by Timothy Zahn
For a moment the hum and blaze of the lightsaber continued to fill Han’s ears and eyes. Then, to his relief, the kid finally closed it down. “I thought I was supposed to take care of the alarm and lock once you found the right junction,” he said, an edge of not-quite accusation in his voice.
“Sure, if you don’t mind everyone knowing someone with a lightsaber was messing around down here,” Han said.
“Maybe they’ll blame Vader.”
“Funny,” Han grunted. “A lot of people have seen you running around with that thing, you know. And not just Rebels. Anyway, it’s done—I hotwired around it.”
“Oh,” Luke said, and as Han’s eyes recovered from the lightsaber’s glare he saw an uncertain frown on the kid’s face. “So why am I here?”
“Maybe Leia didn’t think I should be out at night without supervision.” Han pulled out his comlink and flicked it on. “This is Solo,” he said, identifying himself. “You’re clear.”
“Right,” Princess Leia Organa’s voice came back, the word sharply clipped, her tone no-nonsense and business-like.
But Han could read beneath the tone. Whatever she said, whatever she did, she was crazy about him.
He was pretty sure, anyway.
“Now what?” Luke asked.
“We get out of here,” Han said, stuffing his tools back in their pouch and closing the junction box cover. “I just hope whatever they want in there is worth all this.”
“I hope so, too,” Luke said. “We really need a new base.”
Han frowned. “They’re looking for a new base?” He nodded upward toward the building above them. “In there?”
“Yes,” Luke said, sounding surprised. “Didn’t Leia tell you? It’s a mining clearinghouse, with records of all the major mining operations in this part of the Empire.”
“I know what it is,” Han said patiently. “I thought we were looking for some bulk cruisers or ore carriers we could grab.”
“That’s the cover, sure,” Luke said. “But that’s just to leave a false trail. The real plan is to download a bunch of locations where mining operations were started but abandoned. Leia thinks that—”
“Yeah, I know what she thinks,” Han growled, wiping irritably at the sweat on his forehead. “A place with no mining usually means there’s nothing else worth grabbing, either, which means no one wants the place.”
“That’s what she said,” Luke confirmed. “Sorry—I thought you knew.”
“I guess not.” Han jerked a thumb back along the crawl space. “Go on, get moving.”
The trek back down the crawl space was just as long, hot, and dirty as the inward trip had been. Finally, they reached the access point. “Too bad Chewie was too big to fit in the tunnel,” Luke commented, grunting as he pushed up the access cover and maneuvered it off the opening, letting in a rush of cool night air. “If he’d come with us instead of Leia—”
“Quiet,” Han interrupted, pushing up beside him and listening hard. Somewhere in the near distance he could hear the whine of an approaching landspeeder. “Out of the way—out of the way.”
“What is it?” Luke asked, pressing himself against the side of the tunnel to let Han past.
“Security patrol,” Han said, easing his head up out of the opening. The narrow alleyway they were in was about two hundred meters long, squeezed in between two windowless walls and lit by half a dozen pole-mounted glow panels spaced along the sides of the buildings. The distant whine was getting louder, which meant the security patrol was getting closer.
The crucial question was, was it heading toward the building Leia and the others should be leaving right about now? Or was it headed away from them?
There was no way to know. But this was no time for taking chances. “Give me your lightsaber,” he said, pulling himself out through the opening.
“What?” Luke said. “But—”
“Give it to me and then get out of there,” Han snapped. “We need to make a distraction.”
Reluctantly, Luke unclipped the lightsaber and held it up. Han snatched it out of his hand and ran to the nearest of the light poles, peering at the lightsaber’s grip. If he remembered right, the activation switch was right there …
With its usual snap-hiss, the blue-white blade appeared. Gripping the weapon with both hands, making sure to keep the blade pointed away from him, Han braked to a halt by the pole. If this was a standard design, the power conduit should run right up through the center. Setting the tip of the blade against the housing, he gave it a firm push.
And with a small flash of yellow-white, the glow panel above him went dark.
“What are you doing?” Luke gasped.
“Getting their attention,” Han told him, glancing back over his shoulder. The landspeeder still wasn’t visible, but it was getting louder. “Come on,” he added, heading away from the sound at a quick jog.
“First close that down and give it back to me,” Luke said, running beside him at a cautious distance. “You’re going to get one of us killed.”
“I got it under control,” Han assured him.
“Now,” Luke said firmly, starting to reach out a hand and then apparently thinking better of it. “Come on.”
Han rolled his eyes and shut off the weapon. “Fine—you do the next one.”
“Okay,” Luke said taking the lightsaber and sprinting toward the next light post.
He had reached it, and had just ignited the weapon when the security landspeeder swung into view at the other end of the alleyway. “Han!” Luke bit out.
“Yeah, I see them,” Han growled, snatching out his blaster. “Get that light out.”
His answer was another brief sizzle as the glow panel overhead went dark. The landspeeder had meanwhile turned into the alleyway, and in the glow of the remaining light panels Han could see there were four men in the vehicle. Lifting his blaster, he carefully lined up the muzzle on the landspeeder’s front left edge and fired.
With a gratifying crackle of metal and plasteel, the landspeeder dropped onto its side. There was a brief earsplitting screech as the vehicle’s edge scraped against the permacrete, and then all four passengers were dumped out as the landspeeder made a hard left and slammed nose-first into the building on that side.
“Go!” Han ordered Luke, turning and sprinting toward the other end of the alleyway. If they could get out before the men back there pulled themselves together and called it in, they should be able to get back to Leia and the airspeeder before reinforcements arrived.
They’d made it halfway to the far end of the alleyway when another landspeeder blew into sight directly ahead of them. It wobbled slightly and then braked to a halt across the opening, blocking their escape.
“Han?” Luke called.
“Yeah, yeah,” Han said, skidding to a halt and wondering what they were going to do this time. Hitting the forward power coupler like he had with the other landspeeder wouldn’t do any good now that the thing was already stopped and its occupants were climbing out. There was no cover anywhere nearby, and no way out.
Unless Luke could cut a new door for them with his lightsaber. “Luke—”
“No, behind us,” Luke cut in.
Han twisted around. Their airspeeder had appeared behind them, burning through the alley with its stabilizer wingtips running bare centimeters from the walls. Hanging half out one of the side doors, his hairy arms stretched down toward them, was Chewie.
“Get ready, kid,” Han said. Spinning back around toward the security men forming up behind their landspeeder, he fired off a few shots to keep them occupied and then stuck his left arm straight up into the air. This was probably going to hurt.
An instant later Chewie’s hand closed around his forearm and yanked him straight up off the permacrete.
There was a muffled yelp from Luke as he was similarly grabbed. Clenching his teeth, squinting his eyes against the sudden windstorm in his face, Han fired off a couple more wild shots at the security guards. The airspeeder swun
g over the guards and the landspeeder and Han felt himself swing to the side as the pilot made a sharp left around the side of the building. Fumbling his blaster back into its holster, he squeezed his eyes shut, wondering if Leia was going to make them ride like this all the way back to the rendezvous point.
Then, abruptly, his body swung forward as the pilot slowed, his stomach lurching as they dropped back to the ground. His feet touched permacrete—
“Get in!” Leia snapped as Chewie let go of his arm.
Ten seconds later they were back in the air, now with Luke and Han safely inside. “What in space was that all about?” Leia demanded as Han rubbed his shoulder.
“I heard a security patrol,” Han told her. “I thought it’d be a good idea if they didn’t know about the evening’s company.”
“So naturally you start waving blasters around.” She transferred her glare to Luke. “And lightsabers.”
“You’re missing the point, sweetheart,” Han said calmly. “Okay, so they know we were in the alley. But thanks to us, they don’t know which building you were in.”
Leia opened her mouth … closed it again as she apparently got where he was going. Knowing which of the complex’s buildings the intruders had invaded would considerably narrow security’s search for what they’d been up to. “There are still only four buildings whose alarms you could shut off from that alleyway,” she said stubbornly.
“And they don’t know which of the four it was,” Han repeated patiently. “And they didn’t get to see which door you came out of, either.”
Leia’s face darkened. She’d lost this one, and she knew it. If security had spotted the team leaving, it would have not only told them which building to focus on, but also given them a clue as to which part of the building they’d been in. This way, they would have to search everything.
“That’s okay—you don’t have to thank me,” Han said into the stiff silence. “Luke and I are part of the team.”
He looked at Luke, but the kid was keeping exceptionally still and quiet. For that matter, so were all the others.
He looked back at Leia, to find that she’d turned away from him and was staring out the side window. And was also being still and quiet.
The trip back to the rendezvous point was a lot longer than the inward trip had been.
At least General Carlist Rieekan was happy. Not that Han would have cared much if he hadn’t been. “Excellent work, Princess,” the general said, nodding to her and sweeping his eyes approvingly around the rest of the group gathered at the table. “Well done, all of you. With Vader breathing down our necks, we desperately need to carve ourselves a little breathing space. Hopefully, one of the planets on this list will fit the bill.”
He picked up the handful of data cards, fingering them as if they were some kind of anti-Vader Jedi magic. “That’s all for now,” he said. “Your individual commanders will have your next assignments. Princess Leia, Skywalker, I’d like you to stay behind a moment. The rest of you, dismissed.”
There was a general scraping of chairs and feet as the team left the table and headed for the door. All, of course, except Leia and Luke.
And Han.
Leia seemed to be the first one besides Rieekan to notice that Han was making no move to leave. She gave him a puzzled look, then a frown, and finally a glare. It was on the glare that Luke also noticed Han’s lack of movement, though all he did was look puzzled. Chewie gave him one of those what-are-you-doing-now sort of looks, but left without saying anything.
Rieekan, predictably, didn’t react at all. He waited until everyone else had left before speaking. “Is there a problem, Solo?” he asked calmly.
“I’m here for the extra meeting,” Han told him, just as calmly. “I thought I was part of the team.”
Rieekan nodded. “And you are.”
“So let’s get on with it,” Han said, folding his arms across his chest.
For a moment Rieekan eyed him in silence. Then, gesturing Han toward a door at one side of the conference room, he stood up. “Will you two excuse me a moment?” he said. “Solo and I need a word in private.”
Han had been on the receiving end of enough reprimands during his time in the fleet to know that this one was likely to be a Class A windstorm. But to his surprise, Rieekan merely let the door slide shut behind them and raised his eyebrows. “All right,” he said. “Let’s hear it.”
A straight-up question, Han decided, deserved a straight-up answer. “I wasn’t told what the real mission tonight was,” he said. “I didn’t not understand. I was deliberately not told.”
“Would knowing we were looking for a new base have made a difference in how you handled your part of the job?”
“My part, probably not,” Han conceded. “But it could have made a big difference in Leia’s. I know something about mining operations, and there are a few tips I could have given her.”
“Such as?”
“Such as to stay clear of anything that smells of Hutt,” Han said. “And I don’t just mean places with Hutt in the name. There are at least fifteen different covers and shells they like to use.”
“That’s good to know,” Rieekan said, nodding. “Maybe you can help the analysts sift through the data once it’s been compiled.”
“That’s not the point,” Han growled. “If I’m going to be part of this Rebellion thing, I need to be kept up to speed with what’s going on.”
“You think that, do you?” Rieekan asked.
“We just agreed I’m part of the group,” Han countered. “What do I have to do? Become an officer?”
Rieekan looked him straight in the eye. “Basically, yes.”
Han stared at him. The question had been one-third rhetorical and two-thirds sarcastic. Rieekan’s response had been neither. “You’re kidding.”
“Not at all,” Rieekan said. “You were in the fleet—you know how this works. The upper ranks get the data and the authority to make decisions. The lower ranks get just enough of both to do their assigned tasks.”
“Fine,” Han growled. “So how do I get the big rank bars?”
“You know how that part works, too,” Rieekan said. “To be a leader you have to lead.”
Han snorted. “Now you’re flying in circles.”
“Not really,” Rieekan said. “Lower ranks get limited data and authority, like I said. But they also have limited responsibility. Leaders don’t have the luxury of passing the blame elsewhere.”
“I’ve led teams before,” Han reminded him. “That Shelkonwa thing, for one. Luke and Chewie and me did pretty good on that one.”
“And you’ve done well on teams with Princess Leia, too,” Rieekan agreed. “But all those people are friends, or at least associates. People you know and trust. They’re not a group of soldiers or pilots whose strengths and weaknesses you don’t know and can’t compensate for. Soldiers you have to order into a battle, knowing full well that some of them—maybe even most of them—are going to die.”
Han felt his stomach tighten. “Yeah. That’s the hard part, isn’t it?”
“It’s the worst part of all,” Rieekan agreed quietly. “There’s an old saying—I don’t know where it comes from. Jedi, probably. It goes like this: ‘The choices of one shape the futures of all.’ Ever heard that before?”
“Everyone’s got a version of that one,” Han said. “Doesn’t mean a lot.”
“My point is that true leaders are fully and constantly aware of that fact,” Rieekan said. “They understand the possible consequences of their decisions, and are willing to bear that weight.” He cocked an eyebrow. “The question is whether that’s a step you’re willing to take.”
“So you’re saying you want me to be an officer and a leader?” Han asked.
To his mild surprise, Rieekan not only didn’t take offense but even chuckled. “Point taken,” he conceded. “I’ve known a few officers who weren’t leaders. And some leaders who weren’t officers.”
For no particular reason Han�
��s mind flashed to those five rogue stormtroopers who’d helped him and Luke get Leia off Shelkonwa. The head of that group, LaRone, had definitely been one of those rankless leaders. “So what now?” he asked.
Rieekan shrugged. “You go off and think about it,” he said. “Because I want you to be very sure you’re ready before you make the commitment.”
Han nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Good,” Rieekan said. “In the meantime, it occurs to me that there may be a part you can play in the mission I was going to discuss with Princess Leia and Skywalker. You’re welcome to sit in and make comments and suggestions.” He gestured. “Shall we go?”
Luke and Leia were still sitting quietly when Han and Rieekan returned to the main conference room. A third person had also joined the group: a grim-faced man probably twenty years older than Rieekan, with the broad shoulders and chest of a former rink fighter and what looked like a permanent downturn to the corners of his mouth.
Who had, maybe not coincidentally, taken the chair Han had been sitting in earlier.
“Ah—Master Axlon.” Rieekan greeted the newcomer with a polite nod. “Thank you for joining us.”
“My apologies on my tardiness,” Axlon said, nodding in turn. “My meeting with Mon Mothma ran longer than anticipated.”
“That’s all right,” Rieekan assured him. “May I present Master Skywalker and Captain Solo. Princess Leia you already know, of course. This is Vestin Axlon, former governor of Logarra District on Alderaan.”
Han grimaced. An Alderaanian. No wonder the man had a permanent sour on. “Pleased to meet you, Governor,” he said.
“It’s Master Axlon now, Captain Solo,” Axlon corrected darkly, his mouth turning down a little more. “Alderaan. You did hear about Alderaan, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I heard about it,” Han said, annoyed despite himself. “Matter of fact, I was the first one on the scene after Tarkin hit the place.”
Leia stirred in her seat. “Han,” she murmured warningly.
“That’s all right, Your Highness,” Axlon said, a ghost of a smile briefly turning his mouth upward again. “Yes, I remember now where I heard your name, Captain. My apologies. We owe you a great debt.”