Outcast

by Aaron Allston

  Wedge returned his attention to Rhysati. “How’s Nawara?”

  “Wishing he were here with me. If he weren’t trying to dig the Jedi out of a legal hole, he’d be flying something on this operation.”

  Wedge gestured at her interceptor. “Looks fast.”

  “You’ve never flown one?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve done some simulator work, but never actually been in one. My daughter Syal flew them.”

  “You want to trade for the rest of the operation?”

  Wedge blinked. “What, in the middle of a mission?”

  “Sure. This isn’t the armed forces, Wedge. It’s more like a heavily armed bachelor party. What’s Lando going to do to us if we trade?”

  Wedge scrambled out of his cockpit. He knew it was an unseemly spectacle for a retired officer. On the other hand, it was no longer his job to set a good example.

  JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT

  Tahiri and Mirax carried Seff between them, his arms over their shoulders as though he were a drunk comrade; he was not heavily built and they were strong women, so it was his awkwardness rather than his weight that posed the greatest problem. Tekli preceded them, and Winter followed behind.

  They hauled the unconscious Jedi through the darkened speeder hangar, trying to keep themselves as calm and centered as possible; other Jedi, especially the Masters whose hangar this was, were more likely to sense distress. But no one met them in the corridor outside the hangar, and no one approached them as they made their way to the nearest turbolift.

  As they neared the lift, it hummed with the sound of an arriving car. Tahiri and Mirax got Seff spun around and made it with Winter and Tekli to a darkened nook before the turbolift door opened.

  Tekli peered into the hall and breathed a sigh of relief. She motioned the others forward. They stepped out again and saw that it was Jaina awaiting them at the lift.

  “Any problems with your observer?” Tahiri asked. They moved into the lift car.

  “No. He sympathized with me for not catching any petty criminals tonight.” Jaina blinked, affecting an expression of innocence. “It looks like my night’s outing was a complete failure.”

  Tekli addressed the turbolift controls: “Second medical level.”

  The lower medical level was a solemn, quiet area of bare walls and windowless doors—not too different, Tahiri reflected, from the prison she’d just visited.

  At the back of one medical supplies storage chamber was a door marked RADIOACTIVE MATERIALS. AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY. The door had a security pad beside it. Tekli tapped in the access code. “Master Cilghal and I are the only ones authorized to enter. Even Master Hamner must come to us. This is the lesser of two radiation storage chambers. I’ve moved all the materials that belong here into the primary chamber.” The door slid open, and they moved through into a small outer chamber; inset in the right wall was a swing-out door as thick as a blast door. Through it was another chamber, this one set up with a heavy patient bed and a bank of monitoring equipment.

  In minutes, they had Seff strapped down to the bed and hooked up to the monitors. Finally Jaina could breathe a sigh of relief; this mission was done, and now the Jedi could begin to benefit from the knowledge Seff might provide. She turned to Tekli. “You’re all right here?”

  “Fine, fine.”

  “Everybody, come on up to the main level. You can get cleaned up—plenty of extra clothes around—and grab a cup of caf. Rest for a few minutes.”

  Mirax shook her head. “Have to get back to our quarters. There’s no telling when Corran will be back.”

  Winter looked regretful, too. “I wish I could.”

  Jaina sighed. “I’ll get you back out through the same hangar you came in by. No worries. Tahiri?”

  Tahiri appeared dubious. “I don’t know. There are plenty of Jedi who don’t remember me fondly—”

  “And they should know that you and I are on good terms. It’ll make them think about things.” Jaina’s tone was firm. “Come on.”

  “All right.”

  Fresh from a sanisteam and in clean garments, Jaina and Tahiri nursed fresh cups of caf and talked, their voices low. At this hour of night, the common dining hall was all but unoccupied, with the banks of overhead glow rods along the walls switched off, leaving only those in the center of the ceiling still shining. It was a restful place, particularly after the events of less than an hour earlier. Tahiri looked around, her expression wistful.

  “You miss it?”

  Tahiri nodded.

  “Then come back.”

  Tahiri shook her head. “No. Not yet, anyway … Have you suddenly acquired the Luke Skywalker urge to save everybody, one person at a time?”

  “Better than the Darth Vader urge to make the galaxy a better place by destroying everything that doesn’t behave.”

  “True. Jacen had enough of that for both of you.”

  A man entering the dining hall paused in the shadows by the main doorway, then headed their way. As he emerged from the darkness, Jaina saw that it was Dab.

  He waved as he approached. “Jedi Solo. You couldn’t sleep, either?”

  “That’s it. Dab, you remember Tahiri Veila.”

  “Do I ever.” Reaching their table, he extended a hand toward Tahiri. “Good to see you again. You probably don’t remember me. From Borleias. Dab Hantaq.”

  From the corner of her eye, Jaina caught Tahiri’s sudden stillness. She turned to see Tahiri frozen in place, her caf cup halfway to her lip. Her eyes were wide, her expression as stunned as if she’d just shot herself while cleaning her blaster.

  And then Jaina realized why. Inwardly, she cringed. She made her voice very gentle. “Tahiri, you knew him as Tarc. Remember little Tarc?”

  “Tarc,” Tahiri repeated. “Little Tarc. Yes, of course.” Her voice was almost mechanical.

  Dab dropped his hand to his side. “Would you two care for company?”

  Jaina shook her head. “Girl talk. Sorry.”

  “Understood. Good night, ladies.” Dab turned and headed off in search of the caf cart.

  Slowly, Tahiri set her cup down. “He’s … he’s Anakin.”

  Jaina nodded. “Remember, that’s why Senator Shesh chose him all those years ago. A distraction because of the way he looked.”

  “You could have told me.”

  “I had gotten used to it. I wasn’t even thinking about it when I put the Darkmeld team together. I forgot. I’m sorry.”

  “Forgot. I spent months getting myself addicted to seeing him, Anakin, and then a couple of years trying to get over it. And, boom, he’s here.” Tahiri was pale and she shook as if with cold. “And you want me to come back? With him here every day?”

  “The observers won’t be here forever. Nawara Ven says that the High Court is leaning toward reviewing the whole executive order about the Jedi. If they do, they’re sure to strike down most of its provisions, including the observers—”

  “That’s not the luck I deserve, and it’s not what I’ll get.” Tahiri’s expression turned bleak. “I’ll come back, and they’ll give me him as an observer. That’s what will happen.”

  Desperate to wrench Tahiri’s attention from the man who looked like the long-dead love of her life, Jaina flailed through memories of the night’s events. “Your lightsaber.”

  “What?”

  “You lost your lightsaber at the prison.”

  Tahiri nodded, confused.

  “If they find it …”

  “Oh.” With a visible act of will, Tahiri yanked her thoughts away from Dab. “I don’t think it will be a problem.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s probably crushed under tons of rock. It may never be found. If it is … well, it’s new. I didn’t want to use my old Jedi lightsaber anymore. I just built that one. The hilt design won’t have been recorded anywhere. I was wearing gloves tonight, so no fingerprints. And non-conductive gloves when I was assembling it, so no prints inside.”

  “Good.”r />
  “But Jag lost his blaster at the same time—”

  “Also not a problem. That model is custom-built for him. Big enough for him to hold with his gauntlets on. Unless he throws a switch on the butt, if it’s separated from him for more than a certain number of seconds, it blows up.”

  “That’s strange. Your boyfriend’s strange.”

  “I know.”

  Tahiri’s gaze wandered over to where Dab now sat, alone at one long table, peering into the tiny playback screen of his holocam, doubtless reviewing recent recordings. She stood. “I have to go.”

  “Tahiri, I don’t think you ought to be out on the streets and walkways the way you’re—”

  “Let me know when he’s gone forever.” Tahiri whirled away and left the dining hall at a run.

  UNDERGROUND COMPLEX, KESSEL

  It was hours into the mission, and its organizers could begin to relax.

  Demolition mounds all through the gigantic cavern-and-tunnel complex had been detonating on schedule. Mission control, Koyi Komad, monitoring events from low planetary orbit in the Imperialera mobile command post Lando and Tendra had overhauled for this operation, reported that the resulting tremors were doing what they were supposed to—taking place, waning, and then subsiding, doing only the damage to be expected of individual groundquakes. The precise sequence of detonations was not permitting overlapping ground-shakes to reinforce one another, and sensors in the Great Kessel Fault running along the planetary axis reported no undue motion, no dangerous stress.

  The Falcon, having fired its last refitted missile into its last target cavern, sat on a tunnel floor only a few kilometers from the exit shaft.

  Leia gave Han a curious look. “We really can leave now.”

  “True.”

  “Any reason we’re not?”

  “I’m going to be the last one out.” Han knew that he sounded stubborn, maybe even sulky, rather than determined, but he didn’t care. He’d demonstrated far too much nervousness about the underworld of Kessel, and he was determined to show himself and the planet that he wasn’t driven by fear.

  Leia glanced back over her shoulder. “Actually, technically, since Allana’s in the seat behind us, she’s going to be the last one out.”

  “I should be the last one out.” Allana’s voice was decisive. “I got to be the last one to shoot a missile.”

  Leia smiled. “You sure did, kid.”

  “Control to Falcon, come in.”

  “Falcon here.” This was, Han hoped, the announcement that all other vehicles were out, and that the only thing left to do was stay clear of the planet’s surface until the explosion sequence had run its course.

  “Rearmament Team Epsilon is offline and not reporting in. Suspected bogey encounter. You’re the closest vehicle with rescue capabilities—our last rescue speeder is bringing a stranded subsonics pilot out now. Can you investigate?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s have the coordinates.” As Han watched, both a set of XYZ coordinates based on Kessel’s master map and a dotted-line navigational diagram based on the caverns map appeared on his nav console. “Got it, thanks.”

  “Control out.”

  Han brought the Falcon’s repulsors up and gently lifted the transport from the rocky tunnel floor.

  Leia leaned over to give the navigational diagram a look. “Not very far. He must have been on his way out.”

  “Well, let’s make sure he gets there.”

  Their route led them through the cavern they’d seen destroyed before their original escape from the complex. Most of the life there had been lost by the explosion, so the cavern was dim, very little of the phosphorescent fungi on the ceiling remaining.

  Once past the far entrance to the cavern, they progressed barely a kilometer into the connecting tunnel before they saw Epsilon. A human man, young and sandy-haired, he ran toward them as fast as his clearly exhausted legs would carry him, frantically waving at the Falcon as he came. He was alone and carried no equipment.

  Leia unstrapped from her seat. “I’ll get him at the boarding ramp.” She hurried aft as Han gently set the Falcon down as close to the running man as he dared. While the transport settled, Han heard the whir of the ramp descending. “Hey, Goldenrod, give up your seat for our new passenger. You can join Artoo aft.”

  “Yes, sir. If I must, sir.” C-3PO unstrapped and awkwardly eased past Allana, then hurried aft.

  “Rogue to Falcon, come in.”

  “Falcon here, Wedge.”

  “Are you on that rescue call? My exit route takes me out right past that spot, so I’m inbound. I can stand by your retrieval targets until you get there.”

  “No, thanks, we’re already on station.” Han heard the ramp lift into position. “Lifting off in about ten seconds.”

  “No worries, then. Rogue out.”

  There was a clatter of feet on deck plates, and Leia and their new passenger entered the cockpit. Han spared the young man a look. He was drenched with sweat and gasping so hard for breath that he was almost sobbing. “What happened to you, kid?”

  The young man dropped into C-3PO’s seat, his chest heaving. “Ran.”

  “Where’s your partner?”

  “Destroyed. We need to go.”

  Suddenly uneasy, Han lifted off and spun the Falcon around. “Destroyed by what?”

  “Energy spider.”

  Han’s breath caught for a moment. He kicked in the thrusters and accelerated along their exit route. “Tell me you mean one of the new ones, the red ones.”

  “No, one of the blue ones.”

  A chill of apprehension climbed Han’s spine. “Not good. You said destroyed, not killed. Your partner was a droid?”

  “Loader droid. We’d been hearing this skittering noise at our last station. We took off for our exit, but we ran into a bogey—literally—which killed our speeder and our lights, except for pocket glow lamps. The skittering got closer, and then we saw it.” Han couldn’t see the young man shudder, but he didn’t have to; the reaction carried into the young man’s voice. “Jayfor told me to run for it. He charged at the spider. Last I saw, it had him all wrapped up and the lights in his eyes were going dark …”

  “Yeah.” Han put on a bit more speed.

  His sensor board alerted him to a new contact. He glanced at it and saw a distant blip behind, rapidly overtaking them. For a moment he had the sudden fear that energy spiders could now outrun the Falcon, but the sensor board presented the pursuer’s transceiver code as Rogue.

  “Wedge, this is Han. You’re probably already past it, but there’s an energy spider back your way somewhere. Stay alert.”

  “Haven’t seen it. Saw a crashed hauler and a mangled lifter droid. I think it was the same one Drathan Forge was with.”

  Han glanced back and saw the name FORGE on the breast of the boy’s jumpsuit. “It was, but the kid’s all right. Just keep your eyes open.”

  “Will do.”

  Leia finished buckling herself into the copilot’s seat. “You any relation to Inyri Forge?”

  “She’s my great-aunt.”

  The Falcon roared through the ruined cavern and into the tunnel beyond. As they exited the cavern, in his rear holocam display Han could see Wedge’s borrowed Eta-5 entering the cavern at the far end and following.

  “Han, this is Wedge. I see your spider.”

  “Where?”

  “On your—”

  An insectile leg, like hollow transparisteel filled with a sparkling dark blue beverage, came down onto the cockpit viewport from above and behind.

  “—top hull.”

  Han jumped. The reflex action might have carried him clear out of his seat but for his restraint straps. Allana screamed, a high-pitched peal that went on and on. Drathan said a word that, had Han’s entire universe not been focused on the blue leg, he would have wished Allana hadn’t heard.

  The spider had to have come up on the Falcon along the tunnel ceiling. The creatures absorbed energy; they soaked up anything ac
tive sensors had to throw at them and could not be detected by such devices. They were nature’s perfect predators … and now one of them was in reach of his family.

  Almost numb with shock but operating on years of training, Han flipped on his energy deflectors and scanned his weapons board. Concussion missiles all gone. Lasers at full power—no, the power flow wavered just for a moment, then spiked back to normal. Ground buzzer antipersonnel blaster operational. But nothing could be brought to bear against the spider; the top quad-linked lasers could not depress far enough to hit something clinging to the top hull.

  Allana continued screaming, despite Leia’s efforts to hush her. Leia’s eyes were on the viewport above, and her hand was on her lightsaber. Han wanted to shout, That won’t work, the thing will absorb it and then all of us, but he was too busy. The deflectors were not coming up, despite the fact that their generators all indicated they were in the green.

  Of course they weren’t coming up. The energy spider was drinking in every bit of energy in its vicinity. And now the thruster engines skipped, a miss of less than half a second’s duration, but long enough for Han to feel that his heart had stopped for the same amount of time.

  The deflector shields weren’t doing a bit of good—

  Not true. They were still running: if they hadn’t been, the spider would have been draining energy right out of the occupants of the cockpit, or straight from the engines, or both. Han glanced at Leia. “Increase power to the shields. Give them everything you can.”

  She leaned over her controls. “Tell me you have some plan in addition to ‘more power to the shields.’ ”

  “When I do, I’ll tell you.”

  Allana continued to scream.

  The spider leg raised, then hammered down again. It was joined by another, this one featuring a ferocious-looking backspike with a serrated edge.

  Even over the sounds of Allana’s wail, C-3PO’s voice carried from the transport’s aft sections. “I say, sir, I’m not quite strapped in yet—”

  They reached a tunnel intersection. Han vectored to port, a hard turn. Being slammed sideways in her restraints cut off Allana’s breath for a moment. Han could hear another cry from the rear: “I sayyyyyy—” followed by a crash of a droid into duralloy bulkhead.