Honor Among Thieves: Star Wars (Empire and Rebellion)

by James S. A. Corey

  When it was over, he pulled Scarlet and Baasen back to their feet and yelled, “Keep moving!” He could barely hear himself. There was just a high-pitched whine that seemed to be bouncing around inside his skull.

  “Keep up or you’ll get left behind, Red,” Baasen shouted at the little R3. Its stable three-legged design had kept it on its feet during the blast, but it was having difficulty pushing its way through the crowd.

  “Forget it,” Han yelled.

  Baasen followed him, a grin on his face but his skin flushed a deeper green with fear. “That last one was close, eh?” he said, trying to make the words light.

  As if in answer, another ripple of blasts echoed through the corridor, though they sounded farther off. Scarlet finally reached the side door to the hotel and burst through into the conference center’s garden space.

  All three of them looked up. Even something as massive as a Star Destroyer was too small to be seen clearly in orbit, but the ships could be spotted as the origin points of the massive laser and plasma blasts that were streaking out of the sky and pounding the planet. A barrage of fire hit the mountain next to the conference center a dozen times, blowing starship-sized chunks of rock off the mountainside and raining them down on the buildings below.

  “They appear to be upset, poor lambs,” Baasen said. Even he seemed stunned by the level of violence the Empire was raining down on them. A few mountaintop batteries fired up into the air, golden plasma fire leaving trails of black smoke behind them as they rose.

  “Through here,” Scarlet said, and tugged Han after her into a side entrance in the conference center. Baasen tagged along, still staring up at the sky with a dazed look.

  Han recognized the massive meeting room where Leia had delivered her big speech. It was crowded with fleeing conference members who’d all had the same idea he’d had to stay off the street. He hoped Leia was already off the planet.

  As they rushed through the room and down the long corridors that led to the docks, the ground shook, blast after blast falling from the sky. The air in the city stank of smoke and dust. Over the top of the defense alarm and the shriek and rumble of bombardment came new sounds: the throb of starship engines and the scream of supersonic flight.

  “Everybody’s leaving,” Han said.

  “Good,” Scarlet replied, and pulled him down a side corridor he didn’t recognize. “Underground shortcut to the docks.”

  They’d gone a few hundred meters through the new hallway when they reached a massive metal shield door, closed and locked.

  “Good shortcut,” Han said, and started looking for another path. “Were you planning for this?”

  “Just watch my back,” Scarlet replied, and pulled out her compact cutting torch.

  Baasen turned to face the corridor behind them and drew his blaster. He held Maas’s case close to his chest with the stump of his wrist. “No reason to shoot anyone,” Han said, pushing the man’s arm down. “Everyone left is just trying to get away like we are. Unless you can shoot down a Star Destroyer with that thing.”

  “Almost there,” Scarlet said over her shoulder, her face framed by the bright blue glow of the torch.

  “Might want to—” Han started, and then time seemed to skip. He found himself lying on his back in the corridor, grit and small bits of stone covering him. The hallway was filled with a cloud of dust that stung his eyes when he opened them. He coughed uncontrollably for a few seconds, though he could barely hear himself over the renewed ringing in his ears.

  “They’re getting closer,” Baasen yelled at him, sounding like a very small voice a long way off. The Mirialan was climbing to his feet, brushing off the rubble that covered him. Scarlet was on her knees by the door, patting the floor to find her cutting torch.

  “Almost there,” she repeated, her voice shaky but loud. She picked up the torch and resumed her work.

  Something shadowy moved toward them in the dusty corridor. Han reached for his blaster and came up empty. There was nothing in his holster. He frantically searched the floor for his weapon. By the time he found it, Baasen was saying, “Well, I’ll be damned. Red made it.”

  The little R3 rolled to a stop a few feet away and trilled out a series of notes at them.

  “Great,” Han said. “Now everything’s just fine.”

  “These things are handy,” Baasen said reproachfully. Then to the droid he said, “Help get this door open.”

  The droid rolled up next to Scarlet, and soon there were two bright blue points of light cutting through the locks.

  “See?”

  “I stand corrected,” Han said.

  A few moments later the door pinged with a metallic snapping sound. Han and Baasen grabbed it and pulled it open. On the other side was a long access corridor for the conference center’s infrastructure. Conduits of heavy cabling, ducting, environmental systems, and piping covered the walls.

  Another barrage shook the hallway, raining down dust from above. A pipe buckled in the corridor ahead, and steam began pouring into the space.

  “Time to go,” Scarlet said, and trotted off down the hallway.

  Han followed, still wondering where Leia was. Surely she’d been in one of the first ships out. They’d given her enough warning. If something had gone wrong, if she was somewhere in bombardment . . . Han tried to imagine explaining to the Rebel Alliance that he’d left her behind, that she’d died on Kiamurr. Or worse, explaining it to Luke. Or facing himself in the morning, knowing he could have tried but hadn’t. He suppressed a shudder and kept running.

  “Scarlet!” he shouted. “Leia’s already gone, right? She’s left the planet.”

  “I hope not,” Scarlet called back over her shoulder.

  “What do you mean you hope not? Why do you hope not?”

  Scarlet ran and he followed. The service corridor ended at a long flight of steps up, and a door out onto the flight tarmac. Outside they could see the steady stream of ships launching from the docks, desperately trying to get off the doomed planet. As they emerged from the stairwell, a heavy transport lifted slowly off the field, just starting to get some speed. A turbolaser blast nearly cut the ponderous ship in half. It twisted sideways, trailing black smoke from the mortal wound in its side, its engines rising in a dying scream as the ship crashed back down and exploded into a rain of shrapnel.

  “Gods be with us,” Baasen said, face paling almost to yellow as he watched the ship die.

  Han took off at a dead run toward the Millennium Falcon’s dock. Scarlet kept close beside him, huffing and puffing. Baasen coughed and lumbered, staring up at the sky, gape-mouthed at the destruction falling from on high, the R3 droid trailing along and burbling to itself in distress.

  Han reached the door to the dock and slammed through it. The Falcon sat in her berth, untouched by the incoming fire. Han thought again of mystical energy fields and said a quiet thank-you to whoever or whatever might be looking out for them.

  At the bottom of the crew ramp, Leia was strapping a belt around her waist, a heavy blaster hanging on her hip. She’d changed out of her diplomatic gown into brown pants and a white shirt.

  “Oh, good,” she said. “Now I don’t have to go looking for you.”

  “Looking for us?” Han said. “Listen here, Princess. I got the data, escaped the attack, and got Scarlet back to the ship just fine.”

  “Awww,” Scarlet said, “you’re my hero. We should leave now.”

  Another blast rocked the building, and the metal girders of the dock creaked with the shock.

  “Yeah,” Han said. “That’s a really good idea.”

  Scarlet ran up the ramp, with Baasen and his droid close behind. When they were gone, Leia put her hand on Han’s arm and said, “Thank you.”

  Han looked for the mockery in it, and didn’t find any. “You’re welcome. Now let’s all get off this planet while there still is one.”

  He ran inside the ship, straight into a Wookiee hug. Chewbacca growled at him reproachfully.

&nbs
p; “Missed you, too, buddy. Let’s get her off the ground.”

  Chewbacca already had the ship warmed up and ready. It was a matter of seconds before they were strapped in and climbing through the burning air.

  “Put all power to the forward deflectors until we get out of the atmosphere,” Han said. “Then angle the rear deflectors until we make the jump.”

  Chewbacca howled at him.

  “Why don’t we have rear deflectors? I told you to fix that!”

  The Wookiee growled back.

  “Yes, I know there was time pressure. But you have to—”

  Chewbacca barked at him once.

  “Okay, okay, buddy. I hear you. Except now we have to fly through an Imperial blockade while somehow not getting shot in the backside.”

  Leia, sitting in the chair behind him, leaned forward and said, “What? No rear deflectors? You really should have fixed that.”

  “See?” Han said to Chewbacca. The Wookiee remained obstinately silent.

  “What can we do to help?” Baasen asked. He and Sunnim were holding on to the hatchway into the cockpit.

  “Well,” Han said, angling the Falcon’s flight path up through a gap in the bombardment, “I can keep us away from the heavies, mostly. They’re more interested in blowing Kiamurr into dust. But once we get out of the atmosphere, TIE fighters are going to be swarming all the ships that’re leaving.”

  “Sounds right,” Baasen said. “Nice to have lots of company for that. One ship of many, so to speak.”

  “Right. So I just need you guys to keep the TIEs off us long enough to make the jump. Keep them from getting a clean shot on our hindquarters.”

  “The Falcon’s got those turrets,” Baasen said.

  “Right again. You boys know how to use them?”

  “Believe we can work it out,” Baasen said with a grin.

  “Great, then get in there. The plan is—”

  “Kill everything?” Sunnim said.

  “Got it in one.”

  Twenty-Two

  Energy bolts streaked across the stars. Han felt the ship resisting under his control, rising and falling as the shields bled energy into thrust. The freighters, fighters, and tugs boiling up from the planetary surface mixed with the Imperial fighters, swirling and dancing like snowflakes in a blizzard. The tactical computer flickered and stuttered, unable to keep track of all the different points of motion.

  “We’ve got a wave at your two,” Leia warned.

  Han looked over. Four TIE fighters in tight formation spun down from the nearest of the Destroyers, dogging an ancient cruiser as it struggled up from Kiamurr’s burning exosphere. Han angled the Falcon to keep them in front of him, protecting the unshielded rear of the ship.

  “Baasen?”

  “Solo!”

  “Let’s see if we can help that cruiser out.”

  “How long until we’re clear for jump?” Scarlet shouted from the lounge.

  “We’re not clear to turn around out here,” Han shouted back. “We’ll try getting to the other side where we can find some space.” Us and everyone else trying to get off that poor rock.

  The Falcon screamed and shuddered. Chewbacca howled in protest and rage.

  “What did he say?” Baasen called from the turret.

  “He said shoot them before they shoot us!” Han shouted back.

  “Thank him for the pointer.”

  The Bothan’s despairing wail came from the lower turret.

  “Could someone see what’s wrong with Sunnim?” Han snapped.

  “I’m on it,” Scarlet said, heading out.

  The blasts from the Falcon reached the attacking TIE fighters, and two of them peeled off, screaming toward Han like predators falling upon prey. He pulled the ship down, whipping it to spin around them as they passed, keeping his forward shields toward them. A stream of blasterfire poured from the turrets, brushing against one of the TIE’s solar arrays and turning the little ship into a ball of ions and fire. Far above, the triangular body of a Star Destroyer loomed. Wide, glowing bolts fell from the Destroyer’s belly toward the planet, shearing away mountains and vaporizing seas.

  “He’s coming around, Han,” Leia said. “Han? He’s coming around. Han!”

  Almost too late, he saw which of the dozens of ships before him she was talking about, and he yanked the controls to compensate. The Falcon groaned under the strain. The lower turret spat out fire, and the attacker died.

  “All right, everyone hold on,” Han called over his shoulder. “I’m getting us out of here.”

  He took the tactical computer down. It was too swamped to be useful anyway. With the engines at full, he angled the ship up, through the wide swirl of enemies, his sights on the stars beyond them.

  “Han, old friend?” Baasen called, his voice tight and nervous. “What is it you’re planning here?”

  “Just keep shooting,” Han said through clenched teeth. The Falcon rose through the barrage of energy bolts and debris. The Imperial Destroyer grew larger, swelling until it almost filled the screen. Chewbacca groaned.

  “I know,” Han said. “But they’ve got more weapons on the fighters, and they won’t shoot at us if missing means damaging their own.”

  I hope, he didn’t add.

  The defensive batteries on the Star Destroyer opened up, and Han twirled the ship, dancing between the blasts. It wasn’t even thought now. The Falcon was an extension of his body, and he moved through space as if he were running through a battlefield. Chewbacca barked once.

  “Get ready,” Han said.

  Another thousand kilometers. At their speeds, it wouldn’t take long. A tight grouping of Y-wings shot past him, neither Imperial nor rebel. Just some poor guys who’d been attending the wrong conference. They drew some of the Star Destroyer’s fire. He gritted his teeth. And then they were past, the battle behind them, where a stray shot could sail through the missing deflectors and melt the hull to nothing.

  He slammed his palm on the control panel, and the stars became streaks. The death throes of Kiamurr vanished behind them, and he sank back in his chair. Scarlet, Baasen, and his Bothan pilot were howling with delight. As if getting away was a victory. As if they’d won something.

  And still, they had gotten away.

  When he looked over his shoulder, Leia was staring out the screen. The light of hyperspace glowed on her skin. The darkness in her eyes was only partly from their color. There was something more in them, too. Something deeper.

  “That was why you didn’t just tell them all,” Han said. “You knew Hunter Maas was coming, and that the Empire would come after him. If you’d warned them all before he showed up, everyone would have left before the battle started.”

  She turned to look at him directly. He saw that the words had stung her, and that she was trying not to let it show.

  “I did what I could. Told who I could. If I’d sounded the general alarm, Hunter Maas would have run, too, and the Empire would have had another chance to catch him. We would have lost everything. No one’s responsible for those deaths but the people who pulled the triggers,” she said, her voice hard. And then she softened, looked down. “It’s a war, Han. And I’m the one trying to end it.”

  “No, they’re trying to end it, too,” Han said. “You’re just arguing over the terms.”

  Chewbacca chuffed to himself and moved as unobtrusively out of the cockpit as a mountain of muscle and fur could manage. Leia’s gaze didn’t leave Han.

  “Are you saying I should have cleared the way so that they could have captured Maas and kept the data out of our hands? Because I can’t see how that would have ended well.”

  “I’m not saying that. In the grand scheme of the war, you did what you had to do,” Han said.

  “But?”

  “Grand schemes can excuse a lot of bodies.”

  “That’s not fair—”

  “What are you two on about then?” Baasen asked, poking his head in the cockpit. “It’s time to celebrate! We’ve live
d to see another day. You can’t complain about that.”

  Han got up, pushing past Baasen. There were too many people on the Falcon. Baasen, Scarlet Hark, Sunnim, the R3 droid, Leia, Chewbacca. Him. It made the ship feel close and tight, and he didn’t like it. In the lounge, Scarlet was looking at a long gash on Sunnim’s right arm. The Bothan blinked as Han brushed past them. He heard Leia and Baasen Ray behind him. He ignored them all.

  Leia was right, and he hated it. The Empire had already shown it was willing to destroy planets filled with innocent people in order to prove a point. As he passed through the ship, he found himself going back through every time he’d gotten out of trouble by making the jump to lightspeed. All the fights he’d avoided, all the times he could have died and didn’t. If Scarlet’s information was correct and the Empire got hold of this artifact, that would stop not just for him, but for everyone. All the ships boiling up off Kiamurr or Haaridin or Tatooine would have no place to go, and the Empire could pour in wave after wave of fighters until whoever the Emperor had decided was his enemy that week was nothing but fused carbon and a few volatile chemicals.

  The plastoid case was in Baasen’s quarters. Han scooped it up. It wasn’t huge. It was hardly a weight in his hand. He carried it back to the lounge and put it down on the dejarik table. The others were all around. Leia and Scarlet stood at the door to the cockpit, Chewbacca in the background between them. Sunnim and Baasen sat on the couches. Baasen’s smile could have meant anything.

  “We did our part,” Han said, thumbing the case’s latch. “Let’s see if it was worth it.”

  The case clicked and slid open. The smell of sugar and lemon filled the air. Han leaned close. The cake was a dusting of bright yellow crumbs and gobs of frosting on a small presentation plate of tempered glass.

  “Baasen?” Han said carefully. “What is this?”

  Leia stepped up beside him, looking down. She made a small sound in the back of her throat. “Maas must have been going to meet with Eanis Malavoy. He’s a buyer for Bonadan Heavy Industries.”