Rebel Force_ Renegade Part 6

The blaster was a Merr-Sonn J-I Happy Surprise hold-out model, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand, useless at distances of more than three meters. Deadly at point-blank range. A pale, stubby finger was itching to pull the trigger. And attached to it, the hand, the arm, the shoulder, the face of a man Han hadn't seen in years. A man whose last words to Han had been, "Next time I see you, you're dead."

Han grinned.

Chewbacca roared in frustration, knowing that the wrong move could get Han killed.

"Would you shut that Wookiee up!" the man yelled, pressing the blaster to Han's forehead. A few of the other gamblers looked over, then shrugged and turned back to their gaming tables. In a place like this, you didn't pay too much attention to what anyone else was doing. Not if you wanted to walk out in one piece.

"Easy, Chewie," Han said, hoping that the Wookiee wouldn't do anything rash. "Lore isn't going to shoot me, are you, Lore?"

Chewbacca barked a question.

"Yeah, Lore and I go way way back," Han said, winking at his a.s.sailant. "Long time no see, Lore. How's it going?" back," Han said, winking at his a.s.sailant. "Long time no see, Lore. How's it going?"

"Better, now." Avik Lore-failed musician, failed gambler, failed cantina owner, successful smuggler-snarled at Han.

"Don't tell me you're still mad about that little incident back on Dubrillon," Han said wearily.

Lore's eyes widened. " Incident? Incident? You shot me!" You shot me!"

Han shrugged. "Not on purpose," he pointed out. "Besides, it was just a flesh wound. Don't be such a baby."

"I couldn't sit down for a month!"

Chewbacca let loose a hiccupy gurgle that Han knew was suppressed Wookiee laughter. Lore shot him a sharp glance. Chewbacca pounded his chest in a good imitation of a Wookiee not at all amused.

"How was I supposed to know it was you behind that door?" Han wheedled. "I though it was the G'looth Brothers!"

"You could have asked asked," Lore said. "You could have knocked. Or you could have opened the door and taken a peek before you let loose with your blaster.

You could have done a million things."

"Could have," Han said. "Didn't."

Lore sighed. "I know, I know, rule number one-"

"Always shoot first," Han finished with him. "And I always do. Best way to keep breathing."

"Not when you're the one who gets shot," Lore growled.

Han was getting tired of staring down the barrel of a blaster just because Lore was a little grouchy about some flesh wound from a hundred years ago.

Slowly, Lore's blaster tracing his every move, Han rose to his feet. "Look, friend, fun as this little reunion has been-"

"Who said you could stand up?"

"Well now, I don't know," Han mused, raising his left hand as if to scratch his chin in thought. "Who said that?" Ever so slowly, he let his fingers creep toward his forehead, toward the muzzle of the blaster, until- "Hey!" Lore shouted, as Han wrapped a hand around the muzzle. "You think I won't shoot you?"

"No..." While Lore was distracted by the tussle over his weapon, Han's right hand darted to his holster and whipped out his DL-44 heavy blaster, optimized for quickdraw capabilities. "Not if I fire first," he said, grinning, his blaster held steady, inches from Lore's face.

Lore's blaster didn't wobble.

"You think you're faster on the trigger than me?" Lore challenged.

Han grinned. "Either I can prove it to you, or you can lower your blaster, and I'll lower my blaster, and you can buy me a bottle of lum."

Lore squinted, knitting his eyebrows together like two wriggling hagworms.

" You're You're buying," he said finally. buying," he said finally.

"Done," Han said. "On three?" They counted down together.

"One... "

"Two..."

"Three!" On three, each man blasted a hole in the wall, just behind the other's head.

"Just a warning," they said, in sync, then burst into laughter.

Han slapped his old friend on the back. "Always good to see you, Lore. So how about that lum you're buying me?"

" You're You're buying," Lore said, sliding comfortably into a seat next to Chewbacca. buying," Lore said, sliding comfortably into a seat next to Chewbacca.

The Wookiee glared suspiciously and grumbled under his breath.

"Don't mind Chewie," Han said, waving over a serving droid and ordering a round of drinks and a bowl of won-wons for the Wookiee. "He doesn't like it when people try to shoot me."

"I know how he feels," Lore said ruefully, rubbing the site of his old blaster wound.

Chewbacca took a large gulp of won-wons and growled.

"Long before your time," Han replied. "Lore and I met when I saved him from an angry nexu."

"He was only angry because you blew up his cave!" Lore reminded Han, launching into the story of the carnivorous beast.

Han laughed as the memories came flooding back. It felt good to talk about old times, times before he'd met Luke or Leia, before he'd gotten all tangled up with the Rebel Alliance. Back then his only worry had been when the next job would come in, and his only cause had been himself.

"Hey, Lore, you got anything going on?" he asked suddenly, the beginnings of an idea taking shape.

"Got a routine run to Siskeen for a shipment of rock wart eggs," Lore said.

"Could do it in my sleep."

"What if I had something more...interesting?" Han asked, leaning forward and lowering his voice. Chewbacca issued a warning growl, but Han ignored him. Sure, Lore was a little rough around the edges, but that was part of his charm. "I've got a job coming up," Han confided, "a big one. And I could use a little of your brand of help."

Chewbacca growled louder.

"Lore knows this sector like the back of his hand," Han pointed out. "And I know he's not afraid to tangle with some Imperials-not if the price is right."

Lore's ears perked up. "And the price would be?"

"Twenty thousand," Han lied. "Split down the middle, seventy-thirty."

"Last I checked, the middle's a little closer to fifty," Lore said.

Han grinned. "My job-my math."

"Sixty-forty," Lore proposed. "And I might just know where you can get some Imperial docking codes. You're pulling one on the Empire, that could come in handy."

Han glanced at Chewbacca. "What do you think, buddy?"

Chewbacca made it clear he didn't think much of it-not the idea, not Avik Lore. But he'd come around. Han grasped Lore's hand, and they shook on it.

"Just like the good old days," he said happily.

Lore winced and, once again, brushed his fingers against his old blaster scars. "Let's hope not."

The man in the gray, hooded robe slipped out of the gambling club, satisfied.

Han Solo would take the job. He would infiltrate the Imperial satellite station, and while there, he would find...

Well, that was the question, wasn't it?

The man returned to the alley behind the club. These days, he felt more comfortable in the shadows. "I still don't like this," he said, to the open air.

He paused for a moment, feeling rather silly, waiting for a response that might never come.

"We agreed on this course." The figure shimmering before him was solid and not solid, there and not there, all at the same time. He glowed with an inner light, and yet the night remained dark, "Search yourself, Ferus. You know this is right."

"Perhaps. But it feels wrong." Ferus Olin was decades away from his apprenticeship at the Jedi Temple, a sanctuary that no longer existed. And yet, even from beyond the grave, Master Obi-f0 Wan Ken.o.bi still had the ability to make him feel like a rebellious Padawan. Not that Ferus had ever been been a rebellious Padawan. He'd done everything he was told, accepted every order without question, performed every task perfectly and without hesitation-until the day he'd made a fateful mistake, and someone had been killed. Not just someone. A friend. a rebellious Padawan. He'd done everything he was told, accepted every order without question, performed every task perfectly and without hesitation-until the day he'd made a fateful mistake, and someone had been killed. Not just someone. A friend.

And not just my mistake, he thought. Anakin's, too Anakin's, too.

Ferus had walked away from the Jedi Order. Forever, he thought. And yet here he was, decades later, learning at the feet of a Master all over again.

He had gotten a valuable lesson all those years ago, the day Thel-Tanis had died. Sometimes a wrong decision can get someone killed. Ferus had vowed never to make such a decision again.

Yet he'd made several.

"Whatever information is on that station, I can get it myself," he said. "There's no reason to risk Han's life."

"The life is his to risk," Obi-f0 Wan said. "The decision was his to make."

"But we're not giving giving him a decision!" Ferus countered. "We're manipulating him." him a decision!" Ferus countered. "We're manipulating him."

After nearly two decades undercover on Alderaan, looking out for Princess Leia's safety, Ferus had struck out on his own. Darth Vader was on the trail of the pilot who had blown up the Death Star, and he couldn't be allowed to discover the truth. If he found Luke-if he guessed the truth-all would be lost.

Ferus was on the trail of First Lieutenant Slej Hant, an Imperial officer whom Vader had a.s.signed to ferret out the information. But as he pa.s.sed through the Arkanis sector, one of Ferus's informants had tipped him off about another Imperial on the same mission. According to the informant, a high-ranking officer had parked himself on a satellite station in the Zoma system, a nearly forgotten outpost that would keep him far from Vader's prying eye. Ferus's spy claimed that the man was desperate to find the Death Star's destroyer before Vader did...and he was getting close.

But so was Slej Hant, and he was about to take off for the Subterrel sector, a far-flung corner of s.p.a.ce beyond the Outer Rim. An Imperial agent could have no possible business there.

Unless he was headed for Polis Ma.s.sa, the arid, remote planetoid where Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa had been born.

Ferus was torn. Worried as he was about this other Imperial, he couldn't allow Vader's minion to ferret out Luke and Leia's ident.i.ties. Obi-f0 Wan, as usual, had cut through the confusion, speaking with infuriating certainty, even from beyond the grave. "Han Solo will infiltrate the station. He'll find the answers that he needs."

"Solo?" Ferus had asked in confusion. "The pilot?" They'd met briefly on Delaya, but Ferus had paid little attention. Because Delaya had also been the site of his first meeting with Luke Skywalker. Every moment they had spent together, Ferus had been wracked with doubts. Should he tell the boy the truth?

Or accede to Obi-f0 Wan's wishes, and let him chart his own course for just a little longer?

Amidst all the confusion, Han Solo had barely made an impression.

"The pilot." Obi-f0 Wan's cryptic smile was just as infuriating in death as in life. "He's on his own now, searching. He needs direction. And he will find it on the Zoma station."

"That makes no sense," Ferus had complained. Yet he had done as Obi-f0 Wan requested, opening himself up to the Force. Drawing in its strength and its wisdom as he groped for the way to move forward. And he felt it too. Obi-f0 Wan was right.

This was Han's mission. He would infiltrate the satellite station in the Zoma system and find the answers they all needed to save Luke and Leia.

If he survived.

CHAPTER NINE.

Luke hunched over the controls of his T-16 skyhopper, waiting for Fixer to set off the starter flare. He missed the familiar feel of his old skyhopper, which was long gone, destroyed along with the rest of the Lars moisture farm. But this one, which he'd borrowed from Windy, would get the job done.

Luke engaged the repulsorlifts, hovering a few meters above the ground. He gave the thrusters a gentle push, tipping the T-16 slightly to its side and then upright again, just to get a feel for it. It had been a long time since he'd flown one of these. The last time he'd raced, he'd been curled into the cramped seat of a Podracer, a rickety bucket tethered to roaring engines that, without warning, could flip you up and out. Compared to that, the skyhopper was like a kiddie ride. Its central airfoil offered significant stability, and its gyrostabilizers would allow Luke to make hairpin turns and wild spins without fear of spiraling out of control.

No, winning a skyhopper race wasn't a matter of balance. It was a matter of speed-whether you could push the ion engine past its 1,200 kilometer an hour capacity. It was a matter of agility-whether you could gauge the angles and hit your marks better than your compet.i.tion.

And, when it came to the Stone Needle, it was a matter of daring-whether you were willing to risk your life, just to win a race.

"Ready!" Fixer called, raising the signal flare over his head. "Set!"

Luke glanced at Jaxson out of the corner of his eye, then turned back to his own controls, letting the rest of the world fall away as he focused on the course ahead of him.

For you, Biggs, he thought, ready to push the thrusters to their limits.

He would risk anything to win this race.

Fixer squeezed the trigger, and the sky flashed red with the signal blast.

" Go! Go! " "

Luke took off at the signal, his skyhopper shooting forward a split second before Jaxson's. Desert streamed past, blurring into a mud of browns and grays.