STAR WARS: SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE

Steve Perry

Prologue

He looks like a walking corpse, Xizor thought. Like a

mummified body dead a thousand years. Amazing he is

still alive, much less the most powerful man in the galaxy.

He isn't even that old; it is more as if something is

slowly eating him.

Xizor stood four meters away from the Emperor,

watching as the man who had long ago been Senator

Palpatine moved to stand in the holocam field. He

imagined he could smell the decay in the Emperor's

worn body. Likely that was just some trick of the recycled

air, run through dozens of filters to ensure that

there was no chance of any poison gas being introduced

into it. Filtered the life out of it, perhaps, giving

it that dead smell.

The viewer on the other end of the holo-link would

see a close-up of the Emperor's head and shoulders, of

an age-ravaged face shrouded in the cowl of his dark

zeyd-cloth robe. The man on the other end of the transmission,

light-years away, would not see Xizor, though

2 S TAR WARS

Xizor would be able to see him. It was a measure of the

Emperor's trust that Xizor was allowed to be here

while the conversation took place.

The man on the other end of the transmission—if he

could still be called that—

The air swirled inside the Imperial chamber in front

of the Emperor, coalesced, and blossomed into the image

of a figure down on one knee. A caped humanoid

biped dressed in jet black, face hidden under a full helmet

and breathing mask:

Darth Vader.

Vader spoke: "What is thy bidding, my master?"

If Xizor could have hurled a power bolt through

time and space to strike Vader dead, he would have

done it without blinking. Wishful thinking: Vader was

too powerful to attack directly.

"There is a great disturbance in the Force," the Emperor

said.

"I have felt it," Vader said.

"We have a new enemy. Luke Skywalker."

Skywalker? That had been Vader's name, a long

time ago. Who was this person with the same name,

someone so powerful as to be worth a conversation

between the Emperor and his most loathsome creation?

More importantly, why had Xizor's agents not uncovered

this before now? Xizor's ire was instant—but cold.

No sign of his surprise or anger would show on his

imperturbable features. The Falleen did not allow their

emotions to burst forth as did many of the inferior species;

no, the Falleen ancestry was not fur but scales, not

mammalian but reptilian. Not wild but coolly calculating.

Such was much better. Much safer.

"Yes, my master," Vader continued.

"He could destroy us," the Emperor said.

Xizor's attention was riveted upon the Emperor and

the holographic image of Vader kneeling on the deck of

a ship far away. Here was interesting news indeed.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 3

Something the Emperor perceived as a danger to himself?

Something the Emperor feared?

"He's just a boy," Vader said, "Obi-Wan can no

longer help him."

Obi-Wan. That name Xizor knew. He was among

the last of the Jedi Knights, a general. But he'd been

dead for decades, hadn't he?

Apparently Xizor's information was wrong if Obi-

Wan had been helping someone who was still a boy.

His agents were going to be sorry.

Even as Xizor took in the distant image of Vader

and the nearness of the Emperor, even as he was aware

of the luxury of the Emperor's private and protected

chamber at the core of the giant pyramidal palace, he

was also able to make a mental note to himself: Somebody's

head would roll for the failure to make him

aware of all this. Knowledge was power; lack of

knowledge was weakness. This was something he could

not permit.

The Emperor continued. "The Force is strong with

him. The son of Skywalker must not become a Jedi."

Son of Skywalker?

Vader's son! Amazing!

"If he could be turned he would become a powerful

ally," Vader said.

There was something in Vader's voice when he said

this, something Xizor could not quite put his finger on.

Longing? Worry?

Hope?

"Yes . . . yes. He would be a great asset," the Emperor

said. "Can it be done?"

There was the briefest of pauses. "He will join us or

die, Master."

Xizor felt the smile, though he did not allow it to

show any more than he had allowed his anger play. Ah.

Vader wanted Skywalker alive, that was what had been

in his tone. Yes, he had said that the boy would join

them or die, but this latter part was obviously meant

4 STAR WARS

only to placate the Emperor. Vader had no intention of

killing Skywalker, his own son; that was obvious to

one as skilled in reading voices as was Xizor. He had

not gotten to be the Dark Prince, Underlord of Black

Sun, the largest criminal organization in the galaxy,

merely on his formidable good looks. Xizor didn't truly

understand the Force that sustained the Emperor and

made him and Vader so powerful, save to know that it

certainly worked somehow. But he did know that it

was something the extinct Jedi had supposedly mastered.

And now, apparently, this new player had

tapped into it. Vader wanted Skywalker alive, had

practically promised the Emperor that he would deliver

him alive—and converted.

This was most interesting.

Most interesting indeed.

The Emperor finished his communication and turned

back to face him. "Now, where were we, Prince

Xizor?"

The Dark Prince smiled. He would attend to the

business at hand, but he would not forget the name of

Luke Skywalker.

1

Chewbacca roared his rage. A stormtrooper grabbed at

him and he knocked the man flying, armor clattering as he

fell into the pit. Two more guards came in, and the

Wookiee battered them both aside as if they were nothing,

a child tossing dolls around—

In another second one of Vader's troops would

shoot Chewie. He was big and strong, but he couldn't

win; they'd cut him down—

Han started yelling at the Wookiee, calming him.

Leia stared, unable to move, unable to believe this

was happening.

Han kept talking: "Chewie, there'll be another time!

The princess, you have to take care of her. D'you hear

me? Huh?"

They were in a dank chamber in the bowels of

Cloud City on Bespin, where Han's so-called friend

Lando Calrissian had betrayed them to Darth Vader.

The scene was bathed in a buttery golden light that

made it seem even more surreal. Chewbacca blinked at

6 S T A R WARS

Han, the half-assembled droid Threepio jutting from a

sack on the Wookiee's back. The traitor Calrissian

stood off to one side like some feral creature. There

were more guards, techs, bounty hunters. Vader and

the stink of liquid carbonite permeated the air around

them all, a smell of morgues and graves combined.

More guards moved in, to put cuffs on Chewie. The

Wookiee nodded, calmer. Yes, he understood Han. He

didn't like it, but he understood. He allowed the guards

to cuff him—

Han and Leia looked at each other. This can't be

happening, she thought. Not now.

The emotion took them; neither could resist it. They

came together like magnets, held each other. They embraced,

kissed, full of fire and hope—full of ashes and

despair—

Two stormtroopers jerked Han away, backed him

onto the liftplate over the makeshift freezing chamber.

The words erupted from Leia unbidden, uncontrollable,

lava blasted from a volcanic explosion: "I love

you!"

And Han, brave, strong Han, nodded at her. "I

know."

The Ugnaught techs, not much more than half Han's

height, moved in, unbound his hands, stepped away.

Han looked at the techs, then at Leia again. The liftplate

sank, lowered him into the pit. He locked his gaze

with Leia's, held it, held it . . . until the cloud of

freezing vapor boiled up and blocked their view—

Chewie yelled; Leia didn't understand his speech,

but she understood his rage, his grief, his feeling of

helplessness.

Han!

Stinking, acrid gas spewed up and rolled over them,

an icy fog, a roiling soul-chilling smoke through which

Leia saw Vader watching it all under his inscrutable

mask. She heard Threepio sputter, "What—What's going

on? Turn 'round! Chewbacca, I can't see!"

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 7

Han!

Oh, Han!

Leia sat up abruptly, her pulse racing. The sheets

were sweaty and wadded around her, her night garment

damp. She sighed, swung her legs over the side of

the bed, and sat staring at the wall. The chronometer

inset showed her it was three hours past midnight. The

air in the room smelled stale. Outside, she knew, the

Tatooine night would be chilly, and she considered

opening a vent to allow some of that coolness inside.

At the moment, it seemed too much effort to bother.

A bad dream, she thought. That's all it was.

But—no. She couldn't pretend it had been only a

nightmare. It had been more than that. It was a memory.

It had happened. The man she loved was embedded

in a block of carbonite, had been hauled away like

a crate of cargo by a bounty hunter. Lost to her, somewhere

in the vastness of the galaxy.

She felt the emotions well, felt them threaten to spill

out in tears, but she fought it. She was Leia Organa,

Princess of the Royal Family of Alderaan, elected to the

Imperial Senate, a worker in the Alliance to Restore the

Republic. Alderaan was gone, destroyed by Vader and

the Death Star; the Imperial Senate was disbanded; the

Alliance was outmanned and outgunned ten thousand

to one, but she was who she was. She would not cry.

She would not cry.

She would get even,

Three hours past midnight, and half the planet slept.

Luke Skywalker stood barefoot on the steelcrete

platform sixty meters above the sand, looking at the

taut wire. He wore plain black pants and shirt and a

black leather belt. He no longer had a lightsaber,

though he'd started constructing another one, using the

8 STAR WARS

plans he'd found in an old leather-bound book at Ben

Kenobi's. It was a traditional exercise for a Jedi, so

he'd been told. It had given him something to do while

his new hand had finished final bonding to his arm. It

had kept him from thinking too much.

The lights under the canopy were dim; he could

barely see the stranded-steel line. The carnival was

done for the night, the acrobats and dewbacks and jesters

long asleep. The crowds had gone home, and he

was alone; alone here with the tightrope. It was quiet,

the only sound the creak of the syn tent fabric as it

cooled in the arms of the Tatooine summer night. The

hot desert day gave up its heat quickly, and it was cold

enough outside the tent to need a jacket. The smell of

the dewbacks drifted up to where he perched, and mingled

with that of his own sweat.

A guard whose mind had accepted Luke's mental

command to allow him inside the giant tent stood

watch at the entrance, blind now to his presence. A Jedi

skill, that kind of control, but another one he had only

begun to learn.

Luke took a deep breath, let it out slowly. There was

no net below, and a fall from this height would surely

be fatal. He didn't have to do this. Nobody was going

to make him take the walk.

Nobody but himself.

He calmed his breathing, his heartbeat, and, as

much as possible, his mind, using the method he had

learned. First Ben, then Master Yoda had taught him

the ancient arts. Yoda's exercises had been the more

rigorous and exhausting, but unfortunately, Luke had

not finished his schooling. There really hadn't been any

choice at the time. Han and Leia had been in deadly

danger, and he'd had to go to them. Because he had

gone, they were alive, but . . .

That hadn't turned out well.

No. Not at all.

And there had been the meeting with Vader . . .

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 9

He felt his face tighten, his jaw muscles dance, and

he fought the anger that surged up in him like a hormonal

tide as black as the clothes he wore. His wrist

ached suddenly where Vader's lightsaber had sliced

through it. The new hand was as good as the old, better,

maybe, but sometimes when he thought about Vader,

it throbbed. Phantom limb pain, the medics had

said. Not real.

"I'm your father."

No! That couldn't be real, either! His father had

been Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi.

If only he could talk to Ben. Or to Yoda. They

would confirm it. They would tell him the truth. Vader

had tried to manipulate him, had tried to throw him off

balance, that was all.

But—what if it was true . . . ?

No. Leave it. It wouldn't help to dwell on that now.

He wasn't going to be able to do anybody any good

unless he mastered his Jedi skills. He had to trust in the

Force and move on. No matter what lies Vader had

spewed. There was a war on, much to do, and while he

was a good pilot, he was supposed to have more to

offer to the Alliance.

It wasn't easy, and it didn't seem to be getting any

easier. He wished he felt sure of himself, but the fact

was, he didn't. He felt as if a weight were riding on

him, more than he'd ever thought possible. A few years

ago, he'd been a farm boy, working with Uncle Owen,

going nowhere. Now there was Han, the Empire, the

Alliance, Vader—

No. Not now. That's in the past and in the future,

this wire is the now. Concentrate or you're going to fall

off it.

He reached for the energy, felt the flux begin to

flow. It was bright and warm and life-giving, and he

called it to himself, sought to wrap it around his form

like a suit of armor.

10 S TAR WARS

The Force: Once again, it was there for him.

Yes . . .

But there was something else there, too. In a place

that was removed but somehow right next to him, he

felt that pull he had been told about. A hard, powerful

coldness, the opposite of what his teachers had presented

to him. The antithesis of light. That which Vader

embraced.

The dark side.

No! He pushed it away. Refused to look at it. Took

another deep breath. Felt the Force permeate him, felt

it attune itself to him. Or maybe it was the other way

around. It didn't matter.

When they were one, he started to walk.

The high wire suddenly seemed as wide as a public

sidewalk. It was natural, the Force, but this part always

felt like magic, as if he could do miracles using it. He'd

seen Yoda raise the X-wing from the swamp using his

mind. It was possible to do things that might look like

miracles.

As he lifted his foot to take another step, he remembered

other things about his time on Dagobah.

Under the soft, damp ground, in the cave . . .

Darth Vader came toward him.

Vader! Here! How could that be?

Luke pulled his lightsaber, lit it, brought it up. The

gleaming blue white of his blade met Vader's reddish

beam as they crossed in on-guard salute. The power

hum and energy crackle grew louder.

Suddenly Vader swung, a powerful cut at Luke's left

side—

Luke jerked his blade up and over, dropped the

point, blocked the slash; it hit so hard it vibrated him,

nearly tore his lightsaber from his grip—

He smelled the mold around him, heard the power

hum of the lightsabers, saw Vader with a crystal clarity.

All his senses came to life, as sharp as they'd ever been,

sharp as a warehouse full of vibro-shivs—

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 11

Vader cut again, now at Luke's head, and Luke's

panicked overhead block barely stopped it, barely—he

was so strong!

Again Vader chopped at him, a blow that would

have cut Luke in half had he not jammed his own

weapon out, just in time!

Vader was too strong for him, Luke knew. Only his

anger could save him from being killed. He remembered

Ben, remembered Vader hacking him down—

Unthinking rage drove him. Luke whipped his blade

around backhanded, all of his arm and shoulder and

wrists behind it, and—

The cut took Vader's head off.

Time seemed to drag like some heavy anchor. He

stared. Vader's body dropped, oh-so-slowly . . . and

the severed head fell to the ground and rolled.

Rolled. Then stopped. There was no blood—

There came a bright flash, a sudden blast of light

and purple smoke, and the mask covering Vader's face

shattered, shattered and vanished, revealing, revealing—

The face of Luke Skywalker.

No!

The insurgent memory had flashed by much faster

than the events had actually taken. He had moved but

a single step in reality. Amazing what one's mind could

do. Even so, he nearly fell from the wire as he lost

contact with the Force.

Stop this! he told himself.

He took a deep breath, balanced uneasily, reached

for the Force again.

There, he had it. He steadied, started walking, one

with the Force again, flowing.

Halfway across the wire, he started to run. He told

himself it was part of the test. He told himself that the

Force was with him and he could live up to his name

without fear, that anything was possible to one trained

12 S TAR WARS

as a Jedi Knight. It was what he had been taught. He

wanted to believe it.

He didn't want to believe that he ran because he

could feel the dark side walking the wire behind him,

catfooted and evil, following him. Following like the

memory of his face on Vader's severed head, following

and—

—and gaining . . .

Xizor leaned back in his form-chair. The chair, which

had a bad circuit he kept meaning to have repaired,

took this move as an inquiry. Its voxchip said, "What

is your wish, Prince Sheeezor?" It slurred his name,

dragging out the first syllable. He shook his head.

"Nothing save that you be silent," he said.

The chair's vox shut up. The machineries within the

cloned leather seat hummed and adjusted the support

to Xizor's new position. He sighed. He was rich beyond

the income of many entire planets, and he had a

malfunctioning form-chair that couldn't even pronounce

his name correctly. He made a note to have it

replaced, now, today, immediately, as soon as he was

finished with his business here this morning.

He looked at the one-sixth-scale holoproj frozen in

front of him, then up at the woman standing across the

desk. She was as beautiful, if not as ethnic, as the two

Epicanthix women fighters in the holograph between

them. But her beauty was of a different order. She had

long and silky blond hair, pale and clear blue eyes, an

exquisite figure. Normal human males would find her

attractive. There were no flaws in Guri's face or form,

but there was a coolness about her, and that was easily

explained if you knew the reason: Guri was an HRD, a

human replica droid, and unique. She could visually

pass for a woman anywhere in the galaxy, could eat,

drink, and perform all of the more personal functions

of a woman without anybody the wiser. And she was

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 13

the only one of her kind programmed to be an assassin.

She could kill without raising her ersatz heartbeat,

never a qualm of conscience.

She'd cost him nine million credits.

Xizor steepled his fingers and raised an eyebrow at

Guri.

"The Pike sisters," Guri said, glancing at the holo.

"Genetic twins, not clones. The one on the right is Zan,

the other is Zu. Zan has green eyes, Zu has one green

and one blue eye, the only noticeable difference. They

are masters of teras kasi, the Bunduki art called 'steel

hands.' Twenty-six standard years old, no political affiliations,

no criminal records in any of the major systems,

and, as far as we are able to determine,

completely amoral. They are for hire to the highest bidder,

and they have never worked for Black Sun. They

have also never been defeated in open combat. This"—

she nodded at the unmoving holoproj image again—"is

what they do for fun when they aren't working."

Guri's voice was, in contrast to her appearance, warm,

inviting, a rich alto. She activated the hologram.

Xizor smiled, revealing his own perfect teeth. The

holo had shown the two women mopping the floor

with eight Imperial stormtroopers in some rat's nest of

a spaceport bar. The soldiers had been big, strong, well

trained, and armed. The women weren't even breathing

hard when they finished. "They'll do," he said. "Make

it happen."

Guri nodded once, turned, and left. She looked as

good from behind as she did from the front.

Nine million and worth every decicred. He wished

he had a dozen more like her. Unfortunately, her creator

was no longer among the living. A pity.

So. Two more handpicked assassins now under his

command. Assassins with no ties to Black Sun, not before

and, with Guri's expert manipulation, not ever.

Xizor glanced up at the ceiling. He'd had the pattern

of the galaxy installed into the glowtiles. When the

14 S TAR WARS

lights were dim—and they usually were—he had an

edge-on view of the home galaxy floating holographically

there, with more than a million individual glowing

dust-small stars hand-drawn in it. It had taken the

artist three months and had cost a warlord's ransom,

but the Dark Prince could not spend what he already

had even if he tried hard, and more than that kept

flowing in all the time. Credits were nothing; he had

billions. A way of keeping score, that was all. Not important.

He looked at the holograph again. Beautiful and

deadly, these two, a combination he enjoyed. He himself

was of the Falleen, a species whose distant ancestors

had been reptilian, and who had evolved into what

was generally considered the most beautiful of all humanoid

species. He was over a hundred years old, but

he looked thirty. He was tall, had a topknot ponytail

jutting up from his otherwise bald head and a hard

body crafted by stim units. He also exuded natural

pheromones that made most of the human-stock species

feel instantly attracted to him, and his skin color,

normally a dusky green, changed with the rise of those

pheromones, shading from the cool into the warm

spectrum. His handsomeness and appeal were tools,

nothing more. He was the Dark Prince, Underlord of

Black Sun, one of the three most powerful men in the

galaxy. He could also kick a sunfruit off the top of a

tall humanoid's head without a warm-up stretch, and

he could lift twice his own weight over his head using

only his own muscles. He could claim a sound—if admittedly

devious—mind in a sound body.

His galactic influence was surpassed only by the Emperor

and the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader.

He smiled at the image before him again. Third—

but about to become second, if his plans went as intended.

It had been months since he'd overheard the

Emperor and Vader talking of a threat they'd per-

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 15

ceived, months, and now the preliminaries were done.

Xizor was ready to move in earnest.

"Time?" he said.

His room computer answered and gave it to him.

Ah. Only an hour remained before his meeting. It

was but a short walk through the protected corridors

to Vader's, not much beyond where the Emperor's massive

gray-green stone and mirror-crystal palace thrust

itself up into the high atmosphere. A few kilometers, no

more; a brisk stroll would put him there in a few minutes.

No hurry. He did not want to arrive early.

A chime announced a visitor.

"Enter," Xizor said. His bodyguards were not here,

but there was no need for them in his sanctum—no one

could penetrate its defenses. And only a few of his underlings

had the right to visit him here, all of them

loyal. As loyal as fear could make them.

One of his sublieutenants, Mayth Duvel, came in

and bowed low. "My prince Xizor."

"Yes?"

"I have a petition from the Nezriti Organization.

They wish an alliance with Black Sun."

Xizor gave Duvel a measured smile. "I'm sure they

do."

Duvel produced a small package. "They offer a token

of their esteem."

Xizor took the package, thumbed it open. Inside was

a gem. It was an oval-cut, bloodred Tumanian pressure-

ruby, a very rare stone, apparently flawless, and

easily worth several million credits. The Dark Prince

held it up, turned it in his fingers, nodded. Then he

tossed it onto his desktop. It bounced once, slid to a

stop next to his drinking cup. If it had fallen onto the

floor, he would not have bent to retrieve it, and if the

cleaning droid came in later and sucked it up, well, so

what? "Tell them we'll consider it."

Duvel bowed and backed away.

When he was gone, Xizor stood, stretched his neck

16 S TAR WARS

and back. The evolved reptilian ridge over his spine

elevated slightly, felt sharp against his fingertips as he

rubbed it. There were other applicants waiting to see

him, and ordinarily he would sit and attend to their

petitions, but not today. Now it was time to go and see

Vader. By going there instead of insisting that Vader

come here, he was giving away an advantage, appearing

to be himself a supplicant. No matter. That was

part of it; there must not seem to be any contention

between them. No one must suspect that he felt anything

but the greatest respect for the Dark Lord of the

Sith, not if his plans were going to succeed. And succeed

they would, he did not doubt it.

Because they always did

2

Leia sat in a bad cantina in the bad part of Mos Eisley.

You really had to work at it to earn both of those

low distinctions. Calling this place a dive would have

elevated it four notches. The table was expanded metal,

aluminum plate turned into a cheap and easy-to-clean

mesh—probably they used a high-pressure solvent hose

to wash everything into that drain in the middle of a

sunken spot over there in the floor. If they opened the

door to the arid outside, it would dry in a hurry. The

cup of whatever vile brew it was she had in front of her

was certainly losing more liquid to evaporation than to

her drinking from it. The air refreshing system must

have had a bad circuit—the place was hot, the desert

air outside seeping in along with the gutter scum who

came to hang out here. It smelled like a bantha stable

in the hot summer, and the only good thing about the

place was that the light was dim enough so she didn't

have to look too closely at the patrons—from a dozen

18 S TAR WARS

different species and none of them particularly savorylooking

examples at that.

Lando must have done it on purpose, picking this pit

in which to meet, just to get a rise out of her. Well.

When he finally arrived, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

For a time, she'd hated him, until she understood

his apparent betrayal of Han had only been a

ruse to help save them from Vader. Lando had given up

a lot for that, and they all owed him for it.

Still, this wasn't a bar she would have gone into

without a good reason—a very good reason—and not a

place she would have gone alone, despite her protests

that she didn't need a bodyguard. But need one or not,

she had one—Chewbacca sat next to her, glowering at

the assorted patrons. The only reason Chewie had left

her with Luke after the last encounter with Vader was

to go with Lando to Tatooine to set up Han's rescue.

Once Leia had arrived, Chewie had stayed as close to

her as part of her wardrobe. It was irritating.

Lando had explained it: "Chewie owes Han a life

debt. That's a big deal among Wookiees. Han told him

to take care of you. Until Han tells him otherwise,

that's what he's going to do."

Leia had tried to be firm. She told Chewie, "I appreciate

it, but you don't have to."

It was no use, Lando told her. As long as he was

alive, Chewbacca was going to be with her, and that

was that. She didn't even speak Wookiee, save for a

couple of swear words she thought she recognized, but

Lando had smiled and told her she might as well get

used to it.

She almost had, after a fashion. Chewie could understand

a number of languages, and while he couldn't

speak them, he could usually make known what he

wanted somebody to know.

Leia liked Chewie okay, but here was another reason

to find and free Han—so he could call the Wookiee

off.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 19

Then again, even though she would never admit it,

there were times when having a two-meter-tall

Wookiee around was useful. Such as in this wonderful

place.

During the last hour, she'd had to look a little closer

at several of the patrons than she liked. Despite the fact

that she wore old and threadbare freight handler's coveralls

spotted and stained with lube, had her hair

wound into a tight and unattractive bun, and did not

meet anyone's gaze, there had been a steady parade of

various humans and aliens to her table, trying to pick

her up—also despite the fact that a fully grown and

armed Wookiee sat at the same table.

Males. Didn't seem to matter what species they were

when they wanted female company. And it didn't seem

to matter what species the female was, either.

Chewie made it clear they weren't welcome, and between

his size and bowcaster, nobody much wanted to

argue the point. But new ones kept coming.

Chewie growled at a bulbous-headed Bith who

banged into the table. The alien, whose species was

normally well behaved and peaceful, had obviously had

way too much to drink, if he would even think it possible

that he and Leia could find anything in common.

The Bith looked at Chewie's bared teeth, hiccuped,

then tottered off.

Leia said, "Look, I appreciate your help, but I can

handle these guys."

Chewie turned his head to one side and regarded

her, a gesture she was coming to realize meant skepticism

and amusement mixed about equally.

She took it as a challenge. "Hey, next time somebody

comes over, just watch me. You can do it without

threats, you know."

It didn't take long. The next pest in the rotation was

a Devaronian, a horned humanoid who—surprise—

wanted to buy Leia a drink.

"Thank you, but I'm waiting for somebody."

20 S TAR WARS

The Devaronian said, "Well, why don't I keep you

company until they get here? Perhaps they were delayed?

It might be a long wait."

"Thank you, but I have company." She nodded at

Chewie.

The alien ignored the gesture and, since the Wookiee

didn't speak or point his weapon, kept right on talking.

"I'm really quite pleasant to have around, you

know. Many fems have thought so. Many." He leered

at her, his pointed teeth looking particularly white

against his red lips. Shot his tongue out and sucked it

back in; it was as long as her forearm.

Spare me, Leia thought. So much for the easy way.

"No. Go away."

"You don't know what you are missing, little one."

His leer grew wider, making him look more demonic.

She glanced at Chewie, who was about to start

laughing, she could tell. She glared at the Devaronian.

"I'll try to get over it. Leave."

"Just one drink. And I can show you my Weranian

holocards; they are very, ah . . . stimulating."

He started to sit across from her.

Leia pulled the small blaster she had tucked into her

coverall pocket, brought it out over the table where the

Devaronian could see it. She pointed it at the ceiling

and thumbed the power setting button from "stun" to

"kill."

He saw that, too.

Very quickly he said, "Ah, well, perhaps another

time. I, ah, just recalled that, ah, I left the converter

charging on my ship. You'll excuse me."

He hurried away. Amazing what waving a blaster

under an obnoxious would-be suitor's nose would do

to improve his manners.

Chewie did laugh now. Said something, and she had

a pretty good idea of what it meant.

"Nobody likes an obnoxious Wookiee," she said.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 21

But she smiled. That point went to Chewie, and she

was woman enough to admit it.

She put the safety on and tucked the blaster away.

Fiddled with the stir stick in her drink. Lando was going

to pay for calling the meeting in this hole. Somehow.

Somebody opened the door and a flash of hot light

spilled into the dank bar. Outlined in the doorway was

a human who, for just a second, reminded her of Han.

Han.

She felt the grief start to well in her again, and she

shook her head, as if that could stop the emotions from

flowing. The last time she had seen Han Solo, he had

been frozen in a block of carbonite. The last thing he

had said to her was an answer: "I know."

Leia sighed. She hadn't really known until that moment

that she loved him. When she saw Vader order

him lowered into the freezing chamber, when she knew

there was a chance he might not come out alive, she'd

had to say it. It had come out of her unbidden, it had

seemed as if the words had been spoken by another

woman. It had been so . . . unreal.

But she couldn't deny it. Not then, not now. She did

love him, pirate and rogue that he was. There was no

help for it.

That feeling scared her more than anything she

could think of. More than when she'd been in Vader's

hands on the Death Star, more than when it seemed

half the Imperial Army and Navy had been after

them—

"Buy you a drink, beautiful?" somebody said from

behind her.

Leia turned. It was Lando. She was angry at him,

but glad to see him, too. "How'd you get in here?"

"Back door," Lando said. He smiled. He was a

handsome man—tall, dark-skinned, a thin mustache

above those shiny white teeth—and he knew it, too.

Behind him were the droids R2-D2 and C-3PO.

22 S TAR W A R S

Artoo's dome swiveled as the droid took in the bar,

and Threepio, the most skittish droid Leia had ever

been around, managed to look nervous even though he

could not change his facial expression.

Artoo whistled.

"Yes, I see that," Threepio said. A short pause.

"Master Lando, wouldn't it be better if we waited outside?

I don't think they like droids in this place. We're

the only ones here."

Lando smiled. "Relax. Nobody is going to bother

you. I know the owner. Besides, I don't want you alone

outside. You might find this hard to believe, but this

town is full of thieves." He opened his eyes wide in

mock amazement and waved his hands to take in the

bar and the port around it. "You wouldn't want to

wind up shoveling sand on some moisture farm, now

would you?"

"Oh, dear me, no."

Leia smiled, unable to help herself. What a band of

characters she'd wound up with. Two funny droids,

Lando Calrissian the gambler, Chewbacca the

Wookiee, Luke the—

What was Luke? Halfway to becoming a Jedi, at

least. And awfully important, given how badly Darth

Vader seemed to want him. She'd heard other rumors,

too, that Vader wasn't particular how he got Luke,

alive or dead. She loved Han, but she felt something for

Luke, too.

Another complication she did not need. Why wasn't

life simpler?

And Han . . .

"I think we've got Slave I spotted," Lando said quietly.

That was Boba Fett's ship. The bounty hunter who

had taken Han from Cloud City. "What? Where?"

"A moon called Gall, circling Zhar, a gas giant out

in one of the far Rim Systems. The information is third-

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 23

hand, but the informant chain is supposed to be reliable."

"We've heard that before," she said.

Lando shrugged. "We can sit and wait or we can go

see. The bounty hunter should have delivered Han to

Jabba months ago. He's got to be someplace. I've got a

contact in that system, an old gambling buddy who

does a little, uh, freelance cargo delivery. Name is Dash

Rendar. He's checking it out for us."

Leia smiled again. "Freelance cargo delivery" was a

euphemism for "smuggling."

"You trust him?"

"Well, as long as my money holds out, yeah."

"Fine. How soon will we know?"

"A few days."

Leia looked around. "Anything would be better than

waiting here."

Lando flashed his bright smile again. "Mos Eisley is

known as the galaxy's armpit," he said. "I guess there

are worse parts of the anatomy where we could be

stuck."

Chewie said something.

Lando shook his head. "I don't know why he'd be

there. There's a shipyard on the moon; maybe he

needed repairs. Something serious had to hold him up

because Jabba won't pay him until he gets here."

Chewie said something else.

"Yeah, I'm afraid so." Lando looked at Leia. "Gall

is an Imperial Enclave. Got a couple of destroyers

based there, plus all the attendant TIE fighters. If Fett's

ship is there, it won't be easy to get to him."

"When has anything been easy since I met you?" she

said. "Let me ask you something. Of all the crummy

places in this port, why did you choose this one?"

"Well, I do know the owner. He owes me for a bet

we once made. I get to eat and drink here for free

whenever I'm in town."

24 S TAR WARS

"Oh, boy. What a thrill that must be. You ever try

to eat anything in this place?"

"I haven't been that hungry yet, no."

She shook her head. Her life had certainly been interesting

since she'd fallen in with these guys. But it

was like Lando had just said about Boba Fett: Everybody

had to be someplace.

Until they found Han, this was as good as any.

Leia said, "Maybe we better go tell Luke."

Xizor left his four bodyguards in the antechamber

and went into Darth Vader's personal meeting room.

The guards were trained in half a dozen forms of handto-

hand combat, each armed with a blaster and each an

expert shot; still, if Vader wanted to harm him, it

wouldn't matter if he took four or forty men with him.

The mysterious Force would let Vader block a fired

blaster bolt with his lightsaber or his hands, and he

could kill with a gesture, could freeze your lungs or

stop your heart, just like that. It was a lesson many had

learned the hard way: One did not stand toe-to-toe

with Darth Vader and challenge him directly.

Fortunately, Xizor enjoyed the Emperor's patronage.

As long as that was the case, Vader would not dare

harm him.

The room was spare. A long table of polished, dark

greel wood, several nonreactive chairs made from the

same kind of wood, a holoplate and viewer. A faint

tang of something spicy hung in the air. There were no

pictures on the walls, no conspicuous signs of the

wealth Vader commanded. He was nearly as rich as

Xizor and, like the Dark Prince, cared little for wealth

itself.

Xizor pulled one of the chairs away from the table

and sat, allowing himself to appear completely relaxed,

legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back. Somewhere

in Vader's castle monitoring technicians would

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 25

be watching every move he made, recording it all.

Xizor knew that Vader's spies followed him everywhere

he went, on- or offplanet; here in the dark heart of the

serpent's nest itself, there could be no doubt that his

slightest gesture would be watched and analyzed. If Vader

wished it, he could likely know how much air

Xizor breathed, the volume, weight, and composition

of that air, the percent of carbon dioxide in the residue.

Xizor allowed himself a tight grin. Give the techs

something to think about: Uh-oh, he's smiling—what

do you suppose that means?

Of course, he had Vader under constant surveillance,

too, every time he set foot outside his castle. On Coruscant—

yes, it had been renamed the Imperial Center,

but Xizor did not care for the new name—virtually everyone

of any importance had his or her own spynet

keeping track of all the other people of importance. It

was necessary. And Black Sun's spynet was second to

none, not even the Empire's own. Well. Perhaps the

Bothans were slightly better . . .

The wall at the opposite end of the room slid aside

silently, and Vader stood there, quite dramatic in his

cape and black uniform, his breathing audible inside

the armored helmet and mask.

Xizor stood, offered a military bow. "Lord Vader."

"Prince Xizor," Vader offered in return. No bow—

he bent the knee only to the Emperor—but Xizor did

not acknowledge the small breach of etiquette. This

was all being recorded. The recording might find its

way before the Emperor—in fact, Xizor would be

greatly surprised if it did not come under the Emperor's

scrutiny; the old man was not one to let much get past

him. Instead, Xizor intended to be the soul of grace, the

epitome of politeness, the acme of good manners.

"You asked to see me, Lord Vader. How may I be of

service to you?"

Vader stepped into the room, and the door slid shut

26 STAR WARS

behind him. He made no move to sit, no surprise.

Xizor also remained standing.

Vader said, "My master bids me to arrange for a

fleet of your cargo ships to deliver supplies to our bases

on the Rim."

"But of course," Xizor said. "My entire operation is

at your disposal; I am always happy to aid the Empire

in any way that I can."

Xizor's legitimate shipping operations were quite extensive,

among the largest in the galaxy. Much of the

money from Black Sun's illicit activities had been funneled

into Xizor Transport Systems, and XTS alone

was enough to make him a wealthy and powerful man.

Vader was also aware that the holocams were upon

him. He made a comment for the record. "In the past,

it seems as if your company has been slow to respond

to Imperial requests."

"It embarrasses me to say that you are correct, Lord

Vader. Certain individuals who worked for me were

lax. However, those individuals are no longer employed

by my company."

Point, counterpoint. Vader jabbed, carefully, using a

fine point, and Xizor parried. Each conversation he had

with the Dark Lord of the Sith was thus, an obvious

surface dialogue with much hidden in the depths below

it. It was a kind of fugue, in which each player tried to

score, like two brothers trying to outdo each other in

the eyes of a critical father.

Xizor did not consider Vader anything like a nestbrother,

however. The man was an impediment to be

removed and—though he did not know it—a mortal

enemy.

Ten years ago, Vader had a pet project, research on a

biological weapon. He established a hazard lab on

Xizor's home planet of Falleen. There had been an accident

at the supposedly secure facility. A mutant tissuedestroying

bacterium somehow escaped quarantine. In

order to save the planet's population from a horrible,

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 27

rotting, always fatal infection for which there was no

cure, the city around the lab had been "sterilized."

Sterilized, as in: baked, torched, seared, burned to

cinders; houses, buildings, streets, parks—

And people.

Two hundred thousand Falleen had been killed by

the sterilization lasers crisscrossing the doomed metropolis

from orbit. The Empire counted itself lucky to

have lost only that number when the necrotizing bacteria

could have killed billions, maybe even escaped

offworld to infect other planets. It had been a close

call, but the cost had been relatively minor—in the

opinion of the Empire.

In Darth Vader's opinion.

Among the dead had been Xizor's mother, father,

brother, two sisters, and three uncles. He'd been

offworld at the time, cementing his control of Black

Sun into place; otherwise he would have been one of

the victims himself.

He had never spoken of the tragedy. He had,

through the offices of Black Sun, caused his family's

deaths to be erased from Imperial records. The operatives

who had done that deed had been themselves

eliminated. Nobody knew that Xizor the Dark Prince

had personal reasons to detest Darth Vader. It would

be natural to see the two as rivals for the Emperor's

favor, and there was no way to hide that, but of the

other, no one save Xizor had any inkling.

He had been patient, Xizor had. It was never a question

of "if," only a matter of "when" he would repay

Vader in kind.

Now at last, revenge was in the making. Soon

he would have it. He would spear two fleek-eels with

the same trident: Vader the impediment to his power

and Vader the killer of his family would both

be . . . removed.

Xizor felt a smile but held it from observation by

Vader and his hidden holocams' gazes. Killing the Dark

28 STAR WARS

Lord might be possible but much too good for him—

and dangerous in the extreme. Dishonor and disgrace

were ever so much more painful at this level of existence.

He would break Vader, would cause him to be

tossed upon the trash heap by his beloved master.

Yes. That would be justice—

"We shall need three hundred ships," Vader said,

cutting into Xizor's thoughts. "Half of them tankers,

half dry cargo transports. Standard Imperial delivery

contracts. There is a large . . . construction project of

which you are aware. Can you supply the vessels?"

"Yes, my lord. You need but tell me where and when

you desire them and I will make it so. And Imperial

terms are acceptable."

Vader stood silently for a moment, the only sound

the mechanical wheeze of his breathing.

He didn't expect that, Xizor thought. He thought I

might argue or try to haggle over the price. Good.

"Very well. I'll have the fleet supply admiral contact

you with details."

"It is my honor to serve," Xizor said. Again he gave

Vader a military bow, a bit lower and slower than before.

Anybody watching would see only how courteous

and eager to please Xizor was.

Without another word Vader turned. The wall slid

back again, and he swept from the room.

And anybody watching would see how close to the

edge of rudeness Lord Vader walked.

Again Xizor allowed himself a tiny smile.

Everything was going according to plan.

3

Luke stared at the little furnace, as if so doing could

hurry the process. Inside, the ingredients for a lightsaber

gem cooked at an incredible heat and pressure,

hot enough to melt denscris, intense enough to collapse

durasteel into a liquid ball. And yet from a meter away,

except for the red operating diode, you couldn't tell the

thing was even on. Well, except maybe for a little bit of

a smell something like a blaster bolt, a kind of ozone

odor.

The furnace had been working for hours and the little

yellow diode had not yet begun to blink, the signal

that the process was in the final stage.

He looked around at the inside of what had been

Ben Kenobi's home. It was a small place on the edge of

the Western Dune Sea, made, as so many of the local

structures were, of synstone—crushed local rock mixed

into a slurry with dissolvants and cast or sprayed onto

frames to harden. The resulting buildings were sturdy

and proof against the sandstorms. Ben's house looked

30 S TAR W A R S

almost as if it could have been a natural rock formation,

smoothed and rounded by centuries of too-hotby-

day and too-cold-by-night desert weather.

Ben. Struck down by Vader on the Death Star. The

memory was equal parts grief and rage.

His teacher hadn't left much behind, not for a man

who had once been Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi Knight

and a general in the Clone Wars. Perhaps the most valuable

thing was the old and intricately carved boawood

trunk and its contents, including an ancient

leather-bound book. A book that contained all manner

of wondrous things for a would-be Jedi, such as plans

for building a lightsaber. The thumbprint clasp on the

volume had accepted Luke's right thumb to unlock it,

and once it was open, he saw the flashpacket rigged

inside the cover. Had anybody tried to force the clasp,

the book would have burst into flame.

Somehow, Ben had known Luke would find this

book. Somehow, he had prepared it so that only he

could open it safely.

Amazing.

According to that book, the best lightsabers used

natural jewels, but there weren't a lot of the kind he

needed lying around where he could find them on

Tatooine. He'd managed to collect most of the electronic

and mechanical parts in Mos Eisley—power

cells, controls, a high-energy reflector cup—but he had

to make his own focusing jewel. Ideally, the best lightsabers

also had three of those, different densities and

facets, for a fully adjustable blade, but for his first attempt

at building the Jedi weapon, Luke wanted to

keep it as simple as possible. Even so, it was trickier

than the book made it out. He was pretty sure he had

the superconductor tuned right, the amplitude for the

length set where it was supposed to be, and the control

circuitry boards correctly installed. He couldn't be positive

until the jewel was finished, and the book didn't

mention exactly how long that took. Supposedly the

S H A D O W S OF THE EMP I R E 31

furnace would shut down automatically when it was

done.

If everything went right, he'd be able to cut the

jewel, polish and install it, tune the photoharmonics,

and then he'd only have to hit the switch to have a

working lightsaber. He had followed the instructions to

the letter; he was pretty good with tools and it ought to

be okay, but there was a small worry that when he

switched it on it might not work. That would be embarrassing.

Or worse, it might work in a way it wasn't

supposed to. That would be worse than embarrassing:

Luke Skywalker, up-and-coming Jedi Knight, a man

who had gone one-on-one with Darth Vader and lived

to tell of it, vaporized when his faulty lightsaber blew

up. So far he'd been very careful constructing the thing,

triple-checking each step, and to get this far had taken

almost a month. The book said a Jedi Master in a

hurry could construct a new lightsaber in a couple of

days.

Luke sighed. Maybe after he'd built six or eight of

them he might be able to speed it up, but he obviously

had a long, long way to go to get there—

Suddenly he felt something.

It was like hearing and smelling and tasting and seeing

somehow combined, and yet it was none of those

things. Something . . . impending, somehow.

Could it be something coming from the Force? Ben

had been able to sense events happening light-years

away, and Yoda had spoken of such things, but Luke

wasn't sure. His own experiences in his X-wing and in

his practice had been so limited.

He wished Ben were here to tell him.

Whatever it was grew stronger. For a moment, he

had a flash of recognition: Leia?

He had been able to call to her when he was about

to fall from beneath Cloud City after his encounter

with Vader. She had somehow received his cry for help.

Was it Leia?

32 S TAR WARS

He buckled on his blaster, adjusted the belt on his

hip so he could draw the weapon quickly if needed,

and went outside. Normally the Tusken Raiders—the

Sand People—stayed clear of Ben's house. They were

superstitious, Ben had told him, and with his control of

the Force, he had shown them a few tricks, enough so

they marked his place as haunted. But Ben was gone,

and whatever he had done might not work forever.

Luke didn't have Ben's control; the Raiders might not

be so impressed with him picking up a few rocks with

the Force. Then again, there was nothing wrong with

his aim, and however inelegant it was, a blaster bolt

splashing off a rock next to them would make just

about anybody stop and think.

Once he got the lightsaber built and working, he

hoped he could put the blaster away. A true Jedi did

not need any other weapon to protect himself, Ben had

told him.

He sighed. He had a way to go to get to that level,

too.

A hot wind blew grit off the desert, abrading and

drying his skin. In the distance, he saw a thin dust

cloud. Somebody approached across the barrens from

Mos Eisley, probably in a landspeeder. Since nobody

else was supposed to know he was here, it was probably

Leia or Chewie or Lando—if the Empire had located

him, they would have dropped on him from the

air, raining ships and stormtroopers. In that case, he'd

be lucky to get to his camouflaged X-wing before they

blasted the place to a smoking ruin—as they had

blasted Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru at the farm . . .

Luke felt his jaw muscles go tight at the memory.

The Empire had a lot to answer for.

The protected corridors in the core of the Imperial

Center were available only to those with proper identification,

and admissions were, supposedly, strictly lim-

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 33

ited and enforced. Such corridors were large, well

lighted, lined with fanciful botanicals, such as singing

fig trees and jade roses, and often patrolled by hawkbats,

which preyed on the rock slugs that sometimes

infested the granite walls. These corridors were designed

to be pathways in which the rich and famous

could stroll without being bothered by the rabble.

But as Xizor walked along one such enclosed path,

his four bodyguards ahead of or behind him, an interloper

appeared in front of them and started shooting at

the Dark Prince with a blaster.

One of the pair of bodyguards in front took a bolt in

the chest that pierced his concealed hardweave armor

and dropped him. Xizor noticed the chest wound

smoked as the guard groaned and rolled onto his back.

The second guard, whether through skill or luck, returned

fire and scored a direct hit on the assassin's

blaster, knocking it from his hand. The threat was

over.

The attacker screamed and charged at the remaining

guards and Xizor barehanded.

Intrigued, Xizor watched the man come. The assassin

was big, bigger than any of the guards and much

larger than Xizor himself, built like a heavy-gravity

weight lifter, and he was obviously crazed if he would

charge three armed men without a weapon.

How interesting.

"Don't shoot him," Xizor said.

The running man was only twenty or so meters

away and closing fast.

The Dark Prince allowed himself one of his tightsmiles.

"Leave him alone," he said. "He's mine."

The trio of bodyguards tucked their own blasters

away and moved aside. They knew better than to question

Xizor's orders. Those who did could wind up like

the still-smoking guard lying on the polished marble

floor.

34 STAR WARS

The assassin continued his run, screaming incoherently.

Xizor waited. When the man was nearly upon him,

the Dark Prince pivoted on the balls of his feet and

slapped a hard palm against the back of the man's head

as he charged past. The extra momentum of the strike

was enough to off-balance the yelling man so that he

overstepped and fell. He managed to turn the fall into

an awkward shoulder roll. He came up, spun, faced

Xizor. He was a bit more wary now. He moved in,

more slowly, hands held in tight fists.

"What seems to be the problem, citizen?" Xizor

asked.

"You murdering scum! You bog slime!"

The man lunged in closer, swung a roundhouse

punch at Xizor's head. Had it connected it would have

shattered bone. Xizor ducked and sidestepped, kicked

the attacker in the belly with the toe of his right boot

and knocked the man's wind out.

The attacker tottered back a few steps to catch his

breath.

"Have we met? I have an excellent memory for

faces, and I don't recall yours." Xizor noticed a bit of

lint on the shoulder of his tunic. He reached up and

brushed it off.

"You killed my father. Have you forgotten Colby

Hoff?"

The man charged again, fists swinging wildly.

Xizor stepped aside and almost nonchalantly

slammed a hammerfist into the man's head, knocking

him down.

"You are mistaken, Hoff. Your father committed

suicide, as I recall. Stuck a blaster in his mouth and

blew the back of his head off, didn't he? Very messy."

Hoff came up from the floor, and his rage drove him

at Xizor again.

Xizor V-stepped to his right and drove his left boot

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 35

heel at Hoff's left knee, hard. He heard the joint go

with a wet snap as he connected.

Hoff fell, his left leg no longer able to support him.

"You ruined him!" He struggled up to his good

knee.

"We were business competitors," Xizor said matterof-

factly. "He gambled that he was smarter than I. A

foolish mistake. If you cannot afford to lose, you

should not play the game."

"I'm going to kill you!"

"I think not," Xizor said. He stepped in behind the

wounded man, moving fast for one his size, and

grabbed Hoff's head with both hands. "You see, to

contend with Xizor is to lose. As far as any reasonable

person is concerned, attacking me will also be judged a

suicide."

With that, Xizor gave a sharp, hard twist.

The crack of vertebrae was quite loud in the corridor.

"Clean up this mess," he said to his guards. "And

inform the proper authorities of this poor young man's

fate."

He looked down at the body. He felt no remorse. It

was like stepping on a roach. It meant nothing to him

at all.

In his most private chamber, the Emperor sat staring

at a life-size holographic recording: Prince Xizor breaking

the neck of someone who'd attacked him in a protected

corridor.

The Emperor smiled and turned in his floating repulsor

chair to look at Darth Vader.

"Well," the Emperor said, "it seems that Prince

Xizor has kept up his martial arts practice, does it

not?"

Unseen under his armored mask, Vader frowned.

36 STAR WARS

"He is a dangerous man, my master. Not to be

trusted."

The Emperor favored him with one of his unattractive,

toothy smiles. "Do not trouble yourself with

Xizor, Lord Vader. He is my concern."

"As you wish." Vader bowed.

"One wonders how that hotheaded young man

managed to get into a protected corridor," the Emperor

said. But there was no wonder in the Emperor's voice,

none at all.

Vader's face froze. He knew. It was not possible, for

the guard who had admitted the would-be assassin into

the corridor was no longer among the living, and none

but that single man had known who ordered him to

allow the young man access—but somehow, the Emperor

knew.

The Emperor's mastery of the dark side was great

indeed.

"I will look into it, my master," Vader said.

The Emperor waved an age-spotted hand in dismissal.

"Don't bother. There was no harm done. Prince

Xizor was hardly at risk, after all, was he? He seems

quite capable of taking care of himself—though I

would hate to see anything happen to him as long as he

is useful to us."

Vader bowed again. As usual, the Emperor made his

point in a subtle manner, but in such a way that it

could not be ignored. There would be no further attempts

to test Xizor's ability to defend himself against

deadly attack.

Not yet, anyway.

Meanwhile, Vader would keep a close watch on the

Dark Prince. The Falleen was all too devious, and

whatever his twisted mind was up to would serve the

Empire only if it served Xizor himself.

Xizor was, after all, a criminal. His morals were perverse,

his ethics situational, his loyalties nonexistent.

He would stop at nothing to get his way, and Vader

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 37

was fairly certain in his own mind that what Xizor

wanted did not include a galaxy in which there was

room for Vader or the Emperor.

To contend with Xizor is to lose?

We shall see.

4

The landspeeder carrying them neared their destination,

Leia saw Luke standing next to the house, watching.

Odd, that he would somehow know of their

approach.

Of course, out here in the middle of nowhere, nothing

but sand and rocks and scrub, he could have seen

them coming for a long way. It might not be the Force

at work here but simple observation.

Chewie brought the speeder to a stop. Dust kicked

up by the repulsors floated around them for a moment

before the nearly constant wind swirled it away. This

climate would leach you dry if you stayed out in it unprotected

for too long. The dunes shifted and revealed

more than a few crisp white bones of those who had

thought they could move around the desert with impunity.

Luke smiled at her, and once again Leia felt that

sense of confusion. She loved Han, but here was Luke,

and she certainly felt a connection to him, too. Was it

S H A D O W S OF T H E EMP I R E 39

possible for a woman to love two men at the same

time? She returned his smile. It was not the same with

Luke as with Han, but there was something there.

"Hey, Luke," Lando said.

Chewie added what had to be a greeting.

"Master Luke, it's so good to see you again,"

Threepio said. His normally bright golden color was

somewhat dimmed by a coat of dust. It seemed as if the

protocol droid somehow attracted more dirt to himself

than the rest of them did, though Leia felt a little gritty

herself after the long ride from town.

Even Artoo whistled a happy greeting.

They all liked Luke. There was something about him

that seemed so natural and so attractive. Maybe it was

the Force flowing through him. Maybe it was because

he seemed like such a nice person.

"We would have called," Lando said, "but we didn't

want to risk having our com overheard. Chewie saw a

couple of those new Imperial codecracker slicer droids

in town; he thinks they might be monitoring local calls.

No point in taking any unnecessary risks."

Luke nodded. "Good thought. Come on inside."

There was a faint smell of something cooking in

what had been Obi-Wan's simple home. The aroma reminded

Leia of a time she'd gone camping as a girl and

had sat around an open fire. She saw a small blast furnace

set up on a table. Was Luke making some kind of

jewelry?

They told Luke why they'd come.

He was immediately excited. He was ready to hop

into his X-wing and leave right now.

"Hold on a second," Lando said. "First we have to

make sure Fett's there. Then there's the little matter of

the Imperial Navy."

Luke shrugged. "Hey, we can fly circles around

those guys."

Lando and Leia exchanged glances. Whatever else

40 STAR WARS

Luke was, he was not lacking in self-confidence when it

came to his piloting.

Chewie spoke up.

Threepio translated: "Ah, Chewbacca wonders if

perhaps the Rebel Alliance might not be willing to help,

given Master Han's services to them."

Luke grinned like a child seeing a new toy. "Sure

they would. Wedge is in command of Rogue Squadron

now, and he told me if I ever needed them they'd come

running."

"They can drop whatever they are doing, just like

that?" Lando asked.

Leia nodded. "I don't see why not. The Alliance's

chain of command is a lot looser than the Empire's. We

have to be more flexible, given the numbers. The

Rogues don't have any permanent assignment, and I'm

sure I can convince the Alliance that Captain Solo is

worth rescuing. He was instrumental in the destruction

of the Death Star; plus we need all the good pilots we

can get."

Leia glanced at the others quickly, to see if her

somewhat shaky reasoning covered her true feelings.

Luke didn't seem to see past what she said, eager to

fly as he was; Lando's small grin could mean anything;

the droids and Chewie were unreadable.

"Great," Luke said. "Let's do it!"

"Not so fast," Lando said. "First what say we wait

for the confirmation that Fett is actually on Gall before

we take off? That's a long trip to make for nothing."

Leia could see that Luke didn't want to wait—patience

didn't seem to be his strongest virtue—but he

could see the wisdom of what Lando said. "Okay. But

in the meantime, let's contact Wedge and have the

Rogues standing by."

"I'll speak to the leadership," Leia said.

She hoped that Lando's informant—what was his

name? Dash somebody?—would get the information to

S H A D O W S OF THE EMP IRE 41

them quickly. And she hoped that the rumor was true.

Nobody wanted Han back more than she did.

Aizor sat at the head of the long table in his private

meeting room, watching the nervous faces of his lieutenants.

Guri stood behind him at a modified parade

rest, her hands out of sight at the small of her back.

They had reason to be nervous, his lieutenants. By

ascending to this level in Black Sun, they had each

earned the honorific "Vigo," from the old Tionese for

"nephew." It fostered the illusion that the top managers

of the organization were family and thus made

them appear stronger to outsiders.

Unfortunately, the appearance was not always the

truth.

One of them at the table was a spy.

Xizor did not know for whom the spy worked—

could be the Empire, the Rebel Alliance, even a rival

criminal organization—and he did not particularly

care. Everybody spied on everybody in this business, it

was a given, but the fact that it was normal did not

mean that you let it pass when you found it.

Now, at the beginning of this meeting, he had nine

lieutenants at this table, each of whom was responsible

for several stellar systems.

At the end of this meeting, he would have eight lieutenants.

But first, the normal business of Black Sun must be

attended to and properly settled.

"I will have your reports," Xizor said. "Vigo

Lonay?"

Lonay was a Twi'lek, sly, clever, and cowardly. He

wore his prehensile head-tails wrapped and draped

over one shoulder, his usual garish jewelry and decorative

coloration toned down for this meeting. "My

prince, the spice trade is up twenty-one percent in our

sector, the gambling casino ships have increased their

42 STAR WARS

business by eight percent, and the arms dealers are doing

a brisk business; current estimates indicate a thirtyone

percent increase. Unfortunately, slave revenues are

down fifty-three percent. Several planets have fallen under

the sway of the Rebel Alliance and passed local

laws forbidding slavery. Until the Empire chooses to

intercede, I am afraid revenues in this area will remain

depressed."

Xizor nodded. Lonay would always be too much a

coward to risk death by betraying his "uncle." His

whole species was that way.

The Dark Prince said, "Vigo Sprax?"

Sprax, a Nalroni whose dark fur had begun to gray,

though he dyed it to try to appear younger, began to

rattle off his statistics. Xizor watched him, listened

with half his attention—he already knew all of what

was being officially delivered.

Sprax was too smart to try to cross Xizor.

The Nalroni finished his report.

"Vigo Vekker?"

Vekker, a Quarren, flashed a nervous smile and

started his recitation.

The Squid Head had no ambition to rise any higher,

was content with his job and the status quo.

One by one Xizor called for the Vigos to speak, and

one by one the rest of them did: Durga the Hutt,

Kreet'ah the Kian'thar, Clezo the Rodian, Wumdi the

Etti, Perit the Mon Calamari, Green the Human.

It was hard to believe any of his Vigos would be so

foolish; after all, one could not get to this elevated

status without years of loyal effort. Some of them had

come up through the ranks—smugglers, thieves, businessmen—

and some of them had been trained from

birth and had inherited their places from their fathers,

or, in the case of Kreet'ah, his biological mother. Several

of these nine had been Vigos before Xizor himself

had attained that rank before moving to head Black

Sun.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 43

And yet, there it was. Life was full of treachery.

He let them all sit and worry for a few moments.

Then he nodded at Guri. His most trusted bodyguard

and employee began to walk behind the seated Vigos.

They all had their own intelligence operations, and

they all knew at least what Xizor had allowed them to

find out about the traitor—not much save that there

was one. And that he did not know who it was.

A calculated bit of prevarication, this last. He did

know who it was. And now the matter would be . . .

corrected.

"A final item on our agenda, my Vigos. One of your

number has seen fit to use his office to betray us. Not

content with the millions of credits he has made by my

largesse, the awards, bonuses, dividends, and unreported

skim that all of you indulge yourselves in,

this . . . person has dishonored the title of Vigo."

Guri strolled behind the seated lieutenants slowly.

Xizor watched them. Those who could, sweated or

flushed or otherwise showed signs of fear they could

not hide.

She passed Durga, Kreet'ah, Clezo, reached the

other end of the table and circled around it.

Xizor continued speaking, slowly, evenly, betraying

nothing in his tone. "There are sublieutenants among

your ranks who would cheerfully wipe out entire planets

to be given such an opportunity as you all have

been given. To be a Vigo in Black Sun is to enjoy more

power than all but a handful of beings in the entire

galaxy."

Guri passed Lonay, passed Sprax, then Vekker.

Paused a moment behind Durga the Hutt.

Tension thickened in the room, became almost tangible.

Xizor thought that was a nice touch. Durga was nobody's

fool and would never risk himself as a spy; no,

the Hutt had ambition enough for ten; he would go for

a coup. Having Guri pause behind him let him know

44 STAR WARS

Xizor was keeping an eye on him. A warning that he

should think long and hard before trying to climb from

his lofty plateau to the top of the mountain.

Guri moved on, and the sense of relief that came

from Durga was, like the tension, something you could

very nearly collect from the air and use for a doorstop.

The droid who could pass as a woman sauntered

past Wumdi the Etti and Perit the Mon Calamari.

She stopped behind Green the Human.

Xizor smiled.

Green tried to stand, but Guri was incredibly fast.

She whipped her arm around the man's throat and

locked it with her other arm into a choke hold.

Green struggled briefly, but he might as well have

been wrestling with a durasteel clamp. The blood that

fed his brain shut off, and he lost consciousness.

Guri tightened the hold and held it, held it, held

it . . .

A long time passed. None of the other Vigos moved.

When Green was no longer among the living, Guri

released him, and he fell forward; his head thumped

loudly upon the table.

"I will accept nominations for a new Vigo now,"

Xizor said.

Nobody spoke for a moment, and Xizor kept his

face bland. A pity about Green; he was one of the

smartest of all the Vigos. But humans were quick to

treachery and could hardly ever be trusted.

He looked at his lieutenants again, waited for them

to speak. Here was an object lesson they would certainly

remember.

To contend with Xizor is to lose.

Never forget that.

After the Vigos had gone and the body had been removed,

Guri returned.

"I thought that went well," Xizor said.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 45

Guri nodded once, not speaking.

"You have assembled all the information on

Skywalker?"

"Yes, my prince."

He stared into space. His organization was huge, the

people working for him numbering in the tens of thousands,

but some things he had to deal with personally.

Especially something this . . . sensitive.

"All of the material has been checked and

rechecked?"

"As you ordered."

"Very well. Let the bounty hunters know the price

for Skywalker's head. Black Sun's hand must be invisible.

There must be no mistakes."

"There will be none, my prince."

"Oh, I would like to speak to Jabba the Hutt."

"He will be online when you return from midday

meal, my prince."

"No. Have him come here by the fastest ship; I

would speak to him personally."

"As you wish."

Guri stood silently as Xizor considered his plan.

Vader wanted Skywalker, wanted him alive to give

to the Emperor. Xizor's memory of that conversation

he'd been privileged to overhear some months back

was that the Emperor very much wanted the young

man alive and in his control.

Black Sun's reach was long and wide, and what information

there was on Vader's quarry was now in

Xizor's personal computer system. The Dark Lord of

the Sith had all but promised to deliver Skywalker not

only alive but made pliable to the Emperor's wishes.

If Vader should fail in his promise, if it could be

made to appear that he had never really intended to

produce this young would-be Jedi for the Emperor, if it

could be made to seem that he had killed the boy rather

than risk facing him . . .

Well. The Emperor put great stock in Vader's abili-

46 STAR WARS

ties, probably trusted him as much as he trusted anyone.

But the Emperor demanded total loyalty and total

obedience. If he could be made to believe that Vader

was disloyal or disobedient or had simply failed in his

assigned task, things would not go well for Vader.

The Emperor was capricious. He had been known to

have whole cities destroyed because a local official defied

him. He'd once had a wealthy and influential family

banished from the core systems because one of the

sons had plowed a ship into one of the Emperor's favorite

buildings, damaging it—and not incidentally killing

the pilot responsible.

If the Emperor thought that his trusted right hand,

Darth Vader, his own creation, was any kind of threat,

even the Dark Lord of the Sith would not be immune

to Imperial anger.

Yes, it was a good plan. A bit complicated, but all

the possible sequels had been examined and considered

and covered.

In the end, he knew he had found the perfect

weapon with which to finally defeat Darth Vader:

The death of Luke Skywalker.

5

Darth Vader sat naked inside his hyperbaric medical

chamber. The interior lighting was turned off, and he

was free of the armor that he had to wear to sustain

himself in public. The Force was powerful; Vader

thought the dark side even more so, but he had never

been able to use it to heal his badly burned body to the

extent that he wished. That he was alive at all was

something of a miracle, but he had somehow failed to

master the energies needed for complete regeneration.

He believed that it was possible; that with sufficient

meditation and training, he would someday be able to

rebuild himself into the man he once had been.

Physically, at least.

He would never go back to what he had been mentally.

Weak, foolish, idealistic. Anakin had been much

like Luke Skywalker was now. Mere . . . potential.

Yes, the Force was strong in Luke, perhaps even

stronger than it had been in Anakin. But the boy

needed to embrace the dark side, to learn where the

48 STAR WARS

real power was, to achieve his true promise. If he did

not, the Emperor would destroy Luke.

Vader did not want that.

When they fought, he had also tried to strike the boy

down, but that had been merely a test. Had he been

able to kill Luke easily, Luke would not have been

worth the effort to recruit. But although he had certainly

attempted to defeat Luke, the boy had held his

own. Despite Vader's superior skill, despite his experience,

Luke had survived with no more damage than an

easily repaired amputated hand.

The meeting had made Vader feel, not a normal occurrence

lately. There had been the thrill at meeting a

worthy opponent and pride that the one so strongly

opposing him was his own son.

Vader smiled into the darkness surrounding him.

Obi-Wan had not told Luke that Anakin Sky walker

had become Darth Vader. Luke's anger at the man who

had slain his teacher had been potent, had allowed the

dark side to claim him. If Vader hadn't broken that

anger with fear and confusion by telling the boy that he

was his father, Luke could have defeated him. A Jedi

does not fight in anger; he holds his emotions in check

and allows the Force to move through him. But the

dark side needed to be fed with strong emotion, and

when it was, it repaid that sustenance tenfold.

Luke had felt the power of the dark side. It was up

to Vader to find him and allow him to feel it again. The

dark side was addictive, more potent than any drug.

When Luke accepted it, he would be more powerful

than Vader, more powerful than the Emperor. Together

they could rule the galaxy.

Enough. It was time for another test.

Vader waved his hand over the motion-sensitive controls

in his chamber. The spherical chamber opened

and the lid lifted with a hydraulic hiss and escape of

pressurized air. He sat exposed to the surrounding

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 49

room, unprotected by the supermedicated and oxygenated

field inside the chamber.

He concentrated on the injustice of his condition, on

his hatred of Obi-Wan, who had made him so. With

the anger and hatred, the dark side of the Force permeated

Vader.

For a moment, his ruined tissues altered, his scarred

lungs and dead alveoli and constricted passages

smoothed out and became whole.

For a moment, he could breathe as normal beings

breathed.

His sense of relief, his triumph, his joy at being able

to do so drove the dark side from him as surely as a

light chases away shadow. The dark side eagerly consumed

anger, but it was poisoned by happiness. It left

him, and when it did he could breathe no longer.

Vader waved his hand, and the half-dome lowered

and sealed him into the chamber once again.

He had achieved it briefly, as he had done several

times before. The trick was to maintain it. He must not

allow himself to feel relief, but must somehow cling to

his rage even as he healed.

It was difficult. He had not purged all of Anakin

Skywalker, that blemished and frail man from whom

he had been born. Until he did, he could never give

himself over totally to the dark side. It was his greatest

weakness, his most terrible flaw. A single spot of light

amid the dark that he had been unable to eradicate

over all the years, no matter how hard he tried.

Vader sighed. He would have to try harder. He

could not afford any weaknesses, given his enemies—

and more especially, given his friends.

Luke reset the jewel in the clamp and took a deep

breath. He had the first few facets done, and now the

cuts were getting trickier. If he tapped the shearing tool

50 STAR WARS

too hard, he could shatter the jewel, and if he did, he'd

have to cook another one and start over.

Chewie sat watching him, apparently very interested,

while Leia napped in the bedroom. Lando had

left them all at Ben's and taken the landspeeder to

town. He was due back soon . . .

Chewie looked away, hearing something. He spoke.

Threepio, who was playing some kind of word

translation game with Artoo, turned. "Chewbacca says

Master Lando has returned."

Luke nodded but concentrated on his task. He

tapped the cutter with the little wooden hammer . . .

A flat sliver of the stone flaked off. All right! Perfect—

Lando came in, grinning.

"What are you so happy about?" Luke said.

"I just got a coded call from Dash Rendar. That is

Boba Fett's ship on Gall."

In theory, only the Empire could use the expensive

and restricted HoloNet; in practice, anybody with a little

primary electronic education could tap into the net,

use a few relays, and make calls easily. And to add

insult to injury, make the Empire pay for it, too.

Luke jumped up. "When can we leave?"

"I've got the Millennium Falcon ready to go. How

long will it take you to get your X-wing operational?"

"Soon as Artoo and I get on board!"

"Get on board what?" Leia said from the doorway.

She rubbed sleep from her eyes.

"It looks as if we've found him," Lando said.

"I'll meet you in orbit," Luke said. He grinned. The

waiting was over.

Leia said, "I'll get off a coded call to the Rogues."

Luke nodded.

They were going to get Han.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 51

Jabba waited in the visitors' chamber. The Dark

Prince entered and looked at the Hutt. Such gross and

ugly creatures they were, but no less useful for that.

"<Greetings, Prince Xizor,>" Jabba said, in Huttese.

"Speak Basic," Xizor said.

"As you wish."

"How goes your business, Jabba? Are things well in

your sector?"

"They could be better. Revenues are up, generally.

Of course, the cost of Imperial bribes has also risen. As

have shipping and salaries. But one does what one

must."

"I understand you have had some dealings with high

officials in the Empire of late."

Jabba looked quizzical. As quizzical as Hutts could

look.

"I speak of Lord Vader."

"Ah. Not directly, Highness. I recently engaged several

bounty hunters to, ah, collect a bad debt. As it

happened, one of them—Boba Fett, I believe you have

utilized him yourself a time or two?—managed to locate

the, ah, source of the debt in Imperial hands. Lord

Vader was in command of the situation. A coincidence,

I am told."

"You are speaking of Captain Solo, I believe."

It was not a question, and it was meant to remind

Jabba that Xizor had more than a few sources of intelligence

himself. This was a tricky game, and it had to

be balanced precisely. Xizor needed information, but

he could not reveal what it was and thus must circle

around it. He also had to let the Hutt know who was

in charge, and showing him he knew trivial things was

part of that.

He saw Jabba get it.

"A minor smuggler," Jabba offered. "He has had his

uses in the past, but he joined the Alliance and does

owe me money."

"Some refreshment, Jabba?"

52 STAR WARS

"Thank you. Something crunchy?"

Xizor waved a hand and a serving droid appeared

almost instantly, bearing a tray of insectoids and some

vile liquid Hutts were known to favor.

"Ah, thank you, Highness." He picked up one of the

wiggling things and ate it.

Xizor leaned forward, as if to convey a sense of

closeness. "I have had some dealings with Vader myself

of late," he said. "Your presence here is most important,

Jabba; information, even the smallest details

about the Dark Lord of the Sith, will be most helpful to

me in my present situation. This deal with Boba Fett,

has it been finalized yet?"

"Not yet, my prince. I am awaiting delivery of Captain

Solo."

As if remembering a small and insignificant fact,

Xizor said, "Hmm. Wasn't this Solo part of a Rebel

force that attacked the Death Star?"

"Yes, Highness. He and his friends were instrumental

in its destruction. The Wookiee Chewbacca, Princess

Leia Organa, and a young unknown player by the

name of Skywalker, all were involved in the debacle."

"Skywalker?"

Jabba laughed, a deep rumble that echoed from his

huge bulk. "Yes, he thinks he is a Jedi Knight, so I

understand," he said when he'd finished laughing. "He

was until recently on Tatooine."

"Where is he now?"

"Who knows? He took his X-wing offplanet only a

short time ago."

Xizor leaned back. "Hmm. It probably means nothing,

but perhaps these things will be of use to me. If

any of these people return to Tatooine, I would greatly

appreciate knowing it."

"Certainly, Prince Xizor."

Xizor nodded. He was essentially done, but he continued

to carry on a conversation with the Hutt, pretended

that Jabba's opinion was worthwhile and that

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 53

he needed to hear it. He let it run for another ten minutes,

asked a few questions about Imperial troop movements

and naval deployment so that Jabba would think

that was the reason he'd been summoned. When he had

done what he thought was enough of it, Xizor smiled.

"Old friend, this information is most confidential," he

said. "It must remain between us. Your cooperation

will be suitably . . . appreciated."

The Hutt mirrored Xizor's smile. Sometimes the'

touch of a soft word was more powerful than the impact

of a hard staff. Jabba was not stupid, and he knew

what happened to anyone who crossed the Dark

Prince. But—let Jabba think instead he was privy to

some vital bit of business, some twisted plot, that he

was a trusted confidant. It would do the Hutt's reputation

no harm if his underlings and enemies thought he

had the ear of the leader of Black Sun. Fear was good;

fear and greed were better.

Xizor nodded and took his leave.

His spies had learned that Darth Vader had turned

Solo, a small-time smuggler and sometime Alliance pilot,

over to the notorious bounty hunter Boba Fett on

Bespin. Sooner or later, Fett would show up on

Tatooine to deliver Solo and collect his credits. But

Xizor's spies indicated that Fett's ship, Slave I, was not

on Tatooine. And so far those spies had not been able

to locate the bounty hunter.

Well. It was a large galaxy, and such searches took

time.

But he was willing to bet that Skywalker knew

about the bounty on his friend and had returned to

Tatooine to wait for Fett to show up. That he had left

could indicate a lot of things. Perhaps he had gotten

tired of waiting, though Xizor did not think that likely.

Or perhaps he had pressing business unconnected to

Solo. Or perhaps he had, through the Alliance, discovered

where his friend was. That was possible, given

54 S TAR WARS

that the Alliance's contacts were fairly extensive and

included much of the famed Bothan spynet.

Well. There was nothing to be done about it, if that

was the case. But he could increase his agents' chances

of finding Skywalker.

He reached his sanctum and called Guri. She glided

in silently.

"Put out the information that those seeking to claim

the reward for Skywalker would be advised to locate

the bounty hunter Boba Fett. Sooner or later,

Skywalker will likely do so, and appropriate plans can

be made for that instance."

Guri nodded, not speaking.

Xizor smiled.

Leia sat in the Millennium Falcon's lounge, watching

Chewie and Threepio play on the hologame board.

Lando was in the galley making something that smelled

awful for their dinner. Luke sat next to Leia, cleaning

the lenses on Artoo's electrophoto receptors. Luke's

X-wing was locked onto the Falcon's hull—the trip was

possible in the fighter, but it was also a long jump to

make without sleeping or eating or using the 'fresher.

The Falcon hummed along through hyperspace on

autopilot, running much better than it had any right to,

looking as it did. The first time Leia had seen the Corellian

freighter she'd almost laughed. The ship appeared

to have been rescued from a scrap pile. But while it had

a few glitches, it was obvious the craft had been heavily

modified to fly faster and shoot harder than the Corellian

designers had ever intended. Lando had owned the

ship once, until he lost it to Han in a sabacc game,

Han-

No, don't think about him now.

Chewie said something that sounded angry and impolite.

S H A D O W S OF THE EMP I R E 55

Threepio said, "Well, I'm sorry, but it was a fair

move. It's not my fault you didn't see it."

Chewie said something else.

"No. I'm not going to take it back. And don't

threaten me. If you pull my arm off, I won't play with

you anymore."

Chewie muttered something, then leaned back on his

seat and looked at the game board.

Leia smiled. Like a couple of small children, the

Wookiee and the protocol droid.

She turned and watched Luke as he cleared the

micrometeor dust from Artoo. Luke wanted to rescue

Han as much as she did. Which was interesting, given

that she'd felt the competition from them for her attention.

A lesser man than Luke might take advantage of a

rival's absence, but so far he had not. That was the

thing about Luke. He wanted to win, but he wanted to

win fairly.

Lando came into the lounge bearing a tray with several

steaming plates and bowls upon it.

"Dinner is served," Lando said. He smiled. "Giju

stew."

They all glanced at him, then went back to what

they were doing.

"Don't everybody rush in at once," Lando said. His

smile faded.

To Leia, the stuff on the tray looked like a cross

between melted boot plastic and fertilizer, with a sprinkling

of pond scum over it. Stank like she imagined

that combination would smell, too.

"Come on, I spent an hour in the galley fixing this.

Everybody dig in!"

Chewie said something that didn't sound particularly

complimentary.

"Hey, pal, you don't like it, you cook next time."

Luke looked up from his work on Artoo, made an

oh-yuck face. "Giju stew?" he said. "It looks like old

56 STAR WARS

boot plastic and fertilizer drenched in pond scum.

Smells like it, too—"

Leia chuckled.

"Fine, fine!" Lando said. He put the tray down in

the middle of the hologame board. The tiny game figures

suddenly seemed to be buried to their hips or

chests in the steaming goo. "Don't eat it, that'll just

mean more for me."

Lando snatched up one of the bowls and dipped a

spoon into it, shoved the spoon into his mouth. "See?"

he said around the mouthful of stew. "It tastes great,

it—" He stopped talking. The expression on his face

went from irritated to amazed, slid to horror, then

right into disgust.

He forced himself to swallow. Then he blew a quick

breath and shook his head. "Oh, man. Maybe I did use

a little too much Boontaspice," he offered. "Maybe I'll

just open a couple of packets of beans for dinner."

Luke and Leia laughed at the same instant. Looked

at each other.

There were worse places she could be than with her

friends, Leia decided.

A lot worse places.

6

When the Millennium Falcon broke from hyperspace

in the vicinity of the gas giant Zhar, Luke used one of

the vacuum suits to transfer to his X-wing for the rest

of the trip. Lando and Leia would have preferred that

they all stay together, but if any trouble showed up,

better there were two armed ships to meet it than one,

Luke argued. They saw his point.

After he and Artoo were in the fighter, Luke felt a

lot better. Yeah, Lando was a good pilot, but Luke

trusted his own skills more. Not that he was necessarily

a better flier—though he was pretty sure he was—but

at least he didn't have to sit and watch. The vac-suit

made things a little tight, though.

He kept the little ship close to the Falcon as they

entered the system. What was Boba Fett doing this far

out on the Rim? It didn't seem to be on the way to

anywhere.

He saw the blips on his scope about the time he got

the call over his comm.

58 S TAR WARS

"Hey, Luke! Welcome to the end of the galaxy."

"Hey, Wedge! How's it going, buddy?"

"So-so. Another day, another credit—before taxes,

of course."

Luke smiled. Wedge Antilles had been one of the Alliance

pilots who survived the attack on the Death Star.

He could fly, and he was braver than he had any right

to be. Good old Wedge.

Here they came. A dozen ships like his own.

"Good to see you again, Luke. I hope you've got

something interesting cooked up for us; things have

been a little slow lately."

"Well, if you want to talk about bad cooking, you'll

need to speak to Lando—"

"I heard that," Lando said over the comm.

Luke grinned at the Falcon where it flew on his port

side.

"Just a joke, Lando."

"Hey, Calrissian, long time. I figured you'd be in jail

by now."

"Not yet, Antilles, not yet."

"Follow us, Luke," Wedge said, "we've got camp set

up on a little moon called Kile in the planet shadow

opposite Gall. We've fixed it up real nice, got air, gravity,

water, all the comforts of home."

"Lead on," Luke said. "We're right behind you."

"You call this 'real nice'?" Leia said as she looked

around at the interior of the cast-plast prefab building

Rogue Squadron had set up as a base. It was basically

four walls and a roof and looked like a cross between a

warehouse and a hangar, with exposed plastic beams

and not much else. It was cold, and it smelled like

burned rock. "I'd hate to see a place you thought was

not real nice."

Wedge smiled. "Well, you know the Rogues. All we

need is a ship and rock to land it on."

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 59

"You got that second part right."

Wedge led them to a corner of the chilly building

where a table and a holoproj unit had been set up. A

man sat sprawled in one of the one-piece cast-plast

chairs, looking as if he were asleep.

He didn't really look anything like Han—he had red

hair and pale skin—but something about the way he

sat . . .

He might have been asleep, but his eyes flicked open

fast and he looked awake by the time they got there.

He was tall, lean, had green eyes. He wore freighter

togs, a gray coverall, and a bolstered blaster slung low

on his hip. He looked to be about Han's age, Leia figured,

and he had that same lazy, insolent look about

him. He came to his feet and made a low, sweeping,

theatrical bow.

"Princess Leia," he said. "How delightful of you to

visit us here in our humble castle, Your Highness." He

waved at the big empty room and grinned.

Leia shook her head. Could Han have a long-lost

brother? Did these guys take lessons in how to speak

smartmouth?

Lando said, "This is Dash Rendar, thief, card cheat,

smuggler, and an okay pilot."

Dash's grin increased. "What do you mean, 'okay

pilot,' Calrissian? I can fly rings around you in a onewinged

hopper with a plugged jet."

"And modest, too," Leia said.

Dash bowed low. "I see that the princess has a keen

eye to go with her stunning beauty."

Oh, brother, Leia thought. This guy was going to

lead them to Boba Fett?

"Bottle the serpent oil, Dash," Lando said. "Let's

take care of business."

"First good idea you've had in years, Lando," Dash

said.

Lando made introductions. "So you know who Prin-

60 S T A R WA R S

cess Leia is, and you know Chewie. This is Luke

Skywalker."

Luke stepped forward, and the two men nodded at

each other.

"Have we met? You look familiar."

"You might have seen me on Hoth," Dash said. "I

was delivering a shipment of food stores when the

shield went up. I flew a snowspeeder during the battle

while waiting my turn to leave."

Luke nodded. "That's right. You took down one of"

the Imperial walkers, I remember now. You were pretty

good."

Dash flashed the bright smile again. "Pretty good? I

slept through most of that battle, kid. I could have

stayed and knocked those walkers over all day without

raising my heartbeat, if I hadn't had an appointment to

pick up paying cargo elsewhere."

Leia shook her head. What was it with men? It was

a wonder they didn't knock themselves down, patting

themselves on the back so hard. Did she really need to

get involved with another hotshot braggart?

Well, yes. If he could take them to where Han was

being held prisoner, she could stand it.

Wedge said, "We've done a little recon work, couple

of flybys. Let me show you the layout." He moved to

the holoprojector controls.

Luke watched as Wedge began showing them the holographic

maps and recorded images of the moon

where Boba Fett's ship was supposed to be docked. If

they could believe this Dash Rendar. He was pretty

good at shining his own light, that was for sure, and

yeah, he had done okay during the fight on Hoth, but

Luke wasn't so sure about this guy.

Still, Lando seemed to think they could trust Dash's

judgment, as long as he was well paid.

Luke had to smile at that. Han had seemed like

S H A D O W S OF THE EMP I R E 61

nothing more than a mercenary smuggler when they'd

first met, and pretty quick to let people know what a

terrific pilot he was, too. It wasn't until later that Luke

realized that was just a public mask, a facade behind

which Han hid so nobody would know how much he

really cared. Maybe there was more to Dash Rendar

than met the eye, too.

Wedge said, ". . . moon has some bad atmospheric

conditions, big cyclonic storms that get real mean,

mostly in the southern hemisphere. You wouldn't want

to try to fly through one of those."

Dash laughed. "Maybe you wouldn't want to, Antilles,

but I eat thunderstorms for breakfast."

Or maybe there isn't more to him, Luke thought.

Maybe he's just crazy.

Wedge continued the briefing. The Imperial Enclave

was home base to two Star Destroyers—turned out the

carrier was just a rumor—but that was plenty. Luke

knew that a standard Destroyer carried a wing of TIE

fighters, each wing made up of six squads, which meant

seventy-two TIEs per Destroyer. A hundred and fortyfour

of them against the twelve in Rogue Squadron.

Well. Thirteen, counting Luke's ship. That made the

odds a hair less than twelve to one. Not so bad compared

to some battles they'd been in.

He grinned. It was a measure of how lopsided the

war between the Empire and the Alliance was when

twelve-to-one odds didn't seem so bad.

As Luke listened, he started thinking about a plan.

Simpler the better, he figured.

Wedge finished his briefing. "That's about it. What

do you think, Luke?"

"Piece of cake," Luke said. "I know just how to do

it."

Leia and Lando both looked at him as if he'd turned

into a big spider. He grinned again.

62 STAR WARS

In his sanctum Xizor grinned at the information

floating holographically before him. Well, well. The

misguided young man who had seen fit to try to kill

him—what was his name? Hoff?—had gained access to

the protected corridor through an Imperial checkpoint

a mere few hundred meters away. And here was an odd

coincidence—the guard who had been on duty at that

checkpoint had mysteriously vanished. So whatever

subterfuge the dead man had used would never be

known, him being dead and the guard having disappeared.

Xizor would bet half his fortune against a bent

decicred that the absent guard would never be heard

from again, either. Somebody had caused the guard to

allow the would-be assassin to pass, and whoever that

was, they did not wish their involvement known, Xizor

was also sure of that.

He considered it. His enemies were legion, were

myriad, at the very least, and many of them would happily

see him dead. A single guard would be easy enough

to bribe and get rid of; a hundred of his foes here on

Coruscant might be in a position to do that.

Who hated him the most? A difficult question, there

being so many.

Who was likely to have the nerve to make such an

attempt? Here was another matter. Black Sun was

nearly invulnerable, and while many would cheerfully

lop off its leader's head if they thought they could get

away with it, not many would be so certain they could

do the deed undetected. So narrow that down to somebody

powerful, somebody who might, should it become

known, survive not only Black Sun's wrath, but

the possible ire of the Emperor himself.

Well, that narrowed it down a whole lot more.

Xizor leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

This was a little game he sometimes played with

himself, pretending that he was using reason and logic

to arrive at a conclusion he had already made intu-

S H A D O W S OF T H E EMP I R E 63

itively. He knew who had caused the attack, just as he

knew it had not really been meant to succeed. It was no

more than a small thorn set in his path, a tiny sticker

upon which he was to step and be irritated, no more.

A small grief offered to his person by a man who

feared neither Black Sun nor the Emperor's displeasure.

There was only one such man.

Xizor was tempted to hire a dozen assassins, not tell

them who their target was, and loose them on Vader.

The killers would fail, of course, be squashed like ins.

ects by Vader with less effort than Xizor had expended

on the man in the walkway. Vader could kill with a

wave of his hand, though he enjoyed a chance to use

his lightsaber from time to time.

But—no. That might foul Xizor's plans to appear to

be Vader's friend—or at least, not his enemy. If Xizor

could figure out who had been party to the pathetic

attempt on his life without any evidence save his feeling,

Vader could also determine who might be brave

enough to send shooters after him.

Certainly he would be quick to at least consider that

it was a retaliation in kind for the attack on Xizor.

No. Satisfying as it might be to worry Vader with an

attack, it would not be prudent, given the larger plan.

But it was good to know that Vader disliked him

enough to want to see him dead.

Leia laughed. "That's your plan?"

Luke looked indignant. "What's wrong with it?"

His breath made fog-vapor in the cold room.

"You and Rogue Squadron will attack the Imperial

Enclave, keep a hundred and some-odd TIE fighters

and two Star Destroyers busy while Dash leads the Millennium

Falcon to where Boba Fett's ship is docked?

We'll just land, rescue Han, and fly away? Why, nothing

is wrong with that plan. What could I possibly be

thinking was wrong? It's perfect." She shook her head.

64 S TAR WARS

"Okay, so it's simple—" Luke began.

"Simpleminded," Leia said.

He set his jaw. Uh-oh. She'd insulted his manhood.

She knew that look.

"If you have a better idea . . . ?" Luke said, his

voice tight.

Leia sighed. That was the problem. She didn't have a

better idea. Luke's plan was straightforward, and while

it might be foolhardy enough to get them all cooked by

Imperial turbolasers, it might also be just crazy enough

to work. If she were the local commander, she'd never

expect anybody to do anything so stupid. "Well . . . "

she began.

"That's what I thought," Luke said. There was a

small note of triumph in his voice when he said it, too.

"Not to put a governor on your drive or anything,"

Dash said, "but if we're going to sneak in the back

way, it'll take some pretty fancy flying. Treetop-level

stuff to avoid local sensors. Might have to drop into

the Grand Trench canyons." He looked at Lando.

"Even if that piece of Corellian junk you're in doesn't

fall apart, you think you can manage it?"

Lando said, "You flew it? 7 can fly it."

"Yeah, well, I was in the Outrider when I did it."

"The Millennium Falcon has had a few modifications

since I owned her," Lando said.

Chewie said something.

"That right?" Dash said. "Where'd you get sublight

engines that fast?"

Chewie said something else, waved his left arm.

Dash grinned. "Yeah, I guess Solo would be dumb

enough to do something like that." He nodded at Luke

and Wedge. "Okay. If you can keep the TIE fighters

and the Destroyers busy, I can get Lando to where

Boba Fett's ship is."

Chewie said something. Leia figured she knew what

it meant. He was offering to go along.

"You don't have to, pal," Lando said.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 65

Chewie spoke again.

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Count me in, too," Leia said.

"I don't know if that's a good idea—"

Leia interrupted him. "You don't think the Imperial

commander is going to send all his TIEs out to deal

with a dozen X-wings, do you? He's bound to have

somebody on the planet. If they start shooting at the

Falcon, you'll need somebody to shoot back. If Chewie

is in the dorsal turret, who is going to cover your

belly?"

Lando and Luke looked at each other. Luke

shrugged. "She's right. And she's a good shot."

"Thank you," Leia said.

"Okay, I guess that's it," Wedge said. "The boys'll

be glad to fly under your command for this mission,

Luke."

"Thanks, Wedge."

Dash said, "Want to see something, kid?"

Luke looked at him.

"Through that door there."

Luke walked toward the door. Curious, Leia followed

them.

Dash opened the door, into another large, hangarlike

room.

"Wow," Luke said.

Leia looked through the doorway.

A ship sat perched on the cheap plastic flooring. It

had smooth lines, heavy cannon mounted above and

below, and it shined with a dark gleam, like chrome. It

was almost the size of the Millennium Falcon and had

an offset cockpit module, but that was as close as it

got. This ship was a top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art

craft; Leia had seen enough ships to recognize that it

was something special.

A droid stood next to it, a stripped-down skeletal

model with a tool bag slung over one shoulder.

"The Outrider," Dash said. "And my droid, an LE-

66 STAR WARS

BO2D9—he answers to 'Leebo,' when he bothers to

answer at all. He thinks he's funny."

"How'd you afford a ship like that?" Luke said.

"Well, it wasn't clean living. You like it?"

Luke nodded. Leia could see he itched to inspect the

vessel, to climb into it, to see what it would do with

him at the controls.

Like boys with an expensive toy, she thought. She

hoped the mercenary who owned it could fly half as

well as he claimed. This didn't sound as if it was going

to be an easy trip.

Leia stared at the Outrider. She was about to risk

her life again, and that wasn't something you got used

to doing, even when it was necessary. That she was

going to risk it to rescue Han somehow made it worse.

That she would be that . . . vulnerable, to want

something—no, someone—so badly was scarier still.

She could justify putting herself at risk for the Alliance;

that was of galactic importance. But to do it for the

love of a man . . . ?

She'd never thought it would happen. Her dedication

to the Alliance, to defeating the Empire, had never

allowed for much of a personal life. Oh, sure, there had

been friends, even some with whom she'd been close,

but she had always thought that her life would be spent

fighting against the Emperor and his evil. She'd never

seen herself falling in love, settling down, having a

home or children. Probably that wouldn't happen anyway,

given all that could get in the way, but at least it

was a possibility now. Assuming they could find and

free Han. Assuming they could escape and not get

killed in the process.

Assuming Han had any real interest in her. He

hadn't said the words. She'd believed he felt the same

thing, but he hadn't said it.

Big assumptions, those.

Well. They'd just have to see. One thing at a time.

One thing at a time.

7

Darth Vader held his lightsaber firmly, wrists locked,

and watched the killer droid circle to its left. The droid

was a new model, one of a dozen identical units constructed

to his personal specifications. Like Vader, it

also held a lightsaber. It was tall, spindly, looked something

like the general-purpose Asps to be found all over

the Empire, but with a number of special modifications.

The unit was faster than an ordinary man, stronger,

programmed with the knowledge of a hundred sword

masters and a dozen different fighting styles. Against a

normal person, the droid would be unbeatable and

deadly—

The droid stepped in fast and cut at Vader's head.

Vader blocked, and the droid chopped again, circling

the humming blade in a second cut at Vader's side.

Fast, but again a block—

The droid's third attack came from the opposite side

as its blade flashed in a large half circle—

68 S TAR WARS

Vader parried and riposted, angling a slash at the

droid's head—

The droid blocked and slid back a meter, out of

range, blade held over its head, point angled down.

The slight ache in Vader's shoulder where Luke had

cut through his armor during their fight was definitely

better. He hardly felt any soreness at all with that series.

He moved in, swung a feint at the droid's neck,

twisted his wrists, and pivoted the lightsaber for a second

feint at the same side, then a third feint, a jab at

the midsection.

The droid stepped back and crossblocked the final

feint—

Vader V-stepped to his left, cocked his blade over his

left shoulder, and hacked forty-five degrees at the base

of the metal neck—

The droid's block was a quarter second slow. Strong

as it was, it was not strong enough to offset the power

and momentum of Vader's strike. The blades met,

hissed and sparked, but Vader's sword shoved the

droid's blade to the side. It tried to backpedal—

Too late. The lightsaber hit midway between the

droid's neck and shoulder joint, sheared through the

exoframe and halfway through the chest. Circuitry

sparked, shorted out. Sparks and acrid smoke erupted

from the droid's body. It dropped the lightsaber as its

hand controls died. Fell to its knees.

Vader cocked the weapon over his right shoulder

and swung in a flat horizontal arc—

The lightsaber sliced through the droid's neck and

took its head off. The head fell, bounced, and the

droid's decapitated body fell backward.

Vader stood over the downed droid. Soon he would

have to order another dozen of them produced—this

was the eighth one of the originals; he had but four left.

And the next batch would need to be improved. It was

getting too easy.

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 69

His shoulder definitely felt better.

He shut off his lightsaber and turned away from the

droid.

An aide stood in the doorway, looking impressed

and nervous.

"Clean up the mess," Vader said.

He strode away. He did not look back.

Inside his X-wing, Luke took a deep breath. "You

ready, Artoo?"

Artoo whistled assent.

"This is Rogue Leader," Luke said. "Lock your foils

into attack position, accelerate to sub-six and acknowledge."

"Rogue One, copy," Wedge said over the comm.

"Rogue Two, that's affirmative, lock and load."

"Rogue Three, I copy."

The rest of the squadron acknowledged Luke's orders.

They were ready, as ready as they were going to

get. The dayside Destroyer lay dead ahead, and by now

its long-range sensors would have spotted the incoming

X-wings, and the commander would have started

scrambling his fighter force. The latest TIE fighters

were a couple of sublight units faster than an unmodified

X-wing, TIE interceptors faster still, but they

couldn't get to top speed immediately, so Rogue Squadron

would get one relatively free pass at the Destroyer

before the TIEs got clear and moving. Not that they'd

be able to do much to the Destroyer with fighter-wattage

laser cannons or proton torpedoes; Destroyer

shields and armor were too thick. But a lucky shot

might do a little damage, and it would make the Imperials

keep their heads down—they couldn't know if the

Alliance might have outfitted its snub fighters with

some new weapon. It would make them sweat a little.

TIEs were faster but no more maneuverable, and the

X-wings had the advantage in shielding—TIEs didn't

70 STAR WARS

have any, save for a few of the specially equipped interceptors,

like the one Vader had.

"Here they come," Rogue Six said. That was Wes

Janson, an old hand.

A score of TIE fighters spewed from the Destroyer's

flight bay ports.

"I see them, Wes," Luke said. "Everybody stay

alert!"

Took them long enough, Luke thought. Must have

thought it was a drill; they probably don't get much

action out here. Maybe they'd gotten fat and lazy.

Well. He could hope they had.

"Double up on the forward shields," Luke ordered.

"Attack speed, targets of opportunity."

"Yeeehhaaawww!" one of the squad yelled into the

comm.

Luke had to smile. He really should tell whoever it

was—sounded like Rogue Five, that was Dix—to bottle

the unofficial commspeak, but he knew just how the

pilot felt.

There was nothing else in the universe that felt like

flying into combat.

"Watch yourselves," Luke said.

Then he was cutting across the Destroyer's axis, laser

cannons spitting high-energy beams, no time to talk

now.

The battle was joined.

On the Millennium Falcon, Leia crouched down behind

Chewie and Lando in the control cockpit.

Threepio stood behind them, braced more or less in the

doorway.

"Do be careful, Master Lando. We're awfully close

to the tops of those trees!"

"Oh, really?" Lando said. "I hadn't noticed."

"Well. There's no need for sarcasm."

Ahead of them a couple hundred meters, Dash flew

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 71

the Outrider, and the wind of his passage was enough

to fan the tall evergreens below; you could see the air

wake ripple through the foliage. The chrome-silver ship

cleared the tops of the highest trees by no more than

five meters.

"Any closer and we'll get green stains on our belly,"

Leia said.

"Tell me about it," Lando said. "He said we'd have

to fly low but I didn't realize he meant this low.

Chewie, what's our altitude?"

Chewie looked at a control panel and said something

in that half gargle, half moan of his.

"Oh, my!" Threepio said.

"Do I want to know?" Leia said.

"I don't think so," Lando said.

Over the comm on a shielded opchan, Dash spoke.

"You nervous back there, Calrissian?"

Lando glanced at Chewie. "Who, us? Nah. I thought

you said we were going to be flying low, Dash. We're

practically in the stratosphere way up here." He cut the

comm off.

Lando grinned at Chewie. "Guess I told him, didn't

I?"

Dash didn't respond in words; instead, the Outrider

dropped four meters lower. If a passenger on the smuggler's

ship could have reached through the floor, he

would have been able to touch the tops of the trees

with his fingertips.

He's crazy, Leia thought.

"He's crazy," she said.

"Yeah, but he can fly, you got to hand him that,"

Lando said. "Give me a little more thrust, Chewie." ,

"Master Lando! What are you doing'?"

"I can't let him think he's scared us, can I?"

"Certainly you can!" Threepio said. "He has!"

"You're crazier than he is," Leia put in.

The Millennium Falcon lost four meters of altitude.

Chewie said something.

72 S TAR WA R S

Threepio said, "Oh, dear!"

"What?" Leia asked.

Threepio waved his arms. "He says that another

centimeter and we'll snag the laser cannon!"

Leia shook her head. "What's with this guy? What's

he trying to prove?"

Lando concentrated on his flying—that was good—

so he didn't look at her as he spoke. "You never heard

the story of the Rendars?"

"Should I have?"

Chewie yelled something.

"I see it, I see it!" Lando said. The ship lifted a meter

to avoid a particularly tall tree directly in its path.

After they'd cleared it, Lando continued. "Dash was

at the Imperial Academy, a year or so behind Han. His

family was wealthy and highly placed. Dash's older

brother was a freighter pilot working his way up

through the family shipping company. There was an

accident. A control system blew out, not the pilot's

fault, and the freighter crashed on liftoff from the Coruscant

spaceport. Killed the crew, destroyed the ship."

Leia nodded. "Terrible. So?"

Chewie started to speak, but Lando beat him to it.

"I see it. Do you want to fly it?"

Chewie grunted. Leia didn't need to speak Wookiee

to understand that one.

"Then be quiet and let me do it."

The Falcon did another little hop behind the Outrider,

settled back into its dangerous dance with the

treetops.

"So, the building the freighter hit was the Emperor's

private museum. Had a lot of his mementos in it. Most

of them were lost in the ensuing fire.

"The Emperor was not happy. He had the Rendar

family's property seized, then had them banished from

Coruscant. That included Dash. They kicked him out

of the Academy on Carida and off that planet, too."

Leia ground her teeth. That kind of thing was one of

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 73

the reasons the Alliance was fighting the Empire. No

one should have that much power, that he could arbitrarily

do such things unchecked. And Leia knew of

worse, knew of much worse. The Death Star had destroyed

her homeworld, killed millions, as a test of its

power. Just to see if it worked. It had meant nothing to

the Empire, less grief than swatting a fly.

"I can see that he wouldn't have any love for the

Empire," Leia said. "Why isn't he working for the Alliance?"

Lando shrugged. "He doesn't want to owe anybody,

doesn't want anybody to owe him. He works for whoever

pays the most. He's downright magic with anything

that flies, and he can pick wing nuts off a

tabletop with a blaster without scorching the finish.

He's a good man to have at your back when the going

gets hot—as long as your money lasts."

Leia nodded. The Empire had ruined a lot of good

people. Looked as if Dash Rendar was one more casualty.

Four TIE fighters roared in, spewing death.

Luke yelled at Wedge. "Rogue One, look out! On

your port, bearing three-oh-five!"

Wedge's X-wing immediately peeled left and down.

"Thanks, Luke!"

Luke punched it, swung a shallow turn, and headed

straight for the attacking quad.

Use the Force, Luke.

Luke grinned. The first time he'd heard that, during

the attack on the Death Star, he hadn't understood. He

knew what it meant now.

"Targeting sensors off, rear shields off, reroute more

power to the guns."

Artoo was not pleased and said so.

"Sorry, buddy, but this way is better."

Luke reached out. The Force was here, as it was ev-

74 S TAR WARS

erywhere, and it was no harder to touch deep in space

than it was in the swamps on Dagobah. He let it fill

him.

The TIE fighters suddenly seemed to be moving

slower. Luke's hands flew over the controls; he moved

the stick with sharp and precise movements. Swung to

his starboard and lit the lasers, double-tapped the fire

button.

Lines of fire lanced out and shattered one, two of the

four TIE fighters. The explosion spat a hard spray of

wreckage at him as Luke looped away. Shards of the

destroyed TIEs sleeted against the X-wing's transparisteel

canopy, a metal and plastic hail.

"Fine shootin', Rogue Leader," Rogue Five said.

"Thanks, Dix."

"More coming in, six blips at one-seven-five,"

Rogue Four said.

"Watch your back, Luke!" somebody said. "You got

a tail!"

But Luke had already felt the approach of the TIE

and had put his fighter into a hard downturn. He flew

an outside loop and came up behind the TIE.

Luke stroked his fire button once, and the TIE shattered

into expensive scrap.

"Rogue Two, you got a pair of 'em coming in at

two-two-four, move it!"

"Ah, copy that, Wes. I owe you one."

"Pay me back later."

The X-wings and TIE fighters streaked back and

forth through the blackness of space, tossing incandescent

spears of hard light at each other.

"I'm hit," Rogue Two said. "Got my Artoo unit and

punched a hole in my canopy. I've got a patch here

. . . Okay, the leak is plugged."

"Break off and return to base, Rogue Two," Luke

said.

"Hey, I can still shoot and I got manual."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 75

"Negative, Will, there's too many for that. Take a

walk."

Artoo whistled rapidly.

"Doesn't apply to me," Luke said. "I've got an

edge."

"Copy, Rogue Leader. Rogue Two returning to

base. Good luck, guys! I'll put the kettle on for tea."

Two more TIEs came at Luke, and he moved instinctively,

pulled the stick and soared away from the attackers

at almost ninety degrees, then looped at the top

and dropped back toward the attackers in a power

dive, lasers blinking.

One of the TIEs exploded; the other's engine flamed

and went out, and the wounded TIE coasted out of the

fight without main power.

"Here comes another wave," Wedge said. "Twelve

blips at three-zero-three and closing fast."

The odds were getting worse, the dangers increasing

by the second, and Rogue Squadron was down one

member. Things didn't look good.

Despite that, Luke was having a great time. He

might not be much of a Jedi, but he could fly.

He hoped Lando and Leia and Chewie were doing

okay.

Acceleration pulled at his body as he swung the

X-wing into a hard power turn.

The battle continued.

8

Late afternoon shaded into evening as Xizor left the

house of his mistress, an almost palatial dwelling he

had bestowed upon her as a going-away gift, though

she did not yet know the affair was over. Xizor never

spent more than a few months with any female. Because

of his hormonal makeup, his ability to produce

overwhelmingly powerful pheromones, he never had

any trouble attracting new companions. But because it

was so easy, he quickly tired of them, no matter how

beautiful, no matter how clever. He had never found a

companion he could consider his equal, and if he ever

did, well, how would he be able to trust someone that

adept? An interesting conundrum.

Moreover, once a meal was eaten, no matter how

delicious, he preferred to dine on a different delicacy

the next time . . .

A warm rain drizzled down from a condensation

cloud hanging low over this section of the city. Such

microweather cells were quite common at this season; a

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 77

short distance away the skies might be crystal clear. As

the darkness thickened and where clouds did not interfere,

one could view the colorful discharge auroras and

the red and blue running lights of the constant stream

of ship traffic going to and coming from orbit, even

here in the center of the cityglow.

The two bodyguards waiting at the exit accompanied

Xizor to his armored luxury coach, where two

more guards and the droid chauffeur waited. Xizor entered

the vehicle and leaned back on the cloned-leather

seat. His mistress would receive a call from Guri

shortly, a generous severance payment and good wishes

for her future. She would also be told never to attempt

to contact Xizor again. Should she do so, the consequences

would be . . . dire.

Thus far, only one of his ex-companions had tried to

see him after their arrangement had been terminated.

That unfortunate woman, he was told, had become

part of a tall commercial plex on the Southern Enclave,

courtesy of a giant factorylike construction droid that

had somehow, alas, accidentally mixed her in with a

vat of duracrete.

Life was full of dangers, even here.

"We'll have dinner at the Menarai," Xizor told the

droid.

The coach lifted and swung smoothly up into the

traffic pattern, bracketed front and back by bodyguards

in their own airspeeders. The trio of vehicles

reached cruising altitude and headed for Monument

Park, where the planet's single uncovered mountain

peak jutted above the surface's otherwise all-encompassing

building complex. There was a restaurant that

catered to the wealthy and powerful on a spire near the

park, and from the shelter of the building one could

view the mountain, even see through the restaurant's

transparisteel walls the religious fanatics who maintained

vigil over the peak to prevent tourists from stealing

the bare rock for souvenirs. One booked

78 S TAR WA R S

reservations for the Menarai months in advance and

then only if one's name was on the approved list. It was

the most exclusive restaurant on the planet.

Exclusive, but even so, no matter how crowded the

Menarai, no matter how it might upset a rich man to

see an empty space when he'd waited months for a

chance to dine there, a place was always kept open for

Prince Xizor. If he took it upon himself to drop in, he

was ushered to his private booth without delay. To

most of the diners, Xizor would be simply another

wealthy shipping magnate, no more important than a

thousand other rich beings in the Imperial Center. They

would wonder why he deserved such treatment when

they did not—given that many of the patrons had more

credits in their accounts than Xizor, at least in his guise

of shipper.

None of them had more money than Black Sun.

Besides, Xizor was one of the place's owners, though

that was not common knowledge, and word had

filtered down from the top: If Prince Xizor has to wait

to be seated, the manager who allows such stupidity to

occur will be looking for another job before he can

stammer an apology. If he is lucky.

Xizor smiled as the coach looped away from the

central nexus toward the mountain. He did not often

flaunt his power, but good food was one of his small

pleasures, and there was no cuisine better than that of

the Menarai.

The rain had stopped, and now the shadows of night

condensed and intensified. Soon Coruscant would be

ablaze with its own light, quite a view from a ship as it

approached from space. Nowhere else in the galaxy

had nearly the entire surface of a world been covered

with the building blocks of civilization. To live here

was truly an experience, to be at the center of everything.

Coruscant was the Empire's acme; the head of

Black Sun could hardly live anywhere else.

Now. What should he have for dinner? The fleek-eel

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 79

was good. Kept alive until the moment of being dipped

in boiling pepper oil, the eels would have been lightyears

away and swimming in the Hocekureem Sea that

same morning. Also, the stuffed yam and plicto steak

was excellent, as was the Giant Ithorian snail in flounut

butter. Or perhaps the Kashyyyk land shrimp?

So many choices, none of them bad. Well. Rather

than order in advance, perhaps he would just wait until

he arrived at the restaurant and decide then. True, he

would have to wait for it to be prepared, but then,

patience was one of his virtues, after all.

Yes. That was what he would do. He would be . . .

spontaneous.

It would be refreshing.

Heads up, boys, another wave coming in," Luke

said into his comm.

"Copy that, Rogue Leader," came a chorus in return.

"Uh-oh, I see a couple of TIE interceptors in this

squad," Wedge said.

"I got 'em, Wedge," Luke said. He leaned on the

stick and put the X-wing into a sharp turn to port.

Interceptors were faster, and the newer ones wore

heavier guns. He hoped the Force would stay with him.

This was getting trickier by the moment. He couldn't

afford to fail; Han's rescue depended on his keeping

things going—not to mention the Rogues and his own

life.

He hoped Leia and Lando were doing okay wherever

they were.

Lando flew past jagged outcroppings of reddish rock

that looked like giant fangs. The Falcon zipped through

a three-sided tunnel with what seemed like very little

80 STAR WARS

clearance below and to both sides. The sky above was

like the surface of a river, blue and serene.

Threepio said, "I think perhaps one of my circuits is

overheating. I really ought to sit down and power off."

But the droid didn't move. Like the rest of them, he

seemed hypnotized by the flight through the canyon.

There was a long-range Imperial sensor post at the

edge of the great plateau into which these deep canyons

had been carved by time and water, Dash had said. The

only way to avoid being spotted was to sneak in below

the sensor scan.

It reminded Leia of Han's desperate flight into the

asteroid field after they'd fled Hoth, and the hiding

place into which they'd scurried to avoid being captured

by Vader—a place that had turned out to be

something other than what it had first seemed.

Ahead of them, the Outrider flew. As Leia watched,

the ship rolled, twisted on its long axis like a screw.

"Oh, man," Lando said. "A couple meters either

way and we're bugs on a canopy and Dash is doing

barrel rolls. He is crazy."

Chewie said something.

"I hear that," Lando said.

Threepio translated for Leia: "Chewbacca says that

Master Dash must be part bird."

Leia found herself nodding. Lando had been right.

Whatever else he was, Dash Rendar could fly.

Luke kept the Rogues spiraling in and out, drifting

the skirmish several degrees one way, then the other, to

keep the Destroyer's big guns from locking on them.

They were doing okay so far.

"Look out, Dixie!" Wedge yelled.

Luke saw the danger. A TIE fighter had gotten below

Dix and now bored in, firing at the X-wing's exposed

belly. Dix cut hard to his right and began a sharp

starboard turn—

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 81

Too late. The deadly lasers raked the X-wing like

fiery claws and ripped into it.

Dix's ship blew apart in a fireball that ate the craft's

oxygen, then winked out, leaving nothing but blasted

and ionized wreckage.

Luke felt his stomach roil. Oh, no. They'd lost Dix.

Suddenly it wasn't a game. People were dying. Good

people. He could never lose sight of that, not for a moment.

It was only fun as long as nobody got hurt and

that part never lasted. War was ugly. It got bad.

Now it got worse. The nightside Destroyer came

around the terminator and began unloading its fighters.

No more time to think, no time to worry. Luke

abandoned himself to the Force.

lerminator coming up," Dash said. "And we're

past the plateau's sensor station. Ready to go up top?"

"I was just beginning to enjoy this," Lando said.

"But I suppose if we have to . . ."

They were approaching the nightside of the moon,

and while the darkness wouldn't hide them from Imperial

sensors, it would offer them some cover from curious

eyes.

"We're about four minutes away from the shipyard,"

Dash said over the comm. "Any luck at all and

the tooloos operating the scopes there won't notice us

until we're a minute or so out. Time they get their fighters

scrambled, we'll be right on top of 'em."

"Copy," Lando said.

Leia felt her stomach twist, go fluttery. The flight so

far had been dangerous, but this was going to be a

whole lot more so.

Lando shook his head, said, "This was not my idea,

right? I want it on record that this was not my idea."

Dark shadows began to paint the rock, lengthening

so fast they could see them move as the Falcon flew

deeper into night.

82 STAR WARS

"Going up," Dash said.

The Outrider lifted from the canyon.

"Blast!" Lando said.

Directly ahead of them, no more than a few hundred

meters and getting closer fast, the canyon ended in a

wall of dark rock.

Chewie roared.

Lando didn't bother to answer as he pulled the Falcon

up in a climb that made Leia's stomach feel a lot

worse.

They missed the collision by centimeters.

"Oh, better be careful," Dash said as the Falcon rose

into the night. "Did I mention the canyon dead-ends

pretty soon?"

"Just wait, Rendar," Lando said. "Next time I see

you I'm going to punch you in the nose!"

"Yeah? You and what army?"

Chewie snarled.

Leia could figure that out easily enough.

Over the comm, Dash Rendar laughed.

Wedge's voice over the comm seemed calm, but there

was a lot of emotion under it. "Luke, we aren't going

to be able to keep this dance going much longer. Once

that second Destroyer sets up a south pole, we'll be in

range of the big guns on one or the other."

"I hear you," Luke said. "Artoo, would they have

had time to make it to the yard yet?"

Artoo whistled. Luke glanced at his sensor screen,

saw the translation of the droid's whistles. They could

have made it, but barely.

"One more minute," Luke said. "Then let's make a

pass at the daysider and get out of here."

"Copy, Luke. You heard the man. Let's throw a few

more rocks and keep 'em jumping."

Around Luke, TIE fighters and interceptors swarmed

like saurian hornets from a disturbed nest. The Rogues

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 83

had taken out a score of them, maybe more, and lost

one of their own, plus another one damaged. Good flying,

but given the odds, they couldn't keep it up forever.

He had to hope they had bought enough time.

A TIE fighter appeared in front of Luke, coming

right at him.

Luke thumbed his own fire button, and the two craft

sped directly at each other. Neither pilot blinked.

The TIE exploded, and Luke flew through the fireball.

Artoo's exclamation sounded like "Yeeooww!"

"You okay, Artoo?"

The droid whistled. Yes, he was okay. He had been

better, however.

Luke smiled. The party was getting raucous. It was

time to pack it up and leave.

There it is, dead ahead," Dash said.

The lights of the shipyard blazed in the darkness, a

beacon visible for a long way.

"We'll pass right over your target in . . . thirty seconds."

Leia leaned forward. Strained to see . . .

"There it is! There's Fett's ship!"

"Been fun, people," Dash said. "See you around."

Ahead of them, the Outrider pulled up in a hard

climb and rocketed toward space.

"Where are you going?" Lando said.

"Hey, you didn't pay me to shoot, only to guide. I'm

outta here."

"Dash, blast you!"

"Never mind," Leia put in quickly. "We don't need

him."

Chewie pointed at the sensor screen and said something.

"Oh, dear!" Threepio said.

"I wish you'd stop saying that," Leia said. "What?"

84 STAR WAR S

Lando spoke before the droid could. "Company.

We've got half a dozen TIE fighters on our tail!"

"Is that all? For a hotshot pilot like you, that

shouldn't be a problem, right?"

Lando shook his head. "Yeah, right. But just for fun,

why don't you and Chewie go see if the guns still

work?"

The Wookiee came up. Leia was already on the way.

"I'll take the dorsal turret," she said.

Chewie growled, and she took that for agreement.

Now things were really going to get interesting.

9

Luke . . . ?" Wedge said over the comm.

"Right, Wedge. Rogue Squadron, this is Rogue

Leader. Break off your attack, go to lightspeed—repeat,

break off and jump to hyper!"

The leap into hyperspace was a trick—they weren't

going far enough to need it, and they'd reenter normal

space in a few seconds. But better that the Imperial

fighters thought they were going far away; maybe nobody

would bother to look for them at a moon just

around the bulk of the huge gas planet right in front of

them. That was the hope.

Rogue Squadron peeled away from the engagement

in a shallow arc.

The TIE fighters, who'd obviously been ordered to

defend but not to pursue, allowed them to go. Most of

them.

As the Rogues sped from the battle, Luke felt a sudden

wave of something he couldn't quite identify wash

86 STAR WARS

over him. Like a sense of danger that couldn't be ignored,

some kind of warning—

Luke!

Obi-Wan!

He jerked the control stick between his knees to the

side without questioning further.

The beam from a laser cannon flashed past.

If he hadn't moved it would have cooked him.

But there weren't any TIEs behind him! Only Rogue

Six. As he watched, Wes's X-wing altered course to follow

him. What—?

"Wes! What are you doing"

Wes yelled, a short burst of expletives, then, "Luke!

Something's gone wrong with my Artoo unit! It's taken

control of my ship! My stick is dead!"

Yeah, Luke thought, /'// be dead, too, if I don't do

something!

To complicate things, one of the TIE fighters who

decided to give chase did get within range. The TIE let

loose with a blast of its weapons, barely missing Luke.

Luke pulled the stick back into his belly and hit full

thrust. The X-wing responded; acceleration mashed

him into the seat; his face stretched and flattened as if a

giant hand pressed hard fingers against the skin and

muscles.

"Everybody get clear!" Luke managed to say

through peeled-back lips. What was going on? He'd almost

been fried, by one of his own! At the moment, he

couldn't think about it—but he couldn't not think

about it, either.

He could have died. If not for the Force, he would

have died. Whatever he might have been would never

have come to pass—

Behind him, Wes's X-wing replicated Luke's maneuver,

trying to stay with him.

The TIE fighter kept shooting, too.

Blast!

This was bad, this was very bad. What was he going

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 87

to do? He couldn't fight, not one of his own people!

And if all he did was run, sooner or later the out-ofcontrol

X-wing would blast him.

First things first. The TIE fighter.

Luke looped around, trying to shake Wes and lock

on to the TIE at the same time.

He didn't manage either very well. The TIE fighter

zipped away, and Wes kept shooting at Luke.

Luke felt the sweat seeping from him, soaking his

suit. He wasn't prepared for this; it had never crossed

his mind.

If Wes could bail out, that would solve it. Thing

was, he couldn't eject; like the others, he wore only a

lightweight flight suit, not suitable for protection

against the vacuum of deep space—

Another blast of laser fire stabbed out from the pursuing

X-wing.

Missed, barely!

The TIE fighter swung around. Probably didn't have

any idea what was going on, but he was going to take

advantage of it for sure.

Luke felt himself gripped by the fear, an icy sensation

that turned the perspiration cold. What was he

going to do? He had to figure it out, and he had to

figure it out fasti

He had an idea. It was risky, but his choices were

getting real limited.

Here goes—

At the apex of his climb, Luke killed his thrust and

shoved the control stick forward. Inertia kept the craft

going, but its relative speed compared to Wes's out-ofcontrol

craft made it seem to stop as Rogue Six rocketed

past before his malfunctioning R2 unit could

compensate.

The TIE fighter had looped and was opposite Wes,

trying to track Luke.

Luke punched in full thrust again and swung the

88 STAR WARS

stick hard to port, spiraling away in a left turn. He

gave the little ship all it—or he—could take.

The TIE fighter ran into Wes's fire and shattered.

That was something, at least.

Luke felt better, but it wasn't over yet.

He jockeyed the X-wing around. Wes copied his

move and fired.

Luke had never asked the X-wing for more.

Artoo shrilled, and Luke tuned it out. He had to

trust the Force now; normal skill wouldn't get him out

of this.

He dodged.

Another blast cooked the vacuum.

Luke stalled and dived.

Wes's ship hammered at him, splashing a glancing

shot off the rear shields.

He had to shake him!

Come on, come on—

He knew the Force was powerful, but he wasn't sure

his control of it was enough. A mistake and a good

man would die.

A mistake and they might both die.

He focused himself. Cut hard to port, then starboard,

gave his engines full power, pulled up and into

an inside loop, circled down and behind Wes, almost

blacking out from the G-force . . .

Help me, Obi-Wan.

Luke fired . . . "

The beam splashed against the runaway X-wing's

main engine precisely, cut through and killed it.

Rogue Six's thrusters flamed out.

Luke was close enough to see the R2 unit on Wes's

ship try to effect repairs as he flew by, but it surely

wasn't going to fix that.

Rogue Six couldn't fly very well, but it could still

shoot.

It did shoot, tracking him and lancing out with pow-

S H A D O W S OF THE EMP I R E 89

erful beams. Like a wounded firecat, it was still dangerous

to approach.

Luke dodged, abandoned himself to the Force again,

let the X-wing become an extension of his body. The

little ship danced, hopped, slowed, sped up, and managed

to avoid being speared.

Luke felt the sigh slip from him.

Steady . . .

Luke made another pass.

Wes's R2 blasted at him. Luke imagined he felt the

heat of the beam.

Maybe it wasn't his imagination.

Come on . . .

"More of those TIEs coming back, Luke," somebody

said.

"Not now!" Once again he let the Force direct his

aim, gave himself to it. Pinpointed the targeting sensors

in the nose cone. Felt the Tightness of it—

Fired again . . .

A hit!

Now Wes's guns were dead and he—or his crazed

droid—couldn't fire the lasers or the torpedoes.

Luke sighed again. Thank goodness.

What in the galaxy could have caused it to malfunction

that way?

"Wedge, see if you can get a magnetic line on Wes

and let's get out of here, fast!"

"That's affirmative, Luke."

Bad enough when it was the enemy shooting at you;

much worse when it was your own men.

"Hey, I'm sorry, Luke, I don't know what happened!"

Wes said.

"Don't worry about it. We'll sort it out later. Right

now, we'd better go before the Empire decides we

might be worth chasing after all."

"Copy that, Luke."

But now that the heat—and sweaty cold—of the in-

90 STAR WARS

cident had passed, the fear oozed back, the taste of it

sour in him.

He could have been blown apart.

If not for the Force warning him, he would have

been fried, would have winked out like an overloaded

glowbulb, never knowing what had hit him. Dead,

gone, no more.

"Those TIE fighters are coming back, Luke."

"Let's move it!"

Until now, that had never seemed a real possibility

to him. Luke had always thought that somehow all the

lasers would miss, all the missiles would sail past harmlessly,

that he would live forever. It hadn't seemed real

that he could actually cease being.

Now it seemed real.

Leia fired, and the quad-barrels of the Falcon's dorsal

guns pistoned, spat its hard energies at the incoming

TIE fighter.

The Imperial craft flew right into the beams. Exploded.

That was three she'd gotten, and Chewie had hit

some of them, too, but there were more of them

swarming in.

Too many more.

"We can't land," Lando said over the comm. "If we

put it down on the deck, we'll get blasted!"

"What are we going to do?" Leia said.

"I don't know; we can't keep flying around—uhoh."

" 'Uh-oh' what?"

"Boba Fett's ship—it's taking off."

"Follow it!"

"How? There's a wall of Imperial fighters between it

and us!"

"Go around them!"

She was too close to lose Han now.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 91

"I'll try."

The Falcon lurched, fell in a belly-twisting dive. Because

they were in a gravity well and they needed the

power for the shields, the artificial gravity was turned

off. Leia felt herself go weightless; only the safety straps

kept her from floating out of the seat. Abruptly she

grew heavier as the power dive bottomed out and

Lando hit the throttles hard in a climbing turn.

Another TIE fighter came into view. Leia started the

guns working, but the fighter zipped past, too fast.

Missed it.

She felt the Falcon rock as the shields were hit by

enemy fire.

"I sure hope that bootleg shield generator Han installed

holds up," Lando said.

Leia didn't answer; she was too busy trying to shoot

down the next pair of TIE fighters coming at her.

Her gun beams lanced out and pierced one of the

fighters, sent it spinning away, control surfaces riddled

with holes.

She missed the other one.

She heard Chewie yelling something, and she wished

she could understand him other than from context.

"I hate to be the one to say it," Lando said, "but I

have a bad feeling about this."

Dack at Rogue Squadron's secret moonbase, Luke

and Wedge hurried from their fighters to where Wes's

X-wing had been towed. Wes stood there staring at his

ruined ship.

Wedge said, "You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'd sure like to know what my

Artoo unit ate for breakfast, though. What could have

gotten into it?"

Luke hoped he looked better than he felt. He was

still rattled, his knees a little rubbery. He took a deep

breath, fought to keep his voice calm. "Why don't we

92 S TAR W A R S

see if we can find out?" he said. He waved at the crew

chief. "Get a coupler on this Artoo unit, would you?"

As the chief hustled her crew over to do just that,

Luke heard a whistle behind him.

Luke turned. "I don't know, Artoo. You ever heard

anything like it before?"

Artoo chirped and whistled.

Luke took that for a negative.

The malfunctioning R2 unit settled to the ground.

The crew chief stepped in and stuck a restraining bolt

on it before it could move.

Artoo moved closer, extruded an interface, and

plugged it into the other unit. Somebody plugged a

translation screen into the damaged R2 unit.

Artoo whistled frantically.

"Uh-oh," Luke said, looking at the translation

screen.

"What?" Wedge said.

"Look. According to this, the droid wasn't malfunctioning.

It was programmed to shoot at me."

Wedge whistled, a counterpoint to Artoo's astromechspeak.

"Who would do that? Why? How?"

The chief pulled her comlink from her belt and

spoke into it, listened. Luke couldn't hear who was on

the other end of the comlink.

"That's Rendar coming in," the chief said.

"What about Leia and Lando?"

The chief shrugged. "He didn't say."

To the chief, Luke said, "Keep an eye on this droid.

Don't let anybody touch it." To Wedge, he said, "Let's

go-"

Luke hurried to the second hangar, where Rendar's

ship would arrive shortly.

We can't get through!" Lando said. "They'll pound

us to pieces unless we get out of here! We'd better—"

His voice shut off.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 93

"Lando? Lando!"

No answer.

"Chewie?"

No answer from there, either.

The Falcon seemed to be flying okay, but the comm ,

was out.

Leia yelled, "Threepio! Where are you?"

"R-R-Right here," came Threepio's nervous voice

from above her gun turret.

"Go find out what happened to the comm. Check

and see if Lando is all right."

"Yes, Princess Leia."

Another TIE shot past. Leia fired at it, missed. The

blasted things were fast.

The Falcon swung a hard turn to the left, then the

right. Well, somebody was flying it.

Threepio leaned over her turret. "Princess Leia,

Master Lando says the comm unit has been damaged;

we no longer have internal or external communications.

Master Lando says we must leave immediately or

we'll be destroyed!" There was a tinge of hysteria in

Threepio's voice.

"We can't!" Leia said.

But they were already doing so. The Falcon arced

away from the shipyard and dived between two halfconstructed

towers, twisted so it flew sideways. The

metal support struts of one tower passed so close to

Leia's guns, she could read the part numbers stamped

into them.

"No!" she yelled.

One of the TIE fighters chasing them wasn't so well

flown. Leia saw it smash into the tower and shatter

into a fireball.

The Falcon twirled and flew parallel to the ground

again, but only for a few seconds before Lando took it

almost straight up.

Leia looked, saw they were outrunning their pursuers.

She unbuckled herself from the turret. Hurried to

94 S T A R WARS

reach the control cockpit. Threepio followed her, prattling

on about something she couldn't catch.

Lando was sweating when Leia arrived.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving our lives," he said. "I used every trick in the

manual, plus a few I made up, and I couldn't get past

those fighters. There were too many of them. It was

just a matter of time before they knocked us down."

"What about Boba Fett?"

"I lost sight of him."

"He's probably trying to run to hyperspace. Luke

and Rogue Squadron . . ." she trailed off as she realized

the problem.

"Yeah," Lando said. "Our comm is dead. We can't

call Luke to tell him to chase Boba Fett."

"Maybe we can circle around," she said.

He shook his head. "He'll be long gone."

Chewie arrived, asked a question.

"No," Lando said. "Sorry, buddy."

Chewie expressed anger.

"Yeah, me too," Lando said. "But we can't do Han

any good if we get scattered all over the landscape."

Leia felt a great weight settle upon her. Like a blanket

made of soft lead, it pressed on her; she could

hardly sit there without bowing.

Han. I'm so sorry . . .

"Listen," Lando said, "I don't want to add rocket

fuel to a burning building, but we don't even know for

sure that Han is on that ship. Boba Fett might have

stashed him somewhere."

Leia couldn't speak. It was too much effort.

Chewie said something.

"Chewbacca is right," Threepio said. "Sooner or

later Master Han will be delivered to Jabba. We can

always go back to Tatooine and wait. I think that is a

very good idea."

Nobody spoke for a moment.

Threepio continued, "Well, at least we're alive."

S H A D O W S OF THE EMP I R E 95

Luke almost took a swing at Dash; it was all he

could do to restrain himself.

Wedge saw, said, "Easy, Luke."

Dash, if he was worried, didn't show it. He stood

there, relaxed, and shrugged.

"You just left them there?"

"Hey, kid, I was paid to show them where Slave I

was. I showed them. My job was done. If they'd

wanted me to do anything else, they should have contracted

for it up front."

"If anything happens to them—"

"What, kid? You gonna shoot me? I didn't make

them go there. I was hired as a guide, so I guided, end

of story." He turned and ambled off.

Wedge kept one hand on Luke's shoulder. "Don't do

it, Luke. It won't help them."

"Maybe not, but it'll make me feel a lot better!"

Even as he felt the anger flush through him, Luke

also felt a coldness, a kind of . . . slyness within it. He

knew what it was.

Obi-Wan had warned him. He couldn't give in to his

anger. If he did, the dark side would be there to claim

him. He could feel it, waiting, ready to fill him with its

bleak and unclean energies. He could feel that to allow

it in would give him abilities he did not have, would

give him powers ordinary mortals could not withstand.

He would be able to bring Dash Rendar to his knees

with a gesture—

No. Don't even think it. To give in to the dark side

would be to become like Vader, like the Emperor, to

become that which he fought against.

He took a deep breath, and when he blew it out,

much of his anger flowed with it. Dash even had a

point: He hadn't forced anybody to do anything.

One of the sensor crew ran over to where they

stood. "We've got a ship coming in," he said. "No

96 S T A R W A R S

communications, but the scopes say it's a Corellian

freighter."

The Millennium Falcon\ They were alive!

"They're about fifteen minutes out," the man said.

Luke felt a vast relief. Leia. She was all right. Even

though he felt that he would have known if anything

had happened to her, it was still a relief to hear that the

ship was in one piece.

"That gives us a few minutes," Wedge said. "What

say we go and see what we can dig out of that rascaled

R2 unit?"

"Good idea," Luke said.

But when they reached the place where the bollixed

astromech droid had been, what they found was a

smoldering pile of debris.

Somebody had blasted the droid into rubble.

Luke spun around, looking for the crew chief who

was supposed to be watching the unit. He spotted the

woman quickly enough.

She was pointing a blaster right at him.

10

Luke saw Wedge reach for his blaster. He yelled,

"No!"

Too late.

The chief saw Wedge go for his weapon, turned

slightly, and shot at him. The blast sizzled between

Luke and Wedge, missed Luke by centimeters. He

smelled ionized and burned air as he jumped to the

side—

Wedge didn't have any choice. His blaster beam

caught her square in the center of mass and knocked

her sprawling.

The burned smell grew stronger and more unpleasant.

By the time Luke got to her, the chief wasn't going

to be answering any questions ever again.

"Well. I guess we know who rascaled the droid,"

Luke said, his voice quiet. "I would have liked to know

why."

98 S TAR WARS

Wedge shook his head. "Maybe we can find out. I'll

see what the operations computer has on her."

"Do that."

It was only a few minutes later that the Millennium

Falcon put down on the moon. Once it was stowed out

of sight inside the hangar, the hatch opened and the

ramp came down. Lando and Chewie walked down the

ramp, followed by Threepio. Where was—?

There she was. She looked terrible. She walked as if

she were a thousand years old.

"Leia?"

Her face was a study in misery. Luke moved to her,

hugged her, but she was limp in his arms. "What happened?"

"Boba Fett got away," she said.

Behind them, Lando said, "Yeah, and we were lucky

to get away ourselves. The place was thick with TIE

fighters. I'm sorry, Luke. I tried."

Chewie nodded and said something.

Luke nodded. He turned, one arm still around Leia.

Holding her thus brought up all kinds of conflicting

emotions. As if he didn't have enough to sort out about

Vader and the Force and the dark side, how he felt

toward Leia was another whole unprobed universe.

"Come on," Luke said to her. "We'll figure something

else out."

Leia was depressed, but the news of the malfunctioning

droid broke through the blanket of despair shrouding

her. It frightened her.

When Wedge and Lando came back from checking

on the former crew chief through the opcomm, they

looked grim.

"What?" she asked.

"Well," Wedge said, "it seems there was a transfer

for ten thousand credits into the chief's account a few

days ago, just after Rogue Squadron arrived here.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 99

Lando managed to access the account, using, uh, a borrowed

command override code."

"And . . . ?"

"The money came from a dummy corporation,"

Lando said. "I managed to backwalk it through two

more dummy corporations. Wound up with something

called Saber Enterprises. Last I heard, Saber was a front

organization for the Empire's secret undercover antiespionage

operations."

"You think somebody paid the chief to rig the droid

to shoot Luke?" Leia said.

"Seems awfully coincidental to me otherwise,"

Lando said.

Leia nodded. "It's got Vader's gloveprints all over

it."

Luke shook his head. "That doesn't make any

sense."

"Why not?"

"He wants me alive," Luke said. "He wants me to

join the Empire."

"Maybe he changed his mind," Lando said.

Leia stared off into the distance. This was bad. She'd

lost Han, maybe forever—no, don't think that—and

she didn't want to lose Luke, too. He was too important,

not just to the Alliance, but to her.

She loved Han, but she loved Luke, too. Maybe not

in the same way, but she didn't want to see him hurt.

She had a feeling about this, an . . . intuition. This

attempt on Luke's life was just the tip of something

much larger, something hidden under a great depth of

murky water. She had to find out what it was and stop

it.

"There was another thing," Lando said. "The chief's

account had a pending file of credit in it from the same

dummy corporation."

"Meaning what?" Luke asked.

"Meaning there was probably going to be another

transfer of funds. My guess is that the ten thousand

100 STAR WARS

was just a down payment. If you had gotten blown up

on that run, I'd also guess that a much larger amount

would have wound up in the chief's account. Sure

brings up a lot of questions, doesn't it?"

Lando looked at Wedge.

"She was going to shoot Luke," Wedge said. "Second

rule of self-defense is to shoot first and ask questions

later."

Leia turned around and looked at Lando. "What is

the first rule?"

"Be somewhere else when the shooting starts."

They looked at each other. What did all this mean?

Aizor knew that exercise was necessary, was essential

for optimum health—and it helped keep underlings in

line if they knew you were physically powerful. He

practiced martial arts now and then, but he knew that

wasn't enough. And exercise bored him. He hated to

do it. Thus it was that he sat in the myostim unit when

Guri came to see him. The unit was simple enough, a

sensor field coupled with an adjustable, computerized

electromyoclonic broadcaster. Turn it on, set the level,

and the myostim unit worked the muscles, forcing them

to contract and relax in sequence. You could get

stronger just lying there, develop powerful mass without

having to do any heavy lifting. A great toy.

Guri seemed to materialize from nowhere.

Xizor lifted an eyebrow as his thighs clenched into

hard knots, relaxed, then contracted again.

"The first attempt on Skywalker's life has failed. The

bribed crew chief is dead."

Xizor nodded as his calves hardened and softened

under the electrical stimulus.

"No surprise. We knew the boy was extremely

lucky."

"Or skillful," Guri said.

Xizor shrugged as his feet tightened and slackened.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 101

"Either way. I've had some thoughts about the matter.

Allow our agents to proceed, grease bearings as necessary.

Be certain it looks as if they are in the employ of

the Empire, linked directly to Vader. If they get

Skywalker, good. If not, I have another idea that might

be even more beneficial to us."

"As you wish."

He gestured with one arm as the stim wave began to

move back up his legs toward his belly.

"This is not our only concern. We have a business tc

run." He paused for a moment, and when he spoke

again there was a sharp edge to his voice. "Ororc

Transportation."

Guri nodded.

"I do not believe the Tenloss Syndicate knows that

Ororo is trying to take over our spice operations in the

Baji Sector. I suppose we could make them aware of it

and allow them to handle it, but that doesn't suit me. I

want you to go there and meet with Ororo. Indicate

our . . . displeasure at their ambition."

Guri nodded again.

"Before you leave, put in a comm to Darth Vader. ]

would like to see him at his convenience."

"Yes, my prince."

"That will be all."

She left, and Xizor watched his bare stomach ridge

under the hard stim contraction, forming symmetrical

and rounded rectangles. No fat coated those muscles.

Sending Guri to deal with Ororo was necessary;

greed never slept, and it was incumbent on Xizor to

make certain that everyone knew that to cross Black

Sun was to court ruin. Guri by herself would probably

be enough to knock the transportation company's leaders

back into line, but Xizor never used a wrist slap

when a hammer fist was called for. If you damage an

enemy, you should damage him enough so that he cannot

retaliate; that was a simple truth.

He had plans for Ororo, plans that would not only

102 S TAR WARS

chastise them for their stupidity but would also further

Xizor's aims on other fronts. Everything in the galaxy

was interlinked; a spark here could become a conflagration

there, if you knew how to fan it properly. He was

always looking for links, always checking to see how

an event on that side of the galaxy could be made to

serve his ends on this side. As in a tridimensional hologame,

there were small moves that would add up to

larger ones; a push at precisely the right place and exactly

the right time could, in theory, topple a mountain.

And it was his business to know when and where to

push.

Yes. Ororo would pay for its temerity, and in ways it

could not begin to imagine.

He leaned back and allowed the myostim machineries

to make him stronger.

Darth Vader stared at the hologram of Xizor's human

droid Guri.

"Very well," he said. "Tell your master I will see

him. I have business on the Emperor's skyhook. Have

him meet me there in three standard hours."

Vader broke the connection. What did Xizor want?

Whatever it was, he did not believe for a moment that

it was to serve the Empire—unless it served Xizor first.

The Dark Lord of the Sith stalked through the bowels

of his castle to where his personal shuttle was kept.

He could have taken the turbolift to the skyhook; most

passengers and cargo were moved to the giant orbiting

satellites through their tethers to the surface of the Imperial

Center; but he had not stayed alive this long by

taking foolish chances. Skyhook lifts seldom malfunctioned,

but they were vulnerable to attack, from within

and without. No, better to be in control of his own

armored craft, where the dark side could be unleashed

—along with laser cannon—if need be.

As he walked through one of his spare hallways, Va-

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 103

der considered another problem. For now, the Emperor

did not want him to hunt for Luke Skywalker, at least

not personally. While the Emperor had not yet spoken

of it directly, the construction of the new and more

powerful Death Star was behind schedule. Those in

charge offered many excuses—material, workers, constantly

changing plans—and the Emperor was growing

impatient. Vader was fairly certain that it would be

only a matter of time before the Emperor sent him to

oversee the lagging project. It was amazing how a general

who would drag his feet while out of the Emperor's

sight would suddenly learn how to run when

paid a visit from one who could call upon the dark

side. Those Imperial officers who scoffed at the Force

did so out of ignorance.

Those who did not fear the power of Darth Vader

were those who had never stood face-to-face with him.

Vader did not agree that the Death Star was the invincible

and omnipotent weapon its designers had

promised the Emperor. He had heard that tale before,

and the ill-equipped Rebel forces had shown just how

wrong that was with the first Death Star.

No, that was not strictly true. It had been Luke

Skywalker who had struck the deadly blow, proving to

Vader's satisfaction that the Force was more powerful

than the most sophisticated and deadliest technology.

But—the Emperor did not agree, and there was nothing

to be done about it. Nor was there anything to be done

about being made to wait here. What the Emperor

willed was so.

Vader reached the shuttle's bay. A guard stood at the

door.

"Is my shuttle ready to launch?"

"It is, Lord Vader."

"Good." The example he'd made of the technicians

in charge the one time it had not been ready when he

wished to use it had thus far been sufficient to keep

that from happening again.

104 STAR WARS

Vader swept past and marched toward his vessel.

Very well. He could not seek Luke out in person, but

he could arrange for others to do so. Those wheels had

already been put in motion. A very large reward and

the gratitude of Darth Vader had been offered for whoever

brought Skywalker to him alive. That would have

to do for now.

Why me?" Luke said.

They were next to the Falcon. Support techs from

Rogue Squadron moved in and out of the ship, repairing

damage done during the failed attempt on Boba

Fett's ship. The big makeshift building hadn't gotten

any warmer since they'd arrived.

Leia said, "Because it's your homeworld and you're

the most familiar with it. Somebody needs to be there

to keep an eye out for Boba Fett. You need to practice

your Jedi skills, and you need a quiet place to do it.

You're the logical choice."

Luke shook his head. He didn't like it. And he didn't

think Leia was being completely frank with him.

"Can't your Alliance business wait?" he asked.

"No. Take Artoo and go back to Ben's house. Lando

and Chewie and Threepio and I will meet you there as

soon as I am done."

Luke sighed. She was probably right, but that didn't

make it any easier. "All right. But you be careful."

After Luke had taken off in his X-wing with Artoo—

it was a long trip and they'd packed food and water for

him, though he'd be ready for a shower when he got

there—Leia spoke to Dash Rendar.

"Are you available for a job?" she asked him.

"Sweetie, I'm always available—if the money is

right."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 105

"I want you to go to Tatooine and keep an eye on

Luke."

Dash raised an eyebrow. "Bodyguard? Sure, I can do

that. Kid won't like it if he finds out."

"So stay out of sight," Leia said. "Somebody tried to

kill him, and I think they'll try again. How much?"

Dash named a figure.

Lando whistled. "Man, you are a bandit, aren't

you?"

"The best don't come cheap, Lando. In advance,

Princess."

Leia smiled. "You think so little of me, Dash? Do I

look that stupid? One-third in advance, two-thirds

when we arrive—if he's still alive."

"I can't guarantee that."

"I thought you were the best."

Dash grinned. "I am. Half up front, half when you

get there."

"All right."

After she'd paid Dash and he was gone, Leia turned •

to Lando.

"All right. Let me pose a hypothetical question."

"If you don't mind a hypothetical answer, go

ahead."

"What would be the best way to contact somebody

high up in Black Sun?"

Lando stared at her as if she'd just told him she

could fly by waving her arms. He shook his head. "The

best way? Don't."

"Come on, Lando. This is important."

"Princess, Black Sun is bad news. You don't want to

get into bed with them."

"I'm not planning on getting into bed with them. I

just want to rummage through their wardrobe chest."

"What?"

Leia said, "Somebody just tried to kill Luke. Maybe

it was Vader. Maybe not. Black Sun has a vast spynet

106 STAR WARS

of its own, older, maybe even wider than the Alliance's.

They can find out who is responsible."

Chewie half grunted, half moaned something.

"I'm with you, pal," Lando said. He exchanged

glances with Chewie. "This is a big mistake."

Leia continued. "But you have the connections and

can put me in touch with them, right?"

"It's still a bad idea."

"Lando . . . "

"Yeah, yeah. I know a few people."

She smiled. "Good. Where do we find them?"

11

The Emperor's skyhook was half again as large as

Xizor's and far more opulent. The Dark Prince preferred

to keep his best treasures on the ground; he felt

they would be safer there. Not that there was any real

danger of a skyhook dropping out of the sky—it had

happened on Coruscant but once in a hundred years,

and that had been a freakish combination of a power

failure, a solar storm, and a freighter collision.

Then again, the Emperor had a lot more treasures

than anybody else in the galaxy, and the loss even of a

city-size skyhook would be but a small pail subtracted

from his vast sea.

Xizor stood on a high, wide terrace overlooking the

central park of the huge space habitat. His bodyguards,

now at travel strength of an even dozen, formed a semicircle

from the balcony's edge with Xizor alone inside

it. Here he stared out at full-size evergreen and deciduous

trees, some of which topped thirty meters. A section

of the park immediately below him was planted

108 STAR WARS

and climate-controlled into a fecund jungle, a riot of

colorful flowers, electric reds, bright blues, phosphorescent

oranges among the verdant hues, those ranging

from the palest of greens to a broad-leafed vine whose

waxy leaves were almost black.

Xizor did not care much for botany, but he knew

good work when he saw it. Perhaps he could entice the

Emperor's gardener away for his own skyhook?

He felt Vader approach before he heard or saw him.

The man did have a presence, no doubt about that.

Xizor turned and offered a small bow. "Lord Vader."

"Prince Xizor. You had something to discuss?"

No polite small talk, no social niceties from Vader.

Almost refreshing, given some of the toadies Xizor encountered.

Almost.

"Yes. The location of a secret Rebel base has come

to my attention. I assumed you would want to know of

this."

Vader was silent save for his measured, mechanical

breathing, which suddenly seemed quite loud. Xizor

could almost see Vader's brain working, measuring,

calculating. Wondering: What was the head of Black

Sun up to?

Xizor kept his face carefully neutral for the recording

holocams he knew were watching. His, the Emperor's,

Vader's—and whoever else might be good

enough to get past the Emperor's security to be spying

on them.

"Of course," Vader finally said. "Where is this

base?"

"In the Baji Sector, out on the Rim. The Lybeya System,

hidden on one of the larger Vergesso Asteroids. It

is my understanding that there is a shipyard full of vessels

undergoing repair. Scores, perhaps hundreds, of

Rebel ships, ranging from fighters to troop carriers."

Vader said nothing.

"Destruction of such a base would no doubt greatly

cripple the Alliance," Xizor continued. A bland under-

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 109

statement, offered as if ice would not melt upon his

tongue.

Again, a protracted silence. Then: "I'll have my

agents check it out," Vader said. "If it is as you say,

then the Empire will be . . . indebted to you." -

Oh, that must have hurt, to have to say that. Xizor

gave Vader a courteous nod. "Merely my duty, Lord

Vader. No thanks are necessary."

He could almost feel Vader squirming. To have to

owe Xizor must have rankled. But what could he do? If

this report was true—and certainly it was—it was a

succulent and ripe offering. The Rebels didn't have so

many ships that they could afford to lose any, much

less an entire yard full of them. This truly was a service

to the Empire.

That the shipyard was, unknown to either the

Rebels or the Empire, owned by Ororo Transportation,

the same company that had dared tread on Black Sun's

spice operations in that sector—well, so much the better.

Here was another way to skewer two eels with one.

spear: Ororo would be much damaged, and the Emperor's

trust in Xizor would be greatly enhanced at the

same time.

It truly was an ill wave that washed no good ashore.

Vader turned and left, black cape flagging behind

him. Xizor's bodyguards prudently stepped well aside

to allow him to pass.

Vader would have to verify the report. The Emperor

would send forces to attend to the base. With any luck

at all, Vader would be the one dispatched, given the

Emperor's well-known disposition regarding such

things: You found it, you take care of it. That would

get Vader out of the way and allow Xizor a bit more

freedom to continue the unfolding of his plan.

He turned and looked down at the miniature jungle

below. Schemes were like plants in many ways. You

put them where you wanted them, fed and watered

110 STAR WARS

them, pruned them as needed, and they grew as you

expected. By and large.

He waved one of his bodyguards over.

"My lord?"

"Find out who is in charge of this." He waved at the

park. "Offer him twice the credits he is being paid to

come to work on my skyhook."

"My lord." The bodyguard bowed and hurried

away.

Xizor took a deep breath and inhaled the oxy-rich

and jungle-scented air. It smelled very alive. Like wet

mushrooms and leaf mold and fresh grasses all mixed

into a fine odor. Very alive, and he never felt more so

himself than when he was manipulating things to his

satisfaction.

Luke covered the X-wing with the camo-netting and

stood back next to Artoo. "There. That ought to do

it." From the air, the ship should be invisible, and with

all its power systems shut down and offline, a flyby

wouldn't pick it up on a quick sensor scan. Not that he

was particularly scared after the incident with the crew

chief; it just made good sense not to let passersby know

there was an Alliance ship parked here.

Heat rose from the ground in shimmery waves, and

the suns seethed and offered yet more light and warmth

than the desert could absorb. The reflections from the

sand were actinic and bright, and Luke had to squint

against the hard light. He didn't worry too much about

somebody just happening to pass by—nobody came

out here without a really good reason.

He walked back to the house—he still thought of it

as Ben's—with Artoo rolling along the bumpy ground

behind him. The short droid chirped and whistled at

him. He sounded concerned, and Luke guessed he was

talking about Leia and the others.

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 111

"Yeah, I know, I worry about them, too. But they'll

be all right."

He hoped.

Inside, Luke touched a control, and a panel of synstone

on the curved roof slid back and exposed the solar

panels hidden underneath. The house had been

running in reduced mode on battery power while he'd

been gone, and it was not much cooler inside than out.

With the panels suddenly feeding the system more

power than it could use, the air conditioner kicked on

and a welcome cool breeze blew through the small

house.

Luke felt grubby from his flight. He stripped and

took a long shower. Fortunately, the water condensers

had filled the underground tanks while he was away,

and he had enough water to lather and rinse twice.

When he was done, he felt a lot better. It was a long

hop from Gall, and he was looking forward to stretching

out and sleeping in a bed for a change.

But maybe he would just finish the facets on the

lightsaber jewel first. He had a lot to think about, and

he didn't think he would be able to take a nap just yet;

too many things buzzing around in his head. Might as

well do something useful.

He put on a robe and moved to the worktable.

Rodia?" Leia said.

"Rodia," Lando said.

They were in the Falcon, moving through hyperspace.

Chewie was asleep in the bunk behind the

lounge—the only one long enough to hold him

stretched out—and Threepio had powered down. So it

was just the two of them in the cockpit.

"Why Rodia? That's a long way from here, halfway

to Coruscant."

"I know, but that's where my contact is. Name is

Avaro; he owns a small casino in the gambling complex

112 STAR WARS

in Equator City. The complex is run by Black Sun.

Avaro will know who to contact."

"Okay."

"Might be a little tricky, though."

"Why is that?"

Lando shook his head. "Well, before Vader showed

up on Cloud City and gave him to Boba Fett, there

were other bounty hunters looking for Han. I found

out when we were poking around in Mos Eisley that a

Rodian thug named Greedo caught up with Han in one

of the cantinas there. Greedo was going to blast him

for the reward. There was a shootout. Han walked

away. Greedo didn't."

"So?"

"Greedo was Avaro's nephew."

"You think he'll hold that against us?" Leia asked.

"Maybe. Maybe not. All I know about Rodian customs

is that they are big on hunting. If somebody had

shot my nephew, I might be unhappy with them."

"We didn't shoot him, Han did."

Lando grinned. "Well, yes, that's true. But we are

his friends."

Leia leaned back in her seat. Always more obstacles.

Then again, maybe this wasn't really a problem. No

way to tell until they got there.

Around them, hyperspace flowed as the Falcon carried

them to whatever awaited.

Vader knelt on one knee as the Emperor stared

through his viewer plate at the spires of the city.

Abruptly he turned. "Do get up, Lord Vader."

Vader obeyed.

"So our agents have verified this report?"

"They have, my master."

"A hundred Rebel ships? Plus, no doubt, their pilots

and officers."

"Likely, yes."

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 113

"That's Grand Moff Kintaro's sector, is it not? He

has been lax in allowing such a base to become established.

We will speak to him."

Vader said nothing. Grand Moff Kintaro would

likely be out of a job soon and also likely out of breath

—permanently.

"Well. You must take part of the fleet and go there

immediately. Destroy the base. The loss of ships and

troops will be most damaging to the Rebels."

"I thought perhaps Admiral Okins might command

the expedition."

The Emperor smiled. "Did you?"

Vader felt his hope evaporate. "But if it is your wish,

I shall lead the attack."

"It is my wish. You may take Okins if you like, but

you are to personally ensure the assault."

Vader bowed. "Yes, my master."

As he left the Emperor's most private chamber, Vader

fumed. The base was there, just as Xizor had said.

It would be a powerful victory for the Empire and relatively

easy—ships under repair would not be able to lift

to defend themselves, and it would be like shooting

game birds at roost, but he did not trust the Dark

Prince, and he knew the man did nothing for free.

What was in this for Xizor? What did he hope to

gain?

Vader brooded as he walked. At least he had not

conveyed to the Emperor who had given the Rebel

base's location. He'd had the recordings from the

skyhook's holocams erased and his own recordings

locked away. A small victory, but any such triumph

over Xizor was better than none.

Vader was met at the exit of the Imperial Palace by

Admiral Okins. "Prepare your ships, Admiral. I shall

be carrying the flag on my Destroyer."

Okins bowed. "At once, Lord Vader."

Vader looked up into the night skies over Imperial

Center. The darkness was held at bay by the millions of

114 STAR WARS

lights on the surface, and up where the glow dimmed,

the tiny dots of spacecraft arriving and leaving looked

like a swarm of Belvarian firegnats, reds and greens and

blinking white ventral landing beacons. He would take

his ships and crush the Rebel shipyard, smash it flat,

and then he would hurry back here. Xizor was up to

something, and it would be best if he found out what

quickly.

12

ke took a deep breath. He stood outside Ben's

house, the first stars of evening aglimmer, the moon

still on the rise. The air was warm but not as scorchingly

hot as it had been. He held the completed lightsaber

in his right hand. He had assembled it according

to the old book's direction; everything should work.

Should work. But he'd come outside to test it. That

way, if it blew up, at least it wouldn't take Ben's house

with it.

Artoo stood nearby, watching. Luke could have had

the droid try it without any risk to himself, but what

kind of Jedi would do that?

"Go back inside," he told Artoo.

Artoo was not happy with that and said so, ending

in an air-forced-through-rubbery-lips noise.

"Go on. If something happens, I need you to tell

Leia."

Yeah. Tell her Luke, the galaxy's biggest idiot, flash-

116 STAR WARS

flamed himself into a black crisp because he couldn't

follow an elementary circuit diagram.

Artoo left, whistling his protest as he went.

Luke let his breath out. He waited until Artoo was

out of sight, then took another deep breath, held it, and

pushed the control button—

The lightsaber glowed; the blade extruded to full

length, just under a meter, and began to hum with

power. It gave off a green gleam that was quite bright

in the early night.

Luke grinned and let his indrawn breath escape.

Whew.

Well, it wasn't like he really thought it was going to

explode.

He waved the lightsaber experimentally. It had a

good balance, maybe even better than his first one. He

drew himself up into a ready stance, slid forward, and

swung through a series of downward cuts, alternating

from left to right and back.

Yes!

There was a thin spire of rock jutting up from the

dry ground a few meters away. He moved to it, cocked

the lightsaber, and whipped it down at a forty-five-degree

angle. The humming blade crackled, sheared

through a wrist-thick chunk of rock, left a smooth cut.

He nodded and relaxed his fighting stance. He held

his left hand near the blade. No sensation of heat; that

was good; it meant the superconductors were working.

Behind him, Artoo chirped and rolled to a stop.

Luke shut the lightsaber's power off. Saw the droid

and shook his head. He had a mind of his own, Artoo

did.

"Hey, it works great," Luke said. "I knew it would,

you know."

Did Artoo's whistled agreement have a sarcastic

tone?

Luke chuckled. Well. No matter. He had built the

elegant weapon, and it worked. That was something.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 117

Maybe he would learn how to be a Jedi Master after

all.

He looked up at the stars. He hoped Leia and the

others were doing okay.

Leia, Chewie, and Lando sat in Avaro's private office,

facing him across a large desk made of some kind

of carved yellowish bone.

Avaro's skin had faded to a dull green; he was much

fatter than most of the Rodians Leia had seen, and he

spoke Basic with a lispy accent.

"I thee no prowblemth," he said. "Gweedo

thouldn't have twied to take Tholo alone. He wath not

vewwy bwight, my nephew. Tholo ith fwothen, Kenobi

ith dead, yowah money ith ath good ath anybodyth."

Well. So much for family ties. Made things easier,

though she wished Avaro would speak some language

in which he was more proficient. She didn't know

what, given that her Rodian was elementary. Oh, well.

She could understand him with a little work, and that

was all that was necessary.

"So you will put us in touch with the proper people?"

Avaro nodded. "Yeth. It will take a few dayth. Local

contakth won't do you any good, you need an offplanet

wepwethentative."

"Fine."

"Meanwhile, feel fwee to enjoy owah cathino.

Woomth will be made available fowah you."

Leia nodded. "Thanks."

If Mos Eisley was bad, this place was worse, Leia

thought, as they left Avaro's office and moved toward

the hotel section. There were electronic gambling devices,

card games, wheels of fortune and the like, with

players and dealers and operators busy at them, but the

floor was worn and dirty, the air filled with smoke and

an odor of spice that indicated some of the patrons

118 STAR WARS

might be chemically enhanced—or chemically debilitated,

depending on how you viewed such things. Large

armed guards stood at regular intervals, looking, she

thought, for somebody to shoot. It all looked seedy and

unkempt.

Lando glanced around with a critical eye.

"See anything you like?" Leia said.

"Couple of the card games look as if they might be

honest. Place like this in a complex with so many other

casinos pretty much has to be on the up-and-up. House

percentage ensures a good profit, and if there aren't a

few big winners now and then, the customers go elsewhere.

Better stay away from the credit disk machines

and the wheels, though. Those'll be rigged."

"Don't worry, I don't gamble."

Lando grinned.

"Something funny?"

"Princess, you're the biggest gambler I've ever met.

But you don't risk money, you risk your neck."

Leia also had to grin a little at that. He had a point.

Threepio waited at the entrance, and he did not

seem happy to be there. He did seem relieved to see

them return. "I hope your meeting went well," he said.

"Yeah, it did," Lando answered. "Though I think

we might take you to translate for us next time. Avaro

has a slight problem with Basic."

"Happy to be of service," Threepio said. "I'd much

rather stay with you than out here alone. Some of the

patrons seem quite unsavory."

Leia smiled again. There was an understatement.

"We'd better get checked in," Lando said. "Then we

can come down and see just how honest this operation

is."

It was nearly a standard week after his meeting with

the Emperor, and Darth Vader now stood on the bridge

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 119

of his Super-class Star Destroyer, about to leave hyperspace.

They had entered the Baji Sector and would

soon be in the Lybeya System. In formation with him

were two Victory-class and one Imperial-class Star Destroyers,

more than sufficient firepower to destroy a

single shipyard.

Better too much than too little, the Emperor had

said.

Vader took no particular joy in this kind of mission,

it was so impersonal; but it was a necessary part of the

war. The enemy could not fight without equipment,

and depriving him of it was much better in the long run

than waiting to meet in battle, no matter what Vader's

personal preferences might be.

"We are dropping to sublight, Lord Vader."

He turned and saw a junior officer standing there.

He had heard that the officers drew lots when it came

time to deliver messages to him, and the loser had to

go. It was good that they feared him. Fear was a better

weapon than a blaster or a lightsaber.

Vader was silent, allowing the man to worry for a

moment. "Very well," he finally said. "Set a course for

the Vergesso Asteroids, using the coordinates for the

shipyard. I will be in my chambers. Call me when we

get there."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

After the frightened officer hurried away, Vader

stood there staring after the man. He would much

rather be hunting Luke Skywalker than playing figurehead

on a mission any line officer with half a working

brain could manage. True, he had his agents in the field

—some volunteers, some conscripted—many of whom

were quite adept, but it was not the same as doing it

himself.

He blew out a particularly labored breath. Unfortunately,

he had not been given a choice. The Emperor

did not ask for opinions when he issued a command.

120 STAR WARS

The best Vader could do was to hurry and finish as

quickly as possible.

He headed toward his chambers.

Lando sat at a table with five other cardplayers, engaged

in a game Leia didn't recognize. Each player was

given seven thin electronic rectangles by the dealer

droid, allowed to discard up to four of them, then to

draw replacements. The game seemed to involve sorting

these card plates into colors and numbers, then betting

that the resulting combinations would either total

more points than the other players' or come closer to

some ideal. Leia wasn't quite sure about that part yet.

Apparently each player was given the same number of

points on a counter to begin with, and the winner was

the one with the highest total when the session ended.

Lando seemed to be doing well at the game. The

electronic counter in front of him showed a positive

balance higher than all but one of the others.

"The bet is fifteen," the droid said. "The sum is minimum

and the color is open."

"Match," the bald man next to the dealer said. "In

green."

"Match, in blue," a young Rodian female next to

him said.

"Double," Lando said. "In red."

The other players groaned.

Lando smiled.

Threepio stood nearby, watching, as did Chewie.

Threepio kept his voice quiet and said, "I don't understand

how he keeps winning. He isn't playing correctly.

The odds on the match he just offered are eight hundred

and six to one. It would be very difficult to

achieve that combination."

"He's bluffing," Leia whispered.

Threepio turned to look at her. "That doesn't seem

very wise."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 121

Three of the players tossed their cards into the retrieval

tray.

"Sure it is," Leia said. "He's winning and they are

intimidated. Rather than risk losing more, they prefer

to drop out."

"But what if one of the other players has a superior

hand and doesn't drop out?"

"Watch," she whispered.

Now just Lando, the bald man, and the Rodian female

were left in the round.

"Match," the bald man said.

"Plus a tenth," the Rodian said.

"Redouble," Lando said. "In red, maximum count."

"He can't possibly achieve that," Threepio whispered.

Chewie growled at him.

"How rude. I was merely stating the truth—"

"Be quiet," Leia said. She was interested in seeing

how the others reacted to Lando's gambit.

The bald man shook his head and tendered his

cards. "Too steep for me."

The Rodian looked at her cards, held in such a way

that Leia could not see them, then glanced at Lando.

Lando smiled at her. The expression was at once

warm and mocking. He looked self-satisfied, confident,

even smug.

Oh, he was good.

The Rodian muttered something Leia didn't catch,

though she guessed it was probably a curse of some

kind. She shoved her cards into the collector.

"Round to player number three," the droid said.

Lando tossed his cards into the collector and turned

to grin at Leia.

Threepio said, "I can't believe it."

Leia said, "Sometimes the appearance of strength

can be as effective as strength itself. Think about the

Bulano serpent, which has no teeth or claws or poison

but which can blow itself up to five times its normal

122 STAR WARS

size, making itself look fiercer and more dangerous. It

might not really matter whether you can beat an opponent

if he believes you can."

"I suppose you have a point," Threepio said. But he

did not sound convinced.

Leia hoped Lando was having fun; she wasn't.

They'd been here for three days, and since she didn't

care to wager on the games of chance in this pit, it

wasn't interesting for her. She'd practiced with a

Rodian electrodictionary and learned a few words and

phrases. She'd gone outside a couple of times, Chewie

staying with her like a shadow, but that wasn't much

fun, either. Like Mos Eisley this time of year, it was

hot. Unlike that wretched place, there was an ocean not

too far away from the gambling complex, so the humidity

was much higher. It was thus hot and sticky,

hardly an improvement.

She could, she supposed, go to that body of water

and sit on a beach or something. Avaro had made it

known that many tourists did that, swam or

motosurfed while their friends or relatives spent time in

the casinos. Of course, sitting on a beach and enjoying

the breeze and a cold drink might be fun, but probably

not as much fun with a grumbling Wookiee complaining

about the sand in his fur.

Besides, if something came up, she wanted to be

right here.

There was a row of holoboard games set up in one

corner of the casino, with players betting on their skills

there, and Chewie seemed interested, the way he kept

looking in that direction.

She shook her head. "Come on," she said to

Chewie. "You want to play, play. I'll watch and

Threepio can stand behind you and offer bad advice."

The Wookiee raised his eyebrows.

The three of them left Lando and headed toward the

board games. Amazing how fast a path cleared for

them. Leia didn't know if that was because of their

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 123

connection to Avaro, who deigned to pass through the

smelly room from time to time, or because Chewie led

the way. There was a "no shooting inside" policy,

they'd been told, but almost everybody seemed to be

sporting a weapon of some kind, and Chewbacca's

bowcaster looked particularly lethal.

She was surprised there didn't seem to be any Imperial

presence. No stormtroopers, no off-duty officers,

nothing. Maybe it was because Black Sun had some

interest in the complex.

She sighed. Somehow when she'd signed on to help

the Alliance, she'd never pictured herself in a ninthrate,

bug-chewed casino waiting to be contacted by a

representative of the galaxy's largest criminal organization.

If somebody had told her that even a few months

ago, she would have laughed and told them to see a

medic.

Trying to guess your own future turned out wrong

almost all the time.

Life was strange that way.

13

Artoo fired a crackling beam of electricity at Luke.

Tatooine's desert morning air sizzled with a spark that

arced a full two meters long.

Luke, in the grip of the Force, had already snapped

the lightsaber over to block the artificial lightning bolt.

The charge cascaded harmlessly from the blade.

"Too easy," he said.

Artoo whistled.

"I know, I know, it's not your fault you're no Darth

Vader."

Luke relaxed a hair. It took a few seconds for the

capacitor that ran Artoo's electroprod to build up

enough of an electrical overload for another discharge.

With the Force, the blue flash was easy to deflect; without

the Force, it would zap him pretty good, since there

was no way he could dodge the bolt.

Not that there was any danger. The electrostatic

charge would make his hair stand on end and tickle

some, but even with almost two hundred thousand

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 125

volts, the amperage was so low that it couldn't do

much more than that, unless he was standing in a puddle

of water.

Freestanding water was unlikely out here in the

Wastes.

Luke heard a distant drone. It was a faint noise but

quickly grew louder. He turned and looked into the

morning desert—

Bzzzhhtttt!

Luke jumped a meter, came down rubbing at his

backside. "Hey, ow!"

Artoo made a noise Luke had come to believe was

his version of a laugh.

"That's not funny!"

Artoo chirped and whistled, punctuated his reply

with a bladder squeeze.

"I know I didn't tell you to quit, but you saw me

turn and look away!"

Artoo said something that was probably derogatory.

"Yeah, well, you just remember that next time you

need a lube."

Artoo whistled, sliding up and down the scale.

Master Yoda would be shaking his head. So much

for Luke's control of the Force. One little slip in concentration

and poof! it was gone.

Luke quickly forgot his irritation at himself and the

little droid. Those sounds were getting louder, and he

could see the dust trail now, pointing like a comet right

at him. Engines.

Somebody was coming to call, and there appeared to

be a lot of them.

"Maybe we'd better get out of sight," Luke said.

"Hide inside, Artoo."

With Artoo safely in Ben's house, Luke circled

around to a sandy hillock and crouched down. He

couldn't be bolting every time some passing dune rat

coughed. He had to stay and see what was going on.

126 STAR WARS

The noise of the engines was an echoing racket now,

and Luke finally recognized the source: swoops.

Swoops were long, raked repulsor craft with a

plowlike scoop on the front. The vehicles were capable

of seating two, were fast and maneuverable but hard to

control well. They weren't much more than huge engines

with seats and controls, and the combination of

big repulsors and hot turbothrusters made for a mean,

fast, noisy flier. A speeder bike was a child's toy compared

to a fully dressed-out swoop. Most people associated

the small, unprotected craft with gangs, outlaws

who did almost anything as long as it wasn't legal.

Some of them were famous, like the Nova Demons and

the Dark Star Hellions. They could make their swoops

do everything but dance. They ran spice, smuggled

weapons, did odd jobs for various factions of the underworld,

and generally raised a lot of grief wherever

they went.

Of course, not everybody who flew a swoop was a

thug.

He'd spent quite a bit of time riding a borrowed

swoop himself when he'd been a teen, darting in and

out of the canyons and roaring through the streets of

Mos Eisley late at night when the traffic patrol was

thin.

Question was, what was a swooptroop gang doing

out here? He was the only person around for a hundred

kilometers. Had they gotten lost?

Not likely, given their time in the seats.

No, if this was what he thought it was, they were

coming to see him.

And he didn't think they were coming out to wish

him a nice day. Well, he'd wanted a real test for his

lightsaber. Looked as if he might be about to get one.

Luke looked for insignia as the swoops roared in

and began to circle Ben's house. There were eight, nine

. . . a dozen of them, and they all wore protective goggles

and shock helmets, but their flight suits weren't

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 127

matched. A couple of them wore blue neocels; a couple

wore orange and tan; one was in green puff sleeves;

another sported dyed red bantha hide; and about half

of them wore freight handler grays.

All had the same insignia on their jackets—Luke

couldn't quite place it, though it looked vaguely familiar

somehow.

All carried blasters.

He wasn't as well hidden as he'd thought. One of

them spotted him, jerked his blaster up, and fired. The

beam sizzled past him, turned sand into muddy glass.

Not even close, but it didn't look as if they were here to

take any prisoners.

Uh-oh.

He heard one of the bikers yell above the engine

racket: "Blow the little runt to Bespin, boys!"

Luke hurried to find better cover. There were a couple

of large boulders that would keep most of their fire

off him. He ran. His own blaster was in the house; all

he had was his lightsaber and—ten-to-one, twelve-toone

odds? That could be a lot better. He'd never outrun

them on foot. Not a whole lot of places to hide out

here.

Why were they trying to kill him? Who sent them?

He needed to know that. He also needed to stay

alive.

The engines rumbled; the vibrations of the repulsors

shook the ground; the sound washed over him in hard

bass, and the subsonics made his head ache. He could

see their mouths working, but he couldn't hear what

they were yelling.

Okay, Luke. Think of something.

The swoopers roared in, snapped off shots at him.

Most of the bolts didn't come close, and he was able to

block those that did with his own unaugmented skills.

He tried to let the Force fill him, but it didn't happen.

Hard to concentrate with all that racket and a dozen

armed thugs taking potshots at him that way.

128 S TAR WARS

Two of the riders headed for him; both fired again.

Neither was even close; their beams missed by a meter.

Fortunately the swoops kicked up a lot of grit. A

cloud of dust surrounded them and offered a translucent

tan screen.

Again a blaster beam went wide as Luke jumped and

swung his glowing green blade.

Behind him there came a crash. Luke spun, saw that

two of the swoops had collided. One of them angled

off and smashed into a clump of rocks, the rider leaping

free at the last second. The other bike settled to the

ground, damaged but probably not unusable. They

couldn't shoot and they couldn't fly. Lucky for him.

A roar to his left. Luke twisted.

A biker roared in; he had what looked like a giant

ax in his hand!

Another engine screamed closer than the axman.

Luke set himself, and as the second swooper came in,

he swung his saber in a feint and slammed his boot into

the rider.

Luke's kick toppled the attacker from the swoop.

The deadman switch in the grips immediately killed the

turbine, but not the repulsor engine. Luke hopped onto

the swoop, grabbed the handlebars, and twisted the

start ring. The swoop's turbine grumbled back online.

Now the odds were better. He couldn't keep riding

his luck; better to take his chances riding one of these.

He opened the throttle a little, hit the retros, turned,

put the swoop into a one-eighty and kicked up a

sandwall, just like he'd done as a teen. He pointed the

swoop at the axman and opened the throttle wide.

The acceleration nearly unseated him, but he managed

to stay in the saddle.

Oh, boy! He'd nearly forgotten how much fun one

of these was!

The axman's weapon shattered when it hit Luke's

saber. Luke twisted the throttle, turned, roared away.

The next rider nearest Luke was the one dressed in

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 129

puffy green. With the swoop's turbos open wide, it

didn't take long to reach him.

Green saw him coming, and by the time he figured

out Luke wasn't one of his gang, it was too late. He

tried to turn away at the last second, but Luke's cut

sheared through Green's right thruster-control line.

The right jet shut down, but the left jet did not, and the

swoop immediately spun out of control. Luke was past

him and safe, but the wildly twirling and gyrating little

craft flew into the path of another of the gray riders.

There came a crunch of metal and plastic as the two

swoops smashed into each other and crashed to the

ground.

Well, well. Three down, nine to go. So far, so good.

It was too good to last.

The leader saw Luke and used hand signals to move

his troops. They scattered and re-formed in a unit.

Luke swung the swoop into a wide turn and hit the

throttles. If he took this baby a few hundred meters up

and out of the sand and ground clutter, he could open

it up to racing speed. He could be at Beggar's Canyon

in minutes. He'd explored just about every centimeter

of that place in his T-16; no way they'd run him down

there. He could pick them off one at a time, disable

their machines—shoot, he could capture the whole

gang!

There was an extra set of goggles clipped to the handlebars.

Luke belted his lightsaber, pulled the goggles

free, and strapped them on. He'd need them—when the

afterburners kicked in on a hot swoop, it could hit a

good 600 kph. A bug would put an eye out at that

speed. He hoped the machine's owner kept this rake

tuned.

Beggar's Canyon, here I come.

Beggar's Canyon was actually a series of interlinked

canyons. Long ago, there had been a lot of water on

130 STAR WARS

Tatooine, and much of it had flowed as rivers. Beggar's

Canyon had been the confluence of at least three rivers,

and, along with millions of years of wind and rain and

sunlight, the flowing water had carved deep and

twisted valleys into the rock.

It had been a while since Luke had flown the canyons.

Then again, they hadn't changed since his last

visit. He and a few of the other local would-be star

pilots had engaged in mock firefights here, using harmless

light beams for lasers. Plus he'd hunted womp rats,

some of them three meters long, but hard targets to hit

with a low-powered sporting blaster while traveling at

speed.

The pack of swooptroops was still behind him as he

dropped below ground level. They hadn't gained on

him, save for one of the riders, who was only a hundred

meters or so back. But the pack hadn't lost much

distance, either; it was only a few hundred meters behind

the rider dressed in blue, and holding steady.

Luke grinned. Let's see how they like playing in my

territory.

The route called the Main Avenue went more or less

straight for nearly two kilometers before it made a

sharp-angled turn to the right. Dead Man's Turn, they

called it, and for good reason. Luke dropped his airspeed

as he approached the intersection. Try to take it

too fast and you'd turn yourself into a gooey paste on

the far wall of the turn.

He hit the retros as he adjusted the turbojets for a

hard arc to the right. The swoop slewed a little, drifted

to the left; then the thrusters straightened it out with a

heavy shove.

Easy as sneezing.

The rider behind him, apparently unfamiliar with

the canyons, didn't slow down enough.

Luke heard the crash as the swooper hit the far wall

of the turn. The fuel cell let go, and a brilliant yelloworange

flash and fireball rose into the air.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 131

No time to worry about that; another turn was upcoming,

a long zigzag to the left, right, then left again,

and he needed to keep to the center of the corridor,

which narrowed in the middle of the stretched-out Z.

He didn't see the rest of the swooptroops behind

him, but if they wanted to catch him, they'd have to be

back there somewhere. They could stay high, but to see

him they'd have to be so high they couldn't possibly

catch up. And if they got that far away, he could find

an overhang and hover under it and they'd never find

him.

Four down, eight to go.

Seconds later one of the graysuits appeared in Luke's

rear viewer.

He was pretty good, to have gained so fast. Or

pretty stupid.

Gray gained. He was within sixty or seventy meters

now.

Time to thread the needle. There it was, just ahead.

The Eye of the Needle was a narrow slot with jagged

rock teeth lining it.

Luke gunned the turbojets. Went through the slot.

Close enough so he felt a shard of rock catch his jacket

and tear it. Man—!

Gray, hot on Luke's tail, tried to follow him.

Didn't make it.

Boom . . .

The rest of them were still after him. And the bad

odds were still bad. It might be a long afternoon. Or a

short one . . .

As he throttled back for a sharp turn, Luke heard a

hoarse yell: "He's got help! We ain't gonna win this

one, Spiker! Let's burn!"

Huh? Help?

Luke looked over his shoulder.

A swoop, engines off, dropped silently in free fall.

The man on the machine wore black, his head

shrouded in a flight helmet and polarized shield, a

132 STAR WARS

blinking blaster held in his outstretched right hand. He

was shooting at the swoopers.

If that guy on the swoop didn't light his engines real

soon, he was going to turn that expensive machine and

himself into a big smoking crater—

As if he'd heard Luke, the falling swoop's engines

ignited. The little craft continued to fall, but more

slowly.

It didn't look as if he'd kicked the repulsors on in

time—

He kept firing as he fell, missing but making the

swoopers scatter. Who—?

The swoop got to within a handspan of the ground

and stopped. It hovered, dead still.

Man, that was flying.

The swoopers took off. After a moment, the stranger

eased his craft toward where Luke had put his swoop

into a hovering idle.

The man pulled off his helmet and face shield.

Dash Rendar!

"What are you doing here?" Luke said.

Dash shrugged. "Saving your butt from swoop

scum, it looks like."

"You know what I mean. Why are you here?" Luke

looked at the fallen attackers. "Well?"

"Well, here's the thing. Leia—she's a hot package,

that one—Leia kinda wanted me to keep an eye on you

until she gets back."

"She what?"

"Ease up, you'll blow a fuse. No big deal."

"Listen, pal, I don't need a baby-sitter!"

"Oh, yeah, you coulda taken these melloons all by

yourself, right?"

"I wasn't doing so bad."

"No, you're right, you weren't. But you were gonna

lose."

Luke held his temper as best he could. He didn't like

this braggart, but Dash was right. It would have taken

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 133

a miracle, one he wasn't capable of just yet, to beat the

last of the swooptroop alone. Like it or not—and he

didn't like it at all—Dash had saved his neck.

"Thanks." It was a mumble.

"Excuse me, I didn't hear what you said."

"Don't push it, Dash."

The older man grinned.

Boy, was he going to have words with Leia when she

came back. As much as he was attracted to her, as

much as he thought she was the toughest, most beautiful

woman he'd ever known, where did she get off

sending this guy to watch him? And he knew she had

to be paying Dash to do it—Dash wasn't the kind of

guy who did stuff for free.

Dash said something, and Luke blinked at him.

"Huh?"

"I said, did you see their tattoos? This gang works

for Jabba."

Luke looked. That was where he recognized the insignia

from. Jabba's men.

Dash continued, "I was in Mos Eisley, kinda . . .

hanging around, when I heard them talking. They had

orders to kill you."

Kill him, yeah, he'd figured that out. Dash kept talking,

and Luke tuned back in to what he was saying.

". . . Vader is no longer your number one admirer."

"He never was. If it's him behind it."

Was it? Luke shook his head. That still didn't make

sense.

14

Lord Vader, we are closing on the Rebel asteroid."

Vader turned away from the viewport to behold the

junior officer who had drawn the duty this time.

"Good. Have Admiral Okins meet me on the

bridge."

"At once, Lord Vader."

Vader adjusted the controls on his armor for an increased

supply of oxygen and started for the bridge. It

was not his choice of chores, this surprise attack on

helpless vessels, but he would do it well.

Ah, Prince Xizor," the Emperor said. "How good to

see you again."

Xizor nodded and bowed low. "The pleasure is

mine, my Emperor."

"Do come in. What brings you to my chambers?"

"I was just curious, my master, as to the progress of

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 135

Lord Vader's attack upon the Rebel shipyard in the Baji

Sector."

The Emperor's ravaged face revealed nothing, but

Xizor was certain his comment had come as a surprise.

"I really must see about hiring your spies away from

you," the Emperor said. "Especially after you stole my

best horticulturist. A pity the man had that fatal lift

accident before he could start working for you."

"Yes, a pity," Xizor replied. If ever there was a poor

loser, it was the Emperor. "However, it was not my

spies who gave me this information."

"Tell me, then, how did you come to know of it?"

"I'm surprised Lord Vader didn't mention it to you,

but what my spies did discover was the location of the

Rebel shipyard. I, of course, immediately offered this

information to Lord Vader."

"Of course," the Emperor said, his voice as smooth

as lube on transparisteel plate. "I am expecting a report

from the fleet shortly. Perhaps you would join in some

refreshments and wait with me?"

"I would be honored."

Xizor kept his smile in check. Vader had not told the

Emperor who had given him the Rebel shipyard. No

surprise. More, he had somehow gleaned the recordings

from the Emperor's own skyhook to keep him

from finding out. Xizor himself would have done the

same in Vader's position. Which was, of course, why he

was here. To make certain the Emperor knew whom to

credit for this bit of business.

And whom to blame for his not knowing that, too.

Ah, but he was going to enjoy watching Vader become

aware that his little game had gone awry.

He was going to enjoy it greatly.

"Admiral?"

"We will be in range shortly, Lord Vader," Okins

said.

136 STAR WARS

"Good. Commence firing as soon as we reach optimum

distance. I want no mistakes."

Vader stood in front of his vessel's main viewport,

looking out at the large asteroid looming ahead of

them. Big as a small moon, the rock was pocked with

craters from collisions with its smaller brothers, and

looked to be nickel-iron, very common in this region.

Suddenly a pair of ships came around from the opposite

side of the asteroid.

"Two Nebulon-B Escort Frigates," an officer said to

his left.

Vader looked at the pair of ships. The frigates were

long and lean, with control and weapons pods in the

front connected to the massive drives and TIE decks at

the rear by a long and relatively slender tube. "Our

own ships," he said, angry.

Nobody spoke to that.

Early in the Rebellion, a number of the frigates had

been captured or had defected to the Alliance.

"At least they won't have any operable TIE fighters,"

the admiral said.

As if his words had been a signal, a dozen X-wing

fighters boiled out of the frigate and began accelerating

toward the Imperial fleet.

"I see they have been modified to carry X-wings,"

Vader said. His tone was very dry. "It seems the shipyard

will not be such an easy target after all."

Okins turned to his TIE operations officer. "Scramble

our fighters. I don't want to waste firepower swatting

these annoying . . . flies with our big guns."

"At once, Admiral."

Vader saw a third ship round the asteroid, much

faster than the frigates. He identified it as the officer

spoke: "Here comes a Corellian corvette."

Inside his mask, Vader smiled. Good. Better a fight

than a slaughter of crippled, roosting birds. He turned

to the operations officer. "Have my Interceptor readied."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 137

The admiral glanced at the TIE OpOff, then at Vader.

"My lord, do you think that is—?"

"—wise?" Vader finished. "It has been too long

since I flew in combat, Admiral. I need to flex those

muscles. You can handle the shipyard. I will clear the

vacuum of the fighters."

The admiral inclined his head in a military bow.

As if the admiral could do anything else.

Vader had forgotten how much he enjoyed piloting

his Interceptor, it had been so long. It came back

quickly.

The enjoyment did not last. Almost effortlessly, he

blew three, four, five of the Rebel ships into smoking

pieces.

It was . . . disappointing. The Force was not

strong in any of them; it was no real challenge. Some

were skilled, true, but mere skill could not defeat the

dark side. He had hoped for better competition.

Any competition.

An X-wing in a hard power climb tried to attack

him from below, but he looped away and came around

fast, punched it with his lasers, turned it into scrap.

He was aware of the destroyers firing at the frigates,

disabling one ?.nd holding the other at bay. A frigate

was no match for the pride of the Imperial Navy.

As he chased another X-wing into oblivion, he felt

the disturbance in the Force as the fleet pounded the

Rebel shipyard apart, pouring destruction upon the

helpless grounded ships, pilots, and troops. Multicolored

streams of light burned all they touched.

Another X-wing darted and twisted and turned,

tried to avoid his fire. The Rebel pilot was good, but he

had no chance of escaping.

Vader let the dark side guide his aim. Felt his weapons

lock on . . .

Held his fire.

138 STAR WAR S

Disgusted, he broke off his attack and allowed the

X-wing to escape. This was beneath him. Since he had

fought Luke on the balcony of the city in the clouds, no

other opponent had been any real competition. Well.

Perhaps the criminal Xizor offered something, but that

was different, that was not a warrior's challenge. Xizor

was merely duplicitous and devious; he would never

dare stand eye-to-eye with the Dark Lord of the Sith.

Vader watched the X-wing scurry away. The battle

was over, such as it was. The Rebel shipyard burned,

its own air and fuel feeding the conflagration. Hundreds

of ships gone, thousands of troops wiped away, a

great victory for the Empire.

Vader shook his head. A great victory. Once that

would have been something to make him proud. Now?

Now it was as hollow as smashing these weak X-wing

pilots.

A warrior needed to contend with equals. Obi-Wan

was gone, and the other Jedi were all extinct, save one,

who was the strongest of them all. His own son.

He had told the Emperor that Luke Skywalker

would join them or die. The real truth was only slightly

different: Luke would join Darth Vader or die.

It would be something to look forward to.

That would be the duel of a lifetime. This wasn't

even exercise.

He headed his fighter back to the ship.

Vader stepped onto the holocam field and initiated

the transmission. The holonet made its shortcut

through hyperspace and achieved its considerably

faster-than-light connections. The air shivered and

shimmered as the Emperor appeared from nothingness.

Vader lowered himself to one knee. "My master," he

said.

"Ah, Lord Vader. Your report?"

"The Rebel shipyard is no more. They put up a

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 139

fight, but it was of brief duration. We destroyed hundreds

of vessels and thousands of the enemy within

them."

"Good, good." The Emperor waved his hand, and

his image became smaller as the holocam on his end

adjusted to a wider angle.

The new angle revealed Xizor standing a couple of

meters away.

Vader's involuntary reaction overrode his mechanical

breather. He realized the Emperor would be able to

hear his breathing. He forced himself to allow the

breather to resume its normal function.

"Prince Xizor was just telling me how happy he was

to provide the Empire with the location of the Rebel

base. It seems we owe him much gratitude, don't you

think?"

Vader gritted his teeth. He would rather bite off his

own tongue and swallow it than offer such gratitude,

especially in front of the Emperor, but he had no

choice. The Emperor did like to crack the whip now

and again, to show that he still held it and was not

averse to using it.

Vader looked at Xizor. It was good that they could

not see his face when he spoke. "The Empire owes you

thanks, Prince Xizor."

The Emperor smiled.

Xizor smiled even more widely. Said, "Oh, think

nothing of it, Lord Vader. I am always happy to serve."

Had the man been any more self-effacing and servile

in his tone he would have had to look up from licking

the Emperor's boots. It was good that he was lightyears

away; Vader's anger was such that he wasn't sure

he could have stopped himself from destroying Xizor

had he been within reach, despite the Emperor's admonitions.

"I expect to see you soon, Lord Vader."

"Yes, my master. We are returning even as we

speak."

140 STAR WARS

"Good."

The image swirled and faded.

Vader stood. Turned to leave the holo chamber.

A junior officer approached him as he exited. "Lord

Vader, I—"

That was as far as he got. Vader clenched his fist and

called upon the dark side.

The officer fell, clutching his throat.

"I do not wish to be disturbed," he said to the man

lying on the deck. "Is that clear?"

Vader opened his fist.

The officer inhaled noisily. When he could manage

it, he said, "C-C-Clear, L-Lord Vader!"

With that, the Dark Lord of the Sith stormed away

to his own chamber to brood.

Xizor felt the glory of his triumph over Vader almost

as a tangible thing, a shower of pleasure that rinsed

him and filled him with a warm glow.

"You must come and visit me more often," the Emperor

said. "I do enjoy our conversations. I'm sure

Lord Vader would also enjoy seeing you when he returns."

Xizor bowed. Most unlikely that Vader would enjoy

that. "My master."

He left, and the feeling of power was unabated. The

Emperor was, of course, aware of what Xizor had just

done to Vader; indeed, he had enjoyed being a part of

the process, of pitting his two servants against each

other and watching to see how the play would go. He

was like a man who owned a pack of semitame wolf

cats. He enjoyed throwing a single bone into the pack

to see which would outfight the others to claim it. He

was as devious as any man, the Emperor was, and

Xizor resolved to take extreme care during the remainder

of this endeavor.

Extreme care.

15

izor leaned back in his form-chair and looked at the

small holoproj floating on his desk. "Magnify image,"

he said. "Full scale."

The computer obeyed, and the simulacrum increased

sixfold.

Standing on his desk now was a strikingly beautiful

woman, unaware that her picture had been captured by

a hidden holocam.

"Move image to floor holoplate."

Again the computer did as it was ordered.

Xizor nodded. "So this is Princess Leia Organa. My.

How interesting."

He knew who she was, of course, though he had

never bothered to scan her image closely before. He'd

always assumed that she was some hardened battle-ax

of a woman, all for the Cause, one of those androgynous

and ugly zealots who couldn't be bothered with

worrying about her appearance. A mistaken assumption,

that.

142 STAR WARS

Behind him, Guri said, "She approached the owner

of one of our protected casinos on Rodia, in the gaming

complex. Looking to set up a meeting with somebody

of stature in Black Sun."

The Dark Prince steepled his fingers and regarded

the image. "Now, why would one of the leaders of the

Alliance be interested in our organization? They have

repeatedly rebuffed our overtures, not wishing to sully

their clean revolutionary hands with common criminal

dirt. A change of heart? I wouldn't think so."

Having been asked nothing, Guri did not reply.

Xizor continued. "It must be important. Let's see

what she wants, shall we? Go and find out."

Again Guri refrained from speaking, but Xizor detected

something unsettled in her manner. "A problem?"

"The task does not seem particularly challenging."

Xizor laughed. One of her few foibles, that, wishing

to be pushed to find her limits. "Perhaps not. Still, it is

important for another reason. If our intelligence and

that of the Empire are both correct, Princess Organa is

close to only a few people. One of them is Luke

Skywalker. It is a strong possibility that she knows

where he is. Find out what she wants and report back

to me. She may well be the easiest way to find

Skywalker. In any event, I may find a . . . use for her.

After you take care of that other business we discussed.

That should be more . . . challenging, I believe."

"As you wish."

Xizor touched his finger to his forehead and

sketched a mock salute.

Guri left.

He returned his gaze to the counterfeit of Leia Organa.

"Computer, rotate image, normal speed."

The hologram turned on an invisible axis.

She looked just as good from behind.

Xizor took a deep breath and let it out. Here was an

interesting woman. Attractive, adept, well educated,

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 143

and dangerous. She was, according to the files, as good

with a blaster as she was beautiful.

The Dark Prince felt a stirring inside him. He was

aware of his skin color shifting, going from the cool

green to a warmer pale orange. He smiled. He had dismissed

his most recent mistress. The idea of female

company was not repellent. Especially a female who

had more to offer than mere good looks. He wondered

what she might be doing just now. Probably eating a

fine meal or spending money on expensive entertainment.

Females did love such things.

Leia watched as Chewie played another hologame,

this one against a Twi'lek with a gaudy dye job and

cheap jewelry on his tentacled head.

Chewie made a move and leaned back.

"Very good, Chewbacca," Threepio said. "Excellent

move."

The Twi'lek glanced at Threepio and gave him a

rather sick, toothy grin.

Leia leaned over to the protocol droid and whispered

to him, "What's going on here? I saw this

Twi'lek win four in a row against other players who

were a lot better than Chewie is."

Threepio looked at her. "Ah, well," he said, sotto

voce, "I took the liberty of mentioning to the Twi'lek

before the game what happens when Wookiees lose

such entertainments."

Leia looked blankly at him.

"You recall what Master Solo said about pulling

arms off?"

Leia shook her head. Han had been teasing Threepio

with that comment. Chewie was fierce enough in battle

but actually very even-tempered. She hadn't ever believed

that arm business. Though it appeared the

Twi'lek did.

If Black Sun didn't show up pretty soon, she was

144 S TAR WARS

going to develop a bad case of ship fever cooped up in

this place.

Guri sat across the table from three others. Two of

them were men; one was a Quarren. Behind her, a pair

of Gamorrean bodyguards stood watching. Guri was

unarmed.

"Your sources are mistaken," one of the men said.

That was Tuyay, the chief operating officer of Ororo

Transportation. A fitness buff, he bulged with muscle

even under his expensive tailored zeyd-cloth suit. Supposedly,

he could squat holding four times his own

weight on his shoulders without breaking a major

sweat. He did not look happy. In fact, he looked as if

he was about to burst a blood vessel.

"Are they?" Guri said. She slouched in the chair,

looked totally relaxed.

"M. Tuyay is correct. Ororo would not presume to

contend with Black Sun." That from Dellis Yuls, the

Squid Head and chief of security for the organization.

The other player, a thin, short, and nervous man,

nodded his assent. "No, of course not, we would never

tread in Prince Xizor's territory." This was Z. Limmer,

the chief financial officer.

"So," Guri said, "I should tell Prince Xizor that this

was all a mistake—that our agents are idiots who

couldn't find their backsides with both hands?"

"I would not put it precisely so," the Quarren said.

Tuyay looked at the other two sitting next to him

and snorted. "Sack this scat! I'm done playing doormat

to your boss. Yes, tell him that your agents are idiots!

Tell him that he is an idiot! Ororo isn't quaking in fear

of the terrible and mighty Dark Prince! We're out on

the Rim here, a long way from a soft bed and the decadent

pleasures of the Imperial Center, where Xizor

feathers his nest with our tribute. We earn our way

here; we deserve every decicred we collect! Tell him if

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 145

he doesn't like it, he can come out here and do something

about it."

Limmer swallowed and went pale. "I—I—I think

perhaps what M. Tuyay m-m-means to say is—"

"Shut up, Limmer, you little revo-worm! Don't try

to sweeten it." Tuyay glared at Guri. "Go home, little

girl. Leave now while I still permit it. And don't come

back. You do, and I might find a use for you you

wouldn't like." He grinned, and it was a wicked expression.

Guri smiled and stood, still looking as if she'd just

awakened from a long nap.

When she moved, it was incredibly fast. She hopped

up onto the table, threw a front somersault and landed

behind Tuyay, spun, and picked him up, chair and all.

Then she threw him at the two Gamorrean guards before

either could clear his blaster. The impact knocked

both of the piglike aliens flat.

Dellis Yuls pulled a small blaster from inside his tunic,

but before he could line up, Guri grabbed his wrist,

broke it, and removed the weapon from his hand. She

tossed it aside, grinning.

Limmer tried to stand, and she speared his throat

with her fingertips, paused long enough to twist Yuls's

neck until it cracked like a wet branch breaking, then

leaped over the table.

Tuyay came to his feet and turned. Guri grabbed

him around the throat as he did the same to her. For a

moment they stood there locked in stasis.

Tuyay crumbled, his face full of horror at her

strength. He lost consciousness as the blood was kept

from his brain.

Guri dropped him, reached down, pulled the blaster

from the belt of one of the stunned Gamorreans, then

used it to shoot both the bodyguards. One bolt each, in

the head.

She hopped up onto the table and down next to

146 STAR WARS

Limmer and Yuls and shot each of them at the base of

the skull.

Then she returned to where Tuyay lay trying to

breathe through his bruised throat. She squatted next

to him and waited until he came to and looked up at

her.

"I'll tell Prince Xizor what you said." She smiled

and almost carelessly shoved the blaster against

Tuyay's left eyeball and pulled the trigger.

Then she stood, walked to where a hidden security

wallcam recorded the entire scene, and ripped the unit

out of the wall.

The picture went black.

"Stop the recording," Xizor said.

He sighed and shook his head. The recording

showed him what he already knew. Guri was the deadliest

weapon in his arsenal. He wondered how she

would do in a one-on-one against Vader. Probably better

than he would, though he was fairly certain that

Vader, who had hunted down and killed Jedi adepts,

could take her.

Even so, it would be interesting to watch.

And at nine million credits, a very expensive entertainment,

should she lose.

"Run it again," he said.

He did love to see a professional at work.

16

o, where is Leia?" Luke asked.

He and Dash had returned to Ben's, each on a

swoop. The two swoops were under the camo-tarp

with the X-wing now. Dash's ship was in Mos Eisley at

the port.

"Gone to Rodia to connect up with Black Sun."

Luke nearly dropped the container of cold water he

held. "Black Sun! Is she out of her mind?"

Dash smirked. "Oh, you're an expert on them, are

you?"

"No, but I talked to Han a lot while we were

cooped up on Hoth during the cold, stormy nights. He

had dealings with them. He said they were more dangerous

than the Empire." He paused a second. "Why

would Leia want to contact Black Sun?"

Dash shrugged. "Got me. Maybe they might know

who wants you dead. The princess is fond of you,

though I can't see why. You gonna hold on to that water

until it evaporates?"

148 S TAR WARS

Luke glanced at the forgotten container. "Oh,

sorry." He handed the water to Dash, who poured

himself a large cup, then drank noisily from it.

The idea of Leia fooling around with a vicious underground

criminal organization didn't sit well. Still,

what was he going to do about it? She was a big girl;

she'd been taking care of herself okay before they'd

met. Well, if you didn't count getting captured by Vader.

Sure, he and Han and Chewie had rescued her

from that, but they hadn't exactly covered themselves

with glory doing it. They had covered themselves with

a stinking effluvium in that garbage pit . . .

"So, what's the drill, kid?"

"Huh?"

"We gonna sit around here and wait for them to

come back? Or you maybe want to go ask the Hutt

why he sent that comedy troupe out to zap you?"

"Jabba's got no reason to be after me."

"Unless somebody put him up to it. That's why I'm

here, remember? Since it's nice and quiet, I could teach

you how to fly those swoops right."

"Listen, they'd have never caught me in Beggar's

Canyon—"

Artoo began whistling and beeping frantically.

"I don't like the sound of that," Luke said.

"What is it?" Dash said.

"Something outside, sounds like. We'd better go

see."

Artoo beeped again.

Dash pulled his blaster and checked the charge reading.

Luke reached down to touch his lightsaber to assure

himself it was still hanging from his belt.

Artoo chirped and rolled toward the door.

Outside, they saw the fire of a braking rocket high

overhead.

"Looks like a message droid," Luke said.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 149

Artoo seemed to affirm that.

Dash blew out a breath and reholstered his blaster.

Message droids weren't something you had drop in

on you every day. They were used when fast delivery

was needed and you didn't want to risk the holonet

and its relays, but they were expensive and good for

only one shot; unless you had a new booster lying

around, you couldn't reuse them.

Artoo whistled again.

"That's awfully fast. I hope they shockproofed it,"

Luke said.

Dash had already started for the door.

Outside, the incoming vessel, tiny as it was, was visible

as it fell toward the desert floor half a klick away.

"Who knows you're here, kid?"

Luke shook his head. "Leia, Lando, Chewie,

Threepio."

"And Jabba," Dash said. "Though I don't think he'd

spend the money for a droid when he could make a

local com, he wanted to talk to you. Not to mention

kill you."

"Maybe it's for you," Luke offered.

"I doubt it. I don't leave forwarding addresses. Nobody

knows I'm here except your friends, and they

have no reason to call me."

Luke watched as the little message ship plummeted.

It began firing retros and slowing, but it was still coming

down pretty fast. The droid must've underestimated

the gravity or something.

Maybe it was for Ben. Somebody who had been out

of touch for a long time and didn't know he was . . .

gone.

The message carrier hit hard enough to splash sand

and make a noise they could hear five hundred meters

away.

"Let's go see," Dash said.

Luke ground his teeth. He started to say something

150 S TAR WARS

about giving orders, but held himself in check. Jedi

Knights were supposed to be even-tempered. He'd have

to work on that.

They started toward the ship.

In his inner sanctum, Xizor awoke from a light doze

to the sound of his personal and private comlink speaking

his name softly.

"Incoming call for you, Prince Shheezzorr."

Was that his imagination, or did the voxchip slur his

name as the chair he'd replaced had done?

Nothing lasted these days. Everything started to

break down before it was properly broken in. The Empire

was going to entropy in a turbolift.

"Put it through. And do a self-diagnostic on your

voxchip."

The small-scale holoproj flowered on his desk. It

was one of his local spies.

"Yes?"

"You asked me to inform you when Lord Vader returned

to his castle, my prince. He has just arrived."

The Dark Prince nodded. "Good. Maintain normal

surveillance procedures."

The spy nodded and broke the connection. His image

blinked out.

So, Vader had returned from the wars, having unwittingly

done Xizor's bidding by hitting Ororo where it

hurt the most, in the credit balance. Along with Guri's

little demonstration to the ranking officers, Ororo

would be well-behaved, at least in the near future.

Best he not call on Vader just yet. Doubtless the

Dark Lord of the Sith needed some time to cool down a

bit from the slap on the hand the Emperor had delivered.

Vader's main problem was that he allowed his

temper to rule him. A legacy of his mammalian heritage

—it was that way with many species and detrimental

nearly always. Cold allowed precision; heat threw cau-

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 151

tion aside and plunged in rampantly. Cold was the process

of deliberation and planning, heat the result of

unbridled passion. Passion was fine, but only when

controlled and channeled properly.

Take Princess Leia, for instance. She attracted him,

but he would bring her to him slowly and with care,

not in some wild chase in which he cast off his intellectual

moorings and sailed out on the sea of lust. Ah, no,

that was not the Falleen way. The Falleen way was

cold.

Cold was better than heat.

Always.

Darth Vader watched the spy via the holocam hidden

at the top of a street-cleaning droid. The droid moved

down the avenue like a giant mechanical snail, leaving

a trail of cleanliness behind it instead of slime, washing

the hard road with powerful jets and ablutants that

caused the surface to sparkle.

Xizor's spy sat at an outdoor food bar, pretending

to read a hard-copy newsfax as he dawdled over a hot

drink long gone cold.

Vader sighed and waved the picture off. This was

such a convoluted business, all this spying and intrigue.

True, he had learned the game; he played it well, as one

must to live on this world, but he did not enjoy it. Men

like Xizor and the Emperor took pleasure from their

manipulations, but Vader always felt . . . soiled when

he mucked around in all this double-dealing and triplecrossing.

He was a warrior, and as such, he would prefer

to plant himself in the path of an advancing army

alone to all this smiling-to-his-face while plotting an

enemy's ruin, which was the political core of Imperial

Center. Striking a man down with your blade was clean

and honorable. Shooting him in the back from the

darkness of an alley and hurrying to blame it on another

was something else altogether.

152 S TAR WARS

He turned away from the monitors. Yes, he could do

it, and yes, it was necessary; still, he did not have to

like it.

Sooner or later, he would have the evidence he

needed against Xizor. The more tangled the web, the

more likely it was that the weaver would eventually

trap himself in it. Sooner or later the man would make

a fatal mistake, and when he did, Vader would strike

Xizor down—and explain why to the Emperor afterward.

There was a thought he enjoyed.

The message droid, a compact, rounded box with an

antigrav unit that allowed it to hover and move a couple

of meters off the ground, was apparently undamaged

by the delivery vessel's hard impact on the desert.

The box, half the size of Artoo, floated in front of Luke

and Dash now in Ben's house.

It didn't look damaged, but something must have

rattled loose inside it. "I have a message for Princess

Leia Organa," it said for the fifth time.

"How many times do I have to tell you she isn't

here?" Luke said. "Artoo, can you talk to this thing?"

Artoo moved closer to the droid, whistled and

beeped rapidly, and ended by flashing lights from its

holoprojector at the thing.

There was a pause as some system adjusted itself inside

the droid.

"I am empowered to deliver the message to ah authorized

representative of Princess Leia Organa, in her

absence," it said.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Luke said. "Tell

me. I'm her, uh, authorized representative."

He grinned at Dash, who shook his head.

"Password?" the droid asked.

Password? What would Leia use as a password?

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 153

"Uh, Luke Skywalker."

"That password is incorrect."

Dash laughed.

"Uh, Han Solo?"

"That password is incorrect."

"We could be here a real long time while you rattle

off all the names you know, Luke."

"Shut up, will you? I'm thinking."

"Ah, well, wouldn't want to interfere with that,

would we?"

Luke did think about it. It had to be something simple,

he figured, something Leia wouldn't forget. What

was the first thing that came to mind when he thought

about her?

Forget that.

"Uh, Alderaan?"

"Password correct."

A sliding plate on the droid moved and exposed a

holoprojector. After a second a holoproj blinked on.

A short, long-haired, and bearded Bothan stood

there, dressed in a forest-green overtunic, pants, and

boots, a long military-style blaster strapped to his waist

and right leg.

"Greetings, Princess Leia. Koth Melan here, speaking

to you from my homeworld of Bothawui. Our spy

network has uncovered information vital to the Alliance,

and the nature of these data are of such significance

as to justify sending this messenger droid. You

must come to Bothawui immediately. I cannot overemphasize

the importance of this information, or the urgency.

Time is of the essence. I will be at the

Intergalactic Trade Mission for five days. The Alliance

must act in that time or the information may be lost."

The projection shut down.

"Well, well," Dash said. "Somebody is in a big

hurry. We could just make it to Bothawui before his

deadline if I pushed my ship hard. Even that X-wing

154 STAR WARS

crate of yours might do it, though I wouldn't bet on

it."

"We need to get this information to Leia," Luke

said.

"Not a chance, kid. We can't use the holonet 'cause

we don't know where she is exactly. We can't just call

and ask, now can we? 'Excuse me, can you tell me

where one of the Empire's most wanted enemies is,

please?' "

"All right, I get it."

"Yeah, well, time we got to Rodia, found her, and

she got back to Bothawui, it'd be a standard week at

the least."

Luke stared at the message droid. What were they

going to do? This sounded big, really big.

"Well," he said. "I guess we'll have to go in her

place, then."

"Why? The message was for her."

"I'm her designated representative. I got the password

right. Whatever this Koth Melan has got, he can

tell it to me."

"Doesn't sound too bright to me. A Bothan spymaster

is just going to roll over and give it up, just like

that? And his name doesn't sound right, either.

'Melan'? That's not Bothan."

"Nobody asked you. You're supposed to be a bodyguard,

right? You don't care about the Alliance."

"Not unless they want to hire me, you got that

right."

"Fine. I'm going. You do whatever you want."

Dash grinned. "Well. You're worth more to me alive

than dead; I'd better protect my fee. I'll take one of the

swoops into town and get my ship. Meet you in orbit."

Luke nodded. He didn't much like Dash, but the guy

was good with a gun, and he could fly. That counted

for a lot. "Let's go get the X-wing, Artoo. We're going

for a ride."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 155

Artoo didn't seem to think it was a particularly good

idea, either.

Too bad, Luke thought. A Jedi Knight wouldn't just

sit around when there was vital Alliance business in the

works, would he? No. He wouldn't.

17

"I'm thowwy," Avaro said. "Black Thun dothn't hop

when I thay tho."

Leia shook her head in disgust. She and Chewie

were in Avaro's office, and once again he put them off.

Lando was happy as a stilepig in warm mud; he was

winning most of the card games he played. Even

Chewie was enjoying the casino, but if something

didn't break pretty soon, Leia was going to start pulling

her hair out. Sitting around and doing nothing was

not her style.

"Okay," she said. "Tell you what. If somebody

doesn't show up here in the next week, we'll try elsewhere."

Avaro shrugged. "Thuit yowahthelf."

Little chance of that, Leia thought. It would suit her

to be moving, to be doing something, to find out who

was after Luke and why. It seemed awfully clumsy of

Vader to have engineered that attempt by the crew

chief so that it could be traced back to the Dark Lord

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 157

of the Sith so easily. She didn't have any other ideas as

to who might be gunning for Luke, but sometimes

when a thing looked too easy, it was.

Other times, it wasn't.

She stood and left Avaro's office. She didn't have a

lot of choice here. She'd wait, but she wouldn't like it.

Guri was about to leave for Rodia when Xizor

stopped her. "Before you go there, I have another errand

for you. There is a secret document in my personal

files under the heading 'Route.' You know what

it is."

"Yes."

"Download it and see that it gets into the hands of

our Bothan double agent on Bothawui. Make certain

he knows that we are responsible for its delivery."

Guri said nothing, but he could feel her reluctance.

He said, "You disapprove."

"It does not seem to be in your best interests to do

this," she said.

"Ah, but it is. Having Black Sun put this tidbit into

the Rebels' hands gratis will make them much more apt

to trust us. In the unlikely event the Empire should lose

this war, the Alliance will remember us as friends and

not enemies."

Guri nodded. She understood, whether she agreed or

not. "Highness."

She left.

Xizor considered Guri's worry as he went over the

plan again. The new information was in addition to

intelligence he had already caused to be discovered by

the Bothans. There was some slight risk, but not much,

given that which was to be gained. The Empire was

strong, and he did not really think that the Alliance

would triumph, but it was a stupid man who never

considered remote possibilities. Stranger things had

happened. People were struck by lightning; meteorites

158 S TAR WARS

hit them out of a clear sky; the beating of a moth's

wings on the north coast could be the breeze that

helped spin a tornado on the south coast. A prudent

player took no unnecessary risks, but there were times

when a calculated leap had to be made over a deep

abyss. This was one of those times, and as usual, it was

a double-edged blade. Swung with care, it would cut

both ways.

Just as it was supposed to cut.

Reaching Bothawui wasn't so hard, though it got a

little tricky when they dropped back into realspace. An

Imperial patrol buzzed the planet. Luke and Dash had

to do some fancy flying to avoid them.

There didn't seem to be any quarantine, and they

made it to the surface of the world. Caught a pubtrans

flitter from the port into the city.

Luke had never been on Bothawui, and he was interested

in how clean and well maintained it was compared

to his homeworld. It was a sunny spring day

locally. There was a token force of Imperial stormtroopers

hanging around in small groups, but it seemed

as if the Bothans had control of the port itself. The

streets were wide, many of the tall buildings were glittery

with some kind of natural stone. Most of the people

he saw were, of course, Bothans, but there were a

fair number of other aliens out and about. Very cosmopolitan,

given the war and all. He said as much to

Dash.

"Yeah, well, a lot of spying goes on," Dash said.

"And Bothawui is one of the more active hubs for operatives

from around the galaxy. The Empire has its

own spies here; so does the Alliance, and they've all

pretty much decided to let the place be neutral territory."

They made it to the Intergalactic Trade Mission,

paid the fare, and got out.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 159

Getting inside to see Koth Melan was a little harder.

The Bothan guard wanted to see a pass, and they

didn't have one. Luke wasn't particularly interested in

telling the guard who he was, given that he was a

wanted man.

Maybe he should try to use the Force on the

Bothan? He'd done Ben's trick a couple of times, and it

had worked for him. Plus he could impress Dash a little.

But before Luke could gather the Force to sway the

guard, Dash pulled the Bothan aside, spoke a few

words, and pressed something into his hand.

The guard smiled and waved them into the building.

"What'd you say to him?" Luke asked.

"Not much. But that hundred-credit coin I gave him

said, 'Hey, these are good guys—what say you just let

them in?' "

"You bribed him?"

"You don't get out much, do you? That's how things

work out here in the real galaxy. Money is the lube

that makes all things move. We're inside, so we're

happy. The guard can buy his spouse or his femfriend a

nice gift, so he's happy. Nobody got hurt. If we get

caught, the guard never saw us before. It's the cost of

doing business."

Luke shook his head. But maybe Dash had a point.

Was giving the credits any worse than clouding his

mind with the Force? Yeah, it was for a good cause and

it would have been justified, but wasn't a few credits

also justified?

He'd have to think about that a little more.

Dash, meanwhile, walked up to an information

droid parked in the lobby of the building. "Where

might we find Koth Melan?" he asked it.

The droid had a deep, sonorous voice. "Level sixteen,

number seven," it said.

"Thanks."

They moved toward the turbolifts.

160 STAR WARS

Another droid, this one a protocol model much like

Threepio, staffed the desk in the anteroom of the office

to which Luke and Dash had been directed. The droid's

metal skin was polished to a gleaming gold.

"Good morning. How may I assist you?" he asked

them.

"Princess Leia is supposed to see Koth Melan," Luke

said.

"You are Princess Leia?"

Luke frowned, "No, no, I'm not Princess Leia. I'm

her . . . representative. Luke Skywalker. We don't exactly

have an appointment. But he wants to see her, so

he'll want to see us."

The droid said, "I don't believe that is a logical assumption."

"Look, just tell him we're here, okay?"

"I'm afraid I cannot admit you without an appointment.

Master Melan is a very busy Bothan. Nor can I

bother him with every little thing. Perhaps I can arrange

for you to see him in, oh, perhaps a standard

week? Your names?"

Luke frowned. How could they convince this droid

to let them in? Couldn't bribe him, the Force wouldn't

work—

Dash grinned and pulled his blaster. Pointed it at the

droid. "Okay, Goldie. My name is Man with a Blaster

About to Cook You. Either you open the door or your

busy Bothan is going to have to get himself a new receptionist."

"Oh, dear," the droid said.

"And no security alarms, either," Dash said. "I'm

watching you real carefully. Up, and do the door manually."

The protocol droid said, "Very well, Man with a

Blaster About to Cook You."

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 161

Luke and Dash exchanged wry looks. Droids could

be too literal at times.

The droid tapped a code into the keypad next to the

inner door. It slid open.

"Inside," Dash ordered.

The droid preceded them into a large office. Sitting

behind a desk in front of a clear wall of transparisteel

was the Bothan who'd sent the message to Leia.

Well, at least Luke thought it was the same one.

They all looked pretty much alike to him.

"Master Melan, I'm sorry to interrupt, but—"

"It's all right, R-Zero-Four. Go back to your desk.

I'll see these gentlemen."

"Hardly gentle, sir," the droid called R0-4 said.

"They said to me they were Princess Leia. They threatened

me with bodily harm!"

"Never mind, R-Zero-Four." To Dash, the Bothan

said, "Put away the hardware, Rendar. You don't need

it."

Dash blinked, surprised, but holstered his weapon.

The droid left, closing the door behind him.

Luke stepped forward. "Excuse the way we came in,

but we had to see you."

Melan smiled. "I know. You're Luke Skywalker, and

you are Dash Rendar. I've been expecting you. Please,

take a seat."

Luke and Dash exchanged quick glances.

"Perhaps I should explain," Melan said. "I discovered

that Princess Organa was no longer on Tatooine a

short time ago, too late to recall the messenger droid I

sent. Because you are here, I assume you knew the

password she and I agreed upon."

He looked at Luke. "I know your reputation and

your work for the Alliance."

He glanced over at Dash. "I also know your reputation,

M. Rendar, though I'm surprised to see you working

for the Alliance."

162 S TAR WARS

Dash shrugged. "I'm not. I'm working for the princess."

"Ah, well. No matter. You're here and now we can

get to the business at hand."

"You took kind of a risk letting us barge in here

with a blaster that way," Dash said. "We could have

been Imperial assassins in disguise."

Melan treated them to another smile. "Not really.

I've known you were here since you landed at the port.

You were scanned first at the doorway to the building

by the guard you 'bribed,' then on the turbolift, and

positively identified. If you had been assassins in disguise,

you would have arrived on a level with a dozen

armed guards pointing their weapons at you when the

lift doors opened."

Luke and Dash glanced at each other.

"I have many enemies," Melan continued. "I have

learned to be cautious."

Luke moved to one of the chairs and sat. Dash did

the same.

"What is so important that you sent a message droid

to Leia?" Luke asked.

"The Empire has embarked on a new military project,"

Melan began. "We do not yet know what or

where the project is, but we do know it is vast—the

Emperor has diverted huge amounts of money, material,

and men for this secret enterprise."

"How did you come by this information?" Luke

asked.

"The Bothan spynet is second to none," Melan said.

There seemed to be a touch of pride in his voice. "As

you thought you did with the guard on the street, we

bribed a high-ranking Imperial officer. With what he

gave us, we tried to infiltrate a slicer droid into the

main computer complex on Coruscant to locate and

copy the plans for this secret venture. Unfortunately,

this portion of the plan failed.

"What we have learned as a result of this failure is

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 163

that the plans are kept closely guarded in special computers

with no outside lines. There is thus no way to

obtain this information from a distance by comlink, no

access to these systems save by direct hands-on contact.

"From what little else we've learned of it, this project

does not bode well for the Alliance."

Luke nodded. "So, what are we supposed to do

about it?"

"Our operatives have collected intelligence that indicates

one of the secured computers is being sent from

Coruscant to Bothawui. We believe the Alliance would

be served by obtaining this computer and cracking it

open, to see what the Empire is up to."

Luke nodded again. "That sounds reasonable."

Dash said, "Excuse me, but why are you so hot to

help out the Alliance? I thought the Bothan spynet's job

was to gather and sell information, not get involved

with strategy and tactics."

Melan looked grim. "Twenty years ago the Empire

had my father executed for espionage."

"That's one of the risks of this business, isn't it?"

"Yes, and one I take. But all Bothans are not spies,

M. Rendar. My father was a teacher. He was guilty of

nothing save trying to educate his students about the

Empire. You will have noticed my name doesn't end in

the normal 'y'lya' honorific. Until the Empire is defeated,

I can have no true honor."

Dash nodded. "That explains that."

Luke thought about his aunt and uncle, turned into

smoldering corpses at the farm on Tatooine. He understood

how Melan felt.

"I would think that you might have a grudge against

the Empire yourself," Melan continued, staring at

Dash. "After what the Emperor did to you and your

family."

Dash gritted his teeth; Luke saw his jaw muscles

flex. "That's none of your business," he said.

Luke didn't say anything, though the question

164 STAR WARS

leaped to the top tier of his mind: What did they do to

you, Dash?

Instead, Luke said, "If the Empire is going to all this

trouble, we'd best find out why. How do we get our

hands on this computer?"

Melan nodded. "Our operatives have learned that

the Empire intends to send the plans incognito, on an

unescorted ship posing as a simple freighter carrying

fertilizer. They reason that such a ship will not draw

the attention of the Alliance the way a heavily armed

convoy would."

"A freighter full of fertilizer?" Dash said. "That is

devious. Who'd hijack that?"

"Our operatives inform us that they will be able to

obtain the route of the disguised ship shortly. When

they do, it will be but a matter of a day or two before

the vessel arrives. There are Bothans who have Alliance

sympathies willing to help secure the freighter, but they

are relatively unskilled at such sorties. It would help if

they had a commander with some experience in space

battles to lead them."

Luke smiled. "That's me." He turned to Dash.

"What about you? You in?"

"Risk my ship and neck? For what?"

"I thought you wanted to keep me alive."

"You ain't worth that much."

"One freighter? Against a squad of Bothans and me

in my X-wing? How dangerous can it be? A piece of

cake."

Dash appeared to consider it.

"Besides, if the information in the computer is as

valuable as it seems to be, the Alliance might be willing

to give you a bonus for helping collect it. Could be

worth a few thousand credits, maybe more."

Dash looked at him. "All right. I got nothing else to

do. Why not?"

Luke grinned. This guy did remind him a lot of Han.

18

The Emperor was normally a clever man. He seldom

did anything that Darth Vader thought particularly unwise,

much less stupid.

Yet as Vader stood before his master in the Emperor's

castle, this latest bit of twisted business fit

squarely into the latter category. Stupid—and dangerous.

Not that he would dare say so—to the Emperor's

face or behind his back. But the Emperor was not so

powerful as to be able to read thoughts. Just as well,

too, because if he could, surely he would destroy Vader

here where he stood for his opinion of this foolishness.

Then again, Vader thought as he stared at his master,

could he read thoughts, it was doubtful this . . .

plan would ever have come to pass.

"You disapprove, Lord Vader?"

"It is not my place to disapprove, my master."

"Quite so."

Later, as he walked toward his castle, Vader consid-

166 STAR WARS

ered his response to this new gambit. There seemed little

he could do save to monitor the situation. To stand

still and watch.

This did not improve his mood.

Luke and Dash traveled with Koth Melan in his private

landspeeder to a base hidden in the mountains two

standard hours away from the city. Here they met with

the squad of Bothan pilots and weapons officers and

inspected their ships.

The dozen fighters were BTL-S3s—two-seat

Y-wings, the Alliance's most common attack craft.

They weren't as fast as X-wings or TIEs, didn't have

the firepower, but were rugged and could take a lot of

punishment. Not the latest or the best ships in vacuum,

but they ought to be more than enough to stop a single

freighter. They wore Alliance colors and ID codes.

"Buncha antiques," Dash said. "Probably have to

get out and push if you want to go any faster than a

broke-leg droid."

Luke ignored him. To the leader of the squad he

said, "You have astromechs for all of these?"

The leader, a Bothan who looked as young for his

species as Luke was, nodded. "Yes, we have droids.

And all the ships have Taim & Bak IX-Four laser cannons

run off standard Novaldex generators. Unfortunately,

we don't have proton torpedoes for the Arakyrd

launchers."

Luke shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We don't want to

blast the freighter anyhow, we want it in one piece.

How much flying time does your squad have?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. Most of us are relatively

new. A hundred hours or less in these birds. But the

boys are quick, and the gunners are pretty fair shots,

though we haven't gotten much practice."

That wasn't so good. "We have a few days before

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 167

we get our target location," Luke said. "Maybe we can

find a place to do a few maneuvers."

"We'd love that, Commander Skywalker. The squad

is at your disposal."

Luke grinned. He did still like the sound of that.

Commander Skywalker. He could see it becoming Colonel

Skywalker, General Skywalker. Wouldn't interfere

with his Jedi studies to be a general—Ben had been a

general, hadn't he?

That path would have to begin later. First this; then

Han had to be rescued. That might be tough, but for a

slow run against a dung freighter, surely he could get

these guys into shape in a couple of days?

Leia was contemplating putting a credit coin into one

of the rigged gambling machines. She was so bored, she

was about ready to give it a try.

Avaro approached her. "I just got a com fwom offplanet.

Black Thun'th wepwethentative ith en woute.

Thee will be hewah in thwee dayth."

Leia felt a rush of relief. Thank goodness. Then, as

Avaro waddled off, she thought about what he'd just

said. "Thee" will be here in three days?

She?

Well, why not? No rule said a woman couldn't be a

criminal.

In a perverse way, it pleased her that the representative

from Black Sun would be a woman.

And about time she got here, too.

The operative they were awaiting arrived at the hidden

base on Bothawui three days after Luke and Dash.

Koth Melan ushered the operative into a private room,

where the four of them met.

"Here are the coordinates of the flight plan," the

168 S TAR WARS

agent said. He produced a tiny computer and laid it on

the table.

Melan said, "Any more information on what the

project might be?"

"Not even rumors. This is closed up tighter than a

Corellian clam."

"Too bad."

The agent looked just like a hundred other Bothans

Luke had seen. Put him in a crowd and he'd disappear.

"You believe these directions to be valid?" Melan

asked. He nodded at the small computer.

"I do. I received them from our underworld contact.

She has never delivered false information before."

"Underworld contact?" Luke said.

"Black Sun," the agent said.

Luke and Dash glanced at each other. Luke said,

"Black Sun?"

Melan answered. "It appears that the organization is

courting the Alliance," he said. "They have several

times provided us with valuable intelligence. I believe

they think the Alliance will win the war against the

Empire."

"They must be the only ones," Dash said.

Melan looked at Dash but ignored what he'd said.

"War, like politics, sometimes makes for strange

bedfellows. One uses the tools one has."

Luke shook his head. "I don't like it. They must expect

something in return." And it seemed awfully coincidental

that Leia had gone to seek out Black Sun and

here they were delivering invaluable information.

Something wasn't quite right about that.

"They have not asked for anything."

"Yet," Dash said.

"Okay," Luke said. "Put that aside for now. If this

information is right, how long before we need to

launch and get ready?"

"Your squad of volunteers has already been put on

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 169

alert," Melan said. "We'll need to be in position in less

than three standard hours to make the rendezvous."

" 'We'?"

"I'll be going along," Melan said. "If Dash Rendar

has room on his ship?"

Dash gave the Bothan a lazy grin. "No problem.

Can you cook? Might want to grab a bite while we

collect this freighter."

"I doubt we'll have time to eat," Luke said.

"Maybe you won't, kid, but I can fly and eat at the

same time."

Luke had to grin. This guy was so full of himself it

was a wonder he didn't explode and spew ego all over

the place.

"Better get to our ships," Luke said.

Dash gave him a mock salute. "Aye, aye, Commander."

Time to go.

Luke led the dozen Y-wings away from the planet in

the sensor shadow of the local moon, to help them

avoid Imperial patrols. Although the formation was a

little ragged, they flew pretty well for a group who'd

had only minimal time in the craft. He wouldn't want

to take them into battle against the best TIE wing in

the Imperial Navy, but they ought to be able to help

surround a freighter and stop it.

The coordinates and time were coming around, and

he turned his attention to the ambush.

Behind him, Dash flew his chrome ship, nearly invisible

against the backdrop of airless space, with Koth

Melan as a passenger.

"Keep in tight, boys," Luke said into his comm.

"We're almost on station. Let's hear you sound off,

Blue Squad."

The pilots of the Y-wings logged in. He'd kept it

170 S TAR WARS

simple; each of the attack ships got a number, and he'd

christened the unit with a color.

"Copy," Luke said. "We're there. Stall 'em in position."

Blue Squadron obeyed, bringing their fighters to a

halt. They floated in the middle of nowhere, waiting. If

the information was correct, the freighter ought to be

popping out of hyperspace less than a hundred kilometers

dead ahead—

The freighter pilot must have overslept. The ship

dropped into realspace, all right, but only fifty klicks

away.

It was a stock light freighter, Corellian, though different

in configuration from the Millennium Falcon. Instead

of the saucerlike body with the twin nose and

offset control cockpit, this was a long oval with the

ends squared off, with a rectangular, detachable cargo

container slung under its belly. It looked kind of like a

graphic of a giant blaster.

"Heads up, Blue Squad, there's our target. Attack

formation!"

The ship came out of hyperspace relatively slowly,

but since it was closer than anticipated, they didn't

have much time. Luke switched to a standard operations

channel and hailed the freighter.

"Attention on board the freighter Suprosa. This is

Commander Skywalker of the Alliance. Shut down

your engines and prepare to be boarded."

If everything went as planned, Koth Melan, in a vacsuit,

would be escorted on board the freighter by a couple

of guards and technicians also riding with Dash.

They'd be in and out in a few minutes.

"This is the captain of the freighter Suprosa. Are

you crazy?" came the reply. "We're hauling fertilizer

here! What kind of pirates are you?"

"We're not pirates. Like I said, we are with the Alliance.

And maybe we have a big garden. Pull it up, Captain,

and nobody gets hurt."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 171

There came a long pause. It was possible the pilot

didn't know what he was hauling, but Luke didn't believe

that. If he didn't know, he'd have no objection to

being boarded. If he did—

"Listen, pal, I'm working under contract to XTS and

my orders are to deliver my cargo to the agent on

Bothawui. Why don't you go bother somebody smuggling

guns or spice or something?"

"Captain, either you shut down your engines or

we'll shut them down for you. Some of my gunners can

pick flies off a wall with their laser cannons." Well, it

was possible, though he hadn't seen any of them shooting

quite that well during maneuvers. The freighter pilot

didn't know that.

The freighter suddenly dropped its cargo module,

speeded up, and turned to starboard.

It was going to make a run for it.

Luke switched back to the tactical opchan. "Gotta

do it the hard way, boys. Target the engines only! If

you aren't sure, don't take the shot—we don't want to

blow this baby up. Move in!"

The distance between Blue Squadron and the

freighter decreased in a hurry. This was stupid; the ship

was unarmed and much slower than the Y-wings. If

they wanted to cook the captain, he was dinner—and

he had to know it.

The freighter tried to move at a right angle to the

incoming fighters, but they were almost in range. Luke

was in the lead; his ship was faster than the Y-wings,

and it would take only a couple of blasts to knock out

the engines, assuming they had standard shields.

Another two seconds . . .

Artoo whistled.

Uh-oh. Luke didn't like what he heard. "Put it on

screen, Artoo."

The image of the freighter appeared on Luke's

screen.

Where there had been four smooth sections of hull

172 S TAR WARS

before, red lights now blinked. Another two spots

flashed blue.

Plates had slid back on the freighter to reveal hidden

weapons.

"Heads up, everybody, this thing has got teeth! He's

got laser cannons fore and aft and what looks like missile

launchers ventral and dorsal. Watch yourselves!"

Luke put his X-wing into a sweeping turn as the

freighter's port laser fired. The blast was close enough

to scramble his comm.

One of the Y-wings, Blue Four, dived at the

freighter, targeting its engine compartment. Luke saw

the fighter's beam stroke the target, but the bright blue

splash as the beam hit revealed that the freighter had

augmented shields.

Not such an easy target after all—

The freighter's cannon found Blue Four, and the

ship blew apart.

Man, that must be some wattage behind those guns!

"Break off, circle, and regroup!" Luke called into his

comm.

Blue Two was on the way in, and it aborted its attack

run.

Too late. Blue Two became shattered history.

Four of the Bothan ships looped away in pretty good

formation, Dash in the Outrider in tandem with them.

Luke was close enough to see the missile port on top

of the freighter blow a cloud of gas into space that

crystallized and glittered under the local sun's light.

"He's got a missile off!" Luke yelled.

"I got it," Dash said. "I'll hammer that spike into

scrap."

Luke watched Dash's ship roll and dive, and his

robotic guns began spewing coherent bolts of energy.

He couldn't see the missile, but he saw Dash continuing

his attack, saw the guns spraying their hardlight spears.

"Blast!" Dash said. "I've got to be hitting it! Why

doesn't it stop?"

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 173

"Dash! Come on!" Luke yelled.

"Shut up, I've got it, stop, you blasted piece of junk,

stop!"

"Move, Dash!"

"No, I'll get it!"

"Incoming!" Blue Six yelled. "Scatter!"

The four fighters tried to split up, separated like an

opening fist.

Too late.

The missile exploded among them, and when the

blast cleared, all four ships, eight Bothans, were gone.

"I can't have missed," Dash said, his voice incredulous.

"I can't."

Luke's anger swept over him as he put the X-wing

into a sharp and twisting turn. He headed right at the

freighter. Six of his squadron had been destroyed, just

like that. And Dash, hotshot Dash, he'd screwed up

royally. If it hadn't cost lives, Luke would have felt that

the braggart got what he deserved. If he'd had any

doubts that the crew of the freighter knew what they

carried, they were gone now.

He was too incensed to use the Force. He ignored

the energy beams stabbing at him, ignored Artoo's cacophony

of whistles and bleats, ignored everything but

the engine compartment of the freighter under his guns.

Fired. Fired again and again. Saw the radiation absorbed

by the shields, saw the blue glow brighten. Saw

the force field give way under his attack. Saw the engine

compartment rupture, smoke, flash red and purple

as his laser beams baked and killed it.

"I couldn't have missed," Dash said. He sounded

dazed.

"Stow that, Dash," Luke ordered. "It's too late to

worry about it now. Get ready to bring your ship in."

Luke switched channels. To the freighter, he said,

"Your engines are dead, Captain, and that's what you

and your crew will be if you fire another laser or missile,

do you copy?"

174 STAR WARS

A brief pause. "We copy."

"You are hereby considered prisoners of war. Stand

by to be boarded. If you value your lives, best you

don't mess with your real cargo. If anything happens to

it, you will suffer the same fate."

Luke shut off his comm. Oh, man. He'd lost half his

squad. He should have known it was too easy to be

true. A dozen Bothans had died to secure this vessel

and its computer. He should have been ready for a

trick. He should have known better than to trust the

Empire. He should have realized that Dash was more

talk than substance.

He was a lousy commander. Every time he went out,

he lost people. And there was nobody else to blame for

this. Yeah, Dash had failed him, but it was his responsibility,

he was the commander of the mission. He'd

thought it would be so easy. A piece of cake, he'd told

Dash.

Yeah. He was too cocky, too self-confident, too certain

the Force would show him the right path. Wrong.

On some level, it made him angry. The Force didn't

always come when he needed it.

But the dark side would be there if you needed it.

Always.

Oh no you don't. Don't even think about going

down that road.

But it was tempting. All that power. He had felt

it . . .

He shook his head. He hoped whatever was in the

computer the freighter was carrying was worth what it

had cost to collect it. It had better be.

19

Avaro sent a menial to tell them that the representative

from Black Sun had arrived. He offered to provide a

room, and Leia politely declined. She'd had Lando rent

a place two casinos away from here, and he and the

droid had recently checked it carefully for spy devices.

She trusted Avaro about as far as she could throw him.

"Tell her to meet us at the Next Chance," she told

the flunky, who bowed and left.

Leia approached Chewie where he was playing a

board game with Threepio, the other gamblers in the

place having been convinced it was wiser to let the

Wookiee win than not.

"Let's go, boys. We have company."

Chewie and Threepio stood and followed her from

the casino.

Lando was on the way to their rented suite, to do

another fast pass on the place and to set up security.

He'd be hiding with his blaster drawn when the Black

176 S TAR WARS

Sun rep showed up. Chewie would watch the door

from the hall, and Threepio would stay with her.

Outside, the day had shaded into early night, damp

and hot still, and the facades of the gambling casinos

might not have seemed quite so run-down if not for the

garish lighting installed on the exteriors. Clear plastic

pipes full of electroreactive gases that glowed in a

dozen different colors, most of them bright, cast multicolored

glare and shadows in all directions. The lights

went with the rest of it: Everything in the complex

seemed to be artificial; even the bioengineered lawns

and shrubbery looked fake.

Somewhere in the darkness somebody yelled. Leia

heard the sound of boots running, followed by more

hoarse screams. She touched the butt of her blaster,

tucked into a holster inside the waistband of her pants.

Even with Chewie looming over her, she felt better

knowing she had a weapon. The night here was as dangerous

as a skirmish with the Empire. People who had

lost big money gambling sometimes did desperate

things. The local news stat listed the number of

murders on its back page every morning—a slaying had

to be particularly gruesome or spectacular to make the

front of the stat.

They arrived at the Next Chance without incident,

however, and went straight to the suite.

Lando, blaster in hand, met them at the door when

they buzzed.

"Everything set?"

"Yes," he said. He waved at the suite's meeting

room. There was a desk with a computer inset at one

end of the room, two couches, three chairs, and a small

table. A bar and a cooler were tucked into the corner

opposite the door. Two sliding doors led to the refresher

and an adjoining bedroom. "I'll be behind the

bedroom door," Lando said. "In case the Black Sun rep

needs to use the refresher."

"Good. Chewie, you've got the hall."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 177

Chewbacca nodded and moved out into the hall, his

bowcaster slung over his back.

"Okay, Threepio, you stand over there, next to the

bar."

Leia moved to the desk and sat behind it. Might as

well try to keep this on a businesslike basis. She sat,

took a deep breath, blew it out.

She'd met with Alliance officials, generals, heads of

planets, as well as Imperial governors and Senators, so

rank didn't scare her. But she'd never had a face-to-face

meeting with a major underworld player before. At

least not that she knew about. She was a little nervous.

She didn't know quite what to expect.

Chewie called from the hallway.

Sounded as if their caller had arrived.

"Send her in," Leia said.

The door opened.

The computer was the size of a small carrying case. It

was black and nearly featureless, save for a control

panel along one edge. Koth Melan held the thing easily

on his palms.

They were on board the Outrider in the ship's

lounge. Dash sprawled on a built-in chair, staring at

the wall, not saying anything. He was stunned at his

failure to stop the missile that had taken out four of the

Y-wings. As much as Luke had wanted to see Dash

taken down a notch, that was not how he would have

seen it done. Dash was disappointed that he wasn't as

good as he'd thought he was, but at least he was alive

—more than he could say about half his attack unit.

Luke also stared, but at the small computer. Once

again, he hoped whatever was in it was worth the lives

of a dozen Bothans.

"Can you access the program?"

Melan shook his head. "No. It will be encrypted and

protected by an automatic destruct device. Only an ex-

178 STAR WARS

pert can circumvent the wards. Our best team is on

Kothlis, a Bothan colony world a few light-years from

here. We'll transport it there and find out what we've

got."

"I'd like to go along," Luke said.

"Of course. I'll give you coordinates; you can reach

it easily in your X-wing."

"Dash?"

The man didn't answer but continued to stare at

nothing. This had really hit him hard. Luke even felt

sorry for him.

"Dash," he said again.

Dash blinked, as if coming out of a trance. "Huh?"

Luke had seen it before. Battle shock.

To Melan, Luke said, "Are we apt to run into any

Imperial problems on the way to Kothlis?"

Melan shrugged. "Who can say? It is possible."

"Would it be possible for your organization to locate

Princess Leia?"

"As of yesterday, she was at Avaro Sookcool's casino

in the gambling complex on Rodia."

Luke shook his head. These guys were good. He

looked at Dash. He couldn't bring him along, not the

way he was now. He was too rattled.

"Dash . . ."

"I had it in my sights," Dash said. "No way I could

have missed."

"Dash!"

"Huh? What?"

"Go to Rodia. Find Princess Leia and tell her about

the computer and the secret plans. You got it?"

"I should go with you."

"No, it's more important that you find the princess."

Luke felt as if he were talking to a child.

Dash blinked. Stared at Luke. "All right. Rodia.

Plans. Got it."

"We'll meet later," Luke said. "Okay?"

"Meet you later, uh-huh."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 179

"You going to be all right?"

"Yeah."

Luke turned back to Melan, who looked sympathetic.

"It is war," Melan said. "Bad things happen."

Luke nodded. One more thing the Empire had to

answer for.

Whatever she had been expecting, Leia thought, Guri

was not it.

The woman from Black Sun was gorgeous, strikingly

beautiful, with long, blond hair and a trim figure. She

wore a short black cloak over black thinskins and calf

boots, with a belt of pebbly red leather slung low over

her hips. If she had a weapon Leia couldn't spot it. She

moved with the grace of a professional dancer.

She sat across from Leia and smiled. When she

spoke, Guri's voice was cool and even: "How may we

serve you, Princess?"

Leia repressed a smile. Direct and to the point, this

woman. But Leia had been too long a diplomat to blurt

out what she wanted to a stranger. There needed to be

some ritual circling, a few feints, a bit of misdirection.

One did not leap from a high cliff into unknown waters;

there could be dangerous things lurking just under

the surface. It was a good idea to probe carefully first.

She didn't know anything about this icy blonde, what

her status was in her organization, what their goals

were, what they wanted from those they dealt with.

While the Alliance would not enter into a partnership

with criminals, Leia was not above using whatever eyes

and ears she needed to keep Luke alive, and she did not

represent the Alliance in this meeting—though she

would keep that to herself.

"I understand that Black Sun has a first-rate intelligence-

gathering capability," she said.

Guri flashed a smile. "We hear things from time to

time."

180 S TAR WARS

"Care for some refreshment?" Leia nodded toward

the bar and Threepio.

Guri looked that way. "Tea, if it is not too much

trouble. Hot."

Leia looked at Threepio. "And the same for me,

please."

"At once," Threepio said. He began making the tea.

"Your flight was pleasant?" Leia said.

Guri smiled. "Very. I trust that Avaro has made your

wait here equally pleasant?"

Well, at least she knew how to play this game. It had

been a while since Leia had occasion to sit and chat

with another woman, being around all these men and

males lately. They would have tea, they would dance

their diplomatic dance, and eventually work their way

to matters of substance. Like Lando's card game, it was

wiser to keep your hand hidden until you had some

knowledge of the other players.

The tea came and went; the conversation stayed

bland, and while there was nothing upon which Leia

could put a ringer, something was wrong. Guri didn't

feel right, somehow. She was polite, well-mannered,

willing to follow Leia's lead in the game they played,

and despite all that, Leia wanted to be rid of her visitor.

What was it?

So far, they hadn't come anywhere near the subject

of Luke, and eventually she'd have to work her way to

that, but not yet. Not until she could get some handle

on what was bothering her about the woman from

Black Sun.

"We are more than willing to accommodate the Alliance,"

Guri said, leaning back in her chair. She looked

so relaxed. Much more so than Leia felt herself. "We

would not be unhappy if the Empire were to lose this

war and the Alliance were to ascend to power."

"The Alliance might be worse than the Empire, as

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 181

far as criminal organizations are concerned," Leia said."

Let's see how she handles that.

Guri shrugged. "The truth is, Black Sun is less and

less interested in illegal activities. Most of our revenue

these days comes from investments in legitimate indus-?

tries and strictly legal operations. There are many in

our organization who would have it become completely

aboveboard, nothing under the table. Such a

thing is difficult under the weight of the Empire. Perhaps

under the Alliance the transition might be better

effected."

Good response, Leia thought.

"And, as I mentioned, we are in sympathy with the

Alliance. We have . . . aided you a number of times.

In fact, we have recently aided the Alliance in obtaining

the plans for a supersecret Imperial construction project,

by way of the Bothan spynet."

"Really? I hadn't heard that."

"It was very recent. The news would not have had

time to reach here."

Hmm. Leia leaned back, tried to mimic Guri's relaxed

pose. That would bear investigating. She was

fairly certain that if Black Sun had given something of

great value to the Alliance, there would be something

asked in return. If not now, then later.

Guri leaned forward. "I regret that I must ask if it

might be possible to continue this meeting later. I have

pressing business on one of the local moons, and I'm

afraid my launch window is coming up soon."

"Of course," Leia said. Whether Guri had such business

or not was hardly important. If she did, then she

could attend to it. If not, then cutting short the meeting

was a gambit, and Leia would accept the move, to see

where it led.

"Perhaps we can talk again in, say, three or four

days?"

"I will look forward to it," Leia said, smiling.

Guri stood, smooth as an acrobat in peak condition.

182 STAR WARS

Smiled, gave Leia a nod that was something a little

softer than a military bow, and left.

After she was gone, Lando and Chewie came into

the room.

"What do you think?" Leia said.

"Man, she's a smooth piece of work," Lando said.

"You could stack ice cubes on her head and they

wouldn't melt. Unarmed, unless she was hiding a

weapon somewhere / couldn't spot it. Very attractive,

too, but there's something spooky about her."

Leia nodded. She was glad that Lando had noticed.

"Threepio?"

"I was unable to place her accent," he said. "Which

is decidedly odd, given my extensive experience in languages.

Her Basic was flawless, her inflection precise,

but I am afraid I cannot tell you her planet of origin."

Chewie said something.

Nobody spoke for a moment. Leia said, "Well, is

somebody going to tell me what he said?"

Threepio got it out first: "Chewbacca says the

woman made him very nervous."

"He didn't say 'very,' " Lando said. "Just plain 'nervous.'

"

"Excuse me," Threepio said. "I inferred the modifier

from his tone. Wookieespeak allows for such shadings."

"You saying my Wookieespeak is bad?" Lando said.

"Don't start again, you two." "Very" or not, few

things made a Wookiee nervous. Certainly not normal

women. Something to consider.

Maybe the next time the woman from Black Sun visited

they ought to prepare their reception a little better.

20

Princess Leia leaned back in her chair and smiled. She

looked relaxed, comfortable, in charge.

Guri leaned forward. Told Leia that she had to

break the meeting off now.

Leia was not the least nonplussed. "Of course," she

said. Again the small and polite smile.

"Freeze it right there," Xizor said.

The holoproj of Leia shuttered and held, sharper as

a single image than it was as a moving one. Perhaps he

would have this particular frame installed as a permanent

holographic duplicate on one of his private chamber

walls. It would be better, perhaps, had she been

nude, but it was fine just as it was. It seemed to catch

the essence of the woman. He could get the nude one

later.

Without taking his gaze from the full-size three-dimensional

picture on the floor in front of him, he said,

"What did you think of her?"

Behind him stood Guri. "She's adept at meaningless

184 STAR WARS

small talk, as befits a skilled diplomat. She revealed

nothing of what she really wanted except that it might

have to do with intelligence gathering. She is physically

attractive for one of her species and related species. She

is intelligent."

"And . . . ?"

"And it would seem more than coincidental that this

woman who is known to be close to Luke Skywalker is

probing Black Sun."

Xizor glanced away from the holoproj at his most

trusted lieutenant. There was a dry understatement. A

man who believed in such heavy coincidences was a

fool. Somehow, Leia—he was already beginning to

think of her on a first-name basis—somehow she had

figured out more than she should have been able to

figure out. Although he had taken great pains to separate

himself from the planned assassination of

Skywalker, she had happened upon the plot and managed

to connect it to Black Sun. It was not good, but it

was somewhat amazing. Another point in her favor.

"Your suggestion?"

"Kill her. Kill her Wookiee and gambler companion.

Wipe the protocol droid's memory and melt it down.

Eliminate Avaro as well, just to be sure. And anybody

in the casino who might have recognized her."

Xizor smiled. Guri was ruthless and efficient; that

was part of her charm. If she had to flame a building to

rid it of termites, so be it. Given leave, she would do

exactly what she suggested.

"I think not," he said. "Go back and meet with her

again. We should find out exactly how much she knows

and to whom she has told it, if anybody."

"I can get that information before I terminate her."

"No, I would rather conduct this particular interrogation

myself. I want you to bring her to me."

Guri was silent.

"Go ahead, speak your mind."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 185

"You are attracted to this woman in a romantic

way."

"So?"

"Such attractions have been known to cloud the

minds of otherwise rational beings."

He laughed, something he did all too seldom these

days. Nobody but Guri would have the nerve to speak

thus. Another of her endearing traits. "Do not fear, my

dear Guri. She could never replace you in my affections."

Guri did not speak. He didn't think that thought

had crossed her mind. She was immune to jealousy as

far as he'd been able to determine. Guri would stand by

and hold the clothes of his mistress while Xizor had his

way with her, apparently unaffected by what she saw.

"Princess Leia will surely be useful in locating

Skywalker, one way or another. After that, then you

can dispose of her."

Guri nodded once.

"Go."

When she was gone, Xizor considered what she had

said, then dismissed it. He walked the cold road, and

his passion was always safely leashed until he let it free.

Guri worried; that was her job and how she had been

programmed, to protect him at all costs, even if it extended

into his love life. He did not need to be protected

there. In such matters a Falleen was quite

capable of taking care of himself.

And in this case, it would be a pleasure to do it, too.

Luke's X-wing dropped from hyperspace in the vicinity

of the planet Kothlis. The world had three small

moons, was the fourth of seven planets circling the local

primary, and did not appear to be swarming with

Imperial Navy, at least not where Luke was. He

scanned the local comm bands and picked up normal

traffic, nothing alarming.

186 S TAR WARS

"Artoo, lay in a course for the rendezvous Melan

gave us."

Artoo whistled his acknowledgment.

Darth Vader's spies told him that Xizor had gone

once again to see the Emperor. The man was involved

in something dangerous to the Empire, he was certain

of it. But he had to have proof before he went to the

Emperor. Xizor was currently enjoying favor, and if

Vader wished to stop that, he must find out exactly

what the Dark Prince was up to. He must have evidence

that was irrefutable.

"Bring one of my dueling droids," Vader said to the

air. "No. Bring two of them."

The Rebel fighter squadron bore in, a dozen Y-wings

led by a single X-wing, and a larger unidentified and

heavily armed vessel.

The target of the attack took evasive action and

opened fire.

The fight was furious but over quickly. The pilot of

the X-wing came in fast and crippled the freighter by

killing its main engines after the larger ship had destroyed

half of the attackers.

"I think we've seen enough," the Emperor said.

The recording of the attack, taken from within the

freighter and without sound, vanished.

"It went exactly as we planned, I see," Xizor said.

"They had to work a little for it. We didn't want it to

seem too easy."

A long silence passed before the Emperor spoke. "I

do hope you know what you are doing, Prince Xizor. I

agreed to allow the plans for the new Death Star to fall

into Rebel hands on your advice. You had best be

right."

Xizor said, "I am, my master. Once the Rebels find

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 187

out exactly what it is they have been given, their trust

in me will be complete. It will be an easy matter to lure

the leaders of the Alliance into your grasp. I will deliver

the Rebellion and you can crush it at your pleasure."

The Emperor said nothing, but Xizor heard the unspoken

threat: If you are wrong, you will be most

sorry.

To someone watching from outside who knew even

most of what Xizor knew, his position might seem precarious.

As with a juggler who had half a dozen balls in

the air, disaster seemed imminent. But Xizor had the

skills and, more important, the will to keep the balls

flying smoothly. All part of the game. And what made

it so interesting. Anyone could juggle with fewer items;

it took a master to do what he was doing.

"You sure this thing is going to work?" Leia asked.

Chewbacca, busy working on the doorjamb with a

small power wrench, said something. It sounded snide.

Threepio quickly translated: "He says that if it

doesn't, it won't be because it was improperly installed."

Leia turned and looked at Lando, who shrugged.

"The guy who sold it to me said it was top-of-theline,"

he said. "Got the latest doppraymagno scanner,

full-range sensor, a self-contained power supply good

for a year. It better work, it cost me enough."

"Hardly a dent in your winnings, I would think,"

Leia said.

"Oh, it was a dent. I hope it's worth it."

So do I, Leia thought.

Chewie gargled something.

"He says it is ready for testing," Threepio said.

Leia walked to the desk and sat behind it. The computer

inset into the desk was off, and she switched it

on.

"The unit is under the file 'Bioscan,' " Lando said.

188 S TAR WARS

Leia opened the program. A hologram appeared

over the desk. "Nonholographic mode," she said.

"Flatscreen only."

The image vanished. She looked down at the desk.

The words "Scanner offline" appeared on the screen. It

would be invisible from the chair opposite the desk.

"Bioscan on," she said.

The screen lit up with an image of an eye, an ear,

and a nose. Oh, how cute.

"Okay, everybody out. Let's test it."

Threepio, Lando, and Chewie trooped out into the

hall.

"Close the door."

They did.

"Okay," Leia yelled. "Lando, you come in first."

The door opened and Lando sauntered in. He turned

around as if modeling the latest fashions. "Here I am.

Enjoy."

Leia grinned. He was endearing for a rogue. She

looked down at the screen.

The scanner newly inset into the frame of the door

picked up Lando's image, and it appeared on the

screen. An infocrawl moved up the side of the image as

the sensors examined Lando and fed the result to the

computer: Human, male, armed with a blaster and a

small vibro-shiv in his pants pocket on the left side,

heartbeat, respiration, muscle tone index, height,

weight, body temperature. Even a refractive index indicating

how old his skin was, plus or minus a standard

year.

Lando, according to this device, was a little older

than he looked.

No bombs or poison gas or commactive material

hidden upon his person. No hidden holocams or recording

devices.

"Seems to be working on you. Chewie, come on in."

Again the device scanned and reported. She didn't

know what the normal readings for a Wookiee were,

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 189

but the program that came with the scanner apparently

did, and it told her that Chewie was within normal

limits for one of that species.

She was sure Chewie would be happy to know that.

Finally she called Threepio in. The program had no

trouble at all recognizing him as a droid.

"Well. It seems to be working just fine," she said.

"Why don't we test it on you?" Lando offered.

"I don't think that will be necessary," she said. "You

were plenty."

Lando's comlink bleeped. He pulled it from his belt.

Leia looked at him.

"I've got an eye at the port," he said. He lifted the

comlink. "Go ahead."

"A ship has just arrived," the tinny voice said. "The

Outrider, piloted by—"

"—Dash Rendar?" Leia finished. "What is he doing

here? He's supposed to be watching Luke!"

"Thanks," Lando said into the comlink. He shut it

off. To Leia he said, "Maybe we better go find out."

They met Dash halfway. He was in a pubtrans cab

heading away from the port. Chewie swung their rental

vehicle around, and they quickly caught up with the

cab and waved it over.

When Dash got out, he looked terrible.

"Is Luke okay?" Leia said in a rush.

"Yeah, he's fine."

"Why are you here? You're supposed to be guarding

him."

Dash stared at her. "He's fine. He doesn't need my

help."

"You don't look so good," Lando offered. "Trouble?"

"Long story," Dash said.

"Get into the speeder," Leia said. "You can tell it to

us on the way back to the casino."

190 S TAR WAR S

He got into the speeder, and they started off.

When he was finished, Leia shook her head. Luke

was okay, that was the important thing. And it appeared

that Guri had told the truth, at least about the

secret plans.

"Any idea what these plans are?" Lando asked.

"No. The Bothans have some kind of hot specialists

on Kothlis who are going to pull them out of the computer."

His voice was almost a dead monotone.

Lando said, "Hey, lighten up, Dash. Things get

heavy in the middle of a battle. Anybody can miss—"

"Not me! I don't miss. I should have clipped that

missile! Bothans died because I missed, you understand?"

Leia was silent. She didn't like Dash Rendar; he was

a braggart and stuck on himself; but at least he had

some feeling for others. Maybe it was more because his

self-confidence had been shattered, but she could tell it

had really rattled him. It must be terrible to think you

are the sharpest thing in the skies and then to find out

you have a dull spot on your edge.

Nobody said anything for a while.

Well. As soon as this business with Black Sun was

finished, they would go and find Luke. Somehow it

would all get sorted out.

Luke left Artoo to watch the X-wing and made his

way to the lounge where he was supposed to meet Koth

Melan.

The Bothan was waiting.

"Any problems?" Melan asked.

"No. Now what?"

"We have a safe house here, a few kilometers away,

on the outskirts of the city. The computer is already

there and the team working on it. We'll go there and

wait until they are done."

"How long will it take?"

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 191

Melan shrugged. "Who can say? Hours, perhaps, if

we are fortunate; days if not. The team is very good

and won't take any chances. After what we paid for it,

it would be terrible to slip up and lose the informal

tion."

"Yeah, it would."

"I have a speeder waiting outside."

"Lead on," Luke said.

Outside, the daytime air had a funny smell. It took

Luke a moment to place it. The odor was of warm and

moldy cheese. He smiled to himself. He knew he would

get used to it pretty quick and tune it out. That was

something they almost never mentioned in the travel

ads, that every planet had its own smells and feel. The

light was a little redder here than on Tatooine; it was a

little cooler than Bothawui, and there was that smell.

The thing about alien worlds—well, alien to somebody

not born there—was that each one was unique.

Moldy cheese wasn't so bad. He'd smelled worse.

They walked to Melan's speeder and got in. Time to

go find out what the Empire thought was so valuable.

21

The safe house was a clever setup, Luke saw. What

looked like a row of old storage units and run-down

office space in an industrial park turned out to be

something else behind the facade. Past a security checkpoint

with a trio of large armed guards was a modern

complex of interconnected units, bright and gleaming

with the latest computer and electronic gear, plus a

bunch of technicians to operate it. Most of them were

Bothans, but there were several other aliens at work.

It was a smart camouflage. From outside, you'd

never expect to find all this.

"This way," Melan said.

Luke followed the Bothan spymaster down a gleaming

corridor to a room with yet another armed guard

posted at the door. Melan showed an ID, and they

were admitted.

Inside the room were half a dozen Bothan techs.

One of them tended leads plugged into jacks in the

computer Melan had collected; others sat at consoles

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 193

tapping keyboards or using voxax controls. Information

danced in the air as holographic images formed

and re-formed.

"There's not much to see, I'm afraid," Melan said.

"Unless you're an expert in this, the information looks

to be pretty much a jumble of numbers and letters."

Luke nodded. "What do they mean?" He waved at

one of the screens.

"Got me," Melan said. "I'm a spymaster. What I

know about programming you could inscribe on a

microdiode lead with a dull sword."

Luke smiled.

"Hey, hey, hey!" one of the Bothan techs said.

"Look at this, boys! Scan sector Tarp-Hard-Xenon."

Luke heard the tap of keys, the commands of voxaxes.

"Wow!" said one of the other techs.

"Oh, sister," said another. "I can't believe it!"

"What?" Luke said. "What is it?"

Before anybody could say, the door exploded inward

and somebody came in shooting.

Leia smiled at Guri, who was once again seated

across from where she herself sat at the desk in their

suite. But the smile was to cover her puzzlement.

According to the computer screen inset into the desk

and the scanner that fed it, Guri was not human.

What she was, the scanner program could not say.

"Care for some refreshment?" Leia asked.

"Tea would be fine."

"Threepio, fix two cups of the special tea blend,

would you, please?"

Leia turned back from the droid and flashed her

smile at Guri again. She caught the computer screen

peripherally as she glanced at Black Sun's representative.

According to the scanner, Guri's skin was around

ten standard years old.

194 S TAR WARS

Wasn't that interesting?

"I trust your business went well?"

"It did."

It would be no trouble to keep her talking for a few

minutes, until the "special blend" tea Threepio was

preparing did its job. The sleeping potion he was instilling

into Guri's cup would put her out harmlessly for a

couple of hours, during which time Leia and the others

could make a closer examination of Guri's person and

effects. This was the plan they'd agreed upon if the

scan didn't check out the way it should. After a couple

of hours, Guri would awaken and—if the potion

worked as it was supposed to work—not remember

having fallen asleep. Maybe they could figure out who

and what she was during that time. At least Leia's instincts

had been right: There was something odd about

Guri. Very odd.

Threepio brought the tea. Leia hoped the droid had

gotten the stuff into the right cup. It would be embarrassing

if Lando or Chewie had to come in and take

over while she took a nap.

Threepio had his back to Guri. Leia glanced at him.

His left eye illuminator winked off, then back on.

Leia picked up her tea and smiled again.

When a man comes at you with a blaster spewing,

you don't stand there asking stupid questions. Luke

snatched his lightsaber from his belt, lit it, and whipped

it up in a right inward block as he slid to the side.

A blaster bolt splashed from the blade in a shower

of red and orange sparks. The air stank suddenly of

ozone.

The techs were unarmed, and Luke saw two of them

take hits and go down. The others scrambled for cover.

Koth Melan produced a small weapon and returned

fire, hitting the lead attacker right between the eyes.

The attacker fell backward.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 195

There were more behind him, boiling through the

shattered doorway.

Luke leaped forward, circled his lightsaber into a

horizontal slash, and took down the next man through

the door.

Melan fired. The bolt sizzled past Luke's left ear and

hit the third man incoming.

Beyond that, Luke saw, there were at least a dozen

more shooters crowding toward the doorway. Maybe

more. It wasn't as if he had time to do a precise count

here---

More energy beams cooked the air, scorching past

Luke and spearing computer consoles and technicians

alike.

"Too many of them!" Melan yelled. "This way!"

Luke wove a curtain of hard light with his blade,

deflecting blaster bolts and driving the attackers back

temporarily. He leaped to the side, and Melan fired repeatedly

into the opening, momentarily clearing it.

"Come on!"

Luke turned and ran. Discretion here was definitely

the better part of valor. Who were these guys? They

wore black, but didn't have any insignia he could see.

Some kind of new Imperial strike team? Mercenaries?

Never mind that now. Worry about who they are

later. This party is over, Luke, it is time to leave.'

Luke hurried after Melan.

After twenty minutes of small talk, Leia realized the

sleeping potion wasn't going to work. It was supposed

to take five minutes, eight minutes at the outside, if you

had the constitution of a rock.

Guri continued their diplomatic back-and-forth

without any apparent effects from the powerful potion.

Maybe Threepio had fouled up somehow? Not put

the stuff into Guri's cup?

The computer was still processing information and

196 STAR WARS

displaying it for Leia. The . . . person sitting across

from her breathed air and her heart pumped blood, but

the lungs weren't normal, and neither was the heart.

The muscles under the supposedly ten-year-old skin

weren't made of any tissue the scanner could recognize.

Her body temperature was ten percent cooler than normal.

A human that cold would be dead.

On visual inspection, Guri looked like a perfectly

normal and attractive young woman in her early twenties.

According to the scanner and computer, she was

not human; nor was she any one of the eighty-six thousand

alien species it was designed to recognize; nor was

she any kind of standard droid. And she was, it

seemed, immune to a sleeping potion that should work

on anybody human.

What was going on here?

No doubt about it, this was a problem, and not one

that Leia had anticipated.

Now what were they going to do?

Guri helped her resolve the problem. She said, "All

right, Leia Organa, I think this has gone on long

enough."

"Excuse me?"

Guri held her empty container up. As Leia watched,

she squeezed the heavy ceramic mug in one hand. Her

hand shook a little, but the cup shattered into tiny bits.

Guri smiled. "I can do that to your head if I wish. You

probably have a weapon hidden somewhere, but I warn

you, I am much faster than you, and if you attempt to

reach your weapon, I can get to you before you get to

it."

Leia played it out. "Suppose I believe you. What do

you want?"

"You are going to accompany me from this place.

You will tell the Wookiee in the hall to stay here as we

leave; convince him, otherwise he dies."

"Where are we going?"

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 197

"Do not concern yourself with that. Just do as you

are told and you will survive to get there."

"I don't think so," Leia said. "Whoever—or whatever—

you are, I bet you aren't faster than a blaster

bolt. Lando? Dash?"

The door to the bedroom slid open. Lando and Dash

stood there, blasters aimed at Guri. They stepped into

the room.

"You might be wrong," Guri said.

The door to the hall also slid open, and Chewie

stood there with his bowcaster leveled at Guri's back.

"Could be," Leia said. "But you'd have to be real

fast to avoid being hit by three bolts."

Guri turned her head slightly to glance at Chewie.

Turned back to look at Leia. "You have the advantage,

it would seem. What do you propose?"

There was a good question. What were they going to

do now?

One of the Bothan techs leaped up, grabbed the computer,

and jerked it loose from the leads. The undamaged

screens went blank.

"Go!" Melan yelled at the tech. "We'll cover you!"

The tech ran for the rear of the room. A section of

the wall slid back to reveal an unmarked emergency

exit. The tech with the computer barreled through the

opening.

Melan, meanwhile, emptied the charge in his blaster

at the attackers coming in again. The weapon clicked

dry, and he tossed it aside.

"Run!" he yelled.

Luke didn't need to hear that twice. But before he

could take a step, a blaster bolt hit Melan.

The Bothan went down.

Luke dropped to one knee.

"G-G-Go!" Melan said. "Leave me, get out!"

Luke saw the black-clad attackers stream in. You

198 S TAR WAR S

didn't leave your wounded comrades in battle. He

stood between Melan and the incoming tide.

"Idiot! L-L-Leave!"

Luke chopped the blaster from the hand of the first

man to reach them. Wondered briefly why the man

didn't cook them, but had no time to reflect on it as

five or six more shooters came in.

"Luke," Melan said. "Thanks. I—"

Luke glanced down. Melan went limp and his eyes

rolled back, showing only the pale sclera. A final, shuddery

breath escaped, and he was still.

Dead.

The number of men crowding into the room increased.

There were ten, fifteen of them now, all pointing

blasters at him but not firing. What—?

"Turn off your saber," one of them commanded in a

rough voice. "You can't win."

Luke looked at the speaker. The figure stood in a

shadow, was hard to see until it stepped out into the

light.

The reptilian alien was about his height, covered

with black scales, with a mouth full of pointed teeth.

Definitely a meat-eater. He thought he recognized the

species as that of a Barabel, but he wasn't sure; he

hadn't seen a lot of them. Barabels didn't leave their

homeworld very often.

Luke saw that he didn't have a chance, even using

the Force. He clicked his lightsaber off.

"Wise move," the Barabel said. "My people have

great respect for Jedi Knights and I am sorry I must do

this, but it is business. Take his weapon."

One of them moved in and removed the lightsaber

from Luke's grasp.

Luke looked back at the Barabel. "What do you

want?"

"Sorry, but we want you, Skywalker."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 199

Chewie said something. He didn't sound happy.

"Chewie doesn't think this is a very good idea,"

Lando said. "I agree with him."

Leia said, "Look, I know you owe Han and you

want to take care of me, but we need to do this."

Dash leaned against a wall, a blaster trained on

Guri, who sat in a chair and was bound with cuffbands

and a steel cable. They weren't taking any chances with

her. Dash said, "You're going to waltz into the heart of

the Empire, just like that?"

"I have some connections on Coruscant," Leia said.

"That's where our friend here came from." She nodded

at Guri, who offered nothing. "Somebody is playing

games I don't much like. Luke is in danger;

this . . . person who says she represents Black Sun is

our only link to them."

Lando said, "You know, there were rumors a few

years back about human replica droids. Seems like I

heard somebody had perfected the method, got them

good enough so you couldn't tell the difference between

one of the replicas and a real human by looking.

That was about ten, twelve years back. It would fit

with the age the scanner gives us about her." He

glanced at Guri.

Guri smiled but said nothing.

"So what if she is a droid?" Dash said. "What good

does it do for you to know that?" -

Leia shook her head. "Not much good at all," she

said. "But if we can get to whoever sent her, maybe

that does. She's got to be worth a lot to them."

Chewie moaned something.

"Chewbacca says that if you go to Coruscant, he is

going as well."

Leia glared at Threepio.

"Don't blame me, I'm only translating what he

said."

"Fine, you can go with me. Lando, you and Dash

200 STAR WARS

wait here for Luke. We'll take Guri with us. Whoever

or whatever she is, she's our pass."

"How are you going to get there?" Dash asked.

"Book a compartment on a liner? They check those

things going into Coruscant, you know."

"I'll contact the Alliance and have them supply us

with a small ship."

"I don't like it," Lando said.

"Why not just take her ship?" Dash asked. "It's

bound to be cleared."

"And maybe blow ourselves to tiny pieces? We've

already determined she's not the most trustworthy being

we've ever met. Could somebody steal your ship?"

Dash laughed. "They wouldn't get very far if they

tried."

"I still don't like it," Lando said.

"I'm not asking you to like it, I'm telling you to do

it."

Which pretty much ended that conversation.

Leia tried to sound as if she were in charge and as if

she knew exactly what she was doing, but that was a

stretch. If Guri was a replica droid, surely she must be

valuable to whomever had sent her. Maybe that person

would be willing to talk to get her back. Conventional

wisdom had it that the best plans were usually the simplest

ones, and if that was true, this was a great idea.

Conventional wisdom aside, it wasn't much; still, it

was what she had, and she would follow it up as best

she could.

"Excuse me," Guri said.

Leia turned to look at her. "What?"

"There is an easier way."

Leia stared at her, then at the others. "What are you

talking about?"

"You want to go to Imperial Center and meet with

the leadership of Black Sun, correct?"

"That was the general idea."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 201

"That is why I was sent—to provide you escort for

such a trip."

"Then why the threats?"

"It was the fastest way."

"I wouldn't trust her, Leia," Lando said.

"I don't, but I'm reasonable. Go on."

"It will be very risky for you to try to sneak past the

Imperial pickets around Imperial Center. I can greatly

lessen that risk."

"No offense, but Lando is right. Why should we

trust you?"

"Because I work for Prince Xizor."

Lando and Dash both inhaled sharply.

Leia looked at them.

"Xizor is the head of Black Sun," Dash said.

"I can arrange for you to speak with him, if you

like."

Leia frowned. "He's here?"

"I have his private comlink codes."

"I don't like this," Lando said. He waved the

blaster.

Lando didn't much like anything lately.

Chewie growled and harned.

Neither did Chewie like it.

"You are wanted by the Empire, as are your companions.

I can arrange disguises, get you past customs

and straight to the prince," Guri said. "It would eliminate

much of the risk."

Leia sighed. It sounded reasonable, despite Guri's attempt

to capture her.

"All right, we can at least listen to what your master

has to say." Before the others could protest much, she

waved them silent.

"May I stand?" Guri asked.

"Yes."

Guri came to her feet in a smooth motion.

"Dash, unbind her," Leia ordered.

"There is no need," Guri said, smiling. She flexed

202 ST A R WA R S

her arms. The bands around her wrists popped as if

they were made of cheap plasto. She took a deep breath

and strained; the cable around her shoulders gave a metallic

groan, stretched, then snapped.

"Oh, man," Lando said.

Guri moved to the room's com, waved her hands at

it. A few moments passed. Then a deep, masculine

voice said, "Yes?"

"Guri, Highness. I have Princess Leia Organa here.

She would like to speak with you."

"Where's the image?" Lando asked.

"My master prefers not to send it out, even on a

shielded channel," Guri said. She looked at Leia.

Leia said, "Greetings, Prince Xizor."

"Ah, Princess Leia. How delightful to make your acquaintance

at last."

His voice was compelling, at least.

"Your . . . droid here says you wish to see me."

"Indeed. I have information that might be of use to

you."

"Concerning . . . ?"

"The attempted assassination of Luke Skywalker. A

friend of yours, is he not?"

It took much of Leia's control to avoid gasping.

Xizor knew about the plot!

"We are comrades, yes," Leia said. "Tell me, how do

you know of the attempts on Luke Skywalker's life?"

"Not over the comlink," he said. "We must discuss

such matters face-to-face. If you will allow Guri to escort

you, I will explain all when you arrive."

Leia looked around the room. This certainly was unexpected.

What was she going to do?

22

The building to which Luke had been taken was only a

hundred kilometers or so, he guessed, from the Bothan

safe house—that hadn't stayed safe very long, had it?—

and he was now locked in a strongly reinforced cell.

The technology here was a whole lot lower than the

Bothans' had been. The walls were plain, of some hard

substance, a neutral gray. The heavy door was sheathed

in durasteel plate, and a window at eye level was crisscrossed

with metal mesh, the strands of which were as

thick as his little finger. A guard pushing two meters

tall and probably half that wide stood across the hall

with a blast rifle, staring at the door. There was a

heavy plastic cot bolted to the floor, with a thin pad

and a blanket on it. A dim light overhead cast faint and

fuzzy shadows. In one corner was a shallow depression

in the floor with a fist-size round hole in the middle of

it. He had a pretty good idea what that was used for.

Other than those things and himself, there was nothing

in the cell.

204 S TAR WARS

Well. It could be worse. There could be vermin.

Luke sat on the cot. They'd taken his comlink and

lightsaber, but they hadn't roughed him up or tortured

him. Yet, anyway.

Who were they? What did they want?

As if in answer, the lock on the cell door clicked and

the door swung inward. The Barabel stepped into view.

Luke couldn't see her very well—he was pretty sure

now it was a her—she seemed to find the darkest of the

shadows as if she belonged there. Well. That didn't

matter, either. He could hear her well enough.

"I don't suppose you want to tell me what's going

on?"

The Barabel made a gesture Luke interpreted as a

shrug. "No reason why not. No point in being unpleasant.

There's nothing you can do about it."

There was a happy thought,

"I am Skahtul. I make my living as a bounty hunter,

as do the others with me. It seems there is a large reward—

a very large reward—offered to whoever delivers

Luke Skywalker to them, alive and well, no

questions asked. Realizing what a difficult chore this

might be, a group of us decided to band together. Better

to have a portion of a lot of credits than none.

Lucky for us, you and those blasted Bothans have increased

the amounts of the shares the survivors of the

attack will collect. It's the same pie, but there are now

fewer of us to divide it among."

Before he could speak, she continued: "Oddly

enough, there is a second reward being offered for

Luke Skywalker; this one is for him—you—dead.

"Fortunately for you, the second amount is not quite

as large as the first, so we plan to keep you healthy

until we can collect it."

"Here's a third option," Luke said. "How about I

give you more than either bounty to let me go?"

Skahtul laughed, a hard-edged sound that lapped

against the solid walls and bounced back at them. "Oh,

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 205

certainly, we—my colleagues and I—would be open to

such an offer."

Here was a chance. He could borrow the credits

from Leia and pay her back later. "How much are we

talking about?"

Skahtul named a figure.

"Whoa! You could buy half a city with that many

credits!" :

"With enough left over for you and six or eight of

your friends to retire upon and live happily ever after,"

the bounty hunter said. "Did we miss something in our

search? You have a credit tab with that much in your

pocket, perhaps?"

"I wish." If Leia had that much, he'd never live long

enough to pay it back, even if he made it to general.

Unless he was out walking and tripped over a mountain

of platinum that didn't belong to anybody. Not

much chance of that.

Skahtul laughed. "It is good that you maintain your

sense of humor." Her voice turned serious. "But be

warned. Any attempt to escape will be met with maximum

resistance. We know how resourceful Jedi

Knights are. You are worth a few thousand more alive

than dead; however, better to collect the smaller

bounty than to risk losing it all. Is this understandable?"

"Yeah, I get it."

"Good. It's not personal, you know. Some of us

even admire what you've done against the Empire, having

some sympathies in that direction, but business is

business. Behave yourself and you will be treated well.

You'll be kept in here, but you'll be fed and unmolested

until we arrange for our benefactor to pay us and collect

you."

"You want to tell me who this 'benefactor' is?"

"Not to worry, you'll find out soon enough."

With that, Skahtul oozed back through the door and

shut it behind herself.

206 STAR WARS

Luke stared after her. Well, this was great. Captured

by a bunch of bounty hunters and sold to the highest

bidder. Good thing the one who wanted him dead—

and who might that be?—was not as generous as whoever

wanted him alive. Given the money involved, he

had no idea about who the latter could be.

Darth Vader could throw that many credits out a

window and never miss them, were the stories true. According

to what he'd heard, if Vader's personal fortune

was changed into credit coins and dumped in a pile,

you could spend the rest of your life digging in it with a

shovel and not get to the bottom.

Leia sure didn't have that much. Probably the whole

Alliance didn't have that much.

He'd better think of something fast. He had an idea

that if he stood face-to-face with Vader unarmed, he

wasn't going to have much of a chance of surviving

that meeting.

Good idea, Luke. Think of something.

What?

The droid who looked like a woman had hidden her

ship in a small clearing centered in a vast rain forest

two hundred kilometers away from Avaro's casino. The

ride didn't take long by landspeeder, and it was just the

three of them: Guri, Chewie, and Leia.

Storm clouds gathered in layers of purple and gray

as they arrived. The rumble of thunder followed close

after the bright flashes of approaching lightning. The

air had that damp, wild smell that ran before a hard

rain.

Leia and Chewie stared at the ship.

It was a sleek, somehow almost feminine craft,

shaped vaguely like a figure eight lying on its belly,

bristling with guns fore and amidships, a quad of powerful-

looking engines mounted aft.

"My vessel, the Stinger," Guri said.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 207

"Very nice."

"Named by my master," she said. "An appropriate

designation."

"We'd better get on board before the storm gets

here," Leia said.

The trio started for the ship. Dash and Lando

weren't particularly happy being left behind, but Leia

wouldn't risk any more people than she had to. Chewie

was enough. If this turned out to be what Guri and the

mysterious Xizor claimed, it would be fine—assuming

they got past the pickets around Coruscant and onplanet

customs. If not, no point in all of them getting

into trouble.

Well. Any more trouble than they were already in.

The rain let go in earnest, and they ran for the ship.

They got drenched anyhow.

A couple

>le of days had passed, at least. Luke had lost

track of the time, since there wasn't any light except for

the dim one in the cell and no transparisteel on the

outside.

He was practicing his levitation, hovering a few centimeters

over the cot, when he heard approaching footsteps.

He allowed himself to drop to the cot. He didn't

want to reveal he knew how to do this. There weren't

any holocams in the cell that he'd been able to detect,

and the guard usually stayed across the hall.

The door clicked, and Skahtul slipped silently into

the room.

"So, has my buyer paid up?"

"Not exactly."

Luke slipped off the cot and stood, facing the

shorter Barabel. "What does that mean?"

"It means that after a discussion with my . . . colleagues,

we realized that you might be even more valuable

than we thought."

"More valuable? Come on."

208 STAR WARS

"There are two factions who want you. It was suggested

that we might be able to pump up the price by

playing them off against each other."

Luke blinked. "You're going to have them bid for

me? Like a slave?"

"Something like that."

"Who are these people?"

Skahtul did something like a shrug. "To be honest,

we don't know. Our contacts have been very, ah, circuitous.

Agents of agents of agents kind of thing."

Luke couldn't think of anything to say.

"Of course, we must be very, ah, circumspect in our

dealings. Players with the kind of money we are talking

about must be very powerful. A misstep might be most

dangerous. Fatal."

"So you solicit higher offers from them. What if the

ones who want me dead come up with more credits?"

"Like I said before, it's not personal, just business."

Luke stared at the Barabel. "You'll excuse me if I

take it personally." His voice was as dry as his throat

had suddenly become.

In his lair, Xizor smiled. Guri had the princess, and

they were on their way here. Perfect.

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

Sometimes it was almost disappointing how easily he

accomplished his ends. It would be good to have a

challenge now and then, as he had in the old days before

he was master of so much. When he'd had to work

a little.

Ah, well. Better to win easily than to lose.

The Emperor sat in his favorite throne, the one set a

meter higher than the rest of the room. Vader entered,

dropped to one knee.

"My master."

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 209

"Rise, Lord Vader."

Vader did so. He hoped whatever the Emperor

wanted was something easy and brief. He had just received

word from his agents that Luke had been found.

His captors, it seemed, were a ragtag band of bounty

hunters who were demanding more money. Vader's

agents knew who they were but not precisely where

they were hiding. And it seemed there was another bidder

who also wanted Luke. Vader would have his people

offer whatever it took; money meant nothing when

compared to the dark side, and he fully intended to

turn the boy in that direction. He considered going to

collect Luke himself, to Kothlis, where he was reportedly

being held, but to leave Imperial Center just now

would be dangerous. He needed to be here to watch

Xizor. The criminal's twisted plans had ensnared the

Emperor, and to walk away might well be a fatal mistake—

"You will go to Kothlis," the Emperor said. "And

collect young Skywalker."

Once again Vader was glad his face was masked. He

had not expected to hear this. How did the Emperor

know? Who in Vader's organization had betrayed him?

There was no way the Emperor should be privy to that

information, not yet. Only a handful of Vader's most

trusted agents knew it.

Unless . . . unless the Emperor was the other bidder

for Luke?

No. That made no sense. The Emperor had given the

task to Vader; he would not enter into a bidding war

against himself.

"I have already sent my agents for him," Vader

tried.

"Agents are not to be trusted. Skywalker grows

stronger in the Force each day. I remind you that he

has within him the power to destroy us. Only you are

potent enough to capture him."

210 S T A R WARS

"Yes, my master." There was no arguing with him

once he'd made his mind up.

Surely Prince Xizor's foul hand was involved in this.

It would not be wise to bring that up; the Emperor had

made it quite clear that the Dark Prince was his concern,

and it would not be a good idea to reveal that

Vader had plans of his own concerning Xizor.

"There is another reason. You are aware that Prince

Xizor's scheme to allow the plans for the Death Star to

fall into Rebel hands has been implemented."

"Yes, my master. The plan proceeds over my objections."

"Those objections have been noted, Lord Vader. As

it happens, the plans have been transported from the

freighter hijacked off Bothawui to Kothlis. Quite a coincidence,

don't you think?"

That Luke and the fruits of Xizor's twisted plot were

on the same planet at the same time, a coincidence?

Doubtful.

"We must appear to make an attempt to recover the

plans," the Emperor continued, "to convince the

Rebels that the plans are genuine and that we are distressed

by their loss. Therefore your trip will serve two

purposes. You can fetch Skywalker, and you can destroy

some of the local scenery so that the Rebels will

be gulled into believing we are concerned over the

theft."

He had to at least try: "Any of our admirals could

go and wave the flag and fire the guns. I have many

pressing matters here."

"More pressing than my commands, Lord Vader?"

So much for that idea. "No, my master."

"I thought not. I will have Skywalker with us or destroyed,

the sooner the better. And the end of the Rebellion

is near. If you personally lead the attack, the

Rebels will be convinced that we think these plans of

great value."

"Yes, my master."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 211

Vader left the chambers, and once again his simmering

anger threatened to bubble up and overcome him.

Xizor's touch was like a thick night fog: dark, clammy,

seeping into the smallest cracks to chill and dampen.

Once again, he had maneuvered the Emperor into getting

his rival out of the picture. With Vader on Kothlis,

who knew what cloying webs that reptilian spider

would spin for the Emperor?

Vader resolved to make it a fast trip.

me call came from the picket line of Imperial Star

Destroyers and frigates posted around the planet:

"Entry code?" the bored voice said.

Inside the Stinger, Guri responded with a number.

A moment went by. "Pass. Lock into the landing

grid and put it on auto."

Guri operated the ship with an offhand expertise

that was most impressive. She tapped controls, her

hands dancing rapidly.

Leia and Chewie looked at each other.

"They will check for contraband at customs," Guri

said, as if reading Leia's mind. "Black Sun has contacts

there, but we cannot make it too obvious that you are

under our protection. Time to go change."

Chewie said something. It didn't sound happy.

"You wanted to come along," Leia said.

He didn't like it, but he left and went to the 'fresher.

Once the ship was on auto, Guri stood and walked

to a locker. She removed some clothes and a full-head

muzzle-mask helmet from the locker, tossed them at

Leia. "Here. Put these on."

The clothes stank. Leia wrinkled her nose at them.

Guri said, "They belonged to Boushh, an Ubese

bounty hunter. Boushh was quite good at the trade. He

did a lot of contract work for Black Sun. He . . . retired

recently."

"As it happens, I speak a bit of Ubese," Leia said.

212 S T AR WARS

"We know. The costume is not a coincidence."

Leia looked at the clothes. "What happened to this

Boushh? He retired?"

"Quite suddenly. He tried to rascal Black Sun for

more credits on a delivery for which there was an

agreed-upon contract. That was . . . unwise."

The sound of the last statement gave Leia a chill. She

moved to don the clothing. She had a feeling Boushh

would not be needing these smelly clothes again.

When Chewie returned in a few minutes, it was all

Leia could do to keep a straight face. Where his fur had

been brown and gray, it now was mottled with large

patches of black. A raccoonlike mask encircled his eyes,

and the fur on his head had been trimmed into a short

spacer's cut. She turned to Guri, who said, "Meet

Snoova, a well-known Wookiee bounty hunter."

Chewie was unhappy, and that came through in

whatever it was he said.

"Stop complaining," Leia said. "The dye will wash

out and your fur will grow back. In a couple of weeks

you'll be back to normal."

Leia put her helmet on and tested the built-in voxscrambler.

When she spoke her voice was electronically

altered. She knew enough Ubese to get by, and as long

as she didn't run into a native of that place, she should

be okay. Her speech buzzed and clicked and sounded

to her own ears as if it were indeed coming from an

alien throat.

Chewie gargled and moaned, and Guri nodded.

"Yes. It will do. We'll be landing soon."

Leia nodded and removed the helmet. She hoped

Guri knew what she was doing.

23

A thin man brought Luke food and drink twice a day.

He had eaten worse, eaten better, too. The routine was

usually the same when breakfast or supper arrived: The

thin man carried a tray to the door. The guard unlocked

the door, leveled his blast rifle at Luke, and

backed him to the cot; the thin man put the tray on the

floor just inside the door, then left, with the guard.

This time, Luke asked the thin man for the time.

"Whyddya care?" the thin man said.

"Why do you care if I care?" Luke returned.

The thin man sneered, but he told Luke what time it

was and departed.

This was the evening meal, as Luke had suspected.

The reason for his question was simple. He was

planning on leaving, and he wanted the cover of darkness.

Once he got out of the building, better they were

not able to spot him, that he could use the night for

camouflage.

Luke ate. The liquid was sweet, brown, and fizzy;

214 S T AR WARS

the food was bland—soypro cutlets, some kind of orange

vegetable, something green and crunchy—but

there was no point escaping on an empty stomach.

Once he got to his X-wing and lifted, there was no

telling how long it would be before he had a chance to

eat again.

Once he got to his X-wing.

He grinned around a mouthful of the green stuff.

Like that was going to be the easy part.

It would not be wise for them to be seen together,

Guri told Leia.

"After you clear customs, meet me at these coordinates."

Leia and Chewie agreed.

There were a few tense moments at customs.

A guard examined the holocard ID that said Leia

was Boushh, tapped it against the table in front of him.

"Purpose of your visit?"

"Business," Leia said in Ubese. Her voice clicked

and buzzed through the mask.

"I see you are licensed to carry that weapon, but we

do not take kindly to people who use them on Imperial

Center."

Leia said nothing.

"I think we'll have to take that helmet off," he said.

"Just to be certain you match the holograph." He

tapped the card again, looked at it. "One can't be too

careful."

Leia said, "It will damage my lungs to breathe this

air without my filters."

"I can arrange an atmosphere room—" he began.

He stopped.

Chewie moved close to Leia and the guard, rumbled

something.

She realized how used to him she'd gotten every time

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 215

she took in his disguise. Good old Chewie, he was as

dependable as sunlight, loyal to a fault.

"What is your problem?" the guard said.

Chewie babbled something that sounded angry.

"I don't care if you are late for an appointment," the

guard said. But the line of people waiting to pass

through customs was starting to lengthen, and the

guard suddenly thrust Leia's ID card back at her.

"Move along, bounty hunter. I have others to process."

Once Chewie was through, he and Leia moved

quickly away from the area.

"Okay, now we go and see my contact. This section

of the Underground is relatively safe," she said, "but

still not a place where you want to relax your guard."

Chewie nodded and patted his bowcaster. Said

something.

"If you just asked why we aren't going directly to

see Guri, I want to see if I can't hedge our bets a little

first."

Aboard the Executor, Vader considered his upcoming

meeting with Luke. Since last they'd met, the boy

had had time to come to terms with what he'd been

told. On some level, he must know the truth, that Vader

was his father. Of course, that had been in another

lifetime, when Vader had still been Anakin Skywalker,

but the fact of it remained.

He would turn him. He knew he could, because he

had felt the dark side rise in Luke, had felt the power of

his anger. The boy had loosed it once; he could be

made to free it again. Each repetition became easier.

The dark side was a path that grew wider and deeper

each time you trod upon it. Soon it would be no effort

at all for Luke to allow the dark side to rule.

And the Emperor was right. Luke had much power

in him. It was raw, unchanneled and untrained, but it

216 S TAR WARS

was vast. His potential was larger than the Emperor's,

larger than Vader's.

But it was still only potential and not focused energy.

When next they met, Vader would still be more

adept, still the master. He would defeat the boy and

bring him to the dark side. They would be in accord,

father and son.

And when that happened, nothing in the galaxy

could stop them. None would dare oppose them. All

would bow before them. Worlds would tremble at their

approach.

Under his mask, Vader smiled.

Luke took several cleansing breaths, as he had been

taught, and tried to release his thoughts at the same

time. Ben—Obi-Wan—could plant suggestions in a

stormtrooper's mind without apparent effort. It was

not so easy for Luke. A couple of times he had managed

it, but it required a lot of concentration to summon

enough of the Force. You couldn't be worried

about whether or not it was going to work, or what

would happen if it failed halfway through. You pretty

much couldn't have anything else on your mind—well,

at least Luke couldn't—and that made it tricky, given

that if it didn't work or if it quit before he was done, he

might wind up dead.

No. Put those thoughts away. Remember that the

Force is with you. You can do this.

He took another breath, let half of it out, and allowed

the Force to connect him to the mind of the

guard in the hall.

The sensation was strange, as it always was. It was

not as if he were really in two places at once, but more

as if there were a part of his own mind that was somehow

not quite connected, not quite accessible. A kind

of muzzy feeling.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 217

Luke became aware that the guard's feet hurt, that

he needed to visit a refresher, that he was tired of

standing here holding a blast rifle, watching a meadleblasted

door when there was no way anybody could get

through it, no way—

"Open the door."

"Huh? Who's there—?"

"You must open the door."

"I . . . must open the door."

"You must put down your rifle and open the door

now."

"I must . . . put down my rifle. Open the door

now."

Luke watched the guard through the barred window.

Watched him put his rifle down.

Got him. Luke grinned. A mistake.

"What—?"

Lost him. Concentrate, Luke!

"Open the door."

Luke put the thoughts of victory and loss out of his

mind. The only thing that mattered was the guard.

"Open the door."

"Yes. Open . . . the . . . door . . ."

The guard's keycard slipped into the slot. The lock

clicked.

One of the sweetest sounds Luke had ever heard. He

didn't dwell on it.

"You're very tired. You need to come in and lie on

the cot and take a nice nap."

"Cot. Take a nap . . ."

The guard moved into the cell, walked past Luke.

Luke took the keycard from the guard's hand. He

glanced out into the corridor. Nobody else around. He

stepped out of the cell, shut the door carefully, dropped

the keycard on the floor, and picked up the blast rifle.

He looked back. The guard snored on the cot.

Now. This was more like it.

218 STAR WARS

He started down the corridor. He felt pretty confident.

This guard had been easier than the one at the

carnival where he had practiced walking on the tightrope.

He ought to be able to take care of any others he

ran into, either with the Force or the rifle. He also

ought to head straight for the nearest exit and leave.

With any luck it would be hours before anybody even

knew he was gone.

But he wanted to see if he could find his lightsaber

first. He'd spent a lot of time building it, and since the

escape had been so easy, he was pretty sure he could

retrieve his Jedi weapon and leave just as easily. The

Force was with him. He could do it.

He was sure of it.

As Leia and Chewie made their way down a dark

and twisted passage into the heart of the Southern Underground,

she shook her head. The casino complex on

Rodia made Mos Eisley look good. But it seemed that

no matter how awful a place was, there was always

another spot that was worse.

The Southern Underground made the casino complex

look like a vacation paradise.

Beggars were everywhere, dressed in rags, gaunt and

demanding. Whatever had driven them underground

must be terrible if this was their only option.

All manner of illicit offerings were made as she and

Chewie moved farther into the maze of underground

tunnels. Corridor dwellers would sell them whatever

they wanted, and the particulars made Leia's stomach

roil.

Yes, there had always been such people, but the Empire

had caused their numbers to rise tremendously.

That which had been a small stain on the joy of the

Republic was a blight on the bloated body of the Empire.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 219

Chewie growled at a partially clad woman who

smiled as she approached them. The woman hastily

backed off.

The corridor in which they walked was ill lit,

splotched with graffiti in half a dozen common languages

and pictographies, the walls themselves beaded

with liquid as if they had sweated.

A planet whose surface was completely built over

must have a big foundation. In places, the vast complex

of tunnels and artificial caverns was a kilometer deep

and continuing to go deeper. Here were locales where

the sun's rays never came, where blue-gray mold sometimes

grew ten centimeters thick on walls and ceiling,

where the dank and fecund air stank permanently of

fungal rot—and worse.

A black-hooded and robed figure moved out from

the darkness under a shattered glowstick, a green fourfingered

hand extended for alms.

Chewie said something, and the figure moved away.

A wave of the unwashed creature's body odor joined

the other smells.

Chewie wrinkled his nose.

The stench was worse than the garbage compactor

in which she and Han and Chewie and Luke had found

themselves at first meeting.

Fortunately for her, her bounty hunter's disguise

filtered out the worst of the odors. Poor Chewie. She

hoped where they were going had a good filtration system

for its air, ozone generators or air fresheners, at

least.

Ahead, a glowstick sputtered, painting the dim corridor

with flashes of faltering light before it blinked out.

Somewhere in the corridor behind them, somebody

—or something—screamed. The cry dwindled into a

liquidy gargle at the end.

Leia kept her hand on her blaster.

220 STAR WARS

How long until we leave hyperspace?" Vader asked.

"A few hours, my lord," his captain said.

"I will be in my chambers. Send someone to tell me

when we arrive at the system."

"Yes, my lord."

I will be there soon, my son.

This was almost too easy, Luke thought as he picked

his lightsaber up from the table. The little storage room

was empty; no one seemed to be awake or about, and

there was his comlink right there on the table. He

would call Artoo, have him warm up the X-wing and

send Luke a homing signal. Once he got into his ship,

these cloobs would never catch him again.

Luke put the blaster rifle on the table and reached

for his comlink.

"Who's there? Move and I'll shoot!"

Uh-oh—

Deep in the Southern Underground the corridor

opened up into a huge hemispherical chamber, as big as

a city square, with a high roof, good lighting, and a

circle of shops around the perimeter. Here the thick

smells thinned. People and aliens moved about, protected

by armed guards in some kind of uniform who

were obviously here to maintain some semblance of order.

It could have been a small-town shopping area almost

anywhere on any civilized planet.

Around part of the circle where they stood were a

bakery, a weapon shop, a shoe store, a clothing kiosk,

an electronics market. Here a restaurant, there a cantina,

and there, a plant store. Leia sighed, relieved. The

place had changed since she'd been here, but their destination

was still here.

"There," she said to Chewie.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 221

The inside of the plant store smelled great, would

have been delightful anywhere but more so given these

surroundings. There were platters of gray stikmoss,

potted stretchy plants, flowers of all kinds, colored

from red to violet, and thick, billowy sheets of yellow

fungus draped on the walls and ceiling. This latter produced

oxygen without a need for sunlight and was thus

particularly suited for underground habitat. The

amount of oxy in the air here was so great it made Leia

lightheaded to breathe it.

The ceiling was four meters high, necessary because

the original owner of the plant shop had been an old

Ho'Din named Spero. Ho'Din were usually at least

three meters tall themselves, counting their vermis-like

hair, which looked like nothing so much as a nest of

snakes covered with bright red and violet scales.

Leia looked around and spotted the tall and spindly

alien as he moved from behind a display of feather

trees that brushed against the ceiling. Old Spero was

still alive. Another stroke of good luck.

"Good meeting," Spero said. "How may I assist

you?"

Leia spoke. "We're here to collect a debt, Master

Gardener."

Since many Ho'Din were famous for their ecological

work, especially that with plants, "Master Gardener"

was considered a high honorific among them. Spero

had earned his title by creating the strain of yellow fungus

that hung on his walls and was used all over the

galaxy.

"I cannot recall that I owe anyone a debt," the old

Ho'Din said. "Certainly not strangers." He looked

amused.

"Not even Leia Organa?"

Now he did smile. "Ah, yes. The princess. I owe her

my life and those of my entire family."

"She would have you aid us."

222 STAR WARS

"And how do I know you are from Princess Organa?"

"How else would we know of your debt?"

He nodded. "Reasonable. What would you have of

me?"

"We need to know about Black Sun. Who runs it,

how we might contact them."

Spero sighed. "I was about to make tea. Would you

care for some?"

"Another time, perhaps."

"Well, then. Black Sun is led by the Falleen, Xizor.

He is known variously as the 'Dark Prince,' or sometimes

'Underlord.' He is also the owner and president

of XTS—Xizor Transportation Systems—a more or less

legitimate concern worth billions in itself. He seldom

leaves Coruscant, has a palace that ranks with those of

the Emperor and Darth Vader." Spero pointed up at

the ceiling. "On the surface, though portions of it extend

deep into the ground."

Leia and Chewie looked at each other. This confirmed

what Guri had told her. It was what she needed

to know. Leia nodded and started to turn away.

"Thank you, Master Gardener," she said.

"You are welcome, princess."

Leia turned back to stare up at the old alien. "Excuse

me?"

"Ho'Din are not limited to their eyes and ears, princess."

The thick fleshy "hair" on his head stirred and

waved, flashing bright under the shop's lights. "We

never forget our friends."

Leia bowed. "Then consider our debt balanced."

The Ho'Din bowed in return. "Nonsense. My

grandchildren's grandchildren could never live long

enough to repay you. But I am happy to have been of

some small service. Move with care, princess. Black

Sun is a formidable foe."

"I will. Thank you again, Master Spero."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 223

Outside in the open area, Leia nodded at Chewie.

"Well, it seems as if that much of Guri's story is true.

Best we go and meet her."

Chewie growled, and she wasn't sure if he was

agreeing or disagreeing with her.

24

Luke still held his lightsaber loosely in his right hand.

He gripped the weapon tighter, thumb on the control

as he slowly turned to face the owner of the voice behind

him.

"Sorry, I thought this was the 'fresher," Luke said.

Well. It was worth a try.

The alien facing him was a Nikto, and the comment

must have puzzled him, at least for a second. Then his

horn-rimmed eyes went wide as he recognized Luke.

He thrust the blaster out one-handed.

Luke thumbed the lightsaber control. The glowing

blade added its light to the dim room.

The Nikto fired, and a red bolt speared at Luke. He

let the Force flow, and the bolt ricocheted from his

blade, bounced back . . . and hit the shooter in the

foot. The Nikto dropped his weapon, grabbed at his

wounded extremity, and began hopping on his other

foot, yelling.

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 225

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, owl"

If it wasn't so dangerous it would have been funny.

So much for sneaking out undetected.

Luke ran at the injured shooter, hit him with his

shoulder in passing, and knocked him sprawling.

As the swoopers had been, the Nikto also was more

adept at cursing than he was at shooting.

Doors began to open into the hallway, and armed

bounty hunters, most of them dressed for sleep,

emerged.

He was in for it now.

He swung the lightsaber and tried to cut a path to

freedom.

Leia and Chewie worked their way to where they

were to meet Guri. The place was a public park on the

surface, a small dab of planted greenery surrounded by

plasticrete and durasteel.

"It took you longer than expected," Guri said when

she saw them.

"We stopped to see the sights," Leia said.

Guri glared at her, and Leia felt strongly that the

woman—no, the droid—didn't like her.

"Follow me," Guri said.

A horizontal hail of energy bolts stabbed at Luke—

The Force let him move faster than he thought

possible, and he wove a defensive tapestry with his

lightsaber that turned the hard rain away. Ricocheting

beams hit and pierced walls, bounty hunters, the floor,

the ceiling. It was dangerous to be here, no matter

where you stood.

Amazed as he was at his speed and skill, Luke knew

it couldn't continue. He had to miss only one block and

he would be a goner. Sooner or later, they'd get him.

226 STAR WA R S

He ran forward down the hall, and the shooters

ahead of him gave way against their own reflected firepower.

There was a lot of yelling going on with the blasting:

"—look out, you fool—!"

"—there he is, get him—!"

"—watch it, watch it—!"

"—I'm hit—!"

He didn't know how far he had to go to get to the

exit. He had a good idea that if it wasn't pretty close,

he wasn't going to make it.

But Luke went with the flow of the Force, continued

to cut and block, to parry bolts and flesh and bones as

the bounty hunters tried to stop him. There wasn't a lot

of choice; he couldn't exactly stop to think about

things.

Ahead and to his left, the wall suddenly shattered

and imploded.

Smoking debris spattered in all directions. Some of

the bounty hunters were blown down by the implosion;

others fled. Smoke roiled and filled the corridor; acrid

vapor burned Luke's nostrils.

The general chaos increased.

What—?

"Luke?"

He knew that voice.

"Lando? Over here!"

Yet another blaster joined the fray, only this one

wasn't aimed at Luke. Bounty hunters fell.

"Regroup!" somebody yelled. "We're under attack!"

The confusion increased.

Luke saw Lando stride through the smoke and

smelly vapor, saw him fire with offhand precision, nailing

several of the confused bounty hunters.

"Like shooting snakes in a shoe box," Lando said.

He grinned. "You called for a cab?"

"Me? What makes you think I want to leave? I'm

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 227

having fun here." Luke pivoted and chopped the barrel

off an outthrust blaster. The weapon began to hiss and

spew sparks, and the startled owner dropped it and

fled.

"Yeah, right you are. This way."

Lando led the way, blaster working. Luke followed,

blocking shots from behind.

They went through the ruptured wall and into the

night.

It wouldn't take long for the bounty hunters to pull

themselves together. They had better get far away before

that happened.

"I've got a, uh, borrowed landspeeder parked over

there," Lando said. He paused, fired at the building

behind him. "What say we go for a ride?"

Somebody in the ruptured wall yelled in surprise and

pain as Lando's blaster bolt found him.

"The Falcon is in the middle of a public park five

minutes away. I left Threepio watching it."

"Threepio? Where are Leia and Chewie?"

"That's a long story. Better we get back to the ship

before I tell it."

"How'd you know where to find me?"

"Dash gave me the planet. I got here and found out

about the raid on the Bothan safe house. I know a few

locals who owed me favors; they told me where these

yabbos had set up shop."

Lando ducked. A blaster beam sizzled overhead,

missed by a good two meters. "Can we go now and

play Question the Quarren later?"

"Good idea."

They ran.

Behind them, the bounty hunters kept shooting.

Aizor observed with a critical eye the lower branches

of his six-hundred-year-old miniature firethorn tree.

228 STAR WARS

The small plant had been a gift from a former rival

seeking to make peace with Black Sun after

a . . . business disagreement. Less than half a meter

high, the tiny tree was a nearly perfect replica of the

hundred-meter-tall firethorn trees that grew only in a

single small grove of the Irugian Rain Forest on Abbaji.

The dwarf tree had been in the former rival's family for

ten generations and was, to one who knew the value of

such things, most precious. Were his fortunes to evaporate

and leave him completely broke, Xizor would still

not sell this plant, not if somebody offered him a decamillion

credits.

There were those who would offer that much and

more. Little trees such as this had connected to them a

great deal of history.

He moved the tiny mechanical scissors in with great

precision. Centered the almost hair-fine branch between

the blades . . . cut . . .

Ah. Perfect. That single cut was all the trimming

needed this year. Perhaps next season he would take off

that obtuse-angled branchlet on the next ascending

branch. He had a year to think about it. He pulled the

scissors away carefully. Regarded the firethorn. Beautiful,

it was. Beautiful enough to excuse the mistakes of

its former owner. The man had made errors in judgment,

but this gift showed he was also a man of some

taste and intelligence. Errors could be forgiven if there

were other mitigating reasons. Xizor was, after all, a

civilized being, not a reflexive thug.

He would allow Princess Leia to find that out about

him. Just as he would allow her to find out other, more

intimate things about him . . .

It's so good to see that you are all right, Master

Luke."

"Good to see you, too, Threepio," Luke said.

SHADOWS OF THE E M P I R E 229

Lando hurried past them for the Falcon's cockpit.

"Move it, Luke," Lando called back. "Not only do

we have the bounty hunters to worry about, there's an

Imperial convoy heading this way. They've just

dropped out of hyperspace and into the system."

Luke hurried. He reached the control seat and sat,

strapped himself down.

"Yeah? Anybody we know?" He was already reaching

for preflight switches.

"I didn't get close enough to read nameplates, but

the lead ship is a Star Destroyer."

"Victory-class?"

"Bigger than that."

"Imperial-class?"

"Try again."

Luke looked away from the controls at Lando, eyes

going wide. "No."

"Yep. Super-class."

"Is it . . . Executor?"

"Like I said, I didn't get that close. But how many of

those are there? They don't crank those babies up just

for fun."

Luke stared into infinity. Was it Darth Vader? What

would he be doing here?

"Let's finish the flight check fast," Lando said. "I

don't think we want to stick around here."

"I hear that. Wait. Artoo is in my X-wing."

"I know, I spotted it. I've got a tractor beam with

his name on it. I'll overfly the X-wing and pull it up;

we'll stow it in the hull clips." Lando pointed at the

control screen. "We're going to slingshot out of here

and hit lightspeed fast. Even if it isn't Vader on that

monster, we don't want to tangle with it."

Luke nodded and reached for the comm. "Where are

we going?"

"Back to Tatooine. That's where Leia wants us to

go."

230 STAR WARS

"Where is she?"

"Let's talk about that later, okay?" Lando touched

controls, listened as the ship's engines came online.

"Better sit down back there, Goldie," Lando yelled.

"We are about to be gone!"

25

A hundred stormtroopers surrounded the building,

blasters ready to cook anybody who twitched.

Darth Vader stood in the darkness staring at the

breach that had been blown in the building's wall.

Night insects hummed, and the air smelled of burned

insulation. He didn't need to go inside to know that

Luke was not there; if the boy was anywhere within

fifty kilometers he would certainly have felt him.

These bounty hunters had captured him—then they

had lost him.

Vader was not pleased.

The commander of the stormtroopers stood nervously

nearby, waiting for a command. Vader gave him

such: "Bring me the highest-ranking survivor."

"At once, my lord." The commander waved, and a

squad moved into the building. Shots were exchanged.

Time passed.

Two troopers emerged, dragging a man between

232 STAR WARS

them. They brought him to where Vader stood and released

him. The prisoner tottered but stayed on his feet.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Y-Y-Yes, Lord Vader."

"Good. Where is Skywalker?"

"H-H-He escaped."

Vader clenched his fist, and the man clawed at his

throat. "I know he escaped, fool."

The man choked; his eyes grew wider. Vader waited

for a few seconds, then opened his hand.

The man gasped, sucked in air. "I was a-a-asleep,

my lord. I awoke to blaster fire. I left my quarters and

saw Skywalker in the hall. It—it didn't seem real. A

dozen of us shot at him and he waved that lightsaber

back and forth and blocked the bolts!"

Despite his anger, Vader was pleased. The boy's skill

and power were increasing. "Continue."

"More of our men arrived. We were sure to overcome

him, but then the wall blew in. We were attacked.

I couldn't tell how many there were, fifteen, maybe

twenty. We were outnumbered. When the fighting was

over, Skywalker was gone."

Vader glanced up into space. And offplanet, too, he

would wager. He would take his shuttle back to the

Executor; perhaps it was not too late to catch him.

He glanced back at the bounty hunter. "I understand

that someone else wanted Skywalker. Who?"

"I—I don't know, Lord Vader—"

Vader raised his hand again, started to curl his fingers

into a fist.

"Wait! Please! I don't know, we—we dealt with

agents."

He looked at the bounty hunter. Felt something

more there.

"You have a suspicion," Vader said. Not a question.

"I—some of us heard rumors. I don't know if they

are true."

"Tell me."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 233

"We—we heard that it was . . . Black Sun."

Vader stared at the man. Of course.

"And this other , . . bidder wanted Skywalker

alive and well?"

"N-N-No, my lord. They wanted him dead."

Abruptly he turned away, the prisoner forgotten. Of

course. He had unconsciously suspected it all along.

Now that it was out, it made perfect sense. Xizor

wanted to thwart Vader in any manner he could. What

better way than to kill his son, and by the same act

embarrass him in front of the Emperor?

"Back to the shuttle," he said to the commander.

"What about this scum?" He waved at the building

and the prisoner.

"Leave them. They are worthless." Vader was already

walking away.

The Falcon hung in high orbit, about to slingshot

away. Artoo was safely on board, and Luke's X-wing

was clamped in place. Luke didn't trust the haphazard

rig that slung the fighter on the larger vessel, but it kept

it out of the way of the guns, and it should hold. He

hoped.

"Artoo! I didn't think I would ever see you again!"

Threepio said.

Artoo whistled at Threepio.

"Yes, we have had our share of adventures, as well. I

must say I don't like all this business the least bit.

Couldn't we find a nice quiet planet and take a vacation?

Someplace warm, with a deep pool of lube?"

Luke grinned. Artoo and Threepio were always

amusing.

Lando broke from orbit and headed out into interplanetary

space.

"How long before we can make the jump to hyperspace,

Master Lando?"

"Couple of minutes," he replied. "And how's this

234 STAR WARS

for a change of luck—there aren't even any Imperial

vessels on our tail. About time something went our

way."

Luke nodded. While waiting for Lando to bring the

hyperdrive online, he said, "How's Dash doing? He

was pretty upset after we hit that freighter."

"Not so good. Pretty depressed. He can't believe he

actually failed at something. Had to happen sooner or

later, but he isn't used to it."

"Stuff like that goes on in war," Luke said. "You get

disappointed." Like he had been with Dash. Too bad.

"Yeah. What was in the computer that was so important,

anyway?"

Luke shrugged. "I don't know. The Bothans had just

broken it open when the bounty hunters hit the safe

house."

"Did the bounty hunters get the computer?"

"I don't think so. I don't think they even knew it

was there. They were after me. Last I saw, one of the

Bothan techs had the computer. I believe he escaped

with it."

"If he did, the Bothans will get it to the Alliance,"

Lando said. "They're pretty dependable. I guess we'll

find out what it was eventually."

"Yeah."

"Stand by for the jump to hyperspace."

Lando hit the control.

Nothing happened.

Luke turned to stare at him.

"Oh, dear," Threepio said. "There seems to be a

problem."

"It must be one of Han's modifications!" Lando

said. "My people supposedly fixed this thing on Bespin!

It's not my fault!"

"Fine. What do we do now?"

"Find a place to hide and fix it before we bump into

the Imperial Navy."

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 235

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Threepio said.

Artoo whistled his agreement.

Guri led Leia and Chewie back into the Underground.

They walked for hours, turning and twisting

into narrower and narrower corridors. Eventually they

came to a heavy, locked gate that Guri opened. She

locked the gate behind them, and they moved into what

looked like a small repulsor train station.

A man waited there. He was short, squat, and bald,

built like a freight handler from some heavy gee world.

He wore gray coveralls and had a blaster strapped on

his left hip. He smiled, revealing teeth he'd had done in

what looked to be black chrome.

Guri said, "Go with him."

"Where are you going?"

"Not your business. Just do as you are told and you

will see Prince Xizor soon enough."

She turned and walked away without another word.

The bald man came over to stand in front of Leia.

"This way," he said.

Baldy led the way to a small motorized cart parked

outside. There was barely enough room in it for the

three of them. Fortunately, there was a convertible roof

on the thing, so with the top down, Chewie could sit

up without bumping his head. They drove into a tunnel

halfway around the circle of shops. Baldy touched a

control on the cart, and a heavy metal grate covering

the mouth of the corridor slid into the ceiling. Inside,

the tunnel was clean, well lighted, no mold or graffiti

on the walls, the floor free of dirt.

They drove for a long time; they probably covered

ten or twelve kilometers. Finally the tunnel opened out

into a large chamber, in the middle of which sat a bullet

car floating on magnetic repulsors over a single rail

track.

Wherever they were going, it must be a way off;

236 S TAR WARS

maglev cars could cover long distances in a hurry,

three, four hundred kilometers an hour, especially in a

complete tunnel such as this one was. It didn't pay to

get them up to speed for anything less than a fairly long

run.

Chewie and Leia followed Baldy into the car.

When they were seated and strapped in, Baldy said,

"Go."

The bullet car moved smoothly away from the

chamber and into a dark tunnel. It picked up velocity

fast. A row of small yellow service lamps ringed the

tunnel every few hundred meters, and it wasn't long

before the yellow circle seemed to be flashing over them

continuously.

Wherever they were going, they were going to get

there pretty soon, even if it was halfway around the

planet.

Leia looked at Chewie and wished she could read his

expressions better. He looked calm. Calmer than she

felt.

She hoped she was doing the right thing, though it

was a little late to worry about that now, wasn't it?

What's the problem?" Luke said.

From the service well below him, Lando's reply was

more than a bit irritated: "The problem is that Han

and Chewie have completely reset, rewired, and

screwed up this whole ship! I'm looking at a serpent's

nest of wires where there is supposed to be a pop-out

circuit board! The schematics don't apply to anything

here!"

"Well, can you fix it?"

"I'm trying to fix it! Pass me that jumper bypass."

Luke picked up the JB, which looked like a bar with

two sharp fingers making the V sign on one end. He

had to lie on his belly to reach Lando.

Lando submitted, in a colorful fashion, that Han's

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 237

ancestry was in question and that his personal habits

left much to be desired.

Despite the danger of their situation, Luke grinned.

"Get Artoo to peek over the edge; maybe he knows

what this blue wire is supposed to do."

Artoo heard. He rolled to the lip of the service well,

"leaned" forward, and peered down into it. Whistled

and chirred for a moment.

"Yeeowch!" Lando yelled.

"Probably you'd better not touch that one."

"Now you tell me. What about this yellow one?"

Artoo whistled.

It looked as if they were going to be there a while,

Luke figured.

They had managed to find the remains of a small

moon or maybe a large asteroid in a big parabolic orbit

around the planet and had nestled the Falcon in among

the larger rocks and matched their velocity. From a distance,

with most of its power shut down, the ship

should be just another one of the cluster of big boulders.

Not enough gravity here to clump them back together;

they'd be a known hazard for ships and

probably avoided. Even a Super-class Star Destroyer

didn't want a bunch of building-size rocks smacking

into its shields at speed; that would be a lot of kinetic

energy to have to bleed off all at once.

At least that was what Luke and Lando hoped.

"Pass me those needle-head pliers," Lando said.

Luke complied. "You need me down there to help?

I'm pretty good with tools."

"I used to own this ship," Lando said. "I'll figure

out a way around what Han has done to her. The man

ought to be ashamed of himself."

"I'll mention that to him when we get him out of the

carbonite," Luke said.

"So will I. High, loud, and repeatedly."

238 STAR WARS

The bullet car slowed. The bands of yellow blinked

around them at longer intervals. When the car came to

a stop, it was inside a vast chamber, as big as a state

ballroom. The platform at which it stopped had six

large guards on it, each dressed in gray armor and

armed with a blast rifle. Baldy stepped out and grinned

his shiny black smile. "This way," he said.

Two of the guards broke away from the others and

moved behind Chewie and Leia. "Take the helmet off,"

Baldy said. "You won't be needing it anymore."

Baldy led them to a door as thick as that of a bank

vault. He pressed his hand against a reader, and the

door clicked and swung open. He led them inside a tall,

arched corridor wide enough for a dozen men to walk

through side by side. The massive door swung shut behind

them. It was very cold here, cold enough for their

breathing to show as vapor.

A short distance ahead was another door, another

six guards in armor in front of it. Not as heavy as the

door behind them, it was still thick enough and run by

a print-reader, and when they'd gotten through it, there

were yet more guards.

It seemed as if whoever ran this place didn't want

unexpected company.

They came to a bank of four turbolifts. Baldy

punched a code into a keypad, and the door to the lift

on the left opened. The three of them stepped in, leaving

the two guards behind.

As the lift rose, Leia said, "Learned to trust us already?"

She nodded at the guards they'd dropped off.

Baldy smiled. The lift stopped, and another pair of

guards stood there.

Well. Perhaps Baldy hadn't learned to trust them after

all.

A series of corridors branched away from the

turbolifts, and Baldy led them down one that linked to

a maze of other hallways. Leia tried to keep track of all

the twists and turns—she had a pretty good memory

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 239

for such things—but halfway through an intricate

chain of left and right tacks, the lights went out. "Just

keep walking," Baldy said. "I'll tell you when to turn."

They walked in darkness for five minutes, Baldy calling

out now and then. "Turn left." "Turn right." "Veer

forty-five to the left for five steps, then veer right."

When the lights went back on—how could he have

seen to lead them?—Leia was thoroughly lost.

Whatever fat spider crouched in the center of this

web, he truly did not want anybody just dropping by

unannounced.

Eventually Baldy led them into a hallway. At the end

of the hall were two tall, carved wooden doors and,

standing to the sides, two more guards. These didn't

wear armor, had no rifles but wore blasters on lowslung

belts. They were big men who looked as if they

knew how to use their hands. One of them reached for

the doorknobs and opened the doors as they approached.

Baldy said, "In there." With that, he turned and

walked away.

Leia looked at Chewie. Realized her pulse was racing

and her stomach was fluttery. She took a deep

breath and let part of it out.

She stepped into the room, Chewie behind her.

A tall man—no, not a man but an exotic-looking

alien—rose from behind a large desk and smiled at her.

"Ah," he said, "Princess Leia Organa and Chewbacca.

Welcome. I am Xizor."

It was the voice she'd heard over the hotel's comm.

Leia's pulse speeded up yet more. She felt a sudden

giddiness, as if her brain had fogged over. So here she

was at last, facing the person in charge of the galaxy's

largest criminal organization. That was strange enough

all by itself, but to make it even more so, he was absolutely

. . . gorgeousl

26

low is it going down there?" Luke said.

"Don't ask," Lando said.

"I'm going to see what I can whip up in the galley,

you want something?"

"Yeah, how about a beaker full of battery acid and

bug poison."

Luke shook his head, stood, and headed for the galley.

Stopped suddenly as if he'd been touched by a cold

hand.

"Master Luke? Are you all right?"

Luke ignored Threepio. There was a disturbance in

the Force, a dark blot on its perfection. It felt familiar

somehow . . .

Uh-oh.

Luke turned and hurried back to the service well.

"You'd better get it fixed fast, Lando."

"What's the hurry?"

"I think we're about to have company."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 241

Lando poked his head up over the edge of the well.

"What? No way anybody could find us in here."

"Yeah? Want to bet?"

"Oh, man. Don't even say what you're thinking,"

Lando said.

"Huh?"

"Don't say, ' I've got a bad feeling about this.'"

Luke stared at him.

Lando disappeared back into the service well. "I'm

hurrying, I'm hurrying!"

Luke headed for the cockpit to check the sensors. If

it was who he thought it was, hiding in a clump of

rocks wasn't going to do much good. You could run,

but from some things, you couldn't hide.

Aizor was pleased. The young woman sitting across

from him, backed by her furry bodyguard, was every

bit as delightful as he had hoped, even more so. Thus

far, they had spoken of trivial things, in generalities. He

pretended to be honored that she was a high Alliance

official come to call; she pretended that she wasn't disgusted

that he was a criminal. And, in fact, it didn't

really matter what she felt, now that she was here in his

grasp.

No, the thing now was how best to proceed with his

courtship, if he could think in such terms.

Already he had allowed some of his potent pheromones

to seep into the air. He'd fought hard to keep

his skin color from altering too much, but there was a

definite warm glow to it. The Wookiee didn't seem to

notice, but Leia had responded to the chemical attractants

he exuded. She felt drawn to him; he knew

this from long experience with women. He was not

unattractive to look at, and with the added lure of his

enhanced hormones, it would take a very strong and

very determined humanoid female to resist him.

As a young man, he had felt the pull that Leia was

242 STAR WARS

now feeling. Falleen women had their version, and it

was hard to ignore when one of them . . . blossomed

for you. Like a hothouse flower sending its fragrance

into the air, Falleen pheromones swirled and wrapped

anyone close enough into their urgent embrace. As

strong as a durasteel vise . . .

If Leia had any sensuality whatsoever, she could

only pretend that she wasn't attracted to him—as she

now tried to do. He had to give her credit; she was not

volunteering how she felt. But the flush of her cheeks,

her slightly faster breathing, her . . . yearning, all

were obvious to one who had seen them a thousand

times before. To one who knew how to spot the signs

and use them to his best advantage, as did Xizor. And

use them he would.

"You must be tired from your trip," Xizor said.

"You should refresh yourself, change clothes, relax a

bit before we delve into serious matters."

"I didn't exactly bring my wardrobe with me."

Xizor waved a hand and affected a man-of-thegalaxy

smile. "Such things are easily remedied. I'll have

Howzmin show you to your quarters. We have had

other visitors from time to time, and a gracious host

looks after his company's needs. Perhaps there are a

few articles of clothing you might find acceptable in

your room. I have pressing business to which I must

attend. Refresh yourself and rejoin me in a couple of

hours."

Leia glanced at her bodyguard, then back at him.

Xizor favored her with his sexiest smile.

She looked flustered. "Yes. All right. We are a little

tired."

Xizor waved his foot unseen under his desk, and a

sensor there transmitted the motion to a paging device

implanted in Howzmin. The door opened, and the bald

servant stepped into the room.

"Show Princess Leia and Chewbacca to their

rooms."

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 243

"At once, Prince Xizor."

After they were gone, Xizor sat, breathing slowly

and deeply, enjoying the feel of imminent victory. Before

their next meeting, he would do the meditation

and exercises that brought his hormonal essences into

full array. An excited Falleen who loosed his full pheromonal

arsenal was, for all practical purposes, irresistible

to a member of the opposite sex. It did not matter

what a woman's stance was on fidelity, that she had

been a faithful partner to another for years or decades.

Falleen pheromones were more potent than the strongest

spice. Leia might want to resist him with her mind,

but her body would ache for him. There was no antidote

save one.

Xizor smiled. He would enjoy administering the single

antidote to Leia. He would enjoy it very much indeed

. . .

Leia was shaken. As Howzmin led her and Chewie

down another convoluted hallway, she had to take several

deep breaths to calm herself. What had that been

all about? That—That emotional attraction that rolled

over her like a tropical ocean breaker? Sure, Xizor was

good-looking in an exotic kind of way, but she'd never

before been one to stare dumbstruck at a handsome

face. What she had felt, what she had wanted to do,

well, that wasn't like her at all. Besides, she was in love

with Han. That wasn't something you just put into a

drawer when you saw an attractive man—Falleen. That

wasn't right.

Then again, she couldn't deny she'd felt it. The alien

called to her somehow. It had been like a punch to the

solar plexus; it had knocked the wind out of her.

Well. No matter. She blew out a sigh. She was back

to normal; she would stay on target. She'd come here

to help Luke. When that was done, they were going to

rescue Han. She would put whatever it was she had felt

244 STAR WARS

for the mysterious Xizor out of her mind and never

think about it again.

The part of her that sat somewhere in her mind

watching and listening and refusing to allow anything

but the truth to pass it seemed to chuckle: Oh, really?

You might not do anything about what you felt for

him, sister, but you won't be able to forget it that easily.

Shut up, she mentally told the little voice. I don't

need this.

Maybe not, sister, but you have it.

"This is your room," Howzmin said. "The Wookiee

will be in the next suite."

Leia shook herself from the interior dialogue and

nodded at Howzmin.

Chewie said something that sounded like a question.

Leia said, "I'll be okay in here. If Xizor wanted to

harm us, he could have done it before now. Go on.

Wash that dye out, we don't need it anymore. Meet me

back here when you're done."

Chewie nodded and followed Howzmin to the next

door.

The portal in front of Leia slid back as she approached,

and she stepped into the room.

It was a study in understated elegance, she saw.

The carpet was so deep she sank nearly to her ankles

in it. Black neocel, she guessed, and probably a murderous

job to keep clean. There was a white leather couch,

probably cloned, which sat in stark contrast to the carpet,

a round bed with black sheets and a comforter

under a translucent white canopy held up by six carved

posts. A white desk with a computer on it and a black

chair tucked neatly under the desk occupied a niche

next to the bed.

Simple, elegant, and probably as expensive as any

Grand Moff hotel suite in the galaxy.

Leia submitted to an urge to remove her boots and

walk barefoot across the rug. The material was either

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 245

naturally warm or was kept heated somehow, and it

felt wonderful between her toes.

There was a refresher on the other side of a closed

door, also done in black and white, tile, sinks, tub, all

of them sculpted into smooth and rounded shapes.

She found a closet door back in the main room and

opened it.

There were clothes in the closet, all right. Unlike the

rooms, they were all the colors of the rainbow: dresses,

shirts, pants, jackets, jumpsuits. Leia removed a hanger

upon which was draped a diaphanous dress of nearly

transparent green material so light it weighed almost

nothing and looked at it. Touched it. She was not

somebody who spent large amounts of money on clothing,

but she knew quality when she saw it, even without

the tag that confirmed it. This dress was a

Melanani original, made of Loveti moth fiber, and for

what it cost, you could buy a new landspeeder.

A quick scan of the other clothes revealed that they

were also first-class originals. Looked after his company's

needs, indeed. There were probably enough

credits represented by this one closet to buy and furnish

houses on many planets, with enough left over to hire

cooks and gardeners to go with them.

Leia started to close the closet, then stopped. She

reached back inside and examined the label on the first

dress she'd seen.

My. Look at that. It was just her size.

A sudden thought occurred to her, and she began

checking the other labels.

They were all her size.

She blinked and stared into the closet. Could it be

coincidence? The leader of Black Sun just happened to

have a closet full of clothes in her size?

She didn't think so. Maybe Howzmin out there had

gotten her measurements via sensor somewhere along

the way and had done the fastest shopping trip in history.

Xizor had credits to burn. Maybe there were a

246 STAR WA R S

dozen rooms all stocked this way, each for a differentsize

visitor? Not likely, but possible.

Xizor had known she was coming, after all; perhaps

he was just being a considerate host.

•She shook her head. She was tired. Maybe she

would bathe and stretch out for a few minutes. As for

the expensive clothes? Well, he had gone to some trouble

no matter what the explanation. If he found such

things attractive, perhaps she should slip into one of

the outfits and use that to her advantage. Keep him off

balance. If he was busy ogling her, maybe he would be

more likely to give away something she needed.

And her little voice said, Really, sister, who do you

think you're fooling here? You want to look good for

him, admit it.

Yes, all right, so what? She wasn't married. There

wasn't any law against flirting a little, was there? She

wasn't going to do anything with the head of a criminal

underground, now, was she? What could it hurt to

dress up a little? She hadn't gotten to do much of that

since she'd thrown her lot in with the Alliance—not

that she missed it much—but given the situation, who

would be hurt by it?

Careful, sister. These are dangerous waters. Better

watch out for sea serpents.

Oh, spare me. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself.

She went to run hot water into the bathtub.

I think that's got it," Lando said as he clambered

out of the service well.

"You think?"

"Won't know for sure until we engage the drive."

"Master Lando, Master Lando!"

Threepio came careening in, waving his arms and

throwing gold highlights every which way.

"What?"

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 247

"The sensors indicate that a ship is approaching! A

very large vessel! An enormous ship!"

Lando looked at Luke. "I wonder who that could

be."

"I hope you fixed the drive," Luke said. "Otherwise

I think we're going to find out."

The two of them hurried past the droid for the cockpit.

On the way, Luke felt that cold touch reach him

through the Force. He knew who it was. The only

question was, could Darth Vader feel him as well?

"Lord Vader?"

Vader stared through the viewer at the rock field

ahead of them. He didn't bother to look at his captain.

"What is it?"

"We are approaching the asteroid field."

Now Vader turned to stare at the captain. "Do you

mean that asteroid field directly in front of us?" He

pointed at the viewer.

Flustered, the captain plowed on. "Yes, Lord. Our

sensors cannot detect any sign of a ship in the region."

"Nonetheless, there is something in the field," Vader

said. "I cannot pinpoint it, but there is a locus for the

Force in those rocks and I mean to find it."

"Certainly, Lord Vader. Ah, might I suggest that we

send out fighters? Entering the asteroid field at right

angles will place a great deal of strain on the ship's

shields."

"Very well. Tell them to look for anything unusual,

anything at all. If they find something, they are not to

engage it but to report back immediately."

"Yes, my lord. I'll send them out at once."

Vader turned back to the viewer. Was it Luke? He

couldn't yet be sure. The dark side might not have limits,

but he had, and all he could tell at this distance was

that some powerful locus for the Force lay in that col-

248 STAR WARS

lection of shattered rocks ahead of them. He didn't believe

it could be anything else but Luke, but he was not

certain. He had to proceed with caution. With Xizor's

manipulations poisoning the well at Imperial Center, it

was more important than ever to capture Luke alive. A

little closer and the vagueness would undoubtedly resolve

itself. He was too close to lose his son again.

Sooner or later, he would find him and turn him to the

dark side. He was sure of it. He was Darth Vader; he

had exterminated the remaining Jedi with his own

hands. All but the strongest of them, his own son.

Sooner or later he would face the last would-be Jedi.

One way or another, he would deal with him, too.

Leia used the blowers to dry off after her bath,

combed her hair out, and had to admit she felt a whole

lot better than she had in a while. It wasn't often these

days she got to soak in a hot tub. Most of the places

she'd been, the ships she'd traveled there on, you were

lucky if they had enough recycled graywater for a tepid

shower. You got in, sprayed just enough water on

yourself to get wet, lathered all over, and rinsed off

with a few liters before the automatic timer shut it off.

It was better than nothing but not nearly as much fun

as stretching out in a vat carved out of black marble

full of steaming water so hot it turned your skin red.

That had to be one of civilization's best luxuries.

She went to the closet, opened it. Noticed a small

drawer built into the wall and saw that it contained

undergarments. Well. Xizor thought of everything.

All right. Which of these dresses should she wear?

Aizor stared at the blank spot where the holoproj

would be if he lit it. There were hidden holocams

throughout the castle, of course, in virtually every

room.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 249

Including the room in which Leia had been installed.

He toyed with the thought of running the recording,

to see if she'd taken advantage of what the room had to

offer.

But—no. He didn't want to spoil it. He would get a

closer look at her later.

Much closer.

27

The Millennium Falcon left the asteroid field opposite

the approaching megaship and was ready to make the

jump to hyperspace.

Luke looked at his sensors. "We have TIE fighters

coming in. I make it about three dozen of them. Any

time, Lando."

"Here goes," Lando said. "If you believe in luck,

wish for the good version."

He reached for the control. Engaged the drive—

Nothing happened.

Lando swore at the ship, a string of colorful phrases,

including several graphic—if highly unlikely—descriptions

of things he wished it would do to itself.

"I'd better get back to the guns," Luke said. He

started to rise.

"No, wait—"

"We don't have time to wait; in ten seconds we are

going to be swarmed with TIEs—"

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 251

Lando touched another control, made an adjustment.

"Now!"

The Millennium Falcon leaped. Space blurred

around it in the familiar shift as the freighter transited

to hyperspace.

"Ha-hah!" Lando said.

Luke, halfway out of his seat, was thrown back into

it hard. When he recovered himself, he glared at Lando.

"You cut that awful close."

Lando shrugged. "Hey, you wanted a boring life,

you should have stayed on Tatooine." He smiled,

pleased with himself. "I knew I could fix it."

Luke shook his head but had to smile in return.

They were, for the moment at least, safe. What did it

matter what had almost happened? Almost didn't

count.

"Now, if some other special Solo modification

doesn't put us into the middle of a star, our next stop

should be Tatooine. As soon as Leia and Chewie are

finished with their business, we can get back to rescuing

Han."

"Fine by me," Luke said. "Haven't they finished

yet?"

Lando shrugged. "They had to take a slight detour."

Luke got the feeling Lando wasn't telling him everything,

but he let it slide. He was tired. He needed to

rest, get something to eat; then he could follow up on

this conversation.

Vader stared out into space as the captain nervously

approached.

"M-My lord Vader," he began.

Vader repressed a sigh. "There is no need to say it,

Captain. Your pilots lost their prey."

"The ship left the asteroid field and made the shift

252 STAR WARS

into hyperspace as they approached. There was nothing

they could do."

"And did your pilots identify the ship?"

"It was a small Corellian freighter."

Vader said nothing. Solo's ship, the Millennium Falcon,

no doubt, now under Luke's control. Perhaps he

had the young princess with him and that traitorous

gambler Calrissian.

"Set your course for Imperial Center, Captain."

"But weren't we supposed to—"

"Let me worry about that." He paused.

The captain was correct. The Emperor had sent him

here for reasons other than to fetch Luke. "Very well.

There is a suspected Rebel base on one of the Kothlisian

moons."

"I know of no such base, my lord—"

Vader turned his gaze upon the captain, who quickly

shut up.

"As I said, there is a suspected Rebel base on the

moon. Before we leave, you will allow your men to

display their prowess by pinpoint-bombing that base."

"Yes, my lord."

Luke was gone, he couldn't tell where, and Xizor

still up to his twisted trickery within sight of the Emperor.

He would locate his son later; meanwhile, best

he get back to where he could deal with Xizor. There

was an old Sithian proverb that said, "Even when fighting

the great sabercat, it is best not to turn your back

upon the lowly serpent." A bite from a tiny spit adder

could kill you just as dead as the arm-long fangs of a

giant predator. And the snake's kiss would be slower

and more painful, too.

"Hurry, Captain. I do not wish to be kept waiting."

"No, my lord."

Leia put on a dark bodysuit before she slipped into

the nearly transparent green dress. It was probably not

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 253

the designer's intent that her choice of undergarments

cancel out the see-through cloth, but she wasn't interested

in letting Xizor look at that much of her.

It felt vaguely decadent to be wearing several thousand

credits' worth of clothes. She hadn't done that

since she'd been a girl on Alderaan.

She went into the 'fresher and looked into the mirror.

She had made use of a well-stocked makeup

drawer next to the looking glass, just a touch, and

managed to plait her hair and pin it up so it didn't

resemble the nest of a crazed ship rat. At least it was

clean. She tried a smile.

Chewie should be here by now.

She went to the room's door. Frowned when it

didn't open automatically. She found the manual control,

but when she tried it, the door still refused to slide

aside.

Ah. It seemed that Lord Xizor didn't want guests

running around loose in his castle.

But as she turned around, the door slid open.

Chewie stood there, sans his dye disguise. The haircut

still looked odd, but with the coloring gone the

Wookiee looked more familiar.

Howzmin stood behind him.

She wanted to tell Chewie that she needed to see

Xizor alone. "Give us a moment, would you?" Leia

said to Howzmin.

The servant nodded, a choppy military gesture.

Chewie stepped into the room. The door closed.

He stared at Leia. Turned his head to one side quizzically.

"What are you staring at? I put on some clean

clothes, that's all."

Chewie said nothing.

Leia felt a sudden stab of guilt. Chewie and Han

were like brothers. She hadn't done anything wrong,

but she felt as if she had, so she tried to explain it:

254 STAR WARS

"Look, we need Xizor's help. There's no reason I can't

look nice; maybe it'll throw him off guard."

Still silent, Chewie raised one eyebrow.

Leia felt herself flush. "Who is the diplomat here,

anyway? I don't tell you how to fly, you don't tell me

how to conduct interviews."

Finally the Wookiee said something. He punctuated

it with a wave of one hand at the door, then at Leia.

She didn't understand the comment, but she had a

pretty good idea of what he was trying to convey:

Chewie didn't approve. Would Han?

In a Gamorrean's eye he would.

"It's none of your business how I dress!" she said.

Maybe that came out a little more snappish than it

should have. She started to apologize but then changed

her mind. She and Han weren't married; they hadn't

had time to even pledge anything. Yes, she loved him

and she thought he loved her, but he'd never said it.

When he had the chance, he'd said, "I know." What

kind of commitment was that? "I know"? Two words

instead of three? How much harder was it to say one

more short little word?

There was nothing wrong with trying to look nice

for a handsome man, especially one who could help

save Luke's life. It wasn't as if they were going to do

anything! What was Chewie doing being so righteous?

She had nothing to feel ashamed about. Nothing at all!

Then why do you feel so guilty, sister?

In his most private of chambers, Xizor sat alone on a

pad in the otherwise bare room, eyes closed, fingers

interlaced in his lap. His breathing was deep and regular,

his mind clear. He began to concentrate as he

called upon his special hormonal abilities.

The attractants in him built, began to seep from his

pores. His pheromones came forth, colorless, odorless,

save to receptors carried by humanoid females. To the

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 255

bearer of those small organelles hidden and nearly invisible

inside the olfactory channels, the attractants

would be overwhelming; they would carry a compulsion

stronger than a hypnotic command.

There was no way to stop the color of his skin from

shading into the red. No matter. She wouldn't care

what color he was, once she felt him call to her.

He had given her but a taste of them before. Now he

would set before her a banquet. One she could not refuse.

He took a deep breath, let it out. Almost ready. The

coldness was there, but soon, soon—soon the passion

would be set free.

He smiled.

Artoo and Threepio held a quiet conversation in the

lounge. Luke, on his way to the galley to fix the meal

he'd never gotten to, paused and looked at the droids.

"Something up?"

Threepio said, "Artoo is a bit worried about Princess

Leia. I told him that she is quite resourceful,"

Threepio said. "I'm sure she's all right."

Luke shrugged. He went into the galley. In that moment,

he had the feeling that Leia, wherever she was,

was in great danger.

His hunger vanished. He didn't feel like eating anymore.

Maybe he'd better go and have that talk with

Lando. Now.

In the cockpit, Lando said, "Sorry, buddy, but I'm

not supposed to tell you."

"What?"

"The princess wants you on Tatooine, and she said

when you asked, to tell you she took care of herself

before she met you and she can take care of herself

now."

Luke glowered.

256 STAR WARS

"Besides, she's got Chewie with her. He won't let

anything happen to her, you know that."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Look, she'll probably get to Tatooine before we do.

And she's in charge, remember?"

Luke nodded. But he didn't like it. Something felt

wrong.

When the door to Xizor's sanctum opened, Leia almost

gasped. The crime lord now wore a long, flowing

robe done in shades of red that seemed to reflect that

color onto his uncovered skin. The clothing could have

been made by the same designer who had done her

dress. And he wasn't wearing a bodysuit under it. He

was big under the thin cloth, hard and muscular, and if

there were any visible anatomical differences between

him and basic stock humans, she couldn't see them.

He smiled. "Do come in, Princess."

Behind her, Chewie said something. Xizor must have

understood it because his smile dropped for an instant

before he recovered it. "Perhaps your friend would care

to take this time to dine while we conduct our negotiations?"

From Chewie's tone, he would not care for that at

all.

Leia had forgotten to tell him that in her room, so

defensive had she been about her clothes. Now she

said, "Chewie, wait outside."

He really didn't like that.

She turned to face the Wookiee. "Han would trust

me here. You should, too."

Chewie wasn't sure, but he shut up. Took a step

backward and nearly knocked Howzmin over.

"I'll be fine."

The door slid closed between them.

When she turned back around, Xizor had moved to

SHADOWS OF T H E EMP I R E 257

a small bar behind the leather couch. "Something to

drink? Luranian brandy? Green champagne?"

"Tea would be fine, Your Highness." No way she

was going to drink anything potent around him.

"Call me Xizor, please. We can dispense with titles,

now that we are alone."

Leia watched as Xizor poured her tea. He seemed

almost to . . . glow, and she felt dizzy watching him.

She moved to the couch, sat on one end. Tried to relax

but felt a strange tension grip her.

When he rounded the couch to bring her the tea, his

hip brushed against the back of her head.

It sent a shock through her, a rush that was kin to

dropping in free fall, a stomach-full-of-moths kind of

sensation. Whoa!

Xizor handed her the teacup and moved to the other

end of the couch and sat.

Leia felt a brief pang of disappointment that he

hadn't sat closer to her.

And a sudden stab of worry at that thought. What

was she doing?

She tried to bring an image of Han to mind. But all

of a moment, she couldn't see his face. It was as if she

had somehow forgotten what he looked like . . .

Stop this!

Xizor said, "So, the Alliance might be interested in

doing business with Black Sun?" He sipped at whatever

it was he was drinking.

Leia thought he looked absolutely fascinating as he

drank.

She scrambled to collect her thoughts. "Uh, yes, we,

that is to say, the Alliance, we have been considering

such an alliance."

Alliance considering an alliance? What is the matter

with you, Leia? Have you lost your wits?

Xizor seemed to take no notice of her poor choice of

language.

258 STAR WARS

"Well, certainly there are advantages to such a . . .

liaison," he said.

Leia felt hot all of a sudden. She wished she hadn't

worn the bodysuit. She had an urge to excuse herself,

find a 'fresher, and take the undergarment off. The

cloth of the dress would feel so good against her bare

skin.

And what would Xizor's hand feel like against her

bare skin—?

She shook her head, trying to clear it. This was

crazy! She didn't even know him! But he was so, so—

so something.

"I—we—the Alliance, we feel that while Black Sun's

aims are not the same as ours, the Empire is our mutual

enemy."

"Yes, war does make strange bedfellows, doesn't

it?" He smiled.

Bedfellows . . .

"Here, let me warm your tea," he said.

"No, it's fine . . ."

But he was already up. He bent, lifted her hand with

one of his, took the cup from her.

His touch was electric; it sent a charge through her

as if she had grabbed a live capacitor node. She gasped.

Again, he seemed to take no notice of what she said.

Time seemed mired in thick mud. Xizor moved away

so slowly; sounds seemed muted; Leia felt the heat in

her growing. Something was wrong here. She felt, well,

she felt too good. As if being here were the best thing in

the universe. Well. Almost the best thing. Xizor needed

to forget about that tea and come back; then the best

thing would start . . .

Leia! What is the matter with you?

Trouble, sister. Big trouble. You'd better leave. Fast.

But leaving was the last thing she felt like doing.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 259

In hyperspace, Vader considered his next move. He

had arrived too late to collect Luke, but he had waved

the Imperial flag and blown up a small spaceport.

Whether or not the port had anything to do with the

Rebels didn't matter, only that they thought be thought

it did, and thus reasoned that the computer they had

stolen was important to the Empire.

Half his mission had been accomplished, though to

his mind it was the lesser half.

He had no evidence against Xizor, only speculation

and rumor. Thirdhand knowledge from a soon-to-beexecuted

bounty hunter would hardly be enough to indict

one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy. He

was convinced, but the Emperor would not be so easily

swayed. He needed more before he could move against

the Dark Prince.

Well. If there was more to be had, he would have it.

Now that he knew what he was looking for.

Xizor leaned over and kissed Leia. Lightly at first, a

mere touch of his lips on hers.

Delicious. Amazing. She drank him in, enraptured

by his touch.

He pressed harder.

Leia found herself responding to the kiss. Returning

it . . .

She broke away. "No. This isn't right," she said. But

she kept one hand on his shoulder. It was hard, powerful,

that shoulder, warm under her fingers. No. This

was wrong.

"I came . . . to talk about . . . Luke Skywalker!"

"In due course. We have more important things to

do first."

He leaned in and kissed her again. She felt the fire in

him.

Leia put both her arms around Xizor, returned his

260 STAR WARS

fire with her own. Would this be so bad? To let him

continue? To save Luke?

Xizor moved his mouth from hers and put his lips

on her neck, slid down her shoulder. The dress's strap

fell off on that side.

Not just to save Luke. To enjoy this to the fullest,

did she want to do that?

She did not. No.

But she did want it, at the same time.

His hands moved on her. Oh, yes . . .

28

Xizor pressed his lips against Leia's bare shoulder and

felt her shudder with pleasure. He had her now. She

was his—if not in mind and spirit, then certainly her

body belonged to him. He was a little disappointed in

how easy it had been. Ah, well.

He reached for the closure of her dress . . .

There came a pounding at the door.

What—? Who dared?

Leia jumped, pulled away from him, straightened

her rumpled dress. She was breathing fast, and her face

was red.

Somebody started braying outside. The pounding increased.

That blasted Wookiee! Why was he here? How had

Howzmin allowed him to get here?

Flustered, Leia said, "I—I'd better see what he

wants."

"Stay. I'll get rid of him." Xizor started to rise.

"N-No, I'll do it."

262 STAR WARS

Xizor smiled. Felt her want him. "As you wish."

He watched her get to her feet. She swayed a little as

she walked to the door. This was only a temporary

setback. She would shoo the Wookiee away and return

to him. Once he put a woman under his spell she belonged

to him forever.

Leia touched the door controls—Xizor had locked

them—and the door slid wide.

The Wookiee gargled at her. Xizor's command of

the tongue was imperfect, but he managed to catch the

gist of what the tall, furry one said. He wanted Leia to

come with him, now.

"I'm in the middle of—of a, a . . . delicate discussion

here," she said. "Can't it wait?"

Xizor smiled.

The Wookiee ranted some more. Maybe he was

smarter than he looked; he knew something was going

on that threatened her, if not precisely what. A human

standing in the doorway would know by looking at

Leia, at least a human with any brains.

Leia turned and glanced at Xizor. "He seems upset,"

she said. "Maybe I better go and see what he wants?"

Now that he had her under his control, Xizor could

do as he wished with her. He toyed with the idea of

commanding her to shut the door and to remove her

clothes before she returned to the couch. But—no. Such

was his belief in his power that he merely shrugged.

"As you like. I'll be here." He made a deliberate pause.

"For a little while longer." Let her think that he might

be gone if she did not hurry. A small cruelty but a demonstration

of his authority. I might be gone, do you

want to risk that?

"I—I will—" She stopped. Shook her head as if trying

to shake off his influence.

You don't rid yourself of my biological magic that

easily, little one.

He waved her away, unworried.

She'd be back.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 263

In the hall outside Xizor's sanctum, Leia glared at

Chewie, who glared right back at her. "This had better

be good!"

Howzmin lay on the floor in a heap. Unconscious or

dead, she couldn't tell which. Chewie grabbed her by

the arm and hustled her down the hallway.

"Let go of me, you overgrown stuffed toy!"

Chewie paid her no mind.

When they came to a small alcove a short distance

away, Chewie shoved Leia into it and stepped in behind

her.

"You are going to be sorry, you—"

He pressed one hairy hand over her mouth, pointed

up at the ceiling with his other hand.

Leia looked. Saw a small parabolic microphone inset

into the ceiling.

"Somebody is listening?" she whispered.

He nodded.

"Are we being watched, too?"

Chewie shook his head. That was why he'd brought

her here, she realized. It must be a blind spot. He knew

what she and Xizor had been doing in there; he'd

sensed it somehow. He was protecting her. And protecting

Han.

The desire she'd felt evaporated. Shame flooded into

her.

How could she have let that go on? She loved Han.

She had only just met Xizor; nothing like that had ever

happened to her before. Not only was it wrong, it

wasn't natural. That was not like her; she would never

behave that way, certainly not with a stranger!

Was he using some kind of drug—in her tea, maybe?

That would explain a lot. Could it be that, for whatever

reason, he wanted to seduce her?

That would be terrible. And at the same time, it

made her feel better. At least there would be a real ex-

264 STAR WARS

cuse for the sensations that had taken her—an excuse

for how she'd behaved. She had come very close to disaster.

And Luke—?

Of a moment, the knowledge came clear to her: It

wasn't Vader who wanted him dead—

"I think maybe we'd better consider an alternate

plan," she said. "Chewie, here's what you should

do . . ."

By the time the Executor arrived in the system, Vader

was almost itching to be back. Patience had never

been his strongest virtue, and he was looking forward

to assembling his case against Xizor.

As the giant ship lanced its way toward the planet,

Vader thought about what he was going to do. He debated

with himself about mentioning anything to the

Emperor yet. On the one hand, since Xizor was currently

high in Imperial esteem, any disparaging comments

might be brushed off as jealousy, even though

the Emperor should know better. On the other hand, if

he didn't say anything, he might be irritated at Vader

later for his silence. The Emperor wanted to know everything

about everybody—except when he didn't want

to hear it.

As Vader expected, the Emperor was not convinced.

"You disappoint me, Lord Vader. I sense that your

judgment is shaded by something of a . . . personal

grudge here."

"No, my master. I am merely concerned about the

criminal's treachery. If he is in fact trying to kill

Skywalker—"

The Emperor cut him off: "Really, Lord Vader, I

would certainly need more evidence than a rumor from

some bounty hunter to move against so valuable an

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 265

ally. Did he not give us that Rebel base? Has he not put

his vast shipping fleet at our disposal?"

"I have not forgotten these things," Vader said. He

tried to keep his voice steady and even. "But I have also

not forgotten my promise to bring Skywalker to the

dark side. Skywalker turned would be much more important

to the Empire than Xizor."

"Indeed he would—if you can turn him."

"I can, my master. But not if he is slain before I can

get to him."

"Young Skywalker has managed to stay alive this

long. If he is as strong in the Force as we assume he is,

he will continue to do so until you find him, don't you

think? And if he is not as strong as we believe, then we

have no use for him anyway."

Vader ground his teeth. He had thought much the

same himself when last he met Luke. If he could be

destroyed easily, then he had no real value to the dark

side. Still, he did not like having this used in an argument

against him.

None of this was unexpected, but it was nonetheless

a great irritant. That the Emperor would put so much

faith in the Dark Prince, as sly and immoral a being as

existed anywhere, was disturbing in the utmost.

"Since it seems so important to you, I give you leave

to search for Skywalker. For a short while, for there are

other tasks I would have you perform. Is this satisfactory?"

Not really, but what was there to be done? "Yes, my

master."

He did want to find his son, but he also had to build

a case against Xizor. Either of these would command

much of his attention alone. Both of them at the same

time would be difficult.

But he was Dark Lord of the Sith and one with the

dark side. He would manage.

266 STAR WARS

Leia took a deep breath, blew half of it out, and

opened the door to Xizor's chamber.

The head of Black Sun sat on the couch where she'd

left him, the glass in his hand. He smiled. "I was beginning

to worry about you."

She smiled, hoped it didn't look too false. She could

still feel the charisma he exuded, but now she could

resist it. She couldn't say how, exactly, but she had

some kind of strength she hadn't noticed before.

Maybe it was that her anger had become a shield upon

which his attraction splashed and was repelled. Maybe

the drug had worn off. It didn't matter why, as long as

it worked.

Now she had to keep Xizor busy long enough to

give Chewie a chance to escape, or at least to get a

good start on it.

Chewie hadn't liked the idea, but she'd convinced

him he could serve her better if he could get away from

here and bring help.

"Come back and sit here next to me," Xizor said. It

was not a request but an order. He didn't seem at all

curious as to why Chewie had been so anxious to see

her.

Leia moved instead toward the bar. "Let me make

myself some tea first," she said. "I seem to have gotten

rather warm and thirsty."

She saw the mixture of emotions flit quickly across

his features, but only because she was looking carefully.

He was angry that she didn't instantly obey him

—his brow furrowed in the slightest of frowns—but he

was also pleased that she was disturbed. Or perhaps

excited? A quick flex of his lips into a smile that lasted

but a second gave her this part.

She took her time making the tea. When she was

done, she sipped at it but made no move to approach

him.

"Come here," he said. Definitely a command.

Leia put the tea down and started for him.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 267

There came the smile again. He thought he had her

under his control.

"You said you were warm. Why don't you . . . remove

your clothes and get more comfortable?"

She moved slowly. "I've gotten a little cooler," she

said.

"Take them off anyway." Now there was a core of

durasteel under his words. "It would please me. You

want to please me, don't you?"

No, what I really want to do is give Chewie another

few minutes.

She stopped. Lifted one foot and removed her slipper.

Smiled at Xizor and tossed the slipper aside. Put

her bare foot down and lifted the opposite foot. Tugged

the second slipper off and dropped it.

Now he smiled again. Sipped at his drink. It was,

green, whatever it was.

She reached up and touched the fastener of the

dress. Wiggled it, twisted it, frowned as she worked it.

"What are you doing?"

"It's stuck," she said.

He leaned forward. "Come here. I'll do it."

"Wait. There it is." She unsnapped the fastener. She

was fully dressed in a bodysuit; removing the seethrough

dress wouldn't reveal any more of her, but it

would buy a little more time.

He leaned back on the couch.

She delayed the moves as much as she could before

she dropped the green dress to the floor around her

ankles. Thus far, all he'd gotten a look at that he

hadn't seen before were her feet.

"Now the rest of it," he said. He waved the glass.

She hoped Chewie had had enough time, because

this was as far as she was going to go with this game.

"I don't think so," she said.

He put the glass down and came to his feet.

"What?"

268 STAR WARS

"It isn't proper to remove one's clothes in front of a

stranger," she said.

He moved toward her. Grabbed her shoulders and

shook her. This close to him, she felt the allure wash

over her. It was something from within him, some kind

of attractant he produced. It was much stronger, but

now that she knew what it was, she could resist it. Her

body wanted one thing, but she was a civilized woman

and her mind was what controlled her, not her hormones.

He bent to kiss her.

She slammed her knee up between his legs, hard.

He groaned and shoved her away, stumbled back a step.

Leia stood there, watching him. Smiled sweetly.

Don't like that, do you?

When he could straighten up, he did so. His face

was cold, his expression neutral. If he felt any pain, it

no longer showed, and if he was angry, that was not

evident, either. The passion he'd had was gone or at

least well hidden now.

He seemed to have changed color, too, now that she

noticed. He looked paler, cooler, an ashen green.

"So. You resist me."

"You got that right," she said.

He nodded. "It was something the Wookiee said."

Not a question.

She smiled. "Sometimes Wookiees are very smart.

And always very loyal."

He shook his head. "Ah. Here is the drawback to

bright and strong women: Sometimes they are bright

and strong when you least want them to be." He

bowed. "I am pleased that you are a worthy adversary."

He finished the bow. "Guri."

A panel slid aside in the wall behind him, and the

HRD stepped into the room.

Leia gave her a military nod.

"It seems you were right," Xizor said to Guri. "Take

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 269

her to her room and lock her in." To Leia he said, "You

and I will continue this discussion later. Sooner or

later, I believe you'll find that I am not such bad company."

"Don't bet on it," she said.

Guri moved to where she stood, took Leia's arm.

Her hand was soft, but her grip was like a steel clamp.

Leia hoped Chewie had gotten enough of a head

start.

29

After Guri had taken Leia away, Xizor sipped at another

glass of green champagne. Perhaps it would help

ease the pain in his groin.

After a time, he called his chief of security.

"Did the Wookiee escape?"

"Yes, Highness."

"You did not allow him to think it was too easy?"

"He put five of our troops down, my prince. We

singed him with a blaster beam as he ran down a hall.

He won't think it was easy."

"Good."

Xizor broke the link and smiled into the green, bubbly

liquid. His surveillance on the Wookiee had reported

the escape attempt immediately. Before Leia had

returned to him, Xizor had already put his alternate

plan into effect. He had intended to let the Wookiee go

all along, albeit not quite this soon. Well. No matter.

The Wookiee would surely contact Skywalker, and the

boy would come running to try to rescue the princess.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 271

Xizor's agents would probably collect Skywalker before

he got within hours of the castle.

So easy. The hot ones were so predictable.

A priority offworld message announced itself on his

private channel. He didn't feel like talking to anybody

just at the moment, but only a few people had access to

the direct link, and if one of them was calling, it was

likely something he'd best not ignore.

The connection was vox only, no image of the

speaker. Understandable, considering the position some

of his agents sometimes found themselves in regarding

their security. He himself did not like to transmit his

image. A personal quirk. You could scramble the transmission,

of course, but in the field, paranoia was high.

Many operatives reasoned that if a shielded pipeline

was broken into and the com somehow unscrambled,

better it should not have pictures attached to the

speaker.

His computer had verified the caller from his voice

patterns, else it would not have been put through.

"Yes?"

"My prince, there is news of Skywalker."

"And it is . . . ?"

"He has allegedly been captured by a group of

bounty hunters. They would not say where they are

precisely, but we have determined that they are on

Kothlis. We expect to have that information updated

momentarily. There is a problem, however."

"I see. And this problem is . . . ?"

"They say there is another bidder for their prisoner.

One whose offer tops ours and who has . . . Imperial

connections."

Hmm. Vader had just gone to that area. Ostensibly

it was to give credence to the computer theft, but consider:

Who in the galaxy wanted Skywalker as much as

Xizor himself did? Vader, of course. Then again, Vader

was already back here onplanet, had gone to see the

Emperor, and there were no indications he had brought

272 STAR WARS

Skywalker back with him. Perhaps the information had

reached him too late for him to make proper use of it.

Or not reached him at all.

Well. This ploy with the princess might not be necessary

at all.

"Tell them we'll double whatever the other side has

to offer."

"Highness, if we're bidding against the Empire, we

can't match them."

"I know that. It doesn't matter since we aren't ever

going to have to pay it. As soon as we find out precisely

where they are holding him, we'll scramble a jade ops

team and collect him for free. We don't need him

breathing, only his body."

"Very well, Highness—wait. Your pardon; I'm getting

a call from one of our operatives regarding this; it

may be the location we need . . ."

Xizor gave the agent leave to answer the call. He sat

and waited. Meditated on the ruthlessness of entropy.

On the amount of time he had spent waiting for somebody

to get back to him. Months, probably, maybe

more. Of course, that happened a lot less now than

once it had . . .

When his agent came back online, his voice was

shaky and he had difficulty speaking without swallowing

frequently.

"M-My prince, there has been a . . . complication,"

Fear lurked in the man's words like a desert

scavenger circling a dying animal.

"A complication," Xizor repeated.

"It—It seems that Skywalker has escaped custody.

And Darth Vader is now personally involved; he was

seen near the site of the escape within hours of the

event."

As the bearer of what he thought very bad news, the

agent feared for his life. People had been killed for less

when offering unhappy tiding to their princes, and the

man knew it, knew his employer had done it himself.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 273

Had doubtless heard the tale of the traitor Green by

now, too.

Xizor laughed.

"M-My prince?"

Finally. Some good news. Vader had just missed

Skywalker. The boy was free, and as long as Leia was

safely installed here, sooner or later Skywalker would

show up on Xizor's doorstep. The Wookiee would see

to that.

"Do not concern yourself with Skywalker's escape,"

the Dark Prince said. "That situation is under control."

Someday, perhaps, he would allow this story to become

public—once he was in control of the galaxy.

Ah, people would say, how devious the Dark Prince

is. Beware!

Beware, indeed.

Leia tried the door to her room, but of course it was

locked. She looked around. It didn't appear as if the

last occupant had forgotten and left a spare blaster in

the bedside table; there were no tools with which to

open the door, no secret escape hatches she could find.

She also couldn't spot the holocam, but she was sure

the room was wired for surveillance, given what she

now knew. If she had to stay here long enough to undress,

she would do it in the dark and hope they didn't

have a light-gathering scope on the lens. Although it

was probably a little late for modesty.

She sighed. She hoped Chewie had gotten away. Not

that it would do her much good, but at least if he'd

made it, he could fill Luke and Lando in, so they'd

know to get Luke as far away from Black Sun as possible.

Luke would want to come and rescue her, but

Lando was a realist; he should be able to talk Luke out

of it. They needed to be free, to rescue Han. That was

the important thing.

274 STAR WA R S

Forgive me, Han, for what I almost did. It was a

drug, I know, but I'm sorry I was so weak.

When she saw him again—well, if she saw him again

—maybe she would tell him about it. Then again,

maybe not. No point in upsetting him, right?

The idea of seeing Han again made her feel momentarily

better, but she had to admit that her chances

didn't seem particularly good just now.

She sat on the bed and considered her options. At

the moment, she didn't seem to have an awful lot of

them.

She leaned back, stretched out. One of the things

she'd learned while working with the Alliance's military

personnel was: When in doubt, take a nap. Never

knew when you would get the chance again.

Not that she thought she'd be able to sleep, given all

that was going on. She'd just lie here and try to relax

for a few moments.

She surprised herself by dropping into a deep sleep

almost immediately.

Lando didn't want to stop, but Luke insisted.

"Look, I trust the Force and it's telling me Leia is in

danger. So let's just put in a call and check, okay?"

"Can't it wait until we get to Tatooine?"

"No."

Lando sighed. "All right. But you remember I did

this. You owe me one."

He dropped the falcon out of hyperspace.

"How do we call?" Luke asked.

Lando smiled. "I've got a little surprise for you. Han

isn't the only one who can rig the Falcon."

"What do you mean?"

Lando put the ship on automatic control and led

Luke to the aft cargo hold. He pointed at a device

mounted on one wall.

"That looks like a comm unit."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 275

"Bright boy. Go ahead, make your call."

Luke punched in the relay codes that Lando gave

him while the gambler kept fiddling with the override

to make sure the communication wasn't tapped.

Dash didn't answer, but there was a recorded computer

response.

Luke turned to Lando. "Do we have the 'play message'

code?"

"Yes." Lando gave it to him.

The image that ghosted into being surprised them. A

Wookiee with a bad haircut. Luke didn't recognize him

at first. Until he started talking. Yelling was more like

it.

Chewie!

"What?" Lando said.

"What is it?"

"Oh, no!"

"Lando!"

Lando translated. "Leia is being held on Coruscant

by Black Sun. They tried to kill Chewie but he escaped

—the princess made him go, it wasn't his idea—"

Abruptly the transmission ended.

"What happened?"

"I dunno, my codes just went blank. Somebody

must have reported the override's theft." He pulled the

override from the comm unit's slot and tossed the electronic

card on the floor.

"Let's go," Luke said.

"To Tatooine, right?"

"Wrong."

"Somehow I knew you were gonna say that. We

can't go to Coruscant! It's too dangerous."

"You can stay here if you want."

"Luke . . . "

"Leia needs my help. I'm going."

Lando stared at the ceiling for a moment, then

shook his head. "Why me? Why do these things always

happen to me?"

276 STAR WARS

lime and space shivered, and the Millennium Falcon

dropped out of hyper- and into realspace.

Luke glanced at the control screens. "We're still a

pretty long way off," he said. "It'll take days to get

there."

"Yeah, well, there's a reason for that," Lando said.

"We're not talking about some backrocket world with

two cities and a small town on it. Coruscant is one big

building complex that almost covers the entire planet.

The space around it is filled with skyhooks, wheelworlds,

power sats, and a whole river of commercial

and private traffic, not to mention a great big chunk of

the Imperial Navy. It's like a huge canopy, and the

holes in it are real tiny. We aren't going to sail merrily

past all that in this ship. My guess is that the Falcon is

plastered on computer wanted screens all over the galaxy

and, sure as lizards like sunshine, on every security

scanner here in the center of the Empire. I don't think a

swiped security code is gonna get us past. We won't do

Leia any good locked in an Imperial prison."

"I get your point."

"So we work our way in slow and try to figure out

something. Got any bright ideas?"

Luke thought about it. "Well, actually, yes."

Lando blinked. "Yeah? Let's hear it."

Luke told him.

"I don't know about this," Lando said.

"Hey, Han did it—and on a Star Destroyer and not

a droid-operated robotic freighter, too." Luke paused a

second. Then said, "If you want, I'll take over."

Lando raised his eyebrows. "Listen, I taught Han

that trick."

Luke smiled.

In theory, it ought to work. They were near the

freighter lanes leading to and from Coruscant. Here

was where the big vessels lumbered along, bulk freight-

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 277

ers or container ships, in restricted channels. To be

there, you had to be flying something that hauled a

couple hundred metric tons or more. While the law

said there had to be somebody other than droids on

board one of the big ships, that law was usually ignored

and seldom enforced, especially when it was

somebody delivering goods for the Empire. A droid

programmed to ferry ships in and out of gravity wells

wasn't apt to be paying a lot of attention to what went

on around it once it got into the lanes—the system's

vack-traffic-control took care of all that, so sneaking

up to the belly or backside of a big freighter ought to

be as easy as snapping your fingers. After that, you just

had to stay in its shadow all the way down until you

were off the grid and into planetary Doppler. The Falcon

had jammers that should take care of that without

any problems—a bright ten-year-old could build a decent

jammer from an old microwave cooker and a couple

of detuned repulsor grids.

The trick was to match the speed and course of the

bigger vessel so you'd stay in exactly the same place

relative to it. A good pilot should be able to manage it,

but if he zigged when he should zag, well, that might

mean getting vaporized by an Imperial picket ship or a

planetary defense battery. But it was doable if you had

the nerve and the skill. It ought to work—in theory.

Yes, the Empire had rings of ships around the planet,

but they were designed to stop an attacking force.

Space was too big for them to be able to see everything,

and what was a single ship going to be able to do to a

whole planet, especially if—as the Alliance did—your

enemy refused to attack and destroy civilian targets

anyway?

"Ready?" Lando said.

"Ready," Luke said.

"We're ready, too," Threepio said. "If anyone

cares."

Artoo whistled.

278 STAR WA R S

Lando grinned. "Hang on. Here we go."

The freighter moving in their general direction was a

big one, actually a modified tug towing a series of

closely linked cylindrical cargo containers, arranged in

a long ring. Each of these containers was as big as the

Falcon, and each was hung with orbital braking rockets.

It was a bit small for a supertransport, but the

ship's cargo was probably pushing eight or nine hundred

m-tons, not exactly tiny. The freighter put out a

bounce signal identifying it as the ISO—Independent

Ship Owners'—vessel Tuk Prevoz, registered on Imperial

Center and flying under contract to Xizor Transportation

Systems.

Lando brought the Falcon around in a long, shallow

arc, almost a hemispherical 180, first heading away

from the freighter, then behind and under its belly.

"This ought to be right in their sensor shadow," he

said.

Luke nodded. Big ships had plenty of blind spots,

especially those towing large cargoes. If they could stay

in the sensor shadow as they approached, the crew

couldn't spot them. Once they were safely next to one

of the cargo containers, nobody in the ship would be

able to visually tag them, and, unless they passed

within spitting distance of one of the picket line ships,

no Imperial eyes would be able to make them out, either.

Luke looked at the scopes. Lando was dead on his

flight plan. A degree or two either way and the crew on

the freighter might get a blip on their scopes, but so far,

so good.

The cargo containers loomed bigger. Problem with

visual flying out here in the outvack was perspective;

movement became pretty subjective. Relatively speaking,

either they were getting closer or the freighter was

dropping down upon them, and when you got right

down to it, it didn't matter—as long as they stayed on

the line inside the sensor shadow.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 279

Lando moved his hands precisely, like a

microsurgeon splicing nerves. The Falcon slowed,

slowed . . . stopped.

The surface of the nearest cargo pod was three meters

away.

"Good job," Luke said. Despite his giving Lando a

hard time, he was a good pilot.

"Yeah, but that's the easy part. Now we got to stay

with this boomer until we get into atmosphere and he

drops his cargo into a spiral-in orbit. I'm shutting

down the transponder and nonessential systems. We

don't want anybody seeing our lights or picking up active

sensors. From here on in, it's seat-of-the-pants."

"You thought about what we're going to do once we

land?"

Lando snorted. "Let's worry about landing first,

how about? I know some people, I have a few contacts.

We'll be okay."

Luke nodded. He hoped Lando was right.

Of course, they might stray off course on the way to

the planet and get roasted by a coherent light battery

and he wouldn't have to worry about it. Not that that

made him feel any better.

He reached out, tried to find Leia, using the Force.

Pushed to the limit of his abilities . . .

Nothing. If she was there, he was too far away to

touch her.

Well. They'd be closer soon. If they survived, he

would try again.

If they survived.

Sitting naked in his chamber and working on his

healing meditation, Darth Vader frowned. There was a

disturbance in the Force. He reached for it with the

power of the dark side . . .

He could not connect with it, whatever it was.

Abruptly the sensation of a ripple passed.

280 STAR WA R S

The dark side still had surprises for him. Like a fire,

it could warm or burn, and great care must be taken

not to trip and fall into it. He had seen what extensive

use had done to the Emperor; it had eaten away at him

physically. But that would not happen to Vader, for he

intended to master the dark side. He was well on the

way. It would be only a matter of how long, of when,

not if. And when he finally snared Luke, the process

would go faster. Two powerful magnets would attract

more of the dark energy than one. Together they would

manipulate the Force quicker than either could alone.

So strong, the boy. Who could have known? Luke

Skywalker—his son—might well be the most powerful

man in the galaxy.

He allowed himself a smile, even though the expression

stretched scar tissue and was painful. He could

withstand pain.

He was the Dark Lord of the Sith, and he could

withstand anything.

30

"I really don't think this is a good idea, Master Luke. I

believe it would be much better if Artoo and I went

with you and Master Lando."

Artoo cheeped his agreement.

"Look, you'll be fine here on the ship," Luke said.

"We need you here in case we need help. Besides, it'll

be a lot more dangerous out there than in here."

"Ah. Well, in that case, perhaps we should stay

here."

Artoo cheeped.

"No, you heard Master Luke, he needs us on the

ship in case anything goes wrong."

"Wrong, what could possibly go wrong?" Lando

said. "Just because we've got huge rewards posted everywhere

in the galaxy for us, dead or alive, and we've

plunked ourselves down smack in the black and evil

heart of the Empire?"

Luke shook his head. "Come on. Where would be

282 STAR WARS

the last place you'd look for us if you were an Imperial

operative or a bounty hunter?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. They'd figure nobody

would be that stupid. Lucky for us they don't know we

are that stupid."

Luke shook his head. All this banter was an attempt

to make light of the situation. The truth was, this was

dangerous, no two ways about it. To Threepio, he said

in a more serious voice, "Look, I'll be honest. There's a

good chance we won't make it back. If that happens,

don't call the Alliance for help. There's no point in putting

any part of the fleet in jeopardy."

Threepio said, "I understand."

Artoo whistled and cheeped rapidly. The tone was

upset.

Luke looked at the little droid. He squatted down

and laid one hand on his dome. "Just stand by the

comm, okay? We'll call you if we need you. If we get in

trouble, you can try to come and get us. Threepio has

the hands and feet, you have the astronavigational

skills. I'm sure the two of you working together can fly

the Falcon in an emergency."

"There's a happy thought," Lando said. "Han knew

that, it would thaw him out faster than a laser torch."

Lando was still trying to keep things cheery, but Luke

imagined the gambler had a cold feeling in the pit of his

stomach, too. This was not going to be a piece of cake.

Artoo did not seem to think very much of the idea of

flying the Falcon, either.

"Don't be rude," Threepio said. "I wasn't always a

protocol droid, you know. I've programmed converters,

and I once ran a shovel loader for an entire standard

month. I've watched Master Han and Master

Lando and Chewbacca often enough. I daresay I can

pilot this ship better than you can!"

Artoo made more rude noises.

"Oh, really? Well, at least I don't look like an overgrown

garbage can!"

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 283

"Come on, Luke," Lando said. "If we're going to

go, we need to get moving. We can get ourselves some

disguises, and if we hurry, we can be underground before

daylight. These two will argue all night."

"Okay." Luke rose from his squat. "See you in a

little while."

"Do be careful, Master Luke."

Artoo seconded that.

Luke hoped he didn't look as grave as he felt. "We

will."

Lando already had his disguise in place. His head

was wrapped in a beggar's scarf and cowl, his normal

clothes hidden under a ragged robe. Luke donned similar

garb and covered the lower part of his face as well.

Outside the huge building, Luke and Lando worked

their way through a relatively sparsely populated area.

There weren't many spots completely void of occupants,

but this area was in the southern hemisphere not

far from the pole—and it was cold. There were apparently

more comfortable places to live and work. Lando

had a "business associate" who owed him a favor, and

he paid it by allowing them to hide the Millennium

Falcon in a warehouse that was half full of what

looked like dried plankton and smelled a lot like a

Tatooine landfill in the heat of summer.

"Just how many people owe you favors?"

Lando flashed his bright smile. "A whole lot of them

who should never gamble. Lucky for me they do."

"So now what?"

"We catch a ride into the Southern Underground.

Keep that lightsaber out of sight but close to hand—

this is not the kind of place you want to take your

granny for tea, if you know what I mean."

"Bad as Mos Eisley?"

"Parts of it are worse."

"Great. Why are we going to such a delightful part

of this chrome-plated planet, anyhow?"

Lando led them down a narrow, twisting alley. Luke

284 STAR WARS

saw that he kept his hand on his blaster as they moved.

The air was frigid; it clawed at the jacket Luke wore,

nipped at his ears, and turned their breaths to crisp,

white fog as they moved.

Lando paused at the end of the alley, peeped out,

then continued to the next confined passageway. "Well,

it's like this. You ever hear of the celebrated shipjacker

Evet Scy'rrep?"

"Sure, I used to watch Galactic Bandits on the

holoproj as a kid. They based a whole series on him.

He knocked off something like fifteen starliners, got

away with millions of credits and jewels. But they

caught him eventually."

"That's right. At his trial, somebody asked him why

he robbed luxury cruisers. And Scy'rrep said, 'Because

that's where the credits are.' "

Luke smiled and shook his head.

Lando said, "We're going into a cesspool of a place

because that's where my contacts are."

"Lead on. I hope it'll be warmer than here."

Aizor was in his bath, a sunken tub carved from

dense black garden stone and large enough to seat ten

comfortably. He spent a lot of time bathing, part of his

species' heritage. The Falleen were born of the water,

and it was always nice to return to it. Vapor rose from

the hot water, bringing with it the scent of the

eukamint oil that swirled in the tub. Blowers sent

soothing waves and bubbles circulating through the liquid.

Here was a place where he allowed himself to relax

totally. There was no holoproj, no comlink, no

admittance, save for himself and any guests he wished

to entertain. And Guri, of course. He would sometimes

have music piped in, when the mood struck him, but

otherwise, he wanted nothing to intrude on his peace

while he soaked away the day's tensions.

He leaned back against the warmed stone and

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 285

sipped a mild after-dinner drink, a smoky blend of

wormwood and spice extract, just potent enough to

add an inner glow to the water's warmth around him.

Life always looked better from in here. Things were

almost perfect.

He'd invited Leia to join him but she had declined to

do so.

Things were . . . almost perfect.

Guri strode into the bathroom and stopped next to

the tub.

"You know I hate to be disturbed here," he said.

Which was, he realized even as he spoke, a pointless

thing to say. Guri would not have bothered him if

whatever she wanted had been something that could

wait.

She produced a small com. "The Emperor," she

said.

Xizor sat up and grabbed the comlink. "My master,"

he said.

"I shall be leaving the planet shortly," the Emperor

said. "To inspect portions of a certain . . . construction

project of which you are aware. When I return, we

must get together. I have a few things I would like to

discuss with you."

"Of course, my master."

"Tales have reached me concerning one of the

Rebels, Luke Skywalker. It seems you have an interest

in him?"

"Skywalker? I have heard the name. I cannot say I

have an interest in him."

"We shall speak of this on my return."

The conversation ended, the Emperor disconnected.

He seldom bothered with opening or closing salutations.

Xizor put the small comlink cylinder on the edge of

the tub and allowed himself to sink deeper into the

tranquilizing water. Well. It was to be expected that the

Emperor would find out about his plans sooner or

286 STAR WARS

later. It affected nothing, as long as Xizor remained

cautious. Rumors were not proof.

Guri bent, picked up the comlink, and left.

As he watched her walk away, he briefly considered

telling her to disrobe and join him in the water. He had

made her do that a few times when he wanted company

he could trust absolutely, and she had demonstrated

to his satisfaction that she could pass for a

woman in virtually every way during those times . . .

But—no. He was saving his energies for Leia. She

would learn to see him in a better light, he knew. He

could wait. Patience was one of the ultimate virtues.

He took a deep breath and sank beneath the water.

His lung capacity was great and he could stay under for

a long time, a throwback to his reptile heritage. The

water warmed his face, and he luxuriated in it.

Overall, life was very good.

It was warmer in the Underground, but it smelled at

least as bad as the warehouse where they'd left the Falcon.

At least it did to Luke. The various humans and

aliens they'd passed didn't seem to notice the stink. It

bothered Luke that in order for you to smell a thing,

tiny and invisible particles of it had to be inhaled and

sampled by your olfactory system. Whatever was causing

that awful rotting, fetid odor, he didn't like the idea

of microscopic bits of it going up his nose.

They were in a maglev train station not far below

the surface. The waiting platform was crowded, and

there were Imperial stormtroopers in armor and uniformed

officers circulating in the huge room.

"I think maybe it's time we got some better disguises,"

Lando said. "We wouldn't want some surveillance

cam taking note of us in these rags."

"What did you have in mind?"

A Squid Head brushed past them, in a hurry to get

somewhere. It had no regard for beggars.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 287

"I've been thinking about that. Ideally, we want to

look like somebody nobody'll pay any attention to."

"Stormtroopers?"

Lando nodded. "Yeah. Or maybe the Elite Stormtroopers

would be better. Their faces are covered, and

since they are so well regarded, nobody is apt to bother

them."

Luke looked around. "I see one about my size, over

there by the ticket droid."

"Yep, and there's one about my height and weight,

by the periodical dispenser. Maybe we should do our

duty to the Empire and report something strange going

on in one of the 'fresher booths, you think?"

"Just as any loyal citizen would," Luke said.

He and Lando grinned at each other.

Leia awoke, feeling groggy. There wasn't any way to

keep track of time that she could see. She had dozed for

a while; Xizor had called and asked her if she wanted

to take a bath with him—a bath! come on!—and she'd

fallen back asleep.

She got up and moved to the computer console.

"What time is it?"

The device told her.

My. She'd been asleep for almost six standard hours.

Quite a nap, that.

She was also hungry.

Even as she thought this, the door slid open and

Guri entered, carrying a large domed tray. She put the

tray on the computer table in front of Leia. "Food,"

she said. She turned and left.

Leia lifted the dome. A seven-course dinner had been

artfully arranged on a series of dishes. A salad, a couple

of different kinds of soypro patties, cooked vegetables,

fruit, bread, containers of drinks. It looked great and

smelled pretty good, too.

Leia picked up a piece of bread and tasted it. It was

288 STAR WA R S

warm, chewy, had a slightly sour flavor. Excellent.

Might as well eat. If Xizor wanted to kill her, he could

have done it by now; probably he didn't plan to poison

her. Like sleeping when you could, eating was one of

those things you had to do when it was available. And

if it tasted as great as this stuff did, well, that was a

bonus.

The Luke-size lieutenant frowned as he entered the

stall, Luke right behind him. "What are you talking

about, I don't see any—uh? What . . . ?"

This last was uttered as Luke used the Force to take

control of the man's thoughts. You'd think a crack

trooper in the service of the Empire would have a

stronger mind than this guy did. Then again, if he did,

he probably wouldn't be in the Imperial military, he'd

be working for the Alliance . . .

Luke ordered the man to strip, then to have a seat

and a nice long nap. He shucked his own clothes and

hurriedly dressed in the borrowed uniform. He kept the

blaster, tucked his lightsaber into his waistband under

the jacket, moved into the communal part of the refresher,

and examined himself in the mirror. Not bad.

Behind him, Lando emerged from a stall, dressed in

a similar uniform. Lando adjusted the belt with his new

sidearm and brushed lint from the right sleeve.

"Women love a man in a uniform," he said. He

lifted his helmet and slipped it on.

"Let's hope they don't see the man behind the armor,"

Luke said.

The two of them squared their shoulders, stuck their

chests out, and affected an Imperial swagger as they

exited the 'fresher.

Vader stood at the ramp leading to the Emperor's

personal shuttle, looking down at the shorter man.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 289

"I anticipate that I shall return in three weeks," the

Emperor told him. "I trust you can keep the planet

from falling apart while I am gone?"

"Yes, my master."

"I expect no less. Any news of Skywalker?"

"Not yet. We'll find him."

"Perhaps sooner than you expect."

Vader stared at the Emperor, who wore a half smile

that revealed his damaged teeth. Had he foreseen something?

The Emperor was still more attuned to the dark

side than Vader was. Had he gleaned some new information

about Luke?

If he had, he was not ready to reveal it, for he turned

and allowed himself to be escorted up the ramp by a

squad of the Imperial Royal Guard in their ceremonial

red robes and matching armor.

The tap of the Emperor's twisted walking stick on

the ramp was quite loud in the silence.

Of all the people in the galaxy, the Emperor trusted

Darth Vader most; at least that's what Vader liked to

believe. And as far as he was able to determine, the

length of that trust was no farther than an outstretched

arm could reach.

No matter. He was right about one thing: Sooner or

later Luke would surface. A light that bright could not

be hidden for long. By his nature the boy would have

to burn hot enough to be visible to one who had the

power and the knowledge of how to look for him.

Once a Jedi began to grow in the Force, the process

was not easily stopped. In Luke's case, Vader doubted

that it could be stopped.

They would meet again. A week, a month, a year—it

did not really matter. It would happen.

Meanwhile, he would keep a sharp eye on the actions

of an enemy all too close to home. Even now,

Vader's agents sought every scrap of information they

had not already found on the Underlord of Black Sun.

290 STAR WARS

That, too, would simply be a matter of time. Once you

knew the direction, the trip was made easier, and

sooner or later, Xizor would make an error. He would

stumble.

When he did, Vader would be waiting to catch him.

31

fell," Luke said, "this is a better neighborhood than

where we were before, but where exactly are we going?"

Lando pointed. "There."

"A plant shop?"

"Don't let it fool you. It's run by an old Ho'Din

name of Spero. He's got a lot of connections, some Imperial,

some Alliance, some criminal."

"Let me guess: He owes you a favor."

"Not exactly. But we've done some business in the

past and he doesn't mind making a few credits passing

along information."

They headed for the shop.

"We're getting a lot of dirty looks," Luke said.

"It's the uniforms. The Empire doesn't have many

friends down here. Most of the locals are probably on

the run, one step ahead of being arrested. They won't

bother us as long as we don't stick our noses in the

292 STAR WARS

wrong place. Don't want to bring Imperial heat and

light into their hideout."

Inside the shop there was no sign of the Ho'Din

owner. Except for Luke and Lando, the place was

empty.

"Nobody home," Luke said. "That's odd, isn't it?"

"Yeah, odd. I—"

Somebody said something behind them. Luke didn't

understand what it was, but he recognized the language:

Wookiee.

"Easy, friend," Lando said. "Nobody is going to

make any sudden moves." He lifted his hands away

from his body, told Luke to do the same.

The Wookiee speaker said something else.

Something about the voice . . .

"Turn around, nice and slow," Lando told Luke.

They turned.

Sure enough, there was a Wookiee standing there.

One with a bad haircut—

"Chewie!" Lando said.

Despite the helmets, Chewbacca recognized them at

the same instant and lowered the blaster pistol he held.

Lando smiled as he and Luke moved forward to embrace

Chewie.

"What happened? Why is your hair chopped off?"

Chewie tried to answer at the same time Lando fired

more questions, and Luke didn't get much of it. But he

was glad to see the Wookiee.

Finally Lando began to translate for Luke.

"The shop owner is tied up in back; in case anybody

spotted Chewie coming in, they wouldn't think the

Ho'Din was helping, right, right, and—slow down,

pal!"

Chewie kept talking a keening, harning noise.

"Okay, okay, Leia thinks it's Black Sun that wants

you dead, Luke, they're behind the assassination attempts,

not the Empire. Huh? Well, I don't know how,

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 293

there's just the three of us, how can we get inside the

place, that won't help her if we get caught, will it—?"

The dialogue ended abruptly as a blaster bolt lanced

through the shop's open door and shattered a flowerpot

hanging from the ceiling. Shards of the ceramic pattered

against Luke's back, and clumps of moist dirt and

humus fell around him. The junglelike smell inside the

shop increased.

"Hey!"

Outside the shop, four men with blasters loosed

more shots. They weren't wearing uniforms, whoever

they were.

The three inside the plant store dropped to the floor,

Chewie raised his blaster and blindly fired several

rounds back at the shooters.

"Who are those guys? Why are they shooting at

us?"

Lando said, "Who knows?" He pulled his borrowed

blaster and added to Chewie's return fire. It didn't look

as if they hit anybody, from the torrent of light that

came back at them.

"Is there another way out of here?" Luke asked.

Chewie growled a reply. Luke thought it meant'

"Yes."

"In the back!" Lando yelled.

He and Chewie cooked off several more shots, and

the three of them crawled toward the back of the shop.

They passed an old Ho'Din bound and gagged in a

corner.

"Sorry about this," Lando said to the Ho'Din.

"Send the Alliance a bill, they'll pay for it!"

Chewie reached the back exit and shoved the sliding

door open.

Another high-energy bolt zipped through the door at

chest height and burned a hole in an inner wall. Fortunately,

they were all still stretched out on the floor, and

the hole was well above their heads.

Lando cursed. "They've got us boxed!"

294 STAR WARS

Before they could think about what they were going

to do, somebody outside the back exit screamed. There

came the sound of several blaster discharges—but no

fresh beams poked into the shop.

"What the—?" Lando began.

Luke looked up from where he lay prone on the

floor, plant dirt ground into the chest and belly of his

stolen uniform, and saw a figure walking across an alley.

Well, not walking so much as . . . swaggering.

Luke recognized the man.

Dash Rendar! Oh, man. Here he was saving Luke

again. Luke hated this.

"Howdy, boys. Having a little trouble?" He spun his

blaster on his forefinger and blew across the end of the

barrel. It made a slight hooting noise.

Luke came up, saw Lando and Chewie do the same.

He started to speak, but Lando beat him to it.

"Rendar! What are you doing here?"

"Saving your butts, looks like. Seems to be my specialty.

Better come on, we can talk as we move. Follow

me."

Luke shook his head. He really didn't like this, but

there wasn't much he could say about it. Rendar was,

unfortunately, right.

In a conference room in his castle, Darth Vader

stared at the small man who stood in front of him.

"You are certain of this?"

"Yes, my lord, I am certain."

Vader felt a flash of triumph. It was not enough, not

by itself, but it went a long way toward the proof he

needed. "And you have the tape and documentation."

"Already in your files, Lord Vader." The little man

smiled.

"You have served me well. I will not forget this.

Continue your search."

The little man bowed and left.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 295

So. There existed a recording of a freelance agent

speaking to an Alliance crew chief, telling her she

would be made rich if she could but kill Luke

Skywalker.

Of course, no direct connection to Xizor had been

discovered, but Vader's agents would find it, did it exist.

The briber had talked to the crew chief, someone

had talked to him. Vader's agents would backwalk every

moment of the briber's life until they found out

who had sent him. And who had sent the being who

had sent him. And so on.

It was one more addition to the growing collection

of circumstantial evidence his agents had gathered and

were continuing to gather.

By itself a grain of sand was nothing, but with

enough grains, one could cover a city. It would not do

to tip his hand too early. As of now, he had enough

sand to begin. A bit more and he'd be able to bury

Xizor . . .

He must be removed, once and for all, and the day

was coming when it would happen.

Soon.

It would be soon.

Dash showed the way. Chewie took the point and led

them into a warren of twisted corridors and tunnels

that should lose any pursuers, given how fast Luke lost

his own bearings.

"So how did you get here again?" Lando asked

Dash.

"The usual way. Sneaked in under the belly of a

freighter in the sensor shadow. A trick I learned as a

boy at the Academy. A good pilot can do it in his sleep.

How about you?"

Lando's smile seemed a little sickly to Luke. He

shrugged. "Yeah, we did that, too. Piece of cake. Could

have done it on autopilot, it was so easy."

296 STAR WARS

"Yeah, but how did you manage to get here?" Luke

asked. He pointed at the ground.

"The Ho'Din's? Oh, everybody knows about Spero,

don't they, Lando?"

"I guess they do," Lando said. "Okay, that's how,

but—why?"

Dash sighed. "Something to prove, I guess. I felt

pretty bad after that disaster Luke and I went through.

Not something I'm used to, making mistakes. But I figure,

you crash your ship, you better climb into the next

one you see and get it back in the air. Too much time

goes by and you don't, you get afraid to fly. I screwed

up, and I'm still not over that, but you can only sit and

bubble in your own juices for so long. I work for

money, but I figure I owe the Empire a little something.

When Chewie called, I decided it was time to pay the

Empire back."

Luke nodded. "I understand how you feel."

"I have a few contacts here," Dash said.

"You must breakfast with me," Xizor said.

Leia looked at him. He had come to her room early,

but she had already dressed, and her costume was once

again that of the bounty hunter she'd affected earlier,

sans the helmet. She didn't want to wear the clothes

this scum provided.

"I'm not hungry," she said.

"I insist."

Even now that she knew he had tried to kill Luke,

she could feel the ghost of that attraction to him. Fortunately,

she was able to resist it. Anger made a good

antidote.

She decided to see if Xizor would reveal anything to

her. Said, "Will Chewbacca be joining us?"

"Alas, no. Your Wookiee friend has . . . taken his

leave of us."

"Got away and you can't find him, huh?"

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 297

Xizor gave her a thin smile totally without humor.

"You think he escaped on his own? Really, Leia. I allowed

him to break free."

"Come on." .

"I want Skywalker. Skywalker wants you. I have

you. Surely I don't need to draw you a diagram?"

She felt her belly twist and go cold. He was toying

with them. The whole reason to have her come here

was as bait for Luke. Oh, no.

She'd been hungry, but breakfast no longer held any

appeal. This creature was evil. Twisted, brilliant, and

evil.

Where are we going?" Luke asked.

Dash said, "I know a place we can hide. We can

figure out what to do from there."

Luke felt a sudden rush of something in him. A kind

of powerful knowledge that filled him, made him grin.

Of a second, he had become one with the Force—and

he hadn't even tried to do it. It just happened.

"What?" Lando said, noticing.

"We'll go to this place and make plans to rescue

Leia," Luke said.

He wasn't sure what he expected, maybe that Lando

or Dash or even Chewie would stare and shake his

head, ask who had abdicated and left Luke in charge,

something. But the other three exchanged glances,

looked back at Luke, and when they did, it was apparent

that something had changed.

"Right," Lando said. "Of course."

Chewie moaned his assent.

"What else?" Dash said.

It was simply the right thing to do, and it felt as

natural as breathing. That's what the Force was, he realized.

A natural phenomenon. He had struggled so

hard to attain it, and all that it required was that he

relax and allow it, instead of trying to create it. Simple.

298 STAR WARS

Too bad "simple" and "easy" didn't mean the same

things.

Never mind. Because a thing was difficult did not

mean it could not be done. With the Force, many

things were possible. He still had much to learn, more

than he'd ever thought before. He smiled. What was it

Master Yoda had said? Recognizing your ignorance is

the first step to wisdom?

Yes.

Guri stood in front of Xizor as he stripped from his

breakfast outfit and began to dress for his appointments.

She took no notice of his lack of clothing.

"Our agents say that a Corellian freighter answering

the description of the Millennium Falcon is hidden

somewhere in the Hasamadhi warehouse district near

the South Pole."

Xizor selected a tunic and matching pants from the

closet and examined them under the artificial sunlight.

"So? There are hundreds of Corellian freighters that

look like that, are there not?"

"Not hidden in the Hasamadhi warehouse district."

"Are you saying you think Skywalker and the gambler

have come here? Have eluded the Imperial picket

line and landed on the planet as bold as you please?"

"Any halfwit pilot who knows the freighter trick can

manage it. Our own smugglers do it all the time."

Xizor rejected the outfit. Tossed it onto the floor and

picked another suit of a darker hue and more conservative

cut.

"All right. Check it out. If it is Skywalker's ship,

have it watched. When he shows up, have our people

kill him. Circumspectly, of course."

She nodded. Turned and left.

Xizor considered his image in the mirror after he

dressed. Very impressive. He also considered what Guri

had just told him. He didn't really expect Skywalker to

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 299

arrive here so soon, but it was possible. If it was him,

so much the better.

Vader would be made to look a fool by having

Skywalker killed under his very nose.

And there was Leia, a problem he would eventually

unknot to his satisfaction. He had plenty of time to

play with her.

Things could hardly be moving along any smoother,

could they?

Business had to go on, however, and Xizor could

delegate only so much of it. Certain matters required

his attention. He finished his inspection and headed for

his receiving sanctum.

Once there, Xizor said, "All right. Who is my first

appointment?"

"General Sendo, Prince Xizor."

Well. The device had been repaired enough to get his

name right.

"Send him in."

General Sendo entered, bowed low.

"Do sit down, General," Xizor said.

"Your highness." The man obeyed.

There was the obligatory chitchat. Then Xizor gave

him a plastex envelope containing ten thousand in

worn, used credit notes, his monthly stipend for keeping

Black Sun abreast of things Black Sun might wish

to know about. Sendo was a do-nothing officer in the

Imperial Intelligence's Destab Branch who had never

seen battle but who could access all kinds of information

from where he worked keeping a chair warm.

Xizor put the envelope into the man's hand and

waved him away. There was no chance of any betrayal

here—every supplicant who arrived was scanned and

body-searched for recorders or holocams, and any who

happened to have such things upon his or her person

was summarily executed once he stepped inside. The

rules were simple, and everybody who entered Xizor's

castle had those rules made known to them each visit.

300 STAR WARS

And if the courier decided to try to tell what he saw

without proof, he would be wasting his time. Not to

mention that the high-ranking officers of the local police,

the local Army garrison, and Imperial Navy Intelligence

were also on retainer to Black Sun, and any such

reports concerning Xizor would find their way to his

desk within moments of being given. Such reporters

would simply . . . disappear, courtesy of Black Sun's

secret employees in the appropriate agency.

Mayli Weng arrived with a petition from the Exotic

Entertainers' Union asking for general pay increases

and better working conditions for the twenty thousand

workers who were members. Xizor was disposed to

grant her request: Happy entertainers made for happier

customers. Black Sun's percentage of the profits—donated

by the owners of the businesses in which the entertainers

were employed—would thus increase. Weng

always asked and never demanded. He'd never even

had to use his pheromones on her, she was so polite.

Of course, he could not actually make the change himself;

that would still be up to the Owners' League; but

they had yet to refuse a recommendation from Black

Sun, and he thought it unlikely they would do so now.

"I'll see what I can do," Xizor said.

Weng nodded, bowed, thanked him profusely for his

generosity, and left.

Bentu Pall Tarlen, the head of the Imperial Center

Construction Contracts Division, arrived to handdeliver

the latest bids on major building projects onplanet.

With these numbers, Xizor could have his

favored companies bid at lower prices and win the

jobs. Once construction was started there would, of

course, be cost overruns and delays to bring the monies

involved up to profitable levels. Black Sun's percentage

of such deals was not inconsiderable.

Through a dummy consortium that hired "consultants,"

Xizor arranged a transfer into Tarlen's account.

The man left, pleased.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 301

Wendell Wright-Sims dropped by to deliver ten kilos

of the highest-grade spice. Xizor didn't indulge in such

things himself, but sometimes he had guests who might

wish to do so, and he wished to be hospitable as a host.

He thanked Wright-Sims and sent him on his way.

There was no question of payment; the man did it to

maintain favor. It was cheap insurance for him, even

though that much spice was probably worth a couple

of million credits on the streets.

The head of Black Sun could have had these transactions

handled by others, but he preferred to see his

most valuable tools face-to-face now and then. It was

part of the job, necessary to remind those in the know

just who ran the system—and who would come looking

for them if they ran afoul of Black Sun.

The work might have been called tedious by some,

but Xizor had not been bored in years. There were too

many things to think about, too many angles to consider

in even the most humdrum situation. Boredom

was for those who lacked imagination. Xizor could sit

alone in a room for days staring at a wall and be as

busy mentally as most men working a complex and demanding

job.

The representative from the Jewelers' Guild arrived

. . . . .

me place Dash led them to was a pit, dirty, smelly,

and more of a cave than anything, bounded by raw

sewage and rat-eaten power cables. At least that was

what it looked like on the outside.

Once they moved past a guard and a gate as thick as

Chewie, the inside was a considerable improvement. It

might have been a second-rate hotel in any one of a

dozen ports Luke had visited. Except that the prices for

staying here would have bought them new houses on

Tatooine. Each.

302 STAR WARS

Or so Dash told them.

"Now, if we can come up with an idea of how to

proceed, I can reach out to my contacts," Dash said.

"Do we have any ideas?"

"Yes," Luke said. "I have one."

32

Luke took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and sought

to clear his mind. Now that they had the time and

space, he wanted to try again to reach Leia.

He had removed the stolen uniform and discarded

the blaster, and now he sat in the kneeling posture

Master Yoda had taught him for meditation. The new

clothes Dash had gotten for him felt appropriate: a

coarsely woven, dark gray hooded cape and cowl, a

plain shirt and a simple vest, pants and jacket, knee

boots, all in black, without any insignia. Maybe it was

not quite the uniform of a Jedi Knight, but it was close

enough.

Relax. Let go . . .

He concentrated, focused, said the name aloud:

"Leia . . ."

Waited a moment. Then, "Leia, I'm here. I'm coming

for you."

304 STAR WARS

She was using the computer, trying to find a floor

plan for Xizor's castle. He wasn't so foolish as to leave

one where she could access it; too bad—

Leia . . .

It was not telepathy so much as empathy, and since

it had happened before, on Bespin, she recognized the

sensation quickly.

Luke.

She took a deep breath and let part of it out, held

her silence. She was being watched; she must give no

sign of the connection with Luke. She pretended to

look at whatever the computer image was, but she was

seeing through it, into the distance beyond it, beyond

the walls.

Leia, I'm here. I'm coming for you.

That's what Luke was saying, if she could have put

it into words. But it wasn't expressed in words; it was a

feeling, and she felt the truth of it.

Luke was here, on Coruscant, not far away. He was

coming for her.

There was a calmness about Luke she hadn't felt before.

He had grown stronger; his control of the Force

was better. She was afraid for him and at the same time

heartened at the connection. The sense of his confidence

was very powerful. Before when she'd felt him

touch her this way, it had been when he'd been injured,

when Vader was on the brink of destroying him, but

now, now he felt strong, in control, potent. Maybe he

could rescue her. Maybe they would survive all this

somehow. i

Leia . . .

She smiled. Luke, I'm here . . .

Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight, smiled.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 305

In his chamber, Darth Vader felt the ripple in the

Force. It was elusive, but he recognized it this time.

Luke.

He was here. On Imperial Center.

The knowledge sent a chill through his body.

Vader reached out, tried to touch his son: Luke . . .

He frowned. The way was . . . blocked. It was not

only as if Luke's power had increased; it seemed also to

be in two separate places.

Impossible. He was interpreting the energies wrong.

There could be no other as strong as Luke in the Force;

the Jedi were all dead. The Emperor was gone, lightyears

away.

What could be causing that echo effect? Surely that

was all it was, an echo, some reverberation in the

Force.

Of a moment the ripple passed and Vader was alone

again.

He waved his hand, raised the lid of his chamber.

Stood and moved for his armor. Luke was here, and he

was going to find the boy. Find him—

—and bring him to the dark side.

33

Xizor sat alone in his private dining room deep in his

castle and lunched on thin slices of moonglow, a delicate,

rare—and expensive—pearlike fruit from more

than a hundred light-years away. As he ate, he

frowned. It wasn't the fruit, which was crisp and delicious;

no, that was outstanding, was exquisite as always.

But something was wrong.

What it was he could not say, but he had not gotten

to the top of an organization where you were either

quick and clever or you were dead and gone by ignoring

any input, be it logical or intuitive. In the complexity

that was Black Sun there were always problems—

but there were no indications of any more problems

than usual. No reports of treachery, no upstart rivals

trespassing on forbidden territory, no idealistic and

overzealous police officers snooping where they'd been

paid to leave off. The machine seemed to be running

fine.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 307

But there was an edgy, pit-of-the-stomach, nervous

feeling he had learned to pay attention to over the

years. It was a feeling, yes, but it was not as if he had

no emotions, merely that he controlled them.

He chewed thoughtfully on the fruit. Nothing had

changed about it, but it seemed to be . . . not quite as

good as it had been a few moments before.

Moonglow was found only on a single satellite

world, in a small section of one forest; it grew naturally

nowhere else in the galaxy; in fact, it could not be

grown anywhere else. Many had tried to transplant the

funguslike tree, and all had failed. About the size of a

man's fist, the fruit contained in its natural state one of

the most potent biological poisons known. A single unaltered

slice divided into a thousand tiny pieces would

be enough, if consumed, to kill a thousand people and

to do it in less than a minute. There was no known

antidote, but there was a way to neutralize the poison

before eating the fruit. Such preparation of moonglow

legally required a chef who had studied the technique

for a minimum of two years under a certified Master

Moonglow Chef, and the process itself consisted of

some ninety-seven steps. Should any of the steps be

omitted or performed incorrectly, the resulting dish

might cause anything from a mild stomach upset to a

painful, thrashing, hallucinatory coma, followed by

death. If a would-be diner went into a restaurant that

had the proper licenses to offer the dish, the price of a

single serving of moonglow would be somewhere

around a thousand credits. Xizor generally ate it three

or four times a month and had the most respected

moonglow chef in the galaxy on his payroll. Even so, a

small thrill always arose when he consumed the fruit.

Always the possibility, however slight, of an error.

It added a wondrous flavor to the taste.

Eating moonglow was somewhat like Xizor's contest

with Darth Vader, when he thought about it. There

was no thrill in contending with those you knew you

308 STAR WARS

would defeat beyond any shadow of a doubt. But with

an opponent such as Vader, lapdog to the Emperor that

he was, you had to remember that those teeth were

sharp and always ready to bite. He did not think Vader

would win, but there certainly was a slight possibility.

It added a wondrous flavor to the contest.

Was it Vader who tripped those warning jitters?

Or was it someone else?

He pushed the moonglow aside, no longer interested

in it. He would have Guri run a full security check on

his operations, onplanet and off-. And while she was

here, he would have her remove the remaining moonglow,

too. If his chef saw anything left on the plate, he

would probably quit in high dudgeon. Or worse, he

might be upset enough to miss a step next time he prepared

the dish. Xizor did not want that. Artists were so

temperamental.

He stared at the half-empty plate, whose cost would

furnish food for a small family for several months.

There was nothing else to be done about the edgy feeling.

It probably meant nothing anyway. Jitters, nothing

more.

He wished he could believe that.

They sat at a small table in the Underground hotel's

restaurant, waiting for their meal to be served.

Dash began, "This is the center of the Empire—"

"It is?" Lando cut in, heavy on the irony. "Uh-oh.

We shouldn't be here. Why, it could be . . . dangerous."

"What's your point, Dash?" Luke asked, ignoring

Lando's sarcasm.

"The Empire is corrupt. It runs less on loyalty and

honor than it does on bribes and graft. Credits lube the

gears, and nowhere more than here."

"So? You think we're going to be able to bribe a

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 309

guard? I don't think Black Sun is likely to put that kind

of person on the door," Lando offered.

"Not a guard, an engineer."

"What am I missing here?" Luke asked.

Dash continued: "In a bureaucracy, everything has

to be filed and copied and logged in quadruplicate. You

can't build anything without permits, licenses, inspections,

plans. All we need to do is find the right engineer,

one who maybe gambles too much or has more

taste than he's got money."

They still looked blank.

"All right," Dash said. "Here's the idea. We know

that the really big buildings on this planet extend as far

under the surface as they do above it. One thing I know

is, no matter how much graywater recycling and reclamation

you do, some of it is always going to be lost.

Waste products, sewage, they have to be pumped away

where bigger and more efficient systems can work on

them."

"Basic stuff, don't foul your own nest," Luke said.

"So?"

"A building as big as this one"—here he tapped a

holographic postcard showing several huge structures

that included among them the Emperor's castle—"generates

a lot of waste. There has to be a way to get rid of

it. I haven't seen any garbage vans or drain wagons on

the streets or in the skies of Coruscant, so they have to

break the solid waste down and pump it away, probably

as a slurry. Therefore we are talking about pipes."

Luke got it. He looked around the table. Said, "Big

pipes."

He saw the others get it.

Chewie said something.

Lando nodded and said, "Chewie is right. Those

conduits, if they are big enough to admit people, will

certainly be guarded."

Chewie said something else.

"Yeah," Dash said. "Chewie also points out such

310 STAR WARS

drains would be hard to locate, given that every building

will have similar systems. It's probably a monster

maze under the ground."

"Right. But there will probably be fewer guards

posted on a big sewage drain than the doors aboveground.

They wouldn't really expect any kind of assault

that way; you couldn't move a lot of troops in

without making noise their sensors would pick up. But

a few men would be lost in the background gurgle, if

they were careful."

Lando looked at Luke and Chewie, then back at

Dash. "Assuming we could find a guide, you are saying

you want us to wade through kilometers of sewage to

get into this place?" He looked at Dash as if he had just

turned into a big spider.

Dash smiled. "Exactly what the guards would think.

Who would be that stupid?"

Lando shook his head. "Us. Who else?"

"And finding a guide is no problem. I know somebody."

"I've heard that before," Luke said.

Vader took a deep breath, blew it out, then took another.

The energies of the dark side filled him, and he

could once again breathe as a normal man did. He focused

his anger. It was not right that he be crippled,

that he couldn't do this all the time. It was . . . not

. . . right!

The healing energies held.

As long as he could maintain his indignation, his

lungs and breathing passages stayed open and clear. He

fed the fires of his rage with the unfairness of a galaxy

that would not let him be whole.

Still the healing energies held.

He fought the sense of relief he felt. Fought it and

kept his anger pure.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 311

And still they held. Almost two minutes now. A new

record.

He would grow stronger. He would add Luke's

power to his own, and he would eventually be able to

shed the armor, to walk around as normal men walked.

Luke . . .

He tried to stop the smile. Failed.

Sank back into the protection of his breathing chamber,

unable to maintain the energies any longer. But

even so, he'd managed two minutes. Eventually it

would be ten minutes, then an hour, then as long as he

wished.

Eventually.

Leia was not the most patient woman in the galaxy,

she knew. Being cooped up in a room, no matter how

well appointed that room might be, was not her idea of

fun.

She tried meditating, but her mind buzzed too much.

She worked on escape plans, but given how little information

she had, that was also fairly limited in scope.

Finally she took to exercising. She knew some basic

gymnastics, easy enough to do as long as you had a

little floor space. The carpet was almost as thick as a

tumbling mat, and while the roof wasn't high enough

to allow flips—even if she could still do one—there was

nothing stopping her from doing handstands and assorted

presses. She stretched, twisted, did splits, pitted

her muscles against gravity in a variety of ways until

she worked up a healthy sweat.

When she was done and fairly exhausted, she felt a

lot better. She padded into the refresher and cranked

up the shower. Turned off the lights and undressed,

showered, and got dressed again in the dark. Tricky

business, but since she was fairly sure Xizor had a hidden

holocam or three in her room, she was not going to

give him a show.

312 S TAR WARS

Feeling a little sore but better, Leia once again considered

ways to escape. Or, more likely, ways to help

Luke with whatever plan he had. She was worried

about him, but on another level, pleased that he would

come for her.

It was nice to know somebody cared that much.

34

Dash's contact, one Benedict Vidkun, was more than

willing to scan the systems, make maps, lead them himself

or whatever else they might want—as long as they

had plenty of credits.

They didn't really have a whole lot of money among

them. Lando had a little stashed here and there, plus

what he'd managed to get from the Galactic Bank before

his accounts on Bespin were shut down by the Empire.

But under a pseudonym, Leia had a line of credit

from the Alliance for use in emergencies, and Luke

knew the account's access code. He figured this was as

good a time as any to use it. Vidkun was willing to sell

himself cheaply, too. The engineer's integrity was apparently

worth about three months' salary—and that

was not very much.

He was a short, thin man, fish-belly pale, with bulging

brown eyes, a wispy beard and mustache, and more

than his share of nose. He tended to clear his throat a

lot. According to him, he worked nights, slept days,

314 STAR WARS

and seldom saw the sun, save when he went to and

returned from his duties under the Imperial Complex.

His wife, a somewhat younger woman, apparently had

very expensive tastes.

"—see this conduit? This is the subsewer for the entire

sector. You could drive a landspeeder through it;

it's huge. The branch we want is here." He pointed to

the holograph floating over the table. "That one drains

Xizor's castle. There's a locked grate to keep out rats

and snake eyes and other vermin, but maintenance has

the key codes. After that, it's a clear shot to the building

pipes, here. About a half kilometer is all."

He touched a control on the projector and the picture

changed, enlarged as the viewpoint zoomed in

closer on the mass of noodlelike tunnels.

"How big are those?" Lando said.

"You can see, they're to scale. Big enough for a couple

of men to walk side by side, if they ain't too tall."

He glanced at Chewie. "The Wook here'll have to

hunch down some."

Chewie growled at the little man.

"Those go into the building itself?"

The engineer cleared his throat, a phlegmy rasp.

"Yuh. There'll be another rat-grate where they enter

the structure. We're not supposed to have the lock

codes for those, but, well, it so happens my brother-inlaw

Daiv works for the firm that got the construction

of Xizor's castle and I can give you those. For a consideration."

He grinned, revealing yellow teeth that

looked sharper than they should.

Luke and Lando exchanged glances.

"How much of a consideration?" Dash asked.

"Two hundred and fifty credits?"

"A hundred and twenty-five," Lando said before

Dash could speak.

"Save us a lot of trouble, we got those codes."

"Blaster energy is cheaper," Lando said. "We can

blow the locks. One-fifty."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 315

"Make a lot of noise, you don't want that. Oneseventy-

five."

Lando nodded. "Okay, deal."

The engineer smiled nervously and continued.

"Now, we got to watch out for the varmint zapper,

here." He waved his finger through the diaphanous image.

"Walk into that field and bzzzt! it'll cook you

faster'n a high-amp microwave blast. As it happens, my

other brother-in-law, Lair, he installs these things, and

I have the bypass codes."

"For a consideration," Luke said. His voice was dry.

"Same price as the other?"

Lando cut his gaze to the ceiling.

Dash said, "All right."

"After that, all you got to worry about is getting out

of the gather chamber and past whatever guards are

down there. I can't help you there; Xizor uses his own

people and I don't know any of 'em."

"We'll manage," Dash said.

Vidkun nodded. He stood.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lando said.

"Huh? Home."

"I don't think so," Dash said. "I think maybe you'll

stay here with us."

"But you said you ain't ready to go until tomorrow."

"We changed our minds," Dash said. "We want to

go now. And since we don't want to find a squad of

stormtroopers or Black Sun guards waiting for us when

we start wading through the sewers, we'd rather you

didn't make any calls."

"Hey, I wouldn't turn you in!"

"Not unless you thought you could get more for us

from Black Sun or the Empire," Lando said. "But since

you're going to be leading us, anybody starts shooting,

guess who gets it first?"

Vidkun looked nervous. He cleared his throat, swal-

316 STAR WARS

lowed, said, "How about if I call my wife and tell her?

She'll be really mad at me if I don't."

"So buy her a nice present when you get back,"

Dash suggested. "You'll have a pocketful of credits,

you can make it up to her."

The engineer rubbed at his face, flashed his orpimental

smile again. "Yuh. Well. I guess so, since I don't

have much of a choice."

"That's right," Dash said.

The planet-glow was so bright, the incoming and

outgoing ships so plentiful that it never truly got dark

here on Xizor's private balcony. There was apparently

a brisk convection-downdraft blowing, generated as

the buildings cooled and the night air slid down into

the artificial canyons toward the streets far below. Apparently,

because even here, many stories above the

surface, Xizor's protections included hand-thick transparisteel

plate wrapped around the balcony in an armored

bubble. He could see but not feel the night. It

was a small price to pay for the safe view.

There was always the option of donning a disguise if

he wanted to walk along among the rabble, and thus

far, the lack of personal freedom had not bothered him

that much.

Guri approached from behind him, her footsteps

barely audible.

"All of our security systems have reported," she

said.

"And . . . ?"

"No unexpected activity. Nothing more threatening

than usual."

He nodded. Waited a moment, then said, "I invited

her up here." He waved at the view. "She refused."

There was a pause, longer than Guri would normally

allow before speaking. She said, "Your pher-

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 317;

omonal attractant was insufficient to bend her to you^

will; that has never happened before."

"I had noticed that, thank you."

"This failure has made her more appealing."

Xizor said, "Your point?"

"One wants more what one cannot have. As long as

she resists your advances, her charisma grows stronger.

The more she resists, the more you desire her. It has

become a contest of wills."

He smiled. "So it has. Which I will win, eventually."

Guri said nothing.

"You doubt me?"

"You have never failed before."

Not really an answer, but true enough. "And you,

my ever-vigilant bodyguard, you do not approve."

"The more intelligent and dedicated someone is, the

more dangerous she can be when threatened."

He stared at a particularly congested lane of groundto-

space traffic. The running lamps of the vessels

seemed to form an almost continuous line of brightcolored

light.

He said, "You of all beings should understand.

Much of life is about the search for equals. You are

unique. There are others similar to you, but none exactly

like you. You are superior to any other HRD ever

created."

"Yes," she said.

"Don't you ever want to meet one who is capable of

moving, of feeling, of thinking up to your level? An

equal?"

"Not particularly. What would be the point?

Greater than I, lesser than I, what does it matter to my

functioning?"

He turned away from the light show in the skies and

looked at her. "Yet you wish for tasks that will challenge

you."

"Of course."

"It is the same thing. Yes, it is dangerous to contend

318 STAR WARS

with one who might defeat you, and perhaps it is even

more dangerous to consort with one who might someday

stab you as you lie sleeping next to her; still, the

possibilities are so much . . . more.

"There are billions of women, many of whom are

more beautiful, more adept physically, even more dedicated,"

he continued. "Maybe even all three. But this

one is the one I want and I will have her."

Guri nodded once. "Ah. This is why you eat moonglow."

He looked at her. She did understand, at least on

some level. He nodded. "After I have accomplished the

conquest, when I have grown tired of her, then you

may eliminate her."

"After you have accomplished the conquest."

He smiled. Heard the unspoken "If you do" in her

voice.

After Guri left, he returned to his skygazing. Most

people would be thrilled to have found a partner with

whom they could live in stimulation for the rest of their

lives. He was not most people. He was, just as Guri

was, unique. He would wait as long as necessary to

taste Leia, and when he had done so, he would be satisfied

and finished with her. In his search for equals, she

was close, but not quite as good as he.

So far, nobody in the galaxy had been, and he did

not expect he would ever find such a person. He was,

simply, superior to everyone.

He had learned to live with it.

"Threepio?"

"Yes, Master Luke?"

"Everything okay on the ship?"

There was a short pause. Luke twirled the small

comlink absently in his fingers.

Threepio's voice was somewhat tinny from the comlink.

"On the ship, yes. But Artoo has overheard some

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 319

tactical communications on a shielded operations channel.

Apparently there are search teams in the area. They

seem to be looking for a Corellian freighter."

Luke stared at the comlink. "Hmm. Okay. Keep a

sharp eye out. If anybody starts snooping around you,

call me."

"Certainly I shall. Right away," Threepio said.

Luke chewed at his lip. They were about to go into

the sewers. He didn't need any more problems.

Vader stood on the balcony of his castle, immune to

the night breeze that washed over him. He had tried to

reach out with the Force and find Luke, but had failed.

Surely it was Luke? Who else could it be? And if it was

—where he was exactly was probably not as important

as why he was here in Imperial Center.

Had he come to challenge Vader? Had he been sent

on some Rebel scheme to attack the Emperor? The protective

line of Imperial warships would stop any attack

by the Rebel forces, but it was designed to detect large

vessels and not mites. A determined pilot in a small

ship could find ways through the Imperial skynet.

What is it, my son? Why have you come here? Let

yourself hear me, reveal your whereabouts and I will

come to you.

If Luke heard his call, there was no response.

"My lord Vader," came the voice from behind him.

He turned. The little man who had supplied him

with the damning information on Xizor stood there.

Vader had left orders he was to be admitted no matter

when he arrived.

"You have something for me?"

"Yes, my lord. We have uncovered a pirated copy of

certain of the planetary files for Falleen, thought to be

destroyed."

"Why should I find this interesting?"

320 STAR WARS

"It contains some material about Prince Xizor's family.

His father was king of a small nation there."

Vader frowned. "I knew his father was royalty, but I

have been given to understand that Prince Xizor was

orphaned at an early age."

"Not precisely, my lord. You may recall a biological

experiment on Falleen that . . . went awry a decade

or so past."

"Yes, I recall."

"During the, ah, sterilization procedure, some Imperial

citizens' lives were lost."

"A regrettable incident."

The little man touched a control on his belt. A hologram

appeared between him and Vader. It appeared

to be a family portrait of eight Falleen. Vader looked at

the group. There was a certain familial resemblance

among them—wait. One of them was Xizor. He looked

much the same, a little younger, perhaps. It was hard to

say; Falleen aged very slowly; they were a long-lived

species.

"Prince Xizor's family," the little man said. "All of

whom were killed during the destruction of the mutant

bacterium that escaped from the lab."

A light dawned then, bright and clear and sudden in

Vader's mind. Ah! That explained much. It was not

simply that Xizor considered Vader a competitor for

the Emperor's affection, not merely a roadblock to his

ambitions.

It was personal.

"How did the records of this come to be destroyed?"

The little man shook his head. "We do not know.

For some reason, all references to Xizor's family simply

vanished, shortly after the destruction of the city."

Darth Vader had been in charge of that project.

Xizor must consider him responsible for the deaths of

his family. And now he wanted to kill Luke—Vader's

SHADOWS OF THE EMP I R E 321

son. Not simply to make him lose face in the eyes of

the Emperor, but for revenge!

It made sense. Through Black Sun, Xizor had the

means to get to and eliminate the records. He was Falleen

and thus patient. Was it not the Falleen who said

that vengeance was like fine wine? It should be aged

until it was perfect. They were cold, the lizard men;

they could wait for a long time to get what they

wanted.

Well. So could he.

"Once again you have served me well," Vader said.

"When you finish this project, you will no longer have

need to worry about money, such is my gratitude."

The little man bowed low. "My lord."

Vader waved him away. He had things to think

about.

Things to do.

35

By the time they were ready to leave, the small band

was outfitted with all the gear they thought they might

need for a long hike through the sewers followed by an

assault on a heavily fortified building.

Luke certainly didn't consider himself a Jedi Master,

but he elected to use his lightsaber as a weapon.

Chewie managed to locate a bowcaster, and Lando and

Dash stuck to their own blasters. Nobody offered

Vidkun a weapon—if the shooting started, they weren't

at all sure which way he might be firing.

Dash had expressed it by saying that people like

Vidkun were useful—but you didn't trust them any farther

than you could see them. You paid them what you

owed and then got as far away as you could, fast.

They elected to go during the daylight hours. Vidkun

would normally be off work and thus would not be

missed. That far under the ground, it wouldn't matter

what the sun was doing, either.

Luke shifted some of the gear on his belt, adjusted

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 323

the small backpack so it rode more comfortably on his

shoulders.

Dash said, "Ready?"

Everybody was.

"Let's do it."

Darth Vader received a call from the Emperor, via

the holonet:

"My master."

"Lord Vader. How are things there?"

Why was he asking that? "Calm. There are no problems."

"Stay alert, Lord Vader. I have felt a disturbance in

the Force."

"Yes, my master."

When the Emperor had discommed, Vader stood

and stared into infinity. Was it Luke the Emperor

sensed? Or something else? Black Sun and its amoral

leader?

Well. It was time, he decided, to see if he could back

that particular adversary into a corner. To his computer,

he said, "Get me Prince Xizor."

In his sanctum, Xizor was mildly surprised at the

incoming call.

"Lord Vader. What a pleasant surprise."

The image of Vader looked, as always, imperturbable.

But when he spoke, the durasteel in his voice was

barely covered by a thin layer of civility:

"Perhaps not so pleasant. I have been made aware of

your attempts to kill Luke Skywalker. You will cease

all attempts to harm the boy immediately."

Xizor kept his face neutral, even though he felt a

violent surge of anger. "Your information is in error,

Lord Vader. And even if it were correct, I am given to

understand that the boy is a Rebel officer, all of whom

324 . STAR WARS

are traitors and wanted dead or alive. Is this sudden

change of policy an official Imperial decree?"

"If Skywalker is harmed, I will hold you personally

accountable."

"I see. I assure you that if I should happen to come

across Skywalker, I will extend to him the same courtesy

I would to you, Lord Vader."

Vader broke the connection.

Xizor took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Again

he told himself it was to be expected that Vader would

uncover some information about Skywalker sooner or

later, as had the Emperor. Few things of any real value

could be kept secret forever; still, it was another irritant.

This should have no effect on his plans, either; he

would merely have to be more circumspect in his actions.

When Skywalker could not be found, Vader

might suspect who was responsible, but as long as he

did not have proof, Xizor would be safe.

Knowing that did not quite erase the lingering echo

of fear.

Of course, the Emperor could always shift his

stance. He had done so more than a few times and for

reasons that often seemed capricious at best. Still, if

Xizor could deliver the leaders of the Alliance, that

would go a long way toward keeping Imperial favor.

With the Rebellion beheaded, a lot of effort would be

saved; billions of credits and tens of thousands of men

and machines would be freed for the Emperor's other

pleasures, whatever those might be. The Dark Lord of

the Sith might rant, but as long as he was that useful,

Xizor would be blasterproof and untouchable.

Darth Vader was too much the Emperor's puppet to

go against Palpatine's wishes.

This conversation was thus mildly upsetting, nothing

more, and in fact had given Xizor knowledge he had

not had before. Vader was not sleeping, and that was

good to know. Underestimating one's enemy was always

a bad thing.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 325

Leia went through the second exercise routine of the

day, but kept it light. She might need to move in a

hurry, and she wanted to be flexible and warmed up

but not exhausted.

Things were about to happen.

36

The sludge was a greenish black, thick, oily, and it

stank worse than anything Luke had ever smelled before.

Dregs of the dregs, the silty goop was liquid, or at

least fluid, and it flowed around their feet, sloshing

sometimes deeper than their ankles.

Luke was very glad he had calf-length boots with his

new clothes.

The tunnel in which they walked was as big as

Vidkun had promised. It was lighted from a row of

somewhat dim overhead glowsticks but bright enough

to see as much as they wanted.

Something ahead of them chittered, and there came

a pair of splashes, as if somebody had dropped a couple

of head-size stones into the inky liquid.

Chewie, in the lead, muttered something. He

sounded quite agitated. He stopped moving.

Lando, right behind him and just ahead of Luke and

Vidkun, said, "I heard it. It's not my fault you didn't

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 327

want to wear boots. Go on, it's more afraid of you

than you are of it."

Behind them, bringing up the rear, Dash said,

"Yeah, better watch yourself, Chewbacca! I hear that

sewer serpents love Wookiee toes!"

Chewie's reply to that was short, sharp, and probably

obscene.

Lando said, "Fine, forget the life debt you owe Han.

Let the bad guys keep Leia because you're afraid of a

toothless little slitherette."

Chewie growled, but started moving again.

Vidkun said, "What's with the Wook?"

"He doesn't like little swimming or running things,"

Luke said. "He really doesn't like 'em."

Vidkun shrugged. "A few hundred more meters," he

said. He was apparently unaffected by their slog

through the foul flow sloshing against their legs.

"Hey!" Dash said. "Look out!"

Luke spun, pulled his lightsaber from his belt, and

thumbed the weapon's control on—

Just in time to see a large bloodshot eye pop up on a

fleshy stalk attached to something slithering through

the murky effluvium toward him. He also caught sight

of Dash's fast draw. A dianoga!

"Don't shoot!" Luke ordered. With that, he dropped

into a crouch and swung the lightsaber.

The dianoga tried to duck, but it was too slow. The

shimmering beam of hard light sliced through the stalk,

and the eye tumbled into the sludge. The wounded

creature began to thrash wildly, heaving large and muscular

coils of its body every which way.

Luke stepped in closer and brought the blade down.

Hit the dianoga's body a solid blow and chopped it in

half.

The cut pieces continued thrashing, but the spasms

quickly subsided.

Dash spun his blaster around his finger and dropped

it back into his holster. "Nice move, kid."

328 STAR WARS

"I've seen these things before," Luke said. "Last

time I ran into one was in a trash compactor. It nearly

got me."

Chewie harned his agreement.

"You spend a lot of time in places like this?" Dash

said.

"Not if I can help it."

The five of them continued to wade through the

mire.

"Just ahead, there," Vidkun said.

They stopped. There were two large, round holes in

the wall, covered with finger-thick metal mesh gates.

The holes were angled down slightly. More sludge ran

from the smaller tubes in a shallow stream to join the

slow-moving slurry in the large pipe.

Lando said, "Okay, Vidkun, let's see if those codes

you have work."

The engineer moved forward, did something to the

locking mechanisms with a plastic card. The gates

swung open. He grinned at them. "See? Just like I told

you. We want the one on the right."

Chewie started to climb into the new tunnel. It was

a little short for him, but the others should have no

trouble walking upright in it.

Chewie slipped, nearly fell, managed to catch himself.

He had to put one hand into the goo to do it, and

when he pulled that hand out, it was as dark as the

stuff that covered it. He shook his hand violently.

Chewie was not happy.

"Careful," Vidkun said. "It's a little slippery in

places."

Chewie turned slowly to stare at Vidkun. Lucky for

the engineer that Wookiee eyes weren't lasers; otherwise,

Vidkun would have been burned into a crispy

black lump where he stood.

Lando chuckled. "Yeah, be careful, you big clumsy

—yow!"

Lando skidded and sat down in the sludge. He came

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 329

up fast, but not fast enough to keep his backside from

being soaked.

Chewie laughed so hard Luke thought he might fall

again.

Luke fought his own grin. It served Lando right, but

he didn't want to be next, so he kept quiet. Things had

a way of happening if you tempted fate.

"You should have worn old clothes," Dash put in.

"Hey, Rendar, I don't have any old clothes."

"You do now. I don't think you'll ever get 'em clean

enough to wear in public. They'd drum you right out of

the Elite Stormtroopers smelling like that."

"Shut up," Lando said.

They moved into the drain and climbed the slight

incline very carefully.

"Coming on the zap field," Vidkun said. "Lemme

run the deactivator."

Everybody stopped while the engineer fiddled with

the controls on a small black box he pulled from his

belt.

Just ahead of them the air shimmered. There was a

brief flash of purplish light.

"Should be okay now," Vidkun said.

"Fine, you go first," Lando said.

The engineer glared at him but moved to the front.

When he'd walked a few more meters without turning

into crispy fried Vidkun, they followed him.

You'd think that after a while you'd get used to the

smell, Luke thought. But it seemed to be constantly

shifting, going from bad to worse, bringing forth stinks

he'd never imagined.

It was going to take a real hot and real long shower

to wash the stench off.

Where they walked, the sludge reflected the pale

glowstick light onto the walls of the tunnel in eerie,

rippling waves. The smallest sounds were magnified

and echoed, lapping back at them from the hard

duracrete walls.

330 STAR WARS

"Not far now," the engineer said.

"Good," Lando, Luke, and Dash all said together.

Chewie said something, too, and Luke didn't need a

translator to figure out he was in agreement. Better to

face Xizor's guards than endure this guck much longer.

"There," Vidkun whispered. "There is the entrance

to the building. It leads into the recycler in the subsubbasement.

There won't be any guards inside the

recycler itself, but there will probably be some in the

adjoining flow chamber. Here's the key to the ratgrate."

He handed a plastic card to Lando. "See you."

He turned to leave.

Dash stepped in front of him. "Where do you think

you're going?"

"Hey, I'm done. I got you to the building, I got you

the floor plans for the place, that was the deal."

"Well, I guess you have us there," Dash said. "That

was the deal, all right. But see, there's been a little

change in our itinerary."

Vidkun looked alarmed.

"Easy, we aren't going to blast you or anything.

We'd just like you to come along until we get to a place

where you can safely . . . wait for us."

Vidkun wasn't having any of it. "No offense or anything,

but what if you get killed? I might be waiting a

long time!"

"I guess you'll have to take that chance," Lando

said. "It's not that we don't trust you. It's just that we

don't trust you. Besides, it'll be a lot nicer inside." He

waved at the gurgling black flow.

"I don't mind the runoff," Vidkun said. "I'm in it all

the time."

"Nevertheless, we insist," Lando said. He patted his

blaster.

Vidkun shrugged. "Well. Okay. Since you put it that

way . . ."

And before anybody could react, he pulled a small

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 331

blaster of his own from his coverall and started shooting

wildly.

Luke hadn't seen it coming. The guy didn't seem to

be the type. As a result, Luke was slow to clear his

lightsaber.

The first shot seared past, a clean miss.

The second shot hit Dash; Luke heard him grunt.

Move, Luke!

The engineer didn't get off a third shot because Dash

snapped his blaster up and put a bolt right between the

man's eyes.

Vidkun went down with a gooey splash that sprayed

black onto the tunnel walls. He slid a little way down

the gentle slope on his back, turned slightly, then

stopped.

A wisp of smoke rose from the ragged hole in his

forehead.

"Dash?"

"I'm okay. Just scorched me a little."

He turned and showed the burn along his left hip.

The bolt had sliced a clean line of Dash's coverall away

and raised a large blister. It wasn't even bleeding.

"Don't get any of this crud on you," Lando said,

waving at the sewage. "Probably wouldn't do you any

good."

"Where'd he get the blaster?" Luke said, replacing

his lightsaber.

"Must have had it all along," Lando said. "What

I'm wondering is, why'd he do it? We weren't going to

hurt him."

"Guy like that, he figures he sold out, why shouldn't

we?" Dash said.

Luke opened the first aid kit he'd brought and offered

Dash a surgical dressing. Dash slapped the patch

on over his hip, pressed the seal, and relaxed a little as

the topical painkiller in the bandage coated the wound.

He moved to look down at Vidkun. "I stand cor-

332 STAR WARS

rected," he said. "I guess we were going to blast you.

But it wasn't our idea."

"Let's hope the guards didn't hear the shooting,"

Lando said.

"Yeah." Luke looked around, took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

They were.

37

Uh-oh," Luke whispered.

Crouched behind him in the recycler, Lando also

whispered, "I do not need to hear that." A beat.

"What?"

Even a whisper seemed loud in the chamber. More

of the foul, murky fluid pooled around their ankles. A

converter inset into the circular walls hummed and

made yet more of the sewage, trickling it down an open

drain.

"Guards," Luke said.

"So?"

"There are six of them."

"Six? To guard a sewage plant?"

Dash added his whisper: "So what? That's only one

and a half each. How long does it take for you to pull a

trigger, Calrissian?"

"Listen, pal, don't worry about how long I—"

"Shhh!" Luke said. He peered through the halffogged

cover plate on the recycler's door again. True,

334 STAR WARS

there were six men only a few meters away; then again,

four of them sat at a table, playing cards,.blast rifles

stacked against the wall. Two others stood near the

cardplayers, watching and apparently offering advice,

but they had their weapons slung over their shoulders.

Dash was right. If they moved fast, they could cover

the guards before they had a chance to unship their

rifles; they could disarm them, tie them up, and be on

their way with nobody the wiser. The trick was to do it

before one of the guards got his comlink out to call for

help.

Luke moved away from the cover plate and

crouched in the mire with the others. "Okay, here's the

deal. Dash, you pop the hatch; I'll go first; Chewie is

behind me, then Lando. You come last."

"Whoa, why that order?" Dash whispered. "And

who put you in charge?"

"I can stop a bolt with my lightsaber if one of the

guards is some kind of quick-draw expert. Chewie is

pretty impressive with his bowcaster; they'll pay more

attention to him than you or Lando. Plus he's a better

shot if it comes to that."

"Not a better shot than I am. And it'd be a lot easier

just to jump out and mow 'em all down," Dash said.

"We hit 'em fast and hard, they're history."

"That's the difference between us and the Empire,"

Luke said. "They wouldn't hesitate to do it that way.

We don't shoot unless we have to."

"Fine. Get us all killed being a nice guy."

Luke shook his head. A Jedi had to know how to be

active if the situation required it, but a Jedi was also

supposed to avoid violence whenever he could possibly

do so. "Warrior" and "killer" did not mean the same

thing.

"Okay. Ready?" Luke held the lightsaber down low

so the glow wouldn't give them away and clicked it on.

He took a couple of deep breaths.

"On three. One . . . two . . . threel"

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 335

Dash shoved the hatch open—

Luke leaped out, brought his lightsaber up into a

ready stance—

"Nobody move!" he yelled—

Chewie jumped out behind him—

—the Wookiee's wet feet slid on the floor as if he

were wearing ice skates, and he fell flat on his back—

Lando tried to leap over Chewie but tripped on the

fallen Wookiee and sprawled facedown—

The startled guards leaped up and went for their

weapons—

Oh, man!

Leia was sitting on the bed, when all of a sudden she

felt a hot jolt of fear.

What—?

They might be stuck in a lousy assignment, but the

guards weren't slow. The two standing unslung their

blast rifles and swung them up, fired—

Luke blocked the first bolt, shifted in the Force,

blocked the second—

Dash dived over Lando and Chewie, shoulder-rolled

once, stretched out prone, fired once, twice, three

times—

The two standing guards went down, but another

one spun away from the wall, blast rifle spewing—

Chewie sat up, and the bowcaster spoke—

The third guard went down, but the fourth one shot

at them—

Luke barely blocked a beam that vibrated his hands

and arms hard, but the reflected bolt hit one of the

overhead lamps and shattered it; the room went dimmer—

Dash's blaster spat hard light again and again;

Chewie's bowcaster thrummed—

336 STAR WA R S

The guards were all down now, save one, but he

didn't have a gun, he was yelling—

Yelling into a comlink—

Lando shot the last guard and he dropped; the comlink

flew from his hand and rolled to a stop next to

Luke's boots.

From the comlink came a tinny voice: "Thix? What

is going on down there? Thix? Come in, sector oneone-

three-eight, come in—"

Chewie came to his feet. The Wookiee shrugged and

looked embarrassed.

Luke shook his head. Stomped down on the

squawking comlink with his boot heel and smashed it.

"So much for sneaking in quietly," Lando said.

Xizor was paying the cultural minister his monthly

bribe when Guri stepped into the room. The Dark

Prince made polite noises and dismissed the minister.

When the man was gone, he said, "What?"

"A problem in the sub-subbasement."

"What kind of problem?"

She shrugged. "We don't know. That area is still not

wired for surveillance and the guards are not answering."

"Another communication failure," he said. That

happened a lot down where the pipes and conduits and

heavy durasteel beams were thick, some kind of com

wave interference the engineers had not been able to

resolve. Dead spots, they called them. "It's either a com

glitch—or Skywalker is faster and smarter than we

thought. Have the drain sensors picked up any armies

marching in under the building?"

"No."

"Good. If it is Skywalker, he's probably alone, or

perhaps the Wookiee is with him. Send a unit to check

it out."

"Two squads are already on the way," she said.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 337

"Good. Send in the Moff on your way out. There is

nothing to worry about."

There really wasn't anything to be worried about, he

told himself. One boy wasn't going to get past his security,

no matter how lucky he was.

Luke and the others ran. So far, the floor plan they'd

memorized was accurate, but it was too big to have

learned it all, and there was a chance they might blunder

into a dead end if they weren't careful. Still, speed

was the most important thing now; the place was

alerted. They'd have to risk it—they couldn't afford to

take the guided tour.

Chewie knew where Leia was, and he was in the

lead.

The quartet came around a sharp corner in a wide

corridor and nearly ran into four more guards.

Everybody who had a blaster started shooting.

From the comlink on Luke's belt, Threepio's strident

and excited voice suddenly began calling: "Master

Luke, Master Luke!"

Luke blocked an incoming blaster beam. He yelled

at the comlink but left it on his belt: "We're busy here,

Threepio!"

"But Master Luke, there are men coming toward the

ship! Men with guns!"

Great. Just what he needed.

Luke deflected another beam, leaped forward, and

found himself within reach of the man who'd shot at

him. He whipped the lightsaber down, and the hand

holding the blaster dropped to the floor. Luke spun and

thrust a side kick at the guard, hit him squarely on the

nose, and knocked him flat.

The other guards were all down as well. Luke

pointed the way the guards had just come. "That way

—it ought to be clear!"

338 STAR WARS

As they ran, he pulled his comlink from his belt.

"Threepio?"

"Oh, dear, oh, dear!"

"Threepio!"

"Master Luke. Oh, what shall we do?"

"Take the ship out of there, now! Just like we talked

about. Artoo knows the systems; you can operate the

controls. Call me back when you're in the air. Keep it

suborbital and under the stratospheric security scanners,

you got that?"

"Yes, Master Luke!"

"Go!"

Leia felt something in the air. A sense of impending

. . . something she couldn't quite touch.

Luke. Luke was here.

She began to gather the parts of her disguise.

We've lost contact with the second unit of guards,"

Guri told Xizor.

"Same area?"

"No. Four levels up."

Hmm. That was well above the normal area of com

problems in the castle. And an unlikely coincidence.

"Put security on full alert."

"Already done," she said.

Could it be Skywalker? Had he somehow gotten

into the castle without being detected? Or was it someone

else?

"Cancel my appointments. Go and fetch Princess

Leia. Bring her to my strong room."

Chewie led them up another eight or ten floors before

they ran into another group of guards. The exchange

of blaster fire was fast, the air full of crackling

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 339

energy, yelling men, the smell of burned wall and

ozone.

Dash was right about one thing: He could shoot. He

nailed three guards with three shots—zap, zap, zap!—

as fast as anybody Luke had ever seen. Luke himself

deflected or blocked the bolts that came his way, the

ricochets adding to the general confusion. Chewie and

Lando pounded away with their weapons. The guards

were not bad, but they weren't desperate. They were

shooting for pay; Luke and his friends were shooting

for their lives. The last guard standing turned and ran.

Chewie spiked him and he did a belly flop onto the

floor and skidded two meters before veering into a side

wall and thumping to a halt.

"Go, go, go!"

Leia felt somebody approaching her room. Intuition,

she guessed, but she trusted it. She grabbed one of the

chairs and slid it next to the door. Stood on the back of

it, balanced carefully against the wall, the heavy bounty

hunter's helmet clutched tightly in her hands.

The door opened, and Guri stepped into the room.

She was fast, but Leia had already started moving. Before

Guri could turn, Leia hammered the back of her

head with the helmet. It was a powerful blow and

would have knocked a human woman unconscious. As

it was, the impact was enough to off-balance the droid,

and she stumbled forward.

That was enough for Leia to leap from the chair and

scoot out of the room into the hall. She slapped the

door control—

Guri recovered and was on the way back, when the

door shut. Leia jammed the lock mechanism closed—

The door shook from Guri's impact.

The next hit splintered the heavy plastic, spider-

340 STAR WA R S

webbed it with tiny cracks. It wasn't going to hold her

long, Leia knew.

She turned and ran.

Chewie led them up a stairwell a dozen levels above

where they'd entered the castle.

"Master Luke? We have successfully left the building."

Threepio.

Luke pulled his comlink so he wouldn't have to yell

at it. "Where are you?"

"Somewhere in the sky, Master Luke, I—what? Oh,

be quiet, I'm flying it correctly, it—ah! Ahh!"

"Threepio?"

There was a moment of silence. Then a crunching

noise. "I saw it, you blithering ash can! If you hadn't

distracted me I would have turned in time."

"Threepio, what is going on?"

Luke heard Artoo whistling frantically in the background.

"Shut up, you twit! It was not my fault!"

"Threepio?"

The droid said, "What? Where? Oh, no!"

There came a sound like breaking glass.

"Threepio!"

"I'm sorry, Master Luke. Thanks to Artoo's woefully

inadequate instructions, we've accidentally destroyed

an advertising billboard and a broadcasting

tower. No, I don't think we hit that hover van, we just

brushed it. Yes, it was too your fault! If you hadn't

been jabbering at me like an overheated teakettle, I

would have—"

"Threepio, stop talking to Artoo and tell me what is

going on."

"We are flying somewhat low to the ground because

Artoo said we should, but I do think we should climb a

bit higher. No, I don't care how much astronavigation

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 341

you know, I am flying the ship now. Just give me the

directions."

"All right. Listen. Bring the Falcon to the coordinates

I told you. Hurry. And gain enough altitude so

you don't hit anything."

"You see? I told you we were too low, but no, no

one can tell you anything, you know it all—"

"Threepio!"

"Yes, Master Luke. We are on the way. No, I don't

think we should go that way, that building is much too

tall, we should go this way, oh, look out\"

Luke had to break the connection then. There was a

door just ahead of them, a heavy fireproof door, and it

was locked.

Lando leveled his blaster at it, but Luke stopped

him. "Don't. It's magnetically shielded. That will

bounce off and maybe hit one of us."

"How are we supposed to get through it, then?"

"Stand back. Let's see if it will stop a lightsaber."

He lit the blade.

The door would not stop a lightsaber.

They went through and continued to climb.

Guri burst into Xizor's strong room. He blinked at

her. "What?"

"She got away. She was waiting when I got there.

She struck me from behind. I am undamaged but it

gave her enough time to slip out."

"Blast!" Xizor could not control his outburst. This"

was not good. This was his castle, and things were getting

out of control. Had he underestimated Skywalker?

Apparently so. Time to correct that.

He moved to a desk, opened a sliding panel. Removed

from the hidden compartment a sleek and highpowered

blaster.

"All right. Let's go find her. And whoever is causing

these problems."

342 STAR WA R S

Hold up a second," Lando said.

"What? Why?"

Lando pointed at a junction box inset into the wall.

"This is a security breaker."

"So?"

"Move to that side."

Everybody did. Lando fired a blaster bolt into the

simple lock mechanism, swung the thin plate open.

"The surveillance holocams and sensors are routed

through these fiber-optic cables." He waved his blaster

at several finger-thick translucent white wires.

"How do you know that?"

"Trust me. I have some experience with such

things." With that, he blasted the cables. Smoke and

sparks spewed from the wall, made a short-lived fountain

of yellow and orange before it shorted out. The

acrid stink of burned plastic filled the corridor.

"Now they won't be able to see us, at least on this

level. If we take out all of these we find, they'll go

blind."

Chewie yelled something. Luke turned. More

guards, and they weren't blind, although they shot as if

they were. Good thing, too.

"This way!" Luke yelled.

Firing behind them, the four of them ran, blaster

bolts stabbing after them.

They rounded another corner, zigzagged through a

side corridor, and sprinted toward a door at the end of

the hall. Heard somebody pounding toward the other

side, saw the door start to slide back. Dash and Lando

brought their guns up—

"No!" Luke yelled. "Don't shoot!"

The door opened wide to reveal—

"Leia!"

Luke grinned, and she returned it. He ran to her.

They embraced.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 343

"Took you long enough," she said. She looked closer

at them, wrinkled her nose. "Gah, what have you been

swimming in? You smell like that stuff Lando tried to

feed us. And you look like it, too."

"The ship broke down," Luke said. "So we had to

take a shortcut through the sewer."

Both of them glanced at Lando.

"It was not my fault about the ship," Lando said.

"It was Han's modification!"

"Never mind. Let's get out of here."

Now five, they ran.

"Master Luke?"

"What is it now, Threepio?"

"We appear to have caught the attention of a

robotic police vessel. It seems to be following us."

"Well, lose it."

"How, Master Luke?" ,

"Fly like Han does."

As she ran next to him, Leia's eyes went wide.

"You're letting the droids fly the ship? Are you crazy?"

"They're doing all right. Just a few jitters, that's all.

They're really doing quite well."

"No, shut up, Artoo!" Threepio said. "You heard

what Master Luke said. I'll just loop around, whoa—

yaahh!"

Artoo's whistles and squeals sounded even more

frantic.

"Master Luke! Help! Help!"

"Threepio, what are you doing?"

Artoo's whistles sounded like a recording played at

ultrahigh speed.

"I'm trying to turn it right side up! Be quiet. Ahh!"

"Sounds as if they are upside down," Lando said.

" 'Doing all right,' you said," Leia said. "I can't believe

you let them fly the ship."

"Threepio, do what Artoo tells you! Artoo, show

him how to pull out of the loop!"

344 STAR WARS

There came another exchange of squeals and nervous

chatter over the comlink.

"Ah, that's better. We seem to have lost the pursuer,

Master Luke. I believe it smashed into that walkway

we flew under while we were upside down."

"I can't believe you let the droids fly the—"

Luke glared at her. "Will you stop saying that?" He

looked back at the comlink. "All right, you two, get to

the coordinates like I said. And be more careful."

"We're doing quite well now, Master Luke. Don't

worry."

Luke stared up at the ceiling and sighed.

38

I'll sound the general alarm—" Guri said.

"No! How would that look? The head of Black Sun

allows his security to be breached? Tell the perimeter

guards to watch their backs—whoever got in had better

not get out."

Guri nodded and spoke into her comlink.

They hurried down the corridor past the room from

which Leia had escaped. There was a surveillance

nexus, a substation not far ahead, where they could

access the feed and see holograms of the holocam input.

They would stop there and spot the intruders, who

were inside the camnet once they ascended from the

basement.

They arrived at the node. Guri tapped commands

into an old-fashioned keypad. An image of Xizor's personal

logo appeared in the air. She tapped in her security

ID code, changed the reader from pad to vox

access. "Display level fifteen, anybody not wearing an

employee uniform."

346 STAR WA R S

The image broke into a million tiny dots, swirled

like water going down a drain, then went blank.

Xizor frowned. Tapped his forehead with the blaster

he held.

"Where is the image?" Guri asked the computer.

"Holocam and sensor feed on level fifteen are currently

nonoperational."

"Display level sixteen."

Again, the image stayed blank.

"Display level seventeen."

The same.

"Display level eighteen."

The air swirled, and a multiple scan of empty hallways

and rooms blinked into ghostly images.

"They are on seventeen," Xizor said.

Guri looked at him.

He waved the blaster at the images. "They're blowing

out the breakers so we won't see them. If they'd

gotten to eighteen yet, that floor would also be gone.

Come on."

"We don't know how many of them there are," Guri

said. "We've lost at least a dozen guards. It is too dangerous

for you to go there."

"I will be the judge of what is too dangerous," he

said. "And since we know it is Skywalker, this is where

it ends. I will dispatch him personally!"

He would not be embarrassed in his own castle.

So what . . . is . . . the plan?" Leia said, breathless.

"We get out of here," Luke said. "Get to the Falcon

and get offworld as fast as we can." As if to head off

her much-repeated amazement, he said, "Threepio and

Artoo can do it."

She shook her head.

Chewie said something, and Leia guessed that the

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 347

Wookiee wasn't too pleased with their new pilots, either.

"Listen," Lando said, "if we don't get out of here, it

doesn't matter who is flying what. Come on."

Leia nodded. Lando had a good grasp of the situation.

Dash said, "The man is right."

Luke said, "Nobody will think we're stupid enough

to go up. They'll look for us to try and leave at ground

level."

Lando laughed. "Yeah, that's the problem with our

opposition—they keep thinking nobody could possibly

be as stupid as we are. Fools 'em every time."

Leia shook her head again. She now carried a blaster

somebody had taken from one of the fallen guards

along the way, and that made her feel a little better.

Not much better, but a little. She'd seen enough of

Xizor to realize that if they couldn't escape, it would be

better if he didn't take them alive. Beneath that charming

facade lurked a monster, and she had no intention

of falling into his hands again.

Aizor and Guri stepped into the turbolift. "Level

twenty," Xizor ordered. "We'll wait for them there."

The turbolift dropped, gave him a moment of free

fall that fluttered in his belly like a trapped bird trying

to escape. Despite the anger he felt at being invaded,

there was a sense of excitement about all this. It wasn't

very often he got to dispatch people with his own

hands. He was certain that the castle-breakers included

Luke Skywalker. For daring to get this far, he would

take particular pleasure in killing the boy.

He took a deep breath, exhaled part of it, fought for

control. It was not seemly to allow his emotions such

free play. Then again, there was no one here but Guri

and his staff. He didn't care what she thought, and his

guards were going to be replaced to a man after this

348 STAR WARS

was over. Failure of one was, as far as Xizor was concerned,

failure of all. And those other than foot soldiers

—the supervisors—would find their dismissals particularly

painful.

The turbolift slowed. His weight seemed to increase

as the floor of the lift pressed harder against the soles

of his boots.

"Level twenty," the turbolift announced.

The door slid wide.

Xizor raised the blaster to point at the ceiling next

to his right ear in a ready-carry position. He spent a

few hours a week practicing at his personal firing

range. He was an excellent shot.

Guri bore no weapon; though she also excelled at

marksmanship, she seldom needed to use a blaster.

They stepped out into the corridor.

Level twenty," Dash said. "Stairs end here, we'll

have to zip in and find another set."

"How many levels are in this place?"

"As I recall, a hundred and two aboveground."

"Oh, man," Lando said. "And we have to go all the

way to the roof?"

"No, there's a landing pad extending out from level

fifty," Luke said.

"That's nothing. Another thirty flights, we won't

even be breathing hard," Dash said.

"I can barely breathe now," Lando said.

"You're getting old, Calrissian."

"Yeah, and I'd like to get a lot older, too."

"There should be another set of stairs across the hall

and down about sixty meters," Luke said. "Let's

move."

They moved.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 349

Aizor saw them first because Guri was opening a side

door looking to see if they were already here and hiding.

Five of them, Leia included. The Wookiee was

there—he should have expected him to come back for

her—and three men. One of them was dark-skinned;

that would be the gambler. Another one was not somebody

he recognized, and the third was Skywalker.

The Dark Prince smiled. Turned sideways, lowered

his blaster, and extended it one-handed, his free hand

on his opposite hip, just as if he were shooting targets

in a sanctioned competition. Lined his sights up on

Skywalker's left eye, let out half his breath, held it,

squeezed the trigger gently . . .

Luke spotted the tall alien just as he brought his

blaster to bear.

Uh-oh. Looked like the guy had spent a lot of time

at the range.

He jerked his lightsaber from his belt, flicked it on,

and let the Force claim him—

The deadly lance of energy rocketed at Luke—

His lightsaber came across, an inward move, and

stopped as if by its own volition in front of his face,

blocking the view from his left eye—

He felt the impact as the energy of his blade deflected

the energy of the incoming bolt. It would have

hit him right in the eye—

The alien fired again—

Again the lightsaber moved, directed by the Force.

Another beam splashed harmlessly against the handmade

Jedi weapon and bounced back and down, hit the

floor, and burned through—

Aizor frowned. How could he do that? He couldn't

be that fast!

He fired again—

350 STAR WARS

Guri leaped out into the corridor. She held a chair, a

heavy metal thing with casters on the bottom. She

hurled it down the hallway as if it weighed no more

than a pebble

Look out!" Luke yelled.

A chair pinwheeled at him. He couldn't use his saber

to cut it down, and risk another bolt from the

shooter—

Chewie stepped forward, level with Luke, brought

his bowcaster up, fired—

The chair exploded into shrapnel and sprayed them

with a prickly hail—

Leia saw Xizor and Guri in front of them. She

snapped her borrowed blaster up and fired. Saw immediately

that she was too high, tried to lower her

sights—

Aizor realized two things: He was outgunned, and

Skywalker could stop his fire. He was more startled

than afraid, but he knew he had to get out of the hall

fast. "Move!" he yelled at Guri.

She stepped in front of him and blocked him from

the five down the hall as he stepped into the empty

room from where she'd gotten the chair. A second later

she joined him.

"That's an interesting trick he does with that lightsaber,"

Xizor observed.

"He is related to Vader," she said. "Shall I call the

guards now?"

He sighed. "Call them."

She was already speaking into her comlink.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 351

"That was Xizor!" Leia yelled.

"Good. Let's get him!" Luke yelled back.

"I don't think so," Lando said. "Look!"

A dozen guards rounded the far end of the corridor

and started shooting.

"In there!" Dash yelled.

There was a door to their left. Chewie opened it by

smashing through it. Leia followed him, Lando and

Dash behind her. Luke went last, blocking and batting

aside beams that zipped at them like angry hornets.

Inside the room, some kind of office, they looked at

each other.

"Now what?" Leia said.

Blaster bolts continued to whiz past the destroyed

doorway.

Lando looked at Luke, who nodded. "Well," Lando

said, "it's time for desperate measures." He reached

into the small backpack he wore and came out with a

round, silvery ball about the size of a man's fist. There

were some controls, a finger-wide slot around the ball's

equator and what looked like some kind of electronic

diode on the top and in the slot.

Leia looked at the shiny ball, then at Luke. He nodded

at Dash.

More blaster bolts sizzled past. They apparently

hadn't noticed out there yet nobody was shooting back.

Dash took the ball from Lando. "It's a thermal detonator,"

he said. "Lando's got three of them. They run

on a timer or a deadman's switch. Flip that switch right

there, press that button in and hold it. If you let go

without disarming the deadman's switch first, it goes

off."

"And does what, exactly?"

"Makes a small thermonuclear fusion reaction."

"A small thermonuclear fusion reaction," she said.

"Yeah, just enough to vaporize a good-size chunk of

whatever is next to it."

"I see. That includes us if it goes off in here, right?"

352 STAR WAR S

"Right. But we're betting your friend the leader of

Black Sun won't want us to trigger it while he's

around, not to mention what it would do to his castle."

She nodded. "Let me see it."

Dash's eyes went wide. Luke nodded at him.

Leia took the device, examined it. "And if you don't

use the deadman's switch?"

"It runs on a timer. The default setting is five minutes.

If you lock it in, here, once the timer starts, nobody

can turn it off."

"Got it." She hefted the metal ball, then tucked it

inside the bounty hunter's helmet hooked to her belt.

The males all looked at each other. Luke said, "Uh,

Leia . . . "

"You said you had more of them, right? I want to

hang on to this one. It might come in handy."

Luke shrugged. "Okay. We bought it with your

money anyhow."

The blaster bolts outside the doorway stopped.

"I guess we'd better have a little talk with Xizor,"

Luke said.

Lando handed him another of the thermal detonators.

Luke touched the controls. The device started

making a beeping sound. Tiny lights winked on and

off.

Luke took a deep breath.

Aizor moved out into the hall behind the dozen or so

guards who moved toward an open door across from

where he and Guri had ducked.

He heard a small noise, a repetitive beep. What was

that?

Skywalker stepped out into the hall. The guards

pointed their blasters, but the boy didn't have his lightsaber

in hand. Instead, he held some kind of small device—

Xizor had not always been an armchair commander.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 353

He had paid his dues in head-knocking and strongarm

work, and he knew a bomb when he saw one.

"Don't shoot!" he yelled. "Lower your weapons!"

The guards looked at him as if he had gone mad, but

they obeyed.

"Good idea," Luke said.

The other intruders and Leia moved out into the hall

behind Skywalker.

The beep was suddenly very loud in the silence. Tiny

lights blinked on the device.

"You know what this is?" Skywalker said.

"I have a pretty good idea," Xizor said.

"It's rigged with a deadman's switch," Luke said. "If

I let it go . . ."

There was no need to finish that sentence.

"What do you want?"

"To leave. My friends and I."

"If you release the bomb, you'll die. So will your

friends." He glanced at Leia. That would be such a

waste.

The boy shrugged. "Like it stands, we're dead anyway.

We have nothing to lose. How about you? You

ready to give all this up?" He waved at the building

around them. "This is a Class-A thermal detonator,

you know what that means?"

Some of the guards knew, to judge from the sudden

intakes of breath and muttered curses.

"I think you're bluffing."

"Only one way to find out. Your move."

Xizor thought about it. If the boy wasn't bluffing

and somebody shot him, a Class-A TD would take out;

several floors of this building in a heartbeat. With that

many of the support girders erased, the eighty-odd stories

above would collapse. The structure might topple

like a logged tree, to smash into the streets below. Or it

might telescope straight down and flatten whatever

base remained. Either way, the castle would be a total

loss—as would anybody trapped inside it.

354 STAR WARS

He could build another castle. But if the bomb went

off this close, he wouldn't be around to do that. Was he

willing to risk all he had worked for, his very life itself,

that Skywalker was not suicidal? He was Vader's relative,

wasn't he? Vader wouldn't bluff. And these Alliance

types had demonstrated over and over again how

brave they were against overwhelming odds.

No. He could not take the chance.

"All right. Leave. Nobody will stop you."

Alive, he would be able to chase them down. Dead,

well, dead was dead.

Four of them edged past the guards, who nearly fell

over themselves trying to get out of the way, as if a few

meters would make any difference. Fools.

Skywalker stood facing him alone.

Xizor watched the others walk away. Maybe Guri

could move fast enough to grab the thing before it exploded—

Where was Guri?

Maybe he could try a bluff, Xizor thought. To

Skywalker, he said, "You've caused me a great deal of

trouble."

"That's too bad," the boy said. "You had it coming."

"I could still shoot you."

"You could try." He still held the lightsaber. He

flicked it on, held it loosely in one hand.

"I could shoot one of the others. Your friend the

Wookiee. Or the princess."

"We'd all be vapor before he hit the floor. You included."

It was a standoff, and Skywalker knew it.

Xizor looked around. Suddenly the four stopped.

The dark man reached into his pack and produced another

shining ball.

Xizor smirked, said, "What's the point of that? You

can't blow us up any more with two of those."

The dark man grinned. There was a garbage chute

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 355

next to him, and he opened it. It led to the recycling

bins in the sub-subbasement. He flipped a control on

the device. It started beeping and flashing—

Xizor had an awful premonition. He yelled, "No!"

But the man tossed the bomb into the chute.

"You have five minutes to leave the building," the

dark man said. "If I were you I'd get moving."

Xizor spun, faced his guards. "Get to the turbolifts,

get to the basement, and find that device! Get it out of

here!"

But he was wasting his time. The guards panicked.

They broke and ran, yelling frantically. They nearly

knocked him over.

By the time he'd recovered, Skywalker and Leia and

the others had gone, and the guards were hurrying to

do the same.

Blast!

In five minutes, Xizor's castle was going to be destroyed.

Xizor ran, too. He had a private express turbolift. If

he hurried, he'd have plenty of time to get to his personal

ship and get clear.

His emotions raged uncontrolled. A cold fire cooked

his reason into deadly anger. He would get his ship and

he would follow them—to the end of the whole galaxy

if he had to.

Then they were going to pay for this with their lives.

39

They took the lift and told it to hurry. Less than a

minute later, they were on level fifty. During the trip,

Luke shut the thermal detonator off and gave it back to

Lando. It wasn't likely Xizor would have much luck

getting guards to chase them now. Anybody with half a

working brain would be heading for the nearest exit,

especially given the alarms blaring so loud it was hard

to think. Probably one of the outgoing guards had

tripped the warning hooter.

They should have plenty of time to make their own

escape—

If Threepio and Artoo had gotten there.

If not, they weren't going to have long to regret it.

The doors opened, and as they exited, twenty or

thirty very excited people jammed in past them, stuffed

the lift so full there was no room left. Those people

who couldn't make it cursed or screamed or cried,

moved to the next turbolift door, and pounded on the

call button.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 357

"Must be quitting time," Dash observed.

"They have four whole minutes," Lando said, his

voice dry. "Better hurry."

"That's cold," Luke said.

"They should have thought about that when they:

decided to go to work for Black Sun," Lando said. "It's,

a high-risk operation, being a crook."

"The landing pad ought to be that way," Dash said.

"Come on."

There didn't seem to be many people left in the hall.

As they watched, another turbolift arrived, and what

room there was—it was already half full of people, presumably

from floors higher up—was quickly taken.

When the doors closed, the five of them appeared to be

alone.

They hurried in the direction Dash remembered was

the right one.

Fifty meters down the hall, Luke heard something.

He reached out with the Force, couldn't find anything.

He waved the others on. "Go ahead, I'll be right

there!"

They did as he said.

He pulled his lightsaber, flicked it on—

"Behold the Jedi Knight," a woman said. "The man

of legend."

He turned. The woman called Guri stood there. A

droid. Lando had described her in great detail on the

way here.

"You have caused my master much misfortune," she

said. "You should die for that."

Luke aimed the sword point at her. She didn't seem

to be carrying any kind of weapon that he could see,

but Lando had told him how fast she was. And how

strong.

"But you have that blade and I am unarmed," she

said. She held her hands away from her sides, empty

palms facing him.

He had maybe three minutes. The smart thing to do

358 STAR WARS

would be to cut her down and get moving. Or at least

herd her out of the way using his sword and head for

the rendezvous with—he hoped—the Falcon.

But—why start doing the smart thing now?

He clicked the lightsaber off, rehooked it to his belt,

made sure it was securely fastened. "What do you

want?"

"A test," she said. "My master pits himself against

the deadliest opponents he can find. There is no man

who is my equal in hand-to-hand combat. Except perhaps,

if the stories are true, a Jedi Knight."

"This building is going to blow to pieces in three

minutes," he said. "And you want to play games?"

"It won't take that long. Are you afraid to die,

Skywalker?"

Yes, of course he was—

But then, in a moment, he realized that he really

wasn't.

The Force was with him. Whatever happened, happened.

She leaped at him—

She was impossibly fast. On his own, he'd never

have dodged, but he was permeated with the Force.

He stepped to his right and kicked at her as she flew

past. Hit her on the hip and knocked her sideways, but

not off her feet.

"Good," she said.

Glad she thought so. She was supernaturally fast,

and it was only by holding to the Force that he could

begin to match her.

She circled, looked for an opening—

"Luke—!"

Leia's scream distracted him. He flicked his gaze

toward the sound of her voice, saw her and the others

turn to look at him—

It was enough for Guri. She took a long, sliding step

and punched—

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 359

Luke backpedaled, but even so, her fist hit him in

the belly hard.

"Oooff!"

She followed up with an elbow, but he dived away,

rolled and turned, came up with his hands lifted as she

darted after him—

He lost contact with the Force. He was on his

own—

She slapped him next to the ear and he went down,

dazed.

If he didn't do something fast, she was going to kill

him!

The Force. Let it work for you, Luke.

Luke heard Ben's voice calling as if from a great distance,

echoing across time and space. Yes. He managed

a breath as Guri raised her hand, formed now into a

blade instead of a fist, a grin of triumph lighting her

features—

When he blew out his air, he blew his fear out with

it.

He had to trust the Force completely—

Guri slowed, as if she were suddenly mired in thickened

time. He saw her hand descending, saw it moving

to smash him, but it was so incredibly slow, why, he

could easily just roll aside and stand, before she ever

reached him . . .

He did so. He felt as if he were moving at normal,

speed, though there was a crackling feeling to his motion,

a sound like a strong wind whistling about his

ears.

He came up, pivoted, thrust his open palm against

the descending chop, shoved it aside. He used his left

leg, a sweep that caught Guri behind the right ankle.

Her feet left the floor, still moving in slow motion, and

she fell, floated down, hit flat on her back . . .

Time speeded up.

Leia's yell still echoed down the corridor.

Guri hit the floor. He had never heard anybody fall

360 S TAR WARS

that hard; it was a thump that shook him where he

stood.

It stunned her.

Luke pulled his lightsaber, ignited it. This droid was

deadly, too dangerous to remain in existence. He lifted

the blade.

Lying on her back, stunned, she managed to smile.

"You won fairly," she said. "Go ahead."

She would have finished you.

Time stalled again, stretched like plastic melting in a

hot fire . . .

Luke lowered the blade. Shut it off. "Come with us.

We can have you reprogrammed."

She sat up. "No. If they can find a way around my

brainblock, if somehow my memory is downloaded, it

will be fatal for me—and my master. We have much to

answer for. Better to kill me now."

"It's not your fault," he said. "You didn't program

yourself."

"I am what I am, Jedi. I don't think there can be any

salvation for me."

"Luke! Come on!"

He shook his head. "There's been enough killing,"

he said. "I'm not adding to it today." He nodded at her

once, turned and ran.

Leia watched Luke click his lightsaber off, say something

to the downed Guri, then turn and jog toward

them.

She had lost track of the time, but it had to be getting

close.

The five of them made it outside to the landing pad.

There was no sign of the Millennium Falcon.

Xizor's personal ship, the Virago, was on the top

level. Since it was always kept fueled and ready to go, it

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 361

needed no preparation. He reached the ship. With the

sounds of the emergency warning system braying over

and over, he was somewhat surprised to see the ship

guards still in place, albeit they were very nervous.

"The building is going to blow up," he said, as if

talking about the weather. "Take one of the airspeeders

and get away. You have two minutes to get clear."

The guards bowed and hurried away. Perhaps the

failure of one was not the failure of all. These two

guards would keep their jobs when this was done,

maybe even get promoted. So rare to find loyalty these

days.

He hurried onto the Virago and closed the hatch. It

would take a minute to bring all the systems online.

Thirty seconds later he would be five kilometers away

—the Virago was one of the fastest ships on the planet.

He settled into the control seat, waved his hand over

the computer sensors, and watched the screens light up.

He would fly to his skyhook. He had his own navy

stationed in and around the space station, several corvettes,

a few frigates, hundreds of rebuilt surplus fighters.

He assumed those responsible for destroying his

castle had a ship standing by to rescue them.

By the time that ship made it into orbit, his navy

would be waiting.

"All systems go," the Virago's computer said.

Good. He reached for the lift controls. More than a

minute left.

He paused for a second, looked through the viewscreen

at his castle. It was too bad about its destruction.

He had spent many good years here, and he

would miss it. But he would rebuild, a bigger, better,

more majestic place.

Until he could take over the Emperor's castle.

He touched the lift controls. The Virago rose

smoothly from the pad and away into the bright sunshine.

He was a few hundred meters away, clear enough to

362 STAR WA R S

be safe, when he saw a beat-up Corellian freighter coming

at him. The ship seemed to be out of control; it

corkscrewed on its horizontal axis, pitched and yawed.

Xizor cursed, hit his emergency boosters, and

turned. The Virago jagged to port, then jumped as if

kicked by a giant boot.

The incoming ship barely missed him.

What kind of idiot was in control of that vessel?

It didn't matter. He was safe. For a moment, he

wondered what had happened to Guri. Another loss.

Well. Life was difficult at times. The trick was to

survive—and once again, the Dark Prince had done so.

Survive, then make your enemies regret that you did.

Dash saw it first. "Mother of Madness!" he yelled,

pointing.

Luke looked up and saw the Millennium Falcon

coming in.

Coming in too fast and spinning like a demented toy

gyroscope.

As they watched, the wobbly ship straightened; at

least it stopped twirling, but it was still coming in too

fast—

"Duck!" Lando hollered.

The five of them dropped flat.

The ship almost did a touch-and-go. It pulled up no

more than a meter from the pad's deck and veered to

starboard. The wind of its passage tugged at them.

Luke glanced up in the backwash just as the Falcon's

port edge hit a Doppler sensor array and shattered it,

spraying pieces every which way.

"Threepio, I'm gonna kill you!" Lando roared.

Luke came up with the others and watched the ship

circle around. He pulled his comlink. "Threepio, cut

your drives! Bring it on the repulsors only! And hurry!"

"I'm trying, Master Luke. The controls are somewhat

sensitive."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 363

The ship hopped upward a hundred meters as if

hurled from a sling.

Artoo was going to blow a circuit, he was whistling

so fast and so loud.

The Falcon lurched, canted sideways, and fell.

Righted itself just before it would have plowed into the

roof, bounced upward on an invisible column of air.

Finally the ship lost speed. Seemed to float like a

falling leaf on a gentle breeze, then stopped and

hovered in place fifty meters above them.

Luke glanced around. Fifty meters, five thousand

meters, it was too far away. They had less than a minute

left.

"Bring it down, you fool droid!" Lando yelled.

"Too bad Leebo isn't at the controls," Dash said.

"He's a pretty good pilot."

"While you're wishing, wish that we were at the

controls," Leia said.

Standing next to the exit were what looked like two

sets of folded wings. Abruptly Luke realized what they

were: paragliders. Slip a set of those on and you could

sail down to a shorter building's top, or kilometers

away to the street. If the ship didn't get here in the next

few seconds, he was going to strap Leia into one of

those and throw her off the building. The other paraglider

would have four passengers, one of them a

Wookiee. They'd be way.too heavy, but there was a

chance it might work—he'd learned while fighting the

walkers on Hoth that he could slow a fall considerably

using the Force, and Master Yoda had taught him

more—

"Here she comes!" Dash said.

The Falcon drifted down toward them. They backed

up. The ship hovered over the landing pad two meters

up, then dropped like a stone. The landing struts

groaned but held. The belly hatch's ramp yawned wide.

"Go, go, go!" Luke yelled.

364 STAR WA R S

Chewie grabbed Leia, picked her up, and ran. Dash

and Lando were right behind, and Luke followed.

By the time Luke made it into the ship, the ramp was

already closing.

Luke followed the others toward the cockpit.

They had maybe thirty seconds left . . .

Dash got to the cockpit first, Lando and Luke right

behind him.

"Move!" Dash yelled at Threepio.

"I'm moving, I'm moving!"

Dash shoved Threepio and slid into the seat. His

hands danced over the controls.

Threepio fell into a heap against the copilot's seat.

Artoo whistled frantically.

"You don't need to be so rude, Master Dash—"

There came a deep rumble from underneath them.

The Falcon shook.

"Come on, Dash!" Lando yelled.

Luke looked through the screen, and even though

they were in grave danger, he noticed something:

One of the sets of paragliders was gone.

The ship lurched, tilted, started to slide . . .

. . . lifted . . .

"Go, go!"

The Millennium Falcon spun away. As it did, Luke

saw the building shake and the landing pad fall away,

then drop straight down, like a tower of sand with the

base kicked out. Smoke rose; a terrible screech like a

giant nail being pulled from wet wood came with the

smoke. Blasts of fire erupted skyward. Giant electrical

conduits sprayed multicolored sparks. Things exploded

and hurled shrapnel at them. The ship rocked under the

impacts—

Dash hit the thrusters, and the Falcon leaped upward—

Below, the castle of Xizor, Underlord of Black Sun,

collapsed into a heap of flaming, smoking ruin.

For once, even Lando didn't have a funny remark.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 365

Leia joined the others in the crowded cockpit.

"Let's get out of here," Luke said. "Nothing fancy,

just run as fast as we can."

"I hear you," Dash said.

Threepio got up from where he had fallen. "I

thought I flew rather well," he said.

Everybody turned to stare at the droid.

"But I don't think I would like to do it again anytime

soon," he hurried to add.

Luke shook his head, smiled, and started to chuckle.

It was an unstoppable release of nervous tension. In

a few seconds, they were all laughing except Threepio

and Artoo.

"What is so funny?" Threepio asked, indignant.

That set them off again. They'd made it. They were

safe.

Well, almost. But at least the hard part should be

over.

40

Xizor was angry and, save for the death of his family,

could not recall ever having been more so. His castle

was gone, his valuables, much of his massive information

base, all destroyed in an instant. Artifacts and

records that could not be replaced because they had no

duplicates anywhere else. Blackmail files, personal projects,

the most central secrets of Black Sun since he had

taken over, gone—just like that. It would take years to

recover, and should something happen to him, his successor

would never know much of what was missing

because he would never know it had ever existed. He

wouldn't even know who had been responsible—all of

the files on Skywalker and the princess had been in his

personal computer, and it and its backups were slag.

Whatever anger he felt, it was no longer in his voice

as Xizor called ahead to his skyhook. He had figured

out that the small Corellian freighter that had nearly

smashed into him as he leaped away from his castle

was the same one his people had been searching for.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 367

The same one that had come to rescue Skywalker

and Leia and their friends.

Perhaps it had failed in that mission. Given the way

things had been going of late, likely that was not so.

Best to be sure.

Being the head of a shipping concern had some advantages

when it came to describing ships: "There is a

dilemma-saucer-style Corellian freighter leaving the

planet shortly," he told the commander of his navy

over the comm. "It is a YT-Thirteen Hundred, a little

over twenty-five meters long, a hundred-ton capacity.

Locate it and destroy it. If you can disable it and capture

the crew and passengers, that would also be acceptable.

"If, however, it gets past, you and anybody else I

consider responsible will be fertilizer before the next

sunrise—are we perfectly clear on that?"

"Clear, my prince."

"Good." He reached for the comm switch to shut

off the transmission. "I've got you now, Skywalker."

"I beg your pardon, Highness."

"What? Nothing. Never mind."

He flipped the switch and killed the transmission.

Probably should not have mentioned Skywalker's name

that way, but it didn't matter. The opchan was scrambled.

It did not matter. He was so close to finishing this

now.

He looked at the console's timer. He should be at

the skyhook shortly.

My lord Vader, you asked to see anything regarding

this name," the officer said.

Vader stared at the man. Took the printout flimsy

from him and scanned it.

"Where did this originate?"

"An encoded transmission from the ship Virago, my

368 STAR WARS

lord, en route to the skyhook Falleen's Fist in high orbit.

The ship is registered to—"

"I know who it is registered to," Vader said. He

crumpled the thin plastic hardcopy sheet in his hand.

And though the attending officer could not see it,

Darth Vader smiled, ignoring the pain it caused.

"Prepare my shuttle," he said.

He had warned Xizor to stay away from Luke. The

criminal had chosen to ignore that order.

That was a grievous error.

As much as it was possible, Vader was delighted.

They had played Xizor's game long enough. Now they

would play his.

Dash said, "Take over, would you, Luke?"

"Sure." Luke, already in the copilot's seat, took the

controls. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere. I just need to whistle up my steed."

"What?"

Dash pulled a small black rectangular box from his

belt. "Long-range shielded single-channel comlink.

Time to have Leebo lift and put my ship into orbit. We

can rendezvous; I can borrow one of your suits—this

bucket still has vac-suits, doesn't it?—and get back to a

real ship instead of this rickety crate."

Luke smiled. "I guess we can do that."

"After that, you go your way, I'll go mine. I figure

the cleanup bill for that building down there ought to

go a long way to balancing my account with the Empire."

"You really ought to consider signing on with the

Alliance," Luke said. "You're a good man and we

could use you."

"Thanks, Luke, but I don't think so. I'm not much

of a joiner."

He tapped the command button on his specialized

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 369

comlink. "Hey, Leebo, you rust bucket, get your gears

meshing and meet me at the following coordinates."

"My master is not in at the moment. Who is calling,

please?"

"Very funny," Dash said. He looked at Luke.

"Never buy a droid programmed by a failed comedian."

Aizor's landing at the skyhook was uneventful. His

navy had already deployed. Since they had all the

proper clearances, the Imperial Navy didn't bother

them.

Xizor strode to his command center, a deck surrounded

by transparisteel plate that allowed him an almost

360-degree unimpeded view of space around the

skyhook.

He had the comm to his commander opened. A

holoproj of the man appeared. "Yes, my prince?"

"Have you deployed your vessels, Commander?"

"Yes, Highness. Our sensors have been set to detect

any ship matching the criteria you gave me. If it comes

this way, we will spot it."

"Good. Keep me informed."

The image vanished, and Xizor stared out into the

blackness of space. He had heard the buzz of conversation

when he arrived. The rumor had reached here fast,

though no one dared speak directly to him about the

disaster below. Well. No matter. He had survived

worse.

He would survive this; survive it and somehow turn

it into a victory.

Thanks for the ride," Dash said over the comm.

The Outrider hung just off the Millennium Falcon's

port bow in a matching orbit. If you had a good arm,

you could hit it with a rock, even in full gravity. Dash

370 STAR WA R S

had jetted across the short gap, complaining all the

while about how bad the borrowed suit smelled.

"Want to race to the jump spot?" Luke said. He

now sat at the controls, taking a turn piloting. Lando

sat next to him, Leia stood behind them.

Dash laughed. "You want a parsec head start?"

"No, I—"

A hard green beam of light flashed between the two

ships. The sighting ray of a big ship's cannon—you

couldn't see the laser itself in vacuum, of course, but it

followed the ionized marker you could see precisely.

Somebody was shooting at them.

"Uh-oh, looks like we got company."

More laser and charged-particle bolts blinked, none

really close. Well, no closer than a couple of meters—

Luke punched it. The Falcon jumped like a startled

hopperoo.

Lando said, "We've got an unmarked corvette coming

in at two-seventy! And four fighters at three-fivenine!

Those aren't Imperial ships! Who are these

guys?"

"Who cares?" Luke said. "We've got to move!

Chewie, the guns!"

"You heard the man, furball," Leia said. "You want

dorsal or ventral?"

Chewie harned. He and Leia disappeared.

"Good luck, Dash!" Luke yelled.

"You, too, Luke."

Luke pointed the Falcon into the deep and ran. The

ship rocked as a beam found the shields and splashed

from them.

They needed to get clear of this system, fast, and

make the jump to hyperspace.

Prince Xizor, we have located the Corellian

freighter," came the commander's voice from the

holoproj.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 371

"And . . . ?"

"We are engaging it now. It should be destroyed momentarily."

Xizor nodded. "Don't be too sure, Commander.

They seem to be extremely lucky."

"They'll need more than luck, my prince. We have

them completely surrounded. They'll need a miracle."

Xizor nodded again.

"There is a wall between us and where we need to

go," Luke said.

"So find another way," Lando said. "You want me

to fly her?"

"No."

A beam hit them, slapped them crooked. The shields

held.

Lando yelled into the comlink. "I thought you two

were supposed to be shooting back!"

Both Chewie and Leia yelled at him, but Luke was

too busy flying to pay attention to what they said. He

put the Falcon into a power climb and turned the move

into a half twist at the top of the arc, heading back the

way they'd come.

"Chewie wants to know how he's supposed to hit

anything with you looping like that," Lando said.

"How can he miss? We're surrounded! He should

hit something no matter where he shoots!"

A black shape zipped past them. The Outrider, cannons

blazing.

Ahead of the Falcon a fighter exploded.

Lando said, "See how it's done, Chewie?"

Chewie yelled something back at Lando.

Have you stopped the ship yet, Commander?"

"Not yet, Highness. They are, ah, quite skilled. And

there are two ships returning our fire. We don't have a

372 STAR WARS

transponder signal on the other one, but it is heavily

armed."

"If my navy can't defeat two ships it certainly needs

another commander," Xizor said.

"We will defeat them. Our net is closing. They are

running out of room."

The attacking ships had formed a loose hemisphere

in space. There were an awful lot of civilian freighter

and passenger ships going to and coming from the

planet, and it was all Luke could do to avoid hitting

one of them as he dodged the fighters buzzing them.

The civilians tried to get out of the way, which made

things worse. And sooner or later, the Imperial Navy

was going to wake up and probably add to the confusion.

Why they hadn't already made Luke wonder.

As he watched, one of the aggressors fired at the

Falcon. The cannon's beam struck one of those passenger

ships, punched a hole through a power converter,

and caused a bright flash as the unit shorted out. Lot of

damage, probably nobody hurt.

"Lousy shots," Lando said. "Don't care who they

hit."

Luke nodded. He had thought they might weave in

and out of the thick traffic and avoid being blasted, but

it seemed Lando was right: The bad guys didn't care

who got fried.

The attackers had them boxed. There didn't seem to

be any way out. Too bad he couldn't get to his X-wing

—though one more ship probably wouldn't be much

help.

Things looked bad. Really bad . . .

One of the attacking fighters came straight at them,

cannons winking hot plasma eyes—

The attacker exploded. The Falcon blew through the

cloud of debris. It pattered like hard rain against the

shields.

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 373

"Good shot!" Luke yelled. "Who got it, was that

you, Leia?"

"Not me," her voice came back. "I've got plenty to

worry about coming in from my side. Must have been

Chewie."

Chewie said something.

Lando said, "Chewie says he didn't get it, either."

Luke blinked. Then who did?

Over the comm: "Hey, Luke! Okay if we join your

party?"

"Wedge! What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. Dash's droid sent us a distress signal.

Sorry it took so long to get here."

Another of the unmarked attackers blossomed into a

fireball.

"Well, just don't let it happen again," Luke said. He

grinned. Now that Rogue Squadron was here, the odds

were a little better.

He swung the Falcon into a wide turn.

"There seems to be a slight problem, my prince," the

commander said.

Xizor, watching the flashes of weapons and exploding

ships from his deck, frowned. "So I noticed. Why

are your ships blowing up, Commander?"

"A squadron of X-wing fighters has joined the fray.

No more than a dozen of them. It will merely . . . delay

the inevitable."

"Are you certain, Commander?"

"We still outnumber them twenty to one, Highness.

And our frigates are standing by in case they get past

the corvettes and fighters. They cannot escape."

"Hope that you are right, Commander."

Luke did a belly-twisting power dive at almost a

ninety-degree angle to their path. A trio of fighters

374 STAR WARS

stayed with him, firing all the while. He was glad to see

the Rogues on the one hand; on the other hand, they

were losing the fight. With all the civilian traffic

around, the wheelworlds and skyhooks, the power sats,

the communications switching platforms and who

knew what else, the space around Coruscant was anything

but pure vacuum.

The comm hummed with conversations:

"I got 'em, Luke," Wedge said.

"No, let me," Dash said.

Another attacker blew up off the port side.

"That one was mine," Leia said. "You figured out

who these guys are?"

"Not yet," Luke said.

"Bet you a credit they're Xizor's."

Luke and Lando exchanged glances. Of course, that

made sense.

Not that it made any difference—

"Two coming in at one-fifty!" Lando yelled.

Luke punched it. The Millennium Falcon rocketed

away in a steep turn.

"What are you doing up there?" Leia yelled.

"Giving you a perfect setup shot," Luke yelled back.

Vader stalked the bridge of the Executor.

"How long before we can get around the planet?"

he asked.

"A few minutes, my lord," the nervous commander

answered.

"As soon as we come within range, establish communications

with the skyhook Falleen's Fist. I will

speak with Prince Xizor."

"Of course, my lord."

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 375

"I think we got problems, buddy," Dash said. His

voice was calm over the comm, but it was also resigned.

Luke nodded. "Wedge?"

"I'm afraid he's right, Luke. These guys are only soso

pilots, but there are a lot of 'em. I figure we're still

outnumbered fifteen to one, and there are a couple of

frigates who are just sitting there waiting. We don't

have room to run, don't have room to maneuver.

They're closing in and they don't care if they kill civilian

ships, either."

"Yeah," Luke said. He took a deep breath. "Well, I

guess all we can do is take as many of them with us as

we can. Unless anybody wants to surrender?"

Both Dash and Wedge laughed.

"That's what I thought. May the Force be with

you."

Luke flew as he had never flown before. He weaved,

rolled, stalled, dived, threw power turns that came

close to blacking them all out. He was giving it his best

and he had the Force helping him, but they were losing.

It would only be a matter of time.

Prince Xizor, we are starting to pick them off.

Three of the X-wings have been destroyed or disabled.

Our net is closing in. It will be only a matter of time."

Xizor nodded. Finally.

"Coming within range, Lord Vader."

"Good. Deploy your fighters."

Leia tracked the incoming fighter, fired, missed, swiveled

in the gun seat. The fighter streaked past.

Well. There was another right behind it, and more

behind that one. She lined up, fired, saw the lances of

376 STAR WARS

energy rake the attacker, saw part of a wing shatter

and spew away, saw the wounded fighter spin out of

control. There were hundreds of the blasted things, and

counting Dash and the Falcon, they were down to

what? nine, ten ships?

It looked as if Xizor was going to win after all.

Luke saw the TIE fighters screaming toward them. A

dozen, at least.

Lando said, "Uh-oh."

"Yeah, I wondered what was keeping them." Luke

looked at Lando. "Listen, thanks for everything,

Lando. You've been a good friend."

"I don't want to hear that kind of talk. I still am a

good friend."

Luke nodded, turned back to look at the TIE fighters.

There was nowhere to go; space was thick with

ships; it was like trying to fly through a hailstorm without

being hit. He took a deep breath—

Saw the TIEs flash past. Watched them take out two

of the unmarked attackers.

"Huh?" Lando said.

"Luke," came Leia's voice over the comlink, "I just

saw—"

"I know, I know. What's going on?"

Aizor heard the panic in his commander's voice:

"Highness, we're being attacked by the Imperial

Navy!"

Next to him, a communications tech waved frantically.

Xizor fixed the man with a baleful stare. "This better

be good, your life hangs in the balance."

"It—It's Lord Vader. He wants to speak to you."

Vader! He should have known!

"Put him on."

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 377

Vader's image swirled into being in front of him.

Xizor went on the offensive immediately: "Lord Vader!

Why is the Navy attacking my ships?"

There was a pause; then Vader said, "Because the

ships, under your orders, are engaging in criminal activity."

"Nonsense! My ships are trying to stop a Rebel traitor

who destroyed my castle!"

There came another pause. "You have two standard

minutes to recall your vessels," Vader said. "And to

offer yourself into my custody."

The coldness at Xizor's core blossomed uncontrolled

into an angry heat. He tried to keep his voice calm. "I

will not. I will take this up with the Emperor."

"The Emperor is not here. I speak for the Empire,

Xizor."

"Prince Xizor."

"You may keep the title—for another two minutes."

Xizor forced a confident smile. "What are you going

to do, Vader? Destroy my skyhook? You wouldn't

dare. The Emperor—"

"I warned you to stay away from Skywalker. Recall

your ships and surrender into my custody or pay the

consequences. I will risk the Emperor's displeasure."

He paused. "However, you will not be there to see it,

this time."

Xizor felt a surge of fear as the image of Vader

turned ghostly and vanished. Would he do it? Would he

fire on the skyhook?

He had less than two minutes before he found out.

He had better decide what he was going to do.

Fast.

Luke, look out!" Lando yelled.

"I see him!"

Luke put the Falcon into a steep climb, but there

were more ships looming at that angle, and he peeled

378 STAR WARS

off to starboard. The vacuum was filled with energy

flashes, debris of destroyed fighters, more ships than

he'd ever seen in such a small space. The area looked

like a nest of angry mermyns.

But—while the TIE fighters occasionally fired on the

X-wings, they seemed to be targeting the unmarked attackers.

Xizor's ships. Why? "They're on the same side,

aren't they?"

Luke didn't realize he'd spoken this aloud until

Lando said, "Thank your lucky stars for small favors.

If they're shooting at each other, they aren't shooting at

ms! Look out!"

Luke zagged, missed the incoming fighter by centimeters.

He felt a familiar disturbance in the Force then. Vader?

No time to worry about that, either. Luke put his

questions aside for later—if there was a later for them

—and concentrated on flying the Falcon.

The commander of Xizor's navy put in a frantic call

to his master. Vader listened to the decoded communication

over the speaker system.

"My prince, we are being destroyed by the attackers!

We are outnumbered and being slaughtered! I need

permission to offer our surrender! Highness?"

Vader watched the chronometer, enjoyed the time

melting away. Not much left for the Dark Prince now.

Seven seconds . . . six seconds . . . five . . .

The terrified commander kept babbling: "Prince

Xizor, please respond! We must surrender or we will be

blown to pieces! Please!"

. . . four seconds left . . . three seconds . . .

"Highness, I—" The commander's transmission

ended abruptly. One of the Imperial fighters must have

gotten him.

. . . two . . . one—

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 379

"Commander, destroy the skyhook."

One did not stay in command of Darth Vader's ship

by questioning orders. "Yes, my lord."

Darth Vader took a deep breath, painful as it was to

do so, and let it out slowly. Smiled, unseen.

Goodbye, Xizor. And good riddance.

As it happened, the Millennium Falcon was facing it

when the skyhook exploded.

Luke saw the giant Star Destroyer's powerful beam

strobe, saw it pierce the skyhook. The planetoid shattered,

blew apart, went nova, became a small star that

burned brightly for an instant before it faded, leaving

millions of glowing pieces behind.

It was a spectacular sight, for all its violence. It reminded

Luke of the explosion that had destroyed the

Death Star.

"Oh, man," Lando said softly. "They must havemade

somebody real mad."

Luke shook his head, didn't speak.

Dash said, "Heads up, boys. Follow me."

Luke blinked. "Huh?"

"Somebody just opened us an escape hatch."

"Are you crazy? We can't fly through that wreckage!"

"We don't have a choice. There are ships everywhere.

What's the matter, kid? Don't think you can do

it?"

"If you can, my droid can. Go." Luke understood

what Dash meant. It would be tricky, dangerous, but

the space around the destroyed skyhook was relatively

clear—the debris was expanding outward. If they could

avoid being holed by the stuff on the way there, it was

their best chance.

"Yeeeehaww!" somebody in Rogue Squadron yelled.

Luke laughed. He knew just how they felt.

380 STAR WARS

They headed for the debris, and it looked as if it was

going to be just fine. The good guys had triumphed!

"Look out, Dash!" Lando yelled.

Luke could hardly spare a glance, but he did. Just in

time to see a block of shattered skyhook the size of a

resiplex zero in on the Outrider.

"Dash!" Luke yelled. It was too close to avoid—

There was an actinic flare of light too bright to look

at. Luke turned away, saw Lando throw one arm up to

block the glare.

When the light faded, the Outrider had vanished.

"Oh, man," Lando said. "He—he's . . . gone."

Just like that.

The sweet taste of triumph went bitter in Luke's

mouth.

There wasn't time to worry about it now. "Brace

yourselves! This is going to be rough!"

The debris flashed around them, impacts waiting at

every turn. He was sorry about Dash—the man had

turned out to be okay after all—but he didn't want to

end up a pile of flaming rubble. He let the Force take

him and flew.

The secret Alliance base was light-years away from

Coruscant and they had barely made it—but they had

made it.

Luke stood with Leia, Lando, and Chewie, with

Threepio and Artoo behind them. The building was,

like so many of the Alliance structures, a big, cheap

prefab unit. It did boast a large transparisteel that faced

out from the surface of the asteroid into the blackness

of space. Luke stared through the thick transparisteel

into the depths of the galaxy.

"So, if Xizor was on that skyhook like our intelligence

reports say, I would guess that would put a stop

to Black Sun bounty hunters looking to kill you,"

Lando said.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 381

"There's still Vader," Leia said.

Luke looked at her, shook his head. "I don't think

Vader wants me dead. Yet, anyway. I'll deal with him

when the time comes."

They looked up to see Wedge approaching. "Got a

message for you, Luke," Wedge said, "from the

Bothans. It was for Dash, but, well . . ." He trailed

off. "Um. Anyway, that missile Dash supposedly

missed during that fracas off Kothlis? Turns out he

didn't miss."

"What?" Luke blinked at Wedge.

"Thing was one of the Empire's new diamondboron-

armored jobs. Nothing he had to throw at it

could have stopped it. The Bothans wanted him to

know."

Luke felt a lump of liquid air form in his belly. Oh,

man. Dash hadn't screwed up, but now he would never

know. How awful, to get taken out before you could

learn that you hadn't been responsible for the loss of

your comrades. And worse was the knowledge that

Luke had felt just a little bit glad—not for the deaths,

but to see the braggart Dash taken down a notch.

Oh, man.

"What are you going to do now?" Wedge said.

"We're going to get Han," Luke said. "If he isn't on

Tatooine yet, he soon will be."

"Going to dance into the Hutt's guarded palace and

get him? Just like that?" Wedge said.

"I have a plan," Luke said.

He turned and looked at the stars. Maybe he wasn't

a Master yet, but he had learned a lot.

He was a Jedi Knight, and that was enough for now.

Epilogue

In the Emperor's most private sanctum, Darth Vader

knelt before his master. He believed he had reason to

be worried.

"You defied my orders, Lord Vader."

"Yes, my master. But I hope I have not failed you."

"Get up."

Vader stood.

The Emperor favored Vader with a dark smile. "I

am not unaware that Xizor served his own ends and

that you were shrewd to have uncovered his plot. I

knew about it, of course."

Vader did not speak.

"Are we certain he is dead?"

"I do not see how he could have survived. I watched

his skyhook blown to bits."

"Just as well. Black Sun is useful, but it is also like a

chirru: Cut off its head and another will appear to replace

it." He cackled, amused at his own simile.

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE 383

"Perhaps the next leader will be equally dangerous,"

Vader said.

"No leader of Black Sun could ever be a match for

the power of the dark side."

"But what of the plot to ensnare the Rebel leaders?"

"The new Death Star will draw them in, and this

time, you and I will be there to finish this Rebellion."

Vader wanted to shake his head. As always, the Emperor

was one step ahead of him.

"Young Skywalker will be there, too. I have seen it."

Vader sighed.

"It is all proceeding exactly as I have foreseen it,

Lord Vader."

He smiled again, and Vader felt a chill touch him.

Truly there was no one in the galaxy who had control

of the dark side as did the Emperor. It was a weakness

in Vader that he could feel that fear. Some part of

Anakin Skywalker still existed in him, despite all he

had done. He would have to eliminate it or it would

eventually be his undoing.

In Ben's house on Tatooine, Luke took a deep breath

and reached for calmness. They didn't expect that

Jabba would be interested in the proposal, given what

they had learned about how nasty he was, but that was

not the point. Lando had a way in, as did Chewie and

Leia, and this should get Threepio and Artoo into the

palace. If the Hutt was willing to negotiate, it would

save a lot of trouble, but none of them really expected

it. Jabba was, according to all they'd learned, extremely

mean-spirited, and he didn't need the money. Too bad.

Oh, well. They'd just have to do things the hard

way. What else was new?

"Okay, Artoo, start recording."

Artoo bleeped.

"Greetings, Exalted One. Allow me to introduce myself.

I am Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight and friend to

384 S TAR WAR S

Captain Solo. I know that you are powerful, mighty

Jabba, and that your anger with Solo must be equally

powerful. I seek an audience with Your Greatness to

bargain for Solo's life."

That ought to be servile enough, though if what

they'd heard was true, Jabba would probably start

laughing about now. Luke paused for a moment,

caught his breath, went on:

"With your wisdom, I'm sure that we can work

out an arrangement which will be mutually beneficial

and enable us to avoid any unpleasant confrontation."

Small chance of that. But he pressed on:

"As a token of my goodwill, I present to you a gift—

these two droids."

Luke fought the grin that threatened him: No doubt

whatsoever that Threepio would be stunned to hear

this when the recording was played. Luke had considered

telling him but thought it would be better if he

didn't know. He got rattled so easily. Besides,

Threepio's surprise would help convince Jabba.

"Both are hardworking and will serve you well,"

Luke finished.

He glanced at Artoo, raised an eyebrow, and the little

droid shut his recorder off,

Leia, standing behind Artoo, shook her head. "You

think that will do it?"

Luke shrugged. "I hope so. Only one way to find

out."

She moved closer, touched his arm.

Luke said, "Hey, after all we just went through,

rescuing one beat-up old pirate ought to be easy,

right?"

She smiled. "Right."

He returned her smile. His emotions were mixed. He

didn't know how she really felt, about him or about

that beat-up old pirate, but he knew how he felt about

SHADOWS OF THE EMP IRE 385

both of them. Whatever happened, he had to do the

right thing; that was just how things were. And the

right thing here was simple, if not easy.

Hang on, Han.

We're coming for you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

STEVE PERRY is the author of dozens of science

fiction and fantasy novels, the most recent of which

is Spindoc, and numerous teleplays for a variety of

series. He lives in Oregon with his wife, who publishes

a small monthly newspaper.