of his own destruction. It had nearly happened in the recent past, and the
odds seemed fairly high that it would happen in the near future. Under the
circumstances, deliberately shutting oneself off seemed the height of folly.
Suppose one component had failed, or was on the verge of failing, and his
diagnostics had missed it? Suppose he loaded a timed wake-up event, went
into standby, and then the wake-up command was never implemented? In short,
he had no desire to turn himself off when he was not confident he couid turn
himself back on again. Clearly, it was an absurd state of affairs, but there
it was. Q9 was afraid to go to sleep. He settled in to wait some more.
Gaeriel Captison stood on the hangar deck of the Sentinel, next to the Lady
Luck. "I don'l think there's any argument about what we should do," she
said. "We go on to Drall, and rendezvous with the Intruder."
ugrave;'Absolutely,'5 said Lando. "If someone has already found a repulsor
there, that is the place to be."' "Not for me it isn't." said Jenica.
"Sentinel and Defender are keeping watch on Centerpoint Station, and I'm the
closest thing to an expert on Centerpoint they're going to get. 1 stay
here." Lando nodded. "You're right," he said. "Lieutenant Kalenda, what
about you?" Kalendu cocked her left eyebrow up a bit and shook her head
slightly. "A tough call," she said. "But at this point, I'd say my place is
with Admiral Ossilege." So you can keep an eye on him? Lando wondered. "Good
enough," he said. "Get aboard, then." "What about me?" Threepio asked.
"Shall I continue on with you? It is more likely that my language skills
will be more useful on a trip to Drall than here." Lando was sorely tempted
to refuse and leave Threepio behind. But the irritating thing was that the
droid might be right. Suppose they got to the repulsor and encountered Drall
who didn't speak Basic? "Get aboard," he growled. Threepio trotted up the
access ramp. Gaeriel and Kalenda said their farewells to Jenica and boarded
the Lady Luck. Lando waited jusl a mo- ment before going aboard. There was
something more he wanted to say to Jenica Sonsen, something he might not get
the chance to say again. And by the amused look on her face, it seemed as if
she was expecting him to say something. In fact, she said it first. "Is this
the part where you tell me how you never met anyone like me, and how you
want to get to know me better? That sort of thing? Maybe something about how
we've been through a lot together, we've made a connection, and we shouldn't
just let it drift away? Some nice, smooth line a lady couldn't help but fall
for?" Lando couldn't quite tell if she was mocking him or daring him,
warning him off or urging him on. The strange thing was it didn't matter. He
had been shot down in romance plenty of times before, but there was a little
piece of him that felt quite sure this would not have been one of those
times. But this time, there wasn't going to be a this time. Lando sighed and
shook his head. "There was a time, not very long ago, when I would have said
those words, and meant every one of them--at least, while I was saying them,
even if I sort of forgot them later. The problem is, I did say something
very like them to another lady, very recently, and I did mean it at the
time. The funny thing is, for the first time in my life, I'm catching myself
jy/// meaning it. I might even mean it for a long, long time. So I'm afraid
I'm going to have to back off." Jenica looked surprised-though not half as
surprised as Lando felt. "You know," she said, "that might be the classiest
speech of its kind on record. I think you've got yourself a very lucky lady
out there, and I don't mean the Lady Luck." She stuck out her hand to shake,
and Lando took it. "Take care of yourself, Lando. I must admit I almost wish
you had made a play for me--just so I could know for sure what I would have
done about it. Now I guess I'll never know." Lando smiled back, his
broadest, most charming grin that showed every tooth in his head. "Neither
will I," he said. "You take care of yourself too." He let go of her hand,
boarded the Lady Luck, and made his way to the pilot's station. Gaeriel was
waiting in the starboard observer's seat, and Kalenda was at the copilot's
station. "So," said Kalenda as she ran the preflight check, "is she going to
let you call her?" Her eyes never left the instruments, but there was just
the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Lando wasn't sure, but he
thought he heard a very un-ex-Prime-Ministerial giggle from behind him as he
sat down. "Excuse me?" he asked. "Call her. You asked if you could look her
up after this was all over. Did she say yes or no?" Lando felt himself
blushing. Had it been that obvious? Was his reputation that bad? "Urn, ah,
well-if you have to know, she asked if J was going to ask, and I said I
couldn't. Promises made elsewhere." This time Kalenda did turn away from the
instruments, to look straight at him. "You're kidding," she said, that
disconcerting over-her-shoulder gaze of hers throwing him more than a little
off. "Ah, no," said Lando. "I'm not. I don't know why I should tell you any
of this at all, but that's what happened. Trader's Honor." Kalenda let out a
low whistle and shook her head. "Well'then, Madame Prime Minister. It looks
like our little bet is off. Captain Calrissian, why don't you get us out of
here?" "Uh, um-right, yes," said Lando. He finished his own preflight check
and gently lifted the Lady up onto her repulsors. There were definitely
times and places when he realized that he still had a lot to learn about
women. The Lady Luck left the hangar deck, gathered speed, and headed for
Drall-and for the Intruder. Luke Skywalker eased the X-wing's throttle up to
maximum thrust and kept it there. The dance of the orbits had put Selonia
just about as close to Centerpoint and the Double Worlds as it ever got, but
the distances were still great-and he was in a hurry. He, too, had wondered
what the absence of the Intruder had meant, hut he had no lime to worry
about it. He had a job and a duty. Bovo Yagen, and its millions of people.
Now, at last, they had at least a hope of saving them. And if- if-they could
stop the destruction of Bovo Yagcn, it might well mark the beginning of the
end for the starbusler plot and the rebellions on the worlds of the
Corellian system. But the galaxy had little interest in ifs. The universe
concerned itself willi what did happen, not with what might. They had a
slender chance here, but that was all. And the survival of those twelve
million people might well depend nn how fast lie got to Selonia, and Lei a.
Twelve million people. Luke remembered thinking, not so long ago, that in
the galactic lime scale, what happened here scarcely mattered at all. All of
recorded history, all the days of myth and legend before that time, were a
blink in the cosmic eye. But twelve million people, twelve million lives.
That many hopes, that many dreams and pasts, that many families, that many
memories and histories that would vanish as well, as if they had never been.
All the unborn generations that would never be born, all the promise, ali
the potential, that would be gone, stolen from the galaxy's future. Surely
it was wrong to destroy a star, something that old. that big, that powerful
and complex and beautiful, just for the sake of some transient political
advantage. Luke smiled. No one was going to use supernovas as weapons. Not
during his eye blink of history. Not if he could help it. Artoo beeped and
whirred in tones of warning, and Luke checked his display screens. "Oh,
boy," he said, "company." A flight of eight Light Attack Fighters was
climbing out of orbit to meet him. It was not the sort of trouble Luke
needed just now. Maybe he could scare them off without getting too involved.
Luke eased back the throttle of the X-wing and zeroed out his shields
completely, shunting all the surplus engine and shield energy to his weapons
system. Artoo let out a twittering squeal of protest. "Take it easy, Artoo.
I'll have the shields back up before we're in range of their weapons.'' Luke
had flown against LAFs not so long ago. He knew what they could do- and what
they could not. The LAFs were overmatched by the basic X-wing, but not to
the point where he cared to take his chances against eight LAFs
single-handed. The best way for Luke to win this fight was to avoid it
altogether. The trick now would be to convince them that Luke and his
enhanced X-wing fighter put together were unbeatable rather than just very
good. Luke reached out with the Force, extending his senses as far as he
could, touching the minds of the Selonian fighter pilots, seeking not to
manipulate their emotional state but to judge it. The Selonian temperament,
with its desire for group consensus, was not one much given over to the
strains of battle. They did better when fighting alone, on behalf of a
group, rather than as part of a group fighting side by side. He felt at once
that the Selonian pilots were nervous, jumpy, unsure. From two or three of
their minds he detected the sensation of returning to a place of doom and
fear. At a guess, those were veterans of the recent fight against the
Bakurans, veterans who had just barely come back. It was enough. If Luke did
this right, then everyone would come back from this one. They might not
enjoy it, but they'd be alive. Luke checked his power displays. Weapons
power was at maximum. Luke shifted all his shield generation power and
weapons-charging power into the propul- sion system, and throttled up to a
hundred twenty percent of maximum rated thrust. The X-wing leapt toward the
LAFs at terrifying speed. Two of the LAFs fired at him, panicky unaimcd
shots that went completely wild. One of them nearly shot his own wing-man.
Luke knew the chance he was taking, flying without shields. If one of those
random shots turned lucky and managed to connect-well, that would be too
bad. Best to 117 to get this over with before anything like that could
happen. This one would require all his skill, all his ability in the
Force-and a fair amount of luck as well. Luke disengaged the firing
computer, shut his eyes, and aimed the X-wing by feel, by instinct, through
the Force. Once, twice, three times, he fired. Three turbolascr bursts leapt
out. One, two, three, the bursts hit the LAFs, catching each of them square
on the ventral weapons pod. Suddenly three of the LAFs could fly, but could
not fight. It was flying, and shooting, intended to send a message. / am
faster than yon, bigger than you, have better weapons than you, and can
.shoo! from farther away. I could destroy you all if I chose io do so. I do
not so choose. Do not make me change my mind. The three veterans got the
message right away, it seemed, reversing course immediately and heading for
home. Two of the other LAFs hesitated for a moment, then followed the
others. That left three to deal with, and three was a lot better than eight.
On the other hand, it left him facing the three pilots who were hardest to
scare. The three of them were headed for him in a face-on triangle, one
fighter at each angle of the triangle. They were rapidly closing to firing
range. Luke throttled back enough to let him put his forward shields back
on, but he didn't switch power back to weapons charging. One way or another,
this engagement would be over before his weapons systems ran out of stored
power. Suddenly Artoo began to whistle excitedly, and a text message began
to scroll past Luke's display screen, much too fast for Luke to follow.
"Artoo, what is it?" The droid's half-frantic beeping and whistling sounded
in Luke's headphones. Luke checked his de-lector display, saw the three LAFs
closing fast, and made a quick, easy decision about priorities. "Artoo,
later/" Luke said. "I've got another problem right now. Whatever it is. it's
going to have to wait." These three pilots weren't easy to scare, but they
weren't the best tacticians, either. They were bunched up too close, too
tight. A shot that missed one of them was almost bound to hit one of the
others. Maybe he could use that. But he would have to do it before he got in
under their firing range. Still unwilling to kill without need, Luke thought
fast. Suddenly he thought he saw a way. He switched the fire control
selector from LASER to TORPEDO, and rapidly punched in a series of commands,
reprogram-ming one proton torpedo for distant proximity fusing. Suddenly all
three LAFs fired at once, concentrated volley fire. It would seem the LAF
pilots were managing to coordinate their fire in spite of the communications
jamming. Maybe these pilots knew their business better than he thought. The
laser blasts slammed into the X-wing, and Luke gave thanks that he had
thought to reactivate the shields when he did. The X-wing's forward shields
handled the multiple hits, but just barely. Luke knew he had to get out of
here, and fast, if he was going to live through this. One last trick. He
fired the reprograrnmed proton torpedo square into the center of the LAF
formation. The X-wing shuddered slightly as the torpedo leapt away. Part of
what Luke was counting on was the element of surprise. No one used proton
torpedoes in fighter-to-fighter encounters. They were slower and less
accurate-but more powerful-than turbolasers, intended for use against bigger
targets. The three LAFs fired in volley again, the incoming laser blasts
streaking past the outgoing torpedo. Luke's X-wing shuddered from stern to
stern as the second laser volley slammed into it. Luke checked his shields
and shook his head. The next volley would punch through his shield for sure.
Luke cut his engines, letting the X-wing move on its own forward momentum
alone. Let them think he had lost engine power. It might make him that much
harder to find when- The proton torpedo exploded precisely in the middle of
the LAF formation, lighting up the sky. no doubt blinding the pilots, at
least for a second or two, and, with any luck, scrambling half their
instruments as well. Luke reengaged his engines, accelerating at maximum
power, right into the blast of the proton torpedo, right through the middle
of the opposing fighter formation. The X-wing bucked and slammed and
shuddered as it flew straight into the explosion's shock wave, i
ts weakened
shields offering just barely enough protection. Luke flew into the blast of
the torpedo, hanging on for dear life as he rode the maelstrom. Then,
suddenly, it was over. He was through, clear, safe. Luke checked his
detector screens. Two of the LAFs were tumbling, clearly disabled, at least
for the moment, while the third seemed to be in only marginal control. One
of the disabled fighters seemed to be starting to recover as he watched, but
Luke knew better than to stick around to sec how it all came out. He came
about on a new heading, straight for Selonia. Luke breathed a sigh of
relief. That one had been just a bit too close. There were times when the
advantages of being a Jedi Master could turn around and bite you, no doubt
about it. A regular fighter pilot without the power to use the Force
wouldn't have felt any moral obligation to risk his own life while using the
Force to spare his enemies. Luke smiled faintly to him- self. One of these
old days, his moral obligations to spare life were going to get him killed.
Artoo whistled again for his attention. Luke reconfigured his power levels
back to normal distribution and leaned back in his pilot's seat. "Alt right,
Artoo," he said. "What is it?" Artoo took control of the main status display
screen and showed him. The display paged to communications status, and Luke
saw it there for himself. "The communications jamming is down!" he said.
"But why- But Artoo answered Luke's question before Luke could finish asking
it. The screen cleared again, and Artoo began playing back a message he had
recorded even as Luke was chasing off the LAFs. A grinning, stylized human
skull with a knife between its teeth appeared on the screen, with a blaring
shout of triumphal music behind it. Luke recognized the skull. The symbol of
the Human League. The skull faded out, to be replaced by the only somewhat
more pleasant features of a smiling Thrackan Sal-Solo. But Luke was not
smiling as he listened to what the man had to say.
CHAPTER E LE V E N
The Ripples Spread It was evening, and Kieyvits and Dracmus were just on the
point of leaving. Han had lost count of the number of times they had come to
eali, asking if Leia had changed her mind yet. This had to be the third or
fourth visit already today. Clearly, they did not know when to give up.
Showdown At Centerpoint Page 19
