Star Wars: Dark Nest II: The Unseen Queen

by Troy Denning

  It was Tahiri, of course, who brought up the question that Jacen felt sure was nagging them all. “If the Dark Nest is causing all this trouble, why aren’t we going after it?”

  “Two reasons,” Jacen said. “First, that’s what Master Durron and his squad will end up doing, after they get Dad and Uncle Luke back.”

  “And second?” Tesar asked.

  “We’re either going to be in the middle of the war with the Chiss or stopping it,” Jacen said. “The Dark Nest will be coming to us soon enough.”

  Jaina and Zekk nodded at this, then the group fell silent and studied each other for a few moments.

  Finally, Jaina asked, “When do we leave?”

  Jacen thought for a moment, running through different ways to furtively deactivate the barrier field—which had been raised again after his skiff entered the hangar—then pointed at the six nearest StealthXs. “We’ll take those.”

  FIFTEEN

  The pearly light had drained from the outer walls of their prison three hours earlier, and still Luke sensed no hint of Juun and Tarfang’s approach. Maybe the Ewok had convinced his Sullustan captain that Han was swindling them, or maybe the pair had decided they were in so much trouble they would be better off just running and hiding. Maybe Raynar had learned of their plans and imprisoned them, too. All Luke knew for sure was that DR919a should have signaled them more than two hours ago, and they were still waiting.

  “You going to move that savrip or what, Skywalker?” Han asked.

  “What’s the hurry?” Luke asked, pretending to study the hologrammic dejarik board R2-D2 was projecting between their stools. “It’s not like we’re going anyplace.”

  Han’s eyes finally left the game. “That’s no excuse to bore me to death,” he said. “Besides, the time will go faster if you keep your mind on the game. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”

  It was clear to both Luke and Han that they were talking about their escape plans and not the game, but that was as close to relax, they’re coming, as Han could say aloud. Luke had sent the X-wing replica—and the Gorog spies it contained—back to Raynar, and a Saras guard had immediately taken up residence inside their cells. Even now, it was hovering behind Luke, watching the dejarik game with great interest.

  Luke spent a moment actually studying the game, then said to R2-D2, “Leave my savrip where it is. Have my closest grimtassh attack Han’s ghhhk, then make a surprise-kill attack on his houjix.”

  “Oh, my—that is quite an unorthodox move,” C-3PO said. “Are you sure you want to do it, Master Skywalker? If you defeat the ghhhk and take the surprise attack on Captain Solo’s houjix—”

  “Butt out, chiphead,” Han growled. He turned to R2-D2. “What are you waiting for? You heard the man.”

  Luke barely noticed as his grimtassh hopped over to Han’s ghhhk and took its place on the board. From what he could feel in the Force, Mara and Leia were fairly close to the Utegetu Nebula, but Mara had dropped into a deep Force-hibernation, and Leia seemed frustrated and impatient. Clearly, the Falcon had been delayed on her return trip, and Luke’s patience with his “detention” had come to an end. If Juun and Tarfang did not show up soon, he was going to break out and go hunting for them.

  Han sent a k’lor’slug over to assault the savrip Luke had neglected to move out of harm’s way, then scowled at R2-D2 when the attack failed.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded. “That was from behind! It’s automatic.”

  “There are no automatic victories in dejarik,” C-3PO said helpfully. “Even rear attacks have a one in ten thousand probability of failure.”

  “And Artoo expects me to believe he just happened to generate a failure when Luke makes a vac-headed move like that?”

  R2-D2 emitted a defensive whistle.

  “He says that Master Luke is distracted,” C-3PO said. “He needs a handicap.”

  “I’m not that distracted,” Luke said. “Do it over, Artoo—and use standard probabilities.”

  R2-D2 let out an annoyed whistle, then Luke’s savrip vanished and was replaced by Han’s k’lor’slug.

  “That’s more like it,” Han said. “Now pay attention, Skywalker. The game is about to get interesting.”

  Luke barely watched as Han’s k’lor’slug slinked over to attack his monnok. He was trying to connect the Falcon’s delay to Alema’s attempts to make him doubt Mara. Clearly, the Dark Nest was trying to drive a wedge between him and his wife, probably to punish her for killing Daxar Ies. But he was beginning to suspect that there was another reason—that the attacks were also directed against him in some subtle way he had yet to understand.

  “Luke?” Han said. “It’s your move.”

  Luke looked up to find Han smirking at him across the hologram. Han had succeeded in taking control of the center of the board and now had Luke’s ghhhk encircled, with no hope of escape.

  “Artoo, have my strider retreat to the edge of the board.”

  “Retreat?” Han scowled. “You’re sacrificing the ghhhk?”

  R2-D2 whistled gleefully and did as Luke instructed, leaving Han’s pieces almost alone in the middle of the board. Once Han took the ghhhk, he would be stuck with all his pieces facing center and no surprise-kill attacks available to change orientation. Luke, meanwhile, was scattered around the edge of the board, able to attack any of Han’s pieces from behind.

  Han took one look and kicked the hologram. Of course, all that happened was that his boot came down in the middle of the game.

  “You sandbagged me again!” Han accused. “You were paying attention the whole time.”

  Luke shrugged. “Dejarik is an old Jedi game.” As he spoke, Luke finally sensed the familiar presences of Juun and Tarfang streaking across Saras nest toward their prison. “Are we going to play it out?”

  Han must have sensed Luke’s rising excitement, because when Luke looked up, there was a glint in Han’s eye that could not possibly have come from the belief that he could win.

  “You bet,” Han said. “I’ve still got a three-piece . . .”

  Han let his sentence trail off as the guard suddenly stepped away from Luke and began to drum its thorax.

  “Saras is ordering us to move away from the wall,” C-3PO reported. “She seems to believe we’re trying to—”

  Luke sprang from his stool, already bringing his foot around in a crescent kick that sent the Killik stumbling into the wall. Han was on the insect before it could catch its balance, slamming his stool down across the back of its head with chitin-cracking force.

  “—escape,” C-3PO finished. He studied the unconscious Killik with a cocked head for a moment, then turned to Luke. “Pardon me, Master Skywalker, but are we making our escape attempt now?”

  “No,” Han growled. “We just thought we’d have some fun beating up our guards.”

  “Oh.” C-3PO straightened his head. “In that case, you’re going to have quite an exciting time. Saras was trying to tell you that there is a whole company of reinforcements coming up the ramp.”

  Luke and Han exchanged glances, then Han said, “I’ll take ’em.” He hefted his stool, then went into his own room and turned toward the hatch. “You just get that wall open.”

  Luke followed Han and went to the wall where he had been having R2-D2 scratch X’s. He used his finger to connect four sets of X’s together, tracing an imaginary asterisk on the wall.

  By this time, the Saras reinforcements had arrived outside the cell. Luke could hear them snipping and ripping away the outer seal of the hatch, and he could see their silhouettes through the translucent wall, backlit by green shine-balls. They appeared to be holding Verpine shatter guns and electrobolt assault rifles.

  “I’ve got it under control, Skywalker,” Han said, sensing Luke’s concern without having to turn around. “Just get that hole open.”

  The wall in Luke’s room brightened with the blue glow of an exterior spotlight.

  “Master Skywalker,” C-3PO began. “I believe Capta
in Juun has arrived, and he seems to be signaling—”

  “The wrong room, I know.” Luke placed his palm in the center of the asterisk he had traced in Han’s room, then began to pulse rapidly outward with the Force, setting up a kinetic vibration that would weaken the spinglass. “You and Artoo stand behind me.”

  “Behind you?” C-3PO asked. “I don’t see what good that will do.”

  “Threepio!” There was a dull thump as Han smashed the stool into the head of the first Killik attempting to push through the hatch. “Just do it!”

  “There’s no need to shout, Captain Solo.” C-3PO gestured to R2-D2, then went to stand where Luke had instructed. “I was merely going to point out that Captain Juun won’t be extending the boarding ramp in the proper place.”

  “That’s okay.” Luke assumed a formal punching stance in front of the asterisk he had scratched. “We’ll improvise.”

  He summoned as much Force energy as he could into himself, then drew his arm back and slammed a palm-heel into the center of the asterisk. His hand drove through the spinglass almost effortlessly, shattering it along the stress lines R2-D2 had etched into the wall.

  Outside was the blocky, carbon-scored hull of Juun’s Ronto-class transport, hovering twenty meters off the ground, with a boarding ramp butted against the wall outside Luke’s room. A dark Ewok head peered out of the ship’s hatch and began to jabber at Luke.

  “Of all the audacity!” C-3PO said, peering around the side of the hole. “Tarfang says we made our hole in the wrong place. The DR-Nine-one-nine-a isn’t going to move!”

  A flurry of sharp plinking sounds broke out behind them as the Saras guards began to fire through the hatch wall with their shatter guns.

  “Go!” Han turned away from the hatch and crossed the tiny room in two bounds. “Go nowwwww!”

  Luke barely caught hold of Han’s belt as he flew past. He pushed off the side of the hole, Force-leaping onto the DR919a’s boarding ramp. As they balanced there, shatter gun pellets began thunk into the hull beside them, creating a circle of fist-sized dents just three meters away.

  “Blast!” Han turned to look back toward their prison. “That was too close—”

  Han’s exclamation came to a startled end as the DR919a began to bank away, the boarding ramp retracting with them still on it. He whirled toward the hatch and began to curse out Tarfang, but Luke did not hear what he said. C-3PO had appeared in the hole, pulling R2-D2 along by the astromech’s grasper arm.

  “Master Skywalker! Wait! Please don’t—”

  The droid’s upper body abruptly flew forward, and he tumbled out of the hole, pulling R2-D2 along behind him.

  “—ussss beeehinnnn—”

  Luke extended a hand and caught the two droids in the Force, then nearly fell himself when the end of the ramp retracted into its stowage slot.

  “Whoa!” Han grabbed Luke’s arm and pulled him through the hatch. “You okay?”

  “Of course not!” This from C-3PO, who was floating along with R2-D2 a couple of meters below the hatch. “I’ve been badly wounded! My systems might deactivate at any moment!”

  Han guided Luke’s free hand over to a grab bar inside the hatch, then knelt down to help the droids as Luke pulled them up with the Force. Once everyone was safely inside the DR919a, Han closed the hatch.

  Juun’s voice immediately came over the intercom. “Secure yourselves back there! I’m pushing the throttles to seventy percent!”

  Han took a deep breath and looked genuinely scared. “May the Force be with us!”

  A moment later, the DR919a shuddered and began to accelerate sluggishly. Han put his ear to the hull and listened for a moment, then sighed in relief and turned to inspect C-3PO’s damage.

  “Relax, Goldenrod,” Han said. “It’s an arm hit. You’ve got a few shorts and you’ve spilled a lot of hydraulic fluid, but you’re not going to deactivate anytime soon.”

  C-3PO turned to Luke. “I’d feel much better if you would check me over, Master Skywalker. You know how Captain Solo always underestimates these things.”

  Han rolled his eyes but stood aside so Luke could have a look. There was a fist-sized hole in the back of the droid’s arm, and dozens of internal wires had been cut, along with both hydraulic tubes. But none of that was going to be a problem—there weren’t any critical systems in the limb.

  “Han’s right,” Luke reported. “Just disable all functions in your right arm, and you’ll be fine.”

  “What a relief!” C-3PO said. “After all I’ve been through, I thought I was headed for the scrap heap for certain.”

  R2-D2 whistled a gentle reproach.

  “I’m hardly exaggerating,” C-3PO said. “You have no idea what it’s like to be wounded.”

  R2-D2 tweeted a contradiction.

  “You do?” Luke gasped. He knelt beside the droid. “Where?”

  R2-D2 spun his dome around, revealing a puncture the size of three fingers. When Luke peered into the hole, he saw Han’s eye looking at him from the other side.

  “That can’t be good,” Han said.

  R2-D2 trilled a long reply.

  “What do you mean it’s not too bad?” C-3PO demanded. “Being unable to see is very bad!”

  Tarfang threw a sympathetic arm around R2-D2’s casing and started to guide the droid forward, keeping up a reassuring jabber as they moved.

  “Thank you, Tarfang, but a visit to the Squibs really won’t be necessary,” C-3PO said, following along. “I assure you, Master Skywalker can afford to buy the finest new replacement parts.”

  They came to the DR919a’s flight deck. Extremely basic, it was little more than the forward end of the main deck with a couple of Sullustan-sized swivel chairs bolted in front of an instrument console. The viewport was barely large enough to justify the name, with the blue curtain of the Utegetu Nebula stretched across the micropitted transparisteel and the cragged peak of one of Woteba’s high mountains protruding up in the foreground.

  “Welcome aboard.” Juun did not look away from his instruments as he spoke. “I’m sorry we were late, but the Saras are evacuating their nest, and the Squibs wanted us to pick up a load from the replica factory.”

  “Evacuating their nest?” Luke gasped.

  “Yes, it’s half empty already,” Juun said. “They’re surrendering it all to the Fizz.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Luke said.

  “Me either!” Han agreed. “I think they were going to leave us!”

  “We wouldn’t have left you, Captain Solo,” Juun assured him. “We just had to avoid drawing suspicion. Now please take your seats and buckle in. Saras is sending a swarm of dartships after us.”

  Luke ignored the instructions and peered over the Sullustan’s shoulder at the navigation display. It was filled with static, but a swirling mass of tiny dark dashes did seem to be rising from an amorphous blob of lights that might have been Saras nest.

  “Can you outrun them?”

  Tarfang barked something indignant, then waved a furry hand toward the passengers’ seats at the rear of the deck.

  “Of course—they’re only rockets,” C-3PO translated. “And the copilot reminds you to take your seats as Captain Juun instructed.”

  “In a second,” Han said. He was squatting next to the copilot’s seat, studying the navicomputer. “Hey, Jae, how come we’re not jumping to the Murgo Choke?”

  “There’s a blockade,” Juun answered. “We’ll have to use the Mott’s Nostril.”

  “The Mott’s’s Nostril?” Han objected. “That dumps us—”

  “Hold on, Han.”

  Luke stood upright, then clasped his hands behind his back and thought for a moment, trying again to connect the Falcon’s delay to Alema’s attempts to make him doubt his wife. Maybe the Dark Nest had just been trying to buy time, to keep him busy thinking about her instead of what was happening in the Utegetu Nebula.

  Finally, Luke said, “I want to hear more about this blockade.”


  “Now?” Juun asked. “I’d be happy to tell you about it after we’re safely away from the dartships.”

  Han frowned. “Tarfang said we could outrun them.”

  “Because we have a good head start,” Juun said. “But if we don’t jump soon, they’ll catch us.”

  “Then please don’t waste any more time arguing,” Luke said. “Tell me about the blockade. This is important.”

  Juun let out a long breath, flapping his cheek folds in dismay. “The Galactic Alliance has blockaded the Utegetu Nebula. They’re trying to prove that they’re on the Chiss’s side,” he said quickly. “Okay? Can we jump now?”

  Han ignored the question. “Don’t tell me,” he said. “The Colony is already expanding into the frontier again.”

  Tarfang chattered a few lines.

  “Tarfang doesn’t see why we’re surprised,” C-3PO reported. “What did the Jedi expect to happen when they cheated the Colony?”

  “Who, exactly, is blockading the nebula?” Luke asked Juun. “The Fifth Fleet?”

  Juun’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess,” Han said. “And this would be the same Fifth Fleet you delivered that cargo of spinglass to?”

  Juun nodded—slowly. “I guess so.”

  Han and Luke looked at each other slowly, then Han dropped to his knees beside the navicomputer.

  “I’ll set a course for the Choke.”

  “No.” Luke shook his head. “So far, the Dark Nest has been playing us all like a bunch of Kloo horns, and the only way we’re going to change that is find them and figure out what they wanted with all that reactor fuel and hyperdrive coolant.”

  Han sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “As was I,” C-3PO agreed. “Perhaps it would be a good idea to drop off the wounded before you continue. Surely, R2-D2 and I won’t be of much use to you in our condition, and we might slow you down.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Luke said. “You won’t even have to get off the ship.”

  Han looked from the navicomputer to Juun. “Any idea where we should look?”