Before the Storm - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [52]
“For now, Colonel,” Lando said. “I just hope whoever or whatever’s inside that thing isn’t busy making plans to destroy it to keep it out of our hands. That’s part of your universe of possibilities, too. I hope you won’t forget it.”
Pakkpekatt’s expression was unreadable. “I will ask the communications officer to allot what slack time there may be in our HoloNet queue to your staff. Perhaps that will allow you to make faster progress.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” Lando said with courtly politeness. “That’d be a step in the right direction.”
* * *
“What a mess,” Lieutenant Norda Proi said, studying the high-resolution scan of space directly ahead of the Steadfast. The three-D display showed more than twelve thousand objects, from hundreds no larger than a stormtrooper’s combat boot to one that promised to be the aft third of an Imperial Star Destroyer. “Must have been one wild party.”
Captain Oolas nodded. “We’ll be here a month, at least. Where would you like to start, Lieutenant?”
“The big piece of cake, of course,” Proi said, pointing. “But we can launch droids on the way in, and let them start picking up the crumbs.”
For nearly a year the fleet hauler Steadfast had traced a solitary course through some of the most famous regions of what had once been Imperial space. Known in Fleet Office slang as a junker, Steadfast had served in the Battle of Endor, in the defense of Coruscant against Admiral Thrawn, and in the pursuit of the Knight Hammer.
But with the cessation of hostilities, the four oldest fleet haulers had been recalled—at the request of the Intelligence Section—from the combat groups they usually served. Equipped with dozens or specialized droids and with Intelligence officers supplementing the usual crew, the junkers were reborn as scavengers. Their mission orders took them to the coordinates of major battles between the Empire and its enemies, where they searched through the wreckage for objects or information of potential value.
“Do you think we’re the first ones here this time?” asked Captain Oolas.
Norda Proi studied the spectroscopic analysis of the objects being tracked. “Just possibly so, Captain. I don’t want to get my hopes up, though. We’ll know pretty quickly when we board the wreck if the mice have been here before us.”
Operation Flotsam had been launched when military artifacts, Rebel and Imperial, began showing up on the private collectors’ market. When further investigation showed that the artifacts had not been stolen but had been salvaged from battle zones by smugglers and other entrepreneurs, the Senate acted with unusual speed and unanimity.
The Historic Battle Site Protection Act established more than two dozen restricted areas and claimed ownership of all combat debris everywhere in the name of the Alliance War Museum. But security, not history, was the prime concern. Many observers credited the explosion of a thermal detonator in a wealthy residential zone on Givin and a Rudrig crime ring’s use of an Imperial interrogator droid on a kidnap victim with putting the fear into the Senate.
But a declaration of ownership by Coruscant only made the traffic in artifacts illegal—it didn’t end it. That took gunship patrols through the restricted areas, the arrest of the notorious Huttese smuggler Uta, and the seizure of weapons and other exotic collectibles from the upper-class customers of a well-known Imperial City art dealer. Even at that, the arrival of Steadfast had twice sent would-be poachers running, and the debris fields it had surveyed so far had all seemed picked over.
“I have a positive identification on the wreck, Lieutenant,” a junior Intelligence officer called out. “It’s the I-class Star Destroyer Gnisnal, our registry number SD-489. Reported destroyed by internal explosions during the Imperial evacuation of Narth and Ihopek. The report is from Alliance sources.”
“All right,” said Norda Proi, nodding. “Let’s move in.”
First aboard the wreck were half a dozen scanning and monitoring droids, which jetted across to it on their own power while the Steadfast held station