Star Wars - Outbound Flight

by Timothy Zahn

Lorana shook her head. “Not by me,” she said. “Possibly not by anyone, at least outside of a major shipyard.”

  Thrass gazed out the canopy at the distant sun. “You have five other Dreadnaughts here, each with its own hyperdrive,” he reminded her. “Could we move across to one of the others and use its systems?”

  Lorana rubbed her forehead, wincing as the pressure accentuated the throbbing pain behind her eyes. “According to the status readings back in ComOps, none of the other hyperdrives is operational,” she said. “And all the control lines to the other Dreadnaughts are down, besides. Whatever your brother used to… to stop C’baoth’s attack, it scorched a great deal of the delicate equipment aboard. It’s going to take months, maybe even years, to tear them apart and fix them.”

  Thrass tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the edge of the nearest console. “Then this system is where we stop,” he said. “We’ll shut down the drive, take the Delta-Twelve craft you spoke of, and go try to make a bargain for your people.”

  “I don’t think we should shut down the drive,” Lorana said, trying to think. “The shape it’s in, if we shut it down we might not be able to start it up again.”

  “But if we don’t shut it down, Outbound Flight won’t take long to travel all the way through this system,” Thrass pointed out. “We could be away for a month or more negotiating with the Defense Force and Nine Families. By that time, the vessel could have passed into interstellar space, where we would have difficulty locating it.”

  And if the hyperdrives proved unfixable, interstellar space would be where Outbound Flight would remain. “Then we’d better find someplace here where we can park for a while,” she said. “A nice, high orbit around one of the planets, say. Let’s fire up what’s left of the sensors and see what our choices are.”

  The survey took most of two hours. In the end, there turned out to be only one viable alternative.

  “It’s smaller than I’d hoped for,” Thrass said as they leaned side by side over the main sensor console. “Less gravity means less stability to the orbit from the perturbations of passing objects.”

  “But it also means less atmosphere that might cause the orbit to decay,” Lorana pointed out. “And it’s almost directly along our vector, which means no fancy maneuvering to get us there. I say we go for it.”

  “Agreed,” Thrass said. “Let’s hope the drive holds out that long.”

  They had reached the target planetoid and were on their final approach to orbit when the drive gave one final surge and shut down.

  “Report,” Lorana bit out as she stretched out with the Force, trying unsuccessfully to coax the system back to life. “Thrass?”

  “The red curve bends too far inward,” Thrass reported tightly from the nav console. “Fifteen orbits from now, it intersects the surface.”

  A wave of despair rose like acid in Lorana’s throat. Resolutely, she forced it down. After all they’d been through, Outbound Flight was not going to end up destroying itself. Not now. “Get to the sensor station,” she ordered him. “See if there’s a place—any place—where we might be able to land this thing.”

  “This vessel was not designed with landing in mind,” Thrass warned as he hurried to the proper console. “Could we possibly still make orbit?”

  “I’m working on it,” Lorana said, crossing to the cluster of engineering monitors and searching among the red lights for something that might still be showing green. Two of the forward braking and maneuvering jets, she saw, were still operative. If they could somehow rotate Outbound Flight 180 degrees and then use those jets to give them a boost along their current vector…

  They had slipped into the planetoid’s gravitational field and used up the first of their fifteen orbits before she reluctantly concluded that such a maneuver wouldn’t be possible. There was simply too much mass to be moved, and too little time in which to move it. “No luck,” she said, stepping to Thrass’s side. “You find anything?”

  “Perhaps,” he said hesitantly. “I’ve located a long, enclosed valley that I believe will be deep enough to hold us.”

  “I don’t see how that gains us anything,” Lorana said. “Enclosed valleys imply valley walls, which imply a sudden stop somewhere along the line.”

  “In this case, the stop would be somewhat less violent,” Thrass said, pointing to the display. “This particular valley is full of small rocks.”

  Lorana frowned, leaning over for a closer look. He was right: the whole valley was filled nearly to the top with what seemed to be gravel-sized stones. “I wonder how that happened,” she commented.

  “Multiple asteroid or meteor collisions, most likely,” Thrass said. “It doesn’t matter. This is the only place on the planetoid that offers a chance for survival.”

  Lorana grimaced. But he was right. With the drive gone, coming down anywhere else on the planetoid would mean a full-bore collision at near-orbit speeds. With the gravel, at least they would have a slightly more gradual slowdown. “Can we reach it with the drive gone?” she asked, keying for an analysis.

  “The valley is not far off our current orbital path,” Thrass said. “I believe the maneuvering systems will be adequate to move us into position, and to give us at least a little deceleration before impact.”

  The analysis appeared on the display. “The computer agrees with you,” she confirmed, looking out at the dark world rotating beneath them as she tried to think. “All right. We’re here in D-One, the Delta-Twelve is in D-Three, and the rest of the survivors are in the core. If we want D-Three to end up on top of the gravel heap, we’ll need to rotate Outbound Flight to put D-Six at the bottom. It’ll hit first, taking the initial impact and hopefully slowing us down enough that the damage to the other ships will be minimal when they dig in.”

  “Including the damage to this one?” Thrass asked pointedly.

  Lorana made a face. “I know, but we have no choice. We need D-Three’s hangar bay to stay above the surface if we’re going to get the Delta-Twelve out. So we rotate D-Six to the bottom, as I say, then move the people out of the core to—”

  “Hello?” a voice came suddenly from the bridge speakers. “Jedi Jinzler? You there somewhere? This is Chas Uliar. We got tired of waiting, so we all came up to D-Four. Jinzler?”

  For a stretched-out second Lorana and Thrass stared at each other in horror. Then, snapping out of her paralysis, Lorana dived for the comm station. “This is Lorana Jinzler,” she called urgently. “Uliar, get everyone back to the storage core right away. You hear me? Get everyone back to—”

  “Jinzler, are you there?” Uliar’s voice came again. “Jedi, if you’ve cut out on us I’m going to be really upset with you.”

  “Uliar?” Lorana called again. “Uliar!”

  But there was no reply. “He can’t hear you,” Thrass said grimly. “The comm isn’t transmitting at this end.”

  Lorana twisted her neck to look out at the planetoid, her pulse throbbing violently against the agony in her head. D-4. Why did they have to have gone to D-4?

  Because it was the one closest to the Jedi school where she’d left them, of course. And now there were fifty-seven people wandering around down there, completely oblivious as to what was about to happen to them.

  Thrass was watching her, a tautness in his face. “We have no choice,” she told him quietly. “We’ll have to rotate and put D- Four on top.”

  His expression didn’t even flicker. Clearly, he’d already come to the same conclusion. “Which will put D-One—this one—at the very bottom,” he said.

  Where it would take the full brunt of their crash landing. “We have no choice,” Lorana said again. “It’s only an assumption that the bottom Dreadnaught will take enough of the impact to leave the others intact. For all we know, they might all hit hard enough to be ripped open to vacuum. We have to try to keep D-Four as far out of the rock as possible.”

  “I understand.” Thrass hesitated. “There’s still time for you to leave, you know. You may at least be able
to get to the core before we hit, perhaps even all the way to D-Four.”

  Lorana shook her head. “You can’t handle the landing alone,” she reminded him. “But I could do that while you go.”

  “And who would keep the remaining systems from self-destroying while you cleared a path through the pylons for me?” Thrass countered. “No, Jedi Jinzler. It appears we will both be giving our lives for your people.”

  Lorana felt her vision blurring with tears. Deep in the back crevices of her mind, she’d wondered why she’d felt so strongly about sending Car’das home with that message for her brother. Now she knew it had been the subtle prompting of the Force.

  “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 per
sonally 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…”