The
Darsumae
was the armed freighter he used as a decoy for capturing pirates and smugglers, and he intended to transfer his command there. The Rebel ship
Gamble
was damaged and had undoubtedly taken refuge at a commercial port or station somewhere in this area of the sector. The light corvette, with its ostensible duty as a customs ship, couldn't approach a port without making every merchant ship in dock wary and panicking all the smugglers. The Rebels would be warned and have time to flee. The
Darsumae
could approach as just another freighter, and would go unnoticed until it was time to spring the trap.
He stood up from his command chair, was saluted off the bridge, and started down the length of the ship to the stern shuttle bay, his second in command, Sorvir, following him. Degoren waited until they were alone in a corridor before he said, “It's disturbing that we've had no further contact from the deep cover agent.”
“Yes, sir.” Sorvir sounded grim. “The Rebels may have realized that there's a leak in their communications.”
“If they haven't realized it, they're fools.” Degoren wished they were fools. It was hard to see the big picture from a post in the Mid Rim, but from what he could tell, the Rebels were becoming better organized, even as the Empire devoted more and more resources to pursuing them. “We can't sit around waiting on this agent's convenience. Any word from our local informants?” Degoren had independent agents at several of the local ports, though they were mostly used for tracking smugglers.
“Not yet, sir.”
Degoren grimaced. “If they want to remain employed, and alive, they need to produce results.” But he knew threats were no real incentive. “Contact them again. Let them know whoever finds evidence of the Rebels will be well rewarded. Enough to pay all their debts and buy their way out of this miserable sector.”
“Yes, sir.” Sorvir added, reluctantly, “There's always the chance that the Rebels were picked up by pirates.”
Degoren swore under his breath. He had already considered that possibility and dreaded it. “If they have, then we'll be lucky if there's anything left of them to interrogate.” It would be even worse if that scheming spider Viest got her hands on them.
The
Millennium Falcon
reached Arnot Station in record time.
The station regulations automatically downloaded to the comm system when they docked hadn't mentioned anything about no weapons, so Luke wore his belt with holstered blaster and his lightsaber, and Chewbacca carried his bowcaster.
As the
Falcon
's hatch slid open, the first thing to hit Luke was the smell. The air was filled with the scents of strange spices, stale air, ozone, and a dozen other things he couldn't identify. “I had better stay here and help Artoo guard the ship, Master Luke,” C-3PO said. The protocol droid's tone managed to convey pretty clearly that he didn't want anything to do with a run-down trading station deep in pirate territory.
“No, Threepio, I need you to translate,” Luke said patiently. He had had variations on this conversation almost everywhere he went with C-3PO; the droid was just nervous. “Artoo can guard the ship by himself.”
In the corridor, R2-D2 beeped reassuringly, then turned to trundle back up to the cockpit.
Chewbacca groaned under his breath as he tapped in the code to close and lock the hatch. He found Threepio's translations of Shyriiwook inadequate, though Luke didn't think he had any trouble making himself understood. They went down the ramp to see a bipedal figure dressed in somewhat disheveled brown knits coming toward them, carrying a datapad.
Across a broad corridor from the landing slots was a double gallery of what looked like cargo brokers and repair bays and other businesses that catered to trading ships. Humans and beings of various other species, as well as a few droids, moved along the walkways and bridges, and Luke heard a babble of voices as well as competing music from several different sources. The station looked shabby and well used, busy and cheerful, and he saw no sign of anyone in an Imperial uniform.
Beside him, Chewbacca made a comment. C-3PO translated, “He says it looks fairly promising. I don't know why he thinks that. It seems rather dingy to me.”
Chewbacca grumbled low in his throat and gave Luke a look that combined reproach and irritation. Luke sighed. “Threepio, remember, we talked about leaving out the editorial commentary.”
The person with the datapad drew near. He was very tall and thin, with light blue skin, cadaverous features, and a halo of gray hair. His craggy features and hollow cheeks made him seem daunting, but he was smiling as he approached.
Cover story prepared, Luke began, “Hello. We're new to your stationâ”
“I'm the portmaster. Are you trading? The docking fees are waived if you are trading. What are you trading?”
Luke abandoned their cover story, since the portmaster was apparently too busy to be interested. “We're not trading right now, we don't have a cargo. We're meeting our friends here. They came in on a freighter called the
Gamble
? The ship was damagedâ”
“Yes! Yes, I know it.” The portmaster tapped his datapad, rapidly filling out a docking form. “They were attacked by pirates.”
Luke nodded. “That's them.” They must have given the portmaster the story about pirates to explain the damage to the ship. “They said they were hit by pirates before they arrived here,” he improvised.
“Yes, we saw it.”
“Saw it?” Luke stared, and Chewbacca woofed in surprise. “It happened
here
?”
“I think it happened twice. Their ship was damaged when they arrived in the system, but they were not the ones fired on by the pirates. That was the merchant vessel that was captured by the second pirate ship. These pirates get worse and worse! Soon we will have no shipping at all through these routes. Or the pirates will take this station.” He looked up from the datapad and took in their baffled expressions. “You must hear the story from them yourselves. It was a terrible incident.” He held out the 'pad. “Mark the chit for your docking fee, please.”
“Uh, right.” Luke let Chewie mark the pad, and asked, “Where are they?”
“Oh, your friends? They are in slot V334, down that way.”
As the portmaster left, Luke stared at Chewbacca in consternation. “You think he was just confused about what happened?”
Chewbacca shook his head pessimistically and motioned for Luke to hurry.
They started down the docking ring, C-3PO hurrying to keep up and worrying aloud that they might be attacked by pirates at any moment. The station seemed to be cycling into its “night” shift: most of the businesses were shutting down, while the music and noise from the cantinas was growing louder. After a short walk and a brief consultation with a battered old holodirectory pedestal, they found the
Gamble
's slot.
As they came within sight of the ship, Luke said, “Wow, they weren't kidding about the damage.” The hull was blackened and dented with blast impacts, and the engine housing for the starboard sublights was slagged.
Chewie grunted agreement. C-3PO translated, “He says that that perhaps the portmaster wasn't confused about a pirate attack.”
As they approached, Luke saw engineer Sorel standing near the ramp with a couple of techs he also recognized, sorting through crates of newly delivered supplies. Sorel glanced up and spotted them, and his expression showed pure relief. “Am I glad to see you!” he said, stepping forward.
Luke wasn't surprised. Even from here, he could tell the engines were in bad shape. “We brought the
Falcon
and can take you all out of here if you can't make repairs. I guess it was too late for the Princess and General Willard to make their meeting?”
“No, well ⦔ Sorel hesitated, as if he had bad news he was reluctant to share. “The Princess isn't back yet.”
“Back from where?” Luke asked. “Is she meeting with someone on the station?”
“No, she isn't on the station.”
“What?” Luke stared. “Where is she? Where's Han? Is he with her?” Chewbacca punctuated that with a loud inquiry of his own, which Luke didn't need C-3PO to translate.
“They went off with an Alderaanian pirate ship.” At their expressions, Sorel added, “You'd better come in and see General Willard.”
The
Gamble
still bore signs of the battle, though the hasty repairs were evident everywhere in dismantled panels and scorched consoles, and the crew looked tired. Everyone seemed very relieved to see Luke and Chewbacca, though they had clearly been expecting a contact from the fleet to arrive at some point.
Willard, waiting for them in a small ready room, didn't look well. His temple was badly bruised, and his eyes were sunken. He said, “You don't know how good it is to see you.”
Luke managed to say fairly calmly, “General, Sorel said Han and the Princess went off with pirates?” He found it impossible to believe, but he couldn't imagine why the engineer would have said it if it weren't true.
The general nodded. “I need you to go after them. Sit down, and I'll explain.”
Once they were seated, General Willard quickly told them the story, while Luke did his best to keep quiet and Chewbacca kept shaking his head and groaning. When Willard was finished, Luke burst out, “But do we have any idea where they went?”
“That's what I asked the station officials.” The general took a data card out of his pocket. “They gave me these coordinates. They believe the pirates have some kind of base in this system. They've heard rumors of it for years, but no one they know of has ever seen it.” His expression was bleak. “It's the only lead we have.”
Luke took the data card. “Will you be all right here while we look into it? Our mission was to get all of you out of here and back to the fleet.” He wanted to start after Leia and Han immediately, but he wasn't sure about leaving the
Gamble
's crew here. Especially when he and Chewie had no idea how long it would take to pick up the pirate's trail and how far it would take them.
Williard said, “This is more important. And now that we've gotten medical attention for the wounded and the supplies we need to repair the hyperdrive. We should be able to get out of here on our own power in a few more days.”
Luke pushed to his feet. “We'll send a message as soon as we find them.”
“To me, not to the fleet command,” Willard reminded him. “Until we discover who leaked the information about this mission, I don't want any hint of this getting out.”
Chewbacca had gotten to his feet and slung his bowcaster over his shoulder. He eyed General Willard and made a comment to Luke. C-3PO translated, “Chewbacca asks if General Willard means to exclude General Madine from our communications?”
Chewbacca grumbled in annoyance, and Luke winced. He was fairly certain what Chewbacca had said had been a good deal more succinct and probably a little rude.
“If it's someone in our communications chain, they may have a way to break into Madine's secure frequency,” Willard said. “Until I find out where Leia is, I don't want to take the chance.”
“Right,” Luke said. “We'll find them.” He hoped he managed to sound confident, not desperate. What he felt was mostly desperate.
Luke and Chewbacca hurried down the docking ring back toward the
Falcon.
Most of the brokers and repair bays were quiet and dark, but the bars were roaring with activity. There were only a few other people out on the walkways, and the droids they saw were mostly maintenance bots. Luke kept an eye out for dock thieves, but mostly his thoughts were on what it would be like to lose Leia and Han.
His first few months in the Alliance, most of the people Luke had met had either dismissed him as a farmboy recruit or expected him to be an instant Jedi, as if all it required was ownership of a lightsaber. Han was one of the few people who accepted Luke for who he was, who didn't expect him to be anything else.
Not that it had been easy to get to that point, even after everything they had gone through together on the Death Star. But it had occurred to Luke that someone who frequented places like Mos Eisley couldn't afford the luxury of easy trust. Han's attitude had reminded Luke of a pet anooba that his friend Biggs Darklighter had had as a kid. It had been half wild and abused by a former owner, and it had taken months of kind treatment before it had stopped snapping at everyone, before it decided it was safe in the Darklighter household. Luke had never thought Han would take kindly to the analogy, though, so he had kept it to himself.
But Luke had felt an instant bond with Leia. He could talk to her about anything. About his guilt over abandoning the farm on Tatooine after all the years of work his aunt and uncle had put into it, all for nothing now, their time there wasted. His hopes and his doubts about the Force, about whether he would ever be able to get the training and knowledge he needed to really use it. She had confided in him, too, but he always felt there was a wealth of things she just couldn't say. It was still hard for her to talk about Alderaan, as if letting out all that pain would open a door she couldn't close.
It worried him that these Alderaanian pirates might have found a way to play on that.
When they were almost to the
Falcon,
passing an empty docking slip, he said as much. Chewbacca snorted and rumbled a comment. “He says the pirates don't know what they're up against,” C-3PO translated. “He says that he would sooner fight a pack of nightcrawlers than Leia in a mood and Han there to help her. And I agree, Master Luke,” the droid finished, and for once Chewbacca didn't protest the addendum.
Luke started to reply when a green-skinned male Duros stepped out from behind the half-closed blast door of an empty shopfront. Luke had always had trouble reading Duros; they had no noses, lipless mouths, and elongated red eyes, and he had never gotten to know any well enough pick up on the nuances of their expressions. But this one's intentions were clear: he was pointing a blaster at them. “Keep your hands where I can see them, and come with me,” the Duros said.
Luke lifted his hands. Nobody was on the business gallery across from the
Falcon
's slip, though the distant blare of music and voices told him that there was a well-occupied drinking establishment nearby. “Just the one of you?” he asked as casually as he could.
Chewbacca grunted, and C-3PO translated anxiously, “He says there is another one in the shop, and another across the docking corridor there behind that pillar.”
“I'm impressed,” the Duros said, still calm. “Now move.”
Luke figured that would be a very bad idea. “I don't think so.”
“Move, or I'll kill the Wookiee,” the Duros said. “I only need one of you.”
“You should have tried this farther down the dock,” Luke said. He had seen the stealthy mechanical movement in the dark beneath the
Falcon.
The Ax-108, the small antipersonnel blaster cannon, had dropped out of its concealed compartment in the
Falcon
's hull and now pointed at them. R2-D2 had clearly seen the altercation. “Because our ship has you covered.”
Chewie barked a laugh. The Duros studied Luke's face, then took a step back and looked toward the
Falcon.
The cannon fired once, the blast impact striking the floor plates a meter away from the man's feet. Chewie twitched the bowcaster off his shoulder and fired into the control plate next to the shop's blast door, shutting the door on whoever was inside. Luke drew his blaster, but a burst of fire from the lookout across the walkway sent him diving sideways. He hit the deck and rolled, pointing his blaster, but the Duros had ducked back and aimed his weapon straight at Luke.
Chewie had the Duros in his bowcaster's sights, and Luke was fairly sure the lookout was aiming at Chewie. From what he could hear, the reinforcement in the shop was blasting a way out through the back door. But the station alarm wailed, and yells and pounding footsteps sounded from the gallery. To add to that, C-3PO was running awkwardly down the walkway, shouting, “Help! We're being robbed! Help!”