Jedi Bounty

6

As they approached the Twi’lek homeworld, Jaina maintained sufficient distance that the Rock Dragon would appear as an indistinguishable blip against the stellar background.

The fire and ice planet hung tantalizingly close, but Jaina did not dare move nearer. The Diversity Alliance was extremely watchful.

“Finding Ryloth’s the easy part,” she said, turning slightly in the pilot’s chair. “Getting into Nolaa Tarkona’s tunnels is going to be the real trick.”

The Twi’lek clans had built their homes by boring into cliffsides and creating enormous cities, complete with towering structures, in caverns and grottoes that were protected from the harsh environment of the planet’s surface. Nolaa Tarkona had taken over a prime section of tunnels not far from the ryll mining areas, and the Diversity Alliance now controlled Ryloth and held its population in an iron grip.

“We must be patient,” Tenel Ka said. “Lusa was certain that the correct opportunity would arise. The plan should work.”

“Excuse me, Mistress Jaina,” Em Teedee piped up from where he had been wired to the navigational console, “my initial scans indicate substantial traffic in the vicinity of Ryloth. The planet appears to have many orbiting vessels as well as frequent arrivals and departures of automated industrial ships in the inhabited sections of the mountains.”

“Industrial ships?” Jacen said. “What kind of industries do they have on Ryloth—other than mining, I mean?”

“Actually, mining ryll spice is Ryloth’s major industry now.” Raynar seemed glad to show off his knowledge of interstellar commerce. “Ryll is a rare mineral with medicinal uses. It’s fairly valuable, and it was used during the Krytos plague when the Rebels took Coruscant. Of course, before Nolaa Tarkona took over the government, a good part of Ryloth’s income came from a huge black-market slave trade in dancing girls, administrators, accountants, and so on. The trade still exists, but now it’s more secret than ever. Twi’leks are famous for doing business behind the scenes. They usually slink and hide and work in shadows to pull their strings. Nolaa Tarkona, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to keep a very low profile.”

“Ah. Aha,” Tenel Ka said. “Ryll is now Ryloth’s major export, and Nolaa Tarkona siphons away profits to fund the Diversity Alliance.”

“Probably practices a bit of piracy to build up her resources,” Jaina added. “Gets the rest in donations from her converts.”

“Converts like Lowie,” Jacen said, and a feeling of gloom passed over the young Jedi Knights. “We’ve got to find him and rescue him.”

The companions waited for hours, using Jedi relaxation techniques with varying degrees of success. Their ship hung motionless in space, a bit of insignificant galactic flotsam, unimportant, unnoticed.

Finally, a sensor blip caught Jaina’s attention, and she leaned forward.

“Large craft coming into the system, approaching on our vector.” She backtracked its path. “Looks like an empty drone of some sort.”

“It appears to be on autopilot, Mistress Jaina,” Em Teedee confirmed.

Raynar leaned closer to peer at the sensors. “Good. It’s one of those automated ore haulers Lusa told us about. You know—the ones that come to Ryloth, pick up raw ryll material, then take it off-planet for processing.”

“Then this is the one we’ll use for camouflage,” Jaina said, biting her lower lip. “It’s big enough. Shouldn’t be hard to hide in its shadow.”

“This is a fact,” Tenel Ka agreed, “but the Diversity Alliance will be vigilant.”

“Sure. Lusa warned us about that,” Jacen said, scratching his tousled brown hair. “We’ll just have to be extra careful.”

“A commendable philosophy, Master Jacen,” Em Teedee agreed.

As the lumbering ore hauler continued toward the planet, its uneven shape filled much of the starfield in the viewports. Jaina skillfully maneuvered the Rock Dragon behind the giant robotic craft where its bulk would eclipse their own ship.

“Now we’ll just slip in and no one will notice,” she said with a bit more confidence than she actually felt.

Jacen’s brandybrown eyes squinted as he studied the pitted surface and blocky configuration of the ship that would serve as their shield. “Looks like it’s seen better days.”

The ore hauler was a giant rust bucket that looked as if it had served as a freighter since the Clone Wars. Its outer plating was scored from cosmic radiation, solar flares, and a few potshots taken by space pirates. The bulk of its body consisted of tetrahedral storage bins linked together in a hodgepodge cluster. Some of the storage bins had broken latches; others looked as if they had been welded shut.

Raynar leaned forward and whistled. “In my parents’ fleet, we overhaul all the hull plating long before it can pick up that much ionization damage.”

Propulsion systems lined the rear of the hauler, glowing white. A computer-guided bridge console lay buried deep within the ship’s core like the rudimentary brain of a prehistoric creature. Jaina noted no weapon emplacements—no defensive systems whatsoever, in fact.

She nudged the Rock Dragon’s repulsorjets, tweaking them closer and adjusting her speed to match the hauler’s exactly. “We’re just going to hitch a ride here,” Jaina said. “Hang on while I get closer.”

“Dear me, this may require some rather difficult flying, Mistress Jaina,” Em Teedee said. “Please allow me to assist you with the coordinates.”

She looked over at the empty seat where Lowie usually sat. “All right. I could use a little help from a qualified copilot at the moment.”

The little droid’s sensors dimmed as he frantically ran calculations on the navigational computer.

Biting her lower lip, Jaina dusted her fingers across the guidance controls and eased the Rock Dragon closer and closer to the corroded hull.

She adjusted their speed minutely, moving to place the Hapan passenger cruiser exactly on top of one of the tetrahedral cargo containers.

With a thunk, the ships joined, and Jaina engaged a magnetic locking device that would fix the Rock Dragon in place. She let out a sigh of relief and sat back, crossing her arms in satisfaction.

“There! That ought to do it. Now we can ride the ore hauler right on down. They’ll take us along as part of the package … and we’ll slip into Nolaa Tarkona’s tunnels without any trouble at all.”

Heavy blast doors groaned open on the mountainside, exposing the starship grotto in the caves of the Diversity Alliance. On schedule, the ancient ore hauler followed the automated beam to its cleared landing area. With a burst of repulsorlifts and a backwash of dust and exhaust fumes, the clumsy freighter settled to the rock floor as workers scrambled to receive it. They prepared for another important shipment off-planet.

Computer engineers logged the hauler’s arrival and more loads of ryll ore were sent up from the deep underground mines. A hodgepodge group of Diversity Alliance recruits and re-commissioned droids waited for the safety lights to wink off on the hauler’s guidance console.

Gamorrean guards watched the activity, marching back and forth to look busy. The business of the Diversity Alliance had to proceed without delay—and Adjutant Advisor Hovrak made sure there were no complications.

The proud wolfman stood clad in his clean uniform, proudly watching the activity around him. The spray of medals and ribbons on his chest gleamed.

“Prepare for work,” Hovrak said with a growl. “We have to fill this ore shipment and send the transport away. The processing facility is not yet operating to its full capacity, and the next vessel is already approaching orbit. Now, move!”

“Yes, sir,” a Gand said, his voice puffing beneath his respirator mask.

He moved slowly, punching a request into an electronic pad at his side.

From other catacombs came heavy, metal-sided carts filled with ryll-rich rubble that had been mined by the slaves down in the deep tunnels. The Gand directed a work crew to attend to the arriving carts.

Hovrak gazed at the automated freighter, which reminded him of a bantha sleeping in the desert sun. Its sides creaked as it adjusted to the extreme temperature variations, freezing in space and burning through a steep descent in the atmosphere.

Everything checked out.

This old robotic craft had been donated to the Diversity Alliance by a Hig trader. Occasionally, the alien captain flew a run or two herself, but most of the time she let automated pilots take care of the drudgery while she remained on a backwater world enjoying herself at a cantina.

As other recruits rushed about to take care of exporting the next shipment, Hovrak clasped his clawed hands behind his back. Full of his responsibilities for Nolaa Tarkona, he maintained a rigidly upright posture and marched on an inspection tour around the ore hauler.

He scrutinized the front cargo pods, the large metal-walled bays, the rear propulsion systems.

The battered ship was much the worse for wear, but the Diversity Alliance couldn’t be choosy … and this ore hauler had served Nolaa Tarkona well.

Soon, when humans were gone from the galaxy, the other alien races would share in a great deal of wealth, Hovrak mused. For now, though, they would have to bide their time, waiting until Nolaa’s plans came to fruition.

As he rounded to the port side of the ancient hauler, though, Hovrak’s daydreams were interrupted.

He came to an abrupt halt as he saw a small craft attached to the side of one of the tetrahedral cargo bays. An intruder! Someone had slipped through the Diversity Alliance’s orbital defenses!

Hovrak shouted to sound the alarm. Docking-bay workers poked their heads out to see the cause of the commotion. The wolfman marched around the grotto, shouting for guards.

Corrsk, the Trandoshan killer, as well as four more Gamorrean guards charged into the starship grotto. The guards drew their weapons, in search of something to shoot. With a bulky scaled paw, Corrsk knocked them aside, wanting to score the kill himself.

Hovrak roared, and the security forces came around to the back of the automated ore hauler.

The wolfman stood tall to glower at the unexpected ship attached to the hull. “That’s a passenger cruiser,” he said, and sniffed the air.

“A Hapan design, I believe. I want to get to the bottom of this.”

Corrsk looked suspicious, narrowing his huge slitted eyes. “Prepare your weapons,” he growled at the guards.

Hovrak marched over to an access ladder and climbed up to where the strange craft clung to the ore hauler. It had been magnetically attached.

“Let’s get inside,” he said, then stood back, not wanting to get his uniform dirty.

The Trandoshan pushed his way forward and found the access hatch. He worked the priority override designed into the airlock, and the Hapan cruiser opened with a hiss as the pressures equalized. Cold, stale air rich with human scent filled Hovrak’s nostrils. Bristling with anger, he sniffed, and sniffed again as he crawled inside.

The other guards drew their blasters as they dropped down into the pilot compartment, then marched toward the back passenger seats.

But they found no one. The ship was empty.

Hovrak went to the cockpit console and called up the data he could find.

The rest was encrypted. “This ship is called Rock Dragon, a small passenger cruiser … abandoned, it seems. Sent to us for salvage.” He curled back his lips to bare his fangs.

The Trandoshan poked through the ship, his nostrils flaring. “I smell humans,” he said. “Kill humans.”

But though Hovrak and the Gamorreans and Corrsk scoured the small passenger cruiser, they found no secret compartments—and no sign of any human passengers.

“Very well,” Hovrak said, “we’ll consider it a gift. Arrange to have the ship removed to the smallcraft bay. We can put it to use.” He climbed out of the hatch, then bellowed down to the other workers. “Go get the ryll cargo containers! We need to bring the ore up and get this ship launched again.”

The Gamorreans and Corrsk stalked across the grotto toward the smallcraft bay, where they could fetch a mechanic to disconnect the Rock Dragon and pilot the cruiser to safe storage.

Hovrak leaped down and went to report. Nolaa Tarkona ought to know about this ship. Perhaps she’d have some suggestions on how best to use it.

As he left the starship grotto, Hovrak saw the Trandoshan standing at the edge of the grotto.

Corrsk sniffed the air again, looking around suspiciously. Then he departed, leaving the Rock Dragon unattended and alone.

The cargo hatch of one of the tetrahedral holding bays cracked open just enough for a silvery ovoid to lift up on its microrepulsorjets.

Em Teedee rose above the edge of the cargo hauler, then performed a pirouette. His optical sensors glowed as he scanned the grotto.

“I see no one, Mistress Jaina. It seems we’re in the clear.”

“If we are clear,” Tenel Ka said, unseen in the storage bin, “we must move quickly.”

The cargo hatch popped entirely open. Jacen and Jaina scrambled out to stand on the stained hull of the ore hauler. They shucked their flexible environment suits and stowed their helmets and suits back in a corner of the storage container.

“Good thing we hid in here,” Jacen said, noting the open hatch of the Hapan passenger cruiser.

“I’ll bet they gave the Rock Dragon a pretty thorough search.”

Raynar clambered out, flushed and panting.

He brushed wrinkles from his drab Jedi jumpsuit.

“I don’t think Nolaa Tarkona is gullible enough to believe that story about finding the ship in space,” he said. “We should get far away from here before they come back to make a more complete search.”

“Too late,” Jaina said. They heard the thunder of machinery and the sound of approaching feet marching from deep underground catacombs.

“They’re going to get the ore hauler prepped and ready to launch again.”

The young Jedi scampered across the stone floor of the starship grotto and ducked into a dimly lit side tunnel. Em Teedee bobbed along behind them on his repulsors.

“Well, we did it,” Jacen whispered, turning around to clap a congratulatory hand on Tenel Ka’s shoulder. “We’re here. Now all we have to do is find Lowie.”

“Yes,” she said. “And now our danger is greater than ever. We are in the lair of the Diversity Alliance, and if they capture us we may not escape with our lives.”