by James Luceno
“True,” Karrde said. “Except that given the damage to your X-wing’s subspace radio, the Republic presumably has no idea what happened to you. The Empire, unfortunately, does.”
“And it’s not what they would offer,” Mara put in. “It’s what they have offered. Thirty thousand.”4
Luke pursed his lips. “I had no idea I was so valuable,” he said.
“You could be the difference between solvency and failure for any number of marginal operators,” Karrde said bluntly. “There are probably dozens of ships out there right now, ignoring schedules and prior commitments to hunt for you.” He smiled tightly. “Operators who haven’t given even a moment of consideration to how they would hold on to a Jedi even if they caught one.”
“Your method seems to work pretty well,” Luke told him. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me how you’ve managed it.”
Karrde smiled again. “Secrets of that magnitude are worth a great deal of money. Have you any secrets of equal value to trade?”
“Probably not,” Luke said evenly. “But, again, I’m sure the New Republic would be willing to pay market value.”
Karrde sipped from his drink, eyeing Luke thoughtfully over the rim of the cup. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said, putting the cup back on the table beside him. “You tell me why the Empire is suddenly so interested in you, and I’ll tell you why your Jedi powers aren’t working.”
“Why don’t you ask the Imperials directly?”
Karrde smiled. “Thank you, but no. I’d just as soon not have them start wondering at my sudden interest. Particularly after we pleaded prior commitments when the request came in for us to help hunt you down.”
Luke frowned at him. “You weren’t hunting for me?”
“No, we weren’t.” Karrde’s lip twisted. “One of those little ironies that make life so interesting. We were simply returning from a cargo pickup when Mara dropped us out of hyperspace on the spur of the moment to do a nav reading.”
Luke studied Mara’s stony expression. “How fortunate for you,” he said.
“Perhaps,” Karrde said. “The net result, though, was to put us in the middle of the exact situation that I’d hoped to avoid.”
Luke held his hands out, palms upward. “Then let me go and pretend none of this happened. I give you my word I’ll keep your part in it quiet.”
“The Empire would find out anyway.” Karrde shook his head. “Their new commander is extremely good at piecing bits of information together. No, I think your best hope right now is for us to find a compromise. Some way we can let you go while still giving the Imperials what they want.” He cocked his head slightly. “Which leads us back to my original question.”
“And from there back to my original answer,” Luke said. “I really don’t know what the Empire wants with me.” He hesitated, but Leia should be well beyond Imperial reach by now. “I can tell you, though, that it’s not just me. There have been two attempts on my sister Leia, too.”
“Killing attempts?”
Luke thought about it. “I don’t think so. The one I was present for felt more like a kidnapping.”
“Interesting,” Karrde murmured, his eyes defocusing slightly. “Leia Organa Solo. Who is in training to be a Jedi like her brother. That could explain … certain recent Imperial actions.”
Luke waited, but after a moment it became clear that Karrde wasn’t going to elaborate. “You spoke of a compromise,” he reminded the other.
Karrde seemed to pull his thoughts back to the room. “Yes, I did,” he said. “It’s occurred to me that your privileged position in the New Republic might be what the Empire was interested in—that they wanted information on the inner workings of the Provisional Council. In such a case, we might have been able to work out a deal whereby you went free while your Artoo droid went to the Imperials for debriefing.”
Luke felt his stomach tighten. “It wouldn’t do them any good,” he said as casually as he could manage. The thought of Artoo being sold into Imperial slavery … “Artoo has never been to any of the Council meetings.”
“But he does have a great deal of knowledge of you personally,” Karrde pointed out. “As well as of your sister, her husband, and various other highly placed members of the New Republic.” He shrugged. “It’s a moot question now, of course. The fact that the focus is exclusively on the New Republic’s Jedi and potential Jedi means they’re not simply after information. Where did these two attacks take place?”
“The first was on Bimmisaari, the second on Bpfassh.”
Karrde nodded. “We’ve got a contact on Bpfassh; perhaps we can get him to do some backtracking on the Imperials. Until then, I’m afraid you’ll have to remain here as our guest.”
It sounded like a dismissal. “Let me just point out one other thing before I go,” Luke said. “No matter what happens to me—or what happens to Leia, for that matter—the Empire is still doomed. There are more planets in the New Republic now than there are under Imperial rule, and that number increases daily. We’ll win eventually, if only by sheer weight of numbers.”
“I understand that was the Emperor’s own argument when discussing your Rebellion,” Karrde countered dryly. “Still, that is the crux of the dilemma, isn’t it? While the Empire will wreak swift retribution on me if I don’t give you over to them, the New Republic looks more likely to win out in the long run.”
“Only if he and his sister are there to hold Mon Mothma’s hand,” Mara put in contemptuously. “If they aren’t—”
“If they aren’t, the final time frame is somewhat less clear,” Karrde agreed. “At any rate, I thank you for your time, Skywalker. I hope we can come to a decision without too much of a delay.”
“Don’t hurry on my account,” Luke told him. “This seems a pleasant enough world to spend a few days on.”
“Don’t believe it for a moment,” Karrde warned. “My two pet vornskrs have a large number of relatives out in the forest. Relatives who haven’t had the benefits of modern domestication.”
“I understand,” Luke said. On the other hand, if he could get out of Karrde’s encampment and clear of whatever this strange interference was they were using on him …
“And don’t count on your Jedi skills to protect you, either,” Karrde added, almost lazily. “You’ll be just as helpless in the forest. Probably more so.” He looked up at the tree towering above him. “There are, after all, considerably more ysalamiri out there than there are here.”
“Ysalamiri?” Luke followed his gesture … and for the first time noticed the slender, gray-brown creature hanging on to the tree limb directly over Karrde’s head. “What is it?”
“The reason you’re staying where we put you,” Karrde said. “They seem to have the unusual ability to push back the Force—to create bubbles, so to speak, where the Force simply doesn’t exist.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Luke said, wondering if there was any truth at all to the story. Certainly neither Yoda nor Ben had ever mentioned the possibility of such a thing.
“Not very many have,” Karrde agreed. “And in the past, most of those who did had a vested interest in keeping it that way. The Jedi of the Old Republic avoided the planet, for obvious reasons, which was why a fair number of smuggling groups back then had their bases here. After the Emperor destroyed the Jedi, most of the groups pulled up roots and left, preferring to be closer to their potential markets. Now that the Jedi are rising again”—he nodded gravely to Luke—“perhaps some of them will return. Though I daresay the general populace would probably not appreciate that.”
Luke glanced around the tree. Now that he knew what to look for, he could see several other ysalamiri wrapped around and across various of the limbs and branches. “What makes you think it’s the ysalamiri and not something else that’s responsible for this bubbling in the Force?”
“Partly local legend,” Karrde said. “Mainly, the fact that you’re standing here talking with me. How else could a man with a stu
n weapon and an extremely nervous mind have walked right up behind a Jedi without being noticed?”
Luke looked at him sharply, the last piece falling into place. “You had ysalamiri aboard the Wild Karrde.”
“Correct,” Karrde said. “Purely by chance, actually. Well—” He looked up at Mara. “Perhaps not entirely by chance.”
Luke glanced again at the ysalamiri above Karrde’s head. “How far does this bubbling extend?”
“Actually, I’m not sure anyone knows,” Karrde conceded. “Legend says that individual ysalamiri have bubbles from one to ten meters in radius, but that groups of them together have considerably larger ones. Some sort of reinforcement, I gather. Perhaps you’ll do us the courtesy of participating in a few experiments regarding them before you leave.”5
“Perhaps,” Luke said. “Though that probably depends on which direction I’m headed at the time.”
“It probably will,” Karrde agreed. “Well. I imagine you’d like to get cleaned up—you’ve been living in that flight suit for several days now. Did you bring any changes of clothing with you?”
“There’s a small case in the cargo compartment of my X-wing,” Luke told him. “Thank you for bringing it along, incidentally.”
“I try never to waste anything that may someday prove useful,” Karrde said. “I’ll have your things sent over as soon as my associates have determined that there are no hidden weapons or other equipment among them.” He smiled slightly. “I doubt that a Jedi would bother with such things, but I believe in being thorough. Good evening, Skywalker.”
Mara had her tiny blaster in hand again. “Let’s go,” she said, gesturing with the weapon.
Luke stood up. “Let me offer you one other option,” he said to Karrde. “If you decide you’d rather pretend none of this ever happened, you could just return Artoo and me to where you found us. I’d be willing to take my chances with the other searchers.”
“Including the Imperials?” Karrde asked.
“Including the Imperials.” Luke nodded.
A small smile touched Karrde’s lips. “You might be surprised. But I’ll keep the option in mind.”
The sun had disappeared behind the trees and the sky was noticeably darker as Mara escorted him back across the compound. “Did I miss dinner?” he asked as they walked down the corridor toward his room.
“Something can be brought to you,” Mara said, her voice little more than a thinly veiled snarl.
“Thank you.” Luke took a careful breath. “I don’t know why you dislike me so much—”
“Shut up,” she cut him off. “Just shut up.”
Grimacing, Luke did so. They reached his room and she nudged him inside. “We don’t have any lock for the window,” she said, “but there’s an alarm on it. You try going out, and it’ll be a toss-up as to whether the vornskrs get to you before I do.” She smiled, mock-sweetly. “But don’t take my word for it. Try it and find out.”
Luke looked at the window, then back at Mara. “I’ll pass, thanks.”
Without another word she left the room, closing the door behind her. There was the click of an electronic lock being engaged, and then silence.
He went to the window, peered out. There were lights showing in some of the other barracks windows, though he hadn’t noticed any other lights in his own building. Which made sense, he supposed. Whether Karrde decided to turn him over to the Empire or release him back to the New Republic, there was no point in more of his associates knowing about it than absolutely necessary.
All the more so if Karrde decided to take Mara’s advice and just kill him.
He turned away from the window and went back to his bed, fighting back the fear trying to rise inside him. Never since facing the Emperor had he felt so helpless.
Or, for that matter, actually been so helpless.
He took a deep breath. For the Jedi, there is no emotion; there is peace. Somehow, he knew, there had to be a way out of this prison.
All he had to do was to stay alive long enough to find it.
C H A P T E R 20
“No, I assure you, everything is fine,” Threepio said in Leia’s voice, looking just about as unhappy beneath his headset as a droid could possibly look. “Han and I decided that as long as we were out this way we might as well take a look around the Abregado system.”
“I understand, Your Highness,” Winter’s voice came back over the Falcon’s speaker. To Han, she sounded tired. Tired, and more than a little tense. “May I recommend, though, that you don’t stay away too much longer.”
Threepio looked helplessly at Han. “We’ll be back soon,” Han muttered into his comlink.
“We’ll be back soon,” Threepio echoed into the Falcon’s mike.
“I just want to check out—”
“I just want to check out—”
“—the Gados’s—”
“—the Gados’s—”
“—manufacturing infrastructure.”
“—manufacturing infrastructure.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Winter said. “I’ll pass that information on to the Council. I’m sure they’ll be pleased to hear it.” She paused, just noticeably. “I wonder if I might be permitted to speak with Captain Solo for a moment.”
Across the cockpit, Lando grimaced. She knows, he mouthed silently.
No kidding, Han mouthed back. He caught Threepio’s eye and nodded. “Of course,” the droid said, sagging with obvious relief. “Han—?”
Han switched his comlink over. “I’m here, Winter. What’s up?”
“I wanted to know if you had any idea yet when you and Princess Leia would be returning,” she said. “Admiral Ackbar, particularly, has been asking about you.”
Han frowned at the comlink. Ackbar probably hadn’t spoken two words to him outside of official business since he’d resigned his general’s commission a few months back. “You’ll have to thank the Admiral for his interest,” he told Winter, picking his words carefully. “I trust he’s doing all right himself?”
“About as usual,” Winter said. “He’s having some problems with his family, though, now that school is in full swing.”
“A little squabbling among the children?” Han suggested.
“Bedtime arguments, mainly,” she said. “Problems with the little one over who’s going to get to stay up and read—that sort of thing. You understand.”
“Yeah,” Han said. “I know the kids pretty well. How about the neighbors? He still having trouble with them?”
There was a brief pause. “I’m … not exactly sure,” she said. “He hasn’t mentioned anything about them to me. I can ask, if you’d like.”
“It’s no big deal,” Han said. “As long as the family’s doing okay—that’s the important thing.”
“I agree. At any rate, I think he mainly just wanted to be remembered to you.”
“Thanks for passing on the message.” He threw Lando a look. “Go ahead and tell him that we won’t be out here too much longer. We’ll go to Abregado and maybe look in on a couple of others and then head back.”
“All right,” Winter said. “Anything else?”
“No—yes,” Han corrected himself. “What’s the latest on the Bpfasshi recovery program?”
“Those three systems the Imperials hit?”
“Right.” And where he and Leia had had their second brush with those gray-skinned alien kidnappers; but there was no point in dwelling on that.
“Let me call up the proper file,” Winter said. “… It’s coming along reasonably well. There were some problems with supply shipments, but the material seems to be moving well enough now.”
Han frowned at the speaker. “What did Ackbar do, dig up some mothballed container ships from somewhere?”
“Actually, he made his own,” Winter came back dryly. “He’s taken some capital ships—Star Cruisers and Attack Frigates, mostly—cut the crews back to skeleton size and put in extra droids, and turned them into cargo ships.”
Han gr
imaced. “I hope he’s got some good escorts along with them. Empty Star Cruisers would make great target practice for the Imperials.”
“I’m sure he’s thought of that,” Winter assured him. “And the orbit dock and shipyards at Sluis Van are very well defended.”
“I’m not sure anything’s really well defended these days,” Han returned sourly. “Not with the Imperials running loose like they are. Anyway. Got to go; talk to you later.”
“Enjoy your trip. Your Highness? Good-bye.”
Lando snapped his fingers at Threepio. “Good-bye, Winter,” the droid said.
Han made a slashing motion across his throat, and Lando shut off the transmitter. “If those Star Cruisers had been built with proper slave circuits, they wouldn’t have to load them with droids to make container ships out of them,” he pointed out innocently.
“Yeah.” Han nodded, his mind just barely registering Lando’s words. “Come on—we’ve got to cut this short and get back.” He climbed out of the cockpit seat and checked his blaster. “Something’s about to burn through on Coruscant.”
“You mean all that stuff about Ackbar’s family?” Lando asked, standing up.
“Right,” Han said, heading back toward the Falcon’s hatchway. “If I’m reading Winter right, it sounds like Fey’lya has started a major push toward Ackbar’s territory. Come on, Threepio—you need to lock up behind us.”
“Captain Solo, I must once again protest this whole arrangement,” the droid said plaintively, scuttling up behind Han. “I really feel that to impersonate Princess Leia—”
“All right, all right,” Han cut him off. “As soon as we get back, I’ll have Lando undo the programming.”
“It’s over already?” Lando asked, pushing past Threepio to join Han at the lock. “I thought you told Winter—”
“That was for the benefit of anyone tapping in,” Han said. “As soon as we’ve worked through this contact, we’re going to head back. Maybe even stop by Kashyyyk on the way and pick up Leia.”
Lando whistled softly. “That bad, huh?”