Honor Among Thieves: Star Wars (Empire and Rebellion) (34 page)

While Chewbacca worked, Han scanned the space around them. Eight X-wings flew in honor guard formation behind them. There were no Imperial ships in sight. The blue sky was streaked with clouds as jagged as claw marks. As he watched, the blue deepened to indigo, and the first scattering of stars showed through.

“Looks like we're all good for jump,” Luke said, his voice compressed and flattened by the headset.

“That planet is looking unstable,” Wedge's voice said.

“Noticed that,” Han replied, throwing the throttle to maximum to put as much space as possible between the
Falcon
and the planet while Chewbacca finished prepping the jump.

“Be nice,” Luke said. The sky was almost black now, the stars bright and wide and scattered.

“Be ready to jump,” Han said to all the following ships, “in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . .”

The planet detonated behind them, hurling a massive shock wave of energy and vaporized matter after them.

“One.”

The stars disappeared in a swirl of light.

Thirty-Two

The vast, dark ocean of space glittered with light. Each star was the chance of a habitable planet or moon, an independent station or asteroid base. The brightness beckoned and consoled, promising that there was life and energy and civilization all around. That the void could be overcome. And when the violence that life and stars carried with them was too much, the emptiness also offered safety.

The
Falcon
had jumped into the middle of General Rieekan's battle preparations. The young fighter pilots had been disappointed that a pitched battle around Seymarti had been avoided. The admirals had been relieved. The sting at losing the great new weapon was pulled by knowing that the Emperor didn't have it. If there were people who were relieved that the Rebellion hadn't captured the prize, either, they were quiet about it.

That didn't mean there was no joy to be taken.

“I've read the reports, Captain Solo,” Colonel Harcen said, tapping uncomfortably on his desk. “You certainly went above and beyond any of our expectations of you.”

“Thanks,” Han said, ignoring the implied criticism. “So you're ready to pay me?”

Harcen's jaw stiffened and he looked at the decking. “I wanted to discuss that with you. I notice that your requested payment was somewhat larger than—”

“I signed on for a jump to Cioran,” Han said. “We went from there to Kiamurr to Seymarti. Scenic route has more overhead.”

“But the agreement—”

Chewbacca growled and leaned forward. Harcen flinched and leaned back.

“The option was to let the Empire kill everyone on Kiamurr, break the Rebellion, and get control of the K'kybak weapon,” Han said. “If next time you want me to stop and renegotiate, we can do that, too.”

“Of course not,” Harcen said. “It may simply take a few days to arrange the transfer of the balance. I'll need to get approval.”

“You do that,” Han said.

Chewbacca howled and waved a massive fist. Han thought he was overplaying it a little, but he didn't complain. It was the simple pleasures, after all, that made life worth living. Han stood up, touched two fingers to his temple in mock salute, and headed out to the corridor.

The comfort he felt getting back to the rebel fleet with its cobbled-together ships and thirdhand air recyclers made Han a little nervous. He didn't like to think he was getting too attached, but so far he'd dealt with that by not thinking about it, and the strategy seemed to be working. Together, he and Chewbacca headed down the narrow metal stairway, then turned to port and headed for the fighter hangar and the
Millennium Falcon
. Neither spoke, but Chewbacca huffed quietly under his breath. It was something he did when he was feeling particularly self-satisfied. There was even a little spring in the Wookiee's step. As they stepped out into the chaos of ships, tool kits, coolant-delivery tubes, service droids, and orange-jumpsuited pilots, Han leaned in toward him.

“And what's got you in such a good mood?”

Chewbacca yelped twice, lifting his chin to indicate the hangar and everyone in it.

“Of course we didn't die,” Han said. “We were safe the whole time.”

Chewbacca let out a chuffing whine.

“Because
I
was there,” Han said. “That's why.”

“Han!”

He turned. Luke waved from the side of the hangar, and beside him, C-3PO echoed the gesture. Half a dozen other fighter pilots were gathered around them. Han thought he saw the glimmer of hero worship in some of their eyes. Han waved back, then looked toward the
Millennium Falcon
. The scar where Baasen's homing beacon had struck home was still bright, and the panels above the rear deflector shield were off, exposing the wires and energy couplings beneath. The thought of the hours of work ahead made Han's shoulders ache. It could wait a little bit longer.

“Hold on a minute, Chewie,” he said. He sauntered over to the group. “Hey, kid. What's going on?”

“I was just telling Gram and Ardana about what happened at Seymarti,” Luke said.

Han nodded, a knowing half smile on his face. He turned to the other pilots. “He tell you how he took down an Imperial Star Destroyer by himself?”

“I didn't do it by myself,” Luke said. “There were eight of us, and Wedge led the attack. And no, I was telling them about how you and Leia blew up the planet in order to stop the Empire.”

“Yeah. Well, all right. That's a good story.”

“Did you really ride up out of the atmosphere on the outside of an X-wing?” one of the pilots asked. She looked even younger than Luke. Pretty soon the Rebellion was going to be taking them out of diapers and putting them straight into pilot's seats, Han thought. He shrugged.

“It wasn't as impressive as it sounds,” he said. “Chewie was right there to catch us.”

The pilots' gazes all turned to Chewbacca, who stood a little taller and preened.

“What are you guys doing next?” Luke asked.

“If there's not another emergency, we're fixing the ship,” Han said.

“What about after?” the younger pilot asked.

“I'm pretty sure there'll be another emergency by then,” Han said. They all laughed like it had been a joke. And it had been, mostly.

“I was just going to go see Leia,” Luke said, stowing his helmet. “You want to come?”

“You want me to?” Han said, and then when he saw Luke thinking about the question, quickly added, “Sure, why not? Her Worshipfulness might be able to get them to shake my credits loose a little faster.”

As they passed through the ship, Han listened to the chatter around them. Most of it was about Kiamurr and Seymarti, but there was other news and gossip. A fleet of unidentified black ships had been sighted near Thedavio VII, and no one knew if they were some kind of new Imperial design or something different. The uncle of a friend on Dantooine had been in a cantina when a bunch of Imperial troops had swooped in and carried off the barkeep. The survey mission to Cerroban had run into Imperial probes, taking it off the list of possible locations for the new base.

The Rebel Alliance was built on stories as much as it was steel or hyperspace engines. What had happened on Kiamurr and Seymarti was thick in the air right now, but new events would come and wash it away. It wouldn't be long before the fact that Han could have ended the war and didn't, or that the Empire could have had its foot on the neck of the galaxy forever and he'd stopped it, were just bits of trivia, easy to forget in the press of stories that the Rebellion told about itself.

They found Leia in a meeting room off the command center. The screens around the walls were bright with schematics of the ships in the fleet, a map of the galaxy with half a dozen tiny sectors marked off in blue, and a constant feed from the sensor logs. The little red R3 unit that Hunter Maas had owned was in a corner with R2-D2, the pair of them whistling and chirping away to each other while C-3PO shifted his head back and forth between them, trying to keep track of the machine-language conversation.

Leia was wearing a simple gray jumpsuit, and her hair was pulled back. Scarlet Hark, sitting across from her, was a thousand times gaudier in a flowing gown of emerald and crimson, with her hair braided in an elaborate curve that made her seem like a human flower that had just bloomed.

“Solo!” the spy said. “I was hoping I'd see you before I left.”

“Sure,” Han said. “You're looking . . . ah . . .”

“Ridiculous, isn't it?” Scarlet said, a mad gleam in her eyes. “I'm Feyyata Baskalada, queen of the Emurrian opera on tour with the company. We're going to Surdapan Station.”

“A very dangerous place,” C-3PO said, waving a golden arm. “I have tried to warn them, but no one ever seems to listen to me.”

“Uh-huh. What's happening there?” Luke asked, visibly trying not to stare at her.

“Rumor has it that an engineer out there built a blaster that ignores deflector shields,” Scarlet said. “It's probably bantha fodder, but if it's not, I want to make sure we have it and no one else does.”

Leia frowned. “Can you sing opera?”

“No,” Scarlet said. “Not even a little bit. This should be
hilarious
.”

From the corner, Hunter Maas's R3 squealed. Scarlet stood up, her dress clinking like a crystal chandelier in a breeze.

“Thank you, R-three,” she said. “I know we're short on time.”

“Wait,” Han said. “You understand what it's saying?”

“No, but I guess well,” she said, putting out her hand. “Thanks for the ride, Captain. I hope we can work together again sometime.”

“It'll cost double,” he said, shaking her hand. “You're a pain in the behind.”

“Likewise.”

Chewbacca grunted and muttered, folding his arms across his chest. Scarlet paused in front of him, her palm on his hand.

“Me, too, sweetheart,” she said. “But I'll be in touch. When I can.”

Chewbacca swept Scarlet up in a massive hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and they stayed that way for long enough that Han started feeling a little uncomfortable. When the Wookiee put her down, Scarlet gestured to the R3 unit, and the two of them left together.

“Are you tearing up?” Han asked.

Chewbacca barked a sharp reply.

“All right,” Han said. “Just asking. No need to get hot about it.”

“We just wanted to come make sure you were doing okay,” Luke said, touching Leia's arm. “After you got back, you seemed a little . . . upset.”

Han looked up at Chewbacca and mouthed
She did?
Chewbacca rolled his eyes and nodded. Leia patted Luke's hand and sat down.

“I'll be fine. There's been a lot of fallout after Kiamurr. We lost a lot of people,” she said, and her voice had a cold tone that Han thought he might understand. “But the ones who did survive have renewed their hatred of the Empire. I've had contacts from several people and groups that I hadn't expected to hear from. We'll come out of this stronger than we went in.”

“That can only be a good thing,” C-3PO said.

“It will be if we win, Threepio,” Leia said.
And if we lose, it's just more bodies in the graveyard.
She didn't say the words, but Han understood her humorless smile. He thought of Baasen again. The least likely martyr of the Rebellion. The universe was a big place, and strange things happened there.

From the command center, Commander Ackbar's voice grated and snapped. Han didn't recognize the voices that responded.

“Any regrets?” Luke asked. From anyone else, the question would have seemed like prying. From the kid, it was too openhearted and sincere to take offense at.Leia shrugged. “Some,” she said. “But I don't know what I'd have done differently. Regret that I couldn't find a better way through than the one I found. Does that count?”

“What about you?” Luke asked, and it took Han a few seconds to realize Luke was talking to him. He opened his mouth to say no, then paused, shrugged.

“You know,” he said. “There were a bunch of critters on Seymarti who were just trying to make it through another day in their crappy little swamp. They didn't deserve what happened to them.”

Leia raised an eyebrow.

“That's your regret?” she said.

“Why not? It's a good one.”

“What about having the key to end the war in your hand and choosing to throw it away?” Leia said, her voice a little hard with sorrow. Just for a moment, he saw behind her façade. From this moment on, she would be carrying a little more of every death in the war. Every adolescent fighter pilot who got shot down by a TIE fighter, every spy who got exposed and executed in an Imperial prison, every foot soldier who fell under a stormtrooper's blaster rifle would be in part because she'd had the chance to take the power of the K'kybak and Seymarti V, and she hadn't.

It was easy to forget that she'd seen Alderaan die. She hid the guilt of surviving so well that it could blend right in with the normal pressures of commanding an army. Or leading a rebellion.

He thought back to all the things he'd said about Kiamurr. He wanted to say something comforting, but he wasn't sure what that would be. Han made do with answering the question.

“It wasn't the key to stopping the war,” he said. “It was the key to stopping anyone ever from doing something I didn't like. Stopping the war would just have been the start. And who wouldn't have done that? Who wouldn't have used it to keep some innocent people alive and stop the thugs from getting more power? Something like that, though, you can't stop once you've started.”

“Too much responsibility?” Leia asked. The barb felt almost like he'd offered her an apology. Almost like she'd accepted it.

“The responsibility's not the problem,” he said. “A galaxy without smugglers and thieves? How's that a better place? No, Your Worship, you've got to leave some room for people like me.”