"Ah," Mara said. That was interesting. Very interesting indeed. "So. You want to get off me, or were you just getting comfortable?"

"Oh-sure," he said awkwardly, some of that old farmboy embarra.s.sment flicking across his face as he scrambled off her. "Sorry."

"No problem," Mara said, getting to her feet and running a critical eye over him. Some nasty-looking shrapnel tears in his clothing, with what were probably some equally nasty injuries underneath them. "Looks like you need a pa.s.s through the medical bay."

"No time," he said, shaking his head. "I'm okay for now, and we've got to get out of here.

Did my X-wing get docked?"

"I don't know," Mara said, slapping the control pad to close the outer airlock door.

"Faughn?"

"It's been secured in B-port," the captain said. "Skywalker, you know a safe route Out of this death trap?"

"I used to," Luke said, keying the inner door. "It's probably not any safer than any other path now."

"We'll follow the pirates," Mara decided, waving Krickle away as be hurried up with his medpac and leading Luke down the corridor toward the Starry ice's half-ports. "They'll probably shoot at us, but you can't have everything."

"Problem: we seem to have run out of pirates to follow," Faughn said. "Nothing's left the asteroid in nearly two minutes."

Mara felt her stomach muscles tighten. "Which means the grand finale of their self-destruct system is probably ticking down right now."

"Probably," Faughn agreed. "What do we do, pick a direction and go?"

"More or less," Mara told her. "Start pulling away from the main base, but not too fast. I want to be on my turbolaser before we get into anything nasty."

"Give me time to get out there, too," Luke added. "I can run ahead of you and trigger the traps."

"Only if you can see them coming," Mara pointed out, giving him a hard look. "I've got a better danger sense than you do; maybe I should take your ship and break trail."

"I can do it," he said firmly. "Anyway, it's my responsibility-you're here because of me."

He had a point. "If that's how you want it," Mara said, pointing down the corridor. "Take the first left, then break right. Make it fast."

She needn't have worried. By the time she reached her turbolaser station the X-wing was already burning s.p.a.ce ahead of them. "I'm ready," she announced as she strapped in again.

"Get going, Luke. Good luck."

"May the Force be with you," he said with what she decided was probably mild reproof.

"Stay sharp."

The trip in through the asteroids had been nerve-racking. The trip out, to Mara's surprise, was almost casually easy. Time and again the X-wing would shift course slightly and fire, setting off a distant cl.u.s.ter trap or shredder bomb or automatic turbolaser nest, usually before Mara's own danger sense had even triggered. It quickly settled into a pattern: the X-wing would maneuver, fire, and dodge, with the Starry Ice following stolidly behind, its own turbolaser crew needing to do only occasional cleanup work.

Whether by design or accident, Luke seemed, to be running slightly above the freighter, doing his most thorough job of minesweeping within Mara's angle of fire. Most of the cleanup work thus wound up in Elkin's or Torve's sectors, leaving Mara little to do except help watch for any surprises the pirates might have left behind, wait patiently for them to clear the asteroid field, and wonder darkly if Luke was d eliberately being overprotective just to annoy her.

It was on one of her visual sweeps of the sky ahead that she spotted the .ship. Her initial thought was that it was a TIE fighter: it was similarly sized and at first glance bad something of the same silhouette. But even as she opened her mouth to alert the others the craft made a turn&mdash "We've got company," she snapped. "Poking near the edge of the asteroid field at about twenty by fifty."

"Got it," Faughn said. "Looks like . . . what does it look like?"

"You got me," Mara said. "I thought it was an Imperial, but those aren't TIE solar panels on its sides."

"Whatever they are, it's got two more of them flaring aft at the tail," Elkin pointed out.

"Doesn't necessarily mean it's not an Imperial," Faughn grunted. "Skywalker? You up on current Imperial starfighter design?"

"Not really," Luke said, his voice showing signs of the strain as he was forced to split his attention between the intruder and the more immediate task at hand. "I've never seen anything like that before, though."

Mara gazed out at the distant s.p.a.cecraft. Clearly, it was watching them. Did it realize they'd spotted it? "I think one of us ought to try for a closer look," she said.

"Let's not, shall we?" Faughn growled. We don't need to borrow any more trouble than we've already got."

"Besides, with our luck it'd just be another of those useless Qella things," Corvus added scornfully. "Like she one Lando Calrissian chased all over s.p.a.ce."

"I say we take a look," Mara said, putting the firmness in her voice that made it an order. "Luke, you're the faster ship. You want to see if you can catch it?"

"I can try," he said, an odd tone to his voice. Was he feeling the same thing about that ship that she was? "Can you spare me?"

"I think so," Mara said. "We have to be pretty close to the edge of the pirates' defense sphere by now."

"Okay. Artoo, get all the recorders and sensors going. We're going to want a complete record of this."

The droid beeped acknowledgment and with a suddenness that even surprised Mara the X-wing angled off and shot toward the intruder. It dodged past the drifting asteroids, cutting close beside them for the maximum of cover. Mara kept her turbolaser targeted on the other s.p.a.cecraft, wondering tautly whether they would choose to fight or run.

But the X-wing was still closing, and so far there was no reaction. Could the intruder somehow be looking the other direction? Ridiculous. So what was it waiting for?

Luke was nearly to close-combat distance now. Behind him, a stray asteroid floated leisurely between the intruder and Mara's line of sight&mdash Her only warning was a sudden jolt in Luke's emotions. An instant later she caught a single glimpse of the intruder as it flicked at incredible speed across the sky, making for the edge of the asteroid field.

"There he goes!" Tone yelped as Mara tried to swing her turbolaser around to target the distant s.p.a.cecraft. But too late. Even as she fought to get a lock on it another asteroid cut across between them, again blocking her view. There was the flicker of pseudomotion from the asteroid's edge, and the ship was gone.

Someone on the intercom swore softly. "I give up," Faughn said. "What the blazes was that?"

"You got me," Man said. "Luke? You still there?"

"Right here," Luke replied. "Did you get all that?"

"Only part of it," Mara told him. "He waited until we were blocked by an asteroid before making his move."

"Interesting," Luke said. "The ship gave off a very unusual energy signature as he took off-I recorded what I could of it, but I doubt my sensors were able to pick up more than a fraction of what was really there."

"Maybe that's why he waited until we couldn't see him."

"Probably," Luke agreed. "He'd have guessed a ship your size would have better sensors than mine."

Mara rubbed her lips. Well, unless you want to follow his hypers.p.a.ce vector, there's not a lot we can do about him right now. How about feeding us what your sensors got?"

The astromech droid made a rude sound. "It's all right, Artoo," Luke soothed. We can consider this their rescue fee."

"Part of their rescue fee," Man corrected. "We'll settle on the rest later."

"Understood," Luke agreed. "Here it comes."

"Got it," Faughn said.

"Thanks," Mara said. "You need anything else, Luke?"

"Not at your prices," he said dryly. "Seriously, thanks for everything."

"Glad we could help," Mara said. "Don't forget to have those injuries looked at."

"I won't," he a.s.sured her. "Artoo's already pulling up a list of the nearest New Republic medical facilities. See you later."

"Right. Watch yourself."

The comm clicked, and with a flicker of pseudomotion the X-wing made its jump to lightspeed. Mara gazed after it, a strange mixture of emotions chasing each other through her mind. The glowing reports she'd read of Luke's glorious achievements . . . and yet, they were a far cry from what she'd seen him do just now. Had something happened to him?

Or was be finally coming to his senses?

"Jade?" Faughn asked. "What now?"

Mara exhaled softly, putting Skywalker out of her mind. We shoot a report off to Karrde,"

she said, doing a quick time calculation. "See if he wants us to get back on schedule for the Nosken rendezvous or else try to track the pirates' escape route."

"Right," Faughn said. "Incidentally, Jade, in case no one's ever mentioned it before, you and Skywalker make a pretty good team."

Mara gazed out at the drifting asteroids. "Bite your tongue, Faughn," she said softly.

"Bite your tongue."

CHAPTER 10.

It was a hot day in this part of Dordolum. Hot and sunny, with an oppressively still and heavy atmosphere that seemed to wrap around the silent lunchtime crowd like a wet grov-fur blanket.

The speaker currently shouting at the crowd from his perch atop the Stand of Public Expression was adding to the heat, too. But unlike the weather his heat was a fiery one, a mixture of words and thoughts and stage presence carefully designed to inflame the emotions and stir up the dozens of long-simmering resentments represented out there today.

Practically everyone listening to the diatribe harbored at least one such quiet grudge, whether it be Ishori toward Diamala, Barabels toward Rodians, or Aqualish toward humans.

Or almost everyone toward Bothans. Letting his eyes drift across the crowd to the elaborate sign of the Bothan-owned Solferin Shipping Company directly across the plaza to their right, Drend Navett permitted himself a private smile.

It was a good day for a riot.

The speaker had made it to his main topic now, and as he hammered in graphic detail at the horror that had been the destruction of Caamas and the Bothans' cowardly and loathsome role in it, Navett could sense the crowd's anger finally edging toward the mindless fury that he'd been waiting for. Slowly, careful that his movement not break the spell for those around him, he began drifting toward the area closest to the shipping company. Klif might be a genius at demagoguery; but it was he, Navett, who knew how to gauge a crowd's mood and pick the right time for action.

Almost there. Navett was in position now, within easy targeting range of the shipping company. Dipping a hand into the bag banging un.o.btrusively at his side, he withdrew his weapon of choice and waited. Another few seconds . . . and . . . now.

"Justice for Caamas!" he shouted. "Justice now!" c.o.c.king his arm over his shoulder, he spun and hurled at the Bothan building&mdash And right on target, the overripe blicci fruit hit the door, splashing with a sickening thud and leaving a brilliant red stain behind.

There was a startled gasp from a couple of Duros standing nearby. But neither they nor anyone else in the crowd was going to be given enough time to think about what they were being suckered into here. From a half-dozen other places in the crowd the cry for justice was echoed, and a half-dozen other pieces of fruit splattered the building. "Justice for Caamas!" Navett shouted again, hurling another blicci fruit. "Vengeance for genocide!"

"Vengeance!" someone picked up the call, the cry accompanied by more of the nuisance missiles. "Vengeance for genocide!" Navett threw another blicci fruit, and another&mdash And then from somewhere an alien voice called hoa.r.s.ely, echoing the call for vengeance . .

. and as if that were somehow a signal, the crowd suddenly and gratifyingly collapsed into a mob. A rain of foodstuffs began to pelt the building, drawn from lunch bags and cartons and propelled by the mindless fury and pent-up rage that Klif had s o skillfully stirred up in them.

A rage that Navett had no intention of wasting on a few fruit stains. Reaching past the last blicci fruit in his bag, he pulled out a rough stone. Violence begets violence, he silently quoted the old maxim, and let fly.

It hit its target window dead on, shattering the plastic with a crash that could barely be heard above the roar of the mob. "Vengeance for genocide!" Navett shouted, waving his fist at the building and pulling out another stone.

The crowd were fast learners. The rain of fruit and eggs continued, but it began to be joined by some of the edging stones that lined the plaza's walkways and flower beds.

Navett threw another stone as four more windows became jagged holes, then took a quick moment to search the skies around them. Even taken by surprise this way, the Dordol authorities wouldn't take forever to respond.

And there was the expected response now, rapidly approaching from the direction of the s.p.a.ceport: three brightly colored customs airspeeders with an escort of maybe half a dozen speeder bikes. Moving fast, too; they'd be at the plaza in less than two minutes.

Which meant it was time to go. Slipping a hand inside his tunic to his hidden comlink, Navett tapped the call b.u.t.ton twice, the signal for the rest of his agitation team to move to the edges of the mob and vanish into the afternoon sunshine. Then, reaching past the last two stones in his pouch, he pulled out his final present to the Bothans.

It was a grenade, of course. But a very special grenade. Navett had personally taken it from the dead hand of a Myomaran resistance fighter ten years ago, during the Empire's brief reoccupation of that world under the meteoric reign of Grand Admiral Thrawn. What made this particular grenade so useful was that that resistance cell had somehow talked a visiting Bith into designing their weaponry for them. When the remains of the grenade were studied-as they most certainly would be-the New Republic would b e forced to the conclusion that even the generally pacifist Bith were beginning to join in on the side of the anti-Bothan sentiment.

Perhaps that wouldn't matter. Perhaps none of this really mattered. Perhaps the aliens and alien-lovers had so beaten down the Empire that nothing Navett and his team did could make any difference anymore.

But as far as their duty was concerned, such possibilities didn't really matter either.

Navett had seen the glory of the Empire, as well as its darker days . .

. and if that glory couldn't be revived, then it was only fitting that he help bury it beneath the ashes of the New Republic.

Pulling the safety, he flicked the detonator and threw. The grenade dropped neatly through one of the broken windows on the upper floor and vanished inside. He was halfway to the edge of the crowd when it went off, collapsing the roof and sending a spectacular fireball roiling into the sky.

He was out of the plaza and walking unconcernedly down the street with the rest of the noonday strollers when the authorities arrived at the scene of the fire.

The pet.i.tion scrolled to the end past the long list of signatures. Leia looked up from her datapad, an ache in her stomach. No wonder President Gavrisom had looked so solemn as he ushered her into his private office. "When was this delivered?" she asked.

"Approximately one hour ago," Gavrisom said, the tips of his wings brushing restlessly across the stacks of datacards that awaited his attention. "Under the circ.u.mstances, I thought you and Councilor Fey'lya should be given advance notice."

Leia looked at Fey'lya. The Bothan was hunched in his seat, fur pressed completely flat against his skin. "Why me?" she asked.

"Because you were the one who found the Caamas Doc.u.ment in the first place," Gavrisom said, flicking his tail in a Calibop shrug. "Because like the Caamasi you've had a world destroyed from underneath you and can therefore understand their plight better than most.

Because as a revered hero of the battle for freedom, you still have a great deal of influence with the members of the Senate."