Star Wars_ The New Rebellion - Kristine Kathryn Rusch [70]
Parked in the middle of the cavern was a sand crawler. Its wedge-shaped doors were open, and Jawas moved in and out. Their eyes glowed red from beneath their hoods. Their robes were tattered on the bottom, and they kept a continual conversation going as they loaded pieces of stormtrooper uniforms onto the sand crawler. Jawas inside were cleaning the uniforms, and others were repairing droids, making them usable. Buried in the sand were more pieces of stormtrooper uniforms, some blasters, and parts to an Imperial shuttle.
Han forgot his discomfort. He leaned as far forward as he could. He saw shadows of other caverns through the openings, and sand-crawler tracks leading away. After a few moments, a Jawa raised a small hand, gave an order, and the Jawas carried the remaining uniforms on board. They apparently hadn’t seen the shuttle pieces. The crawler moved forward on its giant treads, leaving even more tracks. As it rumbled past Han’s hiding place, he leaned against the wall so that no one would see him.
As if anyone were looking.
After the Jawas were gone, he crept forward and crouched. The sand was hot, as he had expected it to be. He grabbed a handful, then let it filter through his fingers. He watched the tiny rocks slip away until he saw a bolt in the pile. He shook the sand off the bolt and examined it. Imperial issue, about twenty-five years old. Usually used on cargo ships.
He tossed the bolt aside and dug through the sand, uncovering more and more pieces of equipment, until below, he found more coolant covers.
The sand had been placed here on purpose.
And so, apparently, had the Imperial equipment.
It made no sense.
He remained hunched for a moment, thinking. There was a clue here, and he had had one earlier. An important clue.
The heat was intense on his back. The rumble of another sand crawler made him look up. In the cavern beyond, a different sand crawler was closing its doors.
If Skip 5 was as big as Skip 1, the Jawas could drive through the caverns for days without seeing one another.
They could almost imagine they were on a small, isolated section of Tatooine. And as long as they had equipment to find and repair, they would be happy.
As long as they had a place to trade it.
Or some way of getting paid.
Jawas loved to barter, but they never took many credits. Credits meant little to them. It was the act of scavenging and reselling that made their lives worthwhile. What a great, easy way to get equipment cleaned and repaired at almost no cost. Whoever was behind the setup of this part of the operation was brilliant.
A fishy stench swept over him, and he pulled his hand out of the sand. Between the Jawas and the ooze, his experience on the Run had been one of awful smells. Who could guess what was in this sand? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
He wiped his hands on his pants, and turned. Chewbacca was standing behind him, back to Han, bowcaster aimed up the corridor.
“I thought I told you to stay at the Falcon.”
Chewie waved a paw for silence. Han gripped his blaster tighter. Seluss was nowhere to be seen. If Chewie had left that little mouse on the Falcon, he would never live it down. Ever.
Finally Chewie put his paw down. He spoke softly in Wookiee, in a series of growls and low moans, his paws moving eloquently as he did. All the while, he kept his gaze on the corridor, as if he expected someone to come through it.
Han listened, his frown growing deeper. Chewie had watched Han disappear, then had seen three men follow him down the corridor. When Chewie had come in, Han was alone.
And that wasn’t all. Most of the ships on the loading bay weren’t loading. They were unloading.
No one unloaded on the Run. It was an unwritten rule. It was also unwise.
“I’m missing something here, Chewie,” Han said. “Where’s Seluss?”
Chewie nodded toward the corridor.
“He’s up there? You gave him a blaster?”
Chewie shrugged, then growled softly.
“You have a point. I would have been very unhappy if you’d left him alone on the Falcon,” Han said.
Chewie moaned and wiped