Chapter 11
The suite of rooms the In'ca Din'ca had supplied Luke, Corran, and Bel Iblis with were relatively comfortable, even given their differing physiologies. The lights were slightly dimmer than was normally comfortable, and everything was about a half size larger than was needed, but they were acceptable to human standards. A somewhat larger and more streamlined refresher occupied the corner of each of the three bedrooms, and the mattresses themselves were massive constructs of an odd plastic substance very resilient to the touch. The main chamber held a data terminal conformed to human hands and a small table on which to eat or do other work.
As Luke strode about the room, accustoming himself to all the round edges and alien curves common to In'ca Din'ca architecture, he thought he detected a faint resonance, an odd buzz in the Force that reminded him of the Jedi Master M'niisonn in the upper chamber. That idea both brought a grin to his face and a shadow on his heart. Though it was wondrous to come across other Jedi again, his heart seemed to be warning him to constantly question this new reality, as if there were hidden dangers everywhere.
The door hissed suddenly open, breaking Luke's reverie and prompting a quick about-face to confront Corran and Garm Bel Iblis marching tiredly through the door, visible circles painting sacs of exhaustion under their eyes. Every motion of their limbs brought a little shudder to their forms.
Luke winced as Corran sagged into a cushy seat, sinking nearly half a foot in. "The In'ca Din'ca Council wring you out?" he asked sympathetically.
Bel Iblis coughed wearily, and then shook his head in exasperation. "More like crushed us," he sighed. "They are surprisingly willing to make this alliance work, but convincing them it'll be profitable is extremely difficult."
Corran growled deep in his throat. "They don't have the world's clearest idea about how unbalanced our government and holdings are. I think they know that we're desperate, but think that we can take a few worlds back to give to them in exchange, when in reality, we're already stretched to breaking."
Luke hummed absently to himself as he thought about that. It didn't make sense that the Jedi upstairs would know that much about the resistance and Republic while the leaders went ignorant. Someone was deceiving someone here.
"What about you, Luke?" Bel Iblis asked. "Where'd they take you for all that time?"
So Luke related his encounter with the In'ca Din'ca Jedi, sparking raised eyebrows and soft whistles among his two companions. Certainly no one had ever truly suspected the Jedi would emerge again, but having a whole cabal of them just appearing out of thin air was near to a miracle.
"They seemed friendly, then, Luke?" Bel Iblis asked after he'd finished his tale about the Jedi's battles with various enemies throughout their portion of the galaxy.
Luke hesitated. "Friendly enough," he finally said. "But their presence in the Force is odd, almost as if they're still masking themselves. I can't get a much better indication that there are Jedi here than I could of animals scurrying around beneath my field of vision." He paused for thought. "Either they're so used to hiding that they're not about to give it up, or they still have some need of secrecy."
"Well, the leaders aren't much different, except a whole lot more inclined to argue," Corran put in. "They will share military data and some technology with us, but they still feel very... furtive, to me." Corran's latent Force sensibilities, though still untrained and unfocused, gave him insights as useful as Luke's did sometimes; made even more effective since it was not common knowledge he possessed the abilities.
"Politics is made up of lie, deception, and counter-deception," Bel Iblis sighed. "We can't expect that to change now just because we need allies. How do we convince them to decisively throw in with the rebellion?"
Silence descended like a heavy blanket for several seconds while everyone thought hard on the thorny problem. Some way to convince the aliens that it was in their best interests...
"How about we offer them a place in the New Republic government once we've reestablished it?" Corran finally said. "Give them an Advisory Council seat, Defense Force contracts- we need ships now that Mon Calamari's gone- that sort of thing. Everyone wants a slice of the pie no matter what, and we can deliver a fairly big one."
"I doubt the In'ca Din'ca want to be controlled by a political entity thousands of light years from them," Bel Iblis said.
"We'll need a new constitution anyway once we've defeated Thrawn," Corran said. "What if we didn't put people under our total authority? Shift the governments down more to the planets, let them work it out. All we need to be is a peacekeeper and galactic legislation force."
Bel Iblis' eyes twinkled. "We may have something there," he admitted. "But before we go to the Council with it, we need to draft something, a sample agreement if you will. After all, we have the authority to speak and bind for the resistance."
"Well, how much military support do you think they'd be willing to give us? I mean, the military has over 800 battleships; surely they could lend at least half their fleet to freeing the galaxy," Corran said.
"But remember," Luke pointed out, "If we make this agreement, we need to be able to count on those ships again later, if another enemy shows up. They may not want to have half of their defenses continually on call."
"Hey, we're setting the terms, but we can always change them in negotiations, right?" Corran said. "Besides, getting rid of Thrawn is in their best interests, and they know it."
"The only question is: do they need us to do it?" Bel Iblis said suddenly, and the room got a lot colder for the humans after that.
Sparks rained down like miniature embers, and intermixed with them came globular hailstones of flash-melted durasteel, shaken loose from bulkheads and sprayed in every direction by torpedo impacts. Consoles were strewn across the floor like broken toys, some of them bearing red smears dictating their brutal paths through friendly bodies. The transparisteel viewport at the front of the bridge was starred by multiple hairline fractures and EV-suited workmen outside were frantically smearing quick- seal materials against the breaches to stop air loss.
All in all, it was the worst Wedge had ever seen the bridge of Home One, Admiral Ackbar's command ship. The admiral himself was not here at the moment, due to three different compound fractures of various bones, a severe concussion, and a perforated kidney that was probably being removed right now.
It was likely a miracle that the admiral and his ship had survived at all. According to the battle logs and tactical footage that the teams had been able to salvage from the Home One's shattered computer interfaces, Thrawn had anticipated almost every eventuality from the battle over Bothawui. The only reason Ackbar had escaped at all seemed to be that two of the Interdictor captains had been too slow to obey orders, and the admiral's Star Cruiser and a Bulk Cruiser half-filled with E-wings had raced past the Imperials as they fled the bombardment of the last New Republic stronghold. Even the resistance's aborted Operation Phalanx Guard with its pincer attack would not have been able to turn the tide.
It had been a sad sight, striding onto the ruined bridge with the last medical team and seeing the Admiral, slumped in his chair with agony, surrounded by the ruin of his ship, and comprehending at last that the New Republic was officially dead.
Karrde and his tacticians also considered the possibility that Thrawn had let the ships escape to lead him to the resistance's hiding places. However, it was only by chance that one of Wedge's patrols under Wes Janson had encountered the distress buoy and transponder of Home One and called for immediate backup. Both ships had been searched thoroughly, and no trace had been found of homing beacons. Signals had been monitored all the way back to the hidden resistance base, and nothing had been found to indicate a tracking device.
Wedge stood beside the twisted chair that had once held the proudest and most brilliant tactician of the New Republic, letting one gloved hand stroked slowly along the chair arm. With the destruction of Bothawui, New Republic battle groups all over the galaxy would be fleeing to find hiding places. The resistance's numbers could easily double or more. It wouldn't be enough to win the war, however; Wedge was surprised that there was still no news from Luke and the others.
"Commander?" one of the techs called from his position near the fragments of a databank console. "We've just finished our scans and projections for repairing the ship, sir."
Finally, some good news! Wedge picked his way carefully across the bridge to the technician, eagerly awaiting some good tidings at last. Nothing seemed to be going right, lately. "How long to repair?" he asked eagerly.
The technician hesitated. "I don't think we can, frankly," he said. "It would be best if we just scuttled the ship, sir."
"Sad, for the Admiral to lose his last battle and then his ship as well," Karrde said solemnly to Wedge. They were both seated in Karrde's office, discussing the grim fate of the Star Cruiser, forced to be blasted to pieces by a volley of torpedoes and turbolaser blasts, lest the Imperials find her and extract information from her.
Wedge nodded numbly. "We're just taking hit after hit after hit," he growled, more to himself than the other man. "Sooner or later, some of them are going to question if it's worth it and turn themselves- or us- in."
Karrde sighed heavily. "We have no other choice than to keep fighting," he said. "Now, what progress do we have on the Noghri plan?"
Wedge winced. "Well, Kenji's idea is still the best one, but I'm not quite sure how we're going to get ourselves onto the Chimera for the transmission without being detected and apprehended."
"We'll have to hope for a miracle, won't we?" Karrde said wryly.
Suddenly, an alarm split the air, a shriek of clashing tones and wailing sirens. An alert of that magnitude meant only one thing: massive unknown forces dropping out of lightspeed.
"The Imperials?" Wedge asked incredulously. "There was no homing device! I checked myself!"
"Hold on, Commander," Karrde said, tapping a few keys on his console. "Just wait until I can get more-" Karrde never got a chance to say what more he would get for Wedge. With a fizzle of static and white noise, and image burst into space over the holopad.
It was Garm Bel Iblis. "Resistance forces, do not be alarmed," he said in a strong, clear voice. "This is General Garm Bel Iblis, aboard the In'ca Din'ca flagship Martyr's Glory. I come to bring news of an agreed treaty between the In'ca Din'ca Combine and the resistance forces. I have over 350 battleships at my back, and I think it's time we put an end to Thrawn."
The suite of rooms the In'ca Din'ca had supplied Luke, Corran, and Bel Iblis with were relatively comfortable, even given their differing physiologies. The lights were slightly dimmer than was normally comfortable, and everything was about a half size larger than was needed, but they were acceptable to human standards. A somewhat larger and more streamlined refresher occupied the corner of each of the three bedrooms, and the mattresses themselves were massive constructs of an odd plastic substance very resilient to the touch. The main chamber held a data terminal conformed to human hands and a small table on which to eat or do other work.
As Luke strode about the room, accustoming himself to all the round edges and alien curves common to In'ca Din'ca architecture, he thought he detected a faint resonance, an odd buzz in the Force that reminded him of the Jedi Master M'niisonn in the upper chamber. That idea both brought a grin to his face and a shadow on his heart. Though it was wondrous to come across other Jedi again, his heart seemed to be warning him to constantly question this new reality, as if there were hidden dangers everywhere.
The door hissed suddenly open, breaking Luke's reverie and prompting a quick about-face to confront Corran and Garm Bel Iblis marching tiredly through the door, visible circles painting sacs of exhaustion under their eyes. Every motion of their limbs brought a little shudder to their forms.
Luke winced as Corran sagged into a cushy seat, sinking nearly half a foot in. "The In'ca Din'ca Council wring you out?" he asked sympathetically.
Bel Iblis coughed wearily, and then shook his head in exasperation. "More like crushed us," he sighed. "They are surprisingly willing to make this alliance work, but convincing them it'll be profitable is extremely difficult."
Corran growled deep in his throat. "They don't have the world's clearest idea about how unbalanced our government and holdings are. I think they know that we're desperate, but think that we can take a few worlds back to give to them in exchange, when in reality, we're already stretched to breaking."
Luke hummed absently to himself as he thought about that. It didn't make sense that the Jedi upstairs would know that much about the resistance and Republic while the leaders went ignorant. Someone was deceiving someone here.
"What about you, Luke?" Bel Iblis asked. "Where'd they take you for all that time?"
So Luke related his encounter with the In'ca Din'ca Jedi, sparking raised eyebrows and soft whistles among his two companions. Certainly no one had ever truly suspected the Jedi would emerge again, but having a whole cabal of them just appearing out of thin air was near to a miracle.
"They seemed friendly, then, Luke?" Bel Iblis asked after he'd finished his tale about the Jedi's battles with various enemies throughout their portion of the galaxy.
Luke hesitated. "Friendly enough," he finally said. "But their presence in the Force is odd, almost as if they're still masking themselves. I can't get a much better indication that there are Jedi here than I could of animals scurrying around beneath my field of vision." He paused for thought. "Either they're so used to hiding that they're not about to give it up, or they still have some need of secrecy."
"Well, the leaders aren't much different, except a whole lot more inclined to argue," Corran put in. "They will share military data and some technology with us, but they still feel very... furtive, to me." Corran's latent Force sensibilities, though still untrained and unfocused, gave him insights as useful as Luke's did sometimes; made even more effective since it was not common knowledge he possessed the abilities.
"Politics is made up of lie, deception, and counter-deception," Bel Iblis sighed. "We can't expect that to change now just because we need allies. How do we convince them to decisively throw in with the rebellion?"
Silence descended like a heavy blanket for several seconds while everyone thought hard on the thorny problem. Some way to convince the aliens that it was in their best interests...
"How about we offer them a place in the New Republic government once we've reestablished it?" Corran finally said. "Give them an Advisory Council seat, Defense Force contracts- we need ships now that Mon Calamari's gone- that sort of thing. Everyone wants a slice of the pie no matter what, and we can deliver a fairly big one."
"I doubt the In'ca Din'ca want to be controlled by a political entity thousands of light years from them," Bel Iblis said.
"We'll need a new constitution anyway once we've defeated Thrawn," Corran said. "What if we didn't put people under our total authority? Shift the governments down more to the planets, let them work it out. All we need to be is a peacekeeper and galactic legislation force."
Bel Iblis' eyes twinkled. "We may have something there," he admitted. "But before we go to the Council with it, we need to draft something, a sample agreement if you will. After all, we have the authority to speak and bind for the resistance."
"Well, how much military support do you think they'd be willing to give us? I mean, the military has over 800 battleships; surely they could lend at least half their fleet to freeing the galaxy," Corran said.
"But remember," Luke pointed out, "If we make this agreement, we need to be able to count on those ships again later, if another enemy shows up. They may not want to have half of their defenses continually on call."
"Hey, we're setting the terms, but we can always change them in negotiations, right?" Corran said. "Besides, getting rid of Thrawn is in their best interests, and they know it."
"The only question is: do they need us to do it?" Bel Iblis said suddenly, and the room got a lot colder for the humans after that.
Sparks rained down like miniature embers, and intermixed with them came globular hailstones of flash-melted durasteel, shaken loose from bulkheads and sprayed in every direction by torpedo impacts. Consoles were strewn across the floor like broken toys, some of them bearing red smears dictating their brutal paths through friendly bodies. The transparisteel viewport at the front of the bridge was starred by multiple hairline fractures and EV-suited workmen outside were frantically smearing quick- seal materials against the breaches to stop air loss.
All in all, it was the worst Wedge had ever seen the bridge of Home One, Admiral Ackbar's command ship. The admiral himself was not here at the moment, due to three different compound fractures of various bones, a severe concussion, and a perforated kidney that was probably being removed right now.
It was likely a miracle that the admiral and his ship had survived at all. According to the battle logs and tactical footage that the teams had been able to salvage from the Home One's shattered computer interfaces, Thrawn had anticipated almost every eventuality from the battle over Bothawui. The only reason Ackbar had escaped at all seemed to be that two of the Interdictor captains had been too slow to obey orders, and the admiral's Star Cruiser and a Bulk Cruiser half-filled with E-wings had raced past the Imperials as they fled the bombardment of the last New Republic stronghold. Even the resistance's aborted Operation Phalanx Guard with its pincer attack would not have been able to turn the tide.
It had been a sad sight, striding onto the ruined bridge with the last medical team and seeing the Admiral, slumped in his chair with agony, surrounded by the ruin of his ship, and comprehending at last that the New Republic was officially dead.
Karrde and his tacticians also considered the possibility that Thrawn had let the ships escape to lead him to the resistance's hiding places. However, it was only by chance that one of Wedge's patrols under Wes Janson had encountered the distress buoy and transponder of Home One and called for immediate backup. Both ships had been searched thoroughly, and no trace had been found of homing beacons. Signals had been monitored all the way back to the hidden resistance base, and nothing had been found to indicate a tracking device.
Wedge stood beside the twisted chair that had once held the proudest and most brilliant tactician of the New Republic, letting one gloved hand stroked slowly along the chair arm. With the destruction of Bothawui, New Republic battle groups all over the galaxy would be fleeing to find hiding places. The resistance's numbers could easily double or more. It wouldn't be enough to win the war, however; Wedge was surprised that there was still no news from Luke and the others.
"Commander?" one of the techs called from his position near the fragments of a databank console. "We've just finished our scans and projections for repairing the ship, sir."
Finally, some good news! Wedge picked his way carefully across the bridge to the technician, eagerly awaiting some good tidings at last. Nothing seemed to be going right, lately. "How long to repair?" he asked eagerly.
The technician hesitated. "I don't think we can, frankly," he said. "It would be best if we just scuttled the ship, sir."
"Sad, for the Admiral to lose his last battle and then his ship as well," Karrde said solemnly to Wedge. They were both seated in Karrde's office, discussing the grim fate of the Star Cruiser, forced to be blasted to pieces by a volley of torpedoes and turbolaser blasts, lest the Imperials find her and extract information from her.
Wedge nodded numbly. "We're just taking hit after hit after hit," he growled, more to himself than the other man. "Sooner or later, some of them are going to question if it's worth it and turn themselves- or us- in."
Karrde sighed heavily. "We have no other choice than to keep fighting," he said. "Now, what progress do we have on the Noghri plan?"
Wedge winced. "Well, Kenji's idea is still the best one, but I'm not quite sure how we're going to get ourselves onto the Chimera for the transmission without being detected and apprehended."
"We'll have to hope for a miracle, won't we?" Karrde said wryly.
Suddenly, an alarm split the air, a shriek of clashing tones and wailing sirens. An alert of that magnitude meant only one thing: massive unknown forces dropping out of lightspeed.
"The Imperials?" Wedge asked incredulously. "There was no homing device! I checked myself!"
"Hold on, Commander," Karrde said, tapping a few keys on his console. "Just wait until I can get more-" Karrde never got a chance to say what more he would get for Wedge. With a fizzle of static and white noise, and image burst into space over the holopad.
It was Garm Bel Iblis. "Resistance forces, do not be alarmed," he said in a strong, clear voice. "This is General Garm Bel Iblis, aboard the In'ca Din'ca flagship Martyr's Glory. I come to bring news of an agreed treaty between the In'ca Din'ca Combine and the resistance forces. I have over 350 battleships at my back, and I think it's time we put an end to Thrawn."