by Timothy Zahn
She was left alone in the cabin for the rest of the day and into the night, seeing no one, speaking with no one. Meals were delivered by an SE4
servant droid; at all other times the door was kept locked. Whether the enforced privacy was on the captain's orders or whether it came from above was impossible to tell, but at least it gave her time to do such limited planning as she could.
There was similarly no way of knowing where they were going, but from the labored sound of the engines, she could guess they were pushing uncomfortably far past a Victory Star Destroyer's normal flank speed of Point Four Five. Possibly even as high as Point Five, which would mean they were covering a hundred twenty-seven light-years per hour. For a while she kept her mind occupied by trying to guess which system they might be making for; but as the hours ticked by and the number of possibilities grew too unwieldy to keep track of, she abandoned the game.
Twenty-two hours after leaving Abregado, they arrived at the rendezvous. At the last place Mara would have expected. At the very last place in the galaxy she would have wanted to go. The place where her universe had died a sudden and violent death.
Endor.
"The Grand Admiral will see you now," the stormtrooper squad leader said, stepping back from the opening door and motioning her ahead. Mara threw a glance at the silent Noghri bodyguard standing on the other side of the doorway and stepped through.
"Ah," a well-remembered voice called quietly from the command center in the middle of the room. Grand Admiral Thrawn sat in the double display ring, his red eyes glowing at her above the glistening white uniform. "Come in.
Mara stayed where she was. "Why did you bring me to Endor?" she demanded.
The glowing eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me," she said. "Endor. Where the Emperor died. Why did you choose this place for the rendezvous?"
The other seemed to consider that. "Come closer, Mara Jade." The voice was rich with the overtones of command, and Mara found herself walking toward him before she realized what she was doing. "If it's supposed to be a joke, it's in poor taste," she bit out. "If it's supposed to be a test, then get it over with."
"It is neither," Thrawn said as she came to the edge of the outer display ring and stopped. "The choice was forced upon us by other, unconnected business." One blue-black eyebrow raised slightly. "Or perhaps not entirely unconnected. That still remains to be seen. Tell me, can you really sense the Emperor's presence here?"
Mara took a deep breath, feeling the air shuddering through her lungs with an ache as real as it was intangible. Could Thrawn see how much this place hurt her? she wondered. How thick with memories and sensations the whole Endor system still remained? Or would he even care about any of that if he did?
He saw, all right. She could tell that much from the way he was looking at her. What he thought of it she didn't much care. "I can feel the evidence of his death," she told him. "It's not pleasant. Let's get this over with so I can get out of here."
His lip quirked, perhaps at her assumption that she would in fact be leaving the Chimaera. "Very well. Let's begin with some proof of who you were."
"I gave the Adamant's captain a high-level recognition code," she reminded him.
"Which is why you're here instead of in a detention cell," Thrawn said. "The code isn't proof in itself."
"All right, then," Mara said. "We met once, during the public dedication of the new Assemblage wing of the Imperial Palace on Coruscant. At that ceremony the Emperor introduced me to you as Lianna, one of his favorite dancers. Later, during the more private ceremony that followed, he revealed to you my true identity."
"And what was that private ceremony?"
"Your secret promotion to the rank of Grand Admiral." Thrawn pursed his lips, his eyes never leaving her face. "You wore a white dress to both ceremonies," he said. "Aside from the sash, the dress had only one decoration. Do you recall what that decoration was?" Mara had to think back. "It was a small shouldersculp," she said slowly. "Left shoulder. A Xyquine design, as I remember."
"It was indeed." Thrawn reached to his control board, touched a switch; and abruptly, the room was filled with holos of shouldersculps on ornate pillars. "The one you wore is somewhere in this room. Find it." Mara swallowed, turning slowly as she looked around. She'd had literally hundreds of fancy dresses for her cover role as a member of the Emperor's entourage. To remember one particular shouldersculp out of all that...
She shook her head, trying to clear away the unpleasant buzzing sensation that hovered deep in her mind. She'd had an excellent memory once, one which the Emperor's training had made even better. Focusing her thoughts, fighting upstream against the disquieting aura of this place, she concentrated
... "That's it," she said, pointing to a delicate filigree of gold and blue. Thrawn's expression didn't change, but he seemed to relax a little in his seat. "Welcome back, Emperor's Hand." He touched the switch a second time, and the art gallery vanished. "You've been a long time in returning." The glowing eyes bored into her face, the question unspoken but obvious. "What was here for me before?" she countered. "Who but a Grand Admiral would have accepted me as legitimate?"
"Was that the only reason?"
Mara hesitated, recognizing the trip wire. Thrawn had been in command of the Empire for over a year now, and yet she hadn't approached him until now. "There were other reasons," she said. "None of which I wish to discuss at this time."
His face hardened. "As, I presume, you don't wish to discuss why you helped Skywalker escape from Talon Karrde?"
YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER.
Mara jerked, unsure for that first frozen heartbeat whether the voice had been real or just in her mind. The strange buzzing intensified, and for a moment she could almost see the Emperor's wizened face glaring at her. The image grew clearer, the rest of the room beginning to swim before her eyes ... She took a deep breath, forcing calmness. She would not fall apart. Not here; not in front of the Grand Admiral. "It wasn't my idea to let Skywalker escape," she said.
"And you were unable to alter that decision?" Thrawn asked, the eyebrow lifting again. "You, the Emperor's Hand?"
"We were on Myrkr," Mara reminded him stiffly. "Under the influence of a planet full of ysalamiri." She glanced over his shoulder at the ysalamir hanging from the nutrient frame behind his chair. "I doubt you've forgotten their effect on the Force."
"Oh, I remember it quite well," Thrawn nodded. "It's their dampening of the Force, in fact, that proves Skywalker had help in his escape. All I need to know from you is whether it was Karrde himself who gave the order, or others of his group acting independently."
So that he would know where to focus his revenge. Mara looked into those glowing eyes, beginning to remember now why the Emperor had made this man a Grand Admiral. "It doesn't matter who's responsible," she said. "I'm here to offer a deal that'll clear the debt."
"I'm listening," Thrawn said, his face neutral.
"I want you to stop your harassment of Karrde and his organization. To cancel the cash bounty on all of us, and clear us with all Imperial forces and worlds that you control." She hesitated; but this was no time to go all bashful. "I also want a monetary credit of three million to be deposited under Karrde's name toward the purchase of Imperial goods and services."
"Indeed," Thrawn said, his lip twitching in an amused smile. "I'm afraid Skywalker isn't worth nearly that much to me. Or do you propose to deliver Coruscant, as well?"
"I'm not offering Skywalker or Coruscant," Mara said. "I'm offering the Katana fleet."
The amused smile vanished. "The Katana fleet?" Thrawn repeated quietly, his eyes glittering.
"Yes, the Katana fleet," Mara said. "The Dark Force, if you prefer the more dramatic title. I presume you've heard of it?"
"I have indeed. Where is it?"
The tone of command again; but this time Mara was ready for it. Not that it would have done him any good anyway. "I don't know," she told him.
"But K
arrde does."
For a long moment Thrawn gazed at her in silence. "How?" he asked at last.
"He was on a smuggling mission that went sour," she told him. "They escaped past some Imperial watchdogs, but didn't have time to do a proper jump calculation. They ran into the fleet, thought it was a trap, and jumped again, nearly destroying the ship in the process. Karrde was on nav duty; later, he figured out what they'd hit."
"Interesting," he murmured. "When exactly was this?"
"That's all I'll give you until we have a deal," Mara told him. She caught the expression on his face-"And if you're thinking of running me through one of Intelligence's sifters, don't bother. I really don't know where the fleet is."
Thrawn studied her. "And you would have blocks set up around it even if you did," he agreed. "All right. Tell me where Karrde is, then."
"So Intelligence can sift him instead?" Mara shook her head. "No. Let me go back to him, and I'll get you the location. Then we'll trade. Assuming the deal is to your liking."
A dark shadow had settled across Thrawn's face. "Do not presume to dictate to me, Mara Jade," he said quietly. "Not even in private." A small shiver ran up Mara's back. Yes; she was remembering indeed why Thrawn had been made a Grand Admiral. "I was the Emperor's Hand," she reminded him, matching the steel in his tone as best she could. Even to her own ears it came out a poor second. "I spoke for him ... and even Grand Admirals were obliged to listen."
Thrawn smiled sardonically. "Really. Your memory serves you poorly, Emperor's Hand. When all is said and done, you were little more than a highly specialized courier."
Mara glared at him. "Perhaps it is your memory that needs refreshing, Grand Admiral Thrawn," she retorted. "I traveled throughout the Empire in his name, making policy decisions that changed lives at the highest levels of government-"
"You carried out his will," Thrawn cut her off sharply. "No more. Whether you heard his commands more clearly than the rest of his Hands is irrelevant. It was still his decisions that you implemented."
"What do you mean, the rest of his Hands?" Mara sniffed. "I was the only-"
She broke off. The look on Thrawn's face ... and abruptly, all her rising anger drained away. "No," she breathed. "No. You're wrong." He shrugged. "Believe what you wish. But don't attempt to blind others with exaggerated memories of your own importance." Reaching to his control board, he tapped a key. "Captain? What report from the boarding party?"
The reply wasn't audible; but Mara wasn't interested in what Thrawn's men were doing, anyway. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Hadn't the Emperor himself given her the title of Emperor's Hand? Hadn't he himself brought her to Coruscant from her home and trained her, teaching her how to use her rare sensitivity to the Force to serve him?
He wouldn't have lied to her. He wouldn't have.
"No, there's no point to that," Thrawn said. He looked up at Mara.
"You don't happen to have any idea why Leia Organa Solo might have come to Endor, do you?"
With an effort, Mara brought her thoughts back from the past. "Organa Solo is here?"
"The Millennium Falcon is, at any rate," he said grimly. "Left in orbit, which unfortunately leaves us no way of knowing where she might be. If she's there at all." He turned back to his board. "Very well, Captain. Have the ship brought aboard. Perhaps a closer examination will tell us something." He got an acknowledgment and keyed off the circuit. "Very well, Emperor's Hand," he said, looking up at Mara again. "We have an agreement. The Dark Force for the lifting of our death mark against Karrde. How long will it take you to return to Karrde's current base?"
Mara hesitated; but that information wouldn't do the Grand Admiral much good. "On the Etherway, about three days. Two and a half if I push it."
"I suggest you do so," Thrawn said. "Since you have exactly eight days to obtain the location and bring it back here to me." Mara stared at him. "Eight days? But that-"
"Eight days. Or I find him and get the location my way. A dozen possible retorts rushed through Mar'a's mind. Another look at those glowing red eyes silenced all of them. "I'll do what I can," she managed. Turning, she headed back across the room.
"I'm sure you will," he said after her. "And afterward, we'll sit down and have a long talk together. About your years away from Imperial service ... and why you've been so long in returning." Pellaeon stared rigidly at his commander, heart thudding audibly in his chest. "The Katana fleet?" he repeated carefully.
"So our young Emperor's Hand told me," Thrawn said. His gaze was fixed solidly on one of the displays in front of him. "She may be lying, of course."
Pellaeon nodded mechanically, the possibilities sweeping out like a spread cloak before him. "The Dark Force," he murmured the old nickname, listening to the words echo through his mind. "You know, I once had hopes of finding the fleet myself."
"Most everyone your age did," Thrawn returned dryly. "Is the homing device properly installed aboard her ship?"
"Yes, sir." Pellaeon let his gaze drift around the room, his eyes focusing without real interest on the sculptures and flats that Thrawn had on display today. The Dark Force. Lost for nearly fifty-five years. Now within their grasp ...
He frowned suddenly at the sculptures. Many of them looked familiar, somehow.
"They're the various pieces of art that graced the offices of Rendili StarDrive and the Fleet planning department at the time they were working on the basic design of the Katana," Thrawn answered his unspoken question.
"I see," Pellaeon said. He took a deep breath and, reluctantly, brought himself back to reality. "You realize, sir, how improbable this claim of Jade's really is."
"Certainly it's improbable." Thrawn raised glowing eyes to Pellaeon.
"But it's also true." He tapped, a switch, and part of the art gallery vanished. "Observe.
Pellaeon turned to look. It was the same scene Thrawn had showed him a few days earlier: the three renegade Dreadnaughts providing cover fire off New Cov so that the Lady Luck and that unidentified freighter could escape He inhaled sharply, a sudden suspicion flooding into him. "Those ships?"
"Yes," Thrawn said, his voice grimly satisfied. "The differences between regular and slave-rigged Dreadnaughts are subtle, but visible enough when you know to look for them."
Pellaeon frowned at the holo, trying hard to fit all of it together.
"Your permission, Admiral, but it doesn't make sense for Karrde to be supplying this renegade Corellian with ships."
"I agree," Thrawn nodded. "Obviously, someone else from that ill-fated smuggling ship also realized what it was they'd stumbled across. We're going to find that someone."
"Do we have any leads?"
"A few. According to Jade, they escaped from an Imperial force on the way out of a botched job. All such incidents should be on file somewhere; we'll correlate with what we know about Karrde's checkered past and see what turns up. Jade also said that the ship was badly damaged in the process of doing its second jump. If they had to go to a major spaceport for repairs, that should be on file, as well."
"I'll put Intelligence on it immediately," Pellaeon nodded.
"Good." Thrawn's eyes unfocused for a moment. "And I also want you to get in contact with Niles Ferrier."
Pellaeon had to search his memory. "That ship thief you sent out to look for the Corellian's home base?"
"That's the one," Thrawn said. "Tell him to forget the Corellian and concentrate instead on Solo and Calrissian." He cocked an eyebrow. "After all, if the Corellian is indeed planning to join the Rebellion, what better dowry could he bring than the Katana fleet?"
The comm pinged. "Yes?" Thrawn asked.
"Sir, the target has made the jump to lightspeed," a voice reported.
"We've got a strong signal from the beacon; we're doing a probability extrapolation now.
"Very good, Lieutenant," Thrawn said. "Don't bother with any extrapolations just yet-she'll change course at least once more before settling down on her true heading."
"Yes,
sir."
"Still, we don't want her getting too far ahead of us," Thrawn told Pellaeon as he keyed off the comm. "You'd best return to the bridge, Captain, and get the Chimaera moving after her."
"Yes, sir." Pellaeon hesitated. "I thought we were going to give her time to get the Katana's location for us."
Thrawn's expression hardened. "She's not part of the Empire anymore, Captain," he said. "She may want us to believe that she's coming back-she may even believe it herself. But she isn't. No matter. She's leading us to Karrde, and that's the important thing. Between him and our Corellian renegade we have two leads to the Katana fleet. One way or the other, we'll find it." Pellaeon nodded, feeling the stirrings of excitement again despite his best efforts to remain unemotional about this. The Katana fleet. Two hundred Dreadnaughts, just sitting there waiting for the Empire to take possession...
"I have the feeling, Admiral," he said, "that our final offensive against the Rebellion may be ready to launch a bit ahead of schedule." Thrawn smiled. "I believe, Captain, that you may be right."
CHAPTER
18
They had been sitting around the table in the maitrakh's house since early morning, studying maps and floor plans and diagrams, searching for a plan of action that would be more than simply a complicated way of surrendering. Finally, just here noon, Leia called a halt. "I can't look at this anymore," she told Chewbacca, closing her eyes briefly and rubbing her thumbs against throbbing temples. "Let's go outside for a while." Chewbacca growled an objection. "Yes, of course there are risks," she agreed wearily. "But the whole village knows we're here, and no one's told the authorities yet. Come on; it'll be okay." Stepping to the door, she opened it and went out. Chewbacca grumbled under his breath, hut followed after her. The late morning sunshine was blazing brightly down, with only a scattering of high clouds to interfere. Leia glanced upward at the clear sky, shivering involuntarily at the sudden sensation of nakedness that flooded in on her. A clear sky, all the way up to space...but it was all right. A little before midnight the maitrakh had brought the news of the Star Destroyer's imminent departure, a departure which she and Chewbacca had been able to watch with the macrobinoculars from the Wookiee's kit. It had been their first break since Khabarakh's arrest: just as it had begun to look like she and Chewbacca would be pinned down here until it was too late, the Grand Admiral had abruptly left.