Star Wars - Black Fleet Crisis - Shield Of Lies Read online

  The Black Fleet Crisis [049-5.0]

  Book Two

  SHIELD OF LIES

  Michael P. Kube-McDowell

  Synopsis

  In the blockbuster bestselling tradition of Heir to the Empire comes

  this thrilling addition to the Star Wars saga, as peace gives way to a

  dire new threat...

  BANTAM BOOKS NEW YORK TORONTO LONDON SYDNEY AUCKLAND

  Dedication

  For Matt, Amanda, and Gwen, in gratitude for their love, support, and

  understanding.

  And for all the twelve-year-olds everywhere and any when who, like me,

  believed they would journey into space someday--most especially for

  those who really did, and for those who still believe.

  Acknowledgments

  The STAR WARS universe has been so greatly expanded and enriched in the

  years since Return of the Jedi appeared that even the best-intentioned

  of us can hardly hope to master all its details unaided.

  I'm therefore grateful for the assistance of the many writers and fans

  in the extended STAR WARS community online---on Genie, CompuServe, and

  the Internet--who took the time to answer (and even undertook to

  research) my questions. In particular, Kevin J. Anderson, Roger

  MacBride Allen, Matt Hart, Robert A. Cash-man, Laurie Burns, Jim

  Fisher, Cathy Bowden, Tim O'Brien, Wm. Paul Sudlow, and Steve Ozmanski

  each added at least one page of helpful facts to my reference binder

  this time around.

  Other invaluable references included Bill Slavicsek's A Guide to the

  Star Wars Universe, Shane Johnson's Star Wars Technical Journal, Dan

  Wallace's planet research, and the various time lines, lexicons, and

  concordances provided me by Sue Rostoni of Lucasfilm, Ltd., and Tom

  Dupree at Bantam.

  Once again, I owe a great debt of thanks to my family and first

  readers, all of whom made sacrifices so that I could devote my time and

  attention to this project.

  Without Gwen, Matt, Amanda, Arlyn, and Rod aiding and abetting the

  effort, this book would still be a wc in progress, and my editor and

  agent would have even more gray hair than I've already given them.

  Finally, I remain grateful to George Lucas for givi me a chance to add

  a few pages to the continuing saga the STAR WARS universe. It's been a

  pleasure and privilege to serve as a de facto historian for the

  maturing New Republic and biographer for some of its legendary

  figures.

  --Michael Paul McDowel; February 6, 1996

  Okemos, Michigan

  Dramatis Personae

  On Coruscant, capital of the New Republic

  Princess Leia Organa Solo, president of the Senate and chief of state

  of the New Republic

  Alole, aide to Leia

  General Han Solo, on detached duty

  Admiral Hiram Drayson, chief of Alpha Blue

  General Carlist Rieekan, head of New Republic Intelligence

  First Administrator Nanaod Engh, administrative director of the New

  Republic

  Senator Behn-Kihl-Nahm, chairman of the Defense Council and friend and

  mentor to Leia

  Senator Tolik Yar of Oolidi

  Senator Tig Peramis of Walalla

  Senator Cion Marook of Hrasskis

  Ayddar Nylykerka, chief analyst for the Asset Tracking Office, Fleet

  Intelligence

  Plat Mallar, sole survivor of the Yevethan raid on Polneye

  Belezaboth Ourn, extraordinary consul of the Paqwepori

  With the Fifth Battle Group of the New Republic Defense Fleet, in

  Farlax Sector

  General Etahn A'baht, Fleet commander

  Captain Morano, commander of the Fifth Fleet flagship Intrepid

  Esege "Tuke" Tuketu, K-wing bomber pilot

  With the Teljkon Task Force

  General Lando Calrissian, Fleet liaison to the expedition

  Lobot, chief administrator of Cloud City, on vacation

  See-Threepio, protocol droid

  Artoo-Detoo, astromech droid

  Colonel Pakkpekatt, expedition commander, New Republic Intelligence

  Captain Bijo Hammax, foray commander

  On N'zotb, spawnworld of the Yevetha, in the Koor-nacbt Cluster, Farlax

  Sector

  Nil Spaar, viceroy of the Yevethan Protectorate

  Eri Palle, aide to Nil Spaar Vor Duull, proctor of information science

  for the viceroy Outbound from Lucazec in the skiff Mud Sloth

  Luke Skywalker, a Jedi Master

  Akanah, an adept of the White Current On Kashyyyk, homeworld of the

  Wookiees

  Chewbacca, attending coming-of-age ceremonies for his son Lumpawarump

  Lando

  Chapter 1

  The Teljkon vagabond was on the run once more.

  But this time, there were hitchhikers aboard.

  "Hyperspace?" See-Threepio echoed in a dismayed tone as he struggled

  to free himself. The droid's limbs were tangled up with Lobot, R2-D2,

  and the equipment sled in one corner of the vagabond's air-lock--a

  chamber that had suddenly become a spacegoing prison. "You must be

  mistaken, Master Lobot."

  "I am not mistaken," said Lobot, pushing a flailing golden leg away

  from his faceplate. "All my data links terminated at the same moment,

  in exactly the same manner I associate with a hyperspace jump."

  "There was a course change, too, during the acceleration," Lando said

  from the opposite corner of the lock.

  He flexed his ungloved right hand, trying to drive the bone-chilling

  cold from his aching fingers.

  "Master Lando!" See-Threepio cried in his most plaintive voice.

  "Can't you make it stop?"

  "I didn't make it start, Threepio," Lando snapped.

  "With all respect, Master Lando, you most certainly did," Threepio said

  huffily. "Now, you just reach back in that hole and undo whatever you

  did, and quickly, too. Colonel Pakkpekatt will be most upset with us

  for running off with his starship."

  "Colonel Pakkpekatt is probably inventing new words in Hortek right

  now," said Lando. "But at least he's on a ship that he can boss.

  We're not. Any damage over there? Lobot? Artoo-Detoo?"

  The little astromech droid emerged from the jumble of bodies and

  chirped once.

  "Artoo-Detoo reports that all his systems are operational," said

  Threepio.

  "I'm uninjured, Lando," said Lobot. "My suit took the impact of the

  equipment sled. But my data links are still all down, and I am finding

  it disorienting."

  Lando nodded. "Artoo, can you help Lobot out?"

  Rotating in midair with the aid of its microthrust-ers, the droid

  chittered disagreeably.

  "Don't be rude," Threepio chided.

  "What's going on?"

  "Master Lando, Artoo says that he prefers to keep his systems

  private."

  "Yeah, well, I don't like telepaths, either, Artoo," said Lando. "But

  I'd sure like to be able to think at the colonel right now. Give Lobot

  a link to your event log.
r />   There might be something in there we can use to figure out what

  happened. Does anyone see my right glove?"

  Lobot was clinging with one hand to the equipment sled. "I think your

  glove blew out the airlock in the decompression."

  "Just perfect." Lando looked at his purpled hand, then at the inflated

  wrist cuff that was keeping his suit sealed. "What's the pressure in

  here now?"

  "Six hundred forty millibars," said Lobot. "Repressurization began

  after the entry sealed."

  "Repressurization? That's interesting. From where?" Lando craned his

  head and looked at the seamless, featureless bulkheads. "Artoo, see if

  you can find the vents."

  The droid acknowledged the order with a beep and rose to begin cruising

  along the bulkheads at close range.

  "All right--here's the way it looks to me," said Lando. "We're no

  longer invited guests and welcome visitors.

  She shook off Lady Luck and tried to spit us out.

  Probably would have succeeded if she hadn't been trying to run away

  from the task force at the same time."

  "Which raises a question," said Lobot. "Why didn't she know?"

  "I'm listening."

  "It appears to be a misjudgment. Two defense routines were activated

  without consideration of their combined effect. The repressurization

  of this compartment appears to be another inconsistency."

  "Do you have an explanation?"

  "These events suggest to me that the ship is either under the control

  of systems with limited intelligence, or under the control of beings

  with limited intelligence."

  When he saw Lando's expression, Lobot added, "At this point, it's not

  possible to distinguish between those possibilities."

  "Maybe if we figure that out, we'll know something that can help us get

  on top here," said Lando. "I'm sure of this much--that lock closed

  because of the jump, not as any favor to us. We're not wanted here.

  And if we're not clear of this compartment by the time the vagabond

  leaves hyperspace, I don't think too much of our chances."

  "Master Lando, I am certain Colonel Pakkpekatt and the armada are

  pursuing us," said Threepio. "The sooner we leave hyperspace, the

  sooner they can rescue US."

  "Yeah, they're going to be looking for us," said Lando. "But finding

  us--we could pop out five light-years from where we were, or fifty, or

  five hundred. And normal evasive tactics would call for an immediate

  course change, then another jump. Once that happens, you might as well

  be playing hide-and-seek with the Ewoks on Endor."

  "But, Master Lando---there must be some way they can rescue us. Surely

  they wouldn't abandon us. If they do not come for us, we are all

  doomed to perish as prisoners, lost in space--" "Threepio, we can't

  afford to wait for them."

  Lando tapped his faceplate to remind the droid why.

  "The chrono's already moving. Lobot and I could be dead before this

  ship even decides to leave hyperspace.

  That's why we have to act now. We can't count on any help from the

  armada, unless we can figure out some way to give them some help

  finding us first. Until then, we're on our own."

  Threepio raised his arms and his voice together.

  "We apologize," he called to the ship. "Please, believe me, I never

  meant to harm anyone--" "Shut up, Threepio."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Lando," said Lobot.

  "What?"

  "It couldn't hurt," said Lobot. "Someone might be listening."

  Lando frowned. "As far as this ship is concerned, we're pirates,

  burglars, tomb-robbers, or worse. Not too likely they'll forget that

  ju st because we suddenly develop better manners after breaking down the

  front door."

  "The probability of success may be low," said Lobot. "But diplomatic

  words are the tool Threepio is best equipped to wield. And perhaps an

  apology will prove to be the key that will open the next door."

  Sighing, Lando waved his gloved hand toward See-Threepio.

  "All right. But, Threepio, a little dignity, please."

  "Of course, Master Lando," the droid said, a hint of defensiveness in

  his tone. "I am programmed to conduct myself in a dignified manner at

  all times. Why, it's one of the fundamental principles of etiquette

  and protocol--" "Right," Lando said, cutting him short. "Just get to

  it. We have no idea how much time we have. Use the secondary comm

  channel so Lobot and I can still hear each other."

  "Very well, Master Lando," Threepio said, then seemingly fell silent.

  "Lobot, you have access to Attoo's event log?"

  "Yes, Lando."

  "See if you can figure out our new heading from his gyro and

  accelerometer readings leading up to the jump.

  Maybe that, plus Artoo's astrographic database, can tell us something

  about how much time we have--" New Republic ferret IX-26 came out of

  hyperspace close enough to its destination for the planet to fill most

  of the forward viewscreen.

  "Check the coordinates," Kroddok Stopa ordered, frowning. "Absolute

  reference."

  "The astrogator says forty-four, one-niner-six, two-one-oh."

  The pilot spun the index wheel on the ship's log with a swipe of his

  palm. "Yeah, that's what you gave me."

  "Those numbers came directly from the Third General Survey." Stopa

  pointed at the astrogation display.

  "But if I'm reading your board correctly, it says that this planet is

  Maltha Obex. That's a Tobek name."

  The pilot cocked his head toward the astrogator.

  "Maltha Obex, that's right."

  Stopa, expedition chief for the Obroan Institute's mission to Qella,

  shook his head as he studied the data coming in from IX-26's sensors.

  "My stars. What happened here?"

  Glancing up at the viewscreen, the pilot said, "Why, what d'ya mean?

  Looks just like ten thousand other iceballs."

  Josala Krenn, the other half of the Obroan expedition, moved forward

  from her station. "That's just it.

  The Three-GS survey mission reported this as a temperate world. It had

  a population of seven million and a primary ecosystem rated

  provisionally at complexity two."

  Shaking his head, the pilot said dryly, "We must have missed the summer

  season."

  "That was expected," Stopa said. "When the Three-GS contact mission

  came here, they found a third of the landmass glaciated." He left

  unspoken that the contact team had found the planet dead, the Qella

  civilization in ruins.

  "When the Tobek came, they must have thought this world was theirs for

  the taking, and gave it a claiming name," said Josala.

  "What difference does the name make? This is where you wanted to be,

  right? What am I missing?"

  "The last Three-GS contact was a hundred and fifty-eight years ago,"

  Stopa said. "The planet should have begun its recovery by now."

  "I still don't see the problem."

  "Yes, you do," Josala said. "The problem's all we can see. The

  problem is the ice."

  "Try me again."

  Josala sighed. "Where'd you pick us up?"

  "Babali," the pilot said. "Wait--you don't have ice drills? Snow

/>   shelter? Cold suits?"

  "Babali's a tropical dig. For some reason, ice drills weren't on the

  equipment list," said Josala wryly. "Our rover isn't even rated for

  this kind of weather."

  The pilot whistled sympathetically. "Now I see the problem. But why'd

  they send you, then?"

  "We were the best solution to a two-variable equation," said Josala.

  "The nearest bioarchaeologist and the fastest available

  transportation."

  "It is not all bad," Stopa said thoughtfully. "We were sent here to

  recover biological samples. The glacia tion virtually ensures that

  good samples still exist to be recovered."