Vision of the future

Parck looked shocked. 'Certainly not. The Chiss are his people, Mara—he has no interest in hurting them. Quite the opposite, in fact. He came back here to protect them.'

'From what?'

Stent gave a contemptuous snort. 'From what,' he bit out harshly. 'You soft, complacent female. You think that because you lounge around your quiet worlds behind a ring of warships that the rest of the galaxy is a safe place to live? There are a hundred different threats out there that would freeze your blood if you knew about them. The ruling families can't stop them; neither can any other power in the region. If our people are to be protected, it's up to us.'

'And you are? You specifically, I mean?'

Stent drew himself up straighter. 'We are Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo's Household Phalanx,' he said, and there was no mistaking the pride in his tone. 'We live only to serve him. And through him to serve the Chiss.'

'Whether they want your help or not, I guess,' Mara said, noting the alien's use of the present tense. There it was again: the assumption or belief that Thrawn wasn't dead. Could they be that out of touch? 'Do they even know you're out here?'

'They know the forces of the Empire are out here,' Parck said. 'And while the ruling families pretend they don't know Stent and his unit are working with us, the average Chiss does in fact know. We have a steady flow of young Chiss arriving at our various bases and garrisons to enlist in our fight.'

Mara suppressed a grimace. So they did indeed have bases out here. 'Palpatine wouldn't have been very pleased to see aliens mixing with Imperial forces,' she pointed out. 'I doubt the current regime on Bastion would, either.'

Parck's expression sobered. 'Indeed,' he said. 'Which brings us to the problem and situation we now face. Many years ago Thrawn told us that if he was ever reported dead we should keep at our labors here and in the Unknown Regions, and to look for his return ten years afterward.' Mara blinked in disbelief. They really were out of touch. 'It's going to be a long wait,' she said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. 'He was stabbed in the chest, right through the back of his command chair. Most people have a hard time recovering from that kind of treatment.'

'Thrawn is not most people,' Stent reminded her.

'Was,' Mara said. 'Not is; was. He died at Bilbringi.'

'Did he?' Parck asked. 'Did you ever see a body? Or hear anything about his supposed death that didn't come from the Imperials' own news sources?'

Mara opened her mouth... paused. Parck was leaning slightly toward her, a glint of anticipation in his eye. 'Was that a rhetorical question?' she asked. 'Or are you expecting me to have an actual answer?'

Parck smiled, leaning back in his chair again. 'I told you she was quick,' he said, looking up at Stent. 'As a matter of fact, yes, we thought you might. You have complete access to Talon Karrde's information network, after all. If anyone would know the truth, it would be you.' A sudden jolt of understanding shot through Mara. 'You weren't hunting Imperial connections when you buzzed the Cavrilhu base and Terrik's Star Destroyer, were you? You were hunting me.'

'Very good, indeed,' Parck said approvingly. 'In fact, when Dreel spotted you near that Star Destroyer he thought you and Thrawn might already have come to an arrangement. Hence, his transmission asking Thrawn to make contact.'

Mara shook her head. 'Look, I know you've been out here a long time, and I realize it must have been hard for you. But it's time to face the hard, cold facts. Like it or not, Thrawn is dead.'

'Really,' Parck said. 'Then why is the HoloNet buzzing with the news that he has returned and is making alliances?'

'And that he's been seen by many planetary and sector leaders,' Stent put in. 'Including the Diamalan Senator to Coruscant and former General Lando Calrissian.' Mara stared at him. Lando? 'No,' she said. 'You're wrong. Or you're bluffing.'

'I assure you—' Parck broke off, his eyes shifting to a point behind Mara as a breath of air on the back of her neck announced the door behind her had opened.

She turned, tensing. But it was only a youngish middle-aged man, walking with a slight limp along the left-hand wall of the long room toward her. Despite his age he wore the uniform of an Imperial TIE fighter pilot; between his graying goatee and similarly graying shock of dark hair he wore an almost unheard-of rarity: a black patch over his right eye. 'Yes, General?' Parck called to him.

'Mid-course transmission from Sorn, Admiral,' the man said, his one eye trained unblinkingly on Mara as he strode past her. 'His pass through the Bastion system was inconclusive. Lots of rumors and speculations, but no hard evidence.' He paused. 'But the rumors do say Thrawn is currently there.'