Star Wars - [Corellian 01] - Ambush At Corellia (by Roger MacBride Allen)

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Star Wars - Ambush At Corellia by Roger MacBride Allen
"All right, Chewie, try it now," Han Solo stuffed the comlink back in his pocket and stepped back a bit
from the Millennium Falcon, an anxious look on his face. It ought to work this time. But that was what
they had figured the time before, and the time before that. He could see into the Falcon's cockpit
viewports from where he stood, and Chewbacca didn't look all that confident, either. He saw
Chewbacca reach for the lift controls. Han realized that he had been holding his breath, and forced
himself to exhale.
The Millennium Falcon shifted slightly on her hard stand, then rose slowly into the evening air, Chewie
took her up until the landing pads were at Han's eye level, and held her there.
Han pulled out the comlink again and spoke into it.
"That's good," he said. "Good. Now engage the shields," The air all around the Falcon seemed to
shimmer a bit, and then steadied down.
Han stepped back just a bit farther, not wishing to be all that close when Chewie cut the repulsors. "All
right, Chewie, repulsors-off!"
The glow of the repulsors dimmed, and the Falcon dropped abruptly-and stopped, suspended in midair,
with the landing pads waist-high off the ground. Sparks and scintillations flared and flickered here and
there on the hard stand as the shields' energy webs shifted under stress.
"Good," Han said. "Very good." Short of firing a turbo-laser at the ship from point-blank range, it Was
about as good a field test of overall shield strength as you could ask for. If the shields could support the
weight of the ship, then they couldSuddenly the sparking grew brighter, fiercer, just under the
number-two landing pad. "Chewie! Repulsors on! It's going to-' With a shuddering flash of light, the rear
shields blew out. The aft landing pads slammed into the hard stand with a bone-rattling impact that sent
Han sprawling. The forward end of the ship hung in midair as the rear half bounced on its jacks, back up
into the atr.
Just as the rear of the ship was at the peak of its travel, the forward shields died. In the same instant the
forward repulsors flared to life. The rear repulsors came on, lighting a split second after the forward units,
and flickering a bit.
Getting slammed into the pavement like that hadn't done the rear repulsor coils any good, that was for
sure. Still, Chewie had timed the recovery nicely. Han had seen ships flipped onto their backs trying to
recover from a failed shield hover.
Chewie brought the Falcon back down to a gentle landing and cut the repulsors. A moment later the
gangway lowered itself and Chewie came out, clearly none too happy with the situation. He made a loud
bugling noise, turned back up the gangway, and returned a moment later carrying a shield-tuning set.
That was not good. After all the years Han had spent with Chewie, he knew better than to let a frustrated
Wookiee vent his feelings on a repair job. He was just as likely to tear the shield generator out by the
roots as he was to letune it. "Ah, maybe that's not such a good idea, Chewie. Leave it for now. We'll
come back to it tomorrow." Chewbacca roared and threw the tool kit down.
"1 know, I know, I know," Han said. "It's taking longer than it should, and you're tired of tweaking up
subsystems that we optimized last week. But that's the way it is on a ship like the Falcon. She's a finely
tuned instrument.
Everything affects everything else. Adjust one system and everything else reacts. The only way not to go
through this would be to sap her and start over-and you don't want to scrap the Falcon, do you?"
Chewie looked back toward the ship with an expression that told Han not to press his luck on that point.
The Wookiee never had felt as deeply for the Falcon as Han had, and even Han knew the old girl would
have to be retired someday. Sooner or later it would be the scrap heap for her-or a museum, more likely.
That was an odd thought, but after all, the Falcon had made more than her share of history.
But just now the key thing was to get Chewbacca calmed down, or away from the shield system-or,
preferably, both.
"Tomorrow," Han said. "Back at it tomorrow. For now, let's leave it, all right? Leia's probably waiting
dinner on us, anyway."
The mention of food seemed to brighten Chewbacca up-as Han had intended that it do. Wookiee
management was a full-time chore, and then some. Now and then Han wondered just how much effort
Chewbacca put into Han management. But that was another point to consider later.
It was time to knock off for the day.
Amazing, how times changed, how time changed life.
After all the close calls, all the battles, all the captures and rescues and risks and victories Han had been
through, now it came down to getting home to dinner. I'm a family man now, Han told himself, still a bit
amazed by the fact. And perhaps the most amazing thing of all was how much he liked being one.
Han Solo looked up into the evening sky of Coruscant.
What was it now? Eighteen years? Eighteen years since he had hired on to fly a crazy old man named
Ben Kenobi and a kid named Luke Skywalker out of Tatooine. Taking on that job had changed his life
forever-and changed the course of galactic history, if you wanted to get grandiose about it, It was nine
years since the defeat of Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Dark Jedi Master, Nine years since the birth of
the twins, and just over seven since Anakin was born, "Captain Solo?"
It was a female voice that pulled him out of his reverie, The voice was low and throaty, and came from
behind him, Han did not recognize it, The unknown voice sounded dangerous, somehow, It was a little
too quiet, too calm, too cool, "Yeah," Han replied, turning around slowly. "My name is Solo," A small,
slight, dark-skinned human, a woman, stepped out of the shadows by the hangar entrance, She wore a
dark blue uniform that might be one of the Republic Navy branches, but then it might not, Han was not
up to date on what the navy was wearing these days, "Who might you be?" he asked.
She came toward him, smiling calmly. He could see her a bit better now. She was young, maybe
twenty-five standard years at most. Her eyes were set a bit wide apart, and : a trifle glassy. Her gaze
seemed to be a bit off-kilter, as if she were almost, but not quite, cross-eyed. She was looking right at
Han, and yet he had the distinct impression that she was looking over his shoulder, into the middle
distancer into the next galaxy over. Her jet-black hair was done up in an elaborate braid that was coiled
on top of her head.
She walked toward him with an easy confidence that seemed to brook no discussion. "Glad to meet
you," she said. "You can call me Kalenda."
"All right," Han said. "I can call you Kalenda. So what?"
"Solhaveafor you;" he said.
That brought Nan up short. A job? He was about to reply with some sort of flip remark, but then he
stopped. That didn't make sense.
Sile obviously knew who Han waswhich was not much of an accomplishment, as Han and Leia and Luke
were famous throughout the Republic. But if she knew who he was, she would have to know he was no
longer available for casual hire. Something wasn't right.
"Go on," Han said, careful to keep his voice neutral.
Kalenda shifted that strange gaze of hers so she was looking almost, but not quite, in the direction of
Chewbacca, "Perhaps we should talk alone," she said quietly.
There was a low growl from Chewie, and Han did not even bother to glance over his shoulder at the
Wookiee. He knew what he would see. Let Kalenda get a look at Chewie's fangs. "Perhaps we
shouldn't," he said. "I don't-want to hear anything you have to say that Chewbacca can't hear."
"Very well," she said. "But perhaps, at least, the three of us could talk in private?"
"Fine," Han said. "Come on aboard the Falcon."
Kalenda frowned, Clearly, she didn't like that idea either.
The Falcon was Han's turf. "Very well," she said.
Han gestured toward the ship with a sweep of his arm, and bowed very slightly, just enough to make it
clear the gesture was sarcastic. "Right this way," he said.
* * * The probe droid hovered silently up into position, coming up over the wall of the hard stand area,
then dropping in behind of packing cases to keep out of sight. it was painted matte black, and was all but
invisible in the deepening shadows. It watched the two humans and the Wookiee head up into the ship.
It extended an audio monitor probe and aimed it at the Millennium Falcon. After a moment's hesitation, it
moved in closer to the ship. Doing so exposed it to a greater risk of detection, but the probe droid
masters had programmed it to place a high priority on eavesdropping on just this sort of meeting. The
droid decided it would be worth the risk if its masters were able to get a good recording of the
conversation that was about to happen.
* * *
Kalenda walked up the ramp and into the ship, Han and Chewie following. It might have been more
polite to lead her aboard, but Han wanted to annoy her and he had the hunch she wasn't the sort who
liked people behind her, Han could not pass up the chance to make her a bit edgy. She reached the top
of the ramp and walked smoothly and confidently toward the lounge.
It took Han a moment or two to realize that she had never been aboard the ship before. She should have
stopped at the top of the ramp, uncertain of where to go next. Instead she was sitting back in the cushiest
seat in the lounge almost before Han and Chewie got to the compartment. She must have pulled up some
set of plans from somewhere and memorized the ship's layout. She had just demonstrated how much
research she had done on him, how much she knew.
All right then, fair was fair. If Han wanted to play games with her, it was only to be expected that she
would play a few right back at him. "Fine," Han said as he sat down.
Chewie remained standing, and just happened to be blocking the exit to the compartment. "You know
everything about me, down to the blueprints of my ship," Han went on.
"You have resources. You did your homework. It doesn't impress me."
"No, I suppose not," Kalenda said. "You're probably pretty hard to impress."
"I try to be," Han said. "And right now, I'd like to get home to my wife and family. What is it you wanted
to see me about?"
`Your wife and family," Kalenda replied, not so much as batting an eye. Now her odd, near-off-kilter
gaze seemed to lock and track perfectly, and she looked right at Han, her expression flat and hard.
Han stiffened and leaned in toward her, and Chewie bared his fangs. His family had been exposed to too
many dangers, too many times, for him to take even the hint of threat less than seriously. "Threats don't
impress me either," Han said, his voice as hard as her face. "With Chewbacca around, the people who
make them don't live very long. So you just pick your next words very, very carefully."
The compartment was silent for a moment, and Kalenda stared hard at Han. Their eyes locked. "I am n0t
threatening your family," she said, her voice still expressionless. "But New Republic Intelligence would
like to-make use-of them. And you."
New Republic Intelligence? What the devil was NRI doing coming to him? If Han was too well-known a
person to do smuggling work, he was definitely too well-known to be much use as a spy. Beyond which,
he didn't much like government spies, no matter who the government was, "You're not improving your
survival odds," Han said.
"Just how are you going to `use' us?"
"We know you're going to Corellia," Kalenda said.
"Nice work," Han said. "You must have a crack team of researchers that check the news every single
day. Our trip to Corellia is not exactly top secret." If anything, it was what passed for headline news in
these quiet times.
Leia was part of the Coruscant delegation to a major trade conference on the planet Corellia.
It was supposed to be the first step in reopening the whole Corellian Sector. The sector had always been
an inwardlooking part of the Empire, and of the Old Republic before that. By the time Han had left,
Corellia had gone past inward looking to downright secretive and hermetic.
By all accounts, things hadn't much improved since the New Republic had taken over, It was rare indeed
to see a mention of the Corellian Sector without words like "insular" or "paranoid" or "distrustful" popping
up as well.
Leia had counted it as a triumph just to get the Corellians to host the conference in the first place.
"Your wife's attendance has been reported, yes," Kalenda said, "But there has been little or no mention
of your going along, or your children,"
"What is all this about?" Han demanded, "My wife is going to a conference on my homeworid. So what?
I'm going, and we're taking the kids, Be nice to show them where the old man came from, Is that a
crime? is there something suspicious about that?"
"No," Kalenda said, "Not yet. But we'd like to make it suspicious.
"Now you've lost me. Chewie, if the next thing she says doesn't clear things up, you get to throw her off
the ship."
Chewie let out a half yelp, half howl that had the intended effect of unnerving their visitor. "That means
he's looking forward to it," Han said. "So, This is your big chance to tell me, clear,\y and concisely, what
this is all about. No more riddles.
Kalenda had lost some-but not all-of her poise. Han had to hand it to her. Even the vague notion of
tangling with Chewie was enough to make most people snap.
"Something's going on in the Corellian Sector," she said.
"Something big, and something bad. We don't know what.
All we do know is that we've sent in a half-dozen agentsand none of them have come back. None of
them has even managed to report."
Han was impressed by that news. The NRI was, by all accounts, very, very good at what it did. It was
the successor to the old networks of Rebel spies, back during the war against the Empire. Anyone or
anything that could kill or capture NRI agents at will was a force to be reckoned with, "I'm sorry to hear
that," he said. "But what does it have to do with my family?"
"We want to send in another team. And we want to provide cover for them. That's you."
"Look, Kalenda, or whatever your name really is. If the Corellians are as paranoid as you're saying they
are, they probably suspect me already. I'm not the espionage type. I wouldn't even make a good
amateur. I'm not a very subtle person. Your files aren't so good if they didn't tell you that."
"Oh, but they did tell us that," Kalenda said. "And we didn't need them to tell us that, because everyone
knows it already. The Corellians will be watching you like a hawk.
We don't want you to do anything except act suspiciously."
"I don't get it," Han said.
"We want you to act as suspiciously as possible," Kalenda said. "Give yourself a high profile. Be visible.
Ask nosy, awkward, questions. Offer bribes to the wrong people at the wrong time. Act like a bad
amateur. We want you to draw their attention, distract them while we insert our seal teams."
"What about my family?" Han asked. "What about my children?"
"To be fiank, your children have a reputation all their own. I doubt we'd even be approaching you if they
weren't in the picture. We're assuming they'll cause the opposition headaches all by themselves."
"I meant, will my children be sqfe?" Han asked. "I'm not so sure I should even be taking them if things are
as bad as you say."
Kalenda hesitated a moment. "The situation on Corellia is unsettled. There is no question about that.
However, if our understanding of the situation is correct, the role we are asking you to perform will not
expose them to any additional risk. Family is still held in high respect on Corellia. It is considered most
dishonorable to involve innocent family members in a quarrel. You should know that."
There was something in her tone of voice in that last answer that gave Han pause. As if she were talking
about something more than planetary tradition, and something a lot closer to ho. The trouble was, he had
no idea what.
Did the NRI know things about Han's own past that Han did not? Han looked her straight in those
strange eyes ol hers, and decided that he did not want to ask. "if I understand what you're saying," he
said, "you believe the jot you are asking me to do will not make Corellia any more dangerous for my
children, Is that correct?"
"Yes," Kalenda said, That didn't satisfy Han. He had the feeling that "yes" was a true answer, if not a
complete one.
"All right, then," he said, "Now, this next question I am asking as a father, as a Corellian who believes it is
dishonorable to involve the innocent. Would it be dangerous to take my children to Corellia?"
Kalenda slumped back and sighed. All the surface smugness went out of her, and Han could see doubt
and uncertainty. It was as if the NRI agent had suddenly vanished and the person behind was appearing.
"I give up being careful. Not when you put it that way. But I wish to the dark suns you hadn't asked me
that," she said. "I honestly don't know. We simply don't know what's going on out there. That's why we
need to do anything we can to get agents in place so we can find out. But there are children on Corellia
right now. Are they in danger? Is Corellia a riskier place than Coruscant? Almost certainly, though by
how much I couldn't say. On the other hand, travel all by itself is more dangerous than staying home.
Maybe you should never travel at all. If avoiding all risk is your only concern, take your children and hide
them away in a cave, just to be sure. But is that the way you want to live?"
Han looked deep into those strange eyes that seemed to see things that were not there. In his old days,
his reckless days, he wouldn't even have thought twice about flying straight into the worst sort of danger.
But fatherhood did things to a fellow. It wasn't just that he didn't want to endanger his kids. It went
beyond that. He didn't want to endanger himself needlessly either. Not for fear of death on his own
part-but the thought of leaving his children without a father-it was something he had to work into the
equation.
But suppose he did put his children in a cave, and put a tound-the-clock guard on them. And suppose
there was an underground rock slide? Or what if he did manage to protect them from all danger? What
sort of life would they have?
And how could they be expected to deal with a world full of risk and danger as adults if they had never
faced them - growing up?
There were no good answers, no certainties. Risk was a -part of life, and you had to take a slice of it
along with everything else. But there were questions of, honor, and duty as well. If there was trouble
back home, in the sector that had given him birth, what sort of man would he be if -he could help and did
not?
There was yet another factor. Leia was, after all, the Chief of State. She had been getting intelligence
reports about Corellia. She had to know about the situation. Very probably she even knew the specific
fact that the NRI had agents gone missing. Yet she was willing to bring her children along. And that was
good enough for Han.
"Thank you," Han said. "I always appreciate a straight answer, But we'll be going to Corellia-and I'll do
what I can to act suspiciously. I have a feeling it will fit in with my natural talents."
"Officially, I'm glad to hear that," Kalnda said. "But unofficially-very unofficially-I wouldn't blame you if
you decided not to go at all."
"We go," Han said. "We're not going to be scared away from living our life."
"Just like that?" Kalenda asked. "Without even asking any questions? The NRI doesn't have much
information, but shouldn't you know what we do?"
Chewie let out a low, throaty rumble, the Wookiee equivalent of a chuckle, and then growled a retort.
"What9" Kalenda asked. "What's funny? What did he say?"
Han smiled, even if the joke was more or less at his expense. "Something to the effect that I've never
been one to let facts or information interfere with my decisions. But in all seriousness, it might just be that
the less I know the better. If you want me to blunder around like an ignorant fool, maybe I'd do better if!
was ignorant."
"We half expected you to say that," Kalenda said.
"If you know me that well, then the next thing you should be expecting me to say is that it's dinnertime
and the family's waiting." Kalenda stood up. "Very well." She turned toward Chewbacca, who was still
blocking the entrance. "If your -` friend will excuse me?" she asked, staring straight at Chewie. The
Wookiee gave a sort of snort and let her by.
After she was gone, Chewie looked toward Han. "I know, I know," he said. "You're going to say it's
none of my business. But our agents are vanishing on my turf.
Is that my people doing that? She said something is going wrong in the Corellian Sector, my home sector.
Should I just turn my back? You tell me. What should I have said?"
Chewie didn't have an answer for that one. Instead he behind him to help him power down the ship.
grunted and turned back toward the cockpit. Han followed But the Wookiee stopped dead just inside
the to the cockpit, and Han nearly waIked up his back. he cried out. "What are youChewie moved his
left arm slowly back until it was behind his back. He gestured for silence with a wave his left hand as he
stared straight ahead, out the cockpit 5 viewport. Han froze, and tried to see around Chewbacca's
looming bulk. He saw nothing, but that told him as much as he needed to know. A probe droid or a living
snooper.
Chewie had spotted something, some tiny movement or other. Nothing else would explain his reaction.
"What-what are we going to do about the shields?"
Han asked, trying to make it sound smooth and convincing.
Chewbacca took the cue, and growled a casual-sounding answer as he plopped down into the copilot's
seat. Han followed Chewie's gaze as the Wookiee scanned his panels.
Han saw Chewie's eyes flicker toward the packing cases at the edge of the hard stand for just a moment.
All right, then.
Han sat down in the pilot's seat and tried to think fast.
Someone or something had been listening in on their little chat with Kalenda. The fact that the snooper
was still out there could only mean they were hoping to hear more.
Otherwise, the snooper would have pulled back the moment Kalenda was gone.
And that meant the only chance of catching the snooper would be to keep him or her or it busy until
Chewie and he had managed to set something up. Better do something to sound interesting. "That sounds
good on the repulsor," Han said. "But if our visitor was right, hardware glitches are going to be the least
of our troubles." Chewbacca looked toward Han in some surprise. `Oh, yeah," Han said, improvising as
best he could. "With what she was saying, we're going to have a lot to talk about on the way home. Lots
of profits in it for us if we play it right." That ought to be intriguing enough to keep their friends interested.
Han gestured with his hands, being careful to keep them well out of view of the cockpit ports. He pointed
toward himself, and waggled his first two fingers back and forth in a pantomime of walking.
He pointed toward the outside of the ship, and then pantomimed pulling a trigger.
Chewie nodded very slightly, then pointed at himself, pointed down, indicating he would stay where he
was, and then tapped the controls for the ventral laser cannon. Chewbacca burbled his agreement on the
subject of profit and nodded a bit more emphatically for the benefit of whoever was outside.
"Listen," Han said. "You finish up the power-down, all right? I want to go take a look at the rear landing
pads and see if they took any damage." Chewie nodded. Han slipped his left hand under the pilot's chair
and pulled out the small holdout blaster that he kept there. It wasn't the most powerful bit of armament,
but it was small enough to hide in the palm of his hand.
Han got up and headed toward the hatch. He made his way toward the open gangway, moving at what
he hoped was a nice, casual pace. If he and Chewie were better actors than he thought they were, or if
their snooper was a bit more gullible than average, they would still have company.
He walked down the gangway, whistling tunelessly to himself, and paused at the bottom. He yawned and
stretched in what he hoped was a convincing sort of way. He wandered over toward the port side of the
ship, as if he was about to head around and look at the aft landing pad.
By doing so, he came around the side of the heap of packing cases.
Anything or anyone hiding behind them would have to drift back a bit, back into the corner, in order to
stay out of sight. Han swung his left hand around so his body hid it from view, and got the holdout blaster
into position. He continued his leisurely walk toward the rear of the ship and then suddenly shifted
direction, started running straight toward the pecking cases, moving as fast as he could, blaster at the
ready.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the ventral laser cannon pep out of its recess and blaze away.
The cannon swept along the cases from starboard to port, herding their visitor toward Han. The cases
blew apart under the withering fire, lighting up the hard stand.
And suddenly, in the flashing strobelike bursts of the laser cannon, it was bright enough for Han to see the
thing he was chasing.
A probe droid, an old-style Imperial probot, floated in midair not ten meters from him, its eight
cruel-looking sensor arms hanging down from its rounded central body. The laser cannon stopped firing
and darkness returned. No doubt Chewie didn't want to risk shooting Han. Thoughtful of him.
Even without the laser fire, the packing cases were burning bright enough for Han to see his adversary.
But if Han could see the probe droid, the probe droid could see him.
One of its arms swung around, aiming a built-in blaster dead at him.
Han fired without taking the time for conscious thought, and thanks either to luck or marksmanship he
shot the blaster off the droid.
But the loss of its blaster didn't even slow the droid down. It brought another arm to bear, one with a
cruel, needle-sharp end, and moved toward Han at speed. Han dove for the ground and rolled over on
his back as it bore down on him, that needle arm reaching to skewer him through the chest. The arm
jabbed down, and Han rolled out of the way just barely in time. The needle arm spiked into the
permacrete and jammed there for a moment.
Han fired up at the droid, but it must have been luck on the first shot, because this time he missed
completely. He squeezed the trigger again and nothing happened. The holdout blaster's tiny energy cell
had been depleted with only two shots. Han scrambled to his feet and realized he was boxed in by the
sound barrier wall of the hard stand. The droid pulled its needle arm up out of the permacrete, and then
turned back toward Han, ready to move in for the kill.
A single shot from the Falcon's laser cannon flared out, and caught the droid square in the body. The
ghastly thing crashed to the ground, and Han started breathing again.
Chewie came running up a moment later, carrying a glow rod. He pointed at the droid as he looked at
Han and let out a complicated series of snarls and burbling roars.
"I can see that," Han said. "Imperial probe droid.
Twenty years old at least. Someone dug it up from somewhere and reprogrammed it." Chewie knelt
down by the droid and shone the light on it. He glanced up toward Han and yelped a question.
"Because that's not the way the Imperials programmed the things. They weren't supposed to fight, they
were supposed to spy. If they got caught and couldn't run, they transmitted their data on a tight beam and
self-destructed.
This one tried to shoot its way out. And don't ask me what that tells us, because I don't know.
Except he did know, at least in part. It told him that someone out there was playing for keeps. What the
game was, or who the players were, Han had not the slightesi idea. But it had to be Corellia. It had to be.
Han stared at the dead machine by the light of the burnin1 packing cases, and wondered what to do
about the probe' carcass. The fact that it had been here at this particular time and place had some
unpleasant connotations. If the NRI' agents were being followed, he certainly wasn't going t( rush to them
and report this little incident. No. Best keep it as quiet as possible. "No one hears about this," said. "Not
the NRI, not Luke, not Leia. Nothing they could do about it except get upset, and there might be other
listeners out there. We get rid of this thing, fast, clean up the mess, and that's that." Chewbacca looked at
Han and nodded his agreement.
Han knelt down next to the Wookiee and started trying to figure out how to get rid of the probe. Later he
could worry about the other trifling problems, such as the question of who had sent the thing and why.
It occurred to Han that he really only knew two things for certain.
First, he knew that if someone out there was trying to make him not want to head for Corellia, they were
going about it the wrong way. Spies and vague threats and droids might intimidate other men, but Han
never had been much for responding to intimidation.
And second, he knew it was going to be an interesting trip.
CHAPTER TWO Breakage and Rep airs aina Solo squatted down next to her younger brother and
handed him one of the circuit boards. "Come on, Anakin. You can figure it out. You can make it work."
Anakin Solo, all of seven and a half years old, sat on the floor of the playroom, surrounded by broken
bits of droid and rather worn-looking circuit units.
Jacen, Jaina's twin brother, had done most of the scavenging for parts, digging through the discard bins
and refuse parts of all the droid repair shops and part suppliers. Jaina had done most of the mechanical
assembly work, but now it was up to Anakin. All three of them were good with their hands, gifted in
mechanical things-but Anakin went beyond merely being gifted. .
He could fix things so they worked-even if he didn't know what they did, or what they were. It was
almost as if he could see inside machines, read the circuit patterns of even the tiniest microscopic
components-and even tempt the broken circuits to heal themselves. Outsiders would have thought it all
very remarkable, and perhaps even impossible.
But the twins were used to it. To them, all it meant was that Anakin could tap into a different aspect of
the Force than most people.
Or maybe he didn't know yet that what he did was impossible. If and when the grown-ups found out and
convinced him that he could not do what he did, then perhaps the game would be over.
For now, a little brother who could make machinery and computers sit up and beg was a most useful
asset. In the past, the twins had set him to work on all sorts of jobs when they went exploring the parts of
the Imperial Palace they weren't supposed to see. He had opened foolproof locks for them, made
摘要：

StarWars-AmbushAtCorelliabyRogerMacBrideAllen"Allright,Chewie,tryitnow,"HanSolostuffedthecomlinkbackinhispocketandsteppedbackabitfromtheMillenniumFalcon,ananxiouslookonhisface.Itoughttoworkthistime.Butthatwaswhattheyhadfiguredthetimebefore,andthetimebeforethat.HecouldseeintotheFalcon'scockpitviewpor...

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