He threw a wink their way and headed off toward the starport, where his X-wing waited. On Anakin's suggestion - and Jaina's insistence, for Jacen did not want to go - the three siblings climbed to the highest floor of the tower and moved out onto the skywalk balcony under the night sky to watch the departure. Somehow they knew that Kyp Durron wouldn't disappoint.
It started as music, Dembaline's Shwock Dubllon , or Crested Wake , the Mon Calamari composer's most rousing tune, piped across the loudspeakers of all the starport pads. The opening peak of the piece faded to a mill of somewhat discordant notes, gradually, gradually coming together, gathering as Kyp's squadron gathered in the air above, craft of all types, mostly older models B-wings and A-wings, even a pair of Headhunters and a trio of older X-wings. A dozen starfighters wove red threads in the black sky with their plumes, a pilot's dance to the ever-building music.
Then the two XJ X-wings, Kyp and Miko, blasted through the montage, just as Crested Wake hit its roaring crescendo, and their dozen minions set off in rapid and disciplined order.
Jacen looked over at Anakin, who was clearly impressed, staring unblinking at the receding plumes. His little brother's thoughts were full of adventure and glory, Jacen knew, of hunting evil and furthering the cause of good.
Anakin didn't understand that things were rarely that black and white.
"Kyp's assembled quite a mix of fighters," Jaina remarked as the music died away. She looked at her brothers and shook her head. "He does know how to make an exit."
"And it's exactly hero shows like that which will confirm to Uncle Luke that he needs to reassemble the Jedi Council," Jacen replied.
"And a wise council will be pleased with shows just like that," Anakin put in.
"To show the galaxy the glory of the Jedi?" Jacen asked skeptically.
"To bring fear to those who would oppose the New Republic, and hope to those who want to live in peace under the rule of law," his brother answered.
"Enough!" Jaina pleaded with both of them.
And both heeded her request, and each shook his head and dutifully followed Jaina back into the tower, for neither was as certain of his viewpoint as he pretended.
"There they go," Leia remarked, as she and Han, Mara and Luke, Lando, Chewie, and the two droids watched Kyp's flashing departure from the balcony of Lando's private quarters.
"Count on Kyp to leave with style," Han said, and then, in a quieter voice, he added, "Probably still stinging from losing to Jaina."
"Took a Jedi to beat a Jedi," Lando observed, and he struck a pensive pose, staring at Luke. "I know another Jedi who's a pretty fair pilot," he said at length, slyly. At his words, the others also turned to regard Luke.
Luke smiled and shrugged. He wasn't about to compete with the Solo kids. And Lando's attempted baiting, trying to play Jedi against Jedi in competition, simply served to strengthen his resolve to reestablish the Jedi Council. A Jedi should be more interested in competing against himself, to Luke's thinking. He could forgive the Solo kids their excitement and desire to compete for a spot on the board. Kyp, though, with more than ten years behind him, should understand better.
"We've got a completely different chart for the two-seaters," Lando explained. "No Jedi on that board."
Luke looked to Mara doubtfully. He had no desire to run the belt - he needed no challenge to prove his skills, as pilot or Jedi. But he understood that Mara might be seeing things differently. Perhaps she needed personal reassurance that she could still perform optimally despite her physical condition. Perhaps a run through the belt would give her the confidence that her decision to continue to play a vital role in their affairs, particularly those of Jaina, was in no way compromising the safety of any of those she loved.
"Do you want to give it a run?" Luke asked her, and Lando leaned in eagerly for the reply.
"I already did," Mara answered quietly, so that only Luke could hear, and he sensed that she was truly at peace, that she had garnered all the confidence she needed through Jaina's magnificent trial.
Luke marveled at how well she had read him, at how she had known that he didn't have any pressing need to go, but that he would have gone, willingly, if she had so desired. He stared at Mara for a long time, admiring her.
He always seemed to be doing that.
"I think we'll pass up the offer," Mara told Lando.
Lando started to protest, to spout the possibilities that the two of them might score the highest ever, a record no other pair of pilots would come close to touching. But then he glanced Han and Leia's way and saw them shaking their heads, ever so slightly, a signal for him to back off, a reminder of Mara's condition.
"Well, if you ever change your mind ... ," he remarked with some regret.
It made sense to Luke when he considered it. Wouldn't Lando love to have the names Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker at the top of his dual-run board, as he now had the names of two Jedi Knights at the top of his single-run board! What fine advertising that would prove for the enterprising man, what notoriety for his reworked planet. And even more important, the gain in legitimacy for Lando's operation would be considerable indeed.
"What about you two?" Lando asked, turning to Han and Leia.
"I do enough steering through council meetings," Leia responded instantly, shaking her head, holding up her hand, and showing that she had no interest whatsoever in the challenge of the asteroid belt.
"Han and Chewie, then!" Lando said exuberantly. "They always bragged they were the best pilot pair in the galaxy. Let them prove it!"
"I'm too old and slow," Han replied, draping an arm across Leia's shoulders.
Chewie just gave a howl.
Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin entered the room.
"Did you see Kyp leave?" Anakin asked excitedly, moving quickly to Luke's side. "The music, the tight formation."
Luke nodded.
Jaina looked around curiously, focusing on Lando and her parents, then on Chewie, who seemed rather agitated, and then, finally, settling her gaze on her aunt.
"Lando wants Chewie and Han to take a run at the belt in a two-seater," Mara explained. "It sounds like a good idea to me."
Leia pulled away from her husband, who gave her one of his typical plaintive smirks. In truth, she wasn't crazy about the idea of Han running into a such a game - even if Lando had guaranteed that there would be minimal danger. Her protective instincts couldn't stand up against that smirk, though. Han obviously didn't want to go, or didn't care enough to bother, and she was unable to resist the urge to prod him. "Me, too," she agreed.
Chewie issued a series of howls this time, telling them that he was intrigued by the idea.
"That's a kid's game," Han replied with a snort. "I'm too old and too slow and too sore."
"And too pocket hare," Anakin was quick to add, drawing a laugh from everyone - except, of course, Han.
"Moss Deevers and Twingo hold the current lead," Lando said, referring to a couple of two-bit smugglers, known for carrying bigger payloads in their drinking glasses than in their holds. It was often said of Moss, a Bothan, and Twingo, his Sullustan sidekick, that if they carried one-hundredth the cargo they had boasted about, they would be the richest rogues in the galaxy, and if they had dodged, shot down, or otherwise evaded one-hundredth the number of Imperial ships they had claimed, the Emperor would have been without a fleet long before the Rebel Alliance defeated him.
The two braggarts weren't especially well liked among the below-the-law folk Han and Chewie used to call friends, and Han had never had any use for the pair, particularly for Moss.
What good fortune for Lando, then, that these two happened at that time to be the leaders on his dual-run Scoreboard.
"You won't even fit in a TIE bomber," Han remarked to the Wookiee. "Your legs'd stick out the bottom and we'd be kicking asteroids all over the place."
Chewie brought his fists up beside his head, mimicking the large ears of a Sullustan, and put a stupid look on his face. Then he roared emphatically,
reminding Han that Moss and Twingo would never let the two of them live down their cowardice. Both of the braggarts would use the news that Han and Chewie refused to try for the record as proof that the pair recognized and acknowledged Moss and Twinge's superior flying skills.
"Yeah, yeah," Han admitted. He looked around at the others, to see them all staring at him, all smiling. "What?" he asked innocently.
Those smiles were even wider when Lando's crew worked to squeeze Han and the giant Chewie into the twin shock couches of a TIE bomber. One unfortunate attendant twisted Chewie's leg the wrong way, and the Wookiee responded with a backhand slap - not a hard one, just enough to send the man tumbling a few meters. The crew finally managed to get the two into place; Chewie looked somewhat ridiculous, with his legs bent at such an angle that his knobby, hairy knees were nearly as high as his chin.
"Ready away?" came the call.
"How are we supposed to fly like this?" Han protested, looking doubtfully at Chewie.
The Wookiee howled.
"Well, you don't look fine!" Han retorted.
"It won't matter," Lando replied. "You won't get near to Moss and Twinge's mark of four forty-one anyway."
Chewie roared.
"Ready away!" Han cried.
"Always appeal to his pride," Lando whispered to Leia and the others with a wink, and as soon as Han and Chewie blasted out of the dock, they all headed back to the control room to watch the show. The three kids traded predictions on the way, agreeing that their father and Chewie would blast the previous record apart, but also coming to the conclusion that there was only so far the pair could go, for they weren't possessed of the needed sensitivity to the Force. In Jaina's eyes, they were practically flying blind, she explained, recounting the Force-given insight she had used to defeat the apparent wall of flying stone.
Both Jacen and Anakin, though they differed in their beliefs concerning priorities for the Force, agreed with Jaina's assessment.
Luke listened to it all with some amusement. None of them had come to truly understand the power and the limitations of the Force, and none of them, it seemed to him, truly understood the cleverness of their father. Luke would never underestimate the Force, but neither would he underestimate Han Solo.
Also, Luke knew that Han and Chewie had more than a little experience in navigating asteroid belts.
By the time the group arrived at the control room, the viewscreens wrapping all about them, Han and Chewie had put the TIE bomber through some practice maneuvers and were in position to enter the belt.
The controllers on Belt-Runner I called to the pair that their shields were up in full, and gave them the go-ahead.
"Great," Han responded dryly, drawing laughs from everyone in the control room.
The secondary, rectangular viewscreen zoomed in for a close-up of the TIE bomber as it slipped into the flow of the asteroid belt, a speck of light in the darkness, cruising effortlessly, it seemed, around the nearest obstacles, then navigating one cluster of spinning stones so seamlessly that it seemed like a ghost, ignoring the material.
"Beautiful," Jacen remarked.
Han wasn't exactly seeing things that way. In fact, from the moment he and Chewie had zipped into the asteroid belt, he had been letting out one long, terrified scream. What seemed from the ground to be a well-plotted, carefully calculated course of least resistance was, in fact, nothing more than a series of desperate reactions, and one lucky blow. For as the TIE bomber swerved on end around one asteroid, Chewie, elbows up high, slipped to the side and bopped Han off the side of the head.
Han was about to send the craft into a vertical stoop, a maneuver that would have slammed them headlong into another asteroid, one he hadn't noted, but the impact of Chewie's elbow knocked him away from the controls, and the TIE bomber continued its present course, somehow slipping between two asteroids that both Han and Chewie, and the observers on the ground, had assumed were too close together.
The maneuver appeared brilliant.
"Hairball!" Han yelled at Chewie.
The Wookiee turned so that his face was barely a centimeter from Han's and let out a howl. Then both looked back to the forward screen, saw an asteroid about to pancake them, and both let out a howl, throwing up their arms instinctively to cover their faces.
When they did, Chewie's too-high knee kicked the stick to the side, and the TIE bomber flipped into a sidelong roll and avoided the asteroid.
It appeared brilliant, at least.
Lando's voice came over the speaker. "You two got the kids standing here with their mouths hanging open."
Han clicked on his comm. "No problem," he said, and then he was fast to turn off the mike before he screamed, "You've got to be kidding me!" as a wall of asteroids rose up before them.
Han pulled left, Chewie right, and the TIE bomber ... did nothing. Each saw the other's countering move, each reversed his angle, and the TIE bomber ... did nothing.
"Go left, you stinking hairball!" Han shouted desperately, and then he errantly pulled right on his own stick, and since Chewie was correctly following orders, the TIE bomber ... did nothing.
"Your left, not mine!" Han scolded, which was somewhat ridiculous considering that they were both facing the same way.
Chewie reached over, wrapping Han's hands and his stick with one big paw, and pulled both sticks together. The nimble TIE bomber rocketed off to the left, skimming across the facing of the huge wall. Han kicked the throttle up to full, and they barely slipped around the edge of the wall, then cut back to the right, into the flow once again - what should have been a simple maneuver made to look brilliant.
Into the flow they zoomed, going way too fast. Lando's voice crackled over the speaker, but they couldn't begin to pay attention to it as they tried to get back under control. One huge, spinning rock fast approached, and the two pilots, now finally in sync, dipped their nose below it, reversed throttle, and executed a perfect loop, barely skimming the asteroid's surface and using its gravity to bring some resistance to their flight.
They came out around the bottom at a much safer pace and fell into a smooth rhythm along a relatively clear stretch. Han glanced down at the timer, mostly to see if he and Chewie could get the heck out of there.
It wasn't running.
"What?" he asked, and he gave the instrument a bang.
Nothing.
Now Han did click on his comm. "Chrono's not running," he called. "What do we got for a time?"
His voice, somewhat breaking up, came over the speakers in the control room, and all glanced up at the wall chrono. Three minutes, thirty-three seconds, approaching a new record for two-seaters.
"Three thirty-three - you've almost beat them," Lando called, and he quickly added, "but all three of your kids are still way ahead of you," just to incite the pair to keep on flying, to keep the show going.
"What do we got for a time?" Han's voice came again, breaking up even more.
"He didn't hear you," Luke observed, and all the smiles and nods of appreciation for the so-far fine run faded fast, picking up on the cue of Lando's suddenly grave expression. The technicians in the control pods bent low over their instruments, several opening channels to Belt-Runner I .
"Three forty-seven," Lando called loudly.
"Time?" Han asked again, obviously not hearing a word.
"Just a communication problem," Lando assured the others.
"More than that," came a call from one of the controllers. " Belt-Runner I 's lost all signal."
"All signal?" Lando asked.
"All," the man confirmed.
"What does it mean?" Leia asked, grabbing Lando's elbow.
"It means they're deaf," he answered soberly. "And it means that their shields are down."
All across the room, eyes opened wide in shock as the implications of that statement came clear. Luke left the control room at a run.
In the TIE bomber, Han and Chewie were settled now, cruising easily around the relatively clear area of asteroids,
confident that they were in no danger, and even beginning to understand how they might use their systems to their advantage.
Had those systems been working.
"Skip off that one," Han instructed, pointing to a large and smooth-edged rock to the right. Then he brought his arm angling back to the left, predicting their flight course and pointing to the spot where they might slip through another approaching cluster.
Chewie did as ordered, bringing the TIE bomber swooping toward the asteroid on the right, meaning to just skim it and use the shields like some constant repulsorlift coil.
Skip they did, but by striking with their right solar array wing and no deflecting shields. The TIE bomber bounced away and into a spin, and the shocked Han and Chewie both looked out instinctively to see the damage half the solar array torn away and the pylon bent.
They grabbed at the sticks and fought for control, pumping the foot yokes frantically. In the jostling, one of Han's belts popped open and he sprawled forward over his controls, launching the ship into a diagonal dive and roll.
Chewie reacted quickly, slapping the kill switch to Han's console, taking complete control of the craft, howling as Han yelled, working hard to correct the pitch.
"No shields, Chewie! No shields!" Han shrieked.
A lurking asteroid, a wall of stone, filled their viewport.
"Down! Down! Down!" Lando yelled, watching the spectacle, and so the TIE bomber started, diving in front of the stone, and then ...
Nothing.
"The signal's gone!" one of the controllers yelled.
" Belt-Runner I 's got nothing, either," another added.
The rectangular screen switched views suddenly, showing a TIE fighter soaring out from a pad at full throttle.
"Find them," Leia whispered under her breath, aiming the words and the prayer at her brother, Luke, the pilot of that soon-to-be-belt-running TIE fighter.
Chapter 13 Minus Thirteen They cruised easily through the blackness, the piecemeal squadron Kyp Durron had titled the Dozen-and-Two Avengers, a name the Jedi expected would be often repeated throughout the galaxy before much longer. All of them had flown Lando's Folly several times in the modified TIE fighters, and all had done well, with several climbing onto the notable board. Even more important, through the extensive training the disciplined Kyp had forced upon them, they had learned to fly together, complementing each other's movements, anticipating rather than reacting. They wouldn't match up to the more notable starfighter squadrons, Kyp knew, like Rogue Squadron - not yet, but they were improving daily, and they were seeing more action than any of the others. Perhaps one day soon, the Dozen-and-Two would be spoken of in the same breathless manner as Rogue Squadron.
Star Wars The New Jedi Order - Vector Prime - Book 1 Page 17