Star Wars - Rebel Force 05 - Hostage

by Alex Wheeler

  He lacked every quality her father had possessed: nobility, courage, wisdom. Though he called himself a botanist, his main skill seemed to be currying favor. He grinned and nodded with greasy ease, laughing heartily at the weakest joke, complimenting the gaudiest gown. And yet Bail Organa had spoken of him privately with respect.

  "How are you?" Fess asked.

  "How do you think?" Leia snapped. Then she steadied herself. As a princess and a senator she'd grown adept at dealing gracefully with her enemies. And Fess wasn't an enemy, he was just a harmless parasite. "I'm fine," she said, more politely. "Thank you for helping us with those boys."

  Fess shook his head. "I can't stand to see children forced to make a life for themselves on the streets."

  He didn't sound like the Fess she remembered—but then, they were all different now.

  "We should be going," Leia said.

  "I'll come along," Fess suggested. "It's dangerous out here alone."

  "I'm hardly alone," she said, glancing at Chewbacca, who towered over the humans by several feet. The Wookiee rumbled in agreement.

  "I know this city," Fess argued. "I can be of assistance. Perhaps more than you know."

  Han snorted. "What is it with you old men and your delusions of grandeur?" he muttered.

  "Excuse me?"

  "You just reminded me of someone else who thought we could use his help," Han said. "Didn't end so well for him."

  "Perhaps he lacked my skill set," Fess said mildly. "But—as you wish."

  As they said their goodbyes, Leia wondered if she would ever see him again, and if she cared.

  She needn't have bothered. They were only a few blocks away when Han snuck a glance over his shoulder. "That's one stubborn old man."

  Leia stopped short. "He's following us?" She whirled around, but the streets were empty.

  "Ducks into an alley every time I look back," Han said. "Sneaky fellow, but not sneaky enough. Guess he doesn't know who he's dealing with, does he, Chewie?"

  The Wookiee barked a yes.

  "You want me to run him off?" Han asked.

  Leia shook her head, and began walking again. "If he wants to follow us so badly, let him."

  From everything she knew about Fess, she suspected his offers of assistance were as empty as his head. Still, there was a strange reassurance in knowing he was following her. As if some childish, irrational part of her believed what her father had once told her that no harm would come to her as long as Fess Ilee was alive.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "Fesssss," she hisses, laughing at the sound of it, wet and slimy like a Kowakian monkey-lizard. And that is what he looks like, she decides, with his greasy smile and those tufts of hair growing out of his big ears. "Fess the monkey-lizard."

  "Shhh!" Winter urges her. "They'll hear us."

  "Relax," Leia tells her best friend. "No one will find us here." They have hidden themselves at the edge of the grand ballroom, tucked behind a swooping marble staircase. Leia is supposed to be in the center of the room, swinging across the dance floor in a long ballgown of shimmersilk.

  But that was before she and Winter hid a giant wooly moth in the Minister of Agriculture's desk drawer. He deserved it—but Leia's father didn't see it that way. (Especially after the wooly moth chewed through a sheet of flimsiplast containing the budget for the whole next year.) Now she is banned from attending the party—but Leia has decided that doesn't mean she can't watch.

  It's more fun here, anyway. They have a pile of scavenged food, from t'iil seed cake to spiced grazer loaf. And from where they sit, they can easily hear all the silly people trying to impress her father. Leia is only eight years old, but she knows that grinning and nodding and agreeing with everything he says isn't the way to do it.

  They nibble on sticks of sweetened Oro bark and watch Groos Corado try to persuade Tasha Moore to dance. They giggle as brothers Cassio and Pol Prentiss argue about which of them cheats at greenputt. But worst of all is Fess Ilee. Leia has never heard anyone talk so much and say so little. No matter how many words spill out of his mouth, they all have the same meaning: Yes, you're right.

  She glares at him—then gasps, as he swivels his head toward her hiding place. His gaze travels over the heads of the crowd and locks onto her. She knows she is totally hidden—but she can't shake off the feeling that he knows she is there.

  "I'm bored," she whispers to Winter. "Let's get out of here."

  But when she slips out of her hiding place, she walks right into her father. And he is not happy.

  He doesn't yell. He simply banishes her to her room.

  Tomorrow, she is supposed to go with Winter to the gingerbell blossom festival, but now, according to her father, that is not going to happen.

  That's what he thinks.

  Leia waits until the house falls asleep. Then she opens her bedroom window and climbs onto the sill. Balancing carefully on the frame, she examines her options. There is a low hanging tree branch, its tip just out of reach. Even if she stretches as far as she can, it won't be enough. But if she jumps, she will be able to grab it. Unless she misses.

  She never misses.

  Leia launches herself at the branch, digging her fingers into the scratchy bark. She dangles for a moment, swinging her feet through the air, proud of her daring. Then, hand over hand, she pulls herself to the trunk and shimmies down to the ground.

  She runs across the dark and empty palace grounds, laughing into the night air. She is free.

  The city is different in the dark. The streets are abandoned. She doesn't know where she is going, but she doesn't care.

  She doesn't hear the footsteps, doesn't notice the shadow following her through the night.

  She is not afraid.

  "You sure this is the place?" Han asked, as they arrived at the coordinates Luke had given them. "It's a dump." It was a massive duracrete warehouse, surrounded on all sides by mounds of trash. Much of Leilani seemed broken down and abandoned—but this looked condemned.

  Leia glanced over her shoulder, but Fess had disappeared. She double-checked the coordinates. "This is it."

  They stepped inside.

  And into a nightmare.

  How did this happen? Leia thought in horror, forcing herself to look into the desperate, hopeless faces of her people. How could I let this happen?

  Since the destruction of Alderaan, she'd distracted herself with one Rebel mission after another, trying to bury her pain. Trying to forget.

  But she'd never intended to forget the people who had been left behind.

  "You were right, Manaa and Var Lyonn were hiding something," Luke said, appearing beside her. "This."

  The man next to him, young, though his hair was streaked with gray, extended a hand. "J'er Nahj," he introduced himself. "The Delayan government didn't want you to see the reality of our situation, but Luke here thought you'd want to know."

  "I ran into Nahj outside of the hotel," Luke said, giving the man an odd look. "He agreed to bring me here so I could see for myself."

  "More than seven thousand of us, Your Highness," Nahj said. "That we know of. The lucky ones had credits stored offplanet, or family and friends they could rely on. The less fortunate were taken in by the government, given houses and resources and put on display, to impress people like you. To make sure the money keeps rolling in. But here you see what happens to those with no luck at all. The ones who find themselves alone in the galaxy, everyone they ever knew and everything they ever had destroyed. The ones who can no longer afford to feed themselves—or the ones who can no longer muster the will to do it, because they would rather be dead. We're a drain on the Delayan economy. And worse, we're a reminder of unhappiness. It's easier to dump us here and forget about us. Makes it easier for everyone to move on."

  Leia clutched his hand. "I promise you this: No one is moving on. Not without you."

  Luke swung the landspeeder abruptly to the left, veering around a corner, straight through a lane clogged with traffic. A luxury spe
eder behind them slammed on its brakes just in time.

  "Luke, what are you doing?" Leia asked in alarm.

  "I told you not to let the kid drive," Han grumbled.

  J'er Nahj had offered them use of a landspeeder to return to the hotel. Luke didn't understand. "If you can afford a landspeeder, then can't you afford—" He broke off, looking around at the conditions in the warehouse, his question obvious.

  "I'm not here out of need," Nahj had said. "I'm here because these are my people."

  Luke knew he'd just come within meters of crushing Nahj's landspeeder (and its passengers), but it had been worth it. He'd confirmed his suspicions. "We're being followed," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the red SoroSuub X-31. It was keeping its distance, but it had matched everyone of Luke's twists and turns.

  Luke glanced at Leia, who still seemed a bit shaken up from what she'd seen at the warehouse. "We can contact Var Lyonn and have him waiting at the hotel with reinforcements," he suggested.

  "That probably is Lyonn," Han argued. "Or one of his men."

  "Maybe. Maybe not." With a dangerous smile, Leia narrowed her eyes at the SoroSuub speeder. "Let's find out."

  Luke pushed the landspeeder as fast as it would go, whooshing through the streets of the warehouse district. He took a hairpin curve at full speed, nearly flipping the vehicle on its side. The speeder shot down a back alley, then burst out the other side, nearly slamming into a giant borrat frozen in the middle of the road, its furry ears twitching as it stared into the oncoming traffic. Veering around it, Luke skidded across the sidewalk and plowed through a detour sign blocking off the entrance to a street crowded with construction equipment. He threaded the landspeeder through a serum of bulldozers and deactivated construction droids, his teeth rattling as the repulsorlifts bounced over the torn up road.

  Still, the red SoroSuub followed. Leia's plan called for them to look like they were trying to evade their pursuer, even as they drew him deeper and deeper into the abandoned district. As far as Luke was concerned, her rash "plan" was more like a death wish. It sounded like something Han would have come up with. So Luke wasn't just pretending to evade pursuit. He was determined to shake the guy.

  Just one problem: Whoever was following them seemed to anticipate Luke's every move.

  "Turn in here!" Leia barked, and Luke swung the landspeeder sharply to the right, ducking into a narrow, twisting alley. It dead-ended in a high, durasteel gate with sharp barbs running along the top. "Perfect," Leia said. "Stop."

  Luke groaned. What was so perfect about a dead end? But he obeyed her command and hit the brakes.

  "Remind me of this brilliant plan again, Your Worshipfulness," Han said. "We're going to get out of the landspeeder, wait for this guy, whoever he is, to catch up with us, and—what, exactly?"

  "And find out who he is and what he wants," Leia said. "You have a problem with that?"

  "Let's see," Han said. "It's risky, it's foolish, it's overconfident—"

  Chewbacca growled, and Han grinned at him. "Because you didn't let me finish, you overgrown fuzzball. I was about to say, sounds like my kind of plan."

  "That's what I'm afraid of," Luke muttered.

  The red SoroSuub pulled into the alley and drew to a stop.

  "Got your blaster ready, kid?" Han asked.

  Luke nodded. But I'll only use it if I have to, he thought, his hand straying to his lightsaber. According to Ben it was more effective than a blaster.

  Of course, Ben had known how to use it.

  A single figure slipped out of the red speeder, shrouded by the milky twilight. Han jumped out of the speeder, his blaster raised. Chewie followed, his bowcaster at the ready. Luke stayed in the speeder, determined to protect Leia at all costs. The man advanced with his arms out, no weapon drawn. Luke tensed. The man could be offering himself up in peace…or it could be a trap.

  Leia groaned and reached for the door. Luke grabbed her wrist. "You promised you'd stay in the speeder until we figured out what was going on."

  She shrugged him off. "I know what's going on." She pushed past him and climbed out of the speeder. Luke activated his lightsaber and rushed after her. "What are you doing, Fess?" she shouted. "You could have gotten us all killed."

  "I need to talk to you," Fess said, approaching. "This seemed the best way."

  Luke stepped in front of Leia and activated his lightsaber. "Next time, try a comlink."

  The man froze, all color draining from his face.

  "It's fine, Luke," Leia said from behind him. "It's just Fess. He's harmless."

  "Interesting weapon you have there," Fess said, in a choked voice. "Luke, did you say?"

  Luke glanced at Leia, ready to take her lead. She sighed, and her shoulders slumped.

  "He's a friend, Luke," Han said. Leia glared at him. "Well, not a friend, exactly," Han added hastily. "But he's no danger to us."

  "You want to talk, Fess?" Leia snarled. "Talk."

  But Fess wasn't looking at her. His eyes were locked on Luke. He extended a hand and—not knowing what else to do, Luke shook it. A strange current passed between them. Luke jerked his hand away.

  He reminds me of Ben, Luke thought. But that didn't make any sense. The two men had nothing in common. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been tall and gaunt, dressed in a ragged cloak, his frown hidden by a dense beard, his eyes piercing. Fess was nearly twenty years younger, his soft features rounded by a life of ease and plentiful food, clothed in fine robes, his face frozen in a false smile.

  There had been no falseness in Ben. And yet ...

  What is it? Luke thought, frustrated. He didn't know, if he was asking himself—or Ben. What is it about this man. This…

  "Ferus?" The word popped out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, as if someone else had spoken it.

  Fess took an abrupt step backward, growing even paler.

  "Ferus," Luke said again, filled with an inexplicable certainty. The word drifted through his mind like a whisper. He didn't know what it meant, but he somehow knew he was speaking truth.

  "No," Fess said, with quiet intensity. "Not anymore."

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ferus Olin.

  Not his name. Not anymore, not for a long time.

  He'd left it behind, the day he arrived in Alderaan's seemingly infinite sea of grass. Created a new life for himself. Not that it was much of a life, tending to the nerfs, wandering the grasslands, trying not to think about everything he'd lost. Trying not to imagine the accusing faces of the dead.

  Ry-Gaul. Solace. Garen Muln.

  And Roan. It was Roan Lands's face that he saw when he woke, Roan's voice he heard when he drifted off to sleep.

  Not that he slept much.

  He was hiding, he knew that. He'd tried fighting the Empire, tried fighting Darth Vader—and one bad decision after another had led here. To a life of isolation, a life that wasn't a life, but a mission.

  Protect Leia.

  Living like a hermit may have worked for Obi-Wan, stranded on a dusty desert planet in the middle of nowhere. But Alderaan was a world of life and crowds, swirling with social networks. A world of meaningful connections. Which might have appealed to him once, back when he was Ferus Olin—former Jedi, former Bellassan security expert, former resistance fighter, former enemy of the Empire.

  Now he was just former. He had made himself invisible, and invisible men can form no connection.

  Invisible men can, however, blend in. Gradually, Ferus gave up his life in the grasslands for a new life in the city. Took on a new identity. Fess, a repugnant name for a repugnant man. It was the only way to stay close to Leia. Disappearing in plain sight meant becoming what he hated most. A man who said nothing that mattered. A man who held no opinions except the opinions of whoever he was speaking to. A man who lived his life on the surface, so empty of purpose and thought, so inconsequential that no one could suspect he had anything to hide.

  He became a mirror, reflecting back what people wanted to see and hear, ke
eping his true self hidden so deeply he'd almost forgotten where to find it. And now Luke Skywalker, of all people, had found it for him. Had somehow found him.

  The Force was strong in Luke, but wild, like an untamed animal. And yet he had the lightsaber—Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber. Did he know the truth of its origin? Did he know about his father?

  Did his father know about him?

  No, Ferus thought. He'd already be dead.

  Or worse.

  Luke, Leia, and Han took him back to their quarters, treating him like a sick, weak old man. And maybe they're right, he thought, disgusted with himself. His Jedi training had made him adept at finding the calm center of any crisis. Yet here he was, allowing his emotions to overtake him, like an inexperienced Padawan.

  Still, if his weakness gained him more time with Leia—with Luke—perhaps it was worth it. And so he smiled and nodded and allowed them to believe he needed their help.

  "Luke Skywalker," he said, settling into a soft chair. "Unusual name." Luke and Leia hovered anxiously over him, while Han took a seat on the sofa. Across the room, another man leaned against the wall, casually scanning a datapad. At least, that's how the man wanted it to seem. But his dark eyes were fixed on Ferus, measuring his every move. "You're not from these parts, I suspect?"

  Luke shook his head, his familiar smile a faint, terrifying echo of the past.

  Anakin had smiled rarely when Ferus was around, but occasionally even Ferus had caught glimpses of the boy's easy charm. It had been an excellent mask.

  When they were boys together, Anakin had not yet taken his first steps down the path to the dark side. But there had always been something, hadn't there? Something only Ferus had sensed—something that called to the darkness.

  Leia is his child, too, Ferus reminded himself. But it wasn't the same. There was no darkness inside of Leia, only light.