Star Wars: Survivor's Quest

by Timothy Zahn

  “Just scouting ahead,” Luke assured him. “Looks like we’re going to have to cross to one of the other corridors.”

  Drask’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  Luke looked over at the housekeeper droid, still picking through the rubble. “There’s a booby trap in there,” he said. “I’d just as soon not have to take the time to disarm it. There’s another cross-corridor we can use about ten meters ahead that’ll get us back to this one.”

  “There is a trap?” Bearsh gasped. “But why would anyone wish to hurt us? We have come to honor them.”

  “Yes, but they don’t know that,” Luke said. “All we can do is try to avoid trouble until we can explain it to them.”

  “Until then, we must make certain such a meeting does in fact take place,” Drask said grimly, pulling out a comlink.

  “Wait a minute,” Fel said. “What are you doing?”

  “Summoning an escort,” Drask said. “This is no longer a matter for diplomats.”

  “We have an escort,” Fel countered. “Trust me: the Five-Oh-First can handle things.”

  “That is not sufficient,” Drask insisted. “Even if they are as good as you claim, they cannot adequately protect us all. We require a stronger force.”

  “That might not be a good idea, General,” Luke warned. “If the inhabitants are monitoring our progress, a show of that much force might be taken as a threat.”

  “He’s right,” Formbi said, not sounding particularly happy about it. “Leave the warriors in reserve for now, General Drask. We’ll retreat and use the route Master Skywalker suggests.”

  “I disagree completely,” Drask growled. But he put the comlink away without further argument. “Very well, Master Skywalker. Lead the way.”

  * * *

  The side corridors Luke had chosen weren’t any easier to navigate than the main corridor had been. There was less actual debris lying around underfoot, but the state of the bulkheads and ceiling more than made up for it. Many of the bulkheads had buckled, twisting wall plates out at crazy angles into the corridor, many of them broken and sharp-edged. Something in here must have exploded during the battle, Mara decided as the group eased gingerly past the rubble.

  It took them more than an hour to pick their way through that first 150 meters. They saw two more droids in that time, both of them housekeeping types, both of them eliciting words of amazement from the Geroons. It was clear, at least to Mara, that someone was indeed watching their progress.

  But there were no other booby traps, at least none that they were able to detect. Certainly nothing went off in the confining spaces. Perhaps, as Luke had hoped, whoever was monitoring the droids had gotten the message that their visitors had no ill intentions toward them.

  Or else they were simply preparing a more memorable reception farther in.

  As expected, once they were past the main turbolaser batteries the damage began to drop off considerably. Fifty meters after that, it became no worse than a sort of dusty clutter. “What is this place?” Bearsh asked as they passed through a large room lined with consoles and monitor displays.

  “This is the fleet tactical room,” Fel said. “In a battle, this is where this ship would coordinate combat with the rest of its companion ships.”

  “The Vagaari must have had rooms like this aboard their vessels,” one of the other Geroons said. “Larger even than this, perhaps. They had huge fleets.”

  “Yes,” Bearsh agreed, a shiver running through him. “They darkened the sky when they passed through the air of our world.”

  “This appears to be in a workable state,” Drask commented, stepping over to one of the consoles for a closer look. “Would this be a place Mitth’raw’nuruodo might have deliberately spared?”

  “It’s possible,” Fel said. “The six Dreadnaughts were presumably coordinated directly from the primary command ship, without any need for this room to even be crewed.”

  “Unless this is the command ship,” Jinzler reminded him.

  “And of course, we don’t know whether any of these consoles actually works,” Mara added, frowning as she stretched out to the Force. There seemed to be a flicker of a presence lurking somewhere ahead of them. But the sensation came and went, as if the person was appearing and then disappearing. Someone only half conscious, perhaps?

  “Might be worth trying to start them up,” Luke suggested, throwing a glance at Mara. So he’d caught the tentative contact, too. “What do you think, Commander?”

  Fel’s forehead furrowed briefly, then cleared as he caught on. “Sure, why not?” he agreed with false enthusiasm. “In fact, it might be easier to find records back here than it would on the command deck. That console you’re looking at, General—let’s see if we can get it started.”

  Drask stepped back and gestured toward the board. “Go ahead.”

  “Right,” Fel said, pulling out the chair and sitting down. “Let’s see now. . .” Tentatively, he keyed a few switches. The console beeped twice, and a few of its indicators came reluctantly to life. “Okay. Let’s try this. . .”

  Luke, Mara noted, was already gone. She waited until the entire group was watching Fel, then slipped out after him.

  He was waiting for her just outside the tactical room. “You felt her, too?” he asked quietly.

  Her? Mara’s mind flashed back to Jinzler’s story about his sister. “I felt something, but it kept coming and going,” she said. “You think it’s a woman?”

  “A girl, actually,” he said. “Too young to be Lorana. Sorry.”

  “Well, it was a long shot,” Mara conceded, trying not to feel too disappointed. “Let’s see if we can find her before we’re missed.”

  “Too late,” a voice murmured darkly from behind her.

  She glanced at Luke, caught his grimace. “Hello, General,” she said as she turned around.

  Drask was standing alone in the corridor, his posture stiff. “You must think we are fools,” he bit out. “You and Commander Fel both. Do you really think the Chiss can be so easily deceived in the same way twice?”

  “Forgive us,” Luke said, bowing to him. “We were merely concerned for your safety.”

  “I do not need my safely guarded,” Drask countered. “I do not know how you humans do such things, but Chiss leaders do not merely sit behind the young warriors and watch them fight.”

  “I understand,” Luke said. “Perhaps I misspoke. I meant we were concerned for the Aristocra’s safety.”

  “Better,” Drask rumbled. “But be advised: this is still a Chiss vessel, and you will not again move ahead of me.”

  “Understood,” Luke said. “Again, our apologies.”

  “Very well.” Drask glanced back over his shoulder. “Then let us continue before the others notice our absence.”

  They had gone perhaps ten meters when the wisp of sensation again touched Mara’s mind. Luke had been right: it was definitely female. “She’s just ahead,” she warned Luke, peering at the equipment and occasional piles of debris as she tried to pin down the girl’s location. Five meters ahead, the corridor opened into a large room with its door frozen partially open, and she could see more of the same type of consoles as they’d found in the tactical room.

  “She must be in the sensor room,” Luke said, pointing toward the frozen door. “You want to hang back while General Drask and I check it out?”

  Mara bit back a retort. Obviously, Luke was being diplomatic. “Sounds good,” she said. Stepping to the side, she planted her back against the corridor wall. Luke and Drask continued forward, the general’s hand resting on the charric belted at his waist. They stepped to the sensor room door and Luke ducked down and started to ease his way beneath it—

  “Are you Jedi?” a soft voice asked from behind Mara.

  Mara spun around, old combat reflexes flaring as her hand automatically went to her lightsaber. The girl standing quietly in the corridor was no older than ten, plainly but neatly dressed, her dark auburn hair glistening in the light. She wa
s looking at Mara with bright, unblinking blue eyes.

  Standing in the corridor behind Mara. How in blazes had she managed that?

  Mara found her voice. “Yes, we are,” she told the girl. “We’re here to help you.”

  “Oh,” the girl said. For a moment she seemed to study Mara, an uncertain look on her face. Then she shifted her gaze to Drask and Luke, eyeing her in turn as they stood together by the sensor room door. “And a Blue One,” she went on. “Are you here to hurt us?”

  “No one will hurt you,” Drask assured her. “As the Jedi said, we are here to help.”

  “Oh,” the girl said, her voice completely matter-of-fact. “Well, you can tell him that.” She gestured to an alcove just behind her. “He’s waiting for you.”

  “We’ll look forward to seeing him,” Luke said, wondering who she was talking about. The survivors’ leader, perhaps? “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Evlyn,” she said. “Will you follow me, please?”

  “We must first alert the others of our group,” Drask added, pulling out his comlink.

  “They’ll be all right,” Evlyn assured him as she stepped into the alcove. “They’ll be brought through right behind us.”

  She touched a control. The wall blocking the far end of the alcove slid smoothly up into the ceiling, revealing a short corridor with another door at the far end. “Come on,” she invited, stepping inside and heading for the door in the opposite wall.

  Mara frowned. Aside from the door at the far end and another one midway along the left-hand wall, the corridor was completely bare. A security transit, perhaps, with hidden sensors that would allow whoever was beyond to get a close look at prospective visitors?

  Possibly. It could also be another booby trap.

  Still, unless the rest of the survivors were prepared to sacrifice the girl, it ought to be safe enough. Provided, of course, she and the others got inside with the girl before she disappeared through the far door.

  Again, Luke’s thoughts were mirroring hers. “Mara, you and the general had better stay here,” he said as he stepped into the corridor behind Evlyn, taking long strides as he tried to catch up without looking too obvious about it. “He can call back and alert the rest of the party.”

  “No,” Drask insisted, brushing past Luke in turn and striding into the corridor ahead of him. “You do not go ahead alone.”

  Evlyn had reached the far end and was reaching for a small control panel set into the wall beside the door. Mara hesitated, stretching out to the Force, trying to reach back to Formbi’s group behind them. There was no fear or sudden surprise back there that she could detect.

  Abruptly, she made up her mind. If this whole thing was legitimate, it wouldn’t hurt to be separated from the others for a few minutes, especially with Fel and the 501st there to guard them. If it was a trap, two Jedi always had a better chance than one. “We can call them on the way,” she decided, stepping in behind Drask.

  She was just in time. Even as she ducked beneath the door, it slid down behind her. “Hurry,” Evlyn said, beckoning them forward. Mara took a long step to catch up to Luke—

  She caught the warning flicker an instant before it happened. But it was too late. Even as she and Luke grabbed for their lightsabers, two doors abruptly slammed down from the ceiling, one in front of Drask, the other behind Mara, cutting the corridor into thirds and trapping them in the center section.

  With a lurch, the floor dropped out from under them.

  CHAPTER 12

  “Jedi!” Drask bellowed, making the word a curse. “Do something!”

  But for that first terrifying second there was nothing either of them could do. Luke fought for balance, feeling Mara’s chagrin mixing with his own. The room kept falling, far faster than the planetoid’s own weak gravity could possibly have pulled it. Too late, now, he realized they’d been decoyed into a disguised turbolift car.

  Then, so unexpectedly and abruptly that he nearly fell over, the car braked to a halt.

  “Good day, Jedi.” The disembodied voice came from the control panel beside the side door. “Good day, Blue One.”

  “We are called Chiss,” Drask corrected the voice tartly.

  “Ah,” the voice said. “Good day, then, Chiss. I’m Jorad Pressor, Guardian of the People.”

  “Interesting way you have of greeting peaceful visitors,” Mara commented. “You at least going to come out where we can talk face to face?”

  “Whom I deal with is my decision, not yours,” Pressor said. “For the moment, that’s not going to be you.”

  “For a very short moment,” Mara countered. “Or do you really expect this box to hold us for long?”

  “Long enough,” Pressor assured her. “Let me explain. The reason you’ve stopped moving is that your turbolift car is currently sitting at a gravity eddy point being balanced by two equal and opposite focused repulsor beams. If either of them is cut off, you’ll be instantly shot through the tube to smash into either the Dreadnaught you just left or the Dreadnaught you were intending to travel to. Either way, it will be very messy.”

  “For your vessel as well as for us,” Drask warned. “Such an impact may do serious damage to your structural integrity.”

  “I don’t think so,” Pressor said. “Of course, none of you would ever know for certain.”

  “True,” Luke conceded. “I presume there’s more?”

  “I know about Jedi lightsabers,” Pressor said. “I know you could normally cut your way out of the car with ease. In this case, however, I’d strongly advise against trying it. The power and control cables for both repulsor beams are wrapped in random patterns around the car. Cut any of the wires, upsetting the balance of forces, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

  Luke looked at Mara. “You’ve spent a lot of time thinking this out,” he said. “Have you had a lot of Jedi visitors in the past fifty years?”

  “We haven’t had any visitors at all,” Pressor said, his voice suddenly cold and bitter. “But I’ve always known that someday the Republic would send someone to hunt us down. It seemed only prudent to take precautions.”

  Luke shook his head. “You’ve got it all wrong,” he said, putting all the persuasion he could into his voice. “We’re not here for revenge or retribution or whatever. We’re—”

  “Don’t bother trying to communicate with the rest of your people, either,” Pressor interrupted him. “All comlink frequencies are being jammed. Make yourselves comfortable, and cultivate that renowned Jedi patience.”

  There was a click, and the voice was gone.

  “Interesting,” Drask commented, turning to face Luke. “Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano has often stated that the Jedi are honored and admired by all. Apparently, he was mistaken.”

  “Very much mistaken,” Luke agreed, looking slowly around the car. Up close, the walls appeared to be solid metal, with no signs of tampering. If their captors were monitoring them, the holocams and voice pickups had to either be hidden in the control board or else buried in the line where the walls and ceiling met, where numerous age cracks had opened up in the metal. “There are any number of people who don’t like Jedi,” he continued, lifting his eyebrows at Mara. She nodded to the control panel, then put her hands together in a right angle.

  So she’d come to the same conclusion he had. Nodding back, Luke slipped off his emergency-kit backpack and popped it open.

  Mara picked up the explanation: “Of course, most of them are criminals or warmongers.” She had her own backpack off now, her fingers sorting through the contents. “Jedi are supposed to keep the peace, so of course those groups hate us.”

  “Corrupt politicians don’t like us much, either,” Luke added, digging beneath the ration bars and water tubes and pulling out his liquid-cable dispenser. Mara was already ready with her contribution: her medpac’s tube of synthflesh wound healer. “I wonder which category Pressor falls into.”

  “Maybe none of them,” Mara said. Stepping to a corner o
f the room, she began laying a thin bead of the synthflesh into the line between ceiling and wall. “Maybe he just doesn’t think talking to us would get him anywhere.”

  “Maybe,” Luke said, coming up beside his wife and playing out an equally thin line of liquid cable on top of the synthflesh before it could solidify. “Not here in Chiss space, anyway.”

  “If they even know where they are,” Mara said. “Maybe once we’ve persuaded them we’re here to help we can all sit down together and hear the whole story.”

  An uncomfortable silence descended on the car. Mara reached the corner and continued on along the next wall, Luke right beside her. Liquid cable, which solidified instantly on contact with the air, was designed specifically not to be sticky so that it wouldn’t hang up on anything as it was being extruded. The synthflesh, on the other hand, was designed just as specifically to stick solidly to wounds, protecting them from the air and further injury. Together, they made a perfect barrier against the age cracks and anything that might be hidden behind them.

  Once they finished with the walls, it would be a simple matter to block the view from the control panel with one of their all-temperature cloaks. If Pressor didn’t interfere, they should be finished in a few minutes.

  Pressor didn’t, and they were. “There,” Luke said at last, stepping back to admire their handiwork. “That should at least keep them from watching us.”

  “A useful start,” Drask said, his tone neutral. Clearly, he wasn’t all that impressed. “Yet we are still inside. What now?”

  “Now,” Luke said, smiling tightly at Mara, “you’ll get to see how Jedi do things.”

  * * *

  From somewhere ahead came a distant clunk. “What was that?” Feesa asked, looking up.

  “Machinery,” Grappler said, lifting his BlasTech and taking a step toward the passageway Luke and Mara had disappeared down a few minutes earlier. “Possibly a door sealing.”

  “The Skywalkers!” Jinzler said sharply, looking around. “They’re gone!”

  “It’s all right, Ambassador,” Formbi said calmly. “They went with General Drask to scout ahead.” He peered in that direction. “It’s time we joined them.”