The recording began with something they had not seen before—the emblem of the Duskhan League, a double circle of three-pointed stars on a scarlet background. Then Nil Spaar appeared.
This time, however, he had company. Standing beside him was a human wearing the black uniform of an Imperial Moff.
Graf leaned toward Leia. “Behind them—that’s the bridge of a Super-class Star Destroyer.”
She silenced him with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“I address the strong, proud leaders of the vassal worlds of the New Republic,” the viceroy began. “I bring you an announcement, and a warning.
“As I speak, the enormous battle fleet under the command of Princess Leia continues its reckless invasion of Koornacht Cluster—territory that has belonged to the Yevethan people for more than ten thousand years.
“Up until this moment, we have shown great restraint, despite having been attacked in our own home. Against the urging of my military commanders, I have held our own powerful fleet in reserve except where the lives of civilians are in danger. I have done all I can to minimize casualties on both sides. I have given Princess Leia every opportunity to change her course and withdraw her forces.
“I am saddened that she has chosen instead to reinforce them. In recent weeks, she has rejected the wisdom of her advisors and secretly dispatched hundreds more warships to threaten the worlds of the Duskhan League.
“I am saddened, but not surprised. This woman sabotaged a promising negotiation between my people and the New Republic, because peace did not suit her ambitions. She sat across from me and lied about her intentions—and while she lied, her agents spied on us, looking for weakness, planning a war of conquest.
“I know that the good citizens of the New Republic are even now trying to drive this deceiver from your capital. But she has bought many friends on Coruscant, and others have reason to fear her. It will be a bruising fight, though I hope that honor will ultimately prevail.”
“Here comes the good part,” Graf whispered to Ackbar.
“But the Yevethan people can no longer await the outcome,” said Nil Spaar. “We can no longer risk our future on the hope that Princess Leia will find her conscience and leave us in peace. We must protect ourselves. By refusing our offer of friendship, by threatening our very existence, Leia has forced us to seek friends where we otherwise would not have.”
Nil Spaar raised a hand in the direction of the man beside him. “We have invited the Empire to return to Koornacht Cluster as allies—”
“That’s—that’s completely unbelievable,” Leia sputtered. “They despise the Empire.”
“—I have come to you to announce that the Duskhan League and the Grand Imperial Union have concluded a treaty of mutual assistance. Moff Tragg Brathis is commander of the battle fleet now stationed here.”
The uniformed man nodded, Nil Spaar paused, and the holo tracked to the right until the view forward out the bridge viewports confirmed that the vessel was Super-class. For a few seconds, at least half a dozen other Star Destroyers were visible as well, flying in formation over the limb of a dusty yellow planet.
Then Nil Spaar moved in to block the view. “You have seen enough now to understand. If the New Republic does not withdraw from our borders—if the President, whoever that might be, does not swiftly acknowledge our just claim to these stars—the combined strength of the League and the Union stands ready. Your actions will determine the course of the future.”
The display dissolved to a scarlet curtain, with the Duskhan League emblem appearing again before the screen went black.
“Is that the end of it?” Leia asked.
“That’s it.”
She pressed a button on the controller and threw it down on the table. “Does anyone here think this is real?”
“I have Asset Tracking working on the recording,” said Graf. “Nylykerka should be able to tell us if we’ve seen those ships before, during the flash recon.”
“Will he be able to tell us when they got there and who controls them?” asked Rieekan. “Perhaps this pact is real, and was concluded months ago, in secret.”
“Why reveal it now?”
“Why not? Since we already know about the Imperial ships, he has nothing to lose by telling everyone else. And it’s obvious what he hopes to gain.”
“What do you mean, ‘telling everyone else’?” Leia demanded of Rieekan. “Did this go out to the entire system?”
Rieekan raised an eyebrow and looked down the table.
“Yes,” admitted the director of the communications agency. “It appeared in the system in a standard diplomatic packet, with the expected coding. There was no reason for the filters to trap it.”
“Interesting times are ahead,” Ackbar said to himself, shaking his head.
Leia looked disgusted. “Can we at least find out this time where it got into the system?”
“We’re working on it,” the other woman said defensively. “There are more than three hundred thousand authorized entry ports for a low-security channel like Eighty-one.”
“Black box on an enabled hypercomm,” said Rieekan. “That’s all it would take. It doesn’t even have to be on Coruscant.”
“Excuse me,” said Nanaod Engh. Only a few heads turned his way, and he cleared his throat and repeated himself. “Excuse me. This is unimportant. Mere details—trivialities. There is more to this than what happens in this room.”
Leia spun her chair sharply toward him. “Go on.”
“We are not the intended audience for the viceroy’s message,” he said, and gestured expansively with his hands. “They are. That bolt was aimed at the hearts of our citizens.”
“But it is a fraud,” Ackbar insisted. “There is no pact. There is no Moff Brathis, no Grand Union, no Imperial fleet. I am certain of it.”
“And you may well be right,” said Engh. “But that is irrelevant. It doesn’t matter if what we saw is the truth or a lie. It doesn’t matter what we here believe. General Rieekan, what kind of proof could you offer to refute that image—a black-shirt commander standing with Nil Spaar on an Imperial Star Destroyer?”
“Why, there are many ways to attack it. We have experts in—”
“No, General. You cannot refute that image with words.” He looked to Leia. “It does not matter what species they are; people trust what they see. Words alone will not make them believe they were fooled. Out there, they are turning to each other and saying, ‘Well, what do you think we ought to do about this?’ Not ‘Do you think it’s true?’ I don’t know what they will decide they feel. I only know that it is true, for them—the Yevetha have allied with the Empire.”
Engh rocked back in his chair. “I think the President’s image analysts should see this as soon as possible. And I hope you will finally make time to meet with them yourself, Leia. The days ahead will not be shaped by questions and answers, the lore of experts, the reasoned judgment of earnest beings gathered around tables. Cherished belief, powerful emotion, and the image that plays in the mind in the moment before sleep comes—they will write the story of the days ahead.”
Tholatin was uninhabited save for the smugglers’ hideaway known as Esau’s Ridge, nestled in a deep lateral erosion cut at the base of a towering rock face. The cut was a thousand meters long and up to a hundred meters deep, with a maximum of six meters’ clearance in the berthing area under the cantilevered granite ceiling. A warren of smaller artificial tunnels and chambers extended the complex another two hundred meters into the mountain.
It was one of the most private of all the smugglers’ sanctuaries, invisible from orbit and well defended against intruders. Even the three landing clearings in the forest that covered the valley floor were concealed, hidden by retractable military-grade camouflage nets with infrared screens.
It was also one of the most exclusive sanctuaries, open only to the elite veterans of the trade, to the well-connected rather than the well-heeled. Or, at least, it once had been. When the Millennium Falc
on arrived there, Esau’s Ridge was more crowded than Chewbacca could remember ever seeing it. Parking clearances in the landing area were down to half a meter, and the floating berth fees were accordingly high.
[Peace did not seem to have hurt the trade,] he growled to the berthing collector as he paid the first day’s fee.
“When they are not busy fighting wars, governments amuse themselves by forbidding things,” said the collector. “There will always be work for us. Welcome back to the Ridge, Chewbacca. By the way, I threw two of the kids out of here to make room for this trash heap you call a ship.”
Chewbacca paid without complaint the expected bribe for that privilege of seniority. [Is Plothis still here?]
“Shot four years ago in a squabble with a customer. Bracha e’Naso took over the business.”
[What about Formayj and the brokerage?]
“Same old place,” said the collector. “Be sure and look up Armatin the Dread while you’re here—he retired and bought the slava bar. He’ll be glad to see you if you can catch him sober.”
For their own protection, Chewbacca instructed Lumpawarrump and Jowdrrl to stay inside the ship. With Shoran and Dryanta standing guard, the Falcon was as safe as it could be in a port of thieves—but Esau’s Ridge could be as dangerous as the Shadow Forest for the inexperienced.
Chewbacca had come there for information and for specialized supplies. The former proved more costly than the latter, and the latter came dear enough. e’Naso treated Chewbacca like a celebrity, then tried to overcharge him by half, as though he were some star-eyed pupling who’d never run a picket line.
“It’s almost impossible for me to keep these items in stock,” e’Naso protested when Chewbacca growled threateningly. “You’ve seen the berthing line—demand is very high, and replacing my stock will cost me a premium. You want a better price, you get Maniid and the others who run my shipments to take less for their risk.”
Another customer, an old Kiffu male browsing through the catalog of bootleg holos, overheard the conversation and intervened. “Haggling with a Wookiee,” the customer said, shaking his head. “That shows courage, e’Naso—even Plothis wouldn’t have dared it. Have you decided who will inherit the shop?”
Chewbacca showed a toothy grimace, all the more ominous for the hint of a smile it contained.
e’Naso quickly countered his own best offer, cutting the total by twenty percent. When that did not change Chewbacca’s expression, he let the Wookiee name his price.
[And you deliver it all to my ship,] he added.
“Of course. Of course.”
Outside, Chewbacca paid the Kiffu his third of the savings.
Dealing with Formayj was another matter altogether. The long-lived Yao had not only seen all the tricks, he had gotten in early enough to invent several of them. Besides that, Formayj did not haggle. His memories and his connections, both carefully built up over more than a century of brokering, were his stock in trade. He carefully appraised the worth of each before parting with it.
“Koornacht Cluster,” Formayj said, nodding. “Maps, inhabitants, hyperspace routes, ship designs, planetary defenses, sensor grids—very rare. Expensive.”
[I will pay your price.]
“Come back two days. Will know more then.”
So Chewbacca and the others waited, staying close to the Falcon and watching the neighboring ships in the berth line come and go. The arrival of e’Naso’s delivery sled brought a welcome interruption to the waiting, and several hours’ work studying, testing, and stowing the gear took the edge off their impatience. But by the next morning, Lumpawarrump was bouncing off the bulkheads as though the Falcon were a cage.
[How much longer, Father?]
[Long enough for you to take five falls with Jowdrrl in the forward cargo hold.]
[She is busy with the dorsal gun turret again.]
[She is making herself busy—she will make the time if you ask.]
[Could I take some falls with you instead?]
[You already know how to lose—and I must go see other brokers and old friends,] Chewbacca said, ruffling his son’s fur roughly. [Stay here. Study the ship, practice your skills of defense and attack—you will need them soon enough.]
A day of drinking in the slava bar, listening to smugglers’ bragging and tall tales, ground Chewbacca’s own patience thin. When the third fight of the afternoon broke out, he roared to his feet, seized both adversaries, and flung them into opposite corners—for no reason other than that he needed to release the restless tension building up inside.
He returned to Formayj’s brokerage the next morning, but the visit claimed little of his day.
“Difficult,” said Formayj. “Come back two days.”
Two days later, he said the same thing.
On their fifth day in Esau’s Ridge, Chewbacca yielded to Lumpawarrump’s endless pleading looks and took his son into the sanctuary.
The excursion almost ended as quickly as it began, when Lumpawarrump took too close an interest in a parked slaver for the liking of its Trandoshan owner.
“Mind your own business!” the owner shouted from atop the ship. An instant later, a blaster bolt singed the flowing fur on Lumpawarrump’s right shoulder. “Move along!”
Chewbacca seized his son by the scruff and dragged him away toward the tunnels, waving his bowcaster and exchanging threat-growls and insults with the owner as he did so.
[Did you not listen to me? Curiosity is not rewarded on Esau’s Ridge,] he chided Lumpawarrump when they were alone inside. [Watch, but do not be caught looking; listen, but do not be caught overhearing; ask no questions, and question no lies—that is the code honored here.]
Seven days after their arrival, Formayj called Chewbacca to his brokerage. “I show you price first, you decide,” he said.
[You would not cheat me,] Chewbacca said. [Show me what you have.]
The price was almost unspeakably high, but the value was there. A smuggler’s annotated copy of a Yevethan navigational map—six years old, but priceless even so. An even older Imperial autopsy report on three Yevethan corpses. A recording of Nil Spaar’s address to the Senate. A still of a spherical starship with the entryways and gun emplacements overmarked. And the capper: the data and holo files of a New Republic recon pass over Wakiza, complete with an NRI seal.
“So new you can still smell Imperial City on it,” said the broker, pointing. “You like?”
[You are the best, Formayj.]
“Of course. That is why they come here.” Smiling, he took Chewbacca’s payment, then disarmed the erase-bot and other daemons that would otherwise have been unleashed by a trigger in the brokerage door. “Now, the other matter.”
Chewbacca was already rising to leave at that point, and rumbled questioningly.
“You asked all around the Ridge about Han Solo. Did not ask me, as if I did not know he is a prisoner in Koornacht,” said Formayj. “I know where everyone has come from and where everyone is going when they leave. I know why customer wants the information before I sell it to them. At times must even disappoint them because of what I know. You plan a rescue, yes?”
Chewbacca growled his assent.
“You ask where he must be held. Even though you do not come to me, I inquire on my own.” Formayj shook his head. “Discouraging. No one knows. There is no prison. His name is not spoken by any who would know, on Coruscant or N’zoth.” He reached up and handed Chewbacca another holo card. “Perhaps this helps you. Free—my cost nothing.” He gestured toward the viewer. “Go on—see.”
It was a recording of Nil Spaar speaking to the members of the New Republic via Channel 81. Time-stamped forty hours ago, it began, “I address the strong, proud leaders of the vassal worlds—”
Formayj pressed another object on Chewbacca, this one a datacard. “Old Imperial Star Destroyer shield codes, sensor jam frequencies, defensive fire patterns—these are readily at hand. No demand. Historical value only,” he said. “My service charge will cover.”
Standing, Formayj offered his hand. “Still like Han, old trickster. Smuggler made good. Deliver greetings to him, if you see him.”
Chewbacca hurried back to the ship and played the recording for the others. [My honor brother is Nil Spaar’s prize,] he said, and pointed at the blue-black hull of the great starship visible behind the viceroy. [Wherever this enemy is, Han will be.] Then Chewbacca pointed at the planet beyond. [They are there now.]
Twenty minutes later, the Millennium Falcon lifted off from Esau’s Ridge. Immediately on making orbit, it turned toward Koornacht Cluster and jumped into hyperspace, continuing its solitary journey to N’zoth.
Interlude III: Derelict
With Artoo guiding him, Lobot had penetrated deep into a realm the structure and purpose of which he was still struggling to understand.
The vagabond’s core passages were more akin to the great accumulator conduit in which they had spent their first hours aboard the vessel than they were like the network of chambers in which they had spent the last many days. But the core passages were much narrower than the accumulator conduit. Their cross section was never greater than Lobot’s armspan, and often less—especially at the junctions.
And there were many junctions. The passages were cross-connected in a complex web that had not yet revealed its pattern. This web promised to link all parts of the vagabond as a transport or communications system might, but nothing was moving through or along the passages save for Lobot and the droids. None of the ready biological metaphors—vascular tubules, alimentary canals, respiratory ducts, neurological pathways—seemed appropriate.
Lobot wondered if the lack of activity was a symptom of the damage the vagabond had sustained or a sign that he still did not understand the nature of the vessel. He had to keep reminding himself that though the ship was the product of bioengineering, it was not an organism. It was a biological machine, which was still an unfamiliar paradigm.
Three hundred meters in from chamber 228, the passage had narrowed to the point where Lobot found it necessary to shed his contact suit in order to continue.
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