Star Wars: Outbound Flight

23

The battle had been over for nearly three hours, and Car’das was starting to get seriously bored when he finally heard the rhythmic tapping at his back.

He half turned over and rapped the same pattern with the edge of the macrobinoculars. Then, turning back around to face the stars, he worked the kinks out of his muscles and waited.

It came in a sudden flurry of activity. Behind him, the door to his prison popped open and he felt the sudden tugging of vacuum at his lungs and face as the air pressure in his bubble exploded outward, shoving him backward out into the corridor.

He caught a glimpse of vac-suited figures surrounding him as he was enveloped in a tangle of sticky cloth. Before he could do more than scrabble his fingertips against it in an effort to push it away from his face there was a harsh hissing in his ears, and the cloth receded from him in all directions.

And a moment later he found himself floating inside a transparent rescue ball.

“Whoa,” he muttered, wincing as his ears popped painfully with the returning air pressure.

“Are you all right?” a familiar voice asked from a comlink connected to the ball’s oxygen tank.

“Yes, Commander, thank you,” he assured the other. “I gather it all worked as planned?”

“Yes,” Thrawn confirmed, his voice carrying an odd tinge of sadness to it. “For the most part.”

One of the other rescuers leaned close, and to his surprise Car’das saw that it was the human who’d introduced himself aboard the Darkvenge as Commander Stratis. “Car’das?

” Stratis demanded, frowning through the plastic. “What are you doing here?”

“Luring the Vagaari into my trap, of course,” Thrawn said, as if it were obvious. “Or had you forgotten that the Chiss do not engage in preemptive attacks?”

“I see,” Stratis said, still eyeing Car’das. “So those spy accusations you were throwing around aboard the Darkvenge were nothing but smoke? Something to cover you in case the whole thing fell apart?”

“It was protection, yes, but not for me,” Thrawn said.

He gestured, and the rest of the group began maneuvering Car’das’s rescue ball down the corridor. “It was to protect Admiral Ar’alani, the officer commanding the transport that arrived an hour ago to take the freed Geroon slaves back to their world.”

“And who couldn’t afford to be even unofficially involved in any of this,” Stratis said, nodding. “But who could make sure to look the other way at all the right times, leaving you and Car’das to take the blame if anything went wrong.”

“Never mind the blame,” Car’das put in. “What happened with Outbound Flight? I saw the starfighters take off after it.”

Thrawn and Stratis exchanged looks. “We were forced to go farther than I’d hoped,” Thrawn said.

Car’das felt his heart freeze in his chest. “How much farther?”

“They’re dead,” Thrawn said quietly. “All of them.”

There was a long silence. Car’das looked away, his eyes catching glimpses of dead Vagaari as the Chiss continued carrying him along. Thrawn had abandoned his attack on known slavers and murderers to destroy thousands of innocent people?

“There wasn’t any choice,” Stratis said into his numbness. “C’baoth was using his Jedi power to try and strangle the commander. There was no other way to stop him.”

“Did you ever give them a chance to just leave and go home?” Car’das retorted.

“Yes,” Thrawn said.

“More than just one chance,” Stratis added. “More than I would have offered them, in fact. And if it matters any, I was the one who actually pushed the button.”

Car’das grimaced. On one level, it did matter. On another, it didn’t. “You’re sure there aren’t any survivors?”

“The Dreadnaughts were taken out by radiation bombs,” Stratis told him. “We haven’t actually sent anyone over yet to check, but if the commander’s weapons stats are accurate there’s no way anyone could have lived through that.”

“So you got what you wanted after all,” Car’das said, feeling suddenly very tired. “You must be happy.”

Stratis looked away. “I’m content,” he said. “I wouldn’t say I’m happy.”

“Well?” Kav demanded as Doriana stripped off his vac suit in the privacy of one of the Springhawk‘s prep rooms. “I hear no wailings of despair for the fallen captain.”

“That’s because the captain isn’t fallen,” Doriana said.

“I never had an opportunity.”

“Did not have one?” Kav asked. “Or did not make one?”

“I never had one,” Doriana repeated coldly. He was not in the mood for this. “You want to try to assassinate a military commander in front of his men, you go right ahead.”

He finished undressing in silence. “Yet he must die,”

Kav said as Doriana began pulling on his own clothing. “He knows too much about our part in what has happened.”

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo is no ordinary alien,” Doriana pointed out. “And there’s still a matter of finding an opportunity.”

“Or of making one.” Stepping close, Kav pressed something into Doriana’s hand. “Here.”

Puzzled, Doriana looked down. One glance was all it took. “Where did you get this?” he hissed as he hurriedly closed his hand around the small hold-out blaster.

“I have always had it,” Kav said. “The shot is small and hard to see, but highly intense. It will kill quickly and quietly.”

And would condemn Doriana in double-quick time if he was caught with it. Feeling a sudden sheen of sweat breaking out beneath his collar, he slipped the weapon out of sight into a pocket. “Just let me handle the timing,” he warned the other. “Idon’t want you hovering around like an expectant mother avian.”

“Do not worry,” Kav growled. “Where is the commander now?”

“Gone to the transport ship to talk to the admiral,”

Doriana said, finishing with his tunic and starting to pull on his boots. “Car’das went with him.”

And that was another problem, he reminded himself soberly. Like Mitth’raw’nuruodo, Car’das knew far too much about what had happened out here. And unlike the Chiss, he definitely would soon be traveling back to the Republic. After he dealt with Mitth’raw’nuruodo, Doriana would have to make equally sure that Car’das never told his story to the wrong people.

The rescued Geroons had been herded into the cargo bay, the only place aboard the transport big enough to hold them all. Most were sitting cross-legged in small groups, talking quietly among themselves, the most recent arrivals still working on the food sticks and hot drinks Admiral Ar’alani’s warriors had provided them. All of them looked a little dazed, as if having trouble believing they were actually free of the Vagaari.

Standing to the side just inside one of the bay doors, trying to stay out of the way of both the Geroons and the Chiss crewers moving about them, Car’das looked out at the multitude, his heart and mind fatigued beyond anything he’d ever experienced. A thousand times in the past day he’d wondered what he was doing in the middle of this whole thing; wondered how in the galaxy Thrawn had managed to talk him into playing bait for the Vagaari.

But it had worked. It had all worked. The Geroons had been freed, not only these particular slaves but probably their entire world as well. Admiral Ar’alani had already said that when the transport returned the slaves to their home she would bring along a task force of Chiss warships for protection. Any Vagaari still hanging around the system wouldn’t be lunging around there for long.

And as for Outbound Flight…

He closed his eves. Fifty thousand people dead, the entire populace of the six Dreadnaughts. Had that really been necessary? Stratis had said it had, and Thrawn hadn’t contradicted him. But had that really been the only way?

Car’das would probably never know for sure. Distantly, he wondered what Mails was going to say when she found out what her noble hero had done.

“Even now, they don’t seem to believe it,” a voice murmured from his left.

Car’das opened his eyes. Thrass was standing beside him, a strange expression on his face as he gazed across the crowded bay. “Syndic Thrass,” Car’das greeted him. “I didn’t realize you were aboard.”

“Admiral Ar’alani suggested I come,” Thrass said, his eyes still on the Geroons. “She seemed to think she and I and my brother could now resolve the question of the Vagaari goods being held at Crustai and allow you and your companions to go on your way.”

He turned his eyes onto Car’das. “Now that you and I have apparently served our purposes.”

Car’das held his gaze without flinching. “I have no problems with having been a part of your brother’s plan,” he said evenly. “Neither should you.”

“I was manipulated and controlled,” Thrass said, his eyes flashing with resentment.

“For your own protection,” Car’das countered. “If Thrawn and Ar’alani had brought you into the plan, your future would have been just as much on the line as theirs were.”

“And as they are now,” Thrass pointed out darkly. “The Nine Ruling Families will not stand for such an illegal and immoral attack.”

“Number one,” Car’das said, lifting a finger. “This system is within the patrol region of the Chiss Expansionary Fleet. That makes it Chiss territory. Number two: the Vagaari arrived in force with the clear intent of causing harm. That makes Commander Thrawn’s actions self-defense, as far as I’m concerned.”

“They were here only because you had so enticed them.”

“I’m not bound by your rules,” Car’das reminded him.

“Besides, as Admiral Ar’alani will attest, your brother had publicly labeled me as a possible spy. If I got desperate enough to go to the Vagaari for help in freeing my companions, you can hardly blame that on him.”

Thrass’s lip twisted. “No, Thrawn has always been very good at hiding his hand when he wishes to do so.”

“Which seems to me takes care of the legal aspects,”

Car’das concluded. “As to your other objection—” He gestured toward the Geroons. “—I defy you to look at these people and tell me how freeing them from tyranny could possibly be immoral.”

“The morality of an action is not determined by the results,” Thrass said stiffly. His face softened a little. “Still, in this case, it’s a hard point to argue.”

“I saw the way the Vagaari treated their slaves,”

Car’das said, shivering at the memories of the Geroons the Miskara had murdered in cold blood. “In my opinion, the universe is well rid of them.”

“I would tend to agree,” Thrass said. “But Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano may not see things so clearly.”

Car’das frowned. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“He and vessels of the Fifth Ruling Family are on their way here,” Thrass said grimly. “I had a brief communication with him just before leaving Crustai. I suspect he intends toplace Thrawn under arrest.”

Car’das felt his throat tighten. “Does Thrawn know about this?”

“No.”

“We need to tell him, and fast,” Car’das said grimly.

“Do you know where he is?”

“I believe he and Admiral Ar’alani have gone across to inspect Outbound Flight.”

“Then let’s get over there,” Car’das said. “Come on—my shuttle’s in one of the portside docking stations.”

With a creak of not-quite-aligned metal fittings, the turbolift door reluctantly slid open. “Looks like we’ve got air seals again,” Uliar commented, peering upward into the car. The ceiling was mostly intact, but one of the scams had cracked open and at its edge he could see the faint rainbow discoloration of a massive radiation surge. Had one or more of the reactors gone up? Unlikely. Even down here in the core they should have heard something that catastrophic.

“That shaft’s going to be a mess, though,” Keely muttered, stepping tentatively up beside Uliar. “And the Dreadnaughts themselves will be worse. This could take awhile.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time talking about it,”

Uliar said. He started to step into the car.

“No,” Jinzler said, reaching out to touch his arm. She, too, was gazing at the car ceiling, a look of concentration on her face. “I’m going alone.”

“Alone’s never a good idea in this kind of situation,”

Keely warned.

“Alone for a Jedi is sometimes the only way,” she said.

Her eyes came back to him, and some of the concentration faded.

“Don’t worry. As soon as I’ve found someplace safe, I’ll come back and get you.”

“You sure you don’t want at least a little company?”

Uliar asked, eyeing her closely. He didn’t really want to go poking around up there, not with all the destruction and bodies and all.

But he didn’t like the idea of letting this Jedi out of his sight, either.

“Very sure,” Jinzler said. “Go back and wait until I come for you.”

“Whatever you say,” Keely said, plucking at Uliar’s sleeve. “Come on, Chas.”

“Okay,” Uliar said reluctantly, stepping back as Jinzler got into the car. “Make it fast.”

“I’ll try,” Jinzler said, giving him a reassuring smile.

She was still smiling as the door creaked shut between them.

They found Thrawn and Ar’alani on the bridge of the main command ship, standing amid a bustling crowd of Chiss crewers methodically checking out the still-active control consoles. There were a lot of bodies there, too, lying haphazardly all over the deck. For once, Car’das hardly even noticed. “Ah—my brother,” Thrawn said as Thrass and Car’das made their way through the maze of consoles. “Are the Geroons being properly cared for?”

“Never mind the Geroons,” Car’das put in before Thrass could answer. “Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano’s on his way with a fleet of Fifth Family ships.”

“On whose authority do they fly?” Ar’alani demanded.

“The Aristocra’s own, I presume,” Thrawn said, his eyes narrowed in thought. “How soon until they arrive?”

“They could be here at any time,” Thrass said. “Isuspect he’s coming to raise charges against you.”

“In that case he would hardly need a fleet of vessels,”

Thrawn pointed out. “No, the Aristocra has something far more profitable in mind.”

“Outbound Flight?” Car’das asked.

“Actually, I expect he’s hoping to take possession of the remains of the Vagaari fleet,” Thrawn said. “But you’re right.

Once he sees Outbound Flight that priority will definitely change.”

“He can’t do that,” Thrass protested. He looked at Ar’alani. “Can he?”

“Not legally,” Ar’alani said, her voice tight. “But as a practical matter, if he’s brought enough vessels, there’ll be no way for us to stop him.”

“The Council of Families—” Thrass began.

“—will certainly object,” Ar’alani cut in. “But the procedure will be long and complex.”

“And in the meantime the Fifth Family will be coaxing the secrets from their new prize,” Thrawn said.

Thrass hissed, a startlingly reptilian sound. “We can’t allow that,” he said. “Possession of Outbound Flight by any one Family could destroy the balance of power for decades to come.”

Car’das nodded, a hard knot forming in his stomach.

The thought of getting their hands on droid technology alone had been enough to lure the Vagaari to their destruction. How much more of an edge would the droids plus the rest of Outbound Flight’s technology give Chaf’orm’bintrano’s family?

“We’ll have to stall him,” Ar’alani said. But she didn’t sound very confident. “We must keep his people off this vessel until the Defense Fleet units I’ve summoned can arrive.”

“They won’t be in time,” Thrawn said. “We need to take Outbound Flight to a military base immediately and have it declared Defense Fleet property.”

“How long a trip are we talking about?” Car’das asked dubiously. “This thing’s taken a lot of damage.”

“It will push the systems to their limit,” Thrawn conceded. “But we must try. It would be better for Outbound Flight to be destroyed than to let any single family claim it.”

There was a flicker of movement at the corner of Car’das’s eye. He turned to the canopy.

Just as the last of a dozen large Chiss ships came out of hyperspace. “Too late,” he said. “He’s here.”

Ar’alani muttered a word that had never come up in Car’das’s language lessons. “We’ll have to make do with the crewers you already have aboard,” she said. “Quickly, before—”

She broke off at a twitter from Thrawn’s comlink.

Thrawn looked out at the ships, then reluctantly pulled the device from his belt. “Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

“Commander, Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano of the Fifth Ruling Family is signaling the Springhawk,” a voice said. “He demands your immediate presence aboard the Chaf Exalted.”

Thrawn’s eyes flicked to Ar’alani. “Do not acknowledge his signal,” he ordered.

“It was not a request, Commander,” the voice warned.

“Do not acknowledge,” Thrawn repeated, and clicked off the comlink.

“Thrawn, you can’t simply refuse an Aristocra’s direct order,” Thrass objected.

“I haven’t yet received any direct orders from the Aristocra,” Thrawn said evenly. “Car’das, find me the helm.”

“Yes, sir,” Car’das said, peering at the nearest consoles.

And then Ar’alani’s comlink twittered.

All eyes turned to her. “Clever” was all she said as she removed it from her belt and keyed it on. “Admiral Ar’alani.”

“This is Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano,” a voice boomed.

“I’ve been unable to contact Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo, and I suspect he’s refusing to communicate with me. As an Aristocra of the Fifth Ruling Family, I order you to find and detain him pending a hearing on his recent military activities.”

Ar’alani hesitated, and Car’das held his breath. Then, with clear reluctance, she nodded. “Acknowledged, Aristocra. I hear, and obey.”

She shut off the comlink. “I’m sorry, Commander,” she said to Thrawn. “I have no choice but to place you under detention.”

“This will destroy the Chiss,” Thrawn said quietly. “The Defense Fleet, and only the Defense Fleet, can safely take possession of this vessel.”

“I understand, and I’ll do what I can to stall the Aristocra,” Ar’alani said. “But in the meantime, you are under detention. Order your people to assemble in the hangar to return to our vessels.”

For a long moment Thrawn stood motionless. Then, slowly, he bowed his head and activated his comlink. “This is Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” he said. “All Chiss warriors aboard Outbound Flight: return to the hangar bay.”

“Thank you,” Ar’alani said. “Now if you please?” she added, gesturing back toward the blast doors. “You, too, Car’das.”

Car’das took a deep breath. “I’m not under Chiss command, Admiral,” he said. “I’d like to stay aboard awhile longer.”

Ar’alani’s eves narrowed. “What are you planning?

Surely you can’t fly this vessel alone.”

“I’m not under Chiss command,” Car’das repeated.

“And the Aristocra’s order didn’t mention me.”

Ar’alani looked at Thrawn, then at the incoming Fifth Family ships, then finally back at Car’das. “Permission granted,”

she said. She started toward the blast doors.

“I’ll also stay,” Thrass said.

Ar’alani stopped in midstep. “What?”

“I’m also not under Chiss military command,” Thrass said. “And Aristocra Charorm’bintrano didn’t mention me, either.”

Ar’alani sent a hard look at Thrawn. “We’ll both be destroyed by this,” she warned.

“The role of a warrior is to protect the Chiss people,”

Thrawn reminded her. “The warrior’s own survival is of only secondary importance.”

For half a dozen heartbeats the two of them locked gazes. Then, with a hissing sigh, Ar’alani turned to Thrass.

“Pesfavri is the nearest Defense Fleet base,” she said. “You know the coordinates?”

Thrass nodded. “Yes.”

“Then we leave you,” she said, nodding to him. “May warriors’ fortune smile on your efforts.”

She continued toward the blast doors. Thrawn lingered for a last, long look at his brother, then followed.

And a minute later, Car’das and Thrass were alone.

“You really think we can get this thing all the way to a military base?” Car’das asked.

“You miss the point, friend Car’das,” Thrass saidgrimly. “Weren’t you listening to my brother? It would be better for Outbound Flight to be destroyed than to let any single family claim it.”

Car’das felt a sudden tightening in his throat. “Wait a second,” he protested. “I was just going to try to lock Outbound Flight down so that the Aristocra’s people couldn’t get aboard without blasting their way in. I didn’t sign up for a suicide mission.”

“Courage, Car’das,” Thrass assured him. “Neither did I. I assume we can set this vessel’s course to intersect the local sun, then escape in the shuttle we arrived in?”

Car’das thought it over. It should be possible, he decided, provided at least one of the Dreadnaughts’ drives was still operable and the control cables to it were intact. “I think so.”

“Then let us do it,” Thrass said. “Your people built this vessel. Tell me what to do.”

The turbolift shaft was reasonably clear, and the car reached D-4 with only a few bumps and scrapes. The Dreadnaught itself didn’t seem too badly damaged, either.

Except, of course, for all the bodies.

The medical droids had already started clearing them away, probably taking them all to one of the medical labs where, according to the droids’ now outdated programming, living beings would be waiting to give orders on how to proceed.

But there was no one to receive the corpses. Lorana stretched out with the Force and worked with the ship’s comm system, hoping against all her fears that someone might have miraculously survived the cataclysm that had overtaken Outbound Flight.

But no one answered either call. D-4, it seemed, was dead. Of defenders and attackers alike; and that Lorana found both curious and ominous. Surely the Chiss hadn’t gone to all the effort to destroy Outbound Flight simply to abandon it. But thenwhere were they?

She spent only a little time on D-4 before continuing on.

The turbolift to D-3 was inoperable, implying damage to the cars or the pylon or both, so she headed instead to D-5.

There she picked her way through the same debris and bodies and received the same negative results to her efforts at communication. D-6, the next ship on her grisly tour, was much the same.

Still, all three ships seemed to be mostly airtight again, with adequate light and heat and gravitation. The service droids had used the past few hours well. If the Chiss truly had abandoned Outbound Flight, she and the others might be able to make it at least partially operational again.

She was in the turbolift heading for D-1 when her senses caught the faint whisper of nearby life.

She pressed her head against the wall of the car, stretching out with the Force as best her own injuries and lingering horror would allow. There were definitely living beings out there. Alien beings, and not very many of them. But at least there was someone.

And she and her turbolift car were headed straight toward them.

Stepping away from the wall, she got a grip on her lightsaber. Whether by design or simple blind luck, Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo had made good on his threat to destroy Outbound Flight. And he had, moreover, destroyed it out from under Jorus C’baoth and the rest of the Jedi.

It was time to see how well the Chiss would do in a face-to-face confrontation.

The turbolift car came up short at the D-1 end of the pylon, blocked by a maze of support girders that had broken loose during the battle. Using the Force to augment her efforts,she pried open the car door and climbed through the twisted metal to the entrance door.

The turbolift pylons connected at the base of each of the Dreadnaughts, serving only Decks 1 and 2. The bridge was another four decks up, and under the circumstances it didn’t seem like a good idea to trust the Dreadnaught’s own internal turbolift system. Making her way to the nearest stairway, she headed up.

The door opened in front of him, and with a not-very-gentle nudge at the small of his back the pair of yellow-clad Chiss gestured Doriana forward.

He found himself on a command bridge similar to the one aboard the Springhawk, only bigger and crewed exclusively by Chiss in the same yellow uniforms as his escort. It made Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s black uniform stand out that much more in contrast as he stood in the center of the room before a Chiss in a gray-and-yellow robe. Behind Mitth’raw’nuruodo, a female Chiss dressed all in white stood at stiff attention.

The robed Chiss eyed Doriana as his escort again nudged him forward. He spat something in the Chiss language—

“ ‘So this is your collaborator,’ ” Mitth’raw’nuruodo translated.

“Hardly,” Doriana said, loading his voice with as much dignity and disdain as he could, just in case the robed Chiss was able to pick up on verbal cues. He had no idea of the details, but it was obvious that there was some kind of power struggle going on here.

And Kinman Doriana, assistant to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, was quite familiar with power struggles. “I’m an ambassador of a vast assembly of star systems called the Galactic Republic,” he intoned. “I came here on a mission of goodwill and exploration.”

He studied the robed Chiss carefully as Mitth’raw’nuruodo translated. But the other merely smiled cynically and spoke again. “ ‘You came to bring chaos and war to this region of space,’ ” Mitth’raw’nuruodo translated. “ ‘You havebrought alien weapons that you intended to use against the Chiss Ascendancy.’ ”

The robed Chiss straightened slightly as Mitth’raw’nuruodo finished and spoke again. “ ‘But you have failed. Those weapons are now the property of the Fifth Ruling Family. I, Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano, hereby take possession.’ ”

Doriana nodded to himself. So it was Outbound Flight and its technology that was at issue here. And he knew enough about internecine conflict to know that letting one Chiss group have sole possession of it would probably create terrible conflict with the other groups, up to and possibly including civil war.

Which would, of course, be precisely the situation Darth Sidious would want to see here. A Chiss Ascendancy entangled with its own internal problems couldn’t pose a threat to the Sith Lord’s plans for the Republic and the New Order he planned to create. Standing here in the middle of Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano’s people, all Doriana had to do was confirm the Fifth Family’s claim and he would help put the Chiss on that long and bitter road.

But as he opened his mouth to speak, he looked at Mitth’raw’nuruodo.

The commander was looking back at him, his face expressionless, his glowing eyes focused unblinkingly on him.

Doriana had already reluctantly concluded that Mitth’raw’nuruodo would have to be killed. But if that death came at the height of a controversy over the disposition of Outbound Flight… “I’m sorry, Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano, but Outbound Flight is not yours to take possession of,” he said instead. “As a duly appointed representative of the Republic that sent the project on its journey, I claim full salvage rights.”

Chaf’orm’bintrano seemed taken aback as Mitth’raw’nuruodo finished the translation. He bit something out“ ‘Ridiculous,’ ” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said. “ ‘An aggressor has no rights.’ ”

“I deny your claim that either I or Outbound Flight have behaved aggressively toward your people,” Doriana countered. “And I demand a full hearing and judgment before any Chiss steps aboard Outbound Flight.”

Mitth’raw’nuruodo translated. Chaf’orm’bintrano’s eyes narrowed, his glare shifting to the white-clad female. He said something; she replied, and the argument was on.

Doriana looked sideways at Mitth’raw’nuruodo. His face was still expressionless, but as his own eyes shifted to meet Doriana’s his lip seemed to twitch upward in a microscopic smile of approval.

Just what the commander would do with the mess that had now been stirred up Doriana didn’t know. But to his mild surprise, he discovered he was rather looking forward to finding out.

It had taken longer than Car’das had expected to get Outbound Flight prepped for flight. But at last they were ready.

“Okay, get to the helm,” he told Thrass, glancing out the canopy at the Chiss ships still hovering in the near distance. Why they hadn’t already sent over a boarding party he couldn’t guess.

Apparently, Thrawn and Ar’alani had found a way to stall them.

“Ready,” Thrass called.

Stepping to the navigation console, Car’das gave it one final check. Course set and locked in, ready to take Outbound Flight on its final voyage. Crossing to the engineering console, he settled his fingers on the power-feed controls.

“Watch out!” Thrass snapped.

Car’das spun around, expecting to see a whole squad of yellow-suited Chiss charging in on them.

But to his astonishment, he found himself facing a lone female human. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Thrass snatch a weapon out of concealment in his robe. In reply, the woman produced a short metal cylinder and a green lightsaber bladeblazed into existence.

“No!” he barked, waving a hand frantically at Thrass.

But it was too late. The other’s weapon hissed out a blue bolt, which the woman sent ricocheting harmlessly into the ceiling. “I said stop,” Car’das called again. “She’s a Jedi.”

To his relief, Thrass didn’t fire again. “What do you want?” the Chiss demanded instead, keeping his weapon aimed.

“He wants to know what you want,” Car’das said, translating the Cheunh for her.

Her eyes flicked to him. “He doesn’t speak Basic?”

“No, no one here does except Thrawn,” Car’das said.

“But he knows some Sy Bisti, if that helps.”

“It does.” She looked back at Thrass. “Who are you?”

she asked, switching to that language.

“I am Syndic Mitth’ras’safis of the Eighth Ruling Family of the Chiss Ascendancy,” Thrass identified himself.

“And I’m Jorj Car’das,” Car’das added. “Mostly an innocent bystander to all of this.”

“Mostly?”

“I got here through a hyperdrive malfunction,” he said.

“Who are you?”

“Lorana Jinzler,” she said. Lowering her lightsaber, but leaving it ignited, she crossed the threshold and continued on into the bridge, limping noticeably. Her eyes flicked across the dead bodies, and an edge of fresh pain crossed her face. “Who else is aboard?”

“At the moment, just us,” Thrass said. He hesitated, then slipped his weapon back into his tunic. “But a member of one of the ruling families is trying to claim Outbound Flight for himself. We’re trying to prevent that.”

Jinzler’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

“We’re going to have to scuttle it,” Car’das said, watching her face carefully. Even with nothing left but torn and broken metal, there was an even chance she would be attached enough to the hulk to object violently to its destruction. People went all weird like that sometimes.

Sure enough, her eyes widened. “No,” she insisted.

“You can’t.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Car’das said as soothingly as he could. “But there’s nothing left but dead metal and droids—”

“Never mind the dead metal,” she snapped. “There are people still aboard.”

Car’das felt his heart catch. No—that was impossible.

A Jedi might possibly have survived Thrawn’s attack, but surely no one else could have. “Who?” he asked. “How many?”

“Fifty-seven,” Jinzler said. “Including children.”

Car’das looked at Thrass, seeing his own horror reflected in the other’s face. “Where are they?” he asked. “Can we get them out of here?”

“In that shuttle?” Thrass countered before Jinzler could answer. “No. There isn’t enough room for even ten.”

“And it would take time to get them up here anyway,”

Jinzler said. “They’re still in the storage core.”

Car’das grimaced. The storage core. Of course—the one area Thrawn’s attack had ignored. “What do we do?”

“I don’t understand the problem,” Jinzler said, looking back and forth between them. “Why don’t we just leave?”

“For starters, we can’t fly Outbound Flight very far, not just the two of us,” Car’das said. “Not even if we had time to get your people up here to help us.”

Lorana looked around the bridge. “We won’t need them,” she said, her voice tight but firm. “I can fly Outbound Flight.”

“By yourself?” Thrass asked in clear disbelief. “One single person?”

“One single Jedi,” Jinzler corrected him. “Master C’baoth insisted we all learn to handle all of the major systems.

At least, under normal conditions.”

“The conditions here are hardly normal,” Car’das pointed out. “And it still leaves the question of where we go.

We’ll never make it back to the Republic, not with this much damage.”

“We have to reach a Defense Fleet base, as my brother originally intended,” Thrass said.

“And then what happens to my people?” Jinzler asked.

“Would they be prisoners of war? Captives held for study?”

“The Chiss aren’t like that,” Car’das insisted.

“But the end result might be the same,” Thrass conceded. “If the Fifth Ruling Family chooses to press its claim to Outbound Flight, even if we go to a military base they may demand that all aboard be placed in holding until the matter can be decided.”

“A prison by any other name,” Jinzler said grimly.

“How long would this decision process take?”

Thrass snorted. “With a prize such as Outbound Flight? It could be years.”

“So we can forget going anywhere in Chiss space,”

Car’das said. “Any idea what other habitable worlds there might be out here?”

“Even if I did, I would caution against anything nearby,” Thrass said. “This region is dangerous, with pirates andprivateers all around.”

“Not to mention what’s left of the Vagaari,” Car’das agreed with a shiver. “Come on, Thrass, think. There has to be something else we can do.”

Thrass gazed out at the Fifth Family ships. “There’s one other possibility,” he said slowly. “Within two days’ flight is a star cluster that the Defense Fleet has begun to fortify as an emergency refuge. I’ve seen the data, and there are at least ten habitable worlds within it that haven’t yet been explored.”

“Kind of an out-of-the-way homestead,” Car’das pointed out doubtfully.

“And still in Chiss space,” Jinzler added.

“But it’s a place where vessels of the Fifth Family wouldn’t accidentally discover you,” Thrass said. “Only Defense Fleet personnel go inside, and only to specific systems as they work on the fortifications.”

“So what’s the catch?” Car’das asked.

Thrass made a face. “The catch is that I don’t have the safe access routes into the cluster,” he said. “Are your navigational systems capable of finding such routes on their own?”

“Probably not,” Jinzler said. “But I might be able to.

There are Jedi navigational techniques that should be good enough to take us through even a star cluster.”

“So what happens if she can?” Car’das asked Thrass.

“They set up shop and wait for all this to blow over?”

“Or I return after they’re hidden and negotiate in secret with the Council of Families for their safe passage home,”

Thrass said.

“Even if such negotiations take a few months, the survivors will at least have a habitable world to live on.” Helooked at Jinzler. “There are other hypercapable vessels aboard that I could use, are there not?”

“Just one, a two-passenger Delta-Twelve Skysprite,”

Jinzler said. “But it should have the range you need.”

“So that’s it?” Car’das asked, not quite believing they’d hammered out something workable so quickly. “We hide Outbound Flight in this cluster, negotiate a deal with the Chiss—all the Chiss—and everyone gets what they want?”

“Basically.” Jinzler hesitated. “But then we won’t include you. I have something else I need you to do for me.” Her lips compressed. “A personal favor.”

“Like what?” Car’das asked cautiously. Doing a personal favor for a Jedi didn’t sound very appetizing.

“I want you to find my brother when you return to the Republic,” she said. “Dean Jinzler, probably working with Senate Support Services on Coruscant. Tell him—” She hesitated. “Just tell him that his sister was thinking about him, hoping that someday he’ll be able to let go of his anger. His anger at me, at our parents, and at himself.”

“All right,” Car’das said, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. The fact that she was sending him on such an errand implied she wasn’t at all sure she’d be coming back.

Given the shape Outbound Flight was in, he wouldn’t have bet on it, either. “I’ll do my best.”

For a long moment she held his eyes. Then she nodded.

“You’d better go, then,” she said. She looked down at her still-glowing lightsaber, as if suddenly realizing it was still active, and closed it down. “Please don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Good luck.” He looked at Thrass. “To both of you.”

Ten minutes later, Car’das eased the Chiss shuttle out of the Dreadnaught’s hangar and flew it clear. Turning the nose toward the waiting Fifth Family ships, he looked back over hisshoulder at the magnificent failure that had been Outbound Flight.

He wondered if anyone would ever see it again.

Doriana was gazing out the bridge canopy, listening with half an ear to the argument still going on between Chaf’orm’bintrano, Mitth’raw’nuruodo, and the female Chiss, when Outbound Flight abruptly made the jump to lightspeed.

For a moment he stared in disbelief… and then, slowly, he felt a smile tug at his lips. So that was what Mitth’raw’nuruodo had been up to with this confrontation. He’d been stalling for time while some of his people stole the Dreadnaughts right out from under Aristocra Chaf’orm’bintrano’s nose.

And even Doriana’s own attempt to muddy the Chiss waters had apparently been part of that scheme. Had Mitth’raw’nuruodo anticipated Doriana’s efforts? Or had he simply incorporated them into his own plan as they occurred?

Either way, it was artfully done. “Excuse me?” he spoke up, lifting a finger. “I believe the discussion is over.” He waited until he had their attention, then angled the upraised finger to point out the canopy. “Your prize is gone.”