The Hand Of Thrawn Duology_ Specter Of The Past Part 14

"A little of everything," Luke told him. "Some Norsam DRX55 lift mines, a few Praxon emergency survival pods, some GTU power armor suits. Plus one or two little surprises."

"Yeah? The captain hates surprises."

"He'll love these," Luke promised. "Surprise number one is a set of hyperdrive boosters.

Surprise number two is an SB-20 security breach droid." He shrugged. "Course, if he doesn't want them, I'll be happy to take them off your hands."

"Yeah, I'll bet you would." The sentry snorted. "Okay, fine, come on in. You know the in-route, or do I gotta draw you a map?"

"I know it," Luke said, mentally crossing his fingers. There were supposedly only two safe paths in through the maze of asteroids to this particular base of the Cavrilhu Pirates: one of which was safe for the inbound trip, the other for the outbound. He'd pulled visuals for the routes from Pincher's mind while setting up the healing trance, and would feel reasonably confident about tracing out the path in his X-wing.

Doing the same in a lumbering Y60 Thala.s.sian cargo hauler was another matter entirely.

Especially when the Y60 no longer had any sublight drive units behind its central group of drive nozzles.

"Sure," the sentry sneered. "Try not to hit anything big."

The display went dead. Luke switched it off from his end, then keyed the makeshift intercom he'd rigged to the hollowed-out area where the central drive units had once been.

"We're on our way," he announced. "You doing okay back there?"

There was a twitter of acknowledgment from Artoo, along with a warble that sounded distinctly nervous. "Don't worry, we'll get through just fine," Luke soothed him. "You just make sure the ship's ready to fly."

The droid warbled again, and for a moment Luke thought back to the covert shroud gambit he and New Republic Intelligence bad cooked up for his penetration into the Imperial-held world of Poderis during the Thrawn campaign. There, too, he'd had Artoo and his X-wing stashed aboard a larger ship for a quick exit.

But this was a smuggler's freighter they were flying now, not a carefully designed breakaway vehicle. It was going to be a different matter entirely to get the X-wing clear if they needed to get out of here in a hurry.

Well, he'd cross that dune when he reached it. In the meantime, the preferred option would be to keep them from having to make that quick exit at all. And the first step in that was to convince the pirates' sentries that he was indeed a legitimate member of their supply network.

Resting his hands on the freighter's controls, be ran through his Jedi calming exercises.

"May the Force be with me," he murmured, and beaded in.

It wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected. With typical smuggler's finesse, Pinchers bad modified the Y60's engines and control surfaces to make the freighter faster and more maneuverable than its ungainly appearance would have implied, and even with the central drive section removed there was more than enough power Left to do the job. The ship easily bandied the sharp turns and backtracks necessary to keep it out of reach of the pirates'

defense setup, as well as the more mundane problem of not b.u.mping into any of the asteroids rolling past.

The whole trip rather reminded Luke of one of Leia's war stories, the one about the Falcon's dizzying escape through the asteroid field after the Rebels' evacuation of Hoth.

But of course, he wasn't flying full-bore through the floating rock pile the way they had, with TIE fighters and Imperial Star Destroyers breathing down his neck.

On his way out, of course, things might be different.

He reached the center of the maze to find himself approaching a large but otherwise undistinguished asteroid. According to New Republic Intelligence's meager information and supplemented by the snippets he'd pulled from Pincher's mind, the pirates' base consisted of a series of tunnels and chambers originally burned into the rock by some enterprising but unsuccessful pre-Clone Wars mining operation. The landing bays were camouflaged as valleys in the uneven surface, and as Luke approached the asteroid a ring of lights came on between two sharp-edged ridges to indicate his designated landing site. He eased the freighter into the opening-felt a brief jolt as he pa.s.sed through an atmosphere barrier-and with a multiple b.u.mp of landing legs he was down.

A lone man was waiting for him at the bottom of the landing ramp. "You Mensio?" he demanded gruffly, giving Luke's disguised face a quick once-over. His hand, Luke noticed, was resting with total lack of subtlety on the b.u.t.t of his holstered blaster.

"You expecting someone else?" Luke countered, resting his hand on his own blaster in response and looking around the landing bay. The room beneath the atmosphere-shield ceiling was more or less circular, roughly carved from the rock of the asteroid, with a half-dozen pressure doors s.p.a.ced more or less evenly around the perimeter. Austere in the extreme. "Yeah, I'm Mensio. Nice place you got here."

"We like it," the man said. "We just talked to Wesselman."

"No kidding," Luke said, still looking around. The New Republic Intelligence agent on Amorris was supposed to have locked Wesselman away incommunicado for the next few days. If he'd failed&mdashor if the supplier had somehow escaped&mdash "I hope you said hi for me."

"Yeah, we did," the pirate said darkly. "He says he's never heard of you."

"Really," Luke said casually, reaching out to the other with the Force. There was a level of suspicion in the pirate's mind, but no hint of the certainty that would mean such a conversation had actually taken place. This had to be a bluff.

Or rather, a test. "That's funny, you talking to him and all," Luke went on, finishing his inspection and focusing his gaze on the pirate. "Wesselman told me he was going to be out of touch for the next few days." He probed the other's mind a little deeper&mdash "Heading out to Morshdine sector, as I recall. Something about picking up a load of unregistered Tibanna gas for you?"

The pirate gave him a smile that was half sneer, and as he did so his suspicion faded away. "Yeah, that's where he's going, all right," he conceded. "Hasn't gotten there yet, though. We're still trying to contact him."

Luke shrugged, wishing he knew what Wesselman's exact itinerary was supposed to have been.

If the supplier got too far behind schedule, the pirates' suspicions would probably start rising again. Too late to do anything about that now, though. "Well, when you do, say hi for me," he said. "So. Did I pa.s.s?"

The pirate sneered again and lifted his left hand. Four of the six pressure doors slid open and four tough-looking thugs stepped through into the landing bay. Holstering their drawn blasters, they headed toward Luke's freighter. "Yeah, you pa.s.sed," he said. "You got any fancy locks or b.o.o.by traps on your cargo hold we should know about?"

"Nope, everything's clear," Luke said. "Help yourselves. You got any food around here?

That shipboard stuff gets worse every day."

"Sure," the pirate said, pointing to one of the two doors that hadn't had a guard waiting behind it. "Snack area's through there. Don't drink it dry-we'll have you unloaded in a couple of hours, and I don't want you tackling the out-route half-drunk. It'd make a mess, and I'd be the one who'd have to clean it up."

The indicated door led into a room about ten meters long and four wide, with a pair of tables equipped with bench seats arranged down the center. Along the right-hand wall stood various music and vid stations; along the opposite side was a waist-high counter with a gleaming SE-5 service droid waiting behind it.

"Good day, fine sir," the droid said brightly as Luke stepped into the room. "May I be of a.s.sistance?"

"You got any tomo-spiced karkan ribenes?" Luke asked, glancing around. There were no exits that he could see that might lead from this room into the rest of the complex. Not surprising, really, considering the sort of visitors the snack area catered to.

"Yes, fine sir, I most certainly do," the droid a.s.sured him, shuffling over a few steps and producing a package from beneath the counter. "It will take only a few moments to prepare them."

Luke grunted. "Fine."

It took just under four minutes, in fact, for the droid to heat the slab of ribenes and arrange them artistically on a plate. Luke spent the time wandering around the room, ostensibly looking at the vid stations, actually hunting for hidden spy cams.

He'd spotted three of them by the time his meal was ready. Even in a completely isolated room, the Cavrilhu Pirates weren't taking any chances.

"May I provide you something to drink?" the droid asked as he presented Luke with the plate.

"Don't bother," Luke said. "I've got better stuff on my ship."

"Ah," the droid said. "Will you need a set of utensils?"

Luke gave him a scornful look. With spiced ribenes? You must be kidding."

"Oh," the droid murmured, looking a little nonplused. "Well . .. do enjoy, fine sir."

Luke turned away, suppressing the out-of-character reflex to thank the droid. Tearing one of the ribenes off the end of the slab, he munched on it as he headed back out into the landing bay.

The pirates hadn't been idle in his absence. They'd gotten the Y60's wide cargo ramp lowered and were beginning to bring the big transport boxes out on repulsorlift floater carts. "I hope you're watching the corners with those things," Luke warned one of them, jabbing toward the floater cart with his ribene. "I don't want my restraint rings getting all chewed up."

"Tuck your teeth in," the other growled, flipping his head to toss a short braid back over one shoulder. "Nothing's gonna get chewed up. Cept maybe your skin if you give us any static."

"Yeah-you and who else?" Luke fired back, heading past him up the ramp. "You don't mind if I check for myself."

"Just don't get in the way."

There were two other pirates in the cargo hold, one just settling his box into place on his floater cart, the other already starting for the ramp with his load. Luke crossed to the side bulkhead, stretching out with the Force as he pretended to examine the restraint rings for damage. In the near distance, somewhere down one of the asteroid's corridors, he could sense two more of the pirates returning for their next load. He estimated the timing yes. He should just be able to make it.

The last of the two pirates was almost to the ramp now. Grunting with apparent satisfaction as to the safety of his equipment, Luke changed direction, crossing the hold toward the access door leading into the freighter's living section. The pirate maneuvered his cart down the ramp and turned around the side of the ship.

And for perhaps the next ten seconds, Luke was alone.

There was no time to waste, but he and Artoo had had plenty of time to practice on the flight here and had gotten the drill down to a science. Whistling softly, Luke stepped to the box the two of them had prepared, at the same time getting a Force grip on his ribene plate and sending it flying smoothly across the hold. Artoo had heard the whistled signal, opening the access door as the meal neared it. Luke took another moment to ease the plate as far into the living section as he could see, then set it down on the deck and pulled open the side panel on the box beside him.

Inside, well packaged against random b.u.mps, was Wesselman's fancy SB-20 security breach droid. It wasn't going to do the pirates any good now, not with most of its insides cut away, but the sh.e.l.l that was left would make an ideal hiding place for a quiet infiltration of their base. Curling himself up, Luke squeezed into the narrow s.p.a.ce and pulled the box's side panel closed again.

Just in time. Beneath him, the deck vibrated slightly as the returning pirates climbed up the ramp. Luke stretched out with the Force, sensing as he did so their sudden suspicion.

He ran through his sensory enhancement techniques&mdash "Control, this is "Grinner," a murmured voice came to Luke's ears, as clear as if the pirate had been standing right beside him. "You see our smuggler anywhere?"

"Last I saw, he was headed into the hold," the faint voice of the pirate Luke had talked to earlier came in response. "Said he was worried about his restraint rings."

"Yeah, he was there when we left," another voice agreed.

"Fine," Grinner said. "So where is he now?"

"Probably inside," the second voice said. "He was headed that direction when Fulkes and I were leaving, chomping down on a plate of ribenes."

"Probably looking for something to wash down the tomospice with," a new voice added. "He told the service droid he had some good drinking stuff aboard."

"Maybe," Grinner grunted, the word almost covered over by the soft hiss of metal on steelhide as he drew his blaster. "Or maybe he's trying something cute, like hiding in one of these boxes. You want to get a scanner crew down here, Control?"

"Steady, Grinner," the unfamiliar voice advised him. "Let me run a check first."

For a long moment the hold was silent. Keeping his Force hold on the side of the box, Luke unsealed the flap of his tunic and got a grip on his lightsaber. If. they didn't buy this, he would have to take them out.

"You can all decompress," Control's voice said. "He's gone inside, all right. The plate he took out of the snack room is about five meters inside that door in front of you. There's no way he could have stashed it in there and gotten back out to the hold in the-let's see-in the nine seconds he was out of sight."

There was a faint snort and the sound of Grinner's blasts being holstered again. "Yeah, okay," he said. "There's just something about this guy I don't like."

Luke took his hand off his lightsaber, letting his breath out slowly in a silent sigh of relief. His original idea, back when he'd first borrowed this ship, had been to simply take whatever food he'd scrounged into the box with him. But that plan had felt wrong, somehow, and he and Artoo had worked out this variation instead. He was very glad now that they had.

"So get him unloaded and out of here," Control said. "You see any sign of that SB-20 droid he said he brought? I want that one next."

"Uh . . . no. Only droid box I see is an R2 unit."

"That's the one," Control said. "A SB-20 is an R2 sh.e.l.l with espionage gear and programming tucked away inside."

Luke's box lurched as the pirate got his float cart underneath it. "Never heard of it."

"They're not exactly advertised at droid depots," Control said acidly. "The captain's been after Wesselman for one for years."

Grinner grunted. "And this one just happens to show up here today, huh? Convenient."

"Give it a rest, Grinner," the other pirate in the hold said. "Okay, I've got the droid.

Where do you want it?"

"Electronics shop," Control told him. "The captain wants Pap and K'Cink to check it out."

"Right."

A moment later they were off, angling down the ramp and across the landing-bay floor. Luke braced himself against the droid sh.e.l.l, listening to the sounds around him and trying to ignore the violent shaking that was really only the small b.u.mps and vibrations of the float cart. He had a.s.sumed he would be taken to whatever storage place the rest of the cargo was bound for, which would presumably have given him a certain amount of privacy for his exit from the box. On the other hand, the electronics shop was probably closer to the command areas of the base, which was his ultimate goal. All in all, a fair trade-off.

They pa.s.sed through one of the pressure doors, and for a few minutes the only sounds were the hum of the float cart's repulsorlifts and the pirate's footsteps and raspy breathing.

Then, gradually, more sounds began to filter in: other voices and footsteps, mostly distant but occasionally pa.s.sing close by. Luke stretched out with the Force, sensing a variety of human and alien minds in the vicinity. There was an odd change of echo as they apparently left the corridor and entered a larger room; another change, this time in reverse, marked where they left the room and pa.s.sed into a corridor again. The float can turned around a corner, then another; entered another open s.p.a.ce filled with the dull rumble of muted voices&mdash "Lanius?" Control's voice said.

"Yeah, you got me," the pirate pushing Luke's float cart said.

"Change of plans227Pap's got something torn apart in the shop and doesn't have room for your droid. Go park it in the Level Four storeroom."

"Yeah, okay." The float cart slowed and changed direction. "Too much to ask for them to make up their minds?"

"Very funny," Control growled. "Just hustle it, okay?"

"I'm hustling, I'm hustling," Lanius grumped under his breath.

The cart moved on; but even as it again changed corridors, Luke began to feel an odd sensation tingling at the back of his mind. Somewhere-somehow-something had suddenly gone wrong.

He stretched out with the Force again, trying to track down the sensation. Ahead, a door hissed open and the cart again entered a large room. It seemed to be taking a long time to get across it . .

And then, abruptly, the cart stopped. "What the-" the pirate spat.

"Get out of the way, Lanius," the voice of Control boomed over a loudspeaker. "You've got yourself a rider."

The pirate bit out a curse, and there was a scramble of feet as he darted away from the lift cart. "All right, whoever you are," Control continued. "We know you're in there-we got a clear scan from the security corridor. Come on out."

Luke grimaced. So that's what that tingling sensation had been: a premonition of the mess he was now in. A pity he hadn't paid more attention to it, though offhand he couldn't see what he could have done to change anything at that point.

And anyway, berating himself for errors in judgment would gain him nothing. Pulling out his comlink, he thumbed it on. "Artoo?" he said softly.

There was no answer, just a quiet burst of static. "Oh, and we've also jammed your transmissions," Control added. "I'm afraid the only one you're going to be able to talk to is me."

So Luke was on his own. Tucking his lightsaber a little deeper into its hiding place, he sealed the tunic flap loosely across it. "Okay," he shouted. "Hold your fire-I'm coming out."

He released his Force grip on the side panel and let it swing open. Three pirates were visible, standing well back from the box, their blasters steady on him. Five others, he could sense, were spread out around the box outside his field of view.