The Ruins of Dantooine

by Voronica Whitney-Robinson

  “Nobody has ever said they were lucky to meet me.” And then he turned to Finn and said, “Much better company than last time. Now that you’ve brightened up an otherwise boring morning, what do you want?” There was no kindness in the question.

  “I need a favor,” Finn told him straight out. “I need a ship.”

  Nym leaned back and stroked his chin for a moment. “That’s a big favor. And what do you need a ship for?”

  “I need a ship that’ll get us as far as the Core Worlds,” Finn explained. “That’s all you really need to know.”

  Nym cast a sidelong glance at Dusque and replied, “I doubt that’s all I need to know. There’s a good story here.” Changing his tack, Nym asked Dusque, “But how the hell did you get mixed up with this gravel maggot?”

  Dusque didn’t wait for Finn to say anything. “I was in the wrong place at the right time.” And she smirked at Nym, sensing that she shouldn’t give him any ground.

  Nym grinned back and nodded his head. Facing Finn, he asked, “What do you want with a ship, anyway? It’s not like you could pilot the thing.”

  “What?” Finn sputtered, and by the look on Nym’s face, Dusque understood that for this round, Nym had won. He had flustered Finn first. “I’m a damn good pilot.”

  “Maybe a good copilot, but you’re no good on your own. It takes a special breed to fly solo,” Nym pronounced.

  Finn’s jaw had a rigid cast to it. Dusque, wondering what he was biting back on, was impressed that he wasn’t getting too wrapped up in the dance of male dominance. “Regardless of what you think, a two-person ship is what I need. And you owe me,” he added, not above using a deadly tone, too.

  “Don’t have one,” Nym grunted. He gulped down his brandy.

  “What do you mean you don’t have one? Lok is littered with wrecks. Surely you’ve got a few that are in commission?” Finn demanded with some exasperation.

  “No,” the pirate replied calmly. “None are up and running. There were some complications on our last run on the Corellian Spine. But don’t get yourself worked up.”

  “Why not?” Finn asked.

  “Just because I don’t have any ships operational doesn’t mean I can’t get you a ride. I can arrange transport for you and your lovely cargo.” He looked at Dusque. “Or you could stay here with me for a while. I could tell you a lot about my species.”

  “It’s a very tempting offer,” she said, playing along. She reached over and casually dropped her hand by the kusak, letting it sniff her. When she was sure it was comfortable, she rubbed it along its haunches. Nym and Finn were clearly amazed that the beast tolerated her touch.

  “Maybe some other time,” she offered, sounding regretful. “Right now, I have some business to finish. And I need him to do it.”

  “Another time then,” Nym agreed and winked at her. He returned his attention to Finn. “I can get you the ride, but it’ll cost you.”

  “I don’t believe you. After what happened on Dathomir, you would deny me this? And what about that little misunderstanding between you and the Gray Talon? Have you forgotten all of that?”

  Dusque caught her breath at the last one and felt her eyebrows trying to climb into her scalp with surprise.

  “What was between us then doesn’t equal what you’re asking for now. Even you should realize that,” Nym reasoned.

  “That’s it, then. Come on, Dusque. We’ll find someone else to deal with.” Finn rose to his feet and offered his hand to Dusque. She looked at Nym. The pirate had a smug expression on his large face. Dusque suspected he was the only game in town, and what was more, both he and Finn knew it.

  But those like Nym always wanted something, she thought. That was part of what drove them on. For them having was not nearly as sweet as wanting. She and Finn just needed to find out what Nym wanted.

  “It seems a shame we couldn’t do business together,” she announced.

  “Business is a different matter. I can always do business,” Nym said.

  Finn slowly returned to his chair, but not in the slumped-over posture he had adopted when they had first sat down with the pirate. Reading his body language, Dusque knew he was tense and she guessed that the meeting had taken a turn he hadn’t anticipated.

  “What do you want?” Finn asked Nym finally.

  The pirate stretched back against the naturally carved sandstone and idly scratched at his kusak’s ear. “There is something you could do …”

  “What?” Finn asked again, his irritation barely masked.

  “North of here is a small box canyon. There’s a group of corsairs camping there, and they have something that belongs to me,” he explained. “I want it.”

  “What is it?” Dusque asked.

  “A portion of a hyperspace map. I want it for my ‘collection,’ ” Nym told them. “Get it for me and I’ll see that you get to where you’re going, no questions asked.”

  “How big a camp?” Finn asked.

  Nym made a dismissive gesture with his mouth. “Three or four at the most. Easy for you.”

  Dusque knew what the next logical question should have been, but figured Finn was too smart to ask Nym why he didn’t bother to retrieve it himself. The answer was plain: the task was extremely dangerous.

  Finn shook his head slightly. “Fine, we’ll do this for you. But this is the last time, Nym,” he added in a deadly tone.

  The pirate smiled lightly, leaned his head back against the rough, unfinished wall, and closed his eyes. “Not the first time I’ve heard that. And I’m sure it won’t be the last, either.

  “Head north, over the plateau and then down into the canyon. You can’t miss their camp,” he said. “Get my map.”

  Finn nodded curtly and stood. Sensing that Nym was finished with them, Dusque rose to her feet, as well. As they started to walk toward the entrance, Nym called out to them once more.

  “Take the back door,” he told them, hooking a thumb in the direction of the passageway Dusque had noticed when they first sat down. “And feel free to help yourself to whatever supplies I’ve got laying around back there. You might need ’em.” With that, he resumed watching the dancer, who hadn’t paused through their entire conversation. They were dismissed.

  Dusque, closer to the door, opened it, but noticed that Finn moved up to stand slightly in front of her. Certain that the pirate couldn’t hear them, she whispered, “I must be important, the way you always shift yourself to cover me.”

  Finn looked at her with some surprise. “Of course you’re important.” But Dusque could almost bet that he hadn’t been aware he was doing it. She wasn’t sure what to make of him—or what she was starting to feel when she was next to him, either.

  They walked through a narrow, dimly lit passageway that emptied into what appeared to be a storeroom worthy of a small army. Along one wall was a massive collection of rifles, pistols, and bandoliers of ammunition. Another wall was covered in swords and knives, and yet another boasted an impressive collection of traps and snares. The last wall had a modest collection of clothing and armor. Dusque immediately moved there.

  She thumbed through the various pieces of armor and camouflage. She rejected a chest plate that looked too heavy: in the heat of this volcanic world, she wanted something that wouldn’t weigh her down. She found a jumpsuit of a light weave and pale color. She had just started to take her torn tunic and pants off when she sensed that she was being watched. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Finn was over by the blasters. But he wasn’t reviewing the inventory. Instead, his black eyes were riveted on her. She returned his gaze and then turned away, flustered.

  He’s done it to me again, she thought.

  She dressed rapidly, exchanging everything she originally had except her hide boots. Then she selected a pair of thin leather gloves to protect her hands and a pair of goggles brown-tinted to save her eyes from the intense glare of the sun. At the wall with the knives, she chose a light, single-arm sword. She lunged forward a few times with it, t
esting its weight and feel. The craftsmanship was superb, and she absently wondered where Nym had pilfered the weapon from. Finally she added a small knife to her boot and, feeling suitably outfitted, turned around to check on Finn.

  Obviously at some point he had stopped watching her and gone on to select a carbine rifle to add to his personal arsenal. He had also exchanged his dark cloak for a lightweight tunic and matching trousers. Twin bandoliers of ammo crisscrossed his chest, and she saw that he had chosen a pair of hide gloves, too.

  “Good idea in case there are more spined snakes, or worse,” Dusque told him. She rummaged through the clothes until she found a visor. She pitched it to him.

  Finn caught it easily enough in his hands.

  “It’ll save your eyes,” she explained, “and make some of the local wildlife easier to spot right before they strike you dead.”

  Finn tossed the visor in his hand once and looked at Dusque. “Nice,” he said, mocking her earlier words. “Biologist humor.” But he slid the visor on.

  “Let’s go,” he told her, and they stepped out into the burning heat that was midday on Lok.

  SEVEN

  “How are you doing?” Finn called back to Dusque.

  They had been running for some time now. The sun was beyond its apex, on the decline, but it was almost impossible to feel a difference in the temperature yet. The ground felt hot and dry under Dusque’s booted feet, and she was beginning to feel a burning in her muscles. But rather than succumb, she was starting to revel in the fact that her body was being tested by the bleak and foreboding landscape and she was meeting it head-on.

  For the most part, they both kept silent, for fear of alerting anything to their presence. Dusque spotted some incredible specimens of snakes and birds, not to mention some desert plants that she had never seen before. She wished there had been someone to witness it with her—someone who would have found beauty in every bit of scrub and parched plant.

  Tendau would have been amazed, she thought. When her mind drifted to the fate of the gentle Ithorian, she felt a lump form in her throat and had to blink back tears. No matter what he had done, he hadn’t deserved to die like a cur, shot dead in the streets. Even in its style of execution, the Empire had tried to strip him of his dignity. But Dusque had watched how he faced his death with courage and honor.

  I’ll make them pay for that, she vowed.

  They were heading into a canyon, Dusque realized, noticing the way the rock walls seemed to be closing in on them in from both directions. The sky was stained a rosy pink and Lok’s sun was like a flaming, molten ball just above the horizon, sinking fast. Finally, there was a subtle cooling to the burning air. In short order, she knew it would be freezing on the volcanic planet’s dark side. With the change in temperature, the daytime animals would be looking for their burrows and the night hunters gradually waking up.

  Catching sight of a rock cairn off to one side, Dusque lit upon an idea. She dropped farther behind Finn and veered over to the cairn, slowing her pace. A few meters from it, she stopped completely and pulled a wire-mesh trap from her sack. Holding it in her left hand, she slid bit by bit on the ground until she was right up against the cairn. Carefully, as though she were handling an active thermal detonator, she began to shift some of the smaller rocks until she found what she was looking for.

  Nestled in a ball against the remaining rocks for warmth was a spined viper. The cooler night air had already slowed the animal’s metabolism enough that its senses were somewhat deadened. It didn’t even notice that Dusque had removed some of its protective shelter. As she was about to reach in, she heard Finn come up behind her. Without looking away from the viper, she held up her free hand in warning to him. He stopped in his tracks, and she could see from the corner of her eye that his hand had dropped to his blaster.

  Dusque picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the lair, just in front and to the side of the viper’s head. Dulled by the lack of warmth, it struck out at the pebble much slower than it would have earlier in the day. She knew she had one shot. As it lunged forward, she thrust her leather-clad hand into the cairn and grabbed the creature by the back of the neck, careful to avoid the venomous spines along the dorsal part of its body. She yanked the reptile out quickly and stuffed it into her mesh trap without a moment to spare, not even giving Finn time to react. Certain the snake was secured, she placed the trap into her travel sack. Then she sat down and realized she was sweating slightly in the cool breeze.

  Finn dropped down near her, although she noticed he kept a slight distance and one eye on the slowly undulating pack. “Why’d you do that?” he asked. “We’re not collecting, we’re retrieving for Nym.”

  Dusque, confident that the viper was trapped and her bag was sound, slung the pack onto her back. She stood up and set off in their original direction. Over her shoulder, she tossed back, “You never know when one of these might come in handy.” He nodded, but she could see that he wasn’t entirely convinced. Still, he did seem to accept her word, and she was pleased that he trusted her judgment despite the fact that he didn’t really understand her actions.

  By the time they reached the canyon, night shrouded the land. Off in the distance, a large moon could be seen peeking over the rim of the eastern canyon wall. Silhouetted against its white glow were two objects. One was very obviously a large tent, with distinctive rooftop points stabbing into the sky. The other might have been a structure, as well, but it was somewhat smaller than the tent. The pair were close to each other, situated on the top of a plateau. It was a perfect vantage point. The occupants had a clear view in all directions, which made a covert approach almost impossible.

  Both Finn and Dusque crouched low, leaning against the canyon wall. Finn whispered into her ear, “Corsairs.”

  Dusque nodded, and now that Finn had broken the silence, she said, “Which way do you want us to go?” As soon as she said it, she realized that she already trusted his abilities enough to let him make the call.

  Finn rummaged through his smaller pack, pulled out a pair of electrobinoculars, and adjusted the range. Cupping his hands over them, he turned toward the encampment and for several moments took readings and made observations. Finally, he slid closer to Dusque and handed the binoculars to her.

  “See there?” he asked her, and guided her hands toward the direction he had been viewing. “As best as I can tell, it looks like there are two of them, and they’re drinking.”

  Through the electrobinoculars, Dusque could see two figures huddled around an outdoor fire. One was squatting near it, presumably tending the flames, and the other leaned casually against a tent pole, taking a long swig from a bottle. The only one Dusque could see clearly was the one standing up. He was one of the Nikto species. She estimated that he was almost as tall as Finn. His yellow skin and almost complete lack of brow ridges or horns told her that he was one of the M’shento’su’Nikto race that had evolved in the southern region of Kintan. Instead of fins, they had long, prominent breathing tubes along the backs of their heads. Because the species had very little musculature in their faces, they often had blank, unintelligent expressions and were sometimes mistaken for idiots or dullards. But that was far from the truth. The Nikto could be deadly in their single-mindedness.

  “I thought Nym said there were three or four,” she replied as she handed him his electrobinoculars.

  “He did,” he replied as he stuffed them back in his travel pouch. “But I was watching for some time and I didn’t see any others. You?”

  “No,” Dusque answered. “We’ll need to be extra cautious, regardless. Those Southern Nikto are able to use their breathing pipes to detect vibrations. They could hear us long before they see us.”

  “Hmm, that’s the trick then,” Finn said. “Let’s see if there’s anything that can help us there.” He pulled out the electrobinoculars and scanned the canyon. Not twenty meters from the north side of the plateau base was a small herd of very large snorbals. Dusque followed his gaze and nodde
d when she saw the herd of large herbivores, scavenging for food with their split trunks.

  “That might do it,” she agreed, “provided we can get them to go in the right direction.”

  “One thing before we go in there,” Finn told her.

  “What?” Dusque asked.

  “There is no reasoning with these pirates, you understand? We have to go in and take them out. Hesitation means death,” he explained.

  “I understand,” she told him, though she wasn’t sure she did. “But how can you be sure they’re the right ones?”

  “While Nym and I … disagree on some things, I do know he wouldn’t have sent us on a wild Bantha hunt. He sent us directly to this camp, so these are the ones. No mistakes there.”

  “I suppose …” she said nervously. “Well, I’ll follow your lead.”

  “I can’t see any other way,” he added. Dusque wondered if he had said that for the benefit of her conscience or his own.

  Finn scurried along, low to the ground, and Dusque flanked him. When they were about ten meters from the grazing herd, they split up and started to circle the animals from opposite directions. One of the snorbals picked up its head, and Dusque knew they had no time left. She waved to Finn and started to move closer to the animals without shielding too much of her approach. She saw Finn doing the same thing from the other side. One after another of the herd pricked its ears, and as a group they started to move loudly up the incline of the plateau.

  Dusque and Finn continued to steer them slowly up the plateau, toward the corsair camp. The two humans trailed behind them, using their heavy footfalls as cover. When they were fifteen meters below the camp, Finn signaled to Dusque. Together, they moved so suddenly that the animals startled and burst into a run. Dusque and Finn took advantage of the pounding stampede to sneak up to the perimeter of the camp.

  Sliding along on their bellies, they could see that the animals had had their desired effect on the renegade pirates. Both Nikto were on their feet and watching the animals cut across the plateau. As the creatures began their descent of the other side of the incline, the Nikto who had been tending the fire drew his blaster. Dusque could feel her heart pounding and her mouth going dry. She tensed, preparing to feel his laserfire. But the pirate drew a bead on the departing animals and opened fire on them instead.