Star Wars - Outbound Flight

by Timothy Zahn

  “In that shuttle?” Thrass countered before Jinzler could answer. “No. There isn’t enough room for even ten.”

  “And it would take time to get them up here anyway,” Jinzler said. “They’re still in the storage core.”

  Car’das grimaced. The storage core. Of course—the one area Thrawn’s attack had ignored. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t understand the problem,” Jinzler said, looking back and forth between them. “Why don’t we just leave?”

  “For starters, we can’t fly Outbound Flight very far, not just the two of us,” Car’das said. “Not even if we had time to get your people up here to help us.”

  Lorana looked around the bridge. “We won’t need them,” she said, her voice tight but firm. “I can fly Outbound Flight.”

  “By yourself?” Thrass asked in clear disbelief. “One single person?”

  “One single Jedi,” Jinzler corrected him. “Master C’baoth insisted we all learn to handle all of the major systems. At least, under normal conditions.”

  “The conditions here are hardly normal,” Car’das pointed out. “And it still leaves the question of where we go. We’ll never make it back to the Republic, not with this much damage.”

  “We have to reach a Defense Fleet base, as my brother originally intended,” Thrass said.

  “And then what happens to my people?” Jinzler asked. “Would they be prisoners of war? Captives held for study?”

  “The Chiss aren’t like that,” Car’das insisted.

  “But the end result might be the same,” Thrass conceded. “If the Fifth Ruling Family chooses to press its claim to Outbound Flight, even if we go to a military base they may demand that all aboard be placed in holding until the matter can be decided.”

  “A prison by any other name,” Jinzler said grimly. “How long would this decision process take?”

  Thrass snorted. “With a prize such as Outbound Flight? It could be years.”

  “So we can forget going anywhere in Chiss space,” Car’das said. “Any idea what other habitable worlds there might be out here?”

  “Even if I did, I would caution against anything nearby,” Thrass said. “This region is dangerous, with pirates and privateers all around.”

  “Not to mention what’s left of the Vagaari,” Car’das agreed with a shiver. “Come on, Thrass, think. There has to be something else we can do.”

  Thrass gazed out at the Fifth Family ships. “There’s one other possibility,” he said slowly. “Within two days’ flight is a star cluster that the Defense Fleet has begun to fortify as an emergency refuge. I’ve seen the data, and there are at least ten habitable worlds within it that haven’t yet been explored.”

  “Kind of an out-of-the-way homestead,” Car’das pointed out doubtfully.

  “And still in Chiss space,” Jinzler added.

  “But it’s a place where vessels of the Fifth Family wouldn’t accidentally discover you,” Thrass said. “Only Defense Fleet personnel go inside, and only to specific systems as they work on the fortifications.”

  “So what’s the catch?” Car’das asked.

  Thrass made a face. “The catch is that I don’t have the safe access routes into the cluster,” he said. “Are your navigational systems capable of finding such routes on their own?”

  “Probably not,” Jinzler said. “But I might be able to. There are Jedi navigational techniques that should be good enough to take us through even a star cluster.”

  “So what happens if she can?” Car’das asked Thrass. “They set up shop and wait for all this to blow over?”

  “Or I return after they’re hidden and negotiate in secret with the Council of Families for their safe passage home,” Thrass said.

  “Even if such negotiations take a few months, the survivors will at least have a habitable world to live on.” He looked at Jinzler. “There are other hypercapable vessels aboard that I could use, are there not?”

  “Just one, a two-passenger Delta-Twelve Skysprite,” Jinzler said. “But it should have the range you need.”

  “So that’s it?” Car’das asked, not quite believing they’d hammered out something workable so quickly. “We hide Outbound Flight in this cluster, negotiate a deal with the Chiss—all the Chiss—and everyone gets what they want?”

  “Basically.” Jinzler hesitated. “But then we won’t include you. I have something else I need you to do for me.” Her lips compressed. “A personal favor.”

  “Like what?” Car’das asked cautiously. Doing a personal favor for a Jedi didn’t sound very appetizing.

  “I want you to find my brother when you return to the Republic,” she said. “Dean Jinzler, probably working with Senate Support Services on Coruscant. Tell him—” She hesitated. “Just tell him that his sister was thinking about him, hoping that someday he’ll be able to let go of his anger. His anger at me, at our parents, and at himself.”

  “All right,” Car’das said, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. The fact that she was sending him on such an errand implied she wasn’t at all sure she’d be coming back. Given the shape Outbound Flight was in, he wouldn’t have bet on it, either. “I’ll do my best.”

  For a long moment she held his eyes. Then she nodded. “You’d better go, then,” she said. She looked down at her still-glowing lightsaber, as if suddenly realizing it was still active, and closed it down. “Please don’t forget.”

  “I won’t,” he promised. “Good luck.” He looked at Thrass. “To both of you.”

  Ten minutes later, Car’das eased the Chiss shuttle out of the Dreadnaught’s hangar and flew it clear. Turning the nose toward the waiting Fifth Family ships, he looked back over his shoulder at the magnificent failure that had been Outbound Flight.

  He wondered if anyone would ever see it again.

  Doriana was gazing out the bridge canopy, listening with half an ear to the argument still going on between Chaf’orm’bintrano, Mitth’raw’nuruodo, and the female Chiss, when Outbound Flight abruptly made the jump to lightspeed.

  For a moment he stared in disbelief… and then, slowly, he felt a smile tug at his lips. So that was what Mitth’raw’nuruodo had been up to with this confrontation. He’d been stalling for time while some of his people stole the Dreadnaughts right out from under Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano’s nose.

  And even Doriana’s own attempt to muddy the Chiss waters had apparently been part of that scheme. Had Mitth’raw’nuruodo anticipated Doriana’s efforts? Or had he simply incorporated them into his own plan as they occurred? Either way, it was artfully done. “Excuse me?” he spoke up, lifting a finger. “I believe the discussion is over.” He waited until he had their attention, then angled the upraised finger to point out the canopy. “Your prize is gone.”

  24

  The shimmering hyperspace sky flowed past the Dreadnaught’s canopy as Outbound Flight drove onward into the unknown. Lorana knew the sky was there, but had no time to actually focus on the sight. Every bit of her attention was tied up with D-1’s systems as she used the Force to both sense the equipment status and keep the controls in proper adjustment.

  It was hard work. It was hideously hard work.

  Vaguely, she felt a whisper of movement at her side. “Lorana?” Thrass asked, his voice distant in her overstretched consciousness.

  “Did you get to them?” she asked. The moment of distraction was too much; even as she finished her question one of the reactor feeds began to surge. Clamping down hard on her lower lip, she stretched out and cased the flow back to its proper level.

  “I’m sorry,” Thrass said. “I can’t even find a way off this ship. All the pylon turbolift tunnels are blocked to one degree or another. Perhaps if you brought us out of hyperspace I could find a vac suit and make my way across to the core that way.”

  “No,” Lorana said. The word came out tartly and impolitely, she suspected, but she didn’t have the concentration to spare for courtesy. “Hyperdrive not good.”

  In po
int of fact, the hyperdrive was very much not good. It was running blazingly hot, and it was all she could do to keep the circuits from looping and ripping the thing completely out of her control. If she shut it down now, there was every chance it would never start up again. Even if she didn’t, it would probably eventually collapse on its own.

  On the other hand, with the extra speed the runaway had given them, the edge of the cluster was now only a few standard hours away. If she could continue to fly the ship and use the Jedi navigation techniques at the same time to get them safely between the tightly packed stars, they had a good chance of reaching one of Thrass’s target systems before that happened.

  “I understand,” Thrass said. “I’ll keep trying to find a communication line that’ll get me through to them.”

  He moved away, and Lorana felt a pang of guilt. If the survivors were still waiting down there like she’d told them to, they would certainly be wondering where she was. They might even conclude that she’d run off and abandoned them.

  Across the bridge, a flashing red light warned that the alluvial dampers were drifting. Frowning in concentration, trying to maintain her Force grip on all the myriad other controls she was simultaneously juggling, she reached out a hand and carefully adjusted the dampers back into proper alignment. Once they reached their destination and she could finally let the systems ease down to standby, she and Thrass could make their way back to Uliar and the rest and explain what had happened.

  And they would understand. Surely they would understand.

  At the other side of the bridge, another red light was flashing. Taking a deep breath, wondering how long she’d be able to keep this up, she stretched out with the Force.

  “You will pay for this,” Chaf’orm’bintrano ground out, pacing back and forth across the conference room in front of the three prisoners standing silently in front of him. There was a cushioned chair behind the narrow desk, but he was apparently too angry even to sit down. “You hear me? You will pay.” He leveled his glare first at Doriana, then at Car’das, and finally at Thrawn. “And the charge will be high treason.”

  Standing behind the desk, well out of the way of the Aristocra’s pacing, Admiral Ar’alani stirred. “I don’t think such a charge will hold, Aristocra,” she said. Her expression, Car’das noted, had maintained a careful neutrality as she listened to Chaf’orm’bintrano’s rantings. Still, he thought he could detect a certain relief behind the aloofness.

  Small wonder. She’d gotten what she wanted: Outbound Flight was safely out of Chaf’orm’bintrano’s grasping hands. What happened to a couple of prisoners was probably a matter of complete indifference to her.

  Or at least, what happened to the two non-Chiss prisoners. “You don’t think the charge will hold?” Chaf’orm’bintrano snapped, shifting his glare to her.

  Ar’alani stood her ground. “No, I don’t,” she said. “Car’das has already stated that Syndic Mitth’ras’safis and the human Lorana Jinzler were the perpetrators.”

  “With his assistance and advice.”

  “Advice alone is only lesser treason,” Ar’alani said. “And as a non-Chiss, he can’t be charged with any level of treason anyway. As for Doriana, he clearly had nothing to do with it.”

  “What are they going on about now?” Doriana murmured in Car’das’s ear.

  “The Aristocra wants to roast us over a low fire,” Car’das murmured back. “The admiral is suggesting he needs to rethink his charges.”

  “Ah.”

  The byplay hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Do the prisoners wish to add to the proceedings?” Chaf’orm’bintrano asked acidly.

  “Actually, the prisoners will go free,” Thrawn said, the first words he’d spoken since they’d all been herded into the conference room where Chaf’orm’bintrano could threaten them in private. “They’ve done nothing with which they can be charged. If you wish to blame someone, blame me.”

  “I fully intend to,” Chaf’orm’bintrano bit out. “After I’ve dealt with your accomplices.”

  “They’re not my accomplices,” Thrawn said calmly. “Furthermore, they’re my prisoners, and as such fall under the legal authority of the Chiss Expansionary Fleet.” He lifted his eyebrows. “As do I, for that matter.”

  “Not anymore,” Chaf’orm’bintrano said. “For the crime of unprovoked attack against sentient beings, I hereby revoke your military position.”

  “Just a moment, Aristocra,” Ar’alani said, taking a step forward. “You can’t revoke his position for a crime for which he has yet to be convicted.”

  “I suggest you reread the law, Admiral,” Chaf’orm’bintrano said tartly. “Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo has pushed the limits for the last time—and this time we have proof, scattered across the system before us.”

  “The Vagaari were an imminent threat to the Ascendancy,” Thrawn said. “And this system is within Chiss space.”

  “But this time you forgot to let your victim fire first,” Chaf’orm’bintrano said, an edge of triumph in his voice. “Don’t deny it—I have the records from your own vessels.”

  “The Vagaari made threats against both us and Outbound Flight,” Thrawn said. “I claim that such threats, backed up by their obvious firepower, were sufficient provocation for Chiss action.”

  “You can claim anything you wish,” Chaf’orm’bintrano said. “But the burden of proof is now on you, not me.” He looked at Ar’alani. “And until his trial takes place, I can and will revoke both his position and the military protection you so clearly hope to shelter him beneath.”

  Ar’alani didn’t answer. For a moment Chaf’orm’bintrano continued to stare at her, then turned back to Thrawn. “And your fellow prisoners will likewise be taken to trial,” he said. “These, along with the other two you have back at Crustai.” He paused. “Unless, of course, you have enough concern for their well-being to make a bargain.”

  Thrawn looked at Car’das and Doriana. “Such as?”

  “You will resign your position, completely and permanently,” Chaf’orm’bintrano said. “You will likewise renounce your status as Trial-born of the Eighth Family and disappear back into the great mass of Chiss citizenry, never again to rise to a position where you may threaten law or custom.”

  “You ask my entire life for the trade of a few alien prisoners,” Thrawn pointed out calmly. “Are you certain you’re willing to live with the consequences?”

  Chaf’orm’bintrano snorted. “What consequences?”

  “To begin with, the Eighth Family will not permit a Trial-born to simply renounce his affiliation,” Thrawn said. “They’ll insist on a hearing… and I don’t believe they’ll let me go. Not when they see the prize I’ll be bringing them.”

  Chaf’orm’bintrano stiffened. “You wouldn’t dare,” he rumbled, his voice dark with menace. “If Outbound Flight reappears at an Eighth Family stronghold—”

  “Outbound Flight is gone,” Thrawn cut him off. “And I refer to another technology entirely.” He waved a hand out at the stars. “To be specific, the device I used to bring both Outbound Flight and the Vagaari fleet out of hyperspace.”

  Chaf’orm’bintrano sent a startled look at Ar’alani. “The—? Are you saying they didn’t come here of their own choosing?”

  “The choosing was mine alone,” Thrawn assured him. “I can provide you a demonstration if you’d like.”

  “That device is not your property,” Ar’alani warned, her neutral expression suddenly gone. “It belongs to the Chiss Defense Fleet.”

  “And if I remain a member of the Expansionary Fleet, I will of course turn it over to you,” Thrawn assured her. “But if my military position is revoked, I will no longer have any official loyalty except to my adoptive family. At that point…” He left the sentence unfinished.

  Chaf’orm’bintrano was clearly having no trouble connecting the dots. “Admiral, you can’t permit him to manipulate you this way,” he insisted. “This is nothing less than extortion.”

  “This is n
othing less than reality,” Thrawn corrected. “And Admiral Ar’alani has nothing to say about it. You’re the one threatening to revoke my position.”

  For a long minute the two Chiss locked eyes. Then, abruptly, Chaf’orm’bintrano turned and stalked out of the conference room.

  “That didn’t look good,” Doriana murmured.

  “Actually, it was,” Car’das said, looking at Thrawn. “At least, I think so.”

  “Yes,” Thrawn confirmed, his face and body sagging a little. “He’s furious, but he doesn’t dare revoke my position now.” He looked at Ar’alani. “And once the Defense Fleet has the gravfield projector, I’m certain they’ll protect me from any future efforts on his part.”

  Ar’alani’s lips twitched. “We’ll do what we can,” she said. “But understand this, Commander. If you continue to act outside the legal boundaries set by the Defense Fleet and the Nine Families, there may come a point where we can no longer stand with you.”

  “I understand,” Thrawn said. “Understand in turn that I will continue to protect my people in whatever way I deem necessary.”

  “I would expect nothing less from you,” Ar’alani said. Her eyes flicked once to Doriana and Car’das. “I release your prisoners to you. Return to Crustai, and leave me to deal with the rest of the Vagaari debris.”

  “I obey,” Thrawn said, bowing his head to her. “The gravfield projector will be waiting for you at Crustai whenever you wish to retrieve it.”

  Ar’alani bowed in return and left the room.

  Thrawn took a deep breath. “And with that, I believe it’s finally over,” he said. “A shuttle is waiting to take us back to the Springhawk.” He gestured to Doriana. “And then I will return you and Vicelord Kav to your vessel.”

  “Thank you,” Doriana said. “We’re looking forward to returning home.”

  And as they filed out of the room, Car’das wondered at the odd stiffness in Doriana’s back.

  They were passing through one of the systems midway through the star cluster when the hyperdrive finally died. “No chance of fixing it?” Thrass asked.