The Unifying Force (69 page)

Dressed in a black synfleece jacket, stylish trousers, a rakish cap, and fingerless gloves, Lando meandered with design among the ships, spotting Han at last, seated at a table with Talon, Booster, and Crev Bombassa, in an open-fronted shed built of Sekotan lamina. The three men were as bundled up as Lando was, and their amiable laughter rode out on shortlived breath clouds.

“Where is everybody?” Lando asked when he joined them. “This place is as quiet as a convention of Defels.”

“Big meeting in the boras,” Han said offhandedly.

Lando grinned and prized a bottle of expensive Corellian brandy from his coat pocket. “Perfect time for us to warm our bones. Besides, there’s just enough to go around.”

Han rubbed his bare hands together in anticipation. “Wasn’t I just saying that cantinas are in very short supply around here?”

Crev glanced around in wariness. “Maybe you should keep your voice low. You know, in case … someone’s listening?”

Booster tugged at his beard. “It is a little spooky, isn’t it?”

Talon gazed at the canyon and the distant tree line. “Now that you mention it.”

Lando put his hands on his hips and laughed. “I doubt that Sekot would begrudge us a toast or two.” From the jacket’s
other pouch pocket, he extracted five tumblers. Lining them up on the table, he began to fill them with the aromatic amber liquid. “So what do you think Luke and the rest are talking about?”

“Same thing that’s on everyone’s mind,” Crev said with theatrical seriousness. “Han Solo.”

Han laughed with them, then raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

The glass was almost to his mouth when a male voice said, “Got enough for two party crashers?”

The five of them turned to see Wedge and Tycho hurrying toward them, sporting flight jackets and brimmed caps.

“With their customary sense of flawless timing,” Han muttered.

Reluctantly, Lando pulled two more tumblers from his pocket, filled them, and passed them down the table. “Anyone else is going to have to provide his own glass.”

“And brandy,” Crev said.

Talon shook his head and sighed. “I’ve yet to meet a military man who’s actually willing to pay for a drink.”

Tycho snorted. “I’ve never met one who
has
to pay.”

Wedge lifted his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

They all took long sips, smacked their lips, and set the tumblers down.

“Anyway,” Tycho continued, “that’s ex-military, as of tomorrow.”

Han raised an eyebrow. “Skulking back into retirement, huh?”

Tycho shrugged. “It’s either that, or Winter leaves me.”

“She must have been talking with Iella,” Wedge said. “It’s a conspiracy.”

Han raised his glass again. “To last flings.”

They sipped, then fell silent for a moment. Wedge fingered the tumbler through a circle. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for the simple life again. The Alliance will just have to make do with guys like Darklighter, Page, and Cracken.”

“Pity the Alliance,” Tycho said.

Han regarded the two of them and laughed. “The familiar strains of midlife.”

Tycho jerked his thumb at Han, without looking at him. “This from a guy who refuses to go quietly into the void.”

“Not true,” Han said. “It’s the
Falcon
that keeps leading me into trouble.”

Booster nodded soberly. “I’m beginning to think the same of
Errant Venture.”

“Next time maybe you should choose a different shade of red,” Talon said.

They laughed and downed what remained in the glasses. Lando was quick to refill them, emptying the bottle.

“So what’s next for you guys?” Tycho asked the four members of the Smugglers’ Alliance.

“We’re waiting for the dust to settle,” Talon said. “And I don’t mean the yorik coral dust. Everything from here to Helska and back has been given a good shaking. A lot of groups that were at the top are suddenly at the bottom, and the other way around.”

“Who, for instance?” Tycho said.

Talon considered it briefly. “Well, at the top you’ve got the Bothans, chiefly because of Fey’lya’s brave last stand and Kre’fey’s heroic victory. But vying for second place are the Sullustans, Hapans, the former Imperials, the Mon Calamari.”

“Who do you figure has fallen?” Wedge asked.

“Everyone Rimward of Wayland. Plus the Ithorians, Bimms, Kuati, Corellians. But more than anyone, the Hutts.”

Lando nodded. “A lot of folk were forced to do without spice during the war, and have lost their appetite for it. In fact, just about anyone who had regular dealings with the Hutts has lost credibility—the Rodians—except for the Jungle Clans—Whiphids, Klatoonians, Weequays, Vodrans, Io-trans, Nikto … Didn’t help that a lot of them supported the Peace Brigade.”

“They’re the ones who should be brought to trial for war crimes,” Booster said.

“They will be,” Wedge said. “Cal Omas has left the decision to individual worlds and systems.”

“Who else is on the way up?” Tycho asked.

“Corporate Sector and Tion Hegemony,” Talon said, without having to think about it. “Just about every system Rimward of Eriadu on the Rimma, and Varonat on the Trade Spine.”

Lando looked at Han. “I’ll tell you who’s gained the most—your friends, the Ryn.”

Han sniffed. “Figures Droma would come out of this smelling like a flower.” He paused, then added: “Of course, knowing Droma, he’s somewhere saying the same about me.”

“Yeah,” Tycho said. “We didn’t think you could become a bigger hero than you already were, old man.”

Wedge smiled. “Someday they’ll raise a statue—”

Han held up his hands. “I’ve already heard that one from Leia. Besides, every world, every system’s contributed a hero to this war.” He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I haven’t told this to anyone, but I swear on the
Falcon
that I saw
Fett
at Caluula, and he did as much as anyone to try to save that station from the Vong.”

Lando was staring at him in disbelief. “As in Boba?”

“Of course, Boba—running with a bunch of other guys in Mandalorian armor and jet packs. He even managed to come up with a new Firespray.”

Talon touched his mustache. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but I heard that that same bunch showed up to help liberate Ord Mantell.”

“And Tholatin,” Crev said.

“And Gyndine,” Booster added.

Lando shook his head, as if to clear it. “Hey, if Pellaeon can be considered an ally, why not a former bounty hunter?”

Han glanced from Lando to Talon. “You’re the people that deserve statues. But I suppose that’ll have to wait until Wolam Tser or someone does a holodocumentary about the notorious Smugglers’ Alliance.”

“That would be Ex-Smugglers’ Alliance,” Talon said.

Han rolled his eyes.

“It’s true, Han. We’ve mended our ways.”

“Seen the light,” Booster said.

“Come around,” Crev added.

“Reformed,” Lando said.

Tycho looked around the table. “Anyone want to add another cliché?”

“How about ‘gotten too old for this’?” Han said.

Wedge nodded. “That’ll do.”

Han glanced at Lando and Talon again. “What, Tendra and Shada are making honest men of you?”

Talon shook his head firmly. “Shada and I are business partners. That’s it.”

Lando grinned at Han. “Hey, it was your wife who wrote the book on the subject.”

Everyone laughed, then raised their tumblers.

“To the war’s true unsung heroes,” Han said, “the spouses.” When he had set down his glass, he turned back to Lando. “Seriously, Lando. What’s the game plan?”

“Let me put it this way. With the need for so much rebuilding—of worlds, governments, trading routes—and new markets opening in the Imperial Remnant, Chiss space, even parts of the Unknown Regions, there’ll be no shortage of opportunities for people motivated more by philanthropy than profit.”

“To our noble selves,” Tycho said, toasting with the final sip. “Few of us left.”

Finishing the drinks, the seven of them slammed the tumblers on the table.

“More by philanthropy than profit,” Han repeated. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his crude chair away from the table and gazed about him. “I swear, this crazy place is having an effect on everyone.”

“I already know that Tahiri and Tekli want to return to the Unknown Regions with Zonama Sekot,” Jaina told Jacen as they were returning from the meeting. Most of the Jedi were proceeding directly to the canyon, but the twins were taking the long way back to their temporary shelter on the cliffside. “Tekli believes she can learn a lot from the Yuuzhan Vong shapers—assuming they’re willing to teach her. And Tahiri, well, I think she just wants to explore more of the Yuuzhan Vong side of her nature—of Riina.”

“I know someone else who plans to remain here,” Jacen said.

“Danni,” Jaina said.

Jacen nodded. “Before the war, all that interested her was the search for an extragalactic species. But the one she practically
discovered single-handedly she knows only as an enemy. She told me she has as much to unlearn, as learn.”

“Is that going to be hard for you—saying good-bye to her?”

“I’m happy for her.” He glanced at his sister. “Anyway, I’ll always know where to find her.”

“I didn’t think of that.” Jaina became thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Corran, Mirax, and the kids are going to Corellia for a while.”

“You think Mom and Dad will go there?”

Jaina shook her head in uncertainty. “I’ve no idea what those two have up their sleeves. But what about you, Jacen?”

“I know what I don’t want to do—I don’t want to be part of an order or a select group. I don’t want to be looked to as the guiding light of the new fealty, and I don’t want to be surrounded by students who’ll ask more of me that I can explain. Most of all, I don’t want to be an object of fascination or admiration, because that’ll only distract me from what I really need to learn. I don’t have dreams of being a lightsaber master or an ace starfighter pilot, and I’m not on a campaign to change anyone or anything, except myself, maybe, just to clear away some of the confusion that’s built up.”

“You sound like Sekot,” Jaina said. She gestured broadly to the giant trees. “You wouldn’t want to stay here? Among all this?”

“I can’t—because every part of me is desperate to stay, and I’m worried that I’d never leave.”

“So you’re going to wander the galaxy or something?”

“If that’s where the Force leads me. But right now I think I’d like to spend time among some of the other Force-users—the Jensaari, the Theran Listeners, the Sunesi … maybe even try to find out where the Fallanassi disappeared to.”

Jacen laughed, clearly at himself.

“Anakin’s probably ridiculing me for even thinking of going on a quest for answers. He’d probably say that I’d do better just to plant myself under one of these boras and wait for the answers to find me, instead of roving around trying to find them.” His voice took on a note of sadness. “I wish I
could see him, Jaina. But I can perceive him. I carry him around with me, the way some people do a hololocket. I regret so many of the arguments we had, and so many of the wrongheaded decisions I made. But they were the best I could manage at the time. It’d be easy to say I wished we’d never gone to Myrkr. But if we hadn’t gone, then none of us might have survived the voxyn. There would have been no one to find Zonama Sekot, no chance for the Alliance or the Yuuzhan Vong. It would have been a battle to the death, with no winners.”

Jaina kept silent until she was certain he was through. “Anakin was such a special person that even now it doesn’t seem fair that he should have been the one to die. I know that fairness has nothing to do with it, but I’ll never get over his death—just like the way he might never have been able to get over Chewie’s death. I never had any real doubts that I’d survive the war, but my worst fear was that I’d survive without you, Mom, and Dad. I didn’t want to live after Myrkr, Jacen. If you had died there, I don’t think I could have gone on. I wouldn’t have just become ‘the Sword of the Jedi,’ but the sword the Jedi would have been sorry they’d forged. I would have made the Kyp who destroyed Carida look like a simple scoundrel.”

Jacen whistled in relief. “What about Kyp? Now that we
have
survived.”

“I don’t know, I really don’t. He’s been something of a mentor, in the same way Mara has.” She brought her right forefinger and thumb close together. “I thought for about this long that I could actually feel something for him, but falling in love with your mentor isn’t a sane thing to do, because you’re not really seeing the person. You’re seeing the statue on the pedestal. You’re worshiping the idea.”

“The way Jag does with you?”

“Jag doesn’t worship me.”

“Now that he’s gotten to know you, you mean.”

Jaina smacked her brother on the arm. “Even though you’re right. The thing is, I don’t want to be at the center of anything, either. I know that Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara would like to see me mentor some of the young students—maybe even Ben—but Kam and Tionne have bonded with
the kids much better than I ever could. Anyway, I don’t want to be too far from the action.” She looked at Jacen. “I have too much of Mom and Dad in me to give up fighting for peace and justice.”

“Especially now that you’ve gotten so good at it.”

Jaina snorted ruefully. “That’s the real problem, right? When it starts to come easy?”

“You just have to avoid the killing part of it.”

“Unfortunately, that’s part of the starfighter pilot job description.”

“So find some other way to satisfy your need for speed and action. I hear Podracing’s making a comeback.”

Jaina laughed heartily. “It’s in our blood, anyway.”

“More than the military is. I mean, Dad just about got drummed out, Mom was a Rebel, and our paternal grandparents were … What?”

Jaina shook her head. “I don’t know. But some people say that important traits tend to skip a generation.”

Streaking a cloudless azure sky, a dozen ships of motley design and capability soared high above Zonama Sekot and gradually disappeared from sight.

“Everyone’s leaving, Artoo,” C-3PO said in a wistful tone. “They’re returning to their homeworlds or going in search of missing friends. Masters Lowbacca, Sebatyne, Katarn, Zekk, and Azur-Jamin; Mistresses Rar, Ramis, and Kirana Ti; the children … I already miss them.”