The Emperor's Plague

27

Raaba’s stomach lurched as she threw the Rising Star’s engines into full reverse and pulled away from where she had been docked against the asteroid. Yes, it looked as if they might escape after all. But something was terribly wrong with her leader. Nolaa Tarkona coughed again, and her pale face streamed with oily perspiration. Her single head-tail writhed and contorted in convulsions of pain. Watching the Twi’lek woman, Raaba hovered just above the rocky surface. Nolaa’s breathing was labored, but her eyes burned with unquenchable fervor.

“Hurry,” she said, “we must get back to the armada. Our time of triumph is at hand. Don’t hesitate now.”

But Raaba could not deny the evidence before her eyes: Nolaa had been exposed to the Emperor’s plagues. One of the diseases had killed the human Bornan Thul, and another had killed Rullak—and now it was apparent that one was also working its poison on Nolaa Tarkona herself. Raaba shook her head to clear it and growled a question: how many plagues had been let loose in the Emperor’s biological weapons chamber? The Twi’lek woman looked surprised.

“Three, four, perhaps a dozen. What does it matter? Many of the canisters were destroyed.” Nolaa reached inside her cloak and pulled out a fistful of vials labeled HUMAN, FAST-ACTING. “Don’t you see?” she said. “We have what we came for. The means to destroy our enemies for all time!”

Raaba felt her chocolate-colored fur stand on end. She sucked in a deep breath, but coughed instead. Only then did Raaba understand what she had done. Yes, she had rescued her leader from the plague chamber—but at what cost? The Twi’lek leader was sick, perhaps dying from one of the plagues she had encountered. Certainly, she’d been exposed to both the human and the Quarren specific organisms. Even if Nolaa’s intention was to kill every human in the galaxy, how could she not recognize that she also endangered every Quarren and every Twi’lek, at the breathe. By going into the plague chamber to rescue her leader, Raaba herself might have been exposed to a virulent plague that could also be fatal to Wookiees.

Perhaps she was doomed as well. With her clawed hands shaking, Nolaa Tarkona attempted to work the copilot’s controls and take the Rising Star on a heading toward the armada. Raaba knew that the time for a decision was now.

Jaina, Jacen, and Tenel Ka finished setting their last explosives in record time and threw themselves into the cockpit of the Rock Dragon. Em Teedee had just transmitted a message from Lowie, Zekk, and Raynar in the Lightning Rod to inform the other young Jedi Knights that they were on their way, escaping from the asteroid. He also passed along the news about the death of Bornan Thul. But they had no time to grieve now. Not in the middle of a battle, with the fate of the plague storehouse at stake. Like a team long accustomed to working together, they flicked switches, sealed airlocks, and programmed courses with deft hands guided by the Force.

“Fifteen seconds,” Tenel Ka stated in a firm voice, referring to the amount of time left on the five detonators they had found and been able to set without going any farther into the weapons complex.

“Fifteen seconds? No sweat,” Jacen muttered.

“Almost got it.” Jaina slapped the repulsorlifts to full.

“Ten, nine…”

Tenel Ka hit the switch to release the Rock Dragon’s airtight seal on the depot docking hatch.

“Eight, seven, six…”

“Hang on. This ride’s going to be anything but smooth,” Jaina shouted.

“Five, four, three…”

The Rock Dragon’s engines whined as the Hapan cruiser began to pull away.

“Let’s just get away from this place,” Jacen said.

“Two … one.”

The Rock Dragon lifted fractionally from the pad on which it had rested, then rose higher.

“Zero.”

Although the Rock Dragon was no longer touching the ground, the asteroid rocked around them. One of the secondary domes exploded in a hail of transparisteel fragments that momentarily clouded the front viewscreen with a crystalline spray. Something struck the Rock Dragon hard.

“Get those shields up,” Jaina barked at her brother, and he scrambled for the controls. None of the companions had had a chance to fasten their crash webbing, and the blow sent them reeling out of their seats.

Struggling with the panels, Jaina yelled, “Help me! We need to get farther away.”

Tenel Ka reached out with her mind for Jaina’s, felt Jacen’s mind join the two of theirs. Together the three minds visualized the asteroid beneath them and placed their combined pressure firmly against it like a springboard and pushed. Suddenly the ship spun clear of the asteroid in open space, halfway to the New Republic fleet.

Jacen said, “Uh-oh,” as a familiar ship swung into their field of vision in their front viewports: the Rising Star. Raaba’s ship.

With the Bornaryn fleet holding the Diversity Alliance ships at bay, Han Solo’s choice was clear.

“Chewie, let’s make sure no one else ever gets hold of the deadly stuff down there.”

A voice crackled over the comm speakers.

“New Republic fleet, this is Zekk in the Lightning Rod. Once the Rock Dragon is clear, feel free to use the asteroid for target practice.”

Han strode to the comm panel.

“We copy, Zekk. You’re cleared to come aboard one of the escort frigates. Red and silver leaders, bring your squadrons after the Falcon. You’re with me. We’re going in.”

Raaba pulled the Rising Star into a backward arc to avoid hitting the Rock Dragon.

“Just shoot them,” Nolaa ordered, “then take me to the fleet!” She subsided into a fit of coughing.

Raaba barked a rebuke at her leader. Didn’t she know how many people had died already this day? Neither of them could be certain how many plagues they’d each been exposed to in that chamber on the asteroid. If the two of them returned to the fleet now, they might risk killing every loyal member of the Diversity Alliance—and how could killing all the humans help them now?

“Such sentiments are for fools,” Nolaa gasped, shuddering as much now with anger as with the chills that racked her body. “In every revolution some must sacrifice themselves to overthrow the tyrants and save the rest.”

Just then a voice came over the comm speaker. It was Jacen.

“Raaba, is that you? If you need our help, we can take you aboard.”

Nolaa Tarkona muted the speakers.

“Yes, it’s perfect!” she said. “Accept their offer. That is how we can begin to spread the plague among the humans—with those Jedi as our first victims.”

A rumble of outrage was building deep within Raaba like the boiling of a geyser. Even after all that Raaba had done, these humans—Lowie’s friends—were worried about her. They were willing to help. But Nolaa Tarkona had been right, in a way: in every revolution there must be sacrifices, and Raaba owed her allegiance to the Diversity Alliance. Her leader was dying, and she could not abandon her.

Nolaa toggled the comm speaker back on. Again Jacen’s voice spoke.

“Hey, Raaba, are you there? Are you all right? Do you need our help?”

Below, New Republic ships bombarded the asteroid with a stream of turbolaser fire and proton torpedoes. Pressurized domes exploded just as Raaba wished she could explode to release the pressure building in her.

“Yes, we are coming, we accept,” Nolaa Tarkona hissed. Shaking her head with a low growl in her throat, Raaba came to a decision. Her long Wookiee fingers flew over the controls of the star skimmer, setting a course and sending them sailing out and away from the asteroid. She increased their speed toward the Diversity Alliance armada. Faster, faster. She allowed herself to transmit only one message, not by voice but by a brief encoded burst that she flashed toward the Rock Dragon before starlines stretched out around them.

Together, Raaba and her leader Nolaa Tarkona plunged into hyperspace. Behind them, unable to resist the concentrated barrage of firepower from the New Republic fleet, the Emperor’s weapons depot erupted in a chain reaction of fire and dust, sparkling as it crumbled into nothingness.

Boba Fett sat in Slave IV, rising up out of the plane of the asteroid belt and watching the continuing battle below with some amusement. Tyko Thul had paid him for his efforts, and Fett was once again between bounties. The passion and devotion some people gave to their causes, their sacrifices, never ceased to amaze him. It seemed a terrible waste of energy, and not profitable. But then, it wasn’t his business to understand. Avoiding all contact with other ships, Fett cruised away, setting a new course. It wouldn’t be long before he had another bounty assignment….