Star Wars: The New Rebellion

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

The children had been very upset by the explosion in the Senate Hall. Luke had told him of the extent of their distress. He had been too distressed himself to see it.

  Chewie howled at him.

  “Yeah, I will check up on him,” Han said. “But first I want to know what’s happening on Coruscant. I can’t very well comfort the kid if—”

  Han stopped himself from saying anything about Leia. He couldn’t make assumptions about Coruscant. Just because the droids were meant for the center of government didn’t mean they had exploded there too.

  But the chances were that they had.

  He swiveled back toward the console, and hailed Leia on Coruscant. Almost immediately, Mon Mothma’s face appeared on his small screen.

  “Han,” she said. “We’d almost given up on you.”

  His hands were shaking. Chewie moaned softly. “I was looking for Leia, Mon Mothma.”

  Mon Mothma nodded. “Apparently you haven’t gotten her messages, then. She’s not here.”

  “She’s not?” Han’s mouth was dry. “Is she all right?”

  “As far as I know,” Mon Mothma said. “We’ve just discovered that she and Wedge took a fleet to Almania.”

  “Almania?” That was where those mysterious messages had come from. Where the man that Blue had talked about lived. Kueller seemed to be everywhere. “Why?”

  “The ruler there threatened the New Republic, and Leia in particular. He has Luke there as a prisoner.”

  “Luke?” Blue’s voice echoed in Han’s ear: He wants her and Skywalker gone. “She went after him?”

  “Until she got Wedge to go with her, what she did was her business, Han,” Mon Mothma said in her calm way. “She resigned.”

  “She resigned?” Each announcement hit him harder. How long had he been gone? Leia loved her post. She would never resign.

  Mon Mothma nodded. “She believes that Kueller—the Almanian ruler—is Force-sensitive. She thinks he has no real interest in the Republic. Instead his interest is in her and her family. She may be right. Would you like me to download his message to her?”

  “Yes,” Han said.

  Mon Mothma was about to sign off when Chewie moaned again.

  “Oh, right,” Han said. The degree of his upset showed when he couldn’t remember his initial fears. “Mon Mothma, is everything all right on Coruscant?”

  “The Imperials in the Council are in an uproar about Leia’s departure. They want you for treason, Han, because there is some evidence linking you with the Senate Hall bombing, and the local garbage workers have just gone on strike because of some confusion in their last three credit payments.” She grinned. “Business as usual, I would say.”

  He didn’t even want to think about the treason claim. It probably had to do with those messages Lando had told him about. “Anything with droids?”

  She frowned. “Now that you mention it, we got an odd message from Luke. He must have sent it before his capture or maybe just after since it was in code. It warned us to shut off all the new droids. I trusted the source and did. That’s started a whole new level of complaints. You should hear—”

  “You shut them down.” Han closed his eyes and let relief flood him. If Luke hadn’t warned them, all of Coruscant would be in the same kind of ruin that the Run was in.

  “Yes,” Mon Mothma said. “Is that significant? I was thinking of reactivating them. I simply can’t deal with that crisis on top of all the others.”

  “Don’t,” Han said.

  Chewie was yowling at the same time, saying the same thing in Wookiee.

  “We have a ship full of injured smugglers. The droids they had stolen from Coruscant exploded. In fact, Chewie will send you the signatures of several smuggling ships. They’ll need help finding medical facilities.”

  Mon Mothma’s normally calm features had gone a deadly pale. “They exploded? Is this what happened in the Senate Hall?”

  “I think so,” Han said.

  She took a deep breath, obviously settling herself. “Well, then, I guess we won’t reactivate them until we find the source of the problem. Thank you, Han.”

  “I wish I could say it was my pleasure. But I’ve got hundreds of dead and injured colleagues that somehow rob the moment of joy.”

  Mon Mothma nodded. She understood, perhaps better than most. “Han,” she said. “Leia perceives this threat from Almania as a personal one.”

  “I gathered that. Thanks, Mon Mothma.”

  “I’m sending the download,” she said, and signed off.

  Han glanced at Chewie. Chewbacca’s mouth formed a thin line, as thin as a Wookiee mouth could get. They were nearing Wrea. It had shown up in their cockpit transparisteel, a big blue-and-white ball about the size of Han’s fist.

  Chewie mumbled that he would handle the landing. Han thanked him, glad that the two of them had an understanding.

  Then he contacted Anoth, hoping to get Anakin. Instead Winter appeared.

  Han didn’t want to get his very creative young son in trouble with his nanny, so he grinned as widely as he could. “Winter,” he said, “you’re looking good.”

  “No sense charming me, General Solo,” she said. “I’ve already let Anakin know that no unauthorized communication leaves Anoth.”

  Han suppressed a shudder. Winter’s discipline, while firm, was never harsh. Still, even he jumped when Winter issued her ultimatums.

  “But between us,” she said, “the children have been quite distraught. I gave them permission to reach their mother, but she has left on some mission. Their uncle Luke is also unavailable.”

  “This is Force-related, then?”

  Winter nodded. “They’ve all had the same experience, like the one they had before the bombing in the Senate Hall. And Anakin claims he has seen a dead man, over and over again.”

  “Let me speak to him,” Han said.

  “As you wish, sir.” Her voice didn’t have the disapproval her words implied. She was a wise woman, and probably a better parent to his children than either he or Leia was. She was with them all the time. Han had no qualms about the arrangement. Only a few stabs of guilt daily that he wasn’t with his children as much as he should be.

  Anakin’s small face appeared on the screen. His resemblance to Luke always startled Han. That, and his son’s blue eyes, which had more intelligence in them than Han had seen in any being, human or otherwise.

  “Winter already said I shouldn’ta called you.”

  Han smiled, hoping that the smile was reassuring. “No, Anakin. You can always contact me. Just let Winter know first.”

  His son nodded. He looked very subdued. Even the worst of Winter’s scoldings never brought this.

  “What’s happening?” Han asked. “What scared you so?”

  “Can’t find Mama,” Anakin said. “Jacen and Jaina say she’s all right, though. We’d know.”

  “She is all right,” Han said. “She’s on a trip right now. She’ll be back soon.”

  Anakin rubbed his left eye with his fist. He clearly hadn’t been getting much sleep. “I know,” Anakin said. “She’s going to see the dead man.”

  Han glanced at Chewie, who shrugged.

  “He comes in my dreams. He says he will get us. He can’t get us, can he, Papa?”

  “No,” Han said, feeling an anger so deep that he could barely hold it in. “You’re safe on Anoth.”

  “They got here once,” Anakin said.

  Han remembered. Winter and a nanny droid had saved his infant son’s life. He was surprised that Anakin remembered. But then, nothing Anakin did should surprise him. “Winter saved you. That’s what she’s there for.”

  “I wish you were here.”

  “I do too, son,” Han said. Then Jacen and Jaina crowded into the picture and demanded some of his time. He gave them what he could. Chewie growled a warning. Han looked up. Wrea filled the cockpit transparisteel.

  “Put Winter back on, would you, guys?” he said. They protested but drifted off, all except Anakin, who
watched from the side, looking more serious than Han had ever seen him.

  “Winter,” Han asked. “Have you any droids there?”

  “We shut them off, per Master Skywalker’s instruction.”

  Luke was way ahead of him. Thank every lucky piece Han had ever owned.

  “Keep them off,” Han said. “And Anakin, no fooling with the droids at all. Okay, son?”

  Anakin nodded. No protest, no nothing. That wasn’t like his youngest son. Then Anakin said, “Papa?”

  Winter stepped aside. Apparently she was as worried about Anakin as Han was.

  “What, little Jedi?”

  “The dead man says he’ll kill Mama.”

  Han smiled, even though his anger deepened. “The dead man has no right telling you lies in your dreams. I’m going to your mother right now. She’ll be just fine.”

  “He almost killed her the first time,” Anakin said, his voice small.

  Han started. The Senate Hall, the droids, the messages, everything traced to Kueller. “Maybe he thinks that,” Han said, “but your mom is one of the toughest people I know. He scared her. He scared all of us. But he didn’t ‘almost kill’ her.”

  “She was hurt.”

  “Yes,” Han said. “She was. This ‘dead man’ of yours isn’t very nice. But we’ll get him, and we’ll make him stop giving you dreams.”

  “Promise, Papa?”

  “I promise,” Han said. “You be careful, Anakin, okay? Listen to Winter.”

  Anakin nodded. “Love you, Papa.”

  Han glanced at Chewie. Chewie stared at the controls as if he weren’t listening to the exchange.

  “Me, too, kid,” Han said. It was the best he could do in front of Chewie. “See you soon.”

  And then he signed off.

  Chewie muttered. Han glanced at the readings. They had almost arrived. And not a moment too soon. The pain-filled sounds in the back were growing fainter. Han didn’t want to think about how many of his passengers were already dead.

  Kueller was even going after his children. At least, he assumed the dead guy of Anakin’s dreams was Kueller. There seemed to be no other explanation.

  Whoever he was, this Kueller had Force abilities. And he already held Luke prisoner. Which meant he was strong in the Force.

  Like Vader.

  Han clenched his fists. He had never been any match for Vader. The man had hurt him at every turn. The abilities that Luke, Leia, and the children possessed sometimes looked like magic to him.

  But sometimes magic could be used against its owner.

  “Chewie, see if you can find Mara Jade for me. Lando says she’s with Talon Karrde. Tell them I need their help.”

  Chewie growled a query.

  Han grinned at him. “A plan? Of course, I have a plan. Have you ever known me not to?”

  Artoo-Detoo had several dents, but he had sustained no real damage. Some of the R5 units near him had clearly been damaged in their falls. Broken headlamps, shattered jacks, destroyed control panels were the most visible. He suspected there was even more he couldn’t see.

  When he first arrived, he had beeped several inquiries, and received no response. Then the R5 next to him had moaned softly. That had started the conversation. The beeping in the room was so loud that it registered above the human tolerance level. These droids hadn’t talked with each other—some of them—in years. This room had existed for a long, long time.

  Artoo bleeped and blatted, answering questions, and asking some of his own. The droids listened, then beeped some more. The whole room had the feeling of a political meeting. More and more droids stood. Others dusted each other off. Still others extended arms, opened their neighbors’ panels, and pulled out the detonators, tossing them to the ground. The crunching of detonators rose over the beeping din.

  Then, slowly, the droids cleared a path for Artoo. As he slowly wheeled through their ranks, a few R2 models slid to the front of the line. They were the same model, make, and year as he was. They were rocking back and forth with excitement. Several other R2 units had picked up the rocking.

  As more and more detonators appeared, older droids stood and reinitialized. An R5 picked up the rocking, followed by an R1. Soon most of the older droids were rocking and beeping, while the remaining detonators were pulled from the newer astromech units.

  Artoo made his way to the opening, whistling an invitation to the others. An R5 unit jacked into the computer panel near the door, and slowly the door slid back.

  The hallway outside was dark.

  Then another sound rose over the beeping. It was the sound of rolling wheels. Artoo swiveled his head. All the R2 units of his generation were following him. Several R5’s were also in the mix, and so were a few R6’s.

  Then he reached the door and went through. A loud chorus of whistles rose from the room—a droid cheer. Artoo joined in, and then stopped at what he saw when the hallway lights came on.

  Ten red droids, their oddly colored metal forms glistening in the artificial light. They had laser cannons pointing out of their chests, blasters instead of fingers, and flat eyes showing the intellectual capacity barely above a binary load lifter.

  The other droids backed away from Artoo, and he faced the Red Terror alone.

  Forty-six

  The Millennium Falcon came out of hyperspace almost on top of the Wild Karrde. Han swerved quickly to miss Talon Karrde’s ship, infinitely relieved that he no longer had passengers. Still, Chewbacca swore loudly and creatively in Wookiee, using descriptive terms Han wished he didn’t have to think about.

  He braced himself against the communications console, and jabbed it with his finger. “What the hell do you think you were doing?” No greeting, no nothing. He was too angry for that. Karrde had been careless.

  Han was tired of carelessness.

  Karrde’s deep voice answered. “Fine greeting for someone you asked to help you.”

  “When giving rendezvous coordinates, the normal procedure is to put a little distance between the ships,” Han said. “We all could have been killed.”

  “It’s a lot worse out there,” Karrde said. “Your fleet is taking a pounding, and I’m not going to stay.”

  Chewie flicked on the long-range sensors, and the battle screen. Han could see only the Wild Karrde through the cockpit transparisteel, but the long-range battle screen showed the fleets. The blips looked very close to each other, and almost indistinguishable. It looked as if both Kueller and Leia had large forces.

  And it didn’t look as if things were going well.

  The urgency Han felt tripled.

  “You got what I need?” he asked.

  “I hope you have the credits to pay for them,” Karrde said.

  “You know, just once, Karrde, you should donate your services.”

  Karrde grinned. “I would never get rewarded as richly as you have, Solo.”

  “Believe it or not, Karrde, I never did any of this for the reward.”

  “I believe it, Solo. And every once in a while, I donate my services too. Mara’s outside with your ysalamiri. Say thank you.”

  Han hadn’t expected Karrde’s quick capitulation. It made him instantly suspicious. “Yeah, ah, thanks,” Han said. He waved a hand at Chewie. “Go let her in.”

  Chewbacca was already out of his seat.

  Han turned back to Karrde. “You’re letting Mara come with us?”

  “I’ve got no need for her. Seems she has some interest in what happens to Skywalker. Says you might need her.”

  “She knows this Kueller, then?”

  “I doubt it.” Karrde’s pet vornskr put its face near the screen. The creatures were ugly, even from a distance. “I think it’s more personal than that. She’s been having daylight dreams. She thinks she’s hiding them from me, but she’s not.”

  “Kueller’s after her too.”

  Karrde nodded. “I’m beginning to think the phrase, ‘May the Force be with you’ is a curse.”

  “I sure hope not,” Han
said. “The Force has been with me for years now. My family’s steeped in it.”

  “You know what the ysalamiri will do, don’t you?”

  Han grinned. “That’s why I want them. Thanks, Talon.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Karrde said. “I mean that.”

  The outside hatch snapped shut, and Han could hear Mara’s voice in the passageway. He got out of the cockpit and went around the lounge area to the top hatch.

  Mara Jade’s lithe dancer’s figure filled the hallway. Her green eyes blazed as she thrust the nutrient cage with the ysalamiri at Han. “Keep these things far away from me,” she said.

  He had never liked her much. She had always been abrasive, and not in the pleasurable way he found Leia’s occasional rough edges to be. He could never forget that Mara Jade had once been Emperor Palpatine’s secret weapon and trusted confidant, the Emperor’s Hand. Luke claimed that her hatred had been implanted and that she never really believed in the Empire. But Han’s world didn’t have as much gray in it as Luke’s. Mara Jade once worked for the Empire. Therefore he would never really trust her.

  “If you didn’t want to be near them,” he said, “then you should have left with Karrde.”

  She shook her head, and then put a slim hand against her forehead. The ysalamiri affected her Force senses. Han had heard about this but never really seen it. He’d only had Luke’s descriptions. “I’ve been seeing Luke on a sandstone street, burning alive.”

  Her husky voice sent chills through Han. “Can you see the future?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so,” she said.

  “Chewie,” Han said, “put the ysalamiri in the cargo bay. I hope that’ll be distance enough for you, Mara. This ship isn’t very big.”

  “It’ll have to do,” she said.

  Chewbacca took the cage, and disappeared toward the back of the Falcon.

  “Why did you really come?” Han asked.

  She swallowed. Her color was poor. Luke said the ysalamiri pushed the Force away from themselves, creating a bubble in which the Force did not exist. He said it was like suddenly going blind and deaf. Han thought of it as leveling the playing field. In the Force bubble, a Jedi Knight had no more powers than a normal person.