Vision of the Future pt1

Star Wars

Hand of Thrawn Duology

Book 2

Vision of the Future

by Timothy Zahn

updated : 11.XI.2006

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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?"