Return to Ord Mantell

5

After the “accident,” Han Solo circled back to collect debris from the space mines and deactivate two unexploded duds. The pieces would serve as evidence of the explosions and help them to find out who had set the trap.

“I guess this ruined your chance at a record-breaking time,” Jacen said as the ship headed back toward Ord Mantell. Jaina and Anakin scrutinized the exploded bits of metal and the unmarked casings, careful not to contaminate the pieces so that they could be analyzed more thoroughly later.

“Hey, we’re alive,” Han said. “That’s more important than any speed record.”

When the Falcon landed back on the rooftop receiving area, Czethros and several other concerned representatives rushed forward to help the Solo family disembark. The crowds of spectators who had witnessed the explosion were in an uproar, and the people sent up a cheer as Han Solo and his children gave a confident wave to show that they were all right.

A nervous-looking race official approached Han, bowing and stammering.

“Oh, I’m most sorry, sir! This is terrible! We have, of course, postponed the Blockade Runners Derby at least until tomorrow. We’ve already sent a crew of freelance inspectors up to comb through the obstacle course in search of any other hidden traps.”

“This was a near-tragedy. We must not risk anything worse happening,” said a second official.

Czethros stood tall, sunlight making his green hair look like a moss-covered boulder. “I doubt the inspectors will find anything,” he said grimly. “My guess is those mines were originally being taken to Anobis, a planet in the next system that has been engaged in a civil war for decades now. They frequently order weapons from black-market dealers on Ord Mantell.” The Derby officials flushed in deeper embarrassment.

“Hey, how could space mines from some civil war land right in the middle of the racecourse?” Jacen asked.

“The war’s still going on, and has been for almost thirty years. Many of Ord Mantell’s smugglers work as gun runners to supply the war effort.” Czethros shrugged. “Those mines could have been part of a dropped shipment, or even a trap set for former space authorities before Ord Mantell became more enlightened and allowed freer trade.”

“Uh-huh,” Han said.

The following day, after the brief and frantic postponement, racing officials attempted to relaunch the Blockade Runners Derby with renewed fanfare. Looking forward to the day’s festivities with subdued eagerness, Jacen, Jaina, Anakin, and their father ascended a tall observation tower above the docking buildings.

Bald, pink-skinned Bith band members followed them, playing stirring and dramatic music to mark the beginning of the Derby. The crowd cheered. The ever-present HoloNet news reporters made repeated references to the Solo family’s miraculous escape from deadly explosives the previous day.

Inside the observation tower, Jacen sat next to his sister and younger brother, while most of the reporters focused their attention on General Solo. The huge windowscreens were transparent to allow the gathered VIPs an unobstructed view across the landing centers and docking bays of the Ord Mantell strip. Once the Blockade Runners Derby began, most of the screens would turn opaque and show images transmitted from the holocam buoys. This would let everyone follow the haphazard progress of the contestants in their assorted souped-up ships as they roared through the tangle of the outer cometary cloud.

Several lavishly dressed racing officials hovered near Han Solo, preoccupying themselves with insignificant details. Han looked somewhat out of his element, uncomfortable in his formal clothes.

“Since I already flew the course once, what exactly do you want me to do here as Grand Marshal?”

“Well, whenever you’re ready,” one of the bureaucrats said, fluttering perspiration-damp hands in the air and indicating a single red button on a panel, “we need you to push this button.”

“That’s it?” Han said.

“It’s a very important task,” the bureaucrat answered, blinking in surprise. “It’s how we start the race.”

Han gave him a lopsided grin. “Well then, I’ll be sure to do my best.”

“No need to worry, sir,” the bureaucrat said. “So far, in the ninetythree-year history of the Derby, only two Grand Marshals have failed to do it correctly.”

Jacen couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly manage to push a single button incorrectly, but then he’d seen some pretty disastrous bungling of simple matters in the course of his adventures.

“All right then, let’s get this over with,” Han said, his finger hovering near the button.

“No, no! Not yet,” the bureaucrat insisted.

“You said, whenever I was ready,” Han reminded him.

“But we have to send the thirty-second warning to the contestants first. And the HoloNet reporters need to get into position.” The bureaucrat frantically twiddled some dials and punched codes into a small yellow touchpad.

In the observation tower several of the broad windowscreens dimmed, now displaying transmitted images of spacecraft up in orbit.

Other contestants remained on landing pads as a second wave in the breakneck race through the cometary obstacle course. All ships would be clocked, and the winner would be determined by the fastest time through.

Han grinned. “Did I ever tell you kids how I made the Kessel run in under—”

“Yes,” Anakin broke in.

“How could we not know, Dad?” Jacen said. “It’s one of the most famous things you’ve ever done.”

Han brushed his fingers down his vest. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. I mean, saving your uncle Luke countless times, infiltrating the Death Star, freeing your mom from an Imperial prison chamber, helping defeat the entire Empire, exploring unknown worlds—” The bureaucrat interrupted him. “Now you may proceed, sir,” he said. “All ships have been informed and are ready to begin.”

Han stepped forward to the red button and extended his finger.

“This button, right?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“You’re sure I’m doing this properly?”

The bureaucrat did not pick up on his sarcasm at all. “You seem to be performing most admirably.”

“Good,” Han said. He pushed the button. The Blockade Runners Derby began.

Ships roared off pell-mell, choosing their own preferred routes to the cometary cloud, some swinging around the planet for a gravitational boost, others heading in a straight-line path, still others taking an incomprehensibly convoluted course.

The holocam buoys captured some of the contestants as they streaked by, an odd assortment of supercharged vessels, modified so that the pilots could withstand excessive acceleration; some ships had heavily reinforced shields to allow them to rip through the course without worrying about ramming into a few comets along the way.

Jaina stared at the viewscreens, her face filled with fascination.

“Look at the range of spacecraft!” she said. “Skimmers, freighter’s, courier vessels… Dad, I don’t even recognize some of those vehicle types.”

“Anybody with a few spare parts and some ingenuity can create their own new vehicle type,” Han said. “Done it myself a few times.”

A new ship flashed across the screen so rapidly that though Jacen thought for just a moment that he recognized the configuration, he decided it must be just his imagination. After all, he’d been daydreaming about Tenel Ka. It was only natural. Even though he was glad about being able to spend some time with his father, he also missed the young warrior girl.

And Lowie, too, of course…

Since the discovery of the space mine cluster on the course, several contestants had dropped out. Han had commented that they must have been too fainthearted in the first place and it was no great loss. Now only the toughest, most seasoned pilots remained in the race.

The ships jockeyed for position, jostling each other and nearly causing a few collisions as they tried to find the best routes that didn’t intersect each other. The vehicles scraped by far closer than their collision-avoidance systems should ever have allowed, but most of these crack pilots had probably shut off their warning systems anyway.

One viewscreen showed a graphical representation of the race. Blips with code numbers traveled through the obstacle course on the grid.

Jacen could watch the progress of the contestants by tracking the colored lights. Some blips moved forward; others fell behind. The holocam buoys, while an ingenious idea to cover the race, nevertheless provided only infrequent snapshots at discrete points—not enough images for anyone to follow the entire spectacle.

A Sullustan Vector-class spaceskimmer went slightly off course, and careened into the comet field. The buoy holocams caught the image as the skimmer struck an icy protrusion, then went into a spin. Enhanced deflector shields protected the pilot from instant death, but the ship was knocked completely awry, and the Sullustan pilot, disoriented, zoomed away in the wrong direction.

A pair of Corellian single-occupant fightercraft swept along opposite sides of a comet and nearly collided with each other at the other end.

They spun out. One ship crashed in the ice field, its pilot ejecting in a lifepod at the last moment and sending out a distress beacon. To their credit, race officials reacted instantly, dispatching medical droids and rescue craft that waited just outside the cometary cloud.

“I wish Lowie were here to see this,” Jaina said, still fascinated by the dazzling images of the great race.

“And Tenel Ka,” Jacen said, narrowing his eyes. “She must be thinking of us. I feel like I’m sensing them somehow—as if they’re closer than we think.”

On the gridmap of all the racing ships, Anakin pointed to one blip that was slowly passing every competing vessel. “This one will win,” he said. “I can tell by the piloting, by the speed. It has already overtaken most of the others that were launched first, and this ship entered the race near the end. It won’t crash, either. I’m sure of it.”

Outside in the streets of Ord Mantell, spectators watched the flat unmarked walls of square buildings that had been turned into transmission screens to carry images from the buoys scattered along the racecourse. Elsewhere in the New Republic—particularly in gambling casinos such as those in Cloud City on Bespin, cantinas on Borgo Prime, and various other legal and illegal meeting places—people placed bets on the Derby’s outcome.

If Jacen had ever decided to gamble, he would certainly have taken his younger brother’s recommendation. Anakin had an uncanny ability to predict things such as this. He watched the blip creep past several other racers as the ship zoomed through the cometary debris.

“Who is that contestant?” Jacen asked. He looked down at the code number, but it meant nothing to him.

The bureaucrat came over, all smiles. “That one qualified at the last minute.” He rubbed his hands together in a nervous gesture. “And it looks as if we were correct to let them enter so late. The pilot seems most skillful.”

The mysterious ship passed two more competitors, swooped around a large comet, then zigzagged through the toughest part of the course.

The craft moved in time with the broken icy space debris, reminding Jacen of an intricate dance. The ship and the comets seemed to be cooperating, moving as one connected system. He had never before seen anyone fly with such sensitivity to the surrounding environment and obstacles.

The ship hurtled around the last comet and then looped back toward Ord Mantell and the finish line. The time displayed on one of the screens was better than any of the other competitors had clocked. No one would be able to beat it.

As the craft zoomed past the last holocam buoy, Jacen and Jaina watched the blur. Jaina recognized it almost immediately, but took a moment to put her thoughts into words. “That… that’s a Hapan passenger cruiser. I recognize the design.”

“It’s Tenel Ka!” Jacen said. “And Lowie. They must have a great pilot.”

“I’ve never seen Lowie fly that fast,” Jaina said.

“Well,” Han said, “they certainly won the race.”

The bureaucrat stood up. “Come, Han Solo. You are the Grand Marshal. You must be on the upper platform to greet our winners as they arrive back from the cometary cloud. The other ships will straggle in, but you must be there to wave and shake their hands… or appendages.”

“Well, somebody’s got to do the job,” Han agreed.

“We’re going along,” Jacen replied. “If that’s Lowie and Tenel Ka in the Rock Dragon, I want to be the first to see their faces.”

The bureaucrat glanced at him after checking the race contestant records. “I’m afraid you may be mistaken. No one by the name of ‘Lowie’ or ‘Tenel Ka’ is registered as the pilot of this vessel.”

“We’ll just see for ourselves,” Jaina said.

A turbolift took them to the top of the observation tower, and then a floating platform shuttled them across the crowded rooftops. The hastily erected grand stadium stood by itself, garlanded with beautiful feathers, flowers, and the colorful flutterplume creatures that Jacen had identified.

Jacen shaded his eyes and looked up at the azure sky until he saw a glint of the ship appearing from high orbit, cutting through the gusty winds. The pilot unerringly found the reception platform and the waiting celebration. Jacen and Jaina waved, recognizing the Hapan passenger cruiser that Jaina herself had flown so often with Lowie at her side as copilot.

“You’re right, kids,” Han Solo said. “That’s the Rock Dragon. No doubt about it.”

When the small ship settled down, dozens of new floaters surrounded the stage and platform, holocams and curiosity seekers. In the distance, cheering crowds of humans and aliens stood on rooftop landing pads, in ship hangars, and on balcony flight decks, waving banners and shouting.

Jacen could already see other contestants coming in to land, now fighting for second or third place.

But when the Rock Dragon’s hatch opened and a figure emerged, Jacen was astonished to find that it was neither Tenel Ka nor Lowie.

“Zekk!” Jaina cried. Behind Zekk, her other two friends stepped out and stood next to their new darkhaired pilot.

Tenel Ka gave only the faintest smile upon seeing Jacen—then again, she never gave more than a faint smile about anything—but Lowie bellowed loudly, raising a ginger-furred fist in victory. He seemed immensely pleased that the Rock Dragon had won the prestigious daredevil race.

Zekk’s emerald eyes flashed, and he gave his friends a warm smile.

“Just following Master Skywalker’s instructions,” he said. “He told me to find something I was already good at, and try to use my Jedi skills to become even better. I’ve always enjoyed piloting, so I thought a hotshot race might just be a good test.”

“And it was indeed quite a challenge for us all,” Em Teedee chirped, sounding exhausted.

Jacen looked around at his friends. The crowd cheered the winners, but all that mattered to Jacen was having the young Jedi Knights back together again.

Together again, the young Jedi Knights learned how to deal with being celebrities. Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin had already spent a lot of time with their father in his duties as Grand Marshal of the Blockade Runners Derby, but now that Zekk, Tenel Ka, and Lowie had actually won the race, publicity seekers and HoloNet reporters pestered them constantly, taking their images, interviewing them, asking them what it was like to receive such an honor.

In the history of the Derby, no crew so young had ever won the challenge. Upon discovering that these were Jedi trainees, some of the losers cried “foul,” claiming that the use of the Force gave an unfair advantage—though the Rock Dragon had not taken advantage of the permitted mechanical modifications, as most of the other contestants had.

Fortunately the controversy died down quickly. The newspeople had other planets in the galaxy to dash off to, and Ord Mantell preferred to keep media attention to a minimum. Large groups of organized smugglers—some of them rivals, some allies—were a powerful political force, and they managed to shoo away the reporters shortly after the Derby ended.

Some of Ord Mantell’s most prestigious “businessmen” (important smugglers, Jaina presumed) had invited Han Solo to a banquet to thank him for his work as Grand Marshal, no doubt in an attempt to curry favor with the husband of the New Republic’s Chief of State. Jaina smiled as she thought of this possibility: her father had nothing to gain by taking bribes, but she doubted the smugglers would realize this. Jaina wondered if Czethros would be there.

Meanwhile, the Solo children spent the afternoon with their friends in the docking bay where the Falcon was berthed. At Han Solo’s request, Zekk had been allowed to dock the Rock Dragon in the same secure V.I.P bay where Jaina had landed the Falcon, so that the Grand Marshal’s ship and the Derby winner were isolated and protected in the same security area.

When the twins told their friends about their adventure during the trial run of the obstacle course, Tenel Ka immediately suspected an assassination attempt. The warrior girl tossed her red-gold braids and squared her shoulders, obviously ready for action. She’d had plenty of experience with political intrigues in the tough environment of the Royal House of Hapes.

Lowie expressed concern and Em Teedee dutifully translated, though Jaina could already make out many of the ginger-furred Wookiee’s words.

“Master Lowbacca suggests that we look at the space mine debris. Perhaps with some attentive analysis, we can determine the mines’ origin.”

“Good idea, Em Teedee,” Jaina said absently, then looked up into Lowie’s golden eyes. “I mean, Lowie.”

The little translating droid detached himself from Lowie’s fiber belt and floated in the air on his microrepulsorjets, bobbing about the docking bay. They went to the storage locker near the Falcon, where Han had insisted on keeping the evidence, believing that only he and his New Republic technicians could be trusted to perform a thorough analysis.

“For some reason,” Jaina said, “Dad isn’t too confident that the people on Ord Mantell will give us an honest answer.”

Jacen said, “They’re probably more interested in keeping their smuggling records secret.”

“Secrets are fine,” Zekk said, “except when one of those secrets holds the key to who tried to kill you.”

On a worktable mounted to the docking bay wall, Jaina spread out the twisted fragments that had been scooped up by the Falcon’s tractor beam. The young Jedi Knights pressed closer. Not much remained after the mines’ detonation and vaporization in space, but Anakin scrutinized the shrapnel carefully and began to sort the pieces into piles he knew went to individual mines. Jaina let her younger brother work, knowing how well he was able to solve puzzles and visualize the way pieces fit together in three dimensions.

In short order, Anakin had several partial mines reassembled. Lowie and Jaina helped him with the wiring, finding parts of serial numbers and determining the initial configuration using the two duds as a reference. The duds were dangerous, though they had been defused. If the mines had not detonated as programmed, Jaina didn’t trust them to behave properly when deactivated either.

Lowie growled as he picked up some of the pieces with his long fingers.

Zekk studied the shrapnel as well. “I think these are contraband war materials,” he said. “So much smuggling goes on through Ord Mantell, this could have come from a black-market weapons merchant.”

Jacen suggested, “Didn’t Czethros say something about a civil war on a nearby planet? Anobis? The smugglers are supplying them with munitions.”

“But were those mines out there just dumped by a gun runner who was about to be caught,” Jaina asked, “or were they intentionally set up to take us out of the picture?”

Jacen sighed. “With all those HoloNet news reporters here covering the race, you’d think some of them would want to do a story about that terrible war everybody’s talking about.”

“That would be too dangerous,” Zekk said with a snort. “They’d rather do a nice, fun story about a space race.” Jaina set down one of the broken space mines and shook her head.

“We’re not going to find out anything else unless we learn who some of the weapons dealers are. But for now … I’m hungry!” She smiled at Zekk, then turned to Tenel Ka. “Don’t suppose you upgraded the food-prep units on the Rock Dragon yet?”

Tenel Ka nodded. “This is a fact. They are now programmed to provide the best Hapan cuisine.”

“Sounds good—I’m starved.” Jacen said, then looked over at the warrior girl. “In fact, let me push the buttons so I can say I made you a fine lunch.”

“That would be most appreciated, friend Jacen.”

Ducking inside the Rock Dragon, Jacen tinkered with the food-prep units until they produced some kind of meal whose name he couldn’t pronounce.

Tenel Ka called it “authentic” and “delicious”; Jaina found it “interesting.”

They laughed and talked, sharing food and friendship. Jaina especially enjoyed having Zekk as a close friend again, rather than an enemy or a guilt-ridden young man. Zekk was rapidly becoming the person she had known for so many years. No, not the same person—better. More mature.

Around a mouthful of food, Jacen said, “Hey, stop me if you’ve heard this one. A bounty hunter, a Jedi Knight, and a Jawa trader walk into a cantina—” A resounding chorus of “We’ve heard that one!” rang through the cabin.

In the middle of a swirling gelatinous dessert that insisted on crawling around the plates by itself, Tenel Ka sat up straight and alert, her eyebrows raised as if something was wrong. Lowie also growled.

“What’s up?” Jacen asked.

“I sense something,” Tenel Ka said. “I would like to investigate.”

She stepped out of the Rock Dragon, moving with feline grace, reaching out with her senses. Jaina watched the warrior girl, admiring the smoothness of her actions. Although she had lost her left arm in a lightsaber battle with Jacen, Tenel Ka had not allowed the handicap to slow her down.

The docking bay was silent, except for the hum of machinery, the ventilation system, and the distant sky traffic overhead through the rooftop doors. The bay walls were smooth gray metal. The Millennium Falcon sat unattended in shadows.

Tenel Ka froze for a moment, then stepped away from the Rock Dragon, flicking her granite-gray gaze from side to side as she walked deeper into the docking bay. Jaina stood beside Lowie at the hatch. The young Wookiee’s fur bristled, and she could feel his uneasiness.

Tenel Ka stood stock still in the middle of the large room, her shoulders rigid, her arm partially bent at her side. She scanned the wall and studied the shadows, the old lubricant stains and smoke smears from hundreds of landings and takeoffs. She took three steps closer to the small workbench where the recovered space mine fragments had been spread out.

Tenel Ka waited, narrowed her eyes, listened, and finally pulled out her rancor-tooth lightsaber. Jaina couldn’t figure out what the warrior girl was doing. The walls remained gray and featureless.

Tension hung thick in the air. Finally, when the warrior girl held up and switched on the glowing turquoise blade… the shadows on the wall began to move!

Jaina gasped. Lowie surged past her and ran to help. Figures on the walls shifted, and Jaina could make out gray-skinned creatures, vaguely humanoid. They moved like spiders with angular arms and legs that allowed them to crawl up the metal walls. The colors on their smooth, clammy skin shifted, patterns of stains on the walls reflected in their body pigmentation. When they held still, the chameleon-like creatures were almost invisible—but now that Tenel Ka had startled them, they were more easily seen. These shadows might be identical in color to the walls, but the play of light exposed them.

Em Teedee cried, “Oh, dear! What are those creatures? I’m certain they’re not at all friendly.”

One of the gray-skinned things scuttled down, snatched up an intact dud space mine, and scrambled back up the wall toward an air vent near the ceiling. Another chameleon-thing grabbed two more fragments.

“They’re stealing the evidence!” Zekk said.

Then all the young Jedi Knights charged toward the docking bay wall to join the fray. Lightsabers ignited: Lowie’s molten-bronze blade that was nearly as wide as Jaina’s arm, her own electric-violet sword, and Jacen’s emerald green. Zekk, who had forsaken his lightsaber upon returning to the Jedi academy, now drew a handy old blaster.

Thinking fast, Anakin raced to the Rock Dragon’s communications console and sounded an alarm, calling for the authorities.

One of the chameleon-skinned creatures dropped from above to land on Tenel Ka’s shoulder, driving her to the ground, its hands around her neck. Jacen tackled the thing and knocked it off his friend. Tenel Ka recovered quickly. Soon she and Jacen stood side by side with their lightsabers, driving the creature back.

Several other creatures ran back to the wall, pressed themselves against it, and vanished in front of Jaina’s eyes. But she knew they were there. Zekk reached up with his blaster, turned the setting to “stun,” and fired at the blank spot on the wall. Circular blue arcs rippled out to illuminate the lumpy form of a chameleon creature. It dropped like an insect sprayed with poison and curled up on the floor.

Jaina could hear the movement of soft gripping hands and feet as more of the creatures moved along. She had no idea how many of them there were, only that the young Jedi Knights were greatly outnumbered.

But they were Jedi, so the odds were fairly even.

One of the unseen creatures struck Jaina from behind. She whirled about, still holding her lightsaber. With a sizzle, the violet blade connected with something solid, and one of the creatures let out a hollow wail. She saw it clearly in the flash of her energy blade, its lips smooth, its mouth toothless. Patterns on its skin shifted like a thunderstorm of colors in its pain.

Zekk fired his blaster again, and a second chameleon creature fell, this time from the ceiling, a great enough height that Jaina could hear the sharp sound of hollow bones cracking from the impact.

Lowie fought in a mass of muscular, ginger-furred arms. Em Teedee cried out, “To your left, Master Lowbacca. I sense a distortion! To your left!” Lowie turned as one of the chameleon creatures leapt.

With his free hand the Wookiee smacked its soft smooth skin and belted the thing aside.

Suddenly, at the peak of the battle, Jaina saw a stranger charge into the docking bay—a young woman in her mid-twenties. She was wiry and moved like a whip. Her hair was dark, but streaked with lines like honey, as if she had woven strands of pale blond hair through her thick mane; a patterned leather band was wrapped around her forehead, holding her hair in place. Her face was narrow, her almond-shaped eyes large and dark and sad.

But what most astonished Jaina was that the young woman carried a blazing lightsaber!

The newcomer uttered a howl of challenge and ran into the fight, slashing from one side to the other, wielding her acid-yellow blade like a club. All the young Jedi Knights paused in shock, as did the chameleon creatures.

The stranger took advantage of the hesitation and attacked. She seemed able to see the camouflaged creatures, or perhaps in the young woman’s wild frenzy, she struck at everything in sight and happened to get lucky several times.

Two of the creatures rippled into visibility, clutching their smoking wounds. They fell with the now-familiar hollow cries of pain before they died.

“Don’t just stand there—keep fighting!” the woman snarled, and the young Jedi Knights resumed the battle.

But with the appearance of the newcomer, the creatures’ fighting resolve broke. They began to flee, a flicker of barely seen shadows.

“Hey, they’re getting the space mines!” Jacen cried. Jaina raced toward the workbench as the surviving creatures grabbed the last components and swarmed up toward the air vent near the ceiling.

Jaina watched the dark shaft swallow the shadowy creatures. The young woman ran ahead with a burst of speed and leapt up at the wall, sweeping with her lightsaber and striking the last chameleon creature in the back. It fell with another wordless wail as the rest of its companions escaped.

Jaina frowned at this last needless slaughter. “You didn’t have to do that. It was running, not attacking us.”

“They all need to be dead,” the young woman said bitterly.

Zekk and Lowie knelt over one of the fallen bodies, looking at the fading colors in the skin tone. Jaina knelt beside the one she had struck, gasping its last breaths.

“Who are you? Who sent you?” she said, but breath only rattled in the creature’s inhuman face, and it died. Then she saw emblazoned in its fading multicolored skin a mark, a solid dark circle with designs around it.

She recognized the symbol. Zekk stood next to her, looked at the tattoo and then at Jaina. “That symbol reminds me of Black Sun.”

Jaina swallowed hard. She knew of the legendary underworld criminal organization run by vile gangsters and evil crime lords such as Prince Xizor in the days of the Rebellion. Many other cruel leaders had also had far-reaching claws that extended into numerous activities, controlling a large portion of the most insidious crimes in the galaxy.

“But Black Sun’s been quiet for years,” she said.

Zekk frowned. “I wonder if they’re starting up again. Or if this is something else.”

Jacen turned to their unlikely helper. The wiry young woman stood there, large eyes wide, pupils dilated, body still trembling. Her arms jittered as if she were a barely contained mass of energy searching for another target to fight. Her comfortable, form-fitting shirt left her arms bare, displaying a tattoo on her right shoulder that looked to Jacen something like a piranha beetle with a lightning bolt on its back, but definitely not Black Sun.

“These creatures don’t know anything. They’re only henchmen, sent here to remove your evidence. Those space mines were a setup to destroy the Millennium Falcon.”

“Yeah, we guessed that too,” Jaina said. “But what I can’t figure is who you are. Are you a Jedi Knight?”

The woman snorted. “Just because I can use a lightsaber doesn’t mean I’m a Jedi. I don’t need all that elite training mumbo jumbo. I can fight just fine on my own.”

“We could see that,” Jacen said, enthralled.

Tenel Ka narrowed her eyes. “Fighting with finesse is a greater challenge than indulging a simple battle frenzy.”

The woman scowled. “Yeah? I seem to remember taking out more targets in this little skirmish than you did.”

At that moment, Han Solo came rushing in, accompanied by several members of the Ord Mantell security forces. He looked around, taking in the carnage and the sight of the young Jedi Knights standing with their lightsabers still blazing. “We came as soon as we got Anakin’s alarm! Are you kids okay?”

Jaina switched off her weapon. “We handled it, Dad,” she said.

“I can see that.” Then he noticed the young stranger, who was now staring at him, her dark eyes ablaze with fury. She stepped forward in a tense, threatening posture, her yellow lightsaber held out in front of her. “Han Solo!” she said, her voice dripping with anger.

Han looked at her, but his face showed no recognition.

“Han Solo,” she repeated. “You killed my father!”