Star Wars: The Last Command

by Timothy Zahn

  “Maybe we can pull it off Nkllon entirely and take it to the outer system for repairs,” Bel Iblis suggested. “An Assault Frigate and a couple of heavy lifters should do the trick if we can get another shieldship flying.”

  “And can convince Admiral Ackbar to divert an Assault Frigate from the battle planes,” Lando reminded him.

  “Point,” Bel Iblis admitted. “I suppose I should hear the rest of the bad news. What all did the Empire get?”

  Lando sighed. “Everything,” he said. “All our stockpiles. Hfredium, kammris, dolovite—you name it. If we mined it, they got it.”

  “How much in all?”

  “About four months’ worth. A little over three million at current market prices.”

  For a moment Bel Iblis was silent. “I didn’t realize this place was that productive. Makes it all the more imperative that we persuade Coruscant to help get you up and running again. How many people do you have down there?”

  “Just under five thousand,” Lando told him. “Some of them are in pretty bad shape, though.”

  “I’ve had plenty of experience moving injured people,” Bel Iblis said grimly. “Don’t worry, we’ll get them aboard. I’d like you to detail a group to stay behind and get the shieldships operational. We’ll transport everyone else to Qat Chrystac. Be as good a place as any for you to transmit a formal request for assistance to Coruscant.”

  “I didn’t think there were any good places to transmit requests from,” Lando growled.

  “They’ve got a lot on their minds back there,” Bel Iblis agreed. “For what it’s worth, I’d say you’ve got a better-than-average chance that yours won’t get lost in the shuffle.”

  Lando chewed at his lip. “So let’s skip the shuffle entirely. Take me to Coruscant and let me talk to them in person.”

  “That’ll cost you an extra five days in travel time,” Bel Iblis pointed out. “Can you afford it?”

  “Better five days spent that way than sitting around Qat Chrystac wondering if my transmission has even gotten out of the communications center yet,” Lando countered. “Figure five days to Coruscant, another day or two to talk Leia into reassigning a ship and lifters, and then ten more to get them here and finish the job.”

  “Seventeen days. Cuts it pretty close.”

  “I don’t have any better ideas. What do you say?”

  Bel Iblis snorted gently. “Well, I’d been planning to head over to Coruscant soon anyway. Might as well be now.”

  “Thank you, General,” Lando said.

  “No problem. Better start getting your people ready—we’ll be launching our shuttles as soon as we’re in the planetary umbra.”

  “Right. See you soon.”

  Lando switched off the comm. It was a long shot, all right—he knew that much going in. But realistically, it was the only shot he had. And besides, even if they turned him down flat, a trip to Coruscant right now wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He’d get to see Leia and Han and the brand-new twins, maybe even run into Luke or Wedge.

  He glanced out the viewport, his lip twisting. And on Coruscant, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about Imperial attacks.

  Keying the intercom, he began issuing the evacuation orders.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Jacen had fallen asleep midway through his dinner, but Jaina was still going at it. Lying on her side, Leia shifted position as much as she could on the bed without pulling out of her daughter’s reach and picked up her data pad again. By her own slightly fuzzy count, she’d tried at least four times to get through this page. “Fifth time’s the charm,” she commented wryly to Jaina, stroking her daughter’s head with her free hand.

  Jaina, with more immediate things on her mind, didn’t respond. For a moment Leia gazed down at her daughter, a fresh surge of wonder rippling upward through her weariness. Those tiny hands that flailed gently and randomly against her body; the skullcap of short black hairs covering her head; that small face with its wonderfully earnest expression of infant concentration as she worked at eating. A brand-new life, so fragile and yet so remarkably resilient.

  And she and Han had created it. Had created both of them.

  Across the room, the door from the living areas of their suite opened. “Hi, sweetheart,” Han called quietly. “Everything all right?”

  “Fine,” she murmured back. “We’re just having another dinner.”

  “They eat like starving Wookiees,” Han said, crossing to the bed and giving the situation a quick scan. “Jacen done already?”

  “Just wanted a snack, I guess,” Leia said, craning her neck to look at the sleeping baby lying on the bed behind her. “He’ll probably want the second course in an hour or so.”

  “I wish they’d get together on scheduling,” Han said, sitting carefully down on the side of the bed and easing the tip of his forefinger into Jacen’s palm. The tiny hand curled reflexively around his finger, and Leia looked up at her husband in time to see his familiar lopsided grin. “He’s going to be a strong one.”

  “You should feel the grip at this end,” Leia told him, looking back at Jaina. “Is Lando still downstairs?”

  “Yeah, he and Bel Iblis are still talking to Admiral Drayson,” Han said, reaching over to rest his free hand on Leia’s shoulder. The warmth felt good through her thin dressing gown. Almost as good as the warmth of his thoughts against her mind. “Still trying to convince him to divert a couple of ships to Nkllon.”

  “How does it look?”

  Han wiggled his finger gently in Jacen’s grip, clucking softly at his sleeping son. “Not too good,” he admitted. “We’re not going to get Nomad City off the ground without something the size of an Assault Frigate. Drayson isn’t exactly eager to pull anything that big off the line.”

  “Did you point out how much we need the metals Lando’s been mining there?”

  “I mentioned it. He wasn’t impressed.”

  “You have to know how to talk to Drayson.” Leia looked down at Jaina. She was still going at it, but her eyes were beginning to drift closed. “Maybe when Jaina’s asleep I can go downstairs and give Lando a hand.”

  “Right,” Han said dryly. “No offense, sweetheart, but falling asleep on the table’s not going to impress anyone.”

  Leia made a face at him. “I’m not that tired, thank you. And I’m certainly getting as much sleep as you are.”

  “Not even close,” Han said, shifting his hand from Leia’s shoulder to stroke Jaina’s cheek. “I get to doze in the middle of those late-night feedings.”

  “You shouldn’t be waking up for them at all,” Leia said. “Winter or I could get the babies out of their crib just as well as you can.”

  “Nice,” Han said in mock indignation. “You know, you thought I was pretty handy to have around before the kids showed up. Now you don’t need me anymore, huh? Just go ahead and toss me aside.”

  “Of course I need you,” Leia soothed him. “As long as most of the droids are out on defense duty and there are two babies who have to be changed, you’ll always have a place here.”

  “Oh, great,” Han growled. “I think I’d rather get tossed aside.”

  “It’s way too late for that,” Leia assured him, stroking his hand and turning serious again. “I know you want to help, Han, and I really do appreciate it. I just feel guilty.”

  “Well, don’t,” Han told her, taking her hand and squeezing it. “We old-time smugglers are used to strange hours, remember.” He glanced over at the door to Winter’s room. “Winter gone to bed already?”

  “No, she hasn’t come back up yet,” Leia said, stretching her mind toward the room. As near as she could tell, it was indeed empty. “She’s got some project of her own going downstairs—I don’t know what.”

  “I do,” Han said, his sense turning thoughtful. “She’s been down in the library sifting through the old Alliance archives.”

  Leia craned her neck to study his face. “Trouble?”

  “I don’t know,” Han
said slowly. “Winter doesn’t talk much about what she’s thinking. Not to me, anyway. But she’s worried about something.”

  Beyond the door, Leia caught the flicker of another presence. “She’s back,” she told Han. “I’ll see if I can get her to tell me about it.”

  “Good luck,” Han grunted, giving Leia’s hand one last squeeze and standing up. “I guess I’ll go back downstairs. See if I can help Lando sweet-talk Drayson a little.”

  “The two of you ought to get him into a sabacc game,” Leia suggested. “Play for ships, like you and Lando did with the Falcon. Maybe you can win an Assault Frigate.”

  “What, playing against Drayson?” Han said with a snort. “Thanks, hon, but Lando and I wouldn’t know what to do with a fleet of our own. I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay. I love you, Han.”

  He gave her another lopsided smile. “I know,” he said, and left. With a sigh, Leia adjusted her shoulder against the pillow and half turned toward Winter’s room. “Winter?” she called softly.

  There was a short pause; then the door swung quietly open. “Yes, Your Highness?” Winter asked, stepping into the room.

  “I’d like to talk to you for a minute, if it’s convenient,” Leia said.

  “Of course,” Winter said, gliding forward in that wonderfully graceful way of hers that Leia had always envied. “I think Jacen’s asleep. Shall I put him in the crib?”

  “Please,” Leia nodded. “Han tells me you’ve been doing some research in the old Alliance archives.”

  Winter’s face didn’t change, but Leia could sense the subtle change in her sense and body language. “Yes.”

  “May I ask why?”

  Carefully, Winter lifted Jacen from the bed and carried him toward the crib. “I think I may have discovered an Imperial agent in the Palace,” she said. “I was trying to confirm that.”

  Leia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “Who is it?”

  “I’d really rather not make any accusations before I have more information,” Winter said. “I could easily be wrong.”

  “I appreciate your scruples,” Leia said. “But if you have an idea about this Delta Source information leak, we need to know about it right away.”

  “This isn’t connected with Delta Source,” Winter said, shaking her head. “At least, not directly. She hasn’t been here long enough for that.”

  Leia frowned at her, trying to read her sense. There was a great deal of worry there, running squarely into an equally strong desire not to throw around hasty allegations. “Is it Mara Jade?” she asked.

  Winter hesitated. “Yes. But again, I don’t have any proof.”

  “What do you have?”

  “Not very much,” Winter said, tucking the blanket carefully around Jacen. “Really only a short conversation with her when I was escorting her up from the medical section. She asked me what I did during the height of the Rebellion, and I told her about my job with Supply and Procurement. She then identified me as Targeter.”

  Leia thought back. Winter had had so many code names during that time. “Was that incorrect?”

  “No, I had that name for a short time,” Winter said. “Which is the point, really. I was only known as Targeter for a few weeks on Averam. Before Imperial Intelligence broke the cell there.”

  “I see,” Leia said slowly. “And Mara wasn’t with the Averists?”

  “I don’t know,” Winter said, shaking her head. “I never met more than a few of that group. That’s why I’ve been searching the records. I thought there might be a complete listing somewhere.”

  “I doubt it,” Leia said. “Local cells like that almost never kept personnel files. It would be a group death warrant if it fell into Imperial hands.”

  “I know.” Winter looked across the crib at her. “Which rather leaves us at an impasse.”

  “Perhaps,” Leia said, gazing past Winter and trying to pull together everything she knew about Mara. It wasn’t all that much. As far as she knew, Mara had never claimed any past Alliance affiliation, which would tend to support Winter’s suspicions. On the other hand, it had been less than two months since she’d enlisted Luke to help her free Karrde from a detention cell on Grand Admiral Thrawn’s own flagship. That didn’t make much sense if she was an Imperial agent herself. “I think,” she told Winter slowly, “that whatever side Mara was once on, she’s not there anymore. Any loyalty she has now is probably to Karrde and his people.”

  Winter smiled faintly. “Is that Jedi insight, Your Highness? Or just your trained diplomatic opinion?”

  “Some of each,” Leia said. “I don’t think we have anything to fear from her.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Winter gestured. “Shall I put Jaina to bed now?”

  Leia looked down. Jaina’s eyes were closed tightly, her tiny mouth making soft sucking motions at the empty air. “Yes, thank you,” she said, giving her daughter’s cheek one final caress. “Is that reception for the Sarkan delegation still going on downstairs?” she asked as she rolled away from Jaina and stretched cramped muscles.

  “It was when I passed by,” Winter said, picking Jaina up and setting her in the crib next to Jacen. “Mon Mothma asked me to suggest you drop in for a few minutes if you had the chance.”

  “Yes, I’ll bet she did,” Leia said, getting off the bed and crossing to the wardrobe. One of the little side benefits of having twin infants on her hands was that she finally had an armor-plated excuse for getting out of these superficial government functions that always seemed to take up more time than they were worth. Now here was Mon Mothma, trying to chicane her back into that whole crazy runaround again. “And I’m sorry to have to disappoint her,” she added. “But I’m afraid I have something more urgent to do right now. Will you watch the twins for me?”

  “Certainly,” Winter said. “May I ask where you’ll be?”

  From the wardrobe Leia selected something more suitable for public wear than her dressing gown and started to change. “I’m going to see what I can find out about Mara Jade’s past,” she said.

  She could sense Winter’s frown all the way across the room. “May I ask how?”

  Leia smiled tightly. “I’m going to ask her.”

  He stood before her, his face half hidden by the cowl of his robe, his yellow eyes piercingly bright as they gazed across the infinite distance between them. His lips moved, but his words were drowned out by the throaty hooting of alarms all around them, filling Mara with an urgency that was rapidly edging into panic. Between her and the Emperor two figures appeared: the dark, imposing image of Darth Vader, and the smaller black-clad figure of Luke Skywalker. They stood before the Emperor, facing each other, and ignited their lightsabers. The blades crossed, brilliant red-white against brilliant green-white, and they prepared for battle.

  And then, without warning, the blades disengaged … and with twin roars of hatred audible even over the alarms, both turned and strode toward the Emperor.

  Mara heard herself cry out as she struggled to rush to her master’s aid. But the distance was too great, her body too sluggish. She screamed a challenge, trying to at least distract them. But neither Vader nor Skywalker seemed to hear her. They moved outward to flank the Emperor … and as they lifted their lightsabers high, she saw that the Emperor was gazing at her.

  She looked back at him, wanting desperately to turn away from the coming disaster but unable to move. A thousand thoughts and emotions flooded in through that gaze, a glittering kaleidoscope of pain and fear and rage that spun far too fast for her to really absorb. The Emperor raised his hands, sending cascades of jagged blue-white lightning at his enemies. Both men staggered under the counterattack, and Mara watched with the sudden agonized hope that this time it might end differently. But no. Vader and Skywalker straightened, and with another roar of rage, they lifted their lightsabers high.

  And then, over the raised lightsabers came a roll of distant thunder—

  And with a jerk that nearly threw her out of
her chair Mara snapped out of the dream.

  She took a deep, shuddering breath against the flood of post-dream emotion; against the turmoil of pain, anger, and loneliness. But this time she wasn’t going to have the luxury of working her way through the tangle in solitude. From outside her room she could vaguely sense another presence; and even as she rolled out of the desk chair into a reflexive combat crouch, the roll of thunder from her dream—a quiet knock—was repeated.

  For a long moment she considered keeping quiet and seeing if whoever it was would decide the room was empty and go away. But the light from her room, she knew, would be visible beneath the old-style hinged door. And if the person out there was who she suspected, he wouldn’t be fooled by silence, anyway. “Come in,” she called.

  The door unlocked and swung open … but it wasn’t Luke Skywalker who stood there. “Hello, Mara,” Leia Organa Solo nodded to her. “Am I interrupting anything?”

  “Not at all,” Mara said politely, suppressing a grimace. The last thing she wanted right now was company, particularly company that was in any way associated with Skywalker. But as long as she and Ghent were still stuck here it wouldn’t be smart to deliberately alienate someone of Organa Solo’s influence. “I was just reading some of the news reports from the battle regions. Please come in.”

  “Thank you,” Organa Solo said, stepping past her into the suite. “I was looking over those same reports a little while ago. Grand Admiral Thrawn is certainly justifying the late Emperor’s confidence in his ability.”

  Mara threw her a sharp look, wondering what Skywalker had told her. But Organa Solo’s eyes were turned toward the window and the lights of the Imperial City below. And what little Mara could discern of the other woman’s sense didn’t seem to be taunting. “Yes, Thrawn was one of the best,” she said. “Brilliant and innovative, with an almost compulsive thirst for victory.”