Bab 63: Simple execution (III)
After the last fires were extinguished, the breaches were sealed, and the wounded were carried to the infirmary, Lando found himself at a loss, uncertain whether to laugh or cry.
Should he feel pride for his people, who, without orders from above, had managed to repel the Imperial stormtroopers, or should he mourn because everything was lost once again?
First, he had lost his business on Bespin, and now Nklonn. Time after time, the Empire had snatched away everything he had painstakingly built, pouring his knowledge and resources into ventures that teetered on the edge of success and failure. Just think of the bribes he'd paid to New Republic officials—nearly thirty million credits!
And now, the moment had arrived when the "Nomad" was crippled. Without functioning motivators, they wouldn't make it far before the planet's dark side caught up with them. Just as that traitor Rederik had predicted! That Hutt scum! The bastard even managed to collect a week's salary while he studied the "Nomad" and planned the attack.
Now Lando had no doubt—the Shieldship base was out of commission. The silence was telling. And the shuttle that could have gone for inspection had been disabled for a reason. Damn those Imperial spies, and damn the Hutts! But they had been so persuasive... A million credits invested, and thirty new diggers to show for it! Our metal warehouses were overflowing...
And now it was all gone.
The "Nomad" might still move, but barely. There was no way they could escape now.
The long-range communication antenna was destroyed, and calling for help was impossible. Even if clients arrived in a few days, they wouldn't be able to reach Nklonn without the Shieldships. And those, it seemed, were destroyed...
And the Empire had seized all the mined metal reserves too. Along with all the accumulated funds! Sure, Lando had some money left in dummy bank accounts, but he had no doubt that the Imperials, who not only robbed them but also cleaned out all the information databases, would eventually get to his emergency reserves as well. Fifty million credits, saved for a rainy day, were now at risk! Enough to start a new business—or buy himself a new yacht... It was hard to say what he missed more—the business or "Lady Luck." The Imperials had taken her too!
Well, he could always tap into old contacts, call in favors from long-time friends and partners... He might scrape together a couple hundred thousand. Enough to do something, but...
His thoughts were interrupted by a beep from the intercom.
"Lando here," he said quietly.
"Sir, I have good news and bad news," came the melancholy voice of the second administrator, Lobot. The cyborg who had been through so much with him... "Which do you want first?"
** Lobot **
"Surprise me," Lando replied, laughing through tears. How else could he maintain his sanity in this crazy galaxy?
"In about an hour, the motivators will fail," said the cyborg. "And we will stop moving."
"We can replace them," Lando suggested. "In the warehouse..."
He stopped short, biting his lower lip. What was left in the warehouse? Dust and the aftermath of a firefight? The Imperials had taken everything, even the two Z-95 Headhunter starfighters he'd bought a month ago. Sure, they were relics from the Clone Wars, but they still worked—and they packed a punch. "They did," Lando mentally corrected himself.
** Starfighter Z-95 "Headhunter" **
"Yes, sir," Lobot responded calmly. "Even a rancor would hang itself out of boredom in those empty warehouses."
"Since when did you start joking?" Lando asked, surprised.
"I'm just trying to keep you from throwing in the towel," the cyborg replied. "Now for the bad news."
"Wait a minute," Calrissian said, his spirits lifting slightly. "You're telling me that being stranded and about to roast on a grill was the 'good news'?"
"Yes, sir," Lobot replied without a hint of humor.
Calrissian rubbed his temples hard. What could possibly be worse?
"Just tell me already," he said, weary.
"The enemy took all our plasma drills," Lobot informed him.
Hutt! Hutt! And once again, the Hutt!
Lando had hoped to salvage the situation by selling off remaining assets, but now...
"Hold on," he said, rubbing his forehead. "We had fifty-one in operation, and the same number were in non-working warehouses as a source of spare parts..."
"And you purchased thirty additional units at Administrator Rederik's insistence," Lobot reminded him. "I advised against spending money on new ones, suggesting we repair the ones we had."
"Yes, yes," Calrissian grimaced. "But those old ones required so much investment... It was easier to buy new ones—the old ones couldn't hold atmosphere, and the engines were crap... They were... Wait. Don't tell me the Imperials took the non-working ones too!"
"They took everything," Lobot said laconically. "Even the security team's personal weapons, the crew's money and valuables, our arsenal, medicines, and fighter parts. Although, who would want that old junk..."
"Stop rubbing it in," Lando grimaced. "We need to figure out how to get out of this mess..."
"I do have some good news," Lobot said unexpectedly. "But it's a stretch."
"How good?" Calrissian asked, not holding out much hope.
"Our Shieldship-four is still in orbit," Lobot informed him. "We can use the shuttle to transport the wounded onto it and..."
"Wait!" Lando interrupted, suddenly alert. "The fourth Shieldship! Skywalker's there!"
"No, sir," Lobot replied. "The Jedi Knight isn't aboard..."
What kind of day was this?!
"Where in the galaxy did this Jedi wander off to now...?" Calrissian fumed, turning toward the exit, only to hear a delicate cough behind him. "Oh, Luke!"
"Hello, Lando," the young Jedi greeted him with a modest smile. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to assist you sooner. The journey to your WIG base was difficult, and I entered a meditative trance to rest... But for some reason, the pilot didn't inform me that communication with you had been lost..."
At first, Lando wanted to hug Skywalker. Then he changed his mind and considered strangling the Shieldship pilot. But after thinking it over, he decided there was nothing to be done...
"There wasn't much you could have done, Luke," Lando said tiredly, dropping into a chair beside some sort of control panel. "A whole Star Destroyer was here. They tore us to shreds... Over two thousand dead, and seven hundred wounded..."
"That's tragic, Lando," Luke said, his face reflecting deep regret. "I wish I had arrived sooner... I'm sorry."
"Don't beat yourself up," Calrissian forced a bitter smile. "One Jedi against several squadrons of TIE fighters and interceptors... You're tough, but even you have limits."
"Yes, I really messed up this time," Luke admitted. "Again."
"Again?" Lando raised an eyebrow.
"Don't worry about it," the young Jedi advised. "Just tell me—what did the Imperials want here?"
"Anything that wasn't bolted down," Calrissian sighed. "So, I take it the Imperials destroyed the second Shieldship before it could jump?"
"Yes," Skywalker confirmed. "There's nothing left up there but scrap metal."
"I suspect our WIG base is in a similar state," Lando said grimly. "Tell me your X-wing still has long-distance communication capabilities."
"Yes, it does," Skywalker nodded. "But given Nklonn's radiation, the signal might not be clear, but..."
"I don't care!" Lando exclaimed, waving a hand dismissively. "We need to contact the nearest New Republic base! If they send us at least an attack frigate—or better yet, a couple of them—we can get the Nomad off the planet under the cover of the last Shieldship! We'll relocate it somewhere near the Shieldship base, and then we can repair it!"
** T-65 X-wing star fighter **
The plan seemed insane, even just talking about it. There were no guarantees—no certainty that even if the ships arrived, even if they somehow managed to pull the Nomad off the surface of Nklonn, even if they could tow it to a safe location...and that was only the beginning of a hundred other "ifs."
Judging by the expression on Skywalker's face, he was thinking the same thing.
"Are you sure the Nomad can't be moved on its own?" he asked, clearly reluctant to entangle himself with the bureaucracy of the New Republic. Lando felt a pang of despair… If even the Jedi was losing hope…
"No," Lando sighed heavily. "We'll be roasted alive before we could travel to the far end of the galaxy, buy a new modified motivator, and bring it back here. And we can't even dig below the surface now! The Imperials stole all my plasma drills!"
"And…what do they need them for?" Skywalker asked, perplexed.
"How should I know?" Calrissian snapped, his frustration boiling over. After a brief pause, he took a deep breath and added, "All those drills do is melt rock and metal in front of them, controlled by radio signals. Maybe the Empire is setting up its own mining operation. Or maybe they're just spiteful enough to kick me while I'm down."
"Or there might be something more behind all this," Luke mused, his tone growing thoughtful. Then, as if snapping back to reality, he asked, "But they didn't just come for your plasma drills, did they?"
"No, I'm convinced they were after the metal and my credit reserves!" Lando huffed. "I've got warehouses packed with ore and a vault stuffed with cash… Nineteen million credits… And then there's the equipment, droids, weapons, medical supplies, fighters…"
"What kind of metal were you mining here?" Skywalker asked with his usual straightforward curiosity.
"Pretty much everything in the galaxy's periodic table," Lando responded with a weary sigh. "Hfredium, kammris, dolovite—you name it, it was stored in the warehouses. I'm sure that with enough durasteel, they could build themselves a few cruisers. Maybe even a Star Destroyer…"
"How much metal did you have?" Skywalker asked, his surprise evident.
"Six months' worth of production, give or take," Lando sighed again. "At market prices, that's just over twenty million credits."
"I didn't realize your business was so lucrative," Luke admitted.
"Of course it is," Lando said, rubbing his temples. "If the New Republic had more funding, they'd have put their fleet in proper shape ages ago. But instead, they scrape together enough to buy a small batch once a year and nothing more. They try to appeal to our conscience and patriotism…"
"Then I don't think it will be too difficult to convince Coruscant to send someone over, a team from the planet, and get everything up and running again," Luke said confidently. "Especially after what happened in the Dufilvian sector…"
"What happened there?" Lando inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"The Empire decimated our sector fleet," Luke explained, watching as Lando's eyes widened in disbelief. "I found out when I was en route to you from Dagobah. Leia, Han, and Rogue Squadron are already there, trying to handle the situation."
"I hope things are going better for them than they are here," Calrissian grimaced.
"I wouldn't say that," Luke shuddered. "They destroyed the sector fleet base, wiped out the medical facility… It's total devastation."
"It's strange they didn't take control of the sector," Lando noted. "By the way, what were you doing on Dagobah?"
"Oh, right," Luke shook his head, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small, flattened cylinder. "I found this in a place where…" The Jedi hesitated. "Never mind. The point is, R2-D2 said he saw something like this in Cloud City on Bespin…"
Lando, frowning, took the cylinder from him and examined it closely.
"Interesting piece of tech," he said after a few moments. "They don't make them like this anymore. If you hadn't mentioned Cloud City, I might not have recognized it—it's an unfamiliar design."
"And what is it?" Skywalker asked, his curiosity piqued. "A data storage device?"
"No, my friend," Calrissian sighed. "There is some information in it, but it's strictly official. This is a decoy. I'm amazed it still functions. It looks like it was put together before the Clone Wars—it's definitely an old piece of work."
"A decoy?" Luke asked, intrigued. "What does it do?"
"We use similar technology to control our diggers," Calrissian explained. "The device operates on a specific frequency—probably within the planet's range. It works like a ship's beacon, but with much more advanced and complex technology. Just imagine," Lando looked at his friend, "you've got a ship. And to avoid having a full crew, you invest in automation. You install advanced computers or buy a bunch of droids. Then, you set up a device like this. When you need your ship and you're on the other side of the planet, instead of wasting time returning to the spaceport, you press a button," Lando gestured to a row of triangular keys on the cylinder, "and your starship flies straight to you."
"And it won't crash?" Skywalker asked, skeptical.
Ah, the simplicity of a farm boy… They say you can leave Tatooine, but Tatooine never leaves you.
"Some ships could not only avoid obstacles and choose the optimal course, but they could also engage in combat if they were armed. It's a handy piece of tech," Lando said. "They don't make them like this anymore—it's prohibitively expensive. I had a fully automated yacht in Cloud City, but the Imperials requisitioned it. They probably knocked out the beacon, too, since the ship didn't respond to the decoy signal, and I had to escape on the Falcon."
"Isn't Lady Luck equipped with a beacon like this?" Luke inquired.
"No," Lando sighed sadly. "Otherwise, I'd have tried to track the Imperials and sic the New Republic fleet on them."
"You said your diggers work on the same principle," the young Jedi reminded him.
"Well, sort of," Lando conceded. "They're mostly manually operated, and you can put a small team inside. But if something goes wrong, you can use the control panel to steer the digger. Within limits, of course. It won't jump to hyperspace, but it can move back and forth."
"So, could you use the diggers to track the Imperials?" Luke asked, brightening at the idea.
Lando gave him a patient look. Tatooine... what more could one say?
"If they aren't complete idiots, and they probably aren't, they've already deactivated the beacons. I doubt we have a transmitter powerful enough to send a signal and get a response across the galaxy," he explained. "I told you, the decoy works within planetary range, nothing more. Sure, you could use more powerful communications equipment, like a ship's repeater, to operate in orbit, but that's all theoretical. In practice, if anyone has done that, I haven't heard about it. Well, except for the Katana fleet."
"Will you tell me about it?" Luke asked. "I heard it was a fleet of fully automated ships…"
"Sort of," Lando nodded. Realizing they'd been talking for a while, the former smuggler signaled to Skywalker to hold on and instructed Lobot to begin transferring the wounded to the Shieldship. There wasn't much room, but it was better than nothing…
"The Katana fleet is made up of two hundred Dreadnought-class heavy cruisers built at the Rendili shipyards," he explained. "I spent a lot of time and money trying to find them. The ships are over a hundred years old, but they can still pack a punch, especially in groups. They're the same class of ship that the Nomad is built from. Six hundred meters long, solid armor, second or fourth class hyperdrive, ten turbolaser batteries, twenty quad laser cannons, ten heavy laser cannons, and ion cannons—I don't remember the exact number. No fighters, just a single docking port. Nowadays, you'll see plenty of these hulks drifting around the galaxy because they require massive crews—more than sixteen thousand personnel. But the Katana fleet's ships were heavily automated—they only needed a crew of two thousand. And the flagship could direct the entire fleet's movements and attacks. So, all you'd need is two thousand crew members on the Katana itself, and you could control the entire fleet. Of course, that's assuming no one boards your ships and takes them over manually."
"It's strange that such a fleet disappeared," Luke observed.
"The crew of the flagship got infected with the hive virus," Lando explained. The Jedi shuddered, clearly recognizing the name. Even on Tatooine, they must have heard of that horror. "Yeah, it's a nasty piece of work. Drives you insane, and your body eats itself alive. In short, total madness…"
"So, no one knows where these ships are?" Luke asked, surprised. "They would be a huge asset to the New Republic in fighting the Empire."
"If anyone knew, they would have surfaced long ago," Lando sighed, remembering the fortune he'd poured into the wild goose chase for the Katana fleet. "But there's as much solid information about those ships as there is about the Sa Nalaor. Consider it a legend… Though, I wouldn't be surprised if the bureaucrats of the Old Republic found the fleet long ago and sold it for scrap. Or it might have been destroyed during the Clone Wars—those battles were so intense that our skirmishes with the Empire seem like child's play in comparison. It's like every day was another Battle of Endor…"
Lando fell silent when he noticed the young Jedi's somber expression. Calrissian silently cursed himself. Few people knew the secret that Darth Vader was Luke and Leia's father. Lando had taken the revelation in stride, but…
"Sorry," he said quietly.
"It's nothing," Skywalker replied with a tight smile. "Just memories. It's a shame you can't use that decoy to locate the ship it was tied to. I suspect it might have belonged to a Dark Jedi from Bfassh who perished on Dagobah. But maybe I'm chasing shadows."
They sat in silence for a few moments before Luke stood up decisively.
"Thanks for the info, Lando," he said. "I think I should head to the nearest New Republic base and request assistance for you. Since the Imperials jumped from the planet's shadow, why should my X-wing be any less capable?"
"I'd be incredibly grateful," Lando said, walking over to the young Jedi and shaking his hand firmly.
For a while, Lando watched Skywalker leave, reflecting on how much the boy from Tatooine had changed. He seemed more focused, more closed off than before. Could it be something to do with his trip to Dagobah? As he mentioned, a Dark Jedi had been killed on that planet. But by whom? Wasn't that the odd old Jedi Leia had mentioned? The one who supposedly trained Luke before he flew off to Cloud City to rescue them from Darth Vader?
Yes, the soul of a Jedi is a mysterious thing. If these were matters of the heart, Lando might have been able to offer some advice. But when it came to the Force, Calrissian was as clueless as most people in the galaxy.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone