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Soon, when humans were gone from the galaxy, the other alien races would share in a great deal of wealth, Hovrak mused. For now, though, they would have to bide their time, waiting until Nolaa’s plans came to fruition.

As he rounded to the port side of the ancient hauler, though, Hovrak’s daydreams were interrupted.

He came to an abrupt halt as he saw a small craft attached to the side of one of the tetrahedral cargo bays. An intruder! Someone had slipped through the Diversity Alliance’s orbital defenses!

Hovrak shouted to sound the alarm. Docking-bay workers poked their heads out to see the cause of the commotion. The wolfman marched around the grotto, shouting for guards.

Corrsk, the Trandoshan killer, as well as four more Gamorrean guards charged into the starship grotto. The guards drew their weapons, in search of something to shoot. With a bulky scaled paw, Corrsk knocked them aside, wanting to score the kill himself.

Hovrak roared, and the security forces came around to the back of the automated ore hauler.

The wolfman stood tall to glower at the unexpected ship attached to the hull. “That’s a passenger cruiser,” he said, and sniffed the air.

“A Hapan design, I believe. I want to get to the bottom of this.”

Corrsk looked suspicious, narrowing his huge slitted eyes. “Prepare your weapons,” he growled at the guards.

Hovrak marched over to an access ladder and climbed up to where the strange craft clung to the ore hauler. It had been magnetically attached.

“Let’s get inside,” he said, then stood back, not wanting to get his uniform dirty.

The Trandoshan pushed his way forward and found the access hatch. He worked the priority override designed into the airlock, and the Hapan cruiser opened with a hiss as the pressures equalized. Cold, stale air rich with human scent filled Hovrak’s nostrils. Bristling with anger, he sniffed, and sniffed again as he crawled inside.

The other guards drew their blasters as they dropped down into the pilot compartment, then marched toward the back passenger seats.

But they found no one. The ship was empty.

Hovrak went to the cockpit console and called up the data he could find.

The rest was encrypted. “This ship is called Rock Dragon, a small passenger cruiser … abandoned, it seems. Sent to us for salvage.” He curled back his lips to bare his fangs.

The Trandoshan poked through the ship, his nostrils flaring. “I smell humans,” he said. “Kill humans.”

But though Hovrak and the Gamorreans and Corrsk scoured the small passenger cruiser, they found no secret compartments—and no sign of any human passengers.

“Very well,” Hovrak said, “we’ll consider it a gift. Arrange to have the ship removed to the smallcraft bay. We can put it to use.” He climbed out of the hatch, then bellowed down to the other workers. “Go get the ryll cargo containers! We need to bring the ore up and get this ship launched again.”

The Gamorreans and Corrsk stalked across the grotto toward the smallcraft bay, where they could fetch a mechanic to disconnect the Rock Dragon and pilot the cruiser to safe storage.

Hovrak leaped down and went to report. Nolaa Tarkona ought to know about this ship. Perhaps she’d have some suggestions on how best to use it.

As he left the starship grotto, Hovrak saw the Trandoshan standing at the edge of the grotto.

Corrsk sniffed the air again, looking around suspiciously. Then he departed, leaving the Rock Dragon unattended and alone.

The cargo hatch of one of the tetrahedral holding bays cracked open just enough for a silvery ovoid to lift up on its microrepulsorjets.

Em Teedee rose above the edge of the cargo hauler, then performed a pirouette. His optical sensors glowed as he scanned the grotto.

“I see no one, Mistress Jaina. It seems we’re in the clear.”

“If we are clear,” Tenel Ka said, unseen in the storage bin, “we must move quickly.”

The cargo hatch popped entirely open. Jacen and Jaina scrambled out to stand on the stained hull of the ore hauler. They shucked their flexible environment suits and stowed their helmets and suits back in a corner of the storage container.

“Good thing we hid in here,” Jacen said, noting the open hatch of the Hapan passenger cruiser.

“I’ll bet they gave the Rock Dragon a pretty thorough search.”

Raynar clambered out, flushed and panting.

He brushed wrinkles from his drab Jedi jumpsuit.

“I don’t think Nolaa Tarkona is gullible enough to believe that story about finding the ship in space,” he said. “We should get far away from here before they come back to make a more complete search.”

“Too late,” Jaina said. They heard the thunder of machinery and the sound of approaching feet marching from deep underground catacombs.

“They’re going to get the ore hauler prepped and ready to launch again.”

The young Jedi scampered across the stone floor of the starship grotto and ducked into a dimly lit side tunnel. Em Teedee bobbed along behind them on his repulsors.

“Well, we did it,” Jacen whispered, turning around to clap a congratulatory hand on Tenel Ka’s shoulder. “We’re here. Now all we have to do is find Lowie.”

“Yes,” she said. “And now our danger is greater than ever. We are in the lair of the Diversity Alliance, and if they capture us we may not escape with our lives.”

7

Nolaa Tarkona strode through the carved rock corridors, brooking no delays as she descended toward the smallcraft bay. The Rock Dragon awaited, and she wanted to see it with her own rose-quartz eyes. Dark robes that hid most of her body swirled around her as she walked. Everyone who caught sight of her determined expression hurried to get out of her way.

Hovrak kept pace beside her, his uniform trim and free of stains. The wolfman took special care to protect the clothing from blood spatters during his violent meals. It was just one of the ways in which he expressed his pride at being her Adjutant Advisor.

“This way, Esteemed Tarkona,” he said. “I’ve chosen one of our Sullustan mechanics to fly the ship to where we can give it a thorough inspection.”

“Yes … be very thorough.” She frowned.

“Something about the convenient appearance of this craft makes me uneasy.”

Without turning, Nolaa scanned the tunnels behind her with the optical sensors embedded in the stump of her severed head-tail. It always paid to remain vigilant for spies or assassins. In the grotto light, her tattooed head-tail twitched, indicating her agitated state.

Nolaa was not nearly as attractive as her half sister Oola, but she had developed power instead of grace. Nolaa had learned to manipulate people.

She achieved her ends through inspired rhetoric.

Her half sister had died because of her beauty, kidnapped by the vile traitor Bib Fortuna and sold to Jabba the Hutt, who had killed her on a whim and fed her to the horrible rancor.

Nolaa had a much more important destiny, though. She would hold the future of entire worlds in her clawed hands. And she would bring about the end of the human race.

She and Hovrak emerged into the rocky chamber of the smallcraft bay.

With a whine of low-power engines the Rock Dragon floated in from the nearby starship grotto. Despite a few uncertain stutters and overcompensations at the helm, the pilot seemed to know what he was doing. Nolaa admired the skill of the large-eyed, mousy alien in the cockpit who maneuvered the Hapan craft into the open area of the low-ceilinged chamber. The other spectators stepped back to give Nolaa room.

The passenger cruiser bore a few exterior markings, mostly ornamental … but no serial number or special designation. Either its original owners didn’t care about such legal trivialities, she reflected, or they had something to hide.