A dark shadow had settled across Thrawn's face. 'Do not presume to dictate to me, Mara Jade,' he said quietly. 'Not even in private.' A small shiver ran up Mara's back. Yes; she was remembering indeed why Thrawn had been made a Grand Admiral. 'I was the Emperor's Hand,' she reminded him, matching the steel in his tone as best she could. Even to her own ears it came out a poor second. 'I spoke for him ... and even Grand Admirals were obliged to listen.'
Thrawn smiled sardonically. 'Really. Your memory serves you poorly, Emperor's Hand. When all is said and done, you were little more than a highly specialized courier.'
Mara glared at him. 'Perhaps it is your memory that needs refreshing, Grand Admiral Thrawn,' she retorted. 'I traveled throughout the Empire in his name, making policy decisions that changed lives at the highest levels of government-'
'You carried out his will,' Thrawn cut her off sharply. 'No more. Whether you heard his commands more clearly than the rest of his Hands is irrelevant. It was still his decisions that you implemented.'
'What do you mean, the rest of his Hands?' Mara sniffed. 'I was the only-'
She broke off. The look on Thrawn's face ... and abruptly, all her rising anger drained away. 'No,' she breathed. 'No. You're wrong.' He shrugged. 'Believe what you wish. But don't attempt to blind others with exaggerated memories of your own importance.' Reaching to his control board, he tapped a key. 'Captain? What report from the boarding party?'
The reply wasn't audible; but Mara wasn't interested in what Thrawn's men were doing, anyway. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. Hadn't the Emperor himself given her the title of Emperor's Hand? Hadn't he himself brought her to Coruscant from her home and trained her, teaching her how to use her rare sensitivity to the Force to serve him?
He wouldn't have lied to her. He wouldn't have.
'No, there's no point to that,' Thrawn said. He looked up at Mara.
'You don't happen to have any idea why Leia Organa Solo might have come to Endor, do you?'
With an effort, Mara brought her thoughts back from the past. 'Organa Solo is here?'
'The Millennium Falcon is, at any rate,' he said grimly. 'Left in orbit, which unfortunately leaves us no way of knowing where she might be. If she's there at all.' He turned back to his board. 'Very well, Captain. Have the ship brought aboard. Perhaps a closer examination will tell us something.' He got an acknowledgment and keyed off the circuit. 'Very well, Emperor's Hand,' he said, looking up at Mara again. 'We have an agreement. The Dark Force for the lifting of our death mark against Karrde. How long will it take you to return to Karrde's current base?'
Mara hesitated; but that information wouldn't do the Grand Admiral much good. 'On the Etherway, about three days. Two and a half if I push it.'
'I suggest you do so,' Thrawn said. 'Since you have exactly eight days to obtain the location and bring it back here to me.' Mara stared at him. 'Eight days? But that-'
'Eight days. Or I find him and get the location my way. A dozen possible retorts rushed through Mar'a's mind. Another look at those glowing red eyes silenced all of them. 'I'll do what I can,' she managed. Turning, she headed back across the room.
'I'm sure you will,' he said after her. 'And afterward, we'll sit down and have a long talk together. About your years away from Imperial service ... and why you've been so long in returning.' Pellaeon stared rigidly at his commander, heart thudding audibly in his chest. 'The Katana fleet?' he repeated carefully.
'So our young Emperor's Hand told me,' Thrawn said. His gaze was fixed solidly on one of the displays in front of him. 'She may be lying, of course.'
Pellaeon nodded mechanically, the possibilities sweeping out like a spread cloak before him. 'The Dark Force,' he murmured the old nickname, listening to the words echo through his mind. 'You know, I once had hopes of finding the fleet myself.'
'Most everyone your age did,' Thrawn returned dryly. 'Is the homing device properly installed aboard her ship?'
'Yes, sir.' Pellaeon let his gaze drift around the room, his eyes focusing without real interest on the sculptures and flats that Thrawn had on display today. The Dark Force. Lost for nearly fifty-five years. Now within their grasp ...
He frowned suddenly at the sculptures. Many of them looked familiar, somehow.
'They're the various pieces of art that graced the offices of Rendili StarDrive and the Fleet planning department at the time they were working on the basic design of the Katana,' Thrawn answered his unspoken question.
