The Hand Of Thrawn Duology_ Specter Of The Past Part 24

His future...

He glanced back at Artoo, the memory of their time with Yoda drifting to mind. Luke's Jedi training, and that first time he'd gotten a glimpse into the future.

A glimpse that had nearly resulted in disaster. He'd rushed off madly to Cloud City to try to save Han and Leia, and had instead nearly gotten all of them killed.

But he'd learned so much about the Force since then. And he had been able to draw other visions of the future without doing anything rash. Lately his efforts in that direction had been strangely unrewarding; but as long as he was supposed to take it easy for an hour or so anyway, it wouldn't hurt to give it a try.

"Artoo, I'm going to meditate for a while," he told the droid, slipping out of the chair and settling himself cross-legged on the floor. "See if I can get some direction. Don't let anyone disturb me, all right?"

The droid buzzed an affirmative. Taking a deep breath, Luke closed his eyes and stretched out to the Force. His thoughts-his emotions-his entire being-slipped into the proper pattern.

And suddenly the whole universe exploded in front of him into a brilliant kaleidoscope of color and motion.

He gasped, the vast image wavering momentarily like desert heat-s.h.i.+mmer as he nearly lost control. It was like no vision he'd ever had before. Like nothing he'd ever seen before. A hundred different scenes, a thousand different possibilities-brilliant colors, sharp-edged sounds, joy and contentment and fear and death-all of it swirled together with the fury and randomness of a Tatooine sandstorm. Lines of possibility wove around each other or else crashed together, sometimes merging, sometimes bouncing apart again, always forever changed by the encounter. Familiar faces were there among unfamiliar ones, pa.s.sing in front of him or else flickering behind other events unfolding at the edges of his sight.

He caught a glimpse of Wedge and Rogue Squadron as they swept past in the fury of battle; saw his Jedi students inexplicably fanning out across the New Republic, leaving the Yavin academy all but deserted, saw himself standing on a balcony against the wall of a darkened canyon, gazing down at a sea of th ousands of tiny stars; saw Han and Leia facing a huge mob&mdash Han? Leia? With an effort, he grabbed on to that last line, trying to stay with it long enough to see more. For a moment he succeeded, the image sharpening into focus: Leia standing in a wide hallway, her lightsaber blazing in her hands, as a ma.s.s of bodies pushed through a tall door; Han, standing on an outside balcony with drawn blaster, looking down' at the crowd. The crowd inside flowed mindlessly forward-a hidden rooftop sniper lined up his blaster rifle&mdash And then they were gone, vanis.h.i.+ng into the swirling ma.s.s of sights and sounds. For a moment Luke tried to join the flow himself, the taste of fear mixing with the other sensations of the vision as he tried to catch up and see what was going to happen to them.

But they were gone, and with a sense that came from outside himself he knew that he'd seen all of that vision that he was going to. Easing out of the flow, he made his way back to the single fixed point in the storm, the solidness of his own being. He'd learned all he could here, and now it was time to leave. He began to draw back, the vast array of images beginning in turn to recede and darken.

And then, abruptly, one final vision appeared in front of him: Mara, surrounded by craggy rock and floating in water, her eyes closed, her arms and legs limp. As if in death.

Wait! he heard himself shout But it was too late. Mara's image faded with the rest of the vision&mdash And with a sudden gasp of air he found himself back in his room, gazing out the window at the hills.

Hills that no longer glowed golden, but were instead outlined by the subtler gloss of starlight.

"Whoa," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. He would have sworn that vision had only lasted a few minutes.

Beside him, Artoo twittered in obvious relief. "Yes, it took longer than I expected, too,"

Luke agreed. "Sorry."

The droid warbled questioningly. Getting to his feet, wincing at the sudden p.r.i.c.kling sensation in muscles left too long in one position, Luke looked at the question scrolling across the computer display. "I don't know," he had to concede. "I saw a lot of things.

But I didn't see anything that seemed to have anything to do with our search."

Which might mean, he realized suddenly, that hunting for clones was no longer what he was supposed to be doing.

But then what was he supposed to do? Go to wherever Han and Leia were and warn them? Go find Mara and warn her?

He took a deep breath, s.h.i.+fting tired muscles. Always in motion is the future, Yoda had told him after that first vision on Dagobah. At the time Luke had wondered about that remark, his vision of Han and Leia in Cloud City had seemed so simple and straightforward.

But if Yoda had instead seen something more akin to this last vision, with all its tangles and complications, then it all made sense.

Or had he seen something like that? Could it be that what Luke had experienced here was something entirely different? A special event reserved for special occasions?

It was an intriguing possibility. But for the moment, it was an issue he could put aside.

What mattered was that he'd received the guidance he'd sought, and needed to act on it.

All he had to do was figure out exactly what that guidance was.

Stepping over to the window, he looked up at the stars. You will know, Yoda had also told him, when you are calm, at peace. Taking a deep breath, Luke set about calming his mind.

Artoo's soft warbling was starting to take on a concerned tone by the time he turned back around. "All right," he told the droid. "I saw a world with a wide, deep canyon that had buildings built into the sides and a lot of lights at the bottom. Check the main computer and see where that might be."

Artoo warbled an acknowledgment and jacked into the computer outlet. Luke stepped to his side and watched as a planet name and description came up on the display. "No, it wasn't Belsavis," he said. "The surface wasn't covered with glaciers, and there were no domes. It was also a lot more pleasant." He frowned, pulling the image back from his memory. "There were bridges arching all the way across the canyon I saw. There were . . . I saw a group of nine of them, arranged in a diamond pattern: one starting on one level, two more side by side crossing from the next level down, three on the next, then two and then one."

Artoo whistled and searched some more. A half-dozen more systems scrolled across the display&mdash "Wait a minute," Luke said. "Back up one-Cejansij system. See if there are any pictures in the datafile."

The display backed up, then altered to a succession of orbital, aerial, and ground pictures. Luke watched as they went past, and by the time the series came to an end, he knew it was the place. "That's it," he said. "The Canyonade on Cejansij. That's where we're going."

The droid twittered uncertainly, his question scrolling across the bottom of the display.

"I don't know why," Luke told him. "I just know I need to go there."

There was another twitter, this one sounding slightly incredulous. "To be honest, I don't understand it myself," Luke conceded. "I saw a lot of things in that vision, things that are happening or maybe are about to happen. I saw my students leaving the academy-why, I don't know. I saw Leia and Han in some kind of trouble-"

The droid warbled anxiously, and another question appeared. "No, I don't know if Threepio was with them," Luke told him. "The point is that there are a lot of places out there we could go where I might be able to affect things. Too many places."

He pointed at the view of the vast canyon. "But the Canyonade is the only place where I actually saw myself. The one part of the vision where I felt peace."

He looked out at the stars again. "So that's where we'll go."

For a moment there was silence. Then Artoo warbled again. "Point taken," Luke agreed with a smile. "If we're going to go, let's stop dithering and go."

Besides which, he told himself as they headed for the docking bay, Leia's a Jedi in her own right. She can take care of herself. And Han's got a long history of beating the odds, too. And Rogue Squadron could manage without him, and wherever his Jedi students had been going they surely had a good reason for doing so. Whatever this trip to Cejansij was all about, all of them could do without him for a while.

Forty minutes later, once again in s.p.a.ce, he pulled the hyperdrive lever and sent the X-wing jumping to lightspeed. Trying hard not to think about the vision he'd had of Mara.

CHAPTER 13.

Ceok Orou'cya, First Secretary of the Combined Bothan Clans, was urbane, polite, and completely gracious. But beneath the polish, as near as Leia could tell, he also seemed genuinely surprised by her visit.

And beneath the surprise, she suspected, was a great deal of worry.

"You must understand my position here, Councilor Organa Solo," he said for the third time as he ushered Leia, Han, and Threepio past the outer reception station and into the sumptuous three-story lobby/atrium that filled the front third of the Combined Clans Center Building. "Your visit, unannounced this way, is highly irregular. Your request"-his fur twitched despite obvious efforts to control it-"is even more so."

"You have the letter from Gavrisom," Han put in gruffly. "You have the letter from Fey'lya. What more do you want?"

The secretary threw a sideways look at Han, and despite the seriousness of the situation Leia had to fight to keep from smiling. Han was at his absolutely most intimidating: standing stiff and tall, scowling unblinkingly, his hand resting on the blaster holstered at his side. The knuckles of his gunhand were slightly whitened with pressure as he gripped the weapon, a subtlety she'd suggested to him on the trip here from Coruscant and one that clearly wasn't lost on its intended audience.

He would have been even more intimidating with Barkhimkh and Sakhisakh standing there beside him. But Bothans didn't much like Noghri, and Leia had decided this situation was ticklish enough already without that extra strain. The two Noghri were lurking somewhere outside, a quick comlink call away if they were needed.

But she wasn't expecting them to be. Between the official weight she was bringing to bear and the threat of more physical consequences from Han, they had Orou'cya in a tight squeeze already. With luck, that should give them a good chance of getting to the financial records before anyone was able to hide or alter them.

"I personally need nothing more, Captain Solo," the secretary said. "The problem is that only one of the Combined Clan leaders may grant authorization to see the records you are requesting, and none are on this part of Bothawui at present."

Han took another step toward him. "You've got the letter from President Gavrisom-"

"Please." Leia held up a hand. "Secretary Orou'cya, I understand your situation. I believe that there may be another way out of the problem. Do I understand correctly that in his capacity as New Republic representative Councilor Fey'lya would also have access to the financial records we seek?"

The Bothan's eyes darted between the two of them, clearly suspecting a trap. "I believe he does," he answered cautiously. "I would have to check the regulations."

Leia looked at Han, lifted her eyebrows slightly. "Here," Han said, thrusting a datacard at the secretary. "I've marked the place."

Orou'cya started to take the card, hesitated, then dropped his hand back to his side.

"I'll accept your word on that," he said. "But I don't see how that point is relevant Councilor Fey'lya isn't here, and a mere letter cannot extend such privileges to another person."

"True," Leia said with a nod. "However, such privileges do extend to Councilor Fey'lya's personal possessions, do they not?"

Orou'cya frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean possessions such as his personal computers," Leia said. "Or his droids."

The Bothan looked at Threepio, and this time the fur definitely flattened. "His-? But-"

Han nudged his shoulder with the datacard. "That part's marked, too."

"And here's the record of Fey'lya's owners.h.i.+p," Leia added, producing another datacard.

Mechanically, Orou'cya took the two datacards, his eyes on the golden droid standing silent and aloof with quiet hauteur.

At least, that's what Leia hoped he saw. In actual fact, Threepio was being aloof and silent for the simple reason that he was too embarra.s.sed and chagrined for words. It was bad enough, he'd complained over and over on the trip here, that Luke had "given" him to Jabba the Hutt during their rescue of Han on Tatooine. But to be summarily sold to a Bothan diplomat without any notice whatsoever was an utter disgrace.

It didn't matter to him that the sale was only on datafile and not genuine. As far as he was concerned, the deceit involved only made it worse.

But Orou'cya didn't know that. "I see," the Bothan said, his voice rather flat, his eyes still on Threepio. "I . . ." He trailed off.

"Records room's on the third floor, right?" Han demanded into the silence.

"If you'd rather wait down here," Leia added, "I'm sure we can find what we're looking for by ourselves."

Orou'cya's fur seemed to wilt. "No, I must escort you," he murmured. "Follow me, please."

He led them across the atrium to a wide, free-span ceremonial stairway arching gracefully between the first and second floors, apparently the only route from the more or less public departments on the first floor to the private offices and meeting rooms above. At the top of the stairway was a wide overlook balcony, also clearly designed with ceremony in mind.

Ceremonial or not, though, the Bothans hadn't scrimped on security. A pair of armed guards stood at the bottom of the staircase, and Leia could see the camouflaged poles of a static barrier built into the banisters on either side a few steps up.

She also wondered how many of the privacy-glazed office windows peeking through the short trees and bushy borscii and kafvris vines from the top two floors had hidden guards watching the stairway and the atrium. Knowing the Bothans, probably at least one of them.

But no one, hidden guards or otherwise, interfered as Orou'cya led the party to the top of the staircase, then along a corridor to a more standard set of stairs leading to the third floor, and finally to a door marked simply ARCHIVES. There the secretary paused, but if he was having second thoughts, they weren't going to be given time to ripen. Brus.h.i.+ng past him, Han opened the door and went in.

Five other Bothans were in the room, seated at various data retrieval stations. All of them were looking at the door as Leia stepped inside behind Han with expressions and postures that could have been either surprise or guilt. "That one will do," Leia said, pointing to an unoccupied retrieval station near the door. "Go ahead and get started, Threepio."

Silently, Threepio shuffled off toward the station. "Thank you, Secretary Orou'cya," Leia added to their escort. "We'll call you if we need any further a.s.sistance."

"I will be available for whatever you require," Orou'cya said. Turning, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Beside Leia, Han made a rude-sounding noise. "You'd think Fey'lya would have mentioned in his letter that we're on their side here," he muttered.

"I'm sure he did," Leia agreed. "But these are Bothans. They see hidden blades everywhere."

Han grimaced. "Especially coming from other Bothans."

"It's how their internal politics work," Leia reminded him, squeezing his arm. "Come on, let's get this over with."

The order had specified a large crowd, and Navett had a.s.sured Major Tierce that his team could deliver. But now, looking at the edges of the crowd that he could see from his rooftop vantage point-a crowd that had already overflowed all available standing s.p.a.ce in the Merchant's Square-even he was impressed. This time Klif had definitely outdone himself.

"Navett?" Pensin's voice came from the tiny speaker in Navett's left ear. "Looks like they're ready to move."

"Right," Navett said, moving the attached microphone a little closer to his lips. It was a military-style comlink, scavenged from a stormtrooper helmet, and would probably be trouble if he was caught with it. But the hands-free design was more private and convenient than standard civilian cylinder types, with a better realtime encryption.

Anyway, he wasn't planning to get caught. "You'd better get in position. What's the makeup like?"

"It's a real mix this time," Pensin said. "Got a bunch of s.p.a.cers of all types from the port area, but there are a lot of shoppers and merchants, too. Everything from human to Ishori and Rodian. Got a bunch of Froffli, too-I can see those stupid hair spurs poking up above the rest of the crowd."

"Good." Aside from the general hotheadedness of the species itself, the Froffli government was one of the few that had already come out publicly for sanctions against the Bothans. A species grounded on vindictiveness; and the fact that the Bothans had spent the past fifteen years systematically grinding the Froffli light-machinery industry to dust certainly hadn't helped matters. "Make sure you're out of their way when they start their charge."

"Don't worry," Pensin said dryly. "Oops-okay, there they go. Next stop, the Combined Clans Building. You all set?"

"All set," Navett said, stroking the stock of the Nightstinger sniper's blaster rifle lying on the roof beside him. "Let's do it"

"Shh," Han said, frowning with concentration. "You hear that?"

Leia looked up from the retrieval station. "I didn't hear anything."

"It sounded like thunder," Han said, straining his ears. "Or a crowd or-there it is again."

"It's a crowd," Leia said, that Jedi look on her face. "And they're getting louder."

Han looked at the other Bothans in the room. None of them seemed to have noticed the noise. "Must be pretty good-sized if we can hear them all the stay in here."

The Jedi look was getting more intense. "I don't like this, Han," she said. "There's something not right here."

"Maybe it's one of those demonstrations that have been cropping up lately," Han said, moving toward the door. "Stay here-I'll go check it out"

The Bothans in the archive room might not have figured out what was happening, but the rest of the building was already on it. The corridor outside was alive with hurrying Bothans, some carrying boxes of datacards or other equipment, others just hurrying.