"I don't believe they've merged quite yet," Thrawn said, his forehead furrowed with thought. "Nor do I believe such an alliance is inevitable. That was a Corellian leading that task force, Captain-I'm sure of that now. And there are only a few possibilities as to just who that Corellian might be."

  A stray memory clicked. "Solo is Corellian, isn't he?"

  "Yes," Thrawn confirmed. "One reason I think they're still in the negotiation stage. If their leader is who I suspect, he might well prefer sounding out a fellow Corellian before making any commitment to the Rebellion's leaders."

  To Thrawn's left, the comm pinged. `Admiral Thrawn? We have the contact you requested with the Relentless."

  "Thank you," Thrawn said, tapping a switch. In front of the double circle of repeater displays a three-quartersized hologram of an elderly Imperial officer appeared, standing next to what appeared to be a detention block control board. "Grand Admiral," the image said, nodding gravely.

  "Good day, Captain Dorja," Thrawn nodded back.

  "You have the prisoner I asked for?"

  "Right here, sir," Dorja said. He glanced to the side and gestured; and from off-camera a rather bulky human appeared, his hands shackled in front of him, his expression studiously neutral behind his neatly trimmed board. "His name's Niles Ferrier," Dorja said. "We picked him and his crew up during the raid on New Cov."

  "The raid from which Skywalker, Solo, and Calrissian escaped," Thrawn said.

  Dorja winced. "Yes, sir."

  Thrawn shifted his attention to Ferrier. "Captain Ferrier," he nodded. "Our records indicate that you specialize in space ship theft. Yet you were picked up on New Cov with a cargo of biomolecules aboard your ship. Would you care to explain?"

  Ferrier shrugged fractionally. "Palming ships isn't something you can do every day," he said. "It takes opportunities and planning. Taking the occasional shipping job helps make ends meet.

  "You're aware, of course, that the biomolecules were undeclared."

  "Yes, Captain Dorja told me that," Ferrier said with just the right mixture of astonishment and indignation. "Believe me, if I'd known I was being made a party to such cheating against the Empire-"

  "I presume you're also aware," Thrawn cut him off, "that for such actions I can not only confiscate your cargo, but also your ship."

  Ferrier was aware of that, all right. Pellaeon could see it in the pinched look around his eyes. "I've been very helpful to the Empire in the past, Admiral," he said evenly. "I've smuggled in loads of contraband from the New Republic, and only recently delivered three Sienar patrol ships to your people."

  "And were paid outrageous sums of money in all cases," Thrawn reminded him. "If you're trying to suggest we owe you for past kindnesses, don't bother. However : there may be a way for you to pay back this new debt. Did you happen to notice the ships attacking the Relentless as you were trying to sneak away from the planet?"

  "Of course I did," Ferrier said, a touch of wounded professional pride creeping into his voice. "They were Rendili StarDrive Dreadnaughts. Old ones, by the look of them, but spry enough. Probably undergone a lo of refitting."

  "They have indeed." Thrawn smiled slightly. "I want them."

  It took Ferrier a handful of seconds for the offhanded sounding comment to register. When it did, his mouth dropped open. "You mean : me?"

  "Do you have a problem with that?" Thrawn asked coldly.

  "Uh :" Ferrier swallowed. "Admiral, with all due respect-"

  "You have three standard months to get me either those ships or else their precise location," Thrawn cut him off. "Captain Dorja?"

  Dorja stepped forward again. "Sir."

  "You will release Captain Ferrier and his crew and supply them with an unmarked Intelligence freighter to use. Their own ship will remain aboard the Relentless until they've completed their mission."

  "Understood," Dorja nodded.

  Thrawn cocked an eyebrow. "One other thing, Captain Ferrier. On the off chance that you might feel yourself tempted to abandon the assignment and make a run for it, the freighter you'll be given will be equipped with an impressive and totally unbreakable doomsday mechanism. With exactly three standard months set on its clock. I trust you understand."

  Above his beard, Ferrier's face had gone a rather sickly white. "Yes," he managed.

  "Good." Thrawn shifted his attention back to Dorja. "I leave the details in your hands, Captain. Keep me informed of developments."

  He tapped a switch, and the hologram faded away. "As I said, Captain," Thrawn said, turning to Pellaon. "I don't think an alliance with the Rebellion is necessarily inevitable."

  "If Ferrier can pull it off"' Pellaeon said doubtfully.

  "He has a reasonable chance," Thrawn assured him. "After all, we have a general idea ourselves of where they might be hidden. We just don't have the time and manpower at the moment to properly root them out. Even if we did, a large-scale attack would probably end up destroying the Dreadnaughts, and I'd rather capture them intact."

  "Yes, sir," Pellaeon said grimly. The word capture had reminded him of why he'd come here in the first place. "Admiral, the report on Khabarakh's ship has come in from the scanning team." He held the data card over the double display circle.

  For a moment Thrawn's glowing red eyes burned into Pellaeon's face, as if trying to read the reason for his subordinate's obvious tension. Then, wordlessly, he took the data card from the captain's hand and slid it into his reader. Pellaeon waited, tight-lipped, as the Grand Admiral skimmed the report.

  Thrawn reached the end and leaned back in his seat, his face unreadable. "Wookiee hairs," he said.

  "Yes, sir," Pellaeon nodded. "All over the ship."

  Thrawn was silent another few heartbeats. "Your interpretation?"

  Pellaeon braced himself "I can only see one, sir. Khabarakh didn't escape from the Wookiees on Kashyyyk at all. They caught him : and then let him go."

  "After a month of imprisonment." Thrawn looked up at Pellaeon. "And interrogation."

  "Almost certainly," Pellaeon agreed. "The question is, what did he tell them?"

  "There's one way to find out." Thrawn tapped on the comm. "Hangar bay, this is the Grand Admiral. Prepare my shuttle; I'm going to the surface. I'll want a troop shuttle and double squad of stormtroopers ready to accompany me, plus two flights of Scimitar assault bombers to provide air cover."

  He got an acknowledgment and keyed off. "It may be, Captain, that the Noghri have forgotten where their loyalties lie," he told Pellaeon, standing up and stepping out around the displays. "I think it's time they were reminded that the Empire commands here. You'll return to the bridge and prepare a suitable demonstration."

  "Yes, sir." Pellaeon hesitated. "Do you want merely a reminder and not actual destruction?"

  Thrawn's eyes blazed. "For the moment, yes," he said, his voice icy. "Let them all pray that I don't change my mind."

  Chapter 12

  It was the smell Leia noticed first as she drifted slowly awake: a smoky smell, reminiscent of the wood fires of the Ewoks of Endor but with a tangy sharpness all its own. A warm, homey sort of aroma, reminding her of the campouts she'd had as a child on Alderaan.

  And then she woke up enough to remember where she was. Full consciousness flooded in, and she snapped open her eyes-

  To find herself lying on a rough pallet in a corner of the Noghri communal bake house. Exactly where she'd been when she'd fallen asleep the night before.

  She sat up, feeling relieved and a little ashamed. What with that unexpected visit last night by the Grand Admiral, she realized she'd half expected to wake up in a Star Destroyer detention cell. Clearly, she'd underestimated the Noghri's ability to stick by their promises.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her it had been a long time since she'd eaten; a little lower down, one of the twins kicked a reminder of his own. "Okay," she soothed. "I get the hint. Breakfast time."

  She tore the top off a ration bar from one of her cases and took a bite, looking aroun
d the bake house as she chewed. Against the wall by the door, the double pallet that had been laid out for Chewbacca to sleep on was empty. For a moment the fear of betrayal again whispered to her; but a little concentration through the Force silenced any concerns. Chewbacca was somewhere nearby, with a sense that gave no indication of danger. Relax, she ordered herself sternly, pulling a fresh jumpsuit out of her case and starting to get dressed. Whatever these Noghri were, it was clear they weren't savages. They were honorable people, in their own way, and they wouldn't turn her over to the Empire. At least, not until they'd heard her out.

  She downed the last bite of ration bar and finished dressing, making sure as always that her belt didn't hang too heavily across her increasingly swollen belly. Retrieving her lightsaber from its hiding place under the edge of the pallet, she fastened it prominently to her side. Khabarakh, she remembered, had seemed to find reassurance of her identity in the presence of the Jedi weapon; hopefully, the rest of the Noghri would also respond that way. Stepping to the bake house door, she ran through her Jedi calming exercises and went outside.

  Three small Noghri children were playing with an inflatable ball in the grassy area outside the door, their grayish-white skin glistening with perspiration in the bright morning sunlight. A sunlight that wasn't going to last, Leia saw: a uniform layer of dark clouds extending all the way to the west was even now creeping its way east toward the rising sun. All for the best; a thick layer of clouds would block any direct telescopic observations the Star Destroyer up there might make of the village, as well as diffusing the non-Noghri infrared signatures she and Chewbacca were giving off.

  She looked back down, to find that the three children had halted their game and formed a straight line in front of her. "Hello," she said, trying a smile on them.

  The child in the middle stepped forward and dropped to his knees in an awkward but passable imitation of his elders' gesture of respect. "Male'ary'ush," he mewed. "Miskh 'hara isf chrak 'mi 'sokh. Mires kha."

  "I see," Leia said, wishing fervently that she had Threepio with her. She was just wondering if she should risk calling him on the comlink when the child spoke again. "Hai ghreet yhou, Mal'ary'ush," he said, the Basic words coming out mangled but understandable. "The maitrakh whaits for you bin the dukha."

  "Thank you," Leia nodded gravely to him. Door wardens last night; official greeters this morning. Noghri children seemed to be introduced early into the rituals and responsibilities of their culture. "Please escort me to her."

  The child made the respect gesture again and got back to his feet, heading off toward the large circular structure that Khabarakh had landed next to the night before. Leia followed, the other two children taking up positions to either side of her. She found herself throwing short glances at them as they walked, wondering at the light color of their skin. Khabarakh's skin was a steel gray; the maitrakh's had been much darker. Did the Noghri consist of several distinct racial types? Or was the darkening a natural part of their aging process? She made a mental note to ask Khabarakh about it when she had a chance.

  The dukha, seen now in full daylight, was far more elaborate than she'd realized. The pillars spaced every few meters around the wall seemed to be composed of whole sections of tree trunk, stripped of bark and smoothed to a black marble finish. The shimmery wood that made up the rest of the wall was covered to perhaps half its height with intricate carvings. As they got closer, she could see that the reinforcing metal band that encircled the building just beneath the eaves was also decorated leafily, the Noghri believed in combining function and art. The whole structure was perhaps twenty meters across and four meters high, with another three or four meters for the conical roof and she found herself wondering how many more pillars they'd had to put inside to support the thing.

  Tall double doors had been built into the wall between two of the pillars, flanked at the moment by two straight-backed Noghri children. They pulled open the doors as Leia approached; nodding her thanks, she stepped inside.

  The interior of the dukha was no less impressive than its exterior. It was a single open room, with a thronelike chair two-thirds of the way to the back, a small booth with an angled roof and a dark-meshed window built against the wall between two of the pillars to the right, and a wall chart of some sort directly across from it on the left. There were no internal support pillars; instead, a series of heavy chains had been strung from the top of each of the wall pillars to the edge of a large concave dish hanging over the center of the room. From inside the dish-just inside its rim, Leia decided-hidden lights played upward against the ceiling, providing a softly diffuse illumination.

  A few meters in front of the chart a group of perhaps twenty small children were sitting in a semicircle around Threepio, who was holding forth in their language with what was obviously some kind of story, complete with occasional sound effects. It brought to mind the condensed version of their struggle against the Empire that he'd given the Ewoks, and Leia hoped the droid would remember not to vilify Darth Vader here. Presumably he would; she'd drummed the point into him often enough during the voyage.

  A small movement off to the left caught her eye: Chewbacca and Khabarakh were sitting facing each other on the other side of the door, engaged in some kind of quiet activity that seemed to involve hands and wrists. The Wookiee had paused and was looking questioningly in her direction. Leia nodded her assurance that she was all right, trying to read from his sense just what he and Khabarakh were doing. At least it didn't seem to involve ripping the Noghri's arms out of their sockets; that was something, anyway.

  "Lady Vader," a gravelly Noghri voice said. Leia turned back to see the maitrakh walking up to her. "I greet you. You slept well?"

  "Quite well," Leia told her. "Your hospitality has been most honorable." She looked over at Threepio, wondering if she should call him back to his duties as translator.

  The maitraich misunderstood. "It is the history time for the children," she said. "Your machine graciously volunteered to tell to them the last story of our lord Darth Vader."

  Vader's final, self-sacrificial defiance against the Emperor, with Luke's life hanging in the balance. "Yes," Leia murmured. "It took until the end, but he was finally able to rid himself of the Emperor's web of deception."

  For a moment the maitrakh was silent. Then, she stirred. "Walk with me, Lady Vader."

  She turned and began walking along the wall. Leia joined her, noticing for the first time that the dukha's inner walls were decorated with carvings, too. A historical record of their family? "My thirdson has gained a new respect for your Wookiee," she said, gesturing toward Chewbacca and Khabarakh. "Our lord the Grand Admiral came last eve seeking proof that my thirdson had deceived him about his flying craft being broken. Because of your Wookiee, he found no such proof."

  Leia nodded. "Yes, Chewie told me last night about gimmicking the ship. I don't have his knowledge of spaceship mechanics, but I know it can't be easy to fake a pair of linked malfunctions the way he did. It's fortunate for all of us he had the foresight and skill to do so."

  "The Wookiee is not of your family or clan," the maitrakh said. "Yet you trust him, as if he were a friend?"

  Leia took a deep breath. "I never knew my true father, the Lord Vader, as I was growing up. I was instead taken to Alderaan and raised by the Viceroy as if I were his own child. On Alderaan, as seems to also be the case here, family relationships were the basis of our culture and society. I grew up memorizing lists of aunts and uncles and cousins, learning how to place them in order of closeness to my adoptive line." She gestured to Chewbacca. "Chewie was once merely a good friend. Now, he is part of my family. As much a part as my husband and brother are.

  They were perhaps a quarter of the way around the dukha before the maitrakh spoke again. "Why have you come here?"

  "Khabarakh told me his people needed help," Leia said simply. "I thought there might be something I could do."