Trouble on Cloud City

9

Lando, Jaina, and Zekk worked on the Lady Luck, preparing it for a quick journey to the Bith homeworld of Clak’dor VII. Though Jacen, Lowie, and Tenel Ka would remain on Cloud City to continue the local investigation, they helped with the flight preparations. Anja, however, kept to herself and was nowhere to be found.

“Sorry I can’t take you all with me,” Lando said, wiping a smudge of lubricant off his burgundy cape. “But it’s a long shot tracking down that band. They definitely went to Clak’dor VII, but they’re on the run, and I don’t want to waste precious time in case—”

Jacen said, “Don’t worry about us here, Lando. We’ve got plenty of investigating to do on Cloud City.”

“Can’t wait to compare notes when we get back,” Jaina said.

“Hey, Em Teedee,” Zekk called, tying back his long, dark hair, “did you go over our route to the Bith homeworld? We don’t want to get lost on our way there.”

“Why certainly, Master Zekk,” the little droid said. “I checked and double-checked all of the coordinates and ran an algorithm to ensure that the navicomputer had chosen the proper course, free of any serious natural hazards. The Lady Luck and I are on very cordial terms.”

“Clak’dor VII isn’t a place many people go by choice,” Lando said. “I’ve been to more planets in this galaxy than I can name, but I don’t ever remember setting foot on that world.”

“The musical prowess of Bith band members is renowned throughout the New Republic,” Tenel Ka said. “They travel widely, taking their entertainment talents to numerous venues. There is little reason to travel to Clak’dor VII to hear Bith music, since their bands are easily found in many fine establishments.”

“Not to mention some pretty seedy ones,” Zekk pointed out, remembering the Mos Eisley cantina.

“Well, I think it’s mighty suspicious that they packed up in such a hurry and left Cloud City right after Cojahn vanished. We need to track down Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes and see what they can tell us.”

Wisps of high-flying clouds mixed with pink and tan vapors swirled around the open dock. Holding on to an ornate side strut on the Lady Luck, Jaina gazed out at the broad empty landscape of clouds and sunlight and sky.

Hearing someone approach, she turned around with surprise when her brother said, “Hey, it’s Anja!”

They all glanced up to see the tall, muscular girl lounging against the docking bay door. “Yeah, I wanted to see you before you guys left.” She shrugged her tattooed shoulder. “I didn’t want you all to think I was hot-tempered or anything.”

Recalling the girl’s outburst, Jaina raised her eyebrows. To Jaina’s now-alert eye, the young woman seemed cheerful and energized, her enormous eyes bright, the pupils wide. Lando absorbed all these details with a slight nod, as if it confirmed his suspicions about Anja’s use of andris spice. But he made no comment.

Lowie growled something and Em Teedee translated, completely missing the Wookiee’s sarcasm. “Master Lowbacca wonders whatever could have given us that idea, Mistress Anja.”

“Sometimes my … enthusiasm gets the best of me,” Anja said.

“I think she’s apologizing,” Zekk said in a stage whisper.

Jaina shot a teasing glance at her dark-haired friend. “Let’s not get carried away, now.”

“Don’t push it, kids,” Lando warned. “She’s apologized … in her own way.”

Anja narrowed her huge eyes. “All right. I’m sorry. Is that clear enough?” She crossed her arms over her chest and stood with forced relaxation, though Jaina could see her tensed muscles. A sheen of sweat sparkled on her forehead, darkening the leather headband. Her skin was flushed as if she were overheating, bursting with energy, but Anja kept herself under tight control.

Lando banged on the outer hull of his space yacht. “Ready to head out. Let’s see what we can learn from that Bith band.” He bowed low and gestured up the boarding ramp for Jaina. “My lady Jaina, Master Zekk, if you’d be so kind as to board our conveyance?” He flashed a bright grin at the companions remaining behind. “Next stop, Clak’dor VII.”

As Jaina climbed the steep ramp she turned to Zekk. “Hope you brought your swamp boots along.”

Zekk grinned back at her. “And my bug repellent.”

Lando followed them up and cast a glance over his shoulder to Jacen, Tenel Ka, Lowie, and Anja. “See? The Bith live in a marvelous place. Don’t you guys wish you were coming along?”

“Gracious no! I can assure you that we will do our utmost to put our time here to valuable use,” Em Teedee answered quickly.

“Sure, but I do kind of like Bith music,” Jacen said.

Anja waved a dismissive hand and looked bored. “I prefer Ishi Tib. Besides, you’ve heard one swamp band you’ve heard ’em all.”

Jacen looked up at the clean white trappings of Cloud City, the ornate embellishments even on the docking bay balcony; he thought of the fine towers, the culture, and the beautiful sky rodeo rehearsal they had seen the night before.

“I guess we’ll just have to rough it here,” he said with a feigned sigh.

Clak’dor VII had once been a paradise, perfectly suited for organic carbon-based life and thriving with countless species. But centuries of ecological damage and intercultural warfare among factions of the Bith race had ruined the world.

“Looks like a muddled mess,” Zekk said, looking out the Lady Luck’s front windowport as they approached.

“A long time ago there was a pretty nasty conflict here,” Lando said. “Two rival groups disagreed on the decision of a private arbitrator—that’s the way the Bith solve problems—and both factions unleashed biochemical weapons, strange viruses, and mutation gases that all but ruined this world’s ecosystem. The planet has settled down some, but it’ll be thousands of years more before it completely recovers.”

“I read in the database that most Bith cities are enclosed in sealed domes and the people stay inside,” Jaina said.

“Is that where you think we’ll find Figrin D’an and the band?” Zekk asked. “Inside a dome?”

“Not a chance,” Lando answered. “It wouldn’t be that easy. My sources tell me they’re in complete isolation, outside the protective domes. I’ve already sent tracers out. Remember, the Modal Nodes are scared and on the run. Fortunately for us, they’re not overly bright about hiding their tracks.”

“Huh. I thought Biths were intelligent,” Jaina said, thinking of their enlarged pink heads and their highly developed craniums.

“It varies,” Lando said. “That Figrin D’an is a diehard sabacc player. I should know, since I’ve played against him quite a few times—and so has your father, Han. Figrin recently spent a bunch of hot credits, registered some property, and bought wilderness supplies. It seems he and the rest of the band have gone into hiding on one of the dense bayous.”

“Good thing we brought our swamp boots, huh?” Jaina said with a sidelong glance at Zekk.

“I’ve got the coordinates of where they’ve gone,” Lando said as he arrowed toward the swirling mud-green landmass to the south.

“If they’re so scared and so anxious to hide,” Zekk asked, “how’d you track them down so easily?”

Sitting in the Lady Luck’s padded and ornately carved captain’s chair, Lando smiled. “I happen to know a lot of Figrin’s gambling buddies … and they know me. I called in a few favors.”

“Then it shouldn’t be too hard for someone else to find him and the band, either,” Jaina said with alarm.

“We’d better hurry,” Lando agreed. He brought the ship down low, cruising over a cluster of transparisteel domes protruding like giant bubbles from the middle of a steaming swamp. The domed city was surrounded by covered watercourses and an open-air spaceport. Vines and moss had grown over the bases of some of the hemispheres, and Jaina could see tiny figures and small dwellings stacked in hivelike structures under the protective glass.

“We’re not going there,” Lando said. “I just needed a starting point, to orient my land coordinate system.”

The Lady Luck cruised over the encased Bith city without stopping and then headed southward, deeper into the mangled wilderness areas that had long ago been devastated.

On a screen in front of him, Lando called up a detailed topographical map of the swamps and waterways. Jaina, as copilot, watched the progress of their flight, comparing the diagram with the sinuous creeks and rivers that sliced through the overgrown wasteland.

Warm brownish water moved sluggishly around knobby tree roots and vine-draped spreading trees. Clumps of phosphorescent plankton drifted about on the broad open watery areas, their light flickering like a floating thunderstorm.

“Welcome to the garden spot of Clak’dor VII,” Zekk said.

“We’re close,” Lando stated, scrutinizing the diagram and the numerical coordinates on his controls. He scowled at the unwelcoming vista of steamy marshes. “Now to find a place to land.”

Jaina and Zekk also scanned the area in search of a dry patch or a clearing. “Not quite enough docking bays on this planet,” Zekk grumbled.

In the middle of one broad pond, a wide area of sand rose up like a beached sea beast. The place looked damp, but solid enough to support the weight of the small space yacht. “There. Try that sandbar,” Jaina said.

Lando studied the clear area skeptically, using his own scanners. “I might get the sidewalls dirty … but you’re right. I don’t see a better place.”

With a burst of repulsorjets the Lady Luck settled down onto the wet sand, showering clumps of mucky debris into the air and out over the placid surface of the pond.

Lured by the tiny splashes, sinuous eel-like creatures swarmed up, snatched the tasteless morsels, and spat them back out. The eel creatures raised their heads up out of the murky water—though the “heads” were little more than jagged sucking mouths surrounded by circular rings of black eyes—and stared at the space yacht as it settled hard on the sandbar and then sat silent.

“Looks like we’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” Lando said as he extended the boarding ramp. “Are you both wearing those transparalon suits I gave you?”

Jaina looked in dismay out at the dripping, humid marshland. “Sure,” she said. “But I doubt it’ll handle all this.”

“Sometimes you’ve got to get a little dirty to be a real Jedi Knight.” Zekk tromped down the ramp and stepped onto the sandbar, looking for the shallowest way to solid ground in this swamp—but none of the ground looked particularly solid.

“I hope they didn’t see us fly in,” Jaina said, following him. “What if they decide to disappear even from their little shacks?”

“We came in low and quiet,” Lando said. “I doubt they saw anything. It’s hard to see very far if you’re at the water level.”

Together they splashed across the knee-deep water as glowing plankton clumps swirled around their boot-tops. The air smelled like garbage and overripe fruit. Unlike the air in the sanitized Climateria swamp at SkyCenter Galleria, the odors here were not at all pleasant.

Jaina stepped on some round-shelled creatures that tried to scuttle out of the way under the mud. She grabbed on to Zekk to keep her balance, and he held her shoulder. The two of them sloshed along together until they reached a bank covered with tufted blue and yellow grasses.

Three colorful insects the size of small birds flapped around, hissing and spitting tiny globs of a sticky fluid at them, which Jaina brushed aside. Between her fingers the fluid felt like molten spiderwebs. The butterfly-like things swirled in the air and flew off into the treetops; a large creature with a reptilian head and brightly feathered wings swooped down and gobbled two of the insects in a single dive.

“Jacen would really like it here,” Jaina said. “He’d have fun watching all this bayou life.”

“Your brother’s welcome to all of it he can handle,” Zekk said. “For me it’s just noisy and distracting.”

They trudged onward as Lando consulted his electronic map. Off to their left they saw several haystack-sized mounds of mud and straw and branches. Small mammals with broad, rounded ears poked their heads out of the mounds, blinking their large glistening eyes at the intruders. Lando paid no attention, but kept walking, shoving dangling wet moss out of his face and ducking under spine-covered branches.

“I’ve heard of popular musicians needing to hide from their fans,” Zekk said, “but this is ridiculous.”

“Obviously there’s more to it than that,” Lando agreed. “It’s a good sign.”

Dripping green and slimy swamp residue, their faces scratched by branches and stung by insects, the three sloshed deeper into the bayou, trusting Lando’s sense of direction and his presumably reliable information on the location of Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes.

At last, parting head-high tufts of bluish marsh grass and pushing the blades aside, Jaina looked into a clearing surrounded by knotted low-hanging water trees. Lando and Zekk crept closer on either side of her.

In the middle of the wet, flat area stood three ramshackle houses on stilts, teetering like weary swamp birds on unsteady legs. Their windows were small, the walls made of woven marsh grass and patched with thick wads of the resinous moss that hung from every tree. Buzzing firegnats, butterfly creatures, and fist-sized beetles flew all around, droning into the hot, humid air.

Jaina heard quiet mournful notes of music drifting up from the shacks, as if morose band members were passing the time by rehearsing a few old favorite tunes.

“Sounds like the Biths we’re looking for,” Zekk said.

Lando nodded. He pushed forward into the clearing, with the two young Jedi beside him. “Hello! Is anybody inside there? I’m looking for Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes.”

The music suddenly stopped with a loud squawk. They heard clatters, thuds, and bumping noises, as if people were scurrying about in a panic inside the tiny huts. One polished pink head popped up, just barely visible through a tiny window opening, and Jaina recognized the familiar alien form of a Bith musician.

Then the creature ducked down. Clanking and dissonant notes rang out from musical instruments as they were tossed aside.

“Go away! Leave us alone!” shouted one saucy-voiced Bith inside the huts. His Basic was heavily accented, high-pitched with alarm.

“Sounds like Figrin himself,” Lando said. “Figrin! Wait, it’s me!”

Jaina’s eyes went wide when she saw an ominous-looking tube appear through the window opening, a thick-walled cylinder sawed from an iron-cane stalk. The black hole in the tube looked very much like the mouth of a weapon.

“Look out!” she cried, just as a rumbling blast erupted from the tube with a puff of smoke. Zekk and Jaina both dove to one side, tumbling face-first into the marsh. Lando staggered backward to get out of the way. A hurtling mass of brown crashed into the trees behind them.

“Hey!” Lando shouted. “There’s no cause for—”

A second tube emerged from another window. This time the blast caught Lando squarely in the center of his chest.

“No!” Jaina shouted.

Lando staggered as the amorphous brown shape slammed into him, splattering in all directions, hurling him into a tree trunk. He looked down in horror at his chest, as if expecting to see blood and bones. Instead, he encountered only torn transparalon and sticky, dripping muck—the same muck they’d been slogging through for hours, dredged up from the bottom of the swamp.

“It’s just mud!” he said, aghast. “They’re shooting mud bombs at us.” Then he stormed forward, sloshing toward the houses on stilts. “That does it. You’ve gone too far this time, Figrin! You’ve ruined my shirt! You’ll pay for this out of your sabacc winnings!”

Jaina and Zekk hurried up behind him. Jaina wondered if she should draw her lightsaber. A single swipe at the stilts would topple any one of those houses into the marshy pond.

“Hey, man. Who’s out there?” said the original Bith voice.

“It’s Lando Calrissian,” Lando said. “And if you don’t stop firing mud at me, I’ve got two Jedi Knights here who’ll do more than get your shirts dirty.”

“Lando, my man!” A Bith raised up his pink cranium and poked his smooth head out the window. Jaina couldn’t tell if the alien was smiling or not. His huge black eyes glittered in the hazy bayou light.

He raised a nimble hand whose fingers had the dexterity to play just about any musical instrument in the universe. “Why didn’t you say so? We thought you were some of those Black Sun people trying to rub us out.”

“Black Sun?” Jaina said in alarm.

Lando sloshed closer to the huts and Figrin D’an lowered a rickety wooden ladder. “Come on up! We’d love to jam!” the bandleader said. “Maybe even play a little round of sabacc or two.”

Other Bith band members stood up in the adjoining shacks to look with huge black eyes at the new arrivals. A few dissonant musical notes rang out as they gathered up their jumbled instruments.

“Next time you should check out who’s at your door before you open fire,” Lando said, wiping another smear of mud off the chest of his filthy shirt.

“Hey, couldn’t take the chance,” Figrin said. “You know how it is, man. We got a price on our heads.”

Lando hauled himself up the ladder, then reached down with his muck-encrusted grip to help Jaina climb off the ladder and into the hut.

“Well, if we really were thugs out to kill you,” Lando said, “that little mud-cannon of yours wouldn’t have done much other than annoy us. Then you’d have been facing a really unpleasant interrogation session.”

Two of the Bith band members groaned. One picked up his jizz stick and blew a wailing strident note.

Zekk climbed up to join Jaina and Lando in the central one-roomed hut. The place smelled of mildew and damp wood as well as strange spicy stew that had obviously been bubbling for a long time on a thermal stove set on a stone plate in the center of the room.

A pair of the band members retrieved their instruments and set about plugging in powerpacks and tuning up. Disconnected musical notes wafted through the air like clouds of ortellian whisper bats.

Lando made the introductions. “These two are my associates, Zekk”—the dark-haired young man nodded—“and Jaina Solo. You remember her father.”

Figrin sat back and twiddled his big-knuckled fingers. “Solo? As in Han Solo’s daughter? Yeah, Han and I spent many an hour at the sabacc table.” With all of the fleshy folds around the Bith’s mouth, Jaina still couldn’t tell whether he was smiling. “How ’bout a game this afternoon, Lando? Just like old times.”

“Not yet. We need some information,” Lando said. “There’s been some trouble on Cloud City and I’m pretty sure you know something about it. You’ve got to tell us whatever you can. What happened to my friend Cojahn?”

Figrin sighed and a few of his band members struck up a low, mournful tune. “Man, that’s a sad song,” he replied. “A real tearjerker. We don’t usually have stuff like that in our repertoire. Cojahn … that story has good guys, bad guys, treachery and tragedy. You know, all the stuff that makes for a surefire hit.”

“So you’ll tell us everything?” Jaina said. “All the details?”

Figrin sat back against the rickety wall of the hut. The other band members adjusted their instruments, ready to play.

“Why not?” the Bith bandleader said. “We got plenty of time … and it’s been too long since we had a really attentive audience.”