Timothy Zahn - Survivor's Quest

Or perhaps the Chaf Envoy had a really good set of tractor beams.

There were three other Geroons in the ship when he and Bearsh arrived, and it was quickly evident that the steward's adulation in the dining salon had actually been greatly restrained. The other Geroons clustered around him practically from the moment he ducked through the rusty hatchway, blathering excitedly and repeating over and over again how much of an honor it was to have him aboard, until he was about as embarrassed as he'd ever been in his life.

Several times he tried gently to explain that he wasn't really someone who deserved such adulation. But all it did was inspire fresh salvos of praise even more insistent and pathetic than what had gone before.

Eventually, he gave up. Whatever those aboard Outbound Flight had done for these people, it was so deeply ingrained that even after fifty years there was no holding it back. All he could do was endure it, try not to let it go to his head, and hope they would eventually run out of adjectives.

"All right," he said when they had finally quieted down enough to sit around a small table together. "I've pulled all the information I have on Outer Rim systems. Just bear in mind that a lot of these systems aren't members of the New Republic, and a lot more give only token allegiance. But if we can help you, we will. Now, what sort of world exactly are you looking for?"

"One with air like this," Bearsh said, waving a hand around him. "Less full and flavorful than the Chiss air."

Probably meant a lower oxygen content, Luke decided. "Okay," he said, keying that parameter into the datapad. "I presume you need water, too. What about climate and terrain?"

"We need places for the children to play," one of the other Geroons put in eagerly. "Many places, for many children to play."

"Peace, young one," Bearsh soothed, his mouths opening in another toothy Geroon smile. "On an entire world, there will be plenty of places for the children."

He turned back to Luke. "You must excuse Estosh," he said quietly. "He has never known life anywhere but within our vessel."

"I understand," Luke said. "I can tell your people put great store in your children, too."

"How do you know that?" Bearsh asked, his face puckering oddly. Then it cleared. "Ah—of course. The great and renowned powers of the jedi."

"Actually, there was nothing special needed on this one," Luke said. "We saw your earlier conversation with the Chiss. Any people who would put a playground right in their command center must certainly care a lot for their children."

"Ah," Bearsh said. "Yes. Our vessel was originally built for scientific surveys. That space was designed to contain the center for instrument responses." His face puckered again. "It was the only place large enough for a proper play and exercise area. All the rest of the vessel is composed of small rooms for the singles and families. We had no need for the instruments, so we took them out and gave the space to the children."

He straightened his head and shoulders, his eyes unfocusing as if gazing into the future. "But one day," he said firmly. "One day we will have a real place for the children. And then you will see, Jedi Master Skywalker, what the Geroon people can become."

"I'll look forward to it," Luke promised. "Now, about terrain?"

Bearsh seemed to come back from his dreams. "We will live in whatever grounds you find for us," he said. "Mountains or lakes, woodlands or plains—it does not matter."

"All right," Luke said. They certainly weren't a picky lot. "What about temperature ranges?"

Again, Bearsh waved his hand. "The temperature in this vessel is somewhat warm for us," he said. "But we will adapt and adjust to whatever—"

He broke off as the deck beneath them gave a sudden gentle jolt. "What was that?" Estosh asked fearfully, looking quickly around.

A second later they had their answer as a distant thunderclap echoed faintly through the open hatchway. "An explosion," Luke told him, jumping to his feet and sprinting toward the entry tunnel, stretching out to the Force as he pulled out his comlink. The opposite side of the ship, he estimated from the sudden surge of consternation in that direction, somewhere in the aft quarter. "Mara?"

"We've got an explosion and fire on the aft port side," her voice came back. "I'm heading back to see if I can help."

"I'll join you," Luke said, clearing the end of the entry tunnel and heading for the nearest cross-ship corridor. "Any idea what's back there?"

"Fel's transport, for one thing," Mara told him. "No idea what else, but from the way Drask took off I'd guess something serious. Vital equipment, or possibly fuel storage."

Luke winced. "Right. See you there."

The air began to smell of smoke before he was halfway down the main portside corridor. He kept going; and then, suddenly, he was there, braking to a halt behind a dozen Chiss with handheld extinguishers running into a half-open door through which smoke was pouring. He spotted Mara off to one side with Fel and eased his way past a Chiss in military dress uniform shouting orders in a sharp, staccato language. "Situation?" he called to Mara.

"The fire's right by a nexus of maneuvering jets and their fuel supply," she told him grimly. She'd stripped off her fancy jacket and gown, and was dressed now only in the gray combat leotard and soft-boots she'd been wearing underneath the formal wear. "The stormtroopers are already inside with extinguishers, trying to keep it away from the tanks."

Luke looked over at Fel. The young Imperial was wearing a stormtrooper's headset comlink, an intense expression on his face as he stared through the open door. "Don't they have automatic extinguisher systems?" he asked.

"They used to," Mara said. "Apparently, a malfunction in the system was what caused the explosion in the first place."

"That's useful," Luke said, blinking back tears as the acrid smoke stung his eyes. Some of the Chiss who had gone into the fire zone were starting to come out now, most of them staggering slightly as they trailed plumes of smoke. "How come the stormtroopers are in there?"

"They were the first ones on the scene with self-contained breathing equipment," Fel said before Mara could answer. "Speaking of breathing, how are Jedi in oxygen-poor atmospheres?"

"We can handle a few minutes," Luke said. "Less, if there's a lot of physical or mental exertion involved. What do you need?"

"Some delicate lightsaber work." Fel pointed to the doorway through which the smoke was pouring. "They've got the fuel tanks isolated for the moment, but the fire's got too much of a head start and it's pushing in on them. They think they've located the extinguisher system—"

"They think?"

"That's why the work needs to be delicate," Fel said. "Otherwise, they'd just blast the lines open and be done with it. What we need is for you to lightly scratch the conduits, just enough to let out a few drops so we can see exactly what kind of liquid's inside. The last thing we want is to dump more fuel or something else flammable."

"No kidding," Mara said. "Assuming they're right, then what?"

"Then you cut them all the way open," Fel said. "It looks like the explosion only warped the area around the main spray valves, so if you can open the lines behind them we should be able to flood the compartment and put it out in short order."

Luke looked over at the dress-uniformed Chiss, now huddled with a pair of crewers strapping on air tanks and breather masks. Protocol, he knew, probably dictated that they clear this with one of the ship's officers before going in.

But the officer looked too busy to listen to passengers. And if the fire was already getting close to the fuel tanks... "All right," he said, coming to a decision. "How do I find the conduit?"