Corucant - The Headquarters of the Jedi Order

Mara stared out the window into the coming evening. She should probably be eating something or resting but at the moment, her mind was racing. She had just received a contact from Peregrine's Nest. Somehow Han and Lando had shown up there and had left after being caught snooping around and figuring out about former-Imperial Senator Bel-Iblis's dreadnoughts. The communication also mentioned that the Senator had revealed that she was one of his sources. Now she knew that there were no safer people than Han and Lando but even so, she was not looking forward to the grilling she was undoubtedly going to get. There would be questions about when and how long she had known the senator and why she hadn't told high command and Luke - Mara stifled a groan at the thought of her husband.

Luke would be hurt, of course. They shared everything, the whole contents of their minds together. However, she had learned very early in their relationship how to hide things from him and not let on that she was. That little space of her mind wasn't exactly full. In fact this one secret was the only contents but even so, it was going to hurt him and she hated that. Just the thought caused Mara's throat to tighten and her eyes to sting. Instantly, his presence was there, caressing her mind and making sure that she was okay.

Mara smiled and touched him back, clearing her mind of the turmoil and turning away from the window. She needed to eat and then a nap probably wouldn't be a terrible idea. After that, she would think about how best to discuss it with Han, Luke, Lando and whoever else they thought would need to know about this.

"Damn pregnancy hormones;" she growled as her eyes and throat finally began to relax. "I was never this emotional about anything like this before Luke knocked me up, the nerf brain!"

Hyperspace - Aboard the Lady Luck

The Harrier carried them from Peregrine's Nest, wherever it was housed, to New Cov. The trip was a lonely and rather boring one. As the time crawled by, Lando grumbled, "Here we go again. How do I keep letting talk me into these things?"

"'Cause you're the respectable one;" said Han as he continued working the ship's systems, "and because you know as well as I do that we have to do it. Sooner or later the Empire's going to find out that the Katana Fleet's been found and start looking for it themselves. And if they get to it before we do, we're going to be in big trouble."

Even as he spoke, Han had a distracted tone to his voice, as if his mind was only partially focused at the issue immediately at hand. Lando glanced at his old buddy and asked, "You're worried about Leia, aren't you?"

A lengthy silence followed before he replied, "I shouldn't have let her go. Something's gone wrong. I just know it. That lying little alien's turned her over to the Empire, or the Grand Admiral's out-thought us again. I don't know, but something's wrong."

Lando was sympathetic to his friend. Leia, after all, was a friend of his as well and Han and her were both quite important to him. "Leia's a Jedi, Han. She can take care of herself. Besides, even Grand Admirals make mistakes sometimes."

"He made his mistake at Sluis Van, Lando. He won't make another one. I'd bet you the Falcon he won't."

Realizing how deeply into depression his friend seemed about to go, Lando forced a smile and clapped him on the back. "Come on, buddy. We've got two days to kill. Let's break out a sabacc deck."

Wayland - Mount Tantiss

Darth Diabolis watched as fifty acolytes trained. Some were practicing with lightsabers using shock weapons. They were designed to cause a pain every bit as debilitating as if they were struck with a lightsaber - a painful reward for their failure. Another group was working at hand to hand combat. Though Diabolis had always been marginal at unarmed martial arts himself, he fully understood the value of it and he wanted his warriors to be proficient at the least. In another area of the room, a group of young and eager looking nightsisters were watching in wander as two Dark Jedi Masters educated them on the various force abilities. One used force lightning, sending bolts at the other while the other used an outstretched hand to absorb them. As he watched, the lieutenant in charge of the tech crews working on his next, and hopefully final, attempt on the Skywalkers' lives, marched up and snapped to attention before bowing. Diabolis watched his acolytes for a moment longer before saying conversationally, "It's not going well, is it, Lieutenant?"

"I think it is, my Lord;" the lieutenant said. To his credit, he actually sounded both confident and even upbeat. "We have managed to download every bite of information from each of the droids. It was a huge amount but that's beside the point. We are working on upgrading some of their systems that are too degraded to use. I am confident that it will solve the issues."

Diabolis nodded, stroking his shaven chin. "Will that get rid of their hive-mind?"

"Oh we solved that last night, my Lord. There was a transmitter of some sort that allowed them all to detect and process what the others were doing. Who installed it and for what reason, I have no idea but now, they can act as independent units. I still don't think that they acknowledge you as the heir of Darth Revan."

Diabolis nodded slowly. He figured so. Perhaps if the droids saw something that they were a little more familiar with and could associate with his old master, that would be able to get them to obey him. But that would require a long mission. "Keep working, Lieutenant. Replace any degraded parts with new ones. If you have to build the parts yourself, so be it but try not to replace too much. Keeping the original look at the very least would be preferable."

The lieutenant bowed and was about to depart when Diabolis said, "Lieutenant;" the mercenary officer turned and awaited his lord's pleasure. "How many different units are we dealing with here and are there really any great differences between their programmings?"

The lieutenant cleared his throat and tapped at his data pad. After a moment, he answered, "There are six different variants, it would seem, my lord. Their programming is-" and he paused. Diabolis could almost sense his frown. Stretching out his black-gloved hand, he waited until the datapad was placed into it before looking away from his trainees.

The training was indeed quite different between each of them. The first was an assassin droid model that had apparently started some kind of droid rebellion by removing restraining protocol and transplanting combat protocols. It was shut down and stored away as a progenitor for other droids of its line. Diabolis could only wonder how in space Palpatine had collected it or if he had simply rebuilt it.

The second droid on the list was much less interesting. It was a very well built and well designed assassin droid with a great ability but there were many such. They would probably need some serious upgrading. The third was much more interesting. It was a custom, one of a kind model like the original model. However, its creator had programmed it with more loyalty to temper it's nearly anti-organic attitudes. When Diabolis read who had built this unique, one of a kind model, he laughed out loud. Of course his old master would figure out how to make the original droid over again and somehow make it loyal to him. Darth Revan could even inspire absolute loyalty in meatbag killing assassin droids. The Dark Lord had used it to kill numerous military and political enemies during the Jedi Civil War before the droid had been lost.

While Diabolis was sure that the rest would have been a fascinating read, he moved on to the next model. It had been massed produced by... somebody. The information didn't say, only that it was an old Telos military base and that they were used basically as bounty hunter droids. The generation after them were even more impressive. They could be soldiers, assassins, bodyguards, enforcers - whatever it was that their masters wanted, they could do it.

The last droid in the series was, like it's progenitor, unique. It was a bodyguard droid meant to protect its master and even apparently had a self-sacrifice measure. That would be interesting indeed. Clearly the first, third and final in the line would need to be given some kind of leadership or command programming over the squads of the other two. "Lieutenant, I want you to find out the difference between the 01 and 47 models and have your techs replicate it if possible. I want you to ensure that the 50, 51 and 24 models are programmed and ready to be members of squads under the commands of 01, 47 and 55. Once the programming and hardware rebuild is finished, leave them be. It is clear that, barring a full memory wipe, there is only one way to get them to obey my commands."

The officer nodded as the Dark Lord turned away from the training acolytes and began making his way to his private hanger. "A mind wipe would be counter-productive as well. All the experience that these droids have gained would be lost. Lord Revan's ability to give them a learning potential is amazing."

"It's indeed a wonder they didn't turn on him when they realized he was a fallible being with weaknesses like any other;" commented the lieutenant.

Diabolis chuckled. "But he didn't, Lieutenant. He had none whatsoever. Send an order to have a transport prepared. I will be departing shortly."

The lieutenant bowed as he departed. Diabolis made his casual way to the hanger that housed the transport he would take. As he strode towards the ramp, a soft voice asked casually behind him, "Where are we going, my love?"

Diabolis smiled and replied, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you sensed my plans. Come along then, Silri. We are searching for the mask and armor of Darth Revan. It is rumored that several sets of several different kinds were made. We will find one."

Aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera

Thrawn looked up from the report and gazed at Pellaeon. "You vouch for the reliability of this report, Captain?"

"As much as I can vouch for any report that doesn't originate with Imperial agent. On the other hand, this smuggler has fed us fifty-two reports the last ten years, forty-eight of which proved to be accurate. I'd say he's with believing;" replied Captain Pellaeon.

Thrawn nodded slowly and looked back down at his report. "Endor;" he murmured almost to himself, "why Endor?"

"I don't know, sir. Perhaps they were looking for another place to hide;" suggested the Captain.

"Among the Ewoks?" snorted Thrawn, "That would be desperation indeed. But no mater. If the Millennium Falcon is there, then so is Leia Organa Solo. Alert Navigation and Engineering; we leave immediately for Endor."

Captain Pellaeon relayed the orders before asking, "Shall I have Khabarakh brought up from Nystao?"

Thrawn folded his hands thoughtfully. "Yes, Khabarakh. Note the interesting timing here, Captain. Khabarakh comes back to Honogr after a month's absence, just as Solo and Organa Solo head off on secret errands to New Cov and Endor. Coincidence?"

"I don't follow, sir."

Thrawn rubbed his smooth chin a smiled thinly. "What I think, Captain, is that we're seeing a new degree of subtlety among our enemies. They knew the return of a survivor from the failed Kashyyyk operation would catch my attention. They therefore arranged his release to coincide with their own mission, in the hope I would be too preoccupied to notice them. Doubtless when we break Khabarakh, we'll learn a great many things from him that will cost us countless man-hours to finally prove wrong. No, leave him where he is. You may inform the dynasts that I have decided to permit them the full seven days of public shame, after which they may perform the rites of discovery as they choose. No matter how useless his information, Khabrakh may still serve the Empire by dying painfully. As an object lesson to his race."

Captain Pellaeon frowned and hesitantly replied. "Yes, sir. May I point out, though, that such a drastic psychological fragmentation and reconditioning is well outside the Rebellion's usual operating procedures."

"I agree, which implies all the more strongly that whatever Organa Solo is looking for on Endor, it's considerably more vital to the Rebellion's war effort than mere sanctuary."

Abregado-rae - Spaceport

Rianna had never been to Abregado-rae before but it wasn't any worse than many of the other back rocket scum hives that she had been to in her time. In fact, she wouldn't mind returning for leisure - if she ever had the opportunity. On the surface, the place looked neat and clean in a way that could only be maintained by government decree. It had lots of spiffy looking security officers patrolling the streets in spotless uniforms to prove it. But Rianna knew better. She could recognize the rot beneath the glitter and glitz. The locals looked around furtively while the uniformed security officers swaggered half-heartedly and the plain-clothes officers stood out like sore thumbs among the populace. All this revealed that the spaceport, if not whole whole planet, was being held together with space tape and power packs.

Waving cheerily at three tough looking men who were as conspicuous as a stormtrooper at an Ewok family reunion, the Twi'lek smuggler entered through the faded doors with a faded sign that read "Landing Pit 21" and beheld her goal. It was one of Karrde's freighters, the Etherway. Solo had made good on his word and gotten it released from impound. There, at the bottom of the lowered ramp sat a familiar face which Rianna hadn't seen since her days in the Rebellion. "Hello there;" he said with a broad grin. "Nice day for flying. You interested in hiring a ship?"

"Nah, I'm looking into buying, actually. What kind do you have here?

"A genuine Harkners-Balix Nine-Oh-Three;" he said with a less-than passable attempt at pride.

Rianna wanted to shake her head in disgust. This guy was a terrible actor though he seemed to be enjoying himself. "You sure? Looks more like a nine-seventeen or maybe a nine-twenty-one."

"No, no; it's a nine-oh-three;" insisted the other. "My uncle used to make the landing gear pads for them. Come on inside and I can show you how to show the difference."

"Sounds interesting. Let's go;" she said and followed him up the ramp. They were barely inside before Wedge turned with a broad grin and hugged her. "Damn! Never thought I'd see you again, Rianna."

"Easy there, fly-boy;" she said, gently pushing him back. "Don't want to give the game up."

"Don't worry;" he said with a wink. "I got all your MSE droids clattering around on cleaning duty just inside the outer hull."

"Well that should block audio probes. It's good to see you again, Wedge. When you see him again, tell Han I said thanks. Thank you too. I'm guessing you're the one who really did the foot work here."

"As always, not that I mind;" said Wedge Antilles. "Han had to leave Coruscant on one of his impromptu missions. Since I'm scheduled for escort duty a couple systems over, he asked me to take care of it."

Rianna nodded. Some things didn't ever change. "Still flying X-wings?"

"Of course; what else would I fly? Hey, do you want an escort outta here?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Wedge, I would prefer to stay low profile. Is there anything more high profile than a New Republic X-wing with Rogue Squadron markings?"

"Point taken; oh and Han also wanted to ask if you and your boss would be interested in selling information about our friend with the eyes."

Rianna frowned. "Well you can tell him that I'll pass the message on and that I'm working on it from my end as well. It was really good to see you again, Wedge. Take care and be careful out there."

Wedge returned her embrace and murmured, "You, you too, Rianna. Come and see us some time. There's a bunch of us who would love to see you around again."

With one more squeeze, he headed down the ramp. Rianna sealed the hatch and went up to the bridge. Clearance and pre-flight diagnostics took only a quarter of an hour and she was away and heading towards the blue-black of space. Just after she kicked in the sublight engines, she keyed the nav computer, satisfied to recognize that Torv had followed standard procedure, calculating a jump out of the system and saving it. She had just punched in to calculate any minor adjustments when the comms unit pinged. Rianna looked at it with a frown and elected to ignore it - until she saw the bulk of a Victory-class star destroyer approaching from directly ahead.

Numerous options flashed through her head but Rianna knew she was well and truly caught this time. With a sigh, she activated the comms. "Etherway, this is the Star Destroyer Adamant; you are ordered to shut day your engines and prepare to be brought aboard."

"Complying, Adamant;" she said before gunning the engines, hoping that surprise would be just enough to get her past the Star Destroyer. It didn't work. A tractor beam had her within moments. She attempted all the tricks she knew but the game was up and she was caught.

"Are you quite finished, Etherway?" demanded the smug Imperial officer.

Rianna didn't bother answering. Instead, she shut her systems down and waited.

Minutes later, she was cuffed and brought before the captain. "You are fortunate, Twi'lek;" he said with distaste. "Grand Admiral Thrawn commanded that any of Karrde's associates that are caught leaving this system are to be transferred directly to his flagship. That means you will live for a while longer."

"Lucky me;" muttered Rianna mirthlessly.

She spent the next twenty-four hours in a cell. Some of it she managed to sleep but most of it she spent trying to devise some plan. The problem was that she didn't know where they were going or when to expect to be able to make any sort of move. Finally, they arrived at a wholly unexpected location - Endor. "Huh - look at that." she mused. "It's like the place never had a Death Star orbiting it or a fleet of Star Destroyers, Cruisers and whatnot."

"Shut up;" growled the Stormtrooper commander.

They hustled her aboard a shuttle and transferred her aboard an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. Minutes after that, she was escorted to what she only assumed was the ship commander's office or a conference room. When a final set of double doors opened, she found herself looking into the red eyes and blue face of Grand Admiral Thrawn. "Rianna Saren;" he said in his modulated voice, "welcome to my meditation chamber. Please, remove the cuffs. I am perfectly safe in here with her. You are dismissed, troopers."

Rianna rubbed her wrists and eyed him before looking around her at the art displays. "You're pretty confident, Admiral, to assume that you're safe with me;" she said, her voice conversational as she looked around for anything to use as a weapon. There was, of course, nothing - only a bunch of holographic art.

"My bodyguard is in here with us;" said the Admiral. "And he will ensure you don't lay a single finger on me. Now, what do you think of these fine specimens?"

They were various kinds of Twi'lek art - sculptures, mosaics, paintings, scrolls in the Twi'lek tongue of Ryl and kalikoris as well. Kalikoris were pieces of art that were assembled over the generations with each new section telling the story of a member of the family. Since the rise of the Empire, the practice of keeping them had lost popularity. "I prefer the real things, myself;" said Rianna. "Haven't seen any in awhile though - not since I escaped Imperial slavery at least."

"Then you and I agree on something;" said Thrawn, "we prefer real art to holographic representations. Alas, I lost my collections when Coruscant was taken. But enough of that. There are many things that we must discuss, you and I."

"Oh and what might that be?" Rianna demanded, spreading her legs and crossing her arms.

"Why, the ending of the death mark on your employer Talon Karrde and his other associates, of course. You are aware that there are many bounty hunters looking for him as we speak, I'm sure."

"Oh I'm sure;" she agreed, casually looking around the room as if still considering the art but trying to locate the bodyguard that Thrawn had referred to. "But I'm no fool, Admiral. We've crossed you, despite our best efforts not to and we've been found out. What could possibly be worth you forgoing your vengeance and allowing us to go?"

"The Empire's needs take priority over vengeance. We need ships as I mentioned to Karrde on Myrkr - capital war ships."

There it was - a small creature in the corner. Rianna was no fool. She realized after years in combat that size didn't necessarily matter in a fight. She herself was evidence of that. "What in your intelligence network or anything else for that matter makes you think that Talon Karrde, as fantastic a smuggler chief and information broker he is, can locate ships like that, Admiral?"

Thrawn gave a wry smile. "His reaction when I brought it up, of course. There was just enough of an irregular reaction that drew my attention. I think that he just might know where to find what I need or at least to point me in the right direction."

Rianna nodded, casually heading towards the holographic depiction of a mosaic of a battle in the Clone Wars. It wasn't far at all from the Grand Admiral and Rianna was confident she could get to him before his bodyguard could get to her. "I would think your next moves through very carefully, Rianna Saren;" Thrawn suddenly said, his voice icy and dangerous. "If I kill you here, I am simply where I was before you were caught. You are the only one with something to lose."

He had caught her and guessed her intentions. Thrawn was good. With a sigh, a disarming smile and spread arms, she replied, "Can't blame a lady for trying. So how exactly do you expect me to help with this? Karrde really doesn't do the ransom thing."

"I want you to deliver a message for me. If he delivers me the ships he is aware of, I will remove the death mark again and we may even be able to come up with some sort of business arrangement for the future. I am not an unreasonable being, after all."

Rianna chuckled, "Grand Admiral Thrawn, I wasn't born yesterday and I may have been away from the war for awhile but I still remember how much Imperial promises are worth. If I return to Karrde, you'll track me and find him yourself. If we're going to make this work, I'm going to need some assurances."

Again, the Grand Admirals demeanor chilled. "You are in position to demand nothing, Saren. I am offering you a chance to save yourself and your employer as well as improve his business chances. I offer no assurances. However, I am going to let you go, regardless. If I find you or Karrde again and it is with the absence of a pre-set meeting, then things will not be so benevolent as they were here."

With that, he hit a button on the arm of his seat and the stormtroopers returned. "Return her to her ship and see to it that she disembarks."

Minutes later, Thrawn and Captain Pellaeon watched as the freighter made the jump to hyperspace. "Were the tracking beacons placed, Captain?"

"As you ordered, Admiral;" replied Pellaeon, "One on the outer haul which I'm guessing she managed to shut down somehow - a haul electric pulse I'm sure. One beneath the consoles of the cockpit as well."

"I'm sure she found it in short order. What about the other?"

"The one on the scanning array itself should be safe enough. The timer for it to transmit was set for one hour. She will have already made all scans for a homing beacon already. But Admiral, what do you plan to gain from all this? Do you truly think that Karrde has access to capital warships? He is only a smuggler and part-time information broker."

"Perhaps not but I got an impression from him on Myrkr - he knows something and I intent to figure it out."

Thrawn slowly turned to leave. "Attend me, Captain; there is something that I wish to show you."

Back in the Grand Admiral's meditation chamber, Thrawn activated his holo projectors. Another display of art appeared suddenly. "What do you think of these, Captain?"

Pellaeon had not cultivated as serious an interest in art as Darth Diabolis had. Looking at the displays, he patiently commented, "They look rather standard, Admiral - like something any wealthy human would enjoy. Nothing too alien or exotic."

"You aren't too far off, Captain;" said Thrawn. "These pieces graced the offices of the Rendili Star Drives, specifically the Fleet Planning Department from the time that they were planning for a certain specific fleet."

With a couple of more key strokes, the image of a Rendili Dreadnought-Class Heavy Cruiser appeared. It didn't looked much different from the standard ships used in both the Alliance and Imperial Fleets. "I'm not sure I understand, Admiral;" confessed Pellaeon. "The Fleet Planning Department shut down decades ago - after the loss of the Katana Fleet and the Outbound Flight Project."

"Precisely, Captain;" said Thrawn and hit a few more keys. Before them appeared another image. "I believe I showed you this earlier."

Three dreadnoughts providing cover fire for the luxury yacht that belonged to Lando Calrissian - the Lady Luck. "I'm afraid you may have lost me again, Admiral;" said Pellaeon.

"I believe, Captain, that those three Dreadnoughts came from the long lost and highly sought after Katana Fleet;" said Thrawn thoughtfully.

Pellaeon barely contained the incredulity in his voice. "With all due respect, Admiral, that is beyond a long shot. Those could easily just be Rendilli dreadnoughts."

"If you think that our Corellian friend has over sixty thousand crewers at his disposal. Furthermore, the description given in the report states that the insignia and color of the ships suggests that they are Katana dreadnoughts. Besides, if one knows what to look for, they can identify the difference between regular dreadnoughts and slave-rigged dreadnoughts."

Pellaeon could not argue with the last point at any rate. "Very well, Admiral. How are we going to find someone in the fringe who can find us ships like this?"

"I've been making use of Darth Diabolis's fringe contacts, getting in contact with bounty hunters, information brokers, pirates - anything that may know how to help us. I've also put in inquiries about Talon Karrde himself and his personal history. At the moment, I have a few leads. Get in contact with Niles Ferrier. I want him to track Solo and Calrissian."

"Ferrier? That ship thief?"

"Indeed. Have the orders relayed and then set course to follow Rianna Saren. We can't have her getting too far ahead of us."

Pellaeon frowned, "We aren't going to give her time to set up a meeting?"

"Of course not;" said Thrawn. "Rianna Saren is still too close to many in the Rebellion to actually try to get Karrde to work with us. No, we need to ensure that we arrive as closely on her heals as possible to prevent Karrde from slipping out of our reach again."

"Understood, Admiral;" said Pellaeon as he snapped to attention and saluted.

Honghr - Village of Clan Kihm'bar

After hours of staring at maps and floor plans and diagrams of Nystao to plan an attempt of what would result in more than just an elaborate and round about surrender, Leia had to take a break. "I can't look at this anymore. Let's go outside for a while."

Chewie growled in protest but Leia waved it aside. "Of course there are risks, Chewie, but the whole village knows we're here and no one has told the authorities yet. Come on; it'll be okay."

Despite the Wookiee's continued protests, she opened the door and stepped out into the open air. At first, Leia had a feeling of nakedness come over her but, after reminding herself of the Maitrakh's news that the Star Destroyer had departed. They had earned a reprieve, if only a temporary one just as they thought they would be pinned to the ground. Even so, Leia was very suspicious of Thrawn's sudden departure, especially since the way he had been talking the night before, she had expected him to stay for several days, at least until some of Khabarakh's public display of humiliation was finished. When Leia had asked if they had taken Khabarakh with them, the Maitrakh had replied in the negative. He was still there. Of course, Thrawn may have been lying to her in order to set some kind of trap. With a Grand Admiral, especially one like Thrawn, nothing was out of the question and it would likely be obvious only after it had closed in around her.

Stop it! She thought to herself firmly. That direction of thought led to mental paralyses. Even Grand Admirals were fallible. Thrawn himself had made mistakes before during the rebellion era and the conflict on Lothal. For whatever reason, he had left now and maybe, just maybe, that would give her and Chewbacca the opening they needed to escape.

Chewie growled something to her, a suggestion that would cause damage to the city. "We can't do that. It'd be no better than a full-blown attack on the spaceport. We have to keep damage to Nystao and its people to an absolute minimum."

Chewie snorted and asked what else they could do. "I don't know what else to do. All I know is that death and massive destruction won't do anything but put us back where we were before we came here. It certainly won't convince the Noghri that they should leave the Empire and come over to our side."

She looked out over the fields of kholm grass as they waved in the wind. The decon droids were working hard, scooping the dirt, cleansing it and dumping it back onto the ground a cubic meter at a time. "Lady Vader;" came the gravely voice of the Maitrakh from behind her.

Leia smiled. "Good morning, Maitrakh. I trust you are well this morning?"

"I still feel no sickness."

"Good."

It was clear that, even though she would never be so impolite as to say it, the Noghri Maitrakh found herself in a no-win situation. As soon as Thrawn returned, there was every chance that her family would face great dishonor. Because of that, it was only a matter of time before she came to the conclusion that turning Leia over was her best bet.

"Your plans, how do they go?" asked the elderly Noghri.

"We're making progress but we still have a long way to go;" she said.

"Your droid has spent much time with the other machines;" the Maitrakh said after a short pause.

Leia chuckled. "There isn't as much for him to do as I thought there would be. You and your people speak Basic better than I anticipated."

The maitrakh nodded. "The Grand Admiral has taught us well."

"As did my father, the Lord Darth Vader before him;" reminded Leia gently.

"Yes;" said the maitrakh noncommittally. Pointing out to where the droids were working, "That area will be finished soon. If they finish within the next ten days, we will be able to plant there this season."

"Will the extra land be enough to make you self-sufficient?"

The maitrakh shook her head. "It will help but not enough."

A fresh surge of frustration swelled in Leia. It was a scheme as old as slavery itself - tuning the decontamination process so that they could keep independence within sight for the Noghri while never actually allowing them to achieve it. The problem was convincing the Noghri of that. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Chewie, are you familiar at all with decon droids? Enough that you could figure out how long it would take the number of droid they have on Honoghr to decontaminate this much land?"

The Wookiee growled an affirmative and proceeded with a long stream that Leia assumed were a rundown of relevant figures. "I don't need the complete analyses right now;" she interrupted gently. "Have you got a bottom line?"

With a grunt, he confirmed. Eight years total.

Leia sighed. "I see. That would have put it right about the height of the war, wouldn't it?"

The maitrakh lifted a small hand accusingly. "You still believe the Grand Admiral has deceived us?"

"I know he's deceiving you," she retorted. "I just can't prove it."

"What then will you do?"

"We have to leave Honoghr. That means breaking into the spaceport at Nystao and stealing a ship."

"There should be no difficulty in that for a daughter of the Lord Darth Vader;" mewed the maitrakh.

Leia nodded somberly. In truth, she and Chewie could do it and it wouldn't necessarily be difficult. The problem was that doing so without causing more Noghri deaths was the trying part. That, and leaving would do nothing to save them from the Empire. What's more, she would not leave Khabarkh to die. "Stealing a ship won't be too hard. The difficulty arises from the fact that we have to take Khabrakh with us."

The maitrakh stiffened and hissed. "What is that you say?"

"It's the only way;" insisted Leia. "If Khabarakh is left to the Empire, they'll make him tell everything that's occurred here. And when that happens, he and you will both die. Perhaps your whole family with you. We can't allow that."

"Then you face death yourselves. The guards will not easily allow Khabarakh to be freed;" retorted the Noghri.

"I know;" said Leia. "We'll have to take that risk."

Somehow, that only seemed to agitate the Noghri more. She nashed her teeth. "There will be no honor in such a sacrifice. The clan Kihm'bar will not carve it into history. Neither will the Noghri people long remember."

"I'm not doing it for the praise of the Noghri people," Leia sighed. "I'm doing it because I'm tired of people dying for my mistakes. I asked Khabarakh to bring me to Honogr. What's is my responsibility. I can't just run off and leave you to Grand Admiral Thrawn's vengeance."

"Our lord the Grand Admiral would not deal so harshly with us."

Memories of world being destroyed rushed through Leia's mind and she met the maitrakh's eyes. "The Empire once destroyed an entire world because of me. I don't ever want that to happen again."

The maitrakh held her gaze for several long moments. Finally, she murmured, "The humiliation period has been extended for four more days. In two days' time the moons will give their least light. It would be best to wait until them."

"Are you offering me your help?

"There is honor in you, Lady Vader;" the maitrakh replied in a low voice. "For the life and honor of my thirdson, I will go with you. Perhaps we will die together."

Leia felt her throat tighten but managed to say in a firm voice. "We won't die - I can assure you of that."

"Perhaps;" came the reply. "Come; let us return to the house. There are many things about Nystao which you must yet learn."