Doxin pointed out.
Sivron whirled and parted his lips to show pointed
teeth. "Isn't that good enough to knock out a few little
ships?"
Doxin blinked his piggish eyes as if he
hadn't considered the possibility. "Why, yes,
sir — yes, it is. Ready to fire."
"At your convenience, Division Leader,"
Sivron said.
Eagerly, Doxin spoke into the intercom,
commanding the gunners to fire. After a few seconds
the incredible beam of light seared out; side lasers
converged at a focal point and coalesced into a
laser battering ram that plowed through the fringe of the
oncoming cluster of fighters, vaporizing one old
blockade runner in the vanguard of the left
prong. Another ship was damaged by the backwash
of the blast, but the attacking forces spread out and
disappeared into the superstructure like parasites,
firing again.
"Did you see that?" Doxin said with obvious
pleasure. "We hit one!"
"Hooray," Golanda said sourly from her seat.
Her voice carried absolutely no
enthusiasm. "Only about forty more to go, and you can't
even fire the superlaser again for fifteen
minutes."
"Director, if I may make a
suggestion," the stormtrooper captain said. "We
have successfully tested the prototype laser, but
to stay here any longer would serve no purpose.
To endure unnec damage to this fine weapon is
folly. We should protect the Death Star so we
may present it intact to the Imperial
authorities."
"And what do you suggest doing,
Captain?" Tol Sivron said. He dug his
long claws into the armrests.
"We should withdraw to the Maw cluster. I doubt
these small ships will follow. We are not highly
maneuverable, but we can build up considerable
speed. Note that we don't need to go all the
way back to the Installation, just to the opposite
side of the cluster where we can hide." The captain
paused, then said slowly, "Once there, you will have
time to hold a lengthy meeting, to decide what
to do. You can ... discuss the whole situation
wascommittee if you like."
Tol Sivron brightened. "Good idea,
Captain. See to it. Let's head out of here as
fast as we can."
The stormtrooper captain fed in a new
course for the prototype. The huge
open — framework sphere wheeled about on its axis
and accelerated away from Kessel, cumbersome but
picking up speed as it left the flurry of other
ships behind.
After the blaze from the Death Star's third blast
faded, Han Solo rubbed sparkles out of his
eyes, seeing distorted colors. "That was too
close," he said. "The fringe of the beam fried our
forward shields."
Shana's old blockade runner had been
destroyed, and some ships now flew off in
retreat. "We have to regroup," Kithra's
voice came over the comm system.
"I think we should just get out of here," Han
said.
"Look!" Lando interrupted as the arching
framework of the Death Star spun about and began
to accelerate away from Kessel. "We've got
it on the run."
"For now," Mara said, "but it may just be
retreating long enough to recharge its power core so it
can strike again."
"Kessel won't be safe while that thing is out
there," Lando said. "Han, we've got to go in.
Let's take the Falcon all the way to the
power core."
"Are you crazy, Lando?" Han asked, his
voice rising. "This is my ship, remember."
"I'm not contesting that," Lando said, holding his
hands up, "but I've flown her into a Death Star
before. Remember?"
"I've got a bad feeling about this,"
Han mumbled, and he shot a sidelong glance at
Mara Jade. "But you're right. We can't just run
away. If the prototype falls into the hands of the
Imperial navy, it could cause a lot more
misery than I want to be responsible for.
Let's go in."
He punched his accelerators. Mara sent
orders to her fleet. "All ships back off.
We're going in. Alone."
The Falcon cruised through the nightmarish
maze of overhanging girders, coolant and
ventilation systems, power conduits and substations that
formed the inner structure of the Death Star
prototype. Catwalks laced the open spaces
like so many spiderwebs.
The Falcon shot inward, tunneling deeper
and deeper into the construction as the framework grew
denser, more complex. Han spun the ship left and
right to squeeze through narrow passages.
Just ahead, in the middle of a huge open
corridor, a mammoth — sized construction crane
toppled from its moorings, dislodged by the smuggler
attack and the sudden lurching movement of the
prototype. The crane fell, tumbling in
silence through the vacuum of space, directly
into the path of the Falcon.
"Look out!" Lando cried.
Han punched the firing buttons and sent out a
converging blast from his laser cannons, disintegrating
the falling machine into an expanding plume of
incandescent gas and metal steam. Lando leaned
back and closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh.
As the Falcon careened through, the passengers were
bumped and jostled. Large debris struck the
deflector shields. Sparks flew out of the
control panels, and smoke poured from the engine
panels beneath the floor plates.
"We've got damage!" Lando yelled.
Han fought for control. "She'll hold together,"
he said, as if praying.
Suddenly the Death Star jerked and slammed
forward as its heavy — duty sublight engines fired
up. Han tried to match the speed, spiraling
closer to the power core. The Falcon lurched,
barely responding to Han's attempts
to maneuver.
They passed gargantuan girders ringing the outer
core, tumbling into a vast enclosed space, a
spherical chamber that contained the two gleaming
conical sections of the power core.
Green — and — blue fire crackled between the contacts
as reactors pumped up the energy level,
recharging the weapon to fire again.
"Talk about recurring nightmares," Lando
said. "I never wanted to see anything like this again in
my life."
"I guess we're just lucky," Han said,
scanning his damage reports. "We need
repairs bad," he said through gritted teeth.
"Lousy time for the engines to act up."
The Death Star rotated again, changing course and
accelerating once more with equatorial propulsion
units. Han narrowly avoided an arc — shaped
girder that swung across to slam at them; he
maneuvered the Falcon around it in a tight
loop and limped toward the superstruc
ture that
held the reactor core in place.
"I need to check on those engines," Han said,
"but I can't do anything while the Death Star is
moving and rocking like this. We're going to have
to settle in for the ride."
"Settle in?" Mara asked in astonishment.
"Don't get all bent out of shape. I did
this once before to elude Imperial pursuit," he
said, flashing a lopsided grin. "A nice little
trick built into the Falcon. Added it myself."
Han brought the ship up parallel to one of the thick
girders. "It's my landing claw. I used it
to hang on to the back of a Star Destroyer, then
drifted off with the garbage as the fleet entered
hyperspace."
The Falcon attached itself with a clang.
Directly below them the towering cylinder of the power
core blazed into the emptiness, shining its deadly
light.
"We're secure here for now," Han said.
"But if they plan to go back inside the black
hole cluster, we could be in for one wild ride."
Riding together in the close confines of the Sun
Crusher, Luke felt young Kyp Durron
draw mentally closer to him as they journeyed toward
the black hole cluster.
Kyp was gradually overcoming his fear and
preoccupation with Jedi powers and the potential for
abusing them. After his epiphany inside the
temple of Exar Kun, Kyp had emerged
stronger, able to accept the challenge. If
he could face this final test, Luke would know that
Kyp had passed through the fire of his testing —
tempered by forces as dire and powerful as those Luke
himself had endured. ...
Luke smiled as he recalled how Leia had
argued for Kyp in the Council meeting, fighting
for the chance that Luke offered. During her very first
session as leader of the New Republic, Leia
had presented her brother's demand; in the uproar
that followed she had reasoned, cajoled, or shamed
every one of them into giving Luke a chance.
She had emerged from the hours — long meeting in the
middle of a bright Coruscant day. Kyp and
Luke, waiting for her in one of the high mezzanine
caf@es within the enormous Imperial Palace,
had sipped warm drinks and sampled delicacies
from a hundred planets that had sworn allegiance
to the New Republic. Leia had brushed
aside her two bodyguards and hurried forward
to meet them as other bureaucrats and minor
functionaries stood up from their tables in
recognition of their new Chief of State.
Leia ignored the attention.
Her face was haggard and exhausted, but she could
not hide her satisfied smile and the twinkle in
her large eyes. "The Sun Crusher is yours
to dispose of," she had said. "You'd better take
it before someone on the Council decides my
victory was too easy and moves to reopen the
discussion."
Then Leia had turned a stern face toward
Kyp. "I'm gambling my entire future
administration on you, Kyp."
"I won't let you down," Kyp had
promised, holding his head high. Luke did not
need Jedi powers to sense the determination in the young
man.
They had flown away from Coruscant
into hyperspace on a direct course for the Maw
cluster near Kessel.
The two of them ate rations and shared a warm
silence. When they finished, Kyp fell into a
deep rejuvenation trance, a form of deathlike
hibernation that Luke taught all his students; the
young Jedi awoke after only an hour, looking
greatly refreshed.
En route Kyp had shared fond memories of
his home planet, Deyer. He spoke in a
halting, wistful voice about his brother Zeth. As
Luke listened with quiet understanding, Kyp
let loose his sorrow and wept cleansing tears,
finally allowing himself the freedom granted by the
vision of his brother's spirit in the obsidian
temple.
"Yoda made me take a test of my own,"
Luke told him. "I had to go into a cave in the
swamps of Dagobah, where I confronted a
vision of Darth Vader. I attacked and defeated
him, only to find that I was fighting myself. I
failed my test, but you succeeded."
Luke looked into Kyp's dark eyes. "I
don't promise it will be easy, Kyp, but the
rewards of your efforts will be great, and the entire
galaxy will benefit from them."
Kyp looked away as if embarrassed and
studied the piloting controls of the Sun Crusher.
"Ready to come out of hyperspace," he said. "You
strapped in?"
Luke nodded with a slight smile. Around them
hyperspace looked bruised and distorted from their
proximity to all the black holes.
Kyp stared at the chronometer and concentrated as
the numbers spun by. "Three, two, one."
He released the levers, and suddenly the blur
sprang away from their viewport, and real space
snapped into crystal focus around them.
Luke saw the distant gaseous knot of the
Maw, but he instantly felt a wrenching inside
as if something was terribly wrong.
"What happened to Kessel?" Kyp said.
Luke found the much closer, distorted shape of
Kessel masked by an expanding debris cloud.
"The garrison moon," Kyp said. "It's
gone."
"We've been detected," Luke said.
"Ships coming in." He sensed the anger and dismay
speed and converging on the Sun Crusher.
The speaker buzzed with a forceful female
voice. "This is Kithra of the Mistryl guard,
representing the Smugglers' Alliance.
Identify yourself and state your business in the
Kessel system."
"This is Luke Skywalker," he said,
restraining a confident smile. "We're here on
business for the New Republic. Our mission is
to destroy the Sun Crusher, and we had hoped
to hitch a ride back to Coruscant with one of
your ships. Mara Jade cleared us by subspace
transmission only yesterday."
"Commander Jade is not here now," Kithra said.
"But she did notify me you would be coming. As you can
see, though, we have recently been under attack."
"Tell me your situation," Luke said.
"Where's Mara? Is she okay? What about Han
Solo?"
Kyp let his eyes fall half — closed,
reaching out with the Force, searching. He jerked his head
to the left, toward the swirling mass of the Maw.
"Han's there — he's over there."
Kithra's voice came over the speaker again.
"A Death Star prototype attacked us," she
explained as the smuggler ships swarmed around them in
a protective contingent. "We suspect it was
fleeing the New Republic occupation force that
recently entered the cluster."
"Wedge and Chewie are inside the Maw,
too," Luke said to Kyp.
"What happened to Han?" Kyp said into the comm
with rising urgency.
"Our ships struck at the prototype and
caused some minor external damage, but Han
Solo flew the Millennium Falcon into the
superstructure. Commander Jade ordered us
to fall back. The Falcon was carried along as
the Death Star retreated toward the Maw. They were
going to attempt to sabotage its power core, but
we've heard no word from them since."
"How long has it been?"
"Only a couple of hours," Kithra
answered. "We've been considering our options."
Luke looked to Kyp, and their eyes met in
shared concern. "We don't have any options,"
Luke said.
Kyp nodded. "We've got to help Han."
"Yes," Luke said, swallowing hard. "Into the
Maw."
For two Jedi, finding a safe path through the
labyrinth of gravity wells proved simple
enough. Working together, Luke and Kyp reinforced each
other's perceptions, flying the Sun Crusher in
tandem, like linked navicomputers.
The Sun Crusher rattled and vibrated with the
strain. Luke experienced a stretching of his mind
as he let his senses extend outward, as if
dragged downward into the bottomless black holes.
Kyp flew with his eyes closed, his jaws
clenched, his lips drawn back in a grimace.
"Almost through the wall," he said through his
teeth.
After passing through an eternity of superhot
colors, they fell into the quiet bubble within the
center of the cluster.
Clearing his vision, Luke searched for the Death
Star prototype, expecting to see it firing at
Wedge's assault fleet. But instead he saw
quite a different space battle in progress:
New Republic forces blasting, starfighters
launched in frantic dogfights — arrayed not against
the Death Star, but against the deadly spear — point
shape of a battered and blaster — scarred Star
Destroyer.
"It's Admiral Daala!" Kyp said, his
voice thick with hatred.
The wire — frame prototype hid, powered
down, on the far side of the Maw cluster as Tol
Sivron, Golanda, Doxin, Yemm, and the
stormtrooper captain held a meeting to discuss
the implications of their changed situation.
It had taken some time to find an empty
storeroom that could be converted into an appropriate
conference chamber, and they had to forgo their hot
beverages and morning pastries. But these were