Agents Of Chaos_ Hero's Trial - Agents of Chaos_ Hero's Trial Part 20
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Agents of Chaos_ Hero's Trial Part 20

The Aqualish nodded inscrutably. "Perhaps this will help, Solo. The boss has learned that the human you were asking about - the one called Reck Desh - has an operation planned for Bilbringi."

Han's expression went from anger to wary interest. "What sort of operation?"

"Unknown. Only that it involves the entire Peace Brigade."

"When?"

"Imminently."

"Bilbringi, you say."

"That much is known."

Han pushed his hair from his forehead and loosed a slow exhale.

"Okay, tell Bunji thanks."

The Aqualish gestured farewell and moved off, and Han returned to the bar to think. Presumably, the Happy Dagger was still docked on the Wheel, but there would be no way of knowing whether it had survived the attack without returning upside. The alternative was to find public transport to Bilbringi and nose around for clues as to what Reck was up to. Leia could probably pull the necessary strings to get him aboard a ship, but he couldn't ask her without coming clean, and he wasn't ready to risk that. Not yet, anyway.

But C-3PO ... C-3PO could arrange for his passage on a Bilbringi-bound vessel. As per Han's discreetly relayed request, C-3PO rendezvoused with him at the entrance to the Ord Mantell spaceport.

"Nothing better than a prompt droid," Han said smiling.

"I must confess, Master Solo," C-3PO responded anxiously, "that I feel less than right about this - especially about mimicking Leia's voice to arrange for your passage."

"Come on, Threepio. You've done it before. You did it to fool Grand Admiral Thrawn's forces."

"That's not very reassuring, sir. What's more, that was a matter of protecting the princess from assassins. This is a matter of protecting you from ... I'm not quite sure what, Master Solo."

"I'm not asking you to lie, Threepio," Han said, dragging the final word out. "I'm only asking you to overlook. If Leia doesn't ask you about me, then there's no need for you to say where I've gone."

"But surely she will ask about you, sir."

"Okay, but she might not ask directly if you have any idea where I went, or where I am."

"But, sir, what if she does?"

Han considered it. "If she does, you tell her." He regarded the droid for a moment. "You'd have to, wouldn't you?"

C-3PO grew jittery. "It's beyond logic."

"Exactly," Han said. "It's beyond logic. You know, sometimes people are better off not knowing certain things."

"Sir?"

"Sometimes it's more painful to know the truth than not to know it."

C-3PO paid close attention. "Put that way, it doesn't sound so bad," he started to say, then made a flustered gesture. "But this matter of stretching the truth is as confusing as ceasing-to-be!"

Han raised an eyebrow. "Ceasing-to-be? What's a droid doing thinking about death? You can't die."

"Perhaps not the way a human can, sir. But I can be deactivated.

And what will become of my memories, then - the memories of all I've accomplished and all I've been through?"

Han stared at him. "Did somebody loosen your motivator or something? If that's all you're worried about, we can download your memory to a data storage facility." He narrowed his gaze with clear intent. "In fact, I just might be willing to arrange for that, Threepio - especially if you'll agree not to say anything to Leia about Bilbringi."

C-3PO tipped his head to one side.

"Immortality, Threepio," Han said enticingly.

"But, sir -"

"It'll be like having a clone on ice. Your mind winds up in a different body, but you don't even know you were gone."

"Oh, I'm confident I could adjust to a new body, sir. After all, I am a mind more than I am a body."

"That's the spirit, kid."

"That's the spirit," C-3PO repeated excitedly, then came back to himself. "But, Master Solo, sir, about this ship on which you have passage. There's something you should know -"

"It's bound for Bilbringi?"

"Yes, sir, but -"

"Then that's all that matters. Where's it leave from?"

"Tenders and boarding shuttles are scheduled to depart from Launch Bay 4061 at thirteen hundred hours, local time. But, sir, if you'd just give me a moment to explain -"

"No time, Threepio," Han said, glancing at a nearby time display.

"And thanks - for everything. You won't regret this."

C-3PO raised both hands above his head in agitation. "But, sir," he called out as Han was hurrying off, "it's the Queen of Empire - a jinxed vessel if ever there was one!"

NINETEEN.

Showolter grimaced as he watched the ooglith masquer captured on Wayland envelop and attach itself to Elan, extruding microscopic hooks and tentacles that inserted themselves into pores, sweat ducts, wrinkles, and folds. Naked, Elan had her back turned to him, but he could tell by her contortions and the involuntary flexing of her shipshape muscles that the process of donning the living mantle was excruciating - exquisitely so, according to Elan.

Alert to his curiosity, she had asked him to watch, in a manner that had managed to mix indifference with a hint of flirtation. He could endure only so much of her agonized moaning, however, and turned away to gaze out the safe house's sole window at a stand of trees, whose high metal content made that part of Myrkr a challenge for transceivers and other communication arrays.

"All finished," Elan announced stoically, and Showolter turned again to find her clothed not only in the Yuuzhan Vong second-skin but also in the robe he had originally handed her. She looked more human than ever.

Elan massaged her cheeks, forehead, and chin, as one might smooth away creases. "You see, Showolter? No trace of my markings, no evidence of who and what I truly am."

Showolter realized he'd been holding his breath, and he let it out.

"One size cloaker fits all, huh?"

"Why, are you interested in trying it on?"

"No," he replied quickly. "Just wondering whether there are male and female versions."

"Why should there be?"

He scratched his head. "Well, not every Yuuzhan Vong could have your shape."

Elan glanced at Vergere, squatting nearby, and the two traded cryptic smiles. Vergere's disguise amounted to no more than a loose-fitting garment that concealed her feathered torso and reverse-articulated legs. There wasn't much that could be done about her exotic face, but with so many folks displaced from the Outer Rim, immigration and customs officials were getting used to seeing new species every day.

"Is there something wrong with my shape, Showolter?" Elan asked at last.

"Quite the opposite." He laughed awkwardly.

"But surely you object to my facial and torso markings."

"Frosting," he said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

She tipped her head and regarded him frankly. "Perhaps you have the makings of a Yuuzhan Vong - despite your reluctance to assume the ooglith masquer."

"I doubt it. Though I might go as far as getting myself tattooed."

Her smile straightened. "If you think that the Yuuzhan Vong process is less painful, you're dead wrong."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Sacrifices have to be made."

"Oh, indeed they do, Showolter." She let the remark hang in the air for a moment, then added, "But I'm afraid my breath might offend you.

It's somewhat contaminated -"

"From the food," Vergere interrupted. "We're not accustomed to eating so much processed nourishment."

Showolter glanced at her. "Sorry, but there's nothing I can do about that." He appraised the concealing abilities of the ooglith masquer and gave his head a bemused shake. "A nerf in taopari's clothing," he muttered.

Elan's fine brows beetled.

"A play on a saying," he explained. "A taopari in nerf's clothing - a beast disguised as a grazer to infiltrate the herd."

Elan's eyes brightened in revelation. "So I'm a grazer in beast's clothing."

"I was thinking of the assassin your people sent."

"Of course you were."

Showolter cleared his throat and handed her undergarments, a simple dress, a jacket, and shoes. "Anyway, here's your outfit."

Elan examined the items one by one. "Who am I supposed to be, Showolter?"

"My wife. We're refugees, displaced from a planet called Sernpidal, traveling with our servant."

"That would be me," Vergere said, "as ever."

Elan looked from Vergere to Showolter. "I've no training in wifely duties."

"No one expects you to live the part. Just play it. We'll go over the details before we leave."

"It will be just the three of us?" Elan asked.

"We'll be met by backup on the ship."

"Are we going to a more populated world?"

He nodded.

"You will show me the sights?"

"That might take some doing. But, yes, eventually."

"How delightful."

Showolter left her to dress and went into the adjoining room to check on the two three-member decoy teams. The two female agents, faces painted in swirls and whorls and already attired in outfits identical to the one he'd given Elan, bore enough of a superficial resemblance to the Yuuzhan Vong priestess to pass for her. But Showolter was less confident about the Mrlssi and the Bimm operatives chosen to pass for Vergere.

"Maybe we'd have been better off employing a couple of Drall," he commented as he appraised the two costumed aliens.

"What about me, Showolter?" one of the women asked playfully. "Do I fit the bill as Miss Defector?" She struck a theatrically alluring pose and batted her eyelashes at him. "'You will show me the sights?'" she said, aping Elan's voice.

Everyone but Showolter laughed. Instead, he began distributing weapons and last-minute instructions written on self-destruct durasheet.

"Let yourselves be seen in Hyllyard City," he told the members of the first team, "but don't overplay things. If there are Yuuzhan Vong operatives about, they're not going to be easily fooled." He handed them travel vouchers. "You'll be departing Myrkr for Gyndine, then traveling on to Thyferra."

Another set of vouchers went to the male member of the second team.

"Myrkr to Bimmisaari to Kessel."

He slipped a blaster into his shoulder holster. "Everyone stays in touch with HQ through channels. Once our informants have reached Coruscant, you'll be notified to drop the charade and report in."

"What's your bet, Major?" team one's leader asked. Showolter pulled down the corners of his mouth and shook his head. "After the recent setback at Ord Mantell, the Yuuzhan Vong might just avoid that sector.

Besides," he added, buttoning his jacket over the holster, "what would they want with a bunch of refugees traveling on a decrepit starliner?"

As the packed-to-the-bulkheads tender pulled into docking position alongside the once magnificent luxury liner, Han suddenly realized what C-3PO had been trying to tell him back on Ord Mantell.

Of all ships, he said to himself as the vessel's faded and battle-scarred legend came into view. The Queen of Empire.