Vision of the future

'No,' Captain Ardiff said, jabbing his fork for emphasis. 'I don't believe it. Not for a minute.'

'What about the news reports?' Colonel Bas countered. 'Even stuck out here we've pulled in, what, five of them? If this thing's a hoax, it's a kriffing good one. If you'll pardon the language, sir,' he added belatedly, looking with some embarrassment at Pellaeon.

'Language pardoned, Colonel,' Pellaeon said, suppressing a smile. Bas had clawed his way up through the TIE pilot ranks to become the Chimaera's fighter commander; and though he tried hard to fit in with the generally more cultured men who made up the officer corps, the saltier language of his youth did periodically intrude.

Personally, Pellaeon rather liked that. Not the expletives per se, but the fact that the man's language was an outward sign of honest and straightforward opinions or emotions. Unlike some Pellaeon had dealt with, Bas seldom if ever tried to hide his thoughts or feelings behind polite slip-talk.

'They're rumors, Colonel—that's all,' Ardiff said, shaking his head. 'Face the facts: Thrawn died. Admiral Pellaeon was there to see it. Now, if that was some trick—' Pellaeon lowered his eyes to his plate and forked another bite of the braised bruallki, mentally tuning out the discussion. It was the same endless argument, with the same opinions and speculations, that had been playing its way around the ship in the week since Lieutenant Mavron had returned with the story of Thrawn's supposed appearance in the Kroctar system. Everyone from Ardiff on down had his own opinion on whether or not it was true, none of them could prove their opinion to anyone else, and the entire ship was about as tense as an overwound throwbow.

But the waiting, at least, was about to come to an end. He'd given General Bel Iblis a full month and a half to make his plans, and the Chimaera itself had been here at Pesitiin for two weeks. Clearly, for whatever reason, Bel Iblis wasn't coming.

And it was time to go home. To return to the Empire, and to Bastion. And, on several levels, to find out what exactly Moff Disra was up to. He would give the order to prepare for departure as soon as he was finished with his meal. If Bel Iblis didn't arrive in the hour after that—

'Admiral Pellaeon, Captain Ardiff, this is the bridge,' Major Tschel's voice came from the mess table speaker. 'Report, please.'

Ardiff got to the switch first. 'Captain here,' he said. 'The Admiral's with me. What is it?'

'A ship's just entered the system, sir,' Tschel said, his voice tight. Ardiff flashed Pellaeon a sharp look. 'A repeat performance by our pirates?'

'I don't think so, sir,' Tschel said. 'So far, at least, it's only a single ship: YT-1300 light freighter, minimally armed. They're transmitting a request to come aboard and speak with the Admiral.' Pellaeon took a deep breath. 'Is there a name attached to the transmission?' he asked.

'Yes, sir,' Tschel said. 'She claims to be New Republic High Councilor Leia Organa Solo.'

* * *

With the four TIE fighters riding escort positions on both flanks, the Falcon rose up out of sight of the distant sun, up into the shadow of the Star Destroyer's hangar bay. 'We're committed now,' Elegos said softly from the seat beside Leia.

'Yes,' Leia agreed, her hands resting on the controls, watching as the Chimaera's tractor beam reeled them steadily into itself. 'We are indeed.'

'Does that disturb you?' the Caamasi asked. 'What are you thinking?' Leia shrugged, a quick movement of tense shoulders. 'On one level, of course it disturbs me,' she told him. 'Risks are always something a rational being prefers to avoid. But not all risks are bad. All in all, this is a good risk.'

She half turned and tried a smile. 'As to the other part of your question, I was just thinking that if Threepio were here, he'd probably be saying 'We're doomed' about now.' Elegos chuckled, a uniquely Caamasi sound. 'Very good,' he said. 'I have not known much about you, Councilor, save what I have read and heard from others. This voyage, short though it has been, has been greatly instructive. Whatever happens next, I will always consider myself honored to have had these few days together with you.'

Leia took a deep breath. The words themselves, taken alone, could be construed to have an ominous ring to them. But spoken with the Caamasi's quiet warmth, all potential threat or fear vanished. What came across instead was courage and hope and resolve; an inspiration and strength that came not so much from Elegos as it did from hidden reserves of her own. Reserves his words and presence were somehow able to draw out of her.

It was small wonder, she thought with distant ache, that the power-insatiable Senator Palpatine had wanted such a dangerous people destroyed.

There was a lone figure waiting at the foot of the Falcon's ramp as Leia and the other three started down: a white-haired man of medium height, his face lined with age but with the parade-ground- straight back of a professional military officer. He wore the Imperial uniform well, Leia thought; he wore the chest insignia of a Fleet admiral even better. 'Councilor Organa Solo,' he said, nodding gravely as she approached. 'I'm Admiral Pellaeon. Welcome aboard the Chimaera.'