Ambush at Corellia

by Roger MacBride Allen

  “Yes, hello,” Lando said, his heart pounding so hard the holocom’s microphone should have picked it up. “My name is Lando Calrissian. I’m trying to reach Tendra Risant?”

  The woman smiled warmly. “Captain Calrissian! How kind of you to call ahead. I am Tendra Risant.”

  Lando smiled in relief. She hadn’t cut the call connection, and she didn’t have horns growing out of her head. A good start. “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Tendra.”

  “And I yours. Are you coming to Sacorria soon?” she asked.

  “I’m on my way even as we speak, Lady Tendra.”

  “Please, just call me Tendra,” she said. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to meeting you, Captain Calrissian.”

  “My friends call me Lando,” he replied, “and I hope you’re going to be one of them.”

  She smiled. “I have very little doubt of that—Lando.”

  Lando smiled back, and wondered why he had thought this was going to be tough. “I’m very glad to hear that, Tendra,” he said. “Very glad indeed.”

  * * *

  The universe exploded into being around the Jade’s Fire, and Mara Jade watched placidly as the starlines became stars, and the Corellian System appeared around them.

  “On course and en route,” the pilot reported. “Corellian Traffic Control has acknowledged, and we are moving toward Corellia in the center of our traffic lane.”

  “Excellent, Mr. Nesdin,” said Mara. “Mr. Tralkpha,” she said, addressing her Mon Calamari navigator, “while you are not otherwise engaged, give us a deep scan of the system, if you please.” No doubt he had already started the scan—indeed she would have been irritated if he had not shown that much initiative—but for form’s sake at least, the order had to be given.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tralkpha replied. “I’m getting some interesting results from the special equipment.” The Jade’s Fire carried some advanced technology scanners that any captain in the New Republic Navy would give her right arm for. They were able to integrate the information derived from the drop out of hyperspace into an instant snapshot of the entire arrival star system. The system worked at an astonishing degree of detail—sometimes. Conditions had to be just right. But today at least, it sounded as if conditions were indeed cooperating.

  “What have you got?” Mara asked.

  “Nothing, ma’am. Almost no ships at all in space in this system.”

  “What’s so interesting about that?” she asked.

  “There’s much, much less traffic than there should be, even considering the bad shape the economy’s in. No military flights, one or two passenger shuttles here and there, and just two or three cargo vehicles approaching Corellia. The only other ships I can see show as the ones bearing the delegates to the trade summit—and there aren’t all that many of them either. I think there are going to be some no-shows.”

  “I suppose I should be surprised by that,” Mara said, “but somehow, I’m not, Mr. Tralkpha. There’s a bad storm coming here,” she went on, “and no one wants to be out of port when it hits.”

  * * *

  “Can we stop having fun yet?” Han asked. He squinted a bit as he piloted the hovercar through the dark night of Corellia, toward the bright lights of Coronet, dead ahead. The interior of the hovercar was dark and quiet, with the sounds of sleep coming from the rear seats.

  Leia, in the copilot’s seat next to him, smiled sleepily. “Just about,” she said. “As soon as we get home.”

  “Wherever that is,” Han said.

  Leia laughed. “It does seem to move around a lot, doesn’t it?” she asked. She stretched out her arms, arched her back, and shifted in her seat before settling back down with a yawn. “Well, even if we have to move out of the villa to do it, I won’t mind getting into Corona House. I won’t feel so exposed.”

  “I don’t know,” Han said, his voice more serious. “Even if Corona House seems safer, I’m not so sure it is. But I guess we do have to be there for the big show. It’d be a real chore commuting from the villa—and having to fly back and forth over the city wouldn’t exactly give us first-class security either. But I’ve got to admit I’m glad we don’t have to see any more sights for a while.”

  A deafening, thunderous roar came from the back of the hovercar, and then a sort of thud and a whimper. Chewbacca, along with everyone else, was asleep in the rear seats, with Anakin curled up in his lap. Anytime Chewbacca started to snore, Anakin would wake up just enough to slug him in the chest and make him stop. Jacen and Jaina were asleep in the rear row of seats, and Ebrihim was out as well, curled up at Jacen’s feet, breathing with a funny sort of relaxed wheezing noise. Even Q9-X2 had powered down. He was in the rear driver’s-side corner of the car, all power indicators off except for one tiny amber point of light that blinked on and off.

  They had been playing tourist all across the main continent of Corellia for more days than Han could count at this point. He had lost track of the sights they had seen. All of Ebrihim’s careful explanations of what they were seeing—along with Q9’s fussy interruptions and corrections whenever his master skimmed over a trifling detail—had blurred together in Han’s mind.

  Even ignoring the whole question of sight-seeing burnout, it had not been easy keeping up the pose of carefree tourist family. Especially not after the twins had told them what Anakin had found in General Yarar’s little excavation, and they had seen the playback of Q9’s scans. There could be no doubt that Yarar’s people were there looking for whatever that thing was—assuming they had not found it by now. None of them—not Chewbacca, not Q9, not even Ebrihim—had the slightest idea what the massive installation was, but no one could doubt that it was important. Otherwise, Yarar’s people would not be spending so much time and effort looking for it.

  The only thing anyone knew for sure was that there was bound to be trouble, sooner or later—and probably sooner. All they knew for certain was that someone wanted them to leave, to be scared. And for that reason, if no other, it was important that they remain where they were, and make it as clear as possible that they had no worries.

  And so they had determinedly not noticed the CDF and PPB hovercars that were forever cruising above and behind them, providing escort. They had ignored the discreet guards that had appeared magically around them in every museum, every historic old building and amusement park. It had not been easy, pretending not to see the wall around them.

  If there was one positive thing that had come of it all, it was that Han and his family had come to trust in the CDF ground forces. The CDF Space Service was quite another matter, but Han for one no longer had any doubt concerning the agents protecting his family. Perhaps he had seen more professional security teams, but none that tried harder. They had been too cautious, too careful, for him to believe it could all be an act.

  In any event, he would not be dealing with them much longer. Tonight marked the last day of their vacation, and Han had a hunch he was not the first father in history to look forward to getting back to the regular working day. Tomorrow was the first day of the trade summit, and the handoff to Leia’s official security detail.

  Tonight also marked the family’s move out of the beachside villa. They would fly straight to Corona House, where the conference would take place, and sleep in the apartments waiting for them there.

  Actually, everyone but Han would sleep there tonight. It had taken some finagling on his part, but he had managed to convince Leia that he should drop everyone off at Corona House, and then fly on to the villa, sleep there, and clear out the last of the family’s belongings in the morning. Leia seemed to think that Han wanted to get a night of peace and quiet before diving into the grueling social whirl of a diplomatic meeting, and Han was quite willing to leave her with that impression. He had his own private agenda to take care of overnight, and he could not do what he had to do with company around.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later the hovercar settled down onto the roof of
Corona House. Chewbacca and Ebrihim woke up, and Q9 switched himself back on, but all of the children were obviously out cold and they were going to stay that way. Han scooped up Jacen, Leia took Anakin, and Chewbacca took Jaina. They carried the children out of the car, down the turbolift to the apartment they had been assigned on the fifteenth floor of the twenty-story building, and got the children roused enough to peel their clothes off, at least go through the motions of getting teeth brushed and faces washed, and get into their sleep shirts.

  All three of the children were sound asleep again before their heads hit their pillows. Chewbacca nodded to himself in satisfaction, and yawned hugely, displaying a terrifying collection of teeth. Then he went out of the room, leaving Han and Leia to look down on their children.

  “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” Leia asked, sliding her arm around her husband’s back as they looked down on the three little people, innocent and asleep, all the cares of the galaxy quite out of their minds.

  “Oh, yeah,” Han said. “That, they get from your side of the family. Wonderful children. Beautiful children.”

  Leia nestled her head on Han’s shoulder. “You’ll be careful tonight, won’t you? I want these guys to have a father in the morning.”

  Han sighed and patted her on the shoulder. “I don’t know why I even bother trying to keep you from worrying,” he said. “It’s not that big a deal tonight. No real danger. I just need to do something without being seen.”

  “And I shouldn’t know about it?” Leia asked.

  “Probably best if you don’t. For one thing, we don’t really know who might be listening in right now. But you might say I’m going to take out a little insurance policy, and the less anyone knows about it, the more likely it is to work. Besides, I don’t know if it’s the sort of thing we can really count on.”

  “All right,” Leia said, but the tone of her voice was not altogether happy. “I love you. I trust you. Do what you have to do to take care of us.”

  “Hey, Your Worshipfulness,” he said, calling her by the old teasing nickname, “that’s all I ever do.”

  Leia laughed, and looked up at him. “You always were a good liar,” she said, and kissed him.

  * * *

  Han said his goodnights to Leia and then went to Chewbacca’s quarters, just down the hall from his own apartment. He did not use the door annunciator, but instead knocked softly. The door came open immediately. Chewie had guessed his next move as well. Han decided he was going to give up trying to fool anyone. He slipped into the Wookiee’s apartment.

  “Chewie,” Han said as soon as the door was shut, “you’ve got to promise me something.”

  The Wookiee cocked his head to one side and let out a cautious little hoot.

  “Yes, I’ll tell you what it is first. I’m going out now, and probably I’ll see you in the morning and everything will be fine. But just in case it doesn’t go fine, or just in case we don’t get a chance, I want you to promise me something now. Promise me you’ll take care of the kids.”

  Chewie bared his fangs, took a step toward Han, and let out a terrifying roar as he grabbed Han by both shoulders and lifted him straight into the air.

  “Hey, take it easy, will you?” Han protested, his feet dangling in midair. “Want to wake up everyone in Corona House? I wasn’t forgetting your life debt, much as I might like to.” Han had freed Chewbacca from slavers, long ago, and Chewie had sworn to protect Han’s life in return—though he had not consulted Han about the idea first. There had been plenty of times it had been less than convenient for Han to have a self-appointed Wookiee bodyguard. But a Wookiee life debt was irrevocable—and it extended to the children. At least this one did. Han didn’t pretend to know everything about the Wookiee ethical code.

  Just at the moment, however, Chewbacca was threatening to tear Han’s head off because the Wookiee had taken Han’s request to protect them as some sort of suggestion that the Wookiee life debt was not assurance enough—a mortal insult if ever there was one.

  Han decided to try again, and hope that this time he could express himself clearly enough not to get himself killed. “All I meant was focus on them. Don’t worry about Leia or me. If things get tricky—and I think they’re going to—it might be that Leia or I have to take some risks. If we do, and you have to choose between us and the kids—don’t even think about us, okay? And don’t think about sailing into glorious battle or Wookiee blood lust or any of that other nonsense. Get yourself killed and the kids might be in big trouble. If things get bad enough, it might be that you’ll have just a split second to decide what to do. And you’ve got to decide to get the kids out of danger. Don’t think about anything else. Okay?”

  Chewie thought for a moment, then nodded, and let go of Han, setting him back down on the floor. “All right, then,” Han said, straightening his shirt. “And next time, don’t be so touchy.”

  * * *

  Han took the turbolift back up to the roof of Corona House, and smiled politely to the CDF guard on duty there. “Hi,” he said. “I’m just going to get something out of the Millennium Falcon before I fly the hovercar back over to the villa. Okay?”

  The guard shrugged in a friendly sort of way. “Sure, it’s your ship,” she said. “Do what you want.”

  “Just thought I’d tell you first,” Han said. “Things are a little jumpy, and I don’t want to cause any problems by accident.” I prefer to cause them deliberately, he thought, but he kept that idea to himself.

  “Probably smart,” the guard said. “You take care of yourself.”

  “Oh, I intend to,” said Han. “You have a good night, and I’ll see you later.”

  * * *

  There were certain advantages to being a nobody from nowhere. The security types might worry about the Chief of State, but no one was much worried about what happened to a retired smuggler. Once clear of Leia, Han had good hopes of being able to move around without a herd of Corellian Defense Force baby-sitters for company.

  And the same went for the villa. As Leia Organa Solo was not going to be there any longer, and as the CDF security teams would have their plate quite full enough dealing with the trade summit, the CDF was packing up and moving out. Han guided the hovercar down toward the villa, and was rewarded with the sight of the CDF security team in the process of pulling out. He just hoped that his timing was good enough. If Kalenda had pulled out as well, that was going to be too bad.

  He landed the hovercar and looked up the beach toward the “empty” villa. Was she still there? Even if she was, would it do any good?

  Well, no sense worrying about it. Not when he’d find out in a few hours. Better give the last of the CDF team time to clear out first, though.

  Then he’d make the try.

  * * *

  Belindi Kalenda had been all but despondent when she had seen the CDF team getting ready to move out. If they left, that meant Organa Solo was gone, and she wasn’t coming back. And that meant all of Kalenda’s watching, all her waiting, all her worrying, all of the risks she had taken had been for nothing. She had not done the Chief of State a particle of good. She could have counted the number of army shoes produced by the Corona Footwear Company, divided by two to estimate the size of the army, and done more good for the New Republic.

  There was nothing left for her but to wait out the CDF, and make her own retreat once the coast was clear. She had no idea what she would do next. It was tough enough knowing all this had been for nothing.

  But then. Then she had seen Han Solo come back. And, somehow, she knew. Maybe it was that niggling little nubbin of Force potential she thought she might have. Maybe it was something in the way he seemed to look toward the villa where she was hiding. Maybe it was lack of sleep and she was hallucinating. But she was suddenly possessed of the absolute conviction that he knew that she was here, and that he had come back in order to make contact.

  Her heart pounded with excitement as she watched him get out of the hovercar, chat with the CDF guards, an
d shake a hand or two and say his thanks as he made his way into the house. Why else would he come back one more time? It had to be that he was here for her. It had to be.

  Kalenda settled herself in for one final vigil, the one that would pay for all. She watched as the last of the CDF agents packed up their gear, got into their ground cars and hovercars, and headed off into the darkness. She watched, her eyes glued to the macrobinoculars, for five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, giving the CDF agents plenty of time to remember something they had left behind and come back for it.

  At precisely the moment that she herself judged that enough time had passed, that the coast was clear and they weren’t coming back, a dot of ruby-red light appeared in an upper-story window of Solo’s villa. It flashed three times long, then there was a pause, three more long flashes, another pause, and another three longs.

  Mon Calamari blink code, carried by a very old-fashioned laser beam. Something utterly simple, incredibly crude. Something that every midshipman learned, something they bashed into your head at the NRI Academy. And something the CDF forces, with all their high-tech com gear and snooper systems, would be unlikely to detect at all, even if they did come back at exactly the wrong moment. And more to the point, something they would be unlikely to be able to read.

  BEET ME AT YR FRONT DR MUDNIGHZ, the sign read.

  Okay, so he was a little out of practice. But the intent was clear.

  And maybe her vigil had been worth it after all.

  * * *

  Kalenda saw him coming up the road, moving quietly, slowly, at just the pace of a fellow out for a late-evening stroll.

  She saw him pause, just a moment, at the path leading to her door. He looked around, making one last check for whoever else might have stayed behind to watch out there, and then he walked straight up the path to her door. She pulled it open just as he reached the porch, and he came in without breaking stride. She shut the door behind him, and gestured for him to follow her into the basement of the villa. He nodded and followed without speaking. In the unlikely event that someone was still watching, it would be that much tougher for a sound snooper or a spy beam to penetrate into underground, and besides, they could risk a light once the door to the upstairs was shut. She ushered him down the darkened stairs, closed the door, and hit the wall switch.