Star Wars: Dark Nest 1: The Joiner King

by Troy Denning

  “Not good,” Han said, coming forward. “Bad, even. These streets never—”

  Leia did not hear the rest of Han’s observation, for suddenly her danger sense was turning somersaults in her stomach and Mara was backing the hoversled up the street. When their guide protested and tried to retake the controls, Mara used the Force to push the insect off the hoversled.

  “Mom!” Ben cried. “You just dumped—”

  A deafening crackle echoed through spiretops, then chunks of mosaic-covered wall began to rain down on both sides of the boulevard. Leia instinctively turned to protect Ben, but Nanna already had him on the deck, shielding him with her laminanium-armored body. Luke and Saba were standing beside the droid, using the Force to push falling rubble away from the hoversled.

  Realizing that she still had a little honing to do before her instincts were up to full Jedi speed, Leia tipped her head back and began to look for chunks of falling building.

  “Assailants at forty degrees!” Nanna reported.

  The droid’s arm rose and opened at the elbow. The entire hoversled shuddered as the warrior-nanny cut loose with her blaster cannon.

  “Astral!” Ben yelled, peering out from under her arm.

  Nanna gently pushed his head back, then fired again. More pieces of wall crashed down in the street, and Leia glimpsed the inky shape of half a dozen dark blue insects diving for the interior of the tower.

  “Did you see that?” Han raised his blaster pistol and began to fire into the dust. “Kriffing bugs!”

  In the next instant, the hoversled pivoted around and started up the avenue away from the ambush.

  “They were trying to kill us!” Han cried from the floor of the hoversled. He hauled himself up and, as Mara swung down a side street and left the billowing dust behind, caught Leia’s eye. ‘Wow can we try my plan?”

  TWELVE

  FOR THE FIRST TWENTY MINUTES of the trip to the hangar, Han remained silent about Mara’s piloting. She was racing down the insect-choked boulevard, using the Force to weave and jink and at times bounce through the traffic as though she were flying an X-wing instead of an ancient hoversled with a repulsor drive that sounded like it might come apart at any second, and most of the time he was just too scared to talk. But when she suddenly swung into a packed alley and slowed to a more sustainable speed, he could not help himself.

  “Don’t tell me you’re losing your nerve,” he said, leaning over the half wall into the pilot’s compartment. “We’ve got to get back to the ships before Raynar finds out we survived!”

  Mara continued at the same sane speed. “He already knows.”

  “The collective mind,” Leia reminded him. “What one Yoggoy knows, they all do.”

  “Great.” Han’s stomach began to churn. “There ought to be a nice bunch of bugs waiting when we get back to the hangar.”

  “Maybe not,” Luke said. “I can’t believe Raynar would turn on us like that. He was one of the most earnest students at the academy.”

  Han and Leia shot Luke simultaneous looks of astonishment.

  “Raynar Thul is no more,” Han quoted. “He’s one of them now. UnuThul. A Joiner.”

  “Raynar’s still in there,” Luke said. “I felt him.”

  “Yeah? Well, it’s the other guy I’m worried about,” Han said. They left the alley, flashed across a boulevard, and shot into another alley. Han had no idea where they were—their guide had stuck to the main boulevards on the way to the Crash—but he assumed Mara knew where she was going. Jedi were not the only ones who could trust the Force. “And if his bugs try knocking another building down on us, I’m gonna blast him.”

  An amused twinkle came to Luke’s eye, and Han suddenly realized how ridiculous his declaration must have sounded after describing how easily Raynar had destroyed BD-8, disabled the Falcon’s laser cannons, and neutralized Leia’s Noghri bodyguards.

  “Or something.”

  “Of course, dear,” Leia said, patting his arm. “But I don’t think that will be necessary. Raynar had to know that attack would never work—not with three Jedi Masters aboard.”

  “And a Jedi Knight of much experience.” Saba nodded at Leia, though it was impossible for Han to guess whether this was a gesture of agreement or to indicate whom she meant. Barabels were blasted hard to read. “This one thinkz it was just a warning, a way to make us to leave.”

  “I hate giving in to bullies,” Han said. “But I’ll make an exception in this case. We can use the Force and Juun’s datapad to track down the twins.”

  Leia nodded. “I think it’s time to move on. We’ve found what we came for.”

  “We have?” Han asked.

  “The Force-vision,” Luke surmised. “What did you see?”

  “Just Jacen,” Leia said. “But he gave me the name of a planet and a system. I don’t recognize them, but maybe Juun—”

  “Jacen told you the system name?” Mara asked from the pilot’s seat.

  “That’s right,” Leia said. “He looked straight at me and said it. Why?”

  “That is a strange kind of vision,” Saba said.

  “More of a sending,” Luke agreed. “But across time instead of space.”

  The three Masters fell silent, leaving Han and Leia to look at each other in puzzlement.

  Finally, Han said, “I don’t get it. What’s the problem?”

  “I’ve never heard of a Jedi using the Force that way,” Luke said.

  “So he’s creative,” Han asked. “He’s my kid. What’d you expect?”

  “I think I understand,” Leia said, beginning to sound worried. “The future is always in motion . . .”

  “But not yourz,” Saba said. “When Jacen spoke acrosz time, you became destined to be there.”

  “He fixed your future,” Luke said. “At least for those few moments.”

  Leia was silent for a moment, then said, “Well, I seem to have survived it. And my future is my own again.”

  “I don’t like it,” Mara said. “Not at all. What exactly was he learning while he was gone?”

  It was a good question—one Han had been asking himself since Jacen was a teenager.

  Mara brought them out of the alley onto a busy avenue of zooming landspeeders and almost managed to keep up by pushing the repulsor drive beyond its top rating. The avenue snaked through the brightly decorated insect spires for perhaps five kilometers, then spilled onto the great boulevard that encircled the Unu’s complex of red towers, and a few minutes later the hoversled was sliding down the long golden throat of the Prime Hangar.

  The bugs were clattering about their business, durafilling micropitted hulls, off-loading bales of some spicy-smelling resin, tapping rivets on starships that should have been scrapped when the Empire was a glimmer in Palpatine’s eye. Han began to hope that Saba was right about the attack—that it had just been an impolite invitation to leave.

  Then they reached the bay where the Falcon and Shadow had been left, and Mara stopped short.

  A trio of rocket shuttles had been squeezed between the two vessels. Maintenance crews were busy stringing webs of fueling hoses across the entire alcove, thwarting all hope of a quick departure. Even worse, Raynar was standing at the foot of the Falcon’s ramp, surrounded by an entourage of bug attendants and huge Unu soldiers. He was looking toward their end of the bay, clearly awaiting their return.

  “So much for thinking he was just sending us a warning,” Han said. “I really hate being right all the time.”

  Meewalh and Cakhmaim, who had remained behind to watch the ships and begin repairs on the Falcon’s weapons turrets, were peering out from the top of the ramp. The pair hadn’t made much progress. Both sets of the blaster cannons remained pointed at the ship’s aft.

  “We should send the Noghri to fetch Tarfang and Juun,” Leia said softly. “Do you think I can risk a comm call?”

  “We’ll have to,” Han whispered. “Unless Jacen gave you coordinates to go with that name.”

  “Just the
name,” Leia said.

  “I don’t think this will come to a fight,” Luke said. He rose and joined Han behind Mara, hiding Leia so she could comm the Noghri without being seen. “But Ben, you—”

  “I know . . . stick close to Nanna,” Ben said. “I know.”

  “Right,” Luke said, smiling. “Nanna, get Ben aboard either ship as quickly as you can.”

  “But don’t try anything pushy,” Han advised. “You’ll only get a brain-melt.”

  “I am not programmed to be pushy, Captain Solo,” Nanna said.

  “Will we get to shoot that blaster cannon in your arm again?” Ben asked enthusiastically.

  “Only if someone threatens your life,” Nanna said. “You know all my routines are strictly defensive, Ben.”

  Mara threaded the hoversled through the tangle of fueling lines, but had to stop ten meters from the Shadow because a rocket shuttle blocked their way. Nanna immediately took Ben and headed for the boarding ramp, which was still down because of the bugs’ mistrust of closed doors. Everyone else remained on the hoversled, their hands out of sight and grasping their weapons, their gazes fixed on Raynar and his entourage.

  Han felt as though he were aging a week for each second it took Ben to reach the Shadow. By comparison, Luke and Mara seemed downright calm. And why shouldn’t they? Having seen all the times Han and Leia’s kids had been kidnapped or threatened when they were supposedly hidden safely away, Luke and Mara had decided that—short of an actual battle—Ben would always be safer if they kept him close. So they had repeatedly rehearsed with Ben exactly what to do in circumstances like these, and weekly “protect-the-kid” drills were standard procedure for all traveling companions. Given whom they usually traveled with—Jedi Knights and veteran soldiers—Han thought they had probably made the right decision.

  When Mara failed to start the hoversled toward the Falcon, Raynar cocked his earless head in bewilderment, then started across the hangar floor.

  “That’s my signal,” Mara said. “I’m out of here.”

  She stepped out of the pilot’s station and, still moving casually, started up the Shadow’s boarding ramp. Raynar’s eyes followed her progress, but he made no attempt to stop her. That was good, since it meant Han didn’t have to blast him yet.

  Han slipped into Mara’s place at the pilot’s station, then frowned as he tried to pick out a path to the Falcon. This was going to be difficult, at least until Mara distracted them with her blaster cannon—provided Raynar didn’t twist that around as he had the Falcon’s turrets. Han’s palms started to sweat, and he began to wish he hadn’t left their thermal detonators aboard the ship. Nothing distracted a big, bad, all-powerful enemy like one of those little silver balls rolling around at his feet.

  Raynar stopped two paces from the hoversled. “Was anyone injured?”

  “No,” Han answered. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Disappoint us?” Raynar’s eyes grew confused. “When you left Yoggoy to be crushed, we thought someone must have been—”

  “Yeah, well, sorry about the guide, but that’s what happens when you start dropping buildings on people,” Han said. Daring to hope that Raynar would actually make this easy, he gestured toward the Falcon. “Do you mind? We need to clean up.”

  Raynar lowered his melted brow, then shifted his gaze to Luke and Saba, who were waiting at opposite ends of the hoversled with their hands hidden behind the durasteel sides. His scarred lips twitched in a mockery of a smile.

  “Of course.” Raynar gave no discernible command, but a path opened through the soldier bugs at his back. He stepped onto the hoversled beside Han. “You believe the building collapse was an attack?”

  “It wasn’t exactly friendly.” Trying to hide his uneasiness, Han started the hoversled toward the Falcon. “And we saw your killer bugs.”

  “Killer bugs?” Raynar asked.

  “They were solid blue—dark blue,” Saba said from the back of the sled. “They blasted the wallz just before we passed beneath.”

  “You’re mistaken,” Raynar said. “If any of our nests had attacked you, we would have known.”

  Saba rose and came forward, and Han was a little unnerved to realize that she was not large enough to loom over Raynar the way she did most beings. “This one saw the ambusherz with her own eyez. Ben’s Defender droid killed two.”

  “The Kind did not lose anyone in the accident,” Raynar said.

  “It was no accident,” Han snapped, beginning to grow angry. “Someone tried to kill us. You, I’m thinking.”

  “If we wanted to kill you, we would not make it look like an accident,” Raynar said. “We would just do it.”

  They reached the Falcon. Han stopped the hoversled, then faced Raynar and found himself staring at the underside of a white-blotched chin.

  “Remember who you’re talking to, kid,” he said. “This is Han Solo. I’ve been sticking my finger in the eyes of two-credit dictators like you since before I broke your mother’s heart, so show a little respect when you threaten me. And don’t lie. I hate that.”

  Raynar was no more intimidated than he had been by Saba. He simply glared down at Han, his breath coming in slow, angry rasps.

  Luke leaned close to Leia and whispered, “Han dated Raynar’s mother?”

  “You’d be surprised at the women Han’s dated. I always am.” Leia stepped to Raynar’s side, then said, “You must admit the collapse looks suspicious. If it was an accident, how did the Yoggoy nest know to evacuate the area? And what about the blue Kind we saw? The ones we killed?”

  Raynar’s breathing softened to a wheeze, and he turned to face Leia. “The only dead Kind we have found at the site was your guide.”

  “The otherz must have taken the bodiez,” Saba said. “There were more than the onez Nanna killed.”

  “You were mistaken,” Raynar said. “The dust was thick, the rubble was still falling. What you saw were shadows.”

  “Who’re you trying to convince here?” Han demanded. He glanced at the attendant bugs, wondering whether they could have more say than he realized. Perhaps they were the reason Raynar was trying to deny the Colony’s responsibility. Perhaps they didn’t approve of murdering guests. “Because we know what we saw.”

  Raynar turned back to Han. “Eyes can deceive, Captain Solo. What you say you saw is impossible.”

  “Or our interpretation of it.” Luke’s voice was thoughtful. “What if it wasn’t the Kind who attacked us at all?”

  “Others aren’t allowed to wander Yoggoy alone,” Raynar said. “We would know even if someone else attacked you.”

  “What if you didn’t know they were here?” Leia asked.

  Raynar’s eyes narrowed in thought, then he shook his head in a gesture that—for a change—seemed more Raynar than insect. “You said Yoggoy was warned to evacuate. Why would Others do that?”

  “And if they did, you’d certainly know they were here,” Luke said.

  Han frowned at Luke. “Don’t tell me you’re buying this?”

  “Not that it was an accident,” Luke said. “But that Ray—er, UnuThul—believes it was.”

  Leia caught Han’s eye, then gave a curt nod that suggested he should believe it, too. “I think we can all agree on that much,” she said. “If the Colony wanted us dead, they wouldn’t have given up after one try. The attack was supposed to look like an accident, which means somebody was trying to hide it from the Unu.”

  “We’re glad you believe us, Princess,” Raynar said. “But there’s no evidence to support your theory.”

  “How could you know?” Han demanded. “There hasn’t been time. The attack was less than thirty minutes ago!”

  “Yoggoy workers have already cleared much of the rubble,” Raynar answered. “The only body they have—Kind or Other— is your guide’s. The evidence suggests the towers just collapsed. We are sorry it happened when you were about to pass beneath them.”

  “Does that happen often?” Leia asked. “That a spire just c
ollapses?”

  “Once, when there was a quake,” Raynar said. “And sometimes storms—”

  “Not what I asked,” Leia said, stepping off the hoversled. “Let me show you something.”

  She took Raynar’s meaty hand, then led him up the boarding ramp into the Falcon. Han followed with Luke and Saba, but fortunately only a small part of Raynar’s entourage—the bug with the really long antennae and another covered in furry bristles— joined them. They caught up to Leia and Raynar in the Solos’ sleeping quarters. The pair were standing in front of the bunk, staring at the famous moss-painting hanging on the wall.

  “This is Killik Twilight,” Leia said to Raynar. “Do you recognize anything?”

  “Of course,” Raynar said. “Lizil was very excited about the painting.”

  Raynar stepped to the side of double bunk—the Solos had installed it when they had realized the Falcon was going to be their primary home—then leaned closer to the painting and began to run his gaze over every detail.

  “Thank you for showing it to us,” he said. “We wanted to ask, but our meetings have gone so badly that we didn’t want to presume.”

  Han raised his brow. Maybe there was less Raynar left in that seared body than he thought. The Raynar Thul whom Han remembered had been a decent-enough kid, but his wealthy family had never taught him to do anything but presume.

  Leia appeared less stunned than Han by Raynar’s politeness.

  She smiled graciously, then said, “Sometimes, art helps us know each other better. Do you know what this painting depicts?”

  Raynar nodded. “It shows an arm of the Lost Nest.” He still did not look away. “We remember it well.”

  “The Lost Nest?” Luke asked.

  “Remember it?” Han gasped. “It’s ancient!”

  Raynar finally tore his gaze from the moss-painting.

  “We remember the nest.” He fixed his eyes on Leia. “When humans came to Alderaan, they called it the Castle Lands. But we knew the nest as Oroboro. Our Home.”

  Han shook his head in disbelief. He liked to say that all bugs were alike, but not even he had assumed that the Kind and the Killiks were actually the same. Sure, they shared the same general body shape and had the same number of limbs, but beyond that, the Kind looked like the Killiks in the painting about as much as humans looked like Aqualish. The towers, on the other hand, were another matter. In both the painting and the Yoggoy nest, they were crooked cones with distinctly banded exteriors.