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“He went over the edge,” she realized suddenly. “He must have. Either worked his way under the village with climbing gear or else met a craft hovering down below.”

[That is unlikely,] Ralrra said, starting past her. [But possible. I will go down the liftcarr, to try and discoverr him.]

Chewbacca reached a hand out to stop him, growling a negative. [You arre right,] Ralrra conceded, though clearly reluctantly. [Yourr safety, Leiaorganasolo, is the most important thing at this point. We will take you to safety first, and then make inquiries about this alien.]

To safety. Leia gazed at the house, a shiver running up her back. And wondered if there would ever again be such a thing for her as safety.

C H A P T E R   18

The trilling code, coming from somewhere far behind him, startled Luke up out of his dreamless sleep. “Okay, Artoo, I’m awake,” he said groggily, reaching up to rub at his eyes. His knuckles bumped into the visor of his flight helmet, and the impact did a bit to dissipate the fog still swirling through his mind. He couldn’t remember exactly the circumstances under which he’d gone into hibernation, but he had the distinct feeling that Artoo had brought him out too soon. “Is anything wrong?” he asked, trying to track down exactly what it was the droid was supposed to be doing.

The trilling changed to an anxious-sounding warble. Still fighting to get his eyes properly focused, Luke searched out the computer scope for the translation. To his mild surprise, it was dark. As were all the rest of his instruments; and then it came back to him. He was trapped in deep space, with all the X-wing’s systems shut down except power for Artoo and minimal life support for himself.

And Artoo was supposed to be winding a new subspace radio antenna. Twisting a slightly stiff neck, he turned halfway around to look back at the droid, wondering what the problem was—

And felt his muscles twitch with surprise. There, bearing rapidly down on them, was another ship.

He spun back around, fully awake now, hands jabbing for the bank of power switches and slapping them all on. But it was so much useless reflex. Even with shortcuts, it would still take nearly fifteen minutes to bring the X-wing’s engines from a cold start to any serious possibility of flight, let alone combat. If the intruder was unfriendly …

Using the emergency maneuvering jets, he got the X-wing turning slowly around to face the approaching ship. The scopes and sensors were starting to come back online again, confirming what his eyes had already told him: his visitor was a midsized, slightly dilapidated-looking Corellian bulk freighter. Not the sort of ship the Imperials usually used, and there were certainly no Imperial markings on its hull.

But under the circumstances, it was just as unlikely that it was an innocent freight handler, either. A pirate, perhaps? Luke reached out with the Force, trying to get a sense of the crew …

Artoo warbled, and Luke glanced down at the computer scope. “Yes, I noticed that, too,” Luke told him. “But a normal bulk freighter might be able to pull that kind of deceleration if it was empty. Why don’t you do a quick analysis of the sensor readings, see if you can spot any weapons emplacements.”

The droid beeped an acknowledgment, and Luke gave the other instruments a quick scan. The primary laser cannon capacitors were at half charge now, with the main sublight drive about halfway through its preflight sequence.

And the flashing radio signal indicated that he was being hailed.

Bracing himself, Luke flipped on the receiver. “—need assistance?” a cool female voice said. “Repeating: unidentified starfighter, this is the freighter Wild Karrde. Do you need assistance?”

Wild Karrde, this is New Republic X-wing AA-589,” Luke identified himself. “As a matter of fact, yes, I could use some help.”

“Acknowledged, X-wing,” the other said. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Hyperdrive,” Luke told her, watching the ship closely as it continued its approach. A minute earlier he’d rotated to face the freighter’s approach; the other pilot had responded with a slight sidling drift of her own, with the result that the Wild Karrde was no longer in line with the X-wing’s lasers. Probably just being cautious … but there were other possibilities. “I’ve lost both motivators,” he continued. “Cracked shield cases, probably some other problems, too. I don’t suppose you’d be carrying any spares?”

“Not for a ship that size.” There was a short pause. “I’m instructed to tell you that if you’d care to come aboard, we can offer you passage to our destination system.”

Luke reached out with the Force, trying to measure the sense behind the words. But if there was deceit there, he couldn’t detect it. And even if there was, he had precious little choice. “Sounds good,” he said. “Any chance you could take my ship, too?”

“I doubt you could afford our shipping rates,” the other told him dryly. “I’ll check with the captain, but don’t get your hopes up. We’d have to take it in tow, anyway—our holds are pretty full at the moment.”

Luke felt his lip twitch. A fully loaded bulk freighter couldn’t possibly have managed the deceleration profile Artoo had noted earlier. Either they were lying about that, or else that normal-looking drive system had undergone a complete and massive upgrading.1

Which made the Wild Karrde either a smuggler, a pirate, or a disguised warship. And the New Republic had no disguised warships.

The other pilot was talking again. “If you’ll hold your present position, X-wing, we’ll move up close enough to throw a force cylinder out to you,” she said. “Unless you’d rather suit up and spacewalk across.”

“The cylinder sounds fastest,” Luke said, deciding to try a light verbal probe. “I don’t suppose either of us has any reason to hang around this place. How did you happen to wind up out here, anyway?”

“We can handle a limited amount of baggage,” the other went on, ignoring the question. “I imagine you’ll want to bring your astromech droid along, too.”

So much for the light verbal probe. “Yes, I will,” he told her.

“All right, then, stand by. Incidentally, the captain says the transport fee will be five thousand.”

“Understood,” Luke said, unstrapping his restraints. Opening the side pouches, he pulled out his gloves and helmet seal and folded them into his flight suit’s chest pockets where he’d have quick access to them. A force cylinder was relatively foolproof, but accidents could always happen. Besides which, if the Wild Karrde’s crew was hoping to pick themselves up a free X-wing, shutting the cylinder down halfway through the operation would be the simplest and least messy way to dispose of him.

The crew. Luke paused, straining his senses toward the ship moving steadily toward him. There was something wrong there; something he could feel but couldn’t quite track down.

Artoo warbled anxiously. “No, she didn’t answer the question,” Luke agreed. “But I can’t think of any legitimate reason for them to be out this far. Can you?”

The droid gave a soft, electronic moan. “Agreed.” Luke nodded. “But refusing the offer doesn’t buy us anything at all. We’ll just have to stay alert.”

Reaching into the other side pouch, he pulled out his blaster, checked its power level, and slid it into the holster pocket built into his flight suit. His comlink went into another pocket, though what use it would be aboard the Wild Karrde he couldn’t imagine. The emergency survival pack went around his waist, awkward to fasten in the cramped quarters. And last, he pulled out his lightsaber and fastened it to his belt.

“Okay, X-wing, we’ve got the cylinder2 established,” the voice came. “Whenever you’re ready.”