Eighteen

After several minor surgeries, a skin graft, bacta wraps, and a three-day healing trance, Luke was beginning to feel almost fit. His wounds were closed, his burns had healed into red blotches, and his ankle felt ready for action.

Leia looked much better, too. It would be some time before her hair returned to its normal length. But her burns had faded to inconspicuous scars that would vanish entirely after a few more bacta treatments. And when she turned her body, it was with a natural grace that suggested the gashes on her back no longer troubled her.

In short, Luke and Leia were ready to take the fight to the enemy—just as soon as Omad Kaeg actually found the enemy. Assisted by R2-D2 and C-3PO, Omad was on the Falcon’s flight deck, flying blind from one long-lost repeater beacon to another. Luke felt fairly sure that the young tug captain was completely adrift navigating in the Bubble. Still, he admired the way Omad answered any inquiry about their location with a broad smile and cheery Almost there!

It kind of reminded him of Han.

Everyone else was gathered in the crew lounge, developing a plan to rescue Han and neutralize the enemy. Given the group’s many disadvantages, Luke was fairly certain that neutralize would end up meaning kill. But they were trying to keep their options open. Jedi were supposed to be the good guys, after all.

“Five Bessies isn’t much of a squadron, but it’s more than we have,” Lando was saying. “There’s no question—we have to hit the hangars with a couple of concussion missiles on the way in.”

To emphasize his point, he tapped the square marked HANGAR on the schematic that Dena Yus had drawn of the Qrephs’ secret base.

Tahiri thought for a moment, then put her finger on the long rectangle that abutted the hangar.

“I don’t know,” she said. “That hangar is pretty close to the barracks annex. If that’s where they’re keeping Han—”

“It won’t be,” Yus interrupted softly. She was seated in front of the engineering station on the other side of the lounge, slumped in her chair and looking even worse than when they had brought her aboard the Falcon. “Captain Solo will be across the courtyard from the hangar, in the laboratory wing.”

“The laboratory wing?” Leia demanded, looking up from the schematic. Her expression grew stormy. “Why there?”

“Because the Qrephs don’t take prisoners, and they’re too arrogant to believe they need hostages.” Yus did not flinch as she said this. “If they still have Captain Solo, it’s because they are using him for an experiment.”

“What kind of experiment?” Leia asked.

Yus shook her head. “If I knew, I would … tell you.” It seemed to take all of her energy just to say that much—which was strange after so many days of medical care. Her blaster burns showed no sign of infection, but she was growing weaker and more jaundiced, almost by the hour. “Trust me.”

Leia glared at her for a moment, then looked back to the schematic. “So, on the first pass, we dump a couple of concussion missiles on the hangar and drop two YVHs on the residential annex.”

“Battle droids?” Ben asked. He was kneeling on the deck adjacent to the table, tinkering with some cables and circuit boards. He looked up at Lando. “You brought YVHs?”

“Of course I brought YVHs,” Lando said, frowning. “This is Han we’re talking about.”

Ben winced. “Sorry, I guess I meant … what are they doing in the Rift?”

“They were for a decoy program that Lando hoped to launch against the pirates,” Yus said.

“Yeah,” Lando said. He shot her a glare. “I guess now we understand why the program never made it past the pilot stage.”

Yus dropped her gaze. “I am sorry.”

A moment of awkward silence followed as the apology went unaccepted.

Then Tahiri said, “Anyway, about these YVHs. How many and what series?”

“Only six,” Lando replied. “But they’re YVH-Eight, S-series.”

Tahiri whistled. “Space assault models.” She smiled and turned to Lando. “I could kiss you.”

Lando’s expression brightened. “Well, under the circumstances, I don’t think Tendra would—”

Tahiri laughed. “Later.”

“Back to the plan,” Leia said, clearly irritated by the diversion. “On the first pass, we drop two YVHs on the residential annex, then take the other four and do a hot-drop into the laboratory wing ourselves.”

“What targets do I program into the YVHs?” Lando asked.

“Anything with green scales or beskar’gam armor,” Luke said. “But not the Qrephs or their Sith friends. Those, we need to handle ourselves.”

“I can do that,” Lando said. “But do we really need a hot-drop? That courtyard looks big enough for a landing, and we’ll have the Falcon’s laser cannons to cover—”

“Sorry, Lando,” Leia said. “We need you and Omad flying top cover.”

“Top cover?” Lando sounded insulted. “Just because I don’t have the Force—”

“And aren’t trained in Jedi assault tactics,” Ben interrupted.

“Okay, that, too,” Lando said. “But let’s assume Dena is right about the Qrephs letting only a few Mandalorians know about this place. You’re still going to be outnumbered four-to-one by Mandos—and at least twenty-to-one by Nargons.”

“Which is why we need you to be sure our getaway ship stays in one piece,” Leia said. She rose on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “Lando, I love you for wanting to come, but … my husband, my plan.”

Lando fell silent, then finally dropped his chin and nodded. “Okay, but you’d better come back.” He cast a sidelong glance at Ben, then added, “All of you.”

Luke clamped a hand on Lando’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll do our best, I promise.” He turned to Ben. “What do you have for us? Anything yet?”

“Sure—take a look at this.”

As Ben spoke, the holograph of a black angular shape—two pyramids stuck base-to-base—appeared in front of R2-D2’s projector.

Ben looked across the lounge to Yus. “Does that thing look like what you’ve been calling Base Prime?”

“Yes, but Base Prime actually sits on its surface,” Yus said, looking surprised. “The Qrephs refer to the thing itself as the artifact.”

“The artifact?” Luke asked. “What did they mean by that?”

Yus shrugged. “They didn’t discuss it with me,” she said. “Sometimes I heard the Mandalorians call it ‘the station,’ but to the Qrephs it was always just ‘the artifact.’ I’m not sure that any of them actually knows what it is.”

“Let’s hope not,” Lando said.

Yus’s brow rose. “Why not?” she asked. “Do you know what—”

“Why don’t you let us ask the questions?” Leia interrupted.

Yus studied Leia in silence for a moment, then said, “I thought I might have won a little trust when I helped you and Master Skywalker escape the Ormni.”

“We’ll talk trust when I have Han back,” Leia said. “Until then you’re still the lying sleemo who helped the Qrephs murder thirty thousand beings. Clear?”

Yus’s expression grew even sadder. “I understand why you blame me. But you must also realize by now that I have every reason to help you rescue Captain Solo—that I must help you.”

“Why would that be?” Leia asked. “And don’t expect me to believe you’ve suddenly grown a conscience.”

Yus looked confused. “You really haven’t figured it out?”

“Figured out what?” Luke asked.

“That I am one of the Qrephs’ creations—a biot,” Yus replied. “My only hope of survival is to help you find Base Prime.”

Leia’s eyes narrowed. “How convenient.”

Luke motioned for Leia to be patient, then asked, “And a biot is what, exactly?”

Yus dropped her eyes. “You’ve already had several fights with the first generation,” she said. “The Nargons were designed as soldiers. But they lack the judgment to work on their own, so the Qrephs had to hire Mandalorians to oversee them.”

Lando scowled and looked past Luke toward Leia. “Are you buying this?” he asked. “She looks as much like a Nargon as I do.”

“Not on the outside,” Yus said. “But on the inside I’m basically the same thing as they are: a sentient being, grown on a vanalloy skeleton, with fiber-optic filaments for nerves—and a cybernetic memory chip embedded in my brain.”

“You’re some sort of cyborg?” Ben asked, incredulous.

“You can’t expect us to believe that, either,” Luke said. “Your Force presence would feel … well, more different than it does.”

“Because I’m not a cyborg,” Yus said. “A cyborg is an organic being enhanced by technology. A biot is a living being grown around an inorganic core.”

Everyone fell quiet, no doubt trying to imagine—as Luke was—the unconscionable applications of such technology.

Misinterpreting their silence, Yus said, “I’ll prove it to you.” She motioned to the captured 2-1B droid, then extended her arm. “Show them.”

The droid quickly injected her forearm with an analgesic, then produced a scalpel and began to cut. When red blood spilled from the wound, Leia let her hand drop toward the lightsaber hanging on her belt.

“Nargon blood is blue,” she said. “That looks just like mine.”

“Because I am supposed to look human,” Yus replied. “I am supposed to blush. I am supposed to bleed and feel pain. I am supposed to pass.”

The droid used its suction attachment to draw the blood out of the wound, then peeled back a small flap of skin. Yus shakily raised her arm, and Luke saw the silver gleam of vanalloy.

“Is this proof enough?” Yus asked, directing the question at Leia—and looking even more pale than she had a few moments earlier. “Or do I need to show you my fiber-optic nerves?”

“I’ll take your word for the nerves,” Leia said. “But I still have my doubts about your change of allegiance.”

Yus sighed. “You’re right. I haven’t changed allegiance. I could never raise a hand directly against the Qrephs—the chip in my brain would explode.” She turned to Luke. “But I do want to live. That is the reason I’ve done … well, just about everything.”

“And helping us find Base Prime helps you stay alive?” Luke asked. “How, exactly?”

“I can’t live without a regular injection—an enzyme cocktail the Qrephs create at Base Prime. But they don’t consider me useful any longer, so they’ve stopped supplying me.”

Yus paused. Her eyes began to burn with real hatred—at least it felt that way in her Force aura—then she glanced toward the 2-1B droid.

“They didn’t even think I was worth killing. They left me in the infirmary to die slowly and alone.” She pointed an accusing finger at the droid. “While he monitored my decline and recorded the whole process.”

Luke cocked a brow at the 2-1B. “Is that true?” he asked. “You didn’t try to help her?”

“Her biochemistry is unique,” the droid said, sounding almost defensive. “It’s impossible to synthesize a replacement without access to the proper formula.”

“And it’s impossible to reverse-engineer the enzymes,” Yus said. “That’s how the Qrephs controlled me. It’s how they control all their biots. We obey or they stop providing the enzymes.”

“All their biots?” Leia echoed. “I’m not sure I want to ask this—but how many like you are there?”

“I’m guessing dozens,” Luke said. He turned to Yus. “Isn’t that how the Qrephs have been taking over so many conglomerates? By infiltrating biots like yourself into their management?”

Yus looked away. “It was how they were trying to take Lando’s operation.” She cast an apologetic look in Lando’s direction—and was rewarded with an icy glare. “But I wouldn’t know about any other acquisitions.”

“You must have some idea.” Leia crossed the deck to Yus and braced both hands on the arms of her chair. “You’ve already said you were part of a generation of biots. How many generations are there? And how many in a generation? A hundred? A thousand?”

Instead of shrinking away, Yus met Leia’s gaze evenly. “Does this mean we have a deal?”

“With you?” Lando scoffed. He turned to Luke. “Be careful, old friend. Dena may be desperate for those so-called enzymes, but that doesn’t mean helping us is her best shot at getting them. For all we know, she might be hoping to trade us for a lifetime supply.”

“Clearly you don’t understand the Qrephs,” Yus said. “They may promise a lifetime supply, but they’ll deliver only as long as it suits them. That’s why I need you—to help me enter Base Prime and find the formula for my enzymes.”

“Then we’ll make the same deal with you,” Luke said. “We’ll do what we can for you—as long as you’re useful to us.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” Yus turned back to Leia. “To answer your questions, I don’t think there could be more than thirty biots in my generation and a few hundred in the Nargons’ generation. The lab isn’t large, and maturation takes two years—at least it did for me.”

“Two years? That’s impossible,” Luke said, starting to grow angry with her. “The Qrephs have been in the Rift less than a year.”

Yus’s expression grew more confident. “You need my help even more than I realized, Master Skywalker,” she said. “You’re not accounting for the time dilation. A year in the Rift is closer to five years at Base Prime.”

“Time dilation?” Luke echoed. “Are you saying the lab is …”

He stopped, trying to understand exactly what Yus was suggesting. Every starship pilot knew that as gravity and velocity increased, time slowed relative to an outside observer. But Yus seemed to be describing the opposite effect—that time moved faster in the lab.

“Are you saying the Qrephs have found a way to accelerate time?” Tahiri asked, finishing the question for Luke.

“It’s not a way so much as a place,” Yus replied. “That’s why they built Base Prime where they did. Time seems to run faster on the artifact than it does in the rest of the Rift.”

“Which sort of makes sense, given what’s happening in the Bubble,” Ben said. “If space is expanding around the artifact, it’s not too surprising that time might be dilated on it.”

“Or that the Qrephs would find a way to exploit the fact,” Lando said, sounding almost envious. “If I could expand my production time without affecting my delivery date—that’s a heck of an advantage, even for a legitimate business.”

“But what does that have to do with Han?” Leia asked. “Why would they need him for any of this?”

Yus thought for a moment, then finally shook her head. “I have no idea,” she said. “I couldn’t begin to guess.”

Luke studied her, searching her Force aura for the bitter taste of a lie. All he found was the same cloying despair that he had been sensing all along.

“But you’re sure that’s where they took Han?” Leia asked, pointing at the holograph. “To Base Prime?”

“It’s where I assume they took Captain Solo,” Yus corrected. “But it only makes sense. Base Prime is the ideal place to hide from the Jedi—from anyone. Only a handful of beings know how to reach it—and I’m not one of them.”

Luke knelt closer to the holograph, his heart starting to pound in excitement as he studied its dark surface. He and the others had already discussed the possibility that Ohali Soroc had actually found the Mortis Monolith—as unbelievable as that seemed—and Yus’s descriptions of its time-dilation properties only made that more likely. But he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Finding a legendary place like Mortis after only a year of searching seemed almost too easy, and there was still the question of why Ohali’s astromech had referred to it as a space station instead of a monolith.

He turned to Yus. “Who built that thing?” he asked, trying to make the question sound sincere. “Was it the Qrephs?”

Yus shook her head. “I doubt it,” she said. “I don’t think they understand it very well themselves—at least, they didn’t when I was there half a year ago. They were still trying to create a gate so they could go inside.”

“They were trying to go inside?” Luke asked, more worried than ever. Whatever the Qrephs had found—Mortis or not—it was clearly a place of great power, and the thought of them experimenting with it like some kind of corporate research project chilled him to the bone. “How close were they to succeeding?”

“Close, I think,” she said. “But Savara Raine was trying to talk them out of it. I once heard her tell Marvid that only a fool toys with power he can’t even perceive.”

At the mention of Savara’s name, Luke glanced over to check on his son. He had already broken the news about Vestara’s new role as the Qrephs’ assassin, and now Ben’s eyes had gone distant and cold.

After a moment, Ben finally said, “Vestara is playing them. That’s just what she does.” He paused, then added, “But right now her goals aren’t as important to us as whether she’s there alone.”

“Alone?” Yus looked confused. “Of course she is not alone. There are the Mandalorians—”

“We’re not talking about Mandalorians,” Tahiri interrupted. “Did there seem to be other people like Savara Raine around? Someone who could use the Force?”

Yus thought about it, then shook her head. “I’m not sure exactly what you are asking,” she said. “But the answer is no. There is no one like Savara Raine.”