“Technically,” Wedge said. “There are always ways around that, as you well know.”
“But she doesn’t dare. The Imperials in the Senate will crucify her.”
“They won’t know if we do it soon,” Wedge said. “The fleet will be long gone by the time they object.”
“And then they’ll throw her out. Wedge, this is precisely the kind of thing I wanted to prevent when I asked her to take my place.”
“Trust Mon Mothma, Leia. She managed to unify a diverse group of Rebels and make them into a real government. She has a devious side.”
That caught Leia. She frowned. “What’s her plan?”
“To let us go. The ships are already being prepared. She believes we need to get rid of this Kueller as quickly as we can. Under your leadership, we can do that, Leia.”
“What’s so devious about that?”
“If we win, you’ll get the credit. It will stop the no-confidence vote when you return. It’ll allow you to remain Chief of State.”
“And if we lose?”
“She denounces us. We become rogues who went off on our own, trying to save the New Republic, and failing.” Wedge leaned toward her, his expression sincere. “If we fail, Leia, our reputations won’t matter.”
“They will to my children,” Leia said.
“Your children will be protected. Mon Mothma knows how precious they are. It’s lucky that they’re not on Coruscant for this. It means Mon Mothma can manipulate the information any way she wants.”
“A fleet,” Leia said, the plan slowly sinking in. With a fleet, she might actually have a chance. Kueller would expect her to give in, or to wait for his next message. If he knew her as well as he thought he did, he might even guess that she would try to rescue Luke. But he would never imagine a fleet. “What about the X-wings?”
“Most are unusable,” Wedge said, “but we’ve rebuilt a few. Mostly the team will be relying on Headhunters, A-wings, B-wings, and Y-wings.”
“This sounds like a large fleet,” Leia said.
“Luke’s important.”
She smiled softly. “And Mon Mothma reviewed the holocording, and believes that Kueller is a big threat. You forget how often I’ve fought at her side, Wedge. She has never believed in sitting still. She believes in fighting. She believes in having the advantage of surprise.”
“Then we’d better get moving,” Wedge said. “Do you want to fly in the flagship?”
Leia shook her head. “I’ve never been a military commander, Wedge. You have the charge of this mission. I’m taking Alderaan. Let me focus on Luke. You can remind Kueller that we took down the Empire. A small, petty demagogue on a faraway planet poses no threat to us at all.”
“You don’t believe he’s that weak, do you?” Wedge asked.
“No.” Leia smiled ruefully. “I think he’s one of the worst threats we’ve ever faced.”
Thirty-three
The water churned with blasterfire. As Han dove under the water, Chewie grabbed Wynni’s bowcaster. Han didn’t see if Chewie was able to wrestle it from her. Instead, he swam deep, grabbed Zeen’s legs, and tugged him under.
Zeen immediately kicked at him, but Han hung on. He pulled with all his strength, and got Zeen next to him. Zeen’s blaster slowly sank beside them. Zeen flailed at Han with his arms. Han just clung. His lungs burned from the struggle, but Zeen’s mouth was open. He wouldn’t last as long as Han.
Zeen’s fist connected with Han’s chin, but the water softened the blow. Han put his hands on Zeen’s shoulders and shoved him downward. Zeen grabbed for Han but missed. The momentum of the water, and the sinkhole, pulled Zeen deeper.
Han swam to the surface. Lando had Kid in an armlock, and they were struggling, both going under then coming up and spitting out water. Laser bolts were sizzling the water all around them. Chewbacca was firing Wynni’s bowcaster at the Glottalphibs. One lay dead on the ledge, while another floated facedown on the pond, a black stain swelling around its body. The other Glottalphibs were shooting fire at the water, boiling it. The heat was incredible. Han couldn’t tell if his face was covered with pond water or sweat.
Nandreeson was firing at them with his blaster. Wynni was unconscious, but floating on her back in the scummy water, her snout safely in the air.
Han grabbed the blaster out of Kid’s hands, punched him in the face, and pushed him under as he had Zeen. Then Han grabbed Lando and pulled him up.
“Breathe, buddy.”
Lando was breathing, hard, but he nodded and swam free. Han handed him the blaster, and then grabbed his own blaster from its pouch around his waist. He was treading water and firing at the remaining Glottalphibs, aiming for the centers of the mouths.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lando float on his back, take aim, and blast the ceiling.
Han whirled, about to tell him not to waste his shots, when a million watumba bats swooped down. Chewbacca roared, and immediately covered his head with his paws. The bats dove at the water, into the smoke, and then followed the flames.
The Glottalphibs started honking in unison and slapping at the bats with their tiny arms. The fire stopped. Nandreeson slid under the water and Han started after him, when Lando grabbed his arm.
“Don’t,” Lando said. “He wants us under there so he can kill us better.”
The bats were eating the fire as they made their way toward the remaining Glottalphibs. The first bats had already reached one Glottalphib, and flew into its mouth. The Glottalphib’s honking got louder and louder as more bats covered it. Suddenly it stopped honking. It fell over backward, squashing some bats. The others flew away, leaving a gray, desiccated Glottalphib. The three other Glottalphibs were fleeing down the tunnel, honking in fear.
Han shoved Chewie’s back. “They’re watumba bats, you big baby. They eat algae, insects, and fire, not Wookiees.”
Chewie mewled at him.
“Come on,” Lando said. He started to swim forward when he stopped as if a rope were tied around his foot. “I don’t like this—”
And then he went under.
“Nandreeson!” Han said. He dove too. Nandreeson had Lando by the foot and was watching him flail. Han grabbed Lando’s hand and pulled, but Lando wasn’t moving. Han held a finger to his lips, mimed holding still, and went back to the surface.
“Give me the bowcaster,” Han said.
Chewie roared.
“We don’t have time to argue. Nandreeson’ll kill him.”
Chewie whined, then dove, loading the bowcaster as he went. Han swam around Lando’s front, stopping a few meters from Nandreeson and then kicking at the Glottalphib’s snout.
Lando was turning red. He mimed strangulation. Han ignored him. He kicked Nandreeson again, and Nandreeson roared. As he opened his mouth, an energy quarrel bubbled through the water and lodged in the back of Nandreeson’s throat.
Fire spewed from his mouth, instantly doused by the water. He let go of Lando’s leg and Lando swam for the surface. Nandreeson made burbly strangling sounds, grabbed at his mouth, and sank deep into the muck.
Han didn’t wait to see any more. He tugged Chewie’s suit and together they swam to the surface. Lando was already climbing the stairs. He reached the ledge, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
“I never thought I’d be able to sit again.”
“We’re not done yet,” Han said. He had to grip the rock sides as he climbed. The stairs were slippery.
“Indeed we’re not,” Blue said. She was standing on the ledge behind them, clinging to the wall. “Have you thought about how we’re going to get back to my Skipper?”
Chewie roared at her.
She shrugged in response.
“Playing both ends against the middle, Blue?” Han asked, essentially rephrasing Chewie’s remark in more polite terms.
Blue smiled prettily at him. “I did think it was in my best interest to see who was going to win that little skirmish, don’t you, Han?”
“I think if we could’ve tr
usted you, you’d’ve been here fighting for us, Blue.”
“Don’t expect too much of the girl,” Lando said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “At least she didn’t shoot at us.”
“See, Han? One man understands my side.”
“He won’t when he sees pieces of the Lady Luck all over your Skipper.”
Lando opened his eyes and sat up. “You raided my ship? Hand me the blaster, Han. The woman deserves to die.”
Blue held open her hands, her blaster gripped only in her right thumb and forefinger. “I thought you were dead. Nandreeson wasn’t going to let you live.”
“You have no faith, Blue,” Lando said.
“You’d have done the same,” she said.
“She’s got you there,” Han said.
“Maybe before Cloud City,” Lando said. “I’m a good guy now.”
“A careless good guy.” Han sat beside him. “What did you come here for?”
“Came to get you, buddy. Heard you were in some trouble. Thought I’d help.”
“We can discuss your personal life later. I just want to know how you plan to get out of here,” Blue said.
“How’d you get on the rock?” Han asked.
“Climbed,” she said. “You missed the handholds near the cavern door.”
Chewie roared his agreement. He sloshed his way up the stairs, stood over Han, and howled.
“All right, all right, we’ll leave,” Han said.
“How do you plan to get out of here?” Lando asked.
Why did everyone think he always had a plan? Han sighed. “I thought maybe you knew where Nandreeson’s favorite Skipper was.”
“He brought me in it, but he left a few Reks beside it.”
“They should be gone by now,” Blue said. “They hate watumba bats as much as Glottalphibs do.”
“Not accurate, Blue,” Lando said. “Glottalphibs love watumba bats. They’re host to half a dozen Glottalphib delicacies. They just hate it when watumba bats notice them.”
Blue laughed. “Good point.”
Chewie was already sloshing his way to the cavern door. He stopped on a wide ledge and stripped out of the suit Wynni had given him, tossing it into the pond with an expressive and extremely vulgar Wookiee curse.
Blue glanced at Wynni. “Think she’ll be all right?”
Chewbacca added another sentiment to the one he’d just expressed.
“Let’s drag her onto the ledge,” Han said. “At least she’ll have a fighting chance when Nandreeson’s henchmen return.”
Chewbacca cursed again, then stomped across the ledge and used a nearby stick to pull Wynni to the water’s edge. He reached down and hauled her out, grunting as he did so.
“Nice of you, Chewie. I thought I would have to nag,” Han said.
Chewbacca growled.
“You know,” Lando said softly, “you once told me never to make a Wookiee angry.”
“Right,” Han said.
“You seem to ignore that advice fairly regularly.”
“He owes me a life debt,” Han said. “It would be dishonorable for him to kill me.”
“I suppose,” Lando said, “but would that stop him from ripping off your arms?”
“It has so far,” Han said, “but let’s not give him any ideas, shall we?”
Chewbacca growled again, then left Wynni’s side. She was still unconscious, but Han could see her pink-covered chest moving up and down. Blue stepped over her gingerly. Despite soaking in filthy water, Blue looked fresh and dignified. Even her wet hair looked planned.
She was clutching her blaster and used her other hand to guide her along the rock wall. “Where’s the Skipper?” she asked.
“Two tunnels up,” Lando said. “I’ll lead the way.”
He looked as if he couldn’t move a muscle. Han had never seen Lando’s skin so gray. But Lando climbed across the rocks as if he hadn’t been exercising at all. Apparently the thought of freedom appealed to him.
“What about the other Glottalphibs?” Han asked.
“I don’t think we have to worry about them,” Lando said.
Han joined him in the cavern door. Dozens of Glottalphibs were sprawled on the rocks and in the pond. Most of their long snouts were open, and the insides picked clean.
“Watumba bats did that?” Han asked. “Why would the Glottalphibs keep them around?”
“Sometimes you have to take risks for a good meal,” Lando said.
The stench of smoke, dead Glottalphib, and rotting greenery was overpowering.
Chewie began to growl.
“I know, I know,” Han said. “It stinks.”
“That’s an understatement,” Blue said. She had her hand over her nose. “I don’t want to be here when these things decay.”
They picked their way across the bodies. The opening into the next cavern was also full of Glottalphib bodies, and five Skippers, all of which were unattended.
Blue smiled. “Reks. You’ve gotta love them. They only think of themselves.”
“Rather like you, huh, Blue?” Han said.
She patted his shoulder. “I do a good deed now and then, Solo. I didn’t have to bring you here.”
He moved her hand away from him. “You could have worked harder to rescue me, Blue. I saved your life.”
“A favor for a favor, Han. I figured we were even at that point.”
Lando and Chewie were looking at the Skippers. “This one is ready to go,” Lando said. “If you know how to hot-wire these things.”
“There’s always an access code,” Blue said. “And with Nandreeson, it should be obvious.”
She pushed them aside, and studied the small voice monitor.
“You don’t think it has voice recognition, do you?” Han asked.
Blue laughed. “All Glottalphibs sound alike.” She tapped the edge. “What are Nandreeson’s favorite things, Lando?”
“Why ask me?” he said. “I hadn’t seen the man for years.”
“I thought you’d know his obsessions,” she said.
“I only knew of one,” Lando said.
“All right.” She leaned against the jamb and said, “Kill Calrissian,” in a remarkable approximation of a nasal Glottalphib voice.
The door slid back. She grinned. “Well, gentlemen, let’s go back to Skip 1 and see if they stripped the Falcon in our absence.”
Threepio and Artoo-Detoo had returned to the Solos’ chambers to discover that Leia had left. The computer informed them that she had resigned her position as Chief of State and had given orders to shut down the apartments until a family member returned, then it threw the droids out.
Mon Mothma had replaced Mistress Leia, and the droids were in her anteroom now, along with a collection of senators’ aides, well-wishers, and employment seekers. The antechamber was packed. Threepio leaned against the wall, next to a metal sculpture that looked suspiciously like a droid’s innards, and Artoo rocked beside him. They were the only droids, except for the receptionist droid, a new model who refused to acknowledge Threepio at all. On her list, she kept adding the sentients first, from the Kloperian guard Leia had relieved of duty (and from whom Artoo had hidden behind an Ychthytonian) to a winged Agee that had flown into the room on a lark.
When the Kloperian went into Mon Mothma’s chambers, Artoo began rocking. Hard.
“Settle down, Artoo,” Threepio said. “I’m sure Mon Mothma will see us. She knows how important we are.”
Artoo whistled and the conversation in the room stopped. Heads swiveled, and focused on the droids. Threepio put his hands up as if nothing had happened, and the conversations resumed. Except for the receptionist. She continued to stare at Threepio as if he had committed a major breach of etiquette.
“Now you’ve done it,” Threepio said. “Your rudeness will get us tossed out of here.”
Artoo cheebled and rocked, his wheels clanging on the tile floor.
“That is a bit melodramatic, even for you. No one is going to die simply because we�
�re waiting in line.”
Artoo blatted at him, and the Ychthytonian looked down at him.
“Yer little friend is kind of agitated.”
Threepio nodded. “He believes we’ve found—”
Artoo shrilled.
The Ychthytonian put all four hands over his ears. Some of the humans cringed. The Agee flew out of the room as quickly as she had arrived.
“That’s it,” the receptionist droid said as she stood. “You droids can leave.”
“See what you’ve done?” Threepio hissed at Artoo. “Now I have to go convince her that we should stay. It won’t be an easy battle, what with all the names you’ve called her: Most droids, no matter what their designation, dislike being termed traitor, you know. She’s only doing her job, and rather well at that, if I might say so.”
He left Artoo’s side and pushed his way to the desk. The receptionist droid was standing, her bronze arms crossed. “You have no business here,” she said. “The President is only dealing with important matters today.”
“This is important,” Threepio said.
“I’m certain it is to you,” the receptionist said. “But whatever the problem is, it can wait.”
“I’m afraid it can’t,” Threepio said. He lowered his voice. “You see, my counterpart and I have found the cause of the bombing in the Senate Hall. We were going to report this to President Leia Organa Solo, but she has stepped down. So we came to her successor.”
“Delusional,” the receptionist said. “They really should have retired your make a generation ago. I had heard that your type was given to hyperbole. I hadn’t believed it until now.”
“This is not hyperbole!” Threepio said, pulling himself up to his fullest height. “This is fact. You should know the difference.”
“If you don’t move from my desk, I shall have you removed by force,” the receptionist droid said.
“You will not,” Threepio said. “I am the personal droid of President Leia Organa Solo, and my counterpart belongs to her brother, the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. We are above your petty bureaucratic power gambits. If you tamper with us, you’ll be tampering with some of the most important people in Coruscant.”
Star Wars: The New Rebellion Page 31