Star Wars_ Death Star - Michael Reaves [55]
Forewarned was forearmed, after all.
24
MACHINE TOOL STORAGE UNIT ALPHA-FOUR, CARGO TRANSPORT KJB-87, APPROACHING THE DEATH STAR
The smart thing for Ratua to do would be to stay in his crate until it was off-loaded and safely in a storage area somewhere. But after a couple of hours, he couldn’t stand the cramped monotony anymore, and so he undogged the hatch and cautiously emerged.
Save for the droids, which were all powered down for the flight, he was alone. The ship was on programmed remote control, so it was no risk at all for him to peep through a viewport to see what was out there.
He’d heard about the battle station, of course, even observed it once or twice through a dioptric scope he’d managed to scrounge from a guard. But he wasn’t prepared for this. Though only about half finished, the Death Star still loomed like a skeletal monster. He had no idea how far away it was; the lack of an atmosphere to blur distant objects rendered it stark and vivid, seemingly close enough to touch. The scale was unbelievable, and he wouldn’t have been able to tell how large it truly was save for the Star Destroyers and massive cargo ships that hung about the construction site, looking like so many children’s toys compared with the station itself.
Amazing.
Ratua thought, Should be no trouble at all finding places to get lost in on something that size.
He went back to his crate, latched himself back in, and began masticating some grain flakes.
CIVILIAN TRANSPORT VESSEL PORTMINIAN, APPROACHING THE DEATH STAR
Rodo whistled. “Check it out,” he said.
Memah moved to stand next to the much taller human. “Whoa!”
“Big sodder,” Rodo agreed. He pointed. “That’s a Star Destroyer moving off over there, see?”
“What is it? Some kind of troop transport?”
Rodo shook his head. “Battle station’s my guess. Too big for a troop carrier; you could probably stuff a couple million stormtroopers into that thing with room left over for a fleet of battleships, once they get it done—more than you’d need for any one Rebel outpost.”
“But why is it so big?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. I’d guess it packs a load of firepower.”
“You think that’s where we’re going?”
“Bet big credits to boiled chork it is.”
Memah stared at the huge, unfinished spheroid, already bristling with armament. Once completed, it would probably be able to blow ships, asteroids, maybe even entire moons, into cosmic gravel. She felt her lekku bristle in nervous anticipation.
Well, she’d hoped for a locale in which to ply her trade that would be safe, hadn’t she?
“Be careful what you wish for,” she murmured. Rodo glanced at her, but said nothing.
The station, already huge, kept growing larger as the transport approached.
MILITARY SHUTTLE NGC-1710, APPROACHING THE DEATH STAR
Nova had seen the holorecordings, but they didn’t even begin to give you the real scope of the construction site. The blasted thing was huge, big as a moon! He’d heard the scut, naturally, the military commvine was hot with it: the Death Star was going to carry an armada of ships, it would have more guns than an Imperial fleet, there were super-secret weapons that could pop Star Destroyers like soap bubbles, burn a continent down to the bedrock, trigger solar flares, and so forth. But he’d figured most of that for jaw-wag that wasn’t worth the air it took to repeat it. Now, however, seeing the place as the shuttle drew nearer, he revised his opinion. No way the Empire would spend this kind of effort and money if this thing didn’t have a big trick it could pull off.
One thing for sure: it promised to be far more exciting than herding prisoners around on a tropical pesthole like Despayre.
It looked like interesting times lay ahead.
25
CIVILIAN TRANSPORT VESSEL NORDIEUS, APPROACHING HANGAR BAY 1271, DEATH STAR
Commander Atour Riten—a rank that meant less than nothing to him—leaned back in his seat and looked at the viewer inset into the bulkhead next to him. My, he thought. It certainly is … big …
Of course,