by Martha Wells
With a sigh, Luke slid out of the engine hatch and dropped to the deck. Pulling his protective goggles off, he asked, “What is it? I thought you were trying to get that isolator installed.” Turning around, he saw who was standing there and stopped short. “Oh, General Madine.”
Madine didn’t answer immediately, his cool glance taking in snubfighter cradles and tech stations nearby, as if checking to see how many were occupied. The fighter repair bay for the Independence was normally crowded with pilots, techs, droids, and other support personnel, repairing damaged fighters, keeping up their maintenance schedules, or practicing in the simulators kept at the far end of the bay. But it was near the shift change, and few voices echoed around the big space. Wedge and the other members of Red Squadron were off on a mission; Luke should have been with them, but his X-wing’s targeting computer had started to throw error codes at the last minute and his part in the mission had been scrubbed for now. Keeping his voice low, Madine asked, “Can you be ready to leave with Chewbacca immediately?”
“Yes, sir.” Luke glanced at Chewie. Wookiees didn’t show concern the same way humans did, but his posture conveyed tension and impatience. “Do you want me to put together a squad?”
“No, just you,” Madine said. “Come aboard the Falcon where we can speak privately, and I’ll give you the coordinates and explain.”
Luke didn’t miss the significance of “aboard the Falcon where we can speak privately.” If Madine was worried about being overheard on one of the flight decks of the Independence …
This can’t be good.
As the Gamble exited hyperspace, there was a clunk that left Leia’s hands white-knuckled on the arms of the comm chair in auxiliary control. Han was piloting, with Ilen as backup, and both men hurriedly worked over the consoles, shutting down the hyperdrive. Something deep inside the ship made the deck vibrate. An alarm started to shriek, and Han absently slapped a control to shut it down. Leia could see various readouts creeping up into the red again.
Then the vibration sputtered to a halt and the stars streaked back into reality.
“The hyperdrive is offline,” Ilen said with relief.
“Nice job,” Han commented absently, and Leia saw the back of Ilen’s neck flush with self-consciousness. Han tended to be sparing with compliments to other pilots.
“Do we still have sublights?” Leia asked. She looked at the sensor screen just as a recognition code for Arnot Station popped up. She allowed herself a silent, relieved breath. They had made it. The station was only a short distance away, within easy reach of a distress call if the Gamble failed now.
“We have one engine. It’s holding stable,” Ilen said.
“So far,” Han said, confirming Leia’s long-held belief that he was the most pessimistic person she had ever met.
Ilen asked, “Should I take us in, Your Highness?”
“Yes, let’s get into dock as quickly as possible.”
A check of the sensors confirmed that the station was on the outskirts of a system that included several inhabited planets, all of them listing small agricultural settlements. There was no sign of Imperial presence. As they drew closer to the station, the bright blob on the sensor screen resolved into an image of a large torus with a docking ring all along its center. It was clearly ancient and battered, with hatches marred by old burns from docking accidents, and hull plates that were pitted and blast-scarred.
And then the sensor alarms went off.
CHAPTER THREE
Han said, “What now?”
Leia gripped the arms of her seat. Not again! “Imperials?” The comm came to life with a gabble of conflicting transmissions.
Han shook his head. “Somebody else is having a lousy day, too.”
Leia frowned at the screen, not understanding, as Ilen hit the ship’s alert to warn engineering and gunnery. Then the sensor screen resolved into a blurry image.
Between the Gamble and the space station, two ships were locked in combat. At first, all Leia could make out was that one seemed to have the advantage over the other, and that neither was broadcasting an Imperial ID. The current winner was larger than the Gamble, sleek, and well armed, but the sensors couldn’t get a clear image of it.
Ilen said, “The one under attack is a freighter …”
“Yeah, a real freighter, unlike us,” Han said, hands moving over the controls to coax more data out of the sensors. “No extra weapons.”
Leia tensed as a distress call sounded from the comm. At least one other frequency was open, and it was broadcasting shouts of alarm, sobbing, frantic commands, and the rumble of blast impacts. Han said, “The ID is for some agricultural mercantile from what sounds like a local system. The attacking ship … Yeah, that’s a faked ID.” He looked up at the screen. “We’re looking at a pirate.”
Ilen threw a worried glance back at Leia. “We can’t help the freighter … can we?”
Leia set her jaw. The comm transmissions were making more sense now, as the system sorted them and upped the gain on the urgent ones. One was a desperate plea to the station, the voice tripping and slurring through the words in Basic. There were twenty-three beings on board, the speaker was saying, all civilian traders. The comm controller on the station returned a reassuring litany that help was coming soon. Leia could see on the screen that the station was too far away for its defensive weapons to drive off the pirates. It didn’t look to her as if a rescue ship would even arrive in time.
And the Gamble was just too damaged to help.
“We can’t afford to intervene,” Leia said, hardening her voice, trying to keep the emotion out of it. She saw Ilen’s shoulders slump in resignation.
“We’ve got compromised deflector shields, the hyperdrive is out, and the sublights are hanging on by pure luck,” Han elaborated. “We’ve got no choice, here.”
“I know,” Leia muttered. But it didn’t matter how good their excuse was: they were still leaving the crew of the merchant ship to die or be taken prisoner.
The sensor view wheeled and compensated as Han changed course. Readouts redlined and beeped in alarm as the Gamble’s strained systems protested. He took the ship above the battle, out of range of the other ships’ guns, then jerked his chin at Ilen. “Hail the station, tell them we’re coming in with sublight damage, and we can’t assist the freighter.” He added, “At least now we won’t need a fancy cover story to explain how we got shot up.”
Leia agreed. As Ilen contacted the station, she watched the sensor view. She couldn’t take her eyes off it, much as she wanted to. The merchant ship still fought back, firing a quad laser at the pirates, but, as Han had pointed out, it didn’t have the Gamble’s augmented systems, and its weapons were woefully inadequate. She told herself they were lucky the pirates had trapped the freighter, and not the Gamble, on station approach, but she didn’t feel lucky. I’m so tired of watching and not being able to do anything to—Then the sensors beeped to signal a fix on the pirate ship, and a clear schematic of it popped up on the screen.
“What?” Leia sat up straight as a bolt of cold shock went through her. “That’s an Alderaanian gunship!”
Han stared at the screen, brow furrowed. “What, the pirate?”
“Yes!” Leia snapped, cold shock turning to hot fury. She tore at the buckles of her straps, fuming. “I know where all the gunships are.” After Alderaan’s destruction, the surviving gunships had all managed to contact the Alliance, some of them badly damaged, their crews injured. “Display the ID!”
Han put the string of ID information up on the screen. “It’s a fake, Your Worship,” he said pointedly. “The planet of origin—”
“That doesn’t matter, the ship is Alderaanian. The name—” The name was the Aegis. She knew that ship, or at least knew of it. She didn’t think she had met the officers or crew personally. All the other information in the ID string was false, but whoever had altered it hadn’t bothered to change the name. “I know that ship. It was on the system defense patrol.”
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The gunships had been a deterrent, meant to protect Alderaan’s system, trade routes, and commercial shipping from just this kind of attack. They gave assistance to ships in trouble, protected and assisted civilian traffic. Not all of them had been officially accounted for, but that was to be expected: when the planet was destroyed, some must have been grounded on Alderaan, and some must have been close enough to the planet that they had been caught in the blast wave. She had been certain all the surviving Alderaanian naval ships had been found. This one must have been attacked at some vulnerable moment before it could make contact with the Alliance, taken by the pirates, and the crew … She had to know where the crew was.
It was like having an old wound ripped open, except this wound had never closed. She had just learned to pretend it didn’t exist, most of the time.
She shoved to her feet and stepped up behind Ilen to reach the comm board. She put one of the spare headsets on and silenced the other frequencies, then opened a new one to call the gunship. She made it a closed connection, so the station wouldn’t be able to monitor the transmission. Ilen stared at her, wide-eyed, and Han said, “Leia, stop! You’re just gonna get their attention—”
Leia ignored him, too blind with fury to care. “Aegis, I know you were an Alderaanian gunship. If you tell me where you obtained the ship and where the original crew is, I won’t fire on you.”
Leia heard Han swear. She just hoped her bluff would work. Her pulse was pounding so hard she couldn’t hear herself think. She wasn’t sure what response she wanted from the pirates. They would have killed the crew, or sold them into slavery somewhere across the galaxy. Even in the latter case, it must be far too late to save them. Unless she could find out what system they had been sold in …
She said into the comm, “I just want to know what you did with the crew.”
“They’ve stopped firing on the freighter,” Ilen said, his voice low and tense.
Han said, “That’s because they’re about to start firing on us.”
He probably isn’t wrong. Leia watched the sensors. The merchant freighter hung helpless in space. It had stopped returning fire and was apparently no longer able to use this opportunity to flee. The Aegis hadn’t changed its position. Leia could tell from the gunship’s outline that it had been augmented, though she wasn’t sure exactly how. Most pirates had special equipment for locking onto captive ships and drilling through hatches, as well as other methods of subduing their prey.
The comm was silent. The Aegis would be reading the Gamble’s ID by this point; it was legitimate, listing the ship’s original commissioning on Sullust. She hit the pickup’s mute to tell Han, “Keep heading toward the station.”
“Yeah, Your Worship, I thought we’d do that.” He checked the sensors again. “You could’ve waited until we were a little closer to the station’s defense perimeter.”
Yes, she probably could have. If I was in my right mind, Leia thought, I would have. She stared at the comm, willing it to respond.
Then the comm beeped, and a voice from the Aegis said, “Who are you? How did you know this ship was Alderaanian?”
The voice spoke Basic, and Leia thought it might be human, might be female, but through the faint but persistent static it was hard to tell. She hesitated. Despite her hopes, she had been expecting to be told to go to hell, or to be told that the crew had been spaced, or that it was none of her business, or most likely to get no answer at all. This sounded as if someone on the ship was willing to talk. She turned the pickup on again and replied, “I recognized it. I’m a survivor of Alderaan.”
Urgent now, the voice said, “Tell me … Tell me who you are. Tell me how you survived.”
Han leaned past Ilen and hit the mute on the comm board again. He said to Leia, “They want you to keep talking.”
“I know that.” Leia bit her lip, tried to push aside her anger and fear for the fate of the Aegis’s former crew, to think this out logically. “If they’re trying to stall us …”
Earnest and worried, Ilen said, “If we stall them, the station might be able to send ships out here to help the merchant freighter.”
“That’s the point I’m trying to make here,” Han said, exasperated. “We’re the ones who should be stalling them—”
“—so why do they want me to keep talking?” Leia finished. She glanced at the sensor screens again but the Aegis still hadn’t moved, and the Gamble was too far away now to get a weapons lock on the gunship unless it changed position. Tell me how you survived, she thought. Why that question, phrased that way?
She pushed Han’s hand off the mute and said into the comm, “I was offplanet. Why do you want to know? Tell me who you are.” She hesitated, her heart pounding, and spoke on a hunch. “Tell me how you survived.”
There was a silence that seemed to go on forever. At last the voice said, “I was offplanet.”
Leia nodded to herself. Han shook his head, mouthed the words, She’s just repeating what you said.
But the voice continued talking. “We were on the far end of our patrol circuit, at the outer rim of the system. The sensors picked up the blast wave. We tried to go back, to see for ourselves … but there were Star Destroyers in the system. We fled.”
Leia wet her lips. The Aegis must have been boarded at some point after that by pirates, before it could reach an Alliance base, or meet up with other surviving Alderaanian ships. But if there was one survivor of the crew aboard, there might be more. “Who has control of the ship now?”
There was another hesitation. Then: “I do. I’m Captain Caline Metara.”
Leia’s throat went dry. “Of the House of Metara?”
“Yes.” The word was almost breathless.
Leia couldn’t believe it. The Metara family had served for generations as councilors and ambassadors in Alderaan’s government. The ones who hadn’t gone into planetary service had been teachers, researchers, physicians. This had to be a trick. “How do I know you’re not lying?” she demanded, her voice coming out harsh and strained.
“My mother was Gerane Metara; our family seat was in Crevasse City.” Metara’s voice rose in frustration. “Tell me who you are! I almost … I think I recognize your voice, but it can’t be …”
Leia had to be sure. “What was your father’s name? What was his last post?”
“His name was Stavin and he was an artist. It was my mother who was an administrator in the education council.” Metara’s voice hardened. “I’ve answered all your questions. Tell me who you are!”
Han shook his head frantically at her. But Leia said, “I’m Princess Leia Organa.”
The comm went silent. Ignoring Han’s swearing, Leia said, “Why did you attack that merchant ship?” She couldn’t believe the Aegis’s crew had chosen this course voluntarily. There had to be some reason for it. Maybe they believed the merchant ship was working for the Empire …
“We attacked it.” Metara’s words were clipped, harsh. “We attacked it because that’s what we do to survive now.”
An Alderaanian crew, members of the planetary protection and defense force, had turned pirate? A sick sensation grew in Leia’s chest.
“We intend to sell the cargo,” Metara continued. “We won’t hurt the crew.”
Won’t hurt the crew. Leia’s vision almost whited out from pure anger. Only years of training and iron self-control kept her voice even. “You’ve already harmed the crew. You know that, unless you muted their distress calls.”
Metara didn’t answer.
Leia grimaced. The silence meant Metara knew that her ship had already killed or injured some of the merchant’s personnel. She took a deep breath, forcing her anger down. She didn’t want to back Metara into a corner. Not just yet. She tried again. “Let the merchant ship go, and we can talk about your situation. I can help you.”
This time there was no hesitation. “I can’t let the ship go.”
“You can.” Leia made herself sound calm rather than urgent. She shifted to put her
back to Han, whose increasing agitation was interfering with her concentration. “You’re a free agent; you don’t have to do anything. Let the ship go and we can—”
“Come to us.”
“What?” Leia was taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“Get in an escape pod. We’ll guide you into the bay. We can talk on board.”
Han moved so he could glare at her. Leia set her mouth in a grim line. She didn’t need anyone to tell her what this sounded like. If the Aegis’s crew had so abandoned the principles of Alderaan as to steal and kill nearly helpless civilians, then it was all too possible that they wouldn’t shrink from kidnapping and ransoming an Alderaanian Princess. “I can’t do that. You know why.”
The comm went silent again. Leia waited a long moment, torn among disgust, despair, and a final stubborn thread of hope that Metara would change her mind. After one brief conversation with you? she asked herself. You’re good but not that good, Leia.
Then the deck jolted underfoot and she grabbed the back of Ilen’s seat to steady herself. “What—”
Han twisted back around to the pilot’s board and hit the controls for their remaining sublight engine. The Gamble shuddered, more of the readouts redlined, but there was no surge forward. “Darn it!”
“Did the engine go offline?” Leia demanded.
Confused, watching the sensors, Ilen said, “We’re caught in a tractor beam!”
“Yeah, we are.” Han quickly adjusted the controls, then eased back on the overstressed engine. With an ironic grimace, he said, “Looks like they decided they really want to see you, Princess.”
“Alderaanian gunships don’t have tractor beams,” Leia said, baffled. But pirates do, she realized, and swore under her breath. She felt the sublight engine drop out as Han shut it down to keep the already damaged systems from overloading. “I saw that they’d had the ship altered. I’m sorry, I didn’t consider that they might have added a tractor beam.”