by Timothy Zahn
“Wait a second,” Mara cut him off. There was something in Skywalker’s voice and thoughts that told her he was about to try something really stupid. “You’re not thinking of cold-shirting it all the way out to us, are you? We can’t get in close enough for that.”
“I know,” Luke said. “I’m going to have to go into a Jedi hibernation trance as soon as I clear the blast door.”
She’d called it, all right: something really stupid. “And how are you expecting to accomplish that?” she demanded. “You’ll have to go into the trance right after you’ve blown the door. That won’t leave you any air reserve.”
“If I cut open the door properly there should be a burst of air that comes out with me,” Luke pointed out. “That ought to give me enough to start the hibernation, as well as nudging me your direction.”
“You’ve got rotten odds.”
“Last-ditch options are like that. And if we take too much time discussing it, we won’t have any odds at all.”
“Sounds like one of Solo’s lines,” Mara growled. But he was right; and as if to emphasize his words, the other flanking ridge began its own disintegration. “You win. Let’s do it.”
“Right,” Luke said. “Artoo, get going.”
The droid gave an unhappy twitter, but the X-wing lifted obediently out of the landing bay and headed toward the Starry Ice. “Faughn?” Mara called.
“Tractor assist is ready at the half-port,” Faughn said. “The outer door of the starboard airlock is open, with an atmosphere barrier in place, and Krickle’s standing by inside with a medpac. We’re ready whenever he is.”
“You copy that, Luke?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll set up the phrase ‘welcome aboard’ to snap me out of the trance.”
“ ‘Welcome aboard,’ right.”
“Okay, here we go. Don’t miss me.”
Mara smiled tightly. Don’t miss me. Once, those words would have had a totally different connotation for her. Luke Skywalker in her blaster sights, the Emperor’s dying command that she kill the upstart Jedi echoing through her mind …
But she’d gone through that crisis ten years ago inside Mount Tantiss, and the Emperor’s voice was now only a distant and powerless memory.
Skywalker would have his own crisis to go through one of these days. Maybe he was in the middle of it right now.
She hoped so.
There was a flicker from Luke’s emotions. Mara concentrated, visualizing the flash of his lightsaber as the green blade slashed through the thick metal of the blast door—
And then, abruptly, he vanished.
“Faughn?” Mara called, closing her eyes as she stretched out as hard as she could. But Luke’s presence was no longer detectable, at least not by her. Either he’d gone into his hibernation trance, or else he was dead.
“Here he comes,” Faughn said.
Mara opened her eyes. He was there, all right, looking like a broken puppet as he glided rapidly toward the Starry Ice. His limbs flailed limply as his body tumbled slowly end over end, the flickering light from the asteroid’s ongoing self-destruction adding a surreal air to the whole scene.
With a jolt that startled her, the Starry Ice began moving down toward the surface: Faughn, maneuvering the ship to match Luke’s trajectory.
Or rather, trying to match it. Mara frowned at the approaching figure, trying to extrapolate his trajectory and impact speed—
Faughn, with access to the ship’s computer, got the answer first. “We’ve got trouble,” she said tightly. “With the speed I’m having to use to catch him, he’s either going to bounce off the hull or else hit the back airlock wall hard enough to break his neck.”
“You just get him inside,” Mara said, hitting the quick-release on her restraints and scrambling to her feet. “I’ll make sure he lives through it.”
He was almost there by the time Mara reached the airlock, cartwheeling toward them far faster than was healthy. “Computer says we’re right on target,” Faughn’s voice called over the speaker as Mara peered through the atmosphere barrier. “Impact in ten seconds.”
Taking a deep breath, Mara braced herself against the airlock bulkhead and stretched out to the Force.
The Emperor had taught her the basics of using the Force to move objects, rudimentary training that Skywalker himself had developed further during their trek through the Wayland forest and later for a brief time at that Yavin academy of his. She’d kept up practice on her own after that, and had thought she’d become pretty proficient with the technique.
But moving small objects like her lightsaber was one thing. Catching Luke as he fell toward her was something else entirely, rather like trying to stop the Starry Ice with her teeth. She threw everything she had into the effort, dimly aware that her whole body had gone rigid with the strain, fighting to at least slow him down before he barreled past her through the atmosphere barrier. She could sense him slowing—knew it wouldn’t be enough—
And at the last possible second she stepped away from the bulkhead directly into his path.
He slammed into her full tilt, the impact driving both of them back and down. “Welcome aboard,” Mara gasped, an instant before the two of them slammed together to the deck.
A landing that was considerably less painful than she had expected it to be. She blinked, trying to shake the lingering stars from her vision—
“Thank you,” Luke murmured into her ear.
The stars cleared, and Mara found herself looking up into a strange face—Luke’s face, she realized, heavily disguised. He was straddling her, hands and feet on the deck, apparently having come out of his trance just in time to take his share of the impact instead of adding extra dead weight to hers. “You’re welcome,” she managed. “Nice disguise.”
“Thanks,” he said. “It worked, too, mostly.”
“ ‘Mostly’ doesn’t count for much, does it?” she said. “How come you didn’t use a Force illusion, like you have before?”
“I’ve been trying to cut back on my use of the Force except when absolutely necessary,” he explained. “It didn’t seem necessary in this case.”
“Ah,” Mara said. That was interesting. Very interesting indeed. “So. You want to get off me, or were you just getting comfortable?”
“Oh—sure,” he said awkwardly, some of that old farmboy embarrassment flicking across his face as he scrambled off her. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” Mara said, getting to her feet and running a critical eye over him. Some nasty-looking shrapnel tears in his clothing, with what were probably some equally nasty injuries underneath them. “Looks like you need a pass through the medical bay.”
“No time,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m okay for now, and we’ve got to get out of here. Did my X-wing get docked?”
“I don’t know,” Mara said, slapping the control pad to close the outer airlock door. “Faughn?”
“It’s been secured in B-port,” the captain said. “Skywalker, you know a safe route out of this death trap?”
“I used to,” Luke said, keying the inner door. “It’s probably not any safer than any other path now.”
“We’ll follow the pirates,” Mara decided, waving Krickle away as he hurried up with his medpac and leading Luke down the corridor toward the Starry Ice’s half-ports. “They’ll probably shoot at us, but you can’t have everything.”
“Problem: we seem to have run out of pirates to follow,” Faughn said. “Nothing’s left the asteroid in nearly two minutes.”
Mara felt her stomach muscles tighten. “Which means the grand finale of their self-destruct system is probably ticking down right now.”
“Probably,” Faughn agreed. “What do we do, pick a direction and go?”
“More or less,” Mara told her. “Start pulling away from the main base, but not too fast. I want to be on my turbolaser before we get into anything nasty.”
“Give me time to get out there, too,” Luke added. “I can run ahead of you and trig
ger the traps.”
“Only if you can see them coming,” Mara pointed out, giving him a hard look. “I’ve got a better danger sense than you do; maybe I should take your ship and break trail.”
“I can do it,” he said firmly. “Anyway, it’s my responsibility—you’re here because of me.”
He had a point. “If that’s how you want it,” Mara said, pointing down the corridor. “Take the first left, then break right. Make it fast.”
She needn’t have worried. By the time she reached her turbolaser station the X-wing was already burning space ahead of them. “I’m ready,” she announced as she strapped in again. “Get going, Luke. Good luck.”
“May the Force be with you,” he said with what she decided was probably mild reproof. “Stay sharp.”
The trip in through the asteroids had been nerve-racking. The trip out, to Mara’s surprise, was almost casually easy. Time and again the X-wing would shift course slightly and fire, setting off a distant cluster trap or shredder bomb or automatic turbolaser nest, usually before Mara’s own danger sense had even triggered. It quickly settled into a pattern: the X-wing would maneuver, fire, and dodge, with the Starry Ice following stolidly behind, its own turbolaser crew needing to do only occasional cleanup work. Whether by design or accident, Luke seemed to be running slightly above the freighter, doing his most thorough job of minesweeping within Mara’s angle of fire. Most of the cleanup work thus wound up in Elkin’s or Torve’s sectors, leaving Mara little to do except help watch for any surprises the pirates might have left behind, wait patiently for them to clear the asteroid field, and wonder darkly if Luke was deliberately being overprotective just to annoy her.
It was on one of her visual sweeps of the sky ahead that she spotted the ship.
Her initial thought was that it was a TIE fighter; it was similarly sized and at first glance had something of the same silhouette. But even as she opened her mouth to alert the others the craft made a turn—
“We’ve got company,” she snapped. “Poking near the edge of the asteroid field at about twenty by fifty.”
“Got it,” Faughn said. “Looks like … what does it look like?”
“You got me,” Mara said. “I thought it was an Imperial, but those aren’t TIE solar panels on its sides.”
“Whatever they are, it’s got two more of them flaring aft at the tail,” Elkin pointed out.
“Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not an Imperial,” Faughn grunted. “Skywalker? You up on current Imperial starfighter design?”
“Not really,” Luke said, his voice showing signs of the strain as he was forced to split his attention between the intruder and the more immediate task at hand. “I’ve never seen anything like that before, though.”
Mara gazed out at the distant spacecraft. Clearly, it was watching them. Did it realize they’d spotted it? “I think one of us ought to try for a closer look,” she said.
“Let’s not, shall we?” Faughn growled. “We don’t need to borrow any more trouble than we’ve already got.”
“Besides, with our luck it’d just be another of those useless Qella things,” Corvus added scornfully. “Like the one Lando Calrissian chased all over space.”
“I say we take a look,” Mara said, putting the firmness in her voice that made it an order. “Luke, you’re the faster ship. You want to see if you can catch it?”
“I can try,” he said, an odd tone to his voice. Was he feeling the same thing about that ship that she was? “Can you spare me?”
“I think so,” Mara said. “We have to be pretty close to the edge of the pirates’ defense sphere by now.”
“Okay. Artoo, get all the recorders and sensors going. We’re going to want a complete record of this.”
The droid beeped acknowledgment; and with a suddenness that surprised even Mara the X-wing angled off and shot toward the intruder. It dodged past the drifting asteroids, cutting close beside them for the maximum of cover. Mara kept her turbolaser targeted on the other spacecraft, wondering tautly whether they would choose to fight or run.
But the X-wing was still closing, and so far there was no reaction. Could the intruder somehow be looking the other direction? Ridiculous. So what was it waiting for?
Luke was nearly to close-combat distance now. Behind him, a stray asteroid floated leisurely between the intruder and Mara’s line of sight—
Her only warning was a sudden jolt in Luke’s emotions. An instant later she caught a single glimpse of the intruder as it flicked at incredible speed across the sky, making for the edge of the asteroid field.
“There he goes!” Torve yelped as Mara tried to swing her turbolaser around to target the distant spacecraft. But too late. Even as she fought to get a lock on it another asteroid cut across between them, again blocking her view. There was the flicker of pseudomotion from the asteroid’s edge, and the ship was gone.
Someone on the intercom swore softly. “I give up,” Faughn said. “What the blazes was that?”
“You got me,” Mara said. “Luke? You still there?”
“Right here,” Luke replied. “Did you get all that?”
“Only part of it,” Mara told him. “He waited until we were blocked by an asteroid before making his move.”
“Interesting,” Luke said. “The ship gave off a very unusual energy signature as he took off—I recorded what I could of it, but I doubt my sensors were able to pick up more than a fraction of what was really there.”
“Maybe that’s why he waited until we couldn’t see him.”
“Probably,” Luke agreed. “He’d have guessed a ship your size would have better sensors than mine.”
Mara rubbed her lips. “Well, unless you want to follow his hyperspace vector, there’s not a lot we can do about him right now. How about feeding us what your sensors got?”
The astromech droid made a rude sound. “It’s all right, Artoo,” Luke soothed. “We can consider this their rescue fee.”
“Part of their rescue fee,” Mara corrected. “We’ll settle on the rest later.”
“Understood,” Luke agreed. “Here it comes.”
“Got it,” Faughn said.
“Thanks,” Mara said. “You need anything else, Luke?”
“Not at your prices,” he said dryly. “Seriously, thanks for everything.”
“Glad we could help,” Mara said. “Don’t forget to have those injuries looked at.”
“I won’t,” he assured her. “Artoo’s already pulling up a list of the nearest New Republic medical facilities. See you later.”
“Right. Watch yourself.”
The comm clicked, and with a flicker of pseudomotion the X-wing made its jump to lightspeed. Mara gazed after it, a strange mixture of emotions chasing each other through her mind. The glowing reports she’d read of Luke’s glorious achievements … and yet, they were a far cry from what she’d seen him do just now. Had something happened to him?
Or was he finally coming to his senses?
“Jade?” Faughn asked. “What now?”
Mara exhaled softly, putting Skywalker out of her mind. “We shoot a report off to Karrde,” she said, doing a quick time calculation. “See if he wants us to get back on schedule for the Nosken rendezvous or else try to track the pirates’ escape route.”
“Right,” Faughn said. “Incidentally, Jade, in case no one’s ever mentioned it before, you and Skywalker make a pretty good team.”
Mara gazed out at the drifting asteroids. “Bite your tongue, Faughn,” she said softly. “Bite your tongue.”
CHAPTER
10
It was a hot day in this part of Dordolum. Hot and sunny, with an oppressively still and heavy atmosphere that seemed to wrap around the silent lunchtime crowd like a wet grov-fur blanket.
The speaker currently shouting at the crowd from his perch atop the Stand of Public Expression was adding to the heat, too. But unlike the weather his heat was a fiery one, a mixture of words and thoughts and stage presence carefully des
igned to inflame the emotions and stir up the dozens of long-simmering resentments represented out there today. Practically everyone listening to the diatribe harbored at least one such quiet grudge, whether it be Ishori toward Diamala, Barabels toward Rodians, or Aqualish toward humans.
Or almost everyone toward Bothans. Letting his eyes drift across the crowd to the elaborate sign of the Bothan-owned Solferin Shipping Company directly across the plaza to their right, Drend Navett permitted himself a private smile.
It was a good day for a riot.
The speaker had made it to his main topic now, and as he hammered in graphic detail at the horror that had been the destruction of Caamas and the Bothans’ cowardly and loathsome role in it, Navett could sense the crowd’s anger finally edging toward the mindless fury that he’d been waiting for. Slowly, careful that his movement not break the spell for those around him, he began drifting toward the area closest to the shipping company. Klif might be a genius at demagoguery; but it was he, Navett, who knew how to gauge a crowd’s mood and pick the right time for action.
Almost there. Navett was in position now, within easy targeting range of the shipping company. Dipping a hand into the bag hanging unobtrusively at his side, he withdrew his weapon of choice and waited. Another few seconds … and … now.
“Justice for Caamas!” he shouted. “Justice now!” Cocking his arm over his shoulder, he spun and hurled at the Bothan building—
And right on target, the overripe blicci fruit hit the door, splashing with a sickening thud and leaving a brilliant red stain behind.
There was a startled gasp from a couple of Duros standing nearby. But neither they nor anyone else in the crowd was going to be given enough time to think about what they were being suckered into here. From a half-dozen other places in the crowd the cry for justice was echoed, and a half-dozen other pieces of fruit splattered the building. “Justice for Caamas!” Navett shouted again, hurling another blicci fruit. “Vengeance for genocide!”
“Vengeance!” someone picked up the call, the cry accompanied by more of the nuisance missiles. “Vengeance for genocide!” Navett threw another blicci fruit, and another—