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One of the life lessons Ben had hoped never to learn was the fact that escaping from a Super Star Destroyer was a lot easier than it looked. All that was necessary was a few oblivious officers, a well-timed hit to the head - something he was becoming quite good at - and a spare utility closet. Apparently Imperial discipline was such that no one questioned a lieutenant, even a particularly young one.
Unfortunately, such was not the case with Melody.
"You're going where?" the guard asked, regarding the thief with beady eyes. Ben could see him trying to wrap his mind around the concept of a woman outranking him. He hoped Malinza Thanas was out of sight; the last thing they needed was to be seen with a fugitive.
None of this stopped Melody, who seemed to have been taking lessons from Jessa. She puffed her chest out importantly - possibly not the best idea under the circumstances - and pinned the guard with a truly disgusted look. "To examine the status of the Rebel prisoner for Lord Rage. What part of that isn't getting through your thick skull?"
The guard narrowed his eyes. "Lord Rage was just here," he said after a moment.
Melody gaped at him. "You're questioning the Emperor's right-hand man? Are you really that anxious to meet the Maker?"
Now the guard really looked suspicious. "Who do you think you are? What's your operating number?"
That threw her. "Uh..."
The guard started to raise his hand toward his comlink. He never had chance to turn it on, because Melody chose that moment to shoot him.
Ben's mind froze for a moment as he tried to grasp what he was seeing. "You just killed someone," he whispered.
Melody shrugged. "Boring conversation anyway." Then she stopped and gave Ben a long look. "It's either us or them, kid. Get used to it."
No words came in response to that, but that did not stop Ben from answering in the privacy of his own head. I don't want to get used to it. He looked down at the dead guard and shivered, hardly aware of Malinza pushing past him. The Imperial's staring eyes were the same color as Shay's. Stars, what happens to someone when they can kill without feeling anything?
A picture of Rage rose up in his mind, and he forced it away. He decided he did not want to know.
He took a step toward the interrogation room - only to be stopped by a white-faced Malinza. The governor stood framed in the doorway, holding up one hand like a guardian out of the oldest stories. "You don't want to go in there," she said softly.
Ben started to push past her. "What about Han?"
"Melody's getting him." Malinza squeezed her eyes shut. "There's some things in there you shouldn't see, okay?"
He opened his mouth to protest the matter - to say that after seeing a sentient being shot right in front of him, what else could possibly shock him? But something in Malinza's expression made him stop. He had never known ignorance and innocence could be something to treasure.
In any case, Melody's reappearance rendered the point moot. She emerged from the interrogation room pale and grim-faced. And behind her, haggard and worn...
"Han!" Ben reached over to help the smuggler, but his aid was waved away. He settled for grinning like an idiot. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Sure, kid." Han muttered. His eyes rested on Malinza for a moment, turning to Melody only when the governor began to shift uneasily under the intense scrutiny. "Where's Hal?"
"Alive." Melody's voice was tight. "Ben told me that much. I don't know about Jessa or Lumpy."
"Ben told you?"
"I can feel him," Ben explained quickly. He just knew that Malinza was going to jump in with some comment about using the Force and being a Jedi - one more thing he did not need at the moment.
Han nodded once, looking more uneasy than before. "What aren't you telling me?"
Melody's lips pressed into a thin line. There was a long, heavy silence before she spoke again. "An Imp freed us. An admiral. She acted as rear guard."
Han frowned. "'She?' Archimedes, by any chance?" When Melody nodded, his face contorted into a grimace. "Former Royal Guard." He looked right at Malinza. "She executed Mothma."
"I know," Malinza said tightly. "I also know that she was a prisoner like me, and she promised to help me escape. She freed an entire cell block. People change, General Solo. As you should know."
What does she mean by that? Ben caught Melody's eye and saw his bewilderment echoed in her expression. Whatever it was the governor was hinting at, the young woman was as clueless to its meaning as he was.
Han, however, just turned away from Malinza. "Come on," he muttered. "We're going back to the Falcon."
"What about the tractor beam?" Melody demanded.
"It'll be busy with those other prisoners. That's why Archimedes released them." Han pinned Malinza with another of those looks. "An Imp's still an Imp."
The regal young woman drew herself up proudly. "And I suppose my parents are the exceptions?" she asked. There was a decided edge in her voice.
Han just glared at her. Ben had the strange impression that someone else was looking over the smuggler's shoulder. He shivered, unable to shake the impression that not all of Han's words were addressed to the governor. But who else could he be speaking to?
Melody cleared her throat. "I hate to break this up, but we've got a dead guard out there. Unless you want to stay here," she added with a nod to the interrogation room.
"Right." Han took Malinza's blaster rifle before she could protest and started for the door. "Follow me."
"Since when do you know the layout of a Super Star Destroyer?" Melody muttered.
Malinza gave her a withering look. "Since he helped sabotage one, girl."
Melody's biting response was lost on Ben, who felt something inside him freeze as the full import of that exchange sank in. "Han's a Rebel?" he croaked.
Malinza rolled her eyes. "Brilliant deduction."
"Fry in frag," Melody snapped at the other young woman. She gave a Ben a look that might almost have been called sympathetic. "Yeah, he's a Rebel. He was at Endor."
Stars and sand! Ben felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Oh, Maker! What did Jessa get me into? Where is Jessa?
Then another thought occurred to him. "Does that mean Hal's a Rebel too?" he whispered.
Melody glowered at nothing in particular. "Of course not." But it was said a little too quickly. Her grip tightened on her blaster rifle. "He's not that dumb. Ask him yourself if you want."
Ben did not answer. He had the feeling that it was Melody who was going to do the asking when they found Hal - and that she was not going to like her boyfriend's answers.
***
Lucéa Naberrie sat on a small prefab chair, flanked by a Gungan general and a serene old woman. No white makeup accented the red marks on her cheeks and lips, just as no elaborate costume hid her identity from the world. Instead she wore a form-fitting jumpsuit under a simple woven shawl. Her dark hair was smoothed back in a simple bun, while a heavy blaster rested in her lap like some ancient king's sceptor. She was regal and undeniably beautiful, and she held herself with the sort of self-possession only the greatest rulers could accomplish.
There was no mistaking her resemblance to Padmé Naberrie Skywalker. Or to that woman's accursed whelp, Leia Organa Solo. Palpatine's gnarled hands closed around his cane as his dream came back to him. No. Naberrie though she was, Lucéa was not a Skywalker. His agents had traced her family line as well as could be expected on a planet bombed past recognition, and he was almost certain that she was nothing more than a relative many generations removed.
He was almost certain.
In the privacy of his receiving room he had no need for the pretense of diplomacy. "I was not expecting such idiocy from you, girl."
"Do not insult me, Palpatine." She had the same accent as her predecessor, down to the slightest inflection. "You are in no position to threaten me."
"The same could be said of you."
One perfect eyebrow arched. "Indeed. That was the case. Now, however, I have something that may be of interest to you. If your garrison surrenders unconditionally and the Empire leaves Naboo forever."
This was getting ridiculous. "You overstep your bounds."
"Do I? I was under the impression rulers such as ourselves had none." She steepled her fingers and leaned back in her makeshift throne. "Let us assume, for the moment, that I am not simply being impudent. Let us assume that I am offering you a fair trade. Order your garrison to surrender, and I will give you something very valuable in return."
Palpatine fought the urge to laugh. The child-queen played the part as well as her predecessor, but he knew bluffing when he saw it. "What could you possibly offer me?"
Lucéa's eyes narrowed fractionally. "Leia Organa Solo's son."
***
At least Jessa seemed to know where she was going. Hal had to count his blessings somewhere, because at the moment they were few and far between. Maybe it was his imagination, but he was sure there was some sort of horrible, omnipresent darkness pressing down on the Executor. And then there was the tiny ember that he had come to associate with the farmboy Ben Darklighter. He would not have been able to find the younger boy's presence in the Force if he had not known what he was looking for. Each time he stretched out with his mind, he was sure that Rage would descend on him and send him off to be terminated.
Almost as if she was reading his mind, Jessa threw an anxious glance over her shoulder. "Hal? Any sign of the Sith?"
"Not yet." He heard her unspoken question. "And your boy - "
She gave him a warning look.
"And Ben's safe and sound," Hal amended. She actually smiled - a brilliant, genuine smile - and somehow that made it worthwhile. Sometimes smiles were more precious than any credits.
A moment later, she was completely serious. "We need to get the droids out of storage before they're wiped. And we need to get that datadot back somehow."
Hal looked at her and saw that she was completely serious. And suddenly he had had enough. "No."
Her eyes widened for a moment, as if she was shocked that he was disobeying her. Hal wondered if she had been flat-out refused very often - or ever. "What did you say?"
"I said no. Not until you tell me why I should risk my neck for those slagheaps and a cheap datadot."
Jessa's mouth was a thin, bloodless line. Hal wondered if she was going to shoot him then and there. He heard Lumpy rumble behind him. [Wonder which of us the furball's supporting?] he wondered silently. But all he did was meet Jessa's flashing eyes and try desperately to outstare her.
She sighed and lowered her blaster rifle. "Do you believe in prophecies?"
[Oh, frag. Maybe I should have stuck with CorSec.] Hal licked dry lips. "I don't know," he said honestly. "If you had asked me yesterday, I would have said no. Now..." He shrugged.
"A Jedi Knight named Pythia Decielle wrote two prophecies a thousand years ago," Jessa explained. Her words were quick and soft, as if she was afraid that someone might hear her. "One was the Cycle of the Chosen One and the other was the Circle."
Hal rolled his eyes. "I thought Jedi always spat out prophecies. What's so special about those two?"
"One already came true. If the other one is just as accurate, we'll be able to predict the Emperor's decisions and stop him."
Hal just stared at her. "You're not making this up, are you? And what's this 'we' you keep talking about?"
Jessa just smiled indulgently. "You're a Rebel, Hal. We both know it." Like before, the expression vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. "Besides, I don't think either of us have much choice. We're in this up to our necks."
"What?" Hal didn't mean for his voice to be a croaking whisper, but that was how it came out.
She dropped her eyes to the deck. "I've read the Circle prophecy. Part of it, anyway. That datadot has one section. It talks about people who are going to decide what happens to the galaxy. You, me, Ben, maybe even Lumpy - we're all important somehow. I'm sure of it."
"You got all that from reading Jedi nonsense?"
Jessa shook her head. "No. Admiral Antilles told me some."
"Oh." So she did not know everything after all. That made Hal feel a little better.
Then the full import of what she was saying hit him. "Wait a minute. The leader of the Rebellion knew about me? And about Ben? The farmboy hasn't even left Tatooine"
"I told you," Jessa said. There was something in her voice that could have cut durasteel. "We're part of this. I think maybe we've always been."
Lumpy rumbled something that sounded like disbelief. Hal wished he could muster up similar denial. But he could not. Too much had happened in the past few days. "So what do we do now?" he asked.
"I don't know. What we have to, maybe." Jessa lifted her blaster, and suddenly she was her normal self again. "Come on. Let's get those droids."
Hal looked at Lumpy. The Wookie did not seem to be very happy, but there was little that either of them could do at the moment. All he could do was keep going and hope that the galaxy sorted itself out before he dragged himself and Melody even deeper in the dung heap.
As he followed Jessa, it suddenly occurred to him that she had not mentioned the girl he loved more than anything in the universe. And for a reason he could not name, that realization chilled him to the core.
"Just one question," Malinza murmured. "Do you know your history, boy?"
Ben leaned against the bulkhead, still catching his breath from yet another long sprint. Han could run very fast when he chose to. At least now they were in what the smuggler had called a blind spot, so they could take a moment to rest. Just as well. Any more sprinting and Ben was sure his lungs would burst. The air here was too moist and too cool. His sweat felt like ice against his skin. "What?"
"Do you know your history?" the governor repeated impatiently.
"Probably not." Ben tried to smile, but he could not quite manage it. "I grew up on Tatooine."
This piece of information seemed to trouble Malinza. "Tatooine?" she repeated.
"That's right. I was a mechanic." Ben frowned at her. "Why?"
Malinza let out a long, tired sigh before she spoke again. "Have you ever heard of the Death Star?"
Ben stared at her blankly. "Death what?"
"An enormous battle station, as big as a moon and capable of destroying a planet."
"Oh." He remembered a few of Aunt Olivea's stories, before Sasha had decided she did not want to hear them anymore. "It was the Empire's battle station, wasn't it? It destroyed Alderaan."
Malinza was quiet for a moment as quiet pain crossed her face. Ben winced. He had not meant to just bring up the Empire's mass murders so casually. He started to apologize, but by then she had recovered and was speaking in her usual precise, aristocratic tone. "Exactly right, boy. Now think hard. Do you know the name Leia Organa?"
"My name's Ben, you know." When Malinza just raised a perfect eyebrow, he sighed and gave up. "I think Leia Organa was a Rebel of some kind. She was on the holonews when I was little. The announcers really hated her."
"Of course they did. Imperial stooges."
Ben decided not to point out that, for all intents and purposes, Malinza was the Imperial stooge to top all Imperial stooges. He did not need the grief. "If you know all about her, why are you asking me?"
Malinza dropped her eyes to the deck for a moment as she visibly collected her thoughts. She looked as if she was trying to make a difficult decision. Then she squared her shoulders and looked right at him. "Have you ever heard of the Sky -- "
"Malinza!"
Han must have overheard that last bit, because he grabbed the governor roughly and spun her around so she was facing him. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.
"Making sure you don't make a mistake," Han growled. "I don't care how high and mighty you are. You don't know everything."
"I know enough, Captain Solo. Don't presume to tell me otherwise. I've read my history."
Han glared at her. Ben expected him to shout, but he did not. His voice was so quiet that surely even Malinza had to strain to hear it. "You haven't lived it, have you?"
Malinza's dark eyes narrowed. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You're trying to protect this...this boy."
"I have a name," Ben muttered. He was ignored, of course.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Han snapped.
"Don't I? I'm the one with my eyes open. I'm not the one afraid of the past."
"Because you don't know any better."
Melody tapped her boot on the floor. Thump thump. Thump thump. "So do you two always argue loudly enough for the Imps to hear, or are you just trying to impress me?"
Both Han and Malinza looked at her as if she had sprouted another head, but she had a good point. Han released his grip on the governor and glowered at nothing in particular. "Come on. We need to get to the Falcon."
"Congratulations. Your brilliance knows no bounds." Melody grabbed Ben and practically hauled him along. "Looks like we're the only sane ones here," she murmured when they had moved ahead of the others.
Ben felt like pointing out that no one in the middle of a Super Star Destroyer with a wanted Rebel, a zealous aristocrat and a trigger-happy thief could possibly be called sane. Instead he just shrugged. "I guess."
"At least we've got our eyes open," she spat as they rounded a corner and ran right into a squad of Imps.
***
Droid-stealing was not a particularly intellectual activity. This was just fine with Jessa, who was not feeling anywhere near cerebral at the moment. That was why she did not bother with subterfuge or uniform-snatching and stuck with the good old 'shoot first, ask questions later' method.
The only flaw in this plan was the fact that there were plenty of surveillance cameras in the room. There was no time to shoot the guards, destroy the cameras and grab the droids before reenforcements showed up to blast her, Hal and Lumpy. Jessa had considered this minor detail and eventually concluded that she had always wanted her face in an Imp bounty notice. It gave her a certain kind of celebrity.
Hal did not see it that way, of course.
"You're crazy," he said flatly. "All of those Sacorrian spices fried your brain."
Jessa glared at him. "What makes you say I'm Sacorrian?"
"Your accent, maybe? Or the fact that your father owns half of my homeworld?" Hal shrugged. "I don't know. Take your pick."
There should have been an appropriately crushing retort at the tip of her tongue. If the universe worked properly, Jessa would have made some comment about his mother or his planet or...or something and he would have been left gaping like a hungry space slug. Then again, if the universe worked properly, she would not be trying to steal two hunks of scrap back from the Imps.
"Fine," she muttered. "Be that way. I'm getting those droids."
Hal stared after her. "You're not kidding, are you?" Jessa saw him look at Lumpy, who shrugged. After a moment, both of them followed her along the corridor, hugging the bulkheads so that they stayed out of sight.
"So when do we jump out and scream our heads off?" Hal asked.
"We're not screaming our heads off. That's something your girlfriend would do."
"Melody wouldn't -- "
Jessa elbowed him. "Quiet! On three, we start shooting. Ready?"
Hal and Lumpy nodded.
"THREE!" She spun into the center corridor and opened fire. The flabbergasted guards did not even have time to draw their weapons. Maybe Jessa was not the best shot in the galaxy, but she had been running guns since she was fifteen. She knew how to point and pull the trigger. Flanked by Hal and Lumpy, she advanced on the guards. One of them fumbled for his comlink, but before Jessa could even take aim, he screamed something about teeth and dropped it. Hal had a funny look on his face as he blasted the unfortunate guard. Jessa grimaced; the last thing they needed was Rage tracking them down again.
But she could not berate him now -- not when the cameras were still functioning. Instead she hurried over to console and checked the records. "Room three," she said quickly. "Get the droids and the datadot."
Lumpy disappeared into the back rooms. Jessa kept her head bent over the console, trying to hide her face with her braids. There was probably a squad or four on its way already. And to make matters worse, Hal was just standing there staring at the cameras like they were the Maker's gift to technology.
"Hey, Jessa?" he said suddenly.
Jessa ignored him. [Shut up, you fool. Shut up.]
"Jessa?"
[Shut up!]
"Jessa!"
"What?!" Jessa rounded on Hal, ready to smack him for being a complete idiot. "What could be so fragging important that you would mention my name in front of the cameras!"
Hal smiled mirthlessly. "Funny that you should put it like that." He pointed up.
And Jessa looked from camera to camera, her heart hammering harder against her ribs as she spun quickly to take in the entire room. All the lights were out.
Someone had deactivated the cameras. Every single one of them.
***
The Imps stared at Ben and Melody. Ben stared right back at the Imps as his heart dropped into his boots. He supposed this was where he should make some witty comment or at least beg for mercy, but his brain did not seem to be functioning. All he managed was the deathless "Oh, frag."
Which, in retrospect, was still slightly better than Melody's yodel.
The thief threw herself at the Imps. Literally. She and the nearest unfortunate went down in a flailing tangle of legs, arms and blaster rifles. For a moment Ben considered jumping in to help her, but by then she had hit the Imp in a place that was probably quite painful no matter how much armor protected it and had jumped back to her feet. Maybe the Imps knew how to handle hordes of primitives or desperate Rebels, but they were clearly at a loss when it came to one crazed psychopath. The fact that she was holding a lethal weapon like a club was definitely not helping matters.
Then she charged, screaming at the top of her lungs, and that was just too much. The squad turned tail and ran. Melody chased after them, possibly to drive them away and possibly because she had completely forgotten about everything else. After a moment they all vanished from view.
Ben looked down at the remaining stormtrooper, who was still curled up in a ball. He smiled weakly. "Um, sorry."
"You're apologizing?" Malinza said behind him as she and Han caught up. The petite governor glared down at the Imp, then pulled her foot back and gave him a good kick. "Why haven't you shot him?"
Ben just gaped at her, utterly appalled. "I can't do that!"
"Obviously not." Malinza glanced back at Han, who was staring down the corridor with an expression that warred between disbelief and amusement. Melody's battle cries still echoed from somewhere. "So now what do we do with him?"
Han's lips pressed into a thin line. Ben realized that the smuggler -- Rebel -- whatever he was -- was probably going to blast the Imp then and there. He felt sick. He did not want to see another dead body, not after he had seen four very familiar ones not so long ago. The Imps had done horrible things to his home and his family, but that did not mean he could punish a single one for no reason. Maybe this stormtrooper had been conscripted. Maybe he had a family and a Shay of his own, waiting for him on some other backwater world that the universe ignored. Maybe he had just had his eyes on the stars.
Before Han could speak, Ben stepped forward and tugged the Imp's helmet off.
The boy who stared up at him was perhaps Ben's age, perhaps a year or two younger. He had very dark hair plastered against his head and clear gray eyes. Eyes like Shay's. Eyes like the officer Melody had killed. He stared up at Ben in wide-eyed astonishment, for a moment looking much younger than he really was.
"Wonderful. Just what I need." Malinza pushed Ben aside roughly and levelled her blaster at the Imp, but she did not shoot. Maybe she could not now that she was facing a real person and not a personification of the Empire. After a moment she lowered her weapon.
Han nodded slowly. Maybe he would not have shot the boy after all. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Z071-S1147."
Ben blinked. "That's his name?"
"No, idiot." Malinza frowned at the newly unmasked Imp. "Your real name. Not your number. I know you have one, so don't play dumb."
The Imp's eyes unfocused for a moment. "Jagged," he said slowly, as if he was not really sure of what he was saying. "Jagged F-Fel."
Malinza threw a startled look at Han, who just shook his head. For once the smuggler looked taken by surprised. Ben wondered why. The boy did not seem particularly familiar. He could have been any stormtrooper -- or any Rebel, for that matter. "What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing important." Han held out his hand to the boy.
Jagged Fel just looked up at him. "You're not going to kill me?"
"No," Malinza said slowly. "I guess we aren't." She did not look very happy with the idea.
"Can't we just stun him or something?" Ben asked impatiently. Any minute now that squad was going to realize that Melody was a human being and not a force of nature.
"Might as well shoot him. Rage doesn't take failure lightly." Han frowned at Jagged, who was still sitting on the deck. Then he held out his hand. "Come on, kid."
Malinza threw up her free hand in utter disgust. "Are you insane? We're not a charity!"
"I thought you cared about whether or not people died." Ben hardly recognized his own voice. He was losing his patience with the governor.
"I define people as 'beings who won't shoot me in the back,' Ben. I don't need an army rescuing me."
"Kiss a bantha." Ben looked back at Jagged, who was staring at him in a way that made his brain feel itchy. There was something about the other boy that was...familiar? No, that was not the right word. It was like hearing a jumbled, faint echo without knowing the original words. "Go ahead," he urged. "We're probably not going to hurt you."
Jagged nodded slowly and clasped Han's hand, allowing himself to be hauled to his feet. Just in time, too. At that moment Melody came running back down the corridor, shooting blindly behind her. "Time to go!" she shouted as she breezed by. If she noticed Jagged gaping at her, she took no notice.
Then the sound of booted feet grew louder and they were all running again.
***
There was a single ship in the refueling station. One bored-looking guard stood watch.
"It's Hapan," Guri said softly. Denilee twisted around to get a good look and saw that yes, the small ship had the familiar curving, outwardly delicate structure she had come to associate with Hapan ships.
Nanny's brow furrowed. "Did King Isoldur order a ship moved here?" When Bellar shook his head, she tightened her grip on Denilee and threw a wary look around the station. There was no sign of a single mechanic or repair droid. Just the ship and the guard.
Abruptly something cold as ice stabbed through Denilee's thoughts. "Nanny..." she whispered.
"I know, sweetling. I know." Nanny threw a quick glance to Guri and Khabarakh, who both tightened their grips on their weapons. Bellar slid into what could only be called a battle stance and began to edge his way forward. After a moment Nanny followed him. Denilee kept twisting around, trying to see into all the shadows. She could almost see what was going to happen, and the almost-vision made her feel cold all over.
The sole guard stepped forward, leveling his gun at Nanny. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He even had the lilting Hapan accent. "I don't want to -- "
Bellar slid between them. "No. Don't do this."
The guard's eyes went wide with shock. "I..." He seemed to fumbling for words, as if shock had sealed them away. "What... what are you doing here? I wasn't -- "
Bellar's voice had no mercy. "Traitor."
There was a flash of light and the echoing sound of a blaster shot. Denilee twisted away so she would not see the body hit the ground, but that did not keep the feelings away. They rolled over her, like the scream from the Emperor's court a thousand times over, and it was all she could do not to retch. And just after that, rising from the shadows like a demon from stories...
"Look out! It's a trap!"
It was her voice, but she could not remember screaming. All she knew was that Nanny was running for the shelter of the ship. The others took up protective positions behind the refueling stations. The blaster bolts came from the observation deck running around and around high above them. Denilee squirmed free of Nanny's grip and rolled to one side, trying to geta better look at whoever was shooting at them. Black eyeholes in white helmets stared impassively back at her. She felt sick. Now that she had been seen, the blaster fire began to move away from her. The Emperor did not want her dead. He probably wanted to execute her publicly or something like that. Maybe he wanted to use the Force so she would agree with him and never give him any trouble.
Whatever the reason, she could get the others somewhere safe. She ran toward Khabarakh, smiling grimly as she saw the blaster fire scattering frantically to avoid her. As a white-faced Nanny watched, she threw herself beside the Noghri. "I want everybody else to get out of here. Nanny and I can fly the ship."
Khabarakh did not look at her, but she could still read his expressions. Noghri bodyguards had protected her family since before Mikel was born. Khabarakh had always been her favorite. She could see the indecision in his face.
"I need you to protect Mikel," she hissed. "He's the heir and he's stronger than me. If anyone can stop the Emperor, it's him."
For a long moment she thought the Noghri was going to disagree. Then he looked at Denilee briefly. "I see much of the Mal'ary'ush in you, second-daughter."
Denilee frowned at him. "Mal'ary'ush?"
But he did not answer her question. Instead he actually turned his attention away from the firefight long enough to meet her eyes. "Your family saved my people once. You are destined to do so again." Then he shoved her back toward Nanny. "Go! Soon you will not be able to fly away."
She opened her mouth to protest, but then someone was scooping her up. Bellar. The boy ran toward the ship. Somehow Nanny had the ramp open. She was firing at the stormtroopers with a silver blaster. "Get her on board!" he ordered. "We'll hold them off!"
"We talked about this before!" Nanny barked. "What will happen when you're found?"
Bellar's lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line, but he said nothing. He seemed unable to counter Nanny's argument.
Nanny pushed Denilee behind her. "The princess will understand. Either you come with us or I'm not leaving!"
"I hate you," Bellar muttered, but he hurried inside and ran toward the cockpit.
Nanny sealed the hatch and started to follow him. She had only taken a few steps when she turned back to Denilee. "Stay here," she ordered. "Don't touch anything."
Then she was gone, and there was only the hum of the ship and the sound of the firefight outside. There were no windows in the tiny room, nor was there anything that she could use as a weapon. There was only a table and chairs, an emergency quarantine unit, and a standard terminal. She felt worse than useless.
[All right,] she decided. [If Nanny wants me to stay here, I'm going to stay here. But I'm going to do something useful.] She marched over to the terminal and pressed what she hoped was the power switch. The configuration was Hapan in design, but at least all of the labels and commands were in Basic. She fiddled with the settings for a few moments, standing with feet shoulder-width apart so the tremors and shakes would not send her crashing to the floor, and connected to the Imperial information database. She had a sneaking suspicion, and she wanted to know whether or not it was true. Her mother's password gave her access to the higher-level functions, and she knew her way around the system. She had always been better at complex systems than her brother.
> RAGE NOGHRI
* CLASSIFIED *
Denilee worried her lower lip. It was hard to get into her father's files. If she wanted to know what he had done to help the Noghri, she would have to take a more roundabout approach.
> NOGHRI
135 ENTRIES FOUND
* CLASSIFIED *
> RAGE PROTECTION
41 ENTRIES FOUND
* CLASSIFIED *
All right. That was not going to work. Time to take a different approach.
> RAGE YAVIN
1 ENTRY FOUND
* CLASSIFIED *
At least that narrowed it down a little bit. If only she could get at that file, she could probably backtrack and find out more about the Noghri. If only she knew how to spell whatever it was Khabarakh had called her. What was it? Malaryary or something like that?
> LIST SURVIVOR YAVIN
4 ENTRIES FOUND
Finally. Denilee tapped another key and called up the names.
SEARCH RESULTS
------------------------
KRIF (M HUM) - LT., SURVEILLANCE SQUAD.
NEZZEX (M HUM) - CPL., SURVEILLANCE SQUAD.
VADER (M HUM) - LORD, UNATTACHED
YVENNA (M HUM) - CPL., 341 BETA
------------------------
Denilee stared at the screen. [Where's Daddy?] She blew out a shaky sigh. [Think,] she ordered herself sternly. [He's not Lord Vader, so he must be one of the others. Maybe he changed his name.] But how could she figure out who he was?
A moment later the answer came. [Date of death, silly. Whoever is still alive is Daddy.]
> DISP KRIF DOD
33 AF
> DISP NEZZEX DOD
40 AF
> DISP YVENNA DOD
22 AF
The prompt for the next command flashed insistantly. Denilee didn't even notice. How was that possible? Daddy had fought at Yavin. He had been Lord Vader's wingman. It was common knowledge. So why wouldn't he be here?
Unless...
A horrible suspicion began to form in her mind. She stared at the terminal, fingers poised over the keys, and tried to find the courage to seek the truth. If she did not try now, would she ever have the chance to try again? What if she was captured and executed by the Emperor? Could she die without knowing the truth?
No. She could not. She had to know, if only so she could find out who she really was.
> LIST SURVIVOR YAVIN REBEL
7 ENTRIES FOUND
> DISP LAST
SEARCH RESULTS
------------------------
ANTILLES, WEDGE (M HUM) - RED SQUADRON*
CHEWBACCA (M WOOK) - UNATTACHED
LENSER, ARIA (F HUM) - GREEN SQUADRON
SKYWALKER, LUKE (M HUM) - RED SQUADRON
SOLO, HAN (M HUM) - UNATTACHED*
SU'IN TRIF (M BOTH) - YELLOW SQUADRON
ZYL, MISHIRI (F HUM) - GREEN SQUADRON
* DENOTES BOUNTY OUTSTANDING
------------------------
That answered some questions, at least. Without hesitation she eliminated the two women -- Aria Lenser and Mishiri Zyl. Triff Su'in was a Bothan and Chewbacca was a Wookie. Obviously Wedge Antilles and Han Solo didn't qualify, since both of them had bounties still outstanding.
And that left just one person.
With trembling hands she entered the next command.
> DISP SKYWALKER DOD
** CLASSIFIED **
"Denilee?"
She switched off the terminal and leapt across the tiny room to the table, flopping into the chair just as Nanny stepped into the room. The ship had stopped shaking, she realized belatedly. She had not noticed. "Yes, Nanny?"
Her pretend grandma smiled. "We're all right, sweetling. We're in hyperspace."
"Oh. Where are we going?"
"Somewhere safe." Nanny leaned over and wrapped her arms around Denilee. "You're very brave. Your father would be very proud of you."
"No, he wouldn't." Her voice sounded harsh. "Daddy hates me now. I'm going to be a Rebel and he hates all Rebels."
Nanny lifted her chin and stared down at her with clear brown eyes. "Listen to me. Your father does not hate you. It doesn't matter what happens to you or who you decide to be. Parents don't hate their children."
[Daddy's going to hate me soon. He's going to wish I was never born.] Denilee curled her hands into fists and leaned against Nanny, trying to pull her scattered thoughts together. [I'm not the Imperial Princess anymore. I'm a regular girl. As far as anybody knows, I'm normal and I have a normal daddy.]
"My name is Denilee Skywalker," she said softly.
Nanny froze. "What?"
"My name is Denilee Skywalker," she repeated. "My daddy's real name is Luke. He's the Rebel who destroyed the Death Star. And now he's a Sith." Her voice broke on the last word. Her eyes were stinging, but she did not feel like crying. She was angry. "I'll bet he killed all those pilots he flew with. He switched sides and... and..." She was not going to cry. The daughter of a turncoat and a traitor did not cry.
She could only whisper the question that screamed in her mind. "My daddy isn't a good man at all, is he?"
Nanny pressed her lips against Denilee's hair. "He was a good man once," she murmured. "Whenever I see him look at you and your brother, I think there must still be good in him somewhere. He loves you."
Denilee scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did, sweetling. From a certain point of view." She squeezed her eyes shut as if fighting her own tears. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, over and over. "I'm so sorry."
And she let Denilee cry into her shoulder.
***
Ironically enough, it was the Imp who came up with the newest brilliant idea.
"You should split up," Jagged Fel said quietly. "You're traveling in a big group now. It will be that much harder for Rage to find you if you take two routes."
He did not say 'Lord Rage', Melody noticed. She had not met many Imps who did not show some measure of respect.
Malinza smiled tightly. "Divide and conquer, boy?"
Fel gave her a startled look. "I'm trying to help you."
"And we should believe that why?"
"Corellian honor code," Han supplied. "We saved his life, so now he has to save ours." Fel frowned at him, clearly wondering how he knew that he was Corellian. Melody knew how he felt. Every word out of Han's mouth just raised more questions and set off more alarms in her head. It did not take a genius to see that Drunk and Smelly had once been someone very important in the Rebellion -- maybe as high-ranking as Mothma and Organa...
Suddenly another elusive piece of the puzzle fell into place. [Oh, gods. Organa Solo. She was his wife.] Melody felt sick. Like most other children on Ord Mantell, she knew all about the rogue Jedi's fantastic battles with Rage. Unlike most of the other children, she also knew how she had died. It had not been pretty. [This isn't just about the Rebellion,] she concluded. [It's personal.]
Her gaze fell on Ben, who was looking warily down a corridor, and she found herself tightening her grip on her blaster rifle. [Only that's not everything, is it? I think Han knows something important about you, kid. And I think he's afraid to tell you.]
"All right," Han said finally. "Fel and I will get Malinza to the Falcon. Melody, take Ben and go through the maintenence corridors. Those should be safer."
Ben blinked. "Then shouldn't the governor -- "
"Don't argue," Han snapped. He tilted his head to one side as if listening to something no one else could hear. "Just stay out of the way," he ordered tersely. "And don't do anything stupid, Ben."
Ben gave him a questioning look, no doubt wondering why he was the one being warned -- but Melody grabbed him by the arm before he could start protesting. She did not understand either, but she could always bully the truth out of Han when they were off the Executor and on the other side of the galaxy.
"Good luck!" Ben called as the two of them ran toward the maintenance corridors. Melody fought the urge to smack him. Useless kid.
***
Alai managed to keep her face still, although it was an effort. The amused smile was tugging insistantly at her lips and no matter how hard she tried, it was hard not to snicker. The officers looked so...perplexed. They could not understand how one former Rebel and a handful of youths were continually eluding them. To Alai it made perfect sense: the officers were just idiotic and would be painfully punished in due course.
At the moment it was just fun to watch.
"I'm sorry, my lord," one of the lower-ranking lieutenants stammered out. "I don't know what happened to the cameras. Someone covered their tracks very well."
Rage gave the man a baleful look. "Find them," he growled. "Find Solo."
"Y-Yes, my lord." The lieutenant turned and scurried away.
Alai raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were looking for the Force-sensitive one."
"Solo has been a minor nuisance for over ten years," Rage rumbled.
Alai did not bother to ask if he had been a major nuisance before that. It was obvious that the history between two men was long and complicated -- and more importantly, something that could be investigated later. "And?" she prompted.
"Something has caused him to emerge from hiding now. Something has happened." The Sith narrowed his eyes. "There is a disturbance in the Force."
That caught her by surprise. "I haven't felt anything."
"You think in the present. Look to the future, Emperor's Hand. There are new forces building what will be."
Alai swallowed hard, all mirth long gone. Rage was completely serious. He saw Solo and the children as a threat to the stability of the Empire and the galaxy as a whole.
And for all her efforts, she could not sense anything.
***
"This is beyond foolish, your highness. This...this is idiotic. You might as well hand yourself over to Palpatine. It would save him the trouble."
Lucéa looked up from a trunk full of molding dresses. Once a proper Nubian queen would never have been seen in public without suitably elaborate regalia. Now what few ornaments remained sat forgotten, saved only at Rabé's heated insistance. Lucéa would rather have seen them used to fuel a fire, but she had bowed to her guardian's wishes. And as always, she was glad she had taken the old handmaiden's advice.
Now to deal with her own attendant. "Are you quite finished?"
Saré Alonwen paced back and forth across the tiny room, tall and regal even in the harsh glare of the emergency lights. Like Lissé Torros and Erté Noche, her fellow handmaidens, she looked nothing like Lucéa. In the old days such a blatant disregard for tradition would have been shocking, but the time when a detailed selection process would have been feasible was long past. "Yes," she said finally. "I'm sorry, your highness."
"I'm not," Lissé growled. As petite and down-to-earth as Saré was willowy and exotic, the younger handmaiden nonetheless had a certain aura about her that suggested she was in fact the most dangerous of the three. Not to mention the most tactless. "I can't believe you're considering this. Next you'll be melting in that smuggler's ar -- OW!" She glared at pretty, brilliant Erté, who had 'accidently' stepped on her foot.
Lucéa sighed. Her handmaidens were intelligent, capable attendents and guardians, but they were also young -- fourteen in Lissé's case. Erté was fifteen and Saré, the eldest, was still only sixteen. "I've already decided," she said firmly. "I appreciate your concern, but my mind is made up. I'm going to Imperial Center."
"And we're going with you," Erté said. "Rabé can handle things here."
"You do realize what you're doing?" Saré asked softly. "You will be lucky if you are even able to address the Inner Council -- and you are endangering Anakin's life as well."
"He agreed to this," Lucéa pointed out. She dumped a pile of red and gold cloth on the floor. "Now help me find that blasted dress Rabé was talking about."
***
"Maintenance hatch... maintenance hatch..." Melody frowned at a likely looking door. "Is this a maintenance hatch?"
"It looks like a sewage duct," Ben said, smiling as she took a hasty step backwards.
"Wonderful. Fragging wonderful. I'm going to kill that krif-loving son of a slug." Melody ran over what few schematics she could remember in her head. Ghent had insisted that she know all about Imp ships, but she had not really paid attention, since she had never thought that she would have to escape from one. "Okay. The Falcon is that way. I think."
"You think?"
She glared at him. "Do you have a better idea?"
"Well...no." Ben sighed. "Lead the way, I guess."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"You earned it."
Melody grinned. "Hey, I think that was actual sarcasm. Congratulations, kid."
"I have a name."
"Sure you do." She paused deliberately, then grinned and added, "kid."
Ben opened his mouth -- no doubt to splutter incoherently for awhile -- but the retort died unspoken as they cautiously rounded a corner and found themselves facing a small door conveniently labeled "C-106 MAINTENANCE".
"That was easy," Melody muttered. She twisted the handle once and, with a sort of hissing sound, the door swung open.
And blaster bolts came flying out.
"Holy fragging mother-loving -- " Melody jumped backwards and fired back blindly. "Looks like the Imps had the same brilliant idea!"
Ben squeezed off a shot of his own -- missing by kilometers, naturally -- and gave her an incredulous look. "I hadn't noticed," he said faintly.
"Not now, kid." She grabbed him by a handful of tunic and began to drag him after her, firing behind her all the while. After a few moments the Imps came pouring out of the maintenance hatch after them. As much as Melody hated to admit it, she had to give some anonymous lieutenant credit; normally Imps did not display that much intelligence. Or, she added grimly, such good aim. She was sure one of those bolts had singed some hairs off of her head.
She felled one of their pursuers with a well-aimed shot -- much to Ben's obvious distress. "So much for that idea," she muttered. "Move it, kid."
"Where?" Ben asked, apparently oblivious to the shots sizzling past his head.
"That way." Melody grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, pushing him off to the right.
The Imps hurried after them, firing all the while.
***
Denilee did not know when she drifted off to sleep. All she knew was that when she awoke, she was alone in a tiny room, curled up on a cot. Someone had covered her with a thermal blanket. It was probably from the emergency kit, she decided; it smelled like the creams and medicines that it had been tucked up against. She pulled it up to her chin and flopped back against the thin pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
["My name is Denilee Skywalker."]
That was who she was now. A little girl with a surname no one seemed to remember. She was no longer the Imperial Princess, no longer the heiress of the Empire or the rebellious daughter of a Sith Lord and his consort.
"All right," she said out loud, just like Mikel did when he was trying to puzzle out a problem. She missed her brother so much that it made her want to cry just thinking about him. "I'm Denilee Skywalker," she said firmly, just to distract herself from the strange empty spot where Mikel's presence usually belonged. "My daddy's name is Luke and my mommy's name is..." She stopped for a moment. Technically her mommy's name was Lady Roganda Ismaren, but she had never felt close to her and had never really trusted her. Certainly she had never loved her. "I don't know who my mommy is yet," she concluded. "Nanny is my grandma and Bellar is my friend, and we're on a big adventure. When we're all done we'll be able to rescue my brother and my other friends from Imperial Center and the Emperor will have to run and hide from us." That sounded like as good a beginning as any. Every story needed a beginning.
She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like a big cape and half climbed, half rolled out of the cot. Five steps took her across the room to the door. After a moment's study she pressed one of the buttons on the control panel and stood back as the door swooshed open.
Nanny and Bellar were sitting at the small table she had seen earlier. They were both leaning over several flimsies and talking in hushed voices. It looked like they were studying star charts and trying to find something, but what that something might have been Denilee could not have guessed. Nanny's silver hair had been pulled back into a sort of double bun that was somehow held in place by a band of burgundy cloth. She had changed into a simple skirt and blouse, complete with a thick shawl draped around her shoulders. She looked just like a grandma ought to.
Denilee padded over and tugged at Nanny's shawl. "Where are we going?"
"I don't know yet, sweetling." Nanny lifted Denilee up onto her lap. Bellar flashed her a quick, tired smile, which she returned as best she could.
She studied the star charts for a moment. She did not recognize many of them, but then again, her tutors had not seen fit to teach her about stellar cartography or anything interesting like that. "Can't we just go to one of the Outer Rim worlds?"
"It's not as simple as that," Nanny explained. "We can't just hand out Imperial credits out there -- not unless we want the Emperor to find us right away."
"We need money," Bellar finished bluntly.
Denilee tilted her head to one side. "Like jewels or something?"
Bellar nodded. "Or something."
She dug into her pocket and produced the Jewel of Zenda, tossing it on top of the flimsies. "What about that?"
Nanny and Bellar both looked at the glittering gem as if it might sprout legs and run around the table. "You took that?" Nanny said finally.
"I knew you liked it." Denilee stared down at her hands. "I just didn't want it vaporized."
Bellar fingered the jewel for a moment, his eyes dark and narrowed. "Alis, is this what I think it is?"
"A bodyguard should have better things to do than study treasuries." Nanny said as she snatched the jewel off the table and pocketed it. But she did not answer Bellar's question.
Now Bellar's eyes were almost slits. "The Nubians could use that," he said quietly. "You have no right to take it. I've heard the smugglers' tales. They need weapons and food."
"And they will have them," Nanny answered. There was something in her voice that was harder than duracrete. "But Denilee is -- she must be -- my first priority. You know that."
Denilee balled her hands into fists. "I'm sitting right here, you know. What's so special about me anyway?"
Nanny sighed. She looked very old and very tired. "You are a Skywalker," she began. Bellar threw her a startled look, but she just shook her head. "She knows. She can put two and two together." When the Hapan just sat back, a frown furrowing his brow, Nanny turned her attention back to Denilee. "You are a Skywalker," she repeated, "but more importantly, you are a female Skywalker. Until you or your brother has a daughter, you are the only person who in the galaxy who can claim that."
"I already know I'm a girl," Denilee said as patiently as she could. "Why's that so important. The Emperor treats boys better anyway."
"I know, sweetling." Nanny paused for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. "Do you know what an blood oath is?"
Denilee nodded. "They're like promises, only they only work for family."
"Almost. You need to have a strong connection to the Force for a blood oath to work. It's more like a prophecy than a promise, actually. If it's strong enough, it will come true."
That made sense. Well, not really, but Denilee understood most of what Nanny was saying. "So what does this have to do with me?"
"Because of something your grandmother did a long time ago."
Now Bellar sat up straight. "Wait a minute. You didn't tell me -- "
Nanny silenced him with a glance. "Your grandmother was a senator named Padmé Naberrie," she said softly. It almost seemed that she was watching some event that had happened a long time ago. "She helped other senators create the Rebel Alliance and she managed to hide your father and his sister from the Emperor."
For a moment Denilee almost opened her mouth to let her questions spill out, but she could see that Nanny was not done yet. "What happened to her?" she whispered.
"She and a few of her attendants returned to their homeworld of Naboo. She was sure that Emperor would come and punish her people for their defiance." Nanny closed her eyes in silent pain. "She was right."
Denilee tried to remember any mention of a place called Naboo on the star maps or in her history texts. She could find nothing. "Did they destroy the planet?"
"Almost," Nanny said softly. "Most of the people were killed. A few went into hiding. And many were captured, to be executed later on live Holonet. Your grandmother was one of those people. But she didn't go quietly. She and her attendants were brought before the Emperor in one of Naboo's few remaining palaces. When he demanded that she surrender her homeworld and return to Imperial Center to denounce the Rebellion, she spat in his face. Then she spoke the blood oath."
Nanny stared past Denilee, past the bulkheads, past even the stars themselves. She was watching something Denilee could hardly imagine -- something she had surely lived through. "'Do you fear the Chosen One, your highness?'" she whispered, quoting the words from memory. "'Better you should fear me. So help me, it will be my people who throw off your yoke. And it will be a daughter of my blood who defeats you.'
"The Emperor was furious. He could feel that somehow your grandmother, who had only the faintest connection to the Force, had spoken a blood oath. He ordered her dragged from his presence. A few chronos later, when she and her attendants were being led to a shuttle, they attempted to escape. Two of the attendants escaped. The rest died with your grandmother."
There was complete silence. Even Bellar sat transfixed. Denilee tried to imagine her real grandmother standing so defiant and proud, dying with a blaster in her hand, determined to fight back even when all hope seemed lost. She could barely grasp what it must have been like. Where had her grandfather been? Why had he not helped? And since when did her daddy have a sister?
She had no answers to those questions. But at least she understood something now. "Nanny...you were one of the attendants, weren't you?"
Nanny nodded. "My name is -- was -- Sabé Ayareth."
Denilee considered for a moment. "I like Nanny better," she said finally, looking up hopefully at her pretend grandma. But Nanny did not seem to hear her. She just stared down at the star charts as if they contained the answers to all the questions in the world.
After a moment Bellar stood up and lifted Denilee off of Nanny's lap. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's go take a look at the cockpit."
Denilee allowed herself to be pulled after him. She knew that sometimes people needed alone time. Even brave, strong people like Nanny.
But she could not shake the feeling that her pretend grandma had left something out of her story.
***
[That's it,] Melody told herself furiously. [I don't care if Han is the Maker himself. I'm going to tell him to take his maintenance corridors and ram them up his -- ]
"Look out!" Ben called, pulling her to one side a fraction of a second before a blaster bolt sizzled past her. She flashed him a quick grin, which he wearily returned. He was not in bad shape for a farmboy, but this sort of thing would take its toll on a hoverball champion. Melody's chest was starting to hurt. On the plus side, at least the Imps were feeling the same effects, especially with their heavy armor. She could already hear fewer pursuers behind them.
She should have known their luck -- such as it was -- was too good to last.
They rounded a corner and found themselves face to face with something almost as terrifying as a hungry space slug: a set of heavy-duty blast doors, sealing them off from freedom. Melody cursed softly; it would take heavy artillery to make a dent in that thing. Blaster rifles would be next to useless.
Ben gulped. "Looks like we took a wrong turn."
"Thanks," Melody said snidely. "I hadn't noticed." She kicked the blast door, earning herself a stubbed toe. "Frag! Now what?"
"We try to get it open?"
Melody sighed. "I know that, kid. Let's try this one: how do we get it open before that squad finds us and puts smoking holes in our chests?"
Ben turned an interesting shade of green. "I thought they wanted us alive."
"Not now, they don't. Trust me on this one." She fingered her blaster rifle, her mind racing. If there was one thing she had learned on Ord Mantell, it was that there was a way out of every situation. She just had to find it. Fast.
"Help me get the panel off," Ben said suddenly.
Melody gaped at him. "What?"
"Help me get the panel off," Ben repeated impatiently. He was tugging at the flat metal cover over the controls. "If I can get into the wiring, maybe I can open the blast doors."
"You want to hardwire that thing?" Melody demanded. "You don't have time for that!" But even as she berated him, she gripped the edge of the panel and, with Ben's help, wrenched it off of the wall. The wires and circuits underneath flickered fitfully in the faint glow of their recess's emergency lights.
Ben reached inside the tangled mess and began fiddling, muttering to himself as he worked. Melody felt like smacking herself upside the head. Of course. The kid had kept saying he was a mechanic, not a Rebel. Being a mechanic on Tatooine meant keeping aging machines working long after the rest of the galaxy had tossed them in the trash compactors. There were no such things as replacement parts. It was more than just a matter of convenience. Keeping vaporators working was a matter of life and death.
Melody knew all this, and yet she still found herself staring as Ben manuevered his way around the complex system with an ease that the best mechanic on Ord Mantell would have envied. It was almost as if he was following a diagram, only it was in his head instead of on a flimsy in front of him...
And then the truth hit her.
Ben was using the Force.
Not consciously. She was sure of that much. It must have been instinctive. Melody knew that the kid was probably drawing Rage right to them, but what choice was there? It was either stay and die, or walk right into the Sith's clutches.
She had used people before. She was not above exploiting the oblivious for her own sake. But this just felt...wrong. The idea of leaving Ben behind was repulsive. She needed to protect him, because how was the poor, innocent fool going to protect himself?
Only who would protect her?
She balanced on a knife's edge for a heartbeat and an eternity. And then, slowly and deliberately, she allowed herself to fall to one side. She chose.
Then there was the sound of booted feet behind them. Even as she whirled, blaster at ready, Ben let out a jubilant whoop and the doors swished open.
And began to close again.
"Frag!" Melody squeezed off a shot. Someone down the corridor let out a scream. Maybe she had taken off his arm or something. "Move it, kid! Get your rear to th -- HEY!"
Ben grabbed her roughly and shoved her through. Maybe he planned on being a self-sacrificing fool, but she was not going to let him get away with it. She kept her grip on her hand as the doors continued to close. He could fit through. All he had to do was squeeze.
"Come on, kid!" Was he deaf? "Get out of there! Don't be a hero!"
"You have to get to Hal." He set his jaw and tried to tug free.
"This isn't funny, Ben!" The doors continued to close. There was no way for Ben to fit through now, but she would never admit that. "Open the doors again! Hurry!"
"Go! Go!" Ben twisted free of her grip. His white face was the last thing she saw before the doors slammed closed.
"BEN!" Melody pounded on the door, but it refused to budge. She should have been back there. Not Ben. He did not know how the galaxy worked. This was not the stories. When you sacrificed yourself, there was no legion of heroic spirits or shining angels there to help you. You died alone.
She forced herself to step back from the door. Ben had made a choice. She could not leave him, but maybe she could use the time he had bought her. She could have the others take Hal and escape on the Falcon, and then she and Calrissian could come back and rescue Ben. It would work. It had to.
Her eyes were stinging when she turned away. A deeply buried part of her realized that for the first time since she could remember, she was about to cry.
***
[Okay,] Ben thought desperately. [Think. You got yourself into this. Now you just have to get yourself out.] The complete lack of logic in that thought almost made him laugh. [Calm down,] he ordered himself firmly. [Think rationally. How would Sasha have handled this?]
[Forget that.]
He pressed his back against the stubborn doors and readied his blaster rifle. [Jessa thinks you can use the Force. There has to be a way out of this. Just use the Force. Push the Imps or something like that.]
For a moment another voice seemed to speak to him, soft and faint as if it had travelled across a great distance. No. Not so near Rage.
But then the Imps were rounding the corner and there was no more time. Ben lashed out blindly, acting more on mind-numbing terror than any rational plan. The stormtroopers began to stumble backwards as if shoved by an invisible hand. One or two of them stopped altogther, clutching their weapons fearfully. Ben set his jaw and made himself stand upright. He did not know what he was doing, but he knew that maybe it would keep him alive for a few more moments. That was all that mattered.
Then the glow panels above his head shuddered and shattered. The world was plunged into darkness.
***
Darth Rage looked up as the disturbance rippled through the Force. From somewhere above him, not far from the shuttle decks. It was a child's actions, untrained and scared, yet powerful enough to act as a beacon.
"I have you now," he whispered
***
Hal stopped so suddenly that Jessa almost ran into him. "What is it?" she asked as Lumpy waved for the newly rescued droids to be silent. "What's going on?"
The smuggler looked at her with wide, frightened eyes. "He found him."
Somehow he did not have to elaborate. Jessa knew what he meant. Rage had found Ben.
She did not answer him. Instead she pushed past him and started down the corridor at a dead run. Maybe the others kept up with her. Maybe they did not. She could not have cared less.
This was all her fault.
***
Solo...
Han stopped walking. "What?" he demanded, heedless of the strange looks Jagged and Malinza gave him.
He has been found.
***
"Impressive, boy."
Ben's blood turned to ice.
The stormtroopers parted quickly, as if fearful of touching the black-cloaked evil in their midst. Ben did not see them. He had eyes only for the shadowy, backlit monstrosity descending on him. This time there was no escape. He was trapped and alone.
He raised his blaster rifle. "Don't come any closer!"
Darth Rage stopped walking, but there was no anxiety in his face. On the contrary; a faint smile played across his scarred features. "Or what?" he said mockingly. "You'll shoot me?"
"I mean it!" Ben tightened his grip so his hands would stop shaking. Yet even as he shouted those words, he knew that he could not pull the trigger. He had never killed anyone. The idea of actually shooting someone, even a Sith, was too horrible to contemplate.
Rage seemed to realize this as well. "We both know this is ridiculous. Put the weapon down. Now."
His voice was so commanding that Ben started to obey automatically. Then he shook his head furiously and clutched the blaster rifle.
"Put the weapon down," Rage repeated a little more forcefully.
Ben glared at him. "I'm not stupid!"
For a moment the Sith's eyes narrowed. Ben felt like he had failed some sort of test -- or maybe passed one. He was not sure which was worse. "Indeed you're not," Rage rumbled. He motioned to the stormtroopers. "Leave us."
[What's he doing?!] Ben risked a glance at the hotwired controls. There was no way he could get the door open again, not without time he did not have. He knew better than to try charging Rage, and he was pretty sure that negotiating was not an option. On the other hand, what else was he supposed to do?
"I can explain," he began.
"Explain what? Why you have invaded an Imperial vessel? Why you are using forbidden powers?"
The part of Ben that had been pushed around and chased and generally stepped on one too many times took over. He narrowed his eyes. "How about you explain something?" he demanded. "Tell my why my family was murdered!"A part of him recoiled in complete horror at what he was saying, but somehow Ben was beyond fear. The words had a life of their own. "How about you tell me why my powers are so horrible, but yours are okay? Tell me what's fair about that!"
Rage was silent for a long moment. Then he unhooked something from his belt and depressed a button. A beam of red light sprang into life, half-illuminating the darkness. Ben shrank back into the shadows, but his eyes never left the blade.
"Do you know what this is?" Rage asked.
"It's a lightsaber."
"It is a weapon. Anyone can use it, but only those strong in the Force can use it correctly."
Ben pushed the memory of Jessa's practice session to the furthest corners of his mind. "I don't want to use the Force," he said. "I want to go back to go back to Tatooine and pretend this never happened." Even as he said that, he knew that it was not true. Not unless he could convince Jessa and the others to come back with him.
Somehow Rage saw that. "You delude yourself, boy."
"So what?" Ben spat. "You're just going to kill me anyway."
Rage smiled cruelly. "As you command, Rebel."
He swung his blade.
Ben yelped and thrust his blaster rifle up in a last-ditch effort to block to blow. The red blade passed through the weapon like a spirit passing through stone, and it was all he could do to roll away before his head was separated from his shoulders. Reacting on pure instinct, he scrambled to hands and knees and fumbled for some weapon, any weapon. But of course there was none to be found. He was completely defenseless. He was going to die.
Some tiny part of him shouted out, refusing to be silenced. Don't go quietly, it said. Buy time. If you can't be a hero, at least make your life worth something. Die on your feet. You failed Shay. Give Jessa a chance.
Let her live.
He pushed himself up on unsteady legs, supporting himself against the cold bulkhead. His heart hammered against his ribs and his breath came in shallow gasps, but his hands were curled into white-knuckled fists. Somehow he was going to fight back, even if it meant spending his last moments in silent defiance.
Darth Rage raised his saber. Ben lifted his head, letting the red light of the saber flood over his features, and locked his gaze with those inhuman, soulless eyes.
And then something utterly foreign flickered across the Sith's face.
Recognition.
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