The Lost Ones

13

Peckhum shifted the strap of the travel duffel to his other shoulder as he trudged away from the Lightning Rod’s low-rent docking station, where many smugglers and con artists also parked their ships. It was good to be back in the city, if only because the equipment worked in his apartment, which was more than he could say about the facilities aboard the mirror station.

Despite his heavy pack, the grizzled old man slid through the broad streets and narrow alleyways with unconscious ease, muttering to himself as he went. “‘You’ll just have to make do, Peckhum.’ ‘We’ve got procurement problems, Peckhum.’ ‘New equipment is expensive, Peckhum.’ ‘Central multitasking units don’t grow on starflower vines, Peckhum.’” Scratching at his chin stubble with one hand, he continued to rant, as used to talking to himself as he was to talking to Zekk.

He growled. “You’d think they’d at least wait till I got off my ship to tell me the news. ‘We tried to reach you, Peckhum, but we couldn’t get through.’ Serves ’em right, since they haven’t fixed my comm system!” He shifted his duffel again. “‘Your replacement was reassigned to an additional security detail due to the recent Imperial attack, Peckhum. We need you back at the station tomorrow, Peckhum.’ Hah!”

He stomped ahead, hardly noticing the cheery merchants, the wide-eyed tourists, the self-absorbed civil servants. “I just wish the administrator in charge of the mirror station would stop sitting in his comfy office down here and go up for a field trip. Feed him some of the swill the food-prep units have been putting out and see how much he likes it! See how well he’d ‘make do.’”

Peckhum turned a corner and made his way down the corridor toward his home. “If I waited for those bureaucrats to get something done, why, the whole station would fall apart.” Then he smiled at the thought of Zekk’s promise of a new central multitasking unit. “Sometimes you just gotta do things for yourself … with a little help from your friends.”

Peckhum looked up with satisfaction to find himself at his door. He keyed in the unlocking code, and the door slid open with a whoosh of escaping air. The air smelled stale and musty, as if it had been recycled over and over again for days. He’d have to remind Zekk to let in some fresh air now and then.

He tossed his duffel inside the front entry-way, as the door sealed itself behind him. No friendly voice rang out to greet him. “Hey, Zekk!” he called. The apartment seemed oppressively silent, so he raised his voice a bit. “After three days of breathing from bad tanks on the mirror station, even this air smells good, but …” He paused. There was no response. “Zekk?”

He looked around the cluttered main living area, then searched the food-prep chamber, Zekk’s bedroom, even the refresher unit. All empty.

A concerned frown crinkled Peckhum’s forehead. Zekk rarely went out when he knew Peckhum was returning from a job—especially not when he had promised to deliver a piece of scavenged equipment. But Peckhum saw no sign of the central multitasking unit. He would need it before the next morning’s trip back up to the station.

He scratched his cheeks again and thought for a moment. Then he relaxed. “Of course,” he said to himself, “the Solo kids.”

Zekk’s friends Jacen and Jaina would be on Coruscant for only a few weeks. They were probably all out somewhere, enjoying themselves, telling tall tales of their adventures on other planets. Glancing back, he noticed the winking light on the infopanel beside the front door. That meant some messages hadn’t been picked up yet. Probably just Zekk letting him know where he and his friends were, Peckhum thought.

There were three messages in all. Peckhum reviewed them. The first message showed the image of Jaina and Jacen Solo, standing with the other two young Jedi Knights.

“Hey, Zekk,” Jacen said in his characteristically good-humored voice. “We came to go on the scavenger hunt with you for that unit Peckhum needs. It was this morning, wasn’t it? We’ll come by again tomorrow morning. Let us know if there’s a change of plans.”

As the next message played, Jaina Solo appeared, her hair straight and her expression concerned. “Zekk, it’s us. Are you all right? We’ve been looking for you everywhere! I’m sorry if you still feel bad about the other night—it’s okay, really. Can you call us when you get home?”

The final message showed Jaina again, her face anxious and drawn. She spoke slowly, as if each of her words stuck in her throat. “Zekk, are you upset about anything? We’re all really … sorry if we said anything to make you feel uncomfortable at the banquet. If you’ve already found that central multitasking unit and you don’t want to take us scavenger hunting with you right now, we’ll understand. Please talk to us, if you get this message.”

As Peckhum listened, his stomach contracted with dread. Something had to be wrong. He looked around again, seeing no signs that the boy had planned to leave. No messages. No notes.

That was unlike Zekk. He was more reliable than that. Others might brush him off as a young scoundrel or a street urchin, but Zekk knew his responsibilities well and always met them. He had promised Peckhum a new central multitasking unit, knowing how important it was to the mirror station. If Zekk told him he was going to do something, the boy did it. Always.

Sure, Zekk was an orphan, a joker, a teller of tall tales, an adventurer—but he had always been a good friend, and he had always been completely reliable.

Almost before he knew it, his decision was made. Stopping only to leave a brief videomessage for Zekk on the infopanel, just in case the boy came back, he headed out the door toward the palace.

“Hey, am I glad to see you!” Jacen said, opening the door to find Peckhum standing there bedraggled and distraught. “Do you know where Zekk is? Have you seen him? Have you heard from him?”

Peckhum’s face gave Jacen his answer. “I was hoping maybe you’d have some news for me,” the old spacer said.

Suddenly remembering his manners, Jacen gestured Peckhum inside. “Uh, sorry. Come on in. I’ll get Jaina and the others.”

His sister and Lowie were at work plotting orbital debris patterns in their holo simulation, while Tenel Ka polished the weapons at her belt.

“Hey,” Jacen said, “Peckhum’s here, and he says he doesn’t know where Zekk is either.”

His sister’s intent expression turned to one of concern. Lowie scrambled to his feet and pulled Jaina to hers. Back in the living area, all five of them reviewed a map of Imperial City, bending over a projection while Tenel Ka indicated several highlighted blocks of skyscrapers. “We have searched this area near your home,” she told Peckhum.

Jacen crowded next to the image. “And we went to some of the places Zekk took us when we were scavenger hunting,” he added. “The ones we could find our way back to, that is.”

Peckhum nodded, scratching at his stubble, a distracted look on his face.

“Anakin and Threepio even went to a couple of the places that Zekk had talked about—didn’t find anything,” Jaina said. “We’d hoped you could offer us some other suggestions about where to look.”

Lowie rumbled a comment, and Em Teedee said, “Master Lowbacca wishes to point out that our lack of familiarity with the, shall we say, ‘less savory’ aspects of Imperial City is, perhaps, an impediment to our search.” The Wookiee growled at this overblown translation, but made no further comment.

“He’s right, you know,” Jaina said. “We really only know the good parts of the city.”

Tenel Ka added, “And we were not absolutely certain until now that Zekk was missing. Your observations make it more definite.”

“Hey, now that Peckhum’s back, and we know for sure that Zekk’s missing,” Jacen said, “we can report his disappearance to security.”

Peckhum looked up sharply. “No, not security. Zekk wouldn’t want that.”

“But he’s missing,” Jaina pleaded. “We have to find him.”

Jacen was surprised to see tears spring to his sisters eyes.

“Yes,” Peckhum agreed, “but Zekk has had a few … ‘misunderstandings’ with security before, and he wouldn’t thank us for calling them in. Don’t worry, though—I can probably think of a lot of places you wouldn’t have known to check.”

“Well,” Jacen said reluctantly, “that means we’ll have to keep searching by ourselves then, but your ideas will be a big help, Peckhum. I guess it’s still up to us.”

“Zekk is a tough kid,” Peckhum pointed out with forced optimism. “He’s been through a lot, and he can take care of himself.” Then his voice dropped. “I sure hope he’s all right.”