The bridge of Invidious hummed with activity. The capture of the Wild Karrde had been a bit of excitement—and a test for the newly repaired Star Destroyer. The floors gleamed, the ship's systems were operating at above performance expectations, and the crew was positively giddy at the news of their recent bonus payment.
Tavira was one of them. Her agreed share of the Imperial Intelligence black budget account had been fifty percent. She had accepted no less; the Tevas-kaar could remember standing behind her as she stubbornly argued with Vorru until she achieved the sum she wanted. With the billions of credits that had now been deposited into her account, and the billions more that Vorru had promised as Eliezer secured all the discrete transactions that had been dispersed across the galaxy, she had liberally rewarded her followers, with bonuses weighted by duration of service and rank.
The Tevas-kaar hadn't received one, of course.
They were now returning to Linuri after their shakedown cruise, the large central Imperial orbital facility looming before them. They would not be returning to the repair facility—it was currently occupied by another Star Destroyer, the Agonizer, which was flanked by its two diligent Katana Dreadnaught escorts—but one of the regular docking slips, at the far end of the twenty-kilometer-long primary orbital platform. It's enormous mass dwarfed all the vessels surrounding it, even the Star Destroyers, split into multiple modular sections which could be easily modified as the pressures of war made shifting demands.
Tavira's arms were crossed confidently across her chest as she argued with a hologram of Moff Disra. The Moff was arguing back with equal fervor; his squeamishness and fear had subsided with time, and increasingly Disra's attitude was that of a doomed man who had decided that if he was going to suffer a gruesome fate, he might as well die on his feet. "I don't have time for this," he was growling at Tavira. "I'm done being blackmailed. There's nothing left to give you, anyway. Our remaining supplies are being loaded onto Agonizer and our other ships for our withdrawal."
"Withdrawal?" Tavira asked, adjusting her bandana to make herself look properly rakish. "Why are you withdrawing?"
Disra scowled. "Ukio has fallen," he said bluntly. "The Rebellion managed to breach the planetary shields somehow; information is still scarce. The Council of Moffs has decided that Linuri is no longer defensible. The base is being dismantled and our personnel withdrawn to sectors of the galaxy which are more secure."
"In other words," Tavira said dryly, "you talked the Council of Moffs into letting you flee with your tail between your legs before the big bad Rebels come."
Disra's scowl grew angrier and more dismissive. "Believe what you want, Tavira," he snarled. "I don't care anymore. I've given you everything I have to give. Right now I have more important things to worry about than you. I need to give the orders to dismantle our basing facilities, destroy whatever we can't dismantle, and dispose of our prisoners—"
"I expect you to make sure that Invidious is restocked as well as possible," Tavira interrupted. "That was our agreement."
"Spare me the threats," Disra sighed, and the monitor went dark.
Tavira turned towards him. "It seems Disra is growing somewhat uppity," she murmured, mostly to herself. "Perhaps I'll require your services soon, don't you agree, my Tevas-kaar?"
"Of course, My Lady," he said, feeling sick. He reminded himself, yet again, that the Jensaarai were sworn to her service and that he owed them more than he could possibly repay. But it was getting harder and harder to see the light in the darkness, and with each passing day it seemed his Master's disapproval cut deeper to the bone.
Well, if he had to be interrogated aboard a Star Destroyer, Talon Karrde thought, he'd seen worse. It hadn't been all that long since he'd been a prisoner of Grand Admiral Thrawn's aboard Chimaera, rescued just before interrogation by Mara and Skywalker.
Unfortunately, he held little optimism that they would ride to the rescue again. Mara was on Coruscant, keeping the Smugglers' Alliance afloat, and Skywalker would be engaged in the invasion of Ukio.
The bright side—such as there was one—was Tavira was not Thrawn. She had greeted him and his crew in Invidious' docking bay and been positively cheerful in her welcome, but Karrde hadn't missed her pair of blasters, nor the predatory gleam in the eyes of her people. Still, it was evident that she was out for herself, not an Imperial loyalist, and the price that the Empire still had on his head wasn't that high.
She had gone through a great deal of effort to capture him, though. And there was a price on his head.
To distract himself from the grating knowledge that she had his people, and that he hadn't seen them since he'd been placed in this lounge awaiting her return, he meticulously examined the possibilities. There were a myriad of them, from she wanted his services, to she hoped to co-opt the Smugglers' Alliance (she was welcome to try, it was hard enough getting smugglers to hang together even withhis leadership), to she wanted the bounty on his head, to she was in service to others who had even more mysterious motives.
The room was nice enough. Pleasant wood furnishings—treated greel wood, if he wasn't mistaken, which gave the room a pleasant, welcoming feeling when combined with the mildly colored lights and the radiating patterns on the carpet—started with a quartet of comfortable chairs, surrounding a small, square table, large enough for datapads and drinks but little else. Pictures decorated each of the walls: a waterfall and a mountain camouflaging the door, with landscapes and a cityscape on the other three walls.
This was worse than Chimaera had been. Then, he'd known what Thrawn wanted—and he'd been alone. Tavira had him, he didn't know her motives… and she had his crew. Chin, Dankin, and Faughn had been taken with him this time, and while he trusted them to be able to look out for their own interests (even if that meant selling him out), it was possible they were mere bargaining chips to her.
Expendable.
His people were not expendable. His people were never expendable.
There was a polite knock on the door. Karrde lifted an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, doing his best to look comfortable. "Ah, come in," he said.
A man in a steward's uniform entered with a platter. He placed coasters down on the table, one in front of Karrde and one across from him, then placed a large pot of steaming caf between the two on a third coaster. A second steward entered and put down a small selection of appetizers. Then he bowed low, his hands behind his back. "The Moff will be with you in a minute, Master Trader Karrde."
"I appreciate the hospitality," Karrde said smoothly. He wasn't sure the game that was being played here, but he might as well play it.
The steward turned and exited, closing the door quietly behind them. Karrde picked up his caf, smelled it, then put it back down on the delicate finery. Glancing at the door, he leaned forward and swapped the two cups of caf. He didn't really think they were poisoned, but it would be interesting to see if that brought any reaction from his captors.
He waited another two minutes, and then there was another knock on the door. "Come in," he called, feeling mildly ridiculous.
It wasn't Tavira, but the man who entered was indeed wearing a Moff's uniform. It took Karrde only a moment to place him. "Moff Vorru," he said in surprise, standing. Karrde remembered Vorru from years before. When Karrde had been a younger lieutenant in an organization that belonged to Jorj Car'das, Vorru had been aprominent figure in the smuggling world. Corellia had been a haven to smugglers then largely thanks to Vorru, and there were many in the Fringe that still missed and celebrated that period of time.
"Master Trader Karrde," the Moff replied, extending his hand. Karrde took it, receiving a firm handshake. "Before we get down to business, I wanted to congratulate you. You've come a long way from your time as Car'das' lieutenant. You picked up the pieces that fell after Jabba's death, avoided the wrath of the Hutt cartels, and now have formed the Smugglers' Alliance." Vorru gestured at the table, then took the seat across from Karrde, placing a datapad down on the table. Vorru unhesitatingly took the cup of caf and sipped it, then placed it back down. "The Smugglers' Alliance is a masterful capstone to a long career," Vorru said, his gaze on Karrde with the predatory instincts of a Drayberian hawk.
"I'm not planning to retire just yet," Karrde replied. "Unless you know something I don't."
Vorru chuckled. "I believe I met an associate of yours the other day," he said, sipping his caf. "I was on Coruscant, infiltrating an old Imperial facility." He smiled thinly. "There were certain resources the Empire had hidden away that I wanted to return to their rightful owner," he explained casually, holding the cup in both hands. His gaze sharpened. "I wasn't expecting to be interrupted by a lightsaber wielder."
Karrde froze. If he'd been holding his cup of caf the sudden tension would have been unmistakable from his grip. As it was, he managed to prevent any reaction beyond a tightening of his jaw and digging his fingers into his thigh. "A lightsaber wielder?" he asked politely.
"I'm still not completely certain how your Miss Jade managed to find me," Vorru answered his unspoken question. "I assume that you somehow discovered my escape from Kessel—an informant, perhaps. It is possible you have Doole on your payroll, despite your public distaste for the Spice smuggling business—and you sent her after me to eliminate a potential rival." He sipped the caf again, and gestured at the cup sitting in front of Karrde. "It really is quite good, feel free to have some."
Karrde considered objecting to Vorru's erroneous assumptions. He and Mara had considered—briefly—attempting to build a commercial relationship with Doole and Kessel, but had ultimately decided it would go against the image they were trying to build for the Smugglers' Alliance. But it seemed wiser to let Vorru talk before volunteering any information. "If Mara had decided to make you a target," Karrde said, not moving towards the cup, "I am quite sure that you would be dead."
Vorru chuckled again. "I reached out to old contacts in the New Republic government and managed to get my hands on her NRI file." He lifted the datapad he'd placed on the table. "The Emperor's Hand. Palpatine's very own private assassin." Vorru smiled thinly. "So tell me, Karrde, how did you manage to recruit her into your service?"
Karrde watched Vorru for a long, slow moment, then picked up the cup of caf on the table before him. He took a sip; Vorru was right, it was quite good. His mind worked on the possible reasons for them to be having this conversation, the possibilities growing. Vorru's fascination with the Emperor and their somewhat one-sided rivalry was now one. "It was quite accidental, actually," he said.
"Of course it was," Vorru said, smiling despite his obvious disbelief. "She gave my own Force-strong bodyguard a close run for his money. I was impressed by her and thus—" the corner of his mouth curled in a confident smirk "—by you." He shook his head. "Palpatine's own private assassin," he murmured. "Just amazing what you've accomplished, Karrde."
"Thank you," Karrde replied. He took another sip; if the cup was poisoned he would already be feeling the effects, and the caf was quite good. "Is that why we're talking?" He wanted, badly, to ask Vorru how his crew was doing, but asking the question would betray his concern, which would only add to Dankin, Chin, and Faughn's vulnerability.
"One reason we are, yes," Vorru said. "It certainly changes the tenor of this conversation." He lifted the datapad, pressed a few buttons, then slid it across the table to Karrde.
Karrde picked it up. On the screen was bank account information, with a sum. "What is this?" he asked.
"My offer," Vorru said. His smile was gone, his expression now deadly serious. "I'm proposing an alliance."
Jorj Car'das had been the head of one of the most prosperous, innovative smuggling groups in the old days. His sudden disappearance had led to the group's fragmentation, and then to its quick reconsolidation under Car'das' lieutenant: Talon Karrde.
Karrde had always been a secretive figure. Vorru wasn't even sure what planet he was originally from; he was pretty sure Karrde wasn't Corellian, although perhaps he'd earned an honorary claim. But Vorru could recall Karrde, ever-present, always listening, always thinking, at every meeting he'd had with Car'das. Karrde didn't have the ruthlessness or occasional ferocity that Car'das did, but he had an intelligence and confident savvy that had always impressed Vorru.
The expression on Karrde's face—one of clear, unambiguous surprise—was incredibly satisfying. "An alliance?" Karrde asked slowly. He put the datapad down slowly, then took another sip of caf. Vorru was willing to let the other man process the sudden, completely unexpected invitation. Karrde's response, when it finally came, was predictable. "Tell me more."
Vorru leaned forward slightly to put his cup of caf down, then he folded both of his hands on his knee. "You and I could spend the next ten years fighting with one another, competing for influence in the Fringe. I could spend my time luring smugglers with promises of lucrative jobs, as long as they're willing to take goods the New Republic will never let you take, and we will end up cannibalizing the Fringe. Or, Master Trader Karrde, you and I can agree that a quiet division of authority between us would be in both of our interests." He paused, retrieving his caf for a sip while he allowed Karrde to assimilate his offer.
The smuggler king wore a calm, thoughtful, controlled expression, polished stone and attentive eyes. "So, you want me to stop trying to recruit other smuggling groups aligned with Black Sun," Karrde said finally.
"That would be part of it," Vorru agreed. "But I know the terms of the agreement you made with the New Republic." He leaned forward, his gaze hardening; he allowed his voice to drop to a determined cool. "You didn't just agree to deliver cargo, you agreed to deliver intelligence. If your smugglers actively report Black Sun activity it would mean active war between us. You know that, and I know that. The Fringe may seem opaque to those from the core systems, but we both know that information flows freely among Fringers." He tapped the arm of his chair, letting his fingers fall with a determined snap against the upholstered furniture.
"I see," Karrde said. He was quiet for a long minute, and Vorru again let him think. There were times to put pressure, but Vorru knew Karrde, and he understood him. Karrde would eventually think himself around to accepting the proposal, but if Vorru pushed too hard too quickly Karrde would snap back and that would be that. "And in exchange…"
"In exchange," Vorru responded with a small smile, his confidence growing, "I would ensure that Black Sun does not target you or your people directly. There is a great deal of resentment about you usurping what they perceive as their place: Durga hates you for taking over much of Jabba's operations after his death, and the other Vigos see you as stealing away the heart of Xizor's business model, and leaving them with the less profitable and more dangerous part." He shrugged. "I was willing to humor their desires in the past, but I'll be able to control them in the future, as long as I can guarantee strong returns. With your help, I am sure I can."
Karrde relaxed into his chair. His expression relaxed along with the rest of him, shifting into something more amicable. "And the credits are what, your dowry for our organizational marriage?"
"I prefer to think of it as my membership fee."
"If I refuse, I assume you have some way of making me regret it? Beyond the obvious, I mean."
Vorru grinned. It wasn't a particularly menacing grin—there was a great deal of real humor in it—but that edge of menace was there. "Of course. If, Master Trader Karrde, we agree to collaborate and each manage part of the Fringe—respectable and unrespectable, legal and criminal, whatever you want to call it—I am sure it will benefit us both. I intend to continue growing my influence… quietly, of course… and having a voice in the Smugglers' Alliance is valuable to me, as I'm sure you having a voice in Black Sun's affairs would be valuable to you. But…" and now there was real menace in his voice, "if you choose not to collaborate with me, that means you and I are competitors, and your organization becomes a direct threat to my organization's future prospects. I'll have no choice but to fight back."
Karrde sipped his caf calmly. Unlike Vorru, his expression didn't change. "You finding me on Rishi was a demonstration, wasn't it," he said.
"Your discernment is a credit to you, as always," Vorru said with a real smile. Karrde might not be Corellian by birth, but he certainly did deserve honorary status, he thought.
"If you can find me, you can find my people," Karrde continued. "Give their routes and cargoes to pirates or Imperials. Hunt them down, one by one, and make it impossible for the New Republic to defend all of them all the time. The Alliance would shed members, and they would flock to your organization for protection."
"The Alliance would shed members yes," Vorru agreed. "But I doubt they would 'flock' to anyone, much less me. More likely they'd go back to being independents, and you and I would have lost the power of a consolidated Fringe." He nodded. "You see. I need you, and youneed me. Even the Emperor's Hand can't protect your people from Black Sun if it puts its mind to killing them. She is just one woman, after all."
"Mara is unique," Karrde agreed. He watched Vorru for a long moment, and the former Moff held his breath. This was the moment, he thought. The one he'd been working towards ever since news of the Smugglers' Alliance had first come to him on Kessel. If Karrde agreed he would obtain an ally and stabilize his position. The two of them would become the dominant figures on the Fringe, could work to isolate Durga, and steadily accrue power and wealth on a scale of Empires.
If Karrde refused, they would fight. Vorru would win; with Eliezer's help that was inevitable. But the internecine warfare would cripple him until he was too old to dream big and destroy the unified Fringe he hoped to rule.
This was his last chance. His best chance.
"Very well," Karrde said, taking the datapad off the table. "I agree."
To Karrde's relief, his crew looked annoyed, but safe. Dankin, Chin, and Faughn were gathered in a conference room not far from where he had met with Vorru. Faughn sat in a corner, her hands gathered in her lap, while Chin sat at the head of the long conference table, his hand rapping idly on the polished surface. Dankin paced back and forth, turning with ferocity as he ran out of space to begin the cycle again.
The conference lounge looked out over the hangar, giving them all a good view of the Wild Karrde from where it sat, safely in the middle of Invidious' large hangar. Beneath them, through the yawing opening, they could see the extended arms of the Imperial station that orbited a pleasant-looking planet visible below. Chin watched curiously, but Dankin's pacing continued unhindered while Faughn stayed quietly in her seat.
They all looked up when he walked in. "Boss!" Dankin exclaimed with relief. "What's going on?"
Karrde glanced back, closing the door behind him. He took a moment to glance around the room—
"There are two listening devices," Chin said. "One in the ceiling near the door, the other in the wall over there," he pointed across the room at the far corner. "That we've found," he added.
"Have they treated you well?" Karrde asked, his eyes following Chin's guidance. He didn't see the listening devices, but if Chin said they were there, they were there.
"Are we prisoners?" drawled Dankin. "The guy who threw us in here insisted on calling us 'guests.'"
"I believe we are guests who aren't allowed to leave," said Karrde. "I was just in a meeting with Fliry Vorru."
Chin and Dankin both looked at him with some confusion. Chin had come to smuggling only late in life, when Karrde had first established his base on Myrkr, and Dankin was young enough that he had never known Corellia under Vorru. It was Faughn—the Corellian—who sat up straight. "Moff Vorru?" she said, surprised. "I thought he was dead."
"Imprisoned, actually. Or he was." Karrde folded his arms across his chest, beginning a slow walk around the table, examining the two listening devices. "He is interested in a business arrangement." He turned and peered out the window down into the hangar, seeing the planet spinning below and the large embracing arms of the Imperial base. "Do we know where we are?"
"Not for sure," said Dankin. "But we're guessing Linuri. We saw a fair number of Imperials, and I can't think of anywhere else near Rishi a Star Destroyer outside of the New Republic's control would be welcome."
"Hmmm," Karrde hummed, then nodded. "Yes, it makes sense. Tavira and Vorru must have an arrangement with the local authorities."
"That would be like Vorru," said Faughn.
"Yes it would," Karrde agreed. He stepped past Faughn; felt her hand slide over his. He curled his fingers around the slip of flimsi she passed to him, making sure it didn't slip from his grasp. "I don't know how long they intend to keep us here," he said, circling the table some more. As he did, Dankin nodded subtly to the side. Karrde needed only a quick glance to see the well-hidden camera in the wall and continued his rotation.
Chin moved, settling against the wall. Blocking another holocam, Karrde thought. And Faughn was sitting in front of a third, wasn't she… he took a quick glance at Dankin and noted that he too had moved a step and was now definitely standing in a very particular spot. The Berchestian gave him a subtle nod.
Karrde chanced a glance at the flimsi. There wasn't much written on the slip, just three letters. EBA. Karrde nodded subtly and continued his slow walk around the table, slipping the flimsi to Chin. Chin winked and swallowed it.
EBA. Emergency beacon active.
Karrde smiled thinly and took a seat at the table. He nodded at Chin and Dankin and they relaxed. Dankin resumed his pacing, and Chin slouched into a chair next to him. "So, what did this Moff Vorru want, anyway," asked Chin.
"Have you ever seen two krakana in the same small pond?" Karrde asked.
"Cap't?"
"Two krakana in a small pond have two choices," Karrde said. "They eat each other, or they each pick a side." He folded his arms across his chest. "We were discussing where to draw the line."
But Karrde's attention was barely on the conversation. Instead, he was mentally doing some quick calculations. The distance between Linuri and Coruscant, the average speed of the ships that Mara would be most likely to commandeer, an estimate of how long it would take for her to put together a sufficient team…
The Millennium Falcon's engines whined as she outpaced the numerous pirates left behind her, the ship's pair of quad lasers firing hefty blasts to discourage pursuit. "Okay, you can shut the quads down now!" Han called as Chewbacca yowled victoriously from beside him, keeping the ship's aft shields at full to make sure no lucky shots got through them. Han let the ship's navicomputer finish the calculations for a quick hyper-jump away from Kessel, then pulled the hyperspace lever. The starscape beyond the cockpit spun into the whirling blue of hyperspace for only a few moments, taking them safely away from Kessel and then dropping them back into normal space. "I really hope we never go back there, Chewie," Han muttered.
The Wookiee rumbled his sincere agreement, punching buttons and starting the calculations for a second jump and pulling a message dump off the HoloNet.
Footsteps over the Falcon's hollow metal floors alerted Han to the arrival of the women. Iella and Mara had both acquitted themselves quite well, and both looked both tired but confident. Iella had a small bacta patch affixed to her arm, but the graze hadn't slowed her down during the firefight.
"Where's the kid?" Han asked over his shoulder.
"We strapped him into an acceleration couch," Iella replied. "He's probably getting himself unstrapped now. Are we clear?"
"We're clear," Han confirmed with a smirk, waiting for the navicomputer to finish its calculations. The second short jump would make it impossible for the pirates to track them, unless they'd planted a homing beacon on his ship. "Any signs of a homing beacon?"
Mara shook her head. "None in the most obvious places, though this bucket is so irregular you could hide it just about anywhere."
"She's a smuggler's dream," Han flicked a few switches, making sure that the pirates hadn't messed with his ship back on Kessel. "Not that I do that kind of thing anymore, so don't nag, CorSec."
Iella rolled her eyes. "Of course." She turned to Mara. "Do you think there's any chance we can go back and tag one of those converted freighters with a homing device?"
"You want to go back?" Han asked, exasperated. "We just got out! Besides, it's too late; there was only one of those flight cruisers in orbit, or we wouldn't have slipped by so easily. The other one must already have left to meet up with Vorru."
Mara stepped over beside Chewbacca. The message dump had pulled at least one new message off the HoloNet; Han watched as she accessed it with a quick decrypt code. A not-entirely-unfamiliar face appeared on the vidscreen.
"Mara," said the dark-haired and black-eyed face Han recognized as Faughn, Gillespee's former aide and current comms expert on the Wild Karrde. Her tone was clipped and hurried, and her expression was harsh. "A Star Destroyer, the Invidious, just nabbed us departing Rishi. We've activated the Wild Karrde's emergency beacon. With any luck, they won't find it before you find us." The vid ended.
"Emergency beacon?" asked Iella.
"Security measure," Mara explained, her expression tight as she worked on the message to get the rest of the information. "Karrde wanted to make sure that all Smugglers' Alliance vessels have a tracking device so that the New Republic can't claim not to know where they are in a crisis. I doubt anyone but Karrde will ever turn theirs on, most smugglers obviously hate the idea, but… Here, look up this frequency on the HoloNet, it might be hard to spot but it'll be there."
Iella nodded, already going to work. "Invidious is Tavira's Star Destroyer," she added as she worked.
"Vorru's probably there too," Mara replied. "Blast, he's probably looking to eliminate the competition." She cursed, furious self-reproach written all over her face. "It should have occurred to me that he'd go after Karrde."
Mara didn't have many friends, Han thought. His mind flashed back to the story she'd told him at dinner: Gorb and the bar on Phorliss. That had been the last time she'd felt at home before Karrde took her in, she'd said. And now Karrde was in danger too. Han knew instantly she was going to go after him, and he had two choices: help, or get out of the way. Han glanced sideways at Chewie, who offered a reluctant yelp and a Wookiee shrug.
Mara and Iella were looking over the attached information on a datapad. "I found it," Iella said. "The Linuri system."
"Linuri?" said Han. "That's a major Imperial fleet base!" He grimaced, thinking of taking the Falcon into that mess without backup… that would be even worse than Kessel, and they'd just barely escaped Kessel. And he had the kid—Kyp—to think about…
Despite his partner's apparent reluctance, the Wookiee was already instructing the navicomputer to change their final destination to Linuri instead of Coruscant.
"Now wait just a minute," Han objected. But he already knew how this entire conversation was going to go. He'd allowed himself to get drawn into going to Kessel on the faint hope that they might track down Vorru. Going to rescue Talon Karrde, the man who was single-handedly keeping the Smugglers' Alliance together, an organization that Han himself had spent the better part of a year trying to encourage the Fringe to get together and form. An organization even the Mon Calamari, who hated smugglers, admitted they needed…
Mara lifted one perfect red-gold eyebrow. "We don't have a lot of time if we're going to make it to Linuri to get Karrde out of trouble," she said calmly. "Can we get there in time?"
Iella leaned over, examining the navicomputer. "Linuri is a pretty long way from here. I doubt it."
Han stiffened. "Now see here, sister," he objected. "Just because I've gone and married a princess, and had a pair of Jedi twins, and live in one of the fancier apartments in the Imperial Palace, and have a wife who runs the galaxy with her handmaiden, that doesn't mean that Chewie and I don't make sure the Falcon stays the fastest hunk-of-junk in the galaxy." He scowled. "We have standards you know."
Chewbacca yowled imperiously.
Han scowled harder. "Okay, fine, so Chewie does most of the maintenance and upgrades," he conceded. "Did I mention the Jedi twins?"
"Is that a yes?"
Han turned away from her just in time for the navicomputer to announce that it had finished its calculations for Linuri. "Let's find out," he muttered, putting his hand on the hyperspace lever.