[Dark Nest] - 1(18)

Mara’s astonishment hit Luke like a Force hammer, and he failed to hear the rest of Zelara’s comment. He turned toward the exit and saw Mara swinging her hand down to cover their son’s eyes.

“Who’s that?” Lyari asked, following his gaze.

“My wife.”

“Wife?” the Ishi Tib repeated in unison. They jumped to their feet, Zelara crying, “You didn’t tell us you were mated!”

“And he’s got a fry, too!” Lyari exclaimed.

The outburst caused the Verpine musicians to fumble over a string of notes, and several annoyed patrons turned to suggest that Luke and the Ishi Tib take their personal lives to a quiet corner.

Mara rolled her eyes, then shook her head and dragged a very reluctant Ben around the corner.

Luke sent her a feeling of reassurance, trying to make sure she knew there was a good explanation. He received an impression of amused doubtfulness in reply, then he heard Saba sissing from across the room and realized he might never live this one down. He shook his head in disgust, then closed his utilities and looked up at the Ishi Tib.

“Will you please sit?”

Zelara put a hand on her hip. “I don’t think so.”

“You just forget about us, you double-spawner.” Lyari shooed him toward the exit. “You’d better go catch your mate and that little fry.”

“As soon as you answer me.” Luke grabbed both Ishi Tib by their wrists and pulled them down. “When did you see my friends? The Wookiee and the Barabel and the others?”

“When they were here,” Zelara answered coolly.

“Which was?” Luke put the Force behind his question, pressuring her to answer.

“I don’t know.” Zelara turned to Lyari. “When was that?”

“Who can remember? They only stayed a day.”

Luke started to pressure Lyari to think back, then realized that someone else was approaching. As with the Falleen who had led Tarnis away, the newcomer appeared to have a double presence in the Force, except that the individual essence felt much more menacing and powerful than had the Falleen’s. Luke turned and, when he saw a blocky shadow with red eyes and white fangs approaching, nearly reached for his lightsaber.

The Defel watched Luke’s hand until it dropped back to his side, then turned to the Ishi Tib. “The nest has secured a barrel of fresh Tibrin salts,” he rasped. “We are preparing an immersion tank now.”

“For us?” Zelara gasped.

“Where?” Lyari demanded.

The Defel offered a shadow-furred arm to each of them. “We’ll escort you.”

“First, answer my question,” Luke said, putting the weight of the Force behind his command.

Lyari started to stop and look back, but the Defel pulled her forward.

“Come, ladies.” His eyes flared red. “The immersion tank is growing cool.”

The same murky presence Luke had felt before rose against him. It was not a Force attack, merely an enormous exertion of will. Had he wanted to, Luke could have found another way to maintain his hold, but that would have meant drawing even more of the mysterious entity’s attention to himself than he already had.

Besides, Saba was on her way over, a furry little Ewok at her side. It was the Ewok she had sat in front of earlier, with a single white stripe running diagonally across a stocky body that was otherwise as black as space. They stopped in front of Luke and stood there sissing and chortling together.

“Go ahead,” Luke said. “Get it out of your system now. Who’s your friend?”

“Tar… Tarfang,” Saba laughed. “He sayz he can help us find our friendz… if you are finished chasing Ishi Tib.”





SIX


Save for the lining of golden wax, the rows of shine-balls stuck to the ceiling, the random tunnel openings, and the lack of even a vague sense of up or down, the interior of the spherical hangar resembled all the spaceports Han Solo had visited on a thousand unknown, out-of-the-way planets scattered across the galaxy. There was the usual collection of battered transports, the usual cargo of stolen goods on open display, the usual dregs-of-their-species smugglers bustling in and out of their vessels, working harder to make dishonest livings than they would have at honest jobs.

Han felt a swell of nostalgia rise inside, and he found himself missing the days when he could debark in such places and know that nobody was going to mess with him and the Wookiee. Of course, now he had a Jedi Knight wife, a pair of Noghri, and a refitted battle droid to back him up, but it just wasn’t the same. Chewbacca had been his co-conspirator as well his best friend, a pain-in-the-neck conscience at times but also a comrade-in-arms who understood the betrayals and disappointments that had turned Han into the wary, bitter smuggler he’d been when Leia came along and rescued him from that aimless life.