by Timothy Zahn
For a long moment the Diamal stared at him. "Very well," he said at last. "High Councilor Organa Solo's private comlink frequency only. And for no more than two minutes."
"Done." Lando nodded. "How fast can you arrange it?"
Miatamia turned toward the observation deck's intercom and spoke rapidly in the Diamalan language. He was answered in kind. There was one more quick exchange"It is done," he said, turning back to Lando. "Your two minutes are running."
Lando already had his comlink out and keyed. "Leia?"
"Lando!" her relieved voice came back instantly. "I was hoping to get through to you. Han's in trouble."
"I know," Lando said. "He went with Carib to check out the comet and asked me to watch with macrobinoculars. They cut in close to the surface, and then just disappeared."
"What do you mean, disappeared?" Leia asked anxiously. "As if they'd crashed?"
"No," Lando said grimly. "As if they'd dipped inside a cloaking shield."
He heard her sharp intake of air. "Lando, we've got to get over there right away. If there's an Imperial ship hiding out there"
"Hey, no argument here," Lando said. "But I've already used up all my favors getting this call through."
"All right," Leia said, her voice suddenly dark. "It's up to me, then."
"What are you going to do?" Lando asked.
"I'm going to help Han," she said, her voice as cold as he'd ever heard it. "Stay clearyou don't want to get involved in this."
The transmission clicked off. "Too late for that, Leia," he muttered at the dead comlink. "Years and years too late."
* * * Another barrage of turbolaser fire lanced out from the nearest of the two Golan weapons platforms, the spread targeting the group of starfighters harrying its flank.
Wedge twisted his X-wing safely between the shots and did a quick check of the rest of his squadron. As with the last such salvo, and the four or five before it, none of them had taken any damage.
Neither, as far as he could tell, had anyone else in the attack fleet. Bel Iblis's strategy of staying just at the edge of the Golans' kill zone had so far paid off.
But that strategy was about to change.
"All fighter wings, this is Perris," the voice of the Peregrine's fighter commander came tautly through his headset. "Captain Tre-na has confirmed that General Bel Iblis is definitely in trouble in there."
Wedge grimaced, wondering what about the situation had needed any confirmation in the first place. Nose to nose with another Imperial Star Destroyer, pinned in place by probably every heavy tractor beam the Ubiqtorate base could bring to bear
"Lookthey're firing," Rogue Five snapped. "Everything they've got, looks like."
"I see it," Wedge said, gazing through the separating distance at the blaze of turbolaser fire flashing out from the Errant Venture, his last faint hope that Bel Iblis might still be able to talk his way out of this evaporating like morning mist at sunrise. If he'd opened fire on the base, it meant the bluff had failed.
It also meant he was running low on time. That second Star Destroyer, not to mention the Ubiqtorate base commander, wasn't just going to sit there while Bel Iblis vaped their tractor emplacements and got away.
Tre-na and the rest of the fleet command staff aboard the Peregrine had clearly come to the same conclusion. "Okay, fighters," Perris said. "The fleet's going in, and we're going in hard. Your job is to draw fire away from the main ships, help wherever you can to punch a hole in the defense perimeter, and be ready to run screen when the Imperials finally launch their own fighters. All wings, acknowledge and prepare."
"Rogue Leader, copy," Wedge said, then keyed for the squadron's private frequency. "Well, Rogues, you've all had a look at the perimeter. Any thoughts on where the weak spots are?"
"Maybe," Rogue Twelve said. "Seems to me the turbolasers on the starboard side of that second Golan have a slight flutter."
"You sure?" Rogue Three asked. "I didn't notice anything."
"It's small, but it's there," Rogue Twelve said. "It may be just enough to leave a small gap between"
"General Antilles?" a new voice cut in.
Wedge frowned. It was a familiar voice, but not one of his squadron. "This is Antilles," he confirmed cautiously.
"This is Talon Karrde. How are things?"
It took Wedge a second to find his voice. "Karrde, what in blazes are you doing here?" he demanded.
"To be perfectly honest, trying to get past your forces," Karrde said. "Is Commander Horn there with you?"
"I'm here," Rogue Nine said. "What do you want?"
"I want to collect on a favor you owe me," Karrde said. "The one we discussed the last time we were together on the Errant Venture, remember?"
There was an exasperated-sounding noise in Wedge's headset. "Karrde, are you crazy? We're in the middle of a battle here."
"Which is precisely why I need the favor now," Karrde said. "I need you to escort me through the New Republic lines."
"To where?" Rogue Nine countered. "In case you hadn't noticed, on the other side of our lines is an Imperial Ubiqtorate base."
"Which, conveniently, happens to be my destination," Karrde told him.
Wedge snorted gently. "The Wild Karrde must be a lot better armored than I thought."
"The Imperials won't be a problem," Karrde said. "I have a high-level code for getting through their lines. My problem is your lines."
"Look, Karrde, I don't know what you're up to," Rogue Nine said. "And frankly, right now I don't really care. But we have a job to do here."
"Perhaps I can make that job unnecessary," Karrde said, a sudden edge in his voice. "You get me inside, and I may be able to stop this battle completely."
"Really," Rogue Two said, his voice suddenly suspicious. "May I ask how exactly you plan to do that?"
There was a slight pause, and Wedge could picture Karrde smiling that mysterious smile he was so fond of. "Let's just say I'm holding the ultimate bargaining chip," he said softly.
"And that would be...?"
"All wings, this is Perris," the fighter commander's voice came on. "Run to formation; we're heading in."
Wedge took a deep breath. They were under official orders now, with no room for maneuvering or stalling or anything else.
But General Bel Iblis's life was on the line here...
"Karrde, this is Antilles," he said. "Where are you?"
"Coming up behind and above the Peregrine," Karrde told him. "Are you starting an attack?"
"Something like that," Wedge said, checking his rear scanner. The Wild Karrde was there, all right, hanging a respectful distance back from the New Republic sentry line. "Stay putwe'll be right there. Rogues; let's go."
He turned the X-wing hard over and headed toward their rear. There was a click in his headset as someone keyed to his personal frequency "Wedge, what are we doing?" Rogue Nine demanded. "We're under orders. Look, if this is about this so-called favor I owe him"
"I'm not worried about favors right now, Corran," Wedge assured him. "But you heard what Karrde said. He's got an Imperial code for getting through the perimeter."
"Yes, I remember. But his having an access code won't do us any good."
"Ordinarily, no," Wedge agreed, smiling tightly. "But also remember what Rogue Twelve said about that turbolaser flutter. If we guide Karrde in under that particular bankand if we then stay clustered real close behind him?"
Rogue Nine hissed thoughtfully. "That might just do it."
"It's worth a try, anyway," Wedge said. Because if they could get in behind the perimeter, they'd have a far better shot at knocking out the tractor emplacements that held the Errant Venture trapped.
And the faster they knocked out those emplacements, the sooner Bel Iblis would be able to turn his ship around and make a run for safety.
"Wedge?" Rogue Nine said, his voice sounding odd. "You don't suppose Karrde really can stop the battle, do you?"
Wedge started to shake his head; paused. This was Corran
Horn, Jedi, asking the question. "Not really," he said cautiously. "The Imperials want Bel Iblisthat much is for sure. The only reason I can think of why they'd let him go is if they got something they wanted even more."
"That's what I was thinking, too," Rogue Nine said, his voice still odd. "So why am I also thinking Karrde really does have a shot at this?"
Wedge felt a shiver tingle the back of his neck. "I don't know," he said grimly. "All I know is that he's our best chance of getting Bel Iblis and Booster out of there alive. Right now that's all I care about."
They had reached the Wild Karrde now, and Wedge pulled his fighter around in a sharp turn into forward escort position. "Okay, Karrde, here we go," he said, double-checking that the rest of the squadron was in position. "Stay close, and follow me."
CHAPTER
39
The sentinel droid continued its attack, systematically sending its fiery bolts of death in Mara's direction. Her lightsaber leaped to meet each one, hands twisting and turning and jabbing the weapon at the guidance of the Force.
She knew her hands were moving, just as she knew that her teeth were clenched tightly together and that there were drops of sweat rolling down her face. But she couldn't feel them. Couldn't feel any of it. So focused was her mind, so locked into the terrible struggle for survival, that there was nothing else in the universe that seemed able to penetrate into her consciousness. Not the rest of the chamber, not the shape of the sentinel dimly visible behind the dazzling glare of the blaster bolts, not even her own body. Nothing but the blasters and her lightsaber.
And Luke.
It was a strange sensation, the small part of her mind that was still free to wonder about such things realized. Standing back to back, stretched out so deeply together to the Force, it was as if their minds had literally melded together to become a single entity. She could feel his mental and physical strain as he maintained his own defense; could sense his reliance on the Force, and his desperate search for a plan to get them out of this, and his deep concern for the woman standing there with him.
In one way it was almost like a logical extension of the brief emotional contacts they'd had throughout this trip. But in another way it was something completely new, like nothing she'd ever before experienced.
Because within the depth of that mental rapport, she suddenly and totally knew Luke Skywalker. Knew everything about him his hopes and fears; his successes and failures; his strengths and weaknesses; his highest joys and his deepest and most private sorrows. She saw into his innermost spirit, to the depths of his heart, to the very core of his being.
And she knew that even as he lay open before her eyes, so also her heart and spirit were open before his.
Yet it wasn't frightening or humiliating as she might have expected. As she would have expected. It was instead something completely exhilarating. Never before had she experienced such a depth and closeness to another person, a person who understood her as intimately as she understood him. Never had she known such a relationship could even exist.
And never before had she realized how badly she wanted such a relationship.
And that was in its way the most surprising part of all to suddenly realize after so many years how much her determination to lock herself away from others had ended up hurting her. Had stunted her own growth and life just as her stubborn refusal to accept the responsibility of her Jedi abilities had limited their growth.
It was an amazing insight, particularly coming as it did in the midst of the fire and heat of a battle. She could only regret that the understanding hadn't come to her sooner, instead of now.
Now that she was about to die.
Because her death was indeed close at hand, one way or another. Already she could feel her muscles tiring before the sentinel's onslaught, and knew that she couldn't maintain her defense more than a few minutes more at the most. She had to act now, while she still had the strength to do so, or Luke would die, too.
Because while the plan she'd come up with might might eliminate the threat from the sentinel in front of her, there was no way she could take out both of its blasters fast enough to keep a killing shot from reaching her. Fleetingly, she thought of Corran Horn and his ability to absorb and dissipate energy; but that had never been one of her talents, and there was certainly no time for her to learn the technique now. No, she would throw her lightsaber at her chosen target, and the sentinel would shoot her, and she would die. All she could hope for was to cling to life long enough to finish what had to be done.
No, Mara. No! Was that her thought? she wondered. Or was it Luke's?
I have to, Luke. That one was hers. Through her own fears and regrets she could feel his sudden surge of desperate emotion as he tried to come up with a way she would not have to die.
But there wasn't one. Mara had already considered every possibility, and there simply wasn't any way Luke could hold off four blasters by himself when two of them were firing at his back this way. But if she could just live long enough to carry this through, using her body to shield him until the sentinel facing her could be eliminated...
While I still have the strength, she reminded herself. And the time was now. She took a deep breath
No! the emotion broke through her black determination. Wait. Look.
She had no attention to spare to look anywhere but at the sentinel and its blasters. But she didn't have to. Luke had already seen the critical new factor, and now the image flowed through the Force into her mind.
Off to her right, his little electric arc welder extended ahead of him like a weapon, Artoo was rolling determinedly along the upper floor ring toward her attacker.
Her first thought was to wonder what in blazes had taken the little droid so long to get his metal rear over to help, only then realizing how little time had actually elapsed since the battle began. Her second, somewhat irreverent thought was to note that Artoo had chosen her sentinel to attack instead of Luke's, and to wonder if the Skywalker tendency toward overprotectiveness had rubbed off on him.
Her third thought was that Luke was right. This might be the break she needed, the opening for her plan to succeed without her having to die in the process.
Maybe.
Artoo was almost to the sentinel now, a bluish spark arcing across the welder contacts. The sentinel was perfectly aware of him, of course; the only question was what it would do about it...
And then an image flashed into Mara's mind. A picture of her and Luke lying on the floor amid the tangle of trip cords down there.
She felt herself gasp. Was that a vision of the future, of them lying dead together? Was her plan doomed to failure?
You see? Luke's emotion broke through the sudden fear. You understand?
And then the image cleared, and she indeed saw what he meant. Not a vision of death, but a hope of life Luke's own last-second contribution to her plan. Got it, she sent back her understanding.
Get ready...
She felt her teeth clenching even harder, lightsaber still flashing against the sentinel's attacks, and prepared herself. Artoo was almost to the sentinel, his arc welder still sparking
And with a casual and contemptuous ease, the sentinel swung its left arm over, placed the side of the blaster in that hand against Artoo's dome, and shoved the little droid over to land flat on his back.
And for that half second, only one of his blasters was firing.
Now!
Mara reacted instantly, letting her right leg collapse beneath her to send her toppling over onto her right side. Luke fell right along with her, his back pressed against hers the whole way down. They hit the floorthere was probably a jolt of pain in her shoulder from the impact, but Mara wasn't aware of itand Luke flipped over onto his back to face upward toward the ceiling.
And with that single move suddenly there were no longer two attacks coming from totally opposite directions. Now, it was merely two attacks coming from a pair of widely spaced opponents, both of whom were effectively in front of him.
>
And that was something he could handle.
Go! his command came as the green-white of his lightsaber flashed past over her head, deflecting a shot away from her face. Mara didn't need the prompting; already her lightsaber was spinning its way toward the sentinel. A quick slash, and the blaster in its right hand had shattered to uselessness. Its other hand was already swinging back toward her; the lightsaber changed direction and slashed again, and the sentinel's second blaster was similarly gone.
There was a short, rumbling roar from the big droidapparently it had enough sentience to be annoyed at having been outmaneuvered this way. But it was also smart enough to know the disadvantage was only temporary, that her lightsaber couldn't harm it directly, at least not fast enough to do any good.
And its designers had also clearly prepared for such an eventuality. Two more compartments along its lower sides had popped open, and the sentinel's hands were already digging into them for another set of replacement weapons.
But with luck, it would never have a chance to use them. Mara had already brought her lightsaber around in front of the sentinel, turning it to point blade-first toward the big droid. Now, grunting with the effort, she drove it forward.
Not uselessly into the sentinel and its cortosis-ore shell, but straight past it, burying the blue-white blade in the water-stained wall behind it.
The jet of water that burst out around the handle was instant and violent, some of the spray reaching all the way to where she and Luke lay on the floor thirty meters away. Mara felt a sudden twinge of uneasiness at the force of the flow; but it was too late to stop now. Holding the weapon in against the pressure, she spun it around in a ten-centimeter-diameter circle, the hilt more than once nearly vanishing from her view behind the widening spray of water coming out through the crack she was cutting. The sentinel turned its head to see what was happening; lifted its blasters toward the lightsaber
And with a last burst of effort, Mara finished the cut.
The stone plug came blasting out of the wall with the speed of a proton torpedo, slamming directly into the sentinel's thick torso with armor-crushing force and knocking the big droid helplessly off the upper ring down onto the main floor. Mara caught a glimpse of crumpled metal; saw that the stream of water that had driven the plug was now shooting across the room over her head