by James Luceno
Rol'Waran's tiny eyes darted. "New terms?"
He was about to say more when the hatch opened to reveal the stout laboratory technician filling the portal. Karrde's accomplices reacted swiftly, but Karrde was just as quick to interpose himself between them and the grinning intruder.
"Crev Bombaasa," he said in genuine surprise. "You're a long way from home."
"As are you, Talon." Bombaasa looked at Shada. "And the always enchanting Shada D'ukal. As for my being far from home, even life in the Pembric system can grow boring."
With an explicit nod, Bombaasa dismissed Rol'Waran and the Rodians, then lowered himself into a chair at the console and deactivated the room's security systems.
"If I recall correctly," he said to Karrde, "the last time we crossed paths was in the ThrusterBurn tapcaf in Er-withat. In search of Jorj Car'das, you and Shada required safe passage through the Kathol sector, which I provided to offset an earlier debt I owed to your former partner, Mara Jade. I mention all this by way of stating at the onset that if you're expecting favors-such as product delivery into the star systems you mentioned-be forewarned that I figure we're already even."
He glanced at Kyp Durron and Ganner Rhysode, then smiled at Karrde. "So why have you come, Talon? And don't tell me you're serious about going into the spice trade."
Karrde looked him in the eye. "I appreciate your frankness, Crev. The fact is the Yuuzhan Vong have changed the way everyone is doing business. Many of the players remain the same, but the field has been rearranged. In the Rim, former Imperials are fighting alongside New Republic forces. Adversaries of long standing are putting aside their differences for a common cause. Even the Hutts have been forced to relinquish part of their space as a means of avoiding all-out war."
Again, Bombaasa glanced at the Jedi. "Yes, the only good thing to come of the war is that it gave Kyp Durron something else to do besides prey on smugglers." He paused briefly to glance knowingly at Karrde's confederates, then sighed. "I thought for certain that would draw a reaction, but I can see that this clearly isn't a moment for levity."
"Laugh all you want," Kyp told him.
"I can laugh all I want," Bombaasa repeated in monotone, then touched his head theatrically. "Did someone here make me say that?"
Ganner placed a calming hand on Kyp's arm.
Bombaasa watched the two Jedi, then nodded at Karrde. "You're right, Talon, the lines have certainly been redrawn. Just where that leaves people like you and me has yet to be determined."
"Speak for yourself, Crev. I know where I stand."
Bombaasa took a breath. "I'm a practical man, Talon. I wish only to survive-and under the best possible circumstances I can arrange for myself. You say your stance is decided. Then suppose you tell me what's on your mind."
Karrde's eyes narrowed. "You won't ship to Tynna, Bothawui, or Corellia."
Bombaasa linked his hands and rested them atop his prominent belly. "That much is true. And I commend you on your acuity in picking just those systems where we have temporarily suspended operations."
"The Yuuzhan Vong are in Hutt space," Karrde continued. "They've already hit Gyndine. So one might reasonably assume that you're merely trying to avoid areas of potential conflict."
"Once more I commend you. Why risk shipments by sending them into contested space? Transgression might even prove dangerous to the bearers of those shipments."
"Then either you're merely being careful, or you're heeding orders that came down from the Hutts."
Bombaasa glanced at the ceiling. "Let's just say that the Hutts, at this juncture, are in a better position to ascertain which areas are dangerous."
Karrde nodded. "I thought so. And how will you justify this conversation to Borga?"
Bombaasa's shoulders heaved in a shrug. "I will relate just what happened here. Talon Karrde wanted product delivered into denied areas, so we failed to come to terms." Irony wrinkled his jowled face. "Borga has been expecting just such an encounter, in any case."
"Playing both sides, is she?"
"Looking out for number one."
Karrde could not restr ain a smile. "I won't forget this, Crev."
Bombaasa steepled his thick fingers and brought them to his double chin. "Then you might mention me to your friends-as affirmation of just whose side I'm on."
"Count on it," Karrde said. "Someday we might all be called to work together-smugglers, information brokers, pirates, and mercenaries-and this strikes me as a good start."
The yammosk vessel Creche hung in stationary orbit above the planet Ando. In the ship's grottolike docking bay, Commander Chine-kal and the priest, Moorsh, welcomed Randa Besadii Diori aboard. First to exit the loathsome slipper-shaped Ubrikkian space yacht that had arrived from Ando were the young Hutt's Twi'lek and Rodian retainers, followed by the tusked humanoid Aqualish who comprised his limited detail of bodyguards. Then, propelled by his muscular tail, the Hutt himself emerged, smiling broadly and instantly at home in the cavernous, dimly lighted space.
"I see that you are as fond of gloom as we Hutts are," Randa told Chine-kal after he had been announced and introductions had been made.
The commander smiled pleasantly. "We favor obscurity when it suits our purpose."
Randa attributed the ambiguity of Chine-kal's remark to the inexperience of the Yuuzhan Vong translator. "You must come to Nal Hutta, Commander, and visit my parent's palace. I'm certain you would find it to your liking."
Chine-kal's politic smile held. "We've heard much about it, young Hutt. Commander Malik Carr was very impressed."
"As Borga was with Commander Malik Carr," Randa replied with courtly poise. "I am eager to learn as much as I can of your operations, so that we Hutts may expedite your needs." His protruding black eyes disappeared briefly behind the membranes that kept them moist. "With so many worlds falling to your superior might, the task of ferrying captives about must be growing tiresome."
"The task distracts us from our principal objective," Chine-kal allowed. "Which is precisely why we are as eager to instruct as you are to learn."
"Then the sooner we begin, the better," Randa said.
"But perhaps you could first show me to my quarters so that I might refresh from the journey."
"We have prepared a place for you, Randa Besadii Diori," the priest answered. "On the way, we thought we might introduce you to the ship's most prestigious passenger."
Randa pressed his hands together in a gesture of respect. "I would be honored."
Chine-kal voiced a brusque command to his guards, who snapped their fists to their opposite shoulders and arranged themselves in an escort formation, some advancing through an iris portal in the hold's biotic bulkhead while others fell in behind Randa and his retinue.
They moved deeper into the ship, passing from one module to the next, on occasion lifted by decks that bulged under them like a tongue being raised to the roof of a mouth. Illumination varied, but the bioluminescence of the bulkheads rarely provided more than a faint glow. What did increase was a certain tang in the air, which while not unpleasant tended to irritate the nasal passages and promote the flow of mucus and tears. Lubricious by design, Randa found the conditions most agreeable.
Chine-kal brought the procession to a halt in the rank belly of the ship and directed Randa's attention to an aperture in the membranous bulkhead that provided a vantage into an adjacent hold. Below, centered in a circular tank of syrupy liquid, floated a tentacled life-form that could only have been created by the Yuuzhan Vong. Sharing the tank with the creature-and plainly attending to it-stood several dozen captives, anywhere from knee- to shoulder-deep in the liquid. Tended to in kind, a few of the captives were being stroked by the tentacles. In one case a human male was entirely entwined by two of the slender appendages.
Randa found himself thinking about certain members of the Desilijic clan who were fond of chaining dancers or servants to themselves. Again his eyes were drawn to the fully embraced human. In the midst of regarding the several beings i
n close proximity to the human, Randa turned excitedly to his Twi'lek majordomo.
"Are those Ryn?" he asked, indicating them with one of his stubby arms.
The Twi'lek regarded them and nodded. "I believe they are Ryn, Excellency."
Chine-kal followed the exchange and asked for a translation. "Something has caught your eye, young Hutt?"
"Indeed, Commander," Randa said. "You have succeeded in capturing a somewhat rare specimen."
"To which do you refer?"
"You see the human your creature takes such an interest in?"
Chine-kal gazed down at the yammosk and its captive attendants. "Keyn, that one is called."
"The sharp-nosed bipeds next to and opposite him," Randa elaborated. "And there, at the adjacent tentacle. They are Ryn-an entertaining species, highly prized by the Hutts, though often disparaged by others."
"Prized for what?"
"They are celebrated for their skill at dancing and singing, but their real talent is prognostication."
Chine-kal waited for the translation, then turned to Moorsh. "Did you know of this?"
"I did not, Commander," the priest said.
Chine-kal cut his eyes to Randa. "They divine, you say?"
"Rather astutely."
"By what technique?"
"Manifold means. I have heard that they can read the future in the creases of the hands, the bumps on the head, the color of the eyes. They sometimes employ a deck of playing cards that are said to have been fashioned by them."
"You have heard," Chine-kal said. "Then you have had no direct experience with them?"
"Sadly, I have not." Randa smiled. "But perhaps you would be willing to relieve them temporarily of their peculiar duties and judge for yourself? Your creation appears to take little interest in them, in any case."
"I confess to being curious about them," Moorsh said in reply to Chine-kal s glance.
The commander nodded and turned to a subaltern of the guards. "Have the six Ryn brought to the young Hutt's compartment."
ELEVEN
To three sides the sea stretched to the horizon-an expanse of surging teal, frosted with whitecaps and dazzled by daybreak sunlight-and at Leia's back climbed the rocky spires and imposing parapets of Reef Fortress, the Hapan royal family's summer home and stronghold in times of crisis.
Against a cool offshore breeze, she hugged herself within the dark-blue wrap of her long cloak and turned through another circle, taking in the island's surf-slapped black-rock shoreline, the majestic fortress, a droid picking wild dewberries, and closer at hand, Olmahk, along with a score of visitors who'd arrived at dawn by dragon yacht to witness the duel between Isolder and Beed Thane.
The archon of Vergill and his seconds were gathered on the square of lush lawn that was to serve as an arena for the contest. As the offended one, publicly dishonored by Isolder's reckless backhand, Thane had been entitled to choose the weapons from a wide assortment that included everything from vibroblades to sporting blasters. The location, however, had been selected by Isolder, who had passed the previous night in Reef Fortress, along with Teneniel Djo, Tenel Ka, Ta'a Chume, Leia, and a minimal staff of advisers and retainers.
Though the designated hour was drawing near, Isolder and his second, retired Captain Astarta, had yet to show themselves. Plainly disquieted by the lapse in etiquette, Tenel Ka was unable to remain still for more than a moment.
Leia could feel the young Jedi's agitation clear across the lawn. It was here at the fortress that she, Jacen, Jaina, and Chewie's nephew Lowbacca had braved carnivorous seaweed and Bartokk assassins to foil Ambassador Yfra's plot to overthrow the monarchy. Here, too, Tenel Ka had finally come to accept the mutilation she had accidentally suffered at Jacen's hand, preferring to make do with her stump rather than employ a prosthesis-even for a swimming race.
As the memories of what Jacen had told her of those events were supplanted by concerns for the present, Leia saw Tenel Ka gaze up one of the hedge-bordered paths that climbed to the fortress and quickly walk away from the lawn. A moment later Ta'a Chume appeared where the natural path debouched into the lawn, her graying auburn hair falling from beneath a tall conical cap, to which was affixed a triangle of gauzy white fabric that veiled her lower face. Notwithstanding Tenel Ka's efforts on behalf on the Hapan monarchy, the former matriarch refused to condone her granddaughter's decision to embrace the life of a Jedi over that of a future queen mother.
Ta'a Chume tracked Tenel Ka's deliberate departure, then she turned and, spying Leia, gathered her long gown in one hand and headed directly for her.
"I trust you slept well, Ambassador," she said as she approached.
"I'd like to report that I did, but in fact, I didn't sleep a wink."
"This business with the duel," Ta'a Chume said in dismissal. "Don't worry."
Leia stared into her green eyes. "You're that confident of your son?"
"You're not?"
"I've seen the best bested, Ta'a Chume."
The former queen mother studied her. "I have to wonder to whom you're referring. Your father, perhaps, bested by your brother; or my son, bested by the smuggler you helped make a hero."
Leia refused to take the bait. "Isolder shouldn't have allowed himself to be provoked."
"But, my dear, what other course of action was open to him after Thane insulted you?"
"He could have allowed me to respond."
Creases formed at the corners of Ta'a Chume's eyes. "My dear Leia, here on Hapes noblewomen are expected to comport themselves as something other than warriors. It has been thus since the founding days of the Consortium. Blame the Lorell Raiders for placing us on pedestals."
"I'm not a Hapan noble, Ta'a Chume. And I've been called far worse than a liar."
"I'm sure you have."
Leia bristled, then regained her composure. "I'm more concerned about unity among the Consortium worlds than I am about defendin g my honor."
Ta'a Chume forced a world-weary sigh. "There can be no unity without honor, Leia. And speaking of honor and dishonor, I've been meaning to inquire about your charming rogue of a husband. Why isn't he here with you?"
Leia held Ta'a Chume's piercing gaze. "Han is contributing in his own way to the war effort."
"What a curious answer." Ta'a Chume lowered her voice in feigned intimacy. "I trust there are no troubles at home."
"There are troubles everywhere. That's why I'm here."
"Indeed." Ta'a Chume fell silent for a moment, then said, "Since your arrival on Hapes I've been meaning to tell you how wrong I was about you."
Leia waited.
"Unlike the Dathomiri witch's daughter"-she glanced in the direction of Tenel Ka-"you chose against becoming a Jedi."
Leia had to remind herself that she was talking with a woman who had not only ordered the murders of her elder son and Isolder's first love, but whose own mother had despised the Jedi almost as passionately as Palpatine had. Isolder's grandmother had wanted to see the Jedi extinguished, if only to prevent the resurrection of what she had deemed an oligarchy ruled by sorcerers and readers of auras.
"Tenel Ka chose wisely," Leia said at last, "as did your son. Teneniel Djo is perfect for Isolder."
Ta'a Chume shook her head. "No, my dear. Their marriage is beset by difficulties. There is talk of Teneniel Djo's returning to Dathomir."
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"
" You would have been perfect for my son. He undertakes this duel as much to demonstrate to me that a man is capable of taking initiative, as to demonstrate to you his continuing affection. That's why, regardless of the outcome of today's contest, you can rely on having my full support in the matter of the Consortium allying itself with the New Republic against the Yuuzhan Vong."
Leia was still recovering from the unexpectedness of the disclosure when Isolder, Teneniel Djo, and Astarta strode into view.
"With mere moments to spare he arrives," Ta'a Chume remarked on seeing them. "How like him."
Trailing th
e prince and queen mother came staffers and other witnesses, including C-3PO, who hurried to Leia's side.
"Mistress Leia," the droid began in a fret, "I had hoped you would decide to spare yourself the torment of having to watch Prince Isolder engage in such an antiquated and obviously vain exercise, in what can only be considered pecking-order politics."
Leia frowned at him, thinking of Corran Horn's contest with the Yuuzhan Vong commander Shedao Shai at Ithor. "As the insulted party, I could hardly absent myself, Threepio."
"But, Mistress," C-3PO pressed, "do you have any idea of what Prince Isolder and Archon Thane are about to do?"
Leia glanced at the lawn where Thane's seconds and Astarta were establishing the ground rules, and the archon and the prince were already donning the sensor-and electrode-studded headgear, power gloves, boots, and body armor that were integral to the contest.
"I have some idea," Leia said.
The droid tilted his head to one side and flapped his stiff arms. "Then you shouldn't permit yourself to watch. This form of hand-to-hand combat has its origin in a martial art developed by the Lorell Raiders when their chief preoccupation was the capture and distribution of female prisoners. While perhaps not as deadly or as mystical in nature as teras kasi-the 'steel hands' technique taught by the Followers of Palawa in the Pacanth Reach star cluster in the Outer Rim-it is nonetheless-"
Leia shushed him. "Isolder spent two years as a privateer," she said quietly. "I'm sure he knows a few moves."
"But, Mistress," C-3PO said hopelessly.
She silenced him again in order to hear what Isolder was telling Thane as they faced off in the center of the lawn.
"Should you win, you will not only have redeemed your honor but earned the right to brag of having defeated the prince of Hapes. Should I win, I gain nothing more than the right to demand that you solicit the pardon of my daughter and of Ambassador Organa Solo for your remarks."
Thane sneered at him. "If you'd like to sweeten the pot, Prince Isolder, you need only say so."
