by Alex Wheeler
"The Rebels have a tight security net around Skywalker," the man continued. "When he's on the ground, he's usually untouchable, which is why you're all here. Skywalker fancies himself a hotshot pilot. I'm wagering that at least one of you is better." He nodded at their datapads. "All the information you need is in there, including details of his upcoming mission and intercept coordinates. You'll operate as a team and split the money evenly. Payment only if and when Skywalker dies."
The Sorrusian threw his datapad to the ground. "Team? I work alone," he snarled. "I don't need anyone's help to take down a human. And I can prove it." He reached for his blaster—and dropped to the ground before his fingers could even graze the holster. A thin trail of smoke wafted up from the neat hole through his forehead.
Their employer held his blaster casually, almost carelessly, as if it were a toy. Div couldn't help being impressed. Speed, accuracy, and ruthless efficiency: It was a formidable combination.
"Anyone else have any concerns they'd like to raise?" the man asked.
The remaining pilots shook their heads, exchanging wary glances. Div spoke. "Say we work as a team. Who's in charge?"
Their employer glanced toward the rubble of the laser cannons. "You don't seem like the kind of man to avoid the obvious," he said, then turned back to the other pilots. "Grish B'reen," he said flatly, nodding as the Chistori straightened up. "Fallon Pollo," he said, and the grizzled man gave him a sarcastic salute. "Clea Sook." The woman met his gaze without flinching.
He clapped Div on the shoulder. "Pilots, meet Lune Divinian. Your new leader."
CHAPTER TWO
"Yavin 4 to Skywalker, Yavin 4 to Skywalker. Come in, Skywalker." There was a long silence. "Hello? Anyone home, kid?" Han Solo teased, rapping his knuckles gently against Luke's head.
Luke jumped, finally noticing Han's presence. He'd been sitting on the floor with his eyes closed for the past hour; he wondered how long Han had been watching.
Han grinned. "Taking your naps sitting up now?"
"Not exactly." Luke flushed. He'd been trying to meditate, to open himself up to the power of the Force. It was something he'd seen Obi-Wan Kenobi do. Inaction could sometimes be as powerful as action, old Ben had explained. Unfortunately, he'd never explained exactly what that meant. So Luke had sat down, closed his eyes, and waited for the Force to give him some answers. Where can I find X-7? Why is he trying to kill me? How could I have been so dumb as to believe he was my friend?
But the Force had been silent. He might as well have taken a nap.
"What is this, then?" Han asked. "More of your Jedi mumbo jumbo?"
"It's, not mumbo—oh, forget it." He wasn't embarrassed to be caught exploring his Jedi skills—even if it had turned out to be a total failure. But none of Luke's friends realized just how desperate he was to track down X-7, and he wanted to keep it that way. Everyone was eager to find the assassin, of course. As long as he was alive, Luke was in danger. But for Luke, it was more than that. He was angry. The man who'd called himself Tobin Elad, the man who'd revealed himself to be an Imperial assassin, had pretended to be a friend. He'd weaseled his way into Luke's life and trust, and Luke couldn't forget it.
Nor could he forgive.
But the trail had gone cold, and the Force was no help—which meant Luke had to wait for X-7 to come to him. Something told Luke it was bound to happen. Soon.
"Commander Narra wants us in Base One," Han said. "But if you want me to tell him you're too tired…"
"Let's go," Luke said, eager for the distraction.
When they arrived at the looming Great Temple that served as the Rebel base station, Wedge Antilles, Zev Senesca, and Chewbacca were already waiting in the briefing room. Commander Arhul Narra nodded as Luke and Han took their seats at the table. "Good, we can begin," he said brusquely. His protocol droid, K-3PO, activated an overhead screen. It lit with the image of a planet, inky storm clouds swirling in the planet's atmosphere.
"This is Kamino," Narra said as images of churning seas and weeping skies flickered across the screen. In the distance, Luke could make out shadowy stilt cities shrouded by fog. "It's on the edges of Wild Space, but unlike most of the planets out there, Kamino is valued by the Empire. Its scientists played a crucial role in the Emperor's rise to power."
"Sure, they made the clones," Zev said. "Why the history lesson, boss? Even the Empire finally figured out that natural borns make better fighters."
Narra looked out over the faces of the pilots, all too young to have served in the Clone Wars. "I fought side by side with those…things," he said, "before Palpatine turned them against the Republic. Those Kaminoan scientists created a living, breathing, deadly weapon that nearly destroyed us all. And now we have reports that they may have created another."
Jumbled fuzzy images of a laboratory appeared on the screen. "For several months, we've been aware of a secret Imperial research base on Kamino. The scientists were said to be developing some kind of superweapon. We've tried to infiltrate the lab, with no success. But one month ago, with no warning or explanation, the base was abandoned by the Empire." He gestured toward K-3PO, who deactivated the screen. "You'll access the base, gather any information you can about the weapons developed there—and, of course, scavenge any equipment or artillery that might be useful to the Rebellion. I've uploaded the mission details to your datapads. You leave tonight."
"Oh, do we?" Han said. "That's it? You're not even going to say please?"
"Han!" Luke chided him. Commander Narra was the leader of Red Squadron and Renegade Flight. Luke was no longer as intimidated by him as he used to be, but something about the man still commanded respect. He'd been a warrior for nearly his entire life and had single-handedly rebuilt Red Squadron after it had almost been demolished in the Battle of Yavin.
"It's all right," Narra said. "As I was about to say, we're down several members of the squadron at the moment. Captain Solo and Chewbacca, if you could contribute your services in their stead, the Rebel Alliance would be grateful."
"Well, the Millennium Falcon's got a busted acceleration compensator, so it's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon. And since you asked so nicely…" Han shot Luke a smug grin. Then he slapped his hands on the table and rose to his feet. "I'm all yours."
C-3PO tottered in nervous circles around his astromech counterpart, R2-D2, ensuring that everything was in working order. "You take care of Master Luke, now," he instructed the little droid sternly. "And don't do anything foolish." C-3PO would be traveling with Leia on a diplomatic mission to Mon Calamari while R2-D2 headed to Kamino with Luke.
R2-D2 beeped indignantly. He was doing a last-minute check of Luke's X-wing, tweaking the calibration on the flashback suppressor.
"Because I know you," C-3PO pointed out. "And you're always taking silly risks."
R2-D2 whirred and whistled.
"Me?" C-3PO slapped his bronzium hand to his chest. "Of course I'll be careful. I'm always careful."
"Come on, Artoo," Luke said, joining the droids. Han and Leia trailed him. "We should go."
"Master Luke, I don't like the sound of this mission," C-3PO informed him. "Surely the Empire had a good reason for abandoning that base."
"I'm sure they did, Threepio," Luke agreed. "And we're going to find out what it is."
R2-D2 beeped eagerly.
"See?" Luke said. "Artoo thinks the mission sounds like a great idea."
"Oh, of course he does," C-3PO said in disgust. He flicked a hand at R2-D2. "Go, then. Just make sure you come back in one piece."
Leia rested a comforting hand on C-3PO. "Artoo will be just fine," she assured him. "Don't worry."
"I would never do such a thing, Your Highness," C-3PO said. "I have absolute faith in Master Luke." But when Luke and R2-D2 turned to ready the X-wing, he followed them nervously, already jabbering more useless warnings and advice.
Han burst into laughter. "Crazy bucket of bolts."
"He's worried about his friend," Leia said, irritated. Han
could turn anything into a joke. "I think it's sweet."
"Oh yeah?" Han raised his eyebrows. "And how about you, Princess?"
"How about me what?" But she knew what.
"Pretty dangerous mission I'm heading out on," Han said. "You want to give me any last-minute warnings? Beg me to come back in one piece? Tell me not to go?"
"Dangerous?" Leia forced a laugh. It wasn't that she wished Luke and Han weren't going on the mission. The Rebellion needed them. She just wished she were going with them. Just in case. The meeting on Mon Calamari was crucial to maintaining the stability of the Alliance; she knew that. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she belonged on the other side of the galaxy, with Han and Luke. "The base has been abandoned. This mission's about as dangerous as a game of sabacc."
"Then lucky thing you're not going," Han shot back. At Leia's look of confusion, he explained himself. "Because you're terrible at bluffing, Highness."
She rolled her eyes, determined to admit nothing.
"No need to be embarrassed," he said. "It's only natural. You put a little space between you and something that matters to you, of course you're going to think about worst-case scenarios. In fact…" He shifted his gaze to the ground, as if afraid to meet her eyes. "You'll be gone all week on Mon Calamari, right?"
"That's the plan," Leia said, surprised. Was Han about to admit that he worried about her safety? She smiled. It was just like him, teasing her about her feelings when really he was just embarrassed about having any of his own. "Is something bothering you?"
He rubbed his temples, visibly agitated. "I just don't like it, that's all."
"Yes?" Leia prompted him, suppressing a smile. "Don't like what?"
"Leaving behind…my ship."
"Your ship?" Leia echoed, incredulous. "Your ship?"
"Sure. Chewie's coming with me, and you're not even going to be around to keep an eye on her, and it just doesn't feel right, leaving her behind all alone like this."
"Right," Leia said in a flat voice. "You'll worry about her while you're gone. Of course."
"What?" Han asked, finally picking up on her anger.
"Nothing," Leia said. "Absolutely nothing. Just…" She shook her head and waved an arm toward the Millennium Falcon. "Go," she told him. "I'm heading out soon. So why don't you go say good-bye to your precious ship."
He shrugged, then started to walk away. "Oh, and by the way, Your Worshipfulness…" He paused, his back still to Leia. "Try not to get yourself killed out there."
Leia sighed. "You, too, Han." But she said it too quietly for him to hear.
CHAPTER THREE
"Approaching Kamino orbit," Han said into the comm. "You copy, Luke—uh, I mean, Red Leader?"
"Copy that." Luke's response came in just as the other four X-wings winked out of hyperspace, back into normal space.
An enormous gray globe loomed before them, its atmosphere roiling with storm clouds. There were no Star Destroyers circling the planet, nothing at all to indicate an Imperial presence. But Han still felt something dark and dangerous emanating from the planet. Maybe it was the thought of all those Kamino assembly lines churning out stormtroopers like a nerf-sausage factory. Or maybe it was just the thought of all that rain. Han hated rain.
He rubbed his shoulder blades and did his best to straighten up in the cramped cockpit. These X-wings maneuvered well, no doubt about that. But they were no replacement for the Millennium Falcon. For one thing, what good was a ship without a decent-sized hold where you could enjoy a game of dejarik and a bottle of lum? Still, it could be worse, Han reminded himself. He could be a Wookiee.
"You still with us, pal?" he asked on a private comlink to Chewbacca. "Enjoying your luxury liner?"
The Wookiee growled angrily in return. Han laughed, remembering how ridiculous Chewie had looked hunched up in his X-wing, fur matted against the cockpit windows. X-wings, like most everything else built to human scale, just weren't made for Wookiees.
A light began flashing on the main screen of Han's X-wing. "Luke, my ship's picking up some strange gravitational readings," he reported.
"Copy that," Luke replied. "Wedge and Zev reported them, too."
"Probably just a natural fluctuation in the gravitational field," Han said. "I've seen this kind of thing before. Nothing to worry about."
Luke paused. "I don't know," he said. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Han rolled his eyes. Luke and his bad feelings…He knew that Luke thought it was the "Force" giving him some kind of warning. The kid refused to accept that everyone had feelings. Sometimes it was instinct; sometimes it was luck. Sometimes it was just a bad batch of won-won. Anything but a mystical, invisible galactic Force imparting wisdom from beyond.
"There's a clear path to the surface," Han said. "We go in now, we can be on the ground in—"
"Hold on," Luke said. "I want to investigate these gravitational readings. Something's not right."
Han shook his head. The kid was being overcautious. "It's not necessary, Luke. I told you—"
"Red Two, hold your course until further notice," Luke said, with special emphasis on the call sign. "Red Leader out."
"What was Narra thinking, putting Luke in control of this mission?" Han mumbled on his private line to Chewie. Not that Luke wasn't an amazing pilot; he'd proven that he was. But the kid was green.
Chewbacca shot back a short burst of barks and woofs.
"Fine, so I don't like taking orders from anyone," Han admitted. "The only person who can tell me what to do is—"
Chewbacca interrupted with an alarmed bark.
"The Empire?" Han repeated, incredulous. "Since when do I let the Empire tell me what to do?"
Chewbacca barked again, and then Han's radar screen lit up with lights.
"Incoming!" Wedge Antilles shouted through the comm unit.
"Who are these guys?" Zev asked as a motley collection of ships appeared before them. Han spotted a couple of freighters, a Preybird, and what looked like a Firespray. "They don't look Imperial."
A blast of laserfire shot from the cannons of the Firespray, straight for Luke's ship. He banked sharply to port just in time.
"They don't look friendly, whoever they are!" Han shouted, increasing power to his front deflectors and accelerating toward the nearest freighter. "I say we take them out…unless you have different orders, Red Leader?"
"Your orders are not to get toasted, Red Two," Luke said. "And that goes for all of you, Red Squadron. Let's show these guys they're making a big mistake!"
Han unfolded the wings of his ship and locked S-foils in attack position. The rest of the squadron did the same, gearing up for battle.
"Stay on my wing, Chewie," Han said into the comm, taking off after the nearest ship. He adjusted his targeting computer, waiting for the Preybird to edge into the center of the scope. Then he squeezed the trigger, launching a missile at the enemy ship. "Take that—whoa!"
The Preybird shot an antiballistic countermeasure from its tail launcher. It collided with the missile, unleashing an enormous explosion. Han pulled up hard, nearly sucked into the fireball. The nose of the X-wing glowed white with heat. And the Preybird was already looping around, closing in on Han for a kill shot.
Suddenly, a shower of laserfire raked across its hull. Han glanced up to see Chewbacca's X-wing streaking past. The Wookiee had bought him a few seconds, just enough time to shake the Preybird and regroup.
Five X-wings, four enemy ships: the math was simple—should have been simple. Just as the battle should have been over in minutes. But these guys were good. Almost too good.
Han half rolled the X-wing and spun it into a descending half loop, reversing direction and speeding after the two freighters on Luke's tail. Their flight paths crisscrossed back and forth, trapping Luke between them. Evading one put him in firing range of the other. They'd caught him in a web, and it was tightening around him.
Han dived into the center of the formation, hurtling toward one of the freighters.
It held to its flight path until the last moment and peeled away just before a collision—passing so close that Han caught a glimpse of the pilot's lizard-like snout.
"Thanks for the assist, Red Two," Luke said into the comm.
"Anytime," Han shot back. "Like…right about now!" He fired off two blasts at the Preybird, zooming in from four o'clock, laser cannons blazing.
Han couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right about this attack. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was off about the way these pilots were targeting them. If he could just take a moment to think…
"Red Two, bird on your tail, six o'clock!" Wedge shouted into the comm.
Han dropped altitude abruptly. Laser bolts screamed overhead. Fire strafed his wings. The Preybird was back. Han accelerated, forcing all power to his thrusters, then whipped the ship around and spiraled through a series of gut-churning turns. The Preybird clung to him every step of the way. A burst of fire streaked toward him. Han jerked the ship to the side, forgetting for one fatal moment that this wasn't the Falcon, with its temperamental thrusters. He overcompensated, shooting hard to starboard, directly into the firing path of the Firespray.
The laser bolt scored a direct hit on the aft engine. Flames sparked from Han's control panel, and smoke filled the cockpit.
The Firespray closed in for the kill.
Luke slammed the Firespray with a barrage of laserfire. The ship seemed, incredibly, to dance between the bolts, emerging unscathed. But at least it backed off of Han.
"Han, what's your status?'" Luke asked, watching anxiously as smoke poured from his friend's X-wing.
There was no answer.
"Han!" Luke shouted, beginning to panic. "Report!"
There was another long silence. Then: "Mild damage to aft engine, but it's under control. Thanks for the save, Red Leader."
Luke breathed a thin sigh of relief.
This wasn't working. The enemy might have been outnumbered, but it wasn't stopping them from putting up a fight. This mission was too important to abandon—but Luke refused to lose a member of his squad to this faceless enemy. They needed a new plan—quickly.