Mara was trying not to be irritated about not being aboard her own ship. It wasn't easy—she was comfortable aboard Tempered Mettle, it was her space and her sanctuary. But she knew all-too-well that she was not as low-profile as she used to be, which meant that traveling aboard her own ship into potentially hostile territory was increasingly risky. Besides which, Luke and Mara's guide to Nar Shaddaa was slated to be the very-pregnant Mirax Terrik, and catering to Mirax's comfort was more important than catering to Mara's own.
She would just have to bear it.
The hangar that housed Pulsar Skate was a bustle of activity. Hover dollies loaded with cargo were pushed by put-upon industrial lifter droids, each making their typical sounds of grumbling discontent as they loaded the heavy packages in Skate's main cargo hold. Mara shifted another pallet of crates; next to her, Mirax's copilot Liat looked almost comically small behind a heavily loaded dolly, a clan of his Sullustan relatives chittering excitedly around him. Mara only knew a bit of Sullustan, enough to pick up a word here or there and determine that they really wanted to know where Liat was going, and that the Sullustan was doing an admirable job of maintaining operational security.
Behind her, the whir of another dolly drew her attention. Mirax and Luke managed it together, pushing it into the neat space that had been allotted for the package. Well into her second trimester, Mirax was mostly 'supervising' the loading, which mostly meant telling Liat, Luke, Mara and the loader droids where she wanted things stacked—and why they were all doing it wrong, down to the micrometer.
"What's in the boxes?" asked Mara, nudging the box nearest her with her toe.
"Why, contraband of course." Mirax grinned. "It's a good thing I have a pair of Jedi to vouch for me on departure, otherwise we might have quite a bit of trouble with customs."
Luke and Mara shared a look, unsure if she was joking or not. Mara's expression remained serious; Luke's was cheerfully jovial. "I doubt even my reputation is enough to prevent a ship belonging to the 'Smugglers' Alliance' from being subjected to a rigorous inspection," he teased. "Although it wouldn't surprise me if Karrde had arrangements with every customs office between here and Tatooine."
"Oh, farther than Tatooine!" Mirax jested. "I have it on good authority that he and Kyp have been as far out as Bakura just to bribe lowly customs agents."
Luke laughed and Mara had to smile. It was probably true in spirit, if not in fact, and Luke's clear good-humor—and lack of any judgment—sent an odd warmth through her. As Emperor's Hand she hadn't thought much of smugglers. They were criminals, after all, ones who broke Imperial law and stole revenues that properly belonged to the Empire at a minimum. Her opinions had gradually shifted after she found herself on the fringes of the galaxy and learned just what those imposed duties actually meant for the people who needed simple goods. But she'd long assumed that Luke—virtuous, farmboy-proper Luke—would bristle at the casual criminality of something like smuggling. In hindsight that had been silly of her—Luke was Han Solo's brother-in-law, after all, and the two of them got along very well—but still, seeing Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker playfully skirting the New Republic's laws still surprised her. And makes your heart skip, Mara, she admitted, as she watched Luke and Mirax continue their casual banter.
He had no business being so alarmingly attractive.
Luke caught her eye and winked at her. She almost bumped into Liat with her dolly and was roundly upbraided by the crowd of chittering Sullustan spectators.
"I'm sorry we have to leave while you're still waiting to hear from Corran," Luke apologized to Mirax as she and Liat carefully guided Pulsar Skate up through the crowd of traffic surrounding Coruscant, heading for open space and the hyperlane that would take them out towards Hutt space.
Mirax frowned. It was a small frown, almost unnoticeable, but Luke definitely noticed it—and the slight dimming of Mirax's spirits. "Whatever is going on with our homeworld," she said after a moment, "Corran felt a pull towards home and his grandfather certainly thought he needed to be there for something important." She shrugged. "I did tell him, though, that if he isn't back in time for our son to be born, I am going to name him after my father and he won't be allowed to object."
That made Luke and Mara both laugh, and Liat said something pointed in response.
"Hey!" Mirax objected, glaring at her copilot. "Only I'm allowed to insult Corran like that! I don't even let Booster say so much as a word about him in private!" Liat snickered, and Mirax shook her head, mock-put-upon. "See what I have to put up with?" she asked with a theatrical sigh.
"I'm sure he's alright," Luke said reassuringly. "He's grown stronger in the Force, especially after his and Kam's experiences with Tavira and the Jensaarai."
"Oh, I know," Mirax said dryly. "I love my husband, but he's not the type to let anyone forget something like that, and he had to do something to prevent my father from getting all the glory for the destruction of Invidious." She glanced at Luke. "Actually, I was more disappointed that Wedge couldn't come to see us off. I was expecting he would—it's not often he has the chance to and he almost never misses it when he does."
That had disappointed Luke, too. He and Wedge didn't often spend a long time in one place together, but the months Lusankya had spent in its repair dock in orbit of Coruscant had allowed them to rectify that for a time. He'd even managed to cajole Mara into a double date with Iella and Wedge with expensive tickets to the Coruscant Opera; that had been a wonderful evening (something even Mara had admitted when they'd arrived home afterwards). "I know he had intended to," Luke said. "But something came up, I'm not sure what, he couldn't tell me."
"Well, I hope it's nothing bad," Mirax said. "Hold on, time for our first hyperspace jump, then we'll make the best time we can to Nar Shaddaa."
Dinner aboard the Pulsar Skate was a comfortable affair. Liat sat in an elevated chair, one that put him on even height with his human companions, and was an animated conversationalist. The Sullustan had been particularly interested in the Jedi Order and taken the opportunity presented to interrogate Luke and Mara about their plans for the future. To Luke's surprise, Liat was also highly knowledgeable about the Jedi Order of old—a consequence, no doubt, of the fact he and Mirax had long made their living as a broker for Jedi artifacts. The conversation had quickly turned to Luke's plan to bring back the Antarian Rangers, an idea with which Mirax was already familiar, but was new to Liat.
The Sullustan considered the idea for a long time, and then battered Luke with a series of rapid-fire questions.
Luke laughed. "No, they won't have to be Force-sensitive. If it was that easy to find Force-sensitives, maybe we could train Jedi quickly enough that it wouldn't be so important to bring the Rangers back. Yes, the Rangers will have an important role in decision-making, not just follow orders. I'm not sure how they'll be funded yet, exactly, but the Jedi have some… wealthy donors willing to back the project." It was better not to get into the specifics, he thought, but Liat seemed satisfied with that answer.
The Sullustan's next series of questions came slower and were harder to answer. "I strongly believe," Luke began his answer just as slowly, letting himself work through the words before he vocalized them, "that the Force can work through all of us. It's true, the Jedi of old were much greater in number. That's going to be true… probably for my lifetime, if not much longer. Training a Jedi is not a long process, necessarily, but it is a difficult one and one that must be done meticulously and with care. I do not want to rush the process of training Jedi and make mistakes, as my own Masters did. And yet, there is great pressure to restore a Jedi presence." He pressed his lips together, thinking hard as he went on to the second part of Liat's question. "And I don't think it is necessary to be a Force-user to have the wisdom and judgment required to do the job. The Force grants Jedi power and wisdom, of course, but it works through all of us, whether we are Force sensitives or not. Everyone is part of the Force." He hesitated, then continued once more, not quite sure if this was something he should speak, but doing so nonetheless. "And in my experience, there are times the Dark Side can cloud a Jedi's judgment. If we cannot always have Jedi working together because we are too few, we should always have trusted advisors and companions, people to consult with and whose wisdom we trust."
"I mean, I love my husband, but he's definitely at his best when he's working with Wedge and Tycho," Mirax said with a grin.
That made Liat chitter, and Luke laughed along with him. "I think we all are at our best when working with Wedge and Tycho," he said with a smile. Then he glanced over his shoulder, at the corridor down which Mara had recently departed. "Or Mara."
"I am sure Corran would be glad for that caveat," Mirax chuckled.
"Does that answer your questions, Liat?" Luke asked.
Luke followed the Sullustan's response reasonably well, though there were times he still struggled with the language. "Liat and I spent years studying the Jedi of old," Mirax added, "even before I married the grandson of one. We're far from experts of course, but we know about as much as any non-Jedi can. That's one of the reasons I've been able to provide those Solonese airwood practice swords you've made so much use of," she added.
"Kam in particular appreciates them," Luke said with a smile and a nod. "Also, we're still working on preparing to build more\ lightsabers with our apprentices. We have plenty of crystals from the museum on Coruscant, but we could use a supply of power cells."
"I'm sure I can make that happen."
"Though I do have another question," Luke said. "Back on Coruscant, you implied that you had a contact on Nar Shaddaa, someone who would be helpful in tracking down Jedi artifacts on that world. Mara's off sweeping the ship for listening and tracking devices again, but she's already done it twice. I know we're both very curious who your mysterious contact is."
Mirax hummed in response. Standing, she walked to the heating unit and removed a kettle, pouring hot water into a pair of mugs. Returning with the mugs, and a third mug for when Mara came back from her final security sweep, she slid one to Luke. "You may not like this," she warned.
That was a strange thing to say, Luke thought. "Why not?" he asked cautiously.
"Because you're a human from Tatooine, and I've never met a human from Tatooine who doesn't have a deep, visceral dislike of Hutts," she said.
He shouldn't be surprised, really, Luke knew. They were going to Nar Shaddaa, and if there was going to be someone with enough power and money (as well as interest) on Nar Shaddaa to be a major player in the Jedi antiquities trade, it would almost have to be a Hutt, or an agent of a Hutt. It was true, though, that Luke Skywalker did not like Hutts. That almost no one from Tatooine really liked Hutts. Even Hutt employees didn't like Hutts—they just paid better than almost every alternative. "Do you trust him?" he asked.
"Well enough. His name is Beldorion, and he's a major player in the Jedi antiquities trade. He and I have done business over the last few years, on and off. He's a somewhat mysterious figure for a Hutt, in that he doesn't seem to come from any of the major Hutt kajidics. He must have been exiled from one of them, but I've never seen any sign that he's on bad terms with them—he just doesn't belong to one."
Luke frowned. Hutt politics wasn't his expertise, but he was from Tatooine—he knew enough. "That is strange."
Mirax nodded. "But he's definitely among the more respectable Hutts. His lack of association with the clans means he has no pull in their politics, and isn't a party to any of their criminal or semi-legal enterprises. He's an art dealer, and about as respectable as Hutts come—I did my research when I started selling him antiquities. I don't typically sell to people I don't trust."
"And you feel safe meeting with him?"
"Well," Mirax said, her tone becoming spoiled, almost simpering. "My Daddy is Booster Terrik. He owns and operates one of the only Impstar Deuces in private hands, and most of the turbolaser emplacements—the ones he was allowed to keep—still work. If so much as a single negative feeling is felt towards me and his first grandchild, he's going to find out who felt it, destroy their businesses and homes, strap them across one of those turbolasers and blast them in half. And then he's going to get mean."
"I see your point."
"Seriously though, if I was even slightly concerned you wouldn't be making this trip without much more backup, and I wouldn't be coming at all." Mirax rested her hand on her belly. "I do, after all, have more than myself to think about."
The message insisted on urgency and brooked absolutely no room for delay, so Wedge was forced to very reluctantly abandon getting to say goodbye to Mirax and Luke in person. Instead, he flew a small shuttle, Atril beside him, on a hasty trip to the Senatorial Skyhook, where Senator Sena Midanyl was waiting.
Atril sat slack in her acceleration couch, reviewing a datapad. When he chanced a glance at the woman, her expression looked as pensive and annoyed as Wedge felt. "There's absolutely nothing useful here," she complained. "And I don't even know if that's because it's classified or if it's because no one knows anything."
"The fact that it's Sena making the call suggests it's about Corellia," Wedge pointed out with a shrug. "But other than that, I don't know anything more than you do."
"I hate this," she said. "My Mareschals have the best sensor suites in the fleet. I'm not used to flying blind."
"I know the feeling," Wedge replied. "It's the waiting to find out that I hate most."
"Reminds me of my TIE pilot days," Artil muttered.
Through the shuttle's observation window, Wedge watched as they closed towards Coruscant. There were numerous Home Fleet vessels clustered defensively above the Skyhook. Wedge could even see Home One there, surrounded by its typical cloud of escorts.
With all the haste, the shuttle's landing took only a few more minutes. The soft click of landing gear, then the shifting settle of the landing struts, communicated that it was safe to disembark, and Wedge powered down before he and Atril both released their security straps and headed for the ramp before it had finished lowering. Wedge jogged down, reaching the deck just as the ramp touched metal, Atril close behind him. Two troopers met them and hastily guided them towards the nearest conference room.
Wedge was surprised to find the room did not just contain Sena. Next to Senator Midanyl was Councilor Ackbar himself, and between them both was General Airen Cracken of New Republic Intelligence. "I take it that something serious has happened," Wedge said, drawing the attention of all three figures to him.
"And something we won't be able to keep quiet for long, though I don't think we would want to," Cracken replied with a nod.
"Wedge," Ackbar greeted him, lowering his large head and blinking his oversized, fishlike eyes in greeting. "Yes, something serious has indeed happened. It seems the depths of recent surprises are deeper even than an ocean trench." Ackbar gestured around the conference table, which had a platter with pastries and a large carafe of steaming caf with mugs waiting. "Sit and General Cracken and Senator Midanyl will brief us."
Wedge and Atril glanced at each other. Cracken and Midanyl would do the briefing? Wedge stole a look at Sena; his former attache looked back with a depth of seriousness that Wedge could remember seeing before their attacks on Chazwa and Carida. But there wasn't just seriousness there… to Wedge's surprise, there was an energetic light in Sena's eyes, an excitement he had not expected to see. "Of course," he said, feeling sudden anticipation swell.
Evidently, the excitement within Sena could not be restrained. "Corellia is free!" she exclaimed, and the grin she'd been hiding burst out.
Pure astonishment was Wedge's response. He'd spent the last four months planning the invasion of Corellia, what did she mean 'Corellia is free'? "What?" was all he could say.
Sena was nearly giddy, excitement that made the years drop away from her, replaced with sudden youthful vigor. "The New Order fleet that was guarding Corellia has changed sides," she said. "Most of it has. One of the Star Destroyers was destroyed by the other five and an armada of Corellian volunteers. The Imperial government in Coronet has been scattered and Diktat Gallamby is reportedly dead. I've just received a message from a new Corellian Ruling Council, which wants to take the first steps towards formally claiming my Senate seat to represent not just Corellia-in-Exile, but Corellia proper."
Words failed Wedge. Beside him, Atril boggled with surprise.
"How did this happen?" Wedge finally managed. "Can we confirm any of it?"
Cracken finally stepped in. "I think we can," he said. "Wraith Squadron has been on the ground on Corellia for almost a year, both hunting Fliry Vorru and working against the Diktat, and they're far from my only intelligence assets. The HoloNet is still blocked, but messages are starting to trickle in from neighboring systems. I've received three different confirmations that there's been a changeover in government on Corellia in the last two hours, and I expect more will arrive shortly." Cracken smiled, a look so unfamiliar on his typically serious face that Wedge found it disturbing. "As for how it happened, I'm sure it'll be some time before we can work out the exact details, but it appears the Imperial Fleet either mutinied or refused orders to suppress the protests. You'll find this in particular interesting, Wedge—the main rumor is the mutiny was precipitated by a military disaster on the Outer Rim."
Slowly, excitement started to wane as the General asserted control over the Corellian native. "The New Order attacked Poln Major and was repulsed by Pellaeon," Wedge guessed.
"And decisively," Cracken agreed. "I don't know how credible these rumors are, but I've seen reports that the New Order lost as many as twelve Imperial-class Star Destroyers in the attempt."
Atril's look of astonishment redoubled. Wedge merely whistled. "That would be a heavy blow," he said slowly. "And I could see how it might precipitate a mutiny elsewhere in the fleet." He looked at Ackbar. "Admiral, what now?"
The Mon Calamari offered an amused smile. "It's Councilor now, General. And I don't know. I know you were planning to begin your offensive as soon as tomorrow, but it would appear that is no longer necessary. I would suggest you wait another week or so and finish all the repairs you require rather than rushing out to return to the battlefield. We wanted Lusankya and Fifth Fleet out saving Corellia, but it seems the Corellians—in typical Corellian fashion—may have saved themselves instead."
They all glanced at Atril when she made a sound of discontent. When she realized their regard, she straightened, blushing. "Oh!"
"You have a concern, Commodore?" Sena asked pointedly.
"Oh… no, not really," Atril said, shaking her head. "This is all wonderful of course, I just… the New Order does not react to losing well—just look at their terrorist attack on Rendili after Rendili declared its independence. So if it was willing to kill thousands of Rendili dockworkers just to punish Rendili for its defiance, what is ISB going to do in response to this?"
"Nothing good," Sena admitted.
General Cracken sighed heavily, and shook his head. "It's true. Just like Rendili, I'm going to assume that the Empire will want to make Corellia pay for its 'treason'." He rubbed his nose, looking unhappy. "And I would be wary of sending our own fleets into the Corellian System to defend it. The people in charge of communication, and whoever is commanding the new Corellian defense fleet—not to mention Corellia's static defenses, which may still be controlled by Imperial loyalists—might respond aggressively to any uninvited display of force. While the Corellians do not want to be ruled by the Empire, there's a fairly substantial faction who also doesn't want to be ruled by the New Republic."
"We'll know one way or the other soon. I'm going to Corellia," Sena said.
"You're what?" Cracken practically jumped out of his chair and Ackbar looked equally ill-at-ease with the suggestion.
"I'm going right now, by myself, and I'm going to meet the new Corellian government and see who is in charge and what they want. I'll also present them with the terms under which I will be able and willing to represent them in the Senate."
"Are you certain it is a wise idea to sail these seas?" Ackbar said, his voice slow and thoughtful, without any of Sena's excited haste. "Perhaps it would be best to allow the surface to settle, so that the horizon before us is more clear."
Sena shook her head decisively. "No. Absolutely not. There is an opportunity here and now, and I will not be remembered as the woman who missed the opportunity to welcome Corellia into the New Republic. The worst thing that could happen is I get martyred."
"No," Cracken countered. "The worst thing that could happen is you end up in Imperial custody."
"One and the same," Sena replied dismissively. "I'm still as prepared for that eventuality as I was in the old days. Wedge, you need to get Fifth Fleet ready. If the Empire decides that it has to punish Corellia the way it punished Rendili, the costs could be enormous. The moment I have a basing agreement with the new Corellian government I want Fifth Fleet there to defend it."
"Yes ma'am."
"Good man. Now find me a pilot. They'd better be almost crazy enough to fly with the Rogues."
Didn't I just leave this party?
Han Solo felt acutely uncomfortable back in uniform, even if it was a set of rumpled Fleet Command fatigues and not the razor sharp creases of the imperial tunic and breeches he'd worn so long ago. He'd already removed the General's tabs. I don't need anyone getting confused, he thought wryly. So far no one had asked about it—but just hauling the uniform out from the forgotten depths of his closet had felt like trudging through a swamp. Or across Hoth. Or both at once.
At least it still fit.
Chewbacca had returned from Kashyyyk as suddenly as he had departed. With Han, Leia, and the twins' safety assured by a new cadre of Noghri bodyguards for the last few months, Chewbacca had felt the freedom to spend a truly extended period back home and had taken full advantage. But with Han's decision to rejoin the fleet, if only temporarily, Chewbacca had returned immediately. They had argued then, but ultimately Han had won and persuaded Chewie to stay on Coruscant and help look after the twins. With Han leaving they would need a father figure and there was no one Han would rather have in the role than Chewbacca—even if the fact that Han was going off into battle again while Chewie would be staying behind made the Wookiee miserable. He'd been miserable before, Han reminded himself. He'd get over it.
The massive fleet admiral's quarters about Lusankya were larger than Han could have imagined. His old quarters on Mon Remonda had been spacious but not the size of a large apartment, and Wedge's quarters made some large apartments look tiny. Around the table at the center of the briefing room was the rest of Wedge's staff: Captain Kre'fey, Lusanyka's commanding officer, and Commodore Tabanne, his aide.
"How long until Lusankya will be ready for deployment?" Wedge asked, looking over at Kre'fey.
"If you wanted to hurry us out, we could deploy today," Kre'fey growled. "But we'd have to deploy without our full logistics train. Daala's attacks have stretched us to the limit, and we're barely half-stocked on proton torpedoes."
"We're not going to be deploying today, or even this week," Wedge said. "It'll take Sena some time to smuggle herself into Corellia and no matter how amenable the new government is, I doubt she'll have any kind of formal agreement quickly."
"If ever," Atril teased. "You're an ornery, aggressive, confrontational bunch."
"Hey, I resent that," Han said, folding his arms across his chest, Chewbacca-style. "I also don't think Corellia's in any immediate danger. Even if the Empire wants to punish Corellia, they just don't have the ships to do it. Without Carida or Eriadu they can't even get to Corellia. The New Republic controls all the major routes through the Core, and even ISB wouldn't risk taking a whole battle fleet through the Deep Core."
"The Empire has proven adept at exploiting unknown or temporary hyperlanes," Atril warned him.
"And don't forget the rumors that Luke and Mara are following up on," Wedge added. There was a darkness to his expression that made Han vaguely nervous. Stress had deepened the lines in Wedge's face, and there was some fresh gray in his hair—even though Wedge was still a young man, much younger than Han himself. Han had no doubt that Wedge was capable of commanding Fifth Fleet, but he remembered the sleepless nights and endless responsibility when he had led a task force—all those months away from Leia, battling Zsinj from system to system, tearing his hair out to put the mad warlord down. Clearly, the responsibilities were taking a similar toll on the other Corellian. "You've all been briefed on the rumors about Silencer Station," Wedge added.
"An Imperial bogeyman fresh from the dark days of the Rebellion," Han muttered.
"If the rumors are true, we could be looking at another Katana Fleet scenario. A new Imperial battle fleet fresh from the assembly line, with modern ships instead of old ones," Wedge said. "I don't know how alarmed we should be yet, but some alarm feels appropriate."
Alarm was always appropriate, Han thought sourly. That was why he'd retired. He looked at the holomap being projected from Wedge's command table. The Core was enlarged and in focus, and on it Han could see the smear of New Republic red, and the dots of Imperial blue along the trade routes that centered around Corellia. Corellia itself was a slashed dejarik-board of yellow, blue and red, to indicate its contested, uncertain status. Daala's estimated fleet strength was displayed off to the side, although that too was multicolored—since the exact status of the Star Destroyers she had been using to garrison Corellia was still unknown. Still, that left her with a significant fleet they had yet to account for—and the whole reason Wedge had brought Han here was so Han could guess what Daala would do next.
Han thought back to his academy days. They'd shared a few classes and many of them had competitive elements. He could remember more than one strategy game which had begun with Daala suffering a serious loss… and he could remember how she had usually responded. "I think you have a more pressing problem."
Wedge, Kre'fey, and Atril turned towards him. Han leaned forwards, propping his elbows up on his knees, and stared at Wedge. "Where's Daala?" he asked.
"I have no idea," Wedge said.
He glanced at Atril, who shrugged. "Last we know for sure was the attack Stormhawk staged on Leria Kerlsil," she said. "Our best guess was that she had approximately ten Star Destroyers under her overall command, but six of those were at Corellia. That leaves her with four, which isn't exactly enough to pose a major threat."
"She's still out there," Wedge said, and his tone of voice suggested he saw Han's point. "Probably somewhere in the Core, probably somewhere close to Corellia. And she might not be able to punish Corellia with four ships, but if it's true that ISB has agents running herd on all Imperial fleet captains, ISB may force her to try anyway." He waved his hand at Han, beckoning. "Han, what's Daala's instinct going to be in this scenario?"
Han snorted. "Natasi Daala has one governing instinct: find a weakness and attack it."
"She's that one-dimensional?" Atril asked.
"If you saw the bone fractures she left in her wake, you might have assumed she was a Rebel operative sent to assassinate the Academy's graduating class," Han said dryly. "Look." He took a long drink, set the glass down on Wedge's table, and hunched forward, placing his hands on his knees. "Daala is not the most imaginative person I ever met, but she is determined, she is tenacious, and she is smart. She's also out there in the Core with a handful of Star Destroyers, any one of which could wreck a planet if given enough uninterrupted bombardment time. Whatever the Empire is cooking up with its Silencer Station is a problem for the future. For the next week or two? You should worry about Daala first."