by Troy Denning
Leia was about to end her meditation when it was ended for her by Corran Horn’s throaty voice.
“Where’s Master Skywalker?” Corran entered the small courtyard via a path leading from the academy administration building. He was dressed in breeches, tunic, and vest, all in various shades of brown. “The hangar chief said he didn’t disembark from the Falcon.”
“Neither did Han,” Leia said. Judging by the expression of shock that flashed across Corran’s face, she had not quite managed to conceal the irritation she felt at being tracked down even before her legs had grown accustomed to Ossan gravity again. “They stayed on Woteba to guarantee our good intentions.”
Corran lowered his thick brows. “Guarantee?”
“Woteba is having a Fizz problem.” Saba lifted the stasis jar toward Corran’s face.
He frowned at the silvery froth inside. “A Fizz problem?”
“It’s corrosive . . . very.” Leia told him what was happening to the Saras and their nest, then added, “The Colony believes the Jedi knew about the problem all along, before we convinced them to relocate their nests from Qoribu.”
Corran’s face fell, and alarm began to fill the Force around him. “So Master Skywalker stayed behind to convince them we hadn’t?”
“Not exactly.” Leia began to grow alarmed herself. “And Han stayed, too. What’s wrong?”
“More than I thought.” He took Leia’s elbow and tried to guide her toward a bench near the fountain. “Maybe I should go get Mara. She’ll need to hear this, too.”
Leia pulled free and stopped. “Blast it, Corran, just tell me what’s wrong!”
Saba rumbled low in her throat, a gentle reminder to follow the rules.
“Sorry.” Leia kept her eyes fixed on Corran. “Okay, Master Horn—tell me what the chubba is going on!”
Saba nodded approvingly, and Corran nodded cautiously.
“Very well. Chief Omas has been trying to get Master Skywalker on the HoloNet all morning. The Chiss are furious—transports are landing Killiks on planets all along their frontier.” Corran’s tone grew worried. “It’s beginning to look like the Killiks have this whole thing planned out.”
“Or the Dark Nest does.” Leia turned to Saba, then pointed at the froth inside the jar. “Can you think of a better way to destroy our relationship with the Colony?”
“Perhapz,” she said. “But the Fizz is working well enough. It has already turned Raynar and Unu against us.”
“And now the Colony has Han and Luke for hostages,” Corran said. Signaling them to follow, he turned toward the path that led toward academy administration. “Chief of State Omas needs to hear about this as soon as possible.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Leia started toward the opposite corner of the courtyard, toward the path that led to the academy science wing. “We should handle this ourselves.”
“I have no doubt we will,” Corran said, speaking to Leia across several meters of paving stone. “But our first duty is to report the situation to Chief Omas.”
“So the Galactic Alliance can start blustering and making threats?” Leia shook her head. “That will only polarize things. What we need to do is get this stuff to Cilghal so she can tell us how the Dark Nest is producing it—and give us enough proof to convince Raynar and Unu.”
Corran scowled, but reluctantly started toward Leia’s side of the courtyard.
“No,” Saba said. She placed a scaly hand on Leia’s shoulder and pushed her toward Corran. “This one will see to the froth. You may help Master Horn with his report.”
“Report?” Leia stopped and turned back toward the Barabel. “Did you hear what I just said?”
“Of course,” Saba said. “But you did not hear what this one said. It is not your place to question Master Horn’z decision.”
This shocked even Corran. “Uh, that’s all right, Master Sebatyne. Princess Leia is a special case—”
“Indeed. She knowz how to give orderz already.” Saba’s gaze shifted to Leia. “Now she must learn to take them. She will help you with your report, if you still think that is best.”
“I know how to take orders,” Leia fumed. “I was an officer in the Rebellion.”
“Good. Then this will not be a difficult lesson for you.”
Saba started down the path toward Cilghal’s lab, leaving Leia standing beside Corran with a stomach so knotted in anger, it felt like she had been punched. She knew what Saba was doing—teaching her how to fight from a position of weakness—but now was not the time for lessons. The lives of her husband and her brother would be placed at risk if she lost, and Corran Horn could teach even Barabels a thing or two about stubbornness.
Once Saba was beyond earshot, Corran leaned close to Leia. “Tough Master,” he observed in a quiet voice. “Did you really pick her yourself?”
“I did,” Leia admitted. “I wanted someone who would challenge me in new ways.”
“Hmm.” Corran considered the explanation a moment, then asked, “Well, is training with her what you expected?”
“More rules and less sparring.” Leia fell silent a moment, then grew serious. “Corran—Master Horn—you don’t actually intend to send that report to Chief Omas, do you?”
Corran studied her for a moment, then said, “I always did.” He started down the path toward academy administration. “Now that Saba’s pulled rank for me, I guess there’s no harm in admitting that I just didn’t see any point in arguing with you about it.”
Leia nodded. “Silence is not agreement.” Feeling a little foolish for forgetting one of the first lessons she had learned as a Chief of State, she started to follow. “But you know what will happen when Chief Omas hears that Luke has been taken hostage by Killiks.”
“He’ll demand that they release him.”
“And the Killiks will refuse. Then he’ll threaten them, and they’ll draw in on themselves, and we’ll have no chance at all of convincing the Colony to withdraw from the Chiss frontier peacefully.”
“If you were the Chief of State, you’d be free to handle it differently,” Corran said. “But you’re not. Cal Omas deserves to know what’s happening.”
“Even if it means sacrificing control of the Jedi order?”
Corran stopped. “What are you talking about?”
“I think you know,” Leia said. “The Chief of State has been frustrated with the Jedi since the Qoribu crisis. He thinks we’ve put the good of the Killiks above the good of the Alliance. With Luke out of contact, you don’t think Omas would jump at the chance to take control of the order and make sure our priorities are what he believes they should be?”
Corran frowned, but more in thought than alarm. “He could do that?”
“If the Jedi were divided, yes. I know how strongly you believe our mission is to serve the Alliance. But you do see how dangerous it would be for the order to fall under the Chief of State’s direct control?”
“Of course. The will of the government is not always the will of the Force.” Corran fell silent for a moment, then finally shook his head and started walking again. “You’re worrying about nothing, Princess. Omas will never take direct control of the Jedi order.”
Leia started after him. “You can’t know that.”
“I can,” Corran insisted. “The Masters may disagree on a lot, but never that. It could lead to the Jedi becoming a political tool.”
Leia followed him down a narrow promenade flanked by more cedrum trees, cursing Saba for insisting that they continue training even in the middle of a crisis. What did Saba expect her to do, hit Corran over the head with a rock? It would have been such a simple matter for the Barabel to pull rank on him instead of goading him into doing the same to her. After all, Corran was the newest Master, promoted on the basis of his actions during the war against the Yuuzhan Vong, the disruption of several pirate rings, and having trained an apprentice—a young Jedi named Raltharan whom Leia had never met. Saba, on the other hand, was a highly respected member of the Advisory Co
uncil who had produced more than a dozen highly skilled Jedi Knights before she had even seen Luke Skywalker.
The path descended to a shallow brook and continued across the water via a zigzag course of stepping-stones, but Leia stopped at the edge and simply stared at Corran’s back. In sparring practice, Saba was always rasping at her to stop making things hard on herself; to save her own strength by using the attacker’s against him.
Leia smiled, then called, “Master Horn?”
Corran stopped with his feet balanced precariously on two rocks. “There’s no sense discussing this any further,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “My mind is made up.”
“I know that.” Leia looked to her side, where a winding stone-chip walkway snaked along the edge of the brook toward the academy residences. “But before you make your report, shouldn’t you tell Mara? You owe that much to her, if you’re determined to place her husband’s life in danger.”
“Danger?” Corran’s face fell, his green eyes blazing with conflict as he realized that performing his duty to Chief Omas would mean betraying his personal loyalty to Luke. “Chief Omas wouldn’t push things that far.”
“I’m not the Master here,” Leia said, shrugging. “You’ll have to decide that for yourself.”
Corran did not even need time to think. His chin simply dropped, then he swung a leg around and started back across the stepping-stones.
“You win,” he said. “This isn’t something I should decide on my own.”
“Maybe not,” Leia allowed.
Corran stepped off the last stone and gave Leia an exaggerated frown.
“No gloating at Masters,” he said. “Hasn’t Saba taught you anything?”
SIX
The big hoversled emerged from behind a massive hamogoni trunk and skimmed across the forest floor, crashing through the underbrush and weaving around bustling crews of insect loggers. Han slipped the landspeeder he was piloting behind a different trunk, this one at least twenty meters across, then stopped and took a moment to gawk around the grove of giants. Many of the trees were larger than Balmorran skyscrapers, with knee-roots the size of dewbacks and boughs that hung out horizontally like enormous green balconies. Unfortunately, most of those balconies were shuddering beneath the droning saws of Saras lumberjacks, and a steady cascade of branch trimmings was raining down from above.
“Okay, Han,” Luke said. He was sitting in the passenger’s seat beside Han, using a comlink and datapad to follow the tracking beacon they had planted on their quarry back in Saras nest. “The signal’s getting scratchy.”
Han cautiously moved the landspeeder out of its hiding place, then, when they saw no visible sign of their quarry, hurried after the hoversled. In mountainous terrain like this, a scratchy signal could quickly turn into no signal at all, so they needed to close the distance fast. He dodged past a crew trimming the sprigs off a log as big around as a bantha, then decelerated hard as something big and bark-covered fell across their path. A tremendous boom shook the landspeeder, rocking it back on its rear floater pads, and the route ahead was suddenly blocked by a wall of hamogoni log twelve meters high.
Han sat there, waiting for his heart to stop hammering, until a shower of boughs and sticks, knocked loose by the falling tree, began to hit the ground around them.
“Perhaps Master Luke should drive,” C-3PO suggested from the backseat. “He has taken better care of himself over the years, and his reaction time is point-four-two second faster.”
“Oh, yeah? If we’d been point-four-two seconds farther ahead, you’d be a foil smear right now.” Han jammed the landspeeder into reverse and hit the power, then said to Luke, “Okay, I give up. How are these guys leading us to the Dark Nest?”
Luke shrugged. “I don’t know yet.” His eyes remained fixed on the datapad, as though he had not noticed how close they had just come to being crushed. “But the barrels they’re carrying are filled with reactor fuel and hyperdrive coolant. Do you see anything out here that needs so much power?”
“I haven’t seen anything on this whole planet that needs that much power.” Han started the landspeeder forward again and began a hundred-meter detour around the fallen tree. “That doesn’t mean our smugglers are headed for the Dark Nest.”
“It’s the best explanation I can think of,” Luke said.
“Yeah? What would the Dark Nest do with hyperdrive coolant? And that much reactor fuel?”
“I don’t know yet,” Luke repeated. “That’s what scares me.”
Han rounded the crown of the fallen tree, drawing a cacophony of alarmed drumming as he nearly ran into a line of Saras loggers scurrying toward the tree from the opposite side. A few of the insects carried modern laser cutters, but most were equipped with primitive chain saws—or even long, double-ended logging saws powered by hand. C-3PO thrummed a polite apology; then the Killiks opened a hole in their line, and Han took the landspeeder over to where the hoversled had disappeared.
“Blast!” Luke said, still staring at his datapad. “We lost the signal.”
“Don’t need it,” Han said. He swung the landspeeder onto a deep-cut track—it was not quite a road—that led in the same direction the smugglers had gone. “I’ll follow my nose.”
“Your nose?” Luke looked up, then said, “Oh.”
They followed the track over a knoll, then found themselves looking into a valley of mud and giant tree stumps. The smugglers, four Aqualish and a flat-faced Neimoidian, were about three hundred meters down the slope, parked outside the collapsed stone foundation of what had once been a very large building. The Aqualish had hoisted one of their fuel barrels onto a hamogoni stump that was two meters high and as big around as a Star Destroyer’s thrust nozzle. The Neimoidian—presumably the leader—was standing next to the barrel, talking to half a dozen Killiks. With bristly antennae, barbed, hugely curved mandibles, and dark blue chitin, they were clearly Gorog—the Dark Nest.
The Neimoidian held something up to the light, examining it between his thumb and forefinger, then nodded and slipped the object into a pouch hanging beneath his robes. The closest insect handed him something else, and he began to examine that.
Han ducked behind a giant stump and brought the landspeeder to a halt. “Sometimes I hate it when you’re right,” he said to Luke. “But I’m not crawling down any bug holes with you. I’m through with that.”
Luke grinned a little. “Sure you are.”
“I’m serious,” Han warned. “If you go there, you’re on your own.”
“Whatever you say, Han.”
Luke pulled a pair of electrobinoculars from the landspeeder console, then slipped out of the passenger’s seat and disappeared around the side of the tree stump. Han shut the vehicle down and told C-3PO to keep an eye on things, then joined Luke behind a lateral root so high that he had to stand on his toes to peer over the top.
“Interesting,” Luke said. He passed the electrobinoculars to Han. “Have a look.”
Han adjusted the lenses. The Neimoidian was examining a reddish brown mass about the size of a human thumb, shaped roughly like a tear and so transparent that Han could see a tiny silver light glimmering in its core. After studying the lump a moment, the Neimoidian placed it in his pouch and held out his hand. The closest Gorog placed in it another globule, this one so cloudy that the Neimoidian did not even bother raising it to his eye before he tossed it aside.
“Star amber?” Han asked, lowering the electrobinoculars.
Luke nodded. “At least now we know where it’s . . .” He spun toward their landspeeder, his hand dropping toward his lightsaber, then finished his sentence in a whisper. “. . . been coming from.”
“Why are you whispering?” Han whispered. He pulled his blaster from its holster. “I hate it when you whisper.”
Luke raised his finger to his lips, then slipped over the root they had been hiding behind and started around the stump, moving away from their landspeeder. Han followed, holding the electrobinoculars in one han
d and his blaster in the other. The route took them into full view of the smugglers and the insects down the slope. Luke flicked his fingers, and the entire group turned to look in the opposite direction. Han would have accused him of cheating, except that just then C-3PO’s voice came over their comlinks.
“Be careful, Master Luke! They’re trying to come—”
The warning ended in string of metallic thunks. A loud boom echoed across the valley, and black smoke billowed up behind the stump. Han scrambled over another lateral root and raced the rest of the way around the stump behind Luke.
They came up behind the fuming wreckage of their landspeeder, which sat on the ground surrounded by a pool of fuel and cooling fluid that had spread halfway up the tree stump. C-3PO was standing two meters in front of the vehicle, looking scorched and soot-covered and leaning forward at the waist to peer around the tree stump. R2-D2 had jetted himself onto the top of the stump and was wheeling along the edge, using his arm extension to hold out a mirror and spy on something moving along around the base.
Luke signaled Han to continue around the stump, then Force-jumped up with R2-D2. Han crept up behind C-3PO.
“Back here, Threepio,” he whispered. “What have we got—”
C-3PO straightened and turned to face him. “What a relief!” he exclaimed. “I was afraid they were going to come on you from behind.”
A familiar scurrying sound rose from down the slope, just out of sight around the stump, and Han suddenly felt sick to his stomach.
“Thanks for the warning,” Han growled. He thrust the electrobinoculars at C-3PO and raced for cover next to the stump. “Get back, now.”
Han barely managed to kneel partway inside a small hollow before six Gorog Killiks scuttled into view. It was about what he had been expecting, but being right only made him more queasy. He just couldn’t handle bugs, not since those crazy Kamarians had tracked him down on Regulgo . . . but he couldn’t think about that now, not if he wanted to keep control of himself.