The Lost Ones

4

Voraciously hungry after their adventure, the four young Jedi Knights followed Zekk back to where he made his home. Since much of Coruscant’s population had fled the capital world during the devastating battles of the Rebellion, many of the midlevel apartments had been left empty but still serviceable. People scraped out a decent existence there without being forced to live in squalor far below at the bottom levels.

For years, Zekk had shared quarters with old Peckhum. The thin, gray-haired man had no particular career, but spent his days doing odd jobs such as transporting cargo in his battered ship, the Lightning Rod, or performing whatever duties the New Republic required. Zekk and the old supply runner got along well and helped each other as if they were family, providing mutual support, company, and a place to stay.

Zekk led the companions through dim corridors on the way to his apartment. At the entrance Jaina saw that Peckhum had installed a new messaging center beside the door so that visitors could leave videonotes if no one was home.

“We can kick back here for a while,” Zekk said, tucking the hawk-bat egg into the crook of his elbow as his nimble fingers punched in an access code.

The metal door slid aside to reveal a paradise of junk—rooms stacked high with salvaged items, partially restored antiques, and strange gadgets whose original use had long since been forgotten. A small sapphire-feathered bird flitted around inside, but Jaina couldn’t tell if the creature was a pet or just some stray that had wandered in to look for nesting materials.

A grizzled old man stood up from a rickety table where he had been poring over manifest files on a scuffed datapad. He had lank gray hair, a leathery face, and a broad smile—and he very much needed a shave. “Ah, Zekk, you’re back.” He looked past the teenager. “And you’ve brought guests. Hello, my young Jedi friends.”

Zekk sealed the door behind them, and Jacen immediately began trying to catch the bird, while Tenel Ka poked around suspiciously in the stacked cases and gadgets, as if attempting to uncover traps. Lowie sniffed at a cluttered jumble of electronic equipment.

Zekk beamed proudly as he held out the mottled hawk-bat egg. “Look at this prize!” he said. “How much do you think we can get for it?”

Peckhum nodded with enthusiasm as he held out his hands to take the egg gently in his grasp. “More than a hundred credits, I’d guess. Plenty of zoos and biological establishments are begging for a specimen like this.”

Jacen said sternly, “Just make sure it goes to a good home. I made promises to its mother.”

Peckhum laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll never understand you Jedi Knights. But I don’t suppose that’ll be too difficult,” he said. “In fact, I think I’ll even talk to your mother—I heard a rumor that the Chief of State was looking for some unusual zoological specimens.”

Jacen blinked his eyes in astonishment. “Our mom wanted to collect weird animals? She could have just asked me….”

Peckhum shrugged. “I didn’t ask why she wanted it. I think it’s for some sort of diplomatic gift. And I think this egg, with the proper incubating apparatus, might just do the trick!”

Jaina found a place to sit down, perching herself on a stack of recycled blankets that Peckhum no doubt intended to sell to some alien merchant. Zekk hurried off to prepare a quick lunch. “Last time we saw you, Peckhum,” Jaina said conversationally, “you were cornered by a jungle monster on Yavin 4.”

Peckhum laughed nervously at the memory. “I haven’t been that scared in a dozen years!” he said. “Let’s hope your jungle moon gets a little more civilized.”

“Are you making another supply run to the Jedi academy soon?” Jacen asked.

“No, I’ve been assigned to riding the mirrors up in Coruscant orbit,” Peckhum said. “It’s a lonely job, but the pay is good—and somebody’s got to do it. Besides, it’s relaxing … if you look at it that way.”

Because so much of the surface of Coruscant was covered by cities, engineers had long ago found ways to make even the cold northern and southern latitudes more habitable. By focusing sunlight from huge orbiting mirrors, they could direct enough warmth to thaw land as far north as the arctic, so that millions upon millions could live even in Coruscant’s less hospitable areas.

Jaina understood the engineering difficulties of operating the huge automated mirrors, of making sure that the beams of directed sunlight shone down on appropriate areas. The job was not unlike the ancient task of running a lighthouse on an ocean world, where people worked alone, ready for emergencies that rarely came.

“Such an austere assignment would provide a good environment for contemplation,” Tenel Ka pointed out.

“It does that, all right,” Peckhum said. “I just wish conditions weren’t so … basic.”

“What makes the mirror station so uncomfortable?” Jaina asked. “Don’t you have entertainment systems and food-processing units up there?”

Peckhum snorted. “According to the design, yes. But they’re all malfunctioning. The mirror stations were set up long ago, even before the Emperor took over. During the Imperial years, riding the mirror station was a punishment assigned to stormtroopers who had disobeyed orders.

“Nowadays, the food-prep units, entertainment systems, temperature control systems—even the communication systems—all fritz out randomly. No repair tech is willing to go up and give the whole station an overhaul. The New Republic has so much other business that I’m afraid getting spiffy holovideo reception for the mirror station just isn’t high on anyone’s priority list.”

Jaina pursed her lips and placed her chin in her hands. “Those symptoms you described sound familiar,” she said. “Could be you need a new central multitasking unit. That might fix everything all at once.”

Peckhum switched off his datapad and tucked it into a satchel hanging from the seat. “Don’t I know it! But those units are expensive and hard to come by. I’ve requested a new system five times, and it’s always been turned down. ‘The resources of the New Republic are allocated according to greatest need,’” he said, as if quoting from a report. “My comfort isn’t a great enough need.” He scratched his stubbled chin. “Oh well, I’ll survive. It’s a job. Last month I used some of my own credits to get a hand-held holoplayer to take up with me. It’ll do.”

Zekk came out of the kitchen area balancing a stack of self-heating ration cans in his arms. “I know where we can get a central multitasking unit!” He pressed his chin against the top can in the stack to hold them all in position. “Remember that old shuttle we found? Models like that had lots of subsystems. They must have had units to run everything.”

“Sure did,” Jaina said, nodding vigorously. “Those outdated passenger shuttles all had central multitasking units. They were cumbersome, but they worked.”

Peckhum grinned, then frowned. “Well, I’m leaving tomorrow morning, and I’m not sure how I’d install one of those units myself, even if you did get it.”

Zekk waved his hand in dismissal. “Relax, Peckhum—I’ll get one for you by the time you return. I promise.”

Jaina piped up, seeing an opportunity. “And maybe next time you go up to the mirror station, we could go along and help install it.” Lowbacca bellowed his interest in the project as well.

Peckhum’s eyes widened with surprised delight. “Well, I suppose that might work after all. Let’s celebrate by eating lunch.”

The old man swept unsorted debris from a low table, clearing a spot for Zekk to set down the stacked cans of food. The dark-haired boy studied them and passed out rations to everyone. Warm steam curled up from open lids as thermal units heated the contents.

Jaina sniffed at hers suspiciously, and Jacen poked into the goo, while Tenel Ka studied the label seriously. Lowie gave a doubtful growl.

“You needn’t complain, Master Lowbacca,” Em Teedee said. “I’m certain it’s quite nutritious. See? The label bears the Imperial stamp of approval.”

Zekk held up one of the cans. “These are old stormtrooper rations. We found an entire cache in one of the lower buildings. They don’t taste like much, but they have all our nutritional requirements.”

Tenel Ka dug in, grunting with satisfaction. “Quite acceptable,” she said.

Jaina stirred the grayish puttylike substance, smiled as Zekk dug in, then took a small bite herself. It didn’t taste bad. In fact, it didn’t taste like anything, so she ate courteously. When they had finished, She stood up, meeting Zekk’s emerald-green gaze. “Want to join us for a meal next time?”

Zekk brightened. “Fine with me. When?”

“Well,” Jaina said, biting her lower lip and considering, “since Peckhum is leaving you all alone, why don’t you come to the Imperial Palace tomorrow night? We’re taking a holiday with my parents in the morning, but we’re having some sort of special banquet in the evening. Banquets are usually pretty boring, but I’m sure we could get you invited.”

“Really?” Zekk said.

“Sure,” Jaina answered.

“That’s right,” Jacen agreed. “We’ll probably give Threepio the time of his life tending to us.”