"What are you going to do?"

"Finish things. I've seen enough. "

As he spoke, more of the damaged wall fell away, revealing empty s.p.a.ce on the other side. The hexes were already heading for the opening, followed by the Sith. Stryver grunted and took to the air, activating weapons systems he had not yet used against the droids. Larin watched him go, thinking hard.

There would be time for thinking later, she reminded herself again. The priority was to put an end to the current crisis. Stryver wasn't above taking drastic steps to do exactly that-killing Yeama to put the cannon out of action was just one example-and he seemed to know what he was talking about. Looking around her, she found two of poor Potannin's guards and called them to her. Moving gingerly through the rubble, they headed for the battle-scarred antechamber, and the gaping mouth of the vault.

Ula stared up in horror at the descending ma.s.s of masonry. There was nothing he or let could do to avoid being crushed, and Jet's droid was too far away to intervene. There wasn't time for last regrets or second thoughts. The law of gravity was unbreakable, even on lawless Hutta.

He raised his arms in a futile attempt at self-preservation and closed his eyes.

He didn't die. His thoughts ground on with increasingly amazed vitality, until eventually it occurred to him that someone had intervened to help him live a little longer.

He opened his eyes. The avalanche had been deflected around them by an invisible force. By the Force, he realized as he looked around for the source of his salvation. It was the Jedi, standing with his left hand outstretched in a warding motion and his expression fierce. Ula himself could feel nothing at all arising from that gesture, but he was profoundly grateful that the stones seemed to do so perfectly well.

Another rumble came from above. The wall wasn't stable. The Jedi deflected another falling slab, which crashed next to them with a thunderous sound.

"Come on, " said Jet, tugging at his arm. "I think it's time we found somewhere else to stand. "

Ula wholeheartedly agreed. Conflicted but grateful, he nodded his thanks at the Jedi and scurried with Jet out of the danger zone. Jet was leading them toward what had once been the external exit to the security air lock but was now a path cleared through mountains of rubble. Jet's droid was waiting for him there, waving his arms. The stubby barrel of the laser cannon protruded from between two large slabs. Behind it, Ula could see Larin and Yeama fighting over the controls.

Then Stryver swooped in, firing at the cannon. Larin jumped or was thrown clear, and Ula's heart hammered in his chest. Was she hurt? Could he help? Jet pulled him down as the cannon exploded and shrapnel pinged around them. He belatedly covered his head with his hands, feeling as though he had spent the last hour in that position.

This wasn't becoming of an Imperial operative, he told himself, weary of his own cowardice. He had once had aspirations of being a Cipher Agent, whose job was to negotiate exactly such situations. Here he was, right in the thick of things, and what was he doing? When he wasn't being saved by Jedi, he was cowering and whimpering at the slightest noise. It simply wouldn't do.

The droids were busy with Stryver, Shigar, and the Sith. The way into the antechamber was wide open.

"I'm going to see what's in there, " he said. "Coming?"

Jet looked at him as though he had gone stark, staring mad. "You can't be serious. "

"Why wouldn't I be? This is my chance to get in before anyone else does. "

"Isn't that cheating?"

"If it is, I'm not the only one. Look. " He gripped Jet by the shoulder. "Larin's moving. I have to stop the Republic from getting there first. "

Jet smiled tightly at that. "I think you mean 'the Imperials, ' my friend. "

Ula flushed. "Yes. Yes, of course. That's exactly what I meant. "

"Envoy Nirvin is over there. I don't think he cares much, either way. "

Jet pointed at a body so badly crushed that Ula couldn't identify it. Ula winced and averted his eyes.

"Regardless, I'm going. You can come if you want. I don't care. "

"All right, all right-but keep your head down!"

Jet wiped his palms on his dusty trousers and took the lead, as if by doing so he might increase the chances of either of them returning alive.

CHAPTER 18.

The wall collapsed despite the Jedi's best efforts to prop it up. Fresh air rolled in on a wave of dust and ash. Ax's nearly invisible droid hopped agilely from outcrop to outcrop toward the opening. In two leaps, it reached the hole and jumped into the light of the outside world.

The droid following in its wake fired at her. Its pulses had turned purple, somehow, and now packed a more powerful punch. She rolled, keeping her shield intact, and reflected the pulses back at it. More dust went up, and the droid vanished into the cloud. She didn't need to use the Force to know that it had followed in its sibling's footsteps.

Stryver was hot on their heels, jetpack blazing. Ax risked being burned in his afterwash, she was following so close behind him. The Jedi followed her, looking worn out and battered. She considered turning on him and striking him down, taking the chance to finish what they had started earlier, but more important concerns drove her now. She could hear the droids screeching as they burst into the unsuspecting populace of Ta.s.saa Bareesh's palace. The sound of their voices fueled her desire to destroy them, to see them all very, very dead.

Evocii and other aliens were running everywhere, fleeing both the droids and the Mandalorian firing at them. His concussion missiles brought down ceilings and walls in the droids' path, stopping them from getting too far ahead. They fired back at him, causing still more collateral damage. If this kept up, Ax thought, it wouldn't be long before Ta.s.saa Bareesh's entire place was destroyed. She couldn't find it in her heart to care.

When Stryver was within range, he used his net launcher to bring the semi-visible droid down. He hadn't tried this tactic before, she noted. Furthermore, the net was different from the one he had used on her. Why he had changed his tactics was, however, less important at the moment than the fact that they were working. The net's mesh was electrified, and delivered a powerful pulse of energy to the droid-thing's silver skin. The six-legged creature spasmed and twitched, shedding sparks into everything it touched. Its keening took on a new, desperate note as its camouflage failed.

Ax prepared to rush in and finish it off.

Then she stopped.

What am I doing?

The answer took surprisingly long to come. This wasn't her fight. Unless one of the droids was carrying the navicomp, she had nothing to gain by killing them. Revenge might seem sweet at that moment, but she would be full of regret later if attaining it meant failing in her mission. Darth Chratis would make sure of that.

The Cinzia, Lema Xandret. They were what mattered.

The Jedi rushed past her, lightsaber upraised. Let him finish off the fallen droid, Ax decided. To him could go that minor spoil. Then he and Stryver could surely finish off the one droid left to deal with on their own.

Unnoticed by either of them, she turned and headed back to the security air lock.

Shigar stabbed down into the guts of the fallen droid, pressing hard to penetrate the surprisingly tough metal of its exoskeleton. Its legs strained against the net, failing either to fire at him or to form its electromirror defense. Sparks still discharged all around it, and Shigar was careful not to be either burned or shocked. As it was, the hairs of his arms were standing on end, electrified even along the shaft of his lightsaber.

The droid's gleaming sense organs turned matte black when it died. It slumped back with a metallic rattle, and its legs hung limp. Still Shigar worked through its body, making sure nothing survived. The case split open, spilling several white, sh.e.l.l-like hemispheres. Fearing they might create some kind of last-minute attack, Shigar speared them, too. They hissed and collapsed, oozing a dark red liquid.

When he was absolutely positive the droid had no life left, he stepped away and hurried after Stryver. The final droid was peppering the Mandalorian with its newly potent pulses, keeping well out of range of his net launcher. Stryver in turn had managed to maneuver it into a cul-de-sac and pinned it between him and a trio of Nikto security guards. Their blasters were ineffectual against the things armor, but they had a distracting effect.

Shigar came up behind the Mandalorian and considered how best he could help. The roof was low and much less st.u.r.dy than that of the security air lock. Reaching out through the Force, he loosened a key beam and brought a shower of bricks and ceiling tiles down onto the droid. The distraction was sufficient for Stryver to get close enough to cast the net.

The droid went down with a shriek of pain and anger. Stryver pumped three concussion grenades into its chest, not caring about the Nikto standing nearby. Shigar pushed past him to finish off the droid himself, before anyone else could get hurt.

Prior to delivering the killing blow, he tried talking to it.

"Why are you fighting?"

"We do not recognize..."

"You're a combat droid. You must have core protocols. "

"...not recognize your..."

"Who is your commander? Your maker?"

"...your authority! We..."

Stryver leaned past him and plunged his collapsible shockstave into the thing's chest. Its legs flailed, and it squealed so piteously that Shigar almost felt sorry for it. Then its vocabulator function degraded and its voice became little more than piercing electronic tones. He was glad when it finally fell silent.

His comlink buzzed.

"Shigar, I'm in the vault, " said Larin. "You need to see this. "

"What is it?"

"I don't know. It..."

With a blast of static, the comlink went dead.

Shigar turned and ran back the way he had come, Stryver's ma.s.sive form five long steps ahead of him.

Larin stepped gingerly onto the pool of molten metal that had once been the vault's door. It was still hot. She could feel the heat even through her insulated boots. But it was solid, and her soles held. The body of the droid killed by the cannon lay nearby, its eight legs splayed out and its double body inert.

She quickly surveyed the antechamber and found it to be empty. What had once been white walls were now blackened and scarred, but the other three vaults remained tightly sealed. There was a depression in the center of the room that looked like a tunnel mouth. Re-solidified ferrocrete sealed it shut, however, followed by a layer of molten door metal.

Satisfied that nothing was going to jump her from behind, Larin approached the door itself. Her rifle was c.o.c.ked and ready, and she had armed backup. Potannin's squad members were tight-lipped and efficient. Most important, they were following her orders.

The interior of the vault was lit by a single flickering globe. Via the flashes of light it provided, she at last saw with her own eyes the object Potannin had described: a low, domed cylinder made of gleaming silver. The image of a battle-scarred soldier standing low behind her weapon was reflected in its curved front. In the irregular light, she looked both menacing and hesitant.

Gesturing economically, she ordered Potannin's squad members in past her. They went in separate directions, coming around the object to cover it from every angle. One of them stepped on a long gla.s.s tube that shattered with an alarming sound. Nothing sinister, she noted with relief.

There was no sign of the navicomp.

"Destroy everything you find, " Stryver had told her, and she had come armed with grenades to do just that. But she wasn't about to do anything rash. Who knew what valuable information might disappear forever if she acted precipitously? She may have been dumped from the Republic Special Forces, but that didn't mean she was about to take orders from a Mandalorian without question.

Larin came forward a step. The toe of her boot caught on something, and when she looked down she saw more of the shining silver threads running across her path.

It came to her in a flash what they might be, and she reached for her comlink to call Shigar.

With a crack, the top of the silver object snapped open. From it issued another droid. She dropped the comlink and fell to one knee, her rifle rising to fire. The droid was coming right for her, legs flailing and screeching like a mad thing. Its wild shape was frozen in a flash of light, silhouetted like a bug on a window. She registered five arms of varying length, and patches in its body that light shone right through. The shots from her rifle tore more holes in its hide and knocked it backward. It flailed and screamed.

She backed away, her heart pounding, pouring round after round into the droid and the object from which it had emerged. This droid wasn't entirely complete. That much was obvious, even from the brief glimpse she'd received. If it had been, she'd be dead now. It was new, made from scratch inside the object pulled from the Citizia. As the others had been.

The droid stopped moving. She signaled for a cease-fire, and was grateful for the sudden silence. The air was thick with smoke and static discharges. The tick-ticking of cooling metal was the only sound.

She moved closer to the blaster-scarred droid and the object that had made it. Standing warily over the latter, she pointed her rifle into its gaping maw and peered inside. She saw a ma.s.s of silver threads and slender manipulators, still moving despite the damage inflicted upon it. She fired two shots into the maw, and the swirling ma.s.s grew frantic. Half a droid foreleg appeared, stunted and deformed. A black sense organ came and went.

Larin knew what it was now. It was a compact droid factory, and it had been busy ever since the Hutts placed it here, sending out tiny threads in search of metals and power, infiltrating security systems and taking everything it needed. Hence the threads she and Shigar had stumbled across under the vaults. Hence the lack of alarms.

She bet herself that if she took a knife to the metal walls of the safe, she would find them barely flimsi-thin-enough to fool a casual glance, but otherwise utterly plundered, dissolved, and removed, ion by ion, for use in the factory's secret work.

Building vicious, determined, reticent droids that wouldn't take orders.

Why?

That was a whole other mystery. But the thing was still moving, still functioning. Given enough time, she bet it would repair itself and start all over again. No wonder Stryver wanted it destroyed.

She picked up the comlink.

"Shigar, I'm in the vault, " she told him. "You need to see this. "

"What is it?"

"I don't know. It..."

Something red flashed in front of her eyes. A searing pain struck the hand holding her comlink. She stared down in horror at the terrible cauterized wound where her fingers had once been.

Over the humming of her crimson lightsaber, the Sith said, "Give me the navicomp or it'll be your head you lose next. "

Ula craned to see what was going on inside the vault. He and Jet stood in the antechamber and had been just about to venture in after Larin when the sound of blasterfire brought them up short. Bright flashes of light lit up the cramped s.p.a.ce. Larin and her two companions were shooting at something. But what? Not another droid, surely!

Ula and Jet dived for cover just in case, and kept their heads down until the rattle of weapons-fire died away.

Ula looked up. He could just see Larin's silhouette leaning over the object Yeama had shown him. Its top was open, and she fired twice into it.

He was about to clamber to his feet when his eyes caught something out of place among the bits of stone and other rubble on the floor.

It was the navicomp.

One of the hexes must have knocked it out when they emerged to do battle. He scrambled for it before someone else saw and took it. Its transparisteel container was intact, and the device itself looked no worse than it had before.

A feeling of triumph filled him. If he could open the case and get the thing itself free, he could smuggle it under his cloak without anyone else seeing. But first he had to distract Jet. If the smuggler saw it, there was bound to be another fight over it. The whole extended disaster could start all over again.

Footsteps crunched behind him, and he turned, fearing that his find had already been discovered.

It was the red-haired Sith. She was heading for the vault, not him.

His relief was short-lived. The Sith's lightsaber flashed and Larin gasped with pain.

"Give me the navicomp or it'll be your head you lose next. "

Ula froze in horror.

"I don't have it, " Larin said, voice tight.

"I don't believe you. "

One of Larin's companions fired at the Sith. She easily deflected the bolt back into his throat. He went down kicking then fell still.