Abyss Page 28

  Instead, Luke asked, “When you visited the Pool of Knowledge, who did you see sitting on the Throne of Balance?”

  The yellow flash that briefly colored Jacen’s eyes betrayed his surprise. But his expression remained calm, becoming almost beatific. Ben realized this was a question Jacen wanted to answer, one that he had never expected to be asked.

  Instead of replying, however, Jacen cocked a brow. “First, would you mind telling me who you saw?”

  “Not at all,” Luke replied. “Allana, surrounded by a retinue of species from all across the galaxy. She looked quite happy.”

  A smile of relief—or perhaps it was triumph—came to Jacen’s face. “Then it doesn’t matter who I saw,” he said. “But it wasn’t you …if, by chance, that’s what you were thinking.”

  Their conversation was, of course, entirely lost on Ben. He had no more idea what the Throne of Balance was than he did the Pool of Knowledge. And to tell the truth, it all sounded like the kind of mind-boggling stuff that could lead a guy down a dark path before he realized he had stepped into a shadow.

  But the relief in his father’s Force aura, Ben did understand—and he understood the gratitude, as well. And he was thankful to Jacen for those two things, even if nothing else.

  Luke gave Jacen a wry smile, then inclined his head and said, “It wasn’t, but thanks.”

  Had Ben not been so attuned to Luke’s Force aura, he would not have noticed that his father had just done something that he had believed his father never did. Luke Skywalker had lied.

  Jacen returned Luke’s wry smile. “I didn’t think so.”

  He closed his eyes and began to sink beneath the surface, and, suddenly, Ben realized he couldn’t let his cousin go like that—not if he wanted to keep the promise he had made to his mother.

  “Jacen, wait,” he said.

  Jacen opened his eyes and stopped sinking.

  “I, uh, I just wanted you to know,” Ben said. “Jacen, I forgive you.”

  Jacen returned to the surface so he could speak. “That’s good, Ben. It’s one burden you won’t have to carry through life. Go with the Force.”

  “Thanks.” Ben was so surprised by the sincerity in Jacen’s voice that he almost didn’t know what to say. “You too, I guess.”

  Jacen snorted in amusement. “Ben, I am with the Force.” He paused, as though waiting for Ben to say something else, then finally asked, “Isn’t there a question you wanted to ask me?”

  “Well, yeah.” Ben glanced nervously toward the woman in the mist. While he wasn’t sure that his father would believe anything Jacen told them about the mysterious figure, the question seemed worth asking. “But I didn’t want it to seem like I was trying to buy an answer.”

  Jacen shook his head. “Ben, didn’t I just tell you to be honest with me?” He turned toward the Mists of Forgetfulness. “I wish I could help you, but I have no idea who that is.”

  Ben’s heart sank. He half suspected Jacen was lying to him, but he saw no use in entertaining such bitter feelings. Either he had forgiven Jacen or he hadn’t, and it would be better for him if he had. At least he thought that was what his mother had been telling him.

  “No problem, Jacen,” Ben said. “Have a peaceful …whatever.”

  “Damnation,” Jacen supplied. He turned toward the Mists of Forgetfulness, then added, “But Ben, if you really need to know who she is, the lake doesn’t stretch forever. Just keep walking—you have all the time in the universe.”

  Ben scowled, certain now that Jacen was toying with him. “Thanks, Jacen.” He glanced toward his stubborn father. “That was bound to be a big help.”

  Jacen gave him a cruel smirk. “Just choose and act, Ben.” He sank beneath the water again, his eyes turning a bright, burning white. “Choose and act.”

  “Good advice,” Ben said. He watched until his cousin had sunk back beneath the water and closed his eyes again, then turned to his father. “Dad, I’ve just made a command decision. If Jacen tells us we have all the time in the universe—”

  “We’re in trouble, I know.” Luke turned away from the mists, then waved Rhondi and their guides back toward the near end of the lake. “Let’s go home.”

  “But what about the lady in the mists?” the Givin asked, moving to block their way. “You can’t leave before you know who she—”

  “I know one thing.” Luke brought his hand up, planting his palm in the center of the Givin’s chest and using a Force-enhanced strike to send him flying out of their path. “It’s time to get back to the Shadow.”

  STRAPPED INTO THE COPILOT’S SEAT OF THE MILLENNIUM FALCON in full vac suit and battle harness, Han’s granddaughter looked exactly like what she was: an eight-year-old girl at play. Her small boots barely reached past the edge of the seat, her helmeted head fell five centimeters short of the headrest, and her gray eyes were as big and round as casino chips. But she was also a child princess on her first real mission, an heiress in training for one of the toughest jobs in the galaxy—and that was the thing that tore at Han’s heart.

  He and Leia had talked it over with Tenel Ka, and the Queen Mother had made it clear that any Hapan Chume’da needed to learn the ways of the galaxy early and well. But it just seemed so blasted unfair. How was Allana supposed to have a childhood? When did she get to be just a little girl? Thinking back on the three children he had given to the galaxy already—the two sons he had lost and the daughter he still might—Han knew the biggest mistake he had made lay in letting them grow up too fast, in letting their destinies start pulling them away while they were still too young to vote.

  And now here he was, under Tenel Ka’s orders to do it all again. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to see it through—but he did know that he loved Allana too much to give it anything short of his best.

  A ready tweedle sounded from the engineering socket at the rear of the flight deck, and then C-3PO announced, “Artoo reports that all hatches are sealed and all ship systems are functioning at optimal efficiency.”

  “Optimal?” Han asked, twisting around to look back at the two droids. “Did we board the wrong YT?”

  C-3PO’s golden head tipped to one side. “I highly doubt that, Captain Solo. There are only a handful of these antiques still in service, and the odds of another one accidentally occupying the Falcon’s berth are—”

  “Don’t tell me. Just have Artoo do a double check.” Han glanced over at Allana and winked. “Optimal everything just isn’t the Falcon.”

  Artoo trilled a few notes, then C-3pO said, “It seems there’s a perfectly good explanation,” he said. “Before putting her plan into action, Mistress Jaina spent thirty-two hours fine-tuning the ship’s systems.”

  Han knew it was her way of trying to make amends for keeping Jag’s secret—which only made his stomach churn that much harder. “Was Jag with her?”

  A negative chirp came from R2-D2.

  “Well, that’s something. At least we don’t have to check for those fancy eavesdropping bugs of his.” Han turned forward again, then glanced over at Allana. “You ready for the checklist?”

  Allana nodded enthusiastically. But she did not direct her attention to the datapad in her lap.

  “Grandpa, why are you still so mad at Jaina? She’s trying really hard to show you how sorry she is.”

  Han sighed. “I know, sweetie. And I guess I’m not really mad at her. It’s more like I’m mad for her.”

  “Because she’s in such a hard spot about Jag?”

  “That’s …” Han paused, realizing he wasn’t being honest with Allana because he wasn’t being honest with himself. “Maybe. I think it’s more because she still doesn’t know the kind of spot she’s in.”

  “And being mad at her will change that?”

  “probably not,” Han admitted.

  Allana furrowed her brow, and her crash helmet slid down so far that the rim almost covered her eyes. “Then why are you doing it, Grandpa?”

  Han frowned. “You’re a lot like y
our grandmother, you know that?”

  Allana smiled. “Really?”

  Han let his chin drop in defeat. “Yeah, really,” he said. “Okay, if I promise to stop being mad at Jaina, can we get this bucket launched? Your grandmother is waiting on us, you know, and it’s a long way to Shedu Maad.”

  “Especially with all those crazies on her ship.” Allana winced, then added, “Don’t tell Barv I said that, okay?”

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Han said.

  Allana nodded. “I know.” She picked up her datapad. “Ready to check off.”

  “Finally.” Han turned his attention back to the control panel, then started down the list that was as much a part of him as Allana herself. “Repulsorlift drives ready to engage?”

  “Check.”

  “Ion drives on standby?”

  “Check.”

  “Nav computer spooled up?”

  “Check.”

  And so they continued, until they had exhausted the list and Han knew the ship was ready to launch. But he didn’t stop there, because there was still something that Allana needed to learn about crazy capers, and it was his job to teach her.

  “Barabels in the gun turrets?” Han asked.

  Allana studied her datapad for a moment, then frowned. “Grandpa, that’s not on the list.”

  “It’s not?” Han lifted his brow in mock surprise. “You sure?”

  Allana shook her head and looked up, then saw his expression and realized he was putting her on. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Han smiled. “But we still need them, right?”

  Allana nodded, then thought for a moment and reached out to touch the intercom button on her seat. “Dordi, Zal—are you in the turrets?”

  The confirmations came so quick that the Barabels were almost transmitting over each other. “Dordi on the back …”

  “And Zal in the belly.”

  The report ended in a fit of hysterical sissing that left Allana frowning at the speaker. “Did I say something funny?”

  “Nope. They’re just Barabels,” Han told her.

  During the war against the Yuuzhan Vong, Dordi and Zal had been adolescent pilots in Saba Sebatyne’s all-Jedi Wild Knights squadron. Now that they had finally reached adulthood, there was talk of them starting a nest with Saba’s son, Tesar.

  Han thought of a Temple overrun by dozens of voracious Barabel younglings, then smiled and added, “Nobody really gets Barabels.”

  Allana’s eyes lit with comprehension. “So, it’s like after we saved Kessel, when you and Lando sat down with all that Gizer—”

  “Yeah, it’s kind of like that,” Han said, not wanting to know how much of that conversation she had overhead. “What about Wilyem?”

  Allana depressed her intercom button again. “Wilyem, are you—”

  “Yessss,” the Barabel’s raspy voice answered. “Wilyem in the tail.”

  Another fit of sissing erupted over the intercom speakers.

  This time, Allana merely shook her head and asked, “Grandpa, are you sure we need them?”

  Han feigned disappointment. “What’s the first thing you do on a job?”

  Allana smiled confidently. “Find the tracking beacons!”

  “That comes later,” Han said, shaking his head. “It’s the first rule of escape.” He tapped the control panel. “I mean before we even board the ship.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Allana said. “Make sure you have the right crew for the job.”

  “And what kind of job are we pulling?”

  “A crazy one.” Allana’s eyes brightened with pride. “And that’s why you wanted Barabels.”

  “Exactly,” Han said. “When you need crazy—”

  “—call a Barabel,” Allana finished. “Got it.”

  “You’re a quick learner, kid.” Though Han meant it sincerely, his pride carried with it a note of sorrow. She would need to learn fast, because everything that fate had demanded of his own growing children would also be demanded of her …and perhaps more. He turned away so Allana wouldn’t see him choking down the lump in his throat, then checked a gauge. Then he grinned at her and said, “Okay. Maybe you’d better let your grandmother and Saba know we’re ready to get out of here.”

  “Okay.”

  Allana started to reach for her helmet microphone set, then quickly dropped her hand, even before Han could remind her that they were under comm silence. She closed her eyes, reached for Leia in the Force, and smiled as she felt her grandmother’s touch.

  “You’d better go,” she said. “Grandma feels like she’s in a hurry.”

  “What about Saba?” Han asked. “Did she feel like she was in position with those StealthXs?”

  “I … think so,” Allana said, twisting her lips in confusion. “She just feels kind of hungry.”

  “Close enough.” Han commed the flight-control officer to let them know that the Longshot—the false transponder code under which the Falcon had been berthed at the spaceport—was ready to depart, then said, “Buckle up your crazy-cap.”

  Allana rolled her eyes. “With you around, who needs a cap?”

  Once the dome had retracted, he lifted the Falcon out of her berth, then tipped the nose up and pushed the throttles forward. With the inertial compensator not yet engaged, the acceleration pinned him back in his seat, and they shot through the opening into a bank of gray Coruscant smog. Allana squealed in delight while C-3PO sputtered in electronic surprise.

  “Captain Solo, perhaps you should check your instruments,” he said. “You’re still accelerating, and we’re already traveling in excess of the legal velocity at this altitude.”

  “I know, Goldenrod,” Han said. “We’ve got to make this look good.”

  A moment later they emerged from the haze into the bustling expanse of Coruscant’s contrail-laced troposphere. Han activated the inertial compensator and pushed the throttles to the stops, climbing for space at maximum repulsorlift power. R2-D2 tweedled a report.

  “Oh my,” C-3PO said. “Now you’ve drawn the attention of Galactic City Air Traffic Control. Artoo says they’re querying our transponder.”

  “That’s why we’re called the bait, Threepio,” Allana explained to the droid. “We want them to chase us instead of Grandma.” She turned to Han. “Right?”

  “Pretty close,” Han said. “But we’re actually pulling a Toydarian double-reverse spinner.”

  Allana scowled as though Han had just pulled a spinner on her. “A toy what?”

  “Toydarian double-reverse spinner,” Han explained, taking his eyes off the darkening sky just long enough to glance over at her. “Look, Daala’s pretty smart, right?”

  Allana nodded. “Give the other guy credit,” she said, quoting one of Han’s favorite high-stakes credos. “If he’s good enough to be in the game, he’s good enough to take your credits.”

  “Exactly,” Han said. “So, we gotta think Daala knows that we know she’ll be watching when we try to sneak our barvies off Coruscant.”

  Allana looked down, using her fingers to keep track of Han’s points, then finally nodded. “Everyone knows. Got it.”

  “Good. So we’re going to show her a little respect.”

  Allana raised her brow. “We’re going to bow to her?”

  “Not that kind of respect,” Han said, shaking his head. “We’re going to let her know that we think she’s pretty smart.”

  Allana’s eyes widened, and she asked, “And you think that will make her careless?”

  “A little bit,” Han confirmed. “Everybody likes to feel smart, so when you show them you think they are smart, they tend to take you at your word.”

  “And taking our word is the same as taking our bait?”

  “In this situation, yeah,” Han said. “When Daala sees us making a straight-up speed break, she’ll think we decided there’s no use trying to trick her. And then do you know what she’ll do?”

  “Send everything she has to catch us?”

  Han nodded. “That’s right,” he said
. “And that’s when your grandmother will slip away in the Gizer Gut.”

  “After I Force-touch her again.” Allana frowned, then added, “There’s only one thing wrong with your plan, Grandpa.”

  Han gave her a patient smile. “And what’s that, sweetheart?”

  “You’re trying to flatter Chief Daala,” Allana said. “And Mom says a smart woman never believes it when someone flatters her.”

  Han felt his smile melt away. “Well, this isn’t really flattery,” he said, putting more confidence into his voice than he felt. “It’s more like just not treating her like she’s dumb.”

  Allana’s brows dropped into a V. “You’re bluffing.”

  “What? No way.” Han looked forward again, then sighed. “Okay, what’s my tell?”

  “Your voice rose,” Allana said proudly. “Plus, well, I have the Force.”

  Han rolled his eyes. “That blasted Force—it’s been getting me in trouble with women since I met your grandmother,” he said. “Anyway, don’t worry. I’m ninety percent sure this is going to work.”

  “And when you’re flying with Captain Solo, those are very good odds indeed,” C-3PO offered from the communications station. “Even adjusting for his usual exaggeration, that gives us a sixty-seven percent chance of success.”

  Before Han could turn to bark at the droid, Allana said, “Oh, I’m not worried, Grandpa—as long as we have a backup plan.”

  Han thought he might have been developing some Force sensitivity himself, because even though he was still looking out at the stars popping into view as they departed the atmosphere, he could feel her staring at him.

  “We do have a backup plan,” Allana said. “Right?”

  He switched to the ion drives, then, as the Falcon kicked over to the more powerful engines, pulled the throttles back and said, “Sure we do.”

  “Good.” Allana was silent for a moment, then asked, “What is it?” Han shrugged. “Hard to say. Your grandmother is in charge of backup plans.”

  Before Allana could press the matter further, the no-nonsense voice of an orbital control officer sounded over the flight deck speaker. “Light freighter Longshot, you’ve just broken every procedure in the manual for departing Coruscant. Please proceed to impound station Trill Aurek Papa for inspection.”