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SOLO KNOWS. WE CAN COUNT ON HIS INVOLVEMENT.

Then nothing. Those were the last messages Jarril had sent.

Lando copied them to his own computer. He glanced at Jarril. Jarril had known something, told Han, and now Jarril was dead. Which meant that someone was after Han.

Someone who had taken the A-wing and left the Spicy Lady to drift.

Lando got out of the copilot’s chair. He had a call to make to Coruscant, and he couldn’t make it from here.

Brakiss. Luke sat on the rubble-covered stair. He wasn’t willing to leave the Hall, not yet. Not until he had gotten all the remnants of emotion and knowledge he could get.

Brakiss. One of the failures. One of the students who had turned to the dark side. Luke remembered each student who left Yavin 4 before completing training. Some had left because of family crises (Decide you must how to serve them best), and those crises always came at the wrong point in the training. (This is a dangerous time for you, when you will be tempted by the dark side of the Force.) He remembered Ben and Yoda; he always let those students go although he gave them the same admonition Yoda had given him: Mind what you have learned. And in his mind he always added the next sentence: Save you it can.

Some did. They returned for more training. Others disappeared. Luke hoped that they too would return someday.

But none of them had left in the same spectacular manner as Brakiss. Brakiss was one of the handful of Imperials who had tried to infiltrate the Jedi Academy. Unlike the others, Brakiss had a true talent for the Force. Luke decided to see if he could keep Brakiss away from the dark side.

The training went well. Brakiss softened, and Luke thought it time to give him the equivalent of the dark cave on Dagobah. Luke sent Brakiss on a journey in which Brakiss had to face himself. Brakiss emerged, terrified and angry. He left Yavin 4 and went back to the Empire.

Luke knew that one day he would see Brakiss again.

He had feared it would be like this.

“Master Luke! Master Luke! Oh, thank heavens we found you!” Threepio’s voice cut through Luke’s reverie. Luke glanced over his shoulder. Threepio stood in the door with Artoo at his side. They started to come in.

“No!” Luke said. “It’s too unstable in here. Meet me outside.”

“But Master Luke—”

“I’ll be right there, Threepio.”

“I hope so,” Threepio said. He walked away from the door. Artoo bleeped at Luke and then followed Threepio. It had to be something serious, then. Artoo sounded distressed.

Luke stood. He got no more of Brakiss than that initial sensory impression. And it bothered him. He wasn’t used to such superficial feelings. But all he had felt around this blast had been strange.

He climbed out. One of the workers in the outer corridor looked at him. “Those your droids, Master Skywalker?”

Luke nodded.

“They seemed agitated.”

Luke smiled. “Threepio always seems agitated. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

He continued outside. Threepio and Artoo stood on the dirt-covered lawn. They were facing the door. Threepio turned and said something to Artoo when Luke appeared.

“What’s so important?” Luke asked.

“Master Luke, Artoo and I had a dreadful experience in the maintenance bays. Artoo insisted that we go down there and we were taken prisoner by this horrible Kloperian who seemed to have no idea who we were. I wouldn’t have brought this to you, sir, but Artoo insisted. He said you needed to know—”

“What were you doing in the maintenance bays? Those are off-limits to all but specialized droids.”

“Artoo insisted,” Threepio said. “He’s been behaving quite badly. In fact, the language he used in front of the Kloperian—well, it made my gears freeze if you get my meaning, sir. And—”

“Artoo?” Luke asked.

Artoo bleebled, then a compartment opened near his base and a small tube arm emerged. Luke held out his hand, and Artoo dropped several tiny chips into it.

He crouched and examined them. “These are the X-wing’s memory chips.”

Artoo moaned, a mournful sound.

“The X-wing is in pieces, sir. If I had known that Artoo was going to steal