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He sat up, suddenly alert. His body ached, his mind still buzzed from the interrogation drugs, but he tensed as the door opened. He had no idea what this was, but he felt certain he wouldn’t like it.

Corridor light flooded in, and Qwi Xux stood beside an armed stormtrooper. She looked battered and abused by her own thoughts, which gave Han a smug grin. He hoped she had lost a lot of sleep after learning of the devastating use to which her inventions had been put. She might be able to fool herself, but she couldn’t fool him.

“What, have you come back to discuss a few more moral issues, Doc? Am I supposed to be your conscience?”

Qwi crossed her pale-bluish arms over her chest. “Admiral Daala has given me permission to interrogate you again,” she said coldly, though her body language did not match her tone. She turned to the guard, her pearlescent hair sparkling in the dim corridor. “Would you accompany me inside for the interrogation, Lieutenant? I’m afraid the prisoner might not cooperate.”

“Yes, Dr. Xux,” the guard said, following her into the cell. He slid the door partially closed behind him.

While his back was turned, Qwi withdrew a blaster from the utility pocket on her smock, pointed it at the guard, and fired a stun blast. Rippling arcs of blue fire surrounded him, then faded as he crumpled to the floor.

Han leaped to his feet. “What are you doing!”

Qwi stepped over the fallen stormtrooper. The previous day she had seemed more fragile; the Imperial-issue heavy blaster pistol looked huge in her delicate hand. “Admiral Daala is mobilizing this entire fleet in less than a day. She plans to take the Sun Crusher and her four Star Destroyers to wipe out the New Republic. Your friend Kyp Durron is also scheduled for termination this afternoon.” She raised her feathery eyebrows. “Does that add up to enough of an excuse to escape as soon as we can?”

Han’s mind reeled. At the moment all he could think of was seeing Kyp and Chewbacca again, then getting back to Coruscant so he could be reunited with Leia and the twins. “I don’t have any appointments I couldn’t be persuaded to cancel.”

“Good,” Qwi said. “Any questions?”

Han smirked as he began to pull on his disguise of stormtrooper armor. “No, I’m used to doing this sort of thing.”

Kyp could sense the difference in the air—his first indication that his efforts to focus the Force were actually accomplishing something. He studied every slight change in air currents, in the sluggish odors around the cell, the myriad tiny sounds that echoed through the metal walls.

Stretching his mind through invisible webs of the Force, Kyp could feel a surge from the guards when they walked past his cell. He could sense a twinge each time someone dispensed the food tray through the door. But their attitudes had changed. Over the whole ship he could catch faint ripples of activity, tension, growing anxiety.

Something was about to happen.

Closer at hand, he understood a deeper gut-wrenching truth. The emotions had been so clear in the guard stationed beside his door the previous sleep period. Kyp Durron was not to be part of whatever activity the Star Destroyers were preparing. A young man from the spice mines of Kessel could provide no useful information; they had no reason to keep him alive.

Admiral Daala had already scheduled Kyp’s termination. He had not much longer to live. His lips curled back in an angry snarl. The Empire had been trying to destroy him all his life, and now they were about to succeed.

When he heard voices outside his door, he sensed the barrage of their uneasiness, the curdling plans of violence behind the forefront of their minds. He had no way to defend himself! Despairing, Kyp slid his head against the cool metal wall of the door, trying to pick out a few select words of the conversation.

“—scheduled for execution this afternoon.”

“… know that. We are … take him. Admiral … authorization right here.”

“… irregular. Why … want him?”

“Weapons test … target … new concept