each of the various beings he passed. He drew on his dark-side instincts to
guide him to the best means of carrying out his mission.
* * *
Maul came to a halt at the entrance to a noisy cantina. It was the sort of place
where anyone who entered would be appraised by the clientele within, so he moved
quicklya blur to most; to others, just another laborer hurrying in out of the
rain. He slid onto a stool at the bar, keeping his hood raised and his face in
profile when the human female bartender approached.
What can I get you, stranger?
Pure water, Maul growled.
Big spender, huh?
Maul made a negligent motion with his fingers. Youll bring my drink and leave
me alone.
The muscular, tattooed woman blinked twice. Ill bring your drink and leave you
alone.
Maul expanded his peripheral vision to take in the two adjoining rooms. He made
use of the mirror behind the bar to see what his eyes could not, and he drew on
the dark side to fill in the rest.
The cantina had an air of benign neglect, a smell of liquid inebriants and
greasy food. The lighting was deliberately low. Flying insects of various sizes
circled the illuminators, and children of several species ran in and out. Males
and females fraternized openly, with a sense of levity or abandon. Music was
provided by a ragtag band of Bith and fat Ortolans. Along the length of the bar
Weequays conversed with Ugnaughts, Twileks with Gands. Maul was the only
Iridonian in the place, but he was not the only sole representative of a
species.
If some of the residents he had passed on the street were the hunters, the manka
cats, here were the nerfs the cats fed onthe ones who gave themselves over to
intoxicants and games of chance and other vices. It was the sheer absence of
discipline that sickened him. Discipline was the key to power. Unflinching
discipline was what had forged him into a sword master and warrior. Discipline
was what enabled him to defy gravity and slow the inrush of sensory input, so
that he could move between the moments.
Maul sharpened his faculties, extending the range of his hearing to monitor
nearby conversations. Most were as prosaic as he had expected them to be,
revolving around gossip, flirtation, petty complaints, and future plans that
would never be realized.
Then he heard the word sabotage, and his ears pricked up. The customer who had
uttered it was a stout human, seated off to Mauls right in a booth along the
cantinas rear wall. Another human sat opposite him, tall and dark complexioned.
Both men wore the gray lightweight coveralls that were standard issue for
employees of Lommite Limited, but the lack of lommite dust in their hair or on
their clothes made it clear that they werent miners.
A third man, straight-backed and robust-looking, approached while Maul watched
out of the corner of his eye. Maul took a sip of water and turned slightly in
the direction of the booth.
I figured Id find you two here, the new arrival said.
The stout one smiled and made room on the padded bench seat. Step into our
office and well buy you a drink.
The third man sat, but declined the offer with a shake of his head. Maybe
later.
The other two traded looks of surprise. Maul read the lip movements of the
taller one If hes not drinking, then something serious has come up.
The third man nodded. The chief has called a special meeting. He wants us at
his place in half an hour.
Any idea what its about? the stout one asked.
It has to be the shuttle crash, the man opposite him surmised. Bruit probably
has a line on the culprits.
Maul recognized the name. Bruit was Lommite Limiteds chief of field operations.
The three men were probably security personnel.
Like there was any question about the culprits, the stout one was saying.
Its bigger than that, the third man said, lowering his voice almost to the
point where Maul had to strain to hear him. Word has come down from Arrant on
The stout man sat away from the table that bisected the booth. Well, its about
time.
Id say that calls for another round of drinks, his partner said.
Maul continued listening, but his eyes were no longer fixed on the men but on
something he had glimpsed on the wall above the booth. It resembled the
bioluminescent flitter he had captured earlier on. This one, however, wasnt
moving from its spot on the wall. The reason became apparent once Maul probed it
through the Force. Not only was it a fabrication, it was also a listening
device.
Maul scanned the room, then turned to face the mirror. The device wasnt very
sophisticated; its large size was evidence of that. Even so, that didnt mean
that whoever was eavesdropping on the security men had to be inside the cantina.
But Maul suspected that they were. Without looking at it, he focused his
attention on the artificial flitter and screened out all extraneous soundsthe
pulsing music, the dozens of separate conversations, the noises of glasses
clinking or being filled with one inebriant or another. Once he could discern
the muted beeping of the devices transmitter, he listened for signs of the
receiver with which it was in communication.
At a round table in the adjoining room sat a Rodian and two Twileks, ostensibly
engaged in a game of cardssabacc, in all likelihood. Maul watched them for a
moment. Their playing was desultory. He observed their facial expressions as the
security agents continued to converse. When one of the men said something of
interest, the Rodians faceted eyes would flash and his short snout would curl
to one side. At the same time, the Twileks head-tails would twitch and their
pasty faces would flush ever so slightly.
The Rodians left ear was sporting an earbead receiver, while the Twileks
receivers took the form of dermal patches, disguised as lekku tattoos.
Maul was certain that the trio were in the secret employ of Lommite Limiteds
onworld competitor, InterGalactic Ore. He recognized the Rodian from the disk
Sidious had given him. It was possible that they were the saboteurs themselves.
His eyes darted back to the listening device and the security men. Creatures of
habit, they probably occupied the same booth night after night, completely
unaware that their conversations were being monitored. Such carelessness
exasperated Maul to the point of fury. The men were deserving of whatever harm
would surely come their way.
The three security men left the cantina on foot and wended their way to a ribbon
of trail that wove through a dense stand of forest. Maul followed fro m a
discreet distance, keeping to the shadows when Dorvallas moon came up, full and
silver-white.
The trail eventually arrived at a tight-knit community of flimsy dwellings, many
of them raised on stilts to keep them above pools of runoff water left by the
rain. The humidity was oppressive.
The dwelling that was the trios destination was an elevated cube with a metal
roof angled to channel rainwater into a ferrocrete cistern. The cubes only door
was accessed by means of a ladderlike stairway. A rusted landspeeder with a
cracked windscreen was parked in a muddy front lot.
Maul kept to the trees while a thickly built human responded to the stout
agents raps on the door frame.
Come on up, the man said. Everyone else is already here.
Bruit. Darth Maul waited until the three agents were inside, then he hurried
from the shadows and planted himself under an open side window. Not content with
his choice, he ducked beneath the house and clambered up one of the stilts to
wedge himself between the floor joists of the front room. In the room above,
someone was pouring liquid into several glasses.
Maul extracted a miniature recording device from the breast pocket of his
utility suit and placed it against the underside of the rough-hewn floorboards.
Heres the long and short of it, Bruit said while the glasses were being
filled. Arrant has decided that we need to level the playing field. Were going
to strike at InterGal at Eriadu. Our shipments will reach the planet, and theirs
wont.
Someone whistled in astonishment.
Does the boss realize what hes letting loose? perhaps the same man asked.
This is going to lead to a shooting war.
This comes straight from Arrant, Bruit said. Hes been in the trenches
before. Those are his words, and this is his show.
His show and our livelihood, someone pointed out. There has to be a better
way of settling this. What about petitioning the senate to intervene?
A cure that can be worse than the disease, another answered, much to Mauls
amusement. The senate will defer to committees run by corrupt bureaucrats. It
will take months for it to get to the courts.
No senate, no courts, Bruit said. That much has already been decided. Its up
to us.
So what happens at Eriadu?
Weve been able to learn the hyperspace route InterGals ships are going to
take. Theyll arrive by way of Rimma 13, and are scheduled to decant from
hyperspace at 1400 hours, Eriadu local time. The folks were employing to
execute the strike will be able to calculate the precise reentry coordinates.
Who are we employing?
The Toom clan.
Expressions of dismay flew from all corners.
Cutthroats, someone said.
Exactly, Bruit said. But we need to team up to accomplish this, and Arrants
willing to spend the necessary credits. By using them, no one will suspect us,
and Arrant doesnt care, because he doesnt want to know any more than he has
to. He wants to keep his hands clean while I make the connections. Besides, the
Tooms have the means to get the job done.
And no scruples to stand in the way.
Have they agreed to terms?
At first contact, Bruit said. Although I have to say that I sometimes wish I
could see both Lommite and InterGal brought down, so that someone with real
foresight could build a better organization from the dregs.
Several glasses clinked together.
So whats our part in this, Chief, if the deal has already been struck?
Bruit snorted. We need to prepare ourselves for InterGals counterpunch.
Maul peeled the recorder from the floorboards and dropped down to the loamy soil
below the house. He remained still for a long moment, crouched in the darkness,
listening to sounds of distant laughter and the stridulations of profuse insect
life. Then he thought back to Coruscant, and the question his Master had put to
him regarding his double-bladed lightsaber.
It made sense to me to be able to strike with both ends, Maul had answered.
With a note of approval, his Master had said, You must bear that in mind when
you go to Dorvalla.
Maul reached within his cloak and unclipped the long cylinder from his belt. One
end, then the other, Maul told himself. Both, to effect a single purpose.
Maul waited until the moon was low in the sky before he went to Lommite
Limiteds headquarters at the base of the escarpment. The incidents of sabotage
had caused the complex of buildings to be placed on high alert. Armed sentries,
some accompanied by leashed beasts, patrolled, and powerful illuminators cast
circles of brilliant light over the spacious grounds. A five-meter-high
electrified stun fence encompassed everything.
Maul spent an hour studying the movements of the sentries, the periodic sweeps
of the illuminators, the towering fence, and the motion detector lasers that
gridded the broad lawn beyond. He was certain that infrared cams were scanning
the grounds, but there was little he could do about those without leaving
evidence of his infiltration. A probe droid would have been able to tell him all
he needed to know, but there wasnt time and he wanted to do this personally.
To test the possibility that pressure detectors had been installed in the
ground, he used the Force to propel stones over the fence. As they struck
specific places on the lawn, he waited for some response, but the guards
stationed at the entry gates simply continued to go about their business.
When he was satisfied that he had committed the results of his reconnaissance to
memory, he shrugged out of his cloak and leapt straight up over the fence,
landing precisely where some of the rocks he had tossed rested. Then he sprang
to a series of other sites that ultimately carried him to the wall of the
principal building, moving with such speed the entire time that whatever
holorecordings were being made wouldnt show him unless they were played in slow
motion.
He reached one of the doors and found it locked, so he began to work his way
around the building, testing other doors and windows, all of which were
similarly secured.
He tested the buildings flat roof for motion and pressure detectors as he had
the lawn. Vaulting to the top, he was confronted with an expanse of solar
arrays, skylights, and cooling ducts. He moved to the nearest skylight and
ignited his lightsaber. He was ready to plunge the blade through the
transparisteel panel when he stopped himself, and peered more intently at the
panel. Embedded in the transparisteel were monofilament chains, which, when
severed, would trip an alarm.
Deactivating the blade, he reclipped his lightsaber and sat down to think. It
was unlikely that Lommite Limiteds central computer was a stand-alone machine.
It would have to be accessible from outside locations. Bruit would have remote
access. Maul berated himself for not having recognized that fact earlier. But it
wasnt too late to rectify his oversight.
* * *
Maul returned to Bruits dwelling just before sunrise. Unlike the headquarters
complex, the stilted house had no security. The chief of field operations either
didnt have enemies or didnt care, one way or the other. Perhaps Bruit was that
resigned to fate, Maul thought. It scarcely mattered, in any case.
He circled the house, occasionally chinning himself on the windowsills to peer
inside. In a rear room Bruit was sprawled atop a knocked-together bed, half in,
half out of a net tent that was meant to keep nocturnal insects from feasting on
his blood. He was fully clothed, snoring lightly, and dead drunk. A half-emptied
bottle of brandy sat on a small table alongside the bed.
Maul gritted his teeth. More carelessness, more lack of discipline. He couldnt
summon any compassion for the man. The weak needed to be weeded out.
Maul let himself in through the unlocked door and scanned the front room. Bruit
was a man of few worldly possessions, and not a particularly orderly one. His
dwelling was as chaotic as his life appeared to be. The confined space smelled
of spoiled food, and lommite dust coated every horizontal surface. Water dripped
from a sink faucet that could have easily been repaired. Arachnids had woven
perfect webs in all four corners of the room.
Maul searched for Bruits personal computer and located it in the bedroom. It
was a portable device, not much longer than a human hand. He called the machine
to him and activated it. The display screen came to life and a menu presented
itself. It took only moments for Maul to find his way to Lommite Limiteds
central computer, but for the second time that night he found himself locked
out.
The computer was demanding to see Bruits fingerprints.
Maul might have been able to slice his way inside the central computer, but not
without leaving an easily followed trail. What is done in secret has great
power, his Master had said.
Maul gazed at Bruit. With a scant motion of his left hand, he caused the man to
roll over onto his back. Born of some uneasy dream, a prolonged groan escaped
the human. Maul gestured for Bruits right arm to rise, wrist bent, with the
palm of his hand facing outward. Then he stealthily carried the computer to
Bruits hand, easing the display screen into gentle contact with the
outstretched fingers. When the machine had toodled an acknowledgment, Maul
dropped Bruits arm and rolled him back onto his side.
By the time Maul left the bedroom, the directories for the database were
scrolling onscreen. Maul pinpointed the files relating to the imminent Eriadu
delivery and opened them.
The cantina was doing a brisk lunchtime business when Darth Maul stole through
the entrance and took a seat at a corner table in the smaller room. Outside, a
gloomy downpour was inundating the town. He kept the dripping hoo d of his cloak
raised, and he angled himself away from the crowd, ignoring the few second
glances he received.
Two of Lommite Limiteds security men occupied their usual booth, feeding their