The Last Command (49 page)

“I’m ready to start looking for it,” she said, still keeping the stones in the air. “As I told you before, I only saw the air system equipment from inside the mountain. I never saw the intakes themselves.”

“We’ll find them,” Luke assured her, passing Han and walking over to the droids. “How are you doing, Threepio?”

“Quite well, thank you, Master Luke,” the droid answered primly. “This route is so much better than many of the earlier ones.” Beside him, Artoo trilled something. “Artoo finds it so, as well,” Threepio added.

“Don’t get attached to it,” Mara warned, finally letting the stones drop as she stood up. “There probably won’t be any Myneyrshi trails up the mountain for us to follow. The Empire discouraged native activity anywhere nearby.”

“But don’t worry,” Luke soothed the droids. “The Noghri will help us find a path.”

“Freighter
Garret’s Gold
, you’re cleared for final approach,” the brisk voice of Bilbringi Control came over the
Etherway
‘s bridge speaker. “Docking Platform Twenty-five. Straight-vector as indicated to the buoy; it’ll feed you the course to follow to the platform.”

“Acknowledged, Control,” Aves said, keying in the course that had come up on the nav display. “What about the security fields?”

“Stay on the course you’re given and you won’t run into them,” the controller said. “Deviate more than about fifteen meters any direction and you’ll get a good bump on the nose. From the looks of it, I don’t think your nose can afford any more bumps.”

Aves threw a glare at the speaker. One of these days he was going to get real tired of Imperial sarcasm. “Thank you,” he said, and keyed off.

“Imperials are such fun to work with, aren’t they?” Gillespee commented from the copilot station.

“I like to imagine what his expression is going to be like when we burn out of here with their
CGT
,” Aves said.

“Let’s hope we’re not around to find out for sure,” Gillespee said. “Pretty complicated flight system they’ve got here.”

“It wasn’t like this before that raid of Mazzic’s,” Aves said, gazing ahead through the viewport. Half a dozen shield generators were visible along his approach vector, floating loose around the area and defining the flight path the buoy would supposedly give him. “Probably supposed to keep anyone else from flying around the shipyards any old way they want to.”

“Yeah,” Gillespee said. “I just hope they’ve got all the glitches out of the system.”

“Me, too,” Aves agreed. “I don’t want them to know how much of a bump this ship can really take.”

He glanced down at his board, confirming his vector and then checking the time. The New Republic fleet ought to be hitting Tangrene in a little over three hours. Just enough time for the
Etherway
to dock, unload the specially tweaked tractor beam burst capacitors they were courteously donating to the Empire’s war effort, and get into backup position for Mazzic’s attempt to grab the
CGT
from the main command center eight docking platforms away.

“There goes Ellor,” Gillespee commented, nodding off to starboard.

Aves looked. It was the
Kai Mir
, all right, with the
Klivering
running in flanking position beside it. Beyond it, he could see the
Starry Ice
drifting in toward a docking platform near the perimeter. Near as he could tell, everything seemed to be falling into place.

Though with someone like Thrawn in charge, appearances didn’t mean much. For all he knew, the Grand Admiral might already know all about this raid, and was just waiting for everybody to sneak in under the net before wrapping it around them.

“You ever hear anything else from Karrde?” Gillespee asked, a little too casually.

“He’s not deserting us, Gillespee,” Aves growled. “If he says he has something more important to do, then he has something more important to do. Period.”

“I know,” Gillespee said, his voice noncommittal. “Just thought some of the others might have asked.”

Aves grimaced. Here they went again. He’d have thought that opening up Ferrier’s treachery at Hijarna would have settled this whole thing once and for all. He should have known better. “I’m here,” he reminded Gillespee. “So are the
Starry Ice
, the
Dawn Beat
, the
Lastri’s Ort
, the
Amanda Fallow
, the—”

“Yeah, right, I get the point,” Gillespee interrupted. “Don’t get huffy at me—my ships are here, too.”

“Sorry,” Aves said. “I’m just getting tired of everybody always being so suspicious of everybody else.”

Gillespee shrugged. “We’re smugglers. We’ve had a lot of practice at it. Personally, I’m surprised the group’s held together this long. What do you think he’s doing?”

“Who, Karrde?” Aves shook his head. “No idea. But it’ll be something important.”

“Sure.” Gillespee pointed ahead. “That the marker buoy?”

“Looks like it,” Aves agreed. “Get ready to copy the course data. Ready or not, here we go.”

The orders came up on Wedge’s comm screen, and he gave them a quick check as he keyed for the squadron’s private frequency. “Rogue Squadron, this is Rogue Leader,” he said. “Orders: we’re going in with the first wave, flanking Admiral Ackbar’s Command Cruiser. Hold position here until we’re cleared for positioning. All ships acknowledge.”

The acknowledgments came in, crisp and firm, and Wedge smiled tightly to himself. There’d been some worry among Ackbar’s staff, he knew, that the long flight here to the rendezvous point might take the edge off those units that had first had to carry out decoy duty near the supposed Tangrene jump-off point. Wedge didn’t know about the others, but it was clear that Rogue Squadron was primed and ready for battle.

“You suppose Thrawn got our message, Rogue Leader?” Janson’s voice came into Wedge’s thoughts.

Their message…? Oh, right—that little conversation outside the Mumbri Storve cantina with Talon Karrde’s friend Aves. The one Hobbie had been firmly convinced would be going straight to Imperial Intelligence. “I don’t know, Rogue Five,” Wedge told him. “Actually, I sort of hope it didn’t.”

“Kind of a waste of time if it didn’t.”

“Not necessarily,” Wedge pointed out. “Remember, he said they had some other scheme on line that they wanted to coordinate with ours. Anything that hits or distracts the Empire can’t help but do us some good.”

“They’ve probably just got some smuggling drop planned,” Rogue Six sniffed. “Hoping to run it through while the Imperials are looking the other way.”

Wedge didn’t reply. Luke Skywalker seemed to think Karrde was quietly on the New Republic’s side, and that was good enough for him. But there wasn’t any way he was going to convince the rest of his squadron of that. Someday, maybe, Karrde would be willing to take a more open stand against the Empire. Until then, at least in Wedge’s opinion, everyone who wasn’t on the Grand Admiral’s side was helping the New Republic, whether they admitted it or not.

Sometimes, even, whether they knew it or not.

His comm display changed: the vanguard cone of Star Cruisers had made it into their launch formation. Time for their escort ships to do the same. “Okay, Rogue Squadron,” he told the others. “We’ve got the light. Let’s get to our places.”

Easing power to his X-wing’s drive, he headed off toward the running lights ahead. Two and a half hours, if the rest of the fleet assembly stayed on schedule, and they’d be dropping out of lightspeed within spitting distance of the Bilbringi shipyards.

A shame, he thought, that they wouldn’t be able to see the looks on the Imperials’ faces.

The latest group of reports from the Tangrene region scrolled across the display. Pellaeon skimmed through them, scowling blackly to himself. No mistake—the Rebels were still there. Still slipping forces into the region; still doing nothing to draw attention to themselves. And in two hours, if Intelligence’s projections were even halfway accurate, they would be launching an attack on an effectively undefended system.

“They’re doing quite well, aren’t they, Captain?” Thrawn commented from beside him. “A very convincing performance all around.”

“Sir,” Pellaeon said, fighting to keep his voice properly deferential. “I respectfully suggest that the Rebel activity is not any kind of performance. The preponderance of evidence points to Tangrene as their probable target. Several key starfighter units and capital ships have clearly been assembled at likely jump-off points—”

“Wrong, Captain,” Thrawn cut him off coolly. “That’s what they want us to believe, but it’s nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion. The ships you refer to pulled out of those sectors between forty and seventy hours ago, leaving behind a few men with the proper uniforms and insignia to confuse our spies. The bulk of the force is even now on its way to Bilbringi.”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said with a silent sigh of defeat. So that was it. Once again, Thrawn had chosen to ignore his arguments—as well as all the evidence—in favor of nebulous hunches and intuitions.

And if he was wrong, it wouldn’t be simply the Tangrene Ubiqtorate base that would be lost. An error of that magnitude would shake the confidence and momentum of the entire Imperial war machine.

“All war is risk, Captain,” Thrawn said quietly. “But this is not as large a risk as you seem to think. If I’m wrong, we lose one Ubiqtorate base—important, certainly, but hardly critical.” He cocked a blue-black eyebrow. “But if I’m right, we stand a good chance of destroying two entire Rebel sector fleets. Consider the impact that will have on the current balance of power.”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said dutifully.

He could feel Thrawn’s eyes on him. “You don’t have to believe,” the Grand Admiral told him. “But be prepared to be proved wrong.”

“I very much hope so, sir,” Pellaeon said.

“Good. Is my flagship ready, Captain?”

Pellaeon felt his back stiffen a bit in old parade-ground reflex. “The
Chimaera
is fully at your command, Admiral.”

“Then prepare the fleet for hyperspace.” The glowing eyes glittered. “And for battle.”

There were no real paths up Mount Tantiss; but as Luke had predicted, the Noghri had a knack for terrain. They made remarkably good time, even with the droids slowing them down, and as the sun was disappearing below the trees, they reached the air intakes.

It was not, however, exactly the way Luke had envisioned it.

“Looks more like a retractable turbolaser turret than an air system,” he commented to Han as they moved cautiously through the trees toward the heavy metal mesh and the even heavier metal structure the mesh was set into.

“Reminds me of the bunker we had to break into on Endor,” Han muttered back. “Except with a screen door. Easy—they might have intruder detectors.”

Anywhere else, Luke would have reached out into the tunnel with the Force. Here, within the ysalamiri effect surrounding him, it was like being blind.

Like being on Myrkr again.

He looked at Mara, wondering if she was having similar thoughts and memories. Perhaps so. Even in the fading light, he could see the tension in her face, an anxiety and fear that hadn’t been there before they entered the ysalamiri bubble. “So what now?” she growled, flashing a brief glare at him before looking away again. “We just sit around until morning?”

Han had his macrobinoculars trained on the intake. “Looks like a computer outlet there on the wall under the overhang,” he said. “The rest of you stay put—I’ll take Artoo over and try plugging him in.”

Beside Han, Chewbacca rumbled a warning. “Where?” Han muttered, drawing his blaster.

The Wookiee pointed with one hand as he unlimbered his bowcaster with the other.

The whole group froze, weapons ready… and it was then that Luke first heard the faint sounds of distant blaster fire. From several kilometers away, he thought, possibly somewhere down the mountain. But without his Jedi enhancement techniques, there was no way to know for sure.

From much closer came a birdlike warbling. “A group of Myneyrshi approach,” Ekhrikhor said, listening intently to the signaling. “The Noghri have stopped them. They wish to come forward and speak.”

“Tell them to stay there,” Han said, hesitating just a second before holstering his blaster. Pulling the bleached
satna-chakka
clawbird out of a pocket of his jacket, he beckoned to Threepio. “Come on, Goldenrod, let’s go find out what they want.”

Ekhrikhor muttered an order, and one of the Noghri moved silently to Han’s side. Chewbacca stepped to the other side, and with a helplessly protesting Threepio trailing along they all headed off into the trees.

Artoo gurgled uncomfortably, his dome head swiveling back and forth between Luke and the departing Threepio. “He’ll be all right,” Luke assured him. “Han won’t let anything happen to him.”

The squat droid grunted, probably expressing his opinion of the depths of Han’s concern for Threepio. “We may have more problems than Threepio’s health to worry about in a minute,” Lando said grimly. “I thought I heard blaster fire from down the mountain.”

“I did, too,” Mara nodded. “Probably coming from the storehouse entrance.”

Lando looked over his shoulder at the massive air intake. “Let’s see if we can get that vent open. At least it’ll give us another direction to go if we need to jump.”

Luke looked at Mara, but she was avoiding his eyes again. “All right,” he told Lando. “I’ll go first; you bring Artoo.”

Cautiously, he moved through the trees toward the intakes. But if there were any anti-intruder defenses, they didn’t seem to be working anymore. He made it in under the metal overhang without incident, and with the wind of the inrushing air ruffling through his hair he studied the mesh. At this distance he could see that it was more like a heavy grating, with each strand of what had looked like mesh actually a plate extending several centimeters back into the tunnel. A formidable barrier, but nothing his lightsaber couldn’t handle.

There was the sound of a footstep through leaves, and he turned as Lando and Artoo came up. “The outlet’s over there, Artoo,” he told the droid, pointing to the socket in the side wall. “Plug in and see what you can find out.”