8

Late afternoon shaded into evening as Xizor left the house of his mistress, an almost palatial dwelling he had bestowed upon her as a going-away gift, though she did not yet know the affair was over. Xizor never spent more than a few months with any female. Because of his hormonal makeup, his ability to produce overwhelmingly powerful pheromones, he never had any trouble attracting new companions. But because it was so easy, he quickly tired of them, no matter how beautiful, no matter how clever. He had never found a companion he could consider his equal, and if he ever did, well, how would he be able to trust someone that adept? An interesting conundrum.

Moreover, once a meal was eaten, no matter how delicious, he preferred to dine on a different delicacy the next time …

A warm rain drizzled down from a condensation cloud hanging low over this section of the city. Such microweather cells were quite common at this season; a short distance away the skies might be crystal clear. As the darkness thickened and where clouds did not interfere, one could view the colorful discharge auroras and the red and blue running lights of the constant stream of ship traffic going to and coming from orbit, even here in the center of the cityglow.

The two bodyguards waiting at the exit accompanied Xizor to his armored luxury coach, where two more guards and the droid chauffeur waited. Xizor entered the vehicle and leaned back on the cloned-leather seat. His mistress would receive a call from Guri shortly, a generous severance payment and good wishes for her future. She would also be told never to attempt to contact Xizor again. Should she do so, the consequences would be … dire.

Thus far, only one of his ex-companions had tried to see him after their arrangement had been terminated. That unfortunate woman, he was told, had become part of a tall commercial plex on the Southern Enclave, courtesy of a giant factorylike construction droid that had somehow, alas, accidentally mixed her in with a vat of duracrete.

Life was full of dangers, even here.

“We’ll have dinner at the Menarai,” Xizor told the droid.

The coach lifted and swung smoothly up into the traffic pattern, bracketed front and back by bodyguards in their own airspeeders. The trio of vehicles reached cruising altitude and headed for Monument Park, where the planet’s single uncovered mountain peak jutted above the surface’s otherwise all-encompassing building complex. There was a restaurant that catered to the wealthy and powerful on a spire near the park, and from the shelter of the building one could view the mountain, even see through the restaurant’s transparisteel walls the religious fanatics who maintained vigil over the peak to prevent tourists from stealing the bare rock for souvenirs. One booked reservations for the Menarai months in advance and then only if one’s name was on the approved list. It was the most exclusive restaurant on the planet.

Exclusive, but even so, no matter how crowded the Menarai, no matter how it might upset a rich man to see an empty space when he’d waited months for a chance to dine there, a place was always kept open for Prince Xizor. If he took it upon himself to drop in, he was ushered to his private booth without delay. To most of the diners, Xizor would be simply another wealthy shipping magnate, no more important than a thousand other rich beings in the Imperial Center. They would wonder why he deserved such treatment when they did not—given that many of the patrons had more credits in their accounts than Xizor, at least in his guise of shipper.

None of them had more money than Black Sun.

Besides, Xizor was one of the place’s owners, though that was not common knowledge, and word had filtered down from the top: If Prince Xizor has to wait to be seated, the manager who allows such stupidity to occur will be looking for another job before he can stammer an apology. If he is lucky.

Xizor smiled as the coach looped away from the central nexus toward the mountain. He did not often flaunt his power, but good food was one of his small pleasures, and there was no cuisine better than that of the Menarai.

The rain had stopped, and now the shadows of night condensed and intensified. Soon Coruscant would be ablaze with its own light, quite a view from a ship as it approached from space. Nowhere else in the galaxy had nearly the entire surface of a world been covered with the building blocks of civilization. To live here was truly an experience, to be at the center of everything. Coruscant was the Empire’s acme; the head of Black Sun could hardly live anywhere else.

Now. What should he have for dinner? The fleek-eel was good. Kept alive until the moment of being dipped in boiling pepper oil, the eels would have been light-years away and swimming in the Hocekureem Sea that same morning. Also, the stuffed yam and plicto steak was excellent, as was the Giant Ithorian snail in flounut butter. Or perhaps the Kashyyyk land shrimp?

So many choices, none of them bad. Well. Rather than order in advance, perhaps he would just wait until he arrived at the restaurant and decide then. True, he would have to wait for it to be prepared, but then, patience was one of his virtues, after all.

Yes. That was what he would do. He would be … spontaneous.

It would be refreshing.

“Heads up, boys, another wave coming in,” Luke said into his comm.

“Copy that, Rogue Leader,” came a chorus in return.

“Uh-oh, I see a couple of TIE interceptors in this squad,” Wedge said.

“I got ’em, Wedge,” Luke said. He leaned on the stick and put the X-wing into a sharp turn to port. Interceptors were faster, and the newer ones wore heavier guns. He hoped the Force would stay with him. This was getting trickier by the moment. He couldn’t afford to fail; Han’s rescue depended on his keeping things going—not to mention the Rogues and his own life.

He hoped Leia and Lando were doing okay wherever they were.

Lando flew past jagged outcroppings of reddish rock that looked like giant fangs. The Falcon zipped through a three-sided tunnel with what seemed like very little clearance below and to both sides. The sky above was like the surface of a river, blue and serene.

Threepio said, “I think perhaps one of my circuits is overheating. I really ought to sit down and power off.” But the droid didn’t move. Like the rest of them, he seemed hypnotized by the flight through the canyon.

There was a long-range Imperial sensor post at the edge of the great plateau into which these deep canyons had been carved by time and water, Dash had said. The only way to avoid being spotted was to sneak in below the sensor scan.

It reminded Leia of Han’s desperate flight into the asteroid field after they’d fled Hoth, and the hiding place into which they’d scurried to avoid being captured by Vader—a place that had turned out to be something other than what it had first seemed.

Ahead of them, the Outrider flew. As Leia watched, the ship rolled, twisted on its long axis like a screw.

“Oh, man,” Lando said. “A couple meters either way and we’re bugs on a canopy and Dash is doing barrel rolls. He is crazy.”

Chewie said something.

“I hear that,” Lando said.

Threepio translated for Leia: “Chewbacca says that Master Dash must be part bird.”

Leia found herself nodding. Lando had been right. Whatever else he was, Dash Rendar could fly.

Luke kept the Rogues spiraling in and out, drifting the skirmish several degrees one way, then the other, to keep the Destroyer’s big guns from locking on them. They were doing okay so far.

“Look out, Dixie!” Wedge yelled.

Luke saw the danger. A TIE fighter had gotten below Dix and now bored in, firing at the X-wing’s exposed belly. Dix cut hard to his right and began a sharp starboard turn—

Too late. The deadly lasers raked the X-wing like fiery claws and ripped into it.

Dix’s ship blew apart in a fireball that ate the craft’s oxygen, then winked out, leaving nothing but blasted and ionized wreckage.

Luke felt his stomach roil. Oh, no. They’d lost Dix.

Suddenly it wasn’t a game. People were dying. Good people. He could never lose sight of that, not for a moment. It was only fun as long as nobody got hurt and that part never lasted. War was ugly. It got bad.

Now it got worse. The nightside Destroyer came around the terminator and began unloading its fighters.

No more time to think, no time to worry. Luke abandoned himself to the Force.

“Terminator coming up,” Dash said. “And we’re past the plateau’s sensor station. Ready to go up top?”

“I was just beginning to enjoy this,” Lando said. “But I suppose if we have to …”

They were approaching the nightside of the moon, and while the darkness wouldn’t hide them from Imperial sensors, it would offer them some cover from curious eyes.

“We’re about four minutes away from the shipyard,” Dash said over the comm. “Any luck at all and the tooloos operating the scopes there won’t notice us until we’re a minute or so out. Time they get their fighters scrambled, we’ll be right on top of ’em.”

“Copy,” Lando said.

Leia felt her stomach twist, go fluttery. The flight so far had been dangerous, but this was going to be a whole lot more so.

Lando shook his head, said, “This was not my idea, right? I want it on record that this was not my idea.”

Dark shadows began to paint the rock, lengthening so fast they could see them move as the Falcon flew deeper into night.

“Going up,” Dash said.

The Outrider lifted from the canyon.

“Blast!” Lando said.

Directly ahead of them, no more than a few hundred meters and getting closer fast, the canyon ended in a wall of dark rock.

Chewie roared.

Lando didn’t bother to answer as he pulled the Falcon up in a climb that made Leia’s stomach feel a lot worse.

They missed the collision by centimeters.

“Oh, better be careful,” Dash said as the Falcon rose into the night. “Did I mention the canyon dead-ends pretty soon?”

“Just wait, Rendar,” Lando said. “Next time I see you I’m going to punch you in the nose!”

“Yeah? You and what army?”

Chewie snarled.

Leia could figure that out easily enough.

Over the comm, Dash Rendar laughed.

Wedge’s voice over the comm seemed calm, but there was a lot of emotion under it. “Luke, we aren’t going to be able to keep this dance going much longer. Once that second Destroyer sets up a south pole, we’ll be in range of the big guns on one or the other.”

“I hear you,” Luke said. “Artoo, would they have had time to make it to the yard yet?”

Artoo whistled. Luke glanced at his sensor screen, saw the translation of the droid’s whistles. They could have made it, but barely.

“One more minute,” Luke said. “Then let’s make a pass at the daysider and get out of here.”

“Copy, Luke. You heard the man. Let’s throw a few more rocks and keep ’em jumping.”

Around Luke, TIE fighters and interceptors swarmed like saurian hornets from a disturbed nest. The Rogues had taken out a score of them, maybe more, and lost one of their own, plus another one damaged. Good flying, but given the odds, they couldn’t keep it up forever. He had to hope they had bought enough time.

A TIE fighter appeared in front of Luke, coming right at him.

Luke thumbed his own fire button, and the two craft sped directly at each other. Neither pilot blinked.

The TIE exploded, and Luke flew through the fireball.

Artoo’s exclamation sounded like “Yeeooww!”

“You okay, Artoo?”

The droid whistled. Yes, he was okay. He had been better, however.

Luke smiled. The party was getting raucous. It was time to pack it up and leave.

“There it is, dead ahead,” Dash said.

The lights of the shipyard blazed in the darkness, a beacon visible for a long way.

“We’ll pass right over your target in … thirty seconds.”

Leia leaned forward. Strained to see …

“There it is! There’s Fett’s ship!”

“Been fun, people,” Dash said. “See you around.”

Ahead of them, the Outrider pulled up in a hard climb and rocketed toward space.

“Where are you going?” Lando said.

“Hey, you didn’t pay me to shoot, only to guide. I’m outta here.”

“Dash, blast you!”

“Never mind,” Leia put in quickly. “We don’t need him.”

Chewie pointed at the sensor screen and said something.

“Oh, dear!” Threepio said.

“I wish you’d stop saying that,” Leia said. “What?”

Lando spoke before the droid could. “Company. We’ve got half a dozen TIE fighters on our tail!”

“Is that all? For a hotshot pilot like you, that shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

Lando shook his head. “Yeah, right. But just for fun, why don’t you and Chewie go see if the guns still work?”

The Wookiee came up. Leia was already on the way. “I’ll take the dorsal turret,” she said.

Chewie growled, and she took that for agreement.

Now things were really going to get interesting.