The small ship, drawn in by the tractor beam, was landed automatically
in
the same docking bay as a very battered freighter.
No one noticed the small vent under the afterburners opening,
or the two men who slid out, one young and dark, the other much older.
The Imperial petty officers who made a life-form scan overlooked the
crates of droid parts scattered about the hold, since the cargo
manifest stated tech droids for a farming world. The organic
captain had bailed out when his life-support failed, according to
the log reader outside the missing escape pod.
The two men, cloaked in Force-generated dimness, passed unnoticed
into an empty guard station. Obi-Wan Kenobi seated himself at
a
terminal and began tapping the station nets.
"Artoo would have found it more quickly, but we couldn't risk him.
Here. Go and find Princess Leia. I will deactivate the
tractor beam."
"Sir, my ship doesn't have amenities for 3."
"We'll steal another flight suit and I shall be fine in the hold.
Quickly, son, and the Force will be with us both."
"Yes, General." Biggs studied the locator and considered his options.
He would skulk about, take an officer and steal the uniform.
One
more officer on a place this size wouldn't be noticed, especially near
the officers' quarters. He wondered why she was being held there
instead of in the detention area.
Carefully he moved through the corridors, working his way
nearer with each cautious turn. The man ahead looked about his
size, and
when he stepped into an empty conference room, Biggs followed.
He'd meant to strike quickly, but the Imperial's reflexes
were faster than his.
In the brief scuffle, he gained the upper hand and took
a good look at his opponent. "Solo? What are you doing
here?"
He'd met the smuggler one evening in Chalmun's while he was trying
to
find a cargo. He didn't much like the smug Corellian,
or Chalmun's, and had avoided the place since, knowing there
was nothing legal to ship there.
"Better question is what're you doing, Darklighter?
With the reward out for the Rand Ecliptic mutineers,
you've got nerve leaving the Rim."
"I was taking a passenger to Alderaan, but it's not there."
"I know. I watched it destroyed three days ago.
Why'd you jump me?"
"Tell me why you're here and in a rankless uniform."
"I'm the personal aide to Lord Vengar."
"Lord Vengar? He's here?"
"The Emperor left this morning so he's not only here,
he's in charge."
Biggs, knowing time was slipping, pulled his blaster.
"Give me your uniform."
"What?"
"I need your uniform. You can give it to me,
or I'll blast you and take it."
"Save me from heros and idealists!
One guess, you're here for the Princess."
"Good guess. Too good. Now I have to shoot you."
"No, look, I want her safe too. Wouldn't mind getting out of here myself."
"Why?" Biggs finally let the older man up, watching how
stiffly he rose. "You OK?"
"Let's answer both and say Lord Vengar's definition of personal aide
doesn't include recording correspondence. That punch
you landed isn't helping much, though."
Biggs rubbed his own jaw ruefully. "You didn't do
too badly either." He didn't want to think about Luke and
the smuggler spending time together. He wasn't sure he
liked what he was piecing together from the spaces in Solo's words.
"If you don't mind the old posing-as-a-prisoner-to-
move-freely scam, I can take you back to our quarters
and get you a uniform. And we can both take the Princess
from there. Lord Vengar often sends me to bring her
to him."
Biggs agreed, not really trusting Solo, but knowing
the Corellian had a reputation for personal honor.
He hoped to hear more about Luke as the plan unfolded.
They made it to the Officers' Quarters without incident,
and Han shoved Biggs quickly through the doors before anyone
could see.
"They'll either think you're a present for him, or
that I'm sneaking around."
"You're his lover?" Biggs managed. He couldn't keep the shock,
hurt and slight jealousy out of his voice.
"No. Love isn't part of this." Han turned to program the
autovalet. "I'm his, like he owns his boots and lightsaber.
And I'm tired of it. If all of Kashyyk wasn't hostage to my
good behavior, I'd fly you out myself.
Can you fly a YT-1300?"
"Yes." Biggs was looking about the room, and
found the holo of Luke and his father. Badly shaken, he
moved away, seeing nothing of his boyhood friend in this
near-sterile room.
"Take the Princess out on the Falcon. It's faster than
anything you could be flying. Just just don't mess with any of
the
modifications. I'll find a way to get out and get her
back." The autovalet beeped, and dispensed a lieutenant's uniform
in Biggs' size. "Get dressed. You have a princess to rescue.
Do you have a plan?"
"Yeah. It involved mugging you for your uniform, stealing a spacesuit
and getting her out that way."
"Don't you have a spare? Unless you're not alone..."
"Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Princess sent him a message. Droids!
We've got to get the droids onto your ship."
"You're a lieutenant now. Go down and have some stormtroopers
do it.
Invoke Lord Vengar if you need to. I'll give you a ten minute
head start,
and go get the princess. I can bring her aboard, ostensibly
on an inspection tour, you two dump me off the ship and leave.
Damn. Wish I could come."
"Not with a whole planet hostage. That changes, take the Shooting
Star
and get out."
They clasped forearms in the manner of spacers.
As Biggs reached the lift, he turned.
"Take care of her!" Han said. "I'll get your Star back to you."
Han paced out the ten minute wait and then strode casually
to Leia's quarters. The stormtroopers, used to him, waved him
through.
"Where to today, Mr. Solo?" The princess stood up a bit too carefully.
"Not far I hope." Her walk was hesitant as she came to the door.
"The General demands your presence." Mindful of the cameras,
he was cryptic.
She tucked her arm in his and pulled his face down as if
to kiss his cheek. "Who?"
"Obi-Wan," he answered, giving the name Biggs had given him.
She tucked her hand in his arm as she had so often these
last few days, and went with him. He set a slow even pace, but
every few steps, her jaw clenched and once she stumbled.
"Are you hurt, Your Highness?"
"Just uncomfortable. You're right. Morning sparring can
be a bit vigorous.
I apologize for calling you a bad liar."
She watched his reaction carefully. Six or seven emotions
warred over his set face, but none the expected jealousy.
Concern, and relief seemed to be winning, oddly enough. Anger
at her cold calculation was there, too.
"Sure you want to leave, Princess? Or are you enjoying your morning
workouts enough to stay?"
She stared at him in shock. He had never said anything that harsh
to her.
"How dare you?" she finally spat. "How dare you suggest I would
betray
my cause for a man? Especially the son of our enemy!"
The lift arrived cutting off further arguement. A Captain and
two troopers
joined them. They stood at the back of the lift, Leia's hand
still firmly
on Han's arm, and waited.
"Heard our next destination?" The contempt for both of them was
clear
in the Captain's voice. He stared at the level numbers.
"Dantooine," Han answered, grinding his teeth at the Captain's tone.
"Thanks to this lovely traitor."
"Yes, lovely," the Captain commented, turning his attention to the
Princess. He lifted her chin and she resisted the urge to snap
at his fingers like a bad-temper caniad. "Has our handsome Dark
Lord convinced you to join us yet?" Leia kept her face immobile
and glared at him. "Is she any good, or does he share the
sweetmeats that drop in his lap?"
"I suggest you remove your hand from the Princess' face
at once, Captain Azar," Han said in the quietest, most deadly voice
he had.
"Lord Vengar does not share. What is his, he keeps. I
would regret having to tell him of your imposition. He
has spoken of the need to keep discipline lately."
The Captain's hand dropped away as if the Princess' jaw were afire.
One of the troopers surreptitiously pressed the button for
the next floor, and they left hastily.
They rode the rest of the way to the docking bay in silence.
Han led her through, as if on a cursory tour while on the way
elsewhere.
"And this was my ship," he said, more for the benefit of the listening
stormtroopers than the princess.
"That piece of junk flies? You're braver than I thought."
He pointedly ignored the amplified snickers. Apparently the entire
battlestation knew what was going on in Lord Vengar's quarters.
He caught a swift glimpse of Biggs in the cockpit.
As he and Leia walked toward the ramp, something caught the
stormtroopers' attention. They jogged off toward a set of blast
doors.
Han heard a distinctive hum. He shoved Leia toward the ramp.
"Get aboard, now!"
In the hallway, an old man with a blue lightsaber was
parrying Luke's every stroke. Han started toward
the duel, at least attempting to look as if he was
supporting his superior. Luke caught sight of him,
and snarled. His words were barely audible over
the distance.
"And you turn my people against me, old man! Just
as you turned my mother against my father.
Did she welcome you into her bed to cuckold him the same
way my grandmother welcomed your master when he cuckolded you?"
"You know not of what you speak, young Luke.
You have tasted only the Darkness."
"I have the Force, which you cut me off from.
I have my father, whom you tried to murder!"
The anger in the boy was palpable, affecting everyone.
"You cannot win this battle, Darth. If you
fall, there is not even the Force for you.
If I fall, I shall become more powerful than you
can imagine."
"Jedi lies and riddles. You are weak, old man.
And you will pay for all your crimes."
Distracted by his anger, Luke's parry was a half-second slow,
and the blade wasn't there anymore, but slicing through
bone and flesh to send his lightsaber dropping to
the floor, as lifeless as the hand that still held it.
The blast doors began to close, and the last words Han caught
were "You are dead," directed at him.
Han marveled as the old man ran lightly toward the ship,
using his saber to deflect blasterbolts from the stormtroopers
with the ease of long practice. He
saw Kenobi was headed for the Shooting Star and groaned aloud
at what he was about to do.
"This way, old man!" He directed the Jedi onto the Falcon and
bolted up the
ramp himself. "Darklighter! Fire us up! And get in
the right hand chair!"
Falling into his chair, much missed in the last weeks,
Han noticed that Biggs had run a precise if fussy preflight.
He made one of the fastest take offs in a life characterized
by rapid departures. The old man, still breathing hard,
sat in the seat behind him.
"Hope you got that tractor beam out of commission,
or this will be a real short ride."
The Princess was strapped into the comm seat, holding tightly as
he made the jump. The chaos on the station was apparently
great enough that no pursuit was launched.
In the safety of hyperspace, Han relaxed. Introductions
were made all around, and he excused himself to his cabin.
The ship had been left intact, and he changed out of the
uniform, delighting in his freedom. His spare shirt was
still folded, and he found a second vest. He still felt naked
without a gunbelt, but he could replace that soon enough.
In the main compartment, Biggs and Obi-Wan were assembling
an astromech droid. "What's so important about the droids?"
"This one carries the tactical readouts of the battlestation,"
Leia answered. "I only hope when it is analyzed, a weakness can
be found.
This isn't over yet."
"Not while they've got my buddy grounded, it isn't." Han agreed.
"That's all you care about, isn't it?" she snapped. "Your friend,
your ship, your skin! I'm surprised you aren't
charging for this rescue!"
Confused by the sudden rush of anger, and tired of holding his
own tongue, Han exploded. "Maybe I should! I haul your
pretty
double-buns out of Lord Vengar's bed, get you back into
the fight for your cause and save your life, and you're mad at me?
I should charge, but no reward is worth this!"
He stomped back to his cabin, and dropped onto his bunk,
feeling as if he'd just been batted around by the Force
Luke had used on him so often. Leia's anger had the same feel
to it
for some reason.
Leia stalked to the small cabin she'd been given, and tried to
figure out what was wrong. She analyzed her behavior the last
few
days and was shocked at herself. She had welcomed her enemy into
her
bed, and even now desired him. She could feel him, in pain, and
resting
under a meshy haze of drugs. She wished she were there to comfort
him
and shook herself free of the thought.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, last of the Jedi, sat glumly in the Falcon's
forward compartment. His failure was complete. He had lost
father and son and now the daughter as well. When Leia had
lashed out at the pilot, only he had seen the dark wall
of Force rise off of her to batter at him. What amazed him was
how well the pilot shielded himself from the attack.
He was not Force-sensitive, but had apparently endured
many such assaults. The Force-stench of the Sith was
fading off of him with each moment. And what had the man said
about
taking the Princess from her brother's bed? Did they know?
And was it possible? Force no! He tried to
find his center, but meditation wouldn't come.