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

by Timothy Zahn

  Entoo Nee shrugged again. "I don't know how they did it. I only know that they did. According to Admiral David, their entire fleet has now left its hidden base and is on its way to Exocron."

  "You knew about this before we even landed?" Shada demanded. "Why didn't you say something?"

  "What should I have said?" Entoo Nee countered. "The damage had already been done. They had found Exocron." He gestured upward. "In fact, that was why I wanted to bring you here myself from Dayark, Captain Karrde. They wouldn't have been able to track my ship."

  Karrde grimaced. As if his guilt burden hadn't been heavy enough, now this. "How long before they reach the planet?"

  "Excuse me," Threepio spoke up before Entoo Nee could answer. "But if pirates are on their way, shouldn't we be planning our departure?"

  "He's right," Entoo Nee agreed. "Still, there's no particular hurry for you. They won't be here for at least another eight hours. Possibly more."

  "What about you?" Shada asked.

  Entoo Nee's mouth puckered. "I'm sure we'll be all right. I'm told the Combined Air-Space Fleet is quite good."

  "Maybe against the occasional smuggler or rock-dodger," Shada said darkly. "But this is Rei'Kas we're talking about."

  "It's our trouble, not yours," Entoo Nee said firmly. "You'd best make preparations to go."

  The comlink, Karrde suddenly realized, was still on. "Dankin?" he called. "You get all that?"

  "We got it, Chief," Dankin confirmed. "You still want me to get the ship ready?"

  Karrde looked past Entoo Nee at the room's darkened windows. Beyond those windows were people his actions, however unintended, had put in deadly danger.

  Which meant there really wasn't any decision here to be made. "Yes, get it ready," he told Dankin. "But get it ready for full combat."

  He looked back at Entoo Nee. "We're going to stay and fight."

  CHAPTER

  25

  It was, Booster Terrik thought, about as chaotic aboard the Errant Venture as he'd ever seen it. And considering this was the Errant Venture he was talking about, that was really saying something.

  They were all over the place New Republic techs and workers and officer types, thousands of them, crawling around every corner of his Star Destroyer. Fixing things, adding things, taking things out, upgrading things, and occasionally changing things around just for the fun of it. His own people had been overridden, nudged aside, superseded, or flat out run over as this oversized rancor of a restoration crew lumbered through his ship.

  And moving around the center of it, like the single calm spot in the middle of a circlestorm, was General Bel Iblis.

  "Five more warships arrived in the system last night," a harried-looking aide was saying, hurrying to keep up with Bel Iblis as the general strode briskly along the Starboard-16 weapons emplacement corridor. Booster, with his longer legs, had less of a problem in that department. Still, in his opinion, Bel Iblis had a lot more energy than anyone had any business having this early in the morning. "The Freedom's Fury, Spirit of Mindor, Starline Warrior, Stellar Sentinel, and Welling's Revenge."

  "Good," Bel Iblis said, stopping beside a turbolaser monitor panel. "What about the Garfin and Beledeen II ?"

  "No word on them yet," the aide said, checking his datapad. "I've also heard rumors that the Webley's here, but so far they haven't checked in."

  "They're here," Booster spoke up. "Captain Winger is, anywaythose mechanical fingers of hers leave pretty distinctive marks on metal ale tubes."

  The aide's eyes darkened. "All incoming ships are supposed to check in immediately"

  "It's all right," Bel Iblis calmed him. "Don't worry, they'll surface in plenty of time. Alex probably just wanted her crew to get some rest before the orders started flying."

  "They're not the only ones who could use some rest," Booster muttered under his breath.

  Bel Iblis frowned slightly, as if only now noticing the big man's presence. "Was there something you wanted, Terrik?" he asked.

  "Just wondering when the work on my ship will be finished," Booster said.

  "We're almost there," Bel Iblis said. "Lieutenant?"

  "Looks like the major refitting will be completed inside of twelve hours," the younger man confirmed, studying his datapad. "There may be a few odds and ends left, but they can be finished on the way to Yaga Minor."

  Bel Iblis looked at Booster. "Was there anything else?" he asked.

  "Yeah, there was," Booster said. He stopped, looking significantly at the aide.

  Bel Iblis took the hint. "Lieutenant, go check on the Number 7 tractor beam emplacement," he said. "Make sure the balance adjustments are being made properly."

  "Yes, sir," the aide said. Throwing a speculative look at Booster, he headed at a quick walk down the corridor.

  "Why don't we step in here out of the way," Bel Iblis suggested, crossing to a door with the bright red markings of an emergency med station.

  They went inside. "Up to now, you've been pretty quiet about what your plan is for this little raid," Booster said when the door was sealed again behind them. "I think it's about time I heard some details."

  "There's not much to tell," Bel Iblis said. "We'll be taking the Errant Venture in past their sentry line and, hopefully, through their main defense perimeter. Once we're inside, the rest of the task force will come in behind us from hyperspace and attack the perimeter. If we're lucky, the Imperials will be so busy with them they won't give us a second look."

  "That assumes their first look doesn't pin us to the wall, of course," Booster pointed out darkly. "Assuming that, what then?"

  "Yaga Minor has a peculiarity that as far as I know is unique among Imperial installations," Bel Iblis said. "There are a pair of outrider computer stations set up at the end of a corridor/walkway tube that extends about a hundred meters out from the main orbiting Ubiqtorate station."

  Booster frowned. "Odd design."

  "The idea was to give high-ranking civilian researchers access to the computer records system without having to let them into the Ubiqtorate base proper," Bel Iblis told him. "Grand Moff Tarkin ran a lot of his more private stuff through Yaga Minor, and he didn't want his political enemies getting even a glimpse of what he was up to."

  "Okay, so there's a convenient remote connection to the computer," Booster said. "I don't suppose it happens to have an equally convenient access hatchway where we can get to it."

  "There are hatchways, but unfortunately they're not at all convenient," Bel Iblis said, his voice turning grim. "We'll probably have to blast a hole in the side of the walkway tube and send in our slicers in vac suits."

  Booster snorted. "Rightblow a hole in the side of the station. That'll sure go unnoticed."

  "It could," Bel Iblis said. "The main force will be firing barrages of proton torpedoes at the time. The Imperials may assume that was one that got through."

  "And if they don't?"

  Bel Iblis shrugged. "Then you and I and the rest of the Errant Venture's crew start earning our pay the hard way. We'll have to hold them off long enough for the slicers to pull up a copy of the Caamas Document and transmit it out to the attacking ships."

  Booster snorted again. "No offense, General, but that has to be the worst plan I've ever heard in my life. What happens to us once we've got the document?"

  Bel Iblis looked him straight in the eye. "What happens to us doesn't matter," he said bluntly. "If they accept our surrender, fine. If not... they turn the Errant Venture into scrap around us."

  "Hold it a second," Booster said, frowning. Buried in among all that breathtakingly lousy strategy he'd suddenly noticed a highly important word. "What do you mean us? I thought you were going to be out there with the main fleet."

  Bel Iblis shook his head. "This ship is the key to the operation," he said quietly. "This is the ship that has to survive long enough to first get the Caamas Document and then punch it out through whatever jamming the Imperials have going. This is where I'm needed the most. So this is wher
e I'll be."

  "Now, wait just one mradhe mucking minute," Booster growled, pulling himself up to his full one-meter-nine height. "This is my ship. You told me I would still be her captain."

  "You're still the captain," Bel Iblis agreed. "I'm simply the admiral."

  Booster let out a long, hissing breath. He should have known Bel Iblis hadn't really given in on anything. He should have known it. "And if I refuse to give you command?"

  Bel Iblis lifted his eyebrows slightly. Booster nodded, a sour taste in his mouth. With the Errant Venture crawling with Bel Iblis's people, the question wasn't even worth answering. "Right," he muttered. "I knew I'd regret this."

  "You can stay here if you want," Bel Iblis offered. "I'm sure Coruscant would compensate you for"

  "Forget it," Booster bit out. "This is my ship, and you're not taking it into combat without me. Period."

  Bel Iblis smiled faintly. "I understand," he said. "Believe me, I understand. Was there anything else?"

  "No, that ought to about do it for now," Booster said glumly. "You might want to see if you can come up with a better plan in the next three days."

  "I'll try," Bel Iblis promised. Turning, he headed for the door

  "Wait a second," Booster said as a new thought struck him. "You say we're going to blow a hole in that outrider computer station. What happens if someone's in there at the time?"

  "I'm not expecting anyone to be there," Bel Iblis told him. "I doubt it's used much anymore. Besides, I can't see any other way to do this."

  "But what if there is someone?" Booster persisted. "You said yourself the place was only used by civilians. You blow a hole in the wall and you're going to kill them."

  A shadow seemed to cross Bel Iblis's face. "Yes," he said quietly. "I know."

  * * * "Well," Klif said, consulting his chrono. "It's been four hours. What do you thinkanother two before the panic call comes?"

  Navett shrugged, running through a quick mental calculation of his own. He and Klif had been conspicuously elsewhere at the time, just in case backchecks were made, but according to Pensin the subtle transfer of their little organic time bombs to the Bothan techs' clothing had gone as smooth as spun gemweb. Four hours now since those techs had vanished into the Drev'starn shield generator building; give them another hour to make their presence known, two more after that for the Bothans to become fully aware of the magnitude of the problem and to exhaust all other possibilities for dealing with it... "I'm guessing at least three," he told Klif. "They aren't going to be in a hurry to call in offworlders."

  "Well, the stuff's ready whenever they do," Klif said with a shrug.

  Across the shop, the annoyingly cheery chime rang out as the door swung open. Settling his face into what Klif had dubbed their earnest-but-stupid expression, he looked up.

  And felt the expression freeze across his face. There, walking into the shop, were their two New Rep military types.

  Beside him, Klif made a faint choking sound in the back of his throat. "Quiet," Navett murmured, adding a slightly dopey smile to his expression and bounding eagerly around the end of the counter toward their visitors. "A day of fun and profit to you, or however that goes," he said, keying his voice to the pleasant yet vaguely pushy tone of a merchant determined to make a sale. "Can I help you?"

  "Just looking, thanks," one of the men said as they wandered down the row of cages. They were two of a kind, Navett noted both somewhat short, both with slightly graying brown hair, the speaker with brown eyes while his companion had green.

  And seen up close, Brown Eyes especially looked familiar.

  "Sure, sure," Navett said, hovering nearby in traditional shopkeeper style. "Anything special you're lookin' for?"

  "Not really," Green Eyes put in, gazing down into the polpian cage. "What are these? Polpians?"

  "Sure are," Navett said. Both of them had faint Corellian accents, too. "You know your petstock."

  "I know a little," Green Eyes said, gazing at him with a glint in his eye that Navett didn't care for at all. "I thought Bothans are allergic to polpians."

  "Yeah, some of 'em are, I suppose," Navett said with a shrug.

  "And yet you brought them to Bothawui?"

  Navett put on a bewildered expression. "Well, sure," he said, trying to sound slightly wounded. "Just 'cause some people are allergic to something doesn't mean someone else won't wanna buy it. Not all Bothans are allergic to 'em, either, and anyway there are lots more people here than just Bothans"

  He broke off as Brown Eyes sneezed. "Theresee?" he said, jabbing a finger toward the other as if the sneeze was a sort of vindication. "Probably something in here he's allergic to, too. But you still came in, right? And I'll bet I can find something that'd make a really great pet for you."

  The door chime sounded again, and Navett turned to see a thin old woman come in. The fringe companion Klif had mentioned? "Hi, there," he said, nodding to her. "A day of fun and profit to you. Can I help you?"

  "I hope so," she said. "You have any ratter thists?"

  Navett felt his throat tighten. What in blazes was a ratter thist? "Don't think I've ever heard of 'em," he said carefully, knowing better than to pretend knowledge he didn't have. "I can check the lists, though, see if we can get 'em from somewhere. What kind of critter are they?"

  "They're not all that popular, really," the woman said. Her voice was casual, but she was watching him as closely as Green Eyes was. "They're small and agile, with tan-striped fur and retractable claws. They're sometimes used as livestock border guards in mountainous terrain."

  "Oh, sure," Klif called from the far side of the counter. Leaning casually on it, there was no sign of the datapad he undoubtedly had going out of sight under the flat surface. "You're talking about Kordulian krisses."

  "OhKordulian krisses," Navett said with a knowing nod. He'd never heard of those, either, but Klif's cue was obvious. "Sure. I just never heard of 'em by that other name before. Klif, can we get 'em in?"

  "Let me check," Klif said, making a show of pulling the datapad up onto the counter and pretending to turn it on.

  "What are these?" Brown Eyes called. He was standing over the mawkren tank, looking in with a somewhat leery expression.

  "Baby mawkrens," Navett told him, stepping to his side and looking fondly down through the clear plastic at the tiny lizards scrabbling restlessly around on top of each other. "Just whelped this morning. Cute, huh?"

  "Adorable," Brown Eyes said, not sounding like he meant it.

  "Here it is," Klif called. "Kordulian krisses. Let's see..."

  There was a beep from Navett's comlink. " 'Scuse me," he said, pulling out the instrument, a sudden feeling of dread coming over him. If this was the call they were expecting... "Hello?"

  "Is this Proprietor Navett of the Exoticalia Pet Emporium?" a stiff but harried-sounding Bothan voice asked.

  "Sure is," Navett said, striving for earnest-but-stupid cheerfulness. It was the call, all right; and with all the rotten luck it had come with a pair of New Rep agents standing right there listening. "What can I do for you?"

  "We have a small but troublesome insect infestation problem," the Bothan said. "Our attempts to eliminate them have so far proved futile. As a dealer in exotic animals, it was thought you might have some suggestions."

  "Probably," Navett said. "Klif and I did some bug-squash work before we got into the pet business. What kind are they?"

  "They're unfamiliar to our experts," the other said, sounding disgusted. "All we know is that they're very small, do not respond to any of our extermination methods, and at random intervals all begin making a loud humming noise."

  "Could be skronkies," Navett suggested doubtfully. "They make a pretty annoying noise. Or aphrens, orwait a minute. I'll bet they're metalmites. You got any electronics or heavy machinery in the area?"

  There was a sort of strangled sound from the comlink. "A considerable amount of it, yes," the Bothan said. "What do metalmites do?"

  "Chew through metal,"
Navett said. " 'Course, they don't actually chew through the stuffthey've got enzymes that"

  "I don't need the physiological details," the Bothan cut him off. "How do we eliminate them?"

  "Well, let's see," Navett said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully for the benefit of the New Rep agents. Green Eyes had that glint in his eyes again... "First thing you gotta do is some spraying. You got anylet's seeany CorTrehan around? That's cordioline trehansicol, if you need the whole name."

  "I don't know," the Bothan said. "But I'm sure we can get some made up."

  "Before you do, make sure you got someone who knows what they're doing," Navett warned. "Won't do you a bit of good to just slather the stuff around."

  There was a brief pause. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean you can't just slather the stuff around, that's what," Navett said, letting a little impatience creep into his voice. "You gotta get all the spots where they're going to feed, but also leave 'em enough bare spots" He sighed. "Look, this isn't something for amateurs to mess around with. We've got the equipment to spray withwe use 'em to disinfect our cages and stock. You get us the CorTrehan, and Klif and me can do the job for you."

  "Impossible," the Bothan said sharply. "Offworlders cannot be permitted in that area."

  "Oh. Okay." Navett shrugged. He'd expected the automatic rejection of his first offer. "Just trying to help. You'll have plenty of time to get rid of a single brood before it does much damage."

  He frowned, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. "It is just a single brood, isn't it? When they hum, do they all make one note, or are there a couple of different pitches?"

  There was a short pause. "There are several different notes," the Bothan said. "Five, perhaps six."

  Navett let out a low whistle. "Five of 'em? Ho, boy. Hey, Klifthey got five different broods in there. Well, good luck to you. I sure hope you can get someone on 'em before the brood war starts."

  He keyed off the comlink. "Five broods," he murmured, shaking his head. "Wow."

  "Shocking," Green Eyes agreed, the glint still in his eyes. "Pretty exotic pests, metalmites."