Vision of the future swhot-2 Page 11

  "I don't remember lawbreaking being on the program," Leia said. But the tensions were already starting to fade away, and she discovered with mild surprise that the issue of false IDs wasn't even sending a ripple of guilt through her conscience. Considering some of the things she'd done in her life—including open and active rebellion against a legally established government—this was hardly something to get worked up over. "You wouldn't get away with it if Threepio was here."

  "Not without having to listen to a lecture, anyway," Han said, making a face. Leia smiled. "Oh, come on, Han. Admit it—you miss him, too."

  "I do not," Han protested. "I just—never mind."

  "Never mind what?"

  Han grimaced. "Thinking about Threepio makes me think about Karrde; and I still don't like the idea of him heading off to the Outer Rim with that Shada D'ukal woman. I know you didn't pick up any treachery when we talked to her, but I still think she's trouble." Leia sighed. Shada D'ukal, former bodyguard to the smuggler chief Mazzic, who had casually slipped through the Noghri screen around their Manarai Mountain apartment and invited herself into their private strategy session with Karrde and Lando. A potentially powerful ally? Or an equally deadly enemy? "I don't particularly like it, either," she told Han. "But Karrde's a big boy, and it was his idea to take her along. Did you ever get in touch with Mazzic to ask about her, by the way?" Han shook his head. "The word's still floating around the fringe that I want to talk to him, but nothing came through before we left Pakrik Major. 'Course, now it'll have to wait till we get back." Leia raised her eyebrows. "You mean you didn't even tell your smuggler contacts we were going to Pakrik Minor? You are serious about this being a vacation."

  "Nice," he growled.

  Silence descended on the cockpit. Leia watched Pakrik Minor as it came steadily closer, trying to recover the mood she'd had before the topic of Karrde and Shada had come up. But for some reason the peace refused to come. She stretched out with the Force, trying to calm her thoughts and emotions...

  On the control panel, the proximity warning began beeping. "Crazy hotshots," Han muttered, frowning at the displays. "What in space do they think they're doing?" And with the shock of a slap to the face Leia suddenly understood. "Han, look out!" she blurted. He reacted instantly, old smuggler's reflexes combining with unquestioning faith in his wife's Jedi abilities to send the Falcon into a sharp sideways drop—

  Just as a pair of brilliant red laser bolts sliced through space above them.

  "Deflectors!" Han snapped, straightening out of his drop and throwing the ship into another turn. Leia had already hit the switch. "On," she confirmed, keying the weapons panel and taking a quick look at the aft display. There were three small ships back there, starfighter size, firing again as they scrambled to match the Falcon's maneuvers. No IDs on any of them. "Is this part of the entertainment?"

  "Not on my ticket," Han gritted. "Thanks for the warning."

  "You almost didn't get one," Leia confessed, squeezing off a salvo of shots from the Falcon's upper quad laser battery. All four shots missed. "I thought the sense nagging at me was just me worrying about Karrde and Shada."

  "Well, you can start worrying about us if you'd rather," Han said, throwing the ship into a spiraling loop. "Whoever these guys are, they're good."

  "I didn't want to hear that," Leia said, keying the comm. Time to call for help from Pakrik Defense.

  But their attackers were way ahead of her. "They're jamming our transmissions," she told Han grimly. "Even the private New Republic frequencies."

  "Like I said, they're good," Han grunted, leaning the Falcon into another evasive turn. "You notice they waited until we were too close in to the planet to jump to lightspeed, too." More laser bolts flashed past, closer this time. Leia fired another burst in response, again missing.

  "They're too maneuverable for the targeting linkage down here to handle," she said.

  "Yeah, I know," Han said. "I'm heading up to the upper quad. Get ready to take over." Leia winced. Up there at the top of the ship, with nothing between him and the attackers' lasers except the Falcon's shields and a few centimeters of transparisteel... But he was right: one of them had to do it. And even with her Jedi skills to draw on, she wasn't nearly as good a gunner as he was. "I'm ready," she said, gripping the copilot's helm yoke. The only way to protect him now was to make sure none of those lasers connected. "Any suggestions on strategy?"

  "Just try to keep us out of their sights," Han said, leaning some more on his yoke. Almost reluctantly, the Falcon pulled out of its loop— "Okay; go," he said, keying control over to Leia's side and in the same motion sliding out of his seat. "Got it?"

  "Got it," Leia acknowledged. "Be careful."

  "Yeah," Han said, and sprinted out of the cockpit.

  Leia gave him five seconds to get to the ladder, then spun the ship into a dip-and-turn maneuver designed to confuse an attacker into overshooting his target. But their pursuers were too smart to be taken in quite so easily. A glance at the aft display showed they were still there, sticking to the Falcon like starving mynocks. Another salvo shot past, this time a few of the bolts spattering off the Falcon's deflector shield.

  "Okay, I'm here," Han's voice announced over the comm unit. "How you doing?"

  "Not as well as I'd like," Leia told him. "I think they've found the range."

  "Yeah, I noticed," he said dryly. "It's okay—she'll hold together. Just keep 'em off a few more seconds."

  "I'll try," Leia said, throwing the ship into another wrenching evasive pattern and trying desperately to come up with something more concrete than just trying to stay out of their way. But there was just so little here to work with. There was Han and her and the Falcon, with the attackers crowding them from behind and the sky-filling disk of Pakrik Minor starting to crowd them from in front. Pakrik Minor... "Han, I'm going to take us in toward the planet," she called into the comlink.

  "Even with them jamming us, if we can get in close enough someone ought to notice what's happening and call in an alert."

  "Sounds good," he said. "But be careful. These guys aren't built for atmosphere maneuvers, but neither are we. Hah!"

  "What?"

  "Got one. Didn't slow him down, but I think I took out his shields. Get 'er moving." The deadly game continued. Leia pushed the Falcon's sublight drive for all it was worth, twisting their tortured way toward the growing bulk of Pakrik Minor. The hail of laser fire continued, most of it missing, but enough of the shots were connecting to become distinctly worrisome. Already the red indicators on the status boards outnumbered the green, with their number creeping up with every salvo. Unbidden, a memory flashed: her first ride in the Falcon as they tore madly away from the Death Star, blasting their way through the TIE fighter sentry line in their bid for escape. But Luke had been with them then, and Chewie and Threepio and Artoo. And the Falcon had been younger, less temperamental. Besides which, Vader and Tarkin had in fact wanted them to escape...

  Abruptly, the memory was shattered by a brilliant flash from above and behind her. "Han—!"

  "Got him!" Han's voice crowed from the comlink. "One down, two to go. She holding together?" Leia threw a quick look at the status boards. "Yes, but just barely. We've lost the ion flux stabilizers and we're down to less than half power on the sublight. Looks like another direct hit and we'll lose the rear deflector, too."

  Han grunted. "Sounds like it's time to try something clever. You ever done a smuggler's reverse?"

  "Once or twice," Leia said cautiously. "But I already tried a dip-and-turn, and that didn't do any good. They probably know all about smuggler's reverses."

  "Yeah, but you're not going to do it like they expect," Han said. "You're going to swing the Falcon around like you're bringing her to a hard stop; but instead you're going to keep spinning the rest of the way around until you're pointing at the planet again and then gun her for all she's got. That ought to throw them off guard."

  "And if it doesn't?"

  "Hang on, I'm
not done," Han said. "You give them a few seconds to hit their drives to try to catch up; and then you do a straight smuggler's reverse. With any luck, they'll shoot straight past us."

  "Or ram straight into us," Leia said with a grimace. "You ready?"

  "Ready. Do it."

  "Here goes." Setting her teeth, Leia killed the drive and twisted the Falcon hard over. The stars spun dizzyingly around—she caught a glimpse of the two fighters braking hard to keep from overshooting their target—the sunlit bulk of Pakrik Minor swung back into view—

  And she threw full power to the drive again, the acceleration pressing her back into her seat.

  "Han?"

  "Perfect," he reported with grim satisfaction. "Can you give me any more speed?"

  "Sorry, this is it," she told him, checking the displays.

  "That's okay, it'll do," he assured her. "Get ready. Smuggler's reverse... now." Bracing herself, Leia cut power and once again threw the Falcon into a spin. The attacking fighters swung back into view ahead of her, much closer this time and framed by the glow of their sublight drives flaring at full power. Killing the rotation, she threw power to the drive. The attackers tried. They really did. But even with their smaller size they had a fair amount of inertia, and with that much power already committed there was no possible way for them to stop. With their minds radiating frustration and helpless anger, they shot past the Falcon. Or rather, one of them did.

  The shock of the impact threw Leia out of her seat, the awful crunching sound from somewhere aft ringing in her ears. "Leia!" Han's voice shouted as the echoing noise was joined by a dozen warbling alarms. "Leia!"

  "I'm all right," Leia called back over the din. "Han, we've been hit."

  "Are we leaking air?"

  "I don't—I don't know," Leia stammered, blinking at the proper status board as something tried to obscure her vision. She swiped a hand across her eyes; it seemed to help. "No—hull's still intact. But the drive and repulsorlifts—"

  "I'll be down in a minute," Han cut her off. "Just hold her together." A blaze of light and color caught the corner of Leia's eye. She looked up from the controls, startled to see Pakrik Minor rotating past in front of her again. The last remaining fighter was framed in the center of the planetary disk, waggling evasively as he tried to kill his speed. But even as he swung back around, Han caught him dead center with a full salvo from the quad. With a brilliant multiple flash of fire, he was gone.

  "Okay, that does it," Han called. "I'm on my way, sweetheart." Leia nodded, swiping a hand across her eyes again and returning her attention to the status boards. The sublight drive was out, but the indicators weren't showing how much actual damage they'd taken. The repulsorlifts were in much the same shape; the doomed fighter must have hit the Falcon's underside and scraped its way back to the stern.

  Hit off-center, too—the ship was still doing a slow spin. She keyed the auxiliaries to try to straighten them out, noticing only then that the hand she'd swiped across her eyes had a bright streak of blood on it. Stretching out to the Force, she probed the injury and set the healing process in motion.

  And then Han was there, dropping into the pilot's seat beside her. "Okay, let's see," he muttered, keying his own status board. He glanced at her, did a startled double take as he spotted the blood on her forehead. "Leia—!"

  "I'm all right—it's just a cut," Leia assured him. "What are we going to do about the drive?"

  "Fix it, that's what," Han grunted, climbing out of the seat again. "And we'd better do it fast." He took off at a dead run. Leia finished adjusting the Falcon's rotation and looked up again—

  And caught her breath. Pakrik Minor, which had been uncomfortably large during the battle, now filled that whole section of the sky.

  And was getting closer.

  The Falcon had been with the two of them all their married life, and with Han even longer than that, and Leia knew it would hurt him terribly to let the ship go. But it was the height of foolishness to hold so closely to any possession that it killed you. Grimacing, she keyed for escape pod activation. Nothing happened.

  "Oh, no," she breathed, keying it again, and again. "No." But the result didn't change. The escape pods were inoperative.

  And she and Han were trapped in a ruined ship, plummeting toward the ground. Swallowing hard, she keyed the comm. It would be close, but with the jamming now gone, maybe help could get to them in time.

  But the comm indicator glowed red, one more casualty of the doomed fighter's impact. They were cut off, and all alone.

  And they were about to die.

  Leia took a deep breath, stretching out to the Force to silence the fear. Now was no time to panic. "Han, the escape pods aren't functional," she called, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

  "I know," his taut voice came back. "I spotted that when I was up there. Try the restart booster." She found the key, pressed it. "Anything?"

  "Not yet," he said. "Let me try something else."

  "You want me to come help you?"

  "No, I need you up there at the controls," Han said. "And keep an eye out—if you spot another ship, try firing an emergency signal blast from the quads."

  And hope that any such convenient ships weren't running backup for the last group. "Right." The minutes dragged on. The red lights began to wink tentatively back to green as Han worked; but not enough of them, and not nearly fast enough. A whistling sound, soft at first but growing ever louder, began to fill the cockpit as the Falcon pushed its way through Pakrik Minor's upper atmosphere without the benefit of shields to dampen the sound and the friction. The deep black of space above her began to take on a slight haze as they drove ever deeper, and Leia could feel the temperature slowly edging up. Below her, the planetary features were beginning to take on form: here a lake, over there a mountain ridge, directly beneath and ahead a wide and fertile valley.

  "Try the restart again," Han said into the silence of Leia's thoughts, his voice startling her.

  "Right." She keyed the switch, and this time there was a tentative answering rumble from the drive.

  "All right, easy," Han warned. "Don't try to stop us all at once—this jury-rig can't handle too much. Just ease in some power and see if you can start slowing us down. And if you've got any Jedi tricks up your sleeve, it's about time to give them a try."

  "I'm already trying," Leia said, her heart aching within her. She had been trying, in fact, ever since realizing the full extent of the danger they were in. She'd tried to contact any Force-sensitives in the system, had quieted the distractions in Han's mind so that he could concentrate better on his work, had stretched out to the Force looking for guidance or inspiration. But none of it seemed to have helped; and with an almost overpowering sense of helplessness she knew there was nothing more she could do. She couldn't repair the sublight engines with a wave of her hand, or stop the Falcon's inexorable fall planetward, or call for help where none existed.

  We're doomed. Threepio's oft-repeated wail echoed through her mind. It was just as well he wasn't here, she decided. Or the children, safe on Kashyyyk under Chewbacca's care. Or even their Noghri guards. If it was their time to die, there was no need for anyone else to go with them. Good-bye, Jacen, Jaina, Anakin, she thought toward the stars, knowing that the message would almost certainly not reach them, wishing with a deep regret that she could see them one last time. On the status board, almost lost in the chaos there, the proximity warning began beeping—

  And to Leia's shock, a small craft roared past overhead. "Han!" she shouted. "Another ship just—"

  She broke off, the sudden surge of hope catching like a bone in her throat. The ship had slowed to match speeds with the Falcon, riding above and just ahead of it, and giving her her first clear look at it.

  "A ship?" Han called excitedly. "Where?"

  Leia took a ragged breath. A second ship had joined the first now, paralleling the Falcon above and to the right, a third had taken up position on the left, and the aft display showed one m
ore flying directly above the sublight vents. "Never mind," she told Han quietly. "They're Imperial TIE

  interceptors."

  CHAPTER

  8

  "They're what?" There was the staccato clank of a set of tools landing on the deck. "Hang on, I'm on my way."

  Leia looked up at the ships pacing them. TIE interceptors, all right. In excellent condition, too, from what she could see of them, and she wondered where they could have come from. Surely the Imperials weren't launching an all-out attack on the Pakrik system; with the sector conference over and the delegates on their way back to their home systems there was nothing here they could possibly want.

  Unless, of course, they were the backup for the first three fighters. In which case, they were here to make sure the job was finished.

  With a screech of boots on hull plates Han skidded to a halt beside her. "What are they doing?" he panted, peering up at them.

  Leia frowned. "Nothing," she said, realizing belatedly just how odd their lack of activity was. To just sit out there and watch them crash seemed overly sadistic, even for Imperials. At least for line soldiers; she'd known some Moffs and Grand Moffs who would have reveled in something like this.

  "They're maneuvering," Han said suddenly, pointing. "That one on the left—see? He's drifting out a little."

  "I see," Leia said. "But what's the maneuvering for?" An instant later she got her answer. In perfect unison, a bright yellow disk connected by a yellow cable shot out from the underside of each of the four TIEs, slamming solidly onto positions on the Falcon's upper hull. The cables went taut; and with a jerk that nearly knocked Han off his feet, the ship's descent abruptly slowed.

  Leia looked up at Han, saw her own bewilderment mirrored in his face. "I'll be sat on by a Hutt," he murmured. "Grappling mags." He sank into the pilot's chair, looked over at her. "I give up. What's going on?"

  Leia shook her head. "I don't know," she said slowly, stretching out with the Force. "But there's something about these pilots, Han."