"No," Luke said, "I don't suppose I do know what that does to a man." He knew what it had done to him. It had forced him to grow up in a moment, forced him to fight the evil that had caused his family's deaths.
It had not turned him into a monster. He understood Dolph's pain, but not his reaction to it.
"When I came home," Dolph said as if Luke hadn't spoken, "I buried my family, and I vowed vengeance on the Je'har. Vengeance I took without your help. I am stronger now, Skywalker. I will be stronger than you."
"Is that important to you?" Luke asked. He was leaning harder on his cane than he needed to. He wanted Dolph to think he was weaker than he really was.
"Of course it is," Dolph said. "Your government condoned the actions of the Je'har. Your sister opened trade with them, and treated them as a reputable government instead of the terrorists they were. It took me, acting first alone, and then with my own people, before the Je'har were revealed for what they were."
"And what's that?" Luke asked.
"Monsters," Dolph whispered. "Monsters, Skywalker. But you wouldn't understand that."
"No," Luke said. "I don't." He walked a few steps closer to Dolph. Dolph's cape snapped in the breeze, revealing a lightsaber at his side. "Tell me, Dolph, what's the difference between the Je'har and you?"
The death mask's mouth thinned, making the skeletal face almost rigid. "Does speaking in riddles amuse you, Skywalker? Or do you do it to buy time?"
"I do it," Luke said, "because I am truly curious. You've destroyed every being on this planet. I suspect that in the time I was here, you destroyed another planet as well. The Je'har murdered people who didn't agree with its policies on Almania. Murder is murder, Dolph, at least to me. Is it to you?"
The death mask shivered, almost as if it were separating itself from the face. "My name is Kueller."
"Your name is Dolph," Luke said. "And I will only talk to Dolph. The Dolph I met was a gifted, loving boy who had a vast future before him. That's the person I want to talk to."
"That Dolph is dead," Dolph said. "The Je'har murdered him when they murdered his family."
"And left Kueller in his place?"
"Yes," Dolph whispered.
"But you don't need Kueller," Luke said. "Kueller helped you survive, but you don't need him anymore. You have me. Come with me, Dolph, back to Yavin 4. We can heal those wounds the Je'har put in your heart."
The death mask didn't move, although behind the mask, real eyes glinted. Luke could see their reflection but not their shape and color. Then the flash disappeared.
"You can heal the wounds?" The voice was full of sarcasm. The eyes were gone again, deep black pools in their place. "You can resurrect my family, Skywalker? I doubt that. Not even Jedi tricks can bring the dead back to the world of the living."
"We all experience deep pain," Luke said. "It's the price of surviving. How we handle that pain is what matters."
"I've handled it my own way," Dolph said. "I will continue to do so. I will make certain no one like the Je'har appear in the galaxy again."
"How do you plan on doing that?"
Dolph swept his gloved hand around. "The Je'hars of the universe shall disappear, along with those who serve them. Those like your sister and her government."
"Leia had nothing to do with your family's murder," Luke said.
"Precisely." Dolph's voice grew even lower. "And she was one of the few who could have prevented it."
The hatred had festered so deep in him that it fueled the dark side. No wonder he had grown so strong so quickly.
Luke stopped a few meters from Dolph. "Brakiss said you wanted me to come here."
Dolph nodded. He let his arm fall slowly. "I want to give you a choice, Master Skywalker. I need your strength. Join me, and rid this universe of the evils of beings like the Je'har. Together we can make this a better place."
"I will join you," Luke said, "if you renounce the dark side."
Dolph laughed. The sound was deep, echoey, and icy-cold. "You should have learned long ago, Skywalker. There is no dark side. The rules you placed on the Force were placed on you by a weak and frightened old man, placed so that you would never grow to your full potential. Join me, Skywalker, and you can become what you were meant to be—the strongest man in the galaxy. The Force will be with you. It will guide you. It will give you everything you want."
"It already has," Luke said.
"Has it?" Dolph's voice was soft. "Really, Master Skywalker? Your sister has three children and a husband who loves her. You embrace no one. You have companions, but no family. You teach tricks you learned long ago, and search the galaxy for challenges. You have no real home. Is that what you want, Skywalker?"
"Everyone's life can be made to sound bad, Dolph," Luke said. "I enjoy mine. I value it, and I wouldn't change it."
"Not even to make it better?"
"Not your way," Luke said.
"So be it, then." The mask hardened and became part of Dolph. Luke could see the physical transformation, and knew then that he was watching Kueller, the man Dolph had become. There would be no more reasoning with the boy Luke had known.
Slowly Kueller drew his lightsaber, the hiss filling the street. Its blade burned blue.
"I don't want to fight you, Dolph," Luke said.
"You won't be fighting Dolph," Kueller replied. He slashed at Luke. In one quick movement, Luke grabbed his lightsaber and blocked Kueller's swipe with his own blade. The electric clang of the sabers filled the air, sending sparks all around them. Each movement ripped at Luke's back, but he focused on the blade instead: parrying, defending, blocking, never really attacking. He would wait until Kueller was open before making his move.
Kueller hit at Luke's left, then his right, then his heart. But Luke kept blocking. Kueller pushed Luke backward, toward the house. Luke stumbled on his weak leg, and collapsed on the knee. A river of pain ran through his thigh. Kueller brought his lightsaber down onto Luke's shoulder, but Luke rolled away from it, his back burning as dirt from the road ground into his wounds.
He pushed himself up and swiped at Kueller, singeing his cape. The hum of lightsabers filled the air. Sweat ran down Luke's face. His strength was gone. He had gone through too much in the last few days. But he concentrated on Kueller's movements, lived for Kueller's movements, blocked them, anticipated them, and held his ground.
In a series of five rapid thrusts, Kueller moved Luke backward again. Luke parried, parried, parried, but couldn't keep his balance. His ankle was clearly broken and unable to support him. Kueller jabbed at Luke's left side. Luke swiveled to dodge, and Kueller jabbed again. Luke's ankle buckled, but he didn't fall. Kueller pushed closer, and knocked Luke's lightsaber from his hand.
Kueller held his blue blade beneath Luke's chin. Luke could feel its heat, smell its electric tang.
"I should kill you now," Kueller said.
Luke was breathing hard, but he felt no fear. He could call the lightsaber to him, and continue the battle, but somehow he knew that Kueller wasn't yet ready to kill him.
He met Kueller's dark, empty gaze. "Killing me will not strengthen you."
The mask smiled in a skeletal imitation of death. "Ah, but it will, Master Skywalker."
"No," Luke said. "A Jedi welcomes death. He does not fear it."
"Are you telling me that, Skywalker, or yourself?"
"You, Dolph."
"I am not Dolph!"
"As you wish," Luke said. He was standing on his broken bone. The entire leg had gone numb.
"I should kill you," Kueller said again, "but I need you to lure your sister here."
"You don't want to face two of us, Dolph."
Kueller snapped his fingers. Dozens of stormtroopers, their white uniforms gleaming in the sun, emerged from the surrounding buildings. "Take him to Almania."
"That's a lot of soldiers for one man," Luke said, with some amusement.
"I know who you are, Skywalker." Kueller kept the tip of the lightsaber near the tender
skin under Luke's chin. "I will never underestimate you."
The stormtroopers surrounded him. He braced himself, about to jump free, when something pricked the back of his neck. He brought up his hand, turned in surprise, and saw a stormtrooper behind him, holding a slight needle.
"Good night, Master Skywalker," Kueller said, as Luke collapsed onto the ground.
Leia was nearly finished outfitting Alderaan. The ship was designed especially for her, an escape vehicle when she needed it, an emergency vehicle when the times called for it, as they had when Hethrir had stolen her children. Alderaan had no markings on her outside, and her name was known only to a few. She was identified by her number, and her owner was listed as a woman named Lelila. Lelila was actually Leia's nickname from childhood, her second identity, one that had served her well in her search for her own children not so long ago.
It would serve her well now, in her search for her brother.
Luke? she sent again, but again, she received nothing in return.
Luke had appeared so badly injured in that holo. Perhaps he was dead. Perhaps he hadn't survived the explosion of his X-wing.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. She couldn't live with perhaps. Her brother had been given up for dead many times. She had learned to believe that he could survive the most impossible circumstances. She had learned that when she and Lando had found him hanging upside down from a weather vane below Cloud City.
She sent a final coded message along all computer channels, trying to find R2. He was probably still in repair. Those Kloperians had nearly destroyed him twice, and she had left an order—one of her last official acts—that the Kloperians who worked in the ship docks be relieved of their duties until she was certain that they were not guilty of any tampering. She suspected them because of their behavior toward her droids. If they had left the droids alone, she would have thought them innocent victims, like everyone else.
If R2 didn't arrive soon, she would go alone. Time was the most important factor here. If Luke was alive, but badly wounded, he might not be able to defend himself. Sometimes his powers seemed magical to those around him, but she knew beneath it all that Luke was as human as anyone else.
And as vulnerable.
Death took even the greatest Jedi Knights. She had watched Obi-Wan die, raising his lightsaber, and allowing Vader to slice him through.
That image had stayed with her all these years. For while Luke had come to see that moment as a sign of Ben's power, Leia had always seen it as an example of power's limitations.
She had never spoken to Obi-Wan Kenobi when he was alive. Only when he was a ghostly vision, like her real father and Yoda. Obi-Wan hadn't seemed strong then. A guide, a teacher, and little more.
A knock on the hatch made her whirl. No one knew she was here, except Mon Mothma, and she wouldn't come here. R2, if he had received Leia's message, wouldn't knock.
She tapped her exterior screen. Wedge stood there, wearing his general's uniform, his hair slicked back, his hat tucked under his arm. He looked very official.
Her mouth went dry. Silly to be afraid of a friend, but she was suddenly. She didn't want him to tell her to stay, and she didn't want him to notify anyone that she had left—at least not this early on.
Still, she couldn't deny him. She opened the hatch and waited for him in the cockpit.
He had to duck under the door as he stepped in. "Leia?" he said. "Mon Mothma sent me."
"I'm not staying, Wedge," she said. "No matter how much you argue. Luke is in trouble, I can't raise Han, and by the time the Senate votes to help, Luke will be dead."
Wedge put his hat on the copilot's chair. "I know, Leia. You don't have to justify your actions to me. Mon Mothma didn't send me here to prevent you from leaving. She sent me to accompany you."
Leia shook her head. "That won't be necessary, Wedge. It's better for me to go alone. But if you can find R2, I'd appreciate that."
"You don't understand," Wedge said. "Mon Mothma is sending me and a fleet with you."
Leia's legs felt suddenly weak. She leaned against the controls. "A fleet? She can't do that. It takes full approval of the Senate."
"Technically," Wedge said. "There are always ways around that, as you well know."
"But she doesn't dare. The Imperials in the Senate will crucify her."
"They won't know if we do it soon," Wedge said. "The fleet will be long gone by the time they object."
"And then they'll throw her out. Wedge, this is precisely the kind of thing I wanted to prevent when I asked her to take my place."
"Trust Mon Mothma, Leia. She managed to unify a diverse group of Rebels and make them into a real government. She has a devious side."
That caught Leia. She frowned. "What's her plan?"
"To let us go. The ships are already being prepared. She believes we need to get rid of this Kueller as quickly as we can. Under your leadership, we can do that, Leia."
"What's so devious about that?"
"If we win, you'll get the credit. It will stop the no-confidence vote when you return. It'll allow you to remain Chief of State."
"And if we lose?"
"She denounces us. We become rogues who went off on our own, trying to save the New Republic, and failing." Wedge leaned toward her, his expression sincere. "If we fail, Leia, our reputations won't matter."
"They will to my children," Leia said.
"Your children will be protected. Mon Mothma knows how precious they are. It's lucky that they're not on Coruscant for this. It means Mon Mothma can manipulate the information any way she wants."
"A fleet," Leia said, the plan slowly sinking in. With a fleet, she might actually have a chance. Kueller would expect her to give in, or to wait for his next message. If he knew her as well as he thought he did, he might even guess that she would try to rescue Luke. But he would never imagine a fleet. "What about the X-wings?"
"Most are unusable," Wedge said, "but we've rebuilt a few. Mostly the team will be relying on Headhunters, A-wings, B-wings, and Y-wings."
"This sounds like a large fleet," Leia said.
"Luke's important."
She smiled softly. "And Mon Mothma reviewed the holocord-ing, and believes that Kueller is a big threat. You forget how often I've fought at her side, Wedge. She has never believed in sitting still. She believes in fighting. She believes in having the advantage of surprise."
"Then we'd better get moving," Wedge said. "Do you want to fly in the flagship?"
Leia shook her head. "I've never been a military commander, Wedge. You have the charge of this mission. I'm taking Aldeman. Let me focus on Luke. You can remind Kueller that we took down the Empire. A small, petty demagogue on a faraway planet poses no threat to us at all."
"You don't believe he's that weak, do you?" Wedge asked.
"No." Leia smiled ruefully. "I think he's one of the worst threats we've ever faced."
THIRTY-THREE
The water churned with blaster fire. As Han dove under the water, Chewie grabbed Wynni's bow-caster. Han didn't see if Chewie was able to wrestle it from her. Instead, he swam deep, grabbed Zeen's legs, and tugged him under.
Zeen immediately kicked at him, but Han hung on. He pulled with all his strength, and got Zeen next to him. Zeen's blaster slowly sank beside them. Zeen flailed at Han with his arms. Han just clung. His lungs burned from the struggle, but Zeen's mouth was open. He wouldn't last as long as Han.
Zeen's fist connected with Han's chin, but the water softened the blow. Han put his hands on Zeen's shoulders and shoved him downward. Zeen grabbed for Han but missed. The momentum of the water, and the sinkhole, pulled Zeen deeper.
Han swam to the surface. Lando had Kid in an armlock, and they were struggling, both going under then coming up and spitting out water. Laser bolts were sizzling the water all around them. Chewbacca was firing Wynni's bowcaster at the Glottalphibs. One lay dead on the ledge, while another floated facedown on the pond, a black stain swelling around its body. The other Glottalphibs wer
e shooting fire at the water, boiling it. The heat was incredible. Han couldn't tell if his face was covered with pond water or sweat.
Nandreeson was firing at them with his blaster. Wynni was unconscious, but floating on her back in the scummy water, her snout safely in the air.
Han grabbed the blaster out of Kid's hands, punched him in the face, and pushed him under as he had Zeen. Then Han grabbed Lando and pulled him up.
"Breathe, buddy."
Lando was breathing, hard, but he nodded and swam free. Han handed him the blaster, and then grabbed his own blaster from its pouch around his waist. He was treading water and firing at the remaining Glottalphibs, aiming for the centers of the mouths.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lando float on his back, take aim, and blast the ceiling.
Han whirled, about to tell him not to waste his shots, when a million watumba bats swooped down. Chewbacca roared, and immediately covered his head with his paws. The bats dove at the water, into the smoke, and then followed the flames.
The Glottalphibs started honking in unison and slapping at the bats with their tiny arms. The fire stopped. Nandreeson slid under the water and Han started after him, when Lando grabbed his arm.
"Don't," Lando said. "He wants us under there so he can kill us better."
The bats were eating the fire as they made their way toward the remaining Glottalphibs. The first bats had already reached one Glottalphib, and flew into its mouth. The Glottalphib's honking got louder and louder as more bats covered it. Suddenly it stopped honking. It fell over backward, squashing some bats. The others flew away, leaving a gray, desiccated Glottalphib. The three other Glottalphibs were fleeing down the tunnel, honking in fear.
Han shoved Chewie's back. "They're watumba bats, you big baby. They eat algae, insects, and fire, not Wookiees."
Chewie mewled at him.
"Come on," Lando said. He started to swim forward when he stopped as if a rope were tied around his foot. "I don't like this—"
Star Wars - The New Rebellion Page 29