Star Wars - Darth Plagueis

the warm world behind and jumped from cold ether into the netherworld of hyperspace. Lah was still seated at the communications console when Blir’ radioed her from the cockpit.
    “We need your input on something.”
    “Since when?” she said.
    “Seriously.”
    She headed forward, and had no sooner ducked into the cockpit than Semasalli indicated a flashing telltale on the ship’s status display suite. A small metal plate below the telltale read: CARGO BAY 4 AMBIENT .
    “Too hot or too cold?” Lah asked the Dresselian.
    “Too cold.”
    Lah flicked her forefinger against the telltale, but it continued to flash. “Funny, that usually works.” She studied Semasalli’s frown. “What do you think?”
    He sniffed and ran a hand over a hairless, deeply fissured head that mirrored the appearance of the convoluted brain it contained. “Well, it could be the bay thermostat.”
    “Or?”
    “Or one of the shipping containers could have opened?”
    “By itself?”
    “Maybe during the jump,” Blir’ said from the pilot’s chair.
    “Okay, so we go check it out.” She glanced from Blir’ to Semasalli and shook her head in ignorance. “What aren’t you telling me?”
    Blir’ answered for the two of them. “Remember the Zabrak that Maa was talking to in the cantina?”
    “Which cantina?” Lah said; then added: “No, I remember him. He was looking for a lift.”
    Semasalli nodded. “He’d been booted from his last freighter. He didn’t say why, but Maa thought he smelled trouble, and said we couldn’t take him aboard.”
    Lah followed the clues they were giving her and nodded. “You’re thinking we have a stowaway.”
    “Just a thought,” the Dresselian said.
    “Which is why you wanted to check with me before going aft.”
    “Exactly.”
    Lah’s face grew almost as wrinkled as Semasalli’s. “The ship would have told us if anyone had tampered with the anti-intrusion sys.”
    “Unless he came in with the cargo?” Blir’ said.
    “You mean inside one of the containers?”
    Blir’ nodded.
    “Then he’d be stiff as an icicle by now.” Lah turned to Semasalli. “Does bay four have a vid feed?”
    “On screen,” Semasalli said, swiveling his chair to face the status displays.
    Lah put her palms flat on the console and leaned toward the screen while the Dresselian brought up grainy views of the cargo bay. Finally the remote cam found what they were looking for: an opened shipping container, wreathed by clouds of coolant, with its cargo of costly meat-fins already defrosting.
    “Spawn of a—” Lah started when the next view of the cargo bay stunned her into slack-jawed silence.
    Blir’ blinked repeatedly before asking, “Is that what I think it is?”
    Lah swallowed hard and found her voice. “Well, it sure isn’t the Zabrak.”
    Plagueis was seated atop one of the smaller shipping containers when the hatch began to cycle. Fully awake since the Woebegone ’s jump to hyperspace, he had sat still for the various scans the crew had run, and now lowered the hood of the lightweight and bloodied robe. When the hatch slid to, he found himself confronted by the ship’s Togruta female captain, along with a muscular male Zabrak; a mottled Klatooinian as tall as a normal Muun; an Aqualish of the two-eyed variety; and a scarlet-hued, scaly-skinned Kaleesh, whose face resembled those of the bats Plagueis had consumed on Bal’demnic, and who was emitting an olio of potent pheromones. All five carried blasters, but only the Klatooinian’s was primed for fire and leveled at Plagueis.
    “You’re not listed on the shipping manifest, stranger,” Captain Lah said as she stepped into the bay, breath clouds emerging with the words.
    Plagueis spread his hands in an innocent gesture. “I confess to being a stowaway, Captain.”
    Lah approached guardedly, motioning to the open container a few meters away. “How did you survive in there?”
    Plagueis mimicked the wave of her hand. “Those sea creatures make a comfortable bed.”
    The Zabrak surged forward, his stippled cranium furrowed in anger. “Those creatures are how we make our living, Muun. And right now they’re not worth a karking credit.”
    Plagueis locked eyes with him. “I apologize for spoiling some of your cargo.”
    “The coolant,” Lah said more harshly. “How did you survive that?”
    “We Muuns have three hearts,” Plagueis said, crossing one leg over the other. “Two of them are under voluntary control, so I was able to