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More by following Horn than any spectacular sense of direction, Ben made his way to the Falcon's tiny cockpit and crammed inside. Solo was already in the pilot's seat and, apparently without consulting anyone, Horn's girlfriend seemed to decide she was copilot. She slid into the seat and ran her hands over the controls as if she had been born there. "Imp warship up ahead. I hope you have those codes, Solo."
Horn opened his mouth to protest, but she turned and gave him a look that seemed to silence him. Ben was not inclined to get involved - not when he was sandwiched between Jessa and what smelled like an eight-foot, hairy Jawa.
"I'm transmitting the codes now," Solo said. "We'll be free and clear in a minute."
"That's why it's moving toward us," Horn's girlfriend said flatly.
Horn took a step forward - no easy feat given the lack of room. "What do you mean, it's moving toward us."
"And powering up its weapons." Horn's girlfriend glanced at Solo. "Now what?" she asked pointedly.
"Now you hang on." Solo moved his hand over the controls and the stars outside the viewport began to roll in circles. Something jostled the ship. Ben realized with a sickening lurch that they had a Star Destroyer shooting at them.
"Frag!" Horn's girlfriend jabbed her finger at two rapidly growing points of light. "Two more of them!"
"We must be hotter than I thought," Jessa muttered, her face tight with tension. "How long before we can make the jump to lightspeed?"
"It'll take a few moments to get the coordinates from the navicomputer," Horn answered. He had rested his hands on the back of his girlfriend's chair and was starting to wear holes in the flimsy plastic covering.
Ben gaped at him. "Are you kidding?!" he demanded incredulously. "At the rate they're gaining?!"
"Flying through hyperspace isn't dusting crops, farmboy!" Horn's girlfriend glared at Solo. "Get those coordinates! I'll hold them!"
Horn gaped at her. "Melody!"
"Shut your word port, Hal! Solo, give me control!"
Ben expected Solo to argue the point, but he just nodded. Hal's girlfriend - Melody - flicked a few switches and twisted a control. The Falcon picked up speed and flew straight at the nearest Star Destroyer, twisting and dodging as deadly bolts of energy seared his vision. "Are we going to ram it?" he asked quietly.
Jessa shook her head, but she did not look all that sure.
Just when it seemed that there was no time to pull out, the front half of the ship pointed straight back at the planet and dove away, looping up and around so that it grazed the atmosphere before shooting back toward the second Star Destroyer. Again Melody brought them so close that Ben could actually see men running for cover through the bridge viewports - and again she spun away, twisting impossibly fast and yet somehow maintaining control.
I'll never be able to fly like that, he thought weakly. Not if I practiced for hundred years. He tried to tear his eyes from the viewport and failed miserably. And she's about my age. I can't believe it.
A flashing light pulled him back to the present. "What's that mean?"
"It means we're losing the front deflector," Solo said grimly. "Hold tight. I'm making the jump to lightspeed."
He pulled a lever. Stars streaked and the Falcon plunged into hyperspace, leaving behind three Star Destroyers and the only home Ben had ever known.
***
There were times when being the King's personal bodyguard meant more than being the King.
From her vantage point just behind Isoldur's right shoulder, Teneniel Djo kept her hands behind her back on her eyes on Emperor Palpatine. The withered old man had more years on him than a rancor had blood ticks, but she knew full well that he was more dangerous than any of the red-robed guards all around the meeting room - more dangerous, indeed, than even the most deranged Nightsister on Dathomir.
She also knew that her presence worried him. She was a Force-user trained in the ways of neither Jedi nor Sith. And that meant that her techniques and her training were foreign to him. The Empire had once had garrisons on Dathomir, but the Nightsisters had destroyed them twenty-five years ago.
Just as Teneniel and her Singing Mountain Clan had done to the Nightsisters themselves mere months later.
"I do not see what this debate is about, your highness." Lady Roganda Ismaren Rage leaned forward as she spoke, giving Teneniel cause to wonder why she was not falling out of her dress. "My daughter is headstrong, certainly, but she is neither strong in the Force nor possessing a fraction of her brother's intelligence. If she wishes to hide like an infant, let her stay hidden."
Behind the lady's chair, Commander Irek Ismaren stirred slightly. He was Princess Denilee's half-brother - Roganda's son, not Rage's - and it was common knowledge that the two of them were close. She could sense him faintly through the Force, his presence as indistinct as the Emperor's was strong and malevolent. He would grieve if the Emperor killed the little Princess.
Which was more than could be said for the Princess's mother. That woman was like stone, neither loving nor treasuring her children, accepting them only when it furthered her own purposes. Teneniel found her despicable.
"The Lady Ismaren Rage and I are in concord on this," Isoldur said after a moment's uneasy silence. "Your majesty, if I am to understand correctly, Princess Denilee is only six standard years old. Her outburst may have damaged her own political reputation, but there is not a being in the galaxy who would not forgive a sister's protectiveness toward her brother. Queen Elian and I would feel blessed if my children were able to display this affection so openly."
"She is not one of your children," the Emperor hissed. In the meeting room's faint illumination, his eyes glowed in their sunken, shadowed sockets. "She is mine. Unless you wish to compromise your daughter's future, be careful where you place your sympathies.&"8221;
"Do not threaten my daughter," Isoldur said tightly. Teneniel shifted slightly, just enough to draw her hidden knives if she needed to.
"Are you giving me orders, King Isoldur?" The Emperor's voice was deadly soft.
"No. I am warning you." Isoldur rested his hands on the greel wood table as he stood, towering over his seated companions. "We are all answerable to a higher power. We are none of us so omniscient that we may take lives without due cause. Especially those of children."
"You overstep your bounds."
"And you believe that none were ever set for you." He sketched a perfunctory bow. "Good day, your majesty."
Teneniel could almost feel the animosity following them as they left the room.
***
Hal kicked his way through the debris that made up Solo's small room on the Falcon. Technically he was not supposed to be here under any circumstances, but Solo and Melody were busy adjusting course and Darklighter and Calrissian had just managed to track down the food processor. Darklighter's beat-up droid and Melody's new Wookie friend were playing with one of the holographic games. Even Goldenrod - that annoying translator droid of Ghent's - had managed to make himself the game's none-too-efficient referee.
Which left Hal feeling a bit out of place.
It was not that he minded Melody being able to fly. It was not that she was obviously better than him - or, for that matter, just about any other being this side of the galactic rim. He just felt like he did not belong right now. And that was why he was digging through Solo's things. He was sure his captain had swiped the holoproj a few months ago and he felt like watching one of the better holofilms in the Falcon's library. 'Better' being a relative term, of course. At least it alleviated the boredom.
What a slob. He pushed aside something that strongly reminded him of Docking Bay Ninety-Four. Okay, Horn. Time to use those CorSec brains of yours. If you were Solo and you had a holoproj, where would you put it?
His eyes fell on what had probably once been a pillow.
After a bit of fishing, he produced the holoproj. Solo had left a disc in it, of course. Figured. Hal muttered a few unkind things under his breath and tried to yank the thing out, to no avail. Wonderful. Fragging wonderful. He turned it upside-down and tried to get a look at the label, but there was nothing.
Only one way to find out what was jammed in there. He hit the power button.
"Hello, Han."
Hal's jaw dropped.
The woman speaking was young, maybe in her thirties. She was also very pretty and very dignified - not at all like anyone he would have expected Solo to be on a first-name basis with. He glanced at the date in the bottom corner. Whoever this was, she had recorded this holo fifteen years ago.
"I don't know when Winter will be able to deliver this to you. She and Tycho have to make a rendezvous first and I don't know how long that will take. But I know she'll get it to you. I trust her with my life."
Hal could hardly believe what he was seeing. A part of him wanted to shut the holoproj off then and there, before he could hear something not meant for his ears. But another part of him - a part that had to do with his ability to read people - told him to let it continue. And that was the part he knew he had to listen to.
"I hope you understand why I'm doing this," the woman said slowly, as if each word was painful to speak. "I have to try. Father would have wanted it and..." She lowered her head and pressed her lips together. When she spoke again, her voice was softer and sadder. "And I know he would have done the same for me."
Who? Hal sought any clue to the woman's identity. All he had was a connection to Han and two names, Winter and Tycho. He did not recognize either one. Who are you?
"Han, I want you to take care of Ani. Until Corran can train him - "
Hal slammed the pause button. His fingers shaking, he backed the holo up and replayed it.
"Until Corran can train him - "
"Until Corran can - "
"Until Corran - "
She knew my father. His eyes flew to the door and seemed to see beyond, all the way to Solo in the cockpit. They both did. My father was supposed to train someone.
He made himself continue.
"Until Corran can train him, he's vulnerable. Look after him and look after yourself. Promise me that."
Another woman leaned over and whispered something. She was about the same age, but her hair was red-gold and her face was harder.
The first woman turned back to the recorder. "I have to go. I love you so much. I'll make this right." She reached forward and the holo disappeared.
Hal dropped the holoproj back into its hiding place with shaking hands. Maker and Creation save me. He was not sure if his legs would support him. Ani. A CorSec cadet? Even as the thought flashed through his mind, he knew it was not true. She knew my father. Nothing about this made sense. His father knowing this woman, the names Tycho and Winter and Ani, even the red-haired woman...
The red-haired woman.
Hal fumbled back into the pillow and switched the holoproj back on, skipping straight to the end. With trembling fingers, he froze the holo as the second woman appeared.
Now he knew where he had seen Ben Darklighter's face before.
And he understood, in a way that went beyond knowing, that he was looking at the boy's mother.
***
"Here we are," Jessa said cheerfully. "Giju stew."
Ben eyed the platter she had just set down on the overturned crate serving as their table. The quote-unquote stew was steaming and piled high with what looked like vegetables, but that was about all that could be said for it. He was afraid that if he prodded it with a fork, it would jump up and attack him.
"It looks like old boots dunked in toxic runoff," he said bluntly. "And that's probably what it would smell like, too."
"It's not like you've eaten anything since I found you." Jessa dug in and shoveled an enormous pile into her mouth, chewing with obvious relish. Ben fought the urge to wince. "You're missing out on my father's favorite recipe," she added indistinctly.
"I thought you didn't like your father," he said, more as a way to avoid eating the stew than anything else.
She shrugged. "I didn't say he was all bad. I mean, he's a profit-hungry frag-loving son of a Hutt, but he knows how to cook."
"Oh." That sounded reasonable, especially considering the fact that his own life made no sense at the moment. "What's your dad do?"
"Everything. He owns a couple of mining cities on Nkklon, about half of BlasTech and MerrSonn's research and development branches, and a whole bunch of banking interests from Sacorria to Imperial Center." She grinned humorlessly. "He used to be a Rebel, you know. I think everyone from his generation was at some point. He just gave up." Her fork stabbed at the stew.
"I'm not a Rebel," Ben pointed out as he tried to edge the - for lack of a better word - food away from him. "You don't hate me."
She propped her arms on the crate and gave him a bemused look. "Your droid's got part of a Jedi prophecy in him, you're tagging along with me, you're carrying a lightsaber in your pocket, and I'm betting you hate the Empire as much as anyone can right now. No offense, space waste, but you're not exactly Carida Academy material."
"Maybe I'm just Tatooine mechanic material," he muttered.
"You really think that you're not involved anymore?" Jessa demanded. "Do you really believe that deep down?"
"Faugh! What's that smell?"
Saved from answering Jessa, Ben turned to Melody and pointed to the giju stew. "That."
"Is that supposed to be food?" The young woman settled herself at another corner of the crate. "It looks like boot plastic mixed with runoff. Smells like it, too."
Ben covered his mouth to keep from chortling.
Jessa looked from Ben to Melody and back again. "Fine," she said flatly. "I know when I'm outnumbered." Glaring at them, she scooped up the much-abused stew and made her way back to the prep unit. "Uncultured barbarians," she called over her shoulder as a parting barb.
Melody grinned. "Who stuck the pylon up her rear?"
"It's her father's recipe," Ben answered, automatically rising to Jessa's defense. He could mock the stew all he wanted, but Melody doing it was something entirely different.
"Excuse me for breathing." She leaned an elbow on the crate and gave him a long look. "You don't look like a Rebel."
Here he went again. "I'm not. I'm a mechanic." Ben blew out a long sigh. "Look, it's a long story. My droid has something the Rebellion needs."
"What the Rebellion needs is a miracle - and some people haven't gotten it through their thick skulls that that's not gonna happen." She threw a glance at Jessa, who was serving herself more stew from the prep unit. "Glad you've got your head welded on right."
He frowned at her. "You're not part of the Alliance?"
"Me?" Melody laughed aloud. "The day you find me joining that lost cause is the day Dark Princess Savan turns Black Sun into a charity." She watched him as if weighing him on some mental scale. "So," she said after a moment. "What's your name?"
"Ben Darklighter."
"As in Biggs?"
He nodded. "My great-uncle."
"Huh." One dainty hand grabbed his and shook it hard enough to bruise. "Melody re Riall. Nice to meet you, kid."
"I'm your age," Ben pointed out dryly.
Melody grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "If I could get away with calling Solo 'kid', I would. Nothing personal." She stood up gracefully. Although she did not move like Jessa - not like a warrior - there was something about her that made Ben think she was almost as dangerous in a fight. And she did not look like she had any qualms about using the blasters she wore strapped to either hip.
"Get some sleep, kid." With a last smile, Melody made her way back to the main room, leaving Ben to shake his head in bewilderment.
***
"We are approaching Bakura, my lady." Captain Ardiff's precise, clipped words were just as much a product of the Imperial military machine as his stiff stance and perfect protocol. He inclined his head just so and stood with just the proper amount of attention.
Alai missed Admiral Archimedes already.
If wishes were starships... She pushed the thought aside. "You have informed Lord Rage, I presume."
"Yes, my lady." He hesitated for a moment. "And I have had Governor Thanas brought to the bridge."
"Good work. Carry on." She waited until the captain was striding back toward his command chair before shaking her head in dismay. It was not that Ardiff was an idiot or a bad man - he had been head of his class and was by all accounts a loving husband and father - but he was not up to Archimedes' standards. How could he be? The young Corellian had been called the Thrawn of her generation.
If only the admiral had been more careful. Alai could have made her own feelings about the Emperor known in time. Things would have been much different.
She did not turn when the Sith approached her. "We are in position, my lord." A glance at the comm officer's controls brought another important detail to her attention. "And I believe the vice governor is contacting us."
Rage watched her for a moment. "Have the captain put her through, then."
"Of course." Alai nodded sharply to Ardiff. "Put the vice governor through."
"Immediately, my lady." Ardiff barked a command. The central holoprojector came to life, displaying a regal woman in her sixties. Her simple garments were standard Bakuran formal wear; few of Imperial Center's opulent trends reached this far into the Outer Rim.
Nor, for that matter, did dependence on the Emperor. Bakura had been on the tip of every tongue twenty-six years ago when, for reasons unknown, a species known as the Ssi-Ruuk had attempted to attack the small planet and enslave its inhabitants. The system would have fallen if not for the timely intervention of the Rebellion's fragmented forces, which had received the distress call before the Empire. Bakura's tiny garrison received word midway through the conflict that the Rebellion had managed to destroy the second Death Star at Endor - if not any of the important officials stationed on it - but Pter Thanas and his men had chosen to continue fighting alongside Leia Organa and her forces. The end results had been a defeated Ssi-Ruuvi fleet, the defection of Thanas and most of his forces to the Rebellion, the short-lived yet deadly Bakuran Revolt, and an entire generation of Bakuran youth firmly believing that the Empire was a cancer growing in the galaxy's core.
In simpler words, Bakura was perhaps the last planet in the galaxy where the Rebellion was not only supported, but openly cheered. And from this restless backwater had come one of the most brilliant political minds since the fall of the Republic: Governor Malinza Thanas.
Vice Governor Akim Hannibar had been born when the Republic was decaying and dying, but she held no less venom for the Empire than her younger superior. "I presume there is a reason for this unannounced visit," she said sharply. "Or are you simply here to insure we have not organized a navy behind your backs?"
Alai glanced at Rage, who nodded slightly. She was to handle this, then. Wonderful. "Vice Governor, I'm sure news is slow to arrive here. Perhaps you are unaware that your leader is no longer welcome in the ranks of the Inner Senate."
Akim Hannibar's eyes narrowed. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. News may reach us slowly, but it's not filled with the drivel you spoon-feed your pet planets in the Core." She drew herself up proudly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe you were just leaving."
Not ones for tact, the Bakurans. Alai smiled tightly as she saw Thanas being escorted in. "I don't think you want to terminate this connection just yet, Vice Governor. There's someone here who wants to speak to you."
Thanas spotted the holo immediately. "Akim!"
"Malinza?" One of Hannibar's hands drifted to her side, as if reaching for a weapon she was not carrying. "I thought you were on Imperial Center."
Thanas shook her head. "Obviously not." She twisted in her guards' grips. "Listen to me," she barked. "Don't do anything they ask! Do you hear me? The Rebellion depends on - "
Alai sighed and clubbed her roughly across the head, producing an outraged curse from Hannibar. Ignoring the half-conscious governor, she turned to the holo and shrugged helplessly. "Sometimes she doesn't know when to hold her tongue."
"You're holding an Imperial governor prisoner," Hannibar said tightly.
"I might do more than that. Your world has defenses, but they are not up to the Executor." She smiled again, knowing it would be terrifying. "And last I checked, there's no Rebellion to help you now."
Hannibar's furious glower did not abate, but she forced some measure of moderation into her tone. "What do you want?"
"Your help." She glanced at Thanas, who was only now beginning to struggle to her feet. "Somewhere out there is information the Rebellion wants. Your governor stole it from the Emperor and we believe that someday it will come here, to her homeworld. Simply inform us when it arrives and all will be well."
"And what of Malinza?"
"She will be executed publicly - after a notice excuses both you and Bakura for her crimes."
Hannibar simply watched her for a long moment. Then she shook her head once, a stiff motion from side to side. "No."
Alai raised an eyebrow. She would not mourn the destruction of this Rebel-loving planet, but neither was it a prospect she looked forward to with relish. "No?" she echoed.
"You heard me the first time. If the information is that vital to the Rebellion, then it is more important than Bakura."
Alai had seen that look before. It was that of someone who believed they had to sacrifice a million beings to save a galaxy. "Consider your people," she said softly.
"I have." Hannibar reached to one side and terminated the connection.
"They are powering planetary shields," Ardiff announced, disbelief coloring his voice.
"No!" Thanas had struggled to her feet, throwing herself against her guards. "Don't do this!"
Alai turned to her calmly. "Where is the information you stole?"
"On its way to the Rebel base," Thanas bit out.
Rage shifted slightly, his face unreadable. Alai wondered for a moment why he was not handling this personally. She could not make out his sense or what it might mean.
No matter. She had a job to do, however distasteful. And seeing the traitorous woman near tears was an unexpected - and enjoyable - bonus. "Do you want us to select another target? A military target?" When Thanas nodded stiffly, she smiled. "Name the system."
There was no answer.
Alai sighed. "I grow tired of asking this, so it will be the last time. Where is the Rebel base?"
Thanas looked past her, her eyes locked on the viewports. Her jaw worked as she struggled to find an answer. Then she heaved a shaking sigh and lowered her gaze to the deck. "Mandalore," she said softly. "They're in the ruins on Mandalore."
"There," Alai said pleasantly. She turned back to Ardiff. "Captain, power all forward weapons and target the capitol."
The disbelief and horror washing off of Thanas was like a physical wave. "No! I did as you asked!"
Alai shrugged. "You're far too trusting. And Bakura has been a thorn in the Emperor's side for a long time." She took a few steps toward Thanas, just enough to bring herself within an arm's length of the shaking governor. "Don't worry," she added as an afterthought. "We'll deal with your Rebel friends soon enough."
To her credit, Thanas did not break down then and there. Her lips curled into a bestial snarl and she struggled against the guards, her clawed hands held as if she wished to rip Alai's throat out.
Rage's hiss of a voice was loud even over the background hum of the bridge. "Sterilize the capitol, Captain Ardiff."
Ardiff managed a jerky nod and barked orders to his weapons officers'. Light flashed through the viewports as the turbolasers rained death down on the planet. The outdated shield sparked and struggled, but it was no match against the Executor's firepower.
Alai saw Rage turn away and stride back to the transport tubes. She clenched her hands behind her back. Emperor's Hand or no, she would not be so cold. She had not wished for the capitol to be sterilized. She would not have ordered that much death.
Cursing the callousness of the Sith and the stubborn intractability of the Bakurans, she stared out the viewports and watched Bakura burn.
***
Denilee did not know where she was. An apartment somewhere far below the towering spires of the Emperor's palace, she supposed. She could not see much from the single window - not with all those tall buildings blocking out the sun. It was not dark here with all the artifical light, but that was not the same. She felt like she was in a room with no illumination and no way out.
Nanny would be back soon. Things always looked brighter when Nanny was around.
"Enjoying the view, your Highness?"
The only other occupant of the room was a young man about eight years older than her. He was a Hapan guard and Nanny had made it clear that she trusted him implicitly. Denilee wondered if that meant he was a Rebel.
She shrugged fractionally. "I don't like it. I miss my rooms."
"I'm sure you'll be able to return soon, your highness."
"No, I won't." She did not know what made her say that, but she did. "Nothing's going to be the way it was before."
She could feel him smiling. "I'm sure you'll figure something out, your highness. You are royalty, your highness."
"No, I'm not." Her voice sounded strangely bitter in her own ears. And for the first time in her life, she realized something strange. I don't want to be royalty. I never did. I want to be normal."
"Your highness, with all due respect - "
Eyes flashing, she rounded on him and set her jaw. "Don't call me that!"
"What, your highness?"
"Don't call me 'your highness!'"
He frowned. "Why not, your highness?"
"Because I'm not a princess anymore." She took a step forward, just enough to bring herself nose to chest with him. How to make him understand what she had just begun to see herself? She was more than the sum of her parents' titles and her bloodline.
The words finally came to her. "I'm a person and my name is Denilee!"
That smile reappeared. "As you say, your - " She raised an eyebrow like she had seen her mother do and he amended his words. "As you say, Denilee. I am Bellar."
"That's better." She turned back to the window, but kept her eye on him. "You're a guard, Bellar? I thought all of the Hapan guards were women?"
"True. But your Emperor doesn't like our warrior women. And I think he fears one of them."
"Oh." She could not imagine the Emperor being afraid of anyone. Only someday he's gonna be afraid of me. I'll make him pay for everything he did to my family.
Bellar brushed a dark curl back behind his blue headband. "If I may ask, your - Denilee, what will you be if you are not a princess?"
"I'll be a pilot," she said immediately. "And I'll be a warrior like my daddy. And me and Mikel and Daddy and Nanny will be a family and we'll fly to every star in the galaxy and fix everything the Emperor messed up."
There was a long silence. When Bellar spoke again, it was in a strangely muted voice. "Is your father a good man?"
She gave him a questioning look. "Why wouldn't he be?"
"Perhaps, from a certain point of view..." He stopped and shook his head. "No reason." His smile was strained. "Why don't I get you something to eat? You don't want to be hungry when your nanny comes back."
She shook her head. Part of her understood what Bellar was saying, but she did not want to listen to it. "I'm not hungry," she said softly.
"As you wish."
He left her alone by the window.
***
Fire along every nerve. Knives through his heart. Anakin gasped and struggled to breathe as a durasteel vise constricted his chest. And through it all the voices deafened him, men and women and children crying out in sudden anguish and despair.
"Master Corran? Solo?" Lucéa's distant voice reached his ears. He made himself focus on the here and now - on the cracked paving bricks and the charred walls of what had once been an outdoor market, on the yellow flags marking Imp mines, on the hollow-cheeked guards watching the sky for bombers. He forced his gaze up to Lucéa's face.
She looks just like Mother, he realized vaguely. Then another thought intruded. Corran!
The pain faded to a half-felt ache as he sought his Master. The Corellian Jedi was pale and his face was drawn, but he seemed uninjured. Thank the Maker.
"What happened?" Lucéa demanded.
"There was a disturbance in the Force," Corran said hoarsely. "As if many thousands of voices cried out and were suddenly silenced."
"Something terrible happened." Anakin suppressed a shiver. All those people, all at once...
Lucéa's face darkened. "Do you know where?"
Corran shook his head wearily. "I wish I did."
"Then there's nothing we can do." The young queen crossed her arms and looked from master to apprentice. "As callous as that sounds, you both know it to be true."
Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but Corran silenced him with a simple gesture. He knew when to hold his tongue. "You are wise for your age, your majesty." Gathering his green robe around him, the last Jedi Knight bowed his head slightly. "We should get under cover."
"This way." Lucéa threw a wary glance at the sky - a habit as natural as breathing among the Nubians - and started for one of the squat prefab shelters that dotted the ruins of the capital.
***
Maker preserve us.
Han blinked. He had not heard the voice in nearly a day and so much had happened since then that he had had the luxury of pretending it did not exist. Now it was back, louder and more persistent then ever. And it sounded worried, which had never been a good thing in the more than a decade that Han had put up with it.
He leaned back in the pilot's chair and glanced around to make sure no one else had snuck into the cockpit. When he was satisfied, he lowered his voice to the barest whisper. "What happened?"
There was a disturbance in the Force. And if I can feel it... The voice trailed off for a moment, lost in its own thoughts.
At some point Han knew that he, the Corellian smuggler with about as much Force ability as space dust, had to admit that Anakin Skywalker was speaking to him from beyond the grave. Not Vader, not a Sith or a dark spirit, but a genuine Jedi Knight. Whatever else Luke had done in his life, he had saved a soul.
Not that anyone even remembered the name Luke Skywalker anymore. Palpatine had seen to that.
The Empire has done something terrible, the voice said again. Even after all these years, it was easier for Han to deal with if he just thought of it as 'the voice'. It isn't another Alderaan, but there were many innocent deaths.
"Wonderful," Han muttered. The stars streamed past, heedless of the Falcon racing past them. He wondered if they were the only eternal things the universe had left. "Just wonderful."
You still care.
He did not bother to answer. Instead he shoved himself up and made his way to the cockpit door.
Where are you going?
"To check on the kids. Or does the Force have a problem with that?"
The voice wisely said nothing.
Han walked the short distance to the Falcon's lounge and stopped in the wide doorway, propping himself up on the wall. Hal was nowhere in sight, but everyone else had managed to crowd in. Goldenrod was acting as referee for some sort of game by the holotable. Darklighter's astromech droid and Melody's Wookie friend were the two players. From the looks of things, they had discovered an old Captain Fantastic spaceblaster card Hal had insisted on buying a few months ago. Han did not bother to point out that neither one of them was going to match Hal's score any time soon. The kid could fly as well as his father, even in a cheap holosim.
Jessa Calrissian had settled herself crosslegged on the floor with a steaming plate in her lap. From the smell trying to eat away at Han's nose, it was a variant of Lando's giju stew. Her full attention was locked on Melody, who had set her blaster on low power and was firing with perfect accuracy at a blindingly fast targeting remote. The other remote was in Darklighter's hands. He was at one of the minor repair stations and was happily engrossed with some of the jammed inner circuitry.
"So can we forget our Imp troubles yet?" Melody asked as she fired another mock shot. The remote chimed to indicate another hit before zipping straight up and over her head. It was probably set on a difficult evasive routine, but the young thief was making short work of it. Han could probably have done much the same thing in his younger days.
At the moment, though, he was not in the mood to shoot at anything. He settled himself in an empty chair. "They're not following us. I checked twice." He glanced around the room again. Still no sign of the kid. "What happened to Hal?"
"Haven't seen him." Melody holstered her blaster, automatically stopping the remote. For someone who could spot a security spy in an auction crowd, she was remarkably bad at recognizing her own boyfriend's moods. Han had no doubt that she did not even know Hal had a ring stashed away somewhere. Then again, he was not supposed to know about it, so maybe the kid was just being secretive.
"Ben?" Jessa asked around a mouthful of the stew. "You want to try?"
Darklighter shook his head. "I don't have a blaster. And it's not like I'd be any good at fighting."
"You've got a weapon," Jessa said. If Han had not known any better, he would have said this was a long-running argument between the two. "You either learn how to use it or it'll just get you in more trouble."
Darklighter started to open his mouth, but now everyone's attention was on him. With a resigned sigh, he reached into his pocket and produced a long metal cylinder.
Han felt sick. A lightsaber. The kid's even got a lightsaber.
Melody looked from Jessa to Darklighter and back again. "Something you're not telling us?" she asked. Han knew that tone of voice. It was polite and understanding, which from her usually meant violence in the near future.
"I found it," Darklighter said defensively. "I didn't want it. It was just the only weapon I could find."
"So try it already." Jessa abandoned the stew and stalked over to Darklighter. "I'm not saying you're a Jedi, Ben, but maybe we'll get a little slack from the stormgoons if it looks like we've got one with us."
"Just what I want," Darklighter muttered. "Imps thinking I can tie people's guts in a knot."
Jessa grabbed Melody's remote out of the air. "Try it, okay? Humor me."
With a resigned sigh, Darklighter stood up and hit a switch on the lightsaber. The all too familiar hum of an emerald-green blade filled the air. Nodding to herself, Jessa released the remote and stepped back. She had put it on its lowest setting, so that it moved slowly and shot low-power stinging bolts instead of stun blasts.
Watch. The voice was tense with worry. Watch and see. You'll see what I was worried about.
Darklighter tried. He really did. But he had obviously never handled anything resembling a lightsaber before and he clearly did not want to be anywhere near the banned weapon. As it was, he took a couple of hits before he gave up and deactivated the remote. "Told you," he said with a glare in Jessa's direction. "I'm no good at this."
"The Force wasn't with you, that's for sure." Jessa leaned on the wall and worried her lower lip as if working out a particularly difficult problem.
Melody rolled her eyes. "The Force?" she echoed. "You actually believe in that dung?"
"I've seen too much not to believe in it," Jessa answered.
Hokey religions and ancient weapons... Han could feel each word coming.
And sure enough, they did. "Come on," Melody said with a loud snort. "Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side. Or a pair of them, for that matter. I've seen a lot too, Calrissian. But I've never seen anything to make me believe some all-powerful Force controls my destiny."
Tell the boy to put on the helmet.
Han's eyes flew from a dejected Darklighter to the blast helmet hanging from a wall hook. All right. I can do this. He leaned over and grabbed the helmet. "Hey, kid," he called. "Put this on."
Darklighter caught the tossed helmet and eyed it suspiciously. "With the blast shield down I can't even see. How can I block anything?"
"Just try it already." Han sank back in the chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could see what would happen. Maker help him, he could actually remember it. Only last time the kid had been a little shorter, with lighter hair and blue eyes instead of green. He had been skeptical about the helmet, too.
And with all the power hindsight gave, Han remembered how well that had all turned out.
He wanted to just tell the voice where to shove it. But he could not. He knew what had to happen, because the fragging prophecy would not permit anything else.
Tell him to stretch out with his feelings. He can do it.
I'm sorry, kid. Han echoed the voice, earning a narrow-eyed look from Melody and a pair of raised eyebrows from Jessa. Darklighter just held the lightsaber awkwardly and waited.
A shot came. Then another. And another.
He blocked them all.
"Luck," Melody said sharply.
"Sometimes there's no such thing as luck," Jessa retorted. She waited until Darklighter deactivated the lightsaber and removed the helmet before plucking the remote out of the air and shutting it off. "Ben, there's someone I want you to meet after we finish this. His name's Corran. I think he'll want to talk to you." She sounded resigned - and not at all happy about the boy's accomplishment.
Han could not stand it anymore. Ignoring Melody's suspicious glower, trying to ignore Darklighter and Jessa, he stalked out of the lounge and turned toward his quarters. The memories were not left behind so easily. It was all the same. Everything was the same. At least Hal didn't see this, he thought, desperate to find a bright side. At least he didn't hear.
He rounded a corner - and found himself facing his copilot. He had never seen Hal's face so white.
"We have to talk," the young man said woodenly. "I want to know about my father."
***
Denilee looked away from the window as the doors to the tiny apartment slid open. "Nanny?" she asked. "Did you tell my daddy?"
"Of course I told your daddy." Nanny's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "We need to talk, child."
"Okay." Denilee folded her hands in her lap like she had been taught to do when someone used that tone of voice. "What do you want to talk about?"
"Why were you studying the Rebellion?"
Denilee considered denying it for a moment, but she knew it would be no use. Hiding anything from Nanny was next to impossible. "None of my tutors would tell me anything about it," she explained. "They just said it was evil and it was going to be destroyed and stuff. But maybe that isn't going to happen. Maybe it's going to be like Yavin." She worried her lower lip as she thought of her next words. "I want to see the Rebels' view."
Nanny sighed. "But why Yavin? You know the Emperor hates that topic."
"I want to know who blew up the Death Star."
There was a long silence in which Nanny just looked at her. For the first time Denilee had ever seen, the unflappable woman could find nothing to say.
"Why?" she asked finally. "Why should that even matter to you?"
"Because somebody erased it from the databanks." She saw something flash in Nanny's eyes, but she could not stop now. "The Rebel flew better than Daddy and the Lord Darth Vader. I think that if they could beat Sith, they could save the Rebellion now. I want to know who they are so they can't hurt Irek or Daddy."
Nanny leaned over and hugged her suddenly. Denilee wriggled around so she could look at the regal woman's face and felt a surge of guilt and shock. She's going to cry, she realized. I made Nanny cry.
"The Rebel was a boy," Nanny said softly. "Not much older than Mikel. He was a very brave person and one of the best pilots in the galaxy." She smiled sadly. "You don't have to worry about him. Your father killed him before Mikel was born."
"Did you know him?" Denilee whispered.
"I never met him. But I was one of his mother's servants a long time ago. I would like to think that I was her friend, too." She gave Denilee a kiss on the forehead. "It's nothing to worry your little head about, sweetling."
A tone sounded and both of them looked toward the door. "Yes?" Nanny called.
"We are ready," a gravelly voice mewed.
"Come in."
Two beings hurried inside - a Noghri and a tall, blond woman who actually made Denilee shiver. It was not that she felt wrong so much as there was nothing about her to feel. She was simply not there.
But the Noghri actually made her giggle. "Khabarakh!"
"It is good to see you well, second-daughter." The bodyguard's eyes locked on Nanny. "You know what we are risking."
"And I would not ask you to do what I would not do myself." Nanny looked over at the blond woman. "Did you bring clothing?"
The woman produced a small bundle and handed it to Denilee. "Put these on."
Denilee took the bundle without questioning what was going on. She knew that she could not go around dressed as a princess, of course, but it was strange not to be wearing silks and gold cloth.
As she stepped into the only bedroom and shut the door, she realized it was also strange to be dressing herself.
I wanted to be normal, right? She stripped out of the red dress and abandoned its various layers on the floor. Once she had put on her new outfit - brown shirt, tan leggings, brown boots - she began to yank the veils and jewels out of her hair. For a moment she considered saving them, since they were probably worth about as much as a small planet, but she did not think someone dressed like this would really have gems of any kind, much less pressure rubies. She finger-combed her hair to get rid of every last adornment, leaving her looking...
Like a regular girl from any of a thousand different planets. It was kind of wonderful.
She dug through the bedroom drawers until she found a stocking of some sort. I wonder whose apartment this is, she thought as she pried the Jewel of Zenda out of its gaudy gold mounting. When it was free, she stuck the Jewel in the stocking and knotted the end tight before sticking it in her shirt's pocket. She was not going to leave Imperial Center without it, no matter how strange it might look.
I'm leaving Imperial Center. She knew it was true, even if she did not want to think about it. It would only be a matter of time before the Emperor found her here, but out in the galaxy she could disappear and he would never see her again.
Except he would later, when she came back and made him pay for everything he had done. She would make him beg and plead and then she would kill him with her daddy's lightsaber. Or maybe she would just hand him to a torture droid like she had seen him do once or twice. No one had told her what a torture droid was or even that it existed, but Denilee was not stupid. She could see the terror on the face of whatever unfortunate was being dragged off to a slow death - and more importantly, she could feel another voice adding to the silent screams.
She would make sure he paid for everything he had done. And then she and Mikel and Daddy and Irek and Nanny and...and whoever wanted to come could go see every star in the universe.
But first she had to get away.
She bundled all the pressure rubies and veils inside her old dress and rolled it up into a little ball. Then she walked out into the main room, where Nanny, Khabarakh, Bellar and the tall woman were talking quietly.
"I'm ready to go," she said. She was very proud to realize her voice did not shake. "Where should I put these?"
"On the floor," Nanny said. When Denilee did as she had been told, the woman pulled out a disrupter and disintegrated them. It was like watching her life as a princess disappearing forever.
Goodbye, Mikel. She did not know if her brother could hear her, but she had to try. I'll come back for you.
Denilee?! The answer was faint. Denilee, where are - ?
She blocked him out before anyone could feel them talking. "Now what?"
"My ship is waiting in a public hangar not far from here." The woman looked at each of them. "You are sure about this?"
Nanny scooped up Denilee and balanced her on a hip. "We are sure, Guri. Once we're away from Imperial Center, I'll tell you where to take us."
"We must hurry." Khabarakh cast one last cautious glance around the room. Then he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Bellar followed him, then Nanny with Denilee, and the strange woman Guri bringing up the rear.
Daddy? Denilee stretched out as softly as she could. She had never been able to talk her father like she could with Mikel, but maybe he would hear her now. I'm okay, Daddy. I'm going to make everything right someday. I promise.
She looked at Nanny's worried face and felt a tiny doubt creep into her mind. "Your father killed him before Mikel was born." And Bellar's words, hastily recanted. "From a certain point of view..."
Was it even possible to be a Sith and a daddy? It was like there were two different people - one of them the man everyone else seemed to hate, and the other Denilee's beloved Daddy, strong and brave and still caught by the Emperor.
She rested her head on Nanny's shoulder and tried hard not to think about all those things. It's all going to be okay, she thought furiously. I'm going to fix everything and make the galaxy better. I know I am.
***
"Our scouts have returned from Mandalore," the lieutenant - Bodin, Rage thought - said crisply. "There were no remains of any Rebel base, current or otherwise. My men are now conducting a search of the surrounding area." He bowed his head stiffly and executed a military turn and exit that would have left any drill instructor a happy man.
"She lied," Alai said. The Emperor's Hand seemed to be taking this as a personal affront. "She lied to us."
"You yourself have called her a brilliant young woman on occasion." Rage kept his voice mild, although a part of him would have been perfectly content to snap the young woman's neck. True, they had removed a small thorn in the form of the Bakuran capital. But the Rebellion's base had not been located, nor had anything about the whereabouts of the stolen prophecy been revealed.
A muscle in Alai's cheek twitched for a moment. "Terminate her," she said softly. "Immediately."
"An excellent idea," Rage said calmly. "See to it."
Her voice was deadly soft. "At least I have the decency not to turn my back when I pull the trigger." Rage did not know if he was meant to hear or to understand. It hardly mattered, as she turned sharply and marched out of the room before he could raise any question about her words.
She was a fine servant, this Emperor's Hand. But she was not her predecessor. Traitor or not, Mara Jade had done a far better job.
Daddy?
All thoughts of Jade, Thanas, and even Luwellaen vanished in a heartbeat. The call was faint, but he recognized it nonetheless. I am here.
I'm okay, Daddy. I'm going to make everything right someday. I promise.
He felt something strange cross his scarred face. A smile. I do not doubt you, daughter.
He did not know if she heard. But he did know, in a way that had nothing to do with the Force and everything to do with a father's love, that she understood.
I wonder, he mused silently, if it is possible to be a father and a Sith. The Emperor did not seem to think so, but then the Emperor had never been able to see beyond power and politics. What was the point of destroying the insidious evils of chaos and destruction if there was not someone to present the end result to?
His eyes fell on the holos of his children. I will give you the galaxy, he told them silently. And I will kill Palpatine myself before I let you live in fear of him.
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