dioramas, then made their way to the white-tiled corridor leading to the
souvenir shops, refreshment stands, and other parts of the museum. Threepio
wondered what the poor Bothan would think when he woke up lying inside the
web
lair of a cannibal arachnid from Duros.
A maintenance droid finished its turbolift repairs and removed the Out of
Service sign. Its two heads began humming a duet to themselves at having
completed a satisfying menial task.
Chewbacca pointed to the maintenance droid, but Threepio became
indignant. "What could a low-level maintenance droid possibly know about
this
situation? Those models aren't much smarter than loader vehicles." But a
large
Wookiee hand dragged him along. "Oh, all right, if you insist."
Chewbacca sprinted ahead and stood in the path of the trundling
maintenance droid. Automatic sensors instructed the droid to swerve one way,
then the other, but Chewbacca forced it to stop. The maintenance droid
emitted
a high-pitched whine of confusion.
Threepio came up behind it. "Excuse me," he said, and garbled out a long
series of crude binary questions. The maintenance droid answered with a blat
like a stepped-on steam whistle. Threepio repeated his question, but got the
same answer.
"I told you he'd be no use," Threepio said. "Maintenance droids aren't
programmed to notice anything. They just do their repairs and wait for new
instructions."
Chewbacca moaned, shaking his big hairy head.
Threepio said, "Oh, be quiet, you... you big walking carpet--I was not
talking too much! Besides, you're the one who has the life debt to Han
Solo."
The maintenance droid continued, oblivious to their bickering. Threepio
wished that he could simplify his own programming and be so blissfully
ignorant in the ways of the galaxy. He felt his circuits overheating as the
full impact of what might happen to him slammed down on his poor head.
"Master Solo will probably remove my legs and make me recompile and
alphabetize all the fragmented files in the Imperial Information Center!"
In the dim underworld Jacen pointed to a noisy machine in front of them
as the cluttered street widened. "Look," he said. "Droid."
The children ran, waving their hands and hoping to get the droid's
attention. But they stopped as the machine continued along a polished path
worn through the debris.
The droid was vastly older than the maintenance model up at the
turbolift. It had bulkier joints, squarish limbs; large bolts held the
pieces
together. The antique repair droid was little more than a mobile cart of
tools
with a torso, arms, and an angled hexagonal head. One of its optical sensors
had fallen off. Thick cables ran down its spine and along its neck, corroded
and caked with dust and dirt. Moss had begun to grow on its sides. It moved
with a stuttering motion as if desperately in need of lubricant.
Along the street a line of corroded poles stood a meter taller than the
twins. Atop each pole rested an old glowcrystal, engraved with magnifying
facets, but each crystal was a dead translucent gray, shedding no light into
the dim streets. Some poles had come loose from their ground-level moorings
and tilted sideways.
The repair droid worked its way to the end of the street, stopped at an
appropriate position, and ratcheted its torso high on accordion joints so
its
arms could reach the darkened glowcrystal. The droid removed the burned-out
crystal, cradling it carefully in segmented pincers. After placing it in the
back of the cart, the repair droid removed another thick glowcrystal from an
open bin. Following complex programming, the droid positioned the
replacement
crystal on top of the pole and activated it.
The new glowcrystal remained as dead and lightless as the first, but the
repair droid didn't seem to notice. It moved to the next pole, repeating the
process.
Jacen stood in front of the droid, addressing it in his best Daddy voice.
"We're lost," he said.
Jaina came up beside him. "Please help us find our home."
The repair droid ratcheted up as if in alarm, then lowered itself down to
study the children with its single optical sensor. "Lost?" it said in a
clanking voice.
"Home," Jaina insisted.
"Not in my programming," the droid said. "Not my main task." It ratcheted
up again and moved to a third malfunctioning glowcrystal pole. "Not in my
programming."
Jaina and Jacen began to cry. But upon hearing each other, rather than
reinforcing their tears, the twins stopped. "Be brave," Jaina said.
"Brave," Jacen agreed.
The two exhausted twins sat down on a time-smoothed chunk of duracrete in
the middle of the open street. They watched the repair droid continue
removing
dead glowcrystals from poles and replacing them with equally useless lights.
The droid moved all the way to the end of the street, unsuccessful in
getting any of the streetlights to work again. Then, picking up speed, it
whirred down the worn path it had traveled for a hundred years, back to
where
it had started.
The droid stopped in front of the first dead glowcrystal pole all over
again, ratcheted itself up, and replaced the lightless crystal it had
changed
only a short while earlier with another one....
Still reeling from the destruction of the Manticore, Admiral Daala
slumped against the bridge rail. She found herself at a loss for words as
the
battle on Calamari continued.
"Wipe them out," she said. "Open fire with all turbolaser batteries from
orbit. Target every floating city." She stared with glassy eyes out the
Gorgon's wide viewport. "Destroy them all."
She couldn't understand what had gone wrong. She had followed Grand Moff
Tarkin's tactics exactly. He had trained her carefully, giving her all the
information she should have needed. But since Daala had emerged from Maw
Installation, she had met with one disaster after another. The Sun Crusher
fallen into Rebel hands, the Hydra destroyed, and now the Manticore. True,
she
had been successful in hijacking a small supply vessel, and she had
obliterated an insignificant colony on Dantooine--but now on her first major
attack against a Rebel world, she had again lost a Star Destroyer through
her
own overconfidence.
She had failed. Utterly.
Beside the Gorgon in a companion flightpath rode the Basilisk. Together,
they fired volleys of turbolasers into the oceans, incinerating submerged
Calamarian structures. In moments they would cross the terminator line
between
day and night, where they could fire down upon two more of the massive
floating cities. They would vaporize the structures, sending all the
inhabitants to a watery death.
"Dispatch the last TIE squadron," she said, staring at the fiery
battlefield of the ocean world below. "I want to lay this entire planet
&n
bsp; waste.
"
"Admiral!" Commander Kratas ran between the sensor and tactical stations
and up the two steps to the observation platform. "Rebel battleships have
just
come out of hyperspace, an entire fleet, more than we can hope to fight."
Daala whirled in disbelief. "They responded to a distress call that
quickly?" Then she too saw the glinting figures of large battleships
streaking
like comets toward them in planetary orbit.
Her breath caught in her throat. The shipyards remained unscathed except
for minor sorties. She had not met her primary objective in the attack on
Calamari. Still... they had destroyed at least one floating city, wrecked
another, damaged two more.
"Recall all TIE squadrons," Daala said. "Plot a straight-line vector
through hyperspace to the Cauldron Nebula. We'll go back and reassess our
tactics, determine our losses." She paused, then raised her voice like a
torch
of anger. "And we'll prepare our next attack!"
The TIE fighters streamed back into the holds of the Star Destroyers. The
Rebel defensive forces swung around in orbit like a pack of carnivores.
Daala
did not dare risk fighting them, though she wanted nothing more than to rip
the throats out of their commanders with her bare hands.
"Ready for hyperspace," she said before the reinforcements could swoop in
to attack. Daala watched the starfields elongate into bright white lines
that
funneled into a vanishing point on the other side of the universe.
Her Star Destroyers entered hyperspace, leaving the New Republic forces
hopelessly behind.
Han Solo and Lando Calrissian soared through the skies of Calamari in the
Millennium Falcon, searching for columns of smoke rising from devastated
floating settlements.
They had found Foamwander City, but when they landed on one of the
emergency pads, they learned that Admiral Ackbar, Leia, and Ambassador
Cilghal
had already departed on a rescue mission to the sunken city of Reef Home.
Han, wrapped up in dismay at the devastation caused by Admiral Daala's
forces, felt no particular jubilation at being the pilot and owner of the
Falcon. All exhilaration at winning his ship back had evaporated upon seeing
the destruction that had been wreaked on the ocean world.
Lando sat at Chewbacca's station, staring at the navigation charts.
"Looks like Reef Home City should be coming up somewhere below. I detect
plenty of scattered metallic masses, but nothing that might be a
metropolis."
"No, just the remains," Han said in a low voice.
As they skimmed low, he looked out the Falcon's viewports at floating
wreckage scattered on the waves. Blackened tracings of blaster scars showed
prominently on the fragmented metal. Broken chunks of the floating city,
sealed an d airtight with flood bulkheads, remained afloat like buoyant
coffins; Calamarian and Quarren rescuers swarmed over the self-contained
segments, trying to break through to free those inside.
"That used to look like Cloud City," Han said. "Now it looks like
leftovers from a garbage masher." He pointed to a smooth chunk of Reef
Home's
outer shell. "Think we can set down on that section over there?"
Lando gave a nonchalant shrug. "Nobody'd even notice the Falcon among all
this other junk."
"Hey," Han said.
Lando looked at him. "She's your ship, Han. I just wish I had the Lady
Luck back."
Han set the Falcon down on the rocking plasteel debris, locked down the
stabilizers, then broke open the door seals. As he clambered down the exit
ramp, he scanned the rescuers to see if he could find Leia. He hadn't held
her
in his arms in so long.
As usual, when they were forced apart, he thought of all sorts of things
he wanted to say to her, the promises and sweet nothings she deserved,
though
he usually didn't manage to force them through his gruff exterior.
Lando followed him, and they both stared at the wounded who had been
dragged onto the floating wreckage of the Calamarian city. Although waves
sloshed over the metal edges, for now they had been designated infirmary
areas, relatively stable platforms on which the medics could tend the
injured.
The smell of blood and salt filled the air, mixed with the chemical
stench of laser burns, molten metal quenched in the sea, and smoke from
fires
that continued to burn.
Tentacle-faced Quarren bobbed up from the waves. Water trickled down
their heads as they brought up important components from Reef Home's
computer
core or personal items rescued from breached living quarters. The Quarren
would no doubt claim salvage rights for the entire hulk, and they would sell
personal belongings back to the Calamarians.
Han stood with his legs spread wide for greater balance on a drifting
fragment. The choppy sea made the platform lurch in slow motion, rocking up
and down. He finally noticed a wavespeeder skimming toward the wreckage.
Leia
piloted it, accompanied by Ackbar and a female Calamarian.
Han waved frantically, and the wavespeeder veered toward him, coming
alongside. Leia leaped off the vehicle as Ackbar lashed it to a ragged stump
of torn metal. She walked confidently, then ran, keeping her balance as she
flung herself into Han's arms. He hugged her against his chest as he kissed
her again and again. "I'm so glad you're safe!"
She looked at him. "I know."
"We think so, but we have no proof yet."
He cut her off. "No question in my mind about it. Daala has no political
motives--she just wants to destroy things."
The female Calamarian climbed out of the wavespeeder and went to the
triage area, glancing at the bleeding Calamarians as far too few medics
attempted to tend them. She walked among the injured, making quick
pronouncements, as if she could somehow determine their chances for
survival.
Two medics worked desperately to resuscitate a Quarren whose arm had been
amputated and his chest crushed. She took one glance and said, "He won't
survive, and you can do nothing more to make him survive." The two
Calamarian
healers looked at her and, seeing the absolute conviction on her face, moved
to another patient and let the Quarren die.
Like an angel of life and death, she walked among them, staring down,
tilting her head and swiveling her round Calamarian eyes from side to side.
Han watched her as she moved. "Who is that?"
"Her name is Cilghal. She's the Calamarian ambassador," Leia said, then
lowered her voice. "I think she has Jedi powers. She doesn't know it yet.
I'm
going to make sure she goes to see Luke." Leia hugged her husband again.
"I'm
so glad you came."
"I was on my way the moment I heard," Han answered. He cocked an eyebrow
as he looked at Lando. "By the way, we played another little game of sabacc
en
route. This time I won." He offered an arm to his wife. "Would you like a
ride
home in my ship, Leia?"
"The Falcon's yours again?" she said with delight, then slipped her arm
through his. Still grinning, she looked at Lando. "Sorry to hear that,
Lando."
He shrugged. "It was one way to get him off my back."
Ackbar climbed out of the skimmer and stood on the rocking wreckage. He
raised one broad hand to shield his lumpy brow as he looked over the
scattered
debris of Reef Home City. Han had never been good at telling expressions on
the Calamarian admiral's face, but Ackbar seemed devastated.
He went to where Ackbar stood all alone. "Admiral," Han said, "I heard
what you did, how you defeated an entire Star Destroyer. Great work."
Leia moved beside him in her white robes. "Admiral, your victory here
must make up for the simple accident on Vortex. I hope you aren't
considering
going back into hiding?"
Ackbar shook his massive head. "No, Leia. You've reminded me of one thing
with your friendly insistence. I am not the type of person who can hide. I
must do what I can, and as much as I can. Hiding is for others. Action is
for
myself."
Leia placed a hand on the Admiral's thick bicep. "Thank you, Admiral. The
New Republic needs you," she said.
But Ackbar shook his head. "No, Leia, I won't be returning to Coruscant.
After this attack I can see just how much my own people need me. I must stay
here on Calamari to help my people rebuild, to strengthen their
civilization,
and to tighten their defenses against future Imperial strikes.
"We still have not recovered from the onslaught of the World Devastators,
and now a new fleet has laid waste to our floating cities. I can't just
leave
Calamari now and go back." He turned his circular eyes up into the leaden
sky
and said, "This planet is my home. These are my people. I must devote my
energies to helping them."
Han slipped his arm around Leia's waist and squeezed her. She felt stiff
and cold; he knew exactly what she was thinking. "I understand... Ackbar,"
Leia said, finally dropping his military title.
Han could sense her tension, knowing how the loss of Ackbar devastated
her. Han gripped her shoulder, feeling iron cords of tension rippling
beneath
her smooth skin.