Star Wars_ The New Rebellion Part 25

"Lando, things have changed, " the Kid said.

"Not that much. Don't insult my intelligence just because I've been away, and I won't insult yours. I've got a legitimate problem with my s.h.i.+p or I wouldn't be on the Run. So you find me the best mechanic around here, and I'll guard the Luck myself."

"How much you willing to pay?"

"As much as it takes to do this fast," Lando said. Then he frowned at Blue. She seemed convinced, even if no one else did. "What were you saying about Solo?"

"You know he's here, Lando."

"I don't see the Falcon."

"I didn't know you were looking for it."

"How else did he get here?"

"Lando, don't play dumb."

"I'm not playing dumb," he said. "You want to check my s.h.i.+p yourself? I haven't spoken to Han in a long time. I've been trying to set up a legitimate mining operation on Kessel. " He pulled away from her and adjusted his cape. "But if Han is here, I would love to see him. Chewie knows as much about the Lady Luck as he does the Falcon. He could help me repair her, and then I won't bother anyone." Blue studied him a moment, her magnificent eyes taking in all of him. Then she smiled, slowly, seductively. "You've always been a mystery to me, Lando. I like that in a man."

"You like anything in a man," Zeen said from below. "Don't believe any of that about Han. Lando's here for him. Something's going down." Lando shook his head. "I know I'm not going to convince you, Zeen, but at least Blue believes me. Just lead me to Han and I'll leave all of you alone."

Zeen blocked the edge of the ramp, his blaster pointed at Lando's heart.

"You're not going anywhere, Calrissian. You're wanted by Nandreeson, and you haven't been to the Run in almost twenty years. That makes you an outsider. We don't like outsiders much." Lando's mouth went dry. "I don't like having a blaster pointed at me either, Zeen. You want to put that aside?"

"No can do, Calrissian."

"Put down the blaster, Zeen," Blue said. "He's my responsibility."

"Fine," Zeen said. "You stay with him on his precious s.h.i.+p, then. And we'll all wait for Solo to return. Then Calrissian can leave us in peace."

"What are you so afraid of me for, Zeen?" Lando asked.

"We don't need Nandreeson's people here," Zeen said.

"Too late." The voice that had spoken before, the one Lando hadn't been able to place, spoke again. A Rek stepped out from the crowd. His slender, whiplike body blended in with the crowd, but his orange eyes blazed like a freighter's running lights. In his rope-thin hands, he held a blaster, trained on Lando. "You're coming with us, Calrissian.

Nandreeson will be happy to see you." Another Rek stepped out from against the wall. Then another, and another, until thirty Reks surrounded the group of smugglers. "Very happy," one of the Reks said. "About two million credits' worth."

"Wow," Blue said. "If I'd known you were worth that much, I'd've turned you in myself." The sum startled Lando, too. "It was only fifty thousand last I heard."

"Come with us peacefully," the first Rek said, "and I will leave your s.h.i.+p alone."

"What good will that do me?" Lando asked. "I can't use it if I'm dead."

He reached for his own blaster, but a rubbery appendage wrapped itself around his wrist. He looked down. Another Rek had twisted its arm around his skin. Its slitted mouth opened in a Rek's version of a smile. This Rek was female; her purple eyes gave away her gender.

"I wouldn't try it, big boy," she said. "You're still worth a million credits to Nandreeson dead."

"All right," Lando said to Blue. She was his only hope now. "No more pretense. I've got to find Han. He's in big trouble."

"I'll say," the female Rek said. "He's going to meet us on Skip 6. I'm sure your reunion will be a happy one." Blue backed away, holding her hands up. "Sorry, Lando," she said. "I never get involved in Nandreeson's business."

"Some friend you are," Lando said.

"I never said I was a friend," Blue said. "Just an interested party. You never should have come here, Lando."

"Don't I know it," he said.

TWENTY-THREE.

Four new languages in the last day. 3PO sat at his computer bay in the Solos' apartments. He had had no duties since the children left, and he was using the time to catch up on the new languages. Two were from recently discovered planets, and two were new droid languages. That made eighteen new droid languages in the last week, or 2.571 languages per day.

The computer bay was near the children's quarters. 3PO sat in the chair because Jaina had once insisted he do so. Anakin had pasted stickers of heroes of the Old Republic onto the bay walls. 3PO had asked him to remove them, but Anakin had "forgotten," a word he often used when he meant that he did not want to.

A tiny icon flashed on the corner of the screen. It was a small R2 unit.

3PO pressed a key with a golden finger and the icon covered the screen.

Then he pressed another key and the icon turned into a single blinking message: EMERGENCY EMERGENCY EMERGENCY There was a small code tagged onto the y. 3PO opened the code, and binary covered the screen. The message was from R2. He was in the cargo bay with someone named Cole Fardreamer, and they were being accused of sabotage. The message was new, and it kept repeating, over and over.

3PO pressed two more keys. R2 was still on-line. 3PO started to send a message back when the screen went blank. Then nothing.

R2 was gone.

It amazed him how quickly the credits disappeared. Kueller sat at his desk on Almania. The curtains were open, revealing the lights of the city below. The towers of the Je'har were black blotches against the night skyline. Emptiness. Ruins. A sign of Kueller's tremendous power.

But wealth supported power. He would have to strip Pydyr of its treasures and sell them on the open market. His agents were already sending out discreet feelers to the greatest collectors in the galaxy. If he could sell the homes of Pydyr as a set, the gems of Pydyr as another, and the clothing of Pydyr as a third, he would have enough credits to complete Phase 3 of the operation.

Phase 1 was over, and Phase 2 was underway.

Kueller leaned back in his chair. His gloves were on the table beside the five small computer screens. His hands looked pale in the artificial light. A young man's hands. Not the hands of the most powerful man in the galaxy.

Not yet.

But soon. Very soon.

A chime rang softly on his private line. He touched the screen in response. Brakiss's face appeared. His blond hair was tousled, and his eyes looked tormented. Brakiss had faced Skywalker, then. Kueller knew the signs.

"So," Kueller said, not waiting for Brakiss to speak, "he raised questions in your tormented heart." Brakiss flinched. If Skywalker could tempt Brakiss, a man who had loved the Empire with all of his twisted heart, he could tempt anyone. Kueller had made the right choice: Destroying Skywalker and all who believed in him was the next step.

Kueller would not succeed without doing so.

"Is he your master now, Brakiss?" Kueller asked.

"No!" Brakiss actually backed away from his screen. His image was smaller-Brakiss seemed smaller.

"Then who is your master, Brakiss?"

"No one," Brakiss said. His mouth was a thin line, his eyes full of terror and sadness. "I want out this time, Kueller. I'm done." Kueller let his death mask smile, even though his own irritation was deep. "What did Skywalker do to you?"

"Nothing," Brakiss said.

"Then why this sudden loss of faith?"

"It's not sudden, Kueller. You wouldn't let me kill him."

"Even though you tried." Brakiss flinched again.

Kueller leaned forward, knowing the movement would make his death's-head mask fill Brakiss's viewscreen. "You tried and you failed, and Skywalker, out of the goodness of his Jedi heart, let you live. And now you are grateful to your old master, and you wonder how anyone could best him, and you are not certain whether anyone should best him, am I right, Brakiss?", "I hate Skywalker," Brakiss said.

Kueller shook his head. "You don't hate Skywalker. You hate the way he makes you feel. You hate yourself, Brakiss. You hate what you've become."

Brakiss raised his chin. "He says I could go back to the academy. He says I could abandon the dark side. He says Vader did."

"Of course Vader did," Kueller said, his voice calm, even though he felt like shredding Brakiss for even listening to Skywalker. "Vader was dying.

Skywalker was beside him. The Emperor was gone. Vader had nothing left.

He had no power and no hope. He took what Skywalker offered. He had no real choice."

"Skywalker says he did."

"Skywalker was trying to take you into his power. Did he succeed, Brakiss?" Brakiss crossed his arms. "You can't tell?" Kueller smiled, glad he had not used the holoprojector. He seemed bigger on the screen, more powerful, and he needed all that power at this moment. "I think Skywalker could have taken you back if he truly wanted to, but he did not. He's not interested in you. You are nothing to him. You aren't even worth killing." Brakiss flinched again. So Brakiss had left himself open, made it easy for Skywalker to kill him. And the virtuous Luke Skywalker had not.

"Skywalker wants me," Kueller said. "He knows that to maintain his power, he must defeat me."

"He doesn't even know you exist," Brakiss said. His tone had defiance in it. Just enough defiance to make him still useful.

"Oh, he knows," Kueller said. "You sent him to me, didn't you?"

"I warned him away from you." Brakiss's eyes widened even as the words left his mouth. He apparently hadn't planned on telling Kueller that.

"Good," Kueller said. "Skywalker is more apt to come to me now. You did well, Brakiss."

"Well?" Brakiss sounded stunned.

"Yes," Kueller said. "You did my work even better than I had hoped you would."

"Th-then I can stay here?" Brakiss stammered like a small child. He loved the factory. It gave him a peace that Kueller found very useful.

"Is that what you want?" Kueller asked.

Brakiss nodded, slowly, as if he was afraid to reveal himself to Kueller.

"Then of course you can stay, Brakiss. You have served me well."

"And you won't send anyone else here?" Kueller smiled. "No one else needs to come. Telti is yours, Brakiss. I will continue to subsidize it for you. And you will continue to work for me, as you always have. And we will never again discuss Skywalker, the academy, or Yavin 4. Is that what you want?"

"I want Skywalker to stay away."

"You'll always be alone there. Your Force talents will go to waste, but that will be your loss, Brakiss, not mine. Your usefulness is done. "

"And Skywalker?" Brakiss couldn't seem to let it alone. Skywalker must have made an impression. More of an impression than Kueller was comfortable with.

"Skywalker is mine now," Kueller said. "Soon he will bother no one ever again."

TWENTY-FOUR.

The Glottalphib smiled at Han. Smoke seeped between his long yellow teeth, narrowly missing the walls of the Falcon. "Well, General Solo," he said. "We meet again." Han had to struggle to recall his name. "You're outnumbered, lisner." Chewie was still growling. His fur had stopped smoking, but there were missing patches where the flame the Glottalphib had used had burned through. His paws were up, just as Davis's hands were. Seluss had scooted as close to the metal walls as he could get.

"I don't think I'm outnumbered," lisner said. "One deep burst of flame and your friends here will be of no use to you. And while I fry them, I can turn my blaster on you. Imagine, a hero of the Rebellion forgetting his blaster." Han cursed. His blaster was in the c.o.c.kpit.

"Such language, General Solo," lisner said. "And when I am here on a courtesy visit." Han kept his gaze on lisner. He had to buy time. The Falcon was his s.h.i.+p; he would be able to get them all out of this if he only had a moment to think up a plan.

"It seems I'm always explaining manners to you," Han said. "Threatening to kill my friends is not polite."

"I merely do this to protect myself," lisner said. "My boss would not understand if you refused his invitation." Chewbacca slowly unsheathed his claws. Their tips touched the low ceiling. Han kept his features impa.s.sive, so that lisner wouldn't notice Chewie.

"What does Nandreeson want with me?" lisner breathed out slightly. Licks of flame caressed the gray scales near his nostrils. "He doesn't want you, precisely. He is most interested in your position. He believes that he can help the New Republic."

"Oh, he does, does he?" lisner nodded. "He has information that your people might find of value." Chewie inserted one claw between the wall and the door to a secret cargo hatch.

"What kind of information?" Han asked.

"Now, General Solo, if I knew that, I would tell you. But I am merely an a.s.sistant, an underling with no real power. I have been instructed to bring you to Skip 6-"

"And I told you before that I'll meet Nandreeson on Skip 1." Chewie had inserted another claw. The process was painstakingly slow. Seluss had moved even closer to Chewie's legs. Davis was watching lisner's blaster intently. If Chewie didn't act quickly, Davis probably would. And then they would have a disaster.

"I must tell you the truth, General Solo." Steam came out of lisner's mouth when he said, "Solo."

"Nandreeson does not like to travel to the other Skips. The accommodations are, shall we say, lacking?"

"I'm not asking him to sleep over," Han said. "We can meet on the Falcon if he wants. I just don't plan to go to Skip 6. I learned a long time ago to stay off Nandreeson's personal turf. No offense, lisner."

"None taken. Your friend Calrissian would have done better to have shown the same restraint." Chewie had inserted two more claws into the area.