Star Wars: Legacy of the Force: Fury

by Aaron Allston

  Seyah nodded. “That was my first master plan to destroy Centerpoint Station. This is my second. Cup your hands.”

  Kyp slung his GAG blaster rifle and did as requested. “Out of how many?”

  “Well, I’m doing three. Plus, there are hopes that if the Alliance successfully takes charge of this facility, the remaining crew will initiate some sort of self-destruct plan installed since I left. I’m actually banking on that being the way to kill this place. Let the enemy do the work.” He placed his left boot in Kyp’s hands and stood. Kyp held him high enough that he could reach the passageway ceiling. Rapidly, with tools at his belt, he undid a ceiling panel, revealing wiring above. “At the spin thrust control chamber, I spliced in programming telling the station to count down a certain amount of time, then reverse the spin that gives the station its simulated gravity.” From another pouch, he drew a datacard and began splicing it into the wires above.

  “Which, if it did so rapidly enough, might tear the station to pieces.”

  “Very good. You’re quite bright for a Jedi.”

  “How hard would you like to be dropped?”

  “I’m just messing with you. Scientists do that. Problem is, the station’s master programming, which is half ancient stuff, half cobbled together by the best minds Corellia could force to cooperate, and half evolved out of the interfaces between them—”

  “That’s three halves.”

  “I knew you were bright. Anyway, the programming resists change. It may reject my plan, for all that I worked years setting it up. Just as I worked for years on this one.”

  “What does this one do?”

  “I’m tapping into data feeds that supply the auxiliary star map databases used by the targeting system. I’m redefining every star and planet in the galaxy—starting with the near ones, graduating out farther and farther—with the same set of coordinates.”

  “Which coordinates?”

  “Here.”

  “Right here?”

  “Technically, no. They’re being defined to the exact center of Hollowtown—the geographic center of this station. But the effect of the hyperspace beam is broad enough that, even as narrowly as I’m defining the coordinates, the station and everything for kilometers around it will be squashed down to a mass the size of a pan of ryshcate, but not as sweet.”

  “Uh-huh. And how much time does this approach give us?”

  Finished with his splicing, Seyah reaffixed the ceiling panel. “As long as it takes from now until they fire the weapon. A day…two seconds. Unless, again, the master programming rejects the data I just submitted, in which case this master plan is also ineffectual. Down.”

  Kyp dropped him. Seyah landed awkwardly but came upright, unhurt.

  “And what’s master plan number three?”

  “If we can get to the fire-control chamber, we can splice in programming that might cause Glowpoint, at the center of Hollowtown, to overload and explode.”

  “Radius of the explosion?”

  Seyah shrugged. “A few thousand kilometers? I’m guessing here.”

  Kyp nodded, his expression fatalistic. “Facts, exact numbers, reassurance…a Jedi seeks not these things.”

  “Good! Let’s get going.”

  ABOARD THE ANAKIN SOLO

  Leia pulled herself along the rectangular horizontal shaft. It was a meter wide, somewhat less than that tall, and seemingly endless ahead and behind. Bunches of cables, bound to the surface above by flexible ties, were thick enough to graze her back, particularly when they reached a cross-passage, and some of them—unshielded by accident rather than design, she was sure—carried current. Han had howled when his back had brushed against one, half a kilometer back.

  Han was behind her, Iella ahead, and Iella was moving comparatively easily, despite the fact that she was broader in most dimensions than Leia.

  “You’ve done this before, Iella.”

  Leia sensed but could not see her companion nod. “A bunch of times. Since leaving CorSec, I think I’ve spent a quarter of my life in air passages, wiring accesses, and turbolift shafts.” She stopped and twisted so Leia could see her face—dusty, with rivulets of sweat making interesting patterns through the dust, as Leia knew she herself must look. “Location check, please.”

  Leia stopped crawling and closed her eyes. Luke, back on Endor, had communicated to her the precise presence in the Force she was to look for, and she had found it soon after boarding the Anakin Solo. On that first contact, she had brushed across Jacen, too, but had subsequently managed to avoid touching him through the Force.

  She couldn’t bear to touch her own son.

  She shook the thought away. It was a distraction she didn’t need right now.

  There was Allana, the Chume’da, a bright, pure presence. The girl did not seem to have moved since Leia first detected her. Leia lifted an arm, pointing ahead, up, to the left.

  “What’s the holdup?” Han, not surprisingly, sounded impatient.

  “Just a pause while I make sure we’re on the right course, Han,” Iella said. “Thanks, Leia.” When Leia opened her eyes, Iella was consulting her datapad. “Getting a diagram update from Artoo. Overlaying the original design specs for this class of ship with the plans used by the onboard maintenance division, I’m finding several spots that are just blanks. Not officially there. One is exactly where Master Skywalker says the torture chamber was.”

  “Is one of them in the direction Leia was pointing?” Han’s voice, floating up from past Leia’s feet, suggested that he was doing his best to pretend he wasn’t irritated…and that his best wasn’t enough.

  Iella nodded.

  Han added some mock sweetness to his tone. “I’ve got a suggestion. Let’s go that way.”

  Iella gave Leia a sympathetic look. “You could have found a nice Corellian to marry. I did.”

  “I’m nice. I’m just…decisive.”

  Caedus watched on his monitor as Luke, Saba, and Ben approached the bridge doors from the corridor beyond. There were a few guards on duty, not that it mattered. They fired, the Jedi rushed, fists and lightsabers swung, the guards went down.

  This was not good. Both Masters remained intact.

  All was not lost, though. Caedus had resources still available to him. He was fresh. He had eight YVH droids.

  In the monitor view, the Jedi approached the blast doors. Ben began to drive his lightsaber point into the metal.

  Caedus made an impatient gesture. “Open.”

  The blast doors slid aside. The Jedi stood there in triangular battle array, Luke and Saba now in front, Ben behind. Caedus and his YVH droids stared back at them. The bridge officers pretended to ignore the situation; they kept their eyes on their screens, conducting the space battle that raged around Centerpoint Station.

  Caedus offered a smile that in no way reflected how he felt. “Uncle Luke. Ben. Master Sabatyne. Care for some caf?”

  The Jedi, lightsabers ready, moved in, paying close attention to the two YVH droids flanking them.

  Luke shook his head. “Care to surrender?”

  “If I did, I’d never be able to have more fun with Ben, like the last time he was here.” Caedus fired the taunt like a blaster bolt—a pair of them, one at Luke, one at Ben.

  And yet, in the Force, he felt not one flicker of anger from either of them. That was…surprising. Distressing. Time away from him appeared to have undone all the good he’d done Ben during their last session.

  Caedus sighed. “All right. Kill.”

  The combat droids snapped into motion, all eight firing simultaneously, their streams of blasterfire converging on the Jedi.

  CORELLIA, CORONET, COMMAND BUNKER

  Teppler walked into the situation room. There, over a broad triangular table, floated a holographic display of the battle being waged insystem. At the center of the display was the image of Centerpoint Station, surrounded by a large number of red Alliance ships, a shrinking number of Corellian ships.

  Admiral Delpin, st
anding at one point of the table, surrounded by advisers, caught sight of him. “Where have you been?”

  “Dealing with allies. Demands of state, you know.” He worked his way through the crowd to her side. “We have the authority to fire the station weapon and full control over all insystem resources until Koyan gets here.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I’m not sure. He said he was looking for a fast transport home…But I think he may have missed his shuttle.”

  “And reinforcements?”

  “General Phennir is sending them now.”

  He wasn’t quite through saying those words when the hologram updated. Suddenly there were many more green ship images than there had been a moment before. Teppler nodded toward the display. “Friends from Commenor.”

  The admiral heaved a sigh of relief. “If we can win this one straight up, we may not have to fire the weapon. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Agreed.”

  CENTERPOINT STATION, FIRE-CONTROL CHAMBER

  The head technician sat, restless, and listened to the intensity of the firefight outside the open chamber door. The noise grew and grew.

  It had started with the shouts of CorSec troopers retreating to this location and setting up a choke point in the corridor outside. More had joined them.

  The enemy had arrived, from somewhere off to the left. Now the two forces were exchanging fire. Blaster bolts kept flashing by outside. Sometimes there were screams. It was all very annoying.

  And the technician had a secret. Several, really. One was that his real name was Rikel, and that he despised it; his nickname, Vibro, suited him far better, especially after his eighth cup of caf of the day. Another was that he had been married, in secret, concealing the news from his family and hers because they didn’t approve. Still another was that he had been widowed in secret, his wife picked up on Coruscant on a security sweep early in the war, never to be seen again…until the day her body was positively identified.

  Hatred was his biggest secret, not the flippant disregard for pain or death with which he concealed it. Hatred for the Alliance. Hatred for the Coruscanti.

  And his newest secret was only a few minutes old. He hadn’t been able to listen in on the holocomm exchange between Sadras Koyan and Denjax Teppler, but he had been able to use security cams to follow Koyan’s rapid flight from this chamber.

  Right up to the point that the Alliance shuttle carried Koyan away.

  Had Koyan defected or just been monumentally unlucky or stupid? It didn’t matter. He was gone. Leaving Vibro in charge of the weapon.

  And he could have told Vibro anything before leaving. Anything. Like…Destroy the people who killed your wife. Go ahead, it’ll make you feel better. Vibro could almost hear the words, spoken in Koyan’s flat, none-too-intelligent tones.

  Idly, he punched up the astronomical coordinates for the world of Coruscant. Idly, he transferred them over to the targeting input of the station’s primary weapons system.

  A female technician at the next station looked over at him. “Vibro. What are you doing?”

  “Obeying orders. From the big guy. Getting things set up for him to push the big button. He’ll be back in a minute.”

  Satisfied that all proprieties were being observed, she nodded and returned her attention to her work.

  Now to activate the power source…

  From the relative cover of a doorway into a darkened office, Kyp and Seyah looked down the corridor toward the fire-control chamber.

  Closest to them, thirty meters up, were rows of GAG troopers and Alliance commandos, many of them protected by riot shields, more of them firing blaster rifles over and around the shields, concentrating fire on a distant enemy.

  The enemy: lines of CorSec troopers, and two hovering combat droids, their metal skins a bronze color. Seyah jerked a thumb toward them. “A lingering part of Thrackan Sal-Solo’s legacy. Not quite a match for the Why-Vee-Aitches, but still formidable. Or so I’m told.”

  The air began to vibrate, accompanied by a hum, rising and falling, from the direction of the distant fire-control chamber. Seyah frowned, listening.

  Kyp looked over the two forces. “This is going to be tricky. To get us there, I have to rush the CorSec troops. I’ll have to use my lightsaber. So while I’m dealing with the floating droids, the CorSec troops will be firing at me. When they see I’m a Jedi, the Alliance troops will fire at me. It’s going to take awhile to get through them all.”

  Seyah gave him a dubious look. “How long?”

  “Three minutes or so. Why?”

  “I’m not sure we have that long.”

  “Why not?”

  “That sound you hear is them powering up the primary weapon.”

  “Oh.” Kyp considered. “How good are the odds that your sabotage is going to destroy this place?”

  “Well, clearly, the rotation-for-gravity thing didn’t work. That was a programming change, which we know the main program resists. I know far more about the weapon targeting system. I am a genius. With the last master plan, I just substituted data, not programming. And although my ex-wives will argue the point, I have to be right sometime. Call it good odds.”

  “New plan.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “We abandon your third master plan and get out of here.”

  Seyah nodded. “I like it.”

  He led the way, sprinting back the way they’d come, and raised his comlink. “Seyah to Broadside. We’re headed your way. The remainder of the mission is scrubbed. Prepare for immediate liftoff.”

  chapter thirty-six

  ABOARD THE ANAKIN SOLO

  Leia finished cutting a hole in the metal surface overhead and pushed the resulting plate out of the way, giving it a little boost in the Force so that its glowing edges would not contact her skin. Cool air flowed across her.

  No alarms sounded, no blaster shots rained down on her—so far, so good. She stood, finding herself in a small workshop chamber, and leapt up to the floor, taking a look around.

  Tables, electronic parts, computer gear, one door out, no other occupants. She gave a quick look to the items on the table. Complex but rugged wiring and circuitry, hardy cylinders of durasteel, a sophisticated and high-yield battery, familiar-looking buttons and brackets—someone was building a lightsaber. It was almost done; it needed only to have a shell chosen and decorated, a gem installed.

  It had to be Jacen. Perhaps he was building a weapon for Ben, under the assumption that he would be able to return Ben to his service.

  Iella clambered to her feet beside Leia. “How far?”

  Absently, Leia pointed toward the side wall. “Just on the other side. We’re there.”

  “I’ll activate the comm frequency jammer.” Iella set her backpack down on the lightsaber assembly table and opened it.

  Han clambered out of the hole in the floor. “Before you activate that…” He pulled out his own comlink and spoke into it. “Artoo, extract.”

  Iella winced and threw a switch on the side of the box within her backpack. “That might have alerted sensors in this area.”

  Han shrugged. “We can’t leave Artoo where he is, to be picked up and wiped by the Alliance.”

  The wall Leia had gestured toward crashed inward. A YVH combat droid battered its way into the workroom, raising its arm toward Han, and fired.

  Luke and Saba flanked Ben, their lightsabers up, and caught the barrages of blaster damage being hurled their way. Caedus waited, patient. They couldn’t sustain that amount of fire for very long. Either they’d die, or they’d figure out how to put the combat droids down fast. As blaster bolts began ricocheting all over the bridge, the Anakin Solo’s officers dived for cover behind their stations. Caedus merely ignited his lightsaber, ready to fend off any ricochets coming his way.

  Curiously, Ben returned his own lightsaber to his belt. The boy gestured out in either direction. Something flew from each hand, down to the YVH droids in the officers’ pits, adhering to their chests
.

  Caedus sighed. Of course. The Jedi had plundered grenades from the droids they’d defeated.

  As the thought occurred to him, the detonators went off. The combat droids disappeared—not vaporized, but hurled into and through the bulkhead armor behind them. The shock wave hammered everything at the stern end of the bridge, shredding officers’ stations, setting men and women on fire. Screams and alarms filled the air.

  Ben repeated the move, planting a grenade on the chests of the two YVH droids flanking the Jedi. Caedus blinked. It seemed a suicide move. The explosions would consume the Jedi as well as the droids. But Luke and Saba lashed out, each kicking a different direction, and the two droids, still firing, toppled over backward into the pits where their comrades had been.

  In the moment he had before those detonators went off, Caedus acted to whittle down the enemy numbers as they had been whittling down his. He gestured, exerting himself telekinetically, and Saba Sebatyne slipped laterally into the starboard pit, almost atop the doomed droid there.

  Her leap toward safety was almost instantaneous, but almost wasn’t good enough. The detonators went off. The blast caught Sebatyne when she was only a meter or two in the air. It propelled her like an old-fashioned munition to the port-side wall, slamming her into that surface five meters above the floor, and she slid, flaming, down into the pit.

  Luke and Ben looked Caedus’s way. He smiled at them and shrugged. “One down.”

  The four droids nearest him kept firing.

  As the wall crumpled, Han leapt backward, toward the door, hoping it was automated and would open for him. Leia drew and lit her lightsaber. Iella dived for the hole in the floor.

  The exchange took place in what seemed like slow motion. Han’s shoulders did not hit the door—he staggered back into the corridor. Leia’s blade came up and deflected the first three or five thousand bolts from the droid’s right arm.

  Someone shot the droid three, four, five times in the chest—Han was surprised to see the blaster in his own hand, firing as fast as his finger could pull the trigger, his brain not figuring into the equation—and then his shoulder-blades hit the passageway wall behind him, throwing his aim off.