Vision of the future

CHAPTER

6

It was on her fifteenth day in the darkness of the Nirauan cave when Mara Jade awoke to discover a rescuer had finally arrived.

It was not, however, any of the potential rescuers she would have expected. Mara?

She sat up suddenly in her bedroll, blinking her eyes reflexively open despite the fact that in the pitch-darkness there was absolutely nothing to see. The sense of someone calling to her had been wordless, but as clear as if her name had been spoken aloud. She stretched out with the Force... And as she did so, the sense of his presence came drifting in to her. His presence, and his identity. It was Luke.

The tone of his emotions changed, the hard edge of anxiety permeating it turning abruptly to relief as he sensed her response and knew that she was unhurt. A new touch of anticipation flowed into his mind, and as she focused she could sense a physical darkness around him. Best guess was that he was in the cave, she decided, probably working his way her direction.

Which unfortunately meant that his anticipation was a bit premature. Finding the cave was one thing; finding each other within its multiple twistings was going to be something else entirely. But Luke already had that covered. To her wordless question came a renewed sense of assurance from him; and even as she frowned, she caught a sense of others around him, beings who he seemed to be following. Apparently, some of the mynocklike creatures who had hauled her in here in the first place were acting as guides.

She looked up at the ceiling and walls around her. More of the creatures were up there, silently watching her. "Skywalker's coming," she called up into the darkness. "You happy?" They were. Even with her frustrating inability to hear their words directly, there was no mistaking the surge of excitement that rippled through them. "I'm so pleased," she said. Standing up, she felt her way toward the subterranean creek gurgling its way through the rock a few meters away. She'd picked this spot early on in her captivity as a place where she would have water available, and in the days since then had learned to navigate the trip without using her glow rod. She reached the creek, located the conveniently placed flat rock where she kept the small bottle of personal cleaning solution from her survival kit, and stripped off her jumpsuit. The outfit itself was one of the top-of-the-line brands that was standard issue aboard Karrde's ships and shrugged off dirt and oils with ease. Mara herself, unfortunately, did not; and if she had company coming it seemed only reasonable to make herself presentable.

The water was shallow, swift-moving, and icy cold. Mara splashed it all over herself, trying not to sputter too much with the thermal shock. A few drops of cleaning solution rubbed vigorously into skin and hair, another agonizing dip into the liquid ice of the creek to rinse off, and she was through. An only marginally warmer breeze flowed along the same path as the water, and she stood in the draft for a few minutes, brushing off excess water and fluffing her hair until she was mostly dry. Getting back into her jumpsuit, she collected her things and headed back to her encampment. Just in time. She was still sorting her equipment back into their proper niches in her pack when she caught the first flickers of reflected light against the rocky walls and high ceiling. Rolling up her bedroll and tucking it into her pack, she sat down on her "chair"—another mostly flat rock—and waited.

It seemed to take an inordinate amount of time before the bouncing light finally resolved itself into a Jedi Master carrying a glow rod; but when it did she finally understood the reason for the slow trip. Luke himself was burdened down with what looked like the sort of

everything-but-a-set-of-alluvial-dampers survival kit Karrde's people liked to put together; and trundling awkwardly but gamely along beside him on the uneven ground was his R2 astromech droid.

"Mara?" Luke called, his voice echoing through the cave.

"Right here," Mara called back, standing up and waving her glow rod. "You sure took your time."

"Sorry," he said dryly, making his way to her. "We couldn't find the local airspeeder-hire stand and had to walk. You look good."

"You look terrible," she countered, running a critical eye over him. His jacket and the jumpsuit beneath it were stained with dirt and sweat and dotted here and there with small rips and punctures.

"How far did you walk, anyway? Halfway around the planet?"

"No, only about ten kilometers," he said, shrugging the pack off his shoulders onto the ground and running a hand through his hair. "But it was cliffs and wilderness all the way."

"And thornbushes, apparently," Mara added, gesturing toward the tears in his jumpsuit. "You want to get cleaned up? There's a stream right over there that doesn't have too much ice floating in it." The droid gurgled. "Maybe later," Luke said. "How have they been treating you?" Mara shrugged. "Ambiguously," she said. "At first I thought I was being held prisoner. But they didn't seem to mind if I moved around the immediate area, so I thought I might have been mistaken. On the other hand, they also wouldn't let me go too far in any direction, and they've still got my lightsaber and the blaster they took from me."

"Your blaster?"

"Yes, my blaster," Mara said, putting a drop-it tone into her voice. The aliens had taken both of her main weapons; but they'd missed the tiny backup blaster snugged in its holster against her left forearm. Up till now she hadn't had occasion to use it, but she didn't want Luke announcing its existence, either. "And my lightsaber," she repeated. "So now I'm not sure what's going on."

"Yes, my Qom Jha guides told me you have trouble understanding them," Luke said. Apparently, he'd gotten the message about the blaster. "It sounds to me like the reason they brought you in here was to keep you safe."

"I was afraid of that," Mara said, feeling her cheeks warming and hoping the chagrin didn't show. Bad enough that someone had had to come all the way out here to the edge of Unknown Space to rescue her after she walked the side of her head into that rock. Even worse that it had to be Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, who probably had a million better things to do with his time. But for the

"rescue" to be from what was essentially an impromptu alien baby-sitting service was embarrassing beyond words.

"Don't worry about it," Luke said quietly.

She blushed harder. "Blast it, Skywalker, stay out of my mind." She felt his own flush of embarrassment at the unintended intrusion. "Sorry," he apologized. "But I didn't mean it that way. They say they needed to protect you because you were being hunted by the Threateners from the High Tower."

Mara frowned, her embarrassment abruptly forgotten. "The Threateners?"

"That's the Qom Jha name for them," Luke said. "Beings similar to us, they say, and allied with the Empire."

"Terrific," Mara murmured. With her attention these past few days focused on survival and the exploration of her surroundings, the reason why she'd come to Nirauan in the first place had rather been lost in the back of her mind.

But now it was suddenly back in a rush: the mysterious spaceship she and Luke had spotted skulking around the Cavrilhu Pirate base, and the one that later had buzzed Booster Terrik's private Star Destroyer. Alien beings and alien technology, but with a distinctly Imperial flavor mixed into the design. "So we were right," she said. "They were hunting for Imperials at the Cavrilhu base."

"It's starting to sound that way," Luke said. "Though don't forget we only have the Qom Jha word for that. We'll need to check it out for ourselves."

"Um." Mara eyed him. "So they can talk to you, huh?"

"Through the Force, yes." Luke paused, eyes slightly unfocused as if he were listening to a faint sound. Mara stretched out to the Force herself, but aside from the creatures' normal chirping she could still catch only the familiar almost-voices making almost-words. "You can't hear that?" he asked.

"Not understandably," Mara admitted. The thought annoyed her almost as much as having to be rescued. "What are they saying?"

"At the moment, not much," Luke said. "They're waiting for their Bargainer to arrive. I gather from an earlier conversation I had with a group called the Qom Qae that that's the local term for leader or spokesman."

"Ah." Mara frowned as a ripple of displeasure ran through the almost-voices. "I get the distinct feeling they don't like the Qom Qae very much."

"Yes, I know," Luke agreed, his tone a little uneasy. "Actually, it may be partially my fault. I think they're displeased that I brought a Qom Qae in here with me."

"Not necessarily the most politic thing you could have done."

"He spent the last couple of days guiding me here," Luke said, sounding a little defensive. "He wanted to come inside and see you, and I decided he'd earned that much. Besides, whatever's going on probably concerns both groups."

"Could be." Mara glanced around them. "Where is this guide of yours?"

"Up there somewhere," Luke said, playing the beam from his glow rod around the ceiling. Each of the mynocklike Qom Jha twitched as the spot of light passed, shying away from the glare. All except one, a somewhat smaller creature whose leathery hide seemed to be a slightly different color than that of the beings clustered closely around him. Also unlike the others, who hung casually from cracks or bumps in the ceiling, he was perched awkwardly upright on a rock jutting out from the wall. "That him?" Mara asked.

"Yes," Luke said, holding the light there a moment and then turning it back toward the ground.

"He's called Child Of Winds."

Mara nodded, thinking back to her flight in through the deep canyon and all the small caves she'd noticed pockmarking the rock walls along the way. "I take it the Qom Qae are cliff-dwellers?"

"His nesting is, anyway," Luke said. "His father is also their Bargainer."

"Friends in high places," Mara said. "That could be handy."

"I'm not sure 'friends' is exactly the word I would have used," Luke said dryly. "They seem to have made off with my X-wing when I wasn't looking, and Child Of Winds either can't or won't tell me where they took it. It must have taken a whole lot of them to even move it."

"It did," Mara said with a grimace. "I know because I watched the Qom Jha do the same thing with my Defender, hauling it into the cave to who knows where. Looks like they've got more in common with the Qom Qae than they might like."

"Actually, your Defender isn't very far away," Luke said. "Artoo and I spotted it on our way in. He gave it a quick scan—it didn't seem to be damaged."

"That's a relief," Mara said, a small amount of the weight lifting from her back. The Defender might be useless for getting her home, but without it she couldn't even get off the ground. "After everything Karrde went through to get his hands on it, he'd kill me if I lost it. When's he getting here with backup?"

Luke winced. "Well, to be honest... I told him not to send anyone else." Mara felt her mouth go a little dry. "Did you, now," she said, striving to keep her voice calm. If Luke was starting to slip back into his old omnipotent-Jedi habits... "You don't think the two of us tackling a whole fortress full of unknown enemies is giving us too much of an advantage, do you?" An odd look flicked across his face. "That's not it at all," he protested. "I just didn't think it would be a good idea for a full battle force to come storming into the system. Especially since we didn't know whether or not you were a prisoner."

"I suppose that makes sense," Mara conceded, the knots untying a little. "I guess that means you don't have a Star Cruiser skulking in the outer system, either?"

"I doubt the New Republic could spare even an armed transport right now," Luke said, his expression turning grim. "Things are getting very nasty out there."

"Let me guess. Caamas and the Bothans?"

"Caamas, the Bothans, and a thousand worlds using Caamas as an excuse to pick up on old grudges against their neighbors," he told her. "And frankly, I'm starting to wonder if there's any way at all of stopping it."

"That's a cheery thought," Mara growled. "Let's deal with one problem at a time, all right? Starting with confirming these Threateners are the same ones we're looking for. We think we spotted one of those alien ships on its way in when we came out of lightspeed, but it was too far away for a positive identification."

"Oh, they're the right ones," Luke assured her. "I had two of them escort me in, then try to shoot me down."

Mara grimaced. "I guess that says whose side they're on."

"Not necessarily," Luke cautioned. "Or at least, not permanently. We might be able to persuade them—wait a second. The Bargainer's here."

Mara nodded; she'd already sensed the anticipation flowing ahead of the new arrival. "You're going to have to translate for me," she told him. "I wish I could hear them myself."

"It would sure make things easier," Luke agreed, forehead wrinkling with thought. "I wonder if—here, give me your hand."

"My hand?" Mara echoed, frowning, as she extended her left hand toward him.

"I can sense them," he explained, taking her hand with his right and gripping it firmly, "and we can sense each other. If we can make that link strong enough..."

"Worth a try," Mara agreed, stretching out to the Force. The aliens' communications were indeed clearer now, like whispered words beneath the chirping just a little too soft to hear. She stretched out harder, frowning with concentration.

"Let's try this," Luke said, stepping close to her side and turning to face the same direction she was. Shifting her hand from his right to his left, he slipped his right arm around her waist and leaned over to touch the side of his head against hers.

And in that moment, like a faulty display whose self-tuning had just come on-line, the vague sounds and sensations she'd been picking up for the past two weeks abruptly coalesced into words.

— the Bargainer for this nesting of the Qom Jha, the words flowed through her mind. I am known as Eater Of Fire Creepers. The Qom Jha rejoice that you have come to us at last.

"We're glad to be here," Luke said gravely. "I'm Luke Skywalker, as you seem to already know. This is my friend and ally, Mara Jade."

A wave of emotion swept the chamber. Why do you bring her here to us, Master Walker Of Sky? Eater Of Fire Creepers demanded, an odd sort of caution in his tone. Luke frowned. "I didn't bring her; she came of her own volition. Is there a problem?" Did you not heed our message regarding this Jaded Of Mara? Eater Of Fire Creepers asked. You surely must have received it by now.

"I've received no messages from you," Luke said. "When and where was it sent?" I do not understand, Eater Of Fire Creepers said, sounding wary now. What do you mean by no messages?

"I mean no messages," Luke said. "I'd never heard of you or this world until I was told by Mara's friends about her capture."

But the messages have been delivered, Eater Of Fire Creepers insisted. It was so promised by the Bargainer of the Qom Qae—

He broke off, his wings fluttering ominously. You— Qom Qae, he bit out. Stand forward and speak in your nesting's defense.

There was a sudden commotion by the section of wall where Child Of Winds had been perched. Mara flicked her glow rod that direction, just in time to see the small Qom Qae drop toward the floor to avoid three Qom Jha attempting to pounce on him. They altered direction toward him; changing direction himself, Child Of Winds curved up and over toward a wide crack in the opposite wall near the ceiling. "Leave him alone!" Luke called sharply. "He's just a child." He is a Qom Qae, the Bargainer spat as Child Of Winds dived headfirst into the crack. He bears the responsibility for his nesting's treacheries.

Luke let go of Mara's hand and took a long step away from her. "You will not harm or harass him," he said in a tone of command, his words punctuated by the snap-hiss and brilliant green blade of his lightsaber. "Leave him alone, and I will question him." A Jedi with ignited lightsaber, in Mara's experience, was a sight that normally caused sentient beings to pause for a moment or two of sober reflection. The Qom Jha either didn't understand, didn't care, or else assumed that five meters of vertical space would be adequate protection from the glowing weapon beneath them. In the green light Mara could see Child Of Winds trying to wedge himself more tightly into the limited protection of the crack, his claws slashing ineffectually toward the three Qom Jha fluttering around him. A half-felt command from the Bargainer, no longer understandable now that Luke had moved away from her, and another group of Qom Jha detached themselves from the ceiling and moved in toward the confrontation.

And it was time, she decided, to remind the aliens exactly who it was they were dealing with here. Tossing her glow rod over to her left hand, she snatched her backup blaster from its forearm holster with her right and fired three precisely placed shots into the wall around Child Of Winds's hiding place.

With a startled screech the attacking Qom Jha shied back from the blasts and flying rock chips, fluttering for a moment before settling into new positions on the ceiling away from the besieged Qom Qae. Another half-sensed command from the Bargainer, and a taut silence descended on the cavern.

"A minute ago you called him Master," Mara called toward the aliens. "Is he a Jedi Master to be respected and obeyed, or isn't he?"

There was a rush of almost-words. "Translation?" Mara murmured.

"He said, 'You have no place to speak thus to the Bargainer of the Qom Jha,' " Luke told her, shifting his lightsaber to his left hand and stepping back to her side. Keeping a wary gaze on the ceiling, he again put his arm around her and touched his head to hers—

— indeed, even now you hang clutched to crumbling rock, Eater Of Fire Creepers's voice came into her mind again. Do you deny you are the same Jaded Of Mara who once flew with the nesting of the Empire?

Luke's arm seemed to tense across Mara's back. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously. Those in the High Tower have made great rustlings and bargainings about this being, Eater Of Fire Creepers said, his tone dark. Perhaps it is our trust in you which hangs from crumbling rock, Master Walker Of Sky.

"Or maybe the crumbling rock is in your own heads," Mara countered before Luke could reply.

"If any allies of the Empire are talking about me, it's because I'm near the top of their list of enemies. Or didn't you bother to listen to the entire conversation?"

The Bargainer fluttered his wings again, but this time there was a touch of uncertainty to the gesture. Their language is not easily understandable, he conceded. Yet we have been betrayed once already by the Qom Qae, and do not wish to add one betrayal to another. Master Walker Of Sky, you said you would force the Qom Qae to speak in his nesting's defense?

"I said I would question him," Luke corrected mildly, closing down his lightsaber. "Child Of Winds, come down here."

There was a moment of hesitation; and then the Qom Qae worked his way out of the crack and dropped down to land on a stone beside Luke. I am here, Jedi Sky Walker, he said, keeping a wary eye on the ceiling.

"Did your nesting of the Qom Qae receive messages for me or for the New Republic from this nesting of the Qom Jha?" Luke asked. "And did your Bargainer promise Eater Of Fire Creepers your nesting would deliver those messages?"

Child Of Winds seemed to hunch his wings over his head, a heavy sense of nervous guilt rippling from him. It is not my place to bargain for my nesting, he said. Hunter Of Winds—

Hunter Of Winds is not here, Eater Of Fire Creepers cut him off brusquely. You will answer the question.

Child Of Winds sank lower into his wings. It is as you say, he conceded reluctantly.

"Well, that's handy," Mara muttered. "We could have known about this place years ago."

"Sounds that way," Luke said. "Why weren't the messages delivered, Child Of Winds?" Hunter Of Winds concluded it would not be safe, the young Qom Qae said. A Qom Qae would need to attach himself to one of the Threateners' flying machines and endure a long journey through the cold and dark before he could reach you.

That is no reason for betrayal of your bargainings, Eater Of Fire Creepers said contemptuously. The Qom Qae have flown thus through the darkness many times, or so they claim. Admit that it was cowardice and fear that caused your betrayal. You of the Qom Jha are safe in your caves, Child Of Winds shot back. We of the Qom Qae live in the open air.

Do the Threateners not threaten us all? Eater Of Fire Creepers demanded, fluttering his wings. Do the Threateners come into your caves to seek vengeance from the Qom Jha? the young Qom Qae countered. Their vengeance would rest solely on the Qom Qae. Did the Qom Jha not first risk their lives seeking to learn the Threateners' plans? Do the Qom Jha not continue to take such risks?

Do the Qom Jha learn anything of value? Did you not mistake this friend and ally of Jedi Sky Walker as one flying in the Threateners' nesting?

"Enough," Luke called into the argument. "Whatever has happened is over and done with, and trying to share out the blame won't gain us anything. Fine, so the messages weren't delivered. But we're here now, and we're ready to help you."

"The question," Mara added, "is whether you're worthy of our help." Luke half turned to frown at her. "What are you—?"

"Quiet," she muttered. "Trust me. Well, Eater Of Fire Creepers?" There was another awkward silence. We fear the Threateners, the Bargainer conceded almost grudgingly. The Qom Jha and Qom Qae alike fly in the shadow of their talons. We would seek to have this threat removed, if you are willing.

"Yes, we understand your wishes," Mara said. "But that's not the question. The question is whether you deserve our assistance. And if so, how you intend to prove it." What proof do you seek?

"For starters, we'll need assistance getting into the High Tower," Mara said. "I assume your people have been getting in from somewhere in this cave system; we'll need guides to that entrance. After that, we may need some of you to run interference or scout out the territory." The Bargainer fluttered his wings. Your request will put this nesting in danger.

"Your request puts us in danger," Mara countered. "Would you rather we just call off the whole thing and leave right now?"

There was a brief undercurrent of conversation, either too fast or too alien for Mara to pick up. "I hope you know what you're doing," Luke murmured.

"No matter how you slice it, we're going to need guides," Mara said. "Anyway, I've dealt with this sort of culture before. Anyone who calls their leader 'Bargainer' expects to be bargained with. Offering to do something for them free of charge and hoping they'll reciprocate usually doesn't work. Makes them suspicious, for one thing."

Beside Luke, Child Of Winds stirred. What will you do with me now, Jedi Sky Walker? he asked.

"Don't worry," Luke said. "I'll make sure you're given safe passage out of here and back to your nesting."

The Qom Qae hunched his wings. I cannot go back.

Luke frowned. "Why not?"

They will not take me back, he said. I have disobeyed the Bargainer of the Qom Qae, and will not be allowed to rejoin the nesting.

Luke cocked his head to the side. "Won't be allowed to rejoin?" he asked pointedly. "Or won't be allowed to rejoin without punishment?"

The young alien's emotions twitched. I would prefer to go with you to the High Tower, he said. If I may see directly the dangers posed by these Threateners, I will understand them better. Perhaps I will be able to persuade others of the Qom Qae to assist you.

"As I said: bargainers," Mara said wryly.

"Yes, I'm beginning to understand," Luke said in the same tone. "I appreciate the offer, Child Of Winds. But this is likely to be very dangerous."

Will your machine travel with you?

Mara glanced over at the astromech droid, standing off to the side warbling quietly to himself.

"That's a good question," she agreed. "He'll definitely slow us down."

"True, but if we want any chance of accessing the High Tower's computer systems we'll need him along," Luke pointed out.

"Assuming he can even interface with those networks," Mara warned. "They are aliens, you know."

"We know they use Imperial technology in their spaceships," Luke reminded her. "Chances are good they'll have at least a couple of our computers up there, too." If your machine travels with you, why may not I? Child Of Winds spoke up again. Once in the bright lights and open air of the High Tower, I would be a better scout than these cave-dwellers.

"Except that you don't know anything about the High Tower," Luke said. "Besides, considering the rivalry between your two nestings, I don't think Eater Of Fire Creepers will want you poking around his territory any longer than you have to."

Child Of Winds fluffed his wings. Then perhaps it is time that rivalry is ended, he said loftily. Perhaps it is time for one brave and honorable Qom Qae to stand forth and heal the crumbled rock beneath our talons.

Luke and Mara exchanged looks. "You?" Luke hazarded.

Do you doubt my sincerity? Child Of Winds retorted. I, who defied the Bargainer of my own nesting to bring you here?

"It's not your sincerity we're questioning," Luke assured him. "It's—well—" It is my age, then, the young Qom Qae said, his tone distinctly huffy now. You do not believe that a child still called by his father's name can accomplish great deeds. Abruptly, Mara noticed that the discussion on the ceiling had ceased. Eater Of Fire Creepers and the other Qom Jha were listening closely to the conversation going on below them. And it occurred to her that with a member of a rival nesting along on the trip, whoever Eater Of Fire Creepers sent with them would bend over double to show how much more helpful the Qom Jha could be. "No, we're not worried about your age," she told Child Of Winds. "After all, I was still almost a child when I went on my first mission for the Emperor. Luke wasn't that much older when he began to fly with the warriors of the Rebellion."

She could feel Luke's frown. But he'd obviously picked up on her tone, because he nodded agreement. "She's right," he told the Qom Qae. "Sometimes the desire to succeed and the willingness to learn are more important than age or experience."

"The 'willingness to learn' part meaning you obey orders," Mara added sternly, "If one of us tells you to stop, move, duck, or get out of the way, you do it and ask questions afterward. Understand?" I will obey without question, Child Of Winds said, and there was no mistaking the youthful exuberance in his tone. You will not regret your decision.

Luke looked up at the Qom Jha. "The Qom Qae have given us the services of their Bargainer's child," he said. "What do the Qom Jha offer as proof of their own worthiness?" It will be hard indeed for the Qom Jha to match such a valuable gift, Eater Of Fire Creepers said, a distinct note of sarcasm to his tone. Still, we can but try. He fluttered his wings in silent command, and three of the Qom Jha dropped from the ceiling to land on rock perches in front of Luke and Mara. Splitter Of Stones, Keeper Of Promises, and Builder With Vines have all defied the dangers of the caverns to enter the High Tower. They will guide you there and protect you as best they can from the dangers of the caverns.

"Thank you," Luke said, inclining his head. "It appears that the Qom Jha are indeed worthy of our assistance."

The Qom Jha are pleased to be so considered, Eater Of Fire Creepers said. The way is long, though, and for beings without flight the journey to the entrance will require several suncycles. When you reach the place and are prepared to enter, send word back and other hunters of the Qom Jha will join you to serve as protectors.

"That will be most helpful," Luke said. "Again, I thank you."

"And I'll want my blaster and lightsaber back, too," Mara added. They will be returned at once, Eater Of Fire Creepers promised. We will speak again, Master Walker Of Sky. Until then, farewell.

He dropped from the ceiling and flapped away into the darkness beyond the reach of the glow rods, followed by the rest of the Qom Jha. A minute later, only Child Of Winds and their three Qom Jha guides remained.

"That seemed to work out all right," Mara commented.

"It did indeed," Luke agreed. "I take it all back."

"Take all what back?"

"Whatever doubts I might have had," he said. "You were brilliant. How soon can you be ready to go?"

"I'm ready now," Mara said, running a critical eye over him. "But then, I've just been sitting around for the last two weeks with nothing to do but count rocks. The question is whether you're up for a hike or if you'd rather take a few hours to rest up first."

The droid warbled feelingly. "I think Artoo's voting for a rest," Luke said with a smile. The smile faded. "But, no, I think we ought to get moving as soon as we can. You heard the Bargainer—we've still got a long way ahead of us."

"And you've got a million better things to do back home," Mara said, feeling a fresh surge of guilt.

"I didn't say that," Luke said mildly.

"Doesn't mean it's not true," she growled. "Look, if you want to leave, I'm sure the Qom Jha and I—"

"No," he said quickly.

Quickly; and just a little too sharply. "Someone step on your foot there?" she asked, eyeing him curiously.

But if there had been any clues in his expression, they were buried now. "I need to be here," he said quietly. "Don't ask me why."

For a few heartbeats they gazed at each other. Mara stretched out with the Force, but Luke's emotions weren't giving away anything more than his face was. "All right," she said at last. "Let me get my pack. I don't suppose Karrde thought to send a spare glow rod along with you."

"As a matter of fact, he sent three," Luke said, crouching down beside his pack and pulling one of them from an outside pocket. "Oh, and I should refill these water bottles before we leave. You said there was a stream nearby?"

"It's right over there," Mara said, waving that direction as she stepped over to her pack and squatted down beside it. "Hang on a second and I'll show you." No, she wouldn't ask, she decided as she secured the seals. Not now. But she would find a way to bring up the subject again later.

Because whatever it was, it was something that had Luke worried. And anything that worried a Jedi Knight was something that deserved very careful attention indeed.

"Okay," she said, getting to her feet and slinging the pack over one shoulder. "Follow me. And watch your step."

CHAPTER

7

"That's it," Han said, nodding out the Falcon's viewport. "Pakrik Minor. Not much to look at, is it?"

"It's beautiful," Leia assured him, gazing out at the speckled blue-green world looming in front of them. A vacation. A real vacation. No Coruscant; no politics; no Caamas issue; no ancient vengeances and smoldering wars. Not even any children, droids, or watchful Noghri underfoot. Just her and Han and silence. "Farms and forests, you said?"

"That's all there is," he promised. "And we're going to get a little of both. Sakhisakh called while you were at the closing ceremonies and said they'd found a nice little inn run by a farm family right at the edge of one of the forests."

"Sounds wonderful," Leia said dreamily. "Did he give you any more grief about him and Barkhimkh having to wait for us at the spaceport?"

"Oh, they're still not happy about leaving us alone like this," Han said with a shrug. "Especially not after that riot on Bothawui. But they know how to obey orders." He smiled slyly. "And I think he felt better when I told him we'd be running under a fake ID."

Leia blinked. "A what?"

"Yeah—didn't I tell you?" Han asked, radiating innocence. "I brought along an old smuggler ID to book the room with."

She sent him one of her repertoire of patient looks. "Han, you know we can't do that."

"Sure we can," he said, as usual ignoring the look. "Anyway, you're supposed to be leaving everything to me, remember?"

"I don't remember lawbreaking being on the program," Leia said. But the tensions were already starting to fade away, and she discovered with mild surprise that the issue of false IDs wasn't even sending a ripple of guilt through her conscience. Considering some of the things she'd done in her life—including open and active rebellion against a legally established government—this was hardly something to get worked up over. "You wouldn't get away with it if Threepio was here."

"Not without having to listen to a lecture, anyway," Han said, making a face. Leia smiled. "Oh, come on, Han. Admit it—you miss him, too."

"I do not," Han protested. "I just—never mind."

"Never mind what?"

Han grimaced. "Thinking about Threepio makes me think about Karrde; and I still don't like the idea of him heading off to the Outer Rim with that Shada D'ukal woman. I know you didn't pick up any treachery when we talked to her, but I still think she's trouble." Leia sighed. Shada D'ukal, former bodyguard to the smuggler chief Mazzic, who had casually slipped through the Noghri screen around their Manarai Mountain apartment and invited herself into their private strategy session with Karrde and Lando. A potentially powerful ally? Or an equally deadly enemy? "I don't particularly like it, either," she told Han. "But Karrde's a big boy, and it was his idea to take her along. Did you ever get in touch with Mazzic to ask about her, by the way?" Han shook his head. "The word's still floating around the fringe that I want to talk to him, but nothing came through before we left Pakrik Major. 'Course, now it'll have to wait till we get back." Leia raised her eyebrows. "You mean you didn't even tell your smuggler contacts we were going to Pakrik Minor? You are serious about this being a vacation."

"Nice," he growled.

Silence descended on the cockpit. Leia watched Pakrik Minor as it came steadily closer, trying to recover the mood she'd had before the topic of Karrde and Shada had come up. But for some reason the peace refused to come. She stretched out with the Force, trying to calm her thoughts and emotions...

On the control panel, the proximity warning began beeping. "Crazy hotshots," Han muttered, frowning at the displays. "What in space do they think they're doing?" And with the shock of a slap to the face Leia suddenly understood. "Han, look out!" she blurted. He reacted instantly, old smuggler's reflexes combining with unquestioning faith in his wife's Jedi abilities to send the Falcon into a sharp sideways drop—

Just as a pair of brilliant red laser bolts sliced through space above them.

"Deflectors!" Han snapped, straightening out of his drop and throwing the ship into another turn. Leia had already hit the switch. "On," she confirmed, keying the weapons panel and taking a quick look at the aft display. There were three small ships back there, starfighter size, firing again as they scrambled to match the Falcon's maneuvers. No IDs on any of them. "Is this part of the entertainment?"

"Not on my ticket," Han gritted. "Thanks for the warning."

"You almost didn't get one," Leia confessed, squeezing off a salvo of shots from the Falcon's upper quad laser battery. All four shots missed. "I thought the sense nagging at me was just me worrying about Karrde and Shada."

"Well, you can start worrying about us if you'd rather," Han said, throwing the ship into a spiraling loop. "Whoever these guys are, they're good."

"I didn't want to hear that," Leia said, keying the comm. Time to call for help from Pakrik Defense.

But their attackers were way ahead of her. "They're jamming our transmissions," she told Han grimly. "Even the private New Republic frequencies."

"Like I said, they're good," Han grunted, leaning the Falcon into another evasive turn. "You notice they waited until we were too close in to the planet to jump to lightspeed, too." More laser bolts flashed past, closer this time. Leia fired another burst in response, again missing.

"They're too maneuverable for the targeting linkage down here to handle," she said.

"Yeah, I know," Han said. "I'm heading up to the upper quad. Get ready to take over." Leia winced. Up there at the top of the ship, with nothing between him and the attackers' lasers except the Falcon's shields and a few centimeters of transparisteel... But he was right: one of them had to do it. And even with her Jedi skills to draw on, she wasn't nearly as good a gunner as he was. "I'm ready," she said, gripping the copilot's helm yoke. The only way to protect him now was to make sure none of those lasers connected. "Any suggestions on strategy?"

"Just try to keep us out of their sights," Han said, leaning some more on his yoke. Almost reluctantly, the Falcon pulled out of its loop— "Okay; go," he said, keying control over to Leia's side and in the same motion sliding out of his seat. "Got it?"

"Got it," Leia acknowledged. "Be careful."

"Yeah," Han said, and sprinted out of the cockpit.

Leia gave him five seconds to get to the ladder, then spun the ship into a dip-and-turn maneuver designed to confuse an attacker into overshooting his target. But their pursuers were too smart to be taken in quite so easily. A glance at the aft display showed they were still there, sticking to the Falcon like starving mynocks. Another salvo shot past, this time a few of the bolts spattering off the Falcon's deflector shield.

"Okay, I'm here," Han's voice announced over the comm unit. "How you doing?"

"Not as well as I'd like," Leia told him. "I think they've found the range."

"Yeah, I noticed," he said dryly. "It's okay—she'll hold together. Just keep 'em off a few more seconds."

"I'll try," Leia said, throwing the ship into another wrenching evasive pattern and trying desperately to come up with something more concrete than just trying to stay out of their way. But there was just so little here to work with. There was Han and her and the Falcon, with the attackers crowding them from behind and the sky-filling disk of Pakrik Minor starting to crowd them from in front. Pakrik Minor... "Han, I'm going to take us in toward the planet," she called into the comlink.

"Even with them jamming us, if we can get in close enough someone ought to notice what's happening and call in an alert."

"Sounds good," he said. "But be careful. These guys aren't built for atmosphere maneuvers, but neither are we. Hah!"

"What?"

"Got one. Didn't slow him down, but I think I took out his shields. Get 'er moving." The deadly game continued. Leia pushed the Falcon's sublight drive for all it was worth, twisting their tortured way toward the growing bulk of Pakrik Minor. The hail of laser fire continued, most of it missing, but enough of the shots were connecting to become distinctly worrisome. Already the red indicators on the status boards outnumbered the green, with their number creeping up with every salvo. Unbidden, a memory flashed: her first ride in the Falcon as they tore madly away from the Death Star, blasting their way through the TIE fighter sentry line in their bid for escape. But Luke had been with them then, and Chewie and Threepio and Artoo. And the Falcon had been younger, less temperamental. Besides which, Vader and Tarkin had in fact wanted them to escape...

Abruptly, the memory was shattered by a brilliant flash from above and behind her. "Han—!"

"Got him!" Han's voice crowed from the comlink. "One down, two to go. She holding together?" Leia threw a quick look at the status boards. "Yes, but just barely. We've lost the ion flux stabilizers and we're down to less than half power on the sublight. Looks like another direct hit and we'll lose the rear deflector, too."

Han grunted. "Sounds like it's time to try something clever. You ever done a smuggler's reverse?"

"Once or twice," Leia said cautiously. "But I already tried a dip-and-turn, and that didn't do any good. They probably know all about smuggler's reverses."

"Yeah, but you're not going to do it like they expect," Han said. "You're going to swing the Falcon around like you're bringing her to a hard stop; but instead you're going to keep spinning the rest of the way around until you're pointing at the planet again and then gun her for all she's got. That ought to throw them off guard."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Hang on, I'm not done," Han said. "You give them a few seconds to hit their drives to try to catch up; and then you do a straight smuggler's reverse. With any luck, they'll shoot straight past us."

"Or ram straight into us," Leia said with a grimace. "You ready?"

"Ready. Do it."

"Here goes." Setting her teeth, Leia killed the drive and twisted the Falcon hard over. The stars spun dizzyingly around—she caught a glimpse of the two fighters braking hard to keep from overshooting their target—the sunlit bulk of Pakrik Minor swung back into view—

And she threw full power to the drive again, the acceleration pressing her back into her seat.

"Han?"

"Perfect," he reported with grim satisfaction. "Can you give me any more speed?"

"Sorry, this is it," she told him, checking the displays.

"That's okay, it'll do," he assured her. "Get ready. Smuggler's reverse... now." Bracing herself, Leia cut power and once again threw the Falcon into a spin. The attacking fighters swung back into view ahead of her, much closer this time and framed by the glow of their sublight drives flaring at full power. Killing the rotation, she threw power to the drive. The attackers tried. They really did. But even with their smaller size they had a fair amount of inertia, and with that much power already committed there was no possible way for them to stop. With their minds radiating frustration and helpless anger, they shot past the Falcon. Or rather, one of them did.

The shock of the impact threw Leia out of her seat, the awful crunching sound from somewhere aft ringing in her ears. "Leia!" Han's voice shouted as the echoing noise was joined by a dozen warbling alarms. "Leia!"

"I'm all right," Leia called back over the din. "Han, we've been hit."

"Are we leaking air?"

"I don't—I don't know," Leia stammered, blinking at the proper status board as something tried to obscure her vision. She swiped a hand across her eyes; it seemed to help. "No—hull's still intact. But the drive and repulsorlifts—"

"I'll be down in a minute," Han cut her off. "Just hold her together." A blaze of light and color caught the corner of Leia's eye. She looked up from the controls, startled to see Pakrik Minor rotating past in front of her again. The last remaining fighter was framed in the center of the planetary disk, waggling evasively as he tried to kill his speed. But even as he swung back around, Han caught him dead center with a full salvo from the quad. With a brilliant multiple flash of fire, he was gone.

"Okay, that does it," Han called. "I'm on my way, sweetheart." Leia nodded, swiping a hand across her eyes again and returning her attention to the status boards. The sublight drive was out, but the indicators weren't showing how much actual damage they'd taken. The repulsorlifts were in much the same shape; the doomed fighter must have hit the Falcon's underside and scraped its way back to the stern.

Hit off-center, too—the ship was still doing a slow spin. She keyed the auxiliaries to try to straighten them out, noticing only then that the hand she'd swiped across her eyes had a bright streak of blood on it. Stretching out to the Force, she probed the injury and set the healing process in motion.

And then Han was there, dropping into the pilot's seat beside her. "Okay, let's see," he muttered, keying his own status board. He glanced at her, did a startled double take as he spotted the blood on her forehead. "Leia—!"

"I'm all right—it's just a cut," Leia assured him. "What are we going to do about the drive?"

"Fix it, that's what," Han grunted, climbing out of the seat again. "And we'd better do it fast." He took off at a dead run. Leia finished adjusting the Falcon's rotation and looked up again—

And caught her breath. Pakrik Minor, which had been uncomfortably large during the battle, now filled that whole section of the sky.

And was getting closer.

The Falcon had been with the two of them all their married life, and with Han even longer than that, and Leia knew it would hurt him terribly to let the ship go. But it was the height of foolishness to hold so closely to any possession that it killed you. Grimacing, she keyed for escape pod activation. Nothing happened.

"Oh, no," she breathed, keying it again, and again. "No." But the result didn't change. The escape pods were inoperative.

And she and Han were trapped in a ruined ship, plummeting toward the ground. Swallowing hard, she keyed the comm. It would be close, but with the jamming now gone, maybe help could get to them in time.

But the comm indicator glowed red, one more casualty of the doomed fighter's impact. They were cut off, and all alone.

And they were about to die.

Leia took a deep breath, stretching out to the Force to silence the fear. Now was no time to panic. "Han, the escape pods aren't functional," she called, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

"I know," his taut voice came back. "I spotted that when I was up there. Try the restart booster." She found the key, pressed it. "Anything?"

"Not yet," he said. "Let me try something else."

"You want me to come help you?"

"No, I need you up there at the controls," Han said. "And keep an eye out—if you spot another ship, try firing an emergency signal blast from the quads."

And hope that any such convenient ships weren't running backup for the last group. "Right." The minutes dragged on. The red lights began to wink tentatively back to green as Han worked; but not enough of them, and not nearly fast enough. A whistling sound, soft at first but growing ever louder, began to fill the cockpit as the Falcon pushed its way through Pakrik Minor's upper atmosphere without the benefit of shields to dampen the sound and the friction. The deep black of space above her began to take on a slight haze as they drove ever deeper, and Leia could feel the temperature slowly edging up. Below her, the planetary features were beginning to take on form: here a lake, over there a mountain ridge, directly beneath and ahead a wide and fertile valley.

"Try the restart again," Han said into the silence of Leia's thoughts, his voice startling her.

"Right." She keyed the switch, and this time there was a tentative answering rumble from the drive.

"All right, easy," Han warned. "Don't try to stop us all at once—this jury-rig can't handle too much. Just ease in some power and see if you can start slowing us down. And if you've got any Jedi tricks up your sleeve, it's about time to give them a try."

"I'm already trying," Leia said, her heart aching within her. She had been trying, in fact, ever since realizing the full extent of the danger they were in. She'd tried to contact any Force-sensitives in the system, had quieted the distractions in Han's mind so that he could concentrate better on his work, had stretched out to the Force looking for guidance or inspiration. But none of it seemed to have helped; and with an almost overpowering sense of helplessness she knew there was nothing more she could do. She couldn't repair the sublight engines with a wave of her hand, or stop the Falcon's inexorable fall planetward, or call for help where none existed.

We're doomed. Threepio's oft-repeated wail echoed through her mind. It was just as well he wasn't here, she decided. Or the children, safe on Kashyyyk under Chewbacca's care. Or even their Noghri guards. If it was their time to die, there was no need for anyone else to go with them. Good-bye, Jacen, Jaina, Anakin, she thought toward the stars, knowing that the message would almost certainly not reach them, wishing with a deep regret that she could see them one last time. On the status board, almost lost in the chaos there, the proximity warning began beeping—

And to Leia's shock, a small craft roared past overhead. "Han!" she shouted. "Another ship just—"

She broke off, the sudden surge of hope catching like a bone in her throat. The ship had slowed to match speeds with the Falcon, riding above and just ahead of it, and giving her her first clear look at it.

"A ship?" Han called excitedly. "Where?"

Leia took a ragged breath. A second ship had joined the first now, paralleling the Falcon above and to the right, a third had taken up position on the left, and the aft display showed one more flying directly above the sublight vents. "Never mind," she told Han quietly. "They're Imperial TIE

interceptors."

CHAPTER

8

"They're what?" There was the staccato clank of a set of tools landing on the deck. "Hang on, I'm on my way."

Leia looked up at the ships pacing them. TIE interceptors, all right. In excellent condition, too, from what she could see of them, and she wondered where they could have come from. Surely the Imperials weren't launching an all-out attack on the Pakrik system; with the sector conference over and the delegates on their way back to their home systems there was nothing here they could possibly want.

Unless, of course, they were the backup for the first three fighters. In which case, they were here to make sure the job was finished.

With a screech of boots on hull plates Han skidded to a halt beside her. "What are they doing?" he panted, peering up at them.

Leia frowned. "Nothing," she said, realizing belatedly just how odd their lack of activity was. To just sit out there and watch them crash seemed overly sadistic, even for Imperials. At least for line soldiers; she'd known some Moffs and Grand Moffs who would have reveled in something like this.

"They're maneuvering," Han said suddenly, pointing. "That one on the left—see? He's drifting out a little."

"I see," Leia said. "But what's the maneuvering for?" An instant later she got her answer. In perfect unison, a bright yellow disk connected by a yellow cable shot out from the underside of each of the four TIEs, slamming solidly onto positions on the Falcon's upper hull. The cables went taut; and with a jerk that nearly knocked Han off his feet, the ship's descent abruptly slowed.

Leia looked up at Han, saw her own bewilderment mirrored in his face. "I'll be sat on by a Hutt," he murmured. "Grappling mags." He sank into the pilot's chair, looked over at her. "I give up. What's going on?"

Leia shook her head. "I don't know," she said slowly, stretching out with the Force. "But there's something about these pilots, Han."

"Like what?"

"I can't tell yet," Leia said again. "But something very strange."

"You're telling me." He nodded toward the viewport. "Well, whatever it is, we ought to find out about it pretty soon. Looks like we're already coming down."

He was right. They had passed over a line of low hills and the TIEs had now dropped to barely treetop height. Rolling along beneath them were vast fields of tallgrain, the neat rows rippling with the wind of their passage. They passed an access path, more fields, another path, still more fields. At the far side of this set were another collection of hills, taller than the group they'd passed a few kilometers back.

And at the base of the tallest of the hills, little more than a dark spot in the hazy afternoon sunlight, was a cave.

"Yeah, that's where we're going, all right," Han said. "Nice and private, unless whoever owns these fields happens to be out working them. Got a reception committee already waiting, too, I see." Leia nodded, squinting against the sunlight at the figures standing outside the cave. "I count... looks like ten of them."

"Plus the four TIE pilots, plus whoever else is hanging around inside," Han agreed, reaching under his control board and retrieving his blaster and holster from the storage niche there.

"You have a plan?" Leia asked, eyeing the blaster.

"Not really," Han said as he buckled on the holster. "I'm not going to charge out shooting, if that's what you're worried about. If they wanted us dead, they would have just let us crash."

"Maybe they think the children are with us," Leia said, a shiver of unpleasant memories running through her. After all the times her children had been kidnapped or threatened...

"If they do, they're going to be real disappointed," Han said, his tone deadly. Deliberately, he checked his blaster and shoved it back in the holster. "And in a lot of trouble, too." He nodded toward her waist. "Almost time for the party, hon. Shouldn't you be getting dressed, too?"

"Right," Leia said, pulling her lightsaber out of her board's storage compartment and hooking it to her belt. Calming her thoughts, she reached out to the Force for strength and wisdom. "I'm ready." A minute later they reached the hills; and directly in front of the cave, as Han had predicted, the TIEs slipped into full repulsorlift mode and eased the Falcon smoothly to the ground. They released the grappling mags and reeled them back in, and with practiced ease lined up and began maneuvering one by one into the cave.

"At least that explains how they showed up from nowhere," Han commented as he shut down what was left of the Falcon's systems. "Three'll get you the hand pot this is one of Grand Admiral Thrawn's sleeper cells."

"I always thought those were just a myth," Leia said, gazing into the darkness of the cave.

"Disinformation the Empire came up with after Thrawn—well, after we thought he was dead."

"I'm still not convinced he isn't," Han growled, standing up and stepping back toward the door.

"No point in putting this off. Let's go see what they want."

One of the reception committee was waiting at the bottom of the ramp as Han unsealed the hatchway. He was a tall man, roughly Han's height and strongly built, with dark eyes and a thick shock of long black hair. "Hello," he said, nodding as they started down the ramp. His voice was genial enough, but there was a definite tension in his face and stance. "Either of you hurt? Councilor, you're bleeding."

"Just a scratch," Leia assured him, rubbing at the dried blood. That odd sense she'd felt with the TIE pilots was back again, stronger than ever. "It's already mostly healed." The man nodded, some of his black hair dropping across his eyes with the movement. "Yes, of course. Jedi healing techniques."

"Where's the rest of your group?" Han asked, glancing around as they reached the bottom of the ramp.

"Checking out your ship," the man replied, pointing behind them. Leia turned. The others they'd seen waiting were walking around under the Falcon, looking and poking as they assessed the damage. "That second Korlier did a number on you, didn't it?" the first man continued. "You're lucky—if he'd rammed you a little higher up, he'd have taken out your power core and probably breached your hull along with it."

"So those were Korlier Flashships, huh?" Han said, his tone that of one professional exchanging shop talk with another. "I've heard of them, but never seen one before."

"They're not very common," the man agreed. "But since the Korlier Combine doesn't put serial numbers on any of their models, they're a favorite of people who don't want their identities traced."

"Sort of just the opposite of TIE interceptors," Han said pointedly, nodding back toward the cave opening.

The man gave him a bittersweet smile. "Something like that," he said. "My name's Sabmin Devist, by the way. Welcome to Imperial Sleeper Cell Jenth-44."

"Nice to be here," Han said with only a hint of sarcasm. "So what happens now?"

"We talk," a voice came from their right.

Leia turned. Coming around the side of the Falcon was a man dressed in a TIE pilot's flight suit. About Sabmin's height and build, she noticed, with a shorter version of his same black hair and a well-trimmed beard. "My name's Carib Devist, Councilor Organa Solo," he said as he crossed toward Sabmin. "I'm sort of the spokesman for this group."

"You're Sabmin's brother?" Leia asked. The family resemblance was obvious. Carib smiled faintly. "That's what we tell people," he said. "Actually..." He stepped to Sabmin's side. "Seeing as you're a Jedi, I don't suppose it'll take you long." Leia frowned, wondering what he was getting at. The two of them just stood there, watching her, Sabmin's hair rustling in the breeze...

And then, abruptly, it hit her. Sabmin, Carib—

She twisted her head. Behind them, the men who'd been examining the Falcon had come out from under the ship and were standing silently in a row, also watching. Different clothing, different hairstyles, some with beards or mustaches, here and there a scar—

But otherwise identical. Completely identical. "Han...?"

"Yeah," he said; and as she focused on his thoughts, she knew that he'd caught on, too. "Brothers, huh?"

Carib shrugged uncomfortably. "It sounds better," he said quietly, "than clones." For a long minute the only sound was the soft hiss of the breeze rustling through the tallgrain stalks. "Ah," Han said at last, his voice studiously casual. "That's nice. So what's it like being a clone?" Carib smiled bitterly—the exact same smile, Leia noted with a private shudder, that Sabmin had shown a minute earlier. "About as you'd expect," he said. "It's the sort of secret that gets heavier with time and age."

"Yeah," Han said. "I can imagine."

Carib's face hardened. "Excuse me, Solo, but you can't possibly imagine it. Every time one of us leaves this valley it's with the knowledge that every outside contact puts our lives and those of our families at risk. The knowledge that all it will take will be one person suddenly looking at us with new eyes, and the whole carefully created soap bubble of the ever-so-close Devist family will collapse into the fire of hatred and rage and murder."

"I think you're overstating your case a little," Leia suggested. "We're a long way past the devastation of the Clone Wars. The old prejudices aren't nearly so strong anymore."

"You think not, Councilor?" Carib countered. "You're a sophisticated woman, a politician and diplomat, fully accustomed to dealing with the whole spectrum of sentient beings. And you're good at it. Yet you, too, are feeling uncomfortable in our presence. Admit it." Leia sighed. "Perhaps a little," she conceded. "But I don't know you as well as your friends and neighbors do."

Carib shook his head. "We have no friends," he said. "And if we're a long way past the Clone Wars, we're not nearly so far past Grand Admiral Thrawn's use of soldiers like us in his bid for power."

"Is that who you're working for now?" Leia asked, studying Carib's face. There was something disturbingly familiar about him...

"The orders have come in over Thrawn's name," Carib said cautiously. "But of course, you can put any name on any order."

Beside her, Leia felt Han's sense suddenly change. "I got it," he said with a soft snap of his fingers.

"Baron Fel. Right?"

"Baron Soontir Fel?" Leia asked, her stomach tightening with the sudden realization. Yes, that was who Carib reminded her of: a young Soontir Fel. Once the Empire's top TIE pilot, Fel had married Wedge Antilles's sister and then been forced to strike a reluctant deal with Rogue Squadron to save his wife after Imperial Intelligence Director Ysanne Isard set out to kill her. The rescue had succeeded, but an impeccably laid trap had subsequently snared Fel himself back into Isard's hands. At that point he'd disappeared, presumably to a brief trial and a quick execution. Except that all that had happened only a few months after Endor, years before Thrawn had returned from the Unknown Regions and begun his cloning operation. Which left the question—

Han got there first. "So how come Fel lived long enough for Thrawn to get the cloning tanks up and running?" he asked.

Carib shook his head, a brief flicker of pain crossing his face. "We don't know," he said in a low voice. "Our flash-learning didn't include any of Fel's personal history. We assume—" He hesitated.

"We can only assume that whatever sympathies he might have had toward the New Republic were burned out of him by Isard."

"Or by Thrawn?" Han asked.

"Or by Thrawn," Carib agreed heavily. "Otherwise, I doubt Fel would have been thought reliable enough to have clones taken from him. No matter how good a pilot he was." There was another moment of silence. Leia stretched out with the Force, but if Carib was disturbed by the discussion of wrecked minds, it was masked by the odd clone-sense surrounding all of them. "Yet you saved our lives just now," she reminded him.

"Don't give them too much credit on that one," Han growled. "If they'd left us alone, we'd have hit dead center in this valley of theirs. You think their secret could have stood up to all the investigators who'd have swarmed over the place?"

"Yet our secret is now out anyway," Carib reminded him calmly. "Depending on what you decide to do."

"Maybe," Han said, his hand dropping casually to hover beside his blaster. "Or maybe depending on what you plan to do."

Carib shook his head. "You misunderstand. We have no intention of harming you. Nor do we wish to fight for Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Empire."

Han's forehead wrinkled. "So, what, you're surrendering?"

"Not exactly." Carib seemed to brace himself. "What we want—all that we want—is your word that we'll be left alone here."

Han and Leia exchanged glances. "You want what?" Leia asked.

"What, is that too high a price to pay for saving your lives?" Sabmin demanded. "Considering what you owe us—"

"Wait a minute," Han said, holding up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You were created by Thrawn?"

A muscle in Carib's cheek twitched, but he nodded. "Correct."

"This is Grand Admiral Thrawn we're talking about, right?" Han persisted. "The guy who wants to bring the Empire back? The guy who picked the best and most loyal TIE pilots, AT-AT drivers, and whatever to run through his clone tanks?"

Carib shook his head again. "You still don't understand. Certainly Baron Fel was loyal to the Empire, or at least what the Empire was before insane butchers like Isard took over. In his era, the Empire stood for stability and order."

"Which you in the New Republic could use a little more of at the moment," Sabmin put in pointedly.

"Let's leave the politics out of this," Leia put in quickly before Han could come up with a good retort. "I'm still confused. If Baron Fel was loyal to the Empire, and if you see the need to reestablish that kind of order—"

"And if Thrawn's really back," Han muttered.

"And if Thrawn's really back," Leia agreed, "then why would you want to sit this one out?" Carib smiled sadly. "Because for once, the great Grand Admiral Thrawn miscalculated," he said.

"There was one thing Fel cherished more than personal glory or even galactic stability." He waved a hand around him, the gesture taking in the fields surrounding them. "He loved the soil," he said quietly. "And so do we."

And finally Leia understood.

She looked at Han. "He's kidding, right?" her husband asked, his expression and thoughts clearly not believing any of it. "I mean—look, Luke couldn't wait to get off that farm on Tatooine."

"Luke was on a moisture farm in the middle of a desert," Leia reminded him, letting her gaze sweep slowly across the neat rows of tallgrain, her own memories of the rich vegetation of Alderaan tugging at her. "It was nothing like this."

"You feel it, too, don't you?" Carib said softly. "Then you understand." He looked around the fields. "This is our life now, Councilor. Our land and our families are what matter to us. Politics, war, even flying—that's all in the past." He brought his gaze back. "Do you believe us?"

"I'd like to," Leia said. "How far are you willing to go to prove it?" Carib braced himself. "As far as necessary."

Leia nodded and stepped up to him, sensing Han's flicker of uneasiness as she left his side, and locked eyes with the young clone. Calming her mind, she stretched out to his mind with the Force. He stood impassively, allowing the probe without flinching... and by the time she stepped back again, she had no more doubts. "He means it, Han," she confirmed. "They all do."

"So that's it, huh?" Han said. "We're just going to head off and leave them here?"

"We'll repair your ship first, of course," Carib said. "The MX droids that handle maintenance on our fighters can probably have it running in a day or two."

To Leia's surprise, Han shook his head. "Not good enough," he said firmly. "You're asking us to protect an Imperial sabotage group. That's a pretty big risk for us, you know." The group off to the side stirred. "What are you trying—?" someone began. Carib silenced him with a gesture, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You always were an operator, Solo," he said dryly. "What do you want?"

"You don't want to fight anymore," Han said. "That's fine; neither do we. But if we don't get this Caamas thing resolved fast, none of us are going to have any choice in the matter."

"Your point?" Carib asked.

"We need to find out which Bothans were involved in the hit on Caamas," Han said. "And there's only one place we know we can get those names from."

Carib's lips compressed briefly. "The Empire."

"Specifically, the central Imperial records library on Bastion," Leia said, seeing now where Han was going with this. "The problem is that we don't know where Bastion is."

"We don't either," Sabmin said. "Our orders come from the Ubiqtorate through a special channel. We've never been directly in touch with Bastion or the current Imperial leadership."

"Sure, but there must be some way you can get an emergency message to them," Han said.

"Imperial ops procedures can't have slipped that badly." Carib and Sabmin exchanged glances. "There is a place at the edge of Imperial space where we can go," Carib said doubtfully. "But it's not supposed to be used unless there's vital information that can't wait for proper channels."

"I think we can come up with something that qualifies," Han said. "If we can, will you take me out there?"

"Wait a minute," Leia cut in. "Don't you mean take us out there?"

"Sorry, hon," Han said, shaking his head. "But if there's one person everyone in the Empire knows by sight, it's you."

"Oh, really?" Leia countered. "You think you're any better?"

"I wasn't ever president of the New Republic," Han pointed out. "Besides, one of us has to go."

"Why?" Leia demanded, a dull ache around her heart. Han had done a lot of crazy things in his life; but walking into the heart of the Empire was beyond even his old smuggler's rashness. "The New Republic has other people they could send."

"Yeah, but which ones can we trust?" Han asked. "Besides, we don't have time to go back and hunt up a team. The whole New Republic's balanced on a blade edge right now."

"But you can't go alone," Leia insisted. "And don't forget I'm a Jedi. Any trouble you get into—"

"We've got company," one of the clones announced suddenly, pointing. Leia looked. Just clearing the distant hills, a low-flying craft was burning through the air toward them. "Carib, you'd better get the others into the cave," she told him, running through her Jedi sensory-enhancement techniques and squinting at the approaching vehicle. "Better yet, you'd better all go. That looks like our Noghri guards' Khra shuttle."

"Too late," Carib said, his eyes on the approaching vehicle as he gestured the others to stay where they were. "If there are Noghri in there, they already have us under surveillance. Trying to slip out of sight now will just make things worse."

The shuttle was almost to them, skimming low over the tallgrain and showing no sign of stopping. Han made an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat, and even Leia felt a twinge of uncertainty. It looked like a Khra shuttle, but at the speed it was making, that was impossible to confirm. If it was instead a follow-up attack...

And then, at almost the last second, the craft braked hard, coming to a midair halt. A short gray figure dropped out the passenger-side door, and the shuttle shot off again, swinging high over the cave and hills before circling back toward the group gathered around the Falcon.

"Councilor," Barkhimkh said gravely, recovering his balance quickly after his three-meter drop and marching toward them. He had no visible weapons, but with a Noghri that didn't mean a lot. "The Pakrik Defense monitor said that a ship had come under attack, and surmised it was yours. We are pleased to find you uninjured."

"Thank you, Barkhimkh," Leia said, keeping her voice as gravely unemotional as his. What he really wanted to do, she knew, was to express his deep shame and self-loathing that he and Sakhisakh hadn't been there to help protect them from the attack. But he would never reveal even a hint of such feelings in front of strangers. "We appreciate your concern," she added. "As you see, we were able to land safely among friends."

"Yes," the Noghri said, his eyes measuring the group with a single well-trained glance. "I presume you will now be"—his voice faltered just slightly—"returning with us?" An almost undetectable slip; but for Leia it was enough. "No, it's all right," she said quickly, taking a step toward Carib. "They're not going to hurt us."

"You do not understand," Barkhimkh snarled. There was contempt suddenly in his voice, and a blaster just as suddenly in his hand. "They are Imperial clones."

"They're clones, yes," Leia said. "But they're on our side now." Barkhimkh spat. "They are Imperials."

"So were the Noghri, once," Carib said quietly.

Barkhimkh's blaster twitched toward him, his large black eyes flashing. Any mention of their long servitude to the Empire by outsiders was considered a deadly insult. "No," Leia said firmly, reaching out with the Force to turn the blaster muzzle aside. "They saved our lives, and they've asked for sanctuary."

"You may trust them as you choose, Councilor," Barkhimkh said darkly. "But I do not." But nevertheless the blaster disappeared. "There was an urgent transmission from Coruscant for you shortly after you departed Pakrik Major," the Noghri said, waving a stand-down signal toward his partner in the circling shuttle. "Did you receive it?"

"No," Leia said, frowning. She hadn't realized the Noghri were able to tap into their private communications. "It probably came in while we were being jammed. Did you get a copy?"

"Sakhisakh will bring it," Barkhimkh said, nodding his head fractionally toward the shuttle now landing off to the side. "We of course did not attempt to decrypt it." Which didn't necessarily mean they couldn't do so if they'd wanted to. "Have him bring it into the Falcon, please," she instructed. "I'll go get the decrypt ready. You wait here with Han and help Carib and the others get repairs organized."

Ten minutes later, seated at the Falcon's game table as Sakhisakh stood watchful guard between her and the hatchway, she slid the datacard into her datapad.

The message was short, and very much to the point:

Leia, this is General Bel Iblis. I've just received some vital information and urgently need to talk to you. Please stay on Pakrik Minor; I'll be arriving there in three days and will meet you at the North Barris Spaceport. Please treat this communication with the utmost security. Leia frowned, the skin on the back of her neck tingling. What in the worlds could Bel Iblis have found that he would need to come all the way out here? And why her, of all people?

There was the clank of boots on metal, and she looked up to see Han stride in past Sakhisakh.

"Looks pretty straightforward, I guess," he reported, sliding into the seat beside her. "The head droid thinks they can have her back together in a couple of days. So what's this big important message?" Wordlessly, Leia handed over the datapad. Han read it, his forehead wrinkling as he did so. "This is interesting," he declared, setting down the datapad. "How did Bel Iblis know we were here?"

"Gavrisom must have told him," Leia said. "He's the only one who knew we were coming to Pakrik Minor after the conference was over."

"Yeah, well, those three Korliers knew it, too," Han said pointedly, swiveling the datapad around to look at the message again. "How sure are you that this is really from Bel Iblis?"

"About as sure as it's possible to be," Leia said. "It has his signature code, plus the bridgebreak confirmation."

"That's, what, that crypt-embedded code trick Ghent came up with a couple of months ago?"

"That's the one," Leia said. "I don't think the Imperials even know the codes are in there, let alone have a way to access or duplicate them."

"Unless Ghent was using the same trick back when he was still working for Karrde," Han mused, rubbing his chin. "Could be the Imperials picked up on it then."

"No, Bel Iblis asked him that when he first proposed the technique," Leia said. "Ghent said it was something he'd just developed."

"Mm." Han read the message again. "No idea what this is about?"

"None," Leia said. "I guess we'll find out in a couple of days."

"Well, you'll find out, anyway," Han said. "Carib and I will be long gone by then." Leia took a deep breath, the ache returning abruptly to her chest. "Han—"

"No argument, hon," Han said quietly, reaching over to take her hand. "I don't like it, either. But if we don't get this stopped, everything's going to go up in smoke. You know that better than I do."

"We don't know that," Leia argued. "We've got the New Republic government and Luke's Jedi students to help hold things together. If it comes to civil war, we can force the Bothans to pay whatever reparations are necessary, even if it winds up wrecking their economy."

"You really think the Diamala will let Gavrisom force them into that kind of self-destruction?" Han countered. "Not to mention the Mon Cals, the Sif'kries, and whoever else has lined up on the Bothans' side since yesterday? Come on, we didn't win the war with wishful thinking."

"Well, then, what about Karrde?" Leia asked, trying one last time.

"What about him?" Han asked. "Just because he's gone out looking for a copy of the Caamas Document doesn't mean he's going to find it. Matter of fact, he didn't seem too confident about it himself. If he had, he would have asked for half the payment up front." Leia glared at him. "I'm being serious."

"So am I," Han said, squeezing her hand. "You think I want to go walking into the middle of the Empire? Look, you can talk all you want about holding things together; but if the New Republic blows, you and Gavrisom and all the Jedi in Luke's school aren't going to be able to put it back together. And if that happens, what kind of life are Jacen and Jaina and Anakin going to have? Or Chewie's cubs, or Cracken's grandkids, or anyone else? I don't like it any better than you do, but it's got to be done."

Leia took a deep breath, stretching out to the Force. No, she didn't like it at all. But at the same time, paradoxically, it somehow felt right. Not pleasant, certainly not safe, but right. "You aren't going alone, are you?" she sighed. "I mean someone besides Carib?"

"Yeah, I've got someone in mind," Han said, his voice an odd mixture of relief and regret. Relief, she suspected, because his Jedi wife wasn't going to insist he not go; regret for exactly the same reason.

Leia managed a smile. "Lando?"

"How'd you guess?" Han said, managing an answering smile. "Yeah. Him and a couple others." He half turned to look at Sakhisakh. "Not you, in case you were going to ask."

"I would advise you reconsider," Sakhisakh said. "A Noghri guard disguised as your slaves could be unobtrusive even on an Imperial world." His eyes flicked to Leia. "We have already failed you twice, Lady Vader, first on Bothawui and now here. We could not endure the shame and disgrace of a third such failure."

"Disgrace isn't going to matter much if you get us picked up ten steps off the ramp," Han pointed out. "Sorry, but Lando and me can do this ourselves. You just keep an eye on Leia, all right?"

"Do not fear," Sakhisakh said, a dark menace in his voice. "We will." Under the table, Leia caught Han's hand. "So much for our little vacation," she said, forcing a smile that probably looked as unconvincing as it felt.

The look that flickered across Han's face made her wish she hadn't said that. "I'm sorry, Leia," he said in a low voice. "We never seem to get a break from all this, do we?"

"Not very often," she agreed with a sigh. "If I'd realized at the beginning how much all of this was going to cost... I don't know."

"I do," Han said. "You'd have died on Alderaan, Palpatine would still be running the Empire, and I'd still be shipping spice for slimetails like Jabba. All that by itself makes it worth it."

"You're right," Leia said, feeling slightly ashamed of her moment of self-pity. "When were you and Carib planning to leave?"

"Well, let's see," Han said consideringly, an unexpected glint of roguishness touching the somber tone of his emotions. "I've got to get a transmission across to Lando, and Carib's got to roll their freighter out and run a check on it. And he's a family man, too, so he's going to need time to say good-bye to his wife and kids. So let's say... tomorrow morning?"

Translation: he'd told Carib they weren't leaving till morning, with whatever excuses he'd needed to make it stick. "Thank you," she said quietly, squeezing his hand and trying the smile again. It felt much better this time.

"It's not what I was looking for," Han said. "But I guess it's better than nothing."

"Much better," she assured him. "But do you think all these crises can wait an extra night?"

"I don't know," Han said, sliding out of his seat and offering her his arm in one of those old Royal Alderaanian gestures he too rarely used. "But I guess they'll have to."

CHAPTER

9

Outside the curved transparisteel canopy came one last burst of bubbles from the blue-veined rock formation rising from the ocean floor. As if that had been a signal, the blazelights illuminating the area began to dim. The quiet buzz of conversation in the observation gallery stopped in anticipation. Standing against the back wall, Lando Calrissian smiled in some private anticipation of his own. When he and Tendra Risant had first proposed this undersea mining operation, her family had been less than enthusiastic; but they had been openly critical of his idea to add an observation gallery so that paying customers could watch. Ridiculous, they had said—no one pays good money to watch miners mining, even aquatic miners in the admittedly unusual locale of the Varn ocean floor. But Lando had insisted, and Tendra had backed him up, and the family's financiers had grudgingly forked over the extra money.

Which made it that much more of a pleasure to watch packed galleries like this one waiting eagerly for the show.

The blazelights finished their fade, leaving the rock formation just barely visible as a dark shape against the slightly lighter seawater around it. Someone in the gallery murmured to a friend... And suddenly there was a single point of blue-green fire at one edge of the rock. The point grew rapidly, becoming a line and then a pair of branches, and finally an arachnid-web of light as the blue veins of fraca ignited and burned.

And then the sheets of yellow bubbles appeared as the heat of the burning fraca set off the tertian beneath it, and for perhaps the next thirty seconds the entire formation was surrounded by a twisting fury of fire and light. Like a living creature writhing in the silent agony of its death throes—

And with a shower of multicolored sparks and one final flurry of bubbles, the formation collapsed into a pile of rocks.

Someone gasped; and as the sparks and bubbles faded and the blaze-lights began to come up again there was a ripple of spontaneous applause. The gallery's own lights came back, and with a buzz of excited conversation the audience began their exit back to the casino areas. Lando waited by the door as they filed out, smiling, accepting compliments, answering a scattering of questions covering the usual range of intelligent to banal, and as the last two Duros filed out he reset the doorway for general admission. The miners were scheduled to collapse one more ore formation today, but until that time the gallery would be open, free of charge, to anyone who wanted to come in and watch.

He was just starting down the corridor toward the Tralus Room when his comlink beeped. Pulling it out, he thumbed it on. "Calrissian."

"Transmission coming in on the surface link," the voice of Chief Command Officer Donnerwin announced. "It's encrypted and marked private."

"I'll take it in my office," Lando told him, keying off the comlink and changing direction. Tendra, perhaps, calling to say she'd wrapped up her Corellian trip and was heading back to join him. Or maybe it was Senator Miatamia or another Diamalan official with news about the security arrangements he was hoping to make with them for his ore shipments.

Either one would be welcome. Reaching his office, he sealed the door, dropped into his desk chair, and with twice the anticipation those gamblers back in the gallery had shown he keyed the comm.

It wasn't Tendra. It wasn't even Miatamia. "Hi, Lando," Han said, an all-too-familiar half smile on his face. "How're things going?"

"A lot better two minutes ago than they are now," Lando told him, the anticipation popping like a bubble and settling into the pit of his stomach like a bad feeling. "I know that look. What do you want?"

"I need you to go on a little trip with me," Han said. "Can you get away for a few days?" The feeling in Lando's stomach got a little colder. No who-mes, no

what-makes-you-think-I-want-somethings, no banter of any sort. Whatever was going on, Han was deadly serious about it. "That depends," he hedged. "How dangerous is this little trip likely to be?" Again, there should have been some banter. There wasn't. "Could be pretty risky," Han admitted.

"Could be worse than that."

Lando grimaced. "Han—look, you have to understand—"

"I need you, Lando," Han cut him off. "We're on a tight schedule, and I need someone I can trust. You've got the expertise I need, you know the people I need, and there's no one else I can get."

"Han, I've got responsibilities here," Lando said. "I've got a business to run—"

"Karrde had a business to run, too," Han interrupted again. "He's not going to like it if you say no."

Lando shook his head in resignation. No, Karrde certainly wouldn't be happy if he passed on this. Not after Lando had single-handedly talked him into heading out to Kathol sector to try to get an intact copy of the Caamas Document from the mysterious Jorj Car'das.

Whose ties to Karrde Lando still didn't understand. But that wasn't the point. The point was that Karrde hadn't wanted to confront Car'das, but he'd gone anyway. Now Han was calling the pot hand, and Lando was about twenty points shy of a twenty-three. "All right," he said. "But only because of Karrde. Where and when?"

"Right now," Han said. "You have the Lady Luck there?"

"On the surface, yes," Lando told him. "I can take the next shuttle up and be there half an hour later. Who are these other people you said we need?"

"Your old admin pal Lobot, for one," Han said. "And that Verpine he was working with for a while—what was his name?"

"Moegid," Lando said, feeling his eyes narrowing. "Han, this isn't what I think it is, is it?"

"It's probably worse," Han conceded. "Lobot and Moegid still running that little slicer trick you once told me about?"

"I don't know if they still are," Lando said with a sigh. "But I'm sure they still can. You haven't by any chance located—?"

He hesitated. Even with the transmission encrypted he didn't want to say the name aloud. Obviously, neither did Han. "You mean the place we talked about at the Orowood?" the other said obliquely. "I think so, yeah. Get Lobot and Moegid and meet me two systems Coreward from where you didn't have any choice."

Lando smiled tightly. They arrived right before you did, the words echoed accusingly through his memory as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. I had no choice. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, too, Han had replied as he and Leia, a squad of stormtroopers behind them, had walked forward into that private dining room on Cloud City to face Darth Vader. "Two systems Coreward it is," he confirmed.

"I'll be waiting," Han said.

The transmission ended. Lando leaned back in his seat, gazing unseeingly at the blank display. The place we talked about at the Orowood. They'd talked about several different places at that clandestine meeting. But only one of them could have gotten Han this riled up. Bastion. The latest site of the oft-moved Imperial capital, its location and name of its host planet hand-sealed secrets. Probably one of the best-defended worlds in the galaxy; certainly the central focus of Imperial power; most definitely a place where the names Han Solo and Lando Calrissian were rather less than admired.

And one of the last places in the galaxy where a complete set of Imperial records would be stored. Records that might have the names and clans of the Bothans who had helped destroy the world of Caamas half a century ago. Records that could end the increasingly violent argument about whether the entire Bothan species should pay the penalty for that handful of anonymous murderers. If they could find that crucial record. And get out with it alive.

He keyed the comm. "Donnerwin, send a transmission to Lobot at Dive Central," he ordered.

"Tell him to get himself and the Lady Luck prepped—we're going on a little trip." For a moment he debated ordering Lobot to contact Moegid, decided against it. The Lady Luck had better encryption than the under-to-over comm, and the less information out there for snoopers to listen to, the better.

"And get me a seat on the next surface shuttle."

"Acknowledged," Donnerwin said, unfazed as always by this sudden change in his boss's plans.

"The shuttle leaves in twenty minutes. Do you want me to hold it?"

"No, I can make it," Lando told him, running a quick mental list. Everything he was likely to need was already aboard the Lady Luck, and barring any major disasters the casino/mining operation should be able to run itself for a while. At least until Tendra got back. A pang of guilt jabbed into him. After all he and Tendra had been through together, she had a right to know why he was dropping everything like this. Especially if there was any chance at all that he wouldn't be coming back.

He swallowed, his mouth unexpectedly dry. He would come back, all right. Of course he would. Hadn't he flown right into the heart of the second Death Star and lived to tell about it? Sure he had. And he'd survived the destruction of Mount Tantiss, and that Corellian unpleasantness, and everything in between.

But he was older now, and wiser, with a business he really enjoyed and a woman who for possibly the first time in his life he felt truly and honestly connected to. He didn't want to lose any of it. Certainly not by dying.

But, hey, there was nothing to worry about. He was going with Han, and Han was about the luckiest old scoundrel he'd ever known. They'd come back okay. Sure they would. Guaranteed.

"Boss?"

Lando blinked, snapping out of his private pep talk and focusing on Donnerwin again. "What?"

"Will there be anything else?" the other asked.

"No," Lando said, feeling slightly ridiculous. "Just keep things running smoothly until Tendra gets back."

Donnerwin smiled. "Sure thing, boss. Have a good trip."

"Thanks."

Lando keyed off the comm, and with a grimace pushed back his chair and stood up. No, there was nothing foolish about a little healthy caution. It was far worse than that. It was age. Lando was starting to feel old; and he didn't like it. Not a bit. So fine. He would go ahead and take this little jaunt into the heart of the Empire. It would do him good, and might just save the New Republic on top of it.

Sure. It would be just like old times.

* * *

In her earphone came the sound of Calrissian's door opening and closing; and with a sigh, Karoly D'ulin pulled the device out of her ear. "Shassa," she murmured into the empty air. The word seemed to hang in front of her, there in the tiny utility closet. An old Mistryl battle curse, but spoken now not with anger or combat rage but a deep sadness.

Her gamble had paid off... and now she was going to have to kill an old friend. With practiced fingers she began disassembling the audio tap she'd put into Calrissian's office when she'd arrived here forty hours ago, a flush of anger intruding on her dour mood. Anger at Talon Karrde for being so predictable; anger at herself for anticipating his moves so precisely; anger at Shada D'ukal for putting her in this position in the first place.

What in the ashes of Emberlene had possessed Shada to defy the Eleven that way? she wondered. Loyalty, Shada had said up on that windswept rooftop. But that was clearly ridiculous. Mazzic was a grubby little smuggler—nothing more—with no more claim on Shada's loyalty than any of the dozens of other employers she'd worked for over the years. True, this particular job had lasted longer than most; but no matter what Mazzic might have thought, Shada had still been a Mistryl shadow guard all that time, ultimately answerable only to the Eleven Elders of the People. So Shada had defied her orders, and as a result a Mistryl deal with a Hutt crimelord had gone sour, and the Eleven were demanding Shada's head. All Mistryl had been alerted to watch for her, and several teams had been sent specifically to hunt her down.

And out of all that flurry of activity it had been Karoly who had found her. Even now, eight days later, the irony of it was still a bitter taste in Karoly's mouth. She hadn't worked with Shada for twenty years, yet had still managed to anticipate that Shada's next move would be in the direction of the New Republic hierarchy, though whether to join up or sell out Karoly still didn't know. She'd arrived on Coruscant just in time to see Shada leaving the Imperial City, and had tracked her to an apartment owned by High Councilor Leia Organa Solo and her husband near the Manarai Mountains.

She might have taken Shada there—certainly surprise would have been on her side. But the Solos were rumored to have a cadre of Noghri warriors around them at all times, and even given that Noghri combat skills were probably overrated, it would still be risky for a single Mistryl to go up against them alone.

So she had called for backup. But before they could arrive Shada had left the building in the company of Talon Karrde. There again might have been her chance; but before she could do more than infiltrate into the inner landing bay Organa Solo and her protocol droid had arrived with a pair of Noghri in tow. She and the droid had gone inside, the Noghri taking up positions at the outer hatchway; and when Organa Solo had left a few minutes later it was without the droid. She'd collected her guards and left the landing bay.

And then, to Karoly's chagrin, the Wild Karrde had immediately sealed up and taken off, leaving her too far from her own ship to have any hope of giving chase.

The Eleven had been furious. So had the Mistryl hunter team who had dropped everything to rush to Coruscant at her call. Nothing had been said; but then, nothing had to be. Their expressions had been enough, and the sideways glances and muttered comments to each other as they'd headed back to their ships. They'd heard the story about Karoly letting Shada escape back at the Resinem Entertainment Complex, and it wasn't hard to guess that many of them were thinking she'd done the same thing here.

Which had made it that much more important that she prove them wrong. And so she'd played a long-shot hunch, keying back on a vague connection between Karrde and Calrissian that Mazzic had gotten whiff of a few years back.

A hunch that had now paid off. Solo had been careful in that transmission, but that single oblique reference to Karrde had been all she'd needed. Shada was off with Karrde, and Calrissian was being asked to join in.

And wherever he went, Karoly would be there, too. Calrissian had once been a smuggler, and every smuggler—former or otherwise—had a hidey-hole or two hidden aboard his personal ship. If Karoly could reach the Lady Luck even a couple of minutes ahead of Calrissian, odds were she could be snugged away out of sight by the time he started up the entry ramp. And if it turned out he was planning to use her hidey-hole for something else... well, she would mark that target when she came to it.

In the meantime, there was her carrypack to throw together and a place on the next surface shuttle to reserve. Preferably with a seat closer to the exit than Calrissian's. Waiting until the corridor outside was silent, she slipped out of the utility closet and headed at a fast walk back toward her room.

* * *

"Admiral?" Captain Dorja's voice came from the comm speaker in the secondary command room's inner circle of repeater displays. "The Ruurian ambassador's shuttle has just cleared the ship and is heading back to the surface."

Handing his drink to Tierce, Flim flashed Disra a smug smile and stepped over to the repeater displays. "Thank you, Captain," he said in that calmly measured Thrawn voice he did so well.

"Prepare a course for Bastion, and inform me when the ship is ready."

"Yes, sir."

The comm unit clicked off. "About time," Disra growled, throwing a glare at Tierce. "If you ask me, we've pushed our luck too hard here already."

"We're familiar with your opinions on the topic, thank you," Tierce said, not quite insubordinately, as he handed Flim's drink back to him. "I'd remind you that three brand-new treaties is a very good return for a week's work."

"Only if Coruscant doesn't come down on us like a wounded rancor," Disra countered sourly.

"You push them hard enough and long enough and they will."

"This hardly qualifies as pushing, Your Excellency," Flim said. His voice, too, was a little too close to insubordination for Disra's taste. "We haven't opened or provoked any hostilities, and we've gone only where we've been invited. On what possible grounds could Coruscant attack us?"

"How about the grounds that a state of war still exists between us?" Disra snapped. "Either of you ever think of that?"

"Political suicide," Flim sniffed. "We've been invited by these systems, remember? If Coruscant tries to stick its collective nose in—"

He broke off as a shrill whistle sounded from the repeater displays. "What's that?" he demanded.

"Emergency battle alert," Tierce said tightly, nearly splashing the rest of Flim's drink onto his pristine white uniform as he shouldered past the con man and dropped into the command chair.

"Admiral, get over here," he added, his hands darting over the controls. The tactical display came up, turning the room into a giant holographic combat display; and as it did so, the comm unit twittered. "Admiral, I believe we're about to come under attack," Dorja's voice said calmly. "Eight Marauder-class Corvettes have just jumped into the system, heading our direction."

Disra consciously unclenched his teeth as he looked around the room for the flashing symbols that would mark the incoming Marauders. Of course Dorja was calm—he thought he had the great Grand Admiral Thrawn aboard his ship, with matters undoubtedly under control.

But he didn't, and they weren't. And unless Disra did something fast, this whole tenuous soap bubble was going to blow up right in their faces.

Flim was at Tierce's side now, and the major was reaching for the comm switch. "Tell Dorja he's to take over," Disra hissed toward them. "Tell him this is too small or too trivial for you to bother with—"

"Shh!" Tierce hissed, cutting him off with a glare and a chopping motion of his hand. "Admiral?"

"Ready," Flim said, and Tierce tapped the key. "Thank you, Captain," the con man said smoothly; and once again, it was suddenly Grand Admiral Thrawn standing in the room. "Have you identified them?"

"No, sir, not yet," Dorja said. "They have random-noise generators blanketing their engine IDs. Highly illegal, of course."

"Of course," Thrawn agreed. "Launch a half squadron of Preybirds to intercept."

"Yes, sir."

Tierce flipped off the comm unit. "Are you crazy?" Disra snarled. "A half squadron of starfighters against—?"

"Calm down, Your Excellency," Flim said, throwing Disra a coolly calculating look. "This was one of Thrawn's standard techniques to sniff out an unknown opponent's identity."

"More to the immediate point, it buys us time," Tierce added, his fingers skating madly across the computer console. "Marauder Corvettes, Marauder Corvettes... here we go. Mostly used by the Corporate Sector these days, with a few in assorted Outer Rim system defense fleets."

"Interesting," Flim commented, leaning forward to read over his shoulder. "What would the Corporate Sector want with us?"

"I don't know," Tierce said. "Disra? Any ideas on that one?"

"No," Disra said, pulling out his datapad. No, he didn't know why anyone in the Corporate Sector might want to attack them this way... but on the other hand, the mention of Marauders had triggered a vague memory at the back of his mind.

"Do you have a list of the other systems who use them?" Flim asked.

"Running it now," Tierce said. "Nothing really jumping out at me... there go the Preybirds." Disra glanced up to see the marks indicating the starfighters speeding outward toward the distant intruders, then lowered his eyes to his datapad again. It had had something to do with Captain Zothip and the Cavrilhu Pirates, he remembered. There, that was the section...

"I need some suggestions here," Flim said urgently.

"Thrawn's standard pattern would be to let the Preybirds begin to engage, then pull them back," Tierce said. "How the enemy responded to the probe was usually enough to let him figure out who they were."

"That's fine for Thrawn," Flim bit out apprehensively. "Unfortunately, we're a little short of his brand of genius at the moment."

"Unless Major Tierce took classes in the technique with the Royal Guard," Disra added, snapping the datapad closed with a grand sense of triumph.

"Helpful as always, Your Excellency," Tierce said absently, still sifting through the computer records.

"Glad you appreciate me," Disra said. "They're Diamala." He had the satisfaction of watching both of them turn to look at him, a look of stunned surprise on Flim's face, the same surprise tinged with suspicion on Tierce's. "What?" Flim asked.

"They're Diamala," Disra repeated, enjoying the moment to the fullest. "About three months ago the Diamalan Commerce Ministry bought twelve Marauder Corvettes to use in transport escort. And possibly for some rather shadier operations."

"You sure?" Flim asked, peering at the display. "It doesn't show here."

"I'm sure it doesn't," Disra said. "Captain Zothip was trying to buy them and was outbidden. As I said, they may be reserving them for shady operations."

"And how do you get from there to the assumption these are those ships?" Flim demanded.

"No, he's right," Tierce put in before Disra could answer. "That Diamalan Senator we dragged aboard the Relentless with Calrissian—remember? I never did think he was wholly convinced you were Thrawn."

"And if our Intelligence reports are right, he was the one who helped drive the governmental split on Coruscant over the whole issue," Disra reminded them.

"Yes, he was," Tierce said, turning back to the computer keyboard. "It appears he's decided to give us another test."

"The question being what we do about it," Flim said, looking across the room. "And the Preybirds are almost there."

"I know," Tierce said, gazing at the computer display. "Call them back."

"Already?" Disra frowned at the tactical. "I thought you needed them to—"

"I don't need anything," Tierce cut him off. "Call them back, and have Dorja set up for a Tron Boral maneuver."

"A what?" Disra asked, frowning harder.

"A somewhat esoteric battle technique," Flim explained, leaning over Tierce's shoulder and tapping the comm unit back on. "That will do nicely, Captain," he said smoothly. "Recall the Preybirds, and prepare the Relentless for a Tron Boral maneuver."

"Acknowledged, Admiral," Dorja said briskly. "Will you be joining me on the bridge?" Tierce looked up at Flim and tapped a spot on the computer display. "You won't need my assistance," Thrawn assured the captain, nodding acknowledgment to Tierce and leaning closer to read the indicated section. "A Tron Boral maneuver, followed by a full-closure Marg Sabl sweep by the Preybirds, and I think our unknown assailants will reconsider their plans. Assuming they're still alive to do so, of course."

"Yes, sir," the captain said, and Disra could almost see the other rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Tron Boral maneuver ready."

"Execute, Captain."

Flim keyed off the comm unit again. "And that should be that," he said, leaning casually on the back of the command chair and gazing with interest at the tactical display.

"You see, we already have a battle plan to use against Diamala," Tierce explained, looking over at Disra. "Thrawn tangled with them a few times during his sweep through the Rebellion ten years ago." He gestured toward the computer. "All I had to do was pull up the record of one of those battles—"

"There they go," Flim interrupted him. "Running like hopskips." Disra followed his pointing finger. Flim was right; the Marauders were indeed turning tail and heading for hyperspace. "But we haven't done anything yet," he protested, feeling slightly bewildered.

"Sure we have," Tierce said, his voice grimly satisfied. "Don't forget, they've got records of Thrawn's victories, too. The Relentless moved into a Tron Boral maneuver... and that was all they needed to know."

"Yes," Flim murmured as, across the room, the Marauders' marks winked out as they jumped to hyperspace. "With ships that weren't even registered to them, we responded with exactly the right move."

He tapped the comm again. "Secure from battle configuration, Captain," he instructed Dorja.

"And inform the Ruurian governments that the threatened attack on their world has been frightened away."

"At once, Admiral," Dorja's voice came. "I'm sure they'll be pleased. Shall we continue course preparation for Bastion?"

"Yes," the con man said. "You may leave the system when ready. I shall be meditating if you require me."

"Yes, sir. Have a good rest, Admiral."

Flim keyed off. "And that," he added to Disra and Tierce, "is indeed that. If the Diamala weren't convinced before, five gets the sabacc pot they are now."

"Good for them," Disra said sourly. "You realize, of course, that all this little exercise accomplished was to bring us one step closer to scaring Coruscant into coming down on us."

"Patience, Your Excellency," Tierce said, keying off the tactical and getting up from the command chair. "I'm sure it also helped convince the Ruurians they've chosen the winning side."

"Yes," Disra said. "And perhaps brought us one step closer to the Hand of Thrawn." Flim frowned. "The Hand of Thrawn?" he asked cautiously. "What's a Hand of Thrawn?" Tierce pursed his lips, clearly annoyed. "Your Excellency..."

"What's a Hand of Thrawn?" Flim repeated.

"No, no, go ahead," Disra said to Tierce, waving a languid hand and preparing to enjoy this moment, too, to its fullest. Tierce and Flim got along together far too well for his liking. It was about time they both got a taste of some of the misgivings and suspicions about this arrangement that Disra himself had been feeling since it started. "It's your story. You tell him."

"I'm listening," Flim said, his voice suddenly dark. "What is this you haven't bothered to tell me?" Tierce cleared his throat. "Calm down, Admiral," he said. "It's like this..." It was, Disra reflected later, a good thing that the secondary command room was totally soundproofed. As it was, with all the shouting, he completely missed the characteristic deck vibration that marked the Star Destroyer's return to hyperspace.

CHAPTER

10

The first hundred meters were reasonably easy, even with Artoo's usual problems with uneven terrain. Mara had explored some of this section of the cave, and had studied most of the rest with glow rod and macrobinoculars, and she was able to pick out the best route. But at that point the floor dropped off abruptly for perhaps ten meters; and when they reached the chamber at the bottom of the passageway, they were in new territory.

"How's it look?" Luke called to Mara as he used the Force to ease Artoo over one last boulder at the foot of their descent path.

"About like you'd expect," Mara called back. She had her glow rod out in front of her, her body silhouetted as the light was scattered into a hazy nimbus by the dust in the air. "You know, just once it would be nice to go on one of these little jaunts where we didn't wind up having to drag that astromech droid through rocks and bushes and sand and all."

Artoo beeped indignantly. "Artoo's usually done a good job of earning his keep," Luke reminded her, brushing the grit off his hands as he stepped to her side. "Anyway, when did we have to pull him through sand?"

"I'm sure we'll hit some sooner or later." Mara gestured ahead. "What do you think?" Luke peered out through the haze. The chamber was short, no more than fifteen meters from where they stood to the far end, but it was indeed a mess. A maze of rocks and boulders littered the area, with the jagged blades of stalactites and stalagmites jutting randomly from ceiling and floor blocking their way. At the far end, the chamber closed down again to a narrow crack that looked barely wide enough to squeeze through. "Doesn't look too bad," he told her. "We can handle the stalactites with our lightsabers. The big question's whether that crack's too narrow to get Artoo through."

There was a rustling in the air and Keeper Of Promises fluttered to an upside-down perch on one of the stalactites. Are you troubled, Master Walker Of Sky? the thought formed in Luke's mind. Is the path ahead too difficult for you?

No path is too difficult for Jedi Sky Walker, Child Of Winds jumped indignantly to Luke's defense, flapping his way to a rock beside Mara. I have seen him do great deeds in the outside air. Perhaps they were great in the easily dazzled eyes of a Qom Qae, Splitter Of Stones put in dryly from another stalactite a few meters into the chamber. Those who have earned their names are more difficult to impress.

"They're talking again, aren't they?" Mara muttered.

"The Qom Jha are wondering if this chamber is going to be a problem for us," Luke told her.

"Child Of Winds is defending us."

"Decent of him," Mara said, unhooking her lightsaber and hefting it in her hand. "Shall we give them a little demonstration?"

Luke frowned at her. "Are you sure you can—I mean—"

"You mean can I do it?" Mara cut him off. "Yes, I can do it. Just because I haven't graduated from your precious Jedi academy doesn't mean I can't use the Force as well as anyone else. You want high or low?"

"I'll take high," Luke said, a little taken aback by the heat of her retort. He got his own lightsaber in hand and gave a quick look around the chamber, fixing the position of each stalactite firmly in his mind. "You ready?"

In answer Mara ignited her lightsaber, the light from its blade adding a blue tinge to the neutral white of her glow rod. "Anytime you are."

"Right," Luke said, trying to hide his misgivings as he added the green of his lightsaber to the mix.

"Go."

In unison they cocked their arms and threw, sending their lightsabers windmilling across the chamber, their blades snicking neatly and efficiently through the protruding rock spikes. Or at least Luke's did. Mara's...

She tried. She really did. Luke could sense it in her stance, in her outstretched hand, in the mental strain he could feel like a static discharge all around her.

But as Master Yoda had once said, Do, or do not. There is no try. And in this case, as it had been then, there was indeed no try. Halfway across the chamber, Mara's lightsaber seemed to falter, its rhythm breaking and the blade tip dipping to carve shallow furrows in the rock floor. It would recover and fly true for another second or two, only to slow or dip again as she again nearly lost her Force grip on it.

Twice Luke was tempted to reach out and help her; on such an easy task he could handle both lightsabers without any problem. But both times he resisted the temptation. Mara Jade angry and frustrated was bad enough; Mara Jade angry, frustrated, and feeling like she was being patronized was not a combination he felt ready to face.

Besides, the job was getting done, if a bit erratically. And as far as the secondary purpose of the demonstration was concerned, the subtleties of the performance were completely lost on the audience. The cacophony of squawks and chirps from the Qom Jha filled Luke's ears and mind as the stalactites dropped from the ceiling around them to shatter on the rocks below. But neither the crash of rock nor the startled exclamations from the Qom Jha were able to drown out Child Of Winds's delighted squeals. I was right— you see, I was right, he crowed. He is a great Jedi warrior, as is Mara Jade beside him.

Luke felt a twinge as he called his lightsaber back to him, timing it to arrive at the same time as Mara's slightly more sluggish weapon. "War doesn't make one great, Child Of Winds," he admonished the young Qom Qae gently as he closed down his lightsaber and returned it to his belt.

"Battle is always to be the last resort of a Jedi."

I understand, Child Of Winds said, the tone of his thought making it clear that he did not in fact understand at all. But when you destroy the Threateners—

"We're not destroying anything," Luke insisted. "At least, not until we've tried talking to them first."

"I'd give it up if I were you," Mara called over her shoulder as she picked her way across the chamber toward the narrow opening. "He'll understand after he's seen a couple of his friends die in battle. Not before."

Luke felt his throat tighten. Obi-Wan, Biggs, Dack—the list went on and on. "In that case, I hope he never understands," he murmured.

"Oh, he will," Mara assured him darkly, her voice echoing strangely as she leaned her head into the gap and waved her glow rod around. "Sooner or later, everyone does." She leaned back out and unhooked her lightsaber. "You can come on ahead—there's only a short neck of extra rock here. Just take me a minute to cut it away."

* * *

Six hours later, Luke finally called a halt.

"About time," Mara said, wincing as she eased herself down into the most comfortable position possible on the cold rock. "I was starting to think you were hoping to make it all the way to the High Tower by tonight."

"I wish we could," Luke said, brushing some stones out of a saddle of rock across from her and sitting down. He didn't look nearly as tired or sore as she felt, she noticed with some resentment. She could only hope he was merely hiding it better than she was. "I have a feeling that we're running on a tight deadline with this."

"You're always running tight deadlines," Mara said, closing her eyes. "Has it ever occurred to you that every once in a while you could let someone else do all the work?" She felt the texture of his emotions change, and wondered whether his expression would be hurt, angry, or indignant when she opened her eyes.

To her mild surprise, it was none of them. It was, rather, merely a look of calm interest. "You think I try to do too much?"

"Yes," she said, eyeing him closely. "Why? You disagree?" He shrugged. "A year or two ago I would have," he said. "Now... I don't know."

"Ah," Mara said. First his statement back at the Cavrilhu Pirates' asteroid base that he was trying to cut back on his use of the Force, and now at least a tentative admission that he might be trying to do too much. This was progress indeed. "Of course, if you don't do everything, who will?" From his perch on a rock, Child Of Winds said something, and Luke smiled. "No, Child Of Winds," he said. "Not even a Jedi Master can do everything. In fact"—he threw an odd look at Mara—"sometimes it seems that it's not the job of a Jedi Master to do anything." Builder With Vines made a comment of his own. "Yes," Luke said.

"What did he say?" Mara asked.

"He quoted me what appears to be a Qom Jha proverb," Luke said. "About how many vines woven together are stronger than the same number of vines used separately. I think there must be a variation of that one on practically every planet in the New Republic." Mara threw a sour look at the Qom Jha. "You know, I used to be able to hear Palpatine's thoughts from anywhere in the Empire. I mean anywhere—Core Worlds, Mid-Rim, even a jaunt I took once to the edge of the Outer Rim."

"And yet you can't hear the Qom Jha or Qom Qae from across the room," Luke said. "Must be annoying."

" 'Annoying' isn't exactly the word I was hunting for," Mara said acidly. "How come you can hear them and I can't? If it's not some professional Jedi secret."

His emotions remained unruffled. "Actually, that's exactly what it is," he said. "Not a secret, really, but the fact that you're not a Jedi."

"What, because I haven't been through your academy?" Mara scoffed.

"Not at all," Luke said. "There are ways to become a Jedi without going through an academy." He hesitated, just noticeably. "But as long as we're on the subject, why didn't you come back?" She studied his face, wondering if this was a subject she really wanted to get into right now. "I had better things to do," she said instead.

"I see," Luke said; and this time she did sense a twitch in his emotions. "Such as flying all over the New Republic with Lando, for instance?"

"Well, well," Mara said, arching her eyebrows slightly. "Do I detect a note of jealousy?" Once again, he surprised her. The flicker of emotion, rather than flaming to life like an ember in a breeze, faded instead into a sort of gentle sadness. "Not jealousy," he said quietly. "Disappointment. I'd always hoped you would come back and complete your training."

"You didn't hope hard enough," Mara said, forcing down a flicker of old bitterness of her own. "I thought that after all we'd been through together on Myrkr and Wayland I deserved at least a little special consideration from you. But every time I showed up, you said hello and then basically ignored me. Kyp Durron or one of those other kids—they're the ones who got all your attention." Luke winced. "You're right," he conceded. "I thought... I suppose I was thinking that you didn't need as much attention as they did. Kyp was younger, more inexperienced..." He trailed off.

"And see what it got you," Mara couldn't resist pointing out. "He nearly wrecked the whole academy, not to mention you and the New Republic and everything else that got in his way."

"It wasn't all his fault," Luke said. "The Sith Lord Exar Kun was driving him toward the dark side."

"Do tell," Mara said, aware that she was drifting straight back into territory she had already decided to avoid for the moment. "And whose idea was it to set up the academy at Yavin in the first place? And who decided to leave it there after that mess with Exar Kun was finally sorted out?"

"I did," Luke said, his eyes steady on her face. "What are you getting at?" Mara grimaced. This was not the time or the place to get into this. "All I'm saying is that you're not infallible," she said, once again deflecting the matter. "That by itself ought to be enough reason for you not to try to do it all yourself."

"Hey, I'm not arguing," Luke protested with a faint smile. "I'm a reformed person—really. I let you handle your own lightsaber back at that chamber, didn't I?"

"Thanks for reminding me," Mara said, feeling her cheeks warming with embarrassment. "I really thought I had better control than that."

"It's the long, sustained control that's often the hardest to master," Luke said. "But I've found some special techniques for that. Here, lift up your lightsaber and I'll show you." Shifting her hip to free the lightsaber—and to incidentally move her leg off a rock that was starting to become uncomfortably sharp—Mara lifted the weapon out in front of her. "You want it on?" she asked, getting a Force grip on it and dropping her hand away.

"No, that's not necessary," Luke said. "All right, now, hold the lightsaber steady in front of you. I want you to keep an eye on it but to also visualize it in your mind, just the way it's hovering there. Can you do that?"

Mara half closed her eyes, her mind flashing back to their trek through the Wayland forest ten years ago. There, too, Luke had slipped easily into the role of teacher, with her taking the role of student.

But a lot had changed since then. And this time, perhaps, she would be the one who would be presenting the most important lesson. "Okay, I've got it," she told him. "What next?"

* * *

Mara was a quick study, as Luke had noted in the past, and easily picked up the rudiments of the focusing technique. He kept her practicing with it for another half hour, and then it was time to move on.

"I hope your droid's not going to run out of power before we get there," Mara commented as Luke used the Force to lift Artoo over yet another section of claw-slash ground. "I'd hate to think we'd dragged him all this way just so he could become a floor decoration."

"He'll be all right," Luke said. "He's not using much power right now, and your droid fitted him with some extra power packs on the way in."

"Wait a second," Mara said, frowning. "My droid, Slips? I thought you said you came by X-wing."

"We came down to the planet by X-wing, yes," Luke said. "But we came into the system in the Jade's Fire. I guess I forgot to mention that."

"I guess you did," Mara said shortly, a flush of anger making Luke wince as it flowed through her emotions. "Who in blazes gave you permission—? Never mind. It was Karrde, wasn't it?"

"He pointed out that your Defender doesn't have a hyperdrive," Luke said, hearing the defensiveness in his voice. "Two people in an X-wing cockpit gets pretty cozy."

"No, you're right," Mara said reluctantly, and he could sense her forcing back her reflexive protectiveness toward the one thing in the universe she truly owned. "You'd just better have it well hidden out there. And I mean really well hidden."

"It is," Luke assured her. "I know how much that ship means to you."

"You'd better not have scratched the paint, either," she warned. "I don't suppose you thought to bring the beckon call?"

"Actually, I did," Luke said, frowning slightly as he dug into one of the pockets of his jumpsuit. For some unknown reason an old memory flashed back: the time he'd gone back to Dagobah and stumbled across an old beckon call from some pre-Clone Wars ship. He hadn't known what it was, but Artoo had remembered seeing Lando once with a similar device, and so they'd headed to Lando's mining operation on Nkllon to ask him about it. Arriving just in time, as it happened, to help Han and Leia fight off a raid by Grand Admiral Thrawn.

But why should that particular memory come rising back now? Because Mara was here, and he'd seen his first vision of her at that same time? Or was it something about that ancient beckon call—or the Fire's beckon call, or beckon calls in general—that was triggering something deep in his mind?

Mara was looking oddly at him. "Trouble?" she asked.

"Stray thoughts," Luke said, pulling out the beckon call and handing it to her. "You're not going to be able to call the Fire from here, though. We're way out of range, and I seem to remember the beckon call being strictly line-of-sight."

"No, there's also a broadcast setting," Mara said. "But the range is pretty limited. Still, there may be transmitters in the High Tower I can run the call signal through." She sent him one last glower on the subject. "Though you can bet I won't bring it out of hiding until and unless we can neutralize their nest of fighters. Speaking of which, you never told me what happened with the pair you ran into."

"There's not much to tell," Luke said, unhooking his lightsaber and igniting it. A quick swipe, and yet another stalactite blocking their path went crashing to the ground in front of him. "They told me to stay with them, then ran through a series of quick maneuvers. I thought at the time they might be looking for an excuse to open fire."

"More likely wanted to see what kind of craft and pilot they were dealing with," Mara suggested.

"That was the conclusion I ended up with, too," Luke agreed, stretching out with the Force to lift Artoo over the shattered stalactite. "Anyway, they waited until we were a few kilometers from the High Tower and then opened fire. I ducked into that series of canyons your record showed and managed to lose them."

Mara was silent a moment. "You said they told you to stay with them. They spoke Basic?"

"Eventually," Luke said. "But they started off with the same message you and Karrde picked up when that other ship buzzed by Booster Terrik's Star Destroyer."

"Karrde gave you that, I take it," Mara said, her emotions turning suddenly darker. "Did he give you the rest of it?"

"He gave me your landing data," Luke said. "Was there more?"

"Yes, and none of it good," Mara said. "Point one is that Thrawn's name is buried in that message. Point two is that your sister recovered a damaged datacard near Mount Tantiss that was labeled 'The Hand of Thrawn.' "

The Hand of Thrawn. "I don't like the sound of that," Luke said.

"No one else who's heard it does, either," Mara agreed grimly. "The question is, what does it mean?"

"You were called the Emperor's Hand," Luke reminded her. "Could Thrawn have had that kind of agent?"

"That's the first thing everyone else has asked, too," Mara said, and Luke sensed a brief flicker of annoyance from her. "That, or whether it could be a superweapon like another Death Star. But neither of those were really his style."

Luke snorted. "No, his style was to rancor-roll some brilliant strategy over everyone."

"Succinctly put," Mara said. "Still, the datacard came out of the Emperor's private storehouse, so it must mean something. Palpatine wouldn't have created disinformation just for his own private amusement."

"Well, whatever it means, it would seem our friends in the High Tower are somehow connected to Thrawn," Luke said. "I wonder if they could be a group of his people."

"Oh, there's a cheery thought," Mara growled. "Let's just hope the whole species doesn't have the same tactical genius he did."

"Yes," Luke murmured.

But even as he ignited his lightsaber to clear more of the rock from their path another sobering thought occurred to him. If the Hand of Thrawn hadn't been an assassin or special agent...

"You're thinking again," Mara cut into his musings. "Come on, let's have it."

"I was just thinking that maybe the Hand of Thrawn might have been a student," Luke said, turning to look at her. "Someone he might have been grooming to take his place if anything happened to him."

"So where is he?" Mara asked. "I mean, it's been ten years. Why hasn't he shown up before now?"

"Maybe the Hand didn't think he was ready yet," Luke suggested. "Maybe he thought he needed more time or training before he could take Thrawn's place."

"Or else," Mara said, and in the harshly shadowed light of the glow rods her face was suddenly tight, "he's been waiting for just the right moment to make his move." Luke took a deep breath, the cool cavern air tasting suddenly a little colder. "Like the moment when the New Republic is poised to tear itself apart over the Caamas issue."

"It's exactly how Thrawn would take advantage of the situation," Mara said. "In fact, with Imperial resources whittled down to practically nothing, it's about the only thing he could do." For a long moment they just looked at each other, neither speaking. "I think," Mara said at last,

"we'd better get into that tower and see just what's going on up there."

"I think you're right," Luke said, turning his glow rod in the direction of their travel and boosting its power another notch. About five meters ahead, the passageway they were in seemed to open up into a large chamber, large enough at any rate to swallow up the glow rod's beam. He took a step forward—

And paused as a subtle sensation tickled at the back of his mind. Somewhere up ahead...

"I've got it, too," Mara muttered from behind him. "Doesn't feel like my usual danger warnings, though."

"Maybe it's not all that dangerous," Luke said. "At least, not to us." Artoo warbled, a sound that managed to be suspicious and forlorn at the same time. "He wasn't talking about you," Mara assured the droid. "You see it, Luke?"

"Yes," Luke said, smiling tightly. Up ahead, their three Qom Jha guides, who up until now had ranged freely back and forth ahead of their slower ground-walking charges, had all taken up rock perches just this side of the cavern mouth. "I'd say there's something in there they're not anxious to run into."

"Which they seem to have forgotten to tell us about," Mara pointed out. "Another test?"

"Could be," Luke said. "No—Child Of Winds, stay back here." I see no danger, the young Qom Qae protested. But he nevertheless obediently swooped to a landing on a stalagmite near the opening. What is the danger?

"We're about to find out," Luke told him, getting a grip on his lightsaber and easing toward the cavern. "Mara?"

"Right behind you," she said. "Want me to handle the lights?"

"Please," Luke said, handing his glow rod over his shoulder to her. Stretching out with all his senses, he stepped into the opening.

For a long minute he stood there motionlessly, studying the terrain as Mara swept the beams from the glow rods slowly around. The chamber was impressively large and high-ceilinged, with a handful of shallow channels conducting rippling streams of water across the otherwise more or less flat floor. There were none of the stalagmites and stalactites they'd had to put up with through the rest of the cave system, but the lower wall areas were pockmarked with dozens of half-meter-diameter holes that seemed to extend deeply back into the rock. The whole chamber—walls, ceiling, floor, even the creek beds—was covered with what looked to be a thick coating of a white mosslike substance. At the far side, the chamber again shrank down to a tunnel like the one they were standing in.

"There must be openings to the surface," Mara said quietly, her breath a momentary warmth on the back of his neck. "No light, but you can feel the air moving. And there's water, too."

"Yes," Luke murmured. Air, water, and a plant base—even a moss one—meant there could be a complete ecology down here.

An ecology that might well include predators...

"You want to offer it a ration bar?" Mara suggested.

"Let's try a rock first," Luke said, stooping down to pick up a fist-sized stone. He threw it out toward the center of the chamber; and as it arced toward the floor, he caught it in a Force grip and twisted it sharply to the side—

And abruptly something snapped out from one of the walls and back again. And in that movement, the stone vanished.

"Whoa!" Luke said, looking over at that part of the wall as Mara swung the glow rods that direction. "Did you see where that came from?"

"Somewhere over there, I think," Mara said. "It went by too fast—there. See it?" Luke nodded. From one of the deep holes in the wall, a brief cascade of gravel dribbled silently out down the white moss. There was some movement from the moss as the gravel passed, then it settled down again and the chamber was again silent and still.

"I guess it doesn't like rocks," Mara commented.

"We should have gone with the ration bar," Luke agreed, reaching out to the Force and replaying his short-term memory. It didn't help; the grab had been just too fast. "Could you see what it was?"

"Some kind of tongue or tentacle, I'd guess," Mara said. "The main part of the creature is probably inside that hole."

"And he's probably not alone," Luke said, eyeing the other holes around the chamber. "Any suggestions?"

"Well, for starters, we're going to need a closer look at one of them," Mara said. "You picking up any sentience in there?"

Luke stretched out into the chamber with the Force. "No," he told her. "Nothing."

"So they're simple predator animals, then," she said, squeezing into the opening beside him and handing him the glow rods. "That helps. Get out of the way, will you?"

"What are you going to do?" Luke asked, frowning, as she pulled out her lightsaber and ignited it.

"Like I said: get a closer look," she said. Holding the lightsaber out in front of her, she caught it with a Force grip and started it spinning slowly. Still spinning, it floated off to their left, keeping close in to the wall. It approached one of the holes...

And with a flash of light and the multiple crunch of shattered rock, it vanished into the hole. Mara Jade! Child Of Wings gasped. Your weapon-claw—

"It's all right," Luke calmed him. He kept his eyes on the hole, not daring to look at Mara. If she'd miscalculated...

And then, with a second loud crumbling of rock, a long sluglike creature sagged out of the hole, covered with pink blood still oozing from a half-dozen deep cuts across its body. Moving in an almost grotesque slow-motion, it slid down the mossy wall and came to a stop against a stone on the ground. A coiled tongue rolled loosely out of the slack mouth, followed by Mara's lightsaber. There was a gasp from one of the Qom Jha. So that is what they are like, Keeper Of Promises said.

"You hadn't seen one before?" Luke asked.

No, the Qom Jha replied. We did not encounter them until thirty seasons ago. Luke cocked an eyebrow. "Really. Weren't they here before that, or had you just not run into them?"

I cannot properly answer that question, Keeper Of Promises said. Only rarely have the Qom Jha ever come into this part of the cavern.

"Trouble?" Mara asked as she reached out with the Force to retrieve her lightsaber.

"There seems to be some question as to whether this room was like this up until thirty years ago," Luke told her.

"Interesting," Mara said, looking at her now bloodied lightsaber with distaste. Easing it around the corner into the chamber, she wiped it off on an edge of the white moss. "Could be someone moved into the High Tower about then and wanted to discourage casual tourism."

"That's one possibility," Luke agreed.

"Well, I did mine," Mara said, inspecting her lightsaber again. "You can do the next—what, about thirty of them?"

"About that," Luke confirmed, doing a quick estimate of the number of holes in the cavern's walls.

"You think they might be smart enough to realize we're too big to eat?"

"I'd hate to count on it," Mara said. "There's more than enough speed and muscle behind those tongues to break bone."

"Agreed," Luke said. "I don't suppose there would be any path across that would be out of their range."

"Wouldn't want to count on that, either," Mara said. "Anyway, it seems straightforward enough. We hug one wall and slice up each of them from the side as we get to it." Luke grimaced. Straightforward enough, certainly, but rather bloody. The creatures were nonsentient, of course, and it was vitally important that he and Mara get past them. But he still didn't relish the idea of so much wholesale slaughter.

But maybe there was another way. "Keeper Of Promises, you've obviously run into these things before," he said, looking back over his shoulder. "What do they eat?" Keeper Of Promises fluttered his wings. There are migrations of insects at the beginning and closing of each season.

"Hmm?" Mara asked.

"Migrating insects," Luke translated.

"Ah," Mara said. "Except when they can get fresh Qom Jha, I suppose." Splitter Of Stones ruffled his wings warningly. Do not be insulting, Jaded Of Mara.

"Of course, that doesn't explain what they're eating right now," Mara went on. "Not much in the way of insects down here at the moment."

"At least not any visible ones," Luke said. Closing down his lightsaber, he eased into the chamber, keeping close to the wall. Extending his lightsaber handle out as far as he could, he gave the moss a sharp whack.

There was a sudden rumbling buzz; and abruptly a dozen large insects burst from unseen cavities in the moss, flying off madly across the chamber in all directions.

They didn't get very far. As suddenly as the insects had appeared there was a flurry of snapping tongues, and a moment later the chamber again settled down into silence. Behind Luke, Artoo gurgled nervously. "Interesting," Mara commented. "That moss layer must be thicker than it looks." She eyed Luke. "I hope you're not going to suggest we beat the walls and try to sneak across while the feeding frenzy is going on."

"You're half right," Luke said, igniting his lightsaber and again stepping into the chamber. Easing the glowing blade tip into the moss, he carefully cut a meter-wide square of the material out of the general expanse. He closed down the weapon and returned it to his belt, got a good grip on the edges, and pulled.

With an oddly discomfiting tearing sound, a fifteen-centimeter-thick patch came away. Luke caught it across his forearms, trying to hold it more or less together, wincing at the sight of a hundred suddenly disturbed grubs scurrying across the surface or burrowing back into the moss.

"Lovely," Mara said, coming to his side. "And now it's feeding time?"

"That's the plan," Luke said, easing over toward the next hole in line and lobbing the patch in front of it. The tongue snapped out, and in a flurry of moss dust the patch vanished.

"Let's see if it worked," Mara said, stepping past Luke and stretching her lightsaber blade in front of the hole.

Nothing happened. "Looks good," she decided. "Better get the droid past while he's still chewing."

"Right," Luke said, turning and getting a Force grip on Artoo. "Child Of Winds, Qom Jha—let's go."

A minute later they were all on the far side of the lair. "Well, I'm impressed," Mara declared, easing out of her guard stance to join them.

"And it didn't require us to kill," Luke pointed out, igniting his lightsaber and stepping over toward the next predator lair.

"Except a bunch of insects," Mara said. "You have a problem with insects, by the way?" He thought he'd been hiding it better than that. "They remind me of those droch things, that's all. No problem."

"Ah," Mara said, closing down her lightsaber and stepping around behind Luke. "Tell you what: you cut, and I'll peel. Okay?"

* * *

Two hours later, they finally stopped for the night.

"At least, I think it's night," Luke said, frowning at his chrono. "I just realized I never got around to changing this thing to local time."

"It's night," Mara assured him, leaning thankfully back against her chosen rock and closing her eyes. Later, she knew, she would pay for this with numerous aches and pains from the dampness and sharp edges. But at the moment it felt immensely good. "Night is defined as time for all good little boys and girls to go to sleep. Therefore, it is definitely night."

"I suppose so," Luke said.

Mara opened her eyes and peered across at him. There had been a flicker of something in his emotions just then. "No?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, you're right," he conceded, a bit reluctantly. "We need to sleep." Instead of what? Mara stretched out with the Force, trying to read deeper into his mind. But the way was blocked, with nothing she could detect except a barrier of uncertainty tinged with—

She frowned. Embarrassment? Was that really what she was getting?

It was. And for the great Jedi Master Luke Skywalker to even have such an emotion was definitely evidence of progress.

And given that, the last thing she wanted to do was make it easy for him. When he was finally willing to crack his shell far enough to ask her about her relationship with Lando, she would tell him. Not before.

And maybe by that time he would be able to hear the other, more troubling things she had to say to him.

Maybe.