said the phrase. The New Republic would become Loor’s new home.
It’s just as well Corran Horn is dead
—
our being on the same side would have killed him anyway
.

Loor folded up a small transportable datapad and slipped it into his pocket. Once he left his office he would use a public access site to plug in and send the directions for his pickup to Nawara Ven. Sending it from his office would have been easier, but would have increased the probability that a copy of the message would fall into Isard’s hands. Though he planned to be hidden well away by the Rebels by the time she discovered he was missing, he wanted as much time for his disappearance to take place as possible.

At his desk he copied files from his desktop datapad to a datacard. “Helvan, come here.”

One of his Special Intelligence operative cell leaders entered his office. “Sir.”

Loor held the datacard out to him. “There has just been an announcement concerning the Celchu trial that leads me to believe there will be a fair amount of attention centered on
the proceedings today. We shall take advantage of that. These are the plans and authorization for a strike at the largest of the Republic’s bacta storage areas, the one in Invisec.”

“The one guarded by Vorru’s militia?”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No, sir, the target is no more secure than any other Rebel facility. It is just that we have refrained from hitting targets he is guarding so far.…”

“Indeed.” Loor shrugged. “An oversight on my part. Vorru thought himself immune to our wrath. He learns now he was wrong.”

A smile tried to squirm its way into the SIO man’s face, but failed to do more than tug at the corners of his mouth. “Sir, when do we strike?”

“Court begins early in the morning. Time the strike to occur with the first witness. That gives you approximately five hours.”

“It’s done, sir.”

“Very good, Helvan. You make me proud.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The SIO man turned and practically ran from the office. Loor would have laughed, but he feared that might have betrayed his true intentions. The attack he had designed would call for a strike force of thirty SI operatives—three cells’ worth. He designated a bacta facility as the target because he knew Isard would approve of it and might set aside, even for a moment, her fears about him. He chose Vorru as a target both to strike at the man’s vanity and so he could hurt the man personally before he sold him out to the Rebels.
Stick the vibroblade in and modulate the oscillation rate
.

Loor prepared the plans for transmission to Isard by adding a note stating he intended to personally supervise the operation, and then sent them. He shut down his datapad, then took one last look out the window of his sanctuary at the brilliant galaxy of synthetic stars below him.
There will be other towers and other chances to rise to such heights
.

On a whim he turned on all of his lights and left them burning like a beacon in the night as he abandoned his office
and set out on the most dangerous mission he had ever undertaken.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, Iella Wessiri entered Halla Ettyk’s office. “You look as haggard as I feel.”

Halla looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. “You don’t know the half of it. Nawara Ven called me just past midnight. I’ve spent two hours meeting with him and various Provo Council members. This is all madness.”

“Why tractor-beam me into it?”

Halla smiled. “Because you’ve been the one who’s harbored little doubts about Tycho Celchu’s guilt. We’ve got a witness now who can confirm his innocence. We have to bring him in, and you’re going to help Nawara do the job.”

Iella blinked her eyes. “A witness? Lai Nootka came forward?”

“Nope.” Halla sat back and mischievous light played through her brown eyes. “Someone who demanded your presence. Said he’d only trust you to bring him in.”

Who could that be?
Iella’s eyes narrowed. “Give me a name.”

“Can’t. This office isn’t secure enough.” Halla pointed toward the office window and the drapes drawn over it. “Someone you knew well, once upon a time.”

Iella frowned.
Drapes? Curtains?
Her jaw dropped open.
Kirtan Loor?
“It can’t be.”

“It is. Code name is Behemoth.”

“Right.”
He’s the biggest Intelligence agent we’ve brought in so far
. “What’s the drill?”

Halla yawned. “Sorry. Nawara just gave his little media conference so Behemoth knows the deal is set. Nawara will be coming here and will be waiting until Behemoth can get him a message about pickup. I’ve arranged for you to get an armored airspeeder. You’ll take Behemoth to a safe house, Nawara Ven will depose him, then you’ll pack him up and bring him here in time for court. We want him in and out fast—we’re counting on secrecy because he should have
enough information about Imperial ops that almost anyone could want him dead.”

Iella nodded. “You’re not afraid I’ll kill him?”

“Not before he clears Celchu of Horn’s murder, no, I’m not. Cracken will want him after that, but my only concern is his impact on this trial.” Halla shrugged, then blew a lock of black hair from in front of her face. “I’ve already told you he cut an immunity deal, so the only justice that will be done in this case is getting Celchu off. You know how these deals work.”

“Yeah, they stink worse than Hutt-sweat, but you give something to get something.” Iella sighed. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring him in safely.”

“Never was worried about it.”

Iella pointed to the hololink on the office’s other desk. “I need to speak with Diric.”