them asleep, heads pillowed on folded arms or hung backwards with mouths ajar.
Lighting was faint, the air was frigid, and the scrubbed and rescrubbed oxygen
had a distinctly metallic taste.
The much-abused refresher was rank.
They had been inside the arm for almost four standard days, subsisting on
food pellets and relieving the boredom by putting on EVA suits and venturing
out into the hangar. Where the shuttle had artificial gravity, moving about in
the arm was like exploring a deep - sea wreck. Many of the cargo pods had
massed along the outer wall of the arm, but clouds of lommite and tangles of
droids drifted about like flotsam and jetsam. Boiny had even discovered the
body of one of the Twi'leks who hadn't made it back to the rendezvous point,
burned almost beyond recognition by blaster fire.
They hadn't planned on remaining in the hangar arm after the explosion.
But once it had been determined that the arm was just outside the tug of
Dorvalla's gravity, Cohl had decided that the hangar would be the best place
to bide their time. The Hawk - Bat and the Nebula Front support ships had
fled, and even the Acquisitor had disappeared--a fact that Cohl found curious,
since it was unlike the Neimoidians to leave cargo behind, jettisoned or
otherwise.
Another option would have been to race for Dorvalla's surface, to what
had been their base before the boarding operation. But Cohl suspected that the
base had been discovered and would probably be under surveillance.
When Rella and some of the others had suggested striking out instead for
nearby Dorvalla IV, it was Cohl who reminded them that salvage and relief
ships would be on their way to Dorvalla, and a lone shuttle, crawling through
space, would certainly attract unwanted attention.
In fact, salvage crews had arrived within local hours of the explosion.
Since then, Dorvalla Mining had been employing their ferries to gather up what
cargo pods they could, though much of the lommite had plunged into the
atmosphere, as if bent on returning home. The detached centersphere and the
other hangar arm had been hauled off, in advance of Dorvalla's bringing them
down. Soon the salvagers would turn their efforts to the starboard arm.
For Cohl, the long days were no more than tedious; nothing like the years
of confinement he had endured after being imprisoned on false conspiracy
charges by people he had fought beside and had counted as friends. Because the
rest of the shuttle's crew trusted him implicitly, they, too, suffered the
monotony without complaint. Most of them were stoic by nature and no strangers
to privation, in any case. Anyone who wasn't wouldn't have been selected for
the operation.
Only Rella was inclined to speak her mind. But she and Cohl had an
understanding.
"Anything on the comm?" Cohl asked Boiny.
"Not a peep, Captain." Rella snorted. "Who are you expecting to hear
from, Cohl? The Hawk-Batis long gone." Cohl looked past her to the Rodian.
"What's the status of the systems?" "Nominal." Rella growled impatiently. "You
know, I can last in here as long as any of you, but this litany is driving me
space happy." She mimicked Cohl's voice, "Systems status," then Boiny's,
"Nominal." She gave her head a shake. "Can't you at least come up with other
ways of saying it?" "Here's something that will cheer you up, Rella," Jalan
said irritably. "The arm's orbit is deteriorating." She forced her eyes wide
open. "If you mean we're actually in danger of falling from the sky, you're
right I'm thrilled!" Jalan looked at Cohl. "No imminent danger, Captain. But
we should probably begin to think about leaving." Cohl nodded. "You're right.
It's time we bid good-bye to this place. Served us well, though." Rella raised
her eyes to the low ceiling. "Thank the stars." "Where are we off to, Captain?
" Boiny asked.
"Downside." "Captain, I hope you're not thinking of riding this thing
down to Dorvalla," Jalan said. "The salvage crews will--was Cohl shook his
head negatively. "We're returning to base under our own power." The crew
members traded uneasy looks.
"Begging your pardon, Captain," Jalan said, "but didn't you say the base
was probably being watched?" "I'm sure it is being watched." Rella stared at
him for a moment. "Are you scrambled, Cohl? We've been monitoring Judicial
Department ships for the past four days, not to mention Dorvalla Space Corps
corvettes.
If you wanted to be caught, why did you make us sit through--was She
gestured broadly. his-comth?" The others muttered in agreement.
"Even if we make it to the base in one piece," Rella went on, "what
happens then?
Without a spaceworthy ship, we'll be stranded." "Maybe Dorvalla IV'S
worth a shot, after all, Captain," Jalan interjected. "If we manage to make
it... I mean, with the Nebula Front likely thinking that we're dead, and all
that au - rodium right here with us..." Rella cast Cohl a sly glance. "Are you
listening?" Cohl firmed his lips. "And when the Nebula Front learns that we
survived? You don't think they'll move planets to hunt us down?" "Might not
matter, Captain," Boiny said guardedly. "That much aurodium could buy all of
us new lives in the Corporate Sector or somewhere." Cohl's gaze darkened.
"That's not going to happen.
We took this job on, and we'll see it through. Then we collect our pay."
He swung angrily to Rella. "Begin your preflight. The rest of you, prepare for
launch." The small ship burned its way through sunlit Dorvalla's nebulous
envelope, red nose aglow and losing pieces of itself to the thin air. The crew
cinched their harnesses tighter and focused silently on their separate tasks,
even as items broke loose from the consoles and began to carom around the
cramped cabin-space like deadly missiles.
Rella aimed the trembling shuttle for a broad valley in the equatorial
region, defined by two steep escarpments. There, where ancient seas had once
ruled and plate tectonics had wreaked havoc with the terrain, the land was
blanketed by thick forest, with trees and ferns primeval in scale.
Massive, sheer-faced tors, crowned with rampant vegetation, rose like
islands from the forest floor.
Blinding white in the sunlight, the tors were the birthplace of
waterfalls that plunged thousands of meters to turbulent turquoise pools.
But for all the wildness, it wasn't a wilderness.
Dorvalla Mining had carved wide roads to the bases of most of the larger
cliffs, and two circular landing fields, expansive enough to accommodate
ferries, had been hollowed out of the forest. The tors were gouged and
honeycombed with mines, and a thick layer of lom - mite dust blanketed much of
the vegetation.
Likewise the product of outsize machines, deep craters filled with
polluted runoff water reflected the sun and sky like fogged mirrors.
It was from here, with an assist from several disenfranchised employees
of Dorvalla Mining, that Cohl had finalized his plans for boarding the
Revenue.
But not all of Dorvalla expressed a loathing for the Trade Federation,
much less a to
lerance for mercenaries; certainly not those who saw the Trade
Federation as Dorvalla's salvation, as the planet's only link to the Core
Worlds.
The shuttle was leveling out of its bone-rattling ride down the well when
a blunt-nosed ship tore past to port, intent on making its presence known.
"Who was that?" Rella asked, reflexively ducking as the sonic boom of the
ship's passing overtook the shuttle.
"Dorvalla Space Corps," Boiny reported, his black orbs fixed on the
authenticators. "Coming about for another pass." Cohl swiveled his chair to
the viewport to watch the ship's lightning-fast approach. It was a fixed-wing
picket ship, single - piloted but packing dual laser cannons.
"Incoming transmission, Captain," Boiny said.
"They're ordering us to set down." "Did they ask us to identify
ourselves?" "Negative. They just want us on the ground." Cohl frowned. "Then
they already know who we are." "That Judicial Department Lancet," Rella said,
turning to Cohl. "Whoever was piloting it probably registered our drive
signature." The picket ship screamed overhead, closer this time.
"Another pass like that and they're going to knock us to the ground,
Captain," Jalan warned.
"Stay on course for the base," Cohl ordered.
The picket barrel-rolled through a tight loop and came back at them once
more, this time firing a burst from its forward laser cannons. Red hyphens
streaked across the shuttle's rounded nose.
"They mean business, Captain!" Boiny said.
Cohl swung to Rella. "Keep an eye out for a place to crash." She gaped at
him. "You mean land, don't you?" "As I said," Cohl emphasized. "Until then,
all speed. Get us as close to the base as you can." She gritted her teeth.
"There had better be an aurodium ring at the end of this thrill ride, Cohl."
"The picket's firing." "Evasive," Cohl said.
"No good, Captain. We can't outmaneuver it!" The picket's lasers stitched
a ragged line across the shuttle's tail, flipping it through a complete
rotation. What had been a steady roar from the engines became a distressed
whine. Flames licked their way through the aft bulkhead, and the cabin began
to fill with thick, coiling smoke.
"We're dirtbound!" Rella shouted.
Cohl clamped his right hand on her shoulder. "Hold her steady! Fire
repulsors and brace for impact." Trailing black smoke as it swept past one of
the tors, the shuttle clipped the top of the forest canopy, pruning huge
branches from the tallest trees. Rella managed to keep them horizontal for a
moment more, then they began to nosedive. The ship slammed into a massive tree
and slued to starboard, spinning like a disk as it buzz-sawed through the
upper reaches of the canopy.
Birds flew screeching from the crowns, as wood splintered to all sides.
Seat restraints snapped, and two of the crew were flung like dolls into the
starboard bulkhead. Rolled over on its back, the shuttle rocketed toward the
forest floor.
The viewports cracked, spiderwebbed, then blew into the cabin.
Contact with the ground was even harsher than any of them had
anticipated. The starboard stabilizer plowed into the leaf - littered soil at
an acute angle, causing the ship to flip like a tossed coin. Seats tore loose
from the deck, and instrumentation ripped away from the bulkheads. The roll
seemed to go on forever, punctuated by the deafening clamor of collisions. The
hull caved in, and conduits burst, loosing noxious fluids and gases.
All at once it was over.
New sounds rilled the air the pinging of cooling metal, the hiss of
punctured pipes, the boisterous calls of frightened birds, the tattoo of
falling limbs, fruits, and whatever else, striking the hull. Coughs, whimpers,
moans...
Gravity told Cohl that they were still upside down.
He unclipped his harness and allowed himself to drop to the ceiling of
the shuttle. Rella and Boiny were already there, bruised and bleeding, but
regaining consciousness even as Cohl went to them. He put an arm under Rella's
shoulders and took a quick look around.
The rest of the crew were surely dead, or dying.
Satisfied that Rella would be all right, Cohl sprang the portside hatch.
Moisture-saturated heat rushed in on everyone, but blessed oxygen, as
well. Cohl bellied outside and immediately consulted his comlink's compass
display.
Unaccustomed to standard gravity, he felt twice his weight. Every motion
was laborious.
"Did Jalan make it?" Rella asked weakly.
The human answered for himself. "Barely." Cohl squirmed back inside.
Jalan was hopelessly wedged beneath the console. He placed a hand on Jalan's
shoulder. "We can't take you with us," he said quietly.
Jalan nodded. "Then let me take a few of them with me, Captain." Rella
crawled over to Jalan. "You don't have to do this," she started to say.
"I'm most-wanted in three systems," he cut her off. "If they find me
alive, they're only going to make me wish I was dead anyway." Boiny looked at
Cohl, who nodded.
"Give him the destruct code. Rella, separate the ingots into four equal
allotments.
Put two allotments in my pack, one in yours, and one in Boiny's." He
glanced back at Boiny. "Weapons and aurodium only. No need for food or water,
because if we don't make it to the base, Dorvalla Penal will be providing all
of that for us. If that isn't inspiration enough for you, I don't know what to
Cohl shouldered his weighty pack, took a final compass reading, and set
off toward a nearby tor at a resolute clip. Rella and Boiny kept up as best
they could, climbing steadily under thick canopy for the first quarter hour
while the picket ship made pass after pass in search of some sign of them.
From the high ground, at the base of the lommite cliff, they could see
the picket ship hovering over the treetops.
Rella grimaced. "He found the shuttle." "Unlucky for him," Cohl said.
No sooner had the words left Cohl's mouth than an explosion ripped from
the forest floor, catching the picket ship unawares. The pilot managed to
evade the roiling fireball, but the damage had already been done. Engines
slagged, the fighter listed to port and dropped like a stone.
A second picket ship roared overhead, just as the first was exploding. A
third followed, angling directly for the base of the tor where Cohl and the
others were concealed.
The picket poured fire at the tor, blowing boulder-size chunks of lommite
from the cliff face. Cohl watched the ship complete its turn and set itself on
course for a second run. As it approached, a deeper, more dangerous sound
rolled through the humid air. Without warning, crimson energy lanced from the
underbelly of the clouds, clipping the picket's wings in midnight.
Unable to maneuver, the fighter flew nose first into the cliff face and
came apart.
"That's another one we won't have to worry about," Cohl said, loud enough
to be heard over the roar in the sky.
Rella raised her head in time to see a large ship tear overhead.
"The
Hawk-Bat!" She glanced at Cohl in surprise. "You knew.
You knew she would be down here." He shook his head. "The contingency
plan called for her to be here. But I didn't know for sure." She almost
smiled. "You may get that pardon yet." "Save it for when we're safely aboard."
The three of them scampered to their feet and began a hurried descent of a
scree field skirting the cliff face. Not far away, her weapons blazing, the
Hawk-Bat was setting down at the center of a Muddy and befouled catch basin.
T Thousands of sentient species had a home on Coruscant, though it might
be only a kilometer-high block of nondescript building.
And nearly all those species had a voice there, though it might be only
that of a representative long corrupted by the diverse pleasures Coruscant
offered.
Those manifold voices had their say in the Galactic Senate, which
sprouted like a squat mushroom from the heart of Corus - cant's governmental
district. Surrounded by lesser domes and buttressed buildings whose summits
disappeared into the busy sky, the senate was fronted by an expansive
pedestrian plaza. The plaza itself lorded over a sprawl of spired skyscrapers
and was studded with impressionistic statues thirty meters high, dedicated to
the Core World founders. Angular and humaniform in design, the long-limbed and
genderless sculptures stood on tall duracrete bases and held slender
ceremonial staffs.
The iconic motif was continued inside the senate, where many of the
public corridors that encircled the rotunda featured statues of similar
spindly design.
Proceeding briskly along one of those corridors, Senator Pal - patine
marveled at the fact that the senate had yet to commission and display
sculptures of nonhumanoid configuration. Where some delegates were willing to
dismiss the lack of nonhuman representation as a simple oversight, others
viewed it as an outright slight. To still others, the decor was a matter of
small concern, either way. But with nonhumanoid species dominant in the Mid
and Outer Rims, and their delegations fast overwhelming the senate--to the
secret dismay of many a Core World human delegate--changes were certainly in
order.
With its multilevel walkways, corridors, and vertical and horizontal
turbolifts, the hemispherical building was as labyrinthine as the inner
workings of the senate itself. Courtesy of Supreme Chancellor Valorum's