Leia cocked her brow and remained silent, studying him like a worrt eyeing a kreetle.
“Having a whole bedroom suite to ourselves, and a real kitchen where we could cook real dinners?”
“That apartment is gone-along with everything else we might remember about that planet.” Leia made a point of not looking at Han. “And I don’t recall you doing much cooking.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t like the food,” he said. “And we could get another place. With the Reconstruction Authority trying to move the seat of government back-“
“What’s this talk about moving into an apartment?” Leia asked. “I thought you loved living on the Falcon.”
“I do,” Han said. “But there’s more to life than being happy!”
Leia frowned. “Han, you’re starting to sound confused. Have you been seeing color flashes? Feeling dizzy? Having trouble hear-“
“I’m not having a stroke,” Han interrupted. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” Leia returned to her status display. “So am I.”
“And I’m not old,” Han said.
“Did I say you were?”
Han activated his own display and went to work running sensor tests, trying to locate the fault that had prevented the safety system from detecting the coolant problem before it grew critical. An hour later, he had determined that all of the sensors on the coolant line were stuck at the optimum readings. It took another hour to determine that the number one nacelle readings were being repeated on the number two status bar. By itself, either malfunction was dangerous; together, they could prove catastrophic.
“I don’t know where we serviced the hyperdrive last time,” Han said, “but the next time we’re in the neighborhood, remind me to send them a concussion missile.”
“Bad coolant?” Leia asked. Corrosive impurities were the cause of most coolant problems.
“Yeah, and that’s not all,” Han said. “Some short circuit ran a double status feed from the number two nacelle.”
“Really?” Leia grew thoughtful. “I wonder what the chances of making those two mistakes are.”
“Approximately one hundred twelve thousand to one, Princess Leia,” C-3PO said helpfully. “The hangar staff at the Jedi Temple are generally quite proficient.”
“That’s where we got our last coolant change?” Without waiting for a reply, Han turned to Leia. “Something smell bad to you?”
“Very,” she said. “The Temple would know by now if it had been using bad coolant. Someone would have warned us.”
“Yeah,” Han said. “It’s gotta be something else.”
“Sabotage?”
“That’d be my bet,” Han said. “Threepio, find out how Saba’s doing-and have Meewalh and Cakhmaim do another sweep of the ship. Tell them to look for droppings and bug tracks. That may be the only way we know they’re here.”
“They?” C-3PO asked.
“Killiks,” Han said. “Stowaways.”
The droid left to obey. Han turned to find Leia staring out the viewport with a distant expression. It was the same look he’d seen a dozen times, as she reached out in the Force and tried to warn Luke about the assassin bugs Saba had found.
He waited until her attention returned to the cockpit, then asked, “Any luck?”
“Luke’s preoccupied with something about our family. I think he thought I was trying to tell him about Saba.” Leia shook her head. “And I just don’t have a strong enough connection with Mara.”
“What about Jacen?”
“I don’t know,” Leia said. “I can’t tell if he doesn’t believe me or just doesn’t understand.”
“Blast,” Han said. “We could us a little help here. If this is sabotage…”
Han let the sentence trail off, for a faint thread of blue had appeared ahead, stretched horizontally across the
pearly
void
of hyperspace.
“Leia, do you see that?”
“What?”
Han pointed at the thread, which had thickened into a line of mottled colors ranging from white to dark purple. “Colors.”
“Very funny,” Leia said. “I’m sorry I called you old.”
“No, really.” Han jabbed his finger toward the line, which was now a finger-width band darkening toward sapphire. “Look.”
Leia looked, and her jaw dropped. “Should that be there?”
Fangs of blue light began to flash out from both sides of the sapphire stripe.
“No,” Han said.
“Then why hasn’t the proximity alarm dropped us out of hyperspace?”