Read Star Wars - 210 - Jedi Prince 01 - The Glove of Darth Vader for Free Online Page A
Authors: Paul Davids, Hollace Davids
business of contacting Mon Mothma about Trioculus, Threepio and Artoo checked into the Droid Repair Shop. Threepio was given another head cover that was exactly like his old one, except that this one was shinier, without any scratches, nicks, or dents. He admired his replating job, looking at his golden color from every angle.
Artoo-Detoo also underwent a change back to his usual color. But it was his brand-new blue and silver R2 dome that made the little barrel-shaped droid spin in circles, showing how happy he was to be back to normal.
When the droids came out of the Droid Repair Shop, Luke, Threepio, and Artoo boarded a fish-shaped Calamarian minisub with Admiral Ackbar, who navigated the vessel toward the ocean floor.
"Now that we’ve sent the news to Mon Mothma about the Imperial leader Trioculus, it’s time we tried to help the Whaladons," Ackbar told them. "And the best way for me to explain the Whaladon crisis is to show you the Whaladon graveyard. From there it’s a short trip to Captain Dunwell’s undersea Whaladon Processing Center."
"Dzneeeeek?" beeped Artoo.
"Artoo wants to know what they do there," translated Threepio.
"That’s where they take the captured Whaladons and butcher them," said Admiral Ackbar.
"There they turn those beautiful, intelligent creatures into food for Imperial officers!"
"Perish the thought," said Threepio, shaking his head in dismay.
"For many years we’ve had a law on Calamari making it illegal to hunt Whaladons," explained Admiral Ackbar. "But no matter how hard we try we cannot control Captain Dunwell. He does whatever the Central Committee of Grand Moffs wants, and they want Whaladon meat, even if it means destroying the ecology of Calamari."
"Chnooozbch kjiiiik?" beeped Artoo.
"Artoo wants to know how the hunting of Whaladons harms the ecology of your planet," Threepio translated.
"The Whaladons eat the little plants, or plankton, that grow at the surface of our oceans," Ackbar explained. "If those little plants spread and become too plentiful, as they breathe they could use up all the carbon dioxide in our atmosphere-the process of photosynthesis. Without carbon dioxide our planet would get much colder. You see, we need Whaladons to keep the amount of plankton in balance, or we Calamarians could wake up one day to find ourselves in an ice age!"
Admiral Ackbar’s attention was suddenly captured by a blip on his sonar unit. "Luke, have a look at this," he said in a serious tone. He pointed to a bright circle of luminous light on the sonar screen. "The only vessel of this size in these waters is Captain Dunwell’s submarine. Let’s see what he’s up to."
Cautiously the Calamarian minisub followed the huge, dark shape lurking dead ahead. Light from luminous coral began reflecting off the Whaladon-hunting submarine, making its dark form more visible. Luke could see that the vessel was like a vast self-propelled underwater fortress.
The Calamarian minisub followed it silently, navigating the same course at a safe distance to the rear. The small size and efficient antisonar system of the Calamarian minisub made it almost impossible for an enemy to detect, except at very close range. In the cramped cabin Luke Skywalker watched through the front porthole. Threepio was tightly strapped into the rear seat, beneath the emergency navigation controls, and Artoo was pushed up against the golden droid’s knees.
Luke could see the white form of Leviathor leading a group of Whaladons away from the path of the dreaded submarine. Then he choked with horror as he saw a swirling mass of foaming dark water, like an undersea tornado, moving straight toward Leviathor. Admiral Ackbar struggled to control his little sub as it vibrated wildly in the churning water. Luke watched as Leviathor tried to escape, but the whirlpool caught hold of Leviathor as the old white Whaladon fought for his life.
The suction pulled Leviathor backward, tail first. Then Leviathor spun around and around
Artoo-Detoo also underwent a change back to his usual color. But it was his brand-new blue and silver R2 dome that made the little barrel-shaped droid spin in circles, showing how happy he was to be back to normal.
When the droids came out of the Droid Repair Shop, Luke, Threepio, and Artoo boarded a fish-shaped Calamarian minisub with Admiral Ackbar, who navigated the vessel toward the ocean floor.
"Now that we’ve sent the news to Mon Mothma about the Imperial leader Trioculus, it’s time we tried to help the Whaladons," Ackbar told them. "And the best way for me to explain the Whaladon crisis is to show you the Whaladon graveyard. From there it’s a short trip to Captain Dunwell’s undersea Whaladon Processing Center."
"Dzneeeeek?" beeped Artoo.
"Artoo wants to know what they do there," translated Threepio.
"That’s where they take the captured Whaladons and butcher them," said Admiral Ackbar.
"There they turn those beautiful, intelligent creatures into food for Imperial officers!"
"Perish the thought," said Threepio, shaking his head in dismay.
"For many years we’ve had a law on Calamari making it illegal to hunt Whaladons," explained Admiral Ackbar. "But no matter how hard we try we cannot control Captain Dunwell. He does whatever the Central Committee of Grand Moffs wants, and they want Whaladon meat, even if it means destroying the ecology of Calamari."
"Chnooozbch kjiiiik?" beeped Artoo.
"Artoo wants to know how the hunting of Whaladons harms the ecology of your planet," Threepio translated.
"The Whaladons eat the little plants, or plankton, that grow at the surface of our oceans," Ackbar explained. "If those little plants spread and become too plentiful, as they breathe they could use up all the carbon dioxide in our atmosphere-the process of photosynthesis. Without carbon dioxide our planet would get much colder. You see, we need Whaladons to keep the amount of plankton in balance, or we Calamarians could wake up one day to find ourselves in an ice age!"
Admiral Ackbar’s attention was suddenly captured by a blip on his sonar unit. "Luke, have a look at this," he said in a serious tone. He pointed to a bright circle of luminous light on the sonar screen. "The only vessel of this size in these waters is Captain Dunwell’s submarine. Let’s see what he’s up to."
Cautiously the Calamarian minisub followed the huge, dark shape lurking dead ahead. Light from luminous coral began reflecting off the Whaladon-hunting submarine, making its dark form more visible. Luke could see that the vessel was like a vast self-propelled underwater fortress.
The Calamarian minisub followed it silently, navigating the same course at a safe distance to the rear. The small size and efficient antisonar system of the Calamarian minisub made it almost impossible for an enemy to detect, except at very close range. In the cramped cabin Luke Skywalker watched through the front porthole. Threepio was tightly strapped into the rear seat, beneath the emergency navigation controls, and Artoo was pushed up against the golden droid’s knees.
Luke could see the white form of Leviathor leading a group of Whaladons away from the path of the dreaded submarine. Then he choked with horror as he saw a swirling mass of foaming dark water, like an undersea tornado, moving straight toward Leviathor. Admiral Ackbar struggled to control his little sub as it vibrated wildly in the churning water. Luke watched as Leviathor tried to escape, but the whirlpool caught hold of Leviathor as the old white Whaladon fought for his life.
The suction pulled Leviathor backward, tail first. Then Leviathor spun around and around
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