The Crystal Star (4 page)

done!" Luke spoke in a tone of distress, not anger. The fundamental loneliness of the young Jedi struck

Han deeply.

"I don't know what other Jedi Knights did," Luke said softly. "I didn't know Ben long enough, and the

Empire destroyed so many records, and... I just don't know." Han wished Luke could find someone to

share his life and his work. Han's marriage to Leia grew and strengthened with each year, with each day.

As his own years of happiness continued, Han was increasingly troubled by his brother-in-law's solitude.

"Take it easy, Luke," Han said.

"Take it easy. You're doing great--" "But the traditions--" "So if you have to make them up as you go

along, that's not so bad, is it?" Han asked. "We always were pretty good at bluff+. In the old days." "In

the old days." Luke sounded glum.

"And who knows what we'll find when we get where we're going? Maybe some more Jedi Knights to

help with the school." "Maybe," Luke said. "I hope so." The Millennium Falcon swept out of hyperspace,

diving through streamers of light into normal space.

The alarms shrieked and the radiation shields snapped into existence around the Falcon.

Han swore. He had expected a heavy radiation flux in this region--he had outfitted the Falcon to

withstand it--but nothing as powerful as the X-ray storms raging around them.

When he had checked the ship's systems to make sure none were damaged, Han took a moment to look

outside. He whistled softly in awe.

A dense, brilliant starfield spread all around his ship. Two star clusters collided: Bands of red giant stars,

like veins of glowing blood, meandered through regions of white dwarf stars. The stars clustered so

closely that they formed one huge chaotic system, spinning around each other, pulling each other into

different dances, one snatching star-stuff from the surface of another.

Chaos reigned in the impossible circle-dance of stars; no one could predict the changes each star's

pattern would take--if anyone could find a pattern to start with. Soon, measuring by astronomical time,

the cluster's stars would fly off in all directions. Or perhaps the whole cluster would collapse in upon

itself. It would squeeze its mass into the size of a planet, a moon, a fist, a pinprick. And then it would

vanish.

"If I may be so bold..." See-Threepio said. "Despite the extra shielding I can feel X rays penetrating my

outer shell, all the way to my synapses. I can hardly imagine what they might do to your more delicate

biological structure. Crseih Research Station was constructed to withstand this assault.

Might I suggest that we get beneath the spaceport's shielding as soon as possible?" As if to punctuate

See-Threepio's comment, a bright flash of light with no apparent source streaked across Han's vision; he

recognized it as a cosmic ray traveling across his retina.

"Good thinking, Threepio," he said.

He laid a course for the Crseih Research Station.

Han piloted the Millennium Falcon through the strangest star system he had ever approached. An ancient,

dying, crystallizing white dwarf star orbited a black hole in a wildly eccentric elliptical path.

Eons ago, in this place, a small and ordinary yellow star peacefully orbited an immense blue-white

supergiant. The blue star aged, and collapsed.

The blue star went supernova, blasting light and radiation and debris out into space.

Its light still traveled through the universe, a furious explosion visible from distant galaxies.

Over time, the remains of the supergiant's core collapsed under the force of its own gravity.

The result was degenerate mass: a black hole.

The violence of the supernova disrupted the orbit of the nova's companion, the yellow star. Over time,

the yellow star's orbit decayed.

The yellow star fell toward the unimaginably dense body of the black hole. The black hole sucked up

anything, even light, that came within its grasp. And when it captured matter--even an entire yellow

star--it ripped the atoms apart into a glowing accretion disk. Subatomic particles imploded downward

into the singularity's equator, emitting great bursts of radiation. The accretion disk spun at a fantastic

speed, glowing with fantastic heat, creating a funeral pyre for the destroyed yellow companion.

The plasma spiraled in a raging pinwheel, circling so fast and heating so intensely that it blasted X rays out

into space. Then, finally, the glowing gas fell toward the invisible black hole, approaching it closer and

closer, appearing to fall more and more slowly as relativity influenced it.

It was lost forever to this universe.

That was the fate of the small yellow star.

The system contained a third star: the dying white dwarf, which shone with ancient heat even as it froze

into a quantum crystal. Now, as the Millennium Falcon entered the system, the white dwarf was falling

toward the black hole, on the inward curve of its eccentric elliptical orbit.

"Will you look at that," Han said. "Quite a show." "Indeed it is, Master Han," Threepio said, "but it is

merely a shadow of what will occur when the black hole captures the crystal star." Luke gazed silently

into the maelstrom of the black hole.

Han waited.

"Hey, kid! Snap out of it." Luke started. "What?" "I don't know where you were, but you weren't here."

"Just thinking about the Jedi Academy. I hate to leave my students, even for a few days. But if I do find

other trained Jedi, it'll make a big difference. To the Academy. To the New Republic..." "I think we're

getting along pretty well already," Han said, irked. He had spent years maintaining the peace with

ordinary people. In his opinion, Jedi Knights could cause more trouble than they were worth. "And what

if these are all using the dark side?" Luke did not reply.

Han seldom admitted his nightmares, but he had nightmares about what could happen to his children if

they were tempted to the dark side.

Right now they were safe, with Leia on a planetary tour of remote and peaceful worlds of the New

Republic. By this time they must have reached Munto Codru. They would be visiting the beautiful

mountains of the world's temperate zone.

Han smiled, imagining his princess and his children being welcomed to one of Munto Codru's mysterious,

ancient, fairy-tale castles.

Solar prominences flared from the white dwarf's surface. The Falcon passed it, heading toward the more

perilous region of the black hole.

Han set the shields as high as they would go, and sped through the dangerous radiation. The accretion

disk blazed wildly, its light harsh and actinic.

Neither white dwarf nor black hole possessed natural planets, only a few bits of distant debris and a halo

of frozen comets. But the white dwarf did possess one artificial planetoid.

Crseih Station had been a secret Empire research facility. During the rule of the Emperor, it had moved

from covert place to hidden location to secret destination. Wherever it went, it carried with it a reputation

of evil.

Most of the records of its work had been destroyed when the Empire fell. Its researchers had fled, to

surrender to the New Republic or to disappear. Han knew only one thing about Crseih for certain. It had

been sent to this star system to adapt the destructive power of the black hole to the martial ambitions of

the Emperor.

Crseih had failed, but it still existed, hidden out here on the edge of civilization, isolated by the disruption

of the exploding, dying stars. Some inhabitants remained, content to be free of the Empire. They also

lived outside the New Republic, without the protection of its justice.

Without the protection, or the restraints.

Han plunged the Millennium Falcon into the shadow of Crseih Station. He breathed a sigh of relief. Light

from the white dwarf still illuminated his ship, but the station blocked the intense X rays of the black hole.

Like a patchwork umbrella, powerful shielding covered half the irregular artificial planetoid of Crseih

Station. As the station had grown, the patches had spread. Shielding formed the residence domes, and

the corridors of the airlinks. Transparent to the visual spectrum, it protected the equipment and the

inhabitants from high-energy radiation. The shielding shimmered in patterns of shadow. Wherever a

particularly intense burst of radiation assaulted the shielding, it darkened.

Han set the Millennium Falcon down on a bare patch of blasted stone. Crseih had nothing much in the

way of a spaceport. A few itinerant hyperdrive mechanics and refuelers.

A rental company that specialized in shielding.

Han made arrangements for an extra shield for the Falcon. A few minutes later, a crawler shuffled toward

them, towing the big transparent sheet.

"Efficient," Luke said.

"Or bored. Sure isn't much traffic." He scowled. "Wouldn't you know? First vacation I ever get, and I

come to a backwater." "Threepio, where's your contact?" Luke asked.

A few dozen other ships of various types and vintages hunkered down on the blasted rock.

Most were shielded. A few had been left naked and exposed in the cosmic weather, decaying to

derelicts.

"Here to meet us, I'm virtually certain, Master Luke." See-Threepio peered nervously through the

viewport. "Perhaps riding out on the crawler?" See-Threepio fidgeted. A few weeks ago, Han had begun

to receive incomprehensible messages. But Threepio recognized the language; he said it was nearly

extinct. The messages passed on rumors of strange events at Crseih Station.

"It is my fault we've set out on this investigation," See-Threepio said.

Han had charged Threepio with replying to the messages, using the same obscure language, andwith

setting up a rendezvous. Now Threepio, being Threepio, took full responsibility for the entire expedition.

"I do hope we are not following a hoax," Threepio said.

"It's all right, Threepio," Han said.

"It wouldn't be your fault." "But I could hardly survive the embarrassment if the rumors turned out to be

of no account.

..." Han gave up listening to Threepio's worries. Han would be sorry for Luke, of course, if he failed to

find the lost Jedi. But Han was content to be here, whether the trip turned out to be vacation or

adventure.

He turned his attention to the outpost. The low, oblate airlinks covered and protected and connected the

districts of the station, some rich and well kept, some collapsing into piles of rubble. Though the Empire's

research facilities had been abandoned, the community that had sprung up around them had continued.

Some of the inhabitants had found other ways to thrive, without the presence of the Empire or the

attention of the New Republic.

Representatives and ambassadors concentrated their attention on more populous worlds closer to the

center of power.

And that's a relief, Han thought. No ambassadors, no court dress. No formal dinners.

The crawler hesitated.

"How will you be wishing to pay for this service?" its operator asked.

"Letter of resources," Han said.

"Hard credits only." The crawler started to back away.

"Wait a minute!" Han shouted. "Do you--" He stopped. He had been about to say, "Do you know who I

am?" But he was traveling incognito. Of course the operator did not know who he was.

The thought gave him a feeling of freedom.

"The letter of resources must be deposited, Master Ha--" See-Threepio's memory programming cut off

the use of Han's real name just in time. "Sir. Otherwise it cannot be drawn upon." "I know that." Han

grinned. "I guess I just wanted to flash it around. All those seals and signatures." And a fake identity.

The crawler headed for the airlinks.

"Come back here!" Han said. "Cash money." "Show your coin." Han displayed the rainbow edges of a

few bills of New Republic currency. He was glad, for old times' sake, for the sake of his smuggling days,

that the Senate had failed to pass a law abandoning physical currency. Smuggling would have been a

whole lot harder without hard-to-trace cash money. Of course, that was why the Senate wanted to

abandon it.

The crawler pulled forward again and maneuvered until the shield covered the Falcon. It disengaged, and

the shield settled.

The crawler nestled up beneath the Falcon.

Han shut down the Falcon and set several security devices, some of them cleverer than others.

"Let's go," he said. "And remember who we are. I mean, who we aren't." Threepio had put on the purple

lacquer; Han had grown his beard. But Luke had done nothing to disguise himself.

"I don't know, kid," Han said to Luke.

"I still think you ought to do something. Shave your head, maybe? Otherwise, somebody's sure to

recognize you." Luke gave him a quizzical glance.

"I'm not shaving my head. No one will recognize me." Han felt dizzy. Luke's features suddenly blurred

and reformed. He became, in Han's eyes, a different individual: darker hair, a handspan taller, thinner, his

features ordinary and unmemorable.

"Dammit!" Han said. "Don't do that to me!" The image shivered away, revealing Luke.

"All right," Luke said. "I won't affect you. But no one else will recognize me." "Okay." They descended.

Han wished Chewbacca was with them, but traveling incognito, it had been too risky. With his beard,

Han could probably escape identification. A human man and a chestnut Wookiee traveling together,

though: throughout the Republic, that image made people think of General Han Solo and his friend, the