Thrawn_Alliances_Star Wars

by Timothy Zahn

  “Any idea how long the ship was here?”

  “No,” Thrawn said. “But from the regrowth pattern, I estimate the ship left approximately one week ago.”

  “You’re an expert on Batuu plant life now?” Anakin asked, frowning. That seemed suspiciously convenient.

  “I knew the Nubian ship had been in this area,” Thrawn said calmly, pulling a small flat box from the back of his belt. “I also know that plant life can offer clues. I therefore loaded all the details that were available on this region’s plants into my recorder before leaving my ship.”

  “I see.” Anakin gazed at the ground, clenching his artificial hand tightly. If Thrawn was right, that would put Duja’s departure at just about the time Padmé arrived. Could the two women have gone off together?

  But why hadn’t they contacted him? Or had Padmé tried and the message simply had not made it to Coruscant? Either way, why had Padmé left her ship here in the middle of nowhere instead of in a better-monitored landing field, or even in orbit around the planet? Had Duja found evidence of imminent threat?

  “There are no further answers here,” Thrawn said. “The nearest native outpost is approximately thirty kilometers away.”

  “Black Spire?”

  “Yes,” Thrawn said. “I suggest we travel there and seek information.”

  “Sounds reasonable.” Anakin hesitated. “You said your shuttle had room for two?”

  “It does,” Thrawn said. “There’s a landing area three kilometers west of the outpost. I’ll land there and we can take a ground vehicle the rest of the way.”

  “Okay.” Anakin looked at R2-D2. “Head back to the ship,” he ordered. “Have it ready to fly if we need backup.” He looked back at Thrawn. “Let’s go, Commander.”

  Finally, just over three hours past Faro’s original estimate, the Chimaera reached Batuu.

  Grand Admiral Thrawn, she knew, would recognize the delay as being due to unknown factors and the general uncertainties of travel in inadequately charted territory. Lord Vader, she suspected, would put it down to incompetence, either hers or her crew’s.

  Both assessments rankled.

  “I assume you have a plan, my lord?” Thrawn asked as Vader joined them on the command walkway.

  For a moment the Dark Lord gazed out the forward viewport in silence. Possibly thinking; possibly doing one of those Force things that Faro had never quite believed in and certainly never trusted.

  Especially not from here. Thrawn had ordered the Chimaera to come out of lightspeed at a healthy distance from the planet, and as a result Batuu was a barely visible dot glinting in the light from the even more distant sun.

  Mentally, she shook her head. Vader could talk all he wanted about how the Emperor could sense things all the way back at Coruscant, but Faro wasn’t buying any of it. In her opinion, it was overblown rhetoric masking private information sources or simple deductions.

  “The disturbance we seek is on the surface,” Vader said. “Commodore Faro, prepare to take us to orbit.”

  Thrawn’s hand moved at his side, subtly belaying the order. “If I may suggest, my lord,” he said, “there may be hostile beings down there. If so, the arrival of a Star Destroyer may be counterproductive.”

  “It will show them the power of the Empire,” Vader rumbled.

  “It may also drive them underground,” Thrawn pointed out.

  “You fear the effort that would be needed to extract them?”

  “I note that the effort would be time consuming,” Thrawn said. “Our orders were to proceed at all due speed.” He gestured toward the planet. “Besides, it is often wise to conceal one’s full capabilities from potential enemies.”

  For a long moment, the two faced each other in silence. Thrawn’s expression was calm and respectful; Vader’s was as always invisible behind his mask. “What then do you suggest?” the Dark Lord asked at last.

  “You and I go alone,” Thrawn said. “I have a small freighter that will allow us anonymity. We can land—”

  “Anonymity?” Vader interrupted scornfully. “Do you truly believe I can travel anywhere in the Empire without being recognized?”

  “Anywhere in the Empire, no,” Thrawn said, his expression still calm. “But this edge of the Outer Rim is Imperial in name only. There is every chance you can pass unknown among the people down there.”

  For another, even longer moment, there was silence. Faro held her breath, aware that Commander Kimmund had entered the bridge and was striding toward them, his white armor in gleaming contrast with the darker hues of the naval uniforms around him. Vader had made his disdain for Thrawn abundantly clear throughout the voyage, hinting at the Atollon failure every chance he got.

  In fact, among Faro’s fellow officers, there was quiet speculation that Vader would at some point simply declare himself the Chimaera’s master, no matter what navy protocol said. If that ever happened, having Kimmund on the bridge would certainly make the takeover easier to enforce.

  Was that why Kimmund was here? Was this the moment that was going to happen?

  To Faro’s relief, Vader merely inclined his head. “Very well,” he said. “Commodore Faro, prepare Admiral Thrawn’s freighter.”

  “At once, my lord,” Faro said, pushing back her fears and relief as she pulled out her comlink. Senior Lieutenant Xoxtin had been extra prickly ever since the two of them had had their little talk, and it would save trouble all around if the commodore gave the order directly.

  But at least the tension between Thrawn and Vader had subsided. For the moment.

  “Commander Kimmund?” Vader called.

  “My lord?” Kimmund responded briskly, taking a last step to Vader’s side and coming to attention.

  “You will go to the hangar deck and supervise the preparation of Admiral Thrawn’s transport,” Vader ordered.

  “Yes, my lord,” Kimmund said. “How large a group do you wish to accompany you?”

  Again, the black helmet turned to Thrawn, the invisible face behind it seeming to measure him. “None,” he told Kimmund. “The admiral and I will go alone.”

  “Alone?” a gravelly voice came from behind Faro.

  Despite her best efforts, Faro started. Damn that Rukh, anyway. Thrawn had already given him free run of the ship—why did he insist on using that damn invisibility gadget of his?

  “Alone,” Thrawn confirmed, not reacting at all to Rukh’s sudden appearance. Maybe Chiss eyes could penetrate the disguise better than human ones.

  Or maybe Rukh was here because Kimmund was here. Maybe Thrawn had ordered the Noghri to keep an eye on the First Legion’s commander.

  Kimmund, she’d heard, was openly rooting for the Noghri to burn out his personal cloaking device with overuse. Faro was tending toward agreement on that one.

  “Perhaps you do not believe your master and I can travel to a primitive village without your protection?” Vader demanded. He hadn’t reacted to Rukh’s sudden appearance, either.

  Rukh growled something in his native language. “Unknown situations are exactly when the grand admiral needs me the most.”

  “We go alone,” Thrawn said, his tone making it clear the discussion was over. “If you wish, you may accompany Commander Kimmund to the hangar bay and observe the preparations.”

  Rukh turned his glare on Kimmund. Not that Kimmund probably cared. “It will be done, Grand Admiral,” the Noghri said. “I will watch very closely.”

  “Then, with your permission, my lord,” Thrawn said, “I will go to my cabin and prepare.”

  “I will await you in the hangar.” Vader gestured toward him. “I trust you will not be wearing your uniform?”

  “That is indeed the preparation I spoke of,” Thrawn confirmed. “Even if the locals do not recognize the uniform of an Imperial grand admiral, they will nevertheless recognize that it is a un
iform.”

  “Very well. Do not be long.”

  “With all due speed, my lord,” Thrawn promised.

  He turned to Faro. “While we are gone, you will rig the Chimaera for darkness and stealth,” he ordered. “Keep a sharp watch, passive sensors only.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Faro said.

  With a final look at Rukh, Thrawn turned and walked back down the command walkway. Kimmund waited until he’d passed, then also turned, following the admiral at two steps’ distance. Rukh slipped past Faro, eyed Vader measuringly as he passed, and started to follow the stormtrooper.

  “Rukh?” Faro called.

  The Noghri paused and looked back. “Commodore?”

  “I want you to watch the freighter prep work very closely,” Faro said. “And make sure Lieutenant Xoxtin knows you’re watching.”

  A malicious smile briefly crossed Rukh’s craggy face. “She will know, Commodore,” he promised. “Most certainly.”

  * * *

  —

  The freighter was of a type Vader hadn’t seen before. Still, the controls were in the proper places and the handling was smooth enough.

  It was Thrawn’s ship, and standard protocol was that the admiral would fly it. Vader hadn’t bothered to ask before taking the pilot’s seat. Thrawn, for his part, had had the good sense not to argue the point.

  Black Spire hadn’t changed much since The Jedi had last been there, Vader noted as he brought the freighter in toward the landing field nestled into the forest three kilometers west of the settlement. The trading post with the attached cantina dominated the center of town, pressing up against the edge of the ruins of the ancient civilization that had once stood here. Some of the homes and businesses had been built into those ruins, though most were freestanding buildings. The petrified remains of the giant black trees that had given the outpost its name towered over everything, mysterious and brooding. The house directly behind the trading post, where the owner lived, stood out from the rest with evidence of real money.

  “Those are new,” Thrawn murmured.

  “What?” Vader asked.

  “Those houses,” Thrawn said, pointing at a wooded area on the eastern side of the outpost, the side opposite the landing field, about three kilometers away from the edge of town. “They were not there the last time.”

  Vader studied the houses. There were three of them, larger and better built than those in the town, hemmed in by the woods around them. Each house was surrounded by a small ring of garden space, which on some of the galaxy’s most prestigious city-worlds would be evidence of the owner’s wealth or leisure.

  Here in the Outer Rim, though, a garden might simply be a frugal person’s attempt to stretch uneven finances by growing some of his own food. “I wonder why they chose to build amid the trees when other, more easily cleared ground surrounds the outpost,” the Chiss continued.

  “Does it matter?” Vader asked. So far he wasn’t sensing the disturbance in the Force that the Emperor had spoken of. Did that mean whatever it was had left Batuu?

  He hoped not. Every minute he stayed out here was a minute in which the rebels were free to plot and prepare and attack.

  “I suspect it is for purposes of concealment,” Thrawn said. “Do you note the additions to that stone tree?”

  Vader shifted his attention to the petrified tree remnant Thrawn had tagged on the display. At first glance it looked like all the others, but as a scanner overlay appeared he saw the complex electronics that had been invisibly woven into the stone bark and along the branches. “I believe it is part of a communications triad,” Thrawn continued. “It is a system for sending signals over long distances throughout the Unknown Regions.”

  Vader eyed the display, a whisper of interest tugging at him despite himself. Though unlikely to have a direct bearing on their search, it echoed back to The Jedi’s memories of his time here. “The term triad suggests there are two other poles.”

  “Indeed,” Thrawn said. “The likely position of the first is in one of the new houses.”

  Vader looked at the main display. Assuming the triad’s poles formed an equilateral triangle…“The ship at the far end of the landing area will be the other,” he said. “Faded gray paint and a broken landing skid.”

  “An abandoned derelict, clearly of no use to anyone,” Thrawn said. “A perfect hiding place.”

  Vader eyed the six other light freighters jammed together in the cramped space. “For a planet that is supposed to host few visitors, there are an unusual number of waiting ships.”

  “I agree,” Thrawn said. “Interesting. Unfortunately, it leaves us no room.”

  Vader pursed his lips. Only two spots were still available: one at the outpost end of the field, the other right beside the derelict ship. Both would be tight for a vessel their size, but he could do it. “I can land us there,” he said.

  “There is insufficient space,” Thrawn insisted.

  “The space is sufficient for a pilot of sufficient skill.”

  For a moment Thrawn remained silent. Vader could feel the flow of his thoughts and emotions, the orderly mix of what seemed to be calculation and caution. There might have been some annoyance, as well, but the Chiss’s mind was still maddeningly closed to Vader’s understanding. “You are certain you can land without mishap?”

  In answer, Vader swung the freighter’s nose toward the landing area. The sooner they searched the outpost and found the source of the Emperor’s disturbance, the sooner they would be done with this place.

  “What about our goal?” Thrawn asked. “Have you been able to gather any further information?”

  Vader glared out the viewport. For someone with no Force sensitivity, Thrawn had a disconcerting knack for reading or anticipating people’s thoughts. “Nothing of significance,” he said. “The disturbance feels distant, yet somehow also close at hand.”

  “As if attempting to conceal itself?”

  “Perhaps,” Vader said, stretching out to the Force again. The disturbance…there it was.

  But it was flickering, barely there. The thought of the Emperor picking up something this weak all the way from Coruscant bordered on the unbelievable. Yet somehow, he’d done it.

  “We shall soon know,” Thrawn said. “Perhaps a closer investigation will reveal the truth.”

  * * *

  —

  “We think they dropped from lightspeed about fifteen minutes ago,” Sensor Officer Hammerly said, pointing at the overlay she’d sent to the Chimaera’s tactical display. “It wasn’t until they turned toward Batuu that we were able to pick up their drive emissions on passive sensors.”

  Faro gazed at the display, stroking her lip gently. For a system that wasn’t supposed to get much traffic, Batuu certainly seemed popular today. Counting the six ships on the ground that Admiral Thrawn’s tight-beam transmission had mentioned, this new set of four made ten. “Maybe they’re having a party down there,” she said. “What else do you have on the newcomers?”

  “Not much,” Hammerly admitted. “We can’t get configuration or markings at this distance, not on passive sensors. If they’re running ID beacons, they’re too weak to pick up out of the noise.”

  Faro looked at the sensor displays, found the line that indicated the background electromagnetic radiation level. It wasn’t unusually high for a star of this magnitude and spectrum; the Chimaera was just too far out. “Did you do an emission/acceleration profile?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hammerly said. “They read as small freighters. But of course, they could also be small warships running at low power. They’re flying in loose formation, so they’re definitely together. Near as we can tell from their current vector, they seem to be aiming for the same general area where Admiral Thrawn and Lord Vader landed.”

  Faro nodded. Before Thrawn and Vader left, the admiral had made it clear th
at Faro wasn’t to signal him except in an extreme emergency, given that a transmission would betray the Chimaera’s presence to anyone listening in. And if these ships were just more merchants joining the sales event the admiral had suggested might be happening, it hardly qualified as an emergency.

  But if they were warships…

  “Contact!” the officer at the secondary sensor station snapped. “Straight ahead; distance four hundred thousand kilometers. Two ships.”

  “On it,” Hammerly said coolly, swiveling back to her board. “Two ships—similar sizes; long-range heavy freighters at the least—bearing straight toward Batuu.”

  “Where did they come from?” Faro asked. It was way too soon to figure the ships’ vector, but since everyone seemed to end up at Black Spire, it seemed reasonable to assume the newcomers were going there, too.

  “Straight over our shoulder, looks like,” Hammerly said. “Down the hyperlane we came in on, I’m guessing.”

  “Only they’re in more of a hurry to reach the planet than we were,” Faro said. “Stayed in hyperspace a little longer and came out up there instead of back here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Hammerly looked furtively up at her. “Orders, Commodore?”

  Translation: Was Faro going to decide this qualified as an emergency and take the risk of contacting the admiral?

  Faro looked back at the tactical. The estimated landing for the four small ships was twenty minutes, assuming they were heading for Black Spire. At the larger newcomers’ current acceleration profile, again assuming a planetside rendezvous, they would be fifteen minutes behind the original foursome.

  Or possibly not. There were now indications that the large freighters might be splitting up, one heading for orbit while the other headed for the surface.

  Could that change be because Thrawn’s freighter was sitting in their planned landing spot? In which case, could someone down there be annoyed enough to start shooting?