As more and more detonators appeared, older droids stood and reinitialized. An R5 picked up the rocking, followed by an Rl. Soon most of the older droids were rocking and beeping, while the remaining detonators were pulled from the newer astromech units.
R2 made his way to the opening, whistling an invitation to the others. An R5 unit jacked into the computer panel near the door, and slowly the door slid back.
The hallway outside was dark.
Then another sound rose over the beeping. It was the sound of rolling wheels. R2 swiveled his head. All the R2 units of his generation were following him. Several R5's were also in the mix, and so were a few R6's.
Then he reached the door and went through. A loud chorus of whistles rose from the room—a droid cheer. R2 joined in, and then stopped at what he saw when the hallway lights came on.
Ten red droids, their oddly colored metal forms glistening in the artificial light. They had laser cannons pointing out of their chests, blasters instead of fingers, and flat eyes showing the intellectual capacity barely above a binary load lifter.
The other droids backed away from R2, and he faced the Red Terror alone.
FORTY-SIX
The Millennium Falcon came out of hyperspace almost on top of the Wild Karrde. Han swerved quickly to miss Talon Karrde's ship, infinitely relieved that he no longer had passengers. Still, Chewbacca swore loudly and creatively in Wookiee, using descriptive terms Han wished he didn't have to think about.
He braced himself against the communications console, and jabbed it with his finger. "What the hell do you think you were doing?" No greeting, no nothing. He was too angry for that. Karrde had been careless.
Han was tired of carelessness.
Karrde's deep voice answered. "Fine greeting for someone you asked to help you."
"When giving rendezvous coordinates, the normal procedure is to put a little distance between the ships," Han said. "We all could have been killed."
"It's a lot worse out there," Karrde said. "Your fleet is taking a pounding, and I'm not going to stay."
Chewie flicked on the long-range sensors, and the battle screen. Han could see only the Wild Karrde through the cockpit trans-paristeel, but the long-range battle screen showed the fleets. The blips looked very close to each other, and almost indistinguishable. It looked as if both Kueller and Leia had large forces.
And it didn't look as if things were going well.
The urgency Han felt tripled.
"You got what I need?" he asked.
"I hope you have the credits to pay for them," Karrde said.
"You know, just once, Karrde, you should donate your services."
Karrde grinned. "I would never get rewarded as richly as you have, Solo."
"Believe it or not, Karrde, I never did any of this for the reward."
"I believe it, Solo. And every once in a while, I donate my services too. Mara's outside with your ysalamiri. Say thank you."
Han hadn't expected Karrde's quick capitulation. It made him instantly suspicious. "Yeah, ah, thanks," Han said. He waved a hand at Chewie. "Go let her in."
Chewbacca was already out of his seat.
Han turned back to Karrde. "You're letting Mara come with us?"
"I've got no need for her. Seems she has some interest in what happens to Skywalker. Says you might need her."
"She knows this Kueller, then?"
"I doubt it." Karrde's pet vornskr put its face near the screen. The creatures were ugly, even from a distance. "I think it's more personal than that. She's been having daylight dreams. She thinks she's hiding them from me, but she's not."
"Kueller's after her too."
Karrde nodded. "I'm beginning to think the phrase, 'May the Force be with you' is a curse."
"I sure hope not," Han said. "The Force has been with me for years now. My family's steeped in it."
"You know what the ysalamiri will do, don't you?"
Han grinned. "That's why I want them. Thanks, Talon."
"Don't mention it," Karrde said. "I mean that."
The outside hatch snapped shut, and Han could hear Mara's voice in the passageway. He got out of the cockpit and went around the lounge area to the top hatch.
Mara Jade's lithe dancer's figure filled the hallway. Her green eyes blazed as she thrust the nutrient cage with the ysalamiri at Han. "Keep these things far away from me," she said.
He had never liked her much. She had always been abrasive, and not in the pleasurable way he found Leia's occasional rough edges to be. He could never forget that Mara Jade had once been Emperor Palpatine's secret weapon and trusted confidant, the Emperor's Hand. Luke claimed that her hatred had been implanted and that she never really believed in the Empire. But Han's world didn't have as much gray in it as Luke's. Mara Jade once worked for the Empire. Therefore he would never really trust her.
"If you didn't want to be near them," he said, "then you should have left with Karrde."
She shook her head, and then put a slim hand against her forehead. The ysalamiri affected her Force senses. Han had heard about this but never really seen it. He'd only had Luke's descriptions. "I've been seeing Luke on a sandstone street, burning alive."
Her husky voice sent chills through Han. "Can you see the future?" he asked.
"I don't think so," she said.
"Chewie," Han said, "put the ysalamiri in the cargo bay. I hope that'll be distance enough for you, Mara. This ship isn't very big."
"It'll have to do," she said.
Chewbacca took the cage, and disappeared toward the back of the Falcon.
"Why did you really come?" Han asked.
She swallowed. Her color was poor. Luke said the ysalamiri pushed the Force away from themselves, creating a bubble in which the Force did not exist. He said it was like suddenly going blind and deaf. Han thought of it as leveling the playing field. In the Force bubble, a Jedi Knight had no more powers than a normal person.
She leaned against the wall. "Do you know how many people have died in the last few weeks, Solo?"
"Enough," he said, thinking of the Run.
"More than enough," she said. "Too many. Kueller's using them to build strength. He's absorbing the dark side like a droid hooked up to a power cable. If this continues, he may be unbeatable."
"You don't believe that," Han said.
She raised her head. She was stunning, he had to give her that, with her bright green eyes, and red, almost auburn, hair. A woman to respect. A woman that no one ever should tamper with. "I haven't felt power like this since Palpatine in the early days. If this continues, Han, Kueller will be stronger than the Emperor ever was, and he'll do it quicker."
"So you're not here for Luke after all." She swallowed. "It may be too late for Luke. I'm here for the rest of us."
"Why didn't Karrde stay, then?"
"He was going to," she said, "until he saw the battle raging near Almania."
"What's going on?"
"Three Victory-class Star Destroyers versus the New Republic fleet. When we came out of hyperspace we saw one of the Mon Calamari Star Cruisers explode. The New Republic is losing the battle, Han. They'll die out here, and that will give Kueller even more power."
There was more strength in her voice now. Chewie must have gotten the ysalamiri to at least the periphery of her range.
"He can't be all-powerful," Han said. "We would have known."
"Luke knew," Mara said. "My sources say Kueller was one of his students. Luke let him get away."
"Luke never lets students 'get away.' They're free to leave if they want."
"Well, my sources say Kueller left in hatred. That vision of Luke backs it up."
Han didn't want to think about his friend dying alone on some strange planet. Anakin's voice came back to him. / can't get Mama or Uncle Luke. "That settles it, then," he said. "Is Kueller on the Star Destroyers?"
Mara shook her head. "It didn't feel that way from the Wild Karrde. From the snatches of communication transmissions Talon w
as picking up, it seemed like Kueller was on the ground."
How like the Emperor, always there, always behind the scenes.
"Verify that, would you, Mara?"
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to stop this."
"All by yourself? Han, he defeated Luke."
Han grinned. "I'm not worried."
"Overconfidence can get a man killed."
"Exactly," Han said. "I'm counting on it."
She studied him for a moment. "You really believe that old wives' tale, don't you? You really believe that the best way to defeat a powerful man is to become his equal."
"The ysalamiri won't make me his equal, Mara," Han said. "They'll give me an advantage."
She shook her head. "If he was trained as a Jedi, he's physically powerful. It takes a lot of stamina to go through the training."
"I know," Han said. "But I just watched you under the influence of those things. Luke described it as being blind and deaf. A man who has lost power is obsessed with its loss. That'll give me a momentary advantage."
"Be sure you take it," she said. "Because a moment may be all you have."
Ships blowing up in space reminded Kueller of the past. Even though he was winning this battle, with the destruction of most of the A-wing squadrons and one Star Cruiser, he felt as if he had failed.
War allowed people to feel fear. It gave them time to curse their leader. Survivors often blamed not their own incompetence, but the desires of the person who had sent them into battle.
He had hoped to avoid this. His Star Destroyers were for show, not for might. And yet, the crews were serving him well, better than he had hoped.
If only something weren't nagging at him, some detail he was forgetting.
Another A-wing exploded on several screens scattered around the room. On the tactical display, a blip disappeared. A man's scream was cut off mid-thrum on the overhead speakers. He wondered if the New Republic knew that their communications had been tapped.
He wondered if they even cared.
Yanne was shouting orders to the tactical team before him. Voices echoed throughout the command center. Some were digitized voices of TIE fighter pilots. Some were the less-audible voices of the A-wing pilots.
And there were two new blips on the tactical screen, nearly outside Almanian space.
"What are those?" Kueller asked.
"Newcomers, milord," Gant answered. "The first ship appeared, almost joined the fray, then turned tail. As it ran back to its hyperspace launch point, the other ship appeared almost on top of it."
"I want those ships identified."
"Yes, sir."
Kueller looked at the dome above him. Except for the big flash of light that had appeared moments after the Star Cruiser exploded, he had seen no evidence of battle. If the people of Almania were still alive, they would have seen no battle in the skies above.
If they were still alive.
He smiled. He had their wealth, along with that of Pydyr, and Auyemesh. He would soon use these places of his power and hold the entire galaxy in thrall.
His TIE fighters were flying in an inverted V formation toward the next Star Cruiser. Didn't the New Republic realize that he knew the schematics of their vessels? That included the easiest way to destroy the ships. He had learned his lessons from Master Skywalker well.
Skywalker.
That was what he was feeling. Skywalker was moving. Kueller detached himself from the group as Vek came to him.
"Sir, we've identified the ships."
"Not now, Vek." Kueller pulled back even farther.
"But, sir, Yanne said you needed to know. It's the Wild Karrde and the Millennium Falcon."
Kueller suddenly focused on the young man before him. His face was round, his eyes a dark reddish-brown, and his skin still covered with acne. One of the handpicked survivors of Kueller's revenge on Almania. One of the thousand who made it, and Kueller had trouble remembering why he had let the child live.
"Han Solo's ship?"
"Yes, sir."
Kueller smiled. The boy took a step backward. "Well, Sinewy Ana Blue did her job, even if she is a bit late. Double her credit account as promised."
The boy looked at him oddly. "Yes, sir."
Solo was here. He didn't really need him anymore because Organa Solo was already on the planet, but Kueller would take what he could. Solo was a vigorous defender of family and friends, and once Kueller was done with Solo's wife and brother-in-law, he would go after Solo's children. It would be a lot easier to do that with Solo gone.
"Yanne!" Kueller yelled.
Yanne looked up from his post near the tactical display. "Milord?"
"We have guests in the outer rim of our sector of space. Veer off a destroyer and get rid of them, will you?"
"Sir, we've got the New Republic fleet in a perfect pincer movement. If we veer off ships now, we run the risk of losing all of them."
Kueller shrugged. "Do as you see fit. But don't let those two new ships leave. I want them destroyed."
Yanne frowned. "Yes, sir."
"And Yanne."
"Yes, sir?"
"Until I return, you are in charge of all of this." Kueller smiled. "And remember. I dislike failure."
Yanne put a hand to his throat. "I'm not likely to forget, sir."
"Good." Kueller left the command center. It had fatigued him to be inside. That sense of failure followed him. Yanne had tracked down the feelings Kueller had gotten after giving the orders. The droids had been destroyed on Smuggler's Run. The stolen droids. But the regular ones had not. Which meant that someone had discovered the detonators and deactivated them.
Brakiss?
Kueller shook his head. He would have sensed the betrayal. No. It had come from a source he hadn't suspected, hadn't even known existed. Someone on Coruscant must have discovered the droids.
He should have thought of that.
But no matter. The government on Coruscant was self-focused. They wouldn't think to warn all the governments in all the sectors. And Brakiss had outfitted all new droids with the detonators—had done so now for nearly two years. That would be enough to put terror in the hearts of the entire galaxy.
Kueller would do that shortly. First he would guarantee he had all the power he needed.
It was time to take care of Skywalker and his sister.
Kueller had sensed the disturbance in the Force when Organa Solo landed on the planet. His own private monitor had shown her ship landing near the towers, and he had felt Skywalker's valiant attempt to drive off his guards. Kueller had ordered that there be no reinforcements.
He wanted them for himself.
The tower wasn't far from here.
With Skywalker weakened, and Organa Solo untrained, Kueller would have the advantage.
He gripped his lightsaber in his right hand. An advantage did not guarantee a win. He would have to have some backup.
Skywalker and Organa Solo would not leave Almania alive.
FORTY-SEVEN
As Brakiss and his droids marched Cole deep into the factory, Cole's mother's angry description of him ran through his head like a mantra: impetuous, stubborn, impulsive. She had said those words to him when he wanted to go to the Jedi academy, when he went to work in Anchorhead, and when he left Tatooine. She had said his desire to be a hero would get him in trouble one day.
She was right.
Even though her words ran like background music through his brain, his conscious mind was examining the possibilities. Brakiss had him at blaster-point. The assassin droids also had their weaponry out, and up ahead, he saw old-style Imperial gladiator droids.
Cole was alone, with one rather flaky protocol droid and one savvy R2 unit, both of whom were, at the moment, not available to help.
Maybe by now, Mon Mothma or Admiral Ackbar might know where he was, but there was no guarantee that they'd care.
Impetuous, stubborn, impulsive.
Might as well add stupid to
the list. His faith in R2 was so great that he had somehow thought the little droid would have things under control.
Strike that.
His faith in himself hadn't allowed him to think of this possibility. He had thought that a hero only needed to be on the right side in order to win.
The floor sloped downward, and all the signs had disappeared. The walls were unfinished, and the glow panels above were bare—something he had never seen before. They gave a starkness to the scene, a bleakness that matched what he was feeling inside.
Of course Brakiss knew about the detonators. He'd put them there. And he seemed to have the same sort of charisma that Leia Organa Solo had, something that Cole was beginning to understand came from the Force.
He was letting them take him far from the freighter, but he saw no other choice. He had to give R2 time to work, to do whatever he thought he could do here.
Finally they reached a large steel door. Brakiss keyed in a code, and the door hissed open. Cole tried to take a step back, but Brakiss placed a hand against Cole's back.
The room was large and smelled of ozone and burning metal. Sparks flew as droids screamed. Large zaps and zots filled the air, followed by more cries from artificial voices. This was a droid torture chamber. Cole had heard of them but had not believed in them.
It took a particularly sadistic mind to determine effective ways to torture creatures that could not feel pain.
But Cole could.
The steel on the door had double reinforcements, and so did the walls. A thin droid made from unfinished metal chuckled when she saw him.
"A human for you, Eve," Brakiss said. "See what you can do with him. I want to know why he's really here, so don't kill him."
"Deal with him yourself," the droid said in an hypnotic female voice. "I hate easy targets."
"Hurting him is easy. Keeping him alive is hard, and keeping him sane will be even harder. I trust your devious mind can find ways to do both."
The droid walked toward Cole on thin legs. She tilted her head and peered into his face. Her eyes were gold slits, and her metal smelled of blaster scorches.
Star Wars - The New Rebellion Page 39