Under A Black Sun Trilogy

by Kevin J. Anderson

  from one end of the galaxy to the other." He turned back toward his

  children and draped his arms across their shoulders as they all walked

  into the cool shadows of the temple's interior. With flashing lights

  and a bleeping sound Artoo-Detoo trundled forward to meet them.

  Han reached around Anakin and patted the droid's domed head in

  greeting.

  "It'll be good to spend some time alone with the family. Just my kids

  and me," Han said. "A quiet, relaxing vacation."

  "Oh, I doubt that, Dad," Jaina said. "From what I hear, there's always

  something interesting happening on Ord Mantell."

  Even if Jacen wasn't entirely thrilled about leaving his close friend

  Tenel Ka behind for a few days, Jaina reveled in the chance to fly

  beside her father as his genuine copilot. Although she felt dwarfed by

  the huge seat that normally accommodated a burly Wookiee, she handled

  the Falcon with as much expertise as she did the Rock Dragon.

  So far it was one of the best times she had ever shared with her

  father. Young Anakin, with his ability for grasping problems and

  solving complex puzzles, studied the navigational charts and considered

  various paths through hyperspace, until he announced that he had found

  a perfectly safe shortcut to Ord Mantell.

  After Han Solo double-checked Anakin's calculations, he announced that

  he saw no reason not to try the new route. If his son was right, the

  new path would cut a full six standard hours off their transit time.

  Once the Falcon was in hyperspace, Han said to his children, "Ord

  Mantell's in the middle of nowhere, but that's not necessarily a

  disadvantage. A lot of smuggling traffic goes through there. Its

  position makes the planet about equally close to anyplace else along

  certain hyperspace paths. So even though it's not exactly convenient,

  Ord Mantell makes a good way station or stopping point."

  "If it's a smugglers' hangout, you probably spent some time there

  between Derbies-right, Dad?" Jacen asked. "Before you became

  respectable, I mean."

  Han Solo laughed. "Plenty of times, Jacen. I never tried to hide my

  checkered past from you all. Doesn't seem to bother your mother

  anymore. After all, I learned some of my most useful skills when I was

  a smuggler and a crack pilot-even studied at the Imperial Academy for a

  while. All that stuff in my past is part of who I am; the things I

  learned made me a vital asset to the Rebellion when we fought the

  Empire. I don't spend time regretting what I've done in my life, so

  long as I can use it now to help the people I love."

  Jaina raised her eyebrows. "So if we ever do anything you think is

  dumb, you'll understand, right? You'll just accept it as part of our

  growth and training?"

  Han knitted his brows. "Uh, that's not exactly what I meant."

  Jacen stood leaning against the back of his father's chair in the

  Falcon's cockpit. "Tell us what you did on Ord Mantell, Dad."

  "I ended up there pretty often when I was a smuggler. Seems like every

  time I went to Ord Mantell I ran into one bounty hunter or another, and

  every one of 'em meant trouble. One of the worst was an insect

  creature named Cypher Bos, a mercenary, as vile and selfcentered as

  they come. He was impersonating his identical hatch-mate brother, who

  was a Rebel sympathizer. But all those bug-people look alike, and I

  couldn't tell the difference. Cypher Bos sold us out and almost

  captured your mom and Luke and me. Then the three of us nearly got fed

  to the Imperials by a cyborg bounty hunter named Skoff. They just

  never learn." He shook his head.

  "But one of the worst pinches I ever got into was against a tough

  smuggler named Czethros, and his Rybet henchman Brim. They were

  licensed bounty hunters, as well as black-marketeers in the Ord Mantell

  system, and had some connection to Black Sun. When Chewie and I were

  in a tight situation once with the Falcon, we had to land on Ord

  Mantell and get repairs. The system was crawling with Imperials, but

  we made it without getting stopped.

  "When Czethros found out I was on Ord Mantell, he and his pal set up a

  trap, kidnapped Chewie." Han gave a halfhearted grin as he relived the

  memory of his bygone adventure. "Told me to give myself up for the

  reward, or he'd kill my Wookiee friend."

  "So how did you get away?" Jacen said.

  "Turned the tables on 'em, of course. I'd been keeping an eye on

  Czethros through some smuggler friends and found out he and Briff were

  taking an unmarked skimmer out to the place where I was supposed to

  give myself up. I stole Czethros's own ship from its hangar bay, did a

  few things calculated to make the Imperials mad, then led them on a

  merry chase on my way to the exchange point."

  "Must've been quite a ride," Jaina said.

  Han grimaced. "Not one I'd like to repeat. I made it to the

  rendezvous with just enough time to hide before the stormtroopers

  showed up and nabbed Czethros along with his Rybet buddy. He claimed

  total innocence, of course, but the ship obviously belonged to him.

  The stormtroopers searched the ship and found plenty of ...

  irregularities.

  Weapons, drugs, and so on. While they were busy, I managed to sneak

  over and free Chewie. Next thing we heard, the Imperials had carted

  Czethros and Briff off to the spice mines on Kessel. I think his

  henchman worked some kind of deal a year later with Moruth Doole, a

  Rybet who worked on Kessel. From what I've seen in recent reports,

  Czethros is actually something of a respectable businessman on Ord

  Mantell these days. 'Course I'd bet my left repulsorpack module that

  he's still heavily into the smuggling business."

  "Aren't you afraid he might try to cause trouble for you while we're

  there?" Jaina asked. "He could still be holding a grudge."

  Han blew air through his lips. "Not a chance. Been too many years.

  It's all lava under the bridge by now." But Jaina noticed a twinge of

  concern on his face.

  She turned toward the navigation controls. "Time to drop out of

  hyperspace. We should be pretty close to Ord Mantell."

  Han looked over and smiled at his youngest son. "Well, Anakin, let's

  see how your calculations worked out."

  Jaina was pleased to see, as they dropped out of hyperspace, that the

  Falcon was already so close to the correct position that they were able

  to slip into orbit with only minor course modifications.

  Ord Mantell was a bland planet of average size, with average gravity,

  and an average atmosphere. Its topography showed the usual landscape

  variations-mountains, forests, and swamps. Skeins of clouds

  embroidered white patterns in the sky below. However, for orbital

  convenience and launching maneuvers, much of the equatorial band across

  the continents had been settled and converted into spaceports that

  boasted large docking bays and no-questions-asked cargo-handling

  policies.

  Ord Mantell had some of the most lenient banking laws in the New

  Republic, famous for their flexibility. Banks there would accommodate

  anyone, in an
y line of business. As long as customers didn't cause

  trouble, or at least didn't get caught-and remembered to pay the

  appropriate landing fees, tariffs, and permit taxes-bankers never

  interfered.

  Han looked over at his daughter. "Ever piloted a ship down from orbit

  all the way into a docking bay?" he asked.

  Jaina brightened. "Nothing as big as the Falcon. I've done it with

  the Rock Dragon quite a few times, though."

  "Well then, this'll be no problem for you," Han said, but his lop sided

  smile twitched slightly, as if he were nervous. Jaina pretended not to

  notice. "Go ahead and take her down."

  Jaina used the copilot controls to alter their vector and plow into the

  atmosphere at a shallow angle. While they descended, Anakin helped her

  to locate a landing beacon from the docking bay at which Han had

  reserved a berth for the Falcon. He programmed in their landing

  coordinates.

  The atmosphere shone blue on the equator as they dove closer to the

  surface. Jaina watched the silver-white belt of development that

  girdled the world resolve itself into a bustling metropolis filled with

  blocky prefab buildings, large flat rooftops, and countless balconies

  that extended out far enough for small private craft to launch secretly

  in the dead of night.

  "Most of those buildings don't have addresses," Han Solo explained.

  "On this planet, if you don't know where you are and where you're

  going, then you don't belong there."

  "How do people find their way around?" Jacen asked.

  "It looks challenging," Anakin said.

  "Except for the Derby, Ord Mantell's no place for tourists," Han went

  on. "People don't come just to hang around. You can get a lot of

  things done here if you happen to be willing to bend a few rules-but

  sightseeing isn't one of them. This planet's mainly for passing

  through, a place to pick up cargo or get a new assignment. Imperials

  used this system for fleet training maneuvers because the outer

  planetary orbits are so hazardous. The cometary cloud's pretty

  thick-that's where the course is for the Blockade Runners Derby."

  While Han rambled on, Jaina sweated. She gripped the controls in

  preparation for landing the big Corellian ship. She didn't know why

  she suddenly felt so anxious, but her hands grew damp with perspiration

  as she brought the Falcon in. Maybe she just wanted her father to be

  proud of her. Gusty winds swirled around the tall blocky building in

  the center of her scope. Far below, red, blue, and green ground cars

  crawled along; illuminated skimmers soared between the buildings in

  skyward alleys.

  "Just take it easy, Jaina. You're doing fine," Han said.

  "Yeah, don't sweat it," Jacen said. "We trust you."

  Jaina paused and let her confidence build, despite the warble of

  uneasiness she had heard in her twin brother's voice. She took a deep

  breath.

  "Well, what are you waiting for?" she muttered to herself, and brought

  the Falcon down toward the big flat rooftop outside the landing bay.

  As she approached, running lights illuminated a rectangular slit that

  yawned open, wide and dark. "Those're the docking doors, Jaina. You

  have to float down below. Our berth is in the upper bay."

  Jaina swallowed. She had thought just landing the light freighter on

  the rooftop would be challenge enough; now she had to slip through this

  narrow hole that, from this height, looked barely a meter wider than

  the Falcon's hull. She couldn't let anything happen to her dad's

  ship.

  "May the Force be with you," she heard Jacen whisper. Then she

  remembered that her uncle Luke always told them to use their Jedi

  senses in addition to their training in any skill.

  She was a good pilot. And she was a Jedi. She drew a deep breath, let

  her body relax into the seat.

  The Millennium Falcon became part of Jaina, an extension of her mind,

  and she could sense the distance to the outer walls. She slipped the

  light freighter between the opening doors without so much as a wobble

  or a jitter.

  Han looked at her in proud amazement. "That's very smooth, Jaina."

  "Just tell me where to land," she said. Her fingers danced across the

  repulsor engine controls. Her calm voice betrayed none of her

  uneasiness.

  "Over there." Han gestured, and she saw a broad docking bay where a

  group of people stood waiting to greet them. Amber lights flashed, and

  someone holding bright laser torches directed the Falcon to its landing

  place.

  With a final hiss, the landing pads touched down on the deck plates.

  Jaina felt a thrill of exhilaration. What had she been so worried

  about?

  Han hugged her.

  As they all unbuckled their crash restraints and stood up to head for

  the landing ramp, Han said, "Wonder who's in our welcoming committee.

  " "They could've hired musicians ... maybe some kind of a band," Jacen

  said. "You are an official representative of the New Republic."

  "Not only that," Han said, brushing the front of his vest. "I'm Grand

  Marshal of the Blockade Runners Derby. That's a pretty big honor

  around these parts."

  Han Solo, along with Anakin, Jacen, and Jaina, hurried to the landing

  ramp-only to find a group of armed soldiers blocking their exit.

  Looming in front of them was a tall, broad-shouldered man who wore a

  cape and blasters at his hip. Close-cropped moss-green hair covered

  the top of his head. A band of metal, inset with lights and sensors,

  encircled his head like a ring around some pale-green planet. The

  front half of the silver metal band was a visor that completely covered

  his eyes. The rest of the metal band appeared to be permanently

  affixed about his ears and the back of his skull. He seemed to be

  receiving a continuous flow of information through the apparatus, and

  his lips curled in a sneer. A constantly moving cyberoptical laser

  sensor burned through a thin slit in the narrow visor, glaring at all

  of them.

  Han Solo stopped in his tracks. His confident expression quickly

  faded. "Czethros!" he said, a look of disbelief in his eyes.

  The sinister-looking man lifted his chin, his gaze frozen in a metal

  glare. "Han Solo," he said in a rough, gravelly voice. "I knew if I

  waited long enough, you'd return to Ord Mantell."

  Though Han fought to keep a calm expression on his face, Jacen sensed

  the sudden wave of apprehension rippling through his father.

  The guards looked tense, ready to fire.

  Han had long since stopped carrying a blaster at his hip-a good thing,

  Jacen supposed; otherwise they'd probably be in the middle of a

  shoot-out right now. His father had been hoping for a calm family

  outing while he did a bit of official work for the New Republic as a

  special guest at the famous race. They hadn't been prepared for

  anything like this.

  Then Czethros stepped forward and surprised them all by extending his

  thickly gloved hand. The skin on his face rippled as his lips twisted

  in a smile. "Welcome back to Ord Mantell, Solo. A lot has changed

&nb
sp; since you and I were ... opponents those many-years ago."

  Eyes narrowing just a fraction, Han Solo reluctantly slid his hand into

  the former smuggler and bounty hunter's grip. "Uh, yes ... that's

  right," he said, still cautious. Jacen felt the thick uneasiness in

  the air.

  He, Jaina, and Anakin looked at each other in confusion.

  "Back then, I was an officially licensed bounty hunter. You were a

  posted Imperial target," Czethros said. "Nothing personal, of

  course.

  No hard feelings."

  "Of course." Han flashed the metal-visored man one of his most

  charming lopsided grins. "I thought after all those years in the spice

  mines you might, uh, hold a grudge."

  "It's the nature of the bounty-hunting business," Czethros said. His

  laser-red cyber-eye drifted left and then right. "I used every trick

  to apprehend you, and you used every trick to get away. You just

  happened to have one more trick in your repertoire than I did-at the

  time, at least." He stepped back toward the gathered guards. "But I!m

  no longer in that line of work. I have a thriving business here on Ord

  Mantell. In fact, I pulled a few strings to get you selected as Grand

  Marshal for the Blockade Runners Derby. Since you'd settled down and

  weren't likely to be one of our contestants this year, I thought you

  might want to participate in some small way ... if only to see what

  you're missing."