She wondered for an instant what her father thought. Then she decided she didn’t care.
At least she was believed dead. She clung to that certainty, even as fury seethed in her. And she was fighting back.
The rasp of Kota’s throat made her jump and guiltily clear the screen—before remembering that he was blind.
“I think the time has come to check on your friend,” the general said. “He’s been quiet a little too long.”
“You’re right. And I’m sure he’d like to know what I’ve found out.” She outlined the news that Wookiee slaves were going to be ferried elsewhere for an unknown reason. “Do you think your friend in the Senate knows anything about this?”
“I’m sure of it,” Kota said.
“Do you think that’s why we’re really here?”
“I think it’s possible to fix two problems with one solution. Or make the attempt, anyway.”
“I guess we’ll see what we will see.” She began opening a comm channel, then realized what she had said. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” Kota said gruffly. “It’s just a figure of speech.”
All conversation between them died. From Starkiller’s comlink came the sound of screaming machinery.
CHAPTER 19
JUNO’S WAS TRYING to tell him something, and it sounded like it might be important.
Whatever it was, it would have to wait.
The foot of an AT-ST walker came down right next to him, making every tooth in his head shake. The apprentice didn’t break stride. He had timed his run perfectly, dodging the concussion grenades and energy bolts fired by the gunner and approaching from underneath, where the plating was weakest. The bulky head swiveled and turned above him, trying to get a bead on the unarmored man who dared single-handedly attack it. He could read the pilot’s disbelief secondhand through the movement of the machine.
The apprentice took a deep breath and executed an acrobatic aerial somersault that brought his lightsaber into range of both knee joints, three control junctions, and the drive engine. The AT-ST shuddered midstep as the damage he had inflicted registered in its complex systems. The endless pounding of its weapons faltered.
The apprentice touched the ground and stopped dead. With a groan of tortured metal, the AT-ST managed a half step then dropped nose-forward into the ground. Dust rose up from the blasted soil. Before it could settle, the apprentice was moving again, dodging a stream of blasterfire from a stormtrooper cannon emplacement to the right of the lodge’s main steps. Two more AT-STs were closing on him from either side, hoping to hem him in.
His smile hadn’t faded an iota. The troopers’ aim left a lot to be desired. Every projectile that came within reach he deflected back at either its point of origin or the lodge’s main door, but so many of them were missing completely that the rest discharged uselessly into the dirt. He ran toward the troopers, deliberately making himself an easier target. White helmets lifted in surprise, then came down in concentration.
One lucky shot, he imagined them thinking. Just one lucky shot.
He would show that there was no such thing as luck. Not against him, anyway.
A blistering barrage of energy fire encased him. He began directing some of it back at the approaching AT-STs, leaving black scorch marks on their forward armor. Drivers and gunners intensified their charge, knowing that their approach made them better targets, too. A rain of concussion grenades fell toward him. He deflected them all toward the lodge’s door, careful to avoid anything resembling a guest quarters.
Sirens wailed. Stormtroopers screamed. The whining of engines grew louder and louder.
When the two AT-STs were within ten meters of him, forming an equilateral triangle with the stormtrooper cannon emplacement, he stopped. His lightsaber spun like a propeller, moving without his conscious thought. The Force streamed through him like a lightning bolt, fueling his instincts and filling him with strength. For a full second he closed his eyes and let his arms move in perfect synchrony with the energy bolts. He wasn’t even part of the equation anymore. He was a spectator, a privileged observer in a deadly but beautiful ballet.
He lowered his head and concentrated. The AT-STs were approaching more slowly now, their drivers and gunners sensing victory: no ordinary human could survive such a barrage for long. They were wrong a thousand times over. When the AT-STs started to accelerate again, their drivers were taken momentarily by surprise. Then they pulled back on their controls, to no avail. Their heavy metal beasts steadily picked up speed, trajectories shifting with each lurching step. Accelerating unstoppably, they converged on a different point from the one they had originally been aiming for: not the apprentice any longer, but a patch of empty ground just meters away.
The apprentice spun and opened his eyes a split second before they collided. Raising his free hand, he sent a powerful bolt of lightning into the buckling armor shells. The energy raced along wires and cables deep into the cargo bays and ammunition stores, tripping safeties and triggering detonators. Energy begat energy.
He jumped vertically upward a single instant before the first explosion and was lifted higher still by the blast of hot air that erupted in his wake. He tumbled and twisted with the Force singing through him, buoyed by the delicious sense of weightlessness and a death well avoided.
A ball of red flame spread across the ground, enveloping the cannon emplacement. White-armored bodies flew everywhere.
He reached the apex of his leap and began to descend. It was almost a shame to come down to the ground, but he knew he couldn’t fly forever. Rolling to shed a slight excess of momentum, he was up on his feet immediately, surrounded by wreckage and wreathed in smoke. A quick glance over his shoulder told him all he needed to know. Only one of the ruined AT-STs was still standing. Thick black smoke poured from its shattered viewport. The other was in pieces, blown apart by its own weaponry.
The battleground was still. His ears rang for almost half a minute before the noise faded. All was silent apart from the ticking of metal as it cooled. The Imperial resistance had crumbled. Either he had killed them all, or the survivors had fallen back to another defensive position.
“Now, what were you saying?” he asked Juno as he walked up the steps leading to the lodge’s front door. The armored plating that had once kept it secure hung from a single melted hinge, destroyed by the shots he had deflected from cannons and walkers.
“The skyhook,” Juno told him. “It’s for taking Wookiee slaves offplanet by force.”
“That’s not important now,” broke in Kota’s rough-edged voice. “Where are you?”
The apprentice described the lodge as he stepped into its ruined foyer. He kept his lightsaber at the ready, but the only beings in evidence were a trio of nervous protocol droids. “There seems to be no one about.”
“You’re very close to your objective. Don’t allow yourself to be distracted.”
“Want to tell me what I’m looking for?”
“Patience, boy. You’ll know.”
The apprentice grunted an affirmative. He strode down the main corridor, kicking open doors and using the Force to enhance his physical senses. The smell of burning food came from the kitchen. He ignored it.
“Something …,” he said, an instinct leading him toward the rear of the lodge. “Someone …”
He turned a corner and entered a long wooden corridor lined with two-dimensional ceramic artwork. Two stormtroopers and an Imperial Guard stood watch over a locked door at its end. The troopers raised their blaster rifles as he came into sight. The guard’s saber-staff was already activated.
“Hold on,” he told Kota. “I think I’m getting warm.”
The troopers started firing before he had taken two paces toward them. They were dead long before he reached the door, killed by their own reflected fire. The Imperial Guard lasted barely as long, felled with four swift lightsaber strokes then shocked with lightning as he dropped backward to the ground. The apprentice nodded, sat
isfied that his skills had improved since Nar Shaddaa.
Looking back over his shoulder, he nodded again. Not a single piece of art had been damaged.
My good deed for the day, he thought as he burned out the lock and used the Force to push the door in.
The room on the far side was luxuriously appointed, and tastefully so, considering its deceased owner. Dozens of different woods provided subtle contrasts among walls, cornices, floors, and ceilings, with a huge bay window on the far side overlooking the forest. In the distance, clearly visible against the blue sky, was the bright line of the skyhook.
Instead of the local despot, he found himself facing the back of a slender, hooded woman in white. She stood facing the view with a blue-and-white astromech droid at her side, and although she didn’t turn to see who had blown in the door he could tell that she was closely aware of his presence.
He took two steps toward her and activated his comlink so Juno and Kota could overhear.
“I should have expected that the Emperor would send an assassin,” the woman said, sounding more irritated than worried. “It’s a coward’s tactic.”
“I do not serve the Emperor.”
The woman turned and lowered her hood. Not a woman, he realized, but a teenager barely his age with brown hair hanging in looped ponytails over her shoulders. She studied him with a world-weary skepticism.
“I told Captain Sturn to spare me the charade, and now I’m telling you—”
“No, really,” he said, raising a hand to cut her off. “I’m here with Master Kota.”
“Master Kota is dead, killed above Nar Shaddaa. My father—”
She caught herself.
“Your father?” He took a step closer, putting several pieces of a puzzle together. Kota’s friend … the “very valuable” item he was supposed to extract … “How long has your father been feeding Kota information about Imperial targets?”
She looked at him warily. “How do you know—”
“Master Kota told me himself. He survived Nar Shaddaa. We were sent to find you. I think you’re supposed to come with me now.”
Her skepticism increased. “I can’t leave, not while the planet is enslaved.”
“Is that what you’re here for?”
“No.” Her answer was clipped and angry. “I’m a Senatorial observer appointed by the Emperor himself. My job is to oversee the construction of that monstrosity.” She cocked her head at the view of the skyhook towering over the forest. “He can’t kill me, but he can keep me busy and send a message to my father at the same time. A coward, as I said, but a clever one, well versed in the arts of coercion and manipulation.”
The apprentice nodded his understanding.
“I’m not so harmless myself,” the young woman said, pointing with her chin at the lightsaber. “I know what that is. If you’re truly a Jedi, then you’ll understand why I can’t leave.”
“But your father—”
“My father isn’t here.” She turned back to the window. “Once the skyhook is complete, the Empire will be able to shuttle Wookiee slaves in earnest. Entire villages will be taken offworld in a matter of days. Artoo-Detoo?”
The little astromech rolled over to the pair, stopping between its mistress and the apprentice. Chirping and whistling, it projected a standard bluish white hologram of a massive construct, circular in shape, with buttressed sides and reinforced anchors digging deep into exposed bedrock. The image rotated slowly in the air while Leia talked the apprentice through her plan.
“Artoo and I have been studying the skyhook from here. I think I know how to take it down. These are the moorings. Disable them and the skyhook will detach from the planet, causing a chain reaction that should destroy the orbital platform before it can be put to use.”
The apprentice studied the image, looking for some way of discerning the construction’s scale. He found it in the form of a tiny human figure, dwarfed by the moorings. That wasn’t very encouraging.
“Destroying it won’t stop the Empire for long,” he said. “They’ll just build another one.”
“Eventually, maybe. But you’ll give the remaining Wookiees a chance to disappear.” She folded her arms across her chest as though daring him to disagree. “Back the way you came, there’s a tube transport that leads down to the forest floor. It’ll be crawling with Imperials, clearing out the undergrowth, but it’ll take you to the base of the skyhook.”
“All right,” he said, despite serious misgivings. If he wanted to get her offworld, he would need to do as she said. “But what about you?”
“My shuttle is still on the landing platform, I presume.”
“Yes, but I won’t make any promises about the pilot.”
“What makes you think I need one?” She flashed him a smile over her shoulder, and added more gravely, “Please tell my father I’m safe.”
“I will.”
Then she was gone.
CHAPTER 20
“DID YOU GET ALL THAT?” Starkiller asked from the planet’s surface.
“We did,” Juno replied, feeling decidedly ambivalent about the new development. While glad that they had managed to achieve the objective given to them by Kota’s friend in the Senate, their continued proximity to danger made her sweat in her seat. Starkiller wasn’t likely to be coming off the ground anytime soon, and the stygium crystals weren’t going to last forever. “Are you going to do as she says?”
“I’m already doing it,” he replied.
“You and your one solution,” she muttered to Kota.
“Is everything all right up there?” Starkiller asked her.
“We’re killing time,” she said. “Where do you think the Wookiees are being taken—and why?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. They’re strong and smart. If it weren’t for their tendency to rip people’s heads off when they get angry, they’d make excellent slaves.”
“There are ways around that,” said Kota dourly.
“What do you mean?” asked Juno.
“Attachment,” he told her. “Wookiees have a keen sense of family. The bonds among them are exceedingly tight.” His lips twisted. “That’s why the Jedi didn’t have families. It was the only way to remain objective.”
“Being objective obviously wasn’t enough,” Juno said.
The general just scowled.
“Kota,” came Starkiller’s voice from the ground. “I want you to pass her message on to her father, whoever she is.”
“All right,” the general said, turning to his keyboard. “I’ll try.”
Silence fell on the comms. The pair in the Rogue Shadow waited wordlessly for some time, he tapping at the keys, wrapped in unhappy thoughts, and she wondering what was happening to Starkiller on the ground. She scanned the ship’s data banks for information on Kashyyyk’s forests and wasn’t remotely reassured. If he wasn’t being shot at by Imperials converging on the scene of his earlier disturbance, he was most likely being eaten by blastails or smashed to a pulp by terrible minstyngar.
After a prolonged period of typing, punctuated by irritated snorts and worried grumbles, Kota pushed aside the keyboard and erupted from his chair. With an explosive “Gah!” he stumbled out of the bridge, patting the walls to find his way.
“Something wrong?” she called after him.
He didn’t reply. With a hiss, the door to the meditation room opened.
She shrugged and let him be. If he didn’t want to talk, she couldn’t force him.
Moving on from Kashyyyk’s many perils, she turned to researching skyhook design instead. That left her distracted but hardly reassured.
With a slight crackle, Starkiller’s voice came over the comlink. “General Kota?”
“He’s not here right now,” she said.
“Get him,” he said. “I … I think I’ve found something.”
There was an edge to his voice, something new and strange. She didn’t hesitate.
“Kota!” she called over her shoulder. “Kota,
get out here!”
The general appeared in an instant. With no wall tapping or hesitation, he burst out of the meditation room and fairly ran into the cockpit. “What is it?”
She pointed at the comlink. He patched in, and Starkiller repeated what he had said before.
“What have you found, exactly?” the general asked him, a concerned look spreading across his face.
“Just an old hut,” Starkiller said. “A ruin, really. But it feels familiar.” Juno could hear the strain in his voice. “I’ve been sensing something strange ever since I arrived on Kashyyyk. There’s a great darkness in the forest. And—yes, sadness. Something happened here.”
Kota spoke with urgent emphasis. “Turn away, boy. Get on with your mission. There are some things you aren’t ready to face.”
“Why?” Starkiller asked. “What’s inside?”
“How should I know? My link to the Force has been cut.” Kota sank into the copilot’s seat, his expression hard. “If you go inside, you’ll face whatever’s in there alone.”
Starkiller offered no response to that. Juno perched on the edge of her seat, waiting for him to say something, anything. Through the hiss of the open comm channel, she thought she could hear him breathing.
“What’s he doing?” she asked Kota.
He silenced her with a gesture.
The minutes dragged by, and slowly Juno convinced herself that Starkiller hadn’t gone into the hut at all. Despite the fearful yearning she’d heard in his voice, he had heeded Kota’s advice and walked on by, and was even now nearing the base of the skyhook. Soon he would call in for advice and her nebulous fears would be dispelled. She would laugh and feel foolish, and everything would be back to normal.
Then Kota stiffened beside her, as though touched by something cold and clammy on the back of the neck. A muscle in his right cheek twitched. He gasped aloud and reached for the control console for support.
He sagged.
“I told you to leave it alone, boy,” he said with a sigh.
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