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Kyp looked up, feeling no fear. He had been imprisoned and sentenced to death by the Empire. He had lived in the pitch-dark spice mines of Kessel for over a decade. He had fought against a predatory energy spider. And he had flown through a black-hole cluster. As he looked at the imposing liquid-black outline, though, he felt awe and curiosity.

“Who are you?” Kyp asked.

“I could be your teacher,” the dark shape said. “I could show you many things that even your Master Skywalker does not comprehend.”

Kyp felt a thrill rush through him. “What things?”

“I could show you techniques that were lost thousands of years ago, secret rites and hidden doorways of power that no weak Jedi Master like Skywalker dares to touch. But you are strong, Kyp Durron. Do you dare to learn?”

Kyp felt reckless, but he trusted his instincts. They had served him well in the past. “I’m not afraid to learn,” he said, “but you have to tell me your name. I won’t learn from a man who is afraid to identify himself.”

Kyp felt foolish even as he said it. The shadowy form seemed to ripple as if with silent laughter. His voice boomed out again, full of pride.

“I was the greatest Dark Lord of the Sith. I am Exar Kun.”

19

Han Solo dashed into his and Leia’s empty sleeping chambers. “Lights!” he shouted so loudly that the voice receptors didn’t understand his words. Han forced himself to articulate with brutal clarity through clenched teeth, “Lights,” until the illumination came on in the room.

He glanced from side to side, trying to think of everything he would need to bring. After unsealing the coded security chamber atop one of their closets, he snatched a fully charged personal blaster, then grabbed an extra power pack. He pulled out a clean set of clothes, felt a startled pang as he saw Leia’s garments hanging untouched in the storage unit.

“Chewie!” he bellowed. “In here.”

For some reason the voice-response lights went off again. In disgust he snapped, “Lights on!” for the third time.

See-Threepio strutted into the room with two bawling children in tow. “Sir, must you be so rushed? You’re upsetting the children. Will you please take a moment to explain what’s going on?”

Chewbacca roared from the outer room, and Han could hear him knocking furniture aside as he ran to the bedroom. The Wookiee stood in the doorway, his tan fur ruffled. He opened his wide pink mouth, showing his fangs, and roared again so loudly that it startled the children.

The bedroom lights went off for a second time.

Han saw that Chewbacca carried his deadly bowcaster and a pack of concentrated emergency rations, ready to go. Fumbling in the dimness, Han opened up another small compartment beside the closet and pulled out the trusty automatic medikit he had removed from the Millennium Falcon.

“Lights,” Threepio said in a calm voice, and the illumination stayed on this time.

“Threepio, where’s Lando?” Han said. “Find him for me.”

“He’s down in the starship bays, sir. He left me a message to tell you that he is not impressed with your standards of maintenance on your former ship.”

“Well, he’d better have the Falcon running now, that’s all I can say,” Han said.

Jaina sniffed loudly and between sobs cried out, “Where’s Mommy?”

Han stopped as if hit with a stun beam. He knelt, looking into his little girl’s face. He brushed aside the tears on her cheeks and placed his hands on her tiny shoulders, giving a squeeze of confidence.

“Daddy’s going to rescue her,” Han said.

“Rescue her? Oh, dear!” Threepio interrupted. “Why does Mistress Leia need rescuing?” Chewbacca bellowed in answer, but Threepio waved mechanical hands at him. “You’re not helping, you know!”

Han turned to the Wookiee. “Not this time, buddy. I need you here to watch over the kids. There’s no one else I trust as much.” Chewbacca blatted a response, but Han shook his head. “No, I don’t have a plan yet. All I know is I need to get to Calamari before the Imperials destroy it. I can’t just stay here and let Leia face them alone.”

Han stuffed what