Hero's Trial: Agents of Chaos I (35 page)

“We do have a clue,” Luke said. “Vergere used her tears to mend a blaster wound suffered by an intelligence officer aboard the
Queen of Empire
. She applied them by hand.”

“Topically,” Oolos clarified.

Cilghal studied him with one eye. “But Mara’s illness isn’t topical, it’s systemic.”

All at once Luke called the bulb to his hand with the Force. Inverting it, he brought it to his mouth, prepared to squeeze a drop onto his tongue. But Mara just as quickly snatched it from him and took a few drops into her own mouth before Luke could stop her.

“Mara!” Oolos and Tomla El said in unison.

But Mara wasn’t in distress. She inhaled sharply, then opened her eyes wide. “Oh, Luke,” she said, as if in awe. “I can’t explain exactly how I feel, but it’s like water after days of going without it.” She looked at her hands—first the palms, then the backs—and touched her face. “My fingers and my face are tingling.”

Gently, Luke took the bulb from her and squeezed a drop onto his tongue. “I don’t feel anything,” he said after a moment.

Mara took the bulb back and held it close to her heart. “There’s no reason you should feel anything.”

Luke looked his wife in the eye. “Mara, there’s one more thing you need to hear: Showolter said that the healing effect was temporary. Vergere told him as much when she came to his aid. He was already going into shock when he found Han.”

“That doesn’t mean it will work that way on me,” Mara said firmly. “Besides, at this point, I’ll accept temporary.” She forced a breath and took Luke’s hand in hers. “You have to let me do this, Luke. I know that you and Cilghal have been trying to heal me through the Force, and I know that I haven’t made it easy for you by withdrawing into myself. But this illness has been part of
me for over a year now. It’s been my challenge, and I’ve fought it every way I know how. But it’s winning, Luke. It’s winning.”

She lifted the bulb to eye level. “If this makes things worse, then I’ll just have to fight even harder. But everything in me tells me that won’t happen. Do you understand?”

“At least let us monitor you,” Tomla El advised. “If something begins to go wrong, there are steps we may be able to take.”

“No,” Luke said, holding Mara’s gaze. “We’ll do this Mara’s way.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, then moved to a nearby countertop and carefully dribbled some of the tears into her cupped right hand. Before she could bring the transparent liquid to her lips or face, however, it vanished.

“My hand absorbed it,” she said in amazement, showing her palm.

Oolos approached, looking down at her from his towering height. “Mara, at least tell us what you’re feeling.”

She took a stuttering breath. “I’m not sure. Lightheaded, flushed. Everything is suddenly so bright—” She gave a start. “It’s triggering something inside me! I can—”

Mara’s arms and legs began to tremble. She put her head back, as if fighting for breath. She might have fallen if Luke had not hurried to her side.

“Quickly, Luke, convey her to the table,” Oolos said.

Luke carried her to the diagnostic table and set her down on her back. Eyes tightly shut, Mara groaned and hugged her trembling torso.

“We’ll have readouts momentarily,” Tomla El said from the table’s control console.

Luke’s eyes didn’t move from Mara. “Mara,” Luke whispered, close to her ear. “Mara …”

She groaned once more and then gave a start, staring wide-eyed at Luke. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice a raspy whisper. “I can’t explain what I’m feeling. Did I make the wrong choice, my love?” Her expression became imploring. “Look at me, Luke. Look at me …”

Her voice trailed off and she lapsed into a state of semiconsciousness. Luke searched for encouragement in the eyes of Cilghal, Tomla El, and Oolos, but found none. He returned his gaze to Mara and reached for her in the Force.

As he did, the spastic movements of her limbs began to subside and her entire countenance began to change. Her face relaxed and tears leaked from the outside corners of her eyes. Luke’s face grew warm, and his eyes grew moist with relief and vigilant joy.

Mara’s eyes blinked open and she smiled weakly. “I think it’s working,” she said softly, wetting her lips with her tongue. She closed her eyes once more, as if luxuriating in what she was experiencing. “I can feel it coursing through me. It’s as if every cell in my body were being bathed in light.” She groped blindly for Luke’s hand and drew it to her breast. “I think I’m healing, Luke. I’m sure I’m healing.”

“Oh, Mara,” Cilghal said tearfully, coming to the table to lay her webbed hand on Mara’s shoulder.

Luke caught sight of the skeptical glances exchanged by Tomla El and Oolos, but he said nothing. Rather, he
looked again at Mara through the Force and found her luminous.

A smile of unabashed delight split his face. He put his arm under his wife’s shoulders and gently lifted her into his embrace. Her arms encircled his neck, and she clung to him, crying quietly and joyously.

“We have our victory,” Luke whispered.

Leia hurried through the apartment’s front entry onto the skyway balcony. But as eager as she was to give Han and Anakin the good news about Mara, she restrained herself from intruding on their conversation.

“The thing I still can’t figure out,” Han was saying, “is what put it in my head that Elan’s breath was deadly. It was like I heard a voice warning me. That’s when I grabbed the multitool.”

Gazing out across the city canyon, Han had one foot up on the balcony railing and the survival tool in his right hand. His travel pack sat at his feet. When a long moment had elapsed and Anakin still hadn’t responded, Han turned to him and loosed a short laugh.

“Thanks.”

Anakin’s brooding look changed to one of perplexity. “For what, Dad?”

“For not telling me that I was hearing Chewie through the Force.”

Anakin smiled. “Yeah, like I’d even think about saying that to you.”

Han raised his index finger. “And don’t even think about telling your uncle, either. All I need is for Luke to
hear that I’m hearing voices. This is strictly between you and me and the stair pillar, got it?” He turned slightly in Leia’s direction. “No offense, sweetheart.”

Leia showed him a blatantly counterfeit smile. “Better the stair pillar than the tread,
sweetheart
.”

Han nodded smugly, stood up, and approached Anakin. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for showing up at Roa’s ship that day.” He proffered the survival tool. “If it wasn’t for this … well, you know all about that.”

“Thank Chewie,” Anakin said. “He made it.”

Han shook his head. “I’ve already thanked Chewie. This is something between you and me.” He grasped Anakin by the shoulders and tugged him into a tight embrace.

Leia thought her heart might break. Her hand flew to her mouth and she fought back tears.

Han moved Anakin away, but he kept his hands on his son’s shoulders. “I’m sorry for what I said and the way I’ve been acting since Chewie died, Anakin. We did everything we could have done at Sernpidal, and Chewie knew that. We both know who’s responsible for his dying. But I don’t want vengeance prompting you to do anything foolish, you understand? You and Jacen and Jaina are more important to me than you’ll ever know.”

Anakin nodded and almost grinned. He and Han embraced once more.

“I’ve gotta get going,” Anakin said after a moment. “Uncle Luke is expecting me back on Yavin 4.”

“One thing before you leave,” Leia said, smiling. “Vergere’s gift seems to be working.” She cut her eyes to Han. “I just heard from Luke that Mara is stronger than she’s been in months. Whatever the tears contain, they’re
taking a lot out of her, but Oolos and Tomla El are hopeful that Mara will be in full remission in a few weeks.”

The three of them fell into a brief, gleeful embrace, which Anakin broke.

“First the Yuuzhan Vong poison Mara, then they send an assassin against us,” he said bitterly. “I’ll remember what you said about vengeance, Dad, but they’ve made this war personal.”

Leia’s eyes clouded over with misgiving, and she gave Anakin another hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

“Hey, kid,” Han shouted as Anakin was heading for the skyway bridge. “Any chance that Lowbacca’s become so busy with Jedi stuff that he and Waroo have forgotten about the life debt?”

“Not when I spoke to him last.”

“Blast,” Han muttered. “I guess I’m going to have to deal with this sooner or later.” He glanced at Leia and smiled. “So Vergere was on the level, after all.” He gave his head an incredulous shake. “It’s funny the way things work out. You go in search of one thing and end up finding something else. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was the Force at work.”

Leia kept quiet.

Han narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Wookiees have an expression, that the real quarry of every hunt is the unexpected. But I guess you tend to forget that when you’ve been out of the game for a long while.”

Leia heard something different and troublesome in his tone. She indicated his travel pack. “That hasn’t left your side since you got back,” she said, as casually as she
could. “Are you going to unpack or are you planning to have it stuffed and mounted?”

Han moved for the pack. “No use in unpacking just yet.”

Leia folded her arms under her breasts. “I guess I should have seen this coming. Then you’re not really home.”

“I’ve been home too much lately.” He grinned at her. “I figured you must be getting tired of seeing me hanging around.”

Leia didn’t move. “Don’t try to turn this around, Han.”

He gestured to himself. “Who’s trying to turn anything around? I’m only saying that I’ve got a few things that need doing.”

“Such as?”

“Such as finding Roa, for starters. And helping Droma locate his clanmates. He saved my skin, you know—twice.”

Leia launched a sardonic laugh to the sky. “Don’t tell me you owe Droma a life debt. This is too much, Han—even for you.”

His brow furrowed. “You can’t expect me to just forget about Roa or leave Droma hanging.”

She took a step toward him. “Do Wookiees have anything to say about taking senseless risks? Not a moment ago I stood here listening to you caution Anakin against doing anything foolish, and now you tell me you’re going off after Roa and Droma’s missing clanmates. Make up your mind which way you want it to be, Han.”

“What’s wrong with having it both ways?”

Leia snorted. “Relapse complete. Say hello to your former self, Han.”

“Relapse, nothing. This is the same me you married, sweetheart. Besides, you’re one to talk. While I was moping around here, you were on Dantooine, in Imperial Remnant space, all over the place, taking exactly the same kind of risks.”

“Are you saying that if I give up helping refugees, you’ll give up your fling with the past?”

“
My
fling?” he said. “What do you call what you’re doing?”

Leia started to say something but changed her mind and began again. “The New Republic is in a tough spot, Han. I could use your help.”

He held up his hands. “I’ve heard that before.”

“And you’ve usually listened.”

Han paced to the railing and back, avoiding her gaze. “In a way I’m already helping you out. I mean, with Droma’s family being refugees and all …”

Leia fell silent for a moment. As relieved as she was to see him finally emerging from grief, she couldn’t help but sense that he was intent on starting over, as he had done all his life—from abandoned kid to Imperial officer, and from smuggler to Rebel leader—always re-creating himself. From what little she knew of Droma from their few encounters, he seemed cut from the same cloth. For all Droma’s concerns about his scattered clanmates, he was a drifter and a rogue at heart, addicted to adventure.

Leia watched Han pace the edge of the balcony. “I don’t know how you’ve done it for so long,” she said finally.

He stopped to look at her. “Done what?”

“Raise a family. Walk so far from the edge.”

“That was just my ‘fling’ with stability.” He tried out his grin, but it didn’t work. “Look, I’m just leaving, okay? I’ve got obligations.”

“What about your obligations to us?”

“This has nothing to do with us.”

“Oh, no?” She advanced on him. “I learned a long time ago that you couldn’t be bound by anyone’s preconceived ideas of who you should be. And I’ll admit I love that about you. But keep one thing in mind: I’m not Malla, Han. I won’t have you dropping by here once a year, using our home as a base for your escapades.”

Han curled his upper lip. “You’re way off the mark.”

She smiled faintly. “I suppose we’ll just have to see about that.”

Han frowned sadly, then put his arms around her. “Trust me.”

She leaned away to show him a dubious look. “I’ve heard that before.”

He raised her hand and kissed the palm. “Tuck that in your pocket for later on.”

Scooping up his pack, he made for the sky bridge without looking back.

Elsewhere in the Solo apartment, C-3PO and R2-D2 were just concluding data upgrades that had obliged them to plug into the HoloNet and newsnet feeds. The 3-D images still shone from the HoloNet projectors, but the two droids were paying more attention to their own internal circuitry than to the displays.

“Events couldn’t possibly have worked out better,” C-3PO was telling his squat counterpart. “Mistress Mara
is well on her way to recovery, Master Han has returned home, and the Yuuzhan Vong have suffered a major setback. I couldn’t be more content if I’d just emerged from a refurbishing bath at an exclusive oil spa.”

R2-D2 rotated his hemispherical head and intoned a series of discomfiting chitters and modulating whistles.

C-3PO gazed at him for a moment. “What do you mean, I need to have my neural processor overhauled? What do you know of events that I don’t?”

R2-D2 fluted a reply.

“Master Han has not returned home?”

The astromech droid mewled and directed C-3PO’s attention to a display screen fed by the front entry security cam. The screen showed Master Han crossing the sky bridge in the direction of a public transportation balcony, and Mistress Leia, with the fingertips of one hand to her mouth, watching him leave.