Light of the Jedi(73)
“One more left,” came the response from Chief Innamin of the Republic Defense Coalition—Petty Officer Innamin until recently, promoted based on his heroic efforts during the Legacy Run disaster. He and his shipmate, Peeples, then an ensign now a lieutenant, had decided to stay in-system after the disaster to help however they could, as a way of honoring the sacrifice of their captain, Bright, who had died during a rescue attempt on a solar array.
Keven liked that the two officers were contributing their skills—thought it was noble and good. More important, Innamin had the necessary engineering training to be particularly useful here on the Rooted Moon, and to supervise Peeples, even though the lieutenant was technically his superior officer. Peeples didn’t seem to mind, and had even offered to swap ranks with Innamin. The chief declined, after letting out a heavy sigh. In any case, the duo was currently completing the wiring for the subnode tasked to model the fifth Emergence.
Privately, in a way he would never, ever voice, Keven wished there had been a few more Emergences. Every single one was a data point, and so far there had been twenty-nine. Not bad—a pretty good set—but the more information his machine had to draw on, the better. He wouldn’t get a second chance at this, for many reasons.
Mostly for one reason, in fact, something he had purposely decided not to tell the kind people who had helped him gather all these rare and valuable machines for his array.
Keven sent a furtive glance at Jeffo Lorillia, the Republic’s transportation secretary, not far away on the plateau and deep in conversation with Senator Izzet Noor, his long face uncharacteristically animated. Lorillia had pulled in incredible favors to bring so many navidroids together, and on such short notice. The Outer Rim was still in its hyperspace quarantine, much to Senator Noor’s intense frustration, but Secretary Lorillia’s requisition had taken so many navidroids out of circulation that it wasn’t just the Outer Rim experiencing shortages. Shipping all over the Republic was beginning to be affected.
Yes, if Keven’s algorithm performed correctly, they would know where the Emergences would happen next, and could end the blockade—but that was a big if. He only had fifty-seven thousand droids, when the number he actually needed was more like twice that. The calculations he had to run would now take at least double the time, even pushing his system to the limit. That much stress on the machine for that long would generate…well. He had his doubts about how many of these hugely precious electronic brains would make it through the process. That was the essential fact he had chosen not to share with Secretary Lorillia. The array, once powered on, would be hungry, and what it ate…was navidroids.
But this was the solution he had. He had to try—even though he knew what would happen to him if he failed. That’s what good people did.
“Peeples! Get your toe out of there! What do you think you’re—oh, that’s actually a pretty good idea, I guess,” Chief Innamin said over the comlink, his voice a little distant, as if he had turned to yell at someone on his side of the transmission. Then he came back, strong and loud. “We’re good here, Mr. Tarr. Linkage complete.”
“Thank you, Chief—and you can call me Keven. Clear the area, and pull out any other teams you see out there. Get off the plateau, back up here on the observation platform.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Just pull everyone back, all right?”
Keven lifted a datapad, the central control unit for the entire array. He shot off a quick prayer to the Vine Matron, patron saint of the area on Hetzal Prime where he had been raised, then tapped the single button that turned the whole blasted thing on.
* * *
Farther along the plateau, Senator Izzet Noor fanned his face as the huge networked array of navidroids hummed into life. It sounded like a hive of insects—not even a sound, really, more like a sensation, just below the level of true perception. He was also praying, but not to the Vine Matron, more of an unfocused “please, please, please” muttered under his breath.
All over the Outer Rim, worlds were on the verge of revolt. While the chancellor had authorized aid shipments to worlds suffering from lack of hyperspace transit, it was still far from life as usual, and the occasional shipment of emergency rations wasn’t the way to quell unrest.
If this Keven Tarr’s insane droid scheme didn’t work, he’d have to go to Chancellor Soh and beg her to reopen the hyperlanes, regardless of the danger. At a certain point, she would have to see that the damage being done to the people of the Rim outweighed the risk of another Legacy Run–style crisis.
“Can you believe all this?” Noor said to Jeni Wataro, his closest aide going on ten years. She was Chagrian, with blue skin and thick, horn-tipped tentacles curling out from the sides of her head and draping down across her chest. Wataro was essential to his work in endless ways. Every politician could use a Chagrian aide, Noor believed.
“What do you mean, Senator?” Wataro said.
Noor gestured vaguely out at the gigantic droid array spread out on the plateau before them.
“All this, Wataro. Use your eyes. We’re going to such massive expense, and there’s no guarantee that this will even work. I don’t see any reason why we can’t just reopen the hyperlanes.
“And you know what?” he continued, turning to her. “Someone else out there clearly already has the ability to predict Emergences, based on what happened at Eriadu.”