TWELVE

Leia and Saba stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the top of the boarding ramp, listening to a muffled string of beeps and chirps as the boarding party’s slicer droid tried to outsmart the Falcon’s espionage-grade security system. The external monitors showed that the ship was surrounded by a full company of soldiers in full blast armor. Something did not feel quite right in the Force, as though the troops were nervous or hesitant about their orders, and Leia wondered if the commander could really believe that Jedi would attack Galactic Alliance troops.

“They feel frightened.” There was a note of disdain in Saba’s voice, for Barabels tended to regard fear as something felt only by quarry. “You are sure we should not draw our lightsaberz? Frightened prey is unpredictable.”

Leia shook her head. “You’re the Master, but I really think we need to defuse things. Somebody’s going to get hurt if we keep pushing.”

Saba glared down at Leia out of one eye. “We are not the onez pushing thingz, Jedi Solo.”

Finally, the slicer droid stopped beeping and chirping. The monitor showed him releasing his interface clips from the wires dangling from the Falcon’s exterior security pad; then he turned to an officer and gave a dejected whistle.

“What do you mean you can’t open it?” The security system speaker made the officer’s voice sound a little tinny. “That’s what you were designed for—to open ship hatches.”

The droid beeped a short reply, which Leia knew would include an explanation of how the access code kept changing. The security system’s first line of defense was an automatic reset anytime two incorrect codes were entered into the keypad. Its second line of defense was to never grant access from the outside when the keypad cover was removed.

“Well, try again,” the officer ordered. “I’m not going to use a flash torch on the Millennium Falcon!”

The droid gave a weary whistle, then started to sort through the security wires again.

Leia turned to Saba. “I think we’ve made our point.”

Saba nodded. “If you are sure about the lightsaberz.”

“I am,” Leia said. “They may be scared, but they wouldn’t dare blast us.”

Leia instructed Cakhmaim and Meewalh to stay out of sight, then released the safety-hold and palmed the toggle button on the wall. The seal broke with a hiss, and the ramp began to descend.

A surprised murmur arose out in the hangar. The captain barked an order, and when there was enough space to see, Leia and Saba found themselves surrounded by a semicircle of blaster barrels.

Once the ramp clanged into position against the durasteel floor, the officer stepped to the foot and looked up at them. He was young—no doubt straight from the academy—and so nervous he could barely bring himself to meet the gazes of Leia and Saba.

“You will p-place your hands on your heads.” Despite his cracking voice, he was clearly being deliberately rude, ordering them about as though they were common pirates and neglecting to address them by any sort of title. “Descend the ramp slowly.”

Leia heard Saba’s scales rustle, then suddenly the Barabel’s hand rose. “We are Jedi Knightz.” The barrels of the blaster rifles began to swing away. “Point those somewhere else!”

Deciding it was better to follow her Master’s lead than stand there looking confused, Leia raised her hand and used the Force to turn aside a trio of blaster rifles.

The officer paled and stepped away from the ramp. Behind him knelt two soldiers armed with bell-barreled Czerka HeadBangers—ultrapowerful riot guns designed to stun any target into submission.

“Oh, kr—”

That was as far as Leia made it before a blinding spark of silver lit the barrels of both weapons. Something like the head of a charging bantha hit her in the chest, then she felt herself go limp and start to fall, and the floor disappeared beneath her, sending her tumbling down into darkness.

         

The fall must have been a long one, judging by how Leia felt when she woke. The world was spinning. Her stomach was churning and her temples were pounding, and her body felt as if she’d run headlong into a dewback stampede. Her ears hurt . . . she could not even describe how her ears hurt, and some inconsiderate rodder was hammering words against her head.

“Princess Leia?”

The voice was familiar, but it was hard to place with all that lightning cracking through her head.

“Princess Leia?”

Hoping the Voice would give up and go away, she kept her eyes closed tight.

Instead, something popped in front of her face, and a smell like burning hyperdrive coolant blistered her nostrils. She reacted with a blind Force shove and heard a body thud off the far wall. The Voice groaned and thumped to the floor.

Then a second voice gasped, “Commodore Darklighter?”

“Don’t!” Darklighter gasped. “I’m okay . . . I think.”

“Gavin?”

Leia opened her eyes to the stabbing light of a silver sun, then let out an involuntary groan of her own. She tried to push herself up and discovered her hands were cuffed behind her.

“Just how angry are you trying to make me?”

“Please settle down, Princess,” Darklighter said. “Wurf’al isn’t under my command, and he’s just looking for an excuse to activate those stun cuffs.”

“Avke Saz’ula is my mother’s uncle’s third wife’s cousin,” a gravelly voice said. “I owe you.”

Leia glanced toward the gravelly voice and, as her vision began to clear, saw the long-snouted silhouette of a young Bothan naval officer standing in the doorway of what was obviously a detention cell.

“Who’s Avke Saz’ula?” she asked.

The fur rose on the Bothan’s cheeks. “You Jedi are lower than skalworms!”

Leia looked to Darklighter, who was standing just inside the door. The first streaks of gray were beginning to show in his brown hair and goatee, but otherwise his rugged face looked much the same as it had through the thirty years Leia had known him.

“Do I care who Saz’ula is?”

“Jedi rabble!” Wurf’al raised his arm, pointing a stun-cuff remote at Leia.

Darklighter’s hand immediately pushed the arm down. “How would Admiral Bwua’tu feel about using unnecessary force on a cooperative prisoner?”

“I doubt it would upset him—he is my mother’s uncle.” Nevertheless, Wurf’al pocketed the remote. “But he would be upset about the delay. He has been waiting long enough for these prisoners to awaken.”

Leia breathed a silent sigh of relief. The remote was for a pair of LSS 401 Stun Cuffs—not as sophisticated as the LSS 1000 Automatics she and Han carried aboard the Falcon, but just as powerful and painful.

Wurf’al stepped out of the doorway, then Darklighter extended a hand toward Leia. She ignored it and rose on her own, trading a little unsteadiness on her feet for the opportunity to put Darklighter on the defensive. Saba was waiting in the corridor outside, guarded by a squad of detention personnel and also restrained in stun cuffs.

She lifted her pebbly lips, showing her fangs in something more than a scowl. “ ‘We don’t need our lightsaberz,’ you said,” she quoted. “ ‘They wouldn’t dare blast us.’ ”

They had not exactly been blasted, but Leia wasn’t about to argue a fine point like that with a Barabel. Instead she shot a frown at Darklighter. “I didn’t think they would.”

Darklighter shrugged. “Wasn’t my decision. Admiral Bwua’tu didn’t even ask me to come over to the Ackbar until Saba was already starting to come around.”

“You have only yourselves to blame for how you feel,” Wurf’al said. “Admiral Bwua’tu anticipated that you would try to impress us with your Jedi sorcery and took appropriate measures.”

The Bothan turned and started toward the front of the detention block.

Leia fell in beside Darklighter and quietly asked, “So who is Avke Saz’ula?”

“Gunnery officer aboard the Avengeance,” he whispered.

“Wonderful.” Leia grimaced. The crew of Avengeance was currently occupying its own wing of Maxsec Eight, after the Jedi caught them attempting to locate the sentient world Zonama Sekot. During the war, the Bothans had declared an ar’krai—a death crusade—against the Yuuzhan Vong, and many of them remained determined to follow the invaders into the Unknown Regions and finish what they started. “A Bothan with a grudge.”

“I gave you a chance to turn around,” Darklighter whispered. “Don’t blame me.”

They reached the front of the detention block and were admitted into the central processing area, where the bust of another Bothan in an admiral’s tunic sat in a display niche across from the watch desk. It was made from a pale, iridescent material that resembled Saras spinglass.

“I see Admiral Bwua’tu likes to remind his prisoners who’s holding them,” Leia said.

“That is my doing,” Wurf’al said proudly.

“But he hasn’t made you take it down,” Saba observed.

“Of course not,” Wurf’al said. “Admiral Bwua’tu knows what an inspiration he is for the crew of the Admiral Ackbar. They feel privileged to serve under an admiral who has risen from the obscurity of a birth on Ruweln to become the finest fleet commander the Galactic Alliance has ever seen.”

“The finest?” Leia echoed, taking offense on behalf of her dead friend Admiral Ackbar. “Really? I wasn’t aware that Admiral Bwua’tu has actually seen fleet action as a commander.”

“He hasn’t,” Wurf’al said, apparently not noticing the irony in his answer. “But he defeats the Thrawn simulator every time.”

“I’m relieved to know the Fifth Fleet is in such capable hands,” Leia said, struggling to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “By the way, where did you come by the bust? The material is very distinctive.”

“It was a gift, from a shipping line grateful for our protection along the Hydian Way,” Wurf’al said. “Now, if you don’t mind, my mother’s uncle the admiral is waiting for us.”

Wurf’al nodded to the watch sergeant, who keyed a code into his console. A security cam dropped down from the ceiling and scanned the face of each person in the group—Wurf’al and guards included. After it had finished, a green light came on above the outer doors, and they slid aside.

Wurf’al led the group out into the corridor and down to a lift station, where they were confronted by another bust of Admiral Bwua’tu—this one sitting on a small plasteel pedestal. Leia and Saba exchanged glances, and even Gavin quietly rolled his eyes. They ascended the lift with Leia and Saba encircled by guards, then Wurf’al led them through a maze of corridors on the operations deck. As they walked, Leia began to feel a faint tickle between her shoulder blades, the same uneasy feeling she had experienced in the capture bay just before she and Saba were stunned into unconsciousness. She reached out and could tell that the Barabel felt it, too, but even Saba did not seem able to identify its source.

Finally, they came to another lift, this one guarded by a pair of human sentries wearing the uniform of bridge security.

Wurf’al stopped and reached for his comlink, but one of the sentries waved him off. “Go on up. He’s waiting for you.”

The fur on Wurf’al’s cheeks flattened noticeably. “He’s waiting?”

“Five minutes now.” The second sentry reached behind him and hit a slap-pad, and the lift doors opened to reveal a squad from bridge security already waiting inside. “Better hurry. He sounded like he was in a mood.”

Wurf’al waved Saba and Leia into the lift. “Go on. He’s waiting!”

Leaving the detention guards behind, they joined the security squad in the lift and ascended into the bridge. The squad escorted them into a small briefing room containing a large conference table, a service kitchen with its own droid, and, in one corner, another bust of the great admiral. The large chair at the far end of the table was turned away from the entrance, toward a full-wall viewing panel currently displaying a thin crescent of jewel-colored sun along each edge, with the crimson web of the Utegetu Nebula stretched between.

The security squad guided Leia and Saba to the near end of the table, then took up positions behind them. Wurf’al and Darklighter stood behind chairs on the opposite sides.

A gritty Bothan voice spoke from behind the chair. “Please forgive the stun cuffs, but with you Jedi, we must do what we can to make an escape attempt inconvenient.”

The chair spun around, revealing a dignified-looking Bothan with a weather-creased snout and graying chin fur. He was dressed in an immaculate white uniform draped in medals and gold braid, and he held his shoulders square without appearing rigid or tense. He acknowledged Leia with a glance and a nod, then addressed himself to Saba.

“We can remove them, if you’ll give me your word as Jedi that you won’t attempt to escape. I’m sure Chief Omas will instruct me to release you shortly.”

“You are very trusting,” Saba rasped, “for a Bothan.”

Bwua’tu flashed a canine-baring smile. “Not really. It would be far easier for us to rely on your honor than to attempt holding two Jedi against their wills.” He glanced at Darklighter. “And Commodore Darklighter assures me that if you and Princess Leia give your words, you will honor them.”

“That is so,” Saba said. “But we will not give you our wordz.”

Bwua’tu nodded. “I didn’t think so.” He looked to Wurf’al. “It seems you’ll have to hole the Millennium Falcon’s drive nacelles.”

“What?” Leia cried.

“We’ll keep you locked in your cells in stun cuffs, of course.” Bwua’tu’s gaze shifted to Leia. “But we know better than to believe that will hold two Jedi. This is our best chance of preventing you from escaping.”

“You can’t do that!” Leia said.

“I’m quite certain we can,” Bwua’tu replied. “I’m sure those Noghri we haven’t been able to find will put up quite a fight, but I have no doubt we’ll prevail in the end. If all else fails, we’ll just use the capture bay battery on it.”

“You would enjoy that, this one thinkz,” Saba said. “Some revenge for your third wife’z cousin.”

“Nonsense,” Bwua’tu replied. “My clan relations have no more to do with this matter than the revulsion I feel for the Jedi’s weakness in sparing the Yuuzhan Vong their just due. This is purely in the line of my duty as commander of the Fifth Fleet.”

“I wonder if Gilad Pellaeon will see it that way?” Leia asked. With Sien Sovv dead, Pellaeon had agreed to come out of retirement until Chief Omas and the Senate appointed a new, permanent Supreme Commander. “You know how sticky Sullustans are about regulations.”

“I do.” Bwua’tu gestured at Darklighter. “That’s why I had Commodore Darklighter consult with me on this. Holing the Falcon’s nacelles was his idea.”

Leia’s jaw dropped. “Gavin!”

“Sorry, Princess,” he said. “But you have been trying to run a Galactic Alliance blockade.”

Bwua’tu looked back to Wurf’al. “Why are you still here? You have your orders.”

Wurf’al’s fur flattened. “Sorry, sir.” He passed the stun-cuff remotes to the leader of the security squad and turned toward the door. “On my way.”

“All right,” Leia said. “We give our words.”

“You give your word,” Bwua’tu said, looking to Saba. “What about Master Sebatyne?”

Wurf’al reached the door and left without waiting to be called back. Saba remained silent.

“Good,” Bwua’tu said. “There is no regulation against enjoying my duty.”

During her two decades of political service to the Rebellion and the New Republic, Leia had dealt with enough Bothans to know when one was bluffing. There was no telltale ruffling of the fur, no synthetic snarl. Bwua’tu was patiently waiting for Saba to make up her mind—and the gleam in his eye suggested that he hoped that she would remain silent.

“Saba, I don’t think he’s bluffing,” Leia said.

“He is not,” the Barabel said. “We will have to take one of the Ackbar’z message skiffz instead of the Falcon.”

“I’ve no doubt you can,” Bwua’tu replied. “But thank you for the warning.”

Leia began, “Master Sebatyne—”

“If we give our word, we place Han and Master Skywalker at Chief Omas’z mercy,” Saba interrupted. “That we cannot do.”

“Master Sebatyne, I understand your concern.”

As Leia spoke, she was reaching out to Saba in the Force, trying to make her see that Bwua’tu was not half as clever as he believed himself to be. He had asked for a very specific promise—that Leia and Saba not attempt to escape—so they could still make the rescue plan work, if they could find a way to get the supplies aboard the Falcon to Mara and the rest of the StealthX pilots without escaping.

“But you know how Cakhmaim and Meewalh are,” Leia continued. “If something happens to the Falcon, they’ll try to take out this whole Star Destroyer.”

“There is no try.” Saba flicked her tongue. “They will.”

Bwua’tu drummed his clawed fingers on the table and looked at the door.

“We can’t let that happen,” Leia pressed. “You must give Admiral Bwua’tu your word.”

Saba let out a long, harsh croak that actually made Bwua’tu recoil. “Very well. This one promisez.”

Bwua’tu’s bushy brows fell. “Finally, you surprise me.” He looked to the leader of the security squad. “Release the stun cuffs.”

The leader punched a code into the remote, and the stun cuffs opened on both Leia and Saba.

“Please, sit.” Bwua’tu gestured to the chairs at their end of the table. “Would you like something from the service kitchen?”

“No, thank you.” Leia’s throat was raw with thirst, but Saba had drilled into her time and again that it was as important to maintain the Jedi mystique as it was to master the Force. “I’m fine for now.”

“This one will have a membrosia.” Saba used the Force to pull out a chair, then perched on the edge, wrapping her tail onto her lap. “Gold, of course.”

Bwua’tu eyes narrowed. “This is a military vessel,” he said stiffly. “Spirits of any sort are not allowed aboard.”

“None?” Saba let out a disappointed snort. “Then this one hopez it will not be too long before you hear from Chief Omaz.”

“As do I.” Bwua’tu asked the droid to bring him a tall glass of iced fizzwater, then said, “There is one other matter we must attend to before I have you escorted to your new cabins.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Leia asked.

Bwua’tu frowned. “That’s highly unlikely.”

“I think she’s worried about the Falcon, sir,” Darklighter said.

“Is she?”

The admiral depressed a hidden button on the tabletop, and the door opened to reveal Wurf’al standing at attention on the other side. The younger Bothan smiled at Leia and stepped back into the cabin.

“You keep your promises,” Bwua’tu said, “and I’ll keep mine.”

So much for the Jedi mystique, Leia thought.

“Good.” Saba rose. “Then we are done here. This one is ready to go to her cabin.”

“In a moment,” Bwua’tu said. “First, I want you to call your fellow Jedi in. We’ve been trying to reach them for three days—”

“Three days?” Leia gasped.

“You’ve been unconscious for four,” Darklighter said.

“I’m afraid I overestimated your Jedi resiliency,” Bwua’tu added. “I ordered the boarding party to set their HeadBangers to maximum. So you can see why we’re growing concerned about your escort. They must be running out of air, water, and food by now.”

“Maybe even power,” Darklighter said. “I’ve heard that StealthXs draw down faster than the standard XJ series.”

Leia glanced over to see how Saba wanted to play this—the Barabel was her Master—and received absolutely no hint, either in her expression or through the Force. Leia’s choice.

Leia turned to Bwua’tu. “We were trying to run the blockade, you know.” As she said this, Leia reached out to Mara in the Force and felt her somewhere nearby, deep in a Force-hibernation. “Has it occurred to you that our escort is already gone?”

“Frankly, no,” Darklighter said. “I doubt they went to Woteba with no way to refuel before combat. No pilot would.”

“By the way, we have removed your cargo to a safe location,” Bwua’tu added. “I wouldn’t want you to get any ideas about shooting a few fuel cells out to your friends without actually trying to escape.”

Leia’s heart sank, but she was careful to maintain a neutral face. Bwua’tu did not know as much about Jedi as he believed. Mara and the others could stay in their StealthXs for another week by remaining in their Force-hibernation.

The question was whether Luke and Han could last that long.

“Okay, they’re still out there,” Leia admitted. “But I won’t call them in.”

Bwua’tu’s brow rose in surprise. “Why not?”

“You must!” Darklighter said. “They’re going to start going under pretty soon, and we can’t find those StealthXs. We won’t be able to save them.”

“They are safer out there than they would be in here,” Saba said. “We will not call them into danger.”

Bwua’tu’s nostrils began to flare. “Whatever my feelings about Jedi meddling in the ar’krai, I assure you they will be in no danger aboard the Ackbar!”

“Not from you,” Leia said. She had vague sense of where Saba was trying to go with this, but could not tell whether the Barabel had sensed some new menace or was simply trying to play Bwua’tu. “Something is wrong on this ship. Master Sebatyne and I have been sensing it since we came aboard.”

Bwua’tu pushed back in his chair. “Please—you’re talking to a Bothan! I see what you’re trying to do.”

“We are trying to protect you,” Saba growled.

“From what?” Bwua’tu demanded.

Saba and Leia looked at each other, then Leia admitted, “The Force is not yet clear on the matter.”

“Then please let me know when the Force does become clear on the matter.” Bwua’tu’s tone suggested that he did not think that would ever happen. “Until then, do not attempt frightening my crew again. I assure you, it will do nothing to speed your release.”

Darklighter said, “Admiral, that isn’t what’s happening here. If Princess Leia says she feels something wrong, then it bears investigating.”

Bwua’tu turned to glare at Darklighter. “Is that your opinion, Commodore, or is there some General Defense Force Directive that I’m unaware of?”

Darklighter drew himself up straight. “Sir, that is my opinion.”

Bwua’tu fell silent, and Leia thought for a moment they had convinced him of the danger.

Then the admiral stood. “Do you know what I think, Commodore Darklighter? I think you have allowed your friendship with Princess Leia to affect your judgment.” His gaze shifted to Leia and Saba. “And now you are dangerously close to supporting her in fomenting unrest among my crew.”

Darklighter’s face paled. “Sir, that’s not my intention—”

“You are a dangerously naÏve officer to be flying one of my Star Destroyers, Commodore Darklighter,” Bwua’tu said. “I suggest you return to it while it is still yours to command.”

“Sir.”

Darklighter drew himself to attention and saluted, then cast one last glance in Leia’s direction before he turned and left the room.

Bwua’tu turned to Wurf’al. “I fear Commodore Darklighter may have misjudged the value of a Jedi’s promise. Place them back in their stun cuffs and return them to the detention center.”

“This isn’t a ploy, Admiral,” Leia said. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Perhaps, but it is mine to make.” Bwua’tu returned to his chair and spun around to stare at the sapphire web of the Utegetu Nebula. “Tell your guard when you wish to call your friends in, Princess. Chief Omas will not be happy if they suffocate in the Murgo Choke.”