“Practically speaking,” Zekk said, “we do have a mortal wound. Is it as bad as I think it is, Cilghal?”
The Calamarian ambassador examined the controls, worked them a bit, but the minisub made no headway. The engines rumbled and smoked. “Our vehicle is damaged,” she said. “Our air is limited, and we find ourselves trapped in a maze of blue ice.”
Zekk grunted in acknowledgment. He hadn’t wanted to be right about the damage to the sub.
“At least we got away from that monster,” Jacen said, always the optimist.
“Great,” Anja answered in a shaky voice. She looked very much on edge, very distressed. “But have you noticed that we’re stranded beneath the polar ice cap?”
15
Huddled in the wall channel of a dormant atmosphere factory, Jaina and Lowie set about determining the best way to fight Black Sun’s invasion force.
The rock walls all around them were cold, and the air was thin—but the environment would be far worse if they traveled up the long-rusted stairs to reach the open surface.
No matter how harsh the conditions they faced, though, Jaina knew they had to do something, anything to prevent Czethros from enacting his terrible schemes. The New Republic depended on them.
Lowie looked out of the tunnel entrance into the shadows of the broad pit that rose vertically toward the surface. In the past, the miners on Kessel had constructed gigantic factories to chemically release gases frozen in the rocks and spew them upward to thicken the atmosphere. But such extravagant efforts had been only a temporary solution, and in recent years the small planet had rapidly reverted to its natural state of frigid cold with a rarefied atmosphere.
Next to the rock wall, the Wookiee took a deep breath. Fine threads of frost laced his ginger fur, and the lanky young Jedi looked miserable—but a fire of determination burned in his golden eyes. He growled.
Jaina understood much of the Wookiee language, but Em Teedee translated anyway. “Master Lowbacca suggests that our primary mission should be to cause a serious malfunction to the sophisticated transmitter Czethros intends to use.”
“Agreed,” Jaina said, looking at Lowie. “If we get rid of that transmitter, Czethros can’t send his signal. His coordinated plan fails.”
“Yes, but Mistress Jaina,” Em Teedee chimed in, “however are we to disable such a large piece of equipment?”
Jaina shrugged and then smiled at the shiny little translating droid. “First thing is to find some sort of explosives…. Then we may just need you to sneak in there, Em Teedee.”
The floating little droid’s electronic squawk reverberated through the tunnels.
Each of the control rooms in the spice mine catacombs was sealed with a heavy door, code-locked and computer-controlled. Lowie used his programming expertise, with an occasional assist from the little droid, to crack the codes and force their way into one of the equipment lockers.
It wasn’t difficult to find a supply of shaped explosives of the sort used for blasting mine tunnels. Kessel was, after all, an industrial excavation area. Lowie found small packaged cylinders marked with red hazard labels. He hefted them in his hands and looked over at Em Teedee’s microrepulsorjets. He gave a growl of satisfaction.
“You can handle these, Em Teedee,” Jaina said. “They don’t weigh much.”
“Oh, my!” the little droid replied. “But I’ve never carried explosives before.”
“Not much different from a rock,” Jaina said encouragingly, “except that these’ll explode if you bump against anything.”
“I appreciate your support, Mistress Jaina, but I find your optimism … unsettling.” She patted the floating silvery ovoid as it hovered in the air.
The tunnels were empty. The spice mine loading docks were shut down, denying access to any cargo ships, since Black Sun had taken over. Czethros could not keep up this charade for long, but security threats against Kessel oftentimes required such random crackdowns, and the merchants waiting in orbit would just have to wait longer. No complaints or unusual-occurrence reports would be filed for at least another standard day.
Czethros would no doubt launch his widespread takeover before then. Therefore, Jaina and her friends needed to complete their sabotage before that could happen.
Most of the dusty tunnels were silent and abandoned. The actual numbers in the Black Sun occupation fleet were quite small, but they had placed armed guards in key positions. Nien Nunb and his loyal followers had been sealed in the slave barracks left over from the days when Kessel had been a prison facility. Many other workers, along with a few unfortunate cargo ship pilots, were being kept under guard behind force fields. It was an unstable situation, and Jaina knew it wouldn’t take much to turn the tables.
But first, they had to get rid of that transmitter.
They climbed up through air shafts, avoiding lift platforms for fear of whom they might encounter. Finally, they reached the upper main loading dock on the surface. Access doors would be closed but not locked. No one in their right mind would go for a casual walk on the surface of Kessel.
According to maps and diagrams of the spice mine and its comm station, they had a good idea where Kessel’s sophisticated transmitter—currently being modified by Black Sun—must be located. The powerful antenna was large … and probably well guarded. Two human-sized intruders could not possibly remain hidden as they made their way across the bleak, rugged surface.
But a small silvery droid might just be able to slip in undetected….
The ships in the cargo bay sat quiet and empty, as if the place was abandoned. Jaina recognized one of the familiar craft, though. A small man worked furtively beneath the engines.
“Lilmit’s still around!” Jaina said. While the other pilots were taken prisoner, Lilmit had probably been allowed to remain here because he worked for Black Sun.
The strange man looked up, and his eyes went wide as he noticed the Wookiee and the young woman. The hapless smuggler raised his webbed hands in panic. “Oh, no! But you’re gone. Your ship left. I saw the docking records. Go away—there’s nothing more I can tell you.”
“Great,” Jaina muttered. “Now we’ll have to take him hostage.”
Lilmit wailed. “Please, I didn’t have anything to do with this. I just wanted to get off Kessel before the Black Sun takeover. Czethros will be furious if he sees that I’m still here.”
Jaina looked at Lowie, wondering how they would ever manage to keep Lilmit quiet. If the little man caused a scene and got them noticed, they were sunk. But instead, the frantic smuggler ran into his ship to hide and sealed the hatch.
“I do believe our diminutive friend has panicked,” Em Teedee said.
“Let’s hope he stays quiet for just a little while,” Jaina said.
Lowie growled and gestured toward the outer doors of the cargo bay. If they could complete their mission quickly and hide again in the tunnels, they wouldn’t be found, no matter what Lilmit did. Jaina suspected that the terrified smuggler would not want to call anyone’s attention to his presence. But then again, the little pilot’s fear of Czethros might just prompt him to report the presence of two unauthorized young Jedi….
Lowie chuffed something again, and the translating droid replied, “Indeed, Master Lowbacca, ‘What are we waiting for?’”
Together, Jaina and Lowie reached the door, grabbed a pair of breath masks from a locker, and slapped them over their faces. The slow trickle of oxygen would be enough to keep them alive in the harsh environment, though the freezing temperatures and the crackling dry air would take its toll before long. They didn’t have much time.
Jaina unsealed the hatch, and they passed through. Gusts of wind roared after them as air flowed out of the pressurized cargo bay. They stood out on the bleak, white alkaline desert of Kessel’s surface.