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  He was in an unmarked modified light freighter--why would the TIE fighters

  come out shooting at them in the first place? Was it the New Republic ID

  beacon? What was going on at Kessel? Leia sat around thinking about details

  like that, analyzing the possibilities, and coming up with scenarios. With

  her tremendous load of diplomatic duties, she was becoming more and more of

  a thinker each day, trying to solve things by committee and negotiation. But

  a political solution wouldn't work if an Imperial TIE fighter came in

  shooting at you.

  Another ship soared up from behind as they chased the TIE fighter toward

  Kessel. Han shot off a few bursts from his laser, but they all missed; then

  he turned his attention to the ship tailing them. The Falcon had no

  operational shields back there. Chewbacca called out again from below; then

  Han got his second surprise for the day. "I see it, I see it!"

  An X-wing fighter approached from the rear, slowly gaining on the Falcon as

  they neared Kessel. Han took another potshot at the TIE fighter. Even from

  this distance the X-wing fighter seemed old and battered, as if it had been

  repaired many times.

  "Chewie, contact the X-wing and tell him we'd appreciate whatever help he

  can give us." Han pressed his back against the firing chair and focused his

  attention on his target.

  The fleeing TIE fighter soared into the wispy tail of atmosphere behind the

  planet. Han could see a bright pathway as the speed of the ship ionized the

  gas. Then the X-wing fired on the Falcon from behind. The lasers scored a

  direct hit, incinerating the protruding sensor dish mounted on the top of

  the ship.

  Han and Chewie shouted at each other, scrambling to figure what to do.

  Chewbacca took the Falcon into a tight dive closer to the atmosphere of

  Kessel. "Turn us around! Turn us around!" They had to get their unprotected

  aft section out of the X-wing's line of fire.

  The X-wing shot again, burning metal on the hull of the Falcon. All the

  lights went out inside the ship. From the lurch of the cabin Han knew the

  hit had been a bad one. He could already smell something burning below

  decks. Emergency lights clicked on.

  "We've got to get out of here!"

  Chewbacca barked the Wookiee equivalent of "no kidding."

  They ducked into the atmospheric tail, buffeted by the suddenly dense gas

  particles pelting the ship. Around them streamers of heated gas glowed

  orange and blue. The X-wing came in from behind, still firing.

  Han's mind raced. They could skim around Kessel in a tight orbit, then

  slingshot back out of the system. With the black hole cluster so close at

  hand, no one would risk jumping into hyperspace without intensive prior

  calculations, and neither he nor Chewie could spare the time to do them.

  With the Falcon's sensor dish slagged, Han couldn't even send out a distress

  call or try to sweet-talk the traitorous commander of the X-wing. He

  couldn't even surrender! Talk about being stuck. "Chewie, if you have any

  suggestions--'' He stopped talking as his mouth dropped open.

  As they swept around Kessel, Han detected wave after wave of fighter ships

  launching from the garrison moon, raising a defensive curtain the Millennium

  Falcon would never be able to cross.

  He saw hundreds of ships of every size and make imaginable, salvaged

  warships and stolen pleasure cruisers. Reaching the safety of numbers, the

  second TIE fighter did another tight loop to join the rest of the group. And

  they all came in shooting with a blur of turbolaser bolts that looked like a

  fireworks display. Despite the motley appearance of the Kessel fleet, Han's

  sensors showed that their weapons worked just fine. The attacking X-wing

  scored a direct hit. The cabin shook.

  The Falcon took a turn upward as Chewbacca tried to flee the oncoming wave

  of ships. Han sent a barrage of laser fire into the cluster and was

  gratified to see the engine pod of a small Z-95 Headhunter fighter burst

  into flames. The snub fighter dropped out of the attacking fleet and wobbled

  toward Kessel's atmosphere. Han hoped it would crash.

  Seeing that it would serve no purpose to keep firing against overwhelming

  odds, Han dropped back down the access shaft of the gun turret to the

  cockpit to see what he could do to assist Chewbacca.

  Then the fleet of ships began pummeling them.

  The X-wing fired again, scoring a second direct hit. A firestorm of laser

  blasts struck their forward deflector shields. Chewie slewed the Falcon from

  side to side in a futile evasive maneuver. Han settled himself into the

  other pilot's chair just in time to see the indicator lights for the forward

  shields wink out. They were now unprotected from the front and from behind.

  Another hit rocked them, and Han's chest smacked against the control panel.

  "There goes the main drive unit. We're space-meat in the next barrage. Take

  us down, Chewie. Get us into the atmosphere. It's the only thing we can do."

  Chewbacca started to express his disbelief, but Han grabbed the controls and

  sent them lurching down toward Kessel. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride. Hold on

  to your fur."

  The swarm of attacking ships whirled in space as the Falcon plowed into the

  white atmosphere of Kessel. Han grabbed his seat as the ship struck the

  clouds. He suddenly felt the buffeting winds caused by gouts of air escaping

  into space. From his control panels and the stench leaking from the back

  compartments, Han knew that his maneuvering capabilities would be minimal.

  By the groaning sounds from his copilot, he knew the Wookiee had realized

  the same thing.

  "Think of it this way, Chewie. If we land this thing in one piece, our skill

  as pilots will be legendary from one end of the galaxy to the other!" Han

  said with a humor he did not feel. 'I knew I shouldn't have come back to

  Kessel.''

  The Falcon was going down. Both Han and Chewbacca fought to keep a steady

  downward course that would not burn them up in the insubstantial atmosphere.

  Kessel's main defensive fleet swept into orbit and prepared for an orderly

  descent. One sleek, insectile ship, which Han recognized as a

  black-market-built Hornet Interceptor, peeled off, streaking downward in the

  Falcon's backdraft.

  Chewbacca saw it first. The ship, aerodynamically perfect, slid through the

  atmosphere like a vibroblade, ignoring the heat generated on its hull. The

  ship fired surgical strikes of turbolasers at the Falcon's maneuvering jets,

  disabling them further.

  "We're already crashing!" Han bellowed. "What more do they want?" But he

  knew: they wanted the Falcon to be destroyed on impact, all occupants

  erased. Han suspected he didn't need any help from the Hornet Interceptor.

  As they plunged downward, the Falcon approached one of the giant atmosphere

  factories, a huge smokestack mounted on the surface of Kessel, where immense

  engines catalyzed the rock and cooked out gases into a cyclone of breathable

  air.

  The Hornet Interceptor fired again. The Falcon lurched from a near miss.

  Chewbacca's face was grim. His fangs showed as he concentrated on keeping<
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  them alive.

  "Chewie, pull as close to the plume as you can. I've got an idea." Chewbacca

  yowled, but Han cut him off. "Just do it, buddy!"

  When the Hornet tried to outflank them, Han swept the ship aside as the

  towering plume of atmosphere boiled into the sky. The Hornet Interceptor

  tried to second-guess his move, but Han lurched sideways again, driving the

  Hornet into the roaring upward flow of wind.

  An aileron strut in the delicate insectile wing snapped off, and the Hornet

  spun into the cyclone. Other parts of its hull broke apart as the ship tried

  to escape but lurched deeper into the danger zone. Han gave a cry of triumph

  as the ship exploded into flames that were pulled to tatters by the

  atmosphere factory's vortex.

  Then the surface of Kessel rushed up at them like a gigantic hammer.

  Han fought with the controls. "At least we'll have a soft landing with the

  new repulsorlifts we installed," he said. He grabbed at the panel, priming

  the controls. Chewbacca barked at him to hurry. Han activated the

  repulsorlifts as he simultaneously heaved a sigh of relief.

  Nothing.

  "What?" He slammed his fingers on the switch again and again, but the

  repulsorlifts refused to operate. "I just had those fixed!" Han yelled above

  the noise of screaming wind as he fought to bring the Falcon under some

  semblance of control. "Okay, Chewie, I am definitely open for suggestions!"

  But Chewbacca had no time to answer before the ship crashed into the rugged

  surface of Kessel.

  The towers of Imperial City rose to the sky, high above the shadowed surface

  of the planet Coruscant. The cornerstones of the towers had been in place

  for more than a thousand generations, dating back to the formative days of

  the Old Republic. Over the millennia higher and higher structures had been

  built on top of the ruined foundations.

  Luke Skywalker stepped onto a shuttle-landing platform that jutted out from

  the scarred, monolithic face of the former Imperial Palace. Gusts of wind

  whipped around him, and he pulled back the hood of his Jedi robe.

  He looked into the sky, pondering the thin layer of atmosphere that

  protected Coruscant from space beyond. Wrecked ships still rode in haphazard

  orbits, debris from the vicious battles when the Alliance had recently

  recaptured the planet from Imperial control during civil war in the remnants

  of the Empire.

  Higher than the tops of the towers, kite-like hawk-bats rode thermal

  currents rising from the canyons of the city. As he watched, one hawk-bat

  swooped down, down, into the dark crevasses between ancient buildings,

  finally emerging a moment later with something cylindrical and dripping--a

  granite slug, perhaps--in its claws.

  Luke bided his time, using a Jedi meditation technique to quell the anxiety

  inside him. As a younger man he had been fidgety and impatient, filled with

  uncertainty. But Yoda had taught him patience, along with so many other

  things. A true Jedi Knight could wait as long as necessary.

  The New Republic Senate had been in session for only an hour, and they would

  still be working on mundane issues. Luke wanted to startle them after they

  had been talking for a while.

  The immense metropolis of Imperial City bustled around him, little changed

  now that it was the seat of the New Republic instead of the Empire; prior to

  that it had been capital of the Old Republic. The capitol building, formerly

  Emperor Palpatine's palace, was made of polished gray-green rock and

  mirrored crystals, sparkling in the hazy sunlight of Coruscant as it towered

  over all other structures, even the adjoining Senate building.

  Much of Imperial City had been laid waste during the months of civil war

  following the downfall of Grand Admiral Thrawn. The various factions of the

  old Empire had fought over the Emperor's home world, turning vast districts

  into graveyards of crashed ships and exploded buildings.

  But the tide of battle had turned, and the New Republic had driven back the

  vestiges of the Empire. Many Alliance soldiers now turned their efforts to

  repairing the damage, his friend Wedge Antilles among them. Top priority had

  been given to rebuilding the former Imperial Palace and the Senate chambers.

  The Emperor's own construction droids ranged through the battle-scarred

  wastelands, automatically scraping up raw materials from the wreckage for

  conversion into new buildings.

  In the distance Luke could see one of the enormous droids, forty stories

  tall, wrecking a half-collapsed building shell and plowing a path where its

  programming had deemed a new elevated transport path should be routed. Its

  girder arms toppled the stone face of the building, pulling free metal

  support structures and feeding the debris into a processing mouth where the

  materials would be separated and new components extruded.

  During the previous year of violent strife, Luke had been whisked away to

  the resurrected Emperor's stronghold in the galactic core, and there he had

  allowed himself to learn the dark side.

  He had become the Emperor's chief lieutenant, just like his father, Darth

  Vader. The struggle had been great within him, and only with the help, and

  the friendship, and the love of Leia and Han had he been able to break free.

  ...

  Luke saw a diplomatic shuttle dropping down from orbit with its locator

  lights rippling in a complex sequence. Its jets turned off with a whining

  sound as it coasted toward a landing pad on the far side of the palace.

  Luke Skywalker had been through the fire now.

  Inside, his heart seemed a diamond-hard lump. He wasn't merely another Jedi

  Knight--he was the only remaining Jedi Master. He had survived tests and

  rigors more potent than routine Jedi training prepared him for. Luke

  understood more about the Force now than he had ever dreamed possible.

  Sometimes it terrified him.

  He thought of the days when he had been idealistic and adventuresome, riding

  the Millennium Falcon and dueling blindly with a practice remote as Ben

  Kenobi watched. Luke remembered also the skepticism he had felt as he

  swooped down upon the first Death Star during the Battle of Yavin, trying to

  locate a tiny thermal-exhaust port; Ben's voice had spoken to him then,

  telling him to trust in the Force.

  Luke understood much more now, especially why the old man's eyes had held

  such a haunted look.

  Another hawk-bat swooped down into the dark maze of the lower levels of

  buildings, flapping its wings as it climbed back up, holding a squirming

  prize in its claws. As Luke watched, a second hawk-bat dove in on an

  intercept course, grabbing the prey out of the first's grasp. Far away, he

  could hear their cawing sounds as they slashed and tore at each other. The

  squirming prey, no longer heeded, fell through the air, buffeted by rising

  currents, until it struck ground somewhere in the alley dimness. The two

  hawk-bats, locked in mortal combat, also fell as they struggled with each

  other, until they too smashed into an outcropping of the abandoned lower

  levels.

  A troubled expression crossed Luke's
face. An omen? He was about to address

  the New Republic Senate. The time had come. He turned and walked back inside

  the cool corridors, pulling his robe tightly around himself.

  Luke stood at the entrance to the Senate assembly chamber. The room swept

  down to a giant amphitheater in which sat the inner circle of appointed

  senators and outer rows of representatives from different planets, different

  alien races. Realtime holos of the proceedings would be broadcast around

  Imperial City and recorded for transmission to other planets.

  Sunlight filtered through the fragmented crystal segments in the ceiling

  high overhead, fanning out the spectrum in a rainbow effect over the most

  important people at the center of the room, scintillating around them as

  they moved--designed, Luke knew, by the Emperor himself to strike awe into

  those observing him.

  As she spoke now on the central dais, Mon Mothma, the New Republic's Chief

  of State, seemed uncomfortable in the grandeur of the assembly chamber. Luke

  allowed a smile to cross his face as he remembered the first time he had

  seen Mon Mothma describing the plans of the second Death Star as the Rebels

  approached Endor.

  With her short reddish hair and soft voice, Mon Mothma did not look like a

  tough-as-nails military commander. As a former member of the Imperial

  Senate, Mon Mothma seemed to be more in her element now, trying to forge the

  pieces of the New Republic into a strong, unified government.

  Beside Mon Mothma sat Luke's sister Leia Organa Solo, straight-backed and

  listening to every moment of the proceedings. Leia had been performing more