THE BLACK FLEET CRISIS #3 - TYRANTS_TEST Read online

  Even if something was going on elsewhere in the ship, there should be

  some confirmation here."

  "Maybe we're all wrong about this chamber."

  "I am more and more convinced by the moment," said Lobot. "I can

  barely reach from one grip to the next---even if the Qella are larger

  than we are, it seems inconvenient to scatter controls over such a

  large area."

  "Maybe this is where they hung prisoners, or maidens, or honored

  sacrifices, like figureheads on the bow."

  "I think that unlikely."

  With a grin and the faintest puff of thruster gas, Lando began a slow

  rotation, until he was floating upside down in relation to the

  others.

  "You know, Lobot, they look even more like handholds this

  way--hand-holds and footrests. I wonder--" He craned his neck back

  until he could see the outer face of the chamber.

  "Artoo, how many of the rectangular patterns are there?"

  A moment later, Threepio relayed the answer.

  "Artoo informs me that there are twenty-seven."

  "Are there any extra projections that aren't part of those

  twenty-seven?"

  Threepio consulted with Artoo, then reported, "There are none, Master

  Lando."

  "What are you thinking, Lando?" asked Lobot.

  Grabbing a projection with his left hand, Lando used that leverage to

  turn himself so his back was to the inner face, allowing him to reach

  out and grasp the next projection with his right. His legs were twenty

  centimeters too short for him to reach the bottom corners of the

  rectangle. "I'm thinking 'seating capacity, twenty-seven."

  Though Wookiees and Elomin would be more comfortable than I am."

  "A theater?" Lobot asked, turning himself around as Lando had.

  "Maybe. And maybe the show won't begin until the audience is seated.

  Artoo, Threepio--get on over here and find a place to grab on."

  Artoo towed Threepio to the inner face and waited until the protocol

  droid had grasped a projection with his working hand. Then the little

  astromech droid took up position beside his counterpart, using a

  grappling claw to seize hold.

  Moments afterward, the chamber was plunged into absolute darkness.

  "Lights, Artoo," Lobot said quickly.

  "No," said Lando. "Wait. It's their show."

  Shortly, all four curious spectators could see a brightening glow

  opposite them--a glow that seemed much farther away than the outer face

  of the chamber.

  As the glow continued to increase, it sharpened and separated into

  several distinct bright masses. Then, in the span of a few heartbeats,

  everything before them snapped into vivid, brilliantly lit focus.

  Those same hearts skipped a beat at the sight. Human senses insisted

  that they were no longer inside the vagabond. They were suspended in

  darkness, looking out upon a beautiful ruddy brown planet painted with

  sparkling blue oceans and cloaked in a partial veil of lacy white

  clouds. A brilliant but pale yellow star illumi

  nated the planet's face, which was sculpted by the wandering lines of black mountains and

  dark green stains spreading outward from the rivercourses. Two

  moons--the smaller one dusty gray, the larger a startling red--crept

  along their invisible orbits.

  Lando found himself feeling awe, vertigo, and that peculiar panting

  breathlessness that those who have tasted the cold bite of space are

  prone to.

  "Homeworld," he whispered to himself. "The centerpiece exhibit. As

  though they knew they would never see it again."

  "Lando, I feel like I'm spacewalking," said Lobot, also in a whisper.

  "At least, I think this is what spacewalking would feel like. Is it

  real?"

  "No. It's not quite right--it's more real than reality," Lando said.

  "But you'd have to have been there yourself to know that the

  proportions are wrong, that everything's too big and too close

  together, that the planet's too bright relative to the star, time is

  compressed, and so on. None of which matters. In every way that

  matters, it's flawless."

  Lobot turned his head toward the droids without taking his eyes off the

  panorama. "Artoo, what do your sensors tell you about what's before

  us?"

  Even Attoo's long answer seemed respectfully muted.

  "Artoo says that the outer face of the chamber is still in place," said

  Threepio, "but it now has an optical index of absorption below one

  hundredth of one percent."

  "That's as close to perfect transmissivity as any material I know of,"

  Lobot said.

  "Do you mean it's not a holo?" Lando asked.

  "Master Lando, Artoo says that the star is forty-four meters away. The

  planet is seventeen meters away."

  "It's an orrery," Lobot said. "An enormous shadow-box orrery of the

  Qella system. I'm very curious about the mechanism--" Lando was

  nodding his agreement with Lobot's conclusion, then interrupted him.

  "That's enough. I don't want to hear any more chatter right now."

  "Why? What is wrong?"

  "Nothing," Lando said, drawing and releasing a deep breath. "I may

  never see another piece of art this beautiful again. I just want to

  enjoy it for a while before we go on."

  The refrigerated cask being loaded into the cargo box of Drayson's

  landspeeder at the Obroan Institute's Newport landing bay had made the

  fastest possible journey from Maltha Obex to Coruscant. Even so,

  Drayson wore his impatience openly on his face as he watched the

  stevedores maneuver the large coffin-shaped object.

  "Excuse me?" someone said at Drayson's elbow.

  He turned to find a white-haired, sun-bronzed face peering curiously at

  him.

  "Yes?"

  "Are you Harkin Dyson? The cargomaster said that the owner was here

  for the pickup."

  "Yes," Drayson said, turning away from the loading.

  "And you are--" "Joto Eckels," said the stranger. "I was in charge of

  the excavation. I just had to see if it was you. I wanted to thank

  you myself."

  "For what, Dr. Eckels?"

  "If you hadn't picked up the contract, our trip to Makha Obex would

  have been canceled. We might not have been able to recover Kroddok and

  Josala's bodies for years." He gestured over his shoulder at

  Meridian's shuttle. "And I want to thank you for agreeing to let me

  bring them back with me on this run--that was a great kindness to their

  families."

  "Anyone would have done the same," Drayson said.

  "We might like to think so, sir, but it's not so. I know that's not

  why you picked up the contract, but I want you to know how much that

  opportunity meant to

  all of us who knew the team. And I want to assure you again that none

  of this delayed delivery of your material."

  Eckels nodded toward the cask, now secured in the cargo box.

  "I know it didn't," said Drayson, flashing a reassuring smile. "Thank

  you for your good offices, Dr. Eckels. Meridian will return you to

  Maltha Obex at your convenience--I've already given Captain Wagg his

  instructions. And please relay my thanks to the rest of your team."

  "I will," said Eck
els. "And, by the way--based on what I saw before I

  left, I expect they'll have quite a bit more material recovered and

  cataloged by the time I rejoin them. There are twelve good,

  hardworking folks down there, living out of cold camps and logging long

  days on the digs. You can expect us to return with more than enough to

  allow us to authenticate those possible Qella artifacts."

  "Very good," said Drayson, taking a sidestep toward the cargo

  speeder.

  Eckels moved with 'him. "I was wondering if it might be possible to

  get a look at those artifacts, a holo at the very least, before I head

  back to Maltha Obex."

  "Sorry, I don't think that would be possible," Drayson said, smiling

  politely and trying again to turn away.

  "I understand the need for discretion. I just want to point out that

  it could be very helpful in setting priorities for our remaining time

  there," Eckels said. "After all, twenty-five days is hardly enough to

  make a beginning on an entire planet. I can remember expeditions where

  we spent three months in general survey and site selection before we

  moved our first pebble."

  "Doctor, I understand--and I won't hold you responsible for the

  handicaps I imposed on you," Drayson said. "Above all else, I'm a

  realist. I'm quite certain the results will be in line with my

  expectations."

  Drayson moved toward the cargo speeder's door as though to leave, but

  Eckels moved more quickly and blocked his way. "There's something else

  I need to speak with you about."

  This time Drayson allowed a flash of irritation to cross his face.

  "What is it?"

  "The, uh, material I brought you--" Eckels lowered his voice. "It's

  clear from the way we found the remains, and the artifacts found with

  them, that these creatures were sentient."

  "Which is as I expected. Did you expect otherwise?"

  "Sir, it complicates matters, that's all. If there were survivors, the

  material would belong to them, of course," Eckels said. "In the

  absence of survivors, though, the rules and protocols of the Office of

  Sentient Species apply--material remains must be preserved as found,

  artifacts may be reconstructed but not restored, and so forth. I'm

  sure that a collector of your stature is familiar with those

  requirements--" "Passingly familiar," Drayson said.

  "Well, then, this shouldn't be an issue--for my own conscience's sake,

  I simply wanted to get your reassurance that the material will be

  treated with respect, Eckels said. "There are no known survivors at

  present, but that can change. Look at the Fraii Wys, reappearing nine

  thousand years after history recorded their supposed extinction. And

  the last thing any of us want is a situation where survivors appear and

  find that their ancestors are hanging as decorations in the parlor."

  "Is it your purpose to insult me, Dr. Eckels? If so, let me advise

  you that you're very close to succeeding."

  "Please, no, not at all. You must understand, the Institute is very

  reluctant to let material remains leave our control, and even when we

  do, we always insist on a right of first examination--" "Which you've

  had," Drayson said. "I trust that you took advantage of the travel

  time to conduct that examination and make whatever holos and scans you

  ordinarily would."

  "Yes. Yes, we did."

  "Very well, then," said Drayson, showing a quick

  smile. "If it helps, Doctor, let me reassure you that I'm acutely

  aware of the value of the contents of that cask-and I do not refer only

  to how much I will have paid for you to retrieve it. It will be

  handled with all possible care. After all, a man spends that kind of

  money to acquire a treasure, not to squander and destroy one.

  And the parlor walls are quite full already."

  "Yes, of course," said Eckels, bobbing his head.

  "My apologies if I offended you."

  "No offense taken," said Drayson. "Now, if you'll excuse me . . .

  It was a twenty-minute flight north from Newport to the nearest Alpha

  Blue Technical Services Section, located in the same district where

  several high-profile senators had their official residences. The

  unremarkable buildings housing Section 41 were not on the tour routes,

  however. The small signs bearing the generic and easily forgotten

  business name INTERMATIC, R.C. accounted for the traffic in and out of

  the site's two private hangers.

  Even before Draysoh's speeder had stopped moving, Section 41 staffers

  were moving toward it with a repulsorlift cargo dolly in tow behind

  them. As he emerged from behind the controls, he was greeted with

  smart salutes.

  "Admiral."

  "At ease, Tomas." Drayson moved to the back of the speeder and helped

  loosen the tie-downs and guide the dolly under the cask. "Is Dr.

  Eicroth ready?"

  "Lab five," the colonel said. "She's been standing by for the last

  hour."

  "Let's go, then."

  Dr. Joi Eicroth greeted Drayson with a professional smile that gave no

  hint of a relationship that had covered friend, lover, and fellow

  survivor over a span of thirteen years. But as soon as the cask was

  safely in place beside the large examination plate, Drayson chased the

  junior officers away and added a quick kiss to his greeting.

  "Scandalous, Admiral. I'm on dutY."

  "Yes, you are. Let's get it open," he said.

  "First things first," she said, pulling a cord that brought two

  full-body isolation suits descending from the ceiling on their

  umbilicals. "I have to change into something more comfortable."

  It took her the better part of five minutes to don her iso suit, and

  then the better part of five more to help him into his and seal the

  lab. But it took almost no time at all to switch off the cask's

  stabilization system, break the seal, remove the lid, and vacuum away

  the inert, space-filling foamite that concealed the contents.

  Then they stood at opposite ends of the cask, silently looking down at

  a creature that had died more than a century ago and been buried by its

  friends on the moving ice of Maltha Obex. Its oval, smooth-skinned

  body was nearly as wide as the cask. Its slender, double-jointed limbs

  would not have fit inside it if they had not been neatly folded so that

  its clumsy-looking three-fingered hands covered its face, and its legs

  made a neat square-and-X below its body.

  "It's no wonder," Eicroth said shaking her head.

  "What?"

  She moved to the side of the cask. "These limbs must be five or six

  meters long altogether--and with a cross section not more than six

  centimeters. A perfectly dreadful adaptation for cold. It's amazing

  that this one lived long enough to die where it did."

  Drayson nodded. "I want the genetic material extracted and sequenced

  immediately. The general dissection can wait until that's done."

  "Understood," she said. "Help me move it up on the plate."

  CChapter 3

  General A'baht."

  "Yes?"

  "The gig from the Yakez is coming alongside. You asked to be

  notified."

 
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Etahn A'baht said with out looking up. "See

  that Commodore Carson is escorted to the flag briefing room

  immediately."

  "Yes, sir."

  It was the first of five such vessels expected to rendezvous with the

  fleet carrier Intrepid that morning, and

  Farley Carson was the first of the task force commanders to be piped

  aboard for the command briefing.

  The Star Destroyer Yakez was the flagship of the Fourth

  Fleet's Task Force Apex, and Carson was A'baht's sole

  friend among the arriving flag officers.

  By President Organa Solo's order, the Fifth Fleet

  had been reinforced by elements drawn from three other

  New Republic fleets. With the arrival of Task Force

  Gemstone, all the disparate elements had finally gathered in deep space

  outside Koornacht Cluster, and the business of forging them into a

  single command could begin.

  That burden was to have fallen on Han Solo, but the Yevethan ambush