Star Wars, page 27
Probe droids, surveillance cams, stormtroopers on watch…
How had they been able to swim right up to the very viewports in the station, see everything, and just leave?
No. It had been too easy.
As Han and Leia raced across the ice back toward the docking bay where the shuttle waited for them, it felt as if the hot breath of the Empire was on the back of his neck. He knew he was going at a dangerous pace. He wasn’t like Yens; he didn’t know where the thin spots and cracks in the ice were. But even when they were back inside the shuttle, Han’s heart didn’t still.
“We need help,” Leia said, a little breathless from the run. Han nodded, already moving to the shuttle’s communicator.
His hands paused on the controls, hovering over the hail button that would call the Halcyon. Huh. His chin tilted as he bit back the self-deprecating smirk budding on his lips. All it took was a few years and the Skywalker twins to make him realize that he could ask for help. No strings, no favors, no paybacks. It was possible to just ask and get the aid needed. Who could have seen that as an option for Han Solo?
“What’s wrong?” Leia asked at his shoulder.
“Nothing.” Han hailed the Halcyon, hovering in orbit around Madurs, waiting on the guests to return the next day.
D3-O9 picked up immediately. “Halcyon to shuttle, how may I assist?”
Leia pushed Han aside. Han threw up his hands, but he knew this was a force he wasn’t going to win against. “Deethree, this is Leia Organa. I need to speak with Captain Dicto immediately.”
“Of course,” D3-O9 said. Han rolled his eyes. He had a feeling if the request had come from him, the droid would have disconnected the communication.
A moment later, another voice came through the shuttle’s speaker. “Captain Dicto here. What’s wrong, Princess?”
Leia glanced at Han, doubt in her eyes. They were not on an official ambassador assignment, nor was the Halcyon a warship capable of going on the offensive against a fully operational Imperial station equipped with a core blaster and, presumably, a full arsenal and a battalion or two of stormtroopers.
“Ask for someone from engineering,” Han suggested. He could tell Leia understood his meaning. While she and Han might be able to sabotage the station and buy some time before real help could arrive, an engineer from the ship might also be able to figure out how the star cruiser could give immediate aid and convince the captain of that course of action.
Leia shook her head, disagreeing with Han.
“Princess Organa?” Captain Dicto asked in the silence.
Leia turned back to the communicator. “Captain, we’ve seen evidence that there’s an Imperial stronghold on Madurs,” she said. “I’d like to request aid, and—”
“Evidence?” Captain Dicto asked, cutting Leia off. “What sort of evidence?” Before she could answer, he continued, “If the Empire has infiltrated this moon, we need to evacuate the tourists immediately, including you and Han. The safety of the Halcyon’s passengers is of utmost importance.”
Leia paled and looked up at Han with panicked eyes. Fleeing the moon would leave the people of Madurs in grave danger. Their world was literally cracking apart at their feet.
Han leaned over the communicator. “Captain, you’ll have to excuse my wife. She’s been in the Rebellion so long she sees everything through a soldier’s eyes.”
“A general’s,” Leia hissed.
“There’s no evidence of the Empire, and no evidence of danger to anyone. Don’t cause a panic among the crew or the passengers,” Han continued.
There was a moment of silence, and Han could almost picture the captain scowling. “Why did you hail the Halcyon then?”
Han cleared his throat. “I happened to notice that the shuttle that will take us back up to the Halcyon seems damaged. Not from sabotage,” he added, “despite my wife’s concerns. But I think you should send an engineer down to inspect it. Make sure it’s safe for flight.”
Another long moment passed, and Han raised his eyebrows at Leia in triumph. But then Captain Dicto’s voice filled the cockpit. “We just ran a diagnostic report on our end. All shuttles linked to the Halcyon are rigorously inspected, and we get constant updates remotely. We see nothing wrong with the shuttle,” he said.
That was less than helpful.
Leia stepped away from the communicator, waving her hand to indicate that Han should keep talking. Shrugging, Han leaned over the mic. “Captain, I really think you should send someone to investigate. I have a lot of experience as a pilot, and these small vessels—”
Out of the corner of his eye, Han saw Leia lift something huge over her head. He slammed his hand over the mic. “No,” he murmured at Leia.
“Why not?”
“That’s a flare shell!” Han waved his free hand at her. “It. Will. Explode.”
Leia looked like she was still considering it. Han shook his head forcefully. Shrugging reluctantly, Leia placed the flare shell back in its crate and grabbed a particle-suppressant foam fire extinguisher, about the size of a milliaw ball, painted bright orange. Han gaped as Leia deftly smashed the spherical metal unit on top of the shuttle’s navigational console, cracking the glass and denting the base.
An alarm beeped on the other side of the communicator, a tinny sound coming from the Halcyon monitors.
“Er,” the captain said, no doubt relooking at his diagnostic report.
Calmly, Leia shoved the hose of the fire extinguisher into the crack on the monitor and depressed the mechanism, filling the entire unit with a thick gray foam.
“My apologies!” Captain Dicto shouted over the comm unit. “Our prior scans must have been in error; we’re reading a major malfunction in the shuttle’s nav unit. I’ll send our lead engineer to the moon immediately!”
“Thanks,” Han said, grinning at Leia. He disconnected the comm and turned to his wife. Her grin at him was rapacious. “Where’d you learn a trick like that?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“From the best,” Leia said, dropping the empty canister and pulling him in for a kiss.
CHAPTER 44
LEIA
THE THERMAL VESTS HAD DRIED their clothes as they raced across the ice field, but Leia was more than happy to dump the breather in the shuttle’s recharger. It was better than some of the less manageable helmets or face shields she’d used before, but it was still uncomfortable. She happily zipped herself back into her fur-lined suit, cinching the silver belt at her waist.
“It’s going to be at least an hour before the engineer gets here,” Leia said. “We’ve got time.”
“Time for what?” Han stretched his arms over his head; the swim before hadn’t been exactly easy, nor had the climb back onto the ice.
“We need to get Prime Minister Yens on board.”
Han rolled his eyes. “He knows the Empire is here. I don’t think he’s thrilled, but he hasn’t been exactly helpful.”
“He didn’t think he could be,” Leia said. “He’s been warning us away from the start, not because he thought he had a chance at getting help, but because he feared we would be hurt.”
“Or he didn’t want the Imperial officer in control to think he sympathized with the enemy.”
“Regardless, we know now. And I’m certain that Yens isn’t pleased with the damage to Madurs from the station. We need to let him know that we intend to help and, more important, see what he can do to help.”
“He could have been helping his moon all along,” Han pointed out.
Leia crossed the shuttle to Han, reaching for his hand and weaving her fingers through his. “It’s hard to believe you can do anything when you think you’re alone,” she said softly.
“Not everything is an analogy, Leia.”
Leia’s fingers gripped harder, and she yanked Han’s arm to make him follow her. “Come on,” she ordered.
“Back and forth, across the ice,” Han groaned as they stepped out of the spaceport and their vests’ thermal disks kicked back on.
Leia rolled her eyes but did not dignify that statement with a remark. She knew—thanks to Riyola’s meticulous planning of the schedule—that the Halcyon group was set to return to the fishing docks after lunch, this time for an underwater tour in one of the larger submersion vessels.
Her stomach was aching from all the running around without a meal, so she pushed the thought of the lunch everyone else was having from her mind. The enormous fishing hole with the underwater dock was at least a shorter walk from the shuttle than if they’d had to go all the way back to the ice palace. She and Han made quick time. They waved at some of the anglers fishing from the edge of the ice as she and Han hurried across the bridge to the floating transparisteel building.
The captain from the first night’s reception met them at the door. “You are late for the tour,” he said. “The last submersion vessel has already departed from the underwater dock, I believe.”
“That’s fine,” Leia said. “We just want to speak to Prime Minister Yens.”
The captain seemed surprised. “You didn’t want to see an edont? We have some smaller vessels designed for two to three net fishers. They’re not as fine as the edont-viewing vessels, but—”
“No,” Leia said, too abruptly. “Thank you. But no. We need to find the prime minister.”
“Is everything okay?”
Han sighed, clearly losing patience. “He’s still at the underwater docks?”
“Yes, but—”
Han grabbed Leia’s elbow and steered her past the captain, heading to the turbolift. In moments, they stepped out on the dock.
Prime Minister Yens stood near a series of hatches. The larger ones were sealed, and through the clear transparisteel windows, Leia could see that the vessels that had been docked there had already launched. As the captain had indicated, there were a handful of smaller hatches that were open, revealing submersible vessels that were clearly used by the fishers, littered with nets and scythes, perfect for either capturing large schools of fish or harvesting the long stalks of ila kelp that grew in spots close to the surface.
“They’re here,” Prime Minister Yens said into a comlink, then he looked up at Leia and Han. The captain must have alerted him that they were coming. “How can I help you?” Yens asked politely.
With so many of the vessels launched, the dock seemed smaller than when they’d passed it on the tour the day before. The lights were dimmer, too, with strange patterns cast along the walls and floor from the underwater signals used to guide vessels to the proper bays. Leia took a step closer to Han.
“Prime Minister Yens,” she said, “we know that the station you said was destroyed is not, in fact, even damaged. We know what it’s doing to your moon. And we want to help.”
Yens showed no emotion on his face, and that, more than the darkness and the shadows, unnerved Leia. This straightforward confrontation with the truth should have made him angry or relieved, sad to be caught or joyous to have help. But the blank emptiness was…eerie.
“The Empire was never supposed to come here,” the prime minister stated in a flat voice. “They sent an ambassador, and at first, I was told to prepare as if for another art expo.” He laughed bitterly. “That’s why we built the guesthouses in the courtyard. The ambassador told us that Madurs would be integral to the galaxy. She encouraged us to spend our time building up the little city in preparation. But that was just a distraction so we wouldn’t notice the groundwork laid for the mining processes. When it came time to advance the negotiations, it turned out the only thing the Empire wanted was carnium. I turned her down.”
Yens stared blankly, his eyes unfocused, as he continued. “The ambassador left that meeting on her shuttle, and then the station attacked before that night. That whole hulking station we thought was just in orbit had spent all that time scouting where to strike. We never thought something that big would actually land on the surface. To be fair, I don’t suppose it did. It slammed into the ice. Apparently, the best mining spot was right next to the old city. That first blow destroyed it all.”
His words were soft but Han and Leia heard the heartbreak in his tone. They had both seen the broken buildings, the rubble. The ice quakes they had felt since then were nothing compared with the initial impact.
No one on Madurs had expected it, least of all the prime minister, who’d thought the negotiation process would mean he had a voice for his people. “They wrapped us in chains while I was making polite conversation,” he said.
Leia shook her head. If one is put in chains, one should turn them into a weapon and squeeze the life from one’s oppressor. She felt the rage boiling inside her, a dark thing that swept through her. And for a moment, she allowed it to seep into her bones, tighten her muscles, remind her of the time she had looked in Jabba’s eyes after the light had left them.
She had hated every single moment on Tatooine except for that one.
She had never felt more powerful than in that instant.
I understand why he did what he did, Luke had told her on Endor. I don’t agree with it, of course, but I understand it. Don’t you?
Leia closed her eyes.
Don’t you?
She opened her eyes. She focused on the prime minister. She felt rage, but he exuded grief. She could see that, if she looked.
“How many died?” Leia asked gently.
Prime Minister Yens’s eyes were hollowed out and haunted. “Two thousand, two hundred and forty-eight.”
Leia could picture it all too well. If she was heartless, she could even see the logic of it. The aftermath would be so catastrophic, there would be no way to fight back. The grief that followed the entire society—the guilt, the tragedy—sometimes that was the emotion that sparked a rebellion. But those flames could turn inward and burn a heart to ash.
“And they won’t go?” There was a lilt to Han’s voice, as if he were asking a question, but everyone in the room knew the answer. “Despite the Empire falling, I mean.” Because no one thought the Imperial station cared about the destruction of the moon.
The prime minister’s laugh was bitter. “They say it’s all operations as usual.” His eyes cut to Leia. “Politics don’t change the ‘deal.’ ” He spat out the last word, but then his eyes shifted, focusing away from Leia, as if he didn’t want to face her with his next words. “But they promise to leave soon,” he said. “They’ll pay the invoices, the reparations. And they’ll go.”
“Sure, when this moon cracks apart or is too polluted to be habitable,” Han said.
“They’ve received orders to wrap it all up soon. The lead officer assures me—”
“Orders from whom?” Leia demanded. Not the Emperor. Not Tarkin or Vader. They’d cut the head off the Empire; why wouldn’t it die?
“From me,” a woman said, striding forward. She had been on the far side of the underwater dock, hidden in the shadows. As she came closer, something red flashed near her temple—a cybernetic eye, whirring as it scanned over Leia and Han. The woman’s blond hair was slicked back in so tight a bun that she nearly seemed bald. She wore the crisp white uniform of an officer in the intelligence division of the Empire, and she walked with the certain confidence of someone with deadly experience.
“May I introduce Ambassador and Senior Commander Alecia Beck,” the prime minister said. His head hung low, a sign of both respect and defeat.
Beck strode past him as if he were nothing. She ignored Leia as well, her red eye targeted on Han, who tensed beside her. Leia’s gaze flicked between the Imperial officer and her husband and back again. “You two have a history?” Leia guessed.
“Solo,” Beck snarled. “You cost me a promotion. I’ve been waiting a long time to kill you.”
CHAPTER 45
HAN
“YEAH, SHE’S, UH, SHE’S NO fan of mine,” Han said. “She thought it would be best to torture information out of a rebel prisoner, and we disagreed on that point. Guess she held a grudge.” Although he kept his tone light, Han was careful to keep Beck in his vision. She snapped her neck to the side, letting an audible crack release. The senior commander smirked at the way Leia cringed at the sound.
Han shifted his arm, touching Leia’s hand. A warning. He knew Beck.
He knew her aim.
Leia, however, seemed to misinterpret his signal. “Why are you still here?” she demanded, clearly hoping to antagonize the senior commander. “The Empire has fallen.”
Beck laughed. “I don’t believe rebel propaganda.”
“We’re not rebels anymore,” Leia said viciously. “We’re the victors.”
Han saw Beck’s hand move a second before Leia noticed it, and he used that second to slam against her with his whole body, knocking them both to the ground before the blaster shot through the space where they had been standing. Emotionless, Beck shifted her stance and her aim.
“Run, run, run,” Han said urgently, dragging Leia up. He lingered just long enough to know that Leia was steady on her feet and already racing in one direction before he darted off in the other, hoping to draw Beck’s fire away from his wife.
It worked—for a second. Beck seemed unsure who to shoot first. Leia was the bigger enemy to the Empire, but Beck had a personal vendetta against Han.
Han cast a look behind him just in time to see Beck leveling her weapon at Leia, who had the sense to zig rather than go in a straight line as she ran toward the relative protection of a stack of crates near the turbolift. Carbon scoring marred the floor and wall as Beck chased Leia with blasts, her gun steady and her eye focused. It was mere luck that had kept Leia from being hit so far.
Beck’s loyalty to the dead Emperor was stronger than her personal need to see Han dead.
