out. That should have filled him with dread, but when he

  could see clearly, Emtrey looked at him from afar.

  And looking at the stone, he knew he was looking down,

  which meant things for him were definitely looking up.

  Evir Derricote, slaving with the other Imperial prisoners at

  the far end of the cavern, turned to look at the commotion

  the Rebels were causing, but he did not hurry to do so. It

  would have been beneath him to let them think their squab-

  bles were of interest to him. Affecting an air of nonchalance,

  he turned and watched them disinterestedly. Then he saw Corran Horn.

  The diminutive Rebel had irked him the first time they

  had met, then had compounded his error by gloating over his

  part in taking Borleias. As the Rebel reared back to throw

  something, Derricote almost called out a warning to the

  guards, but something forestailed him. He watched Corran

  make his throw and saw a small missile shoot up toward the

  ceiling.

  Derricote lost it in the shadows above and began to

  wonder what Horn was up to. The rock he had thrown

  clearly was insufficient to dislodge a stalactite or trigger a

  collapse of the ceiling. As unwise and annoying as Horn had

  appeared to be, Derricote never would have classed him as

  suicidal, yet if he was successful in an effort to dislodge a big

  piece of rock, it would drop straight down on him and the

  carpet of stunned prisoners covering the cavern floor.

  The Imperial General saw Horn go down. The little fool

  will likely be bit by the rock he threw. Serves him right.

  Derricote almost turned away, but stopped to see if his pre-

  diction would come true. It did not.

  He did not see the stone fall back to the earth.

  This started General Derricote thinking. He prided him-

  self on being intelligent. He had, after all, created the Krytos

  virus. It was not his fault that Ysanne Isard's expectations

  for it were unrealistic. He had done his best, but that was not

  good enough for her, so he ended up in her private prison,

  subject to her whims. The whims that imprisoned me can

  also free me.

  Derricote could think of dozens of explanations for why

  the stone did not fall back to the cavern floor. The simplest

  explanation was that it had become lodged between stalac-

  tites. However, for that to happen, Horn would have to be

  incredibly lucky. He doubted the prisoners would have

  staged the sort of charade that shielded Horn's effort just so

  he could test his luck in a place that, ultimately, housed those

  who were utterly without luck.

  One by one Derricote examined and discarded explana-

  tions for the rock remaining on the ceiling and, at last, hit

  upon the only one that seemed to make sense. Iceheart has us

  standing on our heads. Any fool who tries to escape to the

  surface will just go deeper and deeper into her prison. Horn

  discovered this fact, tested his hypothesis, and has his result.

  And, just as obviously, he means to use it to escape.

  The general slowly smiled. He could easily let the guards

  know Horn was planning to escape, but doing that would

  make him nothing more than an informant. Informing was

  weak and would not be rewarded by Ysanne Isard. She

  wanted action. She wanted him to do something to atone for

  his failure. To please her he would have to act, because tak-

  ing action was strong.

  This Horn will bear watching. When he moves, I will be

  ready. Derricote tugged at the abbreviated sleeves of his tu-

  nic. He will become the source of my redemption and I will

  once again know the glory of service to the Empire!

  26

  "Thank you, Admiral, I do have questions for Tsillin Wel."

  Nawara Ven sorted through his set of datacards, then fed one

  into his datapad. On the long journey to and from Ryloth

  he'd read Wel's depositions and had formulated a series of

  questions to ask her. There really was little to dispute in

  what she had to say, but he needed to make certain the Tri-

  bunal understood the limitations of what she had testified to.

  In direct testimony the Quarren had seemed a bit testy,

  and Admiral Ackbar had admonished her to be cooperative.

  If needed, Nawara knew he could exacerbate that natural

  Mon Calamari-Quarren enmity and completely discredit her

  testimony in Ackbar's eyes. Generals Salm and Madine, on

  the other hand, might react negatively if he provoked her.

  Combat piloting is often much easier than this.

  Nawara looped a lekku over his shoulder. "Agent Wel,

  according to your earlier testimony, you've been auditing

  Imperial expenditures for years, is that correct?"

  The Quarren's facial tentacles quivered. "I have said

  this, yes."

  "And the purpose for studying these expenditures was to

  estimate how much money the Empire was pouring into anti-

  Rebel activities, correct?"

  "Yes."

  "This means you were looking for evidence of expenses

  that were hidden--black projects, so to speak, that did not

  appear on any official Imperial budget."

  The Quarren nodded. "Budgets for such things are regu-

  larly hidden within other programs. A terra-forming budget

  might, for example, have miscellaneous expenses linked to it

  that cover the cost of military development projects. Prior to

  our taking of Coruscant I would compare known expenses

  with the budget expenditures and create a picture of what

  the Empire was spending."

  "t see." Nawara glanced down at his datapad. "Now,

  you have told the court that my client, Captain Celchu, was

  paid approximately fifteen million credits over the past two

  years. This would be the amount of time that has passed

  since his escape from Imperial custody. Is that a fair summa-

  rization of your testimony?"

  The Quarren's turquoise eyes glinted wetly. "I indicated

  that fifteen million credits is all we have been able to un-

  cover. The money is located in six different accounts. There

  could be more."

  "But you are uncertain of that?"

  "Counselor Ven, since the occupation of Coruscant I

  have been working night and day analyzing Intelligence ac-

  counts. There are literally millions of accounts. I feel fortu-

  nate to have uncovered the six we have found so far."

  Nawara pressed his hands together. "But these six ac-

  counts are not the only accounts you have looked at, cor-

  rect?"

  "No, I have reviewed thousands of accounts myself, and

  my staff has reviewed nearly a million."

  "So the accounts you have linked with my client are not

  remarkable?"

  "I don't understand the question."

  "Allow me to rephrase it." Nawara smiled. "How many

  Imperial agents have you found that have funds in numerous

  accounts ?"

  A translucent membrane nictitated up over Tsillin Wel's

  eyes. "A few."

  "A few what? Dozen? Hundred? Thousand?"

  "Dozen."

  "And how many
of those individuals have six ac-

  counts?"

  The Quarren shifted slightly in the witness chair. "So

  far, none, but we have a great deal of work to do yet."

  Nawara nodded. "Now, discovering the links between

  these files and an agent is not easy work, is it?"

  "No."

  "Is one of the difficulties that Imperial Intelligence took

  pains to make it difficult to locate the identities of their

  agents?"

  "Yes."

  "Do they encrypt data?"

  "Yes."

  "Do the encryption routines vary in difficulty depending

  upon the value of the agent?"

  "Objection." Halla Ettyk stood. "Calls for speculation

  on the part of the witness."

  "Admiral, Agent Wel is overseeing an Intelligence divi-

  sion that has been at war with Imperial Intelligence for years.

  Clearly she would be familiar with the degree of security the

  Empire used to protect its assets and hide information."

  "Overruled. You may answer the question as best you

  are able."

  Wel's facial tentacles rolled up and slowly unfurled.

  "Encryption does become more difficult the more valuable

  the asset. The methods used to hide Captain Celchu's iden-

  tity show him to be of middling importance to the Empire."

  Nawara smiled. "So you have uncovered other agents on

  the same level of importance as him?" "Dozens. Hundreds."

  "And each of them had fifteen million credits paid out?"

  The Quarren hesitated. "No."

  "No? How much were they paid?"

  "Thousands."

  "So you're saying that while Captain Celchu was pro-

  tected like an agent of little value, he was paid out of all

  proportion with his apparent worth to Imperial Intelli-

  gence?"

  "That is one conclusion that could be drawn from the

  accounts."

  "Is the other perhaps that he was set up to look like a

  valuable agent as part of a frame-up?" "Objection. Speculation."

  "Withdrawn." Nawara nodded to Commander Ettyk.

  "Agent Wel, how much money has Captain Celchu taken

  from his accounts?"

  Wel's tentacles writhed. "None."

  "To your knowledge, is there any evidence that Tycho

  Celchu knew the accounts existed?"

  "No.'

  Perfect. "So these accounts could have been set up and

  made to look as if Captain Celchu was an Imperial agent

  without his knowledge, specifically to discredit him in a trial

  like this?"

  Yes."

  Nawara let his smile blossom fully. "And in your experi-

  ence, has Imperial Intelligence ever set up such accounts to

  attempt to make the Alliance think someone is an agent in

  their employ?"

  The Quarren glanced down at her hands. "Yes. At least

  once."

  "And who was that?"

  Tsillin Wel glanced up at the bearded man sitting at Ad-

  miral Ackbar's left. "General Crix Madine. I found the ac-

  counts and also proved they were false."

  "And you have diligently applied yourself to proving the

  accounts you have linked to Captain Celchu are false as well,

  correct?"

  The Quarren shook her head. "That is not part of my

  job."

  "So you just manufacture evidence for the state. Truth

  means nothing."

  "Objection."

  "Sustained." Admiral Ackbar looked down at Nawara.

  "You have made your point, Counselor Ven. There is noth-

  ing more you can gain on this line."

  "Yes, Admiral." Newera returned to the defense bench.

  "No further questions."

  In the holding cell, Nawara rubbed some warmth back into

  the tip of his right lekku. "No, you're right, Captain, we did

  score points today. I think General Madine will question

  whether or not you're being paid off."

  Tycho smiled over at him. "That's good, yes?"

  "In a way, yes."

  "What do you mean?"

  Nawara shrugged. "The idea that you're an agent who

  was being paid by the Empire isn't supposed to impress the

  Tribunal--it's meant to impress the public. It's only one of

  three motives that would explain your actions. It does pro-

  vide the prosecution with an embarrassment of riches. Greed

  is the easiest thing for most folks to understand, especially

  when you're talking that much in the way of credits."

  Tycho's binders clicked against the edge of the table as

  he slid his hands from it and held them against his chest.

  "Corran's threatening to expose me is another motive.

  What's the last one?"

  "Lusankya." Neware opened his hands. "The Tribunal,

  at this point, has a choice. If they assume you betrayed the

  squadron because you were being paid or because you feared

  what Corran would uncover, they can convict you of murder

  and treason without any problem. Everyone will understand

  what happened and there won't be any messy details to deal

  with. If they decide, on the other hand, that you did what

  you did because of Imperial brainwashing at Lusankya, then

  they would be bound to find you innocent by reason of di-

  minished sapience. In that case you'd be placed into a hospi-

  tal and treated for your affliction, to be released whenever

  you are cured."

  Tycho stared down at his hands. "Which could be

  never."

  "That's your nightmare. Their nightmare is that some

  Emdee-oh droid with a Cognitive Matrix analysis package

  will unscramble your brain and declare you cured in a week

  or two. They'd have to let you go free, which would make

  the justice system seem impotent."

  Tycho's head came up and the bright blue of his eyes

  surprised Neware with its intensity. "What you're saying is

  that the sabacc cards have been programmed against me."

  "It's worse than you know." Neware jerked a thumb

  toward the exterior wall. "The day we got back from Ryloth,

  the Palpatine Counter-insurgency Front blew up a school.

  It's been thirty-six hours and they've still not found all the

  bodies. Some were vaporized in the explosion, unrecover-

  able-just like Corran's. Both humans and non died in the

  blast. Someone claiming responsibility said that such acts of

  terror would continue until the state's sham trial of you, an

  obviously innocent man, was ended and you were set free."

  "What?" Tycho shook his head. "In court you showed

  that the Imps had planted the information to frame me, and

  now you're telling me that they're saying I've been framed?

  What's going on?"

  "Your trial is divisive. The government is using it to

  show they, unlike the Empire, can handle things in an open

  manner. Imperial agents, on the other hand, are making it

  look like evidence is being trumped up against you. It makes

  humans think you're a sacrifice being offered up to keep the

  Alliance together. The non-human population already thinks

  you're guilty and somehow responsible for the Krytos vi-

  rus-it doesn't matter that you had nothing to do with it."

  Tycho leaned forward and slapped his hands on the ta-

&n
bsp; ble. "Nawara, you have to let me testify on my own behalf. I

  can convince them I'm innocent."

  The Twi'lek sat back. "You've been talking to Diric

  again, haven't you?"

  Tycho nodded. "He visited me while you and Wedge

  were gone. Aside from Winter, he was my only visitor. He

  says that talking to me has him convinced I'm innocent."

  "That's great for him, but he was also an Imperial pris-

  oner, so he feels a sense of kinship to you. Most other folks

  don't have that bond."

  Tycho raised an eyebrow. "You endured Imperial dis-

  crimination against non-humans. Can you really say you

  weren't an Imperial prisoner?"

  Nawara hesitated for a moment. The greatest thing for

  him about joining the Rebellion had been having the weight

  of oppression lifted from him. As a non-human he was

  treated as inconsequential by the Empire. Imperial magis-

  trates would ignore him and his objections, or they would

  overrule him and threaten him with contempt for wasting the

  court's time by bringing up points of law. He knew that at

  any moment he could be gathered up in some Intelligence

  sweep and incarcerated for whatever was left of his life, and

  no one would know.

  Fear was once a constant factor in his life. Then he

  joined the Alliance, and while he didn't fully leave fear be-

  hind, he was given control over it. Now, with the Empire in

  retreat, that same control had been extended to others. Even

  the most despised individuals in the Empire now knew free-

  dom.

  And still have a taste for revenge against their oppres-

  sors.

  "Yes, I could say I, too, was their prisoner, Captain, but

  that doesn't matter. The fact is that if you testify, Com-

  mander Ettyk will destroy you on cross-examination."

  "How?"

  "She'll go back through your life and make it into a

  mockery of what it's been." Nawara's eyes narrowed to

  bloody crescents. "She'll point out that you volunteered for

  the Imperial Academy and were a successful TIE fighter pilot.

  She'll suggest you were so callous that you were speaking to

  your family and fianc& via the holonet at the precise mo-

  ment Alderaan was destroyed--all because you had learned,

  being as you have always been an Imperial Intelligence agent,