Under A Black Sun Trilogy

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Under A Black Sun Trilogy Page 5

by Kevin J. Anderson


  scrutinized the exploded bits of metal and the unmarked casings,

  careful not to contaminate the pieces so that they could be analyzed

  more thoroughly later.

  "Hey, we're alive," Han said. "That's more important than any speed

  record."

  When the Falcon landed back on the rooftop receiving area, Czethros and

  several other concerned representatives rushed forward to help the Solo

  family disembark. The crowds of spectators who had witnessed the

  explosion were in an uproar, and the people sent up a cheer as Han Solo

  and his children gave a confident wave to show that they were all

  right.

  A nervous-looking race official approached Han, bowing and

  stammering.

  "Oh, I'm most sorry, sir! This is terrible! We have, of course,

  postponed the Blockade Runners Derby at least until tomorrow. We've

  already sent a crew of freelance inspectors up to comb through the

  obstacle course in search of any other hidden traps."

  "This was a near-tragedy. We must not risk anything worse happening,"

  said a second official.

  Czethros stood tall, sunlight making his green hair look like a

  mosscovered boulder. "I doubt the inspectors will find anything," he

  said grimly. "My guess is those mines were originally being taken to

  An obis, a planet in the next system that has been engaged in a civil

  war for decades now. They frequently order weapons from black-market

  dealers on Ord Mantell." The Derby officials flushed in deeper

  embarrassment.

  "Hey, how could space mines from some civil war land right in the

  middle of the racecourse?" Jacen asked.

  "The war's still going on, and has been for almost thirty years.

  Many of Ord Mantell's smugglers work as gun runners to supply the war

  effort." Czethros shrugged. "Those mines could have been part of a

  dropped shipment, or even a trap set for former space authorities

  before Ord Mantell became more enlightened and allowed freer trade."

  "Uh-huh," Han said.

  The following day, after the brief and frantic postponement, racing

  officials attempted to relaunch the Blockade Runners Derby with renewed

  fanfare. Looking forward to the day's festivities with subdued

  eagerness, Jacen, Jaina, Anakin, and their father ascended a tall

  observation tower above the docking buildings.

  Bald, pink-skinned Bith band members followed them, playing stirring

  and dramatic music to mark the beginning of the Derby. The crowd

  cheered. The ever-present HoloNet news reporters made repeated

  references to the Solo family's miraculous escape from deadly

  explosives the previous day.

  Inside the observation tower, Jacen sat next to his sister and younger

  brother, while most of the reporters focused their attention on General

  Solo. The huge windowscreens were transparent to allow the gathered

  VIPs an unobstructed view across the landing centers and docking bays

  of the Ord Mantell strip. Once the Blockade Runners Derby began, most

  of the screens would turn opaque and show images transmitted from the

  holocam buoys. This would let everyone follow the haphazard progress

  of the contestants in their assorted souped-up ships as they roared

  through the tangle of the outer cometary cloud.

  Several lavishly dressed racing officials hovered near Han Solo,

  preoccupying themselves with insignificant details. Han looked

  somewhat out of his element, uncomfortable in his formal clothes.

  "Since I already flew the course once, what exactly do you want me to

  do here as Grand Marshal?"

  "Well, whenever you're ready," one of the bureaucrats said, fluttering

  perspiration-damp hands in the air and indicating a single red button

  on a panel, "we need you to push this button."

  "That's it?" Han said.

  "It's a very important task," the bureaucrat answered, blinking in

  surprise. "It's how we start the race."

  Han gave him a lopsided grin. "Well then, I'll be sure to do my

  best."

  "No need to worry, sir," the bureaucrat said. "So far, in the

  ninetythree-year history of the Derby, only two Grand Marshals have

  failed to do it correctly."

  Jacen couldn't imagine how anyone could possibly manage to push a

  single button incorrectly, but then he'd seen some pretty disastrous

  bungling of simple matters in the course of his adventures.

  "All right then, let's get this over with," Han said, his finger

  hovering near the button.

  "No, no! Not yet," the bureaucrat insisted.

  "You said, whenever I was ready," Han reminded him.

  "But we have to send the thirty-second warning to the contestants

  first. And the HoloNet reporters need to get into position." The

  bureaucrat frantically twiddled some dials and punched codes into a

  small yellow touchpad.

  In the observation tower several of the broad windowscreens dimmed, now

  displaying transmitted images of spacecraft up in orbit.

  Other contestants remained on landing pads as a second wave in the

  breakneck race through the cometary obstacle course. All ships would

  be clocked, and the winner would be determined by the fastest time

  through.

  Han grinned. "Did I ever tell you kids how I made the Kessel run in

  under-" "Yes," Anakin broke in.

  "How could we not know, Dad?" Jacen said. "It's one of the most

  famous things you've ever done."

  Han brushed his fingers down his vest. "I wouldn't say that,

  exactly.

  I mean, saving your uncle Luke countless times, infiltrating the Death

  Star, freeing your mom from an Imperial prison chamber, helping defeat

  the entire Empire, exploring unknown worlds-" The bureaucrat

  interrupted him. "Now you may proceed, sir," he said. "All ships have

  been informed and are ready to begin."

  Han stepped forward to the red button and extended his finger.

  "This button, right?"

  "Yes, that's the one."

  "You're sure I'm doing this properly?"

  The bureaucrat did not pick up on his sarcasm at all. "You seem to be

  performing most admirably."

  "Good," Han said. He pushed the button. The Blockade Runners Derby

  began.

  Ships roared off pell-mell, choosing their own preferred routes to the

  cometary cloud, some swinging around the planet for a gravitational

  boost, others heading in a straight-line path, still others taking an

  incomprehensibly convoluted course.

  The holocam buoys captured some of the contestants as they streaked by,

  an odd assortment of supercharged vessels, modified so that the pilots

  could withstand excessive acceleration; some ships had heavily

  reinforced shields to allow them to rip through the course without

  worrying about ramming into a few comets along the way.

  Jaina stared at the viewscreens, her face filled with fascination.

  "Look at the range of spacecraft!" she said. "Skimmers, freighter's,

  courier vessels ... Dad, I don't even recognize some of those vehicle

  types."

  "Anybody with a few spare parts and some ingenuity can create their own

  new vehicle type," Han said. "Done it myself a few times."

  A
new ship flashed across the screen so rapidly that though Jacen

  thought for just a moment that he recognized the configuration, he

  decided it must be just his imagination. After all, he'd been

  daydreaming about Tenel Ka. It was only natural. Even though he was

  glad about being able to spend some time with his father, he also

  missed the young warrior girl.

  And Lowie, too, of course ...

  Since the discovery of the space mine cluster on the course, several

  contestants had dropped out. Han had commented that they must have

  been too fainthearted in the first place and it was no great loss. Now

  only the toughest, most seasoned pilots remained in the race.

  The ships jockeyed for position, jostling each other and nearly causing

  a few collisions as they tried to find the best routes that didn't

  intersect each other. The vehicles scraped by far closer than their

  collision-avoidance systems should ever have allowed, but most of these

  crack pilots had probably shut off their warning systems anyway.

  One viewscreen showed a graphical representation of the race. Blips

  with code numbers traveled through the obstacle course on the grid.

  Jacen could watch the progress of the contestants by tracking the

  colored lights. Some blips moved forward; others fell behind. The

  holocam buoys, while an ingenious idea to cover the race, nevertheless

  provided only infrequent snapshots at discrete points-not enough images

  for anyone to follow the entire spectacle.

  A Sullustan Vector-class spaceskimmer went slightly off course, and

  careened into the comet field. The buoy holocams caught the image as

  the skimmer struck an icy protrusion, then went into a spin. Enhanced

  deflector shields protected the pilot from instant death, but the ship

  was knocked completely awry, and the Sullustan pilot, disoriented,

  zoomed away in the wrong direction.

  A pair of Corellian single-occupant fightercraft swept along opposite

  sides of a comet and nearly collided with each other at the other

  end.

  They spun out. One ship crashed in the ice field, its pilot ejecting

  in a lifepod at the last moment and sending out a distress beacon. To

  their credit, race officials reacted instantly, dispatching medical

  droids and rescue craft that waited just outside the cometary cloud.

  "I wish Lowie were here to see this," Jaina said, still fascinated by

  the dazzling images of the great race.

  "And Tenel Ka," Jacen said, narrowing his eyes. "She must be thinking

  of us. I feel like I'm sensing them somehow-as if they're closer than

  we think."

  On the gridmap of all the racing ships, Anakin pointed to one blip that

  was slowly passing every competing vessel. "This one will win," he

  said. "I can tell by the piloting, by the speed. It has already

  overtaken most of the others that were launched first, and this ship

  entered the race near the end. It won't crash, either. I'm sure of

  it."

  Outside in the streets of Ord Mantell, spectators watched the flat

  unmarked walls of square buildings that had been turned into

  transmission screens to carry images from the buoys scattered along the

  racecourse. Elsewhere in the New Republic-particularly in gambling

  casinos such as those in Cloud City on Bespin, cantinas on Borgo Prime,

  and various other legal and illegal meeting places-people placed bets

  on the Derby's outcome.

  If Jacen had ever decided to gamble, he would certainly have taken his

  younger brother's recommendation. Anakin had an uncanny ability to

  predict things such as this. He watched the blip creep past several

  other racers as the ship zoomed through the cometary debris.

  "Who is that contestant?" Jacen asked. He looked down at the code

  number, but it meant nothing to him.

  The bureaucrat came over, all smiles. "That one qualified at the last

  minute." He rubbed his hands together in a nervous gesture. "And it

  looks as if we were correct to let them enter so late. The pilot seems

  most skillful."

  The mysterious ship passed two more competitors, swooped around a large

  comet, then zigzagged through the toughest part of the course.

  The craft moved in time with the broken icy space debris, reminding

  Jacen of an intricate dance. The ship and the comets seemed to be

  cooperating, moving as one connected system. He had never before seen

  anyone fly with such sensitivity to the surrounding environment and

  obstacles.

  The ship hurtled around the last comet and then looped back toward Ord

  Mantell and the finish line. The time displayed on one of the screens

  was better than any of the other competitors had clocked. No one would

  be able to beat it.

  As the craft zoomed past the last holocam buoy, Jacen and Jaina watched

  the blur. Jaina recognized it almost immediately, but took a moment to

  put her thoughts into words. "That ... that's a Hapan passenger

  cruiser. I recognize the design."

  "It's Tenel Ka!" Jacen said. "And Lowie. They must have a great

  pilot."

  "I've never seen Lowie fly that fast," Jaina said.

  "Well," Han said, "they certainly won the race."

  The bureaucrat stood up. "Come, Han Solo. You are the Grand

  Marshal.

  You must be on the upper platform to greet our winners as they arrive

  back from the cometary cloud. The other ships will straggle in, but

  you must be there to wave and shake their hands ... or appendages."

  "Well, somebody's got to do the job," Han agreed.

  "We're going along," Jacen replied. "If that's Lowie and Tenel Ka in

  the Rock Dragon, I want to be the first to see their faces."

  The bureaucrat glanced at him after checking the race contestant

  records. "I'm afraid you may be mistaken. No one by the name of

  'Lowie' or "Tenel Ka' is registered as the pilot of this vessel."

  "We'll just see for ourselves," Jaina said.

  A turbolift took them to the top of the observation tower, and then a

  floating platform shuttled them across the crowded rooftops. The

  hastily erected grand stadium stood by itself, garlanded with beautiful

  feathers, flowers, and the colorful flutterplume creatures that Jacen

  had identified.

  Jacen shaded his eyes and looked up at the azure sky until he saw a

  glint of the ship appearing from high orbit, cutting through the gusty

  winds. The pilot unerringly found the reception platform and the

  waiting celebration. Jacen and Jaina waved, recognizing the Hapan

  passenger cruiser that Jaina herself had flown so often with Lowie at

  her side as copilot.

  "You're right, kids," Han Solo said. "That's the Rock Dragon. No

  doubt about it."

  When the small ship settled down, dozens of new floaters surrounded the

  stage and platform, holocams and curiosity seekers. In the distance,

  cheering crowds of humans and aliens stood on rooftop landing pads, in

  ship hangars, and on balcony flight decks, waving banners and

  shouting.

  Jacen could already see other contestants coming in to land, now

  fighting for second or third place.

  But when the Rock Dragon's hatch opened and a figure
emerged, Jacen was

  astonished to find that it was neither Tenel Ka nor Lowie.

  "Zekk!" Jaina cried. Behind Zekk, her other two friends stepped out

  and stood next to their new dark-haired pilot.

  Tenel Ka gave only the faintest smile upon seeing Jacen-then again, she

  never gave more than a faint smile about anything-but Lowie bellowed

  loudly, raising a ginger-furred fist in victory. He seemed immensely

  pleased that the Rock Dragon had won the prestigious daredevil race.

  Zekk's emerald eyes flashed, and he gave his friends a warm smile.

  "Just following Master Skywalker's instructions," he said. "He told me

  to find something I was already good at, and try to use my Jedi skills

  to become even better. I've always enjoyed piloting, so I thought a

  hotshot race might just be a good test."

  "And it was indeed quite a challenge for us all," Em Teedee chirped,

  sounding exhausted.

  Jacen looked around at his friends. The crowd cheered the winners, but

  all that mattered to Jacen was having the young Jedi Knights back

  together again.

  Together again, the young Jedi Knights learned how to deal with being

  celebrities. Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin had already spent a lot of time

  with their father in his duties as Grand Marshal of the Blockade

  Runners Derby, but now that Zekk, Tenel Ka, and Lowie had actually won

 

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