by Timothy Zahn
Bremen drew himself up to his full height. “We’re not doing this to be popular, Solo. We’re doing this to protect New Republic lives—yours and your children’s among them, if you recall. I presume Councilor Organa Solo will be at Mon Mothma’s briefing; if she has any complaints or suggestions, she can present them there. Until then, I don’t want to hear anything about Jade from anyone. Especially you. Is that clear, Captain Solo.”
Han sighed. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Good.” Spinning around again, Bremen continued on his way down the corridor. Han watched him go, glowering at his back.
“You do have a way with people, don’t you?” a familiar voice said wryly from beside him.
Han turned in mild surprise. “Luke! When did you get back?”
“About ten minutes ago,” Luke told him, nodding down the corridor. “I called your room, and Winter told me you two had headed down here for a special meeting. I was hoping to catch you before you went in.”
“I’m not invited, actually,” Han said, throwing one last glare at Bremen’s retreating back. “And Leia stopped by Mara’s room first.”
“Ah. Mara.”
Han looked back at his friend. “She was here when we needed her,” he reminded the younger man.
Luke grimaced. “And I wasn’t.”
“That wasn’t what I meant,” Han protested.
“I know,” Luke assured him. “But I still should have been here.”
“Well …” Han shrugged, not really sure what to say. “You can’t always be here to protect her. That’s what she’s got me for.”
Luke threw him a wry smile. “Right. I must have forgotten.”
Han looked over his shoulder. Other diplomats and Council aides were starting to show up, but no Leia yet. “Come on—she must have gotten hung up somewhere. We can meet her halfway.”
“I’m surprised you’re letting her walk around the Palace alone,” Luke commented as they headed back along the row of ch’hala trees.
“She’s not exactly alone,” Han said dryly. “Chewie hasn’t let her out of his sight since the attack. The big fuzzball even sleeps outside our door at night.”
“Must give you a safe feeling.”
“Yeah. The kids’ll probably grow up allergic to Wookiee hair.” He glanced over at Luke. “Where were you, anyway? Your last message said you’d be back three days ago.”
“That was before I got stuck on—” Luke broke off, eyeing the people beginning to wander through the corridor. “I’ll tell you later,” he amended. “Winter said that Mara was under house arrest?”
“Yeah, and it looks like she’s going to stay there,” Han growled. “At least till we can convince the bit-pushers down in Security that she’s clear.”
“Yes,” Luke said hesitantly. “Well, that might not be as easy as it sounds.”
Han frowned. “Why not?”
Luke seemed to brace himself. “Because she spent most of the war years as a personal assistant to the Emperor.”
Han stared at him. “I hope you’re kidding.”
“I’m not,” Luke said, shaking his head. “He had her going all over the Empire doing jobs for him. They called her the Emperor’s Hand.”
Which was what that Imperial major down in the medical wing had called her. “That’s great,” he told Luke, turning to face forward again. “Just great. You could have told us.”
“I didn’t think it was important,” Luke said. “She’s not with the Empire now, that’s for sure.” He threw Han a significant glance. “And I suppose most of us have things in our background we wouldn’t want people talking about.”
“Somehow, I don’t think Bremen and his Security hotshots are going to see it that way,” Han said grimly.
“Well, we’ll just have to convince them—”
He broke off. “What is it?” Han asked.
“I don’t know,” Luke said slowly. “I just felt a disturbance in the Force.”
Something cold settled into the pit of Han’s stomach. “What kind of disturbance?” he asked. “You mean like danger?”
“No,” Luke said, his forehead wrinkled with concentration. “More like surprise. Or shock.” He looked at Han. “And I’m not sure … but I think it was coming from Leia.”
Han’s hand dropped to the grip of his blaster, his eyes flicking around the corridor. Leia was up there with a former Imperial agent … and she was surprised enough for Luke to pick up on it. “You think we should run?” he said quietly.
“No,” Luke said. His hand, Han noted, was fingering his lightsaber. “But we can walk fast.”
From outside the door came the muffled voice of the G-2RD guard droid, and with a tired sigh Mara shut down her data pad and tossed it on the desk in front of her. Eventually, she assumed, Security would get tired of these polite little sweetness-coated interrogation sessions. But if they were, it wasn’t showing yet. Reaching out with the Force, she tried to identify her visitor, hoping at least that it wasn’t that Bremen character again.
It wasn’t; and she had just enough time to get over her surprise before the door opened and Leia Organa Solo walked in.
“Hello, Mara,” Organa Solo nodded in greeting. Behind her, the guard droid closed the door, giving Mara a brief glimpse of an obviously unhappy Wookiee. “I just stopped in to see how you were doing.”
“I’m just terrific,” Mara growled, still not sure whether getting Organa Solo instead of Bremen was a step up or a step down. “What was all that about outside?”
Leia shook her head, and Mara caught a flicker of the other woman’s annoyance. “Somebody in Security apparently decided you shouldn’t have more than one guest at a time unless it was one of them. Chewie had to stay outside, and he wasn’t very happy about it.”
“I take it he doesn’t trust me?”
“Don’t take it personally,” Leia assured her. “Wookiees take these life-debts of theirs very seriously, you know. He’s still pretty upset that he nearly lost all of us to that kidnap squad. Actually, at this point he probably trusts you more than he trusts anyone else in the Palace.”
“I’m glad someone does,” Mara said, hearing the bitterness in her voice. “Maybe I should ask him to have a little talk with Colonel Bremen.”
Organa Solo sighed. “I’m sorry about this, Mara. We’ve got a meeting downstairs in a few minutes and I’m going to try again to get you released. But I don’t think Mon Mothma and Ackbar will okay it until Security finishes their check.”
And when they found out that she really had been the Emperor’s Hand … “I should have kept pushing Winter to get me a ship out of here.”
“If you had, the twins and I would be in Imperial hands now,” Organa Solo said quietly. “On our way to be the prizes of his Jedi Master C’baoth.”
Mara felt her jaw tighten. Offhand, she couldn’t think of many fates more horrible than that one. “You’ve already thanked me,” she muttered. “Let’s just say you owe me one and leave it at that, okay?”
Organa Solo smiled slightly. “I think we owe you a lot more than just one,” she said.
Mara looked her straight in the eye. “Remember that when I kill your brother.”
Organa Solo didn’t flinch. “You still think you want to kill him?”
“I don’t want to discuss it,” Mara told her, getting up from her chair and stalking over to the window. “I’m doing fine, you’re going to try to get me out, and we’re all glad I saved you from C’baoth. Was there anything else?”
She could feel Organa Solo’s eyes studying her. “Not really,” the other said. “I just wanted to ask why you did it.”
Mara stared out the window, feeling an uncomfortable swelling of emotion washing up against the heavy armor-plate she’d worked so hard to build up around herself. “I don’t know,” she said, vaguely surprised that she was even admitting it. “I’ve had two days of solitary to think it over, and I still don’t know. Maybe …” She shrugged. “I guess it was just something about Thrawn trying to steal you
r children.”
For a minute Organa Solo was silent. “Where did you come from, Mara?” she asked at last. “Before the Emperor brought you to Coruscant.”
Mara thought back. “I don’t know. I remember the first time I met the Emperor, and the ride here in his private ship. But I don’t have any memories of where I started from.”
“Do you remember how old you were?”
Mara shook her head. “Not really. I was old enough to talk to him, and to understand that I would be leaving home and going with him. But I can’t pin it down any closer than that.”
“How about your parents? Do you remember them?”
“Only a little,” Mara said. “Not much more than shadows.” She hesitated. “I have a feeling, though, that they didn’t want me to go.”
“I doubt the Emperor gave them any choice in the matter,” Organa Solo said, her voice suddenly gentle. “What about you, Mara? Did you have any choice?”
Mara smiled tightly through a sudden inexplicable welling up of tears. “So that’s where you’re going with this. You think I risked my life for your twins because I got taken from my home the same way?”
“Were you?”
“No,” Mara said flatly, turning back to face her. “It wasn’t like that. I just didn’t want C’baoth getting his crazy grip on them. Just leave it at that.”
“All right,” Organa Solo said, in a voice that said she only half believed it. “But if you ever want to talk more about it—”
“I know where to find you,” Mara finished for her. She still didn’t believe she was telling Organa Solo all this … but down deep she had to admit that it felt strangely good to talk about it. Maybe she was getting soft.
“And you can call on me anytime,” Organa Solo smiled as she stood up. “I’d better get downstairs to the briefing. See what Thrawn’s fighting clones are up to today.”
Mara frowned. “What fighting clones?”
It was Organa Solo’s turn to frown. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“The Empires found some Spaarti cloning cylinders somewhere. They’ve been turning out huge numbers of clones to fight against us.”
Mara stared at her, an icy chill running through her. Clones …“No one told me,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Organa Solo said. “I thought everyone knew. It was the main topic of conversation in the Palace for nearly a month.”
“I was in the medical wing,” Mara said mechanically. Clones. With the Katana-fleet ships to fight from, and with the cold-blooded genius of Grand Admiral Thrawn to command them. It would be the Clone Wars all over again.
“That’s right—I’d forgotten,” Organa Solo acknowledged. “There was so much else going on.” She was looking oddly at Mara. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Mara said, her voice sounding distant in her ears as the memories flashed across her mind like heal lightning. A forest—a mountain—a hidden and very private warehouse of the Emperor’s personal treasures—
And a vast chamber full of cloning tanks.
“All right,” Organa Solo said, clearly not convinced but equally unwilling to press the point. “Well … I’ll see you later.” She reached again for the door handle—
“Wait.”
Organa Solo turned back. “Yes?”
Mara took a deep breath. The very existence of the place had been a sacred trust, known to only a handful of people—the Emperor had made that clear time and time again. But for Thrawn to have a renewable army of clones to throw against the galaxy … “I think I know where Thrawn’s Spaarti cylinders are.”
Even with her rudimentary sensing abilities she could feel the wave of shock that rippled outward from Organa Solo. “Where?” she asked, her voice tightly controlled.
“The Emperor had a private storehouse,” Mara said, the words coming out with difficulty. His wizened face seemed to hover before her, those yellow eyes gazing at her in silent and bitter accusation. “It was beneath a mountain on a world he called Wayland—I don’t know if it even had an official name. It was where he kept all of his private mementos and souvenirs and odd bits of technology he thought might be useful someday. One of the artificial caverns held a complete cloning facility he’d apparently appropriated from one of the clonemasters.”
“How complete was it?”
“Very,” Mara said with a shiver. “It had a full nutrient delivery system in place, plus a flash-teaching setup for personality imprinting and tech training on the clones while they developed.”
“How many cylinders were there?”
Mara shook her head. “I don’t know for sure. It was arranged in concentric tiers, sort of like a sport arena, and it filled the whole cavern.”
“Were there a thousand cylinders?” Organa Solo persisted. “Two thousand? Ten?”
“I’d say at least twenty thousand,” Mara told her. “Maybe more.”
“Twenty thousand,” Organa Solo said, her face carved from ice. “And he can turn out a clone from each one every twenty days.”
Mara stared at her. “Twenty days?” she echoed. “That’s impossible.”
“I know. Thrawn’s doing it anyway. Do you know Wayland’s coordinates?”
Mara shook her head. “I was only there once, and the Emperor flew the ship himself. But I know I could find it if I had access to charts and a nav computer.”
Organa Solo nodded slowly, her sense giving Mara the impression of wind racing through a ravine. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime—” Her eyes focused abruptly on Mara’s face. “You aren’t to tell anyone what you’ve just told me. Anyone. Thrawn is still getting information out of the Palace … and this is well worth killing for.”
Mara nodded. “I understand,” she said. Suddenly, the room was feeling chillier.
“All right. I’ll try to get some extra security up here. If I can do it without drawing unwelcome attention.” She paused, cocking her head slightly to the side as if listening. “I’d better go. Han and Luke are coming, and this isn’t the right place for a council of war.”
“Sure,” Mara said, turning away from her to face the window. The lot was cast, and she had now irrevocably put herself on the side of the New Republic.
On the side of Luke Skywalker. The man she had to kill.
They held the council of war that night in Leia’s office, the one place they knew for certain that the mysterious Delta Source had so far had no access to. Luke glanced around the room as he came in, thinking back again to the tangled series of events that had brought these people—these friends—into his life. Han and Leia, sitting together on the couch, sharing a brief moment of quietness together before the realities of a galaxy at war intruded once more. Chewbacca, sitting between them and the door, his bow-caster resting ready on his shaggy knees, determined not to fail again in the self-imposed duties of his life-debt. Lando, scowling at Leia’s computer terminal and a list of what looked like some kind of current market prices displayed there. Threepio and Artoo, conversing off in a corner, probably catching each other up on recent news and whatever passed for gossip among droids. And Winter, sitting unobtrusively in another corner, tending to the sleeping twins.
His friends. His family.
“Well?” Han asked.
“I did a complete circle around the office area,” Luke told him. “No beings or droids anywhere nearby. How about here?”
“I had Lieutenant Page come in personally and do a counterintelligence sweep,” Leia said. “And no one’s come in since then. Everything should be secure.”
“Great,” Han said. “Now can we find out what this is all about?”
“Yes,” Leia said, and Luke sensed his sister brace herself. “Mara thinks she knows where the Empire’s cloning facility is.”
Han sat up a little straighter, threw a quick look at Lando. “Where?”
“On a planet the Emperor called Wayland,” Leia said. “A code name, apparently—it’s not on any list I can find.�
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“What was it, one of the old clonemaster facilities?” Luke asked.
“Mara said it was the Emperor’s storehouse,” Leia said. “I got the impression that it was a sort of combination trophy room and equipment dump.”
“A private rat’s nest,” Han said. “Sounds like him. Where is it?”
“She doesn’t have the coordinates,” Leia said. “She was only there once. But she thinks she can find it again.”
“Why hasn’t she said something about it before now?” Lando asked.
Leia shrugged. “Apparently, she didn’t know about the clones until I said something. She was undergoing neural regeneration, remember, when everyone here was discussing it.”
“It’s still hard to believe she could just miss the whole thing,” Lando objected.
“Hard, but not impossible,” Leia said. “None of the general-distribution reports she had access to have ever mentioned the clones. And she hasn’t exactly been what you’d call sociable around the Palace.”
“The timing here’s still pretty convenient,” Lando pointed out. “One might even say suspiciously convenient. Here she was, with practically free run of the Palace. Then she gets fingered by an Imperial commando leader and locked up—and suddenly she’s dangling Wayland in front of us and wanting us to break her out.”
“Who said anything about breaking her out?” Leia asked, looking slightly aghast at the whole idea.
“Isn’t that what she’s offering?” Lando asked. “To take us to Wayland if we get her out?”
“She’s not asking anything,” Leia protested. “And all I’m offering is to smuggle a nav computer in to her to get Wayland’s location.”
“Afraid that won’t do it, sweetheart,” Han shook his head. “The coordinates would be a start, but a planet’s a pretty big place to hide a storehouse in.”
“Especially one the Emperor didn’t want found,” Luke agreed. “Lando’s right. We’ll have to take her with us.”
Han and Lando turned to stare at him, and even Leia looked taken aback. “You don’t mean you’re buying this whole thing,” Lando said.
“I don’t think we have any choice,” Luke said. “The longer we delay, the more clones the Empire’s going to have to throw at us.”
