by Timothy Zahn
She stared at the label, a sudden chill running straight through her. Four words, with the dirt already brushed off.
The Hand of Thrawn.
“Mom?” Jacen asked, his voice not much above a whisper. Young and inexperienced in the Force, he nevertheless was keenly attuned to his mother, almost as closely attuned as he was to his sister Jaina. “What’s wrong?”
Leia reached out to the Force, calming herself. “I’m all right,” she told her son. “Something on this card just startled me, that’s all.”
Jacen craned his neck to look. “ ‘The Hand of Thrawn.’ What does that mean?”
Leia shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Oh.” Jacen frowned up at her. “Then how come you were so scared?”
It was a good question, Leia had to admit. Could the simple if unexpected appearance of Thrawn’s name really have thrown her so hard? Even coupled with her memories of his near victory, it didn’t seem likely. “I don’t know that, either, Jacen,” she said. “Maybe I was just remembering the past.”
“Or seeing into the future,” Cakhmaim said softly. “The Mal’ary’ush has great powers, secondson of Vader.”
“I know,” Jacen said gravely. “She’s my mom.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Leia admonished him mock-severely as she ruffled his hair. “Now be quiet a minute and let’s see what this is all about.” Pulling her datapad from her pouch, suddenly not caring at all about possible dust contamination, she slid the datacard in.
“What does it say?” Cakhmaim asked quietly.
Leia shook her head. “Nothing,” she told him. “At least, nothing legible.” She tried a different section of the card, then another. “Looks like the whole datacard has been scrambled. I guess ten years of exposure will do that. Maybe the experts on Coruscant can—”
She broke off. Jacen’s face and thoughts—“Mom!” he blurted. “Jaina and Anakin!”
“It’s Lak Jit,” Leia snapped, stretching out through the Force and catching the sudden flash of fright from her children. She caught a secondhand image of the Devaronian charging through the clearing and a sudden cloud of billowing white smoke—“Cakhmaim!”
But Cakhmaim was already through the door, screaming the alert in the warbling Noghri combat code. Jamming the datapad and datacards back into her hip pack, Leia grabbed Jacen’s hand and followed Cakhmaim outside, clearing the doorway just as an answer trilled through the trees. “They are unharmed,” Cakhmaim said, his tone icy with grim relief. “The Devaronian has stolen a speeder bike.”
All around them, armed Noghri were pouring out of the houses in response to Cakhmaim’s alert. “Which way was he going?” Leia asked, heading across the settlement. On both sides of them, Noghri were falling into escort positions; ahead, through the trees, she could see glimpses of the smoke as it dispersed. Stretching out through the Force, she sent reassurance to her children.
Cakhmaim warbled again, was answered as they reached the edge of the settlement. “Unknown,” he reported. “They could not see his departure.”
Most of the smoke had cleared by the time they reached the clearing a minute later. Of the nine Noghri Leia had left there, six remained, pressing in a tight defensive circle around the children. “Jaina, Anakin,” she breathed, dropping to one knee beside them and giving them each a quick but tight hug. There was no need to ask if they were all right; her Jedi senses had already confirmed that. “Khabarakh, what happened?”
“He surprised us, Lady Vader,” the Noghri said, his face set in the quiet agony of a warrior who has failed his duty. “He walked casually into the clearing and dropped his digging tool onto the ground between us. Part of the handle was a disguised smoke grenade, which exploded with the impact. We could hear him as he activated one of the speeder bikes, but I would not allow any to try to seek him out in the smoke. Should I have acted differently?”
“No,” Cakhmaim said firmly. “The machine is of no consequence. Only the safety of the Lady Vader’s first-children is important. Your honor is not compromised, Khabarakh clan Kihm’bar.”
Jaina tugged at Leia’s sleeve. “Why did he run, Mother? Was he afraid of the Noghri?”
“In a way, honey, yes,” Leia said grimly. Suddenly, with the clear vision of hindsight, the whole deception was obvious. Pulling the Devaronian’s datacards from her hip pack, she fanned them in her hands.
All of them, as she’d already noted, had dirty edges. On one, though, it was only the edges that were dirty.
“Lady Vader?”
Leia turned. From the brush at the edge of the clearing, two Noghri were helping up a dazed-looking Threepio. “Oh, my,” the droid breathed. “I must have taken a bad step.”
“Threepio!” Anakin squealed, ducking between his mother and Cakhmaim and racing across to help. “You all right?”
Threepio briefly examined his arms. “I appear to be undamaged, Master Anakin, thank you,” he assured the child.
“We’ve got to find him,” Leia said, turning back to Cakhmaim and Khabarakh and holding up the clean datacard. “He’s still got one of the datacards he found at the mountain.”
“I will send out more searchers,” Cakhmaim said, pulling out a comlink. “Perhaps I can also arrange an unexpected surprise for our thief.”
“Your Highness?” Threepio called. “I don’t know if this is of any use to you—or indeed whether or not you already know it—but before I tripped and fell—”
“Speak quickly,” Cakhmaim snapped.
Threepio shrank back slightly. “I observed the stolen speeder bike leave in that direction.” He pointed.
“Hey, yeah,” Anakin said. “Threepio was outside the smoke!”
“He’s making for the northern side of Mount Tantiss,” Cakhmaim said decisively. “Undoubtedly where his ship is located. Khabarakh, your group will take the airspeeders and remaining speeder bikes and pursue. I will take the Lady Vader and her firstchildren back to the settlement.”
“Just the children, Cakhmaim,” Leia corrected, heading for one of the airspeeders. “I’m going with Khabarakh.”
Thirty seconds later the group was airborne. “Do we have any idea where his ship might be?” Leia asked as the vehicles tore across the landscape.
“The Myneyrshi will know,” Khabarakh said. “They watch all movements near the forbidden mountain. Perhaps that is the surprise Cakhmaim spoke of.”
Leia pulled out a set of macrobinoculars from the air-speeder’s storage compartment, and for a few minutes she scanned across the forest below and ahead. Nothing. “He’s probably staying right down at ground level,” she said.
“That will slow him,” Khabarakh said. “Still, if we cannot locate his ship, he will likely be able to lift off before we reach him.”
And unless the Noghri airspeeders were lucky enough to be right on top of him at the time, the Devaronian would be out of their firing range in a matter of seconds. Pressing her face tighter against the macrobinoculars, Leia stretched out as hard as she could through the Force, trying to locate Lak Jit’s presence.
There was nothing she could detect from the forest ahead of them. But even as she tried to focus her thoughts more tightly, she caught a flicker of something else nearby. Something unexpected, yet definitely familiar, and coming steadily closer. Lowering the macrobinoculars, she half closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sensation—
“Hold on!” Khabarakh snapped, and the airspeeder curved sharply around to the left. Leia grabbed for a handhold, nearly losing her grip on the macrobinoculars. Ahead and below them, an old Gymsnor-2 freighter had appeared above the trees. Half closing her eyes again, she stretched out toward the freighter, finally catching the Devaronian’s presence. “That’s him,” she confirmed. “Can we stop him?”
“We will try,” Khabarakh said.
Leia grimaced. Do; or do not. There is no try. Luke had quoted that Jedi dictum to her over and over during her training.
And it was quickly becoming clear th
at here, too, there was no try. Even with the airspeeders running full throttle, the Gymsnor was steadily pulling away from its pursuers. Ahead of it, there was nothing: no ships, no hills, no obstacles of any sort, nothing that would slow it down. Already it was above the speeder bikes’ maximum height limit; a few minutes more and it would be leaving the airspeeders behind, as well.
There was a sudden gravelly mewing of Noghri words from the comm speaker. Khabarakh answered; and abruptly the airspeeders slowed. Leia turned to him, opening her mouth to ask why they were giving up the chase—
And with a terrific roar, a spaceship shot past them on their right, heading straight for the Gymsnor.
“Khabarakh!” Leia snapped, wincing as the airspeeder bucked in the other ship’s slipstream.
“It is all right, Lady Vader,” Khabarakh assured her. “It is an ally.”
“An ally?” Leia repeated, frowning at the newcomer. A Corellian Action VI bulk freighter, by the looks of it. Nearly four times the size of Lak Jit’s ship to begin with; and if the rate it was closing on the Devaronian was any indication, it had undergone a substantial engine upgrade.
Lak Jit had apparently come to a similar conclusion. Banking hard to the right, he dipped back down toward the trees and then cut sharply up and around, settling into a new vector and clawing hard for space.
It was a maneuver that Leia had seen used time and again in the war against the Empire, and it was one that nearly always worked against a larger and more ungainly pursuer. But in this case, it didn’t. Almost before Lak Jit had even begun his turn, the Action VI was moving to counter; and by the time the Gymsnor had straightened out, the larger ship was right back on top of him, forcing him to abandon his climb or risk a midair collision. Slowly but inexorably, the Devaronian was being forced down.
“Well done,” Khabarakh said.
“Yes,” Leia murmured … and finally she understood the odd sensation she’d felt a few minutes ago. “So this is the surprise Cakhmaim promised.”
“Yes,” Khabarakh said. “The Wild Karrde, with your allies Talon Karrde and Mara Jade aboard.” He eyed her, almost furtively. “I trust you are not displeased?”
Leia smiled tightly. Talon Karrde: genteel smuggler chief, onetime ally of the New Republic, considered untrustworthy by the majority of the High Council. Mara Jade: former agent of the Emperor, Karrde’s second-in-command, and aside from Leia herself, Luke’s first attempt at teaching the ways of the Force. Also considered untrustworthy. “No, Khabarakh, I’m not displeased at all,” Leia assured him. “Like the Noghri, I too remember the past.”
• • •
The Gymsnor squatted in the clearing, canted slightly to one side on a crumpled landing skid, its hatchway open and surrounded by a group of Noghri. “I wouldn’t have believed you could force a ship down like that,” Leia commented, running a critical eye over the freighter. “Not without wrecking half of it in the process.”
Beside her, Talon Karrde shrugged modestly. “Cakhmaim said ‘relatively undamaged,’ ” he told her. “We do try to please.”
“And you generally succeed,” Leia agreed. A pair of Noghri appeared at the hatchway, conversed briefly with the others standing guard outside, then disappeared back inside. “I’m glad you happened to be on Wayland. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Business,” Karrde told her. “I’ve been experimenting with hiring Noghri to help protect my contact people in some of the more dangerous or unsavory parts of the galaxy.”
Leia frowned. “I hadn’t heard anything about this.”
“We’ve been keeping it quiet,” Karrde said. “I’m not exactly welcome on Coruscant these days; and given your close ties with the Noghri, we didn’t want your reputation and influence damaged by association.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Leia said. “But I can take care of my own reputation, thank you. And as far as New Republic hospitality goes, there are still quite a few of us who haven’t forgotten your part in stopping Grand Admiral Thrawn.”
“I don’t think any of the High Councilors or Senators have actually forgotten,” Karrde countered, an uncharacteristic touch of bitterness seeping into his voice and mood. “The point is that many of them resented my organization’s assistance even at the time we were providing it.”
Leia looked up at him, noting the hard set of his face and the equally hard edge to his emotions. She’d been aware that official ties between Karrde’s smuggler friends and the New Republic had been growing more and more distant over the past few years, but she hadn’t realized he felt this strongly about it. “I’m sorry,” was all she could think of to say. “What can I do to help?”
He waved the offer away, and as he did so the bitterness faded into a kind of wry resignation. “Don’t try,” he said. “Smugglers are part of the fringe, just like mercenaries and con men and pirates. Try to defend us, and all you’ll accomplish will be to get muddied alongside us.”
“As I’ve already said, my reputation is my own concern.”
“Besides which,” Karrde continued quietly, “drawing any attention to me at this point would also put the Noghri at risk. Or don’t you think some in the High Council would consider hiring themselves out to a smuggler to be an unacceptable activity?”
Leia grimaced. But he was right; and with the Noghri still under their self-imposed cloud of penance for their years of service to the Empire, the clan dynasts would be extremely sensitive to any such charges. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Don’t be,” Karrde advised her. “If the New Republic doesn’t need me, I certainly don’t need it, either. Ah—here we go.”
Leia looked back at the freighter. A new group had exited the hatchway: three Noghri, a sullen-looking Lak Jit, and Mara Jade, her red-gold hair glistening in the sunlight. In her hand was a dirt-stained datacard. “Incidentally, what ever happened with Mara’s independent trading company?” Leia asked. “I heard it had failed, but never heard why.”
“It didn’t fail; it was simply closed down,” Karrde said. “Actually, it was never meant to be anything permanent—I wanted her to have some experience running a small company directly, so we set her up with one. All part of the process of grooming her to take over my organization someday.”
The group crossed the clearing to where Karrde and Leia were waiting. To Leia’s complete lack of surprise, the Devaronian got in the first word. “I vehemently protest this treatment,” he bit out, his eyes and horns glistening with anger. “I have committed no crime that would permit you, Councilor Organa Solo, to open fire on me and to cause damage to my ship. Rest assured that I will be lodging formal complaints with the New Republic High Council and Senate, the Ojoster Sector Assembly, the Corellian Merchants’ Guild—”
“And your employer, Talon Karrde?” Karrde suggested mildly.
“Certainly: and Talon Karrde,” Lak Jit agreed. “I demand the immediate return of my property—”
He broke off, his eyes focusing on Karrde for the first time. Leia stretched out with the Force, and caught the sudden startled burst of recognition. “You are—?”
“Yes,” Karrde confirmed, his voice suddenly cold. He held out a hand, and Mara put the datacard into it. “Tell me, where were you taking this?”
“I was going to bring it to you, of course,” Lak Jit said.
Leia looked at Mara, standing a little behind the Devaronian, her hand resting casually on the lightsaber attached to her belt. The other woman returned Leia’s look, a knowing and slightly cynical half smile on her face. Clearly, both of them had caught the quaver in Lak Jit’s thoughts. Mara shifted her eyes back to Karrde, tilted her head fractionally to the left. “That’s lie number one, Lak Jit,” Karrde told the Devaronian, lifting a finger. “One more, and I’ll inform the Corellian Merchants’ Guild you’re illegally using their name.” The temperature of his voice dropped still lower. “Third lie puts you in trouble with me. Now. Where were you going?”
The Devaronian seemed to shrink. “To s
ell the datacard,” he muttered. “To those who would pay the most.” He looked furtively at Leia. “Much better than she would have.”
“And who are these generous people?” Karrde asked.
Lak Jit twitched his horns left, then right: the Devaronian equivalent of a shrug. “You’ll know as soon as you read it. Be careful when you do—I nearly destroyed my datapad trying. It’s extremely dirty.”
“Yes, I noticed.” Karrde looked at Mara. “You’ve checked his entire ship?”
“The Noghri are still poking around, but this is definitely the card,” Mara said.
“All right.” Karrde looked back at the Devaronian. “As soon as they’re finished, you can leave. Depending on what we find in the datacard, you may or may not still be associated with my organization. Your usual contact will let you know.”
Lak Jit bowed elaborately. “As always, a most generous master,” he said, not quite enough sarcasm in his tone to take offense at. He looked at Leia. “There was, I believe, mention of five hundred in earnest money?”
Leia and Karrde exchanged incredulous glances. “I think you forfeited any claims to that when you threw the smoke grenade at my children,” she told the Devaronian. “We’ll still pay you whatever we decide these datacards are worth, but now you’ll have to wait.”
“They may pay you,” Karrde amended. “I may consider taking any such payment as my fee for helping keep you here.”
Lak Jit smiled thinly. “As I said, a most generous master.”
“Just be thankful you didn’t try this on a Hutt,” Karrde countered. “Get going.”
The Devaronian bowed again and headed back toward his ship, the three Noghri trailing along with him. “Yours, I believe,” Karrde said, handing Leia the datacard. “We have facilities for cleaning it aboard the Wild Karrde, if you’d care to avail yourself of them.”
“Which would allow you a chance to read it over my shoulder?” Leia suggested dryly.
