He’s doomed! thought Boba.
But the Padawan had other plans. Just as the plasma bursts approached it, he arrowed his starfighter to one side. The energy bolts continued onward, up, up, up through Xagobah’s violet sky—
And found another target—the ramship!
“Whoa!” Boba whooped.
An immense starburst of pure energy like a thunderbolt surged out from where the ramship had been. Boba tensed, waiting for fallout; but none came. The energy stored in the ramship was so dense and powerful that the explosion caused it to self-implode.
Score one for the Republic!
Quickly, Boba scrambled between the fallen spider droid’s legs. He stared out at the battlefield. For a moment, everything had come to a standstill. Battle droids and clones alike gazed up at the waves of energy rippling through Xagobah’s atmosphere—violet, scarlet, gold.
“Very pretty,” muttered Boba. He glanced at the entrance to Mazariyan. He couldn’t believe it.
No droids were there!
Boba looked around again. And yes, battle droids and sentry droids alike all seemed distracted. This was the moment Glynn-Beti had foretold!
It’s the energy surge! Boba realized. It’s momentarily scrambled their command centers.
This was his chance!
Staying as low as he could, Boba darted from the shelter of the spider droid. He raced toward the fortress, breathing hard. The entry to Mazariyan gaped, faintly gleaming. Just a few more meters and he was there. None of the clone troopers would make it in time; they were still too far off.
Boba paused, hand on his blaster. Behind him, the sounds of battle began once more. In front of him was a problem: The maw of Wat Tambor’s citadel opened onto the Separatist’s stronghold—and blades of purple fungus ringed the entrance like razor teeth. Rows of spines stuck out threateningly, ready to pierce any intruder. He recalled what Xeran had told him and suddenly Boba understood.
Wat Tambor had perverted Xagobah’s fungus to his own ends—inside his citadel.
I have to get in there, Boba thought desperately. But how?
Boba shoved his blaster into his belt. He drew his vibroshiv.
No, he thought, and reluctantly replaced it. That will just make it worse.
Boba’s hand moved from his belt. That was when he felt something in his pocket. Something round.
And suddenly Boba remembered.
Xeran’s spore-globe.
What was it Xeran had said?
“If you have need of camoflage, crush this.”
Boba pulled the globe from his pocket. He stared at the purple sphere in the palm of his hand.
It looked harmless. And Xeran had said it was harmless—to Boba. But he had also said the spores acted as chemical messengers. Could they somehow damage the citadel?
Well, here goes nothing!
Boba glared up at the massive structure. Then he raised his hand, and, hoping this wasn’t a mistake, he crushed the globe.
It was like the energy surge that had destroyed the ramship. Only this surge was darkest purple and smelled faintly of spices.
And it was, somehow, sentient. Boba watched in awe as a vast spore-cloud enveloped the base of the fortress. The cloud moved like a gigantic paramecium. And as it did, the spines nearest to Boba drooped. As Boba stared, fascinated, he saw more metallic spines struggling to emerge.
But for the moment the spore-cloud was stronger. The spines withered. New ones wriggled helplessly, then seemed to melt away. But more kept coming, needle-sharp, and Boba quickly realized that the spores were just a temporary solution. And whatever camoflage they offered would be temporary, too.
Now! he thought, and turned back to the entrance. Sure enough, the rows of spines had withered. They hung in limp black ribbons around the opening. Boba lunged forward, head down. Around him the spore-cloud was already starting to disperse.
If I can just get inside…
Tiny spines began to poke through the entryway. Tiny razor-sharp petals thrust from the edges of the opening. Boba grabbed his vibroshiv and slashed at them. Then, with one last desperate lunge, he leaped forward. Metallic strands of fungus slashed at his helmet. Writhing silvery vines slithered from the entryway—
Too late!
With a gasp, Boba’s feet connected with the ground. He staggered forward into a murky purplish tunnel, heedless of the spikes behind him. Beneath his boots the floor trembled like kallil-virus jelly. From the curved durasteel walls, pale silvery fronds and stems waved like dead fingers. There was a smell of scorched metal—and a faint, ceaseless thrum as if some unimaginably vast machine heart was beating somewhere out of sight.
Boba took a deep breath. Then, with every bit of courage he could command, he stepped forward—
Into the citadel of Wat Tambor.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It took several minutes for Boba’s eyes to adjust to the dimness.
Yet it was not completely dark. An eerie greenish haze hung over everything. Glowing orbs appeared to be set into the fortress’s curved, metallic walls. When Boba drew close to one, he saw that it was not an orb, but a mushroom—a luminous mushroom. Wat Tambor had bioengeneered the fungus to merge with metal and plasteel circuitry. Phosphorescent bacteria made it gleam. When Boba touched it, glowing pale green slime stuck to his glove.
“Ugh.” Hastily Boba wiped it off. He didn’t want to be any more noticeable than he already was!
He began walking down the hallway. The walls were smooth and metallic and curved, as was the ceiling. They were covered by a film of squishy, violet fungus that squelched beneath his feet. But there were other things in the walls, too. Blinking chips and miniature monitors, shining crimson threads of circuitry like blood vessels.
Wat Tambor’s genius had not been content with changing the malvil-trees’ genetic code. He had developed all kinds of nanotechnology. This had enabled him to fuse computer intelligence into the fungus citadel as well.
Yet the monitors did not seem to be alert to Boba’s presence. He stopped in front of one, holding his breath: nothing.
The power surge from the ramship blast must have scrambled their circuits, he thought. But that won’t last long…better hurry!
Boba moved as quickly and stealthily as he could. He watched for droids but saw none. Now and then another curving passage would join the central tunnel. Boba peered down these.
What he saw made him content to stay in the main passage. The walls in those tunnels had strange, lumpy shapes in them. Shapes that sometimes moved or kicked or flailed. Boba wasn’t certain what they were.
But he had a pretty good idea—he remembered the last ARC troopers Glynn-Beti had spoken of.
And Xeran’s people—the Xamsters who had struggled against the evil Separatist. Boba gritted his teeth. He thought of the gentle malvil-trees. He thought of the gentle Xeran, forced to take up arms against Wat Tambor. Boba’s hatred of Wat Tambor grew. I will show no mercy, he thought fiercely. Xeran’s people can no longer avenge themselves. I will take vengeance for them!
And, of course, I’ll get Jabba’s bounty, too.
The passage began to climb slowly upward. As it did, it curved, as though Boba were climbing some gigantic spiral staircase. He passed shimmering walls where monitors flickered yellow and green and red. He passed a room like the hollow chamber of a human heart, pulsing slowly in and out. He passed tube-shaped openings that gave him a fragmented view of the battle below.
But he passed no droids. He passed no clones. As far as Boba could tell, he was the only thing that walked inside of Mazariyan.
And that made him nervous.
Could Wat Tambor have left? Could he have somehow escaped before Boba arrived here to capture him?
Boba frowned. I sure hope not.
Things had been bad enough outside, with the citadel under siege. He suspected they could get much worse if he was found inside by Wat Tambor’s troops—or the Republic’s.
He continued his journey, in and up.
The air grew thick and heavy. Boba made sure his helmet’s intake filter was working. He thought of the violet haze of spores that surrounded this planet. He could only imagine what kind of disgusting, protective spores were produced inside Mazariyan.
Sometimes an unpleasant thought would work its way through Boba like a splinter.
What if I never find him? What if I can’t find my way out?
He was working on pure intuition now. The curved passage seemed to spiral endlessly up into the fortress. Sometimes it would branch. When that happened, Boba would choose one way or another, on instinct.
He came to another place where the tunnel divided. To his left, it curved upward, its smooth walls gleaming purple. To Boba’s right, the passage curved slightly downward. Here the tunnel had a deeper glow, almost indigo.
Wonder what that means? thought Boba.
For a moment he paused, thinking. Then he placed his hand on his blaster, and walked boldly into the right-hand passage.
He hoped he’d made the right choice.
Up until now he had—but not anymore.
Boba didn’t know it yet. But his good fortune was about to dissipate like the malvil’s spores.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The air here was warmer; so deep and dark a blue it was almost black. Boba didn’t want to risk shining a light in the tunnel. He adjusted the infrared on his helmet, but that seemed to make it worse. So he moved very slowly, feeling his way. His gloved hands stuck to the slick walls. The soft, dank floor sucked at his boots. Worse, the faint thrumming sound was louder here. He could feel the floor vibrating under his feet. Ahead of him, the tunnel’s walls grew uneven. As Boba drew closer, he quickly yanked his hand away.
Flabby, pale, fingerlike growths extended from the wall’s surface. As Boba stared, they wriggled like the tendrils of a Bestine sea anemone. The tendrils were dark purple. Their tips were crimson.
“The Xabar fungus!” Boba exclaimed, recoiling. He remembered Xeran’s warning: The tentacles released a paralyzing toxin.
“Who goessss there?”
A hissing voice slashed through the air. Boba looked up sharply.
“Stranger—identify yourself!”
Boba felt his stomach clench—but not with fear. Anger had been building inside him ever since he entered the fortress.
Now it boiled over.
A shadowy figure stood before him. Tall, with greenish skin, cold deep-set eyes, a lipless mouth. Even in the indigo darkness Boba recognized him.
The Clawdite, Nuri!
It had been two years since Boba had last seen him. That was on Aargau. The shapeshifter had been smaller then. So had Boba.
But Boba was definitely bigger now—bigger, and stronger, and heavily armed. And this Clawdite had betrayed Boba. Boba had trusted him. In return, the shapeshifter had stolen what remained of his father’s fortune.
“Nuri,” Boba said in a low, controlled voice. He saw the Clawdite’s eyes narrow. “You owe me.”
“Owe you?” The Clawdite did not recognize him. His gaze shifted uncertainly from Boba to the passage behind him.
“That’s right,” said Boba. He drew his vibroshiv.
He lunged for the shapeshifter. As he did, Nuri’s form seemed to melt. His neck grew longer and longer. His arms and legs shrank into nothingness. His head narrowed. Long, knife-sharp teeth filled his mouth. Feathered scales covered his body. Where the Clawdite had been, a huge arrak snake drew back to strike. Its glittering green eyes fixed on Boba. Then, hissing furiously, it wrapped its coils around him.
“Not so fast!” Boba yelled. He struggled against the thick, powerful serpentine shape. The arrak snake’s coils began to tighten. Boba fought for breath. His vibroshiv fought to discover some weak spot in the snake’s scaly armor—
And found it! Just beneath the snake’s fanged jaw there was a patch of flesh unprotected by scales. Boba plunged the vibroshiv there—when once again the shapeshifter’s form changed!
In place of the arrak snake was a copper-colored dinko. It had crushing jaws, and pointed talons the length of Boba’s arm. Its jaws snapped at Boba. When he kicked back at it, a foul-smelling spray squirted from the dinko.
“Ugh!” Boba staggered backward. For a moment even his Mandalorian helmet was no help—the fumes choked him. Then his secondary filters kicked in. Coughing and shaking, Boba struck back. The dinko snarled, lashing at him with one long, pointed talon. Boba’s hand fumbled for his blaster. He grabbed the weapon and was just raising it to fire, when the dinko abruptly faded.
Going, going…gone.
“Hey—!”
Boba blinked, trying to find whatever the shapeshifter had become. And saw a giant fefze beetle, the same color as the walls. It crawled through the toxic Xabar fungus. Then it scuttled into the shadows.
“No!” Boba shouted and lunged after the escaping insect. But he could barely see it in the darkness. Desperately he took aim with his blaster.
No, wait—Boba shook his head. That’s what he wants! If I fire, I’ll alert everyone in the fortress—assuming there’s someone here!
He shoved his weapon back onto his belt. He could just make out the beetle skittering down the tunnel. Boba took a step back, then took a running leap. As he flew through the air he leaned forward, keeping the black shape in sight.
Uuumph!
With a grunt Boba fell. The slimy floor beneath him shuddered. His hand grasped at darkness for the beetle—
And got it!
“You’re not going anywhere!”
This time Boba kept a firm hold on the slick scales. Moments later he was grappling with the full-grown Clawdite.
“Don’t forget, I have this,” Boba hissed. His vibroshiv suddenly hovered inches above Nuri’s neck. He felt the shapeshifter slump in defeat.
“That’s better.” Boba stared coldly at Nuri. The Clawdite glared back at him. “Now—I need an answer. Fast. Where is Wat Tambor?”
Nuri bared his teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Boba drew the vibroshiv to within a hairbreadth of Nuri’s flesh. “Do you want to feel how much closer this can get?” he whispered menacingly. “I know who you are, Nuri. I know you helped the Techno Union spring Wat Tambor from prison. Now I want to know—where is he?”
The Clawdite hissed. Its evil eyes glittered. It stared at Boba’s vibroshiv. Then it drew a long shuddering breath.
“That way—” Nuri’s head twitched, indicating the passage leading down. “The central chamber. He’s there.”
“Is he well-guarded?”
Nuri’s eyes fixed on Boba. The vibroshiv hummed above the Clawdite’s neck.
“No,” said the shapeshifter reluctantly. “He sent the last of his droid forces to join battle with the Republic. But Grievous is coming—and he will bring reinforcements.”
“Grievous?” Boba frowned. “Who’s that?”
“The General.” The Clawdite stared at him with hatred. A slow, nasty smile spread across his face. “Whoever you are, I can see that you are working alone. The Republic will not come to your aid. You will meet General Grievous soon enough, stranger—and when you do, he will destroy you!”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Boba snarled in rage. “Those were your last words, Clawdite!”
He began to press the vibroshiv against the shapeshifter’s jugular vein. Then he stopped.
If Nuri’s body is found, Wat Tambor will know there’s an intruder inside his fortress. But if I let him go, he’ll sound the alert….
Boba looked around the dim tunnel. His gaze lit on a clump of the paralyzing Xabar fungus.
That’s it!
He began to drag the Clawdite toward the fungus. Nuri fought furiously. But Boba was stronger.
“I’ve been really curious about how this stuff works,” he said. He pinned the Clawdite to the ground, then grabbed the shapeshifter’s arm. “Now I can find out.”
Nuri struggled as Boba pushed his arm down. Sensing p
rey, the Xabar’s tentacles reached upward, wriggling in anticipation.
Closer…closer…
The Clawdite’s hand hung above fungus. Then, like pale, grasping fingers, the tentacles grabbed him.
“Unnnhhh…!”
Abruptly the Clawdite went slack. He hung, dead weight, from Boba’s hands. Boba recoiled, worried that the toxin might somehow reach him.
“Nuri?” he said in a low voice. “Nuri?”
The Clawdite sprawled before him. He looked dead. He had no pulse. He was not breathing. His eyes stared upward, blank and cold as stone. When Boba gingerly touched his arm, it felt stiff.
“Well,” Boba said, scrambling back to his feet. He gazed at the fallen Clawdite lying beside the Xabar fungus. If anyone found him, they would assume he had accidentally stumbled upon the paralyzing mushroom. “I hope that stuff works for a good long time. Long enough to get me to Wat Tambor, at least.”
He began to run down the passage. It was noticeably warmer here. And there were more signs of Wat Tambor’s technological genius.
Ribbons of circuitry gleamed along the tunnel’s soft, slimy walls. Phosphorescent globes hung alongside shining plasteel tubes that crackled with electricity. Computer monitors the size of Boba’s thumb blinked like crimson eyes. Xabar fungus sprouted from discarded bits of droids like hair.
And always there was that steady, powerful thrumming, like the beating of a massive heart.
Boba tried not to think about that too much. He didn’t like to imagine what kind of creature would have a heart that size.
Ahead of him the deep-blue glow of the tunnel began to brighten. Now it was hard to see the walls of the passage behind all the layers of metal and computer circuitry. The tunnel turned, and turned again. Boba’s steps slowed. He crept alongside the wall, eyes fixed on what was before him.
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