by James Luceno
The vanguard had just reached the target street when, in perfect synchronization, the stormtroopers abruptly changed formation. Those in the inner circle pulled in closer to Luke and Mara while those in the outer circle moved farther away, the whole crowd coming to a halt and gesturing to their prisoners to do the same. A moment later, the reason for the sudden maneuver came around the corner: four scruffy-looking men walking briskly toward them with a fifth man in the center of their square, his hands chained behind him.
They had barely emerged from the street when they were intercepted by a group of four stormtroopers. A short and inaudible conversation ensued, which concluded with the strangers handing their blasters over to the stormtroopers with obvious reluctance. Escorted now by the Imperials, they continued on toward the main group … and as they walked, Luke finally got a clear look at the prisoner.
It was Han Solo.
The stormtroopers opened their ranks slightly to let the newcomers through. “What do you want?” the major demanded as they stopped in front of him.
“Name’s Chin,” one of them said. “We caught this ratch snooping around the forest—maybe looking for your prisoners there. Figured you might want to have a talk with him, hee?”
“Uncommonly generous of you,” the major said sardonically, giving Han a quick, measuring glance. “You come to this conclusion all by yourself?”
Chin drew himself up. “Just because I don’t live in a big flashy city doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” he said stiffly. “What hai—you think we don’t know what it means when Imperial stormtroopers2 start setting up a temporary garrison?”
The major gave him a long, cool look. “You’d best just hope that the garrison is temporary.” He glanced at the stormtrooper beside him, jerked his head toward Han. “Check him for weapons.”
“We already—” Chin began. The major looked at him, and he fell silent.
The frisking took only a minute, and came up empty. “Put him in the pocket with the others,” the major ordered. “All right, Chin, you and your friends can go. If he turns out to be worth anything, I’ll see you get a piece of it.”
“Uncommonly generous of you,” Chin said with an expression that was just short of a sneer. “Can we have our guns back now?”
The major’s expression hardened. “You can pick them up later at our HQ,” he said. “Hyllyard Hotel, straight across the square—but I’m sure a sophisticated citizen like yourself already knows where it is.”
For a moment Chin seemed inclined to argue the point. But a glance at the stormtroopers clustered around evidently changed his mind for him. Without a word he turned, and he and his three companions strode back toward the city.
“Move out,” the major ordered, and they started up again.
“Well,” Han muttered, falling into step beside Luke. “Together again, huh?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Luke muttered back. “Your friends there seem in a hurry to get away.”
“Probably don’t want to miss the party,” Han told him. “A little something they threw together to celebrate my capture.”
Luke threw him a sideways look. “Shame we weren’t invited.”
“Real shame,” Han agreed with a straight face. “You never know, though.”
They had turned into the avenue now, moving toward the center of town. Just visible over the heads of the stormtroopers, he could see something gray and rounded directly ahead of them. Craning his neck for a better view, he saw that the structure was in fact a freestanding archway, rising from the ground near the far end of the open village square he had noticed earlier.
A fairly impressive archway, too, especially for a city this far outside the mainstream of the galaxy. The upper part was composed of different types of fitted stone, the crown flaring outward like a cross between an umbrella and a section of sliced mushroom. The lower part curved in and downward, to end in a pair of meter-square supporting pillars on each side. The entire arch rose a good ten meters into the sky, with the distance between the pillars perhaps half that. Lying directly in front of it was the village square, a fifteen-meter expanse of empty ground.
The perfect place for an ambush.
Luke felt his stomach tighten. The perfect place for an ambush … except that if it was obvious to him, it must be obvious to the stormtroopers, as well.
And it was. The vanguard of the party had reached the square now, and as the stormtroopers moved out of the confines of the narrow avenue, each lifted his blaster rifle a little higher and moved a little farther apart from his fellows. They were expecting an ambush, all right. And they were expecting it right here.
Gritting his teeth, Luke focused again on the archway. “Is Threepio here?” he muttered to Han.
He sensed Han’s frown, but the other didn’t waste time with unnecessary questions. “He’s with Lando, yeah.”
Luke nodded and glanced down to his right. Beside him, Artoo was rolling along the bumpy street, trying hard to keep up. Bracing himself, Luke took a step in that direction—
And with a squeal, Artoo tripped over Luke’s outstretched foot and fell flat with a crash.
Luke was crouched beside him in an instant, leaning over him as he struggled with his manacled hands to get the little droid upright again. He sensed some of the stormtroopers moving forward to assist, but for that single moment, there was no one else close enough to hear him. “Artoo, call to Threepio,” he breathed into the droid’s audio receptor. “Tell him to wait until we’re at the archway to attack.”
The droid complied instantly, its loud warble nearly deafening Luke as he crouched there beside him. Luke’s head was still ringing when rough hands grabbed him under the arms and hauled him to his feet. He regained his balance—
To find the major standing in front of him, a suspicious scowl on his face. “What was that?” the other demanded.
“He fell over,” Luke told him. “I think he tripped—”
“I meant that transmission,” the major cut him off harshly. “What did he say?”
“He was probably telling me off for tripping him,” Luke shot back. “How should I know what he said?”
For a long minute the major glared at him. “Move out, Commander,” he said at last to the stormtrooper at his side. “Everyone stay alert.”
He turned away, and they started walking again. “I hope,” Han murmured from beside him, “you know what you’re doing.”
Luke took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on the archway ahead. “So do I,” he murmured back.
In a very few minutes, he knew, they would both find out.
C H A P T E R 29
“Oh, my!” Threepio gasped. “General Calrissian, I have—”
“Quiet, Threepio,” Lando ordered, peering carefully around the edge of the window at the minor commotion going on across the square. “Did you see what happened, Aves?”
Crouched down beneath the windowsill, Aves shook his head. “Looked like Skywalker and his droid both fell over,” he said. “Couldn’t tell for sure—too many stormtroopers in the way.”
“General Calrissian—”
“Quiet, Threepio.” Lando watched tensely as two stormtroopers pulled Luke to his feet, then righted Artoo. “Looks like they’re okay.”
“Yeah.” Aves reached down to the floor beside him, picked up the small transmitter. “Here we go. Let’s hope everyone’s ready.”
“And that Chin and the others aren’t still carrying their blasters,” Lando added under his breath.
Aves snorted. “They aren’t. Don’t worry—stormtroopers are always confiscating other people’s weapons.”
Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on his blaster, wishing they could get this over with. Across the way, the Imperials seemed to have gotten themselves sorted out and were starting to move again. As soon as they were all inside the square, away from any possible cover …
“General Calrissian, I must speak to you,” Threepio insisted. “I have a message from Master Luke.”
Lando blinked at him. “From Luke?”
—but even as he said it he suddenly remembered that electronic wail from Artoo just after he’d fallen over. Could that have been—? “What is it?”
“Master Luke wants you to hold off the attack,” Threepio said, obviously relieved that someone was finally listening to him. “He says you’re to wait until the stormtroopers are at the arch before firing.”
Aves twisted around. “What? That’s crazy. They outnumber us three to one—we give them any chance at all at cover and they’ll cut us to pieces.”
Lando looked out the window, grinding his teeth together. Aves was right—he knew enough of ground tactics to realize that. But on the other hand … “They’re awfully spread out out there,” he said. “Cover or no cover, they’re going to be hard to take out. Especially with those speeder bikes on their perimeter.”
Aves shook his head. “It’s crazy,” he repeated. “I’m not going to risk my people that way.”
“Luke knows what he’s doing,” Lando insisted. “He’s a Jedi.”
“He’s not a Jedi now,” Aves snorted. “Didn’t Karrde explain about the ysalamiri?”
“Whether he has Jedi powers or not, he’s still a Jedi,” Lando insisted. His blaster, he realized suddenly, was pointed at Aves. But that was okay, because Aves’s blaster was pointed at him, too. “Anyway, his life is more on the line here than any of yours—you can always abort and pull back.”
“Oh, sure,” Aves snorted, throwing a glance out the window. The Imperials were nearing the middle of the square now, Lando saw, the stormtroopers looking wary and alert as anything. “Except that if we leave any of them alive, they’ll seal off the city. And what about that Chariot up there?”
“What about it?” Lando countered. “I still haven’t heard how you’re planning to take it out.”
“Well, we sure as blazes don’t want it on the ground,” Aves retorted. “And that’s what’ll happen if we let the stormtroopers get to the arch. The Chariot’ll put down right across the front of it, right between us and them. That, plus the arch itself, will give them all the cover they need to sit back and take us out at their leisure.” He shook his head and shifted his grip on the transmitter. “Anyway, it’s too late to clue in the others to any plan changes.”
“You don’t have to clue them in,” Lando said, feeling sweat collecting under his collar. Luke was counting on him. “No one’s supposed to do anything until you trigger the booby-trapped weapons.”
Aves shook his head again. “It’s too risky.” He turned back to the window, raised the transmitter.
And here, Lando realized—right here—was where it all came down to the wire. Where you decided who or what it was you trusted. Tactics and abstract logic … or people. Lowering his blaster, he gently rested the tip of the muzzle against Aves’s neck. “We wait,” he said quietly.
Aves didn’t move; but suddenly there was something in the way he crouched there that reminded Lando of a hunting predator. “I won’t forget this, Calrissian,” he said, his voice icy soft.
“I wouldn’t want you to,” Lando said. He looked out at the stormtroopers … and hoped that Luke did indeed know what he was doing.1
The vanguard had already passed the archway, and the major was only a few steps away from it, when four of the stormtroopers abruptly blew up.
Quite spectacularly, too. The simultaneous flashes of yellow-white fire lit up the landscape to almost painful intensity; the thunderclap of the multiple detonations nearly knocked Luke over.
The sound was still ringing in his ears when the blasters opened up behind them.
The stormtroopers were good, all right. There was no panic that Luke could detect; no sudden freezing in astonishment or indecision. They were moving into combat position almost before the blaster fire had begun: those already at the archway hugging close to the stone pillars to return covering fire, the rest moving quickly to join them. Above the sound of the blasters, he could hear the increased whine of the speeder bikes kicking into high speed; overhead, he caught just a glimpse of the Chariot assault vehicle swiveling around to face the unseen attackers.
And then an armored hand caught him under each armpit, and suddenly he was being hauled toward the archway. A few seconds later he was dumped unceremoniously in the narrow gap between the two pillars supporting the north side of the arch. Mara was already crouched there; a second later, two more stormtroopers tossed Han in to join them. Four of the Imperials moved into position over them, using the pillars for cover as they began returning fire. Struggling to his knees, Luke leaned out for a look.
Out in the fire zone, looking small and helpless amid the deadly horizontal hail of blaster fire, Artoo was rolling toward them as fast as his little wheels would carry him.
“I think we’re in trouble,” Han muttered in his ear. “Not to mention Lando and the others.”
“It’s not over yet,” Luke told him tightly. “Just stick close. How are you at causing distractions?”
“Terrific,” Han said; and to Luke’s surprise, he brought his hands out from behind his back, the chain and manacles he’d been wearing hanging loosely from his left wrist. “Trick cuffs,” he grunted, pulling a concealed strip of metal from the inside of the open cuff and probing at Luke’s restraints. “I hope this thing—ah.” The pressure on Luke’s wrists was suddenly gone; the cuffs opened and dropped to the ground. “You ready for your distraction?” Han asked, taking the loose end of his chain in his free hand.
“Hang on a minute,” Luke told him, looking up. Most of the speeder bikes had taken refuge under the arch, looking like some strange species of giant birds hiding from a storm as they hovered close to the stone, their laser cannon spitting toward the surrounding houses. In front of them and just below their line of fire, the Chariot had swiveled parallel to the arch and was coming down. Once it was on the ground …
A hand gripped Luke’s arm, fingernails digging hard into the skin. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it!” Mara hissed viciously. “If the Chariot gets down, you’ll never get them out from cover.”
“I know.” Luke nodded. “I’m counting on it.”
The Chariot settled smoothly to the ground directly in front of the arch, blocking the last of the attackers’ firing vectors. Crouched at the window, Aves swore violently. “Well, there’s your Jedi for you,” he bit out. “You got any other great ideas, Calrissian?”
Lando swallowed hard. “We’ve just got to give him—”
He never finished the sentence. From the arch a blaster bolt glanced off the window frame, and suddenly Lando’s upper arm flashed with pain. The shock sent him stumbling backward, just as a second shot blew apart that whole section of the frame, driving wooden splinters and chunks of masonry like shrapnel across his chest and arm.
He hit the floor, landing hard enough to see stars. Blinking, gritting his teeth against the pain, he looked up—
To find Aves leaning over him.
Lando looked up into the other’s face. I won’t forget this, Aves had said, no more than three minutes ago. And from the look on his face, he wasn’t anticipating any need to hold that memory for much longer. “He’ll come through,” Lando whispered through the pain. “He will.”
But he could tell that Aves wasn’t listening … and, down deep, Lando couldn’t blame him. Lando Calrissian, the professional gambler, had gambled one last time. And he’d lost.
And the debt from that gamble—the last in a long line of such debts—had come due.
The Chariot settled smoothly to the ground directly in front of the arch, and Luke got his feet under him. This was it. “All right, Han,” he muttered. “Go.”
Han nodded and surged to his feet, coming up right in the middle of the four stormtroopers standing over them. With a bellow, he swung his former shackles full across the faceplate of the nearest guard, then threw the looped chain around the neck of the next and pulled backward, away from the pillars. The other two reacted instantly,
leaping after him and taking the whole group down in a tangle.
And for the next few seconds, Luke was free.
He stood up and leaned out to look around the pillar. Artoo was still in the middle of no-man’s-land, hurrying to reach cover before he could be hit by a stray shot. He warbled plaintively as he saw Luke—
“Artoo!—now!” Luke shouted, holding out his hand and glancing across toward the southern end of the archway. Between the stone pillars and the grounded Chariot, the stormtroopers were indeed solidly entrenched. If this didn’t work, Han was right: Lando and everyone else out there were dead. Gritting his teeth, hoping fervently that his counterattack wasn’t already too late, he turned back to Artoo—
Just as, with a flicker of silver metal and perfect accuracy, his lightsaber dropped neatly into his outstretched hand.
Beside him, the guards had subdued Han’s crazy attack and were getting back to their feet, leaving Han on his knees between them. Luke took them all in a single sweep, the blazing green lightsaber blade slicing through the glistening stormtrooper armor with hardly a tug to mark its passing. “Get behind me,” he snapped to Han and Mara, stepping back to the gap between the two northern pillars and focusing on the mass of Imperials standing and crouching between him and the southern pillars. They were suddenly aware that they had an unexpected threat on their flank, and a few were already starting to bring their blasters to bear on him.
With the Force to guide his hand, he could have held out against them indefinitely, blocking their blaster shots with the lightsaber. Mara had been right, though: the ysalamiri effect did indeed extend this far outside the forest, and the Force was still silent.
