[Legacy Of The Force] - 04(99)

She switched the view to a diagram of ship’s areas far away from the luxuries that the passengers enjoyed. “Just prior to the Bothan-Commenorian breaking of the Corellian blockade, she began venturing into the crew portions of the ship.”

Mirax, silent until now, sprang up and moved to stand directly in front of the monitor. “Bridge, technical centers … my father’s quarters. My quarters! She’s been in my room?”

In his best CorSec investigator voice, Corran asked, “Have you noticed anything suggesting that someone has been sampling your cosmetics, trying on your clothes?”

Mirax shot her husband an unamused look. “Other than you? “

“Ow.” Corran raised his hands. “I give up.”

“It’s not funny, Corran.” Mirax moved away from the display. She resumed her seat, clearly rattled.

Jaina caught Leia’s eye. “Mom, you may have saved Booster’s life by coming back when you did. When Alena stopped being able to sense you, she probably thought about getting to you through Dad, through the loose network of smugglers-and Booster’s an obvious target.”

“Well, let’s make sure she doesn’t get another crack at Booster,” Leia said. “Or at any of us. We’re going to hunt her down and eliminate her as a problem-the easy way, if she’ll cooperate, or the hard way if she won’t. And that means Jedi.”

Han gave her an incredulous look. “I’m not going to stay while you…”

She shot him a look suggesting that this wasn’t a matter for debate. “I think you’d better. Alema’s a Jedi who thinks like an assassin. How much training have you done against a combination like that?”

“I don’t need training, I have reflexes,” he blustered.

Wedge touched his arm. “Actually, you and I can do them a lot more good by monitoring everything on the security holocams. We can anticipate traps and ambushes, warn them about confederates Alema has that we don’t know about.”

“Well …” Then Han heard what jag was saying to Jaina: “…need about five minutes to get some equipment from my X-wing.”

“Hey,” Han said. “If I’m not going, he’s not going.”

Jag turned his attention to Han. His reply was calm, reasonable of tone. “I’ve been preparing for this for years. And it’s my mission.”

“Jag’s right, Dad.” Jaina moved up to Han, then leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Please.” Han uttered a little growl, then slumped, defeated.

Alema was thrilled. Only half an hour ago she had detected the Force presence-the one that said Leia was probably a hoard again.

“You were right,” she told Lavint. She donned her black hooded cloak and felt around with her one functioning hand to be sure that all her weapons and tools were readily available.

“I usually am,” Lavint said. She got up from the bed, moved to the compartment’s tiny closet, and selected a dress jacket that was all piratical purple synthsilk and big gold-toned buttons. “I think I’ll get some gambling in while you’re out killing people. Hey, the deal is still the deal, right? You set eyes on either of the Solos, and I’ve met the terms of our contract.”

“Of course,” Alema assured her.

The truth was more complex than that, naturally. If Alema set eyes on Han but failed to kill him, she might choose to kill Lavint to ensure that the captain would not he captured by the Solos. Lavint knew too much about Alema’s movements. But if Han died, what Lavint knew would not be as critical, so she might let the captain live under those circumstances.

Surely Lavint understood that.

ZIOST

“Ben … save girl.”

“Ben … protect girl.”

“I have to get her offworld,” Ben murmured in his sleep. I need a ship.”

“Ship!”

“Ben ship.”

“Learn ship.”

“Ben learn ship.”

“I already know how to pilot a ship,” Ben protested. He struggled against the hold sleep had on him, but something reminded him he mustn’t move right now. If he moved, he would-what? Fall down.

“Learn ship.” The voice was unusually emphatic, and in Ben’s mind a picture appeared-the image of a ball-shaped craft.

It was odd and organic, with a rough red surface texture. In the center of the sphere facing him was a transparent hatch or canopy.

Red spars stretched upward and downward from the craft. They seemed articulated, insectile. But this vehicle was no living thing, not like a Yuuzhan Vong craft; Ben sensed it was machinery, but machinery that was aware of him, waiting for him.