by Alex Wheeler
"My master, too," a Glymphid put in, raising a mug of lum with the suction cup at the end of one of his spindly fingers. "All these Muuns, they hate each other. But one thing unites them—they hate Kenuun more."
"And why not?" Haari Ikreme said. "A colder, crueler being you'll never meet." He sputtered with his strange laughter again. "Unless you're a krayt dragon, that is."
"And why's that?" Elad asked.
"Haven't you heard?" Haari Ikreme asked in surprise. "Everyone knows that Kenuun loves nothing in this galaxy except his baby krayt dragon. The whole planet's laughing about it behind his back. Of course, the last one foolish enough to laugh in front of him learned his lesson."
"Kenuun punished him?" Han asked.
"Killed him," the Glymphid said.
"And his family," Haari Ikreme added. "Not that anyone could prove it. No, Kenuun's smart. Just not smart enough to find himself a pilot who could actually win the race."
"You should see what he's got racing for him," the Nuknog said, chortling. "We're taking bets on how quickly the human dies. Low bid's fifty, if you want in."
Chewbacca growled. Han put a hand on his shoulder. Weapons weren't allowed inside the tent, so they'd left their blasters back at the campsite. "Easy, buddy," he murmured.
"I saw him out there this afternoon," the Glymphid jeered. "Kenuun's making a joke out of this whole race. We'll be lucky if the human doesn't take us all down with him when he goes."
Haari Ikreme leaned toward Han. "I'll be lucky if the human dies within the first ten kilometers," he whispered. "I've got two thousand riding on it. Cross your fingers for me."
Now it was Chewbacca who warned Han to take it easy. But Han was beyond listening to warnings. "That's our friend you're talking about, buddy," Han said through gritted teeth. "And he's going to make it through that race and leave you all eating dust."
Haari Ikreme and his friends burst into laughter. "You're a funny one, Grunta-killer," he gasped. "I like you!"
"No blasters," murmured Elad, as a reminder.
Han ignored him. "Oh yeah? See how you like this." And punched the Phlog in his squinched up, bulbous face.
The Glymphid was on top of him in seconds, grinding a small but powerful fist into Han's stomach. Elad leaped into the fray. He pulled the Glymphid off of Han and tossed him into the air.
"This your idea of relaxing?" Elad shouted, as he fended off a blow from the dazed Phlog, then pivoted around to kick a lunging Nuknog in the stomach.
"Haven't felt this relaxed in days!" Han shouted back, ducking just in time for two charging Sneevels to miss him and crash into each other. Soon every alien in the tent had entered the brawl. Kicks and punches flew wildly, bodies rolled through the dust.
Chewbacca had a Xexto and a Nuknog trapped in his mighty grasp. He roared as a Rodian broke a chair over his head. Han grabbed the Rodian by the shoulders and slammed him into the ground, leaping over his body just in time to avoid an Exodeenian's siX-armed punch.
Suddenly Haari Ikreme emerged from the chaos. He was holding a blaster pistol, aimed straight at Han. "Perhaps Grunta was a better friend to me than I knew," the Phlog said. "Perhaps he needs to be avenged."
"Easy, fella," Han said, stalling. "Aren't you forgetting something? What happens when my friends decide to avenge me?"
The Phlog cocked his weapon. "Something tells me pulling this trigger will make me more new friends than I can count. In fact, I—"
He broke off, as a Glymphid sailed past them, slamming into the main strut holding up the tent. The strut snapped in two, toppling over and bringing the tent down on top of them with a soft sigh. Han took advantage of the distraction, knocking the blaster out of Haari Ikreme's hand. Before the Phlog could retaliate, he pushed his way through the fallen canvas, trying to find his way to the outside.
The brawl ended as the other fighters did the same, swiftly wriggling out from under the sunken tent. Han found Elad and Chewbacca, both bruised but intact.
"What do you say we get out of here," Han suggested, scanning the crowd for an angry Haari Ikreme. When it came to flash brawls like this, grudges were usually forgotten by morning.
But that was still a few hours away.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Podraces on Tatooine always drew crowds. Hundreds, even thousands of spectators, eager to watch the racers speed through the course. Even more eager to watch them crash and burn.
But here, there were no crowds.
Only the wealthiest, most elite gamblers of Muun society were given access to the secret race's location. Fewer than twenty Muuns had assembled in the deserted wilderness. Rather than exposing themselves to the day's blistering sunlight, they hovered in climate controlled transparisteel bubbles. Podrace cam droids would follow the racers through the course, beaming the images back to the Muuns' viewscreens. Wrecking crews stood by in case of a crash. There were no medical technicians. That was an expense the Muuns were unprepared to pay.
Especially since Podrace crashes rarely left survivors.
The starting point was located well outside of Pilaan, on a wide, dusty plain. In the distance loomed a rocky cliffside, split by a deep, narrow crevice. According to the map, navigating this would be the first hurdle of the race.
Not a problem, Luke told himself, waiting at the starting line. I've got it under control. His friends stood in a tight clump around him, all looking like they were attending a funeral. The other Podracers and their crews clustered a few feet away, staring at Luke. Han kept shooting nervous glances at a burly Phlog, but the others focused all their attention on Luke.
"Luke, I can't let you do this," Leia said in a worried voice. "What if something goes wrong again?"
But R2-D2 had checked and rechecked every inch of the Podracer. It was in full working order. If there was a failure, it wouldn't be a mechanical one.
"Nothing will go wrong," Luke said, sounding more certain than he felt. "I can win this."
"You could die," Leia reminded him.
Han glared at her. "Great pep talk, Your Worship."
"He doesn't need a pep talk," Leia said angrily. "He needs to hear the truth. And the truth is that he can't do this. No human can."
"It's true that statistically, Master Luke has very little chance of surviving this course," C-3PO put in, "but in fact a full search of the galactic Podracing records has revealed a historical precedent for—"
"I don't care if no human has ever done it before," Luke interrupted. "I can."
"So that's what this is about?" Leia asked hotly. "You're trying to prove something?"
"I'm trying to help the Alliance," Luke reminded her. "And if I die today, at least I'll die trying to do what's right. Some things are more important than my life, Leia. Bigger. You taught me that."
"Don't throw my words back at me, to defend a stupid idea like this," Leia shouted.
"Then I won't say anything else," Luke said quietly. "You know how I feel."
Leia narrowed her eyes. "Fine. I can't stop you. But I don't have to stick around here and watch you die."
She stormed away before Luke could respond.
"Where are you going?" Han called after her. "Come back!"
Luke shook his head. "Let her go," he said quietly. "She's right. It's better if she's not here for this."
"Hey, kid, you know you're going to be okay, right?" Han asked.
Chewbacca growled in agreement.
"We believe in you," Elad added. "Leia does, too."
"I know," Luke said. "And that's all I need."
But as his friends wished him good luck and joined the other crews, Luke knew that was a lie. He climbed into the Podracer as it was towed into position at the starting line. He was alone in this. It didn't matter whether his friends believed in him.
He had to believe in himself.
Luke eyed the other racers. To his immediate right was a Glymphid, his suction-tipped fingers piloting a red brute of a Podracer. The alien shot him a cocky grin. On his other side, a
knobby-headed Nuknog glowered behind the controls of his Bin Gassi Quadrijet.
Luke shifted in his seat, trying to find the best position. His too-long limbs jutted out at all angles, and he was folded into the cramped cockpit built for a much smaller being. But before Luke could get comfortable, the starting lights glowed. Red…Orange…Green!
Wind and gravel bit into Luke's face as he surged forward. The Podracer was like a wild animal, bucking and heaving beneath him. The world swept past in smears of blue and gray. A constant thunder of air rumbled in his ears, and the billowing dust clouds blown up by the stream of Podracers nearly blinded him. He tipped left, then pulled to the right, but overcorrected. The Podracer listed to the side, nearly overturning. Luke pulled up hard, just barely holding his balance. Three of the other racers had all whizzed past, disappearing into the dark crevice in the cliffside.
The fourth, a quad-engined Balta-Trabaat BT310 flown by a Xexto, went in at the wrong angle, and smacked its lower left engine into the side of the cliff. It exploded. Flames rippled up the cables connecting the engine to the cockpit, and a moment later, the Xexto and his Podracer burst into a ball of fire.
Luke flew erratically, struggling to gain control. He tried to catch his breath, but choked on the acrid smoke streaming from the Xexto's wreckage. The Podracer was fighting him, shuddering at his touch. The cliff drew closer, a vertical sheet of rock. His body went rigid with fear. The entrance was only a few feet wider than the Podracer. If Luke miscalculated his approach, or if the Podracer spun out of control, his race would be over nearly before it began. Along with his life.
No, he thought furiously, relaxing his grip on the controls. Don't think about that.
Don't think about anything.
Luke took a deep breath. The Force was out there, he reminded himself. Surrounding him. Supporting him. It filled him, as it filled his ship. He wasn't strong enough, wasn't fast enough, to gain control over the Podracer.
But maybe he could be wise enough to release it.
Luke let his instincts take over. He stopped worrying about what might happen, or about what he had to do. He let the ship guide him. Exhilaration rushed through him, a sheer joy in speed.
The cliff towered over him.
Luke aimed the ship at the narrow opening of the crevice.
He accelerated, pushing the Podracer as fast as it could go.
And flew straight into the heart of the cliff.
The sunlight disappeared, consumed by darkness as he navigated the narrow, twisting tunnel that wound through the rock. Luke could almost anticipate the turns before they appeared. A sharp right, then two zig-zagging lefts, a hairpin curve around a jagged outcropping.
He'd memorized the map of the course but knew that wasn't it.
It was as if he could feel the shape of the course, the direction that the Podracer wanted to fly. As if they were alive, and a part of him. He pushed the Podracer even faster, twisting and turning on instinct. A bulky Manta RamAir Podracer, piloted by the cocky Glymphid, appeared ahead of him. Luke shadowed him on the next turn, hugging the inside track. Sparks flew as his engines scraped against the wall of rock—but as they emerged on the straightaway, Luke pulled ahead. As the tunnel released them into open air, Luke passed two of the other racers, shooting ahead toward the next leg of the race.
He turned his face to the wind, jolted by the exhilaration of making it through. Back on Tatooine, he'd raced his T-16 through Beggar's Canyon, secretly imagining it was still part of the famous Mos Espa Podrace circuit. But no amount of imagining could have prepared him for the thrill and terror of an actual race. The deafening rumble of engines. The shuddering vibration of the cockpit, seeping into his bones. The gritty taste of dirt and exhaust fumes in his mouth, as he closed in on the leader, the Bin Gassi Quadrijet. The blur of color and light as the world streaked past.
Unlike the Podraces Luke had seen, this race had only one lap—which meant if he fell behind again, he'd have almost no chance of catching up. According to the map, he would soon reach Aliuun Gorge, a narrow, twisting ravine that tunneled through the earth. It would dead end at the base of a steep plateau, requiring a quick pull up and a near ninety degree climb. From there, he would face a labyrinthine network of underground caves and tunnels that fed into a spiraling vertical passage. If he made it through, it would eventually eject him onto the wide plains for the final straightaway.
The narrow path through the cliff wall had been, by far, the easiest obstacle he would encounter. Luke squeezed the controls, increasing his thrust. His grip nearly slipped as the Podracer shot forward, bouncing roughly on the Bin Gassi's wake. He felt no fear, only the urge to push harder, to go faster.
A cool certainty flowed through him. He was going to survive.
More than that: He was going to win.
"Unbelievable!" Haari Ikreme Beeerd lowered his electrobinoculars and turned to Han, whom he had apparently decided to forgive in the spirit of the race. "Your human's actually pulling ahead." He shook his lumpy head in confusion. "I never thought he'd make it past the gorge, much less the corkscrew. I've never seen anything like it."
"I have," a grizzled Rodian said. "Though not since that kid back on Tatooine. You're all too young to remember—but I'll never forget. That was something."
"This is something," Haari Ikreme countered. He pulled out a stack of credits, muttering to himself. "I wonder if it's too late to change my bet."
The assassin calling himself Tobin Elad peered at the viewscreen, but he was listening intently to the chatter around him. He had assumed his target would be an alien. The piloting skills required to destroy the Death Star were considered beyond human capabilities. Everyone knew that to be true.
But now here was another truth: Luke Skywalker had capabilities like no other human.
"Here they come!" the Rodian shouted, pointing into the distance. Four Podracers appeared on the horizon, screaming toward the finish line.
"He's actually doing it!" Han exclaimed, pounding X-7 on the back.
Luke was pulling up fast on the inside, edging around the Bin Gassi Podracer that had fallen behind after an early lead. The Nuknog at the controls swung a hard left, trying to bump Luke out of the way. Luke weathered the attempt, nudging past the Bin Gassi. The alien veered toward Luke again, too hard, and flung himself into a wild spin. Careening out of control, he nearly crashed into the Vokoff-Strood and the Radon-Ulzer battling it out for the lead. As they struggled to avoid the spiraling Bin Gassi, Luke surged ahead, steering effortlessly around the Nuknog. The cam droids clocked his speed at nearly 850 kilometers per hour.
"He's in the lead!" Han shouted. "I knew the kid had it in him!"
X-7 cloaked his face in a hearty grin.
Is it you? he wondered, watching as Luke's Podracer crossed the finish line, two full seconds ahead of his nearest competitor. Are you the one I seek?
If so, Luke's extraordinary piloting skills wouldn't be enough to save him.
You escaped death today, X-7 thought coldly. But if you're the pilot I'm looking for, you'll never escape me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Kenuun's home was nothing like Mak Luunim's. Luunim's apartment had been all gold and silver, loud ostentation that screamed of wealth. Kenuun's apartment, while just as large, was nearly empty. It contained only a few pieces of sleek black furniture, nearly invisible against the black walls. Floor to ceiling transparisteel windows looked down on the Pilaan skyline, and Han realized they must be in one of the tallest buildings in the city. There was wealth here, too, but it was a quiet, careful wealth.
In Han's experience, that was the most powerful kind—and the most dangerous.
"I don't like this," he murmured to Luke and Elad. "We should have insisted on getting the disk at the race. Coming back here feels too risky."
Chewbacca was back at the Millennium Falcon with the droids, readying it for take off. As soon as they had the disk in hand, they would be ready to track down Leia and leave this planet
behind. It would be a simple, straightforward exchange. If Kenuun followed through with his side of the bargain. Still flush with his unexpected triumph, Luke was acting like they had the mission all wrapped up. But Han's gut was telling him the day was about to become interesting.
And not in a good way.
"Okay, we're here," Han said gruffly. "Now: the datacard."
Kenuun stood on the opposite side of the room, his long arms laced behind his back. "Certainly, but first, won't you sit down? Enjoy a celebratory meal with me? I am, after all, so delighted at our success." If he felt any delight, he was hiding it well. The Muun's face was as stern and expressionless as always.
"We'll just take the datacard and go," Luke said. "As we agreed."
Kenuun nodded. "Of course, of course. Anything for the winning pilot." He tipped his head. "Although, if I could persuade you to stay on, perhaps enter another race—"
"I'll just take the datacard," Luke said.
The Muun nodded again, then pressed a console on the wall. A silk tapestry parted to reveal a silver safe. He thumbed the keypad, and the safe lid opened. Kenuun retrieved a slim datacard, holding it out to Han. "I believe this is what you've been looking for?"
Han inserted the datacard into his datapad and confirmed it. The Muun had upheld his side of the bargain after all. "Pleasure doing business with you, Nal."
"And you as well," the Muun said slowly. "Captain Solo."
Han froze. He'd never given the Muun his real identity. None of them had.
"Oh yes," Nal Kenuun said. Now he smiled. "I know who you are. All of you." He signaled with a spindly finger, and four stormtroopers emerged from hidden niches in the wall. They positioned themselves around the room, one in each corner, blasters aimed. "There's a bounty on your head, Captain Solo—and yours, too, Tobin Elad. I expect that should be enough to repay me what I'm owed. With interest."
