She stopped abruptly and stared to the left. Han followed her gaze … to see Alema Rar emerging from wall-side shadows, an odd smile on her lips, her lit lightsaber in her hand.
“Mine,” Leia said, and leapt forward.
Han ignored her. He fired at the Twi’lek, but Alema casually caught the bolt with her lightsaber, then began spinning her blade in a defensive pattern as Leia reached her.
“I guess this settles the question of whether you’re dead or not,” Luke said. He caught another crack of the lightwhip On his long blade, darted in close, slashed at Lumiya with the shoto. But with an exertion through the Force, she lifted a severed human head into the path of the blow, and Luke’s attack sent the head spinning through the air. It landed on a table stacked with food.
“Of course,” Lumiya said. “I thought you knew. I am dead. I have been for decades.”
“Then lie down and let us throw dirt on top of you.” With a similar telekinetic exertion, Luke whipped the tablecloth from beneath all the platters and hurled it at Lumiya. It swept upon her from behind, but she cracked her whip backward, cutting the tablecloth in two, then continued the maneuver into a forward stroke. Luke deflected separate lightwhip tendrils with his two blades.
“You really do hate me, don’t you?” Lumiya asked.
“You’ve given me plenty of reasons to. But no. I don’t reciprocate your hate.” Luke leapt over another sweep of tendrils, coming down atop a chair and leaping free of it as Lumiya’s follow-up attack disintegrated it. He landed lightly, poised.
“I don’t hate.” She lowered her whip. “I’m sorry you think that of me. I haven’t hated for … a very long time. Yes, I’ve tried to kill you-but that was professional. Not personal.”
Luke held up his own weapon long enough to deflect a stray blaster bolt, a security agent attack that merely strayed too near him, then lowered the lightsaber, matching Lumiya’s action. “You don’t hate. Somehow I don’t believe that.”
“We belong to rival schools, Luke. That’s all. Shall I prove it?”
“Sure.”
Lumiya deactivated her lightwhip and wrapped it around her waist. She gestured, palms up. “Kill me now, if you want.”
He took a step forward. “I don’t want. But you’re a never-ending threat to me and my family.”
“Then take your shot. But first, for old times’ sake, take my hand.” She extended her right hand, palm still upward, a gesture of peace.
Luke gave her an exasperated look. “I can’t believe you’d stoop to such a childish tactic.”
“No tactic, Luke. Listen to my voice. Listen to my feelings. I’m not offering you poisoned fingers or Force lightning, just a touch.” Her voice became more sad. “If I’d wanted to hurt you tonight, I would have killed your nephew instead of letting him flee.”
“Flee?” Careful to keep Lumiya in his peripheral vision, Luke scanned the chamber.
Most of the actors had disappeared. Mara was dealing with an ever-decreasing number of security agents. Leia was backing Alema up across the main hall, with Han following, taking potshots to provide support to his wife. The giant hologram was gone, and so was Jacen.
He left us.
“And I could have attacked you just now.”
Luke returned his attention to Lumiya. He felt no danger through the Force, none at all. From her there was only peaceful intent.
He extinguished his lightsabers and hung them from his belt, then reached out with his left hand, his flesh hand. His fingers grazed hers, and then her hand closed on his.
And nothing happened.
“Sweetheart?”
“Busy.” Leia swung an almost ceaseless flurry of blows at Alema, but the Twi’lek Jedi continued backing away, fighting a defensive action, never trying to attack. It was unlike her.
“Jacen’s run off.”
Han’s words created a tight knot in Leia’s chest. She had risked her life, and Han his, to save their son, and Jacen had just left them behind.
But she couldn’t dwell on that. Alema was still a dangerous foe. Leia had to win here.
“Sweetheart.”
“Now what?”
“Incoming.”
Leia backflipped away from her enemy, and in midrotation saw that the view of Gilatter VIII was partially blocked-the same ship she’d seen Alema disappear in only days before was headed straight for them.
As she landed, she saw that Alema had switched off her lightsaber and was donning a close-fitting, flexible helmet with a transparent faceplate-an emergency decompression helmet. Alema smiled at her.
Luke felt the danger coming, but it was not coming from Lumiya. He turned away and looked up just in time to see the YV-666 contact the top of the dome.