Ambush at Corellia

by Roger MacBride Allen

  “But can’t you just kick the bad guys out?” Jacen asked.

  “No,” Leia said, “we can’t, because, even if we don’t like them, they followed the rules. The people elected them.”

  “So this Governor-General Micamberlecto is a good guy who has a lot of bad guys working for him, and he can’t do anything about it,” Jacen said.

  Leia smiled. “That’s about the size of it,” she said.

  “So how are you and Dad planning to fix it all?” Jaina asked.

  That question threw Leia for a loop. It would seem that her daughter simply assumed that Leia was in charge of stomping out all wrongdoing. “Nothing directly,” she said. “If we went in and threw out all the elected officials we didn’t like, we’d be just as bad as the Empire. Sometimes you just have to hold your nose and accept the situation. But part of the idea of the trade summit is to make things tough for the bad guys in the future. They’re the sort that do well when things are bad. They stir people up about their troubles. When things are going well, no one wants to elect that sort of rabble-rouser. We’re hoping that if we can get trade going again, people won’t have so many troubles for the wrong sort of candidate to exploit.”

  Jacen made a face and shrugged. “I guess I see,” he said. “But won’t the guys you want to throw out figure this stuff out, too, and try to stop you?”

  “They sure will,” Leia said. “So we’ll just have to know more than they do, and think faster than they do.”

  “Anyway, getting back to Corellia,” Han said, speaking just a little too loud so as to fill up the slightly awkward pause that had suddenly appeared in the conversation. “It’s a strange and wonderful place. Like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Nothing at all like Coruscant.”

  And then he proceeded to tell the children all about the worlds of Corellia. He told them about the glittering, wide-open city of Coronet, so unlike the oversized, overstuffed, covered-over city-planet of Coruscant. “On Coruscant, we’re indoors all the time, practically,” he said. “It’s the capital of the galaxy, but you could live your whole life there without ever going outside to see the sky! Now, Coronet is different. It’s lots of little buildings, with plenty of room in between. You can go outside all the time. The city is full of parks and plazas and palaces. And there’s Treasure Ship Row, with all the vendors selling good things to eat, and the shops full of things to buy from all over the galaxy—at least they used to be. Well, who knows, maybe they still are.…”

  Leia listened to Han, every bit as swept up by his words as the children. A city full of parkland and wide-open spaces sounded good to her. She had had enough of the troglodytic life of Coruscant for a while, whether or not the children had. And if Han didn’t say much about the casinos and saloons and nightclubs and less reputable establishments that clustered around Coronet’s spaceport, she knew they were there as well. Even if she would never go into them herself, they were part of the legend of the place, part of Corellia’s rough-and-tumble heritage of smugglers and pirates.

  There was a certain romance to such places. Maybe she would go into one or two of them, one night. She could get the children tucked into bed, get Chewie to watch them for the evening, dress in something the Chief of State would never wear, and then slip out with her husband, get him to show her some of the more grown-up playgrounds of Coronet. There could be no harm in taking in a show or two, or even trying her own hand at sabacc. But it seemed that Han had moved past Coronet while she was distracted, and was telling them about the other worlds.

  “Will we get to see Selonia and Drall?” Jacen was asking.

  “We sure will,” Han promised. “Selonia and Drall and the Double Worlds, Talus and Tralus—maybe we can even get a look at Centerpoint Station.”

  “What’s Centerpoint Station?” Jaina asked.

  “Well, Talus and Tralus are called the Double Worlds because they are just the same size as each other. They orbit around each other. Centerpoint Station is in the balance point, the barycenter, between Talus and Tralus. You get quite a view from there.”

  “I’ll bet,” Jacen said.

  “And then there’s the Boiling Sea and Drall, and the Cloudland Peaks on Selonia, and the Gold Beaches on Corellia. You kids have never been swimming in a real, honest ocean, have you? We can all go to the beach and build sand castles and go swimming in the great big ocean!”

  “What about sea monsters?” Anakin asked, clearly a bit dubious about the swimming part.

  “Well, that’s why we’ll go swimming on Corellia,” Han said. He gave Jaina a little push and she hopped off his lap. Han stood up, went over to Anakin, and scooped him up in his arms. “There aren’t any sea monsters there. They keep all of them on Selonia, because the oceans are much bigger there.”

  “Honest?” Anakin asked.

  “Honest,” Han said, quite solemn and sincere. “But I think it’s time for certain little land monsters to get ready for bed, don’t you?”

  That was enough to elicit a round of good-natured groans from the children, but for once, getting them ready for bed and down for the night was hardly a struggle at all. All three of them were suddenly yawning, struggling to keep awake long enough to get faces washed and teeth brushed, clothes off and pajamas on.

  All three of them climbed willingly into their bunks, and snuggled happily into their pillows. Jacen and Jaina were already fast asleep, their breathing low and regular, by the time Han knelt down by Anakin’s little bed, helped pull the cover up over him, and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

  But sleepy as he was, Anakin was not quite ready to sleep yet.

  “Daddy?” he asked.

  “Yes, Anakin? What is it?”

  “Daddy—when are we going to get there?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Courting Disaster

  Gone. There could be no further doubt. Luke Skywalker was gone. Pharnis Gleasry, agent of the Human League, could no longer deceive himself. The Jedi Master had not been home for at least a full day. A check of Calrissian’s not-all-that-well-hidden home in Dometown showed that it, too, was empty, and his ship, the Lady Luck, was no longer in its usual berth. Given that he had seen the two of them together the night before both had vanished from Coruscant, it seemed most likely that they had gone off together.

  Pharnis knew there was nothing for it but to follow the backup plan, as dicey as it might be. He would have to use the message probe and hope against hope the Jade’s Fire stayed to its shipping schedule. Otherwise—

  Otherwise, the Hidden Leader was not going to be pleased. And that was not a pleasant thought. In fact, it might be best to get the probe sent, and then follow Skywalker’s lead.

  Given the Hidden Leader’s temper, it might be wise to vanish.

  * * *

  “Did you have to bring them along?” Lando asked, not for the first time. The objects of his complaint, the droids R2-D2 and C-3PO, were on the opposite side of the Lady Luck’s wardroom, and neither of them seemed to be any happier to be with Lando than Lando was to be with them. Luke and Lando were sitting at the Lady Luck’s wardroom table, relaxing after their meal. At least they were supposed to be relaxing. Clearly the droids were getting on Lando’s nerves.

  Luke smiled to himself. There were other, legitimate reasons for bringing the droids along, but truth to tell, he had wanted them on this trip to twit Lando just a little, pay him back in the subtlest way possible for dragging him off on this lunatic scheme. He could never admit that to anyone but himself, of course, but still it was so.

  But Threepio answered before Luke even had a chance. “I assure you, Captain Calrissian, that my counterpart and I have demonstrated the highest degree of utility on any number of occasions. I might add that I in particular will doubtless be of the greatest possible use on a mission of romance. In addition to being familiar with over six million forms of communication, I have provided myself with additional programming. I have done extensive searches of data sources on Coruscant not generally available t
o the public. I am now well versed in the courtship rituals of two thousand and forty-seven human cultures, as well as five hundred and sixteen nonhuman cultures.”

  “Put a lid on it,” Lando said to the droid. “The day I ask your advice on how to treat a lady is the day I take a vow of chastity.”

  This remark not only clearly took Threepio aback, it also inspired a whole series of rather rude-sounding beeps and bloops from Artoo. “That’s scarcely accurate, Artoo, and I doubt it’s the sort of advice that Captain Calrissian had in mind in any event.”

  Artoo made an even ruder noise and backed away from Threepio just a bit as he swiveled his visual sensor toward Luke.

  “Take it easy, Artoo,” Luke said. “No need to be quite that insulting.”

  “Come on, Luke. Do we really have to put up with all this backchatter the whole trip? Can’t we shut them down, or ship them home from the first port, or something?”

  Luke smiled and shook his head no. “Every time I’ve brought the two of them along, I’ve been glad I did, Lando. Trust me, they’ll come in handy.”

  “Well, they’d better do it fast,” Lando growled. “Otherwise they’re going to keep an appointment with the spare-parts bin.”

  “Come on, take it easy. Besides, you’ve got another appointment to keep first,” Luke reminded him. “We should be breaking out of hyperspace into the Leria Kerlsii system any time now.”

  Lando glanced at the chronometer. “Another fifteen minutes or so,” he said as he stood up. “We ought to go forward to the cockpit.” Threepio took a step forward, as if to follow, but Lando held up his hand. “Hold it right there, golden boy,” he said. “You two stay safely locked up and out of the way here in the wardroom while we’re flying the ship and while we’re planetside. Is that clear?”

  “Perfectly, sir,” Threepio replied, “but might I suggest that—”

  “Good,” Lando said, cutting him off. He turned toward the hatch. “You ever been to Leria Kerlsii?” he asked.

  Luke shook his head as he got up to follow Lando. “No,” he said. “Not too much about it in the data banks I searched either.”

  “Well,” said Lando, “we’re about to find out more.”

  The hatch slid open and they headed for the cockpit.

  * * *

  Threepio watched as the hatch slid shut behind the two humans—and was astonished to hear the click of a bolt sliding to. Captain Calrissian had locked them in. “Well!” he said. “This is not at all the refined sort of treatment I expected from Captain Calrissian, considering the circumstances. Rough-and-ready manners might be all right at a mining colony, but they certainly aren’t the proper sort of thing for a gentleman searching for a wife. At least Master Luke was kind enough to come to our defense.”

  Artoo let out a long, questioning series of bloops.

  “What?” asked Threepio. “No, I didn’t catch the name of the place we’re going to. No one ever tells me anything.”

  Artoo let out a low moan and then repeated his query a bit more slowly, with an extra flourish on the end.

  “Well, if you noticed them saying we’re going to Leria Kerlsil, why did you bother asking me?”

  Artoo replied with a series of staccato bursts.

  “That is not true!” Threepio said. “I don’t just brag about what I know. I do indeed make use of it. What point in my searching out all those obscure mating rituals in out-of-the-way data sources if I didn’t even think to examine the information and see—”

  Artoo beeped and blooped vigorously, and rocked back and forth on his roller legs.

  “Oh! You mean I could look up what I have concerning Leria Kerlsil. Well, why didn’t you say so?” Threepio paused for a moment, and accessed his data memory. “Oh dear!” he said. “Oh my!” he said. “Artoo! Whatever are we going to do?”

  * * *

  Lando Calrissian was more than a little used to dealing with places he was not at all used to. He had long ago lost count of the planets on which he had done business of one sort or another. Now, as he set foot on Leria Kerlsil for the first time, he knew almost nothing about it—and yet he knew more about it than he knew about most worlds he had visited.

  He had learned long ago how to improvise, how to watch the local customs and ways of doing things, how to spot which were the trivial differences, and which differences were vital.

  But he had also learned about more than differences. He had learned how much all backwater worlds were the same. Or at least how much the same were all the backwater worlds a trader might be interested in.

  There had to be a spaceport, and that automatically meant all the things that went along with a spaceport. Lodgings for crewmen, almost always a bar or tavern of some sort, cargo facilities, someplace to change credits in and out of the local currency, and so on. In plain point of fact, Lando had seen little more than the spaceport on most of the planets he had visited.

  He would land, meet with the local reps for whatever he was buying or selling, keep an eye on the cargo going on and off his ship, make and receive whatever payments were required, get a bite to eat and something to drink in the bar, perhaps catch a night’s sleep in the hostelry if his bankroll was up to it and the beds looked comfortable enough, and then he’d be on his way in the morning. All the spaceport bars and cargo facilities and customs clerks seemed to blur together after a while. It didn’t help that so many of them looked alike. He had “been” to dozens of worlds wherein he had seen nothing of the local culture beyond the customs clerk.

  It wasn’t always that way, of course. There had been plenty of times when he had stepped outside that imaginary bubble around the spaceport into the real life and culture of the world. Lando was determined this would be one of those times he got out and saw the world he was on. After all, if things broke the right way, he was going to end up living on this planet—at least part of the time—for years to come. It would behoove him to get a look at as much of it as he could before he agreed to anything rash.

  At first glance, at least, it seemed like a rather pleasant place. The sky was a crystal blue, with fluffy white clouds scudding along, riding a freshening breeze. The air smelled pure and clean. The spaceport itself was small but well maintained, with every surface well polished and gleaming, all the staff cheerful and helpful.

  As on so many small worlds, the spaceport had been built far outside the city limits, and then the city had grown up around it. A five-minute ride in a hovercar brought them into the center of town, and a handsome-looking center of town it was. Waist-high trees with pale blue bark and small round purple leaves lined the neatly kept avenues. Wheeled vehicles moved quietly and sedately over the well-paved roads. The houses and shops were of modest size, but clearly it was a city of house-proud folk. Everything was tidy and clean, everything handsome and well made.

  “Not bad,” Lando said as the two of them walked along. “Not bad at all. I could see this as a very nice little base of operations.”

  Luke laughed. “You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be better to wait until you’ve met the lady in question?”

  “We will, we will,” Lando said. “The appointment’s not for another half an hour. I don’t want to get there too early and seem eager.”

  “What will you do if she seems eager?” Luke asked.

  Lando looked over at his friend and winked. “Then I’ll raise the ante, of course. That’s how the game is played.”

  At that, both of them laughed, and turned a corner to get a look at another street in the pleasant capital city of Leria Kerlsii.

  * * *

  “Hurry! Hurry! Burn it open if you have to, you miserable bucket of bolts,” Threepio shouted at Artoo. The little astromech unit was struggling to get the wardroom hatch open. His datalink probe was plugged into a wall socket, and he was trying to find a circuit link that would allow him to operate the lock from inside. “Captain Calrissian could be in great danger. Hurry! Don’t bother with all your fancy data s
licing! It’s not going to work.”

  Artoo replied with a testy-sounding series of buzzes and clicks—and then the door slid halfway open, just far enough for the two of them to get out of the wardroom. “Oh, good work, Artoo,” Threepio cried. “I knew that you could do it. Oh, why couldn’t Captain Calrissian or Master Luke be carrying a comlink so we could warn them. It could be too late already. We must get to a city dataport and find out if my information is correct. Hurry! Hurry!”

  * * *

  Luke Skywalker walked along beside his friend, enjoying the pleasant morning—but also starting to realize that something was not quite right. His Jedi senses were trying to tell him something, but he was not quite sure what.

  Luke glanced up and down the quiet street. There were fewer houses out this way, and they were larger and grander than the ones in the center of town. There were only a few passersby on the sidewalk, and they merely glanced over at the pair of strangers with the mildest of curiosity. No threat from that quarter, clearly enough.

  And yet there was something. Luke realized that his hand had drifted toward the handle of his lightsaber. He was more spooked than he realized. He glanced over at Lando, but it was obvious that his friend was quite unconcerned. Plainly there was nothing on his mind more stressful than his usual cheerfully larcenous schemes. So what was it? For a half a moment he considered the possibility of grabbing Lando by the arm and urging him to turn back. But no. Even a Jedi Master needed more than a vague notion of something not quite right.

  * * *

  The two droids finally found a public city dataport in an obscure corner of the main terminal building of the spaceport. “Plug in! Plug in!” Threepio cried, urging on Artoo. “Everything, everything you can find on Karia Ver Seryan. I only hope I’m wrong—”