Star Wars_ I, Jedi - Michael A. Stackpole [117]
“You won’t be doing it, I will.”
I shook my head adamantly. “Booster, we won’t find Mirax until we find the Invidious, and you’re not going to have any more luck at finding it than the New Republic has. Tavira’s got people who can use the Force. They will know when you’re coming and they’ll leave or, worse yet, they’ll use their fully armed Impstar to blast the Venture to scrap.”
Booster pounded his fist in his open hand. “She’s my daughter, CorSec, I have to do something!”
“I know that. She’s my wife, and I have to do something, too. I have to act, but not before I’m ready.” I leaned forward. “Meet me halfway, Booster. If you don’t, she’ll die, and neither one of us will be happy for the rest of our lives. In your case that won’t be long because I’ll kill you.”
Booster scoffed. “You’ll try.”
“There is no try, Booster.” I let the edge bleed out of my voice. “I need you to do two things. First, use your network and get me as much data as you can about the Invid crews. I want to know who is shipping on what and out of where. If it gets to a point where we have to hit, I want to make sure we hit hard and hurt them badly.”
“Done.” Booster smiled. “Karrde may think he’s the data-lord of the New Republic, but I’ve flipped bits he’s not even aware exist.”
“Good.”
My father-in-law picked up the holocube and froze a recent shot of Mirax so she smiled at both of us. “What’s the other thing?”
I tried to sound nonchalant. “Get me into Corellia and out again.”
Booster lost his grip on the holocube, dropping it to the desk. “Get you in past the Diktat’s watchmen? And out again? Have you lost what little mind you have?”
“I hope not, because if I have, neither one of us will see your daughter again.” I stood and held my lightsaber aloft. “It’s going to be a Corellian Jedi that saves your daughter, and unless I get home and back out again, there just flat out aren’t going to be any Corellian Jedi around to do the job.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
My perspective as a member of the Corellian Security Force had never really led me to a proper appreciation for how well Booster Terrik operated. Our animosity had shielded me from his professionalism. Now, with his being galvanized by his effort to find and save his daughter, Booster pushed himself into overdrive with truly remarkable results.
Securing for me false identification documents took less time than I would have imagined. Booster’s people accessed a database of pre-existing dataphantoms and merely attached my holographs to them. Using the Destroyer’s own Imperial-issue document fabrication machinery, I had three sets of documents in no time. One for getting me onto Corellia, one for walking around on Corellia and a third for getting me back out.
I smiled. The Rebellion’s insertion of Rogue Squadron onto Coruscant hadn’t provided documentation this good.
After that Booster sent me to the middle of the three “luxury” deck levels on board. These decks were each fitted out with a variety of establishments suited to the clientele allowed access to them. The lowest of the decks made pestholes like Mos Eisley look luxurious. On Black Level the denizens consisted mostly of out-of-work crews, poor folks looking for cheap transit, criminals, petty thieves, swindlers and con men. I’m not exactly certain why Booster allowed them on his ship, but even they might have information he could sell elsewhere.
Blue Level, where he sent me, was a bit more respectable than Treasure Ship Row down in Coronet City on Corellia. I saw just enough unsavory characters—Boba Fett wannabes, Han Solo wannabes and, albeit too few, Princess Leia wannabes. Mostly I saw traders and dealers and adventurous sorts who seemed to find shipping aboard a fearsome Star Destroyer thrilling. And Traders’ Alley—the cash-only