Coruscant - The Imperial Palace

Admiral Drayson blinked at the request being made by the four Jedi registered. "You want Inferno to go with you? May I ask why?"

"Honestly?" said Kanan with a wry smile, "We're pretty sure it's a trap and we want to have some very skilled backup; just in case we may happen to be right."

Drayson's eyes widened and then he shook his head. "You Jedi make absolutely zero sense. But I learned to trust you awhile ago. I'll get Commander Versio up here and see what she has to say."

He pulled his comlink and spoke into it while Luke looked at his four companions. Kanan was wearing a set of traditional tan and brown robes while Ferroda still wore old Alliance fatigues, complete with name badge and Grey Squadron designation patch. Ezra was wearing a set of Beskr'gam, that is armor made of Mandalorian iron in the style of the clans of Mandalore. It was painted to be camouflaged in the desert, with tans and browns and off-whites, over which he wore a long camouflaged coat. On his belt was a blaster and his lightsaber. "That armor is going to slow you down, Ezra;" said Luke.

"Maybe a little;" said the black-haired Jedi Knight with a cocky smirk. "But they won't be cutting through it, that's for sure."

Kanan chuckled and said, "You've always like your armor and weapons, haven't you?"

"What can I say?" chuckled Ezra.

"So long as it doesn't get in the way of your Ataru;" said Kanan with a shrug.

Just then, a woman in an officer's uniform with black hair in a perfect military bun strode through the door. With a broad grin, she hurried over and said, "Generals! It's great to see you again! Admiral Drayson says you have a mission to run and want some extra talent."

Luke gave her a quick hug and said, "That's right, Iden. We're headed to Raxus Prime to spring a trap set by Darth Diabolis or at least a couple of his Dark Jedi. Interested in joining?"

Iden shrugged and said, "Eh... sure. Inferno has nothing better to do. Will we be taking the Corvus or one of your ships?"

"We'll be taking Hera Syndulla's ship, the Ghost. I've a feeling we'll need its detachable fighter/shuttle when we get to Raxus Primes."

"Sounds good;" said Iden Versio. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as Hera has the ship ready. I'd have your crew gear up. Where that special junk-patterned camouflage fatigues;" said Ezra.

Iden hugged him with a chuckle and said, "I've missed your sense of humor, kid. I'm liking that armor too."

She turned back to them and said, "I'll get in contact with the others and we'll meet you over at the Castle. Do you think we'll need special equipment?"

They all looked around before Luke said, "I'll talk to Galen before we depart and ask him. He'd know better than I would. If there is anything, I'll let you know as soon as I hear."

"We'll check on Hera;" said Kanan, grabbing Ezra by the shoulder and ushering him towards the exit.

Ferroda said, "I'll go with Iden. It'll be good to see the rest of Inferno again."

Luke nodded distractedly as he grabbed his comlink and put in Galen Marek's frequency. It was only a moment before the Jedi Master picked up. "What's up, Luke?"

"Inferno Squad wants to know about extra equipment for Raxus Prime. Any advice?"

There was a long pause before he said, "Not really. Artificial gravity generators have been put in by the New Republic, as have those massive atmospheric scrubbers and air purifiers. It should be a great deal cleaner than when I was there because of that."

Luke nodded. "Right. Thanks, Galen."

"Be careful, Luke. May the force be with you."

Luke smiled, "And with you, Starkiller."

The master chuckled before cutting the comms.

Aboard the Lady Luck

When they dropped out of hyperspace, Lando woke Han with the intercom. Neither of them knew where they were. As he went to the bridge of the ship, Han asked, "Where's Irenez?"

"She's gone to the aft control station," Lando told him. "I got the impression she wanted to be able to send down some recognition codes without us looking over her shoulder."

Han snorted. "Any idea where we are?"

"Not really," Lando said, "Transit time was forty-seven hours but that doesn't tell us a whole lot."

Han nodded, contemplating their situation. "A Dreadnought can pull, what, about Point Four?"

"About that, when it's really in a hurry, anyway."

"Mean's we aren't more than a hundred fifty light-years from New Cov, then;" considered Han.

Lando lifted a finger. "I'd guess we're closer than that, myself. It doesn't make sense to use New Cov as a contact point if they were that far away."

"Unless New Cov was the Bothan's idea and not theirs."

"Possible;" Lando conceded. "I still think were closer than a hundred and fifty light-years, though. They could have taken their time getting here just to mislead us."

"Or to have time to organize a reception committee;" said Han, glancing up at the Dreadnought above them.

"There's that too;" said Lando with a nod. "I don't know if I mention it, but after they apologized for getting the magnetic coupling off-center over our hatch, I went back and took a look."

"You didn't mention it;" growled Han, "but I did the same think. Looked kinda deliberate, didn't it?"

"That's what I thought too;" nodded Lando. "Like maybe they wanted an excuse to keep us cooped up down here and not wandering around their ship."

They both glowered in agitation, wondering on the many innocent or less-than-innocent reasons for their 'hosts' to keep them locked away in the Lady Luck.

The comms crackled. "Lady Luck, this is Sena," a familiar voice said. "We've arrived."

"Yes, we noticed;" Lando said, still a little sourly, "I expect you'll want us to follow you down."

"Right;" she said, "The Peregrine will drop the magnetic coupling whenever you're ready to fly."

Han visibly stiffened at the name Peregrine. It took Lando several tried to shake him out of his stupor. "You still with me?"

Han blinked and shook himself slightly. "Yeah. Sure. It's just - that name, Peregrine, rang an old bell. It's from an old Corellian legend they used to tell the kids. Some old ghost guy had been cursed to wander around the world forever, never to find him home again. It always gave me the creeps."

Just then, there was a clang and the ship jolted, announcing their separation from the Dreadnought. Lando took the controls and eased them away. "Well, try to remember it was just a legend."

"I know that;" said Han rather quickly.

They followed Sena's freighter downward, skimming low over the surface of the planet until they came over a wall of craggy cliffs. Just on the other side, they came upon a well hidden, well laid out and well fortified base. Living quarters, admin structures, supply sheds, maintenance buildings, tool buildings and a massive, camouflage-covered refurbishing hanger. All around were strategically placed anti-infantry batteries and anti-armor batteries as well. Last but not least, in perfect defensive positions, KAAC Freerunner assault vehicles were parked in emplacement groups.

Seeing all of it, Han and Lando came to the conclusion that they didn't like it, but with three Dreadnoughts in orbit above them, cutting and running for it wasn't an option. Carefully, they landed beside the freighter and disembarked, Irenez close behind them. Sena and her people from the freighter were waiting for them. For the most part, they were dressed in tan uniforms of a vaguely Corellian style while Sena was still in her nondescript civilian garb.

Waving her hand towards the base, Sena said, "Welcome to our base of operation. If you'll come with us, the Commander is waiting to meet you."

Han continued to look around, commenting as he did. "Busy looking place you've got here. You getting ready to start a war or something?"

As they boarded a skiff, Sena replied coolly, "We aren't in the business of stating wars."

Lando frowned and said, "You know, this place looks a lot like one of the old Alliance basses we used to work out of, only built on the surface instead of dug in underground."

Sena only reply was a noncommittal, "It's does look that way, doesn't it?"

"You've had dealings with the Alliance, then?" Lando pressed gently.

He didn't get an answer and Han and Lando shrugged at one another. Clearly they weren't going to be able to weasel any info out of them.

The skiff came to a halt beside an admin-type building indistinguishable from the other, with the only exception being that their were two armed and uniformed guards outside the doorway. They both saluted Sena smartly as she approached and one of them hit the door activator. "The commander asked to see you for a moment alone, Captain Solo," she said, "We'll wait out here with General Calrissian."

Han nodded and entered, surprised to find himself in a fully equipped war room rather than the comfy executive offices he was expecting. There were comm and tracking consoles and at least one crystal grav-field tracking receptor and the controls for a v-150 Planet Defender ion cannon as well - one like the Alliance had back on Hoth or the Imperial city on Coruscant had used. A star map showed one sector or another with vector lines and varying markers among the glittering white stars. Standing beside that holo was a man - a familiar man.

Even with his face discolored by the lights from the holo and the diplays, and even though Han had only ever seen holos and flat stills of it, he recognized immediately. "Senator Bel Iblis!"

"Welcome to Peregrine's Nest, Captain Solo," said the other, turning from the holo and proffering his hand. "I'm flattered you still remember me."

"It'd be hard for any Corellian to forget you, sir;" said Han, shaking it firmly. "But you-"

"Were dead?" said the Bel Iblis with a sardonic half smile.

"Well, yes; I mean, everyone thought you died on Anchoron."

A shadow seemed to fall over Garm Bel Iblis's face. "In a very real sense, I did. The Emperor wasn't quite able to kill me at Anchoron, but he might just as well have done so. He took everything I had except my life: my family, my profession, even all future contact with mainstream Corellian society. He forced me outside the law I worked so hard to create and maintain."

That sardonic grin returned. "He force me to become a rebel. I imagine you understand the feeling."

"Pretty well, yea," said Han with his own lopsided grin. "I still can't believe this. I wish we'd known sooner - we could really have used this army of yours during the war."

For just a second, the shadow seemed to cross Bel Iblis's face again. "We probably wouldn't have done much to help. It's taken a good deal of time to build up to what you see here."

And just like that, his smile returned. "Nut there'll be time to talk about that later. Right now, I see you standing there trying to figure out exactly when it was we met."

Han had forgotten all about that. "To tell you the truth, I haven't got a clue. Unless it was after Anchoron and you were in disguise or something."

"No disguise; but it wasn't something I'd really expect you to remember. I'll give you a hint: you were all of eleven at the time."

Han blinked, his brow furrowed. "Eleven? You mean in school?"

"Correct - Literally correct, in fact. It was at a convocation at your school, where you were being force to listen to a groups of us old fossils talk about politics."

Han could feel himself blushing slightly. That summed up how he had felt about politics - or in some cases, still felt about politics. "I'm sorry, I still don't remember."

"I do;" chuckled Bel Iblis. "You asked me two very pointed questions - questions I wouldn't expect from an eleven year old: the first regarding the ethics of anti-alien bias starting to creep into the legal structure of the Republic and the second about some very specific instances of corruption involving my colleagues in the senate."

Slowly, the memory began to come back to Han and he blushed even more deeply. "I think one of my friends dared me to throw those questions at you. He probably figured I'd get in trouble for not being polite. I was in trouble enough that it didn't bother me."

"Setting your life pattern early, were you?" asked Bel Iblis dryly, "At any rate, your questions intrigued me enough to ask about you. I've been keeping a somewhat loose eye on you ever since."

Han nodded slowly and looked around. "So how long have you been here at- you called it Peregrine's Nest?"

"Oh we never stay anywhere very long;" replied the Senator.

He took Han by the shoulder and gently but firmly ushered him toward the door. "But right now, I'll bet you friend outside is probably getting nervous. Come introduce me to him."

Bel Iblis was right. Lando did indeed look tense as Han and Bel Iblis stepped into the sunlight again. "It's alright;" Han reassured him. "We're with friends. Senator, this is Lando Calrission - former general in the Rebel Alliance and the New Republic. Lando, this is Senator Garm Bel Iblis."

"Senator Bel Iblis;" said Lando, clearly not recognizing the name.

"Honored to meet you, General Calrissian," said Garm. "I've heard a great deal about you."

"Just Calrissian;" said Lando, shooting Han a glance. "The general is more a courtesy title now."

"Then we're even;" said Bel Iblis with a smile. "I'm not a senator anymore either."

Motioning to Sena, he said, "You've already me my chief adviser and unofficial ambassador-at-large Sena Leikvold Midnayl. And-" he paused with a frown, looking around. "I understood Irenez was with you."

"She was needed back at the ship, sir;" answered Irenez; "Our other quest required some soothing."

"Yes; Council-Aide Breil'lya. This could prove somewhat awkward;" said Bel Iblis with a sigh.

"Yes sir," replied Sena, "Perhaps I shouldn't have brought him here, but at the time I didn't see any other reasonable course of action."

"Oh I agree;" said Bel Iblis, "Leaving him in the middle of an Imperial raid would have been more than simply awkward."

Han remember then what had taken them to New Cov in the first place. As carefully as possible, he said, "You see to be on good terms with Beil'lya, Senator."

Bel Iblis eyed him knowingly. "And you'd like to know what those good terms entail?"

"As a matter of fact, sir... yes, I would."

The other smiled slightly. "You still have that underlying refusal to flinch before authority, don't you? Good. Com on over the the headquarters lounge and and I'll tell you everything you want to know;" suddenly, Bel Iblis's smile took on an edge to it. "And after that, I'll have some questions of my own."

Aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera

With a hiss, the door slid open and Pellaeon stepped into the darkened antechamber of the of Thrawn's private meditation and command room. The room, of course, appeared empty but the Imperial Captain knew better than that. "I have important information for the Grand Admiral;" he announced loudly. "I don't have time for these little games of yours."

"They are not games," Rukh's gravelly voice mewed right in Pellaeon's ears, causing him to jump despite his attempts not to. "Stalking skills must be practiced or lost."

Pellaoen, irritated that the little creature had gotten to him, growled, "Practice on someone else. I have work to do."

He entered the main command room and paused. It was dark in there, lit only by many tiny lights, almost like candles. Upon a closer look, he realized that they were tiny, in fact, holograms of intricate lighted sculptures. "Beautiful, aren't they?" murmured Thrawn. "They're Corellian flame miniatures, one of that very short list of art forms which other have tried to copy but never truly been able to duplicate. Nothing more than shaped transoptical fibers, psuedoluminescent plant materials, and a pair of Goorlish light sources, really; and yet, somehow, there's something about them that's never been captured by anyone else."

The holographic flames faded away, and in the center of the room a frozen image of three Dreadnought cruisers appeared. "This was taken by the Relentless two days ago off the planet New Cov, Captain," Thrawn continued in the same contemplative tone. "Watch them closely."

As they watched, Pellaeon was barely able to make out what might have been a small pleasure yacht through the storm of ion cannon fire. When the Dreadnoughts had withdrawn and the recording had ended, Thrawn glanced at him. "Comments?"

"Looks like our old friends are back;" stated the Captain. "A nuisance, especially right now."

"Unfortunately, indications are that they're about to become more than just a nuisance;" said Thrawn, his voice still reflective. "One of the two ships they were rescuing was identified by the Relentless as the Lady Luck. With Han Solo and Lando Calrissian aboard."

Pellaeon frowned. "Solo and Calrissian? But they were supposed to go to the Palanhi system."

"Yes;" said the grand Admiral. "An error on my part. Obviously, something more important came up than their concerns for Ackbar's reputation."

Pellaeon looked at the hologram of the firing Dreadnoughts again. "Such as adding new strength to the Rebellion's military."

"I don't think they've merged quite yet," Thrawn said, his forehead furrowed with thought. "Nor do I believe such an alliance is inevitable. That was a Corellian leading the force, Captain - I'm sure of that now. And there are only a few possibilities as to just who that Corellian might be."

In Pellaeon's mind, a stray memory clicked. "Solo's if Corellian, isn't he?"

"Yes; one reason I think they're still in the negotiation stage. If their leader is who I suspect, he might well prefer sounding out a fellow Corellian before making any commitment to the Rebellion's leaders."

Just then, Thrawn's comlink pinged. "Admiral Thrawn, we have the contact you requested with the Relentless."

"Thank you," Thrawn said, tapping the switch that connected him. In front of the double circle of repeater displays, a three-quarter-sized hologram of an elderly Imperial officer appeared, standing next to what appeared to be a detention block control board. "Grand Admiral Thrawn;" the image said, nodding gravely.

"Good day, Captain Dorja. You have the prisoner I asked for?"

"Right here, Sir;" Dorja said.

He glanced to the side and gestured. Into view came a rather bulky human, his hands shackled in front of him, his expression studiously neutral behind his neatly trimmed Beared. "His name's Niles Ferrier," said Dorja, "We pick him and his crew up during the raid on New Cov."

"The raid from which Skywalker and Calrissian escaped," Thrawn said.

The Grand Admiral shifted his attention to Ferrier. "Captain Ferrier, our record indicate that you specialize in spaceship theft. Yet you were picked up on New Cov with a cargo of biomolecules aboard you ship. Would you care to explain?"

Ferrier shrugged minuscule. "Palming ships isn't something you can do every day," he said. "It takes opportunities and planning. Taking the occasional shipping job helps make ends meet."

"You're aware, of course, that the biomolecules were undeclared."

"Yes, Captain Dorja told me that," Ferrier replied with just the right mixture of astonishment and indignation. "Believe me, if I'd know I was being made a party to such cheating against the Empire-"

"I presume you're also away;" Thrawn cut him off coolly, "that for such actions I can not only confiscate your cago, but also your ship."

Ferrier was aware of that, all right. Pellaeon could see it in the pinched look around his eyes. "I've been very helpful to the Empire in the past, Admiral;" he said evenly. "I've smuggle in loads of contraband from the New Republic, and only recently delivered three Sienar patrol ships to your people."

"If you're trying to suggest we owe you for past kindnesses, don't bother. However... there may be a way for you to pay back this new debt. did you happen to notice the ships attacking the Relentless as you were trying to sneak away from the planet?"

"Of course I did," Ferrier said, a touch of wounded professional pride creeping into his voice. "They were Rendili StarDrive Dreadnaughts. Old ones, by the look of them, but spry enough. Probably undergone a lot of refitting."

"They have indeed." Thrawn smiled ever so slightly. "I want them."

It took Ferrier a handful of seconds for the offhanded sounding comment to register. When it did, his mouth dropped open. "You mean... me?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Thrawn asked Coldly.

"Uh... Admiral, with all due respect-"

"You have three standard months to get me either those ships or else their precise lcation," said Thrawn, cutting him off. "Captain Dorja;"

Dorja stepped forward again. "Sir."

"You will release Captain Ferrier and his crew and supply them with an unmarked Intelligence freighter to use. Their own ship will remain aboard the Relentless until they've completed their mission."

"Understood;" said Dorja.

Thrawn cocked a blue-black eyebrow. "One more thing, Captain Ferrier. On the off chance that you might feel yourself tempted to abandon the assignment and make a run for it, the freighter you'll be given with be equipped with an impressive and totally unbreakable doomsday mechanism. With exactly three standard months set on its clock. I trust you understand."

Above his beard, Ferrier's face was pale and through stiff lips, he managed to answer, "Yes;"

"Good;" said Thrawn before looking back at Dorja. "I leave the details in your hand, Captain. Keep me informed of any developments."

He tapped a switch and the hologram faded away. "As I said, Captain," Thrawn said, turning to Pellaeon. "I don't think an alliance with the Rebellion is necessarily inevitable."

"If Ferrier can pull it off," Pellaeon said doubtfully.

"He has a reasonable chance;" Thrawn assured him. "After all, we have a general idea ourselves of where they might be hidden. We just don't have the time and manpower at the moment to properly root them out. Even if we did, a large-scale attack would probably end up destroying the Dreadnaughts, and I'd rather capture them intact."

"Yes, sir," Pellaeon said grimly. The word capture had reminded him of why he'd come here in the first place. "Admiral, the report on Khabarakh's ship has come in from the scanning team."

He held the data card over the double display circle. For a moment, Thrawn's glowing eyes burned into Pellaeon's face, as if trying to read the reason for his subordinate's obvious tension. Then, wordlessly, he took the data card from the captain's hand and slid it into his read. Pelaeon waited, tight-lipped, as the Grand Admiral skimmed the report.

Thrawn reached the end and leaned back in his seat, his facial expression unreadable. "Wookiee hairs;" he said.

"Yes, sir;" Pellaeon nodded. "All over the ship."

Thrawn was silent for another few heartbeats. "Your interpretation?"

Pellaeon braced himself. "I can only see one, sir. Khabarakh didn't escape from the Wookiees on Kashyyyk at all. They caught him... and then let him go."

"After a month of imprisonments - and interrogation."

"Almost certainly;" agreed Pellaeon. "The question is, what did he tell them?"

"There's one way to find out." Thrawn tapped on the comm. "Hangar bay, this is the Grand Admiral. Prepare my shuttle; I'm going to the surface. I'll want a troop shuttle and double squad of stormtroopers ready to accompany me, plus two flights of Scimitar assault bombers to provide air cover."

He got an acknowledgement and keyed off. "It may be, Captain, that the Noghri have forgotten where their loyalties lie," he told Pellaeon, standing up and stepping around the displays. "I think it's time they were reminded that the Empire commands here. You'll return to the bridge and prepare a suitable demonstration."

"Yes, sir;" Pellaeon hesitated. "Do you want merely a reminder and not actual destruction?"

Thrawn's eyes blazed. "For the moment, yes," he said, his voice icy. "Let them all pray I don't change my mind."