Showdown At Centerpoint

by Roger MacBride Allen

  but we've wandered off the point again." "Thought we were talking about how

  humans different from us," Dracmus said. Han paused a moment, resisting the

  temptation to lose his temper again. He collected himself and then spoke.

  "I've got a feeling we're not going to get anywhere until we're all agreed

  on this, so okay. I'll tell you my reaction, and then maybe we can move on.

  I grew up with Selonians, and I never knew any of this. I admit it's

  embarrassing, but-" "Be not muchly embarrassed, Honored Solo," Dracmus said

  in a soothing voice. "Don't be forgetting the Selonians you met were

  trained-and bred-for sole purpose of dealing with humans. Is our job to make

  you feel comfy with us." "I know, I know. And they did a good job. I grew up

  thinking that Selonians were just funny-looking humans with a few quaint

  customs left over from the old days. But just to round this out, I should

  have found out how it worked, even if your people didn't want me to know.

  Back in my smuggling days, I made a career out of knowing what the other

  side's worldview was like-and yet I grew up knowing nothing about the people

  next door. It makes me wonder about the rest of my life, growing up on

  Corellia. How much else did I not see?" "Probably quite a bit," said Leia.

  "None of us ever really sees our own culture all that well." Han roiled his

  eyes. "Gee, there's an original thought. But even all this is off the point.

  What I was going to say was that it was embarrassing to find out how little

  I knew about you, .but that right now I don't care about being embarrassed.

  Treat me like a complete idiot, but make me understand what's going on. If

  I've got this straight, now that Kleyvits has admitted to being in the pay

  of the Triad, and admitted to smuggling some of them back onto the planet,

  that changes everything, right?" "Right," said Dracmus. "Excellent!" "Great.

  I'm glad. But how?" "Begging pardon?" "How. How does Kleyvits confessing

  change everything?" "Because it means my Hunchuzuc were tricked. We gave in

  under false pretenses. The Overden made us be thinking that the Overden ran

  the repulsor, and had smashed the Bakuran destroyer all by themselves. All

  was fraud," she said, her voice growing genuinely angry. "The Overden

  achieved a consensus favorable to themselves by trickery and deception, and

  by involving themselves with a dishonored and nameless Den. This is depth of

  crime. Even worse, the nameless Den was linked to Triad, and Triad linked to

  Sal-Solo, who kidnaps his own, steals children." "Guilt by association," Han

  said. "How advanced and sophisticated." Mara looked up at Han. "Think it

  through. In a group society run by consensus, guilt by association makes

  some sense." "Anyway," said Dracmus, "Overden in bad. No way could it be

  worse for them. You saw how Kleyvits caved in once the truth came out. That

  will be happening every time Hunchuzuc demands the truth of Overden

  Selonian. Overden will be losing so much face you'll be able to be seeing

  the back of their heads from the front. Hunchuzuc will take over. Take over

  consensus, take over much property-take over possession of the repulsor."

  "But the Sacorrian Selonians are still the ones running the repulsor," Luke

  objected. "Yes! And so we must wait. I know that human way-at least one

  human way-to deal with such problem would be to give the Sacorrian Selonians

  one chance to give up. If they didn't, in you go with all guns blazing

  nicely. But maybe everyone gets killed. You seize the repulsor, but have no

  idea where on switch is." Dracmus shook her head. "This is not Selonian way.

  We will talk with Sacorrian scums, nasty though job will be. We arc talking

  with them, right now. And we will talk to them. And talk to them. Finally,

  pressure--peer pressure on Sacorrians to give up--will be too much, and they

  will give up. And do more than giving up. They will cooperate with

  Hunchuzuc, tell us how to run machinery, as part of their penance for being

  on the losing side. This is how it will be. We just have to sit back and

  wait." "Sounds terrific," said Han. "So what's the catch?1' "The catch is

  all takes time. Everything I tell of will happen. Is inevitable. The trouble

  is like in old Selonian saying. The agreed-to we do at once. The inevitable

  can take a little while.' " "How big a little while?" asked Luke. Dracmus

  shook her head. "An hour. A day. A month. A year." Luke frowned. "An hour we

  have. Maybe even a day. But not much longer. Centerpoint Station is going to

  fire at Bovo Yagen in just over eighty-four hours. Unless we fire a

  planetary repulsor beam at Center- point at just the right moment, a whole

  solar system dies." "And a whole Sector starts to panic and wonder who's

  next, and a whole galaxy starts to wonder what the point is of a New

  Republic that can't protect them," said Leia. "And I hate to say it," said

  Han, "but they'd be absolutely right to start wondering." "Should I reset

  the breaker now?" Jacen asked. "Not yet. Just a sec," said Anakin, a bit

  absently. "One more of them to stick in." He was lying on his stomach,

  propped up on one elbow, leaning over the open underfloor access panel. He

  stared down into the morass of wires and cables and circuit boards for a

  minute or two, then reached in and pulled another of the fist-sized

  power-shunt transpacitors. It took a good solid yank to pull the thing out

  of its socket. He held it up and stared at it for a moment, almost as if he

  c ould see through it, into it. "Boy, did this get all melty inside." He set

  it to one side. "Jaina, gimme the one from the hyperdrive." Jaina handed him

  the last of the transpacitors they had gotten by cannibalizing the Falcon's

  faster-than-light drive. Anakin plugged it into the socket, then reconnected

  the power shunt board to the main sub-light engine circuit. "All right," he

  said to Jacen. "Push the reset." Jacen was sitting by the next access panel

  over, where the circuit breaker board was. He held his breath and threw the

  switch back to the on position. There was the slightest of pauses, and then

  the green status light came on. Jacen breathed a sigh of relief, then turned

  to Q9. "It worked, Chcwbacca. We ought to have repulsors and sublight

  engines now." Chewbacca's voice-an anxious yelp and a growl- answered,

  sounding as if it came from a little bit out of the comlink mike's normal

  range. There was something more than a bit incongruous about a Wookiee voice

  coming from Q9's speaker. "Chewbacca says to hurry," Ebrihim said, quite

  needlessly. "Okay, okay, we're hurrying,'1 Jacen said, getting to his feet.

  He closed the panel over the breaker box while Anakin closed up the one over

  the circuit board. "We're on our way to the cockpit now." The muffled sound

  of a comlink being fumbled about came from Q9's speaker, and then a hoot

  from Chewbacca and Ebrihim's slightly exasperated voice. "Give it back," he

  said, apparently to the Wookiee. "I'll tell them." There was a slight pause,

  and then Ebrihim's voice again, a bit louder and clearer. "Get moving as

  fast as you can," he said. The sun will be rising soon, and I'm sure our

  friend will be getting up as well." "All right, all right," muttered Jacen.

 
"Nag, nag, nag, all the time. Come on, Q9, let's go." "I still don't see why

  you couldn't have taken the time to go get another comlink out of stores,"

  said Q9, speaking in his own voice. "I don't enjoy being used as an

  intercom." Jacen smiled as he headed for the cockpit. "It saved us the five

  minutes of finding one and getting it tuned and matched to the one

  Chewbacca's using. Believe me, we needed the five minutes. Don't worry.

  We'll switch over to the ship's main com system in a minute." Jacen paused

  at the entrance to the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon. He had been in the

  cockpit many times before, of course-but this was different, very different.

  No one was keeping an eye on him this time, or making sure he didn't press

  any buttons, or shooing him away. No. This time, he was here to fly the

  ship. Fly her. The very idea terrified him. "Want to have a contest to see

  which one of us is more scared?" Jaina asked. Jacen turned around and

  smiled. His twin sister and

  his little brother were behind him, all three of them standing fight at the

  threshold of the cockpit. "I don't know," he said. "How close do you think

  it will be?" "Not close at all. I bet I'm a zillion times more scared than

  you." "Don't be so sure about that," said Jacen. "/ bet it's a tie." "I'm

  not scared," said Anakin. "I'll fly her, if you want." "I might take you up

  on that one if you weren't too short to reach the controls properly," said

  Jacen. "Might I remind ail of you of the need for haste at this point?"

  asked Q9. "I believe I have gotten over my recent bout with paranoia, but

  let us not forget that there really is someone out to get us." "He's got a

  point," Jacen said. He turned to Jaina. "Which seat do you want? Pilot or

  copilot?" Jaina paused for a moment, and then smiled. "Like father, like

  son. You take Dad's seat at pilot. He'd like it that way. I bet Mom would

  too." Jacen smiled back at her, then climbed in and took his place at the

  pilot's station, adjusting the seat up as high and as far forward as it

  would go. Jaina did the same. "All right, Chewie," said Jacen, "we're

  switching over to the ship's main comm system-now." He reached over to the

  com panel and threw the appropriate switch. "That's a relief," said Q9. "Can

  you still read us?" Jacen asked. An answering roar came from the overhead

  speaker, and Jacen hastily turned down the volume. "Good," said Jaina. "All

  right, Jacen. Seat restraint fastened?" "Definitely," said Jacen. He glanced

  behind him and made sure that Anakin, seated in the observer's seat behind

  Jaina, also had his belt on. Q9 had clamped himself to a stanchion.

  "Everyone set?" "Not quite," said Jaina. "Those Human League guys are going

  to come after us the moment we take off. Maybe we should sort of slow down

  good old cousin Thrackan a little bit before we leave." "Wait a second,"

  protested Jacen, but Jaina had already activated the fire controls for the

  Falcon's ventral laser cannon. Jacen could hear the whir of the motors as

  the cannon came out of the hull. "I figure one aimed shot at the force field

  generator, and then I re-aim as fast as I can and take a crack at the

  assault boat." "The force field generator? Suppose you miss and hit Chewie

  and the Drall?" "I can't hit them. They're behind the force field, remember?

  You just be ready to get us moving straight up on the repulsors the split

  second I tell you to. I don't think we should try anything with the sublight

  engines until we have a little room to maneuver." Jacen shook his head

  doubtfully. "All right," he said. "But be sure you remember whose idea it

  was to start shooting. Hold on a second." He studied his control boards for

  a moment, and then flicked a series of power switches on. The ship gave a

  sort of eager little shudder, and Jacen felt a low hum of power flow through

  the ship. "There we go," he said. "Repulsors and sublight engines at

  standby." "Chewie---get as close to the center of the containment as you can

  and shield your eyes, and tell the others to do the same.1' A howl of

  protest came over the intercom. "Will you relax?" Jaina said. "This will

  work, trust me. You guys just get ready to run and hide as soon as the force

  field goes down. Here we go." Jaina stared down at the gunnery display,

  making minute adjustments to the ventral laser's aim. "One aimed shot," she

  said again. "Either it works or it doesn't. Chewie- Ebrihim-Aunt Marcha-get

  ready!" "And they all think I've been acting strangely," said Q9. "One shot,

  on the count of three, then I re-aim on

  the assault boat and shoot it up as best I can. Jacen, don't boost till I

  tell you to, al! right?" "All right, fine! I heard you the first time!"

  "Here we go," Jaina said again. "One- Jacen boosted himself up on his scat a

  bit to see what was about to happen. "Two- Should he try harder to stop her?

  Jaina was going too far, but there really wasn't time to argue.

  "THREE!"

  A blast of fire roared from the ventral laser cannon, catching the force

  field generator square in the center of the control panel. It exploded in a

  gout of fire that seemed to light up the entire repulsor chamber. The force

  field winked out of existence. The blaze of light dazzled Jacen, but Jaina

  had been watching her targeting screen. She swung the laser cannon around in

  the general direction of the assault boat and fired again. The first shot

  missed the boat completely, the blast of light bouncing off the reflective

  walls of the chamber to ricochet around a dozen times before it dissipated.

  She fired again, and hit the left rear landing skid of the boat, kicking the

  body of the boat up a half meter or so before it slammed down to the decks

  with a tremendous crash. She tried one more shot and missed completely

  again. The blast bounced back and forth off the walls and floors of the

  chamber. Jacen could see three figures, one large and two small, running for

  the nearest entrance to the side caverns. Good. At least his sister hadn't

  killed them outright when she blew up that generator. "Jaina, the way those

  shots are ricocheting, you're more likely to hit Chewie than Thrackan." She

  shook her head. "You're right," she said. "Go. Let's get out of here."

  "Everyone hang on to something," said Jacen. "I've never done this before."

  He pulled back on the repulsor power control, and the Millennium Falcon

  lumbered up into the sky. Thrackan Sal-Solo went sailing out of bed and

  crashed to the floor of his cabin. He lay there, half stunned for a moment,

  and then scrambled to his feet. The room was pitch-dark for a moment, but

  then the emergency lighting cut in. Thrackan had taken over the captain's

  cabin in the assault boat, putting him in the only private space on board.

  Even so, the cabin was small enough that it took him a minute to realize

  that the deck was canted badly downward to the right and rear of the boat.

  What had happened? He could hear shouting, panicking voices in the corridor.

  He pulled on a robe and stepped out of his cabin. Thrackan stepped out into

  a milling, chaotic throng, a tangled knot of frightened, confused men. He

  spotted the boat's captain, struggling to get forward to the control room.

  Thrackan
grabbed the man by the shoulder. "Captain Thrag-what in blazes is

  going on?" he demanded. "I don't know, sir," Thrag shouted back. He was

  short, fat, and bald, and not the most appealing person to see in his

  underwear this late at night, so long since his last shave. But there was a

  clear-eyed, hard-headed sort of integrity about the man. He took orders from

  Thrackan without being afraid of him. A rarity, that. "Some shots, and then

  some explosions, at least two of them. One pretty far off, and the other

  right under us. I think we lost one of the landing skids." "That can't be.

  Let's get forward." The two of them shoved their way forward to the control

  cabin. The captain hit the button and the hatch slid open, offering a clear

  view out the forward viewport. "Burning stars," gasped Thrackan. "Look at

  that," said Thrag. "I don't believe it." The force field generator was a

  pillar of fire, the reflection of the flame glittering and gleaming from

  every corner of the silver walls of the repulsor chamber. The force field

  itself was gone, and the prisoners had vanished. There seemed little doubt

  about where they had gone, either. There was the Millennium Falcon, rising

  straight up off the ground, headed for the sky. "After them!" "But the ship

  was hit by laser fire!" Thrag protested. "We have damage! We have to check

  it first." "No! If the ship is damaged, we fly with damage! Fly! Go!" "That

  would put the life of every man aboard at risk." "Every man aboard is at

  risk of execution right now anyway, for dereliction of duty," Thrackan

  snarled. "What about the man on watch? He should have been here. He should

  have raised the alert. Where is he?" The captain laughed bitterly and hooked

  his thumb toward the rear of the boat. "With the rest of the sleepy drunks

  back there, would be my guess." "What are you saying?" "I'm saying look at

  the crew your people sent me. Dregs and scum, all of them. By the time men

  get posted to low-life duty like tending an assault boat, a lot of other

  people have turned them down. What do you expect when you recruit thugs?"

  "Weil, if they've all been rejected, then they won't be much missed when

  they all get killed. Launch this boat now!" Thrag looked Thrackan straight

  in the eye, and then saluted. "Very well, sir. But on your head be it," he