The metal glowed momentarily. When the incandescence dimmed, so had the single red eye in the body’s center. It was flat, glassy, and black.
Lando pawed through Rokur Gepta’s empty spacesuit. Down in the leg was a small bundle of ugly, slimy tissue, resembling a half-cooked snail, an escargot with a dozen skinny, hairy black legs. It was one of the most disgusting things the gambler had ever seen, but he’d seen it before.
It was a Croke, from a small, nasty system he’d once visited. The species was intelligent and unvaryingly vicious, and they were all masters of camouflage and illusion.
This one wasn’t quite dead. The suit had protected it, and it was nearly impervious to hard vacuum. Lando ripped the suit away, took the stunned and putrid creature that had been Rokur Gepta, and squeezed. When he was through, his suit gloves were covered with greasy slime, but no Sorcerer of Tund would ever rule the galaxy.
As if Gepta’s death were a signal, the fleet began to open up on the Oswaft within range. In the space of a moment, hundreds died … until the fleet had other things to think about; Klyn Shanga’s squadron was shooting back, giving the vacuum-breathing sapients covering fire so they could retreat. One fighter exploded, then another, but they were saving Oswaft lives.
“CEASE FIRE IMMEDIATELY OR BE DESTROYED!”
The voice came over everybody’s communicators simultaneously, at every frequency. Lando looked up from his little friend’s scorched torso—he’d gathered in the tentacles, as well, but they would not attach themselves and lay in his arms like so many dead pieces of jointed metal—to see a figure that dwarfed the departed Elders, even the largest dreadnaughts in the fleet.
It was a starship, but it was at least fifty kilometers in diameter, a smooth, featureless, highly polished ovoid of silvery metal. Another, identical monster followed close behind it. Far to the rear, Lando watched as others, countless others, penetrated the supposedly impenetrable wall of the ThonBoka as if it were so much fog. Hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands.
Some fool aboard the Recalcitrant opened fire with the new meter-thick destructor beam, deep green and hungry. A red beam from the leading foreign ship met the green one squarely, forced it back a meter at a time until it reached the navy cruiser. A pause, then the Recalcitrant became a cloud of incandescent gas.
“CEASE FIRE OR BE DESTROYED! THERE WILL BE NO OTHER WARNING!”
Racked with grief, Lando watched as more and more of the titanic ovoids appeared in the nebula. There was no way to estimate their number. The gambler thought they might fill up the StarCave, twelve light-years across as it might be.
Then a sensation brushed past him. Somehow he knew that only he could hear the tightly beamed message that issued from his helmet phones.
“You are Captain Calrissian, are you not? You have fought valiantly, and not in vain. You grieve for your little friend. I grieve, too, for he was my only son.”
• XVIII •
“SABACC!” SAID THE One. “By the Center of Everything, Lando, I knew we would learn new and valuable things if only we dared to.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve still got to learn the difference between luck and skill. That’s eighteen trillion I’m ahead of you already, counting that last hand, and I don’t even know yet what we’re using for currency!”
The gambler took a deep drag on his cigar and watched as the One gathered in the seventy-eight-card deck with a sweep of a jointed metallic tentacle. His eye glowed a deep scarlet with delight and anticipation as he dealt them out again, two to Lando, two more to Klyn Shanga, two to the extensor manifesting itself as the Other.
“Too bad,” he continued. “This game is a whole lot faster and more interesting five-handed. If only Vuffi Raa …”
“Each of us,” observed the Other, “sets his own course through the universe and must follow it where it takes us. This is called integrity, and to deviate—”
“Come on, you five-legged clowns, cut the pop philosophy and play cards! You know how long it’s been since I sat down at a real table and—”
Lando grinned. “And tried filling inside straights all night long, Admiral? At that, it beats dodging bullets and destructor beams. I’m glad you decided to be on our side, and I’m especially glad you’re a better fighter pilot than you are a sabacc player.”
“I’m only warming up. Give me a chance, and I’ll have your hide the easy way: payable in cash!”
Laughter around the table. It was good to have the lounge full of visitors, the gambler thought; a real passenger lounge for a change. But some folks seemed to be missing from his life, missing from places they’d carved for themselves only recently. Or relatively recently.
“Heard from Lehesu yet?” he asked, watching a Commander of Flasks change itself into a Three of Staves. He knew it was an electronic trick, but it never failed to give him goosebumps. Shanga was frowning, a sure sign he had a good hand, Lando had learned quickly. He kept his betting light.
The fighter pilot shook his head, still frowning. “One of the boys said something about seeing a middle-sized Oswaft zooming off during the battle. Said something about a courier he wanted to catch up with. Is it true the spacepeople want to make him High Supreme Galootie or something?”
A mechanical chuckle issued from the extensor representing the One. “It would seem they have decided that leadership—or at least wisdom—do not necessarily correlate positively with age. This is gratifying to me, as I am the youngest of my people … that is, I was before Vuffi Raa … er, I believe I shall take another card, gentle-beings.”
Outside, far away across the StarCave, the actual repositories of the intelligence of the One, the Other, and the Rest lay, as it were, at anchor. They were gigantic fifty-kilometer starships, intergalactically self-propelled droids of ancient origin.
Shanga changed the subject. “I never quite got who it was who built you folks originally—that is, if you don’t mind me asking a religious question.”
“Not at all,” the One replied. “They were a race of individuals who looked rather like these extensors. There are some among us who recall them, although I do not, except through cybernetically handed-down memories. They were not spacefarers; the idea simply didn’t appeal to them. They were wiped out in a radiation storm when a nearby star went supernova. Only a few intelligent machines were left, and they were my ancestors. We did explore the stars, at least in our arm. There is a high incidence of unstable stars there, so that organic life is rare.”
“Yes,” the Other concurred, “it was his idea to seek out organic life to liven up our own culture, and here we are.”
Lando shook his head. He wished his little robot friend were there to see this hand; it was a lulu. “Yes, but first you sent out an explorer whose memories were suppressed and who could not act violently. That way he’d generate fresh impressions and not get your civilization into trouble with others unless it was absolutely necessary.”
“Correct,” the One said. “And while the suppression worked, the conditioning did not. Self-preservation is a powerful motive, even though in the end—sabacc!”
“Beginner’s luck!” the professional gambler howled, wondering how much he’d lost this time. He heard footsteps behind him, turned and looked down the curving corridor toward the engine area. A figure stood there, covered with grease, a spanner in one of its hands. Its five-sided carapace was still scorched.
“I got the deflectors readjusted, Master,” Vuffi Raa said. “Admiral Shanga’s men are good shots, but that weakness won’t show up again now!”
“Fine. Now will you please stop being dutiful and join the game? And don’t call me master in front of your old man, here, it’s embarrassing.”
* * *
Hours later, two days after the battle and departure of the fleet, Lando was dozing in his pilot’s chair in the cockpit. Vuffi Raa was out somewhere, visiting his kinfolk.
“Captainmasterlandocalrissiansir, I have returned.” the ship-to-ship said.
“Zzzz
z—what? Lehesu! Why so formal all of a sudden—and where the Core have you been?” The gambler had heard it suggested that the young Oswaft had run away from defending the ThonBoka. He didn’t believe it for a moment, but he was curious.
“Oh, just before your duel with Rokur Gepta, I heard him tell an officer—his helmet microphone was open, apparently—that he was sending a courier to have that person’s family murdered should he disobey a rather ugly order. I hopped after him, but it took me a while to catch up.”
Lando stretched, yawned, reached for a cigar. “Oh? What did you do then, ask him to stop politely?”
“Why yes, and he did. In several pieces, I’m afraid: I shouted it at him.”
The gambler chuckled. “So now you’re home and going to be the Elder of all you survey, is that how it is?”
There was a long pause. “No, not precisely. I told them I would not be their Elder, and if they wanted my advice, they wouldn’t appoint a new one. I don’t think they listened to me. I wish neither to give nor receive orders—something I learned from you, Lando my friend.”
Lando his friend scratched his head, a gesture he’d never had habitually until he’d picked it up from Vuffi Raa. “I’m glad to hear it. What are you going to do with yourself, then?”
“Explore, discover the answers to questions. Probably get in trouble again. But tell me, I am very confused on one point: the Millennium Falcon is not really a person, is that correct? Nor the cruiser Wennis?”
“The late, unlamented cruiser Wennis. I don’t know what that life-destroying stuff was Gepta spewed around, but I’m glad it was destroyed with her. No, friend Lehesu, much as we may love her, the Falcon is a machine.” He puffed on his cigar, anticipating the Oswaft’s next bewildered question. “And before you ask, yes, the One, the Other, and the Rest are indeed persons, of the mechanical persuasion. They think for themselves, the Falcon doesn’t. In a sense, they are to you what Vuffi Raa is to me: you both live in free space; it’s your natural environment. Vuffi Raa and I are arms-and-legs types, born and bred in a gravity well and most comfortable where there’s light and heat and atmosphere.”
“But Lando, what is Vuffi Raa?”
“A larval starship, if you believe him. The organic people who invented his ancestors looked like him, built machines that looked like him—the same idea as a humanoid robot. Today his people use ‘extensors’—manipulators—that still look like him. If he’s a good little bot and eats all his spinach, he’ll grow up to be a starship, too. If he wants to.”
Concern tinged the vacuum-breather’s transmission. “I’m told that he was nearly killed while I was gone. I feel somewhat guilty for—”
“Forget it, old jellyfish, his daddy repaired him in just a few hours. What counts is the memory, the experiences, the character, and they were all intact, protected in googolicate at the deepest levels of his being. No little blaster was going to do more than freeze him up mechanically.”
“What will you do now, Lando?”
“Well, I think it’s time I gave up this wandering life, if only for a while. I need to do something responsible, own something, have some obligations. I’ll think about it. I’ve learned a lot, and I have plenty to get started on. The Falcon’s holds are full of gigantic gemstones—every variety I’ve ever seen or heard of, and a few I’m going to have to consult experts on. I could buy an entire city.”
“And Vuffi Raa?”
“I don’t know, old manta, I don’t know.”
The Millennium Falcon’s engines thrummed with pent up energy. She was eager to go back into intergalactic space, eager for another adventure. In her cockpit, Vuffi Raa was finishing up a lecture: “And be sure to back the engines off at least three percent when initiating the deflector shields, otherwise the surge will overload her, and—”
“I know, I know, I know,” her captain replied patiently while trying to suppress tears. “The only thing I don’t understand is why you’re going back this very minute. Why can’t you—”
“Master, it is a bargain I have made. I would much prefer, like you and Lehesu, to continue exploring the universe, to have adventure and savor life. I will again, someday. But I was constructed for the purpose of recording those experiences and relaying them to my people. I feel the need to do this, as you feel the need to breathe. Do you understand, Master?”
“I understand.” He patted the little droid’s shiny torso. The rest of the blast damage had healed, and the robot looked as new and perfect as the day they’d met. “Well, if you ever get back to this arm of the galaxy, you know how to find me, don’t you? I haven’t much in the way of a permanent address.”
There was an electronic chuckle. “I’ll just go where there’s the most trouble and noise, and there’ll you be, Master.”
“Not on your life! I’m going to settle down, be responsible. And Vuffi Raa?”
“Yes, Master?”
“Don’t you think, now that you know exactly who and what you are, that you could stop calling me master?”
“Why, I suppose so, Lando. Why didn’t you ask me before?”
STAR WARS—The Expanded Universe
You saw the movies. You watched the cartoon series, or maybe played some of the video games. But did you know …
In The Empire Strikes Back, Princess Leia Organa said to Han Solo, “I love you.” Han said, “I know.” But did you know that they actually got married? And had three Jedi children: the twins, Jacen and Jaina, and a younger son, Anakin?
Luke Skywalker was trained as a Jedi by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda. But did you know that, years later, he went on to revive the Jedi Order and its commitment to defending the galaxy from evil and injustice?
Obi-Wan said to Luke, “For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times. Before the Empire.” Did you know that over those millennia, legendary Jedi and infamous Sith Lords were adding their names to the annals of Republic history?
Yoda explained that the dreaded Sith tend to come in twos: “Always two, there are. No more, no less. A Master, and an apprentice.” But did you know that the Sith didn’t always exist in pairs? That at one time in the ancient Republic there were as many Sith as Jedi, until a Sith Lord named Darth Bane was the lone survivor of a great Sith war and created the “Rule of Two”?
All this and much, much more is brought to life in the many novels and comics of the Star Wars expanded universe. You’ve seen the movies and watched the cartoon. Now venture out into the wider worlds of Star Wars!
Turn the page or jump to the timeline of Star Wars novels to learn more.
1
“IT’S a warship all right. Damn!”
Instrument panels in the Millennium Falcon’s cockpit were alive with trouble lights, warning flashers, and the beeps and hoots of the sensor package. Readout screens were feeding combat-information displays at high speed.
Han Solo, crouched forward in the pilot’s seat, coolly flicking his eyes from instrument to screen, hastily assessed his situation. His lean, youthful face creased in a frown of concern. Beyond the cockpit canopy, the surface of the planet Duroon drew steadily nearer. Somewhere below and astern, a heavily armed vessel had detected the Falcon’s presence and was now homing in to challenge her. That the warship had, in fact, picked up the Millennium Falcon first was a matter of no small worry to Han; the ability to come and go without attracting notice, especially official notice, was vital to a smuggler.
He began relaying fire-control data to the ship’s weapons systems. “Charge main batteries, Chewie,” he said, not taking his eyes from his part of the console, “and shields-all. We’re in prohibited space; can’t let ’em take us or identify the ship.” Particularly, he added to himself, with the cargo we’re hauling.
To his right, Chewbacca the Wookiee made a sound halfway between a grunt and a bark, his furry fingers darting to his controls with sure dexterity, his large, hairy form hunched in the oversized copilot’s sea
t. Wookiee-style, he showed his fierce fighting teeth as he rapidly surrounded the starship with layers of defensive energy. At the same time, he brought the Falcon’s offensive weaponry up to its maximum charge.
Bracing his ship for battle, Han berated himself for ever having taken on this job. He’d known full well it could take him into conflict with the Corporate Sector Authority, in the middle of a steer-clear area.
The Authority ship’s approach left Han and Chewbacca just seconds for a clutch decision: abort the mission and head for parts unknown, or try to pull off their delivery anyway. Han surveyed his console, hoping for a clue, or a hit off the Cosmic Deck.
The other ship wasn’t gaining. In fact, the Falcon was pulling away. Sensors gauged the mass, armaments, and thrust of their pursuer, and Han made his best guess. “Chewie, I don’t think that’s a ship of the line; looks more like a bulk job, with augmentative weapons. She must’ve just lifted off when she got wind of us. Hell, don’t those guys have anything better to do?” But it figured; the one major Authority installation on Duroon, the only one with a full-dress port layout, was on the far side of the globe, where the dawn line would just be lightening gray sky. Han had planned his landing for a spot as far away from the port as possible, in the middle of the night-side.
“We take her down,” he decided. If the Falcon could shake her follower, Han and Chewbacca could make their drop and, with the luck of the draw, escape.
The Wookiee gave a grumpy growl, black nostrils flaring, tongue curling. Han glared at him. “You got a better idea? It’s a little late to part company, isn’t it?” He took the converted freighter into a steep dive, throwing away altitude in return for increased velocity, heading deeper into Duroon’s umbra.
The Authority vessel, conversely, slowed even more, climbing through the planet’s atmosphere, trading speed for altitude in an attempt to keep the Millennium Falcon under sensor surveillance. Han ignored the Authority’s broadcast order to halt; telesponders that should have automatically given his starship’s identity in response to official inquiry had been disconnected long ago.
Star Wars - Lando Calrissian and the StarCave of ThonBoka Page 16
