"Yes, Dad," Jaina and Jacen replied in unison as Anakin nodded, wide and solemn.
"Good," Han said. "Now, I want to borrow your mother for just a second, and then I have to go back to the cockpit, so I won't see you again until after we're in Corellian space.
So behave yourself until then. Okay?"
Han was rewarded with a ragged chorus of "okays" and nodded. He led leia out into the corridor and shut the hatch to the lounge behind them.
"What is it, Han?" she asked, before he even had a chance to speak.
"What's what?" he asked, a little baffled by her rather clipped tone of voice.
"What is it that has had you worried since before we left?"
Out of reflex more than anything else, Han threw a big, lopsided grin on his face, and got all set to deny it all. But then he stopped, and let the smile fade away. This was his wife. This was the mother of his children. More to the point, this was Leia Organa Solo, Chief of State of the New Republic, war hero, strong in the Force, and capable of being every bit as ruthless as a Noghri assassin. He couldn't play the fool with her and have the slightest hope of getting away with it.
Besides, it would be wrong to try. It was his duty to play it straight, and there was nothing more to be gained by his pretended things were fine. Not when it was plainly obvious he wasn't fooling her.
"I don't know what's wrong," he said, "but something is. I didn't see any point in worrying you when I didn't know anything in the first place. An NRI agent approached me a few days ago and said their agents in the Corellian Sector weren't checking in. That was the one piece of hard information I got out of her. I don't think she knew much more herself."
"So why come and tell you that?" leia asked.
"They wanted me to draw attention to Corellia, act suspiciously. Make whoever it is look in my direction so maybe the heat wouldn't be on their people."
"I don't see any need to ask you that either," Leia said.
"I can't remember the last time you didn't draw attention or act suspiciously." Han smiled, but knew she had a point. "I know. No Corellian local bad guy would ever believe I was just a tourist. They'd have to watch me."
"So what's the point of NRI asking you to do what you'd do anyway so the opposition will do what they'd do anyway?"
"I've been thinking on that," Han said. "I think it was a warning. Looking back on it, I'm not so sure this agent was authorized to tell me what was up."
"A warning of what?"
"That we might just be about to walk into a bad situation.
I don't know. A half-dozen times since then, I've almost canceled the whole trip. But if the NRI felt the chief of state's family shouldn't go somewhere, they'd say so. I think the agent was trying to tell me to be careful. I don't think she was trying to say we were in danger."
Icia sighed and leaned back against the bulkhead.
"That's it?" she asked. "Nothing beyond that to get you worried?"
"Well, one other thing. Five minutes after she left, Chewie spotted a probe droid snooping around. We made a try for it, but this particular probe droid shot back instead of self-destructing. Chewie nailed it just before it nailed me. I don't think it had a chance to report in before it died, and I don t think we said all that much of interest in the first place."
Leia raised an eyebrow. "I thought I noticed something burned smelling when you came home that night."
"I don't know why I bother trying to fool you," Han said.
"Well, don't try. Was there anything else? Nearly getting killed by a probe droid is bad enough, but is there more that's got you worried?"
"Nothing besides the fact that it's Corellia," Han said.
"But that's enough to make me want to find reasons to bail out. The place has the politics of a snakepit."
"That's why I'm headed there in the first place," leja said. Leia had managed to avoid most of the demands for her to appear at this planet's coronation or give a speech at that planet's university commencement, or rush out and settle this diplomatic tiff or stomp out that minor political brush fire. It had taken a lot of time and determination on her part to get things running so that she wasn't being hauled off to every ribbon-cutting and every jurisdictional fuss throughout the New Republic.
The very fact that she had agreed to go to Corellia showed how important the place was-and how difficult it was going to be to straighten things out. But if they could open Corellia back up to trade and normal relations with the rest of the Core Sectors, it would be an incredible breakthrough.
It would resolve half the New Republic's diplomatic problems at a stroke. Ieia's very presence sent a signal, telling everyone just how much importance the New Republic attached to resolving the Corellian situation.
However, it also raised the trip's visibility level that much more. It meant the stakes, which had been high, were suddenly that much higher. The dangers were too hypothetical, too unclear, to allow them to interfere. Besides, the dangers might not even exist outside the fertile imagination of a junior NRI agent.
"We have to go in, don't we?" Han asked.
"But we don't have to like it,', Leia said. "It's almost time," she said. "You'd better get back forward and start getting ready." Han let out a sigh. "Right," he said. He gave her a kiss and headed back to the cockpit, but hesitated just outside the sealed hatch. He felt a strange sort of relief now that he had told her. The danger-if there was danger-hadn't decreased at all, but at least the secret was out. He didn't like keeping things from Leia.
But enough of that. Han wasn't much interested in introspection in general, and right now he had other things to worry about. He slapped at the button, the hatch slid open, and Han dropped, rather heavily, back into the pilot's chair.
It was time to go to work.
* * * Han checked the navicomputer's countdown clock again.
They were getting close. Only a few more minutes until the drop out of hyperspace. Chewie had checked over all the crucial systems twice, paying special attention to defense and weapons. Short of pulling into a spacedock and doing visual checks, they were as ready as they were going to be.
And so, presumably, were their friends in Corellia No doubt they knew the Falcon's arrival coordinates every bit as well as the Falcon's own navicomputer. Maybe better, given the computer's somewhat checkered history in the reliability department. If there were any surprises-to put it more baldly, if there was someone interested in assassinating the chief of state-they would almost certainly make their moves moments after the ship dropped out of hyperspace.
So why let them? Why take the chance? What point in following Corellian Traffic Control regulations if it meant getting jumped? Han made a decision. "Chewie-scratch everything I said before. Touchy traffic control or not, we're going to drop out of hyperspace twenty seconds early." That earned Han the expected roar of complaint. "I don't care how far it takes us out of the arrival zone. We can blame it on the navicomputer, and let the New Republic pay the fines. I'm still not happy about the situation, and I'd rather be off course than pop into normal space lined up in some pirate's crosshairs."
Chewbacca nodded his agreement and asked a question in a slightly lower-pitched growl.
"Yeah, I thought about staying in hyperspace longer and arriving closer to the planet," Han said. "But I figure it's smarter to come in behind our arrival point, rather than ahead of it. Besides, the sooner we're in-system and can report our arrival and position, the sooner we can call for help if we need it.
Chewbacca thought it over for a moment, then nodded his assent. "All right, then," Han said. He reached over and switched on the intercom. "Everyone all right back there?" he asked.
There was a raucous chorus of yeses from the younger set and then leia spoke We re fine Han Almost time9
"Just about," he said. "I'm going to drop us in twenty seconds early, just to be on the safe side." Han kept his voice casual, knowing that the kids could hear and not wishing to alarm them. He wanted to sound like some routine matte
r, rather than a major change in plans.
"That sounds fine," Lia said, her voice every bit as relaxed as his own. "I was about to suggest that myself."
"Glad to hear it"' he said. "See you on the other side." He flicked the intercom back to the off position, and doublechecked the switch setting. This would be the perfect time to leave it on by accident. If things did get hot, he didn't want the kids back there listening in.
Han spread out his right hand, flexed his fingers twice, and grasped the lightspeed control levers. He reached out with his left hand and cut off the automatics on the navicomputer, but left the countdown display running. "Okay, Chewie, I'm dropping us out of light speed at minus-twenty seconds. Stay on top of it." The numbers clicked downward, and the seconds melted away.
Han watched the countdown clock, and pushed the lightspeed control levers forward just as the clock hit the twenty-second mark. The universe reappeared as the viewport filled with starlines that rapidly downshifted into the familiar points of light, the stars of Corellia The stars of home.
For a moment, and only for a moment, Han allowed himself the luxury of glorying in the stars he had known and loved as a child. He picked out two of the constellations that had been there in the sky when he was growing up.
Memories of his youth burst, unbidden, into his mind. The warm summer nights, staring up at a sky full of inviting stars that seemed to be pulling at him, calling to himA warning growl from Chewie brought Han back to himself. He blinked, and found that his hands were already on the proper controls. He made ready to get under way.
But before he could act, the com system lit up. "Unknown vehicle, you are in a restricted area. This is Corellia Traffic Control. Identify immediately," a rather brusque voice demanded.
Han responded with the little white lie he had at the ready. "Corellia Traffic Control, this is Millennium Falcon.
We had a slight navigational error. Now preparing to proceed to designated entry coordinates."
There was a slight pause before they got an answer.
"Very well, Millennium Falcon. proceed at standard transit velocity to designated rendezvous coordinates and hold there for further instructions."
Rendezvous coordinates? They weren't supposed to rendezvous with anyone. Did someone on Corellia have a surprise waiting for them? "Will comply, Corellia Traffic Control," Han said, looking at Chewie. By the expression on his face, it was clear that the Wookiee had caught the slip as well. "Looks like they're telling us more than they intended," said Han. He confirmed the Falcon's fix on the planet Corellia, a gleaming blue-and-white marble in the sky, did an offset calculation to the rendezvous coordinates, and lit the sublight engines. "There we go, Chewie. On course for target point. let's see if there's a reception committee."
But Chewie already had the long-range passive scanners doing a sweep-and the sweep didn't have to work very hard to find something. There. Centered exactly on the Falcon's designated entry coordinates. No fewer than six faint blips, in a spherical formation. If the Falcon he come in where she had been supposed to, she would have been surrounded.
Han whistled softly. "That's some rendezvous," he said.
"Small military craft of some sort. It's hard for us to see them now, and if we didn't have the mil-spec sensors, we couldn't see them at all. But is that an honor guard for the chief of state, or did someone get the bright idea of arresting Leia?"
Chewie made a slightly derisive snort with a sort of interrogative noise at the end.
"Well, yeah, it could be me they want to arrest," Han said. "But those warrants should have expired years ago.
Believe me, I checked on it. But it doesn't matter. With six escorts waiting for us, we can't make a run for it anyway.
There's bound to be other patrol craft ready to cut off our escape."
Chewie let out a low moan of agreement.
"All right, then. They have military-quality sensors, and they're getting data from Corellia Traffic Control. But I bet they think we have the standard commercial grid we're registered as having. And if they don't know how good our detectors are, they'll think we can't see them from way out here. So what do they do when they can see us and think we can't see them?" He watched for a moment, and got his answer.
"They move," Han announced to Chewie, even though the Wookiee was watching the same image on his own screen. "They move right toward us.
And that doesn't tell us a thing. Honor guard or bandits would do the same thing."
Chewie burbled a protest.
"Yeah, you're right," Han said. "They got off the mark awfully fast. They couldn't have chosen a course and timed a synchronized maneuver like that in just a few seconds."
Han thought for a moment. "Preprogrammed," he said at last. "They just performed a preprogrammed maneuver, heading straight for us.
Except we're a million kilometers back of where we ought to be. Chewie-cut main engines and give me rear detectors, fast!"
Most ships had blind spots in the stern, where the thrust from the sublight engines effectively jammed any and all detection and visual frequencies. The Falcon had a much smaller blind spot than most, but she still had one. But by shutting down the sublight engines, she could bring her rear detector to bear.
Like most pilots, Han didn't like the maneuver because he was likely to need it at exactly the moment when he could least afford to have his engines off. Normally Han would have simply spun the ship around to bring the forward detector array to bear-but with a fleet of six armed and possibly trigger-happy ships of questionable motive bearing down on him, it did not seem to be the time for violent maneuvers.
The sublight engines died with a low groan, which was normal, and a sudden thud, which was not. Chewie and Han exchanged glances, but then Han shrugged. "This old crate comes up with new noises all the time," he said, trying to sound optimistic. "Probably nothing at all."
Chewie was about to reply, but just then the rear detector came on-line, and suddenly a possible problem with the sublight engines wasn't on the top of the list anymore. There was company coming to visit, and it was coming at high speed, straight for the Falcon.
There were three of them, bearing down straight for the Falcon, close enough that Han could get a visual on them.
"Three Uglies," he shouted, "dead astern! I hate Uglies." Han had reason to hate them. "Uglies" were an unpleasant little specialty of the less reputable of the Corellian shipyards-patch-up jobs cobbled together from whatever wrecks happened to find their way into the scrap heap. By the looks of them, two of the things-Han could not bring himself to call them "fighters" or "ships' `-had started out life as X-wings. Now, however, the wings themselves had been stripped off, and the side shields from a pair of early-model TIE fighters were welded on.
The third Ugly wasn't even that recognizable. It had a cockpit section from a Corellian stock light freighter-one of the Falcon's sister ships-bolted onto the fuselage of a badly damaged B-wing, with a turbo-laser cannon slung under the ship's belly. By the look of it, the laser had started life as a ground-based unit. It would have to be all but impossible for the gunner to aim with great accuracy, but with a cannon that size, the gunner would only have to get lucky once.
The problem with Uglies was that it was impossible to know their specs at all. The X-TIE fighters might have no shields at all, or double-powered ones. Or one might have completely different armament from the next. None of the three of them was likely to be all that spaceworthy, which meant that the pilots onboard had to be either stupid or suicidal, if not both. In any event, Ugly pilots weren't likely to be very good-and in a close-quarters dogfight, a bad and desperate pilot in an unreliable ship could be more dangerous than a skilled pilot who valued his own skin and knew what his ship could and could not do. Perhaps worst of all, however, was the fact that only the real dregs of Corellian space flew Uglies. Downon-their-luck pirates, mercenaries who would change sides in the middle of a battle if the price was right, losers who had nothing left to lose. And people who
did not wish to be identified.
All of this flashed through Han's mind in something less than a heartbeat. He turned toward Chewie, about to order him to get the main shields up and the forward lasers online, but Chewie was already on it.
Han skipped to the next item on the agenda. "Chewie, you're gonna have to fly her.
I'll take the upper quad-laser turret."
Chewie nodded and gestured violently, urging Han to be on his way.
Han hit the hatch-open button and was on the other side of the hatchway before the thing was half-open.
He scrambled through the accessway to the upper laser turret and into the control chair. He jammed the headset on and powered up the turret.
"Chewie!" he cried out. "I've got `em on visual. Not quite in range yet, and I want it to stay that way." With the kids onboard, he was more interested in running than duking it out with a bunch of Uglies, and maybe the honor guard, too, if they turned out to be less than honorable.
Star Wars - Ambush At Corellia Page 17