The Lost Ones

by Kevin J. Anderson

  suit, and soon everyone at the table had devoured their "salads."

  Zekk was mortified, though he tried not to show it. His manners were

  laughable, his clothing was outdated, and he had embarrassed everyone by

  eating something he should have known was a decoration. He wished he had

  never been invited to this banquet. He endured the rest of the evening in

  simmering silence until the Karnak ambassador and her entourage of furball

  children finally departed, accompanied by the Chief of State and her

  husband.

  When New Republic escorts came to return them to their rooms, Zekk decided

  to take the first opportunity to escape.

  "Don't worry about tonight, Zekk," Jaina said in an understanding voice.

  "You're our friend. That's all that matters."

  Zekk felt stung by her comment, by the fact that she had even needed to say

  such a thing. He didn't belong here. That truth was etched in burning

  letters in his brain. He should have known better, but he had pretended that

  he could fit in with such high-class friends.

  When he slipped out the back door of the main dining hall, fully intending

  to walk too fast for even the rigid escorts to keep up with him, Jaina tried

  to stop him. "Wait!" she called. "We're still going to meet tomorrow, right?

  We promised to help you get that central multitasking unit for Peckhum."

  Zekk didn't particularly want to go home, but he certainly couldn't stay. He

  hurried out into the corridors without answering Jaina.

  * 7 *

  LATER THAT NIGHT, the bulk space cruiser Adamant lurched into the Coruscant

  system, heavily guarded by New Republic warships. The number of assault

  fighters bristling with turbolaser cannons that clustered around the supply

  cruiser hinted at the military importance of the cargo it carried.

  Standing ready on the cruiser's command bridge, Admiral Ackbar remained

  tense despite the additional precautions that had been taken. The Adamant

  approached a docking zone near the Coruscant space stations, precisely

  according to schedule. The assault fighters powered down their weapons and

  split off as each squadron signaled farewell to the admiral, commander of

  the New Republic Fleet.

  "Thanks for the escort," Ackbar said into the Comm unit. "Coruscant security

  will take over from here." He switched off and paced the bridge. It had been

  a long haul, but the New Republic badly needed the modern hyperdrive cores

  and turbolaser battery emplacements his ship carried in its armored holds.

  The Adamant would deliver the components to the Kuat Drive Yards, where they

  would be installed in a new fleet of battleships. Ackbar had been charged

  with making a formal inspection tour--and he always relished the chance to

  be aboard a fine military ship.

  Though the main threat from the evil Empire had ended, trouble still flared

  up in the non-allied systems. The fragile government, led by Chief of State

  Leia Organa Solo, had to be ready at all times with a force strong enough to

  ward off attacks from known or unknown enemies.

  "Coruscant Central acknowledges our arrival," said the helmsman.

  Admiral Ackbar nodded. "It'll be good to take some rest and recreation

  downside," he said, turning to the helmsman and staring with his round,

  fishy eyes. "Ever been to Coruscant for a furlough before, Lieutenant?"

  The young man nodded. "Yes, sir. Several times. I know where there's this

  little rooftop cantina, a rotating restaurant that lets you look out across

  the whole city. They've got a keyboard player with ten tentacles. Boy, you

  should hear the music she makes!"

  Admiral Ackbar chuckled just as the tactical officer turned from her

  station, her normally pale skin flushed as she shouted an alarm.

  "Admiral! An unidentified fleet just appeared off our starboard bow. Range

  is less than fifty kilometers and closing fast. They appear to be in an

  attack formation."

  Ackbar whirled to look out the front viewports. "Attack formation?" he said.

  "But we're in the Coruscant protected zone, one of the most heavily guarded

  areas in the galaxy. Who could possibly attack us?" He saw the incoming

  fleet as it soared in like birds of prey, appearing out of nowhere. In the

  same moment, he felt the stunning blows from their ion cannons, which

  immediately crippled the Adamant's defensive systems.

  "Battlestations!" he cried in his gravelly voice as another thundering blow

  slammed into the side of the Adamant.

  "Minor outer hull breach," the operations officer shouted. "Loss of

  pressure. Emergency bulkhead doors have closed."

  "Transmit a distress signal," Ackbar yelled. "Request immediate assistance

  from Coruscant security. Now!"

  "All weapons systems off-line," the tactical officer reported. "We can't

  even fire a shot. Engines are still undamaged, though-almost as if our

  attackers are trying not to target them."

  "They want to steal this ship," Ackbar said as the cold realization struck

  him. "And its cargo."

  The communications officer had begun transmitting a distress signal, but the

  round-faced young man looked up almost immediately, his cheeks pale. "Sir,

  communication systems are nonfunctional. We can't even request help."

  Admiral Ackbar swallowed. Coruscant would note the attack and respond within

  minutes, but by then, he knew, it would be too late.

  The enemy ships closed in.

  The modified assault shuttle zeroed in on its target. At his controls the

  former TIE pilot Qorl guided the attack. He wore a black skull-like helmet

  that sealed against his skin and recirculated breathable air. The dark

  goggles covering his eyes transmitted important tactical data to his

  retinas.

  He positioned the shuttle's circular cutting mouth attachment against the

  armor plating of the Rebel supply cruiser. The name Adamant had been

  stenciled on the side . . . Adamant, which meant impenetrable, unyielding.

  Qorl grunted to himself. The exceedingly tough cutting teeth were made from

  industrial-grade Corusca gems and could slice through any known substance.

  The Shadow Academy 's takeover troops would be in control of the ship within

  moments.

  Qorl punched an important-looking red button on the controls. It set the

  Corusca blades spinning, chewing, until the attachment had sliced out a

  large circle in the Adamant's hull, opening a hole into the supply cruiser.

  Qorl clenched the black-gloved hand of his bulky droid arm into a fist. His

  own arm had been crippled when his TIE fighter crashed on the jungle moon of

  Yavin 4, but Imperial engineers had replaced the twisted limb with a more

  powerful droid attachment. His strength had increased, though he could not

  feel anything with his new mechanical fingers.

  Eager stormtroopers assembled in the boarding tube, holding their blaster

  rifles ready. Qorl knew that the supply cruiser's main defenses had been on

  the escort ships, the fourteen heavily armed corvettes, E-wings, and X-wings

  that had flanked the Adamant on its trip to Coruscant. The Rebels had become

  complacent at their capital world, though, and they had let their defenses

  lapse for just a moment. Qorl
, lurking in his invisible hiding place, had

  seized that moment to strike.

  "Airtight seal complete," a stormtrooper captain reported.

  "Very well," Qorl said, standing from his command chair. "Begin the assault.

  We must be away from here within five standard minutes. We have no time for

  errors."

  The sealed hatch of the boarding tube popped open, and the stormtroopers

  charged in, firing at anything that moved using only stun beams. They had no

  particular desire to avoid killing the Adamant's crew, but deadly blaster

  bolts might cause irreparable damage to the bridge's control systems.

  Some of the Rebel crew had taken shelter behind consoles. They fired at the

  stormtroopers, releasing wild bursts of energy. One trooper went down, a

  smoking hole in his white chest armor, making a gurgling sound that ended

  with a burst of static over his comm system.

  Qorl marched in, holding a blaster pistol in his droid hand. The

  stormtroopers fired repeatedly. The Rebel helmsman went down, flying

  backwards as bolts of blue energy knocked him aside. A tactical officer

  screamed a challenge as she leaped from her position, shooting four times in

  quick succession. She killed two stormtroopers before she, too, was stunned.

  Qorl strode forward, intent on the Adamant's helm. He needed to get this

  ship moving soon.

  The dark goggles of his TIE helmet allowed little peripheral vision, and as

  he passed the command station, the Rebel commanding officer--a fish-faced

  Calamarian--leaped up and tackled him. Qorl's blaster pistol clattered to

  the floor.

  The officer wrestled with Qorl, fighting with flipper hands, but the TIE

  pilot drove his powerful droid fist into the face of the alien, knocking him

  out cold. Qorl retrieved his blaster pistol and climbed to his feet,

  brushing off his black uniform.

  A stormtrooper captain marched up to him smartly "The bridge is secure, sir.

  Ready to move out."

  Qorl sat down in the Adamant's command chair. "Very well." He sealed his

  helmet and his padded suit for total containment, which would protect him

  from the rapid decompression when the assault ship detached itself from the

  hull. He hesitated. "Stuff these Rebels into an escape pod, and launch it."

  "Save them, sir?" the trooper asked, perplexed. "We don't have much time."

  "Then be quick about it!" Qorl snapped. Conflicting emotions warred within

  him. These were the enemy, and he had sworn to fight them--but the crew on

  this ship had battled valiantly, and he couldn't stomach letting them die as

  they lay there unconscious.

  The stormtroopers paused for only a second, then hustled as they dragged the

  limp forms to the bridge escape pod and unceremoniously dumped them inside

  the defenseless craft. The stormtrooper captain sealed the batch and punched

  the pod's external launch control. With a hiss from explosive bolts and a

  gush of compressed gases, the escape pod shot away.

  Qorl studied the Adamant's tactical station. Rebel defensive forces were

  finally on their way, streaking up out of orbit and heading toward the

  besieged supply ship. "Go!" he said to the troopers. "Take the assault

  shuttle and escape. I will meet you back at the base."

  The stormtroopers hurried to the shark-mouthed assault shuttle and sealed

  the boarding hatch. Qorl braced himself as the modified ship detached

  itself, letting the contained atmosphere rush out of the bridge through the

  gaping hole, to space.

  Secure in his suit, Qorl powered up all the engines. He fed in preprogrammed

  coordinates, and the Adamant lurched into motion. As the Rebel fleet zoomed

  in, Qorl followed his Imperial ships, carrying with him an incredible

  treasure that would help the Second Imperium gain its rightful place of

  military superiority.

  The base was very close indeed.

  Admiral Ackbar returned to consciousness, and found himself crammed with his

  crew inside an escape pod that whirled out of control through space. His

  head ached, and he felt as if a space mine had exploded inside his skull.

  His crew members groaned and stirred, coming awake. For some reason their

  lives had been spared. He wriggled his way over to one of the tiny viewports

  so he could watch for rescue craft.

  As the escape pod spun about in a nauseating spiral, Admiral Ackbar saw his

  own ship from the outside. The hijacked space cruiser Adamant lumbered into

  motion and picked up speed as the Imperial fighters streaked ahead of it.

  New Republic reinforcements headed on a direct path to recapture the

  precious weapons and supplies--but already Ackbar could see that the

  Imperial ships would be long gone by the time those reinforcements arrived.

  Ackbar watched the Adamant vanish before the Coruscant ships came close

  enough to fire a shot. He wished he could just fall back into

  unconsciousness, but the splitting pain in his skull kept him wide awake.

  * 8 *

  AS ZEKK HURRIED through the night streets of Imperial City , heading away

  from the palace, he took back stairways and crossed alley catwalks, wanting

  to see no one. Overhead, blinking lights from shuttles taxiing across the

  atmosphere fought through a blurring mist of condensed moisture from roof

  exhaust vents. The city's myriad lights and its sprawling landscape of

  skyscrapers extending beyond the horizon taunted him with the knowledge

  that, despite the millions upon millions of inhabitants, he was totally

  alone.

  After the evening's miserable escapades, he felt as if a marquee droid was

  hovering over his head, broadcasting to everyone that Zekk was a clumsy

  fool, an embarrassment to his friends. What had he been thinking--trying to

  fit in with important society, mingling with ambassadors and diplomats,

  making friends with the children of the Chief of State? Who was he to spend

  time with such people?

  He looked at his feet for something to kick, finally spotted an empty

  beverage container, and lashed out with his boot, a boot he had spent time

  polishing so he would look good in front of his so-called friends. The

  container clattered and bounced against a duracrete wall, but to Zekk's

  frustration it refused to break.

  He kept his gaze turned downward, to the shadows and the clusters of garbage

  in the gutter. He shuffled aimlessly, wandering the back streets, not caring

  where he might end up. The lower world of Coruscant was his home. He knew it

  well, and he could survive here--which was good, because it looked as if he

  would be stuck in this gloomy place for the rest of his life.

  There was no hope, no chance for advancement. He simply wasn't the equal of

  those people who could look forward to a bright future--people like Jaina

  and Jacen.

  Zekk was a nobody.

  He saw a group of merchants closing up their kiosks for the night, chatting

  cordially with the New Republic guards who patrolled the streets. Zekk

  didn't want to go near them, didn't want any company whatsoever. He slipped

  into a public turbolift and punched a button at random, descending nineteen

  floors and emerging in a dimmer section of the city.

  Old Peckh
um had already gone up to the mirror station on his tour of duty,

  so even Zekk's home would be empty and uninviting. He'd have to spend the

  night alone, trying to keep amused with games or entertainment systems . . .

  but nothing sounded at all interesting.

  He could wander around for as long as he liked, so he decided to enjoy it.

  No one would tell him to go to bed, no one would admonish him for going

  places where he wasn't allowed, no one would breathe down his neck.

  He smiled thinly. He had a freedom Jaina and Jacen didn't have. When they

  were out exploring and having fun, the twins constantly checked their

  chronometers, making sure they would be back home at the appointed time,

  never making allowances for unexpected circumstances. They certainly didn't

  want to give their protocol droid a burned worry circuit by not following

  their explicit orders. The twins were prisoners to their own schedules.

  What did it matter if Zekk didn't know all the manners a life in the

  diplomatic court required? Who cared if he didn't understand which eating

  implement to use, or what the appropriate phrase of gratitude was when

  speaking to an insectoid ambassador? He snorted with derision. He wouldn't

  want to live like Jaina and Jacen. No way!

  As he wandered along the abandoned corridors, purposely scuffing his toes

  against the floor plates, he paid no attention to the thickening shadows, to

  the oppressive silence that surrounded him. He sniffed and clenched his

  teeth in remembered humiliation. He didn't care about any of that. Zekk was