Star Wars_Thrawn

by Timothy Zahn

  “Is it serious?”

  “She says no,” Talmoor said. “But we’re going anyway. Come on, Mattai.”

  “Wait a minute—I need to find my friend,” Gudry objected. “Can’t I stay? I promise I won’t get in anyone’s way.”

  “I don’t think—” Talmoor began.

  “That’s a good idea,” Arihnda interrupted him. “You can find your way back to the house, right?”

  “Sure,” Gudry said. “You two go on. I’ll be fine.”

  “I can’t let you stay without me,” Talmoor said. But the words were mechanical. His thoughts were clearly with his wife. “I promised—”

  “Let me talk to him,” Arihnda offered. Without waiting for a response, she took Gudry’s arm and pulled him a few steps away.

  “Well, this is damn awkward,” Gudry whispered. “The old cow gets sick now?”

  “You can do this alone, right?” Arihnda asked, trying hard to ignore the fact he’d just insulted her mother.

  “Of course,” he growled. “Trouble is, your old man won’t let me.”

  “I’ll change his mind,” Arihnda said. “That last speeder truck, the one with the Makrid String crates? You’ll want to find out where it went. Makrid String is a—”

  “Is a wire explosive,” he interrupted. “Thanks, I know. I’m more worried about Nightswan’s collection of police gunships and skim fighters.”

  Arihnda felt her jaw drop. “You saw gunships? How many?”

  “I didn’t see them,” Gudry said patiently. “I saw a spare parts dump, with enough material to patch up a couple dozen of them.”

  Arihnda winced. Air combat vehicles. Just what they needed. “You need to find and tag them,” she said. “And—”

  “Yeah, thanks, I know my job,” he said. “You just get your old man off my back and out of here, okay?”

  “Okay.” Still holding his arm, she turned back to her father. “Okay, we’ve made a deal,” she told him. “You and I will go home and see to Mother. He’ll stay for one hour—one hour—and look for his friend. If he hasn’t found him by then, he’ll come out. Okay?”

  Talmoor hesitated, his face screwed up with indecision. “Arihnda—”

  “It’ll be all right, Father,” Arihnda said, letting go of Gudry’s arm and taking her father’s. “He’ll be fine, and Mother needs us. Come on. Come on.”

  “All right,” Talmoor said reluctantly as he allowed her to pull him back toward the perimeter. “Just be careful, Mattai. And don’t mess with anything.”

  With her father distracted by worry, it was easy to guide him back out through a different checkpoint, one where the guards didn’t know that three had gone in but only two were coming out. Fortunately, the men and women at this point, too, knew Foreman Talmoor Pryce, and didn’t search or even question him.

  How many of them, Arihnda wondered, would still be alive when morning came?

  But that wasn’t her problem. These people were in the center of a combat zone, they’d willingly placed themselves here, and what happened next was on their own heads. That went for Gudry, too.

  As for Arihnda, she had a more important task before her. The job she’d planned from the very beginning of this standoff. The one only she could pull off.

  Time to get started.

  An enemy will almost never be anything except an enemy. All one can do with an enemy is defeat him.

  But an adversary can sometimes become an ally.

  There is a cost, of course. In all things in life there is a cost. In dealing with an adversary, sometimes the cost is paid in power or position. Sometimes it is paid in pride or prestige.

  Sometimes the cost is greater. Sometimes the risk is one’s future, or even one’s life.

  But in all such situations, the calculation is straightforward: whether or not the potential gain is worth the potential loss.

  And the warrior must never forget that he and his adversary are not the only ones in that equation. Sometimes, all the universe may hang in the balance.

  —

  Nightswan was waiting at the appointed place when Thrawn arrived. “I understood you would wait until my arrival,” Thrawn said.

  “I got bored,” Nightswan said. His voice holds a casual dark humor. His body stance holds tension but also weariness. His facial heat is heightened with a low level of caution. “Besides, I was curious to see if you’d told me the truth.” He gestured toward the stars above them. “Even now you could kill me and there would be nothing I could do to stop you.”

  “You are no use to me dead or captured.”

  “So you said,” Nightswan said. “I assume you’re calling on me to surrender, and to persuade my followers to surrender as well?”

  “Interesting that you should call them followers,” Thrawn said. “When we first met, you were merely a consultant. You hired out your tactical skill to those who would pay, without thought of consequences.”

  “You make me sound quite the amoral mercenary,” Nightswan said. His voice holds acceptance and agreement. His body stance holds tension, but also a subtle admission that the assessment is accurate. “But you’re mostly correct. Though I’d like to point out that I did save your life during the Dromedar hijacking.”

  “How so?”

  “I persuaded Angel to take that buzz droid back aboard his ship with you and the other prisoners,” Nightswan said. “I was pretty sure you had something in mind for it, and I wanted it to be available to you.”

  “Why?”

  Nightswan shrugged. “I’d told him to deliver all of you to the drop point. But I suspected he was going to kill at least you and the other Imperials. I couldn’t stop him on my own, so I had to hope you were clever enough to survive if you had the tools. Hence, the droid.”

  “Thank you,” Thrawn said. “Allow me to point out in turn that, had you not, I had a second droid already moored to the hull.”

  “Ah. Of course you did.” Nightswan’s smile holds irony. “So much for playing the card of appealing to your sense of obligation.”

  “I find obligations are not a stable basis for a relationship,” Thrawn said. “Perhaps it is different in the Mining Guild.”

  Nightswan’s eyes widen. “Not really,” he said. His tone holds disbelief and rising fear. His arm muscles tense as his body stance shifts to an escape posture. “How did you know?”

  “You knew mining and metals,” Thrawn said. “You noticed the disappearance of doonium more quickly than was likely for one not familiar with metals and the metal marketplace. You also spoke of the Thrugii asteroid belt to Commander Vanto, which supports many Mining Guild operations.”

  “I knew that was a mistake the minute I said it,” Nightswan said. He shakes his head, his body stance relaxing from escape mode to acceptance of defeat. “So how much do you know?”

  “I know that a group observed the rising confusion in the Empire’s metal markets and broke from the guild in an attempt to manipulate that confusion for their own gain. I know that several members subsequently left and went their separate ways. I presume you were one of those.”

  “Yes.” Nightswan’s expression now holds a cautious calmness. “The chaos in metal prices was hurting a lot of small businesses, shipbuilders in particular. I joined the group hoping we could siphon off enough from the navy’s demands to help them out.” His lips compress, his expression holding frustration and a brief flash of anger. His facial heat rises briefly, then subsides. “When I discovered they were simply selling our stolen metals back to the Empire through the black market, I left.”

  “And joined instead with insurgents?”

  “Not then,” Nightswan said. “Not until much later. Most of the people I worked with at first were just ordinary citizens who’d been hurt by the Empire and couldn’t get any redress. Justice costs money, and stealing and smuggling metals like doonium was the most efficient way to generate that money.”

  “Doonium and tibanna gas?”

  Nightswan smiled. “I wish I could ha
ve seen your expression when you found out I’d pulled that one off. Part of that one, anyway.” His expression and body stance hold memory and thoughtfulness. “Come to think of it, that was probably the first time I worked directly with an insurgent group. The first time I knew I was working with one, anyway. Ground-based, though, with no ships, or I wouldn’t have had to hire Angel and his Culoss crazies.”

  “They will not bother the galaxy ever again.”

  “Yes, I heard,” Nightswan said. “After that…I don’t know. For a while I straddled the line, still mostly just helping out innocents but also working with occasional insurgents when they popped up. I thought about going back to the Mining Guild, but by then they’d gotten wise to the group I’d left with and turned the Empire loose on them. You can guess the result.” He smiled. “Or don’t have to guess because you already know.”

  “I do,” Thrawn confirmed. “So you no longer had anyone to turn to but insurgents?”

  “Oh, I could have made a comfortable life for myself without them.” Nightswan purses his lips, his expression holding sudden dread. “But then I started hearing rumors. Stories about something nasty the Empire was up to out in the middle of nowhere. The project that was sucking up all the doonium, iridium, and other metals that they were yanking out of the markets. I heard about whole planets being strip-mined. The old Thrugii facilities I used to work are still officially under Kanauer Corporation control but are now effectively an Imperial operation. I started getting curious.” His lips compress. His expression holds regret. “Sometimes it’s a very bad thing to be curious.”

  “It is never wrong to be curious. But it can sometimes be dangerous. This project you seek. Do you wish to stop it?”

  Nightswan frowns, his expression and body stance holding suspicion. His facial heat again rises. “Why? Are you in charge of protecting it?”

  “No.”

  “You probably should be.” His suspicion is fading. “If they really want to protect it, that is. Would I stop it? I don’t know. I suppose I’d first need to know what it is, so I could judge whether or not it’s worth all the chaos it’s causing. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I, too, am interested in the project. I would like to hear what you have learned.”

  “Sure.” Nightswan waves a hand toward Creekpath. His expression holds sardonic humor. “Take off that uniform, come join us, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “You know I cannot do that.”

  “And I can’t give up information that someday might be vital to these people,” Nightswan said. “Obligations, you know.”

  “Yet you also have a higher obligation to greater ideals,” Thrawn said. “Tell me about Cyphar.”

  “Cyphar?” Nightswan’s frown holds surprise. “What about it?”

  “You claim obligation to the people of Creekpath,” Thrawn said. “The money you would have obtained from the Cyphar pre-spice smuggling operation would have purchased weapons and supplies for them. Yet you deliberately used the same seashell technique I had seen before in the hope that I would notice and destroy the operation.”

  Nightswan shakes his head. His expression holds both resignation and admiration. His arm muscles relax, indicating he no longer expects combat on any level. “Sometimes I forget how good you are,” he said. “Other times, I’m glad of it. You’re right, I set that one up hoping you’d bring it to a crashing halt. I’ve seen what spice does to people, and I wanted no part of it.”

  “Yet you worked with them.”

  “Under false pretenses.” His voice holds bitterness. “They told me they were being squeezed between the Afes and the Cyphar government and couldn’t get the Empire to pay attention to them. By the time I found out what they were really smuggling I was already on the ground and couldn’t bow out without risking a blaster shot to the head.”

  “You could have alerted the authorities.”

  “Who might or might not have done anything.” Nightswan’s smile holds dark humor. “Besides, I had a reputation to maintain. No, my best hope was that you would notice it and deal with it. And you did.”

  “As I also dealt with Higher Skies on Coruscant,” Thrawn said.

  Nightswan holds up his hands, palms outward. His body stance holds caution and protest. His face holds a mix of anger and contempt. “Whatever you think you know about Higher Skies, believe me when I say that assassinations or attempted assassinations were never part of the plan. The sole reason they were suborning bodyguards was to gain access to high-level files for data on the Empire’s secret project.”

  “Did you learn anything?”

  “We learned plenty,” Nightswan said. His expression holds determination. “We learned that Grand Moff Tarkin’s involved at the top, for one thing. We learned the work is being done at a single location, as opposed to being spread out all across the galaxy.”

  “Not entirely correct,” Thrawn said. “There is a main work site, but there is also a subsidiary one.”

  “Really?” Nightswan frowned. “Interesting. I don’t usually miss things like that.”

  “An excusable error,” Thrawn said. “Most of the materials for the subsidiary location were delivered some time ago, with only small additions since then. As I say, the main work site is absorbing the bulk of the current shipments.”

  “Thanks, that makes me feel a little better.” Nightswan’s voice holds dry humor. “Still, it sounds like we’re talking a single main structure or interwoven structure, rather than a group of large ships or battle stations. Otherwise, it would be safer to split off the ships to different locations.”

  “I agree.”

  “And I’m getting close. Another few weeks…” He stops, the determination fading again into weariness. “But I don’t have a few weeks, do I?”

  “That decision is still yours.”

  “Is it?” Nightswan shakes his head. The weariness spreads from his face to his full body stance. “These people have attached themselves to me, Admiral. I can’t turn my back on them.”

  “I see,” Thrawn said. “I have always known that you were a master tactician. I see now that you are also a leader.”

  “Am I?” His expression holds bitterness. “Let me tell you a secret. At one point I had a grand plan for bringing all these insurgent and rebel groups together under one roof.”

  “What stopped you?”

  “Paranoia,” he said. “Distrust. Squabbling. Pride.” Again, he shakes his head. “I don’t know if anyone will ever bring them all together. I just know I couldn’t. So much for my leadership skills.” He gestures to Thrawn, his expression holding an edge of confusion. “What I don’t understand is why you still serve the Empire. Can’t you see the evil you’re helping to perpetuate?”

  The lights of the mining complex behind Nightswan shone faintly against the low scattered clouds. Thousands of people waited there, preparing for the inevitable Imperial attack. “I’ll give you a scenario,” Thrawn said. “You and I face a dangerous predator intent on slaughter. Running is impossible; tools and weapons are limited. What are your options?”

  “The obvious one is for us to join forces,” Nightswan said. His voice holds hesitation and thoughtfulness. “But you’re clearly going for something else.”

  “Not necessarily,” Thrawn said. “Unity against the common foe is one choice. But there is another.”

  “Which is?”

  “You already know,” Thrawn said. “You strike me down so as to make me the easier prey. While the predator devours me, you hope to find or build a weapon you can use to assure your own survival.”

  “Logical,” Nightswan said. His tone holds quiet revulsion. His body stance indicates a desire to back away from such a thought. “Cold-blooded, but logical. Your point?”

  “My point,” Thrawn said, “is that it was that choice that lay before me when I decided to visit the Empire.”

  Nightswan frowned. “The story I heard was that you were rescued from exile.”

  “I was unawar
e that knowledge had been released to the general public.”

  “It wasn’t.” Nightswan’s smile holds wry humor. “I had to do some serious digging to find it. As I had to dig to find the records of your time at Royal Imperial Academy, as well as all the other details of your career.”

  “I am honored you found me worth such dedication.”

  Nightswan shrugs. “To defeat an enemy, you must know them. Not that I’ve defeated you very often, but you’ve always been a fascinating study. Now you tell me you weren’t exiled?”

  “It was intended to so appear. But that was not the reality.”

  Nightswan smiles faintly. His expression holds anticipation. “Tell me this reality.”

  “I was exploring the edges of the new Empire shortly after the Clone War. I had witnessed a small part of that conflict, and had seen the chaos the collapse of the Republic had created throughout the region.”

  “There are theories that both the conflict and collapse were engineered by outside agents.”

  “The causes do not alter the fact that the Republic was unstable,” Thrawn said. “There were too many different points of view. Too many different styles of political thought and action. The system was by its nature sluggish and inefficient.”

  “And you found the Empire to be the opposite?”

  “At the time I knew little about the Empire,” Thrawn said. “But during one of my surveys I discovered a colony of refugee Neimoidians. Once they learned who I represented, they pleaded with me to bring the Chiss to battle against Coruscant. They promised their people would rise up in response, and that together we would bring down Emperor Palpatine and restore the Republic.”

  “I hope you didn’t accept their offer.” Nightswan’s tone and expression hold contempt. “The Neimoidians have a severely overblown opinion of themselves and their capabilities.”

  “I certainly did not trust their unsupported word. Nor did I make any promises. But my superiors were nevertheless concerned by my report.”

  “Because of the Empire? Or because of the Neimoidians?”