Star Wars: The New Rebellion (40 page)

Mon Mothma nodded.

“Kueller contacted me. Not the government. Me. He holds my brother prisoner.”

“Have we verified that?” Mon Mothma asked.

“Luke last reported in to Yavin 4 after he had left a planet named Telti. He said he was heading toward Almania and would check in as soon as he arrived. No one has heard from him since.”

Mon Mothma let out a sigh and sank her elegant body
onto Leia’s vanity chair. “I had hoped that Kueller was bluffing.”

“He still might be,” Leia said. “Luke might be near him, and threatening him instead of imprisoned by him. We’re too far away, and we have none of our people there. We have no way to verify this.”

Mon Mothma nodded.

“It seems to me,” Leia said, “that Kueller has made this personal. He will destroy my family if he doesn’t get his way. It was only as an afterthought that he threatened the people of the New Republic.”

“Ackbar showed me a tape of the holocording,” Mon Mothma said. “It seemed that way to me as well.”

Leia sat on the edge of the bed. “I think Kueller was trained as a Jedi.”

Mon Mothma’s eyes widened. “Have you evidence of that?”

“Nothing concrete,” Leia said. “But he’s contacted me before. In ways that Luke would train his students to use. And he managed to shut off communication between me and Luke.”

“A ysalamiri would do that,” Mon Mothma said.

“Yes, and so could someone versed in the dark side.” Leia let her words hang for a moment. “There is no record of a Kueller from Almania on Yavin 4. But Luke has lost a number of students—Jedi training is hard—and it wouldn’t be inconceivable that some of them would go to the dark side.”

“But why threaten you?”

Leia frowned. This was hard to articulate. “We’re the most visible Jedi, Luke and I,” she said. “Luke has brought back the Jedi Knights, and I am raising new Jedi. Luke has shown again and again that his powers will defeat someone strong in the dark side.”

“But if Kueller destroys you, he scatters the Jedi, and becomes the strongest in the Force in the galaxy.”

“Or so he thinks,” Leia said.

“It sounds plausible.”

“Yes.” Then Leia smiled at herself. “But I am rattled. It might be much more simple than that. Kueller might misunderstand the way the New Republic works. He might think I’m an autocrat and that my word is law. Then threatening my family might get me to force my hand.”

“He doesn’t know you well, does he?” Mon Mothma said softly. “Threats to your family always make you stronger.”

Leia’s eyes burned. She rubbed at them. She didn’t want sympathy. Not yet, anyway. Later, when she had time. “In either case,” she said, choosing not to respond to Mon Mothma’s last sentence, “the solution is the same. I need to step down as Chief of State.”

Mon Mothma clasped her hands in her lap. “You can’t do that now, Leia. I have had word from my sources in the Senate. Unless you campaign, you’ll lose that no-confidence vote. They’re looking to blame someone, anyone, for that bombing, and they’ll blame Han, which means they’ll blame you.”

“I’ve thought this through,” Leia said. She rubbed her hands together, nervous habits she hadn’t used in years. “If I step down, the vote is null, right?”

“Well, technically, it’s null only if you resign, Leia. A temporary standing aside will allow the vote to go forward.”

Leia nodded. She had been afraid of that, but it didn’t matter. Luke mattered. Protecting her children mattered.

Han mattered.

For the first time since she had become head of the New Republic, she could serve her family better as a private citizen than as a public one.

“I’ll resign, then,” she said. “The vote’s called off, and
Kueller can no longer use the New Republic as his excuse for targeting my family.”

“What if he’s really after the New Republic?” Mon Mothma said.

“Then we’ll find out. He’ll threaten something else. But I’ll wager he doesn’t know as much about the other leaders of our government. I’ll wager my resignation throws him into a panic.”

“You’re probably right.”

Leia licked her lips, then turned. “I want you to take my place.”

“I’m no longer an elected official,” Mon Mothma said.

“You weren’t one when you restarted the Provisional Council, either,” Leia said. “We have no proviso other than elections for a situation like this. We just had emergency elections. We don’t need another. I want you to step in. No one will fight you. You’re too respected for that.”

“A few days ago, someone could have said that about you.”

Leia shook her head. “The opposition to my government began when the Imperials were elected to the Senate. This isn’t really a surprise to me, much as it hurts. Everyone loses power eventually.”

“This new Senate isn’t going to stand for a leader arbitrarily chosen.”

“Probably not,” Leia said. “But you can convince them of the crisis. Set a date for an election, and say you’re stepping in until then. I’ll turn over my government to you in a formal recorded presentation.”

“Recorded, Leia? Why not hold a special session tomorrow?”

“Because,” Leia said, “I won’t have time.”

Mon Mothma tilted her regal head. “What are you planning, my child?”

Leia met her gaze squarely. “I’m going after my brother.”

Skip 6 was shaped like a giant seething mud hole, floating in the middle of the asteroid belt. The top of the Skip oozed slime along its surface, leaving particles on its ride through space. Landing the
Falcon
there would have been impossible. But Han hadn’t brought the
Falcon
. Instead, he had appealed to Sinewy Ana Blue’s conscience (or what was left of it) and got to use her Skipper.

Smugglers who spent a lot of time in the Run built ships perfect for the asteroid belt. They were small, narrow vehicles that didn’t carry a lot of cargo, but helped smugglers move from place to place. The ships could land on any surface, including mud, and could take off in most conditions, even the constant swirling rock storms around Skip 52.

Blue’s ship had been specially modified for her personal needs. It had a wider cargo bay than most, and larger crew quarters. Still, it was a landspeeder compared to the
Falcon
. Chewie had to bend double just to fit inside.

The fit was tight for all of them. Han had brought Zeen, Kid, Wynni, and Chewie. Blue came, she said, because she had hated giving Lando to those Reks. Han had to badger Zeen and Kid (at blaster point) into remembering how much they owed Lando. (Including all the new furnishings in their personal rooms. Lando could fight to refit the
Lady Luck
if and when he returned from his rendezvous with Nandreeson.) Wynni came because Chewie was along. Chewbacca had complained about that, but Han warned him to put up with it. Rescuing Lando came first. Dealing with unwanted romance was second.

Still, as Han was pressed against the unfinished metal wall of Blue’s Skipper, he wondered if he had made the right decision. He couldn’t breathe through the two pelts of Wookiee fur in front of him, and he couldn’t see over Wynni’s back. The crew quarters, about the size of the
Falcon
’s head, stank of sweaty humans and excited Wookiee. The heat was intolerable.

Blue had landed the Skipper delicately in the mud swamp. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had landed hard. They were packed in so tight that nothing short of an explosion would free them. To make matters worse, it took her a long time to open the crew door.

Zeen and Kid staggered out, but Wynni was holding Chewbacca back. He was trying to shake her off.

“Wynni,” Han said in his driest voice. “You might want to wait for some privacy.”

Her fur stood instantly on end, the Wookiee version of a blush. She let go of Chewie’s arm and he ran out of the room as fast as a doubled-over Wookiee could move.

Wynni roared at Han, and he shrugged. “I’m not trying to interfere with romance, Wyn,” he said. “But Chewie has a mate, and I just want to get Lando out in one piece.”

Wynni growled about the likelihood of that. Han ignored her assessment. Wynni had never liked Lando much, but she was an artist with a bowcaster, and bowcasters seemed to have a wonderful effect on Glottalphibs.

Han had been here once before, in an encounter with Nandreeson that he had done his best to forget. This had been before the Rebellion, even before Chewie. As he and Blue had poured over a map of Skip 6 it had become clear that the Skip hadn’t changed.

There were tunnels leading to Nandreeson’s lair, but he would have those guarded. The only other entrances were mud slides. Chewie had already lodged his complaint
about those: Wookiee fur would get matted, and when it dried, it would limit his movements. Wynni had brought special suits for both of them, but she wouldn’t let Chewie get his until he agreed to let her help him remove it. He had given Han a trapped look. Han had grinned, and Chewie had growled at him. But he had agreed.

Han later promised that he would help Chewie get out of the agreement, although he wasn’t sure how.

Yet.

The Wookiees were in the cargo bay, putting on the suits. Han wished he had one too. He went to the door. The rest of the crew was already there, peering at the hole that led into the slide. Warm, wet mud bubbled around the opening. Steam rose from the sides.

“You want us to go through that?” Zeen asked.

“You’d rather face the Reks?” Han asked.

“I’d rather wait for you here.”

“There’s no guarantee Calrissian survived,” Kid said.

“Lando made Nandreeson mad for years,” Han said. “There’s no way he’ll give Lando the satisfaction of a quick, easy death.”

“Han’s right,” Blue said. “Lando hasn’t been gone that long. He’ll be alive. He may not have much of a body left, but he’ll be alive.”

“If we do this,” Zeen said, “we’ll never be able to face Nandreeson again.”

“Is that a problem?” Han asked.

“I just don’t want the scaly butcher to come after me,” Zeen said.

“If he comes after anyone,” Kid said sweetly, “it’ll be our dear Sinewy Ana Blue. It’s her ship we’ve landed on this mud hole.”

“Thanks,” Blue said. “That means Han and I are going. You guys better come too. Your life would be miserable without me.”

“It would certainly be less interesting,” Zeen said.

“And probably safer,” Kid said.

Chewbacca roared indignantly from the cargo bay. Two large hairy paws grasped the edge of the bay and levered Chewie out. He looked like a giant baby trussed up in the naming clothes Leia had insisted on using for the children, only his was silver and had no lace. His fur was combed back and hidden in the outfit’s hood. Ties around the neck, wrists, and ankles were done so tightly that Han grinned.

“If I put helium into that outfit, will you turn into a giant Wookiee balloon?” he asked.

Chewie snarled. His mood was bad just from the proximity of Wynni. Han’s jokes wouldn’t make it any better.

“Charming look, Chewbacca,” Blue said. “A bit overdone, don’t you think?”

Chewie growled again, and reached for the hood.

“No,” Han said. “I don’t care what indignities you have to suffer. You leave that thing on. Put the face mask down.”

Chewie shook his head.

“Put it down, Chewie. You want to be able to see, don’t you?”

Chewie growled.

Han put up his hands, in a submissive/protective gesture. “Okay, okay. No need to get testy about it. It’s your fur, and your decision.”

“The bowcaster is wrapped, just like you requested,” Zeen said, handing it to him. “I’ve got Wynni’s here too. Where’s she?”

She growled from below.

Han suppressed a grin. “What did you do to her, Chewie?”

Chewie shrugged, took his bowcaster, and slung it
over his shoulder. The weapon itself was protected, but the strap remained.

Blue pushed past him and looked into the cargo bay. “Chewbacca! That’s not funny. Untie her.”

Chewie gave Han a pitiful glance.

“We need her, pal. Sorry.”

Chewie pressed the button beside the bay. The floor rose, slowly, revealing a pink package of female Wookiee, face mask down, arms wrapped around her chest in a mock hug, the wrist ties holding her hands behind her like rope. Her legs were crossed and tied together at the ankles.

She was cursing, the mask poofing with each breath, the Wookiee words coarser than anything Chewie had ever used, even under extreme duress.

Blue went behind her to untie her.

“Wait!” Han said.

He yanked up her face mask. Her blue eyes were narrow. She cursed him, his ancestors, his wife, his children, and his ship.

“Watch it,” Han said. “No one talks about the
Falcon
that way. Not in my presence.”

Wynni snarled. Blue shoved her from behind. “If you want out of this, you’d better shut up.”

“Promise to leave Chewie alone, and we’ll untie you,” Han said.

Wynni clamped her muzzle shut.

“Promise,” Blue hissed.

Wynni nodded once.

“Chewie, you promise to leave Wynni alone,” Han said.

Chewbacca howled.

“Promise,” Han repeated.

Chewie crossed his arms, straining the fabric over his shoulders. He growled.