Star Wars - [Corellian 02] - Assault at Selonia (by Roger MacBride Allen)

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Volume 2

ASSAULT AT SELONIA

ROGER MACBRIDE ALLEN

.lit by DrB 12/04

Synopsis:

"Imprisoned on the planet Corellia, Han Solo finds himself at the mercy of his evil cousin,

Thracken Sal-solo. Thracken plans to restore the Imperial system and seize total power -- no

matter what the cost.

Han has one chance to stop him. But to do so he must turn his back on his human cousin and

join forces with a female alien. Dracmus was arrested as a ringleader in a plot against the corrupt

Human League.

Now she and Han will attempt a daring escape to Selonia in time to warn Leia, Luke Skywalker,

and Lando of Thracken's plan. But can Han trust the alien to keep her word?

Meanwhile, other questions threaten theNewRepublic -- and the lives of millions. Who is behind

the deadly Starbuster plot? Why is someone attempting to take possession of Corellia's powerful

planetary repulsors? And what is the secret behind the mysterious Centerpoint Station, and

ancient, artificial world of unknown origin that has suddenly -- and inexplicably -- come alive?

Sequel to Ambush at Corellia and prequel to Showdown at Centerpoint

What Has Gone Before. It is a time of uncertain peace in the Galaxy.

Fourteen years have passed since the defeat of the Empire and the death of Darth Vader. Leia

Organa Solo, her husband, Han Solo, and their three children, Jaina, Jacen, and Anakin,

accompanied by Chewbacca the Wookiee, have planned a family trip to Corellia, Han's home

world.

Meanwhile, a group known as the Human League is conspiring to overthrow theNewRepublic 's

government of the Corellian Sector. Some hints of the danger have reachedNewRepublic

Intelligence, and NRI agent Belindi Kalenda gives Han a cryptic warning about it. Kalenda herself

travels to Corellia under cover, but her ship is promptly shot down by unknown assailants who

plainly knew that she was coming. Kalenda survives the shoot-down.

Meantime, Luke Skywalker has agreed to accompany Lando Calrissian on his search for a

suitable wife, a search that carries him through a series of misadventures. Lando at last meets the

charming Tendra Risant of the planet Sacorria. However, heavy-handed local authorities force

Luke and Lando to leave Sacorria almost as soon as they arrive.

Upon arrival at the Corellian System, the Millennium Falcon is subject to a staged attack. Once

on the ground, Leia engages a tutor for the children, a Drall named Ebrihim, and the family

attempts to settle in.

During a tour of a large archaeological site, the three children, led by Anakin's power in the

Force, locate a huge and strange installation of unknown age and purpose-an installation for

which the Human League would seem to be searching. Mara Jade arrives at Corellia just as the

trade summit gets under way. She is the bearer of a coded message for Leia and Han. It contains

uncertain evidence that the senders deliberately touched off a recent supernova, and intend to set

off more, in populated star systems, if their unspecified demands are not met. The Human League

begins its long-planned revolt against theNewRepublic . The cities of Corellia erupt.

Chewbacca, assisted by Q9-X2, Ebrihim's irascible droid, manages to take the children to safety

aboard the Millennium Falcon, but the ship is damaged and cannot escape into

hyperspace. Chewbacca is forced to fly to Drall, Ebrihim's home world.

Once the revolt has scored some initial successes, Thracken Sale-Solo, Han's long-lost cousin

and a man known for his guile and cruelty, reveals himself as the leader of the Human League. A

powerful jamming system powers up, cutting off communications in the Corellian planetary

system.

Han manages to establish contact with Kalenda just before the jamming begins. He provides a

diversion for her as she steals an X-TIE "Ugly" fighter and flies toward Coruscant with news of

the catastrophe. Han, however, is captured by the Human League.

Meanwhile, Luke and Lando fly into a huge interdiction field that surrounds all of the Corellian

star system.

The field, far larger than any in history, prevents travel through hyperspace anywhere in the

system. Lando and Luke turn back for Coruscant to bring word. Leia is held hostage with the rest

of the trade delegates at Corona House, the Governor's residence. She does not know where the

children, Chewbacca, Ebrihim, and Q9, aboard the Falcon, have gone, and Han Solo languishes

in a Human League prison.

CHAPTER ONE

Family

His hands tied behind his back, Han Solo stumbled as the guards shoved him into the gloomy audience

chamber. He realized a moment too late that the floor of the central area was a half meter below the level

of the entrance. Moving too fast to stop, he fell over the edge. His shoulder slammed down into the hard

stone floor.

Han rolled over onto his side, then levered himself up into a sitting position. The guards who had

shoved him into the chamber stepped back out and slammed the portal shut behind them. Han was alone

in the echoing gloom.

He looked around, wondering what was next. At least he was out of that cell. That was something. Not

much, maybe, but something. And of course, whatever came next was not likely to be an

improvement. In his experience, it was reasonably safe to be filed away in a cell. It was when you were

pulled out that the trouble began.

Han got himself up onto his feet and looked around. The walls and floors of the place were made of

some sort of utilitarian dark gray stresscrete, and there was a dank scent to the air that suggested the

windowless chamber was underground. The room was about twenty meters wide and thirty' ion with the

central floor set half meter below a two-meter-wide platform that ran around the chamber's

perimeter. There were four heavy steel doors, one on each side of the chamber, each of them opening

out onto the perimeter platform. Anyone who stood on the platform would be looking down at whoever

was in the central area.

The door he had entered was at his back, and he was facing a not quite throne-like chair made of dark

wood on the opposite side of the perimeter platform. The chair was large and grand enough that whoever

got into it would probably be taller sitting than standing. Han would have an eye-level view of the

occupant's knees. That chair told him a good deal about why he was here, and who was going to see

him.

Han continued his survey of the chamber. Aside from the throne chair, the place was undecorated, and

poorly lit. Nor was it that well made. There were cracks in the floor, and whatever sort of stresscrete

they had used in the walls was crumbly-looking. A rush job.

Han had been in a lot of impressive places, and a lot of places that tried to be impressive. This place

definitely fit into the second category. The Human League had clearly wanted a chamber that would

overawe its prisoners as the Hidden Leader sat in judgment or watched them die for the fun of it; clearly

the League hadn't had the time or resources for a first-class job. All very interesting, but it wasn't the sort

of information that might help keep him alive.

Han turned his attention back to the chair. That was obviously where the Big Man would sit when he

got here-and Han had a very good idea of who the Big Man was going to be. There was really only one

man it could be. His cousin, Thracken Sal-Solo. Good old murderous, scheming, vindictive, paranoid

Thracken.

That was the who, but what was the why? At a minimum, Thracken wanted to get a look at

Han. There was good news and bad news in that. Obviously, they had been keeping him alive for this

meeting. But would they have any reason to keep him alive afterward? Did Thracken have any further

use for him? After all, Han had blown up half a squadron of Pocket Patrol Boats.

That was offense enough to get a fellow executed most places, and this place was no better than

most. Nor would his relationship to Thracken do him any good. Once Thracken had indulged his

curiosity, he would be quite capable of killing Han on the spot.

No, Han knew he wasn't going to live through this because of family feeling. He would have to make

himself seem valuable to Thracken if he wanted to survive.

But he had no intention of being the slightest help to Thracken’s Human League. So how to seem to be

valuable without actually doing these thugs any good? Han heard something moving on the other side of

the doors behind the not-quite-throne. He had run out of time for thinking.

Han backed away a step or two from the door. If Thracken the adult was anything like the Thracken of

Han's childhood, he was going to have to be careful, very careful, in the way he played this.

Thracken, as he recalled, had been quite young when he had started making a show of pulling the

wings off insects and beating up smaller children. He had found out very early just how loudly a

reputation for cruelty could speak.

Here's what I do to someone I'm not even mad at. What do you think will happen if I get mad at

you? There were those in the Galaxy for whom cruelty, threats, and intimidation were art forms. Not

Thracken. He used them as blunt instruments, weapons. Which was not to say that he did not enjoy his

work?

The doors swung fully open and a double line of seedy-looking men in officers' uniforms came in. One

column turned and marched around the corner of the platform to the left of the throne, the other to the

right. The two columns lined up on the perimeter platform to either side of the big chair, turned, and faced

forward, eyes straight ahead, staring at each other across the center of the room, right over Han's head.

Judging by the insignia, which seemed to follow the old Imperial pattern, these were some very senior

officers indeed. But today's field marshals had, no doubt, been yesterday's malcontents. Fancy uniforms

and a forest of shoulder pips did not make the wearer a seasoned officer worthy of respect. These

fellows were no more the equals of the Imperial officers of the past than a child with a toy lightsaber

would be a match for Luke Skywalker.

By the looks of their paunches, none of them had done any real training in years. Their bleary eyes,

flushed faces, and unshaved jaws and the smell of strong drink that wafted in with them-told Han that at

least some of these very grand officers had been doing some fairly serious celebrating the night

before. That was a bit premature. How could even the most drunken of fools think that the Human

League had won already?

Plainly, this crowd was not made up ofGalaxyless minds. They were here as window dressing and

nothing more. Han paid them no more mind. He turned his attention back to the open door behind the big

chair. There was a moment's delay, either because the Great Man was running late, or because someone

thought it made for a more dramatic entrance.

But then, Thracken Sal-Solo, onetime Hidden Leader of the Human League, and now the self-declared

Dictat of the Corellian Sector-came into the room. He walked with the brisk, steady confidence of a man

who knew exactly what he was doing and where he was going, a man absolutely certain he could do the

job at hand. Thracken Sal-Solo stepped around the right-hand side of the big chair, came forward to the

edge of the platform and paused there a moment. He stared long and hard at his long-lost cousin, and

Han stared back. Han felt as if he were staring into a strange, distorting mirror. Thracken wore Han's

face, or else Han wore his. Not that one could not be told from the other. Thracken’s hair was darker, a

black-brown shot through with gray. He was a few kilos heavier, and he had a neatly trimmed

beard. Thracken was perhaps two or three centimeters taller than Han.

There was a harshness, a ruthlessness, not just in Thracken’s expression, but in the set of his face, as if

that look of anger and suspicion was the one his face fell into most naturally.

But even those differences did little more than emphasize how much they were alike. Han felt as if that

Imaginary mirror were showing him the man he might have been. He did not like the idea. Not one little

bit. This first meeting was a lot more disconcerting than he had expected it to be.

It was not just Han who saw the resemblance. The uniformed types that lined the two sides of the room

were obviously supposed to keep eyes ahead, but not one of them could resist the temptation to stare

first at Han, and then at Thracken. Small murmurs of astonishment filled the room.

Indeed, it seemed as if Thracken were the only one who did not find it all off-putting. He looked down

at Han with a calm and steady gaze. Han decided he had better do his best to take it all in stride as

well. Or at least pretend. "Hello, Thracken,” he said. “I sort of figured I'd be seeing you."

"And hello to you, Han," his cousin replied, in a voice that was startlingly similar to Han's. "Some things

never change, do they?"

"I'm not exactly sure I know what you mean."

"Back in the old days, Han," Thracken said. "Back in the old days. You were always the one who liked

to play games. And I was always the one who had to come in and clean up after you."

"That's not exactly the way I remember it," Han said.

Thracken had never cleaned up after himself, let alone anyone else. But he had always been good at

making it seem like he had. Most bullies were good at playing the victim. Thracken had never had the

slightest problem blaming others for his foul-ups, or taking all the credit for someone else's effort and

success. "But you're right," Han went on. "Some things never change."

"This time there's rather a lot to clean up," Thracken went on. "You shot up my spaceport, damaged or

destroyed six of my Pocket Patrol Boats, and allowed that X-TIE Ugly fighter to escape," Thracken

said. "We believe that X-TIE managed to jump into hyperspace. If its pilot is able to get word to

theNewRepublic , that could throw many of my plans into disarray."

"I thought the spaceport and the PPBs belonged to the Corellian government. I didn't think they were

yours," Han said.

"They are now," Thracken said. "For that matter, the government is mine as well. But just now the point

is that the games you are playing have caused me a great deal of trouble."

"I'm real broken up about that," Han said.

"I doubt it," Thracken said. "I wouldn't be, if I were you. But the question remains what am I to do with

you?"

"I have a suggestion." Han said, his voice light and casual. "Let me go and then let me accept your

surrender. I might be able to get theNewRepublic to go easy on you."

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to explain why I should do that." Thracken said, the trace of a smile

on his face.

"Because you're going to lose, Thracken," Han said. "Because that X-TIE got through, and even if it

didn't, someone else will get the word out, somehow. And you're up against the sameNewRepublic that

beat the Empire. II they could take on the Emperor and Darth Vader and Admiral Thrawn and the Death

Stars, what makes you think they should have any problems with the likes of you? Why not save

everyone a lot of trouble and give up now?"

Thracken smiled, but there was nothing warm or happy about his expression. Instead, the smile made

him look colder, harsher. He shook his head sadly. "Still the same old Han. Beaten up, dirty, unshaved, a

captive fresh from a night in his cell, and still full of the same old tired bluster and bluff." He hesitated a

moment, and leaned back in his chair. "There's a very good reason I'm not going to lose," he said. "I've

won already. It's all over. TheNewRepublic might be able to cause me some limited trouble, but nothing

more. Not unless they want a few inhabited star systems vaporized. Otherwise, they will leave me strictly

alone."

Han hesitated a moment before replying. Was there anything behind that claim? There was no doubt

that a star had gone supernova, a star that had no business doing any such thing. The League had claimed

responsibility, but how could a bunch of ignorant malcontents and thugs manage to blow up a star? "That

was a nice parlor trick," Han said. "But I'm not sure you can repeat it."

"Oh, we'll convince you," Thracken said. "Have no doubt of that." His voice, his manner, were

absolutely confident. If it was a bluff, it was an awfully convincing one.

"So why am I here, Thracken?" Han asked, in a tone of voice that made it sound as if he were a busy

man who had more important things to do. With most people, it would have been a suicidal display of

arrogance. But Han knew his cousin. A show of politeness would have won Han little more than a sneer

of contempt from Thracken.

"In such a hurry to get back to your cell?" Thracken asked with a wicked smile.

Han resisted the temptation to let out a sigh of relief. Until that moment he hadn't been sure if Thracken

intended him to live long enough to see his cell again. "No," he said. "But I'm not much interested in

trading threats, either. Why am I here?"

"I did have the vague idea that you might be willing to cooperate with me. Act like a patriotic Corellian,

help me get rid of theseNewRepublic interlopers. But I never did have much hope for that idea. It's not

going to happen is it? "

“Not in a million years."

"All right, then," Thracken said. "If you won't help me, why should I keep you alive?" That question

would have terrified most people under the circumstances, but Han knew Thracken from way

back. Even a few moments' reacquaintance told him he hadn't changed much since the old days. If

Thracken had already decided to kill him, he wouldn't have wasted his time with word games. Han would

already have had a blaster hole through his chest.

Thracken’s cruelty had never been capricious or pointless. Whenever he did something vicious, indeed

anything at all-it was because doing it benefited him directly. Nor had Thracken ever been shy about

letting others do his dirty work, or been much interested in putting himself to extra effort. There was no

way to know for sure, but at a guess, Thracken had genuinely not yet decided whether or not to let Han

live.

He could go either way. And that meant the reasons for letting him live or die were in the balance. The

reasons for killing Han were depressingly obvious, but why would Thracken want him alive?

"There are lots of good reasons for not killing me,' Han said, trying to stall for time. He tried to sound

calm and confident, but Han's tone of voice didn't seem very convincing, even in his own ears.

"Perhaps you could help me think of a few,' Thracken said coolly.

Think, Han told himself. Work it out. Why would Thracken want him alive? Wait a second. Why were

any of them alive? It was obvious that the Human League had deliberately timed its phony uprising to

coincide with the trade summit, when lots of off-planet movers and shakers would be on Corellia. And all

of those brass were staying in the Governor-General's residence, Corona House. If the League had

wanted to, it could have blown the building to smithereens, killing everyone inside, decapitating the

planetary government at a stroke, and killing theNewRepublic 's Chief of State as well.

But they had done no such thing. Han had been at Corona House when the assault came. In his best

judgment, it had been a clumsily executed surgical strike, not a bungled decapitation attempt. It was clear

that the League had intended to bottle up the Governor-General and Leia and the rest of the higher-ups

in Coronet House by sealing off all the exits and burying them in rubble. That Han had managed to

escape was a testament to their incompetence, not their intent.

It was hard to escape the notion that Thracken wanted Leia and the others for use as bargaining chips,

hostages. Suddenly Han understood.

His cousin was keeping him alive in hopes of using him to ensure Leia’s cooperation in whatever plots

he was hatching. But if he needed something from Leia, that meant Thracken Sal-Solo was not the

master of all he surveyed, all bluster to the contrary. Han grinned, and this time he wasn't trying to

pretend. "There's no reason at all to keep me alive," Han said. "None whatsoever. At least there isn't if

you don't care how upset the Chief of State gets. And if she tends to get real angry when members of her

family are murdered in cold blood." Thracken was suddenly angry. "I don't need your Chief of State," he

snapped.

"Then why did you work so hard to capture her?" Han demanded. "Why was the revolt timed for the

beginning of the trade summit?"

"Quiet!" Thracken half shouted. "I'll ask the questions around here. One more word out of you about

your wife and I swear I'll kill you myself, here and now, no matter how much I need you alive."

Han said nothing, but simply smiled, knowing that he had won and that Thracken knew it. Han had

called his bluff. Thracken glared at him and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I had forgotten

just how much you used to drive me crazy," he said. "But I think I can at least remind you that it is not

wise to try and score points off me. Besides," he said, gesturing to the men lining the two sides of the

room, "my officers have been working very hard and they deserve some recreation."

Thracken smiled again, and, if anything, it was an even more unpleasant expression than it had been the

last time. "Honor detail may stand at ease," Thracken said, keeping his eyes squarely on Han.

The thugs-in-uniform relaxed, shifted their feet, and smiled at each other with a certain nasty

eagerness. "Captain Falco, instruct the keepers to send the other prisoner in."

One of the greasier-looking officers saluted and said, "Yes, sir." He pulled a comlink out of his pocket

and spoke into it. "Send it in Sergeant."

There was a moment of pause, one that Han did not enjoy at all. Then, faintly at first, but gradually

getting louder, Han could hear muffled footsteps coming from behind him, from beyond the door he had

come through. Han turned to face the door, and backed away from it. Doing so put Thracken directly

behind him, but it seemed to Han that, all things considered, his cousin was dangerous no matter where

he was. He was, at any rate, the danger Han knew. Best to concentrate on the danger he didn't know.

The doors swung open and a pair of heavily armed Human League troopers came in, their blasters at

the ready. They immediately took up positions on either side of the door, with their backs to the

wall. Han had rated no such precautions. It would seem the Leaguers regarded the whatever-it-was as

far more of a threat than Han.

After a moment's pause, the "other prisoner" came in-and suddenly Han understood all the precautions.

The "other prisoner" was a Selonian. Even thugs and fools knew to take Selonians very seriously

indeed. And this Selonian was a big and tough-looking female, though that was no surprise. All the

Selonians ever seen in public were big, tough, and female. Selonians tended to be a trifle taller and more

slender than humans. They had somewhat longer bodies, and shorter arms and legs. Though normally

bipedal, they could go on all fours when they wanted.

Their hands and feet had retractable claws, good for climbing or digging-also very good in a fight. They

were strong swimmers, with short, powerful tails that helped steer and propel them in the water, and

served as a counterbalance while walking-and, not incidentally, as a fearsome club in a fight.

Theory had it that Selonians had evolved from some sort of predatory swimming mammal that lived in

riverside burrows, a species that moved from riverside burrowing to sophisticated tunneling far from

water. They had sleek, short fur, usually brown or black, and long pointed faces full of sharp teeth. They

had bristly whiskers and equally bristly tempers if you didn't know how to handle them right.

They lived in underground for the most part, and their social structure was unusual, to say the

least. But, interesting though it was, Han was not worried about how the Selonian society was controlled

by sterile females just at the moment. He was more interested in this particular sterile female's very, very

sharp teeth.

The big, lithe, graceful creature walked into the room calmly, casually, with such self-assurance she

might have been the master of the place rather than a prisoner. Three more guards followed her into the

chamber, but she paid no more mind to them than she had to the first pair.

There was one other thing that Han could not help but notice-the Selonian had her hands free. That

could only mean that the Selonian had given her parole, promised not to disobey or attempt to escape. It

would otherwise be absolute madness to let her go free. But if she had given her parole, then the guards

were not only superfluous, they were a deadly insult. It was definitely not advisable to question a

Selonian's honor. Arrogance or ignorance might explain such a lapse, but nothing could forgive it.

"Get down there, you," said one of the guards, pointing to the lower level of the chamber, where Han

waited. They had shoved Han over the edge with his hands tied behind his back. The Selonian they

allowed to use a small set of stairs set in the left rear corner of the chamber. She walked down the stairs

with a calm grace, and came to stand in the center of the chamber. She turned toward Han and looked at

him, her expression utterly neutral.

"Say hello to Dracmus," Thracken said. "Quite an impressive specimen, don't you think? She was trying

to do us a little damage in Coronet when we picked her up."

Han said nothing. Taunting Thracken was one thing. He could know just how far to push things, know

what the consequences might be. Not with a Selonian. Not with the way things were shaping up here.

Thracken laughed. "Not taking any chances, I see. Dracmus, say hello to the family pirate and traitor,

my dear cousin Han Solo."

"Belloma-la ecto niandaba-sa, despecto Han Solo!" said Dracmus. "Pada ectal ferbmz bellorna-cra."

Her voice dripped with contempt, but the words did not match the tone. "Speak you this language of

mine, Honorable Han Solo? None of these fools do."

Han thought fast. He had no way of knowing what Dracmus intended. All he knew was that she was

the enemy of his enemy-if even that much was true. She could be some hired stooge of Thracken’s,

playing a part in some convoluted plan of his. Could this be a trap? But what point to a trap when he was

already a prisoner? And suppose Dracmus was wrong, and one of the Leaguers did speak Selonian?

But the universe never had given Han many sure answers, and it wasn't likely to start anytime soon.

"Belona-sa mandaba-la kurso-kurso," Han snarled back, trying to make his voice as abusive sounding

as Dracmus's had been. "Speak me it well enough." Han backed to the corner and risked a glance at

Thracken. His cousin was grinning from ear to ear. Clearly he had no doubt the two of them were trading

insults.

"Kilisa Sa koma lose zul embaga. Persa chana-sa promas els abta for dejed kuilo," Dracmus growled

the words, and snapped her jaws at him. "Good! I think they will force us to fright. Allow me to win

quickly and you will avoid being well injured" Han had been afraid of that. It would be just like Thracken

to force two prisoners to fight, especially in a combat as unequal as this one would be.

"I see there is great love between you," Thracken said. "I think our Selonian friend has many pent-up

feelings for her hosts. She cannot vent them on us, as she has given her parole, and must not break her

oath. I must say that it is convenient to have an enemy of such strong principles. I think I shall reward her

honorable behavior and let her take it all out on you."

Han tugged at his bonds, but they held firm. "Nice fair fight, Thracken," he said. "A Selonian against a

human with his hands tied behind his back."

Thracken laughed. "I'm interested in entertainment, Han, not fairness." He indicated the four guards,

who, by this time, had positioned themselves in the four corners of the chamber's upper level. "Shoot," he

ordered.

All four of them aimed their blasters at the center of the chamber's floor and fired simultaneously. The

floor exploded in a gout of flame. Han flinched back from the blast, and felt stinging pains on his face and

hands as he was peppered with micro-fragments of pulverized stresscrete. Han staggered back,

half-blinded and half deafened.

"If you do not acquit yourself well, my troopers will fire again. At both of you. I would suggest you

make the fight convincing."

Han shook his head and blinked, trying to get over the effect of the blaster shots at close range. "How

am I supposed to fight convincingly with my hands behind my back?" he asked.

Thracken laughed again. "You can't expect me to give you all the answers," he said. "Show a little

initiative.”

Han's vision had cleared enough now for him to see Dracmus, and it was plain that the Selonian was

more than prepared to give a good fight. She had her mouth open, putting her needle-sharp teeth on clear

display.

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Volume2 ASSAULTATSELONIA by ROGERMACBRIDEALLEN.litbyDrB12/04 Synopsis: "ImprisonedontheplanetCorellia,HanSolofindshimselfatthemercyofhisevilcousin,ThrackenSal-solo. ThrackenplanstorestoretheImperialsystemandseizetotalpower--nomatterwhatthecost. Hanhasonechancetostophim. Buttodosohemusttu...

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