"I don't understand," Rosemari said, her shaking voice barely above a whisper. "What do they want from us?"
Uliar sighed. "Vengeance, Instructor," he said. "Vengeance for crimes real and crimes imagined."
"What crimes?" Rosemari asked. "What did we ever do to the Geroons?"
"We did nothing to the Geroons," Uliar said bitterly. "That's the problem."
Jinzler turned around to stare at him. "What?"
"Didn't you know, Ambassador?" Uliar bit out, his eyes dark as he glared past Rosemari's shoulder. "Bearsh and his friends aren't Geroons.
"They're Vagaari."
CHAPTER 19
Jinzler blinked at him, the collected images of the voyage flashing through his mind. How could Uliar even think that such excruciatingly humble travel companions could possibly be members of a race of pirates and slavers?
But even before the question formed in his mind, that last vivid image of Bearsh settled like a heavy curtain over all the rest: Bearsh standing placidly by as his wolvkils slaughtered their way across the meeting chamber. "How did you know?" he asked.
"Their voices," Uliar said as he stared into space, a distant agony reflected in his eyes. "Or rather, their speech, when they spoke in their own language just before their attack. I only heard it once, but it's something I'll never forget." The eyes came back to a hard focus. "You genuinely didn't know who they were?"
"Of course not," Jinzler said. "You think we would have let them aboard Outbound Flight if we had?"
"I don't know," Uliar said darkly. "Some of you might have." He turned his gaze toward Formbi. "Possibly the heirs of those who tried to destroy Outbound Flight in the first place."
"Ridiculous," Formbi said, his voice taut with suppressed pain. He was lying on his side along the back wall, his head cradled in Feesa's lap, the bloodstains on his sleeve growing steadily larger. "I've told you before: the Chiss Ascendancy had nothing to do with your destruction. Thrawn acted totally on his own."
"Perhaps," Uliar said. "But what about you, Aristocra? On whose behalf are you acting?"
"Why do we waste time with unimportant matters?" Feesa cut in angrily. "We must get medical attention for Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano. Where is your medical center?"
"What difference does it make?" Uliar growled. "Those things will kill anyone who tries to leave."
"No," Feesa said. "During the battle they attacked only those who carried weapons. As long as we leave unarmed and make no threatening movements, I believe we may pass safely among them."
"Interesting theory," Tarkosa said scornfully. "Are you prepared to risk all our lives on it?"
"It need be no one's risk but mine," Feesa shot back, starting to shift position in the cramped space. "I will go."
"No, don't," Evlyn said. "I saw one of them talking to the animals. I think he told it not to let any of us leave."
"Really," Uliar said, his tone suddenly subtly different. "And how would you know that?"
"I don't know," Evlyn said. "I said I think"
"I am willing to take the risk," Feesa insisted.
"I'm not," Formbi told her, reaching up to touch her arm with his fingertips. "You'll stay here."
"But—"
"That's an order, Feesa," Formbi said, his breathing starting to sound heavy as the loss of blood began to take its toll. "We will all stay here."
"Is that how Blue Ones face hard choices?" Tarkosa said scornfully. "To simply sit and do nothing until they die?"
"Maybe that's what they're hoping," Keely muttered. "Maybe their line creepers aren't as bad as they want us to think. Maybe they hope we'll go charging out there and get torn to bits."
"So instead we sit here and die?" Tarkosa shot back.
"No one's going anywhere," Jinzler said firmly. "There's no need. The Jedi and Imperials are still free. They'll find us."
Keely snorted. "Jedi," he said, biting out the name like a curse.
"There aren't any Jedi," Uliar said. "You heard Bearsh. They're already dead."
"I'll believe that when I see it," Jinzler said, turning around to peer through the chairs. The wolvkils had finished their postslaughter grooming and had moved closer to the makeshift refuge, probably drawn by the voices. They were prowling at arm's length away from the table barrier, their ears straight up, their jaws half open.
"We need a weapon," Uliar murmured. "That's what we need. A weapon."
"Those men and Chiss had weapons, too," Jinzler reminded him, looking past the wolvkils to the dead bodies scattered about the far end of the room. "What we really need is help..."
He trailed off, his eyes focusing on the nearest of the dead Peacekeepers and the comlink hooked to his belt.
The comlink the boy had reached for when Uliar had ordered the jamming to be shut off.
"Director," he said, trying to keep the sudden excitement out of his voice. "If we had one of the Peacekeepers' comlinks, could we shut off the jamming?"
"If we had one, yes," Uliar said. "There's a special twist-frequency command line built into those comlinks that allows for communication with other Peacekeepers and the command system."
"Do you know how to operate it?"
"Of course," the director growled. "I served my share of Peacekeeper duty."
"Except that the nearest comlink is ten meters away," Tarkosa pointed out. "Were you hoping to convince one of the animals to bring it to you?"
"No." Jinzler looked at Evlyn. "Not one of the animals."
The girl looked back at him; and for the first time since they'd met he saw an edge of fear in her eyes. "No," she whispered. "I can't."
"Yes, you can," Jinzler told her firmly. "You must."
"No," Rosemari cut in emphatically. "You heard her. She can't."
"Can't what?" Uliar demanded, his voice suddenly watchful.
"There's nothing special about her," Rosemari insisted, glaring warningly at Jinzler.
"Yes, there is," Jinzler said, just as firmly. "You know that as well as I do. Rosemari, it's our best chance."
"No!" Rosemari bit out, clutching her daughter tightly to her.
"So I was right," Uliar said softly.
Rosemari whirled on him. "Leave her alone," she flared at him, her voice trembling. "You're not going to send her to Three to die. You're not."
"Do you dare defy the law?" Uliar thundered.
"She hasn't done anything!" Rosemari shot back. "How can you condemn her when she hasn't even done anything?"
"She's a Jedi!" Tarkosa snarled. "That's all the law requires."
"Then the law is a fool," Jinzler said.
The three Survivors turned furious eyes on him. "Keep out of this, outlander," Tarkosa ordered. "What do you know about us, or what we went through?"
"Is that your reason for denying your children their birthright?" Jinzler demanded. "For keeping them from using and developing the talents they were born with? Is that your excuse—something that happened fifty years ago? Before any of them were even born?"
"No," Evlyn said, her face pleading, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Please, Ambassador. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be a Jedi."
Jinzler shook his head. "You don't have a choice," he told her quietly. "None of us gets to choose which talents and abilities we're born with. Our only choice is whether we take those gifts and use them to live and grow and serve, or whether we bury them in the ground and try to pretend they were never there."
Awkwardly, he shifted around in the cramped space and took the girl's hand. It was shaking, and the skin was icy cold. "You can use the Force, Evlyn," he said. "It's one of the greatest and rarest gifts that anyone can ever be given. You can't simply throw it away."
She looked up at him, blinking back tears. Her face was so tight, he saw, and yet so controlled...
And suddenly, it was as if he were four years old again, gazing across the distance at his sister Lorana's eyes for the first time. Watching the wariness and uncertainty in her own face as she turned away; feeling himself seething with confusion and resentment at the special place she clearly held in his parents' hearts.