Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [123]
Hara gave him a brief glance. “Instructions, sir?”
“Find a landing spot on the eastern ridge, about two kilometers from the camp overlook. Maintain full stealth mode. Ground as softly as possible in case they have seismic sensors. Fardan, bring up known geological facts about this dirtball and, if relevant, use the sonic countermeasures to simulate tectonic or volcanic activity on landing so that any noise we make suggests natural activity.”
Five minutes later, Dei stepped out of a darkened air lock and onto the starlit sands of Klatooine. His garments, though not a match for those most prevalent in the encampment, were in similar colors and were as voluminous as the desert robes to be seen there.
He trotted the two klicks to the top of the ridge, slowing down and becoming more cautious the last half kilometer. But although his sensor scan had shown some guards stationed along the ridge approaches, he had chosen a spot that had no reasonable path of descent to the camp and consequently had no guards. Careful in case his portion of ridge was in danger of collapsing, he moved as close as he dared to the edge of the ridge itself, then went prone and set up his macrobinoculars. They were larger than an ordinary set, had a tripod for stability, and had a massive amount of storage memory so that they could record what they saw.
It took him only a few moments to find the Hapan landing craft and zoom in on its surroundings.
If there had been a party there to meet it, the party was already aboard or dispersed. Now he could see only guards, more than half of them female, all of them unusually attractive, stationed around the craft. At the nearest verge of tents there stood observers who, from their gestures and movements, were clearly discussing the Hapan craft or its inhabitants. Most were Klatooinian or human; there were a fair number of other species and several droids.
The camp was active. There were fires lit, apparently to cook evening meals and provide comfort from the sudden chill of desert nights. Dei’s chrono, adjusted to this planet’s cycle, indicated it was early evening.
Time passed. Dei remained patient. There was a beauty to surveillance, to remaining perfectly still while the satellites of one’s prey orbited, departed, returned, and offered clues to the prey’s weaknesses. Dei wished he could persuade his subordinates and family of the elegance and usefulness of patience, but they all seemed so desperate for change and immediate gratification.
Groups of onlookers in the vicinity of the landing craft wandered off, finding cookfires or tent interiors. All but one group, which remained in place, seemingly as patient and watchful as Dei himself. He trained his macrobinoculars on them and zoomed in for maximum gain.
Five humans or humanoids, two droids. Four of the humanoids were the size of adult humans, one much smaller. The droids were recognizably a dome-topped astromech and a protocol droid. All the humanoids wore the desert clothing sported by most in the camp. The adults were armed for engagement—high-end blaster rifles and the suggestion, under their robes, of armor, holsters, and pouches.
The smallest humanoid had some sort of animal sitting at its side. At this range, Dei couldn’t make out its features or even determine whether it was male or female, but he believed, from its movements and occasional restlessness, that it was a child rather than an adult member of a small species.
Now a group of perhaps a dozen individuals descended the landing craft’s boarding ramp, talking among themselves. They moved off into the camp.
And still the group of five humanoids and two droids waited. Interested, Dei continued to watch them.
Another fifteen minutes passed. Then, as if a signal had been received over a comlink, they started forward, heading straight toward