you cannot let him deliver these weapons. Think of how many people
these munitions will kill ... how much more blood will be on your
hands."
Han drew himself up. "Anja's right. We're going to have to confiscate
your cargo, Lilmit."
"You c-can't do that!" the smuggler wailed. "I've got m-mouths to
feed-an entire litter of offspring back at Ord Mantell. You'd put them
out into the streets! I'll f-file a complaint!"
"I happen to know it doesn't cost much more to get a license
permanently canceled than it costs to buy one in the first place."
Han's gaze didn't waver. "And in your case, I'd consider the credits
well spent. You might want to try a more reputable line of
business."
Han gestured to Lowie, who helped him lift a large crate of burrowing
detonators and set it in the center of the cargo floor, just above an
irising space hatch. "Let's pile these other crates on top," Han
said.
Zekk, Tenel Ka, and the twins used the Force to help, while Anakin did
his best to be of assistance in directing their efforts. Anja remained
where she was, her lightsaber still drawn as if daring Lilmit to argue
with them.
"I'll report you to the authorities on Ord Mantell," the smuggler
whined. "Y-you say you're confiscating my cargo, but you'll probably
fence it yourself, s-s-sell it on the black market."
"Hey, not a chance," Jacen said.
Han Solo opened up a crate and removed one of the powerful
detonators.
After setting its timer, he placed it back in the box and sealed it.
They locked all of the cargo crates together magnetically and coded the
locks to a single control. After Anakin scrambled the coded
combination for him, Han stood back. "I think we'd better leave our
friend Lilmit alone so he can jettison his crates."
"B-b-but there's a fortune tied up in those weapons!" the little man
said. He waved his webbed hands as his eyebrows flew upward like
flames to his wrinkled scalp.
Han drew his blaster and pointed toward the crate with the timer
ticking down. "If I were you, I'd get rid of the cargo, Lilmit. If
you don't your ship'll become the newest, brightest little star in this
part of the galaxy. I can't make that choice for you, but I'm not
going to wait around to see what you do." He gestured, and the young
Jedi Knights hurried after him to the Millennium Falcon's docking
port.
Lilmit wailed, "B-but I'll never get that open in time! How m-much
time did you set the countdown for?"
"Oh, a minute ... maybe two. Can't remember exactly."
The smuggler ran to the crate, pounded on its side. "I can't g-get it
open!"
"I suggest you jettison your cargo without delay," Tenel Ka said.
Lowbacca added his growl of affirmation.
The companions scrambled back into the Falcon. Han headed straight for
the pilot's seat and strapped himself in while Jaina released the
magnetic docking connection. They split away from the smaller cargo
hauler and drifted off to a safe distance.
"How long does he have, Dad?" Jaina asked.
"Plenty of time," Han said. "I think."
Finally they saw a cluster of glittering objects pop out from the
bottom of the smuggler's ship. Lilmit's sublight engines kicked in,
and he streaked away only moments before the jettisoned cargo
containers erupted into a white-hot ball of light.
:,Looks like he ' made the right decision," Jacen said.
"This is a fact," Tenel Ka agreed.
"Not bad, Solo," Anja said. "Your method was crude, but it's good to
know you occasionally do make the right decision."
Aboard his small ship, Lilmit swung between despair and outrage. He
had just lost a huge profit. It would have paid for his long-awaited
vacation on Tatooine. For years he had scrimped and saved so that he
could fly out under the double suns, soak up warmth from the glittering
sands, enjoy the wild nightlife in Mos Eisley. Now those dreams and
plans were trashed.
With trembling fingers he opened a special private comm signal. It was
time to express his anger to the people in charge. Perhaps they could
do something about this marauder, this space pirate named Han Solo.
Lilmit clenched a fist, trying to control his anger.
The image of Czethros appeared on the screen. The angry-faced leader
appeared greatly annoyed that Lilmit had bothered him. His red laser
eye burned bright behind his metal visor.
"You m-must do something about Han Solo!" the smuggler blurted,
leaning so close that his flat nose nearly touched the viewplate.
"He and a group of kids just boarded my ship en route to Anobis. They
confiseatedmy cargo and forced me to destroy all the weapons."
"Really?" Czethros said. "You didn't mention my name, did you?
I don't want Anja to know that Black Sun is involved in her own little
war."
"Of course I kept m-m-my mouth shut," Lilmit said. "But what am I
supposed to do rmow?"
"Obviously, you'll have to make up for these losses."
"D-don't you think I know that?" Lilmit said. "But I want you to make
Solo p-p-pay for this-in blood. I work hard, I pay my protection
money, and I do whatever you ask. Now it's time for Black Sun to do
something for me. K-keep the spacelanes to Anobis safe for us gun
runners." Czethros laughed, but the laser-red eye in his visor did not
waver.
"You can't order me around, Lilmit. You're no one, a mere underling
who drives a craft and delivers boxes."
Lilmit trembled, knowing he had overstepped his bounds in talking to
Czethros that way. One didn't make an enemy of the powerful crime
organization without paying a steep price. Thanks to the efforts of
Czethros, Black Sun's tentacles now reached into every known business
in this part of the galaxy.
Then Czethros did smile; it appeared to be a genuine smile, or perhaps
the man was a much better actor than Lilmit thought. "It just so
happens, though, that your wishes exactly parallel mine with regard to
Solo. Sort of a personal grudge of mine. Don't worry about it for
now."
"But how will I g-get restitution?" Lilmit stuttered.
"Someone has to p-pay for my lost cargo."
"You're absolutely right," Czethros said. "You do. You allowed
yourself to be boarded. You didn't deal with the situation properly,
and you lost the weapons. It comes out of your account."
Lilmit swallowed hard. He knew of no way he could escape his
obligation now.
Czethros laughed. "If it's any consolation, Solo is walking right into
he civil war on Anobis. He seems to think he can make everything
better, but I've got about a thousand different ways to make sure he
never leaves that planet alive."
"Well," Lilmit mumbled. "That's one thing to look forward to at
least." Slumping deep into his pilot chair, he switched off the
communications channel, then called up his credit records and banking
tables in an attempt to figure out how he could possibly pay for the
lost merchandise.
From the corner of her eye, sitting in the Falcon's copilot's seat,
Jaina observed the change in Anja's demeaner after the run-in with the
weapons smuggler. It seemed the thin, angry girl had gained a small
measure of respect for Han Solo, though it was clear she still carried
an enormous chip on her shoulder.
Then, as Han brought the ship down through the atmosphere of Anobis
toward the war-scarred inhabited areas, something happened to fire up
Anja's temper all over again.
She pointed to a wrinkled ridge of mountains in a temperate zone.
"My mining village is down there. The leader of the town, Elis, holds
great power in the loose federation of mountain villages. We should
talk to him. He'll confirm everything I've said."
"But aren't they the Imperial sympathizers?" Zekk said.
Anja bristled. "That's what the original debate was about, over twenty
years ago. Now the war has become ... something more."
But instead of heading for the mountains, Han arced the Falcon away
toward the flat fertile ground embroidered with rivers and green
forests, square patches that had once been fields, and small clusters
of homes. The farmland, now brown and abandoned, was dotted with small
craters.
"I want to try talking to the people of a farm village first," Han
said. "We've already heard Anja's side of the story. Let's get a
little perspective." Anja fumed. She jutted her chin forward. "You
don't believe me?
You think I lied to you?"
"I didn't say that at all," Han said.
"He just wants to get a different point of view now," Jacen said.
"Don't worry. We'll talk to both sides."
Anja lowered her voice. "Right. More than twenty years of war and a
former spice smuggler is supposed to trot in, talk to a few people, and
put an end to the fighting."
Tenel Ka's voice became gruff, matching Lowie's deep growl.
"Perhaps it is time someone did something to prevent your people from
continuing their fighting."
"You're asking for trouble," Anja said bitterly. "Those farmers down
there can't be trusted. They'll probably try to blast you out of the
skies as you come in for a landing."
"Good thing we just upgraded the Falcon's shields, then," Han said.
Jaina grimaced. "If we can't even land safely, how did you expect us
to survive in the midst of a whole civil war?"
Anja narrowed her eyes as if this exact question had occurred to her
already. Somewhat unsettled, Jaina turned back to the copilot controls
and scanned the ravaged landscape that rolled past beneath them.
Anobis had been an agricultural and mining colony world, never heavily
populated and somewhat off the beaten path, despite its easy access to
Ord Mantell. It seemed that the colonists managed to survive well
enough to build their homes and live their lives, but no one ever
became rich here. Except maybe the gun runners, Jaina thought, since
the war had continued for so many years.
Even before the days of the Empire, the miners and the farmers had
traditionally been separate groups with different needs and distinctly
different outlooks. From the sketchy background files her mother had
sent, Jaina knew that the miners and farmers had once cooperated with
each other, exchanging metals and raw materials for produce.
But the two groups had been divided by their political leanings during
the Rebellion. The miners, more dependent on offworld trade, worked to
maintain the status quo of the Empire. The farmers had wanted freedom
instead-the ability to succeed or fail on their own merits without the
angry yellow eyes of the Emperor watching them.
As galactic struggles had raged and resolved themselves independently
around Anobis, the colonists had battered each other, continuing to
fight long after the New Republic had won its victory.
As Jaina looked out the Falcon's cockpit windows, she saw a world with
the potential for beauty, but with so many scars that a long time of
peace would be needed for complete healing. A large forest fire burned
in the hills, far from the nearest farming village. It might even have
been a natural fire.
"Jacen," Han said, "try the comm system; see if you can talk to anybody
down there. Let them know we're here to help, not to fight."
Anja rolled her eyes and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest.
Jacen sent out repeated calls on the comm system, but received no
answer.
"Doesn't mean they don't hear us," Jaina pointed out. "They might just
"Or they might be setting a trap," Anja said.
Han brought the ship in low over the largest fanning village he could
find. Jaina maneuvered the Falcon to a smooth landing not far from the
cluster of rickety homes. The boarding ramp extended, and the group
climbed out, blinking in the hazy sunlight of the war-torn world.
In the distance, the smoke from the distant fire curled up from the
hills.
The timid villagers slowly crept out of their huts, heads lowered and
shoulders hunched. They gaped in astonishment and fear at the strange
spaceship. Jaina and her companions lifted their hands in a wave of
greeting.
Han Solo said, "I'm an official representative from the New Republic,
come to investigate your civil war and to offer any assistance we
can."
The people remained quiet and did not venture any farther out of their
shelters.
"You'd think they'd have some kind of welcoming conu-nittee," Zekk
muttered. He stepped close to Jaina.
"Maybe they can't afford one," Han mused aloud.
The buildings needed a great deal of work. Every one of them had
obviously been patched and rebuilt numerous times in the wake of
repeated battles. Some of the walls were new; others were composed
entirely of salvage and scrap. A rickety grain-storage tower barely
managed to stand upright at the rear of the village.
The hazy sky was bright, the air humid and warm, smelling of smoke.
Cleared flatlands extended into the distance toward a thick forest that
separated them from the rugged mountains. From what little Jaina knew
about farming, she suspected this should have been the peak of the
growing season-but she saw only a few skittish figures out working in
the fields, hopping and dodging about in a strange way that made no
sense to her. No crops grew in the barren fields, only a few patches
of greenery that had sprouted all on their own.
Jacen bowed and flashed a friendly smile, trying to charm the
villagers. "Take us to your leader?"
Finally, several of the farmers came out. Their eyes were sunken,
their faces gaunt. Some looked angry; many wore bandages from
injuries.
Anja hung back, scowling, and muttered to Jacen, "I can't believe we
were ever afraid of these people. They look too skittish to fight a
nerf colt."
"They've probably been through a lot," Jacen said.
"So have my people in the mountains," Anja retorted.
The other villagers faced one of the central d
wellings and waited until
a door swung open and a broad-shouldered man hobbled out. He had
obviously once been a muscular person, perhaps a great farmer who could
lift his own weight in punja grain or fight herd beasts bare-handed.
But now the man's skin had a pale appearance, as if he spent all his
time indoors.
As he stepped forward, the man's left foot clanked on the ground.
Jaina saw that his real leg had been amputated just below the knee; he
wore a makeshift replacement limb, cobbled together from secondhand
droid parts that didn't quite fit together. Although the servomotors
no longer functioned, the man used his droid limb as a peg leg to help
him walk about as he needed.
"We don't get many visitors here," the man said, "except for people
wanting to sell us weapons ... or to prey on us."
"We're not trying to do either," Han Solo said. "We want to help. "
"Then I don't know what you think you can do for us." The man sighed
and clomped forward, extending a callused hand. Han Solo took it
gratefully. Jaina also shook the man's hand while the others greeted
him in their own ways. Anja remained at a distance, her face a mask of