Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 08_ Ascension - Christie Golden [184]
Lowbacca turned to Raynar and growled a question.
“Hard to say,” Raynar answered. “But a week is probably long enough.”
“And if it isn’t, I have more counteragent aboard the Long Trek,” Tekli said. “We can always return and take another injection.”
Lowbacca glanced over his shoulder, looking back toward the distant ridge where they had landed the scoutship, then grumbled unhappily.
“I quite agree,” C-3PO replied. “That’s a very long walk, indeed. My actuators simply won’t tolerate it.”
“You won’t need to,” Raynar said. “Pheromones don’t affect droids. You can just wait with Thuruht.”
“Alone?” C-3PO objected. “I’m quite sure that’s not what Princess Leia had in mind when she offered to send me along.”
“Probably not,” Raynar agreed.
As they entered the channel at the base of the dust-mountain, Raynar realized that the scale of the place was even larger than it had appeared from the landspeeder. The channel stretched two hundred meters to the gate, and its walls were easily seventy meters high. The archway at the far end was large enough to accommodate a Lancer frigate, and the enormous support columns flanking the entrance rose a hundred meters before vanishing into an overhang of wind-packed dust.
The figures on the pillars were largely hidden by the dust. On the left-hand column, all that could be seen were a pair of sharp-taloned feet dangling beneath the overhang, tangled in the coils of what was either a serpent or a tentacle. On the right-hand column, even less could be seen, only a single wing dipping out of the dust, wrapped in what was either a length of vine or rope.
The air grew dank and humid as they drew within two dozen steps of the archway. Raynar sensed the fused Force-presence of a group of Killiks loitering in the passages near the entrance, and his pulse started to pound in his ears.
“Don’t worry,” Tekli said, stepping to his side. “We’re here with you.”
Lowbacca added his own reassurances, promising to drag Raynar out by his feet at the first hint he was becoming a Joiner again. The words were offered in kindness, but Raynar found them to be little comfort. There was something to fear. If becoming a Joiner again was the only way to learn what Thuruht knew of Abeloth and the Celestials, then become a Joiner he would. And he knew the same was true of Lowbacca and Tekli. The Order needed the intelligence they had been sent to gather far more than it needed them.
The trick, of course, would be making sure that at least one of them stayed sane enough to report back to the Council.
Together, the Jedi stepped through the archway into the cool darkness of the ruins. Raynar heard the clatter of approaching insects, and a moment later he began to feel their antennae brushing over him. They were careful to avoid the prosthetic arm, however. Killiks did not like artificial body parts. The devices blurred the line between living being and droid, and Killiks did not like droids. Droids were alien and never to be trusted, because droids never became Joiners.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Raynar found himself facing a trio of Killiks with mottled-blue exoskeletons and four delicate arms. They had the same heart-shaped heads as their giant hive-mates outside, but they were only about one-and-a-half meters tall and lacked the huge mandibles of the guardians. When they saw Raynar studying them, all three folded their arms against their thoraxes and dipped their heads.
“Ruur ubb unuwul burur,” said one. “Uru rur rruru bub.”
“Thuruht welcomes the wise UnuThul and his followers to the Celestial Palace,” C-3PO translated. “The hive is honored that he has chosen to rejoin the Kind through them.”
Lowbacca let out a quick growl, informing Thuruht that they weren’t there to join anything.
“Are you certain you wish me to translate that, Jedi Lowbacca?” C-3PO asked. “You’re actually being rather—”
Thuruht interrupted with a short thrum, and the droid turned to face the insect.