“Well, y’know, I wasn’t there, but—”
“And I am the last of the Jedi. I was trained by Ben Kenobi.”
Nick’s jaw dropped. “You mean Obi-Wan? I thought that was, y’know, just more holothriller gunk. Kenobi’s alive?”
“No,” Luke said softly. “Who are you?”
“Me? Nobody. Nobody special,” Nick said. “I was an officer in the GAR—the old Grand Army of the Republic—but I didn’t get along real well with the new management, know what I mean?”
“An officer?” Luke frowned. “Special enough. The Alliance could have used you. The New Republic still can. What have you been doing for the past twenty-five years?”
“Hiding from Vader, mostly. He’s the management I didn’t get along with.”
“You can stop hiding. Vader’s dead.”
“What, just like in the show? That’s good news.”
“If you say so. The Emperor died the same day.”
Nick tapped his head and grimaced. “I haven’t exactly been keeping up with the news. Did you kill him?”
“What? No. No, I didn’t kill either of them.”
“Not exactly like in Luke Skywalker and the Jedi’s Revenge, huh?”
“No,” Luke said, even more softly. “Not like that at all. But they are dead. That part’s true.” He lifted his head as if he was listening to something Nick couldn’t hear. An instant later, a new round of shock waves rattled the cavernway. “When this is over, you and I need to sit down together for a long, long talk.”
Nick’s breathing had barely started to ease. “I’m ready to sit down now.”
“When this is over,” Luke repeated. “For now, we run.”
“I was afraid you were gonna say that…” But Nick was already talking to Skywalker’s retreating back. He wheezed a sigh, hiked up his robe, and went after him. He could hear, coming from up ahead now, the thunder-roll of explosions that were shaking the whole mountain. “Where are we going in such a hurry?”
“I’ll show you.”
They rounded another curve and ahead, the tunnel ended in a narrow ledge. Above the ledge was night, and stars, and streaks of X-wings hurtling down for strafing runs. Below the ledge was a long, long drop down the inner bowl of a huge, ancient caldera that was studded with impact craters and lit by the burning remains of crashed starfighters from both sides. The far rim had crumbled, and much of it still glowed dully with residual heat from the explosions that had shattered it; through the gaps Nick could see, far down the curve of the volcanic dome, turbolaser towers swiveling and pumping gouts of disintegrating energy into the sky.
“Uh,” he said, hanging back from the edge. “Maybe I’ll just wait up here.”
“Maybe you won’t.”
“Have I mentioned that I’ve got, y’know, a minor issue about heights?”
“I’m sorry about that,” Luke said seriously. “But you’re coming along. I have a feeling I’ll need you.”
“But listen—you’re going after your sister, right? Who’s going after Cronal? Somebody’s gonna have to take him out.”
“And you’re volunteering to play assassin?”
Nick cocked his head. “The crystals in my head… I can feel him, sort of. I can find him. I can take him out.”
“I believe you. But no. That’s final.”
“It may be the only way to save your sister. Not to mention you.”
Luke sighed. “And what happens if he gets to her before you get to him? What happens if she doesn’t have somebody like you around to break her out of the treatment, the way you saved me?”
“Then we’ll just have to—” The look on Luke’s face stopped Nick cold. “Uh. Yeah, I can see your problem with that. I guess I’d better be extra fast.”
“I guess you’d better do what you’re told.”
“Hey, news flash, General Skywalker—I’m not one of your soldiers.”
“Hey, news flash, Lord Shadowspawn,” Luke said, a faint smile on his lips but only bleak darkness in his eyes. “You’re a prisoner of war.”
“Aw—aw, c’mon, you’re not serious—”
“You said you knew Jedi,” Luke said. “Ever win an argument with one?”
Nick sighed. “Where to?”
“There.” Luke pointed down into the caldera. “Right there.”
Nick squinted. It looked like featureless rock scattered with wreckage. “What’s the big deal about right there?”
“That,” Luke said with quiet certainty, “is where the Millennium Falcon is about to crash.”
“What? The Millennium Falcon? Like in Han Solo in the Lair of the Space Slugs?”
“Sort of.”
“You’re not kidding? I thought—y’know, I thought that Han Solo was, y’know, a fictional character. That those stories are just, well, stories.”
Luke closed his eyes and extended a hand. His voice took on a distant, distinctly hollow tone. “They are just stories. But Han’s real, and as for the Falcon—look up.”
Nick did. A rising shriek of something large and not so aerodynamic flying very, very fast gave him a half second’s warning before a huge dark shape roared way too close overhead—an oblate disk with the forward cargo mandibles of a Corellian light freighter—that wasn’t really flying so much as it was, well, hurtling, flipping end over end through the air like a deformed coin tossed by a hand the size of this mountain. On fire and out of control, it tumbled toward the crater’s floor and certain destruction.
“Oh,” Nick said. “Awwww—I would have liked to meet him—I love that show…”
“Shh.” Luke’s forehead squeezed into a frown of concentration, and the fingers on his extended hand spread as his breathing deepened. “This isn’t my best trick.”
His fingers twitched as if he were tripping an invisible switch—and out on the dark spinning disk of the freighter, automated attitude thrusters blasted to life, dorsal on the mandibles, ventral to aft above the engines, slowing the ship’s tumble. Nick heard the sudden shriek of overpowered repulsorlifts, and the forward attitude jets swiveled to add their thrust, and the freighter slammed into the ground, which must have been some kind of cinder pit, because the front mandibles drove in almost to the cockpit at a sixty-degree angle… and stuck fast.
And the ship just stayed there. It didn’t fall over. It didn’t blow up. It didn’t do anything that any reasonable person would expect a ship to do after a full-on crash.
Nick stared at it with his mouth open. Some few seconds later, he realized he hadn’t been breathing. “Did you… I mean, did I just see…?” he gasped. “Did you just now catch that ship?”
Luke opened his eyes. “Not exactly.”
“And that’s not your best trick?” Nick shook his head, blinking. “What is your best trick?”
“I hope you never find out,” Luke said. “Come on.”
Leia had known they were in desperate danger even before the floor had melted away beneath her feet. Chewbacca’s sudden reappearance in the cavern they’d fallen into had given her an instant’s hope—but only an instant’s, as the Wookiee was almost immediately felled by these rock creatures and now lay twitching on the ground, smoke curling from his singed fur. Then one of them had flowed around Han’s ankle and shocked him with some kind of energy discharge that had made all his hair stand on end, spitting sparks and smoke, before he collapsed in turn. Another woman might have lost heart then; or when all the rock creatures seemed to turn and converge on her together; or when, just as she was leaping for Han, one of the rock creatures flowed over the glow rod and the cavern plunged into impenetrable darkness… but Leia wasn’t the type to lose heart. Something about being in trouble this deep made her calm and focused. And determined.
Even in the darkness she seemed to somehow just know where Han was—and where the rock creatures weren’t. Her hand found the top of Han’s boot, and she latched on to drag him back—and her efforts were rewarded with an ear-shattering electronically fierce Thooperoo HEEE! as R
2 launched himself through the air, so haloed in sparks from his overdriven antitamper field that he lit up the cavern like flares of summer lightning.
Seeing the rock creatures melt to slag at his touch gave her an inspiration. “Artoo! The hold-out!”
The astromech’s dome spun and a concealed hatch popped open, releasing a spring-loaded ejector that had been, less than a year before, engineered to deliver a lightsaber to Luke Skywalker’s hand. What shot forth from it now was no lightsaber, though, but instead a SoroSuub ELG-5C hold-out blaster.
The compact pistol flipped through the air, and Leia lost sight of it in the uncertain light—but she put out her hand anyway, and somehow wasn’t even surprised when the blaster smacked neatly into her palm. She swung the hold-out through a quick arc, firing as fast as she could squeeze the trigger. The stun blasts triggered more discharges from the rock creatures as they sagged and liquefied; the walls around her crawled and crackled with blue fire.
“Artoo! Grab Chewie and get behind me!”
The droid chirped an affirmative and shut down his antitamper field before he extended a pair of manipulators to grip the unconscious Wookiee by the bandolier. Leia covered them, driving back the rock creatures with a barrage of stun blasts. The servos in R2’s locomotors whined in protest as he dragged Chewbacca past Leia. “And see if you can wake him up!”
Keeping up the fire with one hand, she used the other to shake Han. When that didn’t work, she gave him a couple of sharp smacks across his face, which elicited only a thin groan. Finally she grabbed one of his earlobes and pinched it as hard as she could, digging her thumbnail in deep enough to sit him bolt upright with a wide-eyed howl of protest.
“Ow-wow-ow-okay-I’m-awake-lay-off-the-EAR, huh?” Han scrambled to his feet, then half sagged again, dizzily clutching his head. “Woo. What hit me?”
Leia was still firing as she backed up. “What do you think? What am I shooting at?”
“Good question.” Han blinked, trying make his eyes focus through the flashes and flickers of stun blasts and energy crackles. “What are those things?”
“Unfriendly,” Leia said tightly while she blasted another.
“Yeah, sure, make fun of the woozy guy.” He clutched at his hip, but his hand found only an empty holster. “Um, you wouldn’t happen to have seen my blaster lying around anywhere, would you?”
“I’d help you hunt for it, but I’m a little—” She laid down a line of fire that slagged three or four more. “—busy right now, okay? Keep backing up.”
“They’re not behind us?”
“Not yet.”
Han squinted. “How do you know?”
“You want to go look? I know.”
“Right, right, I get it.” Han waved to R2. “Hey, Stubby! A little light, huh?”
R2-D2’s holoprojector swiveled and flared to life, emitting a wide cone of brilliant white light. Han peered into the advancing ranks of the rock creatures that just kept slithering forward—and kept regrowing up from the sludge Leia had melted them into—and tried to keep the desperation out of his voice. “No hint from the Force? A clue? Anything?”
“Just stay back and let me save your life again, will you?” But even as she spoke, her series of stun blasts wholly liquefied a couple of them, and there in the thin puddle of rock gruel Han spotted a blessedly familiar silhouette.
“Now, that’s more like it!” He pounced on it and fished his DL-44 out of the muck, giving it a good shake to clear the works before the stone could reharden. His first shot sent a puff of vaporized rock curling out from the DL’s emitter, but after that it seemed to work just fine.
“I’ll take over here!” he told Leia, stepping up with a wide-dispersal rebound shot off the wall that spread to take out three of the creatures at once. “See what you can do to get Chewie on his feet—these power cells won’t last forever!”
When Leia turned to comply, Chewbacca was already sitting up and dazedly struggling to rise; he was urgently groaning something that Leia’s still-limited knowledge of Shyriiwook couldn’t follow. “What’s he saying? Is that ‘Code Black’? What’s Code Black mean?”
“It means Drop everything and run like hell,” Han said.
Leia looked back over her shoulder at the massed rock creatures that still kept pressing forward no matter how many Han blasted. “He always was the brains of this operation.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Han had to leap back and dodge, ducking toward her as the rock creatures started to flow out of the walls to either side of him. “Go! Chewie, get the droid! I’m right behind you!”
Chewbacca swept R2 up in his massive hairy arms and shambled off unsteadily, though his gait was strengthening with every step. R2 kept his holoprojector aimed at the ceiling to provide as much light as possible. Leia pelted along after them, throwing glances back to make sure Han was still right behind her, which he was, running hard, firing at random back over his shoulder.
The rock creatures came after them in a swelling wave of stone.
They ran.
Han drew even with her, puffing. “Got any idea… where we’re going?”
“Sure.” Leia’s breath had gone short, too. “Away from them.”
“I mean… do you have a feeling… what might be up ahead?”
“You went pretty fast… from it’s one thing to see Luke do it to Use the Force, Leia, didn’t you?” She tried for her usual crisply tart tone, but the wheeze of her breath only made her sound tired.
“My line of work… you gotta be a… flexible thinker.”
“Just keep running. Follow… him.” She waved a hand toward Chewbacca, who pounded along the cavernway ahead of them. “Don’t know what’s ahead,” she said. “Not escaping… know that much.”
“The Force… tell you that?”
“Uh-uh. The tunnel.” She waved her blaster toward the floor. “Slanting down…”
“Oh… that can’t be good…”
“Look,” she gasped. “I can… slow ’em down. You go on… I’ll catch up—”
“Not a… not a chance. You’re just saying that… as an excuse for a breather,” Han insisted between wheezes. “If anybody’s gonna take a break… it’s me.”
She gave him a fond sidelong smile. “On three?”
“Huh.” He grinned back at her. “How about… on one?”
“Good plan.” Just ahead, the tunnel opened out into a cavern; Chewie and R2 were already inside. There was no way to tell how big the cavern might be, but she knew that the only thing keeping them going this far had been that the rock creatures had had to bunch together inside the tunnel to come at them; in a more open area, they wouldn’t have a chance. Just as she and Han reached the tunnel’s mouth, she sucked in as deep a breath as her starved lungs would hold. “One!”
Shoulder-to-shoulder, they skidded to a stop and wheeled, triggering a storm of stun blasts back along the cavernway. The front ranks of the rock creatures sagged, and melted…
And the ones behind them stopped.
“Hey… hey, how about that?” Han sagged forward, hands to his bent knees, doubled over and panting. “Maybe they’ve… had enough. You think?”
“I… doubt it.”
“Maybe they’re as tired of chasing us… as we are of running…”
Chewbacca howled something incomprehensible. R2 twittered. Neither of them sounded happy. Leia turned, and the rest of her breath left her in a smothered version of one of Han’s Corellian curses. “Or maybe,” she said, “they stopped because we ran exactly where they wanted us to go.”
The cavern was full of bodies.
Dead bodies.
Dozens, maybe hundreds of bodies, half-sunk into the stone—as though it had been liquid and hardened around them. Up to their waists or chests in the floor, pushed into the walls so that only a face or a back of the head was clear. Some of the bodies—human ones—wore what looked like stormtrooper armor, except that it was black as the stone around them. Some—fresher ones,
some human, some Mon Calamari, who looked like they might only be sleeping—wore New Republic flight suits.
“For the record?” Han sounded a little shaky. “This is why I didn’t want you to come along.”
An endless swarm of TIE fighters swirled around the Remember Alderaan and the other capital ships of the Republic that were huddled together in Mindor’s radiation-shadow. Republic fire control tracked the fighters desperately to lock in missiles, and gunners poured turbolaser bolts through the vacuum, but the nimble starfighters were almost impossible to hit, and the only TIEs that got close enough to trigger the Remember Alderaan’s antifighter cluster munitions were the ones streaking in for full-speed physical intercepts.
Suicide crashes.
Even a lightly built TIE fighter generated a titanic amount of kinetic energy when traveling at the high end of its sublight velocity; the particle shields of the capital ships couldn’t dissipate it fast enough. A couple of suiciders were enough to trigger a momentary partial shield failure, and if another TIE timed it just right to slip into the gap, the impact could rip through whole decks.
The Remember Alderaan rocked and shuddered under its third such impact; clouds of gas and crystallized water vapor billowed out from three enormous rents in its hull. Like all battle cruisers, the Alderaan was designed to suck up an astonishing amount of damage and go on fighting, but when Lando got the preliminary damage and casualty report on this latest blast, even his legendary unquenchable optimism was pretty well quenched. Over a thousand crew members wounded or missing; a third of his turbolasers out of commission; and one main engine was overheating and would either shut down or melt down sometime in the next three or four minutes.
Lando leaned on the comm board on the Alderaan’s bridge. “Where the hell is our fighter escort?” he snarled. “Somebody has to stop these guys!”
But he knew the answer: the task force’s fighters were overcommitted in support of the ground action against the STOEs—the surface-to-orbit emplacements. He didn’t even have enough to adequately cover his marines, let alone defend his fleet.
“General Calrissian! General, can someone give me a hand?” C-3PO, knocked off his feet by the impact, had somehow gotten himself wedged under the security console. “Oh, what a terrible dent I’m going to have!”
Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor Page 22