Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [87]
At one time during the worst setback, when much of the superstructure remained dismantled, General Sulamar had stepped up behind him on the Orko SkyMine ship with a startling click of his bootheels. The baby-faced general stared out the observation windows. “Good work, Engineer,” he said grudgingly, as if Lemelisk had been waiting for such praise. “Carry on.”
Lemelisk had rolled his eyes and gone to find something to eat. Somehow, he had forgotten to eat lunch again.…
He chose the dead hours during the designated sleep period to continue his work with the three-dimensional crystal-lattice puzzle. It amused him with a challenge that stretched him almost—but not quite—to the limit of his mental abilities. When he had reached the critical point, focusing his entire world upon the problem and adjusting the parameters ever so delicately—he was interrupted, again.
The crystal puzzle sparkled down to random shards as Lemelisk flew into a rage at the Gamorrean guard. The brute let the insults bounce off his thick greenish skin and grunted only one word: Durga.
Lemelisk quashed his annoyance and followed the Gamorrean down the corridor to the communications center. Durga had sent a private message to him, knowing full well that it was the middle of the sleep period—but then, the Hutt had never shown much courtesy to others.
The guard left Lemelisk alone to face the flat screen projection of Durga the Hutt. Durga could have used the holoprojector, which transmitted a small three-dimensional image—but the Hutt did not like the 3-D system, because it made his enormous body look diminutive. He wanted the flatscreen, which projected his sloping, birthmarked face as a large and dominating visage. The speakers amplified his voice to a thunderous bellow.
“Lemelisk,” Durga said. “I know Sulamar is on his rest period, so I can speak to you without his interference. Those computer cores he obtained have arrived on Nar Shaddaa. I want you to come to the Smugglers’ Moon personally and check them out. No telling what sort of garbage he’s found for us. You must inspect them.”
“But—I can’t leave the construction site, not now!” Lemelisk said.
“Why?” Durga demanded. “Have there been problems?”
“No, no,” Lemelisk answered, holding his hands up. He hoped Durga couldn’t see the sudden film of cold sweat that sprang out on his skin. “Uh, everything’s going smoothly. The Taurill are hard workers, and very fast.”
“Good. I’m sending a ship to get you. You will make no contact with me. Just come to Nar Shaddaa and do your work. I am still trapped in an unpleasant diplomatic matter here.”
“When—” Lemelisk swallowed, his mind whirling, “um, when will you return to the asteroid belt, Lord Durga?”
“Soon,” the Hutt answered. “This visit of the Chief of State is tedious, but necessary. She has brought a fleet of warships, supposedly engaged in battle exercises, but I am no fool: she means to flaunt her power. That is throwing a bent hydrospanner into our talks, though I don’t believe the New Republic suspects anything.”
Durga suddenly growled and snapped back to the matter at hand. “Enough pleasantries! Get to the Smugglers’ Moon as soon as possible. Once my Darksaber is finished, I won’t need to be so disgustingly nice to these disgusting humans anymore.”
Lemelisk didn’t know the type of ship he boarded. It was a battered old craft that seemed heavily (and ineffectively) modified. It had been through numerous battles, judging from the blaster scars on its outer hull plates, and the swollen engines looked sufficient to power a craft ten times the size. It bore no registry markings.
The Twi’lek pilot said little, even to the human copilot. One of the alien’s head-tails was scarred and shriveled, as if it had been burned or partially shot off. Two Gamorrean guards accompanied Lemelisk onto the ship, saying little, throwing supplies on board, and grumbling during