Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 06_ Balance Point - Kathy Tyers [48]
He armed the ERD-LLs—hybridized binary loadlifters with long, telescoping waists—with the only tools he could find, batter beaters from the open-air kitchen booth. Two sleepy Ryn staggered out of the nearest shelter, leaning against each other. One squinted while the other pointed at the near ERD-LL. It swung a batter beater, knocking loose a flurry of the seemingly white-eyed creatures. Fluttering along behind its swath, the white-eyes settled back against the dome’s underside.
Jacen switched on his comlink and pressed in an ID sequence.
“Yo,” a Ryn voice growled. “Did somebody lose track of the day cycle?”
“Romany,” Jacen said. “I need you. Emergency.”
Jaina came back at a quick walk. “Dad’s coming.”
“Good. Go wake up the Vors and get a rebreather count.” For the Vors, a breach could be deadly. That winged race was superbly adapted for its own atmosphere, but off Vortex, Vors’ lungs were notoriously twitchy.
Jaina headed up the lane.
Next he called Mezza. He met her and Romany, who brought his lieutenant R’vanna, at the open area at the center of the Ryn group’s wedge of huts. By this time, Han had arrived.
“Quietly,” Han said, “without panicking anybody, get your people suiting up. Just in case.”
Jacen broke in. “At the moment I’m more afraid of a stampede than a breach, but we haven’t done a breach drill in too long. Call it a drill, if anyone will believe you.”
Mezza honked scornfully and jogged away. Romany slipped into the nearest hut.
“Okay, kid. This way.” Han led Jacen to the dome’s center, where he pulled out a large blue tank with hose and nozzle. “I told SELCORE this was useless, that we wouldn’t be cleaning the ceiling. Guess I was wrong.”
Jacen helped him haul the tank to the hydroponics area, where one of the ERD-LL droids was uselessly brushing white-eyes aside.
“Down,” Han barked. “Retract.”
The droid telescoped downward. Han secured the tank on one metal arm, then grabbed the droid’s other hand. “Gimme a boost,” he grunted.
Jacen was reaching forward when a large furry object catapulted between himself and his father.
“I can do that,” Droma announced. He clambered up nimbly.
“About time you got here, wire-hair.” Han brushed dust off his sleeves. “Think you can figure out—”
“Up,” Droma honked. The ERD-LL elevated again. The nimble Ryn gripped a metal loop on the droid’s large flat hand, locking his feet, ankles, and prehensile tail around a rigid extension arm.
“What’s in the tank?” Jacen demanded. It was about to come showering down on everyone’s heads.
“Don’t know,” Han admitted. “Supposed to be non-toxic, even to Vors.”
Six minutes later, they knew it wouldn’t harm the white-eyes, either. They kept fluttering up from under eaves. Ryn roamed the settlement, crushing intact pupae, but for every white-eye they found, ten more flew up to the dome and started chowing down.
Jaina sprinted back. “The Vors need thirty-eight more rebreathers, Dad.”
Han fixed Jacen with a stare. “Think you can talk thirty-eight Ryn or humans out of their breath masks?”
Jacen gulped. “I guess—”
“Look at this,” Droma shouted. He slid down the ERD-LL’s midsection, holding something in one hand.
Jacen, Han, and Jaina circled him. Droma held up a clear spray-nozzle. Trapped inside, a white-eye attacked the synthplas nozzle with relish. Viewed from below, its mouthparts looked like twin rasps. They ground against the clear surface and then rotated inward, swallowing the dust.
“Worse than mynocks,” Han grunted. “That’s it. Jacen, get on the horn to Gateway. I’ll get a few Vors into landspeeders. We’re getting out.”
Jacen sprinted back to the control shed, counting days in his mind. Gateway should’ve had a comm-line crew out late yesterday, if they were on schedule. If the lines