Star Wars - Idol Intentions by Patricia A. Jackson

Author:Patricia A. Jackson [Jackson, Patricia A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 1997-02-28T10:13:57+00:00

Dissipating into the upper atmosphere, the last thin covering of haze and smoke evaporated into the night skies above Omman. Twelve kilometers from the main starport, on the grounds of an abandoned repair facility, thirty or more exterior flight lots were scattered haphazardly between dilapidated hangars, out-shelters and the stripped, corroded remains of antiquated spacecraft left in the docks for scrap. Above the vacant docking moors and ghostly platforms, the five sister moons of Omman cast a rare, blue brilliance over the haunted phantoms of the junkyard and the hull of the Steadfast.

Padija stared despondently into the distant lights of the Capital City and frowned. From the top of the Steadfast, they had a clear view of the highest city structures, including the starport. A frenzy of activity encompassed the night skies above the port and the adjoining Meril Power Station. “Have you seen anything like it?” she asked distractedly.

“Like what?”

“The moons, silly,” she replied, staring into the striking brilliance of the port and the backdrop of Omman’s moons in the distance.

Leaning against the communications disk. Drake straightened his tall frame. “Nothing like it within a hundred light years or more.”

Padija took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Do you think the Imperials will come looking for us here?”

“I doubt if they’ll come out this far. The Empire’s known for its single-mindedness. They’ll concentrate their troops and ships on the starport, hoping that we’ll try to sneak back into the city and then into the port.” Drake followed her gaze to the lights of the Omman capital, sensing her anxiety and need for distraction. “How’s the old man?”

“He’s sleeping peacefully now. Nikaede offered to watch him for me.” She turned her head slightly so as to hide the tear streaming down her cheek. “I needed to get some fresh air.”

After a moment she mustered a thin smile. “Ouch,” she whispered, noting the discoloration around his eye. “Did you do that falling off the speeder bike? I told you those things were dangerous. Let me have a look at that.” She took the glowrod from Drake’s belt and covered the light with her hand to shield them from discovery.

Squinting into the abrupt glare, Drake flinched at the gentle prodding of her fingers. Nearly a head taller than her, he tilted his chin upward in protest to the examination and tolerated her impatient glare with an impish grin.

“Be still!” she insisted, observing the bruise swelling at his temple and around his left eye. “That’s going to swell shut in another hour. Do you have any chill pacs?”

“In the medkit.” He pointed to the small satchel laying beneath the laser turret. A bundle of bloody antiseptic wipes was laying beside it from where he had cleaned the superficial cuts suffered in the fall from the speeder bike. He winced as he gently ran his fingertips over the bruise.

Padija retrieved the chill pac and gave it a firm shake. The motion and a slap against her thigh activated the cooling solution inside. “So tell me something, Drake Paulsen.

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