Star Wars_ X-Wing 03_ The Krytos Trap - Michael A. Stackpole [83]
22
Wedge thumbed his comlink on. “What do you need, Mirax?”
“Coming up on the Kala’uun Starport, Wedge. I thought you might like to be up here on the bridge as we come in. It’s quite the sight.”
“On my way.” He glanced around the cargo hold and nodded at his R5 unit. “Hang on, Mynock, we’re almost there. Keep a scanner on these crates for me, will you?”
The cylinder-headed droid beeped affirmatively. The R5 unit then exchanged some softer tones with the Pulsar Skate’s Verpine maintenance droid.
No, they can’t be talking about me. Wedge laughed at his flash of paranoia and stepped out of the hold. The doors crunched shut behind him. Letting a hand trail along the corridor’s ceiling, he made his way along the spine of the ship to the bridge. He thought he might have been imagining things, but heat from the atmosphere already appeared to be bleeding in through the ship’s hull. Scant wonder there are Twi’leks that think of Tatooine as a suitable place to flee to during the hot season here.
He stepped down into the bridge and dropped into a seat behind Mirax. “I’d forgotten how impressive this is.”
The tortured surface of Ryloth spread out before them like the shards of a shattered earthenware vase. Black basalt mountains thrust up into a dusky red sky. Centermost in their view of the planet stood a massive mountain with a huge tunnel cored into the interior at its base. The smaller holes dotting the face of the mountain would have appeared to be natural openings except for the regularity with which they were arranged.
Because the planet rotated on its axis once per year, the same side of Ryloth always faced the sun. Kala’uun existed near the terminus line—where day and night met—making it one of the cooler sunside locations. Because of Ryloth’s elliptical orbit, the planet did have seasons, though most humans could not tell the difference between summer and the cool season since both were unbearably hot.
“Yeah, impressive and impressively treacherous. Liat, watch the crosswinds as we enter the tunnel.”
The Sullustan pilot chittered angrily at her.
“I know you can’t miss the rocks out there, I just want to make sure we miss the rocks.” Mirax smiled. “No heat storm activity today, it seems, but the currents can still be tricky.”
“Right.”
Liat Tevv took the Pulsar Skate down into the canyon that led to the tunnel. Harsh winds had smoothed the stone to the consistency of polished glass in some spots, and had torn away huge dagger-like slabs in others. Smaller areas of damage to the rocks—some graced with a splash of paint or metallic debris—gave mute testimony to the need for care in negotiating the approach to Kala’uun.
The Pulsar Skate slipped into the approach tunnel with plenty of room to spare on all sides. Liat flicked on the ship’s external running lights and floods, filling the dark tunnel with jagged shadows. Up ahead a massive portcullis slowly rose into the tunnel’s ceiling. As they flew past it Wedge guessed it was at least thirty meters thick and would require a lot of pounding before it admitted unwanted visitors.
Mirax glanced back at him. “Ever get the feeling that the portcullis is as much for keeping folks in as it is for keeping them out?”
“Only when I’m on the inside of it.” Three years had passed since his first and last trip to Kala’uun, when he and the rest of Rogue Squadron had arrived unbidden and in pursuit of a Twi’lek. The circumstances of this trip were certainly more favorable. Even so, just to make certain there were no grudges being borne against him, he’d put Emtrey’s scavenging abilities to good use and had him round up a plethora of gifts for the Twi’leks.
Mirax nodded. “Kala’uun is the one place my father figures he didn’t make out like a bandit.