Timothy Zahn - Survivor's Quest

For a moment she just hung there, catching her breath and stretching out to the Force to draw renewed strength into her muscles. The column's texture was rough enough for a good grip and, like the wall panels, seemed perfectly capable of handling her weight. Getting a grip on the lower part of the column with her knees, she started up.

The going wasn't particularly easy, but the thought of some Chiss wandering in and catching her hanging up here like an oversized mynock added motivation to the climb. Halfway up, she reached another column and switched to a back-and-feet chimney-style ascent. Reaching the top, she grabbed on to one of the flaglike ceiling sections that was now hanging straight down. Using it as a pivot point, she swung over to a column hanging down in the corner.

And with that, she finally had a close-up view of the rogue cable.

She squinted at it, wishing she'd thought to bring a light. The room itself was well lit, but the end where the cable had been reattached to its connector was inconveniently lying in shadow from the ceiling column she was hanging on to.

Still, a Jedi was never entirely without resources. Looking awkwardly over her shoulder toward her waist, she reached out through the Force and unhooked her lightsaber from her belt. Levitating it carefully, she maneuvered it over to the corner, turning the handle over so that the blade would be pointing safely downward. Then, eyeing the stud, she ignited it.

The snap-hiss somehow sounded louder than usual in the corner of a quiet room. The lightsaber didn't put out all that much light, but it was enough.

The cable had not, in fact, been cut, which had been her first suspicion. On the other hand, the connection appeared to be a double screw-type linkage, which was almost impossible for vibration or tension to work loose.

So how had it come apart?

Moving the lightsaber as close to the connection as she could without risking damage, she peered at it. On the side of the cable, just above the connector, was a slight indentation. Lifting her gaze to the ceiling itself, she spotted a small round opening above and to the right of the groove.

Adjusting her grip on the column, she freed one hand and gingerly extended a finger into the opening. Nothing. She moved the finger around in a circle inside the opening, searching for the machinery or electronic connectors or heat radiator vanes that should naturally be behind any opening on a ship.

Or rather, the equipment that should be behind any opening that was part of a ship's actual design. The lack of anything up there strongly implied that this particular hole had been put in as an afterthought.

She was still working through the possibilities when a flicker of sensation touched her mind.

Instantly, she closed down the lightsaber, shutting off its gentle hum. In the sudden silence, she could hear footsteps coming her way. Several sets, by the sound, but in too close a step to be Chiss on a casual stroll around the ship. This group was definitely military.

And here she was, trapped in a compromising position six meters in midair.

She looked around her, biting back an old curse from her days with the Empire. The column she was hanging on to was the only cover anywhere within reach. Problem was, she was hanging on the wrong side of it, in full view of the room below. She would have to work her way around to the wall side if she was going to have any chance of concealment; and from the speed those footsteps were approaching, she wasn't likely to have enough time.

Reaching out her free hand, she grabbed her lightsaber and reestablished a firm two-armed, two-kneed grip on the column. Then, moving as quickly as she could, she started maneuvering herself around toward the far side.

She was almost halfway around when the intruders marched in beneath the archway. She froze in place, shifting her gaze downward to look.

As she did so, her heart seemed to turn to stone.

Those weren't Chiss soldiers, sent by General Drask to hunt her down. They weren't even Chiss soldiers on routine patrol, searching for suspicious activities.

There were five figures below her, standing just inside the reception room in a loose box formation. The one in the center was a human male, young looking, wearing a gray Imperial uniform modified with rings of red and black trim on the collar and cuffs.

The other four were Imperial stormtroopers.

Mara stared down at the stormtroopers, a sudden flood of memories whipping around her like stones and debris in a hurricane-strength wind. She'd worked with stormtroopers many times through the years she served Palpatine as his Emperor's Hand. She'd ordered them to do her bidding; occasionally, she'd led small groups of them on special missions.

She'd stood by and watched as they killed.

It was impossible. It had to be. The elite cadre of stormtroopers was all but extinct, wiped out in the long war against the Empire. Most of the cloning tanks used to create them so many years ago were gone, too, tracked down and destroyed so that no one else would ever again unleash such a terrible wave of death and destruction upon the galaxy.

And yet, there they were. It wasn't an illusion, or a fraud, or a twisting of her own memories. They stood like stormtroopers, they held their BlasTech E-11 blaster rifles like stormtroopers, they wore stormtrooper armor.

The stormtroopers were back.

The young Imperial was looking around the room, his hand resting on the belted DH-17 blaster pistol riding his hip. One of the stormtroopers murmured something, and he looked up. "Ah," he called. His voice sounded young, too. "There you are, Jedi Skywalker. Are you all right?"

With a supreme effort, Mara found her voice. "Sure," she called back. "No problem. Why?"

He seemed a bit taken aback. "We heard the sound of a lightsaber being activated," he said. "With a Jedi, that usually means there's trouble."

"Trouble for whom?" Mara asked pointedly.

"Just trouble in general." The Imperial seemed better on balance now. "Do you need any help getting down from there?"

"Who said I wanted to come down?" Mara countered.

He snorted under his breath, and Mara caught a hint of annoyance. "Fine," he said. "Have it your way. I just thought you might be interested in talking, that's all."

"About...?"

"About what you're doing up there, for starters," the young man said. "Maybe we could discuss this whole crazy mission, too."

She frowned, stretching out with the Force. It was hard to read a stranger, especially at this distance. But as near as she could tell he seemed sincere.

Though she'd concluded the same thing about Jinzler, and had already decided how much simple sincerity was worth.

Still, if these Imperials were out to kill her, the simplest time to try it had already passed. And if she and they were on the same side, comparing cards might not be a bad idea. "Fine," she said. "I was mostly done anyway."

"You need any help?"

"No, thanks," Mara said, setting her teeth as it occurred to her that there was perhaps one more tactical advantage he was waiting for before ordering his stormtroopers to open fire. Time for a small calculated risk. "On second thought, you can hold my lightsaber for me. Here—catch."

She tossed it toward him. The young man stepped forward and deftly caught it.

There was no shout of triumph as he held her only defensive weapon in his hand. More importantly, none of the stormtroopers raised his BlasTech and started shooting.

She started breathing again. So they really didn't mean any mischief. At least, not yet. "Okay," she called. "Stand clear."

She shifted her gaze to the control panel in the corridor behind them and stretched out with the Force, activating one of the buttons.