Dark Force Rising

by Timothy Zahn

  “Hold it,” Luke cut him off. At the edge of his mind … “I think I’ve got them. Six humans and two aliens, the nearest about two hundred meters straight ahead.”

  “What land of aliens?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never run into either species before.”

  “Well, watch them. Aliens in Ferrier’s gang are usually hired for their muscle. Let’s go.”

  “Maybe you should stay here,” Luke suggested, unhooking his lightsaber from his belt. “I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to protect you if they decide to make a fight of it.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Lando told him. “Ferrier knows me; maybe I can keep it from coming down to a fight. Besides, I’ve got an idea I want to try.”

  They were just under twenty meters from the first human when Luke caught the change in sense from the group ahead. “They’ve spotted us,” he murmured to Lando, shifting his grip slightly on his lightsaber. “You want to try talking to them?”

  “I don’t know,” Lando murmured back, craning his neck to look down the seemingly deserted corridor ahead. “We might need to get a little closer—”

  It came as a flicker of movement from one of the doorways, and an abrupt ripple in the Force. “Duck!” Luke barked, igniting his lightsaber. With a snap-hiss the brilliant green-white blade appeared—

  And moved almost of its own accord to neatly block the blaster bolt that shot toward them.

  “Get behind me!” Luke ordered Lando as a second bolt sizzled the air toward them. Guided by the Force, his hands again shifted the lightsaber blade into the path of the attack. A third bolt spattered from the blade, followed by a fourth. From a doorway farther down the corridor a second blaster opened up, adding its voice to the first.

  Luke held his ground, feeling the Force flowing into him and out through his arms, evoking an odd sort of tunnel vision effect that turned mental spotlights on the attack itself and relative darkness on everything else. Lando, half crouched directly behind him, was only a hazy sense in the back of his mind; the rest of Ferrier’s people were even dimmer. Setting his teeth firmly together, letting the Force control his defense, he kept his eyes moving around the corridor, alert for new threats.

  He was looking directly at the odd shadow when it detached itself from the wall and started forward.

  For a long minute he didn’t believe what he was seeing. There was no texture or detail to the shadow; nothing but a slightly fluid shape and nearly absolute blackness. But it was real … and it was moving toward him. “Lando!” he shouted over the scream of blaster shots. “Five meters away—forty degrees left. Any ideas?”

  He heard the hissing intake of air from behind him. “Never seen anything like it. Retreat?”

  With an effort, Luke pulled as much of his concentration as he dared away from their defense and turned it toward the approaching shadow. There was indeed something there—one of the alien intelligences, in fact, that he’d sensed earlier. Which implied it was one of Ferrier’s people …

  “Stay with me,” he told Lando. This was going to be risky, but turning tail and running wouldn’t accomplish anything. Moving slowly, keeping his stance balanced and yet fluid, he headed directly toward the shadow.

  The alien halted, its sense clearly surprised that a potential prey would be advancing instead of backing away from it. Luke took advantage of the momentary hesitation to move farther toward the corridor wall to his left. The first blaster, its shots starting to come close to the mobile shadow as it tracked Luke’s movement, abruptly ceased fire. The shadow’s form shifted slightly, giving Luke the impression of something looking over its shoulder. He continued moving to his left, drawing the second blaster’s fire toward the shadow as he did so; and a second later it, too, fell reluctantly silent.

  “Good job,” Lando murmured approvingly in his ear. “Allow me.”

  He took a step back from Luke. “Ferrier?” he called. “This is Lando Calrissian. Listen, if you want to keep your pal here in one piece, you’d better call him off. This is Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight. The guy who took down Darth Vader.”

  Which wasn’t strictly true, of course. But it was close enough. Luke had, after all, defeated Vader in their last lightsaber duel, even if he hadn’t actually gone on to kill him.

  Regardless, the implications weren’t lost on the unseen men down the corridor. He could sense the doubt and consternation among them; and even as he lifted his lightsaber a little higher, the shadow stopped its approach. “What was your name?” someone called.

  “Lando Calrissian,” Lando repeated. “Think back to that botched Phraetiss operation about ten years ago.”

  “Oh, I remember,” the voice said grimly. “What do you want?”

  “I want to offer you a deal,” Lando said. “Come on out and we’ll talk.”

  There was a moment of hesitation. Then, the big man from Luke’s memory track stepped out from behind a group of crates that had been stacked against the corridor wall, the simmering cigarra still clenched between his teeth. “All of you,” Lando insisted. “Come on, Ferrier, bring them out. Unless you seriously think you can hide them from a Jedi.”

  Ferrier’s eyes flicked to Luke. “The mystic Jedi powers have always been exaggerated,” he sneered. But his lips moved inaudibly; and, even as he approached them, five humans and a tall, thin, green-scaled insectoid alien emerged one by one from concealment.

  “That’s better,” Lando said approvingly, stepping out from behind Luke. “A Verpine, huh?” he added, waving toward the insectoid alien. “Got to hand it to you, Ferrier—you’re fast. Maybe thirty hours since the Imperials pulled out, and already you’re on board. And with a tame Verpine, yet. You ever heard of Verpine, Luke?”

  Luke nodded. The alien’s appearance wasn’t familiar, but the name was. “They’re supposed to be geniuses at fixing and reassembling high-tech devices.”

  “And it’s a well-deserved reputation,” Lando said. “Rumor has it they’re the ones who helped Admiral Ackbar design the B-wing starfighter. You shifted specialties to palming damaged ships, Ferrier? Or did your Verpine come aboard just for the occasion?”

  “You mentioned a deal,” Ferrier said coldly. “So deal.”

  “I want to know first if you were in on the Sluis Van attack from the beginning,” Lando said, matching Ferrier’s tone. “If you’re working for the Empire, we can’t deal.”

  One of the gang, blaster in hand, took a quiet preparatory breath. Luke shifted his lightsaber toward him slightly in warning, and the brief thought of heroics faded quickly away. Ferrier looked at the man, back at Lando. “The Empire’s sent out a call for ships,” he said grudgingly. “Warships in particular. They’re paying a bounty of twenty percent above market value for anything over a hundred thousand tons that can fight.”

  Luke and Lando exchanged a quick glance. “Odd request,” Lando said. “They lose one of their shipyard facilities or something?”

  “They didn’t say, and I didn’t ask,” Ferrier said acidly. “I’m a businessman; I give the customer what he wants. You here to deal, or just talk?”

  “I’m here to deal,” Lando assured him. “You know, Ferrier, it seems to me that you’re in sort of a jam here. We’ve nailed you red-handed in the process of trying to steal New Republic warships. We’ve also pretty well proved that Luke can take all of you without any trouble. All I have to do is whistle up Security and the whole bunch of you will be off to a penal colony for the next few years.”

  The shadow, which had been standing still, took a step forward. “The Jedi might survive,” Ferrier said darkly. “But you wouldn’t.”

  “Maybe; maybe not,” Lando said easily. “Regardless, it’s not the sort of situation a businessman like yourself wants to be in. So here’s the deal: you leave now, and we’ll let you get out of the Sluis Van system before we drop the hammer with the authorities.”

  “How very generous of you,” Ferrier said, heavily sarcastic. “So what do you really want? A cut of the
operation? Or just a wad of money?”

  Lando shook his head. “I don’t want your money. I just want you out of here.”

  “I don’t take well to threats.”

  “Then take it as a friendly warning for past associations’ sake,” Lando said, his voice hard. “But take it seriously.”

  For a long minute the only sound in the corridor was the quiet background hum of distant machinery. Luke held himself in combat stance, trying to read the shifting emotions in Ferrier’s sense. “Your ‘deal’ would cost us a lot of money,” Ferrier said, shifting the cigarra to the other side of his mouth.

  “I realize that,” Lando conceded. “And believe it or not, I am sorry. But the New Republic can’t afford to lose any ships at the moment. However, you might try over at the Amorris system. Last I heard, the Cavrilhu pirate gang was using that as a base, and they’re always in need of expert maintenance people.” He looked appraisingly at the shadow. “And extra muscle, too.”

  Ferrier followed his gaze. “Ah, you like my wraith, do you?”

  “Wraith?” Luke frowned.

  “They call themselves Defel,” Ferrier said. “But I think ‘wraith’ suits them so much better. Their bodies absorb all visible light—some sort of evolved survival mechanism.” He eyed Luke. “And what do you think of this deal, Jedi? Enforcer of law and justice that you are?”

  Luke had expected the question. “Have you stolen anything here?” he countered. “Or done anything illegal other than breaking into the station’s assignment computer?”

  Ferrier’s lip twisted. “We also shot at a couple of bizits who were poking their noses in where they shouldn’t have,” he said sarcastically. “That count?”

  “Not when you didn’t hit them,” Luke countered evenly. “As far as I’m concerned, you can leave.”

  “You’re too kind,” Ferrier growled. “So is that it?”

  “That’s it,” Lando nodded. “Oh, and I want your slicer access code, too.”

  Ferrier glared at him, but gestured to the Verpine standing behind him. Silently, the tall green alien lurched forward and handed Lando a pair of data cards. “Thank you,” Lando said. “All right. I’ll give you one hour to get your ship up and out of the system before we drop the hammer. Have a good trip.”

  “Yeah, we’ll do that,” Ferrier bit out. “So good to see you, Calrissian. Maybe next time I can do you a favor.”

  “Give Amorris a try,” Lando urged him. “I’d bet they’ve got at least a couple of old Sienar patrol ships you could relieve them of.”

  Farrier didn’t reply. In silence, the group passed Lando and Luke and headed back down the empty corridor toward the reception area. “You sure telling him about Amorris was a good idea?” Luke murmured as he watched them go. “The Empire’s likely to get a patrol ship or two out of the deal.”

  “Would you rather they have gotten hold of a Calamarian Star Cruiser?” Lando countered. “Ferrier’s probably good enough to have palmed one. Certainly with things as confused out there as they are.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “I wonder what’s going on over in the Empire. It doesn’t make sense to pay premium prices for used ships when you’ve got the facilities to make your own.”

  “Maybe they’re having some trouble,” Luke suggested, closing down the lightsaber and returning it to his belt. “Or maybe they’ve lost one of their Star Destroyers but managed to save the crew and need ships to put them on.”

  “I suppose that’s possible,” Lando conceded doubtfully. “Hard to imagine an accident that would destroy any ship beyond repair but leave the crew alive. Well, we can get the word back to Coruscant. Let the Intelligence hot-shots figure out what it means.”

  “If they’re not all too busy playing politics,” Luke said. Because if Councilor Fey’lya’s group was also trying to take over Military Intelligence … He shook the thought away. Worrying about the situation wasn’t productive. “So what now? We give Ferrier his hour and then hand those slicer codes over to the Sluissi?”

  “Oh, we’ll give Ferrier his hour, all right,” Lando said, frowning thoughtfully at the departing group. “But the slicer codes are another matter. It occurred to me on the way in that if Ferrier was using them to divert workers from this end of the station, there’s no particular reason why we can’t also use them to bump your X-wing to the top of the priority stack.”

  “Ah,” Luke said. It was, he knew, not exactly the sort of marginally legal activity a Jedi should participate in. But under the circumstances—and given the urgency of the situation back on Coruscant—bending some rules in this case was probably justified. “When do we get started?”

  “Right now,” Lando said, and Luke couldn’t help wincing at the quiet relief in the other’s voice and sense. Clearly, he’d been half afraid that Luke would raise those same awkward ethical questions about the suggestion. “With any luck, you’ll be up and ready to fly before I have to give these things to the Sluissi. Come on, let’s go find a terminal.”

  CHAPTER

  3

  “Landing request acknowledged and confirmed, Millennium Falcon,” the voice of the Imperial Palace air control director came over the comm. “You’re cleared for pad eight. Councilor Organa Solo will meet you.”

  “Thanks, Control,” Han Solo said, easing the ship down toward the Imperial City and eyeing with distaste the dark cloud cover that hung over the whole region like some brooding menace. He’d never put much stock in omens, but those clouds sure didn’t help his mood any.

  And speaking of bad moods … Reaching over, he tapped the ship’s intercom switch. “Get ready for landing,” he called. “We’re coming into our approach.”

  “Thank you, Captain Solo,” C-3PO’s stiffly precise voice came back. A little stiffer than usual, actually; the droid must still be nursing a wounded ego. Or whatever it was that passed for ego in droids.

  Han shut off the intercom, lip twisting with some annoyance of his own as he did so. He’d never really liked droids much. He’d used them occasionally, but never more than he’d absolutely had to. Threepio wasn’t as bad as some of those he’d known … but then, he’d never spent six days alone in hyperspace with any of the others, either.

  He’d tried. He really had, if for no other reason than that Leia rather liked Threepio and would have wanted them to get along. The first day out from Sluis Van he’d let Threepio sit up front in the cockpit with him, enduring the droid’s prissy voice and trying valiantly to hold something resembling a real conversation with him. The second day, he’d let Threepio do most of the talking, and had spent a lot of his time working in maintenance crawlways where there wasn’t room for two. Threepio had accepted the limitation with typical mechanical cheerfulness, and had chattered at him from outside the crawlway access hatches.

  By the afternoon of the third day, he’d banned the droid from his presence entirely.

  Leia wouldn’t like it when she found out. But she’d have liked it even less if he’d given in to his original temptation and converted the droid into a set of backup alluvial dampers.

  The Falcon was through the cloud layer now and in sight of the monstrosity that was the Emperor’s old palace. Banking slightly, Han confirmed that pad eight was clear and brought them down.

  Leia must have been waiting just inside the canopy that shrouded the pad’s accessway, because she was already beside the ship as Han lowered the Falcon’s ramp. “Han,” she said, her voice laced with tension. “Thank the Force you’re back.”

  “Hi, sweetheart,” he said, being careful not to press too hard against the increasingly prominent bulge of her belly as he hugged her. The muscles in her shoulders and back felt tight beneath his arms. “I’m glad to see you, too.”

  She clutched him to her for a moment, then gently disengaged. “Come on—we’ve got to go.”

  Chewbacca was waiting for them just inside the accessway, his bowcaster slung over his shoulder in ready position. “Hey, Chewie,” Han nodded, getting a growled Wookiee greeting
in return. “Thanks for taking care of Leia.”

  The other rumbled something strangely noncommittal in reply. Han eyed him, decided this wasn’t the time to press for details of their stay on Kashyyyk. “What’ve I missed?” he asked Leia instead.

  “Not much,” she said as she led the way down the ramp corridor and into the Palace proper. “After that first big flurry of accusations, Fey’lya’s apparently decided to cool things down. He’s talked the Council into letting him take over some of Ackbar’s internal security duties, but he’s been behaving more like a caretaker than a new administrator. He’s also hinted broadly that he’d be available to take charge of the Supreme Command, but he hasn’t done any real pushing in that direction.”

  “Doesn’t want anyone to panic,” Han suggested. “Accusing someone like Ackbar of treason is a big enough bite for people to chew on as it is. Anything more and they might start choking on it.”

  “That’s my feeling, too,” Leia agreed. “Which should give us at least a little breathing space to try and figure out this bank thing.”

  “Yeah, what’s the lowdown on that, anyway?” Han asked. “All you told me was that some routine bank check had found a big chunk of money in one of Ackbar’s accounts.”

  “It turns out it wasn’t just a routine check,” Leia said. “There was a sophisticated electronic break-in at the central clearing bank on Coruscant the morning of the Sluis Van attack, with several big accounts being hit. The investigators ran a check on all the accounts the bank served and discovered that there’d been a large transfer into Ackbar’s account that same morning from the central bank on Palanhi. You familiar with Palanhi?”

  “Everybody knows Palanhi,” Han said sourly. “Little crossroads planet with an overblown idea of their own importance.”

  “And the firm belief that if they can stay neutral enough they can play both sides of the war to their own profit,” Leia said. “Anyway, the central bank there claims that the money didn’t come from Palanhi itself and must have just been transferred through them. So far our people haven’t been able to backtrack it any further.”