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“Not unmasked,” he said boldly, “but discovered irrefutable evidence of his presence.”

“Then we thank you, Randa Besadii Diori. Deliver your evidence to Gateway’s administrator, Ambassador Organa Solo. I have just been apprised of her presence. Her security force will investigate.”

“I thank you for your time and attention, Senator. Here again are the people with whom you were conversing.” Randa swaggered out of the building. He would do just as the senator suggested: give Leia Organa Solo the villip and let her deal with it. His prompt action—realizing he’d made a mistake—had just saved him, and maybe Gateway itself, from a grim fate.

How clever he was.

Senator Viqi Shesh of Kuat shut down the holoprojector and reached for her maggot-textured villip.

This would not wait. Business, like diplomacy, required making concessions, and she had no qualms about reporting one young Hutt’s treachery.

She stroked the repulsive alien object, detaching her attention from her right hand by eyeing the curtained wall across from her private office’s comm unit. Her servants swept those curtains three times daily for listening devices. Sometimes, they neglected to straighten the folds when they finished. She needed to speak with them—again.

Viqi Shesh had no doubt that the Yuuzhan Vong would soon wrest this galaxy away from the New Republic, just as the New Republic had won it from the Empire. Rapid change created opportunities. There would be a thousand worlds to govern, and Kuat might be treated better if a Kuati held a high position under the Yuuzhan Vong governors. Certainly she would fare better.

The warmaster reacted predictably to her report. “But he has not identified anyone as this operative?”

“Not according to his report, sir.”

The villip’s alien face pulled its scalloped lips to one side in a sneer. “Our experience with Hutts has shown us nothing but treachery,” it said. “We will deal with Randa and his clan. You were correct in reporting him.”

Viqi bowed her head silently. For an instant, she considered mentioning the news about Centerpoint.

No. As soon as the Yuuzhan Vong knew Centerpoint was malfunctioning again, they might strike Coruscant. She had too much to accomplish before that day arrived.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It was unusual for Kubaz to visit Bburru, the largest orbital city in the Duro system. But nowadays, Bburru’s docks were so crowded with offworld construction workers, shippers, and camp followers that the dark, short-trunked trio who arrived—trailed by a bronze astromech droid—attracted little attention in the off-loading area.

The Bburru Docking Authority agent eyed their credentials. According to the datapad, these weren’t typical refugees from Kubindi’s recent invasion. This family had holdings in the Core Worlds, and they were looking for trade. That explained the fine yacht they’d docked in Slip 18-L.

“Everrrything seems to be in order, gentles.” The tall Duros official momentarily mated their datapad with one of his own, programming a map from Port Duggan to CorDuro Shipping’s main office at Duggan Station.

Oddly, a minute after they had passed from sight, he had no memory of their arrival.

Mara found the hooded cloak, trunked mask, and goggles stifling, but she took advantage of the disguise to observe Duros’ reactions as Port Duggan’s long rideway carried them up the dockyard arm to Duggan Station. She caught red-eyed glares, lowered brows, and stares; and if Duros had noses, she didn’t doubt they would’ve wrinkled in distaste. Tresina Lobi had hinted that the Duros, like other species on worlds the Yuuzhan Vong hadn’t reached, resented the refugee influx. On Duro, that might be complicated by general nervousness about the political tensions at Corellia.

They’d arrived from Coruscant in Mara’s newly modified ship, a yacht Lando had picked up for a song—so he claimed—as soon as he realized how easily its broad aft cargo bay could be modified to carry an X-wing. Other hands had shaped this ship, too. Lando’s wife, Tendra, just back from an extended visit to her Saccorian kin, named