Apocalypse (31 page)

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Authors: Troy Denning

BOOK: Apocalypse
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“That is what I am saying,” Vestara confirmed. “And more. It’s common knowledge among the Jedi that Queen Mother Tenel Ka and Jacen Solo were close when they were young. There are those who believe they stayed close even after she assumed the Hapan throne.”

“Then Allana is the daughter of the Hapan queen and Jacen Solo?” Sashal started down the tunnel toward the hatch, her company following close behind. “You are certain?”

“What I am
certain
of is that the girl living with the Solos is the Jedi queen,” Vestara said. She was more than a little alarmed to see Sashal coming down the tunnel, but she was gambling for everything now—for her life and more, for complete redemption in the eyes of the Lost Tribe and a return to her people as a hero. “And the Jedi are determined to keep her identity secret. It explains everything that happened on Klatooine.”

“It’s plausible,” Sashal agreed, still thinking. “It would explain why your father failed when he tried to kill the Queen Mother. And it makes sense for the Jedi queen to be the child of a Queen Mother and a powerful Jedi Knight.”

“A powerful Jedi Knight who became the Sith Lord Caedus,” Vestara reminded Sashal. “If the Force has not been at work in this, then I have no idea what the Force is.”

“Indeed.” As Sashal spoke, the metallic hiss of a retracting iris hatch sounded behind Vestara. The High Lord stopped five paces away—far enough from her to defend or attack. Then she looked through the open hatch into whatever lay beyond … and flashed a spiteful grin. “You have done well, Saber Khai.
Very
well.”

Sashal extended her arm. Fearing the worst, Vestara snapped the lightsaber off her belt hook. But the High Lord barely seemed to notice. She was still staring over Vestara’s shoulder, sneering in open delight.

“Detonator, now!” Sashal commanded. She extended an arm behind her. “Five-second fuse!”

The Sith behind Sashal immediatly pressed an armed detonator into her hand—making certain to place the safety pin beneath the High Lord’s thumb.

Sashal’s gaze shifted to Vestara. She used the Force to turn Vestara’s hand palm-upward, then slapped the detonator into her grasp—without the safety pin secured.

“It’s your mission, Saber Khai,” the High Lord said. “You finish it.”

“Of course,” Vestara said.

She tried to secure the safety pin again—and failed. Spinning around to locate her target, she found herself looking through the open hatchway into a cramped loading bay. Nearly filling the tiny space was the distinctive teardrop hull of a famous YT-1300 light transport, the
Millennium Falcon
, with the giant green bulk of the Ramoan Jedi, Bazel Warv, just stepping off the boarding ramp onto the loading bay floor. And running down the ramp behind him was a little gray-eyed girl followed by a pet nexu.

“Lady Sashal, you are too generous,” Vestara said. Trying to conceal her astonishment, she drew her arm back to throw. “It will be a great honor to be the one who kills the Jedi queen.”

T
HE VOICE COMING OVER THE FLIGHT DECK SPEAKER WAS CLIPPED AND
condescending, with a crisp Hapan accent that made Han’s scalp crawl.

“… is no place for the Chume’da right now,” the voice was saying. “She should be on her way home.”

“Coruscant
is
her home, in case you’ve forgotten,” Han retorted. Of course, he knew that Taryn Zel would never forget anything about Allana. But when she fired up
the voice
and started in with the Hapan-aristocrat act, he got stubborn. He just couldn’t help himself—probably because he had a secret fear that Allana might act the same way someday, after she grew up and returned to live on Hapes. “She’s been living here for the last seven years—with
us
.”

“I know where she
has
been living, Captain Solo,” Taryn said. “That doesn’t mean it’s safe for her to be with you on Coruscant
now
.”

As Taryn spoke, Han was looking through the corner of the viewport, watching the loading bay’s coral-encrusted door slowly crawl
closed. He thought it had probably been a mistake not to install a faster door when he built the Jedi Temple’s secret access tunnel.

He
knew
it had been a mistake not to expand the entire bay. At the time, he had thought that a lot of visible construction would draw too much attention from the denizens of the undercity. But it had been a real trick to squeeze the
Falcon
into such a cramped space. With only four meters of clearance, he had been forced to ease the stern in backward, then spin the nose around and slip in sideways—a complicated maneuver that had drawn attention of its own. Once the Jedi got their Temple back, they were going to need a new secret tunnel—
if
they got their Temple back.

“Captain Solo?”
Taryn’s voice was full of annoyance. “I’m waiting. Are you going to explain yourself?”

“I never explain myself,” Han said. “It’s a bad habit.”

Han heard someone with a deep voice chuckling in the background—probably Zekk, who seemed to take dealing with the arrogance of Hapan women as some kind of sport.

Taryn was silent for a moment, then said, “Then would you please be kind enough to inform me what you’re doing down there?”

“I already explained all that,” Han said. “Bwua’tu was fresh out of assault cars big enough to carry Jedi Warv. We were the only ones who could deliver him to the tunnel entrance.”

“Yes, I understand that part,” Taryn said. “What I don’t understand is why you had to bring the Chume’da
with
you. Couldn’t you have left her at the Jedi headquarters?”

“Not really. But stop worrying. This place is a lot more secure than HQ. There’s way less traffic down here, and only a few dozen Jedi even
know
about it.”

“How very reassuring,” Taryn said, not sounding reassured at all. “Now please stop dodging the question. Why couldn’t you leave her with Master Sebatyne back at headquarters?”

Han paused to consider his words. It wasn’t going to be easy to convince the woman in charge of the Chume’da’s secret bodyguards that Allana was safe—not when he wasn’t absolutely sure of that himself.

Finally, he said, “Well, think about it. Leaving her behind didn’t exactly work out last time.”

Taryn’s voice grew incredulous. “You’re saying she sneaked aboard the
Falcon
 … again?”

“It was more like
stomping
aboard than sneaking,” Han said. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“And you let her get away with that?” Taryn demanded. “You and Princess Leia are the adults, Captain Solo. At least, you’re supposed to be.”

“And she’s the Chume’da,” Han retorted. To tell the truth, he was actually kind of proud of Allana’s stubbornness. It showed character. “Besides, after a while Leia said we had to go with it. Some sort of Force thing.”

Taryn’s voice grew cold. “
Some sort of Force thing
is no reason to risk the Chume’da’s life.”

“Actually, it is.” It was Zekk’s deep voice that interrupted, coming over the same channel as Taryn’s. “Whether we like it or not, the Chume’da has a destiny tied to the Force. When the Force sends her a vision, it’s not our place to question how she responds to it. All
we
can do is be on hand to protect her.”

Taryn fell silent, and Han could almost see her biting her lip as she allowed herself to see the wisdom in Zekk’s words. Like Han, Taryn was a normal person in love with a Jedi, and like Han, that meant accepting that certain things just had to be taken on faith.

After a moment, a heavy female sigh sounded over the speaker. “Very well, Captain Solo. But you
are
protecting her, are you not?”

“Of course. Stop worrying. Just stay up there and fly top cover for us.” Han activated the exterior cam to check on Allana. She was standing just outside the ship, on the boarding ramp with Bazel. Her brow was furrowed and her neck craned as she looked up at her huge friend. She was issuing instructions and tapping her index finger into the Ramoan’s giant green thigh. “She’s just giving Bazel some last-minute orders before he heads off to warn the Barabels. We’ll be on our way in no time.”

As he spoke, the loading bay’s slow-moving door
finally
crawled its way closed, then settled into its seat with a loud boom. Han glanced over his shoulder to where R2-D2 stood at the droid station.

“Okay, Artoo, tell security to open that door again
now
,” Han said. After the
Falcon
had entered the loading bay, the facility’s stubborn security
computer had insisted on closing the door—even refusing an override command to leave it open. “We’ll be ready to leave before it clears.”

R2-D2 tweeted an acknowledgment. A second later he added a notification tweedle. Han turned forward again and saw a message scrolling across his primary display.

SECURITY IS UNABLE TO COMPLY IMMEDIATELY. THERE IS AN EMERGENCY ACCESS REQUEST AT THE TUNNEL HATCH
.

“An emergency request?” Han turned toward the back of the loading bay, where the access tunnel began its run into the Jedi Temple. The iris hatch was already half dilated, revealing the torso of a young woman in light molytex armor. She seemed to be turned half away, as though looking at something behind her. “What the blazes?”

“Captain Solo?” Taryn’s voice was filled with alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“Stand by,” Han said, still watching as the hatch completed its dilation. “We’ve got company.”

“What kind of company?”

“Jedi, I think. Maybe an emergency evacuation.”

As Han spoke, the figure turned. She was an attractive female of about sixteen, with brown eyes much darker than her hair. She had a small scar at the corner of her mouth that suggested a cruel smile, and in her hand, she held a small silver orb that looked all too familiar.

“Vestara Khai?”
Han gasped.

His gaze went back to the silver orb, and his confusion vanished in a flash of understanding and rage. He activated the external speakers.

“Detonator!”
he yelled. “Everyone, get back in here—”

Before Han could add the word
now
, Vestara stepped through the open hatch. For a moment, Han thought she wasn’t going to attack after all, that he was misinterpreting what he was seeing and this was just some strange sequence of events that did not yet make sense.

Then Vestara moved aside, revealing a long line of dark-robed warriors behind her. Han activated the ship’s automatic blaster cannon and designated the hatch as the target area. Vestara used a gentle underhand pitch to toss the detonator toward the
Falcon
, then continued to hold her hand up, using the Force to guide the silver orb toward the
boarding ramp. Han glanced back at his cam display, hoping to see Leia and Bazel leaping to safety with Allana in tow.

Instead he saw Anji, springing toward the tunnel mouth, and Bazel, extending a big green arm in the detonator’s direction. The Ramoan waved his hand toward the loading bay wall, and the silver orb veered … straight toward the
Falcon
’s flight deck. Han didn’t need an astromech droid to tell him its new trajectory would carry it within a few meters of the pilot’s seat.

“Fierfek!”
Han leapt up and sprang toward the access corridor at the rear of the flight deck. “Go, Artoo! Go-go-g—”

A deafening crackle—

—erupted at the far end of the
Falcon
’s flight deck outrigger. Leia jerked her head around and saw the blinding white flash of a thermal detonator explosion. She raised a hand, half shielding her eyes, then stood staring in shock, heart breaking as the ball contracted on itself and vanished, leaving only the truncated end of an access corridor to mark the last place she had seen Han—on the flight deck of his
Millenium Falcon
.

“Grandpa?” Allana’s voice grew shrill.
“Grandpa!”

Allana turned to rush up the boarding ramp, jolting Leia out of her own shock—reminding her that even if the worst
had
happened, Allana still needed her. Leia whirled and lunged, catching the girl by a shoulder.

“Stop! Think!” Leia had to squeeze hard to keep Allana from breaking free. “We’re fighting for our lives here. What would your grandfather tell you to do?”

Allana stopped struggling, and her eyes grew strong. “Figure the game.”

“That’s right.” Leia glanced toward the back of the loading bay, where two dark-cloaked Sith were stepping through the open hatch. “Assess,
then
act. And retreating into a disabled vessel—”

“Is dumb,” Allana finished. She spun around and started back down the boarding ramp. “Barv! We’re in big—”

“Trouble,”
Bazel finished. His lightsaber was already crackling to life. “I know.”

The first blasterfire erupted from the tunnel mouth, and Bazel
started to bat energy bolts back toward the Sith. Leia hesitated a heartbeat, torn between protecting Allana and retreating to check on Han. Then she ignited her own blade and raced to defend her granddaughter.

Allana was already darting into position behind Bazel, using his pivoting bulk as a shield while she reached for the huge blaster pistol strapped to his thigh. Before Leia could yell at her to stop, the Ramoan froze, and Allana pulled the weapon from its holster.

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