Star Wars_ Millennium Falcon - James Luceno [92]
Zenn Bien couldn't imagine a more dreary duty than Nilash Impound.
Questioned, patted down, and scanned, they had just been admitted to the inspection area when Quip's inside man, a young raven-haired warrant officer, separated them from the pack, ostensibly to double-check their identity documents. In the act of examining their travel permits, the Imperial slipped Zenn Bien a flimsiplast map.
Zenn Bien glanced at it, committing it to memory, and slid it back.
“That fast?” the Imperial said.
“Want to test me?”
He sniggered. “We could sure use some of you folk.”
“Sullustans don't clone as easily as humans.”
“I'm sure that's true.” The Imperial returned the documents. “Make as if you're inspecting the auction ships. In exactly half an hour local I'll be on the other side of the starboard hatch.” He gestured with his chin. “The security cams will be disabled. I'll dim the illuminator once; that's your signal to come through. The only way to reach the YT is by patrol boat. Have you ever piloted one?”
“How hard can it be?” Zenn Bien said.
“Maneuver the patrol boat to the YT's port-side docking ring and secure to it. The ship's life-support systems will be on standby, so all you'll have to do is wait for the air lock to cycle and you're in.”
“Anything we need to know about anti-theft or anti-intrusion devices?” Zenn Bien said.
“No anti-intrusion. That's the best I can tell you.”
“What about fuel? Quip says the ship has been gathering rust and micrometeors for years.”
“There's enough fuel and power to complete a jump to Sriluur.”
“How'd you accomplish that?”
“It took me six months to see to it.”
Zenn Bien looked from the Imperial to Quip and back again. “You two have been planning this heist that long?”
Both of them nodded.
“Guess the Empire doesn't pay very well.”
“That's the least of it,” the warrant officer said.
Half an hour passed in no time. Ambling to the hatch, Zenn Bien and Quip waited for the illuminator to dim, then hurried through. The Imperial directed them down a dark corridor to the waiting patrol boat and wished them luck.
The YT-1300 that Quip was after was corralled with several dozen other vessels—many of them CIS warships—in a zero-g docking station adjacent to the inspection hangar. The perimeter of the impound facility was patrolled by roving illuminators and clone pilots flying old V-wing fighters, but the patrols were so widely spaced they were able to reach the YT undetected, thanks in large measure to Zenn Bien's ability to see in the dark. As they made their approach, she regarded the freighter through the boat's small viewport.
“This isn't a stock YT-Thirteen-hundred. It's more of a Thirteen-hundred-pea hybrid.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Just the opposite. We'll have more parts to sell.”
Fastening the boat to the docking ring, they enabled the lock and waited for it to cycle. Then they scurried into the ship's pitch-black ring corridor, Quip holding on to the back of Zenn Bien's flight jacket. Glancing around, she shook her head in astonishment.
“Wait till you get a load of this ship.”
Stepping out from behind her, Quip stubbed his foot against a large round object and fell back against the bulkhead, shining a handheld glow rod along the deck.
“Is that what I think it is?” he said while he nursed his foot.
Zenn Bien bent down to inspect the sphere. “Buzz droid,” she said, clearly baffled. Moving to the bulkhead, she palmed the actuator that brought up the emergency lights and headed aft down the ring corridor.
Quip planted his sore foot on the deck and began to hobble after her. “Where are you going? The cockpit's the other way.”
“I want see what other surprises this ship has in store for us.”
Poking