Series |
Hand of Thrawn Duology - Book 2 |
|
Pages |
694 |
|
Purchase |
Amazon.com |
|
Setting |
19 years after ANH |
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Published |
October 1999 |
For a beleaguered Empire, desperate times call for desperate measures. Sowing discord among the fragile coalition of the New Republic, remnants of the once powerful Empire make one last play for victory. Having implicated the Bothans in the genocide of the Caamasi, they now plan an attack on Han and Leia that is also to be blamed on the Bothans. If they are successful, the New Republic will be torn asunder. To prevent inevitable disaster, Luke, Leia, Han and their friends must prove the Bothans innocent and reveal the Empire's treachery. But time is running out.
The cunning Major Tierce has joined forces with the ambitious Moff Disra in the Empire's master plan. At its heart lies the most elaborate con of all: the rumor that the legendary Grand Admiral Thrawn, long believed dead, has returned to lead the Empire to a prophesied triumph. The news of Thrawn's return is already rallying Imperial forces against the New Republic.
As Leia travels to a secret rendezvous with an Imperial commander who claims to want peace, Han and Lando Calrissian journey into enemy territory to learn the truth of Caamas's destruction. Meanwhile, Luke and Mara Jade infiltrate a hidden fortress where Thrawn's most fanatical followers await his call to arms. And Talon Karrde returns to his underworld past and a brutal crime lord whose knowledge may save the Republic. But it is the truth about Thrawn that is the most important. In his hands--alive or dead--rests the fate of the New Republic.
Excerpt
The
Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera slid through the black of
space, its only companion the silent gas giant world of Pesitiin
far below.
Admiral Pellaeon was standing at the forward viewport, gazing out
at the dead planet, when Captain Ardiff arrived on the bridge.
"Report from Major Harch, Admiral," he said briskly.
"All damage from that pirate attack has been repaired. Your
ship is back to full fighting readiness."
"Thank you, Captain," Pellaeon said, carefully hiding a
smile. In the thirty hours since the failed attack on the Chimaera,
Ardiff had gone from believing it to be a raid by New Republic
General Garm Bel Iblis, to suspicions that it had been engineered
by dissident Imperial elements, to similar suspicions involving
similarly dissident Rebels, and was now apparently convinced that
a pirate gang was responsible.
Of course, in all fairness, Ardiff had had the past thirty
hours to cogitate on his theories. The techs' preliminary report
on the debris from that destroyed Kaloth battlecruiser had
certainly influenced his thinking, too. "Anything new from
the patrols?" Pellaeon asked.
"Just more negatives, sir," Ardiff said. "Still no
indications of activity anywhere in the system. Oh, and the
sensor-stealthed assault shuttle you sent on the attackers'
escape vector also just checked in. Still no trace."
Pellaeon nodded. As expected, really--anyone who could afford to
buy and fly a battlecruiser usually knew a few tricks about
hiding it. "It was worth a try," he told Ardiff.
"Have them try one more system; we can transmit that far
without relays. If they haven't picked up the trail by then,
order them back."
"Yes, sir," Ardiff murmured.
Even without looking, Pellaeon could sense Ardiff's hesitation.
"A question, Captain?" he prompted.
"It's this communications blackout, sir," Ardiff said.
"I don't like being so completely out of contact this way.
It's like being blind and deaf; and frankly, it makes me
nervous."
"I don't much like it myself," Pellaeon conceded.
"But the only ways to make contact with the outside universe
are to either transmit to an Imperial relay station or punch our
way onto the HoloNet; and the minute we do either, everyone from
Coruscant to Bastion will know we're here. If that happens, we'll
have more than the occasional pirate gang lining up to take
potshots at us."
And, he added silently, it would be the end of any chance for a
quiet meeting between him and Bel Iblis. Assuming the general was
indeed willing to talk.
"I understand all that, Admiral," Ardiff said.
"But has it occurred to you that yesterday's attack might
not have been an isolated incident against an isolated Imperial
ship?"
Pellaeon cocked an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting it might
have been part of a coordinated attack against the Empire?"
"Why not?" Ardiff said. "I'm willing to concede at
this point that it probably wasn't the New Republic who hired
them. But why couldn't the pirates have set it up on their own?
The Empire has always come down hard on pirate gangs. Maybe a
group of them got together and decided the time was right for
revenge."
Pellaeon stroked his lip thoughtfully. On the surface, it was a
ridiculous suggestion--even on its deathbed the Empire was far
stronger than any possible aggregate of pirate gangs could hope
to defeat. But that didn't mean they wouldn't be foolish enough
to try. "That still leaves the question of how they knew we
were here," he pointed out.
"We still don't know what happened to Colonel Vermel,"
Ardiff reminded him. "Maybe it was this pirate coalition who
snatched him. He could have told them about Pesitiin."
"Not willingly," Pellaeon said darkly. "If they
did what it would take to make him talk, I'll decorate Bastion's
moon with their hides."
"Yes, sir," Ardiff said. "But that brings us back
to the question of how long we're going to stay here."
Pellaeon looked out the viewport at the stars. Yes, that was
indeed the question. How long should they wait here in the middle
of nowhere in the hope that this slow attrition of the Empire
could be stopped? That they could end this war with the New
Republic with a shred of territory and dignity still intact?
That they could finally have peace?
"Two weeks," he said. "We'll give Bel Iblis
another two weeks to respond to our offer."
"Even though the message may not have reached him?"
"The message reached him," Pellaeon said firmly.
"Vermel is a highly resourceful, highly competent officer.
Whatever happened to him, I have no doubt he completed his
mission first."
"Yes, sir," Ardiff said, his tone making it clear that
he didn't share Pellaeon's confidence. "And if Bel Iblis
doesn't come within that time frame?"
Pellaeon pursed his lips. "We'll decide then."
Ardiff hesitated, then took half a step closer to his superior.
"You really believe this is our best hope, sir, don't
you," he said quietly.
Pellaeon shook his head. "No, Captain," he murmured.
"I believe it's our only hope."
The wedge of approaching Sienar IPV/4 patrol ships broke in
perfect formation to both sides, and the Imperial Star Destroyer Relentless
glided smoothly between the re-forming clusters toward its
designated orbital position. "Very impressive," Moff
Disra growled to the slim man beside him, hearing his heart
pounding in his ears as he gazed across the bridge at the
green-blue world framed in the forward viewport. "I trust
you didn't haul me all the way out here just to watch the
Kroctarian home defense force's maneuvers."
"Patience, Your Excellency," Major Grodin Tierce said
quietly at his side. "I told you we had a surprise for
you."
Disra felt his lip twist. Yes, that's what Tierce had said. And
that was all Tierce had said. And as for Flim--
Disra shifted his gaze to the Admiral's chair, feeling his lip
twist a little more. Their tame con man was sitting there, bold
as bricbrass in his blue-skin makeup and glowing red eye surface
inserts and his white Grand Admiral's uniform. The absolute
laser-trimmed image of Grand Admiral Thrawn, a masquerade solidly
believed by every Imperial aboard the Relentless from
Captain Dorja on down.
Trouble was, there weren't any Imperials on the planet below
them. Far from it. Kroctar, merchant center and capital of
Shataum sector, was deep in New Republic territory, with every
bit as much military firepower as one would expect such a world
to have. There was no guarantee that any of them would be
impressed by Flim's eyes and uniform and acting ability.
And if they weren't, this cozy little triumvirate Disra had
formed was about to blow up in their faces. Flim might look like
Thrawn, but he had all the tactical genius of a garbage-pit
parasite. Tierce, a former stormtrooper and Royal Guardsman under
Emperor Palpatine, was the military brains of their little group;
and if Captain Dorja saw an allegedly lowly major rush over to
the allegedly brilliant Grand Admiral to give him advice, this
whole illusion would explode into soap scum. Whatever bluff
Tierce was running here, it had better work.
"Transmission from the surface, Admiral," the comm
officer called from the portside crew pit. "It's Lord
Superior Bosmihi, chief of the Unified Factions."
"On speaker, Lieutenant," Thrawn said. "Lord
Superior Bosmihi, this is Grand Admiral Thrawn. I received your
message. What may I do for you?"
Disra frowned at Tierce. "They called us?" he
muttered.
Tierce nodded, a small but satisfied smile playing around his
lips. "Shh," he said. "Listen."
"We offer you greeting, Grand Admiral Thrawn," a
nasally alien voice boomed over the comm, "and we
congratulate you most heartily on your triumphal return."
"Thank you," Thrawn said smoothly. "As I recall,
you were somewhat less enthusiastic at our last meeting."
Disra threw Tierce a sharp look. "During his sweep through
this sector ten years ago," Tierce murmured. "Don't
worry, he knows all about it."
The alien gave a blubbering laugh. "Ah, yes--you remember
most clearly," he admitted cheerfully. "At that time
the fear of Imperial power and the lure of promised freedoms
still held sway over us."
"Such lies held sway over many," Thrawn agreed.
"Does your choice of words imply the Kroctari have come to a
new understanding?"
There was a disgusting, wheezy-sounding noise from the comm.
"We have seen the crumbling of the promise," the Lord
Superior said regretfully. "There is no longer any order
emanating from Coruscant; no focused goals, no clear structures,
no discipline. A thousand different alien species tug the galaxy
in a thousand different directions."
"Inevitably," Thrawn said. "That was why Emperor
Palpatine first inaugurated the New Order. It was an attempt to
reverse the collapse you now see coming."
"Yet we were also warned not to trust Imperial
promises," Bosmihi hedged. "The history of the Empire
is one of brutal subjugation of nonhuman species."
"You speak of the rule of Palpatine," Thrawn said.
"The Empire has freed itself from his self-destructive
anti-alien bias."
"Your presence in a place of command is some evidence of
that," Bosmihi said cautiously. "Still, others still
say the bias exists."
"Others still lie about the Empire in many ways,"
Thrawn countered. "But there's no need for you to take my
word for it. Speak to any of the fifteen alien species currently
living under Imperial rule, beings who cherish the protection and
stability we offer."
"Yes--protection." The Lord Superior seemed to pounce
on the word. "The Empire is said to be weak; yet I perceive
that you still have great strength. What guarantee of safety do
you offer your member systems?"
"The best guarantee in the galaxy," Thrawn said; and
even Disra felt a shiver run through him at the veiled power and
menace that was suddenly in the con man's voice. "My
personal promise of vengeance should anyone dare attack
you."
There was a noise that sounded midway between a swallow and a
burp. "I see," Bosmihi said soberly. "I understand
that this is rather sudden, and for this I apologize; but on
behalf of the Unified Factions of the Kroctari people, I would
like to petition you for readmission into the Empire."
Disra looked at Tierce, feeling his jaw drop a few millimeters.
"Readmission?" he hissed.
Tierce smiled back. "Surprise, Your Excellency."
"On behalf of the Empire, I accept your petition,"
Thrawn said. "You no doubt have a delegation standing ready
to discuss the details?"
"You understand my people well, Grand Admiral Thrawn,"
the Lord Superior said wryly. "Yes, my delegation does
indeed await your pleasure."
"Then you may signal them to approach," Thrawn told
him. "As it happens, Imperial Moff Disra is currently aboard
the Relentless. As he is a specialist in political
matters, he will handle the negotiations."
"We will be honored to meet with him," Bosmihi said.
"Though I doubt his presence there is in any way the
coincidence you imply. Thank you, Grand Admiral Thrawn; and until
the meeting."
"Until the meeting, Lord Superior Bosmihi," Thrawn
said.
He gestured to the crew pit. "Transmission ended,
Admiral," the comm officer confirmed.
"Thank you," Thrawn said, rising almost leisurely from
his command chair. "Signal TIE interceptors to stand ready
for escort duty. They're to meet the Lord Superior's shuttle as
soon as it clears atmosphere, flying in full honor formation.
Captain Dorja, I'd like you to meet the shuttle personally and
escort the delegation to Conference Room 68. Moff Disra will
await you there."
"Understood, Admiral," Dorja said. He strode from the
bridge, throwing Disra a tightly satisfied smile as he passed,
and stepped into a waiting turbolift in the aft bridge. "You
might have said something," Disra muttered to Tierce as the
turbolift door closed behind the captain.
The Guardsman shrugged, a microscopic movement of the shoulders.
"I wasn't absolutely sure this was what they wanted when
they called," he said, gesturing Disra through the aft doors
toward another turbolift. "But it seemed like a good guess.
Kroctar has several potentially dangerous neighbors, and
Intelligence reports the Unified Factions have become extremely
disillusioned by Coruscant's inability to decide how tight a
restraining bolt they want to keep on intersystem fighting."
They reached the turbolift and stepped into a waiting car.
"Kroctar's the first," Tierce continued as the doors
closed and they began to move. "But it won't be the last. We
already have transmissions from twenty other systems whose
governments would like Grand Admiral Thrawn to drop in for a
chat."
Disra snorted. "All they're trying to do is shake up their
enemies."
"Probably," Tierce agreed. "But what do we care
why they want to rejoin? The point is that they do, and it's
going to send shock waves from here to Coruscant."
"Until Coruscant decides to take action."
"What action can they take?" Tierce countered.
"Their own charter specifically allows member systems to
withdraw anytime they choose."
There was a beep from the turbolift comlink. "Moff
Disra?"
"Yes?"
"There's a transmission coming in for you, Your Excellency,
under a private encryption designated Usk-51."
Disra felt his stomach try to cramp. Of all the stupid,
brainless--"Thank you," he said as calmly as he could
manage. "Have it transferred to Conference Room 68, and make
sure it's not monitored."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Tierce was frowning at him. "That's not--?"
"It certainly is," Disra bit out. The turbolift doors
opened--"Come on. And stay out of sight."
Two minutes later they were in the conference room with the door
privacy-sealed behind them. Activating the comm display set into
the center of the table, Disra pulled the proper encryption
datacard from his collection and slid it into the slot. He keyed
for reception--
"It's about time," Captain Zothip spat, his eyes
flashing, his bushy blond beard bristling with anger. "Don't
you think I've got better things to do than--?"
"What!" Disra barked. Zothip's head jerked back,
his own tirade breaking off midway in sudden confusion. "Do
. . . you . . . think . . . you're . . . doing?" Disra
continued into the silence, biting out each word like the crack
of a rotten snapstick. "How dare you take such an
insane risk?"
"Never mind your precious image," Zothip growled, some
of his insolence starting to come back. "If consorting with
pirates is suddenly an embarrassment for you--"
"Embarrassment is not the issue here," Disra said
icily. "I'm thinking about our two necks, and whether we get
to keep them. Or hadn't you noticed how many relays there are in
this transmission?"
"No kidding," Zothip said with a sniff. "And here
I thought it was just your wonderful Imperial comm equipment
kicking ions again. So where are you, out at your vacation home
counting your money?"
"Hardly," Disra said. "I'm aboard an Imperial Star
Destroyer."