by Jude Watson
Copyright © 2005 Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or TM. All rights reserved.
Cover art by John Van Fleet
Cover design by Henry Ng
Published by Disney • Lucasfilm Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney • Lucasfilm Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California, 91201.
ISBN 978-1-4847-2012-7
Visit www.starwars.com
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
He was getting closer. Within minutes, he would spot them.
Obi-Wan Kenobi watched from the cockpit of a grounded, dilapidated cruiser as Boba Fett methodically searched the crowded Red Twins spaceport, looking for his prey. The Jedi saw Fett’s compact body move down the rows of space cruisers, his helmet turning as he and his surveillance devices took everything in.
Obi-Wan could see that Fett was moving in a pattern that only seemed random. The bounty hunter was cutting over after every third ship to the next line, then skipping a row, moving backward, then moving forward on alternate rows. It was a complex pattern to follow for an ordinary being, but not for an exceptional tracker like Boba Fett…or a Jedi like Obi-Wan. To an observer, Fett would seem to be ambling in a casual fashion, but within a few minutes he would have checked out every ship in the spaceport. Including the Jedi’s.
Obi-Wan saw his companion, Ferus Olin, watching Fett from the shadows of the cockpit.
“I give us three minutes,” Ferus said.
“Two and a half,” Obi-Wan amended.
Ferus and Obi-Wan had landed at the Red Twin spaceport just a few minutes before, along with their stowaway, thirteen-year-old Trever Flume. They had tangled with Boba Fett on the planet Bellassa, and were acutely aware of his skills. Plus, he had another bounty hunter with him—D’harhan, a cyborg with an unattractive but lethal laser cannon for a head. Imperial security forces, led by the Inquisitor Malorum, had hired the bounty hunters to catch Ferus, a hero of the resistance movement on Bellassa.
Even as Obi-Wan ticked off their possibilities for escape, he wanted to kick himself down the spaceport for being here in the first place. He had been on Tatooine when he had heard Ferus was in trouble—Tatooine, where he was supposed to stay and watch over the young Luke Skywalker. Obi-Wan had always liked the former Jedi apprentice, who had left the Order right before he was scheduled to take the Trials—in fact, he had been relieved that someone who had been so close to the Jedi was still alive. But was saving Ferus enough of a reason to risk leaving Tatooine? Obi-Wan had been racked with indecision…until he heard his former Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, who had at last spoken to him, thanks to Qui-Gon’s training with the Whills.
What a shock it had been to hear Qui-Gon’s voice, and how unsurprising it should have been that Qui-Gon had been the one to tell him to leave. Things much bigger than Ferus were at stake, and Qui-Gon told him he needed to follow the Living Force…and his feelings.
So he had followed them to Bellassa, had become tangled up with the resistance, and had barely escaped with Ferus. Now he was halfway across the galaxy from Tatooine, with two bounty hunters on his tail. Meanwhile, Inquisitor Malorum was getting closer to the truth of Luke and Leia’s existence, by investigating Polis Massa, the place where their mother, Padmé Amidala, had died. Obi-Wan knew he had to stop Malorum…but first he had to dodge the bounty hunters on his trail. Obi-Wan couldn’t return to Tatooine until he had shaken them off. He couldn’t lead anyone to the hidden son of Anakin Skywalker.
“Hey, fellas?” Trever spoke up. His spiky blue hair seemed to quiver with anxiety as he looked from Obi-Wan to Ferus. “Not to jump in here, but shouldn’t we be taking off in a hurry-up-and-blast-me-outta-here sort of way?”
“He’ll just follow us,” Ferus said. “And there’s no way we’ll shake him in this bucket. We need a different ship. This won’t end until we get one and get out of here.”
“Right, excellent,” Trever said. “Not a problem. Just give me a minute.”
“You can’t steal one,” Obi-Wan warned.
“Sure I can,” the young teenager said. “All I have to do is bypass the initial ignition security controls, then—”
Obi-Wan held up his hand. “Then we’ll have security to contend with as well as Boba Fett. We have to do this without causing any alarm.”
“There’s a new concept for you, kid,” Ferus said to Trever.
“I’ll try to keep up,” Trever replied with a grin. Despite his young age, he had been the most adept street thief in the capital city of Ussa on Bellassa. At only thirteen, he had controlled a large portion of the black market. When things got too hot for him, he had stowed away with Obi-Wan and Ferus as they’d made their escape.
But if things had been one-sun hot then, they were three-sun hot now.
Quickly, Obi-Wan, Ferus, and Trever gathered their survival packs and jumped off the ship. Obi-Wan made sure to cloak himself, his head unrecognizable under a hood. He did not want to be recognized by Boba Fett.
“We’ll have to try a trade. The trick is,” Obi-Wan said under his breath as he kept his eyes on the roving figure of Boba Fett, “to pick the right ship. And the right pilot. He’s got to think he’s getting a deal, but the deal can’t be too good or he’ll get suspicious.”
“I wonder where D’harhan is,” Ferus said.
“Probably stayed on the ship,” Obi-Wan guessed. “He’d attract the attention of security.”
They disembarked from their ship and threaded through the grumbling crowd. The new Empire regulations had made check-in slow, and departures were often held up while lengthy security checks were gone through. Pilots and passengers milled around, killing time until their numbers flashed on a huge screen overhead. At that point they joined the line to the security checkpoint inside the main building. Some of them had turned the area in front of the hangar into an informal picnic area, and the bartering of food and drink was going on in a lively exchange typical of pilots, as they variously insulted and flattered each other into trades.
Obi-Wan perused the ships. They needed something with a hyperdrive, something spaceworthy but not too flashy. They needed speed and some kind of weaponry. Knowing Boba Fett’s heavily armed Firespray attack ship, laser cannons would certainly come in handy.
In his head, Obi-Wan counted off the rows of ships and the complex pattern Fett was following. If they kept weaving in a counter-pattern, they wouldn’t run into him. Of course, he would find their ship very soon, and his surveillance would intensify. But if they were lucky, they’d blast off the spaceport by then.
If they were lucky.
Which they weren’t.
Boba Fett changed his pattern and spotted them from afar, attacking immediately from behind. The Force surged, warning Obi-Wan only a split second before the bounty hunter was on them.
Blaster bolts streaked toward them. Obi-Wan leaped and dodged. He didn’t want to use his lightsaber—not here, with a crowd looking on. News that a Jedi
had been seen would spread, and the hunt would intensify. As far as the galaxy was concerned, all the Jedi had been wiped out. Any Jedi who was found would quickly share the same fate.
Ferus’s Jedi training made him move quicker than an ordinary bystander, dodging almost in time with Obi-Wan. Trever’s street smarts sent him diving under the belly of a ship. A surprised pilot poked his head out of his cockpit dome a second after blaster bolts ripped into his hull. He started to swear at Boba Fett, but backed down when Fett swiveled and aimed his Westar-34 blaster in his direction.
The diversion gave Obi-Wan two seconds—two seconds that spun out into a long moment of contemplation, as he pinpointed the exact location of the ships surrounding him, the crowd, the buildings. He saw opportunity for temporary shelter but he did not see what he was looking for—an avenue of escape.
When in doubt, he thought, do the unexpected. Obi-Wan charged, his hood still concealing his identity. He lunged into the teeth of the blaster fire, weaponless. A surprised Boba Fett took a step back. He was too good to stumble, but for the smallest whisper of a second he was slightly off balance. Obi-Wan saw it. Fett’s left side was the vulnerable point.
He leaped. In midair, he twisted, coming down with one boot planted squarely on Boba Fett’s left knee. But to his surprise, Fett didn’t go over. Obi-Wan felt the bounty hunter’s body give, but suddenly Fett reversed direction, planting himself more firmly. Obi-Wan was stopped cold and had the unpleasant sensation of feeling an armored elbow smash into the back of his head, sending him to the ground.
He’d seen that move before. The memory of a desperate fight on Kamino came back to him. Jango Fett had taught his son well. If only Obi-Wan had remembered it in time.
Ferus came charging as Obi-Wan rolled to his feet, ducking blaster bolts with his Jedi reflexes. Suddenly, the ship next to them exploded. Obi-Wan and Ferus were sent flying by the power of the blast, riding a cushion of air that slammed them into the permacrete. Molten durasteel rained around them. Ferus ducked as a cockpit seat landed only millimeters from his head.
“Well, hello, D’harhan,” Ferus said through gritted teeth.
There was a moment of shocked silence after the blast, and then sirens began to sound. Pilots and passengers searched for a safe vantage point from which to watch the battle. It had been a boring afternoon, and no one minded a little diversion. It promised to be a good fight.
Ferus popped to his feet. His face was black with smoke and dust from the explosion. “Love the way those guys introduce themselves,” he said to Obi-Wan.
Boba Fett was taking advantage of the explosion to move in, his blaster bolts streaking through the air. Obi-Wan knew he had to get under cover, away from the spectators. Somewhere he could use his lightsaber without attracting attention.
“Go left,” he said tersely to Ferus. “Keep D’harhan occupied.”
“Why do I always get the mean guy?” Ferus replied, with more humor than Obi-Wan remembered him having as an apprentice.
Ferus seemed to float away, he moved so gracefully, sliding between two starships and disappearing. Obi-Wan used the Force to propel his jump, clearing the ship on his right and landing on the peaked durasteel roof of the hangar. There was a dormer midway down the roof, a window that was built into the roof itself. Obi-Wan dived for cover behind the overhang.
Fett was wearing a jetpack, and he soared above to land on the roof only seconds after Obi-Wan. He advanced cautiously, unable to see the Jedi. Obi-Wan activated his lightsaber. He did it so rarely now that he felt a surge of feelings flood him when he did, something close to pain and joy, a remembrance of what it had once meant to be a Jedi. Once he had traveled freely through the galaxy. Now he had to hide what he was. Now all he knew was secrecy and caution.
Blaster bolts suddenly ripped through the dormer, only centimeters from where he waited. Boba Fett was taking no chances.
Obi-Wan didn’t move, even though he felt the sear of heat on his cheek.
He heard the footsteps approaching. Just as they reached the corner of the dormer, just when there was only a split second before Fett would see him, Obi-Wan leaped out.
But Fett must have been expecting this. Taking barely a second to aim, he fired the concussion missile in his jetpack.
Obi-Wan felt the shock waves reverberate. He was blown off the roof, his body lifting into the air like a scrap of cloth. He slowed down the moment, looking for a way to land that wouldn’t involve smashing into the permacrete rising toward him.
He reached for the grapnel line on his utility belt. He sent it flying as he fell, the hook catching on the edge of the roof. He bounced in the air, hard, wrenching his shoulder as he quickly swung himself back up. He hit the roof and kept going, charging at Fett, his lightsaber glowing. He severed Fett’s blaster rifle in one clean stroke.
Obi-Wan had nowhere to go as Fett suddenly slammed into him, wrapping his arms around the Jedi’s body, knocking away his lightsaber, and propelling him backward, trying to push him off the roof. Instead of trying to break Fett’s grip, Obi-Wan seized his arms, and the two men shot off the edge, spinning in midair. The crowd below saw them now and gasped.
The two bodies fell through the air for several long seconds before Fett activated his jetpack. As he fired his thrusters, he maneuvered the jetpack so he could slam Obi-Wan against the side of the building repeatedly. Obi-Wan felt the blows shudder through his bones.
Fett reversed and came at the building again. Obi-Wan saw the solid duracrete zooming toward his face. He called on the Force to help. He would need it. At the last moment, he drew his legs up and kicked out. The jolt radiated up through his skull. They spun out, and Obi-Wan used the opportunity to loosen Fett’s hold. He dropped, gathering the Force to ease his landing and recapture his fallen lightsaber.
He didn’t injure himself, but the pain that traveled up his legs told him that his push off the wall had cost him. Spectators scattered as he rose to his feet. Boba Fett was coming after him, relentless.
Ferus ran through the crowd. Obi-Wan felt the Force surge in warning as another cannon blast from D’harhan leveled part of the hangar.
Ferus was blown back by the blast. D’harhan kept coming. Boba Fett was gathering himself for another assault. Obi-Wan charged forward, grabbed Ferus, and pulled him to his feet.
“Come on,” Obi-Wan urged. He hadn’t come this far to lose Ferus now.
He helped Ferus stumble past the rubble and leap into the half-demolished hangar. Massive doors were on the other end, firmly shut tight. D’harhan and Boba Fett followed through the opening, blocking any way out.
Obi-Wan and Ferus were trapped.
Fett and D’harhan didn’t give them a chance to form a strategy. The bounty hunters were all movement, D’harhan passing Fett a blaster so they could both fire at will. The air filled with debris and smoke.
“I wish I had a lightsaber,” Ferus muttered as he and Obi-Wan dived for cover behind a large ship awaiting repair. He had turned in his lightsaber when he’d left the Order. “Now would be an excellent time to draw yours, Obi-Wan.”
Still, Obi-Wan waited. He and Ferus settled back against a large repair console filled with tools. He saw the smoke curl from D’harhan’s head, and he knew the laser cannons had overheated. Boba Fett’s blaster fire couldn’t penetrate the ship. They were safe for the moment.
But only for the moment. Obi-Wan scanned the hangar. Despite D’harhan’s incredible firepower, he knew Fett was the greater threat. Of the two of them, Fett had the cunning.
Above, struts held the roof in place. A series of arcing flexible durasteel supports crisscrossed the high space. Half of the roof had been blasted off when Fett had fired the concussion missile.
The support arches would be an excellent place to stage a battle. Fett had his jetpack, but D’harhan would be at a disadvantage. He would have to remain on the ground.
Obi-Wan pointed with his chin. “Can you make it?” he asked Ferus, indicating the gridwork above.
Ferus grinned. “Can a bantha fly?”
“Actually, no.”
“You’re such a stickler for details, Obi-Wan.”
Suddenly, the Force surged, and Obi-Wan heard a slight whine. D’harhan had released another blast from his laser cannon. The cruiser under repair suffered a direct hit. Flames blew back toward Obi-Wan and Ferus, and they leaped to avoid them.
It was just what Boba Fett was waiting for. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber danced, deflecting the bounty hunter’s blaster fire as Obi-Wan leaped to safety on a strut high above. Ferus landed on a ship next to the now-destroyed cruiser, then used the momentum of his jump to make a second leap, calling on the Force this time. He sailed into the air, his fingertips grazing the lowermost beam. Obi-Wan saw panic in his eyes. He reached down and grabbed Ferus’s wrist, then hauled him up.
Boba Fett moved quickly, activating the propellants on his jetpack and zooming into the air, firing as he came. Deflecting the bolts, Obi-Wan took up the rear as he and Ferus raced to the roof opening.
Ferus had his own crude weaponry to employ. He reached into his pocket, then tossed something at Fett, a shining disk that spun in a clean line, straight toward him. Fett dodged, but the disk hit his armor near the shoulder, searing a crack into the surface. Obi-Wan realized that Ferus had filled his pockets with the round laser cutting blades that fit into a servocutter tool. He tossed another and another, and Fett had a hard time dodging them. With every burst from his jetpack, he zoomed perilously close to the beams.
Silently congratulating Ferus for his inventiveness, Obi-Wan reversed course and charged toward the careening Fett, swinging his lightsaber over his head as he ran. He pinpointed the bolts that held the sheets of durasteel in place for the roof, hitting each one with a quick, cutting touch in a careful pattern. Now all D’harhan had to do was cooperate.
The cyborg was nothing if not predictable. Obi-Wan saw his laser cannon revolve as it followed him. The red tracking light began to pulse.
Boba Fett instantly knew what was going to happen. Obi-Wan saw a new urgency in his attempts to dodge Ferus’s spinning laser cuttings as he dove down to stop D’harhan.