Star Wars_ Tales From the Mos Eisley Cantina - Kevin J. Anderson [41]
Shada’s heart seemed to seize up inside her. The Tonnika sisters were here? On Tatooine? “We came back,” she said through suddenly dry lips. “I guess we shouldn’t have.”
“I guess not.” Riij paused. “I heard something else interesting too, just after this big Imperial droid search came down all over Mos Eisley a couple of days ago. It seems the Empire’s also put out an urgent search-and-detain order for a stolen Strike Cruiser.”
“A Strike Cruiser?” Shada repeated, putting as much scorn as she could into her voice. “Oh, I’m sure. People steal Strike Cruisers all the time.”
“Yeah, I thought that sounded pretty strange myself,” Riij agreed. “So I went over and talked to a pal of mine at the control tower to see if that was even possible. You know what he told me?”
“I’m dying to hear.”
“He said he’d picked up something sneaking in toward the Dune Sea an hour or so before that Star Destroyer showed up and all these Imperials dropped in on us. Something just about the size of a Strike Cruiser.” Riij lifted his eyebrows. “Interesting, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Tremendously,” Shada said, fighting to keep her sudden dread out of her voice. So they had spotted the Strike Cruiser, after all. And Cai was in big trouble. “Were the Imperials pleased to hear this?”
“Actually, he hasn’t told them yet,” Riij said, eyeing her closely. “He was going off duty at the time and didn’t feel like holding a question session with a bunch of stormtroopers. ’Course, once they came down in force and took over the tower, he was even less inclined to remember stuff like that. That happens on Tatooine.”
“I see,” Shada murmured. They were still in trouble, but at least they still had a little breathing space. “You’ll forgive me if lost Imperial property isn’t high on my list at the moment. We have more pressing problems of our own.”
“I’m sure you do,” Riij said solemnly. “Number one being how to get out of here before Happer finds out you aren’t Brea and Senni Tonnika.”
Shada felt herself tense up again. She’d suspected he knew, but had been hoping fervently that she was wrong. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s all right,” Riij said. “The microphones in this cell haven’t worked in three months. I popped out the circuit fuse a few minutes ago too, just to make sure.”
Shada glanced at Karoly. She looked as puzzled as Shada felt. “All right,” she said, looking back at Riij. “Fine. Let’s cut through the smoke here and tell us what you want.”
Riij seemed to brace himself. “I’ll let you out,” he said. “In exchange for some of whatever’s in that Strike Cruiser.”
Shada frowned at him. “What are you doing, running a smuggling service on the side?”
“Not smuggling.” He shook his head. “Information. To certain interested parties.”
“What parties?”
“It’s not important.” Riij smiled faintly. “On Tatooine, one normally doesn’t ask that question.”
“Yes, well, we’re new here,” Shada countered, thinking hard. This could be an Imperial trick, she knew: a way to get her and Karoly to tell them where they’d hidden the Hammertong. But somehow that seemed a little too subtle for people who owned interrogator droids and normally had no compunction about using them. “All right,” she said. “But only if you can find us a freighter that can handle something three by five meters.”
Riij frowned. “Three by—?”
“Hey, Riij!” Happer’s voice called from down the corridor. “Gotta go—something big brewing over at Docking Bay 97. The Imperials have called the whole duty force in to run backup. Can you watch things here a while?”
“Sure, no problem,” Riij assured him.
“Thanks.”
Happer ran off, his footsteps cut off by the boom of a closing security door. “Well?” Shada prompted.
“I can get a freighter,” Riij said, forehead wrinkled in thought. “The problem’s going to be getting it fast enough. There’s a sandstorm sweeping in across that part of the Dune Sea—a big one. It’ll hit in a couple of hours, and there’s a good chance it’ll bury your ship for good.”
“Then