"So I was told. "

"And the other item?"

"I don't know what it is. "

"Describe it. "

"Silver, tubular, about a meter high-made of rare metals and some kind of organic component. No insignia. Do you know what it is?"

The Mandalorian fiddled with his armor and projected a tiny holovid of the palace grounds. "There are seven maximum-security vaults in Ta.s.saa Bareesh's enclave. Tell me which one contains these two items. "

"Why?" asked Jet. "It's just s.p.a.ce junk. "

"You did not believe so, " said the Mandalorian.

"I'll sell anything, or try to. "

"If you release my hand, " said Ula, "I'll show you which vault it is. "

"You're not after this mystery planet as well, are you?" asked let, rolling his eyes as Stryver loosened the web restraining Ula's left hand. "Unless-ah! Yes. Unless you want the navicomp for an entirely different reason. "

Stryver ignored him. "Point, " he said, holding the holovid out to Ula.

"Bring it a bit closer. That one there, I think. "

As the Mandalorian studied the floor plan, Ula slipped his hand into his pocket and produced the holdout blaster.

He listened to himself speak calmly and without fear, as though he were standing outside his own body, watching what was going on.

"Release my other hand, " he said, pointing the blaster at Stryver's stomach. "I'd prefer to talk as equals. "

Stryver pushed the holovid into Ula's eyes, blinding him. Ula squeezed the trigger, but Stryver was too fast. With one sweep of his other arm, he swatted the blaster away. The single shot discharged harmlessly into the ceiling "Nice try. " Jet chuckled as Stryver reaffixed Ula's hand to the chair. "You've never dealt with his kind before, have you?"

Ula was having trouble seeing the funny side. The fear had come crashing back in. His eyes were still dazzled, and his hand felt like it was broken. "How can you tell?"

"Mandalorians don't believe they have any equals. "

Larin sliced into another layer of the palace security program and conducted another search. Dao Stryver's name still appeared only once: his ship, First Blood, was docked in the palace's private s.p.a.ceport. Mentally, she kicked herself for missing something as obvious as that, but she didn't lose any time over it. The architecture of the palace's security programs was even more baroque than the palace itself. Even if she had thought to search for the Mandalorian's name, chances were it wouldn't have appeared the first time.

"Anything?" asked Sergeant Potannin, who was peering worriedly over her shoulder.

She shook her head. Searches on Ula Vii's name had turned up nothing as well.

"You're blocking my light. " Potannin was trying to be helpful, but he was no Shigar. "I'll holler when I've found something. "

Pulling another decryption algorithm from her repertoire, Larin tried another route.

Behind them, the Twi'lek, Yeama, entered the missing envoy's suite and sketched a bow. The b.u.mp on his temple stood out in bright red against the green of his skin.

"My mistress offers her profound apologies. The hunt for the kidnappers and those who attacked your sentries will begin immediately. "

Larin scrambled the holoprojector's view so Yeama wouldn't see what she was up to in his mistress's security infrastructure.

"You have a Mandalorian loose in the palace, " she said, "and you didn't know about it?"

"He is one of many. They do not like to be watched too closely. "

"Now you know why. Perhaps you'll think twice about the kind of sc.u.m you're dealing with. "

Yeama stiffened. "And you are-?"

"Does it matter who I am? I'm helping you find the envoy. What are you doing?"

The Twi'lek turned an unhealthy color, even for his species. "Everything in our power, naturally..."

"Good, so hop to it. We're busy here. "

Yeama retreated and Larin de-scrambled the view she'd been looking at.

"There's a whole other layer down here, " she muttered, marveling at the intricacies of the system. Either it had evolved piece by piece, as each new development added an extra level to what was already there, or it had been designed by the galaxy's most paranoid software engineer.

Still no luck with Duo Stryver, however. And Envoy Vii didn't produce a hit. If either of the two men was moving about in the palace, none of the security system's pattern recognition systems was tracking them.

Larin was beginning to get desperate. This was the one job she had to do, while Shigar attended to the rest of the mission, and she was failing at it. Proving herself capable wasn't the issue-she knew she was, or had been, at least, otherwise she would never have been in special forces. Getting a score on the board was the main thing, after so long on the bench.

In desperation, she tried "Jet Nebula. "

Instantly a hit appeared. Not just a location, but a coded tag she recognized as a smuggler's call for help.

"Got something. " Potannin hurried over. "You said Envoy Vii was with that Nebula character, didn't you? Well, I've found him, at least. "

Potannin clapped his hands together and grinned without humor. "Good work, Larin. "

He turned to the escort squad and rattled off a series of orders. Half would stay; the other half would come with him. Larin had to fight the reflex to obey. Had she remained enlisted in the Blackstars, Potannin would have outranked her.

"I'm coming with you, " she told him as his group a.s.sembled, checking weapons and light armor.

He nodded. "I was just about to ask you, Larin. Thank you. "

"Don't mention it, Sarge. "

"Take point, and lead the way. "

Her face was burning as they hurried through the corridors, the echo of their booted feet preceding them, encouraging the throngs to part. This was too familiar, she told herself-dangerously familiar. She couldn't let herself think that she was back in the fold. If they found out who she was, they would turn on her, just as the goons on Coruscant had. Better to stand apart, for the future's sake.

They had almost reached the location on her holopad when an explosion shook the ground beneath them, followed by another a short time later. She called a halt, wondering if they were walking into a trap, but the blasts didn't come any closer. The lights dimmed for a second, then brightened. The palace's generators, she guessed-damaged either by sabotage or by accident.

The inhabitants of the palace hurried to find shelter. They didn't scream or panic. They simply gathered up their valuables and loved ones and went somewhere else. Such things were clearly not uncommon on Hutta, Larin gathered.

"Nearly there, " she said, waving the squad forward again. She moved more cautiously as she approached the flagged location. Just because someone had blown up the power plant didn't mean there wasn't a trap ahead.

The map grid correlated with an industrial-sized but very empty kitchen. Larin fell back and let Potannin take the lead. His squad spread out silently to check every hiding s.p.a.ce, communicating solely by gestures. They were well practiced and efficient, yet they turned up nothing but a battered old droid who had taken shelter from the fuss. After scanning it for munitions, they let it alone. It returned to the corner it had been lurking in, watching them silently.

"No sign of Envoy Vii, " said Potannin, stating the obvious. "Are you sure this is the right location?"

"I'm positive. The flag said Nebula was here and in some kind of distress. "

"He must've been here at some point, in order to leave that clue, but now he's been taken elsewhere. "

"There's no evidence of a struggle... "

A disturbance distracted Larin from the search. The droid had stepped out of its corner and was gesticulating wildly.

"Someone quiet that thing down, will you?" barked Potannin.

"No, wait. " Larin approached it, closely watching every move it made. "I recognize the signals it's giving. They're from the civil war. It's saying... "She searched her memory for the correct translation. It had been a long time since she'd taken The History and Use of Military Languages during her special forces training. "He's saying he left the flag for us to find. Not us specifically, but anyone who could help him. Reinforcements. He followed his Master-Nebula, I presume-via a transponder of some kind, probably hidden in Nebula's clothes or body. He's trying to mount a rescue, but... but he lacks the resources to complete his mission objective. "

The droid nodded, and she addressed him directly. "Who has captured Nebula? A Mandalorian?"

The answer was yes.

No wonder, Larin thought, the droid had been looking for reinforcements. "Is Nebula the only prisoner?"

The answer was no.

"Do you know where they are?"

An emphatic yes. The droid took Larin around to the corner, where he'd scratched a detailed map into the metal wall. She recognized that location from her own data. It was a dining room not a dozen meters away.

"I think we can help each other, " she told the droid, who nodded solemnly. "Weapons ready, " she told the squad. "This Mandalorian is big and dangerous. If you get a shot, take it. But watch out for the prisoners. We can't afford to harm the envoy. "

The droid tapped her firmly on the shoulder with one square, metal finger.

"Or Nebula, " Larin added.

They took their safeties off and fell in around her. Only when they were moving, with the droid taking the lead, did she realize that she had given the orders, not Potannin, who had obeyed along with the rest of his squad. That made her feel both guilty and pleased, although technically, she supposed, she had no rank now, which meant she had no superiors to worry about. That was the thought she clung to as she ran to face Dao Stryver for the second time.

It was Ula's turn to have the Mandalorian's rifle wedged under his chin. He arched his back as far as it went, but the barrel followed him, digging deep into his throat. He was so close to Stryver now that he could hear the whir of his suit's many mechanisms, even the hiss of air through its respirator as the Mandalorian drew in a breath to speak.

"Answer this question very carefully, Envoy Vii, " Stryver said.

Ula nodded. After his solitary act of defiance, he had no intention of doing anything other than exactly as he was told. His eyesight still sparkled from the dazzling effect of the holoprojector shoved into his face.

"I will. "

"You pointed to a location on the map. Was the vault you indicated the correct one?"

"Yes. "

"It contains the wreckage recovered from the Cinzia?"

"Yes. " He nodded as vigorously as he could to convince Stryver of his sincerity.

The pressure of the rifle fell away. Ula rocked forward, chest heaving. He hadn't noticed that he'd stopped breathing.

"And you?" Stryver asked Jet. "Do you have any more questions?"

"What, me?" The smuggler watched the weapon closely. It was aimed right at his chest. "Just one. What now? I can't help commenting that you've welded yourself in here with us... "

Something thudded against the sealed door. Stryver and his two captives turned to look at it. The thud came again, and a faint voice calling: "Open up!"

The Mandalorian turned away and busied himself with his suit, stowing his rifle and pushing b.u.t.tons with swift, practiced movements.

"I can a.s.sure you "said Ula, "that I have very little value as a hostage. "

Stryver said nothing. As a bright red line began creeping across the reinforced door, the Mandalorian stepped away from them and looked up. A rising whine came from his backpack.

"I suggest closing your eyes, " said Jet, turning his head toward Ula and shielding it as best he could with his shoulder.

There was a flash of light. Smoke and debris filled the air. The whine became a roar, and at that moment the door burst in.

Ula ground his eyelids shut on a cloud of stinging particles. He heard shouts and blasterfire, and felt bodies moving rapidly around him. Something crashed into him, and he felt gloved hands working at his bindings.

"It'll be all right, sir, " said a familiar voice. "We've got you covered now. "

Potannin! Ula could have wept.

When he opened his eyes, the smoke had cleared along with the sparkles from the holoprojector, and Dao Stryver was nowhere to be seen. Two members of Ula's escort stood guard over the door, while two more picked through the wreckage. The droid Stryver had disabled was pulling Jet free. A soldier in scruffy white armor was peering up into a giant hole in the ceiling, her rifle held at the ready.

Stryver had never had any intention of going out the door, Ula understood. His plan had always been to go up.

The scruffy soldier turned to him. "What did Stryver say to you? Did he tell you what he was looking for?"

"He's gone to get the navicomp, " said Jet, wiping dust from his eyes.

"Why? Are the Mandalorians after the same thing as we are?"

"I don't think that's the only reason. The navicomp wouldn't just show the ship's origin, would it? It'd show the intended destination as well. "

The soldier's helmet c.o.c.ked slightly. "What difference does that make to anyone?"

"Not to anyone, I'm guessing. Just to him. "

The soldier nodded. "Are you Nebula or the envoy?"

"Call me Jet. "

Ula staggered to his feet, freed at last from the Mandalorian's sticky web. "Ula Vii, at your service. Thank you, all of you, for rescuing us. Both of us. "