The Jedi Academy Trilogy_ Jedi Search Part 6

He squirmed. "Well, I lost it in a sabacc game."

She couldn't keep herself from laughing. "So you're out of work?"

His expression of wounded pride was obviously faked. Leia considered for a moment. "We could always reactivate your commission as a general in the New Republic. You and Wedge were a great team on Calamari."

His eyes widened. "Are you offering me a job? I can't imagine what you would want me to do."

"Formal receptions, state dinners... plenty of wealthy backers wandering around," Leia said. "The possibilities are endless."

Just then the old protocol droid shuffled through the arch again, but before he could announce his business, See-Threepio and Artoo-Detoo bustled around him, making a direct path to Leia. "Princess Leia!"

Threepio could not contain his excitement. "We've found one. Artoo, tell the princess. Oh, General Calrissian! What are you doing here?"

Artoo launched into a series of electronic sounds, which Threepio dutifully translated. "Artoo was checking the records of various winners in different gambling establishments throughout the galaxy. We seem to have encountered a man who has extraordinary luck at the Umgullian blob races."

Threepio handed a hardcopy printout of the winning statistics to Leia, but she pa.s.sed it on to Lando. "You're better trained to understand this than I am." Lando took the page of figures and stared at them. He didn't appear to know what he was looking for.

Threepio added his own commentary. "If it is displayed only as wins and losses, Mr. Tymmo's record shows nothing out of the ordinary. But when I had Artoo plot the magnitude of wins, you will note that while Mr.

Tymmo loses quite often in minor races, in every instance when he bets more than a hundred credits on a particular blob, that blob wins the race!"

Lando tapped the sheet of numbers. "He's right. This is pretty unusual. I've never seen the Umgullian blob races myself, and I'm no expert in the nuances, but I'm inclined to say that these odds are next to impossible."

"This is exactly the sort of thing Master Luke asked us to look for." Threepio moved his arms up and down, whirring the servomotors until they whined in protest. "Do you think Mr. Tymmo could be a potential Jedi for Master Luke's academy?"

Lando looked at Leia with questions in his eyes. He had obviously not heard of Luke's recent speech. But Leia's eyes sparkled. "Someone needs to check this out. If it's just a scam, we need a person who knows his way around gambling establishments, Lando, isn't that a job you could do?"

She knew his answer before she even asked the question.

The cracked and gasping wastelands of Kessel always made Moruth Doole hungry. Staring out the landscape window, Doole's mechanical eye focused to the far distance.

Kessel's surface was whitish and powdery, with a few hardy transplanted weeds trying to survive in the crevices. Great plumes from the atmosphere factories gushed into the pinkish sky in a losing battle against the weak gravity. Unseen radiation from the Maw crackled against the atmospheric shields. The garrison moon housing Kessel's defense fleet was just setting on the horizon.

Doole turned from the window and went to an alcove in the former warden's office. Time for a snack.

He withdrew a cage of fat and juicy flying insects, pressing his face close to the mesh so he could see better with his dim eyesight. The insects had ten legs, iridescent body cases, and succulent abdomens. They panicked the moment he moved the cage.

Doole rapped spongy fingers on the mesh, stirring them up. The insects flew around the confined s.p.a.ce in a frenzy. Somehow terror released a hormone that made their meat sweeter. He licked his swollen Rybet lips.

Opening the mesh door, Doole thrust his entire head into the cage.

The insects fluttered around his eyes, his ears, his cheeks. Doole's sharp tongue shot out again and again, spearing the insects and slurping them into his mouth. He snapped up three more, then paused to swallow.

Their squirming legs tickled the inside of his mouth. Giving a sigh of pleasure, Doole lapped up another pair. One insect flew directly into his open mouth, and Doole swallowed it whole.

Someone knocked on his door and marched in before he could respond.

Wearing the insect cage over his head, Doole turned around to see Skynxnex, his gangly arms and legs jittering. "I have a report, Moruth."

Doole extricated his head from the insect cage, then sealed the opening. Three bugs managed to escape and flew to the wide picture window, flinging themselves against the transparisteel. Doole decided to catch them later. "Yes? What is it?"

"We have finished overhauling the Millennium Falcon. All identifying marks are removed, replaced with fake serial numbers. We made a few other modifications in addition to the regular repairs it needed.

With your permission I'll have it flown up to the garrison moon where it can be incorporated into our s.p.a.ce navy. Light freighters aren't the best warships, but with a good pilot they can still cause plenty of damage--and the Falcon is closer to a fighter than a freighter."

Doole nodded. "Good, good. What about our work on the energy shield generators? I want them functional as soon as possible, just in case the New Republic comes after us."

"Our engineers on the moonbase think they can reroute the circuits so we won't need all the parts we're missing. Kessel will be impregnable before long."

Doole's single eye lit up with eagerness. "Have Han Solo and his Wookiee gone into the mines yet?"

Skynxnex tapped his fingertips together. "I've reserved an armored personnel transport and will make the delivery personally within the hour." He fingered his double-blaster. "If they try anything, I want to be the one to deal with it."

Doole smiled. "I look forward to them rotting in the dark." He waved his splayed hands. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Moving with his jerky walk, Skynxnex left the warden's chambers.

Doole smiled at the thought of his revenge on Solo, but uneasiness tugged at him. The New Republic seemed far away and insignificant, but from his scan of Han's mind, he knew the magnitude of firepower that could be directed against him. Not since Doole had taken over the prison facilities from Kessel's upstart slave lords had he felt such impending doom.

Under the old system it had been so much simpler. By blackmailing or paying off prison guards, Doole had managed to set himself up as a kingpin of spice smuggling right under the Empire's nose. He sold maps and access codes for Kessel's energy shield, fostering small-time spice operations on other parts of the planet. Hapless entrepreneurs would work their new mines, then sell the product in secret to Doole. Once the spice veins began to play out, Doole (acting as a loyal prison official) would "discover" the illicit operation and report it to his Imperial contact.

When Imperial troops raided those illegal mines, Doole's handpicked guards made certain that anyone who could point a finger at Doole never survived capture. The other helpless lackeys would be put to work in the primary mines. It was a win-win situation for Doole.

During the prison revolt Doole targeted his primary rivals and made the toughest guards go after the worst smugglers until they slaughtered each other. This left Moruth Doole in charge, with Skynxnex as his right-hand man.

Doole had captured the warden, sending him to work in the spice mines until he was broken. Then, for the entertainment value, Doole had planted spice grubs in his body. As the grubs chewed up his insides, the warden had gone through marvelously theatrical convulsions, in the middle of which Doole encased him in carbonite, using freezing equipment that had once been used to prepare violent and dangerous prisoners for transport.

Reminiscing always aroused him. Reaching into a drawer of his desk, Doole withdrew the bright-yellow cravat that signified his readiness to mate. He secured it in place, then drew in a long hissing breath as he refocused his mechanical eye and glanced at his reflection. Irresistible!

Doole rubbed his palms along his ribs to straighten the lizard-skin waistcoat, then strutted out of his office, down the corridor. He entered the secure wing, keying in the access code that only he knew; then he sucked in a deep breath. Flicking his tongue in and out, he could pick up the pheromones from the air.

Inside their cubicle-cells, the captive Rybet females huddled in the corners, trying to hide in the shadows. Doole's yellow cravat seemed very bright in the dimness.

Alone on Kessel, Moruth Doole had been frustrated for many years.

But now that he ran the planet, he could afford to have dozens of female slaves shipped from his homeworld. Sometimes the females did not cooperate, but after years of working in the correctional facility, Doole had plenty of experience in dealing with unruly prisoners.

Lately, his only difficulty had been in choosing among the females.

As he sauntered down the narrow corridor, setting his mechanical eye to high focus and peering into the cells, Moruth Doole's writhing lips formed a huge, l.u.s.tful smile.

Kessel's landscape rushed beneath the armored prisoner transport.

Han Solo could see only a narrow strip through the window slits in the prisoners' compartment. He and Chewie had been strapped into their seats and linked to resistance-feedback electrodes that would knock them unconscious if they struggled too much. Chewbacca had even more trouble with the full-body restraint than he had with the stun-cuffs.

Skynxnex hunched over the pilot controls, circling the transport away from the battlements of the Imperial Correction Facility. An armored guard sat in the copilot's seat, directing his blaster rifle toward Han and Chewie.

"Hey, how about pointing out some of the landmarks, Skynxnex?" Han said. "What kind of tour is this, anyway?"

"Shut up, Solo!" Skynxnex said.

"Why should I? I bought a full-price ticket."

Skynxnex sent a painful jolt through the restraining electrodes.

Chewbacca roared. Han muttered, "There goes your tip, Skynxnex."

The scarecrow guided the transport around a huge open pit that plunged deep into the ground. Rusted girders and support structures stood like skeletal fingers propped up in the whitish barrens. It took Han a moment to realize this was a shaft bored into the crust by the giant atmosphere factories, chewing through the rocks and dissolving out oxygen and carbon dioxide to replenish the constantly fading air. After the huge factory had sucked out the viable breathing gases, it had left access to an entire network of underground tunnels for spice mining.

Skynxnex set the prisoner transport down on the rocky ground and fitted a breath mask over his nose and mouth; he gave another mask to the guard.

"What about us?" Han said.

"You won't be out very long," Skynxnex said. "A little light-headedness will do you good."

Punching a b.u.t.ton on the control panel, Skynxnex released their restraints. Han stretched his sore arms. Instantly, the guard snapped up his rifle, and Skynxnex whipped out his modified double-blaster, both pointing the deadly barrels directly at Han.

Han froze. "Just ... stretching. It's okay. Calm down!"

When Skynxnex opened the side door to the transport vehicle, Han felt his ears pop. Moist air flashed into white vapor, wafting in the rarefied atmosphere next to the open pit.

Han felt oxygen being stolen from his lungs. Instinctively, he drew in a deep breath, but that helped little. He and Chewbacca stumbled out of the craft as Skynxnex and the guard prodded them.

At the rim of the crater they found an elevator cage on tracks that plunged deep into the pit. Skynxnex seemed to be moving with deliberate slowness. Unable to breathe, Han tried to hurry, stumbling into the elevator cage and gesturing Chewbacca after him. He gasped and wheezed.

Black spots began to appear in front of his eyes. When he did manage to breathe an entire lungful of the thin air, the cold of Kessel bit into his chest.

"A few years ago we had the atmosphere factories running full tilt," Skynxnex said, his words m.u.f.fled behind the facemask. "Doole figured it was a frivolous waste of energy."

The guard shut the wire mesh door, and Skynxnex operated the elevator controls. The cage descended at a rapid clip until the window of sky shrank to a small spot of blue light high above.

They saw openings into the rock wall sealed off with steel doors.

At each level a ring of light encircled the pit, but many of the illuminators had either burned out or been broken.

Chewbacca hung on to the bars of the elevator with his long hairy arms, panting for air. His pink tongue protruded, turning purplish from lack of oxygen. Han, shivering and dizzy and starved for breath, slumped to the bottom of the elevator.

When the elevator abruptly stopped, the jolt slammed Han's head into the mesh. As he looked down through the open cage floor, he saw the pit continuing immeasurably far below them.

"Get up!" Skynxnex said, kicking him. "No time to sleep. Come on, you'll get a breath of fresh air inside."

With some help from Skynxnex, Han managed to haul himself to his feet. The smaller guard had much more difficulty manhandling Chewbacca forward.

Opening the gate of the elevator, they had access to one of the sealed metal doors. Skynxnex cranked the hatch, and all four of them staggered into a small tiled chamber.

Han could barely see anymore. His ears buzzed. His eyesight was a mixture of black specks, roaring blood, and dim shadows of the objects around him. But as soon as Skynxnex sealed the door, glorious oxygen flooded the chamber.

Before the captives could recover, the guard shoved the barrel of his blaster rifle under Chewbacca's chin, and Skynxnex held his own weapon against Han's head. "Almost there," Skynxnex said. "No funny stuff now."

Han, happy just to be breathing again, couldn't dream of doing anything. At least not yet.

On the other side of the airlock was a large muster room filled with lethargic-looking workers ready to begin their shift in the spice mines. The muster room had been blasted out of solid rock, and a tall bank of bunks ran along one side of the room. An empty eating section with long tables took up the central area.

Cameras stared down at the activity from perches on the walls.

Guards in hodgepodge stormtrooper uniforms waited behind screens in the control rooms. Other guards kept an eye on the people moving about in the muster area. All the workers looked pale and haggard, as if they had been underground and underfed for years.

A burly man strode up to meet them, keeping his eyes fixed on Skynxnex. The man had a lumpy face, a lumpy chin covered with bristly black stubble, and lumpy arms as if his ma.s.sive muscles had all been attached at the wrong places.

"You brought me two more?" the man said. "Only two? That's not enough." He reached out to grab Chewbacca's hairy arm. Chewbacca roared and flinched away, but the lumpy man didn't notice. "Well, the Wookiee's worth three men, but I don't know about the other one. This doesn't take care of half the people I've lost."

Skynxnex glowered at him. "So stop losing people," he said with a voice of ice, then nudged Han. "This is Boss Roke. He's in charge of breaking you. He gets extra points with Moruth Doole to make your life miserable."

"He doesn't seem to be doing a very good job of keeping track of his workers," Han said.

Roke flashed him a withering glare. "Something's taking my men down in the deep tunnels. I've had two more missing since yesterday. They vanish without a trace--no locators, nothing."

Han shrugged. "It's hard to get good help these days."

Skynxnex pulled out his double-blaster and shoved it in Han's face again, but he spoke to Boss Roke. "Get thermal suits for these two. We'll watch them while they get into uniform."

Roke snapped his fingers, and two guards went rummaging through some cubicles. "The human won't be difficult, but the Wookiee--we don't carry much in that size."

In the end the guard found a large misshapen suit that had once been worn by some alien creature that had three arms, but it fit Chewbacca well enough after they sealed off the third arm; the empty sleeve and glove dangled down his chest.

A heater-pack between the shoulder blades powered the whole thing to keep them warm down in the frigid mine tunnels. Han was relieved to see a small breath mask attached to the suit.

Skynxnex backed toward the elevator. The guard had already entered the airlock chamber. One last time, as if he felt he hadn't used enough tiresome threats for one afternoon, Skynxnex pointed the double-blaster at Han. "Next time maybe Moruth will let me use this."

"If you clean up your room without being told, and if you eat all your vegetables," Han taunted, "then he might let you have a special treat."

"Shift alpha, ready for work detail!" Boss Roke bellowed into the muster room, and dozens of weary people shuffled to squares painted on the floor. Roke pointed to two empty squares. "You two, positions eighteen and nineteen. Now!"

"What, no new-employee orientation?" Han asked.

With a s.a.d.i.s.tic grin on his face, Boss Roke shoved him toward the squares. "It's on-the-job training."

At some unspoken signal the workers mounted breath masks on their faces. Seeing this, Han and Chewbacca followed suit. A big metal door on the far side of the wall slid open to reveal an illuminated chamber a hundred meters long, in which floated a centipede-like mine transport of little cars linked together by magnetic attractors.

A high-pitched tone pinged through hidden speakers, and the workers took their seats on one of the floating mine cars. As people climbed aboard, the separate sections of the cars swayed back and forth.

Chewbacca grunted a question. Han looked around, blinking. "I don't know any more about this than you do, buddy." Now that Skynxnex had departed, he no longer needed to continue his bl.u.s.tering. Fear started to trickle into his limbs.

Boss Roke took a seat in the pilot car; other guards were stationed evenly throughout the open tram. All the guards wore infrared goggles.

Every one of the prisoners sat motionless. Behind them the metal door slammed shut. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

"Now what?" Han mumbled to himself.

All the lights went out. Han and Chewbacca plunged into an absolute suffocating blackness like a blanket of tar.