Vision of the future

'Han!' she gasped. 'What in the worlds did you do?'

'Like I said, a little diplomacy,' Han said. 'I got to remembering that Thrawn suggested to Lando and me that Fey'lya had a little private army stashed away. Made sense to me, so I called the little furball and pointed out that any Bothan who helped save Bothawui could really cash in on that when this was all over.'

'And Fey'lya came up with all of that?' Leia asked, still not believing it.

'Not exactly,' Han said smugly. 'Turns out there was a lot of signal leakage in my transmission. Battle damage, probably. I figure half the planet must have heard what I said to him.' And finally, Leia understood. 'And of course none of them wanted Fey'lya to grab all the glory for himself,' she said, smiling tightly. 'Have I told you lately that you're brilliant?'

'No,' he said. 'But that's okay—you've been busy. Are we ready?'

'We're ready,' Leia said, nodding. 'General Calrissian: your fleet awaits your orders.'

* * *

For a long minute the bridge seemed to have become suspended in time and space. Moff Disra stood stiffly where he was, a couple of steps away from the two female civilians, his face contorted with disbelief and hatred and perhaps even a touch of fear. Major Tierce had stopped, too, halfway along the command walkway, looking back at Pellaeon with an unreadable expression on his face. Captain Dorja and the officers at the side consoles were staring back at him, and even the men down in the crew pits had somehow sensed something was wrong and had dropped their voices to whispers.

'Admiral Pellaeon,' Thrawn's smoothly modulated voice broke the silence. Pellaeon had rather expected him to be the first to speak. 'Welcome aboard the Relentless. I'm afraid we somehow missed the news of your arrival.'

'As I somehow missed the news of your return,' Pellaeon countered. Like Tierce, the expression behind those glowing red eyes was unreadable. 'An unintentional oversight, I'm sure.'

'Are you questioning the Grand Admiral's decisions?' Disra snarled.

'On the contrary,' Pellaeon assured him. 'I've always had the highest respect for Grand Admiral Thrawn.'

'Then why sneak aboard this way?' Tierce demanded, coming back along the walkway and stopping next to the younger of the two women. 'Do you have something to hide? Or some dark errand of treason to carry out?'

Deliberately, Pellaeon shifted his gaze from the major to the women beside him. 'I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced,' he said, bowing his head in greeting. 'I'm Admiral Pellaeon, Supreme Commander of Imperial forces.'

'Not anymore you're not,' Disra growled. 'Grand Admiral Thrawn is in command now.'

'Really,' Pellaeon said, eyeing him coolly. 'I wasn't informed of any change of command. Another unintentional oversight?'

'Take care, Admiral,' Tierce warned softly. 'You're treading on very slippery ground here.' Pellaeon shook his head. 'You're mistaken, Major,' he said. 'Whatever slippery ground exists here is beneath your feet.' He looked at Disra. 'And yours, Your Excellency.' He shifted his gaze to the man in the white Grand Admiral's uniform. 'And yours... Flim.' Disra's head jerked as if he'd touched a live power cable. 'What are you talking about?' he demanded. But there was a new tremor in the Moff's voice, and his eyes were those of a man seeing sudden destruction coming inexorably toward him.

'I'm talking about an accomplished con artist,' Pellaeon said, raising his voice so that the entire bridge could hear. 'I have his rather colorful life history right here,' he added, pulling a datacard from his tunic and holding it up. 'Including detailed holos and a complete genetic profile.' He looked across at Flim. 'Would you care to accompany me to the nearest medical station for an examination?'

'But we checked his genetic profile, sir,' Captain Dorja objected, stepping away from the side console where he'd been standing. 'Captain Nalgol took a skin sample and compared it to Thrawn's official records.'

'Records can be altered, Captain,' Pellaeon reminded him. 'Even official records, if the access codes have been sliced. When we return to Bastion, you can compare the genetic records with those on this datacard.'

'Lies can even more easily be created on datacards,' Tierce said. His voice was calm, but there was an edge of something vicious beneath it. 'This is nothing but a last, pitiful attempt to undermine Grand Admiral Thrawn's authority, driven by Pellaeon's jealous fear of losing his position and prestige.'

He half turned. 'You see it, Captain Dorja, don't you?' he called. 'Thrawn came to you instead of Pellaeon—that's what he can't stomach. He came to you and Nalgol and the others and not to him.' Dorja's eyes met Pellaeon's, his face tight with confusion. 'Admiral, I've always trusted your word and your judgment,' he said. 'But in this case...'

'There's one other record of interest on this datacard,' Pellaeon said, looking back at Tierce.