staring at him on Cloud City just before Darth Vader had plunged him into
the
carbon-freeze chamber. Han had spent months locked in a frozen non-existence
with only her words "I love you" ringing in his mind.
He tried not to let his disappointment show. "So you're going off to the
planet Calamari?"
She nodded, but kept her face pressed against his chest. "I have to, Han.
We can't let Ackbar hide at a time like this. He can't keep blaming himself
for an accident. He's needed here."
Threepio interrupted them as he walked into the main room. "Oh," he said,
startled. "Greetings, Mistress Leia! Welcome home." Runnels of splashed
bathwater trickled down his shiny form and dripped onto the soft floor. He
held two fluffy white towels draped over his arms. In the back hall two
naked
children giggled and ran to their bedroom.
"The twins are ready for their evening tale," Threepio said. "Would you
like me to select one, sir?"
Han shook his head. "No, they always cry when you choose." He looked at
Leia. "Come on, you can listen too. I'll tell them a bedtime story."
With the twins snuggled in their pajamas under warm blankets, Han sat
between their small beds. Leia sat in another chair, looking longingly at
her
children.
"Which story do you want tonight, kids?" Han said. He held a story
platform in front of him that would display words and animated pictures.
"I get to pick," Jaina said.
"I want to pick," Jacen said.
"You picked last night, Jaina. It's your brother's turn."
"I want The Little Lost Bantha Cub," Jaina said.
"My pick!" Jacen insisted. "Little Lost Bantha Cub."
Han smiled. "Big surprise," he muttered. Leia saw that he had already
called up the story on the board before the twins made their decision.
He began to read. "After the sandstorm that drove him from home, the
little lost bantha cub wandered alone.
"So he walked, and he walked through the desert heat till noon, when he
found a Jawa sandcrawler upon a sandy dune.
""I am lost," said the bantha cub, "Please help me find my herd," but the
little Jawas shook their heads and gave their final word."
The twins leaned forward to watch the accompanying images activated by
Han's voice and the scrolling words. Though they had heard the story a dozen
times already, they still seemed disappointed when the Jawas refused to
help.
"So he walked, and he walked till he met a shiny droid. After walking by
himself so long, the cub was overjoyed.
""I am lost," said the bantha cub, "Please help me find my herd." "I am
not programmed to help you," said the droid, "Don't be absurd."
"The droid kept walking straight ahead, not looking left or right; the
bantha cub just watched until the droid was out of sight."
Leia listened as the little bantha cub's adventures continued in an
encounter with a moisture farmer, and finally a huge krayt dragon. The twins
sat wide-eyed with suspense.
""I will eat you," purred the dragon, then he lunged with snapping jaws!
So the bantha cub began to run without the slightest pause."
Jacen and Jaina were delighted when the bantha cub finally found a tribe
of Sand People, who reunited him with his parents and his herd. Leia shook
her
head, marveling at the fascination the children showed.
After Han finished telling the story and switched off the platter in his
hands, he and Leia each gave the twins a good-night kiss and tucked them in
before quietly walking out to the hall.
"I wish you would let me embellish your tale with sound effects,"
Threepio said, walking beside them. "It would be so much more realistic and
enjoyable for the children."
"No," Han said, "you'll give them nightmares."
"Indeed!" Threepio said in a huff, then moved to the kitchen area.
Leia smiled and held Han's arm, hugging him. She kissed him on the cheek.
"You're a good daddy, Han."
He blushed, but didn't disagree with her.
Small, but infinitely deadly, the Sun Crusher superweapon entered orbit
around the gas giant of Yavin, flying side by side with the armored New
Republic transport.
Sitting in the streamlined pilot's seat, young Kyp Durron felt the Sun
Crusher's advanced controls respond to his fingertips. He stared through the
segmented viewport at the eddying orange planet below, a waiting bottomless
pit where the Sun Crusher would be buried forever.
"Ready to send her down, Kyp?" the voice of Wedge Antilles crackled
across the comm unit. "Straight-line plunge."
Kyp fingered the controls, feeling a chill of reluctance. The Sun Crusher
was such a perfect weapon, well designed, able to withstand any onslaught.
Kyp
felt a strange attachment to the splinter-shaped craft that had brought him
and Han Solo to freedom. But he also knew that Qwi Xux was right in that the
temptation to use such power would eventually corrupt anyone. Qwi kept the
knowledge in her head, vowing to share it with no one. But the functional
superweapon itself had to be taken out of everyone's grasp.
He adjusted the sublight course vectors. "I'm setting the nav systems
now," he said. "Prepare to dock."
Kyp programmed a set of coordinates that would fire the Sun Crusher's
maneuvering jets and send the small ship down in a sharp ellipse to bury it
in
the turbulent clouds and the high-pressure core below.
"We're ready for transfer," Wedge said.
"Just a minute," Kyp answered. He locked down the controls and caressed
the deceptively simple panel one last time. The New Republic scientists and
engineers had not been able to understand the machinery inside. They had not
known how to deactivate the resonance torpedoes that would spark supernova
explosions. Qwi Xux had refused to help them... and now the Sun Crusher
would
be gone forever.
Qwi's birdlike voice interrupted his thoughts over the comm channel.
"Make certain all power systems are shut down," she said, "and seal the
containment field."
Kyp flicked a row of switches. "Already done." He heard the muffled thump
of hull against hull as Wedge brought the armored transport against the Sun
Crusher.
"Magnetic fields in place, Kyp," Wedge said. "Open the hatch and come on
over."
"Setting the timer," Kyp said. He activated the autopilot, dimmed the
lights in the cockpit, and clambered toward the small hatch. He opened it
and
met Wedge's waiting arms as the smiling dark-haired man helped Kyp into the
transport.
They sealed the Sun Crusher behind them, then disengaged the docking
connection. Wedge moved back to the pilot's seat of the armored transport
and
flopped into the cockpit chair beside the wispy-looking Qwi Xux.
Qwi sat strapped in with crash restraints. Her pale-blue skin looked
splotchy, and she was obviously filled with anxiety. Wedge nudged the
attitude-control thrusters and swung the armored transport around so they
could watch. The elongat
ed crystal shape of the Sun Crusher increased its
distance, drifting closer to the gravitational jaws of Yavin.
Kyp hunkered between Wedge and Qwi, watching through the viewport as the
Sun Crusher followed its preprogrammed course. Kyp could see the
torus-shaped
resonance-field generator at the bottom of the ship's long spike.
The Sun Crusher dwindled to a mere speck that approached the chaotic
storms of Yavin. He breathed a sigh of relief to know that this weapon would
never be used to destroy any star system.
Qwi sat thin-lipped, silent, intense. Wedge reached over to pat her arm,
and she jumped.
Kyp continued to concentrate on the Sun Crusher, watching the speck. He
was afraid to look away because he might lose the ship against the titanic
field of orange-colored clouds.
He saw the shape plunge into the upper atmosphere, plowing down on its
unalterable course toward the planetary core. He imagined the Sun Crusher
streaking deeper and deeper into the dense atmosphere. Scorching heat
generated by atmospheric friction would throw off ripples and sonic booms as
the Sun Crusher went down, down to the gas giant's diamond-thick core.
"Well," Wedge said, sounding cheerful, "we never have to worry about that
thing again."
Qwi's elfin face seemed to be a catalog of contradictory expressions. She
fluttered the lashes of her indigo eyes.
"It's for the best," Kyp agreed, mumbling his words.
Wedge ignited the thrusters of the armored transport and arced them away
from close orbit to the fringes of the system of moons. "Well, Qwi and I are
due to go inspect the reparation work on Vortex. Still want to go down to
the
jungle moon, Kyp?" Wedge said.
Kyp nodded, somewhat uneasy but eager to begin a new phase of his life.
"Yes," he answered quietly; then drawing a deep breath, he said, "Yes!" to
show his enthusiasm. "Master Skywalker is waiting for me."
Wedge turned back to the craft's controls, arrowing for the tiny emerald
circle that was the fourth moon of Yavin. He flashed a grin. "Well then,
Kyp,
may the Force be with you."
Followed by his group of students, Luke Skywalker emerged from the great
Massassi temple to watch the arrival of the transport and their new Jedi
student.
Luke had told them all of Kyp's coming. They had responded with measured
enthusiasm, glad to have another trainee among their number, yet tempered by
the clinging memory of Gantoris's dark and fiery death.
A rectangular ship emblazoned with the scooped blue sign of the New
Republic approached through the hazy skies. Its tracking lights flickered
on,
and broad landing struts extended.
Artoo trundled to the side of the landing grid in front of the Great
Temple. Luke approached where the ship was about to set down. Blasts of
repulsorlift jets fluttered his hood and ruffled his hair. Luke stared at
the
ship, blinking grit from his eyes until the transport came to rest.
The boarding ramp extended, and Wedge Antilles stepped out, reaching
behind him to help the bluish female scientist descend.
Luke raised his left hand in greeting and turned his attention to the
young man emerging from the craft. Kyp Durron was a wiry eighteen-year-old
full of energy and eagerness, toughened from years of labor in the spice
mines
of Kessel.
In the mines Kyp had received a small initiation into the Force through
another prisoner there, the fallen Jedi woman Vima-Da-Boda. Kyp had
instinctively used those skills to help Han and Chewbacca escape from Kessel
and from the Maw Installation. When Luke had tested the young man for Jedi
potential, the strength of Kyp's response had thrown Luke backward.
Luke had been waiting for a student like this to come to his academy.
Kyp stepped down the landing platform, averting his eyes at first; but
then he paused and looked up to stare into Luke's eyes. Luke saw an
intelligence, a quick wit, and a quick temper, survival instincts born from
years of struggle--but he also saw unshakable determination. That was the
most
important factor in a Jedi trainee.
"Welcome, Kyp Durron," Luke said.
"I'm ready, Master Skywalker," Kyp answered. "Teach me the Jedi ways."
Staring out the observation window of the orbiting station, Leia thought
the Calamarian shipyards looked even more impressive than their reputation
had
led her to expect.
The starship-construction facilities rode high above the mottled blue
planet. Supply platforms sprawled in three dimensions, dotted with winking
red, yellow, and green lights that indicated landing pads and docking bays.
Small girder impellers pushed huge mounds of plasteel extruded from
transorbital rubble shipments from the planet's single moon; the girders
would
be used in the frameworks of the famous Mon Calamari star cruisers. Crablike
constructor pods flitted in and around a tremendous spacedock hangar like
tiny
insects against the mammoth form of a half-built cruiser.
"Excuse me, Minister Organa Solo?"
Leia turned to see a small Calamarian female wearing pale-blue
ambassadorial robes. While the males had bulbous and lumpy heads, the
females
were more streamlined, with olive-colored mottling over the pale salmon of
their hides.
"I am Cilghal." When the Calamarian female raised both of her hands, Leia
noticed that the webbing between her spatulate fingers seemed more
translucent
than Ackbar's.
Leia raised her own hand in acknowledgment. "Thank you for meeting me,
Ambassador. I appreciate your help."
Cilghal's mottling darkened in a reaction that Leia recognized as humor
or amusement. "You humans have called the Mon Calamari the "soul of the
Rebellion." After such a compliment, how can we turn down any request for
help?"
The ambassador stepped forward to gesture out at the bustling spacedock
facility. "I see you have been observing our work on the Startide. It will
be
our first addition to the New Republic fleet in many months. We have been
devoting most of our resources to recovering from last year's attack by the
Emperor's World Devastators."
Leia nodded, looking again at the splotchy organic shape of the Mon
Calamari star cruiser, the New Republic's equivalent of the Imperial Star
Destroyer. The ovoid battleship had lumpy protrusions for gun emplacements,
field generators, viewports, and staterooms placed at seemingly random
intervals. Each star cruiser was unique, modeled after the same basic
design,
yet altered to meet individual criteria that Leia didn't quite understand.
"All the drive units are installed," Cilghal continued, "and the hull is
almost complete. We tested the sublight engines just yesterday, hauling the
whole spacedock facility once around the planet. It will take another two
months to complete the inner bulkheads, staterooms, and crew quarters."
Leia tore her gaze from the activity and nodded at t
he ambassador. "As
always, I'm astonished at the resourcefulness and dedication of the
Calamarians. You have given so much after your enslavement by the Empire,
after the attacks you've suffered. I feel reluctant to ask for further
help--
but I desper ately need to speak with Admiral Ackbar."
Cilghal straightened her sky-blue robes. "We have respected Ackbar's
request for privacy and his need for contemplation after the tragedy on
Vortex, but our people remain proud of him and support him entirely. If you
wish to bring further charges against--was
"No, no!" Leia said. "I'm one of his greatest supporters. But
circumstances have changed since he exiled himself here." Leia swallowed and
decided that she would get further if she trusted Cilghal. "I've come to beg
him to return."
Cilghal flushed with an olive tinge. She moved quickly, gliding across
the floor of the orbital station. "In that case, a shuttle is ready to take
you down."
Leia gripped the widely spaced arms of the passenger seat as Cilghal
maneuvered the egg-shaped shuttle through sleeting rain and knotted gray
storm
clouds.
Whitecaps stippled the dull surface of Calamari's deep oceans. Cilghal
swung the shuttle lower, seemingly unconcerned with the storm winds. She
held
her splayed hands over the controls and bent to the viewing panels. The
high-
resolution viewing instruments had been designed for wide-set Calamarian
eyes,
and the blunt controls were adapted for the digits of the aquatic people.
Cilghal maneuvered the shuttle like a streamlined fish through water. The
vessel curved away from small marshy islands--sparse dots of habitable land
where the amphibious Calamarians had first established their civilization.
Narrow rivulets of rainwater trickled down the passenger window as Cilghal
turned broadside to the wind.
The Calamarian ambassador nudged one of the bulbous control knobs and
spoke into an invisible voice pickup. "Foamwander City, this is shuttle
SQSTONE. Please provide a weather update and an approach vector." Cilghal's
voice sounded smooth and soft, as if she hadn't needed to shout in her
entire
life.
A guttural male voice came over the speaker. "Ambassador Cilghal, we are
transmitting your approach vector. We are currently experiencing rising
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