lubricants and dust.
The Calamarian ambassador worked at the controls. With a thrumming,
puttering growl, the minisub's engines fired up. Propellers turned,
then ground to a halt against the solid ice that pressed in around
them.
"Seems to be working smoothly enough," Jacen said.
"Yes, but we are not able to move anywhere," Tenel Ka pointed out. She
listened to the sound of ice scraping against the hull.
" If those icebergs shift, our situation will become even more
perilous," Cilghal said. "We'll be crushed."
"Great," Jacen answered. "Up until now I was having a tough time
imagining how things could possibly get any worse."
Her face grim, Tenel Ka stood. "We are trapped ... but it is only
ice." She looked around at the four other passengers crowded into the
small sub. "I count five lightsabers among us. Certainly that should
suffice to cut us free." She raised her eyebrows. "If we are,willing
to go outside."
Per regulations from the Crystal Reef Amusement and Tourism Council,
the minisub was required to carry enough slicksuits for each passenger
in an emergency. Their current situation, Jacen thought, was about as
much of an emergency as anyone could have imagined.
" You know this is probably suicidal, don't you?" Anja said as she
slipped into the flimsy garment that clung to her skin like a symbiotic
organism. She pulled the skull-fitting hood over her voluminous hair,
so that most of her head was covered. The glistening Calamarian fabric
molded itself to bodily contours and provided temperature control.
Jacen wondered, though, if even the most efficient heaters would keep
them warm enough this deep under the polar ice.
Cilghal stepped forward and took hold of a flap at the neck of Jacen's
suit. "This membrane will allow you to breathe," she said, stretching
it tight over his mouth and nose. Now only his eyes were exposed. "It
will filter oxygen molecules from the water. You can breathe as
usual.
Just do it slowly and carefully."
"Are you sure our lightsabers will function underwater?" Zekk asked,
looking at his newly made-and untested-weapon.
Cilghal nodded, her round Calamarian eyes swiveling as she held up her
own lightsaber. The hilt was lumpy, but with a smooth, pearly
finish.
"It will, if you constructed it properly."
Tenel Ka frowned down at her lightsaber, made from a carved rancor's
tooth, and flashed a glance over at Jacen. Zekk knew she must be
recalling the day her own defective lightsaber had failed, resulting in
the loss of her arm. But she had built a new weapon, taking extra
precautions.
Zekk thought of the extraordinary care with which he had built his new
lightsaber. Master Skywalker himself had approved. He took a deep
breath, nodding confidently. "Then my weapon won't fail."
Jacen, Zekk, Tenel Ka, Anja, and Cilghal finished suiting up, then took
turns going through the force-field doorway into the deep, cold
ocean.
Jacen inhaled deeply. The membrane that covered his face produced a
warm flow of breathable air.
Still, he hesitated at the portal. Anja, standing next to him, gave
him an inquiring look. Finally, Jacen stepped through the shimmering
hatch and out into a world of liquid ice.
Pulsing lightsaber blades blazed through the water like colorful
torches, attracting tiny darting fish that somehow lived and flourished
in the inhospitable arctic environment. Stalactites of clear blue ice
lurked around them like massive fangs. Broken icebergs trapped the
insignificant minisub. The lightsabers shimmered in the murky water,
cutting an underwater channel through the frozen mountains.
With her one arm-the other sleeve snubbed tightly and knotted so it
would be waterproof-Tenel Ka wielded her turquoise blade. She slashed,
severing a slab of ice. Steam and bubbles erupted as the chunk slowly
drifted away, freeing one of the fins of the minisub.
Jacen hacked and chopped at the prison of ice. His lungs heaved,
drawing tendrils of air through the membrane. All around him the water
felt like a smothering blanket of carbonite. The slicksuit fought off
most of the deadly chill, but the cold eventually seeped through.
Jacen found his arms and legs growing sluggish. His mind felt
lethargic and stupid, as if he were thinking in slow motion.
Cilghal, better adapted for underwater work even in the arctic seas,
swam ahead, using her throbbing lightsaber to hack her way forward.
Bubbles churned upward until they were trapped by the ice ceiling.
Cilghal cleared a narrow channel, then moved along the fresh
passageway, rolling with her lightsaber.
Zekk swam directly behind her, widening the channel with his energy
blade.
Jacen, Tenel Ka, and Anja worked closer to the Elfa. When the last of
the frozen jaws were sheared away, the small craft settled slightly and
drifted loose. Jacen felt the cold growing more and more intense all
around his body. His arms and legs seemed heavy. Too heavy.
Tenel Ka watched him with a look of concern. They were both good
swimmers. Together they had spent many days swimming in the river on
Yavin 4. But this was cold, infinitely colder....
Jacen forced his hand to give a thumbs-up sign, and Tenel Ka nodded.
Together they swam back toward the minisub's force-field hatch.
Jacen waved for Anja, who floated in place close to the Elfa holding
her acid-yellow lightsaber. She signaled that she would be behind them
in a moment. Jacen and Tenel Ka rapidly stroked toward the hatch,
toward warmth.
Up ahead, Cilghal and Zekk had nearly finished with their labors as
well.
Anja had worked as hard as she could manage. She had no strength in
the Force, and her only special abilities with a lightsaber had come
from having her body pumped up with andris spice. She was free of that
addiction now, however. She would never use the spice again ... but
that also meant she would never feel the same rush again, the energy
she had once considered a part of her strength.
The lightsaber in her hand was a fraud, nothing more than an antique
she had purchased from a peddler who specialized in Jedi artifacts.
Anja knew how hard Zekk had worked to build his own sleek and simple
weapon-and its hilt looked nothing like the heavy,ornate design of her
energy blade.
However, Zekk's lightsaber was real. He had earned his, and he knew
how to use it. The Force guided him. Anja's didn't belong to her, no
matter what she had paid for it. It was a Jedi weapon, and she was
not-nor would she ever be-a Jedi. Perhaps the lightsaber was itself a
symbol of her addiction-her willingness to rely on something that was
not a part of her.
Caught up in her restless thoughts, she swam around the fin of the
minisub and saw something trapped between two struts in the support
casing that held the rudder in place: a single remaining vial of andris
spice, glittering and preserved in the frigid water. It must have
>
caught there when they broke open the containers hidden under the ice
caps, or when the sea monster had attacked them and consumed the rest
of the stash.
As if drawn by a magnet, Anja swam forward and plucked out the vial.
It was pure andris.
Anja hesitated. She could take it ... treat herself to one last
dose.
She felt the yearning return inside her, a longing for that familiar
surge of energy that made her feel so intensely alive. She knew it was
more mental than physical. If she succumbed now, if she kept this dose
for herself ... it would be like voluntarily placing her hands into a
set of stun-cuffs. She might as well lock herself up and become a
prisoner of her own addiction once more.
But Anja didn't want that. She didn't want it ever again.
She let the vial drift out of her hand. The small object floated there
in front of her, taunting her, daring her to change her mind.
Anja locked her acid-yellow lightsaber ON and, with an effort, swept
down, slicing through the offensive vial. It disintegrated in a puff
of scared materials.
Then, as she stared down at the Jedi relic in her grasp, Anja knew she
could never use it again. Deep inside, she felt a calm finality at
this knowledge.
Anja's cold fingers released their grip on the hilt and let the
lightsaber drift away. Then, with a feeling of satisfaction, Anja swam
back to the warmth and companionship that waited for her aboard the
minisub.
Czethros was on the run. He could see no way out of his situation.
If he managed to escape Kessel and elude the young Jedi Knights and
Nien Nunb's security team, he might be even worse off ... because then
he would have to explain this failure to his brutal superiors in Black
Sun. Czethros was certain those people could think of much more
imaginative punishments than any New Republic justice organization
could.
Even his old nemesis, Han Solo, would probably be more kind.
With the signal generator destroyed, Czethros had no way to rally his
scattered forces around the galaxy. The few operatives he had planted
in appropriate positions of power controlled key systems-but unless
everything happened simultaneously at Czethros's command, it would all
come to naught. The few isolated emergencies would easily be dealt
with by the New Republic.
His chance had now been lost. Even his grasp on the spice mines of
Kessel had slipped. Instead of orchestrating the sudden overthrow of
industries and minor governments across what remained of the Empire,
Czethros found himself running for his life. Hiding in the dark
mines.
Humiliated.
The tide had turned. Nien Nunb and his security troops controlled the
catacombs. Second Administrator Kymn and the other infiltrators
Czethros had planted here had either been captured or otherwise
neutralized.
Perhaps if he could get to a docking bay, he could steal a ship and get
away. Perhaps Czethros could make a new life for himself, hiding
somewhere in the Outer Rim. He didn't seem to have much of a chance,
but it was better than waiting here. And it was better than letting
himself get caught by Black Sun.
As silently as possible, he crawled up ladders, rung by rung. He
wasn't used to such physical exertion. During all the many years he
had been running the show on Ord Mantell, he hadn't had to fend for
himself much. He'd always had droids or henchmen.
But now Czethros was alone. He knew he could trust no one.
Furtively, he consulted one of the electronic wall maps of the spice
mines. The projection grids were frequently out of date, since new
shafts were always being drilled and new excavations dug. But the main
docking bays were permanent structures, and so most of the directions
remained valid.
Czethros followed narrow ventilation shafts. He felt uneasy, as if he
were a poisonous insect creeping into a peaceful home, but he had to
get to an empty ship and escape somehow.
When he emerged into the main cargo bay, he poked his head out of the
shadows to make certain he could move without being seen. There among
the stranded empty spaceships he spotted a little man moving about,
tinkering with the engines on his craft. Czethros recognized him as
the hapless and not terribly bright smuggler, Lilmit.
The small man used his webbed fingers to fiddle with the external flow
controls, and the sublight engines sent out a bright blast. Then the
repulsors made a rewarding and satisfying hum. Lilmit jumped up and
down with glee.
Czethros's heart swelled with hope. This was what he needed to see.
He marched forward, squaring his shoulders to look as intimidating as
possible. Lilmit was his employee, someone he could easily
manipulate.
Czethros crossed the docking bay floor. Lilmit didn't even notice him
until the Black Sun lieutenant was nearly at his side. "Keep those
engines running, Lilmit," he said. "You and I are going to get out of
here-right now."
The small smuggler squawked. "Czethros! I was just leaving! What
happened to your takeover?"
"There's been a change. Nien Nunb has regained control-and you are
going to help me escape."
"But then they'll chase after my ship. I have only minimal weapons
and-" "I'm offering you a great honor, Lilmit. Don't let me down."
Just then, shouts erupted from the far side of the docking bay. Han
Solo's brat Jaina, the Wookiee Lowbacca, the meddling Chief
Administrator Nien Nunb, and some troops from the Kessel guard forces
surged into the docking bay.
"There now. You see?" Em Teedee chirped. "I tracked his voice via
the station audio system! Didn't I tell you he would be here?"
"Czethros, halt!" one of the guard captains shouted.
Nien Nunb chattered something loud and harsh in Sullustan. Jaina and
Lowie powered up their lightsabers.
Lilmit squealed in terror and scrambled up the boarding ramp of his
ship faster than Czethros had ever seen a panicked rodent move.
The Black Sun lieutenant turned, knowing that Lilmit now had no choice
but to get them out of there.
But as he moved toward the hatch, hydraulics roared and the heavy door
slammed shut in his face. With a hissing sound, the pressure seal
engaged. Lights winked on, indicating that access was no longer
possible.
With a roar of rage, Czethros pounded on the outer door. "Lilmit, let
me in!" He heard only a distant squeak of terror. The Kessel guards
rushed forward, and Czethros knew he could not stand and argue with the
treacherous little coward.
Spotting an open turbolift to one side of the docking bay, he ran at
full speed. He was closer to it than his pursuers.
Some of the guards fired blaster bolts, only a few of them set on
,'stun." He dodged. Sparking bolts ricocheted off the insulated
walls.
Czethros dove headfirst into the turbolift and activated it.
The guards ran toward him, howling with frustration at losing him
/>
again. The door hissed shut. Czethros felt the floor drop out from
under him as he plunged down, down into the deepest mines.
"Where does that turbolift go?" Jaina shouted, her face flushed from
the exertion of the chase.
The Sullustan administrator jabbered an answer, and Em Teedee politely
translated. "Master Nien Nunb says that turbolift is a direct link to
the new andris spice processing facility. He calls it an 'express
tube."
It would appear that Czethros is heading directly down to the new
assembly lines and carbonite chambers."
"How do we catch up with him?" Jaina cried.
The Sullustan chittered, and Em Teedee said, "Because of the recent
addition of the carbonite-freezing facilities for the andris spice,
Master Nien Nunb had a second, freight-only turbolift installed to
handle the increased load."
Lowie roared and pointed to an adjacent turbolift. The mousy
administrator nodded.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Jaina was already rushing toward the
open doors.
Crowded with Nien Nunb, Lowbacca, Jaina, Em Teedee, and several guards,
the turbolift plummeted. Since this lift was designed primarily for
hauling cargo at high speed, the passengers were forced to hang on for
Under A Black Sun Trilogy Page 46
