Ten years, the first month, and the thirty-third day after the Battle of Yavin…
Or the forty-fifth year, the first month, and the thirty-third day after the Great ReSynchronization.
(Eight months and eighteen days since the incident).
"The situation is stabilizing."
Those were Mon Mothma's first words after the lengthy negotiations with the Lantillian government concluded.
The Alliance's senior leadership meeting was held in an exceptionally "tight circle."
Only those whom the Head of State considered her inner circle were present.
Bel Iblis, commander of the Alliance Armed Forces.
And Leia, who had suddenly become the foreign minister of the young state—for herself, at least.
Her responsibilities also included intelligence work.
More precisely, the meager portion of it the Alliance possessed.
To be entirely accurate, that amounted to about a hundred mid-level agents, Kyle Katarn and his partner, and Talon Karrde with his network of informants.
Lando…
After what happened on Lianna, Calrissian had grown quiet, pensive, and no longer eager to work closely with "The Claw" or the Solo couple.
Han said Calrissian was still trying to find himself a new business, having finally decided to leave his military and espionage career—thrust upon him after joining the Rebel Alliance years ago—firmly in the past.
"The Lantillian government supports us," Mon Mothma continued. "We've signed an alliance treaty, and now we can count on them both militarily and economically."
"Sounds good," Bel Iblis declared. "Orinda hasn't stopped trying to take Lantilles, despite their losses."
"I don't think they'll keep banging their heads against the wall much longer," Leia said doubtfully. "They'll soon realize we have no interdictors and simply bypass Lantilles."
A sly smile appeared on the Corellian's face.
"Not everything is as it seems," he said. "We do have cruisers equipped with gravity-well generators."
"I thought those stayed with the New Republic," Leia frowned. "Or were captured by Thrawn at Sluis Van, Sullust…"
"We lost many ships, but not all," Bel Iblis stated. "You remember how the Alliance operated without Imperial-made interdictors on our side, don't you?"
"We had a few outdated Corellian CC-7700 frigates and Loronar cruisers fitted with gravity-well generators," Leia nodded. "But they were all scrapped for metal when we took Coruscant and the fleet's situation improved."
"Yes, they were sent to the breakers," Bel Iblis confirmed. "Most were destroyed, but we managed to recover some. I never thought I'd be grateful for the quiet hoarding of our rear-echelon services, but thanks to them selling a few of those ships on the side, we're not defenseless. We located a full ten of them on the black market and acquired them. The Lantillians will bring them up to standard, and the Mon Calamari have promised to begin work on their own interdictor design. Now that we have Lianna, the production facilities for gravity-well generators won't make it difficult to create something suitable for fleet needs."
"Ten ships to secure hundreds of sectors that have joined us?" Leia couldn't restrain her skepticism. "Aren't you being a little too optimistic, General? As far as I recall, Mon said our budget is extremely limited…"
"Every day we gain more and more allies," Mon Mothma said. "Congress doesn't know yet, but the Tion Hegemony has approached us with an alliance proposal. They intend to become part of the Alliance and offer all the assistance they can provide—including the financial support we so desperately need."
"Well, I'll be…" was all Leia could manage. "This isn't a joke?"
"Not in the slightest," Bel Iblis replied, though his tone was far less encouraging than Mon Mothma's. "They're ready to become part of us. But I think you've already guessed the conditions."
A thousand possibilities flashed through Leia's mind…
"They want us to resolve their historical grievances," the Head of the Alliance prompted.
Now it was clear why Bel Iblis wasn't as optimistic as the Chandrilan.
The Tion Hegemony had once encompassed vast territories and, tens of thousands of years ago, had been the heart of Xim the Despot's empire—a bloody, power-hungry conqueror immortalized in legend.
But that was extremely ancient history.
By the time of the Old Republic's collapse, the Hegemony was experiencing the same crises as the Republic, only on a local scale.
They had supported the Confederacy of Independent Systems during the Clone Wars, and Count Dooku, the Separatist leader, had shown such favor to these regions that he established his very first of many headquarters on Raxus Prime.
After coming to power, the Emperor cruelly retaliated against the aristocratic House of Tion, which ruled the Hegemony, for supporting Count Dooku.
The Empire redrew the Hegemony's map, carving out the Allied Tion sector—currently governed by Moff Gronn—and then granting "independence" to the Cronese Mandate and the Indrexu and Keldrath sectors.
The remaining portion of the Tion Hegemony was granted nominal independence, which was considered humiliating in noble circles.
Sectors: Tion Hegemony, Allied Tion, Cronese Mandate, Indrexu, Keldrath, and the Thanium Worlds.
Leia remembered how often her father, Bail Organa, had mused that one day House Tion would side with the Rebel Alliance, seeking revenge against Palpatine for the humiliations and insults inflicted upon them.
Given that territorial redistribution wasn't enough for the Emperor, he actively encouraged further degradation of House Tion.
The newly "independent" sectors excelled at this, along with the Noble Houses of Tapani—the Emperor's loyal lapdogs in galactic aristocratic circles.
And so it happened: House Tion sheltered Rebels on its territory, which became evident shortly after the Battle of Turkana.
But that was preceded by a series of "tragic accidents" that not everyone believed.
And even fewer sentients knew the true state of affairs.
"The Hegemony wants to annex Allied Tion, the Cronese Mandate, and the Indrexu and Keldrath sectors?" Leia clarified, trying to keep her voice steady and her face from betraying the near-panic rising within her.
"House Tion hasn't specified its intentions," Bel Iblis said. "But in my personal opinion, they also want Lianna and the Thanium Worlds, which remain independent."
"And now this is no longer just a 'formal secession from the New Republic,'" Mon Mothma warned. "The Thanium Worlds have officially declared they will join no state and will pursue an independent policy. We had hoped they would join us… but things haven't gone according to plan."
"I think the Thaniumites are disappointed in our military strength," Bel Iblis said. "We stationed task forces on their territory to strike at Thrawn, and in the end he masterfully crushed them all—and pulled off his own maneuver right under our noses, seizing Lianna's assets."
"I don't think the galaxy believes it was Thrawn's operation," Leia said. "Journalists are still savoring the Lusankya's involvement and mocking the New Republic, saying they repaired a Super Star Destroyer, took it into one battle, and lost it after Thrawn declared open season on Imperial ships."
"Really?" Mon asked, surprised.
"Exactly," Leia nodded. "Questions are growing sharper toward Bothawui about where the Lusankya is and why it isn't counterattacking Imperial forces. Fey'lya is silent and can't produce a plausible explanation. Sharp-tongued journalists have already decided for him that the ship was either captured or destroyed by Thrawn while hunting 'stolen Liannan treasures.'"
"I wish that were true," Bel Iblis grumbled. "We know the Lusankya is with Thrawn…"
"Let's return to the topic at hand," Mon Mothma insisted, glancing at the former princess. "Leia, you'll have to meet with House Tion representatives to hear their conditions for joining the Alliance firsthand."
"We need to curb their appetites as much as possible if they intend to use our hands to seize everything we suspect," Bel Iblis said. "We know for certain that the Cronese Mandate and Allied Tion are pro-Imperial territories. But they also possess significant fleets. Right now we can't simply divert part of our forces to start a war in our rear…"
"Nor can we allow hostile sectors on our doorstep," Mon Mothma warned. "It's possible House Tion will be satisfied with opposition only to the Cronese Mandate and Allied Tion, which pose the greatest immediate threat to us."
"Indrexu and Keldrath lack significant military power individually, but united they could form a substantial force and create serious problems," Bel Iblis cautioned.
"As far as I know, those sectors maintain neutrality in the war," Leia recalled. "It's possible they'll want to join the Tion Hegemony themselves if we crush the stronger enemies—Allied Tion and the Cronese Mandate."
"Possibly," Mon Mothma agreed.
"I wouldn't count on it," Bel Iblis warned. "We alone can't defeat those two sectors' forces quickly."
"Kyle Katarn and Jan Ors reported that Allied Tion is significantly weakened," Leia said. "Their main forces were sent to Lianna during Thrawn's and the Lusankya's attack and vanished without a trace. From what they gathered in the Allied Tion worlds, Moff Gronn lost four-fifths of his armed forces. Ten Star Destroyers with full crews."
"And the stormtroopers?" Bel Iblis perked up.
"Seven legions," Leia confirmed. "Gone without a trace along with the destroyers."
"They were probably destroyed," Mon Mothma suggested.
"Or lured into an ambush to emerge the moment enemy ships appear in the sector," Bel Iblis said. "Either way, Leia, I ask you to thoroughly investigate this. Allied Tion and the Cronese Mandate are the two greatest threats in our rear."
"I'll speak with Karrde before departing to meet House Tion," Leia informed them. "And… what about negotiations with the New Republic? Together we'd be far better equipped to withstand Imperial attacks."
"Fey'lya received my request for talks," Mon Mothma explained. "But he ignored it."
"Our appearance at Lantilles allowed him to withdraw the Second Fleet and regroup," Bel Iblis added. "I'm certain that while the situation isn't critical, he won't deal with us, letting us take hits on some fronts so he can shift reserves to the most dangerous ones."
"So we're on our own," Leia sighed.
"It appears so," the Corellian agreed. "We have plenty of allies, but they're spread across a vast territory. We need time and resolution of several internal issues and tension points to persuade them to place even part of their forces under our operational command. Right now we effectively have two groups outside the Alliance—Admiral Eclipse's squadrons and General Rahm Kota's. Sullust is fortifying; Kota understands the Empire won't leave SoroSuub alone until it either seizes it or suffers losses severe enough to halt further advance. Eclipse successfully repelled Moff Getelles's counterattack attempts on Koensayr and has entrenched in the system. Once we build sufficient strength, we'll counterattack Loronar, drive Getelles off the planet, and deprive him of Loronar Corporation support."
"Wouldn't it be wiser to evacuate all necessary equipment from Koensayr and deliver it to Lianna?" Leia asked. "Both Koensayr and Loronar lie on the invasion path of the Pentastar Alignment and Imperial Space. You said their goal might be Denon, which is beyond Loronar and Koensayr…"
"We work with the realities we have," Mon Mothma said, not hiding her sadness. "We've finally reached an agreement with Koensayr Manufacturing leadership on purchasing their bombers and are working to convince them to relocate from their homeworld. But it's not a simple process."
"If they refuse, any further Imperial advance along the Hydian Way and Corellian Run will put Koensayr in danger!" Leia exclaimed. "Don't the local governments understand this?"
"They do," Bel Iblis replied grimly. "All too well. And they have eyes. They're nodding toward nearby planets like Kelada and Chasin, which the Dominion has turned into fortress worlds ringed with dozens of defense stations and planetary defense systems."
"As they did with Makem Te, Trogana, Columex, Garos," Mon Mothma continued. "And every planet outside the Dominion. Some, like Makem Te, Columex, Trogana, and Garos IV, are practically under our noses, but until we resolve the Tion Cluster problem, occupying those planets makes no sense—neither militarily nor politically. Thanks to Thrawn stealing a massive number of starships from us, Pellaeon has been able to station not only defensive forces but entire battle fleets at each planet to counter any invasion force we might send."
"Unfortunately, we lack the financial and military resources to provide Koensayr with impenetrable defense at present," Bel Iblis sighed. "Joining the Tion Hegemony to the Alliance may give us the necessary financial and other strength to defend Koensayr and purchase required equipment. That's why your mission, Leia, is so critical to the Alliance's continued existence."
"I understand," the Alderaanian pressed her lips together. "I'll do everything I can. When do I need to depart?"
"As soon as possible," Mon Mothma said.
"I'll tell Han to prepare the Galactic Voyager," the former princess said.
"I'm afraid General Solo must remain at my disposal," Bel Iblis declared. "As must his flagship. Holding Lantilles and Lianna is our top priority right now. We have a limited number of MC90s and talented commanders."
"Especially since E-wing production is now underway on Lianna," Mon Mothma added. "Though Philip Santhe died under mysterious circumstances, his death has benefited the Alliance cause and allowed us to begin rebuilding our industrial and military base on the planet using what remained after Thrawn's raid. General Solo, leading his small squadron, will be transferred there to secure the system until we can obtain additional forces and protect the planet from possible provocations and enemy operations. Besides, traveling to diplomatic negotiations aboard a warship… that's not the best idea, Leia. There was already such a precedent in your career when you turned the Star Destroyer Rebel Dream into a foreign ministry. Unfortunately, we cannot simply hand over one of our most powerful star cruisers for diplomatic travel needs."
In other words, she would have to travel—
"I understand," Leia repeated. "I'll take Chewie and the Falcon. The Perlemian Trade Route is safe enough to travel alone. A simple freighter shouldn't attract undue attention from forces hostile to us."
"May the great Force be with you," Mon Mothma said.
Leia bowed silently and left the compartment of Bel Iblis's flagship where the meeting had taken place.
Heading to her shuttle, the Alliance foreign minister thought bitterly that the Alliance's interests were increasingly diverging from her family's.
Great Force, Luke, where are you when you're needed most?
***
The bridge lights flickered, and the colorful vortex of hyperspace in the viewports began to fade.
But it did not remain the usual star-strewn cosmos for long.
When the colors vanished, the Chimaera spent only one hour surrounded by stars.
Then came absolute darkness.
And complete blindness.
Captain Tschel stared for a long time through the Chimaera's viewport into the interstellar void, struggling with an almost forgotten sense of vulnerability.
Having a Star Destroyer under a cloaking shield rendered it completely blind and deaf.
No sane person could imagine a worse position for a combat vessel.
"Coordinates match; commencing course correction," the helmsman reported to the ship's commander.
"Proceed," Tschel ordered, stepping toward the pit to oversee the next stage of the delicate approach.
But there was another side to the coin—the invisibility shield reliably concealed them from enemies.
Even so, the captain would have preferred, without bargaining, to see everything happening around them.
He had seen Grand Admiral Thrawn use hybridium-based cloaking shields for his purposes many times, but always with other ships, crews, and targets.
Now it was the Chimaera's turn.
"Flight deck reports," came the voice of the flight control officer. "Scout craft have launched. Observer droids loaded; engineers are preparing data transmission cables."
"Understood," Tschel said, stepping away from the pit and heading toward the central dais where Grand Admiral Thrawn sat.
Approaching the Supreme Commander, Captain Tschel watched the Chimaera's bow disappear, swallowed by a scanner- and signal-impermeable bubble of hybridium cloaking field.
Yet instinctively he tried to take in as much of the starfield as possible.
The last sparks of connection to the real world before the entire ship plunged into darkness and remained there for an unknown duration.
How long exactly was anyone's guess.
Grand Admiral Thrawn did not share his plans until the appointed time.
The captain caught the flash of one scout's engines launching from the main hangar.
Then the scout crossed the invisibility boundary and vanished from sight.
Only the thin optical cable trailing behind it indicated the Dominion ARC-170 hadn't disappeared into the abyss of impenetrable darkness.
Tschel took a breath, still trying to comprehend what in the nine hells the grand admiral, he himself, and everyone else were doing here.
They had arrived at the Dominion's borders, on one of the busiest routes near the outskirts of the Korva sector, and were hiding under a cloaking shield in the midst of blackness that held only death.
It was supposed to be death for enemies, not the Chimaera's crew.
Here, billions of standard kilometers from any life, they seemed the complete opposite.
Tschel vainly tried to understand why a flagship Star Destroyer was needed on the remotest outskirts of the Dominion's northeastern borders.
Why had they come here in complete secrecy from everyone, including Moff Nivers, appointed sectoral governor?
And where, for Hutt's sake, were the regular fleet patrols if the Supreme Commander himself was on watch here?
But one could look at it another way: how many of Grand Admiral Thrawn's plans had been comprehensible?
Almost all had once seemed utter nonsense to the overwhelming majority of those who served under him.
Many had been wrong—very many…
Thrawn's scattered strikes against the New Republic had ultimately culminated in a grand victory, giving the Dominion enough ships for an entire sectoral fleet by Imperial standards—and that was only in quantity.
In quality…
Several hundred Star Destroyers were a force capable of reducing Imperial Space, the Pentastar Alignment, and even the New Republic to dust in an instant.
If only they were fully crewed…
Tschel resolutely banished the gloom.
One must not doubt Grand Admiral Thrawn's actions.
What seemed nonsense was actually part of something greater, beyond allies' comprehension.
And enemies'.
Often the latter (and sometimes the former) only began to see the light when those plans were set in motion and their true genius was felt by the opponent…
Such were the instructions Vice Admiral Pellaeon had given him before handing over the captain's insignia.
And sympathetically advised him to remain true to himself, continuing to probe with a curious mind everything he heard, saw, and noticed in the grand admiral's designs while commanding his flagship Star Destroyer.
According to Pellaeon, even the fact that Thrawn, after testing the Super Star Destroyer Guardian in battle, returned to the Chimaera was part of some plan.
A plan within a plan, with another plan on top.
And inside the smallest plan, yet another plan.
It was bewildering, alarming, disorienting, and awe-inspiring all at once.
His attention was drawn to movement on the left.
He turned and saw another scout pass through the invisibility shield and alter course to remain within its coverage.
So that was it—the finale.
In a couple of minutes the Chimaera would drop to gravity anchor under the cloak of invisibility.
Only drone scouts and ARC-170s would be able to monitor events beyond the cloaking field.
"I'm listening, Captain Tschel," the grand admiral said as the young captain drew level with his chair.
"We're nearly at the point, sir," the flagship commander reported. "Minor course correction and we'll be in position. End of the journey."
Thrawn turned his head toward him, and Tschel felt a fiery gaze pierce him through.
Memories stirred of when he (and half the Chimaera's crew) had nearly hysterics when Thrawn supposedly "died" in his shuttle's destruction during the battle with pirates near Lok.
He wondered if that was why the grand admiral hadn't played his "death at Sluis Van" further?
Realized it would completely demoralize the Dominion's troops?
"Our journey is only beginning, Captain," the grand admiral remarked softly. "But first we must wait—and the duration of that wait is impossible to predict."
"Yes, sir," Tschel replied without a tremor.
He stared at the blackness creeping over the Chimaera and couldn't accept the obvious.
Why in the nine hells did a flagship need to hide under cloaking near one of the ryllonium-packed asteroids?
Were there really no other ways to conceal a ship from detection?
And from whom were they hiding on the borders?
"Patience, Captain," the grand admiral said as if reading his thoughts, stroking the utterly shameless ysalamir dozing at such a critical moment, curled on the Supreme Commander's lap. "Soon you will understand everything. And be ready for docking."
"I hope I do," Tschel thought as the wall beyond which the Chimaera's hull disappeared drew closer to the Star Destroyer's superstructure, propelled by its maneuvering engines.
"All compartments—listen up!" Tschel barked into the comlink. "Prepare to drop to gravity anchor!"
The cloak of invisibility penetrated the bridge, and at that moment Tschel was ready to be crushed, torn apart, flung back, shredded to pieces, but…
Nothing happened.
Nor could it—everyone who had previously been under a cloaking field in various situations had survived.
Oddly enough.
"Commence docking, Captain," Grand Admiral Thrawn ordered.
Tschel looked at the sentient beside him.
But we're dropping to anchor?
Then he realized his eyes had caught flickering lights from the Chimaera's bow.
"That doesn't look like an asteroid, sir," he forced out, staring at the massive space station beside which the Star Destroyer now lay.
"Well observed, Captain," Thrawn said. "This is a Golan II border station coordinating our defensive structures in this part of the Dominion."
In absolute isolation from hyperspace routes.
How to make sense of that?
"I thought the Asteroid-II defenses were placed on hyperspace lanes leading to the Dominion," Tschel ventured. "But this…"
"Backwater?" Thrawn guessed the term. "Yes, this is an extremely remote section of space from the Hydian Way and its branches. You're absolutely right—the Asteroid-II line, as well as defense stations and gravity-well installations, are primarily positioned along hyperspace routes into the Dominion. From that perspective, everything is correct."
"A route not listed in the astrogation registry runs here!" Tschel realized.
"A smuggler's path," Thrawn nodded. "The closest one leading from the northern end of the Hydian Way into the Korva sector. And our outpost is here."
"Understood, sir," Tschel lied.
Not only was the Dominion's surrounding minefield map less accurate and less known to all regular fleet commanders than he'd thought, but the Chimaera's presence here was clearly deliberate.
Why was Thrawn lying in wait on a smuggler's path?
Under cloaking?
In the Korva sector?
Questions upon questions, and Thrawn clearly wasn't giving answers yet.
All that remained was to wait.
And hope the grand admiral would deign to explain.
But if Tschel had learned anything, it was that the time for clarity had not yet come.
Not all pieces of the plan were in place as the grand admiral required.
Only waiting remained.
***
Karrde stared unblinkingly at the people seated before him, continuing cautious movements with his hand.
The glass clutched in his thin, long fingers was washed from within by fragrant dark liquid, filling the Solo couple's guest quarters with the aroma of aged Virrenian.
"You'll spill the whole whiskey like that," Calrissian commented, draining his own glass. "Don't toy with a fine drink. If you don't want it—pass it to someone who'll appreciate it."
"To you, maybe?" Karrde asked, glancing at Calrissian.
"Of course," Calrissian replied fervently. "One of the best drinks, and you're tormenting it in the glass—you'll splash it any second…"
"And onto my carpet, costing as much as a decent airspeeder," Solo added with a sigh, looking at the empty bottle Karrde had brought.
Virrenian aged was an expensive Corellian whiskey impossible to find even for credits.
With its amber color, woody taste, and rich smoky aroma, this spirit enjoyed well-deserved popularity among smugglers and black-market traders.
And the bottle Karrde had brought belonged to batch NN182—the rarest of all.
Han had once claimed he could sell the Falcon and maybe afford a crate of Virrenian aged.
But that wasn't certain.
With this whiskey, one could be sure of only one thing—it was the best of all Corellian whiskeys.
And the late Wedge Antilles had adored it.
"I know Virrenian well enough to know how it should be drunk," Karrde said slowly, sniffing the glass. "Not slammed back like you do, Calrissian, and not sipped with ice—" Solo glanced at his own glass and the melting ice cubes in it. "First it needs to breathe, and then the aroma opens up…"
Sitting at a distance, Chewbacca growled discontentedly, tinkering with a broken child's toy.
"I'll side with Chewie," Solo said. "We didn't gather here to listen to your sommelier lectures, 'Claw.'"
"Yes," Talon took a sip. "Exquisite. So, everyone heard our lovely foreign minister?"
"No deaf people here," Han rolled his eyes. "We've no time for verbal exercises either, 'Claw.' My wife and my friend are about to walk into an aristocrats' den, and you're showing off. If you have something to say—out with it."
"I always have something to say," Karrde sighed. "For instance, attacking the Tion Cluster sectors is foolish. But who'll listen to me?"
"I will, for one," Leia said, setting a small travel bag on the commode and sinking onto the sofa beside her husband. "Even at the meeting I realized my mission wouldn't be easy. That's why I asked for this meeting. I need to know what we'll face in negotiations with House Tion representatives."
"You'll face them, all right," Karrde said absently.
"Meaning?"
"Do you remember Lord Tion, Princess?" the Claw asked.
"The planet I was princess of no longer exists," Leia frowned. "Mmm… I don't think…"
"Then I'll give you a hint," Karrde said generously. "Do you remember the 'Pacification' of Ralltiir?"
"Oh no," Leia groaned.
"What's this about?" Calrissian asked, interested.
"The Imperials call it the 'Conquest of Ralltiir,'" Han said grimly. "It began three weeks before the Battle of Yavin but dragged on for years."
"You're not simplifying anything," Calrissian said.
"The Ralltiir High Council began opposing the Galactic Empire early in the Galactic Civil War, and most of the population sympathized with the Alliance to Restore the Republic," Karrde explained. "The Empire initially countered by infiltrating and sabotaging residents' and Rebel supporters' bank accounts, rendering the financial center useless to factions across the galaxy. Highly effective, given Ralltiir's status as an economic hub in the Core Worlds."
"But during their destabilization operation, the Imperials discovered significant Rebel forces on Ralltiir and active recruitment and training of our soldiers," Leia added. "Lord Tion, commander of the Star Destroyer Devastator, led a task force that crushed the nascent uprising on Ralltiir. I arrived to provide assistance, disguised as a diplomatic mission. The real goal was to gather intelligence on the Death Star. The mission succeeded, despite Vader's presence there. Lord Tion staged public executions and installed his own puppet, which ultimately didn't suppress the rebellion but prolonged the civil war on the planet. Ralltiir held out in that state until the Battle of Endor. It became the first Core World we liberated. But even with New Republic help, we couldn't restore its former status as a regional financial center."
"So that means Lord Tion is the one you'll be meeting?" Han interjected, glancing sideways at his wife. "It's old history, but still—no chance of trouble?"
"Oh," Karrde smiled, looking into Leia's eyes. "So General Solo doesn't know the full spiciness of the situation?"
Han frowned, glancing at his wife again.
If Karrde's mood was feigned, if he truly knew something deeper and wasn't just playing verbal games, then Leia was now searching his thoughts for proof "for" or "against" or whatever she "felt."
His wife's face had remained somber since Karrde first mentioned Ralltiir and Lord Tion.
But now it grew so… tense that Han couldn't miss the change.
"I take it I'm now under suspicion for divulging a major Organa family secret," the Claw said, still admiring the whiskey in his glass. "Don't worry, Princess. This secret will go with me to the grave unless you choose to voice it yourself and…"
"Lord Tion died on Alderaan in a hunting accident," Leia said through tight lips. "It happened some time before the Death Star's destruction and my capture by Vader over Tatooine. House Organa extended condolences to House Tion, but they didn't believe the circumstances of their influential aristocrat's death. They never received the body either—Wilhuff Tarkin destroyed my planet. After that, numerous rumors arose about what really happened to Lord Tion."
Han looked at his wife again; Leia's lips trembled.
Inwardly, Solo cursed the overly clever interlocutor every way he knew: Karrde's smile indicated he knew those rumors.
"My apologies," the princess said. "I didn't doubt you for a second, 'Claw.' But this story is unpleasant for my family."
"You are remarkably gracious, Minister," Karrde replied sarcastically, finally raising his head to look at Han and Lando. "Personally, I believe you, not the rumors that you supposedly gutted Lord Tion after he proposed marriage and revealed his involvement in the Death Star project."
Han cursed a second time.
Leia paled.
Lando, with the words "What utter nonsense!" pulled a flask of liquor from somewhere and emptied it in one gulp.
"I don't like taking everything on faith," Solo muttered. "Rumors are just rumors. Leia couldn't have shot anyone…"
He stopped mid-word, meeting Chewbacca's gaze.
Well… yes… He was lying.
Just recall how deadly accurate Leia's shooting had been in the Death Star's detention block, and later…
"It's all ancient nonsense, Karrde," Han said confidently. "If Leia gutted every scoundrel and villain who proposed to her, I wouldn't be here."
The Claw tilted his head.
"Of course, you're right, Solo. My apologies to the minister and everyone present—I merely voiced a rumor still cultivated in House Tion. And you need to understand this if you intend to undertake this mission."
A chill emanated from him.
An unpleasant pause hung; only Karrde himself could save the situation, and he was in no hurry.
Talon shifted his gaze to Calrissian.
"Well. Let's change the subject before the minister is again inclined to continue the dialogue about her trip. How are things on Iego?"
Calrissian choked on air and looked at the information broker as if he'd learned something that shouldn't have been discussed even in the closest circle.
"Everything's fine," Leia said. "They're just old rumors. Mon Mothma and Bel Iblis wouldn't have sent me to this meeting if they thought House Tion still held a grudge against me."
"Exactly!" Han tried with all his might to defuse the tension. "They're not suicidal—sending someone so integral to Alliance politics into a rancor's maw."
"You even know words like that," Karrde smirked.
"Don't push it, 'Claw,'" Solo darkened. "Or I'll find a way to combine your head and an empty Virrenian aged bottle. Not sure either would survive the experience."
"Let's all calm down," Leia said peaceably. "House Tion isn't just one or two people. There are those loyal to us among them. Just remember that Rebel military bases were stationed in Tion Hegemony territory. I'm certain we'll find common ground."
"Still, the situation is strange," Calrissian objected. "Why are they crawling out with their proposal only now? Why not when the New Republic was inviting everyone who expressed interest?"
"What's strange about it?" Han asked. "The Tion Hegemony wants its territories back. If they'd approached the New Republic, the matter would have dragged on for decades. Now they're offering us their money, knowing how desperately we need it, and understand we'll agree if we don't want another enemy in our rear."
"Unless it's about weakening the Allied Tion sector," Karrde suddenly interjected. "When Thrawn pulled his Lianna scam, seven corps of stormtroopers and ten of Moff Gronn's Star Destroyers vanished somewhere."
Lando shook his head.
"The moff himself disappeared too," Calrissian said. "And now he's broadcasting across the sector: take heart, citizens, we're surrounded by enemies, but this is a trial we'll overcome and emerge victorious."
"And no one has seen him in person, right?" Karrde prompted. "It could be simple bravado designed to lure opponents into attacking. Then his forces emerge from ambush and smash them. Depending on losses, Gronn could then go on the offensive and significantly expand his borders."
"Bel Iblis expressed something similar," the former princess supported Talon. "But we know Gronn isn't Thrawn; he's unlikely to devise such a trap…"
"And we also know he's sentient," the Claw reminded. "And surely knows how to read the Imperial Star Fleet's tactical manuals. The chapter on 'Ambush' is near the top of tactical maneuvers, isn't it, General Solo?"
"True," Han reluctantly admitted. "So let's think. We have aristocrats who want very tasty pieces back. We have Allied Tion, which can practically be taken if you have something stronger than Gronn's remaining forces…"
Karrde swirled the glass again; the dark liquid resumed its motion.
"Then why hasn't anyone attacked him?" the Claw asked. "From what I hear, he's left with only two or three Victory-class destroyers and a few dozen Tartan patrol cruisers. The Tion Hegemony has more forces. The Mandate even more so. But no one has lifted a finger. Except House Tion."
"Actually, why do you even think House Tion will demand the Alliance resolve their territorial issues?!" Calrissian grew agitated again. "Has the meeting already happened and the cards are on the table?"
"It's the only issue that has concerned House Tion for decades," Leia warned. "The conditions may differ, but in the Alliance we're certain it will happen exactly this way."
"Instead of resolving the problem with at least one sector themselves, they've decided to shift all problems onto us?" Han doubted, shaking his head. "Nerf nonsense."
Chewbacca growled discontentedly.
"Sorry, pal, that's just how they say it," Solo spread his hands. "Too many questions about House Tion, but no doubt they'll want their sectors back. We need to figure out how to get more information on House Tion's opponents' forces and crush them so quickly the Imperials don't have time to come to their aid."
Karrde suddenly set the Virrenian aged glass on the low table beside his chair.
The motion was so abrupt the whiskey nearly splashed onto the tabletop.
"Fine," the Claw said. "I was wrong in my assumptions: you yourselves want House Tion to start a war with their neighbors using your forces. Let's proceed from that premise."
"'Your' forces?" Calrissian wondered. "I recall you joined the Alliance, 'Claw.'"
"I'm paid—I work," Karrde reminded his motto. "Out of sympathy for the Rebel cause—days and nights. Out of affection for Lady Organa-Solo—sometimes even at cost."
Han glanced at his wife; a blush crept onto her cheeks.
"Has anyone ever told you trying to flirt with a married woman is a direct path to dental prosthetics?" he asked, cracking his knuckles.
"You won't believe it, but I have an excellent prosthodontist," Karrde smiled charmingly. "Are we moving to personal matters again, or shall we continue discussing the complex question of what to expect from the negotiations?"
"We wouldn't have to discuss it if your people operated in the Tion Hegemony," Solo muttered.
"Thanks for the offer, but I value them too much to throw them into the fire," the Claw declared. "The Hegemony isn't the best place for smugglers. They adore aristocracy there—literally worship it—so no loose tongues or smuggled goods. And you can't legally enter their market without greasing someone in House Tion. But the problem is—they need nothing I can offer as a gesture of goodwill. Especially since my reputation is thoroughly tarnished by cooperation with the Alliance and New Republic—Grand Admiral Thrawn worked hard on an information war against my organization not long ago."
"Probably to create the very situation we're all mired in," Leia replied. "Tension in the galaxy is so high, distrust at every turn. The Alliance may consist of many sectors, but its armed forces are essentially the Mon Calamari fleet."
"Whereas allied sectors' forces defend their homeworlds," Karrde smiled. "I'd hint at a historical parallel and say the Alliance is essentially a copy of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, well-known to the galaxy…"
"That sounds like heresy," Calrissian said.
"No," Karrde declared. "Just a joke to lighten the mood. I was invited here to share information. I've done so. Note—out of respect for the princess—free of charge. Don't stick your nose into the Tion Hegemony; nothing good will come of it."
"Unfortunately, I can't ignore Mon Mothma's wishes," Leia said.
"Why not?" Karrde wondered. "If we set aside the fact that she's your superior."
Han grimaced.
"You're just pumping us for information," he said. "And that's 'provided free of charge'?"
"Perhaps," the Claw replied gloomily. "But it occurred to me that if I traded my knowledge of the Tion Cluster sectors for credits, your flagship wouldn't even be fueled for the flight to Lianna."
Solo rolled his eyes.
He didn't even want to know how this scoundrel—and part-time information broker—knew that too.
"For what purpose is all this being undertaken, Minister?" Karrde asked. "You're being sent on risky negotiations that clearly lead to military action against Imperial Remnants and neutral sectors in the Alliance's rear, and on top of that on an unarmed ship… I don't know about you, but these intriguing prospects frighten me. Combined with Philip Santhe's untimely demise and the rise of his son, promptly crushed by Alliance bigwigs now running the remnants of his company, extremely unpleasant thoughts arise in my head."
"What kind? That the Alliance has decided to destroy your organization and is stockpiling allies from the noble aristocracy?" Lando suggested ominously.
Karrde shook his head negatively.
"Far-fetched. I'd know if your government had such intentions. What interests me far more is that thirty light cruisers and escort frigates are being sent with General Solo's fleet. And soon all the Imperial Star Destroyers captured at Lantilles—whose crews are already formed—will join him. It rather resembles assigning the general to establish customs control on Lianna. And once the CC-7700 interdictor frigates come out of repair, the situation will become irreversible for free trade."
"Seems someone will lose money on customs duties?" Solo raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"No," Karrde replied. "I'll just choose more interesting routes. Too many trade ships from the Corporate Sector pass through Lianna, carrying plenty of interest to the Hutts. Your government hasn't considered this, but I'm curious—what happens if customs in the person of General Solo starts inspecting those ships and delays deliveries from the corporates to the Hutts? Who will lose their temper first?"
Han opened his mouth to object but thought better of it.
"It smells like tibanna gas," he said. "I didn't know about the interdictor frigates and thought it was just defense…"
"First serving of information free of charge," Karrde smiled. "If you need to know who'll smack you first—you know my comlink frequency."
"I still can't forget it," Han muttered.
"So, Minister," Karrde looked again at the former princess. "Since the Alliance treasury is empty, I propose a trade. You tell me why the Alliance needs Tion's help, and in return I'll tell you which route to choose to avoid falling into the clutches of corsairs and other less-than-pleasant sentients cruising between the galaxy's west and north. I assume you wouldn't want to encounter the Black Sun battle group that stopped in the Thanium Worlds and is preparing to jump toward Salukemai soon?"
Han felt his jaw drop.
"And you kept quiet?" he asked, clenching his fists.
"The Alliance government already owes me about twenty million credits," the Claw said. "Including for fresh information on the New Republic Second Fleet's regrouping. Galaxy realities change daily, and information value grows exponentially. I refuse to work for promises and thank-you letters—my business requires cash flow. Don't think my kindness toward the princess is my weakness. I can disappoint in the Alliance's ideals and continue my affairs elsewhere in the galaxy while my pockets aren't empty. The choice is yours."
Leia licked her lips.
"I hope this information won't be used against us?" she clarified, staring unwaveringly at Karrde.
"Just as none of the other information I already possess about the Alliance will be," Karrde stated. "In my view, providing you comprehensive data for your mission's safety in exchange for new information I can use to improve my legal business is a perfectly fair price."
"And if this continues," Han said bitterly, "you'll accumulate so much you'll have nothing left to trade."
"I can always find more valuable information, Solo," Karrde interjected without breaking his intense gaze from Leia. "I don't think you truly believe I have reason to sell your secrets to the Empire or any of your other enemies. They're certain they'll destroy you soon, so they won't spend much. And I don't hold clearance sales of valuable intel."
"Which, of course, depends on how valuable the information Leia provides is," Lando remarked indifferently. "Because since the government meets in a tight circle, you're spending far too much time obtaining insider data."
The Claw in turn studied Calrissian carefully.
Han noticed this noteworthy fact purely by chance and now burned with curiosity.
"So what will your next step be?" Talon asked, still disinterested.
"Koensayr," Leia said. "An alliance with the Tion Hegemony will give us funding to secure that planet."
"Problems may arise," the Claw maintained calm diligently. "As far as I recall, the Imperials are pushing toward Denon. Koensayr lies on their path, and significant forces will be needed to withstand their onslaught. And I, purely by chance, am completely unaware that Koensayr has become a bomber supplier for the Alliance, and Admiral Eclipse's squadron intends to strengthen positions and drive Moff Getelles's forces off Loronar. And I have no idea this is connected to the Alliance acquiring several Strike-class cruisers with crudely attached gravity-well generators."
"If you also, purely by chance, know how to secure financial assistance while avoiding bloodshed, I'll kiss you, 'Claw,'" Leia said.
"I'm afraid we'll skip the tenderness, Minister," Karrde glanced quickly at her and fixed his stare on Calrissian again. "Now it's clear why my ships are gently but persistently redirected to transport in other parts of the galaxy rather than to Koensayr runs. It seems Mon Mothma and Bel Iblis decided to keep this secret as long as possible."
"No one is accusing you of selling information to our enemies," Lando stepped in. "I'm just thinking I also knew nothing about someone eyeing Loronar."
Han just blinked.
He'd been wondering why Bel Iblis had suddenly switched Karrde's freighters from military equipment transport to food runs, forcing them to haul provisions to Lantilles and other bases while sending only small transports to Koensayr for products.
Until now he'd thought it was due to low bomber production volumes, but now he wondered if leadership distrusted the Claw.
"Karrde," he said softly, "I don't think…"
"No need," the Claw cut off. "I doubt Bel Iblis, out of the goodness of his heart, shares his thoughts about me with you. Well, thank you, Minister."
The information broker reached into his pocket and placed a small data chip on the table.
"Here's everything I know about mercenary movements in the galaxy's north and west. Honestly, I'd advise taking the Falcon, then meeting General Solo under his protection to reach Lianna, and from there to the Tion Hegemony."
"Thank you," Leia said, gesturing for Lando to pass the chip to her.
"I've heard mercenaries of all stripes have been active lately," Calrissian warned, taking the storage device from the Claw and handing it to Leia. "Whoa, it's completely full! Did you track every mercenary in the galaxy?"
"No," Karrde objected. "Only transport and combat ship movements from the Tamarin sector and neighboring Rseik sector."
"And what prompted such attention?" Han asked suspiciously.
"This information costs a lot, Solo," Karrde noted. "Especially since it doesn't concern Alliance affairs."
Han glanced grimly at his wife; Leia looked at Solo with the same puzzlement.
Awaiting an affirmative nod from his wife, the Corellian continued:
"General's salary is so high there's nowhere to spend it," he cautiously cast the line. "Maybe we can make a deal?"
"Better fix the Falcon," Lando said to his astonishment. "Or should I pretend not to notice the hyperdrive generator acting up again?"
Han didn't take the bait and start an argument with his friend.
He drilled Karrde with his stare.
"If you have a couple hundred thousand credits, I'm ready to talk," Karrde said, returning to the Virrenian aged glass. "If not, better save up."
Han couldn't help envying the Claw: they were nearly the same age, but Han, despite his smuggler past and general's present, could never learn to carry himself with the same effortless poise.
"You can use my salary account too," Leia said in the meantime. "I'm sure there's enough."
"Thank you," Talon drained his glass in one gulp. "My people see recruitment of mercenaries happening in those two sectors. They're taking everyone—mostly shooters and fighters. Robbers, killers, thieves, simple street vagrants—all who want to earn a few hundred credits. They're loaded onto ships and sent across half the galaxy. Recruitment is personally handled by a character known in the Tamarin sector as Marg Sonat."
"And what makes him so famous?" Calrissian wondered.
"He was lieutenant to a highly successful lady who turned rabble from those two sectors into a unified force," Karrde recounted. "With those bandits, she overthrew Moff Lobax Resuuna's regime. The moff has long been dead. As is the lady who organized the pirates—Marg Sonat spilled her guts, brains, and spirit…"
"Touching story," Solo sighed. "But how does it concern us? If I remember astrogation correctly, the Tamarin and Rseik sectors are now on the New Republic's southeastern borders, and their problems don't interest us…"
"If only it were that simple, yes," Karrde said. "But there's a nuance."
"I hate that phrase," Calrissian grumbled. "Let me guess—they're being recruited by Imperials against us?"
"You'd never make a Jedi—don't even start," Karrde advised. "Into Marg Sonat's and his people's hands fell the Imperial Star Destroyer Retribution—Resuuna's flagship."
"We didn't have enough of one Tavira slicing around on a Star Destroyer," Han grimaced. "Now another gang shows up…"
"Wait a minute," Calrissian frowned. "Something about this story bothers me. I just can't figure out what."
"No one pays me for hints," Karrde smiled delicately.
"Why would a gang leader owning a Star Destroyer personally recruit mercenaries who, by your description and criteria, are just cannon fodder?" Solo leaned forward. "And where are they headed?"
"Those are the right questions, General," Karrde nodded. "I won't even charge extra for them. What do you know about Kessel, General Solo?"
The man shuddered at the memories.
That's where he'd obtained smuggled spice for Jabba the Hutt's runs.
That's where he'd freed Tyber Zann, sparking the restoration of the Zann Consortium.
That's where Wedge and Rogue Squadron had recruited criminals to destabilize Coruscant before its fall to the New Republic years ago.
That's where…
Too much had happened to simply brush off Karrde's mention.
"It's the galaxy's largest spice supplier," Calrissian said. "And they've long declared themselves out of contact with anyone in the galaxy."
"And that led to rising spice prices," Leia continued. "Since it's a vital ingredient in most medicines, their sales prices soared too."
"What's the point?" Han asked. "Kessel hasn't caused headaches and hasn't appeared anywhere for years."
"All because those years it was under Morgut Dul's control—your old acquaintance, General," Karrde explained. "And recently I learned the Chimaera pinned Dul's gang to the wall. And spice deliveries to the market have sharply declined."
Leia's face paled.
"You're saying Pellaeon has taken Kessel and controls spice mining?" Calrissian gasped.
"I think I'll stay silent," Karrde said. "You've already said it."
"So they're not sitting idle," Han concluded. "While the galaxy is being carved up, the Dominion has decided to continue Thrawn's tradition of expansion."
"And seized control of the most valuable medical raw material source," Leia whispered.
"I don't know how much spice and glitterstim the criminal world has in storage, but soon everyone will face shortages," Karrde continued. "If Pellaeon is at least somewhat competent and was a grateful student of our late grand admiral, very soon we may all be queuing for spice and buying it from the Dominion—or perhaps the Empire—for a lot of credits."
"So Marg Sonat is forming forces to retake Kessel?" Calrissian clarified.
"Not only that," Karrde said. "Kessel is certainly their goal. But there's another nuance. Marg Sonat and Morgut Dul operated under Black Sun, which gained strength after Wedge Antilles freed some vigos and lieutenants from Kessel. And they don't like losing both the mining site and the transit point from Kessel to the Corporate Sector, where large-batch trading occurred—no longer accessible to them."
Han's face stretched.
"You're saying…"
"I didn't mention the pirate battle group nesting in the Thanium Worlds for nothing," Karrde explained. "Very soon they'll strike both Kessel and Lianna."