Adventure Journal – 12 & 13 - Side Trip by Timothy Zahn & Michael A. Stackpole Part One by Timothy Zahn The hazy edge of the planet was just disappearing from beneath the Hopskip's control room viewport, and Ha-ber Trell was trying to nurse a little more power from the ship's as-always finicky engines, when his partner finally reappeared from her tour aft. "Took you long enough," Trell commented as she dropped into the copilot seat beside him. "Any trouble?" "No more than usual," Maranne Darmic told him, digging a hand underneath the silvered clasp tying her dark blond hair back out of the way and scratching vigorously at her scalp. "The cargo straps managed to hold through that classic signature liftoff of yours. I'd say we didn't get rid of all the itch mites in the hold, though." "Never mind the vermin," Trell growled. Next time they had a twenty-grade unbalanced cargo, he promised himself darkly, he'd make her do the liftoff. See how smoothly she managed it. "How about our passengers?" Maranne sniffed. "I thought you didn't want to hear about vermin." "Watch it, kiddo," Trell warned. "They're paying good money for us to smuggle these blasters out to Derra IV." "And obviously don't trust us ten centimeters with them," Maranne countered. "They wouldn't be babysitting them like this if they did." Trell shrugged. "Can't say I really blame them for being cautious." Ever since that big defeat or whatever it was out in the Yavin system, the Empire's been spitting fire in ú fifteen directions at once. I've heard that some of the independents hauling Rebellion stuff decided it was safer to take the advance money, dump the cargo, and burn space for better havens." "Yeah, well, I don't like hauling for desperate people," Maranne said, shifting the focal point of her scratching to a spot farther down the back of her neck. "They make me nervous." "If they weren't desperate, they wouldn't be paying so well," Trell pointed out reasonably. "Don't worry, this'll be the last time we have to deal with them." "I've heard that before," Maranne said, sniffing again. The proximity-sensor alert began to warble, and she leaned forward to key for a readout. "Sure, this'll pay for the engine upgrades you want; but then you'll want sensor upgrades, and-" She broke off. "What?" Trell demanded. "Star Destroyer," she said grimly, activating the weapons section of her board and keying in the power boosters. "Coming up fast behind us." "Terrific," Trell growled, checking the nav computer. If they could escape to lightspeed... but no, the ship was still too close to the planet. "What's their vector?" "Straight toward us," Maranne told him. "I suppose it's too late to dump the cargo and try to look innocent." "Freighter Hopskip, this is Captain Niriz of the Imperial Star Destroyer Admonitor," a gruff voice boomed from the speaker. "I'd like a word with you aboard my ship, if I may. The last word was punctuated by a single gentle shiver running through the deck beneath them as a tractor beam locked on. "Yeah, I'd say it's definitely too late to dump the cargo," Trell sighed. "Let's hope they're just on a fishing expedition." He keyed for transmission. "This is Haber Trell aboard the Hopskip," he said. "We'd be honored to speak with you, Captain." "Well," Captain Niriz said, his voice echoing across the vast emptiness of the hangar deck as he eyed the four beings standing in front of him. "Most interesting. Our records show the Hopskip as having two crew members, not four." His gaze paused on Riij Winward. "Newly hired, are you?" "Our previous ship had to leave Tramanos in something of a hurry," Riij told him, striving to keep his voice casual. The fake ID the Rebellion had provided him was a good one, but if the Imperials decided to dig past it they would undoubtedly come up with his recent connection with the Mos Eisley police on Tatooine. That wasn't a connection he was anxious for them to find. "We needed a ride to Shibric," he continued, "and since Captain Trell was going that way, he was kind enough to offer us passage." "For a hefty fee, I imagine," Niriz said, his eyes shifting to the muscular Tunroth standing at Riij's right. "Rare to see a Tunroth in these parts. You're a certified Hunter, I presume?" "Shturlan, "Rathe Pairor rumbled, his voice almost sub-sonic. "That's a twelfth-class Hunter," Riij translated, trying to draw Niriz's attention back to him. Palror's distinguished service with Churhee's Riflemen would raise even more eyebrows than Riij's own record if the Imperials found it. "Excellent," Niriz said. "A Hunter's talents may prove useful on this mission." At Riij's left, Trell cleared his throat. "Mission?" he asked carefully. "Yes." Niriz gestured, and a lieutenant standing beside him stepped forward and offered Trell a datapad. "I want you to take a cargo to Corellia for me." "Excuse me?" Trell asked carefully as he took the datapad. "You want me to-?" "I need a civilian freighter for this job," Niriz said. His voice was gruff, but Riij could hear a distinct undertone of distaste. "I don't have one. You do. I also don't have time to locate someone else to do the job. You're here. You're it." Riij craned his neck to look over Trell's shoulder at the datapad, his earlier trepidation about their IDs and cargo giving way to cautious excitement. For a Star Destroyer captain to ask for help of any sort-especially from a scruffy civilian freighter pilot-was practically unheard of. It implied urgency and desperation; and anything that bothered a senior Imperial officer that much was definitely something a good Rebel agent ought to look into. "What do you think?" he prompted. Trell shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "It'll throw our schedule all to blazes and back." Riij ran a series of highly vulgar words through his mind, making sure the frustration didn't show on his face. Trell, unfortunately, was not a Rebel agent, good or otherwise, and he clearly wanted nothing to do with any of this. "It wouldn't take all that long," he cajoled carefully. "And all good citizens have a duty to help out." "No," Trell said firmly, offering the datapad back to the lieutenant. "I'm sorry, Captain, but we just don't have time. Our cargo's due on Shibric-" "Your cargo consists of six hundred cases of Pashkin sausages," Niriz interrupted coldly. "I presume you're aware that the governor has recently decreed that all foodstuff exports now require an Imperial license." Trell's mouth dropped open a couple of millimeters. "That's impossible," he said. "I mean, the inspectors didn't say anything about that." "Just how recent was this decree?" Maranne asked suspiciously. Niriz gave her a thin smile. "Approximately ten minutes ago." Riij felt his stomach tighten. Urgency and desperation, indeed. "off-hand, I'd say we've been set up," he murmured to Trell. Niriz's eyes flicked to Riij, returned to Trell. "I am, however, prepared to waive that requirement this one time," he continued. "Provided you're prepared in turn to deliver your sausages a little late. " "As opposed to not delivering them at all.>" Trell countered. Niriz shrugged. "Something like that." Trell looked at Maranne, who shrugged. "It's a two-day round trip to Corellia from here," she said. "Add in delivery time, and we're talking three days, tops. It'll be a scramble, but our schedule can probably absorb that." "Not that we have much choice in the matter." Trell looked back at Niriz. "I guess we'd be delighted to help you out, Captain. What's the cargo, and when do we leave?" "The cargo is two hundred small boxes," Niriz said. "That's all you need to know about it. As for departure, you'll leave as soon as your sausages are offloaded and the new cargo put aboard." At Riij's side, Pairor rumbled again, and Riij had to fight to keep his own face expressionless. If some bored Imperial took it into his head to poke around beneath the top three layers of sausages in each box... "Don't worry, we'll keep them cool," Niriz promised. "There won't be any spoilage." "I'm sure they'll be safe," Trell said. "Where does this cargo of your's go?" "Your guide will fill you in on those details," Niriz said, gesturing behind them. Riij turned to look-And felt the breath catch in his throat. Stepping around the stern of the Hopskip toward them, his stained Mandalorian armor glittering in the overhead light-Trell swore under his breath. "Boba Fett." "It's not Fett," Niriz corrected. "Merely, shall we say, an admirer of his." "A former admirer," the armored figure corrected, his voice dark and muffled. "The name is Jodo Kast. And I'm better than Fett." "Not that that means much," Niriz said, his lip twisting. "I've always found that a competent stormtrooper could handle any three bounty hunters without working up a sweat." "Don't push it, Niriz," Kast warned. "Right now you need me more than I need this job." "I need you less than you might think," Niriz retorted. "Certainly less than you need an Imperial pardon for that mess you left on Borkyne-" "Gentlemen, please," Trell jumped in hastily. "I'm a businessman, with a schedule to keep. Whatever your differences, I'm sure you can lay them aside until this job is finished." Niriz was still glowering, but he gave a reluctant nod. "You're right, Merchant. Fine. You and your crew can rest in the ready room over there until the cargo's been transferred. As for you're" He leveled a finger at Kast. "I'd like to see you in the bay control office. There are a few things I want to make sure you understand." Kast nodded gravely. "Of course. Lead the way." Niriz stepped into the bay control office, the armored figure striding in right behind him. The door slid closed; and at long last Niriz could let the unnatural stiffness drain out of his posture. "I'm afraid I'm not very good at this, sir," he apologized. "I hope I did all right." "You did just fine, Captain," the other assured him, reaching up to twist his helmet free and pull it off. "Between this armor and your performance all four of them are completely convinced that I'm Jodo Kast." "I hope so, sir," Niriz said, his stomach tight with concern as he gazed at those glowing red eyes. "Admiral... I have to say one last time that I don't think you should do this. At least not personally." "Your concern is noted," Grand Admiral Thrawn said, running a gauntleted hand through his blue-black hair. "And appreciated, as well. But this is something I can't delegate to anyone else." Niriz shook his head. "I wish I could say I understood." "You will," Thrawn promised. "Assuming this plays out as anticipated, you'll have the entire story when I return." Niriz smiled, thinking about all the campaigns he and the Grand Admiral had been through together out in the Unknown Regions. "When hasn't something you planned gone as anticipated?" he asked dryly. Thrawn smiled faintly in return. "Any number of times, Captain," he said. "Fortunately, I've usually been able to improvise an alternate approach." "That you have, sir." Niriz sighed. "I still wish you'd reconsider. We could put one of my stormtroopers in the Mandalorian armor, and you could direct him by comlink from somewhere nearby." Thrawn shook his head. "Too slow and awkward. Besides, Thyne's fortress will certainly have a full-spectrum surveillance set up. They'd pick up any such transmission and either tap in or jam it." Niriz took a deep breath. "Yes, sir." Thrawn smiled again. "Don't worry, Captain, I'll be fine. Don't forget, there's an Imperial garrison nearby. If necessary, I can always call on them for help." He slid the helmet back over his head and fastened it in place. "I'd better go supervise the cargo transfer-we wouldn't want Merchant Trell's precious sausages to be damaged. I'll see you in a few days." "Yes, sir," Niriz said. "Good luck, Admiral." It was called Treasure Ship Row, and it was billed as the most exotic and eclectic trading bazaar anywhere in the Empire. Dozens of booths and shops of every size and description ran its length, with hundreds more nestled up against its edges, weaving in and out of Coronet City proper. Humans and aliens sat at open-air counters or stood beside doorways, hawking their wares to the thousands of beings jostling their way through the narrow streets. A vibrant, exciting place; but for Trell, a bit intimidating as well. The merchant part of him was intrigued by the range of merchandise available, as well as by the variety of potential customers an enterprising dealer could sell those goods to. But at the same time the part of him that had driven him into the isolation of space in the first place felt distinctly ill at ease in the middle of such crowds. Maranne, walking beside him, didn't seem to feel any such discomfort. Neither did the two Rebel agents, striding along behind him. As for Kast, in the lead, he doubted any of them could tell what he was feeling. Or cared, for that matter. "Where exactly are we going?" Maranne asked, taking an extra long step to get in close behind Kast. "This way," Kast said, veering through the crowd toward the side. The others followed, and a moment later all five were standing in the narrow walkway between two shuttered booths. "Here?" Trell demanded. "The booth you want is five ahead on the left," Kast told them. "Curio shop-owner's named Sajsh. You-" he pointed a gloved finger at Trell "-will tell him you have a cargo for Borbor Crisk and ask for delivery instructions." "What about the rest of us?" Riij asked. "You'll go out first," Kast said. "Stay out of the conversation, but watch and listen." Trell looked out into the flow of the crowd, a shiver running down his neck. Something about this didn't feel right, but it was too late to back out now. "Maranne, make sure you're where you can cover me," he told her. "There will be no shooting," Kast assured him. "Glad to hear it," Maranne said. "You don't mind if I cover him anyway?" Kast's invisible eyes seemed to bore into hers through the helmet visor. "As you wish," he said. "All of you: move." Wordlessly, the others filed out into the crowd, Kast bringing up the rear. Trell gave them a count of fifty to find their positions, then followed. The curio shop was easy to find: a small, somewhat dilapidated open-air booth with an enclosed back room that had been inexpertly added on long enough ago to look almost as moldering as the booth itself. A lizardine creature of an unfamiliar species was leaning on the counter, watching the crowds passing by. Taking a deep breath, Trell stepped over to him. The lizard looked up as Trell approached, his alien expression unreadable. "Good day, good sir," he said in adequate Basic. "I am Sajsh, proprietor of this humble establishment. May I be of assistance?" "I hope so," Trell said. "I have a cargo for someone named Borbor Crisk. I was told you could give me delivery instructions." A three-forked tongue darted briefly from the scaled mouth. "You have been misinformed," he said. "I know no one by that name." "Oh?" Trell said, taken aback. "Are you sure?" The tongue flicked again. "Do you doubt my word?" the alien spat. "Or merely my memory or intelligence?" "No, no," Trell said hastily. "Not at all. I just... my source seemed so sure this was the place." Sajsh opened his mouth wide. "Perhaps he was only slightly incorrect. Perhaps he meant the shop to my kill-hand." He pointed to his right, to an equally dilapidated booth that was currently closed up. "The proprietor will return at the seven-hour. You can return then and ask him." "I'll do that," Trell promised. "Thank you." The lizard snapped his jaws together twice. Nodding, Trell turned and pushed his way back into the stream of pedestrians, face hot with embarrassment and annoyance. "Well?" Maranne demanded, sidling up beside him. "Kast had the wrong place," Trell growled, glancing around. But the bounty hunter was nowhere to be seen. "Where are the others?" "We're right here," Riij said, coming up through the crowd behind him. "Kast said to head back down the street and he'd meet us." "Good," Trell said tartly. "I've got a few things to say to our esteemed bounty hunter. Let's go." ajsh and the unknown man finished their conversation, and the latter moved away back into the mass of browsers and shoppers. Two booths over, Corran Horn set down the melon he'd been examining and eased into the flow behind him. The stranger didn't seem to be trying to lose himself in the crowd. Though any such effort would have been quickly negated by the company he linked up with: a hard-eyed, competent-looking woman, a young man about Corran's own age, and a yellow-skinned alien with several short horns protruding from his chin. For a moment the four of them conversed; then, with the contact man leading the way, they continued on down the street. At the edge of Corran's vision, a heavyset figure stepped to his side. "Trouble?" "I don't know, Dad," Corran said. "You see that foursome up there? Tooled brown jacket, blondish woman, white-spiked collar, yellow-skinned alien?" "Yes," Hal Horn nodded. "The alien's a Tunroth, by the way. Fairly rare outside their home system; most of the ones you run into these days work with high-stakes safaris, mercenaries, or bounty hunters." "Interesting," Corran said. "Possibly significant, too. Brown Jacket just waltzed up to Sajsh's booth and tried to make a delivery to Borbor Crisk." "Did he, now," Hal said thoughtfully. "Have Crisk and Zekka Thyne patched up their differences while I wasn't looking?" "If they did, I wasn't looking either," Corran told him. "Either Brown Jacket and his pals are incredibly stupid, or else something very odd is going on." "Either way, I doubt Thyne will simply pass on it," Hal said. "Did Brown Jacket happen to mention where they could be contacted?" "No, but Sajsh has that covered," Corran said. "He said they might want the owner of the booth next to his and suggested they come back about seven." "Where they'll be asked to have a quiet conversation with a group of Black Sun heavies." Hal stretched his neck to peer over the crowd. "Well, well-the plot thickens. Look who our innocents have hooked up with." Corran rose up on tiptoes. There was Brown Jacket and his friends; and with them - "I'll be shragged," he breathed. "Is that Boba Fett?" "No, I don't think so," Hal said. "Possibly Jodo Kast, though I'd have to get a closer look at the armor to be sure." "Well, whoever it is, we've definitely moved into the big time," Corran pointed out. "Mandalorian armor doesn't come cheap." "When you can find it at all," the elder Horn agreed. "This is getting odder by the minute. I take it you've had some thoughts already?" "Only one, really," Corran said. The group was moving off again, and he and his father set off to follow. "Thyne wouldn't be stupid enough to kill them out of hand, certainly not until he knows who they are and what their connection is to Crisk. That probably means bringing them to the fortress." "And you think you might be able to invite yourself along?" "I know it's risky-" "'Risky' isn't exactly the word I had in mind," Hal interrupted. "Getting into the fortress is only the first step, you know. You think you'll be able to simply march up to Thyne, slap the restraints on him in the name of Corellian Security, and march him out?" "We do have the legal authority to do that, you know," Corran reminded him. "Which means nothing at all inside his stronghold," Hal countered. "You have any idea how many CorSec agents have gone after top Black Sun lieutenants like Thyne and simply vanished?" Corran grimaced. "I know," he said. "But that's not going to happen this time. And if getting into the fortress is only the first step, it still is the first step." The elder Horn shook his head. "'Risky' still doesn't begin to cover it. For starters, we don't even know what game Brown Jacket and his Mandalorian friend are playing." "Then it's time we found out," Corran said. "Let's stay close and see if we can find an opportunity to introduce ourselves." They had gone perhaps two blocks-though where Kast was leading them Trell hadn't the faintest idea-when they heard the shout. "What was that?" Riij demanded, looking around. "There," Pairor rumbled, pointing his thick central finger to the left. "Argument starting." Trell craned his neck. There was an open-air tapcafe that direction, with a long serving bar at the rear and perhaps twenty small tables spread out in the open space in front of it beneath a wide, Karvrish-style woven-leaf canopy. A slightly built man wearing a proprietor's apron was standing in the middle of the dining area, a half dozen large and rough-looking men wearing mercenary shoulder patches looming in a threatening circle around him. The chairs from a nearby table were scattered back or lying on the ground, indicating a quick and unruly departure from them. "I think the argument's over," he said. "It's gone straight to trouble now." "Come on," Riij said, angling that direction. "Let's check it out." "Leave it alone," Kast ordered. "It's none of our business." But Riij and Pairor were already heading off through the crowd. "Blast," Trell growled. Stupid idealistic gornt-brained Rebels-"Come on, Maranne." A line of onlookers had started to form at the edge of the tapcafe by the time he and Maranne broke through the stream of pedestrians. Riij and Pairor were already to the mercenaries, who had opened their circle around the tapcafe proprietor in order to face this new distraction. And now Trell could see something he hadn't been able to before. Standing beside the proprietor, clinging tightly to his waist in terror, was a young girl. Probably his daughter; certainly no more than seven years old. Trell hissed a curse between his teeth. It took a particularly vile form of low-life to threaten a child. But that didn't mean he was going to follow Riij's lead and charge in blindly like a mad Jedi Knight on Cracian thumper- back. "Backup left," he murmured to Maranne. "I'll take right." "Right," she murmured back. Dropping his hand casually onto the grip of his blaster, Trell started drifting behind the ring of onlookers to the rightw And with a suddenness that startled him, the fight started. Not with blasters, which had been his main fear, but 'with hands and feet as the two closest mercenaries lashed out at Riij and Pairor. With three-to-one odds on their side, the mercs must have felt weapons to be unnecessary. They got a shock. Riij had clearly had some good training in unarmed combat, and Pairor was a lot faster than Trell would have guessed from the alien's bulk. Riij's counterattack sent his opponent reeling back; Palror's threw his merc slamming back with a horrendous crash into one of the other tables, sending it spinning and scattering its chairs across the floor. Someone swore viciously. The downed merc scrambled to his feet and rejoined his comrades, their former casual semicircle now reformed into a deadly, no-nonsense combat line facing their attackers. The proprietor had taken advantage of the distraction to hustle his daughter back across to the bar; heaving her up and over to the relative safety behind it, he turned back to watch. For a long moment the combatants stood motionless facing each other. Trell kept drifting toward his chosen backup position, his eyes on the mercs, his hand tightening on his blaster. Would they draw now, in which case Riij and Pairor were probably dead? Or would sheer pride dictate they beat such insolent opponents bloody with their bare hands? The watching crowd was obviously wondering the same thing. Trell could feel their tension, their excitement, their bloodlust... And then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement to his left. The mercs caught it, too, anger-filled eyes shifting that direction-Their expressions changed, just slightly. Frowning, Trell risked a look of his own. Jodo Kast had stepped forward out of the ring of onlookers. For a moment the bounty hunter just stood there, gazing silently at the scene. Then, stepping to one of the tables at the edge of the tapcafe, he pulled out a chair and sat down. Crossing his legs casually beneath the table, he folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head slightly to one side. "Well?" he asked mildly. And with that one word the decision was made. No mercenary with a speck's worth of professional pride was going to use weapons against outnumbered opponents who hadn't themselves drawn. Not with a bounty hunter like Jodo Kast watching. Roaring obscure and probably obscene battle cries, the mercs waded in. At that first exchange Riij and Palror had had the element of surprise. This time they didn't. They did their best, certainly-and still better than Trell would have expected given the odds-but in the end they really had no chance. Less than ninety seconds after that battle roar, both Riij and Pairor were on the floor, along with two of the mercs. The remaining four, not all of them looking all that steady on their feet, were grouped around them. One of them looked around, jabbed a finger toward the proprietor cowering at the bar. "Them first," he snarled, breathing heavily. "You next." "No," Kast said. The merc spun around to face him, almost losing his balance in the process as a damaged knee tried to buckle under him. "No what?" he demanded. "I said no," Kast told him. His hands were in his lap now, concealed under the table, but his legs were still casually crossed. "You've had your fun; but I need them alive." "Yeah?" the mere snarled. "What, you got a bounty to collect on them?" "You've had your fun," Kast repeated, but this time there was frosty metal glittering in his voice. "Leave it and go. Now." "You think so, huh?" the mere spat. "And who do you think's gonna stop-?" And abruptly, right in the middle of his sentence, he dropped his hand to his blaster and yanked it from its holster. It was an old trick, and one that had probably given the mere the desired edge in many a facedown. Unfortunately for him, it was a trick Trell had seen used countless times before; and even before the other's hand had reached his blaster grip Trell was hauling out his own weapon. At the other side of the ring of bystanders he spotted Maranne also drawing-The mere had good reflexes, all right. In that split second he froze, his weapon not quite cleared of its holster; staring from beneath thick eyebrows at the four blasters suddenly pointed at him from the circle of people around the tapcafe. Trell blinked as it suddenly registered. Four blasters? Four. Two people down from Maranne, a bulky middle-aged man also had a blaster trained steadily on the mercs... and out of the corner of his eye, Trell could see the fourth blaster sticking out from his side of the crowd. Held with equal steadiness. The merc spat. "So that's how you want to play it, huh?" "We're not playing," Kast said icily. "As I said: leave it and go. If you don't-" Trell never saw the warning twitch he was watching for. But Kast obviously did. Even as the merc started to haul his blaster the rest of the way free of its holster there was the brilliant flash of a blaster bolt from the direction of the bounty hunter's table, and a roar of rage from the merc as his holster and the blaster muzzle behind it shattered. "-I promise you will regret it," Kast finished calmly. "This is your final chance." The merc looked like he was about two seconds short of a complete berserk rage. But even furious and with a burned gun hand, he was in control enough to know when the odds were stacked too high against him. "I'll be watching for you, bounty hunter," he breathed, straightening up from his combat crouch. "We'll finish this some other time." Kast bowed his head slightly. "Whenever you're tired of life, mercenary." The merc gave a hand signal. The others helped their two casualties to their feet-one groggily starting to come to, the other still in need of basic portage-and the group straggled their way through the onlookers and out into the crowd. Kast waited until they were out of sight. Then, pushing back his chair, he stood up, the blaster he'd used on the merc's weapon already secreted back in whatever hidden holster it had been drawn from. "The show's over," he announced, looking around at the bystanders. "Stay and buy a drink, or get moving." The proprietor was already beside Riij and Pairor, helping the former to a sitting position, when Trell and Maranne reached them. "You all right?" Maranne asked, offering Pairor a hand. The Tunroth waved it away. "I am not hurt," he said, rolling to his feet and flexing an elbow experimentally. "I was merely temporarily disabled." "You're lucky the condition wasn't permanent," Trell reminded him. "You should have left it alone like Kast told you to." "Yeah," Riij said, holding his stomach as he got to his feet with the proprietor's assistance. "Thanks, Kast. Though I wouldn't have minded if you'd stepped in a little earlier. Say, before they started pounding on us?" "Six mercenaries wouldn't have backed down in front of three blasters," Kast told him. "I needed you to take some of them out first." He half turned. "If I'd known it would be five blasters instead of three, I might have moved sooner." Trell turned to look. The two men who'd drawn with them were standing there watching. "Thanks," he said. "I wouldn't have counted on getting that kind of help in a place like this." "No problem," the older man shrugged. "The Brommstaad Mercenaries have always had a tendency to consider themselves above the bounds of normal civilized behavior. And I've never liked it when children get threatened." "Besides which," the younger man added, "we were starting to get thirsty anyway." "Drinks?" the proprietor asked eagerly. "Of course; drinks for all of you. And meals, too, if you are hungry-the finest I have to offer." "We'll take the long table in the back," Kast said. "And some privacy." "Yes, good sir, immediately," the proprietor said. Giving them a quick bow, he scurried off toward the table Kast had indicated. "My name's Hal, by the way," the older man said. "This is my partner Corran." Trell exchanged nods with them. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Trell; this is Maranne, Riij, Pairor, andB" "Call me Kast," Kast cut him off. "Son or nephew?" Hal blinked. "What?" "Is Corran your son or nephew?" Kast amplified. "There's a family resemblance about the eyes." "People have mentioned that before," Corran spoke up. "Actually, it's just coincidence. As far as we know, we're not related." Kast nodded once, slowly. "Ah." "The table seems ready," Hal said, pointing in that direction. "Shall we go sit down?" "Oh, sure," Hal said, taking a sip from his second drink. "Everyone around here has heard of Borbor Crisk. Fairly small-time criminal, though, as criminals go-strictly local to the Corellian system. Of course, if you're looking for impressive intersystem criminals, we've got some of those, tOO." "We're not interested in impressiveness," Trell pointed out. "Criminal or otherwise. We've got a cargo to deliver to this Crisk character, and then we're out of here." "Yes, you mentioned that," Corran agreed, eyeing the other and trying to read him. It was hard to believe these people were really the simple errand boys they appeared, especially after the incident with the mercenaries. But if this was some kind of deeply clever plan, he was blamed if he could figure it out. At least, not from the outside. It was about time he made his pitch to get a little closer to the middle. "The thing is this," he went on, looking around the table. "Two things, actually. Number one: considering who Crisk is, your cargo is probably illegal and certainly valuable. That means that you not only have to worry about Corellian Security coming down on you, but also other criminals who might try to take it off your hands. And number two-" he hesitated, just slightly "the reason Hal and I came to CoreIlia in the first place was hoping to find jobs with Crisk's organization." "You're kidding," Riij said. "Doing what?" "Anything, really," Hal said. "Our last job went really sour, and we need to recoup our losses." "That's why we were following you, see," Corran said, trying for the proper balance of assertiveness and embar rassment. "I overheard Trell talking about Crisk, and thought-well-" "We thought maybe we could go with you when you went back to see him tonight," Hal took the plunge. Trell and Maranne exchanged glances. "Well-" "We don't actually know we're seeing him tonight," Riij pointed out. "That other booth owner may not know anything more about Crisk than Sajsh did." "That's a good point," Trell agreed, throwing an odd look at Kast. "This could be nothing but a blind alley." "Well, in that case, you'll need help finding him," Hal said with a wonderfully genuine-sounding eagerness. "Corran and I are locals-we have all sorts of contacts around the area. We can help you find him." "One of you can go," Kast said. Corran looked at the bounty hunter, blinking in mild surprise. It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd sat down at the table. "Ah-good," he said. "Just one of us?" "Just him," Kast said, nodding toward Hal. "Trell and the Tunroth will go with him. I'll be behind as rearguard." "What about Riij and me?" Maranne asked. "You two and Corran will go back to the ship," Kast told her. "You'll transfer the cargo onto the ship's land-speeder so it'll be ready for delivery." Trell and Maranne eyed each other again, and Corran could see neither was particularly happy with the arrangement. It was equally clear, though, that neither was all that eager to argue the point with the bounty hunter. "All right," Trell said with a grimace. "Fine. What happens if no one at that other booth knows where Crisk is either? " "That won't be a problem," Kast said. "Trust me." "Interesting person, Jodo Kast," Hal commented as the three of them headed back toward Sajsh's booth. "Have you worked with him long?" "This is the first time," Trell told him, looking around uneasily. There were far fewer shoppers at this hour than there had been earlier, and despite his innate dislike of crowds he found himself feeling unpleasantly exposed right now. "Actually, we're not working with him so much as we are working for him. Pairor, can you see where he's gotten to?" "No, don't turn around," Hal said quickly. "We might be under observation, and we don't want to tip them off that we've got a rearguard." Trell threw him a sideways look. There was something in his voice right then that emphatically did not belong in a down-luck drifter. A tone of authority, spoken by a person who was used to having his orders obeyed... Pairor rumbled. "Trouble," he said. Trell craned his neck. He could see Sajsh's booth ahead now, closed up for the night. The booth beside it, the booth they were headed for, was also closed. "Great," he growled, stopping. "Still no one there." "No, don't stop," a soft voice came from behind him. Trell felt his heart seize up. "What?" "You heard the man," a different voice said, this one coming from behind Hal. "Keep walking." With an effort, Trell got his feet moving again. "Are you with Borbor Crisk?" There was a snort. "Hardly," the first voice said with obvious contempt. "Keep it casual, and don't try to be clever. We'd prefer to deliver you in fully working condition." Trell swallowed hard. "Where are we going?" "For now, behind Sajsh's booth," the other said. "After that.. . you'll see." "I'm sure," Trell murmured, heart pounding in his ears. Still, there was one thing the kidnappers didn't know. Jodo Kast, one of the finest bounty hunters in the galaxy, was somewhere behind them. Any minute now he would jump out from wherever he was hiding, blasters blazing with micron accuracy, and flip the tables com pletely on them. Any minute now, and they'd hear the roar of blasters. Any minute now . .. He was still waiting for that minute as the kidnappers herded the three of them aboard a speeder truck, sealed the doors, and drove off into the gathering dusk. Part Two by Michael A. Stackpole Corran Horn's feeling that something was wrong got a big boost from his first glimpse of the Hopskip. The freighter looked as if someone had taken a stock Corel-lian Yr-1300, split the disk along a line running from bow to stern, flopped one half on top of the other, then patched it together with whatever scrap metal was conveniently at hand. Corran had seen uglier ships, but none that were supposed to be operational. He waited for Riij to close the gateway to the hangar bay before he made a comment. "I guess smuggling doesn't pay what it once used to?" Maranne's hard eyes flashed angrily. "We're traders, not smugglers." Corran raised his hands. "Call it what you want. With Imp rules and regs out there, what starts as a trading trip could end up as a smuggling run." Surprise played through Maranne's dark blue eyes, then she turned away and scratched at the back of her neck. "I'll get the landspeeder." Her surprise at his comment made her statement come a bit too fast, and Corran thought perhaps he caught a hint of fear in her words. Definitely more here than meets the eye. The second he saw the ship, Corran abandoned any suspicion that these people were hard-edged smugglers coming to deliver supplies to Borbor Crisk. The things Crisk needed to wage his little war with Zekka Thyne and Black Sun for supremacy in the Corellian underworld weren't the sorts of things that would be entrusted to the crew of the Hopskip. Actually, for Crisk to depose Thyne would require a Star Destroyer, which this ship isn't, and a legion of stormtroopers, which isn't hidden here. Corran saw Maranne disappear through a hatch in the freighter, so he turned his attention to Riij. "Shipping with her can't be too rough. She's pretty easy on the eyes. Known her long?" The slender man shook his head, then ran a hand across his short, spiky white hair. "Just along for the ride. If I do some work, I get some pay by the time we reach our destination." Riij smiled carefully. "You been working with your partner long?" "Off and on." Corran shrugged. Riij's quick questioning of Corran about his background played to most people's tendency to want to talk about themselves, It's a technique you learn to exploit when fishing for information from suspects. Either Riij has had training, is very private, or both. "Known him for a long time, but started running together recently. Bonded through bad times, you know? Like you and the Tunroth." "You recognize him as a Tunroth?" "Hal and me, we might be locals, but that doesn't mean we've not been around." Corran took a step back as Maranne lowered the rear loading ramp on the Hop-skip. "He got a life debt toward you or something?" "Life debt is a Wookiee thing." Riij frowned, then started up the ramp to the freighter's hold. "Rathe and I are just traveling on the same ship. No connection beyond that." "Got it." Corran kept an easy smile on his face while cataloguing the information Riij had just supplied him. Corran knew life debts were a matter of Wookiee honor, but he only knew of them because of the Imperial warrants and advisories about Han Solo and the Wookiee working with him. Most folks don't know Wookiees exist or, at best, know Imps use them for slave labor. Folks who know more about Wookiees are usually Rebel sympathizers. He followed Riij up the ramp and started looking around for clues to what the Hopskip's crew was doing in Coronet City. As a member of the Corellian Security Force, Corran had access to most information about the Rebellion and its connections to CoreIlia. At least I have it when that worthless Imp Intelligence liaison officer isn't around. While it was true that two of the Alliance's heroes were from CoreIlia, the Emperor's tightening of his grip on CoreIlia and the placement of forces on the world had kept the Rebel presence down. Corran knew there were Rebel cells in residence, and he'd gladly have run any of them in, but he didn't see them being so bold or so desperate as to try to hook up with Crisk. Corran slid past the battered nose of the old land-speeder-like the ship, it looked as if it had been cobbled together from parts. It only had two seats, like a fancy speeder, but had a flat bed grafted on to the back. Except where dents let silvery metal show through, an even, dirt-brown coat of primer covered the vehicle. Not fast, not strong, but beats hauling this stuff on my back. The bank of boxes that Maranne and Riij were freeing from cargo-net tie- downs immediately attracted his attention. They were uniform in size and non-descript, but that struck Corran as odd. All of them had exteriors formed out of green duraplast that was a couple shades darker than his eyes, yet none of the rectangular boxes bore the streaking and scarring common on duraplast boxes. None had holographic tags, scuff marks or other signs of use, yet all had been bound with duraplast cables and fixed with a holographic seal. As he lifted the first one from the top of the pile he felt nothing shift inside the boxes, nor was there a need for him to locate the box's balance point. He shook his head. "Where did you guys get sleight boxes?" Maranne and Riij both stopped as Corran set his box down on the landspeeder's bed. The woman frowned. "What's a sleight box?" "If you don't know what a sleight box is, maybe you aren't smugglers." Corran tapped a finger on the top of his box. "It looks ordinary, but it has a low-power repul-sorlift coil matrix and power-supply built into the casing. It neutralizes the weight of whatever is inside. These boxes could be full of thermal detonators or air, and we'd never know. Smugglers developed them to trick customs officials, but most customs- droids know what to scan for now." Maranne set her box down next to his. "Interesting story. Seems you've done more smuggling than we have." "Maybe, or maybe I just know more about smuggling than you do." Corran gave her a sly smile. "For example, I know no one smuggles a cargo that's made up of unknown items. What's in these things?" The woman shook her head, her dark blond queue lashing her from shoulder to shoulder. "Don't know. Don't want to know." "I find that hard to believe." Corran frowned at her. "I don't know what kind of game you're running here, but these sleight boxes won't fool CorSec's droids. If this is stuff being hauled for the Rebels, they'll find it and you'll be in serious trouble." Riij slid his box onto the flat bed. "If we were Rebels and we knew what was in these boxes and it was meant for the Rebels, we'd be a lot more worried about the Empire than we would their puppets here on CoreIlia." "You think CorSec's people are Imperial puppets?" Corran flicked that suggestion away with a wave of his hand. "CorSec's concerned with the integrity of the Corellian system, nothing more. If they tolerate Rebels here, the Imperial presence increases. Who wants that?" Riij's brown eyes flashed dangerously. "What you're telling me is that CorSec's people are willing to repress the enemies of a vicious regime so they don't get Vader's boot across their own necks. If I was a Rebel, I'd find it very difficult to tell the difference between CorSec agents and the Imps." Corran forced himself to go over and pick up another box so he wouldn't immediately snap back at Riij. The smuggler's arguments had been heard often- and loudly-on CoreIlia. Corran, whose father and grandfather had both preceded him into CorSec, had long believed that CorSec could do the most good by keeping the Imps out of its solar system security problems. If CoreIlia could take care of itself and set itself up as a neutral party in this civil war, the citizens of CoreIlia would benefit. While that position made perfect sense, and was defensible, it was also a position made at the top of a very slick slope. CorSec's directors had already forced the local divisions to accept Imperial Intelligence Liaison officers to monitor and coordinate operations with Imperial Garrisons. Kirtan Loor, the liaison officer his division had been saddled with, had proved thoroughly arrogant and barely functional. He and Corran did not get along at all. Corran hefted another box. "I think, from CorSec's view, they have a hard time telling the Rebels apart from' honest criminals like me. I don't, but that's because I've got the right perspective. The Rebs aren't honest criminals at all." Maranne smiled. "'Honest' criminals?" "Yeah, honest. I know that what I'm doing violates the law, but I do it because that's what I do. I take the risks, I make some money, or I get sent to Kessel. It's all very straightforward." Corran placed his box on top of the first one he'd set down. "The Rebels, they do everything I would do, but they say they are entitled to do it because the law is wrong and the Empire is wrong. They're really just making excuses for their actions so they can feel they're noble when they're really no better than I am." "What an interesting perspective." Corran spun at the sound of the faintly echoed voice. Jodo Kast stood in the cargo hatchway, blocking most of the view of the docking bay. Corran ducked and dodged his head to try and see past the bounty hunter, but with no success. "Where's Hal?" "I would expect, right now, he is very nearly at Zekka Thyne's fortress." "What!" Riij's shout of surprise filled the cargo hold. "You were there to protect them. What happened?" Kast stepped into the cargo hold, then leaned rather casually against the bay's internal bulkhead. "Thyne's people were waiting for Trell and the other two. There were seven of them-including the Brommstaad Mercenaries. I waited until they'd headed off east, then I returned here." Corran slammed a fist down on top of a sleight box. "East is where Thyne has his little palace." Kast nodded. "Hence my assumption about their destination." "And you did nothing to stop them?" Corran jabbed a finger in Kast's direction. "You're some hot bounty hunter in this Mandalorian armor who can shoot the blaster from a man's hand while sitting down, and you didn't stop them?" "There were seven of them and only one of me. I al ready did the math for you on that match-up-I might have gotten them, but they would have killed your people." Riij shook his head. "Rathe could have taken his share of them." Maranne nodded. "Trell would have been good for at least one." "And Hal could have popped a couple..." "A couple wouldn't have done it." "... Or more, if he'd been given a chance." Corran looked from Riij and Maranne to the bounty hunter. "Are all three of you so naive you don't know what's going to happen to our people? Thyne's going to ask them about their connection to Crisk and, if they know as little as you do, he's going to have to work real hard to get answers he trusts. I'm not too wild about him going at Hal like that." Kast shrugged his shoulders. "You can always find yourself another partner." "If you think I'm going to abandon Hal, I'm going to have to shuck you out of that armor and beat some sense into you." Kast's head came up as he moved away from the wall, silently emphasizing just how much bigger than Corran he truly was. "Hardly the reaction I'd expect from two criminal associates. Out of proportion, really. You're acting as if there is a closer bond between you." Corran gave Kast as cold a glare as he could. He did resemble his father a bit, around the eyes and through the face, but otherwise he was a compromise between his mother and father. She'd been tiny and had the bluest eyes Corran could ever remember having seen. His green eyes were a midpoint between her eyes and his father's hazel eyes, as his brown hair was a match between her blond and his father's once black hair. Even his height formed a bridge between that of his mother and father. "It wouldn't matter if Hal was my clone-he's my partner, which means I'm responsible for him." Corran jabbed a thumb back against his breastbone. "I actually understand what that sort of responsibility means, Kast, and what it means is that I'm not going to leave Hal to Thyne's untender mercies." Kast folded his arms across his armored chest. "You'd dare take on a Black Sun crime lord?" Maranne paled. "Thyne is Black Sun?" "Claw-picked by Prince Xizor, if the rumors are true." Corran leaned on one of the green boxes. "He's crazy, cruel and wholly nasty, but he does operate with a profit motive in mind. This cargo may have been for Crisk, but we could offer it to Thyne and ransom our people." "I don't think so." Kast produced a datacard from a pouch on his belt and flipped it over to Maranne. "That card has the location and time for a new meeting with Crisk. Deliver the cargo there, then come back here and prepare to take off." Maranne caught the card. "We're not going anywhere if Haber isn't here." "I know." Kast gave her a quick nod. "It's my intention to head out to Thyne's fortress and secure the release of your friends." Corran barked out a sharp laugh. "You balk at taking on seven guttersharks, but you'll free our friends from Thyne's fortress all by yourself?. Better check that math, Kast." "The odds are substantial, but I anticipate success." "Yeah, well, this is Corellia! and Corellians have no use for odds. I think I'd trust in your success if I was along to enhance it." "I work alone." "Ha!" Corran jerked his head toward Riij and Maranne. "You work with them, you can work with me." Corran shook his fists out. "Save us both some trouble and just say yes now." Kast hesitated and silence stole over the cargo bay. The mercenary studied Corran and even though he could not see Kast's eyes, he could feel the man's hard stare raking him up and down. Corran forced himself to look at the helmet's black slit, inviting a challenge and ready to react to Kast's next move. The bounty hunter's arms slowly unfolded. "I will go find us a landspeeder." "Good." Corran realized, as he replied, that he'd been holding his breath. Hal's going to go crazy when he hears what I did. Facing down a bounty hunter like Kast. It had to be done, but it could have been done better. I'd never run away from a fight with a guy like that, but there's no virtue in picking one, either. Darkness swallowed Kast's form, then Corran turned and looked at the other two. "You're in way over your heads, aren't you?" Riij shrugged. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I don't like Rathe being captured by a Black Sun crime lord." "Well, Borbor Crisk isn't much better. We're caught in the arena between two Cyborrean battledogs. Neither of these guys plays well with others, as you've seen." Maranne brandished the datacard. "What are we going to do? We're supposed to meet with Crisk and give him this stuff." "The first thing we do is find out what this stuff is." Corran looked at the seals on the boxes already loaded on the landspeeder's bed. "Good, here's one that's junked. See if you can find another." Riij started looking at new boxes while Corran fished in his pocket for a small hydrospanner. "This ought to do the trick." Maranne came over and frowned. "What do you mean the box is junked?" "Not the box, the seal-tab used to bind the duraplast strips." Corran pointed to the round tab that connected the crisscrossing straps. "See how the hologram imbedded in it doesn't fully line up. Look at it from the angle here. The corona on the suns here don't match up." "I found another one," Riij announced. "Good, bring it over." Corran hooked the edge of the spanner under the lip of the seal. "When they don't set up right you can pop them apart with a little shove and a twist." He lifted up, then twisted his wrist. The seal popped apart, freeing the strips that secured the box. "Get both parts and we can reseal this thing once we've peeked at what's inside." Maranne bent to recover both halves of the seal while' Corran attacked the other one. It came apart easily, then he reversed the spanner and used a flat-bladed attachment to pry the box's lid up. "By the Emperor's black heart! " Even before the lid came up fully Corran caught the sharp sour scent of spice. The box held seven single-kilogram bricks that had been wrapped up in heavy cello-plast. They'd been dipped in a waxy coating to seal them, but the job had been done hastily. One of the packets had split open and spilled a low-grade spice compound inside the box. "What is that?" Corran looked at Maranne. "You're joking, right?" "Like I said, I'm a trader, not a smuggler." "This is spice. It's a really lousy grade of glitterstim-the real stuff is crystalline, long fine fibers, not a powder like this. Dose up with this and you get really happy, at least really happy until you need more and the craving flows through your veins like plasma. Not a pretty thing." Riij curled a lip distastefully. "You know from experience?" "Just hearsay, and watching a guy try to sell a lung to get more glit." "Sell a lung?" Maranne shivered. Corran shrugged. "Wasn't his. Belonged to some passerby. Like I said, not good stuff." Riij pried the lid off the second sleight box. "Sith-spawn!" He reached a hand in and withdrew a crystal spike the thickness of his thumb and a good hand-span in length. Purple filled the stone's core, running from light at either end to dark in the middle. As Riij held the stone up the light it trapped filled it with orange, yellow and red lightning bolts. All three of them fell silent in response to the brilliant display. corran stared at the stone, then shook his head. "Is that a Durindfire gem?" "I think so." Riij's voice-box bounced up and down as he swallowed hard. "My father bought a ring with a Durindfire for my mother on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Wasn't until the thirtieth that he had the debt paid off, and that was just a little stone." "Not too many of those stones make it off Tatooine, and very seldom unworked like that finger there." Maranne took it from Riij and weighed it in her hands. "This would be enough to buy us a new ship." Riij turned. "Let's find out what else is in these other boxes." "No, stop." corran held his hands up. "We don't have time enough to check them out. Put the stone back, we'll reseal these two boxes and set them in the landspeeder's front seat." Maranne reluctantly returned the stone to its box. "What do you have in mind?" "Look, we're going to need some insurance here if we're going to get off Corellia in one piece. We can reseal these boxes and no one will ever know they've been tampered with. You'll take those two boxes to Crisk and let him know you have, what, 108 more for him. He won't make a move against you until he has them." Riij frowned. "He can come here and take them from US." "Yeah, but they won't be here. We load the rest onto the speeder and take them to a storage facility." Corran frowned as if thinking hard about something. "Okay, I have it. There's a Dewback Storage Warehouse on the main road back into the center of Coronet City. You can rent a storage shed there and dump the other boxes. You go to your meeting and let Crisk know you'll give him the location of the other boxes when you're certain your friends are safe. Kast and I will go off to see Thyne and if we're not back in due time, you use Crisk to try to effect a rescue." Maranne slowly shook her head. "I don't like the sound of this." "Look, we've got a veritable fortune in those boxes. If Crisk doesn't want to help you, set up a meeting with Thyne and ransom us." "How do we get in touch with Thyne?" Corran smiled. "You did that back at your first stop on Treasure Ship Row, remember?" "Right." "Okay, let's get loading." Corran resealcd the first box and then the second. "I know you don't like the way this is going, Maranne, but you're the one who said she's a trader. If things go badly, you're going to have to trade for our freedom and, speaking for myself, I hope you strike a super bargain in the process." Colonel Maximillian Veers glanced down at the chair offered to him, but refrained from sitting. "Thank you for your kindness, Agent Loor, but I do not anticipate being here very long. You have looked at the message I had sent over to you." The long, slender man sat forward in his chair, a motion that nearly tossed him sprawling up over the top of his desk. Loor caught himself with his hands, then brushed the lank of dark hair that had fallen over his face back into place. Veers felt certain the man wore his hair the way he did to accentuate his resemblance to the late Grand Moff Tarkin. I served under Tarkin. Anyone who would think this Loor is at all similar to Tarkin should realize the similarity goes no deeper than the skin. "Something wrong with the springs on your chair, Agent Loor?" The liaison officer snarled. "I have saboteurs who de light in finding ways to annoy me, and adjusting the chair is their latest form of expression." He reached over and hit a button on his desktop datapad. "And yes, Colonel Veers, I studied the message you sent over, as requested. I can't comment on its accuracy beyond saying it is true that Zekka Thyne maintains a little fortress east of Coronet City." "I already know that, Loor." Loor's head came up. "You do? I wasn't aware that Thyne's headquarters would have been something you studied, Colonel Veers. I was unaware the Imperial Armed Forces had been given cause to consider Black Sun facilities potential targets." Veers' nostrils flared. The only thing he hated more than having to deal with arrogant intelligence agents was turning a blind eye to the activities of the Black Sun. He assumed the Emperor's tolerance for the criminal cartel was based on reason, but Veers thought that tolerance was truly a detriment to the Empire. Allowing any outlaws undermined the rule of authority. If people could see Black Sun as somehow more malevolent than the Rebellion, then they could justify joining the Rebellion all that more easily. "It is incumbent upon me, Agent Loor, to view any stronghold that is filled with armed individuals as a potential target. In this case I am told that Thyne is meeting with elements of the Rebel underground." "Yes, but I am uncomfortable with your source. Who is it?" "You saw the verification code. It is valid." Veers frowned heavily. "There is no reason to distrust the information. It is accurate and I plan to act on it." "So you mean you don't know who your source is?" "I don't need to know." With a superior smile slithering over his face, Loor eased himself back in his chair. Veers hoped it would overbalance and spill him to the floor. "If you believe in this intelligence source, why come to me?" Veers restrained himself from reaching out and slapping Loor. "I came to you, Agent Loor, because you are the Imperial Liaison Officer and you liaise with the Corel-lian Security Force in this administrative sector. I want to know if they have any operatives working in or around Thyne." "Are you looking to use their extraction as a pretense for your attack, or were you worried I would lodge a protest over collateral damage?" Veers narrowed his eyes. "There is no reason for good people to die." Loor shrugged lazily. "If they do die, they die heroes. If you get me Zekka Thyne, you can be a hero, too." "I believe, Agent Loor, I can find my own way to be a hero." Veers spun on his heel and stalked from the office. With Imperials like you, Loor, I often wonder why the Rebellion has not yet succeeded in overthrowing the Empire. If things are left in the hands of people like you, can the Empire possibly survive?" Corran took one look at the SoroSuub X-34 Landspeeder Kast was piloting and sighed. "Buy or borrow?" The bounty hunter looked up at him from behind the wheel. "Does it matter?" "If I'm going to get arrested for traveling in a stolen landspeeder I'd kind of been hoping it would be something newer and sportier, like an XP-38." "You can always walk, Corran." "Good point." With his left hand on the windscreen, Corran hopped up and into the passenger seat. "Punch it." Kast spun the landspeeder's wheel, fed power to the repulsorlift coils and eased the throttle forward. "How did the loading go?" "Loading? It went fine." Corran shifted around in the cramped seat. "They should be ready to make their rendezvous." "Good.", Corran heard the correct emphasis and inflection given to the word, but somehow he thought Kast was being something less than genuine in his response. Corran tried to put his finger on it but couldn't, and that bothered him. In the past he'd had an almost sixth sense about hardcases like Kast, but he didn't seem to be able to read the armored mercenary. The fact that my father has been captured by a man who will fillet him is destroying my concentration. Kast piloted the landspeeder in toward the center of town. The bright lights and raucous sounds of Coronet City and Treasure Ship Row all started to press in on Corran. As a member of CorSec he saw Dirtdock-CorSec slang for Treasure Ship Row- as a dangerous place. While the fringes might not be that bad-and plenty of respectful folks dabbled in minor transgressions at some of the flashier places-there were locations there where even Darth Vader would fear to tread. Most of those establishments were controlled by Black Sun. Corran's grandfather had lamented the changes in the criminal class since the rise of the Empire. Rostek Horn had been in CorSec back in the days of Moff Fliry Vorru, back when flouting the law had been an art. In those days, Corran had been told, criminals only made war on criminals. The abduction of Hal and Trell never would have been tolerated back then- civilians would have to get involved with criminal activities a lot more deeply before they were considered fair game. Then Prince Xizor and his Black Sun organization had come to the fore. Xizor had betrayed Vorru to the Emperor, in one step eliminating Vorru and gaining favor with the Emperor. Xizor had used CoreIlia as training ground for some of his lieutenants. The most recent and most brutal of them was Zekka Thyne. Corran glanced out of the landspeeder as the Dewback storage facility flashed past. As he turned to look back in the direction they were traveling, he caught Kast watching him. "Something the matter?" "You seemed to find something interesting out there." "Yeah, I did." Think, Corran, think of something good. "It was the street art on the walls." "Art? You think the defacement of buildings is art?" Corran shrugged. "It's not the work of Venthan Chassu but it beats peeling Star Destroyer-white for holding my interest." Kast studied Corran for a second or two. "How does someone like you know the work of Venthan Chassu?" "I could lie to you and tell you that my mother used to take me to museums, but you'd see through that." Corran forced himself to stare straight forward as he abandoned the truth and started fashioning a lie from a wild tale a thief he'd once collared had started spinning for him. "I knew a guy who said he had a client who would buy anything in the fine arts from CoreIlia. He said he'd already lifted and sold a handful of paintings, some sculpture and a couple of holographic dioramas. The client seemed impressed, but wanted more. He was spending credits like they were made of free-floating hydrogen atoms, so this guy said he wanted to plan a heist to hit the Coronet City Museum of Fine Art. He wanted me in on the crew, so I cased the place." Kast nodded slowly. "Who was the clienO" "Don't know. My man talked to a broker, then he got tractored by CorSec and caught a shuttle to Akrit'tar. He died there." "So what did you think of Chassu's work?" Corran frowned. Why would a bounty hunter care about art and care what I thought about art? "It was interesting. The Selonian nude studies were what I liked the best-but not because they were nudes. Selonians have fur, so can they ever really be nude? And if it were nude Selonians I wanted," Corran held his hands up above the wind-screen, "I could find plenty of them here in Treasure Ship Row." "Why did you like them?" "Chassu caught the two essential elements of Seloni-ans: their sensual, sinewy forms and, because their faces were always obscured, their desire for privacy." Corran shrugged. "Some of his other work was fine." "What did you think of Palpatine Triumphant?" "The throne being built of bones gave me nightmares." Corran shivered, knowing the nightmares had not come from the skulls and shattered bones, but the homicidally gleeful expression of joy on the Emperor's face. "As a final masterpiece it does the job, but I would have liked to see him return to Selonian studies." "His loss was a pity." Kast's helmet turned toward him. "There would appear to be more to you than meets the-" "Oh?" "Indeed. The last time Chassu's Selonian nudes were on display at the Fine Arts museum was ten years ago." Corran covered his surprise with a smile. "Not exactly. New Year's Day, two years ago, they were displayed for a private reception for Museum patrons. Four hours, ten thousand credits per person." Corran tapped Kast on the shoulder of his armor. "You would have loved it, but you'd have had to get a new paint job on the armor first." "And you were there." "I was." So was Hal. My mother had volunteered with the museum for so long that when it came to hiring additional security for the reception, the administration brought us on board. "I'll let you know when they throw another of those get-togethers, if you want." "Please. I'll have to see if I can obtain an invitation to it." Corran laughed. "If you can do that, perhaps you can get us an invitation to visit Zekka Thyne. How are you planning to get us in there?" Kast's voice echoed from within his helmet. "I thought I would appeal to Thyne's sense of justice." "You'd have an easier time finding the Katana fleet." Corran shook his head. "Zekka Thyne is a human-alien mongrel with big blue blots all over his pink-white flesh. His eyes are blood red except for black diamond pupils that are outlined in gold. He's got sharp ears, sharper teeth and the sharpest sense of retribution you've ever run into this side of a Wookiee bearing a grudge. I heard he shot a spice courier because the courier told Thyne she'd borrowed credits from a payoff, but had already repaid the momentary loan, with interest.". "What would Thyne have done had the woman not told him?" "Killed her more slowly. He's a real artist with a vibroblade." Corran frowned heavily. "What Patches lacks in brains he makes up for in feral viciousness. What would you charge to kill him?" Kast's head came up just a centimeter or two. "Are you asking me to murder him?" Corran hesitated for a second. "No, I guess I'm not. I was just wondering. I thought maybe if I did it I could consider the amount you'd get paid as some sort of charitable deduction on my taxes. If I paid any, that is. " "I would not be averse to seeing Thyne eliminated, but that is outside the purview of my immediate task." Kast looked over at him. "I believe, however, I can get us in to see him. I think the diplomatic approach would be best." "I agree. I prefer diplomacy." Corran tapped the blaster holstered beneath his left armpit. "I'm also ready in case we have to be undiplomatic." "which means?" "which means I go low, you go high.". Kast nodded solemnly. "That shall be our backup plan, then." The bounty hunter piloted the landspeeder with ease through the darkened hills outside Coronet City. Thyne's estate had once belonged to a shipping magnate who was arrested and sent to Kessel for smuggling spice. Thyne had obtained the deed at auction, after which rumors started through the Corellian underworld suggesting Thyne had provided the evidence that got the magnate convicted. Corran always suspected that bit of subterfuge had actually been planned and executed by Prince Xizor, since Thyne had not since shown himself to be that clever. As they crested the last hill and came down into the broad valley in which the estate had been built, Corran pointed at the main building. "It doesn't look like much, but those rolling hills serve as great revetments and channel an assault force in toward areas where he has mines in place. Up in the towers he's supposed to have E-webs capable of sweeping any soldiers off the grounds. Thyne is even supposed to have a bolthole ready to let him get safely away if trouble starts, which isn't likely. Double-thick walls, double-paned transparisteel windows, complete electronic sensoring systems and forty to fifty blaster-boys make this a pretty tough nut to crack. I've heard CorSec has an open warrant to search the place, but without the Imp garrison to back them up, no one is stupid enough to try to deliver it." "You weren't joking about the sensors." Kast directed the landspeeder toward two men coming out of a side entrance, catching them in the glow of the ridelamps, then turned the speeder to the left and let it settle to the ground. "I'll go speak with them. You be ready in case things go badly." "You'll give me a sign?" Corran watched the bounty hunter unfold himself from the driver seat and mentally catalogued the weapons he could see. "Dumb question. If they fall I'll come running." He watched Kast approach the two men. The bounty hunter held his hands open and out away from his sides, but not up in any sign that could be taken as surrender. He wants them to know he doesn't intend to kill them, but that he's capable of doing just that given sufficient provocation. The trio met and Corran could hear the buzz of voices, but could make out no words. One of Thyne's men spoke into a comlink, then Kast raised his left hand and beckoned Corran forward with a casual flutter of fingers. Corran left the landspeeder and approached the three men, aping Kast's open-handed posture while doing so. One of Thyne's men came toward him, clearly intent on taking his blaster, but Corran frowned at him. What, you think I'm stupid enough to try to shoot my way in and out of here? The blaster-boy hesitated, then sunk his hands into his pockets. The other Black Sun hireling pointed at Corran. "Go ahead, take his blaster." "You think he's stupid enough to try to shoot his way in and out of here? " The first gunman shook his head. "Let's take them to the boss. We don't want to keep him waiting." "True. Follow us." Their guides conducted them to the main entrance and into a foyer that Corran thought might have once rivaled that of the Coronet City Museum of Fine Art for splendor. Rose granite and black marble had been inset into the floor in a complex and chaotic pattern. A stone staircase spiraled up to the second and third floors, and drew the eyes upward to the holographic representation of the night sky above them. Small alcoves in the walls housed statuary and huge goldenrod wall panels provided ample space for the display of a vast array of paintings and original holographic works of art. It's amazing how something that could have been so beautiful can so easily be made so... vulgar. It seemed as ifThyne's definition of art was intimately wrapped up with the concepts of nudity, excess and a color scheme that relied heavily on pinks, purples and an irritatingly vibrant shade of green. Some of the statuary-what little of it actually could have found a home in the Museum of Fine Arts-had been garishly corrected by application of this color scheme, with excess paint having spilled down the walls. The paintings showed Corran a view of models he thought more appropriate for xenobiological textbooks and the holographs seemed the visual equivalent of a high-pitched scream. "How much were you going to offer me to kill him?" Kast whispered. "Not enough." They followed their guides through the foyer and a huge set of double doors into Thyne's office. Here the clash of artworks had a new element added to it: a war between style of furnishings. Thyne's desk had been carved from deep brown vweliu tree wood and was in itself a work of art. Surrounding it were other pressed-form duraplast and fiberplast chairs and tables-the sort of things that could be left out in a glen because weather would not hurt them. A few stainless steel tables topped with transparisteel sheets completed the decor and a riot of lamps-no two matching-provided illumination for it all. Corran looked over at Hal and caught a brave nod from him despite the twin lines of blood dripping down from his nose. Haber Trell looked in worse shape, with a rapidly swelling eye and an inert vibroblade stuck into the seat of his chair between his thighs. The Tunroth's yellow flesh had greyed up a bit, and a dollop of bluish blood trickled from one nostril, but Rathe otherwise looked alert. Zekka Thyne smiled at Kast and Corran found the expression nothing short of obscene. "Ah, Jodo Kast, finally we meet. Normally I do not retain an individual I have not met, but your reputation precedes you. I decided the credits were well spent." Thyne's scarlet gaze sharpened. "Don't disappoint me." "I have no intention of doing so." With a swift, smooth motion, Kast drew a blaster in his right hand and jammed the muzzle against Corran's left temple. "Haber Trell and the Tunroth are assassins who were hired by Borbor Crisk to eliminate you. Their partners are even now arranging for Crisk to fill a couple hundred sleight boxes with the price for your head." "That's not true!" Haber Trell snarled angrily. "He's lying." Thyne silenced him with a backhanded slap. "So who are these other two?" Kast grunted what almost seemed to be a laugh. "They hired these two locals to help them get around and as camouflage. With these two in tow, who would think they are galaxy-class assassins?" Corran started to raise a hand to massage his head, but Kast kept the gun pressed hard against his skull. Corran wasn't certain which hurt more: his head or his pride at having been fooled by Kast. He played me very well, just like he played the rest of us. Better I was in my father's place because Kast never would have fooled him. Corran glanced sidelong at Kast, then nodded toward Thyne. "You know, you really can't trust the word of a bounty hunter." "True, but I am more willing to trust him than some assassin's local fetch-and-carry." Kast reached over and relieved Corran of his blaster, then lowered his own gun. "My story is fairly easy to check out. You should dispatch some of your people to the Mynock's Haven. It is the cantina where Trell's partners are meeting within the hour with Crisk to finalize the payoff details. You'll find the sleight boxes at the Dewback storage yard near the spaceport. You can send other of your people there and wait for Crisk and his men to come and fill the boxes." Corran rubbed at his temple. "You figured that out from my look at the place? You're good." "That's why people retain me." Kast looked over at Thyne. "I take it you have detention cells here?" "Wine cellar is empty. You can put them in alcoves down there." "Good. I shall do that while you prepare the ambush for Crisk." Kast motioned with his blaster for Corran to head toward the door. "Once your people report back, you'll know who you can trust." "Yes." Thyne hissed the word. "And those who are lying will pay the ultimate price for daring to deceive me." Part Three by Michael A. Stackpole Propelled by a poke in the kidneys with a blaster carbine, Corran Horn stumbled into the makeshift cell. He got control of himself fast enough to avoid bumping into his father and turned back quickly, but Jodo Kast swung the wrought-iron gate shut. That effectively sealed the two Horns in a small, dusty grotto that had once been home to a fine collection of wines from throughout the Empire. At least that's the impression I get from all the broken bottle bits on the floor. Corran skewered Kast with the nastiest stare he could muster. "This isn't over between us Kast." The bounty hunter regarded Corran placidly, but the trio of Zekka Thyne's henchmen forcing the other man and the Tunroth into a second grotto across the cellar laughed out loud. Their leader, the beefy; red-haired man who had given Corran the shove, sneered at the undercover Corellian Security Force officer. "You're strictly small time, pal. The boss isn't going to give you a crack at this guy. I'll be the one to take care of you." "Oh?" Corran gave the man a fetal grin. "I didn't realize Thyne was into doing favors for the hired help. You're welcome to try me any time." "He won't get the chance." Kast's voice came low and cold. "I've put up with your prattling and bragging and threats, Corran, and I am not of a mind to let someone else eliminate annoyances from my life." The armored mercenary pointed a finger at the redheaded man. "Touch him and I will consider it a matter of honor to turn you inside out." The redhead paled. "Yes, sir." Another of Thyne's Black Sun underlings closed the other gate and secured it. "They're in. Wanna threaten any of them, Nidder?" The redhead frowned. "Suck vacuum, Somms. You think you're so funny, you can think up jokes while you stand guard on these clowns." Somms' blond brows arrowed down toward his nose. "They're in here secure, they don't need guarding." Kast shook his head. "No, not in here, of course not, but outside the room, on the first stair landing. There you can hear commotion from in here or the main floor and be able to respond." Nidder shoved his blaster carbine into Somms' hands. "You heard him." Corran smiled. "Just what I expected, Kast. You want someone stationed between you and me." Kast grabbed the grate's iron bars and shook it once, hard. The metal rattled loudly and, startled, Corran involuntarily took a step back. Nidder, Somms and the third Black Sunner started laughing, but their mirth didn't stop corran from hearing Kast's reply to his remark. "I've no fear of you, Corran. I look forward to you getting out of here because with Thyne sending. his blaster-boys off to ambush Maranne and Riij, I'm pretty much assured that I'm all that stands between you and your freedom. You may be good-you may even be better than I give you credit for being-but I'm still better." Corran's left temple throbbed from where Kast had jammed his blaster pistol against it. "Keep thinking that, Kast, and don't be surprised when I prove you wrong." "Come see me, Corran, when your boasts are not idle." Kast turned and herded the rest of the men from the small room. An old wooden door closed behind him and clicked shut. Corran stared after him for a moment then spun on his heel and swore. "Sithspawn! That son of a rancor played me for an idiot." He looked up at his father. "I'm sorry, Dad. I really made a mess of things." The elder Horn's hazel eyes narrowed. "How do you plot our predicament being your fault?" "I should have known there was something wrong." Corran scrubbed his hands over his face. "Their ship, the Hopskip, is a piece of trash that Crisk wouldn't use to haul dead bodies, much less valuable merchandise. The others had no idea what was in their cargo hold and it turned out to be full of sleight boxes." Hal frowned. "Sleight boxes are hardly state of the art for smugglers these days. It's almost as if they wanted to be caught." "Right, exactly." Corran leaned against a fiberplast wine rack built into the grotto's wall. "Kast told Thyne the boxes are empty, but I found some with junked holo-seals and popped them. One box had spice-strictly joy-dust grade, but spice nonetheless-and the other had a fortune in uncut Durindfire gems. Even if we figure that one box of gems is it and the other 199 are spice, Crisk can use the gems to buy an army and use the spice to flood the market and kill Black Sun's profits." Hal Horn turned a wooden wine-box over and sat. "So what you're telling me is that we have non-smugglers bringing in two hundred sleight boxes and they have no idea what's in them. You find gems and spice in two and the shipment is headed for Crisk. Crisk himself can't put together that sort of shipment, so he has a backer. Who?" Corran frowned. "The gems come from Tatooine. Isn't there a Hutt out there working the spice trade?" "Jappa or Jadda or something like that, yes. He's powerful there, but expanding into CoreIlia? That's too bold a move." Hal's mouth opened, then he shook his head. He motioned his son aside and looked past Corran toward the other cell. "Haber Trell, how long have you known Jodo Kast?" The Hopskip's pilot stood and grasped the bars of his prison. "I don't know him. He's along for the ride." "Yes." Hal leaned back against the wall and laughed lightly. "That's it." Corran shook his head. "You're saying Kast is behind the shipment going to Crisk? But that makes no sense since he's told Thyne's people where to find the boxes with the spice and gems." "No, Corran, Kast isn't the mastermind, he's what's being smuggled into CoreIlia." Corran's jaw shot open. "It doesn't make any sense." "No?" Hal gave Corran an appraising glance-of the sort that in the past had warned Corran that his father thought he was being lazy in his thinking. "What do you make of Kast's last remark?" Corran thought back. "He was taunting me." "Agreed, but what did he tell us by taunting you?" The sigh came up all the way from Corran's toes. "He told us that he was all that stood between us and freedom-that Thyne's guys are all gone. He told me to come find him when we got free." Corran slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I should have seen that." "You did." "Yeah, but it took you to point it out to me." Corran shook his head and toed the neck of a broken bottle. "There are times when my brain just doesn't work." "No, Corran, your brain works fine." Hal kept his tone even, but pointed a finger at his son. "You just need to focus your thinking. You're angry because of how Kast tricked you, and I think you were a bit afraid for how I was doing." "Right on both counts." "It's understandable, son, and appreciated in the case of your concern for me, but you can't let your emotions and incidental things deflect you." "I know that, Dad. I really do." He smiled at his father. "I try to follow your example, but you're better at it than I am." "I have a few years on you, Corran." "It's more than just the years, Dad." Corran winced. "I never would have read Kast's message right the way you did." The elder Horn's eyes twinkled. "I have to admit to you, Corran, I cheated this time out." "What?" Hal pointed past him. "Up there, on the bars Kast shook, see what that little thing is, will you?" Corran turned and looked closely at the bars. Where Kast had grasped one in his right hand, Corran saw a small black cylinder about a hand-span in length and about the diameter of a blaster-bolt. He freed it from the bar with a tug, leaving an adhesive residue on the wrought-iron, and felt a small button beneath his thumb, near the cylinder's tip. "Be careful with that, Corran." The younger man nodded and hit the button. All but invisible in the half- light, a delicate monomolecular blade slid from the cylinder. "I know what it is, and I remember what happened to Lefty Dindo." Corran cut carefully down with the blade and through the lock's bolt. He retracted the stiletto's fragile blade and swung the door open. "Freeing us from this cell is a bit easier than Lefty trying to use one of these to free himself from binders." Hal Horn paused in the door cell's doorway. "You might want to cut us a couple of the bars to use as weapons. Somms might not be the brightest of Black Sunners, but I think he's going to take some convincing before he lets us out of here." "Agreed." Extending the blade again, Corran cut a pair of 50-centimeter- long bars from the bottom of the grate and handed one to his father. Hal swung the club against his left hand with a meaty thwack. "This will work. Now how do we lure Somms in?" Corran squinted at the room's closed door. "You figure Somms as someone who will raise an alarm immediately, or will wait to report success?" "After Nidder's giving him the duty? He'll act, then report." "That's my read, too. The landing was ten steps up and we're far enough away from the office that if we make some noise, no one will notice, I think." Corran smiled. "I'll do the hard work if you want to do the yelling." "Yelling works for me." Hal Horn smiled. "Be careful." "Right." Corran walked over to the wooden door and set the length of the blade to a half-centimeter shy of the door's depth, then cut very cautiously. He scored a circle in the center of it. Once he had the circle taken care of, he cut lines heading out from it as if a child drawing a sunburst. Lastly he carved little semicircles around the hinges and the lock. He closed the blade and handed it to his father in exchange for one of the clubs. "Okay, here goes nothing." "Wait!" Corran looked over at Haber Trell. "What do you want?" "Don't leave us in here. If you're busting out, we want to go, too." "I don't think so, Trell." The flesh tightened around Corran's eyes. "Even if you're twice the fighter that you are a smuggler, you'll still be in the way." Hal nodded in agreement, but tossed them the molecular stiletto anyway. "Corran's right, you won't want to come with us. We'll head out and deal with Thyne. Give us a couple of minutes, then go fast. Steal one of Thyne's airspeeders and fly. Head back to your ship and get out of the system." Trell nodded. "Thanks." Corran frowned at his father, then pointed at Trell. "And, listen, don't put that cargo back on your ship. You don't want to be shipping spice around." Trell shivered and Corran took that to be an eloquent answer to his caution. "Ready, Dad?" "All set." Corran smiled and ran backward at the door. He leaped up and hit it smack in the middle with his back. The door exploded into fragments around him, spraying large chunks of wood into the narrow corridor outside the makeshift prison. Corran crashed down amid it all, yelping involuntarily instead of letting forth with a great oof as he had planned. No jagged edges, but the debris sure is tumpy. Hal's voice flooded through the dying echoes of the door's crisp crack. "Keep that Tunroth away from me!" With his eyes nearly shut, Corran saw Somms come flying down the stairs to the landing. The man kept his back to the stone wall as he crept toward the cell, then he brandished the blaster carbine and prepared to rush into the cell. To do that he prepared to pivot on his right foot, fill the doorway, then go in. As Somms' left foot came around in the pivot move, Corran caught it in his left hand. Letting Somms' momentum pull him up into a sitting position, Corran brought his metal truncheon down on the top of the man's pelvis. Somms started to cry out, more in surprise than pain it seemed, when Hal appeared in the doorway and clipped him with a fist in the head. Somms collapsed to the floor and did not move. Corran frowned at his father. "Why cut the club if you aren't going to use it?" "Didn't need it." Hal snaked the blaster carbine from beneath Somms, flicked the selector lever over to stun, and pumped a blue bolt into him. The Black Sunher twitched once, then lay gently still. "I expect he'll still feel the blow you dealt him when he wakes up." "We can but hope." Corran rolled him over and unfastened his blaster belt. Donning it himself, Corran pulled the blaster from it and checked the power pack. He glanced up at his father. "You going to leave that set on stun? " "I haven't noticed that killshots fly any more true than stunbolts." "True, but there's just so many more forms to fill out when we bring them back alive." "Don't even joke about that, Corran." His father gave him a reproving glance that made Corran feel about as big as a hologame piece. "Set it on stun and you won't regret accidentally hitting a friend." "Yes, sir." Corran flicked the pistol's selector lever to stun and stood up. He waved his father toward the door. "Time to get Thyne. Age before beauty." "Brains before impudence." Hal tossed a quick salute to Haber Trell and Rathe. "Luck to you, but keep your heads down and get out of here fast. If Thyne doesn't react well to our refusing his hospitality, you don't want to be in the blast radius." Arl Nidder matched Jodo Kast's long-legged stride as best he could. The bounty hunter impressed him, but the armor impressed him more. Now if I had a suit of that Mandalorian armor I'd be pretty tough. I'd be able to get a lot of light-years between me and the rest of the Bromstaad boys. Maybe I hire out to do wetwork for some Moff, or maybe even Prince Xizor. His ruminations ended abruptly as they reentered Thyne's office. Nidder liked the office because it seemed like a museum to him. He'd never been in a real museum, but he knew they were places where old and valued things were collected. He took it as a mark of pride that Thyne kept him close enough to protect the crime lord's prized possessions. Surrounded by beauty though he was, Thyne did not look happy. The holoprojector plate built into his desk showed a view of Thyne's fortress and the surrounding valley in translucent green detail. Moving around the area were small orange icons that Nidder had seen in security simulations, but only when they were running worst case scenarios to scare the wits out of new recruits. Nidder's jaw dropped. "Are those really storm-troopers?" Thyne nodded, then snapped a comlink on. "All personnel report to battle stations. This is not a drill. We have hostile deployment to the north and east. Move it, I want all defenses reported as operational in thirty seconds." Nidder and Deif started toward the room's partially ajar doors, but Thyne stopped them with a snarl. "Not you two. Not that I don't trust you, Kast." Kast raised his hands. "But you don't trust me. I'll remind you of this next time we negotiate a price for my services." The long, tall bounty hunter pulled a chair around where he could watch Thyne on the right and the doors at the left, but did so in such a casual way that it took Nidder a moment or two to recognize exactly what he was doing. Kast looked directly at Nidder, then calmly crossed his right leg over his left. Nidder shifted uncomfortably and got the distinct impression that the only way he'd get a suit of that armor was to be lucky enough to be around when someone else killed Kast and peeled him out of it. Of course, the thought didn't form itself exactly that way in Nidder's brain. He just knew he didn't want that suit of armor, just one like it. His momentary feeling of inferiority vanished as he realized Kast wasn't as smart as he thought himself to be. If the mercenary had turned his chair around he still could have watched the desk and doors, but also could see the painting of frolicking nudes on the wall. As it was, Nidder could fully appreciate it-though he was at a loss to explain why the artist had included gardening implements in the painting-and smiled to let Kast know what he was missing. The hologram shifted to a schematic of the house, with the corridor outside the door rendered in yellow light that blinked on and off. Thyne hissed furiously. "Someone is in the hall. The Imps have already infiltrated the building." He pointed Nidder and Deif toward the door: Kast started speaking in a loud voice. "Of course, handling things in a diplomatic manner works best." The bounty hunter pointed toward two spots along the wall where the Bromstaad mercenaries could cover the doorway with a murderous cross fire. "Then again, there are times when one has to be undiplomatic." Nidder marveled at how Kast's voice covered the sound of his approach to the door. He stopped exactly where Kast wanted him to and drew his blaster pistol. He set it to kill and waited, but shot Kast a wink and a nod. When the nod was returned, Nidder even began to imagine that Kast might take him on as an apprentice, or even a partner. He's seen how good I am. He knows what he'll be getting when we work together. The exploding of the lower half of one door interrupted Nidder's fantasy. Through the smoke and spray of fiery debris came the smallest of the prisoners they'd left below. Coming up into a crouch from the somersault that carried him through the hole, the brown-haired man raised a blaster pistol and triggered two shots. The first blue bolt missed, but the second caught Deif in the stomach, wreathing him in azure energy. Nidder brought his pistol in line with the little man. He doesn't see me. He doesn't know I'm here. His mistake. Nidder started to tighten his finger on the trigger when he felt himself moving backward. He felt his shoulders hit the wall, then his head rebounded from it. Through the exploding stars he saw a second bolt flash out from the blaster built into the thigh of the Mandalorian armor. In the nanosecond it took for the scarlet bolt to sizzle through his chest, Nidder realized Kast had positioned him so carefully and precisely because the bounty hunter wanted to kill him. Nidder did not feel outrage at having been so easily betrayed and slaughtered, nor did he, in his dying moment, grant Kast a modicum of respect for having worked so coolly to slay him. No, for Arl Nidder, dying as he slid to the floor, there was only one final thought. Now if I had a set of that armor.... corran saw the red bolts burn by on his left and swung around in that direction as his target flopped to the ground. At the back of the room, Corran saw Thyne running for where a wall panel slid back to reveal a black recess. He started to track the fleeing crime lord, but pulled his pistol back as Kast's head and shoulders eclipsed Thyne. He's getting away. Corran glanced back at the door. "All clear." Hal stepped through, looked at Nidder's body, then at Kast. "That's another round of drinks on me by way of thanks." The bounty hunter uncrossed his legs and stood. "Pest control." Corran pointed at the dark opening in the wall. "Thyne went out through there." Hal approached it cautiously. "Looks clear." Corran appropriated the blaster carbine the man he'd shot had been carrying and set it for stun. "Let's go find him." He turned to Kast. "Come along. We could use your help. There's a bounty on Thyne. We're going to get him, but the bounty can be yours." Corran looked around the room at the garish decorations and horrific art. "It might even be sufficient to buy some real art and offset memories of this place." "You tempt me very much." Kast shrugged. "However, someone with such inferior taste in art should not be hard to catch. I would join you, but I'm a simple bounty hunter and I still have a job to do." Despite having no read on Kast, Corran knew he was lying. He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe you're a simple bounty hunter." "Nor do I believe you and your father are simple hoodlums looking for underworld employment." Kast crossed to the desk and punched a button on the holographic display unit's control panel. A view of the surrounding area came up and Corran saw small orange icons moving in swarms over the terrain. "These are Imperial storm-troopers. They're likely to make things uncomfortable if you don't get going. You don't want to be caught here." "Neither do you." "I won't be." Corran nodded. "Another time, then." "Perhaps." The finality in Kast's voice told Corran there never would be a next time, and somehow he didn't find that prospect cause for anything but relief. Corran rejoined his father just inside the entrance to Thyne's escape passage. The narrow corridor had been melted through the native stone with a gentle slope downward. Every fifteen meters or so it cut back on itself, forcing the Horns to advance carefully. The brevity of the passages meant any firefight would be at close quarters and extremely deadly. Corran clutched his blaster carbine in both hands and snuggled it against his right flank. It had been modified slightly after its arrival from the factory by the inclusion of a pinpoint glow rod attached to the left side of the barrel, and more work had been done on it to make it what was known in street parlance as a hotshot. The trigger guard had been cut away, leaving the trigger free and the weapon liable to be fired when the trigger caught on clothing or was otherwise jarred. Using a hotshot was supposed to indicate how tough a person was, but it only took one view of the results of an unsafed hotshot pistol being tucked into a waistband to convince most folks it was a foolhardy modification. Of course, no one is going to tuck a carbine into his pants. Corran smiled slightly, then nodded as his father signaled him to come forward. Remaining low, Corran came around the corner of the corridor, then dropped to the ground as a red blaster bolt sizzled through the air above him. He shot back twice, but neither blue bolt hit anything but stone. "Corridor widens out into a natural cave. We're probably at the rear of the property." "Okay, take it slow. Lose the light." Corran flicked off the pinpoint glow rod and closed his eyes. He waited for a count of ten for his eyes to get adjusted to the darkness, then opened them. Biolumines-cent lifeforms-lichen and the things that ate it-gave off a purplish glow that allowed Corran to make out shadowed shapes. Some were regular and appeared to be duraplast boxes of varying sizes, while the larger, more menacing ones were curiously hunched and gnarled stone formations. There seemed to be little physical modification of the cave; the floor remained uneven and boxes had been wedged in various places where space allowed. Corran assumed the previous owner had kept the cave in its natural state and Thyne had stored in it precious or vital cargoes that he did not trust to have any place else. Corran crept forward, remaining low. He reached the first box and in the faint glow made out the stenciled Imperial legend proclaiming it to be full of blaster carbines. He would have opened it, but the scent of spice lingered strongly enough in the immediate area that he knew what it really contained. Either Thyne is just storing spice in this, or Black Sun has some backdoor Imperial connections that are allowing them to ship this stuff in past Customs. I'll have to ask Loor about that. Corran whistled short and sharp, then heard his father close the gap between them. For an older man, and one as big as he was, Hal moved pretty quietly. I felt his presence before I picked up that slight scuff of his sole against the stone. Oh, Thyne, you don't know who you're messing with. A return whistle sent Corran forward. He moved slowly and carefully, wending his way from one dark rock to another. He did his best to avoid those that were glowing because he didn't want to silhouette himself against one. He took great care to make as little noise as possible, and smiled as he hunkered down behind a large black rock. Corran looked back toward his father and was set to whistle when he heard the scrape of metal on a rock. He glanced up and triggered one shot from the blaster carbine. The azure bolt streaked past Thyne as he leaped down from a large dolmen, then Thyne's right heel caught Corran in the shoulder and spun him to the ground. His blaster carbine bounced away, firing off two random shots. He felt Thyne's left arm tighten around his neck and then he was hauled to his feet as the alien straightened up, his body shielding Thyne from fire. The muzzle of a blaster pistol ground in under the right corner of Corran's jaw. A glow rod lit up, bathing the right side of Corran's face with light. The muscles on the arm around his neck bulged, constricting his breathing and killing any thoughts of struggling. Thyne growled loudly, sending angry echoes of his voice throughout the cavern. "Your partner is dead if you don't show yourself in five seconds." Those five seconds took an eternity to pass for Corran, and he filled it with an unending series of if-onlies. If only I had tucked the blaster pistol into my waistband when I took the carbine. If only I had the stiletto. If only I'd been more quiet in my advance.... Self-recriminations clogged his mind and fed the despair slowly creeping into his head. Then his father stood up and the glow rod on his carbine burned to life. Illuminated by its backlight, Hal Horn stood twenty meters away, the carbine held steady in his right hand. He presented Thyne with a profile-offering him a target other than Corran. The expression on his father's face bore a gravity Corran had not seen since his mother's funeral. Hal's eyes seemed purged of anger and fear, but full of intent. "It is my duty to inform you, Zekka Thyne, that I am inspector Hal Horn of the Corellian Security Force and you are under arrest. I have a valid warrant for your apprehension for violations of smuggling laws. Let your hostage go and stop making things more difficult for yourself." Thyne's chuckle came low and ringing with contempt. "No, this is the way it's going to go. You're going to remove your finger from the trigger and lower your blaster." "I can't do that." "You will do that." Thyne tightened his hold on Corran's neck. "My eyesight is good enough even in full darkness here that I can tell if your finger so much as twitches toward pulling the trigger. And my reflexes are good enough that I'll pump three shots through your partner's head before you complete that move. You may get me, but your partner will be dead. Do it, now!" Hal frowned. "Okay, don't do anything rash." "Don't, Hal! Shoot him...." Thyne jammed the gun harder into Corran's jaw. "You were stupid enough to join CorSec, let's not be stupid enough to die for it." Hal's left hand came up. "Okay, I'm doing what you said. I'm pulling my finger off the trigger." Corran tried to shake his head to tell his father not to comply with Thyne's order. He has to know that the second he disarms himself, Thyne will shoot me and then shoot him. I may already be dead, but no reason for him to die, too. Hal Horn's right index finger slowly unhooked itself from the blaster carbine's trigger. As it did so the glow rod's backlight washed all color from the digits. The finger straightened and Corran saw bones pointing at him. It's over. We'll both be skeletons left here to molder forever. Then the blue bolt shot from the carbine's muzzle. The air crackled and Corran's hair stood on end as the bolt sizzled past him and hit Thyne. The blue nimbus resulting from the shot sent a tingle through Corran's body and weakened him enough that he fell to his hands and knees. Behind him Thyne's body hit the ground with a heavy thump accompanied by the light clatter of the blaster pistol dancing off into the darkness. Hal dropped to one knee beside his son, then pumped another stun round into Thyne. "Are you okay, son?" Corran sat back on his heels. "I will be." He rubbed at the side of his neck with his right hand. "He gave me a bruise to balance the one Kast gave me. Having blaster bruises on my head and neck is an experience I could have done without." "Beats having the bolts hit home, as our friend here discovered." Corran looked at Thyne in the light from Hal's carbine. The area around Thyne's right eye had begun to swell indicating where the bolt had hit him. "How did you...?" Hal smiled. "The little gold diamond in his eye gave me a great target. I just focused on it-setting aside my concerns for you so I could-and hit him." He frowned at his father. "No, not that. You had your finger clear of the trigger and the gun fired anyway. How did you do that? The spice vapor back there give you some sort of telekinetic power or something?" "Me, move something with the power of my mind?" Hal shook his head and brandished the carbine. "This is a hotshot. At the same time I pulled my index finger off the trigger, - I was able to bring my middle finger up and stroke the trigger. Nothing special or unusual, just sneaky." Despite the smile on his father's face, and the cold logic of his answer, Corran couldn't shake the feeling that his father wasn't telling the entire truth. He probably doesn't want me to know how chancy his move was, but at least he had the guts to make it. I wouldn't have wanted to be in his boots for all the spice in the galaxy. Hal handed Corran Thyne's blaster pistol, then hauled Thyne to his feet and tossed him over his shoulder. "I can feel a breeze from ahead. We're almost clear." Corran retrieved his own blaster carbine and carried it by the pistol- grip in his left hand while using the blaster pistol in his right hand and its glow rod to light their way out. "I see something up ahead. Stars and Selonia out there." The two CorSec agents got clear of the cavern fairly easily. The mouth of it had been blocked with a lattice of iron bars with a door in it similar to those of the prison they'd escaped earlier. Corran shot the lock open then led the way out into a small grassy clearing. Hal laid Thyne out on the ground and brought his blaster carbine to hand again. "Check him for a comlink. We can call for transport to come get us." Corran knelt over the body and began to search it when a vaguely mechanical sounding voice snapped an order at him. "Drop the weapons, hands in the air." The first of eight stormtroopers emerged like ghosts from the trees surrounding the clearing. Their armor bone- white in the reflected moonlight, they made themselves very easy targets. The fact that each of them brandished a blaster carbine prompted Corran to raise his hands. I can't imagine any of them has a weapon set on stun. Hal lowered his carbine to the ground carefully. "I'm Inspector Hal Horn and this is my partner, Corran Horn. We're with CorSec. We've just apprehended Zekka Thyne." The leader of the stormtroopers approached Hal. "Looks as if you are trying to help Thyne escape and are lying to me." Corran frowned. "What a stupid conclusion to draw. I don't know why you've got that big helmet to protect your head because there clearly isn't anything you're putting to good use under it." The stormtrooper swung his gun to cover Corran. "On your feet, Black Scummer." Corran glanced at his father as he stood. "I guess we're their prisoners. " The stormtrooper shook his head. "Who said anything about taking prisoners?" Hal's voice came low and calm, but full of intensity and power. "I think I would want a specific order from a superior about shooting us. I think to operate otherwise would seriously jeopardize our career, and possibly your life." The stormtrooper reoriented himself toward Hal and Corran thought for a moment he'd have to jump the man to prevent him from shooting Hal. Corran would have gone for him, too, because he'd seen countless bodies that had ended up dead for making remarks that were no where near as confrontational. What held him back was the way the man's movements slowed as he watched Hal. The stormtrooper wasn't reacting to the tone or challenge in the words, he was clearly considering their full import. Will wonders never cease? A comlink clicked inside the man's helmet and the murmurs of conversation hummed into the night. Corran smiled and shrugged at his father. Hal winked back and allowed himself the start of a grin. The stormtrooper's head came up. "It'll be a minute or two wait." Hal nodded, then jerked a thumb back toward the cave mouth. "You'll want to have your squad secure that cav ern. It leads back into Thyne's office. Your people can get inside and hit the towers from below because if shooting starts, your people are going to die taking that place." The stormtrooper thought for a moment, then sent half his squad forward. The remaining trio set themselves up to watch the clearing perimeter while the leader kept his blaster on Corran and his father. The night air had become a bit chilled and the fact that he'd been sweating earlier became readily apparent to Corran. "Mind if I lower my arms? I'm getting cold." The stormtrooper shook his head. "You can get colder." "Nice night, isn't it?" Corran gave the man a toothy grin and hiked his arms up higher. A soldier in the olive drab uniform of the Imperial Army broke through the brush, flanked by two more stormtroopers. The eight bar box with rank cylinders on each side worn (in his chest proclaimed him to be a Colonel. His dark-eyed gaze flicked between father and son, then lingered on Thyne's body. "Zekka Thyne. You may put your hands down. I take it you must be the CorSec agents." Hal nodded. "Hal Horn. This is my son, Corran. I have a disc that identifies me in my shoe. It also contains the open warrant CorSec has for searching this place and arresting Thyne. I can dig it out for you, if you wish, to prove who we are." "I'm Colonel Veers and I believe you are who you say you are. My source indicated you would be coming out somewhere in this vicinity and even suggested we might want to backtrack you." He glanced at the stormtrooper who had threatened to kill them. "Apparently my reasons for dispatching this squad around here were not fully understood." Hal shrugged. "No one got lit up, so no problem." Corran pointed to Thyne. "We've gotten the nastiest of them out of there. There aren't many people left in there and, by now, they should all be Thyne's people." Hal nodded. "You can safely consider it a free-fire zone." "I'll remember that if they give us a reason to go in." Veers smiled. "You didn't happen to notice any signs of Rebel agents or Rebellion supplies in there by any chance?" "No, but as a CorSec Inspector, I do believe it is within my discretion to ask for assistance in serving a warrant and apprehending suspects." Hal looked at the hillsides on either side of the valley. "I should check with my liaison officer, but calling back to Crescent City from here would be impossible, so I guess I'm on my own." Veers shook his head. "Pity." "Indeed." Hal waved a hand toward the cavern. "Colonel, if you and your squad would care to assist me, I would be most appreciative." "We always like working closely with local officials." Veers gave Hal a nod and pointed his stormtroopers at the black hole. "You heard him. No waiting for them to shoot first, we're clear to go." The stormtroopers jogged forward in a clatter of armor. Veers handed Hal a comlink. "Your transit code word is 'masterpiece." At our perimeter just commandeer one of our landspeeders to get your prisoner out of here." "Thanks." Hal, looking back toward the cave, pointed at a stream of green laser bolts coming from one of the mansion's towers toward the ground. "Looks like your war has started." "Then we'll get in quickly and end it." Veers gave them a brief salute and ran off with his men. Corran looked after the Imperial officer. "I thought Imps believed in leading from the rear." "Not all of them, it seems." Hal grabbed Thyne's hands and hauled the man up onto his back. "Get the ankles there, will you?" "Sure." Corran grabbed Thyne's ankles and trailed be hind his father. "So, is this the end of Black Sun on CoreI-lia?" "I doubt it. Two CorSec agents, a handful of smugglers and a bounty hunter who isn't a bounty hunter aren't going to be enough to bring Black Sun down. Even if the Colonel and his people level that place, Prince Xizor still has enough power and the resources to restore it to what it was before, and you have to know there are countless individuals willing to take Thyne's place." Corran shivered. "Yeah, I'm afraid you're right. How depressing." "Depressing?" Hal turned and looked back at his son. "It's not depressing. As long as there are Horns to catch criminals, Prince Xizor is welcome to send all he cares to in our direction." "And you don't find that prospect depressing?" Corran frowned at him. "If it isn't depressing, what is it?" "I think it's obvious, son." Hal's hearty laugh blotted out the whines of blasters being fired back and forth. "It's job security. It may not be easy work, and it's dangerous quite a bit of the time, but it's work that holds evil at bay and there's nothing better you can devote your life to doing." Corran nodded and recalled a bit of conversation he'd had with Riij Winward. "And what will we do when the only evil left in the galaxy is the Empire?" "That's a good question, Corran, a very good question." Weariness seemed to creep into his father's voice. "It's one that each person must answer for himself. I just hope, when the time comes for me to answer it, I'll have the wisdom to choose the right answer and the strength to act upon it." "Me, too." "You will, Corran, no doubt about that." Hal gave him a wink and a nod. "When the time comes, you'll see the light and those wallowing in darkness who move to oppose you will regret that decision throughout what little remains of their lives." Part Four by Timothy Zahn Zekka Thyne's airspeeders were stored on the low end of a split-level section of the fortress roof, inside a bunker-like structure with a single entrance from the stronghold proper and a single hangar bay-style exit. Two guards were on duty, but their attention was turned outward, toward the distant blaster fire coming from the woods around the fortress, and neither noticed the shadowy bulk of Rathe Pairor moving quietly up behind them. A pair of deceptively gentle-looking hand movements from the Tunroth, and both guards temporarily lost the ability to notice anything. "I'll have to get you to teach me that trick," Trell commented, ducking down to peer through the window of a likely looking airspeeder. The vehicle looked ordinary enough, but in the dim light he could see the add-on weapons control board tucked coyly away under the main panel on the passenger side. Perfect. "We'll take this one. You still have that molecular stiletto?" "Here," the Tunroth rumbled, pausing in his task of stripping the guards' weapons to dig the slender cylinder from his belt. "Should we not take one of the armored vehicles instead?" he added, pointing his chin horns toward one of the three KAAC Freerunners parked near the wide exit opening as he lobbed the weapon in Trell's direction. "They're a little obvious for in-town driving," Trell told him as he caught the stiletto. Extending the almost invisible blade, he began carefully cutting around the air-speeder's lock mechanism. "This one's got some hidden firepower-means it's probably got some hidden armor, too." By the time pairor joined him, he had the door open and was sitting in the driver's seat. "Yeah, this'll do just fine," he said, pulling the weapons board out for a closer look. "Are you hunters any good with non-traditional stuff like light laser cannon and concussion grenade launchers?" "A shturlan can work with all weapons," Pairor said, dropping his appropriated blaster rifles onto the rear seat and peering in over Trell's shoulder. "Good-you're hired," Trell said, starting to strap himself in. "I'll drive." Trell wasn't sure what exactly was happening out in the woods surrounding Thyne's fortress. But whatever it was, it definitely seemed to be getting worse. The forest was alive with the muted flickers of multiple blaster fire, the light peeking coyly out through gaps in the leaf canopy on at least two sides of the stronghold. "I sure hope they're too busy out there to bother with us," he muttered as he eased the airspeeder through the opening and onto the landing pad just outside the bunker. "Corran and Hal are going to have their hands full getting through all that." "But less trouble than it could be," Pairor said. "Do you not remember? Thyne has dispersed many of his people on errands." Trell grimaced. "Yeah, I remember. One group to go grab our cargo, the other to snatch Maranne and Riij." "But at Jodo Kast's recommendation," Pairor reminded him. "If Kast is truly here to oppose Thyne, then he will not allow harm to come to our companions." "I don't buy that," Trell growled. "Even if Corran and Hal were right about that, it doesn't mean he cares slork droppings about the rest of us. And that assumes they were right, which we don't have any proof of. Personally, I'd say there's an even chance that Thyne and Kast cooked up the whole thing together to expose a couple of undercover CorSec agents and lure 'em into a trap. In which case, they're probably already dead." "If so, then we should be likewise," Pairor pointed out. "Who are we that Kast would allow us to escape." "Yeah, well, we haven't exactly escaped yet," Trell reminded him tartly, eying the open air off the edge of the landing pad with stomach-churning apprehension. But procrastination wouldn't gain them anything except increased odds that someone inside the fortress would notice they were missing and raise the alarm. And besides-thanks to Kast Maranne and Riij were walking into a trap out there at the Mynock's Haven can-tina. Had possibly already walked into it. Riij he wasn't so much worried about-the guy was a Rebel agent and not his responsibility. But Maranne was his partner, and he was shragged if he'd abandon her to Thyne's thugs. "We waste time," Pairor rumbled at his side. "I will not leave Riij in danger." "Likewise," Trell said, keying in the repulsorlifts and throwing power to the drive. He wouldn't leave Maranne, and Pairor wouldn't leave Riij; and as the fortress roof dropped away beneath them he realized with hindsight's usual clarity that Kast had probably set up the various groupings with precisely those different loyalties in mind. Though to what end, he still didn't know. And wasn't sure he wanted to. He was still mulling over the question thirty seconds later when the two TIE bombers dropped neatly into formation beside him. They'd been sitting in the Mynock's Haven for nearly half an hour; and in Riij Winward's opinion, it was yet another bust. "They're not coming," he said quietly to the woman on the other side of the small table. "Whoever we were supposed to meet here, they aren't coming." "I think you're right," Maranne Darmic growled back, scratching viciously at the nape of her neck. "Score another big fat zero for the great and marvelousJodo Kast." "The greatly incompetent, you mean," Riij said, looking with distaste at the yellow and redjebwa flower in the center of their table. Kast's datacard had specified the flower as their identification marker, but so far none of the cantina's other patrons had given it a second glance. Considering the clientele, most of their first glances had been humiliating enough. "Yeah," Maranne agreed. "It makes you seriously wonder about his chances of getting Trell and Pairor and the others out of Zekka Thyne's place." "It makes me wonder if he even wants to get them out," Riij countered darkly. Maranne eyed him closely. "You think this whole thing was a setup?" "It's looking more and more that way," Riij said, scowling as he glanced around the cantina. "Look at the series of events. First he sends Trell to the wrong booth in Treasure Ship Row, which apparently tips off Thyne and his people that we're looking for Borbor Crisk. Then he sends Trell, Pairor, and Hal back and lets them get snatched. Finally, he goes there himself with Corran and sends us off on this idiot's errand. Someone in Kast's business can't possibly be that incompetent and have survived this long." "You think it's someone else posing as Kast?" Maranne suggested. "I mean, all we've ever seen is his armor." "Possibly," Riij said. "But now remember where this whole mess actually started: aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer." "With us squeezed into running an Imperial captain's errand." Maranne swore gently. "You're right. How stupid can one group of people be, anyway?" "We're in line for some prizes, all right," Riij agreed. "The only question is what exactly the game is that the Imperials are playing." "I vote for them trying to stir up trouble between Thyne and Crisk," Maranne said. "Maybe looking for an excuse to come down hard on both sides." "Using the spice and gems as bait," Riij said. "Still, whatever Kast's going for, there's one thing he doesn't know." Maranne smiled tightly. "That the cargo isn't aboard the Hopskip anymore. " "Exactly." Riij dropped a couple of coins on the table and stood up. "Come on, let's get out of here. Crisk's people aren't going to show." "So what's our next move?" Maranne asked, standing up beside him. "Kast's Plan B, I guess," Riij said, turning toward the door and elbowing them a path through a pack of loiterers. "We take our sample boxes to Thyne's fortress and see if we can make a deal to buy Trell and Pairor out." Maranne caught up to his side. "You're going to follow Kast's plan?" she asked incredulously. "What are you, crazy?" "No, just desperate," Riij conceded grimly. "Aside from the two of us storming the place, I don't see any other options." "What about your-" Maranne threw a quick glance around and lowered her voice. "What about your friends?" Riij grimaced. His friends: the Rebel Alliance. A reasonable enough request, he supposed, especially since the only reason he and Pairor had been aboard the Hopskip in the first place was to baby-sit the load of blasters Trell and Maranne had agreed to smuggle to the Rebels on Derra IV. Unfortunately-"They can't help us," he told her regretfully. "Even if the leaders agreed, it would take too long to gather together enough of a force to take on Thyne, Corellian Security, and the local Imperial garrison." "You sure they just don't want Prince Xizor and Black Sun mad at them?" Maranne asked nastily. "You have to pick your fights carefully, Maranne," Riij sighed. "Personally, I think we've already bit off more than we can swallow." "I suppose you're right," Maranne muttered. "Fine. Let's give Plan B a try." They had reached the door now, sliding their way through the middle of an incoming group of Duros and heading out into the muggy night air. The Hopskip's dilapidated landspeeder was parked in the small lot to the left-"Excuse me?" a hesitant voice called. Riij turned, his hand dropping automatically to the butt of his blaster. A heavyset man had emerged from the cantina a handful of steps behind them, their jebwa flower clutched in a meaty hand. "Yes?" "You forgot your flower," the man said, lobbing it through the air toward him. Automatically, Riij reached up to catch And suddenly there was a small blaster in the heavy man's fist. "Nice and easy," the man said. "Selty?" "I'm on it," a voice said from somewhere behind Riij. There was a. quick set of approaching footsteps, and Riij felt his blaster being lifted from its holster. Another moment, and Maranne had been disarmed as well. "Got 'em." "Now just keep moving," the first gunman said, gesturing Riij and Maranne in the direction they'd been going. "Let's go take a look at your landspeeder." The parking lot was dark and deserted. But it wasn't going to stay deserted for long. Even as Riij led the way toward the landspeeder he could see shadowy forms drifting in from all directions. Whoever had gotten the drop on them didn't seem interested in taking any chances. "You want to tell us which one's yours?" the heavyset man asked. "You want to tell us whose side you're on?" Riij countered. The other's eyes flashed. "Don't push it, scum," he warned harshly. "You're in enough trouble with us as it is." "Must be with Zekka Thyne," Maranne said ruefully. "Must be," Riij agreed, his heart pounding a little harder. So it was definitely to Plan B now. "It's that dirt-brown one over there." Two of the approaching thugs veered toward the land-speeder, the rest forming a loose but competent enough guard circle around the prisoners and their two escorts. A double-sided circle, Riij noted with interest, with as many of their members facing outward as inward. Expecting trouble, maybe? The thugs had the storage compartment open now and with grunts of satisfaction hauled out the two sleight boxes. "Got 'em, Grobber," one of them said. "Couple of sleight boxes, just like the man said." "All set to fill up, huh?" the heavyset man said, throwing a dark look at Riij. "I guess Kast wasn't blowing smoke rings after all." Riij threw a glance at Maranne, got the same look in return from her. They'd been right; Kast was definitely playing some crazy double - or triple-edged game here. "Kast told you about this?" he asked. "Sure did," Grobber assured him. "So what were these for, the first payment?" Riij shook his head. "Sorry, but I can't help you. We were hired to deliver the boxes and that was it." "Sure," Grobber growled. "Just deliver the boxes: And if Criskjust happened to fill them up while your back was turned-well, hey, that's none of your business, right? Promk, what the frink are you doing?" "What does it look like?" one of the men at the land-speeder retorted. He had carried one of the boxes around to the hood and was in the process of popping the seal with a knife. "A couple of wise guys, a couple of empty boxes; I figured it might be fun to send 'em on to Crisk with their heads inside." Riij was suddenly aware of his collar pressing against his throat. "I don't think that would be a good idea," he said, striving to keep his voice even. "You don't know where the rest of the boxes are." "We don't, huh?" Grobber sneered, digging out a comlink and thumbing it on. "Skinkner? Hey, Skinkner, look alive." "Funny, Grobber, funny," a twisted voice came back. "What d'ya want?" "You at the Dewback Storage Warehouse yet?" "Yeah, 'course we are. If you were hoping to report us to Thyne for slogging off, you're out of luck." "Wouldn't think of it," Grobber said, sending another sneer toward Riij. "Still think we don't know where the rest of the boxes are, hotshot?" Riij felt his stomach tighten. So much for Plan B. So much, too, for any leverage they might have had against Thyne and his mob. Any chance of rescuing Pairor and Trell was now squarely in his and Maranne's laps. Assuming they were able to find a way out of this, their own private mess. Carefully, keeping his movements ca sual, Riij looked around the ring of thugs, trying to formulate some kind of reasonable plan-"Mother of smoke/" Riij jerked his head back around. Standing beside the landspeeder, Promk had finally gotten the sleight box open. .. and even in the faint light Riij could see the stunned look on his face. "Grobber-you gotta-what the frinkingm?" "Have you gone dust-happy?" Grobber demanded, striding toward him. He got two steps, and then suddenly his face changed, too. "What the-.>" he gasped, all but leaping the rest of the distance to Promk's side. Riij sniffed the night breeze carefully, caught the faint odor of spice. "You were saying something about empty boxes?" he asked. Grobber ignored him. "Get the other one open," he ordered, pulling out a knife of his own and probing delicately into the spice. "Selty, get over here. The rest of you, watch for trouble." Seltyjoined his boss as Promk brought around the second box and set to work, and for a moment the two thugs conversed in low voices over the spice box. The debate was interrupted by the crack of breaking duraplast, and the two joined Promk by the second box. Someone whistled in awe. "Grobber-are those-?" "Durindfire gems," Grobber said, lifting his eyes like twin turbolasers to Riij's face. "Let's have it, pal, and let's have it straight and fast. What the frink kind of game are you playing, anyway?" "I told you before: we're not playing any games," Riij told him. "We were sent to deliver the cargo, and that's it. If there's a game going on, someone else is running it." "Kast," one of the other thugs snarled. "Or Kast and Crisk," Grobber snarled back, yanking out his comlink again. "Skinkner? Wake up, Skinkner." "What d'ya want?" the other's voice demanded. "Frink it all, Grobber-" "Shut up and listen," Grobber bit out. "You looked in any of those boxes yet?" "'Course not. Thyne said to just watch them until Crisk's blaster-boys came to fill them with-" "You idiot-they're already full," Grobber snapped. "Which means the contract's already been filled." The voice on the comlink swore. "Kast." "That's my bet," Grobber said. "Start getting your boys together-I'm going to raise Control." He keyed the comlink again. "Control? This is Grobber. Control?" "Grobber!" a new voice half barked, half gasped. "We've been trying to raise you for half an hour-where the frink are you? " "At the Mynock's Haven," Grobber said. "Listen-" "No, you listen," the other cut him off. "We're under attack here, skrag it-you've got to get back right away." "Wait a minute, wait a minute," Grobber said. "What attack? Who's attacking?" "Who do you think? The frinking Imperials, that's who." Grobber threw a startled glance at selty. "The Imperials?" "Started out as some anti-Rebel operation," Control said. "At least, that's what they told us. Then someone took a shot at them, and suddenly here they are, burning their way through the east wall." "Skrag! Where's Thyne?" "I don't know-we can't find him." "Must have gotten out," Selty muttered. "Or ducked into some private bunker," Grobber said. "All right, Control, we're on our way. Skinkner?" "We're packing up, too," Skinkner's voice confirmed. "You want us to do anything with these other sleight boxes?" "To blazes with the boxes," Control snapped. "We need you here." "No, pack 'em up and bring 'em along," Grobber said. "Grobber-" "They're worth a fortune," Grobber growled. "Thyne'll have our heads if we leave 'em behind. Come on, how much trouble can a few Imperials be?" Faintly over the comlink came the sound of a distant explosion. "That answer your question?" Control snarled. "Get the frink back here." And with a sudden hiss, the comlink went dead. "They're jamming it," Grobber growled, shoving the cylinder back into his belt. "Selty, you take Promk and Bullkey and get these two and their landspeeder back to the fortress. Everyone else, back to the airspeeders. Move it!" The others scattered. "Don't get any ideas," Grobber warned softly, glaring from under creased eyebrows at Riij and Maranne. "We're a long ways from being done with you two yet." With that he stomped off after the rest of his mob, disappearing just as they had appeared back into the shadows again. "Get over here," Selty snapped, Waving Riij and Maranne forward. Somewhere in the distance an avian or insect whistled, sounding strangely out of place in the urban setting. "Bullkey?" "I'm on 'em," a deep voice came from behind Riij, the confidence backed up by a blaster nudge in the back. "Com on, move it." Riij started forward; and as he did so, Maranne veered slightly toward him and nudged him with her elbow. "Get ready," she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. At the landspeeder Promk, under Selty's direction, had picked up the box containing the Durindfire gems and was carrying it back toward the storage compartment. The strange avian whistled again; and suddenly, inexplicably, one of the bottom edges of the box split open, spilling the gems out onto the ground. "Promk!" Selty squeaked, aghast. "You stupid idiot." He jumped forward, grabbing at the box as Promk tried to turn it upside down. For a moment they both fumbled with it, the prisoners temporarily forgotten - And from behind Riij came a short gurgle and a muffled thump. Beside him, he sensed Maranne preparing to charge. "Not yet," he muttered, touching her warningly as he lengthened his stride. Preoccupied with the spilled gems, Selty and Promk hadn't yet noticed what had happened over here. Another four paces... three... if they'd just fight with the box another few seconds... one.... "Now," he murmured; and jumping forward, he put his left palm down on the landspeeder's hood and leaped over the vehicle to slam both feet hard against Promk's chest. The thug didn't even have a chance to gurgle as he hit the ground, the sleight box spinning out of his hands into the darkness. Selty did have time for a startled curse and a grab for his holstered blaster before he went down with Maranne on top of him. A savage jab with her knee, and he went limp. "Are you injured?" Pairor rumbled from behind them. "No, we're fine," Riij assured him, regaining his balance and turning around. Behind the Tunroth, the third thug was lying in an unnaturally crumpled heap. "Nice job with Bullkey," he added. "Not to mention the box," Maranne added, retrieving their appropriated blasters from Selty's belt and tossing Riij's back to him. "How'd you manage that one?" "That was mine," Trell said, stepping out from behind one of the other parked landspeeders and crossing to them. "Just an exquisitely well-thrown molecular stiletto." "A whistle code and a molecular stiletto," Riij said, shaking his head wonderingly. "You two are just full of tricks, aren't you?" "The stiletto was a gift," Trell said, crouching down beside the sleight box. "Blast-the blade's broken." "Never mind the blade," Maranne said, crouching down beside him. "Get the gems." "Forget the gems," Riij told her, peering off in the direction Grobber and the others had gone. The rescue had been remarkably quiet, but if Grobber took it into his head to fly over this spot on the way back to Thyne's fortress, the four of them could still end up fertilizing a patch of razor grass. "Let's just get out of here." "But-" "No, he's right," Trell said through clearly clenched teeth. "If whatever's going on back at Thyne's place dies down fast enough we could still find Grobber's buddies camping out in the Hopskip's cargo bay. Just grab the box and whatever's still left inside." Maranne hissed something vile sounding, but she nevertheless stood up, the now half-empty box in her hands. "Fine," she said bitterly. "What about the spice?" "Leave it here," Trell told her. "Corran said we wouldn't want to get caught shipping spice, and I'm rather inclined to agree with him." "We can call CorSec on the way and tell them where to pick it up," Riij added. "Now let's go." They all piled into the landspeeder. "Speaking of Corran and CorSec," Trell commented as he spun the vehicle around and kicked power to the engines. "Turns out they're one and the same." "Corran's with Corellian Security?" Maranne asked, frowning at him. "You're joking." "That's how he and Hal were talking, anyway," Trell said. "Last we saw, they were heading off after Thyne." Riij winced. "In the middle of Thyne's fortress? They haven't got a chance." "That was also our estimation," Pairor agreed. "But counting the number of Thyne's warriors here and those fighting the Imperials outside his stronghold, it seems likely the core areas within may have been nearly deserted." "'Nearly' might not have been good enough," Maranne said. "And what about Kast? He was still there, wasn't he?" "I've given up trying to guess what kind of game Kast is playing," Trell said, twisting the landspeeder hard to get around a Herglic-parked speeder truck. "All I know is that he's the one who gave Corran the molecular stiletto that got us out of there." "And we do not believe it was merely a trap," Pairor added. "We were challenged by Imperial TIE bombers as we left the stronghold; yet upon identification, we were permitted to pass." "That had to be Corran and Hal's doing," Trell said. "CorSec's supposed to be working pretty closely with the Imperials these days." "Yes," Riij murmured, thinking back to the brief argument he'd had with Corran about the Rebellion. And now to find out Corran was actually CorSec. Could he have guessed Riij's true loyalties from that conversation? "We were both permitted to pass," Pairor reminded him softly. "I understand," Riij told him. "I also understand that the way everything else here's been going, that doesn't mean a whole lot. If we get to the Hopskip without running into an ambush-from any of the sides of this crazy powerplay-then maybe I'll believe we've gotten away with it." "Gotten away with what?" Maranne asked. Riij spread his hands. "With whatever in blazes we did here." There was indeed no ambush poised outside the Hop-skip. Nor were any of their former companionsCorran, Hal, or Kast-waiting there. What was there was a single datacard. "Looks like the same stuff that Kast used to stick the molecular stiletto to Corran's cell bars," Trell commented, poking experimentally at the bits of adhesive residue that had been left on the datacard. "Should we read it here, or inside?" "Inside," Riij said firmly, taking the datacard from him and glancing around. "And not until we're out of here. You and Maranne get the pre-flight started; Pairor and I'll check to make sure no one left us any surprises." Trell had the engines nursed and sputtering to life, and Maranne had the nav computer working on their course, when Riij and pairor returned from their tour of the ship. "Looks clean," Riij told the others as the two of them took their seats. "Or at least, there's nothing obvious. You talked to the tower yet?" "We're third in line to leave," Maranne told him. "You want to read us a sleepy-time story now?" "Sure," Riij said. From behind Trell came a faint rubbing sound-Riij getting the last bits of adhesive off the datacard, probably-and then the brief scraping as he slid it into his datapad. "It's from Kast," Riij said. "'To the crew and passengers of the Hopskip: well done." "Well done!" Maranne growled. "What in blazes-?" "Shh," Trell cut her off. "Go on." "'You have adequately completed the mission that was assigned you," Riij continued." 'You may return now to the Admonitor and retrieve your cargo. This datacard will serve as proof to Captain Niriz that you have fulfilled your side of the bargain and may have your cargo returned to you." Then it's signed with his name and what looks like some kind of ID mark." "So he's not going back, huh?" Trell said, an odd feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach. "I'm not sure I like that." "He must have arranged his payment to be delivered somewhere else," Maranne said. "It didn't look like he and Niriz got along very well." "Perhaps his payment is in the remainder of the sleight boxes," pairor said. "I wouldn't count on it," Riij said. "There's a postscript: 'Do not return to the Dewback Storage Warehouse for the other sleight boxes. They are empty." "What?" Trell growled, half turning to glare back at Riij over his shoulder. "Come on, now, that's just crazy. You're telling me the two boxes you happened to take to the Mynock's Haven were the only ones with anything in them? What are the odds of that happening?" "Not too bad, really," Maranne said grimly. "Not when you consider that they were the only two we knew we could open and then reseal again. They were leading us around by the nose the whole way, weren't they?" "The whole way," Riij agreed." 'And don't bother with either the Durindfire gems or the spice. Both are counterfeit." Trell looked across the cockpit, to find Maranne looking back at him. There didn't seem to be anything to say. There was another faint scraping behind him as Riij pulled the datacard from the datapad. "Look, we got in and out again alive," he reminded them, reaching over Trell's shoulder to hand him the datacard. "My instructors used to say that no mission you walked away from was a complete failure. Maybe we'll meet Corran and Hal someday and find out what this whole thing was all about." Trell turned the datacard over in his hand. "I doubt it," he said. "I'd say chances are good that neither of them knew what was going on, either." He slid the datacard into a storage slot on his board. "Come on, Maranne. Let's get out of here." "I know this sort of thing embarrasses you," Captain Niriz said as he poured his guest a glass of aged R'alla mineral water, "so I'll only say it once. When I heard the reports of military action on CoreIlia, I was concerned for your safety. I'm glad to find out my fears were unfounded." "Thank you, Captain," Grand Admiral Thrawn said, accepting the proffered glass and taking a sip. He was still wearing his Jodo Kast armor, though without the helmet and gauntlets. "You're wrong, though, about expression of concern and support being an embarrassment. On the contrary, loyalty is one of the two qualities I value most in my subordinates and colleagues." "And the other?" Niriz asked, pouring a glass of R'alla water for himself. "Competence," Thrawn said. "Has the Hopskip's cargo been reloaded aboard yet?" "It's being done, sir," Niriz said. With most people, he thought distantly, the addition of Mandalorian armor would instantly create a powerful air of strength and mystery. With Thrawn, in contrast, it almost seemed to detract from the sense of authority that was already there. "The bridge has orders to let me know when they leave." He cocked an eyebrow. "Which reminds me: you promised to let me know what all this was about when you returned." "And I intend to do so," Thrawn assured him. "I'm waiting for one other person to join us here first." Behind Niriz, the door slid open. Niriz turned, opening his mouth to reprimand whoever this officer or crewer was who would dare enter the captain's private office without permission-And an instant later was scrambling to his feet, the harsh words dying in his throat as if they'd been choked to death. The armored figure striding with casual arrogance through the door-"Ah; Lord Vader," Thrawn said, rising more easily to his feet. "Welcome aboard the Admonitor. We're honored by your presence." "As we are with yours, Admiral Thrawn," Lord Darth Vader said, a distinct edge of challenge in his deep voice. "You're nearly six hours late." "I know, my Lord, and I apologize for keeping you waiting," Thrawn said, nodding his head deferentially. "As it turned out, I was forced to significantly modify the plan I originally outlined to you." "But the objective was achieved?" Vader demanded. "It was indeed," Thrawn said. "Zekka Thyne and the Corellian branch of Prince Xizor's Black Sun have been effectively eliminated." Niriz looked at Thrawn in surprise. "Zekka Thyne? But I thought-" "You thought the Emperor had an arrangement with Xizor?" Vader demanded, turning that grisly mask toward him. Niriz swallowed. Vader's reputation concerning flag officers who had displeased him... but on the other hand, Thrawn demanded absolute honesty from his subordinates. "Yes, my Lord," he said. "I did." Vader's stiff posture seemed to ease slightly. "For the moment, perhaps, that is true. But such arrangements are made to be altered." He turned back to Thrawn. "Yet I understood there was Imperial action against Thyne's stronghold." "A small battle only," Thrawn assured him. "And the battle was instigated from Thyne's side, as both sides' recorders will bear out. The record will also show the Imperials were in the area solely because of information their commander received suggesting a Rebel force was gathering in the forest there." "Information which you supplied, of course?" Vader asked. "Of course," Thrawn nodded. "And since there can be no possible link between the verification code I used and any of your forces or contacts, Prince Xizor will be unable to create any connection between you and the mysterious informant." "Yet Imperial troops were involved," Vader persisted. "His first thought will certainly be of me." Thrawn shook his head. "In fact, my Lord, the marginal Imperial involvement will actually tend to exonerate you in his eyes. He would expect you to launch either a full-fledged Imperial attack which he could easily trace back to you-or else to scrupulously avoid Imperial forces entirely, relying perhaps on your quiet bounty hunter or mercenary contacts. The ambiguity of the actual event will leave him confused and uncertain. Which, I believe, was one of your key objectives." "It was," Vader said, sounding a little uncertain. "But as you say, Xizor knows of my bounty hunter connections. Even though Jodo Kast is not among them, your assassination of Thyne while disguised as Kast will again lead his attention to me." Thrawn smiled. "Yes, but I didn't assassinate Thyne. I was able to leave his fate in the hands of a pair of undercover CorSec agents." Vader cocked his head slightly to the side. "I don't recall Corellian Security ever being mentioned in our discussions, Admiral." "The two agents attached themselves to my group," Thrawn said. "And it was obvious right from the start that they were in Coronet City for the specific purpose of getting to Thyne. It presented such a perfect opportunity that I decided to modify the original plan so that they would be the ones to deal with him." "Then Thyne isn't dead?" Thrawn shrugged. "At the very least he's out of power," he said. "Actually, having him in CorSec custody would actually serve your purposes better than a quick death. It would leave Prince Xizor wondering if the Corellians were digging any dangerous secrets out of him. A major distraction; and distraction, I believe, was another of your key objectives." There was a tone from the comm. Stepping to the console, Niriz keyed it on. "Niriz," he said. "Hangar Bay Control, sir," a voice said. "Reporting as per orders that the Hopskip has just left." "Thank you," Niriz said. "Signal the bridge to watch its vector when it jumps to lightspeed." "Yes, sir." Niriz keyed the comm off. "I gather the smugglers and their Rebel friends performed their part adequately?" Vader asked. "Quite adequately," Thrawn assured him. "They provided the necessary excuse for me to move Thyne's men out and clear the way for the CorSec agents. " The unseen eyes behind the black mask seemed to bore into Thrawn's face. "And the other part of your plan?" Thrawn cocked a blue-black eyebrow at Niriz, "Captain?" "Yes, sir," Niriz said. "A homing device has been installed inside each of the hidden blasters they were smuggling." "And the boxes repacked exactly as they were?" "To the millimeter," Niriz confirmed. "They'll have no way of knowing the boxes were even opened, let alone tampered with." The Dark Lord nodded. "Excellent," he said. The comm pinged again. "Captain, this is the bridge. The Hopskip just jumped to lightspeed. Their vector's confirmed for the Shibric system." "Thank you." Niriz looked at Thrawn, lifted his eyebrows. The Grand Admiral nodded. "Have them prepare a course back to the Unknown Regions," he instructed. "Our task here is finished." "Yes, sir." Niriz gave the order and keyed off the comm. "Unless," Thrawn added, looking at Vader, "you'd like me to deal with Prince Xizor directly for you." "It is indeed a tempting thought," Vader said, his voice dark with veiled menace. "One alien against another? But no. Xizor is mine." "As you wish," Thrawn said. "Incidentally, I doubt that Shibric is the final destination for those Rebel blasters. From their vector, and other bits and pieces I gleaned along the trip, my guess is that their ultimate collection point will be somewhere in the Derra system." "The homing devices will show us for certain," Vader said. "But the Derra system is rumored to have a strong Rebel presence. I'll make sure to have some forces waiting there." "Very good," Thrawn said. "One final suggestion, and then I suspect we must both be on our separate ways. I understand the general in command of the Executor's ground forces resigned suddenly a month ago. I was able to watch the battle outside Thyne's stronghold for a while as I waited to make sure the smugglers escaped; and in my opinion the Imperial officer in command is being wasted in a garrison assignment." "Your opinion carries considerable weight," Vader said. "As I'm sure you know. The officer's name?" "Colonel Veers," Thrawn said. "From the level of his tactical skill, I'd also say he's long overdue for a promotion. Perhaps his political connections within the command structure leave something to be desired." "Political connections do not concern me," Vader rumbled, stepping to the door. "I will see what I can do with this Colonel Veers. Thank you, Admiral." "My pleasure, Lord Vader," Thrawn said with a respectful tilt of his head. "One favor for another. Perhaps we'll have the chance to work again together." Once again, the hidden eyes seemed to probe the Grand Admiral's face. "Perhaps," he said. "Farewell, Admiral." And with a swirl of his long cloak he was gone. "An interesting exercise, " Thrawn commented, crossing to the R'alla bottle and refilling his and Niriz's glasses. "I don't know though. I sense that this Rebellion is more powerful and better organized than perhaps Lord Vader realizes. I hope our activities here will allow him to deliver a crushing blow against it." His glowing red eyes glittered as he took a sip from his glass. "But that's not our concern, at least for now. Our concern is the Unknown Regions; and it's time we were getting back." "Yes, sir." Niriz hesitated. "If I may be so bold, Admiral... your last comment implied that you received something in return for helping Vader against Thyne and Black Sun. May I ask what that favor was?" "A very personal gift, Captain," Thrawn said. "Which was why I felt the need to personally orchestrate Thyne's destruction. Lord Vader has turned over to me command of a group of alien commandos who have proven themselves highly valuable to him over the years. While I won't have much use for them in the Unknown Regions, I have no doubt I'll eventually be returning to the Empire proper. At that time-well, we shall see what they can do." "I never heard of Vader employing aliens," Niriz said doubtfully. "Are you sure he's telling-well-" "The truth?" Thrawn smiled. "Indeed he is. Mark their name well, Captain: the Noghri. I guarantee you'll be hearing more of them." He drained his glass and set it down. "But now to the bridge. The Unknown Regions are calling; and we have a great deal of work yet to do."