Star Wars - The New Rebellion
Page 38
And revealed a room filled with R2's, R5's, and all the other astromech series, from Rl's to R7's. They were leaning on each other. Some heads swiveled as R2 appeared. Others' electronic eyes flashed. A few moaned, and in the back, one cylinder popped.
The floor catapulted R2 out the door, and he screamed as he flew toward the back of the room. He flew over hundreds—no, thousands—of astromech droids before he crashed on a pile of R5's.
He beeped an apology, but they didn't respond. They were still activated, but listless.
He swiveled his head, and whistled in impressed surprise.
The room extended for at least a kilometer and every centimeter was filled with astromech droids.
The junk heap for unwanted droids that 3PO had always warned him about really did exist. And now he was stuck in the middle of it.
Maybe forever.
FORTY-FIVE
Han's palms were wet. He had never been so uncomfortable flying the Falcon before. He had to pilot carefully. Most of his injured and dying passengers were not strapped in. Any unusual maneuver he made could hurt them further.
Chewie seemed just as uncomfortable and the cockpit smelled of nervous Wookiee. The cockpit door was open, and through it, Han could hear the moans of the injured. One Run medical droid accompanied them, despite the protests, and one Run medical officer. Two experts for nearly a hundred passengers. The Falcon was only built to carry eight people comfortably, but Han had quickly converted the cargo areas, the escape pods, and the secret compartments to accommodate the injured. Loading had taken forever, and when he looked out the door of the Falcon it seemed as if he hadn't made a dent.
It would take days, maybe weeks, just to get through the rubble on Skip 1. That didn't count what would happen on the other Skips.
Chewbacca growled at him.
"I see it," Han said, and dodged a group of rocks the size of landspeeders.
Since he had left the Run, he'd been navigating through the garbage surrounding the asteroid belt. Normally, he flew the Falcon sideways and upside down to get through this area. But this time he had to fly like a Glottalphib ship half-filled with water. Every time someone screamed in the back, Han jumped as if he had been blaster-shot.
They were nearly out. And once they were out, Han had to do two things: He had to find a planet that would take all these wounded, and he had to find out about Leia.
Chewbacca reached over his head and adjusted the navigation controls on the ceiling. The Falcon tipped dangerously sideways, and scrapes echoed through the back compartments, followed by shouts of pain.
"Sorry, sorry," Han mumbled under his breath. He was beginning to understand why he'd gone into smuggling. It was a lot easier than emergency medical lifts.
Finally the Falcon broke free of the belt. "Send a distress signal, Chewie," Han said. He opened his own channels, to see what messages he had. Someone would have sent him word of Leia.
He had just gotten to the messages when Chewie yarled. He had hailed Wrea, one of the planets closest to the belt. They had responded to the emergency.
Han identified the Falcon, and then said, "I am Han Solo, husband to President Leia Organa Solo of the New Republic. I have a shipload of injured here. Some of them are dying. Do you have the facilities to deal with this?"
"Our systems have tracked your progress, President Solo. Your ship came from Smuggler's Run."
Han didn't try to correct their misconception about his own political position. "Yes," he said. "I was on an investigative mission there when the Run was attacked."
"Are the attackers in pursuit?" The Wreans were notoriously suspicious of violence.
"It was a long-distance attack," Han said. "Their droids exploded."
"Droids? All of their droids?"
"No," Han said, deciding to come clean. "Only the most recently stolen ones. Some suspect the droids were bound for Corus-cant."
"Can you vouch for the honesty of your passengers?" the Wrean asked.
Chewbacca glanced at Han. Han bit back an angry reply. It wouldn't work. "Yes," he said. And at the moment, he could. None of the smugglers on his ship was in any condition to steal anything.
"Upon the strength of your word, then, President Solo, we accept your injured. We will prepare our facilities. The coordinates follow."
Chewbacca entered the coordinates into the navigational computer, and carefully turned the Falcon toward Wrea. Han got out of his chair and went to the door, bracing himself with both hands on the frame.
The devastation before him was as bad as it had been in the Run. Maybe worse, because here he could see the extent of the damage on individual lives. Burned bodies, lost limbs, featureless faces. The images of lost hope, and lives changed forever.
"I just got word from Wrea. They'll be taking us." His words sounded hollow over the cries of the injured. He didn't know how many people heard him, and of those who did, how many actually understood what he said. He turned away, even more discouraged than before.
He climbed back in the chair, shook his head at Chewie, and checked the messages stored for him. There were several from Leia, none recent. The most recent message he had came from Anoth, sent just before Han emerged from the Run.
He had it play in holo form.
It was from Anakin. The room behind him was dark, and he was hunched near the console. Obviously everyone else was asleep, and he was sending a message without permission.
"Papa?" he whispered. "Something bad happened, and I can't get Mama or Uncle Luke."
Han felt a pang that his son had turned to Luke before coming to Han. But the children always did on Force matters. They knew Han had no expertise in that area.
"Winter says we would hear if something went wrong. But Papa, I keep having dreams of a dead man. Bad things are going to keep happening again, I know it."
He glanced over his little shoulder, as if he had heard a noise. Then he hunched even closer to the console.
"Please call when you get this. Please."
Anakin's image winked off.
Chewbacca growled softly. Han glanced at his old friend. Chewie's eyes were narrowed with concern.
"You're right," Han said. "What kind of father am I? It hadn't even occurred to me that they might have taken Coruscant droids to Anoth."
Chewie growled again.
Han nodded. Chewie was right. The message had come after the destruction had occurred on the Run. The children, whom he never thought were in danger until Chewbacca had mentioned it, were safe. Nothing had happened.
Except Anakin had felt "something bad." The destruction on the Run? Or something even worse?
The children had been very upset by the explosion in the Senate Hall. Luke had told him of the extent of their distress. He had been too distressed himself to see it.
Chewie howled at him.
"Yeah, I will check up on him," Han said. "But first I want to know what's happening on Coruscant. I can't very well comfort the kid if—"
Han stopped himself from saying anything about Leia. He couldn't make assumptions about Coruscant. Just because the droids were meant for the center of government didn't mean they had exploded there too.
But the chances were that they had.
He swiveled back toward the console, and hailed Leia on Coruscant. Almost immediately, Mon Mothma's face appeared on his small screen.
"Han," she said. "We'd almost given up on you."
His hands were shaking. Chewie moaned softly. "I was looking for Leia, Mon Mothma."
Mon Mothma nodded. "Apparently you haven't gotten her messages, then. She's not here."
"She's not?" Han's mouth was dry. "Is she all right?"
"As far as I know," Mon Mothma said. "We've just discovered that she and Wedge took a fleet to Almania."
"Almania?" That was where those mysterious messages had come from. Where the man that Blue had talked about lived. Kueller seemed to be everywhere. "Why?"
"The ruler there threatened the New Republic, and Leia
in particular. He has Luke there as a prisoner."
"Luke?" Blue's voice echoed in Han's ear: He wants her and Skywalker gone. "She went after him?"
"Until she got Wedge to go with her, what she did was her business, Han," Mon Mothma said in her calm way. "She resigned."
"She resigned?" Each announcement hit him harder. How long had he been gone? Leia loved her post. She would never resign.
Mon Mothma nodded. "She believes that Kueller—the Al-manian ruler—is Force-sensitive. She thinks he has no real interest in the Republic. Instead his interest is in her and her family. She may be right. Would you like me to download his message to her?"
"Yes," Han said.
Mon Mothma was about to sign off when Chewie moaned again.
"Oh, right," Han said. The degree of his upset showed when he couldn't remember his initial fears. "Mon Mothma, is everything all right on Coruscant?"
"The Imperials in the Council are in an uproar about Leia's departure. They want you for treason, Han, because there is some evidence linking you with the Senate Hall bombing, and the local garbage workers have just gone on strike because of some confusion in their last three credit payments." She grinned. "Business as usual, I would say."
He didn't even want to think about the treason claim. It probably had to do with those messages Lando had told him about. "Anything with droids?"
She frowned. "Now that you mention it, we got an odd message from Luke. He must have sent it before his capture or maybe just after since it was in code. It warned us to shut off all the new droids. I trusted the source and did. That's started a whole new level of complaints. You should hear—"
"You shut them down." Han closed his eyes and let relief flood him. If Luke hadn't warned them, all of Coruscant would be in the same kind of ruin that the Run was in.
"Yes," Mon Mothma said. "Is that significant? I was thinking of reactivating them. I simply can't deal with that crisis on top of all the others."
"Don't," Han said.
Chewie was yowling at the same time, saying the same thing in Wookiee.
"We have a ship full of injured smugglers. The droids they had stolen from Coruscant exploded. In fact, Chewie will send you the signatures of several smuggling ships. They'll need help finding medical facilities."
Mon Momma's normally calm features had gone a deadly pale. "They exploded? Is this what happened in the Senate Hall?"
"I think so," Han said.
She took a deep breath, obviously settling herself. "Well, then, I guess we won't reactivate them until we find the source of the problem. Thank you, Han."
"I wish I could say it was my pleasure. But I've got hundreds of dead and injured colleagues that somehow rob the moment of joy."
Mon Mothma nodded. She understood, perhaps better than most. "Han," she said. "Leia perceives this threat from Almania as a personal one."
"I gathered that. Thanks, Mon Mothma."
"I'm sending the download," she said, and signed off.
Han glanced at Chewie. Chewbacca's mouth formed a thin line, as thin as a Wookiee mouth could get. They were nearing Wrea. It had shown up in their cockpit transparisteel, a big blue-and-white ball about the size of Han's fist.
Chewie mumbled that he would handle the landing. Han thanked him, glad that the two of them had an understanding.
Then he contacted Anoth, hoping to get Anakin. Instead Winter appeared.
Han didn't want to get his very creative young son in trouble with his nanny, so he grinned as widely as he could. "Winter," he said, "you're looking good."
"No sense charming me, General Solo," she said. "I've already let Anakin know that no unauthorized communication leaves Anoth."
Han suppressed a shudder. Winter's discipline, while firm, was never harsh. Still, even he jumped when Winter issued her ultimatums.
"But between us," she said, "the children have been quite distraught. I gave them permission to reach their mother, but she has left on some mission. Their uncle Luke is also unavailable."
"This is Force-related, then?"
Winter nodded. "They've all had the same experience, like the one they had before the bombing in the Senate Hall. And Anakin claims he has seen a dead man, over and over again."
"Let me speak to him," Han said.
"As you wish, sir." Her voice didn't have the disapproval her words implied. She was a wise woman, and probably a better parent to his children than either he or Leia was. She was with them all the time. Han had no qualms about the arrangement. Only a few stabs of guilt daily that he wasn't with his children as much as he should be.
Anakin's small face appeared on the screen. His resemblance to Luke always startled Han. That, and his son's blue eyes, which had more intelligence in them than Han had seen in any being, human or otherwise.
"Winter already said I shouldn'ta called you."
Han smiled, hoping that the smile was reassuring. "No, Anakin. You can always contact me. Just let Winter know first."
His son nodded. He looked very subdued. Even the worst of Winter's scoldings never brought this.
"What's happening?" Han asked. "What scared you so?"
"Can't find Mama," Anakin said. "Jacen and Jaina say she's all right, though. We'd know."
"She is all right," Han said. "She's on a trip right now. She'll be back soon."
Anakin rubbed his left eye with his fist. He clearly hadn't been getting much sleep. "I know," Anakin said. "She's going to see the dead man."
Han glanced at Chewie, who shrugged.
"He comes in my dreams. He says he will get us. He can't get us, can he, Papa^"
"No," Han said, feeling an anger so deep that he could barely hold it in. "You're safe on Anoth."
"They got here once," Anakin said.
Han remembered. Winter and a nanny droid had saved his infant son's life. He was surprised that Anakin remembered. But then, nothing Anakin did should surprise him. "Winter saved you. That's what she's there for."
"I wish you were here."
"I do too, son," Han said. Then Jacen and Jaina crowded into the picture and demanded some of his time. He gave them what he could. Chewie growled a warning. Han looked up. Wrea filled the cockpit transparisteel.
"Put Winter back on, would you, guys?" he said. They protested but drifted off, all except Anakin, who watched from the side, looking more serious than Han had ever seen him.
"Winter," Han asked. "Have you any droids there?"
"We shut them off, per Master Skywalker's instruction."
Luke was way ahead of him. Thank every lucky piece Han had ever owned.
"Keep them off," Han said. "And Anakin, no fooling with the droids at all. Okay, son?"
Anakin nodded. No protest, no nothing. That wasn't like his youngest son. Then Anakin said, "Papa?"
Winter stepped aside. Apparently she was as worried about Anakin as Han was.
"What, little Jedi?"
"The dead man says he'll kill Mama."
Han smiled, even though his anger deepened. "The dead man has no right telling you lies in your dreams. I'm going to your mother right now. She'll be just fine."
"He almost killed her the first time," Anakin said, his voice small.
Han started. The Senate Hall, the droids, the messages, everything traced to Kueller. "Maybe he thinks that," Han said, "but your mom is one of the toughest people I know. He scared her. He scared all of us. But he didn't 'almost kill' her."
"She was hurt."
"Yes," Han said. "She was. This 'dead man' of yours isn't very nice. But we'll get him, and we'll make him stop giving you dreams."
"Promise, Papa?"
"I promise," Han said. "You be careful, Anakin, okay? Listen to Winter."
Anakin nodded. "Love you, Papa."
Han glanced at Chewie. Chewie stared at the controls as if he weren't listening to the exchange.
"Me, too, kid," Han said. It was the best he could do in front of Chewie. "See you soon."
And then he signed off.r />
Chewie muttered. Han glanced at the readings. They had almost arrived. And not a moment too soon. The pain-filled sounds in the back were growing fainter. Han didn't want to think about how many of his passengers were already dead.
Kueller was even going after his children. At least, he assumed the dead guy of Anakin's dreams was Kueller. There seemed to be no other explanation.
Whoever he was, this Kueller had Force abilities. And he already held Luke prisoner. Which meant he was strong in the Force.
Like Vader.
Han clenched his fists. He had never been any match for Vader. The man had hurt him at every turn. The abilities that Luke, Leia, and the children possessed sometimes looked like magic to him.
But sometimes magic could be used against its owner.
"Chewie, see if you can find Mara Jade for me. Lando says she's with Talon Karrde. Tell them I need their help."
Chewie growled a query.
Han grinned at him. "A plan? Of course, I have a plan. Have you ever known me not to?"
R2-D2 had several dents, but he had sustained no real damage. Some of the R5 units near him had clearly been damaged in their falls. Broken headlamps, shattered jacks, destroyed control panels were the most visible. He suspected there was even more he couldn't see.
When he first arrived, he had beeped several inquiries, and received no response. Then the R5 next to him had moaned softly. That had started the conversation. The beeping in the room was so loud that it registered above the human tolerance level. These droids hadn't talked with each other—some of them—in years. This room had existed for a long, long time.
R2 bleeped and blatted, answering questions, and asking some of his own. The droids listened, then beeped some more. The whole room had the feeling of a political meeting. More and more droids stood. Others dusted each other off. Still others extended arms, opened their neighbors' panels, and pulled out the detonators, tossing them to the ground. The crunching of detonators rose over the beeping din.
Then, slowly, the droids cleared a path for R2. As he slowly wheeled through theis ranks, a few R2 models slid to the front of the line. They were the same model, make, and year as he was. They were rocking back and forth with excitement. Several other R2 units had picked up the rocking.