Джеймс Лучено - Cloak Of Deception

"It seems we have driven them off," one of Lagard's subalterns remarked in the Neimoidian tongue.

Lagard grunted noncommittally.

"Captain Cohl must have issued the abandon-ship order," the subaltern continued. "The Nebula Front would rather see our lommite lost to space than allow it to reach our customers on Sluis Van." Lagard grunted again. "They may think they have struck a blow against the Trade Federation. But they will think again when Dor valla is forced to make restitution to us." The subaltern nodded. "The courts will stand with us." Lagard turned briefly from the view.

"Yes. But these acts of terrorism cannot be allowed to continue." "Commander,"

the communications officer intruded. "We are receiving a coded transmission from Commander Dofine." "From the Revenue?" "From an escape pod, Commander."

"Put the message through the annunciators, and ready the tractor beam to retrieve the escape pod." The bridge's speakers crackled to life. his Acquisitor, this is Commander Daultay Dofine." Lagard hastened to the center of the walkway. "Dofine, this is Commander Lagard. We will have you safely on board as quickly as possible." "Lagard, listen closely," Dofine said.

"Contact Viceroy Gun — ray. It is urgent that I speak with him immediately." "Viceroy Gunray? What is so urgent?" "That is for the viceroy alone to hear," Dofine hissed.

Realizing that he had suffered a loss of face, Lagard stung back. "And what of Captain Cohl, Commander Dofine? Is he in possession of your ship?"

Dofine's brief silence assured Lagard that the barb had found its mark.

"Captain Cohl fled the ship in a facsimile cargo pod." Lagard turned to the viewports. "Can you identify it?" "Identify it?" Dofine asked sharply. "It was a pod like all the others." "And the Revenue?

his "The Revenue is about to blow to pieces!" In the terrorists' pod, Boiny studied the instrument console in dismay. "Thirty seconds to detonation.

" "Cohl!" Rella yelled when he failed to respond. "Do something!" Cohl glanced at her, tight-lipped. "All right, jettison the husk." To a one, the terrorists settled back in relief, while Boiny tapped a flurry of commands into the console keypad.

"Charges activated," the Rodian reported.

"Separation in ten seconds." Cohl sniffed. "Times like this, you wish you could see the faces of your adversaries." Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan watched Cohl's pod on their separate screens. Abruptly, a series of small explosions ringed the humpbacked craft along its equator, and it split into two parts, revealing an oblate shuttle concealed inside.

The shuttle's fusial thrust engines ignited, and the craft rocketed away from the pieces of its discarded husk. Then the lower half exploded.

"That would be our thermal detonator," Qui-Gon said. "And the tracking device?" "Affixed to the hull of the shuttle and still functioning, Master,"

Obi-Wan reported, gazing at the flashing bezel. "Again, you have anticipated Captain Cohl." "Not without help, Padawan. You know what to do." Obi-Wan smiled as he reached for the controls. "I only wish I could see Cohl's face."

Cohl's mouth fell open as he watched the pursuing pod burst apart along a midline seam. Inside was a wingless Corellian Lancet, painted a telltale crimson from pointed nose to sleek-finned tail.

"It's flying Coruscant colors!" Boiny said in astonishment. "Judicial Department." "Matching us maneuver for maneuver," Rella reported as she wove the terrorist's shuttle through a swarm of cargo pods and clusters of loosed lommite ore.

"Gaining on us," Boiny updated.

Rella refused to accept it. "Since when do judicials pilot like that?"

"Who else could be piloting?" one of the humans asked. "It sure isn't Neimoidians." Cohl locked eyes with Rella.

"Jedi?" they said in unison.

Cohl considered it, then shook his head. "What would the Jedi be doing out here? This isn't Republic space. Besides, no one-and I mean no one-knew about this operation." Boiny and the rest were quick to agree. "The captain's right. No one knew about this operation." But the uncertainty in the Rodian's voice was glaring, and Cohl was suddenly aware that everyone was watching him.

"No one, Cohl?" Rella said leadingly.

He frowned at her. "Outside the Nebula Front, anyway." "Maybe the Force told them," Boiny mumbled.

Rella studied the displays. "We might still make the Hawk — Bat" Cohl leaned toward the shuttle's wraparound viewport. "Where is she?" "Holding at the rendezvous point above Dorvalla's pole." When, after a long moment, Cohl still hadn't responded, she added, "I'll just keep flying in circles while you make your mind up about what to do." Cohl looked at Boiny. "Run a surface scan of the shuttle hull." "Surface scan?" the Rodian asked dubiously.

"Now," Cohl said sharply.

Boiny bent over the console, then straightened in his seat.

"We're hosting a locator!" Cohl's eyes narrowed. "They're hoping to track us." "Correction, Cohl," Rella said. "They are tracking us." Cohl ignored the remark and glanced at Boiny again. "How much time before the Revenue blows?"

"Seven minutes." "Can you calculate the shape of the freighter's explosion?"

Boiny and Rella swapped troubled glances. "To a certain extent," the Rodian said in a tentative voice.

"Do it. Then give me your best estimate of the blast radius and the extent of the debris cloud." Boiny swallowed hard. "Even my best estimate is going to be plus or minus a couple of hundred kilometers, Captain." Cohl mulled it over in silence, then glanced at Rella. "Come about-hard." She stared at him. "It's confirmed: You've lost your mind." "You heard me," Cohl snapped. "It's back to the freighter for us." Just inside the magcon portal of the Acquisitor's portside hangar arm, Daultay Dofine crawled indecorously from the barrel-shaped escape pod the freighter's powerful tractor beam had retrieved.

The navigator and the rest followed him out.

Commander Lagard was on hand to meet them.

"It is an honor to rescue so celebrated a person," Lagard said.

Dofine adjusted the fit of his robes and straightened his command miter.

"Yes, I'm sure it is," he replied. "Did you do as I asked and contact Viceroy Gunray?" Lagard indicated the Neimoidian mechno-chair that had probably conveyed him from the bridge. "The viceroy is eager to hear what you have to report. As am I, Commander." Dofine pushed past Lagard to get to the chair, which immediately began to move off in the direction of the centersphere- no doubt at Lagard's remote behest.

A product of Affodies Crafthouse of Pure Neimoidia, the curious and prohibitively costly device had two sickle-shaped rear legs that terminated in single-claw feet, and a pair of double — clawed articulated guidance limbs.

The laser-etched designs that covered its metallic surface were modeled after the shell ornamentation of Neimoidia's sovereign beetle. Gyroscopically balanced, the high-backed chair was more status symbol than practical mode of transport, but Dofine had grasped that the chair had not been provided for his benefit.

Where one would have sat was a circular hologram plate, from which projected the miniature holopresence of Viceroy Nute Gunray himself, leader of the Neimoidian Inner Circle and a member of the seven-person Trade Federation Directorate. Impediments of interstellar origin dazed the feed with diagonal lines of noise.

"Viceroy," Dofine said, bowing in obeisance before he hurried to catch up with the slowly scuttling chair.

Gunray had a jutting lower jaw, and his thick lower lip was uncompanioned. A deep fissure separated his bulging forehead into two lateral lobes. His skin was kept a healthy gray-blue by means of frequent massages and meals of the finest fungus. Red and orange robes of exquisite hand fell from his narrow shoulders, along with a round-collared brown surplice that reached his knees.