Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [33]
“Very clever,” Daala said to Han. “Who are they?”
Han scowled, genuinely confused. “Who are who?”
Daala pointed up the stairs. “Those two impostors,” she said. “Obviously, they aren’t Sothais Saar and Turi Altamik.”
“Nice try,” Han said, sneering. Whether Daala really believed they were impostors or just wanted to plant that doubt in the public mind, he should have realized she wouldn’t give up easily. “But that’s them.”
“And you expect the Galactic Alliance to take your word for this?” Daala asked.
“ ’Course not,” Han said. “You can have them prove it.”
“How?”
“Just have them do something only Jedi can do.” Han motioned for Daala to follow him and started up the stairs. “They’re either Jedi, or they’re impostors. But they can’t be both, because the Order doesn’t have enough Jedi Knights in it to have doubles.”
Daala remained on the landing behind him. “There’s no telling what kind of illusions a Jedi Knight can create with the Force.”
Han turned back to Daala, his lips drawn tight in disgust. “Come on, you know those tricks only work on the weak-minded.” A hovercam floated down for a close-up, and he made a point of squinting at Daala as though he were trying to understand exactly what she was implying. “Say, you’re not trying to tell me that the Galactic Alliance has a weak-minded Chief, are you?”
Daala’s face flushed with anger. “You know better than that, Captain Solo.” She remained on the landing. “But there’s also plastic surgery.”
“And there’s a surgeon.” Han leveled a finger at Tharn. “He ought to be able to tell if they’ve had any work done in the last few days.”
Daala remained where she was, silent and no doubt trying to think of a way to turn the situation around.
“Fine,” Han said. “I’ll have them come down.”
As Han turned to wave the pair down, Harfard rushed up and pressed a blaster nozzle into his ribs. “Hold it there, Solo. We won’t let you endanger the Chief of State.”
Han sneered down at the blaster, then said, “Assassination isn’t really Jedi style, you moron.” He shifted his glance to Daala. “Will you call this narglatch off? If you haven’t guessed it by now, we’ve found a cure.”
“Why don’t we let Tharn be the judge of that?” Daala waved Harfard aside and motioned for the two Jedi to come down. “That is why you asked me to bring him along, is it not?”
The tightness of Daala’s smile suggested she still felt sure of what Tharn would say—and that was probably her worst mistake of the day.
Han nodded. “Sure thing. I’m looking forward to seeing the master at work.” He caught Tharn’s eye and looked up at the swarm of hovercams, then added, “I’ll bet your colleagues are too, Doc—especially the ones who’ll be giving HoloNet commentary on your technique.”
Tharn’s eyes bulged as he realized what Han was implying, and he turned immediately to Daala. “This is hardly the proper venue for an evaluation,” he said. “I’ll need to take them back to my hospital for proper observation.”
“You sure you want them in your lab, with no one but a few Mando goons guarding them?” Han rubbed his neck, feigning concern for the Bith’s welfare, then lowered his voice and spoke in a menacing tone. “They might still be dangerous, and you said yourself that the only safe way to keep a crazy Jedi was on ice.”
The epidermal folds in Tharn’s cheeks drew down tight, and he appeared to contemplate Han’s words with an air of disdain. Then his green cheeks paled to chartreuse as he realized what Han was threatening—that taking the Jedi back to his own laboratory would result in its destruction—and he quickly shifted his gaze back to Daala.
“Perhaps I can make a preliminary field assessment,” he said. “I trust that will prove satisfactory.”
Without awaiting permission, he ascended the stairs toward Saar and Turi, a whirling mass of hovercams circling his head. Daala scowled at Han, who merely shrugged and silently mouthed, Your expert.
Tharn stopped