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

by Timothy Zahn

  “A phrase, right,” she said, inhaling deeply, a strangely cautious mood touching her mind. “Okay. See if you can handle this one …”

  She told him, and he smiled. “Got it,” he said, and stretched out with the Force.

  A minute later she was fast asleep in his arms. “You go first, Artoo,” Luke told the droid, lifting him up with the Force and easing him over the railing. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  The droid warbled; and then he was in the water, his dome bobbing above the waves as he was swept toward the tunnel. Wrapping his arms protectively around Mara, Luke jumped in behind him. The current grabbed them, pushing them along behind the bobbing droid as Luke struggled to keep their heads above water. The wall and the top of the tunnel archway loomed ahead; and just before they reached it, Luke took a deep breath and pulled them both under the surface.

  The rest of the trip was a blur of dizzying speed, continual buffeting of the water, near-collisions with smooth walls and rough stone, aching eyes and lungs. Through his half trance Luke was vaguely aware of where they left the tunnel and entered the underground room; was more sharply aware of where they slammed through the newly enlarged gap in the wall and the protective cortosis ore barrier as the turbulence threw them back and forth against the rock. The torrent dragged them, twisting and turning, through the caverns and tunnels they’d so laboriously picked their way through days earlier with Child Of Winds and the Qom Jha. Dimly through his slow asphyxiation, Luke decided it was just as well that they’d cut away so many of the stalactites and stalagmites that would have been in their way …

  Abruptly, he snapped awake, half submerged in water, his head and chest resting precariously on a slimy boulder, Artoo’s frantic twittering in his ears. “Okay, right,” he managed, shaking his head to clear it.

  And suddenly stiffened. Mara was gone.

  He shook his head again, digging out his glow rod with numb, half-frozen fingers as he scrabbled around looking for footing. He found it immediately; the water he was in turned out to be only waist high. He fumbled the glow rod out at last and flicked it on.

  He was standing in a pool just off the edge of the last of the underground rivers he and Mara had passed during their trip through the caverns. Five meters to his left, the torrent that had brought them here had vanished, leaving only the river rippling its sedate way along.

  And two meters to his right, bobbing gently in the pool as she floated beside the craggy rock, was Mara. Her eyes closed, her arms and legs limp. As if in death.

  The precise image he’d seen of her in that Jedi vision on Tierfon.

  And then he was at her side, raising her head out of the water, gazing at her face in sudden fear. If the trance hadn’t kept her alive—if she’d struck something hard enough to kill her after he’d lost his grip on her—

  Behind him, Artoo whistled impatiently. “Right,” Luke agreed, cutting off his sudden panic. All he had to do to bring her out of it was speak the key phrase she’d chosen, the phrase she’d wondered aloud if he could handle. Almost as if she was afraid he couldn’t …

  He took a deep breath. “I love you, Mara.”

  Her eyes blinked open, blinked again as she chased the water from them. “Hi,” she said, breathing heavily as she grabbed his arm and maneuvered herself upright “I see we made it.”

  “Yes,” Luke said, taking her in his arms and holding her tightly, his tension and fear evaporating into a mist of utter calm and relief. The vision had been passed, and Mara had survived it.

  And they were together again. Forever.

  “Yes,” Mara murmured. “Forever.”

  They loosened their grips on each other, just slightly … and standing together in the cold water, their lips came together in a kiss.

  It seemed like a long time before Mara gently pulled away from the embrace. “Not to put a damper on this,” she said, “but we’re both shivering, and we’re still a long way from home. Where are we, anyway?”

  “Back at our underground river,” Luke told her, reluctantly bringing his mind back to practical matters.

  “Ah.” She peered toward the stream. “What happened to our personal flood?”

  “It seems to have ended,” Luke said. “Either we drained the lake completely—”

  “Which is real unlikely.”

  “Right,” Luke said. “Or else it’s gotten stopped up again somehow.”

  “Probably more of the chamber wall collapsed,” Mara said, reaching up to push back some of the hair that had gotten plastered across her cheek. “Or else it’s jammed up with what’s left of the cloning equipment.”

  Luke nodded, helping her push the rest of her hair back out of the way. “Good thing we didn’t wait any longer to make our exit.”

  “Sure is,” Mara agreed. “Handy things, those Jedi hunches. You’ll have to teach me how to do those.”

  “We’ll work on it,” Luke promised, wading toward the edge of the pond. “I think the Qom Jha said this river emptied out into a small waterfall.”

  “Sounds good,” Mara said. “Let’s go find it.”

  Another wave of Skipray Blastboats shot past, pelting the Tyrannic with laser fire. Behind them, two of the Ishori war cruisers had gotten inside the kill zone and were scattering a dazzling pattern of more powerful turbolaser blasts across the ridgeline. “Two more starboard turbolasers knocked out,” the fire control officer called tensely. “Forward ridgeline has been breached; crews are sealing it off.”

  “Acknowledged,” Nalgol said, hearing his voice trembling with a frustrated and wholly impotent fury. It was unthinkable—unthinkable—that a fleet of three Imperial Star Destroyers should find themselves fighting for their survival against such a pitiful ragtag of aliens and alien-lovers.

  But that was exactly what they were doing. There were just too many of them to keep track of. Too many of them to fight.

  And with all his pride in his ship and his crew and his Empire, Nalgol was realist enough to know when the fight had become hopeless.

  “Signal to the Obliterator and Ironhand,” he ordered between clenched teeth. “Pull back and withdraw. Repeat: pull back and withdraw.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain,” the comm officer replied.

  “What heading, sir?” the helmsman called.

  “A short jump in any direction.” Nalgol glared out the viewport. “And after that, set course directly for Bastion. Grand Admiral Thrawn needs to hear about this.”

  And he would indeed hear about it, Nalgol promised himself silently. Yes, indeed. He would hear all about it.

  The waterfall exit was considerably less cozy than Luke had expected it to be, the hole possibly having been enlarged by the flood that had just forced its way through. There weren’t any footholds right at the mouth, but in the dim starlight Mara spotted a likely ledge about five meters to the left. Using the Force, Luke lifted first Mara, then Artoo, across the gap. Then, a bit more tentatively, Mara brought him across to join them.

  “Any idea what side of the fortress we’re on?” she asked, looking around the darkened landscape. “Or how much longer we’ve got until dawn?”

  “No, to both questions,” Luke said, stretching out with the Force. There was no danger nearby that he could detect. “Probably the far side; and probably not more than a couple more hours.”

  “We’d better use the time to get under cover,” she suggested, peering up at the cliff above them. “We don’t want to be out in the open when Parck sends out his search parties.”

  “I just hope he doesn’t find the ship we borrowed,” Luke said. “Aside from giving him back his quick access to Bastion, it would lose us our only way of getting out of here together.”

  “Well, if he does, you and Artoo will just have to take your X-wing and go for help,” Mara said.

  “You mean you and Artoo will go,” Luke said firmly. “I mean that, Mara. No argument this time—”

  Jedi Sky Walker?

  Luke looked up. Fluttering to a landing on
a boulder above them were a dozen dark shapes.

  And the tone and mind of one of them seemed very familiar. “Yes,” he said. “Is that you, Hunter Of Winds?”

  It is I, the Qom Qae confirmed. My son, Child Of Winds, informed all nearby nestings of your deeds this night. We have been watching for your return.

  “Thank you,” Luke said. “We very much appreciate your efforts. Can you show us to a place of shelter nearby? We need to hide from those in the High Tower until we can make our way back to our ship.”

  Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings. No need for shelter, Jedi Sky Walker, he said. We will carry you to your flying machine, as my son and his companions did earlier this night.

  Luke frowned. After Hunter Of Winds’s quick and cavalier dismissal of him and his mission when he and Artoo first landed, such magnanimity seemed suspiciously out of character. “You’re very kind,” he said carefully. “May I ask why you’re willing to take such risks for us?”

  Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings. I have spoken to the Bargainer for this nesting of the Qom Jha, he said. Eater Of Fire Creepers has agreed to release you from your promise to help us against the Threateners, provided you leave our world at once.

  Luke felt his face warming. “In other words, our presence here has become a liability to you?”

  Child Of Winds has said the Threateners will not harm us if we do not bother them, Hunter Of Winds said gruffly. It is to that end that we wish you to leave.

  “Nothing like being appreciated, is there?” Mara muttered.

  “It’s all right,” Luke said, touching her hand and her mind soothingly. Reminding her that, embarrassment and even veiled insult aside, this was in fact the result she herself had said she wanted. Parck and the Chiss would now be left alone, unharassed by the Qom Jha and Qom Qae, and free to focus their full energies on their work in the Unknown Regions.

  “Fine,” she said, and Luke could feel her grudging acceptance. “But he’s not Child Of Winds anymore. After what he’s been through, he deserves to have a name of his own.”

  Really, Hunter Of Winds said, giving her a long, thoughtful look. And what name do you suggest for him?

  “The one he’s earned,” she said softly. “ ‘Friend Of Jedi.’ ”

  Hunter Of Winds ruffled his wings again. I will consider it. But now, let us depart. The night grows old, and you will wish to be gone before the sunrise.

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Flim was saying as Karrde rounded the archway onto the Relentless’s bridge.

  “Yes,” Pellaeon said. “So will I.”

  The Admiral turned as Karrde stepped up beside him. “You’re late,” Pellaeon said mildly.

  “I was watching the turbolift,” Karrde explained. “I thought Flim and his associates might try to bring a squad of stormtroopers in on their side of the dispute.”

  “They might have, at that,” Pellaeon said. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Karrde assured him, looking around the bridge. The Major Tierce clone was lying unmoving on the deck, Shada was across with the other two Mistryl, the con man Flim was waiting with studied unconcern just back of the command walkway, and Moff Disra was a little off to one side, standing as aloof and cold and dignified as a man facing his own destruction could manage. “Besides, it doesn’t look like my presence was really needed.”

  “Not for this part, no,” Pellaeon agreed. “Your friend Shada is quite impressive. I don’t suppose she’d be interested in a job.”

  “Well, she is looking for a higher cause to serve,” Karrde told him. “However, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think the Empire is it.”

  Pellaeon nodded. “Perhaps we can change that.”

  “Admiral Pellaeon?” a voice called from the crew pits. “I have General Bel Iblis for you now.”

  “Thank you.” Pellaeon looked to Karrde. “Don’t run off—I’ll want to speak with you later.”

  “Certainly.”

  The Admiral headed down the command walkway, passing Flim without a second glance. Throwing one last look at Disra, Karrde crossed to where Shada and the other young Mistryl were helping the older woman to a sitting position. “How is she?” he asked.

  “Not as bad as we thought,” Shada said, probing gingerly into the scorched tunic. “She was able to twist almost out of the way of the shot.”

  “Well-honed reflexes.” Karrde nodded. “Once a Mistryl, always a Mistryl, I suppose.”

  The older woman eyed him balefully. “You’re very well informed,” she growled.

  “About a great many things,” Karrde agreed calmly. “Among them the fact that Shada seems to have earned your displeasure somehow.”

  “And what, you think this makes up for it?” the woman snapped contemptuously.

  “Doesn’t it?” Karrde countered. “If she hadn’t stopped Tierce when she did, you two would have been the next to die after Pellaeon. You were the most immediate threats to him.”

  She snorted. “I’m a Mistryl, Talon Karrde. My life is gladly given in the service of my people.”

  “Really.” Karrde looked at the younger woman. “Do you also consider your life not worth a little gratitude?”

  “Leave Karoly out of this,” the older woman bit out. “She has nothing to say on the matter.”

  “Ah,” Karrde said. “Soldiers with no voice or opinion. Remarkably similar to the philosophy of the Imperial stormtroopers.”

  “Karoly allowed Shada to escape once before,” the woman said, glowering at her. “She’s fortunate she wasn’t punished herself for that.”

  “Oh, yes,” Karrde murmured. “How very lucky for her.”

  The woman’s eyes flashed. “If you’ve quite finished—”

  “I haven’t,” Karrde said. “Clearly, you don’t consider Mistryl lives worth anything. What about Mistryl reputations?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Karrde waved toward Flim. “You were about to make an alliance with these people. You were about to be taken in by nothing more than slick talk, whipped air, and a dirt-level fringe con man. And don’t bother denying it; a member of the Eleven doesn’t travel off Emberlene just for the exercise.”

  The woman’s eyes drifted away from his gaze. “The issue was still under discussion,” she muttered.

  “Glad to hear it,” Karrde said. “Because if even your reputation doesn’t matter to you, consider what binding the Mistryl to a vengeful man like Moff Disra would have meant. How long do you think it would have been before you became his private Death Commandos?”

  “That would never have happened,” Karoly put in emphatically. “We would never sink that low, not even under a treaty.”

  Shada stirred. “What was it you tried to stop me from doing on the Resinem Complex roof?” she asked quietly.

  “That was different,” Karoly protested.

  Shada shook her head. “No. Condoning and cooperating with murder is no different from committing it yourself.”

  “She’s right,” Karrde said. “And once you started down that road, it would have meant the end of the Mistryl. You’d have burned your skyarches behind you with every other potential client; and when Flim’s soap bubble collapsed, as it inevitably would have, there would have been nothing left out there anymore for you.

  “And with the end of the Mistryl would have come a final end to Emberlene.”

  He crossed his arms and waited … and after a few seconds the older woman grimaced. “What is it you want?”

  “I want the Mistryl hunter teams called off Shada,” he said. “Whatever her alleged crime against you, it’s to be forgiven and the death mark lifted.”

  The woman’s mouth twisted. “You ask much.”

  “We’ve given much,” Karrde reminded her. “Is it a deal?”

  She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Very well. But she will not be reinstated into the Mistryl; not now, not ever. And Emberlene will forever be closed to her.”

  She turned burning eyes up at Shada. “F
rom now on she is a woman without a home.”

  Karrde looked at Shada. Her face was tight, her lips pressed tightly together. But she returned his look steadily and nodded. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll just have to see about finding her a new home.”

  “With you?” The woman snorted. “With a smuggler and seller of information? Tell me again how low a Mistryl can sink.”

  There was no answer to that. But fortunately, Karrde didn’t have to come up with one. There was a sudden bustling at his side, and then he was gently but firmly shouldered away by the medical team as they gathered around the injured woman. He stepped back out of their way, shifting his attention to the security team that had arrived at the same time. With professional efficiency they scanned Flim and Disra for hidden weapons, put restraints on them both, and escorted them back to the aft bridge turbolift.

  Another group, following behind them, was carrying Tierce’s body.

  “Karrde?”

  He turned to see Pellaeon walking back along the command walkway toward him. “I have to go across to the Errarti Venture and speak with General Bel Iblis,” the Admiral said as he reached him. “But before I go, I wanted to discuss the price for the Flim and Tierce information you brought me.”

  Karrde shrugged. “For once in my life, Admiral, I’m not sure what to say,” he admitted. “The datacard was a gift to me. It seems a bit dishonest to turn around and charge you for it.”

  “Ah.” Pellaeon eyed him speculatively. “A gift from those aliens whose ship scared the stuffing out of my sensor officers at Bastion?”

  “From an associate of theirs,” Karrde said. “I’m really not at liberty to discuss the details.”

  “I understand,” Pellaeon said. “Still, your ethics apart—which I find laudable, incidentally—I’d like to find a way to thank you with something more concrete than just words.”

  “I’ll see what I can come up with.” Karrde gestured toward the Star Destroyer visible out the viewport. “In the meantime, may I ask what you’re going over to discuss with General Bel Iblis?”

  Pellaeon’s eyes narrowed slightly. But then he shrugged. “It’s still highly confidential, of course,” he said. “But knowing you, you’ll probably know about it soon enough, anyway. I’m proposing a peace treaty between the Empire and the New Republic. It’s time for this long war to finally end.”