BESPIN
“Are you certain you’ve checked the stability of this passage?”
Dovay Hardin was wringing his hands again, a nervous tick he could never abandon. He continued to stare down the dark, decrepit corridor that he and his lone companion had discovered. Twisted girders, fallen ceiling panels, and bits of debris filled the space as far as Dovay could see. Naturally, there was no light except for the glow rod attached to his belt and his companion’s photoreceptors. Dovay was experienced enough to never expect structures as ancient as this abandoned mining platform to still have working lights, but just once he would like to be pleasantly surprised.
His companion, a modified 2-1B medical droid nicknamed Codex, trained its photoreceptors on him and answered, “I have scanned the length of the passage twice and have guaranteed that no section of wall or ceiling is in danger of collapse, nor is the floor likely to give way beneath our feet, and there is nothing among the debris that poses any risk to your well-being. As per your request, Doctor Hardin.”
“Yes, excellent,” Dovay said. It took another couple minutes to calm his nerves enough that he was willing to proceed. He lifted his dewback-leather cap to scratch his head, unclipped his glow rod, and started forward.
The senior archaeologist always leads his team into the unknown, his teacher had told him decades earlier, when he was still a young pupil on Obroa-skai. That was one of many lessons from the now-retired Professor Lerrow that Dovay held to, even if his team rarely consisted of more than Codex and himself. He decided it didn’t matter how long it took him to stomach the courage to advance forward, as long as he was the first to do so.
With his free hand, he tightened the collar of his jacket as he carefully stepped around the debris. The platform’s heating system was long dead, and though their ship had been pumping heat into the platform’s interior for several hours, it was still a little chilly for Dovay’s Neimoidian constitution. As he and Codex moved down the corridor, he spared a glance to every piece of debris, every broken girder, searching for an intact artefact or something equally interesting. Nothing caught his attention, which didn’t surprise him; these early mining platforms were the most basic of structures, and any personal effects from the original miners that had survived the devastation of the Mandalorian Wars would have been scoured away by four thousand years of Bespin’s swirling gases.
Besides, what he was most concerned with was the faint energy signature Codex had detected at the end of the corridor.
Dovay’s work over the past three years had been primarily acquiring and authenticating artefacts for his employer, avid collector Juugo the Hutt. His position was more a relationship of mutual benefit: Dovay was able to search for ancient ruins and artifacts with Juugo’s funding, and those artifacts went to Juugo, either to be sold to other collectors or stored in the Hutt’s private museum. While Dovay and Juugo shared their love of antiquity, they differed when it came to the unauthenticated side of history. Dovay didn’t believe in myths of fabled cities, powerful heroes, and fantastical entities the way Juugo did, but instead believed in the historical record. Juugo had the money, though, which meant that occasionally Dovay was sent on a wild goose chase that rarely panned out.
His current chase was one of the few that actually did pan out. There were stories on Bespin of ghost mining platforms going back hundreds of years. Tibanna gas miners and cloud car pilots claimed they glimpsed these platforms, relics from as far back as the first operation by Empress Teta, only to watch them pass behind a cloud and disappear. None had ever been truly discovered, which led people like Dovay to conclude they didn’t exist. Bespin’s gases could be dangerous for modern starships, so it was unlikely that ancient mining platforms could survive this long.
But Dovay was proven wrong when, after two weeks of Codex carefully scanning while they navigated Bespin’s clouds, they discovered a faint energy signature nowhere near a known station. They tracked it to this derelict station and slowly made their way deep into its heart, in search of the energy signature’s source. Dovay was surprised enough that the platform was still partially intact – it actually bore the emblems of Empress Teta – but he couldn’t fathom what piece of technology was still functioning after four thousand years. If he hadn’t verified the age of the platform’s superstructure personally, he would’ve been afraid the whole thing was an elaborate hoax.
They reached the end of the corridor without incident, though Dovay stepped carefully the whole way, just in case. The large door they discovered looked like it was meant to retract into the ceiling, but it had been horrible bent and partially corroded, barring them from whatever lay on the other side.
“The energy signature is beyond the door,” Codex reported flatly.
“Well then,” Dovay said, gulping down another wave of anxiety. “I’ll leave it to you to open it.”
Codex promptly bent down and grasped the bent bottom of the door with both hands – actual hands that had replaced the claws he once possessed. The old 2-1B had been modified in several ways by Juugo. In addition to the hands and a vast historical databank, Codex’s strength and durability had also been reinforced, which came in handy in these ancient locales.
Dovay shifted his cap on his head as Codex bent the door further upward, creating a space high enough that both of them could easily stoop under it. As the droid stepped back from his handiwork, the sensor attached to his arm beeped.
“What is it?”
“The energy signature inside has disappeared.”
“What?” Before his nerves could catch up to what he was doing, Dovay had hurried under the door, worried that whatever they were about to find would slip through their fingers. Even had he waited before entering, he wouldn’t have been prepared for what he saw.
He was standing at the bottom of a large elevator shaft, one that by its size was likely used for machinery or containers of Tibanna gas. Wreckage of the original elevator was strewn about the rectangular space, along with a couple cracked and empty containers, with the exception of a roughly circular space in the center. In that cleared-out circle there were two things. One was a strange, diamond-shaped metal object, lying on its side. A faint light emanated from its middle for a moment, and then quickly faded. From a distance, Dovay couldn’t tell what it was, or even what culture it might have originated from.
He was more concerned with the figure lying beside it. He inched forward carefully and saw that it was a woman, a Zabrak, wearing tattered brown robes. Her limbs were lying at odd angles, as though she had fallen. As Dovay stepped closer, he saw the bright, red stain on the left side of her chest, where he suspected one of her hearts to be. There were other, less severe burns on her arms, sides, and face. She was also missing two horns, though the rounded stumps remained.
“How ... how is this possible?” Dovay said in a whisper as Codex appeared beside him.
Before the droid could respond, the woman let out a strangled gasp.
“Are you certain you’ve checked the stability of this passage?”
Dovay Hardin was wringing his hands again, a nervous tick he could never abandon. He continued to stare down the dark, decrepit corridor that he and his lone companion had discovered. Twisted girders, fallen ceiling panels, and bits of debris filled the space as far as Dovay could see. Naturally, there was no light except for the glow rod attached to his belt and his companion’s photoreceptors. Dovay was experienced enough to never expect structures as ancient as this abandoned mining platform to still have working lights, but just once he would like to be pleasantly surprised.
His companion, a modified 2-1B medical droid nicknamed Codex, trained its photoreceptors on him and answered, “I have scanned the length of the passage twice and have guaranteed that no section of wall or ceiling is in danger of collapse, nor is the floor likely to give way beneath our feet, and there is nothing among the debris that poses any risk to your well-being. As per your request, Doctor Hardin.”
“Yes, excellent,” Dovay said. It took another couple minutes to calm his nerves enough that he was willing to proceed. He lifted his dewback-leather cap to scratch his head, unclipped his glow rod, and started forward.
The senior archaeologist always leads his team into the unknown, his teacher had told him decades earlier, when he was still a young pupil on Obroa-skai. That was one of many lessons from the now-retired Professor Lerrow that Dovay held to, even if his team rarely consisted of more than Codex and himself. He decided it didn’t matter how long it took him to stomach the courage to advance forward, as long as he was the first to do so.
With his free hand, he tightened the collar of his jacket as he carefully stepped around the debris. The platform’s heating system was long dead, and though their ship had been pumping heat into the platform’s interior for several hours, it was still a little chilly for Dovay’s Neimoidian constitution. As he and Codex moved down the corridor, he spared a glance to every piece of debris, every broken girder, searching for an intact artefact or something equally interesting. Nothing caught his attention, which didn’t surprise him; these early mining platforms were the most basic of structures, and any personal effects from the original miners that had survived the devastation of the Mandalorian Wars would have been scoured away by four thousand years of Bespin’s swirling gases.
Besides, what he was most concerned with was the faint energy signature Codex had detected at the end of the corridor.
Dovay’s work over the past three years had been primarily acquiring and authenticating artefacts for his employer, avid collector Juugo the Hutt. His position was more a relationship of mutual benefit: Dovay was able to search for ancient ruins and artifacts with Juugo’s funding, and those artifacts went to Juugo, either to be sold to other collectors or stored in the Hutt’s private museum. While Dovay and Juugo shared their love of antiquity, they differed when it came to the unauthenticated side of history. Dovay didn’t believe in myths of fabled cities, powerful heroes, and fantastical entities the way Juugo did, but instead believed in the historical record. Juugo had the money, though, which meant that occasionally Dovay was sent on a wild goose chase that rarely panned out.
His current chase was one of the few that actually did pan out. There were stories on Bespin of ghost mining platforms going back hundreds of years. Tibanna gas miners and cloud car pilots claimed they glimpsed these platforms, relics from as far back as the first operation by Empress Teta, only to watch them pass behind a cloud and disappear. None had ever been truly discovered, which led people like Dovay to conclude they didn’t exist. Bespin’s gases could be dangerous for modern starships, so it was unlikely that ancient mining platforms could survive this long.
But Dovay was proven wrong when, after two weeks of Codex carefully scanning while they navigated Bespin’s clouds, they discovered a faint energy signature nowhere near a known station. They tracked it to this derelict station and slowly made their way deep into its heart, in search of the energy signature’s source. Dovay was surprised enough that the platform was still partially intact – it actually bore the emblems of Empress Teta – but he couldn’t fathom what piece of technology was still functioning after four thousand years. If he hadn’t verified the age of the platform’s superstructure personally, he would’ve been afraid the whole thing was an elaborate hoax.
They reached the end of the corridor without incident, though Dovay stepped carefully the whole way, just in case. The large door they discovered looked like it was meant to retract into the ceiling, but it had been horrible bent and partially corroded, barring them from whatever lay on the other side.
“The energy signature is beyond the door,” Codex reported flatly.
“Well then,” Dovay said, gulping down another wave of anxiety. “I’ll leave it to you to open it.”
Codex promptly bent down and grasped the bent bottom of the door with both hands – actual hands that had replaced the claws he once possessed. The old 2-1B had been modified in several ways by Juugo. In addition to the hands and a vast historical databank, Codex’s strength and durability had also been reinforced, which came in handy in these ancient locales.
Dovay shifted his cap on his head as Codex bent the door further upward, creating a space high enough that both of them could easily stoop under it. As the droid stepped back from his handiwork, the sensor attached to his arm beeped.
“What is it?”
“The energy signature inside has disappeared.”
“What?” Before his nerves could catch up to what he was doing, Dovay had hurried under the door, worried that whatever they were about to find would slip through their fingers. Even had he waited before entering, he wouldn’t have been prepared for what he saw.
He was standing at the bottom of a large elevator shaft, one that by its size was likely used for machinery or containers of Tibanna gas. Wreckage of the original elevator was strewn about the rectangular space, along with a couple cracked and empty containers, with the exception of a roughly circular space in the center. In that cleared-out circle there were two things. One was a strange, diamond-shaped metal object, lying on its side. A faint light emanated from its middle for a moment, and then quickly faded. From a distance, Dovay couldn’t tell what it was, or even what culture it might have originated from.
He was more concerned with the figure lying beside it. He inched forward carefully and saw that it was a woman, a Zabrak, wearing tattered brown robes. Her limbs were lying at odd angles, as though she had fallen. As Dovay stepped closer, he saw the bright, red stain on the left side of her chest, where he suspected one of her hearts to be. There were other, less severe burns on her arms, sides, and face. She was also missing two horns, though the rounded stumps remained.
“How ... how is this possible?” Dovay said in a whisper as Codex appeared beside him.
Before the droid could respond, the woman let out a strangled gasp.