Kapitel 61: Chapter 15. Simple execution (I)
Nine years, five months and ten days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-fourth year, five months and ten days after the Great Resynchronization.
Calling Lando Calrissian's Nomad City merely impressive would be an understatement.
The colossal hull of an ancient Dreadnought-class heavy cruiser, once mass-produced by Rendili Shipyards, served as the foundation of this self-propelled enterprise. Extensive modifications and alterations had virtually erased any trace of the ship's original purpose. According to Lando, the starship was no longer fit for its intended role. The remaining engines had been stripped and sold, and the combat systems had long since been repurposed. This enormous moving fortress no longer even possessed weaponry, with its sole defense being the few fighters docked deep within its structure. A hangar wasn't part of the cruiser's original design, but Lando and his team of craftsmen managed to retrofit one, achieving what seemed impossible.
Yet, much of Nomad's protection lay in the perilous astronomical conditions in which it operated. The intense stellar radiation, the planet's isolation from the main hyperspace routes, and the unbearable heat on Nklonn's sunny side all contributed to its security. Only the walker supports, fashioned from forty heavily modified and repurposed Imperial walkers, saved Nomad from the scorching heat. Lando claimed that he acquired this equipment through various means—some bought from scrap yards, some stolen, some won in card games, and others obtained through less-than-legal methods.
However, one thing was undeniable: the enterprise was exceptional. Mr. Calrissian had a knack for spotting profitable ventures, and he never shied away from his entrepreneurial spirit. While he once dabbled in semi-legal schemes, the former Rebel Alliance and New Republic general was now determined to make his living through legitimate means. Or, at the very least, he tried to keep his "shadier dealings" out of sight from his young employees.
"And you know," a smile began to spread across Calrissian's dark face, "I've never regretted hiring you, Rederik. You make an excellent administrator!"
** Lando Calrissian **
The young administrator merely smiled in response to his superior's praise.
"Just think about it!" Calrissian continued, his enthusiasm undimmed. "You convinced me to spend a million credits on a new batch of 'diggers'! And on the very first day, those thirty new drills extracted metal worth a third of their cost! Now all eighty-one of my beauties are unloading, undergoing maintenance, and will be back to work in just a few hours! Rederik, you're worth every credit! Increasing productivity truly takes a talent for administration!"
"This isn't entirely my doing," Rederik responded modestly. "I just noticed that with more plasma drills, we could extract more metal. You don't need to be a genius in economics to see the benefits of such a move. If you weren't so frugal, you could have built a couple more Nomads by now. I've seen the schematics for this enterprise—technically, it doesn't seem all that complex…"
"Alright, young man," Calrissian playfully wagged a finger at him. "First of all, it's not 'frugality,' it's 'prudent financial management.' Secondly, even in this vast galaxy, with all its chaos, there aren't many half-broken ships and Imperial walkers available at a reasonable price. But you're right about one thing—a few more Nomads could significantly boost my profits. I'll have to give it some thought."
"You know, I never cease to be impressed by your ingenuity," Rederik remarked as they neared the Nomad's control center. "Such an ambitious project—a walking mining platform! It's a marvel! Just imagine what could be achieved if you invested more in developing this idea!"
"Son," Lando grinned, leading the way into the ship's control room, "this Nomad cost me nearly a hundred million credits! For that kind of money, I could have bought a Star Destroyer from the New Republic."
"Are there any for sale?" Rederik smiled, making it clear he was joking. Lando shot him a slightly wary glance but soon smiled, appreciating the humor.
"No, of course not," Lando chuckled quietly. "Even those old relics rusting away at the Kharm shipyards will never go on sale. The fledgling government isn't keen on having Star Destroyers freely roaming the galaxy. I admit, if I'd known someone nearby had a Star Destroyer available, I wouldn't have undertaken such a project. But I came up with this idea back when I owned Cloud City on Bespin! Ah, those were the days… If it weren't for the Hutts, Vader, and his Empire, life in the galaxy could have been so much better over the last thirty years!"
"Sir," one of the central control room operators approached them. Three operators worked here during a regular shift, but when complex cross-country excavations were underway, the number of personnel increased accordingly. "The Shieldship base isn't responding to our signals."
"Is that so?" Lando frowned. "Could the transmitter be malfunctioning?"
"No, sir, it's working fine," the operator replied. "I've checked it twice."
"Alright," Calrissian scratched his head thoughtfully. "The problem is probably on their end. Those ships are old; anything could have happened. And with the metal buyers arriving tomorrow, they might be doing some maintenance… Let's not speculate. We'll send a shuttle to the base to check things out. If someone's broken the equipment again, they'll be working for me for a month for free!"
"Actually, the shuttle is undergoing repairs," the operator said, glancing at Rederik.
"I don't understand," Lando turned to his administrator, puzzled. "What happened to my precious shuttle? It just came out of renovation! We spent twenty thousand credits to get that bird flying!"
"Engine desynchronization," Rederik explained. "One of the repairmen left a calibration key under the right engine cover. During a test run, it shorted the winding, causing the motors to run unevenly. I ordered the repairs—it'll take a few days. But it's better than flying in circles because one engine provides more thrust than the other."
"Yes, yes," Lando nodded. "As a last resort, we still have my 'Lady Luck.' If necessary, I'll personally fly to the Shieldship base and straighten things out. Oh, right," the entrepreneur slapped his forehead, "we don't have Shieldships at hand. And we can't get in touch with them… Without them, my baby will roast under the star's rays. Can you believe this level of disorganization? Rederik, where are you looking?"
"With all due respect, sir," the administrator smiled apologetically, "I'm only responsible for the Nomad. My authority doesn't extend to the Shieldship base."
"Exactly," Calrissian frowned in frustration. He was silent for a moment, then his face brightened with a sudden idea. "I've got it! We'll have a Shieldship!"
"Sir?" Rederik raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Did you take my advice and buy another ship?"
"No!" Calrissian protested. "I was informed five hours ago by the Shieldship base that… an old friend of mine has arrived on his ship. Since he had hyperdrive issues, he had to travel the entire nineteen hours on sublight engines. That means," Calrissian glanced at the chronometer, "in about fourteen hours, they'll be here. However, Luke is an understanding guy…" Lando pondered for a moment. "Yes, I think he won't mind if I ask their Shieldship to return to the base and contact us from there. At least we'll know what's going on."
"Is it appropriate to interfere with a client's plans like that?" Rederik asked diplomatically.
"Please," Calrissian waved dismissively, moving toward the communications console. "What kind of client is a Jedi? No, he's a good guy, but why would he need several tons of metal?"
"A Jedi is coming?" Rederik's eyebrows shot up. "Is something serious happening that I'm unaware of?"
"It's nothing," Lando frowned, putting on a headset. "Except for the loss of communication with the Shieldship base. No, Luke is coming for personal reasons. Now, connect me to Shieldship… four, I think… Yes, number four!"
Rederik remained in place, but his hand slipped into the pocket of his vest, his nail catching on the thread of a hidden compartment…
"Shieldship-four?" Lando confirmed when he heard the pilot's voice. "Great! This is Lando…"
He didn't get a chance to finish. As if struck by an electric shock, he jumped back from the panel, tearing off the headset. A piercing screech echoed through the control room, like metal claws raking across transparisteel—a horrible, agonizing sound. Even Rederik winced in pain.
"What is that?" Rederik asked, wincing and looking at Lando. He quickly approached the console and turned off the sound.
"Electronic interference," Lando said, his demeanor growing serious. "There might be a flare on the star; it's happened before…"
"No, sir," the operator interrupted, glancing up from his instruments. "The pattern isn't right. It's too structured, not chaotic…"
"Someone's jamming our communication channels…" Calrissian muttered grimly.
"Who?" Rederik asked in surprise. "And, more importantly, why?!"
"If only I knew," Lando grumbled. "This is what pirates in the Mid Rim usually do before an attack or…"
He trailed off, throwing a desperate look at Rederik. His expression soured as if he'd tasted something bitter.
"Or who?" the administrator prompted. Calrissian was about to respond when one of the operators interrupted him.
"Sir, our Shieldship has appeared from hyperspace!"
"Now that's what I call Jedi efficiency," Calrissian smiled, clapping his hands. "I always said that Luke is a great guy! The moment he realized we had problems, he decided not to mess around with the hyperdrive anymore, transferred the access codes to the 'four,' and immediately came to visit us…"
"Sir," the third operator called out quietly. "That's not the fourth Shieldship, but the ninth."
"He should be at the base," Lando frowned, approaching the orbital scanner console. "Did the fools really decide to fly in and tell us what happened... Oh, Hutt, are you kidding me?!"
"What's happening?!" Rederik asked, hands in his pockets, walking over to the console where the third operator sat, biting his lip in frustration.
"An Imperial Star Destroyer has come to visit," Lando said, his voice heavy. "They're releasing fighters and landing ships… Hutt, what a precise jump! Just a minute outside the planetary shadow, and now their TIE fighters are already bearing down on us! And we sit here, with no communication, wondering who's jamming us! Yes, in two minutes, they'll already be hammering at our front door!"
"We need to sound the alarm, urgently!" suggested the third operator, reaching for the red button. But he never got the chance.
A scarlet bolt of energy shot from the right pocket of Rederik's vest, hitting the man square in the back of the head, and he collapsed from his chair to the deck. The second operator, darting to the side, was the next victim of a blaster shot from Rederik's other hand. The Imperial naval intelligence agent had already drawn his second blaster from his left pocket and shot the third operator.
"What's going on?!" Lando demanded angrily, his brows furrowed as he stared at his administrator.
"Nothing you need to worry about, Mr. Calrissian," Rederik said calmly, both blasters now aimed. "Step away from the panel and don't interfere with the Empire's work. I promise, if there's no resistance, you'll all survive."
"And if there is?" Lando growled, no doubt thinking about how the Empire was once again taking something precious from him in such a brazen manner.
"Then the TIE pilots will blow up the Nomad's supports, and in half a day, your enterprise will be fried by stellar radiation as the Nklonn terminator line reaches you," Rederik replied simply. "But we'll still get what we want. Much sooner, in fact."
"I don't doubt it," Calrissian snorted. "Just don't touch my workers! I'll cooperate. But you," he jabbed an accusing finger at the agent, "don't even think about getting paid for this week!"
"Another mistake," Rederik smiled. "I collected my three thousand credits from the payroll two hours ago."
It looked like Calrissian's jaw might have cracked under the pressure of his clenched teeth...
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein