4. Initial Conditions
Bilbringi was fixed in his memory as the crisis point. Aves hadn't been at Wayland, a fact he still wasn't sure whether to be thankful for or not, so it was Bilbringi instead that stood out to him as the moment it all started to go to hell.
The irony, of course, was that they'd actually won at Bilbringi.
The Republic had, anyway, with a healthy assist from them – which made what the Repubs had ultimately done to repay them all the shittier. They'd left the shipyard gutted behind them, the Imperials retreating in controlled chaos while one of their biggest strategic assets burned away into the vacuum of space.
"That," Wedge said over the comm, as they booked it out of there, "was awesome."
"Completely," said one of the other X-Wing pilots, whose designation completely escaped Aves. He never could make heads or tails of the Repubs' military structure, or lack thereof. "Not a bad day's work."
"Aves," Wedge said, "you and your team should follow us out. You can regroup with the fleet, and then head wherever it is you need to go. It'll be safer than way."
"I don't know..." he began. He could feel Gillespee and Faughn watching him closely.
"Aves, don't even think about it..." Mazzic cut in. Apparently, he'd been listening on this channel the whole time. Aves ought to have known.
"Come on, we'll feed you the coordinates," Wedge said, ignoring him. "The Republic owes you a proper thank you."
"What? You gonna pin a medal on us?"
He could practically hear Wedge grinning through the feed. "It's not so bad once you get used to it."
Aves had gone, and taken the others with him, over Mazzic's protests. Only the idea that the Republic military was likely to show its appreciation in some tangible fashion finally shut him up.
"They'd better pay up," Mazzic had said, glowering, while they stood in one of the Republic's wide hangars on Azorr, the regular troops giving them a wide berth and the guards giving them the stink-eye. Aves had never seen a landing facility so clean, even the fixtures gleamed like new – which, he supposed, given that the Republic itself had only existed for a couple years, they probably were.
"They will. Keep your pants on."
"Ha, you wish," Mazzic muttered back.
Wedge caught sight of them from across the hangar, jumping down from his X-Wing and crossing the distance between them. "There you are!" He grabbed Aves enthusiastically, half-embrace and half-handshake. "Man, am I glad to see you all in one piece."
"I'm glad to be in one piece, and glad to see to you, too." Aves grinned at him. "It looks like you aren't going to be forgetting us this time."
"How could I? That platform blowing to hell and back is one of the more spectacular things I've seen lately..."
"We didn't think it was going to make quite such a big boom, but I'm not complaining."
"The Empire might have some complaints to register, though. Hey, let me buy you a drink." He grinned around at Mazzic and Gillespee. "Hell, I'll buy the whole lot of you drinks."
"I was under the impression," Mazzic said coolly, "that we were here to discuss compensation?"
"Oh, of course. But surely that can wait? Folks here want to celebrate. All the rest of that stuff can keep until morning..."
Aves grimaced. "I think Mazzic here is in a bit of a hurry to get back."
"Okay, okay," Wedge said. "Admiral Drayson is here somewhere. I'm sure he can-"
"Mazzic," Aves said, reconsidering, "today was rough. Have a drink, get your money in the morning."
"I don't trust-"
"You can," Wedge said, his exuberance fading a little. "You'll get repaid for your trouble. I can promise you that."
"Great," Aves said. "Now everyone's happy. Let's go have that drink with our new friends."
In better times, Azorr, with its wide beaches and long seasons, had been a popular vacation spot. Since then, its strategic location made it prime real estate for military bases, both Republic and Imperial. The Repubs had it these days. They'd pounded the Imperial outposts to dust, right after Endor, hit them hard and then paved over the wreckage, leaving those key stretches of coastline on the main continent looking unspoiled and outwardly peaceful.
There were remnants of those better days along the waterfront – seafood shacks and knickknack shops, once-glossy nightclubs faded from their former glory. They wound up in a little beachside bar, one that was clearly designed to cater to military clientele.
"You come here often?" Aves asked, casting a leery eye around the place. It was a dump – and he'd been a smuggler for a while now, he knew from dumps.
"This place is a total dive," Wedge said. "But..." The bartender produced a bottle with a flourish. "It's the only place this side of Selonia that stocks this."
"Am I supposed to know what that is?"
"If you did," he said with a grin, "I'd be impressed." He took charge of the bottle, popping the top and pouring a careful measure into each of the glasses the bartender had lined up on the bar. "Corellians tend to keep the best for themselves, and export the rest. This stuff doesn't usually make it this far from home."
They made a motley crew at the bar – half fighter jocks, still looking spit-shined and straight-laced, even out of uniform; half men of apparently questionable morals, looking exactly the opposite. Still, they'd found some common ground; had found a way to work together. It made Aves happy somehow, like this was the shape of things to come.
They'd had one hell of a good day.
"Thank you," Wedge said, raising his glass and looking around at their strange little group. "I know you had your individual reasons, but what you did out there made a real difference."
"Here, here," one of the other pilots said. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far," said another, "but it would have been a hell of a lot harder."
Gillespee laughed at that, seeming to warm up to them a little thanks to the promise of free booze. "Here's to being useful, then."
Glasses clinked together and a good two-thirds of them knocked the drink back immediately – and promptly choked.
"Sip it!" Wedge said, with a laugh. "Slowly. It's not very forgiving if you don't take the time to enjoy it."
"Hot damn," Aves said, pounding a fist against his chest. Wedge put a hand on his back, still laughing.
They'd finished the first bottle in record time, and somehow he and Wedge had wound up side-by-side, sharing a second, sitting on the beach close to the water's edge.
"You fellas throw a decent party," Aves said.
"It's not Endor, but I'm not complaining."
"A party with Ewoks? I'll pass, thanks."
"I could have done without the Ewoks myself, but it was a hell of a night," he said, passing the bottle back to Aves. "This is a big deal," he continued after a moment. "We needed a win. We were starting to lose hope. It was starting to feel like all the years of fighting, all the people we'd sacrificed, like it was all for nothing."
Aves took a drink, looking out at the water. "I can't even imagine."
"I'm glad you can't. No one should have to."
Aves had tended, back then, to think of Wedge as nice enough, but just another starry-eyed kid who'd lucked into the right side of a stupid war. So it gave him something of a jolt to look into the other man's eyes and see something familiar there – a weary bitterness, like he was tired of the whole universe. Wedge hid it well – under a kind of boyish, nice-guy charm – but that night the whiskey had stripped away a little of the surface, providing a glimpse into some of the battle scars underneath.
"That's rotten. I'm sorry."
"You get used to it, but there's a limit, you know?" he said, sounding like an old man. Then again, Aves himself was only a few years older, and most days he felt pretty ancient. At least Wedge had something to show for the damage.
"Well, let's do our best to make sure it doesn't all go down the shitter. How does that sound?" Aves said, standing and offering Wedge a hand up.
Wedge laughed and slung an arm across his shoulders, both of them a little less than graceful on their feet by that point. "You hang around blowing up enough Imperial bases, and we might just have a chance at that."
"No promises on that one – but if you're in trouble, you can always call."
They stumbled back toward the base, a few paces behind the other pilots, who'd begun by that point to sing a very off-color song.
"Kids these days, right?" Aves said. "Can't handle their liquor."
Wedge gave him a grin, laughed, and slung an arm around him again... which was interesting. Aves had been around enough to know that he probably wasn't putting any particular signals out there on purpose – just friendly and open, not to mention pretty heroically drunk – but it was kind of nice to pretend. He put an arm around Wedge's waist in return, and just went with it.
"We're not exactly old fossils yet, you know," Wedge said. "I should be so lucky."
"You and me both."
"Hey, Wedge," one of the pilots said from up ahead of them. "What do you say to a quick game of cards?"
They crossed the threshold into the hangar, and Wedge groaned. "I feel bad enough taking your money while you're sober..."
"Oh, very funny," the pilot – Janson, maybe? Aves would get them straight eventually – said.
"Cards?" That was Gillespee, bringing up the rear and sounding way too excited about the prospect.
"Oh, boy," Aves said softly.
"Trouble?" Wedge asked.
"Maybe. Is your boy any good?"
"Not too bad."
"He'll be okay, then – just as long as they don't let Faughn play."
"How come?"
"She cheats."
"She does not," Gillespee said, overhearing, "cheat."
"Maybe it's not technically cheating, but she does have an unfair advantage..."
"And what's that?" Wedge asked, looking amused.
"One hell of a nice rack, and a very tight tank top."
"Manners, Aves," Gillespee said, but didn't deny it.
"Sure, you haven't got any problem with it. She cuts you in."
"On the winnings or the rack?" Wedge asked, and Gillespee actually laughed.
"I like you, kid. I'll try not to take too much of your money."
"I think I'm going to pass," Wedge said.
"Yeah, me too," Aves said. He let go and Wedge swayed ominously on the spot. Ah, mystery solved. He could barely stand up by himself. He put a hand on Aves' shoulder and managed to stay upright.
"Have it your way," Gillespee said, following the others toward Mazzic's ship.
"I need the galaxy's biggest glass of water and then some sack time..." Wedge began. "Ah, hell. I am old, aren't I?"
"Old before your time, one of the perils of living an interesting life..."
Wedge, though, had stopped short, frowning at an empty hangar slot. "What the hell? Where is she?"
"Uh, where is who?"
"Oh, there she is!" he said, sounding crazy relieved, and headed toward his fighter. Another mystery solved. They'd moved Wedge's X-Wing deeper into the hangar, putting it next to the smuggling ships, between them and the other fighters like a shield.
"Gee, are they afraid we have something catching?" Aves asked, but Wedge wasn't listening. He was looking at the ship the way a kid looks at his best girl. They walked in between the fighter and the Starry Ice. He could hear Torve and Silas through the freighter's open hatchway, probably bitching about having to stay behind and keep an eye on things. He frowned at the X-Wing. "I don't get it, you know. They're flying deathtraps. One good tap from a TIE and it's good night, flyboy."
"You ever flown one? It's better than-" Wedge laughed. "Well, it's pretty damned amazing. You should try it. Let me take you up there sometime, and I'll change your mind."
He leaned Wedge up against the side of the freighter, laughing at him. "When you can stand up under your own power, maybe we'll talk."
"Hey, Aves..." It was Torve, leaning out the hatch, a frown on his face. "Got a message you need to see." Then, taking in the scene, "Aw, damn it. You're plastered. This is just what I need..."
Something in his tone set off red flags for Aves. "What?"
"It's the boss," Torve said, "and it's not good."
"Aves?" someone said then, sounding far away. He frowned. Something didn't quite fit. "Hey, get up." That same someone shook him by the shoulder, and he realized that he must be asleep, dreaming memories.
He jerked awake abruptly to find Zillah, stripped down to her skivvies, standing beside his bunk. "You're up," she said, "and I'm toast. My turn to sleep."
"Ah, shit," he said, rubbing his palms over his face. He actually felt worse than before he'd gone to bed.
"You okay?" she asked, looking pretty worn out herself.
"I hate sleeping in hyperspace," he said, sitting up. "It gives me weird dreams."
"That's an old superstition."
"I'm an old-fashioned superstitious guy."
She shook her head at him, but smiled nonetheless. "It's my turn. Get out."
"You could always join me." He waggled his eyebrows at her.
"Oh, yeah. You're a charmer," she said dryly. "Now move it." She slapped him on the thigh, and started to crawl into the bunk as he exited.
"Hey." He stopped her with a hand on her arm, thinking suddenly, for some reason, about his dream. "You said I could trust you."
She stopped short, sitting down beside him on the edge of the mattress. "And?"
"There's somebody else that I want to trust, but-"
Zillah raised an eyebrow. "Someone special, I take it."
"Yes... Wait, what? No." He actually felt his face warm. Hell. "What I mean is..." he said, pulling it together. He was still about as pissed as could be at Wedge for that stunt on Abregado, but it was all tangled up with these other emotions that he couldn't quite control. "This person might be able to help us, but I'm not sure it's the kind of help Karrde would accept."
"What kind of help are we talking about here?"
"Official help. New Republic help."
Zillah shook her head. "I don't think that's a very good idea. I don't know the details of Karrde's history with the Republic government, but it sounds like things got ugly." She paused. "Even if there wasn't past history there, I probably still wouldn't trust them."
"I don't trust them, but-"
"You trust this friend of yours?" She pulled the lumpy pillow into her lap and hugged it to her. "Okay- so say this person is trustworthy. Who says the rest of the Republic is going to be?"
"They don't have a particularly good track record of keeping their word. But if this friend of mine is to be believed..." He ran a distracted hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in messy spikes. "We could be in big trouble..."
"Tell me something I don't already know..."
"No, I mean big trouble. Not just the usual Empire generally gunning for us trouble, something specific and really, really bad. Something bad enough to kick us right to the top of the Grand Admiral's priority list."
She looked at him closely. "Bad enough to keep you from getting a good night's sleep, apparently. But you can't tell me what it is...?"
"I think the fewer people who know, the better – at least until I can get Karrde to tell me if it's true."
She frowned, looking even more tired than she had when she'd come in.
"Hey, you know what- Get some sleep. This can keep."
"Are you sure?"
"No," he admitted. "But there's not much we can do about it from here. When we get back, I'll talk to Karrde."
"Okay," she said, still frowning, but she lay back in the nest of blankets he'd just vacated. Without thinking, he reached down to pull the covers up around her. She rolled her eyes at him. "Are you everybody's big brother, or just mine? Go, before Silas and Nadal push the wrong button and blow us straight to hell."
"All right, all right," he said, standing up and grabbing his clothes. He crammed himself into the little washroom, obscurely missing the Starry Ice, and splashed water on his face, attempting to clear the last of the sleep fog from his brain. Zillah was already fast asleep when he emerged. Apparently, she had that knack for sleeping anytime, anywhere, given the chance – a skill that was pretty useful in this line of work, but one that he'd never quite mastered himself. He pulled the blanket up over her again as he walked past the bunk and she frowned slightly in her sleep.
The next few hours were mercifully uneventful, though he did find his mind occasionally wandering from the task at hand. His thoughts kept drifting back to Bilbringi, to Abregado, to the alley behind the Mumbri Storve cantina. Once they hit the planet, he decided, he was really going to have do something about this. He hadn't been much in the mood to talk to Wedge the last few weeks, but he couldn't just let it keep bugging him like this.
"Aves?" Nadal said. "I've got a message incoming for you, personal encrypt, high priority. Where do you want it?"
"Main terminal is fine," he said, and then froze as he keyed it up.
The message wouldn't have meant much to anyone else – a single line of text, apparently gibberish. But to Aves... It was the emergency code, the one Karrde would only use if he was in immediate and personal danger, the signal to run for the hills and regroup. He'd come up with it after that business with Mara and the Etherway, after Thrawn had gotten to him the first time.
"Damn it," he said aloud, and that didn't even begin to cover it.
"Problem?" Silas asked.
"Get Zillah."
"Come on, boss. She's asleep. She'd been up since we left Salara..."
"Wake her up. Get her up here now." He turned to Nadal. "Drop us out of hyperspace, and pull up a pre-calculated jump for me. It's hard-keyed into the system, and passcode protected. The code is Charlie Red Zulu 55487."
Nadal complied, the stars resolving themselves into bright white pinpoints as he dropped the ship into sublight, then said, "We in deep shit?"
"Probably."
Zillah appeared, not looking particularly rested, her hair pulled untidily away from her face. He didn't even have to speak, she took one look at his face and seemed to know what was up. She joined him at the terminal and said softly, "I assume we have some sort emergency back-up plan for the whole group?"
"Already underway. We're headed off to meet up with the Dawn Beat, and then jump through about three more checkpoints before we finally head to the back-up base – and, hopefully, all the others will make it there, too."
She put a hand on his arm. "Is Karrde okay?"
"I don't know. There was no other message."
"One of us should have been with him," she said, worrying her lip with her front teeth. "He keeps pushing me off on you, because he doesn't trust me. He doesn't want to have to deal-"
"It's his choice. He's the boss."
"We can't let him keep doing this. He might be the boss, but we're responsible for him."
"No argument there – assuming he's still around for us to gang up on."
"Well," she said, as the ship began to pick up speed again, running through the sequence for lightspeed, "let's assume for now that he is – and when we get to him, we're going to have to have a serious talk about this arrangement."
Smugglers, as a group, tended to be highly superstitious. Karrde had long been an exception to that rule, though just at the moment he was reconsidering his stance on the matter. Most smugglers, for instance, wouldn't have gone back to a planet where they'd been caught by a squad of Imperials – and they certainly wouldn't let themselves be slotted into the same landing pit. Karrde, though, tried to ignore the little tinge of uneasiness, of doubt. It was just bad memories making the place seem dangerous, he told himself as the Wild Karrde settled to the pavement, it wasn't logical at all.
"You shouldn't go out there alone, boss," Dankin said, clearly remembering the last time they'd been there, too.
"It'll be all right," he said, unstrapping himself from the seat and standing up. "You see anybody out there?"
"Not yet. Mazzic's here, though, like he promised. The landing logs show him coming in about an hour ago. They've got him two pits over."
"So he probably saw us land." He keyed for the hatch release.
"Boss," Dankin said, pressing the issue, "I really think you ought to-"
"I'm just going to talk to Mazzic. Everything will be fine," he said, and stepped out into the landing pit.
The sun was out. It had been overcast the last time he'd been there. He remembered looking up at Mara, the sky behind her flat and grey.
Don't, she'd said then, taking his weapon away from him easily. I can get you out of this; I can get us out of this.
He should have wanted her dead then, should have wanted to kill her with his bare hands. In that moment, though, the betrayal hadn't bothered him that much – he'd had the sense from the beginning that she'd been running a long game, though, admittedly, he hadn't thought of himself as the mark.
He didn't get truly angry with her until later, when the whole truth had come out and he realized just how much she'd been keeping from him, how explosive her secrets really were.
"There you are, Karrde," Mazzic said, standing in the exact same shadow Karrde had chosen for his own hiding place back then.
"Mazzic," Karrde replied in greeting, allowing himself a cursory look up at the sky before crossing the landing pit toward him. "Any reason you chose this particular place for a meeting?"
Mazzic frowned at him. "I was in the neighborhood." He paused. "Any reason I shouldn't have?"
"No, none at all. Just getting superstitious in my old age, I guess."
"Old age?" Mazzic laughed. "If you're old, then I'm ancient – and Ellor and Billey are practically fossilized."
"Maybe it's not just the years," Karrde admitted. Mazzic shook his head, still smiling, and Karrde couldn't help noticing that this was the closest to friendly they'd been in longer than he cared to acknowledge. He was more than a little ashamed to admit it, but it made him suspicious. "I'm led to understand that you have some information to sell?" he said, attempting to keep his tone friendly and respectful, and succeeding for the most part.
"Not to sell," Mazzic said, "just to share."
The whisper of suspicion in the back of Karrde's mind dialed the volume up to a full-throated roar. "To share?"
"Look," Mazzic said, "this isn't worth much to anyone but you. Consider it a favor, and you can owe me one."
"Hmm," was all Karrde said in reply.
"The word is out from Thrawn's people. They've upped the ante on finding you – and it was pretty high already."
Karrde raised an eyebrow. "How high?"
"Seventy-five."
He whistled softly. In another life, he would have been impressed by that – maybe even a little proud. "And you're just freely passing this information on..."
Mazzic frowned darkly. "I know you think the rest of us sold you out – maybe that's even a little bit true – but just because I didn't want to get my ass shot off for you, it doesn't mean I want Thrawn to catch up with you."
"So this is a goodwill gesture?"
Mazzic shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. The others... None of the others wanted to tell you – except Gillespee, of course, but he's gone to ground in some shit-town in the back of beyond. It didn't seem right to me. If the situation was reversed, you would have told me." He smiled grimly. "You would have used it to your advantage, but you would have told me. You'd never have left me twisting in the wind."
"That's true," Karrde said. "A little less than flattering, but true." He paused. "The others knew you were going to seek me out and tell me?" he asked, feeling a sudden uncomfortable thrill of apprehension. He looked at the sky again.
"Come on, Karrde. You can't really think that any of our old crew would go running to Thrawn, can you? They might sell you to the Republic, but not Thrawn. Not after everything."
"They might not have had a choice," he said, thinking of Mara, her hand on his wrist, pleading softly with him not to fight back and get himself killed, while a pair of stormtroopers hauled him to his feet and into a shuttle. Maybe he shouldn't have listened to her, maybe he should have just ended things then – on his own terms.
He realized that he'd fallen silent and Mazzic was watching him, an odd expression on his face.
"What is it?"
Mazzic shook his head. "I was just remembering the first time you and I ever worked together. Remember that? Aud was running a grift on that dimwitted lieutenant of Jabba's... What did she call it?"
In spite of himself, Karrde smiled. "The Corellian Two-Step..."
Mazzic smiled back. "Right, and she needed two 'nice-looking boys with good heads on their shoulders' to sell the bit. Was Jabba ever pissed. Served him right, though." He paused. "That was right after she and Billey met. I'd never seen him struck dumb over a girl before... I'd never seen him struck dumb over anything before. That was a hell of a thing, wasn't it?"
"It was," Karrde agreed. It felt like a lifetime ago, or remembering something that had happened to someone else.
"How sad is it that I've begun to think of those as 'the good old days?'"
Mazzic wasn't the only one, but Karrde didn't say that. "Maybe we are getting old." Then, "Thank you for the information. I won't forget it." The implication, of course, being that if this was legit, Karrde owed him one – and if it wasn't... well, Karrde wouldn't forget that either. The threat, though, was fairly half-hearted, and Mazzic gave him a wry smile like he knew it.
"Let's hope I don't have to do it again," he said, and was gone.
Karrde headed back to the ship, managing to only glance at the sky twice on the way. He still couldn't quite shake the feeling of unease, but pushed it down and held it there. He'd been led around by his emotions enough lately; he wasn't going to give in this time.
"Now can we get out of here?" Dankin asked, fingers already dancing over the controls, keying the rapid-sequence start-up even as the hatch closed behind Karrde.
"Now we can go," Karrde confirmed, Dankin breathing a sigh of relief as they got underway.
Karrde leaned back in his chair, only peripherally aware of the activity around him. His crew was good, and this was a routine take-off.
Seventy-five thousand, he reflected. There was really only one reason for Thrawn to have raised the stakes that high, though how he'd found out about what Karrde had was hard to guess. He needed to tell Aves about the bounty, at least, if not the rest of it. He needed to tell Aves, and Billey. Though, he thought with brief bitterness, he supposed all he would have to do was tell Maddoc and she'd save him the trouble.
They cleared the planet a few minutes behind Mazzic's ship, leaving orbit just in time to see a squad of Imperial fighters come screaming around the planet's largest moon.
"Um, that's not good," Corvis said from the co-pilot's chair.
"That would be an understatement," Dankin replied, with a half-glance back at Karrde.
"Play it cool," he said with more ease than he actually felt. "Let's see what they're up to."
What they were up to, apparently, was chasing Mazzic.
"Now can we get worried?"
Karrde ignored that. "Are we far enough out of orbit to make the jump now?"
"About two more minutes..."
That was risky, but it would also give them a front-row view of whatever it was the Imperials had planned for Mazzic. Sending fighters after him indicated that they were more interested in search-and-destroy than capturing him or his people alive, unless...
There it was – a Star Destroyer, one of the newer, lighter models coming out of the newly rebuilt shipyards at Bilbringi, but a Star Destroyer nonetheless. The fighters were herding Mazzic toward it, the big ship already activating its tractor beam.
"Make sure we get an ID on that Star Destroyer," he said, and Dankin gave him a look but did it anyway.
The stars outside the ship blurred and Mazzic's ship disappeared behind them, winking into the darkness of hyperspace. Karrde sat back, folding his hands, caught somewhere between relief that they'd managed to slip away unnoticed and the grim realization that his gut had been right this time.
Maybe there was something to those superstitions, after all.
"Shit," Dankin said, his hands shaking on the controls. Somehow he managed to make the curse sound like an 'I told you so.'
"Calm down." They'd dropped out of hyperspace a good distance from the system, the rest of the crew snapping efficiently into emergency protocols, leaving Karrde alone on the bridge with Dankin.
"Boss, I get that you like to imagine yourself as a one cool customer, but if there was ever a time to panic? It's now."
"We're safe for the moment, at any rate. Whether we stay that way is another matter altogether." Karrde reached for his display and keyed for the encrypted emergency signal. "But we have to play it smart."
"Sure," Dankin said wryly. "We've been real good at 'smart' lately."
Karrde pulled up the hard-coded jump to the pre-arranged emergency checkpoint. If all went well, the Fallow would already be waiting for them there, and then the Etherway and the Ort at the next one. Hopefully, Aves would make it to the Dawn Beat and the others in time to keep panic from setting in. The last thing they needed was for anyone to do something stupid. "We're going to rendezvous with the others..."
"And then?" Dankin asked, looking like he knew the answer but was hoping against hope he was wrong.
"After that, we're going to see about popping Mazzic out of whatever Imperial prison he's landed in – assuming he's still alive, of course."
"Boss-"
"No argument. Until and unless something changes, that's the plan." Just why it seemed so important to go after Mazzic wasn't entirely clear. Maybe it was the memory of his own time as an unwilling guest of Grand Admiral Thrawn, maybe it had simply been a long time since anyone had bothered to do him a real favor. Either way, it was hard not to feel like history was repeating itself.
At least this time, there was no danger of Mara happening again, he thought as they shifted easily back into lightspeed. She'd been his biggest mistake, his gravest miscalculation. What made it worse was that he was pretty sure that he'd do it all again – even knowing what he knew now.
It had been just like this before, on the run from the Imperials, nothing to do in the perpetual night of hyperspace but think – or, in Mara's case, try not to think.
The first time it happened they'd been three days off Rishi, trying desperately to put a few light-years between them and the Empire's bounty hunters. Throughout the trip Mara had kept insisting nothing was wrong, even though he could hear her uneven breathing, fighting sleep, from two bunks over. If it continued, he'd promised himself, he was going to pull rank and insist that she get someone to look at her.
As it turned out, he didn't get the chance.
Their back-up base was an abandoned farming compound on a rural planet at the edges of the Outer Rim. The main house was old and large with rough-hewn wood floors, far outside of the nearest town and neatly hidden from casual view. They'd only been there a day or two, everyone still keyed-up and tensions running high, when things had come to a head. Looking back, he knew it was mostly his fault – he'd let the situation go, let it get too far. At the time, though, he'd been blind to what was really happening. Whether his blindness had been willful or not was a question that still kept him up nights.
He'd worried about Mara, kept a close eye on her when she'd let him. She lashed out at him once or twice, never very convincingly, so he kept close. She pretended to be displeased about it, but wasn't really fooling either of them. She was frightened, and, if he was honest with himself, so was he. It wasn't a situation he'd been in very often, and he found he didn't particularly like it.
Her room was next to his – the main bedroom, with a little room for bathing and dressing attached, one of the few nods he'd ever given to the fact that she was one of the only women in his employ. It had been a chivalrous gesture, and entirely lost on her. They'd usually set their sleeping arrangements up with her next to him, in close proximity, to make sure that she was close at hand if he needed her. Again, whether that had been intentional on his part for other reasons was still up for debate. That night he stopped at her door, debating whether he should check up on her or not. He knocked once, then again. There was no answer, but the door was unlocked so he went in.
The lights were off, and Mara was nowhere to be seen.
"Mara?" he called into the darkness.
The tiny light in the bathroom was on, though. He crossed the room and eased the door open carefully. The floor was slick and shining with water and broken glass. They'd rigged up water to an old-fashioned shower unit in there, the door of which had burst outward, scattering shards of heavy glass on the wood floor. Water dripped down the walls and the mirrors were still fogged with steam.
He reached for his blaster.
"Mara?" he said again. There wasn't any blood, at least none that he could see – but if she was in here, and able to hear him, she ought to have answered by now. "Mara?" Then he heard it, a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. He followed the sound, noticing, as his eye adjusted to the dim, that there was a wet trail across the floor from the bathroom to the bed.
"Mara?"
She was on the floor, huddled down, with her back against the mattress.
"Karrde?" she said, looking right through him. Goosebumps pricked the skin on the back of his neck as he knelt down beside her. She was soaking wet, half-dressed and shivering violently. Even the air around her had gone cold. When he leaned in to take her pulse, she flinched away and he noticed that her lips were blue.
"What happened here? Did someone get in?"
She looked at him for almost a full thirty seconds before she responded. "No. Nothing like-" She swallowed. "Just an accident."
He didn't believe that for an instant, but wasn't about to say so. As long as no bounty hunters or Imperial assassins had found them, he wasn't going to pry. At least, he wasn't going to pry much.
"I told you I can't control it," she said, her voice sounding a little steadier, a little bit defiant. "I warned you."
"Is that what happened?" He sat back on his heels and looked down at the top of her head. "Do things like that happen often?"
"Not really."
"You've still never told me where-" he began, but she cut him off.
"I won't, not even if you order me to. Are you going to do that?"
He shook his head. "You ought to know better, Mara."
"I suppose." She paused, tugging slightly on her wet hair. "Nothing's been right since..."
"You still think I shouldn't have let him go?"
Something dark crossed her face, but she held her tongue. "It was hardly your choice anyway. But now... It's all started over again. It's his fault."
"Is it?" Karrde prompted gently.
"I see his face in my dreams. I can't make it go away. I know how but I can't-" She stopped, something changing in her expression, shutting down abruptly, like maybe, even in this state, she realized she'd said too much.
"It's all right, Mara," he said, lamely.
"It will be," she murmured. "It's not, but it will be."
"What should we do about your shower?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
"Take it out of my paycheck," she said, looking up at him, watching him just a half-second too long.
He swallowed, looking away, and said, "We'll have to have it fixed." He paused. "I think we ought to have you checked out, just to be sure."
Instead, she reached up and put a hand to his cheek. "I think maybe you ought to stay here."
He was attracted to her, had been since she'd dropped into his life on Varonat. He couldn't deny it, he'd never pretended to, and he knew she knew it. But he'd decided, almost from the first, that he'd never act on it – and he had thought she knew that too.
Then again, it wouldn't be the first time he'd miscalculated when it came to Mara.
He reached up slowly and moved her hand. "I think you might be in shock. Did any of the glass cut you?"
"No." She touched him again. "What makes you think I'm in shock?" She got unsteadily to her knees and leaned toward him. "Is it this?"
He recognized the expression on her face: desperation, mingled with raw need.
"I'm not sure," he said coolly, "exactly what you're running from, but I can promise you that I'd be a poor substitute."
She laughed sharply. "If you only knew."
"You could tell me."
"I'm not exactly in the mood to talk. Or hadn't you noticed?"
"I know what you're doing, Mara. It won't work." He stood up, pulling her to her feet.
"Won't it?" She took him by the arms, pulled him close. "Somehow I think you're wrong." She leaned in and pressed her lips against his collarbone.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, a little too roughly – he could feel her bones move under his hands when he pushed her away. She gave a little cry of pain, and his breath caught. He could hear his own heart thudding against his chest, blood rushing in his ears. Things were getting rapidly out of control.
Mara steadied herself against the end of the bed, regaining her balance, and smiled up at the expression on his face. "And here I never would have thought you were the type. There's a little kink under all that self-control. Or maybe..." She reached out a hand and pressed her long fingers against the vein pulsing in his neck. "Maybe the control is the kink."
"I don't like this game, Mara," he heard himself say. "You may wish you hadn't played it."
"Oh, are you going to make me sorry?"
"If I do, I can guarantee you won't like it." He pulled away from her.
"But you want to." She was still trembling slightly, even though the color was back in her face. "You want to, don't you?"
He didn't answer her.
"Have you noticed, Karrde," she said conversationally, "that I'm the one person you can't lie to, except maybe yourself?" She reached for him again, but he slapped her hands away. Hard. She laughed. "I wonder why that is? Don't you?"
"No."
"Maybe you don't," she said, and kissed him, tangling her hands in his hair.
He grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away, and kissed her back. There were slivers of glass in her hair when he reached for her, and they pricked at his fingers, drawing blood. He pushed her onto the bare mattress underneath him, and she began to unfasten his shirt. He grabbed at her hips, hard enough to leave marks. "Tell me," he said, pinning her there but making no other move to touch her. "Tell me what you're so afraid of."
"What about you?" she said, her eyes dark, the pupils blown wide. "I think you're afraid of losing. I think you're afraid of feeling anything."
"Is that what you're afraid of?"
"Maybe I'm just afraid."
"I won't help you run, Mara," he said, knowing as he did that it wasn't true.
She slid her hands down to his hips, tugging at the waistband of his trousers. "Stay or go," she said, closing her eyes, "but I'm through talking."
He stayed.
Nearly two years had passed and he could still remember little details clearly: her breath, in fits and starts and catches, close to his ear; her hands on the small of his back. He tried not to think about it too much, though. He already had enough ghosts in his head.
She slept afterward, more quietly and deeply than he suspected she'd slept in weeks. He stayed just long enough to make sure she wasn't having any more nightmares. He wished now that he'd stayed with her. It might not have made any difference in what ultimately happened – but, then again, it might have.
"We've got possible contacts, Aves."
"Imperials?" They were maybe thirty seconds away from hitting atmo at their final checkpoint, the Dawn Beat minutes behind them and two more of Karrde's freighters already waiting on the ground below.
"You know it," Nadal said. "Want me to scrub the approach?"
"Nah, that would just attract attention to us. Let's just hope they're fishing, and not actually expecting us."
Nadal gave Aves a look that spoke volumes to how likely he considered that, but he did as he was told.
Zillah was standing behind them both, arms crossed, watching the planet drift closer. "What flavor of Imperials? Local patrols or one of the big capital ships?"
"Looks local to me," Aves said, getting up to stand beside her and examining one of the displays. "That doesn't mean there isn't a capital ship or two waiting elsewhere in the system in case this party heats up." He said it easily, the voice, apparently, of long experience. "That would be pretty standard – especially if they're expecting us."
"Billey didn't warn me that this was like a regular thing with you people," she said lightly, trying not to let Aves know how rattled she really was. She'd been in tight spots over the years, but had mostly managed to avoid direct entanglements with the Empire. The thought of trying to outrun – or, even worse, fight – one of those giant Star Destroyers was making her extremely nervous.
"Hey," he said, letting a hand drop to the small of her back, where none of the others could see. "Remind me sometime to tell you about outrunning the Imperial flagship and a pair of Interdictors off Myrkr."
"Oh, yeah?" she said, feeling a little steadier. "That sounds like another tall tale to me."
"Well, if you don't like that story, there's always the time we took out not one, but two Star Destroyers with only a single squad of fighters and a couple ancient Dreadnaughts as back-up..."
"So, what you're trying to tell me is that this does happen to you all the time..."
He smiled at her. "What I'm trying to tell you is, we've got this."
"I don't think they're actively looking for us," Nadal said. "They just cruised right on by."
"Or they're waiting to get us all on the ground and keep us there..." Zillah said so that only Aves could hear.
"That's what I would do," he murmured back. "But once we're on the ground, maybe Karrde will have a brilliant plan."
"Assuming he's there..."
"Assuming he is." Aves frowned, tension around his eyes. "I really hope he is."
He was.
He looked tired, maybe even a little resigned to his fate, but otherwise unscathed. He crossed the distance between them, reaching a hand out to Aves and taking the younger man by the shoulder. "You're late," he said, but with affection.
"Boss," Aves replied, sounding incredibly relieved. "Am I glad to see you..."
Karrde's expression actually softened a bit for the first time Zillah could recall. "I'm glad to see you, too. I take it you had some trouble getting here?"
"Plenty, but you probably expected that." He paused. "There are some pretty heavy Imperial patrols around the planet. I guess you already know that, but..."
"I do," Karrde said. "They haven't shown any indication they know who we are, though."
"Well, that's something, anyway. How are we doing so far?"
"We lost the Fallow near Corellia, but otherwise we're pretty much intact. You're the last ones here."
Aves looked caught between dismay and relief that the losses had been so small. He settled for saying, "What the hell happened to you?"
"That is a fairly long story, and one I think better told once we're at our destination."
"Great," Zillah said. "Let's move my stuff over then." Off Karrde's questioning look, she said, "I'm coming with you on the Wild Karrde – unless you'd prefer to give me command of the Aude Rey, and Aves can come with you."
"Those are my choices, are they?" Karrde said, obscurely amused.
"She's right, boss," Aves said. "One of us should have been with you before. It was bad strategy to have both of us on one ship, and you on another."
"Hmm," was all he said in reply, but he didn't put up a fight as Aves heaved Zillah's bag through the Wild Karrde's main entrance.
"Call me," Aves said to her, "if you need me for anything." Karrde gave them an odd, searching look but didn't say anything.
The trip was a short one, to yet another planet with a name that sounded like something stuck in your throat. "You know," she observed, sitting in Karrde's office aboard the Wild Karrde, "for a guy who likes meaningful names as much as you do, your choices of planets are pretty obscure."
"It wasn't always like this," he said, looking at her like he'd never really bothered to notice her before. It was the first time they'd been alone together since Billey had left her with him.
"What was it like before?" she asked, but he ignored her and lapsed into silence. After a moment, she said, "I'm impressed that you were able to move a group this big under the radar... but there were easier ways to do it, you know."
That got a reaction. "You disapprove?"
"No, just observing," she said. "Most people's instinct would be to split up..."
"We stay together. We always have. It's our best bet for survival."
"What you mean is, the group survives or no one does. You're not willing to sacrifice individuals."
He shifted in his seat. "Do you always just throw those sorts of observations out there into conversation, or am I a special case?" Clearly, he thought this was getting a little too close to home. That was interesting.
"My understanding was that you're a man who appreciates directness, and information. Is that not the case?"
"Look here, Maddoc. Let's get a few things straight..."
"Just 'Zillah' would be fine," she put in mildly. He ignored her.
"Let's get this straight," he continued. "You're here because that's the way Billey wanted things, but I don't need a babysitter or a therapist – and I certainly don't need another second-in-command. You do what Aves tells you to do, you do what I tell you to do, and hopefully the next few months will go smoothly and quickly."
He turned his attention back to something on his display, and that, apparently, was that.
"This is living, right?" Aves said with a grin.
"This place is a dump," Zillah replied, falling into step beside him, "but I've seen worse."
"Have you?" he asked, looking up at the blocks of shabby apartments lining the avenue on either side of them, a clear invitation for her to share. She just shrugged, and he reached over and took her bag from her, slinging it over his own shoulder. "Karrde occasionally enjoys hiding in plain sight," he said instead.
"He does like to make things hard on himself, doesn't he?"
"And on you?"
She frowned. "He's not my biggest fan, so far."
"Long trip here?"
"I've seen walls more talkative..."
Aves shook his head, but he was smiling. Then, "Here we are..."
They'd reached the end of the block and a building that was in slightly better repair than the rest of the neighborhood. There wasn't any obvious security, but just because they couldn't see it that definitely didn't mean it wasn't there. Someone must have been watching them approach, because the main door unlocked itself for them as Aves reached for it.
Inside, the building was dimly lit, but clean – certainly not the best place she'd ever seen, but not the worst either. An almost eerie silence hung over the place, though. Zillah's experience of neighborhoods like this one suggested that there should be noise – children playing, mothers calling to each other from their open windows. This time of day, there should have been cooking smells, everyday household sounds.
"Are we the only ones here?" she asked, frowning at the apparently empty units.
"I think Karrde owns the whole building..."
"A slum lord, too?" she said sharply. "How charming."
"Hey," Aves said, "that's not fair. This place is in a lot better shape than the rest of this town."
"That's true," she admitted. She needed to get her frustration with Karrde under control. This was not about her feelings, despite the fact that Karrde seemed hell-bent on making everything about his.
"Hey!" Aves said, poking his head through one of the doors and greeting the man inside. "Good to see you."
"Aves!" It was Dankin. "We wondered when you were finally going to show up."
"We didn't want to attract too much attention to ourselves, so we waited a while at the drop..." He walked inside the apartment, motioning Zillah to follow him. "How are things going here?"
Dankin gave him a significant look, closing the door. "Man, am I glad to see you," he said, speaking quietly. "The boss has got this crazy idea in his head, and you're probably the only one who can talk him out of it..." He glanced at Zillah, as though suddenly aware that he was talking out of turn.
"It's all right," Aves said. "You can say what you need to say in front of her."
Just like that, Dankin apparently decided she was all right and gave them a complete run-down of everything that had happened. Billey had been right about the level of influence Aves had, about how much these people trusted him. She was glad he trusted her so far; otherwise this whole situation would be even more difficult.
"So," Dankin said, wrapping up, "Karrde wants to go grab Mazzic off that ISD. He's shut me down every time I tried to talk him out of it."
"Of course he does," Aves said. "Damn it."
"Like I said," Zillah sighed, "he does seem to like to make things hard for himself."
"Hard, nothing," Dankin said. "He's gonna get himself killed this time, if we're not careful."
"Where is he?"
"Ghent's got a makeshift command center set up upstairs. Karrde headed up there as soon as he got here." Dankin open the door and gestured toward a suspiciously ancient-looking lift.
"Will that thing hold all three of us?" Aves asked, apparently thinking the same thing.
"This place is in better shape than it looks," Dankin said and hit the call panel.
The infrastructure of the place was, in fact, in a lot better condition than Zillah had initially assumed, particularly on the upper floors where Karrde had set up offices – away from any casual prying eyes.
"You know I don't mind a fight," Dankin said, pausing before he hit the release on a particular door. "I'm just not looking to watch the boss commit suicide by stormtrooper – especially not for someone like Mazzic."
"I hear you," Aves said softly, and the door slid open to reveal Karrde himself, surrounded by a bank of sophisticated – if slightly outmoded – computers.
"I take it Dankin was giving you the highlights?" Karrde asked, and Dankin beat a hasty retreat.
"Pretty much." Aves let Zillah walk in first, before following and shutting the door behind them. "So Mazzic pulled you out of the fire and got himself nabbed while he was at it. Is that about the size of it?"
"Just about," Karrde said. "I'm sure Dankin has already filled you in but... I owe Mazzic." He shrugged. "So we're going to go get him."
"Seriously, boss?"
Zillah raised an eyebrow. "We just expended an awful lot of energy trying to get away from the Empire, and now we're going to fling ourselves straight into their path again?"
"I'm not going to leave Mazzic and his people there, if I can help it."
"With all due respect," Aves said, in a tone that left zero question how much respect he thought they owed Mazzic, "Mazzic and the rest of his crew haven't exactly been our best buddies lately..."
"He was there to do me a favor, an unsolicited one at that. He was doing the right thing, we owe him our help."
"An unsolicited favor? And you didn't think that was suspicious? This whole thing could be a trap."
"It could," Karrde said mildly, "but I doubt it. It's not really Thrawn's style to repeat himself."
"Repeat himself?" Zillah echoed. "So this has happened before?"
"A couple times – variations on a theme," Aves said, and that wasn't reassuring at all.
"This is not another Mara situation," Karrde said, still not nearly concerned enough about the potential for disaster this represented.
Aves's face, though, changed noticeably at the mention of that name. "Boss, I think we both know that you're not always..." He paused, looking helplessly at Zillah while he struggled for the right words. She certainly wasn't in any position to rescue him. "You're not always at your best when it comes to Mara... or to Thrawn, for that matter."
"This isn't up for discussion," Karrde said. Then, with a dark look at Zillah even though she hadn't said anything, "I'm not planning to make this decision via committee. I have Ghent pulling what he can on that ISD's expected destination." Ghent was, in fact, seated at Karrde's terminal, so focused on the job at hand that he didn't appear to even register their presence. "Once that's done I expect us to be ready to move," he said and walked out.
"Well," Zillah said, once he'd left, "that was something."
"This is not good," Aves said, running a nervous hand through his hair. "From the outside, this still looks decidedly not-good, right?"
"I think he's got a glitch in his operating system-" Ghent, who she thought hadn't been listening, chuckled at that, so she lowered her voice a little. "What's really going on here? You'd know better than I would."
"He wants to stick it to Thrawn – like really, really wants to – and the opportunity hasn't afforded itself very often lately. Plus, if Mazzic really was doing him a solid... Well, Karrde has weird ideas about obligations and codes of conduct..."
"So do you," she said. "So does Billey, when it comes right down to it, so apparently you both learned at the feet of the master." She frowned deeply. This didn't bode well at all.
"Zill..." Aves put a hand on her shoulder. "If you want out, it's okay. Billey didn't sign up for this, and neither did you."
"Are you kidding me? This is exactly what Billey signed up for. We'll just have to make the best of it – and try not to get killed while we're at it."
"What Aves is too nice to tell you is that this is a terrible idea." Maddoc looked up from the map display in their makeshift command center, regarding Karrde coolly.
"But you're not?"
"I'm not here to do nice," she said, meeting his eye. "I'm here to get results."
"Well," Karrde said, with something almost approaching humor. She was made of tougher stuff than she appeared; he had to give Billey that, at least. "That's duly noted, but I've already told you that this isn't up for discussion."
"Fine," she said, not appearing particularly intimidated. "I just want one of us to be on record – in case this blows up in our faces – that the sole reason we're doing this is because you are one stubborn SOB."
Aves flicked a glance in her direction, but her attention was wholly fixed on Karrde.
He met her gaze for a long moment, then directed their attention back to the map. "We're not talking about the Imperial flagship, or even a large sector fleet. This is a regional battle group, assigned to systems mostly comprised of rural and industrial planets. The people we're dealing with on this aren't the Empire's best and brightest, which…" He paused for effect. "Which gives us options."
"You're just planning to brazen your way in," Maddoc said, getting it before Aves did. "You're crazy."
"It's the one thing they won't expect," he replied, brushing away her objections, brushing away his own doubt.
"They won't expect it," Aves said, "because it's insane."
"It will also work, if we play it right."
"Boss, I can't bluff my way past the command crew of an Imperial ship..."
"Not you," Karrde said. "Me."
"You're going to go yourself? They'll recognize you," Aves warned. "It'll all be over in about thirty seconds."
"It worked before..."
"You had a Jedi with you," Aves said, and Maddoc raised an eyebrow in surprise. "That's an advantage we definitely don't have this time around."
"Another story you'll have to tell me later," she murmured, looking sidelong at Aves. Then, to Karrde, "He's right. You'll never blend in. You need a haircut, for one thing."
"Then I guess we have work to do, don't we?" He turned to Aves. "We need a ship and uniforms. I know you can get them pretty quickly. Call Jenka. He always has a supply of goods that fell off the back of some Imperial transport somewhere... Ghent is already working on all the proper codes and IDs."
"How exactly is he doing that?" Maddoc asked. "I know he's talented, but no one is that talented."
"Mara," Aves said, looking at Karrde shrewdly. "Mara cut us a backdoor, didn't she?"
"One I hoped I'd never have to use, but yes..."
"Let's hope you're not wasting it on Mazzic." He folded his arms across his chest. "This better be worth it to you, Karrde."
"We'll see. Get going on those supplies." He turned to Maddoc. "I don't suppose you have a razor handy?"
"Because I'm the girl?" she asked, looking amused. "I think I might. Follow me."
Within a few minutes she had him sitting on the edge of the basin in the cramped washroom. She handed him a complicated-looking shaving unit. "You know how to use one of these?"
"I think I can manage," he said, trying to figure out how to switch the thing on. She gave his longish hair and beard an appraising look.
"Let me," she said, taking it from him. "You don't have to do this, you know," she continued, as locks of his hair began to fall to the floor around them. "Aves and I can handle it."
"Have you ever even seen the inside of a Star Destroyer?"
"No, but I've gotten in and out of plenty of prisons in my day. Ask Billey sometime about what happen to Dravis on-"
"Be that as it may," he interrupted, "an Imperial capital ship is something else altogether."
"I'm well aware," she said coolly. "But I'm not at the top of the Empire's to-detain list – you are."
"As I've said, this isn't up for discussion. My mind is made up, and I'm going."
"Fine," she replied shortly, handing the razor back to him. "The beard is going to have to go too, then."
When he'd finished, she looked at him with amusement again. He hadn't seen her smile very often, and even then it had mostly been directed at Aves. "Come on," she said. "Let's go see if you pass muster."
Aves was waiting for them in the command room, arms crossed, frowning at something he saw on Ghent's screen.
"What do you think?" Maddoc said from behind Karrde. "Will he pass for an officer?"
Aves blinked, looking at Karrde in shock. "I've known you for ten years and even I barely recognize you."
Ghent, though, didn't even seem to notice. "Hey, boss? I managed to cut you an ID that's going to match the shuttle that Aves is having some friends of ours, uh, liberate from the dry dock at Charis. The tricky part, though, is going to be making sure those orders 'from' the Chimaera don't get there too long before you do. If the captain has the chance to send a message back to confirm receipt, we could be in a world of hurt..."
Aves was still staring at Karrde. He went to lean against the far wall next to Maddoc, as if to gain a better vantage point. "I know we've got more pressing matters to deal with, but I really can't get over it... You look like a real captain."
"As opposed to?"
"You know what I mean." Aves grinned at him.
Karrde shook his head and turned back to Ghent and the matter at hand.
"What about me, huh?" he heard Aves say softly to Maddoc. "Don't I get a haircut?"
She laughed at him and said, "You look surprisingly respectable. Get rid of that five o'clock shadow and you'll fit right in."
"Karrde always seems to get to have all the fun."
"He is the boss."
"I'm Aves's boss, at any rate," Karrde said, and they both looked up abruptly, as though surprised that he'd been listening. "How about you quit messing around and give me an update on those supplies I asked for?"
Aves made a weird face at him, like he was trying to figure out why this bugged Karrde so much, but just said, "Jenka had most of what we need." He looked at Maddoc. "I couldn't get my hands on any female officers' uniforms, though, and there aren't too many women in the enlisted corps..."
"It doesn't matter," Karrde said. "She's staying here."
Aves blinked in surprise. "Any particular reason?"
"Someone needs to stay behind and run things while we're gone." Karrde gave her a pointed look. "You keep saying you want me to use you the way Billey intended. Here's your chance."
"By leaving me behind to babysit while you go off and poke Grand Admiral Thrawn in the eye?" She returned the look, meeting his gaze evenly.
"Boss-" Aves began.
"She stays here," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. A look passed between Aves and Maddoc, communicating a hell of a lot non-verbally for two people who'd known each other less than a month. Perhaps sticking them together on the same ship for so long had been a miscalculation.
"Fine," she said, after a moment. "Like Aves says, there are few enough women in the fleet that it would probably be risky anyway."
"Or," Karrde said coolly, "you could just follow orders because I said so."
"Boss-" Aves began again, another glance passing between the two of them. There was definitely going to be trouble there, but addressing it would have to wait until later.
"I plan to," she replied, "but that doesn't mean I'm not going to give you my opinion – asked for or not. Billey calls it 'committing with disagreement.'"
Of course he did. Billey really had missed his calling as a political type – or, more likely, some sort of corporate robber baron.
Maddoc continued, "I've let you know my objections and now I'm done. I'll follow your lead, because you are the boss." She paused. "You're out of your mind, but you're the boss."
"Well, that's something, at any rate," he said. "Get moving, both of you."
Aves gave her a meaningful look as he turned to go, and she followed him into the next room. They closed the door behind them, but Karrde found that if he leaned close enough he could hear them through the thin walls. Curiosity being his default setting, he decided to eavesdrop.
"Hey, I think this is better," Aves was saying, his voice low, sounding worried. "This whole idea is pretty dangerous, so I think this is the right way to play it."
"Maybe," she replied. "It's not that I'm in any particular hurry to find myself on the wrong end of a Star Destroyer..." There was a long moment of silence. "But I'm worried that you're not going to be able to rein him in all by yourself."
"I can handle myself..."
"You like him too much," she said quietly. "You have too much history. He's more than a boss or a friend – he's family. I know the feeling, but it can be a liability."
"So if this were Billey...?"
"I'd be in the same boat." She sighed. "Billey would never do this, though. Honestly, I can't believe Karrde is doing it. It's completely out of line with what I expected from him."
"Which was?"
"My impression of his reputation was that he considered himself above all this," he heard her say. "That he preferred to stay in the background, that he thought of himself as kind of a gentleman thief."
"He does... He used to, anyway," Aves replied. "Lately, though, it's like he's got a deathwish."
"Does he? Dankin certainly seemed to think that might be the case..."
There was a very pregnant pause, and finally Aves said, "I don't really know anymore."
"If he is looking to get himself killed – or even if he just doesn't care very much whether or not he lives – that changes the situation pretty dramatically. I don't think you should send people with him to be cannon fodder – I don't think you should do that yourself, either."
"He's the boss," Aves said, sounding conflicted. "My job is to help him do what he needs to do."
"That might be your job, but it's not mine. My job is to keep him breathing, and to minimize the damage, if at all possible."
"For Billey."
"And for Karrde, and for you." There was a pause while they did that non-verbal thing again. Karrde couldn't see their faces, though. "I know you'd rather not talk about her, but don't you think I ought to know how this girl of Karrde's was able to build him a back door into the Empire's secure computer systems?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you..."
"Try me."
"I-" Aves appeared to fight a brief battle of conscience. "I can't. If Karrde wants you to know he'll tell you."
"Great. That'll happen – about two weeks from never."
"You're not going to call Billey, are you?"
"That's not my job, either," she said. "Billey expects me to be able to handle things like this on my own."
"Okay, good. Thank you."
"Hey," she said. "Be careful on this one, okay? It would be a waste if you got yourself killed over a guy like Mazzic."
"I'll do my best," he replied, and then was gone.
Maddoc came back in, barely noting Karrde's presence until he said, "Well, at least I don't have to worry about you running to dear old dad to tell on me…"
She looked up sharply. "Taken to listening at doors, have we?"
"I deal in information. It's an occupational hazard."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, my grandmother always said that eavesdroppers seldom hear anything they like..."
"On the contrary, I'm usually fairly pleased with the results."
"And this time?"
"Well," he said, favoring her with a bit of a smile, "I learned a thing or two about you." He paused. "That angle you're working is risky, you know, you might want to reconsider."
"Hmm, I'll take your concern under advisement." A pause. "What angle exactly do you think I'm working? I only ask because even I haven't quite figured out the way to attack this particular problem."
"Which problem is that?"
"You, assuming you don't get yourself killed first." She slapped the door release. "Try not take Aves down with you, whatever winds up happening.
"And now we're back to the angle…" he murmured. She frowned, then turned her back on him and left.
"You'd think at least these shit-kickers would know how to make a decent drink," Janson said, frowning first down at the drink in his hand, then around the decidedly rustic tavern in central Sashasa. "It's not like there's much else to do here... Seriously, if this is what passes for the big city in this backwater, I don't think I want to see the rest of it."
"Cool it, okay?" Tycho said, catching Wedge's eye from across the table and frowning. He looked back at Janson. "We're trying not to attract too much attention to ourselves, remember?"
"Go tell that to Hobbie..."
Hobbie was, in fact, attempting to impress a group of the local ladies at the bar – much to the apparent displeasure of a group of local gentlemen behind him.
"Yeah, this is not going to end well," Tycho said, massaging the bridge of his nose like he had a headache.
"It'll be okay," Wedge said quietly. "The people here are used to having military types around. This shouldn't seem too unusual." This system was supposedly neutral territory, one of the few, dangerous spots left in the galaxy where Republic and Imperial ships were both welcome. They tended to give each other wide berth, but things occasionally flared up. On this particular occasion, in about sixty hours and counting, what was going to flare up was them – assuming Hobbie didn't get them all tossed into the drunk tank first. "On the other hand, let's just hope none of the girls at the bar are married to any of those big fellas."
Tycho glanced around the place. "I don't think they make them in any other size out here." He paused. "And as long as we're hoping for things, let's hope Solo isn't completely off his nut on this one."
At a particularly memorable briefing a few weeks back, Han had said, "I don't understand why we can't just go through Ukio to get to the sector fleet..."
"Ukio is no-fly. The government there has made it very clear that they don't intend to take a side in this fight..."
Han leaned back, looking around at the assembled officers like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "So why exactly are we agreeing to play by their bullshit rules?"
"Because they're the leading producer of foodstuffs in the galaxy and a key point along a major trade route?"
Han snorted, waving a dismissive hand. "We might need them, but they need us, too. The Empire alone can't sustain their economy – not at this stage of the game. They have to trade with us, just like we have to trade with them."
"You really want to call their bluff on that?" Pash Cracken asked from the other end of the room. "I'm not saying I disagree... It's just that no one's been willing to risk it until now."
"I'm going to stop you right there, gentlemen," Bel Iblis cut in. "No decision on that point has been made yet..."
"Garm-"
"We'll take it under advisement," Bel Iblis had said, with a significant look at Han.
For his part, Han had flung himself into the chair beside Wedge, and grumbled under his breath, "No one ever listens to me. What's the point of being a general if no one ever listens?"
Someone must have listened to him, though, because here they were – about to start some serious shit with the Imperials, smack in the middle of the system, and possibly spark a major diplomatic incident.
The official orders had come through a few days before, but Han had left Wedge a personal message, too. "Look, pal…" He always knew he was in for trouble when Han started calling him 'pal' or 'kid' or 'buddy.' "Look, I know Bel Iblis put you in a hell of a spot in Abregado-rae, but we need you to give your buddy Aves a call. Find out what we can do for him, find out what he really needs right now… We want to offer him something he'll have a hard time saying no to."
Wedge had sent back a reply, promising to do his best, but privately wasn't all that confident. He felt really guilty about Abregado. To be honest, he felt pretty guilty about a lot of stuff where Aves was concerned. It went at least part of the way toward explaining why he'd been willing to go so far out of his way for Aves over the last year or so.
As far as the rest of the reasons went… Well, he was still trying to figure that out himself.
After Bilbringi, after Azorr, they'd found themselves back on Coruscant and in the middle of one hell of a mess. Wedge hadn't really needed to go, but had volunteered to escort Aves and his ship back to Coruscant. Tycho had side-eyed him at that decision, but hadn't said anything out loud.
"I owe him one," Wedge said anyway.
Tycho just shrugged. "Whatever you say."
"I kind of want to make sure Luke and the others are okay, too," he admitted, and some of the worry lines on Tycho's face smoothed out a bit.
"Yeah, okay. That's a good idea."
They'd hit the planet maybe six hours behind the team from Wayland to find a full security team waiting for them at the landing facility.
"What's with the escort?" he'd asked the major in charge of the team.
"No idea. All I know is the order came down from way the hell above any of our pay-grades." He gave Aves and the others a look. "Rumor is your friends there are mad, bad and dangerous to know."
"Says who?"
The major shrugged and ushered Aves and his people into a room just off the Council chambers. He stopped Wedge short, though. "The general wants to see you – not them, just you. They stay here."
The general hadn't been who Wedge had expected. Instead of Bel Iblis, he found Crix Madine waiting for him in one of the soundproof conference rooms normally reserved for top-secret briefings.
"Good to see you, sir," Wedge said. It had been a long time. Madine was usually stationed out at the other end of Republic space and rarely made it to the capital.
Madine smiled. "Likewise, Commander. I hear we have you and your boys to thank for the victory at Bilbringi."
"Well, we did have some help," Wedge said pointedly, his gaze flicking back at the door.
"Yeah, I guess you did," Madine said, looking a little uncomfortable. "We can deal with that later, though. Skywalker and Solo asked me to check in with you, make sure you were all right."
"I'm fine. Are Luke and Han okay? When we didn't hear any details about their mission, I assumed the worst."
"You're not too far off," Madine replied, and shared what little he knew. He'd been part of the detail that had picked the team up after they'd limped away from Wayland, with Karrde's ship in tow.
"What can I do?" Wedge asked.
"Not much now. They're all just being debriefed. Go get cleaned up, have some dinner. Don't go too far, though, in case we do need you."
Wedge emerged from the room to find Aves waiting for him in the wide corridor. None of the others were anywhere to be seen.
"Well, this isn't going to go down as one of my better days," Aves said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"You okay?"
"They let Karrde in to talk to us for a few minutes." He shook his head. "The conversation did not make me feel any better about our situation."
"But you're free to go, I assume? They're not planning on keeping you all here?"
"They seem to have forgiven Karrde for any liberties he might have taken with Republic funds." There was something in the silence though that told Wedge he wasn't sharing everything. "What did they tell you?"
"Not much. That Luke and Han led a team in to take out that crazy old Jedi, that Karrde and some of your people were with them, that it all went to hell."
"That's about the size of it." He paused. "Mara's dead. Karrde's playing it cool, as always, but I have a sense it's only a matter of time before it all catches up with him – and when it does…" He sagged back against the wall and ran a hand through his hair. "Your friend Solo came in and suggested we all get ourselves fed, and then settle in while they hash things out. So I figured as long as I'm free to wander around, we might as well grab a bite. Come on, I'll buy. I owe you a drink."
"That's not necessary..." It felt like about a million years since Wedge had last had a decent meal, but he didn't particularly want to intrude on Aves and his people.
"Ah, I see that I wasn't being clear. I really need a drink – and it's just sad to drink by myself."
Wedge shook his head. "Well, when you put it that way, how can I say no?"
"Now you're talking."
"There's a place just across the plaza from here. It's not the sort of place I'd normally go, but…"
Not his normal style was something of an understatement. The little bar was almost the exclusive province of politicians and bureaucrats, but he'd been there many times with Han and Luke – usually trailing after Leia and her fellow Councilors or maybe the occasional diplomat – and actually found it kind of enjoyable. It was decidedly fancier than he generally liked, but they had a selection of Corellian whiskeys and ales that you'd be hard-pressed to find outside the system itself.
"Wow," Aves said. "This is nicer than the Mumbri Storve, I'll give you that."
"It's not really my speed, either, I'll admit – but it's close by, which comes in handy more often than you'd think."
"Definitely a point in its favor." Aves frowned at the Bothans at the nearest table. "Not so sure about the crowd, though."
"Can I get you something to drink, Commander?" The regular bartender was an extremely fetching blonde, another reason he liked the place. She smiled at Aves. "And you brought a new friend…"
"You'd better believe it, Hanna. We're gonna need a couple shots of Black Bottle, no ice."
"Oh, it is a bad day," she said. "Crash your fighter again?"
"Hey, that only happened the one time…"
"One time that I know about…" She grinned at Wedge. "Two shots of Black Bottle, neat, coming right up."
After she left, Aves actually smiled for the first time all day. "She's flirting with you. You must be an excellent tipper."
"And you must be feeling a little less crappy, if you're back to busting my chops…"
"The promise of a hot meal and a cold drink is helping." Aves paused. "Though if the food is as fancy as the décor…"
"Hanna knows my tastes pretty well by now," he said, and sure enough, she brought them plates of something off-the-menu and hearty along with their whiskey.
"Huh," Aves said, not sounding quite as amused as he had before. "She really does like you."
"Maybe," Wedge said, and changed the subject. "You want to talk about what happened? Are your people going to be all right?"
"I don't know exactly what happened, but I've never seen Karrde so furious. He was hiding it pretty well, at least from people who don't know him as well as I do, but Mara-" He shook his head. "Hell, I still can't believe it."
"I heard they lost half the team before they were able to get the mountain locked down," Wedge said grimly, thinking about Lando Calrissian. Wedge hadn't know much else about what had gone down at that point – not that he ever found out too much, truth be told, even in the months that followed – but he'd heard from Madine that Calrissian hadn't made it back. He'd always considered the guy a friend. Wedge signaled for another round.
Aves watched him closely for a moment. "Are you okay?"
"A couple of the guys on that team were old friends. At least one of them didn't make it out..."
"Somebody you knew well?"
Wedge cracked a wry smile. "You go up against the Death Star with someone..."
"Aw, shit. I'm sorry to hear that."
Hanna brought their drinks and left immediately, sensing maybe that the conversation had gotten serious. Wedge said, "I only met Mara the one time. She seemed…"
"Like a challenge?" Aves laughed sharply. "I liked Mara..."
"But?"
"The situation was complicated... and, now that she's gone, I don't know if it will ever stop being complicated. Eventually, I think things would have run their course, but now…"
"Hey, Aves," someone said from behind them. It was Torve, looking very out of place against the background of political types. "Let's go..."
"What?"
"Our comms aren't working," he said grimly, "which is probably not an accident. Karrde sent me to get you. We've gotta get out. The Repubs..." He gave Wedge a dark look. "They cut us loose. We've got to get off-planet asap."
"You've gotta be kidding me," Aves said, looking floored.
"Maybe there's a mistake-" Wedge had begun, knowing in his gut there probably wasn't.
"No mistake. I heard it straight from your General Bel Iblis's mouth." Then, to Aves, "Karrde is, as you can probably imagine, absolutely fucking apoplectic."
"No doubt." Aves shook his head. "Nice repayment for Bilbringi. Fuck me." One of the Bothans looked up and blinked, radiating clear disapproval at the colorful language.
"You can say that again," Torve said. "We are royally screwed the second we leave the Core, but we're more immediately screwed if we don't get the hell out now." Torve, Aves had told Wedge later, had been one of the first of Karrde's people to do a runner after that. He'd been apologetic about it, but, unlike most of Karrde's other employees, Torve had been older, a family man, with a wife and a kid waiting for him on some nowhere planet on the Core-facing side of the Mid-Rim.
"Why the rush? They gonna arrest us?"
"I hope not, but..." He hesitated. "Karrde took a swing at Skywalker. Got him pretty good, too."
"Oh yeah? Some Jedi..."
"Is Luke okay?" Wedge asked, and they both gave him looks of disbelief mingled with disgust.
Torve ignored the question. "They made it pretty clear, though, that our presence isn't welcome any longer."
"Fantastic. So they're going to push us right out into Thrawn's territory, where he can kill us and save them the trouble." Aves threw a handful of coins on the bar and stood up. Torve was already headed for the door.
"Hey," Wedge said, catching Aves by the shoulder. "The way they're treating you guys... This is not okay with me, you know that. If there's ever anything I can do, I'm here. Just call."
He'd made good on that promise more than a few times since then, but he still felt pretty rotten about the whole thing.
"Hey, you! Don't I know you?" Hobbie was saying to someone at the bar, bringing Wedge's attention back to Ukio and the present.
"Sorry, friend, I think there's some mistake," said a very familiar voice.
"Hey," Tycho said, recognizing the speaker as well. "Isn't that...?"
"Aves?"
Aves turned then, seeing them all for the first time. "Of all the-" He looked thunderstruck. "What are you doing here?"
"My job." Wedge paused. "Should I even ask what you're doing here?"
"Probably not." He grinned at Wedge. "I assume the same goes for you?"
"Yeah," Wedge admitted. "It's probably better if neither of us share any details."
Aves, though, crossed the distance between them, pulled out a chair and took a seat at their table. "I will say this- if you're planning some trouble for our friends on that ISD up there, your timing couldn't be better," he said softly.
"You know I can't tell you for sure why we're here," Wedge said, thinking back to the Mumbri Storve, the first time, during the run-up to Bilbringi. That was really what had started all this… whatever it was between them.
"I know, I know." The server came over, but Aves waved him away. "There's a chance, though, that we could be useful to each other – or that we could royally screw each other over, depending on when this little shindig of yours is going to go down…"
"What are you asking me to do, exactly?" Wedge asked, very aware of the look Tycho was giving him.
"I'm asking you, if you can, not to do anything other than whatever you were planning to do anyway. I'm just asking you not to do it until a very specific time. Can you do that without getting into trouble?"
Wedge hesitated. "I- Maybe. I'm not sure I can make any promises, though."
"That's certainly nothing new," Aves said, sounding weary, sitting back and looking at Wedge like this was just the latest in a long line of disappointments. "You owe me one, Wedge. Give it more than just a try, okay?"
"Okay, okay," Wedge said, with a sinking feeling. "I promise I'll try."
"Imperial Star Destroyer Valiant, this is Shuttle 552-69 Alpha. Do you copy?" Corvis said into the comm, as the bulk of the big ship drifted closer to them.
"Shuttle 552-69 Alpha, we copy. Transmit your identification code, please."
Corvis made a face and keyed in the code.
"Proceed on your present course." The reply came back crisply and nearly immediately, so the code must have worked.
"Valiant, we have orders from the Chimaera. We'd like to transmit those for review by your captain asap."
"Go ahead, Shuttle."
Corvis shut down the comm and pulled up their beautifully faked orders. "Here goes," he said, with a look back at Aves, who nodded.
Aves had been looking grim all day, and wasn't saying much. Karrde knew he thought this was a terrible idea, but he was a loyal enough employee – and, if Karrde was being honest with himself, a loyal enough friend – that he wasn't going to try and derail something Karrde felt this strongly about.
As they approached the Valiant's hangar bay, Karrde found himself suddenly overwhelmed with memories of the last time he'd been on one of these ships. He'd known this was going to happen, had braced for it, but it didn't really make it all that much easier: the Chimaera, and Mara, and Skywalker – it always seemed to come back to Skywalker, somehow, when all was said and done. It always came back to the three of them, and all those things none of them had ever quite managed to say out loud, the things they'd all pretended weren't happening until it was way too late.
In that moment, though, his focus had been Mara – Mara and all those secrets and half-truths, all those hints about who she really was and how easily she'd played him. His Imperial hosts had kept him up for days, waking him every time he'd managed to doze, dangling some new piece of information about her past or the fate of his other people, giving him just enough to work on his thoughts but never a full to answer to any of his questions. It was mostly about Mara, though they'd occasionally let slip something about Aves, implying he'd been captured or killed. Thrawn, though, had figured out early on that Mara was Karrde's real weak spot. He'd slipped up on Myrkr, when he'd thought she'd been lost over the forest during that desperate chase with Skywalker, and Thrawn had appeared determined to use the knowledge to its full advantage.
When Mara and Skywalker had finally come to get him, Karrde had been nearing a breaking point, though you wouldn't have been able to tell from the outside. He hid it well. He'd been exhausted, though, raw and raging, just spoiling for a fight.
Mara had been waiting for the pair of them when they emerged from the detention area, pale and looking as though she hadn't slept in days either. She wouldn't quite meet his eye, she just said, "We need to get moving."
Skywalker looked like he wanted to say something, to fix it all somehow, but he must have read something in the silence between them that made him keep his mouth shut. Mara might not have been able to tell how close Karrde was to the edge, but Skywalker most definitely could.
"Hey," Skywalker said instead, "we're through the hard part, right? The rest of this should be relatively easy."
Of course it wasn't. They'd ended up in the access tunnels that served the turbolift system as alarms blared around them, Mara leading the way to a storage room where she thought she'd be able to access the main computer.
"Wait," Skywalker said, catching her by the arm. "I'll check it out first."
Mara looked at him sharply, as though she intended to protest, but something nonverbal passed between them and she relented. She yanked her arm out of his grasp, though, and shot a dirty look at the back of his head as he brushed past her and ducked into the storage room.
The moment they were alone, her body language changed.
"Karrde," she began softly, "I want to explain-"
"I don't need your explanations," he replied, trying to hold all his built-up frustration in check and not really succeeding. "I've finally got you figured out. Always running to daddy for help – is that it, Mara?"
She flinched, looking at him like he'd hit her. "What?"
"You went to Thrawn directly to try and work some deal, then ran straight to Skywalker for help when that fell apart. Not to Aves, or to Billey or any of our other allies. You found the two most powerful men in the mix and tried to work them both from different angles. I'd have to be blind not to see it." By implication, he'd have to be blind not to see that she was doing the same thing with him. She didn't say anything in reply, and wouldn't quite look directly at him. "I had a lot of time in there to think, to try and puzzle you out. You learned early, didn't you? Maybe from your real father, or someone close enough to make no difference... Who was he? A military man? Maybe a general? An admiral?"
"Stop it," she said finally, looking quietly desperate. "Please."
"One of the Emperor's advisers?" he said, pressing on. A horrible thought occurred to him. "The Emperor himself, maybe?"
She closed her eyes to avoid looking at him, and he knew he'd got it right.
"Damn it, Mara." He'd been a complete fool. "Me, Thrawn, now Skywalker... You're just a lost little girl, trying to fill that empty space."
"You bastard," she said, opening her eyes, looking more angry than hurt. "Like you're any different. You need to control everything, you…"
What else he was, Karrde never found out, because Skywalker chose that moment to return. He cast a questioning glance in their direction, but must have decided it wasn't the right time to pry.
"Regardless," Karrde said, not looking at either of them, "we have more pressing matters to deal with at the moment."
Not the least of which was the fact that Thrawn, with typical – and typically maddening – near-prescience, had shut down the ship's computer and effectively removed their main advantage. There'd been nothing for it but to crawl through the lift tunnels in search of somewhere they could steal a ship. The maze of tunnels banked and dropped away at dizzying angles, crisscrossing the whole ship.
"We need to go down first," Mara said. "We'll have to head down two levels, then across and back up. If the lifts are working again by then, we can switch to the service lift and just head straight in to one of the storage areas."
Karrde looked down the tunnel, trying to suppress a sudden wave of vertigo. He chanced a glance to either side: neither Mara nor Skywalker appeared fazed in the least. It made sense, he supposed. They were both trained as fighter pilots, but also had that reckless disregard for their own well-being that came from being told, from an early age, that their own lives were less important than some big ideal. Karrde had recognized it in Skywalker right off the bat, but now that he knew more about where Mara came from, he could see it in her, too.
He managed fairly well, despite the heights, though he couldn't really hide his discomfort from either of them. Skywalker, being Skywalker, knew exactly what Karrde was thinking. Mara frowned at him a couple times, too, and finally said, "Breathe. It will help."
He didn't answer her, but he did take a deep breath.
Finally, they stood below a steep ledge that was supposedly the last level they needed to scale to get to the vehicle storage levels.
"I know you don't love all this, but you ought to go first." Skywalker smiled tightly at Karrde. "I can get you up there easily. Give me your foot and then I can help you the rest of the way."
Karrde made it to the ledge, but in the grip of what felt uncomfortably like a giant invisible hand. Skywalker started to help Mara up, too, but she shook him off.
"Get off me, Skywalker," she snapped, and then wouldn't take Karrde's hand either when it was offered. Instead, she grabbed one of the supports and pulled herself up, hand over hand.
"Mara-"
"I'm fine," she bit out, and turned her back on him as she moved out of the way while Skywalker jumped easily up as well.
They made it down to the deep storage area with only a few minor incidents. Once they'd gotten there, though, the whole plan had threatened to fall apart. For one thing, Skywalker had wanted to go back for that damned ship of Solo's once he realized it was there, but had been overruled by the both of them.
"No," Mara said, giving Skywalker a look. "We're here now. Pick from what we have in front of us."
"Agreed," Karrde said, feeling immeasurably better now that they were back on relatively solid ground. "Though the pickings are a bit slim, aren't they? Heavy transport?" he suggested, indicating a squat ship with thick armor and a decent weapons array at the rear.
"Steers like shit," Mara pointed out.
"But you know how to fly one?"
"I can fly anything, remember?" she said, meeting his eye for the first time since they'd left the lift tunnels, still sounding a little defiant, but some of the anger had begun to leave her voice.
"So you've told me." He turned to Skywalker. "And from what I hear you're a decent shot…"
"So I've been told," Skywalker replied, matching Karrde's dry humor. "I can't provide any references, though, since they're largely no longer with us."
"You take the guns, then. Mara and I will see if we can get this thing to lightspeed before any fighters have a chance to catch up to us. Hopefully, we won't need your legendary aim, but be ready just in case…"
They did, in fact, have a couple close shaves on their way out. They made it to hyperspace relatively unscathed, though, thanks largely to Skywalker's decidedly not exaggerated skills. Once the immediate threat had disappeared behind them, though, a very awkward silence descended in the cockpit.
"You guys okay down there?" Skywalker said over the intercom.
Mara chanced a quick glance in Karrde's direction, but didn't answer.
"We're just fine, Skywalker. Why don't you come on down from there and we can have a little chat about that matter I mentioned earlier."
"I have to admit, I'm curious..." he said, and signed off.
Mara threw another glance at Karrde, her expression unreadable, unstrapping herself from the co-pilot's chair and walking out without a word.
Skywalker looked for Mara immediately on his entrance, his eyes flicking to the chair she'd just abandoned, then seeming to focus on something Karrde couldn't see. Apparently, he found her, doing whatever Jedi thing he did, and was satisfied that she was all right for the moment.
His eyes found Karrde's then, and he said, "She didn't betray you, you know."
"You must be using some definition of 'betrayal' I'm not familiar with yet," he'd replied coolly, but then relented after a moment. "I know she didn't do it on purpose, if only because our Imperial friends tried so damned hard to make me think she did. She put us all in harm's way, though, because of things in her past she decided not to disclose."
Skywalker twitched slightly at that – he must, Karrde thought, be absolutely terrible at cards. So Skywalker knew all about it already.
"The same could be said about you," Mara said, walking back into the cockpit. From the look on her face, she'd heard the whole exchange. "Weren't you about to tell him why Thrawn really wants you so badly?"
"I was, as a matter of fact." He let a moment of dangerous silence hang between them. "I did wonder if you were going to object, though."
"It's your information, do with it as you please." She paused, her silence equally dangerous. "After all, as you keep reminding me, you're the boss."
Somehow, after everything – after lying to him for months, after handing him over to Thrawn – she still managed to make him feel like the asshole in the whole affair.
"I am the boss, and it's my call," he said, turning away from her and proceeding to give Skywalker the entire story of how he'd stumbled across the Katana ships all those years ago. He could feel her glaring at the back of his head the whole time, though.
"I'll be damned," Skywalker said when Karrde had finished, sounding, for the first time since he'd met the man, like the backcountry farm kid he'd supposedly been before joining the Alliance.
"Assuming we can get your people to make the smart move on this, it will give you a distinct strategic advantage."
They'd reviewed strategy a while longer before Skywalker left, still shaking his head, to rummage through whatever supplies there were in the galley.
Mara moved to follow Skywalker out, but Karrde grabbed her briefly by the arm. "A moment, Mara," he said as the door closed.
She crossed her arms, looking half-defiant and half-guilty.
"Skywalker knows all about your past, doesn't he? I guess the only question is whether he figured it out himself or whether you told him…"
"I did tell him." Guilt began to win out on her face, tinged with regret.
"You told him – him, but not me," Karrde said, starting to lose hold of his anger himself.
"He's involved," she said, looking helpless, "and you're not."
"How, Mara? How does this involve him?"
"I'm- I'm supposed to kill him."
"Yet here we are, and he still seems to be very much alive."
"For you," she said. "He's alive because of you. You asked me to let him go on Myrkr, and I did. He's alive now because I needed his help to save you."
"Hmm," he said in return. "I think you actually believe that. It might even be mostly true."
It had been a hell of a long trip to Coruscant, with the three of them trying, as politely as possible, to avoid each other in a confined space. When they'd gotten back, it had taken all of Karrde's will not to take all his frustrations out on the New Republic's bumbling politicians.
"You're up, boss," Aves said, bringing him back to the present. The shuttle settled to the deck in the Valiant's bay, and Karrde shook himself as though he could shake off the weight of those memories. He needed to focus on the task at hand.
There was a contingent of security officers waiting for them when they emerged, all standing at attention with parade ground precision. A lot of things could be said about Thrawn, but he ran a tight ship (or ships, as the case may have been).
"Welcome aboard, Commander-"
"Commander Sayler," Karrde said, "and thank you. This is my 2IC, Lt. Commander Halsey." He indicated Aves, who was following Imperial protocols flawlessly. Maddoc was right; he really did blend in just fine. It made Karrde wonder what might have happened to the younger man if things had been different. Once, a long time back, Aves had shared, over a particularly nice bottle of wine, that his parents had always intended him to go to the academy and into the fleet. He'd stopped short, though, of sharing what had gone wrong with that plan.
"Lt. Commander Geen, ship security," the officer in charge said by way of introduction. "Captain Conyers received the prisoner transfer orders from the Grand Admiral this morning: six prisoners for transfer to the Chimaera, via the Majestic. We'd wondered when the Grand Admiral was going to come for them." He checked the datapad. "Everything appears to be in order on your end, so if you'll just follow me…" He took off at a fast clip and Karrde followed, trying not to think about all the millions of ways this could go wrong. He hoped sincerely that Maddoc didn't turn out to be right about anything else.
"I'm not sure what Grand Admiral Thrawn expects to get out of small-time fringe types like these, but knowing him..." Geen was saying as they walked.
"I think we've all learned not to second-guess the Grand Admiral," Karrde said easily, and the assembled officers – Karrde's men included – smiled. It was true and they all knew it, albeit for different reasons.
"I'll say."
The detention area on the Valiant was nearly identical to the one on the Chimaera, though decidedly smaller in scale. If things really went to hell, Karrde reflected, they could always make their escape via the garbage chute, though those weren't odds he'd really like to take twice, despite the fact that Skywalker had done it.
The Valiant's security team largely ceded command of the situation to Karrde and his group, though, so there wasn't too much chance they'd find themselves in a firefight. If anything, Geen and his men seemed bored, stuck out here in the Ukio system with nothing to do. Back in Sashasa, Aves had hinted broadly that that was about to change. Hopefully, Aves's Republic friends would keep their word and save whatever it was they had up their sleeve for after they'd completed the task at hand.
The door to two detention cells slid open, revealing Mazzic and his crew, packed in three to a cell.
Aves took charge of Mazzic, who whispered, just loud enough for Aves and Karrde to hear but no one else, "I don't believe it."
"Keep it quiet for now, won't you?" Aves said out of the corner of his mouth.
"That's about enough talk out of you," Karrde said. "Get some binders on him… and don't be afraid to gag him if he won't shut up."
"Huh," Geen said, making a note on his datapad, but not really paying attention to the scene in front of him. "Funny, he's said barely a word to us the whole time he's been here." He looked up and gave Karrde a grin. "Maybe the Grand Admiral's reputation precedes him."
And that was that. They loaded Mazzic and his crew into the shuttle, put the appropriate checks into the form on Geen's datapad, and they were on their way.
"You son of a bitch," Mazzic said happily to Karrde as soon as they'd cleared the Valiant's bay. "You came to get us – and looking like a damned Imperial captain, no less. If Aves here hadn't been with you, I don't think I would have known-"
"Uh, boss?" Corvis said. "We're getting a message from the ISD – and we're still within tractor beam range."
"Shuttle 552-69 Alpha, we are requesting that you return to the landing bay immediately..."
"Uh-oh."
"Do you suppose they decided to confirm that order with Thrawn, after all?" Aves said, trying very hard to keep the I-told-you-so out of his voice.
"Answer them," Karrde said to Corvis, ignoring Aves for the moment. "Act like everything is fine. Curious, not suspicious. Not panicked."
"We read you Valiant," Corvis said, with just the right blend of curiosity and annoyance. "Are you picking up something our sensors aren't reading? We're doing just fine out here-"
Then, without warning, the whole scene went straight to hell. The Valiant's aft turbolaser battery exploded in a shower of sparks as a wing of Republic fighters screamed down the length of the big ship.
Aves laughed and slapped Karrde, a little too roughly, on the shoulder. "That would be the little surprise I mentioned earlier," he said, "and not a moment too soon. I knew I could count on Wedge."
He reached over and fiddled with the comm, surfing through the channels, until he got, "…pick up, damn it. Aves, it's Wedge. I know you use this channel, so pick up already…"
"Wedge? I'm here. Nice fireworks out there. That your doing?"
"Gotta give Tycho the credit for that one. I'll see what I can do about upping the ante. I wouldn't stick around for the whole show, though, if I were you…"
"No need to worry about that. We're hauling ass out of here." There was a long pause. "Hey, thanks."
"No problem. You can buy me a drink the next time I see you. Usual time, usual place?"
"Sure, sure. I'll see you there."
"Friends in high places, I see," Mazzic said, once Aves had closed down the comm. "That works out nicely."
"I don't know about high places," Aves replied. "But it is nice to have some friends with extra firepower – lucky for you, too."
They cleared the Valiant's tractor beam range in what had to be record time and Corvis, beads of sweat on his brow, pulled the hyperspace levers with an audible sigh of relief.
Mazzic was still looking at Aves thoughtfully as the sky outside began to change. "That your buddy from back on Azorr?"
"Yeah, it is."
"Huh."
Aves actually looked a little uncomfortable. "What?"
"Interesting that he's stuck around, is all."
"Unlike you and pretty much everyone else?" Aves said coldly.
"Hey, now…"
Karrde figured it was time to intervene. "Now's not the time, Aves." He looked to Mazzic. "Why'd the Empire go after you, anyway?"
"They thought I was you," Mazzic said. "Isn't that a kick in the ass?"
"And not the first time it's happened, either," Karrde replied, thinking about the old days.
"Too handsome for our own good." Mazzic grinned, and Aves rolled his eyes. "Once they figured out I wasn't you, they tried to get me to flip on you."
"Seventy-five thousand is an awful lot of money..." Karrde said. Aves blinked at that, the look on his face very clearly showing that he was going to have a thing or two to say to Karrde about his decision not to share that information right away.
Mazzic smiled grimly. "A few more days in there and I might have considered it, honestly."
"I won't hold it against you," he replied as the stars outside the ship turned bright white and blurred into the familiar lines of hyperspace.
"Hey," Mazzic said, "do you think maybe someone can finally take these binders off?"
"Today's a good day," Han said, aiming his behind into the most comfortable chair in Bel Iblis's office, only to change trajectory at the last moment under the older man's decidedly cool gaze. "Any day that we can give Thrawn a nice big black eye is a good day," he finished, taking the second-most comfortable chair instead.
Bel Iblis watched him in silence a moment longer and, when Han did not put his feet up on the desk, said, "I take it the Ukio operation went well? I've just seen the reports start to come through."
"Wedge sent me a little personal goodwill message from the front lines. The Imperials ran for the other side of the line, tail between their legs. They were caught completely flat-footed." Han had a feeling he was mixing up his metaphors, but was in a good enough mood that he decided not to care.
"Excellent…"
"There was one small complication, though…"
"Which was?"
"Karrde and his people were in the system, running some kind of rescue op. Wedge had to tread very carefully."
"Hmm," Bel Iblis said, looking thoughtful.
"What?"
Bel Iblis sighed. "I'm beginning to fear that the soft approach isn't going to work there. We may just have to hunt Karrde down and bring him in."
Knowing Karrde as well as he did, Han couldn't imagine a way that particular scenario ended well for anyone. "There might be another way."
Bel Iblis raised an eyebrow.
"We have something I think Karrde might want – only he doesn't know we have it... and I don't know if we can actually lay our hands on it."
"My faith in your plan is beginning to flag, Solo..."
"Intelligence is sitting on it. They wouldn't let me near it before, but now we have a fairly compelling reason to ask for it."
Bel Iblis folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the desk, as casual as Han had ever seen him. "I'm listening."
"Mara-" It had been a good long while since he'd said that name aloud. He shook himself, like he could shake off the weight of those memories. "Mara left a whole box of stuff for Karrde. She wanted him to have it, but we- Well, Intelligence had other plans."
"And you think he would want it?"
"Are you kidding me? Karrde's not especially predictable, but when it comes to Mara…"
"If that's the case, why haven't you tried this move before now?"
Han shrugged. "It's a shitty thing to do, especially to someone like Karrde, somebody who used to be an ally."
"It's more than that, isn't it?" Bel Iblis said shrewdly.
"Yeah, it's more than that." He hesitated. "I have no idea what all she left. Like I said, the Intelligence guys sealed it all up and wouldn't let anyone touch it. It could easily blow up in our faces." His thoughts drifted to the Katana battle and to Wayland and everything that had happened there. Yeah, it could blow up, all right – on more people than just Han himself.
Wayland had truly been a screw-up of epic proportions. Han had been on the bad end of more than a few plans in his day, but the Wayland op topped a pretty impressive list of failures, foolhardy schemes and just plain bad luck. The plan itself had been a gamble from the get-go, but a calculated one. It had seemed, at first, like the right call – dangerous, definitely not guaranteed to succeed – but their best chance to hit Thrawn right where it hurt.
That, at least, they'd been able to do. The price they'd paid, though, was the part that still kept Han up nights.
In fairness to himself, his plan had been a halfway decent one on the face of it. He simply hadn't factored in all the variables. He'd known Mara was a potential problem, an unknown quantity. He'd figured early on that if anything went wrong, it would likely be because of her. He'd been right about that; he just hadn't been right about how.
Han had wanted to leave her behind with the ship – preferably bound to a chair or locked in the hold. Luke wouldn't hear of it, though – and that right there should have been the first big warning sign. The girl had barely been stable on her best days, let alone on a planet surrounded by echoes of the Emperor and with a crazy old Jedi clone whispering in her ear the whole time. Luke hadn't fared much better, to be honest. Halfway to the mountain, he'd begun to look pale and haunted, had volunteered for extra guard duty at night since he wasn't sleeping much anyway.
"Are you all right?" Han asked him, in between checking sensor read-outs.
"I'm all right," Luke began. "It's just…"
"This place," Mara said, with a shudder.
Luke gave her a look that, in retrospect, Han should have known immediately for what it was. In the moment, though, he'd been focused on the task at hand.
"I know, Mara," Luke said, still watching her. "I feel it, too."
Luke's response to all the bad Jedi-fu flying around that place had been, against Han's better judgment, to start teaching Mara to improve her Jedi skills.
"You think that's such a great idea?" Han asked, frowning at Mara's silhouette, outlined sharply against the setting sun.
Luke shrugged. "It seems like the right thing to do."
"Right and smart are two different things…" Han began, but they'd been through it all before and he knew he wasn't going to get anywhere.
Luke shrugged again and went to sit beside Mara in the fading light. "Try to clear your mind of distractions…"
"It's a little crowded in here," she said, trying for dry humor and failing.
From that point on, Luke worked with her, finding an hour or two a day, sometimes right in their camp, other times – depending on the terrain – finding a little clearing or grove where they could go for quiet and a minimum of distractions. They fell into such a natural pattern that Han didn't even really notice it until it was disrupted.
They'd been maybe a day or two from the mountain when Han noticed the change. Abruptly, whatever training Luke had been doing came to an end – and whenever Mara was nearby, Luke wouldn't quite meet anyone's gaze. He watched her, though, mostly while she wasn't looking. For her part, Mara looked like she was viewing the action from a few thousand light years and possibly a couple decades away. Han had a few theories on what was going on there – in addition, of course, to the garden variety Jedi bad ju-ju – and none of them were particularly pleasant.
His suspicions were confirmed on the way into Mount Tantiss, which was rotten timing and totally par for the course. Luke and Mara were up near the intake vents, supposedly figuring out the way in. The scene Han very nearly blundered straight into, though, was something entirely different. He stopped short, just out of sight, beyond a line of trees.
"He can't make you do that," Luke was saying. He was facing Mara, very little space between them.
"Are you sure about that? Do you really know for sure? He said he saw me kneeling before him – that doesn't leave a whole lot of room for interpretation…"
He hesitated, not answering her for a long moment.
"Lie to me," she said, reaching out and taking his hand. "It's what I want. I've spent most of my life believing comfortable lies."
He gazed at her, sympathy and something else warring on his face, and for once she actually looked back at him. "Okay, all right," he said, still holding her hand. "He can't do that."
"And if you're wrong," she said, their eyes locking, "I'd rather die than let him force me. You understand?"
"He can't force you," Luke said again.
She started to protest. "Please... Luke, please just promise."
Something shifted in his expression when she said his name, a look that to Han meant nothing but trouble, and said, "He can't, but even if he can... Either way, I won't let it happen. No matter what, I promise." She watched him closely for a moment, then nodded. There was another long pause. "I trust you'll do the same for me?"
"Don't give me an opening, Skywalker," she said, looking away again, dropping his hand. "I might jump the gun, you know."
"You won't."
Any second they were going to tumble to the fact that Han was there, so he started back slowly the way he'd come, intending to find Lando and Chewie and head back up there with some strength in numbers.
"I might. You can't trust me. I've already proven that you can't…" There was a long moment of silence, then she said, "Don't. What happened before was a one-time deal, okay?" Han picked up the pace. He really, really wanted to know as few details about this as possible. "At least-" She faltered. "At least, until all this is over and we can figure some things out. Please?"
He couldn't quite hear Luke's response, the words indistinct, but the tone unmistakable. He didn't sound particularly happy.
The whole plan had been a complete clusterfuck and getting worse every minute.
Later, as they were making their way into the air duct system, he said quietly to Luke, "You going to be able to handle this all right?"
"I've got it under control." Luke hadn't lied to Han in a very long time, but he could still spot it easily.
"Sure, buddy. But what about your girlfriend back there?"
Luke flinched at that. "Leave it alone, Han."
"Fat chance. You two are free to make whatever bad decisions you want on your own time, but right now everything you do affects the rest of us – especially the two of you." He looked hard at Luke. "That girl is two lightyears short of a parsec, you read me? You keep a leash on her, or I will."
"Han, we've got to see this through…" Luke began, which wasn't at all the answer Han wanted.
So, a few minutes later, he fell into step beside Mara. "Hold it together, okay, kid?"
She turned to him, moving slowly, blinking as though she had to concentrate to focus on what he was saying. "It's not like I'm not trying," she replied shortly, then lapsed into silence again.
"Hey-"
"Can I ask a favor?" she said without warning.
"Yeah, what's that?"
"If I don't…" She hesitated, her expression shifting just perceptibly from sad to scared and back again. "I left some things, for Karrde, just in case. If you can, will you make sure he gets them?"
"Hey." He forced a nonchalant grin. "That's not going to be necessary."
"Maybe not, but just in case. It's important."
"Okay, okay."
"Thank you," she said sincerely, looking him in the eye, and for the first time he felt like maybe he was getting a glimpse at who she really was underneath it all.
He'd promised, but hadn't been able to make good on it. Palace Security had already swept in and grabbed all her stuff before they'd ever made it back to Coruscant, let alone before Han could give it to Karrde. Karrde was a weird guy. He'd been weird about Mara, and now he was especially weird about Luke. It wasn't all that surprising. It had been pretty obvious to Han that something had been going on all fronts there, even before things had all gone to hell. What a mess, even now.
"I think it's worth the risk," he said slowly, willing himself back to the present. "I can make the offer, set up a meet. Just me, though, with maybe Page or one of his guys for some back-up." He grinned. "No offense, but Karrde thinks you're an asshole."
"So I hear," Bel Iblis replied dryly. "What's the best case scenario here, though? I don't want to take this gamble blindly."
"The reward is obvious – it might get him to agree to sit down and talk with us."
"And the risk?"
"If it does blow up," Han said, "we might have to shut Karrde up. We might have to make a bad deal."
"I don't particularly like bargaining with my back against the wall..."
"Well, how about this? Let's take a look at what Intelligence has got first, and decide our next move from there."
"Usual time, usual place," Aves said, walking into the alley behind the Mumbri Storve cantina. "Think maybe we can actually go inside and have a drink for once?"
"I'd like that," Wedge said. He was leaning up against the wall in Aves's usual spot. "After last time, I was afraid we'd never get to share a friendly drink again."
"Well, maybe if you'd said you were sorry…"
"I did say I was sorry," Wedge said, extending a hand for Aves to shake. "Plus, I saved your ass – again. How else am I supposed to make it up to you?" He pulled Aves from the handshake into a kind of brotherly embrace, and Aves just completely caved.
"Damn it, Wedge," he said, hugging him back.
"Next time I'll just let the Imperials capture you then, is that it?"
"I owe you," he said, releasing Wedge. "I do."
"Does that mean I'm forgiven for Abregado?"
Aves hesitated. "I wasn't really mad about that. I was-" Hurt, a little heartbroken – a whole bunch of things that weren't entirely appropriate to feel about someone who was supposedly just a friend.
"You thought I screwed you over, I get it."
"That's one way of putting it."
Wedge grinned. "Buy you a drink?"
"Sure," Aves said, putting a hand on Wedge's shoulder and steering him toward the entrance of the cantina. "I'd really like that."
"I guess," Mazzic said conversationally, setting a bottle of whiskey on the table between them, "it goes without saying that I owe you one."
"Not at all," Karrde replied, barely looking up from the balance sheet he'd been staring at for the better part of the night. "This was simply repayment in kind. You warned me about Thrawn and put yourself at risk to do so."
They were in a sort of makeshift common area in a little inn just outside the capital of a planet three systems over from Ukio, letting the dust from the Republic's attack on the Imperial sector fleet settle down a bit before moving on to drop Mazzic's group off. Karrde had had Maddoc pull the rest of his own people out of their current base and head to a more permanent location where they'd all regroup once this task was finished.
"Sure," Mazzic said, pouring two very hearty glasses. Karrde held up a hand, though, and Mazzic knocked a couple fingers from Karrde's glass into his own. "But walking straight into an Imperial detention center to get me and my people – especially with the size of the price on your head – goes way beyond what you might have owed me for that."
"Well, just keep the gesture in mind in the future then, in case you're ever in the position to do me another favor."
"I won't forget it. That's a promise." There was an extended pause. "I'm sorry you're in the shit," he said, looking like he really meant it. "I'm sorry about your girl, too."
He clapped Karrde on the shoulder and took off, taking the bottle of whiskey with him. That was probably better. Karrde's thoughts had been dark enough these past few days, the weight of memory on him, and it had only gotten worse once they'd gotten out of Ukio. Here they had plenty of time to lay low – and plenty of time to think. His thoughts kept drifting back to the Chimaera, to Coruscant, to that doomed, futile race for the Katana fleet.
Then they hadn't had the luxury of downtime. He'd gone straight from the landing facility on Coruscant to a meeting room lousy with Republic leaders, most of whom hadn't been too interested in hearing what he had to say – for a variety of reasons.
He'd kept Mara apart from the whole proceeding, sending her, quite literally, to her room and telling her to stay there until he told her otherwise. She'd nodded, hadn't put up a fight, most of her anger cooled by that point. Most of his had, too, truth be told. He was wary, though, not quite sure where things stood, or what she might do in front of an audience. The last thing they'd needed was for anyone in the Republic to find out what she'd been to the Emperor – make that anyone else in the Republic, he'd corrected himself.
Skywalker had sat beside him in the meeting room and, reading his mood, said softly, "That was the right call. Coming back here, especially after everything that's happened, has to be tough for her. Give her a little time to calm down, to find some balance."
"I'm so glad you approve," he said, but the retort had been reflexive, without a lot of fire behind it, and it was clear Skywalker knew it.
The meeting had been just short of useless, which didn't seem to particularly surprise Skywalker or his sister, who Karrde found out later had their own plans for dealing with the situation. It had surprised Karrde, though, and that was a fairly unusual occurrence. He'd hedged his bets anyway and had sent word on to Aves to get there ahead of the Republic teams, taking the risk that one of Ghent's typically brilliant encrypts would protect the Katana information from any prying eyes. He knew he should have sent Mara to hand-deliver the location, but he couldn't quite shake his renewed misgivings about trusting her – no matter what she said, no matter what Skywalker said. He couldn't shake the thought that she might simply take the information and drop off the map, out of his life, in one final and spectacular act of betrayal. He didn't necessarily believe she'd do it, but he wasn't as certain as he once would have been that she wouldn't, either.
Their hosts had put them in separate rooms, albeit separate rooms in with a connecting door, as though unsure quite what to make of them or exactly what their relationship was – to each other or to the Republic.
They weren't, Karrde had been forced to admit, the only ones.
He'd gone to Mara's room first, expecting to find her waiting for him, only she hadn't been there. She'd been in his room instead, sitting cross-legged on his bed, her attention focused on something beyond the wide window.
"They don't believe you," she said before he had a chance to speak.
"Some of them do." He closed the door behind him. "The rest are just playing politics. Whether or not they believe me doesn't really matter in that case."
She watched him, searching for something in his face, as he crossed the room.
"I need you to go to Aves," he said, trying to ignore her gaze. "I've got him moving every ship we have to those coordinates."
She still looked like she was trying to find something in his expression, but she nodded and moved to leave.
"I need you to go…" He caught her by the wrist. "But later." He didn't want her to have too much of a head-start on Aves or Skywalker's team, just in case his worst suspicions happened to be right. And, he had to admit, part of him wanted an explanation from her.
Her eyes flicked over his face again, and she pulled back a little. He still had hold of her wrist, though, so she couldn't go far.
"Karrde-" She tried, a little half-heartedly, to tug out of his grasp.
"I thought you wanted to talk. I thought you wanted to explain."
"And you said you didn't want to hear any explanations."
"We did have more pressing concerns at the time."
Somehow they'd drifted closer to the bed.
"I screwed up," she said. "I admit that. It was a stupid mistake, but I didn't sell you out. I need you to believe that."
This close he could feel her trembling, could hear the slight hitch in her breath. The thought occurred again that she might still be playing him. "So that's your explanation? That it was all a big mistake?"
"I took Thrawn at his word. There was a time when the word of an Imperial Grand Admiral would have meant something-"
"Oh yes, the good old days. Let's talk about those."
"What do you want to know?"
That caught him off-guard. He'd been expecting more evasions, more declarations that she wouldn't share anything about her past, that he didn't need to know.
"So any question I ask, you'll answer?"
She hesitated a little, but forced a nod.
"Why? Why now?"
"I need you to trust me again. If this is what it takes, then so be it."
He let go of her wrist. That hadn't been the answer he'd expected. "Mara-"
"You don't trust people, but you trusted me. I want you to trust me." She blinked, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Another blink, and they were gone.
If she was still playing him, she was very, very good at it.
"It's not that easy," he said.
"I need-" she began, then stopped, closing her eyes.
"Then tell me. All of it, even the parts you haven't told Skywalker." There was a long moment of silence, while he waited for her to say something.
"This isn't easy for me..." She blinked again, like she was still fighting tears.
"If it was easy, I wouldn't be asking for it."
She closed her eyes again, and when she opened them, it appeared she'd come to a decision. "I don't know exactly how he found me," she said, looking like she was staring at something far away. Karrde didn't have to ask who 'he' was. "I guess it doesn't matter, but I have wondered occasionally... He found me, and then he came and took me away. I was very young, so I don't really remember much."
"What about your real parents?" She just shrugged and left it to him to fill in the ugly blanks.
"He always said he chose me because I was special. Everyone else said it, too, and I believed it." She took a breath. "I guess I was special. Not as much as I imagined, but special enough."
"Special how?"
"I could hear him, from anywhere in the galaxy. I was trained to do whatever he asked of me."
"You were more than just a courier, though..."
She flinched slightly at that, which he didn't completely understand, but she said, "I thought so, whether it was true or not. He treated me like..." She swallowed hard. "He treated me like a daughter." Then, "That sounds so stupid out loud."
Karrde could only imagine how a man like Palpatine would have treated his daughter, particularly one who wasn't his by blood, but didn't say so.
"Whatever the truth actually was, whatever it still is, I think I needed to believe it to be able to do the things he asked me to do – and I did everything he ever asked." She looked him in the eye for the first time. "Are you going to ask me what he made me do?"
"No." He took her by the wrists again, gently this time, and kissed her very softly on the mouth.
"What are you doing?"
"Forgetting about all this."
She looked down. "But you said it yourself, it's not that easy."
"It's not, but just for right now, let's pretend it is."
"I'm not very good at pretending," she said, but she let him kiss her anyway, her hands still trembling a little when they came to rest on his shoulders.
She kissed him back hard then, hands dropping to his waist, pulling his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, falling into their usual patterns. It didn't feel right, though, it felt like something very fundamental had suddenly shifted between them.
"Stop," he said, gently pushing her away. "Stop. Slow down."
She pulled away even further, putting space between them and looking up at him as though she had to concentrate to figure out where he was going with this. Whatever she read there made her flinch again, must have hurt her in some mysterious way he'd never understand. That had been, he had to admit, part of the primary attraction. He'd always liked a puzzle, had never wanted to shy away from a challenge.
"Don't," she said softly, that wounded, curiously open look still on her face.
"What?"
"Don't be nice to me." She took a shaky breath. "I don't think I can take it."
"Is that why you picked me, Mara?" he said, leaning in again, close to her ear. "Because I'm not a nice guy?"
"Don't," she said again. "Just don't." There was a pause, another uneven breath. "You're not as bad as you think you are, you know."
"What am I, then?"
"I think you're like me. I think you've been believing what you're supposed to be for so long, you've forgotten how to be anything else. You've forgotten who you are down deep at the core." She kissed him, not giving him a chance to reply, to tell her she was wrong. When she let go, she said, "I picked you because I trust you. I needed to trust someone again, and you were worthy of it."
He looked at her for a long moment, then said, "I want to be nice to you, I want you to let me for once. It will be all right. You won't break, I won't let you."
"Okay, okay. I believe you, I won't break," she said, and she didn't. Not then anyway, that happened later.
The last time Han had seen Karrde in person had been kind of a disaster. It had been right after Wayland, everything still raw, all their wounds still painfully fresh. He wondered if Karrde would be pissed off that he'd picked the same spot for this meeting, or if he'd take it in the spirit in which it was intended.
Back then, Karrde had gone to Jeldwen, Billey's old (and, if rumors were to be believed, current) stomping ground, presumably to lick his wounds and figure out his next move. Han, wanting to be very sure that whatever that move was it didn't put him, his family or the Republic in the line of fire, had followed Karrde there.
He hadn't really considered Karrde the type to down his sorrows in alcohol. The guy was too controlled, too uptight, too much of a cold fish. It was something of a surprise, then, to walk into the right kind of bar that first night, looking for someone who might be able to point him in Karrde's direction, only to find the man himself – half in the bag, staring out the window, a nearly empty bottle of excellent whiskey dangling dangerously from a careless hand.
"Well, that was suspiciously easy," he'd said, helping himself to a seat at the bar and signaling for a whiskey of his own.
Karrde blinked at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. What else?" There was an extended pause, during which Karrde swayed ominously. "Sit down before you fall down," Han said, and Karrde complied, nearly upsetting the bottle of whiskey as he did so. "I've gotta admit, this is something I would've bet I'd never see."
Karrde laughed roughly. "Not very good form, is it? To be honest, though, at the moment I'm finding it a little hard to care," he said, with what Han had to admit was remarkable poise for someone who'd drunk even half that bottle, let alone most of it. "Though it would appear you're drinking your own memorials tonight." He nodded at Han's glass.
"Maybe I am. Care to join me?"
Karrde just made a noise of disbelief. After a moment, though, he said, "I was sorry about Calrissian, and your Wookiee friend."
"He had name, you know."
"Of course, he did," Karrde said, looking contrite. "I am sorry."
"Well, I was sorry about Mara, too."
"Were you? Were any of you?"
"Hey," he said lamely, "she went out fighting, and saved a lot of lives in the process..."
"Don't give me that," Karrde said, putting his drink down. "Don't try to gloss things over just because she's gone. She wasn't some hero, and she nearly got us all killed several times over..." He paused, picking the glass up again and taking a drink. "But she was also extraordinary, and losing her this way is a damned waste."
"I didn't know the girl very well, but she was smart and good in a fight. And..." He hesitated, wary about bringing this up. "Luke thought she was something special, and that's a pretty good recommendation in my book."
"Don't talk to me about Skywalker," Karrde said succinctly, draining his glass and standing up. "The next time I see him, he'll have more than a sucker punch to worry about."
"Sit down," Han said evenly. "We're not quite through yet." Karrde complied, not looking very happy about it. "I don't know exactly what went down between you and Luke, but I'm happy to leave it between the two of you. That's not why I'm here."
"Why are you here? And don't try to tell me it's out of concern for me or my people..."
"I wouldn't insult you. I want to talk about your arrangement with the Republic."
"Don't you mean 'former' arrangement? They've made it pretty clear they no longer have any use for our services..."
"I don't agree with that, and Bel Iblis knows it, but I got overruled. I need to know, though... I need to know that you're not going to do anything to screw us over. Maybe if I can get some assurances from you, we can still offer you some protection..."
"Nothing personal, Solo," Karrde said, "but you can take your assurances and your protection and shove it up your-"
"Yeah, that's not personal at all."
That, unfortunately, had been that. Karrde paid for Han's whiskey (and his own, which must have been one hell of a bar tab) and disappeared out into the street – and off the map for a good long while. There were rumors, of course, that his organization was still running – even further underground than it had been before. There were even newer rumors that Thrawn was still looking for him, that the price on his head was so large it had become the stuff of legend.
An oddly-shaped shadow fell across the table, and Han instinctively dropped a hand to his weapon.
"He's not coming."
He looked up to find Billey there, alone. "This is unexpected..."
"He's not coming," Billey said again, "but I thought you and I might have a talk instead." There was a pointed silence. "Well, offer an old man a drink already."
Han signaled the bartender to bring another whiskey. "It's been a long time."
"That it has. Before that stunt of yours at Yavin, certainly."
"Hey, I helped saved the galaxy."
"Temporarily, anyway," Billey said dryly.
"So, Karrde isn't coming." Han cradled his glass in his hands. "He sent you instead?"
"He didn't. He's... unavailable. I got the message directly."
"You two working together again? I thought you were retired."
"Semi-retired. You know how it goes."
"That I do." How many times had he resigned his commission now? He sighed. "Where is Karrde?"
Billey laughed darkly. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." That appeared to be all he was willing to share on the subject. "So, I have to admit, Solo, I'm curious."
"And that's why you showed up. You just had to know, huh?" Billey had always been like that, maybe that was where Karrde got it from – birds of a feather.
He shrugged. "It was an unusual enough request that it seemed worth the risk."
Han did some quick mental arithmetic on the risk/reward of trusting Billey with this. At this point, Billey was probably the closest he was going to get to Karrde himself – and it wasn't like what he had to offer was their only bargaining chip.
"I have something I think Karrde will want. I wanted to give it to him." He took a tiny silver datacard from one pocket and held it up.
"How charitable of you," Billey said, sounding suspicious. Then, "What is this?"
"A peace offering. I had to pull some strings to get it."
"But what is it?" Billey asked.
Han shook his head, handing it over. "I think it's an apology."
