CHAPTER 13

The crab-shaped droids scurried all over the captain's body. Their metal legs pricked his skin. Their repair claws tore at his clothes and bit into his flesh. One of them was clinging to his face, covering his mouth and snapping at his eyes.

Captain Hajj let go of the cables with one hand and plucked the little droids off his body. But they were fast, and several of them scurried onto his back, out of his reach, jabbing and pinching him mercilessly.

Dash started to slide back down the cable. "Hang on, Captain, I'm coming. "

One of the maintenance droids scrambled from Hajj's back onto his shoulders, looking right into his face. A tiny spout rose from its back, and a jet of liquid shot into the captain's face. The liquid hissed as it struck his skin.

Hajj screamed. Instinctively, he scratched at his burning face with both hands, letting go of the cables.

Captain Hajj dropped down the cable pipe, leaving only the echo of his cries of pain.

The crablike droids turned to Dash, Zak, and Tash, and started scrambling up the cables.

"Time to move!" Dash ordered. "Climb, climb, climb!" Zak shinnied the bundle of cables like it was a tree. "Watch out for that stuff they squirt!" Dash called out.

"It's cleansing fluid. It burns like acid!"

"How much farther?" Tash cried.

"I don't know," Zak said, but at that moment his hand touched the end of the pipe. All the cables turned and went through a metal grate.

Through the grate, Zak could see a room full of technical equipment.

"We're there."

"Kick it in!" Dash said.

Gripping the cables tightly, Zak pulled his foot up and kicked the grate. It didn't budge. He kicked again and again. On the fourth kick, the grate popped open and he shoved his legs through, sliding into the room. Tash followed headfirst.

Dash was right behind her, gritting his teeth and muttering something Zak had never heard before. It was either a different language or a swear word or both. Dragging himself into the comm room, the pilot immediately turned and reached down for his foot. A crab droid had dug its pincer into his boot and was cutting at his toe. Dash scooped the small, droid up and hurled it against the wall where it shattered into a dozen pieces.

Zak shoved the grating back into place as the rest of the crab-droids tried to scuttle through. Only when the hole was sealed off did he let out a sigh of relief.

"Captain Hajj," Tash said, her voice almost a whisper. "He was a brave man."

"No time for that," Dash said coldly. "We're here. Let's do what needs to be done."

They were definitely in the communications section. Nearby was an open corridor leading to another bank of turbolifts-the way they would have arrived at the comm room if their plans hadn't been sabotaged. As Zak walked into the room, his eyes fell on the stacks of technical equipment.

Zak remembered machinery the way most people remembered faces, and he recognized the assorted equipment as HoloNet receivers, Commnet transmitters, and a variety of translation devices that must have served the hundreds of species that traveled aboard the Star of Empire.

"Where's the transmitter?" Dash said. "That's what we need to send a distress signal."

"And we need to find it fast before Malik finds something else to throw at us," Tash agreed.

"Down there!" Zak guessed.

At the far end of the room were two doors. One was open, leading to a hallway. The other was closed. "The transmitter must be in there."

A few long-legged strides carried Dash toward the door. As he approached, the door automatically slid open, and beyond they could see several empty chairs placed before a transmitting station. Dash stepped into the open doorway.

As he did, the heavy door slammed shut with the force of a rocket, crushing Dash against the door frame.