Tempest: Star Wars (Legacy of the Force) (Star Wars: Legacy of the Force)

by Troy Denning

  “That … way.” Han was sweating with pain and unable to move his wounded shoulder, but he refused to go back to the medical bay until they were a safe distance away from Telkur Station. He glanced back toward Lady Morwan, who was sitting behind Leia at the navigator’s station, then added, “We’re heading back to the Interior?”

  “Correct,” Morwan replied. Her voice grew a little louder as she addressed the rest of her reply to the back of Leia’s head. “I hope that won’t be an inconvenience, Princess.”

  “Not at all.” Leia turned the yoke in the direction Han had indicated and caught him watching the S-thread display, no doubt checking signal strength. Once they figured out whom Lady Morwan was working for, they would need to access the HoloNet and pass the intelligence on as quickly as possible. “We’re entirely at your service. We’ve been operating on our own initiative since the first assassination attempt failed.”

  “Assassination.” Morwan’s voice held a definite tone of remorse as she repeated the word. “Depose sounds so much better … but I suppose assassination is more honest, isn’t it? If the Council didn’t want the Queen Mother killed, it wouldn’t have hired Aurra Sing.”

  The name made Leia lift her brow. She knew from historical records that Aurra Sing had been a ruthless killer of Jedi Knights during the Old Republic. Before she could ask if that was Nashtah’s real name, Han twisted around to look squarely at Morwan.

  “Don’t tell me you’re growing a conscience all of a sudden?”

  “I’m as dedicated to the Consortium’s independence as you are to Corellia’s.” Morwan’s voice had grown just cold enough to show her displeasure at being questioned by a man. “That doesn’t mean I relish the deaths of the Queen Mother and the Chume’da.”

  “Of course not,” Leia said. She glanced at Morwan’s reflection in the canopy, wondering the same thing she knew Han was: were Morwan’s misgivings strong enough to make her change sides and simply reveal the identity of the coup organizers? “Decisions like these are never easy.”

  “Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” C-3PO offered. “If you’re talking about the woman who accompanied us on our escape from Fountain Palace, I have some data suggesting she couldn’t possibly be Aurra Sing.”

  “Just because she said her name was Nashtah doesn’t mean it was,” Han said. “If that’s your data, forget it.”

  “I’m well acquainted with the use of aliases, Captain Solo,” C-3PO replied. “Why, I have an entire sector of memory dedicated to the identities you and Princess Leia have assumed.”

  “We’re more interested in Aurra Sing,” Leia said. “If Lady Morwan says she was, I’m inclined to believe her.”

  “I’m afraid Lady Morwan must be mistaken,” C-3PO said. “According to the records Master Skywalker found aboard the Chu’unthor, Aurra Sing was a nine-year-old Jedi trainee who was captured by pirates more than seventy-five standard years ago. She seems to have felt rather betrayed by the Jedi order’s failure to rescue her, because she returned years later as a bounty hunter who specialized in hunting and killing Jedi. She was finally captured by Jedi Aayla Secura, then imprisoned in the penal colony on Oovo Four. There is no record of her release.”

  “Maybe that’s because there are no records from Oovo Four,” Han replied. “When the Yuuzhan Vong leveled the place, they were incinerated along with the guards, the confinement domes, and probably most of the prisoners.”

  “Perhaps,” C-3PO replied. “But the warden was an excellent administrator. He maintained an offworld backup—”

  “Threepio, Han’s trying to say there wouldn’t be a release record,” Leia explained. The crescent of stars that Han had pointed out was in the center of the canopy now, shining through the black curtain of the Transitory Mists like a tipped smile. “If Aurra Sing escaped during the attack, there would have been no one left to report it.”

  C-3PO fell silent for a moment, then said, “Oh. I hadn’t considered that.”

  “I am curious about how you chose Aurra,” Leia said. “She’s hardly a well-known killer of Jedi anymore.”

  “And even if she was, this isn’t the kind of job you’d look up an eighty-year-old woman for,” Han pointed out.

  “Actually, she found me,” Morwan explained. “When the Heritage Council assigned me to find someone capable of removing the Queen Mother from her throne, I began by assembling a history of known Jedi deaths. When I came across the story of Aurra Sing, I decided to research her as well, hoping to learn something that would help me choose my assassin wisely.

  “I must have tripped an alarm gate,” she continued. “Sing showed up a couple of weeks later, demanding to know why I was investigating her. After that, it was hire or die.”

  “Sounds like you didn’t have much choice,” Han said sympathetically. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re having second thoughts now.”

  “I’m not.” Morwan’s tone grew defensive. “But I don’t see why you are so concerned about my feelings, Captain Solo. I’m not even a member of the Council. The coup will go on no matter how I feel.”

  “Okay—don’t get all touchy on me.” Han turned forward again, grunting as the motion aggravated his wound. “I’m just trying to figure out who set us up at the palace, that’s all.”

  “It wasn’t me.” Morwan stood and stepped between the pilot’s and copilot’s seats, then gently slipped a hand under Han’s injured arm. “Time for you to go to medbay.”

  “Not yet.” Han tried to pull his arm free, but managed only to cause himself so much pain that he gasped. “Not until we’re in the Interior.”

  “By the time we reach the Interior, you may have an infection,” Morwan said. Clearly unaccustomed to hearing no from a mere man, she continued to pull, slowly drawing Han to his feet. “And the way your arm won’t move isn’t good. The blaster wound may have fused—Are you insane?”

  This last remark Morwan screeched as the barrel of Han’s blaster suddenly appeared beneath her nose.

  “No means no,” Han warned. “Didn’t your mother teach you that?”

  Morwan released his arm but refused to back down. “You aren’t that tough, Captain Solo. When the numb-spray wears off, you’ll be screaming in pain.”

  “Probably,” Leia said. “And he’ll be sitting right there doing it. I’ve met rontos who aren’t as stubborn.”

  Morwan turned to Leia, her mouth agape in surprise. “And you put up with that?”

  “I have a shock collar,” Leia replied, “but it just makes him drool.”

  Morwan’s brow shot up in alarm. “Be careful. Turning it up that high may affect his performance …” She finally seemed to realize Leia was joking and let the sentence trail off. “Please forgive me. It’s sometimes hard to remember that the rest of the galaxy has a more tolerant view of men.”

  “Sometimes, I find it hard to believe myself.” Scowling at Han’s blaster, Leia assumed the high-pitched voice a mother might use with a child. “Han, dear, why don’t you put that nasty blaster away? Maybe See-Threepio will take the lady back to the medbay and help her find some bacta salve and bandages, and then you can stay in the cockpit with the grown-ups.”

  “All right—you don’t have to go all sarcastic on me.” Han holstered his blaster, then dropped back into the copilot’s seat and winced. “I was just trying to make a point.”

  “You’ve succeeded beyond your wildest dreams, Captain Solo,” Morwan said. “Next time, please feel free to yell.”

  She turned away and followed C-3PO down the access corridor. Once the protocol droid’s metallic steps had died away, Han leaned closer to Leia and spoke in a soft voice. “Once we know who she’s working for—”

  “—we need to access the HoloNet and see that our intelligence reaches Tenel Ka,” Leia finished. “I know.”

  “Good. Because we might not have much—”

  “—time,” Leia finished again. “I know, Han. Maybe you should activate the medbay monitoring cam.”

  Han lowered hi
s brow. “Not yet. No one’s sticking me in medbay until we’ve handled—”

  “It’s not you I want to watch,” Leia said. “What if Lady Morwan isn’t using her real name?”

  “Oh—yeah.” Han settled back into the copilot’s chair and activated the medbay cam. “I guess a picture could be kind of useful.”

  “Kind of,” she said in a wry voice.

  Given even a moderately clear image, Leia felt certain that the Hapan Intelligence Service—one of the finest in the galaxy—would be able to identify Morwan and her superiors.

  Han brought the medbay feed up on his display. “Great—Threepio’s blocking the angle.”

  Leia glanced over to find the golden droid standing in front of Morwan, his head canted sideways as he pointed to a drawer. On the bunk was a tray where she was gathering supplies.

  “Be patient,” Leia said. “She’ll lean into view when she opens the salve drawer.”

  Han grunted an acknowledgment and slumped back in his seat, looking more exhausted and discouraged than he had in years. It was as though all the struggle and loss they had endured through four decades of service to the galaxy had finally grown too heavy for even Han Solo to bear.

  Leia reached over and touched his arm. “How are you doing?”

  “Don’t worry about me.” He nodded at the crescent of stars outside the canopy. It was growing larger and more distinct by the moment, the black edges of the Transitory Mists seeming to pull away more quickly as the Falcon drew nearer. “I just need to hold on another ten minutes. Once we’re in the mouth of that passage, we’ll have a good signal.”

  “I’m not talking about your shoulder, Han. I mean, how are you doing?” With Nashtah—or rather, Aurra Sing—a constant presence since the failed assassination attempt, this was the first chance they’d had to talk over their decision to protect Tenel Ka, and Leia wanted to be sure Han realized what it would mean for Corellia. “No matter how you look at it, we’re working against Corellia’s interests here. I can sense how that troubles you.”

  Han frowned, and Leia thought he was about to object for the thousandth time to having his “mind read” by his own wife. Instead, he let out a weary sigh and dropped his chin in frustration.

  “It’s not what we’re doing that bothers me,” he said. “It’s Gejjen. I hate being played.”

  Leia nodded sympathetically. “Me, too—but this is bigger than our feelings. If we’re doing this just because Gejjen played us, we’re doing it for the wrong reasons. I’m sure he felt he had no other choice. Corellia is in a desperate situation.”

  “Desperate doesn’t matter,” Han said. He turned to face her. “When you let me talk you into this—way back when we still had a life on Coruscant—Corellia was supposed to be in the right.”

  “We agreed Corellia was entitled to her independence,” Leia said cautiously. “But she had to declare herself totally independent. She couldn’t demand the benefits of Alliance membership without obeying Alliance law.”

  “Right,” Han said, barely paying attention. “But Thrackan was playing games from the start, building secret fleets and trying to reactivate Centerpoint. And now Gejjen used us to try to expand the war.”

  “What are you saying, Han?” Leia studied his pupils, looking for dilation or disparate size or some other sign that he needed another stim-shot to keep him out of shock. “That we should go back to the Alliance?”

  Han looked at her as though she had just asked him to step through an air lock naked. “And help Omas choke the last dregs of independence out of the galaxy?” His face grew angry. “No way. He doesn’t get to use Corellia as an excuse for that.”

  “Okay—so what do you want to do?”

  Han shrugged the one shoulder he could still move. “I think we’re doing it, Leia.”

  “You’re sure?” Leia already knew the answer—Han was never unsure about anything—but she wanted to hear him say it. “You know that keeping the Consortium out of the war might be the difference between survival and defeat for Corellia.”

  A defiant light came to Han’s eye. “Don’t underestimate Wedge. Niathal hasn’t seen tricky until—”

  “I’m not saying Corellia doesn’t have a chance, Han,” Leia interrupted. “Just that it’s a small one—and we’re about to make it smaller.”

  “Yeah, but what choice do we have? Let Gejjen arrange the assassination of Tenel Ka and a four-year-old kid?” Han shook his head sharply. “I don’t want Corellia to win her freedom that way. If she can’t do it without dragging Hapes and the rest of the galaxy into a big civil war, she shouldn’t do it at all.”

  “I guess you are sure,” Leia said.

  “You aren’t?”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” Leia said. “I’m fine with this.”

  Han looked confused. “Then why are we talking it to death?” He turned back to his display and remained silent a moment, then spoke in a sad voice. “I just wish somebody in this galaxy could be trusted.”

  “Somebody can.” Leia smiled. “I’m sitting next to him.”

  A look of mild surprise flashed across Han’s face, but he continued to watch his display and pretended not to hear. Even after all he had done to help overthrow the Emperor and win the war against the Yuuzhan Vong, he still refused to think of himself as one of the good guys. In his mind, Leia suspected, good guy was just too close to sucker.

  On the display, Morwan finally leaned out from behind C-3PO, presenting a clear profile as she reached for the salve drawer. Han captured the image, then another of her full face as she turned to ask 3PO a question. The droid pointed at another drawer, and from this one Morwan pulled a sonic scalpel.

  Han sat up straight. “What’s that for?”

  “Probably to cut away dead tissue,” Leia said.

  “Up here?”

  “You aren’t giving her much choice,” Leia said. “I wouldn’t worry about it. From what I’ve seen so far, she knows her combat medicine.”

  “Great,” Han said. “She’ll know right were to cut when she slits my throat.”

  Leia lowered her chin, giving him a don’t-be-ridiculous look. “With a Jedi and two Noghri aboard?”

  Han considered this a moment, then said, “She’s still not getting near me with that scalpel. You know how she feels about men.”

  “It has to be done, or you could develop a necrotic infection,” Leia said. “I’m pretty sure you can trust Lady Morwan, but you can always ask Threepio to do it instead.”

  “Thanks,” Han grumbled. “I’d rather kiss a Hutt.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Leia replied quickly. “Take it from me.”

  On Han’s display, Morwan finally picked up the supply tray and started forward again. Han saved the images he had captured, then deactivated the monitoring cam and replaced the image on his display with a drive nacelle temperature readout.

  Once he had finished, Han leaned toward Leia again. “You know, maybe you’re right about trusting Morwan,” he said quietly. “She’s not exactly happy about killing Tenel Ka and Allana. Maybe we could convince her—”

  “Not going to happen,” Leia said, cutting him off. “She’s a true believer in Consortium independence. She may regret the necessities of the coup, but we’ll never talk her into betraying the ringleaders.”

  Han dropped back into his chair, exhaling in frustration. “So we’re back to doing this the hard way.”

  “I’m afraid so,” Leia said. “We keep playing spies.”

  C-3PO’s metallic steps rang up the access corridor, punctuating the sharp tones of Morwan’s indignant voice.

  “I’m a field surgeon by training, Threepio,” she was saying. “I think I can remember how to use an irrigation bulb.”

  “I’m certain you can,” C-3PO replied. “It’s really quite simple, as long as you use the proper antibiotic.”

  “I know, Threepio,” Morwan said. “Does the Alliance program all its male-pattern droids to be as condescending as you are?”

  “I�
��m afraid your question is based on an erroneous assumption, Lady Morwan. I don’t even have a condescension module.” C-3PO paused a moment, then added, “But please don’t feel bad about it. Most female humans make the same mistake.”

  Morwan’s only reply was a groan of exasperation. A moment later she led C-3PO onto the flight deck.

  “I don’t know how you live in a gender-equal society, Princess Leia,” she said. “Even your droids have insufferable egos.”

  “You get used to it.” Leia nonchalantly turned her gaze forward again. Their destination now filled most of the canopy, with a frame of dark mist swirling around the edges of the star crescent. “Did I hear you telling Threepio you’re a field surgeon?”

  “Was,” Morwan corrected. “I, um, moved on after the Qoribu escapade.”

  Leia’s brow rose. “You were at Qoribu?” The Battle of Qoribu had been short but vicious, the result of a misunderstanding during the Dark Nest crisis between a Hapan commander and his Chiss counterpart. “Aboard the Kendall?”

  Morwan hesitated before answering, just long enough to suggest that she realized she had given away more information about herself than was probably wise.

  “As a matter of fact, I did serve aboard the Kendall,” she finally said. “How did you know?”

  “I recognized you from when we transported the Killiks,” Leia lied. The truth was that she had just tossed out the name of the Hapan flagship, hoping to trick Morwan into revealing the name of the vessel she’d served on. “So you served with Aleson Gray?”

  “I wouldn’t say with.” The pitch of Morwan’s voice was just a touch higher than normal, but it was enough to confirm the ripple of anxiety that Leia felt through the Force. “I wasn’t part of the command staff.”

  “Lady Morwan, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s impossible to lie to a Jedi?” Leia caught Han’s gaze in the canopy reflection and held it, making sure he understood the significance of the question. Hapan officers tended to draw their command staffs from their own houses, so chances were good that they had just identified the coup ringleader. “But don’t worry. Your Ducha’s secret is safe with us.”