Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [77]
She rose, preparatory to moving into the back chamber and the holo-recorder there. “Maybe we can get one last team of Jedi in before things come completely unhinged. Everyone, prep for your assignments.”
The monitors throughout the Chief of State’s offices showed the main feed from HoloNews. In succession, they displayed images of crowds, growing in size and increasing in energy, massing in the vicinity of the Senate Building; of journalists offering interpretations of events; of stock recordings of Mandalorian transports; of Mando infantry operations in the past and their considerable destructive potential.
Wynn was watching the end of one of these rapid news cycles when his office door slid aside and Chief Daala, flanked by two Fleet Intelligence security agents, swept in. Wynn stood. The security specialists glanced around then stepped back out, and the door closed.
Daala gestured at Wynn’s monitor, her hand shaking with her anger. “How did it leak? How did it leak so fast?”
Wynn shrugged, hoping it looked more hapless than uncaring. “The orders to commence an operation like this have to pass through several hands. Dozens. In theory, there could be a leak at any point. It could be something as malevolent as a traitor, or it could be a data tap placed by an unusually skilled newsbeing.”
“It’s the first one. I’ve been betrayed, Wynn. And this is a time of galactic crisis. Treason at this level is punishable by execution.”
“I know that, Admiral.”
“Find out who leaked the information. I expect arrests within the day. I’m also putting Fleet Intelligence on the search.”
“We’ll be stumbling all over one another, interfering with one another’s investigations.”
She fixed him with a cold stare. “I need the redundancy … in case you’re the source of the leak.” She turned and left, moving so fast that the door nearly scraped her face as it slid open.
Wynn gulped. He sat and returned to his monitor, issuing orders for trusted subordinates to begin the most intensive, no-stone-unturned investigation this environment had seen since … well, since the hunt for Seha Dorvald’s poison device, just a couple of days previously.
In between bouts of sending out orders, he continued to work on his letter of resignation.
Grudgingly, the Senate Building’s security center issued authorization for the Millennium Falcon to land in a hangar bay. Han brought the transport in with his customary skill, the smoothness of the landing revealing no trace of the tension that gripped him, of the imaginary piranha-beetles flying formations in his stomach.
Once the transport was down, he commenced an abbreviated shutdown procedure, glanced at Leia, and looked back at the other two in the cockpit. “You two know what to do.”
“Pardon me, sir, I’m not certain I do.” C-3PO raised his arms in a vague and hopeless gesture. “I’m not even sure of the purpose of this errand. I assume you’re offering Chief Daala comfort and wisdom in the face of the growing numbers of protesters outside …”
Han rolled his eyes. “Something like that. I expect she’ll feel very different by the time we leave the building. Goldilocks, your specific task is to stay on the ship, to alert me or Leia if anyone comes aboard, and to follow Artoo’s instructions if he offers any.”
“Oh, sir, it’s folly, very dangerous folly, to put Artoo in charge of anything. He’s too impetuous, too much the daredevil …”
Han left, Leia beside him, the two of them breezing past R2-D2 at the cockpit entrance.
At the bottom of the boarding ramp waited Desha Lor, Wynn’s Twi’lek assistant. Today her black suit seemed to match the mood of the surroundings, the growing hostility and seriousness outside. She shook her head slowly, causing her lekku to sway. “I don’t think the Chief of State will be able to fit you in today.”
Leia’s voice was cordial but firm. “We’ll stay in her waiting room. Please tell Wynn that we insist on seeing her