Thrawn_Alliances_Star Wars

by Timothy Zahn

  For another moment, Thrawn remained silent. Faro noted his gaze shifting among the starscape, the regional map, and the close-in diagram of their current hyperlane. “If the existing path cannot be followed, we shall forge one of our own,” he said. “Commodore Faro, change course forty degrees to portside.”

  “Is there another route the Empire is unaware of?” Vader asked.

  “None that I know of in this region,” Thrawn said. “Our options are to send out a scout ship to map a route for us, or to proceed via those same short jumps ourselves. The latter seems the more efficient choice.”

  “That will take time,” Vader warned, an edge of threat in his tone. “The Emperor’s instructions were to proceed with all haste.”

  “Following the hyperlane has proved less than successful,” Thrawn pointed out. “Continuing as we have will likely cost even more time.”

  “Unless we are already at the end of the blockage.”

  Thrawn inclined his head. “Helm?” he called. “Make the jump to lightspeed.”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  Faro turned to the viewport, bracing herself. The stars flared into starlines—

  And with the sputtering tonal descent from the hyperdrive that indicated a failed jump they collapsed again into stars.

  Faro knew better than to swear in front of superior officers. But even so, it was a close thing.

  “Interesting,” Thrawn murmured. If he was perturbed by the failure, it didn’t show in his voice or face. “Commodore: Take the Chimaera forty degrees to portside.”

  “Yes, sir,” Faro said. “A suggestion, if I may?”

  “Your admiral has given you an order,” Vader said.

  “Continue, Commodore,” Thrawn said calmly.

  Faro felt her throat tighten. Vader’s comment, underscoring as it did Thrawn’s order, was in itself an additional order. Was Thrawn simply going to ignore it? “I’ve done some calculations, sir,” she continued hastily, wondering if Vader was going to interrupt. Or worse. “Traveling to Batuu jump-by-jump will take approximately thirty-nine hours. If we instead travel to Mokivj, we can then take a different hyperlane from there to Batuu, with a savings of fourteen to fifteen hours.”

  Thrawn inclined his head. “Show me.”

  Faro keyed the route to the display, bracing herself as she waited for Vader’s inevitable question as to what kind of lane could possibly connect two such minor worlds.

  And it would be an entirely valid question. The nav charts showed that such a pathway existed, but it was even less well defined—not to mention less well traveled—than the one the Chimaera had been following to Batuu. If the same faulty data that had diverted them from the Batuu hyperlane also affected the Mokivj-to-Batuu route, they might find themselves in the same situation they were in right now.

  But for once, the Dark Lord seemed to have nothing to say.

  “An excellent suggestion, Commodore,” Thrawn said. “Set course for Mokivj.”

  “Yes, sir.” Turning to the helm station, Faro caught the eye of the officer seated there and nodded. He nodded back, acknowledging the order, and the massive warship began turning to starboard.

  “Eleven,” Vader said.

  Thrawn turned to him. “Excuse me?”

  “Eleven hours’ savings at the most,” Vader said.

  “Agreed,” Thrawn said. “Still, it will be worthwhile.”

  “Perhaps,” Vader said. “We shall see.”

  * * *

  —

  As Vader had expected, he was right. The jump-by-jump passage to Mokivj took three hours longer than Commodore Faro’s estimate, putting their time savings exactly where he’d calculated.

  He hadn’t wanted to travel to Mokivj. He hadn’t wished to see it.

  But now that they were here, and within sight of the planet…

  “Analysis, Commodore?” Thrawn asked quietly as the Chimaera circled the planet toward the entry point to their target hyperlane.

  “It’s a mystery, sir,” Faro said, frowning at her datapad. “I don’t know any kind of catastrophe other than a comet strike or massive volcanic eruption that could have caused this kind of widespread devastation. But I’m not finding evidence of a comet or any active volcanoes.”

  Vader gazed out the viewport. Where there had once been lush grasslands and forests there were now lifeless plains and deserts across a great swath of the planet’s surface, with only pockets of greenery offering faltering defiance against the surrounding devastation. Clouds covered much of the sky: not white feathery clouds or the gray strata of rain clouds, but brooding masses that promised nothing but the darkness and chill of blocked sunlight.

  “Perhaps it was something even more cataclysmic than a comet,” Thrawn said. “Commander Hammerly, how many moons are you reading?”

  “Moons, sir?” Hammerly asked, sounding bewildered.

  Vader turned to face her. Again, one of Thrawn’s subordinates questioning the admiral’s orders. Perhaps it was time to deliver a reminder of the need for instant and unquestioning obedience. “Yes, sir—moons,” Hammerly added quickly.

  Vader looked at Thrawn. There was no indication that he was considering punishing the commander, not even with a verbal rebuke, for her questioning of his orders. Indeed, he seemed merely intent on receiving her answer.

  Mentally, he shook his head in contempt. Perhaps the admiral’s lack of proper discipline of his subordinates was the reason the rebels at Atollon had escaped him.

  “There should be ten,” Thrawn continued. “Six are relatively small, but four are large enough for their internal gravity to have shaped them into spheres.”

  “What does this matter?” Vader asked. He hooked his thumbs into his belt, feeling a fresh awareness of the lightsaber hanging there.

  “There is little else to occupy our attention while we traverse the system,” Thrawn pointed out. “Besides, I am curious as to the completeness of the Chimaera’s archives.”

  It was a reasonable enough answer, delivered in an eminently reasonable tone.

  But Vader wasn’t fooled. There was a point to everything this Grand Admiral Thrawn did, a hidden plan or motivation or scheme. Once again, he felt the presence of his lightsaber…

  “Your pardon, Admiral, but that’s not what we’re reading,” Hammerly said, frowning at her board. “I count six moons, only one of which is spherical.”

  “The other four must be on the other side of the planet,” Vader said, feeling a stir of impatience. That one was obvious.

  “I think not, my lord,” Thrawn said. “Note the gravity-interaction overlay Commander Hammerly has placed on the display. It indicates no other significant masses in the planetary system.”

  Vader looked at the overlay. He couldn’t do the calculations himself—that was what droids were for—but the sensor officer’s conclusions were laid out at the bottom of the display. “Are you suggesting the missing moons fell to the surface?” he asked.

  “Unlikely,” Thrawn said, a quiet intensity in his voice. “Four masses that size would have turned Mokivj into a blazing inferno of groundquakes and lava.”

  Like Mustafar, Vader noted silently. “Then where are they?”

  Thrawn shook his head slowly. “That is a mystery we must solve.”

  “No,” Vader said.

  A sudden silence descended on the bridge. “Excuse me, my lord?” Thrawn asked, his voice under careful control.

  “We are not here to solve random mysteries,” Vader said firmly. “We are here to seek out the disturbance the Emperor sensed. That, and nothing else.”

  “Of course,” Thrawn said. “But we may discover that the two are connected.”

  “Are they?”

  “I do not know, my lord,” Thrawn said.

  For a long moment, Vader gazed at him, trying to read that alien
mind. But if there was duplicity hidden behind those glowing red eyes, he couldn’t sense it. “Then let us be on our way,” he said.

  “Of course, my lord.” Thrawn turned to Faro. “Commodore, as soon as we are cleared to the hyperlane you will make all speed toward Batuu.”

  “Yes, sir,” Faro said.

  The Chiss turned back to Vader. “I would point out one other thing, Lord Vader. If the Emperor is aware of a presence in this part of space, that same presence may similarly be aware of you.”

  That thought had already occurred to Vader. Many times. “Perhaps,” he said. “But awareness does not necessarily imply preparedness.”

  “No,” Thrawn said quietly. Perhaps the grand admiral, too, was looking back at a distant and unpleasant past. “It does not.”

  “I’ll tell you one thing, Artoo,” Anakin said darkly as he detached his Eta-2 Actis-class Interceptor fighter from its hyperdrive docking ring. “If something’s happened to Padmé, someone on Batuu is going to be very unprepared for what’s about to happen to them.”

  R2-D2 warbled his agreement. That was one of the great things about R2-D2, Anakin thought as he maneuvered the Actis away from the ring and headed lower toward the planet below: the little droid’s willingness to do whatever was necessary to follow his master on the most difficult and dangerous roads.

  Here, the first problem would be to even find the proper road.

  That wasn’t something he usually had to worry about. In space, the Separatist fleets were big and obvious, and on the ground there was always enough smoke and blasterfire to mark the key sites pretty clearly. On the rare occasions when Republic forces got there first, there was usually someone on the ground ready to guide them to where the hostilities were about to begin.

  None of those were likely to be the case on Batuu. Still, the planet was sorely underdeveloped, with only a few outposts and small trading communities reading on his scanners. The message Duja had sent Padmé had specified one of the larger settlements, Black Spire Outpost, as their rendezvous spot. If the women weren’t there, Anakin would move on to the next outpost until he found them.

  R2-D2 had already keyed in the coordinates. Taking a final look at the nav display, Anakin pointed the Actis toward the horizon and poured power to the drive—

  Abruptly, R2-D2 trilled a warning. “What is it?” Anakin said, frowning as he checked his rear display.

  And felt the back of his neck tingle. There was a ship back there, the size of a medium freighter but of unknown configuration.

  Settling into orbit right beside his hyperdrive ring.

  There was no question of how Anakin should react. The ring was his only way out of the system. If the intruder stole it—or worse, destroyed it—Anakin would be stuck here until he could get a message back to Coruscant. Swinging his control yoke hard over, he spun the fighter in a tight curve and headed back toward the ring, doing a quick 360 roll to make sure there were no other surprises in the area.

  It appeared he and the intruder were alone. He straightened out, checked to make sure R2-D2 had the laser cannons energized and ready, and keyed the comm. “Unknown ship, this is General Anakin Skywalker of the Galactic Republic,” he called. “Identify yourself and state your purpose.”

  Nothing. Maybe they didn’t communicate on any of the Republic’s standard frequencies.

  Or, more likely this far out, didn’t speak Galactic Basic.

  Anakin pursed his lips, running through his list of trade languages. He knew Huttese and Jawa Trade Language fairly well, but Batuu was a long way from Hutt influence. Meese Caulf? He was a bit far out for that, but it was the best he had. “Unidentified ship, this is General Anakin Skywalker of the Galactic Republic,” he said, working hard to wrap his mouth around the Meese Caulf words and hoping he was getting the grammatical structure right. “You are intruding on Republic equipment and interfering with a Republic mission. I order you to pull back and identify yourself.”

  “I greet you,” a calm voice came back in the same language. “Did you give your name as General Skywalker?”

  “I did,” Anakin said, frowning. “Why, have you heard of me?”

  “No, not at all,” the other said. “I was merely surprised. Let me assure you I mean no harm to you or your equipment. I merely wished a closer look at this interesting device.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Anakin said. “You’ve had your look. Pull back as ordered.”

  There was a pause. Then, at a leisurely pace, the ship drifted away from the ring. “May I ask what brings a Republic envoy to this part of space?” the intruder asked.

  “May I ask what business it is of yours?” Anakin countered. It wasn’t very polite, but he wasn’t feeling in a particularly polite mood. Every minute he was stuck out here making sure this prowler behaved himself was a minute he couldn’t spend looking for Padmé. “You can be on your way at any time.”

  “On my way?”

  “To continue your travels,” Anakin said. “To go wherever you were going before you stopped to look at my hyperdrive ring.”

  Another silence. The alien ship, to Anakin’s annoyance, had halted its sideways drift and was now pacing the hyperdrive ring at a distance of a hundred meters. Still far too close for comfort. “Yes, I could continue on my way,” the intruder said. “But it might be more useful for me to assist you in your quest.”

  R2-D2 gave a puzzled twitter. “I already told you I was on a Republic mission,” Anakin said. “It’s not a quest.”

  “Yes, I recall your words,” the intruder assured him. “But I find it hard to believe that a Republic at war would send a lone man in a lone fighter craft on a mission. I find it more likely that you travel on a personal quest.”

  “I’m on a mission,” Anakin ground out. This was starting to be really irritating. “Directly ordered here by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself.” Not that Palpatine even knew Anakin was here, of course, let alone sanctioning the mission. But if the stranger had heard of the Clone Wars he’d surely heard of Palpatine, and dropping the chancellor’s name might add some weight to his side of the conversation. “And I don’t have time for this.”

  “Agreed,” the other said. “Perhaps it would be best if I were to simply show you the location of the ship you seek.”

  Anakin’s hands tightened on the yoke. “Explain,” he said quietly.

  “I know where the Nubian ship landed,” the intruder said. “I know the pilot is missing.”

  Anakin ground his teeth. “So you intercepted a private transmission?”

  “I have my own sources of information,” the intruder said, his voice still calm. “Like you, I seek information, on that and other matters. Also like you I’m alone, without the resources to successfully investigate. Perhaps in alliance with a Republic general we may find the answers both of us seek.”

  “Interesting offer,” Anakin said. And now, finally, he was close enough. Taking a deep breath, he stretched out to the Force.

  The intruder wasn’t human, though of course Anakin had already guessed that. He was near-human, though, like many other species in the Republic.

  But the texture of his mind was unlike anything Anakin had ever touched before. It was neat and well ordered, the patterns of thought flowing smoothly and precisely in ways not unlike those of scientists or mathematicians. But the content of that flow, and the muted emotions accompanying it, were completely opaque. It was like a neat and precise array of unfamiliar numbers.

  He also wasn’t alone. There was a second nonhuman aboard.

  “You say it’s just the two of us?” Anakin continued, targeting the likely position of the ship’s hyperdrive. If the intruder would lie about being alone, he would probably lie about other things, too.

  Worse, the most likely reason for him to lie about Padmé’s ship was if he was involved somehow in her disappearance. If that was the case, A
nakin wanted to keep him here until he got some real answers.

  “Yes,” the intruder said. “Plus my pilot and your droid, of course.”

  Anakin paused, his finger on the firing controls. “You didn’t mention your pilot.”

  “Neither did you mention your droid,” the intruder pointed out. “Since neither will be joining us in our investigation, I didn’t think they entered into the discussion.”

  “Artoo usually comes with me on missions.”

  “Indeed?” the intruder said. “Interesting. I was unaware that navigational machines had other uses. Do we have an alliance?”

  Anakin glowered at the alien ship. If the second being really was just a pilot, maybe that hadn’t been a lie so much as a mostly honest omission. Even now, after years of warfare, there were still Republic politicians who refused to accept clones as real human beings. Maybe for some unknown reason this particular culture considered pilots to be second-class citizens, as well. “So what answers are you looking for?”

  “I wish to more fully understand this conflict in which you’re embroiled,” the intruder said. “I wish answers of right and wrong, of order and chaos, of strength and weakness, of purpose and reaction.” There was a slight pause; and when the voice came back there was a new formality to it. “You asked my identity. I am now prepared to give it. I am Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo, officer of the Expansionary Defense Fleet, servant of the Chiss Ascendancy. On behalf of my people, I ask your assistance in learning of this war before it sweeps its disaster over our own worlds.”

  “I see,” Anakin said cautiously. There were long-standing rumors of vast civilizations lurking out beyond the borders of Wild Space. Was this Chiss Ascendancy one of them?

  And if so, could they be persuaded to join the war effort on the Republic’s side? That possibility alone might make it worth coming to an agreement with this Mitth’raw’nuruodo. “Very well,” he said. “On behalf of Chancellor Palpatine and the Galactic Republic, I accept your offer.”