Dark Force Rising (Star Wars)

CHAPTER

26

Mon Mothma shook her head in wonderment. "The Katana fleet," she breathed. "After all these years. It's incredible."

"Some might even put it more strongly than that," Fey'lya added coolly, his fur rippling as he gazed hard at Karrde's impassive face. He'd been doing a lot of that throughout the hastily called meeting, Leia had noticed: gazing hard at Karrde, at Luke, at Leia herself. Even Mon Mothma hadn't been left out. "Some might, in fact, have severe doubts that what you're telling us is true at all."

Beside Karrde, Luke shifted in his seat, and Leia could sense his efforts to control his annoyance with the Bothan. But Karrde merely cocked an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that I'm lying to you?"

"What, a smuggler lie?" Fey'lya countered. "What a thought."

"He's not lying," Han insisted, an edge to his voice. "The fleet's been found. I saw some of the ships."

"Perhaps," Fey'lya said, dropping his eyes to the polished surface of the table. Of all those at the meeting, Han had so far been the only one to escape Fey'lya's posturing and his glare. For some reason, the Bothan seemed reluctant to even look at him. "Perhaps not. There are more Dreadnaught cruisers in the galaxy than just the Katana fleet."

"I don't believe this," Luke spoke up at last, looking back and forth between Fey'lya and Mon Mothma. "The Katana fleet's been found, the Empire's going after it, and we're sitting here arguing about it?"

"Perhaps the problem is that you believe too much, or too easily," Fey'lya retorted, turning his gaze on Luke. "Solo tells us the Empire is holding someone who can lead them to these alleged ships. And yet Karrde has said only he knows their location."

"And as I've mentioned at least once today," Karrde said tartly, "the assumption that no one else knew what we'd found was just that: an assumption. Captain Hoffner was a very astute man in his way, and I have no trouble believing that he might have pulled a copy of the coordinates for himself before I erased them."

"I'm glad you have such faith in your former associate," Fey'lya said. "For myself I find it easier to believe that it is Captain Solo who is wrong." His fur rippled. "Or has been deliberately deceived." Beside her, Leia felt Han's mood darken. "You want to explain that, Councilor?" he demanded.

"I think you were lied to," Fey'lya said bluntly, his eyes still not meeting Han's. "I think this contact of yours-who I notice you've been remarkably reluctant to identify-told you a story and dressed it up with false evidence. That piece of machinery you say Calrissian examined could have come from anywhere. And you yourself admitted that you were never actually aboard any of the ships."

"What about that Imperial raid on the Coral Vanda?" Han demanded.

"They thought there was someone there worth grabbing." Fey'lya smiled thinly. "Or else they wanted us to believe that they did. Which they very well might ... if your unnamed contact is in fact working for them."

Leia looked at Han. There was something there, beneath the surface. Some swirl of emotion she couldn't identify. "Han?" she asked quietly.

"No," he said, his eyes still on Fey'lya. "He's not working for the Imperials."

"So you say," Fey'lya sniffed. "You offer little proof of that."

"All right, then," Karrde put in. "Let's assume for the moment that all of this is in fact a giant soap bubble. What would the Grand Admiral stand to gain from it?"

Fey'lya's fur shifted in a gesture Leia decided was probably annoyance. Between her and Karrde they'd pretty well burst the Bothan's theory that Thrawn was not, in fact, an Imperial Grand Admiral; and Fey'lya wasn't taking even that minor defeat well. "I should think that was obvious," he told Karrde stiffly. "How many systems would we have to leave undefended, do you suppose, in order to reassign enough trained personnel to reactivate and transport two hundred Dreadnaughts? No, the Empire has a great deal to gain by hasty action on our part."

"They also have a great deal to gain by our total lack of action," Karrde said, his voice icy cold. "I worked with Hoffner for over two years; and I can tell you right now that it won't take the Imperials a great deal of time to obtain the fleet's location from him. If you don't move quickly, you stand to lose everything."

"If there's anything out there to lose," Fey'lya said. Leia put a warning hand on Han's arm. "That should be easy enough to check," she jumped in before Karrde could respond. "We can send a ship and tech crew out to take a look. If the fleet is there and seems operational, we can start a full-scale salvage effort."

From the look on Karrde's' face she could tell that he thought even that was moving too slowly. But he nodded. "I suppose that's reasonable enough," he said.

Leia looked at Mon Mothma. "Mon Mothma?"

"I agree," the other said. "Councilor Fey'lya, you'll speak to Admiral Drayson at once about assigning an Escort Frigate and two X-wing squadrons to this mission. Preferably a ship already here at Coruscant; we don't want anyone outside the system to get even a hint of what we're doing." Fey'lya inclined his head slightly. "As you wish. Will tomorrow morning be sufficiently early?"

"Yes." Mon Mothma looked at Karrde. "We'll need the fleet's coordinates."

"Of course," Karrde agreed. "I'll supply them tomorrow morning." Fey'lya snorted. "Let me remind you, Captain Karrde-"

"Unless, of course, Councilor," Karrde continued smoothly, "you'd prefer I leave Coruscant tonight and offer the location to the highest bidder."

Fey'lya glared at him, his fur flattening. But there was nothing he could do about it, and he knew it. "In the morning, then," he growled.

"Good," Karrde nodded. "If that's all, then, I believe I'll return to my quarters and rest awhile before dinner."

He looked across at Leia ... and suddenly, there was something different in his face or his sense. She nodded fractionally, and his gaze slid unconcernedly away from her as he stood up. "Mon Mothma; Councilor Fey'lya," he said, nodding to each in turn. "It's been interesting."

"We'll see you in the morning," Fey'lya said darkly. A faintly sardonic smile touched Karrde's lips. "Of course.

"Then I declare this meeting adjourned," Mon Mothma said, making it official.

"Let's go," Leia murmured to Han as the others began collecting their data cards together.

"What's going on?" he murmured back.

"I think Karrde wants to talk," she told him. "Come on-I don't want to get bogged down here talking to Mon Mothma."

"Yeah, well, you go on," Han said, his voice oddly preoccupied. She frowned at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah," he said. His eyes flicked over her shoulder, and she glanced around in time to see Fey'lya stride from the room. "Go on. I'll catch up with you."

"All right," she said, frowning at him.

"It's okay," he assured her, reaching down to squeeze her hand. "I just need to talk to Fey'lya for a minute."

"What about?"

"Personal stuff." He tried one of those lopsided smiles she usually found so endearing. It didn't look nearly so innocent this time as it normally did. "Hey-it's okay," he repeated. "I'm just going to talk to him. Trust me.

"I've heard that before," Leia sighed. But Luke had already left the room, and Karrde was on his way out ... and Mon Mothma had that look about her that signified that she was about to come over and ask Leia for a favor. "Just try to be diplomatic, all right?"

His eyes flicked over her shoulder again. "Sure," he said. "Trust me. Fey'lya was heading down the Grand Corridor toward the Assemblage chamber when Han caught sight of him, walking with that peculiar gait of someone who's in a terrific hurry but doesn't want anyone else to know it.

"Hey!" Han called. "Councilor Fey'lya!" The only response was a brief flush of pale red across the nearest of the line of ch'hala trees. Glowering at the back of Fey'lya's head, Han lengthened his stride, and within a dozen quick paces had caught up with the other. "I'd like a word with you, Councilor," he said. Fey'lya didn't look at him. "We have nothing to discuss," he said.

"Oh, I think we do," Han said, falling into step beside him. "Like maybe trying to find a way out of the jam you're in here."

"I thought your female was the diplomat of the family," Fey'lya sniffed, throwing a sideways look at Han's shirtfront.

"We take turns," Han told him, trying real hard not to dislike the other. "See, what got you into trouble here was trying to play politics by Bothan rules. That bank thing made Ackbar look bad, so like any good Bothan, you jumped on him. Trouble is, no one else jumped with you, so you were left there all alone with your neck stuck way out and your political reputation on the line. You don t know how to back out gracefully, and you figure the only way to salvage your prestige is to make sure Ackbar goes down."

"Indeed?" Fey'lya said acidly. "Did it ever occur to you that I might have stuck my neck out, as you put it, because I truly believed Ackbar was guilty of treason?"

"Not really, no," Han told him. "But a lot of other people think that, and that's what's got your reputation on the line. They can't imagine anyone making such a fuss without some proof."

"What makes you think I haven't any proof?"

"For starters, the fact that you haven't shown it," Han said bluntly.

"Then there's the fact that you sent Breil'lya scrambling out to New Cov to try and make some sort of high-prestige deal with Senator Bel Iblis. That is what Breil'lya was doing out there, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fey'lya muttered.

"Right. And that's the third thing: the fact that five minutes ago you were ready to throw Bel Iblis to the cravers if it would buy you enough time to bring in the Katana fleet."

Abruptly, Fey'lya stopped. "Let me speak frankly with you, Captain Solo," he said, still not looking directly at Han's face. "Whether you understand my motivations or not, I certainly understand yours. You hope to bring the Katana fleet to Coruscant yourself; and with that leverage to force my downfall and Ackbar's reinstatement."

"No," Han said tiredly, shaking his head. "That's the whole point, Councilor. Leia and the others don't play by Bothan rules. They make decisions based on evidence, not prestige. If Ackbar is guilty, he gets punished; if he's innocent, he gets released. It's that simple."

Fey'lya smiled bitterly. "Take my advice, Captain Solo, and stick with smuggling and fighting and other things you understand. The private rules of politics are far beyond you."

"You're making a mistake, Councilor," Han said, trying one last time.

"You can back out now without losing anything-you really can. But if you keep going, you risk bringing the whole New Republic down with you." Fey'lya drew himself up to his full height. "I do not intend to fall, Captain Solo. My supporters among the New Republic military will see to that. Ackbar will fall, and I will rise in his place. Excuse me, now; I must speak with Admiral Drayson."

He turned and stalked off. Han watched him go, the sour taste of defeat in his mouth. Couldn't Fey'lya see what he was doing? That he was risking everything on a single long-shot bet?

Maybe he couldn't. Maybe it took an experienced gambler to see how the odds were stacked here.

Or a politician who wasn't so set in his own system that he couldn't change.

Fey'lya reached the end of the Grand Corridor and headed to the left toward the Admiralty center. Shaking his head, Han turned and headed back toward Karrde's guest quarters. First the Coral Vanda, and now this. He hoped it wasn't the start of a trend.

Mara stood at the window of her room, staring out at the Manarai Mountains in the distance, feeling the oppressive weight of black memories gathering around her mind. The Imperial Palace. After five years, she was back in the Imperial Palace. Scene of important governmental meetings, glittering social functions, dark and private intrigues. The place where her life had effectively begun.

The place where she'd been when it had ended.

Her fingernails grated across the carved swirls of the window frame as well-remembered faces rose before her: Grand Admiral Thrawn, Lord Vader, Grand Moff Tarkin, advisers and politicians and sycophants by the hundreds. But above them all was the image of the Emperor. She could see him in her mind's eye as clearly as if he were staring in at her through the window, his wrinkled face frowning, his yellow-tinged eyes bright with anger and disapproval.

YOU WILL KILL LUKE SKYWALKER

"I'm trying," she whispered to the words echoing through her mind. But even as she said it she wondered if it were really true. She'd helped save Skywalker's life on Myrkr; had come begging for his help on Jomark; and had now uncomplainingly come to Coruscant with him.

She wasn't in any danger. Neither was Karrde. There was no way she could think of why Skywalker would be useful to either her or any of Karrde's people.

She had, in short, no excuses left.

From the next room over came the faint sound of a door opening and closing: Karrde, returned from his meeting. Turning from the window, glad of an excuse to drop this line of thought, she headed toward the door connecting their rooms.

Karrde got there first. "Mara?" he said, opening the door and poking his head through. "Come in here, please."

He was standing by the room's computer terminal when she arrived. One look at his face was all she needed. "What's gone wrong?" she asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," he said, pulling a data card from the terminal's copy slot. "That Bothan on the Council put up a surprising amount of resistance to our offer. He basically forced Mon Mothma to hold off on any serious retrieval mission until the location's been checked out. He's getting a ship set up now for a morning flight."

Mara frowned. "A double-cross?"

"Possibly, but I can't see any point to it." Karrde shook his head.

"Thrawn already has Hoffner. He'll get to the fleet soon enough. No, I think it more likely Fey'lya's playing internal politics here, perhaps connected to his campaign against Admiral Ackbar. But I'd rather not take any chances."

"I've heard stories about internal Bothan politics," Mara agreed grimly. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to leave tonight for the Trogon system," he said, handing her the data card. "Best guess is that's where Aves will have holed up. Make contact and tell him I want everything we have that can both fly and fight to rendezvous with me at the Katana fleet as soon as possible." Mara took the card gingerly, her fingers tingling at the touch of the cool plastic. There it was, in her hands: the Katana fleet. A lifetime's worth of wealth or power ... "I may have trouble persuading Aves to trust me," she warned.

"I don't think so," Karrde said. "The Imperials will have reinstated the hunt for our group by now-that alone should convince him I've escaped. There's also a special recognition code on that data card that he'll know, a code the Grand Admiral couldn't possibly have extracted from me this quickly."

"Let's hope he doesn't have a higher opinion of Imperial interrogation methods than you do," Mara said, sliding the data card into her tunic. "Anything else?"

"No-yes," Karrde corrected himself. "Tell Ghent I'd like him to come to Coruscant instead of going to the Katana fleet. I'll meet him here after all this is over."

"Ghent?" Mara frowned. "Why?"

"I want to see what a really expert slicer can do with that suspicious lump in Ackbar's bank account. Skywalker mentioned a theory that the break-in and deposit happened at the same time, but he said that so far no one's been able to prove it. I'm betting Ghent can do so."

"I thought this involvement in New Republic politics was supposed to be a one-shot deal," Mara objected.

"It is," Karrde nodded. "I don't want to leave an ambitious Bothan at my back when we leave."

"Point," she had to concede. "All right. You have a ship for me to use?"

There was a tap at the door. "I will in a minute," Karrde said, crossing to the door and pulling it open.

It was Skywalker's sister. "You wanted to see me?" she asked.

"Yes," Karrde nodded in greeting. "I believe you know my associate, Mara Jade?"

"We met briefly when you arrived on Coruscant," Organa Solo nodded. For a moment her eyes met Mara's, and Mara wondered uneasily how much Skywalker had told her.

"I need Mara to go on an errand for me," Karrde said, glancing both directions down the corridor before closing the door. "She'll need a fast, long-range ship."

"I can get her one," Organa Solo said. "Will a reconnaissance Y-wing do, Mara?"

"That'll be fine," Mara said shortly.

"I'll call the spaceport and make arrangements." She looked back at Karrde. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Karrde said. "I want to know if you can throw together a tech team and get it into space tonight."

"Councilor Fey'lya's already sending a team," she reminded him.

"I know that. I want yours to get there first." She studied him a moment. "How big a team do you want?"

"Nothing too elaborate," Karrde told her. "A small transport or freighter, perhaps a starfighter squadron if you can find one that doesn't mind risking official wrath. The point is not to have Fey'lya's presumablly handpicked crew the only ones there."

Mara opened her mouth; closed it again without speaking. If Karrde wanted Organa Solo to know that his own people would also be coming, he would tell her himself. Karrde glanced at her, back at Organa Solo. "Can you do it?"

"I think so," she said. "Fey'lya has built up a lot of support in the military, but there are enough people who would rather have Admiral Ackbar back in charge."

"Here are the coordinates," Karrde said, handing her a data card.

"The sooner you can get the team moving, the better."

"It'll be gone in two hours," Organa Solo promised.

"Good," Karrde nodded, his face hardening. "There's just one more thing, then. I want you to understand that there are exactly two reasons why I'm doing this. First, as gratitude to your brother for risking his life to help Mara rescue me; and second, to get the Imperials off my back by eliminating their chief reason to hunt me down. That's all. As far as your war and your internal politics are concerned, my organization intends to remain completely neutral. Is that clear?"

Organa Solo nodded. "Very clear," she said.

"Good. You'd better get moving, then. It's a long way to the fleet, and, you'll want as much head start on Fey'lya as you can get."

"Agreed." Organa Solo looked at Mara. "Come on, Mara. Let's get you your ship."

The comm beside Wedge Antilles' bunk buzzed its annoying call-up signal. Groaning under his breath, he groped in the darkness and slapped in the general direction of the switch. "Come on, give me a break, huh?" he pleaded. "I'm still running on Ando time."

"It's Luke, Wedge," a familiar voice said. "Sorry to drag you out of bed, but I need a favor. You feel like maybe getting your people into some trouble?"

"When aren't we in trouble?" Wedge countered, coming fully awake.

"What's the deal?"

"Get your pilots together and meet me at the spaceport in an hour," Luke told him. "Docking Pad 15. We've got an old transport; we should be able to fit all your X-wings aboard."

"It's a long trip, then?"

"A few days," Luke said. "I can't tell you any more than that right now."

"You're the boss," Wedge said. "We'll be there in one hour."

"See you then. And thanks."

Wedge keyed off and rolled out of bed, feeling a stirring of old excitement. He'd seen a lot of action in the decade he'd been with the Rebellion and New Republic; a lot of flying, a lot of fighting. But somehow, the missions he remembered as being the most interesting always seemed to be the ones where Luke Skywalker was also involved. He wasn't sure why; maybe Jedi just had a knack for that.

He hoped so. Between politics on Coruscant and cleaning up after Imperial raids across the New Republic, things were getting more and more frustrating around here. A change would do him good.

Keying on the light, he pulled a fresh tunic out of his wardrobe and started getting dressed.

There was no problem getting the midnight transport off Coruscant; Leia's authorization guaranteed that. But a freighter with a cargo consisting of a dozen X-wings was unusual enough to spark comment and speculation ... and it was inevitable that the speculation would eventually reach the ears of one of Fey'lya's supporters.

By morning, he knew everything.

"This goes well beyond internal political infighting," he snarled at Leia, his fur rippling back and forth like short stalks of grain caught in a succession of dust devils. "It was blatantly illegal. If not treasonous."

"I'm not sure I'd go quite that far," Mon Mothma said. But she looked troubled. "Why did you do it, Leia?"

"She did it because I asked her to," Karrde put in calmly. "And since the Katana fleet is technically not yet under New Republic jurisdiction, I don't see, how any activity related to it can be considered illegal."

"We'll explain proper legal procedure to you later, smuggler," Fey'lya said acidly. "Right now, we have a serious breach of security to deal with. Mon Mothma, I request an executive order be made out for Solo's and Skywalker's arrest."

Even Mon Mothma seemed taken aback by that one. "An arrest order?"

"They know where the Katana fleet is," Fey'lya bit out. "None of their group has been cleared for that information. They must be sequestered until the fleet has been entirely brought into New Republic possession.

"I hardly think that will be necessary," Leia said, throwing a look at Karrde. "Han and Luke have both handled classified information in the past-"

"This is not the past," Fey'lya interrupted her. "This is the present; and they have not been cleared." His fir flattened. "Under the circumstances, I think I Lad best take personal charge of this mission. Leia threw a look at Karrde, saw her own thought reflected in his face. If Fey'lya was able to personally bring back the Katana fleet-"You're certainly welcome to come along, Councilor," Karrde told the Bothan.

"Councilor Organa Solo and I will appreciate your company." It took a second for that to register. "What are you talking about?" Fey'lya demanded. "No one's authorized either of you to come along."

"I'm authorizing it, Councilor," Karrde said coldly. "The Katana fleet is still mine, and will remain so until the New Republic takes possession of it. Until then, I make the rules."

Fey'lya's fur flattened again, and for a moment Leia thought the Bothan was going to launch himself physically at Karrde's throat. "We will not forget, this, smuggler," he hissed instead. "Your time will come." Karrde smiled sardonically. "Perhaps. Shall we go?"

CHAPTER

27

The proximity alert warbled, and Luke straightened up in his seat. After five days, they'd made it. "here we go," he said. "You ready?"

"You know me, Han said from the pilot's seat beside him. "I'm always ready."

Luke threw a sideways glance at his friend. To all outward appearances, Han seemed perfectly normal, or at least as close to it as he ever got. But beneath the casual flippancy Luke had noticed something else over the past few days: a darker, almost brooding sense that had been with him since they left Coruscant. It was there now; and as he studied Han's face, Luke could see the tension lines there. "You all right?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, sure. Fine." The lines tightened a little further. "But just once I'd like them to find someone else to go off on these little jaunts across the galaxy. You know Leia and I didn't even get a day together? We didn't see each other for a whole month; and we didn't even get a day." Luke sighed. "I know," he said. "Sometimes I feel like I've been running full speed since we blasted out of Tatooine with the droids and Ben Kenobi way lack when."

Han shook his head. "I hadn't seen her for a month," he repeated.

"She looks twice as pregnant as she did when she left. I don't even know what happened to her and Chewie out there-all she had time to tell me was that those Noghri things are on our side now. Whatever that means. I can't get anything out of Chewie, either. Says it's her story, and that she should tell it herself. I'm about ready to strangle him."

Luke shrugged. "You have to face it, Han. We're just too good at what we do."

Han snorted. But some of the tension left his face. "Yeah. Right."

"More to the point, I guess, we're on the list of people Leia knows she can trust," Luke continued more seriously. "Until we find that information tap the Empire's got into the Imperial Palace, that list is going to stay pretty short."

"Yeah." Han grimaced. "Someone told me the Imperials call it Delta Sourse. You got any ideas who or what it might be?"

Luke shook his head. "Not really. Got to be close in to the Assemblage, though. Maybe even to the Council. One thing's for sure-we'd better get busy and find it."

"Yeah." Han stirred and reached for the hyperdrive levers. "Get ready

..."

He pulled the levers; and a moment later they were again in the blackness of deep space. "Here we are," Han announced.

"Right." Luke looked around, an involuntary shiver running up his back. "Dead center in the middle of nowhere."

"Should be a familiar feeling for you," Han suggested, keying for a sensor scan.

"Thanks," Luke said, "but getting stuck between systems with a d,e,ad hyperdrive isn't something I want to get familiar with."

"I didn't mean that," Han said innocently as he keyed the comm. "I was talking about Tatooine. Wedge?"

"Right here," the other's voice came over the "Looks like we've got a target at oh-four-seven mark one-six-six," Han told him. "You ready to fly?"

"Ready and eager."

"Okay." Han took a last look out the viewport and keyed the cargo hatch release. "Go."

Luke craned his neck to look in the direction Han had indicated. At first all he could see was the normal scattering of stars, achingly bright against the total blackness around them. And then he saw them: the softer glow of a ship's running lights. His eyes traced the empty space between them, his brain forcing a pattern to the lights; and suddenly the image coalesced. "It's a Dreadnaught, all right."

"There's another one just past it," Han said. "And three more to port and a little below."

Luke nodded as he located them, a strange tingle running through him. The Katana fleet. Only now did he realize just how little he'd really believed in the fleet's existence. "Which one do we check out?" he asked.

"Might as well take the closest," Han said.

"No," Luke said slowly, trying to focus on the vague impression tingling through him. "No. Let's try...that one over there." He pointed to a set of running lights a few kilometers farther away.

"Any particular reason?"

"I don't really know," Luke had to admit. He could feel Han's eyes on him. Then the other shrugged. "Okay," he said. "Sure. We'll take that one. Wedge, you getting all this?"

"Copy, transport," Wedge's voice confirmed. "We're shifting into escort formation around you. So far it looks clean."

"Good," Han said. "Stay sharp anyway." He keyed the transport's intercom into the circuit and glanced at his chrono. "Lando? Where are you?"

"Just inside the cargo hatch," the other answered. "We've got the sled loaded and ready to go.

"Okay," Han said. "We're heading in." They were approaching their target Dreadnaught now, close enough that Luke could see the faint outline of reflected starlight that marked the edge of the hull. Roughly cylindrical in shape, with a half dozen weapons blisters arranged around its midsection and a bow that he'd heard once described as a giant clam with an overbite, the ship looked almost quaintly archaic. But it was a false impression. The Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser had been the backbone of the Old Republic's fleet; and while it might not look as sleek as the Imperial Star Destroyer that had replaced it, its massive turbolaser batteries still packed an awesome punch. "How do we get aboard?" he asked Han.

"There's the main docking bay," Han said, pointing to a dim rectangle of lights. "We'll take the ship inside."

Luke looked at the rectangle doubtfully. "If it's big enough." His fears proved groundless. The entrance to the docking bay was larger than it had appeared, and the bay itself even more so. With casual skill Han brought the transport in, swiveled it around to face the opening, and put it down on the deck. "Okay," he said, keying the systems to standby and unstrapping. "Let's get this over with."

Lando, Chewbacca, and the four-man tech team were waiting at the cargo hatchway when Han and Luke arrived, the techs looking somewhat ill at ease with the unaccustomed blasters belted awkwardly to their sides. "Checked the air yet, Anselm?" Han asked.

"It looks fine," the head of the tech team reported, offering Han a data pad for inspection. "Better than it should be after all these years. Must still be some droids on housekeeping duty."

Han glanced at the analysis, handed back the data pad, and nodded to Chewbacca. "Okay, Chewie, open the hatch. Tomrus, you drive the sled. Watch out for blank spots in the gravity plates-we don't want you bouncing the sled off the ceiling."

The air in the bay had a strangely musty odor about it; a combination of oil and dust, Luke decided, with a slight metallic tang. But it was fresh enough otherwise. "Pretty impressive," he commented as the group walked behind the repulsorlift sled toward the main hatchway. "Especially after all this time."

"Those full-rig computer systems were designed to last," Lando said.

"So what's the plan, Han?"

"I guess we split up," Han said. "You and Chewie take Anselm, Tomrus, and the sled and go check out engineering. We'll head up to the bridge." For Luke, it was one of the eeriest trips of his life, precisely because it all looked so normal. The lights in the wide corridors were all working properly, as were the gravity plates and the rest of the environment system. Doors leading off the corridor slid open automatically whenever any of the group strayed close enough to trigger them, revealing glimpses of perfectly maintained machine shops, equipment rooms, and crew lounges. The faint mechanical noises of idling systems whispered behind the sound of their own footsteps, and occasionally they glimpsed an ancient droid still going about its business. To all appearances, the ship might just as well have been abandoned yesterday.

But it hadn't been. The ships had been floating here in the blackness for half a century ... and their crews had not left, but had died here in agony and madness. Looking down empty cross corridors as they walked, Luke wondered what the maintenance droids had made of it all as they cleared away the bodies.

The bridge was a long walk from the docking bay. But eventually they made it. "Okay, we're here," Han announced into his comlink as the blast doors between the bridge and the monitor anteroom behind it opened with only minor grating sounds. "Doesn't seem to be any obvious damage. What have you got on the sublight engines?"

"Doesn't look good," Lando reported. "Tomrus says that six of the eight main power converters have been knocked out of alignment. He's still running a check, but my guess is this tub's not going anywhere without a complete overhaul."

"Ask me if I'm surprised," Han countered dryly. "What about the hyperdrive? Any chance we can at least fly it somewhere in towing range of a shipyard?"

"Anselm is looking into that," Lando said. "Personally, I wouldn't trust it that far."

"Yeah. Well, we're just here to look the thing over, not get it moving. We'll see what kind of control systems we've got left up here and that'll be it."

Luke glanced up at the space over the blast doors. Paused for a second look at the elaborate name plaque fastened there. "It's the Katana," he murmured.

"What?" Han craned his neck for a look. "Huh." He looked oddly at Luke. "Was that why you wanted this one?"

Luke shook his head. "I guess so. It was just intuition through the Force."

"Han, Luke," Wedge's voice cut in suddenly. "We've got incoming." Luke felt his heart jump. "Where?"

"Vector two-ten mark twenty-one. Configuration ... it's an Escort Frigate."

Luke let out a quiet breath. "Better give them a call," he said. "Let them know where we are.

"Actually, they're calling us," Wedge said. "Hang on; I'll patch it through."

"-tain Solo, this is Captain Virgilio of the Escort Frigate Quenfis," a new voice came over Han's comlink. "Do you read?"

"Solo here," Han said. "Calling from aboard the Old Republic ship Katana-"

"Captain Solo, I regret to inform you that you and your party are under arrest," Virgilio cut him off. "You will return to your own vessel at once and prepare to surrender."

Virgilio's words, and the stunned silence that followed, echoed through the command observation deck above and behind the Quenfis's bridge. Seated at the main board, Fey'lya threw a mocking smile at Leia, a slightly less insolent one at Karrde, then returned his attention to the distant X-wing drive trails. "They don't seem to be taking you seriously, Captain," he said toward the intercom. "Perhaps lauching your X-wing squadrons would convince them we're serious."

"Yes, Councilor," Virgilio said briskly, and Leia strained her ears in vain for any signs of resentment in that voice. Most of the warship captains she'd known would be highly annoyed at the prospect of taking line orders from a civilian, particularly a civilian with negligible military experience of his own. But then, Fey'lya would hardly have picked the Quenfis for this mission if Virgilio hadn't been one of his staunchest backers. Just one more indication, if she'd needed it, as to who was really in charge here.

"X-wings: launch."

There were a series of dull thuds as the two squadrons of starfighters left the ship. "Captain Solo, this is Captain Virgilio. Please respond."

"Captain, this is Wing Commander Wedge Antilles of Rogue Squadron," Wedge's voice cut in. "May I ask your authorization to order our arrest?"

"Allow me, Captain," Fey'lya said, touching the comm switch on the board behind him. "This is Councilor Borsk Fey'lya, Commander Antilles," he said. "Though I doubt you're aware of it, Captain Solo is operating illegally."

"I'm sorry, Councilor," Wedge said, "but I don't understand how that can be. Our orders came from Councilor Leia Organa Solo."

"And these new orders come directly from Mon Mothma," Fey'lya told him. "Therefore, your authorization is-"

"Can you prove that?"

Fey'lya seemed taken aback. "I have the order sitting here in front of me, Commander," he said. "You're welcome to examine it once you're aboard."

"Commander, for the moment the origin of the arrest order is irrelevant," Virgilio put in, annoyance starting to creep into his voice. "As a superior officer, I order you to surrender and bring your squadron aboard my ship."

There was a long silence. Leia threw a look at Karrde, seated a quarter of the way around the observation deck from her. But his attention was turned outward through the transparisteel bubble, his face impassive. Perhaps he was remembering the last time he'd been to this spot. "What if I refuse?" Wedge asked at last.

"Forget it, Wedge," Han's voice cut in. "It's not worth risking a court martial over. Go on, we don't need you anymore. Nice hearing from you, Fey'lya." There was the faint click of a disconnecting comlink "Solo!" Fey'lya barked, leaning over the comm as if that would do any good. "Solo!" He turned and glared at Leia. "Get over here," he ordered her, jabbing a finger at the comm. "I want him back." Leia shook her head. "Sorry, Councilor. Han won't listen to anyone when he's like this."

Fey'lya's fur flattened. "I'll ask you one more time, Councilor. If you refuse-"

He never had a chance to finish the threat. Something flickered at the edge of Leia's peripheral vision; and even as she turned to look, the Quenfis's alarms went off. "What-?" Fey'lya yelped, jerking in his seat and looking frantically around him.

"It's an Imperial Star Destroyer," Karrde told him over the blaring of the alarms. "And it appears to be coming this way.

"We got company, Rogue Leader," one of Wedge's X-wing pilots snapped as the sound of the Quenfis's alarms came hooting over the comm. "Star Destroyer; bearing one-seven-eight mark eighty-six."

"Got it," Wedge said, turning his ship away from its confrontation with the Quenfis's approaching starfighters and bringing it around in a tight one-eighty. It was a Star Destroyer, all right: almost straight across from the Quenfis, with the Katana dead center between them. "Luke?" he called.

"We see it," Luke's voice came back tightly. "We're heading for the docking bay now.

"Right-hold it," Wedge interrupted himself. Against the dark bulk of the Star Destroyer's lower hull a large group of drive trails had suddenly appeared. "They're launching," he told the other. "Twelve marks-drop ships, probably, from the look of the drive trails.

"So we hurry," Han's voice came on. "Thanks for the warning; now get back to the Quenfis."

The comlink clicked and went dead. "Like blazes we will," Wedge muttered under his breath. "Rogue Squadron: let's go." Captain Virgilio was trying to say something on the open channel. Switching to his squadron's private frequency, Wedge kicked the X-wing's drive to full power and set off toward the Katana.

In the near distance, just beyond the drive trails of the Quenfis's X-wings, Rogue Squadron turned and blazed off in the direction of the Star Destroyer. "They're going to attack," Fey'lya breathed. "They must be insane."

"They're not attacking-they're running cover," Leia told him, staring at the scenario unfolding outside the bubble and trying to estimate interception points. It was going to be far too close. "We need to get over there and back them up," she said. "Captain Virgilio-"

"Captain Virgilio, you'll recall your X-wings at once," Fey'lya cut her off. "Navigation will prepare to make the jump to lightspeed."

"Councilor?" Virgilio asked, his voice sounding stunned. "Are you suggesting we abandon them?"

"Our duty, Captain, is to get out of here alive and sound the alarm," Fey'lya countered sharply. "If Rogue Squadron insists on defying orders, there's nothing we can do for them."

Leia was on her feet. "Captain-"

Fey'lya was quicker, slapping off the intercom before she could speak. "I'm in charge here, Councilor," he said as she started toward him.

"Authorized by Mon Mothma herself."

"To blazes with your authority," Leia snapped. For a handful of heartbeats she had the almost overwhelming urge to snatch her lightsaber from her belt and send it slicing through that bland face...

With an effort, she choked the urge down. Violent hatred was the path of the dark side. "Mon Mothma didn't anticipate anything like this happening," she said, fighting to keep her voice as calm as she could. "Fey'lya, that's my husband and my brother out there. If we don't help them, they'll die.

"And if we do help them, they'll most likely still die," Fey'lya said coolly. "And your unborn children along with them." An icy knife jabbed at Leia's heart. "That's not fair," she whispered.

"Reality is not required to be fair," Fey'lya said. "And the reality in this case is that I will not waste men and ships on a lost cause."

"It's not lost!" Leia insisted, her voice breaking with desperation as she threw a look out the bubble. No; it couldn't end like this. Not after all she and Han had survived together. She took another step toward Fey'lya "The Quenfis will withdraw," the Bothan said quietly; and suddenly, from some hiding place within the cream-colored fur, a blaster appeared in his hand. "And neither you nor anyone else is going to change that."

"Report from sensors, Captain," the officer at the Judicator's scan station called up to the command walkway. "All the other Dreadnaughts in the region read negative for life-forms."

"So they're concentrating on just the one," Captain Brandei nodded.

"That's where we'll hit, then. The Rebels will be in far less of a hurry to open fire on a ship that has their own people aboard. Still just the one starfighter squadron moving to intercept?"

"Yes, sir. The Escort Frigate and other two squadrons haven't yet responded. They must have been caught off guard."

"Perhaps." Brandei permitted himself a slight smile. So it always went with rebels. They fought like crazed animals when they had nothing to lose; but give them a taste of victory and a chance to enjoy the spoils of war and suddenly they weren't nearly so eager to risk their lives anymore. One of many reasons why the Empire would ultimately defeat them. "Order the drop ships into defense formation," he instructed the communications officer. "And have Starfighter Command launch two squadrons of TIE fighters to intercept those X-wings."

He smiled again. "And send a message to the, Chimaera. Inform the Grand Admiral that we have engaged the enemy."

For a long minute Han gazed out the bridge observation bubble at the approaching Imperial ships, doing a quick estimate of times and distances and ignoring the fidgeting tech men waiting nervously at the bridge doorway.

"Shouldn't we be going?" Luke prompted from beside him. Han came to a decision. "We're not leaving," he said, thumbing on his comlink. "We'd get the transport out of the docking bay just in time to run into those drop ships and TIE fighters. Lando?"

"Right here," Lando's voice came tensely back.

"What's happening out there?"

"Imperials on the way," Han told him, moving over to the bridge fire-control panel and gesturing the techs to join him. "Rogue Squadron's moving to intercept, but it sounds like Fey'lya's crowd is going to run for it."

Lando swore under his breath. "We can't just sit here and let Wedge tackle them alone."

"We're not going to," Han assured him grimly. "Get busy back there and see what shape the power coupling to the turbolaser batteries is in. We'll check the fire control up here. And make it fast-once they break formation we won't be able to hit them."

"Right."

Han stuck the comlink back in his belt. "How's it look, Shen?"

"Looks pretty solid," the tech's muffled voice came from underneath the control board. "Kline?"

"Connections look good here, too," the other tech reported from a board across the room. "If we can get the computer to enable the system ... there we go." He looked at Han. "You're all set." Han sat down at the weapons panel, running his eyes over the unfamiliar arrangement of the controls and wondering if all this effort was more than just spitting in vacuum. Even these full-rigged, computer-centralized, slave-circuit-equipped Dreadnaughts still required over two thousand people to fly them.

But the Imperials wouldn't be expecting a derelict ship to fire. He hoped. "Here we go," he muttered to himself as he keyed for visual targeting. The drop ships were still flying in tight formation, using their overlapping shields to protect them from any loose shots from the approaching X-wings. The faster TIE fighters had caught up with them now, sweeping around the group on all sides and starting to pass them.

"You've got just one shot at this," Luke murmured.

"Thanks," Han growled. "I really needed to hear that." He took a deep breath, held it, and gently squeezed the fire control triggers. The Katana lurched, and as the multiple blazes of turbolaser light flashed outward he felt the double thud of a disintegrating capacitor bank through the deck. Luke had been right-the ship's first shot had been its last. But it had been worth it. The laser bolts hit the drop ship formation dead center; and suddenly the whole Imperial force seemed to come apart in a blaze of multiple explosions. For a few seconds everything was hidden behind secondary explosions and clouds of debris. Then, through the destruction, a handful of ships shot out. A few more joined them, this group moving with the distinctive limp of damaged property.

"Looks like you took out five of the drop ships," Kline reported, peering through a set of macrobinoculars pressed tightly against his face. "A few of the TIE fighters, too.

"They're going into evasive maneuvers," Luke added.

"Okay," Han said, getting up from the chair and pulling out his comlink. "That's it for that game. Lando?"

"Whatever you just did, it made a real mess back here," the other's voice came back. "Took out the firecontrol power coupling and at least one of the generators. What now?"

"We get ready for a boarding party," Han told him. "Meet us in the portside main corridor just forward of the docking bay. We'll see what kind of defense we can set up."

"Right."

Han shut down the comlink. "Let's go," he said.

"This had better be some defense," Luke commented as they left the bridge and headed back down the portside corridor. "Especially when we're talking maybe forty-to-one odds."

Han shook his head. "Never tell me the odds," he admonished the other, glancing at his chrono. It could be any time now. "Besides, you never know when the odds are going to change."

"We can't just abandon them," Leia said again, dimly aware that she was talking to Fey'lya as if he were a child. "That's my husband and brother out there, and a dozen good X-wing pilots. We can't just leave them to the Imperials."

"One mustn't place personal considerations above one's duty to the New Republic, Councilor," Fey'lya said. His fur rippled, perhaps with appreciation of his own insight. But the blaster in his hand remained steady.

"Surely you understand that."

"It's not just personal considerations," Leia insisted, fighting hard to keep from losing her temper again. "It's-"

"One moment," Fey'lya interrupted her, touching the intercom switch.

"Captain? How soon to lightspeed?"

"Another minute," Virgilio's voice came back. "Perhaps two."

"As quickly as you can, Captain," Fey'lya said. He shut the intercom off again and looked back at Leia. "You were saying, Councilor?" Leia consciously unclenched her teeth. If Fey'lya's aim would only shift-even a little-she might be able to risk jumping him. But as matters stood, she was helpless. Her rudimentary abilities with the Force weren't nearly strong enough for her to grab or deflect the blaster, and he was nearly a meter out of reach of her lightsaber. "Han and Luke are vitally important to the New Republic," she said. "If they die or are captured-"

"The Katana's firing," Karrde commented calmly, getting to his feet as if for a better view.

Leia glanced out the bubble as the distant Imperial ships were engulfed briefly in flame. "They know a great deal about the workings of the New Republic, Fey'lya. Do you want the Empire to get that knowledge?"

"I'm afraid you're missing the Councilor's point, Leia," Karrde said, walking over to where she sat. He passed in front of her, dropping a data pad casually onto the tracking console beside her as he did so. "You're concerned about your family, of course," he continued, walking on a couple of paces before turning to face Fey'lya. "Councilor Fey'lya has a different set of priorities."

"I'm sure he does," Leia said, her mouth suddenly dry as she looked sideways at the data pad Karrde had set down. On its screen was a short message.

Turn on the intercom and conn.

She looked up again. Fey'lya's blaster was still pointed at her, but the Bothan's violet eyes were turned toward Karrde. Setting her teeth, Leia focused on the board behind him and reached out with the Force ... and without even a click the intercom was on. Another effort and the comm was, too. "I don't understand," she said to Karrde. "What other priorities could Councilor Fey'lya have?"

"It's simple enough," Karrde said. "Councilor Fey'lya is motivated solely by his own political survival. He's running away from the fight because he's put his most ardent supporters aboard this ship and he can't afford to lose any of them."

Leia blinked. "He's what? But I thought-"

"That this was the normal crew of the Quenfis?" Karrde shook his head. "Not at all. The captain and senior officers are all that remain, and they were mostly on his side in the first place. That's why Fey'lya wanted a few hours before leaving Coruscant: so that he could shift duty assignments around and make sure everyone aboard was fully loyal to him." He smiled thinly. "Not that any of them realized that, of course. They were given the impression that it was a special security arrangement."

Leia nodded, feeling cold all over. So it wasn't just the captain. The entire ship was on Fey'lya's side.

Which meant it was over, and she had lost. Even if she was somehow able to take out Fey'lya himself she had lost.

"So you can imagine," Karrde went on off handedly, "how reluctant Fey'lya is to risk losing any of them over anything so outmoded as loyalty to one's comrades. Especially after having worked so hard to convince them of how much he cared for the average fighting man."

Leia threw Karrde a sharp look, suddenly seeing where he was going with this. "Is that true, Councilor?" she asked Fey'lya, putting disbelief in her voice. "All this talk about being on the side of the military was nothing more than a play for political power?"

"Don't be foolish, Councilor," Fey'lya said, fur rippling with contempt. "What other use are soldiers to a politician?"

"Is that why you don't care if the men of Rogue Squadron die?" Karrde asked. "Because they prefer to stay out of politics?"

"No one cares if their enemies die," Fey'lya said coldly. "And all those who are not on my side are my enemies. He gestured with his bllaster. "I trust, Captain Karrde, that I need not say more."

Karrde raised his eyes from Fey'lya to the view outside. "No, Councilor." he said. "I believe you've said enough." Leia followed his gaze. Between the Quenfis and the Katana, in twos and threes, Fey'lya's X-wing squadrons were heading to Wedge's support. Deserting the politician who had just defined the limits of his consideration for their welfare. "Yes," she murmered. "You've said enough." Fey'lya frowned at her; but even as he started to speak the door to the bridge slid open. Captain Virgilio stood there, flanked by two soldiers.

"Councilor Fey'lya," he said stiffly. "I respectfully request you return to your quarters. These men will accompany you."

Fey'lya's fur flattened. "I don't understand, Captain."

"We're closing off this room, sir," Virgilio said, his voice respectful but with an edge. Stepping over to the Bothan's seat, he leaned toward the intercom. "This is the captain," he called. "All hands to battle stations."

The alarm, promptly went off ... and in Fey'lya's eyes Leia could see the sudden shock of understanding. "Captain-"

"You see, Councilor, some of us don't consider loyalty to be all that outmoded," Virgilio cut him, turning turning to Leia. "Councilor Organa Solo, I'd like you to join me on the bridge at your convenience. We've called for a Star Cruiser to back us up, but it'll take awhile to get here."

"We'll just have to hold them until then," Leia said, standing up. She looked at Karrde. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Not for you or your war," Karrde warned her. "Mara and my people could be arriving at any time. I'd just as soon they not be facing a Star Destroyer alone."

"They won't," Virgilio said. "Councilor?"

"It's a lost cause," Fey'lya said, trying one last time as he surrendered his blaster to one of the soldiers.

"That's all right," Virgilio said, smiling tightly. "The whole Rebellion was considered nothing more than a lost cause. Excuse me, Councilor: I have a battle to run."

The Chimaera was touring the region Pellaeon had privately dubbed the Depot when the report from the aJudicator came in. "Interesting," Thrawn commented. "They've responded faster than I'd expected."

"Karrde must have decided to be generous," Pellaeon said, skimming the follow-up report. Five drop ships and three TIE fighters destroyed; one of the Dreadnaughts apparently under Rebellion control and joining battle. It looked like a major scrap was shaping up out there. "I recommend we send another Star Destroyer to assist, Admiral," he said. "The Rebellion may have larger ships on the way."

"We'll go ourselves, Captain," Thrawn said. "Navigation: set us a course back to the Katana fleet."

The navigation officer didn't move. He sat at his station, his back to them, unnaturally stiff. "Navigation?" Thrawn repeated.

"Admiral, message coming through from the sentry line," the comm officer reported suddenly. "Unidentified Lancer-class Frigate has entered the system and is approaching. They insist on speaking with you, personally and immediately."

Thrawn's glowing eyes narrowed as he tapped the comm switch ... and suddenly Pellaeon realized who it must be aboard that ship. "This is Thrawn," the Grand Admiral said. "Master C'baoth, I presume?"

"You presume correctly," C'baoth's voice boomed from the speaker. "I would speak with you, Grand Admiral. Now."

"We're on our way to assist the aJudicator," Thrawn said, his eyes flicking to the still-motionless nav officer. "As you perhaps already know. When we return-"

"Now, Grand Admiral."

Moving quietly in the brittle silence, Pellaeon keyed for a course projection on C'baoth's ship. "It'll take at least fifteen minutes to bring him aboard," he murmured.

Thrawn hissed softly between his teeth; and Pellaeon knew what he was thinking. In the fluid situation of a spontaneous battle, a fifteen-minute delay could easily be the difference between victory and defeat. "Captain, order the Peremptory to assist the Judicator," the Grand Admiral said at last.

"We'll remain here to consult our ally."

"Thank you, Grand Admiral," C'baoth said; and abruptly, the nav officer gasped and slumped in his chair. "I appreciate your generosity." Thrawn reached to his board, and with a vicious flick of his wrist cut off the comm. He looked down into the crew pit and motioned to two bridge guards. "Sick bay," he told them, indicating the now-shivering nav officer.

"Where do you suppose C'baoth found that Lancer?" Pellaeon murmured as the guards helped the nav officer out of his seat and carried him aft.

"He most likely hijacked it," Thrawn said, his voice tight. "He's been sending messages for us over distances of several light-years, and he certainly knows how to take control of people. Apparently, he's learned how to meld the two abilities."

Pellaeon looked down into the crew pit, a shiver running up his back.

"I'm not sure I like that sir."

"I don't much like it myself, Captain," Thrawn agreed, turning his head to look out the viewport. "It may be time," he added thoughtfully, "to reconsider our arrangement with Master C'baoth. To reconsider it very carefully."

CHAPTER

28

The Katana's turbolasers flashed, disintegrating the center of the Imperials' drop ship formation, and one of Wedge's X-wing pilots gave a war whoop. "Will you look at that?"

"Cut the chatter, Rogue Seven," Wedge admonished, trying to see through the cloud of flaming debris. The Imperials had gotten a bloody nose, but that was about all. "They've got lots more TIE fighters in reserve.

"Wedge?"

Wedge switched channels. "I'm here, Luke."

"We've decided not to leave the ship," Luke said. "We'd run right into the Imperials, and you know how well transports fight. You might as well get your group out of here and go whistle up some help." The surviving drop ships, Wedge saw, were reconfiguring into an evasion pattern with the TIE fighters moving ahead to clear a path for them.

"You'll never be able to hold out," he told Luke flatly. "There could be three hundred troops aboard those drop ships."

"We'll have a better chance against them than you will against a Star Destroyer," Luke retorted. "Come on, get going." Wedge clenched his teeth. Luke was right, and they both knew it. But to abandon his friends here "Rogue Leader, this is Gold Leader," a new voice abruptly came on the comm. Requesting permission to join the party."

Frowning, Wedge threw a glance out the back of his canopy. They were there, all right: the Quenfis's two X-wing squadrons, coming up behind his group for all they were worth. "Permission granted," he said. "I didn't think Councilor Fey'lya was going to let you come out and play."

"Fey'lya doesn't have any say in it anymore, the other said grimly.

"Tell you about it later. Captain's turned things over to Organa Solo."

"First good news I've heard today," Wedge grunted. "All right, here's the scheme. You detail four of your group to hit those drop ships; the rest of us will concentrate on the TIE fighters. With luck, we can clear them out before the next wave gets here. I don't suppose we've gut any backup of our own coming?"

"Captain says there's a Star Cruiser on the way, Gold Leader said.

"Don't know when it'll get here, though."

Probably not soon enough, Wedge told himself silently. "Okay," he said aloud. "Let's do it."

A new set of drive trails had appeared near the Star Destroyer's docking bay: the second wave of TIE fighters had launched. That was going to be trouble down the line; but for the moment, the X-wings had this batch of Imperials outnumbered. And the Imperials knew it. They were spreading out, trying to draw their attackers apart where they couldn't cover each other. Wedge did a quick evaluation of the situation-"All X-wings: we'll do a one-on-one," he said. "Choose your target and go." Closer now, he could see that two of the Imperial starfighters were the faster and more advanced TIE interceptors. Picking one of them for himself he broke formation and headed after it.

Whatever erosion the Empire had experienced in the way of ships and trained personnel over the past five years, it was quickly clear that their starfighter training program hadn't suffered a lot. Wedge's target TIE

interceptor slipped adroitly away from his initial attack, doing a sideways skid that simultaneously braked him out of the X-wing's way and swiveled his lasers around to track along its flight vector. Wedge threw the X-wing into a drop loop, wincing as the other's shot came close enough to trigger the starboard engines' heat sensors, and turned sharply to starboard. He braced himself for a second shot, hut it didn't come. Bringing the X-wing out of its combination loop/turn, he looked around for his opponent.

"Watch your back, Rogue Leader!" the voice of Rogue Three snapped in his ear; ana Wedge again threw the X-wing into a drop loop just as another laser blast sizzled past his canopy. Not only had the Imperial not been fooled by Wedge's corkscrew maneuver, he'd even managed to follow him through it.

"He's still with you," Rogue Three confirmed. "Go evasive-I can be there in a minute."

"Don't bother," Wedge told him. Through the spinning sky outside his canopy he'd caught a glimpse of another Imperial moving past him to portside. Hauling hard on his controls, he broke out of his loop and drove directly toward it. The TIE fighter jerked slightly as its pilot suddenly became aware of the threat bearing down on him and tried to veer out of the way. Which was exactly what Wedge had counted on. Ducking beneath the TIE

fighter, he threw the X-wing into a upward rolling turn, swinging perilously close to the Imperial's canopy and bringing his nose around to point back the way he'd come.

The TIE interceptor, which had instinctively swerved off Wedge's tail to keep from ramming one of his own ships, was caught flat-footed. A single point-blank blast from the X-wing's lasers blew it out of the sky.

"Nice flying, Rogue Leader," Gold Leader commented. "My turn." Wedge understood. Throwing power to his drive, he shot away from the TIE fighter he'd used for cover, getting clear just as Gold Leader's lasers caught it. "How we doing?" Wedge asked as his canopy lit up briefly with the reflected light of the explosion.

"We're done," Gold Leader said.

"We are?" Wedge frowned, bringing his X-wing around in a wide circle. Sure enough, the only things visible nearby were X-wings. Apart from expanding clouds of glowing debris, of course. "What about the drop ships?" he asked.

"I don't know," the other admitted. "Gold Three, Gold Four; report."

"We got six of them, Gold Leader," a new voice said. "I don't know what happened to the seventh."

Wedge swore under his breath, switching comm channels as he glanced back toward the Star Destroyer. The new group of TIE fighters was coming up fast. No time for him to do anything for the Katana except maybe warn them.

"Luke? You've got company coming."

"We know," Luke's tight voice came back. "They're already here." They came out of the drop ship with lasers blazing, laying down a heavy cover fire as they moved toward the two sets of blast doors that led forward from the docking bay. Luke couldn't see them from where he was, any more than he could see Han's group waiting silently for them behind the edge of the portside blast doors. But he could hear the Imperials' blaster fire, and he could sense their approach.

And there was something about that sense that set the back of his neck tingling. Something not quite right about them ...

His comlink beeped. "Luke?" Lando's voice came softly. "They're coming. You ready?"

Luke closed down his lightsaber and gave his handiwork one last check. A large section of the corridor's ceiling was now hanging perilously by a few strands of metal, ready to come crashing down at the slightest provocation. Beyond it, two sections of the wall were similarly boobytrapped.

"All set," he told Lando.

"Okay. Here goes ...

And suddenly, the pitch of a different class of weapons joined the cacophony as the defenders opened up on the Imperials. For a few seconds the two groups of weapons vied with each other. Then, with a screech of strained metal, the sounds were cut off.

The four techs were the first around the corner to where Luke waited, their faces showing the mixture of fear and nervousness and exhilaration of men who've just survived their first firelight. Lando was next, with Han and Chewbacca bringing up the rear. "Ready?" Han asked Luke.

"Yes." Luke indicated the rigged sections of ceiling and wall. "It's not going to hold them for long, though."

"Doesn't have to," Han grunted. "As long as it takes a few of them out it's worth it. Let's go."

"Hold it," Luke said, stretching out with the Force. Those strangely disturbing minds ... "They're splitting up," he told Han. "About half are still at the portside blast doors; the other half are going to the starboard Operations section."

"Trying to flank us," Han nodded. "Lando, how well is that area sealed off?"

"Not very," Lando admitted. "The blast doors from the docking bay itself should hold for a while, but there's a whole maze of storage rooms and maintenance shops off of Operations that they can probably get back to the main starboard corridor from. There were too many doors for us to close it all off."

From the blast doors they'd just left came the dull thud of a shaped charge. "So this group keeps us busy thinking they're all here, while the other one tries to get behind us," Han decided. "Well, we didn't want to hold the whole corridor, anyway. Chewie, you and Lando take the others and fall back toward the bridge. Take out as many of them as you can on the way. Luke and I'll go across to starboard and see if we can slow that batch down a little."

Chewbacca growled an acknowledgment and headed oft' the it)ur tech men already on their way. "Good luck" Lando said, and followed. Han looked at Luke. "Still in just the two groups?"

"Yes," Luke said, straining to locate the enemy. The strange feeling was still there ...

"Okay. Let's go."

They set off, Han leading the way down a narrow cross corridor lined with the kind of closely spaced doors that indicated crew quarters. "Where are we going?" Luke asked as they hurried along.

"Number two starboard weapons blister," Han said. "Should be something nasty there we can use to flood the main corridor with-turbolaser coolant or something."

"Unless they have life-support gear, Luke pointed out.

"They don't," Han said. "At least, they weren't wearing any when they charged us. They had standard trooper air filters, but if we fill the whole corridor with coolant those won't do them much good. You never know," he added reflectively. "The coolant might be flammable, too."

"Too bad the Katana fleet wasn't made up of Star Galleons," Luke said, reaching out again toward the enemy. As near as he could tell, they were in the maze of rooms Lando had mentioned, working their way around toward the main starboard corridor. "We really could have used those anti-intruder defenses they come equipped with."

"If this was a Star Galleon, the Empire wouldn't be so anxious to take it away from us in one piece," Han retorted. "They'd just blow it out of the sky and be done with it."

Luke grimaced. "Right."

They reached the main starboard corridor; and they were halfway across it when Han suddenly stopped short. "What in blazes-?" Luke turned to look. Ten meters down the corridor, sitting in a patch of darkness beneath burned-out light panels, was a large metal box resting at a tilt on a half-seen tangle of cables and struts. Twin blaster cannon protruded from beneath a narrow viewport; the corridor walls immediately around it were warped and blackened, with a half dozen good-sized holes visible. "What is it?" he asked.

"Looks like a scaled-down version of a scout walker," Han said.

"Let's go take a look."

"Wonder what it's doing here," Luke said as they walked toward it. The floor beneath their feet was noticeably warped, too. Whoever had been in there firing had done a thorough job of it.

"Probably someone brought it out of storage during the hive virus thing that killed everyone," Han suggested. "Either trying to protect the bridge or else just gone crazy themselves."

Luke nodded, shivering at the thought. "It must have been a real trick to get it in here in the first place."

"Well, we're sure not going to get it out," Han said, peering down at the tangle of debris where the walker's right leg had been. He cocked an eyebrow at Luke. "Unless ...?"

Luke swallowed. Master Yoda had lifted his X-wing out of a Dagobah swamp once...but Master Yoda had been far stronger in the Force than Luke was.

"Let's find out," he said. Taking a deep breath, clearing his mind, he raised his hand and reached out with the Force.

The walker didn't even quiver. Luke tried again; and again. But it was no use. Either the machine was wedged too tightly against walls and ceiling to move, or Luke simply didn't have the strength to lift it.

"Well, never mind," Han said, glancing back down the corridor. "It would have been nice to have it mobile-we could have put it in that big monitor room behind the bridge and picked off anyone who came close. But we can use it here, too. Let's see if we can get in."

Holstering his blaster, he climbed up the single remaining leg.

"They're getting closer," Luke warned him, looking uneasily back down the corridor. "Another couple of minutes and they'll be in sight."

"Better get around behind me," Han said. He was at the walker's side door now, and with a grunt be pulled it open "What?" Luke asked sharply as Han's sense abruptly changed.

"You don't want to know," Han told him grimly. Visibly bracing himself, he ducked down and climbed inside. "Still has power," he called, his voice echoing slightly. "Let's see ..."

Above Luke, the blaster cannon traversed a few degrees. "Still has maneuverability," Han added with satisfaction. "Great." Luke had made it to the top of the leg now, easing carefully past sharp edges. Whoever the walker had been fighting against had put up a good fight. The back of his mind tingled-"They're coming," he hissed to Han, slipping off the leg and landing silently on the deck. Dropping into a crouch, he peered back through the gap between the angled leg and the main part of the walker, hoping the darkness would be adequate to conceal him. He'd gotten out of sight just in time. The Imperials were moving swiftly toward them down the corridor, spread out in a properly cautious military formation. The two point men paused as they caught sight of the broken walker, probably trying to decide whether to risk a straight advance or to give up the element of surprise by laying down cover fire. Whoever was in charge opted for a compromise; the point men glided forward while the rest of the party dropped prone or hugged the corridor walls.

Han let them get right up to the base of the walker. Then, swiveling the blaster cannon over their heads, he opened up on the main group. The answering fire came instantly; but it was no contest at all. Han systematically raked the walls and the floor, driving back the handful who'd been fortunate enough to have a nearby doorway to duck into and annihilating those who hadn't. The two point men reacted instantly, one of them firing upward toward the viewport, the other scrambling up the leg toward the side door.

He reached the top to find Luke waiting for him. His companion down below got three shots off-all deflected-before the lightsaber found him, too. Abruptly, the blaster cannon stopped firing. Luke glanced down the corridor, reaching out with the Force. "There are still three of them left," he warned as Han opened the walker's door and squeezed out.

"Leave 'em," Han said, climbing carefully down the back of the damaged leg and consulting his chrono. "We need to get back to Lando and Chewie." He threw Luke a mirthless grin. "Besides, the actuator crystals just burned up. Let's get going before they figure that out." The first wave of TIE fighters had been destroyed, as had all but one of the drop ships. The Rebel Escort Frigate and its X-wings were now engaged with Squadrons One and Three, and appeared to be holding their own quite well. And Captain Brandei was no longer smiling.

"Squadron Four launching now," Starfighter Control announced.

"Squadrons Five and Six are awaiting your orders."

"Order them to stand by," Brandei instructed. Not that he had much choice in the matter. Five and Six were recon and bomber squadrons-useful enough in their particular areas of expertise, but not in straight battle against Rebel X-wings. "Anything further on the Peremptory?"

"No, sir. The last report from the Chimaera-before our shields went up-had their ETA as approximately 1519."

Only about seven minutes away. But battles had been lost in less time than that; and from the look of things, this could very well become one of them.

Which left Brandei only one real option. Much as he disliked the idea of moving into range of that Dreadnaught's turbolasers, he was going to have to take the aJudicator into combat. "All ahead," he ordered the helm. "Shields at full strength; turbolaser batteries stand ready. And inform the leader of the boarding party that I want that Dreadnaught in Imperial hands now."

"Yes, sir." There was a dull roar through the deck as the sublight drive came up to power And, without warning, the roar was joined by the hooting of the ship's alarms. "Bandits coming out of lightspeed astern," the sensor officer snapped. "Eighteen craft-freighter class and smaller. They're attacking."

Brandei swore viciously as he punched for the appropriate display. They weren't Rebel vessels, not this group, and he wondered who in the Empire they could be. But no matter. "Come around to two-seven-one," he ordered the helm. "Bring aft turbolasers to bear on the bandits. And launch Squadron Six." Whoever they were, he would soon teach them not to meddle in Imperial business. As to their identity ... well, Intelligence would be able to ascertain that later from the wreckage.

"Watch it, Mara," Aves's voice warned over the comm. "They're trying to come about. And we've got TIE fighters on the way."

"Right," Mara said, permitting herself a sardonic smile. For all the good that would do. The bulk of the Star Destroyer's starfighters were already engaged with the New Republic forces, which meant that all Karrde's people were likely to get would be recon ships and bombers. Nothing they couldn't handle. "Dankin, Torve-swing down to intercept.

The two pilots acknowledged, and she returned her attention to the inconspicuous spot beneath the Star Destroyer's central sublight drive nozzle where her Z-95's lasers were currently blasting away. Beneath the shielding at that point was a critical part of the lower-aft sensor package. If she could take it out, she and the others would have free run of the relatively undefended underside of the huge ship.

With a sudden puff of vaporized metal and plastic, the lasers punched through. "Got it," she told Aves. "Lower-aft-central sector is now blind."

"Good job," Aves said. "Everyone: move in." Mara pulled the Z-95 away, glad to be leaving the heat and radiation of the drive emissions. The Wild Karrde and other freighters could handle the job of tearing into the Star Destroyer's outer hull now; her small starfighter would be better utilized in keeping the TIE fighters away from them. But first, she had enough time to check in. "Jade calling Karrde," she said into the comm. "You there?"

"Right here, Mara, thank you," came a familiar voice; Mara felt a little of her tension drain away. Right here, thank you, meant everything was fine aboard the New Republic ship.

Or as fine as could be expected while facing an Imperial Star Destroyer. "What's the situation?" she asked.

"We've taken some damage, but we seem to be holding our own," he said. "There's a small tech team aboard the Katana and they have the turbolasers operational, which may account for the Star Destroyer's reluctance to move any closer. No doubt they'll overcome their shyness eventually."

"They've overcome it now," Mara said. "The ship was under power when we arrived. And we're not going to be able to distract them for long."

"Mara, this is Leia Organa Solo," a new voice came on the comm.

"We've got a Star Cruiser on its way."

"The Imperials will have backup coming, too," Mara said flatly.

"Let's not be heroic to the point of stupidity, okay? Get your people off the Katana and get out of here."

"We can't," Organa Solo said. "The Imperials have boarded. Our people are cut off from the docking bay."

Mara looked across at the dark bulk of the Dreadnaught, lit only by its own running lights and the flickers of reflected light from the battle raging near and around it. "Then you'd better write them off," she said. "The Imperials aren't likely to be far away-their backup will get here long before yours does."

And as if cued by her words, there was a flicker of pseudomotion off to her left; and abruptly three Dreadnaughts in triangular formation appeared.

"Mara!" Aves snapped.

"I see them," Mara said as a second triad flickered in behind and above the first. "That's it, Karrde. Get out of there-"

"Attention, New Republic forces," a new voice boomed over the channel. "This is Senator Garm Bel Iblis aboard the warship Peregrine. May I offer our assistance?"

Leia stared at the comm speaker, a strange combination of surprise, hope, and disbelief flooding in on her. She glanced up at Karrde, caught his eye. He shrugged slightly, shook his head. "I'd heard he was dead," he murmured.

Leia swallowed. So had she ... but it was Bel Iblis's voice, all right. Or else an excellent copy. "Garm, this is Leia Organa Solo," she said.

"Leia!" Bel Iblis said. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?

I didn't expect. you to be out here personally. Though perhaps I should have. Was all this your idea?"

Leia frowned out the viewport. "I don't understand what you mean by all this. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Captain Solo sent my assistant the coordinates and asked us to come along as backup," Bel Iblis said, a note of caution creeping into his voice.

"I assumed it was at your request."

Leia smiled tightly. She should have guessed. "Han's memory sort of slips sometimes," she said. "Though to be honest, we haven't had much time since we got back to compare notes."

"I see," Bel Iblis said slowly. "So it wasn't actually an official request from the New Republic?"

"It wasn't, but it is now," Leia assured him. "On behalf of the New Republic, I hereby ask for your assistance." She looked over at Virgilio. "Log that, please, Captain."

"Yes, Councilor," Virgilio acknowledged. "And speaking for myself, Senator Bel Iblis, I'm delighted to have you along."

"Thank you, Captain," Bel Iblis said, and in her mind's eye Leia could see the other's famous smile. "Let's do some damage, shall we? Peregrine out."

The six Dreadnaughts had moved into encirclement formation around the Star Destroyer now, smothering it with a flood of ion cannon fire and ignoring the increasingly sporadic turbolaser blasts raking them in return.

"Mara's right, though," Karrde said, stepping close to Leia. "As soon as we can get the tech team off that ship, we'd better get them and run." Leia shook her head. "We can't just leave the Katana fleet to the Empire."

Karrde snorted. "I take it you haven't had a chance to count how many Dreadnaughts are left out there."

Leia frowned. "No. Why?"

"I did a scan," Karrde said grimly. "Earlier, when you were arguing with Fey'lya. Out of the original two hundred Katana ships ... there are fifteen left."

Leia stared at him. "Fifteen?" she breathed. Karrde nodded. "I'm afraid I underestimated the Grand Admiral, Councilor," he said, an edge of bitterness seeping in beneath the studied urbanity of his voice. "I knew that once he had the location of the fleet he would start moving the ships away from here. But I didn't expect him to get the location from Hoffner this quickly."

Leia shivered. She'd undergone an Imperial interrogation herself once. Years later, the memory was still vivid. "I wonder if there's anything left of him."

"Save your sympathy," Karrde advised. "In retrospect, it seems unlikely that Thnvn needed to bother with anything so uncivilized as coercion. For Hoffner to have talked so freely implies the Grand Admiral simply applied a large infusion of cash."

Leia gazed out at the battle, the dark feeling of failure setting over her. They'd lost. After all their efforts, they'd lost. She took a deep breath, running through the Jedi relaxation exercises. Yes, they'd lost. But it vas just a battle, not the war. The Empire might ha'e taken the Dark Force, but recruiting and training crewers to man all those Dreadnaughts would take years. A lot could happen in that time.

"You're right," she told Karrde. "We'd do best to cut our losses. Captain Virgilio, as soon as those TIE fighters have been neutralized I want a landing party sent to the Katana to assist our tech team there." There was no reply. "Captain?"

Virgilio was staring out the bridge viewport, his face carved from stone. "Too late, Councilor," he said quietly.

Leia turned to look. There, moving toward the besieged Imperial ship, a second Star Destroyer had suddenly emerged from hyperspace. The Imperials' backup had arrived.

"Pull out!" Aves shouted, his voice starting to sound ragged. "All ships, pull out! Second Star Destroyer in system."

The last word was half drowned out by the clang of the Z-95's proximity warning as something got entirely too close. Mara threw the little ship into a sideways skid, just in time to get out of a TIE fighter's line of fire. "Pull out where?" she demanded, turning her skid into a barely controlled spin that had the effect of killing her forward velocity. Her attacker, perhaps made overconfident by the appearance of the backup force, roared by too fast for more than a wild shot in her direction. Coolly, Mara blew him out of the sky. "In case you've forgotten, some of us don't have enough computing power aboard to calculate a safe hyperspace jump."

"I'll feed you the numbers," Aves said. "Karrde-"

"I agree," Karrde's voice came from the Escort Frigate. "Get out of here."

Mara clenched her teeth, glancing up at the second Star Destroyer. She hated to turn tail and run, but she knew they were right. Bel Iblis had shifted three of his ships to meet the new threat, but even equipped with ion cannon, three Dreadnaughts couldn't hold down a Star Destroyer for long. If they didn't disengage soon, they might not get another chance Abruptly, her danger sense tingled. Again she threw the Z-95 into a skid; but this time she was too late. The ship lurched hard, and from behind her came the hissing scream of superheated metal vaporizing into space. "I'm hit!" she snapped, one hand automatically slapping cutoff switches as the other grabbed for her flight suit's helJet seals and fastened them in place. Just in time; a second hiss, cut off almost before it began, announced the failure of cabin integrity. "Power lost, air lost. Ejecting now." She reached for the eject loop ... and paused. By chance-or perhaps last-second instinct her crippled fighter was aimed almost directly at the first Star Destroyer s hangar entry port. If she could coax a little more power out of the auxiliary maneuvering system ...

It took more than a little coaxing, but when she finally gripped the eject loop again she had the satisfaction of knowing that even in death the Z-95 would take a minor bit of revenge on the Empire's war machine. Not much, but a little.

She pulled down on the loop, and an instant later was slammed hard into her seat as explosive bolts blew the canopy clear and catapulted her out of the ship. She got a quick glimpse of the Star Destroyer's portside edge, an even quicker glimpse of a TIE fighter whipping past And suddenly there was an agonized squeal from the ejection seat's electronics, and the violent crackle of arcing circuits ... and with a horrible jolt Mara realized that she had made what might very well be the last mistake of her life. Intent on aiming her crippled Z-95 at the Star Destroyer's hangar bay, she had drifted too close to the giant ship and ejected directly into the path of the Dreadnaughts' ion beam bombardment. And in that single crackle of tortured electronics she had lost everything. Her comm, her lights, her limited maneuvering jets, her life support regulator, her emergency beacons.

Everything.

For a second her thoughts flickered to Skywalker. He'd been lost in deep space, too, awhile back. But she'd had a reason to find him. No one had a similar reason to find her.

A flaming TIE fighter roared past her and exploded. A large piece of shrapnel glanced off the ceramic armor that wrapped partially around her shoulders, slamming her head hard against the side of the headrest. And as she fell into the blackness, she saw the Emperor's face before her. And knew that she had again failed him.

They were approaching the monitor anteroom just behind the Katana's bridge when Luke abruptly jerked. "What?" Han snapped, looking quickly around down the corridor behind them.

"It's Mara," the other said, his face tight. "She's in trouble."

"Hit?" Han asked.

"Hit and...and lost," Luke said, forehead straining in concentration.

"She must have run into one of the ion beams."

The kid was looking like he'd just lost his best friend, instead of someone who wanted to kill him. Han thought about pointing that out, decided at the last second they had more immediate things to worry about. Probably just one of those crazy Jedi things that never made sense anyway. "Well, we can't help her now," he said, starting forward again. "Come on. Both the starboard and port main corridors fed into the monitor anteroom, from which a single set of blast doors led the rest of the way forward into the bridge proper. Lando and Chewbacca were at opposite sides of the port corridor entrance way as Han and Luke arrived, huddling back from a barrage of laser fire and occasionally risking a quick shot know. "What've you got, Lando?" Han asked as he and Luke joined them.

"Nothing good, buddy," Lando grunted back. "There are at least ten of then' left. Shen and Tomrus were both hit-Shen will probably die if we don't get him to a medic droid in the next hour or so. Anselm and Kline are taking care of them inside the bridge."

"We did a little better, but we've still got a couple of them coming up behind us," Han told him, doing a quick assesment of the rows of monitor consoles in the anteroom. They would provide reasonable cover, hilt given the layout, the defenders wouldn't be able to retreat farther without opening themselves to enemy fire. "I don't think four of us can hold this place," he decided. "We'd better pull back to the bridge."

"From which there's nowhere else to go, Lando pointed out. "I trust you considered that part?"

Beside him, Han felt Luke brace himself. "All right," Luke said.

"Into the bridge, all of you. I'll handle this." Lando threw him a look. "You'll what?"

"I'll handle it," Luke repeated. With a sharp snap-hiss he ignited his lightsaber. "Get going-I know what I'm doing."

"Come on," Han seconded. He didn't know what Luke had in mind, but something about the kid's face suggested it wouldn't be a good idea to argue.

"We can backstop him from inside."

A minute later they were set: Han and Lando just inside the bridge blast doors, Chewbacca a few meters farther in under cover of an engineering console, Luke standing alone in the archway with lightsaber humming. It took another minute for the Imperials to realize that they had the corridors to themselves; but once they did they moved swiftly. Cover fire began ricocheting around the monitor consoles, and as it did so the Imperials began diving one by one through the two corridor archways into the anteroom, taking cover behind the long consoles and adding their contribution to the laser fire storm.

Trying not to wince back from the attack, Han kept up his own fire, knowing full well that he wasn't doing much more than making noise. Luke's lightsaber flashed like something alive and hungry, deflecting the bolts that came too close. So far the kid didn't seem to have been hit ... but Han knew that it couldn't last. As soon as the Imperials stopped laying down random cover fire and started concentrating on their aim, there would be too many shots for even a Jedi to stay clear of. Gritting his teeth, wishing he knew what Luke had in mind, he kept shooting.

"Ready!" Luke shouted over the screaming of the bolts ... and even as Han wondered what he was supposed to be ready for, the kid took a step back and threw his lightsaber to the side. It spiraled across the anteroom, spun into the wall And with a crack like thunder, sliced the anteroom open to space. Luke leaped backwards, barely making it into the bridge before the blast doors slammed shut against the explosive decompression. Alarms whistled for a moment until Chewbacca shut them oft, and for another minute Han could hear the thudding of laser fire as the doomed Imperials fired uselessly at the blast doors.

And then the firing trailed off into silence ... and it was all over. Luke was already at the main viewport, gazing out at the battle taking place outside. "Take it easy, Luke," Han advised, holstering his blaster and coming up behind him. "We're out of the fight."

"We can't be," Luke insisted, his artificial right hand opening and closing restlessly. Maybe remembering Myrkr, and that long trek with Mara across the forest. "We've got to do something to help. The Imperials will kill everyone if we don't."

"We can't fire, and we can't maneuver," Han growled, fighting back his own feeling of helplessness. Leia was on that Escort Frigate out there ...

"What's left?"

Luke waved a hand helplessly. "I don't know," he conceded. "You're supposed to be the clever one. You think of something."

"Yeah," Han muttered, looking around the bridge. "Sure. I'm supposed to just wave my hands and-"

He stopped short...and felt a slow, lopsided smile spread across his face. "Chewie, Lando-get over there to those sensor displays," he ordered, looking down at the console in front of him. Not the right one. "Luke, help me find-never mind; here it is."

"Here what is?" Lando asked, stepping in front of the display Han had indicated.

"Think about it a minute," Han said, glancing over the controls. Good; everything still seemed to be engaged. He just hoped it all still worked. "Where are we, anyway?" he added, stepping over to the helm console and activating it.

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Lando said with strained patience.

"And fiddling with that helm isn't going to get us anywhere."

"You're right," Han agreed, smiling tightly. "It's not going to get us anywhere."

Lando stared at him...and slowly, a smile of his own appeared.

"Right," he said slyly. "Right. This is the Katana fleet. And we're aboard the Katana."

"You got it," Han told him. Taking a deep breath, mentally crossing his fingers, he eased power to the drive.

The Katana didn't move, of course. But the whole reason the entire Katana fleet had disappeared together in the first place "Got one," Lando called out, hunching over his sensor display.

"Bearing forty-three mark twenty."

"Just one?" Han asked.

"Just one," Lando confirmed. "Count your blessings-after this much time we're lucky to have even one ship whose engines still work."

"Let's hope they stay working," Han grunted. "Give me an intercept course for that second Star Destroyer."

"Uh ..." Lando frowned. "Come around fifteen degrees portside and down a hair."

"Right." Carefully, Han made the necessary course change. It was a strange feeling to be flying another ship by slave-rig remote control. "How's that?" he asked Lando.

"Looks good," Lando confirmed. "Give it a little more power."

"The fire control monitors aren't working," Luke warned, stepping to Han's side. "I don't know if you're going to be able to fire accurately without them."

"I'm not even going to try," Han told him grimly. "Lando?"

"Shift a little more to portside," Lando directed. "A little more ... that's it." He looked up at Han. "You're lined up perfectly."

"Here goes," Han said; and threw the throttle control wide open. There was no way the Star Destroyer could have missed seeing the Dreadnaught bearing down on it, of course. But with its electronic and control systems still being scrambled by Bel Iblis's ion attack, there was also no way for it to move out of the way in time.

Even from the Katana's distance, the impact and explosion were pretty spectacular. Han watched the expanding fireball fade slowly, and then turned to Luke. "Okay," he said. "Now we're out of the fight." Through the Judicator's side viewport Captain Brandei watched in stunned disbelief as the Peremptory died its fiery death. No-it couldn't be. It simply couldn't. Not an Imperial Star Destroyer. Not the mightiest ship in the Empire's fleet.

The crack of a shot against the bridge deflector screen snapped him out of it. "Report," he snapped.

"One of the enemy Dreadnaughts seems to have been damaged in the Peremptory's explosion," the sensor officer reported. "The other two are on their way back here."

To reinforce the three still blasting away with their ion cannon. Brandei gave the tactical display a quick check; but it was a meaningless exercise. He knew full well what their only course was. "Recall all remaining fighters," he ordered. "We'll make the jump to lightspeed as soon as they're aboard."

"Yes sir."

And as the bridge crew moved to comply, Brandei permitted himself a tight smile. Yes, they'd lost this one. But it was just a battle, not the war. They'd be back soon enough...and when they did, it would be with the Dark Force and Grand Admiral Thrawn to command it.

So he would leave the Rebels to enjoy their victory here. It might well be their last.

CHAPTER

29

The repair party from the Quenfis got the anteroom hull breach patched in what was probably record time. The ship Luke had requested was waiting for him in the docking bay, and he was out in space again barely an hour after the destruction f the second Star Destroyer and the retreat of the first.

Locating a single inert ejection seat among all the debris of battle had been a nearly hopeless task for Karrde's people. For a Jedi, it was no trick at all.

Mara was unconscious when they found her, both from a dangerously depleted air supply and from what was probably a mild concussion. Aves got her aboard the Wild Karrde and set off at near-reckless speed toward the medical facilities of the Star Cruiser which had finally arrived. Luke saw them safely aboard, then headed back toward the Katana and the transport he and the rest of his team would be returning to Coruscant by.

Wondering why it had been so important for him to rescue Mara in the first place.

He didn't know. There were lots of rationalizations he could come up with, from simple gratitude for her assistance in the battle all the way up to the saving of lives being a natural part of a Jedi's duty. But none of them was more than simply a rationalization. All he knew for certain was that he had had to do it.

Maybe it was the guidance of the Force. Maybe it was just one last gasp of youthful idealism and naïveté.

From the board in front of him, the comm pinged. "Luke?"

"Yes, Han, what is it?"

"Get back here to the Katana. Right away." Luke looked out his canopy at the dark ship ahead, a shiver running through him. Han's voice had been that of someone walking through a graveyard..."What is it?"

"Trouble," the other said. "I know what the Empire's up to now. And it's not good."

Luke swallowed. "I'll be right there."

"So," Thrawn said, his glowing eyes blazing with cold fire as he looked up from the Judicator's report. "Thanks to your insistence on delaying me, we've lost the Peremptory. I trust you're satisfied." C'baoth met the gaze evenly. "Don't blame the incompetence of your would-be conquerors on me," he said, his voice as icy as Thrawn's. "Or perhaps it wasn't incompetence, but the skill of the Rebellion. Perhaps it would be you lying dead now if the Chimaera had gone instead." Thrawn's face darkened. Pellaeon eased a half step closer to the Grand Admiral, moving a little farther into the protective sphere of the ysalamir beside the command chair, and braced himself for the explosion. But Thrawn had better control than that. "Why are you here?" be asked instead.

C'baoth smiled and turned deliberately away. "You've made many promises to me since you first arrived on Wayland, Grand Admiral Thrawn," he said, pausing to peer at one of the hologram sculptures scattered around the room. "I'm here to make sure those promises are kept."

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"By making certain that I'm too important to be, shall we say, conveniently forgotten," C'baoth said. "I'm hereby informing you, therefore, that I will be returning to Wayland ... and will be assuming command of your Mount Tantiss project."

Pellaeon felt his throat tighten. "The Mount Tantiss project?" Thrawn asked evenly.

"Yes," C'baoth said, smiling again as his eyes flicked to Pellaeon.

"Oh, I know about it, Captain. Despite your petty efforts to conceal the truth from me."

"We wished to spare you unnecessary discomfort," Thrawn assured him.

"Unpleasant memories, for example, that the project might bring to mind." C'baoth studied him. "Perhaps you did," he conceded with only a touch of sarcasm. "If that was truly your motive, I thank you. But the time for such things has passed. I have grown in power and ability since I left Wayland, Grand Admiral Thrawn. I no longer need you to care for my sensitivities." He drew himself up to his full height; and when he spoke again, his voice boomed and echoed throughout the room. "I am C'baoth; Jedi Master. The Force which binds the galaxy together is my servant." Slowly, Thrawn rose to his feet. "And you are my servant, he said. C'baoth shook his head. "Not anymore, Grand Admiral Thrawn. The circle has closed. The Jedi will rule again."

"Take care, C'baoth," Thrawn warned. "Posture all you wish. But never forget that even you are not indispensable to the Empire." C'baoth's bushy eyebrows lifted...and the smile which creased his face sent an icy shiver through Pellaeon's chest. It was the same smile he remembered from Wayland.

The smile that had first convinced him that C'baoth was indeed insane.

"On the contrary," the Jedi Master said softly. "As of now, I am all that is not indispensable to the Empire."

He lifted his gaze to the stars displayed on the room's walls.

"Come," he said. "Let us discuss the new arrangement of our Empire." Luke looked down at the bodies of the Imperial troops who had died in his sudden decompression of the Katana's bridge anteroom. Understanding at last why they'd felt strange to his mind. "I don't suppose there s any chance of a mistake," he heard himself say.

Beside him, Han shrugged. "Leia's got them doing a genetic check. But I don't think so."

Luke nodded, staring down at the lies laid out before him. Or rather, at the single face that was shared by all of the bodies.

Clones.

"So that's it," he said quietly. "Somewhere, the Empire's found a set of Spaarti cloning cylinders. And has gotten them working."

"Which means it's not going to take them years to find and train crews for their new Dreadnaughts," Han said, his voice grim. "Maybe only a few months. Maybe not even that long."

Luke took a deep breath. "I've got a really bad feeling about this, Han."

"Yeah. Join the club."

To Be Concluded...