Allies

by Christie Golden

  For her family, for the Tribe—and for herself.

  ABOARD THE JADE SHADOW

  “I’M NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO GOING INTO THE MAW AGAIN,” BEN said bluntly. “It was tricky enough the first time.”

  “Well,” Luke said mildly, “you’ve done it once, you know what to be aware of.”

  Ben grimaced. “Doesn’t mean it’s going to be any easier.”

  Vestara nodded. “Agreed. We had difficulty as well.”

  Luke scratched his chin thoughtfully. Tadar’Ro, of the Aing-Tii, had told them the safe path to follow through the Maw to go where Jacen Solo had gone so many years before. Not surprisingly, though, considering how mysterious the Aing-Tii liked to keep themselves, he had couched it in the form of a riddle. “The Path of True Enlightenment runs through the Chasm of Perfect Darkness. The way is narrow and treacherous, but if you can follow it, you will find what you seek.” Ben and Luke had indeed been able to follow the “Path of True Enlightenment,” although the way had been treacherous indeed. It had led them between two black holes into an area known as Stable Zone One, in which “stability” was a bit of a misnomer. Ben had been the one to do the navigating of the yacht, and while he’d managed it by a combination of good piloting and trusting his feelings in the Force, it had still been an unnerving journey. Luke wasn’t looking forward to repeating it either, especially not having to worry about a dozen other vessels all making the journey successfully.

  “I’m wondering if we might get a little help,” he said at last. “I’ve got an old friend who lives near the Maw who might be able to lend us a ship.”

  Instantly, like a nexu scenting danger, Vestara was on the alert. “More ships? You are calling in reinforcements?”

  “I said a ship. A specialized asteroid tug that could help us offset the gravitational pull of the black holes. It’s large and it’s designed with more tractor beam emitters than ought to be legal. I have a friend who is very fond of tinkering and upgrading.”

  “Oh, Lando?” Ben looked pleased and amused. “We’re going to go to Kessel?”

  Vestara was listening attentively, filing away everything. Luke didn’t care. He was not attempting to keep this information from anyone.

  “Hopefully not to Kessel,” he replied to his son. “I’m hoping Lando can come join us. Meet us at the Maw so we can just head on in as soon as possible. I don’t want to delay any longer than we have to.” His voice became not hard, but determined. “The longer that being sits in her lair, the stronger she’ll become and the more harm she can do. We need to stop her as soon as possible, but we’ve got to make sure we’ve got every advantage.”

  “Well,” Ben said, glancing at Vestara, “Why wouldn’t more reinforcements be a good idea? Lando doesn’t have an injunction against warning him not to associate with you. He’s not a Jedi. Why can’t he help?”

  “I think once we reach Abeloth, all of us combined can take her,” Luke said. “All we really need is the Rockhound to get us there safely.”

  Vestara’s brown eyes narrowed. “It seems foolish to me that you do not take advantage of your friend’s connections, Master Skywalker. If he will give us more ships for our endeavor, why not?”

  “There might be a thousand food items on a table, but you do not need to eat them all in order to satisfy your hunger,” Luke replied. “Others might need to eat as well.”

  “Or,” Vestara said, “you might decide to come back for seconds later. When you are hungry again.”

  Ben grimaced and leapt up, striding purposefully toward the galley. “All this talk of food is making me hungry right now. Anyone want anything?”

  “I’ll come help you,” Vestara said quickly, rising. The two moved out of the cockpit and down toward the galley.

  “Oh? You like to cook?” Ben asked, grinning at her as they walked.

  “No, I like to hunt,” Vestara replied. “I am very good with the parang. We also had trained hunting reptiles. Cooking meals is left to the servants.”

  “I wouldn’t like to see what See-Threepio would do with preparing a meal. Appetizers are about all we trust him with.”

  “Who is See-Threepio?”

  Their voices grew fainter until at last Luke could not hear them. He sent a short message to Tendrando Arms, and a moment later he was smiling—despite the direness of the situation—at the miniature holographic form of Lando Calrissian. Even at only a third of a meter tall, Lando managed to look impressive. He was missing the hip-length cape and his silky red shirt looked a touch more casual than usual, but his boots gleamed and the black trousers had sharp creases that were even visible in miniature. Lando looked genuinely pleased to see him, and spread out his arms in a welcoming gesture.

  “Hey, buddy, long time no see!” Lando said expansively. “I didn’t expect to hear anything from you till you proved that cranky biddy in charge of the GA wrong.”

  Luke smothered a grin at hearing Admiral and Chief of State Natasi Daala referred to in such a manner. “I respect Chief of State Daala’s leadership qualities.”

  “You gotta say that in case there are any eavesdropping devices, right?” Lando grinned, his eyes dancing.

  “Maybe,” Luke deadpanned.

  “Hear you’ve gone off on some kind of odyssey with your boy.”

  “Something like that,” Luke said. “It’s good to see you, Lando, but this isn’t a social call. I’ve got a favor to ask.”

  “For Luke Skywalker? Name it.”

  “I’m in need of the Rockhound.”

  Lando’s jet-black eyebrows shot up. “The Rockhound?” he echoed. “What makes you think I’ve still got that beat-up antique hanging around?”

  “Because you have a nostalgic streak a thousand kilometers wide. Because the thing is one of only three ships made by the BramDorc Corporation known to exist. And because you never get rid of anything.”

  Lando shrugged self-deprecatingly and chuckled. “I am what I am. You got me. Yeah, I’ve still got her. I take it you’ve got some asteroids you need moved?”

  The Rockhound was a Colossus I Beta Series asteroid tug constructed by the now-defunct BramDorc Corporation. Little was known about the corporation, other than the fact that it had been based somewhere in the Unknown Regions and it specialized in massive vessels. It had vanished from the Galactic record with no trace some five years before the Battle of Yavin. Luke was right—there were only two other remaining ships manufactured by BramDorc: a waterhunter called the Icebreaker and the amusingly named liquefied–Tibanna tanker Gasbag, that had been turned into the orbital fortress of a two-bit Hutt crimelord.

  By all rights, Luke knew, the old ship belonged either in a museum like the Icebreaker, now forever planet-bound in the New Brampis Starship Museum, or a scrapyard. No one knew exactly how old the Rockhound was, though the Arkanian Orbital Logs mentioned it as far back as 524 years before the Battle of Yavin. Lando had flown it solo for many years back in his younger days as a prospector. Han had revealed quite a few things he found amusing about the Rockhound to Luke one night when the kids were dead to the world and both their wives had gone to bed.…

  Mara, I still miss you, and I swear I feel you here with me now.

  … and Luke had never forgotten them. One was the interesting fact that, as seemed to be the case with several ships in Lando’s possession, he had won the Rockhound from a Brubb prospector in an epic, six-hour, arm-wrestling match. Which, Han hinted, may or may not have been rigged. The other intriguing tidbit was the fact that the crew were all droids with a rather unique programming. Han had refused to elaborate further, returning Luke’s queries with smug, self-satisfied grins. Luke supposed he would now get the chance to find out what Han had been talking about.

  “Not exactly,” said Luke. “I’m actually heading into the Maw.”

  Lando’s jovial good humor, which Luke suspected was largely for his benefit, abated somewhat. “The Maw? Why? It’s hardly a vacation paradise in there.”

  “Certainly not,” Luke
agreed. “But it’s part of what I’m doing with Ben right now. We’re retracing Jacen’s five-year journey.”

  Lando sobered, his eyes kind. “Yeah, I heard a little something about that.”

  Luke thought, not for the first time, that while Lando did an effective job of hiding his innate decentness behind his swashbuckling façade, he wasn’t always the bluffer he liked to think of himself as. Lando Calrissian cared deeply for those he called friends.

  “Our path so far has led us here. And we’ve come to find out if there’s something … or more precisely, someone … in there who needs taking care of,” Luke continued.

  Lando nodded. “Yeah … I was wondering if something was going on there. You heard about what happened here on Kessel, right?”

  Luke had. Leia had told him about the strange quakes that had threatened to destroy Kessel, and incidentally Tendrando Arms in its entirety, right along with them. Too, his sister had mentioned that Allana had heard something through the Force. The girl had insisted that “something was waiting” for her “up in space.” It had wanted to know who she was, and was “sad but scary.” True, the girl was just barely eight, but she was the daughter of Tenel Ka and Jacen Solo, the granddaughter of Leia Organa Solo, and the great-granddaughter of Anakin Skywalker. If anyone could claim Force sensitivity was in her genes, it was Allana.

  Both Leia and Han had been convinced that their granddaughter had been telling the truth, at least as she was able to comprehend it. It was a disturbing thought. Luke was more certain now than ever that Abeloth had contacted Allana.

  He nodded. “Yes, I heard. Sounds like everything is stable for now, though.”

  “For now,” Lando allowed. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then as if suddenly becoming aware of the potential for solemnity, flashed a trademark rakish grin. “And hey—I guess that’s all anyone’s ever got, right?”

  “I guess so. I had no idea you were quite so profound, Lando.”

  Lando waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t let it get around. Bad for my reputation. So, you going in with just you and Ben? Even with the Rockhound, it could be tricky. I hate that place.”

  “Actually, Ben and I managed it with the Jade Shadow, but it was close,” Luke replied. “But with a group, the Rockhound will be particularly useful. Come on—that thing’s so big it almost creates its own gravimetric field.”

  Lando glanced at him curiously. “A group?”

  “I have a few … associates accompanying me.”

  Even via holographic communication, Lando knew how to read people. His bright eyes narrowed as he regarded Luke.

  “Associates, eh? What kind of associates? Not swindlers and scoundrels keeping the noble Luke Skywalker company, surely.”

  Luke debated demurring, but decided not to. He had known Lando for a long time, and certainly the former space pirate could not sit in judgment on Luke, considering the company he once kept—and, probably, still did keep.

  “Er … They’re um … well, they’re Sith, actually.”

  Lando’s expression of shock was almost comical. His mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot up, and the carefully cultivated “I’ve seen it all” image went right out the airlock.

  “S-Sith?” He could barely get the word out.

  “Sith,” Luke confirmed. “Quite a few of them. It’s … a long story.”

  “No kidding. I’ll want that story in addition to my fee, Skywalker.”

  There would be no fee, of course, and Luke didn’t bat an eyelash. “As soon as I can share it, I will,” he replied, grinning. “So, I take it you’ll surrender the Rockhound for a bit?”

  “Bring her back home safe and sound, and yourselves, too, if possible, and she’s yours,” Lando said. “But I have to warn you. You’ll have to cultivate that Jedi patience. She’s been out of service for a while, and it’s going to take some time to bring her up to speed. I’ve made a few … adjustments.”

  Luke couldn’t help but smile. Lando, just like Han, was always tinkering with his ships. It was as if the two simply couldn’t stand the notion of flying a ship the way it came out of the factory. While it amused him, Luke was certainly not one to dismiss the pair’s inclination to improve—the Jade Shadow was testimony to what a customized vessel could do.

  “I’m sure it will do everything but make me a cup of caf and deliver it to me in bed,” Luke said.

  “You know … that’s a great idea, Luke. I’ll get right on it,” Lando said with a straight face, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  “How long do you think it will take?”

  Lando considered. “Hm … the old boat’s been sitting in dock for a while. A week? Maybe two?”

  Disappointment knifed through Luke. “That long?” He did not regret his decision to ally with the Sith. He’d thought it over carefully and knew that it was the right one. He also knew that the longer one spent hanging around with garbage, the greater the chance a dianoga would show up. He wanted to confront Abeloth as soon as possible and be rid of the promises he had made before the Sith decided to turn on him, which was as inevitable as Ben getting hungry every few hours.

  Lando spread his hands in a don’t-look-at-me gesture. “Hey, you’re the one who wants a specialized vessel to go chasing Big Bads in the Maw, not me. I’ll do my best to make it a week. But seriously, Luke, I do have to warn you, this thing is old. And so is her droid crew. You gotta be gentle with her, understand?”

  “She’s not going to break down on me in the middle of the Maw?”

  “Hey, hey, did I say that?” Lando looked wounded, but it was just over the top enough for Luke to know his friend wasn’t serious. “That’s what I need the time for, to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’m just letting you know that she will need a little extra love, that’s all.”

  Luke sighed. He needed every advantage he could in going after Abeloth—that much had been made excruciatingly clear. If Lando said one to two weeks, then he would have to wait one to two weeks, and hope the Sith didn’t chafe at the delay too much. The tug could make all the difference.

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the loan. It’s appreciated, Lando. We’ll lay in a course for Kessel and—”

  “Oh, no, no, no, you’re not bringing Sith into orbit around my planet,” Lando said at once. “That would be bad for business if word gets out.”

  Luke thought it would be bad for everyone’s business if word got out, but he said nothing.

  Lando continued. “We’ll rendezvous at Klatooine. It’s close to the Maw, part of the Si’Klaata Cluster,” Lando continued.

  “Why do I know that name?” Luke asked. He wondered if it was only because it was so similar to “Tatooine” that it stuck in his mind so.

  Lando grinned, showing perfect white teeth. “Because it’s the last stop on the famous Kessel Run. You can’t possibly have forgotten that.”

  “Of course,” Luke said. “The Kessel Run. Han has to regale us at least once a year with that story.”

  Lando chuckled. “Believe me, the Run was even more interesting when the place was crawling with Hutts,” he said. “Or slithering, since Hutts don’t have legs. It’s still Hutt space, officially, but they got badly hurt during the Yuuzhan Vong wars. It’s pretty quiet there now. You and your, uh, associates shouldn’t have too much trouble. A few days in orbit, maybe even a planet landing to stretch your legs, should be just fine.”

  Luke touched the console and a map popped up on the transparisteel screen. There was the Maw, and near it was Kessel. Hutt space was clearly defined, and sure enough, there was the Si’Klaata Cluster, consisting of Klatooine, Nimia, Ques, Lant, Iotra, Yoruibuunt, and Sriluur. Klatooine was firmly within Hutt space, but Luke was not worried. Lando might be adventurous, but he would never deliberately put Luke in harm’s way for something as inconsequential as a rendezvous point.

  “Thanks, Lando. I appreciate it.”

  “Anytime, Luke. Just treat my old vessel with care and respect. And … watch your back, huh kid?�
��

  Lando grinned, winked, and his image vanished.

  “Threepio’s a protocol droid,” Ben was saying as he rummaged about in the galley. They had restocked somewhat on Dathomir after Ben had depleted their supplies by helping the Mind Drinkers in the Maw, but there was still not a lot to choose from. He selected some fruits and vegetables and began to cut them up into a sort of salad, tossing in a few chunks of cooked something-or-other. He hadn’t paid much attention to the flora and fauna of Dathomir, except to make sure it wasn’t going to try to sting, poison, choke, or eat him.

  “He knows all about etiquette and stuff. Languages, histories, customs—”

  “But not recipes,” Vestara said, smiling, as she reached for the salad he had made her.

  “Definitely not recipes,” Ben confirmed, smiling back. So often, she seemed to hold herself rigidly in check, projecting a cool composure. When Vestara Khai did smile, she looked her age. Her face lit up and her brown eyes warmed and … well, he liked it when she smiled.

  Ben realized she was looking at him expectantly and he blushed a little at where his thoughts were going. He returned his attention to making his own salad. “It’s not as if my aunt Leia hasn’t tried to improve on his programming. She does this spiceloaf that—”

  He caught himself. This was not an ordinary girl, with whom he could chat casually about family recipes, good or bad. And he’d just named his aunt.

  Vestara continued to smile and look at him curiously. “What about the spiceloaf? What kind of spices were used in it?”

  “Uh, I don’t know, but let’s put it this way,” Ben said, glancing down as if the preparation of a salad was as important a task as navigating through the Kathol rift. “It would be nice if Threepio could learn how to cook.”

  Vestara slid into a seat, folding her tall body in with feline grace, laughing a little. “You speak of this droid as if he were a family member.”