The Emperor's Plague

1

After days of recuperation, Jaina Solo steadied herself on the edge of the bacta tank, dripping. Programmed to be courteous, the Too-Onebee medical droid helped her out. Slippery fluid from the healing tank trickled from Jaina’s hair and bare skin onto the floor, where it gathered in iridescent puddles before flowing into a drain by her feet.

The bacta smelled healthy. Even beneath the brief strips of medical wrap she wore, every square centimeter of her flesh tingled with renewal. Cautious at first, she planted her feet on the floor and tested her strength before letting go of the droid’s green metal arm. Her legs had not supported her full weight for several days now and she wasn’t quite sure they would hold her.

Confident at last, Jaina stretched luxuriously, then looked down at herself. Her skin was pink and new, showing no indication of the burns and injuries she had recently suffered during their escape from the Twi’lek homeworld of Ryloth.

For a moment Jaina wondered if the whole ordeal had merely been a nightmare—the capture of the young Jedi Knights, laboring in the spice mines, the mad flight from Diversity Alliance guards through winding catacombs, the brutal heat of Ryloth’s dayside. But it was all real.

Definitely real.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” a warm voice said close behind her.

Jaina whirled.

“Zekk!”

“In the flesh—more or less, that is,” he said. He held out a sheet of white absorbent cloth and helped Jaina drape it around her shoulders. “You looked like a roasted nerf sausage when I picked you up a few days ago,” he said, snugging the soft material around her. “Now I can hardly tell you were burned.”

Jaina smiled at her friend. His long hair, a shade lighter than black, hung at the nape of his neck neatly tied with a thong. His dark clothing was rumpled, as if he had slept in it; the shadowy smudges beneath his emerald-green eyes attested to a lack of sleep.

“I thought you were part of my dream,” Jaina said. “I kept thinking that I was waking up, and I would see your face, kind of distant and blurry … but always there.”

The centaur girl Lusa wrapped a sheet around the dripping form of Raynar at another bacta tank nearby. She remarked, “Zekk hasn’t left the medical center since all of you went into the tanks.”

Jaina smiled at Zekk. He shrugged, as if embarrassed.

“I don’t get out much these days. Training to be a bounty hunter kind of puts a crimp in your social life. Besides,” he added, “old Peckhum’s been off on a supply run, so I didn’t see much point in going home for a visit.”

Raynar toweled off his spiky blond hair and blinked groggily at Lusa.

Zekk continued, “Anyway, I’m not the only one who’s been haunting the medical center. Lusa was here practically around the chrono. Your parents and Master Skywalker came in every couple of hours. And Threepio kept bustling in to check on us and to bring us meals.” He smiled. “I remember when he wanted to fit me with a fancy new suit for that important state dinner your mother hosted.”

“That was a long time ago,” Jaina answered softly, tugging her own clothes on. “That was the same night I was captured by the Shadow Academy,” he added, then paused a moment as a troubled expression crossed his face. The centaur girl Lusa offered Raynar a clean set of garish colorful robes that displayed the scarlet, purple, orange, and gold colors of the noble Thul family from Alderaan. Of late, Raynar had been wearing more drab and serviceable Jedi clothes, but now he accepted the fresh garments gratefully.

“Lowie and your little brother were here, too,” Lusa said.

“Anakin wasn’t a bother, was he?” Jaina asked.

Zekk looked amused.

“Far from it. I learned a thing or two from watching him. With the Force, he looked inside the controls of each of your bacta tanks, then made some suggestions to Lowie on how to improve their performance.” Zekk’s voice sank to a whisper as he glanced over at Lowbacca, who was helping the warrior girl Tenel Ka out of her bacta tank, while the medical droid assisted Jacen. “Lowie and Anakin spent hours optimizing the diagnostics relays on each of the bacta units. They ran a physiology-specific calibration on all the bacta regulators, while Lusa and I overhauled the nutrient monitors.”

“Are you sure all that was really necessary?” Jaina said, shaking her head. Her bacta-wet hair hung close against her face. “I feel fine.”

He gave a wry grimace.

“I think Lowie feels guilty you all got hurt on Ryloth, since he was the reason you went there in the first place.”

“I’m just glad that we’re all back together and safe,” Jaina said. Then she smiled ruefully. “Guess I owe you another one, huh?”

“Maybe you’ll get a chance to even up the score,” Zekk said. “Our battle with the Diversity Alliance isn’t over yet.”

Tenel Ka dried herself with the absorbent cloth Lowie handed her, then let the damp material drop to the floor. By now she had learned how to do just about everything quickly and efficiently, even with only one arm. She felt energized and alert, and she couldn’t wait to get out of the medical center and do some calisthenics or go for a run across the rooftops of Coruscant. Her thick red-gold hair clung in damp clumps around her bare shoulders, but it would not take her long to tame it into her customary warrior braids again. Turning her cool gray gaze to inspect Jacen, she was relieved to see that the frostbite, cuts, and bruises her friend had sustained on Ryloth’s frozen nightside had left no lasting damage. Jacen’s unruly brown curls were plastered flat to his head by bacta fluid, and his brandy-brown eyes told her that he was rested and strong again. He flashed Tenel Ka a lopsided grin that made him look like his father, Han Solo.

“I’m glad to see that we’re all bacta normal again,” he said. He raised his eyebrows at the pun, as if waiting for her response. Tenel Ka kept her face expressionless, though deep inside she was glad that their ordeal had not changed Jacen’s sense of humor.

“This,” she said, “is a fact.”

Later, Zekk tinkered with the Lightning Rod, readying it for his continuing search for Bornan Thul. Running diagnostics gave him something to do while Raynar and his mother Aryn Dro Thul—who had just arrived on Coruscant with the entire Bornaryn fleet—spent some long-overdue time talking in private. Tenet Ka had gone to see her parents Isolder and Teneniel Djo, newly arrived from Hapes. Her wily grandmother Ta’a Chume, who was also on Coruscant, had been using her spies to uncover further disturbing evidence about Diversity Alliance activities. At the same time, Lowie and his sister Sirra had gone to visit with their uncle Chewbacca, while Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin were enjoying a private family meal with their parents. That gave Zekk a few hours to himself.

He could hardly begrudge the families some time alone together. He knew how difficult it was for General Han Solo and Chief of State Leia Organa Solo to find the time to relax with their Jedi-trainee children. Even so, Zekk thought as he cleaned the life-support recirculation modules, he couldn’t help being a little jealous. He was left out of all those warm family gatherings, since he had no relatives of his own. Zekk sighed. Just then a gruff voice drifted up the Lightning Rod’s boarding ramp from outside.

“I hope you’re taking good care of this fine ship, boy. Not giving you any trouble, is she?”

Zekk dropped the replacement intake filter and bounded toward the entry hatch as a grizzled old spacer trudged up the ramp.

“Peckhum!” Zekk exclaimed. The older man returned Zekk’s greeting with a bear hug, and Zekk’s spirits soared. Now he was truly at home; this was his family.

Raynar still couldn’t believe that his mother had risked coming out of hiding. Now both he and Aryn Dro Thul stood on the highest balcony of the Bornaryn headquarters building, overlooking a broad plaza that bustled with people.

“This view was one of the reasons Bornan and I chose this building for our headquarters.”

His mother wore her midnight-blue gown shot with silver and belted with a sash in the colors of the House of Thul. Her fingers toyed with the sash and her lips curved in a faint smile.

“Somehow I feel closer to your father just standing here.”

At the heart of the plaza, a fountain with hundreds of tiers burbled, trickled, gushed, and spouted. The spectacular display reminded him of the Dro family’s Ceremony of the Waters, a tradition from their Alderaanian heritage. For the millionth time since his father’s disappearance, Raynar found himself wishing that his whole family could be together again, and that he had remembered to enjoy those times more in the past….

“He’s in danger, you know,” Raynar said.

Without looking away from the fountain, Aryn nodded. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”

Raynar took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “It all started with the Twi’lek leader, Nolaa Tarkona. Dad was negotiating some trade agreements with her when he disappeared.”

Her gaze still fixed on the fountain, Aryn nodded.

“Bornan was planning to meet with her at the Shumavar trade conference … but he never arrived.”

“Dad decided to disappear, but he had a good reason. Nolaa Tarkona’s interplanetary political movement, the Diversity Alliance, was supposed to bring nonhuman species together to right the wrongs of the past. Unfortunately, Nolaa decided that the only way to right those wrongs was to destroy all humans.”

“But why should she have singled out Bornan?” Aryn asked.

“An alien scavenger named Fonterrat discovered an Imperial storehouse that held a plague that could kill humans specifically. Fonterrat offered to sell the information to Nolaa Tarkona, but he refused to deal directly with her. Instead he insisted that she send a neutral party to meet with him on an ancient planet called Kuar.”

“And so Nolaa Tarkona sent Bornan?” Aryn said.

“Right. As far as we know, Dad traded a time-locked case full of credits for a navicomputer module that had the location of the plague storehouse in its memory. Just a simple exchange. Dad was supposed to deliver the navicomputer to Nolaa Tarkona at the Shumavar conference. He’d probably never have known what he was carrying—but at the last minute I guess Fonterrat confessed it to him.”

Still looking down at the bustling plaza far below, Aryn Dro Thul shook her head.

“That scavenger could have been exaggerating about the plague.”

“He wasn’t,” Raynar said. “Early in his negotiations with Nolaa Tarkona, Fonterrat gave her at least one sample. Nolaa used that sample to booby-trap his payment. At Fonterrat’s next stop, an all-human colony on Gammalin, the plague killed everyone. The colonists locked him up before the plague killed them, and Fonterrat died in a tiny jail, since no one was left alive to take care of him. If Nolaa Tarkona ever gets her hands on that plague, the entire human race will be destroyed. So, ever since he got the navicomputer from Fonterrat, Dad has been on the run, trying to keep it from her.”

Aryn’s shoulders drooped. “That sounds like your father—but why didn’t he simply destroy the module, or bring the information here to Coruscant?”

“It’s not that easy,” Raynar said. “We know that some members of the Diversity Alliance have infiltrated the New Republic government. A Bothan soldier wearing a New Republic uniform even tried to kill Lusa on Yavin 4. Maybe Dad suspected the information wouldn’t be safe if he delivered it here.”

“Yes, your father has always had good people instincts,” Aryn agreed.

“Then he probably also guessed that Nolaa Tarkona would stop at nothing to get that plague—with or without the navicomputer. When Jacen, Jaina, Tenel Ka, and I were prisoners on Ryloth, we learned that she wants to release that plague and infect every last human in the galaxy.”

“I wish I were there to help your father,” Aryn said.

“I wish I could help him too,” Raynar said, taking his mother’s hand a bit awkwardly. It felt strange at first, but he had come to realize in the past months how easy it was to lose the things and the people that you cared about. “I’m glad you came out of hiding, Mom,” he said.

Aryn Dro Thul stood tall, straightened her shoulders, and looked into Raynar’s eyes. “Sometimes we simply have to face our worst fears,” she said. “You’ve shown so much courage since your father disappeared. I’m very proud of you, you know.”

Raynar sighed. “I guess facing our fears is a part of growing up.”

His mother raised her eyebrows at him. “Maybe. Even so, it never gets any easier.”

With a contented smile, Leia Organa Solo gazed slowly around the meal table in the Solo family’s quarters of the Imperial Palace. It was still hard to believe that her husband and three children were here at home, all at the same time. She allowed herself to enjoy the moment, though it had taken a galactic crisis to bring them together.

“More nerf sausage, Master Jacen?” See-Threepio offered. “It is a particular Corellian favorite.”

“Maybe just one,” Jacen answered. Leia noted that Jacen was taller than she had remembered. It amazed her to see how the twins and Anakin changed each time they returned from their studies at the Jedi academy. After serving Jacen, the gold protocol droid turned to Jaina. She held her hands over her plate, as if to protect it from Threepio’s enthusiastic service.

“Couldn’t eat another bite,” Jaina protested.

“Over here, Goldenrod,” Han said, holding out his plate for more. “These are just like the ones Dewlanna used to make for me when I was a kid.” Anakin smiled sympathetically at his brother and sister.

“I have a feeling you’re going to need all your strength when you speak to the New Republic Senate tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” the twins asked in unison.

Leia nodded.

“I’ve scheduled a special meeting of the New Republic Senate. I’d like you and your friends there to present your findings. I think the whole galaxy needs to know what the Diversity Alliance has been planning.”