“But those people were under my protection,” Han insisted. “I’m from the New Republic. I trusted you to recognize my diplomatic immunity.”
“And we are not harming you or your close friends, General Solo,” Elis said. “You personally have caused us no damage. Ynos and his murderous farmers have done us great harm, though, and we will not treat them like visiting royalty.” A storm seemed to pass across Elis’s face, but he brought his emotions under control. “It was only out of courtesy and respect for your position that we did not execute every one of those villagers as they arrived.”
“That’s something at least,” Han said, considering Elis through narrowed eyes.
“We’ve seen the cropland where you planted all those burrowing detonators. Those weapons take their toll on innocent people, as well as fighters,” Jaina said. “I’d call that an act of terrorism, not a brave military strike.”
“There are no innocents in the farming villages,” Elis said. “I don’t know what lies they’ve told you. Ynos tries to make himself appear helpless and pitiable, but he has the blood of hundreds of miners on his hands.”
“Ah. Aha. Yet he himself stepped on one of your burrowing detonators,” Tenel Ka said coldly. “That is how he lost his leg.”
“His heart was dead long before that,” Elis answered. “For many years we had a booming business here. My mountain workers labored hard to excavate the various ores and crystals from the rich mineral veins. We still sell whatever we find to offworld traders, smugglers, anyone brave enough to come to this world and take the meager riches we have to offer. In exchange, they bring us supplies and equipment and food.”
“And weapons, too,” Zekk pointed out. “We stopped one of those shipments.”
“We must protect ourselves,” Elis answered, standing at the doorway to the stone chambers. “We have a right to do that, don’t we? The farmers won’t trade with us anymore. We would starve if it weren’t for the smugglers. The farmers once provided us with what we needed, and we did the same for them.
“But because the bloodthirsty rebellion brought its message here to Anobis, beyond where even the Emperor cared to look, everything came crashing down. Anobis could have remained neutral, stayed out of all the fighting, but the farmers had to choose a side. They stopped trading with us. I ask you, what good does politics do any of us, if we’re barely managing to survive from day to day?”
He gestured for them to come with him out into the dimly lit tunnels.
“Come, we have something to show you,” Elis said. “You need to see this.”
Han went first. Zekk took Jaina’s hand and followed, with the others close behind. They walked through stone corridors, excavated tunnels that jerked left and right, curving sideways and down as the miners followed veins of precious minerals. As the miners worked the mountains, it looked as though they left open chambers where new families built houses into the sides of the rough walls using rubble and tailings from the mine mortared together.
Finally the group reached a place where temporary support beams were hammered into place. Sealant foam had been sprayed on the ceilings and walls, and crossbeams stretched from one side of the tunnel to the other. Past several posted DANGER signs, Zekk could see that glowlamps had been crushed and the ceiling had fallen down in broken slabs.
The debris was pale and fresh, and the air smelled dusty. Zekk heard tiny pebbles trickling down as the rockfall settled.
Elis gestured with a broad grimy hand. His fingernails were broken, as if he did most of his work by grasping the rock with his bare fingers.
“This was one of our largest mining chambers, our most active vein. Numerous tunnels led to this place—and now what do you see?”
“Just rubble,” Zekk said.
“You don’t want to see what’s buried in that rubble,” Elis said, his voice hollow. “An entire mining crew was in there. Sixteen men and women, working hard at excavating. There are many tunnels like this….”
“Was it a rock slide?” Jaina asked.
“No. The farming villagers did this,” Elis said. “Commandos come in the night. They make their way through the forest, wait for sundown, then race up the pathway and into our mine access shafts. Their sonic punchers are quite effective. They slip them inside active tunnels, hiding them in the shadows behind stones or at floor level in cracks in the rocks where no one can see them. Then they set an activation timer and flee back into the night like the cowards they are.”
“What are sonic punchers?” Jacen asked.
“Motion-activated grenades,” Elis said, his lips curling, his teeth pressed so tightly together that Zekk thought they might crack at any moment. “It’s not enough for the farming villagers just to destroy our tunnels or hinder our work. These weapons are more insidious than that. A sonic puncher waits until someone comes by. When it explodes, a person gets killed. Every time.”
He nodded toward the rubble pile; faint pale dust sifted into his dark hair. “As a fresh mining crew entered this grotto, their movements set off one of the sonic punchers. The trigger could have been the sound of their laughter, or the songs they sang as they went to work.
“The sonic blast cracked and shattered the rock walls and the ceiling. The entire crew was buried—crushed and battered to death under the collapse of the cave.
“We can never go into this area again. It’s too unstable. We do not even dare to excavate the grotto to retrieve their bodies.” Elis drew a long shuddering breath. “The miners must rest here, buried in the tunnels where they worked. Over the ages they will become part of the mountain themselves.
“Perhaps by then, there will be an end to this war.” The mining leader’s voice was bleak.
Seeing the anger in the man’s eyes, Zekk wondered.
18
When all the prisoners, including Han Solo and the young Jedi Knights, had been separated by Elis and the miners, Anja slipped away.
She saw an opportunity too good to ignore. She also knew exactly the person who could best take advantage of the circumstances.
Protas, the younger brother of the mining leader, was a bitter and grim-faced youth, barely nineteen. He had a wispy, pale beard and dusty skin from spending most of his life inside the stone tunnels, working his fingers until they bled among the rocks. But the intense young man also made frequent unofficial excursions down to the forests and croplands, where he planted traps to do his part in the fight against the farming villagers.
Now, with Anja’s help, he could strike a blow the farmers would never forget.
When one of the mining crews took a break, Anja trotted down through the tunnels asking questions until she was finally directed to Elis’s younger brother. She gestured for him to join her in one of the shadowed rocky alcoves. “Protas, I need to speak to you.”
He raised his eyebrows. They had been children together, and if Anja had stayed on Anobis, they might well have gotten married. But she had slipped off to Ord Mantell to join some band of smugglers.
Because of their past, though, Anja knew Protas would listen to what she had to say.
“We now hold all of the farmers from one village captive inside the tunnels,” she said.
Protas grinned. “I know. What more could we ask for? You led them right to us. Thank you, Anja.”
“I’ll tell you what more you could ask for.” Anja smiled, moving closer to him. The skin under her leather headband itched, but she ignored it. Her voice was breathless as she spilled out her plan. “Their village is abandoned now. They left it completely unoccupied. We can go there tonight, slip in and burn everything down. Not only have we captured them, we can destroy everything they hold dear.”