Thrawn’s eyes glittered, but he merely inclined his head slightly. “I accept your challenge, Master C’baoth.”
“Good.” Deliberately, C’baoth resettled himself into his seat and closed his eyes. “You may leave me now, Grand Admiral Thrawn. I wish to meditate, and to plan for the future of my Jedi.”
For a moment Thrawn stood silently, his glowing red eyes gazing unblinkingly at C’baoth. Then he shifted his gaze to Pellaeon. “You’ll accompany me to the bridge, Captain,” he said. “I want you to oversee the defense arrangements for the Ukio system.”
“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said, glad of any excuse to get away from C’baoth.
For a moment he paused, feeling a frown cross his face as he looked down at C’baoth. Had there been something he had wanted to bring to Thrawn’s attention? He was almost certain there was. Something having to do with C’baoth, and clones, and the MountTantiss project…
But the thought wouldn’t come, and with a mental shrug, he pushed the question aside. It would surely come to him in time.
Stepping around the display ring, he followed his commander from the room.
It was called the Calius saj Leeloo, the City of Glowing Crystal of Berchest, and it had been one of the most spectacular wonders of the galaxy since the earliest days of the OldRepublic. The entire city was nothing more or less than a single gigantic crystal, created over the eons by saltile spray from the dark red-orange waters of the LeefariSea that roiled up against the low bluff upon which it rested. The original city had been painstakingly sculpted from the crystal over decades by local Berchestian artisans, whose descendants continued to guide and nurture its slow growth.
At the height of the Old Republic Calius had been a major tourist attraction, its populace making a comfortable living from the millions of beings who flocked to the stunning beauty of the city and its surroundings. But the chaos of the Clone Wars and the subsequent rise of the Empire had taken a severe toll on such idle amusements, and Calius had been forced to turn to other means for its support.
Fortunately, the tourist trade had left a legacy of well-established trade routes between Berchest and most of the galaxy’s major systems. The obvious solution was for the Berchestians to promote Calius as a trade center; and while the city was hardly to the level yet of Svivren or Ketaris, they had achieved a modest degree of success.
The only problem was that it was a trade center on the Imperial side of the line.
A squad of stormtroopers strode down the crowded street, their white armor taking on a colored tinge from the angular red-orange buildings around them. Taking a long step out of their way, Luke Skywalker pulled his hood a bit closer around his face. He could sense no particular alertness from the squad, but this deep into Imperial space there was no reason to take chances. The stormtroopers strode past without so much as a glance in his direction, and with a quiet sigh of relief Luke returned his attention to his contemplation of the city. Between the stormtroopers, the Imperial fleet crewers on layover between flights, and the smugglers poking around hoping to pick up jobs, the darkly businesslike sense of the city was in strange and pointed contrast to its serene beauty.
And somewhere in all that serene beauty was something far more dangerous than mere Imperial stormtroopers.
A group of clones.
Or so New Republic Intelligence thought. Painstakingly sifting through thousands of intercepted Imperial communiques, they’d tentatively pinpointed Calius and the Berchest system as one of the transfer points in the new flood of human duplicates beginning to man the ships and troop carriers of Grand Admiral Thrawn’s war machine.
That flood had to be stopped, and quickly. Which meant finding the location of the cloning tanks and destroying them. Which first meant backtracking the traffic pattern from a known transfer point. Which first meant confirming that clones were indeed coming through Calius.
A group of men dressed in the dulbands and robes of Svivreni traders came around a corner two blocks ahead, and as he had so many times in the past two days, Luke reached out toward them with the Force. One quick check was all it took: the traders did not have the strange aura he’d detected in the boarding party of clones that had attacked them aboard the
Katana
.
But even as he withdrew his consciousness, something else caught Luke’s attention. Something he had almost missed amid the torrent of human and alien thoughts and sensations that swirled together around him like bits of colored glass in a sandstorm. A coolly calculating mind, one which Luke felt certain he’d encountered before but couldn’t quite identify through the haze of mental noise between them.
And the owner of that mind was, in turn, fully aware of Luke’s presence in Calius. And was watching him.
Luke grimaced. Alone in enemy territory, with his transport two kilometers away at the Calius landing field and his only weapon a lightsaber that would identify him the minute he drew it from his tunic, he was not exactly holding the high ground here.
But he had the Force… and he knew his follower was there. All in all, it gave him fair odds.
A couple of meters to his left was the entrance to the long arched tunnel of a pedestrian bridgeway. Turning down it, Luke stepped up his pace, trying to remember from his study of the city maps exactly where this particular bridge went. Across the city’s icy river, he decided, and up toward the taller and higher-class regions overlooking the sea itself. Behind him, he sensed his pursuer follow him into the bridgeway; and as Luke put distance between himself and the mental din of the crowded market regions behind him, he was finally able to identify the man.
It was not as bad as he’d feared. But potentially at least, it was bad enough. With a sigh, Luke stopped and waited. The bridgeway, with its gentle curve hiding both ends from view, was as good a place as any for a confrontation.
His pursuer came to the last part of the curve. Then, as if anticipating that his quarry would be waiting there, he stopped just out of sight. Luke extended his senses, caught the sound of a blaster being drawn— “It’s all right,” he called softly. “We’re alone. Come on out.”
There was a brief hesitation, and Luke caught the momentary flicker of surprise; and then, Talon Karrde stepped into sight.
“I see the universe hasn’t run out of ways to surprise me,” the smuggler commented, inclining his head to Luke in an abbreviated bow as he slid his blaster back into its holster. “From the way you were acting I thought you were probably a spy from the NewRepublic. But I have to admit you’re the last person I would have expected them to send.”
Luke eyed him, trying hard to read the sense of the man. The last time he’d seen Karrde, just after the battle for the
Katana
, the other had emphasized that he and his smuggling group intended to remain neutral in this war. “And what were you going to do after you knew for sure?”
“I hadn’t planned on turning you in, if that’s what you mean,” Karrde said, throwing a glance behind him down the bridgeway. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to move on. Berchestians don’t normally hold extended conversations in bridgeways. And the tunnel can carry voices a surprising distance.”
And if there were an ambush waiting for them at the other end of the bridgeway? But if there were, Luke would know before they reached it. “Fine with me,” he said, stepping to the side and gesturing Karrde forward.
The other favored him with a sardonic smile. “You don’t trust me, do you?” he said, brushing past Luke and heading down the bridgeway.
“Must be Han’s influence,” Luke said apologetically, falling into step beside him. “His, or yours. Or maybe Mara’s.”
He caught the shift in Karrde’s sense: a quick flash of concern that was as quickly buried again. “Speaking of Mara, how is she?”
“Nearly recovered,” Luke assured him. “The medics tell me that repairing that kind of light neural damage isn’t difficult, just time-consuming.”
Karrde nodded, his eyes on the tunnel ahead. “I appreciate you taking care of her,” he said, almost grudgingly. “Our own medical facilities wouldn’t have been up to the task.”
Luke waved the thanks away. “It was the least we could do after the help you gave us at the
Katana
.”
“Perhaps.”
They reached the end of the bridgeway and stepped out into a street considerably less crowded than the one they’d left. Above and ahead of them, the three intricately carved government headquarter towers that faced the sea could be seen above the nearby buildings. Reaching out with the Force, Luke did a quick reading of the people passing by. Nothing. “You heading anywhere in particular?” he asked Karrde.
The other shook his head. “Wandering the city,” he said casually. “You?”
“The same,” Luke said, trying to match the other’s tone.
“And hoping to see a familiar face or two? Or three, or four, or five?”
So Karrde knew, or had guessed, why he was here. Somehow, that didn’t really surprise him. “If they’re here to be seen, I’ll find them,” he said. “I don’t suppose you have any information I could use?”
“I might,” Karrde said. “Do you have enough money to pay for it?”
“Knowing your prices, probably not,” Luke said. “But I could set you up a credit line when I get back.”
“
If
you get back,” Karrde countered. “Considering how many Imperial troops there are between you and safe territory, you’re not what I would call a good investment risk at the moment.”
Luke cocked an eyebrow at him. “As opposed to a smuggler at the top of the Empire’s locate-and-detain list?” he asked pointedly.
Karrde smiled. “As it happens, Calius is one of the few places in Imperial space where I’m perfectly safe. The Berchestian governor and I have known each other for several years. More to the point, there are certain items important to him which only I can supply.”
“Military items?”
“I’m not part of your war, Skywalker,” Karrde reminded him coolly. “I’m neutral, and I intend to stay that way. I thought I’d made that clear to you and your sister when we last parted company.”
“Oh, it was clear enough,” Luke agreed. “I just thought that events of the past month might have changed your mind.”
Karrde’s expression didn’t change, but Luke could detect the almost unwilling shift in his sense. “I don’t particularly like the idea of Grand Admiral Thrawn having access to a cloning facility,” he conceded. “It has the long-term potential for shifting the balance of power in his favor, and that’s something neither of us wants to see happen. But I think your side is rather overreacting to the situation.”
“I don’t know how you can call it overreacting,” Luke said. “The Empire has most of the two hundred Dreadnaughts of the
Katana
fleet, and now they’ve got an unlimited supply of clones to crew them with.”
” ‘Unlimited’ is hardly the word I would use,” Karrde said. “Clones can only be grown so quickly if you want them mentally stable enough to trust with your warships. One year minimum per clone, as I recall the old rule of thumb.”
A group of five Vaathkree passed by in front of them along a cross street. So far the Empire had been only cloning humans, but Luke checked them out anyway. Again, nothing. “A year per clone, you say?”
“At the absolute minimum,” Karrde said. “The pre-Clone Wars documents I’ve seen suggest three to five years would be a more appropriate period. Quicker than the standard human growth cycle, certainly, but hardly any reason for panic.”
Luke looked up at the carved towers, their sunlit red-orange in sharp contrast to the billowing white clouds rolling in from the sea behind them. “What would you say if I told you the clones who attacked us on the
Katana
were grown in less than a year?”
Karrde shrugged. “That depends on how much less.”
“The full cycle was fifteen to twenty days.”
Karrde stopped short. “What?” he demanded, turning to stare at Luke.
“Fifteen to twenty days,” Luke repeated, stopping beside him.
For a long moment Karrde locked eyes with him. Then, slowly, he turned away and began walking again. “That’s impossible,” he said. “There must be an error.”
“I can get you a copy of the studies.” Karrde nodded thoughtfully, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. “At least that explains Ukio.”
“Ukio?” Luke frowned.
Karrde glanced at him. “That’s right—you’ve probably been out of touch for a while. Two days ago the Imperials launched a multiple attack on targets in the Abrion and Dufilvian sectors. They severely damaged the military base at Ord Pardron and captured the Ukio system.”
Luke felt a hollow sensation in his stomach. Ukio was one of the top five producers of foodstuffs in the entire NewRepublic. The repercussions for Abrion sector alone— “How badly was Ukio damaged?”
“Apparently not at all,” Karrde said. “My sources tell me it was taken with its shields and ground/space weaponry intact.”
The hollow feeling got a little bigger. “I thought that was impossible to do.”
“A knack for doing the impossible was one of the things Grand Admirals were selected for,” Karrde said dryly. “Details of the attack are still sketchy; it’ll be interesting to see how he pulled it off.”
So Thrawn had the
Katana
Dreadnaughts; and he had clones to man them with; and now he had the ability to provide food for those clones. “This isn’t just the setup to another series of raids,” Luke said slowly. “The Empire’s getting ready to launch a major offensive.”
“It does begin to look that way,” Karrde agreed. “Offhand, I’d say you have your work cut out for you.”
Luke studied him. Karrde’s voice and face were as calm as ever, but the sense behind them wasn’t nearly so certain anymore. “And none of this changes your mind?” he prompted the other.
“I’m not joining the NewRepublic, Skywalker,” Karrde said, shaking his head. “For many reasons. Not the least being that I don’t entirely trust certain elements in your government.”
“I think Fey’lya’s been pretty well discredited—”
“I wasn’t referring only to Fey’lya,” Karrde cut him off. “You know as well as I do how fond the Mon Calamari have always been of smugglers. Now that Admiral Ackbar’s been reinstated to his Council and Supreme Commander positions, all of us in the trade are going to have to start watching over our shoulders again.”