“Good afternoon, Admiral,” Karrde nodded in greeting, taking it in stride. “This is an unexpected honor. May I ask the purpose of your call?”
“Part of it I’m sure you’ve already guessed,” Thrawn told him. “We find ourselves in need of more ysalamiri, and would like your permission to harvest some more of them.”
“Certainly,” Karrde said, a funny feeling starting to tug at the back of his mind. There was something strange about Thrawn’s posture…and the Imperials hardly needed his permission to come pull ysalamiri off their trees. “If I may say so, you seem to be running through them rather quickly. Are you having trouble keeping them alive?”
Thrawn raised an eyebrow in polite surprise. “None of them has died, Captain. We simply need more of them.” —Heir to the Empire
----------------------------------------------------
“Our supply lines continue to be harassed by the attacks of Grand Admiral Thrawn,” Admiral Ackbar was saying, pointing on the holographic map hovering a couple inches over the table. “Thirty-six attacks in the past week alone: that’s a thirty-three percent increase from the week before, and a seventy-one percent increase from the week before that. We have not yet seen the major thrust of his offensive, but it is clear the Empire is building up to its primary campaign,” he concluded.
Leia studied the map, doing her best to make sense of it. She wasn’t nearly as good at reading these things as Ackbar was. “How soon, Admiral?” Mon Mothma asked quietly from the seat beside Leia.
Ackbar gave the Mon Calamari equivalent of a shrug. “Difficult to say at this point. At the rate he’s going, I would anticipate Thrawn’s full offensive will begin somewhere between two and four weeks from now.”
“Two weeks,” Mon Mothma repeated, the lines on her face looking even deeper than usual. “You’re certain?”
“Based on our analysis so far,” Ackbar confirmed. He paused. “Of course, I haven’t had as long to review the data as I would have liked.”
Leia cast a sideways look down the table, where Councilor Fey’lya sat silent and alone at the far end. It had only been a few weeks since Fey’lya’s embarrassing political defeat during the Katana skirmish; and even though Ackbar had been cleared of his false accusations two days later—thanks in no small part to the work of that slicer, Ghent—the admiral was understandably still feeling a little rankled.
But dwelling on the past wouldn’t get them anywhere now. “Where do you think the main thrust will occur?” she asked, trying to bring him back to the matter at hand.
Ackbar looked at his aide. “We’re not sure at this point,” Commander Sesfan said. “Conventional wisdom suggests Mrisst will be his most likely target.”
“Mrisst?” Admiral Drayson spoke up, the doubt evident in his voice. “Are you certain? Mrisst’s only real asset is its university. I don’t see what possible military value such a world would hold.”
“Military value, no,” Sesfan agreed, “but Mrisst is sufficiently close to Coruscant to be of considerable strategic value. From Mrisst the Empire would have a significant forward base from which to launch an attack against us.”
“Or it could be used as a feint,” Ackbar added. “Mrisst’s strategic position would require us to send a considerable portion of the sector fleet to defend it, leaving Coruscant itself vulnerable to attack.”
“I see,” Mon Mothma said, and those lines started getting a little deeper. “Are there any other possibilities?”
“We’ve also identified the Dolomar and Farrfin systems as likely targets for a first strike.” Sesfan sighed. “Of course, these are all guesswork. Thrawn may just as likely hit someplace we haven’t even considered.”
“What about these clones of his?” Drayson asked. “It seems to me they’re the real threat. Have we made any progress on figuring out where he’s getting them?”
“I have asked Colonel Derlin to put together a complete plan for locating and eliminating Thrawn’s cloning facility,” Ackbar said. “He’s still in the process of compiling it.”
And even once he finished, it would take weeks—if not months—to find wherever Thrawn was hiding his cloning tanks. “I think we need to stay focused on the most immediate issue for the time being,” Leia said, “namely, preparing our frontline defenses for whenever Thrawn’s main assault comes.”
“I agree,” Ackbar said. He looked pointedly at the handful of empty chairs around the table. “Perhaps before we go further we should wait until everyone arrives?”
“If you’re referring to General Bel Iblis, he won’t be attending,” Mon Mothma responded quickly. A little too quickly, in Leia’s opinion. “Garm is currently out on an assignment in the Borderland Regions, at my request.”
“His expertise could most certainly be useful here,” Ackbar pointed out, “but I wasn’t talking about the General. I was referring to Councilor Organa Solo’s brother and husband. Shouldn’t they be in this meeting, too?”
Leia hesitated, her eyes lingering on Fey‘lya; but she brushed her concerns aside. Surely no one here was associated with Delta Source. “They’d be here if they could, Admiral,” she said, “but right now Han and Luke are following up on an assignment of their own.”
“I don’t recall seeing anything about that in the daily briefings,” Drayson said.
“It’s more of a personal assignment,” Leia explained nebulously, choosing her words carefully. Just because no one here was part of Delta Source didn’t mean she should share any more information than necessary. “Don’t worry, I expect them back in a couple days.”
“Then we will wish them luck,” Mon Mothma said; but Leia could sense the other woman studying her carefully. Clearly she didn’t like being kept in the dark any more than Drayson did. “In the meantime, we have our own matters to attend to. I believe we were discussing the Mrisst response plan. Admiral: proceed.”
* * *
“I can see them, all right,” Han confirmed, shifting his position to get a better grip on the macrobinoculars. “I make out five shuttles, plus at least thirty techs. It’s definitely a party.”
Lying beside Han in the underbrush, Luke did a scan of his own at the scene before them. Of course, without the macrobinoculars he couldn’t see much. “Five shuttles?” he repeated. “You’re sure?”
“I know how to count, kid,” Han reminded him.
Luke considered. “Mara said there were only two shuttles the first time.”
“Then I guess they’re stepping things up,” Han said. “Or else Mara remembered wrong.”
“Maybe,” Luke allowed doubtfully. That wasn’t the Mara he knew: the one that could go two days without sleep and still blast a vornskr off his back. Dimly Luke thought back to that first trek across Myrkr, and the days spent avoiding the local predators and, later, Imperial patrols. At the time, he’d silently promised himself he’d never return.
But the universe still had ways of playing with him. “So what’s the plan?” he asked Han, peering through the trees at the distant shapes of the Imperial techs moving among the Myrkr foliage.
“We crash the party, that’s what,” Han said as he ran the macrobinoculars over the group again. “That shuttle closest to the right—it looks like they’re almost finished loading their ysalamiri. That’s the one we’ll try.”
It had been Han’s idea—well, Han’s idea combined with something Ghent had said. According to Ghent Thrawn had visited Myrkr on at least two prior occasions, to collect some of those ysalamiri creatures for the Chimaera. But it was Han who was the one to openly wonder whether the Empire would ever be coming back to collect more. It was a possibility too intriguing to pass up.
Fortunately the two of them hadn’t had to wait long: it was on their third day on Myrkr, otherwise spent keeping a low profile in the cantinas of Hyllyard City, that the Star Destroyer finally showed up. “Not the Chimaera,” Han had guessed, staring up at the approaching shape with his macrobinoculars. That was hardly a surprise: there were plenty of ships in the Imperial fleet, and it had probably been too much to hope Thrawn would come himself. But it was a Star Destroyer, and that meant it was time for action.
“Come on, let’s get going,” Han said, bringing Luke back to the present. He pushed himself up, brushing the leaves off his shirt with his free hand. “We better circle back to the speeder bikes first and grab the charges.”
“Sounds good,” Luke said, starting to push himself up as well. He paused. “And I think we better hurry,” he added, listening closely. “It sounds like a pack of vornskrs has started taking an interest in all this activity in their forest.”
Han’s hand dropped almost subconsciously to his blaster. “You sure?”
“Definitely,” Luke nodded. He was sure, all right: in the distance he could just make out the distinctive cackle/purr. “I’d remember those sounds anywhere.”
“Terrific,” Han said, checking the trees around them. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any read on how close?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
But Luke shook his head. Out here, in the middle of the ysalamiri-infested forest, his Jedi senses were as dark as they’d been the first time. “Well, it would have been nice, anyway,” Han said with a shrug. “Let’s get moving.”
It was a quick five-minute jog back to where they’d hidden the speeder bikes in the brush. While Han dropped off his binoculars and grabbed the backpacks Luke cast another look out into the forest. Those cackle/purr combinations were definitely getting louder, he realized, but Luke couldn’t see anything out there yet. They must still be several hundred meters away. “Ready?” Han asked, coming up beside him.
“Ready,” Luke confirmed, taking the proffered pack and slinging it over his shoulders. “It should be back this way.”
Together they started on a long circle around the Imperial encampment, brushing past the foliage and overhanging vines as Han angled for an approach that would bring them up along the camp’s southern edge. As they went it was hard for Luke not to think about that last journey through the Myrkr forest, with Artoo dragging behind him and Mara bringing up the rear; half-wondering when she would finally decide it would just be easier to kill the two of them and be done with it. But she hadn’t, and they’d all ended up all right. Mostly.
As they got closer Luke began to pick up a new sound, still distant and indistinct through the trees: the modulated chatter of Imperial stormtroopers. “You sure they won’t have set up a perimeter?” Han asked pointedly.
“No,” Luke admitted. “But if what Mara told me is accurate, the metallic content of the trees should mess up any sensor readings. And I haven’t seen any patrols yet.”
A minute later they could begin to see the rising wings of the nearest shuttle, just sticking up out over the treetops. Luke started to scan for any nearby life-signs with the Force, before remembering how useless it would be. Fortunately Han was already on top of it. “Hold on a sec,” he said, waving his hand. He peered between the trees ahead. “I can spot at least two stormtroopers. Just to the left of that cluster of vines—see ‘em?”
Luke came up behind him. “I see them,” he said, peering over Han’s shoulder. “Should we try the next shuttle?”
“We could,” Han said doubtfully. “No reason to think it won’t have a guard too, though. Wait…you hear that?”
It took Luke a moment. “Is that blaster fire?”
“Sure sounds like it,” Han nodded. “Coming from back the way we just came. My guess is your vornskr pals finally found the camp.” He leaned in closer towards the clearing. “Those troopers hear it too. See?”
Luke saw, all right. The two stormtroopers had started conferring with each other, and even though Luke couldn’t make out what they were saying he could definitely hear the urgency in their voices. A moment later the two of them hurried off towards the west, their blaster rifles out and ready. “I don’t think we’re going to get a better opening than this,” Luke observed.
“No argument here.” Han cast one more look around the forest. “Okay, we’re clear. Go.”
Doing their best to stay low, the two of them jogged through the trees towards the shuttle. Han had them pull up just short, ducking behind the nearest tree trunk and checking the clearing. But other than a couple scattered crates there didn’t appear to be anyone nearby. “Looks clear,” he whispered back to Luke. “Stay close, kid.”
Luke nodded, following him past the trees and out the forest canopy into the small clearing the Imperials had made. Han had been right, he saw: no fewer than five shuttles were parked in the gaps between the trees, their ramps down as gray-clad service techs scurried back and forth from the shuttles to the forest. On the far side Luke could see a couple people doing something to one of the tree branches—probably in the process of removing its ysalamiri, he realized. As for Han and Luke’s little part of the woods…with the exception of a few scattered packing crates, it was empty and quiet for the moment.
Luke’s thoughts were interrupted as the air was punctuated once again with the distant sound of blaster shots, coming away from somewhere on their left. “It’s vornskrs, all right,” Luke said. He couldn’t see anything—whatever was going on must be happening deep in the forest—but he could certainly hear the angry roars that were starting to join the cacophony of blaster fire.
“Beats Ewoks for a distraction, anyway,” Han said, pulling up behind the nearest stack of crates. “Looks like most of the stormtroopers are out in the forest trying to clean up that mess. We should be able to make it to the shuttle’s ramp before anyone notices.”
Luke tried reaching out with the Force a second time, hoping to get a read on anybody in the shuttle. But even out of the forest, the ysalamiri effect still blocked his senses. “Then let’s go,” he said, trying to ignore the distinct feeling they were going in blind. This was how Han usually worked, anyway. “I’m right behind you.”
Han nodded, then ducking low sprinted across the clearing towards the waiting ramp. Luke followed after, half-expecting to hear an angry shout or a blaster shot to greet them. But they made it without incident, reaching the foot of the ramp and finally scrambling up inside. As Luke reached the top he saw Han already had his blaster out, scanning the dark corners for any sign of a pilot or other personnel. But the shuttle interior, too, was empty.
Han holstered his blaster and led them down into the cargo hold, where several rows of crates had already been stacked. Past the cargo hold he found an unassuming row of storage lockers against the far wall, well-hidden from any potentially prying eyes that might wander back. The lockers were, of course, locked; but Han’s hot-wiring skills were, if not quite legendary, at least well-suited to the challenge. It took him only half-a-minute to get one sliced and open. “Voila,” he beamed, before casting a look inside. “Hmm. Looks cozy, anyway.”
“Reminds me of those smuggling compartments on the Falcon,” Luke agreed, giving the locker a scan of his own. It would be cramped, but there should be enough room for the both of them.
“Or that storage shed Karrde kept you holed up in,” Han added, replacing the locker’s access panel as best he could. Luke knew it wouldn’t fool a really close inspection, but it would have to do. “Maybe when we’re done here you can pay it a visit.”
Luke didn‘t answer, his attention on the ramp behind them. Was it his imagination, or was that the sound of footsteps starting to come up? “Come on, let’s get settled in,” he suggested, choosing a spot and sitting down. “It’s going to be a long wait.”
* * *
The wait, it turned out, wasn’t as long as he’d expected. It was thirty minutes according to the chronometer on Han’s wrist when they finally heard the last footsteps on the ramp and the muffled chatter of the pilot heading for the cockpit. A moment later came the grinding of servomotors as the entry ramp was raised and the ship sealed shut. “Here we go again,” Han said ominously.
He was cut off by a rising whine as the pilot activated the shuttle’s repulsorlifts, and with a slight rumble of the deck beneath them the shuttle took off. “How long do you think it will take them to reach the ship?” Luke asked, shifting into a better position in his corner.
Han shrugged in the locker’s dim light. “My guess is twenty minutes from take-off to touch-down,” he said. “The question is, how long will it take them to unload everything?”
“It should be a couple hours,” Luke told him, “at least, if they’re anything like the crews they had on the Chimaera a few weeks back.”
“Oh. Right,” Han said, and Luke knew he’d forgotten about his and Mara’s little rescue mission. “Well, we won’t need nearly that much time. I say twenty-five minutes tops to get down to the main reactor, ten minutes to plant the charges, and another twenty-five to get back. Factor in an additional five for any unforeseen problems, and we should be done in just over an hour. Listen,” he added, placing an ear against the outer bulkhead. “Sounds like we’re already entering the upper atmosphere.”
Luke nodded distantly. He’d noticed it too; but he’d suddenly noticed something else. A sensation had filled him, an awareness he hadn’t experienced in three days.
The Force.
Luke took a breath, reached out gently to touch it with his mind. It felt good, like a reunion with an old friend, or being able to see after being trapped in the dark for a long time.
And it meant Han was right. On their last trip they’d determined the planet’s ysalamiri effect ended roughly twelve kilometers above the planet. They were indeed entering the upper atmosphere.
“We back online?” Han interrupted into his thoughts.
Luke nodded slowly. “Good,” the other said, leaning away from the bulkhead. “Don’t take this the wrong way, kid, but without the Force you’re not a whole lot of good in a fight.”
“No offense taken,” Luke assured him, using the Force to scan the area around them. Of course, stuck in a shuttle several kilometers above a planet, there wasn’t a whole lot for him to sense at the moment. “Let’s just hope they haven’t gotten a chance to install any ysalamiri in that Star Destroyer’s hangar areas yet.”
“You said you didn’t encounter any on the Chimaera,” Han pointed out, but his mood seemed pensive to Luke. “What do you suppose they want with this stuff, anyway?”
Luke frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean this is a lot of ysalamiri,” Han said. “There must be thousands of these things they’re bringing back. If they‘re not putting them on their warships, what are they doing with them?”
“I don’t know,” Luke admitted. It was a question that had crossed his mind, too. “But that’s not our concern right now,” he reminded Han, an old adage ringing in his head. This one a long time have I watched, Yoda’s words echoed. All his life has he looked away to the future, to the horizon…never his mind on where he was, hmm? What he was doing! “Our concern is getting on that Star Destroyer, planting the charges, and then getting off. We’ll worry about those other questions later.”
He sensed more than saw Han’s grim nod. Fingering the lightsaber hanging from his belt, Luke settled in to wait.
No comments:
Post a Comment