Chapter 15 – Belief

"Sir! Navigation is online again. The tech teams are working overtime and I am confident that we will be ready to leave in about five hours."

Grand Admiral Thrawn gave a slow nod, but did not look around. He was completely immersed in studying the man in front of him. "Thank you, Sergeant Sujar," he said at last, a clear dismissal.

With the original command crew gone he had had to promote someone else to act as his second, and the middle-aged officer who was just leaving again had been the one who had shown extraordinary initiative after Irek Ismaren's flight from the Executor. He had taken over the deployment of the tech teams the New Republic fleet had lent them without even waiting for Thrawn's orders. But the Grand Admiral had been pleased by Sujar's efforts, and so his choice had been made. Which reminded him that he would have to promote Sujar to the rank of commander soon.

Toss Halan and the rest of his team had left the Executor for destination unknown a few hours earlier, and Thrawn had not questioned them in their desire to leave the ship.

In the background the silent noises of the medical ward went on, low, humming sounds, faint beeps and the steady beat of the life monitoring systems. A mass of cables and wires had been hooked to the patient and an oxygen mask covered the entire lower half of his face. When they had found him he had been barely alive and the medics on board were not certain if he would survive at all. Irek Ismaren's last action aboard the Executor had been an interesting move. From what he himself had experienced from the onslaught Thrawn suspected that it had been the boy's full intention to destroy the ship. But apparently his bodyguard had tried to hinder him from killing himself in the process. An effort that had been received most ungratefully.

The extensive injuries – broken bones, heavy bruises and severe burns that had damaged blood vessels and even caused internal frictions and bleeding – bore testimony to a vicious attack, something the Grand Admiral would never have expected.

"Did he get away?"

The voice was very weak and low, and immediately a medical droid bustled over to adjust the flow of oxygen to allow the patient to talk and breathe without passing out from the effort. His one eye blood-shot and its iris milky-white Erinin was gazing up at the ceiling, his hopeful question hanging in the air above him, unanswered as of yet.

"Sir, you should not speak," the droid said sternly. "You must recover first."

Erinin wheezed softly, the sore reminder of a laugh. "I will not recover," he stated.

"Your chances of survival stand by 2 percent," the droid told him with mechanical accuracy. Again a laugh.

"You may leave us," Thrawn told the droid coldly, but it hesitated.

"Sir, my programming – "

"Of no consequence right now. 2 percent are not much," the Grand Admiral reasoned.

"It is my duty – "

"I have talked to Doctor Wynland. He confirms what I just said. What the patient also knows." The droid fell silent and retreated toward the far wall of the ward. Turning back to the patient Thrawn nodded slowly. "He managed to escape. Or rather, I decided to let him go."

"Why?" Erinin asked hoarsely.

"I have better things to do than waste resources on hunting him down."

"Then why are you wasting resources on keeping me alive?"

The man was intelligent, no doubt about that. The Grand Admiral suppressed a tight smile. "You are right. I do not like leaving unfinished and potentially dangerous business behind. So I thought that you might help me in predicting the course he will take next. Will he try to find his mother?"

"No," the bodyguard wheezed. "He is looking for someone else."

"A father?"

Erinin smiled faintly. "You've seen it too, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Roganda – Roganda was – is – weak." The bodyguard's face turned pensive. "She could offer him no guidance – she was living only for her dreams of revenge." He paused to take a tortured breath. "Did you know that she loved you?"

"I – " He had known, hadn't he? "I guess I did," he admitted at last.

"She tried to keep it secret from me, but I knew."

"What about her master?"

"Oh, he knew it too, of course. It – amused him how she – tormented herself with her day-dreaming. In the end she – blamed you for her ordeal."

Thrawn nodded glumly to himself. He had been aware of Roganda's obsession with him, of her hatred that had been borne out of girlish delusions, but he had not taken her seriously, had not considered her youth and the wounds she was inflicting upon her heart to bear her situation at all. Her thoughts of vengeance had easily been the only thing that had kept her going over the years. Irek must have suffered greatly from the lack of caring on his mother's part.

He gave Erinin a sharp look. "But you were there for him," he said. "You cared for him."

"Yes. I do care for him – even now." Erinin paused once more and Thrawn noticed that his skin had grown even paler. Time was running out on them fast.

"What is he looking for? What does he need?" he pressed on, leaning closer toward the bodyguard, not at all ashamed at setting the other under pressure now. He needed to know the truth.

"His sister, I believe," the man whispered.

"His sister?" Taken by surprise the Grand Admiral tensed. "What sister?"

"He loves her. She – is easy – on him and she is – willing to listen – to his needs." Erinin sighed deeply, obviously exhausted.

"Who? Who is she?"

But there was no answer.

"The Empire does not look kindly upon your betrayal, Andarack clan Rim'kai, " Padmé heard Commander Antham hiss just as she entered the ante-chamber of the quarters she had been given and where the Noghri warrior was standing watch. Giving Antham a bright smile she nodded at her bodyguard cheerfully.

"I hope you are not threatening the dear commander," she admonished him, insinuating a warning that told the Noghri to stay clear of Antham. But she was wondering herself how the man could possibly have found out about Andarack's secret mission to Honoghr weeks earlier.

"No threat," Antham snorted. "The Noghri are loyal to the Empire! He is alone with his views!"

So the death commandos had talked. Her lips twitching in disdain she favored her bodyguard with a calculating glance, but she could not read anything into his expression and his eyes.

"Tell me, Commander," she began softly, "who is in charge of the commandos' deployments?"

"General Zi'Assime." He frowned all of a sudden. "That is – none of your business, Ma'am."

"Certainly. Any news on Cesh Kendar?"

"Not yet."

"That is strange. You did announce my presence publicly, didn't you?"

"Of course. You heard the announcement yourself," he replied stiffly.

"Then why doesn't he come here?"

"Perhaps he was captured by the rebels," Antham ventured and Padmé mentally let out a triumphant cry. Yes! The commander, who seemed to have realized his slip by now, gave her a hard glance.

"The reason for my visit," he said suddenly, changing the subject, "was another, though."

"Really?" Padmé looked surprised. "What reason?"

"I would rather not have your staff walk the streets of Kala'uun alone. It might be dangerous for them."

Guiltily Padmé thought of Anja, who had put her charms to good use and convinced a young member of Antham's own corps to take her out into the mountains. If the commander found out that Andarack had also ventured beyond the city .... He probably had already, else he would not have commented now.

"I understand," she said at last. "Thank you for drawing my attention to this."

"Good. That is all," Antham said and threw a last glance at Andarack. "I bid you a good night."

And with those words he left. Waving a hand at her bodyguard silently Padmé waited for him to join her side. She walked over to the fresher silently, acutely aware of the cameras installed in the ceiling. Antham had suggested that they were offline, but he had also tried to tell her that there had been no rebellion on Ryloth. Turning on the shower at full force she took up a position just inside the doorway, where the cameras could not reach, and Andarack placed himself in front of her, his large eyes studying her intently.

"He suspects," she said quietly. "I fear we will have to act fast. The reason why he cannot locate Cesh Kendar must be that he is either dead or a prisoner."

"No proof," Andarack pointed out, equally calm.

"No, you are right." Padmé frowned at him. "What was he talking about back there?"

"What he chooses to believe."

"Meaning?"

"The Noghri serve the Empire. That is the deal we made."

"But you were going to try to get the death commandos on our side!" she hissed softly.

"A mission that failed, apparently," he explained, and Padmé was taken aback at the slightly ironic tone in his voice, that was very reminiscent of Chi'in.

"What is Chi'in clan Rim'kai planning?"

"To help his people. The Empire will change."

"Did he say that?" Andarack nodded, but she had not really needed that confirmation. The Noghri would not lie to her, she knew. "How does he know?"

"He said it is logical. He said that the Republic's new position would force the reconstruction of the Empire."

"But your mission?"

"My lady, the death commandos risk much, and my people are all hostages. There is not much we can do for the Republic."

"But much the Republic can do for you. I see," Padmé mused aloud. "This General Zi'Assime. Antham did not seem sure whether the man was still in charge of that operation. Try to find out about him, will you?"

"Yes."

"And, Andarack," she said, stopping him short as he turned away. "Be careful."

"There they are!"

Pointing at the viewport Nuron wore a fresh gleam in her golden eyes. Indeed, straight ahead the Shooting Star was cruising toward a small, green moon. The Star Destroyer had picked up a sizeable entourage of five heavy assault cruisers and four ships of a design Luke had never seen before. They were sleek and seemed to meld into the background easily, as if they were camouflaged somehow. As Luke steered the Morning Glory closer he felt anxious to see those ships up close.

"They are hailing us," his co-pilot announced suddenly and gave him a pleading glance.

"Why don't you answer then?" he said encouragingly, and smiled at her. While she went through the formalities he was completely intent on the Chiss fleet. They had formed an arrow-head that pointed straight at the moon, with the Shooting Star and the heavy cruisers at the bottom and the rest spreading out above them. If those ships were as fast as they looked they would be able to strike quickly and hard.

"Commander Al'than'erduo says hello," Nuron commented at last. "He's aboard that ship over there," she added, indicating one of the strange craft. Moving the Morning Glory closer to their destined target Luke felt his eyes widen in delight. The ship's hull was covered with an intricate pattern that created the blending effect he had noticed before. The colors shifted with their approach, always making the ship vanish partly, confusing the eye. "Nice touch," the Zabrak said, sounding genuinely impressed.

"Yes. They are beautiful." Up ahead the bulkhead seemed to suddenly split apart to open into a hangar bay, but then Luke realized that it had been open all the time, that the angle of their approach had simply disguised the opening. "Amazing," he ventured quietly, thoroughly awed. Settling their ship down on the deck carefully he was glad when he could sense the ship touch down. The optical illusion permeated even the cruiser's interior. Nuron was quick to vanish aft to gather their belongings, but Luke saw her slip her lightsaber underneath her tunic, out of sight. He wondered briefly at that, but he guessed that she simply did not want to affront their hosts.

As they walked down the landing ramp of the Morning Glory side by side Luke had a hard time focusing on their welcome committee. The sights were simply too fascinating. Small single pilot star fighters had been berthed a bit to the left in neat rows, but as they walked further down the ramp the young Jedi noticed that the pattern they formed was pleasing the eye with its simplicity. He nudged Nuron's ribs slightly to draw her attention the the fighters, but she was staring ahead grimly. Following her gaze Luke felt a frown form on his forehead.

Commander Al'than'eruduo's uniform almost made him invisible against the coloring of the deck. Standing tall, his hands crossed on his back, he wore an unreadable expression on his face. Once the two newcomers had reached the deck he gave Luke a sharp nod.

"Welcome back, Master Skywalker." Reluctantly he shifted his eyes to regard Nuron. "And you, Nuron Sarin."

Luke could almost see Nuron's shoulders sag with relief inwardly, but on the outside she remained stiff and tall. "Thank you, Commander," he answered smoothly and nodded at their surroundings. "A new ship?"

Suddenly the commander's face lit up. "An old one. The base at Nirauan suggested that each officer train on the Imperial ships. The Shooting Star is not usually under my command. And I am not leading this fleet."

"If I may ask, who is leading it?"

"Syndic Ech'an'dana. You may meet him later on. This," he said with a proud smile, "is the Chiss Stealth Cruiser Mahsenda. The Mahsenda are aquatic predators originating from Kynda'bey, a world close to SAO-209404, which also use optical illusion to cover their approach. By the way, Master Skywalker, I have taken the liberty of preparing something for you on that world."

"Thank you, Commander. A beautiful ship," Luke confessed sincerely and gestured toward the ceiling. "A truly inspiring craft."

"That she is," a beaming Al'than'erduo agreed readily and Nuron snorted at that.

"Men," she hissed under her breath. "Do you have any news on Master Chi'in?"

Al'than'erudo frowned at her pensively. "Not yet. We have found his ship, demolished, but it was not damaged in a crash. There are signs of battle close to the site and our scouts have discovered enemy fighters in the vicinity."

"You believe he has been taken prisoner?" Luke asked quietly.

"It is as good a guess as any other. Come. Let me show you to your quarters. Syndic Ech'an'dana has called a meeting to inform you on our progress and strategy. It will be held in five hours aboard the Shooting Star."

"Good!" Smiling at the Chiss brightly Luke felt his heart lighten ever so slightly. They were with friends now, and they would help them find Chi'in again. Everything would be well after all.

Roganda, having summoned the courage to leave her perch on the bed at last, stood at the window overlooking one of the inner courtyards of the Imperial Palace. It brought back dire memories, sad ones mostly. She remembered walking those parks with Erinin and later with her little son, who had been fascinated by the flowers and trees. As a toddler Irek had been a most lovable child. His bright blue eyes had shone all the time. Until Palpatine had had him sent to Arkania, where Nasdra Magrody had been working together with the native scientists on a chip that was then implanted into Irek's brain. The experience had been horrible for the boy, she knew, but who was she to stand up to her master?

Irek had lost his trust in her then. His disappointment in her letting those things be done to him, her apparent indifference to his suffering, had opened an abyss between them, one she had never been able to close again fully. Her master certainly had had no interest in her gaining too much control over his supposed heir, and so Erinin had taken over Irek's training and become his confidant. Roganda was aware of the fact that the bodyguard had regretted his part in separating Irek from her, but he had only considered the child's benefits and losses, not hers.

When her son had left her back at Yaga Minor she had known that he must be glad to go, to be rid of her at last, but it hurt to face the truth. It hurt very much.

"Roganda Ismaren?"

Her reverie interrupted she turned her head to glance at a youngish clerk who studied her questioningly. "Yes?" she asked.

"I have a call for you."

"For me? Who is it?"

"Grand Admiral Thrawn, apparently:" Her right hand flew up to her throat in shock. That she had not anticipated. "Are you all right?" the clerk inquired, concern in his voice.

"Yes," she managed at last and took a few steps toward him. "I – " She threw a frantic look around. "Give me a few moments to – " Again she broke off, embarrassed.

He simply nodded, tactfully ignoring the blush creeping onto her pale cheeks. Vanishing into the fresher Roganda stared at her own face – an oval framed by long, black tresses of hair, her skin far too pale – and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. Who was she kidding? The days of youthful vanity were long past. She had grow older, resigned, and he would simply have to take her the way she was now. Not that she could afford vanity at this point. He had every reason to be angry with her, she had done her best to achieve that, after all. What was she thinking? Banishing her conflicting emotions into the back of her mind Roganda raised her chin haughtily, her black eyes turning cold and hard. Whatever might have been between them was now lost forever. There was no way back.

But when she stood facing him again she could not help thinking that he had not changed one bit. His red eyes were unfathomable, but there was just a hint of sadness lingering around the corners of his mouth. Wearing his white uniform that set off his pale blue skin spectacularly he sat in his chair silently, simply regarding her for what seemed an eternity.

Finally Roganda could not bear the silence any longer. "Can we speak freely?" she asked, and her voice surprised her. It had a pleading edge to it, a slight, breathless whining. Gulping down her sudden uncertainty she made herself look calm and composed, even though she knew that there was no fooling him.

"Of course," he said softly. "I am alone," he added, to reassure her that no one would overhear whatever she had to say, implying at the same time that this would be a personal conversation.

Roganda nodded hastily. "My son. He is all right?"

"He is alive," was all he said, echoing what the Princess had told her already, but his tone had turned decidedly cold.

"Did he hurt you?" she asked in a whisper. She had wanted to hurt him, had she not? Then why was she acting so apologetic now? Because she felt guilty, terribly guilty, over what she had done to her own child.

"Not much. But he hurt others." Leaning toward her in his chair he sought her gaze and she made herself meet his eyes valiantly. "He killed his bodyguard, Erinin."

Roganda let out a loud gasp. "No!" Shaking her head in denial she turned pleading eyes on the Grand Admiral. "No, that cannot be true! Irek adored him!"

"Apparently he has grown out of that sentiment," Thrawn answered drily and she perceived his tone as unnecessarily cruel. Sinking to the floor in numb acceptance of the inevitable Roganda waved the clerk away when he rushed toward her to help her up again.

Her every nightmare had come true. Only hours before she had told Leia that she would never let her son become a simile of his father. But she had achieved exactly that with her foolishness. Her voice was hollow when she said: "I cannot believe that I let it come so far. I should have protected him better."

"Your son is searching for a purpose," he told her. "He is trying to find his place in this galaxy and he needs someone to show him the way."

"Erinin was his idol," Roganda repeated. "But I suppose Irek realized that, as bodyguard, he would never dare assume the role of a guide, that he would always defer to his charge."

Thrawn kept silent for a long time. "Roganda," he addressed her softly at last. "Before he died Erinin told me that Irek has a sister."

"Half-sister." She nodded to herself, resignation covering her fear and despair gradually. "Her name is Yana Dar. She is an information broker of notable skill and reputation. Irek adores her too," she added with a bitter laugh. "She is smart and she doesn't scrape or bow to him."

"She is Force-strong?"

Roganda shook her head. "No. At least I do not think so."

"You don't, by any chance, know where she is right now?"

"No, I am sorry," she sighed. "I really am sorry. I made a terrible mistake, Grand Admiral. I wanted to hurt you, and I used any means available to achieve that goal. I used my own son for my ends and it has brought him nothing but darkness. Whatever I can do to make that mistake undone – "

"Would you betray your son?" he asked harshly and Roganda's eyes widened in shock. "No? I thought so. Then don't make promises you cannot keep. Your son is dangerous. Personally, I believe he is insane. If I find him again I will not hesitate in eliminating that threat. But I have other worries that concern me more than your son's fate. My only reason for calling was to hear your apology."

"Then you forgive me?" Her voice broke.

Glowing eyes narrowed ever so slightly he stared at her hard. "You acted to the best of your knowledge," he told her coldly. "And I understand that you were a victim of your master's manipulations."

"I know," she sobbed quietly, realizing that his goal had been to see her humiliated all along, to confront her with her own miserable life and tell her to the face that she was a fool, an imbecile, who had fallen in absolutely every trap her master had laid out for her. Crying openly now she did not dare meet his eyes again. Once upon a time she had hoped that he would become her savior, but he had disappointed her even then. And with her stupid scheme of revenge she had lost even what little respect he might have had for her before. The question was whether she wanted to earn it once more, of whether she could accept her failure.

"Roganda, please, look at me," the Grand Admiral said at last. She obeyed instanly, not at all ashamed at the hopeful expression she must be wearing on her tear-streaked face. He did not smile at her, but she fancied that his eyes had softened just a bit. "Your son has no one left to guide him, and if I do not find him first someone else will. Perhaps this someone will teach him and bring him back, but he might just as well use his powers for his own ends, the way you did, become his master. The third possibility – " he stopped, the threat plain even if it remained unspoken. That Irek would die. "You now have a chance to recognize your mistake and move on. Use it well."

When Andarack came back from his scouting mission three hours later than expected, with a makeshift bandage covering a nasty blaster burn on his left shoulder and a battered-looking Twi'lek in tow, Padmé knew they were in trouble.

"Anja!" she called. "Whatever isn't packed yet will be left behind."

Her secretary strode into the living-room wordlessly, two bundles slung across her back, and handed Padmé a third. "Everything is ready," she announced. "I have contacted Captain Ithik of our untimely departure. He will meet us on the surface."

"First we have to get there," Padmé reminded her briskly and ran a hand over the Noghri's wound. "Is it bad?"

He shook his head, then indicated his companion. "This is Cesh Kendar. You were right. There are detention camps out in the mountains," he told Anja, who gave him a proud smile.

"Excellent. No time for anything more detailed now, we gotta go. Hurry!" Pushing Andarack and Anja ahead of her Padmé gripped her blaster firmly and gave Cesh Kendar a grim nod.

"General Page, did he get out?" he asked breathlessly as they followed the Noghri through the mostly empty hallways of the building.

"Yes. Silent now, we need to spare our strength."

Rounding a corner she found her way blocked by the motionless forms of four troopers and had the presence of mind not to stumble over that unexpected obstacle. She could just make out Anja vanishing behind another corner and made a dash toward her. But Cesh Kendar was in no shape to keep up. Wheezing pitifully he labored after her and Padmé turned back toward him with concern. He seemed to be half starved and dehydrated and his eyes looked incredibly tired.

"Just – leave me here," he whispered, but Padmé ignored him.

"Anja!" she hissed, to gain her aide's attention. The woman returned hastily, her face flushed with concentration. "He won't make it without help," Padmé explained to her and frowned. "Where is Andarack?"

"There they are!" a voice shouted from behind them and Padmé threw her head around to stare at more stormtroopers spilling into the corridor. Some already held their blasters ready. Not wanting to risk to find out the hard way whether the weapons were set on stun or kill Padmé darted for the corner, dragging Cesh Kendar after her while Anja pushed from behind. The Twi'lek was their sole witness, and they had to bring him out alive.

Up ahead the sound of blaster fire told them that Andarack was keeping himself busy too. Studying the doors leading from the corridor Padmé chose one at random and opened it. Anja and Kendar followed right behind. "Jam the lock," she ordered her aide and the woman complied instantly, frying the circuitry with a single shot from her blaster. Padmé gave the room a thorough once-over and grimaced ever so slightly. There was no other way to get out except a ventilation grid installed into the ceiling.

"I think we are trapped," Anja commented quietly.

"Not yet. Give me a hand here. Perhaps I can loosen that grid." Anja folded her hands and formed a stirrup for Padmé to place her left boot in, but just as she was propelled upward Cesh Kendar's voice startled her.

"No! The grids are booby-trapped!" Both women turned large eyes at him. "To keep rodents and insects out," he explained.

Hastily ripping a piece of cloth off her sleeve Padmé knotted it together a few times, then threw it at the grid to see if it really was electrified. The cloth turned to sizzling ashes instantly upon reaching the target. Just at that moment a loud crash at the door announced the impending visit of a few unwelcome guests. Hefting her blaster tightly Padmé nodded at Anja.

"I suppose we have no other choice – "

Overhead the ventilation grid clattered ominously, then popped out of its hinges and landed on the floor with a loud jingle.

"Get moving!" Andarack ordered as he leaned out of the ventilation shaft, extending a clawed hand toward Padmé. The booming noise returned, angrier this time. Very soon the troopers would break through.

"Cesh Kendar first," she insisted and dragged the Twi'lek over toward the opening. Anja helped her hoist the alien up and it really was a struggle, but once Andarack got a grip on Kendar's hand everything went very quickly. "Anja Dumilor is next," the Noghri told them and for a moment Padmé felt uncertain. He noticed her hesitation and gave her a wry smile. "You are next after her, but I must be last," he explained. "You are too short to reach up here."

"And you aren't?" she asked nastily, but did not protest further. She staggered a bit under Anja's weight, and heaved a relieved sigh when the Noghri dropped down next to her. Holding her legs he lifted her toward Anja, the taller of the two, who grabbed Padmé's hand and drew her up into the shaft. It was very dark in there, and Padmé threw a fearful look down at the Noghri. "Andarack! Hurry! We won't find the way without you!" she hissed, but just at that moment the door broke out of its frame.

"The ventilation shaft!" someone shouted and three troopers immediately ran toward the opening, blaster rifles cocked at an upward angle.

"Get back!" Padmé ordered her companions and scrambled further down the shaft. Three shots blew gaping holes into the ceiling and she screamed in surprise and fear. "Everyone all right?" she whispered, once she had calmed down once more. Stuttering blaster-fire filled their ears.

"Yes," Anja answered quietly.

"Yeah," Cesh Kendar added.

Padmé considered crawling back toward the opening to check on Andarack, but that would be plain stupid. When he suddenly appeared in front of her, jumping lightly into the shaft opening, she screamed again, but this time the scream turned into relieved laughter.

"How did you do that?" she asked as they hurried down the shaft, the Noghri in the lead.

"Stormtroopers make for quite comfortable ladders," he answered and she could imagine his smile in the dark. For some reason he reminded her more and more of Chi'in.

"Tell me," she began hesitantly, "is everyone in your clan related somehow?"

Turning his head he gave her a surprised glance. "Of course. Chi'in clan Rim'kai is my great-uncle."

"Ah." Padmé nodded to herself in satisfaction. But in the farthest corner of her mind she wondered whether Andarack might not share more with his relative than his combat skills.

"Captain Ithik will pick us up at the upper main ventilation exhaust," he explained.

Padmé refocused her thoughts on their escape. "Good. Let's hope we make it that far."

They did make it. And a few hours later they were safely in hyperspace and on their way back to Coruscant.

"I still am not sure what this is about," Tomas Piett repeated, but the initial surprise had faded somewhat.

"Well, neither am I," the woman sitting across from him countered. She looked rather relaxed and she wore a smile on her face. Tomas had had plenty of time to find out more about his mysterious rescuer and would undoubtedly have found out more if she had been willing to talk. As it was, though, Raisa had proven to be pretty close-mouthed beyond what politeness demanded.

Since his arrival Tomas had established contact to the local government and made new arrangements on behalf of the Republic. Now, as he sat in the living-room of the apartment they had rented, waiting, he mused that he might have been a bit too successful on his last mission. There had been seven calls so far, five representatives of worlds he had visited on his diplomatic trip to ensure loyal allies for the Republic. The more problematic ones, though, were the two representatives of the former Imperial Court, Anto Andorwyn and Nya Olesh, both Kuati and both wealthy and influential, who had also announced their impending visit.

After the Rebel Alliance's victory over Coruscant and the truce with Grand Admiral Thrawn the Core Worlds had sworn allegiance to the New Republic quickly. Most moffs and governors had left their territories then, to rejoin the Empire, which had still remained strong in quite a few systems. With them the Imperial Court had also scattered. Lord Skywalker had informed Tomas of the scheme Princess Leia had uncovered on Yaga Minor, and therefore Andorwyn's visit was not entirely unexpected. Perhaps not at all, considering the latest information he had received.

Grand Admiral Tious Markhan had proven an adept diplomat with his move on Yaga Minor, which had appeased many. If the New Republic now addressed the public again with seemingly baseless accusations in connection with Ryloth Mon Mothma's government would lose much credibilty. Therefore Piett had been pleasantly surprised by the positive responses he had gotten from the Bibringi government and the others, yet he was also agitated. What would they say to Andorwyn's presence?

At first glance it might seem foolish to invite all of them not only to a private apartment, but additionally to include an Imperial representative. But Tomas knew his visitors well and their motives were clear to him. Andorwyn and Olesh would ask for asylum, perhaps, in any case for a deal with the New Republic to protect them against Markhan's wrath. The others would want reassurance that the New Republic government would not let itself be embarrassed again. So the Admiral was feeling pretty confident, despite the few uncertainties. He knew exactly what this would be about, contrary to what he had just told Raisa, but he was not a man who took things for granted. When he had served the Dark Lord he had learned that subterfuge and manipulation made life in politics very interesting. And unfortunately he now was a politician, not a fleet commander any longer.

"Here they come," Raisa announced when the doorbell chimed twice. She rose from her seat to open the door and threw Piett one last look. "You'll do well, I am sure," she said softly, to his great surprise. As it turned out, though, he would be pretty overwhelmed by what happened next.

The first mild shock was the presence of Lemit Zickorey, current governor of Bilbringi, who led the small procession of representatives into the room with a big, benvolent smile on his face. Tomas, who had taken up position next to the window in a rather relaxed pose straightened with a start. "Sir!" he exclaimed, before he caught himself again and extended a hand toward Zickorey with renewed confidence. "A pleasure to have you here."

"The pleasure is all mine, Admiral."

"Councilor Pi, Senator Quek," Piett nodded at the representatives of Rhinnal and Chandrila,

"I am honored by your coming here. Minister H'jer and Lady Fawl, I am very pleased to welcome you tonight," he told the pair that had come on behalf of Esseles and Brentaal. The last into the room was a tall human who gave the others a hard glance. The Admiral greeted him with a military nod: "General Oethal, an honor."

So, the ambassador from Corulag was also here. Now they only had to wait for the Kuati to arrive and half of the worlds of the Perlemian Trade Route would be represented here. Tomas addressed the assembly with a pleasant smile. "Thank you again for coming, all of you. I am sure your business is a serious one, but I suppose we all can deal better with it sitting down. Please, after you." He waited until his guests were seated before he took a place next to Zickorey. The governor gave his fellows a short nod, before he turned toward Piett once more.

"We will not deny that we are all somewhat disturbed by current events in the political arena. The Empire is trying to regain the worlds it has lost to the New Republic over the past year while the New Republic itself is striving for more power." Tomas said nothing, so Zickorey continued after a brief pause. "Therefore we, myself and my esteemed collegues, have discussed these events at length and come to a conclusion. Although we recognize the great part the New Republic leaders played in our liberation from the Empire we do not want to become political pawns like Ryloth. We have therefore decided to form a confederation."

"I can see that this comes as a bit of a shock," Lady Fawl injected gently and leaned toward the gape-mouthed Admiral with a smile. "But you see, we are under the impression that neither the Empire nor the New Republic care for our worlds for our own sake, only for theirs. That is, of course, understandable, but we want a stronger position between them. We do not want our trade regulations dictated by one or the other, we want independence."

"I understand," Piett croaked at last, "but let me assure you that the New Republic will be most fair with – "

"Admiral," Zickorey interrupted him, "we all have heard your arguments. We all are aware of the Republic's generous offer. Unfortunately we see ourselves unable to committ to it."

"I – I am at a loss of what to say," Tomas confessed, exhaling slowly. This certainly was any diplomat's nightmare! On cue the bell chimed again and a few moments later Raisa led Anto Andorwyn and Nya Olesh into the living-room. Frosty silence settled over the assembly and Piett was too shocked to say anything.

Finally Senator Quek of Chandrila spoke up: "Your presence, Lord Andorwyn, does not come as a surprise to us. We are all aware of why you have come."

"To speak to Admiral Piett," the Kuati replied haughtily. "I can see that he is busy, though. And his apparent intent to have the two of us meet you, too, leads me to doubt his diplomatic skills," he added in an acid tone.

"You are quite mistaken there!" Zickorey crowed gleefully. "Admiral Piett was just about to accept the presidency for the soon to be established Confederate Zone."

"What?" the Admiral whispered, unnoticed.

"Is that so?" Andorwyn mused aloud, a calculating glance in his eyes. "Then it would be my pleasure to offer Admiral Piett my assistance. I am certain we could come to a mutual agreement concerning Kuat."

Anakin was in quite a good mood when he received the call by Tomas Piett and he was certain that the Admiral did not appreciate his amusement at all, when he told him about what had happened at that unfortunate meeting on Bilbringi.

"This is a catastrophe!"

"Is it, Piett?" the Dark Lord chuckled. "Why? You have proven that you are probably one of the very best diplomats this galaxy has ever seen. And you have been offered the post as president for that new secor they want to found. That is a great compliment, to my mind."

"You don't understand! They are sincere! Even Andorwyn!"

"I understand very well, Admiral," Anakin countered, his mirth fading somewhat. "But I am not sure if that is such a bad idea."

"How so?"

"A matter of administrative effort and competition, export and import, diplomatic entanglements, military alliances. The possibilities are endless. If there were three, or four if we count the Hutts, seperate and independent governments in the galaxy I believe we could achieve a much more stable state of affair than if we fight the Empire for dominance."

"Sir, are you serious?"

"It needs some more thought, but it is worth a discussion. By recognizing their independence we show other worlds that we are not like the Empire, who is playing foul on Ryloth."

"Do you have finally found proof for that?"

"My wife is on her way back, and she does have proof."

"Ah. Excellent." Piett remained silent for a short while. "I see your point, Lord Skywalker. It all comes down to Ryloth, doesn't it? What is happening there will happen on a larger scale all over the galaxy. Everyone will be looking for the one government that can serve their interests best."

"I suppose so," Anakin answered with a smile. "A new beginning. In every sense of the word. I believe we can only postpone the inevitable. But if one government tries to rule this galaxy alone ..." he hesitated. "It is a matter of belief. We had only the Empire to believe in, but with the exploits of the Old Republic to remember that belief could not last. Now people can believe in the New Republic and still have the example of the Empire before them and can believe that it is better to live in the New Republic than the Empire. Just as your friends decided they can believe in neither government, but could believe in you."

"You mean that with different governments each government will find itself competing with the other?"

"Yes. An independent control system, if you will. If one government turns hostile, I am sure the others will remember the past and intervene."

"And who will keep the memories alive?"

"That, my friend, will be the duty of the Jedi."

But he knew that this could not be their only duty. They also were the ones who, if they retained their independence, would be able to fathom the different political schemes going on. The way Leia was attempting to now, and what he was doing still. It had begun with the revelation about Roj Kell's scheme, which had initiated something completely different than had been apparent at first sight. And it had forced Anakin to ponder Yana Dar's motives more closely, hers and those of her allies. Sarreti's, for one. He knew that the man could not have acted on his own and the most convenient connection to Yana would have been Abla Othana, a known Imperial agent. Abla, who had also worked with Joral.

And the Hutt, as Temann Page had confirmed, in turn had been receiving his orders both from Tious Markhan and a mysterious someone, probably Sarreti. Who apparently had deployed an agent to Ryloth to do exactly what Kell had done there. The agent sent had been a Sith, if Joral's words were to be believed. How else could he have assumed that Kell was a Sith in the first place, if he had not been expecting one? And expect him he had. The mysterious opponent of Tious Markhan now had a name and the only one missing was his agent. Unfortunately Anakin had a dire suspicion as to who that one might be. But he had to wait just a little bit longer until he would have him within his grasp again.

Luke and Nuron had spent a few quiet hours together, enjoying the small luxuries their cabin had to offer. Now, though, they were getting ready for their meeting with Syndic Ech'an'dana. Luke was dressed in a simple black uniform while Nuron had donned her Sith attire. She did look magificent, beautiful and deadly, Yet her eyes were full of love and made him smile fondly.

"Think you are up to a strategic session?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Well, I might not have trained with Father, but I suppose you'll manage for me," he replied with a grin. There was a knock on the door. Disengaging from her lover Nuron walked over and opened it. As expected their visitor was Commander Al'than'erudo.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, of course." For a moment Luke considered taking his lightsaber with him, but then decided against it. Nuron had also left her weapons behind. "Let's go," he said as he joined Al'than'erduo out in the corridor.

On their way to the shuttle that would take them over to the Shooting Star the commander told them a bit more about the fleet. The Star Destroyer had been given to the Chiss by the Emperor, but the Council had never officially acknowledge that gift, because it had been made to Grand Admiral Thrawn. Over the last year, though, the Council had adopted an easier stance toward the base at Nirauan. Now Chiss went to study with the soldiers stationed there and the officers of the fleet were required to serve a contingent of hours on one of the Imperial ships. The Stealth Cruisers made up most of the fleet, though.

"Perhaps you will get a chance to fly our scout craft, too," Al'than'erudo finished his report as they walked through the hangar bay toward the shuttle.

"Those would be the fighters we first saw in the Mahsenda's hangar?" Luke asked.

"Yes. They are not all that useful in combat, but excellent scout ships."

"I think I would really like to try a ride in one of those," the young Jedi admitted wistfully.

The short trip on the shuttle was spent mostly in silence, and somehow Luke regretted that the meeting was being held on the Star Destroyer. He would rather have stayed on the Mahsenda and discovered more of that ship.

Once arrived on the Shooting Star Al'than'erudo led them toward a strategic meeting room, where a 3D star chart had been displayed already. Chiss faces regarded the newcomers dispassionately, but Luke could sense that Nuron felt incredibly uncomfortable. No wonder. If all commanders were like Al'than'erudo –

"I bring you Master Skywalker and his companion, Nuron Sarin," Al'than'erudo told the assembly.

"Ah," a booming voice greeted them and an elderly Chiss came around the star chart, a smile on his face. "We have heard much about you," he said. "I am Ech'an'dana, commander of this battle-group."

"We are – uh – grateful for your assistance," Luke tried awkwardly.

"Assistance? I was given to understand that you would assist us. Commander Al'than'erudo will be taking his flight out for a scout mission into the Lieman Corridor soon. Since your friend has apparently been taken there also I thought you might want to accompany the commander."

"You know where they went?" Nuron asked, frowning.

"Undoubtedly they will gather reinforcements to attack Nirauan in greater numbers."

"You believe this was only a foray party?" she asked further.

"Evidence seems to point that way. They have sent out scouts to secure an attack corridor and that is the one I need you to gather intelligence on, A dangerous mission, but the two of you have trained with Master Chi'in." He made it sound as if it were the highest military honor to have studied with the Noghri. Luke could only agree.

"How many scouts?" the Zabrak continued, ignoring the praise.

"To our knowledge there are currently sixteen smaller vessels and four larger ones." Syndic Ech'an'dana gave Nuron an appraising look. "Commander Al'than'erudo already told me that you have a gift for tactics, Nuron Sarin. If you would step this way, I would like to show you the defensive pattern we had planned."

Eyebrows rising in consternation Luke found himself staring at Al'than'erudo. Al'than'erudo had told his superior that Nuron had a gift for tactics? Eyeing the Chiss suspiciously Luke wondered whether they might have misinterpreted the man's comments aboard the Shooting Star completely. The other was gazing straight ahead, as if afraid to meet Luke's gaze. Following his line of sight Luke noticed that this slightly embarrased look was directed at Nuron, who was barely visible on the other side of the star chart. Aha!

He took a step closer to Al'than'erudo, hoping to make the other a bit more uncomfortable.

To his surprise the Chiss turned his head abruptly and his glowing red eyes met the Jedi's seemingly unimpressed. Again Luke had to admit that Al'than'erduo was, all in all, probably quite attractive to females. But Nuron did not make the impression as if she had fallen for his looks. Quite the contrary. Nevertheless he vowed to himself that he would keep a very close eye on the commander.

TBC