by Alex Wheeler
"Hear you're looking for Nal Kenuun," he said in a low, gravelly voice.
"It's possible." Han kept a hand on his blaster.
"Whadya want with him?" The Dug squinted with suspicion.
"Looking for some action," Han said. "Hear he's the place to get it. I've got some credits to burn."
"You think you're some kind of gambler?" the Dug asked.
"The best kind," Han retorted. "The winning kind."
"No one wins against Nal Kenuun."
Han shrugged. "Only one way to find out."
"Kenuun runs a high stakes game," the Dug warned him. "The buy-in's at ten thousand. No IOUs. You don't look like you have that kind of cash on you."
"Looks can be deceiving," Han said. "I have what I need."
Leia shot him a sharp glance. Between them, they barely had ten credits, much less ten thousand—not to mention that posing as a high-stakes gambler didn't seem to qualify as lying low.
"And what's in it for me?" the Dug asked.
"The deep pleasure of helping out a friend?" Han suggested.
The Dug snorted.
"Okay then, a hundred credits," Han said. "But only when we reach Kenuun."
Leia expected the Dug to ask for payment up front—but surprisingly, he agreed.
"Call me Grunta," he said, drawing back his thick, weathered lips into a puckered smile. "It'd be my pleasure to take you where you need to go. Friend." The Dug jerked his wrinkled head at the others, his ear fins twitching. "What about them?"
Han leaned in close and lowered his voice. "You know how it is when you start racking up the credits. Plenty of hangers-on wanting a piece of the action. Follow me around everywhere, do whatever I say. They're harmless."
Leia fumed, but kept her mouth shut. The Dug set off down the alley on his long, spidery forelimbs, without waiting for them to follow.
"What makes you think we can trust him?" Leia murmured to Han, as they hurried after him.
"Relax, Princess," Han said. "You're in my world now."
Leia sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The galaxy was filled with so many strange beings, Luke marveled, as they followed Grunta through a network of grungy narrow alleys. He tried to imagine what it might be like to be a Dug, eating with his feet and walking on his hands, but it was no use. Not a surprise, Luke thought. He could barely imagine what it was like to be someone like Han, much less an alien from the other side of the galaxy.
"Seems we're going from the middle of nowhere to the edge of nowhere," Elad said lightly, falling into step with him. He didn't sound worried, just mildly curious. Han and Leia were following closely behind the Dug, with Chewbacca and the droids bringing up the rear. Luke felt an odd jolt of pleasure that Elad had chosen to speak with him. The pilot sometimes seemed so oddly removed—he smiled and laughed at all the right moments, but there was always something about him that seemed absent, as if a part of him was missing.
Maybe it is, Luke thought, remembering what Leia had told him about Elad's past. It must be hard for him to connect to people, after all he'd lost.
"So, Luke, how'd you end up with this motley crew in the first place?" Elad asked.
It seemed an odd question to ask out of the blue. "Why?"
"Just wondering." Elad shrugged. "You said you were from Tatooine, right? That's kind of a backwater—no offense."
Luke shook his head. "Trust me, I know. It's the definition of nowhere."
"And you're young, untrained…yet Leia puts so much faith in you."
"She does?" Luke asked, hoping he didn't sound as eager as he felt. He was surprised by Elad's words. Often he wondered if Leia had any faith in him at all. After all, it had been a long time since he'd done anything to deserve it.
"Sure. You can tell by the way she looks to you for advice, the way she listens. She trusts you. You've known her for a long time?"
"Not really," Luke said. "I only joined the Rebellion recently."
"But before the destruction of the Death Star, right?" Elad asked.
Luke stiffened. "You heard about that?"
Elad spit out a laugh. "The whole galaxy heard about that. Such a blow for freedom!" He shook his head. "I'll tell you, if I could meet the being who flew that ship…" He turned to Luke. "Well, you must have met him, right? Tell me, what was it like, coming face-to-face with the hero of the Rebellion?"
The hero of the Rebellion? Luke wanted nothing more than to admit the truth. Imagine, a man like Elad, admiring him.
But that would be against protocol.
"Never met him," Luke lied. "The Alliance is pretty big."
"Of course. I'm sure only people at the princess's level can keep track of everyone."
"Uh-huh," Luke said absently, barely listening. He stopped walking. A strange feeling had swept over him.
The Force! he realized suddenly. It was warning him of something. Something evil.
Elad?
It seemed impossible. But something was definitely wrong. Elad was asking something, but Luke could barely make out the words. The air around him had become a dense, viscous fluid, making it difficult to breathe, impossible to speak or move. Everything was now darkness.
And then, without warning, the feeling of doom vanished. Light returned to the world.
"Hey, you okay, kid?" Han asked. The whole group was staring at him, like he'd had some kind of fit.
"Fine." Luke drew in a few deep, even breaths. He glanced at Elad, whose concern looked just as sincere as everyone else's.
But was it?
Luke shook off their questions. "I just got dizzy for a second. Must have been the sun. Or maybe—"
An explosion of blasterfire drowned out his words. Grunta had opened fire on them!
Chewbacca lunged for the Dug, knocking the blaster out of his hands. But a thunder of engines rumbled overhead. Four swoops streaked toward them, all piloted by Dugs, their blasters drawn.
It was an ambush.
So this is what the Force was warning me about, Luke thought, furious with himself. If only I'd understood, rather than wasting time worrying about Elad. His hand flew automatically to his lightsaber, but then hesitated.
Han was right: What good was a weapon he didn't know how to use?
He pulled out his blaster instead, and returned fire.
It may have been a surprise attack, but this time, they were neither outgunned nor outnumbered. They were, however, at a serious disadvantage. The Dugs swooped in and out of range at will.
Luke and his friends stood in a tight clump, their backs to each other, their blasters aimed at the sky as the Dugs circled overhead.
"All we want is the money!" Grunta shouted over the roar of the engines. Chewbacca had wrestled him to the ground. He flailed about wildly, trying to wound the Wookiee with his sharp blade. "Give us that and you're free to go."
"Maybe we should tell them we don't have any money," Luke said quietly.
Han snorted. "Great idea. I'm sure they'll wish us a happy afternoon and send us on our way."
"You have a better idea?" Leia retorted. "After all, your plans have been working so beautifully today."
"I don't know about better, but—" Han pulled a sack from beneath his coat and waved it in the air. "You want the credits?" he shouted. "Come and get 'em!" The swoop dived toward the ground, a spindly Dug arm reaching out for the empty sack. Han dropped the bag and grabbed the arm instead, yanking hard. "Now, kid!" he yelled, as the Dug toppled off the swoop.
Without thinking, Luke took a flying leap for the swoop. It was farther and faster than he should have been able to jump—but somehow, he made it.
The Force, he thought gratefully, gripping the controls and pivoting around so that Han could clamber aboard behind him. He took off after one of the other Dugs, who rocketed upward in a steep vertical climb, then suddenly broke into a corkscrew dive. Luke followed, accelerating as they plummeted downward, zooming in so close that the Dug's exhaust warmed hi
s face. Han aimed over Luke's shoulder and launched a blast at the starboard engine. It blazed white hot, then exploded, a shower of fiery durasteel fragments raining down on them. As Luke ducked and weaved to avoid the flying shrapnel, the Dug's swoop dropped out of the sky. Luke pulled up seconds before crashing into the ground, and spiraled upward toward the next speeder.
"Who's next?" Han shouted gleefully.
The three remaining Dugs took one look at what remained of their friend, and decided they'd rather be alive and poor than rich and dead. The swoops took off toward the city center, disappearing into the skyline. Luke brought his swoop back to the ground. "Nice flying, kid," Han said. "Couldn't have done it better myself." A moment later, Han reconsidered. "Well, I could've. But no one else."
Back at ground level, Leia, Elad, and Chewbacca surrounded the wreckage of the fallen speeder.
"Where's Grunta?" Luke asked, looking around.
Chewbacca growled, and pointed a hairy finger at the crashed speeder. On closer inspection, Luke spotted a scaly Dug arm poking out from beneath the wreckage.
Elad grinned. "I said 'heads up.' Guess he didn't hear me."
"Now what?" Luke asked, feeling deflated as the rush of battle adrenaline leaked out of him. "We're right back where we started."
"Simple," Han said confidently. "We just have to…" His voice trailed off, as a strange, queasy expression came over his face. "I've got a bad feeling about…" He dropped to the ground, unconscious.
"Han!" Leia rushed to his side—but froze just before she reached him. She looked up, a puzzled expression on her face. Then she toppled to the ground.
"Poison darts," Elad said, tilting his head to look for a sniper in one of the buildings that rose above them. "We should—" Without warning, he dropped. Chewbacca followed a moment later, with a growl and a deafening thud.
Duck! The command seemed to come from within, but Luke obeyed it. As he did, a dart whizzed past, skimming his hair as it blew by.
"That was close, Master Luke," C-3PO said worriedly. "We must seek cover before—"
Luke darted to his left, just as another dart streaked past. Something, his instincts, his senses—the Force?—was warning him of the danger a split second before it arrived. But he couldn't dodge darts indefinitely. He had to find a way to help his friends.
They're just unconscious, he assured himself, looking away from their still bodies and pale faces. They can't be—
"You're a quick one," a voice said from behind him. Luke whirled around to find himself face-to-face with a white-armored face mask. "Not quick enough."
The stormtrooper raised a force pike and jabbed him in the chest. Luke's body shuddered uncontrollably as the electric shock blazed through him. There was an explosion of pain, and his legs collapsed beneath him.
The massive shock paralyzed his nervous system. He lay on his back, unable to move, staring up at the stormtrooper. Helpless.
Luke prepared himself to die.
The force pike struck again.
More pain.
And then, only darkness.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Luke opened his eyes. It was pitch-black. Binders around his wrists held his arms above his head. Similar bolts wrapped around his waist and ankles, pinning him against a cool stone wall.
Everything hurt.
He struggled against the restraints, but they held fast. There was no hope of reaching his lightsaber, which, as the world came back into focus, he saw was still attached to his belt. No hope of escape. Luke tried not to panic.
He was a Jedi, he reminded himself. He should be able to think his lightsaber into his hand. But he had no idea how to do so.
"Take it easy, kid," Han's voice floated out of the darkness. "Your eyes will adjust soon enough."
Chewbacca yowled from a few feet away. Luke thought he could make out a hulking shadow that might have been the Wookiee.
"Of course he's all right," Han said. "I wasn't worried."
Chewbacca growled something back.
"Only because it took him so long to wake up!" Han said defensively. "It's not my fault he has a weak constitution."
"Hey!" Luke protested feebly. The lingering effects of the force pike made his muscles feel like jelly. Even if he could escape from the binders, Luke feared he might not be able to stand, much less fight.
"I think we've been here for several hours," Tobin Elad said. "It's unclear what they're waiting for."
"Did the droids escape?" Luke asked. "Maybe they can help us."
"Maybe," Leia said, but she didn't sound particularly hopeful. Luke, his eyes still adjusting to the dark, peered across the room at her shadowy figure, pinned against the wall. He began struggling against the restraints again. Being trapped was bad enough. But imagining Leia dangling helplessly, while he could do nothing to save her? That was intolerable.
"Or maybe they're already scrap metal on some Imperial construction project," Han said. "Probably more pleasant than whatever's in store for us."
A door swung open, letting a shaft of bright light into the room. Luke winced at the sight of his friends chained to the walls. A trickle of dried blood ran down the side of Leia's face.
The stormtroopers white armor gleamed. "I've been ordered to ask if you're thirsty."
"Sure," Han said. "How's about you unlock these cuffs and you and I can go grab a drink? Get to know each other a little."
The stormtrooper crossed the room, stopping inches from Han's immobilized body. Luke held his breath.
Instead of a blaster, the guard pulled out a transparent container of liquid, holding it to Han's lips. "Drink."
Han did—then spat the water in the stormtroopers face.
For a moment, the guard didn't react. Then he pressed a button on his wrist console. Han shouted in pain as the binders around his wrists sizzled with electric current. His head dropped to his chest as he slipped into unconsciousness.
"Anyone else want a drink?" the stormtrooper asked, in a conversational tone.
Silence.
He shrugged and turned to leave the room. "Wait!" Luke shouted, a desperate plan taking shape.
The stormtrooper paused, turning to face Luke. "You want to test out your stun cuffs, too?"
Luke closed his eyes, trying to call on the Force. I need you now, Ben, he thought, remembering the day that Ben had first revealed himself as a Jedi Master. He'd used the Force to manipulate the minds of his enemies. The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded, Ben had said.
"You don't want to hold us prisoner anymore." Luke stared intensely at the guard. "You want to let us go."
There was a long pause.
"No I don't," the stormtrooper said. The door shut behind them, and darkness closed in again.
Hours crept by. Maybe days. There was no way to gauge the passing of time. Luke swallowed hard, his throat dry and scratchy. He wondered if the guard would ever return with more water. Or perhaps this was what the Empire had in store for them all along—a long, slow death by dehydration. They would hang here until their stomachs shrank, their bodies dried out, and they grew weaker and weaker, until they prayed for the end.
They didn't speak much. Everyone had retreated into their own thoughts. Perhaps they were formulating escape plans, but Luke doubted it.
Escape seemed hopeless.
Now there was nothing to do but wait.
Luke was asleep when the door opened again. It was the light that woke him. He squinted, unaccustomed to the brightness that filled the room. A Muun, taller and slimmer than the others they'd seen, stood in the doorway, his shimmering green robe stretching to the floor.
The Muun nodded, and the cuffs around Luke's wrists and ankles suddenly released. He tumbled to the hard floor with a painful thump. One by one, his friends dropped to the ground as well.
"Apologies for my guards," the Muun said in Basic, his nasal voice sounding unaccustomed to the vowels. "They tend to get carried away."
Luke slowly pulled himself
into a sitting position. When he tried to stand, his legs nearly gave out beneath him. Finally, he forced himself upright, sagging against the wall for support. Whatever the Muun had in store for them, Luke vowed he would find the strength to fight back.
They'd been stripped of their blasters. But at least he still had his lightsaber. That was something.
"Your guards?" Leia asked. She, too, was leaning against the wall. Chewbacca had pulled Han into a standing position and had a furry arm around the pilot. Only Tobin Elad stood firm and upright, apparently unharmed by the ordeal. "Not the Emperor's?"
The Muun gave her a faint smile. "Even the Empire has debts to repay," he said cryptically. "Occasionally I elect to take my remuneration in a non-monetary form. Having Imperial guards in my employ can prove useful from time to time, but occasionally…" He shook his head. "They can be a bit over-enthusiastic. And when that happens…well, I'm told you already know about Mak Luunim."
Luke exchanged a meaningful glance with Leia. So Luunim hadn't been killed by the Empire after all. Which meant his death likely had nothing to do with his connection to the Rebel Alliance.
"You ordered him killed?" Luke said. "Why?"
"Now, now, precision is everything," the Muun chastised him. "Muunilinst is a civilized planet—having someone killed would be a crime. But can I be held accountable for actions my guards take in their own defense?"
"We know nothing of Luunim's dealings with you," Leia said, without a single note of fear in her voice. "And we have no interest in avenging his death. We are not your enemies."
"That remains to be seen," the Muun told her. "First you show up at Luunim's dwelling. Then you masquerade as gamblers so as to track me down? You've been rather busy—and, it seems, very intent on involving yourself in my business." He smiled at the look of surprise on their faces. "Oh yes, I'm Nal Kenuun, the one you've been looking for. Now, would anyone like to explain why you continue to bother me?"