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

"You can't land us in a whiteout," said Josala. "If you set us down on

  the edge of one of those ice boulders, we'll flip over before the strut

  levelers can do anything."

  "Ninety-five."

  "I'll just hover at ten meters until the thrusters blow the site clear

  of loose material," Stopa said confidently, "If I can't get definition

  on the findercarriage holo, I won't try to land. All right?"

  "All right," Josala said with a sigh.

  "Sixty," the pilot said. "Ease off, or you're going to overrun the

  site."

  Stopa tapped the air brakes lightly and pulled back on the control

  handle slightly. As the rover settled toward the glacier, it was once

  again engulfed in a billow of jet-driven snow. But before long, the

  swirling cloud began to thin, and the horizon returned.

  "Twenty-five."

  Josala peered forward. "I can't judge distances without a referent.

  That big slab of ice--" He patted her arm. "It's bigger and farther

  away than you think."

  "Ten. Eight. Five. Easy--" "Take me to plus-sixteen. I want to put

  the rover's tail right down on top of it."

  "It's under you now. Plus-six. Plus-nine. Plus-fourteen--" Stopa

  pushed the control handle sharply down, and the rover dropped hard and

  shook from the impact, nose tilted down and sliding sideways. It came

  to a stop with another small jolt, then slowly came to level.

  "There," he said, switching quickly among the un-dercarriage scanners

  and studying the display.

  Those closest to the thrusters were frozen over with steam ice, but the

  forward and aft scanners were clear.

  The front landing strut seemed to be wedged in a small crevasse, though

  no damage was evident. Aft, the body of the rover was sitting

  comfortably above the ice.

  "That wasn't half bad," he said with a grin, setting the systems to

  STANDBY.

  "Let's just get it done," Josala said crossly.

  One behind the other, they made their way through the crawlspace over

  the orbital engine compartment to the crowded gear bay. There they

  helped each other into their improvised snow gear--the ferret's sole

  emergency spacesuit for her, a standard digger's isolation suit for

  him, augmented by the ferret pilot's spacesuit glove liners.

  Neither of them was prepared for the blinding dazzle of the glacier

  when the gear bay doors swung open.

  The sky was clear, and the blue-white sun lit the landscape with cold

  crystal fire as hard to look at as the sun itself. Josala's viewplate

  adjusted for it, but Stopa had to avert his eyes and squint to keep

  from being overwhelmed.

  "Spectacular!" Stopa exulted.

  "Sightsee when we're finished," Josala chided.

  Everything took longer than it should have. The core drill base didn't

  want to latch in the working position, giving Josala reason to worry

  about whether the bay doors would seal properly when it was time to

  leave.

  The gloves made them both clumsy and turned the routine assembly of the

  first sections of the coring tube into a test. Josala's sounding for

  the body beneath them was marred by crazy echoes. The drill's gimbal

  mount froze up until the drill was turned on, complicating the

  alignment on Josala's sounding.

  But at last the coring bit chewed its way into the surface of the

  glacier and headed down into its depths.

  "Seven sections!" Stopa shouted over the rumble of the drill. "At

  this angle, we'll need seven sections."

  Josala waved her hand in acknowledgment and turned away to pull the

  next section from the rack. It danced under her touch, and she drew

  her hand back.

  She pressed her gauntlet against the wall of the bay and felt it

  shivering. It was then that she realized that what she had thought was

  her own body shivering was the deck of the rover vibrating under her

  feet. The drill was roaring now, as though its bearing rings had

  disintegrated, its lubricants turned to grit.

  "Turn it off!" she cried, pulling her way along to where Stopa was

  leaning out the back of the bay, looking down at the core drive and

  measuring the drill's progress. "Turn it off!" He looked up at her

  dumbly, and she reached behind him for the controls.

  The core cylinder spun to a stop, but neither the vibration nor the

  noise ceased. Just the opposite, in fact--the rumble was growing

  louder and the shaking growing worse.

  With a desperate fear already in their eyes, they looked out from the

  gear bay at the mountain ridge behind them, the ridge they had flown

  over just minutes before, the ridge that had been like cotton bathed in

  sunlight. The middle of the ridge was now hidden behind an onrushing

  wall of snow and ice, spreading and climbing the sky as it hurtled

  closer.

  There was no chance to escape into that sky. The avalanche was on them

  before they could even quite remember the word. It tumbled the rover

  before it like a toy, packing its every crevice with snow, engulfing

  the ship in the furious turbulence of the icy maelstrom.

  When the flow finally slowed and ceased, its leading edge reaching

  nearly halfway across the valley, there were two more bodies buried on

  the ice for Penga Rift to recover.

  "The first thing we need is a way to find this spot again, and this

  passage is notably lacking in landmarks," said Lando. Using the

  cutting blaster, he sliced a small triangle off one corner of the

  equipment grid. "Where was our doorway? Here?"

  "Lower," said Lobot. "There."

  "I'm glad you're sure," said Lando. "I'm all turned around." He cut a

  slit in the bulkhead, inserted one edge of the triangle, and held it

  there until the bulkhead closed around it. Then he placed one palm

  flat against the bulkhead and tried to tug the metal grid out of the

  wall. "That should do it."

  Lobot drifted up with a short length of cord in one hand. "We might

  want more than one marker before we're done," he said, looping the cord

  through one of the diamond-shaped openings and tying the ends together

  with an overhand knot. "One knot equals the first marker. We'll put

  two knots on the next one."

  "Okay," said Lando, turning away from the wall.

  "There's one thing I overlooked when we took inventory.

  I burned about sixty percent of my thruster propellant trying to get up

  here."

  "I have ninety-one percent remaining," said Lobot.

  "Unfortunately, there is no way for me to share my supply with you."

  "You might end up sharing it by carrying me around on your back," Lando

  said. "Threepio, how are you doing for thrust mass?"

  Artoo burbled, and Threepio offered the translation.

  "Artoo says that his propellant supply is adequate, but he would like

  to be informed when any of us locates a power coupling."

  "With any luck, it'll be right next to an oxygen valve," Lando said

  grimly. "All right--we are in a survival situation. This ship has now

  jumped twice, and we have to assume that it lost any pursuit that was

  mounted with that second jump. That means our first priority is to

  locate and disable th
e hyperdrive, and stop this ship."

  "But Master Lando, if we disable the hyperdrive, we would be stranded,"

  Threepio protested.

  "We don't know how long the vagabond stays in hyperspace--weeks,

  months, years. The galaxy is one hundred twenty thousand light-years

  across. I like our chances better stranded."

  "Master Lando, would it not be more prudent to find the masters of this

  vessel and petition them to take us back to Coruscant?"

  "Threepio, I think we're the masters of this vessel now," Lando said.

  "We have to be, if we're going to survive." He ticked off the

  priorities on his fingers.

  "First, we find some way to stop this ship. Second, we find out where

  that leaves us. Third, we find out who our nearest friend is. Fourth,

  we find some way to signal them. If we get that all done before Lobot

  and I run out of air and the droids run out of power, then we can worry

  about who built the vagabond, and why."

  "We may need to engage those questions in order to achieve those

  objectives," said Lobot.

  "Maybe," said Lando. "But in my experience, you really don't need to

  know much about a precision machine in order to smash it." He pointed

  a finger to the left, then to the right. "What's your best

  guess--hyper-drive aft, or forward?"

  "Center of mass is the most efficient placement," Lobot said.

  "Forward."

  Lando nodded. "Then let's get going."

  Colonel Pakkpekatt hovered near the communications station as the

  cruiser Glorious dropped out of hy perspace. The chase armada was

  strung out along forty light-years, and Glorious was the second bead on

  the string. "Give them to me as fast as they come," he said to the

  tech at the station.

  "Yes, sir. I'm seeing six dispatches--an emergency action directive

  from the Fleet Office, copied to Captain Garch. A blue letter from the

  NRI, copied to Captain Hammax. A dispatch marked 'Urgent' from the

  Obroan Institute. Reports from Lightning, Pran, and Nagwa."

  "The three ships behind us," said Pakkpekatt. "Very well. Make the

  dispatches available at my station."

  Crossing the bridge with long, light-footed strides, Pakkpekatt eased

  himself into his flak couch and brought up the secure display. Neither

  his face nor his carriage betrayed any emotion as he read through the

  dispatches one after another. When he was finished, he tipped the

  screen away and let out a long hiss.

  "Major Legorburu."

  Ixidro Legorburu, the M'haeli intelligence officer who was serving as

  Pakkpekatt's tactical aide, hurried to his station in response to the

  summons. "Colonel."

  "We have just received a Fleet-wide level one alert," Pakkpekatt said,

  tipping his display upward so that the major could read the emergency

  action directive. "My request for additional ships for the search has

  been denied.

  I am under orders to release Marauder, Pran, and Nagwa from their

  duties here so that they may return to their respective commands at

  best possible speed."

  "That's nearly half our remaining strength, sir," Legorburu said,

  shaking his head. "What do they expect us to do?"

  "Fail, apparently," Pakkpekatt said curtly. "I have also been placed

  on notice that Glorious may be recalled as well. We are to remain on

  one-hour alert status, which means no jumps greater than one half

  light-year."

  "At least that allows us to proceed with the search," said Legorburu.

  "But we should call Kettemoor forward to fill the gap in the line when

  Marauder pulls out. She should be finished with recovery work by now,

  anyway."

  "Kettemoor has already jumped to Nichen with the dead and injured from

  the Kauri," said Pakkpekatt. "We will not have her back for another

  day at least--if they allow her to rejoin us at all."

  Legorburu peered intently at the display. "I don't get it, Colonel.

  Why the sudden change of priorities?

  What's happening back there? It must be something big if they can't

  spare a thirty-year-old gunship and a couple of interdiction

  pickets."

  "That information was not made available to me," said Pakkpekatt. His

  mouth curled in an unhappy threat-snarl.

  "Maybe I can get something out-of-channel," said Legorburu. "Would you

  like me to try?"

  Pakkpekatt nodded. " Please do," he said. "I would like to have a

  better idea just who I must wrestle to keep this mission alive."

  CChapter 3

  The procession through the passageway of the Teljkon vagabond was led

  by Lando Calrissian, combat blaster in hand. Following close behind

  was Artoo, towing the equipment grid protectively behind him. Last in

  line was Lobot, with Threepio riding on the back of his contact suit

  like a child perched on the back of his father.

  "This is my fault," Lando said, peering over his shoulder at them. "I

  should have gone ahead and gotten a thrust belt for Threepio, maybe

  even a complete thrust harness and powerpack. Consumable refills for

  the contact suits, too."

  "We have them--had them--on Lady Luck," said Lobot. "Everything could

  not fit on one sled."

  "I'd trade most everything on that grid for a couple of refill packs.

  I never thought we'd be in zero-G as long as it looks like we will

  be."

  Forever, maybe, Lando thought grimly.

  "It is an interesting design choice," Lobot said.

  "The Qella appear to have done everything they could to make it hard

  for us to move about in here. There is no artificial gravity, no

  spin.

  The bulkheads are nonmag netic and have no friction tracks, handholds,

  or zip lines."

  "What's so interesting about that?"

  "The Qella were planet-dwellers," Lobot said, surprised by the

  question. "How did they expect to get around in this ship?"

  Lando grunted. "Maybe the Qella are giant slugs as wide as this

  tunnel."

  "Perhaps," said Lobot. "But even giant slugs are probably more

  comfortable in a gravity field. I can't help thinking that somewhere

  in this vessel there must be a switch that would make all of this much

  easier."

  The passage seemed to have no end. It curved away in front of Lando

  like an ever-receding horizon, teasing him with a promise it never

  fulfilled. "How long has it been now?"

  "Artoo's event recorders say we entered the vagabond three hours, eight

  minutes ago. We left our entry point forty-seven minutes ago," Lobot

  answered.

  "Seems even longer than that," said Lando. "Am I the only one who's

  noticed? Shouldn't we have run out of ship by now?"

  "Obviously we haven't."

  "Nothing's obvious here," Lando said. "We're cruising at a meter per

  second, minus overhead for a couple of stops. Forty-five minutes is

  twenty-seven hundred seconds. And this ship is only fifteen hundred

  meters long. We should be a kilometer out in front of the bow by

  now."

  "The conduits we saw on the surface of the vagabond wind around it in

  complex patterns," Lobot said.

  "If we are inside one of those, as I believe we are
, that could account

  for the length of this passage."

  "No, it couldn't, because we're still heading forward.

  Aren't we? If this passage had turned back, we'd have noticed."

  "Would we?" asked Lobot. "Without landmarks and referents, I find it

  difficult to be sure."

  "You're right about that. No matter how I try, I can't keep a picture

  of this place in my head," Lando complained, turning to face the

  others. "Artoo, let me see your map again."

  Artoo's holoprojector flickered into life. The map superimposed the

  data from Artoo's inertial movement sensors over the scans of the

  vagabond performed by Pakkpekatt's technicians, showing their path

  through it as a bright red line. The line wiggled back and forth like

  a low-frequency sine wave across the hull of the ship and extended out

  beyond it.

  "See?" Lando said. "We are out in front of the ship."

  "Artoo, are your gyros operating normally?" Lobot asked.

  The droid's affirmation was indignant.

  "Then how do you explain this data?"

  Artoo chirped a curt reply. "The ship is longer now?" Threepio