by Timothy Zahn
"Cap't?" Chin called from the comm. "We getting call from one of the Marauders. You want make him an answer?"
Shada could feel Karrde tense. "Yes, go ahead," he said.
Chin keyed the comm—"Hey, there, Karrde," a familiar gloating voice boomed from the bridge speaker. "I told you you'd see me again before you died, didn't I?"
"Yes, Xern, you did," Karrde agreed, his voice betraying none of the tension Shada knew he was feeling. "I'm surprised you're still alive after that fiasco at Dayark. Rei'Kas must be going soft in his old age."
From the background came a distant flurry of Rodian invective. "Rei'Kas says he'll maybe save you for last for that one," Xern said. "You like that, huh?" Across the bridge, David cleared his throat. "Rei'Kas, this is Admiral Trey David of the Exocron Combined Air-Space Fleet," he said.
"Oh, an admiral, huh?" Xern said sarcastically. "You mean this collection of scrap rates a whole admiral?"
"You're in violation of Exocron space," David said calmly, ignoring the insult. "This is your last chance to withdraw peaceably."
Xern laughed. "Oh, that's rich. That's really rich. We definitely got to save you for last. Then we can gut you all and feed you to the scavengers."
There was another burst of Rodian. "Hey, we got to go, Karrde—time to make the big scrap into lots of little scrap. See you later, Admiral."
The comm keyed off. "They're sure well stocked in the confidence department, aren't they?" Shada murmured.
"Yes," Karrde said. His hand brushed past her shoulder, hesitated, then came back almost reluctantly to rest there. "I'm sorry, Shada," he said, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. "I should never have brought you into this."
"It's all right," Shada said. So this was it: the end of the long journey. Back at the Orowood Tower, facing the Noghri and their blasters, she had been ready to die. Had almost hoped they would overreact and kill her, in fact. The easy way out, she had thought then. Now, facing the incoming pirates, she realized that there were no easy ways out. No way of dying that didn't involve abandoning a responsibility, or leaving necessary work undone—
She glanced up at Karrde, gazing out the viewport, his face set in hard lines. Or, indeed, of leaving friends behind.
Distantly, she wondered when in all of this she had started to think of Karrde as a friend. She didn't know. But it didn't matter. What mattered was doing their best to clean up the mess they'd created here. Shifting her attention back to her displays, she began tagging primary and secondary targets. The leading ships were almost in range...
"Signal to all ships," Admiral David announced. "Pull back. Repeat: pull back." Shada flashed him a frown. "What?"
"I said pull back," David repeated, flashing an almost curious look at her in return. "Which part didn't you understand?"
Shada started to say something blistering; choked it back as Karrde squeezed her shoulder warningly. "She was thinking about the fact that the Wild Karrde isn't as maneuverable close in to a gravitational field as it is in open space," he told David. "Neither are most of the ships in your fleet."
"Understood," David said. "The order remains. Pull back."
"Chief?" Dankin asked.
Shada glanced up again. Karrde was looking at David, measuring the man with his eyes.
"Transmit the order, Chin," he said, his tone suddenly thoughtful. "Dankin, go ahead and retreat, but keep us in formation with the other ships. Shada, have the gunners lay down covering fire."
"Right." Shada keyed her intercom, her eyes searching the displays as she tried to figure out what was going on. The usual tactical reason for pulling back toward a planetary surface was to lure an enemy within range of either ground-based weapons or a surface-launched ambush. But every ship Exocron had was already up here, and H'sishi's sensor probes would certainly have picked up any ground weaponry powerful enough to reach this far into space.
The fleet was beginning to move now, backing toward Exocron as ordered. Some of the armed civilian ships were already firing uselessly at the Corsairs arrowing silently in at them, wasting energy on out-of-range targets. Shada looked at David, but either he hadn't noticed or didn't especially care what they did. Were the civilians nothing but sacrificial lures to him? "Keep retreating," he said instead. "All ships."
The Corsairs were nearly in range, the larger warships formed up behind them now in a straightforward assault line. Little wonder; considering the opposition, there was no need for them to try anything fancy. A. straight slice through the ships arrayed against them, then probably a low strafing loop over Exocron's major population centers, taking out Supreme Admiral Darr's pitiful Airfleet along the way...
"Keep retreating," David said again. "Tactical display, please." H'sishi hissed acknowledgment and the tactical overlay came up. The defenders were all well within Exocron's gravity field now, far too late for any of them to change their minds and try to escape to hyperspace. Was that what David was going for? Shada wondered. Putting them in a position where they had no choice but to fight to the death?
Even as that disturbing thought occurred to her, the last of the pirates passed within that invisible boundary, as well. They were all totally committed to this battle now. Neither the attackers nor the defenders would be leaving Exocron until one side or the other had been destroyed.
"Here they come," David murmured.
Shada looked at him, a bitter retort bubbling in her throat. Of course they were coming—
And abruptly, H'sishi snarled in disbelief.
Shada snapped her attention back to the viewport. The pirates were still there, still coming. But they weren't the ones David had been referring to. Behind the pirates' line, something else had appeared.
It was a spaceship, of course. But it was a ship like nothing Shada had ever seen. Roughly ovoid, half again as big as the Marauders, it was covered with thick hull plates that gave it the appearance of some sort of armored sea creature. Conical projections, possibly exhaust ports or thruster pods, jutted out from the hull with no symmetry or pattern that Shada could spot. A magnified image popped up on one of the displays, showing an intricate array of symbols and alien glyphs covering the hull. At close range, the hull itself looked disturbingly like something alive... Someone on the bridge swore, very quietly. Shada looked at the viewport again, just in time to see three more of the ships wink into existence. Not jump in, with the characteristic flicker of pseudomotion of a normal hyperspace jump, but simply appear.
And then, almost casually, the first alien ship drove up behind one of Rei'Kas's Marauders; and with a glittering, filigreed sheet of blue-green energy discharge sliced it in half. H'sishi snarled. [What are these?] she demanded.
"They're called the Aing-Tii monks," David said, his tone a strange mixture of satisfaction and awe. "Alien beings who spend most of their lives near the Kathol Rift. There's not a lot we know about them."
"Yet they're coming to your aid," Karrde pointed out. "More significantly, you knew they would."
"They hate slavers," David said. "Rei'Kas is a slaver. It's very simple." A second Marauder flashed with fire and streaming air as one of the other Aing-Tii ships sent another of the strange flower-blossoms of energy through its side. Ahead of the wrecked ships, the confident battle line collapsed as the remaining attackers swung around to face this new threat that had appeared so unexpectedly behind them. But to no avail. The Aing-Tii ships shrugged off the frantic turbolaser fire with ease as they systematically drove through the attackers' ranks, cutting up the larger ships and crushing the smaller ones against their own hulls.
"I'm afraid it's not quite that simple, Admiral," Karrde said to David. "According to Bombaasa, Rei'Kas has been setting up in this area for the past year. Why did your Aing-Tii wait this long to move against them?"
"As I said, they prefer to stay near the Rift," David said. "It takes something special to make them come out even as far as Exocron."
"In other words," Karrde said quietly, "you needed someone to lure Rei'
Kas into their territory. And that someone was us."
David didn't move, but Shada could see a subtle new tension now in his face and posture. Perhaps wondering what would happen to him if a bridge full of hardened smugglers decided to be offended at having been used as bait. "It was your actions we used, Captain Karrde," he said. "Your decision to come to Exocron, and your inability to keep Rei'Kas's people from tracking you. It wasn't you personally we were using."
His eyes flicked around the bridge. "Not any of you."
For a long moment the bridge was silent. Shada looked back at the viewport, to find the destruction of the pirates nearly complete. Only three of the Aing-Tii were visible now, and as she watched another of them winked out, leaving as mysteriously as it had arrived. The last two alien ships stayed just long enough to finish their task before they too vanished into the darkness.
"You say we" Karrde said. "Is that just you and the rest of the Exocron military?"
"That's an odd question," David said obliquely. "Who else could be involved?"
"Who, indeed?" Karrde murmured. "Chin, open a transmission frequency to the surface. Threepio, I want a message translated into Old Tarmidian for me."
Shada looked up at him. Karrde's face was carved from stone, his expression unreadable. "Old Tarmidian?" she asked, frowning. "Car'das's language?"
He nodded. "Here's the message, Threepio: 'This is Karrde. I'd like permission to come down and see you again.' "
"Of course, Captain Karrde," Threepio said, moving uncertainly over toward the comm station. Chin nodded, and the droid leaned over his shoulder. "Merirao Karrde tuliak," he said. "Mu parril'an se'tuffriad moa sug po'porai?"
He looked back at Karrde. "You understand, of course, that there may not be an answer for some time—"
"Se'po brus tai," a voice boomed from the speaker, making the droid jump. A strong, vibrant voice, with no hint of weakness or illness. Shada looked up at Karrde again, to find his stonelike expression had hardened even further. "Translation?" he asked. Threepio seemed to brace himself. "He said, sir... come ahead."
* * *
Entoo Nee was waiting for them as the Wild Karrde put down again in Circle 15 of the Rintatta City landing field. His casual manner, his cheerful chatter, and the landspeeder ride along with Shada and Threepio toward the pale blue house against the mountain were like a ghostly repetition of Karrde's last trip through the area a few hours earlier.
But there was one big difference. Then, the driving emotions behind his mood had been fear and dread and the morbid contemplation of his own looming death. Now...
Now, he wasn't sure what his mood was. Puzzlement and uncertainty, perhaps, tinged with a hint of resentment at having been twitched along like a puppet.
And overlaying it all a renewed haze of dread. Car'das, he couldn't help remembering, had always spoken fondly of predators who played with their prey before finally killing them. The blue house itself was unchanged, just as old and sagging and dusty as it had been before. But as Entoo Nee led the way to the bedroom door, Karrde noted that the odor of age and sickness had vanished.
And this time the door opened by itself as they approached. Steeling himself, only vaguely aware that Shada had deftly inserted a shoulder in front of him, the two of them together stepped through the door.
The built-in shelves, with all their useless knickknacks and exotic medical supplies, were gone. The sickbed and its stacks of blankets were gone.
And standing where the bed had been, still just as old but now as vitally alive as he had been feeble then, was Jorj Car'das.
"Hello, Karrde," Car'das said, the vast network of facial wrinkles shifting as he smiled. "It's good to see you again."
"Not that it's been all that long," Karrde said stiffly. "I congratulate you on your amazing recovery."
The smile didn't even falter. "You're angry with me, of course," Car'das said calmly. "I understand that. But it'll all become clear soon. In the meantime—"
He half turned and waved at the back wall; and abruptly the wall was no longer there. In its place was a long tunnel equipped with four guiderails that faded off into the distance. Just beyond where the wall had been, an enclosed quadrail car was waiting. "Let me take you across to my real home," Car'das continued. "It's much more comfortable than this place." He waved a hand toward the car, and a side door swung invitingly open in response. "Please; after you."
Karrde looked at the open door, an odd tightness squeezing his heart. Predators playing with their prey... "Why don't just you and I go?" he offered instead. "Shada and Threepio can return to the Wild Karrde—"
"No," Shada cut him off firmly. "You want to show someone around, Car'das, you take me. Then if— if—I decide it's safe, I'll consider letting Karrde join us."
"Really," Car'das said, regarding her with such obvious amusement that Karrde found himself cringing. Being amused at someone like Shada wasn't an especially healthy thing to do. "Such quick and short-tempered loyalty you inspire in your people, Karrde."
"She's not one of my people," Karrde told him quickly. "She was asked to come along by High Councilor Leia Organa Solo of the New Republic. She has absolutely nothing to do with me, or with anything I might have done in the past—"
"Please," Car'das interrupted, holding up a hand. "I admit this is highly entertaining to watch. But in all seriousness, you're both worrying about nothing."
He looked Karrde straight in the eye. "I'm not the man you once knew, Talon," he said quietly.
"Please give me the chance to prove that."
Karrde let his eyes drift away from that unblinking gaze. Predators playing with their prey... But if Car'das truly wanted them dead, it didn't really matter whether they played along or not.
"All right," he said. "Come on, Shada."
"Excuse me, sir?" Threepio spoke up hesitantly. "I presume you won't be needing me any further?"
"No, no, please," Car'das said, waving the droid forward. "I'd love to sit down later and have a chat with you—it's been such a long time since I've had anyone I could speak Old Tarmidian with." He smiled over at Entoo Nee. "Entoo Nee tries, but it's not the same."
"Not really, no," Entoo Nee conceded regretfully.
"So please join us," Car'das added to Threepio. "By the way, you don't also happen to know the Cincher dialectory, do you?"
Threepio seemed to brighten. "Of course I do, sir," he said, pride temporarily superseding nervousness. "I am fluent in over six million—"
"Excellent," Car'das said. "Let's be going, then."
A minute later they were all in the quadrail car, speeding smoothly down the tunnel. "I mostly keep to myself these days," Car'das commented, "but occasionally I still need to deal with Exocron officialdom. I use that house back there for such meetings. It's convenient and keeps them from being overawed by my real home."
"They know who you are?" Shada asked, her tone just short of a demand. "I mean, who you really are?"
Car'das shrugged. "They have bits and pieces of my past," he said. "But as you'll soon see, much of that history is now irrelevant."
"Well, before we get to history, let's try some current events," Shada said. "Starting with these Aing-Tii monks of yours. David can spin his anti-slaver slant all he wants, but we all know there's more to it than that. You called them in, didn't you?"
"The Aing-Tii and I have had some dealings together," Car'das agreed soberly, his wrinkled face thoughtful. Abruptly he smiled. "But that's history again, isn't it? All in its proper time."
"Fine," Shada said. "Let's try again. David says you didn't use us to lure Rei'Kas in. I say you did."
Car'das looked at Karrde. "I like her, Talon," he declared. "She has a fine spirit." He shifted his eyes to Shada. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in a new job, would you?"
"I wasted a dozen years with a smuggling gang, Car'das," Shada growled. "I'm not interested in joining another."
"Ah," he said with a nod. "Forgive me. Here we are." The tunnel had come to an
end in a small, well-lighted room. Car'das popped the door and bounded out as the quadrail slid smoothly to a stop. "Come, come," he urged the others. "You're going to love this place, Talon, you really are. All ready? Let's go." Almost bouncing with childlike anticipation, he led the way to an archway-topped door. He waved his hand as he approached; and as the wall at the blue house had done, the door simply vanished.
And stretched out beyond the doorway was a dream world.
Karrde stepped through, his first impression being that they had stepped out into the open air into a meticulously tended garden. Directly in front of them was a wide expanse of flowers and small plants and shrubs, all carefully and artistically arranged, stretching for perhaps a hundred meters ahead of them. A winding path led through the garden, with stone benches set at various points along it. At its side edges the garden gave way to a forest of tall trees of dozens of different species, with leaves whose colors varied from dark blue to brilliant red. From somewhere within the forest came the bubbling sound of water running over a rock-bottomed creek, but from their position he couldn't see where it was.
It wasn't until he followed the tallest trees up to their tops that he spotted the sky-blue dome above them. A dome that flowed down into unobtrusive walls behind the stands of trees...
"Yes, it's all inside," Car'das confirmed. "Very much inside, in fact—we're under one of the mountains to the east of Rintatta City. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"You tend it yourself?" Karrde asked.
"I do most of the work," Car'das said, starting forward toward the path. "But there are a few others, as well. This way."
He led them through the garden to a concealed door between two red-trunked trees on the far side. "Must have been some job putting all this together," Shada commented as the door again vanished at a wave of Car'das's hand. "Your Aing-Tii friends help?"
"In an indirect way, yes," Car'das said. "This is my conversation room. As beautiful as the garden, in its own way."
"Yes," Karrde agreed, looking around. The conversation room was laid out in more or less classic High Alderaanian style, done up in dark wood and intertwined plants, with the same feeling of expansiveness as the garden outside. "What did you mean by indirect help?"
