Star Wars®: The Cestus Deception

by Steven Barnes

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  Over the last days he had gained the trust of G’Mai Duris, Cestus’s puppet Regent, and taken the first steps to furnish her with real political authority. If he could win over the hive council, as well, there might be serious cause for optimism.

  The council members listened to him speak of politics and finances, swiftly comprehending the reasons it might profit them to side with Coruscant. But after expressing confidence in his assessment, they swiftly changed the subject. “There is another matter to discuss, Master Jedi.”

  He glanced at Duris, seeking a clue about the new concern. The Regent turned to face him, moving one portion of her segmented body at a time. Her primary and secondary arms spread, empty palms extended, X’Ting body language indicating confusion. “I know nothing of this,” she said.

  Kosta drummed the fingers of her secondary hands against the table. She consulted with the other members of the council, speaking in clicks and pops, and then addressed Obi-Wan. “It is possible, Master Jedi, that you can perform a great service for us this day.”

  “In what fashion?” he asked.

  Again the council members glanced at one another, as if measuring the wisdom of speech. Then, after a brief conference, Kosta began.

  “There is one other way that Quill might hurt us, if he decides that the hive is no longer deserving of his loyalty.”

  That was a possibility. Certainly, Quill’s addiction to power and naked self-interest might trigger betrayal.

  Obi-Wan felt an emotional charge building in the chamber. He knew that sense: fear of approaching a threshold. The hive council was about to do something that could make the X’Ting deeply vulnerable.

  Kosta continued. “What we are about to tell you is known only to members of the council, and to elite members of the hive’s warrior clan. Even G’Mai Duris did not know this, although her partner, Filian, did.” She bowed respectfully. “Filian was forced to conceal this knowledge from you, by oath.”

  It was clear this revelation was painful to Duris. Until now, she had clung to the illusion that she had known her deceased mate completely. “What is it?”

  “There is much about the history of our planet that you could not know, Master Jedi. Much that is not in the fabled archives of Coruscant.”

  “Regrettable, but always true,” Obi-Wan said. “Please illuminate.”

  “Once,” Kosta explained, “the hive was strong. We had defeated the spider people in a great war, and brought the entire planet under the rule of the hive and our queen, who was wise and just. We believed that it was time for us to enter the galactic community. But this was not merely a matter of gaining political recognition. We coveted the role of trading partner, but what resources might we offer to become so?

  “What products could we produce? What minerals might we have? We searched, and found nothing that was not available on worlds nearer the galaxy’s central hub. Nothing that would give us the advantage we sought.

  “Then we heard a rumor that Coruscant was planning to expand its prison system, and was looking for host worlds on the Rim that might be willing to lease or sell land for such facilities. Land was one thing Cestus had in plenty, and it seemed an admirable opportunity. Overtures were made, and we won a contract.”

  She sighed. “At first, all seemed well. Several facilities were constructed, and the scum of the galaxy were safely quartered in reconstructed caverns beneath our sands.”

  All of this Obi-Wan knew, of course.

  “Once the deal was struck, we swallowed our pride and accepted a position on the Republic’s bottom rung. Many of our workers were hired for the mines and factories. We learned to negotiate, so that future leasings and sales were more favorable. We were paid our rental fees, with which we hired surveyors to more carefully examine our resources with a mind to expanding trade.

  “Then something completely unexpected happened. Executives from Cybot Galactica were convicted of fraud and gross negligence and sentenced to prison here. These former beings of power were forced to dig in the depths of the caverns. Some of the work was useful: enlarging their living spaces, building shops and offices. Some of it was mere make-work, the time-honored prison task of turning big rocks into little ones. But during the digging, the executives discovered minerals used in advanced droid fabrication. A treasure, floating unsuspected in the Outer Rim!

  “The executives hatched a plan to free themselves. In meetings with the prison authorities, they proposed to make the guards and warden wealthy beyond their dreams. The essence of the proposal was that the pooled talents and contacts of the various prisoners might well create an endless stream of first-class droids. Here on Ord Cestus there was labor aplenty, mountains of raw material, skill, and savvy. They needed only permission.

  “The deal was struck, the stage set for the creation of Cestus Cybernetics. The executives put out the word to former customers and employees, and immigration to Ord Cestus began in earnest. The first factory was in operation within a standard year, producing a modest repair droid that received favorable reviews and respectable orders. They were up and running.”

  Kosta raised her voice. “But as the fledgling company grew in power and wealth, it came into conflict with the queen and king. First, managers purchased additional land with worthless synthetic gems. The royals were forced to swallow this humiliation, but they did attempt to negotiate larger shares of wealth for the hive, for the education of our people, for healthcare.”

  “Healthcare?”

  “A necessity. Since the founding of the prison there had been numerous strange and damaging ailments spreading through our population. The inmates, from every corner of the galaxy, brought countless diseases with them, creating wave after wave of illness. We sickened by the thousands.

  “The negotiations were fierce. Our rulers threatened to withhold X’Ting labor and to refuse to allow Cestus Cybernetics to expand its mining operation.

  “Then the Great Plague hit us.” Kosta leaned forward, emerald eyes gleaming. “I know that it cannot be proved, but we knew, knew that this plague was no accident. It was unleashed upon us to destroy the royal family, to splinter the hive so that there would be no effective opposition. Perhaps even to exterminate us.”

  Obi-Wan flinched at the passion in those words. Was such villainy possible? Foolish to ask: of course it was. Coruscant knew little of what happened on the Outer Rim. And since Cestus Cybernetics controlled the official information stream, any conceivable perfidy might have been concealed.

  “And this genocide almost worked. But as the plague swept through the hive, a frantic plan was put into action: to place several healthy eggs in suspended animation and to hide them in a special vault deep below Cestus’s surface, where only a chosen few would know the truth, the path, and the method of opening.

  “The vault was constructed by Toong’l Security Systems—a company in competition with Cestus Cybernetics, and known to be trustworthy. The workers were blind-shuttled to the site and never knew the location. When it was completed, we knew that whatever happened to the rest of the royals, there would be at least one fertilized egg pair that was safe—royals, who could mate and create a new line.”

  Instantly, Obi-Wan grasped the significance. After the plague, the surviving X’Ting had scattered across the surface of Ord Cestus. But a new royal line might draw them back together again, unite them. G’Mai Duris was but Regent, holding the power until the return of a new royal pair. Under her capable hands the power transfer might rejuvenate this unhappy planet. A promising idea!

  Obi-Wan organized his thoughts carefully, and then spoke. “So…with this news about the ownership of the land beneath Cestus Cybernetics, a pair of royals to unite the planet might give you greater voice on Coruscant, and build your people a better future?”

  “Yes,” Kosta agreed, eyes sparkling. “There are problems, though. First, the plague was deadlier than we expected. After the royals died, several X’Ting clans chose to stay deep below the surface, to
seal off all contact with offworlders. They became almost a separate hive: there has been virtually no contact with those clans for a century. Worse still, every X’Ting who knew the secret of the vault died in the plague. All that remain are keys to open the outer door. Lastly, Toong’l Security Systems was destroyed when its planet was struck by a comet. Its leaders might have told us how to open the vault, but…” Kosta made a resigned shrugging motion.

  Obi-Wan squinted. “But certainly you can still use other means to retrieve the eggs.”

  The old X’Ting female sighed, nervously knotting the fingers of primary and secondary hands. “You don’t understand the status of royals. By breeding and culture, every X’Ting must obey them. It is our way, and it is in our blood. Therefore, they are both the greatest treasure, and the greatest threat. An X’Ting royal pair in the hands of Cestus Cybernetics would reduce every X’Ting on this planet to slavery. Rather than have that happen, a tamper detector was built into the vault. We are not certain as to its details, but we have reason to believe that after three unsuccessful attempts to open the chamber, the eggs will be destroyed.”

  By the stars! These people had been so desperate?

  “So…,” he began cautiously. “What service do you wish of me?”

  “Twice in the past we tried to regain the precious eggs. Twice our bravest have tried to reach the vault. Twice they perished before they could reach it.” A pause. “There is a story whispered among our people. It is said that a hundred and fifty years ago a visitor came from the center of the galaxy. A warrior with powers beyond any the X’Ting had ever seen. He called himself a Jedi. It is said his courage and wisdom saved our people. I think it no mere coincidence that now, in our hour of need, another Jedi has appeared.”

  Obi-Wan felt a thrill of alarm. He had not anticipated such a situation. “Madam,” he said, “it is a great weight you wish me to carry.”

  “We believe you capable of withstanding it.”

  He had heard no story in the Jedi archives about a visit to Ord Cestus, but it was certainly possible. Many Jedi avoided acclaim; they were capable of stunning feats of valor, followed by such modesty that they might decline even to give their names. “And you fear that Quill, angry with the Regent, might betray these secret eggs to the Five Families. And that they might launch their own effort to recover them, and use them against you.”

  “You see our situation, yes.”

  He did. Coruscant wanted something: the cessation of droid production. The X’Ting, indeed all beings on this planet, were more or less dependent on a continued income stream from Cestus Cybernetics. Obi-Wan was asking them to side with him, to trust him. He had thought to do this through diplomacy, but providence had given him a means of winning their trust more directly, had he sufficient courage. “I accept your request. I will attempt to recover your eggs,” he said.

  Kosta sighed in relief. “You will need a guide. A small cluster of X’Ting warriors have studied the original maps through the deep hive. Originally there were five broodmates. Only one survives.” She turned to the others. “Call Jesson.”

  The council members leaned their heads together, touching antennae as they buzzed and clicked in X’Tingian. After a few moments a small male left the table and scuttled off into a side tunnel.

  “G’Mai, I am in your hands,” Obi-Wan said quietly. The elders had carried themselves well, but the Regent was the only X’Ting he could claim to know. If anyone here could be relied upon for full disclosure, it was she. “Is there anything else that I should know before setting out on this mission?”

  “Jedi,” Duris said. “I know only the whispered rumors about the visit of a Jedi Master. I’d never heard of the royal eggs before this day.”

  The council members turned as the small male councilor returned. Behind him, in a gray tunic with a diagonal red stripe, marched a larger male bristling with red thoracic fur. His red, faceted eyes took in the entire room at a glance, scanning Obi-Wan and making an instant, positive threat assessment. The newcomer’s primary and secondary arms bore numerous pale scars: this was an experienced warrior, probably a member of some elite hive security unit. A triple-sectioned staff hewn of some clear material lay diagonally across his back.

  The newcomer put the palms of his primary and secondary hands together, then spoke in a series of clicks and pops.

  Kosta raised her left primary hand. “It is requested that you speak in Basic when in this human’s presence.”

  The X’Ting soldier turned to regard Obi-Wan. His first scan had taken a fraction of a second. The second took longer, long enough for Obi-Wan to sense the intense disdain in the X’Ting’s eyes. “My pardon to our honored guest. My words were: ‘First Rank Jesson is present and ready for duty.’ ”

  “I should go with you,” Duris offered. “This is my job, my planet. If we fail, and Quill betrays us, we are all undone.”

  “But you are your people’s leader,” Obi-Wan said. “You are needed here.”

  Duris protested, but the other council members voted her down. She seemed as distressed as Obi-Wan had ever seen. “You came here as a friend, and helped me more than words can say,” she said, taking his two hands in her four. “I hope that I have not brought you to your death.”

  “Jedi are not so easily killed,” he said.

  “If you are half the warrior Master Yoda is said to be, you will prevail,” she said.

  Jesson’s eyes narrowed at that. If Obi-Wan had felt more confident in reading X’Ting facial expressions, he would have said the soldier’s dominating mood was one of contempt.

  “Well, let us begin.” Obi-Wan turned to his guide. “We descend into the bowels of the planet together,” he said. “Will you tell me your full name?”

  “First Rank Jesson Di Blinth,” the other said, and bowed formally. “Of the volcano Di Blinths.”

  “Well met, Jesson,” the Jedi replied. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, of Coruscant. Are we ready to leave?”

  Jesson conferred swiftly with the other members of the council. Two members touched scent glands at the sides of their necks, and with damp fingers made a series of dots on the table before them. Jesson made moist markings of his own in a similar fashion.

  Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, and Duris explained: “Much of our information is stored in scents.”

  “These contain most of what we currently know or remember about the path,” Kosta said. “No one has taken it in so long…”

  “I thought you said that four of your number tried, and were slain in the process,” Obi-Wan said.

  “Not completely accurate,” Jesson said, studying the tabletop. “The first attempt was through the direct opening to the egg chamber, which buttresses a lava tube. My brother never returned, and we know that defensive mechanisms were triggered. A backup entrance was tried next. My second brother never returned, and the door was jammed.”

  “Did you attempt to open it?”

  Jesson regarded him with scorn. “Whatever happened there cost the life of a brave warrior. We will not disrespect him by assuming we can succeed where he failed.”

  “What, then?”

  “There is another way down, through the old tunnels.”

  The mention of that word quieted the room for a long moment, and again G’Mai Duris raised an objection. “I should go. Obi-Wan risks his life because of me.”

  “Later, perhaps, when you have shifted back to male,” Kosta said, her emerald eyes flashing with compassion. “But now you are not as strong and light as you will be. We cannot risk you. You are our face with the offworlders.”

  Duris took Obi-Wan’s hands in hers. “Then go with luck,” she said.

  Obi-Wan nodded. “The Force is what we will need.” He turned to Jesson. “Well, if it is to be done, it is best done swiftly.”

  And together they left the chamber.

  2

  Above them stood Ord Cestus’s capital city of ChikatLik, a metropolis of six million citizens built into a natural lava bubble modified by th
e hive. The bubble’s natural gray glaze was a rainbow of reflected colors from the city lights and holoboards. ChikatLik boasted the architecture of a hundred cultures, was a forest of twisting spires and elevated tramways, airways filled with droid shuttles, taxis, personal transportation and trams of all kinds. The bubble walls concealed a network of transport systems within the ground itself: subways and magrails and lev tracks, technological wonders ferrying workers, executives, ore, and equipment.

  But down here, far below ChikatLik’s streets, there was only the hive. Generations of hive builders had chewed and burrowed through the ground. The texture of the walls had a chewed duracrete appearance that Obi-Wan had noted elsewhere in ChikatLik, clear evidence of X’Ting construction.

  Down in the lowest tunnels the walls were coated with rectangular patches of manicured white fungus that emitted a steady bluish glow. “Is this your form of illumination?” Obi-Wan asked.

  Jesson nodded. “The fungus is well maintained here, fed and trimmed. Farther back it grows wild, and the fungus eats into the walls, slowly widening the tunnels.”

  The fungus had etched the rock until it seemed like the surface of some ancient sculpture. Obi-Wan ran his fingers over it as they walked, felt that he was reading an ancient book of X’Ting secret history. “How many outsiders have been here?” he asked.

  “You are the first,” Jesson told him.

  Obi-Wan sighed. Jesson’s tone had been flat and cold. He and the X’Ting would have to come to an understanding, but he hoped to delay it until they had spent a bit more time together. “Where does this come out?”

  Jesson turned to him, sneering. “Listen, Jedi. I will follow my orders and take you along with me, but I don’t have to like it. You offworlders ruined our planet. You cheated and brainwashed us and corrupted our leaders—”

  “If you’re thinking of Quill, I believe he’s been removed from the council.”

  “And replaced with Duris,” Jesson said. “I doubt she’s much better.”