Survivor's Quest

by Timothy Zahn

  It was a risk worth taking. With every eye in the cantina on Sinker and his disobedient lightsaber, no one was paying the slightest attention to the droideka standing stolid guard across the room.

  Not the droideka, and certainly not the barely visible tip of brilliant green light stealthily slicing a circle through the lift floor around its curved tripod feet.

  "I'll blast you into a million soggy pieces, that's what I'll do," Huxley shot back. "Now, let him go, or I'll—"

  He never finished the threat. Across the room, with a sudden creaking of stressed metal, the lift floor collapsed, dropping the droideka with a crash back into the cellar.

  Huxley spun around, screeching something vicious.

  The screech died in midcurse. From the direction the droideka had disappeared, a black-clad figure now appeared, leaping up from the cellar to land on the edge of the newly carved hole. He lifted the short cylinder in his hand to salute position, and with another snap-hiss, a green lightsaber blade blazed.

  Huxley reacted instantly, and in exactly the way Mara would have expected. "Get him!" he shouted, stabbing a finger back toward the newcomer.

  He didn't have to give the order twice. From the semicircle of gunners behind Mara erupted a blistering staccato of blasterfire. "And you—" Huxley added over the noise. He lifted his blaster toward Mara, his finger tightening on the firing stud.

  Mara was already in motion. Rising halfway out of her chair, she grabbed the edge of the stone-topped table and heaved it upward. A fraction of a second later Huxley's shot ricocheted off the tabletop now angled toward him, passing harmlessly over Mara's head to gouge yet another hole in the ceiling behind her. Mara heaved the table a little higher, and Huxley's eyes abruptly widened as he realized she intended to drop its full weight squarely into his lap, pinning him helplessly into his chair and then crushing him to the floor.

  He was wrong. Even as he scrambled madly to get out of his chair and away from the falling table before it was too late, Mara kicked her own chair back out of her way. Using her grip on the table edge as a pivot point, she lifted her feet and swung herself forward and downward.

  With a lighter table, the trick wouldn't have worked, and she would have simply landed on her rear in front of her chair with the table in her lap. But this one was so massive, with so much inertia, that she was able to swing under the edge now falling backward toward her, land on the floor beneath where it had been standing, and get her hands clear before the edge crashed into the floor behind her.

  This put the heavy tabletop neatly between her and the twenty-odd blasters that had been trained on her back.

  Huxley, still completely off stride, had time for a single yelp before Mara lunged forward, slapped his gun hand aside with her left hand, and then grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hauled him down into cover with her. Her right hand snaked up her left sleeve, snatched her small sleeve gun from its arm holster, and jammed the muzzle up under his chin. "You know the drill," she said. "Let's hear it."

  Huxley, his eyes on the edge of terror, filled his lungs. "Huxlings! Cease fire! Cease fire!"

  There was a second of apparent indecision. Then, around the room, the blasters fell quiet. "Very good," Mara said. "What's part two?"

  Huxley's lip twisted. "Drop your weapons," he growled, opening his hand and letting his own blaster fall to the floor. "You hear me? Drop 'em."

  There was another brief pause, then a dull clatter as the others followed suit. Mara stretched out with the Force, but she could sense no duplicity. Huxley had caved completely, and his gang knew better than to try to second-guess his decisions. Keeping her blaster pressed under his chin, she got to her feet, hauling Huxley up with her. She gave each of the half-sullen, half-terrified gang members a quick look, just to make it clear what rash heroics would cost, then turned to the man in black as he walked up to her. "So didn't you see that droideka before Huxley lifted it up here?" she asked.

  "Oh, I saw it," Luke Skywalker acknowledged, closing down his lightsaber but keeping it ready in his hand.

  "And?"

  Luke shrugged. "I was curious to see whether it still worked. Did it?"

  "We didn't get a complete field test," Mara said. "It didn't look very mobile, and I'd guess its tracking is on manual instead of automatic. But it probably fires just fine."

  "Fired," Luke corrected. "It's going to need a little reworking."

  "That's okay," Mara assured him, sliding her sleeve gun back into its concealed holster. "Huxley's people will have some time on their hands."

  She gave Huxley a push away from her, letting go of his shirt. He staggered slightly but managed to maintain his balance. "Here's the deal. Before I leave, I'll credit twenty thousand to your account. Not because Karrde owes you anything at all, but simply as a thanks for your years of service to his organization."

  "Karrde's a little softhearted that way," Luke added.

  "Yes, he is," Mara agreed. "I, on the other hand, am not. You'll take it, you'll be happy with it, and you will never even think about making trouble for any of us again. Clear?"

  Huxley had the look of a man chewing droid parts, but he nodded. "Clear," he muttered.

  "Good." Mara turned to Sinker and held out her hand. "My lightsaber, please?"

  Bracing himself, Sinker walked toward her, the lightsaber still humming in his grasp. He offered it to her at arm's length; taking it, she closed down the blade and hung it back on her belt. "Thank you," she said.

  Across the room, the door slid open, and a young man darted in. He got two steps before everything seemed to register, and he faltered to a confused halt. "Uh... Chief?" he called, looking at Huxley.

  "This better be important, Fisk," Huxley warned.

  "Uh..." Fisk looked around uncertainly. "It's—I just got a signal in for someone named Mara. It was from—"

  "It was from Talon Karrde," Luke cut in. "He wants Mara to contact him aboard the Errant Venture as soon as possible at—" He narrowed his eyes as he gazed across the room at the boy. "—in the Domgrin system."

  Fisk's mouth was hanging slightly open. "Uh... yeah," he breathed. "That's right."

  "Yes," Luke said, almost offhandedly. "Oh, and it came in under the Paspro-five encrypt. That's the one that starts out usk-herf-enth—well, you know the rest."

  The kid's jaw was hanging even lower now. Blinking once, he nodded.

  "We'd better get going then," Mara said. She started to step around the table, then paused. "Oh, and by the way," she added, looking back at Huxley. "It's not Jade anymore. It's Jade Skywalker. This is my husband, Luke Skywalker. The Jedi Master. He's even better at this stuff than I am."

  "Yeah," Huxley muttered, eyeing Luke. "Yeah, I got the message."

  "Good," Mara said. "Good-bye, Huxley."

  She and Luke headed toward the door through a wide path that magically opened up for them through the crowd. A moment later, they were out in the cool evening air.

  "Very impressive," she commented as they headed down the street toward the spaceport and the waiting Jade Sabre. "When did you start being able to pull details like that out of other people's minds?"

  "It's easy enough when you know how," Luke said with a straight face.

  "Uh-huh," Mara said. "Let me guess. Karrde sent you the same message?"

  Luke nodded. "I got it in relay from the ship while I was poking around the storage cellar."

  "That's what I thought," Mara said. "And so when the opportunity presented itself, you couldn't resist playing the Omniscient Jedi trick."

  Luke shrugged. "It never hurts for these fringe types to have a little healthy fear of Jedi."

  "I suppose not," Mara agreed hesitantly.

  Luke looked sideways at her. "You don't agree?"

  "I don't know," she said. "Something about it bothers me. Maybe because Palpatine always ruled through fear."

  "I see your point," Luke admitted. "But this isn't quite the same. It's more like putting the fear of justice into them. And of course, I
would never pull anything like this with regular people."

  "I know," Mara said. "And it should help keep Huxley in line. I suppose that's what counts."

  She waved an impatient hand. "Never mind. I'm just feeling the weight of my past, I guess. So what exactly was this message from Karrde?"

  "Basically just what I said in there," Luke told her. "We're to meet him and Booster at Domgrin as quickly as we can get there."

  "And he sent it to the Sabre and Huxley's people both?"

  "Apparently so." Luke shook his head. "He must really be anxious to talk to us if he's doubling up messages this way."

  "I was just thinking that," Mara said. "And that's not like him. Unless," she added thoughtfully, "there's some crisis brewing."

  "Isn't there always?" Luke asked dryly. "Come on, let's get these funds of yours transferred and get out of here."

  CHAPTER 2

  The bright red Star Destroyer was waiting silently in the Distance as Luke brought the Jade Sabre out of hyperspace. "There it is," he said, nodding at the curved forward canopy. "What do you think?"

  "I'm picking up some mining and transport ships in the area," Mara said, peering at the long-range scanner. "We'd better get a little closer if we don't want eavesdroppers."

  "You want to take us in, or shall I?"

  "I'll do it," Mara said. Taking a quick look at the monitors, she got a grip on the control stick and pushed it forward. Luke leaned back in his seat, hunching his shoulders once to stretch tired muscles, and watched his wife work.

  Wife. For a moment he listened to the word as it bounced around his brain, marveling at the sound of it. Even after nearly three years of marriage there was something that felt strange and awesome about the whole concept.

  Of course, it had hardly been three years the way normal couples counted time. Even Han and Leia, who'd dealt with crisis after crisis early in their marriage, had at least been fighting those battles at each other's side. In Luke and Mara's case, his responsibilities at the Jedi academy and her need to disengage herself in an orderly fashion from the intricate workings of Talon Karrde's organization had kept them apart almost as much as they'd been before their wedding. Their moments together had been few and precious, and they'd had only a handful of the longer periods of togetherness that Han had once privately referred to as the breaking-in period.

  That was in fact one of the reasons Luke had suggested he accompany Mara on this particular trip. She would still be working, of course, meeting with groups of Karrde's current and former associates. But between meetings he'd hoped they would be able to spend some decent stretches of time together.

  It had actually worked pretty well. Up until now.

  "I trust you've already noticed how strange this is," Mara said into his musings. "Even if we push the Sabre for all she's worth, we're at least a week away from Coruscant. Whatever this new crisis is, we're too far away to be of any use to anyone."

  "Especially since I made it clear to Leia at the start that we weren't supposed to be disturbed unless it was a flat-out invasion," Luke agreed. "Of course, if this isn't Leia, it only leaves one possibility."

  "Two, actually," Mara corrected. "And I'd certainly hope Karrde knows better by now than to flag us for anything trivial."

  "Leia and Karrde make two," Luke said. "Who's this third option?"

  She threw him a sideways look. "We're meeting Karrde aboard the Errant Venture, remember?"

  Luke made a face. "Booster."

  "Right," Mara said. "And Booster might not know better. If he doesn't, shall we make a pact right now to make sure he does before we leave this system?"

  "Deal."

  She threw him a slightly evil smile and returned to her piloting.

  Luke turned back to the canopy, smiling out at the stars. Despite all the time they'd spent apart, he and Mara had a distinct advantage: They were both Jedi. And because of that, they shared a mental and emotional bond that was far deeper than most couples were able to forge in an entire lifetime together. Deeper and stronger even than anything Luke had experienced in his doomed relationships with Gaeriel Captison or the long-departed Callista.

  He still remembered vividly the moment that bond had first appeared, hammered into existence as the two of them fought those combat droids deep under the fortress their old adversary Grand Admiral Thrawn had set up on the planet Nirauan. At the time Luke had thought it was nothing more than a temporary melding of their minds created by the heat and pressure of a life-and-death situation. It was only afterward, when the battle was over but the bond remained, that he'd realized it had become a permanent part of their lives.

  Even then, he hadn't completely understood it. He'd assumed that it had sprung forth complete; that in those few hours it had brought the two of them into as deep an understanding of each other as it was possible to have. But in the three years since then, he'd come to realize that he had just barely scratched the surface. Mara was far more complex a human being than he'd ever suspected. As, in fact, he himself was.

  Which meant that, Jedi or not, Force-bond or not, there was going to be more for them to learn about each other for a long time to come. In all likelihood, a lifetime's worth of time. He was very much looking forward to the journey.

  And yet, at the same time, he couldn't help but feel a small twinge of uncertainty. His marriage to Mara felt right to him, in every respect... but hovering in the background behind all their happiness and success was the distant echo of Yoda's stories of the old Jedi Order during Luke's training on Dagobah.

  Specifically, the part about Jedi keeping themselves out of precisely this kind of love relationship.

  He hadn't given those teachings much weight at the time. The Empire was in control of the known galaxy, Darth Vader was breathing down the Rebel Alliance's collective neck, and all his thoughts were focused on his own survival and the survival of his friends. When Han and Leia had gotten married, Leia having Force skills hadn't seemed like a big deal. She was certainly strong in the Force, but she hadn't progressed nearly far enough in her training to call herself a Jedi.

  But it was different with Luke. He had been a Jedi when he'd asked Mara to marry him. True, their chances of survival at the time had been somewhat uncertain, but that hadn't affected the sincerity of his proposal or the depth of his feelings toward her. And despite these occasional twinges, he'd certainly found peace in his decision and in their subsequent marriage.

  Could Yoda have been wrong about how Jedi relationships were supposed to work? That was the easiest answer. But that would mean the entire Jedi Order had been wrong about it. That didn't seem likely, unless on some level all of them had lost the ability to hear the Force clearly.

  Could that particular dictum have ended with the fall of that particular group, then? Yoda had also said something about the Force having been brought back into balance, though he'd been somewhat vague about the details. Could this have rendered that part of the Jedi Code no longer applicable?

  He didn't have the answers. He wondered if he ever would.

  "Okay, they're on us," Mara announced, leaning back in her seat. "Got an antenna swiveling for a tight beam. I've been wondering how far away a Star Destroyer's sensors could pick us up."

  Luke forced his thoughts back to the situation at hand. "Though with the Errant Venture you always have to allow for malfunctions," he reminded her.

  "True," she agreed. "Sometimes I think of that ship as one massive red warning light."

  "It's certainly bright enough." Luke shook his head. "I am never, ever, going to get used to that color."

  "I kind of like it," Mara said. "Especially given where it came from."

  "You mean Booster strong-arming General Bel Iblis to refit and repaint?"

  "I was thinking of the paint itself," Mara said. "Did you know the New Republic bought all of it from Karrde?"

  Luke blinked. "You're kidding. Did Bel Iblis know?"

  "Don't be silly," Mara said with a lopsided smile. "You know Bel
Iblis. He'd have had a fit on general principles if he'd known Karrde had made any money on this deal. No, Karrde played it all very cool and through at least three intermediaries and a dummy corporation. I don't think even Booster knows."

  "Trust me, he doesn't," Luke said. "Corran once told me that one of Booster's great joys in life these days is telling people how he managed this whole thing without any help or interference from the great Talon Karrde. I wonder what he'd say if he knew that was Karrde's Paint on his hull."

  "I know what Karrde would say," Mara warned. "Both before and after he nailed my hide to the hull. One of his great joys is watching Booster strut around blissfully unaware of the ways he's dipped in and out of the old pirate's life over the years."

  Luke shook his head. "They're a matched pair. You know that?"

  "Don't tell them that, either," Mara said. There was a beep from the board. "Okay, here we go. Encrypt Paspro-nine..."

  She touched a few keys. There was a second beep, and suddenly the comm display lit up with Karrde's familiar face.

  He wasn't smiling.

  "Mara; Luke," he greeted them, his voice as grim as he looked. "Thank you for coming so promptly. I'm sorry I had to drag you out here like this, away from your schedule. Especially you, Luke; I know how much you went through to free up time for this."

  "Don't worry about it," Mara said for both of them. "The trip was getting a little routine anyway. What's up?"

  "What's up is that I've lost a message," Karrde said bluntly. "Four days ago my sector relay post at Comra picked up a transmission, marked urgent, and addressed to you, Luke."

  Luke frowned. "Me?"

  "So the chief of the station says," Karrde replied. "But that was about all he got. Before he or anyone else could pass it on down the line, it vanished."

  "You think it was stolen?" Luke asked.

  Karrde's lips compressed briefly. "I know it was stolen," he said. "We even know the name of the man who stole it, because when the message disappeared from the station, so did he. Have you ever heard of anyone by the name of Dean Jinzler?"