Star Wars_ The New Rebellion Part 38

Chewie began to growl.

"I know, I know," Han said. "It stinks."

"That's an understatement," Blue said. She had her hand over her nose. "I don't want to be here when these things decay." They picked their way across the bodies. The opening into the next cavern was also full of Glottalphib bodies, and five Skippers, all of which were unattended.

Blue smiled. "Reks. You've gotta love them. They only think of themselves."

"Rather like you, huh, Blue?" Han said.

She patted his shoulder. "I do a good deed now and then, Solo. I didn't have to bring you here." He moved her hand away from him. "You could have worked harder to rescue me, Blue. I saved your life."

"A favor for a favor, Han. I figured we were even at that point." Lando and Chewie were looking at the Skippers. "This one is ready to go," Lando said. "If you know how to hot-wire these things."

"There's always an access code," Blue said. "And with Nan-dreeson, it should be obvious." She pushed them aside, and studied the small voice monitor.

"You don't think it has voice recognition, do you?" Han asked.

Blue laughed. "All Glottalphibs sound alike." She tapped the edge. "What are Nandreeson's favorite things, Lando?"

"Why ask me?" he said. "I hadn't seen the man for years."

"I thought you'd know his obsessions," she said.

"I only knew of one," Lando said.

"All right." She leaned against the jamb and said, "Kill Calris-sian," in a remarkable approximation of a nasal Glottalphib voice.

The door slid back. She grinned. "Well, gentlemen, let's go back to Skip 1 and see if they stripped the Falcon in our absence."

C-3PO and R2-D2 had returned to the Solos' chambers to discover that Leia had left. The computer informed them that she had resigned her position as Chief of State and had given orders to shut down the apartments until a family member returned, then it threw the droids out.

Mon Mothma had replaced Mistress Leia, and the droids were in her anteroom now, along with a collection of senators' aides, well-wishers, and employment seekers. The antechamber was packed. 3PO leaned against the wall, next to a metal sculpture that looked suspiciously like a droid's innards, and R2 rocked beside him. They were the only droids, except for the receptionist droid, a new model who refused to acknowledge 3PO at all. On her list, she kept adding the sentients first, from the Kloperian guard Leia had relieved of duty (and from whom R2 had hidden behind an Ychthytonian) to a winged Agee that had flown into the room on a lark.

When the Kloperian went into Mon Mothma's chambers, R2 began rocking.

Hard.

"Settle down, R2," 3PO said. "I'm sure Mon Mothma will see us. She knows how important we are." R2 whistled and the conversation in the room stopped. Heads swiveled, and focused on the droids. 3PO put his hands up as if nothing had happened, and the conversations resumed. Except for the receptionist. She continued to stare at 3PO as if he had committed a major breach of etiquette.

"Now you've done it," 3PO said. "Your rudeness will get us tossed out of here." R2 cheebled and rocked, his wheels clanging on the tile floor.

"That is a bit melodramatic, even for you. No one is going to die simply because we're waiting in line." R2 blatted at him, and the Ychthytonian looked down at him.

"Yer little friend is kind of agitated." 3PO nodded. "He believes we've found-" R2 shrilled.

The Ychthytonian put all four hands over his ears. Some of the humans cringed. The Agee flew out of the room as quickly as she had arrived.

"That's it," the receptionist droid said as she stood. "You droids can leave."

"See what you've done?" 3PO hissed at R2. "Now I have to go convince her that we should stay. It won't be an easy battle, what with all the names you've called her. Most droids, no matter what their designation, dislike being termed traitor, you know. She's only doing her job, and rather well at that, if I might say so." He left R2's side and pushed his way to the desk. The receptionist droid was standing, her bronze arms crossed. "You have no business here," she said. "The President is only dealing with important matters today."

"This is important," 3PO said.

"I'm certain it is to you," the receptionist said. "But whatever the problem is, it can wait."

"I'm afraid it can't," 3PO said. He lowered his voice. "You see, my counterpart and I have found the cause of the bombing in the Senate Hall.

We were going to report this to President Leia Organa Solo, but she has stepped down. So we came to her successor."

"Delusional," the receptionist said. "They really should have retired your make a generation ago. I had heard that your type was given to hyperbole. I hadn't believed it until now."

"This is not hyperbole!" 3PO said, pulling himself up to his fullest height. "This is fact. You should know the difference."

"If you don't move from my desk, I shall have you removed by force," the receptionist droid said.

"You will not," 3PO said. "I am the personal droid of President Leia Organa Solo, and my counterpart belongs to her brother, the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. We are above your petty bureaucratic power gambits. If you tamper with us, you'll be tampering with some of the most important people in Coruscant."

"Your counterpart?" the receptionist droid asked. "Do you mean the astromech droid that was squealing rudely a few moments ago?"

"Yes," 3PO said. "He's eccentric, but he's a hero of several battles and is quite well-known."

"Well, then you shouldn't have any trouble finding him," the receptionist droid said.

"Finding him?"

"He left when you came up here." 3PO spun. "R2? R2!" The room had quieted as the pet.i.tioners watched the exchange between the receptionist droid and 3PO. There was a gap in the wall near the sculpture where R2 had been. The Ychthytonian pointed his top left arm toward the door.

"She's right," he said. "Yer little buddy zoomed out while you were arguing. He was heading toward the pilots' turbolift."

"The pilots' turbolift? " 3PO said. "Oh, dear. Oh, dear." He started out, then stopped, and turned to the reception droid. "I expect you to inform Mon Mothma that we were here. If you do not, I will personally make certain that you are demoted to working as a translator for mechanical garbage compactors." Then he hurried out of the room, calling for R2. The hallway was full of more pet.i.tioners arriving to see Mon Mothma.

Apparently the change in leadership meant that opportunists were trying to see if Mon Mothma would help them where Mistress Leia had not. 3PO pushed past several young humans, a Gosfambling, and a Lleweb.u.m, and stopped in front of the pilots' turbolift.

It was called that because it led directly into the shipyard. The Emperor's pilots had been on call all the time. Any threat to the Empire had the pilots on the turbolift, going down kilometers to the ships, and taking off to defend Coruscant. The New Republic had deemed the lift useful, and had kept both it and its name.

The turbolift was just returning to this floor.

"R2," 3PO said softly, "when I catch up with you, I am going to recommend a restraining bolt." The turbolift doors opened, and 3PO stepped on. He hit Express and braced himself as the car plunged. At the bottom, the doors opened. 3PO peered through them.

The doors into the pilots' wing were opened, the panel on the computer-locking system on the ground. R2 had been in a hurry; normally he replaced such things. Machinery hummed at the far end of the wing.

3PO scurried down the hallway. It was empty. He slid into the bay. Dozens of X-wings were in various states of disrepair. Master Luke's stood near the s.p.a.ce doors, as if waiting for him to return.

Beyond that were other ships in various states of disrepair. And no sign of R2.

"Oh, dear," 3PO said. "I don't like this." He stepped over power cables and computer parts. Then a movement flashed in the next room. 3PO hurried toward it. R2 was standing near a stock light freighter. It appeared newly rea.s.sembled. Someone had taken the time to clean the carbon scoring and s.p.a.ce dirt off the sides.

"What are you thinking, R2?" R2 whistled.

"I can't pilot a freighter. You know droids can't. We need help, R2." R2 chirruped.

"They aren't ignoring you. R2, you must see someone in charge!" R2 beeped again. 3PO hurried toward the freighter.

"R2, really. Just because you couldn't speak to Mon Mothma when you wished doesn't mean that you can't wait. It would have been only a moment longer, and I would have gotten you inside." R2 bleebled.

"Of course you have time. There's always time." R2 moaned.

"Surely it can't be as bad as all that, R2!" R2 warbled.

"Let me talk with Mon Mothma," 3PO said. "I'm sure she'll send someone-"

R2 emitted a long, lengthy raspberry.

"R2, really. What were you planning to do? Wait for the owner to return?

You have no idea what sort of person flies this contraption-" R2 beeped indignantly.

"All right," 3PO said. "So I don't know what your plan is. But I believe that if we take the official route-" R2 warbled. The sound was almost happy.

Footsteps sounded behind them.

3PO turned.

Cole Fardreamer stood in the doorway, wiping his hands on a rag. "I suppose the cryptic message Luke Skywalker left for me on the systems computer actually came from you, R2, since Master Skywalker isn't here to meet me." R2 cheebled.

"R2," 3PO said softly, "you aren't supposed to tamper with the equipment.

And using Master Luke's codes!"

"I think the chiding can wait. The message sounded urgent," Cole said.

R2 swiveled his head and beeped.

"R2 wants to know who owns the stock light freighter," 3PO said, "although I don't know why. Frankly, Master Far-dreamer, R2 has acted strangely since he was. .h.i.t with that blaster fire."

"R2 has good instincts," Cole said. He came into the room.

"The freighter was stolen, and we impounded it. I've been fixing it up.

No one really owns it. I think we'll try to sell it." R2 churbled and rocked.

"R2," 3PO said. "Really, Master Fardreamer, he's not himself." Cole smiled. "I think you might want to translate for me." 3PO glanced at R2.

R2 wailed. "Oh, all right," 3PO said. "R2 believes he knows who bombed the Senate Hall. He says if we don't go there immediately, there will be another explosion."

"To the Senate Hall?"

"No," 3PO said, as if Cole were slow. "To the place that the detonators came from." R2 cheebled urgently.

"He wants to know, sir, if you can help us." Cole Fardreamer frowned at the stock light freighter. "I don't know," he said after a moment. "But I can certainly try."

THIRTY-FOUR.

Leia had six military personnel on her small ship. Wedge had insisted that she have them in case of attack, but she suspected they were all on board to guard her. Wedge-and Mon Mothma-weren't certain what she was going to do, and they wanted to keep her from doing something crazy.

She had never let anyone stop her before.

They wouldn't stop her now.

Even though the young lieutenant, Tchiery, had insisted on piloting, Leia had rebuffed him. She needed the control. This was her mission, even though she was letting Wedge lead the fleet. She wanted to know the course, and the plan, and not veer from it.

Unless she wanted to.

Once she saw Almania, she would know what to do.

Her new crewmembers were in the galley, arguing over dinner. The c.o.c.kpit was blessedly silent, allowing her to think. The copilot's chair still bore the impression from Tchiery's body. He was a Farnym. Farnyms were creatures noted for their bowling-ball roundness, and the incredible strength behind their unusual shape. They had close-cut fur, small snouts, and large orange eyes. Tchiery was no different. They also had a peculiar odor, like ginger mixed with san-dalwood, an odor that remained in the c.o.c.kpit long after Tchiery was gone.

The fleet fanned out behind her, thirty strong. How Mon Mothma was going to justify Wedge taking most of the working ships in the a.r.s.enal was beyond Leia. Wedge and his commanders rode in three large ships, and were accompanied by squadrons of smaller ships, mostly A - and B-wings. It was amazing how many ships he and Admiral Ackbar had been able to sc.r.a.pe together quickly.

Admiral Ackbar had opted to remain behind. He would cover their tracks as best he could, but surely Meido and his gang would notice thirty ships leaving Coruscant simultaneously. What they would not notice was the tiny, unmarked Alderaan. Leia counted on that. She didn't want anyone to know she was part of this mission until it was too late to recall the ships.

She leaned back in the pilot's chair, took a handful of her long hair, and quickly tied it into a ponytail. It was the third time she had made a ponytail. She kept pulling out the twist, a nervous habit from childhood that she thought she had lost. A lot of nervous habits had returned since Kueller had destroyed that second planet. She knew that when she returned she would have to deal with all the feelings those habits hid.

If she returned.

She had no idea what sort of weapon Kueller was using. The planets remained, but the people seemed to disappear. That wasn't a Death Star or a Sun Crusher. No great single weapon to destroy with a bolt. The fleet couldn't bomb it out of existence because they didn't know what it was.

They couldn't bomb Almania out of existence either. That would make the New Republic no better than the Empire had been.

Leia wasn't certain Wedge had thought all those details through. She would send his military personnel back with a message to his ship, the Yavin, when they reached Almanian s.p.a.ce. No overall bombing until the target was sighted. If the target was obvious, then of course she wouldn't even send the message. But if it wasn't, the crew would go back to Wedge, and she would disappear into Al-mania's atmosphere.

To find Kueller herself.

Because she still wasn't certain if he was after the New Republic or if he was after her family. He was strong in the Force, which made him a powerful enemy. For the thousandth time, she wished she had listened to Luke and completed her Jedi training. She wouldn't be able to outnegotiate Kueller, at least not for the long term. But she might be able to outfight him, with Luke's help.

She pulled the twist out of her hair, and the strands cascaded down her back. The stars looked no different. Even in hyperdrive, the distance to Almania was incredible. It was amazing that Kueller had even considered his planet part of the New Republic. Planets this far out usually liked to retain their independence. Almania had maintained its independence from the Empire. It should have continued such behavior under the New Republic.

Yet another detail that didn't make sense.

So many details about Almania didn't make sense, partly because the information about the planet was sketchy. She suspected that the Je'har had aligned themselves with the Rebellion for form's sake and to protect their government, not because of any real allegiance or caring about the fight against the Empire. So far as she could tell, no Almanian joined the military on either side.

But someone had mentioned that Almanians had sent a distress message to her government years ago that never got a response. Perhaps that was why Kueller had come after the New Republic.