The four looked just like any other Wookiees dressed appropriately for work in the high-tech factory. They were tall and powerful and carried no visible weapons. The newcomers punched in the correct access codes and passed into the high-security tower that rose high above the other tree platforms. Their timing was perfect for the morning shift, change.
When they crossed the checkpoint station into the control tower, the four passed an electrostatic air-filtration grid. The images of the four Wookiees flickered in the unseen discharge, just for an instant, before their appearance restored itself.
No one noticed.
The real Wookiees who had been assigned to the next shift lay stunned inside a small supply chamber in an outer storage platform. The Wookiees on duty, weary from hours of monitoring the ships that came and went from the computer facility, were happy to finish their shift and return home. They signed off their stations and handed over the equipment to the new crew, who gruffly acknowledged them in synthesized Wookiee grunts and growls.
The earlier crew departed, leaving the facility’s control points, the lockout systems, and Kashyyyk’s satellite defense functions in the hands of the newcomers.
One of the new Wookiees sealed the control tower door, pulled out a concealed blaster, then melted the alarm systems and intruder detection devices. Sparks flew. Metal and plasteel dripped, smoldering black. All four Wookiees then touched their waists, switching off the hidden holographic generators belted there. Their images shimmered, dissolving away, to reveal a commando team from the Shadow Academy.
“The holo-disguises worked perfectly,” Zekk said, brushing at his leather armor and straightening his crimson-lined cape, happy to be himself again.
The stormtrooper stationed at the door said, “Alarm systems disengaged. No problems here.”
The other two infiltrators, the Nightsisters Tamith Kai and Vonnda Ra, stood before the complex computer systems. The Wookiee-level panels forced them to reach up to use the controls. Vonnda Ra craned her neck to examine the readouts and identify systems.
Tamith Kai brooded, mulling over various details. She clasped her long-nailed hands together. “This plan must proceed according to schedule,” she said. “If it does, it looks as if success will be ours.”
“We’ll succeed,” Zekk said confidently. “I won’t disappoint Master Brakiss.”
Vonnda Ra worked at two of the control panels, studying keyboards and diagnostics. Satisfied, the Nightsister slipped an insulated vibroblade from her belt sheath and flicked on the humming knife. She bent down under the panels and slashed sideways to sever the power cords. Bright sparks spat out, followed by curling white electrical smoke.
She backed away, covering her nose against the acrid smell, then stood up straight again, looking satisfied. “Kashyyyk’s orbital defense systems have been permanently disabled.”
Zekk nodded at the destroyed control panel, his green eyes flashing. “Sure looks permanent to me.”
“You’re in command of this mission, Zekk,” Tamith Kai said, plugging a hand-held translator into the communications console. “Don’t you think it’s time you transmitted your signal to lure those Jedi brats here, where we can take care of them?” The Nightsister looked insufferably pleased with herself.
Zekk swallowed, his mind whirling. He had known this moment would come, and he had to face it.
“Do I sense hesitation?” Tamith Kai snapped.
“No,” he answered, “just working out the proper wording for the message. They must be intrigued and concerned … and convinced.”
Zekk hovered over the communications console, pondering his words, then punched them into the translator that would convert them to the appropriate Wookiee dialect and send a text message with the highest priority to where Jacen and Jaina were staying with their friends.
If he worded it correctly, he knew the twins would come.
Back in the Wookiee home high in the trees, Jacen did his best to keep up with his friends in the fast-paced computer skill game. But the other players—Lowie, Sirra, and Tenel Ka—far outmatched his reflexes. Jaina, meanwhile, had gone with Chewbacca to work on their damaged ship.
The friends sat at the four sides of a rectangular control grid, each with one hand on the small, flexible motion sensors that guided tiny laserprojected simulations of space fighters. They fought a miniature reenactment of the original Death Star battle.
Lowie and Sirra flew fast X-wing fighters, while Jacen and Tenel Ka were stuck with flanking defensive ships, sluggish old Y-wings. The computer did its best to pursue them all, its simulated TIE fighters firing repeatedly, while enormous turbolaser cannons emplaced in the Death Star trench crisscrossed space with deadly fire-lines.
Jacen was good at target shooting; he and Jaina had often used the Millennium Falcon’s quad laser cannons to blast chunks of space debris out of Coruscant orbit. But Lowie and his sister were more intimately familiar with complex computer games, and Tenel Ka had the finely honed reflexes of a warrior from Dathomir.
Jacen’s fingers flew across his motion sensor, banking his Y-wing—but a TIE fighter clung close to his rear engine pods. Jacen spun about. “Hey, get off my back,” he cried. By sheer luck, the TIE fighter crossed into one of the turbolaser blasts from the trench guns, conveniently saving Jacen.
Anxious to divert attention from his so-so performance in the game, Jacen tried to distract the other players in the most obvious way. Between spins and banks and firing, he told a joke.
“Hey, guys, do you know what sound Whiphids make when they kiss?”
“I have neither seen nor heard Whiphids kiss,” Tenel Ka said.
“Master Lowbacca says he’s certain he would never wish to,” Em Teedee said.
“Come on,” Jacen interrupted. “It’s a joke. What sound do Whiphids make when they kiss?” He paused a second, cocking an eyebrow. “Ouch!”
Tenel Ka looked perplexed, and Lowie groaned, but Sirra endeared herself forever to Jacen by chuffing uproariously at the joke. Then, after only a moment, Sirra sent her holographic fighter ahead of his with redoubled effort.
Little green lances of laser fire shot toward him, but he managed to roll his Y-wing and avoided getting himself blasted. Another Imperial ship clung to his tail, scoring hits and causing increasing damage as it came inexorably closer. Suddenly the pesky TIE fighter erupted in a tiny puff of an explosion with spangles of computer-imaged debris as Tenel Ka brought her Y-wing fighter to the rescue.
“It appeared that you needed some help, Jacen,” she said.
“I did—thanks.” He and Tenel Ka flew side by side as they followed close behind the streaking X-wings piloted by Lowie and Sirra. Their target approached, a small thermal exhaust port just waiting for them to drop a proton torpedo inside so they could blow up the horrendous superweapon Grand Moff Tarkin had built and—
The comm system chimed with a high-priority signal. Sirra reached out to pause the game, freezing the fightercraft images in position over the grid. Lowie hurried to receive the message, already blinking his golden eyes at the sudden emergency announcement that appeared on his screen.
Jacen and Tenel Ka went to look as Lowie bellowed in alarm. “Master Lowbacca, what is it? Let me see,” Em Teedee said. “How can you expect me to translate if you won’t let me read the text?”
Lowie punched a button so that Jacen and Tenel Ka could see the message. The comm system translated the words on the screen back into Basic.
“Just a fragment,” Jacen said, his blood growing cold. “Something interrupted the transmission.”
“It appears serious,” Tenel Ka said.
Jacen read, “Emergency … injured at computer fabrication facility … need your help … please come right away. We—” He frowned, feeling his heart start to pound. “But who sent it? Who could it be from?”