The Storm

by Djuva

After the victories won the New Republic faces a new threat from without a mysterious alien race and an old one: the Empire. Palpatine's legacy is still haunting the heroes of The Art of War, and it hits one of them particularly hard, when the plans bot

7. Chapter 6 - Trust

Chapter 6 - Trust

"I did not know you were an artist," Anakin said with a small smile, as he walked into Raisa Tobyn's apartment. But when he threw a closer look at the paintings decorating the walls his eyes widened slightly. "You really are an artist!" Turning his gaze toward her, he arched his brows in astonishment. "Those are amazing."

"Thank you." Raisa brushed past him roughly to hide her embarrassment at his compliments. "They will be here soon."

"How many?"

"Seven so far." She leaned against a tall stool and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Do you want a drink?"

"Sure."

Raisa walked over to the small kitchenette in one corner and grabbed something from the cooling unit.

"I fear it's only beer."

"Beer?"

"Yes. Mildly alcoholic beverage. That okay with you?" She grinned at him and threw him a bottle.

Anakin snatched it out of the air and smiled. "Not at all. When did you start painting?" he asked, walking along the walls leisurely to study the works in greater detail. They were gloomy, abstract studies, as far as he could tell, and even though he did not recognize much in them he could feel that they touched his soul in some way. They conveyed sensations, and mostly it was sorrow. She did not have to tell him when she had started. He knew. Looking over his shoulder at her he said: "I am sorry."

"What for, your lordship?" she replied coldly. "I thought you had put that behind you."

Raisa took a long draw from her bottle and threw him a challenging look. The Dark Lord chose to ignore it. He could sense someone approaching and indeed, a few moments later someone knocked at the door. Raisa strode over to check the visitors out. Then she let them in. The first two to enter were a Kubaz and a Devaronian. Nodding at them curtly, Raisa led them into the room. There were no introductions. Both newcomers eyed Anakin up and down in a quite provoking manner, doubt and contempt plain in their stances and their eyes. It was an unsettling feeling. Usually strangers confronted him with fear or outright anger, but not this quiet measuring.

The Kubaz shuffled over to the cooling unit and took out two bottles of the same beer Raisa had given Anakin. Which reminded him that he had not even tasted it yet. Taking a sip, he savored it slowly. Not bad. The Kubaz inserted its feeding tube into the bottle neck and started drinking. At his side the Devaronian also held his drink close, but his eyes never left the Dark Lord. A very quiet, and above all unfriendly gathering, Anakin thought.

"Where are the others?" he asked at last, just to fill the silence.

Raisa smiled. "Impatient?"

"A bit, maybe."

There was another knock at the door and this time an entire group of assorted beings strode in. He counted two humans, a man and a woman. The other three were a small Chadra'Fan, a Tordoshan and a Twi'lek. They stared at him the same way the others had. Anakin shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. He hated being scrutinized like that, his motives questioned so openly by naked suspicion.

"He help us?" the Tordoshan rumbled in disbelief. The alien was a head taller than the Dark Lord, and thick muscles rippled underneath his coarse brown fur as he moved across the room.

Anakin frowned slightly. "I hope no one followed you?" They gave a negative. "Good. I assume you prefer to remain standing, so I will get right to the point. Raisa has told you a bit of why you are here tonight, I guess," Anakin continued. This was not his turf. He was no speaker. "I will tell you a bit more. First, a selfish reason. I need new agents, agents the government knows nothing about. Why that secrecy? You know why. They are watching me very closely, and they don't trust me. You do not trust me either, I know. Yet. I hope I can change that in time. The second reason is this: you are all lost, without a purpose, without any support. I want to help you, and others like you."

"How do we know you are sincere? We know who you are," the Devaronian sneered. "I should kill you were you stand."

Anakin straightened to his full height. "Go ahead then." The alien did not stir. "Afraid? No, I don't think so. I believe you are curious. You are desperate. Well, so am I." He spread his arms in a soothing gesture. "So, perhaps now would be the time to get to know each other a bit better. You," he pointed at the Kubaz, who jumped, startled. "What is your name?"

Over the next hours they talked, just that, and in the end they all knew that they were committed to the cause the Dark Lord had outlined for them. Now he could finally make his move.

On Nal Hutta Han Solo and Lando Calrissian were both feeling ill at ease as they followed the bounty-hunter deeper into the Hutt's fortress. A Twi'lek had joined them, and the alien was watching them suspiciously out of the corner of his eyes. Han had his right hand hovering over his blaster, and he noticed Lando doing the same. He did not like this place. It reeked of Hutt slime. Indeed, rounding a corner they entered another hallway that led up to a huge chamber. At the far end a raised dais had been erected and on it lounged the dark form of a full-grown Hutt. Joral.

"Ah, the infamous Han Solo!" the huge alien boomed in greeting. "I am told you have something for me!"

"Sure," Han growled softly. "The credits." The exchange went pretty fast, and Han felt only slightly guilty over spending his in-laws' money. But hey, Anakin had allowed him to use any of his assets, hadn't he? "Is that all then?"

"Yes, Han Solo, we are even," Joral answered smoothly. "But there is something else."

Han tensed. "What?"

"A job."

"You must be kidding."

"Rest assured that I am serious. You served Jabba well, I hear. Most of the time, at least."

"What do you want?"

"Something you might benefit from too."

"Really?" Subtly shifting his weight, the Corellian tried to keep an eye on the bounty-hunter, the Hutt, the Twi'lek and the shadows writhing in the corners. "And what is that?"

"There is a woman, her name is Yana Dar. I want you to track her for me."

"Yana Dar?"

"Yes. She is on Yaga Minor right now. You will go there."

"I will? Why should I?"

"Because I say so."

"Not very convincing." Han drew himself up to his full height, and scanned their surroundings again. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a movement by the door and turned his head quickly, just in time to see Abla Othana retreat into the hallway outside. What was that man doing here?

"You see something you do not like, Han Solo?" Joral asked in a dangerous hiss.

"Actually yes," the Corellian replied. "Why don't you have Othana do your spy work, if he is working for you?"

"Because Yana Dar knows him."

Han swallowed slowly. "We will never be able to get as close to her as he can."

"She is expecting you, Han Solo."

"What?"

"Have you checked the data Abla has uncovered for you?"

Han patted his pockets quickly. "Er, no. Why?"

"Do it. Now." Joral beckoned him closer. Now Han could make out a holorecorder that had been installed into the dais the Hutt rested on. Walking closer cautiously he nodded at Lando, who looked very tense, and held his right hand hovering over his blaster. Behind the baron Boba Fett was standing seemingly at ease, but Han bet that the bounty-hunter would know Lando's move before he even thought of making it. The Corellian threw the Hutt a suspicious glance before he inserted the datacard into the appropriate slot. Almost immediately the screen lit up with information. He frowned at it. This could not be!

"Yana was behind this?" he felt his jaw drop. "She is behind Leia's kidnapping? But this makes no sense!"

"Othana!" Joral called out in a booming voice. "Come here!"

The slicer sauntered into the room nonchalantly and threw Lando an amused smile that the baron requited with a grim frown. "What?"

"Tell Han Solo here why Yana kidnapped the Princess, will you?"

"Sure. The Empire, Solo. It is still very much alive, as you know. The Princess is a powerful bargaining chip when it comes to dealing with the Imps."

Han frowned at the man. What deal could Yana be planning with the Imperial remnant? Aloud he asked: "What has that got to do with me?"

Joral answered instead of the slicer. "You could be a hero, Han Solo."

"A hero? I do not want to be a hero! I want Leia back!"

"And you shall have her, Han Solo. Go to Yaga Minor. Yana Dar is with a woman named Roganda Ismaren. This Roganda has a scientist with her. I want the scientist."

"You want us to kidnap him?"

"Bring him here, to Nal Hutta."

"What's in it for me?"

"The Princess."

Han frowned suspiciously. "How come I don't believe you?"

"I do not have the faintest idea, Han Solo. The man's name is Nasdra Magrody."

"Magrody!"

"And to ensure that you will do as I say," Joral said pleasantly, "I am sending Master Fett with you."

"What?" Whirling around the Corellian stared at the bounty-hunter gape-mouthed. Lando looked sick. The Corellian turned back to frown at the Hutt: "You want us to spy on Yana Dar and kidnap Magrody while she isn't watching? What kind of mission is that?"

"The one that will save your Princess, Solo."

That was, of course, a very good argument. "Do I get an insurance that you'll stay true to your word?" Han tried, but he already knew that he was caught. If he could get this to Skywalker... Unfortunately he suspected that Fett would keep a sharp eye on them.

"My word has to suffice, Han Solo," Joral replied gravely.

"Yeah, great," Han mumbled sullenly and gave Lando a grim look. To his surprise the baron was nodding vigorously. "It is a deal," the former smuggler grated out at last, not quite meeting Joral's gaze.

"Excellent!" the Hutt boomed and clapped his tiny hands childishly. "I suggest you leave at once. Yana Dar has a three-day lead on you."

"Thanks so much for the info. Lando, let's go. I suppose Mister Fett here doesn't need an invitation." Stalking past the bounty-hunter, Han clenched his hands into tight fists. How he hated being pushed around! Behind him he heard Boba Fett say:

"I have a feeling that we will make a great team, Solo."

Yeah, that feeling he had too. Ha ha.

Once the smuggler and the baron were gone, Abla turned back to face the Hutt. Joral was staring into the distance pensively, but when the slicer moved toward him his eyes focused on Othana lightning quick.

"Fool!" the Hutt hissed viciously. "You almost ruined everything."

Abla shrugged easily. "I don't think so. Solo had no choice, really. A nice twist, sending Fett with them." And using Yana's idea for your own ends, he added silently to himself.

"I do not like taking risks, Abla Othana. Take care that you do not become one, or else I might have to eliminate you."

"Don't you think my boss would object?"

"Yana Dar can find herself another pretty, and your other boss another agent."

Abla snorted softly. "I am the best slicer there is, Joral, and you profit from my skills as much as Yana and the Grand Admiral."

"For how long? Once he has the program, he won't need you any longer."

"That I doubt very much." Abla frowned at the Hutt suspiciously. "And what do you know of that project?"

"I know more than you realize, my friend." On the comm console a green light began blinking urgently. "Your boss seems to have a knack for finding the most inopportune moments to call," Joral announced sourly. He activated the receiver and a life-size hologram appeared in front of the dais. Abla found himself saluting automatically when the Grand Admiral's cool gaze fell on him.

"I had not expected you to be here at this point of time," the Admiral said, a cutting edge in his already hard voice. Tious Markhan had been one of the Republic's brightest generals before the Emperor had made him Grand Admiral. Stocky of build and with dark gray hair, he had as commanding a presence as any of the strategists the Emperor had employed in his service.

"At your service, sir, as always," the slicer replied coolly.

"What news, Joral?" Markhan asked, ignoring his agent for the time being. The Hutt gave a startled grunt as the Grand Admiral addressed him so suddenly.

"Good news, esteemed Grand Admiral," he replied hastily. "I have found Nasdra Magrody."

Abla suppressed an annoyed hiss. If the Hutt continued claiming Yana's exploits as his own, he would learn that Tious Markhan did not think very highly of deceiving liars.

"Good news indeed," The Grand Admiral said. "When will you be able to acquire him?"

"I have sent Han Solo to Yaga Minor on exactly that mission."

"Han Solo!" Once his initial surprise had faded, Markhan smiled slowly. "Very good. The Princess?"

"Safe with Roganda Ismaren," Abla put in calmly.

"So, everything is in place. But we do not know yet what Ismaren is planning, do we?"

"No, sir. Joral had the idea of having Solo spy on Yana. He's bound to find out something."

"Perhaps. But I would not rely on that. We need another source. Suggestions?"

"Lord Andorwyn," Abla mused. "He is more ambitious and ruthless than the rest. Promise him power and he will tell you everything Ismaren will reveal at that meeting on Yaga Minor."

The Grand Admiral did not seem to listen. "The boy is with her?"

"As far as we know, yes."

"Good. Joral, how is your business on Ryloth proceeding?"

"Very well, sir. I have established contact with the ruling Council of Five. They will not trouble us."

"Understandable. But?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you listen to rumors, Joral? They whisper that the Twi'lek plan rebellion. That they want to leave your protectorate and join the New Republic." Tious Markhan raised his eyebrows questioningly at the Hutt. "So? What do you say?"

"I have heard those rumors."

"And you have kept them hidden from me. Why?"

"It did not seem proper to bore you with local gossip."

"Hardly local, my friend. Everyone knows, by now. I hear that the New Republic has a sharp eye on you. You will increase your efforts in uncovering the instigators of this rumor and verify its truthfulness. If there really are rebels... You will keep me posted, is that clear? But first, Andorwyn. Abla, where is his lordship right now?"

"Probably on Yaga Minor already. I can find out for you."

"Don't bother. I expect a report on the program soon, Abla. A progress report."

"Yes, sir." Abla hesitated, then said: "Anderland is dead, sir."

"Dead? How so?"

"He was spying on us when we had that little conversation a few days back. So I eliminated him."

"Will his demise present a set-back in regards to the program? Will it cause problems with Yana Dar?"

"No."

"Then why do you bring it up? Once we have Magrody, you will move out of Nar Shadaa anyway, and Yana Dar won't be your responsibility any longer. Gentlemen, I bid you farewell."

The image flickered out. Staring at the spot where it had vanished Abla was lost in thought. He knew that Markhan had to handle a load of strings, and apparently not everything was in place yet. On the other hand the Grand Admiral did not tell him everything either. A shame, really.

Looking up suddenly he fixed Joral in a cold stare.

"What was that about the Twi'lek?"

Belana was astounded at the simplicity of the plan. It did not seem like Kell at all. They were seated side by side on the very border to the day side of Ryloth, watching the sun rise over the horizon. Kell's gaze was fixed straight ahead, and a smile made his sharp features seem almost soft. Reaching out to him, Belana ran a hand over his forehead tenderly. He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes with a low sigh.

"It is a good plan, though," he said softly.

"Yes, I agree. If they are ready to break custom."

"Custom is not as strong as history, Belana. Once the ruling Council loses its power, all members are exiled, and their clan is shamed by their exile into the day zone. They all lose part of their standing in society. That is customary and accepted. But what Haman is planning... He does not belong to the ruling clan, and he wants to use the Hutts to gain personal power. This is breaking custom, Belana. If I can convince the exiled Councilors to cooperate with me, they will be heroes. How could they decline such an offer? They will be the saviors of custom and tradition, and at the same time they bring freedom to their people."

"But can you keep it secret?"

"That is the advantage of being exiled. No one gives a damn about what you are doing out there."

"Do you believe Lord Skywalker thinks the same?

"I am almost certain. He won't sit still and let the New Republic run toward certain doom, though."

"And the Grand Admiral?"

Opening his clear green eyes, he met her gaze calmly. "You saw. You know what he is facing."

"So it is up to us and the Princess."

"Possibly. I do not pretend to be a strategist."

Belana smiled down at him fondly. "That's what I like in you. Either you are totally fanatic or else more modest than a Trall virgin." He burst out laughing and she fell in with his mirth easily.

"Gods, Belana! I never knew!" Chuckling softly, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her closer. "It is so good to be back with you. You make me feel at ease."

"And you make me feel all wound-up. It is crazy, really." She hesitated, suddenly pensive. "What about the other thing?"

He shrugged. "I did what I could to scare them off and warn the New Republic and the Chiss at the same time. They'll be back soon, though, and there are dangers lurking in the midst of the New Republic, too."

"What dangers?"

"The Empire brought so-called civilization to peoples who cannot cope with it. They feel restrained by the rules, they want to be left alone with their own culture, and they will defend their territory against any intrusion."

"Just like you, hm?"

"Yes, just like me. My mother knew exactly why she did not want civilization to conquer her people. You have seen how it changed me, and how I used it."

"What can we do about them?"

"I will do nothing, and the New Republic will have to decide if they can discard their own ideals so soon."

"What?" Belana broke his embrace and sat up. "What do you mean?"

"They promote an alliance of free cultures, but they also promote peace and independence. Should a danger arise from within, a danger that has to be contained, they will inevitably turn into oppressors. Can they simply tolerate another civilization, one that does not fit their image of a perfect galaxy? Or do they destroy it, for the greater good of the majority? They have to be very strong now. If they lose that strength, their dreams will be shattered and they will lose their allies. As long as their enemies are strong, they will be hard pressed to keep the high moral ground." He threw her a quick smile. "Luckily they have some allies that know that one has to stay true to oneself."

"Thrawn. And Chi'in."

"Yes. Thrawn is smart enough not to interfere with the New Republic, and Chi'in knows how to move unseen. He will not let the New Republic perish."

"Do you know what he is planning?"

"No. But he will not let them fall. Karrde will keep both informed about what is happening and I suspect that Thrawn has his own sources, too."

"That leaves their opponents. The Empire, for one."

"Yes. Unfortunately I have no idea what they are planning. It will be interesting to find out, no doubt."

Reclining in his high-backed chair, Tious Markhan steepled his fingers in front of his face and smiled at Anto Andorwyn pleasantly. Andowryn was Kuat nobility, a sleek, fair-skinned human of indeterminable age. His cool eyes met theGrand Admiral's gaze unafraid, but Tious could see the greed lurking in their depth. Greed and ambition.

"So, when Roganda Ismaren arrives at Yaga Minor tomorrow, you will keep an eye on everything she does. You have someone trustworthy, I hope?"

"Of course, Grand Admiral. Rest assured that nothing will escape my eyes and ears."

"I am pleased to hear that, my lord. Now, let me not detain you. I am certain that you have a lot to prepare for her arrival."

"Certainly."

Deactivating the comm, the Grand Admiral looked up, beyond the screen, where his aide, Lieutenant Franzis Sarreti, stood at rigid attention. "Interesting, don't you think?"

Sarreti nodded slowly. "Yes, sir, but it will be even more interesting to find out what exactly Ismaren is planning."

"She wants her son to take his father's place, of course." Tious clicked his tongue in delight. "But I fear he has grown out of her control already."

"Which would be no surprise."

"Indeed."

Rising abruptly Markhan crossed his hands on his back and walked over to the viewport that gave a spectacular view of the red glow that surrounded the desolate planet that was Byss. When he had moved his headquarters here, it had been for one specific reason: information. Abla Othana had cracked the codes of the files he himself had had no access to, even as Grand Admiral, and those files had given him knowledge that could be put to good use now. Information about the late Emperor's most secret ambitions, his pet projects, his plans for the future. As self-appointed guardian of that precious information Tious Markhan was determined to build a new empire, a worthy legacy to the one that had almost perished in the previous war. Only almost, though.

They had the resources to crush the New Republic with ease, but that was not the way to go about this. He had to move carefully, had to dismantle the new government bit by bit, take the people's confidence from their leaders, mire them in bleak despair. Tious Markhan was not Force-sensitive, but he had understood the Dark Side well enough, and he would succeed were Palpatine had failed. That was the project he had Abla Othana working on.

Upon their arrival on Byss his foray parties had found some very interesting facilities, and one in particular had intrigued him. Those laboratories featured the technology of an alien species Markhan himself had been sent to scout out years ago, on the Emperor's orders. The Ssi-ruuk, as they called themselves, where a reptilian species that used the life energy of sentient beings as source of energy. Their technology allowed them to transfer a living consciousness into a machine and make it power that machine. The Emperor had shown great interest in that technology and he had outlined a deal with the Ssi-ruuk that would have given him access to their knowledge, but they had seen through his plan. In one of the last skirmishes with their fleet, before he had been able to contain the threat, Markhan had been able to capture one of their cruisers. Palpatine had had his scientists work on the on-board technology and apparently he had found some uses for it. The no-longer secret log files of the specific laboratory spoke of those very clearly.

A consciousness transferred from a living host into a machine could be enslaved and controlled through that technology, and apparently Palpatine had sought to try exactly that on someone called Roj Kell. Further research had yielded part of the man's history: he had been Palpatine's teacher, a Sith Lord himself, with little Force-sensitivity, but with a mind that harbored more knowledge than any computer system could possibly process. To control that mind had been the Emperor's goal. He had failed though, and the only thing his scientists had managed was to flash-print Kell's memory. Palpatine had put a select team of computer experts to the task of developing an encrypt/decrypt program to handle that chaos of information.

But his plan apparently had been implemented even earlier, with a genetic experiment that had resulted in the birth of Irek Ismaren. The boy was a combination of Palpatine's considerable strength in the Force with the exceptional mental abilities of his former teacher. Had Palpatine lived long enough, his mind would have controlled the boy, with Roj Kell's knowledge at his fingertips. A daring plan. Now Tious had to find out exactly what Roganda had planned for her son. Did she only want him to become a figurehead or did she have higher goals for him? A tricky question.

"What is a tricky question, sir?" Lieutenant Sarreti asked quietly.

Only then did Tious realize that he had spoken his last thought aloud. "Ismaren's plans," he explained softly.

"But she is not really a danger, is she? You could apprehend her on Yaga Minor easily, sir. I doubt that her 'allies' would come to her aid."

"Too simple, Sarreti. She is no fool. No, we will wait for Lord Andorwyn's report. Then we will decide what to do about her."

"Yes, sir." Sarreti hesitated. "Sir, what about the agents Yana Dar has sent to Byss?"

"What? Oh, yes. Those. Wrenga Jixton and Mara Jade." The Grand Admiral gave a annoyed grunt.

"I have had the guard increased and the holocron moved to another location. When they turn up, the guards have orders to eliminate them. They won't be a problem."

"As you say, sir."

Yana sat up when the Princess stirred on her bunk. The information broker had guarded the prisoner's unnatural sleep for the past three hours, sensing that a change was about to happen. Smiling to herself, Yana rose and walked over to Leia's recumbent form. The Princess' eyelids fluttered open and her dark brown eyes met Yana's blue ones calmly.

"I heard your call," Leia explained softly, making Yana's heart skip a beat.

"You did?"

"Yes."

"You will not betray me, will you?"

"Not if you tell me a bit more about Irek Ismaren."

Yana sat down on the edge of the bed elegantly. "I should have known you would ask that particular question." Heaving a sigh she said: "I suppose it does not matter any longer. It is not as if you could prevent Roganda's plans from unfolding."

"What plans?"

"It is quite shrewd, actually, but risky. You obviously know what Irek is capable of."

"Yes."

"Well, Roganda has two goals. One: to discredit the New Republic government. Second: to bring the Imperial remnant on her side."

"How?" The Princess has regained some of her strength and sat up on the bunk weakly. Her eyes though were full of quiet power.

"Irek will take control of the Executor and attack the New Republic. They will believe that Grand Admiral Thrawn has betrayed them at last and your friends on Coruscant will shun the ex-Imperial commanders, who will want to join Thrawn again. At the same time Roganda can prove to the surviving courtiers and the military commanders that she has the means to defeat the New Republic easily, if they assist a little bit. You she wanted to bring the New Republic on her side."

"So she wants her son to become Emperor. I knew it!"

"A figurehead. She underestimates him though. His move against you shows me that he has different plans. If I could just find out what those are!" Thumping the bunk with her fist, Yana growled softly with impatience.

The Princess moved closer, a smile on her face. "Yana, I believe you would not appreciate Roganda's plan to succeed, am I right? What is it you plan?"

"You truly are your father's daughter," Yana laughed. "But that plan is not for you to know yet. Too much is at stake for me." She rose abruptly, looking down at the Princess. "Still, I think you and I can work together. Perhaps." It was a question, they both knew, and Leia nodded at last.

"I think so, too," she said softly. Then, cocking her head to one side as if listening to something far off, the Princess nodded to herself. "We are almost there." Then she gazed up at Yana again. "You will visit me again?"

"Of course." Extending her hand on impulse Yana waited for the Princes to grasp it. "A pact, Princess.

You help me, and I will assist you in turn."

The Princess smiled. "Call me Leia. Please."

"She's back!"

Padmé gasped in shock, woken by Anakin's joyous shout from restless slumber filled with nightmares.

"What?" she asked, her head clearing up gradually.

"Leia! She's back! She is all right, I think." He laughed out loud. "I guess Chi'in was right after all."

Her muscles sagging with utter relief, Padmé buried her face in the pillows, a huge smile creeping onto her lips. She wanted to suffocate with the joy she felt at this good news, but strong arms pulled her into her husband's embrace.

"Isn't this great?" he whispered softly. Padmé could not answer. Leia was all right! Suddenly tears were falling from her eyes. Anakin wiped them away gently and kissed her left cheek. "I told you she would pull through, didn't I?"

"You were worried too, admit it," Padmé growled.

"Okay, yes, so I was worried nearly to death," he replied with a chuckle, then hugged her closer, his embrace almost crushing her. "Sorry," he muttered at her muffled protests and relaxed his grip a fraction. "I am just so relieved."

"I understand." Twisting around in his arms, she kissed him deeply, wanting to share her joy with him. He answered her kisses just as passionately, and Padmé felt like laughing again. "Anakin," she said, taking a badly needed breath. "I love you."

"I love you too, Padmé. Always and forever."

"Then you will tell me where you sent Raisa?"

He froze. "You-!" he began, sounding outraged, but he subsided immediately when she began caressing his shoulders tenderly. Padmé thoughts he could hear him mumble something that sounded like 'Piett'.

"Chandrila?" she whispered in surprise. "Why there?"

"Piett needs a bodyguard, I think, and she can keep an eye on his activities for me."

"Uh, you are so bad, Anakin! You are lucky that I would never tell Mon Mothma what exactly you are doing with your free time."

"Hm," he mused aloud, "I dearly hope so. Else I'd have to take serious steps to ensure that you keep those things to yourself."

"Is that so?" she challenged him with some amusement. "Steps such as?" Instead of answering he sealed her lips close with his, and Padmé forgot all about teasing him.

The Wilde Karrde was docked securely at one of the many ports of Ord Mantell and Talon Karrde had ordered his crew to stay aboard, in case they needed to leave again quickly. Now he and Aves were alone on the bridge, and Aves had tried to establish contact to the Executor. Three attempts so far, and twice they had gotten a very startled Cronn on the line, who had managed to tell them that Thrawn was at the base right now before they had lost the transmission the last time in a hailstorm of static. Talon Karrde was worried. What was going on out there?

"Got it!" Aves announced triumphantly and suddenly they had a clear view of the Grand Admiral. The blue-skinned alien nodded at Karrde in acknowledgement.

"Mister Karrde, what can I do for you?"

"You got the information I sent from Ryloth?"

"Yes. Very interesting news. Lord Skywalker said you were to meet me at Niaruan."

"Yes, he did, and I am on my way. Have you changed your mind?"

"Something urgent has turned up quite unexpectedly and I need to investigate that first. I would appreciate it though if you could stay in contact with the base and keep me abreast of anything that

is going on in the New Republic."

Karrde smiled in understanding. "I assume I know what you are referring to. As for the Ryloth business, I would value your input."

"I cannot tell you much. You know the historical facts, you know the actual ones. If I knew what he is planning I would still stay here. Nevertheless, he is right in one thing: do not involve the New Republic."

"Why? Can you give me a reason?" Karrde asked cautiously.

The Chiss admiral shook his head. "Not on this channel, Karrde. Either you come here or you must find out yourself." He glared at something off the screen and nodded to himself with a tiny smile. "I would advise you though to stay in Imperial space for the time being. Try to uncover what is going on there."

So he had been checking where the transmission was coming from. "What is in it for me?"

"Always the businessman," Thrawn said with a smile. "You will be recompensed, of course. As soon as you have something useful for me."

Talon Karrde suppressed a sigh. He should have known that Thrawn would not agree to any deal at this point of time. "I will do my best, as always." The call disconnected and the information broker leaned back in his seat tiredly. "Aves," he said. "Have you been able to confirm the rumor about Yana Dar being on Yaga Minor?"

"Yes, boss. She's arrived just today, apparently."

"All right. Call the crew. We are leaving for Yaga Minor."

Grand Admiral Thrawn left the comm chamber briskly. Outside Voss Parck fell in step with him easily. The two men walked side by side toward the admiral's office. He was not certain if Karrde knew about the trouble Anakin Skywalker was in, or if he was aware of Mon Mothma's new stance on her former allies. It was not something he would tell the broker over an insecure channel, and he really had other things to worry about. Ever since they had returned to Niaruan the Executor was experiencing a series of tiny malfunctions, like the communication silence just today. The Super Star Destroyer was a fearsome weapon, but also vulnerable. In his obsession to control everything Palpatine had ordered the technicians to install a remote control unit into the ship that would allow someone who knew the proper codes to take over control of the ship. That was a very worrying thought.

Cronn was conducting a thorough research and he had the technicians jumping all around the ship. The Falleen was frantically trying to find the source of the trouble, and he had reported another disturbance in the Force. Was there a connection, maybe?

Cronn had claimed that no Jedi had ever been able to actually influence the control chips of machines. Nevertheless the Grand Admiral was considering standing the Super Star Destroyer down. It came at an unfortunate time, especially with the strange happenings out in Wild Space. Yet he would rather risk facing overwhelming odds than have a malfunctioning flagship. The problem was that he had no docks that could handle a ship that size, or else he'd have an entire team search the Executor top to bottom. Perhaps Kuat would be susceptible to a request. He winced inwardly. If he brought the SSD into New Republic space, an awful lot of people would start asking questions.

"What could you make of the reports, sir?" Voss Parck interrupted his thoughts suddenly.

"Which reports do you mean?" Thrawn punched the codes into the lock to his office and the door slid open noiselessly. Parck followed him in.

"The ones Lord Skywalker sent, about the activities of the former courtiers."

"Ah, those reports. Well, I could make an educated guess as to where Andorwyn sent his money. It is no secret that Zsinj controls the sector around Yaga Minor. Fortunately for us Talon Karrde is in the area. If Andorwyn throws in his lot with the warlords, we can assume that Skywalker was right. The others won't want to stay behind. What I want to know though is what Chi'in is planning. Have you tried to raise the Ardana Ver again?"

"Yes. They don't answer, but the ship has been put on the hot list with our troops. On Syndic Bal'maw'narda's orders."

"So he's been to Almashin." The Grand Admiral's eyes narrowed a fraction. Why had the Noghri chosen to go now? "I want Puket to send a message to Skywalker. Tell him that he should keep a close eye on Mon Mothma, and his wife is to urge the Senate to take steps toward the Imperial remnant."

"The blunt approach, eh?"

"They are wedged between us and the New Republic, and that is not healthy in the long run. I do not want an enemy on my doorstep when we already have one at our back door."

"True," Parck breathed. "I suggest we approach the Imperial remnant, too."

"No. If Mon Mothma learns of that she will take it as a direct affront. And you and I both know that there is enough ambition in the military command to satisfy two of Palpatine's sort."

"Well put, sir," the admiral said with a smile. "So what are we going to do?"

"You will give Cronn any assistance he needs, and try to track down Chi'in. I suppose I will resume my studies of the Kuati and the Sith. Was there anything else?"

"No. Except-" Voss Parck hesitated, prompting Thrawn to glare at him impatiently.

"What is it?"

"My friend, we are losing this battle," the admiral said quietly. "All we can do is plug the holes, but this ship will sink sooner or later."

Thrawn exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. "I know. I wish I didn't, but I know."

Padmé was seated in her office, working on yet another report on the new senators, and wished that Piett would call to give her an update on his mission. To her own shame she was getting thoroughly bored with all the paper work, but she remembered well how necessary it was that she did it herself. Unfortunately no one could take that responsibility from her.

"Anja!" she called her secretary. The woman appeared in the doorway instantly.

"Yes?"

"Would you please fetch me the latest reports on Corellia? And what we have on Yaga Minor."

"At once."

Padmé leaned back in her chair once Anja had left again, massaging her shoulders with a sigh. Looking toward the viewport she smiled. Anakin had promised to take her out tonight, and she was anxious to see what he had planned for them.

When she noticed the reflection of a movement by the door she turned around quickly, and frowned.

"General Page, what a surprise. Can I help you?"

He nodded gravely and closed the door behind him. "I hope you can enlighten me on a few things I have found here. Your husband does not seem to be at home." It was a question, she realized, and not a friendly one.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as he handed her two datacards.

"That is what I am trying to find out. There have been considerable transfers from your private account, to a man called Abla Othana. He is a known slicer, based in Hutt territory. Apart from that we intercepted this transmission. From Niaruan."

Padmé stared at the message. It was Puket's report on what Karrde had uncovered on Ryloth. Feeling all color drain from her face she looked up quickly to meet Page's eyes. He gazed at her impassively, and she knew that he had already drawn his conclucions. "What do you make of this?" she asked nevertheless.

"What I make of this is that a civilian is handling sensitive government material in a quite irresponsible manner. Mon Mothma has issued an arrest warrant for your husband, by the way. Needless to say that, if you are involved in this too, if you knew of his activities, you are as guilty as he is."

Padmé's mouth twisted in a glum grimace. "Is there any chance to speak to Mon Mothma first?"

"Sure." He gave her a curt nod. "Make an appointment." With that he turned around and left without another word.

Left behind Padmé felt stunned by this piece of news. It was true that Anakin had crossed the line by quite a bit, but this ... The explanation was so easy! Han had used their account to pay off a slicer, Othana, to uncover information. There was no crime in that, was there? As for keeping information secret ... Puket was not answerable to the New Republic. Yes, it sounded easy, but only on the surface. There was much more behind this. Getting to her feet, she walked over to the door and nodded at Anja. "Make an appointment for me with the President, all right?"

"Yes. What about the reports you requested?"

"I'll have a look while I am waiting."

Anja nodded and made a call to Mon Mothma's office. "Madam?" In the process of returning to her own office Padmé looked back over her shoulder questioningly. "Madam, she will see you now."

"Good. Thank you, Anja. Just leave the reports on my desk, all right?" She was not even sure if she would still have her job after that little talk with Mon Mothma, but Padmé was too wound-up to put much thought to that. She needed to clear this up and fast.

Padmé hurried along the hallways briskly, not heeding the greetings and queries following in her wake. Her mind was racing, trying to come up with reasonable arguments, but she had to wait what Mon Mothma had to say first.

The President was waiting for her. She looked up from her desk when Padmé entered, and she did not look friendly at all. Telmann Page was standing next to her, his hands folded on his back.

"Sit down, please," she began curtly. Padmé did as told and waited. "General Page informed you?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. Then perhaps you would care to tell me what this is all about?"

"Certainly." Padmé ordered herself to be calm and raised her chin haughtily. "As you are well aware of, my daughter has been kidnapped. Han Solo has left Corellia to track her down, and of course we assured him any financial support he might need. This included paying off a slicer to investigate on Corellia."

Mon Mothma interrupted her. "While I am indeed aware of the facts, I would also want to remind you that slicing into official port files is in itself is a criminal act. I cannot have my Senior Analyst sanction that kind of thing. A reprimand will be unavoidable. As for Solo's choice ... General Page, would you take this, please?"

"Certainly, Madam President." He gave Padmé a pensive glance, seemed to hesitate, then walked around the desk, drawing her eyes on him. "When your husband came to me to start an investigation into the Minister's disappearance, I had my own people contact Coronet port authorities. They were very cooperative."

"Are you certain? They could have given you false information," Padmé injected quickly. He smiled at her.

"True, but they did not. The information was verified and pointed us toward Nar Shadaa. The name Abla Othana came up in our research too. I had my people trace his history."

"And?"

"Here is an interesting fact. Abla Othana, according to my knowledge, worked for Tious Markhan last."

Padmé shrugged. She knew that Telmann Page had deserted the Empire to join the Alliance, so he was bound to know more than the average Intelligence agent. "So? As far as I recall Markhan was a general in the Clone Wars, a very good one."

"Yes. He was so good, in fact, that Palpatine made him a Grand Admiral later on."

She gasped aloud. "What?"

"Ah, so you did not know. Good. Your husband though undoubtedly did. A coincidence that Han Solo stumbled across Othana? I don't think so."

"I do not know if it was or not," she told him icily. "And I would appreciate it if you kept your accusations to yourselves until my husband can clarify this. I am sure that all his activities were in your best interest."

"That may be as it is, Padmé," Mon Mothma explained calmly, "but your husband has neither the authority nor the permission to conduct such an investigation on his own. He should have informed General Page."

"You yourself said you did not want him to interfere!" Padmé hissed.

"That did not mean that he was suddenly allowed to run his own schemes behind my back. That I do not appreciate at all. And this," she patted the datacard lying on the desk in front of her. "I assume that he has been exchanging information with Niaruan over the past weeks?" Padmé shrugged again. The President nodded gently. "There have been some minor differences between the New Republic and the Grand Admiral of late. I dearly hope that your husband is not involved in that too. General Page has set his best people on Abla Othana, and they have just today come back with disturbing news. Han Solo and a man we identified as Lando Calrissian, a con-man, to our knowledge, left Nar Shadaa for Yaga Minor, after reportedly meeting with Joral and Othana."

"They must be after Leia," Padmé explained weakly, but she was not sure herself any more if Anakin had told her everything. "It must be that."

"I wish it was. We shall see once Lord Skywalker returns." Mon Mothma gave her a pointed look. "If he returns."

"How can you say that!" Bounding to her feet in outrage Padmé propped her hands on her hips furiously. "How dare you? He is doing everything he can to help you, and everything to assist Han Solo in recovering our daughter!"

Telmann Page arched his eyebrows questioningly. "Are you so certain of that?"

Loya, the Devaronian, was in a foul mood. He always was, as far as Anakin had been able to determine. The two of them were stalking along the bleak hallway of one of Coruscant's nastier apartment complexes. Loya wore a sneer that purveyed nothing good for the spy they were hoping to find here. The Devaronian had uncovered and tracked Yana Dar's contacts in Imperial City over the past days, and finally he had been able to isolate one of them. Anakin was very anxious to find out about that mysterious information broker who dared operate right under the Hutt's noses and who knew about the holocrons in Palpatine's treasury on Byss. Byss! A dark world, very dark. Although Anakin had faith in Jix and Mara he wished they would be more careful than they usually were.

Come to think of it, he should not have let them go, had he himself not been interested in what holocron that one might be. He knew without a doubt that it would be a Jedi holocron, accessible only to a Force-user. Was Yana Dar Force-sensitive? Jix had not mentioned any such thing, but then, the Dark Lord had cut his report awfully short. Damn! Leia's disappearance had made him skittish and nervy, not a good thing right now.

Back to the holocron. With what news Karrde had uncovered on Ryloth, Anakin had a nasty feeling that the one and only Force-user in the closer vicinity of Nar Shadaa was Roj Kell. Yana Dar would make the perfect target for him, with her organization dabbling in the flow of information that crisscrossed the galaxy with data streams. But what could he want from Byss? What could the holocron contain that Roj Kell did not know?

Anakin frowned. He was going about this the wrong way. What was in the holocron that Kell knew and did not want others to see? Perhaps they could find out, once Jix and Mara returned from their mission. They would deliver the holocron here, not to Nar Shadaa, that was for certain. Another thought resurfaced: Again, what if Yana Dar herself was Force-sensitive?

It all boiled down to finding the holocron, didn't it? Anakin suppressed a sigh. He hated being stuck in one place.

"Here it is," Loya said suddenly and pointed a thumb at a shabby-looking door. "Anyone in?"

The Dark Lord nodded. "Two beings, one human. The other-" His eyes widened ever so slightly. A Noghri! Here? "Stand back," he ordered the Devaronian coolly.

The alien might be a tough street-fighter, but a Noghri assassin would still finish him within a heart-beat and without breaking a sweat. A flick of the Force blew the door out of its frame. Striding into the room beyond Anakin wrapped the Noghri in flows of air and noticed with some satisfaction that the human had already frozen with shock when the door had been opened so suddenly and violently. Loya darted past the Dark Lord and snatched the assorted weapons from their owners. A set of knives and two blasters from the Noghri, and another blaster from the human.

Anakin dismissed the human for now and concentrated on the captured alien instead. He walked up to the warrior calmly and nodded at him before he extended a hand toward the other. The Noghri blinked large, black eyes at him in surprise. "You know me," the Dark Lord explained quietly. "What is your name?"

"Andarack clan Rim'kai." The warrior frowned ever so slightly, then moved his head toward Anakin's still extended hand. He sniffed his palm delicately, then drew a hissed breath. "You!" Releasing Andarack, the Dark Lord took a step back. He was from the same clan as Chi'in. A coincidence? The Noghri dropped to his knees reverentially and pressed his face against the floor, arms outstretched at his sides. "I serve you, my lord," he said hoarsely.

"Rise, please. What are you doing here? The Grand Admiral has abandoned your people?" Thrawn had been given responsibility for the Noghri when the Dark Lord had been too busy with containing the growing rebellion. Even though he knew that Thrawn had never cared much for the Noghri, he would have thought that Chi'in at least would put a word in for his people with the Chiss. Andarack looked up at him calmly.

"No," the warrior replied. "We have not seen Grand Admiral Thrawn in a long time."

That was very strange indeed. Anakin could sense that there was more hidden here. "What have the Dynasts decided, then?"

"They met in secret with Chi'in clan Rim'kai. He returned to us briefly, but left again soon after the meeting."

Ah. So Chi'in had not forgotten his people. Good. "What happened then?"

"The Dynasts decided that the Noghri will continue to serve the Empire."

Anakin felt as if someone had punched a steel fist into his stomach. He tried hard to hide his shock, but his mind felt completely blank. Why had Chi'in done this? Why? "They will continue to serve?" he managed.

"Yes." Andarack did not seem to find this disturbing in the least. "Why would you object, my lord? The Empire has helped our people in our darkest hour, and they continue to aid us."

"Of course," the Dark Lord said a bit weakly and his lips compressed into a tight, grim line. "And what are you doing here, Andarack clan Rim'kai? What is your assignment?"

The warrior threw a cold glance at the human, who was standing next to Loya. "My orders are to eliminate him."

"Why?"

"I do not question orders, my lord," Andarack replied stiffly.

"Indeed." Straightening to his full height Anakin nodded. "Who gave you those orders? Chi'in?"

"No. General Zi'Assime. He speaks for the Empire on Honoghr now."

Anakin nodded coldly, then turned toward the Devaronian. "Loya, I want you to take this man and get him back to the others. Question him. Find out what Yana wants here. Andarack, you are coming with me. And, Loya, you will report your findings to my wife."

"Yes, sure, whatever you say. Come on, sunnyboy." Shoving the paralysed human in front of him, the Devaronian left.

"My lord, where are we going?" Andarack asked quietly, as Anakin followed the alien.

"You will tell me every order Zi'Assime has issued ever since he came to you. You will tell me everything."

What had gone wrong? Why had Chi'in convinced the Dynasts to continue the Noghri's servitude? He realized that the answer was actually very simple. Until conditions were stable, until the New Republic was strong enough to claim its own, the Noghri would be better off with the support only the Empire could grant them right now. Above everything else Chi'in was a pragmatic. He did not sanction back-stabbing or manipulation of any sort, so the most obvious reason had to be the true one.

But this did not make matters any better. If the Empire still had control over the Noghri death commandos, they could easily wrack havoc in the new senate. Anakin knew he had to stop them, and Andarack would be his messenger here. He remembered General Zi'Assime, a nasty type, unnecessary cruel and harsh toward his subordinates.

Well, he had a duty to the people of the New Republic, and the Noghri, and even the Empire. He sighed deeply. Why did everything always have to be so complicated?

TBC