Splinter in the Mind’s Eye by Alan Dean Foster

The cloaked figure nodded energetically….

VI

“TAKE it easy,” Luke complained, shrugging his arm free of the trooper who was escorting them down the long, narrow stone hallway. As they paced, Luke took the opportunity to study the damp, dripping walls. Some of them showed dark moss. Clearly, the omnipresent moisture of Mimban penetrated the old walls here.

“You’d think the Imperial government could have invested some credit in modern quarters,” he murmured.

“Why,” the subofficer ahead of them wanted to know, “when the primitives of this world left us such useful structures?”

“A temple, a place of worship, and it’s been turned into offices and a prison,” the Princess declared angrily.

“The Empire does what is necessary,” the subofficer observed in a phlegmatic manner which would have gratified his superiors. “I am told this mining is an expensive venture. The Empire is smart enough to save where it is able,” he concluded with pride.

“That probably extends to your pay and retirement benefits,” the Princess ventured maliciously.

“That’s enough talk from the prisoners,” the disgruntled subofficer decided aloud, unhappy with the turn the conversation had taken. They rounded a sharp corner. A network of intersecting diagonal bars formed an unbreakable mesh at the end of the corridor.

“Here’s your new home,” the subofficer informed them. “Inside you can muse about what the Empire has in store for your future.” As the subofficer passed a palm over the wall on his immediate right, an unbarred ellipsoid appeared in the center of the metal grill.