by Timothy Zahn
Star Wars: Thrawn: Alliances is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Lucasfilm Ltd. & ® or ™ where indicated. All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
DEL REY and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
ISBN 9780525480488
International edition ISBN 9781524798925
Ebook ISBN 9780525480730
randomhousebooks.com
Book design by Elizabeth A. D. Eno, adapted for ebook
Cover design: Scott Biel
Cover art: Two Dots
v5.3.1
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
The Del Rey Star Wars Timeline
Epigraph
Prologue: Now
Prologue: Then
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue: Then
Epilogue: Now
Dedication
Other Star Wars Books by Timothy Zahn
About the Author
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away….
“I have sensed a disturbance in the Force.”
Emperor Palpatine paused, stretching out his thoughts to the two men standing before his throne, awaiting their reactions.
No. Not men. Of course not men. Men were insignificant, pitiable creatures, fit only to be ruled, or intimidated, or sent to die in battle. These were far more than mere men.
A Chiss grand admiral, a strategic and tactical genius. A Sith Lord, ruthless and powerful in the Force.
They were watching him, Palpatine knew, each trying in his own way to glean some understanding as to why they’d been summoned. Grand Admiral Thrawn was observing his Emperor’s voice, face, and body stance. Lord Vader, in contrast, was stretching out with the Force toward his Master.
Palpatine could feel all that. But he could also feel the tension between these, his two most useful servants.
The tension wasn’t simply because each wished to be the one standing alone at his Master’s side at the center of Imperial power, though that was certainly part of it.
There was more. Much more. Thrawn had recently suffered a serious defeat, permitting a small group of rebels he’d successfully trapped on the planet Atollon to slip through his fingers. That failure had earned Vader’s contempt.
Thrawn, in his turn, strongly opposed the Death Star project favored by Vader, Grand Moff Tarkin, and Palpatine himself, pushing instead for his own prized TIE Defender project on Lothal. So far Thrawn’s opposition had not reached the level of open resistance, but the Emperor knew it was only a matter of time. Vader knew that, as well.
But Palpatine hadn’t brought them here to offer an opportunity for reconciliation. Certainly not to mediate personally in their conflict. There were other, far deeper considerations.
Thrawn had given his oath of loyalty to the Empire. But that loyalty had never been fully tested. Vader stood beside Palpatine as the Sith Master’s apprentice. But his previous life among the Jedi could not simply be ignored nor casually dismissed.
Here, with this intriguing Force disturbance, was the opportunity to deal with both issues.
Palpatine raised his eyes briefly toward the high window in his throne room. The Star Destroyer Chimaera was visible in the distance, a barely discernible arrowhead shape floating high above Coruscant’s buildings and skylanes. Normally, military craft that large weren’t permitted closer than low orbit. But Palpatine had wished the ship to be present during this meeting, a subtle reminder to both his servants of what had been given to Thrawn, and what could be taken away.
Vader spoke first, as Palpatine had known he would. “Perhaps you sense the rogue Jedi Kanan Jarrus,” he said. “Or the creature Admiral Thrawn claimed to have encountered on Atollon.”
Palpatine smiled thinly. Of course he wasn’t sensing Jarrus. That particular disturbance had long since been noted, codified, and dismissed, a fact Vader knew only too well. The suggestion was nothing more than a reminder to Thrawn—and to Palpatine—of the Chiss’s humiliating defeat.
Thrawn gave no visible reaction to Vader’s comment. But Palpatine could sense a hardening of his attitude. He’d already promised the Emperor that he would deal with Jarrus and the Phoenix rebels who had so recently escaped him. Much of that failure had been due to factors not under Thrawn’s control, which was why Palpatine hadn’t taken the Seventh Fleet away from him.
But Vader had no patience for failure of any sort, no matter what the reasons or excuses. For now, he was waiting; but he was more than ready to step in to solve that particular problem if the grand admiral failed.
“This disturbance comes from neither,” Palpatine said. “It is something new. Something different.” He looked back and forth between his servants. “Something that will require both of you working together to uncover.”
Again, neither of them visibly reacted. But Palpatine could sense their surprise. Their surprise, and their reflexive protest.
Working together?
This time, it was the Chiss who spoke first. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I believe my duty and my abilities would be best used elsewhere,” he said. “The rebels who escaped Atollon must be tracked down and eliminated before they can regroup and join with other cells.”
“I agree,” the Emperor said. “But the Seventh Fleet and Commander Woldar can deal with that without you for now. Grand Moff Tarkin will also be joining the commander while his new assignment is being prepared for him.”
Palpatine sensed a flicker in Vader’s emotions, perhaps a hope that Thrawn would mistakenly believe this was the right time and place to once again raise objections to the Death Star project. Palpatine paused, offering the grand admiral the opportunity to do just that.
But Thrawn remained silent.
“While Woldar and Tarkin find and deal with the rebels,” the Emperor continued, “you and Lord Vader will take your flagship to deal with this other matter.”
“Understood, Your Majesty,” Thrawn said. “May I point out that Governor Tarkin is less familiar than I am with this particular rebel cell. Perhaps a more efficient approach would be for Lord Vader to be offered one of my Star Destroyers and seek out this disturbance on his own.”
Palpatine felt a sudden stirring of anger from his apprentice at Thrawn’s unthinking choice of phrase. A Lord of the Sith was not offered a ship. He took what he wanted when he wanted it.
But like Thrawn, Vader knew when to remain silent.
“You surprise me, Admiral Thrawn,” Palpatine said. “I would have expected a
certain eagerness to journey within sight of your home.”
Thrawn’s glowing red eyes narrowed slightly, and Palpatine felt his sudden caution. “Excuse me, Your Majesty?”
“The disturbance is located at the edge of your Unknown Regions,” the Emperor said. “It appears to be centered on a planet named Batuu.” Again, he sensed a reaction to the name. This time, the reaction came from both of them. “I believe you have heard of it?”
Thrawn’s eyes were hooded, the expression on that blue-skinned face swirling with memories. “Yes,” he murmured. “I have indeed heard of it.”
As, of course, had Vader. It was the place where he and Thrawn had long ago interfered, albeit unwittingly, with one of Palpatine’s own plans.
But again, Vader remained silent.
“Very well, then,” Palpatine said. “You, Admiral, will command.” He looked at Vader. “You, Lord Vader, will deal with the disturbance.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Thrawn said.
“Yes, my Master,” Vader said.
Palpatine leaned back into the depths of his throne. “Then go.”
The two servants turned and walked toward the door between the double rows of red-cloaked Imperial Guards silently lining their path. Palpatine watched them go: the Chiss in his white grand admiral’s uniform, the Sith garbed in black, his long cloak swirling behind him.
The solution to this particular puzzle would indeed require both of them. But more important, it would address Palpatine’s lingering questions.
He smiled thinly. Time for Thrawn to face his future.
Time for Vader to face his past.
Anakin Skywalker pursed his lips. “Nope,” he said. “Never heard of it.”
“No reason why you should have,” Padmé Amidala said, shaking her head. She’d left her hair down today, and the tresses flicked with subtle lights as they moved. Anakin had always liked that effect. “It’s on the edge of the Outer Rim, right up against the Unknown Regions.”
“And it’s important why?”
“I don’t know,” Padmé admitted. “All I have is Duja’s message that she’s stumbled onto something going on somewhere in the Batuu area and thinks we ought to investigate it.”
“Something going on somewhere,” Anakin echoed. “Not exactly the most solid intel report I’ve ever heard.”
“That’s what everyone else in the High Command thinks, too.” Padmé paused, and Anakin sensed the mix of trepidation and stubbornness rising up in her. “Which is why I’m going out there myself to check it out.”
Anakin knew his wife well enough to have guessed where this was going. Even so, it was something of a punch in the gut. “Alone?” he asked. Again, not like he needed to ask.
“Of course not,” Padmé said. “Duja’s already there, remember? Oh, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like a—” There was a barely noticeable pause as she reflexively reminded herself where everyone else in the office complex was and confirmed that no one was in a position to eavesdrop. “—husband. Or at least a Jedi protector,” she added with an impish smile.
Anakin smiled back. There had been a time when that was all he was to her. Though even then he’d wanted more. “Well, I am a Jedi protector, you know,” he said. “No reason I shouldn’t look or talk like one.” He clenched his teeth briefly, forcing back his rising emotion the way his Jedi instructors had taught him. “Unfortunately, I’m also a Jedi general, and there’s a battle coming up that I’m supposed to lead. If only…”
He broke off. If only Ahsoka hadn’t left the Jedi Order. But she had, and she was sorely missed, and not only for her battle skills.
Maybe Padmé was thinking the same thing, and missing Anakin’s young Padawan almost as much as he was. At the very least, she understood enough not to ask him if someone else could fill in for him in the upcoming battle. “It’ll be okay,” she said instead. “You’ve met some of my former handmaidens. You know how well trained they are in combat and espionage.”
“Duja’s a decent one?”
“One of the best,” Padmé assured him. “Once we’re together, it’ll be the enemy whose protector needs to be worried.”
“Maybe.” Anakin cocked an eyebrow. “Not one of your better lines, by the way.”
“I know,” Padmé said. “I have to save all of those for the Senate.” She sighed. “Anakin, do you think this war will ever end?”
“Of course,” Anakin said automatically, with an enthusiasm he wasn’t really feeling.
Because it was a question they were all asking. Would it ever end?
Already it had lingered longer than he’d expected. Longer than maybe any of them had expected. So far Chancellor Palpatine was holding things together, keeping the Republic focused and standing firm. But even he couldn’t do so forever. Could he?
So many had died. So very, very many.
But Padmé wouldn’t be one of them. Anakin had promised himself that. “When will you be back?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Padmé said. “There aren’t too many stable hyperlanes in that area, so it’ll take some time just to get there.”
“You want me to work out a course for you?” Anakin suggested. “The Jedi archives might have something better than the standard charts.”
“No, that’s okay,” Padmé said. “Someone might find a record of your search, and I don’t want anyone else to know I’m going out there. You can save that for when you’re coming to join us—that’s when we’ll really need you to crank up the speed.”
“Trust me, I will.” Anakin shook his head. “I don’t know, Padmé. I really don’t like you being out of touch that long.”
“I don’t like it, either,” she admitted. “But the HoloNet never worked very well that far out even before the war, and I doubt it’s gotten any better. Still, there are five private message services that operate in the region, so even if there’s a bit more time lag I should still be able to get information back to you.” She reached over and touched his arm. “I’ll be all right, Ani. Really.”
“I know,” Anakin said.
He knew no such thing, of course. Padmé on Coruscant he could protect, at least some of the time. Padmé at the far edge of nowhere he couldn’t.
But she’d made up her mind, and he knew that further argument would be futile. Padmé’s former handmaidens were fiercely loyal to her, and that loyalty went in both directions. Whether Duja was in trouble, or had simply found trouble, now that she’d asked Padmé for help there was no power in the galaxy that could keep them apart.
“Just promise you’ll let me know what’s going on as soon as you can,” he said, taking her hand in his.
In his left hand, of course, the flesh-and-blood one. Padmé never seemed bothered by the difference, but Anakin never forgot.
“I will,” she said. “A quick trip, a quick assessment, and straight home. I’ll probably be back before you are.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he warned. “And speaking of holding…”
He stepped close to her, and for a moment they stood with their arms wrapped around each other in a lingering hug, a small eye of quiet and peace amid the violent sandstorm that continued to rage throughout the galaxy.
Small, and far too brief. “I have to go,” Padmé said into his shoulder as she pulled gently away.
“So do I,” he said with a quiet sigh. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” Padmé gave him another smile, more tired than impish this time. “At least you’ll have Obi-Wan to keep you company.”
Anakin made an exaggerated face. “Not exactly the same.”
“I know.” She stepped back to him for a quick kiss. “We’ll spend some time together when we’re both back. Some real time.”
“That’s what you always say.” But the
n, that was what he always said, too. “Be careful, Padmé, and come home safe.”
“You, too, Anakin.” She reached up and stroked his cheek. “You’re the one heading into a war, remember. I’m just going to see an old friend.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Right.”
* * *
—
The battle played out like so many that had gone before: minuscule gains here, minuscule losses there, both gains and losses all but swallowed up in the accompanying swirl of death and destruction.
Padmé hadn’t returned by the time the weary forces returned to Coruscant. Nor had she sent any messages. Anakin checked the service she’d said she would use, then queried all the others that operated in that part of the Outer Rim. Nothing. He searched the mass of recent records that routinely came into Coruscant for consideration and archiving, searching for her by name, by her ship design, by her physical description, even by the jewelry she typically wore. Still nothing. He petitioned the Jedi Council to allow him to go look for her himself, but Count Dooku was on the move again and the request was denied. Another battle, a quick one this time, and he was back on Coruscant.
Still no message. But this time, his document search had found a match. Padmé’s ship, or one of the same class and type, had been found abandoned on Batuu. The local hunters who found it said it appeared to be deserted.
Padmé Amidala, senator and former queen of Naboo, had vanished.
There were passengers, Commodore Karyn Faro thought to herself as she stood in the center of the Chimaera’s command walkway, and then there were passengers.
Darth Vader was definitely one of the latter.
Faro scowled at the starscape outside the bridge. In her opinion, passengers of any sort didn’t belong on an Imperial ship of the line. If Vader wanted to fly around the Empire, he should get a ship of his own.
