Star Wars_ Legacy of the Force 04_ Exile - Aaron Allston [48]
Ben spun the wheel that opened the end door. He stood out on the exit ramp and looked down. Below was the exterior wall of the Temple, nearly featureless at this point, sloping slightly downward into the depths of Galactic City.
All he had to do was descend, find transportation to a minor spaceport four hundred kilometers away, present the false documentation that had waited with his new clothes in the locker, and board a run-down excursion transport bound for Almania.
Easy.
KUAT SYSTEM LOVE COMMANDER
“Establish communications,” Lando said.
“I really think,” Leia said, “you’re letting this whole ‘captain’ thing go to your head.”
Lando gave her a long, thoughtful look. “You’re right. Dearest Leia, friend of decades, noble Jedi Knight, please do one more favor for this old, old man before his vital spirit leaves his faltering body—”
She gave him a long-suffering look. “Forget I said anything. Ready to broadcast—”
“No, not that. I meant, come live with me. Tendra would understand, I’m sure of it.”
She sighed. “Yes, Han, you can shoot him.”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” her husband said. “If I shot him now, I’d never learn just how deep into trouble he could talk himself.”
“Ready to broadcast…now,” Leia said, and pressed a switch on the comm board.
“This is Bescat Offdurmin, master of the Looooove Commander,” Lando said. “Approaching the Errant Venture. Do you read, Venture? Over.”
“Errant Venture flight coordination here, Love Commander. We read you.” On Lando’s display, the distant view of the Errant Venture, the galaxy’s sole Star Destroyer to bear a lurid red paint job, faded and was replaced by the face of a young red Twi’lek woman. Narrow orange and yellow piping had been artfully applied to her lekku, and the top portion of her clothing, visible at the bottom of the screen, suggested she was wearing a black evening dress rather than a ship’s uniform.
“We have a reservation and landing authorization. Looooove Commander and the All-Clown Squadron of Fun.”
The woman glanced down, presumably at a data screen. “So you do. You’re cleared for landing…” Her voice trailed off and she looked again, obviously not prepared for what she’d seen. “In the Flag Hangar. I’m sending a guidance beacon on your frequency, now.”
“Thank you.”
The Twi’lek smiled and the screen went dark.
“What’s a flag hangar?” Lando asked.
“The Venture’s an old Imperial Star Destroyer,” Han said, shrugging. “Commissioned as the Virulence.”
“I know that,” Lando said. “Well, except I forgot its original name.”
“Whenever an ISD served as the flagship for a task force or fleet,” Han went on, “the commanding admiral would be aboard, with his own quarters and his own private hangar. Which was called the flag hangar.”
“Ah.” Lando nodded wisely. “So, Han, old buddy, how long has it been since your Academy education has come in useful?”
“Now,” Han said, “I’m going to shoot him.”
CORELLIAN EXCLUSION ZONE ANAKIN SOLO, COMMAND SALON
In the holocomm transmission Luke looked as serene as usual, but even so Jacen could sense that the Grand Master was impatient, distressed.
Mara, beside him, didn’t bother to hide it. Her expression was a mix of worry and anger.
Without preamble Luke said, “Jacen, where’s Ben?”
Jacen gave him a confused look. “I take it from the question that he’s not where he’s supposed to be.”
Luke nodded. “That’s correct. I notice you didn’t answer my question directly.”
Jacen felt a flash of anger—how dare Luke assume he was hiding something? The fact that he was did not enter into things. Luke needed to treat him with more respect. It was a lesson he had to make sure Luke learned. That would be soon, he hoped. “Do you see conversational ploys in every discussion, Luke?” The way he spoke the Grand Master’s familiar name was just