And for that, he needed information.
After stopping at the port office to authorize Starway Services to move
Mud Slotb to their work bay,
Luke returned to the skiff. Locking the entry not only against strangers but against Akanah as well, he settled
at the flight console and began making queries.
A connection to Utharis GridLink gave him ac-cess-at a refreshingly
reasonable price--to both New Republic Prime and Coruscant Global
archives, as well as to the back numbers of several smaller
newsgrids.
But the most complete information Luke found came from two local
services, Eye-On-U and Taldaak Today! The Coruscant-based grids were
obsessed with Imperial City politics and offered only a cursory--and
frequently mis-leading-overview of the military aspects of the
crisis.
"Access Fleet Watch," Luke said. The newspacket of the Alliance
Veterans Victory Association, Fleet Watch was usually current enough
and comprehensive enough that many senior staff members at Fleet HQ
kept it on their browse lists as a supplement to official sources.
"Requested source is temporarily unavailable," the comm pad reported.
"Why?"
"Access has been voluntarily suspended by the provider. Message
available."
"Let's hear it."
The recording contained a familiar face and voice--that of Brigadier
Bren Derlin, NRDF, Ret. Der-lin and Luke had been thrown together on
Hoth, where Derlin had been one of the field commanders at the Rebels'
base. Derlin was more of a steadying influence than a leader, but he
was a good soldier and a quiet but likable man. Luke had not seen him
again until war's end, and since then only once, at the ceremonies when
more than a hundred Hoth survivors gathered to dedicate a memorial to
the many more who had fallen there.
Now Derlin was commander of the AVVA, an organization with the status
of a retirees' club but the ambition to be something more akin to a
militia or the Fleet's ready reserve. The recording began with a
spiral of unit insignias surrounding the AVVA logo, and a smart salute
from a uniformed Derlin.
"Thank you for your inquiry. Due to the current military situation,
the AVVA board of governors has placed the membership on a status two
alert. For security reasons, access to past and current volumes of
Fleet Watch has been restricted to members only. Please join us in
supporting the soldiers and pilots who are even now risking their lives
to guard our freedom."
"How long has that lockout been in effect?" Luke asked the comm pad.
"Nine days."
"I wonder what happened to bring that on," Luke said, scratching his
head. "What else do you have?
Show me a list."
After another half hour, Luke had satisfied himself that he had all the
information he was likely to garner from public news sources.
Unfortunately, it was not enough to settle his mind.
He was more reluctant to contact Coruscant directly than he had been
the last time he needed information.
If a contact watch had been set up for his authorization codes, even
querying the impersonal, automated sources might throw him into the
middle of a conversation he didn't want to have--with Ackbar, or
Behn-Kihl-Nahm, or Han, or possibly even Leia herself.
For the question gnawing at Luke was not whether Leia wanted his help,
but whether she needed it. If his presence might mean the difference
between triumph and defeat, then he would go to her--as she had come to
him in his darkest moment, aboard the clone Emperor's flagship.
Leia had pulled him back from the precipice of the dark power, and
joined her power to his to defeat Palpatine. If she had not been
willing to sacrifice herself and the child inside her in confronting
the reborn Emperor, Luke would never have broken the grip of the dark
side--and the history of the intervening years would have been written
But having seen not only the great strength in her heart but also the
Jedi power she could summon, Luke was all the more loath to volunteer
himself as a rescuer.
He knew that Leia had within her extraordinary resources of will and
power--resources she had of late become reluctant to draw upon. Luke
thought that he was much of the reason, with both his example and his
presence creating disincentives. It was important that she find that
strength again.
It seemed to Luke that Leia had neglected, even abandoned, her own
training, and that her training of the children had become unbalanced,
with the disciplines of warrior and weapon excised as if they were
dispensable. Luke had not spoken of it with her, but from what he had
seen, it was almost as though Leia hoped to delay, training the
children as Jedi clerics rather than as Jedi Knights--as if the path
before her, the path he had followed, promised to take her somewhere
she did not want to go.
It was her choice to make. Her destiny was no more clear to him than
it was to her. But whatever that destiny was, it seemed that she was
fighting it rather than following it.
And it was certain she would learn nothing from an errant Knight's
well-intentioned but unnecessary res-cue--if she would even allow it to
happen. Knowing her streak of aristocratic, self-reliant pride, Luke
was not at all confident he could count on her to ask for help, even if
she needed it--not after the fight they had had the night he left
Coruscant.
No, those around her, the others who loved her, would urge Luke to
return to her side, no matter what the circumstances. And Leia herself
would insist that he stay away, no matter what the circumstances. It
was essential that Luke make his own assessment of the situation, that
the decision be his alone. And it was better that Luke stay out of
sight and out of reach until the decision was made.
Ackbar, especially, would never understand, Luke thought in passing.
He's as devoted to her as a good father to a beloved child--I wonder
how clearly she sees it.
Still, he needed more information--information that could only come
from Coruscant. He began by retrieving his registered hypercomm
messages from the master archive maintained by the Communications
Office.
As a hedge against the vagaries of hyperspace transmission, the archive
kept a copy of every registered-recipient message sent out over the New
Republic system. Undeliverable messages were held until their intended
recipients requested an update--something most people did routinely
every time they emerged from hyperspace.
But save for those few hours while outbound from Teyr, Luke had been
off the system since leaving Yavin 4.
The update took nearly twenty minutes to spill into Mud Slotb's comm
bank. As always, there were hundreds of blind messages--love letters
and propositions, requests for personal favors, questions from amateur
and would-be Jedi, the occasional diatribe from an Imperialist
stubbornly resisting the i
dea that his world had changed.
Luke almost never looked at any of it. The novelty value of blatant
proposals had long ago faded, and the one-two punch of praise and
begging had worn thin even faster--it was as uncomfortable as being
surrounded by a crowd in which everyone wanted to touch him.
The priority queue contained a copy of the message from Streen, which
Luke realized he had never viewed and released, and a second message
from him time-stamped a day later. But there were no other messages
from the twenty or so senders on his priority list--and that was
something of a surprise. By and large, he had not announced his
hermitage to his friends, so he could only suppose that the word had
spread from the few who did know of his self-imposed isolation.
"Show me number one," said Luke.
Streen's face appeared. "Master Luke," he said,
Threepio.
But I regret to say that so far, I've been unable to deliver them.
Perhaps it slipped your mind that the droids are now with Lando
Calris-sian?
I'll try to locate them and forward your message to "Lando," Luke said,
shaking his head in surprise.
"What would the droids be doing with him? Show me number two."
Streen's face shifted to the right, and his caftan changed from
goldenrod to rus. "Master Luke," he said, bowing his head once more.
"I've tried to contact Lando Calrissian by every means available to me,
without any success. I not only can't get a message through, I can't
find anyone who'll admit to knowing where he or the droids are. It's
possible that they're simply in hyperspace somewhere, but I'm guessing
that there's more to this, and you probably know more about it than I
do.
I'm afraid you'd better see to this on your own."
The combination of the two messages left Luke mystified, but he did not
devote much time or energy to penetrating the mystery. Apparently
Lando had absconded with the tWo droids, probably in furtherance of
some scheme--any deeper understanding would have to wait. The droids'
errand had become moot, in any case.
If Luke went on with Akanah, he would have all the answers he needed in
just a few days.
Luke considered the long list of sources he had tapped the last time,
but none seemed promising enough to justify the time and trouble. What
he really wanted most was something he had tried for before and been
denied--the Fleet Office's daily tactical briefing memorandum.
But to get one, he would have to find a military-grade secure-link
hypercomm. Or--"Access Fleet Almanac," he said.
"Ready."
"Reference current location."
"Referencing Taldaak Station, Utharis."
"Identify the nearest Fleet asset in this sector--training center,
repair yard, supply base, whatever."
'This access requires a current level blue authorization code."
Luke rattled off his code. "Now give me some good news."
The only New Republic Defense Fleet installation on Utharis was a tiny
listening post. The listening post consisted of a three-man office in
Taldaak, a four-man maintenance crew flying a work skipboat based at
the planet's main geosynchronous station, and a pair of complex antenna
arrays located in hundred-year solar-polar orbits.
The highest-ranking officer on orbit was a senior specialistdirtside,
it was a green lieutenant in the first month of a yearlong rotation.
The operational continuity of the post came largely from the three
civilian employees, all Utharis natives.
It was one of those civilians who Luke encountered first when he
entered the security foyer of the listening post's small silo-dome,
located adjacent to an abandoned Imperial fighter base, now home only
to wild jack-a-dale and black-winged touret. Luke had dressed to the
Jedi stereotype, black cape and dangling light-saber, and allowed the
Li Storm disguise to dissolve as he passed through the concussion
hatch.
"I am here to see the post commander," Luke said, resting his palm on
the scanner.
The young woman looked up at him with eyes widened by surprise. Her
tattooed forehead and cheeks marked her as a follower of the Duality, a
popular and benign Tarrack cult founded on the tWin principles of joy
and service. She looked down at the scanner when it beeped at her,
then back up to Luke's face wearing a look of awe on her own.
"You are him," she said.
Luke flashed a small smile as he lifted his hand from the scanner.
"But I am not here," he said.
"I understand."
"Who is the duty officer?"
"Tomathy--Senior Specialist Manes. Lieutenant Ekand comes on in two
hours. But I can call him in early--" "There's no need," said Luke.
"I will speak with Manes. Clear me through, please."
"Yes, of course."
The secure room of the installation accounted for the rest of the
volume of the silo--a floor full of instrument stations, a domed
ceiling fifteen meters overhead, and two rings of catwalks spaced
between to give access to the transceiver arrays.
"I'll be right down," called a voice from above.
That was followed by the brisk clatter of shoes descending metal-mesh
stairs.
While waiting, Luke sized up the installation. The first thing that
struck his eye was that the data system used three black-bodied memory
droids for storage.
That meant that everything of value, staff and secure data, could be
removed from the post in a matter of minutes in a six-place speeder or
orbital jumper.
"My goodness," Manes said, his steps slowing as he reached the main
level and saw Luke clearly. "My goodness. This is an honor." As an
afterthought, he gathered himself for a salute. "Forgive me, sir--I
don't know your proper rank--" "I no longer hold one," said Luke,
leaning over one of the data stations.
"Oh--I see. Then I'll confess that I've never met a Jedi. Nothing
unusual there, I guess--I don't know anyone who has. Is there a proper
form of address--" "You can call me Luke."
"Of course. Thank you." Manes shook his head.
"Forgive me for staring. I'm on my second tour here, and in all that
time you're only the second person to come through that door who didn't
work here. And to have it be you--" As though suddenly aware of his
flustered babbling, Manes cut himself off. "How can I help you,
Luke?"
"I need a copy of the current tactical briefing memorandum."
"Of course. You can use the comm pad at my station"right over here--"
"I need you to retrieve it for me," Luke said. "I'm here on a
sensitive matter, and I can't have my location revealed."
"Got it," said Manes. "No problem. We get the teebeam twice a day.
I'll bring the latest one up for you."
"I need a copy I can take with me." As he spoke, Luke reached out with
the Force and gave the senior specialist a gentle nudge.
Manes stared blankly for just a moment. "What am I thinking," he
said.
"You'll want a copy you can take with you. I'll get a datacard."
"Thank you."
Less than five minutes later, Li Stonn was climbing into his rented
speeder, the datacard securely tucked away. But he did not immediately
drive away. Sitting at the controls, Luke reached out into the
listening post and found its two occupants excitedly discussing their
surprise visitor.
The event had given both such inexplicable pleasure that he hated to
take those memories away from them, but he had no choice. He had
already blocked the machine records of his visit from being written to
the logs. Compressing a nerve here, a blood vessel there, Luke brought
on a moment of unconscious paralysis, and in that moment swept the
memories from their minds.
Akanah had not yet returned to the skiff, nor had the 'service depot's
tow dolly come to claim it. Taking advantage of the privacy, Luke
locked himself inside while he reviewed the information on the
datacard.
The situation in Koornacht Cluster had escalated to a high level of
precariousness. New Republic forces had clashed with a Yevethan fleet
at Doornik 319 while trying to enforce a blockade, and dozens of Fleet