by James Luceno
Reeze whistled in surprise. “Front seat on the fall of civilization as we know it.”
“Not likely. But all the more reason to deliver our cargo.”
“So you say.” Reeze gazed out the YT's circular viewport. “I see a problem in our getting downside in one piece. A bunch of problems, actually, and the words laser cannon figure into all of them.”
Jadak swiveled his chair. “We can't be late, Reeze. They said it's important.”
Reeze returned a glum nod. “Late being the operative word. As in the late Reeze Duurmun.”
“I'll tell everyone you died a hero.”
“What—you'll survive?” Reeze stared at his friend, then laughed. “Yeah. You probably will.”
Jadak swung forward. “See what you can pick up on the battle net.”
Reeze tugged the headset over his ears and keyed a coded entry into the communications suite. He listened to the comm chatter for a moment, then craned his neck to study something off to starboard and brought a new view of the battle to one of the instrument panel display screens. He tapped his forefinger against the screen to indicate the icon profile of a large battle cruiser, with a stalked observation deck aft and a flyout bridge.
Jadak read the alphanumeric data beneath the icon. “What am I looking at?”
“The Invisible Hand.”
“General Grievous's flagship.”
“That's where they were holding Palpatine.”
“Were?”
“The Jedi rescued him. Kenobi and Skywalker. But the three of them are still on board.”
Jadak took the YT through a quick spin to improve the view. In the middle distance, a Republic Cruiser was hammering away at the Invisible Hand's waist, where its elongated prow met a bulbous aft section. Maybe in retaliation for what the Republic ship had endured from the Invisible Hand's flak arrays. Jadak glanced at the monitor.
“Looks like the captain of the Guarlara didn't get word that the Chancellor's onboard.”
“Could be because of signal jamming. Or maybe he just doesn't care.”
Jadak scowled. “Palpatine's death would create as many problems as it would solve.”
For several moments, the two men watched in silence as the Guarlara subjected the Separatist flagship to repeated laser cannon broadsides, blowing gaping holes in the hull and igniting fiery explosions that swept through the Invisible Hand stem to stern. Jadak couldn't imagine the cybernetic Grievous surviving the onslaught, let alone Palpatine and his saviors, the force or no. When the flagship could endure no more, it listed, then fell victim to gravity and began a slow descent into Coruscant's atmosphere.
“She's dirt-bound,” Jadak said.
“And already coming apart. Two to one she won't make it halfway.”
“I'll take that bet.”
With one hand clamped on the control yoke, Jadak tweaked the inertial compensator and shot the YT forward. No one tried to prevent them from plunging into the heart of the maelstrom. If they were hell bent on becoming just another battle casualty, it was their business.
“We could at least try an end run, you know,” Reeze said, one hand clamped to the chair's armrest.
Jadak countered it with a shake of his head. “The Seps have the rest of the planet blockaded. Our best shot's here, with the Invisible Hand breaking trail.”
Reeze shot Jadak a look. “We're following her down?”
“Let's say, in.”
Reeze nodded. “I'm good with in.”
“Even if it means losing the bet?”
“Even if.”
If they were to ride the Invisible Hand's wake to the surface, first they had to reach her. That meant threading a path among the countless frigates and gunboats that stood in the way, dodging the fighters that continued to spill from the bellies of the KDY carriers and the curving arms of the Neimoidians' behemoth Lucrehulks, and avoiding the turbolaser fire that crosshatched near space. But they didn't doubt for a moment that the YT was up to the task. The ship had never let them down, and there was no reason to think she would fail them now.
An unknown quantity to the friend-or-foe interrogators of the warships they streaked past, the YT became a target of opportunity for one and all. Absent weapons of their own, Jadak and Reeze had to rely on the freighter's remarkable speed and near-preternatural agility. They pushed the ship for all she was worth, corkscrewing through churning clouds of fighter dogfights and executing twists and turns better left to Jedi Interceptors than forty-year-old light freighters— even one as upgraded and enhanced as the YT was. Power that wasn't being consumed by the YT's sublight engine was being gobbled up by the deflector shields, taxed by each glancing bolt the ship sustained.
Leaping out from behind one of Coruscant's crazed orbital mirrors, they raced to fall in behind the flaming deteriorating hulk the Separatist flagship had become, her blunt bow dipped toward Coruscant in a gesture of surrender, ablative shielding glowing red-hot, and sloughing pieces of armor like a monar serpent shedding scales.
“Cruiser's escape pods are away,” Reeze said.
Jadak magnified the forward view of the ship. Hands vised on the yoke as the YT slalomed through a fragment cloud of parts and components, Jadak watched in awe as the warship altered vector for the planet's governmental district. The Invisible Hand was falling to be sure, but it was clear that someone still had the helm and was determined to guide the vessel in by deploying the drag fins and using the exterior hatches as needed to keep the ship from burning up in the atmosphere.
“Skywalker?” Reeze said.
“I doubt it's Palpatine—unless he's got talents he hasn't revealed.”
Hundreds of warships too large to be annihilated by Coruscant's artillery and rocketry had penetrated the umbrella and cratered the urbanscape. But it was obvious that the standoff gunnery crews had been ordered to allow the Invisible Hand through, which in turn upped the YT's chances of making planetfall. All they had to do was remain close enough to the ship not to be spotted, but far enough from it not to be incinerated.
Jadak had his hand on the throttle when the entire aft portion of the Invisible Hand tumbled away in a mass of flaming wreckage. Only Reeze's last-moment evasive actions kept the YT from being atomized. Just as quickly, Jadak brought the freighter up on her side and barrel-rolling out of harm's way. But the hail of debris that slammed into the shields was worse than anything they had flown through earlier, and the deflectors might as well have yowled for all the alert tones the instrument panel issued.
Without warning, the YT veered sharply. Only the copilot chair's safety harness kept Reeze from landing in Jadak's lap. Status indicators flashed on the console, and another chorus of alarms filled the cockpit.
“Port braking thruster's taken a bad hit,” Jadak said as he brought the YT back on course. “We'll check it out when we set down.”
Reeze snugged the harness. “The eternal optimist.”
“Someone in this cockpit's gotta be.”
With half of the warship's mass lost to space, whoever had the controls was managing to keep the truncated forward portion on track for a controlled crash, probably on one of the old hardened landing strips in the government district. Repulsors howling, the YT continued to follow it down, shedding altitude and velocity. But with only twenty kilometers to go, icons began to paint the threat screen and proximity alarms wailed. Jadak saw flights of ships screaming up the well to render aid to the Invisible Hand.
“Fireships,” Reeze said. “Couple of clone fighters, too.”
“Time to make ourselves scarce.”
“We've got that authorization code—”
“Better save it for when we really need it. Switch us over to terrain-following.”
“Quick circumnavigation?”
“No time for that.”
Jadak consulted the topographic display then banked out of the warship's wake, main thrusters protesting and intense waves of heat assaulting them. Two of the clone fighters gave chase but ultimately peeled
away to rejoin the Invisible Hand, which was fast approaching the landing strip.
The YT slewed west over the spaceport tower and the Jedi Temple, then out over The Works, through columns of oily black smoke billowing from crash craters and fires that had spread into some of the outlying districts.
“Looks like the alien sectors took the brunt of it,” Reeze said.
“A lot of folks have been trying to get rid of those slums for decades.”
“Grievous in league with the urban renewal lobbyists?”
“Why not?”
Jadak had never seen the striated airlanes so empty. But in among the emergency vehicles and police cruisers were clone-piloted ARC-170s on the prowl for intruders until martial law was lifted. In the time it took to bring the YT about, several of the fighters had taken an interest in the freighter.
“About twenty gun emplacements have us in target lock,” Reeze said.
“Open the comm.”
“YT-Thirteen-hundred,” someone said over the subspace comm. “Identify yourself and state your destination.”
“Stellar Envoy out of Ralltiir,” Jadak said toward the microphone. “Destination is the Senate Annex.”
“The Senate is restricted airspace. If you've an authorization code, transmit it now, or turn about. Failure to comply will be met with lethal force.”
Jadak nodded to Reeze. “Go ahead.”
Reeze swiveled his chair and punched a code into the comm board.
“Transmitting authorization.”
“Stellar Envoy,” the same voice said a moment later, “you are cleared for the Senate Building.”
CLIMBING THROUGH THE LOW-LEVEL TRAFFIC LINES, THE STELLAR Envoy banked broadly as she approached the governmental district, which was delineated from the surrounding urban sprawl by a kilometers-deep canyon that encircled it like a moat. Some of Coruscant's most majestic towers ringed the area, rising like sandstone spires eroded over eons by wind and rain. Even deeper canyons radiated from the vaunted circle, and it was from one of these that the YT emerged, the dome of the Senate Annex dominating the foreground, the squat mushroom that housed the Senate Rotunda looming behind.
Just ahead of the Stellar Envoy and veering gently toward one of the annex's open-air upper-tier landing berths flew a blunt-nosed Senate speeder bus, trimmed in muted purple. The YT continued to ascend until she came even with the base of the annex, then leveled out and aimed for one of the minimal berths in the dome's lowest tier.
Jadak engaged the braking thrusters and repulsors, but the ship came down hard on her port-side landing gear despite his best efforts.
“We've gotta repair that jet,” he said.
“I'll see to it.”
Reeze shut down the engines, and the two of them unstrapped from their seats. Entering the narrow corridor that linked the outrigger cockpit to the freighter's circular core, Jadak palmed the control pad that lowered the starboard boarding ramp. Pinging and steaming sounds rose from the ship as they walked down the ramp, an alloy carry case dangling from Jadak's right hand. The Stellar Envoy's whirring exhaust fans stirred the stale air.
The berth was dimly lit and empty of the load-lifter droids common to the upper tiers. Two beings in colorful Senatorial robes hurried forward to greet them. Des'sein was humanoid; Largetto, anything but. Both represented beleaguered worlds distant from the Core.
Off to one side stood a Kadas'sa'Nikto Jedi, whose long brown overcloak and tall boots made him appear even taller than his actual two meters. Clawed hands crossed in front of him; a lightsaber was clipped to his belt. He nodded gravely to Jadak. His gray-green face had the look of tanned leather. A toolbox of some sort rested at his feet.
Des'sein was the first to reach Jadak. “You have it?” he asked in a rushed voice, while Largetto glanced about nervously.
Jadak raised and proffered the carry case. “It's all in here. Everything you asked for.”
Des'sein accepted the case and placed it atop a small table, his knobby fingers shaking as he worked the lock; Largetto leaned over him in anticipation. Opening the lid, the Senators activated a device inside the case and listened intently for a moment. Blinking lights reflected in Largetto's glossy black eyes.
Des'sein closed and locked the case and took a stuttering breath.
“This will prove of great value to our cause, Captain Jadak.”
Largetto nodded in agreement. “Frankly, Captain, we feared that you wouldn't be able to land.”
“You can thank the code you provided.”
“You're being too humble. The code didn't pilot the ship.”
Jadak inclined his head in a show of thanks.
A third Senator dashed into the landing bay from a doorway in the rear. A human with a bib of white beard and a topknot of dark hair, Fang Zar was breathless when he spoke.
“The Chancellor has been returned to us unharmed.” He glanced at the Jedi. “Your confederates survived as well, Master Shé.”
The small horns surrounding the Jedi's eyes twitched, but he said nothing.
“Chancellor Palpatine and his party arrived just ahead of Captain Jadak.”
“The speeder bus,” Reeze said from behind Jadak.
“Martial law has been rescinded,” Zar went on. “And Count Dooku is dead.”
Largetto grabbed hold of Des'sein's upper arm in excitement. “Then perhaps we won't have to act on the data Captains Jadak and Reeze have taken such pains to deliver.”
“May the Force be with us,” Fang Zar said.
“Yes. But we must carry on until such time that we can be sure of the Chancellor's intent.” Des'sein looked at Jadak. “We have another assignment for your consideration.”
Jadak and Reeze traded brief glances.
“We're all ears,” Reeze said.
Des'sein lowered his voice. “We would ask you to deliver the Stellar Envoy to our allies on Toprawa.”
Jadak's brow knitted. “Deliver?”
“Just so,” Largetto said. “The Antarian Ranger who will take possession of the ship is called Folee. You will find her in Salik City, which is the capital of the western regions. Your code phrase is: Restore Republic honor to the galaxy. Will you repeat that for me, Captain?”
Jadak's mouth had fallen open. He closed it and swallowed hard. “Restore Republic honor to the galaxy. But … this Folee, she's taking the ship?”
Des'sein regarded him. “Is there a problem?”
“It's just that we've grown, you know, kind of fond of her,” Reeze said. “I mean, couldn't we maybe buy the Envoy from you and find another ship to deliver to Toprawa?”
“Impossible,” Fang Zar said. “The Stellar Envoy is crucial to this mission.”
Jadak tightened his lips in restraint. “If we're leaving the Envoy … does that mean you're retiring us, too?”
“Not at all, Captain,” Des'sein was quick to say. “Unless, of course, that is your wish.”
“No,” Jadak said. “But Toprawa's a long jump on the Hydian Way. I'm just wondering how we're supposed to return to the Core.”
“We'll furnish you with sufficient funds for transport. More important, we'll have a better-behaved ship waiting for you when you return.”
“Perhaps a faster one, as well,” Largetto said.
“Not likely,” Reeze muttered.
Jadak swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “I hope this mission's worthy of her.”
“Oh, it is, Captain,” Fang Zar said. “We assure you.”
Jadak blew out his breath and nodded resignedly.
Des'sein studied him for a moment. “May I take your gesture to mean that you're willing to execute the mission?”
Jadak looked to Reeze. “We wouldn't want anyone else to do it.”
Des'sein turned to Master Shé, who lifted the toolbox and headed for the YT's boarding ramp, his brown overcloak dusting the permacrete floor.
“Master Shé needs to modify the ship slightly,” Fang Zar explained. “But his work won't affect your fligh
t.”
Jadak watched the Jedi disappear into the ship. Then he turned back to Des'sein. “What phrase will Folee use to identify herself?”
Des'sein blinked in short-lived confusion. “Oh, I see. No, you're mistaken, Captain. She is expecting you. The phrase we've provided you is a mnemonic aid she will need to carry out her part of the mission.”
“Mnemonic,” Jadak said.
“A memory shortcut,” Largetto said. “Folee will understand. And the Envoy will handle the rest of it.”
Jadak rarely asked questions about his assignments, but curiosity got the better of him. “The Envoy has been programmed—”
“Think of the ship as a key,” Fang Zar said. “The key to a treasure.”
Jadak waited.
“A treasure sufficient to restore Republic honor to the galaxy,” Des'sein said finally.
Senate Intelligence Bureau Director Armand Isard was scanning the crowd that had welcomed Supreme Chancellor Palpatine when his comlink chimed. The speeder bus had berthed moments earlier, and the Chancellor and his handpicked party were moving down the red-carpeted colonnade toward the atrium turbolifts. In passing, Isard noted that Jedi Skywalker had lingered behind to speak privately with Senator Amidala.
A muscular man who had a talent for going unnoticed in a crowd despite his height, Isard was dressed in an unadorned gray uniform. His black hair matched the luster of his knee-high boots. Leaving the red carpet for the relative solitude of the tier's forest of ornate columns, he depressed the comlink's ACCEPT button and glanced down at the device, whose small screen displayed the face of the bureau's assistant director.
“I just wanted to alert you to a little confab that's transpiring in one of the lower-tier berths,” the assistant director said.
Isard's dark eyes continued to track the movements of the welcome committee. “Go on.”
“Senators Des'sein, Largetto, and Zar have taken possession of a carry case delivered by the pilots of an old YT freighter.”
