Darksaber

by Kevin J. Anderson

  He saw Red Team coming on in a straight line, a single gunship in front, then the huge Star Cruiser, followed by two more gunships.

  "He's aiming between the two frigates," Wedge said. "All right, everybody, red alert! Battle stations! All weapons, low power. Just enough for them to detect all the hits we score.”

  "All weapons low power, sir," the gunnery sergeant reported. "Hit counters are activated."

  Wedge's eyes twinkled as he watched the ships approach. He held up one hand. "Full power to lateral shields on both frigates," he said. "Drop all other shields. We know where they're going to shoot."

  The gunship came right on target, streaking between the Assault Frigate and the Yavaris, repeatedly firing simulated shots.

  "Shields holding," the defensive officer said.

  Then the Galactic Voyager came through, its low-power weapons blazing. Wedge chopped down with his hand. "Close the net," he said.

  The tactical officer shouted orders into the encrypted communication system, and the six Corellian Corvettes at the flanks-- supposedly out of firing range--suddenly looped up and around, encircling the two seemingly vulnerable frigates. The Corvettes scattered like static moths, flurrying into position and firing on the Mon Calamari Star Cruiser from top and bottom.

  The Yavaris and the Dodonna both fired upon the Galactic Voyager, catching it in the crossfire it had expected--but Ackbar had not anticipated the attack from above and below. Wedge ordered the Yavaris to strike Red Team's front gunship, crippling it. The simulation computer reduced the gunship's capabilities and told its captain they were dead in space.

  General Madine watched as the hit counters tallied the enormous number of strikes on Red Team's ships. Madine scratched his beard, turning to Ackbar. "He lured you, and you fell for the trap."

  "Shields failing, Admiral," the helmsman said in alarm.

  "Computer reports that both gunships to our rear have been removed from the game," the tactical officer said.

  Admiral Ackbar flushed a blotchy reddish color. "Increase speed," he said. "Let's get away from here so we don't suffer any more hits."

  "Too late, Admiral," the helmsman said. "Our shields have failed."

  Madine turned to watch the hit counter's numbers spiraling upward like a cascade reaction. " Hull plates have been breached. Admiral, I'm sorry to report that the Galactic Voyager has been destroyed."

  Ackbar's shoulders slumped. "A defeat."

  The tactical officer stood up to report. "We did finally disable their Assault Frigate and one of their attacking Corvettes, but the computer lists Red Team as "out of commission"-- the Galactic Voyager and two gunships down, our front gunship crippled."

  Ackbar sighed. "The price of overconfidence," he said. "I was not thinking. Open a channel to Blue Team." Madine watched as the Calamarian stood straight and spoke to Wedge Antilles. "This is the Red Team commander. Congratulations on your victory."

  "You were too predictable, Admiral,” Wedge said.

  Ackbar chuckled, but it was a forced laugh. "I will try to be more ... erratic with my future commands, General Antilles."

  He checked his sensors and saw that Leia's diplomatic ship had arrived from Coruscant, exactly on time. Ackbar, as commander of the New Republic fleet, opened a channel to all ships engaged in war-gaming exercises.

  "Chief of State Leia Organa Solo's ship has reached the system. Have the fleet form up and escort her to Nal Hutta," he said. "After that we will return for a rematch."

  Ackbar closed the channel. "On to business. General Madine, I believe you have work to do down on the surface?"

  Madine nodded and took the turbolift below decks, where he would prep his commando team for their covert mission to the Hutt planet.

  CHAPTER 23

  Chief of State Leia Organa Solo's diplomatic cruiser entered the Nal Hutta system, flanked by an imposing display of New Republic battleships innocently engaged in combat exercises.

  Leia sat in the hammerhead-shaped command compartment of her Corellian Corvette, a diplomatic ship much like the blockade runner in which Darth Vader had captured her while searching for the stolen Death Star plans near Tatooine.

  See-Threepio hovered beside her, newly polished so that he gleamed under the bridge lights.

  Han, though dressed in less diplomatic finery than he had worn during Durga's visit, fidgeted in his clean uniform.

  "They've spotted us," Han said as alarms began to go off.

  "They already knew we were coming," Leia said.

  "We sent the Hutts full notice at least ... half an hour ago." She chuckled.

  "Okay," she said more seriously to the crew, "time for our performance: I'm going to make a transmission." She stepped to the upper bridge, alone under the lights. She held the rail, primped herself for a moment, then composed a miffed expression on her face. "Please open a channel," she said.

  When the Hutts responded, Leia began her tirade. "Why is there no official escort fleet? I expected Lord Durga to have taken care of that personally. What have you been doing all this time?"

  The Hutt respondent was a lowly worm, thin and with a narrow head, obviously not a powerful crime lord like Jabba or Durga. His huge eyes flicked from side to side as he spoke in Basic. "Um, excuse me, Madam President, but Lord Durga is not here. We regret that we are unable to meet--”

  “ What do you mean, Durga isn't here?"

  Leia snapped. "He sent us an express invitation to visit him at our convenience. I trust you're not implying that he lied to the New Republic 's Chief of State--or do you mean to suggest that he is in fact retracting his offer to repay our hospitality? This is an outrage!

  How does he expect to form some sort of treaty with the New Republic ? I'd say the chances are becoming vanishingly small, in light of this snub." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the scrawny Hutt.

  "I'm sorry, Madam President, but Lord Durga is away ... on business." He waved his stubby hands, totally flustered. "If only you had given us some warning," the Hutt continued, "we would have prepared for your visit. But as it is, we have no facilities--” Leia glared at him coldly. "You don't actually expect us to turn around and meekly go home after the enormous expense and trouble we went to for this highly visible expedition, do you? I hardly think Lord Durga would want to risk such a galaxy-spanning diplomatic incident. Don't be absurd."

  The timid Hutt looked around, as if seeking someone else to consult, but found no one. "What do you expect me to do?" he wailed. "I don't have the authority to—“

  "Nonsense," Leia said, and raised her chin haughtily. "We are coming down at Durga's personal invitation--what further authority could you need? We expect to be well treated. See to it!" She signed off, then burst out laughing.

  Han came over and hugged her. "I think you enjoyed that," he accused, trying to restrain spasms of laughter. He stepped back and applauded her performance.

  Threepio meanwhile was totally baffled. "Oh dear! Perhaps we should have given the Hutts more time, Mistress Leia. At least they would have had the opportunity to prepare. I'm afraid they're so flustered now, this could put them completely off balance."

  "That's the point!" Han and Leia said, raising their voices in unison.

  Threepio staggered backward and shook his golden head. "Well, I'm sure this sort of approach wasn't covered in any of the protocol programming I received. Once again, I feel I'll never understand human behavior."

  Leia sat next to Han at one of the discussion tables in her ready-room, and she reached over to clasp his hands. "Thanks for coming with me, Han. I'm glad we're finally going somewhere together, instead of splitting up all the time."

  "Yeah, I like it too," he said with a lopsided grin. "It's a nice change."

  She sighed, then her lips tightened. "We can't cut them any slack. The Hutts are dangerous already, and they'll be unstoppable if they have their hands on a Death Star."

  Han nodded gravely, and Leia continued, as if giving an impassioned speech to the Senat
e. "The first Death Star was meant to be the ultimate doomsday weapon in the hands of the Empire. Now the Hutts will become galactic bullies with a big stick--and what's to stop them from selling those plans to any other small-time dictator who wants to get his own way? We cannot let the Death Star proliferate. The galaxy will be a shambles. If anyone with enough credits can buy the plans and go around blowing up planets, then no one will be safe. We must stop this at all costs."

  One of the New Republic guards came in.

  "Excuse me, Madam President," he said, "but your dropshuttle is ready. We can take you down to Nal Hutta at your convenience."

  "My convenience," Leia said ironically.

  "I'm so looking forward to this." She felt as if she were dropping into the open jaws of some slavering beast.

  Along with Threepio and their honor guard, Leia and Han went to the Corvette's drop ship bay and climbed aboard the small diplomatic shuttle. "You ready for this?" Han asked.

  Leia looked at him, pondering her answer.

  "No," she said honestly. "But we have to do it anyway. Let's go visit the Hutts."

  CHAPTER 24

  Nal Hutta was a bog, flat and sunken like a sewage-reclamation reservoir, with standing puddles and sickly-looking marsh grasses--a landscape the Hutts somehow found attractive.

  Leia realized she should have expected as much.

  A Hutt sailbarge coasted toward them as the diplomatic shuttle settled on a landing pad near Durga the Hutt's holdings. When she saw the sluggish luxury ship cruise along, its directional sails billowing in the foul-smelling breeze, Leia's skin crawled with the memory of her last fateful trip with Jabba out to the Great Pit of Carkoon.

  She, Han, and Threepio stepped away from the diplomatic ship, accompanied by their New Republic escort, and waited for the sailbarge to receive them. Above, the sky was draped with shadowy gray clouds. As Leia and Han stood in their formal attire, a greasy rain began pelting down, cold droplets clotted with residue from massive strip-mining operations in industrial sectors far from the showy palaces of the Hutt crime lords.

  "This certainly is a gloomy place, isn't it?" Threepio commented. "If we don't find shelter from this dreadful rain, I shouldn't be at all surprised if my new gold plating gets corroded." He turned his glowing yellow optical sensors toward the runnels of water trickling down his arms. "I do wish you had left me on Coruscant, Mistress Leia. I'm sure I would have done a much better job taking care of the children."

  "Didn't we tell you, Threepio?" Han said mischievously. "As a matter of state necessity, we're going to present you to Durga the Hutt. He'll be your new master."

  "What?" Threepio cried, raising his arms in sudden shock. "Oh, no! You must be joking. I'm doomed! Please, I urge you to reconsider this, Mistress Leia."

  Leia elbowed Han in the ribs. "That's mean, Han!"

  "Just kidding, Goldenrod," he said and slapped the protocol droid on one hard metal shoulder.

  "Kidding?" Threepio made a flustered sound. "Why, that wasn't at all funny!"

  Across from the Nal Hutta spaceport, Durga's palace rose tall. Despite the brown haze of pollution and atmospheric sludge, its walls gleamed white and clean.

  When Leia squinted her brown eyes, she could make out the tiny forms of slaves climbing up and down the sculptured facades in the slippery drizzle, scouring the gargoyles and crenelations.

  The sailbarge hovered over them. Guards stood on deck, scowling in all directions. A thin Hutt slithered along the top deck, moving under its own power rather than on a repulsorsled; Leia recognized the narrow, emaciated face of the creature she had argued with over the comm system. He was alarmingly different from any Hutt she had seen previously--scrawny as a ribbon of mottled green leather that hung on a flexible spinal column. He did not look well.

  "Greetings, Chief of State Leia Organa Solo. I welcome you in the name of His Great Obesity, the Lord Durga, who is unfortunately unable to be with us at the moment."

  Leia bowed slightly. "Thank you. But I want to meet with Lord Durga. He invited us here."

  "Ah, I have summoned him, Madam President. He is coming with all due haste."

  The scrawny Hutt envoy leaned over the barge railing.

  "Good," Han muttered. "I'm not exactly crazy about the idea of staying for very long."

  "I am Korrda, special envoy and slave to Lord Durga. I am not worthy, but it has fallen upon me to entertain you until he can be here in person."

  "Oh, that's very nicely said," Threepio said.

  Korrda seemed pleased. "I hope you find my Basic acceptable. Lord Durga insists that all his entourage learn the language so that we might better work with the New Republic . Might I offer you suitable hospitality in the meantime?"

  "We can't be sure quite what a Hutt means by hospitality," Han said quietly. "As I recall, I've experienced a little of it myself."

  Korrda made a hissing, sizzling sound that Leia identified as a strained laugh. "An yes, Han Solo--I am aware of your dealings with the defeated Jabba, may his name be spoken with scorn. He is a worthless worm. No Hutt respects the memory of one whose empire has fallen. You will be pleased to note that the Hutts have lifted the bounty on both of you as an initial overture of peace."

  "How very ... heartening," Leia said with an acid-sweet smile. "Now, should we climb aboard that sailbarge, or were you planning to keep us standing here, shouting at each other in the rain all day?"

  "An, certainly!" Korrda reared back, gesturing with his sinewy hands as a wide ramp extended to the ground.

  They climbed up the ramp onto the barge. Their stoic-looking New Republic escorts remained as stony-faced as the sailbarge guards. Korrda did his best to be obsequious, and simpered as the sailbarge raised itself up, drifting away from the spaceport and across the open spaces toward the palace.

  Spiders and gnats swarmed around the spiky grasses below. Roughly circular, shallow pools dotted the landscape, covered with a greenish scum. Overhead in the thin rain, flocks of large, clumsy birds squawked as they flew along, chased by rowdy henchmen on swoops who shot them with long-range blaster rifles.

  Smoking bird carcasses tumbled out of the sky and plopped into the bog.

  Durga's palace rose taller as they approached, a nightmare of towers and crenelations with large jawed gates--plus an underground network of dungeons so vast it had achieved galactic renown.

  "Ah, I don't know how long it will take for Durga to return," Korrda said as the sailbarge docked in the cavernous hangar bay, "but since I'm responsible for amusing you, would you like a tour of our dungeon levels? You'll find them most fascinating."

  "No dungeons," Leia said. "Thanks anyway."

  "Not interested," Han concurred. "We've seen enough dungeons to last us for the next century or so."

  "Oh," Korrda said, obviously disappointed and at a loss for what to do as a backup plan.

  Leia had been unable to sense anything from the opaque mind of Durga the Hutt. Korrda was much weaker, but all she could sense was flustered uncertainty and a nervous frustration, no deception. Korrda honestly didn't know what was going on, but he was afraid his neck was on the line.

  Leia's Jedi powers also brought her many bad impressions from the palace itself, lingering echoes of pain and imprisonment, thoughts of murder and betrayal that seemed to ooze from the stones. It overwhelmed her, and she quickly shut her senses down again.

  "Ah, perhaps we should dine instead," Korrda suggested. "We always have freshly slaughtered meats and succulent delicacies. There will be other members of Durga's family in attendance. It might be good to meet them."

  "That would be acceptable," Leia said, inclining her head in a regal nod.

  Han muttered, "I don't know ... having dinner with a bunch of Hutts doesn't sound much more pleasant than touring torture chambers."

  Inside the dining hall, carrion birds sat perched on stone lintels, glaring down to spot any morsel dropped to the flagstones, ready to swoop and capture any portion of the meal that attempted to esca
pe before it could be shoveled into a cavernous Hutt mouth.

  The other guests, Durga's adolescent cousins, were like wide-mouthed eels, lean and muscular, some already beginning to build up layers of flab in preparation for midlife obesity. Their thick lips contorted and their yellow eyes darted around--but these Hutts were obviously healthy, while Korrda was emaciated by some sort of sickness. The whiplike Huttlings were boisterous and insulting, barely able to speak a coherent sentence in Basic and uninterested in the work of Durga.

  Korrda played the servitor, bringing dishes of gelatinous food: stewed insects; parasites drizzled with warm honey; and roasted grain maggots, most of which lay in crispy husks on their plates, while others still squirmed about in a struggle to survive.

  Leia did her best to be appreciative, though neither she nor Han found they had much of an appetite. She pushed the food around on her dish, enduring the meal as best she could. Han did the same beside her, the cords in his neck tightening as he clenched his jaw. Only Threepio was not at a loss for words, attempting to decipher the origin of the meal's components.

  Korrda suffered more than Han and Leia, however. The larval Hutts proved excessively rude, slapping him whenever he came within reach. Korrda did not eat from a plate of his own, but scraped leftovers from discarded dishes into his mouth. He looked at Han and Leia with the utmost gratitude, perhaps believing they had not eaten their meals so that he could wolf down the untouched food.

  "Excuse me," Leia said in a low voice when Korrda came to gather their dishes, "why don't you sit and eat with us, since you are Durga's designated assistant?"

  "No, I am his lowliest servant,” Korrda said. "Look at me." He gestured to his ribbon-thin body and sickly skin. "I deserve only slop. I am despised because I have a rare wasting disease. As an underweight Hutt, I am the target of all scorn. How could anyone respect such a wasted and worthless worm as I?"

  "Why does Durga keep you around then?"

  Han asked. "You seem to be in an important position while he's gone."