Young Jedi Knights_ Trouble On Cloud City Part 4

As they entered the swamps, Tenel Ka reached out with her Jedi senses to detect anything amiss. A tide of sounds and smells and tastes washed over them. The odors of mildew, algae, and decaying plant matter a.s.sailed her nostrils, yet she did not find them offensive. The air was warm and humid, though not uncomfortable. Chirrups, gurgles, croaks, buzzes, twitters, and growls chorused from every tree and muddy pool around them.

Occasionally, Tenel Ka noticed construction workers adding finishing touches to the exhibit-a bit more hanging moss here, another holographic swamp creature there-but otherwise, the impression of an unexplored swampland was surprisingly convincing.

She found a long vine dangling across their path and, on the a.s.sumption that this was also part of the entertainment, she wrapped her arm around it, tested her weight. It held. Then, grasping the vine a little farther up, she swung out halfway over a murky brownish-green pool and let go.

She splashed down with satisfying force and found herself waist deep in muddy, lukewarm water.

Lando grinned. "Glad to see you're getting into the spirit of this.

That water's perfectly clean, by the way. It's been artificially 'muddied' with purified sand and food colorings."

Tenel Ka watched with great interest as her transparalon suit repelled the "dirty" water. Inside the suit she was comfortably clean and dry.

"But whatever is the point of all this?" Em Teedee asked.

Lowie chuffed with laughter. Jaina and Jacen giggled. "It's fun, Em Teedee," Jacen said. "Loosen up a little and get into it."

"I shall do my utmost, Master Jacen. Provided I don't damage any of my circuits. It's certainly a comfort that Mistress Jaina saw fit to waterproof my casing last year."

Lando reached out and helped haul Tenel Ka back out of the mud.

"I can show you some even better pools if you all want to go for a swim after midday meal." He led them around a dense clump of trees and bushes.

"This is where we're going to eat."

He gestured to an open area that hadn't been visible from the trail.

"We call this the Bayou Buffet." He spread his arms and indicated a serving area fifty meters long. The tables were made to look like fallen and rotting logs whose tops just happened to be perfectly flat.

A small Ugnaught construction worker tinkered with something under one of the tables.

"And over here is the stage," Lando said, walking to a raised platform at the center of the open area. "How you doin'?" he greeted a scrawny young man with a wispy beard who was busily connecting pieces of a sound system to speakers embedded at the base of the stage.

The young man nodded, but continued working.

Lando turned back to the young Jedi Knights. "Cojahn was planning on booking bands that could play real swamp music, maybe some Bith musicians. The band will provide entertainment while people sit and eat authentic meals from various swamp climates."

"Sounds like fun," Jaina said.

"Yeah, well," Lando said wistfully, "I guess he never got around to booking a band before-"

"Excuse me, sir," the scrawny young man on the stage interrupted.

Tenel Ka sensed tension in the wispy-bearded boy.

"Yes?" Lando gave the boy his full attention.

"Begging your pardon, but Master Cojahn did book a band for this stage."

Lando's eyebrows went up. He looked relieved that one major detail had already been taken care of "Oh? Which band? When do they start?"

The young man glanced around, as if to make sure no one was watching or listening, then lowered his voice and leaned toward Lando.

"Call themselves Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes. And they already started." He glanced furtively around again, nodded several times, and then said, "But they stopped."

"Figrin D'an? Great band. Used to b.u.mp into them here and there in my smuggling days. But how could they have finished their gig already?"

Lando mused. "We haven't even opened yet."

"Master Cojahn had them doing promotional appearances at casinos on Cloud City, to get some advance interest for SkyCenter here."

"So where are they now?" Lando asked.

"Exactly," the boy whispered, nodding as if Lando had discovered some deep truth. "They're gone, disappeared, run off in the night. They were supposed to be here all the way through the grand opening, but the same day Master Cojahn went over that balcony-the whole band packed up and left Bespin. No explanation at all. Didn't even bother to collect the credits they were owed for the gig they did that day." He nodded again.

"Didn't collect their credits? That doesn't sound like Figrin at all!"

Now it was Lando's turn to glance around to see if anyone was watching or listening. "Thank you," he said in a low voice. "You've been a big help."

"It sounds to me like they must have seen something or learned something, " Zekk said. "Leaving like that is a sign that someone's afraid and on the run."

"It's not much of a connection," Jaina observed quietly.

"No," Lando said, "but it's the best lead we've got so far. I'd say that the band's disappearing on the same day Cojahn died is a bit too much of a coincidence. One way or another, I've got to find out what they know."

"They are gone," Tenel Ka pointed out. "How will you find them?"

Lando squared his shoulders and gave them all a determined look.

"I'll have to check the pa.s.senger records for that day, but I'd be willing to bet they went to ground in the safest place they could think of-on the Bith homeworld. And if I have to, I'll follow them there to find out what happened."

Ord Mantell had been his home, his base of operations... his lair, for many years, but Czethros knew well enough never to get too attached to any one place.

The true mastery and skill of running an important part of the ultrasecret Black Sun organization meant that he had to be flexible-as flexible as an Umgullian blob. He had two completely separate lives: one as a well-respected and influential businessman on Ord Mantell, and one as a powerful lieutenant of the insidious criminal organization that had infiltrated many important industries and businesses in the New Republic.

He was a mixture of light and darkness, a man no one truly knew. He lived in the shadows.

Czethros sat at his cluttered desk in a high warehouse tower on Ord Mantell. Outside in the anteroom, computer screens and robotic receptionists diverted the common business activities, aboveboard correspondence, and trivial conversations that allowed Czethros to run one of the most successful shipping and packaging companies on the entire planet.

Everything had been set up for him through Black Sun.

But these legitimate activities were a mere cover-up, the tiniest fraction of the income he contributed to the hidden coffers of the underground criminal group. After all this time, he found it somewhat bothersome to keep such a clean public face for inconsequential people like Han Solo and the other nosy officials of the New Republic. In a way, however, the pretense amused him, and he would keep it up for now.

Soon though, once his plans were completed, his arm of Black Sun would be so solid and so influential that no one in the New Republic would dare question anything he did.

Czethros had been a lieutenant in the once-powerful Black Sun, a henchman, a hired killer, a bounty hunter-an expediter for the plans of powerful leaders such as Prince Xizor and Durga the Hutt. He had learned how to be ruthless, how to kill, how to take care of difficult situations before they became real problems.

Yet numerous crackdowns and disasters had forced Black Sun to go underground, into hiding. Some thought the criminal organization had been mortally weakened. But now Czethros and a few other lieutenants were working to build a newer, more powerful organization.

This new Black Sun wou'J become dominant, because Czethros knew how to work both sides of the law, the dark and the light.

Keeping track of the many ongoing threads of his master plan put him under constant pressure.

He sat back at his desk, touched a hidden control under the front drawer, and his flat image screen flipped over to reveal a secret terminal.

Tweaking a volume control, he turned up the dissonant Sull.u.s.tan opera that had been playing in the background. The squeaky, overlapping tones gave most people instant headaches-at the very least, the noise kept strangers out of his office. Coincidentally, Sull.u.s.tan opera had the added benefit of being particularly effective at jamming all known histening devices.

Czethros focused his cyber-eye on the secondary screen and scratched at the moss-green hair that covered his scarred head. Then he adjusted the visor over his eyes, tuning the reception spectrum deeper into the infrared. He nodded with satisfaction as a formerly invisible series of letters and words suddenly appeared on the screen. Human eyes could not read them, but with his visor Czethros could pick up every letter as perfectly as if it were written in fire.

He knew he would not be disturbed. In the reception area outside, his two beautifully polished female-form receptionist droids handled the incoming calls and correspondence with their protocol programming.

Dimly, he could hear their sultry voices repeating the familiar phrases: "Master Czethros is in a meeting,"

"Master Czethros is unavailable,"

"You'll find that Master Czethros has already attended to that matter."

Meanwhile, he sat back and called up the encrypted files that showed summaries of the most important Black Sun activities. This was how he got his real work done.

His weapons-running business had shown a great profit over the past few years, especially with the dragged-out civil war on An.o.bis. But sales of destructive devices had taken a recent downturn there, thanks to the cursed peacemaking efforts of that meddling Han Solo and the young Jedi Knights.

Czethros had tried to have Anja take care of the meddlers, but since he'd been forced to keep his involvement in An.o.bis gun-running activities a secret-especially from her-he could hardly explain to Anja why it was important to him. Anja was so volatile, such a loose cannon, that she might even turn against him, if she ever found out he had kept the war going on her home planet to increase his profits.

Czethros sighed. It was merely a temporary setback in the overall picture. He was certain Black Sun operatives would be able to start wars and revolutions on several other planets. It usually wasn't hard.

Scapegoats could be found everywhere-an unattributed comment here, an anonymous bomb planted there-and before long, two uneasy factions would be at each other's throats (or whatever other breathing mechanisms their species used). His stockpile of weapons would soon be back in demand.

He fine-tuned his plans for digging Black Sun's claws into the gambling and entertainment activities on various planets such as Bespin and Borgo Prime. Everything was proceeding quite satisfactorily. Now that he had gotten rid of the main opposition on Cloud City, Czethros knew the way was clear for him. Black Sun operatives would soon be raking in profits from all those establishments, as well as infiltrating the floating gambling casinos and resorts on the oceans of Mon Calamari.

On the spectrum-shifted screen a star map displayed bright points that represented Black Sun strongholds; the galaxy looked very bright indeed.

After such a long buildup, his operatives were in place preparing for the great revolt. It would not be long before Czethros could give the signal.

But first he had to cement the rest of his plans.

The illicit spice-running market continued to grow. His pirates and smugglers hijacked shipments of glitterstim, andris, and ryll spice, selling the contraband substances at greatly inflated prices to waiting customers. Shortly before the brief battle and its utterly a.s.sured victory, Czethros would place himself in control of the famed spice mines of Kessel.

From that point on-within days, if everything worked out rightthe rest of the galaxy would be in his hands. His financial and political power would be firmly established. The banner of Black Sun would fly proudly beside the flag of the New Republic.

Czethros switched off the spectrum-shifted terminal, hid it beneath the normal innocuous screen again, and stood. Taking two quick strides toward the wide window, he gazed across the equatorial band of metropolis that girdled Ord Mantell. So much out there, so many possibilities.

But he dared not let his involvement be exposed yet. The timing was too delicate. If the wrong people learned that Black Sun activities were being controlled in part by the respected businessman Czethros, he might lose everything. His laser eye flashed from right to left in his visor, burning red.

Within weeks, though, when he sent his signal, and the battle cry went out to all their infiltrators, the grand coup would establish Black Sun's power in countless places at once. The victory would be so sudden, simultaneous, and far-reaching that the New Republic could never extricate the criminal organization, short of declaring outright war on its own worlds.

Unfortunately, the news Anja had just sent him from Cloud City meant that the young Jedi Knights would not rest until they had meddled in all of his affairs. He knew he'd have to take care of the situation quickly and cleanly. His choice was clear, and his conscience-if he still possessed one-would not trouble him. Besides, Czethros already had plenty of blood on his hands. A little more would make no difference.

Without a second thought, he dispatched orders that would neatly dispose of Han Solo's twins and their companions. He had scores of operatives already in place on Bespin who would be eager for the extra a.s.signment, the overtime pay.

Rubbing his hands together, Czethros moved on to the next challenge.

He fixed a smile on his face and signaled his receptionist droids that it was safe to begin admitting regular visitors. Czethros and his shipping company were now open for business.

He had a skill for presenting a polite and friendly facade to prospective customers, but it remained quite an ordeal for him. He hated to smile.

Soon, Czethros hoped he would never have to feign a smile again.

Lando, Jaina, and Zekk worked on the Lady Luck, preparing it for a quick journey to the Bith homeworld of Clak'dor VII. Though Jacen, Lowie, and Tenel Ka would remain on Cloud City to continue the local investigation, they helped with the flight preparations. Anja, however, kept to herself and was nowhere to be found.

"Sorry I can't take you all with me," Lando said, wiping a smudge of lubricant off his burgundy cape. "But it's a long shot tracking down that band. They definitely went to Clak'dor VII, but they're on the run, and I don't want to waste precious time in case-" Jacen said, "Don't worry about us here, Lando. We've got plenty of investigating to do on Cloud City."

"Can't wait to compare notes when we get back," Jaina said.

"Hey, Em Teedee," Zekk called, tying back his long, dark hair, "did you go over our route to the Bith homeworld? We don't want to get lost on our way there."

"Why certainly, Master Zekk," the little droid said. "I checked and double-checked all of the coordinates and ran an algorithm to ensure that the navicomputer had chosen the proper course, free of any serious natural hazards. The Lady Luck and I are on very cordial terms."

"Clak'dor VII isn't a place many people go by choice," Lando said.

"I've been to more planets in this galaxy than I can name, but I don't ever remember setting foot on that world."

"The musical prowess of Bith band members is renowned throughout the New Republic," Tenel Ka said. "They travel widely, taking their entertainment talents to numerous venues. There is little reason to travel to Clak'dor VII to hear Bith music, since their bands are easily found in many fine establishments."

"Not to mention some pretty seedy ones," Zekk pointed out, remembering the Mos Eisley cantina.

"Well, I think it's mighty suspicious that they packed up in such a hurry and left Cloud City right after Cojahn vanished. We need to track down Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes and see what they can tell us."

Wisps of high-flying clouds mixed with pink and tan vapors swirled around the open dock. Holding on to anornate side strut on the Lady Luck, Jaina gazed out at the broad empty landscape of clouds and sunlight and sky.

Hearing someone approach, she turned around with surprise when her brother said, "Hey, it's Anja!"

They all glanced up to see the tall, muscular girl lounging against the docking bay door. "Yeah, I wanted to see you before you guys left."

She shrugged her tattooed shoulder. "I didn't want you all to think I was hot-tempered or anything."

Recalling the girl's outburst, Jaina raised her eyebrows. To Jaina's now-alert eye, the young woman seemed cheerful and energized, her enormous eyes bright, the pupils wide. Lando absorbed all these details with a slight nod, as if it confirmed his suspicions about Anja's use of andris spice. But he made no comment.

Lowie growled something and Em Teedee translated, completely missing the Wookiee's sarcasm. "Master Lowbacca wonders whatever could have given us that idea, Mistress Anja."

"Sometimes my... enthusiasm gets the best of me," Anja said.

"I think she's apologizing," Zekk said in a stage whisper.

Jaina shot a teasing glance at her dark-haired friend. "Let's not get carried away, now."

"Don't push it, kids," Lando warned. "She's apologized... in her own way.