Star Wars - Hand of Thrawn 2 - Vision of the Future

by Timothy Zahn

  And Zothip gasped with pain, lurching forward directly into the devastating kick Tierce had thrown at his stomach. Another agonized gasp as the kick connected, and the pirate chief sprawled with a thud over the computer desk, his blaster flying out of a suddenly limp hand to land on the floor.

  And Disra found himself staring at the knife hilt that had appeared in the center of Zothip's back. A gift, obviously, from the woman.

  He looked up at her as she walked quietly to the desk, ignoring the three Imperials. Gripping Zothip's beard, she turned his dulled eyes up to face her. "That was for Lorardian," she said, her voice quiet but bitter.

  Zothip's mouth moved once, but no sound came out. The dull eyes became duller, and closed, and as the woman let go of his beard he sagged once more and lay still.

  Again a silence descended on the room. And once again, Thrawn was the one who broke it. "Nicely done," he said. "Thank you for your assistance."

  "Not that I needed it," Tierce put in tautly. Disra glanced at him, noting with some surprise that the Guardsman had produced a small blaster from somewhere and had it trained on the woman. "Who are you?"

  She looked up from Zothip's body, her eyes dark and slightly contemptuous as she looked Tierce up and down. "Apparently, not all your people are as appreciative as you are, Admiral Thrawn," she said, ignoring the Guardsman's question.

  "You'll have to forgive Major Tierce," Thrawn said soothingly. "My safety is one of his primary concerns, a responsibility he takes very seriously. But he doesn't understand you the way I do." He waved toward Tierce's blaster. "You may put the weapon away, Major. The Mistryl shadow guards do not kill casually or without cause."

  Disra suddenly felt cold. A Mistryl shadow guard? Here in his palace?

  The woman blinked, obviously taken aback by Thrawn's revelation of her identity. "How did you know who I was?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

  "Come now," Thrawn said, mildly reproving as he waved a languid hand around at the carnage. "After that demonstration of your combat skills, who else could you be but a Mistryl? And of course, there was your reference to Lorardian," he added, his voice softening. "My condolences on that."

  "Thank you," she said, almost reluctantly tilting her head in acknowledgment. "I didn't think anyone else knew or cared what happened there."

  "Information is part of my job," Thrawn said.

  "I suppose so." The woman nodded to her left. "What are you planning to do with the leftovers?"

  "I don't know yet," Thrawn said. "Tell me, Control what shall we do with you?"

  Disra shifted his gaze away from the woman, suddenly and belatedly realizing that the last pirate had indeed not been accounted for.

  And with good reason. Control was standing perfectly still in the spot where he'd been when the fight began, his hands held open and empty in front of him, his blaster still in its holster. Yet on his face was not fear or anger, but cool contemplation of the scene. "My congratulations to you, Admiral," he said, nodding at Thrawn and then at Tierce. "And to you, Major. I was expecting stormtroopers in hidden wall niches. Your way was much more subtle and equally effective."

  He turned his head to look at the woman. "Your appearance, on the other hand, was completely unexpected. I gather you sneaked in behind us. I'd give a great deal to know how you did that."

  "The only thing the Mistryl have to offer the Cavrilhu Pirates is death," she countered coldly. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't start with you."

  Control shrugged; but Disra could tell he wasn't quite as calm as he was trying to let on. "Because you've already avenged the Mistryl deaths at Lorardian," he said. "Zothip was the one who forced the issue there. There was nothing any of the rest of us could do about it."

  He turned his eyes back to Disra. "Just as he was also the one demanding revenge on you and Admiral Pellaeon for the fiasco at Pesitiin, Your Excellency," he added. "I'd like to suggest that all such unpleasantries can and should be put behind us."

  Tierce snorted something under his breath. "Certainly the courageous one, isn't he?"

  "You miss the point, Major," Disra said, smiling at Control. Suddenly, it was all making sense. "Control here isn't scrabbling around desperately trying to save his skin. He had this whole confrontation mapped out right from the start."

  The Mistryl frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that he decided he was tired of being second in line," Disra told her, watching Control closely. The slight, knowing smile on the other's lips was all the proof he needed that he had hit it precisely. "All of it was pure politics."

  "It was more than just politics, Your Excellency," Control said. "Zothip had mouth and bluster; but he didn't have the brains to run an organization as large as ours. For years now I've been the one who's been holding it all together. It's high time I took over the perks as well as the work."

  "How convenient that we've cleared the path for you," Thrawn said. "Is there anything more you want from us?"

  "For starters, I'd like to leave here alive," Control said, giving each of the Imperials a smile that managed to be smug and ingratiating at the same time. "Other than that" He hesitated. "Zothip was right about our arrangement with Moff Disra," he said, turning his attention to Thrawn. "We made out pretty good, but we were also taking too many of the risks. Besides that, the New Republic seems to be on to us now. I think it's time we bowed out."

  "Then you forfeit your chance to share in the division of the galaxy at the Empire's victory," Disra warned, wondering why he was even bothering to try to talk Control into this. Certainly he didn't really care if the Cavrilhu Pirates walked or not.

  He needn't have worried. "We'll take our chances," Control said. "You may be a genius, Admiral, but frankly I don't think even you can pull it off."

  "As you wish," Thrawn said. "You will, of course, still keep the Preybird production line operating."

  "We'll keep it running," Control promised. "In fact, I'll give you our interest in the whole operation as a welcome-back present."

  He smirked, but in Disra's eyes the expression rang just a little bit hollow. "And as a token of our past association with the Empire, and of our friendly parting of the ways."

  "Of course," Thrawn said, giving him a knowing smile in return. "And just in case you're wrong about the extent of my genius?"

  The smirk twitched and vanished. "A lot of fringe groups got caught in the middle the last time you went up against the New Republic, Admiral," he said. "I'd rather the Cavrilhu Pirates not wind up in that position."

  "I think that can be avoided," Thrawn agreed. "Certainly as long as the Preybirds continue to be delivered."

  "You've got a deal," Control said, his eyes flicking to the Mistryl as he cautiously lowered his arms. "If that's all, then, I have an organization to restructure. Good luck to you, Admiral."

  "And to you, Captain Control," Thrawn replied, inclining his head slightly. "I don't expect to see you or any of your pirates in Imperial space again."

  Control swallowed visibly. "No, sir," he said as he backed toward the door to the secret passageway. "You won't."

  He slipped into the doorway and vanished. "I hope letting him go was the right thing to do," Disra muttered. Pellaeon was at the other end of that passageway, and they only had Control's word that he wasn't interested in revenge.

  "Don't worry," Thrawn assured him. "As you already pointed out, he put a great deal of time and thought into maneuvering Zothip here this way. No, he'll head directly back to his ship with his tale of woe, and that will be that."

  "What about her?" Tierce asked, nodding at the woman. He had lowered his blaster as ordered, but was still holding it ready at his side. "She did come in with them."

  "I came in behind them," the woman corrected. "I overheard a comment about clones and pirate arrangements with the Empire and"

  "Clones?" Disra cut her off. "Who was talking about clones?"

  She regarded him coolly. "A couple of New Republic agents named Han Solo and Lando
Calrissian," she said. "You may have heard of them."

  "I believe we have, yes," Thrawn said with an easy smile. "Actually, we're trying to make contact with them at the moment."

  Her lip twitched. "I'll bet you are."

  "But more interesting to me," Thrawn continued, "would be to hear your response to the offer I made to you a few minutes ago."

  She frowned. "What offer?"

  "Don't you remember?" Thrawn asked. "I pointed out that your recovery to my appearance had been a bit slow, but otherwise not bad. I then spoke of the Empire's wish to acquire allies."

  Her forehead furrowed. "What are you talking about?" she demanded. "You made that offer to Zothip, not me. You didn't even know I was there."

  "On the contrary," Thrawn said quietly. "I knew full well you were there. And if you'll think back to my offer, you may notice that I never mentioned either Zothip or his pirates."

  She stared at him, her face struggling as she obviously tried to sort out whether he was being truthful or feeding her a load of lies. Flim weaving yet another of his spells... and even with the audience prejudiced against him, it appeared to be working.

  But right now Disra didn't have time to enjoy the show. "I'm sure you and the lady have a great deal to discuss, Admiral," he murmured, taking a step back toward the door. "If you'll excuse me, though, I need to get back to Admiral Pellaeon."

  "Certainly, Your Excellency," Thrawn said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps we'll move to another room to continue our discussion." He lifted an eyebrow at the woman. "Assuming, that is, you're interested in what my new Empire has to offer the Mistryl."

  "We've never worked for the Empire before," the woman said cautiously as Disra stepped to the door and pulled it open.

  "That was Palpatine's Empire," Thrawn reminded her. "The Empire I propose to rebuild"

  The rest of the sales pitch was lost as Disra closed the door behind him and hurried down the corridors. The secret passageway would have been faster; but Pellaeon didn't know about that, and Disra would just as soon it be kept secret. Switching corridors, rounding the last corner, he headed down the main hallway toward the door guards. "Has Admiral Pellaeon asked about me?" he asked as the guards saluted and stepped aside.

  "No, Your Excellency," one of them said as the double doors began to swing open. "Actually, he's already left."

  Disra came to an abrupt stop. "What do you mean, he's left?" he echoed, peering in through the opening doors. The office was indeed empty. "Where did he go?"

  "He didn't say, Your Excellency," the guard said.

  Disra stepped into the office, frowning around the room as the doors closed behind him. This made no sense. Why would Pellaeon and that slinker Dreyf just leave? Surely they hadn't simply decided to let him off the hook.

  His eyes fell on his desk...

  He was around the side of the desk in five quick strides, swearing the whole way, feeling a clammy sweat breaking out on his face. No. They couldn't have.

  But they had. The hidden desk drawer had been forced open.

  And the datacards were gone.

  CHAPTER

  23

  Disra's groping hand found the comm switch. "Tierce, get in here," he managed, his voice sounding odd through the pounding of his heart in his ears. "Now."

  He switched the comm to the guards outside. "When did Pellaeon leave?" he demanded.

  "Five or six minutes ago, Your Excellency," the voice came back.

  Which meant he would be out of the palace by now and headed for the spaceport, with the Capital Security forces who could have intercepted him dispersed uselessly around the city in their hunt for Solo and Calrissian. Disra ground his teeth together, a vision of the grand scheme he'd worked so hard to create collapsing in front of his eyes. Everything was on those datacards everything. Encrypted, of course; but if Pellaeon was able to decrypt them...

  And then another, even more awful thought jabbed up under his heart. Colonel Vermel, hidden away in a quiet little detention cell on Rimcee Station...

  It took nearly a minute to get the long-range comm keyed through the various relays to the Rimcee system. And when he did...

  Across the room, the secret door opened and Tierce stepped into the office. "We have them," he announced with grim satisfaction. "Their ship's in Docking Bay 155"

  "Pellaeon's got the datacards," Disra cut him off viciously.

  "What?" Tierce demanded, picking up his pace.

  "The datacards, fool," Disra snarled. "The Vengeance scheme, our arrangement with Zothip's pirates, names and details of the industrial/financial web I've been usingeverything."

  Tierce hissed between his teeth, throwing a look at the empty drawer. "Incredible," he said, almost as if talking to himself. "He actually broke into your private records. I would never have thought him capable of doing that. It must have been Dreyf's idea."

  "We can get the details at the trial," Disra snapped. "Forget whose idea it was. What are we going to do?"

  "What do we have to do?" Tierce said with a shrug. "They're encrypted, aren't they? By the time Pellaeon decrypts them"

  "He already has," Disra cut him off. "At least well enough. He knows Vermel's at Rimcee Station."

  Tierce's face hardened. "How do you know?"

  "Because I just tried to get through to them," Disra gritted. "Pellaeon's had all transmissions to the entire system blocked off."

  Tierce threw a dark look at the blank comm display. "Fast work," he murmured. "Very good, Admiral."

  "Never mind that," Disra snapped, almost shaking with fear and rage and frustration. Didn't Tierce understand the whole plan was about to collapse on top of them? "We've got to stop him. We've got to pull Vermel out before Pellaeon gets there"

  "No," Tierce said, his voice suddenly decisive. "What we have to do is catch Solo and Calrissian before they get to their ship and have our Grand Admiral put on a show for them."

  "Are you insane?" Disra snarled. "To Kessel with Solothis is my neck we're talking about!"

  "Calm down, Disra," Tierce said, his voice like a slap of cold water in the Moff's face. "Whatever Pellaeon's got doesn't matter. You understand? It doesn't matter. We have the ultimate clear-card Grand Admiral Thrawn. All he has to do is take command and declare everything we've done to have been at his direction. Now snap out of it."

  Disra took a shuddering breath, glaring at Tierce in silent, impotent fury. Silent fury that the Guardsman was dismissing so casually all the years Disra had put into this project. Impotent fury because he was right. "Fine," he choked out. "So we forget Pellaeon. What do we do instead?"

  "You weren't listening," Tierce said, his eyes still narrowed as he watched Disra's face. "We've got their landing bay numberthat Mistryl woman D'ulin rode in with them as a stowaway. The admiral and I have to get there before they get back. You understand?"

  "Yes, I understand," Disra growled, his brain only now starting to unfreeze from the shock and panic. "I'm not a child, you know."

  "Glad to hear it," Tierce said coldly. "Because while we're out there, you're going to go talk to D'ulin. Find out what she wants and what it'll take to bring the Mistryl onto our side."

  Disra felt his mouth drop open a centimeter. The reports he'd heard about the Mistryl "You want to try to make allies of them? Have you lost your mind? They hate the Empire!"

  "We need a new fringe group to replace the Cavrilhu Pirates," Tierce said, his voice one of exaggerated patience. "And we do not have time to argue about it. Thrawn and D'ulin are in the library across from your quarters. Go take over so that he and I can get to the spaceport. Understand? Now move."

  The snapped command made Disra jump. "Don't ever talk to me that way again, Major," he warned, his voice quietly deadly. "Ever."

  "Then don't ever fall apart on me again, Your Excellency," Tierce countered. If he was either impressed or intimidated by Disra's warning, he didn't show it. "Now get moving."

  * * * The legion of Imperial troops Han had feared
would be ringing the spaceport wasn't there. Neither were the hard-eyed guards he'd expected at the entrypoint, the monitor droids along the access street, or the stormtroopers at the door to their docking bay. In fact, from all appearances it looked like they'd gotten completely away with it.

  And that all by itself was enough to worry him. A lot.

  Lando felt it, too. "I don't like this, Han," he muttered, glancing around the street behind them as Han unlocked the bay door. "This is way too easy."

  "Yeah, I know," Han agreed, taking one last look around as he took Lobot's arm and guided him through the doorway. Lando's on-the-fly changes to his implant's programming over the past hour may have thrown the Imperials off the scent, but they'd also left Lobot rather dazed. If it came to a fight at the Lady Luck's ramp, he was going to be no help at all.

  The dark passageway through the docking bay's service and supply area was also deserted. "Soon as we're aboard you get the engines fired up," Han told Lando as they stepped out onto the permacrete beneath the open sky. The Lady Luck was still there, looking just the way they'd left her. "I'll handle the weapons. Maybe Moegid can get into the spaceport computer and get us a quick exit slot"

  "That won't be necessary," a quiet voice came from behind them.

  Han spun around, yanking out his appropriated blaster. Behind them on the permacrete had appeared the flickering full-sized holo of a man. A man with blue skin, wearing a white Imperial uniform...

  Lando made a strange sound in the back of his throat. "It's him," he murmured.

  Han nodded, feeling numb. It was indeed.

  Grand Admiral Thrawn.

  "Please lay your weapons on the ground," Thrawn directed. "I'd prefer to speak with you face-to-face, but understandably have no desire to be shot."

  "Understandably," Han agreed, keeping a firm grip on his blaster, his eyes darting around the landing bay. There must be some actual troops in here somewhere...

  The holo smiled. "Come now, Captain Solo," he said soothingly. "Surely you don't think you'll be able to simply blast your way out of Bastion as you have from so many other systems during your checkered career. Don't you wish to see your wife and children again?"