by Troy Denning
“Han, that’s the best way,” Luke said. He gave Han’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s the only way to make sure Caedus doesn’t see her coming.”
Han sighed, then glanced over at Jaina. “You really think you can get to him down there?”
Jaina nodded. “I inspected Nickel One’s defenses less than a week ago,” she said. “How many times are we going to be this lucky?”
Han closed his eyes for a moment, then finally nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”
“Good.” Luke looked over his shoulder, out into space, and a glint of comprehension came to his face, as though he finally understood something that had been puzzling him for some time. He remained silent for a moment, then activated his comlink. “Master Horn, please have the Owools stand down.”
“The Owools?” came Corran’s confused reply. “Just the Owools?”
“That’s correct,” Luke replied. “All other elements of the mission will launch as planned.”
There was a long, doubtful pause, and even Jaina found herself wondering if her uncle knew what he was doing. Space raids looked simple at first glance—pop out of hyperspace, blow something up, then escape back into hyperspace. But the truth was that they were one of the trickiest missions a small force could undertake. They relied on several different kinds of combat craft working together in a carefully choreographed dance of dazzle and destruction, and no one element could be removed without placing the others at terrible risk.
Finally, Corran said, “I don’t understand, Master Skywalker. What are the blastboats going to do about a fighter escort?”
Luke turned back toward the mouth of the hangar, once more focusing his attention on the black depths of space.
“That won’t be a problem, Master Horn,” he said. “Our escorts will be waiting for us at Nickel One.”
Do you know why the bantha crossed the
Dune Sea? To get to the other side!
—Jacen Solo, age 14
A wall of turbolaser strikes erupted ahead, Momentarily concealing the gray nugget of Nickel One behind a curtain of boiling color. Jaina’s heart raced, as it always did when she was forced to sit idle during the opening stages of a battle, but she calmed herself by remembering that her uncle’s attack plan was as good as it was simple. The blastboats would strike at the Remnant Star Destroyer Harbinger. When the enemy sent its starfighters to engage them, the Jedi StealthXs would slip in and destroy the loading docks. During the confusion, Jaina would drop onto the asteroid, sneak inside, and hunt down her brother.
Simple. Uncomplicated. Straightforward.
Except for the fact that unescorted runs at Star Destroyers were suicide missions. And the blastboats certainly wouldn’t be receiving any help from Verpine Stingers. The Remnant’s aerosol weapon had wiped out the Verpine soldier caste across the entire asteroid belt. Jaina didn’t understand why her uncle had insisted on leaving the Owools behind—or why he had been so mysterious about his reasons. She felt sure it involved the strange duel of Force visions he was waging with her brother. Obviously, there were things he couldn’t reveal without messing up his plan, but it would have been nice if he’d just said that.
The blastboat began to shudder rhythmically as Jaina’s mother and Saba Sebatyne opened up with the laser cannons. Luke’s hands flew over the defense systems console, adjusting shields and deploying countermeasures. R2-D2 was plugged into the comm system behind him, monitoring squadron communications and coordinating with other astromechs to avoid duplicating attacks. C-3PO sat in the copilot’s seat, struggling to filter the blast static out of the sensors. Han Solo, of course, was in the pilot’s seat, doing what he did best: dodging Imperial turbolaser fire.
Only Jaina, kneeling on the deck at the back of the blastboat’s cramped passenger cabin, was not involved. Trapped in a bulky drop-suit that was as much a weapons system as it was protection against the cold vacuum of space, she could do nothing but wait … and remember the time she and Jacen had been tricked into fighting each other as young teenagers. Their captors at the Shadow Academy had cloaked them both in holographic images and pitted them against each other with live lightsabers, but they had both sensed a trap and held back just enough to avoid landing any dangerous blows.
Still, it was risky to recall such moments. As much as her brother might regret having to fight her now—might even wish there was a way to avoid it—he would not hold back this time. He would not even hesitate. He would simply try to kill her in the fastest, safest way possible, and if Jaina so much as thought twice before doing the same, that second thought would be the last one she ever had.
Tiny blue tongues of ion efflux began to pour out from the thin shell of Remnant capital ships surrounding the asteroid. Even with its fleets spread across the entire asteroid belt—and the GA’s Fourth Fleet escorting its munitions convoys—the Remnant was being careful to keep Nickel One well defended.
“Stay awake back there!” her father called. The blastboat jumped and shuddered even more as he began to dodge through the thickest part of the turbolaser barrage. “We’ve got Starhunters coming.”
A cluck of reptilian delight sounded through the floor grate covering the belly turret. The Remnant Starhunter was the modern version of the classic TIE interceptor, with shields and heavy armament that made it far more dangerous than its predecessor. To a Barabel, of course, that only meant it was more fun to kill.
C-3PO did not share Saba’s enthusiasm. “It’s hardly something to celebrate, Master Sebatyne,” the droid said. “Our escorts haven’t arrived yet. May I suggest we postpone our attack run?”
R2-D2 emitted a derogatory whistle.
“I will not be quiet,” C-3PO replied. “I’m the sensor officer. It’s my duty to report malfunctions in the plan.”
“Thank you, Threepio, but the plan hasn’t malfunctioned,” Luke said. “Our escorts are here. They’ve been waiting for quite some time.”
Jaina lifted her brow at this news, but did not dare expand her Force awareness to see if she was right. She was concentrating on keeping her presence hidden, and the technique—the same one Caedus had taught Ben, and which Ben had then taught to her and his father—was too new to her to risk splitting her concentration.
After turning knobs and adjusting glide switches for a moment, C-3PO announced, “I’m sorry, Master Skywalker, but you appear to be mistaken. The only starfighters our sensors show belong to the enemy.”
“Do the sensors show our StealthXs?” Luke asked.
“Of course not,” C-3PO replied. “But I hardly see how the StealthXs can be our escorts when we’re supposed to be their diversion.”
“As much as I hate to admit it,” Han said, “laserbrain’s got a point.”
Luke smiled and turned toward the cockpit, but before he could say the trust me that Jaina had sensed coming, R2-D2 tweedled for attention and flashed a message across the pilot’s display.
“Who?” Han exclaimed. He slammed the yoke hard to port, sending the blastboat into a barrel roll, and the hull rang as it was slammed by the shock wave of a nearby turbolaser strike. “Are you kidding?”
R2-D2 trilled an impatient reply.
“All right—just asking,” Han said defensively. “Put him on the speaker.”
A moment later, the familiar voice of Boba Fett filled the blastboat cabin. “Are you barvy? What happened to your escort?”
Han glanced at Luke in the canopy reflection and raised a questioning brow. When he received nothing but a blank expression in return, he scowled and said to Fett, “We, uh, thought you guys might want to volunteer, I guess.”
Now it was Fett’s turn to be surprised. “Solo? Last I heard, you were on Coruscant with—”
“You hear a lot of things you shouldn’t, Fett,” Luke interrupted. “Very soon, I’m going to be interested in learning how that happens.”
“I could say the same,” Fett replied. “But I already found those bugs Jaina left at Beviin’s farm.”
“If you
found them, they weren’t Jaina’s,” Luke replied smoothly. “In the meantime, we’re kind of busy here, and I’d rather you didn’t get in the way.”
Jaina was surprised that the conversation was still being held over a hailing channel, which meant that Remnant eavesdroppers would be listening to every word—and matching voiceprints to records in their intelligence files.
After a moment of silence, Fett said, “So that’s the way it is. Either we cover your run, or we watch those Starhunters blast your Skippers apart before they even get close to the target.”
The smirk that crept across Luke’s mouth was more sad than satisfied. “There are no free rides, Mand’alor. You know that.”
Luke paused there, leaving unspoken a threat that only he and Fett seemed to comprehend, and Jaina slowly began to realize why her uncle was holding this conversation on an unscrambled channel. He wanted her brother to know who was up here—to know that Luke Skywalker and Boba Fett were teaming up to come after him.
“We’re in,” Fett finally said. “Tell your gunners not to shoot anything dark, fast, and pretty.”
“What are you worried about?” Han asked. “The way I hear it, those new Bessies of yours fly through novas.”
“Han!” Leia had to shout to make herself heard above the chuffing of her laser cannons. “Be nice to the Mandalore. We need his toys.”
“Sorry,” Han said, apologizing more to Leia than Fett. “No worries, Fett. Our gunners don’t have any practice shooting down pretty fighters.”
“Funny,” Fett said. “I’ll laugh when I get a minute.”
A loud siss rose through the floor grate that covered the belly turret. “This one did not know Mandalorianz possessed humor,” Saba said. “This one is looking forward to hunting with them!”
“Don’t get used to it, Jedi,” Fett said. “It’s a onetime deal.”
R2-D2 opened an encrypted channel to Fett’s fighter and set up a tactical comm net that would allow the Mandalorians and blastboats to coordinate with each other. Dozens of charcoal-gray wedges began to slide into position around the squadron, tipping the odds a bit back toward the raiders. Within a few moments, they were all dodging through the barrage together, not quite flying like a well-trained squadron but at least avoiding collisions and bouncing no more than the occasional cannon bolt off one another’s shields.
Once their own blastboat had settled into a comfortable rhythm with its Bes’uliik escorts, Jaina said, “You guys aren’t doing this.”
No one was rude enough to pretend they didn’t know what she was talking about. Her father simply glanced at her reflection in the canopy and said, “Kind of late to change your mind, sweetie.”
“I’m not changing my mind.” Jaina pulled at the front collar of her dropsuit, holding it away from her neck in the hope of getting a little extra ventilation. “I just didn’t sign on to make a decoy of my whole family.”
“So what did you think Luke meant by hold Caedus’s attention?” Her mother paused to fire another burst. “Beam down the latest episode of BattleSun Odyssey?”
“I didn’t think he meant paint a target on your blastboat.” Jaina directed the rest of her objection directly to Luke. “You know Caedus is waiting for you.”
“Better us than you,” her father said, giving Luke no chance to answer. “What’s wrong, kid? You think we’re too old for this?”
The blastboat dropped into a long wild spiral, and suddenly the forward canopy was streaked with cannon bolts and missile trails, all fanning outward from the tiny white wedge of the Imperial II Star Destroyer Harbinger.
“Now you have dragged us all into the dungpit!” Saba yelled up. “Never call your father old.”
“I didn’t,” Jaina protested. Behind the Harbinger, she began to make out the lumpy black shadow of Nickel One’s dark side. “And you don’t have to be old to be crazy.”
“What’s wrong with crazy?” her father protested. “Crazy has gotten me out of—”
“Jaina, you’re not the only one who’s afraid for her family,” Luke said, using the Force to speak over her father. “But you are the only one who’s allowing her attachments to interfere with her judgment.”
The lights flickered as Starhunter cannon bolts began to test the blastboat’s shields. Leia cursed and Saba sissed, then both turrets began to whine and chuff as the pair returned fire. Jaina was left feeling a little foolish and a little self-centered. Until that moment, she had been thinking only of her fear for her parents and uncle. It had not even occurred to her to think of how terrifying this must be for everyone else—or of how hard it must be for Luke to be here, while Ben was being held in a GAG prison, how hard it must be for her parents to be ferrying her to an all-too-likely death.
The blastboat lurched as a concussion missile detonated nearby. C-3PO began to quote their odds of survival, then Han cursed and threatened to flip the droid’s circuit breaker, and Jaina realized that things were going pretty much as usual.
“Sorry, everyone.” Realizing it wouldn’t be long before they reached the drop zone, Jaina picked up her helmet—a full-view bubble model—and thumbed open the locking tabs. “Just feeling guilty about taking the easy job, I guess.”
An amused siss sounded over the chuffing of Saba’s cannons, and her father glanced away from his flying long enough to catch her gaze in the canopy reflection.
“No problem, sweetheart,” he said. “And don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. Just—”
“Trust me,” Jaina said. “I know.”
Both of her parents laughed, though their voices were a bit sad and brittle.
“Don’t lose your focus down there,” her mother called from the upper turret. “You do what you have to, then come back to us safe.”
“I will, Mom,” Jaina said. “And you do the same.”
Her father rolled the blastboat up on its side to let a flurry of cannon bolts go flying past its belly; then the dark wedge of a Bes’uliik dropped in to cut off the attack. Jaina saw a flurry of cannon bolts bouncing off its beskar hull. The Mandalorian pilot returned fire an instant later, and his fighter was haloed by the orange glow of an exploding Starhunter.
Jaina lowered her helmet over her head, then Luke left his seat to come back and help her arm the dropsuit’s weapons array and check her suit seals.
As he worked, Luke put his head close to hers so his voice would be audible inside the helmet. “You told me you could do this.” His voice was muffled, but understandable. “That means more than just facing your brother. It means trusting us to do our jobs.”
“I know,” Jaina said, thinking of what Luke had put at risk to get her here. “I’m sorry you had to let Ben get captured. I don’t know what I was thinking—”
“It’s okay.” Luke raised a hand to silence her. “Ben is the one who made me promise to treat him like any other Jedi. I think he could sense how vulnerable I am to my attachments.”
Jaina thought she could see where this was going. “Master Sky-walker, I understand. I really do.”
Luke studied her for a moment, then said, “I hope so, because you can’t let your emotions control you. Down that path lies defeat, torture, death … maybe worse.”
“Worse?” It took Jaina a moment to understand what her uncle meant, for she had never considered the possibility that Jacen would attempt to corrupt her. “Don’t worry. The way things have gone between us, I’m pretty sure I’m the last person Caedus would want to turn.”
“Caedus won’t,” Luke warned her. “Be wary of yourself, of your own emotions.”
Jaina scowled inside her helmet. “Have you seen something I should know about?”
“You do know about it,” Luke replied evenly. “And if you react the way you did a minute ago, your emotions will betray you—love as much as hatred. Allow neither to control you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jaina said. “I promise.”
Luke studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Good. I’m counting on it.”
>
He activated the dropsuit’s life-support system, then disconnected her from the blastboat’s air circulators and opened the hatch at the rear of the passenger’s cabin. Jaina retrieved her sniper weapon—a QuietSnipe pellet accelerator with a telescoping barrel—then carefully backed into the little air lock.
Once she was inside, Luke asked, “Want to hear a joke?”
Jaina frowned. “A joke?”
“That’s right, Jaina—a joke,” Luke said. “Why is a droid mechanic never lonely?”
“Because he’s always making new friends,” Jaina answered, chuckling despite herself. The joke was terrible, but it had been one of Jacen’s favorites back on Yavin 4. “Don’t tell me those things keep popping into your head, too?”
An enigmatic smile crossed Luke’s lips. “It’s not wrong to mourn your brother’s loss, Jaina—just don’t forget who he is now.” He pressed his head to her helmet. “May the Force be with you.”
Before she could reply in kind, he stepped back and returned to his station. Jaina spent the next two minutes peering up the narrow aisle, watching the battle over her father’s shoulder. The Harbinger grew from the length of her hand to the length of her arm in the forward canopy, and its shields began to glow with golden circles of dispersal energy. Bes’uliike and Starhunters alike flashed past almost too quickly to identify, occasionally bursting into blue fireballs as they were caught by a line of cannon bolts.
Utterly isolated inside the dropsuit—her comm unit was deactivated and her Force awareness dampened to maintain her concealment—Jaina passed the time by meditating on the coming battle … and on the fears that still plagued her. Death was a big one, of course, and if it came, Caedus was unlikely to make it easy.
But even that fear paled compared with the concern Jaina felt for her parents, the knowledge of how crushed they would be if she were killed—and how sad it would be for them even if she killed Caedus and managed to survive herself. Where they were finding the strength to deliver her to this asteroid, she did not know. Then again, she had never understood where their strength came from, how anyone could endure so much trial and tragedy in one lifetime and always emerge stronger and more in love than before.