Em Teedee wailed, “Oh, no! I can’t watch. Somebody cover my optical sensors.”
Han spared a second to glance back at the droid, and found Lowbacca cradling Em Teedee in his lap. “Just like having See-Threepio with us again. I think we may have to adjust that programming.”
“Oh, dear,” Em Teedee said.
In the back Lowbacca grumbled a suggestion, which his uncle seconded loudly.
“Good idea,” Han said. “Let’s try the tractor beam first. Maybe—just maybe—we can bring that ship to the ground without destroying it. That way we can get some information. If we say ‘Please,’ he might be a little more cooperative.”
Chewbacca worked the Falcon’s tractor beam generator, casting out the invisible beam like a force-field net to grab the Imperial ship.
The TIE fighter lurched and jerked to one side as the tractor beam snagged a partial hold—but the pilot alternated bursts from his twin ion engines and tore free, spinning upward in a tight corkscrew that made Han whistle with reluctant admiration.
“This guy’s good,” he said. “After him, Chewie! Full speed.”
The TIE fighter, as if seeing it as his one chance for escape, darted back down toward the rough greenery of Massassi trees. It dodged jagged branches that thrust up like blackened witches’ fingers where lightning and forest fires had burned the jungle, dipped down to trace the winding courses of rivers, and streaked over lush canyons—all with the Millennium Falcon following in hot pursuit.
If it were only a matter of speed, the Falcon’s more powerful engines could have outrun the TIE fighter and brought it down, but the small ship’s maneuverability among the dangerous treetops gave the Imperial pilot a definite advantage.
Han Solo, however, had greater determination. “What have you done with my kids?” he yelled into the comm channel.
It was obvious he expected no answer, but to everyone’s surprise, the pilot spoke back in a calculating voice. “They are your children, pilot? They were alive when I left them—but the jungle is a dangerous place. There’s no telling if they will last long enough for you to rescue them.”
Tenel Ka marveled at the brilliant strategy. “It’s a trick,” she said. “He wants you to break off the pursuit.”
“I know,” Han said, glancing back at her. His face was ashen. “But what if it’s true?”
The TIE pilot used Han’s brief hesitation to take his last best chance for escape: arrowing upward and bolting straight toward space. The twin ion engines roared through the thinning atmosphere.
Chewbacca yelped in reaction. Without waiting for Han to give the order, the Wookiee copilot pushed the accelerators to maximum. The Falcon, white heat rippling from its rear sublight engines, zoomed after the TIE fighter.
The acceleration slammed Tenel Ka back against her seat, and she grimaced as the tug of additional gravities stretched her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut. Beside her, Lowbacca grunted with the strain, but Han and Chewie seemed accustomed to putting such stress on their bodies.
The bright, milky-blue sky grew darker, turning a deep purplish color around them as they soared upward. The stars shone out as the Falcon pulled into the night of space. The blurry sphere of the great orange gas giant Yavin filled most of their cockpit windows.
The TIE fighter zigzagged to throw off pursuit, shifting course at random intervals and burning a great deal of energy.
“Maybe we can still wound his ship and pull him in,” Han said, his voice strained.
Chewbacca piloted the Falcon as Han controlled the weapons systems. “I can’t get a target lock,” Han said.
The TIE fighter zoomed above the green jewel of the jungle moon.
Arching around in a tight orbit, the Falcon clung to it, following closely. Han fired repeatedly with his laser cannons—but the scarlet bolts missed.
Han pounded his fist on the control panel. “Hold still for a minute!” he shouted.
Then, as if obliging, the TIE fighter paused in the middle of the weapons systems aim-point grid. The target lock flashed brightly, and Han gave a whoop of excitement.
“Gotcha!” he said, and depressed both sets of firing studs.
But at the last possible instant, the lone TIE fighter shot forward with a blaze of astonishing speed, becoming a molten metal point of light. It dwindled in the sudden distance, screaming forward with instant lightspeed—and plunged into hyperspace with a silent bang.
“It’s not my fault,” Han Solo said, gaping at the vanished target. He let his shaking hands fall away from the firing controls. “A TIE fighter doesn’t have lightspeed engines! It’s a short-range ship.”
Lowbacca grumbled an explanation, and Tenel Ka nodded.
“Jaina did what?” Han said in disbelief. “But that hyperdrive was for her to tinker with, not to install. She’s got a lot of explaining to do with I see her—” He broke off, suddenly realizing where the twins were.
“Forget the TIE fighter. Let’s go get the twins!” he said.
He changed the Falcon’s course and arrowed straight back down to the emerald-green sphere of the jungle moon of Yavin.
22
Back at the tiny jungle clearing where the wreck of the TIE fighter had rested for two decades, Jacen and Jaina decided that their best chance for rescue lay in climbing to the treetops—no matter how difficult it might be. From that height, they could spot any incoming ships and set up some sort of signal.
Before leaving, they scrounged at the crash site and at Qorl’s old encampment for whatever they could possibly find useful, then stuffed it in their packs. Their Jedi training had taught them to be resourceful.
Remembering how they had used the Force to help them scale the Great Temple with Tenel Ka, the twins found a Massassi tree with plenty of densely interwoven branches and hanging vines. They stared upward, then at each other, before beginning the long, sweaty climb. Jacen and Jaina were scratched up and aching and smeared with forest debris by the time they made it to the top—but to their surprise, they felt invigorated by their accomplishment.
Up in the canopy in a thick nest of tangled branches, they tried to light a leafy fire to send a beacon of smoke into the sky. Jacen collected leaves and twigs and piled them onto a curved piece of plasteel left over from their repairs on the TIE fighter.
Jaina had brought Tenel Ka’s flash heater, but the charge was low. When the finger-sized unit sputtered and flashed, sending out a few last sparks, she took the back panel off and used her multitool to tinker with the circuits. By pumping up the power output, she produced one last flash that set the pile of fresh branches on fire.
The lush green leaves burned slowly, and the fire would not gain enough heat to become a bright blaze. But, as they had hoped, a satisfying gray-blue smoke curled upward, a clear signal for anyone who was looking.
Even so, they couldn’t be certain that anyone would know where to look. Unless Lowbacca or Tenel Ka had managed to get back to the academy, no one would have any idea where to begin a search.
“Guess it might be a good idea next time if we let someone know where we’re going and what we’re doing, huh?” Jaina said, staring up at the discouragingly empty blueness.
“Probably,” Jacen agreed, settling himself beside her on the branches. Sweat ran down his face as he rested his chin on his grimy hands. “Want to hear another joke?”
“No,” Jaina answered firmly. She wiped her damp forehead with the sleeve of her now-ragged jumpsuit, and continued scanning the skies. She shifted beside him, feeling the breeze and listening to the whisper of millions of leaves.
Jacen fed more leaves to the fire.