Vision of the future

CHAPTER

39

The sentinel droid continued its attack, systematically sending its fiery bolts of death in Mara's direction. Her lightsaber leaped to meet each one, hands twisting and turning and jabbing the weapon at the guidance of the Force.

She knew her hands were moving, just as she knew that her teeth were clenched tightly together and that there were drops of sweat rolling down her face. But she couldn't feel them. Couldn't feel any of it. So focused was her mind, so locked into the terrible struggle for survival, that there was nothing else in the universe that seemed able to penetrate into her consciousness. Not the rest of the chamber, not the shape of the sentinel dimly visible behind the dazzling glare of the blaster bolts, not even her own body. Nothing but the blasters and her lightsaber.

And Luke.

It was a strange sensation, the small part of her mind that was still free to wonder about such things realized. Standing back to back, stretched out so deeply together to the Force, it was as if their minds had literally melded together to become a single entity. She could feel his mental and physical strain as he maintained his own defense; could sense his reliance on the Force, and his desperate search for a plan to get them out of this, and his deep concern for the woman standing there with him. In one way it was almost like a logical extension of the brief emotional contacts they'd had throughout this trip. But in another way it was something completely new, like nothing she'd ever before experienced.

Because within the depth of that mental rapport, she suddenly and totally knew Luke Skywalker. Knew everything about him: his hopes and fears; his successes and failures; his strengths and weaknesses; his highest joys and his deepest and most private sorrows. She saw into his innermost spirit, to the depths of his heart, to the very core of his being.

And she knew that even as he lay open before her eyes, so also her heart and spirit were open before his.

Yet it wasn't frightening or humiliating as she might have expected. As she would have expected. It was instead something completely exhilarating. Never before had she experienced such a depth and closeness to another person, a person who understood her as intimately as she understood him. Never had she known such a relationship could even exist.

And never before had she realized how badly she wanted such a relationship. And that was in its way the most surprising part of all: to suddenly realize after so many years how much her determination to lock herself away from others had ended up hurting her. Had stunted her own growth and life just as her stubborn refusal to accept the responsibility of her Jedi abilities had limited their growth.

It was an amazing insight, particularly coming as it did in the midst of the fire and heat of a battle. She could only regret that the understanding hadn't come to her sooner, instead of now. Now that she was about to die.

Because her death was indeed close at hand, one way or another. Already she could feel her muscles tiring before the sentinel's onslaught, and knew that she couldn't maintain her defense more than a few minutes more at the most. She had to act now, while she still had the strength to do so, or Luke would die, too.

Because while the plan she'd come up with might— might—eliminate the threat from the sentinel in front of her, there was no way she could take out both of its blasters fast enough to keep a killing shot from reaching her. Fleetingly, she thought of Corran Horn and his ability to absorb and dissipate energy; but that had never been one of her talents, and there was certainly no time for her to learn the technique now. No, she would throw her lightsaber at her chosen target, and the sentinel would shoot her, and she would die. All she could hope for was to cling to life long enough to finish what had to be done.

No, Mara. No! Was that her thought? she wondered. Or was it Luke's?

I have to, Luke. That one was hers. Through her own fears and regrets she could feel his sudden surge of desperate emotion as he tried to come up with a way she would not have to die. But there wasn't one. Mara had already considered every possibility, and there simply wasn't any way Luke could hold off four blasters by himself when two of them were firing at his back this way. But if she could just live long enough to carry this through, using her body to shield him until the sentinel facing her could be eliminated...

While I still have the strength, she reminded herself. And the time was now. She took a deep breath—

No! the emotion broke through her black determination. Wait. Look. She had no attention to spare to look anywhere but at the sentinel and its blasters. But she didn't have to. Luke had already seen the critical new factor, and now the image flowed through the Force into her mind.

Off to her right, his little electric arc welder extended ahead of him like a weapon, Artoo was rolling determinedly along the upper floor ring toward her attacker.

Her first thought was to wonder what in blazes had taken the little droid so long to get his metal rear over to help, only then realizing how little time had actually elapsed since the battle began. Her second, somewhat irreverent thought was to note that Artoo had chosen her sentinel to attack instead of Luke's, and to wonder if the Skywalker tendency toward overprotectiveness had rubbed off on him.

Her third thought was that Luke was right. This might be the break she needed, the opening for her plan to succeed without her having to die in the process.

Maybe.

Artoo was almost to the sentinel now, a bluish spark arcing across the welder contacts. The sentinel was perfectly aware of him, of course; the only question was what it would do about it... And then an image flashed into Mara's mind. A picture of her and Luke lying on the floor amid the tangle of trip cords down there.

She felt herself gasp. Was that a vision of the future, of them lying dead together? Was her plan doomed to failure?

You see? Luke's emotion broke through the sudden fear. You understand?

And then the image cleared, and she indeed saw what he meant. Not a vision of death, but a hope of life: Luke's own last-second contribution to her plan. Got it, she sent back her understanding. Get ready...

She felt her teeth clenching even harder, lightsaber still flashing against the sentinel's attacks, and prepared herself. Artoo was almost to the sentinel, his arc welder still sparking—

And with a casual and contemptuous ease, the sentinel swung its left arm over, placed the side of the blaster in that hand against Artoo's dome, and shoved the little droid over to land flat on his back. And for that half second, only one of his blasters was firing.

Now!

Mara reacted instantly, letting her right leg collapse beneath her to send her toppling over onto her right side. Luke fell right along with her, his back pressed against hers the whole way down. They hit the floor—there was probably a jolt of pain in her shoulder from the impact, but Mara wasn't aware of it—and Luke flipped over onto his back to face upward toward the ceiling. And with that single move suddenly there were no longer two attacks coming from totally opposite directions. Now, it was merely two attacks coming from a pair of widely spaced opponents, both of whom were effectively in front of him.

And that was something he could handle.

Go! his command came as the green-white of his lightsaber flashed past over her head, deflecting a shot away from her face. Mara didn't need the prompting; already her lightsaber was spinning its way toward the sentinel. A quick slash, and the blaster in its right hand had shattered to uselessness. Its other hand was already swinging back toward her; the lightsaber changed direction and slashed again, and the sentinel's second blaster was similarly gone.

There was a short, rumbling roar from the big droid—apparently it had enough sentience to be annoyed at having been outmaneuvered this way. But it was also smart enough to know the disadvantage was only temporary, that her lightsaber couldn't harm it directly, at least not fast enough to do any good.

And its designers had also clearly prepared for such an eventuality. Two more compartments along its lower sides had popped open, and the sentinel's hands were already digging into them for another set of replacement weapons.

But with luck, it would never have a chance to use them. Mara had already brought her lightsaber around in front of the sentinel, turning it to point blade-first toward the big droid. Now, grunting with the effort, she drove it forward.

Not uselessly into the sentinel and its cortosis-ore shell, but straight past it, burying the blue-white blade in the water-stained wall behind it.

The jet of water that burst out around the handle was instant and violent, some of the spray reaching all the way to where she and Luke lay on the floor thirty meters away. Mara felt a sudden twinge of uneasiness at the force of the flow; but it was too late to stop now. Holding the weapon in against the pressure, she spun it around in a ten-centimeter-diameter circle, the hilt more than once nearly vanishing from her view behind the widening spray of water coming out through the crack she was cutting. The sentinel turned its head to see what was happening; lifted its blasters toward the lightsaber—

And with a last burst of effort, Mara finished the cut.

The stone plug came blasting out of the wall with the speed of a proton torpedo, slamming directly into the sentinel's thick torso with armor-crushing force and knocking the big droid helplessly off the upper ring down onto the main floor. Mara caught a glimpse of crumpled metal; saw that the stream of water that had driven the plug was now shooting across the room over her head—

And suddenly a foam-crested wave slammed into and over her from the opposite direction. With her mind still in the tunnel vision of Jedi defense mode, the wave caught her completely off-guard. She felt herself being lifted and thrown by the wild surf as her feet were somehow pushed clear of the tangling trip cords, and scrabbled madly for something to hang on to. Her left hand caught another bunch of the cords, and she hung on grimly, trying to orient herself. Another wave washed over her, tearing her grip away, and once again she found herself being spun around in the turbulence. She clawed her way to the surface, caught a breath that seemed to be half air and half foam, shook the water out of her eyes to see another wave surging toward her—

And then a pair of hands caught her under the arms, and with a tug that felt like it was going to tear her in half she was suddenly arcing upward through the air. There was a jolt as her back slammed into something hard—one of the two hands holding her fell away as the other tightened its grip—

"Here—hold on," Luke shouted in her ear.

She half turned in his single-handed grip, saw the railing to the upper equipment balcony there beside her, and grabbed on to it. "Got it."

"Hang on—I'm going back for Artoo." Letting go of the railing, he dropped back into the water. With an effort, Mara pulled herself up the railing and over onto the balcony floor. Below her, she could see, the room had become a surging mass of frothing water.

And it was filling up fast. Much faster than it should have, she realized uneasily. And suddenly she saw why. The small, neat hole she'd cut in the wall was no longer either small or neat. Four or five square meters of the water-stained section had given way around it, and the Lake of Small Fish was pouring in through the opening. Already it was halfway up the wall to the ledge where she sat...

A movement across the room caught her eye: Luke, hanging on to some protrusion in the wall, waving toward her. "I'm here," she shouted over the roar of the water. "What do you need?" In answer, the top of Artoo's dome rose a few centimeters over the waves. Bracing herself, Mara stretched out with the Force and lifted the droid toward her.

It was harder than she'd expected it to be. Far harder than it ought to have been. The droid rose over the water with agonizing slowness, and twice during the procedure she nearly lost her grip entirely. Clearly, the battle with the sentinel droids had taken more out of her than she'd realized. But finally she made it, and the droid settled down with a pensive gurgle beside her. He'd been battered around by the water and had lost the datapad they'd rigged to him for translation, but otherwise he seemed all right. She looked back down, searching for Luke—

A hand slapped up to a grip on the bottom rail. "You get Artoo up?" Luke gasped, pulling himself laboriously up the railing.

"He's right here," Mara confirmed, reaching over the railing to give him a hand. "You okay?"

"Just fine," he panted as he made it over the railing and collapsed onto the balcony beside her.

"Lesson number one," he added between breaths. "A Jedi needs air to function properly."

"I'll make a note," Mara said, peering down through the railing again. "What about that second sentinel?"

"I took care of him," Luke said. Already he was breathing easier. "Here's your lightsaber," he added, pulling both weapons from inside his tunic and handing hers over. "Good job with the wall, by the way."

"Oh, sure—great job," Mara retorted. "There's nothing so brilliant as a plan that ends up almost drowning you. Speaking of which, shouldn't we be getting out of here before it gets any deeper?" There was a brief pause. "Well, actually..."

She looked at him, a sudden flicker of fear touching her heart. "What's the matter?" He reached over and took her hand. "I'm sorry, Mara," he said. "The water's already above the level of the tunnel. It's already filling that underground room back there." Mara stared at him—she'd had no idea the water was coming in that fast. "All right," she said, forcing her voice to stay calm. Forcing her mind to stay calm. "All right. So the room's filling up. If we can make it across to the stairway, we can at least climb up into the fortress, right?" A muscle in his cheek twitched. "You don't understand," he said. "It's already above the level of the tunnel. That means traveling that whole hundred meters without air, plus probably having to get the whole way across the underground room, too."

"What about a hibernation trance?" Mara suggested. "Like the one you used to cold-shirt it across to the Starry Ice from the pirate base?"

Luke shook his head. "With the underground room filling up, or maybe already mostly full, the water won't be flowing fast enough through the tunnel to push us through in time." And it was for sure they couldn't swim while in a trance. Mara pushed a lock of wet hair off her face, trying to think.

Beside Luke, Artoo gave a sudden nervous squawk. "I see it," Luke told him.

"See what?" Mara asked.

"The water level's starting to rise again," he said reluctantly. "That means the underground room must be full. The only drainage we're getting is through the two holes we cut, the one into the stairway area and the one back down into the caverns."

Mara swallowed. "Small holes."

"Far too small to handle the amount coming in," Luke agreed soberly. "I'm afraid..." He trailed off. Mara gazed down at the surging water, now high enough to hide the inflow through the hole she'd cut. But it was still coming in; the steady rippling in the surface was enough to show that. "Back when you first came here," she said, "I told you you could go back to Coruscant if you wanted to and let the Qom Jha and me tackle the fortress by ourselves. You said no, that you had to be here, and you said not to ask you why."

He took a deep breath. "I had a vision of you on Tierfon," he said quietly. "Back before I knew you'd disappeared. I saw you lying in a pool of water, surrounded by craggy rock." He hesitated.

"And you looked..."

"Dead?"

He sighed. "Yes."

For a long moment they sat there together, the rushing of water the only sound. "Well, I guess that's that, then," Mara said at last. "At least I have the minor satisfaction of knowing I did it to myself."

"Don't give up yet," Luke said. But there was no particular hope in his voice that she could detect.

"There has to be a way out of this."

"Too bad, too," Mara said. She looked at him, tracing the contours of his face with her eyes.

"You didn't know, but after that pirate base thing, Faughn told me you and I made a good team. She was right. We really did."

"We really do," Luke corrected, looking almost nervously into her eyes. "You know, when we were fighting those sentinels down there, something happened to me. To us. We were so close in the Force that it was like we'd become a single person. It was... it was something very special." She lifted an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement worming its way through even the deadly seriousness of the situation. There was such an oddly awkward earnestness to his expression.

"Really?" she said. "How special?"

He grimaced. "You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?" he growled.

"Oh, come now," she said, mock accusingly. "When have I ever made anything easy for you?"

"Not very often," he conceded. Visibly bracing himself, he reached over and took her hands again. "Mara... will you marry me?"

"You mean if we get out of here alive?"

Luke shook his head. "I mean regardless."

Under other circumstances, she knew, she would probably have considered herself honor-bound to make him sweat, just a little. But with the water still rising below them, such games seemed rather pointless. Besides, there was no reason for old defensive patterns to come into play. Not now. Not with him. "Yes," she said. "I will."

CHAPTER

40

A blast of turbolaser fire shot past, burning a scorch line in the Predominance's bridge canopy. It was like an omen, Leia thought darkly as she stepped past the outer monitor ring and into the central control cluster: an omen of her own impending downfall. What she was about to do, she knew, would most likely be the end of her political career. It could possibly send her to a penal colony. It could even cost her her life.

But Han's own life was hanging in the balance. Against that, nothing else mattered. She stopped behind the Ishori at the helm station and looked over his shoulder at his control board. The indicators and controls were labeled in Ishori, of course, but the board itself was a straight Kuat Drive Yards design and she knew the layout. Taking a deep breath, she stretched out to the Force and keyed the sublight drive lever.

The helmsman himself was the first to notice something was wrong. Rumbling something under his breath, he pulled the lever back to its original position. Leia pushed it forward again, this time also laying in a new ship's vector toward the comet blazing in the distance. The helmsman rumbled again, louder this time, and again grabbed the lever.

Except that this time it didn't move. Leia held it firm against his struggles; and as he paused, confused, she took the opportunity to push it still farther forward. The helmsman swiveled in his seat to look at Captain Av'muru—

And out of the corner of his eye he spotted Leia standing behind him.

"What do you do here?" he shouted, swiveling farther around to glare up at her. "Guards!" Leia turned. Two guards were striding toward her, blasters in hand. Stretching out again to the Force, she plucked the blasters away from them and slammed the weapons straight down to the deck with shattering force.

"Councilor!" Av'muru shouted, jumping up from his seat. "What are you doing?" Leia didn't answer, but reached again for the speed control. "No!" the helmsman screamed, leaping out of his chair with his hands reaching for her throat.

The clutching fingers never got there. Leia caught him in midair in a Force grip, redirecting the direction of his leap to send him soaring instead over the monitor ring to land in a confused heap at the back of the bridge.

"Guards!" Av'muru shouted. "All guards!"

Leia turned back to the helm, again increasing the ship's speed. Her senses flared with warning, and she snatched up her lightsaber just as two other guards on the far side of the room brought their blasters up. They fired, their stun bolts scattering uselessly from her glowing blade. Again she snatched the weapons away, this time bringing them flying across the bridge toward her and slicing them neatly in half with her lightsaber.

"You will stop this at once," Av'muru snarled, stalking with an even, deliberate pace toward her.

"Otherwise, I will declare a state of war to exist between the Ishori Confederene and the New Republic."

"This entire system is in deadly danger," Leia said in a loud voice. "You've refused to take steps to oppose this danger. I have therefore done so in your place."

"You risk war between Isht and Coruscant," Av'muru shouted, still coming toward her. "You have until I reach you to cease this action and return this vessel to my command." Out of the corner of her eye, Leia saw Gavrisom trotting over toward Av'muru's side... and there was now exactly one card left for her to play. "There is no need or reason to involve the New Republic," she told the Ishori. "I hearby resign from the High Council, and the Senate, and the Presidency. I am no longer anything but a private citizen."

"Then you also renounce all diplomatic privileges," Av'muru snapped. Gavrisom had reached his side now, pulling slightly ahead of the Ishori as the two of them continued toward Leia. From Gavrisom's gait, Leia could tell he was trying to reach her first. Probably hoping to stop her himself, with an eye toward minimizing the political damage to the New Republic that she had just caused. But it was too late for that, and Gavrisom surely knew it. "You are aboard an Ishori war vessel," Av'muru continued. "The penalty for mutiny aboard such a vessel is death." Leia felt her throat tighten. And that, she realized bleakly, was that. The captain had spoken the word "mutiny," automatically invoking the highest level of Ishori war-law. If she didn't back down before Av'muru reached her, he would have no choice but to bring the entire might of his warship to bear against her.

Could they stop her? Probably not. Certainly not before they reached the comet. But at what cost? Though she could hold them back, she could almost certainly not do so without the eventual shedding of blood. And if her actions led to death, even deaths from ricochet shots from their own weapons, her fate would be sealed. The strict code of Ishori war-justice would demand her death in return.

And for the sake of unity within the New Republic, she would have to submit. Av'muru and Gavrisom were nearly to her now...

And then, to Leia's amazement, Gavrisom turned sideways and abruptly stopped, his long flank stretching across the aisle between two consoles, blocking Av'muru's way. "I think not, Captain," he said calmly. "I am declaring this war vessel to be under direct New Republic command."

"So it is treason from the New Republic Presidency as well?" Av'muru screamed, trying to push Gavrisom bodily out of his way. "Move aside or die alongside her."

"There is no treason involved," Gavrisom said. His voice was still calm, but he hadn't budged a millimeter. "Unless you bring such a charge upon yourself by refusing an official New Republic emergency requisition of your vessel as per Section 45-2 of the Treaties of Allegiance." Abruptly Av'muru stopped pushing. "You speak nonsense," he said, screaming now at the top of his lungs. "There has been no official requisition."

"The Treaties are vague about how such a requisition is to be made," Gavrisom said coolly.

"Deliberately so, for an emergency situation by its very nature requires flexibility." He waved a wing toward Leia. "In this case, the requisition began when High Councilor Organa Solo—"

"She is no longer a High Councilor, by her own statement!"

"When High Councilor Organa Solo," Gavrisom repeated, emphasizing each word, "began moving this vessel toward a perceived source of danger."

Av'muru glared at Gavrisom, transferred the look to Leia, turned it back on Gavrisom again. "You cannot seriously believe the Confederene will accept such a ludicrous claim," he bellowed.

"What they will or will not accept is a matter for future discussion," Gavrisom pointed out.

"Regretfully, the Diamalan jamming has eliminated any chance for you to communicate with your governments for counsel."

He tossed his mane. "It is your decision, Captain. You must base it on the requirements of the law, my position as New Republic President, and the word of a Jedi Knight that your ship is in deadly danger."

Av'muru was trembling with emotion, his eyes flicking back and forth between Gavrisom, Leia, and the view out the canopy. Leia stole a glance out there herself, confirmed that the Predominance was indeed moving toward the comet.

"Helmsman?" Av'muru shouted.

"Here, my captain," the other replied, stepping hesitantly forward.

"Resume your post," Av'muru ordered, his voice starting to calm down. "Continue on the course which the Jedi Knight Organa Solo has put us on." He paused. "And increase to flank speed."

"Yes, my captain," the helmsman said, brushing gingerly past Gavrisom as the Calibop moved aside. Leia stepped aside as well, and he sat warily down in his seat again. " 'Course and speed as ordered, my captain."

"Come, Councilor," Gavrisom said, gesturing to Leia with one of his wing tips. "Let us move back out of their way."

Together, they retreated again behind the monitor ring. "Thank you," Leia said quietly.

"I was only doing my job," Gavrisom said. "I have often heard it said that Calibops are long on words and short on deeds."

He ruffled his mane. "Sometimes, though, it is the words that must come first."

"Yes," Leia murmured, gazing out the canopy at the comet. She could only hope that the deeds that followed would be in time.

* * *

"We have them both, Captain," the starboard tractor beam officer called up to the command walkway. "Two freighters: a YT-1300 and a Corellian Action II."

"Very good," Nalgol said, still seething over the unexpected and unannounced change in their carefully precise schedule. The strike team on the surface, he promised himself ominously, would have some serious explaining to do when this was all over.

But in the meantime, the Tyrannic was ready to do whatever needed to be done. And the first job on that list would be to take care of those spies out there. "Bring them in closer, Lieutenant," he called. "Make sure they don't break away."

"They won't, sir," the tractor officer promised.

Nalgol felt a movement beside him. "You sent for me, Captain?" Oissan said.

"That priority/threat list I asked for," Nalgol said shortly. "Where is it?"

"The preliminary list has been filed," Oissan said, sounding a bit flustered. "We were expecting to have more time to complete it."

"Well, you didn't, did you?" Nalgol bit out, thoroughly disgusted. First the strike team, now Oissan. "Get back to work. We still have an hour or two before the battle out there winds down to where we'll be entering it."

"Yes, sir," Oissan said stiffly. "Will you be wanting my staff to interrogate the prisoners?"

"What prisoners?"

"Why—" Oissan floundered. "The crews of those freighters out there." Nalgol shook his head. "There will be no prisoners."

"But you said—"

"I said to bring them closer, that's all," Nalgol cut him off tartly. "I don't want any debris floating outside the cloaking shield where someone might notice it."

He looked back out the viewport. The YT-1300 was twisting madly in the grip of the tractor beam, still trying to escape, the larger Action II curiously quiet. "Another minute or two," he added,

"and they'll be taken care of. Permanently."

* * *

"There!" Lando snapped, pointing out the Industrious Thoughts's viewport. "Didn't I tell you?

The Ishori have recognized the danger and are heading out to take a look."

"They are merely running in an attempt to save their skins," Senator Miatamia countered calmly.

"Or else feel that the heightened maneuverability available in deep space will serve their defense better."

"Fine," Lando said. "Either way, you can't just let them go."

"The Diamala seek no vengeance against anyone," the Senator said. "We have thwarted their unprovoked attack against Bothawui. That is sufficient for now."

"But what about the threat I warned you about?" Lando demanded. "We bet on it, remember?"

"If such a threat exists, and if the Ishori are indeed searching for it, they will surely discover it on their own," Miatamia said equably. "There is no reason for any Diamalan ships to expose themselves to danger."

Lando glared out the viewport at the departing ship. However she'd done it, Leia had gotten the Predominance to move against the comet and whatever surprise the Imperials had hidden out there. But with Thrawn pulling the strings, the surprise was likely to be a memorable one. Almost certainly too big for a single Ishori war cruiser to handle by itself... "I see," he said, striving to keep his voice casual, the tone of a disinterested party who has nothing to gain one way or the other. "I'm sure the Ishori are just as happy to get away from you, too."

"What does it matter how the Ishori see things?" Miatamia said.

"Oh, no reason," Lando said with a shrug. "I was just thinking that if they decided they wanted to make a real fight of it, they'd need to call in reinforcements. And of course, once they're out of range of your jamming, they'll be able to do that."

Miatamia's ears curled over. "Surely they would not do such a thing."

"Why not?" Lando said. "Remember, they think the whole Bothan species should pay for their part in the destruction of Caamas. If I were them, I'd figure that the space over Bothawui would be the perfect spot to hash out their differences with the Diamala."

He nodded back in the direction of the planet beneath them. "Especially with part of the planetary shield collapsed the way it is. Any battle debris that falls through that hole is just a bonus as far as they're concerned."

Miatamia was already at the intercom, speaking urgently into it. Lando stared out the viewport, holding his breath...

And then, to starboard and portside, he saw the other two Diamalan ships turn ponderously toward the departing Ishori war cruiser and begin to give chase. A moment later, he felt the slight tug of acceleration as the Industrious Thoughts followed suit.

"We will keep them silent until the Drev'starn shield generator is repaired," Miatamia said, rejoining Lando. "But when that is done, they will be free to leave if they wish."

"Good enough," Lando said. "You're just bringing the three ships?" Miatamia gazed out the viewport. "I have suggested to the captain that all Diamalan ships also be summoned to our side."

"Just in case I'm right after all?"

The Senator's ears twitched. "As I have said to you before, the unanticipated may sometimes happen," he said evenly. "The Diamala believe in being prepared for such an eventuality."

* * *

"Hang on," Han gritted, throwing the Falcon hard over first to starboard and then to port. No good; the tractor beam still had a solid grip on them. Reaching to the weapons board, he shifted the aim of the upper quad laser, now firing continuously toward the Star Destroyer. Like the swivel maneuver, all the firepower was doing no good, either.

"The portside stabilizer is flickering again," Elegos announced, peering at the monitor displays.

"You may do serious damage to it if you continue this way."

Han bit back a curse. Yes, he might blow the stabilizers. He might also burn out a section of the sublight drive, or melt the quads, or even crack the hull.

But he had no choice but to do whatever was necessary to get clear, even if he had to tear the life out of the Falcon to do it. A cloaked Star Destroyer meant an ambush... and the last thing an ambushing Imperial would want would be to leave witnesses behind.

Elegos, though, hadn't figured that one out yet. "Perhaps we should attempt to surrender," the Caamasi suggested.

"Yeah?" Han grunted. "Why?"

"To prevent our destruction, of course," Elegos said. "Besides, Carib and his group seem to have already done that."

"What do you mean?" Han asked, frowning as he searched the sky. Preoccupied with his own part of the fight, he'd completely lost track of the Action II.

"I mean they aren't struggling against the tractor beam," Elegos explained, pointing out the viewport.

He was right. There was Carib's freighter, a little to starboard and considerably closer to the dark hull than the Falcon was. Making no attempt at all to escape.

But that didn't make sense. Surely Carib knew even better than he did that there was going to be no such thing as surrender here. Had he and the others already been killed?

Or had their newly professed allegiance to Leia and the New Republic never been anything more than a trick?

"Solo?" a voice crackled out from the speaker. "This is Carib. Get ready."

"Get ready for what?"

"What do you think?" Carib retorted. "And look; if we don't make it, I want you to see to it that our families are taken care of. Deal?"

Han threw a frown at Elegos. What in space—?

"We have a deal," Elegos called toward the comm, looking as puzzled as Han felt but apparently willing to play along. "Don't worry."

"All right. It's been nice knowing you."

The comm clicked off. Han stared out at the freighter, a sudden premonition sending a chill up his back—

And then, all at once, the Action II exploded.

Beside him, he heard Elegos gasp. "What—?"

"Just watch," Han cut him off, gripping the helm yoke. "And like the man said, get ready." The flare and dust of the explosion cleared, blown away by the expanding air from inside or snatched away by the tractor beam—

And suddenly, from the cloud of debris, a dozen TIE Interceptors burst out. It took the Imperials no more than five seconds to react to this new and completely unexpected threat. But in this case, five seconds was far too long. The TIEs swarmed close in across the hull, dodging through the frantic turbolaser fire with casual ease, systematically blasting the tractor beam emplacements.

Han watched in fascination, memories of Baron Fel's legendary flying skill flooding back. Only this time, it was a dozen Baron Fels running interference for him.

And with a jolt that cracked his teeth together, the Falcon was free.

"Hang on!" he snapped, cutting the ship around in a tight circle and pouring power to the sublight drive. The Star Destroyer's turbolasers were starting to open up behind him now as they saw their quarry escaping, and he threw the Falcon into a corkscrewing evasive maneuver as he drove hard toward the invisible edge of the cloaking shield. "You still have the comm ready to transmit to those idiots over Bothawui?" he added, watching the rear deflector indicator warily. If the shields collapsed before they made it out, the Imperials could still win.

"I'm ready," Elegos said. "As soon as—"

He broke off with a gasp. Han twisted his head to the side as the familiar shape of a TIE

Interceptor suddenly appeared alongside. Reflexively, he grabbed for the weapons board—

And relaxed just in time. Emblazoned on the TIE's solar panels was the New Republic insignia. Beyond the TIE the rest of Carib's unit was forming up on his flank—

And suddenly the darkness around them vanished, and they were surrounded by stars again.

"That's it," he said. "Get busy with the comm."

Elegos cleared his throat. "I don't believe," he said, "that that will be necessary." Puzzled, Han turned to look.

And caught his breath. Driving resolutely toward them from the direction of Bothawui were a group of over a dozen heavy warships.

The comm crackled. "Han?" Lando's voice came.

"Yeah, Lando," Han called back. "Watch yourselves—there's an Imperial Star Destroyer under that cloaking shield."

"Understood," Lando said. "Are those TIE interceptors with you?" Han smiled grimly. "You bet they are. Can you whistle up some more help?"

"Captain Solo, this is Senator Miatamia," a new voice spoke up. "We are transmitting your warning to all ships allied to the Diamala and requesting their assistance."

"Great," Han said. "I suggest you invite the Ishori in on this party, too. We're going to need all the help we can get."

"Han?" Leia's voice cut in, sounding breathless and relieved and tense all at the same time. "Han, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, hon," he assured her. "You still with the Ishori?"

"Yes," she said. "The captain's still not sure—"

She broke off abruptly. "Leia?" Han barked.

"Never mind," she said, a sudden grim tone in her voice. "I don't think he has any doubts anymore."

Han frowned, swinging the Falcon around in a tight circle and looking back. The Star Destroyer, its ambush now thwarted, had dropped its cloaking shield.

Only it wasn't just a single Star Destroyer pulling away from the comet toward the incoming fleet. It was three of them.

He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Now it's a fight."

CHAPTER

41

"Report from Base Command, Admiral," the comm officer called from the portside crew pit.

"Enemy Star Destroyer has disabled two more of the tractor beam emplacements."

"Have repairs begun immediately on those emplacements, Lieutenant," Thrawn said coolly. "And order Base Command to lock three more beams onto the target."

Standing a little way off to Disra's left, just aft of the command walkway, Paloma D'asima muttered something under her breath to Karoly D'ulin. "A question?" Disra asked, taking a step toward the two Mistryl.

The older woman nodded toward Thrawn. "I was telling Karoly I don't like any of this," she said, her tone disgusted. "He's playing with them. Why not just blast them and be done with it?"

"Grand Admiral Thrawn is a very subtle man," Disra said, hoping the loftiness of his tone would discourage her from asking questions he couldn't answer. As a matter of fact, he didn't understand what Tierce had in mind with this one, either. But the major was standing straight and tall at Thrawn's side, exactly as a good aide should, so presumably everything was still going according to plan. Thrawn must have overheard the comment. He murmured something to Tierce, got a nod of agreement, and the major turned and walked back to where Disra and the two Mistryl stood.

"Admiral Thrawn heard your question and asked me to come explain his reasoning to you," he said, stepping to D'asima's side where he could talk to her while still keeping an eye on Bel Iblis's attempts to break free of the trap. "He isn't interested in destroying General Bel Iblis, you see. On the contrary, he wants the general to surrender his ship and crew intact."

He gestured toward the multiple turbolaser blasts. "But as you can also see, Bel Iblis is a proud and stubborn man. He has to be convinced first that he has no chance against the resources of this base. Admiral Thrawn is therefore giving him a chance to do his best against us."

"Showing him the futility of resistance," D'asima said. She still didn't sound exactly pleased, but at least the disgust was no longer evident in her tone. "And adding salt to the sore by increasing the number of tractor beams each time Bel Iblis knocks one out."

"Exactly," Tierce said, beaming. "Admiral Thrawn has always been one to treat even his enemies with respect."

"Though naturally he treats his allies far better," Disra put in. It wouldn't hurt to remind D'asima why she was here in the first place.

"Admiral?" the comm officer called again. "We're getting a direct transmission from the perimeter defense coordinator. He urgently requests your assistance in dealing with the X-wings that have broken through his line."

Disra threw a startled look at Tierce behind D'asima's head. "X-wings?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Tierce replied, his voice taut. He made as if to hurry back to Thrawn's side, checked himself just in time at a quick warning glare from Disra. It wouldn't do, the Moff had already warned them both, for Tierce to look too vital to the operation. The con man up there knew how to get him back if he needed him.

But for the moment, at least, their Grand Admiral seemed to have it under control. "What X-wings are those, Lieutenant?" he asked, his voice calm but with an edge to it.

"He says he reported the penetration to General Hestiv over ten minutes ago," the comm officer said, sounding confused. "They apparently sneaked in behind one of our freighters."

"One of our freighters?" Thrawn asked.

"An Imperial freighter, sir," the officer corrected himself hastily. "Supply run, probably. The coordinator reports it was running all the proper access codes."

"I'm sure it was," Thrawn said, his glowing eyes flashing. "And General Hestiv just happened to forget to pass this information on to us, did he?"

His gaze shifted around, fell on Tierce. "Major Tierce?"

"Yes, sir," Tierce said, stepping briskly forward at the cue. "Shall I locate that freighter for you?"

"Please," Thrawn said gravely, picking up on the cue in turn.

And then, still looking back in their direction, the glowing eyes suddenly widened. Disra frowned—

"Don't trouble yourself, Major," a familiar voice called from behind Disra. "The freighter in question is currently docked in your number seven hangar bay."

Slowly, disbelievingly, Disra turned around. It couldn't be. It couldn't. But it was. There he stood, in the center of the archway leading to the aft bridge. Admiral Pellaeon.

* * *

The element of surprise was gone, the fratricidal battle over Bothawui cut short sooner than the Imperials had most likely hoped. Even now, Leia saw, the last lingering shots of that conflict were dwindling away as the various combatants woke up to the greater danger on their flank. But even in its brevity the fight had taken a heavy toll, she realized as she studied the Predominance's tactical display. Out of the nearly two hundred ships that had been fighting, fewer than a hundred ten were arraying themselves for battle against the three Star Destroyers now moving toward them.

"We're outgunned, aren't we?" Gavrisom said quietly from her side.

"I'm afraid we are," Leia conceded. "And even the ships that can still fight have all taken damage. Those Star Destroyers are fresh and rested."

"And not all of our ships may actually stay with us once they compute the odds for themselves," Gavrisom said, twitching his wings. "Even with my general summons under Section 45-2, the fact is, we are still asking them to fight in defense of Bothawui and the Bothan people." Leia nodded grimly. "Something which at least half of them aren't really interested in doing."

"Leia?"

She lifted her comlink. "I'm here, Han," she said. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, sure," he said, dismissing the danger casually. "They gave up shooting at us a long time ago. Look, Elegos has been counting the ships you've got there, and neither of us is very happy with the numbers he's coming up with."

"Neither are any of the rest of us," Leia said. "Gavrisom has a call in to any New Republic forces nearby, but so far there's been no response."

"Yeah, well, maybe I can come up with something," Han said, his tone studiously casual. "You know if Fey'lya's on Bothawui at the moment?"

Leia frowned. "Actually, I believe he is. Why?"

"You know how to reach him?"

"His private comlink frequency's in the Falcon's computer, listed under his name," Leia said.

"Why?"

"I'm going to try a little diplomacy," he told her. "See if you can stall off those Star Destroyers a little."

He clicked off. "Right," Leia murmured to herself. "Stall them off." Beside her, Gavrisom shook his mane. "There is one other matter of immediate concern, Leia," he said. "This fleet is made up of beings who, by and large, do not trust each other. We need someone in command who all will trust, or at least tolerate."

"That one I may be able to solve," Leia said, rekeying her comlink. "Lando?"

"Yes, Leia?"

"Lando, at the request of President Gavrisom, I'd like you to accept immediate reinstatement into the New Republic military," she said. "We need you to take command of this defense force." There was a short pause. "You are kidding," he said.

"Not at all, General," Gavrisom assured him. "As a hero of Taanab and Endor, you are precisely the one we need."

There was a faintly audible sigh. "I'd argue if I thought it would do any good," Lando said reluctantly. "All right, I'll do it. It would have been nice if you could have given me a bigger fleet to work with, though."

"Hey, no problem, buddy," Han's voice broke in. "It's all taken care of. Take a look behind you." Leia stared at the bridge's aft-view display, feeling her mouth falling open. Rising rapidly from the surface of Bothawui were over a hundred ships, everything from Z-95 Headhunters to Skipray Blastboats to even a few small capital warships. And more were still rising through the atmosphere.

"Han!" she gasped. "What in the worlds did you do?"

"Like I said, a little diplomacy," Han said. "I got to remembering that Thrawn suggested to Lando and me that Fey'lya had a little private army stashed away. Made sense to me, so I called the little furball and pointed out that any Bothan who helped save Bothawui could really cash in on that when this was all over."

"And Fey'lya came up with all of that?" Leia asked, still not believing it.

"Not exactly," Han said smugly. "Turns out there was a lot of signal leakage in my transmission. Battle damage, probably. I figure half the planet must have heard what I said to him." And finally, Leia understood. "And of course none of them wanted Fey'lya to grab all the glory for himself," she said, smiling tightly. "Have I told you lately that you're brilliant?"

"No," he said. "But that's okay—you've been busy. Are we ready?"

"We're ready," Leia said, nodding. "General Calrissian: your fleet awaits your orders."

* * *

For a long minute the bridge seemed to have become suspended in time and space. Moff Disra stood stiffly where he was, a couple of steps away from the two female civilians, his face contorted with disbelief and hatred and perhaps even a touch of fear. Major Tierce had stopped, too, halfway along the command walkway, looking back at Pellaeon with an unreadable expression on his face. Captain Dorja and the officers at the side consoles were staring back at him, and even the men down in the crew pits had somehow sensed something was wrong and had dropped their voices to whispers.

"Admiral Pellaeon," Thrawn's smoothly modulated voice broke the silence. Pellaeon had rather expected him to be the first to speak. "Welcome aboard the Relentless. I'm afraid we somehow missed the news of your arrival."

"As I somehow missed the news of your return," Pellaeon countered. Like Tierce, the expression behind those glowing red eyes was unreadable. "An unintentional oversight, I'm sure."

"Are you questioning the Grand Admiral's decisions?" Disra snarled.

"On the contrary," Pellaeon assured him. "I've always had the highest respect for Grand Admiral Thrawn."

"Then why sneak aboard this way?" Tierce demanded, coming back along the walkway and stopping next to the younger of the two women. "Do you have something to hide? Or some dark errand of treason to carry out?"

Deliberately, Pellaeon shifted his gaze from the major to the women beside him. "I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced," he said, bowing his head in greeting. "I'm Admiral Pellaeon, Supreme Commander of Imperial forces."

"Not anymore you're not," Disra growled. "Grand Admiral Thrawn is in command now."

"Really," Pellaeon said, eyeing him coolly. "I wasn't informed of any change of command. Another unintentional oversight?"

"Take care, Admiral," Tierce warned softly. "You're treading on very slippery ground here." Pellaeon shook his head. "You're mistaken, Major," he said. "Whatever slippery ground exists here is beneath your feet." He looked at Disra. "And yours, Your Excellency." He shifted his gaze to the man in the white Grand Admiral's uniform. "And yours... Flim." Disra's head jerked as if he'd touched a live power cable. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. But there was a new tremor in the Moff's voice, and his eyes were those of a man seeing sudden destruction coming inexorably toward him.

"I'm talking about an accomplished con artist," Pellaeon said, raising his voice so that the entire bridge could hear. "I have his rather colorful life history right here," he added, pulling a datacard from his tunic and holding it up. "Including detailed holos and a complete genetic profile." He looked across at Flim. "Would you care to accompany me to the nearest medical station for an examination?"

"But we checked his genetic profile, sir," Captain Dorja objected, stepping away from the side console where he'd been standing. "Captain Nalgol took a skin sample and compared it to Thrawn's official records."

"Records can be altered, Captain," Pellaeon reminded him. "Even official records, if the access codes have been sliced. When we return to Bastion, you can compare the genetic records with those on this datacard."

"Lies can even more easily be created on datacards," Tierce said. His voice was calm, but there was an edge of something vicious beneath it. "This is nothing but a last, pitiful attempt to undermine Grand Admiral Thrawn's authority, driven by Pellaeon's jealous fear of losing his position and prestige."

He half turned. "You see it, Captain Dorja, don't you?" he called. "Thrawn came to you instead of Pellaeon—that's what he can't stomach. He came to you and Nalgol and the others and not to him." Dorja's eyes met Pellaeon's, his face tight with confusion. "Admiral, I've always trusted your word and your judgment," he said. "But in this case..."

"There's one other record of interest on this datacard," Pellaeon said, looking back at Tierce.

"Again, from the same source. It's the record and life history of a certain Imperial Major Grodin Tierce."

Slowly, Tierce turned back to face him. And this time there was no mistaking the murder in his eyes. "And what does that record say?" he asked softly.

"It says that Major Tierce was one of the finest combat stormtroopers ever to serve the Empire," Pellaeon told him. "That his successes raised him to command rank far more quickly than even stormtrooper norm. That at the age of twenty-four he was selected to serve the Emperor as one of the elite Royal Guard. That his fierce loyalty to Palpatine's New Order was second to none." Pellaeon lifted his eyebrows slightly. "And that, as part of a stormtrooper unit involved in Thrawn's campaign against Generis, he died in combat.

"Ten years ago."

Once again, the bridge went silent. But this time it wasn't the silence of surprise. It was the silence of total shock.

"You're a clone." The words had come from Disra, but the voice was so distorted as to be almost unrecognizable. "You're just a clone."

Slowly, Tierce turned his venomous gaze from Pellaeon to Disra. And then, abruptly, he barked out a short, tortured-sounding laugh. "Just a clone," he repeated mockingly. "Just a clone—is that what you said, Disra? Just a clone? You have no idea."

He looked around the room. "None of you do. I wasn't just a clone—I was something very special. Something special and glorious."

"Why don't you tell us what that was," Pellaeon invited quietly. Tierce spun back to face him. "I was the first of a new breed," he bit out. "The first of what would have been a class of warlords the likes of which the galaxy had never seen. Warlords who combined stormtrooper combat strength and loyalty with Thrawn's own tactical genius. We would have led, and we would have conquered, and no one could have stood against us."

He turned around, his movements becoming almost jerky in his agitation. "Don't you see?" he shouted, his eyes darting to each of the officers and crewers staring in fascination or revulsion at him.

"Thrawn took Tierce and cloned him, but he put some of himself into the process. He added part of his own tactical genius to the usual flash-learning, combining it with Tierce's own mind." He spun again to face Disra. "You've seen it, Disra. Whether you know it or not, you've seen it. I was manipulating you from the very start—don't you see? It was me, right from the minute I maneuvered myself in as your aide. All those pirate attacks—the Preybird deals—that was me. All me. You never saw it—you never even guessed it—but I was the one making the quiet suggestions and feeding you the right data in the right order to get you to do what I wanted.

"And all the rest of you have seen it, too," he shouted, spinning around again. "I've been running the tactics here. Not Flim—not that red-eyed figurehead. Me. It's always been me. And I'm good at it—it's what Thrawn made me to be. I can do this."

His eyes seized on Disra again. "You talk about the Hand of Thrawn, his last ultimate weapon," he said, his voice almost pleading. "I can be that Hand of Thrawn. I can be Thrawn himself. I can defeat the New Republic—I know it."

"No, Major," Pellaeon said. "The war is over."

Tierce spun back to face him. "No," he snarled. "It's not over. Not yet. Not until we've crushed Coruscant. Not until we've had our vengeance against the Rebels."

Pellaeon gazed at him, pity and revulsion swirling together within him. "You don't understand at all," he said sadly. "Thrawn was never interested in vengeance. His goal was order, and stability, and the strength that comes of unity and common purpose."

"And how would you know what Thrawn was interested in?" Tierce sneered. "Do you have part of his mind inside you? Well? Do you?"

Pellaeon sighed. "You say you were the first of these new warlords. Do you know why there weren't any others?"

Tierce's eyes seemed to withdraw within him. "He ran out of time," he said. "He died at Bilbringi. You let him die at Bilbringi."

"No." Pellaeon lifted the datacard slightly. "You were created two months before his death—there was plenty of time for him to have made others. The fact is that there weren't any others because the experiment was a failure."

"Impossible," Tierce breathed. "I wasn't a failure. Look at me— look at me. I'm exactly what he wanted."

Pellaeon shook his head. "What he wanted was a tactically brilliant leader," he said gently. "What he got was a tactically brilliant stormtrooper. You're not a leader, Major. By your own statement you're nothing but a manipulator. You have no vision, only a thirst for revenge." Tierce's eyes darted around the bridge, as if looking for support. "That doesn't matter," he ground out. "What matters is that I can do the job. I can defeat the Rebels. Just give me a little more time."

"There is no more time," Pellaeon said with quiet finality. "The war is over." He looked over at Ardiff. "Captain Ardiff, please call a security detachment to the bridge." He started to turn away—

And in that instant, Tierce exploded into action.

The young woman standing beside him was his first victim, doubling over in agony as Tierce swung his fist viciously down and back into her stomach. In the same motion he plucked away the blaster that had suddenly appeared in her hand, twisting around to fire a shot at the older woman as the younger collapsed to the deck. He twisted back, bringing the blaster to bear on Pellaeon. There was a flicker of movement at the corner of Pellaeon's eye—

And Tierce jerked back, screaming in rage and pain as his gun hand was slapped to the side, the shot going wide, the blaster itself flying uselessly from his grip to skitter across the deck and down into the starboard crew pit.

And from concealment around the side of the archway behind Pellaeon, gliding silently across the deck, came Shada D'ukal.

Tierce didn't even bother to pull out the lacquered zenji needle now waving bloodily from the back of his gun hand. Screaming incoherently, he hooked his fingers into predator's claws and charged.

Reflexively, Pellaeon took a step backward. But he needn't have bothered. Shada was already there, meeting Tierce halfway.

And in a blurred flurry of hands and arms, it was all over.

"Captain Dorja, call a medical team to the bridge," Pellaeon ordered as Shada stepped over Tierce's broken body and hurried over to kneel beside the injured woman. "Then order all Imperial forces to cease fire immediately."

"Yes, sir," Dorja said hesitantly. "However..."

Flim lifted a blue-skinned hand. "What he's trying to find words to say, Admiral, is that they'll expect any such order to come from Grand Admiral Thrawn," he said. His voice had changed, subtly but noticeably; and as Pellaeon glanced around the bridge, he saw that they finally recognized the truth. "If you'll permit me?"

Pellaeon gestured. "Go ahead."

Flim turned to the comm officer and nodded. "This is Grand Admiral Thrawn," he called, once again in that exquisitely perfect voice. "All units, cease fire; repeat, cease fire. General Bel Iblis, please call on your forces to do likewise, then stand by for a transmission from Admiral Pellaeon." He took a deep breath and let it out; and as he did so, the aura of leadership and command subtly fell away from him. He was just a man again, a man in blue makeup and a white uniform. And Grand Admiral Thrawn was once again gone.

"And may I say to you, Admiral," he added as he walked back along the command walkway,

"how relieved I am that you're here. This whole thing has been a nightmare for me. An absolute nightmare."

"Of course," Pellaeon said gravely. "We'll have to make time later for you to tell me your tale of woe."

Flim half bowed. "I'll look forward to that, sir."

"Yes," Pellaeon said, looking over at Disra. "So will I."

CHAPTER

42

The loud gushing sound had subsided now to a quiet sloshing as the water continued to creep its slow but steady way up the sides of the room. A sloshing sound that was being rhythmically punctuated by the splashing of chunks of rock as Luke's lightsaber carved a deepening conical pit into the top of the dome.

"I think you're wasting your time," Mara said as the splash from a particularly large chunk echoed through the room. "There's nothing up there but solid rock."

"I think you're right," Luke conceded, shifting his arm to a new spot around her shoulders and trying to hold her a little closer. Soaked clear through, they were both shivering in the cool, damp air.

"I was hoping we might be able to punch through to the main power generator area. But I guess if we haven't hit it by now, it's not there."

"It's probably twenty meters behind us," she said, her teeth chattering slightly. "We'd never be able to cut through to it in time. Are your ears starting to hurt?"

"A little," Luke said, reluctantly closing down his lightsaber and calling it back to his hand. Cutting through the ceiling had been his last, best idea. "The air in here's being compressed. The extra pressure should help slow down the incoming water a little."

"Along with making our eyes go all buggy." Mara nodded toward the far wall. "You suppose there's any chance the top of the room's above the level of the lake? If it is, we might be able to cut our way out horizontally."

"And if it isn't, we'd drown ourselves that much sooner," Luke pointed out. "Anyway, I really don't think we're high enough."

"I didn't think so, either," Mara agreed regretfully, leaning forward to look past Luke at Artoo.

"Too bad we lost the datapad—we could have asked Artoo to take some sensor readings. We could still ask, of course, but we couldn't understand the answer."

"Wait a minute," Luke said, another idea suddenly hitting him. "What about that passageway where we first came in? We could send Artoo there with my lightsaber to enlarge it."

"No good." Mara shook her head, the movement sending strands of wet hair slapping gently across Luke's cheek. "That whole section is solid cortosis ore. I checked it the first time we went through."

Luke grimaced. "I thought it sounded too easy."

"Isn't it always," Mara said, the faint sarcasm sounding odd coming as it did through chattering teeth. "Too bad we don't have a Dark Jedi handy we could kill. Remember that big blast when C'baoth died?"

"Yes," Luke said mechanically, staring off into space. The insane Jedi clone Joruus C'baoth, recruited to fight against the New Republic by Grand Admiral Thrawn.

Thrawn. Clone...

"Mara, you told me cortosis ore wasn't structurally very strong. Just how weak is it?"

"It was flaking off under our boots as we walked through the passage," she said, throwing him a puzzled look. "Other than that, I haven't the faintest idea. Why?" Luke nodded at the vast pool below them. "We've got a lot of water here, and water isn't compressible the way air is. If we could create a hard enough jolt here in this room, the pressure wave should travel all the way down the tunnel to the passageway. If it's powerful enough, maybe we can collapse that whole area."

"Sounds great," Mara agreed. "Just one problem: how exactly do we engineer this massive jolt of yours?"

Luke braced himself. "We cut through that transparisteel barrier and flood the cloning alcove."

"Oh, my stars," Mara murmured; and even through his mental exhaustion Luke could feel her ripple of stunned apprehension. "Luke, that's a Braxxon-Fipps 590 fusion generator in there. You dump water on that and you're going to have more jolt than you know what to do with."

"I know it's risky," Luke said. "But I think it's our only chance." Letting go of his grip on her, wincing as his wet clothing shifted against his skin, he stood up. "Wait here; I'll be right back." She sighed. "No," she said, standing up beside him and taking hold of his arm. "I'll do it."

"Like blazes you will," Luke growled. "It's my crazy idea. I'll do it."

"Okay," she said, crossing her arms. "Tell me how you do a Paparak cross-cut." He blinked. "A what?"

"A Paparak cross-cut," she repeated. "It's a technique for weakening a stressed wall so that it comes down a minute or so after you're safely out of the vicinity. Palpatine taught it to me as part of my sabotage training."

"Okay," Luke said. "So give me a fast course."

"What, like a fast course in becoming a Jedi?" she countered scornfully. "It's not that easy."

"Mara—"

"Besides," she added quietly, "when whichever of us goes down pops up again, the other one's going to have to get them back up here out of the way of the blast. I don't think I can lift you that far that fast." Her lips pressed briefly together. "And frankly, I don't want to sit here and watch myself fail."

Luke glared at her. But she was right, and they both knew it. "This is blackmail, you know."

"This is common sense," she corrected him. "The right person for the job, remember?" She smiled faintly. "Or do you need another lecture on that topic?"

"Spare me," he said with a sigh, running his fingertips across her cheek. "All right, I'll lift you over there. Be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry," she said, taking a deep breath and pulling her lightsaber from her belt. "Ready." Stretching out to the Force, he lifted her over the railing and across the room to the transparisteel wall. Her mind touched his, her thoughts indicating she was ready, and he lowered her into the water. She took a few more deep breaths, then bent at the waist and ducked her head beneath the surface. A single vertical kick of her legs, and she was gone.

Across the ledge, Artoo moaned nervously. "She'll be all right," Luke assured him, gripping the top rail as he stared anxiously at the choppy water. He could feel Mara's thoughts as she maneuvered her way back and forth across the wall, making short, deliberate cuts with her lightsaber. Stretching out harder, he could sense the change in flow against her skin as the water began to seep through the cracks.

And if the water level rose high enough in there to reach the generator before she was finished...

"Come on, Mara, come on," he muttered under his breath. "It's good enough—let's go." He felt her negative thought; the wall wasn't yet shredded to her satisfaction. Luke pressed back his impatience and fear, the faces of Callista and Gaeriel hovering before him. Only a week ago he'd told himself firmly that he could never permit himself to love Mara, that such a closeness and commitment from him would inevitably put her in danger.

And now he'd reneged on that determination. And sure enough, like all the others, his actions or inactions had put her in deadly danger. He felt a flicker in her emotions, mixing with the fear and dread rising chokingly from within him—

And suddenly her head breached the surface. "Got it," she gasped. He had her moving before the second word was even out of her mouth, pulling her toward him with all the speed he could manage. He flipped her over the railing and lowered her flat on her stomach on the ledge, stretching himself protectively down on top of her as she landed. "How soon?" he asked, reaching out to the Force to try to create a low-level shield that could provide at least a minimal barrier against the impending explosion.

"Could be anytime," Mara answered, her voice muffled by the rock wall she was facing. "And by the way, just for future reference, don't you ever not care for someone just because you're afraid they might get hurt in the process. Especially not me. You got that?"

Luke grimaced in embarrassment. "You weren't supposed to hear that." Behind him, he heard the sudden crack and surging of water as the transparisteel wall collapsed—

And with a brilliant flash he could see even with his eyes squeezed shut, the generator blew up. The sound of the blast itself was almost muffled; but the roar of the wave that slammed over them more than made up for it. The water surged and roiled all around them, effortlessly picking them up and slamming them back and forth between the wall, the ledge, and the railing. Luke held grimly on to Mara, wishing belatedly he'd thought to tie Artoo down somehow.

And then, as suddenly as it had struck, the swirling water fell away, leaving them bruised and drenched but otherwise unharmed. Shaking the water out of his eyes, Luke pushed himself up on one arm and looked out into the chamber.

And caught his breath. Only one of the room's glow panels had survived the explosion; but by its dim light he could see that the water level was rapidly going down. "Mara—look. It worked."

"I'll be Kesseled," she said, spitting out some water. "Now what? We jump in and follow the flow?"

Luke leaned over the railing, trying to see the exit tunnel. If it wasn't still full to the ceiling... But it was. "It's not quite that simple," he told Mara. "The flow should carry us back into the caverns, all right, but there's still the matter of getting through the tunnel and underground room."

"Why don't we just wait until the level goes down far enough?"

"We can't," Luke said. "I don't know why."

"Jedi hunch," Mara said. "Then we're back to hibernation trances. How fast can you put me in one?"

"Pretty fast," he told her. "Take a few deep breaths, and tell me what phrase you want me to use to snap you out of it."

"A phrase, right," she said, inhaling deeply, a strangely cautious mood touching her mind. "Okay. See if you can handle this one..."

She told him, and he smiled. "Got it," he said, and stretched out with the Force. A minute later she was fast asleep in his arms. "You go first, Artoo," Luke told the droid, lifting him up with the Force and easing him over the railing. "We'll be right behind you." The droid warbled; and then he was in the water, his dome bobbing above the waves as he was swept toward the tunnel. Wrapping his arms protectively around Mara, Luke jumped in behind him. The current grabbed them, pushing them along behind the bobbing droid as Luke struggled to keep their heads above water. The wall and the top of the tunnel archway loomed ahead; and just before they reached it, Luke took a deep breath and pulled them both under the surface. The rest of the trip was a blur of dizzying speed, continual buffeting of the water, near-collisions with smooth walls and rough stone, aching eyes and lungs. Through his half trance Luke was vaguely aware of where they left the tunnel and entered the underground room; was more sharply aware of where they slammed through the newly enlarged gap in the wall and the protective cortosis ore barrier as the turbulence threw them back and forth against the rock. The torrent dragged them, twisting and turning, through the caverns and tunnels they'd so laboriously picked their way through days earlier with Child Of Winds and the Qom Jha. Dimly through his slow asphyxiation, Luke decided it was just as well that they'd cut away so many of the stalactites and stalagmites that would have been in their way...

Abruptly, he snapped awake, half submerged in water, his head and chest resting precariously on a slimy boulder, Artoo's frantic twittering in his ears. "Okay, right," he managed, shaking his head to clear it.

And suddenly stiffened. Mara was gone.

He shook his head again, digging out his glow rod with numb, half-frozen fingers as he scrabbled around looking for footing. He found it immediately; the water he was in turned out to be only waist high. He fumbled the glow rod out at last and flicked it on.

He was standing in a pool just off the edge of the last of the underground rivers he and Mara had passed during their trip through the caverns. Five meters to his left, the torrent that had brought them here had vanished, leaving only the river rippling its sedate way along. And two meters to his right, bobbing gently in the pool as she floated beside the craggy rock, was Mara. Her eyes closed, her arms and legs limp. As if in death.

The precise image he'd seen of her in that Jedi vision on Tierfon.

And then he was at her side, raising her head out of the water, gazing at her face in sudden fear. If the trance hadn't kept her alive—if she'd struck something hard enough to kill her after he'd lost his grip on her—

Behind him, Artoo whistled impatiently. "Right," Luke agreed, cutting off his sudden panic. All he had to do to bring her out of it was speak the key phrase she'd chosen, the phrase she'd wondered aloud if he could handle. Almost as if she was afraid he couldn't...

He took a deep breath. "I love you, Mara."

Her eyes blinked open, blinked again as she chased the water from them. "Hi," she said, breathing heavily as she grabbed his arm and maneuvered herself upright. "I see we made it."

"Yes," Luke said, taking her in his arms and holding her tightly, his tension and fear evaporating into a mist of utter calm and relief. The vision had been passed, and Mara had survived it. And they were together again. Forever.

"Yes," Mara murmured. "Forever."

They loosened their grips on each other, just slightly... and standing together in the cold water, their lips came together in a kiss.

It seemed like a long time before Mara gently pulled away from the embrace. "Not to put a damper on this," she said, "but we're both shivering, and we're still a long way from home. Where are we, anyway?"

"Back at our underground river," Luke told her, reluctantly bringing his mind back to practical matters.

"Ah." She peered toward the stream. "What happened to our personal flood?"

"It seems to have ended," Luke said. "Either we drained the lake completely—"

"Which is real unlikely."

"Right," Luke said. "Or else it's gotten stopped up again somehow."

"Probably more of the chamber wall collapsed," Mara said, reaching up to push back some of the hair that had gotten plastered across her cheek. "Or else it's jammed up with what's left of the cloning equipment."

Luke nodded, helping her push the rest of her hair back out of the way. "Good thing we didn't wait any longer to make our exit."

"Sure is," Mara agreed. "Handy things, those Jedi hunches. You'll have to teach me how to do those."

"We'll work on it," Luke promised, wading toward the edge of the pond. "I think the Qom Jha said this river emptied out into a small waterfall."

"Sounds good," Mara said. "Let's go find it."

* * *

Another wave of Skipray Blastboats shot past, pelting the Tyrannic with laser fire. Behind them, two of the Ishori war cruisers had gotten inside the kill zone and were scattering a dazzling pattern of more powerful turbolaser blasts across the ridgeline. "Two more starboard turbolasers knocked out," the fire control officer called tensely. "Forward ridgeline has been breached; crews are sealing it off."

"Acknowledged," Nalgol said, hearing his voice trembling with a frustrated and wholly impotent fury. It was unthinkable— unthinkable—that a fleet of three Imperial Star Destroyers should find themselves fighting for their survival against such a pitiful ragtag of aliens and alien-lovers. But that was exactly what they were doing. There were just too many of them to keep track of. Too many of them to fight.

And with all his pride in his ship and his crew and his Empire, Nalgol was realist enough to know when the fight had become hopeless.

"Signal to the Obliterator and Ironhand," he ordered between clenched teeth. "Pull back and withdraw. Repeat: pull back and withdraw."

"Acknowledged, Captain," the comm officer replied.

"What heading, sir?" the helmsman called.

"A short jump in any direction." Nalgol glared out the viewport. "And after that, set course directly for Bastion. Grand Admiral Thrawn needs to hear about this." And he would indeed hear about it, Nalgol promised himself silently. Yes, indeed. He would hear all about it.

* * *

The waterfall exit was considerably less cozy than Luke had expected it to be, the hole possibly having been enlarged by the flood that had just forced its way through. There weren't any footholds right at the mouth, but in the dim starlight Mara spotted a likely ledge about five meters to the left. Using the Force, Luke lifted first Mara, then Artoo, across the gap. Then, a bit more tentatively, Mara brought him across to join them.

"Any idea what side of the fortress we're on?" she asked, looking around the darkened landscape. "Or how much longer we've got until dawn?"

"No, to both questions," Luke said, stretching out with the Force. There was no danger nearby that he could detect. "Probably the far side; and probably not more than a couple more hours."

"We'd better use the time to get under cover," she suggested, peering up at the cliff above them.

"We don't want to be out in the open when Parck sends out his search parties."

"I just hope he doesn't find the ship we borrowed," Luke said. "Aside from giving him back his quick access to Bastion, it would lose us our only way of getting out of here together."

"Well, if he does, you and Artoo will just have to take your X-wing and go for help," Mara said.

"You mean you and Artoo will go," Luke said firmly. "I mean that, Mara. No argument this time—"

Jedi Sky Walker?

Luke looked up. Fluttering to a landing on a boulder above them were a dozen dark shapes. And the tone and mind of one of them seemed very familiar. "Yes," he said. "Is that you, Hunter Of Winds?"

It is I, the Qom Qae confirmed. My son, Child Of Winds, informed all nearby nestings of your deeds this night. We have been watching for your return.

"Thank you," Luke said. "We very much appreciate your efforts. Can you show us to a place of shelter nearby? We need to hide from those in the High Tower until we can make our way back to our ship."

Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings. No need for shelter, Jedi Sky Walker, he said. We will carry you to your flying machine, as my son and his companions did earlier this night. Luke frowned. After Hunter Of Winds's quick and cavalier dismissal of him and his mission when he and Artoo first landed, such magnanimity seemed suspiciously out of character. "You're very kind," he said carefully. "May I ask why you're willing to take such risks for us?" Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings. I have spoken to the Bargainer for this nesting of the Qom Jha, he said. Eater Of Fire Creepers has agreed to release you from your promise to help us against the Threateners, provided you leave our world at once.

Luke felt his face warming. "In other words, our presence here has become a liability to you?" Child Of Winds has said the Threateners will not harm us if we do not bother them, Hunter Of Winds said gruffly. It is to that end that we wish you to leave.

"Nothing like being appreciated, is there?" Mara muttered.

"It's all right," Luke said, touching her hand and her mind soothingly. Reminding her that, embarrassment and even veiled insult aside, this was in fact the result she herself had said she wanted. Parck and the Chiss would now be left alone, unharassed by the Qom Jha and Qom Qae, and free to focus their full energies on their work in the Unknown Regions.

"Fine," she said, and Luke could feel her grudging acceptance. "But he's not Child Of Winds anymore. After what he's been through, he deserves to have a name of his own." Really, Hunter Of Winds said, giving her a long, thoughtful look. And what name do you suggest for him?

"The one he's earned," she said softly. " 'Friend Of Jedi.' " Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings again. I will consider it. But now, let us depart. The night grows old, and you will wish to be gone before the sunrise.

* * *

"I'll look forward to it," Flim was saying as Karrde rounded the archway onto the Relentless's bridge.

"Yes," Pellaeon said. "So will I."

The Admiral turned as Karrde stepped up beside him. "You're late," Pellaeon said mildly.

"I was watching the turbolift," Karrde explained. "I thought Flim and his associates might try to bring a squad of stormtroopers in on their side of the dispute."

"They might have, at that," Pellaeon said. "Thank you."

"No problem," Karrde assured him, looking around the bridge. The Major Tierce clone was lying unmoving on the deck, Shada was across with the other two Mistryl, the con man Flim was waiting with studied unconcern just back of the command walkway, and Moff Disra was a little off to one side, standing as aloof and cold and dignified as a man facing his own destruction could manage.

"Besides, it doesn't look like my presence was really needed."

"Not for this part, no," Pellaeon agreed. "Your friend Shada is quite impressive. I don't suppose she'd be interested in a job."

"Well, she is looking for a higher cause to serve," Karrde told him. "However, to be perfectly honest, I don't think the Empire is it."

Pellaeon nodded. "Perhaps we can change that."

"Admiral Pellaeon?" a voice called from the crew pits. "I have General Bel Iblis for you now."

"Thank you." Pellaeon looked to Karrde. "Don't run off—I'll want to speak with you later."

"Certainly."

The Admiral headed down the command walkway, passing Flim without a second glance. Throwing one last look at Disra, Karrde crossed to where Shada and the other young Mistryl were helping the older woman to a sitting position. "How is she?" he asked.

"Not as bad as we thought," Shada said, probing gingerly into the scorched tunic. "She was able to twist almost out of the way of the shot."

"Well-honed reflexes." Karrde nodded. "Once a Mistryl, always a Mistryl, I suppose." The older woman eyed him balefully. "You're very well informed," she growled.

"About a great many things," Karrde agreed calmly. "Among them the fact that Shada seems to have earned your displeasure somehow."

"And what, you think this makes up for it?" the woman snapped contemptuously.

"Doesn't it?" Karrde countered. "If she hadn't stopped Tierce when she did, you two would have been the next to die after Pellaeon. You were the most immediate threats to him." She snorted. "I'm a Mistryl, Talon Karrde. My life is gladly given in the service of my people."

"Really." Karrde looked at the younger woman. "Do you also consider your life not worth a little gratitude?"

"Leave Karoly out of this," the older woman bit out. "She has nothing to say on the matter."

"Ah," Karrde said. "Soldiers with no voice or opinion. Remarkably similar to the philosophy of the Imperial stormtroopers."

"Karoly allowed Shada to escape once before," the woman said, glowering at her. "She's fortunate she wasn't punished herself for that."

"Oh, yes," Karrde murmured. "How very lucky for her." The woman's eyes flashed. "If you've quite finished—"

"I haven't," Karrde said. "Clearly, you don't consider Mistryl lives worth anything. What about Mistryl reputations?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Karrde waved toward Flim. "You were about to make an alliance with these people. You were about to be taken in by nothing more than slick talk, whipped air, and a dirt-level fringe con man. And don't bother denying it; a member of the Eleven doesn't travel off Emberlene just for the exercise." The woman's eyes drifted away from his gaze. "The issue was still under discussion," she muttered.

"Glad to hear it," Karrde said. "Because if even your reputation doesn't matter to you, consider what binding the Mistryl to a vengeful man like Moff Disra would have meant. How long do you think it would have been before you became his private Death Commandos?"

"That would never have happened," Karoly put in emphatically. "We would never sink that low, not even under a treaty."

Shada stirred. "What was it you tried to stop me from doing on the Resinem Complex roof?" she asked quietly.

"That was different," Karoly protested.

Shada shook her head. "No. Condoning and cooperating with murder is no different from committing it yourself."

"She's right," Karrde said. "And once you started down that road, it would have meant the end of the Mistryl. You'd have burned your sky-arches behind you with every other potential client; and when Flim's soap bubble collapsed, as it inevitably would have, there would have been nothing left out there anymore for you.

"And with the end of the Mistryl would have come a final end to Emberlene." He crossed his arms and waited... and after a few seconds the older woman grimaced. "What is it you want?"

"I want the Mistryl hunter teams called off Shada," he said. "Whatever her alleged crime against you, it's to be forgiven and the death mark lifted."

The woman's mouth twisted. "You ask much."

"We've given much," Karrde reminded her. "Is it a deal?" She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well. But she will not be reinstated into the Mistryl; not now, not ever. And Emberlene will forever be closed to her."

She turned burning eyes up at Shada. "From now on she is a woman without a home." Karrde looked at Shada. Her face was tight, her lips pressed tightly together. But she returned his look steadily and nodded. "Fine," he said. "We'll just have to see about finding her a new home."

"With you?" The woman snorted. "With a smuggler and seller of information? Tell me again how low a Mistryl can sink."

There was no answer to that. But fortunately, Karrde didn't have to come up with one. There was a sudden bustling at his side, and then he was gently but firmly shouldered away by the medical team as they gathered around the injured woman. He stepped back out of their way, shifting his attention to the security team that had arrived at the same time. With professional efficiency they scanned Flim and Disra for hidden weapons, put restraints on them both, and escorted them back to the aft bridge turbolift.

Another group, following behind them, was carrying Tierce's body.

"Karrde?"

He turned to see Pellaeon walking back along the command walkway toward him. "I have to go across to the Errant Venture and speak with General Bel Iblis," the Admiral said as he reached him.

"But before I go, I wanted to discuss the price for the Flim and Tierce information you brought me." Karrde shrugged. "For once in my life, Admiral, I'm not sure what to say," he admitted. "The datacard was a gift to me. It seems a bit dishonest to turn around and charge you for it."

"Ah." Pellaeon eyed him speculatively. "A gift from those aliens whose ship scared the stuffing out of my sensor officers at Bastion?"

"From an associate of theirs," Karrde said. "I'm really not at liberty to discuss the details."

"I understand," Pellaeon said. "Still, your ethics apart—which I find laudable, incidentally—I'd like to find a way to thank you with something more concrete than just words."

"I'll see what I can come up with." Karrde gestured toward the Star Destroyer visible out the viewport. "In the meantime, may I ask what you're going over to discuss with General Bel Iblis?" Pellaeon's eyes narrowed slightly. But then he shrugged. "It's still highly confidential, of course," he said. "But knowing you, you'll probably know about it soon enough, anyway. I'm proposing a peace treaty between the Empire and the New Republic. It's time for this long war to finally end." Karrde shook his head. "The things that happen when I'm out of touch at the edges of known space," he said philosophically. "For whatever it's worth, Admiral, I agree wholeheartedly with your goal. And I wish you luck."

"Thank you," Pellaeon said. "Feel free to leave whenever you wish, or allow your crew to take advantage of any of the Relentless's facilities if they'd like. And again, thank you." He headed off toward the turbolift. Karrde watched him go, then looked back at Shada. The medical team had finished their preliminary work and were helping the injured woman onto a stretcher. Shada was watching them from a few paces away, an expression of private pain on her face. Like someone watching the last member of her family leaving home.

And then, unbidden, an idea drifted into Karrde's mind. Something larger than herself, she'd told Car'das. Something she could hold on to and serve and believe in. Something more honorable and noble than the life of a fringe smuggler.

Something that would make a difference...

"Admiral Pellaeon?" he called, hurrying back to the aft bridge. "Admiral?" Pellaeon had paused at the open door of the turbolift. "Yes?"

"Let me ride over with you to the Errant Venture, if I may," Karrde said, stepping to his side. "I have a modest proposal I'd like to make to you."

* * *

Luke's final fear was that the Hand of Thrawn's weapons towers would spot them as they lifted their borrowed ship out of its hiding place, forcing their departure from the Nirauan surface to be yet another mad race against death. But the Chiss were apparently still dealing with the aftermath of the hangar destruction, with no attention left to turn outward.

And so they lifted out into space without challenge; and with Mara's touch on the hyperdrive lever the stars became starlines and faded into the mottling of hyperspace.

And at long last, they were on their way home.

"Next stop, Coruscant," Luke said with a sigh, leaning back tiredly in the copilot's seat.

"Next stop, the nearest New Republic base or one of Karrde's outposts," Mara corrected. "I don't know about you, but I want a shower, some clean clothes, and something besides ration bars to eat."

"Point taken," Luke said. "You always were the practical one, weren't you?"

"And you always were the idealistic one," she said. "Must be why we work so well together. Speaking of practical, remember back in the cloning chamber when Artoo went all squeaky?"

"You mean just before the sentinel droids showed up?"

"Right. We never did find out what was tying him in knots that way."

"Well, let's find out now," Luke said, levering himself out of his seat and making his way back to the droid alcove where they'd plugged Artoo into the ship's computer. "Okay, Artoo, you heard the lady. What was it about the Unknown Regions data that got you all excited?" Artoo warbled, his words appearing on the computer display. "He says it didn't have anything to do with the Unknown Regions," Luke reported. "Which he says he didn't get more than a general overview of, by the way."

"I didn't think he'd gotten very much," Mara said regretfully. "He wasn't connected to the computer nearly long enough to download everything."

"Well, we're sure not going to go back and get the rest now," Luke said, skimming down the scrolling words. "But there was something he stumbled across in one of the other records..." Mara must have picked up his sudden shock. "What is it?" she asked sharply.

"I don't believe it," he murmured, still reading. "Mara, he found it. He found it."

"Wonderful. Found what?"

"What else?" Luke looked up at her. "Thrawn's copy of the Caamas Document."

CHAPTER

43

Fifteen days later, in the secondary command room of the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera, the peace accords between the Empire and New Republic were signed.

"I still say you should have been the one over there," Han groused as he and Leia watched from the back of the room while Pellaeon and Gavrisom performed the ceremony amid the crowd of assembled dignitaries. "You did way more on this than he did."

"It's all right, Han," Leia said, surreptitiously wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Peace. After all the years, after all the sacrifice and destruction and death. Finally, they had peace.

"Yeah?" Han countered suspiciously. "Then how come you're crying?" She smiled at him. "Memories," she said. "Just memories." He found her hand, took it comfortingly. "Alderaan?" he asked quietly.

"Alderaan, the Death Stars—" She squeezed his hand. "You."

"Nice to know I'm in the top three, anyway," he said, looking around the room. "Speaking of old memories, where's Lando? I thought he was going to be here."

"He changed his mind," Leia said. "I guess Tendra wasn't very happy with him heading out to Bastion with you without at least telling her about it. He's taken her art shopping on Celanon to make it up to her."

Han shook his head. "Strong women," he said, mock sadly. "They'll get you every time."

"Watch that," Leia warned, digging her elbow into his side. "You've always liked strong women. Admit it."

"Well, not always," Han said. "Ow—okay, okay. I like strong women."

"What's this about strong women?" Karrde's voice asked from Han's other side.

"Just a friendly family discussion," Han assured him. "Good to see you again, Karrde. How come you're not over there with the rest of the high-class people?"

"Probably the same reason you're not," Karrde said. "I don't exactly fit in with that sort of group."

"That'll change soon," Leia assured him. "Particularly now that you're respectable and all. How in the worlds did you talk Gavrisom and Bel Iblis into this joint Intelligence service idea?"

"The same way I talked Pellaeon into it, actually," Karrde said. "I simply pointed out that the key to a stable and calm peace is both sides knowing the other isn't plotting some kind of move against them. Bastion doesn't trust your Intelligence network, and Coruscant definitely doesn't trust theirs." He shrugged. "Enter a neutral third party—us—who straddle both regimes and are already equipped to gather and assemble information. We'll simply now be supplying it to your two governments instead of to private buyers."

"It could work, I suppose," Han agreed cautiously. "The Bureau of Ships and Services has been operating independently for years without going political, either under the Empire or the New Republic. You might be able to pull it off."

"I like the fact we'll be getting the same information about our own systems that you'll be giving Bastion," Leia said. "It'll supplement the data the Observers are sending us and help us keep track of what the various system and sector governments are up to. That should help us spot problems before they get too big to deal with."

"Yeah," Han said darkly. "Just because the Caamas Document Luke and Mara brought back slowed down a lot of the brush wars doesn't mean they won't start up again."

"Still, I suspect that seeing how easily their old rivalries were manipulated by Disra and Flim has made them more cautious," Leia pointed out. "I know of at least eight conflicts where the participants have now petitioned Coruscant for mediation."

"It may also depend somewhat on how the trial goes," Karrde said. "I was a bit surprised so many of the culprits are still alive."

"Bothans tend to be long-lived," Leia said. "I'm sure that group is regretting that fact." Across the room, Leia could see Bel Iblis and Ghent talking with Pellaeon now, Ghent looking extremely uncomfortable at his inclusion into such—to his mind—exalted company. A little ways behind them, Chewbacca was riding patient herd on Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin as the children chattered excitedly away to Barkhimkh and two other Noghri about their adventures on this latest visit to Kashyyyk. "Did Luke tell you where he found that copy of the document, by the way?" Karrde asked. "I couldn't get anything out of Mara."

"No, he and Mara have both been very quiet about it," Leia said. "Luke said they have some thinking to do before they give us any details. It most certainly has to do with that odd spaceship they came back in."

"I imagine there's an interesting story behind it all," Karrde suggested. Leia nodded. "I'm sure we'll hear it eventually."

Han cleared his throat. "Speaking of Luke," he said, "and speaking of strong women," he added, throwing Leia a grin, "how's your organization going to manage without Mara?"

"We'll have some problems," Karrde conceded. "She was running a good deal of the organization, after all. But we'll adjust."

"Besides, he's got someone new to take her place," Leia couldn't resist adding. "Shada's officially joined him—had you heard that?"

"Yeah, I did," Han said, giving Karrde a highly speculative look. "You know, I asked you once what it would take to get you to join the New Republic. Remember? You asked what it had taken to get me to join up—"

"Yes, I remember," Karrde cut him off, an uncharacteristic note of embarrassment coloring his voice. "Kindly bear in mind that I have not joined the New Republic. And my relationship with Shada is nothing like that."

"Neither was mine," Han said smugly, putting his arm around Leia. "That's okay. Give it time."

"It's not going to happen," Karrde insisted.

"Yeah," Han said. "I know."

* * *

On the ship's layout map, the room was called a forward visual triangulation site, for use in line-of-sight weapons targeting if any enemy managed to knock out the main sensor array. But for tonight, at least, it had become a private observation gallery.

Mara leaned against the cool transparisteel viewport, gazing out at the stars. Wondering at the right-angle turn her life had just taken.

"You realize, of course," Luke commented as he came up behind her with their drinks, "that they're all probably wondering where we are."

"Let them wonder," Mara said, sniffing the air appreciatively over the mug he handed her. The courtiers of Palpatine's court had always been openly contemptuous of hot chocolate, considering it beneath the dignity of elite such as themselves. Karrde and his people, like the good smugglers they were, had turned up their noses at all nonalcoholic drinks in general.

But the drink fit perfectly with Luke's farm boy past. It gave her a warm feeling, evoking a sense of comfort and stability and security. Simple necessities, which she'd missed so much throughout most of her life.

She took a sip. And besides that, the stuff just plain tasted good.

"Has Leia talked to you about the wedding?" Luke asked, sipping from his own mug as he leaned against the viewport facing her.

"Not yet," Mara said, making a face. "I suppose she's going to want some big blowout High Alderaanian ceremony."

Luke grinned. "Wants, probably. Expects, no."

"Good," Mara said. "I'd rather have something quiet and private and dignified. Mostly dignified, anyway," she amended. "With New Republic dignitaries on one side and Karrde's smugglers on the other, we'll probably need a weapons check at the door."

Luke chuckled. "We'll figure something out."

She eyed him over the rim of her mug. "Speaking of figuring things out, have you decided what you're going to do about the academy?"

He turned his head to gaze out the viewport. "I can't just abandon the students I have there," he said. "That much I know. I was thinking maybe I could slowly turn it into—oh, call it a pre-Jedi school. A place where beginning students can get the basics, maybe learning from older students, and do a little practicing among themselves. Once they've passed that stage, you and I and other instructors can complete their training. Maybe in a more personal one-on-one arrangement, the way Ben and Master Yoda trained me."

He looked back at her. "Assuming you want to be involved with the training at all, that is." She shrugged. "I'm not completely comfortable with the idea," she admitted. "But I am a Jedi now—at least, I assume I am—and until we can swell the ranks of instructors I suppose teaching is going to be part of my job." She considered. "At least, it will be once I've got a little more training of my own under my belt."

"Private training, of course?"

"I should hope so," she said. "Before I can do that, though, I'll need time to gracefully disengage from Karrde's organization. I've got responsibilities I have to transfer over to other people, and I can't just let them slide." She smiled. "Responsibility and commitment, you know." There was a flicker in his emotions. "Yes," he murmured.

"Though even when I'm ready to start teaching I don't think I'll want to stay on Yavin to do it," she continued, studying him closely. "Maybe the two of us could travel around the New Republic with the more advanced students, teaching them as we go. That way we'd be available for emergency conflict mediation and conciliation and all the other things Jedi are supposed to do, while at the same time giving the students a taste of real-life situations."

"That would be very useful," Luke said. "I know I could sure have used some of that myself."

"Good." She regarded him thoughtfully. "Now tell me what's bothering you."

"What do you mean?" he asked warily, his thoughts closing in on themselves.

"Oh, come on, Luke," she said gently. "I've been inside your head and your heart. You can't keep secrets from me anymore. Something hit you when I mentioned responsibility and commitment a minute ago. What was it?"

He sighed, and she could sense him give up. "I guess I still have some lingering doubts about why you'd want to marry me," he said hesitantly. "I mean, I know why I love you and want to marry you. It's just that it doesn't seem like you'll be gaining as much from this as I will." Mara gazed down at the dark liquid in her mug. "I could point out that marriage isn't a game of profit and loss," she said. "But I suppose that would just be deflecting the question." She took a deep breath. "The fact is, Luke, that until that mental and emotional melding we had during the battle in Thrawn's cloning chamber, I didn't even know myself what it was I wanted. Sure, I had friends and associates; but I'd cut myself off so completely from any real emotional attachments that I didn't even realize how much a part of life was missing."

She shook her head. "I mean, look, I cried when the Jade's Fire crashed. A ship—a thing; and yet I cried over it. What did that say about my priorities?"

"It wasn't just a thing, though," Luke murmured. "It was your freedom."

"Sure," Mara said. "But that's part of the point. It represented freedom, but it was freedom to escape from other people if I decided I wanted out."

She looked out at the stars. "In many ways, I'm still all closed up emotionally. You, on the other hand, have such an emotional openness it sometimes drives me crazy. That's what I need to learn; and you're the one I want to learn it from."

She moved closer to him and took his hand. "But that's just profit and loss games again. The simple, bottom-line fact is that this is the right path for us. Like that Qom Jha proverb Builder With Vines quoted at us in the caverns, the one about many vines woven together being stronger than the same number used separately. We complement each other perfectly, Luke, all the way down the line. In many ways, we're two halves of a single being."

"I know that," he said. "I guess I just wasn't sure you did."

"I know just about everything you do, now," Mara reminded him. "Faughn was right—we do make a good team. And we can only get better at it. Give us a few more years, and enemies of the New Republic will be running for cover like crazy."

"And those enemies will definitely be there," Luke said, sobering as he turned again to gaze out the viewport at the distant stars. "That's our future, Mara—out there in the Unknown Regions. Our hopes and dreams; promises and opportunities; dangers and enemies. And for the moment, we're the ones who hold that key."

Mara nodded, stepping close to his side and putting her arm around him. "We'll have to decide what to do with that overview Artoo downloaded. Maybe send probe ships out to take a look at some of the worlds Thrawn had listed, just to see what's there."

"Sounds reasonable," Luke said. "Either on our own or under New Republic auspices. And we also have to decide what to do about the Hand of Thrawn."

"My vote is that we leave them out of it," Mara said. "If they're not interested in talking to us, the last thing we want to do is try to force the issue."

"What if Parck decides to talk to Bastion instead?" Luke asked. Mara shook her head. "I don't think he will. If he hasn't contacted them by now, it must mean he's picked up the news reports that the Thrawn sighting was a hoax and decided to go back to lying low."

"He could also be plotting how to come after you for what you did to his hangar and ships," Luke warned.

"I'm not worried about it," Mara said. "The ships themselves he can undoubtedly replace, and he ought to be grateful I stopped him from giving the Hand of Thrawn to Disra and Flim." She shrugged. "Besides, Fel did tell me to take my best shot." Luke smiled. "I doubt that was exactly what he had in mind."

"I'm not responsible for what Baron Fel has in mind," Mara reminded him. "Seriously, I think if they do anything it'll be to try to recruit me again."

"And, of course, wait for Thrawn to return."

Mara thought about the dead clone floating in the flooded chamber. "That could take a while."

"True," Luke said. "Still, I suppose that even if they get tired of waiting and contact Bastion, we have a treaty with the Empire now. Maybe ultimately we'll all head out to develop those regions together."

Mara nodded. "And to face whatever's out there. That could be interesting." Luke nodded back, and for a few minutes they stood arm in arm looking out at the stars. An almost-vision floated before Mara's eyes, a vision of the future— their future—and of what they would face together. Challenges, children, friends, enemies, allies, dangers, joys, sorrows—all of it swirled into a sort of living mosaic, fading away into the distance. A vision like she'd never seen before.

But then, she'd never been a Jedi before. There were indeed going to be interesting challenges ahead.

"But that's the future," Luke murmured, his breath warm on the side of her face. "This is the present."

Mara pulled a little away from him. "And as head of the Jedi academy and brother of High Councilor Organa Solo you should at least put in an appearance at the ceremony?" she suggested. He gave her a wry look. "Yes, that's just about what I was going to say," he acknowledged. "I can see this is going to take some getting used to."

"There's still time for you to back out," she pointed out.

He kissed her warmly. "Not a chance," he said. "I'll see you later." Setting down his mug, he headed for the door. "Hang on a minute," Mara said, stepping away from the viewport and her tantalizingly brief vision of the future. As Luke had said, this was the present. The future would take care of itself. "I'll come with you."

®, ™ and Copyright © 1999 by Lucasfilm Ltd.

ISBN: 0-553-10035-1