Mara watched it go, her heart sinking. So that was it. Her freighter was gone; and from the fires she could see burning at that end of the complex it was clear that all the rest of the ships had been destroyed.

She and Tannis were marooned.

But there was still that other freighter-sized ship she d seen making its cautious way toward the planet. If the pilot was actually foolish enough to land in the middle of all this devastation, she could commandeer the crew and get out of here.

Unless the ship represented Round Three of the attack against her. In that case, she would simply kill everyone aboard.

Beside her, Tannis stirred. "Why've we stopped?" he murmured.

Mara focused on him, his burned face and labored breathing. No, she couldn't wait for the freighter. She had to get help to him now. And then, finally, the obvious answer occurred to her. Most of the command center building was in ruins, but the entrances to the three survey tunnels where Caaldra had taken refuge were still open. The dust from the attack had obscured any footprints he might have left, but a meter into the left-hand tunnel she found a recent handprint. There was no lighting, but the floor was smooth enough and the tunnel itself angled down at a reason ably shallow slope. Two gentle turns later, perhaps a hundred meters from the entrance, they reached a dimly lit area and the emergency escape ship she'd hoped to find, a compact Starfeld Z-10 Seeker. The ship was already prepped-clearly, Caaldra had been planning to get out this way until he'd noticed the undamaged Happer's Way and decided to take it instead. Getting Tannis into the medical capsule and keying for emergency treatment, Mara engaged the repulsorlifts and sent them moving cautiously down the tunnel.

The fires had mostly burned themselves out as Han and the others picked their way carefully across the rubble-filled base. "Nice to see the Empire taking some interest in pirates again,'' he commented to no one in particular. "This wasn't about dealing with pirates, Solo," LaRone said grimly. "This was about covering up a plot."

Han scowled. He hadn't really believed it was that simple, either.

"What kind of plot?" Luke spoke up.

"Someone's been recruiting pirates," Marcross said, his voice even darker than usual. "Someone, as you can see, with high Imperial connections.

Very high connections."

"Who?" Luke asked.

"That's what we're here to find out," LaRone said. "Quiller?"

"Nothing moving, either above or below," the pilot's voice said from the comlink in Han's belt. "That freighter we saw taking off on our way in must have been carrying the last survivors." "No sign of the Falcon?" Han asked. "Not yet," Quiller said. "I wouldn't worry, though. He probably just wanted to make sure the Reprisal was well on its way before circling back."

Han grimaced. Yes, that was exactly what the big, dumb Wookiee was probably doing. "Let me know the minute you spot him."

"Will do," Quiller promised. "LaRone, I'm reading some deep tunnels ahead of you, survey-sized and fully operational. There might be more people or weaponry down there that I can't scan for."

"As long as it stays down there, it can't hurt us," LaRone said. "Just keep an eye out. We have a hot map yet?"

"Just coming up," Quiller said. "Looks like the only place still drawing power is north and a little east of the attack's epicenter. Single small room on the surface, larger complex beneath it. Some kind of bunker or redoubt, I'm guessing. I'll talk you in."

The underground complex was indeed a bunker, professionally laid out.

Narrow stairs led down to a large command room, with side doors leading off three of its walls. There was a single dead body in view, slumped in a chair near the communications console. "Fire control's still on standby," Grave reported, leaning over one of the consoles.

"Duty barracks over here," Bright.w.a.ter said, looking into one of the side rooms. "Beds don't look slept in, though. The Reprisal must have taken them by surprise." "Sloppy," Grave said.

"They're pirates," Bright.w.a.ter reminded him.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Han asked, stepping to one of the other doorways and looking inside. This one was a small armory, with racks of blasters and grenades standing ready for whenever an enemy got tired of aerial bombardment and decided to get a little more personal.

"Let's start by finding out who the last person was they were talking to," Marcross said, crossing to the comm panel.

"Good idea," Han said, looking around. The others were gathering around Marcross, their backs to him and Luke. He caught Luke's eye, nodded over his shoulder at the armory, then wandered over toward the group surrounding Marcross. Luke looked puzzled, but nodded back and started edging his way toward the armory. "Find anything?" Han asked as he came up behind LaRone.

"We have their last communications setup," LaRone said, gazing over Marcross's shoulder. His voice sounded odd through the stormtrooper helmet.

"Well?" Han asked, craning his neck to see.

"None of your business," Marcross said, shutting off the display with a quick twitch of his finger.

But not before Han had caught the name of the system. It was Shelkonwa, Shelsha sector's capital. The same place where Luke had said Leia was trapped. "So we're going to Shelkonwa?" he asked as casually as he could.

"We're going to Shelkonwa," Marcross said, his voice stiff. "You're going wherever you want. In your own ship."

"You can leave as soon as it's back," LaRone added. "Again, thanks for your a.s.sistance back there."

"No problem," Han said . . . and with a rush of tangled emotions, he suddenly realized that that was it. If Luke was right about Leia being trapped on Shelkonwa, there was absolutely nothing he and Chewie and the kid could do about it. The Imperials would have the whole planet interdicted by now, and there was no way the Falcon could run that kind of blockade. Not every Imperial was as stupid and gullible as Captain Ozzel.

Leia was on her own. But that was all right. She was smart and resourceful, and she had Chivkyrie and his buddies on the ground, and Mon Mothma and Rieekan and their friends on the outside. They'd get her away from Shelkonwa somehow, and then they'd bundle her off to some new hiding place halfway across the galaxy, where Han would probably never see her again.

And once Leia was out of the picture, his last reason for sticking around this crazy Rebellion would be gone.

He was free. Free to drop Luke back with his new friends, free to go square things with Jabba, free to get back to the simpler life he'd had before his meeting with Luke and old Ken.o.bi at that Mos Eisley cantina.

There would be no one chasing him; no one expecting him to do anything; no one giving orders except himself. It was over.

If he really wanted it to be.

He looked back around as Luke sidled out of the armory, wearing a studiously casual expression and gripping a blaster, pressed into concealment at the side of his leg.

Han sighed. No, it wasn't over. Not yet. Luke and Leia were his friends ... and even if he wasn't ready to swear loyalty to Rieekan and this whole Rebellion thing, he still couldn't walk out on his friends.

"Actually, we were thinking about going to Shelkonwa, too," he told LaRone. "I don't see any reason why we can't ride together."

"I can think of a dozen of them," Marcross retorted, turning around. His blaster settled down, not quite pointing in Han's direction. "What's so urgent on Shelkonwa?"

"And why can't you get there in your own ship?" LaRone added.

There was nothing to do but tell them. Anyway, if it was going to be a problem, it would be better to have it out right here and now instead of on their way to Makrin City. "We have a friend there who's in a little trouble," he said. "Actually, it's more than a little trouble. I figure that by now the whole planet's probably been locked down." "The sector capital is locked down?" Bright.w.a.ter echoed. "What did your friend do, rob the governor's palace?"

"At the moment, she hasn't done much of anything," Han said, hoping it was more or less true. "The point is that you're military-you might be able to get in through that. We can't."

For a long moment the room was silent. Then LaRone stirred. "So that's it," he said, as if some long-standing question had just been answered.

"You're Rebels.", "Actually, we're only loosely connected with them," Han corrected.

"So you're only partial traitors?" Grave asked acidly.

"Well, you're deserters," Luke pointed out. It was very much the wrong thing to say. All four stormtroopers stiffened, and Han had no trouble imagining what their expressions were like behind those faceplates. "You call us that again, boy," Grave said, his voice like crushed ice, "and you'd better be ready to use that blaster."

"Put it down, Luke," Han ordered. Would the kid never learn when to keep his mouth shut? "Anyway, that doesn't matter."

"Yes, it matters," LaRone retorted as Luke silently set -'his borrowed blaster down on the nearest console. "No matter what our current situation is, we're still soldiers of the Empire."

"And we swore an oath to defend it against people like you," Bright.w.a.ter added.

"Yeah, I know the oath you swore," Han said, standing a little straighter himself. "I swore it, too, once."

LaRone's half-aimed blaster seemed to waver a little. "You were in the military?"

"Caridan Academy," Han said, bittersweet memories flooding back.

"Graduated with honor. Had a career ahead of me, they said."

"What happened?" LaRone asked.

Han grimaced. "I saw how the Empire treated people," he said. "Especially nonhumans."

This time all four blasters definitely wavered. "So did we," Grave muttered.

"When did you ... leave?" Bright.w.a.ter asked.

"I didn't leave," Han said. "I tried to help, my superiors didn't like that, and they threw me out. End of story."

There was another pause. From their stances, Han had the odd feeling this was a discussion they'd already had.

"You Rebels are trying to tear down order and stability," LaRone said at last. "Everything we've worked so hard to build since the Clone Wars."

"We have no problem with order and stability," Han a.s.sured him. "No one wants to destroy that. We just want to tear down the parts that are bad.

"Why can't they be fixed from the inside?" Bright-water countered.

"Because the people running things don t want them fixed." Han gestured toward the ceiling. "My partner Chewie was an Imperial slave. A lot of his people still are. You think the governors and Moffs and admirals want that changed?"

"Maybe the Wookiees are the lucky ones," Grave murmured. "You want to tell Chewie that?" "No, of course not," Grave said. "I was just pointing out it could be worse. Has been worse, sometimes."

"There was an operation on Teardrop just before we parted company with the Reprisal," Bright.w.a.ter said, the words coming out with obvious difficulty. "Part of the reason we left, actually. It was a raid on a suspected Rebel cell in a small town in the hills."

Han looked at Luke. Teardrop. Wasn't that the place where they'd barely skated out from both a pirate gang and a Star Destroyer? "The Rebels were all gone," he told the stormtroopers. "Before you ever got there."

The air was suddenly tense again. "You know this for sure?" LaRone asked, his tone that of a man not sure he really wanted the answer.

"Very sure," Han said. "Me and Luke had just pulled the last batch out when your ship showed up." "Did something bad happen?" Luke asked carefully. LaRone turned away. "They were ... we... were ordered to kill them," he said. "All of them."

"Everyone in town," Grave said. He hesitated. "Starting with the aliens."

"Oh no," Luke breathed. "But you . . . you didn't. Did you?"

LaRone didn't answer.

Han glanced at Luke, his stomach tightening. Though after Alderaan, what did he expect? What did any of them expect? "And you really think this kind of thing can be fixed from the inside?"

"We're not here to fix the galaxy, Solo," Grave said. "We're just soldiers."

"Not even sure we're that anymore," Bright.w.a.ter muttered.

"I'm not here to fix the galaxy, either," Han a.s.sured them, choosing his words carefully. He had a pretty good read on these men now, and the best way to sell them on this would be to echo their own feelings and motives straight back at them. "I just want to fix a corner of it here and there." He waved out toward the stars. "Rescuing our friend is one of those corners." "Our oath of allegiance was to the Emperor." "Maybe," Han said. "But if you ask me, a soldier's real job is to protect the people."

"We don't need you to tell us where our duty lies," Marcross said quietly. It was, Han noted with interest, the first comment he'd made since the conversation had turned in this direction. "And we're wasting time." "You're right," Han agreed. "So what's it to be?" Han's comlink clicked. "LaRone, he's here," Quiller called. "The Falcon. Looks okay to me. You about finished?"

Han looked at LaRone, wishing he could see the man's face. "It's up to you," he said.

LaRone looked at each of the others in turn. Then, almost reluctantly, he turned back to Han. "Quiller, tell the Wookiee we're taking him and his friends to Shelkonwa," he said. "Tell him to hide his ship somewhere in case the Reprisal comes back. When he's done that, have him give you the coordinates and we'll come get him."

"Or else Luke and I come with you and Chewie takes the Falcon to Shelkonwa on his own," Han suggested.

"We can meet at some nice quiet rendezvous point in the system, and he can come aboard then."

"I guess that'll work," LaRone said. "Quiller?"

"I'll let him know," Quiller said. "You find everything you needed?"

LaRone looked at Marcross. "Oh, yes," Marcross said quietly.

"Everything."

"We'll be back at the pad in ten minutes." LaRone turned back to Han.

"We'll take you to Shelkonwa," he said. "But once we're there, you're on your own. If we can manage to meet up again, we'll give you a ride back out to wherever you leave the Falcon. But that's all we'll do for you and your Rebel friend. Understood?"

"Understood," Han said.

"And you can leave that blaster where it is," he added to Luke. "We have better ones aboard the Suwantek." Turning, he headed for the exit.

"Sure," Luke said, throwing Han a look of strained patience.

Han shrugged back. "You heard the man," he said.

"Let's go."

The tunnel's exit was ten kilometers farther on, a camouflaged cave north of the base. As Mara lifted the ship above the intervening hills she could see that the incoming freighter had arrived and had landed on Pad 8, the Happer's Way's former home.

For a moment she considered swinging back around and hitting them while they were vulnerable on the ground. But no. She had no real evidence that they were connected to the attack, and anyway she had no time to spare.

Keying the nav computer for the nearest system with decent medical facilities, she headed out.

An hour later she dropped the ship back out of hypers.p.a.ce to carry out Tannis's last request.

The Emperor had little patience with memorials, Mara knew, with extra contempt for the practice of saying words over the fallen. Mara said a few words anyway, half remembered ones from her childhood, before consigning Tannis's body to the emptiness of s.p.a.ce.

When she again seated herself at the freighter's helm, it was with a dark and icy anger in her soul. TIE fighters and turbolaser fire together added up to a Star Destroyer, and according to Captain Norello the only one in the sector was the Reprisal.

Captain Ozzel almost certainly wasn't in league with the BloodScars directly. The man was ambitious and pompous, but it required a special kind of daring to take that sort of risk, and Ozzel simply didn't have it. Colonel Somoril had both the daring and the utter lack of ethics, but even a senior ISB officer couldn't order a Star Destroyer captain into combat this way. In fact, aside from a few special cases like Mara herself, the only person outside the Fleet chain of command who could do that was the sector governor himself.