Star Wars_ Recovery Part 3

Because of the difficulty his compound eyes had making out dis tinct shapes, he was wearing a small optical scanner that read the display data and fed it into an earpiece in auditory form "Every rookie smuggler in the galaxy know you can't outrun a s.h.i.+p in orbit. They'll cut you off every time."

"You doi't say?" Han tried to look surprised "Because of the gravity drag?"

"And air friction and acc.u.mulated velocity and things like that." The Arcona glanced ower his shoulder at Leia. "This is Han Solo, isn't it? The Han Solo?"

Han glanced over his shoulder and saw Leia shrug.

"You know, I've been wondering myself." Her eyes drooped and Han thought she might be falling asleep, then she added, "But when I checked, that's what his identichip read."

"One of them, anyway," Han said, glad to hear an echo...no matter how faint...of Leia's sharp wit.

They reached the other side of the planet. Han pulled back on the yoke, nosing, the Falcon straight up. The nacelle temperatures shot off the gauges as the ion drives struggled to maintain velocity, and the Arcona's slanted mouth Id I open.

"Y-you're at a hundred and t-t-twenty percent spec," he stammered.

"You don't say," Han replied. "Bring up the. tactical display and let's sec how things look."

The Arcona kept his scanner fixed on the temperature gauges. "One twenty-seven."

"Military alloys," Leia explained "We can go to one forty, or so Han tells me."

"Maybe more, if I wanted to push," Han bragged.

"Don't," the Arcona said. "I'm impressed enough."

The Arcona brought up the tactical display, revealing a drop-shaped swarm of blips streaming around the planet in pursuit. He plotted intercept vectors A web of flas.h.i.+ng lines appeared on-screen, all intersecting well behind the dotted outline showing the Falcon's projected position.

"I guess rookie smugglers don't know everything Han said with a smirk. "Plot a course for Commenor."

He waited a few seconds to be certain none of the Falcon's pursuers had any tricks up its own drive nacelles, then diverted power for the rear s.h.i.+elds and kept an eye out for surprises. Though he had plenty of questions for his new copilot, he stayed quiet and watched him work Han had certainly seen more gifted navigators, hut the Arcona's approach was sound, and The used redundant routines to avoid mistake.

After a few moments, he transfered the coordinates to Han's display. "Want to double-check?"

"No need," Han said. "I trust you."

"Yeah?" The high comer of the Arcona's mouth rose a littie more. "Same here."

The Arcona validated the coordinates, and Han initiated the hyperdrive. There was the usual inexplicable hesitation...Han had been trying for the last year to run down the cause*and his alarmed copilot looked over. Han raised a finger to signal patience, then the stars stretched into lines.

They spent a few moments checking systems before settling in for the ride to Commenor, then Han had time to consider his tem porary copilot. He had not missed the lightsaber hanging inside the Arcona's ragged flight tabard, nor the significance of the mind game he had played on CorSec agents. Still, while there were now enough Jedi in the galaxy that Han no longer knew them all by name, he would have heard about an Arcona Jedi...especially a salt-addicted Arcona.

"So," Han asked "Who are you?"

"Izal Waz." The Arcona turned and, smiling crookedly, extended his three-fingered hand "Thanks for taking me aboard."

"Waz? Izal Waz?" Han shook the hand-"Your name sounds familiar."

Izal's gaze flickered downward, and he released Han's hand.

"Anything's possible, but we haven't met."

"But I do know the name," Han said. "What about you, Leia?"

He turned to look and found her chin slumped against her chest Though her eyes were closed, her brow was creased and her hands were twitching, and it made Han's heart ache to see her suffer so even in her sleep.

"Looks like I better put our patient to bed." Han unbuckled his crash webbing. "^We'll talk more in a few minutes."

"Good," Izal Waz said. "l've always been curious about your years in the Corporate Sector."

That was hardly the discussion Han had in mind, but he left the pilot's chair and took Leia back to the first-aid bay. She did not stir, even when he lifted her into the bunk and connected her to the medical data banks. He knew she needed her rest, but The wished she would open her eyes just for a minute and give him a smile, some indication that she would recover...that they would. He had needed to mourn Chewbacca's death, he knew that, and maybe he had even needed to crisscross the galaxy helping Droma search for his clan. But only now was Han beginning to see how he had sur rendered to his grief., or to understand that there had been a cost.

"Get well, Princess." He kissed Leia on the brow. "Don't give up on me yet."

The monitors showed no indication that she heard.

Han buckled the last safety strap across her chest and magnoclamped the repulsor chair to the deck beside her bunk, then went aft to check on the other patient aboard the Falcon. Her gurney was clamped to the floor of the crew quarters, a pair of data ubmbillcals connecting the portable bacta tank to an auxiliary medical socket. C-3PO stood in a comer, his photoreceptors darkened and his metallic head canted slightly forward in his shutdown posture.

The covers on the three bunks were rumpled.

Han did a quick check to make certain the bacta tank was still functioning, then reached behind C-SPO's head and reset his pri mary circuit breaker.

The droid's head rose. "...can't leave her in the middle of..." The sentence trailed off as his photoreceptors blinked to life. "Captain Solo! What happened."

"Good question." Han glanced around, "I thought Izal turned you back on.."

"If you are referring, to that salt-happy Arcona whom Mistress Leia asked you to bring aboard, absolutely not!" He gestured at the portable bacta tank. "I was instructing him where to secure the gurney when... well, someone must have tripped my breaker."

"You didn't cross the medical bank data feeds?"

"Captain Solo, you know I don't relish memory wipes," C-3PO said-"And I a.s.sure you, I know the proper way to access a data feed. I wasn't even near it."

"That's what I was afraid of."

Han stepped over to a bunk and found what looked like a large black to enail on the covers. There were similar flakes on the other bunks, and, on the third, a pair of disa.s.sembled transmitters*the really small kind, such as a CorSec agent might hide on a portable bacta tank. Han placed his hand in the center of the rumpled covers. The bed was still warm.

"Go to the first-aid bay and stay with Leia." Han folded the flakes and transmitters into his hand, then started for the door.

"Don't let anyone near her."

"Of course, Captain Solo." C-3PO clanged into the ring corridor behind him. "But how am I to stop them?"

"Comm me."

Han was already crossing the main hold toward the c.o.c.kpit access tunnel. He was not at all surprised to discover that CorSec or the spy or maybe both had planted eavesdropping devices on the bacta tank...he had intended to check for them himselt...but someone had disa.s.sembled the transmitters. That in itself did not mean Izal Waz had sneaked stowaways aboard, or even if he had, that they were Peace Brigade collaborators or bounty hunters or agents hired by whoever had sent Roxi Barl. But it did raise a few questions.

Doing his best to appear nonchalant, Han stepped onto the flight deck and paused to glance at the navicomputer. According to the display, they remained on course to Commennor, so any hidden diversions the Arcona might have sneaked past Han had not yet occurred Han slipped into the pilot's chair. "Everything okay up here?"

"What could go wrong in ten minutes?" Izal continued to stare out the viewport, his color-hungry Arconan eyes mesmerized by the gray void of hypers.p.a.ce. "You seem distressed."

"Distressed?" Han checked their position, reached up, and distressed engaged hyperdrlve. Then, as the sudden dazzle of starlight disoriented Izal, he drew his blaster and swiveled around to face the Arcona. "I'm not distressed. I'm mad... Furious, even."

Izal did not even seem all that surprised He merely blinked the blindness from Ins eyes and gestured at the blaster. "That's not nec essary. I can explain."

"You'd better hope so." Han opened his other hand and laid the black flakes and disa.s.sembled transmitters on a console between their seats "When it comes to protecting my wife, I have a short temper." Izal grinned and did not look at the items "So I noticed in the isolation ward."

"You were the one in the bacta parlor?"

Izal nodded eagerly-"I helped."

When Han did not lower the blaster, a furrow appeared in Izal's brow, and he flicked Ins hand almost casually. Had Han been just any freighter captain concerned he was about to be hijacked by a rogue Jedi and his stowaway partners, the trick might haw worked. As it was, Han had fought at Luke Skywalker's side often enough to antic.i.p.ate such maneuvers, and his free hand was already clamped over the barrel, holding the weapon in his grasp.

"If it's going to come down to using it or losing it," Han warned, "I'll use it."

The blaster settled back into Han's hand.

"You're as short on gradtude as you are on temper," the Arcona complained. "Or maybe you just don't know how to trust."

"I'll trust you when I know who you are." Han set the blaster to stun, less to spare Izal than to avoid burning a hole through a crucial circuit board. "You own a lightsaber and you know a few Force tricky but so did Darth Vader. As far as I'm concerned, you still look more like a bounty hunter than a Jedi Knight."

Izal sank into the copilot's seat like he had been punched.

"It's the salt habit, isn't it?" The asked. "You think no real Jedi would let himself come to this."

"If you're looking for sympathy, you're on the wrong s.h.i.+p," Han said. The truth was he felt a certain empathy for the troubled Arcona, but now was not the time to share shortcomings. "You must know I'm no stranger to the Jedi. If you were Jedi, I'd know "You do." lzal's gaze slipped away from Han's, and his face darkened to charcoal. "There's a reason you recognized my name, I had some trouble at the academy. One bite of Kenth's nerfloaf."

"Of course," Han said, recalling the incident. A three-month supply of salt had vanished in the s.p.a.ce of a few days, and then so had the student who choked it all down. "But you were only there a few months."

Han cast a meaningful glance at Izal's belt.

Izal nodded. "Hardly long enough to build my lightsaber," he said. "Eventually...I found a Master who taught me to accept my weakness...and who helped me find my strength."

Han raised his brow.

"And rm sure you don't know her," lzal said.

"Your story is smelling more like a Gamorrean kitchen every minute," Han warned. He gestured at the flakes and disa.s.sembled transmitters. "And you still haven't explained these."

"Oh...those." Izal slanted smile might have been one of relief or anxiety.- "That's easy."

"So explain."

"First, I wasn't keeping this a secret," Izal said "I was going to tell you when things settled down."

"Quit stalling," Han ordered.

Izal swallowed hard, which was quite a sight given the Arcona's long neck. "All right." He picked up one of the black flakes. "This The proximity alarm broke into a shriek. Han glanced at his tactical display and found a wall of blips taking form behind the Falcon.

"Nice trick," Han said. He hit the reset, but the alarm resumed its screeching half a seconds later. The tactical display returned with even more blips. "Now cut it out. You're testing my patient nature."

"You think this is a Force trick?" Izla's eyes were fixed on the tactical display, and there was enough panic in his voice that Han almost believed him. "I'm not that good."

"So they're real?" Han was starting to wony. There were no transponder codes beneath the blips, and vessels without transponder codes tended to be pirates*or worse. "What are they doing here?"

"I don't know." Izal began the ion engine warm-start proce dure. "I must have missed a homing beacon."

"Or planted one," Han said-Homing beacons could not be used to track a s.h.i.+p through hypers.p.a.ce, only to locate it once it returned to reals.p.a.ce. For a flotilla to arrive so quickly, it had to have been lying somewhere outside the Corellian system, ready to depart as soon as it learned the Falcon's position. "This seems way too handy."

"Or desperate." Izal brought the ion drives on-line, "I'm not the one trying to s.n.a.t.c.h your wife."

"I'd like to believe you." Han fired a stun bolt into the Arcona's ribs. "But I just can't take the chance."

Leaving Izal to slump over side of his chair, Han holstered his blaster and hit the throttles. The amhusher's rate of closure began to slow. Some of the leaders started to fire, but Hail did not even raise the Falcon's power-hungry energy s.h.i.+elds. The s.h.i.+p's sensor array computer had identified the newcomers as a motley mix of Y-wings and old T-65 X-wings, and neither of those could fire effectively at such long range.

C-3PO's voice came over the intercom-"Captain Solo?"

"Have the stowaways got Leia?" Han asked-There was a time when his thoughts wouldn't have leapt instantly to the worst scenario, but a lot had changed in the galaxy since then... and in him.

"If they've got Leia, you tell them...?"

"Mistress Leia is well arid quite alone," C-3PO said. "Aside from me, of course."

"Keep it that way." Han activated the navicomputer and began to punch coordinates; though the course to Commenor remained the same, transit times would have to he recalculated from the new entry point. "And don't bother me unless that changes."

"Of course, Captain Solo. "A distant streak of red flashed above the c.o.c.kpit canopy as a cannon bolt reached maximum range and faded away. "But..."

"Threepio, not now!"

The starfighters, especially the X-wings, were still closing. Han plotted a course projection and saw what he had known intuitively: they would reach effective firing range only a few seconds before the Falcon entered hypers.p.a.ce.

Han slammed his palm against the yoke. "Sith spit!"

He changed the tactical display to a larger scale. Sitting dead ahead, well beyond the range of anything less sensitive than the Falcon's reconnaissance-grade sensor suite, was a fast-freight of 250 meters. Not large, but large enough to carry a tractor beam that would prevent the Falcon from jumping to hypers.p.a.ce.

Han cursed again and canceled the calculations. He brought the Falcon around hard, and the starfighters angled to cut him off. Daggers of light began to slice the darkness to his right. Han brought the energy s.h.i.+elds up, then felt a shudder as both sets of the Falcon's powerful quad laser cannons began to fire.

"Leia?" he he gasped. "Threepio?"

"We're still here, Captain Solo,." the droid replied. "In the first-aid bay as you instructed."

Han glanced over the fire-control computer to see Izal had left the quad lasers on automatic. He hadn't. "Then who's on the guns?"

"Captain Solo, that's what I was..."

A rhythmic hissig sounded from the seat behind the pilot's, and then all Han could hear was his own scream. Paying no attention as the first pirate shots blossomed against the energy s.h.i.+elds, he leapt up and reached for his blaster.

A clawed hand pushed him down. "Sit," rasped a deep voice. "This one shall replace Jedi Waz."

The claw removed itself, and Han glanced over to see a huge scaled figure in a brown Jedi robe. The newcomer lilted Izal Waz out of the copilot's seat with one hand, then tossed him to the rear of the flight deck arid slipped into his place. A thick tail flopped over the arm of the chair, and beneath the robe's cowl, Han glimpsed a reptilian face with slit-pupiled eyes and upward-jutting fangs. An adult Barabel.