Heirs of the Force

6

The warm afternoon sun sparkled in the heavy, moist air as Lowbacca accompanied his uncle and Han Solo back to the Millennium Falcon. Beside him the Solo twins chattered gaily, apparently oblivious to the thick jungle heat. He could sense an underlying tension, though: Jacen and Jaina would miss their father every bit as much as he would miss his uncle Chewbacca, his mother, and the rest of his family back on Kashyyyk.

Lowbacca’s golden eyes flicked uneasily about the clearing in front of the Great Temple. He was still uncomfortable with wide-open spaces so close to the ground. On the Wookiee homeworld all cities were built high in the tops of the massive intertwining trees, supported by sturdy branches. Even the most courageous of Wookiees seldom ventured to the inhospitable lower levels of the forest—much less all the way to the ground, where dangers abounded.

To Lowbacca, height meant civilization, comfort, safety, home. And although the enormous Massassi trees towered up to twenty times as high as any other plant on Yavin 4, compared with the trees of Kashyyyk they were midgets. Lowbacca wondered if he would ever find a place high enough on this small moon to make him feel at ease.

Lowie was so lost in thought that he was startled to see that they had arrived at the Falcon.

“Never have the chance to do a preflight when we’re under fire,” Han Solo said, “but it’s a good idea when we do have the time.” Standing at the foot of the entry ramp, he smiled disarmingly at them. “If you kids aren’t too busy, Chewie and I could use some help doing the preflight checks.”

“Great,” Jaina said before anyone else could respond. “I’ll take the hyperdrive.” She rushed up the ramp, pausing for only a millisecond to brush a kiss on her father’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”

Han Solo looked immensely pleased for a long moment before bringing himself back to business with a shake of his head. “So, kid, you got any preferences?” He looked at Lowie, who thought briefly, then rumbled his reply.

Although Han Solo had doubtless understood him very well, the pesky translator droid piped up. “Master Lowbacca wishes to inspect your ship’s computer systems in order that he might tell it where to go.”

Han Solo gave Chewbacca a sidelong glance. “Thought you said you fixed that thing,” he said, indicating Em Teedee. “It needs an attitude adjustment.”

Chewbacca shrugged eloquently, gave a menacing growl, and administered emergency repair procedure number one: he held the silvery oval with one huge hand while he shook the little droid until the circuits rattled.

“Oh, dear me! Perhaps I could have been a bit more precise,” the droid squeaked hastily. “Er… Master Lowbacca expresses his desire to perform the preflight checks on your navigational computer.”

“Good idea, kid,” Han Solo agreed, briskly rubbing his palms together. “Jacen, you take the exterior hull; see if anything’s nested in the exterior vents in the last couple of hours. I’ll start on the life-support systems. Chewie, you check the cargo bay.”

This last was said with a lift of the chin and a twinkle in Han Solo’s eye that Lowbacca knew must have meant something to the older Wookiee—but Lowie hadn’t a clue. He wondered dispiritedly if he would ever understand humans as well as his uncle did.

The navicomputer was an enjoyable challenge. Lowie ran through all the preflight requirements twice—not because he thought he might have missed something the first time, but because the two places he felt most at home were in the treetops and in front of a computer.

By the time Lowie completed his second run-through, Han Solo had already finished with the life-support systems and was now checking out the ship’s emergency power generator. When he saw Lowbacca, Han wiped his hands on a greasy rag, tossed it aside, and held up one finger as if an idea had just come to him. “Why don’t you give your uncle a hand in the cargo hold while I finish up here.” His roguish grin was even more lopsided than usual.

Lowbacca wondered what the smile meant and why his uncle should still need his help with the cargo. Sometimes humans were very difficult to understand. With a shrug, he headed toward the cargo bay.

“Excuse me, Master Lowbacca,” Em Teedee piped up, “but will you be needing my translating services at this time?”

Lowbacca growled a negative.

“Very well, sir,” Em Teedee said. “In that case, would you mind if I put myself into a brief shutdown cycle? If you should require my assistance for any reason, please do not hesitate to interrupt my rest cycle.”

Lowie assured Em Teedee that the miniature droid would be the first to know if he needed anything from him.

He found his uncle clambering across a mountain of crates and bundles, checking the securing straps. Apparently Lando Calrissian needed a good many supplies for his new mining operation.

Even in the crowded cargo hold, he breathed deeply, enjoying the mix of familiar smells: speeder fuel, machined metal, lubricants, space rations, and Wookiee sweat—enough to make him homesick for the treetop cities of Kashyyyk. He would have little access to speeders or computers while he studied at the Jedi academy—with the exception, of course, of Em Teedee. But perhaps he could console himself occasionally by climbing the jungle trees and thinking of home.

Maybe he would do that after the Falcon took off, but for now there was work to do.

Lowie asked his uncle what still needed to be done, and began to check the webbing on a pile of cargo that Chewbacca indicated. The straps and webbing were loose, and so was the cloth that covered the pile—so loose, in fact, that as Lowbacca began to work, the covering slid away entirely. His jaw dropped, and he stepped back to admire what he had accidentally uncovered.

The air speeder, dismantled into large components, was still recognizable. It was an older model, a T-23 skyhopper, with controls similar to the X-wing fighter, but with trihedral wings, and a passenger seat and cramped cargo compartment at the rear of the cockpit. The blue-metallic hull had been battered and stained with age, but the engine mounted between the wings looked in serviceable condition.

He glanced up to find his uncle staring at him expectantly. Then, to his great surprise, Chewbacca asked Lowie what he thought of the craft.

The skyhopper was compact and well constructed. It wouldn’t take much to put all the pieces together again. He complimented the vintage speeder’s lines and ventured a guess as to its range and maneuverability. Of course, the onboard computer probably needed a system overhaul and the exterior could use a bit of body work, but those were only minor drawbacks. The dings and scars on the hull only served to add character.

With a satisfied growl, Chewbacca spread his arms wide and shocked Lowie by telling him the T-23 was a going-away gift. The speeder belonged to Lowbacca, if he could assemble it.

Lowbacca stood next to his T-23 in the clearing with Jacen and Jaina and waved good-bye. After a flurry of hugs, exchanged thanks, and last-minute messages, they watched as Han and Chewbacca climbed back aboard the ship.

Now as the Millennium Falcon cleared the treetops and angled into the deep blue sky, the three young Jedi trainees continued waving, each lost in thought for a long moment as they gazed after the departing ship.

At last Jaina heaved a sigh. “Well, Lowie,” she said, rubbing her hands together with a look of gleeful anticipation as she looked at the battered T-23. “Need any help getting this bucket of bolts up and going?”

Realizing that even though Jaina was younger, she probably had more experience tuning speeder engines than he did, he nodded gratefully.

They spent the next few hours preparing the T-23 for its first flight on Yavin 4. Jacen occupied himself by telling jokes that Lowie didn’t understand, or fetching tools for the two enthusiastic mechanics. Jaina smiled as she worked, glad of the rare chance to share what she knew about speeders and engines and T-23s.

When at last they finished and Lowbacca leaned into the cockpit to switch on the engine, the T-23 crackled, sputtered, and roared to life. It lifted off the ground on its lower repulsorlifts, and a bright glow spluttered from the ion afterburners. The three friends let out two cheers and a bellow of triumph.

“Need anyone to take her for a test flight?” Jaina asked hopefully.

Lowie stumbled over a tentative answer. “What Master Lowbacca is trying to say,” said Em Teedee, who had long since finished his rest cycle, “is that, as kind as your offer is, he would vastly prefer to pilot the first flight himself.”

Lowbacca grunted once.

“And?” the little droid replied. “What do you mean, ‘And?’ Oh, I see—the other thing you said. But, sir, you didn’t mean …”

Lowbacca growled emphatically.

“Well, if you insist,” Em Teedee said. “Ahem. Master Lowbacca also says that he would be honored to have you as his passenger, Mistress Jaina. However,” he rushed on, “let me assure you that last statement was made with the utmost reluctance.”

Lowbacca groaned and hit his forehead with the heel of one hairy hand in a Wookiee expression of complete embarrassment.

“Well, it’s certainly the truth,” Em Teedee said defensively. “I’m certain I didn’t get the intonation wrong.”

Jaina, who had at first looked disappointed at Lowbacca’s reluctance, now seemed amused at his chagrin. “I understand, Lowie,” she said. “I’d want to take her out on my own the first time, too. How about giving us a ride tomorrow?”

Relieved that the twins were not upset, Lowbacca loudly agreed, jumped into the cockpit, and strapped himself in. The whine of the engines drowned out Em Teedee’s attempt at translating. Lowie raised a hand in salute, waited until Jacen and Jaina were clear, brought the engines to full power, and took off, heading out toward the vast jungle.

The T-23 maneuvered well, and Lowbacca reveled in the feeling of height and freedom as he streaked away. But still he found himself yearning for one more thing, something that he had been thinking of all day.

The trees. Tall, towering, safe trees.

Scarcely half an hour later, far away from the Jedi academy and the Great Temple, he landed the T-23 on the sturdy treetops, settling the craft in the uppermost branches of the Massassi trees. The tree canopy was not as high as he was used to. The air was thinner, and the jungle smells, though not unpleasant, were different from those of Kashyyyk. Even so, Lowbacca felt more at peace now than he had at any other moment since landing on Yavin 4.

Jacen had said that the huge orange gas giant overhead was best viewed from a Massassi tree—and the human boy was definitely right. Lowie looked around in all directions—at the sky and the trees, at the crumbling ruins of smaller temples visible through breaks in the canopy. He stared at the languid rivers, at the strange vegetation and animals around him. He sighed with relief. He could find a place of contentment and solitude on this moon, a place where he could think of family and home while he studied to be a Jedi.

As the late-afternoon sunlight slanted through the thick branches, a distant glint caught Lowbacca’s eye. He wondered what it could be. It was not the color of any vegetation or temple ruins. The light reflected from a shiny and evenly shaped object stuck partway up a tree. Lowie leaned forward, as if that could help him see more clearly. He wished he had brought a pair of macrobinoculars.

Curiosity and wonder struck a spark of excitement in him. He wanted to get closer, but caution intervened. It was getting dark. And after all, if the object was important, wouldn’t someone have seen it long ago? Perhaps not. He doubted it could be seen from the jungle floor, and it was unlikely that many students came out and climbed to the top of the canopy, this far away from the Great Temple. He was almost certain that no one knew about this discovery.

Heart pounding, Lowie made a mental note of the shiny object’s location. He would come back the very first chance he got—he had to find out what it was.