Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [129]
“And at the end of five seconds—boom-boom?”
“Boom-boom. And let me say, it’s a delight to hear the legitimate leader of the Galactic Alliance talking baby talk.”
She frowned at him, both because the remark was inappropriately personal and because there were still unresolved issues. “But this leaves me where you are, with guards and armor between me and freedom.”
“At that point, it’s all up to my employer. I can assure you, though, that immediately after boom-boom, I will no longer look as I do now, will no longer be carrying the identicard with which I entered this facility, will no longer have even the fingerprints or retinal patterns of Tevarkian. Oh, by the way, bear in mind that most of the boom-boom power is headed toward you.” The false attorney pressed a button on the datapad. “Five.”
Daala stared at him. He wasn’t moving.
“Four.”
Then she understood. He was playing Blink, a classic game of children, thrill-seekers, and military tacticians the galaxy over. Every species, every culture knew Blink. Sometimes called Swerve, sometimes named after particularly belligerent local animal species, it followed the same basic set of rules: two landspeeders, two military vehicles, two athletes would hurtle at each other, a move that, if it were to end in collision, would be at least very costly, at worst an example of mutually assured destruction. One, usually, would change direction an instant short of disaster. The other would win.
Daala could not help but grin.
“Three.”
On the tabletop, she drummed her fingers.
“Two.”
To his credit, the false attorney never looked nervous. But as the milliseconds counted down, as Daala’s internal sense of alarm rose, he sat there grinning at her, and then suddenly he was gone, ducking below the level of the table.
Using her free hand, the one not drumming fingers in a show of nonchalance, Daala yanked herself down and slammed into the floor.
UNLIKE DAALA, TAHIRI WAS ACCOMPANIED BY HER DROID ESCORT AS she entered the visitors hall. The chamber’s overseer droid directed her to Booth One, the farthest from the entrance. Her YVH droid took up position near the entryway while she shuffled to her booth. She passed behind Daala, who seemed deep in conversation with a well-dressed blond man.
Eramuth Bwua’tu awaited Tahiri on the other side of her booth viewport. The attorney had an encouraging if lupine smile for her. She took her chair but did not return the smile.
“Good morning, my dear.” Bwua’tu cocked a furry eyebrow as he looked at her stun cuffs. “I’m working on a measure to get you out of those. Obviously it has lower priority than efforts to call for a dismissal of the results of your trial, or to demand a new trial altogether, but I am attacking your situation on all possible fronts.”
“Thank you. But what are the odds?”
“It’s not a question of odds but of time. We will prevail. Still, the longer it takes for the Jedi Order to leave the Chief of State’s office, the more resentment the situation causes in the rank and file of common government officials, and the longer it will take for justice to manifest itself.”
“That doesn’t speak well for my chances of survival. Honestly, if we can’t get a new trial until after I’m executed, don’t bother.”
Bwua’tu shook his head. “We will overturn the death sentence.”
“Which one? The one determined by the court, or the one that’s inevitable when you’re shackled in prison with a criminal population that’s had forty years to learn to hate the Jedi?”
“You feel you are in danger?”
Tahiri sighed. “Probably no more than any other prisoner here. But the shackles