Star Wars_ Splinter of the Mind's Eye - Alan Dean Foster [14]
The coveralls rose to end in a cap that fit over the wearer’s head. Some members of the group had their hoods up and fastenformed, others wore them folded flat against their upper back. Various types of equipment Luke didn’t recognize hung and swayed from wide belts.
Evidently the Princess knew what they were. “Miners,” she informed him, watching as the group moved off down one metal walkway. “They’re wearing mining suits. The Empire’s digging something valuable out of this planet, and the Circarpousians don’t know a thing about it.”
“How can you be so sure?” Luke inquired.
The Princess sounded positive. “They’d have their own installation here, and no troops. The Empire obviously doesn’t want anyone to know about this.” Artoo whistled soft agreement.
Further conversation was made impossible when the air was suddenly filled with a distant, violent howling. It sounded like a parade of demons tramping along just beneath the surface.
The sound continued for several minutes, then ceased. Realization transformed the Princess’ expression.
“Energy mining!” she explained breathlessly to Luke. “They’re using some big generators here.” A thoughtful pause, then, “That might account for the atmospheric disturbance which forced us down. I knew I’d read about that effect somewhere. A ship has to be specially insulated to drop down through an area where an energy drill is working. By-products, including excess charges, are shunted away skyward.
“But the fallout materials—if this world supports a native race, it’s illegal, that kind of mining.
“Since when,” observed Luke bitterly, “did legalities ever matter to the Empire?”
“You’re right, of course.”
“We can’t stand here forever,” he went on. “First thing we have to do is obtain some substantial food. Those concentrates can keep you alive for only so long without some protein to work with. And,” he added, glancing at her muddy exterior, “we’ve got to get cleaned up. We can’t attract any attention. Since Yavin and the Death Star we’re both well known to Imperial enforcement officials, we’d be taken on sight.”
He studied her pilot’s suit, then his own. “We can’t go strolling around town in these. I think we’d better work on stealing a change of clothing.”
“Steal?” the Princess objected, drawing herself up. “From a possibly honest shopkeeper? If you think for a minute that a former Princess of the royal house of Alderaan, a Senator, is going to resort to—”
“I’ll steal them,” Luke said curtly. He leaned around the metal corner. The mist-shrouded street was momentarily deserted and he beckoned for her to follow.
They hugged the walls of the buildings, trying to pass quickly before any lit windows or open doors, slipping furtively from shadow to shadow. Luke hastily examined each storefront in passing. Finally he halted, indicated the sign above a doorway.
“Miner’s supplies,” he whispered. “This is the one we want.” While the Princess watched the walkways, he tried to peer through one dark window. “Maybe it’s a holiday,” he guessed hopefully.
“More likely the only establishments open this time of night sell nothing but intoxicants,” the Princess pointed out prosaically. “What now?” She looked uncomfortable.
By way of reply Luke led her around back. The rear entrance he’d hoped for was there. But it was secured, as he’d feared. To complicate matters there was a broad open lane behind the buildings, from which the jungle and bog had been shunted away. If anyone happened to come walking past, they’d have nowhere to hide.
“Wonderful,” the Princess observed as Luke tried the locked portal. “How do we get in?” She was indicating the seamless metal door which, no doubt, was locked and controlled from the inside. The back of the building was devoid of windows, possibly to foil intentions such as theirs.
Luke removed the lightsaber from his waist, very slowly adjusted the controls set in the handle.
“What are you going to do, Luke?”
“I don’t know how big this town is, but a noisy break-in