by Timothy Zahn
“Yes, they are keeping a close eye on you, Captain Calrissian,” Thrawn confirmed. “After that unpleasantness at Bilbringi, I’ve agreed to extra precautions. Not that I’m expecting trouble from any of you, of course.”
“Of course,” Lando said, turning back to look at him. It was a trick, of course. It had to be. Thrawn was dead. The Imperial Command itself had said so.
And yet …
“You look remarkably well, Admiral,” Miatamia said. “I must confess to my surprise at seeing you here.”
Thrawn smiled faintly. “My reappearance has surprised many others, Senator Miatamia. And will surprise a great many more in the days to come. However, I didn’t ask you aboard merely to toast my continued health. The actual reason—”
“How did you survive the Bilbringi shipyards?” Lando blurted. “The Imperial reports said you were dead.”
“You will not interrupt the Grand Admiral,” the major snapped, taking a step toward him.
“Peace, Major,” Thrawn said quietly, halting the other’s advance with an almost languid gesture. “Under the circumstances, a certain degree of shock is entirely forgivable.”
“Yet you do not answer his question,” Miatamia said.
It seemed to Lando that a faint flicker of distant pain touched the Grand Admiral’s face for a moment. “My survival was due to a unique combination of several factors,” he said. “You’ll forgive me if I withhold the details.”
“But your own Imperial reports?” Lando repeated.
“The Imperial reports said what I allowed them to say,” Thrawn said, his eyes starting to flash with annoyance. “It was necessary while I recovered that—”
He broke off. “Perhaps I’ve misjudged you, Captain,” he said, his voice calm again. “And you, Senator. I assumed that when you encountered a being returned from the dead you’d be more interested in what he had to say than the details of the journey. My mistake.” His eyes flicked over Lando’s shoulder. “Commander, you may escort them back to their ship. Major, have Intelligence confirm the current location of Ishori Senator Dx’ono.”
“Our apologies, Grand Admiral,” Miatamia said quickly as the stormtroopers started forward. “As you said, we were momentarily shocked. But we listen now.”
Thrawn lifted a hand, and the advancing stormtroopers stopped. “Very well,” he said. “My message is quite simple, Senator. You’ve recently become aware that a group of Bothans were involved in the attempted genocide on Caamas. I’ve come to offer my aid in bringing those guilty to justice.”
Miatamia inclined his head to the side, as if listening to a faint and distant sound. “Excuse me?”
“No, you heard correctly,” Thrawn assured him, that faint smile once again touching his lips. “I want to help.”
Miatamia twisted his head around to throw a glance back at Lando, turned back again. “How?”
“By identifying the guilty parties, of course,” the Grand Admiral said. “If President Gavrisom truly wishes this crisis resolved, he need only ask for my assistance. A visit to Bothawui, a few minutes’ conversation with each of the Bothan clan leaders, and I’ll know the truth.”
Miatamia inclined his head to the side again. “The Bothan leaders claim they do not know which of their people were involved in the crime.”
“Oh, come now, Senator,” Thrawn said, his tone dark and cold. “Do you really expect they would say anything else?”
Miatamia seemed to digest that. “And you believe you could learn the truth merely by speaking with them?”
The glowing red eyes glittered. “Yes.”
There was a brief silence. “Would it not be simpler for you to merely locate the proper Imperial records and give them to us?”
“Of course it would,” Thrawn said. “And such a search is already under way. But the Imperial records library on Bastion is quite extensive, and the process could take weeks or even months to complete.” He cocked a blue-black eyebrow. “I don’t believe you have that much time to spare.”
“You seem convinced that the New Republic is facing a serious crisis,” Miatamia said. “We have weathered other such crises in the past.”
“Your confidence is admirable,” Thrawn said, leaning back slightly in his seat. “But I’d advise that you relay my offer to the Rebellion leadership before rashly and unilaterally rejecting it.”
“I never stated that I rejected your offer, Grand Admiral,” Miatamia said.
Thrawn smiled. “No, of course you didn’t,” he said, his tone far more knowing than Lando found comfortable. “I would like nothing more than to continue this discussion, Senator—it’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of debating a trained Diamalan mind. But I have other matters to attend to, and you have a message to deliver. Commander, escort them back to their ship. Good-bye, Senator, Captain.”
“A question, Admiral, if I may,” Lando said quickly as the stormtroopers came up behind him. His mind was finally starting to unfreeze; and if this was a trick, this might be the only chance they’d have to unmask it. “I saw you once, from a distance, while you were in the company of the smuggler Talon Karrde. Can you tell me where that was and why you were there?”
Thrawn’s face hardened. “If this is a test, Captain, you’ve chosen your topic unwisely. I’ve spent a great deal of time during my recovery considering the proper payment to be exacted from Talon Karrde for his many betrayals. I do not like to be reminded of him, except to consider how short his remaining life is going to be. That message you may deliver.”
“I see,” Lando murmured, closing his mouth firmly. His reckless and odds-playing youth was far behind him, and the expression on Thrawn’s face was definitely the kind that discouraged further questions.
Once again, though, Miatamia was not so easily put off. “Yet you do not answer his question,” he pointed out.
The glowing red eyes shifted to the Diamal, and for a single awful moment Lando thought the Admiral was going to have the three of them gunned down right there and then. But to his relief, Thrawn merely smiled. “The Diamalan mind,” he said, his voice utterly calm again. “My apologies, Senator.”
He looked back at Lando. “You’re referring to my meeting with Karrde at his base on the planet Myrkr when I was searching for Luke Skywalker. You and someone else—General Solo, I assume—watched our landing from within the forest.”
Lando felt a cold chill run up his back. “You knew we were there?”
“I knew someone was there,” Thrawn said. “As I’m sure you know, select stormtroopers have extra sensor equipment built into their helmets. One of them caught a reflective glint from the macrobinoculars you were using.”
“Yet you did nothing?” Miatamia asked.
Thrawn shrugged slightly. “At the time I assumed it was merely some of Karrde’s people, set there to make sure my stormtroopers didn’t become, shall we say, overzealous. Given the density of foliage, even a heavy blaster would have been harmless against us from that position, so I ordered that the observers be left alone.”
His mouth hardened, just a bit. “Subsequent events, of course, showed the situation to have been otherwise. Does that satisfy your curiosity, Captain?”
Lando managed a nod. “Yes, Admiral. It does.”
“Good,” Thrawn said coolly. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen, and again my apologies for the unscheduled stop. Commander, see them to their ship.”
Thirty minutes later, seated at the Lady Luck’s helm, Lando watched as the Interdictor Cruiser and Star Destroyer made their synchronized jump to lightspeed. “As you said, Senator,” he murmured. “Sometimes the unanticipated will happen. I’m glad that those who are prepared will always find their way through.”
Miatamia said nothing. Perhaps, for once, he had nothing to say.
Grimacing, Lando keyed the board and swung the Lady Luck’s nose back on course for Coruscant. President Gavrisom wasn’t going to like this. Not one bit.
Neither would anyone else.
• • •
There hadn’t been any communications planned for this point in the plan. And yet, there was Major Tierce’s quarter-sized holographic image, flickering slightly above Moff Disra’s private hologram pod. “The transmission’s been secured,” Disra said, a cold blade-edge of dread grinding into his stomach as he watched the encryption display. If something had gone wrong … “What is it?”
“No problems, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Tierce said. “The whole operation went textdoc smooth.”
“I’m delighted to hear it,” Disra growled. “So why are you risking an open communication this way?”
“I knew you’d be worried,” Tierce said blandly. “I wanted to help set your mind at ease.”
Disra smiled sardonically, knowing the expression was probably wasted with a holo this size. “Thank you so much, Major—I do so appreciate your concern. So our puppet performed adequately?”
“I’d even go further and say he performed superbly,” Tierce said. “He had them in the palm of his hand from the moment they came in to the moment they left.”
“No surprises, then?”
“Not really. Calrissian tried to trap him with a question about the time Thrawn visited Talon Karrde on Myrkr. Fortunately for us, he’d actually read the detailed report I’d written up on my time with Thrawn and knew the answer.”
“Fortunately for him, you mean,” Disra said, putting an edge of threat into his voice. “How soon will you be back?”
“That’s the other reason I called,” Tierce said. “Now that we’re here, I think we’re going to stay in Rebellion-occupied space for a while.”
Disra frowned, the cold blade-edge starting its grinding again. “What for?”
“I’d like to nose around a bit,” the other said with a. casual wave of his hand. “Send activation signals to some of the sleeper groups we haven’t contacted yet—there are still a few we weren’t able to send transmissions to because of distance or positioning. Mostly, I want to see what Coruscant’s reaction will be to Thrawn’s reappearance.”
“Probably to send fifty Star Cruisers charging in at you,” Disra snapped. “This is crazy, Tierce. It’s also not part of the plan.”
“Military plans are always subject to change, Your Excellency,” Tierce said calmly.
“This is not what I had in mind for Flim,” Disra snarled. “You know that.”
“And you know that when I joined I said we could do better than what you had in mind,” Tierce countered.
Disra ground his teeth savagely. “You’re going to ruin everything. And get yourselves killed in the bargain.”
“On the contrary,” Tierce said, and even on the quarter-sized image Disra could see his self-satisfied smile. “I’m going to start the Empire back on its road to glory.”
“Tierce—”
“I have to go, Your Excellency,” Tierce said. “We shouldn’t stay on transmission too long, even with good encryption. Don’t worry, I’m not planning to take the Relentless to Coruscant or anything so foolish. I just want to spend a little more time here. Call it a hunch.”
“In my experience, relying on hunches is a fast trip to the short end of the odds,” Disra growled. But Tierce had him, and they both knew it. Short of sending what was left of the Braxant Sector Fleet to chase him down, there was precious little Disra could do at this point to countermand him. “How long are you planning to stay?”
Tierce shrugged. “A couple of weeks. Maybe more. It depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether I get the reaction I’m looking for. I’ll be sure to let you know if and when it happens.”
“Good,” Disra said sourly. “If and when the New Republic fleet appears over Bastion, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Tierce smiled. “Thank you, Your Excellency. I knew you’d understand. Good-bye.”
The image flickered and vanished. Disra leaned back in his chair, glaring at the hologram pod. This was getting out of hand. It was getting way out of hand. He’d let Tierce run off restrainer bolt long enough; it was time to reel the Guardsman in a little.
And remind him who was master and who was servant.
At the moment, Disra wasn’t exactly sure how to do that. But he would think of something.
CHAPTER
20
The Diamalan Senator finished his report and sat down again on the witness bench beside Lando … and for Leia, the Grand Convocation Chamber had suddenly become very cold.
The impossible had happened. Grand Admiral Thrawn had returned.
“I do not see the problem,” the Likashan Senator called out, her high-pitched voice making the chamber’s sound system squeal. “We are many; the Empire are few. Let us gather together and move against it. And this time, let us not stop until we have utterly destroyed it.”
“If you think that’s even an option anymore, then you’re a fool,” the Sronk Senator countered. “I saw full-left-handed what this Grand Admiral Thrawn did to my world’s defenses ten standardcycles ago, and with nothing more than seven Katana-fleet Dreadnaughts as his weapons. He wouldn’t have announced his return if he weren’t already prepared to receive the full slamming brunt of our closed right hand.”
“They have no more than a thousand worlds remaining,” a Senator who Leia couldn’t identify put in scornfully. “With no more than a hundred Star Destroyers and a few thousand lesser ships. Do you suggest that such a pitiful force could withstand the full thunder of our trampling hooves?”
“You do not know this Thrawn—”
“Please,” President Gavrisom cut in. “All of you. We of the Council certainly understand your concerns and your fears. However, at this point I would urge you to ponder this news without jumping to either hasty conclusions or premature actions.”
“A preemptive strike would not be a premature action,” a huffy voice insisted. “I agree with the Likashan Senator that we must move immediately against the remnants of the Empire.”
“Yes,” the Likash squealed. “Grand Admiral Thrawn nearly defeated us once; we cannot allow him the time he needs to attack us again.”
“He’s already had all the time he needs,” the Sronk shot back. “Weren’t you listening to what I said? He wouldn’t have revealed himself if he wasn’t ready for us.”
“But the situation isn’t the same as it was ten years ago,” Leia reminded them, striving to keep her own voice steady and to keep the growing sense of dread in the chamber from feeding into her own fears. “Back then Thrawn still had nearly a quarter of the old Empire to work with. As has already been pointed out, his resources are almost nonexistent now.”
“So let us take the rest away from him,” a voice shouted. “Let us destroy him now!”
“We cannot destroy him,” Gavrisom said. “Even if we wanted to, which I’m not yet convinced is the proper response to his offer.”
“Why not?” the Likash demanded. “The New Republic has far more warships than the Empire.”
The Maerdocian Senator roared something in his own language. “Do you imply you would seriously consider allowing him to interrogate New Republic officials?” the translation whispered in Leia’s ear. “That way lies madness.”
“He doesn’t want all of us,” the Kian’thar Senator pointed out. “He wants only the Bothans.”
There was another roar. “Do you genuinely believe it would end with the Bothans?” the translation demanded. “If so, your path is toward madness.”
Gavrisom tapped a key on his board, shutting down the chamber sound system. The shouting died reluctantly away, and he turned the system back on. “Please,” he said mildly. “Let us keep our focus clear in this debate. Certainly we have no intention of permitting an Imperial official to interrogate the leaders of any New Republic member world. However, it is equally unreasonable at this point to suggest a concerted attack against the Empire. While it is true that a state of war technically exists between us, recent hostilities have been few and mostly acci
dental. More to the point, even though our forces outnumber theirs, those forces are at the moment widely dispersed across the galaxy.”
He shook his mane in a gesture of mild reproof. “Attempting, as you are all aware, to bring some measure of stability to the New Republic against the stirrings of hundreds of threatening internal wars.”
“How ver’ conven’ent,” the Garoosh Senator half-whistled sarcastically. “For the Empire, a’ least.”
“They’re probably the ones inciting all the wars,” someone suggested with obvious contempt. “That would be just like Thrawn’s style. Fanning the fires of stupid hatred and primitive genocidal nonsense—”
“Do not call our long struggle stupid,” the Forshul Senator rumbled. “And as for genocide, I find it highly significant that our oppressors the Prosslee stand ready to excuse the Bothans’ own actions against the Caamasi. It is the duty of all right-thinking beings to recognize such an attitude as a danger, not only to my people but also to all of Yminis sector—”
Gavrisom touched the cutoff switch again, and the Forshul’s voice dropped into a distant and indistinct voice booming from her section of the chamber. “I thank the Senator from Yminis sector for her comments,” the President said. “I would also remind her that this is not the time for such speeches.”
“President Gavrisom, I would speak,” a familiar voice simmering with familiar anger rolled across the chamber, filling the space even with the sound system turned off.
Leia looked that direction. Ghic Dx’ono, the Ishori Senator, was on his feet, his whole body trembling with the physical rage that in his species always accompanied deep thought. “You may speak,” Gavrisom told him, turning the sound system on again. “I would caution you that as this chamber does not wish to hear a tirade against the Prosslee, we also do not wish to hear one against the Diamala.”
“I intend no tirade,” Dx’ono barked. “I wish merely to remind the chamber that we have only the Diamalan Senator’s word that he did indeed face this Thrawn. I would also remind the Senators that he ended his testimony moments ago with an urging that we put the Bothan matter behind us—without punishing the guilty—in order that we might face this supposed new threat.”