[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(28)

Jaina had never been in Mandalorian space before. Mom had, in her Rebel youth; she said the Mandalorians lived in tree-houses, and their leader, a blond man called Shysa, had been very charming. Jaina waited, cultivating a patience she never knew she had.

Her Force senses told her something was approaching, but she sensed no danger. It felt oddly benign, in fact; if she hadn’t known better, she would have said amused. Yes, there was definitely something approaching her. Nothing showed up on the X-wing’s monitors other than a medium-sized ship with a heavy drive, something like a spaceport tug or some utility vessel. Perhaps it was going to escort her in.

It was very close now. Jaina still couldn’t see anything, but it was approaching from her port side. It was only when she turned her head as far as she could, unable to sit still any longer, that she saw a black void where stars should have been, and picked out a large, unlit shape heading straight at her. Had it detected her?

It was on a collision course. Jaina got ready to run.

Then the lights came on.

The brilliant blue-white light seared her eyes for a split second, but when she blinked away the afterimage she was looking at a grim slab of a vessel that was a mass of cannon turrets, turntables, hatches, and angles. There was no other way to describe it: it was a flying tank.

“Keldabe welcomes careful aruetiise if their credit’s good, “said ATC over the comlink. “Nine Amber, what’s the purpose of your visit?”

Here we go. Just do it. “I’ve come to see Boba Fett.”

“Amber Nine, identify yourself.”

“Keldabe, I’m not GA anymore.” I sound like a criminal. They might have been detaining her. It was hard to tell. “I’ve come alone.”

“Follow your escort.”

She was still in one piece; that was something, although she would have to work out what aruetiise meant. The tank rotated ninety degrees in the horizontal and pulled away in front of her, dipping its starboard side like a wing to indicate to her to follow. She’d expected to be met and checked over by a Bes’uliik, and was almost disappointed not to encounter the new Mandalorian fighter. They said it was faster than an X-wing. Corellia and other planetary forces were lining up to buy them.

Aunt Mara would have had fun with one of those.

The memory ambushed Jaina several times a day. She thought it was better than forgetting, however much pain that would have saved her. She had learned that when Anakin died. Before she reached the upper atmosphere of Mandalore, the ungainly-looking tank was joined by a smooth delta-shaped fighter, and Jaina had her wish: it was the Bes’uliik she’d seen on the holonews channels. The vessel maneuvered between her and the tank, so close that she could see the helmeted pilot turn to give her a hand signal familiar to any pilot, follow me.

The tank peeled off and vanished, showing remarkably little heat signature on Jaina’s sensors. “What was that?” she asked.

“You want to place an advance order?” said a male voice. It was the Bes’uliik pilot. “MandalMotors calls it the Tra’kad-the StarSaber.”

It was an elegant name for an inelegant vessel, and Jaina Put it on her list of things to worry about much later. Land-iig on Mandalore needed every scrap of her attention. She was suddenly in busy airspace over heavily wooded country scattered with small villages. Keldabe loomed in her viewscreen, a massive, disorganized fortress set on a granite pedestal ringed by a moat-like river. She could identify the MandalMotors tower from the logo painted on it, that grim animal skull with a flare emerging from one empty eye socket.

And her passive scanners were picking up a formidable array of ground-to-air defenses. Keldabe was ready for all comers.

She brought the X-wing down in a smooth descent, tailed by the Bes’uliik. The apron area was packed with vessels from battered Gladiators and smart new KDY armed transports to-and this rattled her composure a little-old X-wings in garish paint schemes. Most vessels were disgorging passengers, all of them wearing that distinctive full-body armor in a riot of colors; red, deep yel-low, and forest green seemed to be very popular.

The X-wing’s undercarriage shivered as it landed. Jaina was past the point of no return.

“Holiday?” she asked over the comlink, trying to be casual.

“Return of the expatriates, “said the Bes’uliik pilot. “Millions of Mando’ade live on other worlds. The Mand’alor asked for volunteers to rebuild the planet. So they came. They’re getting their land allocations.”

“I had no idea you were so scattered.”

“That’s why you can’t get rid of us. It’s like trying to hammer mercury-it just breaks up and comes back together again.”