Only in times o f emergency. Well, the whole galaxy was facing a time of emergency. Ben shoved at the metal panel that constituted the mechanical opener, to be used in times of power failure, and he felt his shoulders hunch up again as he unconsciously anticipated an activated alarm.
But none came. Seha had done her job well. The door swung smoothly into a very short permacrete corridor, unlit, and there was an identical door at the far end, five meters away.
Ben responsibly shut the first door behind him, making sure that it latched into place. He might be disobeying the wishes of his father, but that was no excuse for exposing the Jedi Temple to possible intrusion by an enemy. The order had enemies, like the woman his father kept mentioning, Lumiya.
The second door also opened without activating an alarm, but sound washed over Ben anyway, and warm, heavy air-it was raining, individual drops pinging off a surface over his head. In the moments before his eyes adjusted he could see the lights of traffic streams to his right, but they were broken up, somehow disconnected. He doused his glow rod and shut this door, too.
When his eyes did adjust, he found that he was in a strange durasteel framework, long and narrow like a corridor. The floor and ceiling were metal sheeting, but the sides were mostly vertical metal bars with very narrow gaps between them. Through the gaps to the left, he could see only dressed stone, probably the Temple exterior; to the right was darkness and Coruscant cityscape.
Quietly, he moved toward the end of this pseudocorridor and could feel it sway slightly under his feet. And at the end, its purpose became evident. There he found a stand-up-set of mechanical controls-several sets of wheels to spin. It took him only a few moments to work out their functions.
This was a telescoping access. One wheel would cause it to stretch out to its maximum length, and as it extended, the metal bars all along its length would thin out. Other wheels allowed the controller to change the angle at which it was attached to the Temple-up, down, right, left. Thoughtful use of the controls would allow its operator to place the end at some lower level on the Temple building or stretch out toward a traffic lane, enabling rescue speeders to pick up those fleeing the building in time of fire or invasion.
Ben spun the wheel that opened the end door. He stood out on the exit ramp and looked down. Below was the exterior wall of the Temple, nearly featureless at this point, sloping slightly downward into the depths of Galactic City.
All he had to do was descend, find transportation to a minor spaceport four hundred kilometers away, present the false documentation that had waited with his new clothes in the locker, and board a run-down excursion transport bound for Almania.
Easy.
KUAT SYSTEM
LOVE COMMANDER
“Establish communications,” Lando said.
“I really think,” Leia said, “you’re letting this whole `captain’ thing go to your head.”
Lando gave her a long, thoughtful look. “You’re right. Dearest Leia, friend of decades, noble Jedi Knight, please do one more favor for this old, old man before his vital spirit leaves his faltering body…”
She gave him a long-suffering look. “Forget I said anything. Ready to broadcast…”
“No, not that. I meant, come live with me. Tendra would understand, I’m sure of it.”
She sighed. “Yes, Han, you can shoot him.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” her husband said. “If I shot him now, I’d never learn just how deep into trouble he could talk himself.”
“Ready to broadcast … now,” Leia said, and pressed a switch on the comm board.
“This is Bescat Offdurmin, master of the Looooove Commander,” Lando said. “Approaching the Errant Venture. Do you read, Venture? Over.”
“Errant Venture flight coordination here, Love Commander. We read you.” On Lando’s display, the distant view of the Errant Venture, the galaxy’s sole Star Destroyer to bear a lurid red paint job, faded and was replaced by the face of a young red Twi’lek woman. Narrow orange and yellow piping had been artfully applied to her lekku, and the top portion of her clothing, visible at the bottom of the screen, suggested she was wearing a black evening dress rather than a ship’s uniform.
“We have a reservation and landing authorization. Looooove Commander and the All-Clown Squadron of Fun.”
The woman glanced down, presumably at a data screen.
“So you do. You’re cleared for landing …” Her voice trailed off and she looked again, obviously not prepared for what she’d seen. “In the Flag Hangar. I’m sending a guidance beacon on your frequency, now.”
“Thank you.”
The Twi’lek smiled and the screen went dark. “What’s a flag hangar?” Lando asked.