Star Wars - The New Rebellion

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

  The tower's main door had been smashed open, and the door's frame had collapsed. Something white and ghostly moved in the doorway.

  "Great," Han said. "Just great. Not only does she fail to find Leia, she leads us to a ghost."

  Chewbacca growled softly. Han squinted. Chewie was right. That wasn't a ghost. Something was alive in there. He pulled out his blaster and moved forward.

  Then a woman yelled in the distance.

  Han raised his head as his heart jumped. That wasn't Mara. That was Leia.

  "Through the alley, Chewie. We'll get this thing later." Han turned and ran for the alley as a male voice answered Leia's. They were too far away to be heard clearly.

  Behind him, Chewie grunted, followed by a massive thud. Han glanced over his shoulder. Chewie was on the ground. A huge, furry creature had one paw on Chewie's back. With its other paw, it was holding the ysalamiri cage and was trying to suck the ysalamiri through it like a piece of spaghetti. When that didn't work, the creature swallowed the ysalamiri, cage and all.

  Han swore and leveled his blaster at the big creature. Chewie was yowling, and it took Han a moment to realize that Chewie was telling him not to shoot.

  Han decided to ignore his partner. The creature's throat swelled and bulged as the ysalamiri cage slid down. Then the creature looked at Han. Its eyes glowed red as it eyed Han's nutrient cage.

  "Oh, no you don't," Han said. He tried to hide the cage behind his back. Chewie was still yowling, but the creature had taken its paw off him.

  Han fired his blaster, but as he did, the thing leaped for him, grazing him with its massive paws. He landed on his back, knocking the cage from his hand. He raised his blaster, but it was too late. The creature already had the nutrient cage in its mouth. With a quick shake of its jaw, it tumbled the cage to the back of its throat, and swallowed it.

  Blood from a scrape was running down Han's shoulder, staining his shirt. The creature tilted its barn-sized head at the blood, then its fur-stained tongue came out. Han crawled backward, away from it, on his hands and feet, trying to stand at the same time.

  Chewie was getting up, but he hadn't pulled his bowcaster.

  Through the alley, Leia yelled again.

  "You can't eat me," Han said to the big furry white creature. "That's my wife. And you just swallowed my plan."

  Chewie yowled at him.

  "I'm not shooting at it," Han said.

  He scrambled to his feet. The creature hadn't moved any closer. Chewie gave it a small wave as he ran past it. Then Han flanked Chewie, and they headed into the alley."

  The creature did not chase them.

  "You mind telling me why you're suddenly friendly with a giant furball? Is it a cousin?"

  Chewie wailed, the precursor to his angry yell.

  "All right, all right. Forgive me," Han said. "I got a little upset when that thing ate the creatures that would ensure the rescue of my wife."

  Chewbacca didn't respond to that. He kept pace with Han as they hurried through the alley.

  His shoulder hurt something fierce, and the air on this planet was a bit thinner than he was used to. He tripped on a rock, but regained his footing after a moment. Rubble was strewn all over this alley.

  He hadn't heard Leia yell again.

  Something thudded behind them. Han glanced over his shoulder again, to see the giant creature try to squeeze into the alley, fail, and turn away, dejected.

  "Great," he mumbled. "The thing's feelings are hurt because it's too fat to fit into the alley."

  Chewie growled a warning. Han grimaced. How did Chewbacca and that thing become such fast friends?

  He was nearly to the mouth of the alley when Leia yelled again. This time, though, the word was clear.

  It was Luke's name.

  And she said it in a voice that Han had never heard before, but he knew what it meant.

  It meant he was too late.

  Her hands were useless, and Kueller was no longer listening to her arguments. He was watching Luke.

  Luke, who looked like a man possessed.

  Luke, who had always warned her not to give in to anger, was giving in to his.

  And Kueller was smiling. He seemed to be growing taller, and broader, the aura of power around him so great that it made him seem invincible.

  Then a look passed across Luke's face. It was a familiar look, but it wasn't his. She had seen it before.

  On the day she met him, so many years ago.

  She had seen that look the only time she had seen Obi-Wan Kenobi alive. He had been fighting Darth Vader, and then he smiled, and raised his lightsaber—

  —and Vader cut him in half. His lightsaber's blade faded, the hilt spinning through the air before landing on his empty, steaming cloak.

  Luke had said Obi-Wan believed that moment made him stronger, but really it had only made him dead.

  Dead.

  Leia stumbled a few steps forward. Luke didn't see her in the growing darkness. Kueller hesitated as Luke slowly raised his light-saber blade toward his face.

  Just as Obi-Wan had.

  Kueller smiled.

  Just as Vader must have.

  "Luuuuuuuuuuke!" Leia screamed as Kueller brought his lightsaber up, preparing to strike.

  FIFTY-ONE

  The Star Destroyers continued heading for the Yavin. The Wild Karrde fired at them, as did the Calamari, their shots missing the soft spot and ricocheting off the deflectors.

  "Sir," Ean said. "They're heading directly for us."

  Wedge watched them, still clutching his hands together. He was gambling so many lives on a hunch. But if he followed the normal attack patterns, they would all be dead. He knew that much.

  "Sir," Sela said. "If they get in too close, we won't be able to hit the targets. Our short-range weapons don't have the kind of power—"

  "I'm aware of that," Wedge said. "I want you to shoot at the Calamari again." He didn't want to shoot at the Wild Karrde, afraid that the smuggler would stop helping altogether.

  Shots streamed past the Calamari, and the nearby TIE fighters joined in the shooting. The Calamari rocked as the blasts hit the deflectors. Wedge wasn't even sure if his shots went wide.

  "They're just outside our short-range weapons, sir. If we're going to shoot—"

  "We're not going to shoot," Wedge said. His hands had grown cold. The silence in the command center was frightening. Even Karrde had stopped cursing him. The other ships probably thought he was dead.

  The Star Destroyers filled the dome overhead. They had ancient blast scars on their bottoms and their white lines were marked with rust.

  "Sir, I think with our short-range fighters—"

  "No," Wedge said. "Ean, I want you to go to the top gunpods. I want people there, with blaster cannons in hand."

  "We could reactivate the droids, sir."

  "No. This is one-time precision shooting. Any A-wing or old X-wing pilots will go there as well." He should be there too, but he didn't trust his command crew with this assignment. They were already close to mutiny. If he abandoned them now, they would completely ruin his plan, such as it was.

  "They're overhead, sir. If they fire now, even our shields won't hold." The man who spoke was visibly shaking.

  "They won't fire," Wedge said. "Let me know when those gunners are in position."

  The Star Destroyers looked massive, both on the screens and through the domes. The TIE fighters had redirected their assaults on the Wild Karrde and the Calamari. Both ships were shooting back, taking out TIE fighters as quickly as they could. The remaining B-wings were buzzing the TIE fighters, but the fighters had augmented weapons. The slaughter continued.

  "Sir?" Sela said. "The Star Destroyers. They're flanking us."

  "They're going to shoot?" Wedge asked.

  "No, sir." Sela sounded puzzled. "I mean they're flanking us. Like one of our ships would do."

  Then Wedge grinned. His hunch had been right. Those ships were piloted by droids. And since his action
was illogical for a New Republic commander, they assumed he was one of theirs.

  Now. If only his luck held...

  "Are those gunners in place?" Wedge asked.

  "Yes, sir."

  He hurried to the gunning console, and positioned the target map. "Using that," he said, "they need to hit the precise point I've marked. No other spot. You got that?"

  "The precise point?"

  "They'll only get one chance at this each. Because if they screw up and hit the shields, those ships will turn their fire on us." Wedge stood, his heart pounding. "The moment those shots are fired, I want open channels to the Calamari and the Wild Karrde. I also want us to dive at two point six three on my mark. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good." Wedge glanced up. He could see nothing except the bottom of the Star Destroyer.

  All or nothing on one gamble. One hunch.

  He took a deep breath, and said, "Fire!"

  Luke was raising his lightsaber, his heart pounding. He was reaching out with the Force, going back to the place he had gone when he first fought Exar Kun. He would be out of his body but protected within the Force. Just as Ben had done in his battle with Darth Vader.

  Luke would come back even stronger, and he would guide Leia to defeat Kueller.

  Luke's lightsaber had reached a thirty-degree angle with his chin when he felt as if he were wrapped in a warm, soft blanket. He could still see through his eyes, but the rest of his senses were suddenly dim. He could no longer sense Leia or even Kueller.

  His blade came up, and Kueller's blade swung back, but Luke couldn't leave his own body. He had lost the Force. It was gone. He was blind and numb without it.

  He would die without it.

  Kueller's blade came down, and Luke limped out of the way only to back into the ruined tower wall. Kueller had him cornered. There was no place to go.

  Luke was trapped, both inside, and out.

  FIFTY-TWO

  Kueller felt as if he were moving through mud. The swift grace that had come with his lightsaber training faded as if it had never been. The strength that had flowed through him since he killed the Je'har had suddenly disappeared.

  He could no longer feel Skywalker's anger. Or his sister's fear.

  Or even that strange new wrinkle in the Force he had felt a moment earlier.

  Skywalker backed away from him, and Kueller brought his lightsaber down. It slammed into the stone wall behind Skywalker, sending sparks flying and a shimmer up his arm. Kueller staggered sideways.

  He didn't know what kind of trick Skywalker was using on him. He suddenly couldn't think very clearly. It was as if he had been tossed underwater. All that he relied on within himself had disappeared.

  Then he noticed a similar expression on Skywalker's face. The man looked stunned. He wasn't manipulating his own lightsaber as he should.

  If Skywalker wasn't doing this, then who—?

  Kueller turned, and started when he saw two new figures standing in front of the alley. He couldn't see them well in the twilight, and as he reached with the Force, he couldn't feel them. Had they caused this? Who were they? What were they doing to him?

  Skywalker brought up his own lightsaber as if it weighed ten times more than usual. Kueller's felt equally heavy.

  This wouldn't work. Thwarted again, somehow, by Skywalker and his friends.

  Anger surged through Kueller, but it didn't increase his strength. He roared at them, and Skywalker laughed. Laughed.

  All advantage that Kueller had gained was lost. He let his lightsaber fall to the ground. Not all was lost. He still had one more trick up his very full sleeve.

  The Yavin went vertical as it dove away from the Star Destroyers.

  "Ceousa! Karrde!" Wedge shouted through the open communications lines. "Fire on the destroyers! Now!"

  TIE fighters were moving his way. Nothing seemed to have happened to the destroyers when his own people had fired on them. All this subterfuge might have been for nothing. And he would lose all of his ships.

  And then explosions rocked the Yavin. "Damage?" he shouted to his crew.

  "Nothing, sir," Sela said.

  "That wasn't us," Ginbotham said. "That was a Star Destroyer!"

  Wedge braced himself, rose, and stared at the tactical screen. The destroyer that had been right above the Yavin was simply a sparkle of light. Pieces soared past. Some hit what was left of the Tatooine, and sent her careening farther away from the battle.

  "Get Karrde," he said.

  "No need, sir," Sela said. "He's using everything he has on the TIE fighters around him."

  The A- and B-wings were also going after the TIEs, and it looked like a rout. Faster and faster and faster they went, chasing the TIEs all over that section of space.

  But the other Star Destroyer still lingered above. It had turned on its running lights, and was preparing to dive.

  "Blast," Wedge said. Enough of command. The ship would handle itself now. "Sela, you have the comm."

  Wedge made his way over the toppled droids and smoking interiors toward the gunport. He could blast that Star Destroyer without the help of a tactical computer. He should've been there in the first place.

  He climbed into the gunport, slipped on his helmet, and strapped in. Then he grabbed the laser cannon. His crew were shouting all around him. Communications static burst into his headphones but he ignored it.

  He had to.

  If the Star Destroyer got too close, it would explode the Yavin. The Star Cruisers were more vulnerable than Star Destroyers. More sweet spots, more target areas. And after this much fighting, weakened deflectors. Also, fighting droids made this battle that much harder. Droids were better at precision shooting. That explained why the Tatooine had been destroyed so quickly.

  The Calamari showed up on Wedge's display. It was coming after the Star Destroyer. But it would be too late. The destroyer was shooting now, and all the shots were hitting the shields. They rattled the Yavin, making Wedge glad for his straps.

  "Making evasive maneuvers," Sela said. "Prepare for..."

  Wedge pulled off his headphones. He didn't want to think about command. He shoved aside his targeting computer, too. He didn't have the Force, as Luke did, but he had something else, just as important. Faith in his own abilities. And he was close enough to that destroyer to see his target clearly, something that rarely happened in space.

  The red shots looked like a spray of blood coming from the base of the destroyer. They were hitting the shields. He could feel the pattern, knew what they were doing. They were shooting in an ever-narrowing margin, getting closer, and closer, and closer, until all the shots converged into one big one right at the Yavin's most vulnerable point.

  The weak spot in the shields.

  It would only take a few moments.

  Wedge gripped the laser cannon. He hadn't fired a shot yet. It felt as if he only had one.

  The Star Destroyer's shots were getting closer together. Near the gunports, people were screaming. The Yavin wouldn't hold together much longer, but the base of the destroyer was in the wrong position. Wedge kept the cannon pointing at the Star Destroyer's weakest spot.

  The destroyer loomed overhead, filling his entire vision. His hands were sweating on the cannon handles. He kept moving the cannon, waiting, waiting, waiting—

  And then it was in position. He held his arms steady, punched the trigger, and watched the single shot fly.

  It was long and thin. It soared in the space between the Star Destroyer and the Yavin, red against the destroyer's scarred white surface. For a moment it looked as if the shot would ricochet off the shields, and then bounce back and forth between the two ships like a ball caught in a narrow corridor.

  But it didn't. It hit the weak spot, which glowed bright red. Wedge grabbed his helmet and shouted into the mouthpiece, "Dive! Dive! Dive!"

  The red glow spread and there was a small pop at the first explosion. Then the Yavin dove. Wedge turned his chair so that he could see
.

  The Star Destroyer exploded: white and red and yellow against the blackness of space. A flower opening, a lightning bolt expanding, a fire starting and ending all in the space of a heartbeat. Beautiful and terrible at the very same time.

  No lives lost, though.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. The cries in the nearby cabins had grown. There was probably a lot of damage, and they still had the TIE fighters to deal with.

  But the worst was over.

  This battle was won. But he wondered what was happening with the war.

  FIFTY-THREE

  R2 had apparently seen a structural map of this moon. He was leading the droids with some type of purpose. The corridors were sloping upward. The sound of rolling wheels was deafening. One astromech droid was a handful. Hundreds of them were—well—terrifying.

  More and more joined the group all the time. Some had scorch marks. Others had dents in their chrome surfaces. Still others had parts hanging out of their sides. They came from side corridors, and each time, another astromech droid would query about the Red Terror. The red gladiator droids hadn't been seen by any of them except an ancient astromech unit, one that had been old during the Clone Wars. It claimed that it had seen red droids shooting at each other in a cloud of smoke, more and more red droids approaching that area all the time.

  The astromech droid who heard this news bleebled in astromech glee and had passed the word to the other droids. This parade of astromech droids assumed the Red Terror were destroying one another.

  A ripple of blerps ran through the astromech droids, rather like a wave carried on the Mon Calamari sea. Something concerned them. When 3PO reached the spot, he understood. Large signs in more than thirty languages, warning all unauthorized droids to stay away on pain of memory wipe.

  A large spotlight shone on the corridor and the lighting got considerably brighter beyond that spot. One-way mirrors lined the wall.

  R2 ignored the sign, dodged the spot, and continued into the light. His chrome glistened. He had never looked so determined, with his wheels forward, and his blue-and-silver body tilted at a jaunty angle.

  The astromech droids followed, splitting up around the spot, flowing around it like water around a stone. Warning sirens started to go off, and 3PO glanced behind him. He was bringing up the rear. If the Red Terror hadn't defeated itself, it would be here shortly, and he would be the first target.