Star Wars_ Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor - Matthew Woodring Stover [111]
“I’m not sure. Why?”
“TIE fighters don’t have antipersonnel systems, and laser cannons can’t be set for stun.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “So we don’t have to worry a lot about unwelcome company. How much farther?”
Luke searched the Force. “Right … about … here.”
The Falcon breached the surface of the now-liquid stone like an Aquarian demonsquid hunting a leaping gnooroop. Rivers of meltmassif drained off the hull, as well as off and around a filthy human who clung fiercely to the only part of the ship that wasn’t sparking with several thousand volts of stun charge: the cockpit window.
Luke … Though inaudible, the words were clear on Han’s lips. He took her, Luke. She’s gone.
CRONAL PAUSED IN THE ARCHWAY OF THE CAVERN OF the Shadow Throne. His Throne still hovered on its platform of meltmassif, all dark and sinister in the bloody glow of the lava-fall behind it. Looking upon the cavern through Kar Vastor’s eyes, he felt a bit melancholy; it truly was a pity that his magnificently staged reality holodrama would never reach the broad audience it deserved.
But such were the vicissitudes of life and art; rather than mourning his spoiled masterpiece, he resolved to focus entirely upon the truly important task of permanently securing a new and healthy body. Not to mention killing everyone who might know, or even suspect, that this young and lovely girl was in fact an old and ugly man.
He shifted the unconscious Skywalker girl from the massive shoulder of his stolen body and set her gently down.
He could not help taking a moment to contemplate her, as she lay upon the stone, lovely and graceful even in unconsciousness. He could not help recalling how he had watched her, through his years in Imperial Intelligence; he’d monitored her anti-Imperial activities for a considerable span prior to her open break and alleged treason at the time of the Alderaan affair. Young Senator Organa, he mused. Princess Leia Skywalker, hiding in plain sight for all those years. Who’d have thought it?
She was a superior choice to her brother in almost every way. After all, she was no Jedi; in her body, no one would expect him to go gallivanting across the galaxy, risking his life to save strangers. No, after the traumatic experience of surviving the Imperial trap that had taken the lives of her brother, her raffish paramour, and so many of her friends and allies, she would reluctantly retire from her life of adventure and devote herself full-time to politics.
She was perfect.
He closed his eyes and let his mind slip partially back into the ancient decrepit body that lay in its life-support chamber. From within that skull, he could send forth his mind into the rock from which the cavern had been shaped, and seize once more the wills of the creatures that used it as their physical forms.
The bridge that had connected the cavern’s ledge to the Throne grew once more, carrying the Skywalker girl and Kar Vastor’s bulk out to the platform of the Shadow Throne before once more shrinking away. The stone of the platform itself rippled and spread and curved upward to entomb the unconscious girl and the immobile man in a seamless rocky shell that hovered far out above the lake of molten lava.
Cronal decided that this should very likely be sufficient to prevent unwelcome interruption.
Now all that remained was to ensure that his new body would not be consumed in the stellar conflagration that was already beginning. A palsied hand groped through the darkness to the chamber’s voice modulator, which would transform his creaky wheeze into Shadowspawn’s liquid basso, then he keyed a preset secure comm channel.
“Yes, my lord? Is it time?”
“It is,” Cronal said simply. “Engage.”
Then again he closed his eyes and returned his consciousness to the Vastor body. He didn’t bother to open that stolen body’s stolen eyes, for within the tomb of stone was only darkness. He had