by Timothy Zahn
LaRone’s call wasn’t unexpected.
LaRone’s news definitely was.
“I can’t believe it,” Luke said, his stomach churning, his mind trying to wrap itself around the very thought of Axlon’s betrayal. “He was involved with kidnapping and murder?”
“Up to his eyebrows,” LaRone said, his voice grim. “For whatever it’s worth, I think he was mostly duped into it by this Nuso Esva character—the guy found Axlon’s Alderaan button and leaned on it.” He hesitated. “Also for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Luke took a deep breath, trying to stretch out to the Force for calm. For once, it didn’t work very well. “So what do we do? What do I do?”
“Depends on what you want to do,” LaRone said. “You can go back to your Rebel friends, tell them what happened, and be done with the whole thing.”
“Or?”
“Or you can stick around awhile and try to help us find Governor Ferrouz’s wife and daughter.”
Luke grimaced. The deal with Ferrouz had been a complete and utter fraud, Nuso Esva was apparently preparing some kind of battle, and Cracken was so entangled with the supply operation on Poln Minor that he might be days extricating himself and his team.
And on top of that, Han and Leia were still missing. This quiet little mission was rapidly falling apart. “Tell me again what Axlon said about Han.”
“Just that he was helping mount missiles for Nuso Esva’s people,” LaRone said. “Does that sound like something Solo would know how to do?”
“I’m still amazed at all the stuff Han knows,” Luke said. “No idea where this was happening?”
“Just somewhere on Poln Minor, which I gather you already knew,” LaRone said. “But Axlon also said Nuso Esva was going to be giving the ships to the Alliance, so it’s possible your leaders already know about this.”
“If they do, they haven’t mentioned it to me,” Luke said. “I don’t think I believe it.”
“Oh, I’m sure I don’t believe it,” LaRone growled. “So far everything I’ve seen of Nuso Esva pegs him as a fraud and a swindler. Or worse. What does your side know about him?”
“Not much,” Luke said. “Axlon was the one who brought his name up to the leadership, and given what we now know about Axlon I don’t trust anything he said. You have any idea where to start looking for the governor’s family?”
“Not a clue,” LaRone admitted. “At this point our best bet is to try to find Major Pakrie and see if we can beat it out of him. But I doubt he’s just sitting around waiting for us to swoop down on him.”
“How about if we found someone else who’s involved?” Luke suggested. “Like the one Axlon was talking to earlier. Stelikag, you said his name was?”
“That might do,” LaRone agreed. “Problem is, he’s probably gone to ground, too.”
Luke smiled tightly, raising Brightwater’s electromonocular to his eye and focusing the ranging cross-mark on the distant tapcaf window and the man with the scraggly mustache seated behind it. “Not necessarily,” he told LaRone. “He’s sitting in a tapcaf exactly one hundred thirty-eight meters from me.”
“You’re kidding,” LaRone said, sounding as surprised as Luke had ever heard him. “That’s great. Tell me where—one of us will come take over.”
Luke hesitated, a nagging sensation tugging at him as he gazed at Stelikag. It certainly made sense for LaRone and the other stormtroopers to take over at this point. They were trained at this sort of thing, and Luke wasn’t. More to the point, Governor Ferrouz was an Imperial. That meant this was their business, not his.
But he was feeling a subtle but definite tugging of the Force in the other direction. Logical or not, smart or not, his business or not, this was where he was supposed to be. This was what he was supposed to be doing. “How about instead you concentrate on finding Major Pakrie?” he suggested. “I’ll keep an eye on Stelikag. That’ll give us two chances for a lead instead of just one.”
“You sure?” LaRone asked. “This isn’t really your area of expertise. It’s also not your fight.”
“There are innocent people in danger,” Luke reminded him. “There’s also some sort of unknown threat heading this way. You may be right about the expertise part, but this is definitely my fight.”
“Well, I’m not in any position to turn down free help,” LaRone said. “Fine—you watch Stelikag. If he makes any comlink calls or leaves the tapcaf, let us know.”
“I will,” Luke promised. “Listen, I need to let my commander know what’s happened. Is there any way to unlock this comlink?”
“Not that one, no,” LaRone said. “But don’t worry—I’ll call someone in your group and give them an update.”
Luke felt his eyes widen. “You’ll call them?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t spook them,” LaRone assured him. “Axlon’s comlink should have the contact information I need. You just keep an eye on Stelikag. And don’t let him spot you.”
“No problem,” Luke said. “Good luck.”
He clicked off, a flicker of uneasiness running through him. He hadn’t thought about Axlon’s comlink, or his datapad, or any of the other things he might be carrying that might compromise some aspect of Alliance security.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. It would be all right. LaRone and his friends might be serving the Empire right now, but they would never again be true Imperials.
Across at the tapcaf, the server brought Stelikag and his friends a large plate of something steaming. Pulling out one of Brightwater’s ration bars, Luke settled down to watch.
“We’re going to contact the Rebels?” Marcross asked, looking stunned as LaRone put away his comlink. “Are you insane?”
“I don’t see that we have a choice,” LaRone said, heading over toward where they’d dumped Axlon’s body. “Skywalker’s right—they need to know about Nuso Esva’s manipulation, and we’re the only ones who can tell them. Brightwater, how’s Grave doing?”
“Not good,” Brightwater said grimly. “We’re never going to be able to move him. Even if we got a doctor in here first to stabilize him, a landspeeder ride might kill him before we could even get him to a bacta tank.”
“Understood,” LaRone said, running through Axlon’s clothing and relieving him of his comlink and data pad. “I think I may have an alternative.”
“We also have another problem,” Marcross said. “We’re down to three of us, and this place is not exactly the most defensible position I’ve ever seen.”
“Three and a half,” Quiller put in. “I may not be mobile, but I can still shoot.”
“My recommendation is that we pull the governor out,” Marcross continued. “Get him settled somewhere safe, then worry about getting Grave some help.”
“No,” Ferrouz said.
They all turned to look at him. “No?” Marcross asked.
“We don’t leave here,” the governor said firmly. “Splitting a force this small is a bad idea, especially when one of you is badly injured.” He waved a hand around the room. “Besides, until we know the full extent of the treason inside my palace, there’s nowhere we could go that would be safer than right here.”
“What about your safe room?” Quiller suggested. “It’s just a little way back along the tunnel.”
Ferrouz shook his head. “They somehow got my wife and daughter out of a heavily guarded Imperial facility. I don’t trust anyplace connected with that facility, not even my safe room. No. Whatever stand we make, we make it here.”
“We appreciate your confidence,” Marcross said. “But the fact of the matter is that successfully holding any location boils down to numbers. We simply don’t have them.”
“No, we don’t,” LaRone agreed, an odd thought suddenly occurring to him. “Brightwater, you up to taking a little drive?”
“Sure,” Brightwater said, frowning as he got to his feet. “Where am I going?”
“Back to the spaceport,” LaRone told him. “If we can’t get Grave
to a bacta tank, maybe we can get a bacta tank to him.”
“You mean ours, out of the Suwantek?” Marcross asked. “Come on—even a subminiature is way too heavy for Brightwater to handle on his own.”
“I know,” LaRone said. “And as long as he’s going to be out there anyway, maybe we can get some of those extra numbers we need.”
“You’re going to call in the Rebels?” Ferrouz asked, his tone and face unreadable.
“Yes,” LaRone said. “And, actually, no.”
THIS TIME MARA WENT ALL THE WAY DOWN THE ESCAPE TUNNEL, PAST the hidden safe room, past the spot where she’d taken Ferrouz out into the city’s storm drain, and past two more places where the permacrete structure around her again changed for the worse. Eventually, she reached the end.
Which was exactly that: the end. There was nothing there but a crumbling wall that blocked further progress. There was no hangar, no sign of an airspeeder, no sign that an airspeeder had ever been there, no access to the outer world.
She took a couple of minutes to check the walls and ceiling anyway, just to be sure. Then she pulled out her comlink and called LaRone.
“You all right?” he asked when she’d identified herself.
“Yes, but no farther along than we were when I left,” she told him. “How’s the governor?”
“He’s doing better,” LaRone said grimly. “Right now, he’s the exception.”
In a few terse sentences, he laid out the story of Axlon’s betrayal, his attack on Grave and Quiller, and his death. “I hate it when I leave a party early,” Mara growled when he’d finished. “What do you need me to do?”
There was a faint voice from somewhere on the other end. “Governor Ferrouz says what you can do is find his family,” LaRone relayed. “I agree. We can handle things here for the moment.”
“You said Grave was badly injured.”
“We’ve got a bacta tank coming,” LaRone said. “I have someone pulling the one out of the Suwantek and bringing it over in our other landspeeder.”
Mara frowned. “Someone?”
“It’s covered,” LaRone said firmly, in the tone of someone who didn’t want to talk about it. “What do you think about Axlon’s comment that it would be over in an hour or less? Does that mean the hostages are somewhere nearby?”
“Not necessarily,” Mara said, mentally sifting through the possibilities. If the kidnappers hadn’t gotten out through the escape tunnel … “It could be that he was just going to call them and tell them to close up shop.”
“Wouldn’t that be risky?” LaRone asked. “Even our Suwantek has gear that can track a comlink call if you know which one’s being used. I imagine a more complete ISB or Intelligence setup could also decrypt the conversation in more or less real time.”
“Not always,” Mara said, frowning with a sudden thought. Maybe the kidnappers had gotten into the tunnel but never left it. “But you’re right, it would be dangerous for them. Put Ferrouz on, will you?”
There was a brief pause, then: “You have something?” Ferrouz asked.
“Maybe,” Mara said. “What do you know about your emergency safe room?”
“It was built by one of my predecessors—Moff Frisan, I think it was. I’ve only been inside twice. It’s much larger than I expected: six rooms, laid out along the same lines as the palace residence suite, only with a food prep area and considerably more storage.”
“How do you get in?” Mara asked. “Biometrics, or is there a keypad code?”
“Keypad code, plus a voiceprint verbal code,” Ferrouz said. “A precise code, with specific intonations and inflections on the words.”
Mara keyed her comlink to record mode. “Give it to me.”
It was short, only half a dozen words. “Keypad code?” she asked, shutting down the recording.
The numerical sequence was also short, only nine digits long. Whoever had set up the system had clearly chosen to sacrifice extra security for speed of access. “Who besides you has the code and an on-file voiceprint?”
“Just my wife, daughter, General Ularno, and Colonel Bonze,” Ferrouz said, his voice gone dark. “You think they’re in there?”
“It makes a certain amount of sense,” Mara said. “They didn’t leave by airspeeder, the exit tunnel dead-ends, and getting out through the gate would have required a lot of bribery or coercion.”
“But how would they have gotten into the room?”
“That’s the beauty of having two hostages,” Mara said. “You can threaten one to make the other do what you want. I’m guessing a blaster to your wife’s head would have quickly gotten the code out of your daughter.”
Ferrouz swore, quietly and feelingly. “I want these people, Agent Jade.”
“I fully intend to get them, Governor Ferrouz,” Mara told him. “You just rest and recover. I’ll let you know when I find something.”
“All right. Just a moment—LaRone wants to speak with you again.”
There was another pause, a longer one this time, with the sort of background noise that gave Mara the sense that LaRone was moving somewhere else with the comlink. “There was one more thing,” his voice came on quietly. “I don’t know if the governor caught the significance, and I don’t want to worry him any more than he already is. But Axlon also said something about Nuso Esva’s people mounting Caldorfs. Is there any other use of that term you know of other than ship-based interceptor missiles?”
Mara felt her stomach tighten. Nuso Esva had a supply of Caldorfs? “No, they’re interceptors, all right,” she said grimly. “Did he say where they were, or what they were doing with them?”
“Just that they were mounting them,” LaRone said. “But there are other indications that say it’s happening on Poln Minor.”
“Big help,” Mara growled.
“I know,” LaRone said. “I may be able to get it pinned down a little more.”
“Do that,” Mara said. “Meanwhile, keep a close eye on the governor.”
“We will,” LaRone promised. “One other thing. We have someone with eyes on one of Axlon’s associates, a man he called Stelig. He’s going to let us know if Stelig makes any moves, so if you plan to stir things up a heads-up would be appreciated.”
“If I have any advance notice myself, I’ll be sure to let you know,” Mara assured him. “Is this watcher someone you trust?”
“Yes,” LaRone said. “We’ve dealt with Skywalker before.”
Mara frowned at her comlink, a months-old memory flashing to mind: Lord Vader in the Emperor’s library, doing a private search that Mara had subsequently been able to reconstruct.
A search for the name Luke Skywalker.
Firmly, she shook away the sudden odd sense of foreboding. Skywalker was a common enough name, especially in the Mid and Outer Rim areas of the Corellian Run. The odds were slim that this particular Skywalker was the one Vader was hunting.
Still, it was an interesting coincidence. “Tell him to stay sharp,” Mara said. “From here on, things are likely to move fast. There’s no guarantee of advance warning.”
“I’ll make sure he knows that,” LaRone promised. “Good luck.”
“And stay sharp yourselves,” Mara added. “I’ll let you know when I find something.”
Keying off the comlink, she started back up the tunnel. No, LaRone and Skywalker weren’t likely to get any advance warning.
With a little luck, neither would the kidnappers.
Han was halfway through his third missile mounting when Leia suddenly stiffened. “Ranquiv’s heading this way,” she murmured. “He’s got two armed men with him.”
“Hand me the big hydrospanner,” Han murmured back, focusing on the missile’s shiny surface. There were three figures coming up behind him, all right, though the reflections in the curved metal were too distorted for him to see any details. “On a scale of one to ten, how unhappy do they look?”
“Very,” Leia said grimly as she handed him the hydrospanner. “There are two more men and
two more of Ranquiv’s yellow-eyed friends coming in about ten meters behind them.”
“Yeah, I see them,” Han said. Still, he’d known from the beginning that they were running on borrowed time. “Get ready to move.”
“Where?”
Han did a quick assessment. Their current ship was obviously the closest, but getting to the ramp would mean heading toward the trouble currently marching in their direction. The next one over, the one behind Leia, would at least let them run away from Ranquiv’s thugs. “Up that ramp,” he said, nodding over her shoulder.
“Okay,” Leia said. “Let me know when.”
Han grimaced. “Trust me. You’ll know.”
He lifted the hydrospanner, making a show of adjusting it as he watched the approaching figures. The two men’s arms shifted subtly as they reached for their blasters.
Spinning around, Han hurled his hydrospanner toward the group and grabbed for his own blaster.
Reflexively, the two men ducked as Ranquiv snapped both forearms up between his face and the spinning hydrospanner. The men recovered their balance and reached again for their weapons.
And twitched their hands away as Han put a shot squarely into each of their holsters, blowing the blasters apart and sending bursts of Tibanna gas out into the air.
“Go!” Han snapped, waving behind him. The two backups were on the move now, breaking into a run as they pulled out their weapons. For an instant Han considered sending a couple more shots in their direction to try to slow them down, decided it wasn’t worth it, and turned and took off for the ship ramp he’d pointed out to Leia.
Fortunately, she hadn’t waited for his order to run. As he ducked under the missile he’d been working on he saw that she was already halfway up the ramp. He leaned into his run, and by the time the blaster bolts started flying around him he’d made it to the top of the ramp and through the hatch, throwing out his free hand in front of him as he slammed into the bulkhead on the far side of the narrow entryway.
He was spinning around to close the hatch when Leia, who’d been standing to the side out of his way, slammed it shut for him. “Now what?” she demanded, spinning the door’s old-fashioned locking wheel.