by Martha Wells
The remaining Ishori muttered something in its own language. Anakaret’s expression was so cynical that it rivaled Han at his worst. Leia wasn’t surprised. At least now they had the threat out in the open. On the other hand, Metara was rigid with anger.
“Viest, this wasn’t our deal. We had an agreement. You promised us—”
Viest turned and strode away to the lift tube, her entourage following. Furious, Metara started after her, but Leia caught her arm and pulled her back. “There’s no point,” she said. “She’s right, we’ll talk later.” In one way she was glad Viest had tried to kill them and threatened the ship, that their situation here was now clear, that there was no reason to pin their hopes on further negotiation.
It meant Leia could stop playing nice with pirates and slavers, and start playing for real.
As Viest and her followers cleared out, the Aqualish arrived, with guard backup, to shepherd Leia and Metara back to the Aegis. “See, I told you,” the Aqualish said.
“You did,” Leia replied. “I should have listened to you.”
Metara gave her an odd look, but the Aqualish just grunted and led them away.
Han hid, waiting until Leia, the Twi’lek, and the pirates had gone back to the upper part of the chamber. Then he followed, using the beamdrills, tunnel borers, and other equipment moored to the cavern wall for cover. He found a spot where he could see everyone gathered on the ledge and watch the confrontation, though he was too far away to hear what they were saying.
He wasn’t sure what had happened up there, but the way the crushers were tethered in a big circle below what was obviously a spectators’ gallery on the balcony gave him a few ideas, and the droid’s attack clearly hadn’t been an accident. Whatever it was, somebody hadn’t survived it. An amphibian sentient lay limp on the ledge, another huddled over him.
It could have been an elaborately staged execution, but in that case he was pretty sure Leia and the Twi’lek would have taken the opportunity to bolt with him. And people didn’t usually stand around after failed executions arguing about the process, which was what it looked like they were doing here.
He watched the conversation until everyone started to leave. People came out to help the amphibian carry his dead friend away, and Leia and Metara and the others walked to the end of the ledge and disappeared into a couple of lift tubes. There were still pirates milling about on the ledge; others zoomed around the arena on repulsor pads, powered down the crushers, and collected debris from the dead droid, most of which they just pushed off to the sides of the cavern with the rest of the abandoned equipment. After a while, Han reluctantly conceded that he wasn’t going to have a chance to follow Leia. Better to get back to the Aegis and hope that was where she was being taken.
If she wasn’t … He would just have to figure something out.
When Degoren brought his light corvette out of hyperspace at the rendezvous coordinates, the Darsumae had already arrived.
The Darsumae was the armed freighter he used as a decoy for capturing pirates and smugglers, and he intended to transfer his command there. The rebel ship Gamble was damaged and had undoubtedly taken refuge at a commercial port or station somewhere in this area of the sector. The light corvette, with its ostensible duty as a customs ship, couldn’t approach a port without making every merchant ship in dock wary and panicking all the smugglers. The rebels would be warned and have time to flee. The Darsumae could approach as just another freighter, and would go unnoticed until it was time to spring the trap.
He stood up from his command chair and started down the length of the ship to the stern shuttle bay, his second in command, Sorvir, following him. Degoren waited until they were alone in a corridor before he said, “It’s disturbing that we’ve had no further contact from the deep cover agent.”
“Yes, sir.” Sorvir sounded grim. “The rebels may have realized that there’s a leak in their communications.”
“If they haven’t realized it, they’re fools.” Degoren wished they were fools. It was hard to see the big picture from a post in the Mid Rim, but from what he could tell, the rebels were becoming better organized, even as the Empire devoted more and more resources to pursuing them. “We can’t sit around waiting on this agent’s convenience. Any word from our local informants?” Degoren had independent agents at several of the local ports, though they were mostly used for tracking smugglers.
“Not yet, sir.”
Degoren grimaced. “If they want to remain employed, and alive, they need to produce results.” But he knew threats were no real incentive. “Contact them again. Let them know whoever finds evidence of the rebels will be well rewarded. Enough to pay all their debts and buy their way out of this miserable sector.”
“Yes, sir.” Sorvir added, reluctantly, “There’s always the chance that the rebels were picked up by pirates.”
Degoren swore under his breath. He had already considered that possibility and dreaded it. “If they have, then we’ll be lucky if there’s anything left of them to interrogate.” It would be even worse if that scheming spider Viest got her hands on them.
CHAPTER NINE
THE MILLENNIUM FALCON REACHED Arnot Station in record time.
The station regulations automatically downloaded to the comm system when they docked hadn’t mentioned anything about no weapons, so Luke wore his belt with holstered blaster and his lightsaber, and Chewbacca carried his bowcaster.
As the Falcon’s hatch slid open, the first thing to hit Luke was the smell. The air was filled with the scents of strange spices, stale air, ozone, and a dozen other things he couldn’t identify. “I had better stay here and help Artoo guard the ship, Master Luke,” C-3PO said. The protocol droid’s tone managed to convey pretty clearly that he didn’t want anything to do with a run-down trading station deep in pirate territory.
“No, Threepio, I need you to translate,” Luke said patiently. He had had variations on this conversation almost everywhere he went with C-3PO; the droid was just nervous. “Artoo can guard the ship by himself.”
In the corridor, R2-D2 beeped reassuringly, then turned to trundle back up to the cockpit.
Chewbacca groaned under his breath as he tapped in the code to close and lock the hatch. He found Threepio’s translations of Shyri-iwook inadequate, though Luke didn’t think he had any trouble making himself understood. They went down the ramp to see a bipedal figure dressed in somewhat disheveled brown knits coming toward them, carrying a datapad.
Across a broad corridor from the landing slots was a double gallery of what looked like cargo brokers and repair bays and other businesses that catered to trading ships. Humans and beings of various other species, as well as a few droids, moved along the walkways and bridges, and Luke heard a babble of voices as well as competing music from several different sources. The station looked shabby and well used, busy and cheerful, and he saw no sign of anyone in an Imperial uniform.
Beside him, Chewbacca made a comment. C-3PO translated, “He says it looks fairly promising. I don’t know why he thinks that. It seems rather dingy to me.”
Chewbacca grumbled low in his throat and gave Luke a look that combined reproach and irritation. Luke sighed. “Threepio, remember, we talked about leaving out the editorial commentary.”
The person with the datapad drew near. He was very tall and thin, with light blue skin, cadaverous features, and a halo of gray hair. His craggy features and hollow cheeks made him seem daunting, but he was smiling as he approached.
Cover story prepared, Luke began, “Hello. We’re new to your station—”
“I’m the portmaster. Are you trading? The docking fees are waived if you are trading. What are you trading?”
Luke abandoned their cover story, since the portmaster was apparently too busy to be interested. “We’re not trading right now, we don’t have a cargo. We’re meeting our friends here. They came in on a freighter called the Gamble? The ship was damaged—”
“Yes! Yes, I know it.” The portmaster tap
ped his datapad, rapidly filling out a docking form. “They were attacked by pirates.”
Luke nodded. “That’s them.” They must have given the portmaster the story about pirates to explain the damage to the ship. “They said they were hit by pirates before they arrived here,” he improvised.
“Yes, we saw it.”
“Saw it?” Luke stared, and Chewbacca woofed in surprise. “It happened here?”
”I think it happened twice. Their ship was damaged when they arrived in the system, but they were not the ones fired on by the pirates. That was the merchant vessel that was captured by the second pirate ship. These pirates get worse and worse! Soon we will have no shipping at all through these routes. Or the pirates will take this station.” He looked up from the datapad and took in their baffled expressions. “You must hear the story from them yourselves. It was a terrible incident.” He held out the ’pad. “Mark the chit for your docking fee, please.”
“Uh, right.” Luke let Chewie mark the ’pad, and asked, “Where are they?”
“Oh, your friends? They are in slot V334, down that way.”
As the portmaster left, Luke stared at Chewbacca in consternation. “You think he was just confused about what happened?”
Chewbacca shook his head pessimistically and motioned for Luke to hurry.
They started down the docking ring, C-3PO hurrying to keep up and worrying aloud that they might be attacked by pirates at any moment. The station seemed to be cycling into its “night” shift: most of the businesses were shutting down, while the music and noise from the cantinas was growing louder. After a short walk and a brief consultation with a battered old holodirectory pedestal, they found the Gamble’s slot.
As they came within sight of the ship, Luke said, “Wow, they weren’t kidding about the damage.” The hull was blackened and dented with blast impacts, and the engine housing for the starboard sublights was slagged.
Chewie grunted agreement. C-3PO translated, “He says that perhaps the portmaster wasn’t confused about a pirate attack.”
As they approached, Luke saw engineer Sorel standing near the ramp with a couple of techs he also recognized, sorting through crates of newly delivered supplies. Sorel glanced up and spotted them, and his expression showed pure relief. “Am I glad to see you!” he said, stepping forward.
Luke wasn’t surprised. Even from here, he could tell the engines were in bad shape. “We brought the Falcon and can take you all out of here if you can’t make repairs. I guess it was too late for the Princess and General Willard to make their meeting?”
“No, well …” Sorel hesitated, as if he had bad news he was reluctant to share. “The Princess isn’t back yet.”
“Back from where?” Luke asked. “Is she meeting with someone on the station?”
“No, she isn’t on the station.”
“What?” Luke stared. “Where is she? Where’s Han? Is he with her?” Chewbacca punctuated that with a loud inquiry of his own, which Luke didn’t need C-3PO to translate.
“They went off with an Alderaanian pirate ship.” At their expressions, Sorel added, “You’d better come in and see General Willard.”
The Gamble still bore signs of the battle, though the hasty repairs were evident everywhere in dismantled panels and scorched consoles, and the crew looked tired. Everyone seemed very relieved to see Luke and Chewbacca, though they had clearly been expecting a contact from the fleet to arrive at some point.
Willard, waiting for them in a small ready room, didn’t look well. His temple was badly bruised, and his eyes were sunken. He said, “You don’t know how good it is to see you.”
Luke managed to say fairly calmly, “General, Sorel said Han and the Princess went off with pirates?” He found it impossible to believe, but he couldn’t imagine why the engineer would have said it if it weren’t true.
The general nodded. “I need you to go after them. Sit down, and I’ll explain.”
Once they were seated, General Willard quickly told them the story, while Luke did his best to keep quiet and Chewbacca kept shaking his head and groaning. When Willard was finished, Luke burst out, “But do we have any idea where they went?”
“That’s what I asked the station officials.” The general took a data card out of his pocket. “They gave me these coordinates. They believe the pirates have some kind of base in this system. They’ve heard rumors of it for years, but no one they know of has ever seen it.” His expression was bleak. “It’s the only lead we have.”
Luke took the data card. “Will you be all right here while we look into it? Our mission was to get all of you out of here and back to the fleet.” He wanted to start after Leia and Han immediately, but he wasn’t sure about leaving the Gamble’s crew here. Especially when he and Chewie had no idea how long it would take to pick up the pirate’s trail and how far it would take them.
Willard said, “This is more important. And now that we’ve gotten medical attention for the wounded and the supplies we need to repair the hyperdrive, we should be able to get out of here on our own power in a few more days.”
Luke pushed to his feet. “We’ll send a message as soon as we find them.”
“To me, not to the fleet command,” Willard reminded him. “Until we discover who leaked the information about this mission, I don’t want any hint of this getting out.”
Chewbacca had gotten to his feet and slung his bowcaster over his shoulder. He eyed General Willard and made a comment to Luke. C-3PO translated, “Chewbacca asks if General Willard means to exclude General Madine from our communications?”
Chewbacca grumbled in annoyance, and Luke winced. He was fairly certain what Chewbacca had said had been a good deal more succinct and probably a little rude.
“If it’s someone in our communications chain, they may have a way to break into Madine’s secure frequency,” Willard said. “Until I find out where Leia is, I don’t want to take the chance.”
“Right,” Luke said. “We’ll find them.” He hoped he managed to sound confident, not desperate. What he felt was mostly desperate.
Luke and Chewbacca hurried down the docking ring back toward the Falcon. Most of the brokers and repair bays were quiet and dark, but the bars were roaring with activity. There were only a few other people out on the walkways, and the droids they saw were mostly maintenance bots. Luke kept an eye out for dock thieves, but mostly his thoughts were on what it would be like to lose Leia and Han.
His first few months in the Alliance, most of the people Luke had met had either dismissed him as a farmboy recruit or expected him to be an instant Jedi, as if all it required was ownership of a lightsaber. Han was one of the few people who accepted Luke for who he was, who didn’t expect him to be anything else.
Not that it had been easy to get to that point, even after everything they had gone through together on the Death Star. But it had occurred to Luke that someone who frequented places like Mos Eisley couldn’t afford the luxury of easy trust. Han’s attitude had reminded Luke of a pet anooba that his friend Biggs Darklighter had had as a kid. It had been half wild and abused by a former owner, and it had taken months of kind treatment before it had stopped snapping at everyone, before it decided it was safe in the Darklighter household. Luke had never thought Han would take kindly to the analogy, though, so he had kept it to himself.
But Luke had felt an instant bond with Leia. He could talk to her about anything. About his guilt over abandoning the farm on Tatooine after all the years of work his aunt and uncle had put into it, all for nothing now, their time there wasted. His hopes and his doubts about the Force, about whether he would ever be able to get the training and knowledge he needed to really use it. She had confided in him, too, but he always felt there was a wealth of things she just couldn’t say. It was still hard for her to talk about Alderaan, as if letting out all that pain would open a door she couldn’t close.
It worried him that these Alderaanian pirates might have found a way to play on that.
Wh
en they were almost to the Falcon, passing an empty docking slip, he said as much. Chewbacca snorted and rumbled a comment. “He says the pirates don’t know what they’re up against,” C-3PO translated. “He says that he would sooner fight a pack of nightcrawlers than Leia in a mood and Han there to help her. And I agree, Master Luke,” the droid finished, and for once Chewbacca didn’t protest the addendum.
Luke started to reply when a green-skinned male Duros stepped out from behind the half-closed blast door of an empty shopfront. Luke had always had trouble reading Duros; they had no noses, lipless mouths, and elongated red eyes, and he had never gotten to know any well enough pick up on the nuances of their expressions. But this one’s intentions were clear: he was pointing a blaster at them. “Keep your hands where I can see them, and come with me,” the Duros said.
Luke lifted his hands. Nobody was on the business gallery across from the Falcon’s slip, though the distant blare of music and voices told him that there was a well-occupied drinking establishment nearby. “Just the one of you?” he asked as casually as he could.
Chewbacca grunted, and C-3PO translated anxiously, “He says there is another one in the shop, and another across the docking corridor there behind that pillar.”
“I’m impressed,” the Duros said, still calm. “Now move.”
Luke figured that would be a very bad idea. “I don’t think so.”
“Move, or I’ll kill the Wookiee,” the Duros said. “I only need one of you.”
“You should have tried this farther down the dock,” Luke said. He had seen the stealthy mechanical movement in the dark beneath the Falcon. The Ax-108, the small antipersonnel blaster cannon, had dropped out of its concealed compartment in the Falcon’s hull and now pointed at them. R2-D2 had clearly seen the altercation. “Because our ship has you covered.”
