incredulously. "You want us to rescue
Admiral Daala after she deserted us? You have
an odd sense of obligation, Captain."
"But," the stormtrooper said, "aren't we all
fighting the same battle?"
Sivron frowned. "In a sense, perhaps. But
we must have different priorities — as Daala
herself evidenced by leaving us behind."
He saw the Rebel ships opening fire on the
lone Star Destroyer, saw the attack increasing
as starfighters met TIE fighters in a flurry
of pinpoint laser strikes. The colorful
battle had a hypnotic effect — and he thought
of the blazing heat storms on the Twi'lek
homeworld of Ryloth.
He felt a lump of comet ice form in his
stomachs. His career had been long and successful,
but he was about to end it by destroying the facility he
had so successfully administered for years and
years.
In the pilot chair of the Death Star
prototype, Sivron said in a cold voice,
"All right, let us show Admiral Daala we
scientists can hold our own."
Suddenly an alarm ratcheted through the chamber.
Sivron sighed. "Now what?"
Yemm and Doxin both flipped through their
manuals, searching for an explanation.
"We've detected intruders," the
stormtrooper captain answered. "On the power
core itself. It seems we picked up one of those
smuggler ships near Kessel."
"Well, what do they think they're doing?"
Sivron asked.
"According to our sensor cameras, two people have emerged
from their ship and — as far as we can tell — are
attempting some sort of sabotage."
Sivron sat up in alarm. "Well, stop
them!" He snatched the manual out of Doxin's
hands and flipped through the pages. "Use emergency
procedure number — was He continued to skim over
the pages, squinting down at the bulleted lists,
flipped a few more pages before tossing the book
aside in disgust. "Well, just use the correct
procedure, Captain. Do something!"
"We have only a few men and not much time," the
captain said. "I'll order two
spacetroopers to suit up and take care of the
intruders personally."
"Yes, yes," Sivron said, waving his
clawed hand, "don't bother me with
details. Just get the job done."
Lando tilted the face shield of his enormous
helmet back and forth, the better to see with, but the
Wookiee — sized suit folded around him in
strange and uncomfortable ways. He had to work
twice as hard just to figure out where he was going.
His magnetic boots clomped on the metal
plating of the gigantic cylindrical power core.
Tapered at one end like a spindle with a
diamond — hard point, the core pressed against
another contact point that rose from the south pole
of the Death Star. Between the two points starfire
crackled as the charge built up.
The skeleton of girders and access tubes,
walled — off compartments, temporary quarters, and
storerooms, formed a giant cage around them.
Linked catwalks spanned open spaces like a
tangled net. Though the prototype was the size
of a small moon, it held very little gravity.
Lando had to work hard to keep his balance, letting his
magnetic boots determine the direction
"down."
"We have to go closer to the energy pods," Mara
said, her voice buzzing through the tiny earphone.
Lando looked for a way to respond and finally
figured out how to activate his own helmet
microphone. "Whatever you say. The sooner I
get rid of these detonators, the happier
I'll be." He sighed partly to himself but also for
Mara's benefit. "You'd think destroying one
Death Star in a man's lifetime would be enough."
"I prefer men who never settle for enough,"
Mara answered.
Lando blinked, not sure how to take her comment.
He allowed himself a broad grin.
Holding out his gloved hand to steady Mara, Lando
worked his way down the immense cylindrical
core. He tilted his visor to shield himself from the
glare pouring from the discharge at the contact points.
Above them the pronged disk of the Falcon clung
to a thick girder.
"Should be good enough here," Mara said, reaching out.
"Give me the first detonator."
Lando rummaged in the shielded container and
withdrew one of the thick disks. Mara cradled it
in her padded glove and bent down to fasten it to the
metal hull.
"We'll work our way around and place them on
the perimeter," she said, pushing her thumb
down on the synchronization button. The
detonator lit up with seven lights blinking
slowly, like a heartbeat, waiting for final
activation.
"When they're all emplaced," Mara's
voice said, "we'll give ourselves twenty standard
minutes. That should be ample time to get back to the
Falcon and get away."
Without waiting for him to agree, Mara worked her
way around the curving reactor core and turned
to take a second detonator from him, planting
it squarely against the plating.
Lando felt the faint vibrations of the core
throbbing against his magnetic boots. The stored
power seemed to be restless, building, waiting to be
unleashed.
It seemed to take forever to traverse the
circumference of the vast power core, planting the
seven detonators. When they returned to their
starting point, Mara leaned closer so Lando could
see her face through the curved faceplate.
"Ready, Calrissian?"
"Sure thing," Lando answered.
She punched the activator button on the first
device. All around the perimeter the
detonators winked blue as they began their
countdown.
"Back to the Falcon. Hurry," Mara
said. Lando clomped after her.
A movement caught his eye from the side of the
bucket — sized helmet, and he turned his head just
in time to see the blocky armored suit of an
Imperial spacetrooper. The enemy looked like
a man — shaped AT — AT walker with reinforced
joints on elbows and knees, heavy boots — and
vibroblades like claws in his gloves. One
slash and the spacetrooper could rip open Lando's
suit, killing him with explosive
decompression.
The spacetrooper emerged from an access hatch
in the framework above. He let the low gravity
cushion his fall as his bulk dropped onto the
power core. His heavy boots clanged on the
metal as he landed next to Lando and Mara.
"Where did he come from?" Lando said, ducking as
the spacetrooper lunged with the vibroblades in his
gloves. Lando bent backward like a mucus
tree in a gale. His magnetic boots held
his feet in place, but he
threw himself in the
opposite direction. Vibroblades
slashed past his chest.
Mara reacted more swiftly, swinging the empty
padded container that had held the detonators,
putting all her momentum behind it. The sharp — edged
metal banged against the spacetrooper's thick
helmet.
The trooper reached up, stabbing through the plated
case with vibroblade claws. Mara used his
temporary disorientation to grab Lando and add his
mass to her own as she shoved the spacetrooper.
With her foot Mara pried free one of the
spacetrooper's boots as he fought to regain his
balance. She slammed against him, breaking the
magnetic grip of his other boot. In an
instant the trooper snapped free.
Suddenly unattached to the core, he dropped
with the momentum imparted by the force of Mara's
attack. The spacetrooper scrabbled to find
purchase against the smooth cylindrical hull as
he slid down toward the fiery contact points.
The vibroblades in his glove made long,
silvery score marks on the metal, but did no
good.
Sucked inexorably down, the trooper
plunged into the flaming discharge between the contact
points and vaporized in a bolt of
green — and — blue static.
The detonators continued their countdown.
Lando signaled. "We're on our way,
Han, old buddy. Make sure you're ready
to go."
When he felt a vibration through his boots,
Lando looked up to see another spacetrooper
drop down from the catwalks. This one carried a
blaster rifle, but Lando guessed that the trooper
dared not use it in the vicinity of the power core.
The second trooper brought his blaster rifle
to bear, motioning for them to surrender, but no voice
came over their helmet radios. Lando wondered
if the trooper had tuned to a different
frequency, or if he merely expected the
blaster rifle to be a universal language.
"Can he hear us?" Lando said.
"Who knows? Distract him. Our time is
running out." Lando waved his gloved hands and
pointed down the expanse of metal to the blinking
detonators. He flapped his palms
frantically and threw his arms wide to mime an
explosion.
As the spacetrooper glanced in the
other direction, Mara launched herself forward and
grabbed the barrel of his blaster rifle, using it like
a lever. In free fall her own momentum
knocked him free, sending the trooper tumbling
back up toward the catwalks.
"Let's go! Don't worry about him," Mara
said, returning to Lando's side. "Get to the
Falcon before those detonators blow."
Mara and Lando toiled back to the ship still clinging
to the support girders. Behind them the second
spacetrooper managed to reach out and grab one of the
tangled coolant pipes, stopping his reckless
tumble. He descended toward the power core again,
ignoring Lando and Mara as he hurried to the
detonators.
Lando felt Chewbacca's enormous baggy
suit folding around him, making it difficult
to walk. He looked back and saw the
spacetrooper working with the detonators, but he
knew Mara had cyberlocked them together. With only
a few minutes left, the spacetrooper would be
able to do nothing.
Less than a minute before the timed detonation,
Lando and Mara sealed themselves inside the Falcon
just as Han disengaged the landing claw.
"Glad you could join me!" Han said, immediately
punching the accelerators.
The Falcon raced back out along the Death
Star's equator. Its sublight engines flared
white — hot behind it.
The surviving spacetrooper managed to reach the
ring of detonators. He worked meticulously but
rapidly, disconnecting each one, using the
built — in laser welder in his suit to remove the
explosives. He tossed each one, still blinking,
into the open space.
He succeeded in disarming six of the seven
detonators. He was standing right above the last one,
prying it up, when it exploded beneath him.
Outside, in the midst of the space battle,
Admiral Daala gritted her teeth. Her
face wore a perpetual look of disdain as she
stared at the dizzying firefight.
The attack was not going well. Her forces were
being gradually worn away. She hadn't had many
TIE fighters to start with; most of them had been
left behind in the Cauldron Nebula when she had
wheeled the Gorgon about to escape the
exploding stars. She had only her reserves, and
most of those squadrons had been wiped out
by Rebel starfighters.
When the Death Star prototype reappeared
among the gases overhead, Daala felt a
thrill of awe. She rejoiced at the enormous
destructive potential suddenly available
to her. The tide of the battle had turned — notow they
could wipe out the Rebel infestation.
But when she determined that the prototype was
piloted by the incompetent fool Tol Sivron,
her hopes dwindled. "Why doesn't he
fire?" she said. "One blast and he could take out
all three corvettes and the frigate. Why
doesn't he fire?"
Commander Kratas stood by her side. "I can't
say, Admiral."
expected an answer. "Tol Sivron has
never had any initiative in his entire life,"
she said. "I should have known I couldn't expect him
to do his duty now. Redouble our efforts against the
Installation. Let us show Tol Sivron how it
must be done."
She narrowed her brilliant eyes to look
around the bridge. "Enough practice," she said.
"It's time to destroy Maw Installation once and for
all. Open fire!"
In the Maw Installation operations room, one
of the technicians pounded her fist on a control
deck. "Shields are failing, General
Antilles!" she announced.
Another engineer ran in from the outside
corridor, florid — faced and puffing. Sweat
plastered his hair to his forehead, and his blue
eyes were glassy with panic. "All this pounding
has knocked out the temporary cooling systems
we installed on the reactor asteroid! It was
never meant to withstand such punishment. The reactor's
going to explode — noto chance of patching it this time."
Wedge gritted his teeth and looked to Qwi.
He squeezed her hand. "Looks like we're about
to save Daala the trouble," he said. "Time
to evacuate."
Beside him Luke whirled around. "Hey! Where's
Kyp?"
But the young man was gone.
"I don't know," Wedge answered, "but we
don't have time to look for him now."
* * *
Kyp Durron's heart hammered, but he used
a Jedi calming routine, forcing himself to relax.
He required his bodily systems to operate
efficiently, providing strength where he needed it,
allowing neither fear nor exhaustion to hinder him.
The tumult of alarms and the external attack
rattled the Installation. New Republic
soldiers ran across corridors, grabbing
equipment and rushing back to their transports.
No one stopped to look at Kyp; if anyone
had bothered to question him, he would have used a simple
Jedi trick to distract them, blur their
memories, making them believe they had never seen
him.
Kyp was pleased that Master Skywalker had not
noticed his departure. With the sudden appearance of the
Death Star prototype and the continued pounding from the
Gorgon, Kyp had known what he must do.
He also knew Master Skywalker would try
to stop him, and Kyp had no time for that.
He had used his own powers — light — side
powers, he fervently hoped — to .tract everyone
while he slipped out into the corridor. He had
blanked his thoughts, his keyed — up emotions; unless
Master Skywalker made a directed effort
to pinpoint him, Kyp would go unnoticed in the
chaos.
As he ran, the tempo of the battle outside
increased, and he knew that the Installation would not
last much longer. If the Death Star prototype
managed even one shot, they would be annihilated
in an instant. That was the primary threat at the
moment.
As he sprinted down the rocky tunnels to the
maintenance bay where he had landed the Sun
Crusher, he recalled when he and Han had fled
through the spice mines of Kessel. The memory of
Han brought a deep pang.
The Death Star had reappeared in the center of the
Maw, but Kyp had seen no sign of the
Millennium Falcon. Did that mean Han
was dead, destroyed in his sabotage attempt?
Kyp had been cursed with impulsiveness,
making his decisions and acting on them without thinking
of the consequences. Right now, though, that was a strength.
He had to fight against the New Republic's
mortal enemies, and he could not ponder
and debate the ultimate results of his actions.
Kyp knew he had a great deal to atone for.
He had listened to the dark teachings of Exar Kun.
He had struck down his teacher and Jedi Master.
He had wiped clean the memories of Qwi
Xux. He had stolen the Sun Crusher and
obliterated entire star systems ... he had