by Timothy Zahn
Luke looked at each of them in turn, wishing he knew how to explain it. Somewhere deep within him he knew that this was the right thing to do; that this was where his path was leading him. As it had been with that final confrontation with Vader and the Emperor, somehow his destiny and Mara’s were joined together at this place in time. “It’s not a trap,” he said at last. “At least, not on Mara’s part.”
“I agree,” Leia said quietly. “And I think you’re right. We have to take her with us.”
Han shifted in his seat to stare at his wife. Shot a frown at Luke, looked back at Leia. “Let me guess,” he growled. “This is one of those crazy Jedi things, right?”
“Partly,” Leia conceded. “But it’s mostly just simple tactical logic. I don’t think Thrawn would have tried so hard to convince us that Mara was a party to that kidnapping attempt unless he wanted us to disbelieve anything she might have told us about Wayland.”
“If you assume that, you also have to assume Thrawn figured the attempt would fail,” Lando pointed out.
“I assume Thrawn prepares for all contingencies,” Leia said. A muscle tightened in her cheek. “And as you said, Han, there’s also some Jedi insight involved here, I touched Mara’s mind twice during that attack: once when she woke me up, then again when she came in behind the commandos.”
She looked at Luke, and in her sense he could see that she knew about Mara’s vow to kill him. “Mara doesn’t like us very much,” she said aloud. “But on some level I don’t think that matters. She understands what a new round of Clone Wars would do to the galaxy, and she doesn’t want that.”
“If she’s willing to take me to Wayland, I’m going,” Luke added firmly. “I’m not asking any of you to go along. All I want is your help getting Mon Mothma to release her.” He hesitated. “And your blessing.”
For a long moment the room was silent. Han stared at the floor, his forehead creased with concentration, gripping Leia’s hand tightly in both of his. Lando stroked at his mustache, saying nothing. Chewbacca fingered his boweaster, rumbling softly under his breath; in the opposite corner Artoo was chirping away thoughtfully to himself. One of the twins—Jacen, Luke decided—moaned a little in his sleep, and Winter reached over to rub his back soothingly.
“We can’t talk to Mon Mothma about it,” Han said at last. “She’ll go through channels, and by the time anyone’s ready to do anything half the Palace will know about it. If Thrawn wants to shut Mara up for good, he’ll have all the time he needs to do it.”
“What’s the alternative?” Leia asked, her eyes suddenly cautious.
“What Lando already said,” Han told her bluntly. “We break her out.”
Leia threw a startled look at Luke. “Han! We can’t do that.”
“Sure we can,” Han assured her. “Chewie and me had to pop a guy out of an Imperial hotbox once, and it worked just fine.”
Chewbacca growled. “It did too,” Han protested, looking over at him. “It wasn’t our fault they picked him up again a week later.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Leia said, her voice pained. “You’re talking about a highly illegal action. Bordering on treason.”
Han patted her knee. “The whole Rebellion was a highly illegal action bordering on treason, sweetheart,” he reminded her. “When the rules don’t work, you break ’em.”
Leia took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “You’re right,” she admitted at last. “You’re right. When do we do it?”
“We—that is, you—don’t do it,” Han told her. “It’s going to be Luke and me. You and Chewie are staying here where it’s safe.”
Chewbacca started to rumble something, broke off in midsentence. Leia looked at the Wookiee, at Luke—“You don’t need to come, Han,” Luke said, reading in his sister the fears he knew she couldn’t voice. “Mara and I can do it alone.”
“What, two of you are going to take out a whole cloning complex by yourselves?” Han snorted.
“We don’t have much choice,” Luke said. “As long as Delta Source is active there aren’t too many other people we know we can trust. And the ones we can, like Rogue Squadron, are on active defense duty.” He waved a hand to encompass the room. “We’re pretty much it.”
“So we’re it,” Han said. “We’ll still have a lot better chance with three than with two.”
Luke looked at Leia. Her eyes were haunted with fear for her husband’s safety; but in her sense he could find only a reluctant acceptance of Han’s decision. She understood the critical importance of this mission, and she was far too experienced a warrior not to recognize that Han’s offer made sense.
Or perhaps, like Han, she didn’t want Luke going off alone with the woman who wanted to kill him.
“All right, Han,” he said. “Sure—we’ll make it a party of three.”
“Might as well make it a party of four,” Lando sighed. “The way things are going with my Nomad City petition, it doesn’t look like I’m going to have much else to do. It’d be nice to pay them back a little for that.”
“Sounds good to me, pal,” Han nodded. “Welcome aboard.” He turned to Chewbacca. “Okay, Chewie. Now what’s your problem?”
Luke looked at Chewbacca in surprise. He hadn’t noticed any problem there; but now that he was paying attention, he could indeed sense the turmoil in the Wookiee’s emotions. “What is it, Chewie?”
For a moment the other just rumbled under his breath. Then, with obvious reluctance, he told them. “Well, we’d like to have you along, too,” Han told him. “But someone’s got to stay here and take care of Leia. Unless you think Palace Security’s up to the job.”
Chewbacca growled a succinct opinion of Palace Security. “Right,” Han agreed. “That’s why you’re staying.”
Luke looked at Leia. She was looking at him, too, and he could tell that she also recognized the dilemma. Chewbacca’s original life-debt was to Han, and it pained him terribly to let Han go into this kind of danger without him. But Leia and the twins were also under the Wookiee’s protection, and it would be equally unthinkable for him to leave them unguarded in the Palace.
And then, even as he tried to think of a solution, Luke saw his sister’s eyes light up. “I have an idea,” she said carefully.
They all listened to it, and to Han’s obviously stunned surprise, Chewbacca agreed at once. “You’re kidding,” Han said. “This is a joke, right? Yeah—it’s a joke. ’Cause if you think I’m going to leave Leia and the twins—”
“It’s the only way, Han,” Leia said quietly. “Chewie’s going to be miserable any other way.”
“Chewie’s been miserable before,” Han shot back. “He’ll get over it. Come on, Luke—tell her.”
Luke shook his head. “Sorry, Han. I happen to think it’s a good idea.” He hesitated, but couldn’t resist. “I guess it’s one of those crazy Jedi things.”
“Very funny,” Han growled. He looked around the room again. “Lando? Winter? Come on, one of you say something.”
“Don’t look at me, Han,” Lando said, holding up his hands. “I’m out of this part of the discussion.”
“As for me, I trust Princess Leia’s judgment,” Winter added. “If she believes we’ll be safe, I’m willing to accept that.”
“You’ve got a few days to get used to the idea,” Leia reminded him before Han could say anything more. “Maybe we can change your mind.”
The look on Han’s face wasn’t encouraging. But he nodded anyway. “Yeah. Sure.”
There was a moment of silence. “So that’s it?” Lando asked at last.
“That’s it,” Leia confirmed. “We’ve got a mission to plan. Let’s get to it.”
CHAPTER
12
From the corner of the communications desk the intercom pinged. “Karrde?” Dankin’s voice came tiredly. “We’re coming up on the Bilbringi system. Breakout in about five minutes.”
“We’ll be right there,” Karrde told him. “Make sure the turbolasers are manned—no tel
ling what we’re going to run into.”
“Right,” Dankin said. “Out.”
Karrde tapped off the intercom and keyed off the desk’s decrypters. “He sounds tired,” Aves commented from the other side of the desk as he put down his data pad.
“Almost as tired as you look,” Karrde said, giving the display he’d been studying one last scan before shutting it down as well. The report from his people on Anchoron, like the others before it: all negative. “It must be too long since we’ve had to pull double shifts,” he added to Aves. “No one’s used to it anymore. I’ll have to include that in future training exercises.”
“I’m sure the crew will love it,” Aves said dryly. “We’d hate to have people think we were soft.”
“Contrary to our image,” Karrde agreed, standing up. “Let’s go; we’ll finish sorting through these later.”
“For all the good it’ll do,” Aves grunted. “Are you absolutely sure those were clones Skywalker spotted on Berchest?”
“Skywalker was sure,” Karrde said as they left the office and headed for the bridge. “I trust you’ve not suggesting the noble Jedi would have lied to me.”
“Not lied, no,” Aves shook his head. “I’m just wondering if the whole thing could have been a setup. Something Thrawn deliberately dangled in front of you to put us off the real pipeline.”
“That thought has occurred to me,” Karrde agreed. “Even given Governor Staffa’s indebtedness to us, we seemed to get in and out of the system just that little bit too easily.”
“You didn’t mention these reservations when you were passing out search assignments back at Chazwa.”
“I’m sure similar thoughts have already occurred to each of the others,” Karrde assured him. “Just as the thought has undoubtedly occurred to them that if there’s an Imperial agent among us we should do our best to keep him believing we’re buying Grand Admiral Thrawn’s deception. If it is a deception.”
“And if there’s an Imperial agent in the group,” Aves said.
Karrde smiled. “ ‘If we had some bruallki, we could have bruallki and Menkooro—”
“—if we had some Menkooro,’ ” Aves finished the old saying. “You still think Ferrier’s working for Thrawn, don’t you.”
Karrde shrugged. “It’s only his word against Solo’s that he wasn’t a willing agent of the Empire in the Katana-fleet business.”
“That why you had Torve take that assault shuttle off to the Roche system?”
“Right,” Karrde nodded, wishing briefly that Mara was here. Aves was a good enough man, but he needed things laid out in front of him that Mara would have instantly picked up on her own. “I know a couple of Verpine out there who owe me a favor. If the assault shuttle is rigged in any way, they’ll find it.”
The door to the bridge slid open and they stepped inside. “Status?” Karrde asked as he glanced through the viewport at the mottled sky of hyperspace rolling past.
“All systems showing ready,” Dankin said, yielding the helm seat to Aves. “Balig, Lachton, and Corvis are at the turbolasers.”
“Thank you,” Karrde said, sitting down beside Aves at the copilot station. “Stick around, Dankin; you’re going to be captain today.”
“I’m honored,” Dankin said wryly, stepping over to the comm station and sitting down.
“What do you suppose this is all about?” Aves asked as he got the ship ready for breakout.
“No idea,” Karrde admitted. “According to Par’tah, all Mazzic would say was that I might want to come by Bilbringi after our rendezvous with the others at Chazwa.”
“Probably the eye-catching lesson for the Empire he and Ellor were talking about at Trogan,” Aves said heavily. “I don’t think I’m going to like this.”
“Just remember that whatever happens we’re innocent bystanders,” Karrde reminded him. “An incoming freighter with an authorized delivery schedule and a cargo of Koensayr power converters. Perfectly legitimate.”
“As long as they don’t look too close at any of it,” Aves said. “Okay, here we go.” He eased the hyperdrive levers forward, and the starlines appeared and collapsed again into a background of stars.
A background of stars, half-completed ships, service and construction vessels, and floating dockyard platforms. And, almost directly ahead of the Wild Karrde, a massive Golan II battle station bristling with armament.
They had arrived at the Imperial Shipyards of Bilbringi.
Dankin whistled softly. “Look at all that new construction,” he said, his voice awed. “They aren’t kidding around, are they?”
“No, they’re not,” Karrde agreed. “Nor are they kidding around at Ord Trasi or Vaga Minor.” And if Thrawn was putting half as much effort into his cloning operation as he was into warship construction—
“Incoming freighter, this is Bilbringi Control,” an official-sounding voice from the comm cut him off. “Identify yourself and your home port and state your business.”
“Dankin?” Karrde murmured.
Dankin nodded. “Freighter Hab Camber, out of Valrar,” he said briskly into the comm. “Captain Abel Quiller in command. Carrying a shipment of power converters for Dock Forty-seven.”
“Acknowledged,” the controller said. “Stand by for confirmation.”
Aves tapped Karrde on the arm and pointed to the battle station ahead. “They’re launching an assault shuttle,” he said.
And launching it in the Wild Karrde’s direction. “Hold course,” Karrde told him quietly. “They may just be seeing how nervous we are.”
“Or else they’re expecting trouble,” Aves countered.
“Or are cleaning up after it,” Dankin put in. “If Mazzic’s already been here—”
“Freighter Hab Camber, you’re ordered to hold position there,” the controller broke in. “An inspection team is on its way to examine your shipment order.”
Dankin keyed the comm. “Why, what’s wrong with it?” he asked with just the right mixture of puzzlement and annoyance. “Look, I’ve got a business to run here—I haven’t got time for any bureaucratic nonsense.”
“If you’d prefer, we can arrange to end all your scheduling problems right here and now,” the controller offered in a nasty voice. “If that doesn’t appeal to you, I’d suggest you prepare to receive boarders.”
“Acknowledged, Control,” Dankin growled. “I just hope they’re fast.”
“Control out.”
Dankin looked at Karrde. “Now what?”
“We prepare to receive boarders,” Karrde said, letting his gaze sweep across the expanse of the shipyards. If Mazzic was keeping to the tentative schedule he’d given Par’tah, he ought to be showing up sometime soon.
He paused. “Aves, get me a reading on those,” he said, pointing to a cluster of dark irregular spots drifting near the center of the shipyard area. “They don’t look like ships to me.”
“They’re not,” Aves confirmed a few seconds later. “Look to be midsize asteroids—maybe forty meters across each. I make the count … twenty-two of them.”
“Odd,” Karrde said, frowning at the sensor-focus display Aves had pulled up. There were over thirty small support craft in the area, he saw, with what seemed to be a similar number of maintenance-suited workers moving around the asteroids. “I wonder what the Imperials are doing with that many asteroids.”
“Could be mining them,” Aves suggested hesitantly. “I’ve never heard of anyone hauling the whole asteroid to a shipyard, though.”
“Neither have I,” Karrde nodded. “It’s just a thought … but I wonder if they could have something to do with Thrawn’s magic superweapon. The one he hit Ukio and Woostri with.”
“That might explain the heavy security,” Aves said. “Speaking of which, that assault shuttle’s still coming. Are we going to let them board?”
“Unless you’d rather turn and run, I don’t see many alternatives,” Karrde said. “Dankin, how much scrutiny can our delivery schedule handle?”
Karrde swiveled in his seat. The Star Destroyer was, in fact, considerably more than half finished, with only the command superstructure and sections of the forward bastion ridgeline left to add. “I see it,” he said. “What about it?”
“There seems to be some activity around—”
And in midsentence, the starboard flank of the Star Destroyer blew up.
Aves whistled in startled awe. “Scratch one warship,” he said as a section of the forward hull followed the flank to fiery oblivion. “Mazzic, you think?”
“I don’t think there’s any doubt,” Karrde said, keying his main display for a closer view. For a moment, silhouetted against the boiling flames, he caught a glimpse of a half-dozen freighter-sized craft angling swiftly toward the shipyard perimeter. “I also think they may have cut things a bit too fine,” he added, looking up again at the Star Destroyer. A group of disaster-control craft were already swarming in toward the burning ship, three squadrons of TIE fighters right behind them.
And then, abruptly, the focal point of the incoming fighter cloud shifted from the Star Destroyer to the vector the escaping freighters had taken. “They’ve been spotted,” Karrde said grimly, giving the situation a quick assessment. Mazzic’s group was outnumbered and outgunned, an imbalance that would likely get worse before they could get far enough out from the shipyard clutter to make their escape to hyperspace. The Wild Karrde’s three turbolasers would go a long way toward evening those odds; unfortunately, the center of action was too far away for them to make any significant difference to the outcome.
“We going to help him out?” Aves murmured.
“By all rights, we shouldn’t lift a finger,” Karrde told him, keying the nav computer to start their own lightspeed calculation and tapping the intercom. “Helping to salvage careless tactical planning only encourages more of the same. But I suppose we can’t just sit here. Corvis?”
