Heir to the Jedi

by Kevin Hearne

  “Ugh, Luke, what is that all over you? Did you slip and fall into—”

  “Let’s not talk about it, okay? If we don’t say it out loud then maybe I can forget about it in a few thousand years.”

  “Hey, everybody has accidents.” She was fighting hard to stifle a smile but appeared to be losing the battle. I’m sure I was blushing: I felt the heat in my face.

  Nakari kicked the access door shut and we crammed into an enclosed speeder with a dark-tinted cockpit. Artoo and Drusil were already waiting inside and I shoved the repulsors to maximum thrust, heading for a parking structure at the edge of the district. Nakari and Drusil exchanged equations courteously and Drusil thanked us for the continuing rescue attempt.

  “I do hope to reiterate my gratitude after a successful escape,” she added, her words emphasizing that we still had a long way to go.

  We had another rented speeder waiting in the parking structure and we took the time to change clothes completely before getting out into the view of security cams. We had a cowled hood for Drusil to wear so that her face would be completely hidden, and Artoo would attempt to jam local transmissions for the few minutes we were inside the garage, since we could do little to disguise him. When we had planned the operation the day before, I’d thought this part was an excess of caution and sacrificed speed for skullduggery, but Nakari insisted; she was convinced the ISB would be scouring all security feeds in search of us, and if they picked us up before we got offplanet we’d be hard-pressed to fight off the reinforcements they could summon.

  Artoo had programmed a course into the speeder’s rudimentary navigation computer that would take it out of the garage and fly a random pattern in the Lodos district. It was a ruse that wouldn’t hold up forever, but like everything else we did, it was designed to give us a bit more time—we just needed enough to jump out of the system. Let them go ahead and piece everything together, Nakari said, just as long as they did so too late to stop us.

  While Artoo’s jamming program operated, we clambered into another speeder, also with an opaque cockpit, and drove that out of Lodos while our decoy drove deeper into it. We saw local and Imperial law enforcement vehicles dart overhead along vectors that would place them in the neighborhood of the café, and Nakari looked faintly smug.

  “Any predictions on the probability of them catching up with us, Drusil?” I asked.

  “I don’t have enough data to perform the calculations,” she replied. “It would be an equation filled entirely with variables and few real numbers at this point, resulting in little more than a guess.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “Perhaps you could tell me if you have solid proof that my family is safe, or if you were speaking of probabilities?” she asked.

  “Probabilities,” I admitted. “We let the Alliance know that we would be attempting to snatch you today, so a separate team should be extracting your family now.” I hoped Major Derlin had succeeded, or we would have an extremely unhappy Givin on our hands.

  “Or they may have already done so,” Nakari said. “We won’t know until we get to Omereth, unfortunately.”

  “Why Omereth, if I may ask?” I said to Drusil.

  “It is insignificant and of little interest to either the Empire or the Alliance. Negligible infrastructure, no sentient life-forms, and poor mineral prospects have condemned the planet to a vacation destination for adventurers. It cannot support a large population or indeed many modern conveniences without significant offworld imports. No one would suspect a cryptographer would live someplace so cut off from active networks of trade and military staging areas. It is among the least probable places to find me—I have done the math, I assure you.”

  Smirking, I said, “I don’t doubt it. We’ll talk more once we get out of the system.”

  I guided the speeder to a soft landing on our docking platform a short distance from the Desert Jewel. As with the previous speeder, we sent it flying away on a preprogrammed course as soon as we disembarked. There was a chance this one wouldn’t be found right away, so Artoo had programmed it to land safely before it ran out of fuel.

  “I sure hope the Imperials haven’t begun to check outbound ships,” Nakari said as the ramp descended and we boarded the craft.

  “How many of my security team survived?” Drusil asked. “Two were slain next to me. Three in the sewer. That leaves three more, unless you killed them later?”

  “No, that’s right,” Nakari confirmed. “Three survived and are no doubt coordinating the attempt to reacquire us.”

  Artoo rolled into the starboard quarters to hook up with the Jewel’s nav computer. He already knew our first jump but needed to fine-tune calculations for our earliest possible exit. I headed straight for the cockpit to get the Jewel fired up while Nakari and Drusil continued to talk in the corridor. The Givin was listing gaps in Imperial knowledge—primarily due to taking out the security droid—that all added up to time.

  “They know you and your astromech droid were involved but may not have seen Luke until he emerged from the sewer behind me. I assume by now they have discovered that site by homing in on comm units of the three slain ISB agents. They will be scouring the city and looking for that first speeder for sure. The question is not whether they’d be willing to activate their orbital resources and anger the civilian population for the chance to prevent our escape; the question is how long they’ll delay before giving that order.”

  Trying to lock down traffic here would be a tall order, since Denon rested at the intersection of two of the galaxy’s most well-traveled hyperspace lanes.

  “They might not realize we’re with the Alliance,” I called back as I checked the systems and was gratified by a row of green lights. “We could be mercenaries working for the Hutts or something.”

  “That is true, but it will probably have no bearing on their decision making. They wish me to remain under their control and will exert themselves to ensure that happens.”

  “Understood, but if they think we’re with the Hutts, they might waste time searching for us in the criminal underworld here.” Perhaps I was overthinking it; I could see how pondering the possibilities might slow down command decisions. Up to now, I had been given little freedom to plan and execute operations on my own. Mostly I flew where the Alliance told me to fly and shot what they told me to shoot. There’s an undeniable pleasure in ruining the Empire’s day with blasters, but planning and anticipating enemy moves had a different appeal that I was beginning to appreciate. I released the brakes and said, “Better strap in somewhere. We’re taking off, and this could be an exciting trip.”

  Nakari showed Drusil into the starboard living quarters and then joined me in the cockpit, taking the copilot’s seat and flipping on an intercom channel to the quarters so that both Artoo and Drusil could hear us.

  The Desert Jewel lifted smoothly from her berth and sliced through the atmosphere without any Imperial pursuit. Once I set the course, I asked Artoo to monitor security channels as a subroutine while maintaining our hyperspace jump as his top priority. We were going to jump Coreward along the Hydian Way to Exodeen, and from there we would take a smaller hyperspace lane called the Nanth’ri Trade Route that would eventually offer several different ways to reach Omereth.

  The sky burned away and stars replaced it as we left Denon’s atmosphere with no trouble. Commenting on it drew a wry chuckle from Drusil.

  “You should hear of trouble soon enough,” she said. “The probability is almost certain.”

  Artoo blurted an alarm and a stream of characters appeared on our heads-up holodisplay, translating his words: EMPIRE HAS ORDERED A SYSTEMWIDE BLOCKADE TO SEIZE REBEL SPIES. INTERDICTOR CRUISERS EN ROUTE. ALL SHIPS THAT DEPART PRIOR TO IMPERIAL INSPECTION WILL BE NOTED.

  Drusil’s prescience made me want to spend more time studying math. “Let them note it! Do you have the course ready? Jump if you do.”

  JUMPING.

  I had hoped we would get out of the system without being tagged for pu
rsuit, but that plan was slagged now. We had to hope that our ship would move faster than any dragnet the Empire put together.

  THE FIRST THING I DID while in hyperspace was visit the bathroom to wash off my hand and take a quick shower to sluice away the filth of Denon’s tunnels—it was a public service as much as a personal wish to be clean, because I still reeked even after shedding the filth-encrusted layer of clothes outside the sewer. I took some strong antibacterials as a precaution. My cuts would scab over and heal soon enough, but they’d probably sting for a while.

  Scoured, bandaged, and finally presentable, I rejoined Nakari in the cockpit with a few minutes to spare before entering the Exodeen system. She smiled as she took in my fresh clothes and damp hair.

  “Bet that feels better,” she said.

  “Unbelievably so.”

  “I’ll do the same after the next jump.”

  “Intercom still on?” I asked as I strapped into the pilot’s seat. “Can Drusil hear me?”

  “I hear you,” Drusil’s voice said.

  “Great. I wanted to ask you why the Empire and Alliance are so interested in you specifically as a cryptographer. What sets you apart from others?”

  “What interests the Alliance is that I have written some slicing programs that will easily cut through low-level routine Imperial encryption, which I will hand over as soon as I’m reunited with my family. I can also slice through some of the higher-level codes when supplied with sufficient time.”

  “Begging your pardon, but how do we know that, exactly?”

  “Did not the Kupohans assure you of my capabilities?”

  “They assured the decision makers in the Alliance, and they believed the Kupohans well enough to send us to get you. But it’s a fact that the Alliance has yet to see any proof that you can do all that you claim. It isn’t that I doubt you; it’s just that I prefer to confirm your abilities.”

  “What would you suggest?”

  The stars snapped into focus as we exited hyperspace into the Exodeen system. Our scanners immediately detected the presence of several Imperial ships, including a heavy cruiser and a Star Destroyer. Their images were a few minutes old, owing to the speed of light, and they wouldn’t see us for a few minutes yet.

  “Calculate the jump for Nanth’ri, Artoo!” I said, and after he chirped acknowledgment, I added to Drusil, “Perhaps you can pick up some Imperial communication here and decrypt it for us while we wait?”

  “If it’s low-level communication, certainly. If you will scan the system for some of their communications while I set up my hardware, we will see what can be accomplished.”

  “Your hardware is in that sack you brought with you?”

  “Yes. A datapad I assembled myself with associated couplers for interfacing with most alien dataports. It is … unique.” A note of unmistakable pride crept into the Givin’s voice, which still sounded as if it were being muffled by a mouthful of something chewy.

  Nakari’s right hand shot forward and switched off the intercom. Her eyebrows tracked upward on her face as she waggled her head, muttering, “Well, aren’t we special?”

  I laughed. “We really should find something for her as a test. It’d be good to know we’re not getting conned here.”

  Nakari’s fingers flipped a couple more switches and turned a knob. After a few seconds of white noise, a stream of unintelligible syllables filled the cockpit and she reestablished the intercom link with the starboard living quarters so that Drusil could hear it.

  “Ah! Just a moment,” Drusil said. “Calibrating … feed established. Decryption running.” The babble paused for perhaps thirty seconds before starting up again in a short burst, most likely a standard receipt of the prior transmission. Drusil’s voice spoke into the silence. “Success! The Empire has transmitted orders through their HoloNet originating from Denon. We missed the beginning of the transmission, so I must begin reading in midsentence:… small custom ship, inbound from Denon, search for two humans, one Givin, one droid, highest priority, report sighting immediately to ISB, bounty offered for capture, do not destroy. And then what follows is simply an acknowledgment.”

  “Thanks, Drusil,” Nakari said. “Please hold a moment.” She flicked off the intercom so that she could talk to me privately. “You know she could have just made that up, right?”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s going to be difficult to test. We would have to keep going toward the planet, let the Imperials spot us, and then see if they chase us.”

  “We’d get away easily,” Nakari pointed out, “but then they would have a sighting to report and a good idea of where we’re headed. Right now they’ve broadcast that everywhere and don’t have any idea where to concentrate their forces. If we give them a clue we could run into a whole lot of trouble ahead. Is it worth it to stick around here just to confirm that she can decrypt standard orders?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “They’re going to know we were here soon because we can’t conceal the reflected light of our entry, but if we leave now we can prevent them from getting a deep scan and confirming three life-forms aboard—assuming that her decryption is true and they’re looking for us. And note that if it is true, the Empire knows about your specific involvement after you got out of the sewer. They’ve definitely seen security footage from somewhere.”

  “Agreed. I don’t like the idea of sticking around anywhere until we drop her off at Omereth. I’m curious to know if she’s for real, but it’s really not our job to determine if she’s telling the truth or not. We’re just a lightly armed taxi service now.”

  Nakari winced. “Can we call it a heavily armed taxi service? I like the sound of that better.”

  I shrugged. “Sure.”

  “No argument, huh? That’s nice.” She turned the intercom back on.

  “Artoo, can we jump?” I asked. “Let’s go if you’re ready.”

  JUMPING, came the reply, and once we were safely in hyperspace Nakari unbuckled and rose from her seat, imitating her father as she headed aft. “Pilot! Refreshment is in order! Fly responsibly in my absence!” She trailed a finger along my shoulder as she passed by, and I couldn’t suppress the grin her touch inspired. I liked her and was starting to think maybe she liked me back.

  Nothing I could do about it now, however. Flirting on a mission is one of the best ways to ensure mission failure—and most likely romantic failure. I’d seen Han Solo get in trouble too many times while he was trying to charm Leia to doubt it, and he hadn’t exactly won her good graces yet.

  We had five planets to skip over before we got to Nanth’ri and decided which way to go from there. We could swing to the galactic north, which had the benefit of being a shorter transit route to Omereth but the drawback of more Imperial worlds, or dart south for a short distance and then east again, traversing Hutt Space and avoiding the Empire while risking who knew what in the seedy side of the galaxy. One thing was more likely near Hutt Space: bounty hunters. If the Empire had rebroadcast that message about a bounty on our heads on unencrypted channels, we’d have all sorts of beings on the lookout for us who didn’t need to abide by Imperial protocols and procedures. They also didn’t need to do all the other things Empire forces needed to do—patrol vast areas of space and guard against the Alliance, police smugglers, and so on. Bounty hunters could devote 100 percent of their attention to finding us. Thinking about that made me nervous, but I’d rather face a single bounty hunter’s ship than the heavy firepower the Imperial fleet could bring to bear. Turning south was probably a better decision.

  “Artoo, when we get to Nanth’ri, begin calculating a jump that will take us through Hutt Space. If you can do a jump all the way across it without stopping, that would probably be best.”

  The droid’s agreement showed up on my holoscreen as Drusil’s voice came through the intercom. “Would you like my assistance in calculating these jumps? It should not be terribly taxing—indeed, I would find it refreshing.”

  I searched for a diplom
atic way to say no. If, by some awful chance, Drusil was in truth an Imperial spy and this was all an elaborate sting, then the coordinates she fed us might lead directly to an Imperial fleet position. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to trust the ship’s navigation to calculations done in someone’s head, anyway. What if she forgot to carry the one or something like that?

  “Thanks, Drusil, but Artoo’s already wired in and familiar with the ship specs, so I’d like to have him take lead. Perhaps you could check his work, though?” I winced, hoping she would not take my reply as a slight on her abilities.

  “That would be fine,” she said, and then a silence settled over the cockpit. Presumably both Artoo and Drusil were lost in pure math and had nothing more to say. With Nakari gone for a while, I had nothing to do except remain in the pilot’s seat in case something went wrong.

  It was an ideal opportunity to meditate and see if I could strengthen my bond with the Force. When I’d first felt the Force on the Millennium Falcon, it had been the barest tickle of a presence in my consciousness and in the air around me that wasn’t attributable to my five senses. Since then I had reached out to the Force on numerous occasions, and each time it grew marginally easier to make that contact and feel the Force swirl and coalesce around me, a not-quite-tangible but very real sensation, sort of like exercising and discovering over time that the same routine requires less effort because your strength and endurance have increased.

  I didn’t have any goal in mind other than increasing my awareness of the Force; there were no vegetables or other objects to nudge around in the cockpit, anyway, and I figured a greater grasp of the Force would help me perform such tasks more quickly later on, and perhaps allow me to move larger objects, or accomplish any number of other Jedi exercises.