Star Wars: Dark Nest II: The Unseen Queen

by Troy Denning

Although Mara could hear their discussion over her own suit comm, she limited her response to the sharp sense of curiosity—it was almost suspicion—that Luke felt through their Force-bond. The idea of anyone, especially Alema Rar, sowing doubts about her in Luke’s mind angered Mara, but she was trying not to be hurt—at least until they reached someplace where Luke could explain himself in private.

  One of the StealthX’s floodlamps suddenly exploded in a brilliant burst of light, then sparks began to flash off the starfighter’s dark armor. A dozen forks of lightning lanced down from under the fuselage, and the repulsorlift drive began to emit a steady shower of sparks. The StealthX started to wobble

  Luke glanced back to see a line of pressure-suited Gorog swarming after them, pouring shatter gun fire into Mara’s craft.

  Mara opened fire with her laser cannons, filling the chamber with flashing light. The shatter gun fire dwindled off as the Gorog pursuers dived for cover or were blasted apart. Deciding the time had come to chance a meeting with Lomi Plo, Luke grabbed Juun by the shoulder and started toward the StealthX.

  Then the cannon fire began to dim and grow erratic, and he knew that Lomi Plo had returned to the starfighter. She was somewhere on the StealthX, draining its power again—or worse.

  Luke pushed Juun toward the hole through which they had entered the nest ship, then said, “Han, run for the breach!”

  He activated his lightsaber and Force-leapt onto the upper wing of the wobbling StealthX. He advanced behind his whirling blade, trying to force an attack from his unseen foe.

  The tactic succeeded almost too well. As he reached the engine next to the fuselage, Luke felt the Force moving his lightsaber down to block a knee strike. Then a loud thunk sounded in his helmet as a kick or elbow or something sent him cartwheeling off the nose of the craft.

  He reached out and caught hold of the engine cowling, then swung down in front of the lower wing.

  To his astonishment, Han was crawling onto the lower wing with Juun and Tarfang.

  “What are you doing?” Luke demanded. “I said run.”

  “You run,” Han said. “I’ll take the cover.”

  A series of shatter gun pellets punctuated Han’s point by sparking off the engine mount next to Luke’s head. He glanced back and saw that the Gorog swarm had renewed its charge. With the StealthX’s laser cannons out of commission, the Killiks were firing blindly around the starfighter, hitting whatever they could.

  Mara shut down her last functioning floodlamp and accelerated backward toward the hull breach, the StealthX wobbling wildly and nearly dragging its overloaded wing on the deck. Tarfang filled the suit comm with howls of fear—or maybe it was excitement. Juun simply stared wide-eyed at Luke, his legs flapping off the wingtip like a pair of orange streamers until Han pulled him the rest of the way up.

  Luke used the Force to do a twisting flip up onto the top of Mara’s canopy, then began to advance behind his whirling lightsaber again. It took only an instant before his blade intercepted Lomi Plo’s in another flurry of sparks. He pirouetted into a spinning hook kick that may as well have connected with pillar of durasteel. His foot stopped cold. Something hard smashed into his inner knee and sent pain lancing up his leg.

  Still unseen, Lomi started to push Luke off the other side of the canopy. Then Luke saw Han’s helmet and shoulders pop up behind her, and Mara’s lightsaber came sweeping across the fuselage at ankle height.

  Lomi stopped pushing. Sparks flashed as she blocked Han’s attack and sent Mara’s lightsaber skittering off the tail of the StealthX.

  Luke sprang forward, slashing for the place where Lomi’s midsection was sure to be, knowing that this was the death strike—then suddenly the StealthX was bucking and shuddering beneath him, and it was all he could do to Force-stick himself to the starfighter’s fuselage.

  “Hang on!” Luke yelled over the suit comm. “We’re going up!”

  The edge of a ruptured deck flashed past, followed by the breach in the vessel’s hull, and suddenly the StealthX was out in space, wobbling and listing a dozen meters above the nest ship.

  Han was still clinging to the wing with both hands, his legs floating free now that they had escaped the artificial gravity. Tarfang was clasping the barrel of a laser cannon with both hands, yowling wildly and fluttering his legs as though he were swimming.

  But Juun was spinning off into space, his arms grasping at the void, his feet kicking at nothing. Luke caught the Sullustan in the Force and began to pull him back toward the wobbling StealthX.

  Then his lightsaber began to flicker and fade, and a cold knot of danger sense formed between his shoulder blades. Luke did not even take the time to turn around. He simply stepped into a powerful back-stomp kick that caught his invisible attacker square in the chest.

  Even with the Force reinforcing it, the kick was not powerful enough to launch Lomi off the StealthX—but it did save Luke’s life. Her blade scraped across the equipment pod on the back of his vac suit, and he pivoted into the attack, bringing his arms around in a double block that first slammed, then trapped both of Lomi’s arms.

  Juun was still five meters from the StealthX, reaching for Tarfang’s fluttering boots.

  “Tarfang, hold still!” Luke ordered, using the Force to pull the Sullustan the rest of the way back to the wing. “My hands are full, and Juun needs . . . help!”

  Tarfang continued to kick, but Juun caught hold of a boot anyway. The Ewok glanced back, saw his captain hanging on to his boot, and finally obeyed.

  Something sharp and powerful smashed into the pit of Luke’s stomach, taking him by surprise, since he still had both of Lomi Plo’s arms trapped.

  Mara wheeled the StealthX around, going for the thermal vent, and Luke almost lost his balance. C-3PO and R2-D2 flashed by below. They were still standing where Han had left them, C-3PO’s photoreceptors following the StealthX as it passed overhead. One of Tarfang’s hands came loose, and for a moment the Ewok and Juun were hanging from the cannon barrel by one hand.

  Again, something sharp and powerful smashed Luke in the stomach—could it be a third elbow?—and this time it drove the air from his lungs. He kicked one of Lomi’s legs, twisting the two arms he did have under control, trying to wrest her lightsaber free.

  The third elbow slammed Luke another time. When he tried to fill his lungs again, it felt as if he were trying to suck down a chestful of gauze.

  Luke was out of air.

  He glanced at the status display inside his helmet and found only darkness. The slash across his equipment pod might have killed him after all. He tried one more time to wrench the lightsaber from Lomi Plo’s hands, but he was losing his strength.

  Then the gentle clunk of a launching shadow bomb pulsed through the fuselage. The StealthX bucked as they shot through the heat plume above the thermal vent. Lomi Plo immediately released her lightsaber and slammed Luke with a powerful Force shove, trying to rid herself of his grip so she could divert the bomb.

  Luke almost came free . . . until he hooked a leg around one of Lomi’s and slammed down on top of Mara’s astromech. He used the Force to stick himself in place, then saw Han across from him, holding on with one hand and aiming Tarfang’s blaster with the other. His lips seemed to be moving inside his helmet, but whatever he was saying remained unheard. Lomi’s slash had disabled Luke’s comm unit as well as his air recycler—or perhaps he was just slipping into unconsciousness.

  A brilliant flash lit space behind them, then Mara banked the StealthX around and Luke saw Tarfang and Juun, still hanging onto the cannon barrel, silhouetted against a huge column of flame. It died down for a moment, then suddenly shot up again as a secondary explosion shot out of the thermal vent. Had there been any air left in Luke’s lungs, he would have cried out in joy. At least they had disabled the Dark Nest’s hyperdrive.

  Mara stretched out to him through the Force, ordering him to hold on just a little longer. Luke was already doing just that. He could feel Leia and Kyp and the rest of the J
edi pilots touching him through the battle-meld, assuring him that help was close by. He began to calm his mind and his body, to slow his heartbeat and other natural processes in preparation for entering a Force-hibernation.

  Then an unseen weight settled astride his chest and invisible fingers began to scratch at his helmet, attempting to open the faceplate or break a seal. Luke lashed out as best he could, but he was starting to grow dizzy, and his reactions were slow and weak. He heard an ominous click behind his ear, near the faceplate hinge, and reached out with the Force, trying to shove his attacker off.

  Lomi shoved back, slamming his helmet into the top of Mara’s canopy. Energy bolts streamed past his head as Han opened fire with the blaster, and finally Lomi turned her attention to deflecting the attack.

  Mara urged Luke to hold on tight, and Han suddenly stopped firing. The StealthX flipped upside down, and Luke found himself looking down at the knobby hull of the nest ship, less than three meters away. He used the Force to pull himself even tighter to the fuselage, then glimpsed the blocky shape of a heat sink swelling in front of him. He tried not to waste his last breath on a scream.

  Whether Lomi Plo jumped or was scraped off as they passed, Luke could not say. But in the instant beforehand, he saw two bulbous green bug eyes staring down at him through the transparent face panel of a Killik pressure suit. They were set in a melted female face with no nose and a pair of stubby mandibles where there should have been lower jaws. Luke would have sworn that when the mandibles opened, he could see a smiling row of human teeth . . . or maybe his oxygen-starved mind was merely beginning to hallucinate.

  Then the weight vanished from inside his chest, too, and he was suddenly free of Lomi Plo, still using the Force to pin himself against the StealthX. He turned his head and saw Han wedged between the fuselage and the engine cowling, clinging to the shield generator mount with both hands, screaming something inside his helmet that Luke was just as glad he could not hear.

  Mara suddenly flipped the StealthX right-side up again. A flight of dartships went streaming past overhead, then wheeled back around to attack. A dozen propellant trails streaked from their bellies. Mara ducked behind a boulder, and an instant later a series of orange flashes lit the heavens on the other side.

  Luke’s vision began to darken around the edges. He glimpsed the Falcon streaking past above, her repulsor beam already stabbing out to send the dartships tumbling on their way, then felt Leia and Saba touch him through the Force, urging him to hold on just a little longer, telling him that the Falcon was coming right behind him. Finally, Luke’s vision went completely black.

  But he did not fall unconscious. He reached out to Mara and Leia and Kyp and all of the other Jedi, even to Han and Juun and Tarfang, and their strength held him out of the abyss.

  EPILOGUE

  Outside the viewport hung eleven distant nest ships, a string of dark dots silhouetted against the sapphire curtain of the Utegetu Nebula. They were blocking the Murgo Choke, as though the Killiks believed that the small task force of cruisers and frigates with which the battered Mon Mothma had returned actually intended to launch an assault. Han fancied that he could even see a dark blur where the screen of dartfighters was deployed in front of the bug fleet. Their caution was somewhat reassuring, suggesting as it did a certain military naÏveté. No commander in his right mind would attack the bugs’ fleet with anything less than a three-to-one Star Destroyer advantage, and it would be weeks before the Alliance could assemble a battle group of that size.

  Han only hoped that some genius on the general staff did not get the bright idea of trying to hold the bugs off with a couple of StealthX squadrons. So far, there was no indication that either Jaina or Jacen was anywhere near this mess—and that was just fine with him. They had both faced more death and treachery in their young lives than any ten Jedi should ever have to.

  The door to the briefing room whispered open, and Han turned to see Gavin Darklighter emerging, his dress whites slightly rumpled after the long session inside. He paused long enough to run a hand through his dark hair, then he let out a deep breath and came to stand with Han.

  When he didn’t say anything, Han asked, “Any word?”

  “Bwua’tu is still asking questions,” Darklighter said. “He’s fair for a Bothan, and your statement did a lot to exonerate them both. But I couldn’t get a read on how he’s going to handle having the Ackbar commandeered. Juun and Tarfang are a pretty convenient-looking pair of scapegoats.”

  Han nodded. “I figured that, but I was asking if you had heard anything about Luke.” He gestured toward the guards at the lift station. “They won’t let me leave the deck until I’m dismissed by Bwua’tu, and medbay is too busy—”

  The lift doors started to open, and Luke’s voice said, “We’re fine, Han.” He stepped into the corridor with Mara at his side. He looked as pale as a shaved wampa, but seemed alert enough and steady on his feet. “I told you that aboard the Falcon.”

  “No, what you said was ‘ooormmgg fffff,’ ” Han said, flashing a crooked smile. “Then you passed out.”

  “Did I?” Luke asked half seriously. “I don’t remember.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Han said. “I don’t suppose the EmDee droids let you see Leia before you came up here?”

  “Better than that,” Mara said. She stepped aside, and Leia and Saba emerged from the rear of the lift. “They told us they needed the bed.”

  After the fight with Alema and her bugs, Leia’s face was still swollen and so swaddled in bacta wrap that she looked like a Tusken bride. But the sight of her lifted Han’s heart as it had not been lifted since the births of Anakin and the twins, and he went to her and took her hands—at least the one that wasn’t in a cast—in his.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  Leia smiled—then winced. “You need to get your eyes checked, flyboy.”

  “Nope.” Han kissed her on the lips . . . very, very gently. “I’m seeing better than ever.”

  Saba slapped her tail against the deck, then rolled her eyes and walked away sissing.

  “Yes, well, we’re glad to see both of you well again,” Darklighter said. He motioned Leia toward a couch near the viewport, then turned to the guards stationed in front of the briefing room. “Inform Admiral Bwua’tu that Master Skywalker is available to make a statement.”

  The guard acknowledged the order with a salute, then disappeared through the sliding door.

  “Thank you, Gavin,” Luke said. “Juun and Tarfang risked their lives trying to warn the fleet about what was in those statues. I owe it to them to make certain Admiral Bwua’tu understands that.”

  “Han has already made a report,” Darklighter said. “But hearing your account will certainly add weight to it.”

  Luke nodded, then went to the viewport and looked out at the string of nest ships. “How bad is it?”

  “Not as bad as it could have been,” Darklighter said. “The Killiks got out with four nest ships and the Ackbar, but the Dark Nest’s ship is still here—along with ten others. I’ll do what I can to make sure that the Jedi receive the credit they deserve in the official report to Chief Omas.”

  “Thank you,” Luke said. “That will go a long way toward rebuilding the trust between us. We’re going to need that, if we’re going to prevent this from erupting into a full-scale war.”

  Darklighter looked uncomfortable. “I’m afraid we’re running out of time for that, Master Skywalker.”

  “Chief Omas has already decided to go to war?” Leia asked.

  “Not Omas,” Darklighter said. “A courier arrived for Admiral Bwua’tu a short while ago. The Chiss are claiming that a group of Jedi launched a preemptive strike against one of their supply depots.”

  “That’s impossible,” Luke said quickly. “Jedi don’t launch preemptive strikes!”

  “Then a handful of Jedi loaned their StealthXs to some Killiks,” Darklighter said. “The Chiss sent along a security holo from one of the ammunition dumps that was take
n out. It shows a pair of StealthXs pretty clearly. And Jagged Fel seems convinced that one of the pilots was Jaina. He claims he recognizes her flying style.”

  “Jaina?” Han slapped his forehead. “Why would she do something like that?”

  “That’s what the Chiss would like to know,” Darklighter replied. “Nobody was killed—and that convinces me that it was Jedi—so the Chiss aren’t treating the attack as an act of war. But they are taking it as proof that they need to handle the Killiks themselves. They’ve declared the Qoribu Truce violated and are preparing to launch an assault to push the Colony back.”

  Han shook his head. “Jaina knows the Chiss better than anyone,” he said. “She’d know how they would respond to a preemptive strike. Something stinks about that report.”

  “Actually, the preemptive strike can be a very sound tactic,” a gravelly Bothan voice said. “Especially if you are trying to provoke a response.”

  Han looked over to see Bwua’tu stepping out of the briefing room. Juun and Tarfang followed a pace behind, their chests puffed out and smug grins on their faces.

  “That’s what I mean,” Han said. “Jaina and Zekk are practically bugs themselves! She’d never do anything to make the Chiss launch a major attack against the Colony.”

  “I’d like to take your word for it, Captain Solo,” Bwua’tu said, going to the viewport. “After all, you know your daughter better than I.”

  The admiral stared out at the nest ships in contemplative silence, then spoke without looking away from the viewport.

  “Commodore Darklighter, have the task force launch all fighter squadrons and deploy in attack formation.”

  Darklighter’s jaw dropped even farther than Han’s. “Attack formation, sir?”

  “You may choose which one, Commodore,” Bwua’tu said. “I don’t believe it will matter.”

  Darklighter made no move to obey. “May I remind the admiral that we barely have a ten-ship advantage over the Killiks, and that most of our vessels are significantly outclassed?”

  “You just did.” Bwua’tu turned to glare at Darklighter. “After the Ackbar’s capture, I may not be in command of the Fifth Fleet much longer. But until I am relieved, you will obey my orders. Is that clear, Commodore?”