Shadow Academy

7

Tenel Ka slid a hand under the crash webbing of the copilot’s seat and scratched at the rough-woven, unfamiliar material of her disguise. She wished for the dozenth time that she could wear her comfortable reptilian armor, which was as supple as it was protective and never irritated her skin.

She had been silent, intimidated, through most of the journey to Borgo Prime, unable to bring herself to speak. Beside her sat Master Skywalker—the most famous and revered Jedi in the entire galaxy—calmly and competently piloting the Off Chance, an old blockade runner Lando had won in a sabacc game and claimed he no longer needed.

Tenel Ka’s grandmother had insisted that the girl’s royal training include diplomacy and correct methods of addressing individuals of any rank, species, age, or gender. Though not loquacious, Tenel Ka was also not shy; yet somehow, alone with the impressive Jedi Master in the confines of their tiny cockpit, she could find nothing to say. She tried to think, but her sluggish mind would not cooperate. Weariness clung to her like the sweat-damp clothing she wore. She squirmed in her seat and tried to suppress a nervous yawn.

Luke glanced over at her, a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Tired?”

“Not much sleep,” Tenel Ka answered, embarrassed that he had noticed her fatigue. “Bad dreams.”

Luke’s blue eyes narrowed for a moment, as if he was searching for a memory, but then he shook his head. “I haven’t been sleeping well either—but, tired or not, we can’t afford to make mistakes. Let’s go over our cover story again. Tell me who you are.”

“We are traders from Randon. We will avoid using names. But, if we must, you are Iltar and I am your ward-cousin Beknit. We trade in archaeological treasures. We are not above breaking the law to make a profit. We have come from a secret archaeological dig on …” She paused for a moment, searching her brain for the name of the planet.

“Ossus,” Luke supplied.

“Ah. Aha,” Tenel Ka said. “Ossus.” She took a deep breath while she etched the name into her mind, then she continued. “On Ossus, we discovered a treasured vault, secured with an Old Republic seal. The treasure chamber is set deep into rock and plated with armor so thick that no blaster or laser can pierce it.

“We dare not blast the surrounding rock for fear of destroying the treasure. We’ve come to Borgo Prime in search of industrial-grade Corusca gems to slice through the armor and open the treasure vault. We are ready to pay handsomely for the right type of gems.”

Tenel Ka watched with interest as the dull, lumpy asteroid of Borgo Prime loomed in their forward viewports. The rock had been hollowed out, honeycombed in ages past by generations of asteroid miners who sought one type of mineral, then another as market conditions changed. But more than a century ago, Borgo Prime had been stripped clean of even the least-desirable ore—leaving a spongelike network of interlocked caves, fully equipped with all the life-support systems and transportation airlocks the miners had needed. It had been a simple matter to convert the played-out mine into a bustling spaceport.

Luke transmitted the standard request for clearance to land and received it without difficulty.

“We’ve been cleared for docking bay ninety-four,” Luke said. “Are you ready, uh, Beknit?”

Tenel Ka nodded matter-of-factly. “Of course, Iltar.”

Luke studied her for a moment, earnest concern filling his face. “It could be rough down there, you know. You heard what Lando said: Borgo Prime is filled with people who have no conscience—thieves, murderers, creatures who would just as soon kill you as greet you.”

“Ah. Aha,” Tenel Ka said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like a visit to my grandmother’s court on Hapes.”

The two Randoni traders, “Iltar” and his ward-cousin “Beknit,” left their blockade runner in the dockyard cavern behind an immense hangar door and walked along the causeway that joined Borgo Primes largest space dock to its business district deep in the core of the asteroid.

In spite of her many rehearsals, Tenel Ka found it difficult to remember that she was supposed to be an experienced trader, used to frequenting such spaceports. She gawked openly at the tall rows of prefabricated dwellings welded up and down the inner walls and all the garish flashing lights of the alien businesses in separate atmosphere domes around them.

This place was so different from the primitive, untamed world of Dathomir. Even Hapes with its serene and stately cities—some of them larger than this entire asteroid—bore no resemblance to the spaceport’s seedy, gaudily lit establishments, that hummed with a life of their own. Overhead, through the clear arching plasteel that covered a rift in the ceiling, the stars and space were all but obscured by Borgo Primes glaring lights.

Luke paused beside Tenel Ka, letting her collect her thoughts. “You’ve never been anyplace like this, have you?” he asked.

She shook her head and started to walk again, searching for words to describe the unsettling emotions. “I feel … foolish. Out of place.” She scuffed her toes along a causeway surface that was paved with colorful, glowing advertisements. She paused to read an ad, then another. The first one announced in phosphorescent script that flared into light as she stepped near it,

The next one said simply

Tenel Ka shook her head. “I do not understand this place,” she said. “It both revolts and … entices me at the same time.”

“You don’t have to go through with this, you know,” Luke said. “I could handle it myself.”

It was completely true, Tenel Ka realized—an uncomfortable thought. She tossed her head and ran a nervous hand over her hair, which she wore loose, in Randoni style, so that it flowed down her back in a cascade of red-gold ripples like a sun-dappled stream. She tried to look confident, but icy fingers of doubt prodded her mind. “I will do what I must to rescue my friends,” she said, her voice as brisk and businesslike as she could make it. “Where is this nest or hive that Lando told us to find?”

Luke pointed to another lighted ad at their feet. “I think we just found it,” he said with a pleased expression.

The flat image showed an insectoid barkeeper proffering a dozen drinks with its multijointed, chitinous arms. A row of blinking beacon lights set into the walkway indicated the direction of the “hive.”

A sudden bout of stage fright assailed Tenel Ka, but she knew how important it was for them to stay in character. She straightened her clothing, cleared her throat, and looked at Luke. “You must be very thirsty after your long journey, Iltar,” she said.

“Yes. Thank you, Beknit,” he answered smoothly. “I could use a drink.” Then he leaned toward her and asked in a lower voice, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Tenel Ka nodded firmly. “I’m ready for anything.”

“I did not expect an establishment quite so large on an asteroid of this size,” Tenel Ka said, tilting back her head to look at the rounded ripples of Shanko’s cone-shaped Hive, a gray-green edifice sealed in its own atmosphere field. The edifice rose at least a quarter kilometer above the inner floor of Borgo Prime.

Feathery wings of fear and uncertainty fluttered in her stomach, and she paused to draw in a deep breath. To Tenel Ka’s great chagrin, a subtle spark of amusement danced in Master Skywalker’s eyes. “You know what waits for us in there, don’t you?” he asked.

“Thieves,” she answered.

“Murderers,” he added.

“Liars, scum, smugglers, traitors …” Her voice trailed off.

“Almost like family back on Hapes?” he asked with a gentle, teasing smile.

As heir to the Royal Throne of Hapes, Tenel Ka had faced trained assassins, as had her father, Prince Isolder, before her. If she could do that, surely she could handle a little spaceport cantina.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the arm he offered. “I am ready now.”

Luke slid a pass chit into a small slot in the door. “Let’s try to keep a low profile.” The door slid open.

The first thing that caught Tenel Ka’s eye when she stepped through the door was the insectoid bartender, Shanko, who stood over three meters high.

The room was filled with indescribable odors she could not begin to identify—not actually pleasant, but not quite offensive either. Particulates hung in the air from a multitude of burning objects: pipes, candles, incense, chunks of peat in blazing bog-pits, even clothing or fur from the occasional customer who got too close to one of the fires.

Without speaking, Luke gestured with his chin toward the bar. Even if he had spoken aloud, Tenel Ka could not have heard him above the noise of at least half a dozen different bands playing hit tunes from as many different systems.

Fortunately, they had decided before entering where they should start their inquiries. Knowing that on Randon the female ward-cousin was highly honored—mainly for her potential inheritance—and was always served first, Tenel Ka stepped up to the bar to place her order.

“Welcome travelersssss,” Shanko said, folding three pairs of multijointed arms and bowing until his antennaed head nearly touched the bar.

“Your hospitality is as welcome as the prospect of refreshment,” Tenel Ka replied.

“Sssso, you have been well ssschooled,” Shanko said. “Are you perhapsss a sssscholar? A diplomat?”

“She is my ward-cousin,” Luke put in smoothly.

“Then it iss indeed an honor to ssserve you,” Shanko said, raising himself to his full three-meter height.

“I would like a Random Yellow Plague,” Tenel Ka said without hesitation. “Chilled. Make it a double.”

“And I would like a Remote Terminator,” Luke said.

The covering membranes of the bartenders multifaceted eyes nictated twice in surprise. “Not often requesssted. A ssstrong drink, iss it not?” He seemed flustered for a moment, then made a gurgling buzz deep in his thorax that Tenel Ka could only interpret as a laugh. “Will that be preprogrammed or randomizzzed?”

“Randomized, of course,” Luke replied.

“Ah, a rissssk taker,” Shanko said, tapping two forelegs on the bartop in approval.

Then his arms became a blur of motion as he pulled levers and pushed buttons, filling cups and vials, mixing their drinks in less time than it had taken to order them.

“There is no profit without risk,” Luke said, accepting his drink from one of Shanko’s many hands.

Tenel Ka leaned forward and lowered her voice. “We seek information,” she said, drawing out a small string of Corusca gems that she had kept hidden under the rough material of her robe until then.

Shanko nodded in understanding. “We have the finessst information brokerss in the Sssector. There iss even a Hutt.” He gestured toward an area to the right of the bar. “If you do not find what you ssseek here,” he said with obvious pride, “it isss not to be found on Borgo Prime.”

They thanked Shanko and headed in the direction he had indicated. The music of the bands faded slightly as they pushed into the milling throng of patrons, each imbibing its favorite form of refreshment. The crowd was so thick, Tenel Ka could not see where they were going.

Beside her, Luke paused and closed his eyes. “A Hutt information broker, huh?” he mused aloud. “They’re the best you can get.”

Tenel Ka felt a slight tingle as she watched him reach out with the Force to touch the minds around him, searching. She searched, too, but with her gray eyes open. A quick glance revealed nothing of interest. She looked up the open center of the hive’s cone and at the curving stairways that climbed its ridged sides, which—judging from the signs on the walls—led to gambling rooms and lodgings.

Luke opened his eyes. “Okay, I have him.” He took Tenel Ka’s arm and pushed his way through the crowd. They passed a bank of stim lights, where a cluster of photosensitive customers wriggled and bounded to silent strobing “music.”

They found the Huttese information broker ensconced behind a low table near the wall of the hive. A small Ranat with gray-brown fur stood at the Hutt’s elbow, whiskers twitching. The Hutt was thin by Huttese standards and could not have had much status on his homeworld. Perhaps that was why he did business on Borgo Prime, Tenel Ka thought.

“We have come for information, and we are prepared to pay for it,” Luke said without preamble.

The Hutt picked up a small datapad that lay on the table in front of him and punched a few buttons.

“What are your names?” he asked.

“What is your name?” Tenel Ka asked, raising her chin slightly.

The Hutt’s eyes narrowed to slits, and Tenel Ka had the impression that the broker was revising his opinion of them. “Of course,” he said. “Such things are unimportant.”

Luke shrugged. “And all information has its price.”

“Of course,” the Hutt repeated. “Please sit down and tell me what you need.”

Luke sat on a repulsorbench, adjusted the height, and motioned for Tenel Ka to sit beside him, next to a planter holding a tall, leafy shrub. Luke took a long gulp from the drink in his hand, but when Tenel Ka raised her cup to her lips, he sent her a warning look. When the Hutt bent to confer with his Ranat assistant for a moment, Luke took the opportunity to whisper, “That drink could knock you from here to the Outer Rim.”

“Ah,” Tenel Ka said. “Aha.” She set the drink down with a small thunk.

When the Ranat scurried off on whatever business the Hutt had assigned it, Luke and Tenel Ka began telling their fictional tale, carefully offering only as much information as they thought was needed.

As they rambled on, taking turns embellishing the details, the other patrons in the hive supplied the usual chaos of a busy, seedy bar. Several different blaster battles rang out from dim areas, while huge armored bouncer droids trundled in to bash heads together and eject any customers who did not pay for the messes they made.

A group of smugglers played a reckless game of rocket darts, missing the prominent target on the wall and launching one of the small flaming missiles into the side of a fluffy, white-furred Talz. The creature roared in pain and surprise as his fur ignited, then took out his misery on the drunken Ithorian sitting next to him.

Large customers tried to eat smaller customers, and the bands kept playing, and Shanko kept mixing drinks. The Hutt information broker was distracted by none of it.

As they spoke, Luke continued to sip his drink and Tenel Ka cast about for a way to dispose of hers. When the Ranat returned and conferred again with the Hutt, Tenel Ka reached over to the planter beside her chair and dumped half of her drink into it.

It was only after the stalk began to shudder violently and the leaves curled up that Tenel Ka realized that the shrub was not a decoration but a plant-alien customer! She whispered an apology and turned back just as the Ranat hurried off with the Hutt’s datapad and a new assignment.

The Ranat came back in a moment, followed by a heavily bearded man who walked with a limp.

“This Ranat here said ‘no names’ and that’s fine with me,” the bearded man said, sitting down at the table. “Ranat tells me yer in the market for an industrial-grade Corusca gem? Ain’t no one else can arrange that fer ya. Industrial-grade gems … sooner er later they hafta come through me.”

“Are you the purchasing agent, then?” Tenel Ka said without thinking.

The bearded man snorted. “How ’bout we jes say I’m a middleman.”

Again, Luke explained as briefly as possible about the treasure vault on Ossus, and before long they had struck a deal to purchase one industrial-grade Corusca gem.

That done, Luke probed the middleman for information about who else might have bought industrial-grade gems. The man’s eyes grew wary and distrustful. “No names—that’s the bargain,” he said stoutly.

Tenel Ka pulled off another string of the fine Corusca gems that hung around her neck and placed them on the table beside the payment she and Luke had already made for the large gem.

“Surely you understand our caution,” Luke said. “We must know if there is anyone capable of stealing our treasure from us.”

The middleman picked up the string of gems and looked them over carefully. “Can’t tell ya much,” he said in a low voice. “Last shipment o’ big industrial gems, one person bought ’em all. Big order.”

“Can you describe their ships, tell us what planet they came from?” Luke pressed.

The bearded middleman still did not look up. “Not much, actually. Never saw the ship she came on. All I knows she called herself a … a lady of the evenin’ … er a daughter of darkness, er somethin’ like that.”

Tenel Ka caught her breath, and she felt Luke stiffen beside her. “You mean a—a Nightsister?” Tenel Ka asked with a quaver in her voice.

“Yeah, that was it! A Nightsister,” the middleman said. “Goofy name.”

Luke’s eyes met Tenel Ka’s and held.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Luke said slowly. “If you’re right, I’m afraid this ‘Nightsister’ may have taken some of our valuables already.”