by Timothy Zahn
LaRone turned away. “They were … we … were ordered to kill them,” he said. “All of them.”
“Everyone in town,” Grave said. He hesitated. “Starting with the aliens.”
“Oh no,” Luke breathed. “But you … you didn’t. Did you?”
LaRone didn’t answer.
Han glanced at Luke, his stomach tightening. Though after Alderaan, what did he expect? What did any of them expect? “And you really think this kind of thing can be fixed from the inside?”
“We’re not here to fix the galaxy, Solo,” Grave said. “We’re just soldiers.”
“Not even sure we’re that anymore,” Brightwater muttered.
“I’m not here to fix the galaxy, either,” Han assured them, choosing his words carefully. He had a pretty good read on these men now, and the best way to sell them on this would be to echo their own feelings and motives straight back at them. “I just want to fix a corner of it here and there.” He waved out toward the stars. “Rescuing our friend is one of those corners.”
“Our oath of allegiance was to the Emperor.”
“Maybe,” Han said. “But if you ask me, a soldier’s real job is to protect the people.”
“We don’t need you to tell us where our duty lies,” Marcross said quietly. It was, Han noted with interest, the first comment he’d made since the conversation had turned in this direction. “And we’re wasting time.”
“You’re right,” Han agreed. “So what’s it to be?”
Han’s comlink clicked. “LaRone, he’s here,” Quiller called. “The Falcon. Looks okay to me. You about finished?”
Han looked at LaRone, wishing he could see the man’s face. “It’s up to you,” he said.
LaRone looked at each of the others in turn. Then, almost reluctantly, he turned back to Han. “Quiller, tell the Wookiee we’re taking him and his friends to Shelkonwa,” he said. “Tell him to hide his ship somewhere in case the Reprisal comes back. When he’s done that, have him give you the coordinates and we’ll come get him.”
“Or else Luke and I come with you and Chewie takes the Falcon to Shelkonwa on his own,” Han suggested. “We can meet at some nice quiet rendezvous point in the system, and he can come aboard then.”
“I guess that’ll work,” LaRone said. “Quiller?”
“I’ll let him know,” Quiller said. “You find everything you needed?”
LaRone looked at Marcross. “Oh, yes,” Marcross said quietly. “Everything.”
“We’ll be back at the pad in ten minutes.” LaRone turned back to Han. “We’ll take you to Shelkonwa,” he said. “But once we’re there, you’re on your own. If we can manage to meet up again, we’ll give you a ride back out to wherever you leave the Falcon. But that’s all we’ll do for you and your Rebel friend. Understood?”
“Understood,” Han said.
“And you can leave that blaster where it is,” he added to Luke. “We have better ones aboard the Suwantek.” Turning, he headed for the exit.
“Sure,” Luke said, throwing Han a look of strained patience.
Han shrugged back. “You heard the man,” he said. “Let’s go.”
The tunnel’s exit was ten kilometers farther on, a camouflaged cave north of the base. As Mara lifted the ship above the intervening hills she could see that the incoming freighter had arrived and had landed on Pad 8, the Happer’s Way’s former home.
For a moment she considered swinging back around and hitting them while they were vulnerable on the ground. But no. She had no real evidence that they were connected to the attack, and anyway she had no time to spare. Keying the nav computer for the nearest system with decent medical facilities, she headed out.
An hour later she dropped the ship back out of hyperspace to carry out Tannis’s last request.
The Emperor had little patience with memorials, Mara knew, with extra contempt for the practice of saying words over the fallen. Mara said a few words anyway, half remembered ones from her childhood, before consigning Tannis’s body to the emptiness of space.
When she again seated herself at the freighter’s helm, it was with a dark and icy anger in her soul. TIE fighters and turbolaser fire together added up to a Star Destroyer, and according to Captain Norello the only one in the sector was the Reprisal.
Captain Ozzel almost certainly wasn’t in league with the BloodScars directly. The man was ambitious and pompous, but it required a special kind of daring to take that sort of risk, and Ozzel simply didn’t have it. Colonel Somoril had both the daring and the utter lack of ethics, but even a senior ISB officer couldn’t order a Star Destroyer captain into combat this way. In fact, aside from a few special cases like Mara herself, the only person outside the Fleet chain of command who could do that was the sector governor himself.
And as she’d seen in the bunker, the Commodore’s final action had been to call someone in the sector capital.
With a final look at the wrapped body drifting through the void, Mara turned the ship toward Shelkonwa. Governor Choard had sent the Reprisal to destroy the BloodScars and cover his tracks. He was a traitor to the Empire.
And Mara was going to take him down.
Chapter Eighteen
LEIA HAD FULLY EXPECTED TO FIND GOVERNOR Choard’s troops already surrounding their hotel by the time she and Chivkyrie arrived. But the hotel and grounds looked just the way they’d left them an hour and a half earlier.
Nevertheless Chivkyrie insisted on entering alone to retrieve their belongings, directing Leia to a tapcafe across the street that catered to offworld personnel. Leia went in, ordered a small drink just for show, and found a table by a window where she could watch.
It seemed like forever before Chivkyrie finally emerged from the hotel, her carrybags looped casually over his shoulders. He looked around, then crossed the street toward her. Dropping some credits on the table, Leia went outside to meet him. “What took you so long?” she asked as she took the bags.
“I thought it would be wise to make a few comlink calls,” Chivkyrie said, gesturing her down the street away from the hotel.
“Forgive the impertinence, but that doesn’t sound all that wise to me,” Leia pointed out. “You could have been tracked and caught.”
“If so, better there than in your presence,” Chivkyrie said. “At any rate, I believe we may have at least a little breathing space. While the ports have been closed to all female humans of your description, my friends tell me there are no reports of wide-scale patroller activity, at least not in the first-tier areas where any search would naturally begin.”
“Or else Choard is smart enough to assume we’ll avoid those places.”
“Hardly,” Chivkyrie said calmly. “There is a large population of Adarians in Makrin City and the surrounding area. Governor Choard is quite familiar with our strengths and weaknesses and way of thinking. Furthermore, Chief Administrator Disra unfortunately knows me all too well. He knows that I could not permit a guest to stay in quarters below her own proper tier.”
“Yet you did so,” Leia pointed out.
Chivkyrie ducked his head. “No,” he said, sounding embarrassed. “I allowed you to check into that hotel, but I never intended for you to actually stay there. I planned to send my servants to pick up your belongings after our meeting and move them to my home.”
Leia grimaced. They were indeed an inflexible people. “So where are we going now?”
“Do not worry, Princess Leia,” Chivkyrie said, his voice grim but steady. “My tier status will no longer be a problem for us, nor will it cloud my thinking and dictate my actions.” He seemed to brace himself. “For you see, my actions have betrayed my guest. I have no choice but to renounce my name, my home, and my tier status.”
Leia stared at him in surprise. For an Adarian to do such a thing was the societal equivalent of cutting off his arm. Did he really understand that? She opened her mouth to ask—
And had the grace to shut it again. Of course he understood.
By joini
ng the Rebellion he had tacitly stated he was willing to give his life for freedom. Now he had placed his social standing on the line, as well. For an Adarian, that was a far harder decision to make. “Thank you,” Leia murmured. “What now?”
“Now,” Chivkyrie said, lengthening his stride, “we find a way to use the brief time we have been given.”
Leia picked up her own pace to keep up. Inflexible these people might be, but they were also honorable and brave. It was, she decided, a fair trade.
They walked three blocks, then got onto one of the public air transports heading northwest toward the main spaceport. They got off six blocks later and switched to a transport headed south toward the main interstellar financial district and the third-tier residential areas around it. At the edge of the district they again switched transports, this one heading east toward where Makrin City ended abruptly at a line of craggy cliffs dotted with dark caves.
“The catacombs,” Chivkyrie said, pointing at the distant holes visible between the buildings and occasional trees as they walked down a stained walkway. “Over the centuries they have housed the criminals and the exiled, the bringers of war and the bringers of plague. At this time in our history they have become home to the destitute of many species, peoples who came to Shelkonwa looking for a better life but failed to achieve it.”
Leia wrinkled her nose and was immediately ashamed of her reaction. It sounded grim, but no worse than some of the other places she’d found herself in over the years. If Chivkyrie could lower himself to mixing with his society’s lowest tier, she certainly could do so.
Besides, the caves could hardly smell any worse than the aromas assaulting her from the packed rows of buildings lining the narrow street. “Sounds like a good place to hide out for a while,” she said.
“It is an ideal place,” Chivkyrie agreed. “Which is why we are not going there. The caves will be one of the first areas Governor Choard orders searched when he realizes we are not in any of the city’s first-tier locations. We will, however, take some of your personal items there later, the better to confuse our pursuers.”
“Good idea,” Leia said. “If we’re not going to the catacombs, where are we going?”
Abruptly, Chivkyrie stopped. “Here,” he said, pointing to the building beside her.
Leia looked. They were standing by a small tapcafe squeezed in between two secondhand stores, with a faded sign over the door in Adarese and a four-language menu in the tinted window. “Here?” she echoed.
“It is sometimes wisest to hide the prize in plain sight, is it not?” Chivkyrie said. He was trying to be decorous, Leia knew, but it was abundantly clear that he was quietly pleased with himself. “I have thus obtained for you a job.”
For one of the very few times in her life, Leia found herself at a complete loss for words. “Oh,” she said, just to say something.
“I searched the employment ads myself, to eliminate any chance that it could be traced to a servant or friend,” Chivkyrie went on. “You can begin immediately.”
“Thank you,” Leia said, again mostly to say something. The tapcafe, she noted uneasily, seemed to be the source of the majority of the neighborhood’s objectionable odors. “What exactly will I be doing?”
“Serving at tables, of course.” Chivkyrie frowned. “Unless you would prefer to cook?”
“No, no—serving’s fine,” Leia assured him. “I don’t actually know any Adarian recipes.”
“The tapcafe also serves Mungras and other species,” Chivkyrie said. “Perhaps later you will be asked to cook for some of them. But we will stay with serving for now. Come—the workers’ entrance is around the block and through the back. The manager, Vicria, is expecting you.”
Vicria turned out to be a lanky female Mungra with dark red accents in an otherwise tawny mane. “This position requires the lifting of heavy trays,” she said doubtfully, her orange eyes measuring Leia’s slender form.
“I understand,” Leia assured her. “Don’t worry, I’m stronger than I look.”
“We will soon discover whether that is true,” Vicria said. “There are covergowns in that locker. Put one on, then come to my office for an orderpad.”
Leia nodded. “Thank you.”
On Alderaan all the serving had been done by BD-3000 attendant droids. But Leia had been served often enough by living beings that she’d long since become used to the idea. Indeed, after the first few such experiences she’d hardly even noticed the servers anymore unless there was a mistake or accident of some sort. She’d therefore managed to come away with the impression that such work was both simple and largely effortless.
It took only a standard hour for her to lose the simple part of her preconceptions. Serving a table’s worth of even these lower-tier Adarians was a subtle minefield of small intra-tier distinctions that required her to take their orders in the proper descending rank succession and not simply by how they were arranged around the table. Since the protocol apparently was for the highest-ranked person to choose his or her preferred seat, followed by the others in their turn, there wasn’t even a consistent pattern that repeated itself from group to group, and Leia collected several icy complaints before she figured that out.
The Mungras were less socially rigid, but they presented their own unique set of challenges. It was almost a relief when, late in the afternoon, three humans wandered in. Or it would have been if they hadn’t been so obnoxiously falling-down drunk already.
The effortless part of the preconceptions took three standard hours to lose.
It was just after midnight when she finally trudged up the stairway to the row of fourth-floor apartments the tapcafe provided its employees. Chivkyrie was waiting, dozing in a large armchair that would have comfortably accommodated an overweight Gamorrean. “Ah,” he said, snapping awake and pulling himself upright as she closed the door behind her. “I trust the evening’s work went well?”
“It went reasonably well, yes,” Leia confirmed, looking around as she took off her covergown and hung it on the rack by the door. The apartment was small and cramped, no bigger than a ship’s cabin and only slightly better furnished. But it had a comfortable-looking bed, and that was all she really cared about right now. “The afternoon, on the other hand, was pretty much a disaster,” she added. “How about your day?”
“Marginally productive,” Chivkyrie said. “The patrollers have begun searching all first- and second-tier hotels, aided by a contingent of Governor Choard’s own palace soldiers. There is food in the locker, if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you.” Crossing to the apartment’s cooking corner, Leia opened the supply locker. There was some leftover Adarian cuisine in back, a selection of more human-palatable food in front. “Sounds like they’re getting serious,” she said as she pulled out a meal’s worth of the latter and loaded it into the cooker.
“More serious than you realize,” Chivkyrie said soberly. “I am told that a message about you has been sent to Imperial Center.”
Leia grimaced. She’d hoped that Choard would keep the search local for a while in the hope of reaping whatever political prestige would come of personally turning her over to the Emperor. Apparently he’d decided instead to let the Imperials do some of the heavy work. “Any idea how soon they’ll have a force here?”
“It may be here already,” Chivkyrie said. “There are two army garrisons in Shelsha sector, one of them only six hours’ flight time away. There is also a Star Destroyer on patrol that could be brought in.”
“And probably will be,” Leia said. “They’ll need something with heavy firepower in orbit in case we make a run for it.”
Chivkyrie sighed deeply. “I am sorry, Princess. I have failed you. I can see no way out for us.”
“I’ve been in worse places,” Leia assured him, fighting against the seductive pull of despair. The only thing at the end of that road was defeat. “All we can do is hold on to freedom as long as we can and watch for an opportunity. Don’t forget, if Vokkoli and Slan
ni made it off Shelkonwa safely, they’ll have gotten word to the Alliance leadership.”
“Which is too far away to reach us with aid before the Imperials arrive,” Chivkyrie pointed out. He took a look at Leia’s face and grimaced. “My apologies,” he said, ducking his head. “I should not be speaking thus. I know the Alliance will do everything possible to rescue you.”
Leia turned her face to the cooker, a memory flashing unexpectedly through her mind. I’m Luke Skywalker, the too-short stormtrooper had said eagerly as he pulled off his helmet. I’m here to rescue you.
He could have been here beside her now, too, if she’d just kept her mouth shut at that meeting. So could Han, if he weren’t so infuriatingly stiff-necked about politics. Instead the two of them were flying madly around the sector trying to figure out how to protect Alliance supply lines from pirates.
A mission that was about to become totally irrelevant, she realized glumly. With Chivkyrie’s imminent capture, and with Vokkoli and Slanni now known to Choard and his people, the Rebel presence in Shelsha sector was as good as destroyed. Once it collapsed, there would be precious little need for supply lines.
She shook her head sharply. That was despair talking again. What she needed right now was to put all such thoughts firmly away, and to get herself some food and sleep. The physical inevitably colored the emotional, and she was as physically drained right now as she’d been in a long time.
She was pulling her meal out of the cooker when through the half-open window she heard the faint sound of breaking glass.
Chivkyrie was on his feet in an instant, a blaster in his hand. “Get down,” he whispered as he moved cautiously toward the window.
Leia ignored him, crossing instead to the door and flicking off the lights. In the sudden darkness she dug her hold-out blaster from her pocket and joined Chivkyrie at the window.
There were fewer streetlights in this part of town than in the higher-tier areas. But there was enough light to see the two shadowy figures on the roof of the three-story building across the wide back alley, plus a third figure who was even now easing his way through one of the darkened third-floor windows.