Star Wars_ X-Wing 03_ The Krytos Trap - Michael A. Stackpole [79]
Airen Cracken patted the Vratix on the shoulder. “As you asked, I have brought Commander Antilles. You have something to tell him?”
“Yes, of course.” Qlaern rested both hands on Wedge’s shoulders. “We have analyzed the virus and various medicinal preparations. Ryll will have some effect against the virus. Its efficacy varies widely. We have been pursuing the reason for this. We have been advised that ryll is classified in a number of different grades by the Twi’leks. Most of the ryll available off Ryloth is of the lowest grade.”
“They don’t export the best, I can understand that.”
“Good. The rarest grade of ryll is known as ryll kor. It makes up approximately three percent of all ryll. The compound contains in it trace elements that appear to work against the virus, but exactly how and why we are not certain. We need as much ryll kor as we can get.”
Wedge nodded and patted the backs of the Vratix’s hands. “How will I know it?”
“The ryll kor tastes …” Qlaern stopped. “You would not be able to differentiate the taste, we think.”
“Probably not.”
“Kor absorbs light except in the ultraviolet range.”
Wedge glanced at Cracken. “Meaning?”
“It looks black, like charcoal, except to someone who can see in the UV range.” Cracken smiled. “I have some gear that will be able to sort kor from ryll that’s dyed black. You might check, though, perhaps your Gand can see in the ultraviolet range.”
Wouldn’t surprise me. He doesn’t breathe or sleep and can regenerate severed limbs. “I’ll ask Ooryl if he can help me in that capacity.” He looked back at Qlaern. “I’ll get you your kor.”
“Do that, Wedge Antilles, and we shall cure the disease.”
And then I’ll be bound by my promise to represent you to the Provisional Council. Wedge smiled and brought Qlaern’s right hand up to feel his face. “We’ll be back before you know it, I promise. And you know I keep my promises.”
21
Corran Horn shuffled along in line with the other prisoners. He affected the dull-eyed, hopeless stare most of them displayed for their guards. He moved when told to move and stopped when told to stop. In no way should any of the guards in stormtrooper armor conducting them to the mines have noticed anything out of the ordinary about him. To them he should have appeared to be just like all the other prisoners being herded to the mines.
He hoped against hope the facade he put forward fooled them, because as dull and soporific as he might seem on the outside, he was seething and anxious on the inside. After only a week in the general population he had decided to make his first stab at escape. He had briefly discussed his plan with Jan and found the man’s insights useful, but he had ignored Jan’s entreaties to put off his attempt.
The prospect of being killed in his first try did daunt Corran, but not as much as he thought it should have. He had a hunch that he wouldn’t be killed if he was captured. He knew that was foolish, and that he had no factual basis for making that judgment, but it felt right. During his career with CorSec, and as a pilot with Rogue Squadron, he’d gone with gut feelings before, and won more times than he’d lost.
Although he did not have any facts to support his feelings about escape, he did have some circumstantial evidence that made him optimistic. First and foremost was the fact that he wasn’t dead yet. He couldn’t imagine Ysanne Isard keeping him or anyone else around unless they were useful. As long as he did not prove to be more of a bother than he was worth to Iceheart and her plans, he’d be kept alive.
Second, and it was a rather bizarre fact, was the method of return for the unsuccessful