The Hand Of Thrawn Duology_ Specter Of The Past Part 36

The Tower's second-floor shopping complex was quite extensive, and it took her no more than five minutes to collect the three items she needed. One minute after that, armed with a length of brocaded white ribbon, a cheap datapad, and a bottle of equally cheap but awesomely strong dodbri whiskey, she was in the -turbolift heading up.

?????? it would be a short ride, she knew, but she already had the details mapped out in her mind and set to work with no wasted motions. Popping the cap off the whiskey, she splashed a little of the potent concoction onto the collar of her slightly bedraggled ankle-length dress and then sipped a little into her mouth. Wincing at the tingle, she swished it around while she poured the rest of the bottle into the decorative flower boxes that ran around the upper part of the car. She spat her mouthful back into the bottle, glad to be rid of it, then turned her attention to the ribbon. The traditional Coruscant wedding hairbow was tricky to tie, but she knew a variant that was quick and simple and looked enough like the real thing to fool anyone but an experienced observer.

By the time the doors opened onto the Tower's rooftop observation deck, she was ready for her performance. Bottle clutched in one hand, datapad in the other, she stepped out of the car and H threw a casual and calculatedly unsteady look around. No one was visible among the deserted tables and chairs and decorative shrubbery. But then, the group of personal guards that surrounded Councilor Organa Solo seldom were. Getting a fresh grip on her bottle, she set off in a staggering walk for the edge of the roof.

The guard she knew had to be there hadn't made his appearance by the time she reached the chin-high latticework guardrail set into a solid knee-high base. "So fine, Ravis," she muttered to herself in a slurred and despondent voice as she dropped the bottle and datapad onto the roof beside the guardrail. "You don' wanna, huh? Fine. I can get outta your life', if tha's what you wan'. I can get all the way out-"

She broke off with a single underplayed sob. Digging her fingers into the holes of the lattice, she pressed herself against the barrier and twisted her head sideways to peer over and down at the ground below, her senses alert. There was a single whisper of sound from behind her, and then nothing.

So they were going to need more from her before they made any move. Fine; she could oblige them. Extracting her fingers from the guardrail, continuing to sob softly under her breath, she retrieved the datapad and set it down on a nearby chair, propping it up to be clearly visible. With slightly fumbling fingers she pulled the wedding bow out of her hair, kissed it theatrically, and placed it down in front of the datapad. She took another moment to carefully arrange the two items together; then, squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and stepped back to the roof edge. Gripping the lattice again, she climbed up onto the base and swung one leg over the top of the guardrail.

Or rather, tried to. Even as she swung the leg up she heard another whisper of sound, and a band suddenly grabbed her waist sash, tugging her backward and forcing her to bring her leg back down to maintain her balance. "Do not do this," a gravelly catlike voice mewed softly from behind her.

"Le' me go," Shada moaned, letting go of the lattice with her left band and slapping ineffectually at his arm. "Le' me go. He doesn' care bout me-he sai' so. He doesn' wan' me anymore. Le' me go."

"This is not the way," the Noghri said, pulling her gently but firmly. "Come inside and we will speak."

"Done wi' talking," Shada muttered, half turning to look down at him and making sure he could smell the whiskey on her breath as she threw a quick glance over the rooftop. No one else was visible. "Please-he' me go," she pleaded, grabbing the lattice again with her left hand and pulling upward against his grip. "Please."

"No," the Noghri repeated, pulling back with more strength than she would have thought a creature that small could manage. Her fingers strained against the pull&mdash And without warning she let go, spinning halfway around as she fell straight at him.

The Noghri was fast, all right By the time she'd rotated far enough around to see him he'd already moved a step to the side to get out of her way. His free arm came up, ready to catch her shoulders and break her fall&mdash And as she fell into that wiry grip, her band jabbed hard into the side of his throat.

Without a sound, his legs buckled beneath him and they collapsed together onto the rooftop.

For a few seconds she lay there, still sobbing drunkenly, her eyes darting around the rooftop for signs of a backup. But the Noghri was apparently up here alone.

Which wasn't to say he hadn't checked in before rushing off to save the despondent drunk bent on self-destruction. If be had, she didn't have much time. If he hadn't, she wouldn't have much more.

Stripping off the dress that had concealed her combat jumpsuit, keeping one eye on the turbolift door, she set to work.

Karrde turned his gla.s.s around in his band, his eyes on the remains of his drink as it swirled partway up the side in response to the movement. "You're sure about all this," he said.

"I'm sure," Lando said positively. "I searched through what we've got of the old Imperial archives and found every recording they had of Thrawn. There wasn't much, but it definitely looked and sounded like the man I saw."

"Which doesn't mean it couldn't be a trick," Han put in, throwing a surrept.i.tious look at Leia. If Karrde's att.i.tude was all an act-if he was secretly behind this Thrawn sighting of Lando's-then she ought to have pulled the proof of that from his mind by now.

But her face had the same grim expression that had been there when Lando first started his story; and even as he watched, her eyes shifted to his and she shook her head microscopically in response to his unspoken question.

Han had thought they were being subtle enough. Apparently not. "I take it I'm under some suspicion here," Karrde continued, still studying his gla.s.s. "And not just from the Ishori and their allies. Have I pa.s.sed the test?"

Han looked at Leia again in time to see her lip twitch. "I'm sorry," she said. "For whatever it's worth, I had no doubts myself."

"Thank you." Karrde smiled slightly at Han and Lando. "I won't embarra.s.s either of you by asking if you shared the Councilor's confidence."

"I don't like taking anything for granted," Han told him. "It's not like you've ever sworn allegiance to the New Republic or anything."

Karrde inclined his head, "You're right, of course. My apologies."

He shifted his gaze to Lando. "All right, then. Let's begin with the a.s.sumption we're all hoping is true: namely, that you were the victim of a clever trick. First question: how was it done?"

"Shouldn't be all that hard," Han said. "Some facial surgery to make this guy look like Thrawn, then just add in some skin, hair, and eye coloring."

"Facial surgery usually leaves distinctive marks," Lando pointed out. "I know what to look for, and they weren't there. Besides, what about the voice?"

What about the voice?" Han asked. "Voices can be faked, too, you know. We did it ourselves with Threepio once, remember?"

"If the voice was really that accurate, it could have been a human replica droid," Karrde suggested. "Like the one Prince Xizor of Black Sun used to have."

Lando shook his head, "It wasn't just the voice, Karrde. Or the face, or anything else you could look at. It was-I don't know. There was a presence there, a hidden power and confidence I don't think any droid could fake. It was him. It bad to be."

"Could it have been a clone, then?" Karrde persisted, "Thrawn could easily have taken one or more of the cloning tanks out of Mount Tantiss before it was destroyed."

"I've been wondering about that, too," Leia said. "It could also explain where the clones Luke sensed at Iphigin come from."

"A clone of Thrawn would be dangerous enough," Lando agreed tightly. "But turn it around a minute. Couldn't it just as easily have been a clone sitting on the Chimaera's bridge at Bilbringi? What if Thrawn had antic.i.p.ated everything that was going to happen-everything-and made the necessary arrangements?"

Karrde swished his drink around a little more in his gla.s.s. "Then why did he sit back and let the Empire collapse when his leadership could very likely have saved it?" he asked.

"No. If he really was alive, he must have been incapacitated by his wound and gone off somewhere to heal."

"That's pretty much what he implied to Miatamia and me," Lando agreed. "He implied he'd been off recovering."

"Unless that's just what he wanted you to think," Leia warned. "Maybe he was simply off doing something else instead."

"Instead of protecting the Empire?" Han objected. "That doesn't make sense."

Abruptly Karrde set his gla.s.s down on the low table beside his chair. "All right, then,"

he said. "Let's a.s.sume the worst case: that that really was Thrawn you saw, and that he's back and out for blood. Why suddenly make an appearance now? And why just to you and Senator Miatamia instead of all of Coruscant?"

"Probably to create exactly the situation we're now in," Leia said. "The tension level in the Senate has jumped straight to the ceiling, with a tremendous amount of animosity and suspicion being focused on the Diamala. And, by extension, to everyone on that side of the Caamas issue."

"With a hint that Gavrisom might not want to resolve the crisis thrown in just to stir things up a little more," Lando added. "I hear some of the Senators are already complaining that he's been dragging his hooves on the whole question of reparations for the Caamasi."

Han grimaced. The Bothans' financial crisis . . "He's doing the best he can," be told Lando.

"Maybe," Lando said darkly. "But it strikes me that there are a lot of other ways Thrawn could have stirred up the government if that was all he wanted."

"What else could be want?" Karrde asked. "He surely wouldn't be foolish enough to take on the entire New Republic. Not with only eight sectors' worth of resources at his disposal."

"Maybe he's found a new superweapon the Emperor bad stashed away somewhere," Lando suggested ominously. "Another Death Star-a completed one this time-or maybe another Sun Crusher. Or something even more dangerous."

Karrde shook his bead. "Farfetched. If there was something like that out there, we surely would have heard of it by now."

"There's another point that needs to be made here," Leia-said. "You talked about him taking on the entire New Republic; but that's only if we could get the entire New Republic together to fight him. With the Caamas issue dividing us so strongly-and with the Empire so weak that most people don't even think of it as a threat-that's not a given anymore."

"If it ever was," Han said sourly. "There was never more than a small fraction of the galaxy actually fighting against the Empire."

"And never more than a small fraction of the Empire fighting against us," Lando pointed out, his eyes on Karrde. "I don't think we realized back then just how much of their energy was going to keeping all these little planetary vendettas and rivalries from blowing up in their faces. Now we're in that same situation, and in my opinion, we simply don't have the resources available to take on whatever Thrawn has planned."

"That of course depends on what he has planned," Karrde said. He was eyeing Lando closely, Han noticed suddenly. As closely as Lando was eyeing him. "So what do you suggest as your next move?"

"Our next move," Lando said, leaning on the word, "is to get this blasted Caamas issue out of the way so we can focus on Thrawn. And that means finding out exactly who the guilty Bothans were."

"That could be a problem," Karrde said, his voice studiously calm. "As far as I know, the Imperials have only two complete sets of records left-one at the Ubiqtorate base at Yaga Minor, the other at the current Imperial capital on Bastion."

"I don't suppose you'd happen to know where Bastion is," Leia said.

"I'm afraid not," Karrde said, glancing at her and then returning his attention to Lando.

"Bastion's proper name is one secret the Imperials have managed to keep."

"I wasn't necessarily talking about the Imperials," Lando said. "I was thinking someone else might have the records we're looking for."

Han blinked at Lando. Suddenly the other's insistence that he join them here tonight for their talk with Karrde was taking on a whole new dimension. "You mean that Karrde-?"

"I don't have the records, Calrissian," Karrde said. "If I did, I'd have offered them to you long before now."

"I know that," Lando said, his voice heavy with significance. "I was referring to a different source entirely."

"Who also probably doesn't have them," Karrde said coldly.

Lando's expression didn't change. "But who might."

For a pair of heartbeats the two men continued to gaze at each other. Han threw a frown at Leia, saw his same puzzlement mirrored in her own face. "Is there something here we need to know about?" he asked carefully.

"No," Lando said. "Or maybe I should say not yet."

"Leia, Calrissian and I need to have a short talk," Karrde said, getting abruptly to his feet. "Is there a place where we can have some privacy?"

"You can use the boys' bedroom," Leia said, pointing down the hallway. "Last door on the left."

"Thank you." Karrde gestured Lando to the hallway. "After you, Calrissian."

Shada had added an extra anchor to her safety line about two meters above her, on the a.s.sumption that if and when the Noghri got reinforcements up to the rooftop they might simply cut the line without bothering to haul her up first for the formality of questioning. Now, dangling a hundred meters above the ground, she eased her low-light eyepiece around the edge of the darkened window beside her and peered inside.

It was a child's bedroom-a children's bedroom, she corrected herself, spotting the second bed pushed against the far wall. Currently unoccupied; and since none of the three Solo children had followed their parents out of the airspeeder, it was reasonable to a.s.sume the room would stay that way.

Replacing the eyepiece into its jumpsuit pocket, she pulled out one of her three Zana M6W-9 molecular stilettos and extended its invisibly slender blade. Like a lightsaber, a molecular stiletto could cut through nearly anything. Unlike a lightsaber, though, the Zana's blade was incredibly delicate. A quick thrust against an a.s.sailant nearly always resulted in a broken blade-along with a dead a.s.sailant, of course-and even the most painstakingly careful cutting job was as likely as not to end up ruining t he tool.

Fortunately, the task facing her wasn't going to be large enough to push the odds. With most buildings on Coruscant she would have had to cut away an entire window to get inside, but the Orowood's designers had incorporated traditional Alderaanian swing-out panels to allow for free air flow. All she had to do was maneuver the stiletto blade between the panels and slice through the catch, and she would be in.

After, of course, finding and disabling whatever alarms the Noghri had installed.

That task turned out to be easier than she'd expected. The window carried only a single alarm, ranged to watch for incoming airspeeders. Apparently, it hadn't occurred to the Noghri that someone might be crazy enough to rappel down from the rooftop the way she had.

Though of course, to be fair, they had put a guard up there.

Two minutes later she was inside the darkened room, pulling the window closed behind her and listening bard. There were the usual soft mechanical noises of any modern dwelling, along with the m.u.f.fled sounds of conversation coming from elsewhere in the apartment. The words were impossible to decipher through the closed door, but she could hear at least four distinct voices.

She stood just inside the door, frowning with sudden indecision. She'd seen Solo and Organa Solo and their droid arrive in their T-81, and had spotted Calrissian waiting for them; but who was the fourth voice? Some random friend who'd happened to drop in? Hardly.

A business a.s.sociate of Calrissian's? Maybe, except that he'd been skulking alone in the shadows before the Solos arrived.

One thing was sure: given how furtive all three of them had been behaving outside, this was clearly a meeting they'd taken great pains to keep secret. A meeting she doubted any of them would appreciate being crashed by a total stranger.

Abruptly she tensed. The conversation had paused, and in its place was a new sound.

Footsteps. Heading her direction.

She was across the room in four quick strides, kneeling beside the bed by the far wall. It was a s.p.a.ceship-style bed, with storage compartments filling the s.p.a.ce beneath the mattress itself. But she hadn't planned on hiding under it anyway. Getting a grip on the storage handles, she pulled.

There must have been a lot of junk in those drawers: even with Mistryl-honed muscles behind the tug the bed moved barely twenty-five centimeters away from the wall. But it would be enough; and at any rate, with the footsteps already paused outside her door, it would have to do. Lunging up from her kneeling position, she half dived, half rolled across the bed and slid silently down on her side into the narrow gap.

She just made it. Even as her shoulder and hip settled against the cool floor the bedroom door slid open and two sets of footsteps came inside. The glow panel blazed on, and the door closed again.

"We had an agreement, Calrissian," an unidentified male voice said. Unidentified, yet definitely familiar. Shada searched her memory&mdash "Which I haven't broken," Calrissian said, his voice sounding a little defensive.

"Really?" the other voice asked coldly. "You've as good as told them there's a secret here. Do you think either of them needs more than that to gather their little shovels together and start digging?"

-and then abruptly the memory clicked. It was the smuggler chief, Talon Karrde.

"Frankly, Karrde, I think they've both got more important things to worry about right now," Calrissian said tartly. "And to be honest, I never understood why you were so obsessed about secrecy on this thing in the first place. So Jorj Car'das was once a compet.i.tor of yours-"

"Keep your voice down," Karrde growled. "I don't want the others hearing that name. And Car'das wasn't a compet.i.tor. He was something else entirely."

"Fine," Calrissian said. "Whatever. The point is that we can't afford the luxury of silly games anymore. Not with-"

"Silly games?" Karrde cut him off. "Calrissian, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know exactly what I'm talking about," Calrissian retorted. "I'm talking about the genius who came this close to taking down the whole New Republic ten years ago. Whatever Thrawn's got planned, he has to be counting on the Caamas issue to keep us divided."

Shada felt her breath catch in her throat. Whatever Thrawn had planned? But Thrawn was dead.

Wasn't he?

"Thank you for the historical review," Karrde said. "I was there, if you'll remember.

Let's not act like the whole New Republic's on the edge of desperation and collapse, though, all right?"

"Are you sure we're not?" Calrissian countered. "After all this time, do you really think Thrawn would have shown himself if he wasn't ready to pounce?"

"If he intends to pounce," Karrde argued. "There are many other things he could be planning besides an overt attack."