Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [63]
Luke gave his son a curious look. “How do you figure?”
Ben sat down on the trough beside Vestara. “Mayor Snaplaunce didn’t think Wei was the kind of guy who’d mutate drochs to unleash them on the galaxy. Let’s assume he was right. So how did all the evidence show that he was doing that? Well, first, there wasn’t that much evidence. Just enough to get us up and running. It might have been planted. Let’s say someone grabs Wei, kills him, flies his body out here in his landspeeder to have an authentic-looking record of the trip on his landspeeder memory. The killer dumps the body and goes back, then backs up the memory. Fiddles with the files, maybe, which is why Sel said they were a mess. And he—the killer, I mean—leaves that diagram for us to find.”
Luke thought about it. “That’s why the diagram was hand-drawn. Whoever drew it didn’t know how to use the graphics capabilities of Wei’s computer. Perhaps any computer. Which suggests it was an Oldtimer. And another one, one without any artistic ability, printed out the text accompanying the diagram in the first place.” He sighed, vexed at himself. “That had to be what Snaplaunce saw but wasn’t sure about. I saw it, too, and didn’t recognize it. There were no other hand-drawn diagrams in all those printouts. Just the one that implicated Wei.”
Vestara nodded glumly. “So they knew we, or at least you, would be coming out here to find Wei, which set you up for an attack by Ship. But they had to know that you’d be taking Snaplaunce’s shuttle. Its electronics began to fail the exact instant we were talking to Koval Station …”
“So either Snaplaunce was in on the conspiracy, or he has a habit of lending out his shuttle to important visitors, and the habit was well known.” Luke felt as unhappy as Ben and Vestara looked.
“Dad, how long do you think it will take us to repair the shuttle? And how much food and water are aboard?”
“Two days’ rations for one average vigorous human. As for repairs … I don’t know. When the sun goes down, we’ll go out there and do an evaluation. We can jury-rig some heaters and run them off the shuttle’s power. Let’s hope the saboteurs left the tools in storage alone.” Luke didn’t bother adding what the two teenagers doubtless were already aware of: The saboteurs had known what they were doing. Yes, the three of them had survived Ship’s attack, but they were still stranded out here for who knew how long. This was time the saboteurs could spend productively. Maybe harvesting drochs, maybe helping Abeloth subvert the Theran Listeners. Maybe both.
Something else occurred to him. “Though we do have one communications possibility they might not know about.”
Ben perked up. “Which is?”
“Communing with the tsils.”
ABOARD FIREBORN, HUTT SPACE
FROM THE OUTSIDE, GRUNEL OVIN REFLECTED, CC-7700 FRIGATES were impressive things. Roughly triangular, evoking the decades-old dread of Star Destroyers but more rakishly arrowhead-shaped, they were fierce of appearance. It was a bit of an illusion; lightly armed and armored, equipped with a gravity-well generator, the frigate’s main role was one of support, such as by positioning itself along a specific hyperspace route at a specific time and dragging a specific target out of hyperspace for capture.
But lack of firepower did not spoil its good looks. The running lights of this particular frigate, an aging ship of the Galactic Alliance Navy, gleamed against the darkness of deep space and outshone visible stars. And its turbolasers flashed brilliantly as it fired warning shots—such as it had when compelling Grunel’s transport to heave to and prepare to be boarded.
From the inside, especially within the brig, the ship wasn’t so impressive. Floors and other surfaces were not maintained at the level of sanitary cleanliness preferred by the GA’s more hard-nosed naval officers. Crew uniforms were not pressed to stiff, crisp lines. Grunel had seen salutes thrown