by Timothy Zahn
"This is hardly the temporary home I'd envisioned for them," Thrass went on, as if talking to himself "It's likely to be far more permanent than I had hoped, too."
"Your people will come here someday," Lorana assured him, wondering why she was saying that. Wishful thinking? Or more prompting from the Force? "Until then, they have enough food and supplies to last for generations. They'll survive. I know they will."
"Then let us prepare for the end." Thrass hesitated, then reached out his hand to her. "I've known you and your people only briefly, Jedi Lorana Jinzler. But in that time, I've learned to admire and respect you. I hope that someday humans and Chiss will be able to work side by side in peace."
"As do I, Syndic Mitth'ras'safis of the Eighth Ruling Family," Lorana said, taking his hand.
For a minute they stood silently, their hands clasped, each preparing for death. Then, taking a deep breath, Thrass released her hand. "Then let us bring this part of history to a close," he said briskly. "May warriors' fortune smile on our efforts."
"Yes," Lorana said. "And may the Force be with us." She gestured downward toward D-4. "And with them."
"As you can see, we have left your ship and equipment undisturbed," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, gesturing as he led Doriana and Kav through the Darkvenge's bridge toward Kav's command office. "I know certain of you were concerned about that," he added, looking over his shoulder at Kav.
The Neimoidian didn't reply. "At any rate, I imagine you're looking forward to returning home," Mitth'raw'nuruodo continued as they walked into the office. "There are just one or two points I need to clear up before you leave."
"Of course," Doriana said, taking a hasty step to the side as Kav pushed past him, brushed by Mitth'raw'nuruodo, and circled the desk to drop rather defiantly into his ornate chair. "We'll do whatever's necessary," he added as he took a chair at one corner of the desk.
"Thank you," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, sitting down in a chair at the other corner and gazing across the edge of the desk at Doriana. "Basically, I believe we both wish to make certain that this one contact between our peoples remains the last."
"I don't understand," Doriana said, forcing puzzlement into his voice. "Our relationship thus far has proved mutually beneficial. Why wouldn't we want it to continue?"
"Come now, Commander," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said mildly. "My side of the arrangement is already secure, of course. You have no idea where my base is, or where the worlds of the Chiss Ascendancy lie. We can remain hidden from you as long as we wish." He paused. "It therefore remains only for you to ensure to your own satisfaction that I will never bring news to the Republic of your betrayal of Outbound Flight."
Doriana stared at him, a cold hand closing around his heart. Did Mitth'raw'nuruodo know about his conversations with Kav?
Had he or one of the other Chiss seen Kav pass him that holdout blaster?
Or had he merely deduced that Doriana would decide to murder him?
Slowly, almost unwillingly, his hand crept toward the hidden blaster, the movement blocked from Mitth'raw'nuruodo's view by the edge of the desk. Certainly it made sense to cover his tracks this way, he reminded himself firmly. Loose ends could be fatal to someone living his kind of double life. Sidious would insist on it, as well, especially given that Mitth'raw'nuruodo had seen the Sith Lord and heard his name.
And after helping to bring about the deaths of fifty thousand people on Outbound Flight, one more death certainly couldn't matter.
Mitth'raw'nuruodo was still waiting, watching him silently. Doriana closed his hand around the grip of his blaster .. .
And paused. Mitth'raw'nuruodo, brilliant tactician. Equally brilliant strategist. A being who could take on Republic warships, nomadic pirates, and even Jedi, and win against them all.
And Doriana was actually considering killing him?
"What are you waiting for?" Kav broke impatiently into his thoughts. "You have him alone and unprotected. Shoot him!"
Doriana smiled tightly; and with that, the underlying tension that had been nagging at him ever since his task force's destruction finally faded away. "Don't be absurd, Vicelord," he said. Pulling out the blaster, he leaned over and set it on an empty chair between him and Mitth'raw'nuruodo. "I would as soon shatter thousand-year-old crystal as kill a being such as this."
Mitth'raw'nuruodo inclined his head, his eyes glittering. "So I was indeed right about you," he said.
"Eventually," Doriana conceded. "But then, I don't imagine you're wrong very often."
"Then let this be your final mistake," Kav bit out, slapping at his desk chair's arm and popping open a hidden panel. In a single smooth motion he scooped out another hold-out blaster, pointed it at Mitth'raw'nuruodo, and fired.
The shot never reached him. Instead, it struck the faint haze that had suddenly appeared between them, then bounced straight back into Kav's torso.
The Neimoidian had just enough time to look startled before he collapsed forward onto the desk and lay still.
It was only then, as Doriana shifted his stunned gaze from Kav's body to the haze surrounding the desk, that he recognized its shape and coloration.
He looked through the edge of the shield at Mitth'raw'nuruodo. "It was still something of a risk, wasn't it?" he asked, striving to keep his voice conversational.
"Not really," the other assured him. "The shield generator was simple enough to remove from one of the droidekas you provided for me. As I said at the time, we've had some experience with reversing the polarity of such devices." He gestured. "And it was easily predictable that Vicelord Kav would claim his chair and desk for his own, and thus position himself for his own destruction."
"I meant the risk you took with me," Doriana said. "The shield wouldn't have blocked my shot."
"No, it wouldn't," Mitth'raw'nuruodo agreed. "But I had to be certain that you were someone I could trust."
Doriana frowned. "Why?"
For a moment Mitth'raw'nuruodo didn't answer. Then, leaning over, he picked up the blaster Doriana had discarded. "You and your Master, Darth Sidious, told me of a people you call the Far Outsiders gathering at the edge of the galaxy," he said, turning the weapon over in his hands. "Have you ever actually seen these beings?"
"As far as I know, we haven't," Doriana admitted.
"I thought not," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, suddenly intense. "But we have."
A cold chill ran up Doriana's back. "Where?"
"At the far edge of the Chiss Ascendancy," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, his voice dark and grim. "It was a small reconnaissance force, but it fought with a savage ferocity before it was finally repulsed."
"How many ships were there?" Doriana asked, his mind kicking into high speed. Darth Sidious coveted information of this sort. Enough of it might even persuade him to forgive Doriana the loss of his Trade Federation task force. "What sort of weaponry did they have? Do you have any combat data?"
"I have some," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. "Admiral Ar'alani was in command of the force that ultimately drove them away. That's why she came personally to investigate Car'das and his companions. We wondered if the Republic they spoke of might be allied with the invaders."
"And that's also why she was willing to look the other way while you dealt with the Vagaari," Doriana said as a final nagging piece of the puzzle finally fell into place. "A two-front war would be exceptionally nasty."
"Correct," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, and Doriana thought he could hear a note of approval at his quick deduction. "My actions were contrary to official Chiss policy, but she knew as well as I that the Vagaari had to be dealt with, as quickly and decisively as possible. I will speak to her; if she's willing, I'll provide you with copies of the information you seek."
"Thank you," Doriana said. "Now. A moment ago you spoke of trust between us. What exactly did you have in mind?"
"For the moment, nothing," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. "Each of us has our own peoples to defend and our own politics to deal with. But in the future, who can tell? Perhaps
someday our peoples will end up fighting side by side against this threat."
"I hope so," Doriana said. "I, for my part, intend to work with our leaders to prepare as best I can for that day."
"As will I," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. "Though the obstacles at my end may be difficult to overcome."
Doriana thought about Lord Sidious and his hatred of non-humans. It wouldn't exactly be easy at his end, either. "I've seen you work military miracles," he said. "I'm sure you can work political ones, as well."
"Perhaps," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. "My brother may be able to assist in that area when he returns." He stood up and held out the blaster. "At any rate, you and your ship are free to go."
Doriana waved away the proffered weapon. "Keep it, Commander," he said. "Think of it as a souvenir of our first victory together."
"Thank you," Mitth'raw'nuruodo said gravely, slipping the blaster into a pocket. "May it not be our last."
"Indeed," Doriana agreed. "Which reminds me. There's one other small matter I'd like to discuss with you . . ."
"You're joking," Car'das said, frowning at Thrawn. "He's offering me a job?"
"Not just a job, but a highly placed leadership position," Thrawn said. "He wanted me to invite you to accompany him back to the Republic on the Darkvenge so that you could discuss it."
"This doesn't make any sense," Car'das protested. "I'm barely out of school. What kind of high-power position could I possibly be qualified for?"
"Age is not necessarily the best indicator of talent and ability," Thrawn pointed out. "In your case, he was highly impressed by the role you played in luring the Vagaari into position for the attack. You've shown yourself to be intelligent, resourceful, and able to remain cool under fire, qualities he prizes as well as I do."
Car'das rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. It was still ridiculous, of course. But it was also far too intriguing to simply dismiss out of hand. "Did he say what sort of job it would be?"
"I gather it would involve some of the same smuggling work you're doing with Captain Qennto," Thrawn said. "But beneath such surface activities, your primary task would be to create and operate a private information network for him."
Car'das pursed his lips. Smuggling alone he could take or leave, but this other part sounded a lot more interesting. "He's not expecting me to build this network on my own, is he?"
Thrawn shook his head. "He would begin by giving you several months of training and on-the-spot instruction. After that, you would have some of his contacts and resources in the Republic to draw on."
"Which I would guess are pretty impressive," Car'das said, thinking hard. It would mean no more of Qennto's casually lunatic way of dealing with clients and competitors. No more ships falling apart underneath him for lack of funds or interest. Best of all, no Hutts.
"It's your decision, of course," Thrawn said. "But I believe you have the necessary gifts to excel at such a job."
"And as an extra added bonus it would also enhance my usefulness as a possible future contact with the Republic?" Car'das asked wryly.
Thrawn smiled. "As I said, you have the necessary gifts."
"Well, it can't hurt to check it out." Car'das studied Thrawn's face. "Was there something else?"
To his surprise, the other actually hesitated. "I wanted to ask a favor of you," he said at last. "Whichever ship you choose to return on, I'd ask that you never tell Qennto or Ferasi what happened to Outbound Flight."
Car'das grimaced. He'd thought about that himself. Thought about it a lot, in fact. "Especially Ferasi?"
"Especially her," Thrawn said, his voice tinged with sadness. "There are all too few idealists in this universe, Car'das. Too few people who strive always to see only the good in others. I wouldn't want to be responsible for crushing even one of them."
"And besides, you rather liked all that unquestioning adulation coming your way?"
Thrawn smiled faintly. "All beings appreciate such admiration," he said. "You have excellent insight into the hearts of others. Stratis has chosen well."
"I guess we'll find out." Car'das held out his hand. "Well. Good-bye, Commander. It's been an honor knowing you."
"As it has for me, as well," Thrawn said, taking his hand. "Farewell . . . Jorj."
"I don't know," Qennto said, shaking his head. "For my money, it sounds like a really bad idea."
"I'll be fine," Car'das assured him. "Thrawn says Stratis isn't the sort to lure me aboard just to make trouble. It's not his style."
"Maybe," Qennto rumbled. "Maybe not. The last thing a guy like that will want is someone like you planting yourself on a Coruscant street corner and shouting his past activities from the bottom of your lungs."
"And what about us?" Maris added. "We knew what he was planning for Outbound Flight, too."
"But you never knew his real name," Car'das reminded her. "All you have is an alias and a rumor. That's not going to get you any traction."
"Even if we were stupid enough to try?" Qennto asked, throwing a warning look at Maris.
"Something like that," Car'das agreed, hoping neither of them would bring up the fact that they had known Kav's real name. Still, Kai' was a common enough Neimoidian name; and since the vicelord himself was dead, that wasn't likely to be too much of a problem. Certainly Stratis himself hadn't seemed worried about it. "Anyway, Thrawn vouches for the man."
"That's good enough for me," Maris declared. "I just hope Drixo the Hutt will be as reasonable."
"Don't worry about Drixo," Qennto said with a grunt. "She won't be a problem, not with all this extra loot to calm her down. In fact, I'll bet I can even talk her into giving us a bonus."
Maris rolled her eves. "Here we go again."
"Hey, I'm a businessman," Qennto protested. "This is what I do."
"Just do it carefully, okay?" Car'das said. "I don't want to have to worry about you two."
"You worry about yourself," Qennto said ominously, jabbing a large finger into Car'das's chest for emphasis. "Whatever Thrawn says, this Stratis sounds about as slippery as a greased Dug, and twice as unfriendly."
"And having Thrawn foil his attack on Outbound Flight won't have helped his mood any," Maris said. Her forehead wrinkled slightly. "Thrawn did stop his attack, didn't he?"
Car'das felt his stomach tighten. Maris had been a shipmate, someone he'd spent half a year living and working and fighting alongside. More than that, he considered her a friend.
He'd never lied to a friend before. Did he really want to start now? And with a lie as terrible as this one?
And then, Thrawn's voice seemed to float up from his memory. There are all too few idealists in this universe .. .
The truth wouldn't help the dead of Outbound Flight. All it could do was hurt Maris. "Of course he stopped Stratis's attack," he assured her with all the false heartiness he could create. "I was right there when Outbound Flight flew away."
The wrinkles in her forehead smoothed out, and Maris smiled. "I knew he could do it," she said, holding out her hand. "Good luck, Jorj, and take care of yourself. Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime."
Car'das forced himself to smile as he took her hand. "Yes," he said softly. "Maybe we will."
The shattering impact had passed, the violent shaking had faded away, and the dust was beginning to settle onto the darkened deck. Slowly, carefully, Uliar lifted his head from the mass of chair cushions he'd curled up against, wincing as a twinge of pain arced through his neck. "Hello?" he called, his voice echoing eerily through the silent room.
"Uliar?" a voice called back. "It's--" He broke off as a sudden coughing fit took him. "It's Pressor," he said when he got the cough under control. "You all right?"
"Yeah, I think so," Uliar said, getting up and walking unsteadily toward the voice. All the lights were out except for the permlight emergency panels, leaving D-4 looking and feeling uncomfortably like a tomb. "You?"
"I think so," Pressor said. A pair of shadowy figures crawled ou
t from beneath a desk across the room, resolving into Dillian Pressor and his son, Jorad, as they stepped beneath one of the permlights. "Where are all the others?"
"I don't know," Uliar said. "Everyone scattered for cover when you gave the collision warning." He looked around. "What a mess."
"That's for sure," Pressor agreed grimly, rubbing at some blood trickling down his cheek. "I wonder what happened."
"It didn't feel like laser blasts or energy torpedoes," Uliar said. "Aside from that, I haven't the faintest idea."
"Well, first things first," Pressor said. "We need to get everyone together and check for food, water, and medical supplies. After that, we can see about power and living quarters. After that, we can see if we can get to the bridge and figure out what in blazes happened."
He started picking his way through the debris, Jorad at his side, clutching his hand tightly. "Yeah, it's a good thing you gave us that warning, all right," Uliar commented as they reached the door. "How come you knew it was coming?"
Pressor shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "It just sort of popped into my head."
"You mean like some kind of Jedi thing?"
"I'm not a Jedi, Chas," Pressor said firmly. "I probably heard something moving or scraping against the hull. Precursor asteroid gravel, or maybe atmospheric friction. Something like that."
"Sure," Uliar said. "That's probably it."
But whether or not Pressor was a Jedi, there was definitely something strange about him. And after what the Jedi had done to Outbound Flight, Uliar would be watching Pressor and his family. He would be watching them very closely.
In the meantime, there was a little matter of survival to deal with. Ducking under a twisted section of ceiling panel, he followed Pressor down the corridor.