Star Wars: The New Rebellion (49 page)

“But these droids. The ones that blew. Where were they stolen from?”

She raised her gaze to him as if he should have figured it out. As if he should have known. And he was afraid he did know, but he waited for her to say it anyway.

“Coruscant,” she whispered. “They were stolen from Coruscant.”

T
he fleet continued moving forward. Kueller watched it on his screens, saying nothing. The room was dimly lit, the only true light coming from the screens and the lamps at the workstations. The dome showed the silent night sky. Hard to believe he would easily win a battle up there in a matter of moments.

Yanne had given the order. Kueller had watched the serial numbers scroll on his remote.

Too much time had passed.

At first he wondered if the fleet was moving forward on momentum. Then he realized, as the wave of cold and death failed to wash over him, that nothing had happened.

“Yanne,” he said to his assistant, figuring a double check was necessary. “Did you give the order?”

“Yes, sir.”

The wave hit, finally, terrifyingly chill and weak, as if it had come from a long distance. It was oddly prolonged: a few deaths, then a few more, and then a few after that. He raised his arms, felt the power surge in him, but there was no satisfaction in it. The droids he
had designed especially for the Coruscant fleet were somehow somewhere else.

Slowly he lowered his arms. Yanne was watching him curiously, as if he had never seen him before. Kueller was tempted to pick the old man up and break his thin neck as a sign of power. But he knew that would gain him nothing.

The ships were growing closer, ever closer. Too many of them. If he let them get too close, they would destroy Almania.

“I’ve deployed our ships,” Yanne said.

“Good,” Kueller said, ignoring Yanne’s triumphant tone. The little man wanted Kueller to lose, wanted Kueller to be defeated. But Kueller wouldn’t be. I want the Imperial warships to be the first thing they see. I want them to think they’re still fighting the Empire.”

“Won’t that give them a psychological advantage, sir?”

Kueller smiled. “A psychological disadvantage, Yanne. The Empire becomes the enemy that never dies. They’ll use strategies with the Empire they’d never use with us.”

“And that’s to our advantage?”

“Keeping the true nature of our attack hidden is always to our advantage.” He leaned forward. “I will conduct the battle from here. I want you to discover what went wrong. Why our weapon didn’t work.”

“You relied too much on that one weapon,” Yanne said.

Kueller shook his head. “The droids exploded, Yanne. But they exploded somewhere else. I want you to let me know where the damage occurred, and what happened on this fleet.”

Yanne watched him a moment. Kueller glowered at him. Finally, Yanne said, “Yes, sir.”

His attitude needed work. He was a competent man who was about to walk the road that Femon died upon.
But because he had served Kueller so well, he deserved a warning.

A symbolic warning.

Kueller raised a hand, and clenched it.

Yanne brought a hand to his throat. He was gagging, his tongue out, his eyes wide.

Kueller let go.

Yanne dropped to his knees, and remained there, gasping.

“You need to remember, my friend, that I am more powerful than you, and always will be.”

“I … have never … forgotten … that, milord …”

“Your attitude tells me otherwise. I value your opinion and your ideas. See that I don’t lose the wisdom of your council.”

“Yes … sir.” Yanne brought himself slowly to his feet. His neck carried bruises where Kueller’s imaginary hand had been. “I … shall endeavor … to … prevent the … loss.”

“Excellent.” Kueller turned his back on Yanne. “Carry out your orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kueller felt Yanne stare at him a moment before leaving the room. When Yanne was gone, Kueller signaled one of the guards to him.

She bowed her head, clearly frightened. “Yes, milord?”

“Bring Gant to me.”

“Yes, milord.” She clicked her heels and disappeared.

Gant wasn’t nearly as talented as Yanne, and he didn’t even fall into the same category as Femon. Neither of them did. But Gant would be Kueller’s next choice for an advisor. Best to start training him now. Kueller had a feeling that Yanne wouldn’t be with him much longer.

This time the cold felt as if someone were pelting her with ice cubes. With a shaking hand, Leia put
Alderaan
on automatic, amazed that she was able to do that much as she felt death all around her. This wave wasn’t as strong, but it lasted longer, which made it even more terrifying.

She couldn’t pinpoint its location, but the feelings were the same: sudden shock and betrayal, followed by fear, and then nothing, except a broad expanse of chill.

She braced herself to see Kueller’s face, but surprisingly, it didn’t surface this time. Instead, she felt Luke.

It was a small sense: one of great pain and great effort, but it was a sense all the same. Luke was alive.

He was alive.

She reached for him.
Luke?

And got no response. But instead of being discouraged, she was heartened. At least she hadn’t hit that white wall she had hit before.

He was alive.

She swallowed. They were entering the Almanian sector. Soon the fleet would show on whatever kind of monitoring equipment Kueller had. Her time would be limited, and she would have to act quickly.

She was still alone in the cockpit. She had kept the military personnel out with the promise of allowing them to help once the battle started. By now, she should have felt tired, but she was curiously elated. She loved this feeling. She had had it several times in her life. The first was the day she met Han. After the experience with the interrogation droid, after watching Alderaan shatter, after losing everything, she should never have been able to run through those corridors, blast her way into that garbage bin, and shoot her way to the
Falcon
. But she did.

Han called it a core of strength within her, but it was
more than that. No matter what, she would never give up. She would win and take risks just as Han did. She had proven that when she had sent the fleets to Koornacht the year before.

Now she would have to do it again.

Only this time, it was her own life she gambled with. Hers and Luke’s.

She just hoped she would be able to contact him before she reached Almania. Her plan depended on knowing where to find him.

Almost as if it heard her thought, a private message light appeared on the controls before her. It had come on the channel she used with Luke, a private channel that they had relied on ever since she had gotten the
Alderaan
.

She shut off any speakers to the rest of the ship, then ordered the computer to play the message for her.

She glanced at the screen.

CODED, IT READ, FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
.

She acknowledged the coding. The
Alderaan
knew who she was. No need for a retinal scan. The computer skipped all of the preliminaries and went straight to the message.

IT IS IN BINARY. DO YOU WANT ME TO TRANSLATE?

Luke had never sent a message in binary before. But she didn’t know his circumstances. This might be the best way for him to reach her.

She asked the computer to translate and waited until the message scrolled onto the screen.

NEW-MODEL DROIDS DANGEROUS. TO BE SAFE, SHUT DOWN ALL DROIDS. REPEAT. NEW-MODEL DROIDS DANGEROUS. TO BE SAFE, SHUT DOWN ALL DROIDS
.

There was no signature. But the message continued to scroll, repeating over and over.

Leia studied the message. It made no sense. If Luke was in the kind of trouble she believed him to be in, he
wouldn’t have sent a message like that. Unless it was another code.

Or unless it was true.

She shuddered, and buzzed the galley. “Lieutenant Tchiery to the cockpit, please.”

The lieutenant acknowledged her, and signed off. A moment later, he appeared in the cockpit door, his bowling-ball shape barely fitting in a door designed for humans.

She showed him the message, explained the circumstance, and asked his opinion.

He glanced at her, then at the message. “This message makes sense, President,” he said. “Given the detonators on the X-wings.”

She nodded. She had already thought of that. “How important are the droids to the fleet’s mission?”

“Important,” Tchiery said. “But we can get along without them. We aren’t using many X-wings, and we still rely on sentients for much of the shipboard work.”

“Then I want you and your team to deliver this message to the fleet.”

“I’ll leave some of the officers here.”

“No,” Leia said, hoping she hadn’t spoken too quickly. “We can’t send messages. I received this one only by virtue of the code that my brother and I had developed. If you keep two officers here, and the message was important, and something happens, we’ll always regret it. I’ll be all right for the time it will take to make the deliveries.”

“Ma’am, my orders are to take care of you.”

Leia smiled. She had suspected as much. “I’m afraid, Lieutenant, that I’ve always done quite well at taking care of myself. I’m changing your orders. Now we don’t have time for argument. I will dock with one of the nearby ships momentarily.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The lieutenant nodded to her, took the message, and left the cockpit.

She let out a deep sigh, and leaned her head against the chair. In a moment, they would all be gone. She would leave the matter of the droids in Wedge’s hands. He would know what decision to make.

And he would make it after she had gone to Almania.

Alone.

T
he strange prolonged agony from a distant system had drained his energy. Luke had sent heat, as he had before, but it took something out of him.

Luke leaned against the wall, his splinters around him. The creature remained in the other room, snuffling. A constant threat, but for the moment it left him alone.

Almost as if it knew he suffered.

He was dizzy and tired and his back still hurt, although the pain had subsided somewhat. He couldn’t feel his ankle at all, unless he stood on it. Then pain shot through his leg. Only the splint held him up. He needed water. The burns were bad enough to continually sap his strength.

Kueller wanted both of them, him and Leia.

He would have both if Luke didn’t do something about it.

Which meant getting out of there.

The creature snuffled again. Luke didn’t entirely understand the creature, either. It had clearly just eaten before Luke was placed in its cage. So was it there to hold him? Or was he to be tomorrow’s lunch?

It peeked its head around the corner. The massive face had a quizzical look to it. It held out its paw, and large drops of blood fell on the ground. Yet the creature didn’t seem angry.

But then, it hadn’t seemed angry when it had tried to swallow Luke, either. Maybe it was a big, cheerful eating machine.