Timothy Zahn - Survivor's Quest

Mara shook her head. "I marked the original with my lightsaber before we left the area," she told him. "Just a nick in the insulation, but visible enough if you know where to look. No, it was the same cable."

"So you suspect it was a deliberate attack framed to look like an accident," Fel said. "Just as well—" He broke off.

"Just as well what?" Mara demanded.

Fel reddened. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't supposed to tell you. Admiral Parck sent us along because he thought you might be in danger on this trip." He smiled self-consciously. "We're sort of your escort."

Mara looked at Luke, saw her same surprise mirrored there. Unlike hers, though, his surprise had a touch of amusement to it. "Very kind of Admiral Parck," Mara said tartly. "You can tell him thanks on your way out."

"Now, Jedi Skywalker—"

"Don't Jedi Skywalker me," Mara retorted. "We don't want a bunch of stormtroopers clattering along behind us everywhere we go. Drask is already glowering more than I like. So climb aboard whatever shuttle you came in on and get out."

Fel looked pained. "I'm afraid it's not as easy as that," he said. "Yes, we're here to protect you—"

"Which we don't need."

"No, I agree completely," Fel said. "The idea of us protecting Jedi... but at the same time, I'm under Imperial orders, not yours."

"Besides, Formbi's already given them permission to come along," Luke pointed out.

"So what?" Mara demanded.

Luke shrugged. "You and I were wondering if Formbi was using this mission as a pretext for opening full diplomatic relations with the New Republic," he reminded her. "Maybe he's looking to do the same thing with the Empire of the Hand."

"What makes you think Parck even wants diplomatic relations with the Chiss?" Mara countered.

"We do," Fel said quietly. "Very much."

Mara glared at him. There are a hundred different threats out there that would freeze your blood if you knew about them... "All right, fine," she said between clenched teeth. "This isn't my ship. You want to hang around, fine. Just don't get in our way."

"Understood," Fel said. "Do you want me to start any inquiries as to who aboard might have wanted Master Skywalker injured?"

"Absolutely not," Mara said. "We'll handle that. You just stay in the background and keep quiet."

Fel smiled slightly. "As you wish," he said, getting to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, then, I'll return to our transport and prepare for dinner."

"We'll see you there," Luke said.

"Good talking with you." Fel crossed to the door, opened it, and left.

"Great," Mara growled. "Just what we needed. Our own private entourage."

"Oh, I don't know," Luke said soothingly. "It's no worse than a group of Noghri following us around."

"Of course it's worse," Mara retorted. "Noghri at least know how to be invisible. You ever see a stormtrooper who wasn't as obvious as a Wookiee at a formal dinner?"

"Well, they're here, and we might as well get used to it," Luke said. "Now, what about this cable?"

"It was deliberately dropped," Mara said, reluctantly changing gears. She wasn't really finished ranting about Fel yet, but she was practical enough to realize there were higher-priority matters that needed to be dealt with. "There was also a hole bored in the ceiling where the spring clip would have come through to hold the cable."

"So it could have been handled by remote control?"

"Easily," Mara said. "Which means Drask himself might have been the one to trigger it."

"Or Feesa," Luke pointed out. "She was in the best position to handle the timing."

"I thought she was Formbi's assistant, though," Mara pointed out. "Formbi's the one who wants us aboard."

"Does he?" Luke asked. "Or is he under orders from above that he himself doesn't necessarily agree with?"

"Point," Mara conceded, frowning as she thought back to their encounters with the Aristocra. "I don't know, though. He seemed genuinely pleased to have us here."

"Yes, but there's something else going on below the surface," Luke said. "Some extra tension he's trying to hide. Of course, that could be nothing more than the fact he's having to deal with so many aliens."

"Possibly with the future of the whole Chiss diplomatic structure hanging on how well he does?"

"That could be part of it," Luke agreed. "So if we leave Formbi off the list, who's left? Drask?"

"Who's left is basically everyone except the Geroons," Mara said. "And only because they weren't here at the time. It could have been Drask, Jinzler, or Fel and his group." She snorted. "The Five-Oh-First. Can you imagine Parck reviving that one? I guess old units die hard."

Luke shrugged, a little too casually. "Old units aren't the only thing," he murmured.

"What was that?" Mara asked suspiciously.

"I was just noticing how easily you slipped into the role of Imperial commander a few minutes ago," Luke said. "You led them here, you ordered the stormtroopers away, and you basically told Fel what you wanted him to do."

"So?" Mara said with a shrug of her own. "Since when have I been shy about telling anyone what I wanted them to do?"

"I know," Luke said. "I'm just pointing out how comfortably you took back that role, that's all. I'm not saying anything else."

"You'd better not be," Mara said darkly. But whether he said it or not, she could sense there was something else behind his words. Something not entirely comfortable with the way she'd behaved.

Her first impulse was to have it out right now, to insist that he bring his thoughts on the subject out into the open where she would have the chance to knock them down one by one.

But something held her back. Perhaps she sensed it wasn't the proper time or place for that kind of discussion.

Or perhaps she wasn't so sure she could knock them all down.

He was right in a way. She had found it disturbingly easy to slip back into that role. It had been refreshing to deal with soldiers who took orders without question, instead of a mixed group of humans and Bothans and Devaronians and Mon Cals, all of whom had their own prejudices and perspectives and who sometimes heard or obeyed orders in entirely different ways.

I've had my fill of Imperial service, she'd told Fel. But had she? Really?

"Anyway, we should probably go back to the Jade Sabre and see if we've got anything that'll pass as formal wear," Luke went on. Apparently, he didn't want to have it out yet, either. "Dinner's going to be served soon, and we'll want to be ready when Feesa comes to get us."

After the size of the reception room, Luke had expected the Chaf Envoy's main dining salon to be equally grand and expansive. To his surprise, it was in fact built more along the lines of a standard ship's wardroom, though decorated with the same sort of elegant touches he'd already noted in their quarters. Apparently, once the high-level dignitaries had been ushered aboard in proper style, the pomp and ceremony diminished considerably.

Perhaps the dignitaries' wardrobes were supposed to make up for it. Formbi and Drask were dressed even more elaborately than they had been at the Jade Sabre's landing, though each maintained the same color scheme he'd been wearing then. Fel had switched to a dress uniform that bordered on the regal, with much of the tunic's upper left covered with rows of colored bits of metal that apparently denoted specific campaigns or victories. Jinzler had done equally well, with a layered robe-tunic that would have fit right in with a diplomatic reception on Coruscant. Mara wasn't too far behind him, with her flowing wraparound gown and embroidered bolero jacket.

It made Luke feel decidedly out of place in his plain dark jumpsuit and sleeveless, knee-length duster. Next trip, he made a mental note, he was going to have to make sure to bring a couple of fancier outfits along.