Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 09_ Edge of Victory 02_ Rebirth - J. Gregory Keyes [58]
“Well, how do you like that?” Han remarked.
“Emperor’s bones,” Jacen breathed.
The crate contained not blasters, stun batons, or grenades, but Yuuzhan Vong amphistaffs.
“Looks like our Brigade buddies are making the transition away from the evils of technology,” Han said. “Wonder if they’ve started scarring themselves yet?” He looked significantly at Jacen. “You still don’t think this was worthwhile?”
Jacen stared at the hibernating weapon-beasts.
“It’s done, now,” he allowed.
Han shook his head. “I don’t think so. I want to find out who is sending this stuff. Those amphistaffs were grown somewhere. Where? Duro? Obroa-skai?”
“You told the captain of this ship you would continue hijacking ships bound for Yuuzhan Vong space. Was that the truth?”
“It was. I’ve been trying to explain why.”
“It’s a bad idea.”
“Well, maybe. But like I told you earlier, I’m the captain.”
“It’s not that simple for me.”
“No? Then here’s something real simple. We’re taking this freighter and its cargo back to the Maw. When we’re done, you’re free to take one of these E-wings to Luke and sit the rest of the war out meditating or whatnot. Become a nurse or something. I don’t care. But if you’re going to keep this up, I don’t want you on my ship, son or not.”
Jacen didn’t answer, but his face went all stony. It was times like this that Han occasionally wished he had just a little of that Force ability to feel what others felt, because Jacen was a blank slate to him more often than not.
As his son vanished around the corner, Han realized exactly what he had said, and memory suddenly jolted through him with the force of vision. He saw himself with Leia in the cockpit of the Falcon the day they’d met, right after escaping the Death Star. “I ain’t in this for your revolution,” he’d told her. Not much later he’d told Luke much the same thing, dodging out of the fight against the Death Star for what seemed all of the right reasons, not the least of which that it was hopeless. That Han Solo had had a pretty weak grip on the idea of a worthy cause.
Somehow, things had gotten turned around. Not front to back, but in a weirder way. Ultimately it was because he just didn’t understand the kid, and the kid hadn’t a clue about Han.
Anakin he could understand. He used the Force in exactly the way Han would, if he had the ability. Jacen had always been more like Leia, and in the last year or so the resemblance had only grown stronger.
But here, suddenly, in the least flattering way he could imagine, the Solo genes were finally showing.
“Don’t go, son,” Han murmured, but there was no one to hear him but the sleeping weapons.
TWENTY-ONE
Corran flicked on his lightsaber and began helping Anakin cut into the ridge on the Yuuzhan Vong ship. Tahiri got the idea and joined them. Together, they sawed a hole deep into the ridge before Anakin’s knees began to buckle from his rapidly increasing mass.
Suddenly a chunk of the ship broke free and fell inward, pushed by the same acceleration that was about to kill the three Jedi. Atmosphere blew out, curtains of ice crystals sparkling in the starlight as Corran leapt through the gap, pulling Tahiri with him. Anakin followed.
Normal weight returned instantly as they entered the ship, probably due to the same gravity-bending dovin basals that drove the craft.
Anakin looked around him to see where they were.
In the mingled glow of their lightsabers, Anakin made out a dark grotto, walls haphazardly patched with luminescence. Even as he watched, however, the light faded as the bitter cold and vacuum that slunk in with the Jedi killed whatever plant or creature manufactured it. The chamber’s function was difficult to determine. The roof was very low, no more than a meter and a half, and it rambled on for a considerable distance. Black columns or tubes ran from floor to ceiling every two meters or so. The columns bulged in the middle, and Anakin thought they