The sound of his voice made her jump. "Hey Jan. I got what I came for, but these clowns want it back. How 'bout a ride? Over."

Jan took her boots off the console and spoke into her headset. "Hang in there. I'm on my way. Over."

All the major systems were on-line. Jan flipped some switches, waited for the corresponding green lights, and fired the ship's repulsors. The Crow went straight up.

A farmer returning from a late-night errand saw the starship rise out of the hollow, lost control of his gravsled, and took a nasty tumble.

Jan turned the bow toward Fuel City and added power. The lighthearted banter didn't fool her for a moment - Kyle was in trouble. Seconds would count.

She was low this time - so low, that Fuel City Control wouldn't see her till it was too late. A flock of gra scattered as she skimmed a hilltop, and lights twinkled on the horizon.

It seemed as if someone had called for help because the ship was crawling with troops. Kyle shot an officer, hurtled down the pa.s.sageway, and saw the access ladder.

Armored legs appeared, followed by a stormtrooper's torso. His boots. .h.i.t the deck; he turned, saw Kyle, and went for his a.s.sault weapon. It was slung across his back and not readily accessible. The agent shot the Imperial three times in quick succession and watched him fall.

An indicator flashed red and signaled the need for a fresh power pack. There were backups on the agent's belt but no time to mess with them, not with a perfectly good a.s.sault rifle waiting to be taken. He holstered the blaster, grabbed the more powerful weapon, and spun toward the other end of the pa.s.sageway.

A trio of Commandos came around the corner, paused by their officer's body, and opened fire.

Kyle ducked, fired three short bursts, and brought two of them down. The third thought better of the whole thing and fled.

Kyle took advantage of the respite to scramble up the ladder and slam the inner hatch. Two minutes' worth of sustained fire was sufficient to spotweld the door in place.

Once that was accomplished, the Rebel climbed through the lock and stuck his head outside. There was no sign of Jan. But there was lots of opposition. Ten or twelve Imperials were visible on the catwalks around him. A trooper spotted him, yelled something incoherent, and opened fire.

Thankful for the protection offered by the lock, Kyle returned the favor. The Imperial threw out his arms and fell into the darkness below. Orders were shouted, and fire came from all around.

Captain Zyak had completed his shift and was about to head for his quarters when all heck broke loose. Information was hard to come by but judging from fragmentary comm traffic and the manner in which energy beams zipped back and forth, a full-fledged firefight was under way.

Given the fact that his replacement - a sallow-faced specimen named Nomo - had just graduated from air-traffic control school, the officer decided to stay. He peered through electrobinoculars and spoke from the side of his mouth.

"Lieutenant Nomo. Get ahold of the idiot in charge of those troops and remind him that they named this complex 'Fuel City' for a reason. One shot in the wrong place and every single one of us is dead."

Nomo's hand shook as he lifted a comlink and made the necessary call.

"Incoming ship," a tech said laconically. "Vector eight - and coming fast."

"Tell them to break it off," Zyak ordered, scanning the battle below. "I have enough problems."

"I spoke with their commanding officer," Nomo said urgently. "He has orders to kill the infiltrators regardless of cost."

"His b.u.t.t will be the first to fry," the officer said wearily, "but there's no reasoning with people like that. Call operations - tell them to stop the pumps and bleed the pipes. Order switching to close valves one through forty-six. The less fuel in circulation, the better."

"The incoming craft suggests that we perform an unnatural act on ourselves," the tech said patiently. "Response?"

Zyak turned, strode over to the tech's position, and scanned his screens. He'd seen the target before. One-niner-two was back - and there was very little doubt as to why . .

. . The pilot with the nice voice had dropped a team of agents into his complex and was planning to extract them. Zyak remembered the advice he had given and felt betrayed. It was stupid - he knew that - but that's how he felt.

"Blow her out of the sky," Zyak said flatly, "and do it now."

Jan kicked the Crow from port to starboard in an effort to confuse the surface-to-air missile batteries. She heard a tone as the weapons were launched. The ship's computer found the missiles, cla.s.sified them by type, and fed the information to her console.

Jan ejected chaff in an effort to create more targets, fired four antimissile missiles, and used her energy cannon to strafe an outlying fuel tank. It exploded, attracted every heat-seeking missile then in the air, and erupted again. An obscene red-orange flower blossomed, consuming everything around it, and sent petals toward the sky.

"By all the G.o.ds," Nomo said, his voice filled with wonder, "look at that! We blew the ship out of the air!"

"That was storage tank sixteen, you idiot," Zyak replied crossly. "Have they bled the pipes yet?"

Nomo checked a console. "Not entirely, sir. They read seventy percent and falling."

"And the valves?"

"They're working on it - some kind of relay went down. What's so important about bleeding the . . . "

Nomo's question was cut short as tanks fifteen, fourteen, and thirteen blew in quick succession. The explosions shook the transparisteel windows and sent a mug crashing to the deck. Fires, each overlapping the next, lit the night.

"That's why the pipes are so important," Zyak said bleakly. "As long as they have fuel in them and the valves remain open, they function as fuses. Well, Nomo, it's your shift. Sort this one out and you'll be a Captain by Monday. Fail, and you'll be working in the mines."

The color drained from the younger officer's face as he watched Zyak remove personal items from a drawer. "Mines? What mines? Where will you go?"

"As far as I can," Zyak said grimly. "As far as I can."

The Crow banked left, then right as Jan guided the ship between pillars of fire. The control tower appeared on the left, and she pa.s.sed within fifty meters of it. A frightened face peered out and disappeared. "Kyle? Where the heck are you? We won't get a second chance. Over."

Kyle watched another storage tank explode off to the north, realized the destruction was marching his way, and spoke into his wrist comm. "Look for station six. I'm on the top surface of a large cargo ship. Over."

Fuel City's computerized docking system was still up and running. A diagram appeared on the Crow's nav screen. Jan spotted station six, dodged a communications pylon, and fired her retros. The ship slowed, dropped into the appropriate approach slot, and eased forward. Blaster fire splashed against the ship's hull but lacked the force to penetrate. The larger, more powerful weapons, the ones a.s.signed to defend the entire complex, were equipped with stops that prevented them from firing on a fueling station - a rather wise precaution, all things considered.

The Crow was backlit by a distant fire. Kyle raised his arms and brought his wrists together as the ship coasted into position. The ramp whirred, and jerked to a stop. A gust of wind hit the starboard side of the hull, and Jan fought for control.

The agent checked to make sure that he had a good grip on 88's head, waited for the ramp to swing his way, and made the necessary jump. The ramp bounced, swayed, and pulled Kyle up. Energy bolts flashed, but none came close enough to worry about.

Once inside, Kyle made his way to the c.o.c.kpit. Jan wrinkled her nose. "Who's your friend? He could use some deodorant."

Kyle grinned. "Jan, meet 8188. What's left of him, anyway. 8t88, meet Jan. She's cranky sometimes. But very good looking. Not something you could relate to."

It was a nice compliment, and one that Jan would have enjoyed a lot more if the circ.u.mstances had been different. Sensors went off as a TIE fighter approached. She performed a wing-over, circled a stillintact storage unit, and opened fire. The enemy ship seemed to stagger, nose-dived into the tank, and triggered a ma.s.sive explosion. Shrapnel flew in every direction, punctured a line, and sent fuel spilling out onto the ground. A piece of still-burning debris splashed into the liquid and set it afire. The lake expanded and wrapped the maintenance facility in a red-hot embrace.

Kyle swallowed and fought the desire to grab the controls. "Where the heck did he come from?"

"I believe TIE fighters are manufactured by Sienar Fleet Systems," Jan replied sweetly, "or were you referring to the pilot?"

"Ex-pilot," Kyle said dryly. "Head for the Nefra Canyons. Maybe we can lose them."

Though not as familiar with Sulon as Kyle, Jan knew the canyons were part of the dry, semiarid region that lay just beyond the Hanto mountain range, only minutes away as the crow flies. The sun had broken over the eastern horizon by then and flooded the land with pink light.

Jan turned toward the east, saw Kyle rise from his chair, and knew what he intended to do. The Crow was vulnerable from behind.

Mountains appeared ahead. A brace of TIE fighters took up position behind them and opened fire. Jan jinked back and forth. The cannon fire went wide.

A pair of jagged peaks stabbed the sky. They were so close together that locals referred to them as "the twins." Jan spoke into a wire-thin boom mike. "Grab something solid - and hang tight."

The Crow stood on her right wing as she pa.s.sed between the peaks. Kyle, who had opened the top hatch and was facing backward, had a bird's-eye view of what happened next.

The first TIE fighter imitated Jan's move and made it through the gap. The second wasn't so fortunate. It was hard to tell what went wrong, whether the pilot misjudged the distances involved or experienced a momentary malfunction. Whatever the reason, the Imperial ship caught the side of a peak, exploded, and sent an avalanche thundering toward the base of the mountain.

The surviving pilot hung back for a moment, seemed to regain his confidence, and took up the chase.

Kyle fought the backward pressure exerted by the slipstream and drew his blaster. It contained a fresh power pack, and the indicator glowed green. The agent struggled to hold the weapon steady, pressed the firing stud, and watched energy blip toward the fighter. It was really kind of silly, like hunting a krayt dragon with a peashooter, but something was better than nothing. The Imperial ignored Kyle and opened fire. The bolts went wide.

Jan eyed the labyrinth of canyons, wished she knew them better, and put the ship into a long, shallow dive.

Reddish-brown walls rose around the Crow as the agent dived into one of the larger ravines, followed it to the right, and pa.s.sed beneath a land bridge.

Kyle watched heavily eroded cliffs flash by hoped Jan knew what she was doing, and forced himself to let it go. The Rebel felt a tremendous sense of calm as everything seemed to slow. Now he had time to think - to concentrate. He fired, rode the burst of energy outward, and flew wide of the target.

The agent corrected his aim, "saw" where the TIE fighter would go next, and triggered the next shot. He rode this one all the way to the transparisteel canopy that protected the Imperial pilot and felt himself dissipate against it. Though not strong enough to punch its way through, the energy bolt did manage to blister the outer surface of the windshield.

The pilot leaned over sideways in an attempt to see around the blockage, lost his concentration, and paid for the mistake with his life.

Jan saw a cliff hurtling toward her face, pulled back on the control yoke, and felt something heavy hit the bottom of her stomach.

The Crow stood on her tail, Kyle struggled to hang on, and the TIE fighter kept going. It hit the wall, exploded, and showered the canyon with debris.

Jan leveled out, checked her sensors, and spoke into the mike. "Kyle? Are you okay?"

The voice came from right beside her as Kyle dropped into the copilot's seat. "No, I'm not okay - you took five years off my life."

Jan smiled. "And why not? I've saved it enough times. Where to?"

"The farm - so 88 can tell us what he knows."

"Does that make sense? Your father's place was crawling with Imperials."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, but I'm guessing they're gone by now, pulled off to deal with the problems in Baron's Hed and Fuel City."

Jan looked toward the south. A column of smoke marked the spot where the refueling complex was located. And, judging from the way it billowed upward, the fires continued to burn. "You could be right. But how 'bout some sleep? Say, eight hours' worth?"

Kyle gave it some thought. A rest would feel good - and would give the Imperials that much more time to clear the farm. "Copy that . . . Sleep first, farm second."

The sun hung low in the sky, shadows pointed toward the east, and the day was coming to an end. Jan circled the farm for the third time, searched the ground for signs of Imperial troops, and failed to see any. "Looks like you were right, Kyle. I'll put her down."

The agent nodded. Jan had hidden the Crow in the ruins of a longdefunct factory, where a section of partially intact roof screened the vessel from orbital scrutiny. Snug in their hiding place and with Wee Gee to serve as a lookout, they slept through most of the day.

They awoke well past noon and took turns in the fresher. Jan tended to Kyle's cuts, scratchcs, and puncture wounds, and he made dinner. They ate outside, sitting within the ruins of a once-prosperous factory, talking about simple things - things that had nothing to do with war, fear, and death. It felt good and left both of them re-energized.

There was a gentle thump as the ship touched down. They left the vessel with blasters in hand. There were tracks but no sign of the troops who had made them. Kyle returned the blaster to its holster, called Wee Gee, and led the way to the house.

Hinges squeaked as the door swung open. Kyle checked for b.o.o.by traps, failed to find any, and stepped inside. Things were just as he'd left them. Jan had never been in the house before and tried to imagine what it had been like - the man with the beard going about his work while a little boy took things apart and put them back together again - not unlike the many happy hours she had spent with her father. Kyle's voice brought her back to the present. "Jan? What are you smiling about?"

Caught unawares, and more than a little embarra.s.sed, Jan shrugged. "Nothing special. So where's this workshop I've heard so much about?"

"Right this way," Kyle replied. "Watch your step, though - our guests forgot to clean up after themselves."

The lights came on, and after a little bit of searching, Kyle found the items he required. It took the better part of ten minutes to locate the necessary cables, make the proper connections, and hook the droids together. "There," Jan said, "that should do it. What now?"

"Now, we learn something very important," Kyle said gravely. "Something my father and at least one Jedi gave their lives to protect - the coordinates for a long-lost world and the Valley of the Jedi."

The way that he said it sent a tingle down Jan's spine. Wee Gee held the droid's head aloft and sent the necessary signal. Beams of light shot out of 88's eyes, and a series of seemingly random images appeared, followed by the one Kyle had been waiting for: a shot of the reconstructed ceiling mosaic, followed by layer after layer of star maps and a shot of an orange-green world.

Kyle gave a whoop of joy, and grabbed Jan and danced her around the room. She laughed and tripped on a pile of debris.

Kyle saved her from a fall, held her in his arms, and looked into her eyes. He liked what he saw there, and what he felt as their lips touched.

Finally, after what seemed like a long time but actually was not, the kiss came to an end. Kyle felt awkward and slightly embarra.s.sed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to take advantage."

Jan shook her head. "Don't be. I'm not."

Repulsors rumbled, the walls shook, and Kyle went for his blaster. An extremely strong personality had arrived. One that sent waves through the Force and seemed to radiate strength. "The Imperials! They're back! Disconnect the head. Come on, Weeg let's get out of here."

The agent dashed out of the workshop and entered the living room. With a quick glance through the window, he skidded to a halt. A ship had landed, all right. But not the kind he had expected. The Rebel Xwing sat more than a hundred meters away. Its pilot, a man not that much older than Kyle himself, stood before the tap tree.

Something about the man's stance, the way in which he paused to pay his respects to another life form, was more eloquent than words. That plus the lightsaber that hung by his side signaled who and what he was: a Jedi Knight.

Jan spoke from beside him. "That's Luke Skywalker. I met him aboard the New Hope."

Kyle frowned. "Skywalker? Here? Why?"

"I think he was sent to check on us," Jan said gently, "to see how we're doing."

Suddenly, Kyle was bedridden again, watching through half-slit eyes as Jan placed something in one of his pockets. "You took the disk and gave it to them! They sent you to spy on me!"

His voice was filled with anger, and Jan hardened herself against it. "Yes, I did." The agent's chin came up, and her eyes glowed with defiance. "And I'd do it again. I love you, Kyle Katarn. But I love freedom even more .... The Valley of the Jedi is too important, too dangerous, for you to handle alone."

Kyle shook his head. "And to think that I trusted you."

Now it was Jan's turn to be angry. "Did you? Is that why you kept everything to yourself - asked me to risk my life for something I didn't know about - treated me like a convenience - ignored the chain of command - acted as if you were smarter than everyone else?"

They were harsh words made all the worse by the fact that Kyle knew they were true. One part of him wanted to strike back, to hurt Jan in the same way that she had hurt him, but another, wiser aspect of his personality offered counsel. Which was more important? His pride? Or the relationship his words could destroy?

Silence hung like a blanket between them. Jan waited. What would Kyle say? What would he do?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he took her hands in his. "I'm sorry, Jan. It won't happen again."

Jan kissed Kyle on the cheek, took him by the hand, and led him outside. Skywalker, who seemed to have been waiting for such a move, turned in their direction. He smiled and held out his hand. "Kyle Katarn - Luke Skywalker. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Kyle blushed at the unexpected compliment. "Thanks. The pleasure is mutual.