Karrde c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at Skywalker. "Thank you for your help. I believe it's now my turn to owe you one."

"Hardly," the other said. "Plakhmirakh vastly overrates my a.s.sistance back there."

"Yes, they don't generally need much help, do they?" Karrde agreed. "I've been very pleased with their service. Aside from running interference against Hutt hirelings, what brings you to Cejansij?"

Skywalker shrugged. "The Force, actually," he said. "I was trying for a vision of the future, and I saw myself here. So here I am."

"Ah," Karrde said. "Not a scheduling technique I'd be comfortable with, personally."

"I'm not exactly used to it myself," Skywalker said. "On the other hand, I was just thinking about trying to get in touch with you, and here you are, so it seems to have worked. What are you doing here, anyway, if I may ask?"

"It's not a secret," Karrde a.s.sured him. "At least, not from you. I've been looking into the possibility that outside agitators might be involved in some of the protests that have been cropping up around the New Republic. Since Cejansij has a long history of peaceful demonstrations, I thought it would be an obvious target for subversion."

"Makes sense," Skywalker mused. "Though maybe it's too obvious."

"Depends on how subtle our unknown agitators decide to be," Karrde said. "I thought it still worth checking out. You said you'd wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes," Skywalker said. "I've been wondering if you'd made any progress on our clone hunt."

"None whatsoever," Karrde conceded. "None of my information sources have heard even a whisper of clone activity. If they're out there, whoever's using them is keeping it very quiet."

"Mm," Skywalker murmured. "How about the Cavrilhu Pirates?"

Karrde shook his head. "They seem to have gone to ground." He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Not that I really blame them. Being chased out of your most secure base by a Jedi Master must be a rather disconcerting experience."

"You were chased off Myrkr by Grand Admiral Thrawn, and you didn't panic," Skywalker reminded him.

Karrde forced a smile. The memories of that time still provoked unpleasant twinges.

"Perhaps I'm made of stronger stuff. Or perhaps I just don't panic quite so noticeably."

On his desk, the intercom twittered, and he leaned over to touch the switch. "Yes?"

It was Dankin, his expression suddenly and uncharacteristically grim. "Priority message coming through from the Starry Ice," he said tartly. "Faughn says Mara's been captured."

Karrde felt his stomach tighten as he dropped back into his desk chair. "Is Faughn still on?"

"Mostly," Dankin said. "The signal's a little funny-too many relays in the mix-but it's mostly clear. Comm 5."

Karrde keyed to the channel, dimly aware that Skywalker had circled the desk and come up beside him. "This is Karrde. Faughn?"

"Yes, sir," Faughn's voice came, wavering slightly with the distortion of multiple hypers.p.a.ce relays. "We reached the Nirauan, system and observed an unidentified s.p.a.cecraft land on the second planet. Jade took our Defender and went in. We got a pulse transmission from her recorder that indicated she was in trouble. Captured, maybe worse."

Karrde could hear his heart thudding in his ears. "Dankin, do we have a copy of the recording?"

"Right here," Dankin's voice said.

"Play it."

He listened as it played through: the flight and landing, Mara's discovery of the cave and fortress, her startled exclamation and that final sickening thud. "Get H'sishi started on a scrub right away," Karrde ordered. That thud had sounded far too much like the sound of a body hitting the ground. . . . "I want everything you can get off that recording."

"We're already on it."

"We did some scrubbing of our own on the way here," Faughn said. "There's definitely breathing and a human-tempo heartbeat after she goes silent, so at least at that point she was still alive. There are fifty or more flying creatures in the cave-we can sort out at least that many sets of wings flapping-though that may not have been who she was talking to. Oh, and from the different speeds of the sound through air and bone, it looks like that thud was something hitting the front or side of her head."

Karrde grimaced. "An attack."

"Or an accident," Faughn said. "We know she was moving just before it happened, and that she was inside a cave. She could have run into a wall or something."

"We can try an echo a.n.a.lysis," Dankin suggested. "Try to figure out how close she was to the wall when she was. .h.i.t."

"Yes." Karrde looked up at Skywalker, standing in dark silence beside him, troubled eyes seemingly focused on empty s.p.a.ce. "You know anything about this?" he asked the Jedi.

"Either the planet or whoever she was talking to?"

Skywalker shook his head slowly, his eyes looking even more troubled. "No. But I did see a vision of Mara, the same time I saw myself here. And where she was . .

. it might have been a cave."

"I hated to leave her there," Faughn said. "But I also didn't want to risk all of us disappearing without letting someone know what had happened. Especially given those ships and that fortress."

"No, you did the right thing," Karrde a.s.sured her. "The question now is how we get her out." He looked up at Skywalker. "Or rather, who we send to do the job."

Skywalker must have heard the challenge in his voice. His eyes came back from whatever they were staring at to look down at Karrde. "You're suggesting I go?"

"Someone there seems to know you," Karrde pointed out. "At least, Mara thought so. You may be the only one he-or it, or they-will be willing to talk to,"

"I can't leave," Skywalker said, the words coming out almost mechanically, his attention clearly elsewhere. "I have duties here."

"You have a duty to Mara, too," Karrde countered. "For that matter, you have a duty to the rest of the New Republic. You saw one of those ships-you know we're dealing with an unknown culture here. If that fortress she saw is made of the same material as the one on Hijarna, they'll be able to sit in there and shrug off any attack we could throw at them.

And -"

"All right," Skywalker said. "I'll go."

Karrde blinked, taken slightly aback by the suddenness of the decision. He'd expected to have to argue at least a few more minutes and probably throw in something concrete before the other agreed.

But he also knew better than to question a decision he was already pushing for. "Good," he said. "Tell me what you need in the way of equipment or supplies, and we'll get it for you. You'll want a bigger ship, of course. Dankin, what do we have available?"

"No time for that," Skywalker said before Dankin could answer. "My X-wing's over in Docking Rectangle 16. If you can download a copy of the nay data to Artoo, we'll get it refueled and be on our way."

"You can't carry a pa.s.senger in an X-wing," Faughn objected. "If she's hurt-"

"Then we take her ship and leave the X-wing behind," Skywalker cut her off. "We're wasting time."

"You won't get very far in a Defender," Karrde reminded him, keying his board on a hunch.

Yes, the timing and distances would work. "Let me suggest a compromise: you leave here in your X-wing and I'll have the Dawn Beat bring the Jade's Fire to meet you off Duroon. Her droid won't be activated, but you and your R2 should be able to fly it without any trouble."

Skywalker shook his head. "I don't want to try to sneak onto Nirauan with a ship that big."

"Then leave the Fire hidden somewhere in the outer system and ride your starfighter in,"

Faughn suggested. "The docking port should handle an X-wing without any problems."

Skywalker hesitated a heartbeat, then nodded. "All right."

"Good," Karrde said. "Dankin, get onto s.p.a.ceport control and have a fuel order cut for his X-wing. Number one on the priority list, and you can bribe or threaten whoever you have to to get it there. Then put together the most comprehensive survival kit you can that will fit an X-wing's cargo hold. Two cubic meters and 110 kilograms, as I recall."

"Got it," Dankin said. "What kind of backup are we going to send in behind him?"

"As much as we can throw together," Karrde told him, keying for a list of available resources. His organization's fleet was impressively large; but scattered around the entire New Republic the way it was, it would take precious time to collect any kind of attack force together.

"I don't want any backup," Skywalker cut into his musings. "Bringing in the Jade's Fire is risky enough; the more ships in the system, the better the chances one of them will be spotted. It'll be better for me to try to slip in by myself."

"But you can't get her out alone," Faughn said.

"I can," Skywalker said softly. "I have to."

"You can't," Faughn insisted. "Karrde? Tell him."

For a long moment Karrde studied the younger man, his mind flicking back to that first meeting between the two of them aboard the Wild Karrde so long ago. Even back then Skywalker had never been what he would have called brash; but looking at him now Karrde was struck by the quiet maturity ten years had added to his face. "It's his call, Faughn,"

he said. "If he says he can do it, then he can."

Skywalker nodded. "Thank you," he said.

"I think the thanks are all on the other side," Karrde pointed out, trying to force a smile. "All right: fuel and supplies, and the Jade's Fire at Duroon. What else do you need us to do?"

"Just what you're already doing," Skywalker said. "Keep looking into these riots, and if you find anything get the information to Leia."

"Done," Karrde said. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Skywalker said, a shadow crossing his face. "Could you get word to Leia on Coruscant and tell her where I've gone?"

"I'll go myself," Karrde promised, getting to his feet again. "We'll leave as soon as you're gone."

"Thank you," Skywalker said. He turned and beaded for the office door&mdash "You said you saw Mara in a vision," Karrde called after him. "What was she doing?"

Skywalker paused in the doorway. "She was in a rocky place, floating in water," he said, not turning around. "And she looked dead."

Karrde nodded slowly. "I see."

He was still standing there, gazing at the open door, long after Skywalker bad gone.

CHAPTER 18.

Quite unfairly, the battle alarm sounded right in the middle of dessert.

For a split second Wedge considered shoveling the last three bites of his citros snow cake into his mouth at once, decided running to the landing bays with a full mouth lacked the proper dignity, and regretfully left the cake orphaned on the mess-room table.

"Starfighter wings, check in," the Peregrine's fighter coordinator was calling as Wedge slid on his flight helmet and dropped into the c.o.c.kpit of his X-wing. "Rogue Squadron, where are you?"

"Right here, Perris," Wedge said, glancing around to confirm that the rest of the squadron were indeed present in the bay. "What's going on?"

"Don't know for sure," Perris growled. "All I know is that we just got a panic call from the Sif'kric system. General Bel Iblis talked to them for maybe five minutes, and suddenly we're getting ready to fly. Okay, you show green-launch when ready."

"Copy. Okay, Rogues, let's go."

Twenty seconds later they were in s.p.a.ce, driving forward along the Peregrine's flank toward vanguard position. "I don't suppose this might be a drill," Rogue Six suggested on their private frequency.

"Well, if it is, the general owes me another dessert," Rogue Twelve put in. "Anyone been following local politics in this sector?"

"I have, a little," Rogue Nine said grimly. "My father-in-law's got some interests here.

Ten to one it's the Frezhlix; they've been feuding with the Sif'kries ever since we chased the Empire out of the area."

"Maybe they've finally decided to finish it," Rogue Two suggested.

"With General Bel Iblis and a New Republic task force right next door?" Rogue Six put in incredulously. What are they using for brains, groat cheese?"

"All ships, this is General Bel Iblis," the general's voice came on the command frequency, cutting off the conversation. "We've just been informed that a strong Frezhlix force is moving on the Sif'krie homeworld of Sif'kric. As that system is only a few minutes away, we've been asked to go take a look."

Terrific, Wedge thought sourly as he glanced back over the New Republic task force. One Katana-fleet Dreadnought, two Nebulon-B escort frigates, and three starfighter squadrons; and they were supposed to take on a force big enough to attack a whole planet?

Bel Iblis might have been reading his mind. "Obviously, we're not planning to go head-to-head with them," be continued. "In fact, we're going to have to be very careful we don't overstep our legal bounds here. That's all I can say until we get there and a.s.sess the situation. Commander Perris?"

"All ships, check in," Perris ordered. "Prepare to jump to lightspeed on my mark."

"What does he mean, legal bounds?" Rogue Six asked as the fleet began its check-in.

"My guess is that whoever called Bel Iblis wasn't someone who could officially ask for New Republic a.s.sistance," Wedge told him. "Some minor bureaucrat, maybe just a rattled s.p.a.ce-traffic controller. If we don't have an official request-"

"Rogue Squadron: go," Perris ordered.

"Copy," Wedge said. He pulled back on the hyperdrive lever, squinted as the starlines flared, and they were off.

It was a twelve-minute flight to the Sif'kric system. Alone in the solitude of hypers.p.a.ce, he spent those minutes running a final check on the X-wing's systems and armaments, and wondering how the legendary General Garm Bel Iblis was going to pull this one off.

The timer clicked down toward zero. Settling himself, Wedge pushed the lever back. The starlines flared again&mdash He blinked. What in s.p.a.ce-?

On the Rogues' private channel, somebody snorted. "You must be joking," Rogue Two said.