Star Wars: The Hand of Thrawn II: Vision of the Future

by Timothy Zahn

  I see no danger, the young Qom Qae protested. But he nevertheless obediently swooped to a landing on a stalagmite near the opening. What is the danger?

  “We’re about to find out,” Luke told him, getting a grip on his lightsaber and easing toward the cavern. “Mara?”

  “Right behind you,” she said. “Want me to handle the lights?”

  “Please,” Luke said, handing his glow rod over his shoulder to her. Stretching out with all his senses, he stepped into the opening.

  For a long minute he stood there motionlessly, studying the terrain as Mara swept the beams from the glow rods slowly around. The chamber was impressively large and high-ceilinged, with a handful of shallow channels conducting rippling streams of water across the otherwise more or less flat floor. There were none of the stalagmites and stalactites they’d had to put up with through the rest of the cave system, but the lower wall areas were pockmarked with dozens of half-meter-diameter holes that seemed to extend deeply back into the rock. The whole chamber—walls, ceiling, floor, even the creek beds—was covered with what looked to be a thick coating of a white mosslike substance. At the far side, the chamber again shrank down to a tunnel like the one they were standing in.

  “There must be openings to the surface,” Mara said quietly, her breath a momentary warmth on the back of his neck. “No light, but you can feel the air moving. And there’s water, too.”

  “Yes,” Luke murmured. Air, water, and a plant base—even a moss one—meant there could be a complete ecology down here.

  An ecology that might well include predators …

  “You want to offer it a ration bar?” Mara suggested.

  “Let’s try a rock first,” Luke said, stooping down to pick up a fist-sized stone. He threw it out toward the center of the chamber; and as it arced toward the floor, he caught it in a Force grip and twisted it sharply to the side—

  And abruptly something snapped out from one of the walls and back again.

  And in that movement, the stone vanished.

  “Whoa!” Luke said, looking over at that part of the wall as Mara swung the glow rods that direction. “Did you see where that came from?”

  “Somewhere over there, I think,” Mara said. “It went by too fast—there. See it?”

  Luke nodded. From one of the deep holes in the wall, a brief cascade of gravel dribbled silently out down the white moss. There was some movement from the moss as the gravel passed, then it settled down again and the chamber was again silent and still.

  “I guess it doesn’t like rocks,” Mara commented.

  “We should have gone with the ration bar,” Luke agreed, reaching out to the Force and replaying his short-term memory. It didn’t help; the grab had been just too fast. “Could you see what it was?”

  “Some kind of tongue or tentacle, I’d guess,” Mara said. “The main part of the creature is probably inside that hole.”

  “And he’s probably not alone,” Luke said, eyeing the other holes around the chamber. “Any suggestions?”

  “Well, for starters, we’re going to need a closer look at one of them,” Mara said. “You picking up any sentience in there?”

  Luke stretched out into the chamber with the Force. “No,” he told her. “Nothing.”

  “So they’re simple predator animals, then,” she said, squeezing into the opening beside him and handing him the glow rods. “That helps. Get out of the way, will you?”

  “What are you going to do?” Luke asked, frowning, as she pulled out her lightsaber and ignited it.

  “Like I said: get a closer look,” she said. Holding the lightsaber out in front of her, she caught it with a Force grip and started it spinning slowly. Still spinning, it floated off to their left, keeping close in to the wall. It approached one of the holes …

  And with a flash of light and the multiple crunch of shattered rock, it vanished into the hole.

  Mara Jade! Child Of Wings gasped. Your weapon-claw—

  “It’s all right,” Luke calmed him. He kept his eyes on the hole, not daring to look at Mara. If she’d miscalculated …

  And then, with a second loud crumbling of rock, a long sluglike creature sagged out of the hole, covered with pink blood still oozing from a half-dozen deep cuts across its body. Moving in an almost grotesque slow-motion, it slid down the mossy wall and came to a stop against a stone on the ground. A coiled tongue rolled loosely out of the slack mouth, followed by Mara’s lightsaber.

  There was a gasp from one of the Qom Jha. So that is what they are like, Keeper Of Promises said.

  “You hadn’t seen one before?” Luke asked.

  No, the Qom Jha replied. We did not encounter them until thirty seasons ago.

  Luke cocked an eyebrow. “Really. Weren’t they here before that, or had you just not run into them?”

  I cannot properly answer that question, Keeper Of Promises said. Only rarely have the Qom Jha ever come into this part of the cavern.

  “Trouble?” Mara asked as she reached out with the Force to retrieve her lightsaber.

  “There seems to be some question as to whether this room was like this up until thirty years ago,” Luke told her.

  “Interesting,” Mara said, looking at her now bloodied lightsaber with distaste. Easing it around the corner into the chamber, she wiped it off on an edge of the white moss. “Could be someone moved into the High Tower about then and wanted to discourage casual tourism.”

  “That’s one possibility,” Luke agreed.

  “Well, I did mine,” Mara said, inspecting her lightsaber again. “You can do the next—what, about thirty of them?”

  “About that,” Luke confirmed, doing a quick estimate of the number of holes in the cavern’s walls. “You think they might be smart enough to realize we’re too big to eat?”

  “I’d hate to count on it,” Mara said. “There’s more than enough speed and muscle behind those tongues to break bone.”

  “Agreed,” Luke said. “I don’t suppose there would be any path across that would be out of their range.”

  “Wouldn’t want to count on that, either,” Mara said. “Anyway, it seems straightforward enough. We hug one wall and slice up each of them from the side as we get to it.”

  Luke grimaced. Straightforward enough, certainly, but rather bloody. The creatures were nonsentient, of course, and it was vitally important that he and Mara get past them. But he still didn’t relish the idea of so much wholesale slaughter.

  But maybe there was another way. “Keeper Of Promises, you’ve obviously run into these things before,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “What do they eat?”

  Keeper Of Promises fluttered his wings. There are migrations of insects at the beginning and closing of each season.

  “Hmm?” Mara asked.

  “Migrating insects,” Luke translated.

  “Ah,” Mara said. “Except when they can get fresh Qom Jha, I suppose.”

  Splitter Of Stones ruffled his wings warningly. Do not be insulting, Jaded Of Mara.

  “Of course, that doesn’t explain what they’re eating right now,” Mara went on. “Not much in the way of insects down here at the moment.”

  “At least not any visible ones,” Luke said. Closing down his lightsaber, he eased into the chamber, keeping close to the wall. Extending his lightsaber handle out as far as he could, he gave the moss a sharp whack.

  There was a sudden rumbling buzz; and abruptly a dozen large insects burst from unseen cavities in the moss, flying off madly across the chamber in all directions.

  They didn’t get very far. As suddenly as the insects had appeared there was a flurry of snapping tongues, and a moment later the chamber again settled down into silence.

  Behind Luke, Artoo gurgled nervously. “Interesting,” Mara commented. “That moss layer must be thicker than it looks.” She eyed Luke. “I hope you’re not going to suggest we beat the walls and try to sneak across while the feeding frenzy is going on.”

  “You’re half right,
” Luke said, igniting his lightsaber and again stepping into the chamber. Easing the glowing blade tip into the moss, he carefully cut a meter-wide square of the material out of the general expanse. He closed down the weapon and returned it to his belt, got a good grip on the edges, and pulled.

  With an oddly discomfiting tearing sound, a fifteen-centimeter-thick patch came away. Luke caught it across his forearms, trying to hold it more or less together, wincing at the sight of a hundred suddenly disturbed grubs scurrying across the surface or burrowing back into the moss.

  “Lovely,” Mara said, coming to his side. “And now it’s feeding time?”

  “That’s the plan,” Luke said, easing over toward the next hole in line and lobbing the patch in front of it. The tongue snapped out, and in a flurry of moss dust the patch vanished.

  “Let’s see if it worked,” Mara said, stepping past Luke and stretching her lightsaber blade in front of the hole.

  Nothing happened. “Looks good,” she decided. “Better get the droid past while he’s still chewing.”

  “Right,” Luke said, turning and getting a Force grip on Artoo. “Child Of Winds, Qom Jha—let’s go.”

  A minute later they were all on the far side of the lair. “Well, I’m impressed,” Mara declared, easing out of her guard stance to join them.

  “And it didn’t require us to kill,” Luke pointed out, igniting his lightsaber and stepping over toward the next predator lair.

  “Except a bunch of insects,” Mara said. “You have a problem with insects, by the way?”

  He thought he’d been hiding it better than that “They remind me of those droch things, that’s all. No problem.”

  “Ah,” Mara said, closing down her lightsaber and stepping around behind Luke. “Tell you what: you cut and I’ll peel. Okay?”

  Two hours later, they finally stopped for the night.

  “At least, I think it’s night,” Luke said, frowning at his chrono. “I just realized I never got around to changing this thing to local time.”

  “It’s night,” Mara assured him, leaning thankfully back against her chosen rock and closing her eyes. Later, she knew, she would pay for this with numerous aches and pains from the dampness and sharp edges. But at the moment it felt immensely good. “Night is defined as time for all good little boys and girls to go to sleep. Therefore, it is definitely night.”

  “I suppose so,” Luke said.

  Mara opened her eyes and peered across at him. There had been a flicker of something in his emotions just then. “No?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No, you’re right,” he conceded, a bit reluctantly. “We need to sleep.”

  Instead of what? Mara stretched out with the Force, trying to read deeper into his mind. But the way was blocked, with nothing she could detect except a barrier of uncertainty tinged with—

  She frowned. Embarrassment? Was that really what she was getting?

  It was. And for the great Jedi Master Luke Skywalker to even have such an emotion was definitely evidence of progress.

  And given that, the last thing she wanted to do was make it easy for him. When he was finally willing to crack his shell far enough to ask her about her relationship with Lando, she would tell him. Not before.

  And maybe by that time he would be able to hear the other, more troubling things she had to say to him.

  Maybe.

  CHAPTER

  11

  “So that’s it, huh?” Wedge asked, leaning nonchalantly against one of the old-style Bothan lampposts that lined the park and gazing across the open expanse at the gleaming white dome in the center.

  “That’s it,” Corran confirmed, frowning at his datapad. “At least, according to this it is.”

  Wedge shifted his gaze to the periphery of the park, to the encircling street and the shops with their colorful trade flags that lined it. It was apparently market day, and hundreds of Bothan and alien pedestrians were milling through the area. “They must be nuts,” he told Corran. “Putting a target like that—”

  He broke off as a couple of Duros brushed past him and headed off at an angle across the park. “In a public area,” he continued in a lower tone, “is just begging for trouble.”

  “On the other hand, having a pole of your planetary shield array inside your capital city pretty much guarantees the safety of that city,” Corran pointed out. “That’s going to be comforting to all the offworlders who do business here.”

  “The Bothans always have been big on image,” Wedge conceded sourly.

  Even so, he had to admit the place wasn’t nearly as vulnerable as it looked. According to the data Bel Iblis had pulled for them, the dome was constructed of a special permasteel alloy, had no windows and only one door, and was filled with armed guards and automated defenses. The shield generator equipment itself was two floors underground, with a self-contained backup power supply, a room full of spare parts, and a cadre of on-duty techs who could allegedly take the entire system apart and put it back together again in two hours flat.

  “True; but image apart, they’ve also never been slouches at guarding their own rear ends,” Corran pointed out. “They’ll have safeguards seven ways from—”

  He stopped as a group of Bothans, chattering animatedly to each other, pushed their way between the two humans. A pair of stragglers following the main group were even more self-absorbed; one of them ran straight into Wedge, nearly knocking him over.

  “My entire clan’s apologies, sir,” he gasped, his fur rippling with shame and embarrassment as he backed rapidly away directly toward Corran. Corran tried to sidestep, but the Bothan was already moving too fast and slammed into him, too.

  “You clumsy fool,” the second Bothan berated him, grabbing Corran’s arm to help him regain his balance. “You will indebt our entire clan to the sun-death of Bothawui. Our greatest apologies, kind sirs. Are either of you injured?”

  “No, we’re fine,” Wedge assured him. He glanced at Corran for confirmation, caught just the hint of a frown creasing the other’s forehead. “On second thought—”

  “Excellent, excellent,” the Bothan continued, clearly not really interested in the answer to his question as he took his companion’s arm and steered them both toward the shops. “A fine and friendsome day to you, then, fine sirs.”

  Wedge moved close to Corran’s side, watching as the two Bothans nearly ran down an old human woman at the edge of the crowd and then vanished into the general pedestrian flow. “What’s the matter?” he murmured. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” Corran said slowly, his frown deepening. “There was just something that felt wrong about—”

  Abruptly, he slapped at his tunic, his frown exploding into a look of utter consternation. “Droyk! He took my wallet!”

  “What?” Wedge snapped, grabbing for his own pocket.

  And finding it empty. “Oh, sh—”

  “Come on,” Corran bit out, diving into the crowd.

  “I don’t believe this,” Wedge snarled, diving in after him. “How in space did they pull that off?”

  “I don’t know,” Corran called over his shoulder, shoving one pedestrian after another aside. “I would have sworn I knew all the tricks. I don’t suppose you happened to notice the clan sigil they were wearing?”

  “I saw it, but I didn’t recognize it,” Wedge told him, feeling like a complete and blithering fool. Everything they had—money, credit chits, and both their civilian and military IDs—were in those wallets. “The general’s going to kill us if we don’t get them back.”

  “Yeah—one at a time and very slowly,” Corran agreed darkly. He shouldered his way through one last clump of pedestrians into a temporarily open spot on the walkway and stopped. “Anything?” he asked, craning his neck to look over the crowds.

  “Nothing,” Wedge said, looking around and wondering what in the name of Ackbar’s aunt they were going to do now. The Bothan government didn’t know they were here, and would probably be furious if they found out. Ditto f
or any New Republic officials. “I don’t suppose you might be able to, ah—?”

  “If I couldn’t pick up anything when they were right next to me, I’m not likely to be able to do it at this distance,” Corran said, sounding thoroughly disgusted with himself. “I hope you’ve got a backup plan ready.”

  “I thought you brought it,” Wedge countered glumly. Unfortunately, about all they could do now was get back on their shuttle and rejoin the Peregrine at Ord Trasi.

  General Bel Iblis, it was rumored, had an awesome repertoire of Corellian invective that only came to the surface when he was absolutely furious. Wedge himself had never personally been able to confirm the rumor. It seemed likely he would soon have the chance to do so. “You’re never going to live this one down with Mirax,” he warned with a sigh.

  “Right—like you’re going to be able to live it down with Iella,” Corran growled back.

  “Hey, there, my fine young boys. Join me for a drink?”

  Wedge turned, to find an old woman with bright eyes standing beside him. “What?”

  “I asked you to join me for a drink,” she repeated. “It’s such a warm day, and all that bright sunlight is hard on old eyes like mine.”

  “Sorry, but we’re a little busy right now,” Corran said brusquely, standing on tiptoe to peer again over the crowd.

  “You young people,” the woman said reproachfully. “Always too busy to sit down and enjoy life. Too busy to listen to the wisdom of the aged.”

  Wedge grimaced, turning his attention back to the crowd and hoping the old fool would take the hint. What she was doing ore-digging on the streets of Drev’stara in the first place he couldn’t imagine. “Look, ma’am, I’m sorry—”

  “But too busy to share a drink with a lonely old lady?” she went on, her voice turning sorrowful. “That’s just plain scandalous. Especially when the lonely old lady is buying.”

  Wedge looked back, searching for a firm yet polite way to get her off his back. “Look, ma’am—”

  And paused. Her hand had come up now and was holding two items up for his inspection. Two small, black folders.