I smiled, and would have refused, but Jenos Idanian, who I had become for my trip away from CoreIlia, never would have. "I would be delighted to join him."
A tone sounded from the back. The flight attendant, rather resplendent in her blue and gold Tinta Lines uniform, glanced back into the main passenger cabin. There a Kuati woman was doing her best to stuff a huge carryall into a starboard, over-seat storage compartment and close the door. The flight attendant sighed. "You, of course, know your way around a Luxuo,-class shuttle, so you can head forward whenever you want."
"Thanks."
My seatmate, a young man whose more prominent features were a big larynx and bigger nose, beamed at me. "Do you really know your way around on one of these ships? I've studied them at tech-school and know they have the Astronav P127 Course Plotter, but of course, we're not going to use it since we're just going on an in-system jump, but it's a beauty and can come up with courses very fast, even multiple jumps, and when I've used the one at school I could plot a tough course in sec-onds."
I held a hand up. "Slow down, breathe."
"Sorry." He smiled sheepishly at me. "It's just that forever and ever and ever I've wanted to fly. Ever since I've been a little kid, I mean, really little, I've heard stories about the Re-bellion-well, the New Republic now-and Rogue Squadron and all them and I've wanted to fly just like them. And when Grand Admiral Thrawn showed up I volunteered for service to fight him, but I didn't test out very good, so I went to tech-school to learn how to fix ships and then they found I could do good navigation, so they trained me for that, but then Thrawn was gone and forces got demobilized and so I was looking for a civilian job with the Tinta line.... "
"Really, look, just breathe." I offered him my hand because Jenos would do that sort of thing. "Jenos Idanian."
"Keevy Spart." He wiped sweat from his forehead with a long-fingered hand. Freckles covered him. He wore his red hair shorter than mine and was slender enough that he almost re-minded me of Kirtan Loor, but this kid wasn't that stupid or mean. "So, do you fly one of these things?"
"I have, Keevy, the military variant. Back during the Rebel-lion some." I looked around the Premier cabin. "Those shuttles didn't have the accommodations this one does, and we packed soldiers in fairly tightly. And our navicomp wasn't as sophisti-cated as the one you describe." "Oh, this is so exciting." I smiled. "Tell me about it."
"Okay..." he began.
I sank back in my seat and kept a smile on my face because that's what Jenos would have done. The morning after the nightmare I had joined my grandfather in the greenhouse and told him what I had resolved to do: to leave Coreilia and infil-trate the Invids. He applauded the plan and immediately set about getting me squared away to do so. He took a look at the identification Booster had provided me and while pronouncing it "marginally adequate," he got on the comlink and soon had documents for me that appeared quite genuine.
"They are, Corran, quite genuine." My grandfather smiled at me. "They will pass the most rigorous inspection."
I looked at the identification card with my holegraph on it.
"Who is Jenos Idanian?"
"Originally? He was a small-time crook a bit older than you. He vanished, but his record was still on file. I adjusted details and the age to fit you better. You now have some youthful indiscretions in your background, including some ship-theft re-lated problems and some smuggling arrests. Not enough to mark you well-known, but enough to suggest you know what you are doing. For your purposes, Jenos has since reformed, partially because of his participation in the Rebellion, and now works as a broker selling used starships."
I thought for a moment, then nodded. The background was not so improbable that I couldn't slip into it. I add a run of bad luck that becomes bitterness about rich folks who have stolen my commissions, and I become a likely pirate candidate with skills they need. "You sure this Jenos isn't going to come look-ing for me?"
"Jenos hasn't been heard from for over twenty years. If he had surfaced, your father would have gotten him, since Hal was close to arresting him back then." Rostek Horn's smile dimin-ished only slightly. "I also have arranged for transport for you on the Tinta Lines Starship Tinta Palette. You will transfer in the Bormea system to the Tinta Rainbow and make your way to Coruscant. From there I suspect you can find your way to the Erant Venture and the Invids."
I frowned. "The Tinta ships are luxury liners and have their cruises booked months in advance."
"Siolle Tinta loves flowers, Corran." He plucked a bud from a small seedling. "She was happy to see to it that a friend of yours would be treated like family."
"While you might have gotten the death warrants for me quashed, there are still Imperial sympathizers here who wouldn't mind capturing me and selling me to High Admiral Teradoc or any other self-styled warlord. Shouldn't I be keeping a lower profile than shipping on a luxury liner?"
My grandfather laughed easily. "My dear boy, two things you must remember about Imperial sympathizers on CoreIlia: they would never believe any Rebel stupid enough to come to CoreI-lia in the first place, and, second, they would find it impossible to believe any Rebel would be able to afford luxury passage on a starliner. Imperial sympathizers here live in a fantasy world twenty years old. They think of the days of Moff Vorru as a golden age. Aside from a few CorSec officials, I doubt anyone knows you are a Rebel, and those officials would never lay a hand on you."
"Afraid of flowers?"
"A few. More remember your father very well."
"I see." I sighed. "I cannot tell you how much i appreciate wmr doing this for me. I've been a feel and I think you know it. l'd like to thank you for not having bashed me over the head with it."
He watched me closely, his grey eyes cooling off. "What have you been a feel about?"
"Becoming a Jedi in order to save Mirax. I've wasted so much time."
Rostek brushed his hands off, then posted his fists on his hips. "I should make this very clear for you, Corran. I don't think you've been a feel. What you've learned is what you needed to learn. It may well be that not everything you studied at the academy will help you find and save Mirax, but you could not have known that before. I saw Nejaa do many things to solve cases that had nothing at all to do with the Force or his training as a Jedi-except where that training made him a bet-tel' person. Going through that training and being able to make the decision you are to abandon it takes a maturity I've never seen in you before. Granted, your adventures with Rogue Squadron and your marriage to Mirax probably imparted much of the maturity to you; but you shouldn't devalue your training. Just because it did not take you where you wanted to go does not mean the journey was not good for you."
`Tin sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."
"You didn't. I hold memories of Nejaa Halcyon very dear. I consider my work here, preserving his knowledge of the Force, to be the greatest thing I could have done with my life; and I am glad that you will have access to it all. I'll even share it with your Luke Skywalker, if you wish." "Please."
He nodded. "Consider it done. I am very proud of you, Cor-ran, and whatever course you take in your life. Times may not have changed much here on CoreIlia, but your ability to survive in the maelstrom of the civil war amazes me."
I walked over and gave him a hug. "Again, thank you."
He smiled as we parted. "Oh, in your document package, along with the journal datacards I gave you, I included a copy of the CorSec files on that smuggler you asked about, Jori Car'das. Files were old-he disappeared almost as long ago as Jenos Idanian. I hope they are useful." "Me, too. They'll pay off a debt."
"Good." He glanced at his chronometer. "You'd best finish packing. Tosruk will speed you to the spaceport."
"One other thing I need to do, first." I reached back and opened the small satchel I'd set on the potting bench nearest the door. I drew out Nejaa Halcyon's lightsaber and presented the hilt to my grandfather. "A lightsaber is a Jedi's most prized possession-after his friends. I cannot take it with me becaus
e very few pirates wear them these days and, to be honest, I've not earned the right to wear it. I'm not Nejaa Halcyon. I'm not really a Jedi Knight. I want you to keep it, keep it safe, as you have his knowledge and his memory."
My grandfather accepted it carefully, as if it weighed fifty kilos. "It may seem odd, but this was the missing piece. For the time I knew him, this lightsaber was part of him, an instrument of justice. When he died and the lightsaber never came back with him, I felt justice had also vanished. Now, perhaps, it has returned."
A single tear rolled down his cheek. "You may be right that now is not the time for you to accept the Halcyon mantle, but when it is, this shall be waiting for you."
I left him there, alone in the greenhouse with his memories and the memories he had stored in the plants. Tosruk took me to the spaceport where I shipped out on the Tinta Palette, and now found myself, several days later, seated next to Keevy Spart, listening to the dismal story of his life. "You don't say," I said.
"Yes, yes, it's all true. I've collected every story I can find about Rogue Squadron and want to put together a history of the unit. I know all of the pilots' profiles, how many kills they had, where they came from...."
"What they look like..."
"Of course." He stared at me intently. "Have you ever met any of them?"
"Me'? No, not even in passing." I nodded toward the external viewport. "See the Rainbow yet?"
Keevy shut up and pressed his face against the viewport transparisteel. The shuttle, Tinta Blue Seven, had docked on the outside of the Palette, securely linked to the bigger ship by a docking collar. The shuttle's gangway extended down into the ship allowing the passengers to move up into the passenger compartments while ship's crew transferred our luggage to the shuttle's hold. Once everyone was aboard and the shuttle was ready to travel, we'd head over to the Tinta Rainbow and off-load ourselves through a similar docking arrangement. Rainbow passengers that wanted to join the Palette would be sent over on a different shuttle and both ships would proceed on their courses with a minimum of delay.
"I don't see anything yet." His position at the viewport added nasal tones to his voice. "Ship should be showing up soon, though."
"Well, then, I guess I'll take the opportunity to visit the cock-pit."
Keevy turned back and grabbed my arm. "Take me with you, please?"
"I don't know."
"Please?" He looked at me with pitifully large and sad brown eyes. "This is probably the only chance I'll get to see an AP127CP in a real shuttle."
I frowned at him. "You wouldn't touch anything, would you?"
His voice got small. "Nope."
"Maybe I'll talk to the captain for you. He should be getting on board soon." I twisted in my seat to get out and caught a flash of white in space outside. "In fact, I wonder what's keep-ing him. Is that the Rainbow?"
Keevy looked back outside. "Nope, looks like a Mark II Im-perial Star Destroyer, and a lot of little ships with it. Coming this way."
I got up from my seat and turned toward the flight attendant, but as I did so two men came running up the gangway and appeared in the front of the main cabin. Both wore blasters holstered on their hips and one, the bigger one, brandished a huge vibroblade. "Stay calm," the smaller one urged with up-raised hands. "Stay calm and no one will get hurt."
The flight attendant quieted two people as the smaller man waved me from the Premier cabin back with the rest of the passengers. Apparently he missed Keevy. "Glad you could join us. We're from the Invidious and we're here to relieve you of your wealth."
An older man pointed a palsied finger at the leader. "You were Laanars, my cabin steward."
Laanars took a quick step around to the starboard aisle, ap-proached the man and slapped him. "I was, you cheap pile of nerf-dirt. I did your scutwork because I knew this day was com-ing."
"You don't need to hurt anyone else." I kept my voice cool as I met his brown-eyed gaze. I stood in the portside aisle, looking at him across a block of three seats. "You're in control. You can take what you want."
"That's right, I am in control." Laanars' larger companion slipped past him and stood near the head of the starboard aisle. Laanars held up a hand and waggled his fingers. "Let's go, off with the jewelry. You don't surrender it, Biril here will show you why they don't let him work as a manicurist anymore."
I could feel the flood of anxiety gushing out of everyone and resorted to a quick Jedi technique to keep from being over-whelmed by it. I spread my senses out, expanding my sphere of responsibility to take in the whole of the shuttle. I wished I could reach out to everyone, inducing calm in them, or causing the two pirates to go to sleep, but I didn't have such skills. The best thing I could do, I knew from long experience in hostage situations, was to let the pirates have what they wanted.
Then I sensed Keevy tensing for an attack. Unseen, he'd worked his way across the Premier cabin and was set to spring on Biril. The pirate was big enough that I doubted he'd even feel the impact of Keevy's assault. With no effort at all, Biril would scrape Keevy off him, then probably carve the kid up just because he could.
And Keevy, having grown up his whole life wanting to be a hero, saw this as his chance.
He'd be a hero, all right-a dead one.
"Hey, sport," I called to Laanars. "This is a one-time offer.
Leave now, and you won't get hurt."
"Someone gets hurt, it won't be me." Laanars watched me closely. "Sit down and shut up."
I shrugged my shoulders and shook my hands out. "Any time you care to make me."
Laanars looked right and left, disbelief on his face. "How stupid can you be?" His right hand dropped to the butt of his blaster as he stared me right in the eyes. "You're dead."
Using the Force, I filled his mind with the image of his blaster being drawn and pointing straight at my forehead. I painted a look of terror on my face, but gave him the impres-sion that I'd been concealing a hold-out blaster up my right sleeve. He saw it appear in my hand and swing into line with his body. He had no choice. He pulled the trigger three times.
But his blaster hadn't yet slid even halfway from its holster.
All three shots struck him in the right thigh, collapsing the leg. He went down screaming and thrashed in the aisle. Biril ran toward him and crouched down, taking him out of Keevy's at-tack range. The larger man looked at his stricken comrade, then at me. "You're dead."
"Not likely." The Halcyon line might not have been strong in the ways of telekinesis, but it's never required much of an effort to slip the latch on an overstuffed cargo compartment. The panel snapped open and the Kuati's bundle came crashing down to hit Biril across the back of his shoulders. He angrily spun toward it, slashing with his vibroblade, then turned back toward me. By that time, however, I'd vaulted myself across the central seats and caught him in the chest with both feet.
He flew back, tripping and stumbling over the Kuati's satchel, just as Keevy came charging blindly in from the Pre-mier cabin. Keevy's forehead caught Biril square on the chin. The bigger man went limp and crashed down while Keevy caromed off him and landed sprawled across the laps of two young women.
I snatched up Laanars' blaster, flicked it to stun and pumped a shot into him. I fired two more into Biril. I turned and tossed the weapon to the flight attendant. "Can you retract the gang-way?"
She caught the gun and nodded hesitantly. "I can, but only on the captain's order."
I glanced at her nametag. "Okay, Annissya, you've got the order."
"Sir, I know you are qualified to fly one of these shuttles, but..."
I opened my hands. "There's more pirates coming, and your pilot likely isn't. I'd just as soon be out of here. We might as well make a run, because waiting here isn't going to do us any good."
She thought for a second, then nodded. "As ordered, Cap-tain Idanian."
I grabbed Keevy by his collar and hauled him from the laps of the two women who, from the looks on their faces, were convinced he'd saved them from certain dea
th. "You really know how to work an AP127 whatever?"
"The AP127CP?" His larynx bounced up and down as his voice cracked. "Yes, sir."
"You aren't lying, are you? Lives are at stake here."
He straightened up and assumed a pose he clearly thought of as military. "I can do it."
I smiled. "To the cockpit then, my boy. You wanted to fly in combat? This is gonna be it."
Star Wars - I, Jedi Page 31