"This will identify you as Eriadu security," he explained. "I'll provide you with the necessary documentation later. The point is, you'll be in the summit hall before any of the delegations arrive.
Once we've learned which entrance Valorum is coming through, you'll get into whatever position you deem best." The sniper folded the uniform jacket over his arm.
"When do I take the shot?" "The proceedings will commence with a series of three prolonged trumpet fanfares," Havac went on.
"Plan to fire at the start of the third fanfare." "Valorum will already be in his seat?" Havac nodded, as he brought back the image of the interior of the hall. "He will. But you're going to place your first bolt here." The sniper stared at the spot on the summit hall floor Havac had indicated, then gazed in puzzlement at Havac. "I don't get it.
Who's going to be there?" "No one." "No one," the sniper repeated, then began to shake his head. "I don't know where you're going with this, but I've got a reputation to uphold, and when I'm hired to shoot, I don't miss." Havac grumbled beneath his scarf. "All right, so choose a target. Wound someone."
Lope stepped forward. "I thought we had a target- Valorum." Havac confirmed it with a nod and glanced at everyone.
"But I don't want any of you doing the actual shooting." While Lope and the rest were trading looks, Havac deactivated the holoprojector and set it aside. At the same time, a pair of Bith began to open the alloy crate the device had been sitting on, and slid from it a boxlike tangle of alloy limbs and a long cylinder of head.
"Meet the most important member of our team," Havac said. "Built specially for us by the same company that supplies the Trade Federation with its security droids." Taking a small remote control from his pocket, he entered a code into the touchpad, and a battle droid unfolded into an upright posture, its arms at its side and a blaster rifle mounted alongside its backpack. The Nikto pried a restraining bolt from the chest plastron of the alm-two-meter-tall droid and stepped to the side.
The restraining bolt hit the floor and rolled beneath the closest repulsorsled.
Havac keved in another code.
Instantly, the droid reached over its shoulder for the blaster rifle.
With matching speed, the mercenaries reacted by adopting defensive positions and drawing their own weapons.
"Settle down," Havac said loudly, gesturing with his hands.
Again, he keyed the remote. When the battle droid had returned the rifle to its mounting, Havac began to circle it.
"It's harmless," he assured everyone, "unless I tell it to be otherwise."
The Gotal was the only one who hadn't reholstered his weapon. "I can't work with a droid," he said angrily. "Their energy waves overload my senses."
"You're not going to have to work with it," Havac said.
"It's also going to be inside the hall." Lope and the sniper swapped concerned glances.
"Who's leading him in?" Lope asked.
"The Trade Federation." The sniper worked his square jaw. "Are you telling me that the droid is the actual shooter?" Havac nodded.
"Then why do you have me shooting at the floor?" "Because your bolt is going to touch off a chain of events that will allow our alloy teammate here to execute his commands." Havac regarded the droid.
"It doesn't need a control computer. But it does need to perceive a threat before it can be tasked." Lope started shaking his head. "You want this to end up looking like it was the Trade Federation that killed Valorum." The rest of the mercenaries stared at Havac.
"You object to that?" "Captain Cohl said that this was going to be a straight forward job," the sniper protested. "He didn't say anything about the Trade Federation." "Captain Cohl wasn't briefed on the full extent of the plan," Havac replied coolly.
"There was no point risking a leak." Lope forced a short laugh. "I guess we can appreciate that, Havac. But the fact is, if word gets out that we helped set up the Trade Federation…" "They've got a longer reach than the Republic, Havac," the sniper took over. "They'll have every bounty hunter from Coruscant to Tatooine after us.
And I, for one, don't want to have to spend the rest of my days hiding in a hole somewhere." Havac showed everyone a stony look. "Let's be clear about this. We're going to have to outwit Eriadu security, Republic judicials, and Jedi Knights just to pull this off. And, sure, you might have to buy off some bounty hunters when we're done. But all that means is simply living up to your reputations. If any of you don't think you're up to that, now is the time to say so." Lope glanced at the sniper, then at the Gotal, then at Havac's several human and alien confederates, and back at the sniper again.
"It's settled?" Havac asked, breaking the long silence.
Lope nodded. "Just one more question, Havac. Where will you be during all this?" "Where I can watch over all of you," he said, and let it go at that.
From the tile mosaic floor of the summit hall, Qui-Gon peered up at the tiers of seats, the banks of ornate, arch-topped windows, and, high overhead, the media booths and maintenance walkways.
He rotated through a full circle, his gaze taking in groups of droids inspecting the hall's several hundred video monitors, and teams of judicials and security personnel moving through the tiers with leashed beasts that sniffed, tasted, and probed the stale air.
In that quarter of the hall designated for the Coruscant delegation, Masters Tiin and Ki-Adi-Mundi were snaking among the seats, open to the slightest disturbances in the Force.
Elsewhere in the rotunda, Adi Gallia and Vergere were doing the same, stretching out with their feelings, in the hope of discovering some indication of what Havac and Cohl's assassins had planned for the summit.
Agape in four directions, and perforated by its many windows, the hall was a security nightmare.
Worse, Eriadu had decreed the summit open not only to delegates, but also to Holoationet reporters, assorted dignitaries and veterans groups, musicians, corporate representatives, and just about anyone with a modicum of authority or influence. So many diverse species were expected to attend-each with their individual entourages of aides, attendants, translators, and security guards- that it was going to be near impossible to determine who was legitimate and who wasn't.
Qui-Gon turned through another circle. The Eriadu delegation had granted itself the center of the floor, with Supreme Chancellor Valorum to their left, and the Trade Federation Directorate to their right. The Commerce Guild and the Techno Union had an arc of seats between the two, buffered by delegations from the Core and the outlying systems.
Qui-Gon's eyes were drawn once more to the overhead walkways and gantries, many of which supported arrays of spotlights and acoustic devices.