Wedge smiled slyly. “I don’t think that’s the whole of the reputation he means, Han. This is Corran Horn. He used to be with CorSec.”
Han extended a hand to me. “Then I know you by reputation, too. And your father.”
“My father?”
Corellia’s most notorious smuggler nodded. “He was on my trail once. Had to take an appointment to the Imperial Naval Academy to escape him.”
Han Solo had a hint of smugness in his voice that I’d long associated with smugglers and criminals boasting of their narrow escapes, and I wanted to hate him for it. I knew he’d trafficked in spice for a Hutt and that, too, was cause for me to think him the dregs of the universe. Even the fact that Corellians were often seen as flashy scofflaws in the rest of the galaxy, largely because of the fame of his exploits, was more than enough to have earned him my enmity forever.
But there was something in his eyes and the firmness of his grip that hinted at the honorable spirit at his core. It would have been easy to deride him as nothing more than a mercenary who had found his fortune in Princess Leia, but that denied the sheer pain he’d suffered and the effort he’d put into fighting against the Empire. Something in the man struggled against taking the easy way out, against abandoning friends and abandoning hopeless causes. Perhaps it was a will to succeed or a fear of failure, both or even more, but it caused me to realize that a catalog of his crimes and deeds could not sum this man up.
“I am pleased to meet you, sir.”
“You were CorSec, I’m supposed to call you sir.” He shrugged. “But formality has never been my strong suit.”
Wedge waved Han to a chair, but the man remained standing. “Corran was just asking me to speak to your wife on a very important matter. Do you remember Booster Terrik?”
Han’s face brightened. “Booster? Hard to forget him. He was a legend among smugglers before Corellia cooled into a ball. Didn’t your father send Booster to Kessel?”
I nodded. “Five years.”
Han winced. “That’s a long time in the mines.”
Wedge nodded. “Corran married Booster’s daughter, Mirax.”
“Really! Someone who finally has in-laws that are as interesting as mine.” Han looked at me. “What did you want Wedge to speak to Leia about?”
“Mirax is missing. I want to go after her, but Airen Cracken won’t tell me where she was when she vanished.” I shrugged. “I was hoping the Council could order him to give me that information.”
“Leia might be able to convince them to do that, but I’d not be betting a lot on it, kid.” The smuggler’s brown eyes hardened. “As sympathetic as Leia might be to your cause, the fact is that your request would be pretty low on the New Republic’s list of priorities. And, if you think about it the way you would have thought about it when with CorSec, there’s no way you’d have turned that sort of information over to the spouse of an undercover officer.”
I glanced down at the floor. “I know.”
“However,” he said, letting a lighter tone bleed into his words, “New Republic Intelligence isn’t the only place you can get information about Mirax. She still flying the Pulsar Skate?”
My head came up. “Yes, sir.”
“Before I head out for Kessel—Leia has me working as a liaison to the inmates since I’ve been in the area before—I’ll put out some feelers and see if the Skate has been spotted in any of the usual places. Might pop up a lead for you.” Han’s eyes narrowed in my direction. “But that’s only if you get over this sir thing.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “Thank you, Han. And I’m Corran, despite having been in CorSec.”
Han smiled. “The galaxy is a big place, so your search won’t be easy, but I don’t expect that matters much to you.”
“It doesn’t.”
“May the Force be with you, then.” He glanced at Wedge. “You certain you don’t want to come along to Kessel?”
“Next time, Han, but not right now.” Wedge gave him a smile. “The last time I was there—Rogue Squadron was there—Moruth Doole didn’t really take a fancy to me. Do yourself a favor and don’t mention me to him.”
“I copy. When I get back, I’ll let you know if I’ve learned anything, Corran.” The pirate tossed us both an easy salute. “Good flying to both of you.”
Wedge and I stared after him as he spun and disappeared through the doorway. I laughed. “He has something of a presence, doesn’t he?”
Wedge nodded. “Kind of hard to forget.”
“Explains the bounties on his head.” I felt my smile slowly receding. “Wedge, one thing, I, ah, don’t know if you’re planning to see Iella now that you’re dirtdown, but if you do, don’t ask her about Mirax. She’s working for Cracken still, and might have information, but I don’t want her to get into trouble giving it to me.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” Wedge frowned slightly. “I really should link up with her, shouldn’t I?”
I smiled. “You two seemed to get along famously. I pretty much thought you’d have gotten fairly serious by this time.”
“I would have, too.” He shrugged uneasily. “I had intended to start dating her before her husband showed up, then after his death and Thyferra and Wraith Squadron and Thrawn …”
“I know, a lot of things have happened to make things tough. Can’t beat a homeworld girl, though, for having someone who can share the universe with you.”
“You and Mirax are certainly proving that.” Wedge looked away a little wistfully. “I really should call her and give things another chance. Maybe once I get this reconstruction going well I can take the time.”
“As Han said, it’s a pretty big galaxy, but I don’t think you’ll find anyone in it better for you than she is.” I forced an awkward laugh. “Big galaxy and I’m having to look for my wife, while the perfect match for you is so close. Life is never easy, is it?”
“No, that’s true.” Wedge’s eyes brightened and a smile began to blossom on his face. “However, we might have an edge in helping you solve your problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“Luke’s here, on Coruscant. You should talk to him.” Wedge nodded solemnly. “Finding Mirax may be akin to finding a quark in a mole of deuterium, but if that’s your task, having a Jedi help you do it is not a bad way to go at all.”
FIVE
Despite the early hour, Wedge made a call to Luke Skywalker, and we were invited to his chambers in the Imperial Palace. Wedge obtained an airspeeder and flew us over. He wove an aggressive course through the tall towers and thick ribbons of traffic choking the airways of the palace district. Jacking the speeder up on its left side, he slid us between two heavily laden lifttrucks, then came around in a big arc that brought us in for an approach at one of the palace’s many landing bays.
I glanced over at him and the look of pure pleasure on his face. “You may not believe it, but you’re missing the squadron a whole bunch.”
He winked at me. “I’m missing flying, certainly, but dealing with you fighter jocks and your egos was wearing thin.”
“Yeah, that’s all space-dust and plasma balls. Now you deal with politicians and their egos.” I laughed aloud. “You just moved up to really hard targets.”
Wedge frowned for a second. “More truth to that than I want to think about, my friend.”
We both fell silent as the Imperial Palace came into view. An upwelling of towers and massive edifices, it appeared to be the ultimate monument to power. Even so, the various parts had been sculpted with such exquisite attention to detail that taken in isolation, portions of it appeared positively delicate. What looked like thin membranes and gossamer tracery from far off became far more solid upon approach, but proximity revealed yet more levels of detail, complete with winking lights and bright colors splashed about. Complex seemed to be the only word that could fully encompass the palace.
The New Republic government had tried to abandon the name Imperial Palace, and various campaigns to call it things lik
e Republic House or simply the Capitol had been launched down through the years. None of them succeeded because none of them seemed appropriate. It was as if the building had grown up to fill every nuance suggested by the title Imperial Palace and to call it anything less just felt wrong.
Wedge gave the proper codes for us to land at the palace, then led me off through a maze of corridors to the Jedi Master’s home. I would have been utterly lost in the tangle of hallways, and only had a vague sense of our moving across the tower and up, but never really knew how far we had gone. Part of this was because the ornate designs and vibrant colors used to decorate this palace tower almost overwhelmed me. The use of Imperial Scarlet predominated, with gold, silver, blue and green accenting various features. Just when the clash of color would become too much, we’d walk past an alcove or a wall panel that housed artwork from one of the myriad planets in the galaxy. I found the alcoves to be a sanctuary of sorts and greatly anticipated them, moving from one to the next as I might move from system to system on a long flight.
What struck me as odd about my reaction was that this was not my first trip to the Imperial Palace. I couldn’t be certain I’d not been in this very tower before, but the fact was that quite a bit of the palace was garishly decorated. Part of me speculated that the reason for the violent use of color and ornamentation was because when the Emperor lived here, he so sucked life out of everyone, that if something was not made brutally and abundantly clear to them, they would not notice it.
The palace had not changed since my previous visits, but I had always come here before with my wife. Mirax’s appreciation for art, her knowledge of the various pieces, their styles, likely origins and even market value, had provided me with a context in which to place everything. I focused upon those things that interested her and built upon a foundation my mother had given me on our visits to the museums on Corellia. Through Mirax I had been able to filter out all the irritating things, but without her the colors assaulted me.
Master Skywalker’s chambers saved me. The door opened before we got to it and Wedge did not hesitate in plunging into the dimly lit room. The low lights quelled the riot of color. While the chambers still had the Imperial styling, there was no excess of furnishing to clog them with angles, plush fabrics and dangling fringes. The shelves that had been built into the walls of every chamber were all but devoid of datacard boxes and curios. Aside from a few mementos—a gaffi stick, his X-wing helmet and a couple of items I remembered from the Emperor’s Jedi mausoleum—the shelves remained bare.
The Jedi’s chambers reminded me of the very spare condition of the safehouse in which Mirax and I had come to live. The freedom from distractions made the rooms feel peaceful. Time seemed to slow here and for the first moment since I’d discovered Mirax was gone, I didn’t feel as if a sandstorm was scourging my brain.
Luke looked over at us from the small kitchenette and gave us a smile. “Wedge, good to see you again. And you as well, Captain Horn. Can I offer you something to drink?”
“Caf, if you have it.” Wedge hid a yawn with the back of his right hand. “You keep it dark enough in here for me to drop off right now.”
“Caf it shall be, then.” The Jedi Master looked at me and I felt electricity run through his blue-eyed gaze. When we had met before I had felt power in him, but now, after his experiences with the Emperor Reborn, his power had been redoubled. Physically he looked a bit haggard and worn, with the flesh around his eyes having tightened and wrinkles appearing at their corners. I knew we were the same age chronologically, but in experience he far surpassed me.
“And for you, Captain? I keep some of that Gizer Pale Blue ale here for Han. I’m having hot chocolate.”
I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “Too early to start drinking, and I’m not sure I’d want to stop. And I certainly don’t need to be more awake.”
“Your agitation is easy to sense.” Luke gestured toward the simple chairs and low table opposite the food prep station. “Why don’t you explain what the problem is.”
The soothing calmness of his voice helped quell the riot of emotions in me as I took a seat. Wedge sat at my right hand and Luke across from him. I leaned forward in my seat, resting my elbows on my knees. I took in a deep breath, held it for a moment and slowly exhaled.
“My wife, Mirax, is missing. She was off on a mission for General Cracken, a mission to see if she could discover the location of the Invidious so we could put an end to Leonia Tavira’s raids.” I hesitated, chewing my lower lip for a second. “She’d not have gone except for the fact that I said once the Invids were dealt with, we could make a decision about having kids. If I hadn’t put that condition on making the decision, she wouldn’t have gone to Cracken and wouldn’t have been taken away.”
Luke reached out and laid a hand on my left arm. “Take a moment. Calm yourself. You are building on a foundation that is not sound.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You are taking responsibility for Mirax’s actions—responsibility that is not yours to take.” Luke kept his voice low and even, forcing me to focus so I could hear his words. “She may have gone to Cracken to help end the Invid raids for a whole host of reasons. Clearly she wanted to help you and Rogue Squadron deal with them quickly. You think what she did was dictated by your postponement of a decision. She was probably more interested in keeping you and your friends alive.”
Wedge nodded. “You have to admit, Corran, that what Luke’s just described is exactly the sort of thing she would do.”
I shut my eyes for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Good point. You’re right, but that doesn’t mean part of her disappearance is not my fault.”
Luke’s hand tightened on my forearm. “Your sense of guilt is natural, but you can’t let it paralyze you. I am curious, though, about one thing. You say she has been ‘taken away.’ How do you know that?”
“I don’t know, I just know. I was sleeping, waiting for her to come back home, when I heard her call my name. Then I heard her scream it, then there was nothing.” I opened my eyes and locked gazes with the Jedi Master. “I could feel she was gone—not dead, just cut off from me. And then I began to forget details of her and our life. I could look around the room and identify things that she had brought to the house or that she had owned or used, but I got no emotional details. It feels as if she is dissolving from my memory.”
Luke straightened up and sipped his chocolate. His eyes grew distant for a moment and his face became a dark mask. “Very curious.”
“What is?”
“Having the memories fade.” He looked at me again with an intensity in his eyes. “I’d like to try something, if you don’t mind.”
I glanced at Wedge, who gave me a reassuring nod. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”
Luke smiled easily. “Just open your mind to me. I want to probe you. You’ll feel something—a little pressure. It might even tickle.”
“Okay.”
He drew in a deep breath and as he exhaled I felt a wave of peace wash out over me. I did my best to relax as the Jedi’s eyes half-closed. I felt something in my mind, something gentle yet firm, like a reassuring pat on the back, press against my consciousness. It grew more intense and shifted from point to point—if something as ethereal as a mind can be said to have points. I felt different angles of attack and an increase in pressure that verged on painful, then it evaporated and Luke sat back.
I looked at him expectantly. “What?”
He grinned boyishly. “Very interesting. Were you trying to resist me?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. Was there a problem?”
“A bit. I could pull off some surface impressions, but you were locked up pretty tightly.” He frowned for a moment. “Let me try it a different way. Wedge, I want you to start talking. What about doesn’t really matter. Something simple. Maybe a joke. Corran, focus on Wedge’s voice and what you feel about him. I’ll do the same thing, which ought to bring our thoughts on roughl
y parallel courses. That might provide me an opening.”
I shrugged. “Worth a shot, I guess.”
We both looked at Wedge. “I’m not very good with jokes.”
Luke nodded. “The sound of your voice is the focus here, not making us laugh.”
“Okay. So there was this Bothan who walked into a tapcaf with a gornt under his arm.…”
I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of Wedge’s voice. I thought back on all the times I had heard it, and all the advice and congratulations he’d given me, all the danger we’d shared, and the good times as well. I marveled at how we’d managed to scrape through impossible situations, winning against odds longer than even a Corellian would have bet on. I thought about the people we’d helped, the lives we’d saved, and even the shared pain of comrades lost in our battles along the way.
The whole of that time I only caught a hint of Luke’s probing. This time instead of coming in directly, he allowed his exploration to begin flowing along in the same direction as my thoughts. The current of his sensing melded with me and whatever mental defenses I had in place failed to fully recognize this other presence in my mind. Luke’s inquiry slipped past them, still bumping along my memories of Wedge, then, when he hit upon a memory in which both Wedge and Mirax appeared, he veered off sharply and I felt as if a transparisteel fang had been driven deep into my brain.
I must have blacked out for a second because the next thing I saw was Wedge standing over me. I blinked away tears and found myself staring up at the ceiling, with my chair having toppled over onto its back. I clutched at the arms so hard my hands hurt. My legs had wrapped themselves around the chair’s legs so tightly I heard the fiberplast creak and snap. I felt a burning in my lungs and realized I needed to remind myself to breathe.
Wedge dropped to a knee beside me. “Are you okay, Corran? Luke, how are you doing?”
“A bit better than he is, I suspect.” Luke appeared on the other side of me and pressed his left hand to my shoulder. I felt something flow from him into me and my quaking limbs slackened. “Easy now, Corran. I know that was a shock. I’m sorry.”
Star Wars: I, Jedi: Star Wars Page 5
