Star Wars The New Jedi Order - Hero's Trial - Book 4

by James Luceno

  "You don't need to know that just now."

  "Maybe yes, maybe no, but I came all the way from Nar Shaddaa for this meeting."

  "And I'm sure you're already homesick for the Hutts."

  "All I'm saying is that you'd better have something worthwhile."

  The telbun took a moment to respond. "You run with the Peace Brigade, but you answer to Yuuzhan Vong operatives."

  Reck took a moment, as well. "You already know that or you wouldn't have asked me to come here."

  "Correct response. I'm something of a stickler for honesty."

  "Get to the point," Reck hissed. "What information do you have?"

  "I know a way to put you in good stead with your bosses."

  "Yeah, so you said when you made contact. But what makes you think I'm not in good standing?"

  "You showed up here. I wasn't sure where you stood when I comlinked you, but I know now. You're ambitious and you're intrigued."

  Reck snorted again. "I'll let you know when I hear the rest of what you have to say."

  "The New Republic has a Yuuzhan Vong defector in custody. She's an elite - a priestess of some sort. She jettisoned from an enemy ship destroyed in the Meridian sector. The Yuuzhan Vong have already made an attempt at retrieving het, and after what just happened at Ord Mantell I suspect they'll double their efforts."

  Reck's brows knitted. "What happened at Ord Mantell?"

  "Based on intelligence provided by the defector, a New Republic task force thwarted a Yuuzhan Vong attack."

  Reck loosed a surprised whistle. "So this priestess is now a hot property."

  "She's traveling with a mascot. The two are being transferred from the Mid Rim to Coruscant for safekeeping. I know the route they're taking."

  Reck checked an impulse to turn around. "I'm not sure I follow you."

  "Think about it. Whoever returns the defector to the fold will be doing the Yuuzhan Vong a tremendous favor."

  "Now I get it. I make everyone happy, and maybe earn myself a reward. But what's your payoff in this? You want a piece of the action, right?"

  "Wrong. In exchange, you keep me apprised of the Peace Brigade's future dealings with the Yuuzhan Vong."

  "And if I refuse to keep my side of the bargain?"

  "I'll bring everyone down on you - military and New Republic Intelligence. After the stunts you've pulled, you'll be lucky to get a life sentence on Fodurant."

  "Cards on the table, huh? So why do you want to see this defector returned?"

  The telbun laughed shortly. "Did you throw in with the enemy only for the credits, Reck?"

  "Credits scammed are twice as sweet as credits earned."

  "That's cute, but I don't accept it. Doubtless, credits figured into your decision, but you know as well as I that there are larger issues at stake."

  "What larger issues?"

  "The New Republic is going to lose this war, and there's nothing to be gained by being on the losing side. Play this right, Reck, and both of us will come out winners."

  "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a tempting offer," Reck said tentatively. "But since you had no trouble getting to me, that must mean that NRI already has the Peace Brigade under surveillance."

  "You leave that to me."

  "To you ... And when do I get to know who you are?"

  "When the time's right - and I make that decision."

  Reck took a slow breath. "All right," he said at last. "I'm willing to give this a shot."

  "You won't be sorry." The telbun paused briefly. "The defector and her companion are being relocated to Bilbringi aboard an old starliner called Queen of Empire . I'll furnish you with their travel plans and keep you updated on additional details as I learn them. But I suggest you grab them before they reach Bilbringi."

  "You leave that to me," Reck said, glad for the chance to even the score.

  "One more thing you keep quiet about where you received this information - even with your Yuuzhan Vong controllers. For the time being, this is strictly between you and me, and your two cronies."

  "I can do that - on a trial basis anyway."

  "I know you won't disappoint me, Reck." A hand touched Reck's shoulder. Then, with a rustling of fabric, the telbun stood.

  "I'll be in touch. Don't attempt to follow me." Reck stayed put but his eyes swept the room for signs of the telbun's accomplices. When no one rose to follow the robed figure out the restaurant's back entrance, he swung to Ven and Wotson. "Quick - after him!"

  Reck was one step beyond the pair as they plowed through the rear doors, only to confront a sunken courtyard filled wall to wall with identically attired telbuns.

  Warbling sirens signaled an all-clear as C-3PO hurried past the open-air launch pads of Ord Mantell's primary spaceport. Defense shields had protected the city from aerial bombardment, but to the north - in the direction of the planet's renowned junkyards - thick columns of oily black smoke climbed into a smudged sky.

  "Thank the maker," C-3PO muttered as he walked. "Thank the maker."

  Secreted with her vigilant Noghri bodyguard, Mistress Leia had tasked C-3PO with assuring that their spacecraft hadn't suffered damage during the Yuuzhan Vong attack, and indeed that had proved to be the case. But several ships had been caught unawares, and the sight of their scorched and punctured hulls had given C-3PO an unshakable flutter.

  He shuddered to think what might have been his fate had the New Republic task force failed to foil the enemy attack. Why, he might well have ended up in a scrap heap or, worse yet, at the bottom of a pit filled with incinerated droids, such as he had witnessed on Rhommamool, after a brief but disquieting encounter with the late Nom Anor.

  "Your existence offends me," the political troublemaker had told him, with a minatory look that was permanently burned into C-3PO's memory core.

  It was one thing to be shunned by Gotals, whose impressionable sensory organs tended to become overloaded by the energy output of droids, but it was quite another to be singled out for deactivation or annihilation. Of course, there had been cases where a droid was actually responsible for instigating antidroid sentiment, such as when a MerenData EV supervisor droid serving under Lando Calrissian on Bespin had destroyed one-quarter of Cloud City's droid population. But EV-9D9's ignominious acts were hardly typical of droid behavior.

  More to the point, what could droids, or a single droid, have possibly done to fill Nom Anor with such hatred? In searching for precedent's, C-3PO could recall instances of droid enmity coming from humans forced to wear artificial parts. But many humans were perfectly comfortable with harboring nonliving parts. C-3PO couldn't recall a single instance of Master Luke railing against his replacement hand.

  It was all so baffling!

  C-3PO had had more than his share of personal brushes with annihilation. An arm torn off by Tusken Raiders, traumatic dismemberment by Imperials on Cloud City and rioters on Bothawui, an eye yanked out by Jabba the Hutt's Kowakian monkey-lizard ... But only to be reassembled after each calamity, defragged and degaussed, bathed in oil - a droid's bacta tank - and polished back to his auric splendor.

  Those periodic resurrections made actual deactivation inconceivable, or at the very least, challenging to contemplate. In effect, ceasing-to-be was shutting down permanently - eternally. But how could that be? And how torturous it must be to suffer forced deactivation at the hands of adversaries!

  "We're all doomed," C-3PO muttered aloud. "It's the lot of all sentient beings, metal and otherwise, to suffer."

  But exactly why was deactivation such a frightening prospect to ponder?

  Did the fear owe to a desperate desire to remain activated, to sustain awareness indefinitely and at all costs? Or did it owe to an unnatural attachment to existence? An attachment that, if surrendered, would take with it all fears of ceasing-to-be -

  The revelation discombobulated him momentarily, and he came to so sudden a halt on the permacrete landing field that a protocol droid not entirely unlike himself rear-ended him.

&nbs
p; " E chu ta to you!" C-3PO said, throwing the droid's rude expletive right back at him.

  The nerve, he told himself as he resumed his pace. To disrespect one who had seen so much in his time, who had traveled so widely, who had amassed so much knowledge since his first job of programming binary loadlifters -

  Quite unexpectedly his photoreceptors zeroed in on Master Solo. Conversing with a ... why, a Ryn, of all species.

  As C-3PO hastened toward them he couldn't help but note that Master Han and the Ryn looked somewhat the worse for wear, as did the shuttle they had obviously exited, accompanied by a mixed lot of woebegone beings and a red-capped R2 unit. And, in fact, Master Solo and the Ryn weren't so much conversing as arguing .

  "See you around," the Ryn was concluding as C-3PO neared.

  "Not if I can help it, partner," Han said, in a manner that held little sympathy.

  "Master Solo!" C-3PO called, waving an arm over his head. "Master Solo!"

  Han turned and saw him, then snorted a laugh - not at all as surprised as C-3PO might have expected him to be. But then, he had been made aware of Mistress Leia and C-3PO's impending visit to Ord Mantell. So perhaps he had come looking for them.

  "Master Solo, you're injured," C-3PO exclaimed, on seeing dried blood on his hands and face.

  "Could've been a lot worse," Han replied with his usual penchant for understatement. "Where's Leia, Threepio?"

  "Why, she's at the Hotel Grand as we Speak, sir."

  Han thought for a minute, eyes narrowing as he glanced at C-3PO. "I don't suppose there's any chance of your not mentioning you ran into me?"

  C-3PO inclined his head in perplexity.

  "No, I suppose not," Han said, answering for himself. He blew out his breath. "In that case, I guess you'd better lead me to her."

  EIGHTEEN "I still can't believe you're here," Leia said as she applied a transdermal bacta patch to a nasty abrasion above Han's right eyebrow. Han was seated at the vanity in Leia's elegant hotel room, with Leia leaning over him and C-3PO standing silently in the background. Olmahk and Basbakhan had posted themselves at the door. "Where's your friend Roa?"

  Han spoke through gritted teeth. "That's an excellent question, Leia. He got sucked into some sort of Yuuzhan Vong snakeship that latched on to the Jubilee Wheel ."

  Leia placed her hands on his shoulders. "Oh, Han, no."

  "Maybe he's only been captured," Han vented. "But that's even worse." He clenched his jaw and shook his head back and forth.

  "Did you two accomplish what you set out to do?"

  Leia asked guardedly.

  Han's eyes found hers in the vanity mirror. "The enemy interrupted us,"

  "I'm sorry to hear that." Leia averted her gaze and returned to smoothing the bacta patch. "What will you do now?"

  Abruptly Han stood up and paced away from the vanity, combing his hair back from his face with his fingers. "I don't know. Look for him, I guess."

  Leia regarded him with disbelief. "Look for him? How do you intend to do that?"

  Han shook his head. "I don't know yet." He glanced at Leia and scowled. "What do you expect me to do - pretend it never happened?"

  "Of course not. I only meant -" Han waved his hand at her. "Ah, how could I expect you to understand?"

  Leia folded her arms and squinted. "You think I don't know what it's like to lose a friend?"

  Han held up a hand. "I don't need you reminding me about Alderaan or Elegos A'Kla -"

  Leia's eyes flashed. "Have you completely lost your mind? How dare you say that?"

  Han met her gaze. "Careful, Leia," he advised, "I'm not in the best mood."

  Leia clutched her neck in elaborate concern. "And I certainly wouldn't want my name added to the list of people who have crossed the infamous Han Solo."

  Han pivoted slightly to throw C-3PO a wry glance. "Great little fighter for her weight, don't you think, Threepio?"

  C-3PO stared at him. "Pardon me for asking, sir, but -"

  "Are you coming back to Coruscant with us?" Leia asked, planting her fists on her hips.

  Han shook his head. "It's like I told you, Roa and I were interrupted."

  "And you've no intention of telling me what this is about."

  Han shrugged.

  "What happened to the man who preferred a straight fight to sneaking around?"

  Han's brow furrowed and his jaw dropped a bit. "Who's sneaking around?"

  She frowned in disappointment. "You've changed, Han."

  "What are you talking about?" he protested. "I'm the same as ever. Timeproof, weatherproof, rust resistant."

  "You think so?" Leia took him by the shoulders and swung him around to face the mirror. "Take a good look."

  Han fell silent for a moment. "That's not the years, it's the parsecs."

  Leia exhaled wearily. "You can be so exasperating."

  He snorted. "Yeah, I guess you wish you'd married some pro zoneball player instead of a smuggler, huh?"

  Leia firmed her lips in anger. "That's not it at all." She gestured to the window. "It's reckless of you to be roaming about out there. For all you know, the Yuuzhan Vong have some kind of dossier on you. There might even be a price on your head."

  "I'm not exactly 'roaming about,' Leia."

  "Then tell me what you're doing."

  Han started to say something but stopped himself and began again. "I knew it would be a mistake to come here," he mumbled.

  Leia stepped back in genuine dismay. Now she stopped Han when he started to speak. "You know what I think, Han? I think that you should plot a course around Coruscant until you've worked this out. I mean it."

  Han nodded, tight-lipped. "Maybe you're right, Leia. Maybe that's for the best."

  She made no attempt to restrain him as he snatched his travel pack from the floor and let himself out. But no sooner did the door seal than she sank to the bed, as if stunned.

  "Well, that certainly wasn't in the plans," she said flatly to C-3PO.

  "The plans, Mistress?"

  She looked at him askance. "It's an expression, Threepio. I didn't really have any plans."

  C-3PO appeared to slouch. Leia smiled in spite of herself. "Human thinking isn't all it's prized to be, Threepio. In fact, sometimes it's better not to know what's on someone else's mind."

  Han placed his hand over the top of the squarish glass to prevent the four-armed bartender from refilling it.

  "Alcohol isn't the answer," he said.

  The Codru-Ji studied him from behind the counter. "What's the question?"

  "How do you change the past?"

  "Simple. By changing the way you remember it."

  "Yeah, I suppose I could get my memory wiped."

  The bartender nodded in understanding. "Another whiskey and you'd be well on your way."

  Han ran his hand over his stubbled jaw, then shook his head. "To nowhere."

  The bartender shrugged. "Suit yourself, pal."

  The bar at the Lady Fate Casino was almost empty, but the gaming tables were crowded with people celebrating their good fortune in escaping immolation - perhaps the longest shot any oddsmaker had ever posted. Han figured he, too, would have been in a mood to revel, if not for what had happened to Roa and Fasgo.

  But what sense was there in dragging Leia down with him? She wasn't to blame for their disappearance any more than Anakin was responsible for Chewie's death - perhaps any more than Reck Desh was. So maybe it was time to forget about searching for Roa or the so-called Peace Brigade and return to Coruscant, where he might even be able to engage in something constructive.

  He paid for the drink, tipped the Codru-Ji generously, and was headed for the exit when Big Bunji's Aqualish lieutenant intercepted him.

  "I see you made it off the Wheel in one piece," Han said with elaborate disappointment.

  "Good to see you, too, Solo. Boss B thought you might be found here."

  "Tell Bunji I want to thank him for leaving us behind."

  "He sends his apologies. In the haste of th
e moment, he completely forgot that he had guests."

  Han's upper lip twitched. "I'll be sure to tell that to Roa and Fasgo - assuming they survive whatever the Yuuzhan Vong have planned for them."

  The Aqualish nodded inscrutably. "Perhaps this will help, Solo. The boss has learned that the human you were asking about - the one called Reck Desh - has an operation planned for Bilbringi."

  Han's expression went from anger to wary interest. "What sort of operation?"

  "Unknown. Only that it involves the entire Peace Brigade."

  "When?"

  "Imminently."

  "Bilbringi, you say."

  "That much is known."

  Han pushed his hair from his forehead and loosed a slow exhale. "Okay, tell Bunji thanks."

  The Aqualish gestured farewell and moved off, and Han returned to the bar to think. Presumably, the Happy Dagger was still docked on the Wheel , but there would be no way of knowing whether it had survived the attack without returning upside. The alternative was to find public transport to Bilbringi and nose around for clues as to what Reck was up to. Leia could probably pull the necessary strings to get him aboard a ship, but he couldn't ask her without coming clean, and he wasn't ready to risk that. Not yet, anyway.

  But C-3PO ... C-3PO could arrange for his passage on a Bilbringi-bound vessel.

  As per Han's discreetly relayed request, C-3PO rendezvoused with him at the entrance to the Ord Mantell spaceport.

  "Nothing better than a prompt droid," Han said smiling.

  "I must confess, Master Solo," C-3PO responded anxiously, "that I feel less than right about this - especially about mimicking Leia's voice to arrange for your passage."

  "Come on, Threepio. You've done it before. You did it to fool Grand Admiral Thrawn's forces."

  "That's not very reassuring, sir. What's more, that was a matter of protecting the princess from assassins. This is a matter of protecting you from ... I'm not quite sure what, Master Solo."

  "I'm not asking you to lie, Threepio," Han said, dragging the final word out. "I'm only asking you to overlook. If Leia doesn't ask you about me, then there's no need for you to say where I've gone."