Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [73]
“… claim they were contracted to protect the interests of the Sextuna Mining Corporation, but that seems unlikely.” The image switched to a giant strip mine carved into the flank of a desolate mountainside somewhere on Blaudu Sextus. “This is Sextuna’s nearest interest, located over eighty kilometers from the protest march in central Arari.”
The image switched back to Vaandt’s impish face. “Until the Mandalorian assault sleds arrived and began to run down protesters too determined to flee, the march was entirely peaceful. Even now, after a provocation that was clearly one-sided, the only reported casualties are Octusi.” The vidscreen displayed a large, shaggy-furred body that had been crushed beyond all recognition. “Given recent events at the Jedi Temple, this reporter is left wondering just what these Mandalorians are trying to protect—and who they’re really working for.”
A deep rage began to burn inside Daala’s chest, and she looked across Bwua’tu’s bed. “She’s going too far with this, Wynn. We need to do something about it.”
“I understand,” he replied evenly. “I’m just not sure what we can do—unless you’re willing to risk the uncertainties of open court.”
Translation: Unless we want the whole galaxy to know that Vaandt’s right, we have to take our lumps. Daala clenched her teeth and looked away—and that was when she saw Bwua’tu’s eyelid twitch.
“Did you see that?” she asked, turning to Ysa’i. “He blinked.”
“I didn’t, but you mustn’t allow it to raise your hopes,” Ysa’i said. “It’s an automatic reflex.”
Daala looked back to Bwua’tu, waiting for him to blink again. He didn’t, but she could see for herself that his activity image was peaking and spiking every time Vaandt’s image appeared on screen.
“No, Doctor, it means something.” She glanced back up at the vidscreen, where Vaandt was just doing her sign-off with an image of Arari’s smoking skyline in the background. “I think there’s some connection between Madhi Vaandt and the attack.”
Asokaji’s scarred cheek folds widened in shock, and he glanced over at Wynn with an expression that suggested he thought Daala was losing her mind.
“Something troubling you, Rynog?” Daala asked. “Speak freely.”
“Thank you, Chief,” he replied. “But it doesn’t make sense. Why would a reporter involve herself in an attack on Admiral Bwua’tu?”
“I didn’t say she was involved,” Daala corrected. “I said there was a connection—and, at the moment, that’s all we have.”
“Is it?” Asokaji asked. “I know you’re convinced that this couldn’t have been a Jedi attack because it was botched, but maybe it wasn’t botched. What if the goal wasn’t to assassinate, but to incapacitate?” He pointed at the body cast covering Bwua’tu’s midsection. “Only a Jedi could do that and be sure not to kill.”
Daala raised her brow. She had to admit the possibility had not occurred to her, but it didn’t feel right, either. She looked to Wynn and cocked a brow.
Wynn thought for a moment, then said, “Sometimes a lightsaber attack is just a lightsaber attack. But I don’t see the why.” He turned to Asokaji. “If Bwua’tu was trying to help Hamner work out a compromise with Chief Daala, why would the Jedi want to kill him?”
“Because not all Jedi want a compromise,” Asokaji said. “Hamner told the admiral that he was having difficulty convincing the other Masters to be patient. Perhaps a splinter group decided to take matters into their own hands and put a stop to the negotiations.”
“It’s not out of the question,” Daala admitted, recalling the assassination attempt on the Solos—an attempt that had spoiled her own efforts to negotiate a compromise. “There’s no question that someone wants to keep us at each other’s throats.