The Unifying Force by James Luceno Read Free Book Online Page B

which was flying just off the blunt tip of the starboard docking arm. Hoping to minimize the chances of the pilot’s overshooting his mark and smashing headlong into the bulkhead at the top of the ramp, Han adjusted the
Falcon
’s forward speed to match that of the swoop.
    “He’s accelerating!” Leia said.
    “Threepio! Meewalh!” Han yelled over his right shoulder. “Our guest’s coming aboard!” Glancing out the right side of the viewport, he saw the Jenet leap the swoop toward the ramp—the
Falcon
’s narrow but open mouth.
    “Now!” he told Leia.
    Deftly she fed power to the attitude thrusters, allowing the ship to complete a full clockwise rotation, even as a series of crashing sounds were echoing their way into the cockpit from the ring corridor.
    Han winced and scrunched his shoulders with each
clang!
and
crash!
, mentally assessing the damage, but keeping his fingers crossed that the Jenet pilot was faring better than the interior of the docking arm.
    No sooner did the ramp telltale on the console flash red—indicating that the docking arm had sealed tight—than Han yanked back on the control yoke, and the
Falcon
clawed its way into Selvaris’s open sky, dodging volleys of molten firefrom pursuing coralskippers. The quad laser replied with packets of cohesive light, brilliant green even against the backdrop of the heaving sea.
    “Captain Solo, he’s alive!” C-3PO called with dramatic relief. “We’re all alive!”
    Exhaling slowly, Han sank back into the seat, but without lifting his hands from the yoke. The coralskippers were already lagging behind when the
Falcon
rocketed over the summit of the volcano, straight through dense clouds of gritty smoke, climbing rapidly on a column of blue energy. The ship was halfway to starlight when the shaken Jenet appeared at the cockpit hatchway, one bare arm drapped over Meewalh’s shoulders, the other around C-3PO’s.
    “You must have a hard head,” Han said.
    Grinning faintly, Leia looked at her husband. “He’s not the only one.”
    Han glanced at her in false chagrin, then nodded his chin to the female Noghri. “Take our guest to the forward cabin and provide him with whatever he needs.”
    “I’ll get the medpac,” Leia said, leaving her chair. She set her headset on the console and looked at Han again. “Well, you did it.”
    “We,”
Han amended. Casually, he stretched out his arms. “You know, you’re never too old for this sort of thing.”
    “You haven’t outgrown it, that’s for sure.”
    He studied her. “What, you have?”
    She placed her right hand on his cheek. “You’re a danger to yourself and everyone around you. But I do love you, Han.”
    He smiled broadly as Leia hurried from the cockpit.

FOUR
    In a leafy bower that supplied the only pool of shade in the prison yard, Yuuzhan Vong commander Malik Carr permitted himself to be fanned by two reptoid Chazrach whose coral seed implants bulged from their foreheads.
    Exceedingly tall, and thinner than most of his peers, Carr wore a bone-white skirt and patterned headcloth, the tassels of which were braided into his long hair, forming a tail that reached his waist. His glory days as a warrior were evidenced by the tattoos and scarifications that adorned his face and torso, though the most recent of them revealed for all to see that he had once held a more lofty rank. Even so, the prison guards were unfailing in the deference they showed him, out of respect for his steadfast devotion to the warrior caste, and to Yun-Yammka, the god of war.
    Moving briskly and in anger, Subaltern S’yito approached the bower and snapped his fists to the opposite shoulders in salute. “Commander, the prisoners are awakening.”
    Carr looked over to the center of the yard, where Major Cracken, Captain Page, and some fifty other officers sat on their haunches, their hands secured behind them to wooden stakes that had been driven into the soft ground. Indeed, eyelids were fluttering; heads were