He didn’t know what had happened to Tenel Ka, either. Had she been killed, or had she somehow escaped? Was she even now lost in the jungles by herself, being stalked by predators? He moaned in dismay.
Unable to restrain himself, Lowie rattled off the whole story in loud Wookiee grunts and roars. Everyone around him grew agi tated, unable to decipher a word he was saying. Finally, his frustration got the best of him: Lowie pounded his fists on one of the stone walls and pushed past Tionne and the other Jedi candidates into the cool shadows of the Great Temple.
“Where are you going, Lowbacca?” Tionne called, but he didn’t answer her.
Though Lowie was still tired, the others could not catch up with him. With only the slightest limp, his long, muscular legs carried him down the winding corridors of the ancient stone ruin. Breathless, he reached the room that had been the old command center when the temple served as a Rebel base. Luke Skywalker maintained it to keep contact with the rest of the New Republic.
He knew his uncle Chewbacca was still in the Yavin system, near the orange gas giant where Lando Calrissian had set up his orbiting mining facility for Corusca gems. If only Lowie could get in touch with the Millennium Falcon, speak to his uncle, he could explain everything directly. Chewbacca— along with Jaceh and Jaina’s father, Han Solo—would know just what to do.
With a loud sigh of relief, Lowie sank into a chair in front of a console. The station was filled with the only things in the Jedi academy that seemed familiar to him at this moment: the computers and electronic equipment. He knew exactly how to communicate with them.
Lowbacca worked the controls with speed and determination, tapping his clawed fingers over the appropriate buttons. He had already established an open channel to the Falcon by the time Tionne and the others caught up with him in the Communicatior Center.
Tionne immediately realized what he was doing, and she nodded. “Good idea, Lowbacca!” She waited beside the young Wookiee as a sleepy-sounding Han Solo answer the call.
“Yeah, this is Solo. Who’s calling? Luke? Is this the Jedi academy?” Lowbacca bleated into the microphone pickup, hoping the human pilot would understand him.
Tionne leaned over next to Lowbacca before he could continue and spoke into the voice pickup. “Something has happened here, General Solo. The twins and Tenel have disappeared, and Lowbacca is trying to tell us what happened. But he can’t make us understand him. He’s lost his translator droid.”
With a roar of surprise, Chewbacca came on the line. Excited, Lowie once again explained everything as fast as he could in the Wookiee language. Chewbacca roared back in outrage, and Han broke in.
“Quiet, old buddy, I heard most of that, but a few of the details were sketchy. Something about a crashed TIE fighter and an Imperial soldier taking them hostage?”
Both Wookiees made loud sounds of agreement.
“Okay, sit tight. We’re on our way!” Han said. “We can undock from Lando’s station in just a few seconds. “We were ready to get out of here anyway. The Falcon’ll be there in about two hours—middle of the local morning, I think. Just hold on and get ready to help me fight for the kids!”
Lowie and Chewbacca both bellowed in agreement. Tionne looked at the young Wookiee in amazement. “A TIE fighter! Imperials here? Quick, we must get everyone ready in case they attack.”
With a searing white flicker from its aft sublight engines, the Millennium Falcon cruised through the deep blue atmosphere toward the ancient Massassi structures. Lowie stood in the open landing area in front of the Great Temple, anxious to see his uncle. He waved his shaggy arms for the ship as it approached.
The bright light of morning grew warmer with each passing minute. The two hours it had taken for the Millennium Falcon to leave the Yavin gas giant and approach the jungle moon had seemed the longest of Lowie’s life.
Now he stepped back into the shade of the temple as the Falcon settled to the ground with hissing bursts of its repulsorlift engines. The landing pads settled and stabilized, and then the boarding ramp came down like an opening mouth.
Chewbacca bounded down the ramp, ducking his hairy head to keep from bumping the low ceiling, and headed toward the temple. Lowie ran to meet him halfway, limping slightly. Han Solo charged out and joined them, his blaster already drawn.
“Ready to rescue the kids? Let’s go!” Han said. Tionne and several of the other Jedi candidates hurried out. Han looked around. “Where’s Luke? Isn’t he back yet?”
“Master Skywalker isn’t here,” Tionne said. “We have to defend ourselves.”
“Well take care of it,” Han said. “Lando gave us some extra weapons, and all our laser cannon banks are charged. Lowie, can you show us where they’re being held?”
Lowbacca nodded his shaggy head.
“If there are any more Imperial TIE fighters around,” Han said, “the most important thing you can do is guard the Jedi academy, Tionne. This would be their obvious target. The Empire doesn’t particularly like the New Republic getting another batch of Jedi Knights.”
“We’ll be here to defend the academy, General Solo,” Tionne said. “You find the children.”
“All right, Lowie,” Han said. “Let’s go—no time to waste.”
18
The roar of twin ion engines shattered the deep stillness of the jungle morning as the TIE fighter returned to life. Birds squawked in terror and fled into the high branches. Dust and dry, crumbling leaves scattered in clouds around the Imperial ship.
Encased in the cockpit, Qorl throttled up the power, slowly, gently, as if feeling it grow at his fingertips. Foul brownish exhaust spat out of the clogged vent ports in the rear of the single-fighter craft. The Imperial ship growled, ready for action again after its long retirement.
The TIE pilot emerged from the cockpit, his battered black helmet in hand, the respirator hoses dangling and disconnected from his empty emergency-oxygen supply. Although the glossy blast goggles had been scratched and worn down during the years of his exile, he carried the helmet proudly, like a trophy.
Qorl was ready to report back to duty.
“Propulsion systems check out,” he said. “With the addition of the functional hyper-drive motor you installed, I am now able to cross the galaxy and find the remnants of my Empire. This short-range fighter could not otherwise have taken me there.”
“Good work, Jaina,” Jacen grumbled. She elbowed him in the ribs, and he fell silent.
“What are you going to do with us, Qorl?” Jaina asked the pilot. “Why go away from here? If you’d just come back with us to the Jedi academy, everything would be all right—the war is over.”
“Surrender is betrayal!” Qorl shouted, with a surge of emotion stronger than Jacen had seen in him before. The pilots hand shook as he pointed the ever-present blaster at them. “Your usefulness to me is at an end,” he said, his voice a low threat.
Jacen’s stomach clenched with sudden dread. Jaina had hoped to make the TIE fighter her own vehicle so she could joyride just like Lowie did in his revamped T-23. But the small fighter could carry only one person: the pilot. Qorl could never take them along as prisoners, even if he wanted to. Would the pilot remove his last obstacles—the only witnesses to his exile—with clean Imperial efficiency? Would he just shoot them both and then fly off in search of his home?
Jacen desperately tried to send calming thoughts to soothe Qorl, as he so frequently did with his crystal snakes. But it was no use: his mind encountered the rigid wall of brainwashing that had locked Qorl’s thoughts into unchangeable patterns.