Star Wars

Hand of Thrawn Duology

Book 2 : Vision of the Future

by Timothy Zahn

TO THE STAR LADIES, THE WILD KARRDES, THE  CLUB  JADERS,  AND  MY  BOTHAN

SPIES. AND ESPECIALLY TO TISH PAHL, MINISTER  OF  FORMATION:  BOTH  IN  -  AND

DISIN-

CHAPTER

1

The Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera slid through the black of space, its

only companion the silent gas giant world of Pesitiin far below.

Admiral Pellaeon was standing at the forward viewport, gazing out at  the

dead planet, when Captain Ardiff arrived on the  bridge.  "Report  from  Major

Harch, Admiral," he said briskly. "All damage from that pirate attack has been

repaired.

Your ship is back to full fighting readiness."

"Thank you, Captain," Pellaeon said, carefully hiding  a  smile.  In  the

thirty hours since the failed attack on the Chimaera,  Ardiff  had  gone  from

believing it to be  a  raid  by  New  Republic  General  Garm  Bel  Iblis,  to

suspicions that it had been engineered  by  dissident  Imperial  elements,  to

similar  suspicions  involving  similarly  dissident  Rebels,  and   was   now

apparently convinced that a pirate gang was responsible.

Of course, in all fairness, Ardiff had  had  the  past  thirty  hours  to

cogitate on his theories. The techs' preliminary report  on  the  debris  from

that destroyed Kaloth battlecruiser had  certainly  influenced  his  thinking,

too. "Anything new from the patrols?" Pellaeon asked.

"Just more  negatives,  sir,"  Ardiff  said.  "Still  no  indications  of

activity anywhere in the system. Oh, and the sensor-stealthed assault  shuttle

you sent on the attackers' escape vector also just checked in. Still no trace.

"

Pellaeon nodded. As expected, really?anyone who could afford to  buy  and

fly a battlecruiser usually knew a few tricks about hiding it. "It was worth a

try," he told Ardiff. "Have them try one more system; we can transmit that far

without relays. If they haven't picked up the trail by then, order them back."

"Yes, sir," Ardiff murmured.

Even without  looking,  Pellaeon  could  sense  Ardiff's  hesitation.  "A

question, Captain?" he prompted.

"It's this communications blackout, sir,"  Ardiff  said.  "I  don't  like

being so completely out of contact this way. It's like being blind  and  deaf;

and frankly, it makes me nervous."

"I don't much like it myself," Pellaeon conceded. "But the only  ways  to

make contact with the outside universe are to either transmit to  an  Imperial

relay station or punch our way onto the HoloNet; and the minute we do  either,

everyone from Coruscant to Bastion will know  we're  here.  If  that  happens,

we'll have more than the occasional pirate gang lining up to take potshots  at

us."

And, he added silently, it would be the end of any  chance  for  a  quiet

meeting between him and Bel Iblis. Assuming the general was indeed willing  to

talk.

"I understand all that, Admiral," Ardiff said. "But has  it  occurred  to

you that yesterday's attack might not have been an isolated  incident  against

an isolated Imperial ship?"

Pellaeon cocked an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting it might have  been  part

of a coordinated attack against the Empire?"

"Why not?" Ardiff said. "I'm willing to concede at  this  point  that  it

probably wasn't the New Republic who hired them. But why couldn't the  pirates

have set it up on their own? The Empire has always come down  hard  on  pirate

gangs. Maybe a group of them got together and decided the time was  right  for

revenge."

Pellaeon  stroked  his  lip  thoughtfully.  On  the  surface,  it  was  a

ridiculous suggestion?even on its deathbed the Empire was  far  stronger  than

any possible aggregate of pirate gangs could hope to defeat. But  that  didn't

mean they wouldn't be foolish enough to try. "That still leaves  the  question

of how they knew we were here," he pointed out.

"We still don't know what happened to Colonel  Vermel,"  Ardiff  reminded

him. "Maybe it was this pirate coalition who snatched him. He could have  told

them about Pesitiin."

"Not willingly," Pellaeon said darkly. "If they did what it would take to

make him talk, I'll decorate Bastion's moon with their hides."

"Yes, sir," Ardiff said. "But that brings us back to the question of  how

long we're going to stay here."

Pellaeon looked out the viewport at the stars. Yes, that was  indeed  the

question.

How long should they wait here in the middle of nowhere in the hope  that

this slow attrition of the Empire could be stopped? That they could  end  this

war with the New Republic with a shred of territory and dignity still intact?

That they could finally have peace?

"Two weeks," he said. "We'll give Bel Iblis another two weeks to  respond

to our offer."

"Even though the message may not have reached him?"

"The message reached him," Pellaeon said  firmly.  "Vermel  is  a  highly

resourceful, highly competent officer. Whatever happened to  him,  I  have  no

doubt he completed his mission first."

"Yes, sir," Ardiff said, his tone making it clear that  he  didn't  share

Pellaeon's confidence. "And if Bel Iblis doesn't come within that time frame?"

Pellaeon pursed his lips. "We'll decide then."

Ardiff hesitated, then took half a step  closer  to  his  superior.  "You

really believe this is our best hope, sir, don't you," he said quietly.

Pellaeon shook his head. "No, Captain," he murmured. "I believe it's  our

only hope."

* * *

The wedge of approaching Sienar  IPV/4  patrol  ships  broke  in  perfect

formation to both sides, and the Imperial  Star  Destroyer  Relentless  glided

smoothly  between  the  re-forming  clusters  toward  its  designated  orbital

position. "Very impressive," Moff Disra growled to the slim  man  beside  him,

hearing his heart pounding in his ears as he gazed across the  bridge  at  the

green-blue world framed in the forward viewport. "I trust you didn't  haul  me

all the way out here  just  to  watch  the  Kroctarian  home  defense  force's

maneuvers."

"Patience, Your Excellency," Major Grodin  Tierce  said  quietly  at  his

side. "I told you we had a surprise for you."

Disra felt his lip twist. Yes, that's what Tierce had said. And that  was

all Tierce had said. And as for Flim?

Disra shifted his gaze to the Admiral's chair, feeling his  lip  twist  a

little more. Their tame con man was sitting there, bold as  bricbrass  in  his

blue-skin makeup and glowing red eye  surface  inserts  and  his  white  Grand

Admiral's uniform.

The absolute laser-trimmed image of Grand Admiral  Thrawn,  a  masquerade

solidly believed by every Imperial aboard the Relentless from Captain Dorja on

down.

Trouble was, there weren't any Imperials on the planet  below  them.  Far

from it.

Kroctar, merchant center and capital of Shataum sector, was deep  in  New

Republic territory, with every bit as much military  firepower  as  one  would

expect such a world to have. There was no guarantee that any of them would  be

impressed by Flim's eyes and uniform and acting ability.

And if they weren't, this cozy little triumvirate Disra  had  formed  was

about to blow up in their faces. Flim might look like Thrawn, but he  had  all

the tactical genius of a garbage-pit parasite. Tierce, a  former  stormtrooper

and Royal Guardsman under Emperor Palpatine, was the military brains of  their

little group; and if Captain Dorja saw an allegedly lowly major rush  over  to

the allegedly brilliant Grand Admiral to give him advice, this whole  illusion

would explode into soap scum. Whatever bluff Tierce was running here,  it  had

better work.

"Transmission from the surface, Admiral," the comm  officer  called  from

the portside crew pit. "It's Lord  Superior  Bosmihi,  chief  of  the  Unified

Factions."

"On speaker, Lieutenant," Thrawn said. "Lord Superior  Bosmihi,  this  is

Grand Admiral Thrawn. I received your message. What may I do for you?"

Disra frowned at Tierce. "They called us?" he muttered.

Tierce nodded, a small but satisfied smile playing around his lips. "Shh,

" he said. "Listen."

"We offer you greeting, Grand Admiral  Thrawn,"  a  nasally  alien  voice

boomed over the comm, "and we congratulate you most heartily on your triumphal

return."

"Thank you," Thrawn said smoothly. "As I recall, you were  somewhat  less

enthusiastic at our last meeting."

Disra threw Tierce a sharp look. "During his sweep  through  this  sector

ten years ago," Tierce murmured. "Don't worry, he knows all about it."

The alien gave a blubbering laugh. "Ah, yes?you remember  most  clearly,"

he admitted cheerfully. "At that time the fear of Imperial power and the  lure

of promised freedoms still held sway over us."

"Such lies held sway over many," Thrawn  agreed.  "Does  your  choice  of

words imply the Kroctari have come to a new understanding?"

There was a disgusting, wheezy-sounding noise from  the  comm.  "We  have

seen the crumbling of the promise," the Lord Superior said regretfully. "There

is no longer any order emanating from Coruscant; no focused  goals,  no  clear

structures, no discipline. A thousand different alien species tug  the  galaxy

in a thousand different directions."

"Inevitably,"  Thrawn  said.  "That  was  why  Emperor  Palpatine   first

inaugurated the New Order. It was an attempt to reverse the collapse  you  now

see coming."

"Yet we were also warned not to trust Imperial promises," Bosmihi hedged.

"The history of the Empire is one of brutal subjugation of nonhuman species."

"You speak of the rule of Palpatine," Thrawn said. "The Empire has  freed

itself from his self-destructive anti-alien bias."

"Your presence in a place of command is some evidence of  that,"  Bosmihi

said cautiously. "Still, others still say the bias exists."

"Others still lie about the Empire in many ways," Thrawn countered.  "But

there's no need for you to take my word for it. Speak to any  of  the  fifteen

alien species currently living under Imperial rule,  beings  who  cherish  the

protection and stability we offer."

"Yes?protection." The Lord Superior seemed to pounce on  the  word.  "The

Empire is said to be weak; yet I perceive that you still have great  strength.

What guarantee of safety do you offer your member systems?"

"The best guarantee in the galaxy," Thrawn said; and even  Disra  felt  a

shiver run through him at the veiled power and menace that was suddenly in the

con man's voice. "My personal promise of vengeance should anyone  dare  attack

you."

There was a noise that sounded midway between a swallow and  a  burp.  "I

see," Bosmihi said soberly. "I understand that this is rather sudden, and  for

this I apologize; but on behalf  of  the  Unified  Factions  of  the  Kroctari

people, I would like to petition you for re-admission into the Empire."

Disra looked at Tierce, feeling his jaw  drop  a  few  millimeters.  "Re-

admission?" he hissed.

Tierce smiled back. "Surprise, Your Excellency."

"On behalf of the Empire, I accept your petition," Thrawn said.  "You  no

doubt have a delegation standing ready to discuss the details?"

"You understand my people well, Grand Admiral Thrawn," the Lord  Superior

said wryly. "Yes, my delegation does indeed await your pleasure."

"Then you may signal them to approach," Thrawn told him. "As it  happens,

Imperial Moff Disra is currently aboard the Relentless. As he is a  specialist

in political matters, he will handle the negotiations."

"We will be honored to meet with him," Bosmihi said. "Though I doubt  his

presence there is in any way the  coincidence  you  imply.  Thank  you,  Grand

Admiral Thrawn; and until the meeting."

"Until the meeting, Lord Superior Bosmihi," Thrawn said.

He gestured to the crew pit.  "Transmission  ended,  Admiral,"  the  comm

officer confirmed.

"Thank you," Thrawn said, rising almost leisurely from his command chair.

"Signal TIE interceptors to stand ready for escort duty. They're to  meet  the

Lord Superior's shuttle as soon as it clears atmosphere, flying in full  honor

formation. Captain Dorja, I'd like you to  meet  the  shuttle  personally  and

escort the delegation to Conference Room 68. Moff Disra will await you there."

"Understood, Admiral," Dorja said. He strode from  the  bridge,  throwing

Disra a tightly satisfied smile as he  passed,  and  stepped  into  a  waiting

turbolift in the aft bridge. "You might have said something,"  Disra  muttered

to Tierce as the turbolift door closed behind the captain.

The Guardsman shrugged, a  microscopic  movement  of  the  shoulders.  "I

wasn't absolutely sure this was what they wanted when they called,"  he  said,

gesturing Disra through the aft doors toward another turbolift. "But it seemed

like a good guess. Kroctar has several potentially  dangerous  neighbors,  and

Intelligence reports the Unified Factions have become extremely  disillusioned

by Coruscant's inability to decide how tight a restraining bolt they  want  to

keep on intersystem fighting."

They reached the turbolift and stepped into a waiting car. "Kroctar's the

first," Tierce continued as the doors closed and they began to move.  "But  it

won't be the last. We already have transmissions  from  twenty  other  systems

whose governments would like Grand Admiral Thrawn to drop in for a chat."

Disra snorted. "All they're trying to do is shake up their enemies."

"Probably," Tierce agreed. "But what do we care why they want to  rejoin?

The point is that they do, and it's going to send shock  waves  from  here  to

Coruscant."

"Until Coruscant decides to take action."

"What action  can  they  take?"  Tierce  countered.  "Their  own  charter

specifically allows member systems to withdraw anytime they choose."

There was a beep from the turbolift comlink. "Moff Disra?"

"Yes?"

"There's a transmission coming in  for  you,  Your  Excellency,  under  a

private encryption designated Usk-51."

Disra felt his stomach try to cramp. Of all the stupid, brainless? "Thank

you," he said as calmly as he could manage. "Have it transferred to Conference

Room 68, and make sure it's not monitored."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

Tierce was frowning at him. "That's not??"

"It certainly is," Disra bit out. The turbolift  doors  opened?"Come  on.

And stay out of sight."

Two minutes later they were in the conference room with the door privacy-

sealed behind them. Activating the comm display set into  the  center  of  the

table, Disra pulled the proper encryption datacard  from  his  collection  and

slid it into the slot. He keyed for reception?

"It's about time," Captain Zothip spat,  his  eyes  flashing,  his  bushy

blond beard bristling with anger. "Don't you think I've got better  things  to

do than??"

"What!" Disra barked. Zothip's head jerked back, his own tirade  breaking

off midway in sudden confusion. "Do... you... think... you're... doing?" Disra

continued into the silence, biting out each word like the crack  of  a  rotten

snapstick. "How dare you take such an insane risk?"

"Never mind your precious image," Zothip growled, some of  his  insolence

starting  to  come  back.  "If  consorting  with  pirates   is   suddenly   an

embarrassment for you?"

"Embarrassment is not the issue here," Disra said  icily.  "I'm  thinking

about our two necks, and whether we get to keep them. Or  hadn't  you  noticed

how many relays there are in this transmission?"

"No kidding," Zothip said with a sniff. "And here I thought it  was  just

your wonderful Imperial comm equipment kicking ions again. So where  are  you,

out at your vacation home counting your money?"

"Hardly," Disra said. "I'm aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer."

Zothip's face seemed to darken. "If that's supposed to impress me,  you'd

better try again. I've about had my fill of your precious Star Destroyers."

"Really." Disra smiled coldly. "Let me guess. You got overconfident, went

in blazing, and Admiral Pellaeon clipped your tail feathers for you."

"Don't mock me, Disra," Zothip warned. "Don't ever  mock  me.  I  lost  a

Kaloth battlecruiser and eight hundred good men to that Vader-ripped  katchni.

And the payment's going to come out of somebody's hide. Pellaeon's, or yours."

"Don't be absurd," Disra said scornfully. "And don't try to blame  it  on

me. I warned you not to actually engage the Chimaera. All you were supposed to

do was make him think Bel Iblis was attacking."

"And how did you expect I was supposed to do  that?"  Zothip  shot  back.

"Insult his family? Transmit lists of ancient Corellian curses?"

"You pushed an Imperial  too  hard  and  he  pushed  back,"  Disra  said.

"Consider it a useful lesson painfully learned. And hope  you  don't  need  to

learn it again."

Zothip glared. "Is that a threat?" he demanded.

"It's a  warning,"  Disra  snapped.  "Our  partnership's  been  extremely

profitable for both of us. I've had the chance to play havoc with New Republic

shipping; you've had the chance to collect the merchandise from those ships."

"And have taken all the risks," Zothip put in.

Disra shrugged. "Regardless, I'd hate to see such a valuable relationship

dissolve over something this trivial."

"Trust me, Disra," Zothip said softly. "When our  relationship  dissolves

you'll find a lot more than that for you to hate."

"I'll start making a list," Disra said. "Now go  lace  your  wounds;  and

next time you want to talk to me go through proper  channels.  This  encrypt's

one of the best ever created, but nothing's totally slice-proof."

"The encrypt's that good, huh?" Zothip said sardonically. "I'll  have  to

remember that. Should bring a good price on the open market  if  I  ever  need

quick money. I'll be in touch."

He waved a hand  offscreen,  and  the  display  blanked.  "Idiot,"  Disra

snarled toward the empty display. "Moronic, brain-rotted idiot."

Across the table, Tierce stirred. "I trust you're planning to be a little

more politic than that with the Kroctari," he said.

Disra shifted his glare from the display to  the  Guardsman.  "What,  you

think I should have let him cry on my shoulder? Or said  'There,  there,'  and

promised to buy him a new battlecruiser?"

"The Cavrilhu Pirates would be a dangerous enemy,"  Tierce  warned.  "Not

militarily, of course, but because of what they know about you."

"Zothip's the only one who really knows anything," Disra muttered. Tierce

was right?he probably should have played it a little more calmly.  But  Zothip

still shouldn't have contacted him directly like that, especially not when  he

was away from the security of his office.

Regardless, he wasn't going to admit an error  in  judgment  in  Tierce's

presence.

"Don't worry?he's making too much out of this arrangement to toss it  all

over a single battlecruiser."

"I wonder," Tierce said thoughtfully.  "You  should  never  underestimate

what people will do out of pride."

"No," Disra said significantly. "Or out of arrogance, either."

Tierce's eyes narrowed fractionally. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've pushed things too far," Disra said flatly.  "Dangerously

far. In case you've forgotten, Flim's job was to inspire the Empire's military

and bring them solidly into line behind us. It was never part of the  plan  to

openly provoke the New Republic this way."

"I've already explained Coruscant has no legal basis for action?"

"And you think that will stop them?" Disra shot back. "You  really  think

fine points of the law will make any difference to terrified aliens who  think

Grand Admiral Thrawn is breathing down their necks? Bad enough that you talked

me into letting Flim show himself to the Diamalan Senator. But now  this?"  He

waved a hand in the direction of the planet.

"The Diamalan incident accomplished exactly what  it  was  intended  to,"

Tierce said coolly. "It  created  doubt  and  consternation,  stirred  up  old

animosities a bit more, and silenced some  of  the  last  calming  voices  the

Rebellion still has."

"Wonderful?except that now this little trick has completely negated  that

one," Disra countered. "How can anyone wonder if the Diamala are lying when  a

whole planet has seen Thrawn?"

Tierce smiled. "Ah, but that's the point: the whole  planet  hasn't  seen

him. Only the Lord Superior's handpicked delegation will have  seen  him;  the

rest have only their word that Thrawn has returned.  And  since  part  of  his

message to the neighboring systems will be  that  Kroctar  is  under  Thrawn's

protection, his sighting will be as suspect as the Diamal's."

"You always make it sound so reasonable," Disra  bit  out.  "But  there's

more here than you're letting on. I want to know what."

Tierce lifted his eyebrows. "That sounded like a threat."

"It was half a threat," Disra corrected him  coldly.  "Here's  the  other

half." Reaching into his tunic, he drew the tiny blaster concealed there.

He never even got a chance to aim it. Before the weapon was  even  clear,

Tierce had thrown himself onto the conference table, the momentum of his  leap

carrying him sliding headfirst on  elbow  and  hip  toward  Disra  across  the

polished laminate.

Reflexively, Disra leaped to his right, trying to move out  of  reach  of

the approaching hands; but even  as  he  lifted  the  blaster,  Tierce  rolled

partway over and grabbed the center comm display, using it as a pivot point to

both change direction and also roll him onto  his  back,  swiveling  his  feet

around in front of him, and then pushing off of it to increase his speed.

The maneuver caught Disra flat-footed. Before  he  could  move  again  to

correct his aim, one of Tierce's feet caught the blaster squarely  across  the

side of the barrel, sending it spinning across the room.

Disra took a staggering step back, the bitter taste of defeat choking his

throat, hands lifted in a futile gesture of defense as Tierce hopped  off  the

table. He'd had one chance to wrest control of this grand scheme back from the

Guardsman, and he'd muffed it.

And now Tierce would kill him.

But once again, Tierce surprised him. "That was extremely  foolish,  Your

Excellency," the other said calmly,  crossing  the  room  and  retrieving  the

blaster.

"The sound of a shot would have had a squad of stormtroopers down on  you

in nothing flat."

Disra took a careful breath, lowering his hands. "That works both  ways,"

he managed, knowing even as he said it that the  Guardsman  wouldn't  need  to

bother with anything so crude and noisy as a blaster if he wanted to kill him.

But Tierce merely shook his head. "You insist  on  misunderstanding,"  he

said.

"And you insist on working behind my back," Disra countered.  "Gaining  a

system or two isn't worth the risk of scaring Coruscant  into  action.  What's

going on that you aren't telling me?"

Tierce seemed to measure him with his eyes. "All right," he  said.  "Have

you ever heard the phrase 'the Hand of Thrawn'?"

Disra shook his head. "No."

"You answered that rather quickly."

"I was working on this plan long before you came  on  the  scene,"  Disra

reminded him tartly. "I found and read everything in the Imperial records that

pertained even remotely to Thrawn."

"Including everything in the Emperor's secret files?"

"Once I was able to find a way into them, yes." Disra frowned as a sudden

thought struck him. "Is this what your little trip to Yaga  Minor  last  month

was really all about?"

Tierce shrugged. "The primary purpose was exactly  as  we  discussed:  to

alter their copy of the Caamas Document to match  the  changes  you'd  already

made in the Bastion copy. But as long as I'd broken into the system anyway,  I

did spend some time looking for references."

"Of course," Disra said. Nothing so crude  as  a  direct  lie,  simply  a

conveniently neglected bit of the truth. "And?"

Tierce shook his head. "Nothing. As far as any existing  Imperial  record

is concerned, the term might not even exist."

"What makes you think it ever did?"

Tierce looked him straight in the eye. "Because I heard Thrawn mention it

once aboard the Chimaera. In the context of the Empire's  ultimate  and  total

victory."

Suddenly the room felt very cold. "You mean like  a  superweapon?"  Disra

asked carefully. "Another Death Star or Sun Crusher?"

"I don't know," Tierce said. "I don't think so.  Superweapons  were  more

the Emperor's or Admiral Daala's style, not Thrawn's."

"And he did just fine without them," Disra conceded. "Come  to  think  of

it, he did always seem more interested in conquest than  wholesale  slaughter.

Besides, if there were another superweapon  lying  around,  the  Rebels  would

almost certainly have found it by now."

"Most likely," Tierce said. "Unfortunately, we can't make it  quite  that

final.

Did your extensive research into Thrawn's history happen to turn  up  the

names Parck and Niriz?"

"Parck was the Imperial captain who found Thrawn on a deserted planet  at

the edge of Unknown Space and brought him back to the  Emperor,"  Disra  said.

"Niriz was the captain of the Imperial Star Destroyer Admonitor, which  Thrawn

took back into the Unknown Regions on his supposed mapping  expedition  a  few

years later."

" 'Supposed'?"

Disra sniffed. "It doesn't take much reading between  the  lines  to  see

that Thrawn tried his hand at Imperial Court  politics  and  got  his  fingers

burned. No matter what they called it, his assignment to the  Unknown  Regions

was a form of exile. Pure and simple."

"Yes, that was the general consensus among the Royal Guard at  the  time,

too," Tierce said thoughtfully. "I wonder now if there could have been more to

it than that. Regardless, the point is that neither Parck  nor  Niriz?nor  the

Admonitor, for that matter?ever returned to official duty with the Empire. Not

even when Thrawn himself came back."

Disra shrugged. "Killed in action?"

"Or else they did come back, but are in hiding somewhere,"  Tierce  said.

"Perhaps standing guard over this Hand of Thrawn."

"Which is what?" Disra demanded. "You say it's not a superweapon. So what

is it?"

"I didn't say it wasn't a superweapon," Tierce countered.  "I  just  said

superweapons weren't  Thrawn's  style.  Personally,  I  see  only  two  likely

possibilities. Did you ever hear of a woman named Mara Jade?"

Disra searched his memory. "I don't think so."

"She currently works with the smuggling chief Talon Karrde," Tierce said.

"But at the height of the Empire, she was one of Palpatine's  best  undercover

agents, with a title of Emperor's Hand."

Emperor's Hand. The Hand of Thrawn. "Interesting possibility," Disra said

thoughtfully. "But if the Hand is a person, where has he or she been all these

years?"

"Gone to ground, too, perhaps," Tierce said.  "The  second  possibility's

even more intriguing. Remember  that  above  all  else  Thrawn  was  a  master

strategist. What could be more his style than to leave behind  a  master  plan

for victory?"

Disra snorted. "Which after ten  years  of  Imperial  reverses  would  be

totally useless."

"I wouldn't dismiss it quite so quickly," Tierce  warned.  "A  strategist

like Thrawn didn't see battle plans solely in terms of numbers of warships and

locations of picket lines. He also considered geopolitical balances,  cultural

and psychological blind spots, historical animosities and rivalries?any number

of factors. Factors which could very likely still be exploited."

Absently, Disra rubbed his  hand  where  Tierce's  kick  had  jammed  the

blaster painfully against the skin. On the face of it, it was absurd.

And yet, he'd read the history of Thrawn's accomplishments. Had seen  the

record of the man's genius. Could he really have created a  battle  plan  that

could still be used ten years and a thousand defeats later? "What  about  that

five-year campaign I found in his files?" he asked. "Was  there  something  in

there I missed?"

"No." Tierce shook his head. "I've already been through it. All  that  is

is a rough outline  of  what  he  was  planning  to  do  after  the  Bilbringi

confrontation.

If the Hand of Thrawn is a master strategy,  he  hid  it  away  somewhere

else."

"With Captain Niriz and the Admonitor, you think?" Disra suggested.

"Perhaps," Tierce said. "Or else the ultimate victory lies with a  person

called the Hand. Either way, there's someone out there who  has  something  we

want."

Disra smiled tightly. Suddenly, it was clear as polished  transparisteel.

"And so in order to lure that someone into the open, you've decided to  parade

our decoy around a little."

Tierce inclined his head slightly. "Under the circumstances, I think  the

risks are worth taking."

"Perhaps," Disra murmured. "It assumes, of course,  that  it  wasn't  all

just a load of tall talk."

The corner of Tierce's lip twitched. "I was aboard the Chimaera with  the

Grand Admiral for several months, Disra. Before that, I watched him  from  the

Emperor's side for nearly two years. Never in all that time  did  I  hear  him

make a promise he wasn't able to carry out. If he said the Hand of Thrawn  was

the key to ultimate victory, then it was. You can count on it."

"Let's just hope whoever's holding the key comes  out  of  hiding  before

Coruscant gets nervous enough to take action," Disra  said.  "What  do  we  do

first?"

"What you do first is get ready to welcome the  Kroctari  back  into  the

Empire," Tierce said. Placing Disra's  blaster  on  the  table,  he  pulled  a

datacard from his tunic and set it down beside the  weapon.  "Here's  a  brief

rundown on the species in general and Lord Superior Bosmihi in particular," he

continued, starting toward the door. "It's all the data we had on  board,  I'm

afraid."

"It'll do," Disra said, stepping to the table and picking  up  the  card.

"Where are you going?"

"I thought I'd join Captain Dorja in escorting the  delegation  from  the

hangar  bay,"  Tierce  said.  "I'm  rather  looking  forward  to  seeing  your

negotiation skills in action."

Without waiting for a reply, he stepped through the door  and  was  gone.

"And to seeing whether or not the Royal Guardsman and con man still  need  the

Moff?" Disra muttered aloud after him.

Probably. But that was all right. Let him watch?let Flim watch,  too,  if

he liked.

He'd show them. By the time the Kroctarian delegation went home, both  of

them would be absolutely convinced that  Disra  wasn't  just  some  tired  old

politician whose brilliant scheme had somehow gotten away from him. He  was  a

vital part of this triumvirate, a part that was not going to simply fade  into

the background.

Especially not with a guarantee of ultimate victory almost  within  their

grasp.

He had started this; and by the Emperor's blood, he would be with  it  to

the very end.

Sliding the datacard into his datapad, he tucked his  blaster  away  into

its hidden holster and began to read.

* * *

There were no planets visible  from  the  bridge  of  the  Imperial  Star

Destroyer Tyrannic. No planets, no asteroids, no ships, no stars. Nothing  but

complete, uniform blackness.

Except for one spot. Off to  starboard,  barely  visible  within  Captain

Nalgol's view, was a small disk of dirty white. A tiny  sliver  of  the  comet

head the Tyrannic was riding  beside,  peeking  through  the  ship's  cloaking

shield.

They'd been flying like this for a month now, completely blind  and  deaf

to the rest of the universe outside their insular existence.

For Nalgol, it wasn't really a problem. He'd pulled duty on  one  of  the

Empire's most distant listening posts when he was a cadet, and the  mere  fact

that there was nothing outside to look at didn't bother him. But  not  all  of

the crew were as tough as he was. The vids  and  combat  practice  rooms  were

getting triple duty these days, and he'd heard rumors that some of  the  probe

ship pilots were being offered huge bribes to take a passenger or two on their

trips outside the darkness.

At the height of the Empire's power, Star Destroyer crews  had  been  the

elite of the galaxy. But that glory was far  behind  them;  and  if  something

didn't break soon, Nalgol was going to have a serious personnel problem on his

hands.

Outside, there was a brilliant flash from the upper portside quadrant.

Relatively brilliant, at least: the glowing drive from one of their probe

ships, carefully made up to look  like  a  battered  old  mining  tug.  Nalgol

watched as it circled around  to  vanish  beneath  the  arrowhead-shaped  hull

toward the hangar bay.

No, the unremitting blackness didn't bother him. Still, he had  to  admit

it had felt good to stretch his eyes there for a moment.

There was a step on the command walkway beside him.  "Preliminary  report

from Probe Two, sir," Intelligence Chief Oissan said in  that  tone  of  voice

that always sounded to Nalgol like someone smacking  his  lips.  "The  warship

count around Bothawui has gone up to fifty-six."

"Fifty-six?" Nalgol echoed, taking the other's datapad and  skimming  the

numbers.

If he remembered the list from yesterday's probe run? "Four new  Diamalan

ships?"

"Three Diamalan, one Mon  Calamari,"  Oissan  said.  "Probably  there  to

counter the six Opquis ships that arrived two days ago."

Nalgol shook his head in wordless amazement. From the beginning he'd  had

quiet but serious doubts about this mission?the idea that the Bothan homeworld

would  become  a  focal  point  for  any  military  activity,  let   alone   a

confrontation of this magnitude, had been ludicrous on the  face  of  it.  But

Grand Admiral Thrawn himself had apparently come  up  with  this  scheme;  and

plagued if old red-eyes hadn't been right.

"Very good," he told Oissan. "I want Probe Two's complete  report  filled

within the next two hours."

"Understood, Captain." Oissan seemed to hesitate. "I don't  mean  to  pry

into top-level affairs, sir, but at some point  I'm  going  to  need  to  know

what's going on out there if I'm to do my job properly."

"I wish I could help you, Colonel," Nalgol said candidly. "But  I  really

don't know a lot myself."

"But you did receive a special briefing from Grand Admiral Thrawn at Moff

Disra's palace, didn't you?" the other persisted.

"It hardly qualified as a briefing," Nalgol said. "He basically just gave

us our assignments and told us to trust him." He nodded in  the  direction  of

the comet and the other two Star Destroyers riding cloaked alongside it.  "Our

part is simple: we  wait  until  all  those  ships  out  there  have  battered

themselves and the planet into as much rubble as they're  going  to,  then  we

come out of cloak and finish them off."

"Finishing off Bothawui will be a good trick," Oissan commented dryly. "I

doubt the Bothans have scrimped on their planetary shield system. Thrawn  give

any idea how he's going to handle that?"

"Not to me," Nalgol said. "Under the circumstances, though, I'm  inclined

to assume he knows what he's doing."

"I suppose," Oissan muttered. "I wonder how he got  all  those  ships  to

face off like that?"

"Best guess is that rumor you picked up from your  fringe  contacts  just

before we cloaked," Nalgol said. "That thing about a group of  Bothans  having

been involved in the destruction of Caamas."

"Hardly seems something worth getting worked up  over,"  Oissan  sniffed.

"Especially not after all this time."

"Aliens get worked up over the strangest things,"  Nalgol  reminded  him,

feeling his lip twist with contempt. "And from the evidence out there, I'd say

Thrawn found exactly the right hot spot to hit them with."

"So it would seem," Oissan conceded. "How are we supposed to know when to

come out of cloak and attack?"

"I think a full-scale battle out there will be  fairly  obvious,"  Nalgol

said dryly. "Anyway, Thrawn's last message before we went under the cloak said

there would be an Imperial strike team on Bothawui soon, and  that  they'd  be

feeding us periodic data via spark transmission."

"That'll be  useful,"  Oissan  said  thoughtfully.  "Of  course,  knowing

Thrawn, he'll probably have the battle timed for the comet's closest  approach

to Bothawui, to give us the maximum benefit of surprise. That's about a  month

away."

"That makes sense," Nalgol agreed. "Though how he's going to get them  to

follow that tight a timetable I haven't a clue."

"Neither do I." Oissan smiled tightly. "That's probably why he's a  Grand

Admiral and we're not."

Nalgol smiled back. "Indeed," he said; and with that admission, one  more

layer of his private doubts seemed  to  melt  away.  Yes,  Thrawn  had  proved

himself in the past. Many, many times. However this magic of  his  worked,  it

was apparently still working.

And under the spell of Thrawn's genius, the Empire was about to get  some

of its own back. And that was really all Nalgol cared about.

"Thank you, Colonel," he said, handing back the other's datapad. "You may

return to your duties. Before you do, though, I want you to check  with  Probe

Control about whether we can increase our probe flights to twice a day without

drawing unwanted attention."

"Yes, sir," Oissan said with another tight smile. "After all, we wouldn't

want to miss out on our grand entrance."

Nalgol turned to gaze out at the blackness again. "We won't miss it,"  he

promised softly. "Not a chance."

CHAPTER

2

From somewhere in the  deep  recesses  of  his  mind  came  an  insistent

warbling; and with a jolt, Luke Skywalker snapped out of his Jedi  hibernation

trance. "Okay, Artoo," he told the droid as he rolled out  of  his  bunk,  and

took a moment to reorient himself. Right; he was aboard Mara Jade's ship,  the

Jade's Fire, heading toward the Nirauan system. The system where Mara  herself

had disappeared nearly two weeks ago. "Okay, I'm awake," he added, flexing his

fingers and toes and working moisture back into his mouth. "We almost there?"

The droid twittered an affirmative as Luke snagged his boots,  a  twitter

that was echoed from the direction of the cockpit. The echo was Mara's  Veeone

pilot droid, who had been flying the Fire ever since Luke and Artoo  had  come

aboard at the Duroon rendezvous point, and who up till now had refused to  let

either of them anywhere near the ship's controls.

An overprotectiveness that was about to come to an end. "Artoo,  go  back

to the docking port and make sure the X-wing's ready to  fly,"  he  instructed

the little droid as he headed toward the cockpit. "I'm going to take us in."

A minute later he was seated in the Fire's pilot's  seat,  reviewing  the

layout of the controls and displays one last time. The Veeone  droid,  perhaps

recognizing Luke's expression as one he'd seen often enough  on  Mara's  face,

had decided not to argue the point. "Get ready," Luke told the droid,  resting

his hands on the controls. The counter  ran  to  zero,  and  Luke  pushed  the

hyperdrive lever forward.

The starlines flared and shrank back  down  into  stars,  and  they  were

there.

The Veeone whistled softly. "That's the place,"  Luke  confirmed,  gazing

out at the distant sun, its tiny red disk looking cold and aloof.  The  planet

Nirauan itself was nowhere to be seen. "We're looking for the second  planet,"

he told the droid. "Can you get me a reading on it?"

The Veeone twittered an affirmative, and the nav displays came  to  life.

"I see it." Luke nodded, checking the reading. It was a pretty  fair  distance

away.

Which was by deliberate  design,  of  course.  The  Fire  had  impressive

shields and armament, but charging to the  rescue  with  quad  lasers  blazing

would be unlikely to do Mara any good, no matter what the  situation  she  was

in. Stealth and secrecy were the plan, and that meant leaving the Fire  hidden

out here while he and Artoo sneaked in in their X-wing.

He keyed the comm unit to the docking bay. "Artoo? Is everything ready?"

There was a confirming warble. "Good," Luke said, looking back at the nav

display. They were, he estimated, a good seven hours away from the  planet  by

the X-wing's sublight drive. A long time to sit in a cramped cockpit  worrying

about Mara, besides giving whoever was down there a straight  vector  back  to

the Fire.

Fortunately, there was another way. "Start calculating our two jumps," he

instructed Artoo, keying on the Fire's automatic  weapons  systems.  "No  more

than five minutes each way?we don't want to take any more time with this  than

we have to."

Artoo twittered an acknowledgment, and got to work. "Now, you're clear on

what you're supposed to do?" Luke asked the Veeone as he keyed  the  drive  to

low power and started the Fire moving. There was a convenient clump  of  small

asteroids drifting through in the  darkness  just  ahead  that  would  make  a

perfect hiding place. "I'm going to put the ship in with those rocks; and then

you're going to sit there and pretend to be one of them. Okay?"

The droid gurgled reluctant agreement. "All right," Luke said, easing the

ship up into the asteroids. One of them, about shockball size, bounced lightly

against the hull, and he winced in reaction. The Fire was Mara's  most  prized

possession, and she was more protective of it than even the Veeone was. If  he

dented the hull, or even just scratched the paint, he would never hear the end

of it from her.

He finished his maneuvering with exaggerated care, and managed to get  it

into position without any further collisions.  "Okay,  that's  it,"  he  said,

unstrapping and keying control back to the Veeone. "You've got the code I gave

you?we'll transmit that on our way back so you'll know it's us. Anyone else...

well, don't let the ship shoot at them unless you're fired on first. Not until

we have some idea what's going on down there."

Two minutes later, keeping a wary eye out  for  the  floating  rock  pile

outside, he eased the X-wing out of the Fire's docking  bay  and  headed  into

deep space. Artoo had the course already plotted  in,  and  with  a  burst  of

starlines they were off.

Luke had told him to keep it under five minutes, and the droid had  taken

him  at  his  word.  Two  minutes  after  heading   out,   following   Artoo's

instructions, he dropped the X-wing back out of hyperspace, turned it  around,

and headed back in.

Two minutes after that, they were there.

Artoo whistled softly. "That's the place,  all  right,"  Luke  confirmed,

gazing out at the dark planet hanging in space in front of  them.  "Just  like

the pictures the Starry Ice brought back."

And Mara was down there  somewhere.  Stranded,  maybe  injured,  maybe  a

prisoner.

Or maybe dead.

Pushing that thought firmly away from his mind, Luke stretched out to the

Force.

Mara? Mara, can you hear me?

But there was nothing.

Artoo gave a questioning warble. "I can't sense her," Luke admitted. "But

that doesn't necessarily mean anything. We're still pretty far  out,  and  she

may not be strong enough to reach this far.  She  could  be  asleep,  too?that

would limit her range."

The droid didn't respond. But it wasn't hard to guess that  his  thoughts

were paralleling Luke's.

And there was also the vision Luke had had three and a half weeks ago  at

the Tierfon medical facility. That image of Mara floating lifelessly in a pool

of water...

"Anyway, there's no point in worrying about it," Luke said, pushing  that

vision into the back of his mind as best he could. "Do a  quiet  sensor  scan?

nothing that'll set off their detectors. Or at least, nothing that'll set them

off if they work the way ours do."

There was an acknowledgment, and another question scrolled across the  X-

wing's computer display. "We'll take the same route in  that  she  did,"  Luke

answered. "Down the canyon to the cave where  she  disappeared.  Once  we  get

there, we'll take the X-wing inside and see what happens."

Artoo twittered an uneasy-sounding acknowledgment. Glancing at the course

record Talon Karrde had given him, Luke eased the X-wing  toward  the  planet,

wishing for a moment that Leia were here with him.  If  those  creatures  that

Mara had run into were intelligent, it might take not only Jedi skill but also

diplomatic finesse to deal with them. Finesse  that  Leia  had,  and  that  he

didn't.

He grimaced. On the other hand, they probably  weren't  very  happy  back

home that he'd taken off this way without notice, let alone if he'd  tried  to

bring Leia along with him. No, Leia's diplomatic skills were needed most  back

in the New Republic.

What skills would be needed here he'd find out soon enough.

They were still well outside the planet's atmosphere  when  the  X-wing's

sensors picked up the two alien spacecraft  rising  from  the  surface  toward

them. "So much for stealth and secrecy," Luke murmured,  studying  the  sensor

profiles. They definitely looked like the ship he and  Artoo  had  spotted  on

their way out of the Cavrilhu Pirates' nest in the Kauron asteroid field.

That ship, though, had cut and run before he could get a  close  look  at

it. Now, as this pair rose rapidly toward him, he could  see  that  his  first

impression of the craft had indeed been correct. Roughly three  times  the  X-

wing's size, they were an odd but  strangely  artistic  combination  of  alien

manufacture melded with that of the all-too-familiar TIE  fighter  design.  At

the bow of each ship was a slightly darkened canopy, through  which  he  could

just barely make out a pair of Imperial-style flight helmets.

Artoo whistled pensively.  "Steady,  Artoo,"  Luke  warned.  "It  doesn't

necessarily mean they're allied with the Empire. They might have found  a  TIE

fighter somewhere and borrowed from it."

Artoo's grunt showed his opinion of that one. "All right, fine,  probably

not," Luke said, eyeing the incoming ships. A minute later they were  on  him,

rising slightly above the X-wing and  altering  course  as  they  curved  into

flanking positions on both sides. "You getting weapons readings?"

The droid whistled, and  a  rough  schematic  appeared  on  the  computer

display.  The  ships  were  quite  heavily  armed.  "Great,"  Luke   muttered,

stretching out with the Force to try to get a feel for the situation. But  all

he could detect were the basic  emotional  backgrounds  of  the  three  beings

aboard each ship. Alien minds  thinking  alien  thoughts,  with  no  point  of

reference for him to latch on to.

On the other hand, their flanking positions were more  suited  to  escort

than attack. More importantly,  Luke's  Jedi  senses  weren't  indicating  any

immediate danger. For the moment, at  least,  they  were  probably  relatively

safe.

And it was time to start acting friendly. "Let's see if we  can  talk  to

them," he suggested, reaching for the comm switch.

The aliens beat him to it. "Ka sba'ma'ti  orf  k'ralan,"  a  surprisingly

melodious  voice  said  in  Luke's  ear.  "Kra'miral   sumt   tara'kliso   mor

Mitth'raw'nuruodo sur pra'cin'zisk mor'kor'lae."

Luke felt his stomach tighten. "Artoo?" he asked.

The droid warbled a worried-sounding confirmation: it was indeed the same

transmission Karrde and Mara had picked up from the alien ship that had buzzed

Booster Terrik's Errant Venture. The transmission, according to Mara, that had

included Thrawn's little-known complete name.

Grimacing, Luke keyed his comm. "This is New Republic X-wing AA-589,"  he

said.

If the aliens didn't speak Basic, of course, this wasn't going to do  any

good.

Still, it wouldn't do to just sit here and ignore them. "I'm looking  for

a friend who may have crashed on your world."

There was a short pause. Watching out the canopy, Luke had  the  distinct

impression that the two alien ships had pulled in just a hair closer  to  him.

"New Republic X-wing," the voice came  again,  this  time  in  quite  passable

Basic. "You will follow us to the surface.  You  will  not  deviate  from  our

guidance. If you do, you will be destroyed."

"I understand," Luke said. There was a click from the comm; and  suddenly

the two alien ships dropped toward the surface. Luke was ready, following  and

sliding quickly back into his place in the formation. "Show-offs," he muttered

under his breath.

He had spoken too soon. A second later the two ships again twisted  away,

this time curving slightly up and then hard to starboard. Artoo  screeched  as

the portside ship shot uncomfortably close over his  head,  the  tone  of  his

displeasure rising sharply as Luke cut the X-wing hard over to again match the

maneuver. He had barely settled back into his place in the  center  when  they

did it again, veering to portside this time.

Artoo grunted. "I don't know," Luke told him as he  caught  up  with  his

escort again. "Maybe there's some kind of defense system they've  got  set  up

that requires a specific approach if you don't want to get blasted.  Like  the

pirates had at their asteroid base, remember?"

The obvious point scrolled down the computer display:  according  to  the

Starry Ice's record, Mara  hadn't  followed  any  such  complicated  approach.

"Maybe they set it up in response to her sneaking in," Luke suggested. "Or  we

could be coming in over a different part of the planet than she did?we haven't

been able to pick up a geographic match yet."

Artoo grunted. "Or they could be trying to create an excuse to open fire,

" Luke agreed grimly. "Though why they'd think they'd need one I don't know."

The alien ships performed three more sets of maneuvers on the  way  down,

none of which Luke had any particular trouble matching. But  as  they  reached

the upper atmosphere they seemed to tire of the game, settling  into  a  hard,

straight drive toward the western horizon. Luke stayed in formation, splitting

his attention between the ships and the ground far below, and  stretching  out

to the Force for any signs of trouble.

They were twenty minutes into their drive, and Artoo had finally  made  a

match between the topography below and the  Starry  Ice's  records,  when  the

familiar tingling began. "We've got trouble, Artoo," Luke told the droid. "I'm

not sure what kind yet, but it's definitely trouble. Give me  a  quick  status

rundown."

He ran an eye over the display as the status report appeared. There  were

no other air - or spacecraft registering on the X-wing's sensors,  nothing  in

their  escort's  power  usage  or  weapons  systems  that   indicated   attack

preparation, and the X-wing's own systems were reading fully  operative.  "How

far to the fortress Mara found?" he asked.

Artoo beeped: less than fifteen minutes at their current speed. "Sometime

in the next ten minutes, I'd guess," Luke told him. "Be ready." Taking a  deep

breath, settling his hands on the controls, he consciously relaxed his muscles

and immersed himself in the Force.

They were registering six minutes to the fortress, and  the  canyon  Mara

had flown down had just appeared paralleling them on the distant horizon, when

it finally happened. In perfect unison the two  escort  ships  threw  a  quick

spurt of power  to  their  forward  thrusters,  dropping  from  flanking  into

following positions behind the X-wing as their velocities blipped down.

And from nozzles nestled half-hidden beneath their cockpits spat a deadly

salvo of blue fire.

But their target was no longer  there.  An  instant  before  the  aliens'

thrusters had fired, Luke had caught the subtle disturbance in the Force;  and

by the time their weapons flashed he had thrown the X-wing into a sharp climb,

curving up and around in a tight loop that would take  him  back  around  into

attack position behind his attackers.

Or at least, that was the normal endpoint of  the  maneuver.  This  time,

though, Luke had other plans. Instead of pulling out of his  loop  behind  the

aliens, he held the X-wing's nose pointed toward the ground for an extra  pair

of heartbeats.

Then, at what seemed like the last second,  he  twisted  the  starfighter

into a stomach-wrenching, twin-rotational turn. An  instant  later  they  were

running bare meters above the  ground  on  a  vector  perpendicular  to  their

original course.

"What are they doing?" Luke called, not daring to take his eyes away from

the landscape long enough to look for himself.

The droid's warning screech and a sudden tingling in the Force  were  his

answer.

From behind came another volley of blue fire, most of it going wide but a

few shots splattering off his rear deflector shield. "Any new  friends  joined

them?" he called.

Artoo warbled a negative. That was something, anyway. Still, those  ships

were good and the crews clearly knew what they were doing. At two-to-one odds,

Luke was going to have his hands full. Especially since?

Artoo twittered an urgent question. "No, leave the S-foils as they  are,"

Luke told him. "We're not going to shoot back."

The droid's question was a disbelieving whistle. "Because we  don't  know

who they are or why they're here," Luke told him, eyes  measuring  the  ground

ahead. Just  beyond  Mara's  canyon  the  terrain  abruptly  became  something

shattered-looking, broken into granite-walled  cliffs  and  deep,  sharp-edged

crevices. "I don't want to kill any of them until I know  who  and  what  they

are."

Artoo's rejoinder became another screech as the latest enemy salvo blew a

thin layer of metal from the top of the starboard S-foil. "Don't worry,  we're

almost there," Luke  soothed  him,  risking  a  quick  glance  at  his  status

displays. No serious  damage  yet,  but  that  wouldn't  last  long  once  the

attackers got a little closer.

Which meant that his best hope was to keep that from happening.

Behind him, Artoo whistled  suspiciously.  "That's  exactly  where  we're

going," Luke confirmed. They were nearly to the shattered landscape  now;  and

off to portside he spotted a likely looking gorge. "Oh,  relax?it's  no  worse

than some of the other things we've pulled off," he  added,  twisting  the  X-

wing's nose toward the gorge. "Anyway, we haven't got a choice.  Hang  on?here

we go."

Beggar's Canyon on Tatooine had been a tricky but familiar  obstacle  run

of twists and corners and switchbacks. The Death  Star  trench  had  been  far

straighter, but with  the  addition  of  turbolaser  fire  and  attacking  TIE

fighters to keep it interesting. Now, the Nirauan cliffs took the challenge  a

step farther by adding unpredictable  curves  and  breakpoints,  with  varying

widths and depths, jutting rocks, and clinging tree vines.

The newly signed Rebel recruit at Yavin would have recognized  the  risks

involved.

Even the cocky  adolescent  on  Tatooine  would  have  hesitated  at  the

stupidity of tackling such an unknown  labyrinth  at  such  high  speeds.  The

seasoned Jedi Luke had become, though, knew he wouldn't have  a  problem  with

it.

He was mostly right. The ship sliced through the first series  of  twists

with ease, Luke's piloting skill and prescience in the  Force  combining  with

the X-wing's innate maneuverability to leave the alien ships  far  behind.  He

shot through an open valley, changed direction toward a new canyon?

And nearly lost control as a burst of blue fire raked across the portside

fuselage.

"It's all right," he called back to Artoo, feeling a flash  of  annoyance

with himself as the X-wing plunged again  into  the  relative  safety  of  his

chosen ravine. This had happened before: focusing his attention?and the Force?

too narrowly in one  direction  had  a  tendency  to  blind  him  to  anything

happening outside that cone. Clearly, at least one of  the  alien  pilots  had

been smart enough to abandon the chase and fly up over the maze  to  wait  for

the target to show himself.

But the gambit had failed; and if the terrain cooperated, he wouldn't get

another chance at it. The X-wing  emerged  into  a  second  valley,  this  one

smaller than the first, and veered off into another ravine. Letting the  Force

guide his hands, Luke watched the cliffs around  him,  looking  for  just  the

right place...

And then, suddenly, there it was. On  both  sides  of  the  X-wing  steep

cliffs rose upward, one of them angling sharply toward the other until only  a

tiny ribbon of daylight showed at the top between them. Lines and clusters  of

drab and scraggly bushes clung to various parts of the  craggy  rock,  with  a

thick matting of brown bushes and squat trees covering the canyon floor below.

Ahead and behind, the canyon curved  sharply  to  either  side,  leaving  this

center part as an isolated bubble surrounded by rock.

It was the perfect place to go to ground.

Artoo didn't squeal or screech as Luke swung the starfighter around in  a

hundred-eighty-degree skid in a classic  smuggler's  reverse.  Probably,  Luke

decided as he fed power to the thrusters, because the  little  droid  was  too

busy holding on for dear life.

For a handful of seconds the X-wing bucked beneath  him,  and  he  fought

hard for stability as it tried to flip out of  control.  Outside,  the  canyon

walls shooting past began to slow, and as they did so  he  eased  off  on  the

drive and keyed in the repulsorlifts. The deceleration pressure  crushing  him

against the seat cushions faded; spinning the X-wing around  to  face  forward

again, he threw a quick look around. Directly ahead, a pair of squat but bushy

trees rose up from the canyon floor, straddling what  appeared  to  be  a  dry

creek bed, their trunks just the right distance apart. Killing the last of the

X-wing's forward velocity, he dropped its nose down to  slide  neatly  between

the tree trunks.

"There," he said, running  the  last  steps  of  the  landing  cycle  and

shutting down the repulsorlifts. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

There was a weak and slightly shaky whistle from behind him.  Apparently,

Artoo hadn't found his voice yet.

Smiling tightly, Luke popped the  canopy,  wincing  at  the  high-pitched

scratching  sounds  as  dozens  of  thorn-edged  leaves  scraped  across   the

transparisteel, and slid off his helmet and gloves.

The air flooding in from outside was cool and smelled vaguely mossy.  For

a long minute he listened,  stretching  out  with  Force-enhanced  senses  for

sounds of pursuit. But there was nothing except  the  normal  sounds  of  wind

rustling through the leaves and the distant chirps of avians  or  insects.  "I

think we've lost them," he told Artoo. "At least  for  now.  You  figured  out

where we are?"

Artoo beeped, still sounding a little dazed, and a map  appeared  on  the

computer display.

Luke studied it. Not too bad, but not too good either. They were no  more

than ten kilometers from Mara's cave, but most of the territory  between  here

and there consisted of the same kind of narrow gorges and rocky cliffs  they'd

just been flying through. At least a full day's travel, probably two, possibly

three.

On the other hand, the very roughness  of  the  ground  would  give  them

better cover than they could reasonably have asked for. All in all,  a  pretty

fair trade.

But it wouldn't be much of a trade if the aliens found them  before  they

even got started. "Come on," he said, easing out of the  cockpit  and  rolling

out to the ground. The attempt to avoid the leaf  thorns  was  only  partially

successful, but only a couple of them actually drew blood. "Let's get the pack

sorted out and get out of here."

It was the work of a few minutes to break out  the  camo-net  Karrde  had

sent along and  to  pull  it  snugly  over  the  X-wing.  Then,  as  an  extra

precaution, he cut up some of the smaller  bushes  and  tree  limbs  with  his

lightsaber and scattered them on top of the net. It wasn't perfect, especially

at close range, but it was the best he could do in the available time.

Karrde's people had also put his survival pack together,  assembling  the

supplies and loading them aboard the X-wing while  Luke  hurried  through  the

datawork necessary for getting off Cejansij. And as Luke had  come  to  expect

from the smuggler's organization over the years, they'd done a first-rate  job

of it.

Split into two separate carrypacks, the supplies  included  ration  bars,

water filter/bottles, medpacs, glow rods, a good supply of syntherope, a spare

blaster, a survival tent with bedroll, and even a small selection of low-yield

grenades.

"I'm surprised they didn't try to cram a landspeeder in," Luke grunted as

he hoisted one of the packs experimentally onto his shoulders.  It  was  heavy

enough, but the weight had been well distributed and would be reasonably  easy

to carry.

"I guess we'll have to leave the other pack  here.  You  ready  to  do  a

little climbing?"

Artoo warbled  questioningly,  his  dome  swiveling  to  peer  first  one

direction down the canyon and then the other. "No, that's where they'll expect

us to come out," Luke told him. He pointed upward toward  one  of  the  cliffs

towering over them. "That's our route, up there."

The droid swiveled his dome again, whistling skittishly as he leaned  way

back to look up. "Relax?we won't have to go all the  way  to  the  top,"  Luke

calmed him. "See that gap about two-thirds of the way up? If I read the aerial

pictures right, that should lead into a cut that'll take us the  rest  of  the

way to the top."

Artoo warbled forlornly, looking back and forth along the  canyon  again.

"No, Artoo, we can't go that way," Luke told him firmly. "And  we  don't  have

time to argue the point. Even if those ships can't get in there, they may have

smaller ones back at the fortress. And they can always come in on  foot,  too.

You want to be sitting around when they get here?"

The droid beeped  emphatically.  Swiveling  himself  around,  he  started

bumping determinedly along the dry creek bed toward  the  base  of  the  cliff

below the gap Luke had pointed out.

Smiling, Luke gave his pack one final settling  shrug.  Then,  stretching

out with the Force, he lifted Artoo high enough off the ground  to  clear  the

undergrowth and headed toward the cliff.

* * *

As it turned out, the climb had looked more daunting than it really  was.

Though certainly steep enough, the wall wasn't nearly the impossibly  vertical

slope that it had seemed from the canyon floor.  Hand  -  and  footholds  were

plentiful; the whole cliff face seemed to be dotted  with  narrow  ledges  and

small caves, and the bushes and vines provided sturdy handholds as well.

The only problematic part was Artoo, but even that quickly settled into a

more or less comfortable routine. Finding a secure place to stand, Luke  would

use the Force to lift the droid up past him to a narrow ledge or  conveniently

spaced pair of caves, hold him in place while using the syntherope to lash him

to the nearest bushes, then climb past him  to  the  next  convenient  resting

point and repeat.

Artoo didn't care for any part of the procedure, of course. Midway up the

cliff, though, he at least stopped complaining about it.

They were almost to the gap, and Luke was once again catching up  to  the

point where he'd anchored Artoo, when he heard the faint voice.

He stopped, one hand gripping a lumpy vine, and listened. But  there  was

nothing but the distant insect chirping he'd been hearing since  they  landed.

Running through his Jedi sensory-enhancement techniques, he stretched out  his

hearing; but though the chirps became louder and more  varied,  the  voice  he

thought he'd heard wasn't there.

There was a loud squeal from above him: Artoo, whistling  softly  in  his

enhanced hearing. "I thought I heard something," he murmured back,  the  words

booming in his head. Hastily, he eased his hearing back  to  normal.  "It  was

like a voice?"

He broke off at Artoo's startled twitter. "What is it?" he asked, looking

up.

The droid was facing down and along the cliff;  turning  his  head,  Luke

tracked along his gaze?

And froze. Perched on a thorn-leafed bush not three  meters  away  was  a

small, slack-winged brown-gray creature.

Watching him.

"Take it easy,"  Luke  soothed  Artoo,  taking  a  moment  to  study  the

creature. About thirty centimeters long from head to talons,  it  was  covered

with smooth-looking skin. Its folded wings were more of the  same,  though  it

was hard to guess their size, and arched slightly over in a way that  reminded

Luke of hunched shoulders.

The head was proportionally small and streamlined, with a  pair  of  dark

eyes nestled beneath fleshy folds and two horizontal slashes beneath them. The

upper slash was undulating with the steady rhythm of  respiration,  while  the

lower was pressed into a tight slit. A pair of  segmented,  wide-taloned  feet

gripped the bush it was perched on, apparently not bothered in  the  least  by

the sharp thorns.

The overall effect was like something halfway  between  a  mynock  and  a

preying makthier, and he wondered  if  it  was  related  to  either  of  those

species.

Artoo gave another warble, this one wary. "I don't think it means us  any

harm," Luke assured him, still watching  the  creature.  "I  don't  sense  any

danger from it.

And we're a little big for a snack for something that size."

Unless, of course, they hunted in packs. Still watching the creature,  he

stretched out with the Force, searching for others of the species. There  were

definitely more of them in the canyon, but most seemed to be fairly distant?

The lower slit on the creature's face opened, revealing twin rows of tiny

sharp teeth, and emitted a loud chirp.

Who are you?

Luke blinked in surprise. There was the  voice  he  thought  he'd  heard,

except that this time it was clear enough to understand. But had it come from?

? "What?" he asked.

The creature chirped again. Who are you?

He was right: it was the creature who'd spoken.

Only it hadn't spoken. Not really. But then how had Luke understood??

And then,  abruptly,  he  understood.  "I'm  Luke  Skywalker,"  he  said,

stretching toward the creature  with  the  Force.  "Jedi  Knight  of  the  New

Republic. Who are you?"

The creature emitted a short series of chirps. What do you do here,  Jedi

Knight Sky Walker?

"I'm looking for a friend," Luke said. His guess had been right: while he

couldn't understand the creature's actual chirping language,  he  was  pulling

the essence of the communication from its mind via  the  Force.  An  extremely

rare event, in his experience, and it probably implied the creatures  were  at

least marginally Force-sensitive. "She landed near here nearly two  weeks  ago

and then disappeared.

Do you know where she is?"

The creature seemed to shy back a bit. It  fluffed  its  wings  partially

open, resettled them across its back. It chirped again?Who is this friend?

"Her name is Mara Jade," Luke said.

Is she another Jedi Knight?

"Sort of," Luke hedged. Mara had dropped by his Jedi academy occasionally

over the past eight years, but she'd never stayed long enough to complete  her

training. Actually, there were times Luke wondered if she'd ever  truly  begun

it.

"Do you know where she is?"

The wings fluffed again as the creature chirped. I know nothing.

"Really," Luke said, letting his tone cool just a  bit.  He  didn't  even

need the Force for this one; he'd watched Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin  pull  this

trick enough times to recognize guilty knowledge when he saw it.  "What  if  I

told you a Jedi can always tell when someone's lying?"

From behind him came a loud and authoritative chirp. Leave the young  one

alone.

Luke turned his head. Perched on the bushes and craggy rocks on the other

side of the cliff face were three more of the creatures. They were each  twice

as big as the first one; but even without the  size  differential  the  subtle

differences between adult and young were instantly apparent. "Your pardon," he

said to them.

"I wasn't trying to intimidate him. Perhaps you can help me in my  search

for my friend."

One of the creatures spread his wings and gave a  short  hop  to  a  bush

closer to Luke, twisting his head one way and then the other  as  if  studying

the intruder out of each eye individually. You are not one of the others.  Who

are you?

"I think you know," Luke said, a quiet sense  prompting  him  to  play  a

hunch. "Why don't you tell me instead who you are?"

The creature seemed to consider. I am Hunter Of Winds. I bargain for this

nesting of the Qom Qae.

"In the name of the New Republic I greet you, Hunter Of Winds," Luke said

gravely. "I presume you know of the New Republic?"

The elder Qom Qae fluffed his wings exactly the same way  the  young  one

had. I have heard. What is the New Republic to us?

"I suppose that depends on what you want  it  to  be,"  Luke  said.  "But

that's a matter for diplomats and bargainers to discuss. I'm here  to  help  a

friend."

Hunter  Of  Winds  chirped  decisively.  We  have  no  knowledge  of  any

strangers.

But we do, the younger Qom Qae chirped from  behind  Luke.  The  Qom  Jha

spoke of?

Hunter Of Winds cut him off with a squawk.  Is  your  name  Seeker  After

Stupidity?

he demanded pointedly. Be silent.

"Perhaps you've merely  forgotten,"  Luke  suggested  diplomatically.  "A

nesting bargainer must have many other matters to think about, after all."

Hunter Of Winds fluffed his wings. What happens outside this nesting does

not properly concern us. Go to another nesting of the Qom Qae, or to  the  Qom

Jha if you dare. Perhaps they will help you.

"All right," Luke said. "Will you guide me to them?"

They are outside this nesting, Hunter Of Winds chirped. They are not  our

concern.

"I see," Luke said. "Tell me, Hunter Of Winds, have you ever had a friend

in danger?"

The Qom Qae spread his wings, his two  companions  following  suit.  This

conversation is ended. Young one: come.

He leaped out from his bush, gliding away toward the canyon  floor  below

on outstretched wings, his two companions following. Turning  back,  Luke  saw

the young Qom Qae follow them.

Artoo grunted contemptuously. "Don't blame them too much," Luke told  him

with a sigh. "There may be cultural or political entanglements here  we  don't

know about."

He resumed his climb. "Or they may just be wary of  getting  involved  in

someone else's fight," he added. "We've certainly seen enough of that over the

years."

Five minutes later they'd reached the gap. Luke had been right:  the  cut

continued upward toward the top of the cliff at a much  more  leisurely  angle

while still keeping them under tree cover the whole way. "Perfect," Luke said,

peering up along it. "Let's get up to the top and see where we go from  here."

Collecting the syntherope, he started to coil it?

And suddenly Artoo emitted a startled squawk.

"What is it?" Luke demanded, grabbing reflexively for his  lightsaber  as

he spun around. There was no danger around them that he could  see  or  sense.

"Artoo, what is it?" he asked again, turning his attention to the droid.

Artoo was gazing back down into the valley along  the  way  they'd  come,

moaning mournfully. Frowning, Luke followed along the droid's line of sight?

And felt his breath catch in his throat. Down on the valley floor,  their

X-wing had vanished.

"No," Luke breathed, gazing hard at the browns and grays down there.  His

first, hopeful thought was that his camouflage job had simply been better than

he realized and that the starfighter was still right where they'd left it. But

a moment of careful searching with Jedi-enhanced senses put that hope  quietly

to rest.

The X-wing was indeed gone.

Artoo warbled anxiously. "It's all right," Luke soothed. "It's all right.

"

And to his own mild surprise, he found he actually meant it. The X-wing's

disappearing act was frustrating and annoying; but oddly enough, there was  no

sense of danger or fear accompanying it. Not even any serious concern, despite

the fact that the loss of their ship meant no chance for a quick escape should

the situation warrant it.

A prodding from the Force? A sense, perhaps, that the X-wing  was  merely

misplaced and not actually lost?

Unfortunately, he realized soberly, it could just as easily be a prodding

in the opposite direction. That the loss of the ship didn't matter because  he

would not be leaving this world alive anyway.

Unbidden, an image of Yoda rose from his  memory:  the  old  Jedi  Master

sighing with weariness as he settled onto his bed  for  the  last  time.  Luke

could remember his gut-churning fear at Yoda's  frailness;  could  recall  the

exact tone of his own voice as he protested to Yoda  that  he  must  not  die.

Strong am I with the Force, Yoda had gently reproved his student. But not that

strong. Twilight is upon me and soon night will  fall.  That  is  the  way  of

things... the way of the Force.

Luke took a deep breath. Obi-Wan had died, Yoda had died, and someday  it

would be his turn to face that same journey. And if this was the  place  where

that journey would begin, so be it. He was a Jedi, and would face it as one.

In the meantime, the reason he had come here had not changed. "Nothing we

can do about it now,"  he  told  Artoo,  turning  away  from  the  valley  and

returning to the task of coiling the syntherope. "Let's get to the top and see

where we go from there."

From directly above came a soft chirp. There are better ways to pass.

Luke looked up. The young Qom Qae was back, hovering on some updraft he'd

found and gazing down at them. "Are you offering to help us?" he asked.

The Qom Qae bent one of his wings slightly, the change  in  air  pressure

sending him sidling over to the cliff face beside Luke. He caught one  of  the

bushes in his talons as he reached it, folding his wings behind  him.  I  will

help you, he chirped. The Qom Jha have said another has arrived  and  is  with

them. I will take you there.

"Thank you," Luke said, wondering if he should ask about his  missing  X-

wing. But after the young Qom Qae's skittishness earlier it probably would  be

better to leave any interrogations for later. "May I ask why you're willing to

take the risk?"

I am known to some of the younger Qom Jha, he  chirped.  I  do  not  fear

them.

"I'm not necessarily talking about the Qom Jha," Luke  said,  wanting  to

make sure the young alien genuinely understood the risks. "The  others  Hunter

Of Winds spoke of may also try to stop us."

I understand that. The alien fluffed his wings. But you asked  Hunter  Of

Winds if he had ever had a friend in danger. I have.

Luke smiled. "I understand," he said.  "And  I'm  honored  to  have  your

assistance.

I'm Luke Skywalker, as I said, and this is my droid, Artoo.  What's  your

name?"

The Qom Qae spread his wings and made a short hop to a bush in  front  of

them. I am too young yet to have a name. I am called merely Child Of Winds.

"Child Of Winds," Luke repeated, eyeing him thoughtfully.  "You  wouldn't

by any chance be related to Hunter Of Winds, would you?"

He is my sire, Child Of Winds chirped. It is indeed true about the wisdom

of the Jedi Knights.

Luke suppressed a smile. "Sometimes," he said. "But we should get  moving

now.

Along the way, perhaps you can tell me more about your people."

I would be honored, Child Of Winds said,  spreading  his  wings  eagerly.

Come, I will show you the path.

CHAPTER

3

The communications blister on the New Republic Dreadnaught Peregrine  was

something of an anachronism among modern warships, a  throwback  to  the  pre-

Clone Wars design philosophy that had prevailed at the time the Peregrine  and

its Katana-fleet sister ships had been built. Not only was the  ship's  entire

primary antenna array located in the blister, but  so  were  the  complex  and

delicate encryption/decryption computers.

The handful of other Katana-fleet  Dreadnaughts  still  in  New  Republic

service  had  had  their  comm  blisters  extensively  renovated,   with   the

encrypt/decrypt equipment moved inside into a more sheltered area between  the

bridge and Intelligence ops. But somehow, no matter how often  the  renovation

procedure was talked about, the Peregrine always seemed to  slip  through  the

cracks in the work schedule.

Wedge Antilles had wondered about that on occasion. There was,  he  knew,

still some bad blood between General Garm Bel Iblis  and  a  few  of  the  New

Republic's upper echelon, dating back to Bel Iblis's years of running his  own

private war against the Empire after his falling-out with  Mon  Mothma.  Wedge

had always suspected the lack of renovation on this, the  general's  flagship,

was tied to that animosity.

It wasn't until Wedge and Rogue Squadron had been permanently assigned to

Bel Iblis that he'd learned the truth. Intelligence sections,  Bel  Iblis  had

explained to him, were crowded and  public  places,  and  having  a  decrypted

signal piped to bridge or command room gave abundant  opportunity  for  anyone

with a  modicum  of  skill  and  a  surplus  of  curiosity  to  tap  into  the

conversation. A comm blister, in contrast, was about as isolated  a  place  as

one could find aboard a warship; and having the encrypt/decrypt computer close

at hand meant that the message began  and  ended  right  there.  Whenever  any

really private transmissions were due, that was where  Bel  Iblis  was  to  be

found.

He and Wedge were there now. At Admiral Ackbar's personal request.

"I understand your concerns, General Bel Iblis," Ackbar  said,  his  face

filling the comm display, his huge eyes swiveling around to take in  Wedge  as

well. "And I do not disagree with your assessment.  But  I  must  nevertheless

turn down your request."

"I strongly urge you to reconsider, Admiral," Bel Iblis said stiffly.  "I

appreciate the political situation on Coruscant, but that can't be allowed  to

blind us to the purely military considerations here."

The Mon Cal's lip tendrils seemed to stiffen. "Unfortunately,  there  are

no longer any pure military considerations involving  the  Caamas  issue,"  he

rumbled.

"Political and ethical questions have pervaded everything."

"Unusual combination," Wedge murmured under his breath.

One of Ackbar's eyes swiveled briefly toward him before turning  back  to

Bel Iblis. "The final line of the situation is that any serious  New  Republic

presence over Bothawui at this point would be  construed  as  support  of  the

Bothans against their critics."

"It would be nothing of the sort," Bel Iblis objected.  "It  would  be  a

voice of calm and reason in the middle of a very dangerous flash point.  There

are sixty-eight warships here already, all of them  engaged  in  a  twelve-way

glaring contest with each other, all of them ready  to  jump  if  any  of  the

others so much as sneeze.

There has got to be someone here who can mediate any problems before they

collapse into all-out war."

Ackbar sighed, a darkly rasping sound. "I agree with you  wholeheartedly,

General.

But the High Council and Senate are in ultimate authority here, and  they

have come to a different conclusion."

Bel Iblis threw a baleful glance  at  Wedge.  "I  trust  you'll  continue

trying to change their minds."

"Yes indeed," Ackbar said. "But whether I am successful or not, you  will

not be the one chosen for the dubious honor of  mediator.  President  Gavrisom

has already selected another task for you."

"More important than keeping the peace over Bothawui?"

"Far more important," Ackbar assured  him.  "If  Bothawui  is  the  flash

point, then it is the Caamas Document which is the spark."

Wedge felt a sudden premonition  hit  him.  Could  Gavrisom  actually  be

considering??

He  was.  "President  Gavrisom  has  therefore  concluded  that  the  New

Republic's best chance of defusing the controversy is to obtain an intact copy

of the  document,"  Ackbar  continued.  "To  that  end,  you  are  to  proceed

immediately to Ord Trasi, where you will  begin  assembling  a  force  for  an

information raid on the Imperial Ubiqtorate base at Yaga Minor."

Wedge stole a furtive glance  at  Bel  Iblis.  The  general's  expression

hadn't changed, but there was just enough of a tightness in his jaw to show he

was thinking along the same lines Wedge was. "With all due respect,  Admiral,"

Bel Iblis said, "President Gavrisom must be joking. Yaga Minor is possibly the

most heavily defended system in Imperial or New  Republic  space.  And  that's

just considering a straight-line attack, where it doesn't matter  which  enemy

positions come under fire. Having to keep the enemy data  system  intact  adds

five extra layers of difficulty to the whole operation."

"The President is well aware of the challenges  involved,"  Ackbar  said,

his voice even more gravelly than usual. "I'll be honest: I  don't  like  this

any more than you do. But it has to be tried. If  war  breaks  out  over  this

issue, we don't have enough ships or troops to  either  force  or  maintain  a

peace. The entire New Republic could conceivably  collapse  into  total  civil

war."

Bel Iblis looked at Wedge again, turned back to the display. "Yes,  sir,"

he said.

"Unfortunately, I'm forced to agree with your assessment."

"I may also say," Ackbar added, "that if there's  any  way  this  can  be

done, you are the one who can do it."

Bel Iblis smiled wryly. "Thank you for your confidence, Admiral. I'll  do

my best."

"Good," Ackbar said. "You and your  task  force  are  to  leave  Bothawui

immediately for Ord Trasi. I'll be quietly sending you the rest of your  ships

over the next two weeks, at which time I expect you  to  have  a  battle  plan

formulated and ready to go."

"Understood," Bel Iblis said. "What about special equipment or units?"

"Anything the New Republic can supply  is  yours,"  Ackbar  assured  him.

"Tell me what you need, and I'll have it sent to you."

Bel Iblis nodded. "We will of course need  total  secrecy  on  this,"  he

warned. "If even a hint leaks to the Empire, what little chance we  have  will

be gone."

"The secrecy will be complete," Ackbar  promised.  "I've  already  set  a

cover story in motion which should convince any Imperial spies that the  ships

are secretly being assembled in the outer regions of the  Kothlis  system  for

the defense of Bothawui, should that become necessary."

"That should work," Bel Iblis said. "Provided they don't head to  Kothlis

and take a look for themselves."

"Two Rendili Space Docks have already been moved to the Kothlis  system,"

Ackbar said. "They'll be equipped with dummy ships carrying the proper IDs and

markings for the benefit of any Imperials who happen by."

"Interesting." Bel Iblis cocked an eyebrow.  "So  this  isn't  just  some

slice-of-the-moment idea Gavrisom came up with last night. This  has  been  in

the works for some time now."

The Mon Cal nodded his massive head. "The preparations were begun the day

after the riot at the Combined Clans Building on  Bothawui,"  he  said.  "With

General Solo's implication in that incident, the President knew  it  would  no

longer be possible for the New Republic government to make any overt political

moves without our motives coming under fire."

"I understand the reasoning involved," Bel Iblis said heavily. "Ord Trasi

it is, then."

"A liaison team from my office will be waiting there  when  you  arrive,"

Ackbar said. "Good luck, General."

"Thank you, Admiral. Bel Iblis out."

The general touched a key, and the  transmission  ended.  "Which  doesn't

mean I entirely agree with it," he commented under his  breath  to  the  blank

display as he turned to Wedge. "Well, General. Comments?"

Wedge shook his head. "I was on an information raid once,  back  when  we

were trying to get data on Grand Admiral Makati out of the Boudolayz library,"

he said. "I think the bit-pushers  estimated  afterward  that  we  were  about

eighty percent successful. And that was Boudolayz, not Yaga Minor."

"Yes, I've read the reports on that raid," Bel Iblis said,  stroking  his

mustache thoughtfully. "This is definitely not going to be easy."

Wedge grimaced. "Meanwhile, Bothawui keeps  collecting  warships  like  a

floodlight collects night insects. Eventually, sir, someone's going to try  to

take advantage of that."

"I agree," Bel Iblis said. "Which is why I asked you to come up here with

me this afternoon."

"Oh?" Wedge said, regarding him closely. "Then you knew this was coming?"

"Not the Yaga Minor raid specifically," Bel Iblis  said.  "But  I  had  a

feeling Coruscant would turn down my request to stay here and keep  order.  It

also occurred to me that if my task force was ordered away?as  we  now  indeed

have been?that Rogue Squadron isn't technically part of that task force."

Wedge frowned. "You've lost me, General. I thought we'd been  permanently

attached to you."

"To me, yes," Bel Iblis agreed. "But not to my task force.  It's  a  fine

but very important technical distinction."

"I'll take your word for it," Wedge said, trying without success to  sift

confirmation of that point from his own memory of the New Republic's  military

regs. "So what does that mean?"

Bel Iblis swiveled the encrypt station chair around  and  sat  down.  "It

means I agree with you that someone is likely to take advantage of this mess,"

he said, folding his hands  in  his  lap.  "Possibly  this  shadowy  Vengeance

organization that keeps throwing riots and demanding the Bothans  pay  through

the snout for their part in the destruction of Caamas."

"Yes," Wedge said slowly as a sudden thought  hit  him.  "And  since  the

Bothan contribution to that  attack  was  to  sabotage  the  Caamas  planetary

shields...?"

Bel Iblis nodded. "Very good. Yes, my guess is someone's going to try  to

take out Bothawui's shields."

Wedge whistled softly. "Do you think that's even  possible?  The  Bothans

are supposed to have one of the best shield systems in the galaxy."

"They did once, back at the  height  of  the  Empire,"  Bel  Iblis  said.

"Whether they've kept it up I don't know. But of course an enemy wouldn't have

to take down the entire grid to do serious damage. Dropping  the  shield  just

over Drev'starn would open up a hole you could pour a lot of turbolaser damage

through."

"Yes," Wedge murmured. "Trouble is, it wouldn't be just the Bothans who'd

get hammered."

"That is indeed the problem," Bel Iblis agreed soberly. "At  last  count,

there were over three hundred  megacorporations  with  their  headquarters  on

Bothawui, plus thousands of smaller companies and at least  fifty  pledge  and

commodity exchanges."

Wedge nodded. It wouldn't exactly mean universal economic chaos  if  they

were hit, but it would add a considerable degree of extra anger and resentment

to the stew already heating up out there.

And with all those warships trying to stare each other down overhead,  it

might do considerably more than just heat the stew. "What do you  want  me  to

do?"

Bel Iblis seemed to be studying his face. "I want you to go down  to  the

surface and make sure that doesn't happen."

Wedge  had  had  a  sneaking  suspicion  that  was  the  direction   this

conversation was going. It came as something of a shock just the same. "All by

myself?" he asked.

"Or do you think I might need the rest of Rogue Squadron, too?"

Bel Iblis smiled. "Relax, Wedge, it's not as bad as it sounds," he  said.

"I'm not expecting you to stand in front of the Drev'starn generator  dome,  a

blaster in each hand, and hold off the Third  Imperial  Heavy  Armor.  So  far

Vengeance has shown  more  trickery  and  subterfuge  than  brute  force;  and

trickery and subterfuge are things a couple of clever X-wing pilots  ought  to

have a good chance of spotting."

So the proposed scout party was up  to  two  now,  Wedge  noted,  thereby

doubling their chances of rooting out this  theoretical  splinter  in  a  sand

hill. "Did you have anyone in particular in mind as the second  clever  X-wing

pilot?"

"Of course," Bel Iblis said. "Commander Horn."

"I see," Wedge said between suddenly stiff lips. A search  for  a  hidden

saboteur...

and Bel Iblis had immediately come up with Corran Horn. Could he  somehow

have deduced Corran's carefully hidden Jedi skills? "Why him?"

Bel Iblis's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Because  his  father-in-law  is  a

smuggler," he said. "He's bound to have a network of  contacts  Horn  will  be

able to access."

"Ah," Wedge said, relaxing a bit. "I hadn't thought about that."

"That's why I'm a senior general," Bel Iblis said  dryly.  "You'd  better

get below and give Horn the good news. You heard Ackbar?I only have  a  couple

of weeks to pull all this together, and I'll want you back with  the  squadron

when we hit Yaga Minor."

"We'll do what we can," Wedge promised. "You want us to take one  of  the

Peregrine's unmarked shuttles?"

Bel Iblis nodded. "X-wings would be  a  little  conspicuous.  Leave  your

uniforms, too, but take your military IDs in case you have  to  pull  rank  on

some bureaucrat.

I'll let you know when I want you at Ord Trasi."

"Understood," Wedge said.

"Good," Bel Iblis said. "I'm going to stay up here for  a  few  minutes?I

can transmit to the other commanders from here as  well  as  I  can  from  the

bridge or my office. Ackbar said immediately, though, so as soon as the  other

ships are ready, we go. You'll need to be off the Peregrine before that."

"We will, sir," Wedge said, moving toward the door. "Good luck with  your

battle plan, General."

Bel Iblis smiled faintly. "Good luck with yours."

* * *

They were just hitting Bothawui's  atmosphere  when  Corran,  who'd  been

leaning against the side viewport looking back  toward  the  shuttle's  stern,

turned around and settled himself back  into  his  seat.  "They're  gone,"  he

announced.

Wedge glanced at his displays. The ships of the Peregrine task force were

indeed no longer registering. "That they are," he agreed. "We're  on  our  own

now."

Corran shook his head. "This is crazy, Wedge. And you say he specifically

told you to take me?"

"Yes, but it didn't have anything to do with your hidden talents,"  Wedge

assured him. "He thinks you'll be able to access Booster's smuggling network."

Corran snorted. "That might work, if Booster was  speaking  to  me  these

days."

Wedge glanced sideways at him. "What, he's not still mad about that trick

we pulled with the Hoopster's Prank off Sif'kric, is he? I thought we  decided

they weren't carrying any contraband and let them go."

"No, they weren't; and yes, he is,"  Corran  said.  "Clean  or  not,  the

Sif'kries decided they didn't want smugglers carrying  cargoes  for  them  and

banned the Hoopster's Prank forthwith from future pommwomm shipments."

Wedge winced. "Ouch."

"Doesn't mean they won't get in anyway," Corran continued with  a  shrug.

"It just means they'll have  to  come  up  with  different  ships  or  new  ID

camouflage or something. But it's a nuisance,  and  Booster  hates  nuisances.

Especially official nuisances."

"Mm," Wedge said. "Sorry about that. Maybe Mirax will be able to calm him

down."

"Oh, I'm sure she will," Corran said. "Come to think of it,  though,  I'm

not sure Booster even has any interests on Bothawui. The planet's got so  many

other smuggling groups crawling all over it that he may have decided to  leave

it alone."

"Oh, that's handy," Wedge grumbled.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to get back to the exciting life of an X-

wing pilot, remember," Corran reminded him. "You could have been safely flying

a computer somewhere on Coruscant if you'd wanted."

Wedge made a face. "No, thanks. Tried it, didn't like it. So  you're  not

expecting us to find any help down there at all?"

There was a brief  silence.  "That's  an  interesting  question,"  Corran

murmured at last, his voice sounding odd. "Actually... I think I am."

Wedge threw him a frown. "You are what? Expecting to find help?"

"I think so, yes," Corran said, that same  strange  tone  in  his  voice.

"Don't ask how or where. I just... I think so."

"Let me guess," Wedge said. "Jedi hunch?"

Corran nodded. "Jedi hunch."

Wedge smiled. "Good," he said, already feeling better  about  this  whole

mission.

"In that case, we don't have anything to worry about."

"Well, no," Corran said slowly. "I don't think I'd go so far  as  to  say

that."

CHAPTER

4

[Beware to the starboard,] the  Togorian  female  at  the  Wild  Karrde's

sensor station called, her normally  fluid  mewling  speech  now  clipped  and

harsh. [At the two-five by fourteen angle.]

"I'm on it," another tight voice came over  the  bridge  comm  unit.  The

edges of a hundred asteroids rolling sedately past the viewport flickered with

reflected light as one of the Wild Karrde's turbolasers flashed,  then  blazed

even more brightly as the target asteroid shattered into dust and fire.

Seated in the back of the bridge out of the way,  Shada  D'ukal  mentally

shook her head. Negotiating an asteroid field was never an easy task,  but  it

seemed to her the Togorian and at least one of  the  turbolaser  gunners  were

getting themselves far too worked up over the  whole  operation.  Either  they

were naturally excitable, or else young and inexperienced. Neither possibility

exactly filled her with confidence; both made her wonder about their captain's

wisdom in bringing the two of them along in the first place.

Perhaps the captain was feeling the same way. "Calm down, H'sishi," Talon

Karrde cautioned the Togorian from  his  seat  behind  the  helm  and  copilot

stations. "You, too, Chal. Just because this asteroid  field  is  larger  than

others you've encountered doesn't mean it has to be treated any differently. A

light touch, blast only the rocks that are of immediate danger to us, and  let

Dankin maneuver the ship around the others."

The Togorian's ears twitched. [I obey, Chieftain,] she said.

"Yes, sir," the gunner's voice added.

Not that the admonition made any appreciable  difference,  at  least  not

that Shada could see. H'sishi still continued to snap out her targeting locks,

and Chal still fired full-power turbolaser blasts whether the target warranted

that much of a kick or not.

But then, maybe it wasn't just them. Maybe they were merely  sensing  and

reacting to the nervousness Karrde himself was feeling.

Shada shifted her gaze to focus on his profile. He was  hiding  it  well,

actually, with only cheek and jaw muscles betraying  the  tension  there.  But

Mistryl training included the reading of faces and body language, and  to  her

eyes Karrde's steadily growing apprehension was as obvious as  a  navigational

beacon.

And the upcoming stopover at Pembric 2 was only the first  leg  of  their

trip.

What would he be like, she wondered uneasily, by the time  they  actually

reached Exocron?

There was a particularly bright flash outside  as  a  particularly  large

asteroid was blown to dust. "Oh, my," a gloomy, metallic voice  murmured  from

Shada's right.

She turned to look at the C-3PO protocol droid  strapped  into  the  seat

next to her. He was staring at the viewport,  wincing  with  every  turbolaser

blast. "Trouble?" she asked.

"I'm sorry,  Mistress  Shada,"  he  said,  managing  to  sound  prim  and

miserable at the same time. "I've never entirely  enjoyed  space  travel.  And

this in particular reminds me of a rather unpleasant incident in the past."

"It should be over soon," she soothed  him.  "Just  try  to  relax."  The

Mistryl shadow guard had never used droids all that much, but one  of  Shada's

uncles had had one when she was growing up and she'd always had something of a

soft spot for them.

And in Threepio's case, she felt a particularly personal sympathy for his

position. Leia Organa Solo's personal translator droid, he had  been  suddenly

and summarily offered to Karrde for this voyage?no notice,  no  questions,  no

apologies. In many ways, it echoed Shada's own long and unquestioning  service

to the Mistryl.

A service that had come to a sudden and permanent end a month ago on  the

windswept roof of the Resinem Entertainment Complex, where Shada had dared  to

put her personal honor above direct orders from the Eleven, the rulers of  her

shattered world of Emberlene.

Would the rest of the Mistryl be hunting her now? Her old  friend  Karoly

D'ulin had hinted that that would be the  case.  But  with  the  New  Republic

simmering toward self-destruction in  a  flurry  of  petty  wars  and  revived

grudges, surely the Mistryl had more important things to  do  than  hunt  down

even a perceived traitor.

On the other hand,  if  Karoly  had  reported  Shada's  reasons  for  her

defiance?had repeated the words of scorn for leaders who had now forgotten the

proud and honorable tradition the Mistryl had once  held  to?then  the  Eleven

might indeed consider her worth the effort to track down. Of  all  motivations

to action, she had long since learned that injured pride was one of  the  most

powerful.

And one of the most destructive, as well. To  both  the  victim  and  the

hunter.

A motion caught her eye: Karrde half turning in his seat to look at  her.

"Enjoying the ride?" he asked.

"Oh, it's great fun," she told him. "Nothing I  like  better  than  doing

tight maneuvers with a cold crew."

The Togorian's fur expanded, just a little. But she didn't  comment,  and

she kept her eyes on her displays. "New experiences  are  what  give  zest  to

life," Karrde said mildly.

"In my line  of  work,  new  experiences  usually  mean  trouble,"  Shada

countered. "I hope you weren't planning on sneaking in, by the  way.  The  way

your people are lighting up the field, all of Pembric 2 knows we're coming  by

now."

As if to underline her words, the  asteroids  outside  flickered  with  a

multiple sputter of turbolaser fire. "Actually, according to Mara, most  ships

have to do some blasting on the way  in,"  Karrde  said.  His  fingers,  Shada

noted, were tapping gently but restlessly on his armrest. "Even the locals who

supposedly know the routes in and out."

[We have cleared the asteroid  field,  Chieftain  Karrde,]  the  Togorian

mewled.

Shada looked back at  the  viewport.  There  were  still  some  asteroids

floating past, but for the most part the sky was indeed clear.

[The planetary landing beacons are in sight,] H'sishi added, turning  her

head and fixing her yellow eyes on Shada. [Your  junior  crew  drone  may  now

cease her nervousness.]

Shada held that gaze for another two heartbeats. Then, deliberately,  she

turned away. Most of the Wild Karrde's crew had been verbally poking  at  her,

in one way or another, ever since their  departure  from  Coruscant.  Mazzic's

people had done the same back when she first joined  his  smuggling  group?the

usual reaction, she had long ago realized, of a tight-knit crew who have  just

had a stranger thrust into their midst.

One of Mazzic's techs had  unwisely  crossed  the  line  from  verbal  to

physical jabs, and as a result had spent a month in  a  neural  reconstruction

facility. Out here, at the edge of civilization, she hoped the  Wild  Karrde's

crew wouldn't have to learn the lesson the same way.

The pilot half turned around. "What now, Chief?"

"Take us into orbit," Karrde told him. "There's only  one  place  on  the

planet that can handle a ship this size, the Erwithat Spaceport.  They  should

be calling with landing instructions anytime now."

Right on cue, the comm crackled. "Bss'dum'shun," a sharp  voice  snapped.

"Sg'hur hur Erwithat roz'bd bun's'unk. Rs'zud huc'dms'hus u burfu."

Shada frowned. "I thought you said they spoke Basic here," she said.

"They do," Karrde said. "They must be trying to throw us." He  cocked  an

eyebrow at the droid beside Shada. "Threepio? Do you recognize it?"

"Oh, yes, Captain  Karrde,"  the  droid  said  with  the  first  sign  of

enthusiasm Shada had seen in him since the trip started. "I am fluent in  over

six million forms of communication. This is the dominant Jarellian dialect,  a

language whose antecedents date back to?"

"What did he say?" Shada interrupted  gently.  Protocol  droids,  in  her

limited experience, would go running on side trails all day if you  let  them,

and Karrde didn't look like he was in the mood for a linguistics lesson.

Threepio turned around  to  face  her.  "He  has  identified  himself  as

Erwithat Space Control, Mistress Shada, and asks our identity and cargo."

"Tell him we're the freighter Hab Camber," Karrde said.  "We're  here  to

buy some supplies and power."

Threepio turned back to him, his posture  indicating  uncertainty.  "But,

sir, this ship is named the Wild Karrde," he objected. "Its engine transponder

code?"

"Has been carefully altered," the pilot interrupted  sharply.  "Come  on,

they're waiting."

"Patience, Dankin," Karrde said. "We're in no  particular  hurry,  and  I

doubt Erwithat Control has anything better to do right now. Just  deliver  the

message as stated, Threepio. No, wait," he interrupted himself,  a  sly  smile

twitching at the corners of  his  mouth.  "You  said  this  was  the  dominant

Jarellian dialect. Are there any others?"

"Several, sir," Threepio said. "Unfortunately, I am versed in only two."

"Good enough," Karrde said. "Deliver our  answer  in  one  of  them."  He

settled himself back in his chair. "Let's see how far they're prepared  to  go

with this game."

Threepio delivered the message, and  for  a  long  moment  the  comm  was

silent. "Attention, unidentified freighter," a voice  growled  reluctantly  in

Basic. "This is Erwithat Space Control. State your identity and cargo."

Karrde smiled. "Apparently, not  very  far,"  he  commented,  keying  his

transmit key.

"Erwithat Control, this is the freighter Hab Camber," he said. "No cargo;

we're just passing through and hoped we could buy some supplies and power."

"Yeah?" the controller said. "What sort of supplies?"

"Do you handle merchandising duties as well  as  space  control?"  Karrde

countered.

"No, I just do the traffic," the other  growled,  sounding  more  annoyed

than ever.

"Let's hear your bid for landing rights."

Shada blinked. "Landing rights?" she muttered.

The controller had sharp ears. "Yes, landing rights,"  he  snapped.  "And

that little crack is going to cost you an extra three hundred."

Shada felt her mouth drop open. Crack? What crack? She filled  her  lungs

for a nasty retort of her own?

"We'll bid a thousand," Karrde said, warning her with a glance.

The controller snorted audibly. "For a freighter that size? You're either

joking or a fool."

H'sishi hissed something under her breath.  "Or  perhaps  merely  a  poor

independent trader," Karrde suggested. "What if I make it eleven hundred?"

"What if you make it fifteen?"  the  controller  countered.  "That's  New

Republic currency, too."

"Of course," Karrde said. "Fifteen hundred; agreed."

"Landing Pad 28," the controller said, his  grudging  annoyance  replaced

now by open gloating. Briefly, Shada wondered how much of that fifteen hundred

would be going directly into his pocket. "Beacon'll guide you in. The  money's

due on arrival."

"Thank you," Karrde said. "Hab Camber out." He keyed off the comm. "Chin?

"

"Beacon come on, Cap't," the older man  at  the  comm  station  reported,

squinting at his displays. "They guiding us in."

"Key the vector over to the helm," Karrde instructed.  "Dankin,  take  us

in.  Watch  out  for  fighters?Mara  said  they  sometimes  send  escorts  for

unfamiliar ships."

"Right," the pilot acknowledged.

Karrde looked at Shada. "You game for a little  walk  around  once  we're

down?"

Shada shrugged. "We junior crew drones are only here to serve. Where  are

we going?"

"A tapcafe called the ThrusterBurn," Karrde told her. "Assuming my map is

correct, it's only a  couple  of  blocks  from  the  landing  pad  we've  been

assigned.

The man I'm hoping to meet should be there."

"I didn't think we needed any supplies this soon," Shada said.  "Who  are

we meeting, and why?"

"A vicious yet cultured Corellian crime lord named Crev Bombaasa," Karrde

said.

"He runs most of the illegal operations in this part of Kathol sector."

"And we need his help?"

"Not particularly," Karrde said. "But getting his  permission  to  travel

through the area would make things easier."

"Ah," Shada said, frowning at his profile. This  didn't  sound  like  the

casually fearless Talon Karrde she'd heard so many stories about  from  Mazzic

and other smugglers. "We're worried about things being easy, are we?"

He smiled. "Always," he said. His tone was light, but Shada could hear an

odd hollowness behind it.

"Ah?Captain Karrde?" Threepio spoke up hesitantly. "Will you  be  needing

my services on this visit?"

Karrde smiled. "No, Threepio, thank you," he assured  the  droid.  "As  I

said, Basic is the official language down there. You can stay on the ship with

the others."

The droid seemed to wilt with relief. "Thank you, sir."

Karrde shifted his attention back to  Shada.  "We'll  go  lightly  armed?

sidearm blasters only."

"Understood," Shada said. "But I'll let you carry the blaster."

"Worried about things getting violent?" Dankin put in.

"Not at all," Shada said coolly, getting up from her seat and heading for

the bridge door. "I just prefer that my opponents not know what direction  the

violence is going to come from. I'll be in my cabin, Karrde?let me  know  when

you're ready."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were down. Fifteen minutes  after  that,  upon

payment of their landing fee and  a  brief  negotiation  regarding  additional

"protection"  costs  with  a  trio   of   white-uniformed   Pembric   Security

Legionnaires, Karrde and Shada were walking down the streets of  the  Erwithat

Spaceport.

It was not, to Karrde's mind, what one would exactly  call  an  inspiring

place.

Even at midday a haze seemed to shroud  the  whole  city,  diffusing  the

sunlight and adding a dankness to the occasional breezes that stirred the  hot

air without any perceptible cooling effect. The ground  was  composed  of  wet

sand, molecular-compressed where walkways were needed,  a  far  cry  from  the

permacrete that was the modern construction standard. The buildings lining the

walkways were made from some kind of plain but solid-looking white stone,  its

onetime cleanliness now marred by the brown and green mottlings  of  dirt  and

mold. A sprinkling of pedestrians roamed the streets, most  showing  the  same

general deterioration as the spaceport itself, and here and there  a  hurrying

swoop or landspeeder could be glimpsed between the buildings.

It was, in short, very much the way Mara's report from  seven  years  ago

had painted it. Except probably a little shabbier.

"Terrific place," Shada commented from beside him. "I get the feeling I'm

a little overdressed."

Karrde smiled. Dressed in a form-fitting dress  glittering  with  subdued

blue lights, she  did  indeed  stand  out  dramatically  against  the  general

drabness. "Don't worry about it," he assured her. "As I said earlier, Bombaasa

is a cultured sort of crimelord. You can never be  too  overdressed  for  that

type."

He glanced at her. "Though personally, I have to say I prefer the  silver

and dark red outfit you wore when we first met at the Whistler's Whirlpool  on

Trogan."

"I remember that outfit," she said, her voice oddly distant. "It was  the

first one Mazzic bought me after I became his bodyguard."

"Mazzic always did have good taste," Karrde agreed. "You know, you  still

haven't told me why you left his service so suddenly."

"You haven't told me anything about this  Jorj  Car'das  character  we're

looking for," Shada countered.

"Keep your voice down," Karrde said sharply, glancing around them.  There

didn't seem to be anyone within earshot,  but  that  didn't  necessarily  mean

anything. "That's not a name you want to casually toss around here."

Even staring straight ahead, he could feel Shada's  eyes  on  him.  "He's

really got you spooked, hasn't he?" she said  quietly.  "You  weren't  exactly

thrilled about all this when Calrissian talked you into hunting him down;  but

he's really got you spooked."

"You'll understand someday," Karrde told her. "After I'm able to tell you

the whole story."

She shrugged, her shoulder brushing briefly up against his arm  with  the

motion.

"Let's compromise," she suggested. "Once we're off Pembric, you can  tell

me half the story."

"Interesting proposal," Karrde said. "Agreed; but only  if  you  in  turn

tell me half the reason why you left Mazzic."

"Well..." She hesitated. "Sure."

They turned a corner, and Karrde felt his  mouth  twitch.  A  long  block

away, fronting onto an open square,  was  the  entrance  to  the  ThrusterBurn

tapcafe.

Parked in front of it were perhaps twenty  stripped-down  speeder  bikes.

"On the other hand," he said quietly, "getting off Pembric may not be quite as

easy as we hoped."

"Looks like a swoop gang's having a meeting in there,"  Shada  commented.

"There are the sentries?to the left, under the overhang."

"I see them," Karrde said. There were four of them: large,  tough-looking

young men in reddish-brown jackets sitting astride  their  swoops.  They  were

pretending to talk together, but it was clear that their  full  attention  was

aimed in the newcomers' direction.

"It's not too late to scrub this," Shada murmured. "We can go back to the

ship, get out of here, and take our chances with whatever Bombaasa decides  to

throw at us."

Karrde shook his head minutely. "We've been objects of official curiosity

ever since we landed. If we try to leave now, Bombaasa's people will intercept

us."

"In that case, our best bet is to walk right up to the place like we  own

it," Shada said briskly. "Keep your hand near your blaster?that'll keep  their

attention on you. Not close enough that they try to draw first, though. If  it

comes to a fight, let me throw the first punch;  and  if  it  looks  like  I'm

losing badly and you get an opening, make a run for it."

"Understood," Karrde said, finding himself amused despite the seriousness

of the situation. Shada had mostly kept to herself aboard the Wild Karrde, not

joining into the normal shipboard camaraderie or showing any real interest  in

getting to know the crew. But yet here she was, slipping back into the role of

bodyguard, preparing to defend Karrde's life even at the cost of her own.

What struck him the most was the sense that,  down  deep,  she  genuinely

meant it.

The four sentries let them get to within a few  meters  of  the  rows  of

parked swoops before saying anything. "Tapcafe's closed," one of them called.

"That's all right," Karrde  said,  not  breaking  stride  as  he  glanced

incuriously over at them. "We're not thirsty."

The swoopers had  looked  like  they  were  lounging  casually  on  their

vehicles. They weren't. Before Karrde and  Shada  had  taken  two  more  steps

they'd zoomed across the square and skidded to a halt  between  the  newcomers

and the parked swoops. "I said the place is  closed,"  the  one  who'd  spoken

repeated darkly, the long maneuvering vanes of his swoop pointed with unsubtle

threat directly at Karrde's chest. "Go away."

Karrde shook his head. "Sorry. We have business with Crev  Bombaasa  that

can't wait."

One of the others snorted. "Listen  to  him,"  he  said  derisively.  "He

thinks he can just walk in on Bombaasa anytime he wants.  Pretty  funny,  huh,

Langre?"

"Hilarious," the spokesman agreed, his face not showing any  evidence  of

humor. "Last chance, murk. Leave in one piece or in a bunch of 'em."

"Lord Bombaasa is going to be very displeased if you don't  let  us  in,"

Karrde warned.

"Yeah?" Langre sneered, nudging  his  swoop  forward.  "Like  I'm  really

scared."

"You should be," Karrde said, taking a step backward as  the  maneuvering

vanes poked perilously close to  his  chest.  Shada,  he  noted  peripherally,

hadn't moved backward with him but was still standing  where  he'd  left  her,

shrinking wide-eyed back  from  the  swoop  snorting  and  vibrating  its  way

alongside her as if terrified by its presence. "Lord Bombaasa doesn't like  to

be kept waiting."

"Then I guess we ought to hurry up and put you in a box for him,"  Langre

said, sneering a little harder. He nudged the  swoop  forward  another  meter,

forcing Karrde to take another rapid step backward. Not  quite  rapid  enough;

the tips of the maneuvering vanes jabbed sharply against his chest  before  he

could get out of the way.

One of the other swoopers chortled. Grinning maliciously, Langre gave the

swoop another burst of the throttle, clearly intent on  knocking  Karrde  down

this time.

The movement brought him directly alongside Shada?

And in that instant, she struck.

It was doubtful Langre even saw it coming. One moment Shada was  standing

there, transfixed like a frightened animal in  a  hunter's  sights;  the  next

moment she had swung her left leg back, rotated  her  upper  body  toward  the

swoop, and slammed her right fist into the side of his neck.

There may have been a distinctive "pop" accompanying the  flat  crack  of

the blow; Karrde wasn't sure. What he was sure of, as Langre  did  a  sideways

cartwheel off his swoop onto the ground, was that this one was definitely  out

of the fight.

The other three had excellent reflexes. Before Langre even hit  the  sand

they  had  twisted  their  handlebars  around  and  roared  off  in  different

directions across the square, forestalling any attempt Shada might  have  made

to similarly take them down. Cutting close to the surrounding buildings,  they

curved around and stopped short, turning their swoops around to  point  toward

Shada.

"Get out of the way!" Shada snapped to Karrde, moving to  the  center  of

the square and dropping into a low combat stance. Turning her  head  back  and

forth, she looked at each of the swoopers in turn as if daring  them  to  take

her on.

For a few seconds they seemed to ignore her challenge as  they  discussed

the situation in a hand-signal code Karrde didn't recognize. Taking  advantage

of the lull, he backed up until he reached the edge of the square. So far  the

swoopers  hadn't  shown  any  inclination  to  draw  the  weapons  they   were

undoubtedly carrying, but  that  could  change  at  any  time.  Watching  them

closely, he dropped his hand to his blaster?

"I don't think so," a gruff voice said in his ear.

Carefully, Karrde turned his head,  the  caution  dictated  by  the  hard

muzzle suddenly pressed against the small of his back. Three hard-faced men in

Security Legion uniforms were standing there, the last of them in the  process

of closing the concealed doorway that had opened up  in  the  building  behind

him. "You're just in time, Legionnaire," Karrde said to the leader.  This  was

probably futile, but he had to try. "My friend's in danger out there."

"Yeah?" the other  said,  pulling  Karrde's  blaster  from  its  holster.

"Looked to me like she was the one who started it. Anyway, trying  to  bluster

your way in to see Bombaasa is a crime all by itself around here."

"Even if Bombaasa decides he's glad  we  dropped  in  to  visit?"  Karrde

countered. "You'd be in serious trouble."

"Nah," the Legionnaire said, sticking the appropriated blaster  into  his

belt and coming around to Karrde's side. "That's why we got these," he  added,

hefting his weapon as he stepped a prudent meter away from  his  prisoner.  It

was, Karrde saw now, not a blaster  but  an  old  Merr-Sonn  tangle  gun.  "If

Bombaasa decides he wants to see you, hey,  we  just  cut  you  loose.  If  he

doesn't"?he grinned evilly?"then  you're  already  wrapped  for  burial.  Real

convenient."

He gestured with the tangle gun. "Now shut up. I want to watch this."

Throat tight with frustration, Karrde turned back to the square. The Wild

Karrde's crew wouldn't be able to get here fast enough to  help,  even  if  he

could get to his comlink to alert them. He could only hope that Shada  was  as

good as she claimed.

And at that moment, their private  consultation  finished,  the  swoopers

attacked.

They didn't all charge at once, as Karrde had rather expected them to.

Suspecting perhaps that Shada would try to  maneuver  them  into  head-on

collisions if they did that, two of them instead began  tracing  out  a  loose

encircling ring around her while the third drove hard  and  straight  directly

in.

Shada stood her ground, but just before the maneuvering vanes reached her

chest she dropped back flat onto her back. The thug whooped with glee  as  his

swoop shot past over her, a triumphal shout  that  turned  into  a  squawk  of

surprise as Shada tucked her legs to her chest and kicked  hard  straight  up,

catching the swoop just forward of the directional thrust nozzles and  bucking

the swooper right out of the saddle.

It only took a second for him to get himself reseated and regain control.

But in the enclosed area of the square that was a half second  too  long,  and

with a horrendous crash both swoop and thug slammed full-bore into one of  the

buildings.

The  Legionnaire  beside  Karrde  whistled  softly.  "That's   two,"   he

commented. "She's good."

Karrde didn't reply. Shada  was  back  on  her  feet  now,  and  the  two

remaining swoops had pulled their circle a little farther back as if afraid to

let her get too close. If they decided that  she  wasn't  worth  the  risk  of

another wreck and pulled their blasters...

And then  he  noticed  one  of  the  swoopers  glaring  at  the  trio  of

Legionnaires; and with that single look he realized that the use  of  blasters

was now completely out of the question. With  this  many  witnesses  watching,

pride alone dictated that they deal with her without weapons.

The  two  swoops  were  still  circling.  "Come  on,  Barksy,"  the  head

Legionnaire called. "Not afraid, are you?"

"Scrub it, murk," one of the swoopers snapped back.

"That's Lieutenant Murk to you, scum," the Legionnaire murmured under his

breath.

Abruptly, Barksy swung his swoop out of the circle  and  charged  inward.

The same basic technique his predecessor had tried, and Karrde  found  himself

holding his breath as Shada again  fell  back  onto  the  sand  ahead  of  its

advance. Surely the swooper couldn't be so stupid as to  try  the  same  trick

again.

He wasn't. Even as Shada hit the  ground  he  pulled  back  hard  on  his

handlebar controls, the swoop's nose rearing up as the vehicle slid  a  couple

of meters farther before pulling to a hard stop. With a  triumphal  shout,  he

swiveled a hundred eighty degrees and brought the swoop's nose  down  hard  on

the spot where Shada had landed.

But Shada was no longer there. Instead of simply  hitting  the  sand  and

staying there as she had the last time, she had instead thrown her body into a

convulsive, wavelike movement as she hit the ground, her arching back and legs

bouncing her off the sand and up into an impossible-looking hand-and-foot grip

on the underside of the swoop. Somehow she managed to hold on through the spin

and nose-slam; and as the swooper leaned over, open-mouthed, for a closer look

at the empty ground where his victim should have been, she unhooked one of her

feet from its perch and landed a solid kick against the side of his head.

Beside Karrde, the lieutenant clucked his tongue. "I don't  believe  it,"

he muttered, clearly as stunned as Barksy had been before Shada's kick cleaned

all confusion from his mind. "Who is this bahshi, anyway?"

"One of the best in the business," Karrde assured him, pitching his voice

in the sort of low, confidential tone that just naturally seemed to  go  along

with the half step he took toward the man. Another  step  the  same  size,  he

estimated, and he would be close enough.  "Actually,  that  was  nothing,"  he

added, lowering his voice still more and simultaneously taking that extra half

step. "Wait till you see what she does to this one."

He threw a careful glance to his side. The  lieutenant  was  hooked,  all

right, staring in glassy-eyed fascination at the drama in the square,  waiting

to see what magic the mysterious woman would pull next from her sleeve.

The last swooper seemed to make up his mind. Pulling out of his circle at

the far end of the square, he leaned low over his  handlebar  controllers  and

charged.

Shada feinted left and then dodged right, the end of the  jutting  thrust

nozzles missing her hip by bare centimeters. The swooper spun the vehicle hard

around, clearly hoping to catch her from the side with the long  nose  of  the

swoop. But he had misjudged his speed,  and  the  swinging  maneuvering  vanes

scythed past her with plenty of room to spare. It took him a few  more  meters

to kill his spin and momentum, bringing himself to a halt no more  than  three

meters from Karrde and the Legionnaires. He  swiveled  around  again  to  face

Shada, shoulders hunched with anticipation?

And with a smoothly casual movement, Karrde plucked the tangle  gun  from

the Legionnaire's hand and fired.

The swooper screeched an air-blistering curse as the semi-plastic webbing

slammed into his back, whipping around him and pinioning his arms  solidly  to

his sides. "As you were, gentlemen," Karrde said mildly, taking  a  long  step

away from the Legionnaires and shifting his aim to cover them.

"Cute," the lieutenant said. Oddly enough, he  didn't  seem  particularly

upset. "Real cute."

"I thought you'd  like  it,"  Karrde  said,  nodding  to  the  other  two

Legionnaires. "Your weapons on the ground, please."

"That won't be necessary," a suave voice said from somewhere above him.

Karrde risked a quick glance, but he could  see  no  one.  "No,  I'm  not

there," the voice assured him, a touch of amusement in his  tone.  "I've  been

watching your performance from inside my casino, and I  must  admit  to  being

impressed by your work. Tell me, what is it you want here?"

"To see you, of  course,  Lord  Bombaasa,"  Karrde  said  to  the  hidden

speaker. "I had hoped to collect on an old debt."

The lieutenant made an uncomfortable-sounding noise in  his  throat.  But

Bombaasa merely laughed. "I'm aware of no debt I owe you, my  friend.  But  by

all means let us talk about it. Lieutenant Maxiti?"

"Sir?" the lieutenant said, straightening automatically to attention.

"Give the gentleman back his blaster and escort him and the lady  to  the

casino.

And have your men clean the garbage out of the square."

* * *

The interior of the ThrusterBurn was a  sharp  contrast  to  the  climate

outside?a sharp contrast, for that matter, with nearly every low-rent  cantina

and tapcafe Shada had ever been in. The air was cool and comfortably dry,  and

while the booths lining the walls were dark enough to ensure privacy, the rest

of the tapcafe was bright and almost cheerful.

Not that the current clientele was the sort that  would  appreciate  such

homey touches. There were about twenty of them, stamped-templet copies of  the

four she'd disposed of outside, all glaring balefully at  the  newcomers  from

their group of tables in one of the corners by the curved bar. Briefly,  Shada

wondered if Bombaasa had told them their sentries were  being  unceremoniously

carted out of the square outside, but quickly dismissed the thought. A man who

owned this kind of tapcafe would  be  unlikely  to  risk  it  by  deliberately

inviting a fight inside.

Nevertheless, she kept an eye on the swoopers as  Lieutenant  Maxiti  led

them across the main area to an unobtrusive door at  the  back  of  the  dance

floor.

The door opened as they approached, giving them a glimpse of a small back

room, and a large, dark-eyed human stepped out. He threw a measuring glance at

Karrde, an even longer look at Shada, and  then  nodded  to  the  Legionnaire.

"Thanks," he said to the latter, dismissing him with that  single  word,  then

looked back at Karrde. "Come on in," he invited, stepping aside  to  let  them

pass.

The back room had been fitted out as a compact casino, with  four  tables

around which a dozen or so beings of various species were busily engaged in  a

variety of card and dice games. With their minds and  hopes  pinned  to  their

money, it was doubtful any of them even realized anyone new had come in.

All except one. A short, pudgy human with thin, sticklike  arms,  he  sat

alone at the largest table, his slightly bulging eyes focused unblinkingly  on

Karrde and Shada as they stepped into the room. Two large men  with  the  same

bodyguard look as the one now closing the door behind them stood at  attention

beside the pudgy man's chair, also eyeing the newcomers.

Shada grimaced, not liking this at all. But Karrde didn't hesitate. "Good

day, Lord Bombaasa," he said, stepping right up to  the  edge  of  the  table.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice."

The two bodyguards seemed to tense, but Bombaasa  merely  smiled  thinly.

"Like the legendary Rastus Khal, I am always available to those  who  intrigue

me," he said smoothly. "And you do indeed intrigue me."

His insectlike eyes shifted to  Shada.  "Though  for  a  moment  there  I

thought you had run out of  tricks,"  he  added.  "If  your  companion  hadn't

snatched the lieutenant's tangle gun, you would have been in trouble."

"Hardly," Shada told him coolly. "I caught a  reflection  of  him  moving

toward the Legionnaires and guessed he was  about  to  try  something.  If  it

didn't work, he was going to need my help right away, and  the  swooper  would

keep."

Bombaasa shook his head admiringly. "An amazing display, my  dear,  truly

amazing.

Though I'm afraid that in the process you've ruined your gown. Perhaps  I

can arrange to have it cleaned before your departure."

"That's most generous of you, my lord,"  Karrde  said  before  she  could

answer. "But I'm afraid we won't be able to stay on Pembric that long."

Bombaasa smiled again, but this time there was a distinct glint of menace

to the expression. "That remains to be seen, my  friend,"  he  warned  darkly.

"And if you're another New Republic or Kathol sector emissary seeking to annex

my territory, you may find your departure considerably delayed."

"I have no ties to any governmental  group,"  Karrde  assured  him.  "I'm

merely a private citizen here to ask a favor."

"Indeed," Bombaasa said, toying idly with the  subtly  glittering  throat

pendant around his neck. "I have the distinct  impression  you  don't  realize

what my favors cost."

"I believe you'll find this  one  has  already  been  paid  for,"  Karrde

countered. "And it is only a small favor, after all. We have an errand to  run

inside your cartel's territory,  and  we'd  like  safe  passage  through  your

various pirate and hijacking gangs until we've completed it."

Bombaasa's eyes widened politely. "Is that all," he said. "Come, come, my

dear sir. A large, tempting target like your  freighter,  and  you  want  safe

passage?" He shook his head sadly. "No, you don't understand my fee  scale  at

all."

Shada felt her muscles  tensing,  consciously  relaxed  them.  All  three

bodyguards were armed and competent-looking; but if nudge came to  punch,  she

doubted any of them had ever faced a Mistryl before.

Unfortunately, unlike the case with the swoopers, she wouldn't  have  the

luxury of leaving them damaged but alive. She would have to take out  the  one

behind them first...

"My mistake," Karrde said, his tone almost  offhanded.  "I  assumed  that

when someone had saved your life you would be more grateful."

Bombaasa had  been  in  the  process  of  lifting  a  finger  toward  the

bodyguards standing beside him. Now, at Karrde's words, he froze,  the  finger

poised in midair. "What are you talking about?" he demanded cautiously.

"I'm talking about a situation that occurred here a little over six years

ago," Karrde said. "One in which a rather dapper gentleman and  a  young  lady

with red-gold hair foiled an assassination plot against you."

For a pair of heartbeats Bombaasa continued to  stare  at  Karrde.  Shada

threw a surreptitious glance at the two bodyguards, mentally plotting out  her

attack plan?

And with a suddenness that startled her, Bombaasa burst out laughing.

The other gamblers in the casino paused in their activities,  turning  to

gape momentarily at what was apparently an uncommon  sound  in  their  quietly

desperate little world. Bombaasa, still laughing, gave a hand signal, and  the

bodyguards visibly relaxed. "Ah, my friend," he  said,  still  chuckling.  "My

friend, indeed.

So you're the mysterious chieftain the  young  lady  spoke  of  when  she

refused to accept any payment."

"I'm the one," Karrde said, nodding. "I believe she also suggested that a

man of your obvious breeding wouldn't mind carrying the debt until it could be

properly repaid."

"She did indeed." Bombaasa waved a thin hand at Shada. "And now you bring

this one. I would never have expected there to even exist two  such  beautiful

yet deadly ladies, let alone loyal to the same man."

He cocked an eye toward Shada. "Or are you  committed  to  this  man,  my

dear?" he added. "If you would be interested in discussing a change of career,

I could make it well worth your while."

"I'm not committed to anyone," Shada said, the words hurting  her  throat

as she said them. "But for the moment, I'm traveling with him."

"Ah." Bombaasa  peered  closely  at  her,  as  if  trying  to  gauge  her

sincerity, then shrugged. "If you should change your mind, you have merely  to

come see me," he said. "My door will always be open to you."

He returned his attention to Karrde. "You are right: I do indeed owe you,

" he said. "Before you leave, I'll provide you with a special ID  overlay  for

your ship that will identify you as being under my protection."

His lips compressed. "However, though it will certainly protect you  from

members of my cartel, it may at the same time create  extra  danger  for  you.

Over the past year a vicious new pirate gang has relocated to this  area,  one

which we have so far been unable  to  either  eliminate  or  bring  under  our

control. I suspect they would consider a freighter under my protection to be a

particularly intriguing challenge."

Karrde shrugged. "As you pointed out earlier,  we  would  be  a  tempting

target regardless of that. We are, of course, not nearly as vulnerable  as  we

appear."

"I have no doubt of that," Bombaasa said. "However, the  enemy  is  quite

well  equipped,  with  a  sizable  fleet  of  SoroSuub  Corsair-class  assault

starfighters as well as a number of larger ships. If you can spare  the  time,

perhaps you would allow my people to do some quick upgrades of  your  weaponry

or shields."

"I appreciate your  offer,"  Karrde  said,  "and  if  circumstances  were

otherwise I would be all too happy to accept. But I'm afraid our errand  is  a

pressing one, and we simply can't afford to take the time."

"Ah," Bombaasa said. "Very well, then. Leave when you must?the ID overlay

will be ready when you are." He smiled slyly. "And of course,  for  you  there

will be no exit visa required."

"You are most generous, my lord," Karrde said,  bowing  slightly  at  the

waist. "Thank you; and the debt is now paid." Taking Shada's arm, he turned to

go?

"One other thing, my friend," Bombaasa called them back. "Neither of your

associates gave me their names when they were here, nor  would  they  tell  me

yours.

I would appreciate it if you would satisfy my curiosity."

Beside her, Shada sensed Karrde brace himself. "Of course, Lord Bombaasa.

My name is Talon Karrde."

The pudgy figure seemed to sit up a little straighter. "Talon Karrde," he

breathed. "Indeed. Some of my, ah, business associates  have  spoken  of  you.

Often at great length."

"I'm sure they have," Karrde said. "Particularly those Hutt agencies with

whom your cartel has ties."

For a moment Bombaasa's eyes narrowed. Then his expression cleared and he

smiled again. "The Hutts are right: you indeed know far more than  is  healthy

for you.

Still, as long as you don't seek to  extend  your  organization  into  my

territory, what have I to fear?"

"Nothing  at  all,  my  lord,"  Karrde  agreed.  "Thank  you   for   your

hospitality.

Perhaps we shall meet again someday."

"Yes," Bombaasa said softly. "There is always that chance."

* * *

The Legionnaire lieutenant, Maxiti, offered to get them a  ride  back  to

their landing pad. But Karrde declined. It was only a short walk,  after  all,

and after a taste of the  Pembric  climate  the  somewhat  austere  conditions

aboard the Wild Karrde would seem that much more pleasant.

Besides, after the tone of that last exchange with Bombaasa, it  wouldn't

do to look as if they were hurrying to get away from him.

"Who's Rastus Khal?" Shada asked.

With an effort, Karrde  brought  his  mind  back  from  dark  visions  of

vengeful crimelords having second thoughts. "Who?"

"Rastus Khal," Shada repeated. "Bombaasa dropped the name right after  we

were shown in."

"He  was  a  fictional  character  from  some  masterpiece  of  Corellian

literature," Karrde said. "I forget which one. Bombaasa is quite literate,  or

so I've heard.

Apparently, he likes to consider himself a cultured sort of cutthroat."

Shada snorted. "Cultured. But he deals with Hutts."

Karrde shrugged. "I agree. One reason the Hutts and I don't get along,  I

suppose."

For a minute they walked in silence. "You knew he was connected with  the

Hutt syndicates," Shada said. "Yet you told him who you were. Why?"

"I'm not expecting Bombaasa to renege on his deal with us, if that's what

you're worried about," Karrde said. "Cultured beings always repay their debts,

and Mara and Lando did indeed save his life."

"The question wasn't so much about Bombaasa as it was about  you,"  Shada

countered. "He didn't need to know who you were, and I've seen your  expertise

at dodging questions you don't want to answer. So why did you tell him?"

"Because I'm guessing word of  this  encounter  will  get  back  to  Jorj

Car'das," Karrde said quietly. "This way, he'll know it's me who's  coming  to

see him."

He sensed Shada frown. "Excuse me? I thought the idea was for us to sneak

up quietly on him."

"The idea is to see if he has a copy  of  the  Caamas  Document,"  Karrde

corrected her. "If we appear suddenly, without any  warning,  he's  liable  to

simply kill all of us before we have a chance to talk to him."

"And if he does know we're coming?" Shada retorted. "Sounds  to  me  like

all it does is give him more preparation time."

"Exactly," Karrde said soberly. "And if he feels ready for us, he may  be

more inclined to listen before he shoots."

"You seem convinced he'll shoot."

Karrde hesitated. Should he tell  her,  he  wondered,  exactly  why  he'd

allowed her to come on this trip?

No, he decided. Not yet. At best she  would  probably  feel  insulted  or

offended.

At worst, she might refuse to go along with it at all. "I think there's a

good chance he will, yes," he said instead.

"Knowing that it's you."

Karrde nodded. "Knowing that it's me."

"Uh-huh," Shada said. "What did you do to this guy, anyway?"

Karrde felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. "I stole something from him,"  he

told her. "Something he valued  more  than  anything  else  in  the  universe.

Probably more than he valued his own life."

They walked in silence for another few steps. "Go on," Shada prompted.

Karrde forced a smile. "I only promised you half  the  story  today,"  he

reminded her, trying to put some lightness into his tone. "That was  it.  Your

turn."

"What, why I left Mazzic?" Shada shrugged. "There's not much to  tell.  I

left because a bodyguard who becomes a target herself can't do much  good  for

anyone else."

So Shada had become a target. That was very interesting  indeed.  "May  I

ask who's suicidal enough to be gunning for you?"

"Sure, go ahead and ask," Shada said. "You're not going to get an answer,

though.

Not until I get the rest of the Car'das story."

"Somehow, I was expecting you to say that," Karrde murmured.

"So when do I get it?"

Karrde looked up through the haze at  the  dim  glow  of  Pembric's  sun.

"Soon," he promised. "Very soon."

CHAPTER

5

"The sixth sumptuous hour of the fifteenth glorious  day  of  the  yearly

Kanchen Sector Conference now begins," the  herald  intoned,  his  deep  voice

echoing  across  the  bowl-shaped  field  where  the  various  delegates  sat,

squatted,  lay,  or  crouched,  according   to   their   species'   particular

physiological design. "Let us all hail and magnify the  Grandiose  Elector  of

Pakrik Major, and bid him express his sublime and all-encompassing  wisdom  in

his leading of this gathering."

The assembled beings called or growled their agreement with the  herald's

sentiment. All but Han; and lounging beside him on the feathery matgrass, Leia

had to smile in private amusement. Coming out here had been Han's idea,  after

all: a temporary respite from the bitter dissension and the gnawing suspicions

that had been churning through the New Republic  government  ever  since  that

partially destroyed copy of the Caamas Document had come to light.

And it had been a good idea, too. In the half  day  since  their  arrival

Leia had already begun to feel the tension draining out of her.  Getting  away

from Coruscant was exactly what she'd needed, and she'd taken great  pains  to

mention that to her husband at least twice  now  and  to  thank  him  for  his

thoughtfulness.

At the moment, unfortunately, all her reassurances were falling  on  deaf

ears.

Once again, Han had failed to  take  into  account  what  Leia  privately

referred to as the Solo Embarrassment Factor.

"And let us similarly hail and magnify our glorious visitors from the New

Republic," the herald continued, waving  his  hand  in  an  expansive  gesture

toward where Han and Leia were  stretched  out.  "May  their  sublime  wisdom,

awesome courage, and magnificent honor enlighten the sky above our gathering."

"You forgot our uplifted eyebrows," Han muttered under his breath as  the

assembly roared out their greetings.

"It's better than Coruscant," Leia chided him gently as she half rose and

waved.

"Come on, Han, be nice."

"I'm waving, I'm waving," Han grumbled, leaning up on one arm and  waving

reluctantly with the other. "I don't know why they have to do this every hour.

"

"Would you rather have people accusing us of helping cover  up  attempted

genocide?" Leia countered.

"I'd rather they just left us alone," Han said, giving one last wave  and

then dropping his hand back down. Leia lowered hers as well, and the approving

roar of the delegates died away.

"Patience, dear," Leia said as the herald bowed deeply  and  yielded  the

podium to the elaborately dressed Grandiose Elector. "It's only for  the  rest

of the day?you can put up with it that  long.  Tomorrow  we'll  head  over  to

Pakrik Minor and get all that peace and quiet you promised me."

"It just better be real peaceful and quiet," Han warned,  looking  around

at the crowd of delegates.

"It will be," Leia assured him, reaching over to squeeze his hand.  "They

may be all pomp and pageantry here on Pakrik Major, but over there  among  the

tallgrain farms we probably won't find anyone who even recognizes us."

Han snorted, but even as he did Leia could  sense  a  lightening  of  his

mood. "Yeah," he said. "We'll see."

* * *

"Carib?"

With a wince of tired knees Carib Devist got  up  from  where  he'd  been

crouching, careful not to bump into  either  of  the  two  rows  of  tallgrain

pressing close around him. "I'm over here,  Sabmin,"  he  called,  waving  his

coring tool as high over the stalks as he could reach.

"I see you," Sabmin called back. There was the crackle of brittle  leaves

being brushed against; and then Sabmin emerged through a gap in  the  row.  "I

had to come right?" He broke off, frowning at the tool in Carib's  hand.  "Uh-

oh."

"Save the uh-ohs for polite company," Carib said sourly. "Just say shavit

and mean it."

Sabmin hissed softly between his teeth. "How many colonies?" he asked.

"So far, just the one," Carib said, waving the corer toward the tailgrain

stalk he'd been digging into. "And I did find an empress, so it's  possible  I

got the whole infestation. But I wouldn't bet money on it."

"I'll alert the others," Sabmin said. "Probably should get  word  to  the

tri-valley coordinator, too, in case this isn't the only valley the  bugs  are

moving into."

"Yeah." Carib eyed his brother. "And what wonderful news have you brought

me?"

Sabmin's lips compressed. "We just got  confirmation  from  Bastion,"  he

said quietly. "New Republic High Councilor Leia Organa Solo is definitely over

on Pakrik Major. And the attack on her is definitely on."

Reflexively, Carib glanced up at the half-lit planet hanging in  the  sky

overhead.

"They must be crazy," he said. "Attack a  New  Republic  High  Councilor,

just like that?"

"I don't think they really cared who they got to attack, so  long  as  it

was a New Republic official," Sabmin said. "Apparently, the Grandiose  Elector

sent out a blanket invitation to Coruscant asking  for  a  representative.  My

guess is that the request was prodded by some Imperial plant, with an  eye  to

the fact that we were already in place here and could act as  backup.  It  was

just luck that Gavrisom decided to send Organa Solo."

"Yeah," Carib said darkly.  "Luck.  Did  this  come  over  Grand  Admiral

Thrawn's personal authorization?"

"I don't know," Sabmin said. "The notice didn't say. But it has  to  have

come from him, doesn't it? I mean, if he's in command, then he's in command."

"I suppose so," Carib conceded reluctantly. So there it was. The war  was

about to be brought suddenly and violently to  the  Pakrik  system.  Right  to

their doorstep... and the long wait was over. The quiet existence of  Imperial

Sleeper Cell Jenth-44 was about to come to an end. "You say we're the  backup.

Who's the primary?"

"I don't know," Sabmin said. "Some tag  team  in  from  Bastion  for  the

occasion, I'd guess."

"And when is it supposed to happen?"

"Tomorrow," Sabmin said. "Organa Solo and her husband are supposed to  be

coming over here to Minor once the conference breaks up."

"And there's no indication whether the attack is real or just supposed to

look real?"

Sabmin gave him a  startled  look,  an  expression  that  quickly  turned

knowing and thoughtful. "Interesting point," he said.  "With  Thrawn  involved

you can't take anything for granted, can you? No, all I know is  that  there's

an attack coming and that we're supposed to stand ready in case Solo's  better

or luckier than expected."

Carib grimaced. "I suppose even Solo's luck has  to  run  out  sooner  or

later."

"Yeah." Sabmin eyed him suspiciously. "What are you thinking?"

Carib looked up at the sky again. "I'm thinking we have to play  this  by

ear," he said quietly. "One thing's for sure,  though:  if  the  battle  comes

anywhere near our valley, no matter who's winning, we're definitely not  going

to just sit by and watch. We've invested too much here to let it go without  a

fight."

Sabmin nodded. "Understood," he said soberly. "I'll pass the word to  the

others.

Whatever happens tomorrow, we'll be ready."

* * *

Ahead, through the alien greenery, a stand of gnarled trees brushed  past

the screen to Pellaeon's left, and the AT-AT simulator bucked to the right  in

response. "Watch those trees, Admiral," Major Raines's  voice  warned  in  his

helmet headphone. "You probably won't knock yourself over that way,  but  I've

seen walkers get hung up so bad you had to send a couple of troopers  down  to

blow the tree off at the roots. Takes time, and you're a sitting  flink  until

you get free."

"Acknowledged," Pellaeon said, easing over away from the trees. Simulated

AT-AT combat, frustrating though it could be sometimes, was far enough outside

his normal command duties that it was actually a form of relaxation for him.

Though of course nothing that included combat was ever  truly  outside  a

Supreme Commander's duties. The  better  Pellaeon  understood  how  mechanized

equipment handled on difficult terrain, the better he would know how to deploy

them in future operations.

Assuming, of course, the Empire ever again had occasion to launch  ground

assaults.

Firmly, he shook the thought away. One of the  reasons  for  coming  down

here, after  all,  had  been  to  distract  himself  from  the  continued  and

frustrating lack of response to his peace offer on the New Republic's part.

He was past the stand of trees now. Easing back on his  speed,  he  keyed

for a side view to see how Raines was handling the jungle.

Very straightforwardly, actually.  Keeping  an  eye  farther  ahead  than

Pellaeon was doing, he  was  using  his  forward  laser  cannon  to  cut  down

potential obstacles well before they became a problem.

A fairly noisy technique, of course, and one that gave any  enemies  that

much more advance warning. On the other hand, AT-ATs were hardly the weapon of

choice where stealth was required, and Raines's method was  definitely  moving

him through the jungle faster than  Pellaeon.  Lifting  his  gaze,  trying  to

stifle the reflexive impulse to watch where his AT-AT was about  to  step,  he

squeezed off a few tentative shots.

"That's  the  way,  Admiral,"  Raines  said  approvingly.  "Just  try  to

anticipate where the trouble's going to be before you're too close to aim  the

guns where they can do any good."

Pellaeon grunted. "Better  yet,  avoid  using  AT-ATs  entirely  in  this

situation."

"Whenever we can," Raines said.  "Unfortunately,  troublemakers  like  to

hide themselves in places like this and then put up energy shields over  their

heads.

Besides, there's nothing like an AT-AT  clumping  through  the  trees  to

scare the sneer off someone's face."

There was a click from  the  headset.  "Admiral,  this  is  Ardiff,"  the

Chimaera's captain's voice came. "Lieutenant Mavron is on his way  in."  There

was just the briefest pause. "He reports, sir, that he has a vector."

Pellaeon felt his eyes narrow. Mavron's mission had been a long shot, one

last attempt to find out something about the force that had hit them six  days

ago. If he said he'd found a vector... "Have him report to Ready  Room  14  as

soon as he docks," he instructed Ardiff, shutting  off  the  simulator.  "I'll

meet you there."

Ardiff was waiting alone in the ready  room  when  Pellaeon  arrived.  "I

assumed this was to be a private meeting, so I cleared the other pilots  out,"

he explained. "Is this about that HoloNet search?"

"I hope so," Pellaeon said, waving him to one of the  chairs  around  the

central monitor table and sitting down himself. "Ah?Lieutenant," he  added  as

the door slid open and Mavron stepped inside. "Welcome  home.  A  vector,  you

said?"

"Yes, sir," Mavron said, setting a datapad down on the monitor table  and

easing himself into a chair with the peculiar stiffness of a man who has  been

sitting in a starfighter cockpit for too long. "The HoloNet  relay  at  Horska

did indeed still have their records for  transmissions  from  this  area  just

after that raid against us."

"You were able to pull them all, I presume?" Pellaeon asked,  picking  up

the datapad.

"Yes, sir," Mavron said. "Unfortunately, I couldn't get any names, but  I

did get endpoints for the transmissions." He nodded  toward  the  datapad.  "I

took the liberty of sifting through them on the way back.  The  one  I  marked

struck me as the most interesting."

Pellaeon felt  his  jaw  tighten  as  he  found  the  lieutenant's  mark.

"Bastion."

Ardiff rumbled deep in his throat. "So it was  an  Imperial  behind  that

attack."

"There's more," Mavron said. "The original endpoint was Bastion; but then

it got relayed a few more times and wound up somewhere in the Kroctar system."

"Kroctar system?" Ardiff said, frowning. "That's  deep  in  New  Republic

territory.

What would someone from Bastion be doing there?"

"I wondered that, too," Mavron said,  his  voice  suddenly  grim.  "So  I

stopped off at Caursito on the  way  back  here  and  pulled  a  copy  of  the

TriNebulon for that day. If the timings are correct, a few  hours  after  that

transmission the Unified Factions of Kroctar announced that a treaty had  been

negotiated between themselves and the Empire.  The  mediator  of  record?well,

according to Lord Superior Bosmihi, it was Grand Admiral Thrawn."

An icy chill ran up Pellaeon's back. "That's impossible,"  he  said,  his

voice sounding strange in his ears. "Thrawn is dead. I watched him die."

"Yes, sir," Mavron said, nodding. "But according to the report?"

"I watched him die!" Pellaeon thundered.

The sudden outburst surprised even him. It certainly startled Ardiff  and

Mavron.

"Yes, sir, we know," Ardiff said. "Obviously, it's some kind of trick.

Lieutenant, I imagine the rest can wait  until  you  file  your  complete

report. Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up."

"Thank you, sir," Mavron said, clearly glad to be given  the  opportunity

to escape. "I'll have my report filed within an hour."

"Very good." Ardiff nodded. "Dismissed."

He waited until Mavron had gone and the door was once again closed before

speaking. "It is a trick, Admiral," he said to Pellaeon. "It has to be."

With an effort, Pellaeon pulled his thoughts back from  the  memories  of

that awful day at Bilbringi. The day the Empire had  finally  and  irrevocably

died. "Yes," he murmured. "But what if it's not?  What  if  Thrawn  really  is

still alive?"

"Why, in that case..." Ardiff  trailed  off,  his  forehead  wrinkled  in

sudden uncertainty.

"Exactly," Pellaeon said,  nodding.  "The  time  when  Thrawn's  tactical

genius could have done us any good was?when? Five years ago? Seven? Ten?  What

could he possibly do now except bring the New Republic down on us in panic?"

"I don't know,  sir."  Ardiff  paused.  "But  that's  not  what's  really

bothering you."

Pellaeon looked down at his  hands.  Old  hands,  gnarled  with  age  and

darkened by the sunlight of a thousand worlds. "I was  with  Thrawn  for  just

over a year," he told Ardiff. "I was his senior fleet officer, his student"?he

hesitated?"perhaps even his confidant. I'm not sure.  The  point  is  that  he

chose the Chimaera and me when he returned from the Unknown Regions. He didn't

just pick us at random; he chose us."

"No, there wasn't much Thrawn did at random," Ardiff agreed. "From  which

it follows that if he's back...?"

"That he's chosen someone else," Pellaeon finished the other's  sentence,

the words a sharp ache in his heart. "And there can be only a very few reasons

why he would do that."

"It can't be position," Ardiff said firmly. "You are  Supreme  Commander,

after all. And it certainly can't be competence. What's left?"

"Vision, perhaps," Pellaeon suggested, tapping the datapad gently with  a

fingertip. "This peace proposal was my idea, you know. I came up  with  it,  I

argued for it, and I crammed it down the Moffs' throats. Moff Disra was one of

those who loudly and strongly opposed it. Moff Disra of Bastion. Coincidence?"

For a moment Ardiff was silent. "All right," he said. "Even if  we  grant

all that?which I don't, by the way?why send a pirate or  mercenary  group  out

here to attack us?

Why not simply come here and tell you directly that the  treaty  idea  is

off?"

"I don't know," Pellaeon said. "Perhaps it isn't  off.  Perhaps  this  is

exactly where Thrawn wants me to be. Either preparing to talk  to  Bel  Iblis,

for whatever reason, or else?"

He pursed his lips. "Or else  simply  out  of  his  way.  Where  I  can't

interfere with whatever he's planning."

The silence this time stretched out painfully. "I don't believe he  would

do that to you, sir," Ardiff said at last. But the words  carried  no  genuine

conviction that Pellaeon could hear. "Not after all you went through together.

"

"You don't believe that any more  than  I  do,"  Pellaeon  said  quietly.

"Thrawn wasn't human, you know, no matter how human he might have  looked.  He

was an alien, with alien thoughts and purposes  and  agendas.  Perhaps  I  was

never more to him than just one more tool he could use in reaching  his  goal.

Whatever that goal was."

Almost hesitantly, Ardiff reached over and touched Pellaeon's arm.  "It's

been a long road, sir," he said. "Long and hard and discouraging. For  all  of

us, but mostly for you. If there's anything I can do..."

Pellaeon forced a smile. "Thank you, Captain. Don't worry; I'm not  going

to give up. Not until I've seen this through."

"We're staying here, then?" Ardiff asked.

"For a few more days," Pellaeon said. "I want to  give  Bel  Iblis  every

possible chance."

"And if he doesn't show?"

"Whether he does or not, we'll be going to Bastion next," Pellaeon  said,

hearing a touch of grimness in his voice. "For this and  other  matters,  Moff

Disra has some explaining to do."

"Yes, sir," Ardiff said, standing up. "We'll hope that this whole  Thrawn

appearance is just some trick of his."

"We most certainly will not," Pellaeon  reproved  him  mildly.  "Thrawn's

return would revitalize our people and bring nothing but good to the Empire. I

would never want it said that I valued my own pride above that."

Ardiff colored slightly. "No, sir, of course not. My apologies, Admiral."

"No apologies necessary, Captain," Pellaeon assured him, getting  to  his

feet. "As you said, it's been a long, hard road. But it's nearly over. One way

or another, it's nearly over."

* * *

The entry  procedures  at  the  Drev'starn  Spaceport  were  considerably

tighter today than they'd been the last time Drend Navett had landed  here  on

the Bothan homeworld. Hardly surprising, considering the events  of  the  past

five  days.  With  the  surprise  Leresen   attack   against   their   orbital

manufacturing plant and the subsequent multispecies military  buildup  in  the

sky overhead, tensions were growing at a rapid and eminently satisfying pace.

And the Bothans' normally business-friendly procedures had suffered as  a

result.

Once little more than a formality, exit  from  the  spaceport  quarantine

area now required a complete ID check and cargo scan.

Not that that mattered to Navett. This time through, there was nothing in

his cargo that would raise even a paranoid Bothan's fur. And  his  ID  was  as

perfect as only Imperial Intelligence could make them.

"Your identification and personal effects appear to  be  in  order,"  the

Bothan customs official said after the fifteen-minute procedure that seemed to

be the norm today. "However, the  Importation  Department  will  have  to  run

further tests on your animals before they can be allowed into the city proper.

"

"Sure, no problem," Navett said, waving his hand in one of the  expansive

gestures typical of the Betreasley district on Fedje where his ID claimed he'd

been born. He had no idea whether the Bothan would notice subtleties  of  that

sort, but the first law  of  infiltration  was  to  wear  a  role  the  way  a

stormtrooper wore his armor. "Hey, I done  this  on  dozens  of  planets,"  he

added.

"I know how this quarantine thing works."

The Bothan's fur rippled, just noticeably. "On many worlds, you say?"  he

asked.

"Is there some problem you have with maintaining ownership of your shops?

"

Navett frowned, as if trying to decipher his way  through  a  complicated

sentence, then let his face clear. "Naw, you got it all wrong," he said.  "I'm

not tryin' to set up a place I can settle down in. 'Sides, unless  you  got  a

bunch of guys to run the racks for you, you can't make a go of the exotic  pet

business unless you keep movin'. Lot of potential stock you'll never even hear

about unless you go where they come from."

"Perhaps," the Bothan murmured. "But I suspect you will not find much  of

a market on Bothawui in these troubled times."

"You kiddin'?" Navett said, letting  some  oily  smugness  show  through.

"Hey, this place is perfect.  A  planet  under  siege?lots  of  tension?that's

exactly where folks are going to need a pet  to  get  their  minds  off  their

troubles. Trust me?I seen it happen dozens of times."

"If you say so," the Bothan said with  a  ripple  of  his  shoulder  fur,

obviously not caring whether this slightly uncouth alien made a profit here or

not. "Leave me your comlink frequency and code and you'll be notified when the

quarantine is ended."

"Thanks," Navett said, collecting his documents together. "Make it  fast,

okay?"

"It will be as quick as regulations require," the Bothan said. "A day  of

peace and profit to you."

"Yeah. Same to you."

Five minutes later Navett was walking down the street, jostling  his  way

through the mass of travelers hurrying in and out of the spaceport. Passing up

the rows of for-hire landspeeders, he put his back  to  the  setting  sun  and

headed off on foot toward a row of cheap hotels bordering the spaceport area.

With his back to the sun, he spotted the shadow coming up  behind  him  a

few seconds before Klif dropped into step at his  side.  "Any  problems?"  the

other asked quietly.

"No, it went real smooth," Navett said. "You?"

Klif shook his head. "Not a one. He took the bribe, by the  way,  but  he

wouldn't promise we'd get the animals out any sooner."

"Not with a bribe that small," Navett  agreed,  smiling  to  himself.  An

insultingly small gratuity from the pet dealer's assistant, and  none  at  all

from the dealer himself, ought to nicely reinforce their carefully constructed

image as small-timers trying to turn a fast profit without the slightest  idea

how the game was played.

And with the Bothans, an image like that practically guaranteed  them  to

be the focus of private amusement, back-room contempt, and  complete  official

disinterest.

Which meant that when the time was right for the  Drev'starn  section  of

the Bothawui planetary shield to come down, it would.

"You see Horvic or Pensin in there?" Klif asked. "I didn't spot either of

them."

"No, but I'm sure they got in all right," Navett said. "We  can  tap  the

rendezvous point tomorrow if we can find a shop fast enough."

"I picked up a rental listing,"  Klif  said.  "Most  of  them  come  with

apartments above them."

"That'll be handy," Navett said. "We'll look through it tonight  and  see

if there's anything in the right area. If not, we  can  always  check  with  a

rental agent in the morning."

Klif chuckled. "Don't worry?we've got plenty of bribe money left."

"Yes," Navett murmured, looking around. Fifteen years ago,  according  to

rumor, it had been information from  Bothan  spies  that  had  led  the  Rebel

Alliance to Endor and resulted in the  death  of  Emperor  Palpatine  and  the

destruction of the second Death Star. In the years  since  then,  Bothans  had

been involved with the  Black  Sun  organization,  the  destruction  of  Mount

Tantiss, and any number of other blows against the Empire.

He didn't know the full scope of the plan that was under way here; but of

all the worlds Grand Admiral Thrawn might have  chosen  for  destruction,  few

would have given him more personal satisfaction than this one.

They had reached their chosen hotel now, and as they started up the steps

an ancient droid standing warden beside the door stirred himself. "Good  even,

good sirs," he wheezed. "May I call for a baggage carrier?"

"Naw, we can handle 'em," Navett said. "No sense wasting good money on  a

droid."

"But, sir, the service is free," the droid said, sounding confused.

But by then Navett and Klif were past him, pushing through the doors  and

strolling into the lobby. They were, he noted, the only hotel guests  carrying

their own bags.

But that was all right. Let the  Bothans  and  their  more  sophisticated

guests snicker at them behind their backs, if they chose, When the fire  began

to rain from the sky, the laughter would turn to screams of terror.

And Navett would be enjoying every minute of it.

CHAPTER

6

It was on her fifteenth day in the darkness of the Nirauan cave when Mara

Jade awoke to discover a rescuer had finally arrived.

It was not, however,  any  of  the  potential  rescuers  she  would  have

expected.

Mara?

She sat up suddenly in her bedroll, blinking her  eyes  reflexively  open

despite the fact that in the pitch-darkness there was  absolutely  nothing  to

see. The sense of someone calling to her had been wordless, but as clear as if

her name had been spoken aloud. She stretched out with the Force...

And as she did so, the sense of his presence came drifting in to her. His

presence, and his identity.

It was Luke.

The tone of his emotions changed, the hard edge of anxiety permeating  it

turning abruptly to relief as he sensed her response and  knew  that  she  was

unhurt. A new touch of anticipation flowed into his mind, and as  she  focused

she could sense a physical darkness around him. Best guess was that he was  in

the cave, she decided, probably working his way her direction.

Which unfortunately meant that his  anticipation  was  a  bit  premature.

Finding the cave was  one  thing;  finding  each  other  within  its  multiple

twistings was going to be something else entirely.

But Luke already had that  covered.  To  her  wordless  question  came  a

renewed sense of assurance from him; and even as she  frowned,  she  caught  a

sense of others around him, beings who he seemed to be following.  Apparently,

some of the mynocklike creatures who had hauled her in here in the first place

were acting as guides.

She looked up at the ceiling and walls around her. More of the  creatures

were up there, silently watching her. "Skywalker's coming," she called up into

the darkness. "You happy?"

They were. Even with  her  frustrating  inability  to  hear  their  words

directly, there was no mistaking the surge of excitement that rippled  through

them. "I'm so pleased," she said. Standing up, she felt  her  way  toward  the

subterranean creek gurgling its way through the rock a few meters away.  She'd

picked this spot early on in her captivity as a place  where  she  would  have

water available, and in the days since then had learned to navigate  the  trip

without using her glow rod.

She reached the creek, located the conveniently placed  flat  rock  where

she kept the small bottle of personal cleaning solution from her survival kit,

and stripped off her jumpsuit. The outfit itself was one  of  the  top-of-the-

line brands that was standard issue aboard Karrde's  ships  and  shrugged  off

dirt and oils with ease. Mara herself, unfortunately, did not; and if she  had

company coming it seemed only reasonable to make herself presentable.

The water was shallow, swift-moving, and icy cold. Mara splashed  it  all

over herself, trying not to sputter too much with the  thermal  shock.  A  few

drops of cleaning solution rubbed  vigorously  into  skin  and  hair,  another

agonizing dip into the liquid ice of the creek  to  rinse  off,  and  she  was

through. An only marginally warmer breeze flowed along the same  path  as  the

water, and she stood in the draft for a few minutes, brushing off excess water

and fluffing her hair  until  she  was  mostly  dry.  Getting  back  into  her

jumpsuit, she collected her things and headed back to her encampment.

Just in time. She was still sorting her equipment back into their  proper

niches in her pack when she caught  the  first  flickers  of  reflected  light

against the rocky walls and high ceiling. Rolling up her bedroll  and  tucking

it into her pack, she sat down on her  "chair"?another  mostly  flat  rock?and

waited.

It seemed to take an inordinate amount of time before the bouncing  light

finally resolved itself into a Jedi Master carrying a glow rod;  but  when  it

did she finally understood the reason for the  slow  trip.  Luke  himself  was

burdened down with what  looked  like  the  sort  of  everything-but-a-set-of-

alluvial-dampers survival kit Karrde's  people  liked  to  put  together;  and

trundling awkwardly but gamely along beside him on the uneven ground  was  his

R2 astromech droid.

"Mara?" Luke called, his voice echoing through the cave.

"Right here," Mara called back, standing up and waving her glow rod. "You

sure took your time."

"Sorry," he said dryly, making his way to  her.  "We  couldn't  find  the

local airspeeder-hire stand and had to walk. You look good."

"You look terrible," she countered, running a critical eye over him.  His

jacket and the jumpsuit beneath it were stained with dirt and sweat and dotted

here and there with small rips and punctures. "How far did you  walk,  anyway?

Halfway around the planet?"

"No, only about ten kilometers," he said,  shrugging  the  pack  off  his

shoulders onto the ground and running a hand through his  hair.  "But  it  was

cliffs and wilderness all the way."

"And thornbushes, apparently," Mara added, gesturing toward the tears  in

his jumpsuit. "You want to get cleaned up? There's a stream right  over  there

that doesn't have too much ice floating in it."

The droid gurgled. "Maybe later," Luke said. "How have they been treating

you?"

Mara shrugged. "Ambiguously," she said. "At first I thought I  was  being

held prisoner. But they didn't seem to mind if I moved  around  the  immediate

area, so I thought I might have been mistaken. On the other  hand,  they  also

wouldn't let me go too  far  in  any  direction,  and  they've  still  got  my

lightsaber and the blaster they took from me."

"Your blaster?"

"Yes, my blaster," Mara said, putting a drop-it tone into her voice.  The

aliens had taken both of her main weapons; but they'd missed the  tiny  backup

blaster snugged in its holster against her  left  forearm.  Up  till  now  she

hadn't had occasion to use  it,  but  she  didn't  want  Luke  announcing  its

existence, either. "And my lightsaber," she repeated. "So  now  I'm  not  sure

what's going on."

"Yes, my Qom Jha guides told me you  have  trouble  understanding  them,"

Luke said.

Apparently, he'd gotten the message about the blaster. "It sounds  to  me

like the reason they brought you in here was to keep you safe."

"I was afraid of that," Mara said, feeling her cheeks warming and  hoping

the chagrin didn't show. Bad enough that someone had had to come all  the  way

out here to the edge of Unknown Space to rescue her after she walked the  side

of her head into that rock. Even worse that it had to be Luke Skywalker,  Jedi

Master, who probably had a million better things to do with his time. But  for

the "rescue" to be from what was essentially an impromptu  alien  baby-sitting

service was embarrassing beyond words.

"Don't worry about it," Luke said quietly.

She blushed harder. "Blast it, Skywalker, stay out of my mind."

She felt his own flush of  embarrassment  at  the  unintended  intrusion.

"Sorry," he apologized. "But I didn't mean it that way. They say  they  needed

to protect you because you were being hunted by the Threateners from the  High

Tower."

Mara frowned, her embarrassment abruptly forgotten. "The Threateners?"

"That's the Qom Jha name for them," Luke said.  "Beings  similar  to  us,

they say, and allied with the Empire."

"Terrific," Mara murmured. With her attention these past few days focused

on survival and the exploration of her surroundings, the reason why she'd come

to Nirauan in the first place had rather been lost in the back of her mind.

But now it was suddenly back in a rush: the mysterious spaceship she  and

Luke had spotted skulking around the Cavrilhu Pirate base, and  the  one  that

later had buzzed Booster Terrik's private Star  Destroyer.  Alien  beings  and

alien technology, but with a distinctly Imperial flavor mixed into the design.

"So we were right," she said. "They were hunting for Imperials at the Cavrilhu

base."

"It's starting to sound that way," Luke said.  "Though  don't  forget  we

only have the Qom Jha word for that. We'll need to check it out for ourselves.

"

"Um." Mara eyed him. "So they can talk to you, huh?"

"Through the Force, yes." Luke paused, eyes slightly unfocused as  if  he

were listening to a faint sound. Mara stretched out to the Force herself,  but

aside from the creatures' normal chirping  she  could  still  catch  only  the

familiar almost-voices making almost-words. "You can't hear that?" he asked.

"Not understandably," Mara admitted. The thought annoyed  her  almost  as

much as having to be rescued. "What are they saying?"

"At the  moment,  not  much,"  Luke  said.  "They're  waiting  for  their

Bargainer to arrive. I gather from an earlier conversation I had with a  group

called the Qom Qae that that's the local term for leader or spokesman."

"Ah." Mara frowned as a ripple of displeasure  ran  through  the  almost-

voices. "I get the distinct feeling they don't like the Qom Qae very much."

"Yes, I know," Luke agreed, his tone a little uneasy. "Actually,  it  may

be partially my fault. I think they're displeased that I brought a Qom Qae  in

here with me."

"Not necessarily the most politic thing you could have done."

"He spent the last couple of days guiding me here," Luke said, sounding a

little defensive. "He wanted to come inside and see you, and  I  decided  he'd

earned that much. Besides, whatever's going on probably concerns both groups."

"Could be." Mara glanced around them. "Where is this guide of yours?"

"Up there somewhere," Luke said, playing  the  beam  from  his  glow  rod

around the ceiling. Each of the mynocklike Qom Jha twitched  as  the  spot  of

light passed, shying away from the glare.

All except one, a somewhat smaller creature whose leathery hide seemed to

be a slightly different color than that of the beings clustered closely around

him.

Also unlike the others, who hung casually from cracks  or  bumps  in  the

ceiling, he was perched awkwardly upright on a rock jutting out from the wall.

"That him?" Mara asked.

"Yes," Luke said, holding the light there a moment and  then  turning  it

back toward the ground. "He's called Child Of Winds."

Mara nodded, thinking back to her flight in through the deep  canyon  and

all the small caves she'd noticed pockmarking the rock walls along the way. "I

take it the Qom Qae are cliff-dwellers?"

"His nesting is, anyway," Luke said. "His father is also their Bargainer.

"

"Friends in high places," Mara said. "That could be handy."

"I'm not sure 'friends' is exactly the word I would have used," Luke said

dryly.

"They seem to have made off with my X-wing when  I  wasn't  looking,  and

Child Of Winds either can't or won't tell me where they took it. It must  have

taken a whole lot of them to even move it."

"It did," Mara said with a grimace. "I know because I watched the Qom Jha

do the same thing with my Defender, hauling it into  the  cave  to  who  knows

where. Looks like they've got more in common with the Qom Qae than they  might

like."

"Actually, your Defender isn't very far away," Luke said.  "Artoo  and  I

spotted it on our way in. He gave  it  a  quick  scan?it  didn't  seem  to  be

damaged."

"That's a relief," Mara said, a small amount of the weight  lifting  from

her back.

The Defender might be useless for getting her home, but  without  it  she

couldn't even get off the ground. "After everything Karrde went through to get

his hands on it, he'd kill me if I  lost  it.  When's  he  getting  here  with

backup?"

Luke winced. "Well, to be honest... I told him not to send anyone else."

Mara felt her mouth go a little dry. "Did you, now," she  said,  striving

to keep her voice calm. If Luke  was  starting  to  slip  back  into  his  old

omnipotent-Jedi habits... "You don't think the two  of  us  tackling  a  whole

fortress full of unknown enemies is giving us too much  of  an  advantage,  do

you?"

An odd look  flicked  across  his  face.  "That's  not  it  at  all,"  he

protested. "I just didn't think it would be a good  idea  for  a  full  battle

force to come storming into  the  system.  Especially  since  we  didn't  know

whether or not you were a prisoner."

"I suppose that makes sense," Mara conceded, the knots untying a  little.

"I guess that means you don't have  a  Star  Cruiser  skulking  in  the  outer

system, either?"

"I doubt the New Republic could spare even an armed transport right now,"

Luke said, his expression turning grim. "Things are  getting  very  nasty  out

there."

"Let me guess. Caamas and the Bothans?"

"Caamas, the Bothans, and a thousand worlds using Caamas as an excuse  to

pick up on old grudges against their neighbors," he told  her.  "And  frankly,

I'm starting to wonder if there's any way at all of stopping it."

"That's a cheery thought," Mara growled. "Let's deal with one problem  at

a time, all right? Starting with confirming these  Threateners  are  the  same

ones we're looking for. We think we spotted one of those alien  ships  on  its

way in when we came out of lightspeed, but it was too far away for a  positive

identification."

"Oh, they're the right ones," Luke assured her. "I had two of them escort

me in, then try to shoot me down."

Mara grimaced. "I guess that says whose side they're on."

"Not necessarily," Luke cautioned. "Or  at  least,  not  permanently.  We

might be able to persuade them?wait a second. The Bargainer's here."

Mara nodded; she'd already sensed the anticipation flowing ahead  of  the

new arrival. "You're going to have to translate for me," she told him. "I wish

I could hear them myself."

"It would sure make things easier," Luke agreed, forehead wrinkling  with

thought.

"I wonder if?here, give me your hand."

"My hand?" Mara echoed, frowning, as she extended her  left  hand  toward

him.

"I can sense them," he explained, taking her  hand  with  his  right  and

gripping it firmly, "and we can sense each other. If we  can  make  that  link

strong enough..."

"Worth a try," Mara agreed, stretching out  to  the  Force.  The  aliens'

communications were indeed clearer  now,  like  whispered  words  beneath  the

chirping just a little too soft to hear. She stretched  out  harder,  frowning

with concentration.

"Let's try this," Luke said, stepping close to her side  and  turning  to

face the same direction she was. Shifting her hand from his right to his left,

he slipped his right arm around her waist and leaned over to touch the side of

his head against hers.

And in that moment, like a faulty display whose self-tuning had just come

on-line, the vague sounds and sensations she'd been picking up  for  the  past

two weeks abruptly coalesced into words.

?the Bargainer for this nesting of the Qom Jha, the words flowed  through

her mind. I am known as Eater Of Fire Creepers. The Qom Jha rejoice  that  you

have come to us at last.

"We're glad to be here," Luke said gravely. "I'm Luke Skywalker,  as  you

seem to already know. This is my friend and ally, Mara Jade."

A wave of emotion swept the chamber. Why do you bring  her  here  to  us,

Master Walker Of Sky? Eater Of Fire Creepers demanded, an odd sort of  caution

in his tone.

Luke frowned. "I didn't bring her; she came of her own volition. Is there

a problem?"

Did you not heed our message regarding this Jaded Of Mara? Eater Of  Fire

Creepers asked. You surely must have received it by now.

"I've received no messages from you," Luke said. "When and where  was  it

sent?"

I do not understand, Eater Of Fire Creepers said, sounding wary now. What

do you mean by no messages?

"I mean no messages," Luke said. "I'd never heard of you  or  this  world

until I was told by Mara's friends about her capture."

But the messages have been delivered, Eater Of Fire Creepers insisted. It

was so promised by the Bargainer of the Qom Qae?

He broke off, his wings fluttering ominously. You?Qom Qae,  he  bit  out.

Stand forward and speak in your nesting's defense.

There was a sudden commotion by the section of wall where Child Of  Winds

had been perched. Mara flicked her glow rod that direction, just  in  time  to

see the small Qom Qae drop toward the floor to avoid three Qom Jha  attempting

to pounce on him.  They  altered  direction  toward  him;  changing  direction

himself, Child Of Winds curved up and over toward a wide crack in the opposite

wall near the ceiling. "Leave him alone!" Luke called sharply.  "He's  just  a

child."

He is a Qom Qae, the Bargainer spat as Child  Of  Winds  dived  headfirst

into the crack. He bears the responsibility for his nesting's treacheries.

Luke let go of Mara's hand and took a long step away from her. "You  will

not harm or harass him," he said in a tone of command, his words punctuated by

the snap-hiss and brilliant green blade of his lightsaber. "Leave  him  alone,

and I will question him."

A Jedi with ignited lightsaber, in Mara's experience, was  a  sight  that

normally caused sentient beings  to  pause  for  a  moment  or  two  of  sober

reflection. The Qom Jha either didn't understand, didn't care, or else assumed

that five meters of vertical space  would  be  adequate  protection  from  the

glowing weapon beneath them.

In the green light Mara could see Child Of Winds trying to wedge  himself

more tightly into the limited protection of  the  crack,  his  claws  slashing

ineffectually toward the three Qom Jha  fluttering  around  him.  A  half-felt

command from the Bargainer, no longer understandable now that Luke  had  moved

away from her, and another group of  Qom  Jha  detached  themselves  from  the

ceiling and moved in toward the confrontation.

And it was time, she decided, to remind the aliens  exactly  who  it  was

they were dealing with here. Tossing her glow rod over to her left  hand,  she

snatched her backup blaster from its forearm holster with her right and  fired

three precisely placed shots into the wall  around  Child  Of  Winds's  hiding

place.

With a startled screech the attacking Qom Jha shied back from the  blasts

and flying rock chips, fluttering  for  a  moment  before  settling  into  new

positions on the ceiling away from the besieged Qom Qae.  Another  half-sensed

command from the Bargainer, and a taut silence descended  on  the  cavern.  "A

minute ago you called him Master," Mara called toward the  aliens.  "Is  he  a

Jedi Master to be respected and obeyed, or isn't he?"

There was a rush of almost-words. "Translation?" Mara murmured.

"He said, 'You have no place to speak thus to the Bargainer  of  the  Qom

Jha,' " Luke told her, shifting his lightsaber to his left hand  and  stepping

back to her side. Keeping a wary gaze on the ceiling, he  again  put  his  arm

around her and touched his head to hers?

?indeed, even now you hang clutched to  crumbling  rock,  Eater  Of  Fire

Creepers's voice came into her mind again. Do you deny you are the same  Jaded

Of Mara who once flew with the nesting of the Empire?

Luke's arm seemed to tense across Mara's back. "What  do  you  mean?"  he

asked cautiously.

Those in the High Tower have made great rustlings and  bargainings  about

this being, Eater Of Fire Creepers said, his tone  dark.  Perhaps  it  is  our

trust in you which hangs from crumbling rock, Master Walker Of Sky.

"Or maybe the crumbling rock is in your own heads," Mara countered before

Luke could reply. "If any allies of the Empire  are  talking  about  me,  it's

because I'm near the top of their list of enemies. Or  didn't  you  bother  to

listen to the entire conversation?"

The Bargainer fluttered his wings again, but this time there was a  touch

of uncertainty to the gesture. Their language is not easily understandable, he

conceded. Yet we have been betrayed once already by the Qom Qae,  and  do  not

wish to add one betrayal to another. Master Walker Of Sky, you said you  would

force the Qom Qae to speak in his nesting's defense?

"I said I would question him," Luke corrected mildly,  closing  down  his

lightsaber. "Child Of Winds, come down here."

There was a moment of hesitation; and then the Qom Qae worked his way out

of the crack and dropped down to land on a stone beside Luke. I am here,  Jedi

Sky Walker, he said, keeping a wary eye on the ceiling.

"Did your nesting of the Qom Qae receive messages for me or for  the  New

Republic from this nesting  of  the  Qom  Jha?"  Luke  asked.  "And  did  your

Bargainer promise Eater Of Fire Creepers  your  nesting  would  deliver  those

messages?"

Child Of Winds seemed to hunch his wings over his head, a heavy sense  of

nervous guilt rippling from him. It is not my place to bargain for my nesting,

he said.

Hunter Of Winds?

Hunter Of Winds  is  not  here,  Eater  Of  Fire  Creepers  cut  him  off

brusquely. You will answer the question.

Child Of Winds sank lower into his wings. It is as you say,  he  conceded

reluctantly.

"Well, that's handy," Mara muttered. "We  could  have  known  about  this

place years ago."

"Sounds that way," Luke said. "Why weren't the messages delivered,  Child

Of Winds?"

Hunter Of Winds concluded it would not be safe, the young Qom Qae said. A

Qom Qae would need to  attach  himself  to  one  of  the  Threateners'  flying

machines and endure a long journey through the cold and dark before  he  could

reach you.

That is no reason  for  betrayal  of  your  bargainings,  Eater  Of  Fire

Creepers said contemptuously. The Qom Qae have flown thus through the darkness

many times, or so they claim. Admit that it was cowardice and fear that caused

your betrayal.

You of the Qom Jha are safe in your caves, Child Of Winds shot  back.  We

of the Qom Qae live in the open air.

Do the Threateners not threaten us all? Eater Of Fire Creepers  demanded,

fluttering his wings.

Do the Threateners come into your caves to seek vengeance  from  the  Qom

Jha? the young Qom Qae countered. Their vengeance would rest solely on the Qom

Qae.

Did the Qom  Jha  not  first  risk  their  lives  seeking  to  learn  the

Threateners' plans? Do the Qom Jha not continue to take such risks?

Do the Qom Jha learn anything of value? Did you not mistake  this  friend

and ally of Jedi Sky Walker as one flying in the Threateners' nesting?

"Enough," Luke called into the argument. "Whatever has happened  is  over

and done with, and trying to share out the blame won't gain us anything. Fine,

so the messages weren't delivered. But we're here now, and we're ready to help

you."

"The question," Mara added, "is whether you're worthy of our help."

Luke half turned to frown at her. "What are you??"

"Quiet," she muttered. "Trust me. Well, Eater Of Fire Creepers?"

There was another awkward silence. We fear the Threateners, the Bargainer

conceded almost grudgingly. The Qom Jha and Qom Qae alike fly in the shadow of

their talons. We would seek to have this threat removed, if you are willing.

"Yes, we  understand  your  wishes,"  Mara  said.  "But  that's  not  the

question. The question is whether you deserve our assistance. And if  so,  how

you intend to prove it."

What proof do you seek?

"For starters, we'll need assistance getting into the High  Tower,"  Mara

said. "I assume your people have been getting in from somewhere in  this  cave

system; we'll need guides to that entrance. After that, we may  need  some  of

you to run interference or scout out the territory."

The Bargainer fluttered his wings. Your request will put this nesting  in

danger.

"Your request puts us in danger," Mara countered. "Would  you  rather  we

just call off the whole thing and leave right now?"

There was a brief undercurrent of conversation, either too  fast  or  too

alien for Mara to pick up. "I hope you know what you're doing," Luke murmured.

"No matter how you slice it, we're going  to  need  guides,"  Mara  said.

"Anyway, I've dealt with this sort of culture before. Anyone who  calls  their

leader 'Bargainer' expects to be bargained with. Offering to do something  for

them free of charge and hoping they'll reciprocate usually doesn't work. Makes

them suspicious, for one thing."

Beside Luke, Child Of Winds stirred. What will you do with me  now,  Jedi

Sky Walker? he asked.

"Don't worry," Luke said. "I'll make sure you're given safe  passage  out

of here and back to your nesting."

The Qom Qae hunched his wings. I cannot go back.

Luke frowned. "Why not?"

They will not take me back, he said. I have disobeyed  the  Bargainer  of

the Qom Qae, and will not be allowed to rejoin the nesting.

Luke cocked his head to the side. "Won't be allowed to rejoin?" he  asked

pointedly. "Or won't be allowed to rejoin without punishment?"

The young alien's emotions twitched. I would prefer to go with you to the

High Tower, he said. If  I  may  see  directly  the  dangers  posed  by  these

Threateners, I will understand them better. Perhaps I will be able to persuade

others of the Qom Qae to assist you.

"As I said: bargainers," Mara said wryly.

"Yes, I'm beginning to understand,"  Luke  said  in  the  same  tone.  "I

appreciate the offer, Child Of Winds. But this is likely to be very dangerous.

"

Will your machine travel with you?

Mara glanced over at the  astromech  droid,  standing  off  to  the  side

warbling quietly to himself. "That's a  good  question,"  she  agreed.  "He'll

definitely slow us down."

"True, but if we want any chance of accessing the High  Tower's  computer

systems we'll need him along," Luke pointed out.

"Assuming he can even interface with those networks," Mara warned.  "They

are aliens, you know."

"We know they use Imperial technology in their spaceships," Luke reminded

her. "Chances are good they'll have at least a  couple  of  our  computers  up

there, too."

If your machine travels with you, why may not I? Child Of Winds spoke  up

again.

Once in the bright lights and open air of the High Tower, I  would  be  a

better scout than these cave-dwellers.

"Except that you don't know anything about the High  Tower,"  Luke  said.

"Besides, considering the rivalry between your two  nestings,  I  don't  think

Eater Of Fire Creepers will want you poking around his  territory  any  longer

than you have to."

Child Of Winds fluffed his wings. Then perhaps it is time that rivalry is

ended, he said loftily. Perhaps it is time for one brave and honorable Qom Qae

to stand forth and heal the crumbled rock beneath our talons.

Luke and Mara exchanged looks. "You?" Luke hazarded.

Do you doubt my sincerity? Child Of Winds retorted.  I,  who  defied  the

Bargainer of my own nesting to bring you here?

"It's not your sincerity we're questioning,"  Luke  assured  him.  "It's?

well?"

It is my age, then, the young Qom Qae said,  his  tone  distinctly  huffy

now. You do not believe that a child still called by  his  father's  name  can

accomplish great deeds.

Abruptly, Mara noticed that the discussion on  the  ceiling  had  ceased.

Eater Of Fire Creepers and the other Qom Jha were  listening  closely  to  the

conversation going on below them.

And it occurred to her that with a member of a rival nesting along on the

trip, whoever Eater Of Fire Creepers sent with them would bend over double  to

show how much more helpful the Qom Jha could be. "No, we're not worried  about

your age," she told Child Of Winds. "After all, I was  still  almost  a  child

when I went on my first mission for the Emperor. Luke wasn't that  much  older

when he began to fly with the warriors of the Rebellion."

She could feel Luke's frown. But he'd obviously picked up  on  her  tone,

because he nodded agreement. "She's right," he told the  Qom  Qae.  "Sometimes

the desire to succeed and the willingness to learn are more important than age

or experience."

"The 'willingness to learn' part meaning you  obey  orders,"  Mara  added

sternly, "If one of us tells you to stop, move, duck, or get out of  the  way,

you do it and ask questions afterward. Understand?"

I will obey without question, Child Of  Winds  said,  and  there  was  no

mistaking the youthful exuberance in  his  tone.  You  will  not  regret  your

decision.

Luke looked up at the Qom Jha. "The Qom Qae have given us the services of

their Bargainer's child," he said. "What do the Qom  Jha  offer  as  proof  of

their own worthiness?"

It will be hard indeed for the Qom Jha to match  such  a  valuable  gift,

Eater Of Fire Creepers said, a distinct note of sarcasm to his tone. Still, we

can but try.

He fluttered his wings in silent  command,  and  three  of  the  Qom  Jha

dropped from the ceiling to land on rock perches in front of  Luke  and  Mara.

Splitter Of Stones, Keeper Of Promises, and Builder With Vines have all defied

the dangers of the caverns to enter the High Tower. They will guide you  there

and protect you as best they can from the dangers of the caverns.

"Thank you," Luke said, inclining his head. "It appears that the Qom  Jha

are indeed worthy of our assistance."

The Qom Jha are pleased to be so considered, Eater Of Fire Creepers said.

The way is long, though, and for beings without  flight  the  journey  to  the

entrance will require several suncycles. When you  reach  the  place  and  are

prepared to enter, send word back and other hunters of the Qom Jha  will  join

you to serve as protectors.

"That will be most helpful," Luke said. "Again, I thank you."

"And I'll want my blaster and lightsaber back, too," Mara added.

They will be returned at once, Eater Of Fire Creepers promised.  We  will

speak again, Master Walker Of Sky. Until then, farewell.

He dropped from the ceiling and flapped away into the darkness beyond the

reach of the glow rods, followed by the rest of the Qom Jha. A  minute  later,

only Child Of Winds and their three Qom Jha guides remained.

"That seemed to work out all right," Mara commented.

"It did indeed," Luke agreed. "I take it all back."

"Take all what back?"

"Whatever doubts I might have had," he said.  "You  were  brilliant.  How

soon can you be ready to go?"

"I'm ready now," Mara said, running a critical eye over him.  "But  then,

I've just been sitting around for the last two weeks with nothing  to  do  but

count rocks. The question is whether you're up for a hike or if  you'd  rather

take a few hours to rest up first."

The droid warbled feelingly. "I think Artoo's voting for  a  rest,"  Luke

said with a smile. The smile faded. "But, no, I think we ought to  get  moving

as soon as we can. You heard the Bargainer?we've still got a long way ahead of

us."

"And you've got a million better things to  do  back  home,"  Mara  said,

feeling a fresh surge of guilt.

"I didn't say that," Luke said mildly.

"Doesn't mean it's not true," she growled. "Look, if you want  to  leave,

I'm sure the Qom Jha and I?"

"No," he said quickly.

Quickly; and just a little too sharply. "Someone step on your foot there?

" she asked, eyeing him curiously.

But if there had been any clues in his expression, they were buried  now.

"I need to be here," he said quietly. "Don't ask me why."

For a few heartbeats they gazed at each other. Mara  stretched  out  with

the Force, but Luke's emotions weren't giving away anything more than his face

was. "All right," she said at last. "Let me  get  my  pack.  I  don't  suppose

Karrde thought to send a spare glow rod along with you."

"As a matter of fact, he sent three," Luke said,  crouching  down  beside

his pack and pulling one of them from an outside pocket.  "Oh,  and  I  should

refill these water bottles before we  leave.  You  said  there  was  a  stream

nearby?"

"It's right over there," Mara said, waving that direction as she  stepped

over to her pack and squatted down beside it. "Hang on a second and I'll  show

you."

No, she wouldn't ask, she decided as she secured the seals. Not now.  But

she would find a way to bring up the subject again later.

Because whatever it was, it was something  that  had  Luke  worried.  And

anything that worried a Jedi Knight was something that deserved  very  careful

attention indeed.

"Okay," she said, getting to her feet and  slinging  the  pack  over  one

shoulder. "Follow me. And watch your step."

CHAPTER

7

"That's it," Han said, nodding out the Falcon's viewport. "Pakrik  Minor.

Not much to look at, is it?"

"It's beautiful," Leia assured him, gazing out at the speckled blue-green

world looming in front of them. A vacation. A real vacation. No Coruscant;  no

politics; no Caamas issue; no ancient vengeances and smoldering wars. Not even

any children, droids, or watchful Noghri  underfoot.  Just  her  and  Han  and

silence. "Farms and forests, you said?"

"That's all there is," he promised. "And we're going to get a  little  of

both.

Sakhisakh called while you were at the closing ceremonies and said they'd

found a nice little inn run by a farm family right at the edge of one  of  the

forests."

"Sounds wonderful," Leia said dreamily. "Did he give you any  more  grief

about him and Barkhimkh having to wait for us at the spaceport?"

"Oh, they're still not happy about leaving us alone like this," Han  said

with a shrug. "Especially not after that riot on Bothawui. But they  know  how

to obey orders." He smiled slyly. "And I think he felt better when I told  him

we'd be running under a fake ID."

Leia blinked. "A what?"

"Yeah?didn't I tell you?" Han  asked,  radiating  innocence.  "I  brought

along an old smuggler ID to book the room with."

She sent him one of her repertoire of patient looks. "Han,  you  know  we

can't do that."

"Sure we can," he said, as  usual  ignoring  the  look.  "Anyway,  you're

supposed to be leaving everything to me, remember?"

"I don't remember lawbreaking being on the program," Leia said.  But  the

tensions were already starting to fade away,  and  she  discovered  with  mild

surprise that the issue of false IDs wasn't even sending  a  ripple  of  guilt

through her conscience. Considering some of the things she'd done in her life?

including open and active rebellion against a legally established  government?

this was hardly something to get worked up over. "You wouldn't get  away  with

it if Threepio was here."

"Not without having to listen to a lecture, anyway," Han said,  making  a

face.

Leia smiled. "Oh, come on, Han. Admit it?you miss him, too."

"I do not," Han protested. "I just?never mind."

"Never mind what?"

Han grimaced. "Thinking about Threepio makes me think about Karrde; and I

still don't like the idea of him heading off to the Outer Rim with that  Shada

D'ukal woman. I know you didn't pick up any treachery when we talked  to  her,

but I still think she's trouble."

Leia sighed. Shada D'ukal, former bodyguard to the smuggler chief Mazzic,

who had casually slipped  through  the  Noghri  screen  around  their  Manarai

Mountain apartment and invited herself into  their  private  strategy  session

with Karrde and Lando. A potentially  powerful  ally?  Or  an  equally  deadly

enemy? "I don't particularly like it, either," she told Han. "But  Karrde's  a

big boy, and it was his idea to take her along. Did you ever get in touch with

Mazzic to ask about her, by the way?"

Han shook his head. "The word's still floating around the fringe  that  I

want to talk to him, but nothing came through before  we  left  Pakrik  Major.

'Course, now it'll have to wait till we get back."

Leia raised her eyebrows. "You mean you didn't even  tell  your  smuggler

contacts we were going to Pakrik Minor? You are serious  about  this  being  a

vacation."

"Nice," he growled.

Silence descended on the cockpit. Leia watched Pakrik Minor  as  it  came

steadily closer, trying to recover the mood she'd  had  before  the  topic  of

Karrde and Shada had come up. But for some reason the peace refused  to  come.

She stretched out with the Force, trying to calm her thoughts and emotions...

On the  control  panel,  the  proximity  warning  began  beeping.  "Crazy

hotshots," Han muttered, frowning at the displays.  "What  in  space  do  they

think they're doing?"

And with the shock of a slap to the face Leia suddenly understood.  "Han,

look out!" she blurted.

He  reacted   instantly,   old   smuggler's   reflexes   combining   with

unquestioning faith in his wife's Jedi abilities to send  the  Falcon  into  a

sharp sideways drop?

Just as a pair of brilliant red laser bolts sliced  through  space  above

them.

"Deflectors!" Han snapped, straightening out of his drop and throwing the

ship into another turn.

Leia had already hit the switch. "On," she confirmed, keying the  weapons

panel and taking a quick look at the aft display. There were three small ships

back there, starfighter size, firing again as  they  scrambled  to  match  the

Falcon's maneuvers. No IDs on any of them. "Is this part of the entertainment?

"

"Not on my ticket," Han gritted. "Thanks for the warning."

"You almost didn't get one," Leia confessed, squeezing  off  a  salvo  of

shots from the Falcon's upper quad laser battery. All four  shots  missed.  "I

thought the sense nagging at me was just me worrying about Karrde and Shada."

"Well, you can start worrying  about  us  if  you'd  rather,"  Han  said,

throwing the ship into a spiraling loop.  "Whoever  these  guys  are,  they're

good."

"I didn't want to hear that," Leia said, keying the comm.  Time  to  call

for help from Pakrik Defense.

But  their  attackers  were  way  ahead  of  her.  "They're  jamming  our

transmissions,"  she  told  Han  grimly.  "Even  the  private   New   Republic

frequencies."

"Like I said, they're good," Han grunted, leaning the Falcon into another

evasive turn. "You notice they waited until we were too close in to the planet

to jump to lightspeed, too."

More laser bolts flashed past, closer this time. Leia fired another burst

in response, again  missing.  "They're  too  maneuverable  for  the  targeting

linkage down here to handle," she said.

"Yeah, I know," Han said. "I'm heading up to the upper quad. Get ready to

take over."

Leia winced. Up there at the top of the ship, with  nothing  between  him

and the attackers' lasers except the Falcon's shields and a few centimeters of

transparisteel...

But he was right: one of them had to do it. And even with her Jedi skills

to draw on, she wasn't nearly as good a gunner as he  was.  "I'm  ready,"  she

said, gripping the copilot's helm yoke. The only way to protect him now was to

make sure none of those lasers connected. "Any suggestions on strategy?"

"Just try to keep us out of their sights," Han said, leaning some more on

his yoke. Almost reluctantly, the Falcon pulled out of its loop?  "Okay;  go,"

he said, keying control over to Leia's side and in the same motion sliding out

of his seat. "Got it?"

"Got it," Leia acknowledged. "Be careful."

"Yeah," Han said, and sprinted out of the cockpit.

Leia gave him five seconds to get to the ladder, then spun the ship  into

a dip-and-turn maneuver designed to confuse an attacker into overshooting  his

target. But their pursuers were too smart to be taken in quite  so  easily.  A

glance at the aft display showed they were still there, sticking to the Falcon

like starving mynocks. Another salvo shot past, this time a few of  the  bolts

spattering off the Falcon's deflector shield.

"Okay, I'm here," Han's voice announced over  the  comm  unit.  "How  you

doing?"

"Not as well as I'd like," Leia told him.  "I  think  they've  found  the

range."

"Yeah, I noticed," he said dryly. "It's okay?she'll hold  together.  Just

keep 'em off a few more seconds."

"I'll try," Leia said, throwing the ship into another  wrenching  evasive

pattern and trying desperately to come up with something  more  concrete  than

just trying to stay out of their way. But there was just  so  little  here  to

work with. There was Han and her and the Falcon, with the  attackers  crowding

them from behind and the sky-filling disk of Pakrik Minor  starting  to  crowd

them from in front.

Pakrik Minor... "Han, I'm going to take us in  toward  the  planet,"  she

called into the comlink. "Even with them jamming us, if we can  get  in  close

enough someone ought to notice what's happening and call in an alert."

"Sounds good," he said. "But be careful.  These  guys  aren't  built  for

atmosphere maneuvers, but neither are we. Hah!"

"What?"

"Got one. Didn't slow him down, but I think I took out his  shields.  Get

'er moving."

The deadly game continued. Leia pushed the Falcon's  sublight  drive  for

all it was worth, twisting their tortured  way  toward  the  growing  bulk  of

Pakrik Minor.

The hail of laser fire continued, most of it missing, but enough  of  the

shots  were  connecting  to  become  distinctly  worrisome.  Already  the  red

indicators on the status boards  outnumbered  the  green,  with  their  number

creeping up with every salvo. Unbidden, a memory flashed: her  first  ride  in

the Falcon as they tore madly away from the Death  Star,  blasting  their  way

through the TIE fighter sentry line in their bid for escape.

But Luke had been with them then, and Chewie and Threepio and Artoo.  And

the Falcon had been younger, less  temperamental.  Besides  which,  Vader  and

Tarkin had in fact wanted them to escape...

Abruptly, the memory was shattered by a brilliant flash  from  above  and

behind her. "Han?!"

"Got him!" Han's voice crowed from the comlink. "One down, two to go. She

holding together?"

Leia threw a quick look at the status  boards.  "Yes,  but  just  barely.

We've lost the ion flux stabilizers and we're down to less than half power  on

the sublight.

Looks like another direct hit and we'll lose the rear deflector, too."

Han grunted. "Sounds like it's time to try  something  clever.  You  ever

done a smuggler's reverse?"

"Once or twice," Leia said cautiously. "But I already  tried  a  dip-and-

turn, and that didn't do any good. They probably  know  all  about  smuggler's

reverses."

"Yeah, but you're not going to do it like they expect," Han said. "You're

going to swing the Falcon around like you're bringing her to a hard stop;  but

instead you're going to keep spinning the rest of the way around until  you're

pointing at the planet again and then gun her for all she's got. That ought to

throw them off guard."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Hang on, I'm not done," Han said. "You give them a few  seconds  to  hit

their drives to try to catch  up;  and  then  you  do  a  straight  smuggler's

reverse. With any luck, they'll shoot straight past us."

"Or ram straight into us," Leia said with a grimace. "You ready?"

"Ready. Do it."

"Here goes." Setting her teeth, Leia killed the  drive  and  twisted  the

Falcon hard over. The stars spun dizzyingly around?she caught a glimpse of the

two fighters braking hard to keep from overshooting  their  target?the  sunlit

bulk of Pakrik Minor swung back into view?

And she threw full power to the drive again,  the  acceleration  pressing

her back into her seat. "Han?"

"Perfect," he reported with grim satisfaction. "Can you give me any  more

speed?"

"Sorry, this is it," she told him, checking the displays.

"That's okay, it'll do," he assured her. "Get ready. Smuggler's reverse..

. now."

Bracing herself, Leia cut power and once again threw the  Falcon  into  a

spin. The attacking fighters swung back into view ahead of  her,  much  closer

this time and framed by the glow of their  sublight  drives  flaring  at  full

power. Killing the rotation, she threw power to the drive.

The attackers tried. They really did. But even with  their  smaller  size

they had a fair amount of inertia, and with that much power already  committed

there was no possible way  for  them  to  stop.  With  their  minds  radiating

frustration and helpless anger, they shot past the Falcon.

Or rather, one of them did.

The shock of the impact threw Leia out of her seat, the  awful  crunching

sound from somewhere aft ringing in her ears. "Leia!" Han's voice  shouted  as

the echoing noise was joined by a dozen warbling alarms. "Leia!"

"I'm all right," Leia called back over the din. "Han, we've been hit."

"Are we leaking air?"

"I don't?I don't know," Leia stammered, blinking  at  the  proper  status

board as something tried to obscure her vision. She swiped a hand  across  her

eyes;  it  seemed  to  help.  "No?hull's  still  intact.  But  the  drive  and

repulsorlifts?"

"I'll be down in a minute," Han cut her off. "Just hold her together."

A blaze of light and color caught the corner of Leia's eye. She looked up

from the controls, startled to see Pakrik Minor rotating past in front of  her

again.

The last remaining fighter was framed in  the  center  of  the  planetary

disk, waggling evasively as he tried to kill his speed.

But even as he swung back around, Han caught him dead center with a  full

salvo from the quad. With a brilliant multiple flash of fire, he was gone.

"Okay, that does it," Han called. "I'm on my way, sweetheart."

Leia nodded, swiping a hand across  her  eyes  again  and  returning  her

attention to the status boards. The sublight drive was out, but the indicators

weren't showing how much actual damage they'd taken. The repulsorlifts were in

much the same shape; the doomed fighter must have hit the  Falcon's  underside

and scraped its way back to the stern.

Hit off-center, too?the ship was still doing a slow spin. She  keyed  the

auxiliaries to try to straighten them out, noticing only then  that  the  hand

she'd swiped across her eyes had a bright streak of blood  on  it.  Stretching

out to the Force, she probed the injury and set the healing process in motion.

And then Han was there, dropping into the pilot's seat beside her. "Okay,

let's see," he muttered, keying his own status board. He glanced at her, did a

startled double take as he spotted the blood on her forehead. "Leia?!"

"I'm all right?it's just a cut," Leia assured him. "What are we going  to

do about the drive?"

"Fix it, that's what," Han grunted, climbing out of the seat again.  "And

we'd better do it fast."

He took off at a dead run. Leia finished adjusting the Falcon's  rotation

and looked up again?

And caught her breath. Pakrik Minor, which had been  uncomfortably  large

during the battle, now filled that whole section of the sky.

And was getting closer.

The Falcon had been with the two of them all their married life, and with

Han even longer than that, and Leia knew it would hurt him terribly to let the

ship go. But it was the height of  foolishness  to  hold  so  closely  to  any

possession that it killed you. Grimacing, she keyed for escape pod activation.

Nothing happened.

"Oh, no," she breathed, keying it again, and again. "No."

But the result didn't change. The escape pods were inoperative.

And she and Han were trapped in a  ruined  ship,  plummeting  toward  the

ground.

Swallowing hard, she keyed the comm. It would  be  close,  but  with  the

jamming now gone, maybe help could get to them in time.

But the comm indicator glowed  red,  one  more  casualty  of  the  doomed

fighter's impact. They were cut off, and all alone.

And they were about to die.

Leia took a deep breath, stretching out to the Force to silence the fear.

Now was no time to panic.  "Han,  the  escape  pods  aren't  functional,"  she

called, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

"I know," his taut voice came back. "I spotted that when I was up  there.

Try the restart booster."

She found the key, pressed it. "Anything?"

"Not yet," he said. "Let me try something else."

"You want me to come help you?"

"No, I need you up there at the controls," Han said.  "And  keep  an  eye

out?if you spot another ship, try firing an emergency signal  blast  from  the

quads."

And hope that any such convenient ships weren't running  backup  for  the

last group. "Right."

The minutes dragged on. The red lights began to wink tentatively back  to

green as Han worked; but not enough of them, and not  nearly  fast  enough.  A

whistling sound, soft at first but growing ever  louder,  began  to  fill  the

cockpit as the Falcon pushed its way through Pakrik Minor's  upper  atmosphere

without the benefit of shields to dampen the sound and the friction. The  deep

black of space above her began to take on a slight haze  as  they  drove  ever

deeper, and Leia could feel the temperature slowly edging up. Below  her,  the

planetary features were beginning to take on form: here a lake, over  there  a

mountain ridge, directly beneath and ahead a wide and fertile valley.

"Try the restart again," Han said into the silence  of  Leia's  thoughts,

his voice startling her.

"Right." She keyed the switch,  and  this  time  there  was  a  tentative

answering rumble from the drive.

"All right, easy," Han warned. "Don't try to stop  us  all  at  once?this

jury-rig can't handle too much. Just ease in some power and  see  if  you  can

start slowing us down. And if you've got any Jedi tricks up your sleeve,  it's

about time to give them a try."

"I'm already trying," Leia said, her heart aching  within  her.  She  had

been trying, in fact, ever since realizing the full extent of the danger  they

were in.

She'd tried to contact any Force-sensitives in the  system,  had  quieted

the distractions in Han's mind so that he  could  concentrate  better  on  his

work, had stretched out to the Force looking for guidance or inspiration.  But

none of it seemed to have helped; and with an  almost  overpowering  sense  of

helplessness she knew there was nothing more she could do. She couldn't repair

the sublight engines with a wave of her hand, or stop the Falcon's  inexorable

fall planetward, or call for help where none existed.

We're doomed. Threepio's oft-repeated wail echoed through  her  mind.  It

was just as well he wasn't  here,  she  decided.  Or  the  children,  safe  on

Kashyyyk under Chewbacca's care. Or even their Noghri guards. If it was  their

time to die, there was no need for anyone else  to  go  with  them.  Good-bye,

Jacen, Jaina, Anakin, she thought toward the stars, knowing that  the  message

would almost certainly not reach them, wishing with a  deep  regret  that  she

could see them one last time. On the status board, almost lost  in  the  chaos

there, the proximity warning began beeping?

And to Leia's shock, a small  craft  roared  past  overhead.  "Han!"  she

shouted. "Another ship just?"

She broke off, the sudden surge of hope  catching  like  a  bone  in  her

throat. The ship had slowed to match speeds with the Falcon, riding above  and

just ahead of it, and giving her her first clear look at it.

"A ship?" Han called excitedly. "Where?"

Leia took a ragged breath. A  second  ship  had  joined  the  first  now,

paralleling the Falcon above and to the right, a third had taken  up  position

on the left, and the aft display showed one more  flying  directly  above  the

sublight vents. "Never mind," she told  Han  quietly.  "They're  Imperial  TIE

interceptors."

CHAPTER

8

"They're what?" There was the staccato clank of a set of tools landing on

the deck. "Hang on, I'm on my way."

Leia looked up at the ships pacing them. TIE interceptors, all right.  In

excellent condition, too, from what she could see of them,  and  she  wondered

where they could have come from. Surely the  Imperials  weren't  launching  an

all-out attack on the Pakrik system; with the sector conference over  and  the

delegates on their way back to their home systems there was nothing here  they

could possibly want.

Unless, of course, they were the backup for the first three fighters.  In

which case, they were here to make sure the job was finished.

With a screech of boots on hull plates Han skidded to a halt beside  her.

"What are they doing?" he panted, peering up at them.

Leia frowned. "Nothing," she said, realizing belatedly just how odd their

lack of activity was. To just sit out there and watch them crash seemed overly

sadistic, even for Imperials. At least for line  soldiers;  she'd  known  some

Moffs and Grand Moffs who would have reveled in something like this.

"They're maneuvering," Han said suddenly,  pointing.  "That  one  on  the

left?see?

He's drifting out a little."

"I see," Leia said. "But what's the maneuvering for?"

An instant later she got her answer. In perfect unison, a  bright  yellow

disk connected by a yellow cable shot out from the underside of  each  of  the

four TIEs, slamming solidly onto positions on the  Falcon's  upper  hull.  The

cables went taut; and with a jerk that nearly knocked Han off  his  feet,  the

ship's descent abruptly slowed.

Leia looked up at Han, saw her own bewilderment  mirrored  in  his  face.

"I'll be sat on by a Hutt," he murmured. "Grappling mags." He  sank  into  the

pilot's chair, looked over at her. "I give up. What's going on?"

Leia shook her head. "I don't know," she said slowly, stretching out with

the Force. "But there's something about these pilots, Han."

"Like what?"

"I can't tell yet," Leia said again. "But something very strange."

"You're telling me." He nodded toward the viewport.  "Well,  whatever  it

is, we ought to find out about it pretty soon. Looks like we're already coming

down."

He was right. They had passed over a line of low hills and the  TIEs  had

now dropped to barely treetop height. Rolling along  beneath  them  were  vast

fields of tallgrain, the neat rows rippling with the wind  of  their  passage.

They passed an access path, more fields, another path, still more  fields.  At

the far side of this set were another collection of  hills,  taller  than  the

group they'd passed a few kilometers back.

And at the base of the tallest of the hills, little more than a dark spot

in the hazy afternoon sunlight, was a cave.

"Yeah, that's where we're going, all right," Han said. "Nice and private,

unless whoever owns these fields  happens  to  be  out  working  them.  Got  a

reception committee already waiting, too, I see."

Leia nodded, squinting against  the  sunlight  at  the  figures  standing

outside the cave. "I count... looks like ten of them."

"Plus the four TIE pilots, plus whoever else is hanging  around  inside,"

Han agreed, reaching under his control board and retrieving  his  blaster  and

holster from the storage niche there.

"You have a plan?" Leia asked, eyeing the blaster.

"Not really," Han said as he buckled on the holster. "I'm  not  going  to

charge out shooting, if that's what you're worried about. If  they  wanted  us

dead, they would have just let us crash."

"Maybe they think the children are with  us,"  Leia  said,  a  shiver  of

unpleasant memories running through her. After all the times her children  had

been kidnapped or threatened...

"If they do, they're going to be real disappointed," Han said,  his  tone

deadly.

Deliberately, he checked his blaster and shoved it back in  the  holster.

"And in a lot of trouble, too."

He nodded toward her waist. "Almost time for the  party,  hon.  Shouldn't

you be getting dressed, too?"

"Right," Leia said, pulling her lightsaber out  of  her  board's  storage

compartment and hooking it to her belt. Calming her thoughts, she reached  out

to the Force for strength and wisdom. "I'm ready."

A minute later they reached the hills; and directly in front of the cave,

as Han had predicted, the TIEs slipped into full repulsorlift mode  and  eased

the Falcon smoothly to the ground. They released the grappling mags and reeled

them back in, and with practiced ease lined up and began  maneuvering  one  by

one into the cave.

"At least that explains how they showed up from nowhere,"  Han  commented

as he shut down what was left of the Falcon's systems. "Three'll get  you  the

hand pot this is one of Grand Admiral Thrawn's sleeper cells."

"I always thought those were just a myth," Leia  said,  gazing  into  the

darkness of the cave. "Disinformation the Empire came up  with  after  Thrawn?

well, after we thought he was dead."

"I'm still not convinced he isn't," Han growled, standing up and stepping

back toward the door. "No point in putting this off. Let's go  see  what  they

want."

One of the reception committee was waiting at the bottom of the  ramp  as

Han unsealed the hatchway. He  was  a  tall  man,  roughly  Han's  height  and

strongly built, with dark eyes and a thick shock of long black hair.  "Hello,"

he said, nodding as they started down the ramp. His voice was  genial  enough,

but there was a definite tension in his face and stance. "Either of you  hurt?

Councilor, you're bleeding."

"Just a scratch," Leia assured him, rubbing at the dried blood. That  odd

sense she'd felt with the TIE pilots was back again, stronger than ever. "It's

already mostly healed."

The man nodded, some of his black hair dropping across his eyes with  the

movement. "Yes, of course. Jedi healing techniques."

"Where's the rest of your group?" Han  asked,  glancing  around  as  they

reached the bottom of the ramp.

"Checking out your ship," the man replied, pointing behind them.

Leia turned. The others they'd seen waiting were walking around under the

Falcon, looking and poking as they assessed the damage. "That  second  Korlier

did a number on you, didn't it?" the first  man  continued.  "You're  lucky?if

he'd rammed you a little higher up, he'd have taken out your  power  core  and

probably breached your hull along with it."

"So those were Korlier Flashships, huh?" Han said, his tone that  of  one

professional exchanging shop talk with another. "I've heard of them, but never

seen one before."

"They're not very common," the man agreed. "But since the Korlier Combine

doesn't put serial numbers on any of  their  models,  they're  a  favorite  of

people who don't want their identities traced."

"Sort of just the opposite of  TIE  interceptors,"  Han  said  pointedly,

nodding back toward the cave opening.

The man gave him a bittersweet smile. "Something like that," he said. "My

name's Sabmin Devist, by the way. Welcome to Imperial Sleeper Cell Jenth-44."

"Nice to be here," Han said with only a hint of sarcasm. "So what happens

now?"

"We talk," a voice came from their right.

Leia turned. Coming around the side of the Falcon was a man dressed in  a

TIE pilot's flight suit. About Sabmin's height and build, she noticed, with  a

shorter version of his same black hair and a well-trimmed  beard.  "My  name's

Carib Devist, Councilor Organa Solo," he said as  he  crossed  toward  Sabmin.

"I'm sort of the spokesman for this group."

"You're  Sabmin's  brother?"  Leia  asked.  The  family  resemblance  was

obvious.

Carib smiled faintly. "That's what we tell people," he said. "Actually...

"

He stepped to Sabmin's side. "Seeing as you're a Jedi,  I  don't  suppose

it'll take you long."

Leia frowned, wondering what he was getting at.  The  two  of  them  just

stood there, watching her, Sabmin's hair rustling in the breeze...

And then, abruptly, it hit her. Sabmin, Carib?

She twisted her head. Behind them,  the  men  who'd  been  examining  the

Falcon had come out from under the ship and were standing silently in  a  row,

also watching.

Different clothing, different hairstyles, some with beards or  mustaches,

here and there a scar?

But otherwise identical. Completely identical. "Han...?"

"Yeah," he said; and as she focused on his thoughts, she knew  that  he'd

caught on, too. "Brothers, huh?"

Carib shrugged uncomfortably. "It sounds better," he said quietly,  "than

clones."

For a long minute the only sound was the soft hiss of the breeze rustling

through the tallgrain stalks. "Ah," Han said at  last,  his  voice  studiously

casual. "That's nice. So what's it like being a clone?"

Carib smiled bitterly?the exact same smile, Leia  noted  with  a  private

shudder, that Sabmin had shown a minute earlier. "About as you'd  expect,"  he

said. "It's the sort of secret that gets heavier with time and age."

"Yeah," Han said. "I can imagine."

Carib's face hardened. "Excuse me, Solo, but you can't  possibly  imagine

it.

Every time one of us leaves this valley  it's  with  the  knowledge  that

every outside contact puts our lives and those of our families  at  risk.  The

knowledge that all it will take will be one person suddenly looking at us with

new eyes, and the whole carefully created soap  bubble  of  the  ever-so-close

Devist family will collapse into the fire of hatred and rage and murder."

"I think you're overstating your case a little," Leia suggested. "We're a

long way past the devastation of the Clone Wars.  The  old  prejudices  aren't

nearly so strong anymore."

"You think not, Councilor?"  Carib  countered.  "You're  a  sophisticated

woman, a politician and diplomat, fully accustomed to dealing with  the  whole

spectrum of sentient beings. And you're good at it. Yet you, too, are  feeling

uncomfortable in our presence. Admit it."

Leia sighed. "Perhaps a little," she conceded. "But I don't know  you  as

well as your friends and neighbors do."

Carib shook his head. "We have no friends," he said. "And if we're a long

way past the Clone Wars, we're not nearly so far past Grand  Admiral  Thrawn's

use of soldiers like us in his bid for power."

"Is that who you're working for now?" Leia asked, studying Carib's  face.

There was something disturbingly familiar about him...

"The orders have come in over Thrawn's name," Carib said cautiously. "But

of course, you can put any name on any order."

Beside her, Leia felt Han's sense suddenly change. "I got  it,"  he  said

with a soft snap of his fingers. "Baron Fel. Right?"

"Baron Soontir Fel?" Leia asked, her stomach tightening with  the  sudden

realization. Yes, that was who Carib reminded her of:  a  young  Soontir  Fel.

Once the Empire's top TIE pilot, Fel had married Wedge Antilles's  sister  and

then been forced to strike a reluctant deal with Rogue Squadron  to  save  his

wife after Imperial Intelligence Director Ysanne Isard set out  to  kill  her.

The rescue had succeeded, but an impeccably laid trap had subsequently  snared

Fel  himself  back  into  Isard's  hands.  At  that  point  he'd  disappeared,

presumably to a brief trial and a quick execution.

Except that all that had happened only a few months  after  Endor,  years

before Thrawn had returned from the Unknown  Regions  and  begun  his  cloning

operation.

Which left the question?

Han got there first. "So how come Fel lived long enough for Thrawn to get

the cloning tanks up and running?" he asked.

Carib shook his head, a brief flicker of  pain  crossing  his  face.  "We

don't know," he said in a low voice. "Our flash-learning didn't include any of

Fel's personal history. We assume?" He hesitated. "We  can  only  assume  that

whatever sympathies he might have had toward the New Republic were burned  out

of him by Isard."

"Or by Thrawn?" Han asked.

"Or by Thrawn," Carib agreed heavily. "Otherwise, I doubt Fel would  have

been thought reliable enough to have clones taken from him. No matter how good

a pilot he was."

There was another moment of silence. Leia stretched out with  the  Force,

but if Carib was disturbed by the discussion of wrecked minds, it  was  masked

by the odd clone-sense surrounding all of them. "Yet you saved our lives  just

now," she reminded him.

"Don't give them too much credit on that one," Han  growled.  "If  they'd

left us alone, we'd have hit dead center in this valley of theirs.  You  think

their secret could have stood up to all the investigators who'd  have  swarmed

over the place?"

"Yet our secret is now out anyway," Carib reminded him calmly. "Depending

on what you decide to do."

"Maybe," Han said,  his  hand  dropping  casually  to  hover  beside  his

blaster. "Or maybe depending on what you plan to do."

Carib shook his head. "You misunderstand. We have no intention of harming

you.

Nor do we wish to fight for Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Empire."

Han's forehead wrinkled. "So, what, you're surrendering?"

"Not exactly." Carib seemed to brace himself. "What we want?all  that  we

want?is your word that we'll be left alone here."

Han and Leia exchanged glances. "You want what?" Leia asked.

"What, is that too high a price to pay for  saving  your  lives?"  Sabmin

demanded.

"Considering what you owe us?"

"Wait a minute," Han said, holding up a hand. "Let me get this  straight.

You were created by Thrawn?"

A muscle in Carib's cheek twitched, but he nodded. "Correct."

"This is Grand Admiral Thrawn we're talking about, right?" Han persisted.

"The guy who wants to bring the Empire back? The guy who picked the  best  and

most loyal TIE pilots, AT-AT drivers, and whatever to run  through  his  clone

tanks?"

Carib shook his head again. "You still don't understand. Certainly  Baron

Fel was loyal to the Empire, or at least what the  Empire  was  before  insane

butchers like Isard took over. In his era, the Empire stood for stability  and

order."

"Which you in the New Republic could use a little more of at the moment,"

Sabmin put in pointedly.

"Let's leave the politics out of this," Leia put in  quickly  before  Han

could come up with a good retort. "I'm still confused. If Baron Fel was  loyal

to the Empire, and if you see the need to reestablish that kind of order?"

"And if Thrawn's really back," Han muttered.

"And if Thrawn's really back," Leia agreed, "then why would you  want  to

sit this one out?"

Carib smiled sadly. "Because for once, the  great  Grand  Admiral  Thrawn

miscalculated," he said. "There was one thing Fel cherished more than personal

glory or even galactic stability."

He waved a hand around him, the gesture taking in the fields  surrounding

them. "He loved the soil," he said quietly. "And so do we."

And finally Leia understood.

She looked  at  Han.  "He's  kidding,  right?"  her  husband  asked,  his

expression and thoughts clearly not believing any of it.  "I  mean?look,  Luke

couldn't wait to get off that farm on Tatooine."

"Luke was on a moisture farm in the middle of a  desert,"  Leia  reminded

him, letting her gaze sweep slowly across the neat rows of tallgrain, her  own

memories of the rich vegetation of Alderaan tugging at her.  "It  was  nothing

like this."

"You feel it, too, don't you?" Carib said softly. "Then you understand."

He looked around the fields. "This is our life now, Councilor.  Our  land

and our families are what matter to us. Politics, war, even flying?that's  all

in the past." He brought his gaze back. "Do you believe us?"

"I'd like to," Leia said. "How far are you willing to go to prove it?"

Carib braced himself. "As far as necessary."

Leia nodded and stepped up to him, sensing Han's flicker of uneasiness as

she left his side, and locked eyes with the young clone. Calming her mind, she

stretched out to his mind with the Force. He stood impassively,  allowing  the

probe without flinching... and by the time she stepped back again, she had  no

more doubts. "He means it, Han," she confirmed. "They all do."

"So that's it, huh?" Han said. "We're just going to head  off  and  leave

them here?"

"We'll repair your ship first, of course," Carib  said.  "The  MX  droids

that handle maintenance on our fighters can probably have it running in a  day

or two."

To Leia's surprise, Han shook  his  head.  "Not  good  enough,"  he  said

firmly. "You're asking us to protect an  Imperial  sabotage  group.  That's  a

pretty big risk for us, you know."

The group off to the side stirred. "What are you trying??" someone began.

Carib silenced him with a gesture, a slight smile tugging at the  corners

of his mouth. "You always were an operator, Solo," he said dryly. "What do you

want?"

"You don't want to fight anymore," Han said. "That's fine; neither do we.

But if we don't get this Caamas thing resolved fast, none of us are  going  to

have any choice in the matter."

"Your point?" Carib asked.

"We need to find out which Bothans were involved in the hit  on  Caamas,"

Han said.

"And there's only one place we know we can get those names from."

Carib's lips compressed briefly. "The Empire."

"Specifically, the central Imperial records  library  on  Bastion,"  Leia

said, seeing now where Han was going with this. "The problem is that we  don't

know where Bastion is."

"We don't either," Sabmin said. "Our  orders  come  from  the  Ubiqtorate

through a special channel. We've never been directly in touch with Bastion  or

the current Imperial leadership."

"Sure, but there must be some way you can get  an  emergency  message  to

them," Han said. "Imperial ops procedures can't have slipped that badly."

Carib and Sabmin exchanged glances. "There is a  place  at  the  edge  of

Imperial space where we can go," Carib said doubtfully. "But it's not supposed

to be used unless  there's  vital  information  that  can't  wait  for  proper

channels."

"I think we can come up with something that qualifies," Han said. "If  we

can, will you take me out there?"

"Wait a minute," Leia cut in. "Don't you mean take us out there?"

"Sorry, hon," Han said, shaking his head.  "But  if  there's  one  person

everyone in the Empire knows by sight, it's you."

"Oh, really?" Leia countered. "You think you're any better?"

"I wasn't ever president of the New Republic," Han pointed out. "Besides,

one of us has to go."

"Why?" Leia demanded, a dull ache around her heart. Han had done a lot of

crazy things in his life; but walking into the heart of the Empire was  beyond

even his old smuggler's rashness. "The New  Republic  has  other  people  they

could send."

"Yeah, but which ones can we trust?" Han asked. "Besides, we  don't  have

time to go back and hunt up a team. The whole New  Republic's  balanced  on  a

blade edge right now."

"But you can't go alone," Leia insisted. "And don't forget  I'm  a  Jedi.

Any trouble you get into?"

"We've got company," one of the clones announced suddenly, pointing.

Leia looked. Just clearing the distant  hills,  a  low-flying  craft  was

burning through the air toward them. "Carib, you'd better get the others  into

the  cave,"  she  told  him,  running  through  her  Jedi  sensory-enhancement

techniques and squinting at the approaching vehicle. "Better yet, you'd better

all go. That looks like our Noghri guards' Khra shuttle."

"Too late," Carib said,  his  eyes  on  the  approaching  vehicle  as  he

gestured the others to stay where they were. "If there are  Noghri  in  there,

they already have us under surveillance. Trying to slip out of sight now  will

just make things worse."

The shuttle was almost to them,  skimming  low  over  the  tallgrain  and

showing no sign of stopping. Han made an unintelligible noise in the  back  of

his throat, and even Leia felt a twinge of uncertainty. It looked like a  Khra

shuttle, but at the speed it was making, that was impossible to confirm. If it

was instead a follow-up attack...

And then, at almost the last second, the craft braked hard, coming  to  a

midair halt. A short gray figure dropped out the passenger-side door, and  the

shuttle shot off again, swinging high over the cave and hills before  circling

back toward the group gathered around the Falcon.

"Councilor," Barkhimkh said gravely, recovering his balance quickly after

his three-meter drop and marching toward them. He had no visible weapons,  but

with a Noghri that didn't mean a lot. "The Pakrik Defense monitor said that  a

ship had come under attack, and surmised it was yours. We are pleased to  find

you uninjured."

"Thank  you,  Barkhimkh,"  Leia  said,  keeping  her  voice  as   gravely

unemotional as his. What he really wanted to do, she knew, was to express  his

deep shame and self-loathing that he and Sakhisakh hadn't been there  to  help

protect them from the attack. But he would never reveal even a  hint  of  such

feelings in front of strangers. "We appreciate your concern," she  added.  "As

you see, we were able to land safely among friends."

"Yes," the Noghri said, his eyes measuring the group with a single  well-

trained glance. "I presume you will now be"?his voice faltered just  slightly?

"returning with us?"

An almost undetectable slip; but for Leia it was enough.  "No,  it's  all

right," she said quickly, taking a step toward Carib. "They're  not  going  to

hurt us."

"You do not understand," Barkhimkh snarled. There was  contempt  suddenly

in his voice, and a blaster just as suddenly in his hand. "They  are  Imperial

clones."

"They're clones, yes," Leia said. "But they're on our side now."

Barkhimkh spat. "They are Imperials."

"So were the Noghri, once," Carib said quietly.

Barkhimkh's blaster twitched toward him, his large black  eyes  flashing.

Any mention of their long servitude to the Empire by outsiders was  considered

a deadly insult. "No," Leia said firmly, reaching out with the Force  to  turn

the blaster muzzle aside.  "They  saved  our  lives,  and  they've  asked  for

sanctuary."

"You may trust them as you choose,  Councilor,"  Barkhimkh  said  darkly.

"But I do not."

But  nevertheless  the  blaster  disappeared.  "There   was   an   urgent

transmission from Coruscant for you shortly after you departed Pakrik  Major,"

the Noghri said, waving a stand-down signal toward his partner in the circling

shuttle. "Did you receive it?"

"No," Leia said, frowning. She hadn't realized the Noghri  were  able  to

tap into their private communications. "It probably  came  in  while  we  were

being jammed.

Did you get a copy?"

"Sakhisakh will bring it," Barkhimkh said, nodding his head  fractionally

toward the shuttle now landing off to the side. "We of course did not  attempt

to decrypt it."

Which didn't necessarily mean they couldn't do so if  they'd  wanted  to.

"Have him bring it into the Falcon, please," she instructed. "I'll go get  the

decrypt ready. You wait here with Han  and  help  Carib  and  the  others  get

repairs organized."

Ten minutes later, seated at the Falcon's game table as  Sakhisakh  stood

watchful guard between her and the hatchway, she slid the  datacard  into  her

datapad.

The message was short, and very much to the point:

Leia,  this  is  General  Bel  Iblis.  I've  just  received  some   vital

information and urgently need to talk to you. Please  stay  on  Pakrik  Minor;

I'll be arriving there in three days and will meet you  at  the  North  Barris

Spaceport. Please treat this communication with the utmost security.

Leia frowned, the skin on the back of her  neck  tingling.  What  in  the

worlds could Bel Iblis have found that he would need to come all the  way  out

here? And why her, of all people?

There was the clank of boots on metal, and  she  looked  up  to  see  Han

stride  in  past  Sakhisakh.  "Looks  pretty  straightforward,  I  guess,"  he

reported, sliding into the seat beside her. "The head droid  thinks  they  can

have her back together in a couple of  days.  So  what's  this  big  important

message?"

Wordlessly, Leia handed over the  datapad.  Han  read  it,  his  forehead

wrinkling as he did so. "This is interesting," he declared, setting  down  the

datapad. "How did Bel Iblis know we were here?"

"Gavrisom must have told him," Leia said. "He's the only one who knew  we

were coming to Pakrik Minor after the conference was over."

"Yeah, well, those three Korliers knew  it,  too,"  Han  said  pointedly,

swiveling the datapad around to look at the message again. "How sure  are  you

that this is really from Bel Iblis?"

"About as sure as it's possible to be," Leia said. "It has his  signature

code, plus the bridgebreak confirmation."

"That's, what, that crypt-embedded code trick Ghent came up with a couple

of months ago?"

"That's the one," Leia said. "I don't think the Imperials even  know  the

codes are in there, let alone have a way to access or duplicate them."

"Unless Ghent was using the same trick back when he was still working for

Karrde," Han mused, rubbing his chin. "Could be the Imperials picked up on  it

then."

"No, Bel Iblis asked him that when he first proposed the technique," Leia

said.

"Ghent said it was something he'd just developed."

"Mm." Han read the message again. "No idea what this is about?"

"None," Leia said. "I guess we'll find out in a couple of days."

"Well, you'll find out, anyway," Han said. "Carib and I will be long gone

by then."

Leia took a deep breath, the ache returning abruptly to her chest. "Han?"

"No argument, hon," Han said quietly, reaching over to take her hand.  "I

don't like it, either. But if we don't get this stopped, everything's going to

go up in smoke. You know that better than I do."

"We don't know that," Leia argued. "We've got the New Republic government

and Luke's Jedi students to help hold things together. If it  comes  to  civil

war, we can force the Bothans to pay whatever reparations are necessary,  even

if it winds up wrecking their economy."

"You really think the Diamala will let Gavrisom force them into that kind

of self-destruction?" Han  countered.  "Not  to  mention  the  Mon  Cals,  the

Sif'kries, and whoever else has lined up on the Bothans' side since yesterday?

Come on, we didn't win the war with wishful thinking."

"Well, then, what about Karrde?" Leia asked, trying one last time.

"What about him?" Han asked. "Just because he's gone out  looking  for  a

copy of the Caamas Document doesn't mean he's going  to  find  it.  Matter  of

fact, he didn't seem too confident about it himself. If he had, he would  have

asked for half the payment up front."

Leia glared at him. "I'm being serious."

"So am I," Han said, squeezing her hand. "You think I want to go  walking

into the middle of the Empire? Look, you can talk all you want  about  holding

things together; but if the New Republic blows, you and Gavrisom and  all  the

Jedi in Luke's school aren't going to be able to put it back together. And  if

that happens, what kind of life are Jacen and Jaina and Anakin going to  have?

Or Chewie's cubs, or Cracken's grandkids, or anyone else? I don't like it  any

better than you do, but it's got to be done."

Leia took a deep breath, stretching out to the Force. No, she didn't like

it at all. But at the same time, paradoxically, it  somehow  felt  right.  Not

pleasant, certainly not safe, but right. "You aren't going  alone,  are  you?"

she sighed. "I mean someone besides Carib?"

"Yeah, I've got someone in mind," Han said, his voice an odd  mixture  of

relief and regret. Relief, she suspected, because his Jedi wife  wasn't  going

to insist he not go; regret for exactly the same reason.

Leia managed a smile. "Lando?"

"How'd you guess?" Han said, managing an answering smile. "Yeah. Him  and

a couple others." He half turned to look at Sakhisakh. "Not you, in  case  you

were going to ask."

"I  would  advise  you  reconsider,"  Sakhisakh  said.  "A  Noghri  guard

disguised as your slaves could be unobtrusive even on an Imperial world."  His

eyes flicked to Leia. "We have already failed you twice, Lady Vader, first  on

Bothawui and now here. We could not endure the shame and disgrace of  a  third

such failure."

"Disgrace isn't going to matter much if you get us picked  up  ten  steps

off the ramp," Han  pointed  out.  "Sorry,  but  Lando  and  me  can  do  this

ourselves. You just keep an eye on Leia, all right?"

"Do not fear," Sakhisakh said, a dark menace in his voice. "We will."

Under the table,  Leia  caught  Han's  hand.  "So  much  for  our  little

vacation," she said, forcing a smile that probably looked as  unconvincing  as

it felt.

The look that flickered across Han's face made her wish she  hadn't  said

that. "I'm sorry, Leia," he said in a low voice. "We never seem to get a break

from all this, do we?"

"Not very often," she agreed  with  a  sigh.  "If  I'd  realized  at  the

beginning how much all of this was going to cost... I don't know."

"I do," Han said. "You'd have died on Alderaan, Palpatine would still  be

running the Empire, and I'd still be shipping spice for slimetails like Jabba.

All that by itself makes it worth it."

"You're right," Leia said, feeling slightly  ashamed  of  her  moment  of

self-pity.

"When were you and Carib planning to leave?"

"Well, let's  see,"  Han  said  consideringly,  an  unexpected  glint  of

roguishness touching the somber tone of his  emotions.  "I've  got  to  get  a

transmission across to Lando, and Carib's got to roll their freighter out  and

run a check on it. And he's a family man, too, so he's going to need  time  to

say good-bye to his wife and kids. So let's say... tomorrow morning?"

Translation: he'd told Carib they  weren't  leaving  till  morning,  with

whatever excuses he'd needed to make it stick. "Thank you," she said  quietly,

squeezing his hand and trying the smile again. It felt much better this time.

"It's not what I was looking for," Han said. "But  I  guess  it's  better

than nothing."

"Much better," she assured him. "But do you think all  these  crises  can

wait an extra night?"

"I don't know," Han said, sliding out of his seat and  offering  her  his

arm in one of those old Royal Alderaanian gestures he too rarely used. "But  I

guess they'll have to."

CHAPTER

9

Outside the curved transparisteel canopy came one last burst  of  bubbles

from the blue-veined rock formation rising from the ocean floor.  As  if  that

had been a signal, the blazelights illuminating the area  began  to  dim.  The

quiet buzz of conversation in the observation gallery stopped in anticipation.

Standing against the back wall, Lando Calrissian smiled in  some  private

anticipation of his own. When he and Tendra Risant  had  first  proposed  this

undersea mining operation, her family had been  less  than  enthusiastic;  but

they had been openly critical of his idea to add  an  observation  gallery  so

that paying customers could watch. Ridiculous, they had said?no one pays  good

money to watch miners mining, even aquatic miners in  the  admittedly  unusual

locale of the Varn ocean floor. But Lando had insisted, and Tendra had  backed

him up, and the family's financiers  had  grudgingly  forked  over  the  extra

money.

Which made it that much more of a pleasure to watch packed galleries like

this one waiting eagerly for the show.

The blazelights finished their fade,  leaving  the  rock  formation  just

barely visible as a dark shape against the slightly  lighter  seawater  around

it. Someone in the gallery murmured to a friend...

And suddenly there was a single point of blue-green fire at one  edge  of

the rock.

The point grew rapidly, becoming a line and then a pair of branches,  and

finally an arachnid-web of light as  the  blue  veins  of  fraca  ignited  and

burned.

And then the sheets of yellow bubbles appeared as the heat of the burning

fraca set off the tertian beneath it, and for perhaps the next thirty  seconds

the entire formation was surrounded by a twisting fury of fire and light. Like

a living creature writhing in the silent agony of its death throes?

And with a shower of multicolored sparks and one final flurry of bubbles,

the formation collapsed into a pile of rocks.

Someone gasped; and as the sparks and bubbles faded and the  blaze-lights

began to come up again  there  was  a  ripple  of  spontaneous  applause.  The

gallery's own lights came back, and with a buzz of  excited  conversation  the

audience began their exit back to the casino areas. Lando waited by  the  door

as they filed out, smiling, accepting compliments, answering a  scattering  of

questions covering the usual range of intelligent to banal, and  as  the  last

two Duros filed out he reset the doorway for  general  admission.  The  miners

were scheduled to collapse one more ore formation today, but until  that  time

the gallery would be open, free of charge, to anyone who wanted to come in and

watch.

He was just starting down the corridor toward the Tralus  Room  when  his

comlink beeped. Pulling it out, he thumbed it on. "Calrissian."

"Transmission coming in on the surface link," the voice of Chief  Command

Officer Donnerwin announced. "It's encrypted and marked private."

"I'll take it in my office," Lando told him, keying off the  comlink  and

changing direction. Tendra, perhaps, calling  to  say  she'd  wrapped  up  her

Corellian trip and was heading back to join  him.  Or  maybe  it  was  Senator

Miatamia  or  another  Diamalan  official  with  news   about   the   security

arrangements he was hoping to make with them for his ore shipments.

Either one would be welcome. Reaching his office,  he  sealed  the  door,

dropped into his desk chair, and with twice the  anticipation  those  gamblers

back in the gallery had shown he keyed the comm.

It wasn't Tendra. It wasn't even Miatamia. "Hi, Lando," Han said, an all-

too-familiar half smile on his face. "How're things going?"

"A lot better two minutes ago than they are now,"  Lando  told  him,  the

anticipation popping like a bubble and settling into the pit  of  his  stomach

like a bad feeling. "I know that look. What do you want?"

"I need you to go on a little trip with me," Han said. "Can you get  away

for a few days?"

The feeling in Lando's stomach got a little colder. No who-mes, no  what-

makes-you-think-I-want-somethings, no banter of any sort. Whatever  was  going

on, Han was deadly serious about it. "That depends," he hedged. "How dangerous

is this little trip likely to be?"

Again, there should have been some banter. There wasn't. "Could be pretty

risky," Han admitted. "Could be worse than that."

Lando grimaced. "Han?look, you have to understand?"

"I need you, Lando," Han cut him off. "We're on a tight schedule,  and  I

need someone I can trust. You've got the expertise I need, you know the people

I need, and there's no one else I can get."

"Han, I've got responsibilities here," Lando said. "I've got  a  business

to run?"

"Karrde had a business to run, too," Han  interrupted  again.  "He's  not

going to like it if you say no."

Lando shook his head in resignation. No,  Karrde  certainly  wouldn't  be

happy if he passed on this. Not after Lando  had  single-handedly  talked  him

into heading out to Kathol sector to try to get an intact copy of  the  Caamas

Document from the mysterious Jorj Car'das.

Whose ties to Karrde Lando still didn't understand. But that  wasn't  the

point.

The point was that Karrde hadn't wanted to  confront  Car'das,  but  he'd

gone anyway. Now Han was calling the pot hand,  and  Lando  was  about  twenty

points shy of a twenty-three. "All right,"  he  said.  "But  only  because  of

Karrde. Where and when?"

"Right now," Han said. "You have the Lady Luck there?"

"On the surface, yes," Lando told him. "I can take the  next  shuttle  up

and be there half an hour later. Who are these other people you said we need?"

"Your old admin pal Lobot, for one," Han said. "And that Verpine  he  was

working with for a while?what was his name?"

"Moegid," Lando said, feeling his eyes narrowing. "Han, this isn't what I

think it is, is it?"

"It's probably worse," Han conceded. "Lobot and Moegid still running that

little slicer trick you once told me about?"

"I don't know if they still are," Lando said with a sigh. "But  I'm  sure

they still can. You haven't by any chance located??"

He hesitated. Even with the transmission encrypted he didn't want to  say

the name aloud.

Obviously, neither did Han. "You mean the place we talked  about  at  the

Orowood?" the other said obliquely. "I think so, yeah. Get  Lobot  and  Moegid

and meet me two systems Coreward from where you didn't have any choice."

Lando smiled tightly. They arrived right before you did, the words echoed

accusingly through his memory as clearly as if it had  happened  yesterday.  I

had no choice. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, too, Han had replied as he and Leia, a squad of  stormtroopers

behind them, had walked forward into that private dining room on Cloud City to

face Darth Vader. "Two systems Coreward it is," he confirmed.

"I'll be waiting," Han said.

The transmission ended. Lando leaned back in his seat, gazing  unseeingly

at the blank display. The place we talked about at the Orowood. They'd  talked

about several different places at that clandestine meeting. But  only  one  of

them could have gotten Han this riled up.

Bastion. The latest site of the oft-moved Imperial capital, its  location

and name of its host planet hand-sealed secrets. Probably  one  of  the  best-

defended worlds in the galaxy; certainly the central focus of Imperial  power;

most definitely a place where the names Han Solo  and  Lando  Calrissian  were

rather less than admired.

And one of the last places in the galaxy where a complete set of Imperial

records would be stored. Records that might have the names and  clans  of  the

Bothans who had helped destroy the world of Caamas half a century ago. Records

that could end the increasingly violent  argument  about  whether  the  entire

Bothan species should pay the penalty for that handful of anonymous murderers.

If they could find that crucial record. And get out with it alive.

He keyed the comm. "Donnerwin, send  a  transmission  to  Lobot  at  Dive

Central," he ordered. "Tell him to get himself and the Lady Luck prepped?we're

going on a little trip." For a moment he debated  ordering  Lobot  to  contact

Moegid, decided against it. The Lady  Luck  had  better  encryption  than  the

under-to-over comm, and the less information out there for snoopers to  listen

to, the better. "And get me a seat on the next surface shuttle."

"Acknowledged," Donnerwin said, unfazed as always by this  sudden  change

in his boss's plans. "The shuttle leaves in twenty minutes. Do you want me  to

hold it?"

"No, I can make it,"  Lando  told  him,  running  a  quick  mental  list.

Everything he was likely to need was already aboard the Lady Luck, and barring

any major disasters the casino/mining operation should be able to  run  itself

for a while.

At least until Tendra got back.

A pang of guilt jabbed into him. After all he and Tendra had been through

together, she had a right to know why he was dropping everything like this.

Especially if there was any chance at all  that  he  wouldn't  be  coming

back.

He swallowed, his mouth unexpectedly dry. He would come back, all  right.

Of course he would. Hadn't he flown right into the heart of the  second  Death

Star and lived  to  tell  about  it?  Sure  he  had.  And  he'd  survived  the

destruction  of  Mount  Tantiss,  and  that  Corellian   unpleasantness,   and

everything in between.

But he was older now, and wiser, with a business he really enjoyed and  a

woman who for possibly the first time in his life he felt truly  and  honestly

connected to. He didn't want to lose any of it. Certainly not by dying.

But, hey, there was nothing to worry about. He was going  with  Han,  and

Han was about the luckiest old scoundrel he'd ever  known.  They'd  come  back

okay. Sure they would. Guaranteed.

"Boss?"

Lando blinked, snapping out of his  private  pep  talk  and  focusing  on

Donnerwin again. "What?"

"Will there be anything else?" the other asked.

"No," Lando said, feeling slightly ridiculous. "Just keep things  running

smoothly until Tendra gets back."

Donnerwin smiled. "Sure thing, boss. Have a good trip."

"Thanks."

Lando keyed off the comm, and with a grimace pushed back  his  chair  and

stood up.

No, there was nothing foolish about a little healthy caution. It was  far

worse than that.

It was age. Lando was starting to feel old; and he didn't like it. Not  a

bit.

So fine. He would go ahead and take this little jaunt into the  heart  of

the Empire. It would do him good, and might just save the New Republic on  top

of it.

Sure. It would be just like old times.

* * *

In her earphone came the sound of Calrissian's door opening and  closing;

and with a sigh, Karoly D'ulin pulled the device out of her ear. "Shassa," she

murmured into the empty air.

The word seemed to hang in front  of  her,  there  in  the  tiny  utility

closet. An old Mistryl battle curse, but spoken now not with anger  or  combat

rage but a deep sadness.

Her gamble had paid off... and now she was going to have to kill  an  old

friend.

With practiced fingers she began disassembling the audio  tap  she'd  put

into Calrissian's office when she'd arrived here forty hours ago, a  flush  of

anger intruding on  her  dour  mood.  Anger  at  Talon  Karrde  for  being  so

predictable; anger at herself for anticipating his moves so  precisely;  anger

at Shada D'ukal for putting her in this position in the first place.

What in the ashes of Emberlene had possessed Shada  to  defy  the  Eleven

that way?

she wondered. Loyalty, Shada had said up on that windswept  rooftop.  But

that was clearly ridiculous. Mazzic was a grubby little smuggler?nothing more?

with no more claim on  Shada's  loyalty  than  any  of  the  dozens  of  other

employers she'd worked for over the  years.  True,  this  particular  job  had

lasted longer than most; but no matter what Mazzic might have  thought,  Shada

had still been a Mistryl shadow guard all  that  time,  ultimately  answerable

only to the Eleven Elders of the People.

So Shada had defied her orders, and as a result a  Mistryl  deal  with  a

Hutt crimelord had gone sour, and the Eleven were demanding Shada's head.  All

Mistryl had been alerted to watch for her, and several  teams  had  been  sent

specifically to hunt her down.

And out of all that flurry of activity it had been Karoly who  had  found

her.

Even now, eight days later, the irony of it was still a bitter  taste  in

Karoly's mouth. She hadn't worked with Shada for twenty years, yet  had  still

managed to anticipate that Shada's next move would be in the direction of  the

New Republic hierarchy, though whether to join up or  sell  out  Karoly  still

didn't know. She'd arrived on Coruscant just in time to see Shada leaving  the

Imperial City, and had tracked her to an apartment  owned  by  High  Councilor

Leia Organa Solo and her husband near the Manarai Mountains.

She might have taken Shada there?certainly surprise would  have  been  on

her side.

But the Solos were rumored to have a cadre of Noghri warriors around them

at all  times,  and  even  given  that  Noghri  combat  skills  were  probably

overrated, it would still be risky for a single Mistryl to go up against  them

alone.

So she had called for backup. But before they could arrive Shada had left

the building in the company of Talon Karrde. There again might have  been  her

chance; but before she could do more than infiltrate into  the  inner  landing

bay Organa Solo and her protocol droid had arrived with a pair  of  Noghri  in

tow. She and the droid had gone inside, the Noghri taking up positions at  the

outer hatchway; and when Organa Solo had left  a  few  minutes  later  it  was

without the droid. She'd collected her guards and left the landing bay.

And then, to Karoly's chagrin, the Wild Karrde had immediately sealed  up

and taken off, leaving her too far from her own  ship  to  have  any  hope  of

giving chase.

The Eleven had been furious. So had  the  Mistryl  hunter  team  who  had

dropped everything to rush to Coruscant at her call. Nothing  had  been  said;

but then, nothing had to be.  Their  expressions  had  been  enough,  and  the

sideways glances and muttered comments to each other as they'd headed back  to

their ships. They'd heard the story about Karoly letting Shada escape back  at

the Resinem Entertainment Complex, and it wasn't hard to guess  that  many  of

them were thinking she'd done the same thing here.

Which had made it that much more important that she prove them wrong. And

so she'd played a long-shot hunch, keying back on a vague  connection  between

Karrde and Calrissian that Mazzic had gotten whiff of a few years back.

A  hunch  that  had  now  paid  off.  Solo  had  been  careful  in   that

transmission, but that single oblique reference to Karrde had been  all  she'd

needed. Shada was off with Karrde, and Calrissian was being asked to join in.

And wherever he went, Karoly would be there,  too.  Calrissian  had  once

been a smuggler, and every smuggler?former or otherwise?had  a  hidey-hole  or

two hidden aboard his personal ship. If Karoly could reach the Lady Luck  even

a couple of minutes ahead of Calrissian, odds were she could be  snugged  away

out of sight by the time he started up the entry ramp.

And if it turned out he was planning to use her hidey-hole for  something

else...

well, she would mark that target when she came to it.

In the meantime, there was her carrypack to throw together and a place on

the next surface shuttle to reserve. Preferably with a seat closer to the exit

than Calrissian's.

Waiting until the corridor outside was silent, she  slipped  out  of  the

utility closet and headed at a fast walk back toward her room.

* * *

"Admiral?" Captain Dorja's voice  came  from  the  comm  speaker  in  the

secondary command room's inner  circle  of  repeater  displays.  "The  Ruurian

ambassador's shuttle has just cleared the ship and  is  heading  back  to  the

surface."

Handing his drink to Tierce, Flim flashed Disra a smug smile and  stepped

over to the repeater displays. "Thank you, Captain," he said  in  that  calmly

measured Thrawn voice he did so well.  "Prepare  a  course  for  Bastion,  and

inform me when the ship is ready."

"Yes, sir."

The comm unit clicked off. "About time," Disra growled, throwing a  glare

at Tierce. "If you ask me, we've pushed our luck too hard here already."

"We're familiar with your opinions on the topic, thank you," Tierce said,

not quite insubordinately, as he handed Flim's drink back to him. "I'd  remind

you that three brand-new treaties is a very good return for a week's work."

"Only if Coruscant doesn't come down on us like a wounded rancor,"  Disra

countered sourly. "You push them hard enough and long enough and they will."

"This hardly qualifies as  pushing,  Your  Excellency,"  Flim  said.  His

voice, too, was a little too close to insubordination for Disra's  taste.  "We

haven't opened or provoked any hostilities, and we've gone  only  where  we've

been invited. On what possible grounds could Coruscant attack us?"

"How about the grounds that a state of  war  still  exists  between  us?"

Disra snapped. "Either of you ever think of that?"

"Political suicide," Flim sniffed. "We've been invited by these  systems,

remember? If Coruscant tries to stick its collective nose in?"

He broke off as a shrill whistle  sounded  from  the  repeater  displays.

"What's that?" he demanded.

"Emergency battle alert," Tierce said tightly, nearly splashing the  rest

of Flim's drink onto his pristine white uniform as he shouldered past the  con

man and dropped into the command chair. "Admiral, get over  here,"  he  added,

his hands darting over the controls.

The tactical display came up, turning the room into a  giant  holographic

combat display; and as it did so, the comm unit twittered. "Admiral, I believe

we're about to come under attack," Dorja's voice said calmly. "Eight Marauder-

class Corvettes have just jumped into the system, heading our direction."

Disra consciously unclenched his teeth as he looked around the  room  for

the flashing symbols that would mark the incoming Marauders. Of  course  Dorja

was calm?he thought he had the great Grand Admiral  Thrawn  aboard  his  ship,

with matters undoubtedly under control.

But he didn't, and they weren't. And unless  Disra  did  something  fast,

this whole tenuous soap bubble was going to blow up right in their faces.

Flim was at Tierce's side now, and the major was reaching  for  the  comm

switch. "Tell Dorja he's to take over," Disra hissed toward  them.  "Tell  him

this is too small or too trivial for you to bother with?"

"Shh!" Tierce hissed, cutting him off with a glare and a chopping  motion

of his hand. "Admiral?"

"Ready," Flim said, and Tierce tapped the key. "Thank you, Captain,"  the

con man said smoothly; and once again, it was suddenly  Grand  Admiral  Thrawn

standing in the room. "Have you identified them?"

"No, sir, not  yet,"  Dorja  said.  "They  have  random-noise  generators

blanketing their engine IDs. Highly illegal, of course."

"Of course," Thrawn agreed. "Launch  a  half  squadron  of  Preybirds  to

intercept."

"Yes, sir."

Tierce flipped off the comm unit. "Are you crazy?" Disra snarled. "A half

squadron of starfighters against??"

"Calm  down,  Your  Excellency,"  Flim  said,  throwing  Disra  a  coolly

calculating look. "This was one of Thrawn's standard techniques to  sniff  out

an unknown opponent's identity."

"More to the immediate point, it buys us time," Tierce added, his fingers

skating madly across  the  computer  console.  "Marauder  Corvettes,  Marauder

Corvettes... here we go. Mostly used by the Corporate Sector these days,  with

a few in assorted Outer Rim system defense fleets."

"Interesting," Flim commented, leaning forward to read over his shoulder.

"What would the Corporate Sector want with us?"

"I don't know," Tierce said. "Disra? Any ideas on that one?"

"No," Disra said, pulling out his datapad. No, he didn't know why  anyone

in the Corporate Sector might want to attack them this way... but on the other

hand, the mention of Marauders had triggered a vague memory at the back of his

mind.

"Do you have a list of the other systems who use them?" Flim asked.

"Running it now," Tierce said. "Nothing really jumping out at me... there

go the Preybirds."

Disra glanced up to see the marks indicating  the  starfighters  speeding

outward toward the distant intruders, then lowered his  eyes  to  his  datapad

again. It had had something  to  do  with  Captain  Zothip  and  the  Cavrilhu

Pirates, he remembered.

There, that was the section...

"I need some suggestions here," Flim said urgently.

"Thrawn's standard pattern would be to let the Preybirds begin to engage,

then pull them back," Tierce said. "How the enemy responded to the  probe  was

usually enough to let him figure out who they were."

"That's fine for Thrawn," Flim bit  out  apprehensively.  "Unfortunately,

we're a little short of his brand of genius at the moment."

"Unless Major Tierce took classes in the technique with the Royal Guard,"

Disra added, snapping the datapad closed with a grand sense of triumph.

"Helpful as always, Your Excellency," Tierce said absently, still sifting

through the computer records.

"Glad you appreciate me," Disra said. "They're Diamala."

He had the satisfaction of watching both of them turn to look at  him,  a

look of stunned surprise  on  Flim's  face,  the  same  surprise  tinged  with

suspicion on Tierce's. "What?" Flim asked.

"They're Diamala," Disra repeated, enjoying the moment  to  the  fullest.

"About three months ago the Diamalan Commerce Ministry bought twelve  Marauder

Corvettes to use in transport escort. And possibly  for  some  rather  shadier

operations."

"You sure?" Flim asked, peering at the display. "It doesn't show here."

"I'm sure it doesn't," Disra said. "Captain Zothip was trying to buy them

and was outbidden. As I said, they may be reserving them for shady operations.

"

"And how do you get from there to the assumption these are those  ships?"

Flim demanded.

"No, he's right," Tierce put in before Disra could answer. "That Diamalan

Senator we dragged aboard the Relentless with Calrissian?remember? I never did

think he was wholly convinced you were Thrawn."

"And if our Intelligence reports are right, he was  the  one  who  helped

drive the governmental  split  on  Coruscant  over  the  whole  issue,"  Disra

reminded them.

"Yes, he was," Tierce said, turning back to the  computer  keyboard.  "It

appears he's decided to give us another test."

"The question being what we do about it," Flim said, looking  across  the

room. "And the Preybirds are almost there."

"I know," Tierce said, gazing at the computer display. "Call them back."

"Already?" Disra frowned at the tactical. "I thought you needed them to?"

"I don't need anything," Tierce cut him off. "Call them  back,  and  have

Dorja set up for a Tron Boral maneuver."

"A what?" Disra asked, frowning harder.

"A somewhat esoteric battle  technique,"  Flim  explained,  leaning  over

Tierce's shoulder and tapping the comm unit back on.  "That  will  do  nicely,

Captain," he said smoothly. "Recall the Preybirds, and prepare the  Relentless

for a Tron Boral maneuver."

"Acknowledged, Admiral," Dorja said briskly. "Will you be joining  me  on

the bridge?"

Tierce looked up at Flim and tapped a spot on the computer display.  "You

won't need my assistance," Thrawn assured the captain, nodding  acknowledgment

to Tierce and leaning closer to read the  indicated  section.  "A  Tron  Boral

maneuver, followed by a full-closure Marg Sabl sweep by the Preybirds,  and  I

think our unknown assailants will reconsider  their  plans.  Assuming  they're

still alive to do so, of course."

"Yes, sir," the captain said,  and  Disra  could  almost  see  the  other

rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Tron Boral maneuver ready."

"Execute, Captain."

Flim keyed off the comm unit again. "And that should be that,"  he  said,

leaning casually on the back of the command chair and gazing with interest  at

the tactical display.

"You see, we already have a battle plan to use against  Diamala,"  Tierce

explained, looking over at Disra. "Thrawn tangled with them a few times during

his sweep through the  Rebellion  ten  years  ago."  He  gestured  toward  the

computer.

"All I had to do was pull up the record of one of those battles?"

"There they go," Flim interrupted him. "Running like hopskips."

Disra followed his pointing finger. Flim was right;  the  Marauders  were

indeed turning tail and heading for hyperspace. "But we haven't done  anything

yet," he protested, feeling slightly bewildered.

"Sure we have," Tierce said, his voice grimly satisfied.  "Don't  forget,

they've got records of Thrawn's victories, too. The Relentless  moved  into  a

Tron Boral maneuver... and that was all they needed to know."

"Yes," Flim murmured as, across the room, the Marauders' marks winked out

as they jumped to hyperspace. "With ships  that  weren't  even  registered  to

them, we responded with exactly the right move."

He tapped the comm again. "Secure from battle configuration, Captain," he

instructed Dorja. "And inform the  Ruurian  governments  that  the  threatened

attack on their world has been frightened away."

"At once, Admiral," Dorja's voice came. "I'm  sure  they'll  be  pleased.

Shall we continue course preparation for Bastion?"

"Yes," the con man said. "You may leave the system when ready. I shall be

meditating if you require me."

"Yes, sir. Have a good rest, Admiral."

Flim keyed off. "And that," he added to  Disra  and  Tierce,  "is  indeed

that. If the Diamala weren't convinced before, five gets the sabacc  pot  they

are now."

"Good for them," Disra said sourly. "You realize,  of  course,  that  all

this little exercise accomplished was to bring us one step closer  to  scaring

Coruscant into coming down on us."

"Patience, Your Excellency," Tierce said, keying  off  the  tactical  and

getting up from the command chair. "I'm  sure  it  also  helped  convince  the

Ruurians they've chosen the winning side."

"Yes," Disra said. "And perhaps brought us one step closer to the Hand of

Thrawn."

Flim frowned. "The Hand of Thrawn?" he asked cautiously. "What's  a  Hand

of Thrawn?"

Tierce pursed his lips, clearly annoyed. "Your Excellency..."

"What's a Hand of Thrawn?" Flim repeated.

"No, no, go ahead," Disra said to  Tierce,  waving  a  languid  hand  and

preparing to enjoy this moment, too, to its fullest. Tierce and Flim got along

together far too well for his liking. It was about time they both got a  taste

of some of the misgivings and suspicions about  this  arrangement  that  Disra

himself had been feeling since it started. "It's your story. You tell him."

"I'm listening," Flim said, his voice suddenly dark. "What  is  this  you

haven't bothered to tell me?"

Tierce cleared his throat. "Calm down,  Admiral,"  he  said.  "It's  like

this..."

It was, Disra reflected later, a good thing that  the  secondary  command

room was totally soundproofed. As it was, with all the shouting, he completely

missed the characteristic deck vibration  that  marked  the  Star  Destroyer's

return to hyperspace.

CHAPTER

10

The first hundred meters were reasonably easy, even  with  Artoo's  usual

problems with uneven terrain. Mara had explored some of this  section  of  the

cave, and had studied most of the rest with glow rod and macrobinoculars,  and

she was able to pick out the best route.

But at that point the floor dropped off abruptly for perhaps ten  meters;

and when they reached the chamber at the bottom of the passageway,  they  were

in new territory.

"How's it look?" Luke called to Mara as he used the Force to  ease  Artoo

over one last boulder at the foot of their descent path.

"About like you'd expect," Mara called back. She had her glow rod out  in

front of her, her body silhouetted as the light  was  scattered  into  a  hazy

nimbus by the dust in the air. "You know, just once it would be nice to go  on

one of these little jaunts where  we  didn't  wind  up  having  to  drag  that

astromech droid through rocks and bushes and sand and all."

Artoo beeped indignantly. "Artoo's usually done a good job of earning his

keep," Luke reminded her, brushing the grit off his hands as he stepped to her

side. "Anyway, when did we have to pull him through sand?"

"I'm sure we'll hit some sooner or later." Mara gestured ahead. "What  do

you think?"

Luke peered out through the haze. The chamber was  short,  no  more  than

fifteen meters from where they stood to the far end, but it was indeed a mess.

A maze of rocks and boulders littered the area,  with  the  jagged  blades  of

stalactites and stalagmites jutting randomly from ceiling and  floor  blocking

their way. At the far end, the chamber closed down again  to  a  narrow  crack

that looked barely wide enough to squeeze through. "Doesn't look too bad,"  he

told her. "We can  handle  the  stalactites  with  our  lightsabers.  The  big

question's whether that crack's too narrow to get Artoo through."

There was a rustling in the air and Keeper Of Promises  fluttered  to  an

upside-down perch on one of the stalactites. Are you troubled,  Master  Walker

Of Sky? the thought formed in Luke's mind. Is the path ahead too difficult for

you?

No path is too difficult for Jedi  Sky  Walker,  Child  Of  Winds  jumped

indignantly to Luke's defense, flapping his way to a rock beside Mara. I  have

seen him do great deeds in the outside air.

Perhaps they were great in the easily dazzled eyes of a Qom Qae, Splitter

Of Stones put in dryly from another stalactite a few meters into the  chamber.

Those who have earned their names are more difficult to impress.

"They're talking again, aren't they?" Mara muttered.

"The Qom Jha are wondering if this chamber is going to be a  problem  for

us," Luke told her. "Child Of Winds is defending us."

"Decent of him," Mara said, unhooking her lightsaber and  hefting  it  in

her hand.

"Shall we give them a little demonstration?"

Luke frowned at her. "Are you sure you can?I mean?"

"You mean can I do it?" Mara cut him off. "Yes, I can do it. Just because

I haven't graduated from your precious Jedi academy doesn't mean I  can't  use

the Force as well as anyone else. You want high or low?"

"I'll take high," Luke said, a little taken aback  by  the  heat  of  her

retort. He got his own lightsaber in hand and gave a  quick  look  around  the

chamber, fixing the position of each  stalactite  firmly  in  his  mind.  "You

ready?"

In answer Mara ignited her lightsaber, the light from its blade adding  a

blue tinge to the neutral white of her glow rod. "Anytime you are."

"Right," Luke said, trying to hide his misgivings as he added  the  green

of his lightsaber to the mix. "Go."

In unison they cocked their arms and  threw,  sending  their  lightsabers

windmilling across the chamber, their blades snicking neatly  and  efficiently

through the protruding rock spikes.

Or at least Luke's did. Mara's...

She tried. She really did. Luke could sense it  in  her  stance,  in  her

outstretched hand, in the mental strain he could feel like a static  discharge

all around her.

But as Master Yoda had once said, Do, or do not. There is no try. And  in

this case, as it had been then, there was indeed no try.  Halfway  across  the

chamber, Mara's lightsaber seemed to falter, its rhythm breaking and the blade

tip dipping to carve shallow furrows in the rock floor. It would  recover  and

fly true for another second or two, only to slow or dip  again  as  she  again

nearly lost her Force grip on it.

Twice Luke was tempted to reach out and help her; on such an easy task he

could handle both lightsabers without any problem. But both times he  resisted

the temptation. Mara Jade angry and  frustrated  was  bad  enough;  Mara  Jade

angry, frustrated, and feeling  like  she  was  being  patronized  was  not  a

combination he felt ready to face.

Besides, the job was getting done, if a bit erratically. And  as  far  as

the secondary purpose of the demonstration was concerned,  the  subtleties  of

the performance were completely lost on the audience. The cacophony of squawks

and chirps from the Qom Jha filled Luke's ears and  mind  as  the  stalactites

dropped from the ceiling around them to shatter on the rocks below.

But neither the crash of rock nor the startled exclamations from the  Qom

Jha were able to drown out Child Of Winds's delighted squeals. I was right?you

see, I was right, he crowed. He is a great  Jedi  warrior,  as  is  Mara  Jade

beside him.

Luke felt a twinge as he called his lightsaber back to him, timing it  to

arrive at the same time as Mara's slightly more sluggish weapon. "War  doesn't

make one great, Child Of Winds," he admonished the young Qom Qae gently as  he

closed down his lightsaber and returned it to his belt. "Battle is  always  to

be the last resort of a Jedi."

I understand, Child Of Winds said, the tone  of  his  thought  making  it

clear that he did not in fact understand at all.  But  when  you  destroy  the

Threateners?

"We're not destroying anything," Luke  insisted.  "At  least,  not  until

we've tried talking to them first."

"I'd give it up if I were you," Mara called  over  her  shoulder  as  she

picked her way across the chamber toward the narrow opening. "He'll understand

after he's seen a couple of his friends die in battle. Not before."

Luke felt his throat tighten. Obi-Wan, Biggs, Dack?the list went  on  and

on. "In that case, I hope he never understands," he murmured.

"Oh, he will," Mara assured him darkly, her voice  echoing  strangely  as

she leaned her head into the gap and waved her glow  rod  around.  "Sooner  or

later, everyone does."

She leaned back out and unhooked her lightsaber. "You can come on  ahead?

there's only a short neck of extra rock here. Just take me a minute to cut  it

away."

* * *

Six hours later, Luke finally called a halt.

"About time," Mara said, wincing as she eased herself down into the  most

comfortable position possible on the cold rock. "I was starting to  think  you

were hoping to make it all the way to the High Tower by tonight."

"I wish we could," Luke said, brushing some stones out  of  a  saddle  of

rock across from her and sitting down. He didn't look nearly as tired or  sore

as she felt, she noticed with some resentment. She  could  only  hope  he  was

merely hiding it better than she was. "I have a feeling that we're running  on

a tight deadline with this."

"You're always running tight deadlines," Mara  said,  closing  her  eyes.

"Has it ever occurred to you that every once in a while you could let  someone

else do all the work?"

She felt the texture of his emotions change,  and  wondered  whether  his

expression would be hurt, angry, or indignant when she opened her eyes.

To her mild surprise, it was none of them. It was, rather, merely a  look

of calm interest. "You think I try to do too much?"

"Yes," she said, eyeing him closely. "Why? You disagree?"

He shrugged. "A year or two ago I would have," he said. "Now...  I  don't

know."

"Ah," Mara said. First  his  statement  back  at  the  Cavrilhu  Pirates'

asteroid base that he was trying to cut back on his use of the Force, and  now

at least a tentative admission that he might be trying to do  too  much.  This

was progress indeed. "Of course, if you don't do everything, who will?"

From his perch on a rock, Child Of Winds said something, and Luke smiled.

"No, Child Of Winds," he said. "Not even a Jedi Master can do  everything.  In

fact"?he threw an odd look at Mara?"sometimes it seems that it's not  the  job

of a Jedi Master to do anything."

Builder With Vines made a comment of his own. "Yes," Luke said.

"What did he say?" Mara asked.

"He quoted me what appears to be a Qom Jha proverb,"  Luke  said.  "About

how many vines woven together are stronger than the same number of vines  used

separately.

I think there must be a variation of that one on practically every planet

in the New Republic."

Mara threw a sour look at the Qom Jha. "You know, I used to  be  able  to

hear Palpatine's thoughts from anywhere in the Empire.  I  mean  anywhere?Core

Worlds, Mid-Rim, even a jaunt I took once to the edge of the Outer Rim."

"And yet you can't hear the Qom Jha or Qom Qae  from  across  the  room,"

Luke said.

"Must be annoying."

" 'Annoying' isn't exactly the word I was hunting for," Mara said acidly.

"How come you can hear them and I can't? If it's not  some  professional  Jedi

secret."

His emotions remained unruffled. "Actually, that's exactly what  it  is,"

he said.

"Not a secret, really, but the fact that you're not a Jedi."

"What, because I haven't been through your academy?" Mara scoffed.

"Not at all," Luke said. "There are ways to become a Jedi  without  going

through an academy." He hesitated, just noticeably. "But as long as  we're  on

the subject, why didn't you come back?"

She studied his face, wondering if this was a subject she  really  wanted

to get into right now. "I had better things to do," she said instead.

"I see," Luke said; and this time she did sense a twitch in his emotions.

"Such as flying all over the New Republic with Lando, for instance?"

"Well, well," Mara said, arching her eyebrows slightly. "Do  I  detect  a

note of jealousy?"

Once again, he surprised her. The flicker of emotion, rather than flaming

to life like an ember in a  breeze,  faded  instead  into  a  sort  of  gentle

sadness. "Not jealousy," he said quietly. "Disappointment.  I'd  always  hoped

you would come back and complete your training."

"You didn't hope hard enough," Mara said, forcing down a flicker  of  old

bitterness of her own. "I thought that after all we'd been through together on

Myrkr and Wayland I deserved at least a little special consideration from you.

But every time I showed up, you said hello and then basically ignored me.

Kyp Durron or one of those other  kids?they're  the  ones  who  got  all  your

attention."

Luke winced. "You're right," he conceded. "I thought... I suppose  I  was

thinking that you didn't need as much attention as they did. Kyp was  younger,

more inexperienced..." He trailed off.

"And see what it got you," Mara couldn't resist pointing out. "He  nearly

wrecked the whole academy, not  to  mention  you  and  the  New  Republic  and

everything else that got in his way."

"It wasn't all his fault," Luke said. "The Sith Lord Exar Kun was driving

him toward the dark side."

"Do tell," Mara said, aware that she  was  drifting  straight  back  into

territory she had already decided to avoid for the moment. "And whose idea was

it to set up the academy at Yavin in the first place? And who decided to leave

it there after that mess with Exar Kun was finally sorted out?"

"I did," Luke said, his eyes steady on her face. "What  are  you  getting

at?"

Mara grimaced. This was not the time or the place to get into this.  "All

I'm saying is that you're not infallible," she said, once again deflecting the

matter. "That by itself ought to be enough reason for you not to try to do  it

all yourself."

"Hey, I'm not arguing,"  Luke  protested  with  a  faint  smile.  "I'm  a

reformed person?really. I let you handle your  own  lightsaber  back  at  that

chamber, didn't I?"

"Thanks for reminding me," Mara said, feeling  her  cheeks  warming  with

embarrassment. "I really thought I had better control than that."

"It's the long, sustained control that's often the  hardest  to  master,"

Luke said.

"But I've found some special techniques for  that.  Here,  lift  up  your

lightsaber and I'll show you."

Shifting her hip to free the lightsaber?and to incidentally move her  leg

off a rock that was starting to become  uncomfortably  sharp?Mara  lifted  the

weapon out in front of her. "You want it on?" she asked, getting a Force  grip

on it and dropping her hand away.

"No, that's  not  necessary,"  Luke  said.  "All  right,  now,  hold  the

lightsaber steady in front of you. I want you to keep an eye on it but to also

visualize it in your mind, just the way it's hovering there. Can you do that?"

Mara half closed her eyes, her mind flashing back to their  trek  through

the Wayland forest ten years ago. There, too, Luke had slipped easily into the

role of teacher, with her taking the role of student.

But a lot had changed since then. And this time, perhaps,  she  would  be

the one who would be presenting the most important lesson. "Okay, I've got it,

" she told him. "What next?"

* * *

Mara was a quick study, as Luke had noted in the past, and easily  picked

up the rudiments of the focusing technique. He kept her practicing with it for

another half hour, and then it was time to move on.

"I hope your droid's not going to run out of power before we get  there,"

Mara commented as Luke used the Force to lift Artoo over yet  another  section

of claw-slash ground. "I'd hate to think we'd dragged him all this way just so

he could become a floor decoration."

"He'll be all right," Luke said. "He's not using much  power  right  now,

and your droid fitted him with some extra power packs on the way in."

"Wait a second," Mara said, frowning. "My droid,  Slips?  I  thought  you

said you came by X-wing."

"We came down to the planet by X-wing, yes," Luke said. "But we came into

the system in the Jade's Fire. I guess I forgot to mention that."

"I guess you did," Mara said shortly, a flush of anger making Luke  wince

as it flowed through her emotions. "Who in blazes gave you permission??  Never

mind. It was Karrde, wasn't it?"

"He pointed out that your Defender doesn't have a hyperdrive," Luke said,

hearing the defensiveness in his voice. "Two people in an X-wing cockpit  gets

pretty cozy."

"No, you're right," Mara said reluctantly, and he could sense her forcing

back her reflexive protectiveness toward the one thing  in  the  universe  she

truly owned. "You'd just better have it well hidden  out  there.  And  I  mean

really well hidden."

"It is," Luke assured her. "I know how much that ship means to you."

"You'd better not have scratched the paint, either," she warned. "I don't

suppose you thought to bring the beckon call?"

"Actually, I did," Luke said, frowning slightly as he dug into one of the

pockets of his jumpsuit. For some unknown reason an old memory  flashed  back:

the time he'd gone back to Dagobah and stumbled across an old beckon call from

some pre-Clone Wars  ship.  He  hadn't  known  what  it  was,  but  Artoo  had

remembered seeing Lando once with a similar device, and so  they'd  headed  to

Lando's mining operation on Nkllon to ask him about it. Arriving just in time,

as it happened, to help Han and Leia fight off a raid by Grand Admiral Thrawn.

But why should that particular memory come rising back now? Because  Mara

was here, and he'd seen his first vision of her at that same time? Or  was  it

something about that ancient beckon call?or the Fire's beckon call, or  beckon

calls in general?that was triggering something deep in his mind?

Mara was looking oddly at him. "Trouble?" she asked.

"Stray thoughts," Luke said, pulling out the beckon call and  handing  it

to her.

"You're not going to be able to call the Fire from  here,  though.  We're

way out of range, and I seem to remember the beckon call being strictly  line-

of-sight."

"No, there's also a broadcast setting," Mara  said.  "But  the  range  is

pretty limited. Still, there may be transmitters in the High Tower I  can  run

the call signal through."

She sent him one last glower on the subject. "Though you can bet I  won't

bring it out of hiding until and  unless  we  can  neutralize  their  nest  of

fighters.

Speaking of which, you never told me what happened with the pair you  ran

into."

"There's not much to tell,"  Luke  said,  unhooking  his  lightsaber  and

igniting it.

A quick swipe, and  yet  another  stalactite  blocking  their  path  went

crashing to the ground in front of him. "They told me to stay with them,  then

ran through a series of quick maneuvers. I thought at the time they  might  be

looking for an excuse to open fire."

"More likely wanted to see what kind of craft and pilot they were dealing

with," Mara suggested.

"That was the conclusion I ended up with, too," Luke  agreed,  stretching

out with the Force to lift Artoo over the shattered stalactite. "Anyway,  they

waited until we were a few kilometers from the  High  Tower  and  then  opened

fire. I ducked into that series of canyons your record showed and  managed  to

lose them."

Mara was silent a moment. "You said they told you to stay with them. They

spoke Basic?"

"Eventually," Luke said. "But they started off with the same message  you

and Karrde picked up when that other ship  buzzed  by  Booster  Terrik's  Star

Destroyer."

"Karrde gave you that, I  take  it,"  Mara  said,  her  emotions  turning

suddenly darker. "Did he give you the rest of it?"

"He gave me your landing data," Luke said. "Was there more?"

"Yes, and none of it good," Mara said. "Point one is that  Thrawn's  name

is buried in that message. Point two is that your sister recovered  a  damaged

datacard near Mount Tantiss that was labeled 'The Hand of Thrawn.' "

The Hand of Thrawn. "I don't like the sound of that," Luke said.

"No one else who's heard it  does,  either,"  Mara  agreed  grimly.  "The

question is, what does it mean?"

"You were called the Emperor's Hand," Luke reminded  her.  "Could  Thrawn

have had that kind of agent?"

"That's the first thing everyone else has asked,  too,"  Mara  said,  and

Luke sensed a brief flicker of annoyance from her. "That, or whether it  could

be a superweapon like another Death Star. But neither of those were really his

style."

Luke snorted. "No, his style was to rancor-roll some  brilliant  strategy

over everyone."

"Succinctly put," Mara  said.  "Still,  the  datacard  came  out  of  the

Emperor's private storehouse, so it must mean  something.  Palpatine  wouldn't

have created disinformation just for his own private amusement."

"Well, whatever it means, it would seem our friends in the High Tower are

somehow connected to Thrawn," Luke said. "I wonder if they could be a group of

his people."

"Oh, there's a cheery thought," Mara growled. "Let's just hope the  whole

species doesn't have the same tactical genius he did."

"Yes," Luke murmured.

But even as he ignited his lightsaber to clear  more  of  the  rock  from

their path another sobering thought occurred to him. If  the  Hand  of  Thrawn

hadn't been an assassin or special agent...

"You're thinking again," Mara cut into his musings. "Come on, let's  have

it."

"I was just thinking that maybe the Hand of  Thrawn  might  have  been  a

student," Luke said, turning to look at  her.  "Someone  he  might  have  been

grooming to take his place if anything happened to him."

"So where is he?" Mara asked. "I mean, it's been ten years. Why hasn't he

shown up before now?"

"Maybe the Hand didn't think he was ready yet," Luke suggested. "Maybe he

thought he needed more time or training before he could take Thrawn's place."

"Or else," Mara said, and in the harshly shadowed light of the glow  rods

her face was suddenly tight, "he's been waiting for just the right  moment  to

make his move."

Luke took a deep breath, the cool cavern air tasting  suddenly  a  little

colder. "Like the moment when the New Republic is poised to tear itself  apart

over the Caamas issue."

"It's exactly how Thrawn would take advantage  of  the  situation,"  Mara

said. "In fact, with Imperial resources whittled down to practically  nothing,

it's about the only thing he could do."

For a long moment they just looked at each other,  neither  speaking.  "I

think," Mara said at last, "we'd better get  into  that  tower  and  see  just

what's going on up there."

"I think you're right," Luke said, turning his glow rod in the  direction

of their travel and boosting its power another notch. About five meters ahead,

the passageway they were in seemed to open up  into  a  large  chamber,  large

enough at any rate to swallow up the glow rod's beam. He took a step forward?

And paused as a subtle  sensation  tickled  at  the  back  of  his  mind.

Somewhere up ahead...

"I've got it, too," Mara muttered from behind him. "Doesn't feel like  my

usual danger warnings, though."

"Maybe it's not all that dangerous," Luke said. "At least, not to us."

Artoo warbled, a sound that managed to be suspicious and forlorn  at  the

same time. "He wasn't talking about you," Mara assured the droid. "You see it,

Luke?"

"Yes," Luke said, smiling tightly. Up ahead, their three Qom Jha  guides,

who up until now had ranged freely  back  and  forth  ahead  of  their  slower

ground-walking charges, had all taken up rock perches just this  side  of  the

cavern mouth. "I'd say there's something in there they're not anxious  to  run

into."

"Which they seem to have forgotten to tell us about," Mara  pointed  out.

"Another test?"

"Could be," Luke said. "No?Child Of Winds, stay back here."

I see no danger,  the  young  Qom  Qae  protested.  But  he  nevertheless

obediently swooped to a landing on a stalagmite near the opening. What is  the

danger?

"We're about to  find  out,"  Luke  told  him,  getting  a  grip  on  his

lightsaber and easing toward the cavern. "Mara?"

"Right behind you," she said. "Want me to handle the lights?"

"Please," Luke said, handing his glow  rod  over  his  shoulder  to  her.

Stretching out with all his senses, he stepped into the opening.

For a long minute he stood there motionlessly, studying  the  terrain  as

Mara swept the beams from  the  glow  rods  slowly  around.  The  chamber  was

impressively large and high-ceilinged, with  a  handful  of  shallow  channels

conducting rippling streams of water across the otherwise more  or  less  flat

floor. There were none of the stalagmites and stalactites they'd had to put up

with through the rest of the cave  system,  but  the  lower  wall  areas  were

pockmarked with dozens of half-meter-diameter  holes  that  seemed  to  extend

deeply back into the rock. The whole chamber?walls, ceiling, floor,  even  the

creek beds?was covered with what looked to be  a  thick  coating  of  a  white

mosslike substance. At the far side, the chamber again shrank down to a tunnel

like the one they were standing in.

"There must be openings to the surface," Mara said quietly, her breath  a

momentary warmth on the back of his neck. "No light, but you can feel the  air

moving. And there's water, too."

"Yes," Luke murmured. Air, water, and a plant base?even a moss  one?meant

there could be a complete ecology down here.

An ecology that might well include predators...

"You want to offer it a ration bar?" Mara suggested.

"Let's try a rock first," Luke said, stooping down to  pick  up  a  fist-

sized stone.

He threw it out toward the center of the chamber; and as it arced  toward

the floor, he caught it in a Force grip and twisted it sharply to the side?

And abruptly something snapped out from one of the walls and back again.

And in that movement, the stone vanished.

"Whoa!" Luke said, looking over at that part of the wall  as  Mara  swung

the glow rods that direction. "Did you see where that came from?"

"Somewhere over there, I think," Mara said. "It went by  too  fast?there.

See it?"

Luke nodded. From one of the deep holes in the wall, a brief  cascade  of

gravel dribbled silently out down the white moss. There was some movement from

the moss as the gravel passed, then it settled down again and the chamber  was

again silent and still.

"I guess it doesn't like rocks," Mara commented.

"We should have gone with the ration bar," Luke agreed, reaching  out  to

the Force and replaying his short-term memory. It didn't help;  the  grab  had

been just too fast. "Could you see what it was?"

"Some kind of tongue or tentacle, I'd guess," Mara said. "The  main  part

of the creature is probably inside that hole."

"And he's probably not alone," Luke said, eyeing the other  holes  around

the chamber. "Any suggestions?"

"Well, for starters, we're going to need a closer look at one  of  them,"

Mara said. "You picking up any sentience in there?"

Luke stretched out into the chamber with the Force. "No,"  he  told  her.

"Nothing."

"So they're simple predator animals, then," she said, squeezing into  the

opening beside him and handing him the glow rods. "That helps. Get out of  the

way, will you?"

"What are you going to do?" Luke asked, frowning, as she pulled  out  her

lightsaber and ignited it.

"Like I said: get a closer look," she said. Holding the lightsaber out in

front of her, she caught it with a Force grip and started it spinning  slowly.

Still spinning, it floated off to their left, keeping close in to the wall. It

approached one of the holes...

And with a flash of light and the multiple crunch of shattered  rock,  it

vanished into the hole.

Mara Jade! Child Of Wings gasped. Your weapon-claw?

"It's all right," Luke calmed him. He kept his  eyes  on  the  hole,  not

daring to look at Mara. If she'd miscalculated...

And then, with a second loud crumbling of rock, a long sluglike  creature

sagged out of the hole, covered with pink blood still oozing from a half-dozen

deep cuts across its body. Moving in an almost grotesque slow-motion, it  slid

down the mossy wall and came to a stop against a stone on the ground. A coiled

tongue rolled loosely out of the slack mouth, followed by Mara's lightsaber.

There was a gasp from one of the Qom Jha. So that is what they are  like,

Keeper Of Promises said.

"You hadn't seen one before?" Luke asked.

No, the Qom Jha replied. We did not encounter them until  thirty  seasons

ago.

Luke cocked an eyebrow. "Really. Weren't they here before  that,  or  had

you just not run into them?"

I cannot properly answer that question, Keeper  Of  Promises  said.  Only

rarely have the Qom Jha ever come into this part of the cavern.

"Trouble?" Mara asked as she reached out with the Force to  retrieve  her

lightsaber.

"There seems to be some question as to whether this room was like this up

until thirty years ago," Luke told her.

"Interesting," Mara said, looking at her  now  bloodied  lightsaber  with

distaste.

Easing it around the corner into the chamber, she wiped it off on an edge

of the white moss. "Could be someone moved into the High Tower about then  and

wanted to discourage casual tourism."

"That's one possibility," Luke agreed.

"Well, I did mine," Mara said, inspecting her lightsaber again. "You  can

do the next?what, about thirty of them?"

"About that," Luke confirmed, doing a quick estimate  of  the  number  of

holes in the cavern's walls. "You think they might be smart enough to  realize

we're too big to eat?"

"I'd hate to count on it," Mara said. "There's more than enough speed and

muscle behind those tongues to break bone."

"Agreed," Luke said. "I don't suppose there would be any path across that

would be out of their range."

"Wouldn't want to count on that, either," Mara said.  "Anyway,  it  seems

straightforward enough. We hug one wall and slice up each  of  them  from  the

side as we get to it."

Luke grimaced. Straightforward enough, certainly, but rather bloody.  The

creatures were nonsentient, of course, and it was vitally  important  that  he

and Mara get past them. But he  still  didn't  relish  the  idea  of  so  much

wholesale slaughter.

But maybe there was another way. "Keeper Of  Promises,  you've  obviously

run into these things before," he said, looking back over his shoulder.  "What

do they eat?"

Keeper Of Promises fluttered his wings. There are migrations  of  insects

at the beginning and closing of each season.

"Hmm?" Mara asked.

"Migrating insects," Luke translated.

"Ah," Mara said. "Except when they can get fresh Qom Jha, I suppose."

Splitter Of Stones ruffled his wings  warningly.  Do  not  be  insulting,

Jaded Of Mara.

"Of course, that doesn't explain what they're  eating  right  now,"  Mara

went on. "Not much in the way of insects down here at the moment."

"At least not any visible ones," Luke said. Closing down his  lightsaber,

he eased into the chamber, keeping close to the wall. Extending his lightsaber

handle out as far as he could, he gave the moss a sharp whack.

There was a sudden rumbling buzz; and  abruptly  a  dozen  large  insects

burst from unseen cavities in the moss, flying off madly across the chamber in

all directions.

They didn't get very far. As suddenly as the insects had  appeared  there

was a flurry of snapping tongues, and a moment later the chamber again settled

down into silence.

Behind Luke, Artoo  gurgled  nervously.  "Interesting,"  Mara  commented.

"That moss layer must be thicker than it looks." She eyed Luke. "I hope you're

not going to suggest we beat the walls and  try  to  sneak  across  while  the

feeding frenzy is going on."

"You're half  right,"  Luke  said,  igniting  his  lightsaber  and  again

stepping into the chamber. Easing the glowing blade  tip  into  the  moss,  he

carefully cut a meter-wide square of the material out of the general  expanse.

He closed down the weapon and returned it to his belt, got a good grip on  the

edges, and pulled.

With an oddly  discomfiting  tearing  sound,  a  fifteen-centimeter-thick

patch came away. Luke caught it across his forearms, trying to hold it more or

less together, wincing at the sight of  a  hundred  suddenly  disturbed  grubs

scurrying across the surface or burrowing back into the moss.

"Lovely," Mara said, coming to his side. "And now it's feeding time?"

"That's the plan," Luke said, easing over toward the next  hole  in  line

and lobbing the patch in front of it. The tongue snapped out, and in a  flurry

of moss dust the patch vanished.

"Let's see if it worked," Mara said, stepping past  Luke  and  stretching

her lightsaber blade in front of the hole.

Nothing happened. "Looks good," she decided. "Better get the  droid  past

while he's still chewing."

"Right," Luke said, turning and getting a Force grip on Artoo. "Child  Of

Winds, Qom Jha?let's go."

A minute later they were all on the far side  of  the  lair.  "Well,  I'm

impressed," Mara declared, easing out of her guard stance to join them.

"And it didn't require us  to  kill,"  Luke  pointed  out,  igniting  his

lightsaber and stepping over toward the next predator lair.

"Except a bunch of insects," Mara said. "You have a problem with insects,

by the way?"

He thought he'd been hiding it better than that. "They remind me of those

droch things, that's all. No problem."

"Ah," Mara said, closing down her lightsaber and stepping  around  behind

Luke. "Tell you what: you cut, and I'll peel. Okay?"

* * *

Two hours later, they finally stopped for the night.

"At least, I think it's night," Luke said, frowning  at  his  chrono.  "I

just realized I never got around to changing this thing to local time."

"It's night," Mara assured  him,  leaning  thankfully  back  against  her

chosen rock and closing her eyes. Later, she knew, she would pay for this with

numerous aches and pains from the dampness and sharp edges. But at the  moment

it felt immensely good. "Night is defined as time for all good little boys and

girls to go to sleep. Therefore, it is definitely night."

"I suppose so," Luke said.

Mara opened her eyes and peered across at him. There had been  a  flicker

of something in his emotions just then. "No?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, you're right," he conceded,  a  bit  reluctantly.

"We need to sleep."

Instead of what? Mara stretched out with the Force, trying to read deeper

into his mind. But the way was blocked, with nothing she could detect except a

barrier of uncertainty tinged with?

She frowned. Embarrassment? Was that really what she was getting?

It was. And for the great Jedi Master Luke Skywalker to even have such an

emotion was definitely evidence of progress.

And given that, the last thing she wanted to do was make it easy for him.

When he was finally willing to crack his shell far enough to ask her about her

relationship with Lando, she would tell him. Not before.

And maybe by that time he would be able to hear the other, more troubling

things she had to say to him.

Maybe.

CHAPTER

11

"So that's it, huh?" Wedge asked, leaning nonchalantly against one of the

old-style Bothan lampposts that lined the park  and  gazing  across  the  open

expanse at the gleaming white dome in the center.

"That's it," Corran  confirmed,  frowning  at  his  datapad.  "At  least,

according to this it is."

Wedge shifted his gaze to the periphery of the park,  to  the  encircling

street and the shops with their colorful trade flags that  lined  it.  It  was

apparently market day, and hundreds  of  Bothan  and  alien  pedestrians  were

milling through the area. "They must be nuts,"  he  told  Corran.  "Putting  a

target like that?"

He broke off as a couple of Duros brushed past him and headed off  at  an

angle across the park. "In a public area," he continued in a lower  tone,  "is

just begging for trouble."

"On the other hand, having a pole of your planetary shield  array  inside

your capital city pretty much guarantees the  safety  of  that  city,"  Corran

pointed out.

"That's going to be comforting to all the  offworlders  who  do  business

here."

"The Bothans always have been big on image," Wedge conceded sourly.

Even so, he had to admit the place wasn't  nearly  as  vulnerable  as  it

looked.

According to the data Bel  Iblis  had  pulled  for  them,  the  dome  was

constructed of a special permasteel alloy, had no windows and only  one  door,

and was filled with armed guards and automated defenses. The shield  generator

equipment itself was two floors  underground,  with  a  self-contained  backup

power supply, a room full of spare parts, and a cadre  of  on-duty  techs  who

could allegedly take the entire system apart and put it back together again in

two hours flat.

"True; but image apart, they've also  never  been  slouches  at  guarding

their own rear ends," Corran pointed out. "They'll have safeguards seven  ways

from?"

He stopped as a group of Bothans, chattering animatedly  to  each  other,

pushed their way between the two humans. A pair of  stragglers  following  the

main group were even more self-absorbed; one of them ran straight into  Wedge,

nearly knocking him over.

"My entire clan's apologies, sir," he gasped, his fur rippling with shame

and embarrassment as he backed rapidly away  directly  toward  Corran.  Corran

tried to sidestep, but the Bothan was already moving too fast and slammed into

him, too.

"You clumsy fool," the second Bothan berated him, grabbing  Corran's  arm

to help him regain his balance. "You will indebt our entire clan to  the  sun-

death of Bothawui. Our greatest  apologies,  kind  sirs.  Are  either  of  you

injured?"

"No,  we're  fine,"  Wedge  assured  him.  He  glanced  at   Corran   for

confirmation, caught just the hint of a frown creasing the  other's  forehead.

"On second thought?"

"Excellent,  excellent,"  the  Bothan  continued,  clearly   not   really

interested in the answer to his question as he took his  companion's  arm  and

steered them both toward the shops. "A fine and friendsome day to  you,  then,

fine sirs."

Wedge moved close to Corran's side, watching as the  two  Bothans  nearly

ran down an old human woman at the edge of the crowd and  then  vanished  into

the general pedestrian flow. "What's the matter?" he murmured. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Corran said slowly, his frown deepening. "There was just  something

that felt wrong about?"

Abruptly, he slapped at his tunic, his frown exploding  into  a  look  of

utter consternation. "Droyk! He took my wallet!"

"What?" Wedge snapped, grabbing for his own pocket.

And finding it empty. "Oh, sh?"

"Come on," Corran bit out, diving into the crowd.

"I don't believe this," Wedge snarled, diving in after him. "How in space

did they pull that off?"

"I don't know," Corran called over his shoulder, shoving  one  pedestrian

after another aside. "I would have sworn  I  knew  all  the  tricks.  I  don't

suppose you happened to notice the clan sigil they were wearing?"

"I saw it, but I didn't recognize it," Wedge told  him,  feeling  like  a

complete and blithering fool. Everything they  had?money,  credit  chits,  and

both their civilian and military IDs?were in  those  wallets.  "The  general's

going to kill us if we don't get them back."

"Yeah?one at a time and very slowly," Corran agreed darkly. He shouldered

his way through one last clump of pedestrians into a temporarily open spot  on

the walkway and stopped. "Anything?" he asked, craning his neck to  look  over

the crowds.

"Nothing," Wedge said, looking around and wondering what in the  name  of

Ackbar's aunt they were going to do now. The  Bothan  government  didn't  know

they were here, and would probably be furious if they found out. Ditto for any

New Republic officials. "I don't suppose you might be able to, ah??"

"If I couldn't pick up anything when they were right next to me, I'm  not

likely to be able to do it at this distance," Corran said, sounding thoroughly

disgusted with himself. "I hope you've got a backup plan ready."

"I thought you brought it," Wedge countered glumly. Unfortunately,  about

all they could do now was get back on their shuttle and rejoin  the  Peregrine

at Ord Trasi.

General Bel Iblis, it was rumored, had an awesome repertoire of Corellian

invective that only came to the surface when he was absolutely furious.  Wedge

himself had never personally been able to confirm the rumor. It seemed  likely

he would soon have the chance to do so. "You're never going to live  this  one

down with Mirax," he warned with a sigh.

"Right?like you're going to be able to live it down with  Iella,"  Corran

growled back.

"Hey, there, my fine young boys. Join me for a drink?"

Wedge turned, to find an old woman with bright eyes standing beside  him.

"What?"

"I asked you to join me for a drink," she repeated.  "It's  such  a  warm

day, and all that bright sunlight is hard on old eyes like mine."

"Sorry, but we're a  little  busy  right  now,"  Corran  said  brusquely,

standing on tiptoe to peer again over the crowd.

"You young people," the woman said reproachfully. "Always too busy to sit

down and enjoy life. Too busy to listen to the wisdom of the aged."

Wedge grimaced, turning his attention back to the crowd  and  hoping  the

old fool would take the hint. What she was doing ore-digging on the streets of

Drev'starn in the first place he couldn't imagine. "Look, ma'am, I'm sorry?"

"But too busy to share a drink with a lonely old lady?" she went on,  her

voice turning sorrowful. "That's just plain scandalous.  Especially  when  the

lonely old lady is buying."

Wedge looked back, searching for a firm yet polite way to get her off his

back.

"Look, ma'am?"

And paused. Her hand had come up now and was holding two items up for his

inspection. Two small, black folders.

Their wallets.

Wedge felt his mouth drop open a few millimeters, focusing for the  first

time on her face. It was the same woman the two pickpockets  had  bumped  into

during their hasty getaway. "Ah, Corran?" he said, reaching out and taking the

wallets from the woman's hand. "Never mind."

"Wha??" Corran demanded, the word strangling off midway as Wedge held out

his wallet to him. Warily, he took it, his eyes leaving the  woman  just  long

enough to confirm that everything was still there. "May I  ask  how  you  came

into possession of these?"

The woman chuckled, shaking her head. "You CorSec people are a stitch. Do

they program you for sound, or just feed you the manuals?"

Corran glanced at Wedge. "We like to be  precise,"  he  said,  his  voice

cautiously offended. "And it's former CorSec."

"Whatever," she said with a shrug. "Either way, you boys ought to be more

careful?those are nice family holos you've got in there, and I'd hate  to  see

you lose them. Now, Wedge, how about that drink? We really do have  a  lot  to

talk about."

"Yes, why not?" Wedge agreed  cautiously,  a  whole  list  of  unpleasant

possibilities running through his mind. If she  fingered  them  to  the  local

criminal groups?or worse, to the Vengeance organization?or even if she  merely

demanded a hefty reward?"You obviously already know our names. And you are...?

"

"Moranda Savich," she said. "Sort of a second-string employee of your old

friend Talon Karrde.

"And on second thought, you two are buying."

* * *

The waiter droid delivered their  drinks,  spilling  the  obligatory  few

drops onto the carved  stone  table,  accepted  Wedge's  coin,  and  departed.

"Chakta sai kae," Moranda said, lifting  her  glass.  "Did  I  get  it  right,

Corran? I've never been sure of the proper Corellian  pronunciation  for  that

toast."

"Close enough," Corran growled, lifting his gaze with obvious  reluctance

from the datapad and looking at Wedge. "Well?"

Wedge shrugged. "It looked okay to me."

" 'Okay' isn't good enough," Corran said darkly. "I also notice that  the

only way to confirm that this letter of introduction  is  really  from  Karrde

would be to run the ID codes through Coruscant."

"So get your tails over to the New Republic liaison office and have  them

do that," Moranda said, taking a long drink of  the  pale  blue-green  liqueur

she'd ordered.

"We aren't exactly fat on time here, you know."

"Yes," Wedge murmured, trying to read that so totally  unconcerned  face.

"Unfortunately..."

"Unfortunately, you can't do that?" she suggested, peering at Wedge  over

her glass. "Yes, I thought so. Awkward."

"Why do you say that?" Corran demanded.

"Why do I say what?" Moranda countered. "That you're on your own, or that

that's awkward?"

"The first," Corran said. "You sound like you almost expected that."

"Oh, come on," she said scornfully. "I did get  a  long  look  into  your

wallets, remember. What  other  conclusion  is  there  when  you've  got  your

military IDs buried back behind the civilian ones?"

"Exactly," Corran said, fixing her with the  kind  of  glare  that  Wedge

decided was probably standard  Corellian  Security  issue.  "Which  means  you

already knew we couldn't check up on this story before you spun it for us."

"And what, created that on the  fly?"  she  asked,  pointing  toward  the

datacard still in his datapad.

"Or had it sitting in with your collection of a dozen  other  forgeries,"

Corran shot back. "How are we supposed to know?"

Lifting her glass, Moranda drained it. "Never mind," she said, getting to

her feet. "I assumed we were on the same side here, and thought  we  might  be

able to help each other. Apparently we can't. Try to hold on to your wallets a

little better next time."

Wedge looked at Corran, caught the other's fractional nod.  "Please;  sit

down, Moranda," he said, half rising from his own chair and catching her  arm.

It felt painfully thin beneath her sleeve. "Please."

She paused, throwing a speculative look at each of  them.  Then,  smiling

tightly at Wedge, she resumed her seat. "A test, I presume. Did I pass?"

"Well enough for us to at least listen some more," Wedge told her. "Let's

start with exactly why you're here."

"Presumably the same reason you are," she said. "Karrde sees an explosion

coming, with the Bothans in the middle of it, and wants to see  if  there  are

outside forces planning to squeeze the detonators."

"And you're all he could spare?" Corran suggested.

"Hardly," Moranda said. "He's  got  people  all  over  the  New  Republic

tracking personnel and equipment movements. Other people are  sifting  through

every report and hint and speculation that crops up. I just happen to  be  the

one on the ground here."

"With what instructions?" Wedge asked.

Moranda nodded in the direction of the tapcafe door. "There's  a  lot  of

firepower in orbit up there," she said. "They could  start  shooting  at  each

other anytime.

But if anyone wants to take a poke at Bothawui itself,  they'll  have  to

get rid of the planetary shields first. Karrde asked me  to  keep  an  eye  on

them."

"Is that why you were hanging around  the  Drev'starn  generator?"  Wedge

asked. "Trying to see how someone might get inside?"

"I'd already done that," she said.  "Actually,  I  was  out  there  today

seeing if I could spot anyone else casing the place." She smiled  maliciously.

"Which is why I latched on to you two. No offense, but  you  stand  out  in  a

crowd like a Wookiee at a Noghri family reunion."

Wedge nodded as understanding struck. "Is that why you  had  our  pockets

picked?

So you could find out who we were?"

Moranda's thin lips twitched. "As a matter of fact, no, I didn't. I  just

happened to be watching when those Bothans lifted your stuff and made sure I'd

be in position to lift it back from them."

Wedge looked at Corran. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That someone may have noticed us," Corran said, running a careful glance

around the tapcafe. "Could be. I don't suppose you might have any  idea  where

those two pickpockets might have gone to ground, do you?"

"Sorry," Moranda said, shaking her head. "I only got  here  a  couple  of

days ago and haven't had a chance to link up with the local fringe."

"But you could link up with them if you wanted to?"  Wedge  asked,  still

trying to get a feel for this woman. Karrde  he  more  or  less  trusted;  but

Karrde had a huge organization, and he couldn't possibly know everyone  in  it

personally. Moranda Savich could easily  be  playing  both  ends  against  the

middle, or bleeding Karrde's organization for her own purposes, or  even  just

using him for free room and board whenever she was between more unsavory jobs.

If someone from Vengeance, say, were to offer her a big enough pot of money to

betray him and Corran, would she do it?

Moranda sighed. "Look, Wedge," she said quietly. "I used  to  do  a  fair

amount of con work, and in con work you learn how to read  people's  faces.  I

can tell you don't trust me. And I really don't blame you?we  have  just  met,

after all. But I've got that letter from Karrde, and I did  get  your  wallets

back. Offhand, I don't know what else I can do to persuade you."

"But you do want to persuade us," Corran said.

She smiled, a tight, brittle thing. "I was given an assignment," she said

simply.

Wedge suppressed a grimace.  He  still  felt  odd  about  this,  but  her

arguments did seem to make sense. If anything turned up later,  Corran's  Jedi

senses would hopefully pick it up. "All right," he said. "For the  moment,  at

least, let's pool resources. Any suggestions?"

"Well, obviously, the first thing we need to do is  find  out  if  anyone

suspicious has arrived since that orbiting research station  was  destroyed  a

week ago," Moranda said, her tone all business now. "That's what started  this

whole military buildup, after all. If Vengeance decided to take  advantage  of

that, they may have needed to move more of their people here."

"Vengeance or anyone else," Corran murmured. "The Empire, for example."

"Seems  reasonable,"  Wedge  agreed.  "There's  only  one  problem.  That

information is locked up over  in  the  Bothawui  Customs  computers,  and  we

haven't got access to it."

"Oh, that's no problem," Moranda assured him with an  airy  wave  of  her

hand. "Come on, finish up, and we'll go to your place and talk about it."

"Sure," Wedge said, taking a long sip from his as yet untouched drink and

getting to his feet. Whatever happened here, he decided, this was going to  be

most interesting.

Not that that was necessarily a good thing.

* * *

"Really?" Navett said into his comlink, looking up as Klif came into  the

Exoticalia Pet Emporium and closed the door behind him.  "Hey,  that's  great.

When can I come by and pick 'em up?"

"Anytime you wish," the Bothan Customs official's  voice  came  from  the

comlink.

From the background came the faint sound of a sneeze. "Preferably  soon,"

he added.

"You bet we will," Navett  said  cheerfully.  "Got  customers  coming  in

already wantin' to see what we got, and we have to tell  'em  we  haven't  got

anything yet.

We can come over now, right?"

"I believe I've already answered that question," the  Bothan  replied  as

another sneeze sounded in the background.

"Oh?right," Navett said as Klif came over. "Great. Thanks a lot."

"A day of peace and profit to you."

"Yeah, same to you."

He shut the comlink off. "We're in," he told Klif, putting the instrument

away.

"And from the sneezing, I'd say at least some of the Bothans are allergic

to our little polpians."

"Should make them eager to get rid of them," Klif said.

"I think it already did," Navett agreed. "You see Horvic?"

Klif nodded. "He and Pensin are in as maintenance staff for  that  Ho'Din

dive two blocks back from the shield generator. Post-closing shift."

"Perfect," Navett said. If their schematics were right, that tapcafe  was

directly over one of the underground conduits carrying power cables  into  the

place.

"Yeah." Klif's face soured. "Now for the bad news. The two Bothan lifters

we hired muffed the job."

Navett swore. He should have known better than  to  trust  local  talent.

"They get caught?"

"According to them, the actual  lift  went  smooth  as  lake  ice."  Klif

grimaced. "It's just that when they got back  to  me,  they  didn't  have  the

wallets anymore."

Navett felt his eyes narrow. "What do you mean, they didn't have them?"

"Just what I said: they lost them. Best guess  is  that  someone  in  the

crowd saw them lift the wallets and returned the favor."

"You're sure they didn't just pocket the cash themselves?"

Klif shrugged. "Not absolutely sure, no. But it's hard to believe a  pair

of New Rep agents would be carrying more cash than I was offering." He  pursed

his lips.

"Unless, of course, they aren't New Rep agents."

Navett pulled over a chair and settled thoughtfully  into  it.  Could  he

have been mistaken about them?

"No," he answered his own question. "No,  they're  New  Rep,  all  right.

Probably military, too, from the look of them. The question is,  who  is  this

new skifter who's joined the party?"

"You don't think it was just  another  lifter  taking  advantage  of  the

situation?" Klif asked.

Navett cocked an eyebrow. "Do you?"

"No, not really," Klif said heavily. "Too much danger of  getting  caught

with the goods when the marks woke up."

"My point exactly," Navett said. "No, they've picked up a fringe ally.  A

very good fringe ally, too, from the sound of it."

Klif hissed softly between his teeth. "We don't have anyone to spare  for

a proper surveillance," he reminded Navett. "Maybe we  ought  to  get  rid  of

them."

Navett scratched his cheek. It was a tempting suggestion. A tricky job on

a tight timetable was bad enough without  New  Rep  military  agents  snooping

around.

If they could be quietly eliminated...

"No," he said. "Not yet. They can't possibly be on to us. We'll  keep  an

eye out, and if they seem to be taking too much interest in us we may have  to

do something about it. But for right now, we'll let them be."

Klif's lip twitched. "You're the boss,"  he  said.  "I  hope  you're  not

making a mistake."

"If I am, it's a mistake that's easily corrected," Navett said,  standing

up. "Come on. Let's put  on  our  earnest-but-stupid  faces  and  go  get  our

animals."

CHAPTER

12

From somewhere in the far distance  came  the  warbling  call  of  Noghri

combat code.

"The ship is approaching," Barkhimkh translated. "Sakhisakh can see it."

"I'll take his word for it," Leia said. Hemmed in by the  closely  spaced

trees that clustered on this  small  hill  overlooking  Pakrik  Minor's  North

Barris Spaceport, she could see precious little but  greenery  around  her,  a

minuscule patch of blue sky directly above her,  and  the  landspeeder  they'd

borrowed from Sabmin beneath her.

A slightly awkward situation, in her opinion, and  probably  unnecessary,

besides.

Given that that transmission had carried Bel Iblis's  personal  signature

code and bridgebreak confirmation, it could be no one but the general on  that

incoming ship. But her Noghri guards hadn't wanted her to show  herself  until

the ship's occupant was positively identified,  and  for  the  sake  of  their

concerns she had agreed to do this their way.

She could hear the approaching ship now. "Sounds pretty small," she said,

running through her Jedi sensory enhancement exercises to  boost  the  distant

whine into something clearer.

"It does indeed," Barkhimkh's quiet agreement boomed uncomfortably loudly

in her sensitized hearing. "I will observe."

There was the crash of a body  moving  through  foliage,  the  thunderous

noise fading to whispers as Leia reduced her hearing back to its normal level.

In the distance she heard the whine blip up, then drop off sharply as the ship

settled onto its pad and powered down.

The sound faded away completely, and for a long minute there was  nothing

but the rustling of leaves around her. Leia waited, wondering what  was  going

on out there. The grandly named spaceport was  actually  little  more  than  a

large open field with a handful of permacrete landing pads  scattered  around;

it shouldn't take this long for Sakhisakh to get over to the ship and check it

out.

Unless there was some kind of trouble. She stretched out  to  the  Force,

seeking guidance...

And then, drifting in on the breeze, came a second  Noghri  battle  call.

"There is no danger, and we may come," Barkhimkh said from her side, his voice

slightly puzzled. "But he warns that all is not as expected."

Leia frowned. Not as expected? "What does that mean? Isn't Garm there?"

"I do not know," Barkhimkh said, climbing into the landspeeder and keying

its repulsorlifts. "I could see only that the ship was indeed  small,  as  you

had already ascertained, and that it bore no markings."

"No markings?" Leia asked carefully. "None?"

"None that I could see," Barkhimkh said  again,  easing  the  landspeeder

through the trees. "Perhaps at a closer distance they will be visible."

Aside from a dilapidated grain freighter at the far end of the field, the

newcomer was the only ship in sight. It was indeed a small vessel, probably  a

two-person craft, with the lines of a diplomatic shuttle but of a design  Leia

couldn't remember ever having seen before. At the bow, where a diplomatic ship

would have carried governmental markings, there was nothing. Midway along  the

side, the hatchway stood open, with a short ramp leading down from it  to  the

permacrete. "Has Sakhisakh gone inside?" she asked.

"Yes," Barkhimkh answered. "He is waiting with the pilot and passenger."

Pilot and passenger? Leia nodded mechanically, her  eyes  on  the  ship's

bow. Now, as they neared the craft, she could see  for  the  first  time  that

there were indeed faint markings on the hull where some sort of  insignia  had

once been.

And even with just the outlines  visible,  there  was  something  vaguely

familiar about the design. Something that was triggering an equally vague  but

nevertheless disturbing memory...

The landspeeder came to a stop at  the  ramp.  "Councilor  Organa  Solo,"

Sakhisakh called down gravely from the open  hatchway.  "Your  visitor  humbly

requests the honor of your presence."

"Of course," Leia said, matching the Noghri's formal tone. Sakhisakh knew

Bel Iblis quite well; who could be in there that would make him go all  formal

this way? "Would my visitor like to present his request in person?"

"He would," Sakhisakh said, bowing slightly and stepping back out of  the

hatchway.

And as he did so, a new  figure  stepped  into  view.  A  tall  humanoid,

covered with soft golden down, with subtle purple markings around his eyes and

shoulders. "Peace to you, High Councilor Leia Organa Solo," he said, his voice

smooth and rich, yet with an undertone of deep and ancient sadness to  it.  "I

am Elegos A'kla, Trustant for the Caamasi Remnant. Will you join me aboard  my

ship?"

Leia swallowed hard as the memories came flooding back. Her  visit  as  a

child to the secret Caamasi refugee camps on Alderaan,  and  the  hundreds  of

colorful flags flying Caamasi family crests that she'd seen there.

Crests like the one that had been removed from the bow of Elegos's  ship.

"Yes, Trustant A'kla," she said. "I would be honored."

"Please forgive my  intrusion  upon  your  privacy,"  the  Caamasi  said,

backing away as she started up the ramp. "I am told you and your bondmate came

here for rest, and I would not normally have violated your  aloneness.  But  I

greatly wished to speak with you; and the one whom I brought with me said  his

errand was important to the point of terrible urgency."

"And that person is?" Leia asked as she stepped into the ship, stretching

out with the Force. There was definitely someone else here. Someone familiar..

.

"I believe you are acquainted with him," Elegos said, stepping out of the

way to the side.

And there in a chair in the back of the room, squirming  nervously  under

Sakhisakh's watchful eye?

"Ghent!" Leia exclaimed. "What in the name of the  Force  are  you  doing

here?"

"I needed to talk to you right away," Ghent said, his voice sounding even

more nervous than he looked as he bounded out of the chair. "I wanted  General

Bel Iblis, but he's missing and I can't get hold of him. And you're  President

of the New Republic and all, so?"

"I'm not actually President at the moment, Ghent," Leia  interrupted  him

gently.

"I'm on a leave of absence. Ponc Gavrisom is in charge of the government.

"

Ghent blinked in surprise, and in spite of the seriousness in his  manner

Leia had to fight to keep from smiling. Ghent had once been Talon Karrde's top

slicer,  with  such  an  awesome  talent  for  breaking  into  and   otherwise

manipulating computer systems that Bel Iblis had made it his personal goal  to

lure the kid away from Karrde's organization. In the years since  the  general

had succeeded in doing so, Ghent had proved  himself  over  and  over,  rising

steadily through the ranks until he now held the post of Crypt Chief.

But away from his beloved computers, the young man was about as naive and

innocent and lost as it was humanly possible to be. The fact that,  living  in

the heart of Coruscant, he'd still managed to miss  Leia's  leave  of  absence

entirely was just about normal for him.

"Perhaps she can still be of assistance," Elegos suggested, stepping into

Ghent's embarrassed consternation with typical Caamasi aplomb. "Why don't  you

tell her why you're here?"

"Yeah, sure," Ghent said, recovering his voice and digging a datapad  out

of an old and worn holder on his belt. "You see, General Bel Iblis gave  me  a

datacard?"

"One moment," Sakhisakh's harsh voice cut him off. "Was it you  who  sent

Councilor Organa Solo a message over Bel Iblis's name?"

"Well, uh... yeah," Ghent admitted, eyeing the Noghri warily.  "I  wanted

the general, you see, but I couldn't get to him. And  I  found  out  Leia  was

here?"

"What do you mean you couldn't get to him?" Leia interrupted.  "Where  is

he? Has something happened?"

"No, no, he's off in Kothlis system," Ghent assured her quickly, his eyes

reluctantly shifting away from the Noghri to her. "Some kind of ship buildup?I

don't know what for. But I couldn't get a message through  to  him,  not  even

with top clearance codes. So when I found out you were here?"

"How did you find out she was here?" Sakhisakh demanded.

Ghent squirmed again. "Well... it was in  Gavrisom's  files.  I  mean,  I

wouldn't usually slice into High Council stuff, but it was  really  important.

And then I met him?" He waved helplessly at Elegos.

"I was waiting at your office for you," the Caamasi spoke up,  his  voice

sending a wave of welcome calmness through the room.  "As  my  two  colleagues

made clear when you spoke  with  them,  we  are  deeply  concerned  about  the

direction this matter has taken. Now, with overt  threats  toward  the  Bothan

people, that concern has been greatly magnified."

He shrugged, the gesture rippling through  his  entire  back  up  to  his

shoulders. "I had of course planned  to  wait  until  you  returned  to  speak

further with you. But Crypt Chief Ghent was  so  insistent  that  he  see  you

immediately that I offered him transport, provided he was able to locate you."

"And provided he could use Garm's private signature code to make sure I'd

come to the spaceport?" Leia asked, lifting her eyebrows at Ghent.

The young slicer winced. "I didn't think you'd come if it was  just  me,"

he muttered.

Leia suppressed a sigh. Yes, that was indeed  classic  Ghent.  In  actual

fact, his name and expertise carried enormous weight among the upper levels of

the New Republic government. Another fact he'd undoubtedly missed completely.

And as for bringing Elegos along, Ghent probably didn't have the faintest

idea of how to fly a starship himself. Frustrating and annoying,  but  it  all

fit. "All right, relax," she said. "The interrogation is over, and all  is  at

least temporarily forgiven. Now. What is this errand that was  worth  breaking

half a dozen laws for?"

Wincing again, Ghent handed her the datapad in his hand. "It's  really  a

message for Bel Iblis," he said. "But?look, just read it, okay?"

Leia took the datapad and keyed it on. On the other  hand,  she  couldn't

help wondering, if she'd known that it was only Ghent and not  Bel  Iblis  who

wanted to see her, would she have pushed harder for Han to take her  along  on

his trip into the heart of  the  Empire?  Even  without  Ghent's  message  the

reasons had seemed right and proper at the time. But still...

And then the words popped onto the datapad display... and  an  icy  chill

ran through her. "Where did you get  this?"  she  asked,  her  voice  sounding

unreal through the sudden pounding in her ears.

"General Bel Iblis brought it back from Morishim," Ghent said, his  voice

trembling now, too. "There was a Corellian Corvette that came into the system,

only a Star Destroyer caught up with it and took it away."

"I remember reading Garm's private report on that," Leia said. "He wanted

the incident kept quiet while he tried to find out what it was all about."

"Well, this was a transmission from the Corvette," Ghent  said.  "It  was

all mangled up, but I was able to sort through the jamming and  untangle  it."

He took a noisy breath. "You see why I had to get it to someone right away?"

Leia nodded silently, staring down at the message.

?is Colonel Meizh Vermel, special envoy from Admiral Pellaeon, sent  here

to contact General Bel Iblis concerning the  negotiation  of  a  peace  treaty

between the Empire and New Republic. My ship is  under  attack  by  traitorous

elements of the Empire, and I do not expect to survive. If  the  New  Republic

agrees to hold such discussions, Admiral Pellaeon will be at the abandoned gas

mining center on Pesitiin in one month to meet with you.  Repeating:  This  is

Colonel Meizh Vermel...

"Councilor?" Sakhisakh murmured quietly from across the room.  "Is  there

trouble?"

Leia looked up at the Noghri,  almost  startled  to  find  him  there  as

thoughts swirled through her mind. A peace treaty. Not a temporary truce,  but

an actual, genuine peace. Something she'd been looking  for  and  longing  for

since the days of Emperor Palpatine and her own youthful  decision  to  oppose

him and all he stood for.

And here it was, being offered to them by the Supreme  Commander  of  the

entire Imperial Fleet.

Or was it? Pellaeon was only offering to negotiate, after all. Were there

preconditions that would be brought up at  such  a  meeting,  conditions  that

would turn the whole exercise into little more than a waste of time or, worse,

a propaganda coup for the Empire?

Or was it worse even than that? Was it some sort of trap?

"Councilor?" Sakhisakh repeated, stepping to her side,  his  large  black

eyes gazing with concern up at her. "What disturbs you?"

Wordlessly, she handed the datapad  to  him.  Because  Pellaeon  probably

wasn't in charge of the Empire anymore. If Lando was  to  be  believed?and  if

that wasn't some sort of trick itself?Grand Admiral Thrawn had returned.

And with Thrawn, nothing was ever what it seemed. Ever.

Sakhisakh spat something vicious-sounding in the  Noghri  language.  "You

cannot believe this," he growled, thrusting the datapad back at Ghent as if it

were something unclean he was disgusted to even  touch.  "The  Empire  is  the

embodiment of lies and treachery. It will never be otherwise."

"It's often been that way, yes," Leia agreed soberly. "On the other hand?

"

"There is no other hand!" Sakhisakh snarled. "They betrayed and  murdered

my people. They betrayed and murdered your people."

"I know," Leia murmured, the old ache  rising  again  like  acid  in  her

throat.

"And if Thrawn has indeed cheated death," the Noghri went on,  his  voice

turning to something deadly,  "then  there  is  even  more  reason  to  reject

anything the Empire might say."

"Probably," Leia said. And yet...

"May I see it?" Elegos asked.

Leia hesitated. Technically, this was highly  confidential  New  Republic

business...

"Yes, of course," she said,  handing  the  datapad  to  him,  her  Force-

sensitized instincts overruling the strict legalities of the situation. Before

the destruction of their world,  the  Caamasi  had  been  among  the  greatest

mediators and negotiators the Old Republic had ever  known,  their  skills  in

such matters rivaling even those of the Jedi.  Elegos  might  well  have  some

insight that would help her sort it all out.

For a long minute, the Caamasi studied the datapad in silence. Then,  his

blue-on-green eyes glittering with emotion, he lifted his gaze to  her  again.

"I see no alternative," he said. "Yes, it may be  a  trap,  but  that  is  not

certain. And if there is even a small chance that Admiral Pellaeon is sincere,

that chance must be explored."

Sakhisakh regarded the other  suspiciously.  "I  have  long  admired  the

Caamasi, Trustant A'kla," he said, his voice on the edge of challenging.  "But

in this, you speak the words of an unweaned child. Do you  truly  suggest  Bel

Iblis walk openly into the Empire's hands?"

"You misunderstand, my friend," Elegos said  calmly.  "I  offer  no  such

course for General Bel Iblis. Indeed, as you  have  already  pointed  out,  it

would be impossible even to suggest it to him."

"Why?" Leia asked.

"Because as Ghent has discovered,  we  have  no  means  of  communicating

quickly with him," Elegos said. "And speed is vital, because this  opportunity

may even now be closing." He touched the datapad. "I  do  not  know  when  the

Morishim incident took place, but it is clear  that  forces  opposing  Admiral

Pellaeon have already begun to gather against him. Even if all  overt  attacks

have failed, he cannot wait forever for Coruscant's response."

Sakhisakh threw a wary glance at Leia. "Who then do you suggest be  asked

to walk into the Empire's hands?"

Elegos shook his head. "There is no need to  ask  anyone,"  he  told  the

Noghri. "The choice is apparent and obvious. I will go."

Sakhisakh seemed taken aback. "You?"

"Of course," Elegos said. "Councilor Organa Solo, I have an obligation to

return Ghent to Coruscant. If you will accept that obligation upon yourself, I

can leave for Pesitiin immediately."

Leia sighed. Now, at last, she understood why it had seemed right for her

to let Han go to Bastion alone  while  she  waited  here.  "There's  no  need,

Elegos," she said. "You can take him back yourself. I'll be the one  going  to

Pesitiin."

Sakhisakh made a noise in his throat. "I cannot allow  you  to  do  that,

Councilor Organa Solo," he rumbled. "To step into such danger?"

"I'm sorry, Sakhisakh," Leia said gently. "But as  Elegos  said,  there's

only one choice possible. I'm the only one  here  who  has  the  authority  to

negotiate on behalf of the New Republic."

"Then bring someone else in from Coruscant," the Noghri demanded.

"As Elegos has also said, we don't have time," Leia said. "If Pellaeon is

on schedule, he's been at Pesitiin for eleven days already. I have to go,  and

I have to go now." She took a deep breath. "If you can't handle  dealing  with

Imperials, I'll certainly understand. I can take the Falcon and go alone."

"Please do not insult me," Sakhisakh said darkly. "Barkhimkh and  I  will

of course accompany you. Even to death, if that is what awaits us."

"Thank you," Leia said. "Thank you, too, Ghent, for bringing this to  me.

You did the right thing, flagrant illegalities  and  all.  Trustant  A'kla,  I

thank you too for your assistance here."

"Wait a minute," Ghent said, his eyes  looking  confused  again.  "You're

going out there? Alone?"

"Not alone," Sakhisakh growled. "We will be with her."

"Yeah, sure," Ghent said, looking back and forth between Leia and Elegos.

"I meant... Elegos? Can't you?you know?"

"Travel alongside her?" the Caamasi said. "Certainly,  I  would  be  more

than willing to do so. Though  I  have  no  official  standing  with  the  New

Republic, my people have some small skills at negotiation." He regarded  Ghent

thoughtfully. "But as I have already explained, I have the prior obligation of

returning you to Coruscant."

"Unless you're willing to take a shuttle over to Pakrik Major and find  a

liner to take you back," Leia suggested.

"But I didn't mean for you  to?"  Ghent's  face  twisted  into  something

almost painful-looking. "I mean, I only brought you the message because?"

He sighed, a great exhaling of air that seemed to shrink him down like  a

collapsing balloon. "Okay," he said in resignation. "Yeah, okay. Sure, I'll go

with you, too. Why not?"

Leia blinked. It was not the decision she'd been expecting from  him.  "I

appreciate the offer, Ghent," she said. "But it's really not necessary."

"No, no?don't try to talk me out of it," Ghent  said.  "I  got  you  into

this?might as well stick through to the end. Everybody says I need to get  out

more, anyway."

Leia glanced at Elegos, caught the other's microscopic  nod.  Apparently,

three days alone in a two-man ship with a Caamasi had done Ghent  a  world  of

good.

Or else the young slicer was finally beginning to grow up.

"All right," she said. "Thank you. Thank you all." She glanced around the

room.

"We'll have to take the Falcon, I'm afraid?this ship is too small for all

of us.

It's about a twenty-minute landspeeder ride away."

"Then let us go," Elegos said, gently prodding. "There is little time  to

spare."

Five minutes later they were racing across the  Pakrik  Minor  landscape,

the whistling of the wind the only sound as the five occupants sat wrapped  in

the silence of their own thoughts.

What the others were thinking during that trip Leia  never  learned.  But

for herself, a new and disturbing thought had  suddenly  occurred  to  her.  A

Jedi, she knew, could often see or sense into the future and, as  she  herself

had often done, could similarly gain a sense of  the  Tightness  of  the  path

being taken or the Jedi's own position along that path. She  was  seeing  that

rightness for herself now.

But could any Jedi, she wondered, see ahead to his or her own  death?  Or

would the path leading to that moment always remain in darkness? Feeling right

and proper, perhaps, all the way up to the point of passage?

She didn't know. Perhaps this would be the path where she would find out.

CHAPTER

13

From the far aft cabin, the warbling of the Wild Karrde's  bridge  battle

alert was a quiet, almost subtle thing. But Shada had been trained  to  notice

subtle things, and she was awake and out of bed before  the  distant  trilling

had finished its down scale and shut off. Throwing on her robe,  stuffing  her

blaster into a side pocket, she headed for the bridge.

The corridors were deserted. Shada picked up her pace,  ears  cocked  for

the noise of battle or the straining engines that  would  indicate  escape  or

evasion. But the ship was eerily quiet, with the steady drone of the drive and

her own softly slapping footsteps the only sounds she could hear.  Ahead,  the

bridge door slid open at her approach; slipping her hand into her robe  pocket

and getting a grip on her blaster, she charged through the doorway.

And skidded to a slightly confused halt. The bridge crew were  seated  in

their normal positions, some of them looking questioningly back at her  abrupt

entrance.

Ahead, out the viewport, the mottled sky of hyperspace was rolling past.

"Hello, Shada," Karrde said, looking  up  from  the  engineering  monitor

where he and Pormfil had apparently been consulting on something.  "I  thought

you were still sleeping. What brings you here at this hour?"

"Your battle alert?what did you think?" Shada countered,  looking  around

again. "What's going on, a drill?"

"Not quite," Karrde said, stepping over to her. "My apologies;  I  didn't

think you'd be able to hear the alert where you were."

"Listening for trouble is part of my job," she said tartly. "What is this

'not quite' drill of yours?"

"We're coming up on the Episol  system  and  the  world  Dayark,"  Karrde

explained. "There's a fair chance we'll run into some trouble when we come out

of hyperspace."

Shada looked out the viewport. "That rogue pirate gang Bombaasa  told  us

about?"

"Possibly," Karrde said. "Word of our voyage has undoubtedly preceded us.

"

"Not to mention word of your identity," Shada said.

Karrde's lip twitched. "Regardless, after that ship  we  spotted  hanging

around our Jangelle course change point, I thought  it  best  if  we  hit  the

Episol system prepared."

"Sounds reasonable," Shada said. "Except  for  the  part  about  you  not

thinking I needed to be informed."

"I didn't think there would  be  anything  you  could  do,"  Karrde  said

mildly. "Unless they board us?which I guarantee they will not  do?there  won't

be any hand-to-hand combat."

"Hand-to-hand is hardly my sole area of expertise," Shada  said  stiffly.

"Or didn't I mention I'm fully qualified to handle those turbolasers of yours?

"

The whole bridge had taken on an air of  watchful  silence.  "You  hadn't

mentioned that, no," Karrde said. "But at this point it's largely  irrelevant.

The turbolaser bays are by necessity somewhat exposed, and if there's  trouble

I'd rather have you here where it's?well?"

"Where it's safe?" Shada finished for him. "Why, because it might not  be

pirates waiting for us out there?"

Dankin turned half around from the helm to look at Karrde. He opened  his

mouth as if to speak, thought better of it, and turned back around again.

"It's not Car'das," Karrde said, his  voice  carefully  controlled.  "Not

here. If he was going to hit us at a distance, he'd have done so already. That

means he's decided to wait until we reach Exocron."

"It's always nice to have something to look forward to,"  Shada  growled.

"In that case, let me take one of the turbolasers. I'm at  least  as  good  as

Balig?probably better than Chal."

"We could put Chal at the spotting station," Dankin murmured.

Karrde's lip twitched, but he nodded. "All right, we'll see what you  can

do.

Dankin, tell Chal to come back and take over spotting. H'sishi,  how  are

we for timing?"

[We are four minutes one-half from arrival,] the Togorian at  the  sensor

station said, her yellow eyes studying Shada with unblinking intensity.

"You'd best get up there," Karrde  said  to  Shada,  nodding  toward  the

bridge door.

"It's turbolaser two."

"I know," Shada said. "I'll check in when I'm ready."

Three minutes later she was strapped into the control console facing  the

big transparisteel bubble, running  a  prefire  checklist  and  fighting  back

twenty years' worth of ghosts of other such battles, first  with  the  Mistryl

and then with Mazzic's smugglers. With most of those battles she'd been  lucky

enough to be on the winning side. With the others...

"Shada, this is Chal," the  young  man's  voice  came  through  her  comm

headset. "You ready?"

"Almost," Shada said, watching as the last of the self-check lights  went

green.

"Yes, ready."

"Okay." If Chal was annoyed at having been summarily kicked  out  of  his

post, it didn't show in his voice.  "Stay  sharp;  we're  counting  down  now.

Starting at ten...

mark."

She listened with half an ear to the countdown, her hands resting on  the

controls, her eyes already  starting  the  combat  scan  pattern  her  Mistryl

instructors had taught her so long ago. The count reached  zero,  the  mottled

sky flared to starlines and shrank to stars?

And with a terrific jolt a laser bolt slammed hard into the Wild Karrde's

side.

[Seven targets waiting,] H'sishi snarled, the tone of  her  voice  giving

Shada the mental picture of all that gray-white fur standing  on  end.  [Small

attack vessels?Corsair-class.]

"Confirmed on number and class," Chal added. "Bearings?"

The targeting recitation was drowned out  in  the  hissing  roar  of  her

turbolaser as Shada swung the weapon around and fired. One  of  the  Corsairs,

trying to sneak in  under  the  freighter's  docking  bay,  caught  the  burst

squarely on its left flank and flashed into dust. His wingman, dodging most of

the debris, scrambled  wildly  for  distance  but  succeeded  only  in  flying

straight into a burst from Griv's  turbolaser.  What  remained  of  the  craft

continued outward on an inertial trajectory, blazing  like  a  flying  funeral

pyre.

"Two down!" Chal crowed. "Make that three."

"Everyone stay sharp," Karrde's calmer voice said.  "We  caught  them  by

surprise this time. They know what to expect now."

Shada nodded silent agreement,  taking  a  quick  look  at  her  tactical

display. The four remaining Corsairs had pulled back, pacing the  Wild  Karrde

but clearly not overly anxious to engage it again. Karrde, meanwhile, had  the

freighter burning hard through space toward the distant gas giant around which

the Kathol Republic's capital world of Dayark  revolved.  "My  guess  is  that

they'll try their ion cannon next," she said. "Can we handle that?"

"Easily," Karrde assured her. "Certainly ion cannon that small. Here they

come."

Breaking into pairs, the four Corsairs  shot  over  and  under  the  Wild

Karrde, blasting away at full power with their ion cannon. Shada fired  off  a

quick burst, catching one of them glancingly across  the  top  quarter  before

both ships disappeared behind the Wild Karrde's bulk. "Spotter?" she called.

"You took out his ion cannon," Chal confirmed. "Balig, you've knocked out

his rear deflector?"

[They attack again,] H'sishi's snarl cut him off. Shada  glanced  at  the

tactical and swung her turbolaser around  toward  where  the  nearest  Corsair

should appear...

The attacker swung around the Wild  Karrde's  hull,  its  lasers  blazing

uselessly away at the freighter's thick armor. Shada and Balig fired back, the

twin turbolaser blasts catching him squarely across the bow and shattering him

in a brilliant flash of light?

And with a  deafening  thunderclap  something  slammed  straight  through

Shada's transparisteel bubble.

"I'm hit!" Shada gasped, fighting against the sudden tearing pain in  her

right chest and shoulder. All around her a  cold  wind  whistled  as  the  air

rushed through the shattered bubble. Her right hand was useless; with her left

hand she dug at her restraints, wondering distantly if she would  be  able  to

get loose and out of the bay before the vacuum took her. Perhaps now, at last,

it was all finally over...

The wind was starting to diminish by the time she got the  top  restraint

off. A bad sign. She shifted her hand to the lower strap, her vision  starting

to waver...

And with a second thud, more felt than really heard, the bubble and stars

vanished into a plate of gray metal.

She blinked; but even as her oxygen-starved brain tried to figure it out,

there was an ear-popping rush of air into the bay, and suddenly strange  hands

were snapping off the last of her restraints. "We've got her!" a voice shouted

uncomfortably loud in her ear. "But she's been hit. Get Annowiskri down  here,

fast."

"Already here," a second voice came in from Shada's other side. There was

a tingle of something in her arm...

She came to slowly, or at least slowly for a Mistryl. For  a  moment  she

remained lying quietly, her eyes closed, as she assessed the situation and her

own physical condition. Her right chest and arm felt  vaguely  numb,  and  her

scalp itched like it always did after a session in a  bacta  tank,  but  aside

from that she felt reasonably fine. From the soft sound of breathing she could

tell she wasn't alone; from the lack of background engine or machinery  sounds

it seemed the Wild Karrde had made it through to Dayark.

So it wasn't the end yet, and life remained before her. A pity. Taking  a

deep but quiet breath, she opened her eyes.

She was lying on one of the three beds in the Wild Karrde's medical  bay.

Seated across the room, staring meditatively off into space,  was  Karrde.  "I

take it we won?" Shada asked.

Karrde jerked slightly, his gaze coming back to her. "Yes, we  won  quite

handily," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Not too bad," she said, moving her right arm experimentally. Aside  from

some stiffness and the numbness she'd already noted, it didn't seem  too  bad,

at least as long as she didn't try to move it too far in any  direction.  "Arm

needs a little more work."

"Yes, Annowiskri tells me you'll need at least one more  session  in  the

bacta tank," Karrde said. "I had you pulled out so that you could accompany me

on a short walk outside the ship. If you're interested, that is."

"Of course I'm interested," Shada said. "Where on Dayark are we?"

"The main spaceport of the capital city Rytal Prime,"  Karrde  said.  "We

put down about two hours ago."

Shada frowned. "And you're just going out now? I thought  we  were  in  a

hurry."

"We are," Karrde said. "But we had to play host first to a small group of

inspectors. They spent over an hour going through the ship with the proverbial

flat-edge sifter. Ostensibly searching for contraband."

"I hope you watched them closely."

"Very closely," Karrde assured her. "At any rate, they've gone  now,  and

Pormfil and Odonnl are making arrangements to get the ship  repaired.  In  the

meantime, the Kathol Republic military commander would like  to  have  a  word

with us."

"About our attackers, no doubt."

"No doubt," Karrde agreed. "Perhaps focusing on how we managed  to  fight

them off with so little damage."

Shada lifted her eyebrows. " 'So little damage' being a relative term, of

course."

Karrde grimaced. "I'm sorry about what happened, Shada?"

"Forget it," Shada cut him off. Apologies always made her  uncomfortable,

even when they were sincere. Especially when they were  sincere.  "It  was  my

idea, remember. So what's the plan?"

"I'm supposed to meet with a General Jutka at a tapcafe just outside  the

spaceport," Karrde told her. "They mostly speak  Basic  here,  but  there's  a

fair-sized contingent of Ithorian colonists,  too,  so  I  thought  we'd  take

Threepio along in case we run into translation problems."

"Odd place for an official meeting," Shada commented. "Sounds  like  they

don't know whether they want to be associated with us or not."

"I would say that reading is dead on target," Karrde agreed,  eyeing  her

thoughtfully. "Your grasp of politics is quite good, especially for  a  simple

bodyguard."

"I've never claimed to be simple," Shada  countered,  swinging  her  legs

over the side of the medic bed. "Give me five minutes to get changed and we'll

go see this general."

* * *

Ten minutes later the three of them were walking down the bustling street

that bordered the spaceport, Karrde and Shada walking side by  side  with  the

gold-colored protocol  droid  shuffling  along  nervously  behind  them.  "The

natives seem curious," Shada commented in a quiet voice.

Karrde nodded. He'd already noticed  the  surreptitious  glances  of  the

Ithorian passersby and the out-and-out stares of some of the human ones. "Mara

reported they were a wary but not particularly unfriendly people."

"Nice to know," Shada said. "Of course, that report is six years old now.

Interesting outfits they're wearing?those shimmery  coats  with  all  the

random tufts of fur still on them?"

"It's crosh-hide," Karrde identified it. "Native animal  to  one  of  the

worlds in the Kathol Republic. Comfortable and durable, and those bits of  fur

can be left on either randomly or in any of a variety of patterns.  Mara  told

me crosh-hide coats were just coming into style when she and  Calrissian  were

here; I see it's bloomed into a full-blown fashion since then."

"Probably because it makes  for  instant  identification  of  strangers,"

Shada said, catching hold of a pinch of her shipboard jumpsuit material.  "Not

much chance of us blending into any crowd with these on."

"Definitely a grain of truth in that," Karrde agreed. "This part  of  the

galaxy has been largely left alone by outsiders, but  they  had  some  clashes

with the Empire and there have been a few attempts  by  the  New  Republic  to

bring it into line with current political thought."

"A goal the natives aren't interested in?"

"Not really," Karrde said, looking around at the faded  commercial  signs

flapping restlessly in the breeze. A few of them were in Basic, but most  were

laid out with  Ithorian  glyptographs  or  a  flow-and-dot  script  he  didn't

recognize at all.

"Threepio, we're looking for a place called the Ithor  Loman,"  he  said,

motioning the droid to his side. "Do you see it anywhere?"

"Yes, Captain Karrde, it's right over there," Threepio said,  lifting  an

arm to point at a blue sign labeled in Ithorian.

"Reminds me of Bombaasa's place on Pembric," Shada  growled.  "You  know,

Karrde, you might want to consider occasionally adding a few  more  people  to

these probe parties of yours."

"You wouldn't consider that a slight on your combat skills?"

"I think I've adequately proved my combat skills," Shada countered.  "The

point is that if you field enough people you can sometimes keep a  fight  from

starting in the first place."

Karrde nodded, suppressing a smile. "I'll remember that. After you."

Considering the early morning hour, the  tapcafe  seemed  unusually  well

populated, with both Ithorian and human locals  in  their  crosh-hide  jackets

plus one or two obvious offworlders  like  themselves.  "Any  idea  which  one

General Jutka is?" Shada murmured.

"I presume he'll be watching for us," Karrde said. "If not?"

He broke off as a short, slender man with short hair and a dapper  crosh-

hide jacket rose from a nearby table and stepped up to them. "Ah?visitors," he

said cheerfully, his eyes sparkling with interest or bubbling good humor as he

looked each of them up and down. "You must be the parties here to see  General

Jutka."

"Yes, we are," Karrde said. "And you?"

"Entoo Needaan E-elz, at your service," he  said,  giving  a  short  bow.

"Call me Entoo Nee."

"Interesting name," Karrde said, eyeing  him.  "That  Entoo  part  sounds

rather like a droid designation."

"Oddly enough, people do sometimes mistake me for  a  droid,"  Entoo  Nee

said, his eyes sparkling all the more. "I can't imagine why. If you'll  follow

me, I'll show you to the general's table."

He bounded off between the tables without waiting for an answer, his step

as lively as his speech had been. "Curious little man," Threepio commented  as

they followed. "He does appear harmless, however."

"Never trust appearances," Shada warned him. "Personally, I  don't  think

he fits in with this place at all."

"We'll keep an eye on him," Karrde told her. "That must be Jutka."

Entoo Nee had stopped beside a table in the back where a single, heavyset

man was seated with his back to the wall, nursing a single drink. Wearing  the

by now familiar crosh-hide jacket, he nevertheless  seemed  to  Karrde  to  be

vaguely uncomfortable in it.

"That's a military man, all right,"  Shada  said,  echoing  Karrde's  own

thought as Entoo Nee spoke briefly to  the  other.  "You  can  tell  he  feels

awkward being out of uniform."

Entoo Nee stepped aside as the others came up, gesturing brightly to  the

bulky man. "General Jutka, may I present  our  visitors,"  he  said,  suddenly

looking a bit crestfallen. "I'm sorry?I didn't get your names."

"We didn't give them," Karrde said. "You can call me Captain. This is  my

friend Shada and my translation droid, See-Threepio."

The general muttered something in an unfamiliar  language.  "He  says  he

wasn't expecting a full theatrical parade," Threepio translated helpfully. "In

fact?"

"Enough!" Jutka spat. "Keep your droid shut up or I'll shut  him  up  for

you."

"Oh, my," Threepio gasped, taking a hasty step backward.  "My  apologies,

General Jutka?"

"I said keep him shut up," Jutka cut him off. "I don't want  to  have  to

say that again. Now sit down."

"Certainly," Karrde said, sliding into a chair at the general's side  and

glancing back at Threepio. Entoo Nee had stepped to the droid's side  and  was

talking soothingly to him in a low voice. "My mistake, General.  I  thought  I

was here for a conversation, not a series of threats."

"I apologize if you got that  impression,"  Jutka  said  darkly,  looking

balefully up at Shada. She had ignored his  invitation  to  sit  down,  moving

instead around the other side  of  the  table  so  that  she  was  effectively

standing over him, and for a moment Karrde thought he was  going  to  issue  a

flat-out order for her to sit. He apparently thought better of it  and  turned

his glare back to Karrde. "The fact is that you're a troublemaker,"  he  said.

"Troublemakers aren't welcome on my world."

"I see," Karrde said. "So in the  Kathol  Republic  coming  under  pirate

attack is the mark of a troublemaker?"

Jutka's eyes narrowed. "Don't push me," he warned.  "I  know  who  you're

flying for?your ship's ID makes that perfectly clear. The last thing I want is

to end up in the middle of some stupid war between Bombaasa and Rei'Kas."

"Rei'Kas?" Shada repeated, her tone that of someone  who's  just  made  a

connection.

"The Rodian?"

"Yes," Jutka said, frowning up at her. "You mean you didn't??"

"No, we didn't know who our friends were out  there,"  Karrde  confirmed.

"Many thanks. You know this Rei'Kas, Shada?"

"Only by reputation," Shada told him. "He used to be a strike team leader

with the Karazak Slavers Cooperative. Quite a good  one,  apparently.  He  was

also rough, violent, and vicious, and he  irritated  practically  everyone  he

worked with."

Karrde nodded, feeling his mouth go a little dry. A vicious  slaver,  now

in Car'das's territory. How many other criminals, he wondered, had  also  just

happened to drift to this corner of the galaxy? "Interesting."

"Also interesting that the general  knew  his  name  when  even  Bombaasa

didn't," Shada added. "You good friends with him, General?"

"My job is to protect the Kathol Republic," Jutka said, his tone  vibrant

with soft menace. "I have no such responsibility toward outsiders who come  in

unasked and meddle with matters that are none of their business."

Out of the corner of his eye, Karrde saw Shada's head  turn  fractionally

as she gave the main part of the tapcafe a quick survey. "Are you  threatening

me, General?" he asked mildly.

"I'm delivering a warning," Jutka said bluntly. "You've hurt Rei'Kas, and

he doesn't take kindly to that. He's got your ship  marked,  and  as  long  as

you're in his territory he's going to keep after you."

"We have every intention of leaving his territory," Karrde  assured  him.

"After my errand is finished, of course."

"Do as you wish," Jutka said, grunting as he heaved his bulk out  of  his

chair. "But I've given you fair warning. Don't forget that."

"I won't," Karrde said. "Thank you for your time."

Jutka scowled once and marched across the tapcafe. Pushing open the door,

he strode out without a backward glance.

"And this is where Car'das picked to retire to, huh?" Shada said, sitting

down in the chair Jutka had just vacated. "Lovely."

"Keep your voice down," Karrde admonished, looking around the tapcafe. No

one seemed to be taking any particular interest in this corner  of  the  room,

but appearances meant nothing. "And I doubt retirement was ever in his plans."

Shada sent him a probing look. "You think Rei'Kas is working for him?"

Karrde nodded soberly. "I would say that's entirely possible."

He caught her eye movement and looked up as Entoo Nee pulled up  a  chair

to their table and sat down. "Did you have a nice chat with the  general?"  he

asked brightly. "That's good. That's very good."

He hunched himself closer to the table.  "I've  been  talking  with  your

droid," he said, dropping his voice conspiratorially. "He says you're  looking

for the fabled lost world of Exocron."

Karrde looked at Threepio. "Threepio?"

"I'm sorry, sir," the droid said, sounding miserable. "I didn't  mean  to

give anything away. He asked if we were searching for Exocron, and I confirmed

it without thinking."

"Please don't blame the droid,"  Entoo  Nee  said.  "Your  goal  isn't  a

secret. At least, not to me. You're looking for Jorj Car'das, aren't you?"

Shada shot Karrde a look across the table. "Threepio, why  don't  you  go

over to the bar and get us a couple glasses of the local brew," she suggested.

"On your way, listen and see if you hear anyone talking in Rodian."

"Yes, Mistress Shada," the droid said, sounding relieved at the chance to

get away. "Right away."

He shuffled off. "Very clever," Entoo Nee said, grinning at  Shada.  "You

think any spotters Rei'Kas may have planted in the crowd will talk  Rodian  to

each other, eh? Very clever, indeed."

"Thank you," Shada said, fixing him with a look that was just short of  a

glare.

"You were telling us about Jorj Car'das."

"Yes." Entoo Nee shuffled himself even closer to the table. "You're right

to look for him on Exocron. That's where he is." He lifted a finger warningly.

"But Exocron isn't easy to find. Most people in the Kathol Republic have never

even heard of it. Most of those who have believe it to be a myth."

"So I've heard," Karrde said, fighting against a sudden sense  of  dread.

How could Entoo Nee know why he was here? Unless, of course,  he  was  working

for Car'das?

"Tell me why it's so hard to find."

Entoo Nee smiled even more broadly. "You don't need me to tell you  that.

Ah, but perhaps your friend doesn't know," he  added,  shifting  his  grin  to

Shada. "It's all the mini-nebulae and gas offshoots, you see, coming  off  the

Kathol Rift. All of that reflected light and radiation scrambles  sensors  and

communications?makes it terribly difficult to find anything at all.  Searching

the whole region could take you decades."

"And you can save us all that trouble, I suppose?" Shada asked.

"I can indeed," he said. "I can take you to  Exocron.  Right  to  Car'das

himself, if you like."

He looked back at Karrde. "But only if Captain Karrde wishes."

With a strong effort, Karrde kept his expression steady.  So  the  little

man knew his name, too. "And what would this guidance cost us?"

"No cost," Entoo Nee said. "But no 'us,' either. It would just be you and

me."

"Excuse me?" Shada said, lifting a finger. "Just you and him? What  about

the rest of us?"

"You'd have to wait for us here," Entoo Nee told her. "No other way,  I'm

afraid?my ship can only carry two people."

"How about if you ride with us and guide our ship in?" Karrde asked.

"Oh, no," Entoo Nee said, looking shocked. "I couldn't possibly do that."

"Why not?" Shada demanded. "Because Car'das doesn't want to  see  all  of

us?"

Entoo Nee blinked. "Did I ever say Car'das wanted to see any  of  you?  I

said no such thing."

Which wasn't the same as saying Car'das hadn't  asked  him  to  make  the

offer. "If I accept," Karrde said slowly, "when would we need to leave?"

"Wait a second," Shada put in before Entoo Nee could answer. "What do you

mean, if you accept? You don't want to go off alone with him."

Karrde grimaced. No, he most certainly didn't. But at some point  he  was

going to have to face Car'das. And if this was the best  way  to  protect  his

people while he did that...

"Let me put it another way," Shada said, glaring at Entoo Nee.  "I'm  his

bodyguard, and I'm not letting him go off alone. Not with you or anyone else.

Clear?"

Entoo Nee held out his hands, palm upward. "But?"

He broke off as Threepio reappeared and set two heavy mugs of dark liquid

onto the table. "Thank the Maker," he said  breathlessly.  "The  clientele  of

this place are most unpleasant?"

"Never mind the local color," Shada  cut  him  off.  "Did  you  hear  any

Rodian?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," the droid said, half turning  and  pointing

toward one of the tables across near the  bar.  "Three  human  males  at  that

table?yes; the ones now standing up?"

"Uh-oh," Shada muttered, darting a glance at Entoo Nee. "Come on?time  to

get out of here."

"Don't bother," a softly vicious voice said from behind Karrde.

Slowly, he turned around. Two tables away, three men were sitting  facing

them.

And all three had their blasters drawn.

CHAPTER

14

"Oh, my," Threepio gasped, just audibly. "We're doomed."

Karrde looked back around. Behind Shada, the  three  thugs  Threepio  had

just identified were striding between the tables toward them, blasters now  in

their hands as well. Across the rest of the tapcafe, the casual  drinkers  and

loungers were either staring in surprise or morbid anticipation or else trying

to beat a surreptitious retreat before the shooting  started.  "I  suppose  it

would be a waste of breath to say you have the wrong people," he said, turning

back to face the men behind him.

"No, go right ahead," the thugs'  spokesman  said  sarcastically  as  the

three of them got to their  feet  and  fanned  out  slightly  to  cover  their

targets. "I always enjoy a good laugh in the  morning.  Hands  on  the  table,

please. So?did I catch the name right? Talon Karrde?"

"Yes, indeed," Entoo Nee spoke up brightly before  Karrde  could  answer.

"And this is Shada, and their protocol droid See-Threepio."

The spokesman impaled the little man with a glare. "You with them?"

Entoo Nee's eyes widened innocently. "Me? Not really, sir?"

"Then get out of here."

Entoo Nee blinked, threw a quick look around at  Shada  and  Karrde,  and

scrambled up from his seat. "Do let me know, Captain  Karrde,  if  you  change

your mind," he said.

He shot a quick smile at Karrde, another at the spokesman,  then  bounced

his way toward the door. The spokesman watched him go, frowning;  and  as  the

little man pulled open the door, he turned back to face Karrde.  "Change  your

mind about what?" he demanded as the thud of the closing  door  echoed  across

the tapcafe.

"He'd just made me an interesting offer," Karrde said, lifting  his  arms

with conspicuous slowness and folding them across his chest. The thugs,  their

full attention on him and Shada, had completely missed the fact  that  someone

had come into the tapcafe at the same moment  Entoo  Nee  left.  If  he  could

manage to keep all of their attention on him for just a few more seconds...

And then someone across the room swore in astonishment. One of the  thugs

glanced around?"Shri?Xern!" he barked.

The spokesman spun around... and froze,  his  mouth  dropping  open  with

shock.

Silently, determinedly, H'sishi was striding toward them.

It took Xern another second to find his voice. "What in the name  of  the

Rift is that?" he breathed.

"She's a Togorian," Karrde supplied, throwing a surreptitious  glance  at

Shada.

Her eyes were darting back and forth  between  the  suddenly  inattentive

thugs, clearly measuring distances and assessing possibilities. That could  be

trouble.

"Oh, and she's with me," he added.

H'sishi was still coming toward the semicircle of thugs, her  mouth  open

far enough to show her fangs. "Tell it  to  stop,"  Xern  snapped,  his  voice

hitting a higher pitch as his blaster jerked around to point at the  Togorian.

"You hear me?

Tell it to stop or we'll shoot."

"I wouldn't advise shooting a Togorian," Karrde  admonished  him  mildly.

"It only makes them angry."

Xern shot a look of disbelief toward him?

And in that instant Shada moved.

Her left hand, resting casually near her mug, snatched it up and  with  a

quick flick of her forearm she hurled the contents across the  table  squarely

into Xern's face. He bellowed, throwing up his forearm, too late,  to  try  to

block the wave of liquid. A convulsive jerk the other direction, and Shada had

hurled the mug itself with crushing force into the throat of one of the  other

thugs. She started to leap up, yelping under her breath as Karrde grabbed  her

arm and held her firmly in her seat. There was the sputter of blaster fire and

the sounds of bodies hitting the floor?

"Lower your weapon, Xern," Karrde said quietly. Even to his own ears  his

voice seemed a startling intrusion into the sudden taut  silence  filling  the

tapcafe. "Very slowly; very carefully."

Xern gave his eyes one last swipe with his sleeve and blinked them open..

. and for the second time in half a minute he appeared to be struck speechless

as he stared at the scene around him in stunned disbelief. Disbelief at Karrde

and Shada sitting unhurt at the table; disbelief at the crumpled bodies of his

men lying around him on the floor, wisps of  noxious  smoke  rising  from  the

blaster wounds riddling their bodies.

And disbelief at the four crosh-hide-clad men at various tables scattered

around the tapcafe pointing blasters at him.

"Your blaster, Xern," Karrde prompted again  as  the  thug  continued  to

gape, drops of  Shada's  drink  dripping  rhythmically  off  his  chin.  Shada

stirred; but before she could move H'sishi had  stepped  to  Xern's  side  and

engulfed the barrel of his blaster in one massive hand. He started, almost  as

if seeing the Togorian for the first time, as she twisted the weapon to  point

harmlessly at the ceiling.

She raised her other hand and dug a claw delicately into the back of  his

wrist, and this time he finally let go.

"Well done, everyone," Karrde  said,  getting  to  his  feet  as  H'sishi

stepped back, the blaster now reversed ready in her hand. "Dankin?"

"Here," the familiar voice came from a distinctly unfamiliar face as  the

other stood up at his table.

"Go give the bartender something to  compensate  for  the  mess,"  Karrde

instructed him. "It's somewhat traditional in these cases," he added  to  Xern

as Dankin crossed toward the bar, digging into his pocket. "Griv, stand by the

door; Chal, Balig, go frontguard the way back to the ship."

"Right."

The other three headed for the door. "You're cute," Xern spat  viciously.

"Real cute. But if you think this is gonna get you out  from  under  Rei'Kas's

hammer, you're crazy."

"If I were you, I'd worry more about what Rei'Kas  will  do  to  you  for

losing your mob this way," Karrde countered. "I'd also worry about getting out

of here before H'sishi decides you're too dangerous to leave alive."

"Oh, I'll leave," Xern said darkly. "But you'll  see  me  again,  Karrde.

Just before you die." With one final glare, he turned and stomped out  of  the

tapcafe.

"Well," Karrde said, turning back to Shada and holding out a hand to her.

She didn't move. "So you had backups  in  place  all  along,"  she  said,

looking up at him.

There was something distinctly discomfiting in her  voice  and  face.  "I

thought you said you wouldn't take that as an  insult,"  Karrde  reminded  her

carefully.

"They're in disguise," she said.

Slowly, Karrde lowered his hand to his side. "They were all seen  by  the

local inspectors who searched the ship  earlier,"  he  explained.  "I  had  to

assume some of the group were spies for the pirates,  and  would  be  able  to

recognize them."

"And the crosh-hide outfits?"

"Mara brought them back from her trip here,"  Karrde  said,  starting  to

feel sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Shada rose to her feet. "And you didn't think," she said quietly, "that I

could be trusted with it."

For a second Karrde couldn't find his voice. The deep ache that had  been

in Shada's voice was so completely unexpected. "No, that's not it,"  he  said.

"I didn't?"

But it was too late. She had already turned her  back  on  him,  and  was

striding toward the door where Griv stood guard.  "Are  the  repairs  finished

yet?" she asked.

Griv shot a quick look over her shoulder at Karrde.  "Close  enough,"  he

said cautiously.

"Good," she said, stepping past him and pulling  the  door  open.  "Looks

clear," she announced. "Let's get back to the ship."

Griv looked questioningly at Karrde again. "Yes,"  he  murmured,  heading

toward the door.

The walk back to the Wild Karrde was very quiet.

* * *

Shada had stripped off her jumpsuit and had just  gotten  into  her  robe

when the cabin door call chimed. "Who is it?" she called.

"It's Karrde," the other's voice came distantly through the panel. "May I

come in?"

Shada sighed, wrapping her robe securely  around  her  and  knotting  the

waist sash.

She had no particular desire to see him, especially right  now.  But  she

had committed herself to this trip, and  she  couldn't  very  well  avoid  the

captain and still fulfill that commitment.

Besides, the pain  of  his  casual  betrayal  of  her  trust  had  mostly

subsided.

Enough, anyway. "Come in," she called, tapping the release.

The door slid open, and Karrde stepped inside. "We've just made the  jump

to lightspeed," he told her, taking in her state of dress and dismissing it in

a single glance. "Odonnl estimates seven days to Exocron."

"Good," Shada said briskly. "I should be back to full  combat  capability

by then.

Speaking of which, if you'll excuse me, I'm on my way to the bacta tank."

"The bacta can wait," Karrde said politely but firmly, gesturing her to a

chair.

"I'd like to talk to you."

She thought about refusing. But she was still committed  to  him  and  to

this trip.

"About what?"  she  said,  sitting  down,  wondering  if  he  was  really

insensitive enough to try concocting some feeble  excuse  about  that  tapcafe

thing at this late date.

But he surprised her. "Jorj Car'das, of course," he said, pulling another

chair over to face her and sitting down. "It's time you heard the whole story.

"

"Really," she said, keeping her voice neutral. He'd only promised to tell

her this story on the way into the Exocron system; which,  according  to  him,

was still a week away. Was this his way of  trying  to  make  amends  for  his

earlier thoughtlessness?

Not that it mattered. Too little, too late; but at least she'd  get  some

useful information out of it. "Go on," she said.

His gaze drifted outward, as if to a time or place far away.  "The  story

of Jorj Car'das goes back about sixty years," he said. "To the Clone Wars  era

and the chaos that it brought on the  galaxy.  There  was  a  great  need  for

smuggling during the  conflict  and  afterward,  of  necessities  as  well  as

contraband, and a large  number  of  organizations  were  hastily  and  rather

haphazardly thrown together."

"That was when the Hutts really  hit  their  stride,  wasn't  it?"  Shada

asked, interest stirring in spite of herself. There was very little  she  knew

about that period, and she'd always wanted to know more.

"Many of them did, yes," Karrde said.  "Car'das  was  one  of  those  who

jumped into the business, and whether through skill or simple blind luck wound

up with one of the better organizations. Not  one  of  the  larger  ones,  but

definitely one of the better ones.

"They'd been operating for about fifteen years when he  was  accidentally

caught up in the middle of a big battle between some Bpfasshi Dark  Jedi  and?

well, basically everyone else in that sector.  According  to  Car'das's  later

story, one of the Dark Jedi commandeered his private ship and forced  them  to

take off."

Shada shivered. That one she did know something about; a group of Mistryl

had been involved on the defensive side of that conflict. Some of the  stories

she'd heard as a child from the  survivors  had  given  her  nightmares.  "I'm

surprised he came back able to tell any stories at all," she said.

"So was everyone else," Karrde said. "The other four members of his  crew

never did return, in fact. But Car'das did. He suddenly reappeared two  months

later, settled back into control of his organization, and to  all  appearances

life went back to normal."

"But the appearances were wrong?"

"Very wrong," Karrde agreed soberly. "It  was  quickly  apparent  to  his

inner circle that something serious had  happened  to  him  during  those  two

months. He still had one of the best smuggling groups around, but suddenly  he

began pushing to  make  it  one  of  the  biggest,  as  well.  He  would  move

systematically into the territories of smaller groups  and  either  buy  them,

absorb them, or destroy them, taking over their routes and  clientele.  Unlike

the Hutts  and  other  groups,  he  went  for  overall  coverage  rather  than

concentrated brute-force control, spreading himself thinly out all over rather

than trying to dominate any specific systems or sectors. In a  few  years,  he

was already on his way to having  something  that  could  someday  rival  even

Jabba's organization."

"Didn't anyone try to stop him?" Shada asked.  "I  can't  see  the  Hutts

sitting by and letting him outflank them that way."

"My dear Shada, everyone tried to stop him," Karrde said darkly. "But  he

was almost literally unstoppable. Somewhere, somehow, he had developed a knack

for guessing precisely what his opponents were planning against  him,  and  he

was often able to counter their attacks  almost  literally  before  they  were

launched."

Shada thought back to the dozens  of  missions  she'd  gone  on  for  the

Mistryl, and the hours of painstaking research she'd had to put into  learning

her opponents' strengths and weaknesses, weapons and  strategies,  allies  and

opponents. "A handy talent," she murmured.

"Extremely handy," Karrde agreed. "But even  as  his  organization  grew,

Car'das himself began to change.  He  became?I  don't  know.  Moody,  perhaps,

inclined to flashes of screaming rage over little things that  shouldn't  have

bothered him at all, or brooding alone for hours on end  over  charts  of  the

Empire. More significantly, perhaps, after years of vigorous youth, he  seemed

to be aging rapidly. Much faster than one would have thought normal or likely.

"And then, one day, he  got  into  his  private  ship,  took  off...  and

vanished."

Shada frowned. "Vanished. You mean... vanished?"

"I mean disappeared from the known galaxy," Karrde said.  "He  didn't  go

near any of his people; didn't contact any of his chief lieutenants; and if he

was ever seen again by any of his enemies, they never announced the fact."

"When was this?" Shada asked.

"Twenty years ago," Karrde said. "At first there wasn't too much concern?

he'd gone off on occasional secret trips before. But after  three  months  had

gone by and he still hadn't surfaced, his lieutenants began to talk about what

they should do if he didn't come back."

"Let me guess," Shada said. "They wanted to hold a vote and see which  of

them would take over."

"I don't think voting was the procedure any of them had in mind,"  Karrde

said ruefully. "In fact,  the  threat  of  violence  was  so  thick  that  the

suggestion was made that we simply split up the organization and each  take  a

chunk."

"The trick being how you divide it  to  everyone's  satisfaction,"  Shada

said, noting the telltale word with interest. It was the  first  time  in  his

recitation that Karrde had used the word "we." "So you wound up with  a  power

struggle anyway."

Karrde's lips pressed briefly together. "Not exactly. I  saw  what  would

happen in that kind of struggle, and I wasn't totally convinced  that  Car'das

wouldn't be coming back. So I... took over."

Shada lifted her eyebrows slightly. "Just like that?"

He shrugged uncomfortably. "More or less. It took planning and timing, of

course, and a fair amount of luck, though I don't think I realized  quite  how

much until I looked back on it from a  distance  of  a  few  years.  But  yes,

basically, just like that. I neutralized the other lieutenants and moved  them

out, and announced to the rest of the organization that it was  henceforth  to

be business as usual."

"I bet that made you very popular," Shada said. "But I seem to be missing

the problem here, at least as far as Car'das is concerned. He left  and  never

came back, right?"

"The problem," Karrde said heavily, "is that I'm not sure he didn't."

Shada felt her eyes narrow. "Oh?"

"I took over the organization in a single night," Karrde said. "But  that

doesn't mean there weren't attempts by the ousted lieutenants and their cadres

afterward to drive me out and take over themselves. There were eight different

attempts, in fact, ranging  from  two  immediate  and  abortive  tries  to  an

intricate scheme three years later that had probably  taken  the  conspirators

that entire time to plan."

"All of which failed, obviously."

Karrde nodded. "The point is that the leaders  of  four  of  those  plots

claimed during their interrogations that  Car'das  had  been  secretly  behind

them."

Shada snorted under  her  breath.  "Smokecovers,"  she  said  scornfully,

dismissing them with a wave of her hand.  "Just  trying  to  rattle  you  into

cutting a deal."

"That was my conclusion at the time," Karrde said. "But of  course  there

was no way for me to be sure. Still isn't, for that matter."

"I suppose not." Shada studied his face. "So what happened six years  ago

that made you send Jade and Calrissian out here to look for him?"

"It started further  back  than  that,"  Karrde  said.  "Ten  years  ago,

actually, just after Grand Admiral Thrawn died." His lip twitched. "Or perhaps

merely faked his death. I was  on  Coruscant  helping  set  up  the  Smugglers

Alliance and Calrissian happened to show me something Luke Skywalker had found

buried on a planet called Dagobah."

Shada searched her memory. "I don't think I've ever heard of the place."

"No reason why you should have," Karrde said. "There's absolutely nothing

there?no cities, no technology, no colonies. What Skywalker  wanted  with  the

swamps I don't know, but it was obvious that stray electronic devices were out

of place, which is probably why he brought it back.  At  any  rate,  from  the

markings I recognized it as the beckon call from Car'das's personal ship."

"Really," Shada said, frowning. A beckon call was the control for a fully

slave-rigged ship, one that could operate on complete remote control  whenever

its  owner  signaled  for  it.  The  Mistryl  never  used  full-rigged   ships

themselves, but she'd occasionally ridden on one with a client. Overall,  they

gave her the creeps. "Car'das had a full-rigged ship, did he?"

"Of pre-Clone Wars vintage, yes," Karrde said. "He bought it  soon  after

he returned from that bout with the Dark Jedi. Said he wanted a decently sized

ship that he could fly alone, without the need for a crew."

"And Skywalker just happened to find his beckon call lying in the mud  on

some deserted planet. How convenient."

"That was my thought, too," Karrde said. "But I checked  with  Skywalker,

and the discovery seemed entirely fortuitous."

"Though whether that  word  can  be  applied  to  Jedi  has  always  been

arguable," Shada put in.

"True," Karrde conceded. "Still, it was the first  clue  we'd  had  in  a

decade; and even if it was some kind of plant, I thought it was worth the risk

of seeing where it led."

"So you sent  Jade  to  hunt  him  down,"  Shada  said,  remembering  the

conversation she'd overheard back in the Solos' Orowood Tower apartment.  "And

Calrissian insisted on tagging along."

"Basically," Karrde said. "They started at Dagobah and worked  their  way

outward, searching through old spaceport  records  for  where  he  might  have

stopped off for repairs or refueling. They also dug up hints  about  him  here

and  there?some  from  the  Coruscant  library,  some  from   various   fringe

characters, some from Corellian Security, of all  places?and  started  putting

the pieces together."

"Talk about your lifetime jobs," Shada murmured.

"It wasn't quite that bad, but it did definitely take some years," Karrde

said.

"Especially as they both kept getting dragged off on  other  business  or

pulled in to help fix whatever Coruscant's crisis of the month was. Still, the

trail was already so cold that a month or two here or there didn't  make  much

of a difference. They kept at it until they wound  up  in  Kathol  sector  and

Exocron.

"And there, as far as we can tell, the trail ends."

For a moment the room was silent as Shada digested it  all.  "I  take  it

they never actually saw Car'das himself?"

With a visible effort, Karrde seemed to draw himself back  from  whatever

ghosts of the past he was gazing at. "They had explicit instructions not  to,"

he said.

"They were to find out where he was?and with a world as  well  hidden  as

Exocron they also needed to find a route into the place?and then they were  to

come home.

I would take it from there."

"And this was how long ago?"

Karrde shrugged uncomfortably. "A few years."

"So what happened?"

"To be honest, I lost my nerve," he admitted. "After  what  I'd  done,  I

wasn't at all sure how I was going to face him. Had no idea what I  was  going

to say, how I was going to even try to make amends. So I kept finding  excuses

to put it off."

He took a deep breath. "And now it looks like I'm too late."

Shada grimaced. "You think Rei'Kas is working for him."

"Rei'Kas, possibly Bombaasa, probably a dozen  others  we  haven't  heard

about," Karrde said heavily. "But he's definitely on the move. Only this  time

he seems to be concentrating on piracy and slaving instead  of  smuggling  and

information brokering. The more violent edge of the fringe... and I  can  only

see one reason why he would do that.

"To come after me. Personally."

For a moment the word seemed to hang in the air like  a  death  mark.  "I

don't think that necessarily follows," Shada said into the silence,  moved  by

some obscure desire to argue the point. "Why can't he just be  building  up  a

force to carve himself a little  empire  here  in  the  backwater?  Take  over

Exocron, maybe, or even this little so-called Kathol Republic?"

"He's been here for nearly two decades, Shada," Karrde reminded her.  "If

he was into empire-carving, don't you think he would have done it before now?"

"If he was into taking you out, don't you think he would have  done  that

before now, too?" Shada countered.

"He may have already tried."

"And then, what, given up after the first three years?"

Karrde shook his  head.  "It  doesn't  make  sense  to  me,  either,"  he

conceded. "But I knew Car'das; and he wasn't the sort of person who could just

sit around doing nothing. He was a ruthless man,  hard  and  calculating,  who

never forgave a wrong against him and never let anyone or  anything  stand  in

the way of what he wanted.

And he lived for challenges?the bigger, the better.

"And he knows I'm here, and that I'm looking for him.  That  little  man?

Entoo Nee?is all the proof we need of that."

An involuntary shiver ran through Shada. The Wild Karrde, which had  felt

so safe and secure up till now, suddenly felt small and very vulnerable.  "And

so here we are. Walking straight into his hands."

"You, at least, should have nothing to fear  from  him,"  Karrde  assured

her. "You're not connected  in  any  way  with  me  or  my  organization."  He

hesitated. "As a matter of fact, that's why I agreed to let you come along."

Shada stared at him as understanding suddenly slapped her  like  an  ice-

soaked rag.

"You're expecting him to kill you, aren't you?" she  breathed.  "And  you

think...?"

"You're not associated with me, Shada," Karrde  said  quietly.  "Everyone

else aboard the ship is. I would have  come  alone,  but  I  knew  I  couldn't

survive the trip to Exocron in anything smaller or less well  armed  than  the

Wild Karrde. Car'das is a  vengeful  man;  but  like  Bombaasa,  he  likes  to

consider himself cultured. I hope to talk him out of killing me, of course;  I

hope even more that he won't harm my crew. But if he's adamant on settling old

scores... I hope at least I can persuade him to let you go  back  to  the  New

Republic with a copy of the Caamas Document."

Shada shook her head. "Karrde, this is insane?"

"At any rate, that's the whole story," he cut her off easily, standing up

and swinging his chair back to where it had been. "Oh,  except  for  the  fact

that the huge data library Car'das had built up over the years vanished  along

with him, which is why we think he may have a copy of the Caamas Document. And

now, you do need to get to that bacta tank. I'll see you later."

With a nod, he left. "Karrde, this  is  insane,"  Shada  repeated  again,

quietly, to the empty room.

It was only later, floating in the bacta tank, that the other part of  it

occurred to her. Karrde was hoping, he had said, that Car'das would allow  her

to leave.

But he wasn't guaranteeing it.

CHAPTER

15

Splitter Of Stones said something in that irritating Qom Jha almost-voice

and fluttered to his usual upside-down perch on a stunted stalactite. "Great,"

Luke announced. "We seem to be here."

Mara raised her glow rod beam from the ground in front of her and scanned

the walls of the passageway, hardly daring to believe  the  grueling  four-day

trip was finally over. Cities or starships or even a  quiet  encampment  under

the open sky?those were her milieus  of  choice.  This  business  of  grubbing

around dark, dusty tunnels with grime and dripping  water  and  dank  air  all

around was emphatically not her cup of elba.

But she'd survived it, and she hadn't wanted to kill any of the  Qom  Jha

more than twice a  day,  and  the  astromech  droid  hadn't  caused  too  many

problems, and Skywalker had been unexpectedly congenial company. And now, they

were finally here.

Of course, from now on they would be facing the High Tower, with all  its

unknown dangers. But that was all right. Danger was also one of her milieus of

choice.

One of Luke's, too, come to think of it.

"There it is," Luke said, his own searching glow rod beam settling  on  a

patch of rock along the wall a few meters ahead  down  the  passageway.  "Just

this side of that archway."

"Archway?" Mara repeated, frowning  as  she  turned  her  glow  rod  that

direction.

Surely someone hadn't actually built an archway down here in  the  middle

of nowhere, had they?

No. It looked rather like an archway, certainly, with its  more  or  less

vertical side pillars creating  a  two-meter-wide  bottleneck  in  the  cavern

passageway and its mostly circular upper arch butting up against  the  ceiling

three meters above.

But anything more than a cursory glance showed instantly that  it  was  a

natural formation, created by some trick of erosion or rock intrusion or long-

gone water flow.

"It was a figure of  speech,"  Luke  said,  shifting  his  light  to  the

formation, too.

"Sort of brings to mind that archway in Hyllyard City on  Myrkr,  doesn't

it?"

"You mean the big mushroom-shaped thing you did your best to drop on us?"

she countered. "The one we had to grind our way through three days'  worth  of

forest to get to? The one where half the  stormtroopers  in  the  Empire  were

sitting around waiting for us to show up?"

"That's the place," he said, and she could sense  his  amusement  at  her

recitation.

"You left out where you wanted to kill me more than anything else in  the

galaxy."

"I was young then," Mara said  briefly,  shifting  her  light  away.  "So

where's this opening?"

"Right there," Luke said, returning his glow  rod  beam  to  a  crumpled-

looking section of wall just below the ceiling. In the center of the light was

a small open area that seemed to vanish into the darkness beyond.

"I see it," Mara said. There didn't seem to be any air  coming  from  it;

there must be some other blockage farther down the line. "Looks cozy."

"Not for long," Luke said, handing her his  glow  rod  and  igniting  his

lightsaber.

"Everyone stay back?this'll probably throw rock chips around."  He  swung

the blade into the wall, slicing into the stone?

And with a sputter of green light, the blade vanished.

Artoo screeched, and Mara caught the flash of astonishment from  Luke  as

he  stumbled  briefly  before  catching  his  balance.  "What  happened?"  she

demanded.

"I don't know,"  he  said,  holding  the  weapon  up  close  and  looking

obliquely into the end. "I thought I had it locked on... let me try it again."

He touched the switch, and with its usual snap-hiss the blade blazed into

existence again. Luke watched it for a moment,  then  settled  into  a  stable

combat stance and again swung the tip of the blade into the rock wall.

And once again, the blade cut only a little ways  into  the  rock  before

sputtering away.

One of the Qom Jha fluttered his wings and said  something.  "Yes,"  Luke

said, and Mara could feel the sudden ugly suspicion in  his  mind  as  distant

memories drifted up.

"Yes what?" she demanded.

"There must be cortosis ore in this rock," he told her. He held his  glow

rod up to the rock face, the light dancing off tiny sparkles.

Mara shook her head. "Never heard of it."

"It's apparently fairly rare," Luke said. "All I really know about it  is

that it shuts down lightsabers. Corran and I ran into  some  Force-users  once

who'd made sets of body armor out of woven cortosis fibers.  It  was  quite  a

surprise."

"I'll bet," Mara said, a memory of her own drifting up. "So  that's  what

the slab of rock was Palpatine had between the double  walls  of  his  private

residence."

Luke lifted an eyebrow. "He had cortosis ore around his residence?"

"And around some of his other offices and throne rooms,  too,  I  think,"

Mara said.

"I never knew the proper name for the stuff. From  what  he  told  me,  I

gather  that  if  your  lightsaber  has  dimetris  circuits  anywhere  in  the

activation loop, hitting the rock starts a feedback crash running through  the

system that takes only a fraction of a second to shut the whole thing down.  A

little something extra to slow down any stray Jedi who might come after him."

"The things you learn as Emperor's Hand," Luke murmured. "Do you know  if

there's any way to cut it?"

"Oh, sure?hundreds of them," Mara assured him, slipping her pack onto the

ground.

"Aside from the lightsaber thing, the stuff's basically useless. It's too

weak and crumbly to build with?a good blaster carbine bolt  will  shatter  it.

Let me see?ah."

She pulled out one of the grenades Karrde had sent and  shined  her  glow

rod on the yield number. "Yes, this ought to work if you want to try it."

One of the Qom Jha put in another comment.  "Keeper  Of  Promises  thinks

grenades would be a bad idea," Luke translated. "He says we're  not  that  far

from the High Tower itself, and that sound carries pretty far underground."

"He's probably right,"  Mara  conceded,  putting  the  grenade  away  and

studying the rock where Luke had been cutting. "On the other hand, you're only

getting a few centimeters at a time this way. Extra noise or extra delay. Your

pick."

Luke ran a hand thoughtfully across the rock, and Mara  could  sense  his

concentration as he stretched out  to  the  Force.  "Let's  try  it  with  the

lightsabers for a while," he suggested slowly. "At least a  couple  of  hours.

That should give us a better estimate of how long it's actually going to take.

"

"Fine," Mara said. "We can always switch to the  grenades  if  we  decide

it's going too slow." She played her glow rod over the rock.  "So  along  with

caverns full of predators, we now have a wall  that  blocks  lightsabers.  How

convenient for someone."

"It could be just coincidence," Luke said. But he didn't  sound  like  he

believed it. "Well, there's nothing for it but to  get  started."  He  frowned

suddenly. "Unless you think this might damage the lightsabers."

Mara shrugged. "I can't see how  it  would,  but  I  really  don't  know.

Hopefully, we'll be able to pick up any trouble before it gets too bad."

"True," Luke agreed, looking down at his astromech  droid.  "Artoo:  full

sensors, and keep an eye on the lightsabers. Let us know if they  seem  to  be

overheating or anything."

The droid beeped acknowledgment and extended his little sensor unit.  "We

probably should start this  as  a  triangle,"  Mara  suggested,  crossing  the

passageway and wedging her glow rod into a crevice where it  would  illuminate

the area beneath the Qom Jha sneak hole. "Carving down at an angle on opposite

sides.

That should keep our blades out of each other's way, and angled cuts  are

usually better at weakening the underlying rock."

"Sounds good." Luke looked  up  at  the  three  Qom  Jha,  grouped  close

together on the ceiling. "Splitter Of Stones, why don't you head back to Eater

Of Fire Creepers. Tell him we're almost ready for the extra scouts he promised

to send into the High Tower with us."

The Qom Jha said something. "No, but we will be soon,"  Luke  said.  "And

you'd better take one of the others with you."

Sitting on a lump of stone beneath the archway, Child  Of  Winds  flapped

his wings and said something that sounded eager. "No, not you," Luke told  the

young Qom Qae firmly. "Keeper Of Promises, you go with him."

There was  a  brief  comment  from  the  Qom  Jha  that  sounded  vaguely

condescending, and then Splitter Of Stones and Keeper Of Promises dropped  off

their perches and flapped off back into the darkness toward the cave entrance.

Child Of Winds fired off a sarcastic-sounding shot as they left, then  settled

huffily back onto his rock. "I'll bet I'm missing some really  witty  repartee

here," Mara said sourly, pulling her lightsaber from her belt  and  taking  up

position to the left of the cut Luke had started.

"Not really," Luke said,  igniting  his  lightsaber  and  moving  to  the

opposite side.

"You ready?"

Mara ignited her lightsaber. "Let's do it."

* * *

They'd been at it for nearly an hour, and had completed the  outline  for

their opening, when Artoo suddenly squealed.

"Hold it, Mara," Luke called, closing down his lightsaber  and  wondering

briefly what was wrong. He'd been concentrating  closely  on  the  weapon  and

hadn't felt even a hint of any problem with it. He glanced over at Artoo?

And paused for a closer look. The droid's sensor unit was  extended,  but

it wasn't aimed  at  the  lightsabers.  It  was,  instead,  pointed  down  the

passageway ahead.

"Mara?" he called, shifting the weapon to his left hand and  pulling  out

his glow rod. He played it down the tunnel as, behind him, Mara shut down  her

lightsaber.

And in the sudden silence, he heard  a  noise.  A  rustling  sound,  like

thousands of distant, throaty voices whispering wordlessly to  each  other.  A

mindless rumbling that was echoed in his mind as he stretched  out  toward  it

with the Force.

And it was getting closer.

"I don't like the sound of that," Mara murmured, stepping to his side.

"Me, neither," Luke said, keying his glow rod to  its  brightest  setting

and sweeping it around again. Nothing was visible,  but  the  way  the  tunnel

twisted and bent in both directions that didn't mean much. He ran through  his

Jedi sense-enhancement techniques...

Fire creepers! Builder With Vines said excitedly from the ceiling  behind

him.

They are coming!

"What?" Mara demanded.

"He said fire creepers are coming," Luke relayed.

"Uh-oh," Mara said. "Their Bargainer's name?'Eater Of Fire Creepers.' "

"Yes," Luke said, looking up at the Qom Jha. His  wings  were  fluttering

with some kind of anticipation. "I've been assuming a fire  creeper  was  some

sort of plant.

Builder With Vines, what are these things?"

They are small but dangerous creatures, the Qom Jha said. They  will  eat

and destroy all things in their path, and can kill anything they find.

"He says small but dangerous," Luke told Mara, sweeping the glow rod down

the tunnel again.

"In which case, that much noise implies there must be one blazing lot  of

them on the way," Mara concluded grimly, looking around. "I get the  very  bad

feeling we're about to meet a new species of roverines."

Luke shivered. He'd seen holovids of those infamous insect  predators  on

their annual march across the Davirien jungles. Roverines traveled  in  swarms

of hundreds of thousands, sometimes even  millions,  literally  stripping  the

landscape of every bit of plant life as they passed over it.

Plant life, and any animals that were too slow or too sick to get out  of

their way, eating such stragglers down to polished bone. "Builder With  Vines,

how fast do they travel?" he called.

"Too fast," Mara snapped before the Qom Jha could answer. "Look?here they

come."

Luke caught his breath. Ahead, just at the farthest  spot  the  glow  rod

beam could reach, the front edge of a pulsating sheet of black  had  appeared,

filling the entire floor and spilling perhaps a meter up the  walls  as  well.

Even as he watched, the edge flowed like some viscous liquid into a slight dip

in the floor, reappearing as it flowed up again over the lip.

And Mara was right. They were coming far too fast.

"I'd say we've got maybe a minute before they get here," Mara  said.  "If

you've got any clever tricks up your sleeve, this is the  time  to  trot  them

out."

Luke bit at his lip, his mind racing. There was a way, he  knew,  to  use

the Force to create a low-level personal shield. But to  maintain  the  shield

long enough, especially against  so  many  individual  adversaries,  would  be

practically impossible. Besides, it was doubtful he  could  also  shield  Mara

that way, and she almost certainly didn't know the  technique  herself.  Using

the Force to move each individual fire creeper out of the way as  they  passed

would be an equally impossible task, even with Mara working alongside of him.

And if these insects were anything like Davirien roverines, it would only

take one of them getting through and sinking a poisoned stinger to shake their

control and alert the rest of the swarm to the presence  of  food.  No,  their

only hope was to stay out of the fire creepers' way entirely. Either somewhere

farther down the tunnel, or else?

"The archway," Mara said suddenly. "We'll need footrests about two meters

up?"

"Right," Luke said, igniting his lightsaber and stepping into the opening

as he measured the distance with his eyes. Yes, it would just work.

Assuming they had enough time to make the necessary preparations. "Artoo,

close down all your openings," he called as he swung the tip of the  brilliant

green blade horizontally into the inner edge of the archway's side pillar half

a meter above his head. If the cortosis ore extended this  far  out  from  the

passageway wall...

Fortunately, it didn't. His lightsaber blade sliced cleanly inward a  few

centimeters into the rock, without a hint of trouble. "Child Of Winds, get  to

that opening up there," he called as he got a Force grip on the lightsaber and

lifted it up to the rock over the cut he'd just made. "Find a place to hang on

and stay there."

What about you, Jedi Sky Walker? the young Qom Qae asked  anxiously,  the

fluttering of his wings nearly drowned out by the hum of the two lightsabers.

How will you protect yourselves?

"You'll see," Luke assured him. He brought the lightsaber blade down at a

not-quite-vertical angle, slicing out a  rough  wedge  of  stone  and  leaving

behind a shallow horizontal ledge in  the  inner  edge  of  the  archway.  The

rustling of the approaching fire creepers was growing steadily louder. "Mara?"

"I'm finished," Mara called over the noise, the blue-white glow reflected

from behind him vanishing as she shut down her lightsaber.  "We've  got  maybe

twenty seconds."

Luke looked down the tunnel as he pulled his lightsaber back to his hand.

The leading edge of  the  swarm  was  barely  five  meters  away,  the  entire

passageway behind them absolutely black with the insects. "I'm ready," he told

her, shutting down the weapon and returning it to his belt. "On three?"

"On three," Mara said.

Luke took half a step backward, and for a moment his back pressed against

Mara's as they each gauged the distances and stretched out in their  own  ways

to the Force. "On three," Luke repeated,  trying  to  ignore  the  sound  that

seemed to fill the entire passageway. Across by one wall,  Artoo  moaned  with

fear. "One, two, three."

He jumped upward toward his footrest, turning his body halfway around  as

he did so and hoping belatedly that the arc  of  his  leap  wouldn't  be  high

enough to crack his head against the curved rock above him. As he came  around

to face the center of the archway he caught sight of Mara, also in midair with

her back to the rock, starting to  come  down  toward  her  own  newly  carved

footrest. Her arms were stretched toward him, palms outward, as  if  she  were

reaching out to push him away. Luke got  his  own  arms  up,  palms  similarly

outward, as their heels came thunking solidly down onto their footrests. Their

palms met, their fingers intertwined?

Mara took a deep breath, exhaling it in a rush  just  audible  above  the

noise of the fire creepers now swarming through the passageway  beneath  their

feet. "I'll be Kesseled," she said. "It worked."

Luke nodded, taking a deep breath of his own. With their feet resting  on

the cutouts they'd made, their arms stretched  rigidly  out  and  their  hands

clasped to brace and support one another, they had in effect become  a  living

archway within the stone one. And as long as they stayed that way, they  would

remain safe above the flow of insects.

But if either of them fell...

"Cozy, isn't it?" Mara commented, looking around.  "Very  symbolic,  too.

The great and powerful Jedi Master forced to rely  on  someone  else  for  his

survival."

"I wish you'd drop that," Luke growled. "I've already admitted I can't do

everything."

"Which isn't quite the same as relying on other people," Mara said.  "But

okay; consider it dropped. Looks like we're just high enough."

Luke looked down. The river of  fire  creepers,  as  he'd  already  seen,

sloshed a fair distance up the walls of the passageway  as  too  many  insects

tried to travel through too small a space. Here  at  the  archway,  where  the

tunnel was still narrower, they roved even higher, with some  of  the  insects

passing barely centimeters beneath their footrests. "You think  they  can  eat

through our boots?" he asked.

"If enough of them climb aboard and start chewing, they can probably  eat

through anything," Mara said. "And all it'll take will be one of them noticing

us to wave whatever chemical flags they use to whistle  up  the  rest  of  the

swarm."

Luke nodded grimly. "So in other words, if any of them look like  they're

getting close, grab them with the Force and get rid of them fast."

"Better still, throw them across the cave into a wall," Mara said.  "What

I'd like to know is what they're doing down  here.  There  can't  possibly  be

enough food in this entire cavern complex for a swarm this size."

"Maybe it's a shortcut from one part of the  surface  to  another,"  Luke

suggested.

"There's that underground river we passed a  ways  back?maybe  they  come

here for the water."

"Could be," Mara said, peering to the side. "I wish we'd had time to move

our packs up off?what in space?"

Luke followed her gaze, just in time to see Builder With Vines swoop down

in a shallow dive over the scurrying fire creepers and  curve  up  again  with

what appeared to be some of the insects in his mouth. "He's eating  them,"  he

said, not quite believing it.

"Of course he is," Mara said. " 'Eater Of Fire Creepers,' remember?"

"But then??" Luke floundered, thoroughly confused now. "Are  they  really

not that dangerous?"

"Of course they're dangerous,"  Mara  snorted.  "You  ever  hear  of  the

topshot in any clan who picked a name that made him sound calm and reasonable?

This has to be the Qom Jha version of kick-the-rancor."

"Kick-the-rancor?"

"A slang term in Palpatine's court," Mara said. "Any stupid  stunt  where

the risks were way out of proportion to the gain."

Luke worked moisture into a suddenly dry mouth as he watched Builder With

Vines finish his snack and swoop down for another pass. Why in the name of the

Force was he taking such a terrible risk?

And it was a terrible risk. Luke could feel the danger involved, his Jedi

senses tingling almost as strongly as if the threat had been aimed directly at

him.

Surely Builder With Vines couldn't be that hungry. Could he?

"Offhand, I'd say he's showing off," Mara muttered, answering his  silent

question.

"For who? Us?"

"Hardly." Mara nodded toward the wall behind Luke. "For the kid."

Luke craned his neck to look. Balanced precariously on a stone  near  the

Qom Jha opening, Child Of Winds was watching in utter fascination  as  Builder

With Vines swooped  over  the  mass  of  insects,  his  wings  quivering  with

excitement or nervousness or envy. "Uh-oh," Luke said. "You don't think??"

"I would hope he's not that stupid," Mara said. "But  the  Qom  Jha  have

been riding him ever since we headed out on this little trip. He just might."

Luke grimaced. "Child Of Winds, you stay  where  you  are,"  he  ordered,

putting Jedi firmness into his voice. "You're not to try to  do  what  Builder

With Vines is?"

And suddenly, a terrified shriek screamed through his mind.  "What??"  he

gasped, his body twitching violently with the shock of the sound.

"It's Builder With Vines," Mara bit out, her  fingers  tightening  around

Luke's to help maintain their balance. Luke looked down?

To a horrifying sight. Builder With Vines, his wings flapping frantically

but uselessly, was struggling  half-submerged  in  the  living  river  flowing

through the passageway. Dozens of fire creepers were already  crawling  across

his head and wings, biting and stinging. Even as Child  of  Winds's  terrified

cry joined Builder With Vines's scream in Luke's mind a hundred  more  of  the

insects crawled onto the Qom  Jha,  their  weight  forcing  him  still  deeper

beneath the flow.

There was no time to waste. Stretching out with the  Force,  Luke  hauled

Builder With Vines up and out of the flow, holding him suspended in midair. He

shifted his focus to the insects, grabbing them through the Force and throwing

them off him.

"Don't bother," Mara said quietly. "There's nothing you can do."

Luke bit back the reflexive impulse to deny it. He was a  Jedi?there  had

to be something he could do.

But no. She was right... and as Builder With Vines's mental  scream  died

into the silence of death he let the body sink gently back into  the  mindless

flow.

"Easy on the fingers," Mara said softly.

With an effort, Luke turned his gaze  back  to  her,  focusing  on  their

joined hands.

His fingers were all but white where he was  squeezing  hers  tightly  in

frustration. "Sorry," he muttered, forcing himself to relax his grip.

"That's all right," she said. "You know, you've got a  pretty  good  grip

there. I thought you Jedi usually concentrated more on the mental  aspects  of

the Force than you did in keeping in shape."

She was trying to deflect his attention, he  knew,  trying  to  turn  his

thoughts away from the horror he'd just witnessed. Sympathy from  Mara  was  a

new experience all by itself; but neither words nor sympathy  had  a  puddle's

chance of smoothing over the guilt and anger  rising  in  his  throat  like  a

twisting sand-devil.

"It's not all right," he snapped back at her. "I knew it was  dangerous?I

could have stopped him. I should have stopped him."

"How?" Mara countered. "I mean, sure, you could have used  the  Force  to

pin him to the ceiling. But what right would you have had to do something like

that?"

"What do you mean, what right?" Luke bit out. "I was the  one  in  charge

here.

Their safety was my responsibility."

"Oh, come on," Mara said, the sympathy still there but with  a  tinge  of

scorn  around  the  edges  now.  "Builder  With  Vines  was  an   intelligent,

responsible adult being. He knew what he was doing. He made his choice, and he

suffered the consequences. If you want to start feeling guilty about mistakes,

start with ones that were actually your fault."

"Such as?" Luke growled.

For a long moment Mara gazed coolly at him, and Luke felt a  sudden  wave

of misgiving ripple through his anger. "Such as?" Mara repeated. "Well,  let's

see.

Such as not moving your Jedi academy off Yavin when you first found out a

really nasty dark side power was infesting the place.  Such  as  not  slapping

down a tipped turbolaser like Kyp Durron the minute he  started  showing  dark

side tendencies of his own. Such as not providing adequate protection for your

sister's children against kidnapping, despite the fact  it  had  already  been

tried a couple of times. Such as unilaterally declaring yourself a Jedi Master

after less than ten years on the job. How long a list do you want?"

Luke tried to glare at her. But there was no strength behind  the  glare,

and with a grimace of embarrassment he dropped his gaze from her face. "You're

right," he sighed. "You're absolutely right. I don't know, Mara. It's  been...

I don't know."

"Let me guess," she said, the sarcasm gone from her voice again. "Life as

a Jedi has been a lot foggier than you ever expected  it  to  be.  You've  had

trouble understanding what you're supposed to do, or how  you're  supposed  to

behave. You've been gaining tremendous power in the Force, but more often than

not you've been paralyzed with fear that you're going to use it the wrong way.

Am I getting warm?"

Luke stared at her. "Yes," he said, not quite believing it. How  had  she

known? "That's it exactly."

"And yet," she continued, "sometime in the past couple of months,  things

have suddenly become clearer. Not that you've  had  any  great  lightning-bolt

insights, but a lot of the hesitation has  disappeared  and  you've  found  it

easier to stay on what seems in hindsight to have been the right path."

"Right again," Luke said. "Though there have also been one or two  pretty

impressive revelations," he added, thinking back. "The vision on Tierfon  that

got me in touch with Karrde just in time to hear about you being trapped here,

for one." He eyed her closely. "You know what's been going on?"

"Yes, it's been only slightly more visible than blindingly obvious,"  she

said dryly. "Certainly to me. Probably to Leia and Corran  and  some  of  your

other Jedi students, too. Possibly to everyone else in the New Republic."

"Oh, thank you," Luke said, trying to match her  tone  and  not  entirely

succeeding.

"That makes me feel so much better."

"Good. It was supposed to." Mara took a deep breath, and Luke could sense

her reluctance. "Look, you're the one in the middle of this.  You're  the  one

who has to make the final call on what's going on. But if you want my reading,

it all started with that little jaunt you took out to Byss  about  nine  years

ago. Where you faced?whatever it was you faced out there."

Luke shivered. "The reborn Emperor."

"Or whatever," Mara said with an odd touch  of  impatience.  "Personally,

I'm not convinced it was really him. But that's beside the  point.  The  point

was that you decided?stupidly and rather arrogantly, in  my  opinion?that  the

best way to stop him would be for you to pretend to join up and let him  teach

you some of his dark side techniques."

"But I didn't really go over to the dark side," Luke protested, trying to

remember those dark days. "I mean, I don't think I did."

Mara shook her head. "Debatable; but it almost doesn't matter. One way or

the other, you still willingly dabbled in it.  And  from  that  point  on,  it

colored everything you did."

One of Master Yoda's pronouncements floated up from his memory.  If  once

you start down the dark path, his old teacher  had  warned,  forever  will  it

dominate your destiny. "It did, too, didn't it?" he murmured, half to himself,

as all the errors and mistakes and, yes, the arrogance of the past nine  years

rose accusingly before his eyes. "What was I thinking?"

"You weren't thinking," Mara said,  an  odd  mixture  of  impatience  and

compassion swirling together in her voice and emotions.  "You  were  reacting,

trying to save everyone and do everything. And in the process you came  within

a split blaster bolt of destroying yourself."

"So what changed?" he asked. "What happened?"

Mara's eyes narrowed fractionally. "You telling me you don't know?"

Luke grimaced, wondering that he hadn't seen it  earlier.  That  critical

moment off Iphigin, as he and Han had prepared for combat against  the  pirate

gang Han had deduced was on its way. The moment when he'd seen the  vision  of

Emperor Palpatine and Exar Kun laughing at him... "No, I know,"  he  conceded.

"I made a decision to stop using the power of the Force so much."

And suddenly, through that mixture of compassion and  impatience  came  a

wave of something completely unexpected. An overpowering flood of relief. "You

got it," Mara said quietly. "Finally."

Luke shook his head. "But  why?"  he  demanded.  "The  power's  obviously

there, available for a Jedi to use. Is it just because I touched the dark side

that using it is so bad for me?"

"That's probably part of it," Mara said. "But even if  you'd  never  done

that you'd still have run into trouble. You ever been in  a  hullplate-shaping

plant?"

"Ah?no," Luke said, blinking at the sudden change of topic.

"How about an ore-crushing  facility?"  she  suggested.  "Lando's  had  a

couple of them at one time or another?you must have visited at  least  one  of

them."

"I've seen the one on Varn, yes," Luke said, the mention of Lando's  name

throwing a sudden damper on the cautiously growing feeling  of  excitement  at

these new revelations. Mara's relationship with Lando...

"Fine," Mara said, either missing the change in Luke's emotions  or  else

ignoring it. "Sometimes small songbirds  set  up  their  nests  in  the  upper

supports of those buildings. Did you hear any of them singing  when  you  were

there?"

Luke smiled tightly. Again, it was so obvious. "Of course not," he  said.

"It was way too noisy in there to hear anything that quiet."

Mara smiled back. "Pretty obvious, isn't it, once you see it.  The  Force

isn't just about power, like most non-Jedi think. It's  also  about  guidance:

everything from those impressive future visions to the  more  subtle  realtime

warnings I sometimes think of as a danger sense. Trouble is, the more you  tap

into it for raw power, the less you're able to  hear  its  guidance  over  the

noise of your own activity."

"Yes," Luke murmured, so many puzzles suddenly coming clear. He had often

wondered how it was he could rebuild Darth  Vader's  personal  fortress  while

Master Yoda had become winded doing something as relatively simple as  lifting

an X-wing from the Dagobah swamp. Clearly, Yoda had understood the choices far

better than his upstart pupil.

And even in the short time since Luke had decided to try that same choice

he'd already seen glimpses of why Yoda had chosen that path.  Subtle  bits  of

guidance,  sometimes  occurring  as  little  more  than   vague   and   almost

subconscious feelings, had been showing up more and more: protecting him  from

a quick capture back at  the  Cavrilhu  Pirates'  asteroid  base,  or  quietly

prompting him to accept Child Of Winds's assistance, which had led directly to

this cavern and the pride-motivated aid of the Qom Jha. "I was  on  Iphigin  a

couple of months ago helping  Han  with  some  negotiations,"  he  said.  "The

Diamala at the talks told Han that Jedi who used as much power as I did always

ended up slipping over to the dark side."

"They may be right," Mara agreed. "Not all Dark Jedi  come  from  botched

training, you know. Some of them slip into it all by themselves."

"Not a very pleasant thought," Luke  said  soberly,  thinking  about  his

Yavin academy. Of his successes at Jedi instruction there, and  his  failures.

"Especially given that I started teaching under dark side influence."

"Yes, I noticed that, too," Mara  agreed.  "Possibly  one  of  the  major

reasons you didn't do very well with that first batch of students."

Luke made a face. "Is that why you didn't stay?"

"That, and the changes  I  saw  in  you,"  she  said.  "You  didn't  seem

interested in listening to any warnings about  what  you  were  doing,  and  I

decided that when it collapsed around you it wouldn't do either of us any good

if I got caught in the rubble, too." She shrugged. "Anyway, Corran was  there,

and he seemed to have his head bolted on straight."

"He wasn't there very long, though," Luke murmured.

"Yes, I found that out afterward. Pity."

For a moment neither of them said anything. Luke craned his neck to  peer

to the side, wondering if the end of the fire creeper swarm was  visible  yet.

This introspection was both embarrassing and painful; and  besides,  they  had

urgent work to do.

But the black carpet still stretched as far as the passageway's turns and

irregularities permitted him to see. "What about you?" he asked, turning  back

to Mara again. "You were  the  Emperor's  Hand.  Why  hasn't  your  life  been

dominated by the dark side?"

She shrugged uncomfortably. "Maybe it has. It certainly was from the time

Palpatine took me from my home till I got rid of that last command he'd jammed

into my mind."

Her gaze clouded over oddly, as if she were  looking  into  some  private

place within herself. "Though it's  funny,  somehow.  Palpatine  never  really

tried to turn me to the dark side, at least not the way he  turned  Vader  and

tried to turn you. Actually, I don't think I was ever really in the dark  side

at all."

"But everything you were doing was the Emperor's work," Luke said. "If he

was on the dark side, shouldn't you have been, too?"

Mara shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "But  I  wasn't."  Her

gaze came back, and Luke could sense the protective barrier going up again, as

if she'd suddenly realized her private feelings had been a little too visible.

"You're the Jedi Master. You figure it out."

"I'll work on it," Luke promised. Yes, the barriers were back up.

But not as high as they'd once been. Not nearly as high.

"In the meantime," she said, "do those sustained control  techniques  you

taught me work on arm muscles as well as lightsabers?"

Luke focused on her arms, noticing for the  first  time  that  they  were

trembling slightly with muscle fatigue. "They do  okay,"  he  said.  "But  for

muscles there's a better technique. Let me show you..."

* * *

It was another hour before the swarm of fire  creepers  finally  finished

its migration beneath them and disappeared  down  the  cavern  passageway.  In

their wake they left Artoo and everything metal or otherwise indigestible from

their packs, though the packs themselves had vanished.

And, of course, Builder With Vines's remains.

Mara glanced once at the scattered bones, then  firmly  turned  her  eyes

away. Yes, it was the Qom Jha's own fault that he'd gotten himself killed; and

yes, on one level it was merely the balance of nature at work; and yes,  she'd

tried her best to keep Luke from taking any of the blame on himself. But  none

of that meant she had to like what had happened, or  wanted  to  look  at  the

results. "Good thing the food  bars  were  in  metal  boxes,"  she  commented,

massaging her fingers as she prodded what was left of their equipment with the

tip of her boot. "The water bottles didn't hold up nearly as well, though."

"There's plenty of water down here," Luke reminded her. He  was  standing

near their cut, looking up at Child Of Winds. "We just won't be able to  carry

extra supplies with us. It's all safe now, Child Of Winds. You can come down."

The young Qom  Qae  didn't  budge,  that  almost-voice  going  again.  "I

understand," Luke said gently. "But you have to come down. You're in  the  way

up there, and we don't want to hit you with our lightsabers."

For a moment Mara thought Child Of Winds would  decide  he  preferred  to

stay high up off the floor and take his chances with  the  lightsabers.  Then,

with clear reluctance, he spread his wings and fluttered down  to  a  slightly

awkward perch on top of the droid's dome.

"What now?" Mara asked, crossing to Luke's side. "Back to hack and slash?

"

Luke shrugged. "The wall's not going to fall apart on its own," he  said.

"Unless you think we ought to risk using the grenades."

Mara peered down the passageway. Nothing was visible, but after that fire

creeper swarm she was feeling a little spooked herself. "Let's stick with  the

lightsabers for now," she suggested. "If Splitter Of Stones gets back with the

reinforcements before we're finished we'll consider it."

"Sounds good," Luke agreed, pulling his  lightsaber  from  his  belt  and

igniting it.

"Artoo, keep an eye out for any more trouble."

The droid warbled a slightly  nervous  acknowledgment  and  extended  his

sensor unit again, nearly knocking Child Of Winds off his perch as he did  so.

"Okay," Luke said, taking his position to the side of their cut again.  "Let's

get started."

"Right," Mara  said,  igniting  her  own  lightsaber.  Luke's  lightsaber

slashed and died; Mara's followed similarly?

And that, she realized, was that. They'd had the conversation she'd known

was coming, and had been dreading, since he first arrived here. And while he'd

obviously not exactly been thrilled by  the  realization  of  how  badly  he'd

wrecked the past few years, he'd taken the news better than she'd expected him

to.

The question now was what he  would  do  with  this  newfound  knowledge.

Whether he would take it solidly to heart and commit to what he now  knew  was

right, or whether the lure of power and quick solutions would eventually  drag

him back to the easy path. The dark path.

She would just have to wait and see.

CHAPTER

16

From behind him came the sound of an opening door,  and  Han  turned  his

head to see Lando step into the Lady Luck's bridge.  "Okay,  it's  done,"  the

other announced, his tone tense and decidedly grumpy. "Everything's been  shut

down to standby. Engines, sensors, computer system?the works."

He crossed the bridge and dropped into the pilot's seat beside Han.  "And

I'd like to go on record right now as saying I hate this."

"I'm not exactly happy about it myself," Han had to admit. "But  this  is

the way it has to be."

Lando snorted. "Says a self-admitted Imperial clone TIE pilot," he  added

accusingly. "You know, Han, I've done some crazy things in my time,  but  this

one takes the prize."

Han grimaced, gazing out at the stars. It was crazy, all right. Somewhere

out there, a hyperspace microjump away, was  an  Imperial  Ubiqtorate  contact

station, with all the security and firepower and  just  plain  nastiness  that

that implied.

And here they were, probably well within its defensive perimeter, sitting

around like a belly-up gornt with their systems cranked way back to keep  from

being too visible to any auto-rovers the station might have out wandering  the

area.

Waiting for an Imperial clone to come back and tell  them  where  in  the

shrunken Empire the capital of Bastion was located.  "Leia  said  he  was  all

right," he told Lando.

"She said he was sincere and not planning to betray you," Lando corrected

darkly.

"She didn't say he was a competent enough liar to pull this  whole  thing

off.

Especially not in front of some congenitally suspicious Ubiqtorate agent.

"

Han eyed him. "You don't like clones, do you?"

Lando snorted again. "No, I don't," he said flatly. "Palpatine  may  have

talked about alien species as being  subhuman,  but  clones  are  really  down

there."

For a minute the bridge was silent. Han gazed out at the stars some more,

rubbing his fingertips over his blaster grip and trying  not  to  let  Lando's

nervousness get to him. Leia had agreed to let him come out here,  after  all,

and Leia was a Jedi. Surely she'd have seen or felt or  guessed  if  something

bad was going to happen. Wouldn't she?

"Tell me about this Baron Fel," Lando said suddenly. "I mean the original

one.

What was he like?"

Han shrugged. "Typical  Corellian,  I  suppose.  Well,  no,  actually  he

wasn't. He was a farm boy, for one thing,  who  got  bribed  with  an  academy

appointment to stop him testifying in a legal action against  some  big  agro-

combine official's son. We were at Carida  together  for  a  while,  though  I

didn't hang around with him much. He was an honorable sort, I  suppose?even  a

little stiff-necked about it sometimes?and a pretty fair pilot."

"As good as you?" Lando asked.

Han smiled tightly. "Better," he said, a little surprised he was actually

admitting that out loud. "At least, with something the size of a TIE fighter."

"So how did he wind up getting cloned?" Lando asked. "As I  remember  the

history, he quit the Empire, joined Rogue Squadron, then  got  recaptured.  So

the question is, why would anyone clone a guy who'd  already  turned  once?  I

don't care how good a pilot he was."

"Leia and I asked Carib the same question on Pakrik Minor," Han said. "He

told us he didn't know, that it wasn't part of the flash-learning they'd  been

given in the cloning tanks."

Lando grunted. "Look. They would have had to hold him for three  or  four

years, minimum, before Thrawn got his cloning tanks up and running. Right?"

"They didn't need all of him," Han murmured. "C'baoth  cloned  Luke  from

the hand he lost at Bespin, remember?"

"Yes, but Luke's hand was one of  Palpatine's  trophies,"  Lando  pointed

out. "Why would anyone bother keeping parts of Fel in  storage?  No  one  even

knew Palpatine had all those cloning tanks hidden away, let alone that  Thrawn

would show up and get them running again."

"Point," Han conceded. "So they probably kept him alive somewhere."

"Right," Lando said. "The question is where?"

"I don't know," Han said. "No one ever found records about him at any  of

the Imperial prisons or penal colonies we liberated. With his  connections  to

Rogue Squadron, we would have heard if they had."

He hesitated. "The other thing you might not know is that a month or  two

after his recapture, his wife pulled the same sort of vanishing act."

Lando frowned. "I remember Wedge talking about that  once.  But  you  say

'vanishing'?I thought it was the Empire who snatched her."

"That's what everyone thought at the time," Han agreed.  "But  once  they

started sifting through the evidence,  it  was  a  lot  less  clear  what  had

happened. Anyway, no one ever found a trace of her, either."

Lando shook his head. "If any of this is supposed to  reassure  me,  it's

not. The only way Isard could have gotten Fel back on the Empire's side  would

have been to braintwist him. You want to tell me what kind of clone  is  going

to come from that?"

Han sighed. "I don't know. All I know is that Leia cleared him."

Lando nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

Again, silence descended on the bridge. This time, it was Han  who  broke

it. "What are Lobot and Moegid doing back there?" he asked.

"They were practicing their slicing techniques before you had me shut the

computer down," Lando said, still sounding grumpy. "They're probably  checking

over Moegid's equipment now."

"Did you tell them where we were going?"

Lando's lips compressed briefly. "I told them  we  were  going  into  the

Empire. I didn't tell them exactly where. Or why."

"Maybe you'd better go do that," Han suggested. "Moegid may need to brush

up on Imperial computer systems or something."

"I don't think Verpine ever have to brush up on  anything,"  Lando  said.

But he nevertheless levered himself out of his seat. "Sure, why not? We  might

as well all be worried together. It's better than sitting around  waiting  for

the hammer to drop, anyway."

"Don't worry," Han called after him as he left the  bridge.  "It'll  work

out.

Trust me."

There was no response but the metallic thud of the door as it  slid  shut

behind him. Sighing again, Han turned  his  attention  back  to  watching  for

Carib's freighter to return.

Trying hard not to worry.

* * *

The Ubiqtorate agent seated at his console gazed up at his  visitor  from

under bushy eyebrows. "All right," he said in a voice  that  somehow  reminded

Carib of a thousand prasher worms scratching  their  wings  against  tallgrain

leaves. "Your ID checks out."

"Glad to hear it," Carib said, trying to put some  righteous  indignation

into his tone. To his ears, though, he sounded merely  plaintive.  "Does  that

mean you're finally ready to listen?"

The agent leaned back in his seat, regarding  Carib  coolly.  "Sure,"  he

said. "Provided you're ready to hear a list of charges against you if this big

news of yours isn't as flacking urgent as you seem to think it is."

He slammed his stylus down on the  desk  in  front  of  him.  "Blast  it,

Devist, you know you're never supposed to come here yourself. All  you  people

are supposed to  know  that.  Everything  you  have  to  report  goes  through

channels. Everything."

Carib remained standing at attention, listening  to  the  reprimand  with

half an ear and waiting with all the patience he could muster for the other to

run out of  words.  The  self-generated  tirade,  he  knew,  was  one  of  the

Ubiqtorate's  classic  tactics  for  rattling  someone  they  wanted   to   be

vulnerable.

But no. That wasn't something he knew. It was something Baron Soontir Fel

had known. Something that had been artificially  transferred  along  with  his

piloting skill to Carib and his brothers. Memories that were not his own, from

a person who was not him.

And yet, on some level, was indeed him.

It was a mind-numbing thought,  a  painful  and  depressing  blurring  of

identity that had cost Carib many a  sleepless  night  back  on  Pakrik  Minor

before he'd finally made the conscious decision to bury it as far back at  the

edge of his mind as he could.

And he'd done a fair job of keeping it there... until  the  long-awaited,

long-feared orders had come in from the remnants of the Empire?could it really

have been only two weeks ago??reactivating his TIE combat unit. Then, all  the

old uncertainties and questions and self-doubts had surged back to  the  front

of his mind. He was a clone. A clone. A clone...

Stop it, he snarled at the word. I am  Carib  Devist.  Husband  of  Lacy,

father of Daberin and Keena, tallgrain farmer of the Dorchess Valley of Pakrik

Minor.

Where I came from and how I came to be don't matter. I am who I am.

He took a careful breath... and as he  did  so,  the  doubts  once  again

returned to their uneasy sleep in the deep crevices of his mind. He was  Carib

Devist; and despite what anyone might say or believe, he was indeed  a  unique

individual.

The Ubiqtorate agent was starting to wind down now, and with a flicker of

private amusement Carib realized that for once the old intimidation tactic had

backfired. Far from unnerving its intended  victim,  the  tirade  had  instead

given him the time he needed to collect his thoughts  and  his  nerve  and  to

prepare for verbal combat.

"So let's hear it," the agent snarled. "Let's hear this vitally important

news of yours."

"Yes, sir," Carib said. "There was an Imperial  attack  on  New  Republic

High Councilor Leia Organa Solo over Pakrik Minor five days ago. It failed."

"Yes, thank you, we know that," the agent said  sarcastically.  "Are  you

telling me you broke security??"

"The reason it failed," Carib continued, "was because?"

"I'm talking here, Devist," the agent snapped. "You broke security for  a

story we could have pulled off Coruscant Hourly??"

"?was because," Carib went on doggedly, "they were assisted?"

"Will you shut up? I'll have your skin pickled in?"

"?by an unknown alien ship," Carib finished.

"?a Hutt's slimy?" He broke off. "What do  you  mean,  an  unknown  alien

ship?" he demanded.

"I mean a ship with a completely unknown design,"  Carib  said.  "It  had

four outboard panels like  the  two  on  a  TIE  fighter,  but  the  rest  was

definitely non-Imperial."

For a long moment the agent  measured  Carib  with  his  eyes.  "I  don't

suppose you happened to pull any records of the battle," he said at last,  his

tone challenging.

"Not of the battle itself," Carib said, pulling a datacard from his  side

pouch.

"But we did get something of the ship afterward."

The agent held out his hand. Carib dropped the datacard into it, mentally

crossing his fingers. Solo had cobbled this thing  together  during  the  trip

here from a pair of records he and Organa Solo had  had  with  them  in  their

ship. Where they'd gotten the originals Carib didn't know.

And really didn't care, either. Combat, intrigue, galactic  security?none

of those were matters he and his brothers wanted anything to do with  anymore.

All they wanted was to be left alone to raise their families  and  tend  their

farms and live their lives.

And all he cared about at this immediate moment was that Solo's gimmicked

record be good enough to fool this glowering bit-pusher into believing it.  If

it was...

The agent whistled under his breath, peering  at  his  reader.  "Tarkin's

teeth," he muttered, shaking his head. "Are these energy readings correct?"

"That's what was there." Carib hesitated, but he couldn't resist. "So was

it worth breaking security for?"

The agent looked up, but it was  clear  he  wasn't  really  seeing  Carib

anymore. "I'd say so, yes," he said  absently,  keying  his  board  furiously.

"Sure. Just watch it when you head home, and keep with the zigzag. Dismissed."

And that was it. No thank-yous, no well-dones, no nothing. Just  a  petty

little Ubiqtorate agent on dead-end duty at the edge of nowhere  with  visions

of promotion dancing through his head.

But that was okay, Carib knew as he headed down the  corridor.  His  part

was done now, or almost done, and Solo would take it from here.  He  could  go

back to Lacy and his brothers and sink back into the quiet anonymity that  was

all any of them desired.

Unless...

He grimaced as a thought belatedly struck him. Yes, the Ubiqtorate' agent

back there had swallowed the bait in a single eager  gulp.  But  that  was  no

guarantee the military analysts on Bastion who would  take  the  record  apart

would do the same.

And it was no guarantee at all that Grand  Admiral  Thrawn  wouldn't  see

instantly through the scam. If he did, and if Solo was still in Imperial space

at the time...

He shook his head once to clear it. No. He'd done what they  wanted,  and

had risked his own neck to do it. What happened now was in  their  hands,  not

his. His part was done. Period.

Quickening his pace, he  headed  toward  the  docking  tunnel  where  his

freighter was berthed. The faster he got out of here and back to his farm, the

better.

* * *

From off to the side, the speaker suddenly crackled. "Solo?"

Hastily, Han dropped his feet off the edge of  the  control  board  where

they'd been propped and keyed the comm. "Yeah, I'm here, Carib," he said. "You

got it?"

"Yes," Carib said. "He sent the droid probe off on vector forty-three  by

fifteen."

Behind Han, the bridge door opened. "Is that Devist?" Lando asked.

"Yeah," Han said as he punched up a chart. "You sure this is  the  vector

to Bastion?"

"It's the direction the probe went," Carib said. "I'm sending you a  copy

of the recording."

"What I meant was are you sure he was sending it to Bastion," Han said as

a beep from the board acknowledged receipt of the transmission.

"He didn't say anything one way or the other," Carib said. "But from  the

shining vision of promotion in his eyes, I can't see where else he would  have

sent it."

"How about to the main Ubiqtorate base at Yaga Minor?"  Lando  countered.

"Isn't that his proper chain of command?"

"Usually, yes," Carib said. "But matters of immediate military importance

go directly to the high command. Your unknown alien  ship  should  come  under

that heading."

"We hope," Lando muttered.

"Besides which, there  are  military  politics  involved,"  Carib  added.

"Anyone stuck out on a contact station like this is  here  because  the  upper

echelons have basically written him off. The only way to get out is to impress

someone higher up in the military. Again, that means sending  it  straight  to

Bastion."

Han lifted his eyebrows at Lando. "Sounds reasonable to me."

"I suppose," Lando said suspiciously, peering with narrowed eyes  at  the

freighter hanging in space outside the Lady Luck's viewport. "So Baron Fel was

pretty good with military politics, was he?"

Han winced. Whatever Lando's feelings about clones might be, there was no

reason to go out of his way to antagonize Carib. Especially when the  man  was

trying to help them.

Even more especially when they were sitting at the edge of Imperial space

within spitting distance of a Ubiqtorate station. "Carib?"

"It's all right, Solo," Carib said, his voice studiously neutral.  "Maybe

you'll agree now I was right when I talked about this back on Pakrik Minor."

Han winced again. Carib's contention that there was still heavy prejudice

against clones in the New Republic... "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's all right," Carib repeated. "My part's done; I'm heading home. Good

luck to you."

The  freighter  curved  away  over  the  Lady  Luck  and  flickered  with

pseudomotion as it made the jump to lightspeed. "He's sure in a hurry  to  get

away," Lando growled.

"He's heading home," Han reminded him, turning his attention back to  the

chart.

A course of forty-three by fifteen from the Ubiqtorate station would  put

it...

"Looks like the  Sartinaynian  system,"  Lando  said,  looking  over  his

shoulder.

"Yeah, it does," Han agreed, nodding.

"Funny place to  put  an  Imperial  capital,"  Lando  said,  an  edge  of

suspicion still coloring his tone.

"Oh, I don't know," Han said, skimming down  the  data  the  Lady  Luck's

computer had on the place. "It was a sector capital once, so they're  probably

used to having a bureaucracy underfoot."

"Still a long way from the glittering towers of Coruscant, though," Lando

said.

"Isn't everything?" Han countered. "Come on, we're wasting time."

Shaking his head, Lando dropped into the pilot's seat. "Sure. Let's  just

walk into the middle of the Imperial capital. Why not?"

"Lando, look?"

"No, it's all right, Han," Lando said with a tired sigh. "I said  I'd  do

it, and I will. I just wish I didn't have to." He reached over and  keyed  the

nav computer. "But wishes don't bring you the cards you want. Give  Lobot  and

Moegid a call, will you, and tell them to strap in."

"Sure," Han said, reaching for his own restraints with one hand and going

for the comm switch with the other. "Hey, don't worry. It's going to work  out

fine."

"Yeah," Lando said. "Sure."

* * *

"No!" Ishori Senator Ghic Dx'ono snarled, slamming  a  horny-tipped  fist

down on the table for emphasis. "It is completely out  of  the  question.  The

Ishori will not accept anything less than full and complete  justice  for  the

Caamasi and the people of the New Republic."

"Justice  is  what  we  all  seek,"  Diamalan  Senator  Porolo   Miatamia

countered, his voice the glacial calm of his species. "But?"

"You lie!" Dx'ono all but screamed, his ears flattened against his  head.

"The Diamala demand the impossible, and refuse to settle for anything else!"

"Senators, please," President Ponc Gavrisom cut in,  his  wings  sweeping

briefly between the other two as if trying  to  separate  a  pair  of  enraged

shockball players. "I'm not asking for a resolution of  the  Caamas  situation

here and now.

All I'm asking?"

"I know what you're asking," Dx'ono snarled. "But  justice  postponed  is

too often justice ignored." He jabbed a  finger  accusingly  toward  Miatamia.

"And that is precisely the situation the Diamala are trying to engineer."

"The Diamala have every intention of  seeing  justice  served,"  Miatamia

said coldly. "But we understand that more urgent matters should take priority.

"

"Thrawn is dead!" Dx'ono snarled, leaping to his feet as if to physically

attack the other. "He is dead! All Imperial records agree!"

Miatamia remained unmoved. "I saw him, Senator. I saw him, and heard him?

"

"Lies!" Dx'ono cut him off. "All lies, created to distract  us  from  the

search for justice."

Seated in the small room behind the false wall, Booster Terrik shook  his

head. "Idiots," he muttered. "Both of them."

"Now, now, Father," his daughter Mirax Terrik Horn  said,  squeezing  his

arm. "Both of them are probably sincere, from their own  different  points  of

view."

"And we all know what road is lined with  sincere  people,"  Terrik  said

sourly, glancing back over his shoulder. "Where is  that  blasted  Bel  Iblis,

anyway? I've got work to do."

"You've got nothing but overhaul  and  maintenance  work  on  the  Errant

Venture scheduled for the next three weeks," Mirax admonished him firmly. "And

you're not needed for a single bit of it."

Booster sent a glare at her, a glare that worked about as  well  as  such

looks had ever worked on her. Which was to say, not very. "I thought daughters

were supposed to be a source of pride and comfort to their  fathers  in  their

old age," he grumbled.

She smiled. "When you get there, I'll see what I can do," she promised.

The smile faded as she turned back to the false wall. "This  whole  thing

is starting to get out of hand. Have you heard that  a  hundred  systems  have

already petitioned to rejoin the Empire?"

"My sources say it's only been twenty systems," Booster said. "Everything

else is just rumors."

"Whatever the numbers, it's still something to worry about," Mirax  said,

a note of quiet dread in her voice. "If Thrawn is really still alive,  and  if

all this turmoil persuades people they want or need his protection,  then  the

Empire could regain its territory without firing a single shot."

"I doubt they're going to talk  that  many  systems  into  coming  back,"

Booster argued. But he didn't feel nearly as confident as  he  was  trying  to

sound. "Anyway, there's not a lot we can do about it."

Behind him, the door slid open. "Ah?Captain Terrik,"  General  Bel  Iblis

said, striding in and offering his hand. "Thank you for coming. I trust you've

been well entertained?"

"If you mean the dance show, I've seen better," Booster said,  jerking  a

thumb toward the loud drama in the next room as  he  reluctantly  and  briefly

gripped Bel Iblis's hand. He and authority had never gotten along  very  well.

"Speaking of dance shows, I've got a bone to pick with you over that  nonsense

in the Sif'kric system three weeks ago. The bureaucrats  there  still  haven't

released the Hoopster's Prank back to me."

"I didn't know that," Bel Iblis said, shutting off the speaker  that  was

bringing the argument in from the  next  room  and  pulling  over  the  room's

remaining chair.

"I'll give orders to have it sprung as soon as we finish here."

Booster eyed him warily. "The word 'finish' implies a start."

"Indeed it does," Bel Iblis agreed, positioning the chair to face the two

of them and sitting down. "I didn't ask you here just for a private showing of

Gavrisom's mediation skill. Incidentally, I presume I don't have to  tell  you

that anything you heard here is to be considered confidential."

"Really." Booster frowned thoughtfully at his daughter. "Let's  see.  The

Ishori scream when they debate and want a  square  meter  of  skin  off  every

Bothan to give to what's left of the Caamasi. The Diamala want the same square

meter, but only from the Bothans who helped destroy  Caamas?exhuming  them  if

necessary?as soon as anyone figures out who they were. Who  do  you  think  we

should sell these big secrets to first, Mirax?"

She gave her father a patient look  and  shifted  her  attention  to  Bel

Iblis. "We understand, General," she said. "What is it you want?"

"I let you see a bit of this private conversation because  I  thought  it

would help drive home the seriousness of the situation we're  in,"  Bel  Iblis

said, nodding back toward the discussion still going on now  inaudibly  behind

him. "The buildup of warships over Bothawui is being repeated all over the New

Republic as worlds and species line up behind the Ishori and Diamala over this

issue. The only way we're going to defuse the situation is  to  find  out  who

exactly the Bothans were who sabotaged the Caamas planetary shields."

"As a dancer, General, you're no better than  they  are,"  Booster  said.

"Get to the point."

Bel Iblis locked eyes with him. "I want to borrow the Errant Venture."

Booster stared at him, too stunned even to laugh in the  general's  face.

"You must be joking," he got out at last. "Certainly not."

"What do you need it for?" Mirax asked.

Bel Iblis shifted his gaze to her. "We think there may be a complete copy

of the Caamas Document in the Ubiqtorate base at Yaga  Minor,"  he  told  her.

"Gavrisom has decided to launch an information raid to try to get hold of it."

"A data raid on a Ubiqtorate base?" Booster  echoed.  "What  poor  sucker

pulled that assignment?"

Bel Iblis regarded him coolly. "I did," he said.

For a moment the room was  silent.  Booster  studied  Bel  Iblis's  face,

wishing the general had glazed over the false wall behind him when he'd turned

off the sound.

The argument back there, particularly  the  Ishori  Senator's  wide-armed

flailing, was highly distracting.

As Bel Iblis probably intended it to be. "Okay," he said at last. "I  get

the picture?you need  a  Star  Destroyer  to  sneak  in  through  their  outer

defenses. Last I heard, the New Republic still has some captured ones. Why not

use one of those?"

"Two reasons," Bel Iblis  said.  "First,  they're  all  too  well  known.

Disguising their markings and engine ID signatures would take too long."

"And probably not fool anyone for long," Mirax murmured.

Booster glared at her. Whose side was she on here, anyway?

"Right." Bel Iblis nodded. "Second, and more importantly, we  can't  pull

any of them away from their assigned patrol duties  without  everyone  in  the

sector instantly missing them. You know what an information raid is  like:  if

the target gets even a whiff of your plans, you're sunk."

Booster crossed his arms across his chest. "Sorry, General. I  sympathize

with your problem and all, but no deal. I went through too much for that  ship

to risk it in some crazy scheme that's none of my business anyway."

Bel Iblis cocked his head slightly to the side. "You sure about it  being

none of your business?"

Booster uncrossed his arms far enough to tap at his upper chest. "You see

a New Republic military insignia here?"

"You see the Diamalan Senator back there?" Bel Iblis countered.  "They're

allies with the Mon Cals on this Bothan situation; and you know how  much  the

Mon Cals hate smugglers. If all-out war breaks out, one of  the  first  things

they're likely to do is move against all smuggling groups they  can  find,  if

for no other reason than to drain the potential pool of privateers  the  other

side can use."

He lifted an eyebrow. "And  with  an  Imperial  Star  Destroyer  in  your

possession, where do you think you'll end up on their list of things to do?"

Booster grimaced. "Somewhere near the top?"

"That's where I'd put you," Bel Iblis agreed. "So helping me is very much

in your own best interests."

He had a case, Booster had to admit. And he  could  feel  the  accusation

behind Mirax's eyes as she gazed at him, reminding him of his glib comment not

five minutes ago about how there was nothing they could do.

And it occurred to him?as it might not yet have to his  daughter?that  if

Bel Iblis was going to Yaga Minor, Mirax's husband, Corran, and  the  rest  of

Rogue Squadron would probably be going in with him.

But to be asked to risk his beloved Errant Venture this way was just  too

much.

Yes, it was falling apart, with half its systems questionable or  totally

dead, and with an operating cost that would make an Imperial baron blanch. But

it was his. All his...

He paused. What in the worlds was he thinking of?

He uncrossed his arms and resettled himself in his seat, eyeing Bel Iblis

speculatively. "Unfortunately, even if I said yes, you'd never get  away  with

it," he pointed out. "You turn a halfway decent sensor  array  on  the  Errant

Venture and a blind wampa could  tell  we're  not  up  to  Imperial  standards

anymore.  We'd  need  turbolaser  and  tractor-emplacement  upgrades,   shield

rebuilds, whole system replacements?you name it, we need it."

Bel Iblis's gaze had hardened noticeably during the recitation. "I  see,"

he said dryly. "Airen Cracken warned me about you."

"Glad to hear he remembers  me."  Booster  shrugged.  "It's  up  to  you,

General. I'll lend you the ship; but in exchange,  you  have  to  upgrade  the

systems. And win or lose, those upgrades stay put when it's all over."

"The Mon Cals will love that."

"If war breaks out, the Mon Cals  will  be  the  least  of  my  worries,"

Booster said bluntly. "Every two-bit pirate and smuggling group in the  galaxy

will be trying to get their hands on the Venture. That's my offer; take it  or

leave it."

"I'll take it," Bel Iblis said, standing up. "Where's the ship now?"

"Parked over in the outer Mrisst system," Booster told him,  standing  up

as well and trying not to show his surprise. His admittedly spotty  experience

with New Republic officials was that they needed more cajoling and a lot  more

bargaining before they finally gave in. And New  Republic  military  officials

were even worse.

"Where do you want it delivered?"

"I'll tell you once we're aboard," Bel Iblis said.

Booster frowned. "You're coming with us?"

"Along with two hundred of my crewers," the general said.  "We'll  assist

you in flying the ship until we pick up a proper crew at the rendezvous point.

"

"I have a proper crew," Booster retorted. He should have known Bel  Iblis

wouldn't give in this easily.

"For running a mobile smugglers depot, perhaps," Bel Iblis said. "Not for

impersonating an Imperial warship. I'll be bringing a full skeleton complement

aboard before we leave the rendezvous point."

Booster drew himself up to his full height. "Let's get one thing straight

right now, General," he said stiffly. "The Errant Venture is  my  ship.  If  I

don't captain her, she doesn't go anywhere."

Once again, Bel Iblis surprised him.  "Certainly,"  he  said  calmly.  "I

wouldn't have it any other way. I have a shuttle waiting; we'll leave at once.

"

"Whatever you say," Booster said, fighting against the bad feeling  that,

despite appearances, Bel Iblis had  still  not  given  in  quite  the  way  it

sounded. "Mirax, you might as well take my shuttle and head back home."

Bel Iblis cleared his throat. "What?" Booster demanded suspiciously.

"I'm  afraid  Mirax  will  have  to  come  with  us,"  Bel   Iblis   said

apologetically. "It's absolutely vital that we have complete security on this,

and that means no one who knows about it  can  be  allowed  to  wander  around

loose."

Booster drew himself up again. "If you think I'm going to let my daughter

come on a raid against a Ubiqtorate base?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Bel Iblis hastened to assure him. "She and her  son

will stay behind at the rendezvous point with the prep crew."

Once again, Booster had the distinct feeling of  having  had  the  blocks

knocked out from under him. "Fine," he muttered. "Well, let's  get  going.  If

you're determined to go marching into an Imperial base, we might as  well  get

to it."

"Yes," Bel Iblis said. "And let me thank you once again  for  your  help.

Don't worry; it'll all work out fine."

"Yeah," Booster grumbled as he took Mirax's arm. "Sure."

CHAPTER

17

With one final truncated lightsaber sweep, the last of  the  chunks  came

away from the opening and crashed hollowly to the rocky floor.  "There,"  Luke

said, peering into the hole. "What do you think?"

Mara stepped close to his side and shined her glow rod into the  opening.

"Still going to be tight for the droid," she said. "But I think it'll do."

Luke glanced back over his shoulder, to the eight Qom  Jha  hanging  from

the passageway ceiling. Yes, it would do. More importantly, now that  Splitter

Of Stones and Keeper Of Promises had returned with the Qom Jha  hunters  Eater

Of Fire Creepers had promised, they should get moving  before  they  lost  any

prestige in their guides' eyes.

Or to put it another way, before they lost so much confidence  in  Master

Walker Of Sky that they decided to back out of this trip entirely. They hadn't

said much about Builder With Vines's violent death, but they  were  definitely

avoiding the area where their friend had died.

And they weren't going out of their way to be nice  to  Child  Of  Winds,

either. If he and Mara didn't get moving, there was likely to be more  of  the

same trouble they'd already had too much of.

"I agree," he said, returning his lightsaber to  his  belt  and  stepping

over to the shrunken collection of items that had been  his  pack  before  the

fire creepers had gotten to it. Aside from the food bars in their metal  case,

the spare blaster power packs and glow rods, and some of the syntherope, there

wasn't much left. The bedrolls, survival tent,  medpacs,  even  the  detonator

casings on the grenades had all been ravaged into useless shreds. "I guess  we

just take whatever we can salvage of this stuff?"

"That's what I'm doing," Mara said. She had one of her ration boxes  open

and was sorting out the bars between the  various  pockets  in  her  jumpsuit.

"Soldiers' first rule: concentrate on the food."

"Understood," Luke said, starting to fill his own pockets.  Artoo  rolled

unsteadily up to him on the uneven ground and with a beep of  invitation  slid

open the hidden compartment in his dome.  "I'm  putting  what's  left  of  the

syntherope in Artoo,"  Luke  called  to  Mara,  stuffing  the  coil  into  the

compartment. "In case you need it."

"Fine," Mara said. "I'm ready."

"Me, too," Luke said, gazing into the darkness. "You want  to  stay  with

the same marching order?"

"You mean with you in front and me behind  handling  the  luggage?"  Mara

asked, nodding toward Artoo.

Luke felt his face warming. "I meant?"

"I know what you meant," Mara said, giving him a wry smile.  "But  you're

the Jedi; and if there's anything in there with big teeth, you've got the best

chance of toasting it before it draws blood. So. After you."

Luke looked up at the waiting Qom Jha. "Sure," he said, shifting his glow

rod to his left hand and drawing his lightsaber.  "We're  ready,  Splitter  Of

Stones."

Follow me, the Qom Jha said, dropping off the ceiling and fluttering into

the darkness.

It was quickly evident that their route wasn't so much a passageway as it

was a narrow, V-shaped crack in the rock. Within the first  three  steps  Luke

was forced to return his lightsaber to his belt and wedge his  glow  rod  into

his tunic to free up his hands to help pull himself along. Behind him he could

hear Artoo's continuous nervous twittering  and  the  occasional  muted  thunk

where Mara bumped him into one of the side walls.

Each time that happened, he had to fight back the impulse  to  offer  his

help. If Mara needed him, she would ask. Probably.

Fortunately, the crack was only no more than three meters  long,  with  a

yellowish wall blocking the far end. This  is  the  way  inside,  Splitter  Of

Stones said from a perch at a small gap that broached the yellow wall near the

top. Beyond this wall is the High Tower.

"I'd say we're here," Mara commented. "That wall's definitely artificial.

"

"Agreed," Luke said, wedging himself into a more or less steady  position

in front of the wall and drawing his lightsaber. "You and Artoo keep back."

The wall was quite thin and, more importantly, not made of cortosis  ore.

Three quick slices of the green blade, and they had their entrance.

Luke dropped through the opening,  lightsaber  and  Jedi  senses  at  the

ready.

Beyond the wall was a dark, high-ceilinged room, incredibly  dusty,  that

extended out beyond the range of his glow rod beam. Spaced along the walls  at

two different heights were elaborately tooled wall sconces  that  looked  like

they had once held torches or torchlike lights. Above the sconces, at  perhaps

a dozen other points around the room, other gaps showed where sections of  the

yellow wall had crumbled away from the ceiling. Aside from the sconces,  there

were no other decorations or furnishings.

"Doesn't look like Hijarna," Mara muttered from behind  him,  waving  her

own glow rod around.

"What?" Luke asked.

"There's a ruined fortress on the planet Hijarna," she explained. "Karrde

sometimes uses it as a meeting place."

"Yes, he said something about that when I  saw  him  on  Cejansij,"  Luke

said. "He said if this fortress was like that one it could probably shrug  off

any attack he could throw at it."

"Him, or the New Republic in general," Mara  said  grimly.  "The  Hijarna

fortress was made of some incredibly hard black stone that  could  eat  massed

turbolaser fire for breakfast."

She gestured with her glow rod. "My first look at  the  High  Tower  from

outside the cave mouth reminded me of that one. But  the  wall  material  here

isn't anything like it."

Artoo whistled, his sensor unit extended and rotating back and  forth  as

if searching for something. "That doesn't  necessarily  mean  anything,"  Luke

pointed out, squatting down in front of the droid and peering at  the  datapad

they'd rigged up to serve as translator for  his  more  complicated  comments.

"They could have been built by two different groups of the same people."

"Maybe. What's he saying?"

"He says that from the fastenings he doesn't think the wall sconces  were

part of the original furnishings," Luke said. "For whatever that's worth."

He straightened up and pointed toward the unseen part of  the  room.  "He

also says there's a very strong power source operating somewhere over there."

"Really," Mara said with interest, taking a step in  that  direction  and

shining her glow rod into the darkness. "Let's go take a look."

No! Keeper Of Promises said sharply from above Luke.

"Hang on," Luke said to Mara, looking up. Keeper Of Promises was  perched

on one of the wall sconces, his wings quivering with agitation. "What's wrong?

" he asked.

That way lies destruction, the Qom Jha said. Others  have  searched  that

direction.

None have ever returned.

"He says there's danger that way," Luke translated for  Mara.  "Specifics

unknown."

"Except that it eats Qom Jha, I presume," Mara said. "On the other  hand,

the only way out of here has to be that direction."

No, there is another way, Splitter Of Stones said from one of  the  other

sconces.

Come.

He flew across to the wall to their left and settled to a perch in one of

the other gaps beneath the ceiling. Here, he said. Here is the entrance to the

hidden passage.

"Really," Luke said, feeling his eyes narrow. The  Qom  Jha  hadn't  said

anything about a hidden passage before. "And this hidden  passage  leads  into

the High Tower?"

Come, Splitter Of Stones said. You will see.

"Hidden passage, huh?" Mara commented as they  crossed  the  room,  Artoo

rolling along behind them. "I don't recall that being mentioned before."

"Me, neither," Luke said. "It could have been just an oversight."

"Or an awkward but conveniently forgotten fact," Mara said darkly.

Artoo twittered questioningly. "Awkward because hidden  passages  usually

also have hidden exits," Mara said to the droid over her shoulder. "And unless

the Qom Jha have found a way through those exits, they  won't  know  any  more

about the layout of the High Tower than we do."

"How about it, Splitter Of Stones?" Luke asked. "Have you and your people

been inside, or haven't you?"

We have traveled all through the hidden passage was the  somewhat  sullen

reply.

There are places where we can see the Threateners and hear what they  are

saying.

"Let me guess," Mara said. "They've  never  actually  been  in  the  High

Tower, but they're sure they'll be able to find their way around once  we  get

them in."

"Basically," Luke said heavily. "Apparently, for all their talk, no one's

actually been inside the place."

Some of the Qom Qae have been inside, Child Of Winds spoke up. I know  of

some who have done so.

Luke frowned at him. "They have? Who? When?"

Friends from other nestings have  entered  from  above,  Child  Of  Winds

explained.

But they have always been quickly driven out, and have seen very little.

"Still, that's apparently more than the Qom Jha have  done,"  Luke  said,

looking at Splitter Of Stones again. The  Qom  Jha  was  maintaining  a  stiff

silence, but Luke could tell he was not at all pleased with  this  revelation.

"Have you yourself been inside, Child Of Winds?"

No, he said. Only friends from the nesting nearest here.

"What's the debate?" Mara asked.

"Child Of Winds says some of the younger Qom Qae of the region have poked

around inside the upper areas of the High Tower," Luke said. "But  how  is  it

you're in contact with these others, Child Of Winds? I thought Hunter Of Winds

said matters outside your nesting were of no concern to you."

They are of no concern to adult Qom Qae, Child Of  Winds  said.  But  all

children may fly freely wherever they wish.

"Ah." So adult  Qom  Qae  were  territorial,  but  their  children  mixed

together across nesting boundaries however they wanted.

And  in  the  process  played  the  role  of  informal  ambassadors   and

information gatherers? Possibly. Something to remember if  and  when  the  New

Republic decided to make official contact with them.

Beside him, Mara cleared her throat. "Is any of this no doubt fascinating

conversation helping us get inside the High Tower?"

"Not really," Luke agreed,  pushing  the  glimpse  into  Qom  Qae  social

structure aside for now. Stepping to the yellow wall beneath where Splitter Of

Stones was sitting, he ran an exploring hand across the surface. If there  was

a hidden door there, it was very well hidden. "You think we should look for  a

release, or open it the easy way?"

Mara's answer was the snap-hiss of her lightsaber. "Get out of the  way,"

she said. "You, too, Qom Jha."

Splitter Of Stones fluttered hastily to one of the  wall  sconces.  Three

quick slashes, and Mara had a man-sized opening cut in  the  wall.  Lightsaber

held ready, she jumped into the gap and ducked to her right.  Luke  was  right

behind her, ducking to the left.

They were in a narrow passageway, no more than a meter and a half across,

which like the room behind them extended to the  right  beyond  the  range  of

their glow rods. In the other direction, the passageway ended in a wall only a

few meters away.

And leading up over their heads from that end was a set of stairs.

"Over here, Mara," Luke called quietly over his  shoulder  as  he  headed

that direction. The  stairs  were  narrow,  and  like  the  passageway  itself

extended past the range of his glow rod beam. Overhead to the  left  he  could

see just the hint of an angled and rising ceiling: another flight of steps, he

decided, probably connecting with this  set  at  some  unseen  landing  ahead.

Rising vertically along the inside edge of the stairway were a series of thick

cylinders that ran from below the level of the passageway up into the darkness

above.

"That's our way up, all right," Mara said from his side. "Uh-oh."

"What?" Luke asked, frowning as he stretched out with  the  Force.  There

was no danger he could detect.

"The stairs," Mara said, her glow rod  shining  downward  on  the  lowest

steps. "Now that looks like Hijarna building material."

Luke frowned down at it. "Any way to tell for sure?"

"A couple of blaster bolts ought to do it,"  she  said.  "But  the  noise

would probably travel farther than we'd  like.  Anyway,  at  the  moment  it's

irrelevant?we're not launching a full-scale assault on the place."

"Right?we're trying to sneak in," Luke agreed. "Looks like we'll have  to

go single file."

"I think we're all used to that by now," Mara said, playing her glow  rod

up and down the steps. "Reminds me of that secret passageway Palpatine had  in

the Imperial palace."

"Reminds me of the  service  shaft  in  Ilic  on  New  Cov,"  Luke  said,

remembering that long walk he and Han had taken up those stairs to  a  landing

area crawling with Imperials.

"You'd think just one  of  these  secret-stair-builders  would  have  the

courtesy to install a turbolift," Mara said, shaking her head. "Or at least  a

droid carrier."

"It would be nice," Luke agreed. "Well,  nothing  for  it  but  to  start

climbing.

Let's go."

* * *

With the narrow but relatively open  area  ahead  and  above  them,  Luke

decided to let Splitter Of Stones and his cadre of Qom  Jha  take  the  point,

flying up and ahead of them. Luke went next, carrying the droid for a  change,

leaving Mara and Child Of Winds to bring up the rear.

Mara had groused a little about that, arguing that she wasn't  tired  and

could handle the droid just fine. But Luke had  declared  the  staircase  safe

enough for him to take droid duty, and had ignored her complaints.

Not that she'd complained too hard  or  too  long.  The  droid  had  been

getting heavier and heavier lately, and she was just as glad to be rid of  the

burden for a while.

"Any idea what these are?" she asked Luke, running her fingertips  across

the first of the thick vertical cylinders as she passed it. From this position

on the stairs she could now see to the first landing, and a quick count showed

there were twenty of the cylinders rising through the gap.  "They  don't  look

like ventilation shafts."

The droid warbled. "Artoo says  they're  power  lines,"  Luke  told  her.

"Probably bringing energy to the High Tower from  that  big  power  source  he

picked up."

"That's one blazing lot of capacity," Mara  said,  eyeing  the  cylinders

uneasily.

"Are all twenty of them pulling power?"

The droid twittered again. "Only three are active at  the  moment,"  Luke

said. "But the others are still  functional.  Running  to  weapons  or  shield

generators, maybe?"

"I was just wondering that myself." Mara felt her lip twitch. "From  near

the mouth of the cave you can see three towers rising from the fortress: three

intact and one broken."

"Yes, I remember that from the record the Starry Ice brought back,"  Luke

said, his voice and emotions tight. "You suggested that the shot that took out

that tower might have also gouged out some of the ravine you flew in  through.

Is Hijarna stone that tough?"

"I don't know," Mara said grimly. "But Hijarna stone plus seventeen power

lines' worth of shield generators might do the trick."

Luke whistled softly, shaking his head. "You know, this place is starting

to look more and more impregnable by the minute. I don't think I like that."

"I'm sure  I  don't  like  it,"  Mara  retorted  grimly.  "Especially  in

potentially unfriendly hands. It'd be worse than Mount Tantiss."

They reached the landing and the expected switchback and continued on up.

For a while Mara tried to keep track of the stair count, but somewhere in  the

mid-two hundreds she gave up the exercise as useless.

They had passed the fourth landing when she began  to  detect  the  alien

presence.

She kept at the sensation for the next few minutes until  she  was  sure.

Then, as they started to round the fifth landing, she leaned over  and  caught

Luke's eye.

"Luke?" she murmured. "Company."

"I know," he murmured back. "I've been picking them up for a  while  now.

We must be getting close to the inhabited parts of the High Tower."

"The sensation seem at all familiar to you?"

"Very," he assured her. "They're the same species as the pilots who tried

to shoot me down on my way in."

"I've never gotten that close to any  of  this  particular  group,"  Mara

said, a sudden shiver running through her.  "But  I've  definitely  felt  this

sense before."

Luke seemed to brace himself. "Thrawn?"

She nodded. "Thrawn."

For a long moment they stood there in silence.  "Well,  you  called  it,"

Mara reminded him. "You said that might be a group of his people in there."

"It's starting to look that way," Luke said, looking up and waving toward

him. "Splitter Of Stones?"

There was a rustling of wings, and the Qom Jha fluttered to a landing  on

one of the stairs ahead of Luke. "You said there were places where  you  could

see or hear into the High Tower," Luke said. "How close are we to the  nearest

of those?"

Splitter Of Stones began to speak. Suddenly tired  of  this  second-class

status of hers, Mara reached over and took Luke's hand.

?not too far away, she heard the Qom Jha's voice  echoed  through  Luke's

mind. Two and a portion more turns.

"A portion?" Mara asked, frowning.

"The spot must be partway up one of the stairways," Luke  said,  glancing

at the cylinders running alongside them. "At least these  power  lines  should

help mask our life-form readings if anyone's looking. That's convenient."

"It also means Artoo won't be able to pick up much of anything,  either,"

Mara pointed out. "Not so convenient."

But that will surely not be a problem for you, Child Of Winds  spoke  up.

You have the Force.

"True," Luke agreed.

"Some of us more than others,  of  course,"  Mara  added,  suppressing  a

grimace. As he had on that trek across Wayland ten years ago,  Luke  had  been

giving her more or less nonstop Jedi instruction during the trip through these

caverns. But despite those efforts, she was apparently no  closer  to  hearing

this weird Force-driven communication of the Qom Jha and Qom  Qae  than  she'd

been when she first arrived on the planet.

And it was starting to bug her. It was starting to really bug  her.  What

did she have to do to break  through  this  invisible  barrier  to  full  Jedi

powers, anyway?

She didn't have an answer. Luke might, but she didn't. And there  was  no

way in the galaxy she was going to ask him. Not anytime soon, anyway.

Disgustedly, she let go of his hand. "Well, come on,"  she  growled.  "If

we're going to do this, let's do it."

"Right," Luke said. If he'd picked up on her sudden sour mood, he  didn't

comment on it. "Okay, Splitter Of Stones, let's go. And warn your people to be

especially quiet from this point on."

They resumed their climb, Mara followed along behind  Luke,  putting  one

foot in front of the other strictly on autopilot, her  full  attention  turned

outward as she stretched out to the alien presences growing  steadily  closer.

None seemed to be very close, but from past  experience  she  knew  that  with

unfamiliar alien minds apparent distances could be misleading.

Two and a third flights  of  stairs  later,  as  promised,  they  reached

Splitter Of Stones's observation post.

"That's an exit, all right," Mara muttered, peering into the alcove  that

opened off to the side of the stairway. Roughly  three  meters  wide  and  one

deep, it ended in a door-shaped panel made of  black  stone  equipped  with  a

locking wheel and a pair of hand-grip releases. In the center of the panel was

a tiny hole through which an equally tiny ray of reddish light shone  through.

"Looks like it swings outward."

"Yes," Luke murmured back, stepping into the alcove for  a  closer  look.

"Interesting, this locking wheel. Why lock it from this side?"

"Maybe it was for the exclusive use of certain high-ranking  parties  who

wanted everyone else kept out," Mara said, stretching out with the Force.  The

alien presence was still pervasive, but still muted. "If you want to give it a

try, this is probably as good a time as any."

"Right." For a moment Luke  held  his  face  against  the  door,  peering

through the peephole. Then, gripping the wheel, he turned it to the left.

Mara winced in anticipation,  but  the  screech  of  rusted  metal  she'd

expected didn't happen. In fact, the muted  sound  struck  her  as  more  like

pieces of polished stone sliding smoothly against each  other.  Luke  finished

turning the wheel, then took hold of the two grip releases. "Here we  go,"  he

muttered, and squeezed.

Whoever had designed the  self-lubrication  for  the  locking  wheel  had

apparently also designed the hinges. Again with only the faint rumble of stone

against stone, the door swung open.

Mara was through the opening before the  door  had  finished  its  swing,

blaster in hand, her senses stretched fully alert.

They were at the end of a fairly wide corridor, she saw,  that  stretched

for perhaps twenty meters before opening into an open, atriumlike area with  a

wide central pillar running vertically through  it  from  which  pale  reddish

light was streaming. Spaced along each side of the corridor were five recessed

doors, each flanked by two of  the  wall  sconces  that  they'd  seen  in  the

underground room below. Unlike those, though,  the  upper  sections  of  these

sconces were glowing with a muted white light, the illumination adding to  the

dimmer red coming from the pillar in the  atrium.  The  corridor's  floor  and

ceiling were covered in an intricate pattern of tiny interlocked tiles,  while

the walls were a contrasting plain silvery metal.

From the entryway behind her came a soft twitter.  "Artoo  says  the  red

light is the same spectrum as the sun," Luke said from her side. "Either we're

near the top or they're piping the light down here."

"I'd guess the latter," Mara said. "The decor's  a  surprise?the  Hijarna

fortress is nothing but plain black stone. Feel like a little reconnoiter?"

"Sure," Luke said. "Splitter  Of  Stones,  if  you  or  the  others  know

anything about the High Tower you haven't told us, this is the time to do it."

There were more of the Qom Jha chirps and almost-speech; and abruptly all

eight of them flapped past Mara and headed down  the  corridor.  Reaching  the

end, they split up and vanished off in different  directions.  "He  said  they

don't know anything more," Luke told Mara, "but that they're eager to learn."

"As long as they don't bring the locals down on us," Mara said,  flicking

off her glow rod and sliding it away into a  pocket.  "You'd  probably  better

leave the droid here."

"I was planning to," Luke said. "Artoo, get back in  the  alcove  out  of

sight and close the door. Child Of Winds?no, you stay here with Artoo."

There was an obvious complaint from the young Qom Qae.  "Not  now,"  Luke

said firmly. "Later, maybe, but not now. Come on, Mara."

They headed out along the corridor, Child Of Winds still  fussing  behind

them. "Looks like a residential area,"  Luke  commented,  nodding  toward  the

doors they were passing.

"Yes," Mara said, frowning at the central pillar they  were  approaching.

As they neared it she could see that it  was  shaped  like  a  giant  circular

stairway, except with a smooth ramp instead of a  staircase  spiraling  around

it. And the edge?"Is that ramp moving?"

"It does look like it," Luke said,  craning  his  neck.  "Like  a  spiral

slideway going up."

They reached the end of the corridor, and Mara eased an  eye  around  the

corner.

More corridors like the one they were in were visible, spreading out like

sunburst  rays  centered  on  the  open  area  around  the  spiral   slideway.

"Definitely a barracks section," she said. "I wonder where the down ramp is."

"It's on the inside half of the up ramp," Luke said, pointing.  "See?that

inner section is going down?"

"I see it." Mara nodded. "Must be tricky getting across the up ramp  when

you want to get off."

"We'll probably get a chance to try it," Luke  said,  stepping  close  to

Mara and putting his arm around her shoulder. She frowned at him,  opened  her

mouth to ask what he was doing?

?no one, Keeper Of Promises's voice came as the Qom  Jha  fluttered  into

sight from one of the other corridors. Some  of  the  other  passages  end  in

walls, but most continue on into other such caverns.

"Did you see anyone?" Mara asked.

We saw no one, Keeper Of Promises said in the  slightly  miffed  tone  of

someone who's been asked a question he's already answered.

"Thank you." Luke tilted his head to look at Mara. "What do you want?  Up

or down?"

"Up,"  Mara  said,  easing  away  from  him.  It  was  always  a   little

disconcerting to look at someone whose face  was  barely  fifteen  centimeters

away. "All the command rooms and other interesting stuff at  Hijarna  were  on

the upper floors."

"Up it is," Luke said, releasing his grip on  her  and  crossing  to  the

spiral slideway. "Looks clear," he  added,  looking  cautiously  up  into  the

opening as Mara joined him. "You picking up any danger?"

"No more than I have been for the past ten minutes,"  Mara  said.  "Sure,

let's try it."

"Right." Luke waved at  Keeper  Of  Promises.  "Come  on,  Qom  Jha?we're

heading up."

They stepped onto the  outer  section  of  the  slideway,  both  of  them

stumbling slightly as their bodies were  forced  to  catch  up  with  suddenly

moving feet. "It definitely feels like we're getting closer  to  the  aliens,"

Luke commented as the group of Qom Jha flapped past on their way to  the  next

level. "I just wish I had a better benchmark for the species."

"Yes, it'd be nice to know how close they actually  were,"  Mara  agreed,

watching above them as the Qom Jha split  up  again  and  headed  off  in  all

directions. One of the reinforcements?Flyer Through Spikes,  Mara  tentatively

identified  him?reappeared  overhead  as  she  and  Luke  reached  the  level,

jabbering away. "He says they've found no one up here, either," Luke reported.

"Splitter Of Stones has suggested?"

The flare of her danger sense was Mara's only warning. "Luke!"

"Down!" Luke snapped, igniting his lightsaber.

Mara was already dropping to one knee, spinning around as  her  eyes  and

blaster searched for a target. A movement just inside  one  of  the  corridors

caught her eye?she tracked her blaster toward it?

And abruptly the world exploded into a flash of brilliant blue.

Instinctively, she ducked away from the bolt, her blaster spitting return

fire.

Another blue flash changed to green as Luke's lightsaber  slashed  across

it, deflecting the bolt across the room. There was another blue  flash,  again

caught by the lightsaber blade. Mara fired  twice,  had  the  satisfaction  of

seeing the half-hidden gunman duck back?

"Behind you!" Luke barked.

Mara dropped from her kneeling crouch to land flat on her stomach on  the

ramp, twisting around to face the other direction as she did so. Two burgundy-

uniformed gunmen were visible back there, sprinting from the end of one of the

corridors toward the protection of something that looked like a small  service

vehicle. She fired two shots?missed with both?

And abruptly one of the gunmen stopped dead in his  tracks,  raising  his

weapon toward her in a two-handed grip. Mara tracked her blaster toward him, a

small part of her mind noting the blue skin of his  face  and  hands  and  the

glowing red eyes glaring out at her?

"Watch out!"

But the warning came too late. Even as Mara fired again and then  twisted

around to search out the new threat there was another flash of blue?

And a lance of agony jabbed into her right shoulder.

She might have gasped in pain; she wouldn't remember  later  whether  she

had or not. But suddenly Luke was crouching on the slideway  beside  her,  his

surge of fear dimly sensed through the waves of pain  hammering  at  her.  His

hand briefly probed the area of the wound, and she could feel  the  pain  ease

somewhat as the Force flowed from him into  her.  "What  do  you  think?"  she

managed through clenched teeth. "We seen enough for this pass?"

"Sounds good to me," he  said,  his  lightsaber  humming  angrily  as  he

swatted more of the blue blasts.

"Then?"

She blinked in surprise. Above her was the edge of one  of  the  fortress

floors; but it was pulling up and away from her. Even now, she could see, they

were coming down to the level they'd started from. "How'd we get to  the  down

part of the slideway?" she asked.

"You rolled onto it when you were hit," he told her,  shifting  his  hand

from her neck  to  a  supporting  grip  cradling  her  shoulders.  "Don't  you

remember?"

She shook her head. The movement sent a fresh surge of agony through  her

shoulder. "Combat reflex, I guess. Wait?my blaster!"

"It's all right?Keeper Of Promises  picked  it  up,"  Luke  assured  her,

shutting down his lightsaber. He half rose from his crouch, and she could feel

herself also rising in the eerily intangible grip of the Force. "Here we go."

The level they'd  come  in  on  was  starting  to  move  past  them  now.

Stretching out to the Force, carrying Mara with him, Luke leaped over  the  up

section of the slideway to land on the solid floor  beyond.  Cradling  her  in

both arms, he hurried down the corridor toward their hidden door.

"Look, I can walk on my own," Mara growled,  glancing  back  over  Luke's

shoulder as he ran. Some of the Qom Jha were visible coming  up  behind  them,

but so far there was no sign of other pursuit. "You don't have to carry me?"

"Don't argue," Luke bit out, his mind frothing with concern and worry. "I

just hope Artoo didn't lock the door?ah."

Ahead, the door was swinging ponderously open toward them, pushed  by  an

obviously straining Child Of  Winds.  Trying  to  work  past  her  pain,  Mara

stretched out to the door with the Force, giving him as much assistance as she

could manage. The droid, rolling forward to help,  squawked  in  surprise  and

hastily backed up just in time as Luke and Mara charged in, followed  by  four

of the Qom Jha.

Seal the door, Mara heard Splitter Of Stones's order through Luke's  mind

as the Qom Jha flapped madly to a halt.

"What about the others?" Luke asked as two of the Qom Jha landed  on  the

hand grips and began tugging.

They have gone into the other passages, Splitter  Of  Stones  said.  They

will try to lead the Threateners away from this area.

"We can hope," Luke said as the door swung back  into  place.  "Seal  the

door?I'm going to take Mara down to that last landing."

"No?go up," Mara said, digging out her glow rod with  her  left  hand  as

Luke started down the stairs. "If they find the door, they'll probably  assume

we went down."

"Makes sense," Luke agreed, turning and heading up. "Artoo, you make sure

they get it sealed and then stand guard."

A minute later they'd reached the landing.  "I  wish  we  still  had  our

bedrolls," Luke said as he laid her carefully down on the cold stone and  took

the glow rod from her. "How does it feel?"

"Like someone's roasting an Ewok in there," Mara told him. "Not as bad as

it was, though. Is that a pain-suppression trick you're using on me?"

"For what it's worth," Luke said, sticking the glow rod between his teeth

and stripping off his jacket. "It's not nearly as effective on someone else as

it is on yourself," he added, talking around the glow rod as  he  bunched  the

jacket and slid it under her head as a pillow.

"I knew there was something else I should have stuck around  the  academy

long enough to learn," she said, hissing between her teeth  as  Luke  set  the

glow rod down on her chest and began carefully pulling  the  burned  edges  of

cloth away from the wound. "I don't suppose you offer a crash course."

"I usually like to ease into that lesson a little more gradually." Luke's

lip twitched. "Ouch."

Mara looked down at her shoulder, and immediately wished  she  hadn't.  "

'Ouch' doesn't even begin to cover it," she told him, feeling a little sick as

she resolutely turned her eyes away. The burn was a  lot  nastier  than  she'd

guessed.

"I think I've just decided I'm going to miss the medpac more  than  I  am

the bedrolls."

"Don't give up just yet," Luke soothed. His  fingers  were  stroking  the

skin of her shoulder and neck; and as they did so the pain again decreased. "I

know a couple more tricks."

"That feels good," Mara said, closing her eyes.

"I'm putting you into  a  healing  trance,"  Luke  explained,  his  voice

sounding oddly distant. "It can be  a  little  slow,  but  sometimes  it's  as

effective as a bacta tank."

"I hope this is one of those times,"  Mara  murmured.  Suddenly  she  was

feeling very tired. "Yet another wonderful Jedi trick you'll have to teach  me

sometime.

'Night, Luke. Don't forget to wake me if the bad guys crash the party."

* * *

"Good night, Mara," Luke  said  softly.  Softly,  and  uselessly?she  was

already sound asleep.

Is she going to die? an anxious voice asked from beside him.

Engrossed in Mara's injury and the setting up of the healing  trance,  he

hadn't noticed Child Of Winds's arrival. Some Master Jedi. "No, she'll be  all

right," he  said.  "The  wound  isn't  dangerous,  and  I  have  some  healing

abilities."

Child Of Winds sidled a little closer, peering with  unblinking  eyes  at

the woman stretched out at Luke's side. Was it my fault, Jedi Sky  Walker?  he

asked at last.

Did I not open the door quickly enough?

"No, not at all," Luke assured him. "It had absolutely nothing to do with

you."

Then it was the Qom Jha who failed you.

Luke frowned at the  young  Qom  Qae.  Given  the  annoyingly  persistent

rivalry between the two groups, he would have expected a note of  condemnation

or at least lofty superiority in Child Of  Winds's  judgment.  But  there  was

nothing there but regret and sadness. "Perhaps," Luke said. "But  it  may  not

really be their fault, either. The Threateners may have detected  our  arrival

and put together an ambush. And don't forget that cave-dwellers like  the  Qom

Jha probably don't see as well in lighted rooms as you or I would."

Child Of Winds seemed to consider that. If the Threateners laid a  snare,

they may enter this place to search for you.

"They might," Luke agreed. "If they even know about it, of  course.  They

might not?all the dust in here would indicate it hasn't been used for quite  a

while."

Still, they may know even if they do not use,  Child  Of  Winds  reminded

him. Your friend-machine and the Qom Jha watch  and  wait  below.  Should  not

someone also watch and wait above?

"That's a good idea," Luke agreed. "Go tell Splitter Of Stones I want him

to send two of his hunters to stand watch at the next stairway exit above us."

I will obey, the Qom Qae said, stretching out his wings. But he will need

send only one hunter. I will go myself to watch with him.

Luke opened his mouth to object; closed it again. Child Of Winds had been

chafing under the casual contempt of the Qom Jha ever since they'd reached the

cave. This was something useful he could do  that  probably  wouldn't  be  too

dangerous. "All right, Child Of Winds. Thank you."

There are no thanks needed, Child Of Winds said. It is only what is right

for me to do for the Jedi Sky Walker. He cocked his head for one final look at

Mara.

And for his beloved companion.

Spreading his wings, he flapped away into the darkness of  the  stairway,

leaving that last  comment  echoing  uncomfortably  in  Luke's  mind.  Beloved

companion.

Companion. Beloved...

He looked down  at  Mara,  her  familiar  features  thrown  into  starkly

contrasting areas of light and shadow by the beam of the glow rod. Beloved...

"No," he murmured to himself. No. He liked  Mara,  certainly.  Liked  her

very much.

She was smart and resourceful, with a mental and emotional  toughness  he

could rely on, plus a sharp humor and irreverence that made for  a  refreshing

contrast with the automatic and unthinking awe too many  people  held  him  in

these days.

She'd been a trusted ally through some very  hard  and  dangerous  times,

sticking with him and Han and Leia  even  when  the  rest  of  a  hostile  New

Republic hierarchy had declared her untrustworthy.

And perhaps most important of all, she was  strong  and  capable  in  the

Force, with the ability to share his thoughts and emotions in a way that  even

a couple as close as Han and Leia couldn't experience.

But he wouldn't love her. He couldn't take that risk. Every time  in  the

past that he had allowed himself the luxury of  caring  that  deeply  about  a

woman something terrible  had  happened  to  her.  Gaeriel  had  been  killed.

Callista had lost her Jedi  abilities  and  finally  left  him.  The  list  of

tragedies sometimes seemed endless.

Still, if Mara's theory was right, all of those  disasters  had  happened

while he was still under the lingering effects of  his  brush  with  the  dark

side. Would things be different now? Could they be different?

He shook his head firmly. No. He could try all the logic  in  the  world?

could come up with reason after reason why he could perhaps allow  himself  to

have feelings like that again. But not now. Not with Mara.

Because hanging like a dark specter over all of this was  the  memory  of

that vision he'd had barely a month ago on Tierfon. The vision where he'd seen

Han and Leia in danger from a mob; where he'd seen Wedge and Corran and  Rogue

Squadron in the heat of battle;  where  he'd  seen  himself  on  the  Cejansij

balcony from which he would later be taken to Talon Karrde and learn of Mara's

disappearance.

And  where  he'd  seen  Mara  surrounded  by  craggy  rock  and  floating

motionlessly in a pool of water. Her eyes closed; her arms and legs  limp.  As

if in death.

He gazed down at her again, a quiet ache in his heart. Perhaps  that  was

her destiny, an end to her life that he could do nothing to prevent. But until

that was proved, he would tear his own life apart if necessary to  prevent  it

from happening. And if part of that sacrifice was  to  keep  her  out  of  the

shadow of destructive dark side influence he had had on so many  others,  then

that was a sacrifice he would have to make.

But for now what she needed most was to be healed. And that would take no

sacrifice, merely time and attention. "Good night," he said again, knowing she

couldn't hear him. On impulse, he leaned over and kissed  her  gently  on  the

lips.

Then, stretching out on the cold stone next to her, he  rested  his  head

beside hers on a corner of his folded jacket and laid his arm across her chest

where his fingertips could touch the area around her burned  shoulder.  Easing

himself into a sort of half trance to aid in concentration, he  stretched  out

to the Force and set to work.

CHAPTER

18

It took a few minutes' searching, but Wedge finally found the others at a

small, open-air tapcafe half a block down from the space traffic  registration

office. "There you are," he said a little accusingly as he  dropped  into  the

third seat at the table.

"What's the problem?" Moranda  asked,  sipping  at  the  pale  blue-green

liqueur that had been her constant tapcafe companion  ever  since  they'd  met

her. "I told you we'd be down the street here."

"You're right?I should have guessed where exactly  down  the  street  you

meant," Wedge countered, throwing a  sour  look  at  her  drink.  "Aren't  you

starting a little early in the day?"

"What, this?" Moranda asked, lifting the glass and turning  it  this  way

and that in the morning sunlight. "This is nothing. Anyway, you wouldn't be so

heartless as to deny an old woman one of the last remaining pleasures  of  her

declining years, would you?"

"That 'old woman' excuse is  starting  to  wear  a  little  thin."  Wedge

shifted his attention to Corran and the aromatic mug  he  was  cradling.  "And

what's your excuse?"

Corran shrugged. "I'm just keeping her company. I take it  the  incoming-

ship search went badly?"

"It didn't go at all," Wedge growled, glaring at Corran's mug.  Now  that

he thought about it, a drink actually sounded  pretty  good.  But  after  that

rather self-righteous tirade he could hardly beckon a  droid  over  and  order

something himself?

There was a movement at his side, and a mechanical hand set a mug down on

the table in front of him, spilling a few drops first in the ancient  annoying

Bothan custom. "What's this?" he asked.

"We ordered it when we saw you coming down  the  street,"  Moranda  said.

"Figured that after dealing with Bothan bureaucracy  you'd  want  something  a

little stronger than hot chocolate."

Wedge grimaced. So much for the grand mystique of command.  "Thanks,"  he

said, taking a sip.

"So what happened?" Moranda asked. "They wouldn't let  you  look  at  the

records for incoming ships?"

"Not without fifteen forms  of  authorization,"  Wedge  told  her.  "It's

crazy.

Doubly crazy given that everything on those lists is technically a matter

of public record. If I wanted to sit at the spaceport and write down the names

of every ship as it came in, I could do it."

"They're getting nervous," Corran murmured, swirling  his  mug.  "Worried

that Vengeance might start taking potshots at their best customers."

"Whatever, there's no point in kicking against  a  bureaucracy,"  Moranda

said. "Let's think this through logically."

Wedge waved a hand in invitation. "We're listening."

"All right." Moranda took a sip of her drink. "I think we can  all  agree

that if someone is after the Drev'starn shield generator, a frontal assault is

out.

Unless they brought a portable proton torpedo launcher  with  them,  that

building is far too well protected."

"Which means they'll have to rely on subterfuge," Corran agreed.  "Fairly

obvious so far."

"Don't rush me," Moranda admonished him. "Now, we can  also  assume  they

won't be able to suborn any of the techs or other people who work inside.  But

how about planting something on one of them?"

"You mean like a bomb?" Wedge asked doubtfully. "I doubt it. That's a big

area down there. Any bomb strong enough to do  any  serious  damage  would  be

easily detected."

"Besides, if they have any brains at all, they have  the  workers  change

clothes before they go into the actual generator areas," Corran  added.  "That

also protects against spy monitors being slipped onto anyone."

"So  the  workers  are  out,"  Moranda  said.  "What  about  the  various

underground conduits that bring in power and water?"

"There aren't any water conduits," Wedge said  thoughtfully.  "Water  and

food  are  supposedly  brought  in  from  outside   and   triple-scanned   for

contaminants."  He  looked  at  Corran.  "Power,  though,  is  another  matter

entirely."

"You might be onto something," Corran agreed, frowning as he drummed  his

fingers softly on the table. "Each shield generator is supposed  to  have  its

own self-contained power supply. But it's referred  to  as  a  backup  supply,

which implies the primary power source comes in from the outside."

"Where are you getting all this stuff from, by the way?"  Moranda  asked.

"Not Bothan propaganda, I hope."

"No, we pulled it from New Republic  military  files,"  Wedge  told  her.

"Unfortunately, what we had was a little skimpy on details."

"Typical Bothan paranoiac  closemouthness,"  Moranda  grunted.  "I  don't

suppose you'd have any idea where exactly the conduits are located."

"Not even a guess," Wedge told her.

"Well, that's our second order of business, then," Moranda said. "Getting

the complete schematics of that building."

Corran cocked an eyebrow. "I hope you're not  expecting  the  Bothans  to

just give them to us."

Moranda snorted. "Of course not," she said. "That's why it's  our  second

order of business. We can't  very  well  go  visit  the  construction  records

building during the day."

Wedge exchanged looks with Corran. "The building's only open  during  the

day," he pointed out carefully.

"That's right," Moranda said, smiling encouragingly. "You catch on fast."

Wedge looked at Corran again. "Corran?"

The other made a face, but then he shrugged. "We do have our orders,"  he

reminded Wedge. "And this isn't just to protect the Bothans, remember."

"I suppose," Wedge said reluctantly. So much for the mystique of command;

so much for command at all. Still, Moranda was  making  sense.  Unfortunately.

"So if that's the second order of business, what's the first?"

"I thought we'd go pull the records for  the  last  few  days'  worth  of

outgoing transmissions," Moranda said. "If Vengeance  is  plotting  something,

their group here probably has to report in every now and again."

Wedge felt his mouth drop open. "You want to go check message traffic? Do

you have any idea how much of that there is from this planet?"

"That's exactly why they won't worry about it," Moranda said  cheerfully.

"They'll figure no one would be crazy enough to bother sifting through it all.

"

"Present company excepted, obviously."

"Well, of course." Moranda held up a hand. "Now, wait a minute, it's  not

as bad as  it  sounds.  We  can  cut  out  all  transmissions  from  major  or

established corporations?even if one of them was involved, they wouldn't  send

out anything under their own name.  We  can  also  cut  out  any  nonencrypted

messages, and we can cut out any message over, say, fifty words. That ought to

give us something manageable."

Wedge frowned. "Why everything over fifty words?"

"The shorter the message, the harder it is to decrypt," Corran explained,

sounding as dubious as Wedge felt. "One of the things I learned in CorSec.  My

question is, if we aren't going to be able to read it, why bother looking  for

it in the first place?"

"To find out where it's going, of course,"  Moranda  said,  draining  the

last of her liqueur. "The guys at this end can be as cagey as they  want;  but

if they've got a sloppy contact down the line, we can still nail them. All  we

need is a likely system and I can call Karrde's people down on them from  that

end."

"It still sounds crazy," Wedge declared, looking at Corran. "What do  you

think?"

"It's no crazier than breaking into  the  construction  records  building

after hours," Corran pointed out.

"Thanks for the reminder," Wedge sighed. "Sure, let's give it  a  try.  I

just hope the computer on our shuttle is up to a job like this."

"If not, the one on my ship can handle it," Moranda assured him,  getting

to her feet. "Come on, let's get moving."

* * *

"Captain?"

Nalgol turned away from the unremitting blackness hanging in front of the

Imperial Star Destroyer Tyrannic. "Yes?"

"Relay spark from the strike team, sir," Intelligence Chief Oissan  said,

coming to a parade-ground halt and handing the captain a datapad. "I'm  afraid

you're not going to like it."

"Really," Nalgol said, giving Oissan a long, hard look  as  he  took  the

datapad.

Given the Tyrannic's blindness  out  here,  it  was  unarguably  nice  to

receive these brief reports from the Imperial Intelligence strike team on  the

Bothawui surface.

But on the other hand, any secret transmission,  even  an  innocuous  one

sent to an unobtrusive relay buoy, simply gave the enemy one  more  handle  to

latch on to.

And for that potentially dangerous transmission to contain bad news...

The message was, as always, brief. Now ten days to  completion  of  flash

point.

Will keep timetable updated.

"Ten days?" Nalgol transferred his glare  from  the  datapad  to  Oissan.

"What is this ten days nonsense? The report two days ago said it would only be

six days."

"I don't know, sir," Oissan said. "All messages to us  have  to  be  kept

short?"

"Yes, I know," Nalgol cut him off, glowering at the  datapad  again.  Ten

more days in this clytarded blindness. Just exactly  what  the  crew  of  this

twitchy ship needed. "They just blazing well better be keeping Bastion  better

informed than they are us."

"I'm sure they are, Captain," Oissan said. "Paradoxically, perhaps,  it's

much safer to send out a long transmission on a commercial frequency  via  the

HoloNet than it is to send a short-range spark to us out here."

"I'm fairly well versed in communications theory, thank you," Nalgol said

icily.

A prudent man, he reflected darkly, would have found  a  way  to  beat  a

hasty retreat after delivering news like this. Either Oissan wasn't as prudent

as Nalgol had always assumed, or he was twitchy enough himself to be  spoiling

for a fight with his captain.

Or else this was part of a private evaluation  of  his  captain's  mental

state.

And much as he would like to deny it, Nalgol had to admit  this  idleness

and isolation were getting on his nerves, too. "I was  simply  concerned  that

the delay not upset  Bastion's  master  plan,"  he  told  the  other,  forcing

calmness into his voice. "I also wish I knew how in blazes they could lose six

whole days out of a two-month timetable."

Oissan shrugged. "Without knowing what exactly their job is down there, I

can't even hazard a guess," he said reasonably. "As it is, we'll just have  to

rely on their judgment." He  lifted  his  eyebrows  slightly.  "And  on  Grand

Admiral Thrawn's own genius, of course."

"Of course," Nalgol murmured. "The question is whether  all  those  armed

hotheads around Bothawui will be able to hold off another ten days before they

start shooting. What's the warship count up to, anyway?"

"The latest probe ship report is in that file, sir," Oissan said, nodding

toward the datapad. "But I believe the current number is one hundred twelve."

"A hundred and twelve?" Nalgol echoed,  frowning  as  he  pulled  up  the

report.

There it was: a hundred and twelve. "This can't be right," he insisted.

"It is, sir," Oissan assured him. "Thirty-one new warships have come  in,

apparently all in the past ten hours."

Nalgol scanned the list. A nicely matched set, too:  fourteen  pro-Bothan

Diamalan and D'farian ships to seventeen anti-Bothan Ishori  ships.  "This  is

unbelievable," he said, shaking his head. "Don't these  aliens  have  anything

better to do?"

Oissan snorted under his breath. "From the news reports the  probe  ships

have been bringing in, it's only because most of the New  Republic  does  have

better things to do that we haven't been buried by three times as many ships,"

he said.

"But don't worry. I have faith in the New  Republic's  diplomatic  corps.

I'm sure they'll keep things calm until we're ready to move."

"I hope so," Nalgol said softly, turning to gaze  out  at  the  blackness

again.

Because after all this waiting, if he didn't get a  clear  shot  at  this

alien-loving Rebel scum, he was going to be very angry.

Very angry, indeed.

* * *

The annoyingly cheery door chime of the Exoticalia Pet Emporium rang, and

Navett stepped in through the back-room doorway to see  Klif  close  the  door

behind him.

"Business is booming, I see," he commented, glancing around the customer-

free store as he walked between the rows  of  caged  animals  to  the  service

counter.

"Just the way I like it," Navett said, leaning an elbow  on  the  counter

and gesturing the other to a chair. "You get those messages off?"

"Yeah." Klif circled behind him and dropped into one of the seats. "But I

don't think any of them are going to like it."

Navett shrugged. "They can join the club. It's going to  be  awkward  for

us, too, you know?we're going to have to delay the  delivery  date  for  those

three mawkrens.

But there's not a lot any of us can do about it. It was the Bothans' idea

to start keeping their techs locked in the shield building for six days  at  a

time, not ours."

"Yeah," Klif said heavily. "I suppose we can't be expected  to  send  our

little time bombs in with the next shift any earlier than the next shift  goes

on duty."

"Don't worry about it," Navett soothed him. "Our cover is plenty  secure,

and it won't hurt Horvic and Pensin to  wash  dishes  for  the  Ho'Din  awhile

longer. We can hover an extra six days without any trouble."

"Maybe not," Klif said darkly. "Guess who I spotted at  the  comm  center

while I was checking for messages."

Navett felt his eyes narrow. "Not our two New Rep military types?"

"In the skin and twice as pompous." Klif nodded. "And they  had  company:

some old woman in a hooded cloak who seemed to know her way around better than

they did.

A fringe type, no doubt about it."

Navett scratched his cheek. "You  think  she's  the  one  who  got  their

wallets back from the Bothan lifters?"

"Well, they had their wallets with them," Klif said. "So I'd  say,  yeah,

she's probably the one."

"Um." New Rep military types with a  fringe  lifter.  Interesting.  "Were

they picking up or delivering?"

"Neither," Klif told him. "They were  pulling  a  list  of  all  outgoing

transmissions for the past five days."

"Interesting,"  Navett  said,  drumming  his  fingers   gently   on   the

countertop. "Analysis?"

"They're on to us," Klif growled. "Or at least, they know someone's here.

" He lifted an eyebrow. "And they suspect it has to  do  with  the  Drev'starn

shield generator, or they wouldn't have spent  so  much  time  hanging  around

there."

"Recommendation?"

"We vape them," Klif said bluntly. "Tonight."

Navett shifted his eyes past him to the display window across the  store,

gazing at the hundreds of pedestrians and dozens of  vehicles  hurrying  past.

Drev'starn was an immensely busy city,  made  all  the  more  frantic  by  the

presence of those warships overhead. Humans and aliens rushing around all over

the place... "No," he said slowly. "No, they're not on to us.  Not  yet.  They

suspect something is in the works, but they don't know for sure. No, our  best

plan right now is to lay low and not let them draw us out."

Klif's lips puckered, but he nodded reluctantly. "I still don't like  it,

but you're the boss. Maybe all they're  trying  to  do  is  get  a  handle  on

Vengeance; and they're not going to look for a group that big in a little  pet

store."

"Good point," Navett agreed. "We could even consider staging another riot

for their benefit if they seem to be  getting  too  close.  If  you're  up  to

another performance, that is."

Klif shrugged. "Two riots on Bothawui might  be  pushing  our  luck,"  he

said. "But I can get one going if we have to."

Across the room, one of the animals squawked twice and then  fell  silent

again.

Probably one of the pregnant mawkrens, Navett decided, muttering  in  her

sleep.

He'd better get those injections started if he didn't want a mess of tiny

lizards running around underfoot six days before he needed them. "I just  wish

we knew who our opponents were," he commented.

"Maybe we can find out," Klif said, pulling out a  datapad.  "I  followed

them back to the spaceport and their ship. A surplused Sydon MRX-BR  Pacifier,

as it turns out."

Navett grimaced. The Pacifier had been  the  Empire's  scout  vehicle  of

choice, able to seek out new worlds and deliver a devastating pounding to them

if it proved necessary. Considered by the New Republic to be  too  provocative

for the delicate sensitivities of frightened primitives, their  use  had  been

summarily discontinued. Just one more reminder, if  he'd  needed  it,  of  how

badly things had been falling apart since Endor. "You get a name?"

"And a registration code," Klif said, handing him the datapad. "It's  the

woman's ship, unfortunately?she was the one who unlocked it?but we might still

be able to backcheck them through it."

"Excellent," Navett said as he took the datapad. "The Fingertip  Express,

eh?

Sounds like a lifter's ship, all right. A smart-mouth name for  a  smart-

mouth lifter."

He handed the datapad back. "There  should  be  a  Bureau  of  Ships  and

Services office somewhere in Drev'starn. Find it and see what you can pull up.

"

* * *

"Aha," Moranda said from her ship's tiny computer  alcove.  "Well,  well,

well."

Sitting in the lounge just off the alcove, Wedge  turned  his  eyes  away

from the expensive contour sculp on the wall in front of him, and his thoughts

away from contemplation of how Moranda might have come into possession of such

a prize. "You found something?" he asked.

"Could be," Corran said. Arms crossed and leaning against the wall,  he'd

been watching over Moranda's shoulder for the past two hours. "Three messages,

all short and encrypted, have gone out in the past five days." He looked  over

at Wedge. "The last one just this morning."

"What time this morning?" Wedge asked, getting to his feet  and  crossing

to the others.

"About ten minutes before we got there," Moranda  said,  peering  at  the

display. "I guess we shouldn't have lingered over that drink. Too bad."

Wedge grimaced, a bad taste in his mouth. Too bad wasn't the half of  it.

With Corran and his Jedi skills along, they might actually have been  able  to

identify and tag the sender if they'd been there in time.

If. "Where were the transmissions headed?"

"Toward Eislomi sector," Moranda said. "Specifically, in the direction of

the Eislomi III HoloNet relay station."

Wedge suppressed a sigh. "In other words, a dead end."

"Looks like it."

"Still, if they've already sent three messages, they  might  send  more,"

Corran pointed out. His voice was calm and controlled, without  any  trace  of

the frustration and disappointment Wedge knew he must  also  be  feeling  over

this near-miss.

"If worse comes to worst, we could always stake out the place."

"A waste of time," Moranda sniffed. "If they've got any  brains  at  all,

they'll spot a loiterer upwind from sixty paces away with their eyes closed."

"That depends on how the loitering is done,"  Corran  countered  stiffly.

"And on who's doing it."

"What, you?" Moranda scoffed, looking him up and down. "Right.  Like  you

wouldn't stand out like a stormtrooper at an Ewok roast."

"I thought it was like a Wookiee at a Noghri family reunion."

"No, no?you're versatile enough to do both."

"Oh, thank you," Corran growled. "Thank you very much."

"Both of you simmer down," Wedge interrupted  sternly.  "Corran's  right,

Moranda?he's exceptionally good at stakeouts. However, Moranda's  right,  too,

Corran?we  don't  have  the  time  or  the  troops  to  cover   all   outgoing

transmissions, even if we were sure they'd use the same center again."

"At least we now know for sure that someone's  operating  here,"  Moranda

offered.

"That's something."

"Not much, though," Corran muttered.

"It occurs to me, though," Wedge said, raising his voice,  "that  there's

still one route we  haven't  tried.  Assuming  Vengeance  isn't  homegrown?and

considering its anti-Bothan sentiment, I think we can assume that?they'll have

to have found some place local to set up shop. Question: where?"

Moranda snapped her  fingers.  "A  business.  Has  to  be  some  kind  of

business."

"She's right," Corran agreed, his  frustration  and  miffed  professional

pride suddenly forgotten. "An apartment wouldn't work?too risky to  have  lots

of people coming and going at odd hours. With a business, you can always cover

it as deliveries or cleanup crews."

"And working for someone else doesn't give you enough  privacy  when  you

need it," Moranda added. "And it'll have to be something fairly  recently  set

up, and probably as close to the shield generator building as they can get."

"My  thoughts  exactly,"  Wedge  said.  "And  since  we  can't  hit   the

construction records building until later anyway...?"

"What are we waiting for?" Corran demanded, detaching  himself  from  the

wall and heading for the hatchway. "Someone in Drev'starn must have a list  of

all new businesses. Let's go find him."

CHAPTER

19

"No," Captain Ardiff said,  jabbing  his  fork  for  emphasis.  "I  don't

believe it.

Not for a minute."

"What about the news reports?" Colonel Bas  countered.  "Even  stuck  out

here we've pulled in, what, five of them? If  this  thing's  a  hoax,  it's  a

kriffing good one.

If you'll pardon the language, sir," he  added  belatedly,  looking  with

some embarrassment at Pellaeon.

"Language pardoned, Colonel," Pellaeon said, suppressing a smile. Bas had

clawed his way up through the TIE pilot ranks to become the Chimaera's fighter

commander; and though he tried hard to fit in with the generally more cultured

men who made up the officer corps, the  saltier  language  of  his  youth  did

periodically intrude.

Personally, Pellaeon rather liked that. Not the expletives  per  se,  but

the  fact  that  the  man's  language  was  an  outward  sign  of  honest  and

straightforward opinions or emotions. Unlike some Pellaeon had dealt with, Bas

seldom if ever tried to hide his thoughts or feelings behind polite slip-talk.

"They're rumors, Colonel?that's all,"  Ardiff  said,  shaking  his  head.

"Face the facts: Thrawn died. Admiral Pellaeon was there to see  it.  Now,  if

that was some trick?"

Pellaeon lowered his eyes to his plate and forked  another  bite  of  the

braised bruallki, mentally tuning out the discussion. It was the same  endless

argument, with the same opinions and speculations, that had been  playing  its

way around the ship in the week since Lieutenant Mavron had returned with  the

story of Thrawn's supposed appearance in the  Kroctar  system.  Everyone  from

Ardiff on down had his own opinion on whether or not it was true, none of them

could prove their opinion to anyone else, and the entire  ship  was  about  as

tense as an overwound throwbow.

But the waiting, at least, was about  to  come  to  an  end.  He'd  given

General Bel Iblis a full month and a half to make his plans, and the  Chimaera

itself had been here at Pesitiin for two weeks. Clearly, for whatever  reason,

Bel Iblis wasn't coming.

And it was time to go home. To return to the Empire, and to Bastion. And,

on several levels, to find out what exactly Moff Disra was  up  to.  He  would

give the order to prepare for departure as soon as he was  finished  with  his

meal. If Bel Iblis didn't arrive in the hour after that?

"Admiral Pellaeon, Captain Ardiff, this is the  bridge,"  Major  Tschel's

voice came from the mess table speaker. "Report, please."

Ardiff got to the switch first. "Captain here," he said.  "The  Admiral's

with me.

What is it?"

"A ship's just entered the system, sir," Tschel said, his voice tight.

Ardiff flashed Pellaeon a  sharp  look.  "A  repeat  performance  by  our

pirates?"

"I don't think so, sir," Tschel said. "So far,  at  least,  it's  only  a

single ship: YT-1300 light freighter, minimally armed. They're transmitting  a

request to come aboard and speak with the Admiral."

Pellaeon  took  a  deep  breath.  "Is  there  a  name  attached  to   the

transmission?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Tschel said. "She claims to be New  Republic  High  Councilor

Leia Organa Solo."

* * *

With the four TIE fighters riding escort positions on  both  flanks,  the

Falcon rose up out of sight of the distant sun, up into the shadow of the Star

Destroyer's hangar bay. "We're committed now," Elegos  said  softly  from  the

seat beside Leia.

"Yes," Leia agreed, her hands resting on the controls,  watching  as  the

Chimaera's tractor beam reeled them steadily into itself. "We are indeed."

"Does that disturb you?" the Caamasi asked. "What are you thinking?"

Leia shrugged, a quick movement of tense shoulders.  "On  one  level,  of

course it disturbs me," she told him. "Risks are always something  a  rational

being prefers to avoid. But not all risks are bad. All in all, this is a  good

risk."

She half turned and tried  a  smile.  "As  to  the  other  part  of  your

question, I was just thinking that if Threepio were  here,  he'd  probably  be

saying 'We're doomed' about now."

Elegos chuckled, a uniquely Caamasi sound. "Very good," he said. "I  have

not known much about you, Councilor, save what I  have  read  and  heard  from

others.

This voyage, short though it has  been,  has  been  greatly  instructive.

Whatever happens next, I will always consider myself honored to have had these

few days together with you."

Leia took a deep breath. The words  themselves,  taken  alone,  could  be

construed to have an ominous ring to them. But spoken with the Caamasi's quiet

warmth, all potential threat or fear vanished. What came  across  instead  was

courage and hope and resolve; an inspiration and strength  that  came  not  so

much from Elegos as it did from hidden reserves of her own. Reserves his words

and presence were somehow able to draw out of her.

It was small wonder, she thought  with  distant  ache,  that  the  power-

insatiable Senator Palpatine had wanted such a dangerous people destroyed.

There was a lone figure waiting at the foot of the Falcon's ramp as  Leia

and the other three started down: a white-haired man  of  medium  height,  his

face lined with age but with the parade-ground-straight back of a professional

military officer. He wore the Imperial uniform well, Leia thought; he wore the

chest insignia of a Fleet admiral even better.  "Councilor  Organa  Solo,"  he

said, nodding gravely as she approached. "I'm Admiral Pellaeon. Welcome aboard

the Chimaera."

"Thank you, Admiral," Leia said, nodding back. "It's been a long time."

His forehead wrinkled. "I'm afraid you have me  at  a  disadvantage,"  he

said. "I wasn't aware we'd met."

"It wasn't a formal introduction," Leia told  him.  "But  I  remember  my

father pointing you out to me as one of the Fleet's  most  promising  officers

during the annual Grand Alderaanian Gathering at the Royal Pavilion when I was

ten."

Pellaeon's lip twitched. "I remember those days well," he  said  quietly.

"In some ways, I'd prefer not to."

His eyes shifted to Elegos, standing  at  Leia's  left.  "Perhaps  you'll

introduce me to the rest of your delegation?"

"Certainly," Leia said,  passing  over  for  the  moment  the  distinctly

unofficial status of the group.  "This  is  Elegos  A'kla,  Trustant  for  the

Caamasi Remnant."

Pellaeon smiled faintly as he nodded. "Trustant A'kla."

"Admiral Pellaeon," Elegos said, lowering his head in a Caamasi bow.

"On my right is Sakhisakh clan Tlakh'sar," Leia continued,  gesturing  to

the Noghri beside her.

Pellaeon's smile remained, but Leia could sense a new brittleness  behind

it. "Of course," the Admiral said. "Alderaanian, Caamasi,  and  Noghri.  Three

beings with the most reason to hate the Empire."

Sakhisakh stirred? "We hold no anger  toward  you  personally,  Admiral,"

Elegos said calmly before the Noghri  could  speak.  "Nor  have  we  animosity

toward the people of the Empire. Each of our worlds was destroyed by the  hand

of Emperor Palpatine, and he too is now dead. Continuing to nurture the  fires

of hatred would gain us nothing."

"Thank you, Trustant," Pellaeon said. "I appreciate your  generosity  and

your wisdom." His eyes flicked briefly to Sakhisakh,  then  turned  to  Ghent,

standing nervously at Elegos's other side. "And what particular  grievance  do

you represent, sir?"

"Me?" Ghent asked, starting. "Oh, no, I'm not part of this group. I mean?

I'm just the slicer who reconstructed Vermel's message for General Bel Iblis."

The last hint of a smile vanished from  Pellaeon's  face.  "What  do  you

mean, reconstructed?" he demanded. "Didn't the colonel present his message  in

person?"

"I'm afraid he didn't get that far," Leia said. "According to General Bel

Iblis, his Corvette was intercepted by a Star Destroyer while on  approach  to

Morishim."

Pellaeon's eyes had gone deadly. "Intercepted and destroyed?"

"No, or at least not at  that  time,"  Leia  said.  "The  Star  Destroyer

brought his ship into its hangar bay and then escaped."

"I see." For a long moment Pellaeon  stood  there,  his  eyes  gazing  at

nothing, his face hard and almost cruel, his  emotions  edged  with  simmering

anger. Leia stretched out to the Force, trying to read past  the  emotion  and

wondering if she should break the silence or wait for him to do so.

Elegos took the decision out of her hands. "I take it Colonel Vermel  was

a close friend," he commented quietly.

Pellaeon's eyes and attention came back. "I will hope that he still  is,"

he said.

"If not, someone will pay heavily for his death."

He exhaled. "But you came to talk peace, not vengeance. If you'll  follow

me, I have a room prepared for us off the hangar bay."

"I'd prefer to hold our discussion aboard my ship, if  you  don't  mind,"

Leia said.

"I'm afraid my bodyguards insist on that."

For a fraction of a second there was a flicker of uncertainty, even fear,

in Pellaeon's emotions. But then the fear faded, and  he  again  smiled.  "You

have more Noghri aboard, of course,"  he  said,  glancing  up  at  the  Falcon

looming over them. "No doubt watching even now with weapons at the ready."

"There will be no danger to you, Admiral," Elegos spoke up.  "Not  unless

you yourself bring it aboard."

Pellaeon waved a hand at the ramp. "In that case,  Councilor,  I  accept.

Please; lead the way."

A minute later Leia, Pellaeon, and Elegos were seated around the Falcon's

game table?a distressingly informal place for such a momentous occasion,  Leia

thought with some embarrassment, but the only place on  the  ship  where  they

could all sit comfortably together. Sakhisakh, without comment, had taken up a

guard position where he could watch both their  discussion  and  the  entrance

ramp. Ghent, also without comment, had gone over to the tech station  and  was

busying himself with the Falcon's computer.

"I'll get right  to  the  point,  Councilor,"  Pellaeon  said,  his  eyes

flicking briefly to Ghent and the Noghri. "The war that began twenty-odd years

ago is effectively over... and the Empire has lost."

"I agree," Leia said. "Is this opinion shared by others in the Empire?"

A muscle in Pellaeon's cheek twitched. "I'm  sure  the  average  Imperial

citizen has recognized that truth for quite some time," he said. "It's  merely

been the leadership who have clung to  the  hope  that  the  inevitable  could

somehow be prevented."

"And does that leadership now agree with the two of us  and  the  average

Imperial citizen?"

"Yes," Pellaeon said. "Reluctantly, but yes. I've been authorized by  the

eight remaining Moffs to open peace negotiations with the New Republic."

Leia felt her throat tighten. She had heard Vermel's  message;  had  come

aboard and seen Pellaeon waiting alone for her... but only now did it suddenly

seem truly real.

Peace. With the Empire.

"Yet as you have already said, the Empire has lost,"  Elegos  spoke  into

the silence. "What then remains to be negotiated?"

Leia resettled her shoulders, sending a silent word of thanks in Elegos's

direction for his subtle reminder of her duty here. She was  representing  the

New Republic, and could not allow the emotional lure of peace to blind her  to

the hard intellectual realities of the situation. "Trustant A'kla makes a good

point," she said. "What you would gain from a peace treaty  is  obvious.  What

would we gain?"

"Perhaps what we would gain is not as obvious  as  you  think,"  Pellaeon

said. "The New Republic is after all struggling with  internal  turmoil,  with

every indication that matters are getting worse."

He looked pointedly at Elegos. "Several of the Moffs,  in  fact,  believe

you're on the verge of collapsing into  total  civil  war  over  this  Caamasi

issue. In the midst of such anarchy, the remnants of the Empire  could  easily

be overlooked.

Why then should we bother with the humiliation of a treaty at all?"

Leia's mouth felt dry. It was an all too  reasonable  question.  "If  you

really believed we were about to destroy ourselves, you wouldn't be here," she

pointed out.

"Perhaps," Pellaeon said.  "Perhaps  I  merely  don't  believe  the  more

virulent haters of the Empire would forget about us." He paused. "Or perhaps I

may be able to keep that civil war from happening."

Leia frowned. "How?"

"Let me first state what the Empire would want  included  in  any  treaty

between us," Pellaeon said. "We would want our current borders  confirmed  and

accepted by Coruscant, with guarantees of free travel and  trade  between  our

worlds and those of the New Republic. No harassment; no border skirmishes;  no

propaganda pressure against us."

"What  about  the  nonhumans  living  under  Imperial  rule?"   Sakhisakh

demanded. "Are we to merely accept their slavery?"

Pellaeon shook his head. "The Empire which once  enslaved  and  exploited

thinking beings is dead,"  he  told  the  Noghri.  "The  human  domination  of

Palpatine long ago became full cooperation between all the beings  within  our

borders."

"Do all your subjects agree that they're now equals?" Leia asked.

"Probably not," Pellaeon conceded. "But once we had  the  security  of  a

peace treaty, any Imperial system wishing to join the New  Republic  would  be

offered the chance to do so."

He lifted his eyebrows. "By the  same  token,  we  would  expect  systems

within your borders who wish to rejoin the Empire to also be allowed  to  make

that choice, with the same security and  free  trade  guarantees  extended  to

them."

Sakhisakh bit out a Noghri curse. "What people would be so foolish as  to

give you their freedom?" he demanded contemptuously.

"You might be surprised," Pellaeon said. "Freedom, after all, is a highly

relative and subjective thing. And as I say, we're not the Empire you knew."

The Noghri rumbled under  his  breath  again  but  remained  silent.  "Of

course, all guarantees of safety would work  the  other  direction  as  well,"

Pellaeon said, turning back to  Leia.  "No  attacks  by  Imperial  forces;  no

provocation; no hired privateers." His face twitched in an almost-smile. "And,

of course, if we should happen to stumble across another superweapon Palpatine

had hidden away, we would work with you to dismantle it."

Leia braced herself. "And  what  about  the  superweapon  you're  already

using?"

Pellaeon frowned. "What superweapon?"

"The one that nearly defeated us once before," Leia said. "Grand  Admiral

Thrawn."

Pellaeon's lips compressed briefly, and Leia  could  sense  the  wave  of

uncertainty and quiet fear washing through him. "I don't  know,  Councilor.  I

have no idea at all what's going on there."

Leia threw a glance at Elegos. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Pellaeon told her. "I've  been  here  at  Pesitiin

waiting for General Bel Iblis for the past two weeks, and was running under  a

communications blackout for several days  before  that.  I  didn't  even  know

Thrawn had been reported alive until a week ago."

Leia frowned, stretching out to Pellaeon with the Force. But there was no

duplicity in his thoughts or emotions that she could detect.

"You say 'reported alive,' Admiral," Elegos said. "Does  your  choice  of

words imply you don't believe he has actually returned?"

"I don't know what to believe, Trustant," Pellaeon said. "Certainly I had

every reason to think he was dead. I  was  there  on  the  Chimaera's  bridge,

standing at his side, when he appeared to die."

"Again, you say 'appeared' to die," Elegos persisted. "Did he or  did  he

not truly die?"

"I truly do not know," Pellaeon said with a sigh. "Thrawn was  an  alien,

with an alien physiology, and..." He shook his head.  "Has  he  actually  been

seen by anyone from the New Republic? Someone  whose  word  and  judgment  you

trust?"

"My  friend  Lando  Calrissian  was  intercepted  and  taken  aboard  the

Relentless, along with the Diamalan Senator," Leia said. "Both of them claimed

it was indeed Thrawn."

"The Relentless," Pellaeon murmured, frowning. "Dorja's ship; and he  was

one of those who did meet Thrawn personally.  Hard  to  believe  he  would  be

easily taken in by a trick. Or, for that matter, that he would risk  his  ship

without exceptionally good reason."

Leia hesitated; but there was no easy way to say this. "It occurs to  me,

Admiral, that these talks may be somewhat premature," she said. "If Thrawn  is

alive, then you are presumably no longer head of the Imperial military."

"If he's alive, he will most certainly relieve me  of  supreme  command,"

Pellaeon  said  evenly.  "However,  at  the  moment  that   consideration   is

irrelevant. The military is subordinate to  the  Moffs;  and  the  Moffs  have

authorized me to negotiate this treaty."

"Wouldn't that authority be rescinded, though, in the  face  of  Thrawn's

return?" Leia countered.

"It may," Pellaeon acknowledged.  "But  until  I'm  informed  of  such  a

decision, my authority stands."

"I see," Leia murmured, gazing at the  old  Admiral  with  a  sudden  new

understanding. He had learned about Thrawn's return  a  full  week  ago;  yet,

instead of rushing back to learn more, he had deliberately remained here under

communications blackout. Not just to wait for Bel Iblis, but to make  sure  he

still had the authority to negotiate if and when Bel Iblis arrived.  To  start

the ball rolling, perhaps beyond the ability of the Moffs or  even  Thrawn  to

easily stop it.

This was not a game, or at least not  a  game  he  was  helping  to  run.

Admiral Pellaeon, Supreme  Commander  of  Imperial  forces,  genuinely  wanted

peace.

"Did Thrawn say anything to Calrissian and the Senator?"  Pellaeon  asked

into Leia's musings. "I presume they were allowed  to  leave?very  few  people

simply escape from an Imperial Star Destroyer."

"Actually, in some respects his message was similar to yours," Leia said.

"He warned that the New Republic was headed for self-destruction  and  offered

to help us avoid that."

"Are you considering his offer?"

"Unfortunately, his  proposed  method  was  deemed  unacceptable  by  the

Senate," Leia said. "He wanted to speak privately with the Bothan leaders, and

from those conversations determine who had sabotaged the Caamasi shields."

"Interesting," Pellaeon said, rubbing his chin  thoughtfully.  "I  wonder

how merely talking with them would accomplish that. Unless the clan leaders do

indeed know the truth."

"They claim they don't," Leia said. "And considering the  growing  threat

to the entire Bothan species, I think they would give us that  information  if

they had it."

"You suggested you might also have a way to prevent  civil  war,"  Elegos

reminded the admiral. "Would you care to elaborate?"

Leia could sense  Pellaeon  pulling  his  attention  back  from  his  own

thoughts. "I'm sure it's occurred to you that the crisis could be resolved  by

finding a complete version of the Caamas Document," he said. "In exchange  for

favorable peace terms, the Empire would be willing to offer you a copy of that

record."

Leia shot a glance at Sakhisakh, saw the Noghri's own subtle reaction. If

they were on schedule, Han and Lando should be right now conducting their  own

search for that record on Bastion.  "Just  like  that?"  she  asked  Pellaeon.

"You'd simply turn it over to us?"

"Once we have it in hand,  yes."  He  paused.  "There  is,  however,  one

problem. If it does indeed exist, it would be located  in  the  Special  Files

section of the archives, which is severely restricted and heavily encrypted. I

don't have any way into those files; neither does  anyone  I  know.  If  we're

going to get to the document in time, the New Republic will need to loan us  a

top-rate decryption expert."

There was a sort of choked-off gurgle from  the  direction  of  the  tech

station.

Ghent was still facing the control board, but his back had suddenly  gone

rigid.

"Where would he need to go?" she asked Pellaeon, her eyes still on Ghent.

"To Bastion?"

"No, to the Ubiqtorate base at Yaga Minor," Pellaeon said. "The commander

there is a personal friend, and there's a somewhat  isolated  computer  access

station he could use. Bastion itself would be far too dangerous."

Leia looked back at him, her heart catching suddenly in her throat.  "How

do you mean, dangerous?"

"Bastion is the home base and stronghold of one of  the  most  vehemently

antipeace officials in the entire Empire," Pellaeon said grimly. "Moff  Disra.

He also appears to be up to his neck in a private little war  using  mercenary

pirate gangs and illegally obtained funds."

"Yes, we've noticed all the pirate activity," Leia said, fighting to keep

her voice steady. Han and Lando on Bastion...  "You  don't  think  Moff  Disra

would appreciate having a New Republic representative on his world?"

Pellaeon snorted. "Digging into  private  Imperial  files?  Hardly.  Your

expert wouldn't be there six hours  before  Disra  would  know  about  it.  It

wouldn't be six hours more before some convenient  accident  would  happen  to

him. But he'd be safe enough on Yaga Minor."

"I'm glad to hear that," Leia  said,  looking  again  at  Sakhisakh.  The

Noghri's face was rigid with the same ache and fear she herself  was  feeling.

Han on Bastion, in the middle of a vengeful Moff's stronghold...

"Would it be possible for you to supply such an expert?" Pellaeon asked.

With a supreme effort, Leia pushed her fears away. "I  don't  know,"  she

said. "I don't think so."

Pellaeon seemed taken aback. "You don't think so?"

"No," Leia said, glancing over at the tech station again. Ghent was still

facing the control board, but his head was  turned  just  enough  to  let  him

surreptitiously watch the conversation around the game table. "Perhaps  later,

after we have an official agreement. But not yet."

"By the time there's an agreement it might be too late," Pellaeon warned.

"Our scout ships are picking up only occasional news reports,  but  even  from

what I know the situation in the New Republic is clearly getting  worse.  Even

with an expert slicer at work, the project is going to take some time."

He grimaced. "And there's one other factor, as well. We suspect that  one

of Moff Disra's agents may already have found his way into those Special Files

once. We don't know what he was  looking  for,  but  the  Caamas  Document  is

definitely one possible target. If we delay too long and he's able to  get  in

again to erase the file, we  may  never  learn  the  truth.  Only  if  we  act

immediately?"

"All right," Ghent interrupted, swiveling abruptly around in his chair to

face them. "All right. I'll go."

Leia blinked. Once again, he had taken her completely by  surprise.  "You

don't mean that," she said. "This could be dangerous."

"The danger would be extremely small," Pellaeon insisted.

"Doesn't matter," Ghent said. His voice was trembling, but  his  jaw  was

set firmly. "On the way from Coruscant Elegos told me all about what  happened

to his world. It was terrible?everyone killed, all the animals, too.  I  hated

the people who'd done it?I really hated them. And  I  hated  the  Bothans  for

making the whole thing happen in the first place."

He looked over at Elegos. "But he told me hatred was wrong, that  it  was

one of those things that hurt the hater more than the people he hated. He told

me there can be justice without hatred, and  punishment  without  revenge.  He

said we were all responsible for what we do and what we don't do, and  no  one

should have to pay for someone else's crimes."

He locked eyes with Leia. "I'm a slicer, Councilor  Organa  Solo.  I'm  a

good slicer. And I'm responsible for what I do and what I don't do, just  like

you or Elegos. If I can help and I don't, I'm just as guilty as anyone  else."

He waved a hand helplessly.  "I'm  not  too  good  at  stuff  like  this.  You

understand what I'm trying to say?"

"I understand perfectly," Leia assured him. "And I very  much  appreciate

your offer. The question is whether I can allow you to put  yourself  at  risk

this way."

"It would seem that should be  a  straightforward  question  for  you  to

answer, Councilor," Elegos said. "As a Jedi, does Crypt Chief Ghent  going  to

Yaga Minor seem the correct path?"

Leia hid a  grimace.  Once  again,  the  Caamasi's  perception  had  come

through, reminding her of the true source of her insight and guidance.

Except that for  once  that  source  had  failed  her.  Or  perhaps  more

correctly, she had failed it. No matter how hard  she  stretched  out  to  the

Force, all she could see was the turmoil of her own fears  for  Han's  safety.

Fears that she'd managed to suppress until now; guilt that she'd allowed  him?

even encouraged  him?to  step  onto  a  hostile  world  in  the  first  place;

resentment and anger that after all their years of sacrifice she and Han  were

still the ones who always seemed to  be  called  on  to  risk  everything  for

others.

Blinking back tears, she tried to push back the sudden surge of  emotion.

But it remained a restless churning pool washing across her mind and spirit.

And as the Jedi calm eluded her, so did any hope of reading Ghent's path.

"I don't know," she admitted at last. "I can't seem to get  any  kind  of

reading."

"Does  that  mean  you  can't  guarantee  his  safety?"  Pellaeon  asked,

frowning.

"No one's safety is ever guaranteed, Admiral," Elegos said. "Not even  by

a Jedi." He smiled  faintly,  an  oddly  melancholy  expression.  "Though,  of

course, most of us travel through our entire lives without  any  assurance  at

all that the path we are on is the correct one. No assurance  except  that  of

our own spirits within us."

"Elegos has  been  spouting  that  sort  of  stuff  ever  since  we  left

Coruscant," Ghent said with a weak attempt at a grin. "I guess  some  of  this

nobleness stuff must have rubbed off on me."

Unsteadily, he got to his feet. "This is the right path. And  I'm  ready.

When do we leave?"

"At once," Pellaeon said,  sliding  around  the  end  of  the  table  and

standing up. "I'll put together a letter of introduction  for  General  Hestiv

and detail one of my most trusted pilots to fly you to Yaga Minor."  His  eyes

flicked across Ghent's outfit. "I think we'll also  put  you  in  an  Imperial

uniform. Disra may have informers on Yaga  Minor,  and  there's  no  point  in

drawing unnecessary attention by bringing an obvious civilian onto a  military

base."

"You won't be taking him there yourself in the Chimaera?" Leia asked.

Pellaeon shook his head. "Once you and I have finished  our  discussions,

I'll be heading directly to Bastion. There are some rather  pointed  questions

Moff Disra owes me answers for."

Leia swallowed. "I see."

"With your permission, then, I'll go  arrange  for  Crypt  Chief  Ghent's

transport." Pellaeon smiled faintly at  Ghent.  "I  mean  Imperial  Lieutenant

Ghent's transport.

Come with me, Lieutenant."

Stepping past Sakhisakh, he headed for the Falcon's exit.  "Sure,"  Ghent

said, starting after him. "So long, Elegos. You too, Councilor."

"Go in wisdom and courage," Elegos said gravely.

"May the Force be with you," Leia added. "And thank you."

* * *

Captain Ardiff was waiting in the aft bridge when Pellaeon  emerged  from

the turbolift. "The Millennium Falcon has cleared  the  sentry  perimeter  and

jumped to lightspeed," he reported.

"Good," Pellaeon said, looking past him to the viewport. In the distance,

he could see the faint flickers of reflected sunlight from the solar panels of

the TIE fighter escort as they headed back to the  Chimaera.  "And  Lieutenant

Mavron?"

"He and his passenger left half an hour ago." Ardiff lifted his  eyebrows

slightly. "May I ask...?"

"How the talks went?" Pellaeon shrugged. "As well  as  preliminary  talks

ever go, I suppose. Organa Solo isn't about to commit the New  Republic  to  a

course of action based on my word alone, and I made it similarly clear that  I

can't accept her word as guaranteeing Coruscant's future actions. So there's a

great deal of careful verbal dancing yet to be done."

"But she's willing to talk."

"She's very willing to talk." Pellaeon hesitated. "At least,  about  most

things."

Ardiff frowned. "What do you mean?"

Pellaeon gazed out at the stars  again.  "There's  something  she  wasn't

telling me," he said. "Something important?that much I'm  sure  of.  But  what

exactly it was..." He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Private information having to do  with  the  Bothans,  perhaps?"  Ardiff

suggested.

"Or something more personal? She's been in political trouble on Coruscant

before?could it be that she's about to lose her influence there entirely?"

"I  hope  not,"  Pellaeon  said.  "Political  problems  between  her  and

Coruscant would make this process far more difficult than it already is.  They

might reject any proposal simply because she was involved with it."

"Or might support it because she was involved," Ardiff pointed out.  "The

polarization we're already seeing over the Caamas  issue  could  easily  bleed

over into something like this."

"That's one of my biggest concerns," Pellaeon agreed grimly. "That  peace

will be rejected by some for  no  better  reason  than  that  their  political

enemies are for it."

He stepped past Ardiff onto the command walkway. "But all of us have only

the cards the universe has dealt us," he said. "If Organa Solo refuses to show

us some of her cards, we'll just have to play the game that way.

"And in the meantime," he added, "we have other matters to attend to. Set

course for Bastion, Captain. It's time Moff Disra and I had  a  long,  serious

talk."

* * *

In front of the Falcon, the stars flared into starlines, and Leia slumped

a little in her seat. "Do you think he really meant it?" she asked, turning to

look at Elegos.

Elegos gave one of his  full-body  Caamasi  shrugs.  "I  believe  Admiral

Pellaeon himself is sincere," he said.  "As  I  presume  you  know  with  more

certainty than I do. I suspect the question you really wish to ask is  whether

his sincerity can be trusted."

"I don't know," she said. "You're right, I don't sense any  duplicity  in

Pellaeon himself. But with Thrawn back on the scene..." She  shook  her  head.

"Nothing was ever the way it seemed with him, Elegos. He  could  maneuver  you

into doing exactly what he wanted you to do, despite the fact that you knew he

was trying to do it. Thrawn may be using this peace initiative  of  Pellaeon's

for some other end entirely."

"Is that why you didn't tell him  that  Captain  Solo  was  on  Bastion?"

Elegos asked.

Leia started. "How did you know about that?" she demanded. "I didn't tell

you Han had gone there."

Elegos shrugged again. "You've dropped hints,"  he  said.  "As  have  the

Noghri. It hasn't been difficult to put the  pieces  together."  His  blue-on-

green eyes bored into her face. "Why didn't you tell Admiral Pellaeon that?"

Leia turned away from that gaze, pretending to study the Falcon's  engine

monitor.

"We know that Imperials are encouraging at least  some  of  the  violence

that's been occurring in the New Republic," she  said,  fighting  through  the

sudden dryness in her throat. "That riot on Bothawui, for one?my Noghri  guard

found evidence that the shots that started it came from a rare Imperial sniper

weapon."

"Interesting," Elegos murmured. "You didn't  tell  Pellaeon  about  that,

either."

"The problem is we have no real proof of any of it," Leia  said,  shaking

her head tiredly. "And even if we did... fighting Thrawn is  like  fighting  a

shadow, Elegos. He's never where you think he is, doing what you expect him to

do.

Everything he does is circles within circles within circles."

"Yet you cannot allow uncertainty to paralyze you," Elegos  pointed  out.

"That path allows him to win by default. At some point, right  or  wrong,  you

must take action." His eyes seemed to bore into hers. "You must decide who you

can trust."

Leia blinked back sudden  tears.  "I  can't  trust  Pellaeon,"  she  said

bluntly. "Not yet. If Thrawn is orchestrating this whole operation, Han  would

be a terribly useful hostage or bargaining chip for him. I couldn't  take  the

chance he'd find out from Pellaeon that Han was there."

"Yet you trusted him enough to allow him to take Ghent into  a  situation

of potentially equal danger," Elegos pointed out.

"Ghent wanted to go," she said, knowing even as she spoke  that  such  an

argument was dangerously slippery ground. "Besides, he wouldn't be of any  use

to Thrawn."

"You know better than that, Councilor," Elegos said, the soft reproach in

his voice a painful jab in Leia's heart. "Ghent is highly knowledgeable  about

New Republic  encrypt  and  decrypt  techniques.  In  a  war  situation,  such

knowledge would be of immense value to the Empire."

"We've already been over this," Leia reminded him, the first stirrings of

anger coloring the guilt rumbling within her. Who was this Caamasi to tell her

what was right or not right for her to do? "There's no way  for  us  to  avoid

taking risks here."

"I agree," Elegos said. "And I don't suggest  that  your  decisions  were

necessarily wrong."

Leia frowned, the growing anger turning to suspicious uncertainty.  "What

are you suggesting, then?" she demanded.

"That you're worried you used your power and authority  to  protect  your

husband more than you did a relative  stranger,"  Elegos  said.  "That  you're

worried you've betrayed the trust  that  is  yours  as  a  High  Councilor,  a

diplomat, and a Jedi."

"She does not need to answer to you,  Trustant  A'kla,"  a  harsh  Noghri

voice came from behind them.

Leia turned her head to see Sakhisakh standing in the open cockpit  door.

"Trouble?" she asked him.

"No trouble," the Noghri assured her, stepping forward and  taking  up  a

position just behind her. "I came to report that no one  is  in  pursuit,  and

that Barkhimkh is shutting down the weapons systems." He turned his dark  eyes

on Elegos. "If she chooses to protect her clan from danger, that is no concern

of yours."

"I agree," Elegos said calmly. "As I've already said,  I'm  not  here  to

pass judgment."

"Then why do you press her about it?" Sakhisakh demanded.

"Because as I also said, she herself is not  convinced  she  did  right,"

Elegos said, turning his gaze back to Leia. "It's  important  that  she  think

this matter through and come to a conclusion, one way or  another.  Either  to

accept her decisions as right and continue on, or to acknowledge them as wrong

and also continue on."

"Why must she do this?" Sakhisakh asked.

The Caamasi smiled sadly.  "Because  she  is  a  High  Councilor,  and  a

diplomat, and a Jedi. Only when she is at peace with herself will she have the

insight and wisdom we will all need to rely on in the days ahead."

For a long moment none of them spoke. Leia stared out at the mottled  sky

of hyperspace rushing past, the acrid bite of shame adding to the rest of  the

emotions swirling within her. Once again, Elegos was right. "You  should  have

been a Jedi, Elegos," she said with a sigh as she unstrapped from her seat and

stood up.

"I do not have a Jedi's ability to touch the Force," Elegos said, an  odd

note of regret in his voice. "And yet, you speak more truly than  perhaps  you

know. It is a legend among my people that, at the very dawn of their age,  the

first of the Jedi Knights came to Caamas to learn from us  the  moral  use  of

their power."

"I don't doubt the legend is true," Leia  said,  gesturing  to  the  seat

she'd just vacated. "Sakhisakh, if you'd take control here,  I'll  be  in  the

cargo hold. I have some serious thinking and meditating to do."

CHAPTER

20

"Good day, citizen-scholars of the M'challa Order  of  the  Empire,"  the

ancient SE2  service  droid  behind  the  reception  desk  wheezed  its  usual

greeting. "How may I and the Imperial Library serve you this morning?"

"Just assign us a computer station," Han said, putting a firm restraining

bolt on his already grouchy mood. Already it was shaping up to be a hot, muggy

day, and he felt both  uncomfortable  and  stupid  parading  around  the  city

streets in the traditional M'challa scholar's robe he and the others had  been

wearing ever since landing here on Bastion. The last thing he wanted to do was

waste time trading banter with an SE2 droid.  "We  can  handle  our  own  data

search, thanks."

"Certainly." The droid peered at him, then at Lando, then at  Lobot.  His

gaze lingered on the latter, as if wondering why he was wearing  his  hood  so

close about his head on such a warm day.  "You  citizens  have  been  in  here

before," he said. "Each of the past three days, if my memory has not degraded.

"

"We're doing a long-term study," Lando stepped in smoothly. "It  takes  a

great deal of time."

"Would you like assistance?" the droid asked helpfully. "We have  several

research droids and interface counterparts available  for  hire  at  a  purely

nominal fee."

"We're doing fine," Han told him, striving mightily to keep from shouting

in the droid's metal face. "Just assign us a station, all right?"

"Certainly, citizen-scholar," the droid said affably.  "Station  47A.  Go

through the double doors to your left?"

"We know where it is," Han said, turning on his heel and stalking  toward

the indicated doors.

"And thank you," Lando added.

He and Lobot caught up with Han just inside the double doors. "You  think

you can draw a little more attention to us?" Lando growled as Han  headed  off

through the maze of individual and group booths that  filled  the  huge  room,

only a handful of which were currently occupied. "Maybe you should try kicking

the droid back and forth across the desk a few times?that ought to do it."

"A lot of Imperials don't like droids," Han growled back. "Even scholars.

Let's just get on with it, okay?"

Lando didn't answer, and Han felt a twinge of guilt for snapping  at  his

friend that way. After all, Lando was doing him a big favor by even being here

in the first place.

But his mood was already too sour for the  guilt  to  make  much  headway

against it.

Three days of softfooting around the Imperial capital city having to  put

up with smarmy Imperials, overcharging tapcafe owners, and  idiot  SE2  droids

was starting to get to him.

Especially considering how much progress they'd made so  far  in  getting

into the Special Files section. Namely, none.

They reached Station 47A and Han snagged a third  chair  from  an  unused

booth to supplement the two already there. "All right," Lando said, activating

the booth's privacy field as he sat Lobot down in front of  the  keyboard  and

then took the chair beside him. "You have a good contact with Moegid?"

Lobot's answer was to place his fingers on the keyboard.  For  a  moment,

nothing happened. Then, slowly, he began tapping the keys.

Hitching his chair up behind Lando,  stifling  a  sarcastic  remark  that

wouldn't have done anyone any good and was probably uncalled for  anyway,  Han

sat down and tried to settle in. Maybe this time, they'd get lucky.

* * *

The ship had been quiet for nearly an hour before  Karoly  decided  that,

once again, she had guessed wrong.

It was aggravating. No, actually, it was infuriating. To  have  come  all

this way with Solo and Calrissian?to have spent  days  buried  alive  in  this

cramped  smuggling  compartment  beneath  the  elegant   living   section   of

Calrissian's yacht?and then to not even find Karrde and Shada waiting  at  the

end of the ride was maddening.

She took a deep breath in  the  darkness,  ordering  herself  sternly  to

settle down.

Maybe Karrde and Shada had simply been delayed, and were still  on  their

way. She would just have to be patient and wait them out.

In the meantime, there was clearly nothing to be gained by hanging around

in this hole feeling sorry for herself. Reaching above  her,  she  worked  the

catch that popped the hidden access panel and eased it carefully to one side.

For a moment she remained motionless in a half crouch, listening for  any

indication that she might have been heard. Then she eased up and out into  the

corridor, breathing deeply as she flushed the stale air of the compartment out

of her lungs.

No  one  was  visible.  Not  that  that  was  surprising,  really.  Solo,

Calrissian, and that biocomp-wired cyborg they called Lobot had all  gone  off

together that morning, leaving the Verpine presumably in his  usual  place  in

the aft control room. That had been  the  procedure  every  day  since  they'd

landed here, and there'd been nothing in the snatches  of  conversation  she'd

overheard that might indicate the  routine  had  been  changed.  Briefly,  she

considered sneaking aft to again try to figure out what the Verpine was doing,

but decided against it. Her last two efforts in that direction had  failed  to

discover anything useful, and she couldn't see wasting any more time on it.

Which left her with the question of what exactly she  should  be  wasting

her time doing.

There weren't all that many options, actually. For the past  three  days,

she'd followed Solo and the others to what the SE2 on desk duty had identified

as an Imperial Library. The first two days she'd sneaked  in  behind  them  to

watch; yesterday, tired of staring through a privacy field watching them punch

computer keys all day, she'd left them inside and scouted around the  building

and neighborhood.

Now, having sneaked back aboard the ship last night, she had  tested  the

theory that Shada might actually be meeting with the Verpine  while  Solo  and

the others were out. But that one had fallen through, too...  and  as  far  as

Karoly could see, she was out of options. For all the evidence to date,  Shada

might not be coming here at all.

And that was an immensely irritating  thought.  It  would  mean  she  had

completely misinterpreted that conversation she'd  eavesdropped  between  Solo

and Calrissian, and had come out here on a total wild tresher hunt.

Wherever "here" actually was. It was Imperial space?that  much  had  been

obvious from the all-human  populace  even  before  she'd  spotted  her  first

Imperial Security uniform. But where in the Empire it actually was, she didn't

know.

Not that it mattered all that much, except for the fact that if Solo  and

Calrissian managed to give her the slip it might  mean  trouble  getting  back

home.

Unlikely, though?from the way they'd been talking this morning,  whatever

their objective was they were still a long way from achieving it.

Still, Karrde had been mentioned in that conversation, so  maybe  he  was

just being cagey. Another quick scout around the library's  neighborhood,  she

decided, then tag Solo again when they took their usual  early-afternoon  meal

break.

And maybe this time they would actually say something worth listening to.

Easing down the corridor, alert for any sounds, she headed for the hatchway.

* * *

"Another report from your new  Empire,  Your  Excellency,"  Tierce  said,

laying a pair of datacards on Disra's  desk.  "The  Ruurian  governments  have

forwarded a copy of the fully executed treaty between their  systems  and  the

Empire."

"Systems?" Disra asked, picking up the datacard and frowning  at  it.  "I

thought our treaty was only with their home system."

"It was," Tierce  said  smugly.  "Apparently,  our  little  demonstration

against those Diamalan Marauders convinced three of their independent colonies

that they wanted to be on the winning side, too."

"Did it, now," Disra said, looking at the datacard with new interest. The

Ruurian independent colonies  were  joint  efforts  with  a  half-dozen  other

species.

"Did the other co-owners of those worlds agree?"

"Apparently so," Tierce said. "The treaties speak of the  colony  systems

in their entireties, with no mention of specific  regions  or  districts."  He

smiled. "Of course, the Ruurians are quite good at persuasion."

"They're not the only ones," Disra said, looking across the room to where

Flim  was  hunched  over  in  a  chair,  staring   moodily   out   a   window.

"Congratulations, Admiral. You've picked up three more systems."

Flim  didn't  answer,  and  Disra  felt  his  lip  twist  with  contempt.

Apparently, the con man was still sulking.

"Don't worry," Tierce said, following Disra's glare. "He'll get  over  it

soon enough."

"Or else he'll soon find himself impaled on a sharp pole somewhere out in

Unknown Space," Flim growled without turning around. "Right next to the two of

you."

Disra looked up at Tierce. "What's his problem?"

"Nothing serious," Tierce said, dismissing the con man with a wave of his

hand.

"He's worried about that alien ship, that's all."

"Ah," Disra said, smiling tightly. Yes?the mysterious  alien  ship  which

that sleeper cell pilot had spotted and made a recording of off Pakrik  Minor.

"What's the status on that, anyway?"

"The analysts should be finished anytime," Tierce assured him. "I have  a

feeling this may be it, Your Excellency."

Disra felt a shiver ripple up his back. "You really think  that  was  the

Hand of Thrawn in that ship?"

"You saw the  design,"  Tierce  pointed  out.  "Part  TIE  fighter,  part

something else.

Yes, I think that's the Hand, or else his agent,  or  else  someone  from

Captain Parck. Whichever, I think we may finally have lured  our  target  into

the open."

Flim made a rumbling noise in the back of his  throat.  "Like  you  might

lure out a Death Star," he muttered.

"You're overdoing the melodrama just a bit, Admiral,"  Tierce  said,  his

patience starting to sound a little strained. "Whoever they are, there  are  a

dozen ways we can keep them from getting close enough to figure out  you're  a

fraud."

"And what if they want to say hello?" Flim countered. "What are you going

to say then? That I've got laryngitis? That I just stepped out for a week?"

"Hold it, both of you," Disra cut them off as the comm light on his  desk

began to blink. "This may be it."

He keyed the comm. "Moff Disra," he said.

The man on the display was middle-aged,  with  the  slightly  nearsighted

look of someone who has spent  long  years  staring  at  a  computer  display.

"Colonel Uday, Your Excellency: Imperial Intelligence  Analysis.  I  have  the

final report on that record you sent me."

"Excellent," Disra said. "Send it immediately."

"Yes, sir," Uday said, glancing down and working keys off-camera. Another

light on Disra's display winked on and then off again, marking  the  transfer.

"I'm afraid there  wasn't  much  we  could  get  on  the  ship  itself,"  Uday

continued. "But what there was is in there."

"Thank you," Disra said, trying not to sound too impatient. The sooner he

could cut off this garrulous fool, the sooner he and Tierce could start  going

over the report line by line. "You'll be receiving  a  commendation  for  your

quick work."

"Two points, first, if I may, Your Excellency," Uday said, holding up two

fingers.

"I'm sure it's all in your report," Disra  said,  reaching  for  the  off

switch. "Thank you?"

"According to the note that accompanied the file, the sighting  was  made

by a TIE fighter off Pakrik Minor," Uday said. "That turns out not to  be  the

case."

Disra froze, finger poised over the switch. "Explain."

"The file is actually a compilation  of  two  separate  sightings,"  Uday

said. "One was made in the Kauron system, we think, the other  either  in  the

Nosken or Drompani systems. Neither was made by a TIE fighter, either."

Disra threw a hard look at Tierce. The Royal Guardsman's face had  turned

to stone. "How do you know?" he demanded.

"That they didn't come  from  TIE  fighters?"  Uday  asked.  "The  sensor

profiles are all wrong. I'd guess an X-wing or A-wing for the first one,  some

kind of well-equipped warship for the second.  Not  a  New  Republic  ship?the

verification signature is wrong for that." The colonel shrugged. "As to  where

they were made, that's easily pulled from the background star patterns."

Disra took a careful breath. "Thank you, Colonel," he said. "You've  been

most helpful. As I said, a commendation will be forthcoming."

"Thank you, Your Excellency," Uday said.

Disra stabbed the comm switch, and the colonel's face  vanished.  "Well,"

the Moff said, looking at Tierce again. "It seems we've been lied to."

"It does indeed," Tierce  said,  his  voice  soft,  his  expression  gone

suddenly deadly. "I think, Your Excellency, that we have been betrayed."

Disra swore viciously. "That kriffing  clone.  That  kriffing  clone.  We

should never have trusted them. Thrawn should never have started this kriffing

project in the first place."

"Calm down," Tierce said, his tone suddenly sharp. "Thrawn knew  what  he

was doing. And don't forget that a good many of those clones died fighting for

the Empire."

"They're still an abomination," Disra snarled. He'd spoken  with  clones;

had ordered them into battle; had even sold them to the  Cavrilhu  Pirates  in

exchange for Zothip's precious Preybird starfighters. They still made his skin

crawl. "And you can't trust any of them."

"Can we get off Carib Devist and clone treachery for a minute?" Flim  put

in tautly. "Seems to me the question ought to be why he sent us a faked record

in the first place. What did he have to gain?"

Tierce took a deep breath, clearly forcing calmness into  himself.  "That

is indeed the question. Disra, how did the record come in?"

"Aboard a drone probe from the Ubiqtorate contact station at  Parshoone,"

Disra told him. "Sent by the agent in charge?"

"Sent directly here?" Tierce cut him off. "No handoffs or course changes?

"

"No," Disra said, one hand  curling  into  a  fist  as  it  suddenly  and

belatedly struck him. "They wanted Bastion's location."

"And they got it," Tierce said darkly, his comlink already in  his  hand.

"Major Tierce to Capital Security: full background alert.  Possible  spies  in

the city; locate and put under surveillance. Do not?repeat, do  not?detain  at

present.

Confirmation from Moff Disra will be forthcoming."

He got an acknowledgment  and  keyed  off.  "You  need  to  send  them  a

confirmation, Your Excellency," he said.

"I know," Disra said, frowning at him. "Excuse me  if  I  seem  unusually

dense today; but you don't want them detained? Spies or saboteurs in my  city,

and you don't want them detained?"

"I don't think they're saboteurs," Tierce said. "After all, they've  been

here at least a couple of days and nothing has blown up."

"Oh, that's comforting," Disra said  icily.  "Why  don't  you  want  them

detained?"

"As Thrawn often said, within every problem lies an opportunity."  Tierce

shifted his gaze  to  the  side.  "It  occurs  to  me  we  have  an  extremely

interesting opportunity here."

Frowning, Disra followed his gaze...

"You'd better not be thinking what I think you're thinking," Flim warned,

his eyes flicking uneasily back and forth between Tierce and Disra.

"Of course we  are,"  Tierce  assured  him.  "A  Rebel  spy  team,  being

confronted personally by Grand Admiral Thrawn? It would be the perfect cap  to

your performance."

"The perfect slab under my funeral pyre, you mean," Flim shot back.  "Are

you crazy, Tierce? They get one glimpse of me, and  you're  going  to  have  a

martyred Grand Admiral on your hands."

"Which might not be such a bad idea," Disra growled, keying  confirmation

of Tierce's security alert into his board. "Tierce is right?this is a  perfect

chance to demonstrate your omniscience."

"I can hardly wait," Flim said sourly, crossing his arms.

"Calm down, Admiral," Tierce said, nudging Disra  aside  and  keying  the

display for a search grid  overview.  "We'll  have  them  spotted  in  fifteen

minutes, and the whole thing will be over in thirty."

There was a beep from the display. "Your Excellency?"

Muttering a curse, Disra keyed the comm switch. "Yes, what is it?"

A young, earnest-looking man appeared on the display. "Major  Kerf,  Your

Excellency: spaceport control," he identified himself. "I thought  you'd  like

to know that his shuttle has just landed."

Disra shot a look over the display at Tierce, got a  shrug  in  response.

"Whose shuttle has just landed?"

"I thought you knew, sir," Kerf said, looking a  little  bewildered.  "He

said he was on his way to the palace to see you, and I just assumed?"

"Never mind your assumptions, Major," Disra snapped. "Who is it?"

"Why, the admiral, sir," Kerf stammered. "You know?Admiral Pellaeon."

* * *

The waiter at the open-air tapcafe set the plate of mesh-cooked  trimpian

slices down on the  table,  accepted  payment  with  a  not-quite  sneer,  and

strolled his way back toward the overhang where the bar was located.  "He's  a

real gem, isn't he," Lando grumbled, glaring after him.

"Probably figures M'challa scholars wouldn't know good service if it fell

over them, so why bother," Han said, picking up one of the slices and  dipping

it into the yellow-swirled miasra sauce, being careful not to let  the  sleeve

of his robe drag into it. Despite the fact they again had no progress to  show

for their morning's work, he was actually feeling better than he had earlier.

Lando, on the other hand, seemed to have caught his bad mood.  "So  what,

that means our money's no good?" he growled. "I tell you, Han, they're getting

cocky again."

"Yeah, I know," Han said, taking a bite as he looked out  at  the  people

hurrying along  the  streets  bordering  the  tapcafe.  Hurrying  about  their

business, with a light step and an optimism they probably hadn't had in years.

And it didn't take a genius to figure out why.

Grand Admiral Thrawn had returned.

"They have to realize they're still completely overmatched,"  he  pointed

out around his mouthful. "They've got, what, a thousand systems left?"

"It's not a lot," Lando agreed, snagging a  piece  of  the  trimpian  for

himself and dabbing it delicately into the miasra  sauce.  Lobot,  Han  noted,

without the distraction of conversation or moodiness to  slow  him  down,  was

already on his second slice. "But you sure wouldn't  know  it  by  looking  at

them."

"Yeah," Han said,  looking  around  some  more.  Happy  people,  cheerful

people, confident that the universe was about to open up and rain wonders down

on them again. It was enough to turn a bad mood really rotten...

He paused,  the  tangy  bite  of  trimpian  between  his  teeth  suddenly

forgotten.

Beyond the pedestrians, the vehicular traffic had  come  to  a  momentary

halt as a speeder truck halfway down the block  maneuvered  toward  a  loading

ramp. And in one of the landspeeders a few meters back from the tapcafe?

"Lando?over there," he hissed, nodding toward the landspeeder. "That dark

green open-top landspeeder. The guy with the thick blond beard?"

Lando pulled back the side of his hood for better visibility. "I'll be  a

scruffy nerfherder," he breathed. "That's not Zothip, is it?"

"Sure looks like him," Han agreed grimly, fighting the  impulse  to  pull

his own hood a little tighter around his face. Captain  Zothip,  head  of  the

Cavrilhu Pirates, and one of the nastier  forms  of  semi-intelligent  rotscum

he'd ever had the misfortune to cross paths with. Considering  the  bounty  on

Zothip's head, there shouldn't have been a civilized planet  anywhere  in  the

galaxy where he should have been able to show his ugly face.

And yet there he was, crammed into a landspeeder with five  equally  ugly

bodyguards in the middle of the Imperial capital, shouting obscenities at  the

speeder truck as if he owned the whole town. "I'd say we've found the  pirate-

Empire link Luke and me have been looking for," he muttered. "Clones and all."

"I'd say you're right," Lando said, his robe twitching as he shivered. "I

sure hope you're not going to suggest we follow him and confirm it."

Han shook his head. "Not a chance, pal. I tangled with him  once  a  long

time ago.

I haven't the slightest interest in trying it again."

"Me, neither." Lando exhaled audibly. "You  know  something,  Han?  We're

getting old."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Han said. "Come on, let's eat up and  get  back

to the library."

He glanced  up  at  the  brilliant  sunlight  and  blue,  cloudless  sky.

"Suddenly this town seems a lot less friendly than it did five minutes ago."

* * *

The speeder truck finished its maneuvering, the  traffic  began  to  move

again, and Solo and the others went back to their meal.

And setting a high-denomination coin down beside  her  own  half-finished

snack, Karoly left the tapcafe and slipped out into the stream of pedestrians.

Suddenly, there was something more interesting than Solo  and  Calrissian  and

their library research to attract her attention.

Something far more interesting.

The dark green Kakkran landspeeder hadn't made it more than a street away

when she found what she was looking  for:  an  old,  beat-up  Ubrikkian  9000,

untended, parked at the side of the street. Palming her Mistryl-issue inciter,

she hopped into the driver's seat, taking the control stick with one hand  and

sliding the inciter beneath the  readout  panel  with  the  other.  The  motor

coughed reluctantly to life, and with a glance over her  shoulder  she  pulled

out into a gap in the vehicular stream. A  casual  observer  would  have  seen

nothing unusual; she could only hope that the owner wouldn't miss his  vehicle

until she was finished with it.

She wove in and out of traffic until she had trimmed enough off  Zothip's

lead to be able to catch frequent glimpses of the dark green Kakkran. The more

official-looking buildings, including what was obviously the local  governor's

palace, were situated on the higher ground at the northern edge  of  the  city

off to their left.

If the Imperial connection Solo  had  mentioned  was  real,  the  pirates

should be turning off anytime now.

But to her growing surprise, they didn't. Instead, the Kakkran  continued

east, angling northward only after  the  palace  was  far  behind  them.  They

reached the outskirts of the city and headed out into the  wooded  hills  that

bordered the area to the north, and Karoly found herself dropping farther  and

farther back as the traffic thinned out.

The pirates changed roads twice more, curving farther and farther  north,

and Karoly began to regret she'd never gotten around to picking up  a  map  of

the area.

The road they were on seemed to be taking them in  a  circle  around  the

city, which made no sense to her at all unless they were trying to come up  on

the palace from behind.

She was still toying with that thought when the Kakkran  suddenly  pulled

to the side of the road and disappeared into the trees.

She pulled off, too, slipping out of her Ubrikkian and heading  into  the

woods on  foot.  She'd  gone  only  a  little  ways  when  the  sound  of  the

repulsorlifts ahead of her cut off.

"You sure this is it?" a rough voice drifted back toward her through  the

trees.

"Doesn't look like any escape route I've ever seen."

"Trust me, Captain," a more cultured voice assured  him.  "I  scoped  the

place out thoroughly the last time we were here."  Karoly  got  a  glimpse  of

movement through the trees, headed for the cover of a squat bush?

"Here it is," the cultured  man  said;  and  as  Karoly  dropped  into  a

crouching position behind the bush she saw one of the six pirates reach out an

arm and swing away some hanging branches from a tree growing out of the  rocky

cliff face.

"Your typical Imperial rat-run."

Zothip grunted, ducking down to  peer  inside.  "Couple  of  landspeeders

stashed away in there. The tunnel wide enough for 'em, Control?"

"I presume we'll find out," the  cultured  man  said.  "Grinner,  get  it

started."

The pirates disappeared beneath the hanging branches, and a minute  later

there was the sound of a repulsorlift powering  up.  The  sound  revved,  then

faded away into the distance. Karoly gave them a count of ten, then  eased  to

the tree and ducked under the branches.

She found herself in a small room, no more than  twice  as  wide  as  the

tile-walled tunnel that extended into the hills from its  rear  wall,  with  a

small Slipter landspeeder parked along the side. In the  distance,  she  could

see the reflected glow from the other landspeeder's  lights  receding  rapidly

down the tunnel.

Using her inciter, she started up the Slipter, hoping the  sound  of  the

pirates' own vehicle would cover up  the  extra  noise.  Swinging  it  around,

leaving the lights off, she headed off in pursuit.

* * *

"Report from Security Team Eight, sir," the young  trooper  at  the  comm

monitor said, his voice academy crisp. "Three possibles have been spotted in a

landspeeder outside the Timaris Building.  Security  Team  Two  reporting  two

possibles have just entered a jewelry store on the fourteenth block of Bleaker

Street."

"I've got data feeds from both teams," the trooper at one of the computer

displays added. "Running facial matches now."

"He'll be running them against the complete Fleet record system  over  at

Ompersan, Your Excellency," the lieutenant standing  beside  Disra  explained.

"If they've ever crossed paths with the Empire, their faces will be in there."

"Very good, Lieutenant," Disra said, looking around the  darkened  palace

situation room with a mixture of satisfaction and envy. Satisfaction,  because

the command team he'd installed here a year ago was working with the  kind  of

speed and efficiency that had once been the proud  hallmark  of  the  Imperial

military.  Envy,  because  it  wasn't  him  they  were  performing  for.  "Any

suggestions, Admiral?"

Standing behind the main comm monitor station, Thrawn lifted his eyebrows

politely. In the dim lighting his glowing red eyes looked even  brighter  than

usual. "I suggest, Your Excellency," he said, the word "suggest" carrying just

the barest emphasis, "that we first allow the analysis staff to do their work.

There's nothing to be gained by showing our hand until we're sure who the

spies are."

"Maybe they all are," Disra  countered,  suddenly  tired  of  the  polite

condescension. In character or not?dangerous or not?it was high time  he  took

the con man down a  stroke  or  two.  "Coruscant  has  been  trying  to  learn

Bastion's current location for a good two years now. I doubt they would  waste

that hard-fought knowledge just to drop one or two spies on us."

He could feel Tierce's eyes on him,  and  the  heat  of  the  Guardsman's

disapproval of his verbal challenge. But Thrawn's blue-black  eyebrows  merely

lifted politely.

"What do you suggest, then, Your Excellency? That  a  saboteur  team  has

been sent in to bring down our planetary shields in preparation  for  a  major

attack?"

Disra stared  at  him,  the  sudden  jolt  momentarily  sidetracking  his

irritation.

That was precisely the scheme they themselves were  working  against  the

Bothan homeworld of Bothawui. What in the Empire was Flim doing talking openly

about such a thing here?

He was saved from his sudden confusion by the  trooper  at  the  computer

console. "Report from Ompersan,  Admiral,"  the  other  announced.  "Suspected

possibles have been cleared. All are listed as Imperial citizens."

"Very good," Thrawn acknowledged. "Continue the search. Your  Excellency,

I presume you have not forgotten your appointment."

Disra looked at his chrono, suppressing a scowl. Yes, Pellaeon  would  be

arriving at the palace any minute now. And between that time  crunch  and  the

confusion his barbed remark about  saboteurs  had  caused,  the  con  man  had

managed to blunt the Moff's verbal attack without saying anything  that  could

be construed as insubordination.

Just the sort of thing the real Thrawn might have done. Disra supposed he

ought to be pleased. "Thank you for the reminder, Admiral," he said. "Carry on

here.

And let me know the minute?the minute?you find anything."

* * *

They had been back at work for half an hour when Lobot's fingers abruptly

came to a halt. "What is it?" Han asked, the smell of the miasra sauce on  his

breath wafting by Lando's ear as Han leaned over his shoulder. "Are we in?"

"I don't know," Lando said, frowning  at  Lobot.  The  other's  face  had

changed subtly, too, at about the same time his fingers  had  stopped  typing.

More importantly, the pattern of tiny lights on the frequency readout  of  his

cyborg implant had changed. "Something's interrupted his contact with Moegid."

"Uh-oh," Han muttered under his breath. "You think they're on to us?"

"I don't know," Lando said again, studying Lobot's profile and  wondering

if he should try talking to him. Lobot's eyes seemed almost glazed over, as if

he were in a trance or deep in thought. "I've never  seen  that  comm  pattern

before."

"Um." Han reached out and experimentally touched Lobot's shoulder.  There

was no response. "Backup frequency, maybe?"

"Could be," Lando agreed. "I didn't know they'd set up a  second  biocomm

frequency, but that would make sense. I just wish?"

Abruptly, the pattern of  tiny  lights  changed  again.  "Beware,"  Lobot

croaked out, his voice an  eerie  parody  of  a  Verpine's  insectine  speech.

"Security frequencies very active."

"Moegid's talking through him," Lando said, a tight sensation in the  pit

of his stomach. As far he could remember, Lobot and Moegid had never done that

before, either. "Moegid, can you hear me?"

There was a long pause, as if some kind of  awkward  two-way  translation

was taking place. "I hear," Lobot said at last. "Beware. Security  frequencies

very active."

"They're on to us," Han said decisively, standing up. "Come on, let's get

out of here."

"You think that's a good idea?" Lando  asked,  looking  at  the  slightly

blurred scene outside their privacy field. "At least here they'll have to come

right up to us to get a good look at our faces."

"Only if they can't find a display unit to  plug  that  droid  out  there

into," Han said tartly. "Come on, give me a hand with Lobot?he  might  not  be

able to steer himself right now. Moegid, is there anyone snooping  around  the

ship?"

They had made it halfway to the  door,  each  of  them  gripping  one  of

Lobot's upper arms, before Moegid's answer came back. "No one," Lobot  assured

them in the same Verpine croak. "Instructions."

"Stay put," Han told him. "We'll be there as soon as we can.  Better  cut

off your transmissions to Lobot, too."

"And don't touch anything," Lando added. "You start up  the  engines  and

they'll have you targeted in half a minute."

"They might anyway," Han warned as they continued toward the  exit.  "Two

will get you the hand pot they figured out the record Leia and  I  gave  Carib

wasn't taken at Pakrik Minor. All they have to do is run the records  for  any

ships that arrived after that drone probe did."

"Unless Moegid got into the spaceport computer and  changed  our  arrival

date," Lando grunted.

"Was he going to do that?"

"He was going to try. I don't know if he managed it or not."

The lights on  Lobot's  implant  changed  again;  and  suddenly,  like  a

sleepwalker suddenly coming awake, he straightened  up  in  their  grasp,  his

tread becoming steady and firm. "We'll just have to get back  as  fast  as  we

can," Lando said, letting go of Lobot's arm and reaching beneath his cloak  to

loosen  the  small,  undetectable  slugthrower  hidden  there.   Theoretically

undetectable, anyway. "And hope we get there before they do."

* * *

Ahead, the lights from the pirates' landspeeder stopped bouncing.  Karoly

took the cue and brought her own vehicle to a quick halt,  shutting  down  the

repulsorlifts as soon as it was safe to do so.

Just in time. Even as the whine from her  own  repulsorlifts  faded  into

silence she could hear the last echoes of sound  as  the  vehicle  ahead  also

powered down.

The lights were still pointed forward, away from her. Hopping out of  her

landspeeder, she headed that direction in a deceptively  awkward-looking  walk

that struck a balance between speed and silence.

Not that the silent part was all that necessary. Zothip,  in  particular,

didn't seem at all worried about noise. "Typical Imp rat-run, all right,"  his

gruff voice boomed, unnaturally loud in the confines  of  the  tunnel.  "Where

does this turbolift go?"

"Up into the palace, I presume," Control replied.  He  seemed  to  be  at

least making an effort to keep his volume down. "I've never actually?"

"Then where does this other part of the tunnel go?" someone else cut in.

"I don't know," Control said patiently. "As I started to say, I've  never

actually been in here."

Karoly was close enough to see them  now,  framed  at  the  edge  of  the

landspeeder's lights. "We'd better find out," Zothip grunted.  "Grinner,  call

the turbolift and stay here with it when it gets here. The rest of you,  let's

go for a walk."

The five of them strode off through the illumination of the landspeeder's

lights, Zothip in the middle with the four guards  forming  a  protective  box

around him.

The remaining pirate, Grinner, punched  the  turbolift  call  once,  then

turned back to watch his departing comrades.

Karoly had reached the rear of the landspeeder by the time the  turbolift

car arrived. She dropped down behind the rear quarter, freezing in place  with

blaster ready, as Grinner turned back around to where he'd be able to see her.

But with the lights blazing practically in his face,  he  didn't  have  a

hope of spotting her back there in the shadows. He glanced once into the  car,

apparently confirming it was empty, and reached in to push  the  hold  button.

Then, satisfied that he'd carried out his orders, he  turned  back  around  to

watch for Zothip's return.

There were, Karoly realized, not a lot of choices open  to  her  at  this

point, and the ones she had weren't all that palatable. She could  settle  the

Mistryl's score with Zothip right here and now, counting on surprise  and  her

Mistryl training to make up for her  numerical  disadvantage.  But  from  what

she'd overheard, it seemed there  was  something  very  interesting  going  on

between Zothip and someone in the palace above them. A planned  assassination,

perhaps?

Or even a coup?

Not that she particularly cared what happened to Imperial  governors.  Or

soldiers or Moffs, for that matter. The whole lot of them could crash and burn

as far as the Mistryl were concerned. But pirates sneaking into  a  governor's

palace on an Imperial world was just odd enough to have piqued her  curiosity.

Rising from her crouch, she eased silently up behind Grinner.

With his attention down the tunnel, and his mind who knew where, he never

heard a thing. Sidling around behind him, watching to  make  sure  she  wasn't

coming into his peripheral vision, she slipped into the turbolift car.

It was, as she'd guessed from the glimpse she'd gotten of its interior, a

transplanted  military  turbolift  car,  probably  scavenged   from   an   old

Dreadnaught.

And as was the case with all such turbolifts, the door she'd just entered

by was mirrored by another one on the opposite side of the car.

It hadn't been used recently; a single glance told her that much. But  by

the same token, it also looked like it hadn't been sealed.

There was only one way to find out for sure... and the time for that test

was now. In the distance she could hear echoing footsteps, and as  she  looked

back at the doorway she saw Grinner disappear in that direction as he  took  a

few steps down the tunnel toward the returning pirates.

It was the work of five seconds to pull her climbing claws from  her  hip

pouch, open them, fasten them securely to her hands,  and  ease  their  points

into the crack between the closed doors. Setting her teeth, she began to  pull

them apart.

For a moment nothing happened. She pulled harder,  putting  Mistryl-honed

muscle behind it; and with a suddenness that startled  her  they  came  apart,

sliding smoothly and almost noiselessly into the walls of the car.

Unlike the car itself, the turbolift shaft behind the doors  hadn't  been

transplanted from anywhere. It had been carved out of solid rock, with only  a

light gridwork  frame  installed  to  support  the  repulsorlift  and  tractor

equipment that powered the system.

The clearance between the gridwork and the car was minimal, but adequate.

Stepping through the door, turning again to face into the car, she  found

a toehold on the doorframe lip and got a grip on the doors.

She had them pulled back down to a slight crack when Zothip  rounded  the

corner and stomped into the car.

She froze, abandoning the rest of her  effort,  her  eyes  searching  the

outside of the car now. If Grinner noticed the doors were  cracked  more  than

they had been earlier there was going to be trouble. But Grinner hadn't struck

her as the observant type, and there was nothing she could  do  about  it  now

anyway. More important was the fact that if she didn't find a way to hang  on,

she was going to be left behind.

There were no convenient handholds that she could get to, which meant she

was going to have to make some. Timing it to the exact moment when one of  the

pirates stomped into the car, she jabbed her climbing hooks into the grillwork

behind two of the glow panels. She'd barely gotten them set when there was the

vibration of the main doors closing, and they were off.

"So what was at the other end of the tunnel?" she heard  Grinner's  voice

ask through the crack between the doors.

She'd expected the response to come from Zothip,  but  it  was  Control's

voice that answered. "Looked like some sort of apartment,"  he  said.  "Rather

nicely appointed."

"Anyone in it?" Grinner asked.

"Not at the moment," Control said. "But whoever was  living  there  liked

having his own personal Star Destroyer captain's chair."

"His own what?" Grinner growled. "What in Vader's face would anyone  want

with something like that?"

"Very good," Control said archly. "You've got the question. Now if we had

the answer, we'd have a complete set."

"I don't like this," Zothip rumbled.  "I  don't  like  any  of  it.  He's

playing something real close to the chest, and I don't like it."

"Whatever it is, we'll find out soon enough," Control  assured  him.  "We

might want to go in a little quieter than you'd planned, though."

"Oh, we'll go in quiet, all right," Zothip promised darkly. "Don't  worry

about that. He'll never hear a thing."

CHAPTER

21

They had made it five blocks?which was four blocks farther than  Han  had

thought they would get?when the whole thing started to unravel.

"Han?" Lando murmured as the three of them hurried across a  busy  street

with a crowd of other pedestrians. "That security  landspeeder  there  to  the

left just slowed down."

"I know," Han said grimly, peering around the edge of his scholar's hood.

Near as he could tell through the curved windows, there were two  men  in  the

vehicle.

Alert young men, by the looks of them, undoubtedly armed  to  the  teeth.

"That's, what, the third one that's taken an interest in us?"

"About that," Lando sighed. "Where's Luke and his Jedi  tricks  when  you

need them?"

"Luke or Leia," Han added, wishing mightily now that he hadn't argued  so

successfully against her coming on  this  trip.  They  might  well  have  been

spotted a lot sooner; but at least when they were they would have had  a  Jedi

here on their side. "He's turning back around?they're on us, all right."

"Well, don't give up just yet," Lando said, glancing around.  "You  still

have official standing with the New Republic?we may be able to  talk  our  way

out of it.

Especially if they know how Leia reacts when one of her  family  gets  in

trouble."

"You mean like when one of the kids gets kidnapped or  her  husband  gets

beaten to a pulp or something?" Han growled, feeling his face warm.

"I didn't mean it that way," Lando protested.

"Thanks anyway," Han said, looking around for inspiration. His gaze  fell

on a tapcafe across the street with a large  sign  reading  SABACC  TOURNAMENT

TODAY prominently displayed in the privacy-glazed window... "Over  there."  He

nudged Lando in the tapcafe's direction. "You have your slugthrower, right?"

"Uh... yes," Lando said cautiously. "What exactly have you got in mind?"

"What's the one thing security  types  can't  ever  resist?"  Han  asked.

"Especially young, cocky ones?"

"I don't know," Lando said humorlessly. "Working prisoners over?"

Han shook his head. "A good  commotion,"  he  said,  nodding  toward  the

tapcafe. "You take Lobot into the middle of the place and clear it  out.  I'll

handle the rest."

"Right. Good luck."

They made it across the traffic in one piece and went into  the  tapcafe.

Inside, it was just as Han had hoped: large, well  lit,  and  crowded  to  the

gills with sabacc players hunched over tables and  kibitzers  standing  behind

them gazing over their shoulders. Breaking to the right just inside the  door,

he sidled around behind a wall of observers as Lando and  Lobot  worked  their

way in toward the curved bar bulging out into the room from the center of  the

left-hand wall.

By the time they reached it Han had managed to work his way  out  of  his

scholar's robe. Kicking it back out of the way against the wall, he rubbed the

sweat off his palms and waited for Lando to make his move.

He didn't have to wait very long. "All right, that's it!" Lando  abruptly

bellowed, his voice cutting through the low murmur of background  conversation

like a lightsaber through a block of ice. All heads turned toward the bar?

And jerked back in shock and fright as the slugthrower blew a gaping hole

in the ceiling.

"We'll settle this right here and  now,  you  mangy  kowk  brain,"  Lando

shouted over the echoing  thundercrack  and  a  handful  of  gasping  shrieks.

"Everybody else?out!"

It was as unclear to Han as it was to everyone else just  who  the  mangy

kowk brain was that Lando was referring to. But if the sudden panicked  exodus

from the room was any indication, no one seemed eager  to  accept  the  title.

Drinks, cards, and dignity  completely  forgotten,  the  whole  crowd  made  a

concerted dash for the door.

Han let about half of them get past him. Then, shoving his way  into  the

stream, he squeezed through the door and out into the street.

He'd been right about the two  security  men.  Their  quiet  surveillance

totally abandoned, they were pushing their  way  upstream  against  the  crowd

toward the sound of the slugthrower shots, their  blasters  drawn  and  ready.

Elbowing his way crosswise against the flow, Han angled toward them.

Concentrating on the tapcafe, the first one shoved  past  Han  without  a

single glance. Han waited  until  the  second  was  just  passing  him;  then,

grabbing the kid's gun hand, he swiveled on one heel and drove his elbow  hard

into the other's stomach. The air went out of him in a loud,  agonized  whoosh

that clearly announced he was out of the fight.

Unfortunately, the sound also clearly announced trouble to  his  partner.

Even as Han wrenched the  blaster  from  his  victim's  limp  hand  the  other

security man, still enmeshed by the crowd, turned to see what had happened.

The kid was certainly young and agile enough. But he had turned around to

his left, which left his blaster out of line for a quick shot behind him. Han,

on the other hand, already had his appropriated weapon aimed.  With  a  silent

plea for the complete trappings of civilization to be in  place  here  in  the

Imperial capital, he fired.

His plea was answered. Instead of the killing flash of full-power blaster

fire, the weapon in his hand spat the brilliant blue rings of a stun jolt.

The security man dropped like a rock  beneath  the  flow  of  the  crowd,

already scattering away from  this  new  threat  to  their  peace  and  quiet.

Brandishing the blaster high, Han leaped over the prone body and  dashed  back

to the tapcafe.

Inside, the place was deserted. Even the bartender had found somewhere to

disappear to. "Not like the old days in the Outer Rim," Lando commented almost

wistfully, stripping off his own scholar's robe with one hand as he  kept  his

slugthrower ready.

"Lucky for you it isn't," Han  reminded  him.  "On  Tatooine  or  Bengely

there'd have been fifteen blasters on you before you got your second shot off.

Come on?back door's that way."

Nevertheless, he felt a twinge of regret of his own as the three of  them

headed for the back of the tapcafe. Those had indeed been fine days...

* * *

Bracing himself, Disra lifted his eyes from the datapad.  "I  don't  know

what to say, Admiral," he said, careful not to overdo the hurt indignation  in

his voice and expression. "I categorically deny all of this, of course."

"Of course," Pellaeon echoed, his eyes cool and measuring. "I'm sure it's

nothing more than a carefully orchestrated smear campaign against you by  your

political enemies."

Disra bit down on his tongue in annoyance. That had indeed been the  line

he'd been planning to run with. Vader take the man,  anyway.  "I  wouldn't  go

quite that far," he said instead. "I have no doubt that at least some of  your

sources have been sincere. Whatever their motivations  or  sincerity,  though,

their information is wrong."

Pellaeon exchanged glances  with  Commander  Dreyf,  seated  beside  him.

Patient, knowing glances on both sides. "Really," Pellaeon said, looking  back

at Disra. "And what do you suggest is  the  motivation  an  sincerity  of  the

official trading data Commander Dreyf uncovered on Muunilinst?"

"That's section fifteen on the file," Dreyf offered helpfully.  "In  case

you missed it."

Disra ground his teeth, looking back at the datapad. Vader take  Pellaeon

and Dreyf. "All I can suggest  is  that  someone  deliberately  planted  those

numbers," he said.

It  was  an  unbelievably  weak  defense,  and  everyone  in  the  office

undoubtedly knew it. But even as Pellaeon opened  his  mouth  to  most  likely

point that out, there was a diffident tap from across the room and one of  the

double doors swung ponderously open. Disra looked  up,  ready  to  scorch  the

person who'd had the temerity to intrude on a private conversation?

"Your Excellency?" Tierce said, blinking with nicely underplayed surprise

at the sight of the two armed troopers flanking the doorway,  guards  Pellaeon

had had the effrontery to bring in here with him. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir?"

"No, that's all right, Major," Disra said. "What is it?"

"I have an  urgent  message  for  you,  Your  Excellency,"  Tierce  said,

hesitantly crossing toward the desk, his eyes on Pellaeon.  "From  the  palace

situation room."

"Well, let me see  it,"  Disra  growled,  waving  the  other  impatiently

forward and trying to cover his sudden misgivings. Tierce could just as easily

have called down on the comm with news of their spy search; the speaker  focus

was set so that no one but Disra could hear.  To  have  come  down  personally

implied that something had gone seriously wrong...

Tierce reached the desk and handed Disra his datapad. And  something  had

indeed gone seriously wrong.

Enemy spies identified as former New Republic generals Han Solo and Lando

Calrissian plus an unidentified man with cyborg head  implant.  Subjects  were

spotted and identified at the corner of Regisine and Corlioon, but have broken

surveillance  and  escaped.  Capital  Security  is  currently  attempting   to

reestablish contact.

Disra looked up at Tierce, saw the hard edge  to  the  Royal  Guardsman's

eyes. "I don't like getting reports like this," he said darkly. "What  exactly

is the lieutenant doing about it?"

"They're all working on it," Tierce said. "They seem to  be  doing  their

best."

"Is there a problem?" Pellaeon spoke up. His question  was  addressed  to

Disra, but his eyes?and his attention?were clearly on Tierce.  "Perhaps  you'd

like to see to it personally."

Disra ground his teeth again. Yes, he very much wanted to  see  what  was

going on up there. But Pellaeon wouldn't have offered to let  him  squirm  off

the hook, even temporarily, unless he had some devious  plan  of  his  own  in

mind.

He suppressed a smile as it struck him.  Of  course?Pellaeon  wanted  the

chance to pull a quick private interrogation on Tierce, and was trying to  get

the Moff out of the way.

And it was now equally clear that the hope of dangling that precise  bait

in front of him was precisely  Tierce's  reason  for  delivering  the  message

personally.

"Thank you, Admiral," Disra said, getting to his feet. "I believe I will.

Major Tierce, perhaps you'll keep the Admiral and his party  company  until  I

return."

"Me, sir?" Tierce asked, giving the visitors  a  simpleminded,  wide-eyed

expression. "Why, certainly, sir. If the Admiral doesn't mind."

"Not at all," Pellaeon said softly. "I'd be delighted."

"I'll be back soon," Disra promised. "Enjoy yourselves. Both of you."

Thirty seconds later he was back in the situation room. "What in the name

of Vader's teeth happened?" he demanded.

"Calm  yourself,  Your  Excellency,"  Thrawn  said,  his  eyes   flashing

warningly at Disra. "We've only lost them temporarily."

Disra glared at the other, biting back a blistering retort. If this  mess

was the con man's fault, he was going to nail him to the wall. "May I  inquire

how something like this could happen?"

"Solo and Calrissian are combat veterans, highly experienced at survival,

" Thrawn said calmly. "The security men they came up against were neither." He

shrugged, a subtle movement of shoulders beneath the white uniform. "Actually,

it was rather instructive, pointing up as it did some obvious deficiencies  in

Capital Security's training procedures. We'll have to remedy that."

"I'm sure they'll be delighted to have your input," Disra  said,  looking

over at the status board. An overview of the  city  was  currently  displayed,

along with the locations of all the Capital Security forces  scattered  around

it. "Wouldn't it make more  sense  to  concentrate  our  surveillance  on  the

spaceport? They're probably trying to get back to their ship."

"I'm sure they are," Thrawn agreed. "However, if they arrive  to  find  a

ring of stormtroopers blocking their path, they'll simply find an  alternative

way off Bastion."

"I suppose you're right,"  Disra  said  reluctantly.  Tierce's  argument,

undoubtedly.

Most likely his exact  words,  too;  Disra  could  practically  hear  the

Guardsman's characteristic inflections in the con man's voice. "May I ask what

you suggest we do, then?"

Thrawn turned his glowing red eyes toward the status  board.  "The  first

step in catching a sentient prey is to think as  he  does,"  he  said.  Again,

words that sounded straight out of Tierce's mouth.  "What  was  their  mission

here, and how did they intend to accomplish it?"

"How about sabotage?" Disra gritted. "That sound like a likely mission?"

"No,"  Thrawn  said  firmly.  "They  wouldn't  send  men  like  Solo  and

Calrissian in as saboteurs. Spies, perhaps, but not saboteurs."

"Admiral Thrawn?" one of the troopers spoke up from  his  station.  "I've

got a partial backcheck on the targets now. We've got a  droid  download  that

shows they've spent the past three days in the Imperial Library."

"Very good,"  Thrawn  said,  looking  back  at  Disra.  His  head  tilted

fractionally toward an unoccupied corner of the room?

"I'd like to speak with you a moment, Admiral," Disra said, picking up on

the cue. "Privately, if I may."

"Certainly, Your Excellency," Thrawn said, gesturing toward  the  corner.

"Let's step over here."

They crossed to the corner. "Don't tell me?let me guess," Disra muttered,

keeping his voice low. "They're here after the Caamas Document."

"What an amazing revelation,  Your  Excellency,"  Flim  said,  not  quite

sarcastically, his tone changing subtly out  of  his  Thrawn  character.  "The

interesting part is that I've never heard of either Solo or Calrissian  having

anywhere near the slicing training for a job like that."

Disra frowned. Getting past the con man's impertinence,  he  had  a  good

point. A very good point. Disra himself had worked his way into the  Emperor's

Special Files, but he'd had years to do it and any number of experts  to  call

on for advice along the way. "Then the slicer must be the  head-implant  who's

with them," he suggested.

Flim's mouth puckered slightly. "No, I don't think so,"  he  said.  "They

didn't get a good enough look at him for a positive ID, but my guess  is  that

that's Lobot, Calrissian's  old  administrator  from  his  pre-Endor  days  on

Bespin. As far as I know Lobot hasn't got any slicing expertise, either..."

He trailed  off,  his  eyes  suddenly  narrowing.  "What  is  it?"  Disra

demanded.

"There's a trick I heard about once," Flim said slowly. "A slicing  trick

someone in the fringe came up with a few years ago. Now, how  did  that  work?

No, be quiet a minute?let me think."

For a dozen heartbeats the only sound in  the  room  was  the  murmur  of

background conversation as the men working their boards reported to each other

new information as it came in. All of it negative. Disra  took  deep  breaths,

concentrating on keeping a firm leash on  his  impatience.  There  were  enemy

spies loose in his city...

And abruptly, Flim's eyes focused on him again. "Verpines," he said  with

a note of triumph in his tone. "That was it. Verpines."

He took a half step past Disra. "Lieutenant, start a  wide-spectrum  comm

frequency scan,"  he  ordered,  his  voice  suddenly  that  of  Thrawn  again.

"Concentrate on Verpine biocomm frequencies."

The lieutenant's eyebrows didn't even lift. "Yes, sir," he said  briskly,

setting to work.

"Wait a second,"  Disra  said,  almost  grabbing  at  Flim's  sleeve  and

remembering just in time that that would be out of character. "Verpine biocomm

frequencies?"

"It's really an impressively cute trick," Flim said, dropping  his  voice

again to a level where only Disra could  hear.  "You  have  a  Verpine  slicer

sitting off in a hole somewhere while a runner with an implant  tuned  to  his

personal biocomm frequency goes to the system you want to slice. With the data

flow the implant can handle, the whole thing acts  almost  like  a  telepathic

link. The Verpine sees through the implant's eyes and works the slicing on his

own computer board, and the runner's fingers mimic his on the real system."

"He turns him into a puppet, in other words," Disra bit out, his  stomach

twisting with distaste. For an alien to play a human being that way,  even  an

implant who was no longer really human, was a vileness that  bordered  on  the

obscene.

"Basically," Flim agreed casually. "Like I said, a real cute trick."

"I'll take your word for it," Disra growled.  Naturally,  to  a  con  man

mired in the fringe himself, such obscenities were probably just a commonplace

way of life. "So what if they've shut the link down?"

Flim shrugged, the same Thrawn-like gesture he'd  used  earlier.  Out  of

earshot of the other troopers, he was still  cagey  enough  to  stay  visually

within his role.

"Then we crump out, and we'll have to try something else."

Disra looked over at the status board. "What if we  try  broadcasting  on

those biocomm frequencies?" he asked. "Maybe tell  the  Verpine  to  start  up

their repulsorlifts or something? That would at least smoke out their ship for

us."

"We'd have to know how to encode  a  message  into  Verpine,"  Flim  said

doubtfully.

"I doubt we could find someone who can do it fast enough."

"Couldn't a protocol droid handle the translation?"

"Not without a special module,"  Flim  told  him.  "Off-the-floor  models

don't usually come equipped to translate Verpine. Not enough call for it."

He stroked his lower lip thoughtfully. "On the  other  hand,  if  Lobot's

still got the link open from his end, we might be able to pick up a  resonance

echo if we hit the right frequency. That was something  we  used  to  have  to

worry about with our comlinks when we were running against some  of  the  more

sophisticated planetary patrol groups. If we can get a receiver close  enough,

and if we're lucky, we might be able to locate them."

Disra felt his lip twist. "An awful lot of ifs in there."

"I know," Flim conceded. "But we've got to try something, and that's  the

best I can do right now." He nodded toward the door. "Maybe you'd  better  get

Tierce back up here. This is tactics, and he is our tactics expert."

And Pellaeon had had enough time alone with the man, anyway.  "I'll  send

him up," he said, heading toward the door. "Keep me informed, Admiral."

* * *

With one final lurch, the turbolift  car  came  to  a  halt.  "This  it?"

Zothip's voice growled.

"I expect so," Control said as the doors slid open. "Yes?this  should  be

it."

"So which way?" one of the other pirates demanded.

Easing her head to the side, Karoly lined up one eye with the crack still

showing between the back doors. The pirates were half in and half out  of  the

car now, Zothip standing in a narrow passageway outside with his fists set  on

his hips, all of them looking back and forth both  directions  down  a  narrow

corridor.

"I don't know," Control  said,  looking  around  once  himself  and  then

pointing to the left. "Let's try that way first."

"Okay," Zothip said. "Grinner, lock down the  car?we  don't  want  anyone

coming up behind us."

"Right," Grinner said, doing  something  Karoly  couldn't  see  with  the

control board. "Done."

The pirates disappeared out of sight to the  left.  Karoly  gave  them  a

five-count; then, finding a toehold on the doorframe lip, she set her climbing

claws into the crack between the doors and pried them open.

She stepped into the car; and she was just starting to  close  the  doors

again when she heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside.

The pirates were coming back.

There was no time for anything but instinctive reaction. Putting her full

strength into the  effort,  she  pulled  the  doors  to  within  a  couple  of

centimeters of being closed. They hung up there, but there was no time for her

to try to free them. Crossing the car  in  two  quick  strides,  she  squeezed

herself as invisibly as she could into the front left-hand corner.

Just in time. Even as she pressed her climbing claws firmly  against  the

car walls  to  avoid  the  telltale  clink  of  metal  on  metal  should  they

accidentally brush together, the footsteps reached her.

"I don't see what the big deal is that  he's  got  company,"  Zothip  was

muttering as the first puff of air from their passage wafted  in  through  the

car opening. "Anyway, I only heard two voices in there."

"That doesn't mean there aren't more,"  Control  said  patiently  as  the

group passed the open door and continued down  the  passageway.  "Besides,  if

we're seen by the wrong people this arrangement of ours goes straight down."

"So what?" Zothip growled, his voice fading as they  all  continued  down

the corridor. "Canceling the arrangement?and Disra?is the  whole  idea,  isn't

it?"

"We ought to at least talk first," Control said. "We  might  be  able  to

recast the deal."

"Hey, Grinner, you sure know your way around a  control  panel,"  another

voice put in from the rear of the pack as the group continued on its way. "Did

you know that when you locked the car down you popped the back doors?"

Karoly held her breath; but Grinner's response was a brief obscenity  and

an uninterrupted tread down the corridor. She gave  them  another  five-count;

then, pulling off the climbing claws and  putting  them  away,  she  drew  her

blaster and headed out after them.

She wasn't more than a few steps into the corridor when a subtle wave  of

air in her face warned her that somewhere ahead a door had opened. She  picked

up her pace a bit, and came around a slight curve in the  passageway  just  in

time to see a rectangle of muted light close down to a sliver as  the  pirates

closed a door down to a crack. Hurrying silently forward, she stopped  at  the

door and eased her ear against the crack.

"Fancy place," she heard one of the pirates say, his tone  a  mixture  of

contempt and envy. "Look at this?Ramordian silk sheets and everything."

"Maybe he'll give you a set for your bunk," Zothip growled. "Where's the?

oh, there it is."

There was the soft sound of a chair being  pulled  back  across  a  thick

carpet.

Karoly moved her eye around the crack, trying to see what was  going  on.

But from her angle all she could see was a small section of an elaborate  wall

hanging. "What are you going to do?" Control asked.

"Put in a call to his office,"  Zothip  grunted.  "Whoever  he's  got  in

there, I figure he can tell them to wait."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Admiral," Major Tierce said, his fingertips rubbing nervously

at the sides of his pant legs. "But with all due respect, I really don't  know

what you're talking about. I don't think I've ever been to Yaga  Minor.  If  I

have, it would have been as part of a training cruise  when  I  was  a  cadet.

Certainly not?what did you say; six weeks ago?"

"About that," Pellaeon said, watching Tierce's face closely  and  wishing

mightily that he had enough evidence on him to order a full  verity  analysis.

The man was lying through his teeth?that much Pellaeon was sure of. But  until

he could positively identify Tierce as the man  who'd  sliced  into  the  Yaga

Minor computer system, there was nothing else he could do.

Or until that New  Republic  slicer  Ghent  found  evidence  of  Tierce's

tampering.

That was a wild card neither Tierce nor Disra knew about.

Behind Pellaeon, the double doors swung open. "I apologize for the delay,

Admiral," Disra said, striding past Commander Dreyf and around the side of the

ivrooy desk. "That will be all, Major," he added curtly to Tierce.

"Yes, Your Excellency," Tierce said. For the briefest instant their  eyes

met, and Pellaeon thought he saw Disra give his aide a microscopic nod.  Then,

moving with the air of a man trying to run from a  group  of  besiioths  while

still keeping some shreds  of  dignity,  the  major  crossed  the  office  and

escaped.

"I trust Major Tierce was congenial company for you," Disra commented.

"Quite congenial," Pellaeon  assured  him,  studying  that  twisted  face

closely. Not so much a face as a mask, he thought, built to conceal  the  mind

behind it.

And he knew what was in that mind. The trouble was, he couldn't prove it.

Not yet. But let him have one slip on Disra's part?just one?

"Now, where were we?" Disra asked briskly, leaning back in his chair. The

short break had definitely done his confidence a mountain of good.  "Oh,  yes?

those unfounded and slanderous things other people have been saying about  me.

It's occurred to me, Admiral?"

He broke off as the call signal sounded from his desktop comm.  Scowling,

he leaned forward again and jabbed the switch. "Yes?" he barked. "What is it??

"

He stiffened, his eyes widening momentarily, his jaw dropping a  fraction

of a centimeter. His eyes darted to Pellaeon, back to the comm display.  "Yes,

I'm busy," he growled. "And I don't appreciate being interrupted this way for?

"

Abruptly he stopped. Pellaeon strained his  ears,  but  the  speaker  was

focused toward Disra and he could  hear  nothing  from  his  position  on  the

opposite side of the desk.

And then Disra's eyes widened again... and Pellaeon saw something he  had

never seen before. Something he had never expected to see.

Moff Disra, liar, conniver, and probable traitor, went white.

Dreyf saw it, too. "Your Excellency?" he asked, standing up and  starting

around the side of the desk.

The moment of shock passed, and Disra's expression of  stunned  disbelief

suddenly changed to that of a crazed rancor. "Back!" he snarled at Dreyf,  his

hand slashing at him as if trying to ward away a dangerous  animal.  "I'm  all

right.

Just stay back."

Dreyf stopped, throwing a confused look at  Pellaeon.  "Is  anything  the

matter, Your Excellency?" Pellaeon asked.

"Everything's fine, Admiral," Disra  said,  the  words  coming  out  like

they'd been sent through a grain-grinder. His eyes, Pellaeon noted, were still

fixed on the comm display. "If you'll excuse me again, there's another  matter

I need to attend to right away."

He stood up, keying off the comm with a vicious stab of his finger. "I'll

be right back," he growled, heading at  a  not-quite  run  toward  the  double

doors.

"Of course," Pellaeon called after him. "Take whatever time you need."

The last word was cut off by the boom as the  doors  closed  behind  him.

"Well, that was interesting," Dreyf commented, looking at the doors  and  then

back at Pellaeon. "Another trick to buy himself some breathing space?"

"I don't think either of these interruptions has been an  act,"  Pellaeon

said, frowning thoughtfully at the Moff's desk. Historically, the majority  of

people who were able to afford culture-grown  ivrooy  furniture  were  wealthy

politicians, industrialists, and fringe crimelords. All  of  whom  always  had

things to hide...

"No, something's going on out there. Something important."

"Mm," Dreyf murmured. "Shall I wander down the hall and see if I can find

out what it is?"

"Maybe later," Pellaeon said. "In the meantime, it seems we've been  left

alone.

In Disra's office."

Dreyf lifted his eyebrows in understanding. "Yes, we have,  haven't  we,"

he agreed, looking around the office. His gaze fell on the desk... "Of course,

it's a little dubious legally," he reminded his superior, throwing a  sideways

glance at the two troopers guarding the door. "We haven't got a search  order,

and Disra hasn't been officially charged with anything."

"I'll take the responsibility," Pellaeon said. "Go ahead and see what you

can find."

"Yes, sir," Dreyf said, giving him a tight smile as he circled around  to

the other side of the desk. "It'll be a pleasure."

* * *

Tierce was standing near the door as Disra burst into the situation room.

"We've got an echo," the  former  Guardsman  murmured,  a  note  of  malicious

satisfaction in his voice. "Once we triangulate in?"

"Zothip's here," Disra cut him off. "He's in my quarters."

Tierce's smile vanished. "How?"

"How in blazes should I know?"  Disra  shot  back.  "But  he's  there.  I

recognized the furnishings when he called me in my office."

Tierce threw a look at the  consoles,  at  Flim  holding  position  again

behind the lieutenant. "This just gets better and  better,"  he  said  darkly.

"Did Pellaeon hear any of it?"

"I don't think so," Disra said. "That  slinker  of  his?Dreyf?started  to

come around the desk, but I don't think he could hear or see anything, either.

"

Tierce hissed between his teeth. "We've got to get rid of him."

"Brilliant tactical thinking," Disra growled. "You have  any  suggestions

as to how? He didn't come alone, you know."

Tierce looked over at the consoles again. "I can't just walk out of here,

" he said. "Solo and Calrissian are slippery. Until Security actually has them

in their sights?"

"We can't just leave Zothip resting his feet in there, either," Disra cut

him off. "Don't you understand? He's in my quarters. That means he  has  clear

passage to my office. Where Admiral Pellaeon is."

Tierce looked sharply at him. "You left Pellaeon alone?"

"Of course he's alone," Disra snapped. "What was I supposed to  do,  tell

the outer door guards to go in and watch him?"

"That wouldn't have been such a bad idea," Tierce retorted. He held up  a

hand. "All right, all right, let's take this in order. Pellaeon...  I  suppose

he'll keep.

Solo and Calrissian?"

"We've got a second biocomm frequency echo, Admiral," one of the troopers

reported, looking up at Flim. "Security reports ready to move in as soon as we

have a solid fix on the location."

"Thank  you,"  Thrawn  said,  turning  those  glowing  eyes  toward   the

conversation by the door. "Continue the operation. Is there  a  problem,  Your

Excellency?"

"A small problem only, Admiral Thrawn,"  Tierce  spoke  up  before  Disra

could answer. "But it may require a few minutes of your attention."

"Certainly," Flim said easily.

"What are you doing?" Disra hissed as the con man crossed the room toward

them.

"You aren't suggesting??"

"There are only two ways to deal with someone like Zothip," Tierce  said,

his voice cold. "Kill him, or scare him." He  nodded  toward  Flim.  "Can  you

think of anything that could possibly scare him more than a Grand Admiral?"

Flim had reached them in time to hear the last part. "Who are  we  trying

to scare?" he asked.

"Captain Zothip," Disra said. "He's in my quarters."

Flim's eyes widened, just noticeably.  He  looked  at  Tierce?"You'll  be

fine," the Guardsman soothed him. "Zothip's in this for the profit, and you're

our guarantee there will be profit. He's not going to risk hurting you."

"Unless he's here for revenge," Flim pointed out uneasily. "For  the  job

Pellaeon did on him out at Pesitiin, remember?"

"He'll forget all about  that  the  minute  he  sees  you,"  Tierce  said

impatiently. "At any rate, I'll be there with you. Whoever he's got in  there,

I can handle them.

You'll be fine."

"What about Solo?" Flim persisted, glancing back to the  consoles.  "What

if they lose him again?"

"How?" Tierce countered. "We've picked up two echoes?we know what part of

the city they're in. They'll have them in restraints by the time we get  back.

Now let's go."

Flim grimaced, but  nodded.  "Continue  the  operation,  Lieutenant,"  he

ordered, half turning, his calm Thrawn voice betraying  none  of  his  obvious

nervousness. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Tierce gestured toward the door, and together the three  of  them  headed

out. "I don't know," Flim muttered, just loud enough for  Disra  to  hear.  "I

don't think I'm going to like this at all."

* * *

Their first warning was a sudden, subtle jerking motion from Lobot. "What

is it?" Lando asked, peering at the other.

"What is what?" Han asked from Lobot's other side.

"He seemed to hesitate right there," Lando said, pulling back the floppy-

brimmed hat that had taken over the job of camouflaging Lobot's  head  implant

and studying the tiny indicator lights there. The pattern wasn't the same  one

that had been showing the last time he looked.

"Maybe he just  stumbled,"  Han  said  impatiently,  looking  around  the

crowds. "Come on, we've got to keep moving."

"Hold on a minute," Lando  insisted,  widening  his  examination  to  the

suddenly introspective expression on Lobot's  face.  He  knew  the  other  far

better than Han did, and it was clear to him that both  the  jerking  movement

and the other's strange look were indications that something odd was going on.

Ignoring it would be just begging for trouble.

"Lando?"

"Just a minute," Lando cut him off. Abruptly, Lobot jerked a second time,

the indicator lights again changing their pattern. They held the new  array  a

moment, then changed back?

And with a sudden hollow  feeling  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach,  Lando

realized what had just happened. "They're doing a comm echo search,"  he  told

Han. "Keyed to Verpine biocomm frequencies."

"Terrific," Han said, catching Lobot's arm to  steady  him  and  frowning

under the brim at the implant. "They have the right frequency yet?"

"Doesn't look like it," Lando said, looking around for inspiration.  They

were still a half hour away from the spaceport  if  they  stayed  on  foot.  A

landspeeder could get them there faster, but that would mean either hiring  or

stealing one.

Each option carried its own set of risks.

His eyes fell on a large, glistening sign over one of the shops just down

the street. A sign bragging in large print about hundreds of droids in  stock,

the best prices in the Empire, and everything on sale for one day only...

"Come on," he said, taking Lobot's other arm and pulling him  toward  the

droid shop. "In here. I've got an idea."

They made it inside before the Imperials' frequency search hit the  right

one again. "What now?" Han muttered, looking around the wall-to-wall crowd  of

bargain-hunters.

"Over there," Lando told him, shouldering his way toward an overhead sign

marking the astromech droid section. "We need about a dozen R2 or R8 models."

"No problem," Han assured him, craning his neck to look over the mass  of

shoppers. "I see at least twenty of them. I hope you remember  what  our  cash

supply is like."

"We're not going to buy them," Lando said. "All we're going to do is talk

to them."

They pushed their way through the crowd  and  into  the  astromech  droid

section, which was?not surprisingly?less densely populated  than  the  servant

and chef droid areas seemed  to  be.  "Good  afternoon,  worthy  citizens,"  a

silver-colored protocol droid said, stepping up to them. "I am  C-5MO,  human-

cyborg relations.

May I assist you in your selection?"

"Yes, thank you," Lando said. "We're looking for a droid that  can  serve

as a long-range comm interface on certain very select frequencies."

"I see, sir," the droid said, half turning to gesture toward the lines of

shiny rounded cylinders behind him. "May I suggest something from  either  the

R2 or R8 line. Both lines come with full-frequency comm  systems  as  standard

equipment."

"Sounds good," Lando said, stepping toward the line of R8s. "Do you  mind

if I give them a little test?"

"Of course not, sir," the protocol droid said. "Feel free  to  administer

any test you choose."

"Thank you." Lando gestured to the first R8. "You?first in line?I'd  like

you to transmit a multitonal signal on the following  frequency."  He  rattled

off the number. "Next one: I'd like you to do different tones on  a  different

frequency." He supplied the number.

"Just  a  moment,  sir,"  the  protocol   droid   interrupted,   sounding

distressed. "I'm afraid you can't simply transmit unauthorized comm signals in

the middle of the city?"

One of the R8s twittered a short message. "Oh," the protocol droid  said,

somewhat taken aback. "You're certain  neither  frequency  is  used  here?  By

anyone?"

The R8  gave  an  affirmative  warble.  "I  see,"  the  droid  said.  "My

apologies, sir.

Please continue."

Lando continued down the line, giving each droid one of the major Verpine

biocomm frequencies to transmit on. "All right," he said when he had finished,

turning back to the C-5MO. "Excellent. Now, if you'll keep them  transmitting,

I'll go out to my landspeeder and make sure they're  holding  the  frequencies

properly."

"You wish to leave them transmitting?" the droid asked, starting to sound

distressed again. "But, sir?"

"You can't expect us to buy such a large order just  on  your  word  that

they're transmitting correctly, can you?" Han put in. "Don't worry?one of  our

people will still be here." He pointed across the way at a man in a dark green

coat examining the line of servant droids.

"He'll stay here until we get this checked out  and  get  back  to  you,"

Lando added.

"You do extend corporate credit for orders of twenty or more, don't you?"

"Certainly, sir,"  the  droid  said,  brightening  considerably.  "You'll

simply need to show your corporate authorization when you place your order."

"Good," Lando said, lifting his eyebrows at Han. The other took the hint,

easing Lobot toward the nearest exit sign. "We'll be back in a few minutes."

Two minutes later, they were out on the street again. "Nice  touch,  that

bit about leaving someone behind," Lando commented to Han. "Should  buy  us  a

few more minutes before they start asking themselves awkward questions."

"As long as they don't start a conversation with the  guy,  anyway,"  Han

grunted.

"So what's the plan? Straight back to the ship?"

"It was," Lando said. "Unless you think it would be worth the time to  be

a little more devious than that."

"I wonder," Han said, rubbing his cheek. "Those droid transmissions ought

to blanket any more echo searches, at least for now. But they did already have

an idea where we were in the city. If we can hop a cargo carrier,  that  would

let us get around the spaceport and hit it from the other side."

"If we don't get caught," Lando warned. "They take a dim view around here

of people riding cargo carriers."

"It's worth the risk," Han said, making it clear that he'd  already  made

up his mind. "Come on?nearest access is this way."

CHAPTER

22

The conversation?or at least the  part  Karoly  had  been  able  to  hear

through the half-open door?had been short, sharp, and unpleasant.

And very enlightening. The Cavrilhu Pirates, allied with the Empire?

On one level,  she  supposed,  it  wasn't  that  much  of  a  revelation,

particularly  not  after  that  overheard  conversation   between   Solo   and

Calrissian. Imperials had been doing under-the-board business with  the  dregs

of the fringe for years, after all, from that  accursed  murderer  Palpatine's

cozy relationship with Prince Xizor on down. Now that the vast,  star-spanning

Empire had been reduced to a pitiful handful of sectors, all the  more  reason

they would have to hire out some of their dirty work.

But on another level, this was indeed something new. Zothip  hadn't  been

talking to Moff Disra as a hireling would to his master, but as a full  equal.

A very unhappy equal, moreover, if the pirate  chief's  tone  and  streams  of

invective were any indication.

Even more interesting, given Zothip's veiled threats  to  go  public,  it

would also appear that this arrangement was neither  sanctioned  by  nor  even

known to the rest of the Imperial leadership.

Karoly had originally followed Zothip with the idea of  exacting  revenge

against the pirates for their part in the Lorardian slaughter three years ago.

Now, she had stumbled on something far more interesting.

"You think he'll come?" one of the pirates' voices intruded  on  Karoly's

musings.

" 'Course he will," Zothip grunted. "You think he wants us announcing our

deal on the all-Bastion comm broadcast frequency?"

"He won't be coming alone," Control's voice warned.  "He'll  have  guards

with him."

"Not many of 'em," Zothip said. "There aren't a lot of people  that  slug

trusts."

"A hidden backup might still be a good idea," Control  said,  and  Karoly

could hear the verbal nudging in his tone. "Just in case."

"Oh, all right," Zothip conceded with ill grace.  "Crans,  Portin?go  get

back in the passageway. If I whistle, come out and kill everything that's  not

us."

There was  a  pair  of  acknowledgments  and  the  sound  of  approaching

footsteps.

Moving with considerably less noise, Karoly retreated around  the  slight

bend in the passageway. The dim light increased as the pirates pulled open the

door, decreased again as they partially closed it down.

And she now had a decision to make. Back here, four meters behind the two

hidden pirates and their mutterings, she wouldn't be able to hear the upcoming

conversation between Zothip and Disra the way she'd  like  to.  Moreover,  the

thought of even an Imperial Moff getting ambushed by the likes of the Cavrilhu

Pirates did not sit well with her.

She smiled tightly in the darkness at the irony of the situation. It  was

precisely the same thing Shada had objected to back on that windswept  rooftop

on Borcorash five weeks ago, and the reason Karoly was even here.

But the deep philosophical considerations could wait till another day. In

the meantime, the Cavrilhu Pirates owed a death debt to the Mistryl... and the

first installment would be collected right here and now. Putting  her  blaster

away, Karoly drew a pair of slender knives and moved silently forward.

Crans and Portin, crouched side by side behind the partially  open  door,

whispering and chuckling to each other in grim anticipation of the carnage  to

come, never even heard her coming.

It was another minute's work to quietly drag the bodies a few meters back

in the passageway where they'd be out from underfoot. Then, returning  to  the

partially open door, she crouched down and eased the tip of one of her  knives

along the thick carpet into the room.

The image reflected in the metal was small and  somewhat  distorted,  but

Karoly had done this a thousand times before and knew how to read it. As she'd

expected, Zothip and his three remaining men were all facing the  ornate  door

set into the right-hand wall. Zothip  was  seated  rather  arrogantly  at  the

Moff's computer desk, the others slouched against walls or pieces of furniture

at various other places around the room. All were fingering blaster  butts  or

rubbing gun hands in preparation; all were well clear of her line of fire  and

the ambush they still thought was set up.

She was just working through her likely attack plan, should  it  come  to

that, when there was the soft click of a lock from across the room. Instantly,

the pirates' muttered conversation ceased. The door swung open,  and  two  men

stepped inside.

The one on the right was Moff Disra; that much was obvious from  his  age

and his robe of office and the arrogant hauteur with which he strode into  the

room. The second man, on Disra's right, dressed in an Imperial uniform?

Karoly felt her breath catch in her throat, an unpleasant tingling on the

back of her neck. The second man was a warrior.

Not a soldier: a warrior. She could see it in his stance, in his walk, in

the way he held his hands, in the way his eyes took in the situation in  front

of him.

Control had warned that Disra would bring guards with him. Dimly,  Karoly

wondered if any of the pirates was capable of recognizing the warrior  beneath

the uniform.

Zothip himself, apparently, could not. "Took your own sweet time  getting

here," he growled as the warrior swung the door closed. "Who's the nerf?"

"Get out of my chair," Disra growled  back,  ignoring  the  question  and

gesturing irritably at the lounging pirate chief.

"I'm doing the talking here, Disra,"  Zothip  said,  making  no  move  to

vacate the chair. "Wait a minute?I know you," he added, leveling a  finger  at

the warrior. "Yeah?you're the snotter who pulled all my advisers  out  on  me.

You rotten, rark-eating sovler."

Karoly winced, half expecting sudden death to be the  warrior's  response

to the insult. But he wasn't so easily provoked. "That's right," he said,  his

voice glacially calm. "I'm Major Tierce. And as I explained at the  time,  the

Empire had a more pressing need for their services."

"So you just upped and pulled them, huh?"  Zothip  countered,  his  voice

darkening.

"Well, maybe that's how you Imperial dreg-sifters do things.  But  that's

not how it's done in the fringe. You make a  deal,  you  stick  with  it."  He

leveled his finger again. "Or you get to spend your last couple of minutes  of

life regretting it."

"I thought that in the fringe you also didn't lose your nerve," Disra put

in disdainfully. "Did Pellaeon scare you that badly?"

"Never mind Pellaeon," Zothip bit out. "I'll deal with him  later.  Right

now you're the one in the hot circle. Starting with full compensation  for  my

battlecruiser and the eight hundred men who died with it."

"Apparently, he has lost his nerve, Your Excellency," Tierce  said.  "The

sabacc pot's grown too big for his taste, and he wants out."

Zothip snorted. "Words. That's all it  is  with  you,  Disra.  Words  and

promises, and we end up doing all the work and all the dying. But not anymore.

I figure twenty million ought to cover it?"

"Suppose we can show you we have more than words," Tierce interrupted, an

edge of challenge to his voice. "Suppose we can give you proof that the Empire

is once again on the rise, and that this time there will be  no  stopping  us.

Would you still want to quit?"

Zothip laughed, a thoroughly humorless sound. "Proof, huh? If  you  think

anything you've got can?"

He broke off as behind Disra and Tierce the door again swung open. One of

the pirates half drew his blaster?

"Good afternoon, Captain Zothip," the white-uniformed figure said  calmly

as he stepped into the room. "Permit me to introduce myself. I'm Grand Admiral

Thrawn."

* * *

It took Commander Dreyf less than a minute to locate  the  secret  drawer

hidden away beneath the ivrooy  desk's  writing  surface.  It  took  only  two

minutes longer, with the help of some rather illegal tools, for him  to  force

it open.

Inside were eight datacards. Three of them carried the labels of official

governmental briefings: one from the Ubiqtorate,  the  other  two  from  Fleet

Intelligence.

But the other five...

"Make copies of  them,"  Pellaeon  ordered  as  Dreyf  slid  one  of  the

unlabeled datacards into his datapad. "All of them, even  the  official  ones.

We'll see what the Chimaera's decrypt section can do with them."

"Let me try something first, if  I  may,  sir,"  Dreyf  said,  pulling  a

datacard from his pocket and inserting it into his datapad's  auxiliary  slot.

"One of the little extras that fell out of  my  backcheck  of  Lord  Graemon's

finances was the encrypt he was using to communicate back  to  Bastion.  Let's

see if Disra was careless or overconfident enough to use the same one  here...

Well, well. Our clever little Moff seems to have missed a bet."

He smiled tightly at Pellaeon. "It's here, Admiral. It's all here."

Pellaeon stepped to his side and looked over his shoulder. It was  there,

all right:  names,  dates,  amounts,  details  of  the  various  transactions.

Everything. "You'll be able to link this with Graemon's end of the operation?"

he asked.

"Easily," Dreyf assured him, still scrolling through  the  files.  "Disra

was even kind enough to supply dates on everything. All I really need to do?"

"Wait," Pellaeon cut him off, slapping fingertips  at  the  other's  arm.

Something had caught his eye as it went past. "Back up a few  files.  No,  try

one more. One more."

And there it was: the name Pellaeon had spotted  going  past.  The  name,

current location, imprisonment order?

"Colonel Meizh Vermel," Dreyf read,  frowning.  "Isn't  he  one  of  your

aides, Admiral?"

"He is indeed," Pellaeon said, his satisfaction  with  the  catch  they'd

just made vanishing suddenly into the haze of dark fury. "He vanished while on

a special mission for me."

"Did he, now," Dreyf said, his own voice darkening. "So Disra's  branched

out into kidnapping now, has he?"

"Only on special occasions," Pellaeon said, looking at the hidden drawer.

Dreyf had done an efficient job of forcing the lock, but there was no way  the

damage could be covered up. The minute Disra opened the drawer again he  would

know someone had been in there.

And Pellaeon came to a decision. "Never  mind  copying  them,"  he  said,

gathering up the datacards. "We'll take the originals."

Dreyf blinked. "Sir? But?"

"And we're leaving," Pellaeon added, looking over at one of the  troopers

guarding the door. "Signal the Chimaera," he ordered. "Captain  Ardiff  is  to

prepare for departure as soon as I'm aboard. Then call Lieutenant Marshian  at

the shuttle and tell him we're on our way."

"Yes, sir." The trooper pulled out his comlink.

"What about Disra?" Dreyf asked. "We haven't settled with him yet."

"Disra will keep," Pellaeon said grimly. "Right now, my main  concern  is

to get Vermel free before Disra decides he's a liability."

"You'll be going yourself?"

"Yes," Pellaeon said, sliding the hidden drawer closed. "Depending on how

Disra's set up the imprisonment order, it may take my  personal  authority  as

Supreme Commander to get him out. Besides, at this point I don't trust  anyone

off the Chimaera not to be in Disra's pocket."

"Or in Thrawn's?" Dreyf murmured.

Pellaeon grimaced. "If Thrawn is indeed alive," he said. "Regardless, I'm

going."

"It could be tricky," Dreyf warned, dropping into step beside Pellaeon as

they headed for the double doors. "Rimcee Station is  a  couple  days'  flight

away.

Disra's certainly going to miss these datacards before then."

"Don't worry, I have a few tricks of my own  available,"  Pellaeon  said.

"Trooper?"

"Lieutenant Marshian reports the shuttle will be ready  to  fly  when  we

arrive, sir," the trooper reported. "Captain Ardiff reports likewise  for  the

Chimaera."

"Good," Pellaeon said, motioning the troopers to open  the  doors.  "Then

let's not keep them waiting."

* * *

For a few seconds the room was utterly quiet. The silence of a cave, or a

forest, or a tomb. Disra let the stillness  linger,  thoroughly  enjoying  the

look of stunned disbelief on Zothip's face. It was high time the cocky, slime-

eating pirate ran face-first into something his  noise  and  bluster  couldn't

handle.

He would have liked to see the consternation last a  little  longer.  But

for reasons known only to himself, the con man chose to break the spell.  "You

seem surprised by my presence here," he  said,  his  smooth  Thrawn  voice  as

absolutely perfect as the silence had been. "I can only conclude  you  haven't

been paying attention to the news coming out of Coruscant."

For a moment Zothip's  mouth  worked  silently,  the  movement  amplified

grotesquely by the bushy beard, before he finally  found  his  voice.  "No,  I

heard you were back," he  said  at  last,  the  words  coming  out  with  some

difficulty. The sound of his voice seemed to  embolden  him.  "I  just  didn't

believe it, that's all," he added, straightening his shoulders.

"Why not?"

Zothip's eyes darted to one of his men, as if reassuring him that he  was

the one in control here. "Because I figured anyone who'd gotten away from this

slime-hole of an Empire wouldn't be stupid enough to come back," he said,  his

voice suddenly aggressive again.

On Thrawn's other side, Tierce stirred. But Thrawn  merely  smiled.  "Not

bad," he said. "A bit slow, but otherwise not bad at all."

Zothip's eyebrows pressed together. "What are you talking about?"

"The Empire is poised to rise again," Thrawn said, crossing in  front  of

Disra as he gave each of the other three pirates a brief, measuring look. "And

while we certainly do not need allies, we are also not averse to having them."

One of the pirates, standing behind Zothip and a little ways  toward  the

right-hand wall, snorted in a refined sort of way. "Is that how you  think  of

us?" he demanded, folding his arms across his chest. "As allies?"

"Control's right," Zothip seconded, jerking a thumb back  at  the  other.

"You give the orders and pull the profits while we do  the  dirty  work.  What

kind of ally is that?"

"The kind of ally who stands to gain position beyond his wildest dreams,"

Thrawn said, his voice cooling noticeably. "Position, power, and the wealth to

buy and sell whole systems."

"And when is all this supposed to happen?" Control put in. He was,  Disra

noted with a touch of uneasiness, drifting slowly away from Zothip toward  the

wall. As if distancing himself from his boss in preparation for some  kind  of

action...

Tierce saw it, too. Out of the corner of his eye Disra saw the  Guardsman

take a quiet step that same direction,  maintaining  his  same  distance  from

Control as he simultaneously moved closer to the other pirate leaning  against

the wall to Zothip's left.

Which left only  the  pirate  standing  at  Zothip's  right  out  of  the

Guardsman's quick reach. Disra glanced furtively that direction, hoping Tierce

hadn't forgotten about him.

"Quite soon," Thrawn  assured  him.  "Most  of  the  pieces  are  already

prepared and in position. Those which aren't will be soon."

"Those pieces being your other allies?" Control suggested. "Is  that  how

you see us? As pieces in a game?"

"I don't like being called anyone's game piece,"  Zothip  growled  before

Thrawn could reply. "We're the Cavrilhu Pirates. We don't play any  games  but

our own."

He broke off at a twitter from the computer desk. "You expecting a call?"

he asked sarcastically.

Disra ignored the comment, stepping forward and keying  the  comm  as  he

swiveled the display around to face him. "Yes?"

It was the lieutenant in the situation room... and from the look  on  his

face Disra could tell it  wasn't  good  news.  "Your  Excellency,  we  have  a

problem," the other said tautly. "The spies appear to have slipped out of  the

net."

Disra bit back a curse. "How?"

"They used droids from a shop to blanket the Verpine biocomm frequencies,

" the lieutenant said, sounding disgusted. "By the time we  located  the  shop

and shut off the transmissions, they'd made  it  out  of  range  of  our  echo

detectors. Is Grand Admiral Thrawn there with you?"

"Yes," Thrawn said, stepping to Disra's side. "I'll be there shortly.  In

the meantime, disperse your echo detectors into a grid pattern to  both  sides

of their last location and see if you can pick them up again."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said.

Disra blanked the display, throwing a quick glare at  Tierce.  He  should

never, ever have let himself be talked into  this  confrontation  with  Zothip

while Solo and Calrissian were still on the loose. "We'd better get back,"  he

said, looking at Thrawn.

"So what, you're just going to leave us  here?"  Control  asked.  He  had

backed away another step from Zothip, his arms still folded across his chest.

"Don't be absurd," Disra snapped, suddenly very tired of Zothip  and  his

pirates.

"You don't want to be on the winning side? Fine?there are plenty who  do.

Major Tierce, call for an escort to show our visitors out."

"You hold it right there," Zothip rumbled, heaving his bulk  out  of  the

chair and dropping his hand to his blaster. "We'll  leave  when  I've  got  my

twenty million.

Now fork it over or else."

"Or else what?" Disra demanded. "You ungrateful, slimy?"

"That's it," Zothip snarled. Lifting a finger to his  mouth,  he  blew  a

piercing whistle. The two pirates on either side  of  him  grabbed  for  their

blasters?

And Tierce moved.

The pirate nearest to the Guardsman never even got his blaster  clear  of

its holster before Tierce was on him. A short jab?a blurred movement of hands?

a muffled snap of bone?and the pirate crumpled to the  carpet  like  an  empty

sack.

There was a startled curse from his compatriot across at Zothip's  right;

but even as Disra turned his head to look, there was  a  whisper  of  movement

from Tierce's direction and the hilt of a knife sprouted suddenly in the man's

chest.

A knife that joined the one already sticking out of his neck.

Disra caught his breath, his eyes darting away from  the  pirate  to  the

tall, slender woman who had suddenly  appeared  in  the  room  by  the  hidden

doorway. Her hand twitched, there was a flicker of reflected light?

And  Zothip  gasped  with  pain,  lurching  forward  directly  into   the

devastating kick Tierce had thrown at his stomach. Another  agonized  gasp  as

the kick connected, and the  pirate  chief  sprawled  with  a  thud  over  the

computer desk, his blaster flying out of a suddenly limp hand to land  on  the

floor.

And Disra found himself staring at the knife hilt that  had  appeared  in

the center of Zothip's back. A gift, obviously, from the woman.

He looked up at her as she walked quietly to the desk, ignoring the three

Imperials. Gripping Zothip's beard, she turned his dulled eyes up to face her.

"That was for Lorardian," she said, her voice quiet but bitter.

Zothip's mouth moved once, but no sound came out. The  dull  eyes  became

duller, and closed, and as the woman let go of his beard he sagged  once  more

and lay still.

Again a silence descended on the room. And once again, Thrawn was the one

who broke it. "Nicely done," he said. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Not that I needed it," Tierce put  in  tautly.  Disra  glanced  at  him,

noting with some surprise that the Guardsman had produced a small blaster from

somewhere and had it trained on the woman. "Who are you?"

She looked up from Zothip's body, her eyes dark and slightly contemptuous

as she looked Tierce up and down. "Apparently, not  all  your  people  are  as

appreciative as you are, Admiral Thrawn," she said, ignoring  the  Guardsman's

question.

"You'll have to forgive Major Tierce," Thrawn said soothingly. "My safety

is one of his primary concerns, a responsibility he takes very seriously.  But

he doesn't understand you the way I do." He  waved  toward  Tierce's  blaster.

"You may put the weapon away, Major. The Mistryl shadow  guards  do  not  kill

casually or without cause."

Disra suddenly felt cold. A Mistryl shadow guard? Here in his palace?

The woman blinked, obviously taken aback by Thrawn's  revelation  of  her

identity.

"How did you know who I was?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

"Come now," Thrawn said, mildly reproving as  he  waved  a  languid  hand

around at the carnage. "After that demonstration of your  combat  skills,  who

else could you be but a Mistryl? And of course, there was  your  reference  to

Lorardian," he added, his voice softening. "My condolences on that."

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  almost  reluctantly  tilting   her   head   in

acknowledgment. "I didn't think anyone else knew or cared what happened there.

"

"Information is part of my job," Thrawn said.

"I suppose so." The woman nodded to her left. "What are you  planning  to

do with the leftovers?"

"I don't know yet," Thrawn said. "Tell me, Control: what shall we do with

you?"

Disra shifted his gaze  away  from  the  woman,  suddenly  and  belatedly

realizing that the last pirate had indeed not been accounted for.

And with good reason. Control was standing perfectly still  in  the  spot

where he'd been when the fight began, his hands held open and empty  in  front

of him, his blaster still in its holster. Yet on his  face  was  not  fear  or

anger, but cool contemplation  of  the  scene.  "My  congratulations  to  you,

Admiral," he said, nodding at Thrawn and then at Tierce. "And to you, Major. I

was expecting stormtroopers in hidden wall niches.  Your  way  was  much  more

subtle and equally effective."

He turned his head to look at the woman. "Your appearance, on  the  other

hand, was completely unexpected. I gather you sneaked in behind us. I'd give a

great deal to know how you did that."

"The only thing the Mistryl have to offer the Cavrilhu Pirates is death,"

she countered coldly. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't start with you."

Control shrugged; but Disra could tell he wasn't quite as calm as he  was

trying to let on. "Because  you've  already  avenged  the  Mistryl  deaths  at

Lorardian," he said. "Zothip was the one who forced the issue there. There was

nothing any of the rest of us could do about it."

He turned his eyes back to Disra. "Just as he was also the one  demanding

revenge on  you  and  Admiral  Pellaeon  for  the  fiasco  at  Pesitiin,  Your

Excellency," he added. "I'd like to suggest that all such  unpleasantries  can

and should be put behind us."

Tierce snorted something under his breath. "Certainly the courageous one,

isn't he?"

"You miss the point, Major," Disra said, smiling at Control. Suddenly, it

was all making sense. "Control here isn't scrabbling around desperately trying

to save his skin. He had this whole confrontation mapped out  right  from  the

start."

The Mistryl frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that he decided he was tired of being second in line," Disra told

her, watching Control closely. The slight, knowing smile on the  other's  lips

was all the proof he needed that he had hit it precisely. "All of it was  pure

politics."

"It was more than just politics, Your Excellency," Control said.  "Zothip

had mouth and bluster; but he didn't have the brains to run an organization as

large as ours. For years now I've been the  one  who's  been  holding  it  all

together. It's high time I took over the perks as well as the work."

"How convenient that we've cleared the path for you,"  Thrawn  said.  "Is

there anything more you want from us?"

"For starters, I'd like to leave here alive," Control said,  giving  each

of the Imperials a smile that managed to be smug and ingratiating at the  same

time. "Other than that?" He hesitated. "Zothip was right about our arrangement

with Moff Disra," he said, turning his  attention  to  Thrawn.  "We  made  out

pretty good, but we were also taking too many of the risks. Besides that,  the

New Republic seems to be on to us now. I think it's time we bowed out."

"Then you forfeit your chance to share in the division of the  galaxy  at

the Empire's victory," Disra warned, wondering why he was  even  bothering  to

try to talk Control into this. Certainly he didn't really care if the Cavrilhu

Pirates walked or not.

He needn't have worried. "We'll take our chances," Control said. "You may

be a genius, Admiral, but frankly I don't think even you can pull it off."

"As you wish," Thrawn said. "You will, of course, still keep the Preybird

production line operating."

"We'll keep it running," Control promised. "In fact, I'll  give  you  our

interest in the whole operation as a welcome-back present."

He smirked, but in Disra's eyes the expression rang  just  a  little  bit

hollow. "And as a token of our past association with the Empire,  and  of  our

friendly parting of the ways."

"Of course," Thrawn said, giving him a knowing smile in return. "And just

in case you're wrong about the extent of my genius?"

The smirk twitched and vanished. "A lot of fringe groups  got  caught  in

the middle the last time you went up against the New  Republic,  Admiral,"  he

said. "I'd rather the Cavrilhu Pirates not wind up in that position."

"I think that can be avoided," Thrawn agreed. "Certainly as long  as  the

Preybirds continue to be delivered."

"You've got a deal," Control said, his eyes flicking to the Mistryl as he

cautiously lowered his arms. "If that's all, then, I have an  organization  to

restructure. Good luck to you, Admiral."

"And to  you,  Captain  Control,"  Thrawn  replied,  inclining  his  head

slightly. "I don't expect to see you or any of your pirates in Imperial  space

again."

Control swallowed visibly. "No, sir," he said as  he  backed  toward  the

door to the secret passageway. "You won't."

He slipped into the doorway and vanished. "I hope letting him go was  the

right thing to do," Disra muttered. Pellaeon was at  the  other  end  of  that

passageway, and they only had Control's word  that  he  wasn't  interested  in

revenge.

"Don't worry," Thrawn assured him. "As you already pointed out, he put  a

great deal of time and thought into maneuvering  Zothip  here  this  way.  No,

he'll head directly back to his ship with his tale of woe, and  that  will  be

that."

"What about her?" Tierce asked, nodding at the woman. He had lowered  his

blaster as ordered, but was still holding it ready at his side. "She did  come

in with them."

"I came in behind them," the woman  corrected.  "I  overheard  a  comment

about clones and pirate arrangements with the Empire and?"

"Clones?" Disra cut her off. "Who was talking about clones?"

She regarded him coolly. "A couple of New Republic agents named Han  Solo

and Lando Calrissian," she said. "You may have heard of them."

"I believe we have, yes," Thrawn said  with  an  easy  smile.  "Actually,

we're trying to make contact with them at the moment."

Her lip twitched. "I'll bet you are."

"But more interesting to me," Thrawn continued, "would be  to  hear  your

response to the offer I made to you a few minutes ago."

She frowned. "What offer?"

"Don't you remember?" Thrawn asked. "I pointed out that your recovery  to

my appearance had been a bit slow, but otherwise not bad. I then spoke of  the

Empire's wish to acquire allies."

Her forehead furrowed. "What are you talking about?" she  demanded.  "You

made that offer to Zothip, not me. You didn't even know I was there."

"On the contrary," Thrawn said quietly. "I knew full well you were there.

And if you'll think back to my offer, you may notice that  I  never  mentioned

either Zothip or his pirates."

She stared at him, her face struggling as she obviously tried to sort out

whether he was being truthful or feeding her a load of lies. Flim weaving  yet

another of his spells... and even with the audience prejudiced against him, it

appeared to be working.

But right now Disra didn't have time to enjoy the show. "I'm sure you and

the lady have a great deal to discuss, Admiral," he murmured,  taking  a  step

back toward the door. "If you'll excuse me, though, I  need  to  get  back  to

Admiral Pellaeon."

"Certainly, Your Excellency," Thrawn said, dismissing him with a wave  of

his hand. "Perhaps we'll move to another room to continue our discussion."  He

lifted an eyebrow at the woman. "Assuming, that is, you're interested in  what

my new Empire has to offer the Mistryl."

"We've never worked for the Empire before," the woman said cautiously  as

Disra stepped to the door and pulled it open.

"That was Palpatine's Empire," Thrawn reminded her. "The Empire I propose

to rebuild?"

The rest of the sales pitch was lost as Disra closed the door behind  him

and hurried down the corridors. The secret passageway would have been  faster;

but Pellaeon didn't know about that, and Disra would just as soon it  be  kept

secret.

Switching corridors, rounding the last corner, he headed  down  the  main

hallway toward the door guards. "Has Admiral  Pellaeon  asked  about  me?"  he

asked as the guards saluted and stepped aside.

"No, Your Excellency," one of them said as  the  double  doors  began  to

swing open.

"Actually, he's already left."

Disra came to an abrupt stop. "What do you mean, he's left?"  he  echoed,

peering in through the opening doors. The office was indeed empty. "Where  did

he go?"

"He didn't say, Your Excellency," the guard said.

Disra stepped into the office, frowning around  the  room  as  the  doors

closed behind him. This made no sense. Why would  Pellaeon  and  that  slinker

Dreyf just leave? Surely they hadn't simply decided to let him off the hook.

His eyes fell on his desk...

He was around the side of the desk in five quick  strides,  swearing  the

whole way, feeling a clammy sweat breaking out on his face. No. They  couldn't

have.

But they had. The hidden desk drawer had been forced open.

And the datacards were gone.

CHAPTER

23

Disra's groping hand found the comm switch. "Tierce,  get  in  here,"  he

managed, his voice sounding odd through the pounding of his heart in his ears.

"Now."

He switched the comm to the guards outside. "When did Pellaeon leave?" he

demanded.

"Five or six minutes ago, Your Excellency," the voice came back.

Which meant he would be out of the palace  by  now  and  headed  for  the

spaceport, with the Capital Security forces who  could  have  intercepted  him

dispersed uselessly around the city in their hunt  for  Solo  and  Calrissian.

Disra ground his teeth together, a vision of the grand scheme he'd  worked  so

hard to create collapsing in front  of  his  eyes.  Everything  was  on  those

datacards?everything.

Encrypted, of course; but if Pellaeon was able to decrypt them...

And then another, even more awful thought  jabbed  up  under  his  heart.

Colonel Vermel, hidden away  in  a  quiet  little  detention  cell  on  Rimcee

Station...

It took nearly a minute to get the  long-range  comm  keyed  through  the

various relays to the Rimcee system. And when he did...

Across the room, the secret door  opened  and  Tierce  stepped  into  the

office. "We have them," he announced with grim satisfaction. "Their ship's  in

Docking Bay 155?"

"Pellaeon's got the datacards," Disra cut him off viciously.

"What?" Tierce demanded, picking up his pace.

"The  datacards,  fool,"  Disra  snarled.  "The  Vengeance  scheme,   our

arrangement   with   Zothip's   pirates,   names   and    details    of    the

industrial/financial web I've been using?everything."

Tierce hissed between his teeth, throwing a look  at  the  empty  drawer.

"Incredible," he said, almost as if talking to  himself.  "He  actually  broke

into your private records. I would never have thought  him  capable  of  doing

that. It must have been Dreyf's idea."

"We can get the details at the trial," Disra snapped. "Forget whose  idea

it was.

What are we going to do?"

"What do we have to do?" Tierce said with a  shrug.  "They're  encrypted,

aren't they? By the time Pellaeon decrypts them?"

"He already has," Disra cut him off. "At  least  well  enough.  He  knows

Vermel's at Rimcee Station."

Tierce's face hardened. "How do you know?"

"Because I just tried to get through to them," Disra gritted. "Pellaeon's

had all transmissions to the entire system blocked off."

Tierce threw a dark look at the  blank  comm  display.  "Fast  work,"  he

murmured. "Very good, Admiral."

"Never mind that," Disra snapped, almost shaking with fear and  rage  and

frustration. Didn't Tierce understand the whole plan was about to collapse  on

top of them? "We've got to stop him. We've  got  to  pull  Vermel  out  before

Pellaeon gets there?"

"No," Tierce said, his voice suddenly decisive. "What we have  to  do  is

catch Solo and Calrissian before they get to their ship  and  have  our  Grand

Admiral put on a show for them."

"Are you insane?" Disra snarled. "To Kessel with  Solo?this  is  my  neck

we're talking about!"

"Calm down, Disra," Tierce said, his voice like a slap of cold  water  in

the Moff's face. "Whatever Pellaeon's got doesn't matter. You  understand?  It

doesn't matter.

We have the ultimate clear-card: Grand Admiral Thrawn. All he has  to  do

is take command and  declare  everything  we've  done  to  have  been  at  his

direction. Now snap out of it."

Disra took a shuddering breath, glaring at  Tierce  in  silent,  impotent

fury.

Silent fury that the Guardsman was dismissing so casually all  the  years

Disra had put into this project. Impotent fury because he was  right.  "Fine,"

he choked out. "So we forget Pellaeon. What do we do instead?"

"You weren't listening," Tierce said,  his  eyes  still  narrowed  as  he

watched Disra's face. "We've got their landing bay number?that  Mistryl  woman

D'ulin rode in with them as a stowaway. The admiral and I have  to  get  there

before they get back. You understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Disra  growled,  his  brain  only  now  starting  to

unfreeze from the shock and panic. "I'm not a child, you know."

"Glad to hear it," Tierce said coldly. "Because while  we're  out  there,

you're going to go talk to D'ulin. Find out what she wants and what it'll take

to bring the Mistryl onto our side."

Disra felt his mouth drop open a centimeter. The reports he'd heard about

the Mistryl? "You want to try to make allies of them? Have you lost your mind?

They hate the Empire!"

"We need a new fringe group to  replace  the  Cavrilhu  Pirates,"  Tierce

said, his voice one of exaggerated patience. "And we do not have time to argue

about it.

Thrawn and D'ulin are in the library across from your quarters.  Go  take

over so that he and I can get to the spaceport. Understand? Now move."

The snapped command made Disra jump. "Don't ever  talk  to  me  that  way

again, Major," he warned, his voice quietly deadly. "Ever."

"Then don't ever  fall  apart  on  me  again,  Your  Excellency,"  Tierce

countered. If he was either impressed or intimidated by  Disra's  warning,  he

didn't show it. "Now get moving."

* * *

The legion of Imperial  troops  Han  had  feared  would  be  ringing  the

spaceport wasn't there. Neither were the hard-eyed guards he'd expected at the

entrypoint, the monitor droids along the access street, or  the  stormtroopers

at the door to their docking bay. In fact, from all appearances it looked like

they'd gotten completely away with it.

And that all by itself was enough to worry him. A lot.

Lando felt it, too. "I don't  like  this,  Han,"  he  muttered,  glancing

around the street behind them as Han unlocked the bay door. "This is  way  too

easy."

"Yeah, I know," Han agreed, taking  one  last  look  around  as  he  took

Lobot's arm and guided him through the doorway. Lando's on-the-fly changes  to

his implant's programming over the past hour may have thrown the Imperials off

the scent, but they'd also left Lobot rather dazed. If it came to a  fight  at

the Lady Luck's ramp, he was going to be no help at all.

The dark passageway through the docking bay's service and supply area was

also deserted. "Soon as we're aboard you get the engines fired up,"  Han  told

Lando as they stepped out onto the permacrete beneath the open sky.  The  Lady

Luck was still there, looking just the way they'd left her. "I'll  handle  the

weapons.

Maybe Moegid can get into the spaceport computer and get us a quick  exit

slot?"

"That won't be necessary," a quiet voice came from behind them.

Han spun around, yanking out his appropriated blaster. Behind them on the

permacrete had appeared the flickering full-sized holo of a man.  A  man  with

blue skin, wearing a white Imperial uniform...

Lando made a strange sound in the back of  his  throat.  "It's  him,"  he

murmured.

Han nodded, feeling numb. It was indeed.

Grand Admiral Thrawn.

"Please lay your weapons on the ground," Thrawn directed. "I'd prefer  to

speak with you face-to-face, but understandably have no desire to be shot."

"Understandably," Han agreed, keeping a firm grip  on  his  blaster,  his

eyes darting around the landing bay. There must be some actual troops in  here

somewhere...

The holo smiled. "Come now, Captain Solo," he  said  soothingly.  "Surely

you don't think you'll be able to simply blast your way out of Bastion as  you

have from so many other systems during your checkered career. Don't  you  wish

to see your wife and children again?"

Han adjusted his grip on his blaster,  feeling  sweat  gathering  on  his

forehead. "Yeah, that's kind of the point, isn't it?" he said.

The holo shook his head. "You misunderstand, Captain," Thrawn said.  "You

have nothing to fear from me. All I want is a few words with you, and then you

and your companions will be free to go your way." He nodded toward Lando. "Ask

Captain Calrissian. I allowed him to leave my Star Destroyer."

"This isn't exactly the same," Lando said tightly. "This is  your  hidden

capital.

You aren't going to want anyone knowing where it is."

"Come now, Captain," Thrawn said, rather scornfully. "Do you really think

I would expect knowledge of Bastion's current location to die  with  you?  The

seat of Imperial authority has been moved before, many times. It can certainly

be moved again. Still, you apparently need more persuasion."

A movement at the corner of his eye caught Han's attention. He looked up?

To see a row of stormtroopers lined up along the rim of the landing bay's

storage area roof, blaster rifles trained on them.

He sighed. They should have made a dash for the Lady Luck when  the  holo

first appeared instead of letting Thrawn stall them this way.  Too  late  now.

"How'd you find us?" he asked, setting the blaster's  safety  and  laying  the

weapon on the ground in front of him.

"It wasn't difficult," the holo said as Lando reluctantly  followed  suit

with his slugthrower. "I knew none of you had the slicing expertise needed  to

invade the Special Files. I suspected you were using a Verpine for  that,  and

so instructed my men to run a scan on those comm frequencies."

"Looking for an echo," Han said, nodding. "I would have sworn we cut that

off before you could get a fix."

"You misunderstand, Captain. I wasn't looking for an echo." Abruptly, the

holo vanished?

And from around a stack of storage crates to their right  Thrawn  himself

appeared, his white uniform dazzlingly bright in the afternoon sunlight.

But no more dazzling than the gleaming armor  of  the  six  stormtroopers

flanking him in guard position. On second thought, Han decided, a mad dash for

the Lady Luck wouldn't have been such a clever plan after all.

"I was merely seeking confirmation  that  your  slicer  was  a  Verpine,"

Thrawn continued as he walked up to them. "Once you supplied that confirmation

by blanketing those biocomm frequencies, all  I  had  to  do  was  search  the

spaceport records for a ship that had supposedly landed here eight, twelve, or

seventeen days before the drone probe  you  followed  in  from  the  Parshoone

Ubiqtorate contact station."

"Wait a minute, you've lost me," Han said, frowning. "Eight,  twelve,  or

seventeen days?"

Thrawn smiled. "Those are important numbers to the  Verpines,"  he  said.

"Not consciously, perhaps, but nevertheless anchored deeply  within  them.  It

was obvious that your Verpine was the master slicer of your group;  therefore,

he would have been the one to make any alterations in the spaceport records to

hide your ship's location. Need I go on?"

"No," Han said, a cold chill running through him. Back at his and  Leia's

Orowood Tower retreat Lando had claimed to have seen Thrawn; had  claimed  it,

had argued it, had maintained it despite all the evidence and arguments to the

contrary.

Han had wondered then how his friend could have been so easily spooked.

Now, finally, he understood.

"Good," Thrawn said, peering at him with a  depth  of  understanding  Han

didn't care for at all. "Then let us get down  to  business."  He  raised  his

voice slightly. "Major?"

From behind another stack of boxes to the left  a  youngish  man  wearing

major's insignia appeared, his eyes wary on the prisoners. In his  right  hand

he held a blaster; in his left, a datacard.

"As you may recall our last  conversation,  Captain  Calrissian,"  Thrawn

went on as the major walked toward them, "you suggested that if  I  wanted  to

save the New Republic from its current crisis  I  should  simply  give  you  a

complete copy of the Caamas Document."

"Yes, I remember," Lando said as the major came to  a  stop  a  meter  in

front of him. "You told me that would take too much time."

"Less time than I thought, as it turned out," Thrawn  agreed.  "There  it

is."

The major held out the datacard. "What do you mean, there it  is?"  Lando

asked, looking at the datacard like he expected it to explode in his face.

"The Caamas Document," Thrawn said simply. "It's yours. Take it."

Slowly, hesitantly, Lando took the card. "What's the catch?" he asked  as

the major took a step back.

"There's no catch," Thrawn assured him. "As I told you before,  I  merely

wish to help."

"Sure you do," Han put in, his words sounding harsh in his ears after the

Grand Admiral's more urbane tones. "Like you helped wreck the  Combined  Clans

Building on Bothawui?"

The glowing red eyes focused on him. "Explain."

"There was an Imperial team behind that riot," Han said  stiffly.  Beside

him, Lando was making shushing noises, and  he  had  to  admit  that  accusing

Thrawn to his face like this was probably not the most politic thing he  could

have done.

But it had been his neck on the line there, his and Leia's,  and  he  was

not going to just stand here and let Thrawn get away with making  conciliatory

noises. Not after all the death and destruction  that  riot  had  caused.  "We

found the redirection crystal they used with their Xerrol Nightstinger  sniper

blaster."

He had hoped for a flicker of guilt, or at least a twinge of recognition.

But  instead  Thrawn  merely  gave  him  a  brittle  smile.  "Yes,  a   Xerrol

Nightstinger," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Apparently still  a

favored tool of assassins and saboteurs. But in this case, you're looking  the

wrong direction.

The Empire's last  five  Xerrols  were  stolen  six  months  ago  from  a

Ubiqtorate cache on Marquarra."

His eyes glittered. "If you want to find them, I suggest you  search  the

private estate of High Councilor Borsk Fey'lya."

Han exchanged startled glances with Lando. "Fey'lya?"

"Yes," Thrawn said. "It was his private army who stole them."

"No," Han said, the word coming automatically. "That's ridiculous."

And yet...

Fey'lya had known he and Leia were going to the Combined  Clans  Building

to check out the true state of Bothan finances, a  job  they'd  somehow  never

gotten around to finishing after the riot. And it was just the sort  of  back-

blading stunt the Bothans were famous for.

Thrawn shrugged. "I'm not going to try to  convince  you.  The  truth  is

there for you to find if you care to. In the meantime?" He nodded  toward  the

datacard in Lando's hand. "Good day, gentlemen. Have a good voyage."

Without waiting for an answer he turned and headed for the exit, half  of

his stormtrooper guard falling into formation around him. The remaining  three

stormtroopers and the major waited until he was out of  sight  before  turning

and  following.  As  they  too  vanished  through  the  doorway  the  row   of

stormtroopers above them turned and headed away across the roof.

And a moment later Han, Lando, and Lobot were alone.

Han turned to Lando, found the other staring at  him  from  under  hooded

eyelids. "Well, Lando," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. It wasn't  one

of his better efforts. "I guess I owe you an apology."

"Never mind the  apologies,"  Lando  said,  stooping  to  retrieve  their

weapons as he ran a quick glance around the empty rooftop. "Let's just get out

of here, okay?"

"Yeah," Han said, taking Lobot's arm and  turning  him  toward  the  Lady

Luck's ramp.

"Let's."

* * *

"You should have seen their faces," Flim said, swirling his drink  around

in his glass, his moody voice in odd  contrast  with  what  should  have  been

gloating words.

"They were so petrified, and trying so hard not to show it. It was really

rather funny."

"I'm sure you could hardly keep from breaking out laughing,"  Disra  said

sourly.

"The question is, did they buy it?"

"They bought it," Tierce assured him,  sliding  a  datacard  out  of  his

datapad and picking up the next one from his stack. Alone among the  three  of

them, he seemed to have no doubts about Flim's performance. "Our Grand Admiral

was as smooth as polished transparisteel. He  didn't  even  flinch  when  Solo

threw the Bothawui commando team in his face."

"The Bothawui team?" Disra demanded sharply. "Our Bothawui team? Navett's

group?"

"Relax?he was talking about them in conjunction with the  Combined  Clans

Building riot," Tierce said. "There was no indication they know Navett's  back

there now."

"I hope not," Disra growled. On the other hand,  that  whole  scheme  was

listed on the datacards that Pellaeon had  stolen  from  him.  Still,  it  was

unlikely Pellaeon would run straight to Coruscant to warn  them,  even  if  he

stopped sifting through the financial data long enough to notice it  was  even

there. "How did they find out we staged the riot?"

Tierce shrugged.  "Who  knows?  It  doesn't  matter,  though?the  Admiral

deflected them nicely." He looked over at Flim. "What was  all  that  about  a

weapons cache being stolen from Marquarra?  I  don't  remember  hearing  about

that."

Flim sipped at his drink. "You don't remember," he said, "because I  made

the whole thing up. I figured it would?"

"You made it up?" Disra cut him off. "What kind of fool stunt was that?"

"One that got Solo off my back," Flim said stiffly. "Why? You disapprove?

"

"Yes, I disapprove," Disra bit out. "It's out of character. Thrawn didn't

go around making things up?if he didn't know something, he said so."

"Calm down, Your Excellency," Tierce said. But he didn't  look  all  that

happy, either, as he gazed at Flim. "He  had  to  say  something?we  can't  be

offering Coruscant the Caamas Document with one hand and helping foment  riots

with the other. At least he's bought us the time it'll take them to  check  up

on it."

Disra snorted. "However little that is."

"However little it is will be enough," Tierce said firmly. "In seven days

the New Republic's civil war is set to begin. At that point, no one's going to

care about a few riots and a handful of Xerrol Nightstingers."

He nodded back toward the secret door. "And speaking  of  buying  things,

how did your talk go with our guest? Are we going to  be  able  to  buy  their

services?"

"I don't know," Disra said, his mouth tightening briefly. "Mistryl  don't

work for Imperials?she must have told me that  fifteen  times.  On  the  other

hand, she did agree to call one of their leaders to come talk to us. And there

is something they very much want, but I wasn't quite able to get her  to  tell

me what that is."

"What they want is revenge," Flim said soberly. "Like everyone else these

days."

"Revenge against whom?" Disra asked.

Flim shrugged. "The story around the  fringe  is  that  their  world  was

devastated in a war with person or persons unknown some number of decades ago.

The money the Mistryl earn hiring out their services still supposedly goes  to

support the survivors."

"What's the name of the world?" Disra asked.

"I don't know," Flim said. "They keep  it  very  quiet.  Probably  afraid

whoever did it will come back and finish the job."

"She said something about revenge for Lorardian,"  Tierce  mused.  "Could

that be the system?"

"I have no idea." Flim shrugged. "I don't even know who or what Lorardian

is."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Disra said,  frowning.  "You  sounded

like you knew all about it back there."

"I also sounded like I knew she was hiding  behind  the  door  the  whole

time," Flim countered patiently. "The whole trick behind being a good con  man

is convincing the target you know more than you really do."

Disra grimaced. Con men. "Of course. I forgot."

"Don't go all high and nobly indignant on me, Disra,"  Flim  warned,  his

face darkening. "Your Cavrilhu Pirate raids on New Republic shipping  were  as

much a con as this is. So is your precious little Vengeance movement, for that

matter," he added, shifting his glare to Tierce.  "A  few  Imperial  agitators

pretending to be a huge group of civilian malcontents.  Not  to  mention  this

whole Thrawn charade. You don't like cons? Well, too bad. You're  up  to  your

necks in them, both of you. Not that you've got any choice. Not with the shape

the Empire's in."

He dropped his feet back onto the floor with a muffled thud and stood up.

"And I'll tell you something else," he added. "If and when you ever get to the

point where you've got all the military strength you want, you're still  going

to need me."

He slapped at his chest. "I'm the only one of this group  who  knows  the

fringe.

Who the pirates and mercs are, where to find  a  good  bounty  hunter  on

short notice?you want to hire more privateers, you'll have to come to me.  I'm

the one who could finger D'ulin as a Mistryl just by the way she fought."

"We're not arguing," Disra said, a little taken aback by the fire of  the

con man's tirade. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that if and when this Hand of Thrawn of yours shows  up,  you

might not need my Thrawn masquerade anymore,"  Flim  shot  back.  "But  you'll

still need me."

For a long moment the room was silent. Flim glared back and forth between

the two of them, breathing a little heavily.

Tierce broke the silence first. "You finished?" he asked mildly.

Flim studied his face, and some of the  stiffness  seemed  to  leave  his

back. "Yes," he muttered. "I just... this is going to stir  the  pot,  Tierce,

from Coruscant to the Outer Rim. Unless the Hand of Thrawn is living  under  a

rock, there's no way he's going to miss this."

"I told you before that we could protect you from him," Tierce said. "And

we will. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah." Flim took a long drink from his glass. "Yeah. Sure."

* * *

Lando pulled back the hyperdrive lever, and in front of them the stars of

Bastion's sky stretched into starlines. "Well," he said. He'd meant  the  word

to come out sounding casual, but all it sounded was hoarse. "I guess he really

meant it. About letting us go."

Beside him, Han didn't answer. For that matter, he probably  hadn't  said

ten words since Thrawn had  walked  out  of  the  docking  bay.  Lando  looked

sideways at his friend, wondering if it was time  he  started  worrying  about

him.

Han must have felt the other's gaze. "It was really him, wasn't  it?"  he

said quietly, his own gaze still on the swirling patterns of hyperspace.

Lando nodded, his throat feeling tight.  "Perfectly  calm,  perfectly  in

control, three steps ahead of us the whole way," he said.  "No  one  else  but

Thrawn."

"I wouldn't have believed it." Han looked at Lando, his mouth  twitching.

"I guess I didn't believe it," he amended. "Whatever I said to you back at the

Orowood Tower?"

"Forget it," Lando said, waving the apology away. "I was right there that

first time, and I didn't even believe it. At least, I didn't want to."

Han shook his head. "We're in trouble, Lando," he said. "From now on,  we

can't trust anything we see. Anything we see, anything we  hear,  anything  we

think we ought to do. Not with Thrawn back on the scene."

"I don't know," Lando said doubtfully. "Thrawn or no Thrawn,  the  Empire

is still down to eight sectors. Maybe this  is  really  all  he's  going  for,

hoping to confuse Coruscant so badly it just freezes up."

"Who knows?" Han growled, some heat starting to seep into his  voice.  At

least he didn't  sound  dazed  and  demoralized  anymore.  About  time,  Lando

thought. "That's what drives you so crazy about him. You try to do  something,

and odds are it's exactly what he wanted you to do. You stand still and  don't

do anything, and he runs a smartrope around you."

"So what do you suppose he expects us to  do  with  this?"  Lando  asked,

holding up the datacard.

"I don't know what he expects," Han said, reaching over  and  taking  it.

"But I'll tell you what we're going to do. First, we're going to read  it  and

see if it gives those names everyone's so hot to get hold  of.  Second,  we're

going to call Leia as soon as we're in range of the HoloNet and let  her  know

we've got it. And third?"

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "We're going to turn Moegid loose on

the thing and have him check it sixteen ways from center. See if he  can  find

whatever surprises Thrawn has tucked away."

Lando eyed the datacard warily. "You think there are surprises?"

"It's Thrawn," Han said simply.

Lando nodded. "Right."

Getting out of his seat, Han gave the instruments one final check.  "Come

on?I don't trust this thing anywhere  near  the  ship's  computer,"  he  said,

heading for the cockpit door. "Let's get a datapad and find out what it says."

CHAPTER

24

The first navigational stop the Wild Karrde had made after leaving Dayark

had showed nothing ahead. Nothing but the twisting glow of the Kathol Rift and

the fiery frozen wisps of ionized gas streamers  and  miniature  nebulae  that

looked as if they'd been torn from it by violence. So had the second stop, and

the third, until Shada had begun to wonder if  the  legendary  lost  world  of

Exocron was truly nothing but a myth.

On the fifth stop, they found it.

"It looks quite pleasant," Threepio commented  somewhat  doubtfully  from

Shada's side as they gazed out the Wild Karrde's bridge viewport at the  small

planet rapidly approaching. "I do hope they will be friendly."

"I wouldn't count on it," Shada warned him,  feeling  an  unfamiliar  and

unpleasant dryness in her mouth. Down there somewhere, if Jade and  Calrissian

were right, Jorj Car'das would be waiting for them.

At the helm, Odonnl half turned in  his  seat.  "Shouldn't  we  have  the

turbolasers ready?" he asked Karrde. "Just in case they're not happy at having

their privacy infringed on?"

Shada looked at Karrde. He was  hiding  his  nervousness  well,  but  she

herself had no trouble seeing it. "We're here to talk, not fight," he reminded

Odonnl, his voice steady. "I don't want anyone down there  getting  the  wrong

impression."

"Yes, but after Dayark?"

"We're here to talk," Karrde repeated,  his  tone  leaving  no  room  for

argument. "H'sishi, are we picking up any  sensor  probes?  Or  transmissions,

Chin?"

[No probes yet, Chieftain,] the Togorian said. Her fur, Shada noted,  had

fluffed out just noticeably. Apparently, she'd picked  up  on  Karrde's  mood,

too.

"Nothing of transmissions either, Cap't," Chin added. "Perhaps  they  not

see us come in."

"Oh, they see us, all right," Karrde said, a hint  of  grimness  creeping

into his tone. "The only question?"

He broke off at a beep from the comm. "Incoming starship, this is Admiral

Trey David, second-in-command to Supreme Admiral Horzao Darr  of  the  Exocron

Combined Air-Space Fleet," a courteous but firm voice said.  "Please  identify

yourselves."

Chin reached for his board? "No, I'll do it," Karrde  told  him,  visibly

bracing himself as he touched his comm switch. "This is  Talon  Karrde  aboard

the freighter Wild Karrde, Admiral David. Our intentions are totally peaceful.

We'd like permission to land."

There was a long pause. A very long pause,  in  fact.  Shada  rubbed  her

knuckles gently, visualizing  a  heated  argument  going  on  in  the  Exocron

Combined Fleet office...

"Wild Karrde, this is Admiral David," the  voice  came  back.  "I'm  told

you're here to see Jorj Car'das. Can you confirm that?"

Shada watched Karrde closely. But aside from a brief twitch at the corner

of his mouth there was no reaction. "Yes, I can," he said, his voice a  little

hollow but under control. "There's a vital matter I urgently need  to  discuss

with him."

"I see." There was another pause, shorter this  time.  "Is  he  expecting

you?"

Another twitch of the lip. "I don't know if expecting is the proper word.

I do believe he knows I'm coming."

"Do you," David said, his voice suddenly sounding  a  little  odd.  "Very

well, Wild Karrde, you're cleared for Circle 15 at the Rintatta City  military

landing field.

Coordinates are being sent to you now."

"Thank you," Karrde said.

"Got it," Odonnl  muttered,  studying  his  nav  display.  "Looks  pretty

straightforward."

"We have an escort on the way," David continued. "I trust I don't have to

tell you to cooperate with them."

"I understand completely," Karrde said. "Will I be seeing you there?"

"I doubt it," David said; and this time there was definitely  a  darkness

in his voice. "But perhaps we'll all be lucky. You never know. David out."

For a moment the bridge was quiet. Shada looked around at the others,  at

their tight faces and tense shoulders and grim  expressions.  If  they  hadn't

known before what they were getting into, she decided, they knew now.

And yet, she saw no indication that any of them  were  even  thinking  of

trying to back out. A truly loyal, close-knit crew,  completely  dedicated  to

their chief.

Much as Shada herself had once  been  dedicated  to  the  ideals  of  the

Mistryl. Even when the Mistryl themselves had all but forgotten those ideals.

Even in the face of the looming danger ahead, the  memory  of  that  loss

still hurt.

"Instructions, Captain?" Odonnl asked quietly.

Karrde didn't hesitate. "Take us down," he said.

* * *

Rintatta City was a middling-sized cluster  of  military-style  buildings

interspersed with about fifty landing pads of varying sizes, many  with  ships

already settled down onto them. The military areas were in turn surrounded  by

a wide ring of civilian-style homes and businesses  and  community  buildings.

The whole thing was nestled up against the base of  a  short  but  rough-sided

ridge of mountains, the city giving way to a grassy plain on its other sides.

There was no shakedown like there had been at Pembric 2.  Nor  was  there

any sort of customs or entrance inquiry at all as the Wild Karrde headed in to

the surface. The two aging system patrol ships that  Admiral  David  had  sent

escorted the freighter to its assigned landing circle, watched as it set down,

then headed off again into the sky without comment. Around  the  other  ships,

hundreds of men and women and dozens of small  vehicles  were  hurrying  about

various tasks of their own, completely ignoring the offworld ship that had set

down in their midst. From all appearances, Karrde thought as he and the others

started down the ramp, all of Exocron might be trying to pretend the  visitors

didn't exist.

With one notable exception.

"Good day, Captain Karrde," Entoo Nee beamed from the foot  of  the  Wild

Karrde's landing ramp. "Welcome to Exocron. I see that even  without  my  help

you were able to find us. Hello, Shada; hello, Threepio."

"Hello, Master Entoo Nee," Threepio replied, sounding distinctly relieved

to see a familiar face. "I confess I had not expected to find you here."

"There was some question about you, as well," Entoo Nee said  cheerfully.

"When I last saw you on Dayark, you seemed to be having  pirate  trouble."  He

took a step closer to the ramp  and  peered  up  into  the  ship.  "Will  your

charming Togorian be joining us?"

"No, H'sishi will be staying with the ship," Karrde told him, eyeing  the

little man with some bemusement. H'sishi was an increasingly valued member  of

his  crew,  but  charming  was  not  a  descriptive  term  that   would   have

automatically sprung to mind.

"Too bad," Entoo Nee said, looking at Shada and Threepio again. "Is  this

it, then? You don't want to bring any others along?"

Karrde felt his muscles tense up again, despite all his efforts to  relax

them.

Certainly he wanted to bring more people along. The Wild Karrde's  entire

crew, for starters, plus the crews of the Starry Ice and the Etherway, General

Bel Iblis's complete New Republic task force, Rogue Squadron, and  about  four

clans' worth of Noghri warriors.

But even if he had had such resources, it  would  be  a  futile  gesture.

Car'das was waiting for him, and bringing more people would only mean  putting

more people at risk. That wasn't why he was here. "Yes," he  told  Entoo  Nee.

"This is it. Do I assume you're here to take us to Jorj Car'das?"

"If you wish to see him," the little man said,  his  eyes  thoughtful  on

Karrde's face. Once again, as on Dayark, glimpses of the true Entoo  Nee  were

peeking through the carefully crafted facade of harmlessness. "Well. Shall  we

go?"

He led the way to an open-topped landspeeder at the edge of  the  landing

circle?a landspeeder, Karrde noted, that despite Entoo Nee's apparent surprise

at the small size of the  party  was  only  a  four-seater.  Weaving  his  way

expertly in and out of the rest of the traffic,  the  little  man  headed  off

toward the mountains.

"What's going on here?" Shada asked, gesturing around them as  Entoo  Nee

dodged around a particularly slow-moving fuel truck.

"They're preparing for some sort of maneuvers, I expect," the other said.

"Military people are always maneuvering one direction or another."

"How far is it  to  where  we're  meeting  Car'das?"  Karrde  asked,  not

particularly interested in what the Exocron Combined Air-Space  Fleet  had  on

its agenda for the day.

"Not far," Entoo Nee assured him. "Do you see that  light  blue  building

straight ahead, the one just a bit up the slope of the mountain? That's  where

he is."

Karrde shaded his eyes from the sunlight. From this distance,  at  least,

it was not a very impressive place. Not a fortress; not even a mansion.

In fact, as Entoo Nee cleared the military area and  started  across  the

more sparsely trafficked civilian section of the city, the light blue building

ahead began to look more and more like a simple, unassuming house.

Shada was apparently thinking  along  the  same  lines.  "Is  that  where

Car'das lives, or just where we're meeting him?" she asked.

Entoo Nee threw her a quick smile. "It's always questions with you, isn't

it?

Such a good, thoughtful mind."

"Asking questions is part of my job," Shada countered. "And  you  haven't

answered me."

"Answering questions isn't part of my job," Entoo Nee  said.  "Come  now,

there's no need for impatience?it's only a  little  farther.  Just  relax  and

enjoy the trip."

The blue house continued to look smaller and less impressive  the  closer

they got.

Smaller, less impressive, older, and considerably shabbier. "As  you  can

see, it was built right up against the cliff face,"  Entoo  Nee  commented  as

they drove past the last cluster of other houses and started across  a  grassy

field with a rapid creek running through the middle  of  it.  "I  believe  the

original owner thought that would provide extra stability  during  the  winter

winds."

"What happened to the left side?" Shada asked, pointing. "Did a wing  get

torn down?"

"No, it was never built," Entoo Nee told her. "Car'das once began to  add

on to the house, but?well, you'll see."

An unpleasant tingle ran down Karrde's back. "What  do  you  mean,  we'll

see? What stopped him?"

Entoo Nee didn't answer. Karrde glanced over at Shada, found her  looking

at him with an odd expression on her face.

A minute later they were there. Entoo Nee brought the  landspeeder  to  a

smooth halt in front of a once-white door whose paint had  chipped  and  faded

with age and neglect. "You lead the way," Shada said  to  Entoo  Nee,  sliding

herself deftly between Karrde and the house. "I'll be behind you; Karrde  will

be behind me."

"Oh, no, that won't do at all," Entoo Nee said.  He  shook  his  head,  a

quick, nervous-looking movement. "Only Captain Karrde and I will be able to go

in."

Shada's eyes narrowed. "Let me put it another way?"

"No, that's all right, Shada," Karrde said, moving around her and  taking

a step toward the door. Away from  the  center  of  the  group,  with  nothing

between him and the blank and empty windows, he felt  painfully  exposed.  "If

Car'das only wants to see me, then that's the way it has to be."

"Forget it," Shada said flatly, catching hold of Karrde's arm and hauling

him bodily to a stop. "Entoo Nee, either I go in with him or he doesn't go  in

at all."

"Shada, this isn't helping," Karrde growled, glaring at her. Did she want

all of them to be summarily shot down before he even had a chance to plead the

New Republic's case? "If he wanted me dead, he could have done it at any of  a

hundred points along the way. He could certainly do it right here."

"I know that," Shada shot back. "And it doesn't matter. I came  along  as

your bodyguard. And that's what I'm going to do."

Karrde stared at her, a sudden strange  sensation  running  through  him.

Back at that Orowood Tower meeting with Solo,  Organa  Solo,  and  Calrissian,

Shada had merely agreed to come along on this trip to help  out.  When  during

the two and a half weeks since then had  that  grudging  agreement  transmuted

into the far  deeper  commitment  of  bodyguard?  "Shada,  I  appreciate  your

concern," he said, quietly but firmly, reaching up to where she still  gripped

his arm and putting his hand gently on top of hers. "But you need to  remember

the big picture. My life, and what happens to it,  isn't  the  most  important

thing at stake here."

"I'm your bodyguard," Shada said, just as quietly  and  just  as  firmly.

"It's the most important thing to me."

"Please," Entoo Nee spoke up. "Please. I think you misunderstand. Captain

Karrde and I must go in first, but you may certainly come in right behind  us.

It's simply that?well, you'll see."

Shada still didn't look happy, but she gave a reluctant nod. "All  right,

fine," she said. "Just remember that if anything happens, you personally  will

be directly in my line of fire. You two first, then me, then Threepio."

"Really, Mistress Shada, I'm sure it's not necessary for me  to  come  in

with you," the droid hastened to assure her,  taking  a  shuffling  step  back

toward  the  landspeeder.  "Perhaps  I  should  remain  here  and  guard   the

landspeeder?"

"Actually, he may be  useful,"  Entoo  Nee  said,  smiling  reassuringly.

"Come, Threepio, it'll be all right."

"Yes, Master Entoo Nee," Threepio said in a resigned tone. Moaning almost

inaudibly to himself, he shuffled to a spot half a meter behind Shada. "But  I

must say, I have a bad feeli?"

"Good," Entoo Nee  said  cheerfully.  The  solemn  moment  past,  he  was

radiating his usual harmlessness again. "Shall we go?"

The door was unlocked. Karrde followed the little man  in,  feeling  more

vulnerable than ever as they stepped out of the sunlight into a  dank,  gloomy

room.

A room that, to his surprise, had apparently not been used for some time.

The few pieces of furniture scattered about were old and dusty, with the  same

signs of long neglect that they'd seen in the exterior of  the  house  itself.

The three windows, which from the outside had seemed so dark and  threatening,

could now be seen from this side to  be  merely  incredibly  dirty,  with  the

slight frosting effect that came  from  years  of  wind-driven  dust  or  sand

slashing across them. In the shafts of dim sunlight that managed to  penetrate

the grime, long strands of cobweb could be seen stretching from  some  of  the

chairs to the ceiling.

"This way," Entoo Nee said quietly, his voice an intrusion in  the  eerie

atmosphere as he led them across the room to  a  closed  door.  "He  is  here,

Captain Karrde. Please prepare yourself."

Karrde took a deep breath. Behind him, he heard the faint scraping  sound

as Shada's blaster came free of its holster. "I'm ready," he said. "Let's  get

it over with."

"Indeed." Reaching past him, Entoo Nee touched the door control.  With  a

faint squeak, it slid open.

It was the smell that hit Karrde first.  An  odor  of  age,  and  distant

memories, and lost hopes. An odor of sickness and tiredness.

An odor of death.

The room itself was small, much smaller than Karrde would have  expected.

To both sides built-in shelves covered each of the side walls, on  which  were

stacked  a  strange  assortment  of   small   art   objects,   useless-looking

knickknacks, and medical vials and equipment. A large bed took up most of  the

rest of the space, the foot coming to  within  a  meter  of  the  doorway  and

leaving barely enough room left over for two people to stand.

And lying in the bed beneath a  stack  of  blankets,  humming  softly  to

himself as he stared at the ceiling, was an old man.

"Jorj?" Entoo Nee called softly as he stepped through  the  doorway.  The

humming stopped, but the man's gaze remained on the  ceiling.  "Jorj?  There's

someone here to see you."

Karrde stepped in beside him, squeezing into  the  remaining  space,  his

mind spinning. No. Surely this couldn't be Jorj  Car'das.  Not  the  vigorous,

hot-tempered, ambitious man who'd almost single-handedly created  one  of  the

greatest smuggling organizations ever known. "Jorj?" he called carefully.

The wrinkled face frowned, and the head lifted up. "Mertan?" a  quavering

voice asked. "Mertan? Is that you?"

Karrde let his breath out in a tired sigh. The voice, and the eyes.  Yes,

it was indeed him. "No, Jorj," he said gently. "Not Mertan. It's Karrde. Talon

Karrde.

You remember?"

The old man's eyes blinked a couple of times. "Karrde?" he  said  in  the

same uncertain voice. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Jorj, it's me," Karrde assured him. "Do you remember me?"

A tentative smile started on the old man's face, fading as if the muscles

were too old or too tired to hold on to it. "Yes," he said. "No. Who  are  you

again?"

"Talon  Karrde,"  Karrde  repeated,  the  bitter  taste  of  defeat   and

disappointment and utter fatigue in his mouth. All this way. They'd  come  all

this way to see Car'das and plead for his help. All of  Karrde's  fears  about

this meeting?his fears, his regrets, his guilt?all of it for nothing. The Jorj

Car'das he had lived in quiet terror of for so many years was long gone.

In his place was an empty shell.

Dimly, through the darkness swirling through his mind, he felt a hand  on

his shoulder. "Come on, Karrde," Shada said  quietly.  "There's  nothing  here

anymore."

"It was Karrde, right?" the old man  asked.  A  thin  arm  came  up  from

beneath the blankets, flailing a bit before the hand  was  able  to  tuck  the

pillows tighter behind his neck. "Tarron Karrde?"

"It's Talon Karrde, Jorj," Entoo Nee  corrected,  his  voice  that  of  a

patient parent to a very young child. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

Car'das frowned, his head settling back onto the pillow, his  eyes  again

drifting to whatever it was  he  saw  on  the  ceiling.  "Shem-mebal  ostorran

se'mmitas Mertan anial?" he muttered, his  voice  almost  inaudible.  "Karmida

David shumidas krree?"

"Old Tarmidian," Entoo Nee murmured. "The language of his childhood. He's

been slipping into that more and more lately."

"Threepio?" Shada prompted.

"He's asking if Mertan has been by here today," the droid translated. For

once, there was no mention of how many types of communication  he  was  fluent

in. "Or that nice Admiral David person."

"No, neither of them," Entoo Nee said to the figure in the bed, motioning

Karrde to back out of the room. "I'll be back later, Jorj.  Try  to  get  some

sleep, all right?"

He followed Karrde out of the room and  reached  for  the  door  control.

"Sleep?" The old man snorted weakly, giving a  cackling  laugh.  "Can't  sleep

now, Mertan.

Too much to do. Far too much to?"

The door slid shut, mercifully cutting off the rest. "You see,  now,  how

it is," Entoo Nee said quietly.

Karrde nodded, the taste of ashes in his mouth. All those  years...  "How

long has he been this way?"

"And why did you even bother bringing us here in the first place?"  Shada

demanded.

"What can I say?" Entoo Nee said. "He's old?very old?with  the  many  and

varied afflictions that so often come of long age." His bright eyes shifted to

Shada. "And as for bringing you here, you were the ones who wanted to come."

"We wanted to see Jorj Car'das," Shada bit out. "What's in there  is  not

what we had in mind."

"It's all right, Shada," Karrde said. All those years... "It's my  fault,

not Entoo Nee's. I should have come here years ago."

He blinked sudden tears from his eyes. "I suppose there's only  one  more

question to be asked. Entoo Nee, Car'das once had a huge datacard library.  Do

you have any idea where it might be?"

Entoo Nee shrugged. "Whatever he did with it, he did  it  long  before  I

came to be in his service."

Karrde nodded. So much for even their last hope of finding a copy of  the

Caamas Document here. Wasted fears, and now a wasted trip.  Suddenly,  he  was

feeling very old. "Thank you," he said, pulling out his comlink and keying  it

on. "Dankin?"

"Right here, Chief," Dankin's voice came promptly, an edge of tautness to

it. "How are things?"

"Running quite smoothly, thank you," Karrde said,  giving  the  all-clear

code response. "The mission is over. Get the ship ready; we'll be  leaving  as

soon as we get back."

"Yeah, well, that might be a bit tricky," Dankin said, his voice  turning

grim. "There's something about to happen here,  Chief,  something  big.  Every

ship on the field's getting tooled up for combat."

Karrde frowned. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Dankin said. "There are racks  of  missiles  being  taken

aboard, gunner-type flak-vac suits?the works. And they seem to be arming a lot

of civilian ships, too."

"It's Rei'Kas and his pirates," Entoo Nee murmured  quietly  at  Karrde's

side. "It would appear one of them followed you in."

Karrde grimaced, yet another piece  of  his  carefully  built  up  mental

picture crumbling to dust. He'd been so sure that Rei'Kas had been  hired  and

brought here by Car'das. "No one should have been able to follow us," he  told

Entoo Nee.

"We always watch our backtrail very closely."

Entoo Nee shrugged again. "I don't know how they did it. I only know that

they did. According to Admiral David, their entire  fleet  has  now  left  its

hidden base and is on its way to Exocron."

"You knew about this before we even landed?" Shada demanded. "Why  didn't

you say something?"

"What should I have said?" Entoo Nee countered. "The damage  had  already

been done. They had found Exocron." He gestured upward. "In fact, that was why

I wanted to bring you here myself from Dayark, Captain Karrde.  They  wouldn't

have been able to track my ship."

Karrde grimaced. As if his guilt burden hadn't  been  heavy  enough,  now

this. "How long before they reach the planet?"

"Excuse me," Threepio spoke up before Entoo Nee  could  answer.  "But  if

pirates are on their way, shouldn't we be planning our departure?"

"He's right," Entoo Nee agreed. "Still, there's no particular  hurry  for

you.

They won't be here for at least another eight hours. Possibly more."

"What about you?" Shada asked.

Entoo Nee's mouth puckered. "I'm sure we'll be all right.  I'm  told  the

Combined Air-Space Fleet is quite good."

"Maybe against  the  occasional  smuggler  or  rock-dodger,"  Shada  said

darkly. "But this is Rei'Kas we're talking about."

"It's our trouble, not yours," Entoo Nee said firmly.  "You'd  best  make

preparations to go."

The comlink, Karrde suddenly realized, was still on. "Dankin?" he called.

"You get all that?"

"We got it, Chief," Dankin confirmed. "You still want me to get the  ship

ready?"

Karrde looked past Entoo Nee at the room's darkened windows. Beyond those

windows were people his actions, however unintended, had put in deadly danger.

Which meant there really wasn't any decision here to be made.  "Yes,  get

it ready," he told Dankin. "But get it ready for full combat."

He looked back at Entoo Nee. "We're going to stay and fight."

CHAPTER

25

It was, Booster Terrik  thought,  about  as  chaotic  aboard  the  Errant

Venture as he'd ever seen it. And considering this was the Errant  Venture  he

was talking about, that was really saying something.

They were all over the place: New Republic techs and workers and  officer

types, thousands of them, crawling around every corner of his Star  Destroyer.

Fixing things,  adding  things,  taking  things  out,  upgrading  things,  and

occasionally changing things around just for the fun of it. His own people had

been overridden, nudged aside, superseded,  or  flat  out  run  over  as  this

oversized rancor of a restoration crew lumbered through his ship.

And moving around the center of it, like the  single  calm  spot  in  the

middle of a circlestorm, was General Bel Iblis.

"Five more warships arrived in the system last night," a  harried-looking

aide was saying, hurrying to keep up with Bel  Iblis  as  the  general  strode

briskly along the Starboard-16 weapons emplacement corridor. Booster, with his

longer legs, had less of a problem in that department. Still, in his  opinion,

Bel Iblis had a lot more energy than anyone had any business having this early

in the morning. "The Freedom's  Fury,  Spirit  of  Mindor,  Starline  Warrior,

Stellar Sentinel, and Welling's Revenge."

"Good," Bel Iblis said, stopping beside a turbolaser monitor panel. "What

about the Garfin and Beledeen II?"

"No word on them yet," the aide said, checking his  datapad.  "I've  also

heard rumors that the Webley's here, but so far they haven't checked in."

"They're here,"  Booster  spoke  up.  "Captain  Winger  is,  anyway?those

mechanical fingers of hers leave pretty distinctive marks on metal ale tubes."

The aide's eyes darkened. "All incoming ships are supposed  to  check  in

immediately?"

"It's all right," Bel Iblis calmed him. "Don't worry, they'll surface  in

plenty of time. Alex probably just wanted her crew to get some rest before the

orders started flying."

"They're not the only ones who could use  some  rest,"  Booster  muttered

under his breath.

Bel Iblis frowned slightly,  as  if  only  now  noticing  the  big  man's

presence. "Was there something you wanted, Terrik?" he asked.

"Just wondering when the work on my ship will be finished," Booster said.

"We're almost there," Bel Iblis said. "Lieutenant?"

"Looks like the major refitting will be completed inside of twelve hours,

" the younger man confirmed, studying his datapad. "There may be  a  few  odds

and ends left, but they can be finished on the way to Yaga Minor."

Bel Iblis looked at Booster. "Was there anything else?" he asked.

"Yeah, there was," Booster said. He stopped, looking significantly at the

aide.

Bel Iblis took the hint. "Lieutenant, go check on the  Number  7  tractor

beam emplacement," he said. "Make sure the balance adjustments are being  made

properly."

"Yes, sir," the aide said. Throwing a speculative  look  at  Booster,  he

headed at a quick walk down the corridor.

"Why don't we step in here out of the way," Bel Iblis suggested, crossing

to a door with the bright red markings of an emergency med station.

They went inside. "Up to now, you've been pretty quiet  about  what  your

plan is for this little raid," Booster said when the  door  was  sealed  again

behind them.

"I think it's about time I heard some details."

"There's not much to tell," Bel Iblis said. "We'll be taking  the  Errant

Venture in past their sentry line and, hopefully, through their  main  defense

perimeter.

Once we're inside, the rest of the task force will come in behind us from

hyperspace and attack the perimeter. If we're lucky, the Imperials will be  so

busy with them they won't give us a second look."

"That assumes their first look doesn't pin us to the  wall,  of  course,"

Booster pointed out darkly. "Assuming that, what then?"

"Yaga Minor has a peculiarity that as far  as  I  know  is  unique  among

Imperial installations," Bel  Iblis  said.  "There  are  a  pair  of  outrider

computer stations set up at the end of a corridor/walkway  tube  that  extends

about a hundred meters out from the main orbiting Ubiqtorate station."

Booster frowned. "Odd design."

"The idea was to give high-ranking civilian  researchers  access  to  the

computer records system without having to let them into  the  Ubiqtorate  base

proper," Bel Iblis told him. "Grand Moff Tarkin ran a lot of his more  private

stuff through Yaga Minor, and he didn't want  his  political  enemies  getting

even a glimpse of what he was up to."

"Okay, so there's  a  convenient  remote  connection  to  the  computer,"

Booster said.

"I don't suppose it happens to have an equally convenient access hatchway

where we can get to it."

"There are hatchways, but unfortunately they're not at  all  convenient,"

Bel Iblis said, his voice turning grim. "We'll probably have to blast  a  hole

in the side of the walkway tube and send in our slicers in vac suits."

Booster snorted. "Right?blow a hole in the side of the  station.  That'll

sure go unnoticed."

"It could," Bel Iblis said. "The main force will be  firing  barrages  of

proton torpedoes at the time. The Imperials may assume that was one  that  got

through."

"And if they don't?"

Bel Iblis shrugged. "Then you and I and the rest of the Errant  Venture's

crew start earning our pay the hard way. We'll have  to  hold  them  off  long

enough for the slicers to pull up a copy of the Caamas Document  and  transmit

it out to the attacking ships."

Booster snorted again. "No offense, General, but that has to be the worst

plan I've ever heard in my life.  What  happens  to  us  once  we've  got  the

document?"

Bel Iblis looked him straight in the eye. "What  happens  to  us  doesn't

matter," he said bluntly. "If they accept our surrender, fine. If not...  they

turn the Errant Venture into scrap around us."

"Hold it a second," Booster said, frowning.  Buried  in  among  all  that

breathtakingly lousy strategy he'd suddenly noticed a highly  important  word.

"What do you mean us? I thought you were going to be out there with  the  main

fleet."

Bel Iblis shook his head. "This ship is the key  to  the  operation,"  he

said quietly. "This is the ship that has to survive long enough to  first  get

the Caamas Document and  then  punch  it  out  through  whatever  jamming  the

Imperials have going. This is where I'm needed the most. So this is where I'll

be."

"Now, wait just one mradhe  mucking  minute,"  Booster  growled,  pulling

himself up to his full one-meter-nine height. "This is my ship. You told me  I

would still be her captain."

"You're still the captain," Bel Iblis agreed. "I'm simply the admiral."

Booster let out a long, hissing breath. He should have  known  Bel  Iblis

hadn't really given in on anything. He should have known it. "And if I  refuse

to give you command?"

Bel Iblis lifted his eyebrows slightly. Booster nodded, a sour  taste  in

his mouth. With the Errant Venture  crawling  with  Bel  Iblis's  people,  the

question wasn't even worth answering. "Right," he muttered. "I knew I'd regret

this."

"You can stay here if you want," Bel Iblis offered. "I'm  sure  Coruscant

would compensate you for?"

"Forget it," Booster bit out. "This is my ship, and you're not taking  it

into combat without me. Period."

Bel Iblis smiled  faintly.  "I  understand,"  he  said.  "Believe  me,  I

understand.

Was there anything else?"

"No, that ought to about do it for now," Booster said glumly. "You  might

want to see if you can come up with a better plan in the next three days."

"I'll try," Bel Iblis promised. Turning, he headed for the door?

"Wait a second," Booster said as a new thought struck him. "You say we're

going to blow a hole in  that  outrider  computer  station.  What  happens  if

someone's in there at the time?"

"I'm not expecting anyone to be there," Bel Iblis told him. "I doubt it's

used much anymore. Besides, I can't see any other way to do this."

"But what if there is someone?" Booster persisted. "You said yourself the

place was only used by civilians. You blow a hole in the wall and you're going

to kill them."

A shadow seemed to cross Bel Iblis's face. "Yes,"  he  said  quietly.  "I

know."

* * *

"Well," Klif said, consulting his chrono. "It's been four hours. What  do

you think?another two before the panic call comes?"

Navett shrugged, running through a quick mental calculation of  his  own.

He and Klif had been  conspicuously  elsewhere  at  the  time,  just  in  case

backchecks were made, but according to Pensin the  subtle  transfer  of  their

little organic time bombs to the Bothan techs' clothing had gone as smooth  as

spun gemweb. Four hours now since those techs had vanished into the Drev'starn

shield generator building; give them  another  hour  to  make  their  presence

known, two more after that for the  Bothans  to  become  fully  aware  of  the

magnitude of the problem and to exhaust all other  possibilities  for  dealing

with it... "I'm guessing at least three," he told Klif. "They aren't going  to

be in a hurry to call in offworlders."

"Well, the stuff's ready whenever they do," Klif said with a shrug.

Across the shop, the annoyingly cheery chime rang out as the  door  swung

open.

Settling his face into what  Klif  had  dubbed  their  earnest-but-stupid

expression, he looked up.

And felt the expression freeze across his face. There, walking  into  the

shop, were their two New Rep military types.

Beside him, Klif made a faint choking sound in the back  of  his  throat.

"Quiet," Navett murmured, adding a slightly dopey smile to his expression  and

bounding eagerly around the end of the counter toward their visitors.  "A  day

of fun and profit to you, or however that goes," he said, keying his voice  to

the pleasant yet vaguely pushy tone of a merchant determined to make  a  sale.

"Can I help you?"

"Just looking, thanks," one of the men said as they wandered down the row

of cages. They were two of a kind, Navett noted:  both  somewhat  short,  both

with slightly graying brown hair,  the  speaker  with  brown  eyes  while  his

companion had green.

And seen up close, Brown Eyes especially looked familiar.

"Sure, sure," Navett said,  hovering  nearby  in  traditional  shopkeeper

style. "Anything special you're lookin' for?"

"Not really," Green Eyes put in, gazing down into the polpian cage. "What

are these? Polpians?"

"Sure are," Navett said. Both of them had faint Corellian  accents,  too.

"You know your petstock."

"I know a little," Green Eyes said, gazing at him with a glint in his eye

that Navett didn't care for  at  all.  "I  thought  Bothans  are  allergic  to

polpians."

"Yeah, some of 'em are, I suppose," Navett said with a shrug.

"And yet you brought them to Bothawui?"

Navett put on a bewildered expression. "Well, sure," he said,  trying  to

sound slightly wounded. "Just 'cause some people  are  allergic  to  something

doesn't mean someone else won't wanna buy it. Not all Bothans are allergic  to

'em, either, and anyway there are lots more people here than just Bothans?"

He broke off as Brown Eyes  sneezed.  "There?see?"  he  said,  jabbing  a

finger toward the other as if the sneeze was a sort of vindication.  "Probably

something in here he's allergic to, too. But you still  came  in,  right?  And

I'll bet I can find something that'd make a really great pet for you."

The door chime sounded again, and Navett turned to see a thin  old  woman

come in.

The fringe companion Klif had mentioned? "Hi, there," he said, nodding to

her. "A day of fun and profit to you. Can I help you?"

"I hope so," she said. "You have any ratter thists?"

Navett felt his throat tighten. What in blazes was a ratter thist? "Don't

think I've ever heard of 'em," he  said  carefully,  knowing  better  than  to

pretend knowledge he didn't have. "I can check the lists, though,  see  if  we

can get 'em from somewhere. What kind of critter are they?"

"They're not all that popular, really," the woman  said.  Her  voice  was

casual, but she was watching him as closely as Green Eyes was. "They're  small

and agile, with tan-striped fur and retractable claws. They're sometimes  used

as livestock border guards in mountainous terrain."

"Oh, sure," Klif called  from  the  far  side  of  the  counter.  Leaning

casually on it, there was no sign of the datapad he undoubtedly had going  out

of sight under the flat surface. "You're talking about Kordulian krisses."

"Oh?Kordulian krisses," Navett said with a knowing nod. He'd never  heard

of those, either, but Klif's cue was obvious. "Sure. I just never heard of 'em

by that other name before. Klif, can we get 'em in?"

"Let me check," Klif said, making a show of pulling the datapad  up  onto

the counter and pretending to turn it on.

"What are these?" Brown Eyes called. He was  standing  over  the  mawkren

tank, looking in with a somewhat leery expression.

"Baby mawkrens," Navett told him, stepping to his side and looking fondly

down through the clear plastic  at  the  tiny  lizards  scrabbling  restlessly

around on top of each other. "Just whelped this morning. Cute, huh?"

"Adorable," Brown Eyes said, not sounding like he meant it.

"Here it is," Klif called. "Kordulian krisses. Let's see..."

There was a beep from Navett's comlink. " 'Scuse me,"  he  said,  pulling

out the instrument, a sudden feeling of dread coming over him. If this was the

call they were expecting... "Hello?"

"Is this Proprietor Navett of the Exoticalia Pet Emporium?" a  stiff  but

harried-sounding Bothan voice asked.

"Sure is," Navett said, striving for earnest-but-stupid cheerfulness.  It

was the call, all right; and with all the rotten luck it had come with a  pair

of New Rep agents standing right there listening. "What can I do for you?"

"We have a small but troublesome insect infestation problem," the  Bothan

said. "Our attempts to eliminate them have so far proved futile. As  a  dealer

in exotic animals, it was thought you might have some suggestions."

"Probably," Navett said. "Klif and I did some bug-squash work  before  we

got into the pet business. What kind are they?"

"They're unfamiliar to our experts," the other said, sounding  disgusted.

"All we know is that they're  very  small,  do  not  respond  to  any  of  our

extermination methods, and at random intervals all begin making a loud humming

noise."

"Could be skronkies," Navett suggested doubtfully. "They  make  a  pretty

annoying noise. Or aphrens, or?wait a minute. I'll bet they're metalmites. You

got any electronics or heavy machinery in the area?"

There was a sort of strangled sound from  the  comlink.  "A  considerable

amount of it, yes," the Bothan said. "What do metalmites do?"

"Chew through metal," Navett said. " 'Course, they  don't  actually  chew

through the stuff?they've got enzymes that?"

"I don't need the physiological details," the Bothan cut him off. "How do

we eliminate them?"

"Well, let's see," Navett said, rubbing his  chin  thoughtfully  for  the

benefit of the New Rep agents. Green Eyes had that glint in his eyes  again...

"First thing you  gotta  do  is  some  spraying.  You  got  any?let's  see?any

CorTrehan around? That's cordioline trehansicol, if you need the whole name."

"I don't know," the Bothan said. "But I'm sure we can get some made up."

"Before you do, make sure you got someone who knows what they're  doing,"

Navett warned. "Won't do you a bit of good to just slather the stuff around."

There was a brief pause. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you can't just slather the stuff  around,  that's  what,"  Navett

said, letting a little impatience creep into his voice. "You gotta get all the

spots where they're going to feed, but also leave 'em enough bare  spots?"  He

sighed. "Look, this isn't something for amateurs to mess  around  with.  We've

got the equipment to spray with?we use 'em to disinfect our cages  and  stock.

You get us the CorTrehan, and Klif and me can do the job for you."

"Impossible," the Bothan said sharply. "Offworlders cannot  be  permitted

in that area."

"Oh. Okay." Navett shrugged. He'd expected the automatic rejection of his

first offer. "Just trying to help. You'll have plenty of time to get rid of  a

single brood before it does much damage."

He frowned, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. "It is  just  a

single brood, isn't it? When they hum, do they all make one note, or are there

a couple of different pitches?"

There was a short pause. "There are several different notes," the  Bothan

said. "Five, perhaps six."

Navett let out a low whistle. "Five of 'em? Ho, boy. Hey,  Klif?they  got

five different broods in there. Well, good luck to you. I sure  hope  you  can

get someone on 'em before the brood war starts."

He keyed off the comlink. "Five broods," he murmured, shaking  his  head.

"Wow."

"Shocking," Green Eyes agreed, the  glint  still  in  his  eyes.  "Pretty

exotic pests, metalmites."

"They come in on ships sometimes," Navett said,  wishing  he  could  read

that face.

Green Eyes was suspicious, all right. But was  he  suspicious  of  Navett

personally, or just the general metalmite situation? "I've heard of 'em riding

mynocks, too.

Sort of scavenging along behind as they?"

There was another beep from his comlink. " 'Scuse  me  again,"  he  said,

pulling it out. "Hello?"

"This is Field Controller Tri'byia again," the same  Bothan  voice  came,

sounding disgusted. "I spoke with you a few moments ago."

"Yeah, sure," Navett said. "What can I do for you?"

"I've been instructed to ask how much you would charge for getting rid of

the metalmites," Tri'byia said.

"Oh, not much," Navett said, carefully suppressing a smile. From the tone

of Tri'byia's voice, it was clear the sudden official change of  heart  wasn't

his idea. "Matter of fact, as long as you spring for the CorTrehan?well, look.

The guy at Customs said we're gonna need a special merchant's license to  sell

our pets outside Drev'starn.

You get us that license, and we'll do it for free."

"For free?" Tri'byia repeated, the pitch of  his  voice  dropping  a  few

steps. "Why so generous?"

"Listen, I've seen what metalmites can do," Navett said stiffly. "If  you

think I want to run a business in a town where they've gotten a foothold,  you

can think again. And the faster we get started, the easier it'll be to get rid

of them.

You get us a merchant's license and the juice, and we'll call it even."

"I believe that can be arranged," Tri'byia  said  reluctantly.  "You  and

your equipment will have to submit to a full scan before you  can  be  allowed

into the facility."

"No problem," Navett said. "Actually, this'll be kind  of  fun?just  like

old times.

When do you want us?"

"A landspeeder will pick you up in thirty minutes," the Bothan  said.  He

still didn't sound happy, but there was a  cautious  note  of  relief  in  his

voice. "Be ready to go."

"We will," Navett promised.

The Bothan clicked off without bothering to say good-bye. "Man, you  just

never know, do you?" Navett said philosophically, sliding  the  comlink  away.

"Sorry, folks. Did you want us to order some of those krisses for you,  ma'am?

Klif, you find anything on the lists?"

"Looks like we can get 'em from a supplier on Eislo?have 'em here in  two

or three days," Klif reported. "Or we can get 'em  shipped  in  straight  from

Kordu itself. That'll probably be a little cheaper, but it'll take longer."

"You want to order today?" Navett asked hopefully. "You only have to  put

a tenth down up front."

The old woman shook her head. "I think I'll see if anyone  else  in  town

has them in stock first."

"Well, if you don't find anyone, come on back," Klif called as the  three

of them headed for the  door.  "We  can  get  express  service  for  a  pretty

reasonable fee."

"We'll keep that in mind," Brown Eyes promised. "Thanks. We may be back."

They filed out, passing across the front window and out of Navett's  view

as the door closed behind them. "I'll just bet you will," he  said  softly  to

himself.

He shook his head, dismissing them from his mind. Fringe lifters and even

New Rep agents were completely unimportant right now. What was  important  was

that their little metalmite time bombs, introduced into the  shield  generator

techs' clothing, had done their job.

And now it was time for Klif and him to do theirs.

"Let's get ready,"  he  said,  heading  briskly  toward  the  back  room.

"Mustn't keep the Bothans waiting."

* * *

"And here," General Hestiv said, keying a combination  into  the  keypad,

"is where you'll be working."

"Okay," Ghent said, glancing nervously  down  the  long  corridor  behind

them. It was a long way back to the main base, and Hestiv had assured him that

hardly anyone ever came out here anymore.  But  there  was  a  whole  Imperial

Ubiqtorate station back there, and he couldn't shake the feeling he was  being

watched by unfriendly eyes.

With a puff of slightly stale air the door swung  open.  "There  we  go,"

Hestiv said, gesturing him forward. "Go on in."

Ghent stepped into the doorway, throwing Hestiv a sideways glance  as  he

passed.

Admiral Pellaeon had vouched for him, he knew. But the man was  still  an

Imperial officer, and Ghent was from the New  Republic.  If  this  Moff  Disra

person wanted to do away with him, this would be a perfect place to do it.

And then he got his first glimpse of the room itself...

"This is your new temporary home," Hestiv said from behind him. "What  do

you think?"

Ghent hardly heard him. Could hardly believe his eyes, for  that  matter,

as he looked around the tiny  room.  Crammed  into  it  were  an  Everest  448

DataSifter, a pair of Fedukowski D/Square decrypt/decipherers, five  Wickstrom

K220 heavy-duty peripheral processors, a Merilang-1221 full-spectrum numerical

analyzer?

"The equipment's probably nothing like what you're used to," Hestiv  said

apologetically. "But hopefully it'll do."

?and there as a  centerpiece,  nothing  less  than  a  brand-new  Rikhous

Masterline-70 OcTerminal. A Masterline-70! "No, not  really,"  Ghent  managed,

still staring goggle-eyed at the shining array. And they were going to let him

have this whole room? All to himself? "But it'll do just fine."

"Good," Hestiv said, crossing the room in front of him  and  keying  open

another door Ghent hadn't yet noticed. "Your living quarters are in  here,  so

you won't have to leave this section at all. In fact, you might want to change

the coding on the door lock after I leave so that no one can even accidentally

walk in on you."

"Sure," Ghent said, his nervousness about this place  already  forgotten.

"I can seal it up real tight. Okay if I get started?"

"Whenever you're ready," Hestiv said. Dimly, Ghent was  aware  the  other

was staring at him oddly. "You know  how  to  get  hold  of  me  if  you  need

anything. Good luck."

"Sure," Ghent said as Hestiv stepped back through the doorway. There  was

another puff of air, and Ghent was alone.

Dropping his carrypack to the floor, he shoved it with his  foot  in  the

general direction of the living area. Imperial Moffs, lurking danger, and even

imminent civil wars all but forgotten, he pulled out the chair in front of the

Masterline-70 and sat down.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

It took an entire hour of scans and examinations under the watchful  eyes

and ungentle hands of what  seemed  to  Navett  to  be  half  of  Drev'starn's

contingent of Bothawui Security. But at last, with the obvious reluctance of a

being who heartily  dislikes  a  situation  but  has  no  better  alternatives

available, Field Controller Tri'byia finally led him and Klif  down  into  the

lower levels of the shield generator building.

Into the very center of the Drev'starn defense system.

"Impressive stuff," Navett  commented  to  his  glowering  guards  as  he

glanced casually around the room. "I can see why you  wanna  get  rid  of  'em

fast."

He hoisted the tank of CorTrehan a little higher on his shoulder. "Okay,"

he said, waggling his slender sprayer loosely in his hand. "First thing is for

you to show me anything really delicate or critical you don't want 'em getting

into."

"We don't want them getting into any of it," Tri'byia  snapped,  his  fur

rippling.

"Yeah, sure, sure," Navett soothed. "I just meant where do you want us to

start spraying? We should do the most delicate stuff first."

Tri'byia's fur rippled again. "I suppose that seems reasonable," he  said

unhappily. Clearly, the last thing he wanted to do  was  point  out  the  most

important parts of their precious shield generator  to  a  couple  of  humans.

"This way."

Not that  it  mattered,  of  course.  Navett  knew  perfectly  well  what

everything in this complex was, and neither he nor Klif needed the Bothans  to

point out the kill-points to them. But it was something an earnest but  stupid

pet shop owner might be expected to ask. Besides, he was curious  to  see  how

honest the Bothans might get in the middle of a crisis like this.

"You may  start  there,"  Tri'byia  said,  stopping  and  pointing  to  a

completely nonvital backup comm console.

"Okay," Navett said. Apparently, not very.

They'd been spraying  for  fifteen  minutes,  laying  out  the  elaborate

curlicue  chemical  trails  that  were  the  only  way  to  effectively   kill

metalmites, when things finally began to get  interesting.  "This  one  next,"

Tri'byia said, laying a hand protectively on the edge of one of  the  consoles

responsible for maintaining the power-frequency coupling between  the  various

poles of the planetary shield.

"Right," Navett said, his heart starting to beat  faster  as  he  stepped

over to the console. This was it: the first blade thrust into the heart of the

species whose actions had cost the Empire so much over the years.  The  Bothan

techs had already removed the access panels; shifting his grip subtly  on  the

sprayer as he crouched down, Navett eased the tip into the maze of electronics

and gave it a delicate squirt.

Only this time he left more than just the metalmite-killing CorTrehan  to

bead up on the circuit cards and drip slowly down onto the power supplies  and

ventilation fan casings below. This time, his new grip had allowed the slender

tank built into the sprayer handle to dribble some of its own special contents

into the mix.

The hour-long examination the Bothans had put their equipment through had

scanned for everything those paranoid minds could have  thought  of:  weapons,

spy equipment, explosives,  poisons,  soporifics,  acids,  wire-spinners,  and

probably fifty other potential threats.

But nowhere in all  those  multiple  layers  of  precautions  had  anyone

thought to program a check for food.

Not  that  anyone  in  the  generator  building  would  have  found  this

particular brew even remotely appetizing, not even the  metalmites.  In  fact,

now that the rotten little vermin had played their part, it was time for  them

to die.

He and Klif spent the next two hours moving  systematically  through  the

complex, laying down their poison trails  and,  at  perhaps  twenty  carefully

selected points, adding in a squirt of their liquid nutrient. By the time they

finished, the thick, sweet-sour smell of  the  CorTrehan  was  almost  like  a

physical barrier that had to be pushed aside as they walked through it.

"Okay," Navett said cheerfully as they were finally  escorted  back  into

the security entrance area. "First step's done. Now all you gotta do is put  a

loudspeaker on that's blasting out the broods' different carrier pitches. That

keeps 'em from talking back and forth inside their groups, and that keeps  'em

from breeding faster so they can  fight  with  the  other  broods.  Gives  the

CorTrehan time to work. You see?"

"Yes," Tri'byia said,  looking  marginally  less  unhappy  now  that  the

offworlders were no longer in direct contact with his precious machinery. "How

long will this be necessary?"

"Oh, a week ought to do it," Navett said. "Eight or nine days just to  be

on the safe side. Some broods are harder to kill  than  others.  Don't  worry,

though?they won't be eating anything during any of that. Mostly, they'll  just

be dying."

"Very well," Tri'byia agreed reluctantly. "I have only one more question,

then.

I am told these pests are quite rare. How is it they were  able  to  find

their way in here?"

Navett shrugged as casually as he could. The groundwork  had  been  laid,

but that didn't mean they were out of  the  snake  pit  yet.  If  the  Bothans

decided to be suspicious enough to go back in and clean out everything he  and

Klif had just laid down, this whole setup would have been  for  nothing.  "You

got me," he said.

"You bring any new equipment in here in the past week or two?"

The Bothan's fur rippled uncertainly. "There were two pieces of equipment

that arrived seven days ago. But both were scanned thoroughly before they were

brought in."

"Yeah, but I'll bet your scanners aren't programmed  for  heavily  metal-

based life like these  things,"  Navett  pointed  out.  It  was  a  safe  bet;

certainly the Bothans' scanners hadn't spotted the little beasts riding in  on

their incoming techs' clothing. "Tell you the truth, I don't  know  if  anyone

really knows where they come from or how they get around. They just pop up now

and then and make trouble.

They probably came in with that equipment,  though.  You  might  want  to

catch a couple of 'em and use 'em to reprogram your  scanners  so  they  can't

make any more trouble."

"Thank you," Tri'byia said, a bit huffily.  Apparently,  Bothans  of  his

stature were not used to having the obvious pointed out to them.

"No problem," Navett said cheerfully. Earnest but stupid, he was the type

to take everything at full face value, without noticing any undertones.  "Glad

we could help. And you'll get that merchant's license for us, right?"

"I will do what I can to help with it," Tri'byia said.

Which was, Navett noticed, not precisely what he'd  originally  promised.

But that was all right. In six days, if all went according to  plan,  Tri'byia

would cease to exist, along with the city of Drev'starn and  as  much  of  the

rest of Bothawui as the  Imperial  Star  Destroyers  hidden  out  there  could

manage.

And on that day, Navett planned to look down on the shattered world  from

one of those Star Destroyers and laugh. But for now, all he needed to  do  was

smile. "Great," he said cheerfully. "Thanks a lot. And if you guys  ever  need

anything else, just give us a call."

He and Klif didn't say anything to each other on the ride back to the pet

shop.

Nor did they speak once they were there, at least not about  anything  of

substance, until they'd gone over each  other  thoroughly  with  the  spy-mike

detector hidden in the bottom of the dopplefly cage.

But if Tri'byia didn't especially like them, he apparently wasn't  overly

suspicious of them, either. The spy scan came up clean.

"Sloppy," Klif grunted as they returned the detector back to  its  hiding

place. "You'd think they'd at least want to hear us slapping each other on the

back about getting our license so cheap."

"I'm sure they backchecked our records before they called us in,"  Navett

said, sniffing in disgust as he slapped at his shirt. That  blasted  CorTrehan

stuck to everything. "Did you get a chance to see where our power conduit came

into the building? I never got to that side of the building."

"I saw it." Klif nodded. "They've actually got a splice going off one  of

the power  cables,  probably  ready  to  go  to  the  new  equipment  Tri'byia

mentioned."

"But they hadn't opened the wall any?"

Klif shook his head. "They're not that stupid. No, the whole wall's still

there."

"Fine," Navett said, shrugging. It would have been handy to have had some

of   that   meter-thick,   reinforced,   heavily   braced,   multiple-layered,

impenetrable wall out of their way. But it certainly wasn't necessary.

"I'm just worried about it taking another six days before we  can  spring

this," Klif continued. "Won't the stuff we left start to deteriorate?"

"Not a problem," Navett assured him. "The tricky part now is going to  be

digging down to the power conduit from that  Ho'Din  place  and  then  cutting

through it without setting off sensors from here to Odve'starn."

"You think they've wired the conduit itself?"

"I would if I were in charge," Navett said. "Horvic and Pensin can get us

into the place after hours, but we won't have much time each  night  to  work.

Slow and steady is the way to go, and six days should be just about right."

"I suppose," Klif said, sobering. "Of course, that assumes we  even  have

six more days. Or have you finally decided to do something about those New Rep

agents?" Abruptly, he snapped his fingers. "Oh, blast?I just made  that  face.

Wedge Antilles."

"You're right," Navett said, grimacing as the name belatedly clicked with

Brown Eyes's face. General Wedge Antilles, leader of that  multi-cursed  Rogue

Squadron.

A single insignificant group of X-wings  that  had  probably  caused  the

Empire more trouble than all the Bothans in  the  galaxy  put  together.  "And

that's going to make things that much more awkward. Even without New  Republic

celebrities involved, a triple murder would create a major fuss."

He let his eyes drift around the shop, taking in the rows of  cages,  the

subtle mix of smells and sounds. Surely Antilles wouldn't see any threat in  a

harmless pet shop.

But no. They'd been standing right here when the call came  through,  and

knew he and Klif had been invited into  the  shield  generator  building.  No,

they'd have the pet shop marked now for sure. "But  I  don't  suppose  we  can

afford to let them poke around anymore, either," he conceded.  "I  guess  it's

time we took them out."

"Now you're talking," Klif said with dark approval. "You want me to  take

care of it?"

Navett cocked an eyebrow. "What, all by yourself?"

"Hey, they're just X-wing jocks,"  Klif  said.  "At  least  Antilles  is.

Outside their cockpits they're babes in arms."

"Maybe," Navett said. "But they found us okay. And that old  woman  looks

like she knows her way around, too."

"Meaning?"

Navett gave him a tight smile.  "Meaning  you  don't  take  them  out  by

yourself," he said. "We'll do it together."

* * *

Moranda sipped at her blue-green  liqueur.  "I  don't  know,"  she  said,

shaking her head. "I can't say that any of them really leaped up and waved  at

me."

"That's one way to put it,"  Wedge  said  sourly,  massaging  his  aching

temples with thumb and  middle  finger.  Fifty  different  shops,  businesses,

service spots, and eating establishments. All of them  set  up  in  Drev'starn

since the warships began gathering overhead; all of them visited personally by

him, Corran, and Moranda in the past four days. The business turnover rate  on

Bothawui must be astronomical. "Another way is to just admit we've hit another

dead end."

"I'm not sure I'd go quite that far," Corran  said  slowly,  meditatively

swirling his drink around in its glass. "There were a couple  of  places  that

were definitely more on edge than others. That Meshakian  jewelry  owner,  for

one."

"Stolen goods dealer," Moranda dismissed him with a  flip  of  her  hand.

"And he spotted us right off as anything but casual  customers,  by  the  way.

You've really got to learn how to rein in that straight-backed  CorSec  stance

of yours, Corran."

"And that Ho'Din tapcafe," Corran continued, ignoring her  as  he  ran  a

finger down their list. "It's sitting right on top of one of  the  power-cable

conduits to the generator building."

"And has been there for ten years," Moranda reminded him.

"Except that the day manager mentioned they'd  just  hired  a  couple  of

humans for the late  cleanup  shift,  remember?"  Corran  countered.  "There's

something about that that bothers me."

Wedge eyed him over his cup. Corran, he knew, had  never  had  much  luck

with the mind-reading aspects of the Force, not like Luke or Leia. But  if  he

couldn't retrieve other people's thoughts, he could still pull out impressions

and hints and textures. Combined with his old CorSec  detective  training,  it

meant that anything that bothered him was worth taking a hard look at.

"And then, of course," Corran  added,  "there  are  our  friends  at  the

Exoticalia Pet Emporium."

Wedge looked at Moranda, waiting for her rebuttal. But  it  didn't  come.

"There's them, all right," she said instead, frowning down at the tabletop. "I

don't like that one at all."

"I thought you said none of them had jumped out at you,"  Wedge  reminded

her.

"No, they didn't," Moranda agreed. "That's just the point. The  pet  guys

acted just perfect. But how many pet shop owners do you know who  also  happen

to be experts at getting rid of vermin? And exotic ones like metalmites, yet?"

"We should be able to backcheck them and see if that kind  of  experience

shows up in their records," Corran said. But he didn't look any  happier  than

Moranda did.

"I just wish we knew where exactly  this  metalmite  invasion  had  taken

place."

"Has to be someplace  with  really  high  security,"  Wedge  said.  "They

weren't even going to let them in at first."

"And at the same time, that decision got overruled real  quick,"  Moranda

said,  nodding.  "Someplace  with  ultra  high  security,  but  yet  extremely

sensitive and vital."

For a moment the three of them looked at each  other.  Corran  broke  the

silence first. "It's the shield generator building," he said. "There's nothing

else in Drev'starn that fits."

"Agreed," Moranda said, sipping at her drink. "Question now is,  was  the

metalmite incursion the attack or the bait? If it's the attack?"

She broke off at a muffled beep from Wedge's comlink, buried  deep  in  a

pocket of his jacket. "Who knows you're here?" she asked.

"Our shuttle," Wedge told her, digging out the instrument. "We set  up  a

relay for any incoming transmissions."  Thumbing  it  on,  he  keyed  for  low

volume. "Go Red Two," he gave the codeword.

The message was very short. "This is father," Bel Iblis's familiar  voice

said. "All is forgiven; come on home."

Wedge squeezed the comlink hard. "Acknowledged," he said. "On our way."

He keyed the comlink off and looked up to find Corran's gaze hard on him.

"Dad?"

Wedge nodded. "Dad," he confirmed. "Time to go home."

"Meaning?" Moranda asked.

"Meaning we have to leave," Wedge told her. "Right now."

"Oh, that's convenient," Moranda growled, glaring at him. "What about the

shield generator?"

"From now on the Bothans are on their  own,"  Wedge  said,  draining  his

drink and sorting out coins onto the table. "I'm sorry, but we  were  only  on

temporary loan anyway."

Moranda grimaced, but nodded. "I understand," she said. "Well, it was fun

while it lasted."

"You should probably give Bothan Security a call," Wedge  said,  standing

up. "Point them to our friends at the pet shop."

"Whatever," Moranda said, waving a hand. "Happy flights."

"Thanks," Wedge said. "Come on, Corran."

"Just a second," Corran said. He hadn't moved from his chair,  and  there

was a glint in his eyes as  he  looked  at  Moranda.  "I  want  to  know  what

Moranda's going to do now."

"Oh, go on," she chided him,  making  little  shooing  motions  with  her

hands. "I'll be fine."

"In other words, you're going to stay on this," he said bluntly.

She lifted her eyebrows. "That's very good. CorSec teach you  how  to  do

that?"

"You haven't answered the question," Wedge said, sitting back down again.

"You are going to call Security, aren't you?"

"And tell them what?" she countered. "We don't have  a  scrap  of  proof.

It's worse than that, really?they presumably already did a backcheck on Navett

and his buddy, and they still let them into the generator building."

"So what are you  going  to  do?"  Wedge  persisted.  "Stay  on  this  by

yourself?"

Moranda's mouth set itself into hard lines. "I was given  an  assignment,

Wedge," she said quietly. "I'm supposed to stay here and watch  for  Vengeance

attempts against Bothawui."

Corran shook his head. "That's not a good idea," he said.  "If  Vengeance

is being driven or guided by Imperials?"

"So where are you two off to?" Moranda demanded scornfully.  "A  vacation

on the beaches of Berchest? I'll lay you fifty-to-one  it'll  be  a  lot  more

dangerous wherever you're going than anything I'm likely to run into here."

"Moranda?" Wedge began.

"Besides which, you don't have time to argue about it," she cut him  off.

"If 'Dad' is who I think he is, he's not going to be happy if you two get home

late. Now scoot, both of you. Thanks for all the drinks."

Reluctantly, Wedge stood up again. She was right, of course; and she  was

certainly more than old enough to make this kind of decision for herself.  But

that didn't mean he had to like it. "Come on,  Corran.  Moranda...  you  watch

yourself, okay?"

"You, too," she said, smiling up at him. "Don't worry about me.  I'll  be

just fine."

CHAPTER

26

There was a strange, almost unworldly aroma tugging at her senses as Mara

drifted toward consciousness. Something strange, yet vaguely pleasant...

"Good morning," Luke's voice came through the haze.  With  a  jolt,  Mara

came fully awake.

And in that first disorienting moment wished  she  hadn't.  Even  as  she

opened her eyes to the dimly lit gloom around her, she suddenly  became  aware

of a hundred sparks of pain jabbing through her muscles from her heels through

her legs and back and right to the nape of her neck. "Ow," she  grunted  under

her breath.

Luke's face appeared overhead, looking down at her with concern. "Is your

shoulder still hurting?" he asked.

Mara frowned, blinking away a little more of the haze clouding her  mind.

Right?her badly burned shoulder. Craning her neck  down,  focusing  eyes  that

still weren't entirely awake, she peered down at her charred jumpsuit.

At her charred jumpsuit, and the smooth, unmarked  skin  showing  through

the hole there.

"No," she said, not quite believing it. "The shoulder  feels  just  fine.

It's?oh, right. Your healing trance."

"Some disorientation is normal when you  first  come  out  of  it,"  Luke

assured her.

"Don't worry."

"I wasn't." She eased her shoulders around, trying to  ignore  the  extra

wave of tingles the movement sent running through her back.  Luke's  hand  was

there, gripping her arm and helping her sit up. "You said it was morning?"

"Well, afternoon, actually," Luke amended. "But Han  once  told  me  that

anytime you woke up was technically morning."

"That sounds like his casual slant on things," Mara  said.  "How  long?in

real time?have I been lying there?"

"About five days," Luke told her. "Easy, now."

"Oh, you bet," she agreed, wincing as muscles that had been laid  on  for

five straight days continued to complain loudly about their mistreatment. "I'm

impressed. I don't think even a bacta tank would have done the job that fast."

"You have a strong Force gift," Luke said, his hand hovering ready by her

arm. "That usually helps the healing process."

"It's definitely one I'm going to have to learn,"  she  decided,  looking

around.

That aroma she thought she'd dreamed was still there...

"It's some kind of roast avian," Luke explained, nodding toward the  back

of the landing. "A wake-up gift to you from the Qom Jha."

"Really," Mara said, hoisting herself carefully to her feet and  hobbling

over there on unsteady legs. It was a roast avian, all right, simmering  on  a

cooking pad. "Awfully nice of them. Where did you get the cooker?"

"I sent Keeper Of Promises back to your Defender  for  the  rest  of  the

survival gear," Luke explained. "I'd rather have sent them back to my  X-wing?

the spare kit Karrde put together was a lot more complete. But after our brush

with the Threateners they're not all that eager to go roaming around outside."

"This from the species that eats fire creepers raw?" Mara pointed out  as

she eased back into a sitting position by the cooking pad.  "Pretty  selective

skittishness."

"It's a little more complicated than that," Luke  said,  seating  himself

cross-legged on the floor across the cooking pad from her and gesturing toward

the food. "Hence the gift, actually. They've come to the conclusion  that  you

saved their lives in there."

"I don't know how they figure that," Mara grunted, tearing off a piece of

the roast. "We were the ones being shot at, not them."

Luke's lips  puckered.  "Actually,  there's  some  question  about  that.

Splitter Of Stones thinks it was the Qom Jha who the Threateners  were  firing

at, not us, at least until you started shooting back. And as  I've  gone  back

through my memories of the battle, I think he's right."

Mara took a careful bite. The meat was a little overcooked for her taste,

but not bad for all that. Anyway, as her loudly growling stomach reminded her,

a person who hadn't eaten in five days  couldn't  afford  to  be  too  choosy.

"Interesting thought," she said, "but I'm not sure where it gets  us.  Whoever

they were shooting at, the fact is, they're still touchy about strangers."

"Maybe," Luke said, his tone odd. "But maybe not.  Haven't  you  wondered

why the Threateners never came into the cave looking for you after you knocked

yourself out?"

"Are you sure they didn't come in?" Mara countered around a  mouthful  of

food.

"The Qom Jha say they didn't," Luke told her. "There  were  a  couple  of

flybys with their ships, and that was it. In fact, as far as  Child  Of  Winds

knows, they never even conducted an outside ground search of the area."

Mara chewed thoughtfully, resisting the urge to point out that  Child  Of

Winds was not exactly the most reliable source of information around.  "Okay,"

she said.

"Let's assume the Threateners lost interest in me. Where  does  that  get

us?"

"If they simply lost interest, I don't know," Luke  said.  "But  what  if

they didn't lose interest, but just decided to wait until you found  your  own

way into the High Fortress?"

Mara took another bite. That was a disturbing thought. In fact, it was an

extremely disturbing thought. All the more  so  since  that  exact  course  of

action was one she had actually considered early in her  captivity.  "I  don't

know if Karrde mentioned it to you," she said slowly, "but the  way  we  found

this system was by tracking the escape vectors from two of their ships  to  an

intersect point.

My assumption has always been that they simply didn't know we could track

their vector for a few microseconds after they jumped to lightspeed.  But  now

I'm not so sure."

"You think they wanted you to come here?"

"It would fit with them not searching  all  that  hard  for  me  after  I

landed," Mara pointed out. "Of course, if we argue that direction we then have

to come up with an explanation as to why they tried to shoot you down."

"Maybe they're not interested in having more than one guest at  a  time,"

Luke suggested, gazing out into space. "Or maybe they don't want  to  talk  to

anyone from the New Republic until they've talked to you first."

Mara eyed him closely. There had been a  flicker  in  his  emotions  just

then... "Is that just off the top of  your  head?"  she  asked.  "Or  are  you

getting something from the Force about it?"

He shook his head, still gazing at nothing. "I'm not sure," he  admitted.

"But I have the feeling... no, never mind."

"No never mind what?" Mara demanded suspiciously, pressing at the corners

of his mind. "Come on, we don't have time for games."

A muscle in his cheek twitched. "I get the feeling it's you they want  to

see," he said. "You, specifically."

Mara lifted her eyebrows. "I'm  flattered.  My  fame  just  continues  to

spread."

"Eater Of Fire Creepers did say  they'd  heard  the  Threateners  talking

about  you,"  Luke  reminded  her.  "I  wish  we  knew  the  context  of   the

conversation."

There was a flapping from the stairway, and one of the Qom Jha  appeared.

It spoke?"Thank you, Flyer Through Spikes," Luke said. "Go see  if  Keeper  Of

Promises has any news, if you would."

The Qom Jha replied, and with  a  flurry  of  wings  was  gone  down  the

stairway. "I've had some of the Qom Jha patrolling  the  upper  areas  of  the

stairway and listening for activity outside the doors," Luke explained. "Flyer

Through Spikes tells me the upper areas of the  fortress  were  active  for  a

while this morning, but they seem to be quiet again."

"Ah," Mara said, tearing off another bite with perhaps a bit  more  force

than necessary. Those blasted Qom Jha and their blasted unintelligible voices?

"Something wrong?" Luke asked.

Mara glared at him. "You know, Skywalker, it's really hard  to  keep  any

thoughts to yourself when you're around."

He gave her an innocent look that had far too much amusement  in  it  for

her taste.

"Odd. I seem to remember a situation not too long ago when  you  couldn't

wait to unload some of those choicer thoughts on me."

Mara grimaced. "Feeling a little more cheerful about  our  past  mistakes

this morning, are we?"

He  sobered.  "Not  cheerful,  no,"  he  said.  "Just  learning  how   to

acknowledge them, learn from them, and then pick up and move on.  I've  had  a

lot of time for thinking during these past five days, you know."

"You reach any particular conclusions?"

He looked straight at her. "I know why you didn't turn to the dark side,"

he said. "And why you keep coming up against limits on what you can do through

the Force."

With a casualness she didn't especially feel, Mara took another bite  and

settled her back against the stone wall behind her. "I'm listening."

"The essence of the dark side is selfishness," Luke said. "The  elevation

of yourself and your own desires above everything else."

Mara nodded. "Fairly obvious so far."

"The point is that all the time you were serving the  Emperor,  you  were

never doing so out of selfish motives," Luke said. "You were serving, even  if

it was Palpatine and his own selfish  ends.  And  service  to  others  is  the

essence of being a Jedi."

Mara thought about that. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No,  I  don't

like it.

Service to evil is still evil. What you're saying is that doing something

wrong isn't really wrong if your motives are good. That's nonsense."

"I agree," Luke said. "But that's not what I'm saying. Some of the things

you did were certainly wrong; but because you weren't doing them for your  own

purposes, the acts themselves didn't open you to the dark side."

Mara glowered at her food. "I see the difference," she said. "But I still

don't like it."

"Actually, it's not that much  different  from  the  situation  with  the

Jensaarai that Corran and I ran into on Susevfi," Luke said. "They didn't know

how to be Jedi, but were still serving the best they knew how."

"And in the process had gotten themselves so bent around  that  you  were

years untwisting them," Mara reminded him tartly. "Anyway, they at  least  had

the memory of a role model to follow, didn't they? That what's-his-name Jedi?"

"Nikkos Tyris," Luke  said,  nodding.  "Which  brings  up  an  even  more

interesting thought. Maybe you had a role model, too."

Mara shook her head. "Not a chance. There wasn't a single person  in  the

inner court with a scrap of what I'd consider virtue or morality."

"Then maybe it was  someone  in  your  life  before  you  were  taken  to

Coruscant," Luke suggested. "Your parents, or some close friend."

Mara bit off the last bite of her meal and tossed the carcass back into a

corner.

"This is a dead-end conversation," she declared firmly, wiping her  hands

on her jumpsuit legs where the oils and  grime  would  eventually  flake  off.

"Let's get back to the job at hand. Where did you stash my blaster?"

Luke didn't move. "I know you don't remember much about  your  past,"  he

said quietly. "For whatever it's worth, I understand how you feel."

"Thanks," Mara growled. "That certainly helps."

"Would you like to have that past back again?"

She frowned at him, conflicting emotions surging  suddenly  against  each

other. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

"There are techniques Jedi can use to pull out buried memories," he said.

"And you could be a Jedi, Mara. You could be a powerful Jedi."

"Right," Mara bit out. "All I have to do is declare I'm  ready  to  serve

the galaxy, right?"

Luke's forehead creased, and she caught the flicker  of  puzzlement  from

him. "What is it about that that scares you?" he  asked.  "You've  served  and

worked with people all your life?Palpatine, Karrde, Leia and Han and  me.  And

once you've offered your loyalty, it's for keeps. You can do this?I  know  you

can."

Mara squeezed her hand into a fist, half  minded  to  close  the  subject

again and this time make sure she sat on the lid. But deep inside she knew  he

deserved an answer on this one. "I can't just offer that  kind  of  blank-line

invitation," she said. "Sure I can be loyal; but only to the people  I  choose

to be loyal to. I'm not ready to open myself up to anyone who walks in off the

street."

She grimaced. "Besides, I keep remembering stories  about  how  the  last

step to becoming a Jedi  is  usually  making  some  supreme  and  rather  ugly

personal sacrifice. I'm not crazy about that one, either."

"It's not always as bad as it seems," Luke said, and Mara could sense his

discomfort as unpleasant memories of his own  floated  back  to  the  surface.

"Just before he died, Master Yoda told me that before I would truly be a  Jedi

I needed to face Vader again. I jumped to the conclusion that that meant I had

to either kill him or let him kill me. As it  turned  out,  it  didn't  happen

either way."

"But you had to be willing to make that  sacrifice  if  necessary,"  Mara

pointed out. "Thanks, but I'm not interested."

"Then you automatically limit your  capabilities,"  Luke  said.  "If  you

aren't willing to make a commitment?"

"Commitment?" Mara snorted. "You're the one telling me about  commitment?

What about Callista, or Gaeriel, or any of  the  other  women  you've  brushed

paths with over the past ten years? Where's been the commitment there?"

Luke's flash of anger was so  sudden  and  so  unexpected  it  physically

shocked her back against the stone wall. "You should talk," he snapped.  "What

about Lando?

Huh?"

For a long moment they just glared at each other. Mara held  her  breath,

bracing herself for another  outburst,  stories  of  uncontrolled  Jedi  anger

running ominously through her mind.

But instead, she felt his anger drain away, replaced by shame and a  deep

embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he said, dropping his eyes  away  from  her  face.

"That was uncalled for."

"No, I'm the one who should apologize," Mara said, trying to hide her own

guilt feelings from him and knowing she was being only partly successful.  She

knew better than to fight like that. "I know how you felt about  those  women,

and what happened to them. I'm sorry."

"That's all right," Luke murmured. "What happened to  them  was  probably

partly my fault. Maybe even mostly my fault. I'm the one who  dabbled  in  the

dark side, not them."

"You acknowledge your mistakes, and learn from them," Mara reminded  him.

"Then you pick up and move on. It's time to pick up and move on."

"I suppose." Still not looking at her, he climbed to  his  feet.  "You're

right?we should get moving. I had the Qom Jha make some measurements while you

were sleeping, and it looks like the upper door out of here should let us  out

in one of the top three floors of the fortress. Let's try that approach."

"Just a second," Mara said, looking up at him. She had promised  herself?

rather cavalierly, she realized in retrospect?that she wasn't  going  to  tell

him this until he  point-blank  asked  her  about  it.  But  her  silence  was

childish. Anyway, the accusation he'd just thrown in  her  face  was  probably

close enough. "You wanted to know about Lando and me. Right?"

She saw the twitch in his neck. "That's all right," he said. "It's really

none of my business."

"I'm making it your business," Mara said, getting  to  her  feet  so  she

could look him straight in the eye. "What was  between  Lando  and  me  was...

absolutely nothing."

His eyes flicked suspiciously to hers. "What do you mean?"

"I mean just what I said: absolutely nothing," she repeated. "Karrde  had

an important mission for me to carry out, and because Lando had  supplied  the

starting point he invited himself along. The?well,  personal  aspects  to  the

whole thing were nothing but window dressing to keep people from figuring  out

what we were up to."

She could feel Luke probing at the edges of her  mind.  "You  could  have

told me," he said, not quite accusingly.

"You could have asked me," she countered.  "You  never  seemed  all  that

interested."

He grimaced, and she could feel a fresh wave of embarrassment  wash  over

him. "I didn't, did I?" he admitted.

"You learn, and move on," Mara reminded him. "Actually, if  you  want  to

come right down to it, you were the one who got the whole thing started in the

first place. Remember that beckon call  you  found  on  Dagobah  and  took  to

Lando's place on Nkllon?"

Luke looked at her sharply. "Yes. In fact, I was just thinking about it a

few days ago. I wondered why it had suddenly come to mind."

"Proddings of the Force, no doubt," Mara said. It was as good  an  answer

as any.

"It turns out that particular beckon  call  used  to  belong  to  someone

Karrde once knew who had dropped out of sight some years  back.  Fellow  named

Jorj Car'das?ever hear of him?"

Luke shook his head. "No."

"Apparently, not a lot of people have," she said. "Made  things  so  much

more challenging. Anyway, with the beckon call we had a  starting  point,  and

Karrde asked me to try to track  him  down.  And  as  I  said,  Lando?smelling

profit, no doubt?insisted on tagging along."

"Must have been a long search," Luke murmured. "The stories  of  you  and

Lando..."

"It took some years," Mara said. "Off and on work, of course." She lifted

her eyebrows. "For whatever it's worth, the romance part of  the  cover  story

drove me crazy. But finding Car'das was important to Karrde, so I  stuck  with

it. Like you said, loyalty."

She hissed gently between her teeth with the  memories.  "Though  it  did

prove exceptionally embarrassing at times. There was one  particular  week  on

M'haeli where Lando was trying to sugar-talk the  Vicebaron  Sukarian  out  of

some information we needed. I had to become a  giddy,  vacant-brained  bit  of

decorative fluff, because Sukarian  automatically  put  that  class  of  woman

beneath his contempt and the role gave me the freedom of  movement  I  needed.

The worst part was that Solo caught me in the act with a  comm  relay  when  I

thought it was Sukarian calling. I've never quite had the  nerve  to  ask  him

what he thought of that."

"I don't think it would have ruined his opinion of you," Luke  said,  his

voice an odd mixture  of  support,  gallantry,  and  lingering  embarrassment.

"Though I imagine Sukarian's opinion is probably beyond repair at this point."

"Oh, I don't think so," Mara assured him. "I usually wore one of  Lando's

shirts during Sukarian's late-night visits and comm calls, and I made sure  to

leave one of them hanging on the open door of his private office  safe.  After

I'd gutted it."

Luke smiled. A tentative, still somewhat shamefaced smile, but a  genuine

smile nevertheless. At this point, that was enough. "His  reaction  must  have

been interesting."

Mara nodded. "I like to think so."

"Yes." Luke took a deep breath, and  she  could  sense  him  forcing  old

memories and extraneous thoughts to the back of his mind. "But  as  you  said,

we've got a job to do," he said briskly, "and it's going to be a  long  climb.

Let's pack up the gear and get going."

* * *

It was, as Luke had estimated from the numbers the Qom Jha  had  gathered

for him, indeed a long climb. Nearly as long as it had been from the bottom of

the hidden stairway to that first door, in fact. And with Mara's muscles still

recovering from five days of idleness, and  Luke  himself  therefore  handling

Artoo and all the rest of their equipment, it should have been something of  a

strain.

But to his mild astonishment, it wasn't. And it didn't take any deep Jedi

insight to understand why.

The barrier he had set up between him and Mara was gone.

The odd part was that he hadn't even realized there had  been  a  barrier

there.

The communication they had together?their ability to sense  each  other's

thoughts and emotions?had been so close that he'd simply assumed that  was  as

strong as it got.

He'd been wrong. He'd been very wrong.

It was an exhilarating experience; and yet, at the same time, a  somewhat

intimidating one as well.  He'd  experienced  close-mind  contact  with  other

people on occasion, but never to the same level as he  was  experiencing  now.

Mara's thoughts and  emotions  seemed  to  flow  over  him,  their  level  and

intensity now seemingly limited only by her  personal  barriers,  as  his  own

thoughts and emotions flowed the other direction back to her. There was a  new

rapport between them, a deepening of their old relationship that he  only  now

realized how sorely he'd missed.

Confession,  apology,  and  forgiveness,  Aunt  Beru  had  been  fond  of

reminding him, were the tools friends used to break walls down  into  bridges.

Seldom if ever in his life had he had that truth so graphically demonstrated.

With concern for Mara's physical condition and stamina  foremost  in  his

mind, he made sure the party took frequent rest  breaks  as  they  climbed,  a

policy that drove Mara just slightly less crazy than it did the Qom  Jha.  But

he insisted, and as a result it took them nearly an hour to reach their target

door. But when they did, at least, Mara was fully ready to go.

"All right, here's the plan," Luke told  her,  stretching  out  with  the

Force. As near as he could tell, the entire area outside the hidden  door  was

clear. "We'll leave Artoo and the Qom Jha in here and do a little  reconnoiter

on our own."

"Sounds good." Mara pulled out her blaster and checked it, and Luke could

sense her working to control her private misgivings about going back in there.

Understandable, of course; she was the one who'd gotten  shot.  Luke  had

had something of the same trouble the first time he'd gone back to visit Cloud

City.

"How about leaving one of our comlinks here with them?"

"Good idea," Luke agreed, pulling his comlink from his belt  and  putting

it in Artoo's light-duty grasping arm. "Don't forget  and  turn  it  off,"  he

admonished the droid.

Artoo warbled indignantly, the translation scrolling across the  datapad.

"Yes, I know," Luke assured him. "I was just kidding."

"What?" Mara asked.

"He said turning off comlinks at critical moments was Threepio's  trick,"

Luke told her. "Private joke. You ready?"

He could sense her reaching out to the Force for calm. "Ready," she said.

"Let's do it."

The secret door, gratifyingly enough, opened as quietly as the other  one

had.

With Luke in the lead, they stepped out, closing the door behind them.

"Now this," Mara said quietly in his ear, "is like the Hijarna fortress."

Luke nodded acknowledgment, looking around. They were in a vast  chamber,

with short wall segments scattered around apparently  at  random  linking  the

floor with the relatively low ceiling. The  shiny  wall  coverings,  elaborate

flooring, and wall sconces they'd seen below were absent, leaving nothing  but

unadorned and unrelieved black stone. Despite that, though, the  place  seemed

oddly airy. "Doesn't look like our friends downstairs are using this area," he

said. "I wonder why."

Mara took a few steps to the side and pointed around the end  of  one  of

the wall segments. "There's your answer," she said. "Come on?let's go see."

She disappeared around the wall. Luke followed, noticing  for  the  first

time a gentle flow of air coming from that direction.

And the reason for it was quickly clear. Beyond the wall, at the far side

of the room, the black stone had been gashed open to the sky.

"Collateral damage from the battle that knocked  down  that  tower,  I'll

bet," Mara said, already crossing to the gash.

"Be careful," Luke warned her, hurrying to catch up.

"Yeah, yeah," Mara said. She reached the gash and cautiously looked  out.

"I was right," she said, pointing. "There it is. Or what's left of it."

Luke reached her side and looked out. They were looking  across  a  vast,

circular rooftop that slanted downward from their  position  at  a  reasonably

steep angle.

The stub of Mara's ruined tower was ahead of them  and  slightly  to  the

left, eighty meters or so away. The distance and dim sunlight made it hard  to

tell for sure, but to Luke's eye the jagged edge looked slightly melted.  "And

you say this stone absorbs turbolaser fire," he said.

"Like a very dry sponge," Mara agreed grimly. "Whoever  the  builders  of

this place were, they must have had some impressive enemies."

"Let's hope they were satisfied with wrecking that  one  tower  and  then

went away," Luke said, giving the rest of the  rooftop  a  quick  but  careful

examination.

Symmetrically placed on the  right  side  of  the  slanting  rooftop  was

another tower, this one undamaged, stretching a good ninety  meters  into  the

sky and topped with a ring of ominous-looking  protrusions.  Weapons  systems,

undoubtedly. At the far end of the roof, almost two hundred meters from  where

he and Mara stood, he could see twin bumps that seemed to extend outward  from

the roof and then continue down the  wall  on  that  side.  Twin  guardhouses,

possibly, flanking the main entrance. Beyond the roof, he could see  a  smooth

surface stretching through the craggy mountaintop away from the fortress  that

could only be an access road.

In the center of the fortress was  a  thirty-meter-long  structure  whose

flat-topped roof extended horizontally out from the main rooftop,  making  the

whole thing look rather like a round-cornered wedge that had been stuck on  as

an afterthought.

"There's a landing pad on top," Mara said,  pointing  to  the  structure.

"You can just make out the markings."

Luke nodded. The markings were dim, but visible enough when you  knew  to

look for them. "They probably have lights they  can  turn  on  when  something

friendly is on its way in."

"With turbolasers ready at the top of that tower in case they're  not  so

friendly." Easing through the gap in the wall, Mara took a few steps out  onto

the rooftop, peering toward the landing pad. "Looks like the  area  under  the

pad is open in front," she reported. "Probably their hangar. Might be a  handy

place to make for if we ever get caught too  far  away  from  our  exit."  She

turned back around?

And her breath caught, a surge of surprise shooting through her.  "Whoa,"

she said, her eyes tracking upward. "Come take a look at this."

Maneuvering through the crack,  Luke  crossed  to  her  side  and  turned

around.

Rising from atop the room they'd just been in was yet another tower.

And it had friends. Spaced around the curve of the  fortress  rooftop  to

the left were three more, all of the same  design.  Even  with  Luke's  skewed

perspective, he could tell that these four rear towers were both thicker and a

good twenty meters taller than the single one standing below them.

And as with the one below, each of these was also crowned by  a  ring  of

weapons emplacements.

"This must have been one impressive place in its heyday," Mara commented.

Her voice was steady, but Luke could tell that she was feeling the same  vague

uneasiness he was. "Like the one on Hijama. I wish to blazes I knew what  they

were built to protect."

"Or to defend against," Luke added,  taking  one  last  look  around  the

rooftop. No lights; no movement; no signs of life  at  all.  "Let's  get  back

inside and find the way down."

The way down was on the far side of one of the  other  wall  segments:  a

smaller version of the spiral slideway they'd used  in  the  barracks  section

down below.

Unlike that one, though, the slideway here wasn't moving. "Either damaged

or shut down for lack of use," Mara said, easing a cautious eye over the edge.

"Next level down doesn't look inhabited, either."

"This whole section is probably out of use," Luke said  as  they  started

down. "The way the roof slopes toward the broken tower,  each  of  the  levels

ought to have a little more floor space as we go down. They've probably set up

shop on the larger levels."

"Makes sense," Mara agreed. "Let's keep going until we reach a floor with

a working slideway somewhere on  it.  That  should  be  either  their  highest

working level or close to it."

The floors did indeed extend farther outward as they continued down, with

the pattern of random wall segments changing with each level. It wasn't  until

the fourth level that Luke finally caught the faint hum of working  machinery.

"I think we're here," he murmured, shifting his grip  on  his  lightsaber  and

stretching out with the Force. There still didn't seem to be anyone nearby.

"Looks like it," Mara agreed, cupping a hand around one ear. "That sounds

like one of the slideways. Shall we take a look?"

Luke nodded. "I'll go first. You stay behind me."

He headed out, moving as silently as he could  across  the  empty  space,

trying to  ignore  Mara's  annoyance  from  behind  him.  She  could  call  it

overprotectiveness if she wanted?and she undoubtedly was  calling  it  exactly

that?but after watching her do five days in a healing trance he much preferred

to err on the side of caution. He reached one of the  rare?at  least  on  this

level?wall segments and eased an eye  around  it.  Beyond  it,  set  right  up

against the far wall, was the spiral slideway they  had  heard.  "All  right,"

Luke murmured over his shoulder. "Real easy, now?"

He sensed Mara's emotional call;  but  it  wasn't  coming  from  directly

behind him.

He glanced around, feeling a flash of annoyance of his own as he  spotted

her standing at the corner of one of the other wall segments twenty meters off

to his left. She beckoned to him, a quick, impatient gesture.

And there was a sudden sense of dread in her emotions...

He made it to her side in less than ten seconds. "What is it?" he hissed.

She nodded toward the wall, a silent  churning  in  her  eyes  and  mind.

"Around there," she said.

Lightsaber ready in his hand, Luke  slid  around  the  end  of  the  wall

segment.

Beyond it was a large open space that had  been  set  up  as  a  sort  of

command center, though it was  currently  as  unoccupied  as  everywhere  else

they'd been today. Two circles of command consoles  had  been  laid  out,  the

boards and displays winking status lights toward the empty chairs in front  of

them. To one side, a larger and more elaborate chair ringed by its own  status

boards had been set up on a meter-high platform where it  could  overlook  the

entire operation.

And in the center of it all was a sight that  sent  a  shiver  of  memory

along Luke's spine: a holographic map of the galaxy, with the sectors  of  the

New Republic, the Empire, and the rest of the known regions marked  out  in  a

bewildering array of a dozen different colors.  The  whole  variegated  mosaic

stretched across perhaps a quarter of the huge  spiral,  fading  into  neutral

white where the edges of the Outer Rim Territories gave way to the vastness of

the Unknown Regions beyond.

It was a duplicate of the galactic holo Emperor Palpatine had had in  his

throne room in Mount Tantiss.

Luke swallowed,  tearing  his  eyes  away  from  the  holo  to  give  the

surrounding equipment a closer look. Yes, the consoles  were  indeed  Imperial

issue: status and computer-access boards from a Star Destroyer or other  major

capital ship.

The chairs, likewise, were straight from a Star Destroyer's  bridge  crew

pits.

And the overseer chair  and  boards  were  those  of  an  Imperial  fleet

admiral. Such as the one Grand Admiral Thrawn would have used.

He felt the whisper of air as Mara came up close  beside  him.  "I  think

we've found our link to the Imperials," he  told  her.  "It  looks  like  even

Palpatine may have had a hand in this place."

Her hair swished against his shoulder as  she  shook  her  head.  "You're

missing the point, Luke," she muttered. "Look at that holo. I mean really look

at it."

Luke frowned, focusing on the galactic spiral again. What  in  space  was

she referring to?

And then, abruptly, he caught his breath. No. No?he  was  seeing  things.

Surely he was seeing things.

But he wasn't. At the edge of the known galaxy,  where  Palpatine's  holo

had shown only the white stars of the Unknown Regions, an  entirely  new  area

had been colored in.

A huge new area.

"Funny, isn't it," Mara said, the dread still swirling through  her.  "He

was exiled from the Imperial court, you know. Just summarily thrown out."

"Who was?" Luke asked.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," she said. "Picked the wrong side in  one  of  the

political battles that were always going on there and lost. Everyone  else  in

the cabal wound up demoted or imprisoned or else reassigned to  a  semiprivate

torture chamber like garrison duty in the Outer Rim. But not Thrawn.  Oh,  no.

Even the Outer Rim was too good for this ungrateful alien who'd been  accepted

into Imperial society and paid them back for their kindness with a slap in the

face.

No, they had to come up with something very special for him."

"And that something was exile to the Unknown Regions?"

Mara nodded. "If the Outer Rim was a torture cell,  the  Unknown  Regions

was a fully populated rancor  pit,"  she  said.  "So  with  some  prodding?and

probably a lot of deal-making?they got Palpatine to  put  him  aboard  a  Star

Destroyer and send him on a one-way trip past the Outer Rim."

She snorted out a derisive laugh. "And just to add insult to injury, they

managed to make it a mapping expedition. Imagine?one of the  best  strategists

the Empire had ever known being reduced to mapping duty. Ruining his life  and

his reputation with a single stroke. I'll bet  they  were  chuckling  together

about it for years afterward."

Luke shook his head. "I seem to be missing the joke."

"So did they," Mara said, her dark mood darkening even further. "The joke

is that it apparently never occurred to any of them that Palpatine was  always

one step ahead of whatever was happening in his court. And if he  was  a  step

ahead, a strategist like Thrawn was at least two steps ahead."

Luke's mouth felt dry. "Are you saying that Thrawn and Palpatine had  the

whole thing planned out from the beginning?"

"Of course they did." Mara gestured at the holo. "Just look  at  all  the

territory he opened up. He couldn't possibly have done that by  himself,  with

just a single Star Destroyer, Palpatine must have been  feeding  him  men  and

ships all along the way."

"But that can't all be Imperial territory,"  Luke  said.  "I  mean...  it

can't."

"Why not?" Mara countered. "Oh, I agree there probably aren't more than a

few actual colonies out there. But you can bet there  are  Imperial  garrisons

scattered all over the place, plus  intel  centers  and  listening  posts  and

probably a few full-blown shipyards. And if I know Thrawn,  probably  a  whole

network of alliances with the natives, too."

"But if that's Imperial territory, why hasn't the Empire made any use  of

it?" Luke argued. "I've  seen  the  data,  Mara?they're  down  to  practically

nothing over there."

"It's obvious, isn't it?" she said quietly. "They're not using it because

they don't know it's there."

For a long minute  neither  of  them  spoke.  Luke  gazed  at  the  holo,

listening to the distant hum of the spiral slideway, the terrible implications

of those gently glowing lights tumbling over each other in his mind. There had

to be the equivalent of two hundred fifty sectors  there?nearly  thirty  times

the Empire's current size.

With thirty  times  the  Empire's  number  of  warships,  garrisons,  and

shipyards?

Very possibly. If all those resources  were  suddenly  put  at  Bastion's

disposal...

"We need more information," he said, starting toward the  console  rings.

"Let's see if there's a computer jack Artoo can plug into."

"Risky," Mara warned. "This is a  command  center,  and  command  centers

always have security flags set up to catch unauthorized access."

He stopped, grimacing. Unfortunately, she had a point. "All right, then,"

he said, turning again to face her. "What's your plan?"

"We go directly to the source." Mara took a deep breath. "I go downstairs

and talk to them."

Luke felt his mouth drop open. "And you call my plans risky?"

"You have a better suggestion?"

"That's beside the point," he growled. "Anyway, if someone's going to  go

down there, it ought to be me."

"Not a chance," Mara said firmly. "Point one: they shot at you on the way

in, but they didn't shoot at me. Point two: you  said  yourself  you  had  the

feeling they wanted to see me. Point three: if the  situation  degenerates  to

the point where a rescue is called for, you and your Jedi  skills  are  better

against a crowd than mine. And point four?"

With a tight smile, she unhooked her lightsaber and stepped over to  him.

"Point four is that they may not know the extent  of  my  Force  skills,"  she

said, handing him the weapon. "If shove comes to shake, that may give  me  the

edge I'd need."

Luke fingered her lightsaber, feeling the familiar coolness in his  hand.

His own first lightsaber, the one Obi-Wan had given him, which  he  had  given

her in turn on the palace rooftop on Coruscant. He'd been younger than she was

when he'd first taken that lightsaber into danger. Younger, less  experienced,

and far brasher. But still...

"And the last thing I need right now is for  you  to  start  getting  all

overprotective," Mara added, just the hint of a warning  glare  in  her  eyes.

"I've survived just fine all these years. I can take care of myself."

Luke locked eyes with her. Odd, he thought, that he'd forgotten just  how

brilliant a green those eyes were. Though perhaps it was  just  the  lighting.

"No way I can talk you out of it?" he asked, trying one last time.

"Not unless you can come up with a better plan," she  said,  pulling  out

her comlink and sleeve blaster. "Here?there's no point in  my  keeping  these.

They'll just take them away from me anyway. I'll keep my BlasTech;  they'd  be

suspicious if I came in completely unarmed."

Luke took the comlink and sleeve blaster from her, his hand lingering  on

hers before she withdrew it, oddly unwilling to let it go. "I wish  we  hadn't

left the other comlink with Artoo," he said. "You could have kept this one and

I'd have been able to listen in on what was going on."

"If something goes sour, you might need to whistle up the Qom  Jha  in  a

hurry," she reminded him. "Anyway, can't you follow me with the Force?"

"I can follow your presence," Luke said. "I can  get  your  emotions  and

probably some images that way. But I can't get much in the way of words."

"Too bad you're not Palpatine,"  Mara  commented,  busying  herself  with

removing her sleeve holster. "I could talk to him just fine."

Luke felt a stab of guilt and shame, her earlier indictment of  his  dark

side dabbling flooding back. She caught the emotion, or else the expression on

his face, and smiled tightly. "Hey, I was kidding," she assured  him,  handing

him the sleeve holster. "Look, you just follow what you can. I'll give  you  a

full report on the details when I get back."

"All right," Luke said. "Be careful, okay?"

To his surprise, she reached out and took his hand. "I'll be  fine,"  she

told him, squeezing his hand briefly before letting go. "See you."

And with that she was gone, slipping out of the command center and around

the wall toward the slideway.

With a sigh, Luke stepped over to the nearby wall segment and  sank  down

into a crouch with his back pressed against it. Closing his  eyes  for  better

concentration, he stretched out with the Force.

In times past, on Dagobah and Tierfon and other places, he'd been able to

use the Force to obtain glimpses of future places and  events.  Now,  as  Mara

headed down the slideway, he tried to focus that same ability  onto  real-time

observation, hoping to be able to see what was happening to her.

It worked, too, at least after a fashion. The image he got  of  Mara  and

her surroundings was faint and foggy, heavily  colored  by  her  emotions  and

shifting mental state, and with the same discomfiting tendency  to  ripple  or

metamorphose that seemed to be characteristic of Jedi visions in general.  But

with Mara's mind there to act as anchor, he  was  able  to  quickly  drag  the

images back to something at least vaguely understandable. It was hardly ideal,

but it seemed clear that it was all he was going to get.

The slideway from this level seemed to be roughly the same  size  as  the

one they had used to get down from the roof. Mara moved to the  inner  section

and headed down, apparently making no attempt at concealment. The lack of  any

sudden combat twinges in her emotions as she reached the  next  level  implied

she didn't see anyone, though he had the impression that she was still hearing

distant sounds.

She made no move to get off at this level, but let the slideway carry her

on down. The next level was more of the same, with  no  one  coming  near  the

slideway.

Luke could sense a definite  annoyance  beginning  to  seep  through  the

alertness in Mara's mind, an annoyance  aimed  both  at  the  aliens'  seeming

disinterest in her and at their incompetence at basic internal  security.  She

passed that level, and the next, and started down toward the next?

And suddenly there was a dizzying jolt that slammed like  a  ground-quake

through her emotions, accompanied by a brief flash of pain.

Luke stiffened, eyes jerking open as he scrambled to his feet.  But  even

as he did so he felt a warning flicker of reassurance from her, together  with

understanding of what had just happened. Without warning, the slideway section

she'd been riding on had suddenly reversed direction,  yanking  her  feet  out

from under her and slamming her flat on her chest on the ramp.

And as the moment of dizziness from the impact  faded  away,  her  combat

emotions flared to full alertness.

She was no longer alone.

Luke clenched his hands into helpless fists as he rode  her  emotions  to

try to pierce the hazy image. There were several people standing  around  her,

of the same species as those they'd tangled with once already.

And as near as he could tell through the wavering view, one of  them  was

calling Mara by name.

For a moment he continued to talk to her, and though Luke  couldn't  hear

any of the words he had the impression that he was  asking  her  to  accompany

them  farther  into  the  fortress.  She  agreed.  There  was  a  flicker   of

inevitability as they took her BlasTech, and then the whole group was  walking

away from the slideway down a  corridor  that  Mara  recognized  as  decorated

similarly to the barracks area they'd seen farther below.

Soon?all too soon?the group reached an open  door.  Another  exchange  of

unheard words, a suppressed flutter of uneasiness from Mara, and  she  stepped

alone through the door into the room beyond.

From her thoughts he could tell that there were others waiting inside for

her.

One of them?possibly more than one?called out to her as she moved farther

inside.

Mara answered, surges and flickers of emotion marking bits of information

that the vagueness of their contact prevented Luke from getting  himself.  She

continued to walk farther into the room?

And without warning, right in the middle of a step, the touch of her mind

cut abruptly off, leaving Luke staring at the  quiet  lights  of  the  command

center.

Heart pounding in his chest, he stretched out with the Force,  trying  to

reestablish the contact. Mara? Mara!

But it was no use. There was no response, no returning contact, no  sense

of her presence. Nothing at all.

She was gone.

CHAPTER

27

Mara took in the room in a glance as she stepped through the doorway.  It

was long and narrow, stretching perhaps fifty meters back from the door but no

more than five meters wide. Near the  far  wall  was  a  solid-looking  chair,

facing away from her. Five meters beyond that, right at the room's back  wall,

were six more of the blue-skinned aliens, all wearing the  same  tight-fitting

burgundy patchwork-design outfits as the ones who had escorted her  here  from

the slideway.

And like her escort, each of the aliens was wearing Imperial ranking bars

on their chests beneath the high-topped black collars.

But even as her glance took in those  details,  her  main  attention  was

caught by the man in the center of the group, seated in  a  duplicate  of  the

empty chair facing him a few meters away. His hair was gray,  his  skin  lined

with age; but his eyes were alert and shrewd, and his back  was  straight  and

proud.

And he was wearing the uniform and insignia of an Imperial admiral.

"So here you are at last, Mara Jade," he said, waving her forward with  a

gnarled hand. "I must say, you took your time."

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," Mara countered with an edge of  sarcasm

as she walked toward them. She could feel Luke's concern  and  nervousness  at

the back of her mind, and tried to send him a reassurance she didn't  entirely

feel. These people knew who she was and presumably what she was; and yet  here

they were, letting her move freely toward them. It all looked far too  casual,

and she didn't like it one bit. "If your people hadn't been so  trigger-poppy,

I'd have been here a lot sooner."

The admiral bowed his head briefly.  "My  apologies.  For  whatever  it's

worth, it was an accident. Please, come sit down."

Mara continued forward, trying to watch all of them at once,  her  senses

alert for trouble. If they had a trap set, it would be sprung somewhere before

she got too close to them...

And without warning, right in the  middle  of  a  step,  Luke's  presence

suddenly vanished from her mind.

Her brain froze in shock, sheer momentum keeping her feet  moving.  Luke?

Luke!

Come on, where are you?

But there was no response. No emotion, no sense of mind  or  thought,  no

sense of presence at all. Incredibly, impossibly, he was gone.

Gone.

"Come sit down," the admiral said again. "I imagine  you  must  be  quite

worn out after all you've been through."

"You're too kind," Mara said, the words sounding distant  and  mechanical

through the pounding of blood in her ears as  she  forced  her  feet  to  keep

moving her forward. What in the worlds could possibly have happened to him?

There could only be one answer. Somehow,  they'd  gotten  past  his  Jedi

senses, had penetrated his Jedi powers, and had launched a sudden, undetected,

and unblocked attack.

And Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, was unconscious.

Or dead.

The thought slashed into her mind,  cutting  through  her  heart  like  a

jagged blade.

No?it couldn't be. It couldn't. Not now.

The gray-haired man was still gazing at her, a  thoughtful  look  on  his

face, and with an agonized effort Mara shoved the fear and pain  away  to  the

back of her mind. If Luke was merely unconscious, they could still get out  of

this. If he was dead, she would most likely soon be joining him.  Either  way,

this was no time to let her emotions muddy her thinking.

She made it the rest of the way to the chair and sank carefully into  it.

"You don't need to look quite so worried," the admiral  said  soothingly.  "We

have no intention of harming you."

"Of course not," Mara said, hearing the bitterness in  her  voice.  "Just

like you had no intention of harming me on my last trip in here?"

The admiral's lip twitched. "As I said before,  that  was  a  regrettable

accident," he said. "They were shooting at the vermin flying around near  you?

we've had some problems in the past with them getting inside. When you started

shooting back, I'm afraid they jumped to  the  wrong  conclusion.  My  deepest

apologies."

"That makes me feel so much better," Mara growled. "Now what?"

The admiral seemed mildly surprised. "We talk," he said. "Why else do you

think we gave you our location in the first place? We wanted you to  come  see

us."

"Ah," Mara said. So her guess earlier had been right?those two ships  had

deliberately flown off on vectors that would lead her here.

Unless, of course, he was lying after the fact to cover  up  his  pilots'

blunders.

"You could have just sent me an invitation," she told  him,  feeling  her

forehead crease slightly as she stretched out toward him with the Force.  Odd;

for some reason, she couldn't seem to touch  him.  Not  him,  not  the  aliens

flanking him. "Or would that have been too straightforward and easy?"

The admiral smiled knowingly. "With an open invitation I doubt you  would

have come alone. Something more vague seemed a better arrangement. I apologize

for not having an escort waiting, by the way?your landing caught us a  bit  by

surprise."

"As did your arrival earlier inside the fortress," the alien standing  at

the admiral's right added, his voice smooth and cultured, his glowing red eyes

steady on Mara. "If we'd known you were coming our people would have been much

more careful with their charrics. May I ask how you managed to  penetrate  the

fortress without being spotted?"

"We turned ourselves into vermin and flew in, of course," Mara told  him.

"It was faster than walking."

"Of course," the admiral said with a smile. "Or perhaps you scaled up the

side of the fortress and came in through one of the cracks?"

Mara shook her head. "Sorry. Trade secret."

"Ah," the admiral said, still smiling. "It's not important; I was  merely

curious.

The point is that you are here, Mara, just as we wished. May I  call  you

Mara, by the way? Or would you prefer Captain Jade or some other title?"

"Call me anything you want," Mara told him. "And what should I call  you?

Or doesn't anyone in this place have a name?"

"All thinking beings have names, Mara," the man said.  "Mine  is  Admiral

Voss Parck. It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

"Likewise," Mara said, staring at him as a ripple of shock  went  through

her.

Voss Parck: the Victory Star Destroyer captain who had found Thrawn on  a

deserted world and brought him to the Imperial court. And who had subsequently

joined him in his shame and supposed exile from the Empire.

But the man in front of her...

"I imagine I look rather older than you might have expected," Parck  said

offhandedly. "Assuming you had any expectations at all, of course. I may  have

overly flattered myself to assume the Emperor's Hand would  even  remember  my

name, let alone my face."

"I remember both," Mara said. "You were one of the people  every  faction

in the court used as an example of what not to do in the middle of a political

fight." She glanced at the aliens. "But then, those were the same  people  who

also thought Palpatine sent Thrawn out here as a punishment. So what did  they

know?"

"And you think Mitth'raw'nuruodo's mission was otherwise?" the  alien  at

Parck's right asked.

"I know otherwise," Mara assured him, looking him up and down. "Tell  me,

Admiral, does the whole race  talk  like  Thrawn?  Or  is  this  some  special

cultural training you give your troops in case they're  all  invited  out  for

High Day drinks?"

The alien's eyes  narrowed?"Calm  yourself,  Stent,"  Parck  said  dryly,

holding up a hand. "You must understand that one of Mara  Jade's  most  subtle

weapons has always been her talent for  irritating  people.  Irritated  people

don't think clearly, you see."

"Or maybe I just don't like any of you very much," Mara said,  feeling  a

touch of annoyance at Parck's quick and casual insight.  Usually  her  enemies

didn't figure that one out nearly so quickly. The slower ones never figured it

out at all. "But enough about me. Let's hear about this grand  push  of  yours

out into the Unknown Regions. You gave up a lot,  after  all:  Coruscant,  the

status and camaraderie of the Imperial Fleet?"  Deliberately,  she  looked  at

Stent. "Civilization."

Stent's eyes narrowed again, but Parck merely smiled. "You've met Thrawn,

" he said, his voice softening to near-reverence. "Any true warrior would have

given up whatever was necessary for the chance to serve under him."

"Except those of his own people, I gather," Mara  countered.  "Or  did  I

hear the story wrong of how he wound up on Coruscant?"

"No, I'm sure you heard correctly," Parck said with a  shrug.  "But  like

everything else people think they know about Thrawn, that particular story  is

somewhat incomplete."

"Is it, now," Mara said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs,

a posture designed by its apparent helplessness to put  suspicious  people  at

ease.

With the same motion she surreptitiously rocked the  chair  back  a  bit,

trying to gauge its weight. Very heavy, unfortunately, which eliminated it  as

a grab-and-throw weapon. "I seem to have some time on my hands. Why don't  you

start at the beginning?"

Stent laid his hand on Parck's shoulder. "Admiral, I'm not sure?"

"It's all right, Stent," Parck calmed him, his eyes steady on  Mara.  "We

can hardly expect her help unless she has all the facts, now, can we?"

Mara frowned. "My help in what?"

"It started better than half a century ago,"  Parck  said,  ignoring  her

question.

"Back when the Outbound Flight project was preparing to fly, just  before

the Clone Wars broke out. Well before your time, of  course?I  don't  know  if

you'd even have heard of it."

"I've read about the Outbound  Flight,"  Mara  said.  "A  group  of  Jedi

Masters and others decided to head out to another  galaxy  and  see  what  was

there."

"Ultimately, their destination was indeed another galaxy." Parck  nodded.

"But before that particular expedition began, it was decided to send them  and

their ship on a, shall we say, shakedown cruise: a great circle  through  part

of the vast Unknown Regions of our own galaxy."

He waved a hand back toward Stent and the guards. "A route, as it  turned

out, that was to bring it across the  edge  of  territory  controlled  by  the

Chiss."

Chiss. So that was what they called themselves. Mara ran the name through

her memory, searching for any reference the Emperor might have made  to  them.

Nothing.

"And the Chiss didn't feel like being good hosts that day?"

"Actually, the ruling Chiss families never had the chance to  decide  one

way or the other," Parck said. "Palpatine had already decided  that  the  Jedi

represented a grave threat to the Old Republic, and had sent an assault  force

into the region to quietly take care of Outbound Flight when they showed up."

"And there they were, busily setting up their ambush, when  Thrawn  found

them."

He shook his head. "You have to understand the situation, Mara, to  truly

appreciate it. On one side were handpicked units of  Palpatine's  own  private

army, equipped with fifteen top-line combat ships.  On  the  other  side  were

Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo of the  Chiss  Expansionary  Defense  and  perhaps

twelve small and insignificant border patrol ships."

"I appreciate it just fine," Mara said, suppressing a shudder. "How badly

did Thrawn slaughter them?"

"Utterly," Parck said, the ghost of a smile creasing his face. "I believe

only a single one of Palpatine's ships remained capable of  flight,  and  that

only because Thrawn wanted some of the invaders left alive to interrogate.

"Fortunately for that remnant, and perhaps one day for the  galaxy  as  a

whole, among  the  survivors  was  the  leader  of  the  task  force,  one  of

Palpatine's advisers. A man named Kinman Doriana."

Mara swallowed. That name she most  certainly  did  remember.  He'd  been

Palpatine's right-hand man, supposedly one of the grand architects of his rise

to power. "I've heard it, yes," she said.

"I thought you would have," Parck said,  nodding.  "Very  much  a  shadow

adviser?few people ever even heard his name, let alone knew his true  position

and power. But among those who  did  it  was  sometimes  speculated  that  his

untimely death left a gap which Palpatine ultimately tried to fill with  three

other people: Darth Vader, Grand Admiral Thrawn?" He smiled again. "And you."

"You're too kind," Mara said evenly, not even a whisper of  pride  rising

within her at such a statement. So she had indeed had position  and  authority

in Palpatine's eyes, perhaps more than even she had realized.

But it didn't matter. That part of her life had died, unmourned,  a  long

time ago.

"You're very well informed, too."

"This was Thrawn's personal base," Parck said, waving a hand around  him.

"And information, as you may have noticed, was one of his few obsessions.  The

databases in the fortress core below us are possibly the most extensive in the

galaxy."

"Magnificent, I'm sure," Mara said. "Too bad all his  knowledge  couldn't

keep him from getting killed."

She had hoped to spark some kind of reaction from them. To her  surprise,

though, none of them so much as blinked.  Parck,  in  fact,  actually  smiled.

"Never assume, Mara," he warned. "But that's getting ahead of the story. Where

were we?"

"Doriana and Outbound Flight," Mara said.

"Thank you," Parck said. "At  any  rate,  Doriana  explained  the  entire

situation to  Thrawn  and  convinced  him  that  Outbound  Flight  had  to  be

destroyed. Two weeks later, when the ship arrived in Chiss space,  Thrawn  was

waiting."

"Good-bye, Outbound Flight," Mara murmured.

"Yes," Parck agreed. "But though that was the end of  that,  it  was  the

beginning of trouble for Thrawn himself. The Chiss  military  philosophy,  you

see, did not recognize the morality of preemptive  strikes.  What  Thrawn  did

was, in their minds, equivalent to murder."

Mara snorted gently. "No offense, Admiral, but it sounds to me like  it's

your perceptions that need an overhaul. How can the slaughter of  a  bunch  of

Jedi Masters minding their own business be anything but murder?"

Parck looked at her gravely. "You'll  understand,  Mara,"  he  said,  his

voice almost trembling. "In time, you'll understand."

Mara frowned. The man was either a terrific actor or there was  something

buried in all of this that had  him  well  and  truly  terrified.  Again,  she

stretched out with the Force; again, she couldn't seem to touch him at all.

With an obvious effort, Parck pulled himself together.  "But  again,  I'm

getting ahead of myself. As I said, Thrawn's action did not sit well with  the

ruling Chiss families. He was able to  talk  his  way  clear  and  retain  his

position, but from that point on they watched him very carefully.

"And eventually, as he dealt with some of the Chiss's enemies, he  pushed

things just a little too far. He was brought up on charges,  stripped  of  all

rank, and sent into exile on an uninhabited world  at  the  edge  of  Imperial

space."

"Where who should show up but  a  Victory  Star  Destroyer,"  Mara  said.

"Captained by a man  willing  to  take  the  risk  of  bringing  him  back  to

Coruscant." She raised her eyebrows. "Only it wasn't nearly as much of a  risk

as everyone thought, was it?"

Parck smiled. "It most certainly wasn't," he said. "In  fact,  I  learned

later that Palpatine had made at least  two  unsuccessful  attempts  over  the

years to contact the Chiss and offer Thrawn a  position  with  his  soon-to-be

Empire. No, he was most pleased with my gift, though because of the  political

realities of the court he had to keep that pleasure hidden."

"So Thrawn went into private military training and eventually rose to the

highest rank Palpatine could offer," Mara said. "And then, what,  arranged  to

have himself sent back here so he could make the Chiss ruling families pay for

what they'd done to him?"

Parck looked shocked. "Certainly not. The Chiss are his  people,  Mara?he

has no interest in hurting them. Quite the opposite, in  fact.  He  came  back

here to protect them."

"From what?"

Stent gave a contemptuous snort. "From what," he bit  out  harshly.  "You

soft, complacent female. You think that because you lounge around  your  quiet

worlds behind a ring of warships that the rest of the galaxy is a  safe  place

to live?

There are a hundred different threats out there that  would  freeze  your

blood if you knew about them. The ruling families can't stop them; neither can

any other power in the region. If our people are to be protected, it's  up  to

us."

"And you are? You specifically, I mean?"

Stent drew himself up  straighter.  "We  are  Syndic  Mitth'raw'nuruodo's

Household Phalanx," he said, and there was no mistaking the pride in his tone.

"We live only to serve him. And through him to serve the Chiss."

"Whether they want your help or not, I  guess,"  Mara  said,  noting  the

alien's use of the present tense. There it was again: the assumption or belief

that Thrawn wasn't dead. Could they be that out of touch? "Do they  even  know

you're out here?"

"They know the forces of the Empire are out here," Parck said. "And while

the ruling families pretend they don't know Stent and  his  unit  are  working

with us, the average Chiss does in fact know. We have a steady flow  of  young

Chiss arriving at our various bases and garrisons to enlist in our fight."

Mara suppressed a grimace. So  they  did  indeed  have  bases  out  here.

"Palpatine wouldn't have been very pleased to see aliens mixing with  Imperial

forces," she pointed out. "I  doubt  the  current  regime  on  Bastion  would,

either."

Parck's expression sobered. "Indeed," he said. "Which brings  us  to  the

problem and situation we now face. Many years ago Thrawn told us  that  if  he

was ever reported dead we should keep at our labors here and  in  the  Unknown

Regions, and to look for his return ten years afterward."

Mara blinked in disbelief. They really were out of touch. "It's going  to

be a long wait," she said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "He was  stabbed

in the chest, right through the back of his command chair. Most people have  a

hard time recovering from that kind of treatment."

"Thrawn is not most people," Stent reminded her.

"Was," Mara said. "Not is; was. He died at Bilbringi."

"Did he?" Parck asked. "Did you ever see a body? Or hear  anything  about

his supposed death that didn't come from the Imperials' own news sources?"

Mara opened her mouth... paused. Parck was leaning slightly toward her, a

glint of anticipation in his eye. "Was that a rhetorical question?" she asked.

"Or are you expecting me to have an actual answer?"

Parck smiled, leaning back in his chair again. "I told you she was quick,

" he said, looking up at Stent. "As a matter of  fact,  yes,  we  thought  you

might. You have complete access to Talon Karrde's information  network,  after

all. If anyone would know the truth, it would be you."

A sudden jolt of understanding shot through Mara.  "You  weren't  hunting

Imperial connections when you buzzed  the  Cavrilhu  base  and  Terrik's  Star

Destroyer, were you? You were hunting me."

"Very good, indeed," Parck said approvingly. "In fact, when Dreel spotted

you near that Star Destroyer he thought you and Thrawn might already have come

to an arrangement. Hence, his transmission asking Thrawn to make contact."

Mara shook her head. "Look, I know you've been out here a long time,  and

I realize it must have been hard for you. But it's time to face the hard, cold

facts. Like it or not, Thrawn is dead."

"Really," Parck said. "Then why is the HoloNet buzzing with the news that

he has returned and is making alliances?"

"And that he's been seen by many planetary and sector leaders," Stent put

in. "Including the Diamalan Senator to  Coruscant  and  former  General  Lando

Calrissian."

Mara stared at him. Lando? "No,"  she  said.  "You're  wrong.  Or  you're

bluffing."

"I assure you?" Parck broke off, his eyes shifting to a point behind Mara

as a breath of air on the back of her neck announced the door behind  her  had

opened.

She turned, tensing. But it was only a youngish middle-aged man,  walking

with a slight limp along the left-hand wall  of  the  long  room  toward  her.

Despite his age he wore the uniform of an Imperial TIE fighter pilot;  between

his graying goatee and similarly graying shock of dark hair he wore an  almost

unheard-of rarity: a black patch over his right  eye.  "Yes,  General?"  Parck

called to him.

"Mid-course transmission from Sorn, Admiral," the man said, his  one  eye

trained unblinkingly on Mara as he strode past  her.  "His  pass  through  the

Bastion system was inconclusive. Lots of rumors and speculations, but no  hard

evidence." He paused. "But the rumors do say Thrawn is currently there."

"Wait a minute," Mara put in, frowning. "You know where Bastion is?"

"Oh, yes," Parck assured  her.  "Thrawn  anticipated  that  the  seat  of

government might periodically change, and he wanted us to know where it was at

any given time. So he had a special homing device installed in a dummy file in

the central Imperial Records Library, reasoning that where the government went

the library would soon follow."

"It's a device of Chiss design," Stent added with clear  pride.  "Totally

dormant except when in hyperspace, a time when virtually no one thinks  to  do

scans for such things. We've followed Bastion's movement from system to system

with a great deal of interest."

"Indeed." Parck looked at the pilot again. "Is Sorn on his way back?"

"He'll be here in about three hours." The pilot nodded at Mara. "Has  she

given you anything useful?"

"Not really," Parck said, looking at Mara as he gestured to the newcomer.

"But I'm forgetting my manners. Mara Jade; this is  General  Baron"?he  paused

dramatically?"Soontir Fel."

Mara kept her face expressionless. Baron Soontir Fel.  Once  a  legendary

TIE fighter pilot, later turning his back on the Empire to become a member  of

Rogue Squadron, he had  vanished  years  ago  into  a  trap  set  by  Imperial

Intelligence Director Isard  and  never  been  heard  of  again.  The  general

assumption had been that Isard had had him summarily executed for treason.

Yet here he was, apparently once again flying with Imperial forces. And a

general, yet. "General Fel," she nodded acknowledgment. "Do I take it from the

admiral's tone that I'm supposed to be impressed?"

The young Fel, she suspected, would have taken instant offense  at  that.

But this older version merely favored her with a faint smile. "There's no time

for pride out here, Jade," he said gravely. "Once  you've  joined  us,  you'll

understand."

"I'm sure," Mara said, folding her arms across her  chest  and  squeezing

her hands tightly into fists with the effort as she stretched out with all her

strength.

The Force was there?she could feel it flowing through her. Yet  for  some

reason she still couldn't touch any of them, human or  Chiss.  It  was  almost

like the Force-suppressing effect of  those  sessile  Myrkr  creatures  called

ysalamiri. But that couldn't be it, because she could  still  feel  the  Force

perfectly well.

Besides, there weren't any of the creatures in the room with them?

She swallowed a sudden grimace, feeling like a fool  as  she  focused  on

Parck and the Chiss standing with their backs to the  wall.  Of  course  there

weren't any ysalamiri in the room?they were one room over, pressed up  against

the other side of the wall where they could protect her interrogators from her

mind probes.

They'd probably put the creatures along the sides, too; probably why  Fel

had been so careful to hug the wall on his way across  the  room.  Maybe  even

scattered some above the ceiling?

She took a deep breath, a huge part of the tension in her chest  abruptly

easing.

Of course there were ysalamiri in the ceiling. That was how and  why  her

link to Luke had been so abruptly cut off.

Which meant he was still alive.

She took another breath, suddenly aware that  Parck  and  Fel  were  both

staring at her. "Such a gracious invitation," she said, trying to pick  up  on

the threads of conversation before her silence became too blatant.  "Sorry  to

disappoint you, but I already have a job."

But too late. "I see she's figured it out," Fel said conversationally.

"Yes," Parck said. "I'm rather surprised it took her this long, actually.

Particularly since she noticed the ysalamiri effect as soon as  she  came

within the effect of their shroud. I could see the break in her step."

"At least it proves she has Jedi abilities," Fel said. "Just as  well  we

were prepared."

"I congratulate you all on your  cleverness,"  Mara  said,  putting  some

scorn into her voice. "You are indeed the true heirs to  Thrawn's  genius  and

military might.

Let's stop dancing around, shall we? What exactly do you want from me?"

"As General Fel has already said," Parck said. "We want you to join us."

Mara felt her eyes narrow. "You are joking."

"Not at all," Parck said. "In fact?"

"Admiral?" Stent interrupted, his head tilted slightly to one side as  if

listening to something. "Someone's just tried to access the Upper Command Room

computer."

"Skywalker," Fel said with a nod. "Nice of him to save us the trouble  of

tracking him down. Have the Phalanx bring him here, Stent.  Remind  them  that

only those carrying ysalamiri are to approach him."

"Yes, sir." Stent stepped past Fel and headed along the wall  at  a  fast

walk, speaking rapidly in his own language as he headed for the  door.  As  he

passed Mara, she caught a glimpse of a  small  device  in  his  ear?the  Chiss

version of a comlink, no doubt.

"He'll be joining us in a few minutes," Fel said, looking back  at  Mara.

"You must rank very highly indeed in Coruscant's eyes for them  to  send  Luke

Skywalker himself to rescue you. I hope he won't resist to the  point  of  the

Chiss having to hurt him."

"I hope for the Chiss' sake they haven't bitten off more  than  they  can

swallow," Mara countered, trying to sound more confident than she  felt.  Luke

had had to function under the handicap of ysalamiri before, but that had  been

a long time ago. "Speaking of getting hurt, General,  what  happened  to  your

face? Or is that patch just something you wear to impress the natives?"

"I lost my eye in our final battle  against  one  of  the  many  would-be

warlords out here," Fel said, his voice calm but with  an  edge  to  it.  "Our

medical replacement facilities are limited, and I opted to forgo a new eye  in

favor of others of my pilots who might need the operation." He smiled tightly,

a glimpse of the younger, brasher Fel showing through the  age  and  maturity.

"Besides, even with one eye I'm still the best pilot around."

"I'm sure," Mara agreed. "But imagine what you'd be like with two of them

again.

And the way the war with the New Republic has dwindled down to  basically

nothing,  I  imagine  the  Empire's  got  a  pretty  good  surplus  of   spare

prosthetics. All it would take is you showing up and asking for one."

She looked back at Parck. "But of course, that would mean letting Bastion

in on the big secret, which is apparently something you don't want to do.  Why

not?"

Parck sighed. "Because everything  we've  done  here?everything  we  have

here?really belongs to Thrawn. And at this point, we frankly don't know  which

side of your conflict he's going to come down on."

Mara blinked. "Excuse me? An Imperial Grand Admiral, and you  don't  know

which side he's going to take?"

"The Empire has been whittled down to eight sectors," Fel  reminded  her.

"Militarily, they're no longer a power even worth considering."

"And as you've already pointed out, they still have a  lingering  problem

with anti-alien biases," Parck  added.  "On  the  other  hand,  Coruscant  has

serious problems of its own, most notably its inability to  keep  its  members

from fighting with each other."

"Which is where you come in," Fel said. "As the Emperor's Hand, you  knew

a great deal about the Empire and those in power there. On the other hand,  as

a friend of Skywalker and his associates, you're also well acquainted with the

New Republic regime on Coruscant."

He smiled tightly. "And of course, as Talon  Karrde's  second-in-command,

you know a great deal about everything else. You'd be invaluable in helping us

end the conflict, unify this region, and begin preparations for the challenges

ahead."

"Your expertise and knowledge are very important to us," Parck said. "Our

attention has been necessarily turned outward,  with  the  result  that  we're

somewhat out of touch with matters in this part of space. We need someone  who

can fill that gap."

"And so naturally you thought of me," Mara said sardonically.

"Don't be so flippant," Fel admonished.

"I'm not being flippant;  I'm  being  disbelieving,"  she  countered.  "I

hardly think Thrawn would have approved of you hiring me as your local affairs

adviser."

"On the contrary," Parck said. "Thrawn regarded you quite highly. I  know

for a fact that he intended to offer you a position with us  once  the  Empire

had regained its territory."

One of the Chiss beside Parck stirred, tilting his head as Stent had done

earlier. "Admiral?" he said  softly,  squatting  down  beside  the  chair  and

whispering something into Parck's ear. Parck replied, and for  a  minute  they

held an inaudible conversation. Mara ran her eye over Fel and the five  Chiss,

mentally mapping out how she might be able to take them down if it came  to  a

fight.

But the attempt was little more than a mental exercise, and she knew  it.

With their eyes steady on her, and their  hands  resting  on  their  holstered

weapons, there was no chance she could take out all of them  before  they  got

her. Not without the Force.

The conversation ended, and the Chiss stood back up  and  strode  rapidly

away along the wall. "Please excuse the interruption," Parck apologized as the

alien left the room.

"No problem," Mara said. Down to four Chiss  now,  plus  Fel  and  Parck.

Still rotten odds. "Having trouble pinning Skywalker down?"

"Not really," Parck assured her.

"Glad to hear it," Mara said, wishing more than ever that she could  pick

up something of his thoughts. That exit hadn't looked like  the  departure  of

someone who wasn't really having trouble. If she only had some idea what  Luke

was up to...

"So Thrawn intended to offer me a commission, did he?"

"He did indeed," Parck said. "He knew who all the best people were,  both

in overall skills and the kind of mental toughness  he  needed."  He  gestured

toward Fel. "General Fel is a good example. His rebellion against Isard was of

no consequence to Thrawn. What mattered was his feelings for  the  people  and

worlds of this region. So after Thrawn had Isard capture him?"

"Wait a minute," Mara interrupted. "Thrawn was involved with that?"

"It was entirely his plan," Fel said. "You don't think Isard  could  have

come up with anything that clever, do you?" His mouth tightened, his remaining

eye gazing away thoughtfully into the distance. "He brought me out  here,"  he

said quietly. "Showed me what it was we faced, and what we'd  have  to  do  to

stop it.

Showed me that even with all the resources of the Empire and New Republic

combined, and with himself at the head, there were no guarantees of victory."

"On the contrary, he's already made contingency plans for defeat,"  Parck

added soberly. "Ten years ago he had sleeper groups of the best of his  cloned

warriors scattered around the Empire and  New  Republic,  ready  to  form  the

nuclei of local resistance forces should Bastion and Coruscant fall.  Men  who

loved their homes and their land and their worlds, and who  would  give  their

lives in their defense."

"Yes," Fel said. "Once I understood?once I  really  understood?I  had  no

choice but to join him."

"As you will, too," Parck said.

Mara shook her head. "Sorry. I have other plans."

"We'll see," Parck said calmly. "Perhaps Thrawn will be able to  convince

you himself when he returns."

"And what if he doesn't return?" Mara asked. "What if the rumors are just

that: rumors?"

"Oh, he'll return," Parck said. "He said he would, and he always kept his

promises. The only question  is  whether  or  not  this  particular  rumor  is

actually him."

He looked up at Fel. "And under the circumstances, I suppose the only way

we're going to find out for sure will be for me to  finally  make  a  trip  to

Bastion. If Thrawn has indeed set up a headquarters there, that should  answer

the question of which side he'll be working from."

Mara felt her hands tighten into  fists.  "You  don't  know  what  you're

saying," she said. "You can't just turn all of this over to  the  Empire.  All

these resources, bases, alliances?"

"They won't misuse them," Parck said, his voice grim. "We'll make sure of

that.

The task ahead of us is far too serious  for  anyone  to  waste  time  on

anything as petty as politics or personal gain."

"If you think that, you are out of touch," Mara snapped. "Try to remember

back to Palpatine's court, and what the taste of power did  to  those  people.

Personal gain is all some of them ever think of."

"It's a risk we'll have to take," Parck said firmly. "We'll  be  careful,

certainly?we'll speak with Sorn when he gets back and sift through the data he

collected from his  pass  through  the  Bastion  system.  But  unless  there's

something that positively quashes the rumors of Thrawn's return, it's time  to

make that contact."

Mara took a deep breath. "I can't let you do that," she said.

"You can't let us do it?" Fel asked pointedly.

"No," Mara said. "I can't. You give this to Bastion, and the first  thing

they'll do is turn it straight against Coruscant."

"Don't worry," Parck said. "We won't give anything away until we're  sure

Thrawn is with them."

"On the other hand, we may do well to  worry  about  her,  Admiral,"  Fel

pointed out, eyeing her thoughtfully. "Someone as vehemently opposed as she is

to our contacting Bastion could be trouble."

"I suppose you're right," Parck said reluctantly. He levered himself  out

of his chair, one of the Chiss  stepping  to  his  side  and  offering  him  a

supporting arm as he stood up. "I'm afraid, Mara, that you and Skywalker  will

have to be our guests for a while."

"And if Thrawn is back,  and  I  still  don't  want  to  join  up?"  Mara

demanded. "What then?"

Parck's lips compressed briefly. "I'm sure it won't  come  to  that,"  he

assured her. But his eyes didn't quite meet hers as he spoke. "We'll  have  it

all sorted out within a few days. Certainly no more than a month at the most."

Mara snorted. "You aren't  serious.  You  really  think  a  couple  dozen

ysalamiri are going to hold Luke Skywalker and me that long?"

"She's right, Admiral," Fel agreed. "It's going to take more to keep  the

two of them quiet."

Parck studied Mara's face. "What do you suggest?"

Fel gestured to one of the Chiss. "Brosh, your  charric.  Set  for  level

two."

"Wait a second," Mara said hastily, jumping to her feet as the Chiss drew

his hand weapon. A brief flood of emotion surged through her?Stall, the urgent

thought leaped into her mind?"Wait just a Hoth-frost second.  I'm  an  unarmed

prisoner."

The other Chiss were drawing their weapons now, too. "I know," Fel  said.

He sounded genuinely regretful, for whatever that was worth. "And  I'm  deeply

sorry about having to do this. But I've had some experience with Jedi, and the

only way I can think of to keep you a proper prisoner for a  few  days  is  to

force you to go into a healing trance." He looked over at Brosh?

"Wait a minute," Mara said. Stall, stall, stall. "You said you wanted  to

make a deal with me, right? Well, I can tell you flat  out  that  shooting  me

will definitely not get any such negotiations off on the right foot. In  fact,

I'd go so far as to say that it might put me off working for you entirely."

"It won't," Fel assured her darkly. "Not when you know the full extent of

the threats facing us."

"Maybe it will, and maybe it won't," Mara countered.  "And  don't  forget

Karrde, either. If you really want information, he's the one you're  going  to

have to deal with. And Karrde  does  not  take  kindly  to  anyone  who  takes

potshots at his people. I've seen him take whole organizations apart for  that

sort of crime. In fact, there was one particular Hutt group?"

"Yes, I'm sure,"  Parck  interrupted,  frowning.  "Really,  Mara,  you're

making far more out of this than you need  to.  Charric  burns  are  certainly

serious, but that's hardly even a consideration  for  someone  with  the  Jedi

skills of pain suppression and healing. And General Fel is right: we  do  need

to keep you quiet for a while."

"Yes, I understand that," Mara said. "And it's a brilliant idea?really it

is.

There's just one small problem: I don't know how to do  either  the  pain

suppression or healing tricks."

"Come now," Parck said reproachfully, gesturing  toward  the  black-edged

hole in her jumpsuit. "Your shoulder indicates otherwise."

"Skywalker put me into the trance," Mara said, consciously  relaxing  her

muscles in anticipation. "And he's not here. I could die of shock, or bleed to

death?"

"You'll do neither,"  Fel  assured  her.  "I  know  both  the  power  and

limitations of Chiss weaponry. Think of it as an added incentive for Skywalker

to surrender to us."

He caught Brosh's eye and nodded. The Chiss nodded back  and  lifted  his

weapon?

And from it came a brilliant green flash.

CHAPTER

28

Without warning, right in the middle of a step, Mara vanished. Mara? Luke

thought desperately toward her, stretching out to the Force. Mara!

But there was no response. Somehow, they must have gotten past her danger

sense and combat skills and had launched a sudden and overwhelming attack.

And she was unconscious. Or dead.

"No," he whispered aloud, his pulse pounding in his ears. Once  again,  a

person he'd cared for...

"No!" he bit out between clenched teeth, the agony in his heart  swirling

into something dark and deadly as the pain turned into a  growing  fury.  Deal

out casual death, would they? If death was what they  wanted,  he  would  show

them just what death looked like. In his mind's eye he  saw  himself  striding

down the spiral slideway, throwing the aliens aside  like  sand  dolls,  their

bodies slamming against the unyielding black stone and  dropping  crumpled  to

the floor.

His lightsaber would flash through their ranks, cutting  through  weapons

and bodies and leaving more death in its wake?

His lightsaber.

He looked down at the lightsaber in his hand. Not the weapon  he  himself

had made in the oppressive heat of the Tatooine desert, but the one his father

had made so many years before. The weapon he had given to Mara...

He took a deep breath, letting go of the rage and hatred, a  cold  shiver

running through him as he realized the magnitude of what he had  almost  done.

Once again, he had come to the very brink of giving in to the dark  side.  Had

nearly surrendered to hatred and the lust for revenge,  and  the  overwhelming

desire to use his power for his own selfish ends.

If you honor what they fight for... Master Yoda's words echoed hauntingly

through his mind. "All right," he murmured aloud.  No,  he  would  not  avenge

whatever had happened to Mara, at least not for vengeance's sake. But he would

seek out the truth of her fate.

With an effort, he cleared the last lingering emotion from his  thoughts,

Mara's picture of songbirds singing inside an ore-crushing facility flickering

once through his mind as he did so. Stretching out with the Force, he  focused

his mental probe toward the spot where Mara's presence  had  vanished.  Unless

they had already taken it away, he should at least be able to sense her body..

.

But there was nothing. Not  Mara,  not  the  humans  or  aliens  she  had

supposedly been moving toward when she disappeared.

In fact, within a certain area, he could detect nothing at all. Almost as

if something was blocking his access to the Force...

Abruptly, his breath went out of  him  in  a  rush,  relief  and  chagrin

flooding into  him  in  equal  quantities.  Of  course?the  aliens  had  moved

ysalamiri into the space between him  and  Mara.  Even  given  the  four-floor

distance  between  them,  he  should  have  immediately  recognized  what  was

happening. Once again, it seemed, he was  having  to  relearn  Yoda's  warning

against acting while in the grip of strong emotion.

But there was  no  time  for  self-recrimination.  Within  the  ysalamiri

effect, Mara's fledgling Jedi powers were useless; and it was up to him to get

her out.

He pulled out his comlink and thumbed it on. "Artoo?" he  called  softly.

"I need you down here?take the nonmoving spiral slideway behind  the  wall  to

the right of the hidden exit doorway and come down four  floors.  Splitter  Of

Stones, leave someone behind in the stairway to seal the door, and the rest of

you come with Artoo. Got that?"

There was a twitter from the droid and a chirp from  the  Qom  Jha.  Luke

returned the comlink to his belt and walked slowly across the floor toward one

of the level's back corners, stretching out beneath him with the Force  as  he

moved. He could sense beings on the next level down, but none of  them  seemed

to be in this particular area.

That could be misleading, given that he still didn't have a clear reading

on this species. But he would have to risk it. Igniting Mara's lightsaber, the

feel of the weapon bringing back a flood of old memories, he gripped  it  with

both hands and dug the blue-white blade into the floor.

His big fear had been that like the cortosis ore in the cave  below,  the

strange black stone would resist the lightsaber in some  way.  But  though  it

felt rather like dragging a tree branch upstream  through  a  rapidly  flowing

river, the blade sliced through the stone without trouble. Walking in a  tight

circle, beveling the edge inward so that the plug wouldn't fall through to the

floor below, he carved out a round hole a little wider than Artoo.

Finishing his cut, he confirmed one final time that no one seemed  to  be

below him. Then, stretching out to the Force, he lifted the stone plug out.

It was heavy?far heavier than anything of  such  a  small  size  had  any

business being. Maneuvering it off to the side, he set it down with  its  edge

just overlapping the hole, then dropped flat to the floor and peered carefully

down.

The area did indeed appear to be deserted. Getting a grip on the rim,  he

eased himself in to  hang  full-length  through  the  hole.  Bracing  himself,

drawing on the Force to strengthen his muscles, he let go.

The floor was about four meters down, a trivial fall for a Jedi.  He  let

his legs collapse as he hit, absorbing the impact  and  dropping  him  into  a

hopefully unobtrusive heap as he stretched out his senses for  any  sign  he'd

been seen or heard. But there was nothing. Getting carefully to his  feet,  he

looked around again?

Master Walker Of Sky?

Luke looked up. Keeper Of Promises was in the  room  above  him,  peering

down through the hole in the floor. "Keep  quiet,"  he  warned  the  Qom  Jha.

"Where are the rest of your people?"

They are coming in a flanking curve, Keeper Of Promises said. Some  guard

your machine?it is the slowest.

"Let me know when he gets there," Luke told him, stretching out with  the

Force.

There were, he could tell, more of the aliens on the next level down, but

again they didn't seem to be too close to him. Igniting the lightsaber  again,

he began cutting a new hole directly beneath the first one.

He'd finished the hole and had dropped to the  next  floor  down  when  a

quiet whistle from  above  signaled  Artoo's  arrival.  "Great,"  Luke  called

softly, looking up at the blue-and-silver dome peering cautiously over the lip

two floors up as he pulled out his comlink and thumbed it on.

The droid backed out  of  sight,  and  there  was  another  acknowledging

whistle from the comlink. "All right," Luke said, glancing around.  He'd  come

down into a deserted room this time, but through the open door  he  could  see

glimpses of moving shadows. "You see the control boards over there? I want you

to go find a computer jack you can access and plug into it. Try to get a floor

plan of the fortress if you can; if you can't, just look around and  see  what

else you can find. When I signal you again, unplug and get back  over  to  the

hole as fast as you can. Got all that?"

There was a slightly nervous-sounding twitter, and the comlink went dead.

Gripping Mara's lightsaber, trying to get a feel for all the minds around

and below him, Luke waited.

When it happened, it happened all at once. Suddenly, virtually in unison,

all the alien minds changed, their various tones and concerns and textures all

shifting to focus in the same direction.  Not  with  fear,  concern,  or  even

surprise, but with the calm, deadly purpose of professional soldiers.

Artoo had tripped the flags Mara had warned him about, and  the  fortress

was mobilizing for action.

Luke crouched a little closer to the floor, acutely aware that everything

now hinged on what exactly that action would consist of.  If  all  the  aliens

merely settled in where they were and braced for  possible  attack,  he  would

have no choice but to fight his way through them to get to Mara. If,  however,

they instead concentrated on the  slideway  ramps  and  the  floor  where  the

attempted break-in was occurring...

And they did. Even as Luke held his breath, he  could  sense  the  aliens

below moving purposefully toward the slideway Mara had taken  earlier.  If  he

was careful?and quick?the path to her might just be open.

Especially if he was quick. Igniting  the  lightsaber,  he  set  to  work

carving yet another hole in the black stone.

He had finished the opening and dropped through to the  next  level  down

when his probing senses picked up the cue he'd been waiting  for:  the  subtle

change in the alien minds as the assembled assault teams  readied  themselves.

"Now, Artoo," he called softly into the comlink. "Send the Qom Jha to me  down

the hole, and get over there yourself."

The droid acknowledged, and Luke stepped beneath the hole  to  wait.  The

Qom Jha weren't wasting any time; already  they  were  dropping  through  like

leaves blown from a tree, folding their wings tightly as they  passed  through

each successive hole, opening them up between  floors  to  regain  control  of

their flight. Through the flurry of falling Qom Jha he  spotted  Artoo's  dome

lean cautiously over the edge, and caught an echo of the surprised and nervous

twitter as the droid saw how much farther down Luke was now than the last time

he'd looked.

A twitter that turned into an electronic gasp as Luke  reached  out  with

the Force to pick him up and drop him wheels-first through the hole.

Luke winced at the noise; but fortunately Artoo quickly realized what was

happening and quieted down before the sound of a descending electronic  scream

could give the whole thing away. Luke got the droid safely to the floor beside

him, then stretched out again to the edge of the stone plug he'd  left  poking

over the side of the first hole above. At this distance it felt even  heavier;

but with alien warriors presumably even now fanning  out  toward  the  command

center, he had great motivation for speed. Three seconds later, the  plug  was

securely back in place.

Fifteen seconds after that, working his way down, he had all the rest  of

the holes sealed as well. "Mara's one more level down," he told Artoo and  the

huddled group of Qom Jha, stretching out with the Force. All the aliens  below

were gone, and there hadn't been any changes in the overall mental state  that

would indicate they'd tumbled to his trick.

Though  oddly  enough,  he  could  no  longer  sense  the  assault  teams

themselves.

Equipped with ysalamiri, perhaps?

Probably. But for the moment, those groups were too  far  away  to  worry

him. "Stay close to me," he said, igniting the  lightsaber  and  starting  his

final cut. "We'll try to keep this as quiet as we can, for as long as we can."

But if they discover us? Child Of Winds asked anxiously.

Luke frowned at him in mild surprise. He hadn't realized that  the  young

Qom Qae had come in  with  the  Qom  Jha.  In  fact,  he'd  intended  to  give

instructions that the child stay behind with whoever had sealed up the  hidden

door. Clearly, it had slipped his mind; just as clearly, it was too late to do

anything about it now. "If the alarm goes up, you're to split  up  and  create

confusion," Luke told the aliens. "Draw them as far away from me as  you  can,

then find your own ways out of the fortress and head back home."

We will obey, Splitter Of Stones said, fluttering his wings.

"And try not to get hurt," Luke added, finishing the cut and lifting  the

stone disk out of the hole. "Child Of Winds, you stay with Artoo and me."

He leaned down for a quick visual scan of  the  empty  room  below.  "All

right," he said, slipping his feet into the opening and  bracing  himself  for

another drop. "Let's go."

From the hazy look he'd had of this floor before his  contact  with  Mara

had been cut off, it had seemed fairly well structured, with  rooms  and  wide

corridors instead of the random wall segments they'd encountered upstairs. Not

exactly an ideal arrangement for quiet skulking.

But for the first few minutes  it  seemed  to  work.  Luke  led  the  way

cautiously toward the  blank  spot  that  marked  the  cluster  of  ysalamiri,

splitting his attention between the area around him and  the  various  warrior

groups assembled near the slideways. Only half a dozen of the aliens  wandered

near enough to pose potential problems, and he was able to get his party  past

them unseen using Force-created noises and other distractions. The warriors on

the command center level were clearly the methodical types, and as Luke neared

the ysalamiri he began to think he might actually be able to burst in on  Mara

and her captors unannounced.

Han might have been that lucky. Luke, unfortunately, was  not.  They  had

nearly reached their goal when the illusion abruptly crumbled.

"They're on to us," he murmured.

Do they know where we are? Flier Through Spikes asked.

"I don't know," Luke said, stretching out to  the  Force  and  trying  to

decipher the sudden turmoil in the emotions of the aliens  around  him.  There

was no way to tell whether the assault team had discovered the hole he had cut

or had simply found the level deserted and come to the logical conclusion.

What he could tell was that whatever it was they  had  discovered,  their

consternation had spread rapidly to the rest of the group. Clearly, they had a

superb communications system in here.

Which meant that Mara's captors almost certainly also knew he  was  loose

in the fortress.

Which meant he was out of time.

"I'm going in," he told the Qom Jha tightly, easing an eye around the end

of the corridor. Just to the right, on the far side of a  cross  corridor,  he

could see an unmarked door. At the far end of that room, as near as  he  could

tell, were the ysalamiri. "Artoo, Child Of Winds?come with  me.  The  rest  of

you, scatter."

We obey, Walker Of Sky, Builder With Stones said;  and  with  a  multiple

flutter of wings they were off.

"Stay behind me," Luke warned the droid and Qom Qae;  and  with  a  quick

glance down the corridor he launched himself  at  the  door,  igniting  Mara's

lightsaber as he ran. He grabbed the release lever, twisting  it  and  pushing

the door open in a single motion, and leaped inside.

Only to find that he had miscalculated. The room he was in was  long  and

dimly lit, with most of the left half filled with stacks  of  crates,  and  no

sign of Mara.

But a second glance  showed  he  hadn't  miscalculated  as  badly  as  he

thought. Laid out side by side, a group of ysalamiri on  nutrient  frames  had

been leaned against the back wall.

Artoo warbled questioningly. "She's in the next room over,"  Luke  called

over his shoulder as he raced toward the row  of  frames,  a  plan  of  action

starting to take shape in his mind. Unless her interrogators  were  themselves

Force-sensitive, they would have no  way  of  knowing  whether  or  not  their

protective barrier was still  in  place.  If  he  could  move  enough  of  the

ysalamiri out of the way to give Mara access to the Force again,  the  two  of

them together should be able to turn the tables on her captors and get her out

of there. Skidding to a halt in front of one of the frames in  the  middle  of

the wall, feeling the sudden disconcerting silence in his mind as  he  stepped

inside the meter-wide range of the creatures' effect, he  set  the  lightsaber

down on the floor and lifted up the frame.

Fortunately, given that there was no way for him to enhance his  muscular

strength this close to an ysalamir, the frame wasn't very heavy. He carried it

a few steps away from the wall and propped it up against the nearest crate.

Stepping back to the next one in line, he picked it up and crossed toward

the first?

With his Jedi senses blinded by  the  ysalamiri  effect,  Artoo's  sudden

squawk was his only warning. He looked up,  dropping  the  frame  and  leaping

backward, his hand instinctively stretching back toward the lightsaber on  the

floor. One of the blue-skinned aliens was crouching in a marksman's stance  in

the open doorway, another of the nutrient frames strapped  to  his  back,  his

weapon up and tracking.

Luke took another step backward, the Force suddenly  flooding  in  around

him again as he moved out of the ysalamir's range. He felt the power  tingling

through his hand as he again called the lightsaber to him,  wondering  why  it

wasn't already in his hand?

And with a burst of understanding it belatedly hit him.  He  himself  was

clear of the ysalamiri effect, but the lightsaber wasn't.

The alien's weapon was lined up on him now. "Do not move," he ordered  in

accented Basic, his tone making it clear he was serious. Artoo started to roll

cautiously toward him; the glowing  red  eyes  flicked  warningly  toward  the

droid?

And with a screech that was half challenge and half pure terror, Child Of

Winds dropped from the ceiling to land in full-taloned grip on the alien's gun

arm.

The weapon fired, a brilliant blue flash that  went  wide,  slicing  past

Luke into one of the nutrient frames along the wall. Luke  dived  backward  in

the opposite direction toward the cover of the stacked  crates,  grabbing  for

his own lightsaber still hanging from his  belt  and  yanking  it  clear.  His

momentum slammed him into one of the other frames, sending it crashing to  the

floor.

And for one brief second, as he caromed off the wall and back toward  the

crates, he could feel Mara's presence again.

The touch didn't last long, perhaps half a second before he bounced  back

into range of the two ysalamiri he had set down beside the crates. But it  was

long enough. He could sense that she was all right,  felt  her  own  flash  of

relief that he was similarly unharmed, caught a sense  of  humans  and  aliens

lined up along the wall in front of her. He had time for  a  single  emotional

instruction?Stall!?before the contact was cut off again. Digging his feet into

the floor, he ignited his lightsaber and charged past the frames, wondering if

he would make it through to the other side of the bubble before the alien  got

his aim back.

It was a close thing, and for a painful heartbeat  he  thought  Child  Of

Winds's act of bravery was going to cost the Qom  Qae  his  life.  Instead  of

trying to wrench his winged assailant off his right arm, the alien had  merely

slammed his left hand into Child Of Winds's throat in an attempt to stun  him,

then transferred his gun to that hand. For an instant  his  first  inclination

seemed to be to use the weapon to kill the sharp-taloned nuisance clinging  to

him; but as he caught sight of Luke charging toward him with drawn lightsaber,

he shifted his aim to the more threatening target and fired.

But he was too late. Luke was past the last of  the  ysalamiri  now,  and

with access to the Force  again  there  was  no  way  a  single  gunman  could

penetrate his defenses. He sprinted forward,  anticipating  and  sweeping  his

lightsaber across each of the alien's shots with practiced ease. Still firing,

the alien dodged to the right, crossing behind Artoo. Luke switched  direction

to match his movement, wondering if the alien was planning to  duck  down  and

use the droid as a shield.

If so, he never got the chance. From midway down Artoo's  body  came  the

flash of an arc current?

And with an abrupt jolt of twitching leg muscles, the alien stumbled  off

balance and fell heavily sideways to the floor, taking  Child  Of  Winds  down

with him.

Luke leaped over Artoo, landing with one foot on the gun and feeling  the

sudden blindness again as he came within range of the ysalamir  backpack.  The

alien's glowing red eyes gazed up with an unreadable expression as Luke raised

his lightsaber high and brought it sweeping down. Seeing his own death  arcing

down toward him?

And then, midway through his slash,  Luke  closed  down  the  blade,  and

instead of decapitating the alien merely slammed the heavy metal of the handle

across the back of his head. Without a  sound,  he  collapsed  limply  to  the

floor, unconscious.

"You all right?" Luke asked Child  Of  Winds,  helping  pry  the  other's

clenched feet off the gunman's arm. The points where the Qom Qae's  claws  had

been, he noticed, were oozing with slowly growing spots of red.

I am unhurt, Child Of Winds said shakily. Why did you protect his life?

"Because there was no need to kill him," Luke  answered,  looking  up  at

Artoo. The droid seemed a  little  shaky,  too,  but  game  as  always  as  he

retracted his arc welder back into its compartment. "Thanks  for  the  assist?

both of you. Come on, Mara needs us."

Running back to the wall, he  began  grabbing  the  nutrient  frames  and

hurling them away behind him, all thoughts  of  subtlety  replaced  now  by  a

desperate need for speed. That  quick  kaleidoscopic  glimpse  he'd  had  into

Mara's mind had included the threat of drawn weapons. He threw  three  of  the

nutrient frames aside, risked taking the time to get rid of the  one  next  to

where Mara's lightsaber still lay on the floor,  then  stepped  close  to  the

wall.

And realized with a surge of fear that he had cut it a little too close.

Filtered through the emotional haze and clipped tactical thinking roiling

together in Mara's mind, he could sense an indistinct, wavering image  of  the

four aliens with their weapons pointed at her. Touching his  forehead  to  the

wall, he ran through his sensory enhancements...

"Skywalker put me into the trance," he heard her  voice  faintly  through

the thick stone. "And he's not here. I could die of shock, or bleed to death?"

"You'll do neither," another voice said.  "I  know  both  the  power  and

limitations of Chiss weaponry. Think of it as an added incentive for Skywalker

to surrender to us."

Luke  didn't  wait  any  longer.  Straightening  up,  he  drew  back  his

lightsaber, stretching out to the Force as he pointed the tip of  the  glowing

green blade at the wall, agonizingly aware that he would have only one shot at

this. But if the Force could guide him with the pinpoint  precision  necessary

to block blaster bolts...

And then, with a clarity that was startling  in  its  unexpectedness,  an

image sprang into his mind: an alien  standing  with  his  back  toward  Luke,

almost in front of him, raising a weapon toward Mara. Setting his teeth,  Luke

thrust his lightsaber through the wall to slash the green blade into the upper

part of the alien's weapon.

And on the far side of that wall, he sensed the  neatly  arranged  little

scene dissolve into chaos.

Luke pulled the lightsaber downward, slicing an opening  for  himself  as

quickly as the stubborn black stone would permit,  the  emotional  turmoil  of

sudden combat flooding over him as Mara exploded  into  action.  He  sensed  a

dizzying spin as she spun around and dropped into a crouch behind  her  chair,

stretching out with the  Force  for  her  enemies'  weapons.  She  yanked  one

straight out of its owner's hand?twisted another to the side to send his  shot

harmlessly into the ceiling?ducked back as another shot splattered across  the

corner of her chair back, sending tiny agonizing drops of liquid metal grazing

across her cheek?

And then Luke's section of wall collapsed with a thud into the chaos.  He

caught Mara's eye as she crouched behind the chair and threw his lightsaber to

her, stretched out with the Force to snatch hers from the floor behind him?

And with the old weapon flashing memories of Tatooine and Hoth and Bespin

through his mind, he strode into the midst of the fight, the blue-white  blade

spattering bolts of enemy fire and shattering across the  weapons  themselves.

One of the aliens leaped at him, a knife flashing into his hand; Luke  grabbed

him bodily with the Force and slammed him back against  two  others  preparing

for the same maneuver?

"Stop!" an authoritative voice ordered.

The aliens froze in their tracks,  their  eyes  focused  unblinkingly  on

Luke. Luke eyed them warily in return, his lightsaber held at the  ready.  Out

of the corner of his eye he got a glimpse of the speaker:  a  gray-haired  man

wearing an Imperial admiral's uniform. "There's no point  in  anyone  throwing

their lives away here," the admiral said sternly. "Let them go."

Luke stretched out toward  him  with  the  Force,  trying  to  gauge  his

sincerity. But both he and the other Imperial in the  room  were  still  being

shielded by the remaining ysalamiri behind the side wall. "Mara?" Luke  asked,

risking a quick glance at her.

"What do you think?" she said with a snort as she came to his  side,  the

green blade of his lightsaber held crossways at the ready between her and  the

aliens.

"He's trying to save his own neck."

"Of course, I am," the admiral conceded without  embarrassment.  "As  I'm

also attempting to protect the necks of my troops.  If  there  was  one  thing

Thrawn made certain his officers clearly understood, it  was  never  to  waste

people for no reason." He smiled. "And it is well known that the  Jedi  Master

Luke Skywalker does not kill needlessly or in cold blood."

"He's also stalling," Mara added. "They're probably setting up some  kind

of trap right now."

"Then we'd better get moving." Luke nodded at the group.  "You  think  we

should take one of them as a hostage?"

Mara hissed between her teeth. "No," she said.  "Parck  is  too  old?he'd

slow us down?and I don't trust any of these Chiss not to be more trouble  than

they're worth. That goes double for General Fel."

Luke blinked, focusing his attention for the first time  on  the  younger

Imperial's face. Baron Fel? "Yes, it's me, Luke," Fel confirmed. "It's been  a

long time."

"Yes, it has," Luke murmured. Baron Fel, working for the Empire again?

Mara nudged him in the side. "Let's save the Rogue veterans' reunion  for

another time, okay? We've got to get moving."

"Right," Luke said, stepping back toward the wall and  the  opening  he'd

cut.

"Do think about our offer, Mara," the admiral called after them. "I think

you'll find our struggle out here to be the most vitally  important  challenge

you could ever face."

"And you think  about  my  warning,"  Mara  countered.  "Stay  away  from

Bastion."

The admiral shook his head minutely. "We'll do what we have to."

"Then so will I," Mara threatened. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Fel smiled at her. "Take your best shot."

"Perhaps your fear of what the Empire might do with our information  will

be an added motivation for you to join us," Parck added.  "At  any  rate,  I'm

certain we'll see you again."

"Right," Mara said. "I'll look forward to it."

CHAPTER

29

Luke waited until Mara had ducked through the opening before backing  out

of the room himself. "I believe this one's yours," he told her, shutting  down

her lightsaber and handing it across.

"Thanks," she said, taking it as she passed his back to him. "Interesting

grip yours has got. I think I like it better than mine."

"You can keep that in mind  when  you  get  around  to  making  your  own

someday," Luke said, digging her sleeve blaster out of his jacket and  tossing

it to her. "Here's your blaster. Watch out?some of their people come  equipped

with ysalamir backpacks."

"I know," Mara said. She was at the door now, looking carefully out  into

the corridor. "Looks clear, but that won't last long. What's the plan? Back to

the stairway?"

"Unfortunately, I had the Qom Jha lock it down," Luke told her,  stepping

into the doorway beside her as he threw a last glance back at the opening he'd

cut.

He'd have thought one of the aliens?the Chiss, Mara had called them?might

try for a final shot, but they had apparently decided to stay put.

Which meant Mara was right. They had something else planned.

He looked down the corridor, stretching  out  with  the  Force  as  well.

"Child Of Winds, stay on top of Artoo," he told the Qom Qae. "I don't want you

getting lost."

"Or getting in the way," Mara added. "So where are we going?"

Before Luke could answer, Artoo rolled out  into  the  corridor,  heading

confidently off to the left with Child Of Winds balanced precariously atop his

dome. "I guess we're following Artoo," Luke said, setting off after them.  "He

must have been able to download the floor plan like I asked him to."

"That, or he's looking for a recharger," Mara muttered as she  fell  into

step beside him. "How good are you at spotting individual ysalamiri?"

"Not as good as I am with groups of them," he  conceded,  stretching  out

with the Force. He could sense the grim activity all around them as the  Chiss

mobilized for combat...

The small empty space to their right was so subtle that he nearly  missed

it. "Watch out!" he snapped to Mara, skidding to a halt and spinning  to  face

that direction.

Even as he brought his lightsaber up, a half-meter-square concealed  wall

panel popped open and a weapon poked out. Behind it in the shadowy  alcove  he

caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes and the glint of a nutrient  frame  above

them?

From behind Luke came the flash of blaster fire; not targeted between the

glowing eyes, as he might have expected, but above them. There  was  a  sudden

howl in his mind?

And the zone of silence around the gunman abruptly vanished.

There was a flash of blue as the alien weapon spat its fire toward Luke's

chest.

But too late. With the ysalamir's bubble collapsed, Luke blocked the shot

with ease. The gunman got  off  two  more  shots,  also  blocked,  before  the

collapsing blue circles of a stun blast sent him slumping out of sight to  the

floor of his guard alcove.

"Oh, good," Mara said, hefting her blaster and working the select switch.

"The stun setting works on them."

"That could be handy," Luke agreed, glancing around with eyes  and  mind.

There were no other threats he could detect, at least  not  in  the  immediate

area. "Any reason in particular why you didn't kill him?"

"Hey, you're the one who wants me to start  acting  like  a  Jedi,"  Mara

retorted, starting down the corridor again. Artoo  had  gotten  a  few  meters

ahead, and was twittering with nervous impatience as he swung  his  dome  back

around to look at them. "Problem is, the stun setting on this thing has  about

the range of a thrown bantha. If they're smart enough to keep their  distance,

you'll have to block their shots while I pick off the ysalamiri."

"Right," Luke said,  frowning  as  he  picked  up  his  pace.  There  was

something ominous growing behind the protection of Mara's  mental  barrier:  a

dark thought, or equally dark purpose. For a moment he considered  asking  her

about it; but the fact that she was hiding it from him strongly  suggested  he

should leave it alone.

"Any idea what their plan is?" he asked instead as they  caught  up  with

Artoo.

"Short-term, to put us in deep storage for a few days," Mara said.  "They

figure making us go into healing trances is the easiest way to do that; hence,

the gunfire."

"Friendly sorts," Luke murmured.

"Yeah," Mara agreed. "Long-term, they're waiting for Thrawn  to  return."

There was a momentary flicker in her emotions,  a  deepening  of  that  hidden

darkness...

"And since they think he may have popped up at Bastion,  Parck's  decided

to head out there and talk to them."

Luke felt suddenly cold. "And turn this place over to the Empire?"

"The place, and everything in it," Mara said grimly.  "That  may  not  be

what they think they're going to do; but once the Empire knows  they're  here,

they'll get hold of it. One way or another."

Ahead, Artoo warbled and made a right turn into a cross corridor.  "Where

are we going?" Mara demanded as they followed.

"I don't know," Luke said, frowning. Twenty meters  ahead,  the  corridor

ended in a T-junction, and for some unknown reason his mind  flashed  back  to

the Cavrilhu Pirates' asteroid base and the very different T-junction  at  the

far end of the Jedi trap they'd lured him into. Somewhere directly  ahead,  he

could sense the blank area created by a group of ysalamiri.

And then Artoo twittered uncertainly and rolled to  a  stop,  facing  the

wall blocking their corridor in obvious confusion...

"Artoo, get back!" Luke snapped, bringing up his lightsaber and taking  a

long step to put himself in front of Mara. "It's a trap!" Directly ahead,  the

wall exploded into a shower of dazzling sparks and completely disintegrated?

And standing shoulder to shoulder together in the  corridor  behind  what

was left of the false wall, a dozen ysalamiri-equipped Chiss opened fire.

Artoo squealed and swiveled around, racing back toward Luke as fast as he

could, Child Of Winds scrambling frantically to hang on. Luke  barely  noticed

them, his whole attention focused ahead on the Chiss.  He  forced  himself  to

relax, letting the Force guide his hands as it had in so  many  such  battles,

swinging his lightsaber into blocking position in front of each shot.

But  with  the  area  around  the  Chiss  closed  to  that   subconscious

prescience,  a  precious  split  second  was  being  shaved  off  his   normal

preparation time. Behind him, Mara's blaster was flashing  steadily  over  his

shoulder, methodically picking off  ysalamiri.  If  he  could  keep  up  their

defense long enough for her to finish the job...

Somewhere at the edge of his mind he could hear Child Of Winds screeching

something, but he had no concentration to  spare  for  a  translation.  Ahead,

through the massed line of Chiss he could see what  appeared  to  be  movement

behind them; and then, without warning, they dropped in unison to one knee?

Revealing another line of troops that had come up behind them.

And suddenly there were twice as many bolts blazing his direction.  Bolts

he was slowly but steadily losing the race to stay ahead of.

Behind him, Mara barked something, and through his haze of  concentration

Luke saw one of the standing aliens jerk back and collapse as  Mara  abandoned

her nonkilling policy. Luke clenched his teeth and  leaned  into  his  effort,

dimly realizing that if Parck sent a team in from behind them  right  now,  he

and Mara would be finished. Child Of Winds screeched again?

And then, sweeping in from both directions down the cross corridor ahead,

a group of Qom Jha dove straight into the middle of the battle.

The Chiss had no chance to react. Sweeping at full speed  just  over  the

heads of the standing warriors, the Qom Jha grabbed the tops of their nutrient

frames, the momentum yanking the gunmen off their feet and slamming them  hard

onto their backs on the floor.

"Let's go," Luke heard himself shout, breaking into a cautious jog toward

the remaining row of kneeling Chiss. If he could get close enough to get  them

in range of Mara's stun setting...

Half a corridor away, the Qom Jha braked from their  mad  rush,  swiveled

around with impossible grace, and charged back at  the  kneeling  gunmen  from

behind.

Again they grabbed the nutrient frames as they passed, pulling the frames

and the attached Chiss sprawling onto their faces.

Luke let his lightsaber come to a stop, arm muscles starting  to  tremble

with adrenaline and suddenly released tension. Mara had already sprinted  past

him, waving the Qom Jha aside as her blaster swept its rings of blue stun fire

across the downed Chiss. Even as Luke reached her side, the last of the gunmen

twitched and stopped moving.

"That was fun," Mara gritted between clenched  teeth,  throwing  a  quick

glance both directions down the corridor as she  again  worked  her  blaster's

select switch. "I hope they haven't got many more of these  little  traps  set

up."

"I don't think we've got far to go," Luke said,  looking  at  Artoo.  The

little droid was already rolling  down  the  cross  corridor  to  their  left,

heading toward a large, heavy-looking door blocking off the end of the passage

fifteen meters away. A door, he noted, equipped with the  same  locking  wheel

and hand-grip release system as those of the hidden stairway far behind  them.

"Splitter Of Stones, get your people together and follow us."

He ran forward, closing down his lightsaber  and  clipping  it  onto  his

belt, reaching Artoo as the droid slowed to a  stop  in  front  of  the  door.

Turning the wheel,  Luke  squeezed  the  grips  and  pulled.  The  door  swung

ponderously open, letting in a rush of cool air?

Skies of red blood, Keeper Of Promises muttered in amazement. What  place

is this?

"Our way out," Luke told him, feeling a touch of the same awe as he gazed

across the view in front of them.  Stretching  away  across  the  black  stone

floor, parked close together like troops on  parade,  were  multiple  rows  of

small starships like the pair  that  had  attacked  him  on  his  way  to  the

planetary surface.

Beside him, Mara whistled softly. "The hangar didn't look this  big  from

the outside," she said.

"It must stretch back farther than  its  roof  indicated,"  Luke  agreed,

wondering how such a closely packed group of  ships  could  ever  be  properly

serviced. A glance upward gave him his answer: the  entire  area  beneath  the

high ceiling was crammed with service, monitor,  and  fueling  equipment,  all

held together by metal frames and a network of  catwalks.  "There  must  be  a

hundred of them here."

"At least," Mara agreed... and as she spoke, Luke could sense that secret

darkness deepen within her. It was about time he asked her about it?

There was a sudden flicker of sensation from behind him. "Look out!" Mara

snapped, spinning around and firing a pair of quick shots  past  his  shoulder

through the open door.

Luke turned, too, snatching up his lightsaber and igniting it. A  handful

of Chiss were in the intersection they'd just left, scrambling reflexively out

of the way of Mara's shots. "Keep firing," Luke told her, giving  the  door  a

quick look. There was no locking wheel on the hangar side,  but  there  was  a

small hole where one had apparently been removed.  Experimentally,  he  turned

the wheel a few degrees; through the hole, the central  axle  of  the  locking

mechanism could be seen turning.

Perfect. He turned the wheel back to full-open again  and  with  a  quick

slash of his lightsaber sliced it off  flush  with  the  door.  Ducking  under

Mara's covering shots, he pushed the door closed.

But it is still unlocked, Flier Through Spikes objected. They can use the

grip-rocks to open it again.

"Not for long," Luke assured him. Crouching down, he  gazed  through  the

hole at the central axle and stretched out to the Force. Without  the  wheel's

leverage it was much harder to turn, but the thought of armed Chiss descending

on the hangar was more than enough incentive. Ten seconds later, the door  was

securely locked.

"That won't hold them for long," Mara warned. "If nothing else, they  can

head over the roof on foot and come in the other end."

"I know," Luke said, craning his neck to peer past the parked ships.  She

was right: as they'd guessed from their first look at  the  place,  the  whole

front of the hangar was wide open, with only a slight overhang to  protect  it

from rain or attack. The fortress's  designers,  he  decided,  must  not  have

intended for their hangar to be packed this full. "But  it  should  slow  them

down long enough for us to borrow a ship and get out of here."

"Then all we'll have to worry about is  whatever  they've  got  in  those

towers," Mara said tartly, pushing past him and ducking  between  two  of  the

ships. "We'll have to take something from the front," she called back over her

shoulder. "I'll try to get one started. You make sure that  door  is  secured,

then find a way to keep the rest of that front row from taking off after us."

"Got it," Luke said. "Artoo, take Child Of Winds and follow Mara?give her

a hand figuring out the flight systems.  Splitter  Of  Stones,  you  and  your

people had better head out while you can. Thank you for your help."

Our part is paid, Master Walker Of Sky, the Qom Jha said, his  tone  just

slightly ominous. It will now be your part to rid us of the Threateners as you

promised.

With that, he and the others flapped away over the parked  ships.  "We'll

do our best," Luke murmured.

He double-checked the door, then  took  another  moment  to  stretch  his

thoughts back into the corridor. It was  empty.  Apparently,  the  Chiss  knew

better than to waste their time with the impenetrable stone.

Particularly with such an obvious alternative available.  Thirty  seconds

later, following the sound of  Artoo's  wheels  across  the  black  stone,  he

reached the front of the hangar.

Artoo and Child Of Winds were there,  the  latter  again  scrabbling  for

balance on top of the droid as the dome swiveled back and forth.  Luke  looked

along the front line of ships, noting a gap in the neat array  where  one  was

apparently missing.

Mara, however, was nowhere to be seen. "Artoo, where's Mara?"

The droid warbled a negative, still looking around. Luke peered out  into

the dim sunlight and stretched out with the Force?

"What are you waiting for?" Mara demanded as she ran up from behind  him.

"We need these ships disabled."

"We were waiting for you," Luke told her, frowning. The dark secret still

loomed in her mind; but there was something new to the texture now. All tinges

of uncertainty or doubt had disappeared, replaced by a heavy cloud of deep and

bitter sadness. Something vitally important had just happened...

"Well, don't," she growled, slapping a release panel on the side  of  the

nearest ship. Above them, a hatchway swung open and a ladder unfolded  to  the

floor.

"One of the ships seems to be missing," Luke pointed out.

"I know?Parck mentioned it was  on  its  way  in,"  Mara  said,  swinging

herself up onto the ladder. "Nothing we can do about  that  one.  Go  on,  get

busy."

She disappeared inside. "Right," Luke murmured,  reaching  out  with  the

Force to lift Artoo up and into the hatch behind her. Then,  stepping  to  the

next ship in line, he ran a quick eye over it. The fighter was three times the

size of an X-wing, with a set of four TIE-fighter solar panels melding into  a

disturbing flow of alien lines.

And presumably with a set of repulsorlifts on the underside...

He ducked under the bow. There they were, one pair running longitudinally

along each side of the centerline: the subtle but distinctive diamond  pattern

of repulsorlifts. Four quick slashes with his lightsaber,  and  they  were  no

longer functional. Ducking around the landing gear, he moved on  to  the  next

ship.

He had disabled seven of them, with another seven to go, when  he  caught

the change in Mara's emotional texture.  Slowly,  with  the  slightly  awkward

movements that came of a pilot unfamiliar with her craft, the ship lifted half

a meter off the  floor  and  eased  forward.  His  comlink  beeped?"We've  got

company," Mara's voice announced tightly; and as Luke  concentrated  he  could

sense both wary Chiss minds and ysalamiri-created blank areas approaching over

the rooftop. "Snap it up?I'll try to keep them busy."

And she did. The interior of the hangar  was  flickering  with  reflected

light from the firefight by the time Luke finished disabling the last  of  the

fighters: soft blue flashes  from  the  Chiss  hand  weapons,  a  sharper  and

brighter blue from Mara's ship. Ready, he thought toward her, sprinting across

the line of disabled ships toward the end of the hangar opening where most  of

the brighter flashes seemed to be coming from. He reached it, eased a  careful

eye around the corner?

Get ready, Mara's  acknowledgment  flowed  into  his  mind;  and  with  a

sandstorm blast of backwash, the ship dropped past the overhang and bounced to

a rough landing in front of him.

Luke was ready. Even as the ship  bounced  up  again,  he  was  sprinting

around its tail to its far side.  The  hatchway  Mara  had  used  earlier  was

standing open; throwing Jedi  strength  into  his  leg  muscles,  Luke  leaped

upward, catching the door and pulling himself inside to land in an undignified

sprawl on the deck. "Go!" he shouted, stretching out with the  Force  to  pull

the hatch closed.

Mara needed no encouragement. Already the ship  was  jumping  toward  the

sky, the roar of repulsorlifts not quite drowning the pinging of  Chiss  shots

slapping into the underside and back.

Are we safe? Child Of Winds asked anxiously. He was pressed into the aft-

most seat, his claws gripping the safety straps.

"I think so," Luke soothed him, listening to the fading  pings  of  heat-

stressed metal as Mara  pulled  for  altitude.  "All  they  seem  to  have  is

antipersonnel weapons down there. Unless they can get their heavier  stuff  on

line quickly?"

"Luke, get up here," Mara's taut voice called back from the flight deck.

Luke scrambled to his feet, his mind reaching out  to  Mara's.  The  dark

thought was still there, lurking in the back of her mind. But it had now  been

superseded by something else, a tangle and mixture he  couldn't  decipher.  He

dodged past Artoo, gurgling pensively in a droid alcove, and dropped into  the

copilot seat beside Mara. "What is it?" he snapped.

"Look at the fortress," Mara told him,  turning  the  ship  into  a  slow

rotation.

"What, the weapons towers?" Luke asked, stretching out with the Force  as

he looked down at the structure turning lazily into view out  the  canopy.  He

couldn't see or sense any indication they were preparing to fire.  He  glanced

at Mara's board, searching for the sensor displays?

"Forget the logistics and strategy for a minute," Mara said curtly. "Look

at the fortress. Just look at it."

Luke felt his forehead wrinkling as he  gazed  down  through  the  canopy

again. It was a fortress. Walls; a flat, roundish, angled roof with  a  hangar

in the middle; four weapons towers following the curve of the  roof  in  back,

one intact tower farther down in front?

"Look at it," Mara said again, very softly.

And with a sudden shock, he saw it. "Stars of Alderaan," he breathed.

"It's almost funny, isn't it?" Mara said, her voice sounding strange. "We

automatically dismissed  the  whole  idea  that  it  could  be  some  kind  of

superweapon.

Thrawn never used superweapons, we all said.

"And yet, that's exactly what it is. The only kind of superweapon someone

like Thrawn ever used. The only kind he ever needed."

Luke thought about that galaxy holo in the command center,  and  all  the

planets and resources Thrawn had gathered under his control. Enough to tip the

balance of power in any direction  its  inheritors  chose.  "Information,"  he

said, a shiver running through him.

Mara nodded. "Information."

Luke nodded back, gazing down at  the  fortress  now  receding  into  the

surrounding hills as Mara pulled the ship away again. The flat-roofed fortress

with its four towers in back and one in front  stretching  upward  toward  the

sky. Looking for all the world like four fingers and a thumb reaching to pluck

the stars from the sky.

The Hand of Thrawn.

* * *

Just under a kilometer away from the fortress, shielded from  view  by  a

craggy ridge, was a deep indentation in the cliff face.  Mara  maneuvered  the

ship carefully in beneath the overhang and eased it as far  back  against  the

wall as she could. "That's it," she said, shutting down the repulsorlifts  and

feeling herself slump with fatigue and released tension. For  the  moment,  at

least, they were safe.

For the moment.

From the aft seat, Child Of Winds  said  something.  Almost  intelligibly

this time, but Mara was too tired to even try to decipher  it.  "What  did  he

say?" she asked.

"He asked what we're going to do now," Luke translated. "A good question,

actually."

"Well, for right now, we're just going to sit here," Mara said, running a

critical eye over Luke's outfit. There were  a  half-dozen  new  scorch  marks

where the Chiss' charric shots had made it through his defenses, and she could

sense his automatic and almost unconscious suppression of the pain. "Looks  to

me like you could use a few hours in a healing trance."

"That can wait," Luke said, gazing through the canopy  at  the  landscape

beyond the overhang, fading into the growing darkness of evening.  "My  damage

to their repulsorlifts won't hold them for long. We have to get back in  there

before they can mount an aerial search for us."

"Actually, I don't think  they'll  bother,"  Mara  said,  waving  at  her

control board.

"For one thing, the sensors on these things seem to be pretty useless for

close-order ground searches. My guess is that they'll  move  troops  into  the

areas where they think we stashed our ships and leave it at that."

"You don't think they'll worry we might get back inside?"

"And do what?"

Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"

Mara took a deep breath. "I mean I'm not  sure  we  should  even  try  to

interfere with what they're doing."

Child Of Winds made a noise like a choked-off comment. Luke glanced  back

at him, then turned again to Mara. "But they're enemies of the New  Republic,"

he said. "Aren't they?"

Mara shook her head. "I don't know.  Just  because  they're  in  Imperial

uniforms..."

She sighed. "Look. Baron Fel was in there. The same Baron Fel who  turned

his back on the Empire years ago when he finally recognized  how  corrupt  and

vicious  things  had  become  under  Isard  and  some  of  Palpatine's   other

successors.

"Yet here he is, wearing an  Imperial  uniform  again.  Braintwisting  is

useless against a man like him?you'd ruin the fine combat edge that makes  him

useful to you in the first place. Something must have happened to legitimately

change his mind."

"Thrawn?"

"In a way," Mara said. "Fel said Thrawn took him to the  Unknown  Regions

and showed him around... and that that was when he agreed to rejoin."

She could feel Luke's emotions  darken.  "There's  something  out  there,

isn't there?" he said quietly. "Something terrible."

"According to the Chiss, there are  a  hundred  terrible  somethings  out

there," Mara said. "Of course, that is only the Chiss talking. Odds are that a

lot of the dangers would be pretty harmless to something  with  the  size  and

resources of the New Republic. Threats we could swat without  any  trouble  if

they ever ventured in past the Outer Rim."

She shrugged uncomfortably. "On the other hand..."

"On the other hand, Fel knows our resources  as  well  as  we  do,"  Luke

finished for her. "And yet he's here."

Mara nodded. "He and Parck are both here. And neither of  them  seems  to

have any interest in wasting  their  resources  in  actions  against  the  New

Republic. That says a lot right there."

For a long minute the ship was silent. Then Luke stirred. "Unfortunately,

there's still one more point we have to consider," he said. "Bastion  and  the

Empire. You said Parck was going to open contact with them?"

"Yes," Mara confirmed, the quiet ache within her deepening. "And I  don't

trust the current Imperial leadership to see things with  the  same  long-term

perspective that Fel does. You give them the Hand of Thrawn and they will move

against Coruscant."

Luke gazed out the canopy again. "We can't  let  that  happen,"  he  said

quietly. "Not with the New Republic in the state it's in."

"Especially not if those  resources  are  needed  to  battle  some  other

threat," Mara agreed, unstrapping her restraints. "Which  unfortunately  means

we have to get back in there and pull copies of that data  for  ourselves.  At

least then we'll have a chance of blocking whatever Bastion does to pull  them

in on the Imperial side."

She could sense Luke forcing the tiredness from his mind. "You're right,"

he said as he started unfastening his own straps. "If we can get  Artoo  to  a

computer jack so he can download everything?"

"Hold it, hold it," Mara said, reaching over and  putting  a  restraining

hand on his arm. "I didn't mean right this minute. We're  not  going  anywhere

until you get those burns healed."

"They're nothing," Luke protested, glancing down across the scorch marks.

"I can handle them."

"Oh, bravely said," Mara said, fatigue and her  private  pain  adding  an

unintended note of scorn into her voice. "Let me rephrase that: I'm not  going

anywhere with you until you're healed. You were just barely able to keep ahead

of that last attack?I don't want any of your attention wasted on old  injuries

you could have gotten rid of with a few hours' rest. Understand?"

He glared at her. But behind the glare,  she  could  sense  his  grudging

agreement.

"All right, you win," he said with a sigh, resettling  himself  into  his

seat. "But you wake me right away if anything happens. I'll set up the  phrase

'welcome back' to snap me out of it."

Mara nodded. "Got it."

"And even if nothing happens, wake me up in two hours," he added, closing

his eyes. "It won't take them more than a few  hours  to  get  enough  of  the

damaged ships out of the way to free up the ones in back. We'll  need  to  get

back there before then if we're going to stop Parck from handing all this over

to Bastion."

Without waiting for a reply, he took another deep breath and leaned  back

against the headrest. His thoughts and emotions cleared and faded, and he  was

gone. "Don't worry about Bastion," Mara said softly. "I'll take care of it."

For a moment she sat there in the silence, gazing at his sleeping face, a

tangle of emotions twisting through the darkness of  her  private  agony.  Ten

years now they'd known each other, years that  could  have  been  filled  with

camaraderie and friendship. Years Luke had effectively  wasted  with  his  own

lonely and arrogantly stupid wanderings through  completely  unnecessary  pain

and doubt.

She ran a fingertip gently across his forehead, brushing back a few loose

strands of hair. And yet, after all that, here they were together  again,  and

the man she'd once so highly respected and cared for was finally back  on  his

proper path.

Or perhaps it was the two of them together who were on their proper path.

Perhaps.

Behind her came a tentative questioning  warble.  "It's  just  a  healing

trance," Mara assured the droid, pushing the  last  of  her  straps  away  and

getting out of her seat. "He'll be all right. You watch over things  in  here,

okay?"

The droid twittered again,  his  tone  suddenly  suspicious.  "I'm  going

outside," Mara told him, making sure her sleeve blaster  and  lightsaber  were

secure. "Don't worry, I'll be back."

She slid past him, ignoring his sudden flurry of comments  and  questions

and popped the hatch. Child Of Winds brushed past her as the ladder  unfolded,

chirping rapidly for a few seconds and then flapping off  into  the  deepening

darkness.

A darkness matched by the ache deep within her.

For a moment she looked back at the top of Luke's head, visible over  the

chair's headrest, wondering  if  he  had  guessed  her  plan.  But  no.  She'd

carefully held it secret within her, behind the mental barriers Palpatine  had

so long ago taught her how to create.

The old Luke, the one obsessed with solving every problem himself,  might

have forced his way in through those barriers to demand  the  truth.  The  new

Luke, she knew, would never do such a thing.

Later, probably, he would regret not having done so. But by then it would

be too late. The simple fact was that Parck and the Chiss had to be  prevented

from giving the Empire the secrets of this place.

And it was up to her to stop them. However she could. Whatever the cost.

The droid had run out of words and was watching her, his  stance  somehow

reminding her of that of a frightened child. "Don't worry,"  she  soothed  him

quietly. "It'll be all right. Watch over him, okay?"

The droid gave a forlorn moan  of  agreement.  Stretching  out  with  the

Force, Mara turned and headed down the ladder.

However she could. Whatever the cost.

CHAPTER

30

Even late at night the  Drev'starn  spaceport  was  a  bustling  hive  of

activity, the pedestrians and vehicles casting  long  shadows  in  the  bright

light of the glow lamps as they hurried about their business. The same  bright

light, Navett thought as he strode along, that would  make  the  spaceport  an

ideal target for the warships orbiting high above them.

He wondered if that same thought had occurred to the rest of the hurrying

crowds.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons they were hurrying.

He reached the target zone and gave  a  soft  whistle.  It  was  answered

immediately from a stack of shipping crates to his right. Stepping around  the

stack, he found Klif waiting. "Report," he murmured.

"We're set," Klif murmured back. "She went in about an hour ago and  shut

things down. I shorted out one of the glow lamps to give us an approach."

Navett edged an eye around the  crates  for  a  cautious  look.  The  old

woman's Sydon Pacifier was squatting silently  in  its  landing  circle,  with

nothing but parking lights showing. A long strip of shadow thrown  by  another

stack of crates led nearly to its sealed  hatchway.  "Looks  good,"  he  said.

"What about the New Rep agents?"

"Well, now, that's an interesting question," Klif said. "I  did  a  quick

slice into the spaceport computer; and according to its records, they're gone.

"

Navett frowned. Gone? Now? "Where?"

"No idea," Klif said. "But I ran a global against both their registration

and engine ID, and there's no indication they might have  circled  around  and

landed again, not here or anywhere else on Bothawui."

"Interesting, indeed," Navett murmured, stroking his chin as he gazed  at

the Pacifier. "Either we fooled them completely, or  else  they  suddenly  had

something more urgent to do. Rogue Squadron's  attached  to  Bel  Iblis  these

days, isn't it?"

Klif nodded. "You think Bel Iblis is up to something?"

"That walking sack of  annoyance  is  always  up  to  something,"  Navett

growled. "However, he's not our problem. We'll send word to  Bastion  and  let

them figure him out.

Right now"?he slid his blaster out of its concealed sheath?"we've got our

own sack of annoyance to deal with. Come on."

They slipped out into the concealing shadow and headed for the  Pacifier,

eyes and ears alert for any sign of trouble. None came before they reached the

ship, dropping into combat crouches on opposite sides of  the  hatchway.  "Pop

it," Navett muttered, blaster held ready as he tried to  watch  everywhere  at

once.

Antilles could conceivably have sent in other New Rep agents on  his  way

out...

There was the muffled clicking of Klif's lockjim followed by a soft hiss,

and the top of the hatchway swung smoothly down to the permacrete, its  inside

surface forming a ramp. Giving the area one final scan, Navett rose  from  his

crouch and ducked up the ramp into the ship.

Inside was darkness, with only dim walk-lights marking the corridors.  He

could hear Klif's soft breathing behind him as he eased down toward the living

section.

Still no signs of life; the old woman must already be asleep. He eased to

the first door in line, eased it open...

And abruptly, all around them, the lights blazed on.

Navett dropped instantly into a crouch, cursing under his  breath  as  he

blinked against the sudden glare. There was a bump against  his  shoulders  as

Klif dropped into a mirror-image crouch at  his  back.  "No  one  here,"  Klif

hissed from behind him.

"Not here, either," Navett said, frowning as his eyes finished  adjusting

to the light and realizing that what had seemed so bright when  they  came  on

were apparently only the normal shipboard lights.

No gunmen, no automatic weapons, not  even  any  eye-burning  flash-flare

defensive lights. What was going on?

"Good evening, gentlemen," a voice spoke up into the tense silence.

The old woman's voice.

"Klif?" Navett hissed, looking around  again.  There  was  still  no  one

visible in his direction. "Anyone?"

"No, I'm not here," the voice assured him smugly. "I'm a  recording.  You

wouldn't hurt an innocent little  recording,  would  you?"  She  snorted.  "Of

course, considering who you are, maybe you would."

"There," Klif said, pointing. Half hidden behind a cable  conduit  was  a

small datapad with a recording rod sticking out of it.

"You must think you're pretty hot stuff," the woman continued. "Strutting

around in plain sight, bamboozling the bumbling Bothans?hey,  that's  kind  of

cute?and in general running rings around everyone and everything."

Navett stepped over to the datapad. It was jammed into the space  between

the conduit and the wall as if hurriedly slapped in there.

On the other hand, it had been keyed to come on with the lights...

"Well, I'm sorry to so rudely pop your bubble," she said. "But you're not

as smart as you think. Not nearly as smart as you think."

Navett caught Klif's eye and  nodded  toward  the  sleeping  rooms.  Klif

nodded back and slipped down the corridor toward the farthest one. Putting his

back to a wall, Navett leveled his blaster along the corridor leading  to  the

flight deck.

This could still be nothing but a distraction.

"You see, I talked to a couple of friends this afternoon," the  recording

went on.

"They tell me that every time they try to get a handle on this big,  loud

Vengeance organization that's been making so  much  noise,  it  just  kind  of

evaporates into nothing. Kind of like the bubble I just mentioned?nothing  but

hot air. Hot air blown by?dare I say it??a handful of Imperial agents."

There was a flicker of movement at the corner of Navett's eye. He glanced

over to see Klif emerge from the sleeping room area and  shake  his  head.  He

nodded  in  the  direction  of  the  cargo  hold  and  lifted   his   eyebrows

questioningly.

"So I guess that means it's down to just you folks and me," the old woman

said.

"My New Rep friends have left?which you  probably  already  know?and  the

vast organization you've been pretending to be doesn't exist. So. You and  me.

Should be fun."

Klif was staring at Navett, a bewildered frown  on  his  face.  "What  in

blazes is she talking about?" he hissed. "Is she challenging us?"

Navett shrugged.

"Oh, and help yourself to something in  the  galley  if  you  want,"  she

added. "Especially whichever of you was  stuck  out  there  watching  my  ship

today. Stakeouts can be such thirsty work. Just put  everything  back  in  the

cooler when you're done, okay?

Well, see you later. Which is not to say you'll see me, of course."

There was a soft click, and the recording stopped. "This woman is  nuts,"

Klif declared, looking around. "Does she  have  any  idea  at  all  who  she's

dealing with?"

"I don't know,"  Navett  said,  eyeing  the  datapad  thoughtfully.  "She

implied she knows we're Imperials; but she never once said anything about  our

covers here.

Or whether she even knows she's talked to us."

Klif grunted. "So she's fishing."

"She's fishing," Navett nodded. "More to the point, she's fishing  alone.

If she had any proof or official backing she'd have had more than  just  trick

lights and a recording waiting here. Sounds like her plan  now  is  simply  to

draw us out."

"So what do we do?" Klif demanded. "Keep after her?"

Navett rubbed his chin. "No, I think we'll back off," he said slowly. "If

she starts wandering in too close again, we can reconsider. But with  Antilles

and his partner gone, she's not going to be all that effective."

He peered down the corridor toward the flight deck. "Unless  she's  still

in here somewhere trying to get  a  look  at  us,"  he  amended,  hefting  his

blaster. "In which case, she's automatically vaped."

"Now you're talking," Klif growled.

"Just watch it," Navett warned. "She might have set up some booby traps."

* * *

They were there another hour, running a fine mesh over  the  ship  before

they finally gave up and left. Only three or four times  after  the  recording

shut off did they get close enough to the comlink hidden in  the  datapad  for

Moranda to pick up anything of what they were saying.

In most of those brief snippets, they were sounding pretty irritable.

Watching through her spy hole from inside the empty crate she'd set up on

top of a stack of similar ones fifty meters from her ship, she watched the two

of them slip out again into the bustle of activity. So she'd been  right,  she

and Corran and  Wedge.  The  Imperials  were  here,  and  they  were  planning

something nasty.

And they were sufficiently rattled that  they  were  willing  to  risk  a

murder right in the middle of the spaceport. That was very interesting.

And unless her ear had totally  failed  her,  that  careless  and  highly

unprofessional conversation beside her rigged  datapad  had  given  her  their

identities: the earnest but stupid proprietors of the Exoticalia Pet Emporium.

Of course, knowing was one thing. Proving was  something  else  entirely.

And for possibly the first time in her life, that vast legal gap was going  to

work against her.

The Imperials had joined the pedestrians on one  of  the  major  walkways

now, their postures and strides midway between casual and  decisive.  Imperial

Intelligence, most likely, or even some  of  the  folks  from  the  Ubiqtorate

underhanded tricks division. Either way, definitely experts who knew what they

were doing.

Unfortunately, the New Republic rep in Drev'starn wouldn't be  interested

in any of this without proof. Neither would the Bothans.

In fact, come to think of it, there  were  probably  still  a  couple  of

warrants outstanding against her on Bothawui.  That  definitely  let  out  the

Bothans.

The Imperials were gone now, vanished toward  the  western  entrance  and

presumably out of the spaceport. Still,  as  Moranda  had  long  ago  learned,

"presumably" never fed the sabacc pot or took the pets for  a  walk.  Her  new

playmates might just have been irritated enough by her sneaking out on them to

have left a spotter behind.

Opening her pocket flask, she took a sip of the tangy  blue  liqueur  and

consulted her chrono. Another two hours, maybe three, and it should be safe to

move.

Taking  another  sip,  she  resealed  the  flask  and   settled   herself

comfortably against one of the corners of the crate. It was a long time  since

she'd dealt with an opponent of this caliber, and as long as she was stuck  in

here anyway she might as well start working out her next move.

* * *

"It's so good to hear your voice again, Han," Leia's voice came over  the

Lady Luck's speaker, and there was no mistaking the relief in her tone.  "I've

been so worried about you."

"Hey, hon, it was no big deal," Han assured her, only fudging the truth a

little.

There would be plenty of time to tell her the whole story of their little

trip to Bastion when he could hold her hand while he did it.

And besides, the last thing he wanted to put out on a HoloNet call,  even

an encrypted one, was the fact that Grand  Admiral  Thrawn  was  indeed  still

alive. "The point is that we got in and out okay and we're heading  home,"  he

went on.

"I'm glad you're safe," she said,  a  cautious  hope  creeping  into  her

voice. "Did you?I mean??"

"We got it," Han told her. "At least, I think we got it."

There was a short pause. "What does that mean?"

"It means we got what we went for," Han said.  "And  it  all  looked  all

right to me.

But... well, there were a couple of complications. Let's leave it at that

for now, okay?"

"Okay," she said reluctantly. Clearly not happy about letting it go  like

that, but as aware as he was of the  limitations  of  HoloNet  security.  "But

don't go to Coruscant. I'm on my way to Bothawui."

"Bothawui?"

"Yes," she said. "I was heading for Coruscant when I found out  President

Gavrisom was there trying to mediate this whole war fleet thing."

"Ah," Han said, frowning at the speaker. Considering  he'd  left  her  on

Pakrik Minor ten days ago, she should have already been on Coruscant, not just

on her way there. Had something happened with that  meeting  with  Bel  Iblis?

"Your visitor get delayed or something?" he asked obliquely.

"The visitor arrived right  on  schedule,"  she  said.  "Only  it  wasn't

exactly who I was expecting. And I then wound up taking a little side trip."

Han felt his hands  curl  into  fists.  "What  kind  of  side  trip?"  he

demanded. If someone had tried to hurt her again?"Are you all right?"

"No, no, I'm fine,"  she  hastened  to  assure  him.  "Things  just  went

differently than I was expecting, that's all. It's all tied in with why I have

to talk to Gavrisom right away."

HoloNet security. "Yeah, all right, we'll head for Bothawui,"  Han  said.

"It'll be another couple of days before we can get there."

"That's fine," she said. "I won't be there until tomorrow myself."

Han grimaced. It would have been better if he  could  have  gotten  there

ahead of her. From everything he was hearing, the  sky  over  Bothawui  was  a

flash point just begging to happen. "Well, you be careful, Leia, all right?"

"I will," she promised. "I'm just glad you're safe.  I'll  call  Gavrisom

right away and give him the good news about your mission."

"And tell him I'm not going to give it to him unless he promises you some

real vacation time when this is over," Han warned.

"Absolutely," she agreed.

"Okay. I love you, Leia."

He could almost hear her smile. "I know," she said in their private joke.

"I'll see you soon."

With a sigh, Han cut off the comm. Another two  days  to  Bothawui,  with

Leia getting there a day ahead of them. Maybe Lando could get  a  little  more

speed out of this crate. He swiveled his chair around?

"So how's Leia?" Lando said from the bridge doorway.

"She's fine," Han assured him, studying  his  friend's  face.  There  was

something very unpleasant lurking there behind his eyes. "Sounds like she  had

more than just a straight run home from Pakrik Minor, though, and we  have  to

change course for Bothawui to meet her. What's up?"

"Trouble," Lando said darkly, jerking his head over his  shoulder.  "Come

on back a minute."

Lobot and Moegid were waiting in the aft control room when he  and  Lando

arrived, sitting on opposite sides of the computer table.  Lobot  just  looked

like Lobot, but Moegid's antennae were twitching in a way Han had never seen a

Verpine do before.

And lying on the table between them was the  datacard  Thrawn  had  given

them.

"Don't tell me," he warned as Lando picked up the datacard  and  slid  it

into the computer reader. "You said it was clean."

"We thought it was," Lando said, pulling up the Caamas  Document  on  the

large plotting display. "But then Moegid thought of something else to try." He

pointed to the display. "Turns out it's been altered."

A whole string of Corellian curses ran through Han's mind. None  of  them

was adequate for the situation. "Altered how?" he asked, just for the record.

"You have to ask?" Lando growled. "The list of the  Bothans  involved  in

the attack has been changed. The one thing we absolutely needed."

Han stepped closer, peering at the  display.  "You're  sure,"  he  asked.

Again, just for the record.

"Moegid is," Lando said, looking down at the Verpine. "It's  a  masterful

job, but there are some tricks the Verpines have come up with over the years."

He pointed at the display. "Remember how  surprised  we  were  when  we  first

looked it over and saw how many of the top Bothan  families  were  implicated?

Well, now we know why those names are there."

"A little something to stir the pot a  little  more,"  Han  said  with  a

grimace. "And to make the rest of the New Republic trust the Bothan leadership

even less than they already do."

"You got it, old friend." Lando pulled out one of the  other  chairs  and

sat down.

"Which means we're right back at square one."

Han pulled out a chair for himself. "We're not even that lucky," he  said

glumly.

"I already told Leia we've got the document."

"You don't think she'll keep that information to herself?"

"Normally, yes," Han said heavily. "Unfortunately... she already said she

was going to give Gavrisom the good news."

"And he won't keep it to himself?"

Han shook his head.  "He's  on  Bothawui,  trying  to  keep  a  war  from

starting. And he's not the type to not use every tool he's got."

"So in other words, we're going to show  up  at  Bothawui  with  everyone

expecting us to be the heroes of the day." Lando shook his head.  "Where's  an

Imperial ambush when you need one?"

"I wouldn't joke about that if I were you," Han warned him. "You can  bet

that Thrawn will be keeping the Empire off our backs on this  one;  but  there

are a lot of people on our side who won't want to see the Bothans getting  the

chance to slip off the hook."

Lando winced. "I hadn't thought about that. Though come to think of it...

no."

"What?"

"I was just thinking  about  what  Thrawn  said  about  Fey'lya's  people

stealing those Xerrol sniper blasters," he said slowly. "But if he  was  lying

about the Caamas Document..."

"Doesn't necessarily mean he was lying about that, too," Han  said.  "For

that matter, we don't have any proof that Thrawn was even the one who  changed

those names."

Lando snorted. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Someone's going to bring it up," Han pointed out. "I can guarantee  that

one."

Lando muttered something under his breath. "This just  gets  messier  and

messier.

So what do we do?"

Han shrugged. "We go to Bothawui  on  schedule  and  pretend  nothing  is

wrong. Maybe the Bothans really do know who was involved. If they do, maybe we

can bluff them into coming clean."

"And if they don't, or we can't?"

Han got to his feet. "We've got two days to come up with something  else.

Come on, let's go turn this crate toward Bothawui."

* * *

"That's it," Tierce said with grim satisfaction, waving at  the  display.

"They've come."

"I'm not convinced," Disra  growled,  peering  at  the  computer-enhanced

image on the display. "Fine, so whoever they are seem to be using TIE  fighter

technology.

That doesn't prove a thing."

"They flew past Bastion," Tierce pointed out. "Clearly looking  us  over.

And we've never seen anything like this anywhere else?"

"That doesn't even prove it was from the Unknown Regions," Disra sniffed.

"Let alone that it was Parck or the Hand of Thrawn or whoever."

"?and Bastion is where Thrawn  was  last  reported  being  seen,"  Tierce

finished with a note of finality in his  voice.  "Doubt  all  you  like,  Your

Excellency, but I can tell you right now that the scheme has worked.  Thrawn's

old allies are finally nosing around the bait."

"I hope you're right," Disra said. "With the  Bothawui  flash  postponed,

and with Pellaeon probably springing Vermel from Rimcee Station right at  this

moment?"

"I told you not to worry about that," Tierce  said  with  some  asperity.

"There's no way he can hurt us."

"Who can't hurt us?" Flim's voice asked from off to the left.

Disra turned to see Flim emerge from the secret door.  The  con  man  had

been doing a lot  of  that  lately,  he'd  noticed:  skulking  around  quietly

eavesdropping on his two partners.  As  if  he  didn't  trust  them.  "Admiral

Pellaeon," Tierce told him. "We were just  speculating  that  he  and  Colonel

Vermel will probably be coming by at some point to demand an  explanation  for

how we've been mistreating them."

"And were you also speculating about that alien  ship  that  buzzed  past

Bastion a couple of days ago?" Flim demanded. "Or were you going to wait until

the Hand of Thrawn knocked on the palace gate before you mentioned it?"

"I can assure you that the first thing they do will not  be  to  show  up

here in person," Tierce said. "These are very cagey  people,  Admiral.  Which,

considering the card they're holding, they have every right to be.  No,  their

first contact will be a cautious transmission from  somewhere  in  deep  space

where they can make a fast escape if they decide it's necessary."

"I fail to see how that helps us any," Flim said icily. "One way  or  the

other, they're still going to want to talk to Thrawn."

"Of course they are," Tierce explained patiently. "But  calling  in  from

off-planet allows me to take a message  for  you  and  to  shake  some  useful

information out of them along the way. Trust me, Admiral, I've  been  planning

for this moment for a long time."

Flim grimaced. "That's going to be very comforting if Parck sees straight

through it and blasts Bastion to rubble."

Tierce shook his head. "These people  were  extremely  loyal  to  Thrawn,

Admiral," he said. "No matter how cautious and skeptical they  appear  on  the

surface, they want Thrawn to have survived Bilbringi. You're a con man; surely

you understand the effect wishful thinking has on a target."

"Oh, it's very useful," Flim grumbled. "It also means  they're  twice  as

dangerous when you finally pull the rug  out  from  under  them.  Speaking  of

dangerous, did either of you know that General Bel Iblis has disappeared?"

Tierce and Disra exchanged glances. "What are you talking  about?"  Disra

asked.

"We got a message from the strike team on Bothawui a couple of hours ago,

" Flim said, strolling forward and tossing a datacard onto the desk. "He  said

a couple of Rogue Squadron pilots who'd  been  sniffing  around  had  suddenly

pulled out and left the system. He suggested that might mean Bel Iblis was  up

to something."

"Could be." Tierce nodded, stepping  to  the  desk  and  picking  up  the

datacard. "Let me check on it."

"I already did," Flim said, pulling over a chair and sitting  down.  "The

official story is that Bel Iblis is out at  Kothlis  putting  together  a  New

Republic force to protect Bothawui. But if you start poking through the  data,

you can't find any evidence that he's anywhere near Bothan space."

"How did you learn about all this?" Disra interrupted.

Flim lifted his eyebrows in polite surprise. "I'm Grand  Admiral  Thrawn,

Your Excellency," he reminded him. "I called Intelligence and asked."

"Did you get a written report?" Tierce asked him. He had the datacard  in

his datapad now and was skimming through it.

"It's at the end of  that  record,"  Flim  told  him.  "They  were  quite

helpful, actually?asked me if I'd like someone to do a  flyby  around  Kothlis

and see what they could find out."

"Waste of time," Tierce said, his voice starting to sound a  little  odd.

"If Kothlis is a cover story, Bel Iblis will have made it  far  too  vac-tight

for any casual flyby to pick up on."

"That's exactly what I told them," Flim said  smugly.  "I'm  starting  to

pick up a genuine feel for tactics, if I do say so myself."

"Don't flatter yourself," Tierce said absently, gazing  at  the  datapad.

"And in the future, kindly do not interact with anyone without Moff  Disra  or

myself present. Now be quiet and let me think."

Disra watched the Guardsman's face, an unpleasant sensation creeping over

him.

Tierce seemed to be doing more and more of this  sort  of  thing  lately,

this staring off into space as if in some kind of trance as  he  thought.  Was

the pressure and strain starting to get to him? Or had he always been this way

and Disra simply hadn't noticed?

Abruptly, Tierce's head snapped up. "Admiral, you said  that  the  D'ulin

woman had called one of the Mistryl leaders to come talk with us?"

"Yes," Flim said. "Last I heard, she was on her way here."

"Have D'ulin get in touch with her and tell her to change course," Tierce

instructed him. "Tell her we'll meet with her instead at Yaga Minor."

"Yaga Minor?" Disra repeated, frowning.

"Yes," Tierce said, smiling tightly. "I believe we may be  able  to  give

the Mistryl a  live  demonstration  of  Thrawn's  tactical  genius.  And  help

convince Captain Parck that Thrawn is indeed back; and deliver  a  humiliating

blow to one of Coruscant's best and brightest in the bargain."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Disra protested. "You've lost me."

"I think he's trying to tell us Bel Iblis is going to be insane enough to

hit Yaga Minor," Flim said, staring in obvious disbelief at Tierce.

The Guardsman inclined his head slightly. "Very good, Admiral. Only  it's

not insane?it's their very last chance to avert a civil  war.  Who  better  to

send than Bel Iblis?"

"I think Flim was right the first  time,"  Disra  said.  "You're  talking

about the Caamas Document; but they've already got the copy we gave  Solo  and

Calrissian."

"But Bel Iblis doesn't know  about  that."  Tierce  tapped  the  datapad.

"According to the report, he vanished to this supposed Kothlis  buildup  eight

days before that traitor Carib  Devist  brought  his  falsified  data  to  the

Parshoone Ubiqtorate station, which was how Solo found Bastion.  Assuming  Bel

Iblis has been basically out of contact with Coruscant?and that's  the  likely

situation?he won't know anything about Solo's Bastion trip."

"And what if he checks in before he leaves for the attack and  they  tell

him to stand down?" Disra countered.

"Then we simply impress the  Mistryl  with  the  size  and  power  of  an

Imperial Ubiqtorate base,"  Tierce  said.  "They  don't  need  to  know  we're

expecting an attack until it actually happens."

He looked at Flim. "It's a classic con  technique,"  he  added.  "If  the

target doesn't know what's supposed to happen, he can't be disappointed if  it

doesn't."

"He's right about that," Flim agreed.

"All right, fine," Disra said. "And what if Coruscant  changes  its  mind

and sends Bel Iblis to attack Bastion instead?"

Tierce shrugged. "On what grounds? We've given them the Caamas Document?"

"Altered."

"Which they don't know about and have no way of proving," Tierce reminded

him. "The point is that if Bel Iblis so much  as  pokes  his  nose  into  this

system they'll be handing us a propaganda weapon they'll regret for  years  to

come. Give me some holos of an unprovoked New Republic attack on Bastion,  and

I'll have a thousand systems seceding from Coruscant in the first month alone.

"

"Besides, Your Excellency," Flim said with a casual  wave  of  his  hand,

"even if Bel Iblis did hit Bastion, the three of us will still be safe at Yaga

Minor.

Unless you're so attached to your comforts here you couldn't bear to give

them up."

"I was merely pointing out," Disra said stiffly, "that it would look  bad

for Thrawn to be somewhere else when the Imperial capital was under attack."

"Don't worry about it," Tierce said with a tone of finality in his voice.

"Bel Iblis won't hit Bastion; and he will  hit  Yaga  Minor.  And  once  we've

defeated him, we'll see the Empire's prestige rise considerably."

"We might also finally push Coruscant into launching a full-scale  attack

at us," Disra warned.

Tierce shook his head. "In five days Coruscant will have a civil  war  on

its hands," he said. "And long before they're ready to turn any attention this

direction, we'll have Parck and the Hand of Thrawn."

His eyes glittered. "And this time, there will be nothing that  can  stop

us.

Nothing at all."

* * *

The corridor was long and drab and gray, lined with equally  drab  doors.

Locked doors, of course?this was a prison, after all. The  walls  and  ceiling

were solid metal, the floor a metal grating that gave off a  pair  of  hollow-

sounding clinks with every footstep.

They were certainly making a lot of those clinks at the moment,  Pellaeon

thought, listening to the sound echo off the  walls  as  he  strode  down  the

corridor toward the secondary security post just around the corner at the  far

end. It sounded like a parade, in fact, or a sudden burst of rain  on  a  thin

metal roof.

And those ahead had taken notice of the commotion. Already  four  of  the

guards had poked black-helmeted heads around the corner to see  what  all  the

commotion was about. Two of those guards were still visible;  the  others  had

ducked back out of sight, presumably to report  to  whoever  was  manning  the

security post.

The other two guards had reappeared by  the  time  Pellaeon  reached  the

corner, all four of them now standing  stiffly  at  full  military  attention.

Without a word or glance Pellaeon passed through the  group  and  rounded  the

corner.

Four more guards were standing at  attention  behind  the  security  post

desk, three meters in front of an extra-secure-looking cell  door.  Seated  at

the desk, gazing up at Pellaeon with a mixture of uncertainty and surliness in

his face, was a young major. He opened his mouth to speak?

"I'm Admiral Pellaeon," Pellaeon cut him off. "Supreme Commander  of  the

Imperial Fleet. Open the door."

The major's cheek twitched. "I'm sorry, Admiral, but I have  orders  that

the prisoner is to be kept strictly incommunicado."

For a few seconds Pellaeon just stared at  him,  a  glare  developed  and

honed and fine-tuned  by  long  decades  of  Imperial  command.  "I'm  Admiral

Pellaeon," he said at  last,  biting  out  each  word,  his  tone  the  verbal

counterpart of that blade-edged glare. He'd been willing to  give  the  guards

the benefit of the doubt, but he had neither the time nor the  inclination  to

put up with any nonsense whatsoever. "Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet.

Open the door."

The major swallowed visibly. His eyes flicked away from Pellaeon  to  the

dozen stormtroopers visible in the  corridor  behind  him,  his  mind  perhaps

flicking to the other twelve stormtroopers out of sight around the corner that

his guards would have told him about, then came reluctantly back to Pellaeon's

face again.

"My orders come from Moff Disra himself, sir," he said, the words  coming

out with difficulty.

Beside Pellaeon, the stormtrooper commander stirred.  "Moff  Disra  is  a

civilian," Pellaeon reminded the major, giving him one last chance.  "And  I'm

countermanding those orders."

The major took a careful breath. "Yes, sir,"  he  said,  capitulating  at

last. Half turning, he nodded to one of the guards.

The guard, who had also been eyeing the stormtroopers and  had  obviously

already done the math, showed no hesitation whatsoever.  Stepping  quickly  to

the cell door behind him, he keyed it open and moved smartly aside.

"Wait here,'' Pellaeon told the stormtrooper commander, rounding the desk

and stepping into the cell, his pulse pounding  in  his  neck.  If  Disra  had

somehow managed to get word here through the transmission blockade and ordered

all witnesses disposed of...

Seated at a small table, a hand of single sabacc laid  out  in  front  of

him, Colonel Vermel looked up, his eyes widening in  astonishment.  "Admiral!"

he said, clearly not sure he believed it. "I?"

Abruptly, he scrambled to his feet. "Colonel Meizh Vermel,  Admiral,"  he

said briskly. "Request permission to return to duty, sir."

"Request granted, Colonel," Pellaeon said,  not  bothering  to  hide  his

relief. "And may I say how pleased I am to find you looking so well."

"Thank you, Admiral," Vermel said, heaving a sigh of relief of his own as

he stepped around the table. "I hope you didn't come alone."

"Don't worry," Pellaeon assured him grimly, waving  Vermel  to  the  cell

door. "I haven't exactly taken over Rimcee Station; but my men are in position

to do so if any of Disra's people take exception to our leaving."

"Yes, sir," Vermel said, throwing an odd look back at  him.  "Regardless,

may I suggest we hurry?"

"My sentiments  exactly,"  Pellaeon  agreed,  frowning.  There  had  been

something in that look...

They passed the major and the guard station without  comment  and  headed

around the corner. The stormtroopers, as per Pellaeon's earlier  instructions,

fell into full escort array with twelve each front and rear. "You didn't sound

very confident when  I  mentioned  Disra's  people  a  minute  ago,"  Pellaeon

commented as they headed down the long corridor.

"It may not be Disra's authority you'll have to go up against,  Admiral,"

Vermel said, moving a bit  closer  to  Pellaeon  as  if  worried  about  being

overheard. "When Captain Dorja brought me aboard after intercepting my ship at

Morishim, he said he'd been personally ordered  to  do  so  by  Grand  Admiral

Thrawn."

Pellaeon felt his throat tighten. "Thrawn."

"Yes, sir," Vermel said. "I've been hoping it  was  just  some  trick  of

Disra's?I remember you mentioning how totally against  these  peace  talks  he

was. But Dorja seemed so sure."

"Yes," Pellaeon murmured. "I've heard some of those rumors  myself.  He's

allegedly been seen by various people in the New Republic, too."

Vermel was silent a moment. "But you haven't actually seen him yourself?"

"No." Pellaeon braced himself. "But I think it's time I  did,"  he  said.

"If he has indeed returned."

"You might be in trouble with him for pulling me out," Vermel pointed out

reluctantly, glancing back over his shoulder. "Perhaps it would be better if I

went back."

"No," Pellaeon said firmly. "Thrawn never punished his officers for doing

what they sincerely thought was right. Especially when he  hadn't  given  them

orders or the necessary information to understand otherwise."

They reached the end of the corridor  and  turned  into  the  main  guard

nexus. The guards and officers were still  sitting  where  Pellaeon  had  left

them, glowering under the silently watchful eye of yet another  contingent  of

the Chimaera's stormtroopers. "No, we're going to go back to Bastion  and  see

what Moff Disra has to say about  all  this,"  he  continued  as  they  passed

through the nexus and headed toward the landing bay where their shuttles  were

berthed. "If the rumors are false, then we should have no further trouble with

Moff Disra. Commander Dreyf and I have obtained a set of datacards?in  Disra's

personal encrypt, no less?that lays out his entire operation:  names,  places,

and deals, including all his links to the Cavrilhu Pirates and  various  shady

financiers on both sides of the border."

He felt his face harden. "And including the details  of  his  efforts  to

incite civil war within the New Republic. That alone should be worth  a  great

deal to us in any future negotiations with Coruscant. It  will  certainly  put

Disra away for a long time."

"Yes, sir," Vermel murmured. "And if the rumors are true?"

Pellaeon swallowed. "If the rumors are true, we'll deal with them then."

Vermel nodded. "Yes, sir."

"In the meantime," Pellaeon went on conversationally, "your  last  report

is far overdue. I'd like to hear exactly what happened at Morishim."

CHAPTER

31

The preparations had taken six hours: six hours of frantic work as  every

flight-worthy spaceship on Exocron was hurriedly fitted  out  for  battle.  It

took another hour to get the whole  ensemble  into  space,  and  one  more  to

arrange them into something resembling a  combat  perimeter.  And  with  that,

their estimated eight-hour grace period was over.

And now, with the entire Rei'Kas pirate gang on its way, the most pitiful

defense fleet Shada had ever seen stood by in trembling  readiness  to  defend

its world or die trying.

Most likely, to die trying.

"Report from ground, Adm'ral David," Chin reported from the Wild Karrde's

bridge comm station, looking over at the helm. "Supreme Adm'ral Darr  says  we

all in good position. Also says Airfleet ships ready if pirates get past."

Looming over Dankin, his hands clasped stiffly behind his  back,  Admiral

Trey David nodded. "Very good," he said, his formal tone nevertheless  hinting

at a great deal of energy below the surface. "Signal the rest of the fleet  to

be ready. They could be here at any moment."

"Oh, my," Threepio said miserably  from  beside  Shada  at  the  spotting

station. "I do so hate space combat."

"I can't argue with you on this one,"  Shada  agreed,  looking  over  her

status board. She  had  wondered  at  first?wondered  with  a  great  deal  of

suspicion, actually?why Admiral David would ask to direct the battle from  the

Wild Karrde instead of one of Exocron's own combat ships. But  her  subsequent

assessment of those ships and their capabilities  had  unfortunately  provided

her with the answer.

Eight hours ago, she had snidely suggested to Entoo Nee that the  Exocron

space force might find anything more formidable than  an  occasional  smuggler

beyond its strength. Never before  in  her  life  had  one  of  her  offhanded

comments nailed the truth so accurately.

There was a brush of air beside her. "It becomes  a  waiting  game  now,"

Karrde said, kneeling down beside her seat. "What do you think?"

"We haven't got a chance," Shada told him bluntly.  "Not  unless  Rei'Kas

doesn't bother to send anything bigger than the Corsairs he  hit  us  with  at

Dayark."

She thought she'd spoken quietly enough for only Karrde  to  hear.  David

apparently had good ears. "No, he'll bring everything  he  has,"  the  admiral

assured her. "His full armada, with himself at the head of it. He's wanted  to

get his hands on Exocron's wealth for a long time."

He smiled tightly. "Besides which, I understand from Entoo Nee  that  you

gave him something of a bruised eye at Dayark. For the revenge part alone he'd

be sure to be here."

Shada felt Karrde's silent sigh as a breath of warm  air  on  her  cheek.

"Which may ultimately give us our only real  chance,"  he  said.  "If  we  can

pretend to start running, we may be able to draw enough of them away for  your

forces to deal with the rest."

"Possibly," David agreed. "Not that that  would  do  us  personally  much

good, of course."

"It's my fault he's here," Karrde reminded him. "It's not  too  late  for

you to transfer to one of the other ships?"

At the  sensor  station,  H'sishi  suddenly  snarled.  [They  come,]  she

announced. [Three Sienar Marauder-class Corvettes, four Duapherm Discril-class

Attack  Cruisers,  four  combat-modified  CSA  Etti  Lighter  freighters,  and

eighteen Corsair-class attack vessels.]

"Confirmed," Shada said, running her eyes over her spotting  displays,  a

sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The Wild Karrde could take any  one

of those ships or give any two of  them  a  decent  fight.  But  all  of  them

together...

"Stand by turbolasers," Karrde said, rising to his feet beside her.

"Turbolasers standing by," Shada confirmed, keying targeting  information

over to the three weapons stations. Just because it was hopeless  didn't  mean

they shouldn't do their best. "Looks like the Corsairs are forming up a screen

around the bigger ships."

"Cap't?" Chin called from the comm. "We getting  call  from  one  of  the

Marauders.

You want make him an answer?"

Shada could feel Karrde tense. "Yes, go ahead," he said.

Chin keyed the comm?"Hey,  there,  Karrde,"  a  familiar  gloating  voice

boomed from the bridge speaker. "I told you you'd  see  me  again  before  you

died, didn't I?"

"Yes, Xern, you did," Karrde agreed, his  voice  betraying  none  of  the

tension Shada knew he was feeling. "I'm surprised  you're  still  alive  after

that fiasco at Dayark. Rei'Kas must be going soft in his old age."

From the background came a distant flurry of Rodian  invective.  "Rei'Kas

says he'll maybe save you for last for that one," Xern said. "You  like  that,

huh?"

Across the bridge, David cleared his throat. "Rei'Kas,  this  is  Admiral

Trey David of the Exocron Combined Air-Space Fleet," he said.

"Oh, an admiral, huh?" Xern said sarcastically. "You mean this collection

of scrap rates a whole admiral?"

"You're in violation of Exocron space," David said calmly,  ignoring  the

insult.

"This is your last chance to withdraw peaceably."

Xern laughed. "Oh, that's rich. That's really rich. We definitely got  to

save you for last. Then we can gut you all and feed you to the scavengers."

There was another burst of Rodian. "Hey, we got  to  go,  Karrde?time  to

make the big scrap into lots of little scrap. See you later, Admiral."

The comm  keyed  off.  "They're  sure  well  stocked  in  the  confidence

department, aren't they?" Shada murmured.

"Yes," Karrde said. His hand brushed past her shoulder,  hesitated,  then

came back almost reluctantly to rest there. "I'm sorry, Shada," he  said,  his

voice just loud enough for her to hear. "I should never have brought you  into

this."

"It's all right," Shada said. So  this  was  it:  the  end  of  the  long

journey. Back at the Orowood Tower, facing the Noghri and their blasters,  she

had been ready to die. Had almost hoped they would overreact and kill her,  in

fact. The easy way out, she had thought then.

Now, facing the incoming pirates, she realized that there  were  no  easy

ways out.

No way of dying that  didn't  involve  abandoning  a  responsibility,  or

leaving necessary work undone?

She glanced up at Karrde, gazing out the viewport, his face set  in  hard

lines.

Or, indeed, of leaving friends behind.

Distantly, she wondered when in all of this she had started to  think  of

Karrde as a friend.

She didn't know. But it didn't matter. What mattered was doing their best

to clean up the mess they'd created here. Shifting her attention back  to  her

displays, she began tagging primary and secondary targets. The  leading  ships

were almost in range...

"Signal to all ships," Admiral David announced. "Pull back. Repeat:  pull

back."

Shada flashed him a frown. "What?"

"I said pull back," David repeated, flashing an almost  curious  look  at

her in return. "Which part didn't you understand?"

Shada started to say something  blistering;  choked  it  back  as  Karrde

squeezed her shoulder warningly. "She was thinking about  the  fact  that  the

Wild Karrde isn't as maneuverable close in to a gravitational field as  it  is

in open space," he told David. "Neither are most of the ships in your fleet."

"Understood," David said. "The order remains. Pull back."

"Chief?" Dankin asked.

Shada glanced up again. Karrde was looking at David,  measuring  the  man

with his eyes.  "Transmit  the  order,  Chin,"  he  said,  his  tone  suddenly

thoughtful. "Dankin, go ahead and retreat, but keep us in formation  with  the

other ships. Shada, have the gunners lay down covering fire."

"Right." Shada keyed her intercom, her eyes searching the displays as she

tried to figure out what was going on. The usual tactical reason  for  pulling

back toward a planetary surface was to lure an enemy within  range  of  either

ground-based weapons or a surface-launched ambush. But every ship Exocron  had

was already up here, and H'sishi's sensor probes would certainly  have  picked

up any ground weaponry powerful enough to reach this far into space.

The fleet was beginning to move now, backing toward Exocron  as  ordered.

Some of the armed civilian ships were already firing uselessly at the Corsairs

arrowing silently in at them, wasting energy on  out-of-range  targets.  Shada

looked at David, but either he hadn't noticed or didn't especially  care  what

they did.

Were  the  civilians  nothing  but  sacrificial  lures  to   him?   "Keep

retreating," he said instead. "All ships."

The Corsairs were nearly in range, the larger warships formed  up  behind

them now in a straightforward assault line.  Little  wonder;  considering  the

opposition, there was no need for them to  try  anything  fancy.  A.  straight

slice through the ships arrayed against them, then  probably  a  low  strafing

loop over Exocron's major  population  centers,  taking  out  Supreme  Admiral

Darr's pitiful Airfleet along the way...

"Keep retreating," David said again. "Tactical display, please."

H'sishi hissed acknowledgment and  the  tactical  overlay  came  up.  The

defenders were all well within Exocron's gravity field now, far too  late  for

any of them to change their minds and try to escape to  hyperspace.  Was  that

what David was going for? Shada wondered. Putting them  in  a  position  where

they had no choice but to fight to the death?

Even as that disturbing thought occurred to her, the last of the  pirates

passed within  that  invisible  boundary,  as  well.  They  were  all  totally

committed to this battle now. Neither the attackers nor the defenders would be

leaving Exocron until one side or the other had been destroyed.

"Here they come," David murmured.

Shada looked at him, a bitter retort bubbling in her  throat.  Of  course

they were coming?

And abruptly, H'sishi snarled in disbelief.

Shada snapped her attention back to the viewport. The pirates were  still

there, still coming.

But they weren't the  ones  David  had  been  referring  to.  Behind  the

pirates' line, something else had appeared.

It was a spaceship, of course. But it was a ship like nothing  Shada  had

ever seen. Roughly ovoid, half again as big as the Marauders, it  was  covered

with thick hull plates that gave it the appearance of some sort of armored sea

creature. Conical projections, possibly exhaust ports or thruster pods, jutted

out from the hull with no  symmetry  or  pattern  that  Shada  could  spot.  A

magnified image popped up on one of the displays, showing an  intricate  array

of symbols and alien glyphs covering the hull. At close range, the hull itself

looked disturbingly like something alive...

Someone on the bridge swore, very quietly. Shada looked at  the  viewport

again, just in time to see three more of the ships wink  into  existence.  Not

jump  in,  with  the  characteristic  flicker  of  pseudomotion  of  a  normal

hyperspace jump, but simply appear.

And then, almost casually, the first alien ship drove up  behind  one  of

Rei'Kas's Marauders; and with a  glittering,  filigreed  sheet  of  blue-green

energy discharge sliced it in half.

H'sishi snarled. [What are these?] she demanded.

"They're called the Aing-Tii monks,"  David  said,  his  tone  a  strange

mixture of satisfaction and awe. "Alien beings who spend most of  their  lives

near the Kathol Rift. There's not a lot we know about them."

"Yet  they're  coming  to  your   aid,"   Karrde   pointed   out.   "More

significantly, you knew they would."

"They hate slavers," David said. "Rei'Kas is a slaver. It's very simple."

A second Marauder flashed with fire and streaming air as one of the other

Aing-Tii ships sent another of the strange flower-blossoms of  energy  through

its side.

Ahead of the wrecked ships, the confident battle line  collapsed  as  the

remaining attackers swung around to face this new threat that had appeared  so

unexpectedly behind them. But to no avail. The Aing-Tii ships shrugged off the

frantic turbolaser fire with ease as they  systematically  drove  through  the

attackers' ranks, cutting up the larger ships and crushing  the  smaller  ones

against their own hulls.

"I'm afraid it's not quite that simple, Admiral," Karrde said  to  David.

"According to Bombaasa, Rei'Kas has been setting up in this area for the  past

year. Why did your Aing-Tii wait this long to move against them?"

"As I said, they prefer to stay near the Rift,"  David  said.  "It  takes

something special to make them come out even as far as Exocron."

"In other words," Karrde  said  quietly,  "you  needed  someone  to  lure

Rei'Kas into their territory. And that someone was us."

David didn't move, but Shada could see a subtle new tension  now  in  his

face and posture. Perhaps wondering what would happen to him if a bridge  full

of hardened smugglers decided to be offended at having been used as bait.  "It

was your actions we used, Captain Karrde," he said. "Your decision to come  to

Exocron, and your inability to keep Rei'Kas's people  from  tracking  you.  It

wasn't you personally we were using."

His eyes flicked around the bridge. "Not any of you."

For a long moment the  bridge  was  silent.  Shada  looked  back  at  the

viewport, to find the destruction of the pirates nearly complete.  Only  three

of the Aing-Tii were visible now, and as she watched another  of  them  winked

out, leaving as mysteriously as it had  arrived.  The  last  two  alien  ships

stayed just long enough to finish their task before they too vanished into the

darkness.

"You say we" Karrde said. "Is that just you and the rest of  the  Exocron

military?"

"That's an odd question,"  David  said  obliquely.  "Who  else  could  be

involved?"

"Who, indeed?" Karrde murmured. "Chin, open a transmission  frequency  to

the surface. Threepio, I want a message translated into Old Tarmidian for me."

Shada looked up  at  him.  Karrde's  face  was  carved  from  stone,  his

expression  unreadable.  "Old  Tarmidian?"  she  asked,  frowning.  "Car'das's

language?"

He nodded. "Here's the message,  Threepio:  'This  is  Karrde.  I'd  like

permission to come down and see you again.' "

"Of course, Captain  Karrde,"  Threepio  said,  moving  uncertainly  over

toward the comm station. Chin nodded, and the droid leaned over his  shoulder.

"Merirao Karrde tuliak," he said. "Mu parril'an se'tuffriad moa sug po'porai?"

He looked back at Karrde. "You understand, of course, that there may  not

be an answer for some time?"

"Se'po brus tai," a voice boomed from the speaker, making the droid jump.

A strong, vibrant voice, with no  hint  of  weakness  or  illness.  Shada

looked up at Karrde again, to find his stonelike expression had hardened  even

further. "Translation?" he asked.

Threepio seemed to brace himself. "He said, sir... come ahead."

* * *

Entoo Nee was waiting for them as the  Wild  Karrde  put  down  again  in

Circle 15 of the Rintatta City landing field. His casual manner, his  cheerful

chatter, and the landspeeder ride along with Shada  and  Threepio  toward  the

pale blue house against  the  mountain  were  like  a  ghostly  repetition  of

Karrde's last trip through the area a few hours earlier.

But there was one big difference. Then, the driving emotions  behind  his

mood had been fear and dread and the morbid contemplation of his  own  looming

death. Now...

Now, he wasn't sure  what  his  mood  was.  Puzzlement  and  uncertainty,

perhaps, tinged with a hint of resentment at having been twitched along like a

puppet.

And overlaying it all a renewed haze of dread. Car'das, he couldn't  help

remembering, had always spoken fondly of predators who played with their  prey

before finally killing them.

The blue house itself was unchanged, just as old and sagging and dusty as

it had been before. But as Entoo Nee led the way to the bedroom  door,  Karrde

noted that the odor of age and sickness had vanished.

And this time the door opened by  itself  as  they  approached.  Steeling

himself, only vaguely aware that Shada had deftly inserted a shoulder in front

of him, the two of them together stepped through the door.

The built-in shelves, with  all  their  useless  knickknacks  and  exotic

medical supplies, were gone. The sickbed and its stacks of blankets were gone.

And standing where the bed had been, still just as old but now as vitally

alive as he had been feeble then, was Jorj Car'das.

"Hello, Karrde," Car'das  said,  the  vast  network  of  facial  wrinkles

shifting as he smiled. "It's good to see you again."

"Not that it's been all that long," Karrde said stiffly. "I  congratulate

you on your amazing recovery."

The smile didn't even falter. "You're angry with me, of course,"  Car'das

said calmly. "I understand that. But it'll  all  become  clear  soon.  In  the

meantime?"

He half turned and waved at the back wall; and abruptly the wall  was  no

longer there. In its place was a long tunnel  equipped  with  four  guiderails

that faded off into the distance. Just beyond where  the  wall  had  been,  an

enclosed quadrail car was waiting. "Let me take you across to my  real  home,"

Car'das continued. "It's much more comfortable than this place."

He waved a hand toward the car, and a side door swung invitingly open  in

response. "Please; after you."

Karrde looked at the open door, an odd  tightness  squeezing  his  heart.

Predators playing with their prey... "Why don't just you and I go?" he offered

instead. "Shada and Threepio can return to the Wild Karrde?"

"No," Shada cut him  off  firmly.  "You  want  to  show  someone  around,

Car'das, you take me. Then if?if?I decide it's  safe,  I'll  consider  letting

Karrde join us."

"Really," Car'das said, regarding her with such  obvious  amusement  that

Karrde found himself cringing. Being amused at someone like  Shada  wasn't  an

especially healthy thing to do. "Such quick  and  short-tempered  loyalty  you

inspire in your people, Karrde."

"She's not one of my people," Karrde told him quickly. "She was asked  to

come along by High Councilor Leia Organa Solo of the  New  Republic.  She  has

absolutely nothing to do with me, or with anything I might have  done  in  the

past?"

"Please," Car'das interrupted, holding up a hand. "I admit this is highly

entertaining to watch. But in all  seriousness,  you're  both  worrying  about

nothing."

He looked Karrde straight in the eye. "I'm not the  man  you  once  knew,

Talon," he said quietly. "Please give me the chance to prove that."

Karrde let his eyes drift  away  from  that  unblinking  gaze.  Predators

playing with their prey...

But if Car'das truly wanted them dead, it didn't  really  matter  whether

they played along or not. "All right," he said. "Come on, Shada."

"Excuse me, sir?" Threepio spoke up hesitantly. "I presume you  won't  be

needing me any further?"

"No, no, please," Car'das said, waving the droid forward.  "I'd  love  to

sit down later and have a chat with you?it's been such a long time since  I've

had anyone I could speak Old Tarmidian with." He smiled  over  at  Entoo  Nee.

"Entoo Nee tries, but it's not the same."

"Not really, no," Entoo Nee conceded regretfully.

"So please join us," Car'das added to Threepio. "By the  way,  you  don't

also happen to know the Cincher dialectory, do you?"

Threepio seemed to brighten. "Of  course  I  do,  sir,"  he  said,  pride

temporarily superseding nervousness. "I am fluent in over six million?"

"Excellent," Car'das said. "Let's be going, then."

A minute later they were all in the quadrail car, speeding smoothly  down

the tunnel. "I mostly keep to myself  these  days,"  Car'das  commented,  "but

occasionally I still need to deal with Exocron officialdom. I use  that  house

back there for such meetings.  It's  convenient  and  keeps  them  from  being

overawed by my real home."

"They know who you are?" Shada asked, her tone just short of a demand. "I

mean, who you really are?"

Car'das shrugged. "They have bits and pieces of my past," he  said.  "But

as you'll soon see, much of that history is now irrelevant."

"Well, before we get to history, let's try some  current  events,"  Shada

said. "Starting with these Aing-Tii monks of yours. David can spin  his  anti-

slaver slant all he wants, but we all know there's more to it than  that.  You

called them in, didn't you?"

"The Aing-Tii and I have had  some  dealings  together,"  Car'das  agreed

soberly, his wrinkled face thoughtful. Abruptly he smiled. "But that's history

again, isn't it? All in its proper time."

"Fine," Shada said. "Let's try again. David says you  didn't  use  us  to

lure Rei'Kas in. I say you did."

Car'das looked at Karrde. "I like her, Talon," he declared.  "She  has  a

fine spirit." He shifted  his  eyes  to  Shada.  "I  don't  suppose  you'd  be

interested in a new job, would you?"

"I wasted a dozen years with a smuggling gang, Car'das,"  Shada  growled.

"I'm not interested in joining another."

"Ah," he said with a nod. "Forgive me. Here we are."

The tunnel had come to an end in  a  small,  well-lighted  room.  Car'das

popped the door and bounded out as the  quadrail  slid  smoothly  to  a  stop.

"Come, come," he urged the others. "You're going to love  this  place,  Talon,

you really are. All ready? Let's go."

Almost bouncing with  childlike  anticipation,  he  led  the  way  to  an

archway-topped door. He waved his hand as he approached; and as  the  wall  at

the blue house had done, the door simply vanished.

And stretched out beyond the doorway was a dream world.

Karrde stepped through, his first impression being that they had  stepped

out into the open air into a meticulously tended garden. Directly in front  of

them was a wide expanse of flowers and small plants and shrubs, all  carefully

and artistically arranged, stretching for perhaps a hundred  meters  ahead  of

them. A winding path led through the garden, with stone benches set at various

points along it. At its side edges the garden gave way to  a  forest  of  tall

trees of dozens of different species, with leaves  whose  colors  varied  from

dark blue to brilliant red. From somewhere within the forest came the bubbling

sound of water running over a rock-bottomed creek, but from their position  he

couldn't see where it was.

It wasn't until he followed the tallest trees up to their  tops  that  he

spotted the sky-blue dome above them. A dome that flowed down into unobtrusive

walls behind the stands of trees...

"Yes, it's all inside," Car'das confirmed. "Very much  inside,  in  fact?

we're under one of the mountains to the  east  of  Rintatta  City.  Beautiful,

isn't it?"

"You tend it yourself?" Karrde asked.

"I do most of the work," Car'das said, starting forward toward the  path.

"But there are a few others, as well. This way."

He led them through the garden to  a  concealed  door  between  two  red-

trunked trees on the far side. "Must have  been  some  job  putting  all  this

together," Shada commented as the door again vanished at a wave  of  Car'das's

hand. "Your Aing-Tii friends help?"

"In an indirect way, yes," Car'das said. "This is my  conversation  room.

As beautiful as the garden, in its own way."

"Yes," Karrde agreed, looking around. The conversation room was laid  out

in more or less classic High Alderaanian style,  done  up  in  dark  wood  and

intertwined plants, with the same  feeling  of  expansiveness  as  the  garden

outside. "What did you mean by indirect help?"

"It's rather ironic, really,"  Car'das  said,  angling  off  through  the

conversation room toward a door to their right. "When I arrived on  Exocron  I

started building my home under these mountains purely for  defensive  reasons.

Now that defense is no longer an issue, I find  I  enjoy  the  place  for  its

solitude."

Karrde glanced at Shada. Defense no longer an issue?  "Was  Rei'Kas  that

much of a threat?"

Car'das frowned. "Rei'Kas? Oh, no, Talon, you misunderstand. Rei'Kas  was

a threat, certainly, but only to the rest of Exocron. I helped get rid of  him

in order to protect my neighbors, but I myself was in no danger at all.  Come;

you'll particularly want to see this."

He waved the door away, and gestured them forward. Karrde stepped inside?

And stopped in amazement. He was standing at the outer rim of a  circular

room that appeared to be even bigger across than the garden they'd just  left.

The floor of the room dipped, amphitheater fashion, toward the  center,  where

he could see the edge of what looked like a work  station  or  computer  desk.

Arrayed in concentric circles around  the  desk,  with  only  narrow  walkways

separating them, were circle after circle of two-meter-high data cases.

And filling each of the shelves on each of the data cases were datacards.

Thousands and thousands of datacards.

"Knowledge, Talon," Car'das said quietly from beside  him.  "Information.

My passion, once; my weapon and my defense and my comfort." He shook his head.

"Amazing, isn't  it,  what  we  sometimes  persuade  ourselves  are  the  most

important things in life."

"Yes," Karrde murmured. Car'das's library... and the Caamas Document.

"So Entoo Nee lied to us," Shada spoke up, the edge in her voice  cutting

into Karrde's sense of wonder. "He said he didn't know what happened  to  your

library."

"Entoo Nee?" Car'das called. "Did you lie to them?"

"Not at all, Jorj," Entoo Nee's distant voice protested from behind them.

Karrde turned, to see the little man still on the far side of the conversation

room, busying himself with drinks. "I merely said that whatever you  had  done

with it had been done before I came to be in your service."

"Which is perfectly true," Car'das agreed, gesturing them back out of the

library. "But come sit down. I know you have so many questions."

"Let me start with the most important one," Karrde said, not moving. "The

reason we came here was to look for a vitally important  historical  document.

It involves?"

"Yes, I know," Car'das said with a sigh. "The Caamas Document."

"You know about that?" Shada asked.

"I'm not the frail bedridden old man you met a few  hours  ago,"  Car'das

reminded her mildly. "I still have a few sources of information, and I try  to

keep  in  touch  with  what's  happening  back  home."  He  shook  his   head.

"Unfortunately, I can't help you. As soon as the Caamas matter first  broke  I

checked through all my files to see if I had a copy. But I'm afraid I don't."

Karrde felt his heart sink. "You're absolutely sure?"

Car'das nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry."

Karrde nodded back. After all the work and danger in getting here,  there

it was.

The end of the road; and at its finish, an empty hand.

Shada wasn't ready to let it go quite that easily. "And what if  you  had

found a copy?" she demanded. "You can talk  all  you  want  about  keeping  in

touch, but the fact is that for the past twenty years you've  been  taking  it

easy out here and letting everyone else do all the work."

Car'das lifted  his  eyebrows.  "Suspicious  and  unforgiving  both,"  he

commented. "That's rather sad. Isn't there anyone or anything you trust?"

"I'm a professional bodyguard," Shada bit out. "Trust isn't part  of  the

job. And don't try to change the subject. You sat out the whole Rebellion, not

to mention Thrawn's first bid for power. Why?"

Something  unreadable  flicked  across  Car'das's  face.   "Thrawn,"   he

murmured, his eyes sweeping slowly around his  library.  "A  most  interesting

person, indeed. I have most of his history with the Empire on file here?pulled

it all out recently, reading through it. There's more to his story than  meets

the eye?I'm convinced of it. Far more."

"You still haven't answered my question," Shada said.

Car'das lifted his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware you'd asked one,"  he  said.

"All I heard were accusations that I'd been letting others do  all  the  work.

But if that was intended as a question..." He smiled. "I suppose it's true, in

a way. But only in a way. I've merely let others do  their  work,  while  I've

been doing mine.

But come?Entoo Nee's rusc'te will be getting cold."

He led the way across the conversation room to the sunken  circle.  Entoo

Nee was waiting patiently there, his now loaded tray set on  a  pillar  table.

"What have you told the lady about me, Talon?" Car'das asked  as  he  gestured

the two of them to seats on one side of the circle. "Just to  avoid  repeating

things."

"I've told her the basics," Karrde said, gingerly sitting  down.  Despite

all of the geniality and surface friendliness, he couldn't shake  the  feeling

that there was something more going on beneath the surface. "How  you  started

the organization, then abruptly left twenty years ago."

"And did you tell her about my kidnapping by  the  Bpfasshi  Dark  Jedi?"

Car'das asked, his tone suddenly odd. "That's where it all really began."

Karrde threw a glance at Shada. "I mentioned it, yes."

Car'das sighed, not looking up at Entoo Nee as the latter put a  steaming

cup into his hands. "It was a terrible experience," he  said  quietly,  gazing

into the cup. "Possibly the first time in my life I'd felt truly and genuinely

terrified.

He was half mad with rage?maybe more than  half  mad?with  all  of  Darth

Vader's power and none of his self-control. One of my  crewmen  he  physically

ripped to shreds, literally tearing his body apart. The other  three  he  took

over mentally, twisting and searing their minds and turning them  into  little

more than living extensions of himself. Me?"

He took a careful sip of his  drink.  "Me,  he  left  mostly  alone,"  he

continued. "I'm still not sure  why,  unless  he  thought  he  might  need  my

knowledge of ports and spacelanes to make his escape.  Or  perhaps  he  simply

wanted an intact mind left aboard who could recognize his power and  greatness

and be properly frightened by it."

He sipped again. "We headed across the spacelanes,  dodging  or  avoiding

the forces gathering against him. I thought up scheme after scheme  to  defeat

him as we traveled, none of which ever made it past the planning stage for the

simple reason that he knew about each of them almost before I did. I  got  the

feeling that my pitiful efforts greatly amused him.

"Finally, for reasons I still don't entirely understand, we  made  for  a

little backwater system not even important enough to make it onto most of  the

charts. A planet with nothing but swamps and dank forests and frozen slush.

"A planet named Dagobah."

There was a whiff of some exotic spice from Karrde's side, and he  looked

up to see Entoo Nee  hand  him  his  cup.  The  little  man's  usual  cheerful

expression had vanished, replaced by a profound seriousness Karrde  had  never

seen in him before.

"I don't know if the Dark Jedi expected to  be  all  alone  down  there,"

Car'das went on. "But if he did, he  was  quickly  disappointed.  We'd  barely

stepped outside the ship when we spotted a funny-looking little creature  with

big, pointed ears standing at the edge of the clearing where we'd put down.

"He was a Jedi Master named Yoda. I don't know whether that was his home,

or whether he had just flown in specially for the occasion. What I do know  is

that he was definitely waiting for us."

An odd shiver ran through Car'das's thin body. "I won't try  to  describe

their battle," he said in  a  low  voice.  "Even  after  forty-five  years  of

thinking about it, I'm not sure I can. For nearly a day and a half  the  swamp

blazed with fire and lightning and things I still don't understand. At the end

of it the Dark Jedi was dead, disintegrating in a final, massive blaze of blue

fire."

He took a shuddering breath. "None of my crew survived that  battle.  Not

that there was much left of what  they'd  been  anyway.  I  didn't  expect  to

survive, either. But to my surprise, Yoda took it upon  himself  to  nurse  me

back to life."

Karrde nodded. "I've seen a little of what Luke  Skywalker  can  do  with

healing trances," he said. "Better than bacta in some cases."

Car'das snorted. "In my case bacta would have been  completely  useless,"

he stated flatly. "As it was, it took Yoda quite  a  while  to  return  me  to

health. I still don't know how long. Afterward I was able to jury-rig the ship

well enough to get it spaceworthy and limp home.

"It wasn't until I was back with the organization that I began to realize

that, somewhere in that whole procedure, some part of me had been changed."

He looked at Karrde. "I'm sure you remember,  Talon.  I  seemed  to  have

gained the ability to outthink my  opponents?to  guess  their  strategies  and

plans, to know when one of them was planning a move against  me.  Abilities  I

assumed I'd somehow absorbed from Yoda during the healing process."

He looked up at the ceiling, a new fire  in  his  eyes  and  voice.  "And

suddenly, there were no limits to what I could do. None. I began expanding the

organization, swallowing up any  group  that  seemed  potentially  useful  and

eliminating  everyone  that  didn't.  Victory  after  victory  after  victory?

everywhere I went I conquered. I saw the Hutts' criminal cartels  and  planned

how I would take them down; foresaw the  gathering  of  power  around  Senator

Palpatine and considered where and how I could best  insert  myself  into  the

coming struggle for my own advantage. There was literally nothing  that  could

stop me, and I and the universe both knew it."

Abruptly, the fire faded away. "And  then,"  he  said  quietly,  "without

warning, everything suddenly collapsed."

He took a long drink from his cup. "What happened?" Shada asked into  the

silence.

Karrde stole a look at her, mildly surprised at the intense concentration

in her expression. Despite all her professed distrust of Car'das himself,  she

clearly found his story riveting.

"My health fell apart," Car'das said. "Over a period of just a few weeks,

all the youth and vigor that Yoda's healing had woven into my body  seemed  to

evaporate." He looked at Shada. "Very simply, I was dying."

Karrde nodded, the last mystery of that beckon call  lying  abandoned  in

the Dagobah swamp suddenly falling into place. "And so you went back  to  Yoda

and asked for help."

"Asked?" Car'das gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. "Not asked, Talon.

Demanded."

He shook his head at the memory.  "It  must  have  looked  quite  absurd,

really.

There I stood, towering over him with a blaster in one hand and my beckon

call in the other, threatening to bring my ship and all its  awesome  weaponry

to bear on this short, wizened creature leaning on a staff in front of me.  Of

course, I was the single-handed creator of the greatest smuggling organization

of all time, while he was nothing but a simple little Jedi Master."  He  shook

his head again.

"I'm surprised he didn't kill you on the spot," Shada said.

"At the time, I almost wished he had," Car'das said ruefully.  "It  would

have been far less humiliating. Instead, he simply took the  beckon  call  and

blaster away from me and sent them spinning off into the swamp, then  held  me

suspended a few centimeters above the ground and let me scream and flail to my

heart's content.

"And when I finally ran out of strength and breath,  he  told  me  I  was

going to die."

Entoo Nee stepped to his side, silently pouring more of the  spice  drink

into his cup. "I thought the first part had been  humiliating,"  Car'das  went

on. "The next part was worse. As I sat there panting on a  rock,  swamp  water

seeping into my boots, he told me in exquisitely painful detail just how badly

I'd squandered the gift of life he'd  given  back  to  me  a  quarter  century

earlier. How my utterly selfish pursuit of personal power  and  aggrandizement

had left me empty of spirit and vacant of purpose."

He looked at Karrde. "By the time he finished, I knew I  could  never  go

back.

That I could never, ever face any of you again."

Karrde looked down at his cup, suddenly aware he was gripping it tightly.

"Then you didn't... I mean, you weren't..."

"Angry with you?" Car'das smiled at him. "On the  contrary,  old  friend:

you were the single bright spot in the whole painful mess. For the first  time

since I'd left Dagobah, I found myself thinking about all  the  people  in  my

organization.

People who I'd now abandoned to the viciousness of internecine warfare as

my lieutenants, most of them as selfish as I was, fought for their  individual

slices of the fat bruallki I'd created."

He shook his head, his old eyes almost misty.  "I  didn't  hate  you  for

taking over, Talon. Far from it. You held the organization together,  treating

my people with the dignity and respect they deserved. The dignity and  respect

I'd never bothered to give them. You  transformed  my  selfish  ambition  into

something to be proud of... and for twenty years I've wanted to thank you  for

that."

And to Karrde's surprise, he stood up and crossed the circle. "Thank you,

" he said simply, holding out his hand.

Karrde stood up, a terrible weight lifting from  his  shoulders.  "You're

welcome," he murmured, gripping the extended hand.  "I  just  wish  I'd  known

sooner."

"I know," Car'das said, letting go and returning to his seat. "But  as  I

said, for the first few years I was too ashamed to even  face  you.  And  then

later, when your Mara Jade  and  Lando  Calrissian  came  sniffing  around,  I

assumed you would soon be showing up yourself."

"I should have," Karrde conceded. "But I wasn't exactly eager to do so."

"I understand," Car'das said. "It's as much my fault as it was yours." He

waved a hand. "Still, as it turned out, your arrival was just what  we  needed

to eliminate the threat from Rei'Kas and his pirates." He pointed  toward  the

ceiling. "That's one of the many things I've been learning from the  Aing-Tii,

in fact. Though not all is predetermined, all is somehow still being guided. I

still don't quite understand that, but I'm working on it."

"Sounds like something a Jedi would say," Karrde suggested.

"Similar, but not the  same,"  Car'das  agreed.  "The  Aing-Tii  have  an

understanding of the Force; but it's a different understanding  from  that  of

the Jedi. Or perhaps it's merely a different aspect of  the  Force  that  they

relate to. I'm not really sure which.

"Yoda couldn't heal me, you see. Or rather, didn't have the time the task

would require. He told me he needed to prepare for what he said  was  possibly

the most important instruction he had had for the past hundred years."

Karrde nodded, another piece of the  puzzle  falling  into  place.  "Luke

Skywalker."

"Was it him?" Car'das asked. "I've always suspected that, but  was  never

able to confirm he actually trained on Dagobah. At any rate, Yoda said my only

chance to postpone my death was to seek out the Aing-Tii monks of  the  Kathol

Rift, who might?might?be willing to help me."

Karrde gestured toward him. "Obviously, they did."

"Oh, yes, they did," Car'das said, his mouth twisting wryly. "But at what

a price."

Karrde frowned, a shiver running through him. "What kind of price?"

Car'das smiled. "Nothing less than my life, Talon," he said. "My life, to

be spent learning their ways of the Force."

He held up a hand. "Don't misunderstand, please. It wasn't their  demand,

but my choice. All my life, you see, I've relished challenges?the  bigger  the

better.

Once I'd gotten a taste of what they had discovered out here..." He waved

his hand around the room. "It was the biggest challenge I'd  ever  faced.  How

could I pass it up?"

"I thought you needed a certain amount of inborn aptitude to be a  Jedi,"

Shada pointed out.

"A Jedi, perhaps." Car'das nodded. "But as I said, the  Aing-Tii  have  a

different view of the Force. Not in terms of Jedi and Dark Jedi?of  black  and

white, as it were?but in a way I like to think of  as  a  full-color  rainbow.

Here, let me show you. Would you move your tray, please, Entoo Nee?"

The little man picked up the tray, leaving the  pillar  table  empty,  as

Car'das set his cup down on the floor in front of him. "Now watch,"  he  said,

rubbing his hands together. "Let's see if I  can  do  this."  He  settled  his

shoulders and gazed hard at the pillar table...

And abruptly, with a sharp pop of  displaced  air,  a  small  crystalline

decanter appeared.

Karrde jerked violently, his drink sloshing up the side of  his  cup  and

over the edge onto his fingers. Never in any of his dealings with Skywalker or

Mara had he seen anything like that.

"It's all right," Car'das said  hastily.  "I'm  sorry?I  didn't  mean  to

startle you."

"You created that?" Shada asked, her voice sounding stunned.

"No, no, of course not," Car'das assured her. "I merely moved it in  here

from the cooking area. One of the little tricks the Aing-Tii  taught  me.  The

idea is to see the room, and then envision it with the decanter already here?"

He broke off, retrieving his cup and getting to his feet. "I'm  sorry.  I

could go on all day about the Aing-Tii and the Force; but you're  both  tired,

and I'm neglecting my duties as host. Let me show you to your  rooms  and  let

you relax for a while while I see about a meal."

"That's very kind of you," Karrde said, standing up and shaking the drops

of spice drink off his fingers. "But I'm afraid we have to leave. If you can't

provide us with the Caamas Document, we need to start  back  to  New  Republic

space right away."

"I understand your commitments and  obligations,  Talon,"  Car'das  said.

"But you can certainly afford to take one night just to relax."

"I wish we could," Karrde said, trying not to  sound  too  impatient.  "I

really do.

But?"

"Besides, if you leave now, it'll actually take you much  longer  to  get

home," Car'das added. "I've spoken to the Aing-Tii, and they've agreed to send

a ship tomorrow to carry the Wild Karrde anywhere you want to go."

"And how does that gain us anything?" Shada asked.

"It gains you because their star drive  is  considerably  different  from

ours," Car'das told her. "As you may have noticed from the battle. Instead  of

using  the  usual  hyperspace  travel,  their  ships  are  able  to  make   an

instantaneous jump to whatever point they wish to go to."

Karrde looked at Shada. "You were on the spotter scopes," he  said.  "Was

that what they were doing?"

She shrugged. "It's as good an explanation as any," she conceded. "I know

H'sishi scrubbed the data and she  couldn't  figure  out  what  had  happened,

either." She looked suspiciously at Car'das. "So why can't they do this for us

now?"

"Because I told them you wouldn't need the ship until  morning,"  Car'das

said with a smile. "Come now, indulge an old man's desire for  company,  won't

you? I'm sure your crew could use a good night's rest, too, after all  they've

been through on this trip."

Karrde shook his head in defeat. "Still a master manipulator, aren't you,

Jorj?"

The smile widened. "A man can change only so  much,"  he  said  genially.

"And while they're freshening up," he added, shifting his  eyes  to  Threepio,

"you can come help me cook while we have our talk."

"Certainly, sir," Threepio said brightly. "Do you  know,  I  have  become

quite a fair chef during my service to Princess Leia and her family."

"Wonderful," Car'das said.  "Perhaps  you  can  teach  me  some  of  your

culinary expertise. Why don't you call your ship,  Talon,  and  tell  them  to

settle down until morning. And then I'll show you and the lady to your rooms."

CHAPTER

32

The starlines collapsed down into stars;  and  gazing  out  the  Falcon's

viewport, Leia inhaled sharply.

"Councilor?" Elegos asked, frowning at her from the copilot's seat.

Leia pointed out at the planet Bothawui directly ahead. The  planet,  and

the vast armada of warships swarming around it. "It's worse than I thought  it

would be," she said in a low voice. "Look at them all."

"Yes," Elegos said softly. "Ironic, isn't it? All those mighty  ships  of

war, preparing to fight and kill and  die.  Widespread  carnage  arising  from

their deep respect for the Caamasi Remnant."

Leia looked across the cockpit at him. There was a  profound  sadness  in

his face as he stared out at the ships, a sadness tinged with an almost bitter

acceptance of the inevitable. "You've tried to talk  to  them,"  she  reminded

him. "You and the other Trustants. I'm  afraid  they're  beyond  listening  to

reason."

"Reason and calm are always the first casualties of such confrontations."

Elegos gestured toward the gathered warships. "All that's left is  the  thirst

for vengeance and the righting of perceived wrongs. Whether those wrongs exist

at all, or whether the object of the vengeance is responsible for them."

He craned his neck. "Tell me, can we see the comet from here?"

"Comet?" Leia asked, glancing down at her midrange display. There  was  a

comet there, all right, below and to portside, blocked by  the  Falcon's  main

hull.

Rolling the ship a few degrees, she brought it up around and into view.

"Yes?there it is," Elegos said. "Magnificent, isn't it?"

"Yes," Leia agreed. It wasn't as big as some comets she'd seen,  nor  was

its tail much more than average. But its proximity to  the  planet  more  than

made up for its modest size. Still on its way inward toward  its  loop  around

the sun, it had apparently just passed through Bothawui's orbit.

"We rarely saw comets from  Caamas,"  Elegos  said,  his  voice  sounding

distant. "There were few in our system, and none that came nearly so close  to

our world as these planet-skimmers do. There are, what, twenty of them in this

group?"

"Something like that," Leia said. "I remember  hearing  once  that  whole

branches of Bothan folklore had grown up around them."

"Most identifying them as omens of momentous or  terrifying  occurrences,

no doubt," Elegos said.

"Having something like that blaze past overhead  barely  half  a  million

kilometers away would tend to make you worry," Leia agreed.  "Especially  with

them coming by once or twice a year." She grimaced. "Of  course,  with  Bothan

back-stab politics the way they are, momentous and terrifying events  probably

had a hard time keeping up with the comets."

"I imagine so," Elegos said. "I pity them, Councilor. I  really  do.  For

all the strength and mental agility  they  claim  their  political  techniques

provide to their species, I see them as an essentially unhappy  people.  Their

whole outlook on life breeds mistrust; and without  trust,  there  can  be  no

genuine peace.

Neither in politics, nor in the quiet  individuality  of  the  heart  and

spirit."

"I don't think I've ever thought of it quite that way before," Leia said,

rotating the Falcon back to its original attitude and putting the comet  again

out of sight. "Did your people try to enlighten them to all that?"

"I'm sure some of us  did,"  Elegos  said.  "But  I  don't  think  Bothan

resentment toward us was the reason they sabotaged our shields, if that's what

you were wondering."

Leia felt her face flush. "You sure you don't have any Force sensitivity?

"

He smiled. "None at all," he assured her. "But the  Caamasi  Remnant  has

thought long and hard about this puzzle ever since our world's destruction."

He gave a full-body shrug. "My own belief is  that  while  the  saboteurs

were probably threatened or blackmailed into their action by Palpatine or  his

agents, there was something more personal involved.  Some  dark  secret  those

particular Bothans held that they feared the Caamasi knew  and  might  someday

reveal."

"But you don't know what that secret might be?"

Elegos shook his head. "I don't. Others of the Remnant might have learned

that memory, but if so are probably unaware of its significance."

Leia frowned. "Learned the memory?"

"There are certain unique qualities to Caamasi memories,"  he  told  her.

"Someday, perhaps, I'll tell you about them."

"Councilor?" Sakhisakh's voice cut in sharply over the intercom. "Trouble

ahead: twelve degrees by four."

Leia looked out that direction. An Ishori war cruiser on the near edge of

the swarm of ships seemed to  be  drifting  toward  a  pair  of  much  smaller

Sif'krie skiffs. "Looks like he's trying to get into a lower orbit," she said.

"Unfortunately,  that  particular  space  is  already  occupied,"  Elegos

pointed out.

"Yes," Leia agreed, frowning. Odd; despite the hopeless mismatch in  size

and firepower, the skiffs were nevertheless holding their ground...

And suddenly she saw why. Coming up fast on the skiffs' far side  were  a

pair of Diamalan blockade carriers.

Elegos saw them, too. "I believe," he said, "someone has decided to force

the issue."

Leia glanced across the rest of the gathered ships. Others were  starting

to react to the  imminent  confrontation,  starting  to  drift  out  of  their

confining orbital slots or opening fighter bay doors  or  rotating  so  as  to

better target the nearest of the opposition.

The Sif'krie skiffs were starting to waver now, clearly not eager  to  be

at  the  center  of  a  massive  firefight.  The  Ishori,  recognizing   their

hesitation, increased its speed toward them; in response, the two Diamala also

picked up their pace, splitting formation into a flank/crossfire stance.

"They're going to run down those Sif'kries," Elegos  murmured.  "Or  else

the Diamala will open fire on the Ishori to prevent it. Either way, both sides

will claim the other was the instigator."

"And either way, the shooting starts," Leia  said  tightly,  running  her

fingers down the sensor data. New Republic ships?there  had  to  be  some  New

Republic ships out there somewhere.  If  one  of  them  was  close  enough  to

intervene, or even get in between the Ishori and Diamala...

But there were only three Corellian Corvettes carrying New Republic  IDs,

all on the far side of the pack of ships. No chance at all that they could get

to the confrontation in time.

Which meant it was up to her.

"Everyone hang on," she called toward the intercom. Without waiting for a

reply from the two Noghri, she turned the  Falcon's  nose  toward  the  Ishori

cruiser and threw full power to the sublight drive.

The engines roared to life, the  acceleration  pushing  Leia  momentarily

into her seat before the compensators could catch up.  "I  trust  you  have  a

plan," Elegos said calmly over the noise. "Do bear  in  mind  that  your  High

Council authority will not likely be enough to stop them."

"I wasn't even going to bring that up," Leia said, glancing  at  the  nav

display and easing the helm yoke back just a bit. The  Falcon  was  now  on  a

collision course with the Ishori cruiser's  stern.  "Take  over,"  she  added,

pulling off her restraints and snagging her lightsaber as she got up from  her

seat. "Keep us on this course."

"Understood," Elegos's voice came distantly back to her as  she  sprinted

down the tunnel and skidded past the exit hatchway toward the  aft  cargo  bay

bulkhead door.

She stretched out to the control switch with the Force as she approached,

sending the door sliding open?

"Councilor?" Barkhimkh's anxious voice called from the upper quad laser.

"Stay there," Leia called to him as she ducked into  the  cargo  bay  and

crossed to the starboard side of the ship. Through one more door, and she came

at last to the access grill protecting the starboard power converters and  ion

flux stabilizer.

Han was going to kill her, but it was their  only  chance.  Igniting  her

lightsaber, clenching her teeth, she jabbed the glowing blade into one of  the

power converters and dragged it across into the stabilizer.

And grabbed for a handhold as the Falcon bucked like a stung tauntaun. It

bucked again; and suddenly the drone of the  engines  changed  to  an  ominous

whine.

Twenty seconds later she was back in the cockpit. "Report?" she asked  as

she slid back into her seat.

"We've lost starboard maneuvering," Elegos said. "The engines  appear  to

be trying to go into a feedback instability." He glanced at her. "I  certainly

hope this is part of your plan."

"Trust me," Leia assured him, trying to feel as confident as she  sounded

as she keyed the comm. "Ishori  cruiser,  this  is  the  freighter  Millennium

Falcon. We're in serious trouble and urgently request assistance."

There was no answer. "Ishori cruiser?"

"This is the Ishori War Cruiser Predominance," an  angry-sounding  Ishori

voice snarled from the speaker. "Identify yourself."

"This is  New  Republic  High  Councilor  Leia  Organa  Solo  aboard  the

freighter Millennium Falcon," Leia said. "We've  lost  maneuvering  and  power

control in our starboard engines. Our current course has us passing too  close

to your hull. I need you to move immediately out of our path while we  try  to

regain control."

There was another long pause.  Leia  watched  the  warship  looming  ever

nearer, uncomfortably aware that if the Ishori commander chose he could easily

turn this whole thing to his own advantage. He had only to use her request  as

an excuse to speed up his drive toward the Sif'krie skiffs...

"I ask you to please hurry," Leia said. A thought occurred  to  her,  and

she reached over to blur the fine-focus of her comm a bit. Just enough to  let

some of the other ships beyond the Ishori eavesdrop on the transmission... "My

passenger, Trustant Elegos A'kla, is attempting to  effect  repairs,  but  I'm

afraid  the  equipment  aboard  is  not  within  standard  Caamasi   technical

expertise."

Without a word, Elegos unstrapped and got to his feet,  disappearing  out

through the cockpit door. "Ishori Cruiser Predominance, do  you  still  copy?"

Leia added.

"Repeating?"

"No need to repeat," the voice snarled again. Leia felt  automatic  anger

stirring in response to the tone, forced herself  to  remember  that  all  the

emotion in the Ishori voice meant there was some serious  thinking  going  on.

She shifted her eyes to the cruiser again and held her breath...

And abruptly, the Ishori's advance toward the skiffs  slowed,  its  stern

rotating instead out of the Falcon's path. "We stand ready to assist  you  and

Trustant A'kla," the Ishori bit out, his voice already  sounding  calmer.  The

thinking was over, and it was time for action. "Lower your shields and prepare

for acceleration impact," he continued. "We will attempt  to  lock  a  tractor

beam onto you to slow your rush."

"Thank you," Leia said,  keying  off  the  shields.  They  didn't  affect

tractor beams all that much, but there was no point in making a  tricky  high-

speed grab any harder than it already was. "Once we're in your beam, we'll try

a cold shutdown and see if we can bring this under control."

"We stand ready to provide any assistance you and Trustant A'kla require,

" the Ishori said. "Stand ready..."

The Falcon jerked as the tractor beam caught it, wobbled a  moment,  then

settled down as the lock firmed. Reaching across to the engine controls,  Leia

threw the shutdown switches.

The engine whine ran down the  scale  and  faded  into  silence.  On  the

control board, indicators turned red; around her, the lights flickered once as

battery power took over. "We read successful shutdown," the  Ishori  reported.

"If you wish, we will bring you aboard our ship to assist you in your repairs.

"

For a moment Leia was tempted. Having a Caamasi aboard one  of  the  most

outspoken and confrontational species' ships might help stretch the peace  out

here. But on the other hand, it could also be misinterpreted as Elegos's tacit

endorsement of the Ishori's anti-Bothan stance. "Thank you  again,"  she  told

the alien. "But we have an urgent appointment with President Gavrisom that  we

can't delay. If you could escort us over to the group of New  Republic  ships,

we would very much appreciate it."

"Of course," the Ishori said with only the barest hesitation. The Diamala

had reached the Sif'krie skiffs now, the four of  them  standing  together  in

quiet defiance against any further action. The chance had been missed, and the

Ishori knew it.

As did the rest of the armada. All around them, Leia saw, the other ships

were starting to settle back into their taut, watchful waiting.

The flash point was safely past. Or at least, this flash point was.

She keyed off the comm. "You're really taking a beating this trip, aren't

you," she murmured, patting the Falcon's control board  sympathetically.  "I'm

sorry."

The door behind her slid open. "I see it worked," Elegos  said,  slipping

into the copilot seat again. "You have a fine and unique  gift  of  diplomacy,

Councilor."

"And sometimes I'm just lucky," Leia said.

Elegos lifted his eyebrows. "I thought Jedi didn't believe in luck."

"It comes of hanging around Han and this ship," Leia said  dryly.  "Where

did you go, anyway? Back to look at the stabilizer?"

The Caamasi nodded. "I didn't expect to be able to do anything, certainly

not after you'd finished with it. But you'd indicated I was trying  to  repair

it, and I wanted there to be some truth in what you were saying."

"Truth." Leia sighed. "That's what we need here,  Elegos.  What  we  need

desperately. Truth."

"Captain Solo will have that  truth  here  within  another  day,"  Elegos

reminded her quietly. "All you and President  Gavrisom  need  to  do  is  hold

things together that long."

Leia stretched out with the Force, trying to get a feel for  the  future.

"No, I don't think so," she said slowly. "Something tells me it's not going to

be that easy. Not nearly that easy."

* * *

Navett and Klif had cut through the floor of the Ho'Din tapcafe's storage

subbasement floor their first night of work, a ten-minute task with the fusion

cutter Pensin had scrounged  from  somewhere.  But  after  that  the  job  had

switched over to something longer, harder, and considerably more tedious.

"Four more days of this, huh?" Klif grunted, heaving another shovelful of

noxious Bothawui dirt out of the chest-deep hole onto  the  large  drop  cloth

they'd spread out to catch it.

"Well, if we really put our backs into it, maybe it'll only take  three,"

Navett pointed out, scooping up the dirt from the cloth in turn and dumping it

into their Valkrex fusion disintegration canister. He sympathized with  Klif's

frustration, but there wasn't a lot either of them  could  do  about  it.  The

vibrations of their digging were iffy enough;  but  if  they  tried  operating

heavy equipment within range of the  power  conduit's  sensors,  they'd  bring

Bothan Security down on them in double-quick time.

"Thanks lots," Klif said dryly, dumping another shovelful. "You  know,  I

don't mind dying for the Empire, but to Vader with these preliminaries."

"Watch your words," Navett warned him, glancing at the door at the top of

the stairway. Pensin was supposed to be keeping an eye  on  the  door  to  the

subbasement, but there were a handful of other staff and night guards still up

in the tapcafe, and  a  wrong  word  overheard  by  one  of  them  could  ruin

everything.

He scooped up the next shovelful?

There was a scrabbling sound at the door.  Navett  let  the  shovel  down

silently onto the cloth, dropping to one knee and drawing  his  blaster  in  a

single smooth motion. He leveled the weapon on the door, then lifted it at the

soft two-one-two knock. The door opened and Horvic stuck his head  around  the

corner. "Pack it up," he hissed. "The night guards think  they've  spotted  an

intruder, and they might come down here looking."

Klif was already out of the hole, manhandling  the  square  of  duracrete

floor they'd cut back into place.  "They  get  a  good  look?"  Navett  asked,

holstering his blaster and giving Klif a hand.

"I don't know," Horvic said grimly. "But personally, my money's  on  that

old woman of yours. I spotted someone with your description of her sitting off

in a corner booth when Pensin and I came on duty."

"Terrific," Navett snarled under his breath, leaving Klif to disguise the

edges of their trapdoor as he shut off the disintegrator and carried  it  back

to its hiding place behind a stack of vodokrene cases. "Well, don't just stand

there?go help them find her."

"Right," Horvic said. "What about you?"

"We'll head outside," he said. "Maybe we can tag her on her way out."

"Happy hunting," Horvic said, and disappeared.

It took thirty seconds to fold up the drop cloth and hide it, and another

minute to ease their way up through the main basement to  the  gimmicked  back

door. The streets in this part of Drev'starn  were  mostly  deserted  at  this

hour, the high-mounted glow panels dimmed to a fairly low  light.  "I'll  take

back here," Navett murmured to Klif.  "You  circle  around  front.  Don't  let

anyone see you."

"Don't worry." Moving like a shadow, Klif headed down the side alley  and

disappeared around the corner  of  the  building.  Checking  both  directions,

Navett crossed to a trash container  a  few  meters  away.  Sinking  into  its

shadow, he balanced his blaster across one knee and waited.

And waited. Occasionally he spotted figures hurrying by in front  of  the

lighted windows of the tapcafe, and several times the Ho'Din  or  one  of  his

night guards poked their head out the back door, double-checked the lock,  and

went back in.

But no one came out and stayed out. Not the woman or anyone else.

It was an hour before the commotion seemed to finally  die  down  inside.

Navett waited  another  thirty  minutes,  irritably  counting  the  number  of

shovelfuls behind schedule this was costing them, before finally  pulling  out

his comlink. "Klif?"

"Nothing," Klif's voice came back. He  sounded  irritated,  too.  "Sounds

like they've given up."

"Must have been a false alarm," Navett said. "Come on  around  and  we'll

get back to work."

A few minutes later they were back in the subbasement. Klif retrieved the

drop cloth as Navett  headed  around  the  stacked  vodokrene  cases  for  the

disintegrator.

And paused there. Lying on top of the disintegrator was a comlink. "Klif?

" he called softly. "Come here."

A moment later the other was at his side. "I don't believe it," he  said,

sounding stunned. "How in blazes did she pull this one off?"

"Why don't we ask her," Navett said, carefully picking up the comlink. It

was a binary-linked type, he  noted,  the  sort  typically  carried  on  small

starships and connected only to another specific comlink. He gave it  a  quick

once-over for booby traps, then flicked it on.  "You're  very  inventive,"  he

said. "I'll give you that."

"Why, thank you," the old woman's voice came back promptly. "That's  very

flattering. Particularly coming from an Imperial dirty tricks team."

Navett glanced at Klif. "You know, that's the second time you've  accused

us of being Imperials," he reminded her. "You are just guessing, of course."

"Oh, hardly," she said scornfully. "Who else would  be  looking  to  take

down the Bothans' planetary shields?"

"You're still just guessing," Navett said, straining his  ears  for  some

sign of telltale sounds in the background and wishing  viciously  he  had  the

equipment that would let him trace the transmission. "If you were sure,  you'd

have called Bothan Security instead of still  skulking  around  yourself  this

way."

"Who says I haven't called them?" she said. "Or  maybe  I  like  skulking

around. It could be I used to do this sort of thing all the time against Hutts

and other slime. Maybe I'm looking for a new challenge."

"Or maybe  you're  looking  for  an  early  and  violent  death,"  Navett

countered. "How did you find us, anyway?"

"Oh, come on," she chided. "You don't really think  your  cover  is  that

good, do you? My New Rep buddies and I had you pegged first time off the rack.

So what was the deal with those metalmites at the shield generator, anyway?"

Navett smiled tightly. "Fishing now, are we? Please."

"You never can tell," she said. "Incidentally, whichever of you gimmicked

that back door lock needs to do a better job next time?it was so  obvious  you

might as well have hung a sign on it. It did come in handy, though."

"I imagine it did," Navett said. "You're still in  the  building,  aren't

you?"

"Now who's fishing?" she countered. "Actually, no, I left some time  ago?

there's a crawlspace beneath the ceiling that leads to a handy skylight.  That

was a free one."

"Thank you," Navett said between clenched  teeth.  Who  did  this  little

fringe slime think she was talking to, anyway? "Here's  some  free  advice  in

return. Go back to your ship and clear off Bothawui. If  you  don't,  you  are

going to die on this dirtball. I will personally guarantee that."

"With all due respect, Lieutenant?or is it Major? Colonel? Oh, well, with

the Empire in shambles these days I guess rank doesn't really matter. With all

due respect, Imperial, I've been threatened by far more impressive folks  than

you.

Anytime you want to come out and do a face-to-face, I'm ready."

"Oh, we'll do a face-to-face, all right," Navett promised,  forcing  down

his anger. Anger, and the muddled thinking that accompanied it,  were  exactly

what she was angling for. "Don't worry about that. But when we do, it'll be  a

time and place of my choosing, not yours."

"Whatever you want," she said. "Nighttime would work  best?that  way  you

can use that Xerrol Nightstinger of yours to full advantage. You  didn't  just

throw it away after that riot a few weeks back, did you?  The  one  where  you

framed Solo for shooting into the crowd?"

Navett glared at the comlink. Aside from being a general all-around  pain

in the neck, this woman was far too well informed. Who in space did  she  work

for, anyway? "You're fishing again," he said.

"Not really," she said offhandedly. "Just putting two and two together."

"Sometimes that kind of math doesn't work the way  you  think  it  does,"

Navett warned her. "And sometimes if  the  mathematician  hangs  around  where

she's not welcome, she doesn't live to finish her sums."

She clucked. "You're starting to repeat yourself,  Imperial.  If  I  were

you, I'd try to work up some fresh threats. However, it's well past my bedtime

and I know you have work to do, so I'll let you go. Unless you'd  like  to  go

fetch your Xerrol and come out and play, that is. I'll wait."

"Thanks," Navett said. "I'll pass for now."

"Entirely up to you," she said. "Go ahead and keep the  comlink?I've  got

plenty of spares. Good night, and happy digging."

The transmission clicked off. "And restless and unpleasant dreams to you,

too," Navett murmured, dropping the comlink into the disintegrator.

He looked back at Klif. "This," he said darkly, "is just exactly what  we

needed."

"Oh, exactly," Klif ground out. "So what are we going to do about her?"

"For now, nothing," Navett said, picking up the disintegrator and lugging

it over to the drop cloth. "For all her fishing and accusations,  she  doesn't

really know anything."

"Like blazes she doesn't," Klif retorted. "She knows we're  digging  over

one of the shield building's power conduits. What more does she need?"

"My point exactly," Navett said. "She's spotted our digging,  but  hasn't

called Security down on us." He squatted down and eased his shovel blade under

the edge of their trapdoor. "Why not?"

"How should I know?" Klif grumbled, getting his shovel into  place  under

the other side. "Maybe she figures she'll pick up a bounty if she can  deliver

everything in a neat package."

"Could be," Navett said, lifting carefully. The block came up, and he got

his fingers under the edge. "I think it's more likely she's got  some  trouble

of her own with the  Bothans  that  means  she  can't  go  to  them  with  any

accusations."

"That wouldn't stop her from calling in an anonymous tip,"  Klif  grunted

as they eased the trapdoor off the hole.  "The  mood  they're  in  out  there,

they're probably jumping at every cracked twig."

"No," Navett said, gazing into the hole. "No,  she's  not  the  type  for

anonymous tips. I think that for whatever reason, she's decided to  take  this

whole thing personally. Professional pride, maybe?I don't know. The  point  is

that she's turned this into a private duel between her and us."

Klif grunted. "Pretty stupid."

"Stupid for her," Navett agreed. "Useful for us."

"Maybe," Klif said. "So what now?"

"We get back to work," Navett said, dropping into  the  hole.  "And  when

we're done," he added, digging his shovel into the packed dirt  at  his  feet,

"I'll go retrieve the Xerrol. Maybe tomorrow night we'll take her  up  on  her

invitation to come out and play."

* * *

Gavrisom looked up from Leia's datapad, his prehensile wing tips flicking

restlessly across the desk beside it. "And you truly  believe  he  is  sincere

about this?" he said.

"Very sincere," Leia said, feeling a frown creasing her forehead. She had

expected a considerably more positive reaction to Pellaeon's  peace  proposal.

"And I examined the credentials he brought from the Imperial Moffs. Everything

was in order."

"Or so it appeared," Gavrisom said, shaking his mane. "So it appeared."

He looked back down at the datapad, touched the control to  scroll  back.

Leia watched him, trying to understand this strange and  unexpected  emotional

conflict she could sense in him. An end to the long war might  finally  be  at

hand. Surely this was news for at least cautious excitement.

So why wasn't he cautiously excited?

Gavrisom looked up at her again. "There's no mention of  Thrawn  anywhere

in here," he pointed out. "Did you ask Pellaeon about that?"

"We discussed it briefly," Leia said. "At that time he'd received no word

from Bastion that Thrawn had assumed supreme  command.  Nor  had  he  had  any

indication that the Moffs had  rescinded  his  authorization  to  begin  peace

talks."

"Neither of which  means  anything  at  all,"  Gavrisom  said,  his  tone

suddenly and uncharacteristically harsh. "With Thrawn on the scene, officially

or otherwise, this is utterly meaningless." He slapped a wing tip  across  the

datapad.

"I understand your concerns," Leia said, choosing  her  words  carefully.

"But if it's not a trick, this may be our chance to finally end this long war?

"

"It is most certainly a trick, Councilor,"  Gavrisom  ground  out.  "That

much we can all be sure of. The only question is what exactly Thrawn hopes  to

gain from it."

Leia drew back in her seat. The flash of emotion right then... "You don't

want Pellaeon's offer to be genuine, do you?" she asked. "You want it to be  a

trick."

Gavrisom turned his eyes away from her, snorting a soft, whinnying  sigh.

"Look all around us, Leia," he said quietly, turning his head to gaze out  the

stateroom viewport. "Look at them. Nearly  two  hundred  warships,  dozens  of

peoples, all ready to begin a civil war over their own individual concepts  of

what constitutes justice for Caamas. The  New  Republic  is  poised  ready  to

destroy itself... and there's nothing I can do to prevent it."

"Han has a copy of the Caamas Document," Leia reminded him.  "He'll  have

it here tomorrow. That should defuse a lot of the tension."

"I'm sure it will," Gavrisom agreed. "But at this point I'm  not  willing

to rely on even that to stop them. You and I both know that for  many  of  the

potential  combatants  Caamas  has  merely  become  a  convenient  excuse  for

restarting old wars with old enemies."

"I realize that," Leia said. "But once that excuse  is  taken  away  from

them, they'll have to back down."

"Or create a different excuse," Gavrisom countered  bitterly.  "The  fact

is, Leia, that the New Republic is in danger of fragmenting, of  being  driven

apart by our own vast diversity. We need time to counter those forces; time to

talk, time to plan, time to try to build all these different peoples into some

sort of unity."

He waved a wing toward the viewport. "But we no longer  have  that  time?

this crisis has snatched it away from us. We need to get it back."

"The Caamas Document will do that," Leia insisted. "I'm sure it will."

"Perhaps," Gavrisom said. "But as President, I can't afford to put all my

hopes on it. I must prepare to muster every common purpose I can find for  the

New Republic. Every common purpose, every common goal, every  common  cultural

ethos."

He tapped the datapad, gently this time. "And, if necessary, every common

enemy."

"But they're not a real enemy anymore," Leia said, striving to  keep  her

voice calm. "They're far too small and weak to be any kind of threat."

"Perhaps," Gavrisom said. "But as long as  they're  out  there,  we  have

someone to unite against."  He  hesitated.  "Or  even  to  fight  against,  if

necessary."

"You aren't serious," Leia said, gazing hard at him. "Stirring up  action

against the Empire at this point would be nothing short of a slaughter."

"I know that." He shook his head. "I don't like this any better than  you

do, Leia. In fact, I will admit to being ashamed of using the  people  of  the

Empire this way. But whether my name and memory are denounced by history is of

no importance. My job is to hold the New Republic  together,  and  I  will  do

whatever is necessary to achieve that."

"Perhaps I have more faith in our people than you do," Leia said quietly.

"Perhaps you do," Gavrisom said with a nod. "I  sincerely  hope  you  are

right."

For a moment they sat together  in  silence.  "I  presume  you  won't  be

releasing news of Pellaeon's offer," Leia said at last. "With your permission,

though, I'd like to begin putting together a list  of  delegates  for  a  full

peace conference.

If and when you decide to proceed with this."

Gavrisom hesitated, then nodded. "I admire your  confidence,  Councilor,"

he said.

"I only wish I could share it. Yes, please assemble your list."

"Thank you."

She got up from her chair and retrieved her datapad. "I'll have the  list

ready for you by tomorrow." She turned to the stateroom door?

"There is, of course, one other option open to you," Gavrisom called from

behind her. "You are merely on leave of absence from the Presidency.  Assuming

the Senate confirmed the decision, you could resume that office right now."

"I know," Leia said. "But this isn't the time  for  that.  Yours  is  the

voice that has been speaking for Coruscant since  the  Caamas  Document  first

came to light.

It wouldn't be good for that voice to suddenly change."

"Perhaps," Gavrisom said. "But there are many in  the  New  Republic  who

believe that Calibops are skilled at words and nothing more. Perhaps the  time

for words has ended, and the time for action has arrived."

Leia stretched out briefly to the Force. "The time for action may  indeed

have come," she agreed. "But that doesn't mean the time for  words  is  ended.

Both will always be needed."

Gavrisom whinnied softly. "Then I will continue with the words," he said.

"And will entrust to you the actions. May the Force be with us both."

"May the Force be with us all," Leia said quietly. "Good night, President

Gavrisom."

CHAPTER

33

She waited until an hour after the background sounds of the household had

quieted down. Then, getting up from her bed, Shada left her room in  the  vast

underground complex that was Jorj Car'das's home and slipped down the darkened

hallway.

The library door was closed, and the Aing-Tii hand-waving  trick  Car'das

had used to get inside obviously wasn't going to work for her. However, before

saying good night he had showed her and Karrde the more conventional method of

opening their room doors, and she was banking on the library being set up  the

same way.

Searching around the stones lining the  doorway  with  her  fingers,  she

found the slightly cooler one and pressed her palm against it.

For  perhaps  twenty  seconds  nothing  happened.  Shada  maintained  her

pressure on the stone, alert for signs of activity in the area  and  wondering

again at this ridiculous procedure. Based on the life story  he'd  told  them,

she couldn't see the Jorj Car'das who had first arrived here on Exocron  being

an overly patient man, certainly not the type to install  doors  in  his  home

that took half a minute to open. She could only assume his  thinking  at  that

time had been that intruders bent on theft  or  violence  would  be  similarly

impatient.

Now, of course, with his Aing-Tii tricks, none of it mattered.  At  least

not to him.

Beneath her hand, the trigger stone gave a gentle bump.  Shada  held  on;

and a few seconds later the door finally slid ponderously open.

She'd expected the library to be as dark as the rest of the  house,  with

only a handful of muted glow panels to show the  way  around.  To  her  uneasy

surprise, the room was lit much more brightly than that. Not as bright  as  it

had been when Car'das  showed  it  to  them  earlier,  but  brighter  than  an

uninhabited room ought to be.

She slipped inside, ducking to the left out of the doorway;  and  as  she

did so, she caught a glimpse of a moving shadow in the central circle near the

computer desk.

Car'das? She bit back a curse. Karrde had  already  scheduled  an  early-

morning departure for the Wild Karrde's rendezvous  with  the  Aing-Tii  ship.

This was her one and only chance to get to the datacard she needed to find.

And then, drifting up from the computer desk, she  heard  a  muffled  but

very familiar voice:  distinctive,  somewhat  prissy,  and  quite  mechanical.

Silently, she detached herself from the wall and made her way down one of  the

narrow aisles between the data cases and headed to the center.

To find that her ears had indeed not been playing tricks on her.  "Hello,

Mistress Shada," Threepio said brightly, straightening up  from  his  stooping

lean over the computer desk. "I thought you and the others had retired for the

night."

"I thought you had done so, too," Shada said,  glancing  at  the  nearest

data case as she stepped over to him. Each shelf completely packed with stacks

of datacards;  each  stack  of  datacards  standing  eight  to  ten  deep.  An

incredible collection of knowledge. "Or whatever it is droids do at night."

"Oh, I usually close down for a time," Threepio told her. "But during  my

talk earlier with Master Car'das he suggested I might wish to have a chat with

his main computer. Not that the computer aboard the Wild Karrde  isn't  decent

company, of course," he added hastily. "But I  must  admit  I  sometimes  miss

Artoo and others of my own kind."

"I understand," Shada assured him, a lump forming in her throat. "It  can

be very lonely to be somewhere where you're out of place."

"Really," Threepio said interestedly.  "I  suppose  I've  always  assumed

human beings were adaptable to most every place and circumstance."

"Being adaptable to something doesn't  necessarily  mean  you  like  it,"

Shada pointed out. "In many ways I'm as much out  of  place  aboard  the  Wild

Karrde as you are."

The droid tilted his head. "I'm  so  sorry,  Mistress  Shada,"  he  said,

sounding pained. "I had no idea you felt that way. Is there anything I can  do

to help?"

"Maybe help me return to where I belong."  Shada  gestured  down  at  the

computer desk. "Have you gotten to know the computer well enough to be able to

do a search of Car'das's library?"

"Certainly," Threepio said, his voice suddenly wary. "But this is  Master

Car'das's equipment. I'm not sure I should?"

"It'll be all  right,"  Shada  soothed  him.  "I'm  not  going  to  steal

anything. All I want is one small piece of information."

"I suppose that would  be  all  right,"  Threepio  said,  still  sounding

uncertain. "We are his guests, after all, and guests often have the tacit  run

of the household?"

He stopped as Shada held up a hand. "Can you do the  search?"  she  asked

again.

"Yes, Mistress Shada," he replied in a somewhat subdued voice.  "What  is

it you wish to search for?"

Shada took a deep breath?

"Emberlene," a quiet voice came from behind her. "The planet Emberlene."

"Oh, my!" Threepio gasped. Shada spun  around,  dropping  into  a  slight

crouch, her hand diving beneath her tunic to the grip of her blaster?

"Forgive me," Car'das said, coming into view around the inner  circle  of

data cases. "I didn't mean to startle you that way."

"I certainly hope not," Shada  said,  her  grip  still  on  her  blaster,

muscles and reflexes preparing for combat. If Car'das took  exception  to  her

being here... "I didn't hear you come in."

"I didn't mean for you  to  hear  me,"  he  said,  smiling.  "You're  not

planning to use that blaster, are you?"

So much for Mistryl subtlety. "No, of course not," she said,  withdrawing

her hand empty. "I was just?"

She broke off, frowning, as the words he  had  spoken  a  moment  earlier

suddenly penetrated her conscious mind. "What did you say when you came in?"

"I told Threepio you wanted to do a search  for  the  planet  Emberlene,"

Car'das said, eyeing her steadily. "That is what you were going  to  look  up,

wasn't it, my young Mistryl shadow guard?"

Her first impulse was to deny it. But looking into that  even  gaze,  she

knew it would be a waste of effort. "How  long  have  you  known?"  she  asked

instead.

"Oh, not long at  all,"  he  said,  waving  a  hand  in  an  oddly  self-

deprecating gesture. "I suspected, of course, but I didn't actually know until

you defeated those four swoopers outside Bombaasa's place."

Shada grimaced. "So Karrde was  right,"  she  said.  "He  thought  giving

Bombaasa his name would eventually get it back to you."

Car'das shook his head. "You misunderstand. Bombaasa doesn't work for me,

nor I for him. In fact,  aside  from  Entoo  Nee  and  the  other  few  in  my

household, no one actually works for me at all."

"Right?you're retired," Shada growled. "I forgot."

"Or else you don't truly believe," Car'das countered. "Tell me,  what  is

it you want for Emberlene?"

"What everyone else wants," she shot back. "At least what they  want  for

big, important worlds like Caamas. I want justice for my people."

Car'das shook his head. "Your people don't want justice, Shada," he said,

an infinite sadness in his voice. "They never did."

"What are you talking about?" Shada demanded, feeling her  face  warming.

"How dare you judge us? How dare you judge anyone? Sitting out here  all  high

and mighty, never deigning to get your own hands dirty,  while  everyone  else

fights and bleeds and dies?"

She broke off, her rising fury  at  his  attitude  battling  against  her

deeply ingrained fear of losing control. "You don't know  what  it's  like  on

Emberlene," she bit out. "You've never seen the  suffering  and  squalor.  You

have no business saying we've given up."

Car'das's eyebrows lifted. "I never said you'd given  up,"  he  corrected

her gently. "What I said was that you didn't want justice."

"Then what do we want?" Shada snarled. "Charity? Pity?"

"No." Car'das shook his head. "Vengeance."

Shada felt her eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know why Emberlene died, Shada?" Car'das asked. "Not how it died?

not the firestorming and massive air and space attack that finally crushed it?

but why?"

She stared at him, a dark uneasiness beginning to swirl into the flame of

her anger and frustration. There was something behind his eyes that she didn't

like the look of at all. "Someone feared our growing power  and  prestige  and

decided to make an example of us," she said carefully. "Some think that person

was Palpatine himself, which is why we've never worked for his Empire."

The eyebrows lifted again. "Never?"

Shada had to look away from that gaze. "We had millions  of  refugees  to

feed and clothe," she said, her voice sounding hollowly defensive in her ears.

"Yes, sometimes we worked even for the Empire."

For a moment the room was filled with an awkward silence. "Principles are

so often like that, aren't they?" Car'das said at last. "So very slippery.  So

hard to hold on to."

Shada looked back at him  again,  trying  to  come  up  with  a  properly

scathing retort.  But  nothing  came  to  mind.  In  Emberlene's  case?in  the

Mistryl's case?his quiet cynicism was all too true.

"At any rate, that particular principle was of no  real  value,"  Car'das

continued.

"As it happens, Palpatine had nothing to do with Emberlene's destruction.

"

He stepped past her and around to the data case behind Threepio. "I  have

the true history of your world right here," he said, waving at the top row  of

datacards. "I pulled all the information together once I knew you'd be  coming

here with Karrde. Would you like to see it?"

Automatically, Shada stepped toward him... hesitated. "What do  you  mean

by true?" she asked. "What does anyone mean by true? We both know  history  is

written by the winners."

"History is also written by the bystanders," Car'das said, his hand still

up beside the datacards. "By the Caamasi, and the Alderaanians, and the Jedi.

Peoples who had no part or stake in what happened. Would you  accuse  all

of them of lying?"

Shada swallowed, fear and a  horrible  sense  of  inevitability  twisting

itself around her throat. "And what do all these disinterested  parties  say?"

she asked.

Slowly, Car'das lowered his hand. "They say that three years  before  its

destruction," he said gently, "the rulers of Emberlene set off on a rampage of

conquest. That for the first two and a half of those years they destroyed  and

conquered and plundered every one of  the  dozen  other  worlds  within  their

reach."

"No," Shada heard herself whisper. "No. That can't be true. We wouldn't..

. we couldn't have done something like that."

"The average citizens weren't told the true story,  of  course,"  Car'das

said. "Though I imagine most could have read between the lines if they'd truly

wanted to know what their leaders were doing. But they had triumph and spoils,

pride and glory.

Why bother with mere truth?"

Again, Shada had to look away from those eyes. It wasn't  my  fault,  she

wanted to protest. I wasn't there. I didn't do it.

But the words were hollow, and she knew it. No, she hadn't  been  one  of

those who had toasted Emberlene's conquests and looked eagerly ahead for more.

But in dedicating her life to the Mistryl, she had in her own  way  helped  to

perpetuate the lie.

All because she had wanted to make a difference.

"You shouldn't take any  of  this  personally,  Shada,"  Car'das  offered

softly into her  thoughts.  "You  didn't  know;  and  the  desire  to  make  a

difference is something held deeply within all of us."

Shada looked sharply at him. "Stay out of  my  mind!"  she  snapped.  "My

thoughts are none of your business."

He bowed his head briefly. "I'm  sorry,"  he  said.  "I  didn't  mean  to

intrude. But when someone is shouting, it's usually difficult not to overhear.

"

"Well, try harder." Shada took a deep breath. "So what happened? How were

we finally stopped?"

"Your victims and potential victims were too weak to fight back on  their

own," Car'das said. "So they pooled their  resources  and  hired  a  mercenary

army. The army was... perhaps overly thorough."

Overly thorough. Again, Shada searched for a  blistering  retort.  Again,

there was nothing she could  say.  "And  all  in  the  sector  rejoiced,"  she

murmured.

"Yes," Car'das said quietly. "But for the stopping  of  a  dangerous  war

machine.

Not for the suffering of the innocent."

"No, the innocent are never a very high priority, are they?" Shada  said,

hearing the bitterness in her voice. "Does your true history tell who the army

was who destroyed us? Or who their sponsors were?"

His face seemed to settle subtly. "Why do you want to know?"

Shada shrugged, an uncomfortable hunching of  suddenly  tired  shoulders.

"My people have never known who did it."

"And if I give you that information, what will you do with  it?"  Car'das

asked. "Turn the vengeance of the Mistryl against them after all these  years?

Create more suffering among still more innocents?"

The words were a sudden stab in her heart. "I don't know what they'll  do

with it," Shada said, a sudden misting in her eyes blurring her sight. "All  I

know is that it's the only thing I can take back that might  let?"  She  broke

off, swiping viciously at her eyes.

"You don't want to go back to them, Shada," Car'das said. "They're living

a lie, whether they know it or not. That's not for you."

"I have to," Shada said miserably. "Don't you understand? I have to  work

for something larger than myself. I've always needed  that.  I  have  to  have

something to hold on to and serve that I can believe in."

"What about the New Republic?" Car'das asked. "Or Karrde himself?"

"The New Republic doesn't want me," she  bit  out.  "And  Karrde..."  She

shook her head, an acid burning in her throat. "Karrde's a smuggler,  Car'das,

just like you were. What kind of purpose is that to believe in?"

"Oh, I don't know," Car'das said thoughtfully. "Karrde  has  altered  the

organization considerably since my days with it."

"It's still the fringe," Shada said. "It's still illegal and underhanded.

I want something honorable, something noble. Is that so much to ask for?"

"No, of  course  not,"  Car'das  said.  "Still,  Karrde's  much  more  an

information broker now than he is a smuggler. Isn't that  at  least  a  little

better?"

"No," Shada said. "In fact, it's worse. Information brokering is  nothing

more than selling people's private property to those who don't deserve to have

it."

"Interesting point of view,"  Car'das  murmured,  his  gaze  shifting  to

Shada's right. "Have you ever considered it that way?"

"I haven't up till now," Karrde's voice said.

Shada spun around, shaking the last lingering tears from her eyes. Off to

her right, dressed in a robe and  ship  slippers,  Karrde  was  standing  just

outside the inner circle, regarding her with an odd expression  on  his  face.

"Perhaps I need to reassess my thinking," he added.

"What are you doing here?" Shada demanded.

"Car'das called me," Karrde said. He  looked  at  Car'das,  his  forehead

wrinkling.

"At least, I think he called me."

"Oh, yes, definitely," Car'das assured him. "I thought you should  be  in

on this part of the conversation." He bowed his head  to  Shada.  "Forgive  me

again, Shada, if I startled you."

Shada fought back a grimace. "He's just full of surprises, isn't he?" she

commented.

"He's always been that way," Karrde agreed, stepping over  to  her  side.

"All right,  Car'das.  Your  two  puppets  are  assembled  and  awaiting  your

commands. What do you want from us?"

Car'das's eyes widened in a look of innocence.  "Me?"  he  protested.  "I

want nothing from you, my friends. On the contrary, I wish to present you with

a gift."

Shada glanced at Karrde, found him throwing her the same suspicious look.

"Really," Karrde said dryly. "And what kind of gift might that be?"

Car'das smiled. "You were never one to appreciate  surprises,  were  you,

Karrde?" he said. "Not too bad at dealing them out, mind  you,  but  extremely

poor at accepting them. But I think you'll like this one."

He turned to the data case behind him and selected two datacards from the

top shelf. "This is the gift I offer," he said, turning  back  to  face  them,

holding one of the datacards in each hand. "This"?he held up his  right  hand?

"is the history of Emberlene I was just speaking to Shada about. Something she

very much wants, or at least has thought in the past that she wanted. This"?he

held up his left hand?"is a datacard I made up especially for you. One which I

personally think will be far more beneficial for everyone in the long run."

"What's on it?" Karrde asked.

"Useful information." Car'das laid them down side by side on the computer

desk.

"You may have one of them. Please choose."

Beside her, Shada felt Karrde take a  deep  breath.  "It's  your  choice,

Shada," he said quietly. "Take whichever one you wish."

Shada stared down at  the  two  datacards,  waiting  for  the  inevitable

emotional turmoil to twist  through  her.  Her  only  hope  of  rejoining  the

Mistryl?perhaps her only hope of even staying alive  through  the  death  mark

they'd put on her?lay there to her left. To her right was an unknown quantity,

put together by an old man who might easily be half insane, for  the  supposed

benefit of another man whose whole purpose in life was the antithesis of  what

she herself had always yearned for.

But to her weary surprise, the turmoil never came. Had Car'das's  earlier

revelations merely burned all of it out of her, she wondered vaguely,  leaving

no strength left to drive such emotions as anger or uncertainty?

But no. There was no turmoil because there was no  real  decision  to  be

made. Car'das was right: she could no longer work with the Mistryl, who served

and killed and died so that Emberlene could someday rise again. Not  now  that

she knew what Emberlene had once been.

And certainly not now that she could see what the Eleven  might  do  with

the knowledge on that datacard.

The justice she had once thought she was seeking had already been carried

out.

All that datacard could create was vengeance.

Reaching across the desk,  distantly  aware  that  she  was  now  finally

crossing the final bridge from her past, she picked up  the  datacard  on  the

right.

"I'm pleased with you, Shada D'ukal, child of the Mistryl," Car'das  said

with a warmth she had never heard in his voice before. "I promise you won't be

disappointed."

Shada looked at Karrde, steeling herself for his  reaction  to  Car'das's

revelation. But he merely smiled. "It's all right," he said. "I've  known  who

you are for a long time."

She looked back at Car'das. "Who I was," she  corrected  Karrde  quietly.

"What I am now... I don't know."

"You'll find your way," Car'das assured her. Abruptly he straightened and

rubbed his hands together. "But now, it's time to go."

Shada blinked. "Already? I thought we had until morning."

"Why, it is morning out there," Car'das said, coming around the  computer

desk and taking Karrde and Shada each by an  arm.  "Close  enough,  at  least.

Come, come?there's a great deal yet for you to  do.  You,  too,  Threepio?come

along."

"What about this?" Shada asked, waving the datacard  as  Car'das  hustled

them up the aisle toward the exit.

"You can read it on the way to the rendezvous point," Car'das  told  her.

"Just the two of you together?no one else. After that,  I  think  you'll  know

what to do."

They reached the door and Car'das waved it open. "What about you?" Karrde

asked as the old man steered them back down  the  hallway,  now  properly  lit

again, toward their rooms.

"My door's always open to you," Car'das said. "Either of you, of  course.

Come back anytime you want to visit. But for now, you must hurry."

* * *

An hour later, the Wild Karrde lifted from Exocron and  headed  out  into

space. An hour after that, after assuring himself they were properly on  their

way to their rendezvous with the waiting Aing-Tii ship, Karrde took Shada back

to his office.

And sitting together  in  front  of  his  desk  display,  they  read  the

datacard.

Shada was the first to break the silence. "He was right, wasn't he?"  she

murmured. "This is incredible. If it's true, that is."

"Oh, it's true," Karrde said, gazing at the display,  his  mind  spinning

furiously.

Shada had vastly understated the case: incredible didn't  even  begin  to

cover it.

"If he was nothing else in his entire life, Car'das was always reliable."

"I can believe that." Shada shook her head. "I take  it  we're  going  to

have the Aing-Tii take us straight back to Coruscant with this?"

Karrde hesitated. Coruscant was of course the obvious choice.

But  there  was  a  complete  range  of  possibilities  here.  Some  very

interesting possibilities indeed.

"Karrde?" Shada cut into his thoughts, her tone suddenly suspicious.  "We

are taking this back to Coruscant, aren't we?"

He smiled at her. "Actually, no," he said. "I think we can do better than

that."

He looked back at the display, feeling his smile turn grim.  "Much,  much

better."

* * *

Standing astride the command  walkway  of  the  Imperial  Star  Destroyer

Tyrannic, Captain Nalgol stared out into the blackness beyond the viewports.

There was still nothing to see out there, of course, unless one of  their

probe ships happened to dip into the edge of the cloaking shield or he  wanted

to contemplate the dirty edge of the comet at their side. But it was tradition

for a ship's captain to gaze at the universe from his bridge, and  Nalgol  was

feeling rather traditional today.

Four days. Four more  days  and  the  long,  stultifying  idleness  would

finally be over. Just four  days,  assuming  the  strike  team  was  still  on

schedule.

Four days.

From the far end of the command walkway he could hear Intelligence  Chief

Oissan's slightly clunky footsteps approaching. Nearly ten  minutes  late,  he

noted with disapproval as he glanced at his chrono.  "Captain,"  Oissan  said,

puffing slightly as he came up beside Nalgol. "I have the  latest  probe  ship

report for you."

Nalgol turned to him, noting the slight redness of Oissan's face. "You're

late," he said.

"There was more analysis  required  than  usual,"  Oissan  said  stiffly,

holding out a datapad. "It seems the ships over Bothawui  nearly  started  the

war a few days early."

Nalgol felt his eyes narrow as he took the datapad. "What are you talking

about?" he demanded, keying for the proper file.

"One of the Ishori warships decided to push at the Diamala," Oissan said.

"He came within half a blink of pushing them into open combat."

Nalgol swore under  his  breath,  glancing  over  the  report.  If  those

hotheaded alien fools started their hostilities before  the  strike  team  was

ready? "What stopped them?" he asked. "Never mind; there  it  is,"  he  added,

skimming the section. "Interesting. Did anyone get an ID on that freighter?"

"None of the probe ships were close enough for  a  positive  ID,"  Oissan

said. "But the follow-up comm traffic through  the  fleet  said  it  was  High

Councilor Organa Solo. That's unconfirmed, though."

"But highly likely," Nalgol grunted. "Here to help Gavrisom calm everyone

down, no doubt."

"No doubt." Oissan lifted his eyebrows. "The rumors also say she  brought

a Caamasi Trustant with her."

"Do they, now," Nalgol said, feeling a slow smile starting to tug at  the

corners of his mouth. "Do they really."

"We should know for sure in a  day  or  two,"  Oissan  pointed  out.  "If

Gavrisom has a real Caamasi there with his peace envoy, he's  sure  to  parade

him out in front of everybody as soon as he can."

"Indeed," Nalgol murmured. "And if he can keep him here talking peace for

four more days, we'll be able to say  there  was  a  Caamasi  present  at  the

destruction of Bothawui. Present and, by  implication,  fully  approving."  He

shook his head wonderingly. "Amazing. I wonder how Thrawn pulled that one off?

"

"It's  amazing,  all  right,"  Oissan  agreed,  not  sounding  nearly  so

enthusiastic. "I just hope he hasn't miscalculated somewhere along the line. A

hundred ninety-one warships would be a little much for three  Star  Destroyers

to take on all by ourselves."

"You worry too much," Nalgol chided, handing back the datapad. "I've seen

Thrawn at work; and he never miscalculates anything. The strike team  will  do

their job; and then those warships of yours will commence tearing  each  other

apart. All we'll have to do is eliminate the survivors and demolish whatever's

left of the planet."

"Or so goes the theory, anyway," Oissan said sourly.  "May  I  recommend,

Captain, that you at least put the Tyrannic and the others  on  standby  alert

for the remainder of our time out here? That way we'll be able to move quickly

if things break sooner than expected."

"It'll also mean four extra days' worth of worn-off combat edges," Nalgol

reminded him. "I hardly think that will be useful."

"But if things break too soon?"

"They won't," Nalgol cut him off brusquely. "If Thrawn  says  four  days,

it'll be four days. Period."

Oissan took a deep breath. "Yes, sir," he muttered.

Nalgol eyed the other, a mixture of contempt and pity flickering  through

him.

Oissan, after all, had never met Thrawn; had never heard  the  confidence

and authority in the Grand Admiral's voice. How could he possibly  understand?

"All right, we'll compromise," he said. "I'll order preliminary battle prep to

begin this afternoon; and one day before the projected flash point,  we'll  go

to standby alert. Will that make you feel better?"

"Yes, sir." Oissan's mouth twitched. "Thank you, sir."

"And  your  preliminary  battle  prep  will  begin  right  now,"   Nalgol

continued, gesturing at the datapad. "I want you to make up a  priority/threat

list for every one of those ships out there. Put in everything you have  about

their capabilities, defenses, and weaknesses, and include details  of  captain

and crew species where possible."

He smiled tightly. "When we finally come from under this cursed  cloaking

shield, I want to be able to slice straight through  whatever's  left  without

losing so much as a single turbolaser or Preybird. Understood?"

"Understood, Captain," Oissan said.  "I'll  have  it  ready  for  you  by

tomorrow."

"Very good," Nalgol nodded. "Dismissed."

Turning smartly, Oissan headed aft at a  quick  walk  along  the  command

walkway.

Nalgol watched him for a moment, then  turned  back  to  the  empty  view

through the viewport.

Four days. Four days,  and  they  would  finally  have  their  chance  to

slaughter Rebel scum.

He smiled into the darkness. Yes, he was indeed feeling very  traditional

today.

CHAPTER

34

With a start, Luke woke up.

For a  moment  he  stayed  where  he  was,  fighting  against  the  usual

floundering of trance-induced disorientation as he made a quick assessment  of

his situation. He was seated in a slightly uncomfortable seat, he  recognized,

with an unfamiliar control board in front of him and a curved canopy in  front

of that. From somewhere behind him, a handful of soft night-lights glowed;  in

front of him, outside the canopy, it was completely dark outside...

He blinked, coming suddenly fully  awake.  Completely  dark  outside?  He

fumbled with his restraints, throwing a glance at his chrono as he did so.

And paused, giving the chrono a second look. He'd  been  in  the  healing

trance for nearly five hours.

Five hours?

"Mara, I said to wake me in two hours," he called back toward the rear of

the ship, getting free of the restraints and  stumbling  to  his  feet.  "What

happened, you fall asleep back there yourself?"

But there was no answer, only the sudden frantic twittering from Artoo.

And there was also no Mara.

"Oh, no," Luke breathed, stretching his mind out to flick  through  every

corner of the ship. Mara was nowhere to be found. "Artoo, where  is  she?"  he

snapped, dropping to one knee and lifting  up  the  datapad  translator  still

hooked up to the droid. The words scrolled across it?"What do  you  mean,  she

left?" he demanded. "When? Why?"

Artoo moaned mournfully. Luke gazed  at  the  words  flowing  across  the

datapad, his heart sinking inside him. Mara had left  five  hours  ago,  right

after he'd settled into his trance. Artoo didn't know  where  she'd  gone,  or

why.

But both of those Luke could already guess.

"It's all right," he sighed, patting the droid  reassuringly  as  he  got

back to his feet. "I know there was no way you could have stopped her."

He crossed to the hatch, the taste  of  terrible  fear  mixing  with  the

bitter knowledge that whatever she had gone off to do, it was far too late now

for him to stop her, either. "Keep an eye on the ship,"  he  told  the  little

droid, popping open the hatch. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

He stepped outside, not bothering with the ladder, but simply dropping to

the ground. Directly overhead between the surrounding cliff peaks, patches  of

stars shone brightly down through the gaps between drifting clouds; everywhere

else, all was darkness. Mara, he called out, shouting her name hopelessly into

the silent night with his mind.

It was as if a cloaked and hooded figure had stirred. Somewhere  not  far

away a dark, hiding presence seemed to shift. A crack opened between cloak and

hood?Up here, her thought came back.

Luke peered up at the blackness  of  the  cliff  directly  ahead,  caught

between the sudden relief that she was still alive and the sobering sense that

something terrible was still about to happen. The glimpse faded as Mara seemed

to pull her mental cloak back around her?

Where  are  you?  Luke  sent  the  thought  outward,  fighting  back  the

temptation to break through this cocoon  she  had  suddenly  and  inexplicably

retreated into.

He sensed her hesitation, and her almost resigned  sigh.  Then,  flashing

into his mind like glimpses seen in a flickering light, he caught a series  of

images of the rock face in front of him, marking the  route  she'd  taken  up.

Sending an acknowledgment and encouragement back toward her, he crossed to the

cliff and started up.

The climb wasn't nearly as tricky as he had thought it would be, and with

Jedi-strengthened muscles behind it the trip took less than  ten  minutes.  He

found Mara sitting on a rough ledge near the peak, braced sideways against the

partial shelter of a rugged upthrust of rock. "Hello," she called  quietly  as

he came up onto the final ridge. "How are you feeling?"

"Completely healed," he said, frowning at her as he  maneuvered  his  way

along the ridge and sat  down  beside  her.  Her  voice  had  been  quiet  and

controlled; but beneath the dark cloak of her mental barrier  he  could  sense

the edge of an incredible sadness. "What's going on?"

In the faint sheen of starlight, he saw her right  hand  lift  and  point

ahead. "The Hand of Thrawn's over there," she said. "You can see the four back

towers against the clouds when the light's right."

Luke gazed  that  direction,  running  through  his  sensory  enhancement

techniques.

The towers and back wall of the fortress were indeed visible, along  with

a hint of something between the leftmost towers that  was  probably  the  flat

roof of the hangar they'd fought their way out of a few hours ago. "What  have

they been doing?" he asked.

"Nothing much," Mara said. "That ship that was out?remember  the  gap  we

saw in the parking array? It got in about three hours ago."

Luke grimaced. A functional ship, sitting right there  in  front  of  the

ones he'd sabotaged. Ready to head off to Bastion at a  moment's  notice.  "It

hasn't left again?"

He sensed the shake of her head. "Not that I could  tell.  Anyway,  Parck

said they'd be debriefing the pilot before he made a final decision."

"I see," Luke murmured. A debriefing that, under the circumstances, Parck

and Fel would undoubtedly be hurrying along as quickly as they could.  A  fast

decision, a fast lift back into the sky, and the Empire would have the Hand of

Thrawn and all its secrets.

And yet here he and Mara sat. Waiting.

But for what?

"It's funny, you know," Mara murmured from beside him.  "Ironic,  really.

Here we are: the woman who's spent ten years trying to build a  new  life  for

herself, and the man who's spent those same ten  years  rushing  madly  around

trying to save the galaxy from every new threat that reared its ugly face."

"That's us, all right," Luke said,  eyeing  her  uneasily.  The  twisting

darkness in her was growing stronger... "Not sure I see the irony, though."

"The irony is that with the New Republic ready to tear itself apart,  you

rushed  off  to  save  me,"   Mara   said.   "Ignoring   your   self-delegated

responsibilities in order to save that one woman and her one life."

He felt her take a deep breath. "And that one woman," she  added,  almost

too quietly to hear, "is now the one who has to sacrifice that  new  life  she

wanted.

To save the New Republic."

Abruptly, a distant flash of pale green light  illuminated  her  face.  A

face carved from stone; a face gazing with terrible pain and  loneliness  into

the night. "Looks like you got here  just  in  time,"  she  said  as  a  faint

thundercrack echoed in the distance.

There was a second green flash. With an effort, Luke tore his  eyes  from

her tortured face and turned to look.

The towers were firing. Even as he focused on them, another pair of green

turbolaser flashes lanced out from the top of one  of  them  across  the  sky,

followed by a pair from one of the other towers. Firing across  the  landscape

in the opposite  direction  from  where  he  and  Mara  sat.  "Ranging  shots,

probably," Mara said, her voice the deceptive calm of an overly  taut  spring.

"Trying to gauge the distance. It won't be long now."

Luke looked back at her.  The  pain  within  her  was  growing,  pressing

outward against her mental barrier like flood waters  against  a  dam.  "Mara,

what's going on?"

"It was all your idea, you know," she continued as if he  hadn't  spoken.

"You're the one who wanted so much for me  to  become  a  Jedi."  She  sniffed

loudly, the sound of someone fighting back tears. "Remember?"

And then, from the fortress, a flurry of turbolaser shots abruptly  burst

out, the green fire accompanied this time  by  a  counterpoint  of  blue  from

Chiss-style weaponry. All four  towers  were  firing  now,  firing  madly  and

persistently, all in the same direction. Luke craned his neck, trying to  see,

wondering what in the worlds they could be shooting at. Had Karrde sent  in  a

backup force after all?

Had the New Republic found them, or the Empire? Or one of  those  hundred

terrible dangers Parck had talked about? He looked back at Mara?

And in that single, awful heartbeat, he knew.

"Mara," he breathed. "No. Oh, no."

"It had to be done," she said, her voice trembling. In  the  backwash  of

light from the enemy fire Luke could see she was no longer even trying to hold

back the tears. "It was the only way to keep them from taking all of this  and

handing it to Bastion. The only way."

Luke looked back at the fortress, the knife of Mara's  grief  digging  in

beneath his own heart, a sudden frenzy of thought and urgency swirling through

his mind.

If he'd woken up earlier?if  he'd  forced  his  way  through  her  mental

barriers back in the fortress and learned her  private  plan?if  he  even  now

stretched out with the full power of the Force?

"Don't," Mara murmured, her voice infinitely tired. "Please, don't.  It's

my sacrifice, don't you see? The final sacrifice every Jedi has to go through.

"

Her fumbling hand reached out to touch his. It felt very  cold.  "There's

nothing you can do. Nothing at all."

Luke inhaled raggedly, the cool night air digging like the  ice  of  Hoth

into his lungs, his hands and mind and  heart  aching  with  the  overwhelming

desire to do something. To do anything.

But she was right. He could hate it, he could  bitterly  oppose  it;  but

down deep, he knew she was right.  The  universe  wasn't  his  responsibility.

Decisions made by other people?their actions, their consequences,  even  their

sacrifices?they weren't his responsibility, either.

Mara had made her choice, and had accepted the consequences for  it.  And

he had neither the duty nor the right to try to take it away from her.

Which left only one thing he could do. Moving closer to her on the ledge,

he put his arm around her.

For a moment she resisted, old fears and  habits  and  loneliness  mixing

together with her roiling pain to stiffen her muscles away from him. But  only

for a moment. Then, as if that part too of her life had  now  been  lost,  she

melted against his side, her so carefully constructed barriers bursting  aside

as she finally poured out the grief and  loss  she  had  held  so  deeply  and

privately inside her.

Luke wrapped his arm tighter around her, murmuring meaningless  words  as

he fought with her through the storm of pain and  misery,  absorbing  what  he

could of it and offering what comfort and warmth he could in  return.  In  the

distance, the firing from the towers increased?

And then, above the edge of the cliff, he saw  it.  Cutting  low  over  a

distant hill, its hull burnished by the surrealistic effect  of  full  shields

operating in atmosphere, it twisted and writhed like  a  living  thing  as  it

evaded or dodged or simply shrugged off the withering firestorm  savaging  the

air  around  it,  firing  back  steadily  but  uselessly  in  return  at   the

impenetrable black stone rising before it. Drawn like  a  mynock  to  a  power

cable by the beckon call Mara had spliced into one of the  alien  ships'  comm

systems, it was driving its single-minded way toward the open hangar entrance,

the one single weak point in the entire fortress. Mara's  personal  ship,  the

one thing in the universe she truly owned.

The Jade's Fire.

The tears had stopped now, Mara's shoulders tensing beneath Luke's arm as

she leaned tautly forward to watch. The Fire was almost to the Hand of  Thrawn

now, and Luke could see that beneath the burnishing effect the hull  had  been

torn open in a dozen different places, some with the yellow swirling of raging

flames blazing behind them. The towers intensified their attack;  but  it  was

too late.

The Fire dipped one final time, vanishing from their view?

And with a brilliant yellow-orange fireball that blasted  outward  toward

the far mountains, lighting up the landscape like daylight  on  Coruscant,  it

reached its goal.

The sound of the explosion a second later seemed curiously muffled, as if

the containing wall of Hijarna stone was as unaffected  by  the  sound  as  it

presumably had been by the explosion itself. A few seconds later another  even

softer blast washed over them, echoed back from  the  mountains.  The  towers,

almost reluctantly it seemed, ceased their firing.

And once again, the silence of the night settled in around them.

They sat there in the quiet a long time, clinging to each other  as  they

gazed out at the twisting yellow  glow  that  was  the  Fire's  funeral  pyre.

Slowly, as the hangar bay fire  burned  itself  out,  Luke  felt  Mara's  pain

similarly fade away.

But to his surprise, it was not a  hopeless  bitterness  or  even  simple

weariness that rose within her to fill the space left by  the  pain.  She  had

mourned her loss and spent her grief; and now, as it would always be with her,

it was time to put feelings and emotions aside and focus  again  on  the  task

that needed to be done.

And indeed, a minute later, she stirred in his arms.  "We'd  better  go,"

she said, her voice slightly ragged with the aftereffects of  her  crying  but

otherwise calm and clear. "They're going to be fighting that fire for a while.

This is probably our best chance to sneak back in."

* * *

"From the size of that blast, I figure  we  ought  to  have  knocked  out

everything in the hangar," Mara commented as they made their way back down the

cliff toward their ship. "At least as far as flyability  is  concerned.  There

may be something way in the back they'll be able to salvage, but it's going to

be a job to even get it out."

She was babbling, she knew, her words tumbling out every which way in the

aftermath of the exhausting emotional hammering she'd just gone through. She'd

never much liked babblers herself, and the thought that she'd become one, even

on a temporary basis, rather annoyed her.

But oddly enough, it didn't actually embarrass her. That  part  wasn't  a

mystery, either. If dumping everything on Luke the way she had up there hadn't

totally ruined his opinion of her, a little babbling wasn't likely to  do  it,

either.

And it  hadn't  destroyed  that  opinion.  That  was  probably  the  most

surprising part of it all. It truly and genuinely hadn't. Picking her way down

the cliff, she could still feel the same warmth and  acceptance  flowing  from

him that he'd wrapped so tightly around her up there.

There was also, to be sure, a bit more concern and overprotectiveness  in

the mix than she really felt comfortable with. But that  was  okay.  That  was

just Luke, and it certainly wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

"I still don't know how we're going to do  this,"  Luke  said,  stumbling

briefly on a patch of loose rock behind her before he caught  himself.  "It'll

take way too long to go in through the cave again."

"I know," Mara agreed. "Parck mentioned there were gaps in  the  wall.  I

guess we'll have to go cross-country and then somehow climb up the side to one

of them."

"That's going to be tricky," Luke warned. "They're not going to be nearly

as kindly disposed toward us as they were before."

Mara snorted. "That's okay," she said grimly. "I'm not exactly  all  that

kindly disposed toward them, either."

Ahead and below now, barely visible in the faint starlight, she could see

their borrowed ship,  just  beyond  one  last  narrow  fissure  in  the  rock.

Gathering herself, she leaped across the gap to a flat-topped boulder?

And abruptly halted, flailing for balance on the rock as shock froze  her

muscles.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, a strange thought or sound had flashed  into  her

mind.

Jedi Sky Walker? Are you there?

She lost the fight for balance and dropped rather awkwardly off onto  the

ground, barely able to keep her feet under her as she landed. But  she  hardly

noticed.

There at the ship, perched atop the  TIE  fighter-style  panels,  were  a

dozen nervously fluttering shadows. Even as Luke landed on the  ground  beside

her, one of the shadows detached itself from the ship and flew to a landing on

the rock they'd just vacated. It is you, indeed, the  thought  echoed  through

her mind, the words framed by excitement and relief. I saw the great fire, and

feared you and Mara Jade had perished.

It was Child Of Winds.

And she could hear him.

She looked at Luke, saw her own surprise reflected in his face and  mind.

"You do go in for the dramatic  changes,  don't  you?"  she  managed,  nodding

toward the young Qom Qae. "Nice touch. Really."

Luke lifted his hands,  palms  outward.  "Hey,  don't  look  at  me,"  he

protested. "I had nothing to do with this."

Listen to me, please, Child Of Winds cut in impatiently. You must  go  to

the aid of the Qom Jha. The Threateners have invaded their home.

"You mean the cave?" Luke asked, frowning.

"All the way in?" Mara added. "Or are they just at the front?"

There was a flurry of conversation back and forth between the  alien  and

the others still hanging from the ship. We do not know, Child Of  Winds  said.

My friends from this nesting of the Qom Qae saw them enter the cave with large

branches and machines.

Mara looked at Luke. "Large branches?"

"Heavy weaponry, I'd guess," he said. "How long were these branches?"

Some were twice as long as a Qom Qae, Child Of Winds said, stretching out

his wings for comparison.

"A little big for cleaning out a cave," Mara said. "Sounds  like  they've

figured out that was how we got in."

"And are setting up in case we come back," Luke said  grimly.  "Well,  we

knew we couldn't get in that way, anyway. I just hope the Qom Jha were able to

clear out of their way."

"Nothing we can do about it now," Mara said. "And sitting here  dithering

will only give them more time to get ready for us."

"You're right," Luke said reluctantly. "Let me go get Artoo and we'll get

moving."

Do you not go to help the Qom Jha? Child Of Winds asked anxiously as Luke

started past him.

"There's nothing we can do," Mara told him. "We have to get back into the

High Tower right away."

He stared up at her. But you promised.

"We promised only to do what we could," Mara reminded him. "In this case,

it turns out we weren't able to do all that much." She sighed. "Look, for what

it's worth, the Threateners don't consider either of you to be  anything  more

than large annoying vermin. If you stay away from their  ships  and  the  High

Tower from now on, they most likely won't bother you anymore."

I understand, Child Of Winds said, his disappointment still heavy in  his

tone. I will pass along that message.

"I'm sorry we couldn't help you more," Mara said. "But it's an  imperfect

universe, and no one ever gets everything he wants or thinks he wants. Part of

growing up is to face that, accept it, and move on."

The Qom Qae straightened up. And what is it you want, Mara Jade?

Mara looked over at the ship, at the  open  hatch  into  which  Luke  had

vanished. It was, as it happened, a question she'd been turning  over  in  her

mind a lot lately.

A question swirling with conflicting emotions and contradictory thoughts,

with cautious hopes and wary fears.

And a question she was definitely not interested in discussing with  some

strange junior alien. "All I want right now is a way back into the High Tower,

" she said, choosing a more immediate goal. "Let's get through that one first,

shall we?"

Child Of Winds seemed to shiver. Back into the High Tower? But why?

Luke had reappeared in the hatchway now and was using the Force to  lower

the droid to the ground. "It'd take too long to explain," she said. "But  it's

vitally important. Trust me."

I do, he said with an unexpected fervor. I trust you and Jedi Sky  Walker

both.

He hesitated. And I can show you a way.

Mara frowned. "You can? Where?"

That direction, he said, jabbing his head toward  a  point  just  to  the

right of where the Hand of Thrawn would be. My friends say there is a hole  in

the rock beside the Lake of Small Fish that will lead to the cavern near where

we first entered the High Fortress.

Mara looked over at Luke, an odd thought beginning  to  whisper  its  way

into her mind. Maybe tackling the  High  Tower  itself  wouldn't  actually  be

necessary. "Is it big enough for us to get through?"

I do not know. Child Of Winds hesitated. But I am told  it  is  the  same

passage the fire creepers use when they move under the ground.

Mara felt her fingers twinge at the memory. The thought of sliding down a

hole behind a horde of fire creepers frankly made her skin crawl.  But  if  it

was the only way, then it was the only way. "Let me check with Luke."

She crossed over to where he was standing beside the droid and ran him  a

quick summary. "Sounds worth checking out, anyway," he agreed. "How  far  away

is this lake?"

It will not take long, Child Of Winds assured him. By flight it  is  very

near.

"We can't take the ship," Luke told him. "The Threateners would  spot  us

quickly."

I do not refer to the flying machine. Abruptly  the  Qom  Qae  seemed  to

straighten himself up. I and my friends will carry you there. And we will  not

be seen.

Mara and Luke exchanged glances. "Are you  sure?"  Luke  asked,  glancing

around the group. "There aren't very many of you, and we're not as light as we

look. And we'll need to take Artoo, too."

I and my friends will carry you there, Child Of Winds repeated.  Not  for

hope of gain, he added hastily, but because you have risked much  already  for

the Qom Qae, and we have given nothing in return. It is only right for  us  to

do this.

Luke looked at Mara. "Going underground  again  will  mean  another  long

climb up the hidden stairway, you know," he warned. "You  sure  you're  up  to

that?"

Mara felt her lip twitch. "Actually, I don't think we'll need to go  into

the High Tower at all."

Luke's forehead creased. "Oh?"

"I was just thinking a minute ago  about  that  big  power  source  Artoo

spotted when we first got into the underground room," she told him.  "The  one

off in the direction Keeper Of Promises said was always fatal to Qom  Jha  who

wandered off that way."

She looked toward the High Tower.  "And  then,"  she  added  quietly,  "I

started wondering about what Parck said Thrawn had told them. That if  he  was

ever reported dead they should watch for his return ten years later."

She felt Luke's moment of puzzlement, then the tightening of his emotions

as he suddenly understood. "You're right," he said, his voice  low  and  dark.

"It would be just like him, wouldn't it? Just exactly like him."

"I think it's worth checking out, anyway," Mara said.

"Definitely," Luke agreed, his voice and mind suddenly  filled  with  new

urgency.

"All right, Child Of Winds, you're on. Get  your  friends  organized  and

let's get moving."

* * *

The major sitting glowering on the Chimaera's aft bridge comm display was

middle-aged, overweight, and almost painfully uncultured. And, if his  answers

were any indication, unimaginative and not particularly intelligent along with

it.

But he was also completely and unwaveringly loyal to  his  superior.  The

exact type of man, Pellaeon thought sourly, that Moff  Disra  would  naturally

choose to run interference for him.

"I'm sorry, Admiral Pellaeon," the major said again, "but His  Excellency

left no instructions on how he could be reached. If you'd care  to  talk  with

his chief of staff, I can see if he's available?"

"My business is with  Moff  Disra  personally,"  Pellaeon  cut  him  off,

already well tired of this game. "And I strongly suggest you remember  who  it

is you're speaking to. The Supreme Commander of Imperial forces is, by law, to

have reasonable access at all times to all high-ranking civilian leaders."

The major gathered himself into a sort of  halfhearted  attention.  "Yes,

sir, I know that," he said, his tone on the edge of insubordination. "It's  my

understanding, though, that  His  Excellency  is  in  fact  with  the  Supreme

Commander."

Pellaeon felt his face darken. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"I'm the Supreme Commander."

"Maybe you need to ask Moff Disra about that," the  major  said,  clearly

unfazed by the threat in Pellaeon's voice and face. "Or Gran?"

He broke off, the stolid features twitching as if he'd belatedly realized

he'd started to say something he shouldn't. "But I personally have no official

information on that," he finished, a bit lamely. "I expect His Excellency back

within a few days. You can call back then."

"Of course," Pellaeon said softly. "Thank you, Major, for your time."

He keyed off the comm and straightened up; and only then did he allow the

infinite tiredness within him to flow visibly out onto his face.

To his left, standing in the  archway  leading  to  the  Chimaera's  main

bridge, Colonel Vermel stirred. "It's bad, sir, isn't it?" he asked.

"Bad enough," Pellaeon admitted, waving at the  empty  display.  "Blatant

insubordination from Disra himself I would have expected. But to get the  same

thing from a relatively  minor  lackey  implies  an  exuberant  confidence  in

Disra's palace far beyond anything he should have."

He stepped into the archway beside Vermel. "And I can think of  only  one

possible reason for that degree of confidence."

Vermel made a sound in his throat. "Grand Admiral Thrawn."

Pellaeon nodded. "The major nearly said as much?I'm sure you caught that.

And if Thrawn is back, and is siding with Disra..."

He trailed off, the long years seeming to weigh even more heavily on  his

shoulders. After all this time, after all his tireless work and sacrifice  for

the Empire, to be waved so casually aside. Especially for someone like  Disra.

"If he's siding with Disra," he continued quietly, "then that is what is  best

for the Empire. And we will accept it."

For a minute they stood together in silence, the muted background of  the

Chimaera's bridge activity the only sound. Pellaeon let his gaze sweep  slowly

across the bridge of his ship, wishing he knew what  he  should  do  next.  If

Thrawn was back, of course, he need do nothing?the Grand  Admiral  would  make

his wishes and orders known in his own good time.

But if Thrawn wasn't back...

He stepped forward and gestured to the Intelligence duty officer  at  his

portside crew pit station. "We've intercepted several rumors of Grand  Admiral

Thrawn's return in the past two weeks," he said.  "Have  any  of  the  reports

mentioned him  being  associated  with  any  Star  Destroyer  other  than  the

Relentless?"

"Let me check, Admiral," the officer reported,  keying  his  board.  "No,

sir, they haven't. All the rumors specify either  the  Relentless  or  Captain

Dorja or both."

"Good," Pellaeon said. "I  want  an  immediate  priority  records  search

through Bastion Military Control. Find out where the Relentless has gone."

"Yes, sir."

The officer busied himself at his board. "You don't  really  think  Dorja

would file a  destination  plan  against  Thrawn's  orders,  do  you?"  Vermel

murmured.

"No," Pellaeon said. "But I'm not convinced any  of  this  heavy  secrecy

came from Thrawn in the first place. And if it was Disra's idea,  he  may  not

have thought to even mention to Dorja that he was hiding from me."

"Yes, but?"

"Here it is, sir," the Intelligence officer spoke  up.  "The  Relentless,

Captain Dorja commanding, left Bastion twenty hours  ago  en  route  for  Yaga

Minor. Transit time estimated at  twelve  hours.  Passengers  listed  as  Moff

Disra?" He looked up, and Pellaeon could see him swallow. "And  Grand  Admiral

Thrawn."

Pellaeon nodded. "Thank you," he said. "Captain Ardiff?"

"Sir?" Ardiff said, looking up from his  conversation  with  the  systems

monitor officer.

"Set course for Yaga Minor," Pellaeon ordered. "We'll leave  as  soon  as

the ship is ready."

"Yes, sir," Ardiff said, turning around and lifting his hand  toward  the

nav station. "Navigator?"

"I hope you know what you're  doing,  sir,"  Vermel  said  uneasily.  "If

Thrawn and Disra are working together, forcing a confrontation with  Disra  in

his presence may not exactly be a wise career move."

Pellaeon smiled mirthlessly. "Any considerations of career moves are  far

in my distant past," he said. "More to the  point,  there's  always  the  slim

chance that Thrawn is somehow unaware of the worst of Disra's offenses against

the Empire.

If so, it's my sworn duty as an Imperial officer to  bring  them  to  his

attention?"

"Admiral!" a voice snapped from the sensor station. "Ship incoming?fifty-

five degrees by forty. Unknown configuration, sir."

"Stand by defenses," Pellaeon replied calmly, eyes  searching  along  the

specified vector as he strode down the command walkway  toward  the  viewport.

Unknown ships,  in  his  experience,  were  nearly  always  false  alarms:  an

unfamiliar angle or modification,  or  else  some  obscure  design  that  that

particular sensor officer had never run into before. He caught  a  glimpse  of

the craft out the side viewport?

And stopped in midstride, staring out at it in  disbelief.  What  in  the

name of the Empire??

"Admiral?" the comm officer called  tentatively,  his  voice  unnaturally

high-pitched.

"Sir, they're hailing us. Rather, they're hailing you."

Pellaeon frowned. "Me personally?"

"Yes, sir. He asked specifically for Admiral Pellaeon?"

"Then you'd better put  it  on  for  the  Admiral,  hadn't  you?"  Ardiff

interrupted brusquely.

"Yes, sir," the boy gulped. "Transmission on, sir."

"Hello, Admiral Pellaeon," a voice boomed from  the  bridge  speakers.  A

male voice,  speaking  Basic,  with  none  of  the  more  obvious  accents  or

inflections usually associated with nonhuman vocal equipment.

And a voice that seemed oddly familiar, Pellaeon realized with  a  sudden

shiver.

In fact, disturbingly familiar. Like an echo out of the distant past...

"You won't remember me, I'm sure," the voice continued, "but I believe we

did meet once or twice."

"I'll take your word for it," Pellaeon replied, keeping his voice steady.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I'm here to make you an offer," the voice said. "To give  you  something

you very much want."

"Really." Pellaeon looked at  Ardiff,  now  standing  in  taut  readiness

behind the starboard turbolaser command station. "I was unaware I was  weighed

down by any such unfulfilled desires."

"Oh, you don't know yet that you want this," the voice assured him.  "But

you do.

Trust me."

"I'll admit to being intrigued," Pellaeon said. "How do  you  suggest  we

proceed?"

"I'd like to come aboard and meet with you. Once you see what I  have  to

offer, I think you'll understand the need for a certain degree of secrecy."

"I don't like it," Vermel murmured from beside him.  "It  could  be  some

kind of trick."

Pellaeon shook his head.  "With  an  unknown  alien  ship  as  bait?"  he

countered, gesturing at the vessel hanging  motionlessly  against  the  starry

background off their starboard  bow.  "If  it's  a  trick,  Colonel,  it's  an

extremely good one."

He cleared his throat. "Captain Ardiff?" he called. "Make preparations to

bring our guest aboard."

CHAPTER

35

There had been no attacks against the Lady Luck along  the  last  leg  of

their trip, as Han had half expected there to be. Nor did any  of  the  nearly

two hundred warships eyeing each other warily  over  Bothawui  seem  all  that

interested in the yacht as it picked its way carefully  across  to  where  the

three New Republic Corvettes orbited, huddled together as if terrified of  the

awesome firepower stretched out across the sky around them.

Which, Han decided sourly, they probably were. Gavrisom, and Calibops  in

general, were a lot bigger on words than they were on action.

The duty officer on Gavrisom's ship had  initially  been  disinclined  to

honor their docking request, but a few minutes of arguing?and probably a back-

scene discussion or two?had finally changed his attitude.

And as he and Lando ducked aboard through the Lady Luck's docking  hatch,

and the waiting Leia melted into his arms, the whole annoying hassle  suddenly

seemed worth it.

"I'm so glad you're back," Leia murmured, her voice muffled by his  chest

as she clung to him. "I was so worried about you."

"Hey, hon, you know me," Han said, trying for a casual tone  but  hanging

on to her as tightly as she was to him. Suddenly, now that it was all over, it

was as if he was finally able to admit to himself what their reckless jaunt to

Bastion might have cost. What he might have lost...

"Yes, I know you," Leia said, looking up at him and trying a  smile  that

didn't fool him for a second. Maybe she was seeing what  they'd  almost  lost,

too. "And I know you've never been able to stay out of trouble in  your  life.

I'm just so glad you got through this one."

"Me, too," Han said honestly, giving her a closer look. "You look tired."

"I'm just up  a  little  early,"  she  explained.  "Gavrisom  has  us  on

Drev'starn time, and it's just after dawn down there."

"Oh," Han said. It hadn't even occurred to him to ask  the  duty  officer

what ship's time was. "Sorry."

"No problem," she said. "Believe me, this was well worth getting up early

for." She hesitated, just noticeably. "Did you bring it with you?"

Han glanced over her head  at  Lando.  "Sort  of,"  he  said.  "Is  there

somewhere we can go and talk?"

He felt her muscles tighten beneath his hands. "Of course," she said, her

voice not betraying any of her sudden concern. "There's a  meeting  room  just

down the corridor."

A few minutes later they were seated in deeply comfortable chairs  behind

a sealed door. "The room's not monitored," Leia said. "I've  already  checked.

What's wrong?"

Han braced himself. "We got the Caamas Document, like  I  told  you,"  he

said. "What I didn't know at the time was that?well, look, let me give you the

whole story."

With occasional side comments from Lando, he ran a summary of their  trip

to Bastion, ending with Moegid's discovery that the document had been altered.

"I guess I should have figured he had some con going," he growled, glaring  at

the datacard on the low central table. Going  through  the  events  again  had

rekindled his embarrassed anger at himself for falling for  the  whole  stupid

trick in the first place. "I should have waited until  Lando  and  Moegid  had

completely cleared the thing before I even said anything to you."

Leia squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's all right," she said, the  set

of her mouth making it clear that it wasn't all right at all. "It's as much my

fault as yours. I knew Thrawn was back  on  the  scene,  too.  I  should  have

realized this had been too easy."

"Yeah, but you didn't know he was the one who'd given us  the  datacard,"

Han argued, obscurely determined not to let her take  any  of  the  blame  for

this. "All you knew was?"

Across the table, Lando  cleared  his  throat.  "Whenever  you  two  have

finished figuring out whose fault it is," he said, just a bit dryly, "maybe we

can move on to what we're going to do about it."

Han looked at Leia, saw her mouth relax slightly into a wry smile. "Point

taken," she said, matching his tone. "And it may not be as bad  as  it  looks.

There's still a chance we'll be able to get hold of a  copy  of  the  document

from somewhere else."

"You mean Karrde?" Han asked.

"No, there's another possibility." Leia hesitated.  "I  really  shouldn't

say anything more about it right now, except that if it works  it'll  probably

take a few more days."

"The point is still that we've got to stall everyone off  for  a  while,"

Lando said briskly. "Now, Han and I had a couple of  days  to  deal  all  this

around the table, and we think we may have a way to at least buy us  a  little

time."

"Right." Han nodded, glad to change subjects. "First off,  I'm  going  to

tell Gavrisom he can't have the Caamas Document yet."

Leia's eyes widened. "How in the worlds are you going to justify that?"

"On the grounds that the situation over Bothawui  is  too  tense  for  my

taste," Han said loftily. "I'm going to demand that everyone break it  up  and

go home before I turn the document over to anyone."

Leia's face was a study in stunned astonishment. "Han, you can't possibly

get away with that."

"Why not?" Han countered, shrugging.  "This  is  me,  remember?  Everyone

expects me to do crazy things."

"Yes, but?" With clear effort, Leia strangled down her  objections.  "All

right, let's assume Gavrisom lets you get away with that one. What then?"

Han glanced at Lando. "Actually, we hadn't gotten much past  that  part,"

he conceded. "Moegid says there's an outside chance  he  can  reconstruct  the

data?depends on how expert the guy was who changed  it.  And  now  that  we've

actually got the document, we might be able to bluff the Bothans into  telling

us what they know."

"Assuming they actually do know something," Leia pointed  out.  "If  they

don't, we're no better off than we  were.  Worse,  really,  because  someone's

bound to accuse the New Republic of making a deal with them  to  withhold  the

names."

"I know," Han said, trying to hide his sudden surge of frustration.  "But

if we just go out and tell them we haven't got anything, they're going to  say

the same thing, aren't they?"

Leia squeezed his hand again. "Probably," she said, her  eyes  taking  on

that faraway look that meant she was  thinking  furiously.  "All  right,"  she

said. "The two biggest instigators out there are the Diamala and Ishori. If we

can get them to back down, even temporarily, a lot of the others should follow

along. That's why Gavrisom came out here, in fact, to try talking to them."

Han grimaced, remembering his own less than successful try at getting the

two species to agree. And that had just been shipping details. "Just keep them

out of the same room," he warned.

"Exactly," Leia said, looking over at Lando. "Lando, are you and  Senator

Miatamia still on good terms?"

Lando eyed her suspiciously. "I don't know if we were ever on good terms,

exactly," he said cautiously. "Especially not after that ride I gave him ended

with an invitation for High Day drinks with Thrawn aboard  his  personal  Star

Destroyer. What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Miatamia arrived here yesterday evening to  look  the  situation  over,"

Leia said.

"He's staying over on one of the big Diamalan warships,  the  Industrious

Thoughts.

I'd like you to go over there and talk to him."

Lando's jaw sagged. "Me? Leia?"

"You have to do it," Leia said firmly. "Diamala have a  strong  sense  of

personal pride, and Miatamia still owes you for that ride. You can use that."

"Look, I don't know what you think my hospitality is worth  on  the  open

market," Lando protested. "But?" He took another look at her face and  sighed.

"All right.

I'll try."

"Thank you," Leia said. "Gavrisom and I are already scheduled to go  meet

with the Ishori leaders over on the Predominance  later  this  morning.  Maybe

together we can come up with something."

There was a beep from the table comm. "Councilor Organa Solo?"  the  duty

officer's voice called.

Leia reached over and touched the switch. "Yes?"

"There's  a  diplomatic  envoy  here  to  see  you,  Councilor.  Are  you

available?"

Han felt a flash of irritation. Couldn't they ever leave her alone? "This

is Solo," he called toward the comm. "The Councilor is otherwise engaged?"

He cut off at Leia's sudden squeeze on his arm. There  was  something  in

her face...

"Yes, I'll see him," she said. "Send him here."

She switched off the comm. "Leia?" Han began.

"No, it's all right," she said, that odd look still on her face. "I  have

a strange feeling?"

She broke off as the room door slid open.  Han  stood  up,  automatically

dropping his hand to his blaster.

"Councilor Organa Solo," Carib Devist said  gravely,  stepping  into  the

room. His eyes shifted to Han?"And Solo, too," he added, stepping  toward  him

and extending his hand. "I'm glad to see you made it through Bastion safely."

"We didn't," Han said shortly, making no move to take the  other's  hand.

"We got caught."

Carib froze, his hand still outstretched. His eyes flicked to  the  still

seated Lando, as if noticing him for the first time; then, slowly, he  lowered

his hand.

"What happened?" he asked, his face taut.

"Like I said, we got caught," Han told him. "They chased  us  around  the

city for a while, then were sitting there waiting when we hit  the  ship."  He

lifted his eyebrows. "Apparently, we  rate  pretty  high  over  there.  Thrawn

himself came out to meet us."

He'd thought Carib's face was as  tight  as  it  got.  He'd  been  wrong.

"Thrawn was there?" the other repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.  "It

was really him?"

"It sure wasn't a quarter-size holo," Han bit out. "Of course it was him.

We had a nice little chat, and then he gave us the Caamas Document." He jabbed

a finger at the datacard on the table. "There it is."

Carib looked down at the datacard. "And?" he asked warily.

"It's been altered," Leia said, her voice almost gentle.

Han threw an irritated look at her. What was she doing being nice to this

man? "I don't suppose you'd know how they caught on to  us  or  anything?"  he

growled, turning his glare back on Carib.

The other took it without flinching. "No, I don't," he said.  "But  given

that you weren't picked up the second you stepped off your ship, I'd guess you

simply got spotted. And may I also point out," he added with a new edge to his

voice, "that tumbling to you means they've also tumbled to me, which means our

families on Pakrik Minor are now in danger of Imperial reprisal. For  whatever

little that means to you."

Han grimaced. "Yeah," he muttered. "I'm... well, I'm sorry."

"Forget it," Carib said, the anger still lingering. "We knew what we were

getting into."

Deliberately, he turned back to Leia. "Which is why we're here, in  fact.

We've decided?"

"Just a minute," Lando  put  in.  "The  duty  officer  said  you  were  a

diplomatic envoy. How'd you con your way through that one?"

"No con involved," Carib said. "The Directorate wanted  someone  to  come

offer our support to President Gavrisom and the New Republic over  the  Caamas

situation. We volunteered. Simple as that."

"And you got all the way up to Gavrisom on your first try?"

Carib shrugged. "We pulled a few strings. But not too many were  needed."

He smiled sadly. "I get the impression that  there  aren't  a  lot  of  people

around these days flocking to  offer  Gavrisom  their  unconditional  support.

We'll probably make for a welcome change."

He looked  back  at  Leia.  "The  point  is,  we've  discussed  it  among

ourselves, and we've decided that we can't just sit back and watch  this  play

itself out." He straightened into a probably unconscious attention. "So  we've

come to offer you our help."

Han glanced across at Lando. A bunch of Imperial clones, volunteering  to

get involved in the Caamas dispute. Just exactly what they needed. "And how do

you propose to do that?" he asked.

"Any way we can," Carib said. "And maybe in ways you wouldn't even  think

of. For instance, are you aware that your mass of ships out there includes  at

least three Imperials?"

Han felt his eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about three Imperial ships," Carib  repeated.  "Small  ones,

barely starfighter class, probably with no more than three or four men  aboard

each. But they're Imperials, all right."

"You're sure of that?" Leia asked.

Han frowned down at her. There was a strange look  behind  her  eyes,  an

unexpected tension in her throat.

"Absolutely," Carib said. "We picked up the edge of a transmission on our

way in that was using the latest in encrypts from Bastion."

Leia's lip twitched. "I see."

"I presume you got IDs on them," Lando said.

"On the ones we spotted, yes," Carib said, digging  out  a  datacard  and

offering it to Han. "Of course, there might be more of them out there  keeping

quiet."

"Of course," Lando said.

Carib shot him a look, then turned back to Han.  For  a  moment  he  held

Han's gaze, studying his face... "Look, Solo," he said quietly.  "I  know  you

don't exactly trust me. I suppose in your boots, under  the  circumstances,  I

wouldn't particularly trust us, either. But whether you  believe  it  or  not,

we're on your side."

"It's not a matter of mistrust, Carib," Leia spoke up.  "It's  the  whole

question of what's real about this and what isn't.  With  Thrawn  pulling  the

strings, we're not sure even whether we can trust our own  eyes  anymore,  let

alone our judgment."

"Which  may  well  be  his  most  powerful   weapon,"   Carib   countered

impatiently. "The fact that no one's willing to trust their  allies  or  their

circumstances or even themselves. You can't  live  that  way,  Councilor.  You

certainly can't fight that way."

Leia shook her  head.  "You  misunderstand  me.  I'm  not  suggesting  we

capitulate  to  uncertainty,  but  only  explaining  our  hesitation.  On  the

contrary, we have a plan and will be attempting to carry it out."

"Good," Carib said, and Han thought he  could  detect  a  faint  note  of

relief in his voice. "What do you want us to do?"

"I'd like you to go back to  your  ship  and  start  wandering  leisurely

around the area," Leia told him, slipping a  datacard  into  her  datapad  and

doing some keying.

"Try to find and identify every Imperial ship that's out there."

"What if they don't transmit anymore?" Lando asked.

"Won't matter," Carib assured  him.  "There  are  certain  ways  Imperial

pilots tend to do things that makes them stand out of a crowd.  If  there  are

any more out there, we'll find them."

"Good," Leia said, sliding the datacard out of her datapad and handing it

to Carib. "Be sure to stay in touch with Han  or  Lando  or  me?here  are  our

personal comlink and ship's comm frequencies.  Other  than  that,  just  stand

ready."

"We will," Carib promised, fingering the datacard. "Thank you, Councilor.

We won't let you down."

"I know," Leia said gravely. "We'll speak more later."

With a short nod, Carib turned and strode from the room. "I hope you know

what you're doing, Leia," Han muttered, gazing darkly at the closed door. "I'm

still not sure I trust him."

"Only history will be  able  to  judge  his  actions  today,"  Leia  said

tiredly. "Or those of any of the rest of us."  She  took  a  deep  breath  and

seemed to shake off her weariness. "But we can only do what we can. I need  to

go talk with Gavrisom about our meeting with the Ishori; and you, Lando,  need

to call Senator Miatamia and try to get in to see him."

"Right," Lando said, hauling himself with clear  reluctance  out  of  the

comfort of his chair. "See you later."

He left. "What about me?" Han asked. "What do I do?"

"You give me another hug," Leia said, standing up  and  moving  close  to

him. "No, seriously, you'd better  stay  completely  out  of  it,"  she  added

soberly. "You're the one holding the Caamas Document, the one standing on  the

high moral ground.

You can't be seen dealing directly with either side."

"Yeah," Han said, grimacing. "I always like standing on the high  ground?

you make such a good target up there. Come on, Leia?I can't  just  sit  around

and do nothing."

Pressed against him, he felt her body stiffen a little. "Well, actually..

. the Falcon does need a little  work,"  she  said  carefully.  "We  lost  the

starboard power converters and ion flux stabilizer on the way into the system.

"

"That's okay, I've got  spares  for  both,"  Han  said.  "Any  idea  what

happened to them?"

He could almost feel her wince. "They ran into a lightsaber."

He twisted his neck to look down at the top of her head. "Oh,"  he  said.

"Really."

"It was for a good cause," she hastened to add. "Really it was."

Han smiled, stroking her hair. "I believe you,  sweetheart,"  he  assured

her. "Okay, I'll get right on it. You're docked over on the other side, right?

"

"Yes." Leia drew partway away from  him.  "One  other  thing.  There's  a

passenger aboard, who we're also sort of keeping out of local politics for the

moment.

Elegos A'kla, a Trustant of the Caamasi Remnant."

Han lifted his eyebrows, then shook his head. "I can't leave  you  for  a

minute, can I?" he said. "I take off from Pakrik  Minor  on  a  simple  little

trip; and the next thing you know you're consorting with high-level Caamasi."

Leia smiled up at him. But the smile had a disturbing brittleness to  it.

"You don't know the half of it," she said, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

"So tell me."

Reluctantly, Leia shook her head. "We don't have time  right  now.  Maybe

after Gavrisom and I get back from the Predominance, I can tell you the  whole

story."

"Okay," Han said. "Sure. I'll just get to work on the Falcon, then, okay?

"

"Okay." Leia hugged him again and gave him a quick kiss.  "I'll  see  you

later."

"Yeah," Han said, frowning. Something had just occurred to him? "Leia?"

She paused at the door. "Yes?"

"You said a minute ago that history would judge Carib's activities today,

" he reminded her. "Why today?"

"I did say that, didn't I?" Leia murmured, her eyes focused  on  nothing.

"I don't know."

Han felt something cold creeping up his back. "One of those Jedi things?"

Leia took a careful breath. "It could be," she said  quietly.  "It  could

very well be."

For a few heartbeats they gazed at each other  in  silence.  "Okay,"  Han

said, forcing a casual nonchalance into his voice.  "Whatever.  I'll  see  you

later, right?"

"Yes," Leia murmured, still looking troubled. "Later."

She turned and left the room. For a  moment  Han  stayed  where  he  was,

running the implications of what had just happened  through  his  mind.  There

were a whole bunch of them, all of them as muddy as swamp water, none of  them

anything he really much liked.

But there was one thing clear here, as clear as the fact  that  his  wife

was a Jedi. One way or another, this looked like it was going to be  one  very

busy day.

Scooping up the Caamas Document datacard, he stuffed it securely  into  a

pocket.

And if this was going to be a busy day,  he  added  sternly  to  himself,

there was no way he was going to be left out of it. No way at all.

Heading out into the corridor, he turned toward the docking bay where the

Falcon was moored. Whatever the speed record was for  replacing  an  ion  flux

stabilizer, he was going to break it.

* * *

The Errant Venture's briefing room was comfortably crowded  by  the  time

Wedge and Corran arrived. Bel Iblis was standing behind the  holo  table,  his

eyes flicking to each ship captain or  squadron  commander  as  they  arrived,

measuring him or  her  with  that  single  glance.  To  everyone  else,  Wedge

supposed, he probably looked perfectly calm.

With his and Rogue Squadron's longer history with the man, though,  Wedge

knew better.

Predictably, Booster Terrik was the last  to  arrive.  Ignoring  the  few

remaining seats, he took up  a  standing  position  alongside  the  first  row

directly in front of Bel Iblis and crossed his arms expectantly.

"This will be the final briefing before we arrive  at  our  destination,"

Bel Iblis began without preamble. "Our target, for  any  of  you  who  haven't

already guessed, is the Imperial Ubiqtorate base at Yaga Minor."

From the ripple of surprise that ran around the room,  Wedge  decided,  a

whole lot of them had not, in  fact,  guessed  correctly.  "Before  you  start

counting our ships and matching them against Yaga's defenses," Bel Iblis  went

on, "let me reassure you just a bit. We're not trying to take out the base, or

even soften it up particularly. In fact, aside from the Errant Venture itself,

the rest of you will be mostly staying on the outside as a diversion."

He pressed a key, and an image of the Ubiqtorate base appeared  over  the

holo table. "The Errant Venture will drop out of hyperspace,  alone,  at  this

point." A flashing blue light appeared just beyond the ring of outer defenses.

"We'll be transmitting a distress signal indicating that we're running from  a

large New Republic attack force?that's you?and  need  shelter.  With  luck?and

assuming the false ID fools them?we'll  be  allowed  to  penetrate  the  outer

defenses at this point."

Booster snorted loudly enough for the whole room to hear.  "You  must  be

joking," he rumbled. "An  Imperial  Star  Destroyer,  running  from  a  motley

collection of scrap like this? They'll never believe that."

"Why not?" Bel Iblis asked mildly.

"Why not?" Booster waved an all-encompassing hand around the room.  "Just

look at us. You've got us running full weapons  and  defenses,  a  practically

full crew complement, spit and polish that hasn't been  seen  since  Palpatine

was a prip.

Who's going to believe we're in serious trouble?"

Bel Iblis cleared his throat. "I gather you haven't taken a look  at  the

outer hull recently."

Booster's arm froze in the middle of another wave. "What?"  he  demanded,

his voice low and deadly.

"You're absolutely right about our needing to look the part of a ship  in

distress." Bel Iblis nodded. "I believe you'll find we do."

For a painfully long moment  the  two  men  stared  at  each  other,  the

expression on Booster's face reminding Wedge of an  approaching  thunderstorm.

"You're going to pay for this, Bel Iblis," Booster  said  at  last  in  a  low

voice. "You, personally, are going to pay for this."

"We'll add it to the ledger," Bel Iblis promised. "Don't worry, we'll put

everything back together afterward."

"You'd better," Booster threatened. "Everything fixed. And a new coat  of

paint, too." He considered. "Something besides Star Destroyer White."

Bel Iblis smiled faintly. "I'll see what I can do."

He looked around the room again, then keyed  his  control.  On  the  holo

display, the blue light passed the outer ring; and as it did so,  a  group  of

yellow lights appeared farther out. "At that same time, the rest of  you  will

drop in and form up  into  an  attack  line,"  he  continued.  "You  will  not

seriously engage the defense perimeter, but merely prod at it enough  to  keep

their attention turned outward. You'll also be firing a full barrage of proton

torpedoes, with an eye toward getting some of them through the ring  into  the

base itself."

The blue light came to a halt beside a slender spar sticking out from the

main base. "The Errant Venture will meanwhile come to a halt here, where we'll

launch an assault boat against the computer access extension  and  attempt  to

get a slicer team inside. If the Force is with us, we may be  able  to  locate

and download a copy of the Caamas Document."

"And then how do you get out again?" one of  the  other  ship's  captains

asked. "I presume you're not assuming they won't notice you at some point."

Bel Iblis shrugged slightly. "We are  an  Imperial  Star  Destroyer,"  he

reminded him. "I think we'll be able to rancor-roll our way  out  without  too

much trouble."

Wedge looked at Corran, saw the set to the other's mouth. No,  Bel  Iblis

was dead wrong on that one. Casual confidence or not, Star Destroyer  or  not,

once the Imperials tumbled to what was going on the old general was  going  to

be in for the fight of his life.

Or else...

Wedge looked back at Bel Iblis, a strange sensation in  the  pit  of  his

stomach.

Or else he knew perfectly well there was no way he would  ever  get  out.

Knew that all he could hope for was to find a copy of the Caamas  Document  in

time and transmit it out to the rest of the fleet.

Knew that Yaga Minor was, in fact, where he was going to die.

And if he knew it...

Wedge focused on Booster, standing with his arms crossed again. Booster's

ship, going to its destruction.

With Booster still aboard? Probably. Almost certainly.

Beside him, he heard Corran's sigh. "He's not going all noble  and  self-

sacrificing on us, Wedge," the other murmured. "He's thinking about Mirax  and

Valin."

"Sure,"  Wedge  murmured  back.  Booster's   daughter?Corran's   wife?and

Booster's six-year-old grandson. Yes, of course it made sense. The big, noisy,

self-centered old pirate Booster Terrik cared deeply about his family, whether

he would admit it or not.

And if it cost him his life to try to prevent his grandson  from  growing

up in the middle of a civil war...

"I guess we'll just have to make it Rogue  Squadron's  business  to  make

sure they get out again," Corran went on.

Wedge nodded. "You got it," he promised.

"What about fighters?" A-wing Commander C'taunmar asked  from  the  other

side of the room. "You'll want my squadron for screening, I presume?"

Bel Iblis shook his head. "No. If we had some Imperial  fighters?TIEs  or

Preybirds?I'd definitely bring them along. But this whole operation depends on

dragging out the bluff as long as possible; and a screen of A-wings or X-wings

would wreck that bluff rather quickly. No, all fighters will be  staying  with

the outer attack group."

His eyes found Wedge. "Including Rogue Squadron."

He held Wedge's eyes just long enough to make it clear there would be  no

argument, then looked around the room again. "Your individual assignments  and

positions in the battle array will  be  given  you  on  the  way  out  of  the

briefing.

Are there any further general questions?"

"Yes, sir," someone said. "You said you had a false ID  set  up  for  the

Errant Venture. Is it a real name, or something fictitious?"

"Oh, it has to be real," Bel Iblis said. "Twenty  years  ago  there  were

enough Star Destroyers that an individual Imperial could never keep  track  of

all of them, and might assume that his database just happened  to  be  missing

something.

But not anymore.

"Fortunately, Intelligence has picked up on three ships that haven't been

heard  from  for  several  weeks.  Presumably  they're  off  on  some  special

assignment; regardless, the chances are slim that any of them will turn up  at

Yaga Minor. We'll therefore be running under the name and ID of  the  Imperial

Star Destroyer Tyrannic"?he gestured to Booster?"under the command of  Captain

Nalgol."

Five minutes later, Wedge and Corran were heading back toward the  hangar

bay where the rest of Rogue Squadron waited. "It's going to be some  trick  to

protect them from outside the perimeter," Wedge commented grimly.

"I know," Corran said, his voice sounding oddly distant. "We'll just have

to be creative."

Wedge frowned at him. "Trouble?"

Corran shook his head slowly. "The Tyrannic," he said. "There's something

that bothers me about Bel Iblis using that name. But I don't know what."

A Jedi hunch? "Well, you  better  figure  it  out  fast,"  Wedge  warned.

"Launch point is only an hour away."

"I know." Corran took a deep breath. "I'll try."

CHAPTER

36

"Navett, wake up!"

Navett came awake in an instant, his hand closing  automatically  on  the

blaster hidden beneath his pillow. His eyes snapped open, taking in the  scene

with a single glance: Klif standing in the bedroom doorway, a blaster  in  his

hand and a furious expression on his face, barely visible in the dim light  of

Drev'starn dawn streaming through the window. "What?" he snapped.

"Someone's been in the shop," Klif snarled. "Throw on  some  clothes  and

come on."

Someone had been in the shop, all right. Navett walked through the  store

in a stunned daze, crunching datacards and bits of random equipment underfoot,

staring in disbelief at the carnage that had been visited on their neat little

pet emporium.

"I don't believe this," Klif muttered, for about the fifth  time.  "I  do

not believe this. How in space did she get in without tripping the alarms?"

"I don't know," Navett said, glancing over one of the rows of cages.  "At

least she didn't take the mawkrens."

"Near as I can tell, she didn't actually take  anything,"  Klif  growled,

looking around. "Just quietly took everything apart and rearranged it."

Navett nodded. Yet for all her energy and enthusiasm,  it  looked  as  if

she'd missed the real prize.  The  section  of  back  wall  beside  the  power

coupling  box,  where  he  and  Klif  had  installed  their   hidden   storage

compartment, seemed to be untouched. "Well, aside  from  making  a  mess,  she

hasn't really done anything," he said, circling around the sales counter.  The

computer was on; she must have gone in and poked through their files. A  waste

of her time there, too.

"Navett."

He looked up. Klif was standing at the prompous cage, gazing down on  the

shelf beside it. "What?" Navett asked, rounding the counter again and  joining

him.

Lying on the shelf, laid out in neat rows, were the tiny  cylinders  that

had been hidden in the false bottom of the mawkren cage.

And sitting next to them was another binary-linked comlink.

"You going to talk to her?" Klif prompted.

"And do what?" Navett retorted. "Listen to her gloat some more?"

"Maybe you can get her to tell you what she's going  to  do  next."  Klif

gestured at the cylinders. "One of them is missing."

Navett swallowed a curse. Picking up  the  comlink,  he  thumbed  it  on.

"You've been a busy little girl, haven't you?" he ground out.

"Why, good morning," the old woman's voice came  back.  Didn't  she  ever

sleep? "You're up early."

"You're up late," Navett countered. "And you ought to take better care of

yourself. Unaccustomed exercise could be fatal in someone your age."

"Oh, pish," she scoffed. "A little exercise keeps the old  heart  running

smoothly."

"Until you run it up against a sharp object," Navett reminded her darkly.

"There are laws on Bothawui against vandalism, you know."

"Only if you know who to deliver the warrant against," she  said  airily.

"And you don't, do you?"

Navett ground his teeth together. She was right;  all  their  efforts  to

backcheck her ship ID had come up completely dry. "Then  I  guess  we'll  just

have to deal with you ourselves," he said.

There was a clucking sound. "I suggested that last night. I do wish you'd

make up your minds. Did you fetch your Xerrol Nightstinger, by the way?"

Navett smiled tightly. He'd fetched it, all right. It was  sitting  right

there across the room in their hidden storage compartment, ready to go.  "What

exactly did you think you would find in here, anyway?"

"Oh, you never know," she said. "I've always  liked  animals,  you  know.

What are all those little cylinders for?"

"You're the expert on everything. You figure it out."

"My, but you're crabby first thing in the morning," she chided. "Not even

a hint?"

"I'll trade you," Navett offered. "Why don't  you  tell  me  what  you're

planning next."

"Me?" she asked, all wide-eyed innocence. "Why, nothing. From this  point

on it's up to the Bothans."

Navett shot a look at Klif. "Of course it is," he said. "Come on, now?you

can't call Security in on this, and we both know it. It's just you and us."

"You go ahead and believe that," she said  encouragingly.  "Well,  I'm  a

little tired, and you've got company coming. Talk to you later."

The transmission shut off with a click. "Good-bye to  you,  too,"  Navett

muttered, turning off the comlink and setting it down on  the  shelf.  Pulling

his knife, he deliberately drove it through the device.

"What did she mean about company?"  Klif  asked  suspiciously  as  Navett

brushed the pieces of the comlink into the waste collector. "You don't suppose

she has called Security, do you?"

"Not a chance," Navett said. "Come  on,  we've  got  to  get  this  place

straightened up before opening time?"

He broke off as, across  the  shop,  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door.

Frowning, he crossed the room, returning knife and  blaster  to  their  hiding

places in his tunic. Unlocking the door, he pulled it open.

To find himself face-to-face with a group of  four  Bothans  wearing  the

wide green-and-yellow shoulder sashes of local police. "Proprietor  Navett  of

the Exoticalia Pet Emporium?" the one in front asked.

"Yes," Navett confirmed. "Shop hours are?"

"I'm Investigator Proy'skyn of  the  Drev'starn  Department  of  Criminal

Discouragement," the Bothan interrupted briskly, holding up a  shimmering  ID.

"We received word that you had had a break-in."

His eyes flicked over  Navett's  shoulder.  "Obviously,  the  report  was

accurate.

May we come in?"

"Of course," Navett said, stepping back to let them enter, trying to keep

his suddenly murderous thoughts out of his voice. No,  the  old  woman  hadn't

done anything so obvious as calling Security. Not her. "I was  just  about  to

call you, actually," he added as the Bothans fanned out across the  shop.  "We

only just discovered it ourselves."

"You have a list of inventory and stock?" Proy'skyn called back over  his

shoulder.

"I'll get it for you," Klif volunteered, heading off toward the computer.

One of the Bothans had paused beside the prompous cage. "Proprietor?"  he

called.

"What are these cylinders?" He reached down.

"Please, be careful with those," Navett said  quickly,  hurrying  to  his

side, mind furiously casting about for something that would sound  reasonable.

"They're hormonal-drip capsules for our baby mawkrens."

"What sort of hormones are required?" the Bothan asked.

"Newborn mawkrens  need  a  particular  combination  of  solar  spectrum,

atmospheric conditions, and diet," Klif put in, picking up on Navett's cue and

running with it as only Klif could do. "You can almost  never  get  the  right

mixture off their own world, so you use a hormonal-drip."

"That's them over there," Navett added, pointing to  the  cage  with  the

tiny lizards. "We fasten the cylinders onto their backs  with  custom-designed

harnesses."

"I see," the Bothan said, peering at them. "When will  this  need  to  be

done?"

"This morning, actually," Klif said. "Sorry,  but  you'll  have  to  look

around on your own for a while, Investigator Proy'skyn, if you don't mind."

"Of course, of course," Proy'skyn said. "Please, carry on."

Navett stepped over to one of the  overturned  tables,  hiding  a  grimly

satisfied smile as he set it upright  again.  So  much  for  the  old  woman's

attempt at subtlety?clearly, he and Klif could out-subtle her any day  of  the

week. Not only did they now have reason to postpone long  official  questions,

not only had they soothed any possible suspicion by offering the investigators

the run of the place, but they would even be setting up  the  final  phase  of

their plan right under the collective nose-fur of Bothan officialdom.

Of course, they hadn't planned to institute that particular phase  for  a

couple of days yet. But you couldn't have everything.

Setting up the restraint grid,  ignoring  the  quietly  bustling  Bothans

wandering around looking for clues, they set to work.

* * *

They had finished fitting ninety-seven of the mawkrens with harnesses and

cylinders, with about twenty more to go, when Navett first became aware of the

new odor wafting through the shop.

He looked up at Klif, engrossed in attaching one of  the  cylinders  onto

the back of the tiny lizard standing in  rigid  immobility  on  the  restraint

grid, then let his gaze shift  around  the  shop.  The  four  original  Bothan

investigators had long since left, replaced by a group of three  techs  busily

pulling handprints and chemical samples from the various counters  and  cages.

None of them seemed to have noticed the smell.

Klif looked up, caught the expression on  Navett's  face.  "Trouble?"  he

murmured.

Navett wrinkled his nose. Klif frowned, sniffing the air...

And suddenly his eyes widened. "Smoke."

Navett nodded fractionally, his  eyes  darting  again  around  the  shop.

Nothing was visible, no flames and no smoke,  but  the  smell  was  definitely

getting stronger.

"She wouldn't," Klif hissed. "Would she?"

"We'd better assume she would," Navett said.  "Take  the  mawkrens  we've

finished and get them over to the tapcafe."

"Now?" Klif glanced at the bright sunshine outside the  window.  "Navett,

there's a full staff at work there right now."

"Then you'd better come up with a really dandy diversion to get them  out

of the way," Navett shot back. If they lost the  mawkrens,  this  whole  thing

would have been for nothing.  "Wake  up  Pensin  and  Horvic;  we're  in  full

emergency mode here."

Klif nodded grimly. "Got it,"  he  said.  Setting  his  tools  aside,  he

started putting the last few mawkrens back into the cage?

And suddenly one of the Bothans let out a  squawk.  "Fire!"  he  bleated.

"The building is on fire! Morv'vyal?call the Extinguishers. Hurry!"

"Fire?" Navett asked, looking around in feigned bewilderment.  "Where?  I

don't see any fire."

"Foolish human," the Bothan snapped. "Can't you smell the  smoke?  Hurry?

leave everything and go."

Navett shot a glare at Klif. So  that  was  the  old  woman's  plan.  She

couldn't figure out what in the shop their scheme needed, so she was going  to

force them to leave without any of it. "But my stock  is  very  valuable,"  he

protested.

"As valuable as your life?" The Bothan,  ignoring  his  own  advice,  was

moving rapidly around the outer edge of the shop,  hands  brushing  along  the

walls. "Go?get out."

"What are you doing?" Klif asked.

"You are right, there is no flame yet," the Bothan explained.  "The  fire

must therefore be inside the walls."

"The Extinguishers  are  coming,"  one  of  the  other  Bothans  reported

anxiously, waving his comlink. "But they will not  be  here  for  a  few  more

minutes."

"Understood,"  the  first  said,  pausing  at  the  power  coupling  box.

Abruptly, his fur flattened, and he pulled a knife from his belt. "Perhaps  we

can help prepare their way."

"Wait a minute," Navett barked, jumping forward. The Bothan had  dug  the

knife between wall panels directly over their hidden  compartment.  "What  the

fracas are you doing?"

"The fire smells of wiring," the Bothan explained breathlessly. "Here  at

the power coupling is the likely place for it to be. If we can expose  it  and

bring fire preventers to bear?"

He broke off, staggering  as  the  prying  knife  unexpectedly  shattered

through the relatively thin false front of the storage compartment. He  caught

his balance, gaping at the Nightstinger sniper  blaster  now  visible  inside.

"Proprietor Navett!" he exclaimed. "What is this weapon??"

He fell to the floor, question unfinished, as  Navett  shot  him  in  the

back.

The second Bothan got out just  a  squeak  before  Navett's  second  shot

dropped him.

The third was fumbling frantically for  both  comlink  and  blaster  when

Klif's shot took him out. "Well, that's torn it,"  Klif  snarled,  glaring  at

Navett. "What in the Empire??"

"She's expecting us to  be  properly  professional  about  this,"  Navett

ground out.

"And professionals never start shooting unless they  have  to.  So  fine:

we've just gone unprofessional. That ought to take her by surprise."

"Oh, terrific," Klif said. "A brilliantly unorthodox strategy.  Now  what

do we do?"

"We take it down,  that's  what,"  Navett  snarled  back,  thrusting  his

blaster  back  into  his  tunic  and  stepping  over  the  body  to  pull  the

Nightstinger from its hiding place. "Rouse Pensin  and  Horvic  and  get  your

tails out to the ship and into space. You've got two hours, maybe less, to get

aboard the Predominance and into position."

Nightstinger in hand, he turned back to find a  stunned  look  on  Klif's

face. "Navett, we can't do it now," he protested. "The attack force  won't  be

ready for another three days."

"You want to try to dodge our lady friend  that  long?"  Navett  snapped,

dropping the Nightstinger onto the table and starting to scoop the rest of the

mawkrens into their cage. "You can see her plan?she's trying to  maneuver  the

police or Extinguishers or Vader knows who else  in  a  uniform  into  running

interference against us for her. We have to move now, when she's not expecting

it."

"But the attack force?"

"Stop worrying about the attack force," Navett cut him off.  "They'll  be

ready, all right. Or will get that way blasted quick. You have your orders."

"All right," Klif said, sliding his own weapon away. "I'll leave you  the

landspeeder?I can lift another one for the three  of  us.  Anything  else  you

need?"

"Nothing I can't  get  myself,"  Navett  told  him  shortly.  "Go  on?the

chrono's counting."

"Right. Good luck."

He left. Navett finished getting  the  mawkrens  into  their  cage,  then

gathered up the rest of the cylinders and slid them back into the cage's false

bottom. Yes, the old woman had forced his hand, and that sudden drastic change

in plans was going to cost them dearly.

But if she thought she'd won, she was mistaken. He only wished  he  could

be around to see her when she realized that.

* * *

"I'm sure  you  understand,  Admiral,"  Paloma  D'asima  said,  obviously

picking her words very carefully, "how unprecedented this step  would  be  for

our people. We have never before had what might be considered close  relations

with the Empire."

Seated a quarter of the way around the table, Disra suppressed a  cynical

smile.

Paloma D'asima, one of the proud and exalted Eleven of the Mistryl, might

well think herself subtle, even clever, in the ways of politics and  political

sparring. But to him, she was as patently transparent as only a  rank  amateur

could be. If this was the best the Mistryl could do, he would have them eating

out of his hand before the day was over.

Or rather, eating out of Grand Admiral Thrawn's hand. "I  understand  the

conflicts we've had in the past,"  Thrawn  said  gravely.  "However,  as  I've

pointed out to you?and  to  Karoly  D'ulin  before  you,"  he  added,  nodding

politely to the  younger  woman  at  D'asima's  side,  "the  Empire  under  my

leadership will bear little resemblance to that of the late Emperor Palpatine.

"

"I understand that,"  the  older  woman  said.  Her  face  wasn't  giving

anything away; her hands, though, more than made up for it. "I only  bring  it

up to remind you that we would need more than just your word as guarantee."

"Are you questioning the word of  Grand  Admiral  Thrawn?"  Disra  asked,

letting just a hint of an edge into his voice.

The gambit worked; D'asima was instantly on the defensive. "Not at  all,"

she assured him, too quickly. "It's merely that?"

She was saved by a signal from the  conference  room  intercom.  "Admiral

Thrawn, this is Captain Dorja," the familiar voice said.

Seated at Thrawn's side,  Tierce  touched  the  switch.  "This  is  Major

Tierce, Captain," he said. "The Admiral is listening."

"Forgive the interruption,  sir,"  Dorja  said.  "But  you  asked  to  be

informed immediately if any unscheduled ships  approached  the  base.  They've

just received a  transmission  from  the  Imperial  Star  Destroyer  Tyrannic,

requesting emergency assistance."

Disra threw a startled look at Tierce. The Tyrannic was one of the  three

ships lurking behind their cloaking shields off Bothawui. Or at least  it  was

supposed to be there. "Did they specify the nature of their emergency?" Thrawn

asked.

"Coming through now, sir... they say  they've  come  under  attack  by  a

sizable New Republic assault force and have been severely  damaged.  They  say

the force is right behind them and that they need shelter. General  Hestiv  is

requesting instructions."

Disra felt a tight smile crease his lips. No?of course it wasn't the real

Tyrannic out there. Tierce's  hunch  had  been  right:  Coruscant  had  indeed

launched a mad attempt to steal a copy of the Caamas Document.

And not only was the trap ready and waiting, they even  had  one  of  the

Mistryl's Eleven here to watch that pitiful attempt turned into a  humiliating

defeat. The real Thrawn couldn't have arranged things better.

"Instruct General Hestiv to let the  incoming  Star  Destroyer  pass  the

outer perimeter," Thrawn told Dorja. "He's then to put all  defenses  on  full

battle readiness and prepare for enemy attack."

"Yes, sir."

"And then, Captain,"  Thrawn  added,  "you  will  similarly  prepare  the

Relentless for combat. Track the incoming Star Destroyer as it approaches  and

plot its course, then bring us to stand directly between it and the  base.  At

that point, you will order General Hestiv to bring full inner defenses to bear

on it."

"Yes, sir,"  Dorja  said,  sounding  slightly  puzzled  but  nevertheless

unquestioning.

"Will you be coming to the bridge?"

"Of course, Captain." Thrawn stood up, favoring  D'asima  with  a  slight

smile as he gestured her toward the conference room door. "In fact, I  believe

we all will."

* * *

The sudden noise snapped Ghent out of  his  doze  and  sent  him  jerking

upright in his chair. He looked around the work area wildly, saw he was  still

alone. Only then did his sleep-fogged mind realize the sound was some kind  of

alarm.

He looked around the room again, searching for the source of the trouble.

There was nothing he could  see.  Obviously,  it  must  be  elsewhere  in  the

station. A moment's search in the climate-control section of the board, and he

found the cutoff switch.

The sound faded away into an unpleasant ringing in his ears. For  another

moment he looked at the board, wondering if it would be worth  trying  to  tap

into the main comm system and find  out  what  was  going  on.  Probably  not;

whatever it was, it probably didn't have anything to do with him.

He frowned suddenly. The board in front of him seemed to be flickering.

Flickering?

The frown vanished into relieved understanding. Of course?he was  getting

reflections of light coming in through the viewport in the living area  behind

him. Getting to his feet, wincing as his knees informed him he'd been  sitting

in one place too long again, he hobbled in through the open  door  and  peered

out the viewport.

The source of the flickering light was  instantly  apparent:  an  awesome

display of multiple turbolaser and  proton  torpedo  blasts  coming  from  the

distance near the base's outer defense perimeter.

And framed  in  the  center  of  all  that  flashing  firepower,  bearing

inexorably straight down on him,  was  the  huge  bulk  of  an  Imperial  Star

Destroyer.

Ghent caught his breath, staring at the incoming ship.  Suddenly  all  of

Pellaeon's and Hestiv's talk about danger and threats, tucked snugly  away  in

the back of his mind for the past few days,  came  rushing  to  the  forefront

again. That Star Destroyer was coming for him?he was sure of it.

Run! the thought flashed into his mind. Run out of here,  down  the  long

tunnel into the main base. Find  General  Hestiv,  or  that  TIE  pilot  who'd

brought him here from the Chimaera, or just find somewhere to hide.

But no. Hestiv had warned him about spies inside the  main  base.  If  he

went there, one of them would surely get him.

And besides, he  remembered  suddenly,  he  couldn't  go  anywhere.  He'd

triple-sealed the single access door, passwording it with a layer of  computer

locks that would take any enemy hours to slice through. Even he, who'd set the

blocks up in the first place, would probably need half an hour to undo them.

And half an hour would be too late. Far too late.

For another minute he watched the incoming ship, wondering distantly what

they would do to him. Then, with a sigh, he turned away. He was trapped  here,

they were coming for him, and there was nothing he could do.

Returning to the work area, this time closing the  door  behind  him,  he

went back to his seat. The Wickstrom K220s had finally  finished  the  complex

analysis he'd set for them to do before all this happened. Keying the  results

over to the Masterline-70, pushing the events outside once again into the back

of his mind, he got back to work.

* * *

It took Navett half an hour to locate and purchase the  pressurized  tank

of flammable fluid he needed and another fifteen minutes  to  fit  it  with  a

sprayer hose. Forty-five minutes gone, during which time the  alarm  over  the

dead Bothans in the pet shop had probably spread to every corner of the city.

But that was all right. The ugly furry aliens couldn't stop him now;  and

the more time it took him to get ready here on the planetary surface, the more

time Klif and Pensin and Horvic would have to wheedle their  way  aboard  that

Ishori ship overhead.

They would die there, of course. They knew that. But then, he would  soon

be dying down here, too. What was important was that, before they  died,  they

would complete their task.

The streets around the Ho'Din tapcafe, so quiet and deserted in the  late

night, were buzzing with activity here in the early afternoon. With the  fluid

tank pressed into the seat beside him, wedged at an awkward angle against  the

low roof, Navett drove slowly down the deserted alleys  along  the  sides  and

back of the tapcafe, systematically spraying a thick layer of the liquid along

the lower walls and the ground around them. The front wall, facing as  it  did

onto a busy street, was too public for  him  to  do  the  same  there  without

arousing instant suspicion. But he had  other  plans  for  that  area  anyway.

Returning to the back alley, again making sure he was unobserved, he  fired  a

blaster bolt into the fluid as he drove past the tapcafe.

He took his time circling through the  alleyways  until  he  came  around

again onto the main street, with the result  that  by  the  time  he  let  the

landspeeder coast to a stop across from the tapcafe the fire he'd started  was

blazing furiously  away  along  the  outer  walls.  Pedestrians  were  running

frantically to and fro, waving and yelling as they either fled from the flames

or formed themselves into ghoulish knots at a safe distance to watch;  and  as

Navett retrieved the Nightstinger from the back seat the tapcafe's front doors

swung open and a crowd of equally hysterical  customers  and  waitstaff  began

streaming out  through  the  smoke.  Checking  the  Nightstinger's  indicator,

confirming that he still had three shots left, Navett settled down to wait.

He didn't have to wait very long. The stream of refugees from the tapcafe

had barely begun to dwindle when  a  white  Extinguisher  speeder  truck  came

roaring around the corner and braked to a hard  stop  at  one  corner  of  the

building.

Through the side window Navett could see the driver gesticulating as  his

partner scrambled out and started  climbing  the  outside  ladder  toward  the

pressure turret on top.

He never made it. Resting the muzzle of the Nightstinger on the seat back

for stability, Navett shot him down. His second invisible blast took  out  the

driver; his third and last blew off  the  speeder  truck's  filler  tube  cap,

sending the fire suppressant gushing onto the street to  flow  uselessly  away

from the flames.

He lowered the now empty blaster onto the floor, giving the crowd  around

him a quick look. But no one was paying the slightest attention to  the  human

sitting alone in his landspeeder. Every eye was locked solidly on the  blazing

building, with probably only an occasional brief thought turned to the  puzzle

of the two Bothan Extinguishers who had suddenly and inexplicably collapsed.

The flow of customers from the tapcafe had stopped now.  Navett  gave  it

thirty more seconds, just to make sure everyone was  out.  Then,  drawing  his

blaster and laying it ready on the seat beside him, he started the landspeeder

and eased his way through the crowd toward the tapcafe's front doors.

He was through the main part of the crowd before anyone  even  seemed  to

notice  what  he  was  doing.  Someone  shouted,  and  a  Bothan  wearing  the

green/yellow police  sash  jumped  out  in  front  of  him,  waving  his  arms

violently. Snatching up his blaster, Navett shot him, veered around the  body,

and leaned hard on the accelerator. Someone  behind  him  was  screaming  now;

bracing himself, Navett increased his speed?

He hit the tapcafe doors with  bone-jarring  force,  smashing  them  into

shards as the landspeeder ground  to  a  halt  right  in  the  middle  of  the

destruction. He was out before the debris finished bouncing off the  vehicle's

roof, snatching the cage of mawkrens from the back and sprinting  through  the

smoke and heat toward the door to the basement and the subbasement beyond it.

He was halfway down the first flight of stairs when, behind him, he heard

the explosion as the heat set off the remaining fluid in the pressurized  tank

he'd left in the landspeeder.

And with the front of the tapcafe now as engulfed in flames as  the  rest

of the building, he was truly and irrevocably cut off from the outside world.

No one in the universe could stop him now.

There was just a hint of smoke in the subbasement?nothing serious, just a

foreshadowing of what would inevitably come. Their equipment  was  just  where

they'd left it, but he took a minute first to run a quick check on the  fusion

disintegrator.

It was a good thing he had. The old woman had been here again, gimmicking

the device to overload and burn out the main control coil when  it  was  first

started.

Grinning humorlessly to himself, Navett ungimmicked it, then spent a  few

more precious minutes reconfiguring the focus  to  extend  the  disintegration

beam a few centimeters out from the canister mouth.

Finally, he was ready. Strapping the mawkren cage awkwardly to his  back,

he dropped into the hole he and Klif had dug and turned on the disintegrator.

The beam cut through the soil  beneath  his  feet  like  a  blaster  bolt

through snow, sending a gale of microscopic dust flowing  up  past  his  face.

Fleetingly, he wished he'd thought to bring a filter mask with him.  Too  late

now. Squinting against the eye-burning wind, he kept going, wondering what the

Bothans were doing about the myriad of alarms he was undoubtedly setting  off.

Running around uselessly, no doubt, particularly once they saw that the source

of the intrusion was totally inaccessible to them.

And some of them would probably sit back and relax, smugly secure in  the

knowledge that losing the power conduit he was digging toward wouldn't  affect

their precious shield in the slightest.  Possibly  they  were  even  having  a

hearty laugh at the foolish Imperial agent who thought he could shut them down

so easily, or who perhaps thought he could  crawl  through  a  ten-centimeter-

diameter conduit.

They wouldn't be laughing that way for long.

It took only a few minutes to dig the rest of the way down to  the  power

conduit.

The conduit shell was heavily armored, and it  took  nearly  ten  minutes

more for the disintegrator beam to eat  its  way  through.  The  power  cables

themselves flash-burned almost instantly once that  happened,  of  course?they

were, after all, only normal power cables, not designed to withstand  anything

more strenuous than high-power electrical current. He kept at it until he  had

carved himself a decently sized hole in the outer shell,  then  shut  off  the

disintegrator and switched on the coolant pack built into the  bottom.  A  few

minutes of systematic spraying, and the area was once  again  cool  enough  to

touch.

He shut off the coolant and sat down by the opening... and in the  sudden

silence, he heard a quiet new sound.

The beep of a comlink. Coming from the disintegrator.

He frowned, checking the device. There it was,  wedged  into  the  refill

intake for the coolant pack. Smiling tightly, he pulled it out and  turned  it

on. "Hello, there," he said. "Everything running to your satisfaction?"

"What in the name of Alderaan dust are you doing?" the old woman's  voice

demanded.

He smiled more broadly, wedging the comlink into his collar  and  opening

the mawkren cage's false bottom. "What's the matter?" he asked, pulling out  a

small tube of food paste. "I didn't actually take you by surprise or anything,

did I?

That was a cute trick with the smoke at the pet shop, by the way. I  take

it you planted that before you left this morning?"

"Yes," she said. "I figured you had all your  good  stuff  upstairs  with

you, or else had it hidden behind walls or ceilings."

"So you planted a delayed-action smoke bomb so  the  Extinguishers  would

come in and open up the walls for you," Navett  said,  opening  the  cage  and

extracting one of the tiny lizards. "Very clever."

"Look, you haven't got time for this chitchat," she growled. "In case you

haven't noticed, that building is burning like a torch over your head."

"Oh, I know," Navett said. Holding the lizard with one hand, he dabbed  a

drop of the food paste onto the end of its nose and set it down into the  hole

he'd cut, pointing it in the direction of the generator building. A  touch  on

one end of the cylindrical bomb activated it, setting it to explode  when  the

lizard reached the blockage where the conduit passed  through  the  reinforced

wall and sent its individual power cables splitting off into a dozen different

directions. He released his grip, and the mawkren scrambled away  through  the

narrow space between the power cables and the  conduit  shell,  following  the

scent it was too stupid to realize was attached to its own nose.

"What do you mean, you know?" the woman asked. "Unless you  do  something

real clever real fast, you're going to die in there. You know that, too?"

"We all have to die sometime," Navett reminded her, dabbing the  nose  of

another mawkren and sending it to follow the first.  It  had  barely  vanished

down the conduit when the faint sound of a small  explosion  echoed  down  the

tube.

There was nothing wrong with the old woman's ears. "What was  that?"  she

asked.

"The death of Bothawui," Navett told her,  dabbing  another  mawkren  and

releasing  it  as  a  second  explosion  sounded.  Now  that  the   fumes   of

disintegrated dirt were dissipating, he could tell that the odor of smoke  was

getting stronger. "You know, we never did figure out what your name  was,"  he

added, pulling out another mawkren and wondering uneasily just  how  fast  the

fire above him was spreading.

If either the flame or smoke got to him before  the  mawkrens  and  their

tiny bombs were able to blow a hole  through  the  group  of  unarmored  power

cables just inside the generator building, he could still lose.  "So  what  is

it?"

"What, my name?" she asked. "You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

"Sorry," he said, releasing the mawkren. "My name might still be  of  use

to someone down the line, even after I myself no longer am." There was another

explosion?

And then, to his relief and immense satisfaction, a breath  of  cool  air

drifted up into his face. The power cables had been  blown  apart  inside  the

wall, and the generator building had been laid open to him.

"Look, Imperial?"

"Conversation's over," Navett cut her off. "Enjoy the fire."

He clicked off the comlink and tossed it aside. Then he tipped  the  cage

over, allowing the rest of the mawkrens to  swarm  free.  For  a  moment  they

swirled around his lap and feet, getting their balance and sniffing  the  air.

Then, in a sudden concerted rush, they clawed their way  past  each  other  to

disappear down the conduit. Drawn now not by food paste on their noses, but by

the tiny spots of liquid nutrient he and  Klif  had  so  carefully  positioned

three days ago as they'd sprayed for metalmites.

And there remained just one final task for him to perform. Reaching  into

the bottom of the cage, he pulled out the last item there: the  remote  arming

signaler to activate the rest of the cylinders now being carried toward  their

rendezvous with destiny. A few more seconds and his self-guided bombs would be

spilling out into the generator building around the  startled  Bothans'  feet,

skittering across the polished floor straight to the key points of  the  whole

installation.

Along the conduit, he could hear the faint sounds of  explosions  now  as

the mawkrens reached their targets and the cylinders' proximity fuses began to

ignite. A few more seconds?a  minute  at  the  most?and  the  section  of  the

planetary shield protecting Drev'starn would collapse.

The death of Bothawui had begun. And  with  it,  the  death  of  the  New

Republic.

His only regret was that he wouldn't be around to see it all happen.

Overhead, the sounds of flames could be heard now,  the  crackling  noise

mixing with the fainter staccato of the bombs still going off in the distance.

Smiling up at the ceiling, Navett leaned his back against the dirt  wall.  And

waited for the end.

* * *

The discussions aboard the Predominance had  just  entered  their  fourth

round when the deck below them gave a sudden rumbling vibration. A  sound  and

sensation that Leia had become all too familiar with over the years.

Somewhere in the depths of the Ishori ship, a turbolaser cluster had just

fired.

The captain was on the intercom even before the  rumble  had  died  away.

"What is the firing?" he snarled.

The answer tumbled out in Ishori, too fast and  too  faint  for  Leia  to

follow. "What is happening?" Gavrisom demanded. "You agreed there would be  no

hostilities while?"

"It is not us," the captain snarled, diving for the  door.  "Aliens  have

taken over one of our weapons clusters and are firing at the ground."

"What?" Gavrisom asked, blinking. "But how??"

But the captain was already  gone,  taking  the  door  guards  with  him.

"Councilor Organa Solo??" Gavrisom  began,  breaking  off  as  another  rumble

rolled through the ship. "Councilor, what is happening here?"

Leia shook her head. "I don't?"

And suddenly she jerked in her seat, inhaling sharply, as a surge of fear

and pain and death shot through her. On the planet below, voices  were  crying

out in terror...

And in that single, horrifying instant, she knew what had happened.

"The planetary shield's down," she snapped, getting out of her chair  and

rushing to the viewport. She reached it just in time to see  a  third  massive

turbolaser blast burn its way from  the  underside  of  the  ship  toward  the

surface. There was a flash of white as it sizzled through the atmosphere;  and

then the distortion cleared, leaving an angry, black-tinged red glow behind.

Drev'starn, the Bothan capital, was on fire.

She turned back, heading for  the  door.  "It's  down,  all  right,"  she

shouted to Gavrisom as she ran past him. "At least over Drev'starn."

"Where are you going?" Gavrisom called after her.

"To try to stop the shooting," Leia called back.

Outside, a dozen armor-clad  Ishori  were  charging  down  the  corridor,

blaster carbines at the ready. Pressed against the bulkheads, trying  to  stay

out of the way, her two Noghri guards looked up at her. "Councilor??"

"Come on," Leia told  them.  Unhooking  her  lightsaber  from  her  belt,

stretching out to the Force for strength and wisdom, she joined  in  with  the

flow.

* * *

Han hit the Falcon's cockpit at a full  run,  skidding  to  a  halt  just

barely in front of the control board. "Where?" he barked,  dropping  into  the

pilot's seat.

"There," Elegos said tightly, pointing through the viewport at  the  dark

ship lying in space not two kilometers away. "I don't know whose ship  it  is,

but?"

He broke off as another flash of red fire cut through the black of  space

on its way toward the planet below. "There?did you see it?"

"Oh, yeah, I saw it," Han snarled, a hard jab of fear punching  up  under

his heart as he slapped at the emergency start-up switches. Elegos might  have

lost track of which ship was which out there, but he  hadn't.  That  shot  had

come from the flagship of the Ishori task force, the war cruiser Predominance.

The ship Leia was currently aboard.

There was another flash, again heading down toward the Bothawui  surface.

"You know how to release a docking collar?" Han snapped at Elegos,  his  hands

darting over the control boards.

"Yes, I think so?"

"Do it," Han cut him off. "Now."

"Yes, sir." Lunging out of his seat, the Caamasi headed aft.

The engines were starting to come up to power now. Han  keyed  the  comm,

setting for full-frequency scan. There was going to be hell to  pay  for  this

one, all right, no matter what the Ishori thought they were  doing.  The  sync

numbers for the stabilizer he'd just installed were coming in now;  it  seemed

to be firming up?

"All ships, this is New Republic  President  Gavrisom,"  Gavrisom's  taut

voice boomed from the cockpit speaker. "Stand your  positions  and  hold  your

fire; repeat, please stand down and hold your  fire.  The  incident  currently

under way is not?"

He never got  to  finish  his  plea.  Abruptly  there  was  a  squawk  of

blanketing jamming static on that frequency, drowning him out?

"Attack!" a new voice bit out. "All Corellian forces, attack at will!"

Han gaped at the speaker. What in blazes was the Corellian doing?

And then the scan locked on to another frequency.  "Attack!"  a  guttural

Mon Calamari voice rumbled. "All Mon Cal ships, attack."

[Attack,] a Diamalan voice called calmly in their own language on another

frequency.

{Attack,} came the snarling Ishori reply on yet another.

Han looked out at the mass of ships, heart thudding in  his  throat.  No.

No?this was insane. Surely they wouldn't.

But they were. All around the area,  the  various  warships  were  coming

sluggishly to life, heading for the better maneuverability of open sky or else

simply turning their weapons to target their opponents.

And even as he watched, the first flashes of turbolaser fire began.

Behind him, Elegos charged back into the cockpit. "The collar's released,

" he announced, breathing heavily as he resumed his seat. "We can leave?"

He broke  off,  staring  in  disbelief  at  the  scene  outside.  "What's

happened?" he gasped. "Han?what's going on?"

"It's just what it looks like," Han said grimly.

"The New Republic is at war."

CHAPTER

37

It was a trip of only perhaps fifteen minutes, as the Qom  Qae  flew,  to

the far side of the Hand of Thrawn and the lake Child Of Winds had  mentioned.

At first Luke had been skeptical of the whole idea, concerned about the  young

aliens' ability to handle the weight  of  their  passengers,  not  to  mention

whether or not they would be able to keep out of sight and targeting range  of

what were surely by now a seriously hostile group of enemies in the fortress.

But the Qom Qae had surprised him on both  counts;  and  as  they  weaved

expertly in and out of the cover of trees and rocks and mountain  gullies,  he

almost began to relax about this phase of the operation. Mara, too,  he  could

sense, had already turned her thoughts ahead to what they would  find  at  the

end of the short flight.

The same, unfortunately, could not be said of  Artoo.  Suspended  in  the

center of the framework they'd rigged out of their last lengths of syntherope,

he moaned and gurgled the whole way.

The cut in the rock was no more than ten meters  from  the  edge  of  the

lake, descending at a fairly steep angle from  under  a  partial  overhang  of

grass-clumped soil. "At least the  rock  isn't  too  rough,"  Mara  commented,

running a hand experimentally along the lower surface. "Probably worn down  by

years of little fire creeper feet running over it."

Artoo seemed to shudder, warbling uncomfortably. "I doubt we'll run  into

any more of them this time around," Luke  soothed  him  as  he  untangled  the

syntherope and tucked it back into the droid's  storage  compartment.  "Swarms

that size can't travel too close together?there won't be enough food for  them

all."

"Let's just hope they're smart enough to know that," Mara added.

You are fortunate you have come when you did, Child Of Winds said.  There

has been much rain in the past few seasons, and the Lake  of  Small  Fish  has

been growing ever larger.

"And have the small fish been getting bigger, too?" Mara asked.

Child Of Winds fluttered his wings. I do not know. Is it important?

Mara shook her head. "It was a joke. Skip it."

Oh. Child Of Winds looked back at Luke. I simply  meant  that  soon  this

entrance may be covered over with water.

"I understand," Luke said. "But for the moment it's not, and you  got  us

here safely."

It was to our great honor, Child Of Winds said. What do you wish us to do

now?

"You've done more than enough already," Luke  assured  him.  "Thank  you.

Thank you all."

Shall we wait for you? the Qom Qae persisted. We would be honored to wait

and take you again to your flying machine.

Luke hesitated. A ride back to the ship could be very useful indeed.

Unfortunately?"The problem is that I have no idea where we'll  be  coming

out," he said.

Then we will watch, Child Of Winds said firmly.  And  others  will  watch

also.

"Yes, all right," Luke agreed, anxious to cut off the discussion and  get

on their way. "Thank you."

"So what's our marching order?" Mara asked.

"I'll go first," Luke said, sitting down on the edge  of  the  slope  and

putting his legs into the opening. "Artoo  next,  you  last.  I'll  watch  for

bottlenecks and try to widen them as I pass. If I miss  one,  you'll  have  to

deal with it."

"Right,"  Mara  said,  pulling  her  lightsaber  from  her  belt.  "Happy

landings, and try not to cut off your own feet along the way."

"Thanks." Igniting his lightsaber,  holding  the  blade  ready  over  his

outstretched legs, Luke eased onto the slope and started down.

It wasn't nearly as bad as he'd feared. Years of little fire creeper feet

might indeed have smoothed down the rock; more importantly, they'd  also  worn

away most of whatever obstructions might once have existed there.  Only  twice

did he have to slice out pieces of rock as he slid his bouncy way down, and in

one of those cases it probably hadn't really been necessary.  Behind  him,  he

could hear the much louder metallic clattering as Artoo slid down  the  slope,

almost but not quite covering up his continual unhappy twittering.

The slope emptied into one of the same sort of tunnels they'd  spent  far

too much time in over the past couple of weeks. Luke caught Artoo as  he  fell

out, getting him out of the way in time to give Mara  a  clear  landing  spot.

"Well, here we are again," she said, playing her  glow  rod  around.  "Doesn't

look particularly familiar. Any guesses as to which way?"

"From the position of  the  fortress,  I'd  say  that  way,"  Luke  said,

pointing to the left.

"Okay," Mara said. "Let's go."

The Qom Qae, whether by design or simple luck, had chosen their  entrance

well.

They had gone no more than a hundred meters along the  tunnel  when  Luke

rounded a curve to see an all-too-familiar natural stone archway in  the  near

distance. "We're here," he murmured back toward Mara. "Be ready; if they  know

about the stairway, they'll probably have guards waiting for us inside."

There were no guards. Fifteen minutes later, having struggled through the

narrow gap in the cortosis-laden rock, they were once again  standing  in  the

underground room.

"I guess they don't know about the stairway, after all," Mara  commented,

playing her glow rod across the cut they'd made earlier in  the  yellow  inner

wall.

"Or else don't have any way of getting into it," Luke reminded her. "Even

the locking mechanism on those doors seemed to be made of Hijarna stone."

"Don't misunderstand?I'm just as happy to give  them  a  miss  this  time

through," Mara hastened to say. "I wonder how many of those power conduits are

running at the moment?"

"Probably more than the last time we went through,"  Luke  said,  turning

his glow rod to point the other way. As before, the far end of  the  room  was

lost in the shadows beyond the light. "I wonder how long this room is?"

"It can't be too long," Mara pointed out. "There's a lake somewhere  that

direction, remember?"

"Right," Luke agreed. "Got any sage advice before we start?"

"Just that we be careful," Mara said, joining him. "Side by side as  long

as we can with the droid behind us, lightsabers and senses ready."

"Succinct and practical," Luke said, stretching out ahead  of  them  with

the Force.

There was no danger yet that he could sense. "Come on, Artoo."

Mara's point about the room's size turned out to  be  correct.  They  had

gone only a few steps when the back wall came within range of their glow rods.

In the center was an open archway leading farther back into the rock.

Not the rough natural rock of the caverns, though. The walls and floor of

this passageway were smooth and finished.

"Interesting," Mara said, playing her glow rod around as they stood  just

outside the archway. "Notice anything peculiar about the ceiling?"

"It hasn't been smoothed down like the walls have," Luke said, eyeing the

jutting rock hanging down from the arched ceiling.

"I wonder," Mara murmured. "Artoo, your sensors getting anything?"

Artoo warbled a rather distressed-sounding negative, and Luke leaned over

to check the datapad translation. "He says the output from the power generator

is masking pretty much everything else," he told Mara. "That's probably  where

that hum is coming from, too. You think there's something else up there?"

"Keeper Of Promises said this area was lethal to Qom Jha," Mara  reminded

him. "And we all know how much Qom Jha like to hang from ceilings."

"And we had that cave of predators who eat flying things like  Qom  Jha."

Luke nodded, seeing where she was going with this. "And a bunch of Chiss up in

the fortress who think of them as vermin."

"Not to mention that layer of cortosis ore back there," Mara said. "Which

I still don't believe got there naturally. This place has  defense  rings  six

ways from Coruscant."

"As one would expect with Thrawn in charge of it," Luke  said.  "Question

is, do we try to do something about that ceiling, or assume it isn't something

that will bother us?"

"It's never a good idea to leave a danger at your back,"  Mara  declared,

taking a step just inside the archway. "Here goes." Igniting  her  lightsaber,

she hurled it expertly up to slice into the rocky ceiling.

There was a brilliant  flash,  the  crackle  and  stench  of  high-energy

current?

And suddenly the whole ceiling seemed to collapse.

Mara was back out of the room in an instant, even  as  Luke  ignited  his

lightsaber and jabbed it protectively  over  where  her  head  had  been.  The

ceiling fell onto it, draping itself over the green-white blade for  a  second

before it was cut through and fell the rest of the way onto the floor.

"How cute," Mara said,  peering  in  over  his  shoulder.  "It's  like  a

sculpted Conner net. A Qom Jha settles to a  landing,  there's  a  high-energy

discharge that fries him, and the whole thing drops to take  out  any  of  his

friends who happen to be with him."

"That's cute, all right," Luke murmured, poking at the netting  with  the

tip of his lightsaber. "Question is, is it safe now for us to walk over?"

"Probably," Mara said. "Conner nets are  usually  single-charge  gadgets,

and it doesn't do much good to leave it active once it's on the floor."

"Makes sense," Luke said, stretching out to the Force  as  he  eased  his

foot out over the net. No tingling of danger... and sure enough, his foot came

down onto the net without even a spark of residual charge.  "It's  clear,"  he

said.

"Hold it!" Mara hissed, taking  a  long  step  forward  and  putting  her

lightsaber handle across his chest to stop him, her sleeve blaster now gripped

in her free hand. "Something's coming."

Luke stopped, listening to the soft clicking of feet on rock.  More  than

one something, too, by the sound of it. He played his glow rod down the tunnel

trying to see what was coming...

And abruptly, from a group of narrow side openings he hadn't noticed came

a swarm of fist-sized insectlike creatures scuttling rapidly across the  walls

toward them.

"Watch it!" Mara snapped, her blaster tracking.

"No, wait," Luke said, pushing her arm  to  the  side  off  target.  He'd

caught a glint of metal... "Just keep moving. Artoo, come on, hurry."

He could sense Mara's strong  disapproval,  but  she  did  as  instructed

without argument. The skittering creatures passed  them  by  without  slowing,

apparently without even so much as a second glance. Luke reached  the  end  of

the collapsed Conner net and stepped off onto the stone floor; and as Mara and

Artoo did likewise, he turned around to look.

The creatures had  grouped  themselves  around  the  front  edge  of  the

collapsed net.

Even as Luke watched, they began to ease their careful way up the  walls,

carrying the edge of the net with them.

Beside him, Mara snorted gently. "Of course," she said,  sounding  mildly

disgusted with herself. "Maintenance droids, there  to  get  the  trap  reset.

Sorry?I guess I overreacted a bit."

"Considering it's Thrawn we're dealing with, overreaction isn't likely to

be a problem very often," Luke said.

"Thanks, but you don't have to try to soothe my feelings," Mara told him,

sliding the sleeve gun away and shifting her  lightsaber  to  her  right  hand

again.

"Lesson learned. Shall we go?"

* * *

"What in the Empire are you  talking  about?"  Captain  Nalgol  demanded,

blinking the sleep from his eyes as he grabbed for  his  uniform  and  started

pulling it on.

"How can they be shooting at each other? The flash point is  still  three

days away."

"I don't know, sir," the Tyrannic's duty officer said tautly. "All I know

is that the probe ships report the battle has begun, and that the  section  of

planetary shield over the Bothan capital has collapsed. It's hard to tell from

this distance, but they say the capital appears  to  be  on  fire  in  several

places."

Nalgol swore viciously under  his  breath.  Someone  had  blundered,  and

blundered badly. Either the Intelligence strike team?

Or Thrawn himself.

It was a shocking thought. A shattering thought, even. If Thrawn's timing

could be that far in error?

He shook away his misgivings.  What  was  done  was  done;  and  whatever

mistakes or miscalculations had been made, he was determined that he  and  the

Tyrannic wouldn't add  to  them.  "Have  the  Obliterator  and  Ironhand  been

informed?" he asked, grunting out the last word as he leaned over to  pull  on

his boots.

"Yes, sir. Probe ships report they're coming to full battle stations now.

"

"Make sure we get there ahead of them," Nalgol told him tartly.

"Yes, sir,"  the  officer  said  again.  "Estimate  we'll  be  at  battle

readiness in five minutes. Probe ships are continuing to feed us reports."

"Good," Nalgol muttered. Now that the shock of the news  was  fading,  he

realized it wasn't quite as bad as it had first  seemed.  All  right,  so  the

battle had started early. The three Star Destroyers were ready,  or  would  be

before their presence was needed to eliminate  the  survivors  of  the  battle

raging out there.

And blinded by the cloaking shield as they were, they  definitely  needed

up-to-the-minute reports from the probe ships. The danger was that,  with  the

ships dipping in and out of the shield with that kind of  regularity,  someone

might notice something odd happening around the comet head and  come  over  to

investigate.

But there was a  way  to  minimize  that  risk.  "Put  all  tractor  beam

operators on full alert," he ordered. "If  any  ship  besides  our  own  probe

ships?and I mean any ship?pokes its nose inside the cloaking shield, I want it

grabbed and held inside out of communication. Make sure that message  gets  to

the other ships, too.

No one is going  to  stumble  in  on  us  and  live  to  talk  about  it.

Understood?"

"Understood, sir," the officer said.

"I'll be on the bridge in two minutes," Nalgol said, grabbing  his  tunic

and belt.

"I want the ship at full battle readiness by the time I get there."

"We will be, sir."

Nalgol slapped off the intercom and headed out the door of his  quarters.

Fine; so the aliens and alien-lovers couldn't contain  their  self-destructive

hatreds as long as Thrawn had expected. Fine. It just meant that  the  pent-up

boredom and frustration of his crew would get released a little earlier.

Smiling grimly, he headed down the corridor toward  the  turbolift  at  a

carefully measured walk. This was going to be a pleasure.

* * *

A turbolaser flashed, its lethal red beam sizzling  perilously  close  to

the Falcon's starboard side on its way toward an Escort Frigate with  Prosslee

markings. Han spun the  ship  away  from  a  second  shot,  dodged  the  other

direction barely in time to avoid a pair of Bagmim customs ships driving  with

laser cannon blazing toward the Prosslee.

The whole universe had gone mad. With him square in the middle of it.

"What happened over there?" he called toward the comm, weaving between  a

pair of Opquis gunships.

"According to the Ishori, three humans came aboard  about  half  an  hour

ago," Leia's voice came back, the sound  of  an  alert  tone  droning  in  the

background. "They had New Republic tech IDs and a letter from the Ishori  High

Conflux authorizing them to examine the  Predominance's  power  couplings  for

oxidation damage."

"All phony, of course,"  Han  growled,  maneuvering  the  Falcon  into  a

relatively clear space and looking around. It was like Endor  all  over  again

out there.

Except that this time the Empire was nowhere to be seen.  It  was  Rebels

fighting other Rebels.

"We know that now," Leia agreed. "Once aboard, they killed  their  escort

and took over one of the turbolaser clusters. When the Drev'starn shield  went

down... Han, they got eight shots off onto the surface before we were able  to

cut off power to their cluster. The Ishori still haven't been  able  to  storm

the room and get to them, even with Barkhimkh and Sakhisakh helping them."

Beside Han, Elegos murmured something in the Caamasi language.  "How  bad

did Drev'starn get hit?" Han asked. "Never  mind?that's  not  important  right

now. What's happening with you and the ship?"

"We're under attack," Leia said, her voice tense. "Three  Diamalan  ships

have joined up against us, one of them sitting between us and  the  planet  in

case we try to fire on Drev'starn again. No serious damage yet, I don't think,

to either side. But that can't last."

"Didn't you tell them what happened?" Han asked.

"I told them, the Predominance's captain told them, Gavrisom told  them,"

Leia said. "They're not listening."

"Or else don't care," Han said, clenching his teeth hard enough to  hurt.

Leia, trapped aboard a ship under massive attack... "Look, I'm going to try to

get over there," he told her. "Maybe I can at least get you and Gavrisom off."

"No?stay away," Leia said sharply. "Please. You'd never make it."

Han gazed bitterly out at the swirling battle. She was right, of  course;

from his new vantage point he could see the Predominance now and the storm  of

turbolaser fire raking across it, and he knew full well the  Falcon's  shields

wouldn't stand a chance in there. But he couldn't just sit  out  here  and  do

nothing. "Look, I've outfought Star Destroyers before," he said.

"You've  outmaneuvered  them,"  Leia  corrected  him.  "There's   a   big

difference.

Please, Han, don't try to?"

There was a squawk, and suddenly she was cut off.  "Leia!"  Han  shouted,

his chest tightening as he looked back at the Ishori  war  cruiser.  It  still

seemed intact; but all it would take would be a single  lucky  shot  into  the

bridge area?

"She's all right," Elegos said, pointing at the  comm  display.  "They're

just being jammed again."

Han let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "We've got  to

do something," he said, searching the sky for inspiration. "We've got  to  get

her off that ship?"

The comm crackled back to life. "Leia?"  Han  called,  leaning  hopefully

toward the speaker.

"Solo?" a male voice called. "It's Carib Devist."

Han grimaced. "What do you want? We're kind of busy out here."

"No kidding," Carib snapped. "And whose fault do you think that is?"

"We already know,"  Han  growled.  "Some  troublemakers  got  aboard  the

Predominance and started shooting. Probably Imperials."

"Definitely Imperials," Carib retorted. "And it was other  Imperials  who

stirred the rest of the crowd into doing likewise. Or  didn't  you  hear  them

broadcasting recorded attack orders in a half-dozen different languages?"

Han threw a glower at Elegos, feeling a stab of chagrin at having totally

missed reality on that one. So that was what those small Imperial ships  Carib

had identified had been hanging around Bothawui for. Obvious.

Or at least it would have been obvious if anyone out there  had  bothered

to take a minute to think it through. But nobody had.

"But that can wait," Carib went on. "I called to warn you  that  I  think

there's something happening out by the head of that comet."

"Yeah? What sort of something?" Han asked, his attention already back  on

the Predominance and how in space he was going to get Leia off it.

"I don't  know,"  Carib  said.  "But  there  are  a  dozen  mining  ships

fluttering around the area. All of them flying under Imperial pilots."

Han frowned at the comm speaker. "What are you talking about? What  would

Imperials want with ore buckets?"

"I tell you they're Imperial pilots," Carib insisted. "Their whole flying

style just screams it out."

"Okay, fine," Han said, not really interested in arguing the  point.  "So

what do you want me to do about it?"

There was a hiss of exhaled breath from the speaker. "We're going  to  go

check it out," he  said,  sounding  disgusted.  "Under  the  circumstances,  I

thought you might be interested in taking  a  look  yourself.  Sorry  to  have

bothered you."

The comm clicked off. "I'm sorry,  too,"  Han  muttered.  He  glanced  at

Elegos?

Paused for another look. "What?" he snarled.

The Caamasi lifted his hands, palms up. "I said nothing."

"What, you think I should just take off and head out there with him?" Han

demanded. "Just leave Leia and go running off on a wild-tresher hunt?"

"Can you help her at the moment?" Elegos countered mildly. "Can you  free

her, or defeat the attacking ships, or halt the battle itself?"

"That's not the point," Han bit out. "Ten to one they're just some miners

who used to fly for the Empire. There are thousands of  them  around  the  New

Republic?it doesn't mean a thing."

"Perhaps," Elegos said. "You must balance that against all the rest."

"All the rest of what?"

"The rest of all things," Elegos said. "Your knowledge  of  Carib  Devist

and his observational abilities. Your belief?or lack of it?that he did not, in

fact, betray you to the Empire while you were on Bastion. Your own  experience

with Imperial procedure and style, and whether you believe someone of  Carib's

skills could recognize them. Your trust in your wife and her reading  of  this

man."

He lifted his eyebrows slightly. "And most of all, your innate  sense  of

what is right and good. If there is indeed danger  of  some  sort  out  there,

whether you should leave him to face it alone."

"He isn't exactly alone," Han grumbled. "He's got a whole  bunch  of  his

other clones with him."

Elegos didn't reply. Han sighed and did a quick search of the sky.  There

was Carib's beat-up Action II freighter,  all  right,  driving  out  past  the

boundaries of the battle toward the blazing comet in the distance. All  alone.

"You know, you Caamasi could be a real pain if you worked on it a little," Han

told Elegos, turning the Falcon to follow  and  keying  the  comm  to  Lando's

comlink frequency. "Lando?

Hey, Lando, look alive."

"Yes, Han, what is it?" Lando's tight voice came back.

"You back on the Lady Luck yet?"

"I wish I were," the other said fervently. "I'm stuck on the  Industrious

Thoughts with Senator Miatamia."

Han grimaced. "That's one of the ships attacking Leia?"

"If Leia's  on  the  Predominance,  yes,"  Lando  said,  his  voice  both

disgusted and more than a little bit nervous. "Han,  we've  got  to  get  this

thing stopped, and fast."

"No argument from me, buddy," Han said,  steering  clear  of  a  pair  of

Froffli patrol ships slugging it out with a D'farian  starbarque.  "Gavrisom's

with Leia.

If you can get Miatamia to call off their jamming, maybe he can talk this

thing down."

"I've already tried," Lando sighed. "I'm the last person aboard  anyone's

interested in listening to."

"I know the feeling," Han said. "Look, I need a quick favor. I'm  heading

over to that comet out there with Carib Devist. Put  some  macrobinoculars  on

me, will you, just in case we run into trouble?"

There was a brief pause. "Sure, no problem. Exactly what sort of  trouble

are you expecting?"

"It's probably nothing," Han  said.  "Carib  seems  to  think  there  are

Imperials out there flying ore buckets around. Just keep an eye on us, huh?"

"I will," Lando promised. "Good luck."

Han keyed off the comm and swerved  around  the  last  handful  of  ships

between him and the comet. "Hang on," he told Elegos as he threw full power to

the sublight drive. "Here we go."

* * *

"Easy, now," Bel Iblis warned from Booster's side. "Take it nice and calm

and easy. We're all friends here, with the protection  of  the  outer  defense

perimeter between us and the nasty Rebel attack force.  We're  safe  now,  and

there's no need to look like we're hurrying."

"No, we wouldn't want  to  look  like  that,"  Booster  growled,  staring

uneasily at the huge mass of the Ubiqtorate base  looming  directly  ahead  of

them. Suddenly, his beloved Errant Venture  didn't  seem  nearly  so  big  and

powerful and safe anymore as it used to.

"Steady, Terrik," Bel  Iblis  said.  His  voice,  to  Booster's  thorough

annoyance, was controlled and glacially calm. "The big show's going on  behind

us, remember?

The last thing we want to do is draw their eyes our direction."

Booster nodded, glancing over at the aft display. There was a show  going

on back there, all right, with the New Republic ships taking  a  real  beating

from the Yaga Minor defense perimeter.

Or at least, that was how it was supposed to look. If they were following

orders, they were actually hanging just far enough back to  keep  from  taking

any really serious damage from the massed turbolaser fire. Hopefully,  in  all

the confusion, the Imperials wouldn't notice that. "I don't know," he said. "I

don't like this, Bel Iblis. We got in much too easy."

"General, we've got movement," the officer at the sensor station  called.

"Imperial Star Destroyer, moving up from starboard."

Booster took a few steps forward along the command walkway,  peering  out

the viewport, a bad feeling twisting into his  gut.  The  Star  Destroyer  had

appeared from around the starboard side of the base and had moved  across  the

Errant Venture's vector.

And even as he watched, it stopped there,  between  them  and  the  base.

Floating in space in front of them, as if daring them to pass...

"The ship ID's as the Relentless," someone else  called.  "Captain  Dorja

listed as commander."

Booster's bad feeling turned suddenly even worse.  The  Relentless?wasn't

that the ship that always showed up in the rumors about Grand Admiral Thrawn?

Bel Iblis had come up on  Booster's  side  again.  "General...?"  Booster

murmured.

"I know," Bel Iblis said, the calmness bending just a bit.  "But  running

now would only make us look guilty. All we can do is play it through."

"Transmission from the Relentless, General,"  the  comm  officer  called.

"They're asking to speak to Captain Nalgol."

Booster looked at Bel Iblis. "All we can do  is  play  it  through,"  Bel

Iblis repeated. "Go on, give it a try."

"Sure." Taking a deep breath, Booster caught the comm officer's  eye  and

nodded.

The man threw a  switch  and  nodded  back?"This  is  Commander  Raymeuz,

temporarily in command of the Imperial Star Destroyer Tyrannic," he called  in

his best imitation of  a  typical  Imperial's  overly  stiff  speech  pattern.

"Captain Nalgol was seriously injured in the last  attack  and  is  undergoing

emergency treatment."

There was a low chuckle from the bridge speakers. "Really," a calm  voice

said. A steady voice; a cultured voice; a voice that scared Booster clear down

to his boots. "This is Grand Admiral Thrawn. You disappoint  me,  General  Bel

Iblis."

Booster looked at Bel Iblis.  The  general  was  still  staring  out  the

viewport, his face not betraying any emotion at all.

"There's really no point in trying  to  maintain  this  charade,"  Thrawn

said. "But perhaps you need a more convincing demonstration."

It was as if someone behind Booster had suddenly yanked a carpet out from

under his feet. Suddenly he was toppling forward, arms flailing  madly  as  he

fought to regain his balance. Around him came the sounds of consternation from

the rest of the bridge crew; from somewhere beyond that came the ominous sound

of creaking metal.

"A small demonstration, as I said," Thrawn  continued,  his  tone  almost

bantering.

"Your Star  Destroyer  is  now  totally  helpless,  pinned  in  place  by

approximately fifty of our heavy-lift tractor beams."

Booster swallowed a curse that wanted desperately to come out.  What  was

it with this ship and tractor beams, anyway?

He started as Bel Iblis tapped him on the arm. The general was glaring at

him, gesturing him impatiently toward the comm station. Booster  glared  back,

took a deep breath. "Admiral Thrawn, sir, what  are  you  doing?"  he  called,

trying to mix respect and bewildered fear into his tone. The latter part  took

no acting whatsoever. "Sir, we have injured officers and crewers aboard?"

"That's enough," Thrawn cut him off coldly. The attempt at casualness had

apparently been too much  for  the  red-eyed  mongrel?it  was  back  to  being

overbearing again. "I respect your courage in making  this  attempt,  but  the

game is over. Must I order the turbolaser batteries  to  commence  taking  the

ship apart?"

Bel Iblis exhaled softly. "No need for that, Admiral," he  called.  "This

is General Bel Iblis."

"Ah?General," Thrawn said. Once again he'd changed tone,  Booster  noted,

this  time  switching  from  cold  threat  to  the  almost  cordial   unspoken

camaraderie  between  fellow  professionals.  The  man  was  nothing  if   not

versatile. "I congratulate you, sir, on your attempt,  futile  though  it  may

have been."

"Thank you, Admiral," Bel Iblis said. "However, I suggest the success  or

failure of the operation has yet to be determined."

"Do you, now," Thrawn said. "Well, then,  let  us  make  it  official.  I

hearby call on you to suspend your diversion and surrender your ship."

Bel Iblis glanced at Booster. "And if I refuse?"

"As I suggested earlier,  General,  you're  lying  helpless  before  me,"

Thrawn said, his voice heavy with menace. "At my  order,  your  ship  will  be

systematically destroyed."

For a long moment the bridge was silent. Booster watched Bel  Iblis;  Bel

Iblis, in turn, was gazing out at the Star Destroyer standing in  their  path.

"I need to discuss this with my officers," he said at last.

"Of course," Thrawn said easily. "Take your  time.  Only  I  suggest  you

don't take too much time. Your diversionary force is  fighting  valiantly,  if

ineffectually, but my patience toward them will not last forever.  Interdictor

Cruisers are already moving into position to trap them there, and the  various

fighter commanders are pleading  to  be  allowed  to  launch  their  TIEs  and

Preybirds."

"Understood," Bel Iblis said. "I'll  deliver  my  answer  as  quickly  as

possible."

He gestured to the comm officer to cut the transmission.  "What  are  you

going to do now?" Booster demanded. The thought of the Errant  Venture  ending

up again in Imperial hands...

"As I promised, I'm going to deliver my answer," Bel Iblis  said  coolly.

"Tanneris, Bodwae, where are those tractor beams originating? From the base or

the defense perimeter?"

"I'm getting  thirty-eight  from  emplacements  in  the  perimeter,"  Bel

Iblis's sensor officer reported.

"Fjifteen more comjing from the base jitself,"  Bodwae  added.  "JI  have

thejir locatjions marked."

"Thank you," Bel Iblis said. "Simons, do we have any freedom of  movement

at all?"

"Not really, sir," the helmsman said. "We're  pinned  pretty  solidly  in

place."

"What about rotational? Can we swivel around a vertical axis?"

"Ah... yes, sir, actually I think we can," the other  said,  frowning  at

his displays. "Probably no more than a quarter turn, though."

"Not nearly enough to turn us around and get the  blazes  out  of  here,"

Booster muttered.

"Getting out isn't the goal," Bel Iblis reminded him. "Simons,  bring  us

around ninety degrees to portside, or as near  to  that  as  you  can  manage.

Portside turbolasers and proton torpedo tubes, prepare to fire at the  defense

perimeter at my command, targeting the tractor beam  emplacements  holding  us

here.

Starboard weapons, same thing, only targeting  the  emplacements  on  the

base."

There was a chorus of acknowledgments. Booster gazed out at the base  and

the Star Destroyer standing ready in front of it;  and  as  he  watched,  they

started moving to the right. Slowly and ponderously, but moving.

He took a step closer to Bel Iblis. "You realize, of course, that  you're

not going to fool anybody with this," he warned. "Least of  all  someone  like

Thrawn.

He's going to see us targeting the tractor beams and  start  slicing  the

ship up beneath us."

Bel Iblis shook his head. "I don't think so. Not  yet,  anyway.  All  the

evidence indicates that he's trying to rebuild  the  Empire,  and  a  mass  of

wreckage won't help him do that. What he really wants from us is a  few  high-

ranking New Republic prisoners he can parade in front of potential converts to

his cause."

"Not to mention picking up an extra Star Destroyer to use against  anyone

who isn't so easily converted?"

"That, too," Bel Iblis conceded. "Bottom line: he's not  going  to  start

shooting until we're nearly free. Maybe not even then."

Booster grimaced. No, Thrawn would be in no hurry. Not  with  the  Errant

Venture on the wrong side of all that firepower waiting at the perimeter.  "So

how are you planning to get us out?"

Bel Iblis shook his head. "I'm not trying to get us out. I  already  told

you that.

We have a job to do; and that job is waiting for us in there." He  nodded

out the viewport at the Ubiqtorate base.

"With Thrawn and a Star Destroyer sitting between  us  and  it?"  Booster

snorted. "Don't take this personally, General, and  I'm  sure  you're  a  fine

military mind and all that. But you try to slug it out with Thrawn  and  we're

all roast dewback."

"I know," Bel Iblis said, his voice suddenly  very  deadly.  "That's  why

we're not going to engage him. At least, not the way he expects us to."

Booster eyed him cautiously. There was something about the  other's  face

and voice that was starting to send shivers through him. "What are you talking

about?"

"We have to get past the Relentless, Terrik,"  Bel  Iblis  said  quietly,

gazing out the viewport. "And we have to disable it enough in the process that

it won't be able to blast our slicers out of the sky before they  can  get  to

the computer extension and cut their way in."

"What about the base's own weapons?"

"And we have to do it fast enough that the base's own weaponry won't have

time to turn on us," Bel Iblis agreed. "Add it all up, and  there's  only  one

way we can possibly pull it off."

Still gazing out the viewport, he seemed to brace himself. "As soon as we

can break clear of the tractor beams, we're going to turn and drive as hard as

we can straight for the Relentless.

"And we're going to ram it."

Booster felt the air go out of him in a silent rush. "You're not serious,

" he breathed.

Bel Iblis turned, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm  sorry,  Booster.

Sorry about your ship; sorry about letting you and your crew  come  aboard  in

the first place."

"General?"  the  helmsman  called.  "We've  got   a   seventy-nine-degree

displacement now. That's the best we're going to get."

For another second, Bel Iblis held Booster's gaze. Then, turning his eyes

away, he stepped past him. "It will  do,"  he  said.  "All  weapons:  commence

firing at tractor beam emplacements."

Abruptly, out the viewport,  a  firestorm  of  turbolaser  fire  erupted,

lancing outward from the  angled  hull  in  both  directions.  "And  helm  and

sublight engines," the general added calmly,  "stand  by  for  full  emergency

power."

* * *

"There he is," Elegos said, pointing. "Over there, just to starboard."

"I see him," Han said. For a minute there he'd lost Carib's freighter  in

the swirling glare of the comet's tail. "You see any  of  the  miners  he  was

talking about?"

"Not yet," Elegos said. "Perhaps he was mistaken."

"Not likely," Han growled, the hairs on the back of his neck starting  to

tingle.

He might not agree that Carib could pick  out  Imperials  just  by  their

flying style; but he sure didn't doubt  the  guy  could  tell  the  difference

between ore buckets and empty space. "I wonder where they  could  have  gotten

to?"

"Perhaps they're being masked by the tail," Elegos suggested.  "They  may

be working on the back quarter of the comet's surface."

"Miners never work back there," Han said, shaking his head. "The dust and

ice foul up alluvial dampers something fierce."

"Then where are they?"

"I don't know," Han said grimly. "But I'm starting  to  get  a  very  bad

feeling about it. Key me a transmission to Carib's freighter, will you?"

Elegos keyed the comm. "Ready."

"Carib?" Han called. "You see anything?"

"Nothing," the other's voice came back. "But they were here, Solo."

"I believe you," Han said, throwing a quick look at the Falcon's  weapons

board.

The quads were ready, keyed remotely down here to  him.  "I  think  maybe

it's time for a real close look at the surface. See what might be tucked  away

in there out of sight."

"Agreed," Carib said. "You want us to lead the way down?"

"That freighter of yours armed?"

There was just the briefest of hesitations. "No, not really."

"Then I'd better take point,"  Han  said,  throwing  more  power  to  the

sublight engines. "Hang back and let me pass you."

"Whatever you say."

"Do you wish me to go to one of the weapons bays?" Elegos asked quietly.

Han threw him a quick glance. "I thought Caamasi hated killing."

"We do," Elegos said soberly. "But we also accept that  there  are  times

when killing a few is necessary for a greater good. This may well  be  one  of

those times."

"Maybe," Han grunted, easing way back on his speed  as  the  Falcon  shot

past the Action II. They were starting to get close in to the comet  now,  and

he didn't want to run into some loose piece of rock that might suddenly decide

to break off into their path. "Don't worry?whatever they're hiding down there,

I should be able to handle it okay by myself. It's not like you can cram a lot

of firepower into one of those ore buckets?"

And right in the middle of his sentence, right before his eyes, the comet

and the stars beyond it abruptly vanished.

And in their place, its lights glowing  evilly  in  the  total  blackness

around it, was the dark shape of an Imperial Star Destroyer.

"Han!" Elegos gasped. "What?"

"Cloaked Star Destroyer!"  Han  snapped  back,  twisting  the  helm  yoke

viciously, the whole plan suddenly coming clear. That battle back  there  over

Bothawui?all those ships beating each other into rubble?with a Star  Destroyer

waiting hidden here, ready to finish them all off and maybe burn  Bothawui  in

the bargain. No survivors, no witnesses, only a battle  everyone  in  the  New

Republic would blame everyone else for.

And the civil war that single battle would spark might never end.

"Get ready on the comm," he told Elegos as the Falcon veered hard  around

back toward the invisible edge of  the  cloaking  shield.  "The  second  we're

clear?"

The order  choked  off  as  he  was  abruptly  thrown  hard  against  his

restraints.

Beneath him, the Falcon jerked to the side like  a  wounded  animal,  the

roar of the sublight engines mixing with the creaking of stressed  joints  and

supports. "What is it?" Elegos gasped.

Han swallowed hard, his hands tightening uselessly on the yoke.  "It's  a

tractor beam," he told the Caamasi, throwing a desperate glance at the  sensor

display.

If it was an edgewise grab, something marginal or tenuous,  he  might  be

able to wiggle his way out.

But no. They had him. They had him solid.

He looked up again as a motion caught his  eye:  Carib's  freighter,  now

inside the cloaking shield with him, twisting helplessly in the same invisible

grip. "They've got us, Elegos," he sighed, the bitter taste of defeat  in  his

mouth.

"They've got us both."

CHAPTER

38

They ran into two more of the disguised Conner nets along the  way,  both

of which Mara insisted on tripping and disposing  of.  Luke  wasn't  convinced

himself that that was necessary; but on the other hand he couldn't see how  it

could hurt, either. If the first net hadn't triggered any alarms?and there was

no indication it had?then taking down  the  other  two  probably  wouldn't  do

anything, either. And at least it gave the insectoid service droids  something

to do that was back out of their way.

The background hum had also increased as they traveled down  the  tunnel,

reaching a volume where Luke could definitely tell it was  coming  from  above

them. The fortress's huge power generator,  undoubtedly,  sealed  safely  away

inside solid rock beyond their reach.

And eventually, after perhaps a hundred meters, the  tunnel  ended  in  a

large, well-lit room.

"I was right," Mara murmured from Luke's side as they stood  together  at

the archway entrance. "I knew he'd have a place like this stashed  away.  Even

in his own fortress, hidden away from his own people. I just knew it."

Luke nodded silently, gazing into the chamber. It was  roughly  circular,

dome-shaped at the top, sixty meters across at the base, and a good  ten  high

at the center, all carved out of solid rock. A three-meter-wide ring of  tiled

floor ran around the outer edge at the level of the tunnel,  dropping  then  a

meter down to the main floor, which was also tiled. Five meters up the  sides,

behind a protective railing, a balcony deeply indented into the rock ran  two-

thirds of the way around the room,  its  inner  walls  lined  with  electronic

equipment.

On the main floor to their far right was a more  modest  version  of  the

command center they'd found in the upper floor of the Hand of Thrawn. This one

was only a single ring of consoles, centered not on a galactic holo but on the

wide, squat cylinder of  a  superstorage  library/computer  information  base.

Again, as in the fortress above, a handful of  glowing  lights  indicated  the

equipment was waiting patiently on standby. The rest of  the  main  floor  was

empty except for a row of furniture lined up against one edge  of  the  raised

walkway beneath a plastic sheet.

But all of that was just background, things to be peripherally noted  and

filed away into his mind for later evaluation. From the first  moment  he  and

Mara had entered the room, Luke's full attention had been focused on the  deep

alcove coming off the main room over to their  left.  Sealed  there  behind  a

solid transparisteel wall was a complete cloning apparatus: a Spaarti cylinder

wrapped in nutrient tubes and flash-learning  cables,  surrounded  by  support

equipment, all of it tied into a humming fusion generator.

And floating gently in the center of the cylinder, asleep or perhaps  not

even yet truly alive, was a blue-skinned adult humanoid. A  humanoid  with  an

exceptionally familiar face.

Grand Admiral Thrawn.

"Ten years," Luke said quietly.  "Just  like  you  said.  Just  like  you

figured. He told them he'd return in ten years."

"The old fraud," Mara muttered,  the  words  in  sharp  contrast  to  the

reluctant awe Luke could sense in her. He could sympathize; the alcove and its

occupant were intimidating in their subtle  grandeur,  and  in  their  equally

quiet threat. "Probably had the cycle set on a ten-year timer and  just  reset

it back to zero every time he dropped by for a visit."

"Probably," Luke agreed, tearing his eyes away from the  almost  hypnotic

sight of the floating clone and looking over at the ring of  consoles  at  the

other end of the room. "Artoo, get over there and find a computer jack you can

link into.

Start downloading everything you can find about the Unknown Regions  area

Thrawn opened up."

The little droid warbled acknowledgment and rolled past him to one of the

half-dozen ramps leading from the outer ring down to the main floor.  He  made

it down the ramp without tipping over and headed for  the  console  ring,  his

wheels clattering rhythmically across the small gaps between the tiles  as  he

went. He stopped beside one of the consoles,  whistled  a  confirmation,  then

extended his computer jack and plugged in.

"He's in," Luke said, turning back to the cloning tank. "Come on, I  want

a closer look at this."

Together, he and Mara circled the room to the transparisteel wall. "Don't

touch it," Mara warned as he  leaned  in  close.  "It's  probably  wired  with

alarms."

"I wasn't going to," Luke assured her, peering inside. From this angle he

could see something that hadn't been visible from the archway. "You  see  what

else he's got in there with him?"

"A couple of ysalamiri." Mara nodded. "Just  in  case  a  wandering  Jedi

happened by."

"Thrawn was the type to think of everything."

"He sure was," Mara agreed. "Except maybe that lake out there."

Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Over there," Mara said, half turning and pointing across the room.

Luke turned to look. There was the rock wall, and the  furniture  beneath

the plastic sheet, and the upper equipment balcony  running  around  the  dome

above it.

"What exactly am I looking at?" he asked.

"The water damage," she said, pointing again. "On the  wall  across  from

the tunnel mouth. See?"

"I do now," Luke said, nodding.  The  wall  over  there  was  subtly  but

definitely discolored, the stain marked with  multiple  vertical  lines  where

water had seeped through the rock and dripped down. In fact, now that  he  was

paying attention, he could see water oozing slowly through the rock in a dozen

places. "Child Of Winds said the lake had been  expanding,"  he  said.  "Looks

like it found a way in through the caverns."

He turned back. "I'd say our clone reached  his  ten-year  mark  just  in

time."

"What do you think he'll be like?" Mara asked, her voice sounding odd. "I

mean, how close to the original Thrawn will he be?"

Luke shook his head.  "That's  an  argument  that's  been  going  on  for

decades," he said. "With the same  genetic  structure  plus  a  flash-learning

pattern taken directly from the  templet,  a  clone  should  theoretically  be

completely identical to the original person. But despite that,  they're  never

exactly the same. Maybe some of the mental  subtleties  get  blurred  over  in

transition, or maybe there's something else unique inside  us  that  a  flash-

learning reader isn't able to pick up."

He nodded toward the  clone.  "He'll  presumably  have  all  of  Thrawn's

memories. But will he have his genius, or his leadership, or his single-minded

drive? I don't know."

He looked at Mara. "Which I suppose leads us to the question of  what  we

do with him."

"Funny you should ask that," Mara said pensively.  "Ten  years  ago,  I'd

have said flat out we blast our way in and get rid of  him.  Maybe  even  five

years ago. But now... it's not so simple anymore."

Luke studied her profile, trying to sort through the mixture of  emotions

swirling through her. "You really were spooked by all that talk about  distant

threats, weren't you?"

To his mild surprise, she didn't take offense. "Fel and Parck are worried

about it," she reminded him. "You willing to bet they're both wrong?"

"Not really," Luke conceded, looking back at the clone. "I'm just  trying

to imagine what having Thrawn suddenly show up would do to the New Republic.

Widespread panic would be my guess, with  Coruscant  scrambling  to  find

enough ships for a preemptive strike at what's left of the Empire."

"You don't think they'd listen to what he had to say?"

"The way Thrawn carved his way through the New Republic the  last  time?"

Luke shook his head. "They wouldn't trust him for a minute."

"You're probably right," Mara said. "Parck said there  were  rumors  he'd

returned, though how a rumor like that could get started I don't know. But  he

didn't mention what the reaction had been."

"And rumors are a lot different than if he actually walked in the  door,"

Luke pointed out.

For a minute they stood there in silence. Then Luke took a  deep  breath.

"I suppose it's an academic argument, really, when you come down  to  it,"  he

said. "Whatever the original Thrawn might have  done,  this  particular  being

hasn't  done  anything  wrong.  Certainly  nothing  that  deserves  a  summary

execution."

"True," Mara agreed. "Though I imagine you'd have trouble convincing some

people of that. Next question, then: do we leave him here to wake up  normally

and join our friends upstairs? Bearing in mind that they're not too happy with

either us or the New Republic at the moment? Or do we see if we can  speed  up

the growth process and take him back to Coruscant?"

Luke whistled softly under his breath. "You sure know  how  to  find  the

hard questions, don't you?"

"I've never had to find a  hard  question  in  my  life,"  she  countered

tartly. "They've always found me first."

Luke smiled. "I know the feeling."

"I'd rather you knew the answer," she said. "Bottom line: could Coruscant

handle it?"

From across the room came a sudden flurry of warbling.  Luke  turned,  to

see Artoo bouncing back and forth excitedly on his stubby legs. "What is  it?"

he called. "You find the Unknown Regions data?"

The droid twittered impatiently. "Okay, okay, I'll be right there,"  Luke

soothed him, heading for the nearest ramp down to the main floor.  He  started

to pass the sheet-covered furniture?

And paused, looking at the collection. There were half a dozen chairs  of

various types under there, plus a bed, a table, and a couple  of  things  that

looked like storage end tables. "What do you suppose this is  all  about?"  he

called back to Mara.

"Looks like the stuff he'll need to make this place into  a  cozy  little

apartment once he's out," Mara suggested, dropping down to the main floor  and

coming up beside him. "He'll want some time to recover, maybe  get  caught  up

with what's been happening out there over the past ten years. In fact, I'd run

you ten to one that console ring's got a direct feed from  whatever  news/data

links they've got upstairs."

"Yes, but why is it all piled here instead of laid out waiting for him?"

Luke asked. "It's not like  Thrawn  wouldn't  have  known  what  kind  of

arrangement his clone would like."

"Interesting point," Mara agreed, her voice suddenly uneasy.

Luke threw her a look. "What is it?"

"I don't know," she said slowly, looking around. "Something just suddenly

felt wrong."

Luke looked around the  room,  too.  Nothing  seemed  threatening...  but

suddenly he was feeling it, too. "Maybe we ought to get Artoo and clear out of

here," he suggested quietly. "Take whatever he's got and just go."

"Let's first see how much he's got," Mara said. She  turned  back  toward

the droid and took a step?

"Who dares disturb the sleep of the  Syndic  Mitth'raw'nuruodo?"  a  deep

voice thundered from above them.

Luke dropped into a half crouch, lightsaber reflexively raised above him.

He looked up?

To an extraordinary sight. Above the railing and  second-level  equipment

balcony, a large ovate section of the stone ceiling was undulating  like  some

sort of rocky fluid. Even as he watched, it slowly formed itself into a  giant

face looking down at  them.  "Who  dares  disturb  the  sleep  of  the  Syndic

Mitth'raw'nuruodo?" the voice repeated.

"Now that's a nice trick," Mara murmured. "Well, go ahead?answer it."

Luke took a careful breath. "We're friends," Luke called.  "We  mean  the

Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo no harm."

The fluid eyes seemed to focus on him. "Who dares disturb  the  sleep  of

the Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo?"

Luke looked at Mara. "A recording?"

"Sounds like it," she agreed tightly. "But what good  does  a  recording?

watch it!"

But Luke was  already  spinning  around,  lightsaber  flashing  out  into

defensive position in front of him, as his own senses flared a warning.

There were two of them, standing there on the upper section of  floor:  a

pair of large, thickset sentinel droids on treaded bases, each  with  a  heavy

blaster gripped in its right hand.

"Get behind me!" Luke snapped to Mara, taking a short step  in  front  of

her.

Just in time. Even as he stretched  out  to  the  Force,  both  sentinels

opened fire.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he heard Mara snarl from behind him. "A big fat

diversion?the oldest trick on the list. And I fell for it like some dumb  farm

kid."

"Watch your language," Luke warned. The sentinels were good, laying out a

systematic targeting pattern that would have quickly taken out most opponents.

So far, though, he was easily staying ahead of them. "Can you do anything

about them?"

Her reply was a spitting of blaster fire over his shoulder raking  across

the sentinels' joints and glowing eyes. But there was no effect. "No  good?the

armor's too thick for my blaster," she said. "Let me try?"

"Watch it?he's moving," Luke cut her off. The sentinel on  the  left  had

suddenly started rolling on its treads along the raised floor ring toward  the

far end of the room, blaster still firing. Luke clenched his teeth, stretching

out harder to the Force, feeling sweat breaking out on his forehead. With  the

source of the blaster bolts now coming from two different directions?and  with

the separation between them growing ever  wider?it  was  becoming  harder  and

harder for him to physically get the lightsaber  blade  back  and  forth  fast

enough to block the shots. Behind him, he heard the snap-hiss as Mara  ignited

her own lightsaber?

Followed by a sudden yelp and a muffled thud.

"What happened?" Luke snapped, not daring to take his attention  off  the

sentinels.

"Don't try to walk," Mara warned, her voice inexplicably coming from  the

floor beneath him. "Thrawn left another surprise for unwanted guests."

Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"

Out of the corner of  his  eye,  he  saw  the  blue-white  blade  of  her

lightsaber cut across one of the shots from the more distant sentinel, now  at

the far end of the room. "Okay, I've got this one,"  she  said.  "If  you  can

spare a second, take a look at the floor."

Letting the Force guide his hands, Luke risked a quick look down  at  his

feet.

One glance was all he needed. The floor had sprouted loops of green-black

cord that had formed themselves into a tangled mass around their feet.  "Looks

like they extruded themselves out of the cracks between the tiles," Mara  went

on. "First step I took my foot tried to catch in one of the loops."

"Clever," Luke agreed tightly. "I guess that  rules  out  any  chance  of

running for it."

"At least we know now why all the furniture's stacked off to  the  side,"

Mara added. "You don't want to clutter your killing field with a lot of  stuff

the victims might be able to hide behind. Luke, this  other  sentinel's  still

coming."

Luke risked a glance. The second sentinel had rounded the far end of  the

room and was now rolling steadily around the other side.

And in maybe ten seconds it would reach  a  point  directly  across  from

Mara.

"Quick?before it gets any closer," he told her, easing a  little  to  his

left so he could again defend against both sentinels. "Use your lightsaber  on

it."

"Right," Mara said, and through his haze of  concentration  he  felt  her

emotional twinge at the memory of her less than perfect handling of the weapon

back in the chamber  where  they'd  taken  out  all  of  the  stalactites  and

stalagmites together.

But the moment passed; and as he leaned hard into the effort of  blocking

the barrage of shots he saw the flash as her lightsaber windmilled across  the

room toward the sentinel. It sliced cleanly into the intersection of head  and

body?

And then, abruptly, the blue-white blade vanished.

"What happened?" Luke demanded.

"Blast it!" Mara snarled. Out of the corner of  Luke's  eye  he  saw  the

blade reappear, swing into the sentinel, and again vanish. "He put a layer  of

cortosis ore under the armor."

"Then go for the blaster," Luke said.

"Right."

The blue-white blade sizzled out again?there  was  a  crackle  of  broken

metal and plastic?and suddenly that point of danger faded  from  Luke's  mind.

"Good job," he called to Mara, shifting his full attention to the sentinel  in

front of him. "Now get around here and do the same thing to this one?"

He swiveled back again, getting his lightsaber blade around just in time.

Suddenly the sentinel on Mara's side had started shooting again?

"Watch it," Mara snapped a  belated  warning.  "It  had  another  blaster

holstered for its left hand?oh, shavit."

"What?? Never mind," Luke growled. In  response  to  Mara's  attack,  the

sentinel facing him had now drawn a second blaster from concealment  with  its

left hand.

"He's got a second blaster for the right, too?"

"I got it, I got it," Luke cut her off, leaning  still  harder  into  his

defense.

With twice as many shots coming in now from each of the  sentinels,  they

were in worse shape than they had been before. A missed blaster  bolt  sizzled

painfully across the top of his left shoulder?

"Sorry," Mara said, her back pressing against his now,  the  hum  of  her

lightsaber like an angry insect behind him. "What do we do now?"

Luke grimaced. The row of ysalamiri-equipped Chiss he'd faced up  in  the

fortress had been bad enough; but at least there  they'd  had  the  option  of

shooting their opponents if defense became too difficult. Here, trapped in the

middle of an open room, caught in a crossfire from  two  tireless  droids  who

couldn't be killed, with tangling  cords  around  their  feet  precluding  any

chance of fast escape...

"Luke?" Mara called again over the sound and fury. "You hear me?"

"I heard you, I heard you," he snapped back.

"So what do we do?"

Luke swallowed hard. "I have no idea."

* * *

Beneath Leia, the Predominance's great bulk shuddered as  another  proton

torpedo got through the Ishori defenses, its violent explosion ripping another

piece out of the hull. Ahead out the main bridge canopy, the sky was a  tangle

of turbolaser blasts splashing across their shields  or  occasionally  burning

through to vaporize layers of metal or transparisteel.

But in that sudden, heart-stopping moment, none of that mattered; not the

battle, not her own life, not even the terrible threat of civil war. With that

flicker of distant emotion, that sudden tremor in the Force, one  thing  alone

had surged to overriding importance for her.

Somewhere out there, Han was in deadly danger.

"Captain Av'muru!" she shouted over  the  din  of  the  bridge,  crossing

quickly  toward  the  command  console.  Two  guards  raised  their   blasters

warningly; without thinking, Leia stretched out with the  Force  to  turn  the

weapons aside as she passed. "Captain, I must speak with you right away."

"I am busy, Councilor," the Ishori captain snarled, not even bothering to

look at her.

"You'll be busier than you care to be if you don't listen  to  me,"  Leia

bit out, straining with all her strength toward the wispy,  unclear  sensation

that was Han.

His emotions were still seething with  danger  and  threat  and  helpless

fury; but try as she might, she couldn't penetrate through the emotion and the

distance to his underlying thoughts.

But there was one thing that was very clear.  "There's  some  new  threat

waiting out there," she told Av'muru. "One you're completely unaware of."

"Other threats are meaningless!" Av'muru all but screamed. "There can  be

no other concern but the Diamalan attackers around us."

"Captain?"

She broke off at a feathery touch on her arm. "It's no  use,  Councilor,"

Gavrisom said, his long face tight and almost  bitter.  "He  can't  and  won't

think that far ahead. Not with his ship under immediate attack. Can  you  tell

me what this threat is?"

Leia looked out the canopy, trying to pierce the dazzlingly lethal  light

show outside. "Han's in danger," she said.

"Where? How?"

"I don't know," she said, her stomach twisting  with  her  own  sense  of

helplessness. "I can't pick up his thoughts clearly enough."

"Who else might know?" Gavrisom asked.

Leia took a deep breath, forcing calmness into  her  mind.  Gavrisom  was

right: what Han needed was for  her  to  put  aside  her  emotions  and  think

clearly. "Elegos was with him on the Falcon," she said, stretching  out  again

with the Force. But there was nothing. "I can't even sense him."

"Who else might know?" Gavrisom persisted. "Someone closer at hand?"

Leia looked out at the battle again, a sudden tentative flicker  of  hope

stirring in her. "Lando. Han might have said something to Lando."

"Then we must talk to him," Gavrisom said firmly. "I will go speak to the

captain about piercing  the  Diamalan  jamming.  In  the  meantime,  is  there

anything your Jedi skills can do about it?"

Leia took a deep breath. "I don't know," she said. "Let me try."

* * *

"I tell you, this can't wait," Lando  insisted,  throwing  every  bit  of

urgency and intimidation he could muster into his voice. "I have to  speak  to

High Councilor Organa Solo right away. The whole  fate  of  the  New  Republic

might well hang on the edge. Not to mention your own lives."

"Really," Senator Miatamia said, his voice icy calm. Diamala, Lando knew,

were notoriously hard to read, but it was abundantly clear the Senator  wasn't

impressed. "And what is the nature of this threat?"

"My friend Han went out to take a look at that comet  out  there,"  Lando

said. "I was watching him on macrobinoculars... and he just vanished."

Miatamia's cheeks creased. "You mean he crashed?"

"I mean he vanished," Lando insisted. "Right out in the open."

"Yet how truly open is the region around a  comet?"  the  Diamal  pointed

out, an ear twitching. "He may have veered into the gases of the tail, or  you

may have lost sight of him briefly in the glare of sunlight from the surface."

Lando grimaced. Not only was Miatamia not convinced, he wasn't even going

to give it a fair hearing.

But Lando knew what he had seen.  "All  right,  then,"  he  said  between

clenched teeth. "In that case, I'm calling in the favor you owe me."

Both ears twitched this time. "What favor is this?"

"I gave you a ride to Coruscant from Cilpar,  remember?"  Lando  reminded

him. "You've never paid me back for that."

"You stated at the time that you would not require any payment other than

our conversation."

"I lied," Lando said evenly. "And I want my favor now."

Miatamia eyed him darkly. "We are in a combat situation."

"This won't jeopardize that." Lando gestured at the bridge, lying  beyond

the transparisteel wall of the observation deck he and Miatamia were  standing

on. "All I want is for  the  jamming  of  the  Predominance  lifted,  just  on

Councilor Organa Solo's personal comlink frequency. Just that  one  frequency?

that's all."

The Diamal shook his head. "I cannot gamble that such an action would not

create additional danger for Diamalan lives and goods."

He turned away, facing the battle again. Lando swallowed a curse, looking

past him and the besieged Ishori ship at the comet glowing with such deceptive

serenity out beyond the fighting. Han had asked for his help. Had trusted him.

And he did know what he'd seen.

"All right," he said, stepping squarely in front of  Miatamia  again.  It

was time to put his money where it counted. "A  gamble,  you  say?  Fine?let's

gamble."

He pointed out the viewport at the Ishori ship. "Here's the bet. You  let

me talk to Leia right now; and if the threat turns out not to be as serious as

I claim it is, you and the Diamala will get my mining and casino operation  on

Varn."

The Senator's ears twitched. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious," Lando said. "My friend's in danger, and  I'm  the  only

one who can help him."

For a long moment the Diamal stared at him. "Very well," he said at last.

"High Councilor Organa Solo's private comlink frequency only. And for no  more

than two minutes."

"Done." Lando nodded. "How fast can you arrange it?"

Miatamia turned toward the observation deck's intercom and spoke  rapidly

in the Diamalan language. He was answered in kind. There was  one  more  quick

exchange?"It is done," he said, turning back to Lando. "Your two  minutes  are

running."

Lando already had his comlink out and keyed. "Leia?"

"Lando!" her relieved voice came back instantly. "I  was  hoping  to  get

through to you. Han's in trouble."

"I know," Lando said. "He went with Carib to  check  out  the  comet  and

asked me to watch with macrobinoculars. They cut in close to the surface,  and

then just disappeared."

"What do you mean, disappeared?" Leia  asked  anxiously.  "As  if  they'd

crashed?"

"No," Lando said grimly. "As if they'd dipped inside a cloaking shield."

He heard her sharp intake of air. "Lando, we've got  to  get  over  there

right away.

If there's an Imperial ship hiding out there?"

"Hey, no argument here," Lando said. "But I've already  used  up  all  my

favors getting this call through."

"All right," Leia said, her voice suddenly dark. "It's up to me, then."

"What are you going to do?" Lando asked.

"I'm going to help Han," she said, her voice as cold as he'd  ever  heard

it. "Stay clear?you don't want to get involved in this."

The transmission clicked off. "Too late for that, Leia," he  muttered  at

the dead comlink. "Years and years too late."

* * *

Another barrage of turbolaser fire lanced out from the nearest of the two

Golan weapons platforms,  the  spread  targeting  the  group  of  starfighters

harrying its flank.

Wedge twisted his X-wing safely between the shots and did a  quick  check

of the rest of his squadron. As with the last such salvo, and the four or five

before it, none of them had taken any damage.

Neither, as far as he could tell, had anyone else in  the  attack  fleet.

Bel Iblis's strategy of staying just at the edge of the Golans' kill zone  had

so far paid off.

But that strategy was about to change.

"All fighter wings, this is Perris," the voice of the Peregrine's fighter

commander came tautly through his headset. "Captain Tre-na has confirmed  that

General Bel Iblis is definitely in trouble in there."

Wedge grimaced,  wondering  what  about  the  situation  had  needed  any

confirmation in the first place. Nose  to  nose  with  another  Imperial  Star

Destroyer, pinned in place by probably every heavy tractor beam the Ubiqtorate

base could bring to bear?

"Look?they're firing," Rogue Five snapped. "Everything they've got, looks

like."

"I see it," Wedge said, gazing through the  separating  distance  at  the

blaze of turbolaser fire flashing out from the Errant Venture, his last  faint

hope that Bel Iblis  might  still  be  able  to  talk  his  way  out  of  this

evaporating like morning mist at sunrise. If he'd opened fire on the base,  it

meant the bluff had failed.

It also meant he was running low on time. That second Star Destroyer, not

to mention the Ubiqtorate base commander, wasn't just going to sit there while

Bel Iblis vaped their tractor emplacements and got away.

Tre-na and the rest of the fleet command staff aboard the  Peregrine  had

clearly come to the same  conclusion.  "Okay,  fighters,"  Perris  said.  "The

fleet's going in, and we're going in hard. Your job is to draw fire away  from

the main ships, help  wherever  you  can  to  punch  a  hole  in  the  defense

perimeter, and be ready to run screen when the Imperials finally launch  their

own fighters. All wings, acknowledge and prepare."

"Rogue Leader, copy," Wedge said, then keyed for the  squadron's  private

frequency. "Well, Rogues, you've all had a look at the perimeter. Any thoughts

on where the weak spots are?"

"Maybe," Rogue Twelve said. "Seems to me the turbolasers on the starboard

side of that second Golan have a slight flutter."

"You sure?" Rogue Three asked. "I didn't notice anything."

"It's small, but it's there," Rogue Twelve said. "It may be  just  enough

to leave a small gap between?"

"General Antilles?" a new voice cut in.

Wedge frowned. It was a familiar voice, but  not  one  of  his  squadron.

"This is Antilles," he confirmed cautiously.

"This is Talon Karrde. How are things?"

It took Wedge a second to find his voice. "Karrde, what in blazes are you

doing here?" he demanded.

"To be perfectly honest, trying to get past your  forces,"  Karrde  said.

"Is Commander Horn there with you?"

"I'm here," Rogue Nine said. "What do you want?"

"I want to collect on a favor you owe  me,"  Karrde  said.  "The  one  we

discussed the last time we were together on the Errant Venture, remember?"

There was an exasperated-sounding noise in Wedge's headset. "Karrde,  are

you crazy? We're in the middle of a battle here."

"Which is precisely why I need the favor now," Karrde said. "I  need  you

to escort me through the New Republic lines."

"To where?" Rogue Nine countered. "In case you  hadn't  noticed,  on  the

other side of our lines is an Imperial Ubiqtorate base."

"Which, conveniently, happens to be my destination," Karrde told him.

Wedge snorted gently. "The Wild Karrde must be a lot better armored  than

I thought."

"The Imperials won't be a problem," Karrde said.  "I  have  a  high-level

code for getting through their lines. My problem is your lines."

"Look, Karrde, I don't know what you're up to,"  Rogue  Nine  said.  "And

frankly, right now I don't really care. But we have a job to do here."

"Perhaps I can make that job unnecessary," Karrde said, a sudden edge  in

his voice. "You get me  inside,  and  I  may  be  able  to  stop  this  battle

completely."

"Really," Rogue Two said, his voice suddenly suspicious. "May I  ask  how

exactly you plan to do that?"

There was a slight pause, and Wedge could  picture  Karrde  smiling  that

mysterious smile he was so fond of. "Let's just say I'm holding  the  ultimate

bargaining chip," he said softly.

"And that would be...?"

"All wings, this is Perris," the fighter commander's voice came on.  "Run

to formation; we're heading in."

Wedge took a deep breath. They were under official orders  now,  with  no

room for maneuvering or stalling or anything else.

But General Bel Iblis's life was on the line here...

"Karrde, this is Antilles," he said. "Where are you?"

"Coming up behind and above the Peregrine," Karrde  told  him.  "Are  you

starting an attack?"

"Something like that," Wedge said, checking his rear  scanner.  The  Wild

Karrde was there, all right, hanging a respectful distance back from  the  New

Republic sentry line. "Stay put?we'll be right there. Rogues; let's go."

He turned the X-wing hard over and headed toward their rear. There was  a

click in his headset as someone keyed to his personal frequency? "Wedge,  what

are we doing?" Rogue Nine demanded. "We're under  orders.  Look,  if  this  is

about this so-called favor I owe him?"

"I'm not worried about favors right now, Corran," Wedge assured him. "But

you heard what Karrde said. He's got an Imperial code for getting through  the

perimeter."

"Yes, I remember. But his having an access code won't do us any good."

"Ordinarily, no," Wedge agreed, smiling tightly. "But also remember  what

Rogue Twelve said about that turbolaser flutter. If we guide Karrde  in  under

that particular bank?and if we then stay clustered real close behind him??"

Rogue Nine hissed thoughtfully. "That might just do it."

"It's worth a try, anyway," Wedge said. Because  if  they  could  get  in

behind the perimeter, they'd have a  far  better  shot  at  knocking  out  the

tractor emplacements that held the Errant Venture trapped.

And the faster they knocked out those emplacements, the sooner Bel  Iblis

would be able to turn his ship around and make a run for safety.

"Wedge?" Rogue Nine said, his voice  sounding  odd.  "You  don't  suppose

Karrde really can stop the battle, do you?"

Wedge started to shake his head; paused.  This  was  Corran  Horn,  Jedi,

asking the question. "Not really," he said cautiously. "The Imperials want Bel

Iblis?that much is for sure. The only reason I can think of why they'd let him

go is if they got something they wanted even more."

"That's what I was thinking, too," Rogue Nine said, his voice still  odd.

"So why am I also thinking Karrde really does have a shot at this?"

Wedge felt a shiver tingle the back of his neck. "I don't know," he  said

grimly.

"All I know is that he's our best chance of getting Bel Iblis and Booster

out of there alive. Right now that's all I care about."

They had reached the Wild Karrde now, and Wedge pulled his fighter around

in a sharp turn into forward escort position. "Okay, Karrde, here we  go,"  he

said, double-checking that the rest of the squadron  was  in  position.  "Stay

close, and follow me."

CHAPTER

39

The sentinel droid continued its attack, systematically sending its fiery

bolts of death in Mara's direction. Her lightsaber leaped to  meet  each  one,

hands twisting and turning and jabbing the  weapon  at  the  guidance  of  the

Force.

She knew her hands were moving, just as she  knew  that  her  teeth  were

clenched tightly together and that there were drops of sweat rolling down  her

face. But she couldn't feel them. Couldn't feel any of it. So focused was  her

mind, so locked into the  terrible  struggle  for  survival,  that  there  was

nothing  else  in  the  universe  that  seemed  able  to  penetrate  into  her

consciousness. Not the rest of the chamber, not  the  shape  of  the  sentinel

dimly visible behind the dazzling glare of the blaster bolts, not even her own

body. Nothing but the blasters and her lightsaber.

And Luke.

It was a strange sensation, the small part of her  mind  that  was  still

free to wonder about such things realized. Standing back  to  back,  stretched

out so deeply together to the Force, it was as if their  minds  had  literally

melded together to become a single entity.  She  could  feel  his  mental  and

physical strain as he maintained his own defense; could sense his reliance  on

the Force, and his desperate search for a plan to get them out  of  this,  and

his deep concern for the woman standing there with him.

In one way it was almost like a logical extension of the brief  emotional

contacts they'd had throughout this trip. But in another way it was  something

completely new, like nothing she'd ever before experienced.

Because within the depth of that mental rapport, she suddenly and totally

knew Luke Skywalker. Knew everything about  him:  his  hopes  and  fears;  his

successes and failures; his strengths and weaknesses; his highest joys and his

deepest and most private sorrows. She saw into his innermost  spirit,  to  the

depths of his heart, to the very core of his being.

And she knew that even as he lay open before her eyes, so also her  heart

and spirit were open before his.

Yet it wasn't frightening or humiliating as she might have  expected.  As

she would have expected. It was  instead  something  completely  exhilarating.

Never before had she experienced such a depth and closeness to another person,

a person who understood her as intimately as she understood him. Never had she

known such a relationship could even exist.

And  never  before  had  she  realized  how  badly  she  wanted  such   a

relationship.

And that was in its way the most surprising  part  of  all:  to  suddenly

realize after so many years how much her determination to  lock  herself  away

from others had ended up hurting her. Had stunted her own growth and life just

as her stubborn refusal to accept the responsibility of her Jedi abilities had

limited their growth.

It was an amazing insight, particularly coming as it did in the midst  of

the fire and heat of a battle. She could only regret  that  the  understanding

hadn't come to her sooner, instead of now.

Now that she was about to die.

Because her death was indeed close at hand, one way or  another.  Already

she could feel her muscles tiring before the sentinel's  onslaught,  and  knew

that she couldn't maintain her defense more than a few  minutes  more  at  the

most. She had to act now, while she still had the strength to do so,  or  Luke

would die, too.

Because while the plan  she'd  come  up  with  might?might?eliminate  the

threat from the sentinel in front of her, there was no way she could take  out

both of its blasters fast enough to keep a killing  shot  from  reaching  her.

Fleetingly, she thought of Corran Horn and his ability to absorb and dissipate

energy; but that had never been one of her talents, and there was certainly no

time for her to learn the technique now. No, she would throw her lightsaber at

her chosen target, and the sentinel would shoot her, and she  would  die.  All

she could hope for was to cling to life long enough to finish what had  to  be

done.

No, Mara. No! Was that her thought? she wondered. Or was it Luke's?

I have to, Luke. That one was hers. Through her own fears and regrets she

could feel his sudden surge of desperate emotion as he tried to come up with a

way she would not have to die.

But there wasn't one. Mara had already considered every possibility,  and

there simply wasn't any way Luke could hold off four blasters by himself  when

two of them were firing at his back this way. But if she could just live  long

enough to carry this through, using her body to shield him until the  sentinel

facing her could be eliminated...

While I still have the strength, she reminded herself. And the  time  was

now. She took a deep breath?

No! the emotion broke through her black determination. Wait. Look.

She had no attention to spare to look anywhere but at  the  sentinel  and

its blasters. But she didn't have to. Luke had already seen the  critical  new

factor, and now the image flowed through the Force into her mind.

Off to her right, his little electric arc welder extended  ahead  of  him

like a weapon, Artoo was rolling  determinedly  along  the  upper  floor  ring

toward her attacker.

Her first thought was to wonder what in blazes had taken the little droid

so long to get his metal rear over to help, only  then  realizing  how  little

time had actually  elapsed  since  the  battle  began.  Her  second,  somewhat

irreverent thought was to note that Artoo had chosen her  sentinel  to  attack

instead  of  Luke's,  and  to  wonder  if  the   Skywalker   tendency   toward

overprotectiveness had rubbed off on him.

Her third thought was that Luke was right. This might be  the  break  she

needed, the opening for her plan to succeed without her having to die  in  the

process.

Maybe.

Artoo was almost to the sentinel now, a bluish spark  arcing  across  the

welder contacts. The sentinel was perfectly aware of him, of course; the  only

question was what it would do about it...

And then an image flashed into Mara's mind. A picture  of  her  and  Luke

lying on the floor amid the tangle of trip cords down there.

She felt herself gasp. Was that a vision of the  future,  of  them  lying

dead together? Was her plan doomed to failure?

You see? Luke's emotion broke through the sudden fear. You understand?

And then the image cleared, and she indeed  saw  what  he  meant.  Not  a

vision of death, but a hope of life: Luke's own  last-second  contribution  to

her plan. Got it, she sent back her understanding.

Get ready...

She felt her teeth  clenching  even  harder,  lightsaber  still  flashing

against the sentinel's attacks, and prepared herself. Artoo was almost to  the

sentinel, his arc welder still sparking?

And with a casual and contemptuous ease, the sentinel swung its left  arm

over, placed the side of the blaster in that hand against  Artoo's  dome,  and

shoved the little droid over to land flat on his back.

And for that half second, only one of his blasters was firing.

Now!

Mara reacted instantly, letting her right leg  collapse  beneath  her  to

send her toppling over onto her right side. Luke fell right  along  with  her,

his back pressed against hers the whole way down. They hit the floor?there was

probably a jolt of pain in her shoulder from the impact, but Mara wasn't aware

of it?and Luke flipped over onto his back to face upward toward the ceiling.

And with that single move suddenly  there  were  no  longer  two  attacks

coming from totally opposite directions. Now, it was merely two attacks coming

from a pair of widely spaced opponents, both of whom were effectively in front

of him.

And that was something he could handle.

Go! his command came as the green-white of his  lightsaber  flashed  past

over her head, deflecting a shot away from her  face.  Mara  didn't  need  the

prompting; already her lightsaber was spinning its way toward the sentinel.  A

quick slash, and the blaster in its right hand had shattered  to  uselessness.

Its other hand was already swinging back toward her;  the  lightsaber  changed

direction and slashed again, and the sentinel's second blaster  was  similarly

gone.

There was a short, rumbling roar from the  big  droid?apparently  it  had

enough sentience to be annoyed at having been outmaneuvered this way.  But  it

was also smart enough to know the disadvantage was only  temporary,  that  her

lightsaber couldn't harm it directly, at least not fast enough to do any good.

And its designers had also clearly prepared for such an eventuality.  Two

more compartments along its lower sides had popped open,  and  the  sentinel's

hands were already digging into them for another set of replacement weapons.

But with luck, it would never have a chance to use them. Mara had already

brought her lightsaber around in front of the sentinel, turning  it  to  point

blade-first toward the big droid. Now, grunting with the effort, she drove  it

forward.

Not uselessly into the sentinel and its cortosis-ore shell, but  straight

past it, burying the blue-white blade in the water-stained wall behind it.

The jet of water that  burst  out  around  the  handle  was  instant  and

violent, some of the spray reaching all the way to where she and Luke  lay  on

the floor thirty meters away. Mara felt a sudden twinge of uneasiness  at  the

force of the flow; but it was too late to stop  now.  Holding  the  weapon  in

against the pressure, she spun it around in a ten-centimeter-diameter  circle,

the hilt more than once nearly vanishing from her  view  behind  the  widening

spray of water coming out through the crack  she  was  cutting.  The  sentinel

turned its head to see what was happening;  lifted  its  blasters  toward  the

lightsaber?

And with a last burst of effort, Mara finished the cut.

The stone plug came blasting out of the wall with the speed of  a  proton

torpedo, slamming directly into the sentinel's thick torso with armor-crushing

force and knocking the big droid helplessly off the upper ring down  onto  the

main floor.

Mara caught a glimpse of crumpled metal; saw that  the  stream  of  water

that had driven the plug was now shooting across the room over her head?

And suddenly a foam-crested wave slammed  into  and  over  her  from  the

opposite direction.

With her mind still in the tunnel vision of Jedi defense mode,  the  wave

caught her completely off-guard. She felt herself being lifted and  thrown  by

the wild surf as her feet were somehow  pushed  clear  of  the  tangling  trip

cords, and scrabbled madly for something to hang on to. Her left  hand  caught

another bunch of the cords, and she hung on grimly, trying to orient  herself.

Another wave washed over her, tearing her grip away, and once again she  found

herself being spun around in  the  turbulence.  She  clawed  her  way  to  the

surface, caught a breath that seemed to be half air and half foam,  shook  the

water out of her eyes to see another wave surging toward her?

And then a pair of hands caught her under the arms, and with a  tug  that

felt like it was going to tear her in half  she  was  suddenly  arcing  upward

through the air. There was a jolt as her back slammed into something  hard?one

of the two hands holding her fell away as the other tightened its grip?

"Here?hold on," Luke shouted in her ear.

She half turned in his single-handed grip, saw the railing to  the  upper

equipment balcony there beside her, and grabbed on to it. "Got it."

"Hang on?I'm going back for Artoo." Letting go of the railing, he dropped

back into the water.

With an effort, Mara pulled herself up the  railing  and  over  onto  the

balcony floor. Below her, she could see, the room had become a surging mass of

frothing water.

And it was filling up fast. Much faster than it should have, she realized

uneasily.

And suddenly she saw why. The small, neat hole she'd cut in the wall  was

no longer either small or neat. Four or  five  square  meters  of  the  water-

stained section had given way around it,  and  the  Lake  of  Small  Fish  was

pouring in through the opening. Already it was halfway  up  the  wall  to  the

ledge where she sat...

A movement across the room caught her  eye:  Luke,  hanging  on  to  some

protrusion in the wall, waving toward her. "I'm here," she  shouted  over  the

roar of the water. "What do you need?"

In answer, the top of Artoo's dome rose a few centimeters over the waves.

Bracing herself, Mara stretched out with the Force and lifted  the  droid

toward her.

It was harder than she'd expected it to be. Far harder than it  ought  to

have been. The droid rose over the water with agonizing  slowness,  and  twice

during the procedure she nearly lost her grip entirely.  Clearly,  the  battle

with the sentinel droids had taken more out of her than she'd realized.

But finally she made it, and the droid settled down with a pensive gurgle

beside her. He'd been battered around by the water and had  lost  the  datapad

they'd rigged to him for translation, but otherwise he seemed all  right.  She

looked back down, searching for Luke?

A hand slapped up to a grip on the bottom rail. "You get Artoo up?"  Luke

gasped, pulling himself laboriously up the railing.

"He's right here," Mara confirmed, reaching over the railing to give  him

a hand.

"You okay?"

"Just fine," he panted as he made it over the railing and collapsed  onto

the balcony beside her. "Lesson number one," he added between breaths. "A Jedi

needs air to function properly."

"I'll make a note," Mara said, peering down through  the  railing  again.

"What about that second sentinel?"

"I took care of him," Luke said. Already he was breathing easier. "Here's

your lightsaber," he added, pulling both weapons from  inside  his  tunic  and

handing hers over. "Good job with the wall, by the way."

"Oh, sure?great job," Mara retorted. "There's nothing so brilliant  as  a

plan that ends up almost drowning you. Speaking  of  which,  shouldn't  we  be

getting out of here before it gets any deeper?"

There was a brief pause. "Well, actually..."

She looked at him, a sudden flicker of fear touching her  heart.  "What's

the matter?"

He reached over and took her hand.  "I'm  sorry,  Mara,"  he  said.  "The

water's already above the level of  the  tunnel.  It's  already  filling  that

underground room back there."

Mara stared at him?she'd had no idea the water was coming in  that  fast.

"All right," she said, forcing her voice to stay calm.  Forcing  her  mind  to

stay calm.

"All right. So the room's filling up. If we can make  it  across  to  the

stairway, we can at least climb up into the fortress, right?"

A muscle in his cheek twitched. "You don't understand,"  he  said.  "It's

already above the level of the tunnel. That means traveling that whole hundred

meters without air, plus probably having to  get  the  whole  way  across  the

underground room, too."

"What about a hibernation trance?" Mara suggested. "Like the one you used

to cold-shirt it across to the Starry Ice from the pirate base?"

Luke shook his head. "With the underground  room  filling  up,  or  maybe

already mostly full, the water won't be flowing fast enough through the tunnel

to push us through in time."

And it was for sure they couldn't swim while in a trance. Mara  pushed  a

lock of wet hair off her face, trying to think.

Beside Luke, Artoo gave a sudden nervous squawk. "I see  it,"  Luke  told

him.

"See what?" Mara asked.

"The water level's starting to rise again," he  said  reluctantly.  "That

means the underground room must be full. The only drainage  we're  getting  is

through the two holes we cut, the one into the stairway area and the one  back

down into the caverns."

Mara swallowed. "Small holes."

"Far too small to handle the amount coming in," Luke agreed soberly. "I'm

afraid..."

He trailed off. Mara gazed down at the surging water, now high enough  to

hide the inflow through the hole she'd cut. But it was still  coming  in;  the

steady rippling in the surface was enough to show that. "Back when  you  first

came here," she said, "I told you you could go back to Coruscant if you wanted

to and let the Qom Jha and me tackle the fortress by ourselves. You  said  no,

that you had to be here, and you said not to ask you why."

He took a deep breath. "I had a  vision  of  you  on  Tierfon,"  he  said

quietly. "Back before I knew you'd disappeared. I saw you lying in a  pool  of

water, surrounded by craggy rock." He hesitated. "And you looked..."

"Dead?"

He sighed. "Yes."

For a long moment they sat there together, the rushing of water the  only

sound.

"Well, I guess that's that, then," Mara said at last. "At  least  I  have

the minor satisfaction of knowing I did it to myself."

"Don't give up yet," Luke said. But there was no particular hope  in  his

voice that she could detect. "There has to be a way out of this."

"Too bad, too," Mara said. She looked at him, tracing the contours of his

face with her eyes. "You didn't know, but after that pirate base thing, Faughn

told me you and I made a good team. She was right. We really did."

"We really do," Luke corrected, looking almost nervously into  her  eyes.

"You know, when  we  were  fighting  those  sentinels  down  there,  something

happened to me.

To us. We were so close in the Force that  it  was  like  we'd  become  a

single person. It was... it was something very special."

She lifted an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement  worming  its  way  through

even the deadly seriousness of the situation. There was such an oddly  awkward

earnestness to his expression. "Really?" she said. "How special?"

He grimaced. "You're not going to make this easy for  me,  are  you?"  he

growled.

"Oh, come now," she  said,  mock  accusingly.  "When  have  I  ever  made

anything easy for you?"

"Not very often," he conceded. Visibly bracing himself, he  reached  over

and took her hands again. "Mara... will you marry me?"

"You mean if we get out of here alive?"

Luke shook his head. "I mean regardless."

Under other circumstances, she knew, she would probably  have  considered

herself honor-bound to make him sweat, just a little. But with the water still

rising below them, such games seemed rather pointless. Besides, there  was  no

reason for old defensive patterns to come into play. Not now.  Not  with  him.

"Yes," she said.

"I will."

CHAPTER

40

A blast of turbolaser fire shot  past,  burning  a  scorch  line  in  the

Predominance's bridge canopy. It was like an omen, Leia thought darkly as  she

stepped past the outer monitor ring and into the central control  cluster:  an

omen of her own impending downfall. What she was about to do, she knew,  would

most likely be the end of her political career. It could possibly send her  to

a penal colony. It could even cost her her life.

But Han's own life was hanging in the balance. Against that, nothing else

mattered.

She stopped behind the Ishori at the helm station  and  looked  over  his

shoulder at his control board. The indicators and  controls  were  labeled  in

Ishori, of course, but the board itself was a straight Kuat Drive Yards design

and she knew the layout. Taking a deep breath, she stretched out to the  Force

and keyed the sublight drive lever.

The helmsman himself  was  the  first  to  notice  something  was  wrong.

Rumbling something under his breath, he pulled the lever back to its  original

position.

Leia pushed it forward again, this time  also  laying  in  a  new  ship's

vector toward the comet blazing in the distance. The helmsman  rumbled  again,

louder this time, and again grabbed the lever.

Except that this time it didn't move.  Leia  held  it  firm  against  his

struggles; and as he paused, confused, she took the  opportunity  to  push  it

still farther forward. The helmsman swiveled in his seat to  look  at  Captain

Av'muru?

And out of the corner of his eye he spotted Leia standing behind him.

"What do you do here?" he shouted, swiveling farther around to  glare  up

at her.

"Guards!"

Leia turned. Two guards were  striding  toward  her,  blasters  in  hand.

Stretching out again to the Force, she plucked the blasters away from them and

slammed the weapons straight down to the deck with shattering force.

"Councilor!" Av'muru shouted, jumping up from his  seat.  "What  are  you

doing?"

Leia didn't answer, but reached again for the speed  control.  "No!"  the

helmsman screamed, leaping out of his chair with his hands  reaching  for  her

throat.

The clutching fingers never got there. Leia caught him  in  midair  in  a

Force grip, redirecting the direction of his leap to send him soaring  instead

over the monitor ring to land in a confused heap at the back of the bridge.

"Guards!" Av'muru shouted. "All guards!"

Leia turned back to the helm, again  increasing  the  ship's  speed.  Her

senses flared with warning, and she snatched up her  lightsaber  just  as  two

other guards on the far side of the  room  brought  their  blasters  up.  They

fired, their stun bolts scattering uselessly from her glowing blade. Again she

snatched the weapons away, this time bringing them flying  across  the  bridge

toward her and slicing them neatly in half with her lightsaber.

"You will stop this at once," Av'muru snarled,  stalking  with  an  even,

deliberate pace toward her. "Otherwise, I will declare a state of war to exist

between the Ishori Confederene and the New Republic."

"This entire system is in deadly danger," Leia  said  in  a  loud  voice.

"You've refused to take steps to oppose this danger. I have therefore done  so

in your place."

"You risk war between Isht and Coruscant," Av'muru shouted, still  coming

toward her. "You have until I reach you to cease this action and  return  this

vessel to my command."

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia  saw  Gavrisom  trotting  over  toward

Av'muru's side... and there was now exactly one card left  for  her  to  play.

"There is no need or reason to involve the New Republic," she told the Ishori.

"I hearby resign from the High Council, and the Senate, and the Presidency.  I

am no longer anything but a private citizen."

"Then you also renounce  all  diplomatic  privileges,"  Av'muru  snapped.

Gavrisom had reached his side now, pulling slightly ahead of the Ishori as the

two of them continued toward Leia. From Gavrisom's gait, Leia  could  tell  he

was trying to reach her first. Probably hoping to stop her  himself,  with  an

eye toward minimizing the political damage to the New Republic  that  she  had

just caused.

But it was too late for that, and  Gavrisom  surely  knew  it.  "You  are

aboard an Ishori war vessel,"  Av'muru  continued.  "The  penalty  for  mutiny

aboard such a vessel is death."

Leia felt her throat tighten. And that, she realized bleakly,  was  that.

The captain had spoken the word "mutiny," automatically invoking  the  highest

level of Ishori war-law. If she didn't back down before Av'muru  reached  her,

he would have no choice but to bring the entire might of his warship  to  bear

against her.

Could they stop her? Probably not. Certainly not before they reached  the

comet.

But at what cost? Though she could  hold  them  back,  she  could  almost

certainly not do so without the eventual shedding of blood. And if her actions

led to death, even deaths from ricochet shots from their own weapons, her fate

would be sealed. The strict code of Ishori war-justice would demand her  death

in return.

And for the sake of unity within the New  Republic,  she  would  have  to

submit. Av'muru and Gavrisom were nearly to her now...

And then, to Leia's amazement,  Gavrisom  turned  sideways  and  abruptly

stopped, his long flank stretching across  the  aisle  between  two  consoles,

blocking Av'muru's way.  "I  think  not,  Captain,"  he  said  calmly.  "I  am

declaring this war vessel to be under direct New Republic command."

"So it is treason from the New  Republic  Presidency  as  well?"  Av'muru

screamed, trying to push Gavrisom bodily out of his way. "Move  aside  or  die

alongside her."

"There is no treason involved," Gavrisom said. His voice was still  calm,

but he hadn't budged a millimeter.  "Unless  you  bring  such  a  charge  upon

yourself by refusing an official New Republic emergency  requisition  of  your

vessel as per Section 45-2 of the Treaties of Allegiance."

Abruptly  Av'muru  stopped  pushing.  "You  speak  nonsense,"  he   said,

screaming  now  at  the  top  of  his  lungs.  "There  has  been  no  official

requisition."

"The Treaties are vague about how such a  requisition  is  to  be  made,"

Gavrisom said coolly. "Deliberately so, for an emergency situation by its very

nature requires flexibility."

He waved a wing toward Leia. "In this case, the  requisition  began  when

High Councilor Organa Solo?"

"She is no longer a High Councilor, by her own statement!"

"When High Councilor Organa Solo," Gavrisom  repeated,  emphasizing  each

word, "began moving this vessel toward a perceived source of danger."

Av'muru glared at Gavrisom, transferred the look to Leia, turned it  back

on Gavrisom again. "You cannot seriously believe the Confederene  will  accept

such a ludicrous claim," he bellowed.

"What they will or will not accept is a matter  for  future  discussion,"

Gavrisom pointed out. "Regretfully, the Diamalan jamming  has  eliminated  any

chance for you to communicate with your governments for counsel."

He tossed his mane. "It is your decision, Captain. You must  base  it  on

the requirements of the law, my position as New Republic  President,  and  the

word of a Jedi Knight that your ship is in deadly danger."

Av'muru was trembling with emotion, his  eyes  flicking  back  and  forth

between Gavrisom, Leia, and the view out the canopy. Leia stole a  glance  out

there herself, confirmed that the Predominance was indeed  moving  toward  the

comet.

"Helmsman?" Av'muru shouted.

"Here, my captain," the other replied, stepping hesitantly forward.

"Resume your post," Av'muru ordered, his voice  starting  to  calm  down.

"Continue on the course which the Jedi Knight Organa Solo has put us  on."  He

paused. "And increase to flank speed."

"Yes, my captain," the helmsman said, brushing gingerly past Gavrisom  as

the Calibop moved aside. Leia stepped aside as well, and he sat warily down in

his seat again. " 'Course and speed as ordered, my captain."

"Come, Councilor," Gavrisom said, gesturing to Leia with one of his  wing

tips. "Let us move back out of their way."

Together, they retreated again behind the monitor ring. "Thank you," Leia

said quietly.

"I was only doing my job," Gavrisom said. "I have  often  heard  it  said

that Calibops are long on words and short on deeds."

He ruffled his mane. "Sometimes, though, it is the words that  must  come

first."

"Yes," Leia murmured, gazing out the canopy at the comet. She could  only

hope that the deeds that followed would be in time.

* * *

"We have them both, Captain," the starboard tractor beam  officer  called

up to the command walkway. "Two freighters: a YT-1300 and a  Corellian  Action

II."

"Very  good,"  Nalgol  said,  still  seething  over  the  unexpected  and

unannounced change in their carefully precise schedule. The strike team on the

surface, he promised himself ominously, would have some serious explaining  to

do when this was all over.

But in the meantime, the Tyrannic was ready to do whatever needed  to  be

done.

And the first job on that list would be to take care of those  spies  out

there. "Bring them in closer, Lieutenant," he called. "Make  sure  they  don't

break away."

"They won't, sir," the tractor officer promised.

Nalgol felt a movement beside him. "You sent  for  me,  Captain?"  Oissan

said.

"That priority/threat list I asked for," Nalgol said shortly.  "Where  is

it?"

"The preliminary list has  been  filed,"  Oissan  said,  sounding  a  bit

flustered. "We were expecting to have more time to complete it."

"Well, you didn't, did you?" Nalgol bit out, thoroughly disgusted.  First

the strike team, now Oissan. "Get back to work. We still have an hour  or  two

before the battle out there winds down to where we'll be entering it."

"Yes, sir," Oissan said  stiffly.  "Will  you  be  wanting  my  staff  to

interrogate the prisoners?"

"What prisoners?"

"Why?" Oissan floundered. "The crews of those freighters out there."

Nalgol shook his head. "There will be no prisoners."

"But you said?"

"I said to bring them closer, that's all," Nalgol cut him off tartly.  "I

don't want any debris floating outside the cloaking shield where someone might

notice it."

He looked back out the viewport. The YT-1300 was twisting  madly  in  the

grip of the tractor beam,  still  trying  to  escape,  the  larger  Action  II

curiously quiet.

"Another minute or two,"  he  added,  "and  they'll  be  taken  care  of.

Permanently."

* * *

"There!" Lando snapped, pointing out the Industrious Thoughts's viewport.

"Didn't I tell you? The Ishori have recognized the danger and are heading  out

to take a look."

"They are merely running in an attempt  to  save  their  skins,"  Senator

Miatamia countered calmly. "Or else feel that the  heightened  maneuverability

available in deep space will serve their defense better."

"Fine," Lando said. "Either way, you can't just let them go."

"The Diamala seek no vengeance against anyone,"  the  Senator  said.  "We

have thwarted their unprovoked attack against Bothawui. That is sufficient for

now."

"But what about the threat I warned you about?" Lando demanded.  "We  bet

on it, remember?"

"If such a threat exists, and if the Ishori are indeed searching for  it,

they will surely discover it on their own," Miatamia said equably.  "There  is

no reason for any Diamalan ships to expose themselves to danger."

Lando glared out the viewport at the departing ship. However  she'd  done

it, Leia had gotten the Predominance to move against the  comet  and  whatever

surprise the Imperials had hidden out there.

But with Thrawn pulling the strings, the surprise  was  likely  to  be  a

memorable one. Almost certainly too big for a single  Ishori  war  cruiser  to

handle by itself... "I see," he said, striving to keep his voice  casual,  the

tone of a disinterested party who has nothing to gain one way  or  the  other.

"I'm sure the Ishori are just as happy to get away from you, too."

"What does it matter how the Ishori see things?" Miatamia said.

"Oh, no reason," Lando said with a shrug. "I was just  thinking  that  if

they decided they wanted to make a real fight of it, they'd need  to  call  in

reinforcements. And of course, once they're out  of  range  of  your  jamming,

they'll be able to do that."

Miatamia's ears curled over. "Surely they would not do such a thing."

"Why not?" Lando said. "Remember, they think  the  whole  Bothan  species

should pay for their part in the destruction of Caamas. If I  were  them,  I'd

figure that the space over Bothawui would be the  perfect  spot  to  hash  out

their differences with the Diamala."

He nodded back in the direction of the planet beneath  them.  "Especially

with part of the planetary shield collapsed the way it is. Any  battle  debris

that falls through that hole is just a bonus as far as they're concerned."

Miatamia was already at the intercom, speaking urgently  into  it.  Lando

stared out the viewport, holding his breath...

And then, to starboard and portside, he saw the other two Diamalan  ships

turn ponderously toward the departing Ishori war cruiser  and  begin  to  give

chase. A moment  later,  he  felt  the  slight  tug  of  acceleration  as  the

Industrious Thoughts followed suit.

"We will keep them  silent  until  the  Drev'starn  shield  generator  is

repaired," Miatamia said, rejoining Lando. "But when that is done,  they  will

be free to leave if they wish."

"Good enough," Lando said. "You're just bringing the three ships?"

Miatamia gazed out the viewport. "I have suggested to  the  captain  that

all Diamalan ships also be summoned to our side."

"Just in case I'm right after all?"

The Senator's  ears  twitched.  "As  I  have  said  to  you  before,  the

unanticipated may sometimes happen," he said evenly. "The Diamala  believe  in

being prepared for such an eventuality."

* * *

"Hang on," Han gritted, throwing the Falcon hard over first to  starboard

and then to port. No good; the tractor beam still had a solid  grip  on  them.

Reaching to the weapons board, he shifted the aim of the upper quad laser, now

firing continuously toward the Star Destroyer. Like the swivel  maneuver,  all

the firepower was doing no good, either.

"The portside stabilizer is flickering again," Elegos announced,  peering

at the monitor displays. "You may do serious damage to it if you continue this

way."

Han bit back a curse. Yes, he might blow the stabilizers. He  might  also

burn out a section of the sublight drive, or melt the quads, or even crack the

hull.

But he had no choice but to do whatever was necessary to get clear,  even

if he had to tear the life out  of  the  Falcon  to  do  it.  A  cloaked  Star

Destroyer meant an ambush... and the last thing an  ambushing  Imperial  would

want would be to leave witnesses behind.

Elegos, though, hadn't figured that  one  out  yet.  "Perhaps  we  should

attempt to surrender," the Caamasi suggested.

"Yeah?" Han grunted. "Why?"

"To prevent our destruction, of course," Elegos said. "Besides, Carib and

his group seem to have already done that."

"What do  you  mean?"  Han  asked,  frowning  as  he  searched  the  sky.

Preoccupied with his own part of the fight, he'd completely lost track of  the

Action II.

"I  mean  they  aren't  struggling  against  the  tractor  beam,"  Elegos

explained, pointing out the viewport.

He was right. There was Carib's freighter,  a  little  to  starboard  and

considerably closer to the dark hull than the Falcon was. Making no attempt at

all to escape.

But that didn't make sense. Surely Carib knew even  better  than  he  did

that there was going to be no such thing as surrender here.  Had  he  and  the

others already been killed?

Or had their newly professed allegiance to  Leia  and  the  New  Republic

never been anything more than a trick?

"Solo?" a voice crackled out from the speaker. "This is Carib. Get ready.

"

"Get ready for what?"

"What do you think?" Carib retorted. "And look; if we don't  make  it,  I

want you to see to it that our families are taken care of. Deal?"

Han threw a frown at Elegos. What in space??

"We have a deal," Elegos called toward the comm, looking  as  puzzled  as

Han felt but apparently willing to play along. "Don't worry."

"All right. It's been nice knowing you."

The comm  clicked  off.  Han  stared  out  at  the  freighter,  a  sudden

premonition sending a chill up his back?

And then, all at once, the Action II exploded.

Beside him, he heard Elegos gasp. "What??"

"Just watch," Han cut him off, gripping the helm yoke. "And like the  man

said, get ready." The flare and dust of the explosion cleared, blown  away  by

the expanding air from inside or snatched away by the tractor beam?

And suddenly, from the cloud of debris, a dozen  TIE  Interceptors  burst

out.

It took the Imperials no more than five seconds to react to this new  and

completely unexpected threat. But in this case, five seconds was far too long.

The TIEs swarmed close in across the hull, dodging  through  the  frantic

turbolaser fire with casual ease, systematically  blasting  the  tractor  beam

emplacements.

Han watched in fascination, memories  of  Baron  Fel's  legendary  flying

skill flooding back. Only this  time,  it  was  a  dozen  Baron  Fels  running

interference for him.

And with a jolt that cracked his teeth together, the Falcon was free.

"Hang on!" he snapped, cutting the ship around  in  a  tight  circle  and

pouring power to the sublight drive. The  Star  Destroyer's  turbolasers  were

starting to open up behind him now as they saw their quarry escaping,  and  he

threw the Falcon into a corkscrewing evasive maneuver as he drove hard  toward

the invisible edge of the cloaking shield. "You still have the comm  ready  to

transmit to those idiots over Bothawui?" he added, watching the rear deflector

indicator warily. If the shields  collapsed  before  they  made  it  out,  the

Imperials could still win.

"I'm ready," Elegos said. "As soon as?"

He broke off with a gasp. Han  twisted  his  head  to  the  side  as  the

familiar shape of a TIE Interceptor suddenly appeared alongside.  Reflexively,

he grabbed for the weapons board?

And relaxed just in time. Emblazoned on the TIE's solar  panels  was  the

New Republic insignia. Beyond the TIE the rest of Carib's unit was forming  up

on his flank?

And suddenly the darkness around them vanished, and they were  surrounded

by stars again. "That's it," he said. "Get busy with the comm."

Elegos cleared his throat. "I don't believe," he said, "that that will be

necessary."

Puzzled, Han turned to look.

And caught his breath. Driving resolutely toward them from the  direction

of Bothawui were a group of over a dozen heavy warships.

The comm crackled. "Han?" Lando's voice came.

"Yeah, Lando," Han called back.  "Watch  yourselves?there's  an  Imperial

Star Destroyer under that cloaking shield."

"Understood," Lando said. "Are those TIE interceptors with you?"

Han smiled grimly. "You bet they are. Can you whistle up some more help?"

"Captain Solo, this is Senator Miatamia," a new voice spoke up.  "We  are

transmitting your warning to all ships allied to the  Diamala  and  requesting

their assistance."

"Great," Han said. "I suggest you invite the Ishori  in  on  this  party,

too. We're going to need all the help we can get."

"Han?" Leia's voice cut in, sounding breathless and  relieved  and  tense

all at the same time. "Han, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, hon," he assured her. "You still with the Ishori?"

"Yes," she said. "The captain's still not sure?"

She broke off abruptly. "Leia?" Han barked.

"Never mind," she said, a sudden grim tone in her voice. "I  don't  think

he has any doubts anymore."

Han frowned, swinging the Falcon around in a  tight  circle  and  looking

back. The Star Destroyer, its ambush now thwarted, had  dropped  its  cloaking

shield.

Only it wasn't just a single Star Destroyer pulling away from  the  comet

toward the incoming fleet. It was three of them.

He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Now it's a fight."

CHAPTER

41

"Report from Base Command, Admiral," the comm  officer  called  from  the

portside crew pit. "Enemy Star Destroyer has disabled two more of the  tractor

beam emplacements."

"Have repairs  begun  immediately  on  those  emplacements,  Lieutenant,"

Thrawn said coolly. "And order Base Command to lock three more beams onto  the

target."

Standing a little way off to  Disra's  left,  just  aft  of  the  command

walkway, Paloma D'asima muttered something under her breath to Karoly  D'ulin.

"A question?" Disra asked, taking a step toward the two Mistryl.

The older woman nodded toward Thrawn. "I was telling Karoly I don't  like

any of this," she said, her tone disgusted. "He's playing with them.  Why  not

just blast them and be done with it?"

"Grand Admiral Thrawn is a very  subtle  man,"  Disra  said,  hoping  the

loftiness of his tone would discourage her from asking questions  he  couldn't

answer. As a matter of fact, he didn't understand what Tierce had in mind with

this one, either. But the major was standing straight  and  tall  at  Thrawn's

side, exactly as a good aide should, so presumably everything was still  going

according to plan.

Thrawn must have overheard the comment. He murmured something to  Tierce,

got a nod of agreement, and the major turned and walked back  to  where  Disra

and the two Mistryl stood. "Admiral Thrawn heard your question and asked me to

come explain his reasoning to you," he said, stepping to D'asima's side  where

he could talk to her while still keeping an eye on  Bel  Iblis's  attempts  to

break free of the trap. "He isn't interested in destroying General Bel  Iblis,

you see.

On the contrary, he wants the general to  surrender  his  ship  and  crew

intact."

He gestured toward the multiple turbolaser blasts. "But as you  can  also

see, Bel Iblis is a proud and stubborn man. He has to be convinced first  that

he has no chance against  the  resources  of  this  base.  Admiral  Thrawn  is

therefore giving him a chance to do his best against us."

"Showing him the futility of resistance," D'asima said. She still  didn't

sound exactly pleased, but at least the disgust was no longer evident  in  her

tone. "And adding salt to the sore by increasing the number of  tractor  beams

each time Bel Iblis knocks one out."

"Exactly," Tierce said, beaming. "Admiral Thrawn has always been  one  to

treat even his enemies with respect."

"Though naturally he treats his allies far  better,"  Disra  put  in.  It

wouldn't hurt to remind D'asima why she was here in the first place.

"Admiral?" the  comm  officer  called  again.  "We're  getting  a  direct

transmission from the perimeter defense coordinator. He urgently requests your

assistance in dealing with the X-wings that have broken through his line."

Disra threw a startled look at Tierce behind D'asima's  head.  "X-wings?"

he demanded.

"I don't know," Tierce replied, his voice taut. He made as  if  to  hurry

back to Thrawn's side, checked himself just in time at a quick  warning  glare

from Disra.

It wouldn't do, the Moff had already warned them both, for Tierce to look

too vital to the operation. The con man up there knew how to get him  back  if

he needed him.

But for the moment, at least, their Grand Admiral seemed to have it under

control. "What X-wings are those, Lieutenant?" he asked, his  voice  calm  but

with an edge to it.

"He says he reported the penetration to General Hestiv over  ten  minutes

ago," the comm officer said, sounding confused. "They  apparently  sneaked  in

behind one of our freighters."

"One of our freighters?" Thrawn asked.

"An Imperial freighter, sir,"  the  officer  corrected  himself  hastily.

"Supply run, probably. The coordinator reports it was running all  the  proper

access codes."

"I'm sure it was," Thrawn said, his glowing eyes flashing.  "And  General

Hestiv just happened to forget to pass this information on to us, did he?"

His gaze shifted around, fell on Tierce. "Major Tierce?"

"Yes, sir," Tierce said, stepping briskly forward at the  cue.  "Shall  I

locate that freighter for you?"

"Please," Thrawn said gravely, picking up on the cue in turn.

And then, still  looking  back  in  their  direction,  the  glowing  eyes

suddenly widened. Disra frowned?

"Don't trouble yourself, Major," a  familiar  voice  called  from  behind

Disra. "The freighter in question is currently docked  in  your  number  seven

hangar bay."

Slowly, disbelievingly, Disra turned around. It couldn't be. It couldn't.

But it was. There he stood, in the center of the archway leading  to  the

aft bridge.

Admiral Pellaeon.

* * *

The element of surprise was gone, the fratricidal  battle  over  Bothawui

cut short sooner than the Imperials had most likely hoped. Even now, Leia saw,

the last lingering shots of that conflict were dwindling away as  the  various

combatants woke up to the greater danger on their flank.

But even in its brevity the fight had taken a heavy toll, she realized as

she studied the Predominance's tactical display. Out of the nearly two hundred

ships that  had  been  fighting,  fewer  than  a  hundred  ten  were  arraying

themselves for battle against the three  Star  Destroyers  now  moving  toward

them.

"We're outgunned, aren't we?" Gavrisom said quietly from her side.

"I'm afraid we are," Leia conceded. "And even the ships  that  can  still

fight have all taken damage. Those Star Destroyers are fresh and rested."

"And not all of our ships may actually stay with us once they compute the

odds for themselves," Gavrisom  said,  twitching  his  wings.  "Even  with  my

general summons under Section 45-2, the fact is, we are still asking  them  to

fight in defense of Bothawui and the Bothan people."

Leia nodded grimly. "Something which at least half of them aren't  really

interested in doing."

"Leia?"

She lifted her comlink. "I'm here, Han," she said. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, sure," he said,  dismissing  the  danger  casually.  "They  gave  up

shooting at us a long time ago. Look,  Elegos  has  been  counting  the  ships

you've got there, and neither of us is very happy with the numbers he's coming

up with."

"Neither are any of the rest of us," Leia said. "Gavrisom has a  call  in

to any New Republic forces nearby, but so far there's been no response."

"Yeah, well, maybe I can come up with  something,"  Han  said,  his  tone

studiously casual. "You know if Fey'lya's on Bothawui at the moment?"

Leia frowned. "Actually, I believe he is. Why?"

"You know how to reach him?"

"His private comlink frequency's in the Falcon's computer,  listed  under

his name," Leia said. "Why?"

"I'm going to try a little diplomacy," he told her. "See if you can stall

off those Star Destroyers a little."

He clicked off. "Right," Leia murmured to herself. "Stall them off."

Beside her, Gavrisom shook his  mane.  "There  is  one  other  matter  of

immediate concern, Leia," he said. "This fleet is made up of  beings  who,  by

and large, do not trust each other. We need someone in command  who  all  will

trust, or at least tolerate."

"That one I may be able to  solve,"  Leia  said,  rekeying  her  comlink.

"Lando?"

"Yes, Leia?"

"Lando, at the request of President Gavrisom,  I'd  like  you  to  accept

immediate reinstatement into the New Republic military," she  said.  "We  need

you to take command of this defense force."

There was a short pause. "You are kidding," he said.

"Not at all, General," Gavrisom assured him. "As a  hero  of  Taanab  and

Endor, you are precisely the one we need."

There was a faintly audible sigh. "I'd argue if I thought it would do any

good," Lando said reluctantly. "All right, I'll do it. It would have been nice

if you could have given me a bigger fleet to work with, though."

"Hey, no problem, buddy," Han's voice broke in. "It's all taken care  of.

Take a look behind you."

Leia stared at the bridge's aft-view display, feeling her  mouth  falling

open.

Rising rapidly from the surface of Bothawui were over  a  hundred  ships,

everything from Z-95 Headhunters to Skipray Blastboats to  even  a  few  small

capital warships. And more were still rising through  the  atmosphere.  "Han!"

she gasped. "What in the worlds did you do?"

"Like I said, a little diplomacy," Han said. "I got to  remembering  that

Thrawn suggested to Lando and me  that  Fey'lya  had  a  little  private  army

stashed away.

Made sense to me, so I called the little furball and pointed out that any

Bothan who helped save Bothawui could really cash in on that when this was all

over."

"And Fey'lya came up with all of that?" Leia asked, still  not  believing

it.

"Not exactly," Han said smugly. "Turns out there  was  a  lot  of  signal

leakage in my transmission. Battle damage, probably. I figure half the  planet

must have heard what I said to him."

And finally, Leia understood. "And of course none of them wanted  Fey'lya

to grab all the glory for himself," she said, smiling tightly.  "Have  I  told

you lately that you're brilliant?"

"No," he said. "But that's okay?you've been busy. Are we ready?"

"We're ready," Leia said, nodding. "General Calrissian: your fleet awaits

your orders."

* * *

For a long minute the bridge seemed to have become suspended in time  and

space.

Moff Disra stood stiffly where he was, a couple of steps  away  from  the

two female civilians, his face contorted with disbelief and hatred and perhaps

even a touch of fear. Major Tierce had stopped, too, halfway along the command

walkway, looking back at Pellaeon with an unreadable expression on his face.

Captain Dorja and the officers at the side consoles were staring back  at

him, and even the men down in the crew pits had somehow sensed  something  was

wrong and had dropped their voices to whispers.

"Admiral Pellaeon," Thrawn's smoothly modulated voice broke the silence.

Pellaeon had rather expected him to  be  the  first  to  speak.  "Welcome

aboard the Relentless. I'm afraid we somehow missed the news of your arrival."

"As I somehow missed the news of your return," Pellaeon  countered.  Like

Tierce, the expression behind those  glowing  red  eyes  was  unreadable.  "An

unintentional oversight, I'm sure."

"Are you questioning the Grand Admiral's decisions?" Disra snarled.

"On the contrary," Pellaeon assured him. "I've  always  had  the  highest

respect for Grand Admiral Thrawn."

"Then why sneak aboard this way?" Tierce demanded, coming back along  the

walkway and stopping next to the younger  of  the  two  women.  "Do  you  have

something to hide? Or some dark errand of treason to carry out?"

Deliberately, Pellaeon shifted his gaze  from  the  major  to  the  women

beside him.

"I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced,"  he  said,  bowing  his

head in greeting. "I'm Admiral Pellaeon, Supreme Commander of Imperial forces.

"

"Not anymore you're not," Disra growled.  "Grand  Admiral  Thrawn  is  in

command now."

"Really," Pellaeon said, eyeing him coolly. "I  wasn't  informed  of  any

change of command. Another unintentional oversight?"

"Take care, Admiral," Tierce warned  softly.  "You're  treading  on  very

slippery ground here."

Pellaeon shook his head. "You're mistaken,  Major,"  he  said.  "Whatever

slippery ground exists here is beneath your feet." He looked  at  Disra.  "And

yours, Your Excellency."

He shifted his gaze to the man in the white Grand Admiral's uniform. "And

yours...

Flim."

Disra's head jerked as if he'd touched a live power cable. "What are  you

talking about?" he demanded. But there was a new tremor in the  Moff's  voice,

and his eyes were those of a man seeing sudden destruction  coming  inexorably

toward him.

"I'm talking about an accomplished con artist,"  Pellaeon  said,  raising

his voice so that the entire bridge could hear. "I have  his  rather  colorful

life history right here," he added, pulling a  datacard  from  his  tunic  and

holding it up. "Including detailed holos and a complete genetic profile."

He looked across at Flim. "Would you care to accompany me to the  nearest

medical station for an examination?"

"But we checked  his  genetic  profile,  sir,"  Captain  Dorja  objected,

stepping away from the side console where he'd been standing. "Captain  Nalgol

took a skin sample and compared it to Thrawn's official records."

"Records can be altered, Captain," Pellaeon reminded him. "Even  official

records, if the access codes have been sliced. When we return to Bastion,  you

can compare the genetic records with those on this datacard."

"Lies can even more easily be created on  datacards,"  Tierce  said.  His

voice was calm, but there was an edge of something vicious beneath  it.  "This

is nothing but a last, pitiful attempt to  undermine  Grand  Admiral  Thrawn's

authority, driven by Pellaeon's  jealous  fear  of  losing  his  position  and

prestige."

He half turned. "You see  it,  Captain  Dorja,  don't  you?"  he  called.

"Thrawn came to you instead of Pellaeon?that's what he can't stomach. He  came

to you and Nalgol and the others and not to him."

Dorja's eyes met Pellaeon's, his face  tight  with  confusion.  "Admiral,

I've always trusted your word and your judgment," he said. "But in this case..

."

"There's one other record of interest on this datacard,"  Pellaeon  said,

looking back at Tierce. "Again, from the same source. It's the record and life

history of a certain Imperial Major Grodin Tierce."

Slowly, Tierce turned back to face  him.  And  this  time  there  was  no

mistaking the murder in his eyes. "And what does that record  say?"  he  asked

softly.

"It says that Major Tierce was one of  the  finest  combat  stormtroopers

ever to serve the Empire," Pellaeon told him. "That his successes  raised  him

to command rank far more quickly than even stormtrooper norm. That at the  age

of twenty-four he was selected to serve the Emperor as one of the elite  Royal

Guard. That his fierce loyalty to Palpatine's New Order was second to none."

Pellaeon  lifted  his  eyebrows  slightly.  "And  that,  as  part  of   a

stormtrooper unit involved in Thrawn's campaign against Generis,  he  died  in

combat.

"Ten years ago."

Once again, the bridge went silent. But this time it wasn't  the  silence

of surprise. It was the silence of total shock.

"You're a clone." The words had come from Disra, but  the  voice  was  so

distorted as to be almost unrecognizable. "You're just a clone."

Slowly, Tierce turned his venomous gaze from Pellaeon to Disra. And then,

abruptly, he barked out a short, tortured-sounding laugh. "Just a  clone,"  he

repeated mockingly. "Just a clone?is that what you said, Disra? Just a clone?

You have no idea."

He looked around the room. "None of you do. I wasn't just a  clone?I  was

something very special. Something special and glorious."

"Why don't you tell us what that was," Pellaeon invited quietly.

Tierce spun back to face him. "I was the first of a new  breed,"  he  bit

out. "The first of what would have been a class of warlords the likes of which

the galaxy had never seen. Warlords who combined stormtrooper combat  strength

and loyalty with Thrawn's own tactical genius. We would have led, and we would

have conquered, and no one could have stood against us."

He turned around, his movements becoming almost jerky in  his  agitation.

"Don't you see?" he shouted, his eyes darting to  each  of  the  officers  and

crewers staring in fascination or revulsion at him. "Thrawn  took  Tierce  and

cloned him, but he put some of himself into the process. He added part of  his

own tactical genius to the usual flash-learning, combining  it  with  Tierce's

own mind."

He spun again to face Disra. "You've seen it, Disra. Whether you know  it

or not, you've seen it. I was manipulating you from the very  start?don't  you

see? It was me, right from the minute I maneuvered myself in as your aide. All

those pirate attacks?the Preybird deals?that was me. All me. You never saw it?

you never even guessed it?but I was the one making the quiet  suggestions  and

feeding you the right data in the right order to get you to do what I wanted.

"And all the rest of you have seen it, too," he shouted, spinning  around

again.

"I've  been  running  the  tactics  here.  Not  Flim?not  that   red-eyed

figurehead. Me.

It's always been me. And I'm good at it?it's what Thrawn made me to be. I

can do this."

His eyes seized on Disra again. "You talk about the Hand of  Thrawn,  his

last ultimate weapon," he said, his voice almost pleading. "I can be that Hand

of Thrawn. I can be Thrawn himself. I can defeat the New Republic?I know it."

"No, Major," Pellaeon said. "The war is over."

Tierce spun back to face him. "No," he snarled. "It's not over. Not  yet.

Not until we've crushed Coruscant. Not until we've had our  vengeance  against

the Rebels."

Pellaeon gazed at him, pity and revulsion swirling together  within  him.

"You don't understand at all," he said sadly. "Thrawn was never interested  in

vengeance.

His goal was order, and stability, and the strength that comes  of  unity

and common purpose."

"And how would you know what Thrawn was interested in?"  Tierce  sneered.

"Do you have part of his mind inside you? Well? Do you?"

Pellaeon sighed. "You say you were the first of these  new  warlords.  Do

you know why there weren't any others?"

Tierce's eyes seemed to withdraw within him. "He ran  out  of  time,"  he

said. "He died at Bilbringi. You let him die at Bilbringi."

"No." Pellaeon lifted the datacard slightly. "You were created two months

before his death?there was plenty of time for him to  have  made  others.  The

fact is that there weren't any others because the experiment was a failure."

"Impossible," Tierce breathed. "I wasn't a failure. Look  at  me?look  at

me. I'm exactly what he wanted."

Pellaeon shook his head. "What  he  wanted  was  a  tactically  brilliant

leader," he said gently. "What he got was a tactically brilliant stormtrooper.

You're not a leader, Major.  By  your  own  statement  you're  nothing  but  a

manipulator. You have no vision, only a thirst for revenge."

Tierce's eyes darted around the bridge, as if looking for support.  "That

doesn't matter," he ground out. "What matters is that I can do the job. I  can

defeat the Rebels. Just give me a little more time."

"There is no more time," Pellaeon said with quiet finality. "The  war  is

over." He looked over at Ardiff.  "Captain  Ardiff,  please  call  a  security

detachment to the bridge." He started to turn away?

And in that instant, Tierce exploded into action.

The young woman standing beside him was his first victim,  doubling  over

in agony as Tierce swung his fist viciously down and back into her stomach. In

the same motion he plucked away the blaster that had suddenly appeared in  her

hand, twisting around to fire a  shot  at  the  older  woman  as  the  younger

collapsed to the deck. He twisted  back,  bringing  the  blaster  to  bear  on

Pellaeon. There was a flicker of movement at the corner of Pellaeon's eye?

And Tierce jerked back, screaming in rage and pain as his  gun  hand  was

slapped to the side, the shot going wide, the blaster itself flying  uselessly

from his grip to skitter across the deck and down into the starboard crew pit.

And from concealment around the side  of  the  archway  behind  Pellaeon,

gliding silently across the deck, came Shada D'ukal.

Tierce didn't even bother to pull out  the  lacquered  zenji  needle  now

waving bloodily from the back of his  gun  hand.  Screaming  incoherently,  he

hooked his fingers into predator's claws and charged.

Reflexively, Pellaeon took a step backward. But he needn't have bothered.

Shada was already there, meeting Tierce halfway.

And in a blurred flurry of hands and arms, it was all over.

"Captain Dorja, call a medical team to the bridge," Pellaeon  ordered  as

Shada stepped over Tierce's broken body and hurried over to kneel  beside  the

injured woman. "Then order all Imperial forces to cease fire immediately."

"Yes, sir," Dorja said hesitantly. "However..."

Flim lifted a blue-skinned hand. "What he's trying to find words to  say,

Admiral, is that they'll expect any such order  to  come  from  Grand  Admiral

Thrawn," he said. His  voice  had  changed,  subtly  but  noticeably;  and  as

Pellaeon glanced around the bridge, he saw that they  finally  recognized  the

truth. "If you'll permit me?"

Pellaeon gestured. "Go ahead."

Flim turned to the comm  officer  and  nodded.  "This  is  Grand  Admiral

Thrawn," he called, once again in that exquisitely perfect voice. "All  units,

cease fire; repeat, cease fire. General Bel Iblis, please call on your  forces

to do likewise, then stand by for a transmission from Admiral Pellaeon."

He took a deep breath and let it out; and as  he  did  so,  the  aura  of

leadership and command subtly fell away from him. He was just a man  again,  a

man in blue makeup and a white uniform.

And Grand Admiral Thrawn was once again gone.

"And may I say to you, Admiral," he added as he  walked  back  along  the

command walkway, "how relieved I am that you're here.  This  whole  thing  has

been a nightmare for me. An absolute nightmare."

"Of course," Pellaeon said gravely. "We'll have to make  time  later  for

you to tell me your tale of woe."

Flim half bowed. "I'll look forward to that, sir."

"Yes," Pellaeon said, looking over at Disra. "So will I."

CHAPTER

42

The loud gushing sound had subsided now to a quiet sloshing as the  water

continued to creep its slow but steady  way  up  the  sides  of  the  room.  A

sloshing sound that was being rhythmically  punctuated  by  the  splashing  of

chunks of rock as Luke's lightsaber carved a deepening conical  pit  into  the

top of the dome.

"I think you're wasting your time,"  Mara  said  as  the  splash  from  a

particularly large chunk echoed through the room. "There's  nothing  up  there

but solid rock."

"I think you're right," Luke conceded, shifting his arm  to  a  new  spot

around her shoulders and trying to hold her  a  little  closer.  Soaked  clear

through, they were both shivering in the cool, damp  air.  "I  was  hoping  we

might be able to punch through to the main power generator area. But  I  guess

if we haven't hit it by now, it's not there."

"It's probably twenty meters behind us," she said, her  teeth  chattering

slightly.

"We'd never be able to cut through to it in time. Are your ears  starting

to hurt?"

"A little," Luke  said,  reluctantly  closing  down  his  lightsaber  and

calling it back to his hand. Cutting through the ceiling had  been  his  last,

best idea. "The air in here's being compressed. The extra pressure should help

slow down the incoming water a little."

"Along with making our eyes go all buggy." Mara  nodded  toward  the  far

wall. "You suppose there's any chance the top of the room's above the level of

the lake? If it is, we might be able to cut our way out horizontally."

"And if it isn't, we'd drown ourselves that much  sooner,"  Luke  pointed

out. "Anyway, I really don't think we're high enough."

"I didn't think so, either," Mara agreed regretfully, leaning forward  to

look past Luke at Artoo. "Too bad we lost  the  datapad?we  could  have  asked

Artoo to take some sensor readings. We could still  ask,  of  course,  but  we

couldn't understand the answer."

"Wait a minute," Luke said, another  idea  suddenly  hitting  him.  "What

about that passageway where we first came in? We could send Artoo  there  with

my lightsaber to enlarge it."

"No good." Mara shook her head, the movement sending strands of wet  hair

slapping gently across Luke's cheek. "That whole  section  is  solid  cortosis

ore.

I checked it the first time we went through."

Luke grimaced. "I thought it sounded too easy."

"Isn't it always," Mara said, the faint sarcasm sounding odd coming as it

did through chattering teeth. "Too bad we don't have  a  Dark  Jedi  handy  we

could kill.

Remember that big blast when C'baoth died?"

"Yes," Luke said mechanically, staring off into space.  The  insane  Jedi

clone Joruus C'baoth, recruited to fight against the  New  Republic  by  Grand

Admiral Thrawn.

Thrawn. Clone...

"Mara, you told me cortosis ore wasn't structurally very strong. Just how

weak is it?"

"It was flaking off under our boots as we walked  through  the  passage,"

she said, throwing him a  puzzled  look.  "Other  than  that,  I  haven't  the

faintest idea. Why?"

Luke nodded at the vast pool below them. "We've got a lot of water  here,

and water isn't compressible the way air is. If we could create a hard  enough

jolt here in this room, the pressure wave should travel all the way  down  the

tunnel to the passageway. If it's powerful enough, maybe we can collapse  that

whole area."

"Sounds great," Mara  agreed.  "Just  one  problem:  how  exactly  do  we

engineer this massive jolt of yours?"

Luke braced himself. "We cut  through  that  transparisteel  barrier  and

flood the cloning alcove."

"Oh, my stars," Mara murmured; and even  through  his  mental  exhaustion

Luke could feel her ripple of stunned apprehension. "Luke, that's  a  Braxxon-

Fipps 590 fusion generator in there. You dump water on that and  you're  going

to have more jolt than you know what to do with."

"I know it's risky," Luke said. "But  I  think  it's  our  only  chance."

Letting go of his grip on her, wincing as his wet clothing shifted against his

skin, he stood up. "Wait here; I'll be right back."

She sighed. "No," she said, standing up beside him and taking hold of his

arm. "I'll do it."

"Like blazes you will," Luke growled. "It's my crazy idea. I'll do it."

"Okay," she said, crossing her arms. "Tell me how you do a Paparak cross-

cut."

He blinked. "A what?"

"A Paparak cross-cut," she repeated. "It's a technique  for  weakening  a

stressed wall so that it comes down a minute or so after you're safely out  of

the vicinity. Palpatine taught it to me as part of my sabotage training."

"Okay," Luke said. "So give me a fast course."

"What, like a fast course in becoming a Jedi?" she countered  scornfully.

"It's not that easy."

"Mara?"

"Besides," she added quietly, "when whichever of us  goes  down  pops  up

again, the other one's going to have to get them back up here out of  the  way

of the blast.

I don't think I can lift you  that  far  that  fast."  Her  lips  pressed

briefly together. "And frankly, I don't want to  sit  here  and  watch  myself

fail."

Luke glared at her. But she was right, and they both knew  it.  "This  is

blackmail, you know."

"This is common sense," she corrected him. "The right person for the job,

remember?" She smiled faintly. "Or do you need another lecture on that topic?"

"Spare me," he said with a sigh, running his fingertips across her cheek.

"All right, I'll lift you over there. Be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry," she said, taking a deep breath and pulling her  lightsaber

from her belt. "Ready."

Stretching out to the Force, he lifted her over the  railing  and  across

the room to the transparisteel  wall.  Her  mind  touched  his,  her  thoughts

indicating she was ready, and he lowered her into the water. She  took  a  few

more deep breaths, then bent at the waist and  ducked  her  head  beneath  the

surface. A single vertical kick of her legs, and she was gone.

Across the ledge, Artoo moaned nervously. "She'll  be  all  right,"  Luke

assured him, gripping the top rail as he stared anxiously at the choppy water.

He could feel Mara's thoughts as she maneuvered her way back and forth  across

the wall, making short, deliberate cuts with her  lightsaber.  Stretching  out

harder, he could sense the change in flow against her skin as the water  began

to seep through the cracks.

And if the water level rose high enough in there to reach  the  generator

before she was finished...

"Come on, Mara, come on,"  he  muttered  under  his  breath.  "It's  good

enough?let's go."

He felt her negative  thought;  the  wall  wasn't  yet  shredded  to  her

satisfaction.

Luke pressed back his impatience and fear,  the  faces  of  Callista  and

Gaeriel hovering before him. Only a week ago he'd told himself firmly that  he

could never permit himself to love Mara, that such a closeness and  commitment

from him would inevitably put her in danger.

And now he'd reneged on that determination. And sure enough, like all the

others, his actions or inactions had put her  in  deadly  danger.  He  felt  a

flicker in her emotions, mixing with the fear and dread rising chokingly  from

within him?

And suddenly her head breached the surface. "Got it," she gasped.

He had her moving before the second word  was  even  out  of  her  mouth,

pulling her toward him with all the speed he could manage. He flipped her over

the railing and lowered her flat on  her  stomach  on  the  ledge,  stretching

himself protectively down on top of her as she landed. "How soon?"  he  asked,

reaching out to the Force to try to  create  a  low-level  shield  that  could

provide at least a minimal barrier against the impending explosion.

"Could be anytime," Mara answered, her voice muffled by the rock wall she

was facing. "And by the way, just for future reference,  don't  you  ever  not

care for someone just because  you're  afraid  they  might  get  hurt  in  the

process.

Especially not me. You got that?"

Luke grimaced in embarrassment. "You  weren't  supposed  to  hear  that."

Behind  him,  he  heard  the  sudden  crack  and  surging  of  water  as   the

transparisteel wall collapsed?

And with a brilliant flash he could see even with his eyes squeezed shut,

the generator blew up.

The sound of the blast itself was almost muffled; but  the  roar  of  the

wave that slammed over them more than made up for it.  The  water  surged  and

roiled all around them, effortlessly picking them up and  slamming  them  back

and forth between the wall, the ledge, and the railing. Luke held grimly on to

Mara, wishing belatedly he'd thought to tie Artoo down somehow.

And then, as suddenly as it had struck, the  swirling  water  fell  away,

leaving them bruised and drenched but otherwise unharmed.  Shaking  the  water

out of his eyes, Luke pushed himself up on one arm and  looked  out  into  the

chamber.

And caught his breath. Only one of the room's glow  panels  had  survived

the explosion; but by its dim light he could see  that  the  water  level  was

rapidly going down. "Mara?look. It worked."

"I'll be Kesseled," she said, spitting out some water. "Now what? We jump

in and follow the flow?"

Luke leaned over the railing, trying to see the exit tunnel. If it wasn't

still full to the ceiling...

But it was. "It's not quite that simple," he told Mara. "The flow  should

carry us back into the caverns, all right, but there's  still  the  matter  of

getting through the tunnel and underground room."

"Why don't we just wait until the level goes down far enough?"

"We can't," Luke said. "I don't know why."

"Jedi hunch," Mara said. "Then we're back  to  hibernation  trances.  How

fast can you put me in one?"

"Pretty fast," he told her. "Take a few deep breaths, and  tell  me  what

phrase you want me to use to snap you out of it."

"A phrase, right," she said, inhaling deeply, a strangely  cautious  mood

touching her mind. "Okay. See if you can handle this one..."

She told him, and he smiled. "Got it," he said, and  stretched  out  with

the Force.

A minute later she was fast asleep in his arms. "You  go  first,  Artoo,"

Luke told the droid, lifting him up with the Force and  easing  him  over  the

railing. "We'll be right behind you."

The droid warbled; and then he was in the water, his dome  bobbing  above

the waves as he was swept toward the tunnel. Wrapping  his  arms  protectively

around Mara, Luke jumped in behind him. The current grabbed them, pushing them

along behind the bobbing droid as Luke struggled to  keep  their  heads  above

water. The wall and the top of the  tunnel  archway  loomed  ahead;  and  just

before they reached it, Luke took a deep breath and pulled them both under the

surface.

The rest of the trip was a blur of dizzying speed, continual buffeting of

the water, near-collisions with smooth walls and rough stone, aching eyes  and

lungs.

Through his half trance Luke was vaguely aware of  where  they  left  the

tunnel and entered the underground room; was more sharply aware of where  they

slammed through the newly enlarged gap in the wall and the protective cortosis

ore barrier as the turbulence threw them back and forth against the rock.  The

torrent dragged them, twisting and turning, through the  caverns  and  tunnels

they'd so laboriously picked their way through  days  earlier  with  Child  Of

Winds and the Qom Jha. Dimly through his slow asphyxiation,  Luke  decided  it

was just as well  that  they'd  cut  away  so  many  of  the  stalactites  and

stalagmites that would have been in their way...

Abruptly, he snapped awake, half submerged in water, his head  and  chest

resting precariously on a slimy boulder, Artoo's  frantic  twittering  in  his

ears. "Okay, right," he managed, shaking his head to clear it.

And suddenly stiffened. Mara was gone.

He shook his head again, digging out his glow rod with numb,  half-frozen

fingers as he scrabbled around looking for footing. He found  it  immediately;

the water he was in turned out to be only waist high. He fumbled the glow  rod

out at last and flicked it on.

He was standing in  a  pool  just  off  the  edge  of  the  last  of  the

underground rivers he and Mara  had  passed  during  their  trip  through  the

caverns. Five meters to his left, the torrent that had brought them  here  had

vanished, leaving only the river rippling its sedate way along.

And two meters to his right, bobbing gently in the pool  as  she  floated

beside the craggy rock, was Mara. Her eyes closed, her arms and legs limp.  As

if in death.

The precise image he'd seen of her in that Jedi vision on Tierfon.

And then he was at her side, raising her head out of the water, gazing at

her face in sudden fear. If the trance hadn't kept her alive?if  she'd  struck

something hard enough to kill her after he'd lost his grip on her?

Behind him, Artoo whistled impatiently. "Right," Luke agreed, cutting off

his sudden panic. All he had to do to bring her out of it was  speak  the  key

phrase she'd chosen, the phrase she'd  wondered  aloud  if  he  could  handle.

Almost as if she was afraid he couldn't...

He took a deep breath. "I love you, Mara."

Her eyes blinked open, blinked again as she chased the water  from  them.

"Hi," she said, breathing heavily  as  she  grabbed  his  arm  and  maneuvered

herself upright. "I see we made it."

"Yes," Luke said, taking her in his arms and  holding  her  tightly,  his

tension and fear evaporating into a mist of utter calm and relief. The  vision

had been passed, and Mara had survived it.

And they were together again. Forever.

"Yes," Mara murmured. "Forever."

They loosened their grips on each other, just  slightly...  and  standing

together in the cold water, their lips came together in a kiss.

It seemed like a long time  before  Mara  gently  pulled  away  from  the

embrace. "Not to put a damper on this," she said, "but we're  both  shivering,

and we're still a long way from home. Where are we, anyway?"

"Back at our underground river," Luke told her, reluctantly bringing  his

mind back to practical matters.

"Ah." She peered toward the stream. "What happened to our personal flood?

"

"It seems to  have  ended,"  Luke  said.  "Either  we  drained  the  lake

completely?"

"Which is real unlikely."

"Right," Luke said. "Or else it's gotten stopped up again somehow."

"Probably more of the chamber wall collapsed," Mara said, reaching up  to

push back some of the hair that had gotten plastered  across  her  cheek.  "Or

else it's jammed up with what's left of the cloning equipment."

Luke nodded, helping her push the rest of her hair back out of  the  way.

"Good thing we didn't wait any longer to make our exit."

"Sure is," Mara agreed. "Handy things, those Jedi hunches. You'll have to

teach me how to do those."

"We'll work on it," Luke promised, wading toward the edge of the pond. "I

think the Qom Jha said this river emptied out into a small waterfall."

"Sounds good," Mara said. "Let's go find it."

* * *

Another wave of Skipray Blastboats shot past, pelting the  Tyrannic  with

laser fire. Behind them, two of the Ishori war cruisers had gotten inside  the

kill zone and were scattering a dazzling pattern of more  powerful  turbolaser

blasts across the ridgeline. "Two more starboard turbolasers knocked out," the

fire control officer called tensely. "Forward  ridgeline  has  been  breached;

crews are sealing it off."

"Acknowledged,"  Nalgol  said,  hearing  his  voice  trembling   with   a

frustrated and wholly impotent fury.  It  was  unthinkable?unthinkable?that  a

fleet of three Imperial Star Destroyers should find  themselves  fighting  for

their survival against such a pitiful ragtag of aliens and alien-lovers.

But that was exactly what they were doing. There were just  too  many  of

them to keep track of. Too many of them to fight.

And with all his pride in his ship and his crew and  his  Empire,  Nalgol

was realist enough to know when the fight had become hopeless.

"Signal to the Obliterator and Ironhand,"  he  ordered  between  clenched

teeth. "Pull back and withdraw. Repeat: pull back and withdraw."

"Acknowledged, Captain," the comm officer replied.

"What heading, sir?" the helmsman called.

"A short jump in any direction." Nalgol glared  out  the  viewport.  "And

after that, set course directly for Bastion. Grand  Admiral  Thrawn  needs  to

hear about this."

And he would indeed hear about it, Nalgol promised himself silently. Yes,

indeed.

He would hear all about it.

* * *

The waterfall exit was considerably less cozy than Luke had  expected  it

to be, the hole possibly having been enlarged  by  the  flood  that  had  just

forced its way through. There weren't any footholds right at the mouth, but in

the dim starlight Mara spotted a likely ledge about five meters to  the  left.

Using the Force, Luke lifted first Mara, then Artoo, across the gap.  Then,  a

bit more tentatively, Mara brought him across to join them.

"Any idea what side of the fortress we're on?" she asked, looking  around

the darkened landscape. "Or how much longer we've got until dawn?"

"No, to both questions," Luke said, stretching out with the Force.  There

was no danger nearby that  he  could  detect.  "Probably  the  far  side;  and

probably not more than a couple more hours."

"We'd better use the time to get under cover," she suggested, peering  up

at the cliff above them. "We don't want to be out in the open when Parck sends

out his search parties."

"I just hope he doesn't find the ship we  borrowed,"  Luke  said.  "Aside

from giving him back his quick access to Bastion, it would lose  us  our  only

way of getting out of here together."

"Well, if he does, you and Artoo will just have to take your  X-wing  and

go for help," Mara said.

"You mean you and Artoo will go," Luke said firmly. "I mean  that,  Mara.

No argument this time?"

Jedi Sky Walker?

Luke looked up. Fluttering to a landing on a boulder above  them  were  a

dozen dark shapes.

And the tone and mind of one of them  seemed  very  familiar.  "Yes,"  he

said. "Is that you, Hunter Of Winds?"

It is I, the Qom Qae confirmed. My son,  Child  Of  Winds,  informed  all

nearby nestings of your deeds this night.  We  have  been  watching  for  your

return.

"Thank you," Luke said. "We very much appreciate your  efforts.  Can  you

show us to a place of shelter nearby? We need to hide from those in  the  High

Tower until we can make our way back to our ship."

Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings. No need for shelter, Jedi Sky  Walker,

he said.

We will carry you to your flying machine, as my son  and  his  companions

did earlier this night.

Luke frowned. After Hunter Of Winds's quick and cavalier dismissal of him

and his mission when he  and  Artoo  first  landed,  such  magnanimity  seemed

suspiciously out of character. "You're very kind," he said carefully.  "May  I

ask why you're willing to take such risks for us?"

Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings. I have spoken  to  the  Bargainer  for

this nesting of the Qom Jha, he said. Eater Of Fire  Creepers  has  agreed  to

release you from your promise to help us against the Threateners, provided you

leave our world at once.

Luke felt his face warming. "In other words, our presence here has become

a liability to you?"

Child Of Winds has said the Threateners will not harm us  if  we  do  not

bother them, Hunter Of Winds said gruffly. It is to that end that we wish  you

to leave.

"Nothing like being appreciated, is there?" Mara muttered.

"It's all right," Luke said, touching her hand and her mind soothingly.

Reminding her that, embarrassment and even veiled insult aside, this  was

in fact the result she herself had said she wanted. Parck and the Chiss  would

now be left alone, unharassed by the Qom Jha and Qom Qae, and  free  to  focus

their full energies on their work in the Unknown Regions.

"Fine," she said, and Luke could feel her grudging acceptance. "But  he's

not Child Of Winds anymore. After what he's been through, he deserves to  have

a name of his own."

Really, Hunter Of Winds said, giving her a  long,  thoughtful  look.  And

what name do you suggest for him?

"The one he's earned," she said softly. " 'Friend Of Jedi.' "

Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings again. I will consider it. But now, let

us depart. The night grows old, and you  will  wish  to  be  gone  before  the

sunrise.

* * *

"I'll look forward to it," Flim was saying as Karrde rounded the  archway

onto the Relentless's bridge.

"Yes," Pellaeon said. "So will I."

The Admiral turned as  Karrde  stepped  up  beside  him.  "You're  late,"

Pellaeon said mildly.

"I was watching the turbolift," Karrde explained. "I thought Flim and his

associates might try to bring a squad of stormtroopers in on their side of the

dispute."

"They might have, at that," Pellaeon said. "Thank you."

"No problem," Karrde assured him, looking around the  bridge.  The  Major

Tierce clone was lying unmoving on the deck, Shada was across with  the  other

two Mistryl, the con man Flim was waiting with studied unconcern just back  of

the command walkway, and Moff Disra was a little off to one side, standing  as

aloof and cold and dignified as a man facing his own destruction could manage.

"Besides, it doesn't look like my presence was really needed."

"Not for this part, no," Pellaeon agreed. "Your  friend  Shada  is  quite

impressive.

I don't suppose she'd be interested in a job."

"Well, she is looking for a higher cause  to  serve,"  Karrde  told  him.

"However, to be perfectly honest, I don't think the Empire is it."

Pellaeon nodded. "Perhaps we can change that."

"Admiral Pellaeon?" a voice called from the crew pits.  "I  have  General

Bel Iblis for you now."

"Thank you." Pellaeon looked to Karrde. "Don't run off?I'll want to speak

with you later."

"Certainly."

The Admiral headed down the  command  walkway,  passing  Flim  without  a

second glance. Throwing one last look at Disra, Karrde crossed to where  Shada

and the other young  Mistryl  were  helping  the  older  woman  to  a  sitting

position. "How is she?" he asked.

"Not as bad as  we  thought,"  Shada  said,  probing  gingerly  into  the

scorched tunic.

"She was able to twist almost out of the way of the shot."

"Well-honed reflexes." Karrde nodded. "Once a Mistryl, always a  Mistryl,

I suppose."

The older woman eyed him balefully.  "You're  very  well  informed,"  she

growled.

"About a great many things," Karrde agreed calmly. "Among them  the  fact

that Shada seems to have earned your displeasure somehow."

"And  what,  you  think  this  makes  up  for  it?"  the  woman   snapped

contemptuously.

"Doesn't it?" Karrde countered. "If she hadn't stopped  Tierce  when  she

did, you two would have been the next to die after Pellaeon. You were the most

immediate threats to him."

She snorted. "I'm a Mistryl, Talon Karrde. My life is gladly given in the

service of my people."

"Really." Karrde looked at the younger woman. "Do you also consider  your

life not worth a little gratitude?"

"Leave Karoly out of this," the older woman bit out. "She has nothing  to

say on the matter."

"Ah," Karrde said. "Soldiers with no voice or opinion. Remarkably similar

to the philosophy of the Imperial stormtroopers."

"Karoly allowed Shada to escape once before," the woman  said,  glowering

at her.

"She's fortunate she wasn't punished herself for that."

"Oh, yes," Karrde murmured. "How very lucky for her."

The woman's eyes flashed. "If you've quite finished?"

"I haven't," Karrde said. "Clearly,  you  don't  consider  Mistryl  lives

worth anything. What about Mistryl reputations?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Karrde waved toward Flim. "You were about to make an alliance with  these

people.

You were about to be taken in by nothing more than  slick  talk,  whipped

air, and a dirt-level fringe con man. And don't bother denying it; a member of

the Eleven doesn't travel off Emberlene just for the exercise."

The woman's eyes drifted away from his gaze. "The issue was  still  under

discussion," she muttered.

"Glad to hear it," Karrde said. "Because if even your reputation  doesn't

matter to you, consider what binding the Mistryl to a vengeful man  like  Moff

Disra would have meant. How long do you think it would have  been  before  you

became his private Death Commandos?"

"That would never have happened," Karoly put in emphatically.  "We  would

never sink that low, not even under a treaty."

Shada stirred. "What was it you tried  to  stop  me  from  doing  on  the

Resinem Complex roof?" she asked quietly.

"That was different," Karoly protested.

Shada shook her head. "No. Condoning and cooperating with  murder  is  no

different from committing it yourself."

"She's right," Karrde said. "And once you  started  down  that  road,  it

would have meant the end of the Mistryl. You'd  have  burned  your  sky-arches

behind you with every other potential client;  and  when  Flim's  soap  bubble

collapsed, as it inevitably would have, there would have been nothing left out

there anymore for you.

"And with the end  of  the  Mistryl  would  have  come  a  final  end  to

Emberlene."

He crossed his arms and waited... and after a few seconds the older woman

grimaced. "What is it you want?"

"I want the Mistryl hunter teams called off Shada,"  he  said.  "Whatever

her alleged crime against you, it's to be forgiven and the death mark lifted."

The woman's mouth twisted. "You ask much."

"We've given much," Karrde reminded her. "Is it a deal?"

She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well. But she will  not  be

reinstated into the Mistryl; not now, not ever. And Emberlene will forever  be

closed to her."

She turned burning eyes up at Shada. "From now on she is a woman  without

a home."

Karrde looked at Shada. Her face was  tight,  her  lips  pressed  tightly

together.

But she returned his look steadily and nodded. "Fine,"  he  said.  "We'll

just have to see about finding her a new home."

"With  you?"  The  woman  snorted.  "With  a  smuggler  and   seller   of

information? Tell me again how low a Mistryl can sink."

There was no answer to that. But fortunately, Karrde didn't have to  come

up with one. There was a sudden bustling at his side, and then he  was  gently

but firmly shouldered away by the medical team as  they  gathered  around  the

injured woman.

He stepped back out of their way, shifting his attention to the  security

team that had arrived at the same  time.  With  professional  efficiency  they

scanned Flim and Disra for hidden weapons, put restraints on  them  both,  and

escorted them back to the aft bridge turbolift.

Another group, following behind them, was carrying Tierce's body.

"Karrde?"

He turned to see Pellaeon walking back along the command  walkway  toward

him. "I have to go across to the Errant Venture and  speak  with  General  Bel

Iblis," the Admiral said as he reached him. "But before  I  go,  I  wanted  to

discuss the price for the Flim and Tierce information you brought me."

Karrde shrugged. "For once in my life, Admiral, I'm not sure what to say,

" he admitted. "The datacard was a gift to me. It seems  a  bit  dishonest  to

turn around and charge you for it."

"Ah." Pellaeon eyed him speculatively. "A gift from  those  aliens  whose

ship scared the stuffing out of my sensor officers at Bastion?"

"From an associate of theirs," Karrde said. "I'm really not at liberty to

discuss the details."

"I understand," Pellaeon said. "Still, your  ethics  apart?which  I  find

laudable, incidentally?I'd like to find a way to thank you with something more

concrete than just words."

"I'll see what I can come up  with."  Karrde  gestured  toward  the  Star

Destroyer visible out the viewport. "In the meantime, may I  ask  what  you're

going over to discuss with General Bel Iblis?"

Pellaeon's eyes narrowed slightly. But  then  he  shrugged.  "It's  still

highly confidential, of course," he said. "But knowing  you,  you'll  probably

know about it soon enough, anyway. I'm proposing a peace  treaty  between  the

Empire and the New Republic. It's time for this long war to finally end."

Karrde shook his head. "The things that happen when I'm out of  touch  at

the edges of known space," he said philosophically. "For whatever it's  worth,

Admiral, I agree wholeheartedly with your goal. And I wish you luck."

"Thank you," Pellaeon said. "Feel free to leave  whenever  you  wish,  or

allow your crew to take advantage of any of  the  Relentless's  facilities  if

they'd like. And again, thank you."

He headed off toward the turbolift. Karrde watched him  go,  then  looked

back at Shada. The medical team had finished their preliminary work  and  were

helping the injured woman onto a stretcher. Shada was watching them from a few

paces away, an expression of private pain on her face. Like  someone  watching

the last member of her family leaving home.

And then, unbidden, an idea drifted into Karrde's mind. Something  larger

than herself, she'd told Car'das. Something she could hold on to and serve and

believe in. Something more honorable and noble  than  the  life  of  a  fringe

smuggler.

Something that would make a difference...

"Admiral Pellaeon?" he called, hurrying back to the aft bridge. "Admiral?

"

Pellaeon had paused at the open door of the turbolift. "Yes?"

"Let me ride over with you to the Errant Venture, if I may," Karrde said,

stepping to his side. "I have a modest proposal I'd like to make to you."

* * *

Luke's final fear was that the Hand of Thrawn's weapons towers would spot

them as they lifted their borrowed ship out of its hiding place, forcing their

departure from the Nirauan surface to be yet another mad race  against  death.

But the Chiss were apparently still dealing with the aftermath of  the  hangar

destruction, with no attention left to turn outward.

And so they lifted out into space  without  challenge;  and  with  Mara's

touch on the hyperdrive lever the stars became starlines and  faded  into  the

mottling of hyperspace.

And at long last, they were on their way home.

"Next stop, Coruscant," Luke said with a sigh, leaning  back  tiredly  in

the copilot's seat.

"Next stop, the nearest New Republic base or one of  Karrde's  outposts,"

Mara corrected. "I don't know about you, but  I  want  a  shower,  some  clean

clothes, and something besides ration bars to eat."

"Point taken," Luke said. "You always were  the  practical  one,  weren't

you?"

"And you always were the idealistic one," she said. "Must be why we  work

so well together. Speaking of practical, remember back in the cloning  chamber

when Artoo went all squeaky?"

"You mean just before the sentinel droids showed up?"

"Right. We never did find out what was tying him in knots that way."

"Well, let's find out now," Luke said, levering himself out of  his  seat

and making his way back to the droid alcove where they'd  plugged  Artoo  into

the ship's computer. "Okay, Artoo, you heard the lady. What was it  about  the

Unknown Regions data that got you all excited?"

Artoo warbled, his words appearing on the computer display. "He  says  it

didn't have anything to do with the Unknown Regions," Luke reported. "Which he

says he didn't get more than a general overview of, by the way."

"I didn't think he'd gotten very much," Mara said regretfully. "He wasn't

connected to the computer nearly long enough to download everything."

"Well, we're sure not going to go back and get the rest now," Luke  said,

skimming down the scrolling words. "But there was something he stumbled across

in one of the other records..."

Mara must have picked up his  sudden  shock.  "What  is  it?"  she  asked

sharply.

"I don't believe it," he murmured, still reading. "Mara, he found it.  He

found it."

"Wonderful. Found what?"

"What else?" Luke  looked  up  at  her.  "Thrawn's  copy  of  the  Caamas

Document."

CHAPTER

43

Fifteen days later, in the secondary command room of  the  Imperial  Star

Destroyer Chimaera, the peace accords between the Empire and New Republic were

signed.

"I still say you should have been the one over there," Han groused as  he

and Leia watched from the  back  of  the  room  while  Pellaeon  and  Gavrisom

performed the ceremony amid the crowd of assembled dignitaries. "You  did  way

more on this than he did."

"It's all right, Han," Leia said, surreptitiously wiping a tear from  the

corner of her eye. Peace. After all the years, after  all  the  sacrifice  and

destruction and death. Finally, they had peace.

"Yeah?" Han countered suspiciously. "Then how come you're crying?"

She smiled at him. "Memories," she said. "Just memories."

He found her hand, took it comfortingly. "Alderaan?" he asked quietly.

"Alderaan, the Death Stars?" She squeezed his hand. "You."

"Nice to know I'm in the top three, anyway," he said, looking around  the

room. "Speaking of old memories, where's Lando? I thought he was going  to  be

here."

"He changed his mind," Leia said. "I guess Tendra wasn't very happy  with

him heading out to Bastion with you without at least  telling  her  about  it.

He's taken her art shopping on Celanon to make it up to her."

Han shook his head. "Strong women," he said, mock sadly. "They'll get you

every time."

"Watch that," Leia warned, digging  her  elbow  into  his  side.  "You've

always liked strong women. Admit it."

"Well, not always," Han said. "Ow?okay, okay. I like strong women."

"What's this about strong women?" Karrde's voice asked from  Han's  other

side.

"Just a friendly family discussion," Han assured him. "Good  to  see  you

again, Karrde. How come you're not over there with the rest of the  high-class

people?"

"Probably the same reason you're not," Karrde said. "I don't exactly  fit

in with that sort of group."

"That'll change soon," Leia assured him. "Particularly  now  that  you're

respectable and all. How in the worlds did you talk  Gavrisom  and  Bel  Iblis

into this joint Intelligence service idea?"

"The same way I talked Pellaeon  into  it,  actually,"  Karrde  said.  "I

simply pointed out that the key to a stable  and  calm  peace  is  both  sides

knowing the other isn't plotting some  kind  of  move  against  them.  Bastion

doesn't trust your Intelligence  network,  and  Coruscant  definitely  doesn't

trust theirs."

He shrugged. "Enter a neutral third party?us?who  straddle  both  regimes

and are already equipped to gather and assemble information. We'll simply  now

be supplying it to your two governments instead of to private buyers."

"It could work, I suppose," Han agreed cautiously. "The Bureau  of  Ships

and  Services  has  been  operating  independently  for  years  without  going

political, either under the Empire or the New Republic. You might be  able  to

pull it off."

"I like the fact we'll be getting the  same  information  about  our  own

systems that you'll be giving Bastion," Leia said. "It'll supplement the  data

the Observers are sending us and help us keep track of what the various system

and sector governments are up to. That should help  us  spot  problems  before

they get too big to deal with."

"Yeah," Han said darkly. "Just because the Caamas Document Luke and  Mara

brought back slowed down a lot of the brush wars doesn't mean they won't start

up again."

"Still, I suspect  that  seeing  how  easily  their  old  rivalries  were

manipulated by Disra and Flim has made them more cautious," Leia pointed  out.

"I know of at least eight conflicts where the participants have now petitioned

Coruscant for mediation."

"It may also depend somewhat on how the trial goes," Karrde said. "I  was

a bit surprised so many of the culprits are still alive."

"Bothans tend to be long-lived," Leia  said.  "I'm  sure  that  group  is

regretting that fact."

Across the room, Leia could see Bel Iblis and Ghent talking with Pellaeon

now, Ghent looking extremely uncomfortable at his inclusion into  such?to  his

mind?exalted company. A little ways behind them, Chewbacca was riding  patient

herd on Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin as the children chattered excitedly  away  to

Barkhimkh and two other Noghri about their adventures on this latest visit  to

Kashyyyk. "Did Luke tell you where he found that copy of the document, by  the

way?" Karrde asked. "I couldn't get anything out of Mara."

"No, he and Mara have both been very quiet about it,"  Leia  said.  "Luke

said they have some thinking to do before they give us any  details.  It  most

certainly has to do with that odd spaceship they came back in."

"I imagine there's an interesting story behind it all," Karrde suggested.

Leia nodded. "I'm sure we'll hear it eventually."

Han cleared his throat. "Speaking of Luke," he  said,  "and  speaking  of

strong women," he added, throwing Leia a grin, "how's your organization  going

to manage without Mara?"

"We'll have some problems," Karrde conceded. "She was running a good deal

of the organization, after all. But we'll adjust."

"Besides, he's got someone new to take her place," Leia  couldn't  resist

adding.

"Shada's officially joined him?had you heard that?"

"Yeah, I did," Han said, giving Karrde a highly  speculative  look.  "You

know, I asked you once what it would take to get you to join the New Republic.

Remember?

You asked what it had taken to get me to join up?"

"Yes, I remember," Karrde  cut  him  off,  an  uncharacteristic  note  of

embarrassment coloring his voice. "Kindly bear in mind that I have not  joined

the New Republic.

And my relationship with Shada is nothing like that."

"Neither was mine," Han said smugly, putting his arm around Leia. "That's

okay.

Give it time."

"It's not going to happen," Karrde insisted.

"Yeah," Han said. "I know."

* * *

On  the  ship's  layout  map,  the  room  was  called  a  forward  visual

triangulation site, for use in line-of-sight weapons targeting  if  any  enemy

managed to knock out the main sensor array.

But for tonight, at least, it had become a private observation gallery.

Mara leaned against the cool transparisteel viewport, gazing out  at  the

stars.

Wondering at the right-angle turn her life had just taken.

"You realize, of course," Luke commented as he came up  behind  her  with

their drinks, "that they're all probably wondering where we are."

"Let them wonder," Mara said, sniffing the air  appreciatively  over  the

mug he handed her. The courtiers of Palpatine's court had always  been  openly

contemptuous of hot chocolate, considering it beneath  the  dignity  of  elite

such as themselves. Karrde and his people, like the good smugglers they  were,

had turned up their noses at all nonalcoholic drinks in general.

But the drink fit perfectly with Luke's farm boy past. It gave her a warm

feeling, evoking a  sense  of  comfort  and  stability  and  security.  Simple

necessities, which she'd missed so much throughout most of her life.

She took a sip. And besides that, the stuff just plain tasted good.

"Has Leia talked to you about the wedding?" Luke asked, sipping from  his

own mug as he leaned against the viewport facing her.

"Not yet," Mara said, making a face. "I suppose she's going to want  some

big blowout High Alderaanian ceremony."

Luke grinned. "Wants, probably. Expects, no."

"Good," Mara said. "I'd rather  have  something  quiet  and  private  and

dignified.

Mostly dignified, anyway," she amended. "With New Republic dignitaries on

one side and Karrde's smugglers on the other, we'll probably  need  a  weapons

check at the door."

Luke chuckled. "We'll figure something out."

She eyed him over the rim of her mug. "Speaking of figuring  things  out,

have you decided what you're going to do about the academy?"

He turned his head to gaze out the viewport. "I can't  just  abandon  the

students I have there," he said. "That much I know. I  was  thinking  maybe  I

could slowly turn it into?oh,  call  it  a  pre-Jedi  school.  A  place  where

beginning students can get the basics, maybe learning from older students, and

do a little practicing among themselves. Once they've passed that  stage,  you

and I and other instructors can complete  their  training.  Maybe  in  a  more

personal one-on-one arrangement, the way Ben and Master Yoda trained me."

He looked back at her.  "Assuming  you  want  to  be  involved  with  the

training at all, that is."

She shrugged.  "I'm  not  completely  comfortable  with  the  idea,"  she

admitted. "But I am a Jedi now?at least, I assume I am?and until we can  swell

the ranks of instructors I suppose teaching is going to be part  of  my  job."

She considered. "At least, it will be once I've got a little more training  of

my own under my belt."

"Private training, of course?"

"I should hope so," she said. "Before I can do that,  though,  I'll  need

time  to  gracefully  disengage   from   Karrde's   organization.   I've   got

responsibilities I have to transfer over to other people, and I can't just let

them slide." She smiled. "Responsibility and commitment, you know."

There was a flicker in his emotions. "Yes," he murmured.

"Though even when I'm ready to start teaching I don't think I'll want  to

stay on Yavin to do it," she continued, studying him closely. "Maybe  the  two

of us could travel around the New Republic with the  more  advanced  students,

teaching them as we go. That way we'd  be  available  for  emergency  conflict

mediation and conciliation and all the other things Jedi are supposed  to  do,

while at the same time giving the students a taste of real-life situations."

"That would be very useful," Luke said. "I know I could  sure  have  used

some of that myself."

"Good." She regarded him thoughtfully. "Now tell me what's bothering you.

"

"What do  you  mean?"  he  asked  warily,  his  thoughts  closing  in  on

themselves.

"Oh, come on, Luke," she said gently. "I've been  inside  your  head  and

your heart.

You can't keep  secrets  from  me  anymore.  Something  hit  you  when  I

mentioned responsibility and commitment a minute ago. What was it?"

He sighed, and she could sense him give up. "I guess I  still  have  some

lingering doubts about why you'd want to marry me,"  he  said  hesitantly.  "I

mean, I know why I love you and want to marry you. It's just that  it  doesn't

seem like you'll be gaining as much from this as I will."

Mara gazed down at the dark liquid in her mug. "I could  point  out  that

marriage isn't a game of profit and loss," she said. "But I suppose that would

just be deflecting the question."

She took a deep breath. "The fact is, Luke, that until  that  mental  and

emotional melding we had during the battle  in  Thrawn's  cloning  chamber,  I

didn't even know myself what  it  was  I  wanted.  Sure,  I  had  friends  and

associates; but I'd cut myself off  so  completely  from  any  real  emotional

attachments that I didn't even realize how much a part of life was missing."

She shook her head. "I mean, look, I cried when the Jade's Fire  crashed.

A ship?a thing; and  yet  I  cried  over  it.  What  did  that  say  about  my

priorities?"

"It wasn't just a thing, though," Luke murmured. "It was your freedom."

"Sure," Mara said. "But that's part of the point. It represented freedom,

but it was freedom to escape from other people if I decided I wanted out."

She looked out at the stars. "In many  ways,  I'm  still  all  closed  up

emotionally.

You, on the other hand, have such  an  emotional  openness  it  sometimes

drives me crazy. That's what I need to learn; and you're the  one  I  want  to

learn it from."

She moved closer to him and took his hand. "But that's  just  profit  and

loss games again. The simple, bottom-line fact is that this is the right  path

for us.

Like that Qom Jha proverb Builder With Vines quoted at us in the caverns,

the one about many vines woven together being stronger than  the  same  number

used separately. We complement each other perfectly, Luke, all  the  way  down

the line.

In many ways, we're two halves of a single being."

"I know that," he said. "I guess I just wasn't sure you did."

"I know just about everything you do, now," Mara  reminded  him.  "Faughn

was right?we do make a good team. And we can only get better at it. Give us  a

few more years, and enemies of the New Republic will be running for cover like

crazy."

"And those enemies will definitely be there," Luke said, sobering  as  he

turned again to gaze out the  viewport  at  the  distant  stars.  "That's  our

future, Mara?out there in the Unknown Regions. Our hopes and dreams;  promises

and opportunities; dangers and enemies. And for the moment, we're the ones who

hold that key."

Mara nodded, stepping close to his side and putting her arm  around  him.

"We'll have to decide what to do with that overview  Artoo  downloaded.  Maybe

send probe ships out to take a look at some of the worlds Thrawn  had  listed,

just to see what's there."

"Sounds reasonable," Luke said. "Either on our own or under New  Republic

auspices. And we also have to decide what to do about the Hand of Thrawn."

"My vote is that we leave them out of it," Mara  said.  "If  they're  not

interested in talking to us, the last thing we want to do is try to force  the

issue."

"What if Parck decides to talk to Bastion instead?" Luke asked.

Mara shook her head. "I don't think he will. If he hasn't contacted  them

by now, it must mean he's picked up the news reports that the Thrawn  sighting

was a hoax and decided to go back to lying low."

"He could also be plotting how to come after you for what you did to  his

hangar and ships," Luke warned.

"I'm not worried about it," Mara  said.  "The  ships  themselves  he  can

undoubtedly replace, and he ought to be grateful I stopped him from giving the

Hand of Thrawn to Disra and Flim."

She shrugged. "Besides, Fel did tell me to take my best shot."

Luke smiled. "I doubt that was exactly what he had in mind."

"I'm not responsible for what Baron Fel has in mind," Mara reminded  him.

"Seriously, I think if they do anything it'll be to try to recruit me again."

"And, of course, wait for Thrawn to return."

Mara thought about the dead clone floating in the flooded chamber.  "That

could take a while."

"True," Luke said. "Still, I suppose that  even  if  they  get  tired  of

waiting and contact Bastion, we have a  treaty  with  the  Empire  now.  Maybe

ultimately we'll all head out to develop those regions together."

Mara  nodded.  "And  to  face  whatever's  out  there.  That   could   be

interesting."

Luke nodded back, and for a few minutes they stood arm in arm looking out

at the stars. An almost-vision floated before Mara's eyes,  a  vision  of  the

future?their  future?and  of  what  they  would  face  together.   Challenges,

children, friends, enemies, allies, dangers, joys, sorrows?all of  it  swirled

into a sort of living mosaic, fading away into the  distance.  A  vision  like

she'd never seen before.

But then, she'd never been a Jedi before. There were indeed going  to  be

interesting challenges ahead.

"But that's the future," Luke murmured, his breath warm on  the  side  of

her face.

"This is the present."

Mara pulled a little away from him. "And as head of the Jedi academy  and

brother of High Councilor Organa Solo you should at least put in an appearance

at the ceremony?" she suggested.

He gave her a wry look. "Yes, that's just about what I was going to say,"

he acknowledged. "I can see this is going to take some getting used to."

"There's still time for you to back out," she pointed out.

He kissed her warmly. "Not a chance," he said. "I'll see you later."

Setting down his mug, he headed for the door. "Hang on  a  minute,"  Mara

said, stepping away from the viewport and her tantalizingly  brief  vision  of

the future.

As Luke had said, this was the present. The future  would  take  care  of

itself.

"I'll come with you."