by Timothy Zahn
Unless he could get the money another way. "It can't be done," he told Organa Solo firmly. "I can't simply walk out on my people. At least, not without—"
Abruptly, the Jawa-robed alien snapped his fingers. Karrde paused in midsentence, watching in fascination as the creature slipped noiselessly back into the accessway tunnel, a slender knife appearing somehow in his hand. He disappeared through the door, and for a moment there was silence. Karrde raised his eyebrows at Organa Solo, got a slight shrug in return—
There was a sudden squeal from inside the accessway door, followed by a sudden flurry of half-visible commotion. Karrde found his blaster in his hand; and he was bringing it to bear on the figures when all the activity abruptly stopped. A moment later, the alien reappeared, forcing a half-crouched figure before him.
An all-too-familiar figure. "Well, well," Karrde said, lowering his blaster but not holstering it. "Councilor Fey'lya, I believe. Reduced to eavesdropping at doorways?"
"He is unarmed," the robed alien said in his gravelly voice.
"Release him, then," Organa Solo said.
The alien complied. Fey'lya straightened up, his fur rippling madly across his head and torso as he tried to salvage what he could of his composure. "I protest this improper treatment," he said, his voice somewhat less melodious than the Bothan norm. "And I was not eavesdropping. General Bel Iblis informed me of Councilor Organa Solo's revelation concerning the cloning facility on Wayland. I came here, Captain Karrde, to urge you to assist Councilor Organa Solo in her wish to go to Wayland."
Karrde smiled tightly. "Where she would be conveniently out of your way? Thank you, but I believe we've already been through this together."
The Bothan drew himself up. "This is not about politics. Without her warning, the team on Wayland may not survive. And without their survival, the Emperor's storehouse may not be destroyed before the Grand Admiral can remove some of its contents to a safe place."
His violet eyes locked with Karrde's. "And that would be a disaster. To both the Bothan people and to the galaxy."
For a moment Karrde studied him, wondering what was there that Fey'lya was so worried about. Some weapon or technology that Thrawn hadn't found yet? Or was it more personal than that? Unpleasant or embarrassing information, perhaps, either about Fey'lya or the Bothan people generally?
He didn't know, and he suspected Fey'lya wouldn't tell. But the particulars didn't really matter. "Potential disasters to the Bothan people don't worry me," he told Fey'lya. "How much do they worry you?"
There was an uncertain ripple of the fur across Fey'lya's shoulders. "It would be a disaster for the galaxy as well," he said.
"So you said," Karrde agreed. "I repeat: How much does it worry you?"
And this time Fey'lya got it. His eyes narrowed, his fur rippling with obvious contempt. "How much worry will it take?" he demanded.
"Nothing unreasonable," Karrde assured him. "Merely a credit of, say, seventy thousand?"
"Seventy thousand?" Fey'lya echoed, aghast. "What exactly do you think—"
"That's my price, Councilor," Karrde cut him off. "Take it or leave it. And if Councilor Organa Solo is correct, we don't have time for any long discussions."
Fey'lya hissed like an angry predator. "You're no better than a foul mercenary," he snarled, his voice about as vicious as Karrde had ever heard a Bothan get. "You drain out the lifeblood of the Bothan people—"
"Spare me the lecture, Councilor," Karrde said. "Yes or no?"
Fey'lya hissed again. "Yes."
"Good," Karrde nodded, looking at Organa Solo. "Is the credit line your brother set up for me still there?"
"Yes," she said. "General Bel Iblis knows how to access it."
"You can deposit the seventy thousand there," Karrde told Fey'lya. "And bear in mind that we'll be stopping to check on it before we reach Wayland. In case you had any thoughts about backing out."
"I am honorable, smuggler," Fey'lya snarled. "Unlike others present."
"I'm glad to hear that," Karrde said. "Honorable beings are so difficult to find. Councilor Organa Solo?"
She took a deep breath. "I'm ready," she said.
They were off Coruscant and nearly ready for the jump to lightspeed before Leia finally asked the question she'd worried about since coming aboard. "Are we really going to stop to check on Fey'lya's funds?"
"With time as critical as you suggest?" Karrde countered. "Don't be silly. But Fey'lya doesn't know that."
Leia watched him for a moment as he handled the Wild Karrde's helm. "The money's not really important to you, is it?"
"Don't believe that, either," he advised her coolly. "I have certain obligations to meet. If Fey'lya hadn't been willing to cooperate, your New Republic would have had to do so."
"I see," Leia murmured.
He must have heard something in her voice. "I mean that," he insisted, throwing a brief and entirely unconvincing scowl at her. "I'm here because it suits my purposes. Not for the sake of your war."
"I said I understood," Leia agreed, smiling privately to herself. The words were different; but the look on Karrde's face was almost identical. Look, I ain't in this for your revolution, and I'm not in it for you, Princess. I expect to be well paid. I'm in it for the money. Han had said that to her after that stormy escape from the first Death Star. At the time, she'd believed it.
Her smile faded. He and Luke had saved her life then. She wondered if she'd be in time now to save theirs.
Chapter 24
The entrance to Mount Tantiss was a glint of metal nestled cozily beneath an overhang of rock and vegetation. Between them and it, just visible from their hilltop vantage point, was a clearing with a small city lying in it. "What do you think?" Luke asked.
"I think we find another way in," Han told him, bracing his elbows a little harder into the dead leaves and trying to hold the macrobinoculars steady. He'd been right; there was a stormtrooper guard station just off the metal doors. "You never want the front door, anyway."
Luke tapped his shoulder twice: the signal that he'd picked up someone coming. Han froze, listening. Sure enough, there was a faint sound of clumping feet in the underbrush. A minute later, four Imperial troops in full field gear came out of the trees a few meters further down the hill. They walked straight past Han and Luke without so much as looking up, disappearing back into the trees a few steps later. "Starting to get pretty thick," Han muttered.
"I think it's just the proximity to the mountain," Luke said. "I still don't get any indication that they know we're out here."
Han grunted and shifted his view to the village poking out of the clearing down below them. Most of the buildings were squat, alien-looking things, with one really good-sized one facing into an open square. His angle wasn't all that good, but it looked like there were a bunch of Psadans hanging around near the front of the big one. A town meeting, maybe? "I don't see any sign of a garrison down there," he said, sweeping the macrobinoculars slowly across the village. "Must be working directly out of the mountain."
"That should make it easier to get around it."
"Yeah," Han said, frowning as he swung the macrobinoculars back to the town square. That crowd of Psadans he'd noticed a minute ago had shifted into a sort of semicircle now, facing a couple more of the walking rock piles standing with their backs to the big building. And it was definitely getting bigger.
"Trouble?" Luke murmured.
"I don't know," Han said slowly, wedging his elbows a little tighter and kicking the magnification up a notch. "There's a big meeting going on down there. Two Psadans . . . but they don't seem to be talking. Just holding something."
"Let me try," Luke offered. "There are Jedi techniques for enhancing vision. Maybe they'll work on a macrobinocular image."
"Go ahead," Han said, handing over the macrobinoculars and squinting at the sky. There were a few wispy clouds visible up there, but nothing that looked like it was going to become a general overcast anytime soon. Figure two hours till sun
down; another half hour of light after that—
"Hmm," Luke said.
"What is it?"
"I'm not exactly sure," Luke said, lowering the macrobinoculars. "But it looks to me like what they're holding is a data pad."
Han looked out toward the city. "I didn't know they used data pads."
"Neither did I," Luke said, his voice suddenly going all strange.
Han frowned at him. The kid was just staring at the mountain, a funny look on his face. "What's wrong?"
"It's the mountain," he said, staring hard at it. "It's dark. All of it."
Dark? Han frowned at the mountain. It looked fine to him. "What are you talking about?"
"It's dark," Luke repeated slowly. "Like Myrkr was."
Han looked at the mountain. Looked back at Luke. "You mean, like in a bunch of ysalamiri cutting off the Force?"
Luke nodded. "That's what it feels like. I won't know for sure until we're closer."
Han looked back at the mountain, feeling his stomach curling up inside him. "Great," he muttered. "Just great. Now what?"
Luke shrugged. "We go on. What else is there?"
"Getting back to the Falcon and getting out of here, that's what," Han retorted. "Unless you're really hot to walk into an Imperial trap."
"I don't think it's a trap," Luke said, shaking his head thoughtfully. "Or at least, not a trap for us. Remember how that contact I told you about with C'baoth was suddenly cut off?"
Han rubbed his cheek. He could see what Luke was getting at, all right: the ysalamiri were here for C'baoth, not him. "I'm still not sure I buy that," he said. "I thought C'baoth and Thrawn were on the same side. Mara said that herself."
"Maybe they had a falling out," Luke suggested. "Or maybe Thrawn was using him from the start and now doesn't need him anymore. If the Imperials don't know we're here, the ysalamiri must have been meant for him."
"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter much who they were meant for," Han pointed out. "They'll block you just as well as they will C'baoth. It'll be like Myrkr all over again."
"Mara and I did okay on Myrkr," Luke reminded him. "We can handle it here. Anyway, we've come too far to back out now."
Han grimaced. But the lad was right. Once the Empire gave up on this deserted-planet routine, chances were the next New Republic team wouldn't even make it into the atmosphere. "You going to tell Mara before we get there?"
"Of course." Luke looked up at the sky. "But I'll tell her on the way. We'd better get moving while we still have daylight."
"Right," Han said, giving the area one last look before he got to his feet. Force or no Force, it was up to them. "Let's go."
The others were waiting just around the other side of the hill. "How's it look?" Lando asked as Han and Luke rejoined them.
"They still don't know we're here," Han told him, looking around for Mara. She was sitting on the ground near Threepio and Artoo, concentrating on a set of five stones she'd gotten to hover in the air in front of her. Luke had been teaching her this kind of stuff for days, and Han had finally given up trying to talk the kid out of it. It looked like the lessons were going to be a waste of time now, anyway. "You ready to take us to this back door of yours?"
"I'm ready to start looking for it," she said, still keeping the stones in the air. "As I told you before, I only saw the air system equipment from inside the mountain. I never saw the intakes themselves."
"We'll find them," Luke assured her, passing Han and walking over to the droids. "How are you doing, Threepio?"
"Quite well, thank you, Master Luke," the droid answered primly. "This route is so much better than many of the earlier ones." Beside him, Artoo trilled something. "Artoo finds it so, as well," Threepio added.
"Don't get attached to it," Mara warned, finally letting the stones drop as she stood up. "There probably won't be any Myneyrshi trails up the mountain for us to follow. The Empire discouraged native activity anywhere nearby."
"But don't worry," Luke soothed the droids. "The Noghri will help us find a path."
"Freighter Garret's Gold, you're cleared for final approach," the brisk voice of Bilbringi Control came over the Etherway's bridge speaker. "Docking Platform Twenty-five. Straight-vector as indicated to the buoy; it'll feed you the course to follow to the platform."
"Acknowledged, Control," Aves said, keying in the course that had come up on the nav display. "What about the security fields?"
"Stay on the course you're given and you won't run into them," the controller said. "Deviate more than about fifteen meters any direction and you'll get a good bump on the nose. From the looks of it, I don't think your nose can afford any more bumps."
Aves threw a glare at the speaker. One of these days he was going to get real tired of Imperial sarcasm. "Thank you," he said, and keyed off.
"Imperials are such fun to work with, aren't they?" Gillespee commented from the copilot station.
"I like to imagine what his expression is going to be like when we burn out of here with their CGT," Aves said.
"Let's hope we're not around to find out for sure," Gillespee said. "Pretty complicated flight system they've got here."
"It wasn't like this before that raid of Mazzic's," Aves said, gazing ahead through the viewport. Half a dozen shield generators were visible along his approach vector, floating loose around the area and defining the flight path the buoy would supposedly give him. "Probably supposed to keep anyone else from flying around the shipyards any old way they want to."
"Yeah," Gillespee said. "I just hope they've got all the glitches out of the system."
"Me, too," Aves agreed. "I don't want them to know how much of a bump this ship can really take."
He glanced down at his board, confirming his vector and then checking the time. The New Republic fleet ought to be hitting Tangrene in a little over three hours. Just enough time for the Etherway to dock, unload the specially tweaked tractor beam burst capacitors they were courteously donating to the Empire's war effort, and get into backup position for Mazzic's attempt to grab the CGT from the main command center eight docking platforms away.
"There goes Ellor," Gillespee commented, nodding off to starboard.
Aves looked. It was the Kai Mir, all right, with the Klivering running in flanking position beside it. Beyond it, he could see the Starry Ice drifting in toward a docking platform near the perimeter. Near as he could tell, everything seemed to be falling into place.
Though with someone like Thrawn in charge, appearances didn't mean much. For all he knew, the Grand Admiral might already know all about this raid, and was just waiting for everybody to sneak in under the net before wrapping it around them.
"You ever hear anything else from Karrde?" Gillespee asked, a little too casually.
"He's not deserting us, Gillespee," Aves growled. "If he says he has something more important to do, then he has something more important to do. Period."
"I know," Gillespee said, his voice noncommittal. "Just thought some of the others might have asked."
Aves grimaced. Here they went again. He'd have thought that opening up Ferrier's treachery at Hijarna would have settled this whole thing once and for all. He should have known better. "I'm here," he reminded Gillespee. "So are the Starry Ice, the Dawn Beat, the Lastri's Ort, the Amanda Fallow, the—"
"Yeah, right, I get the point," Gillespee interrupted. "Don't get huffy at me—my ships are here, too."
