Survivor's Quest

Luke was back in his dark jumpsuit and duster, but Mara had passed up her formal gown in favor of a jumpsuit similar to Luke's that she could move more freely in if necessary. Still, her natural poise and elegance made him feel as if she were far better dressed than he was. "Next trip," Luke murmured to her as the Chiss standard-bearer led the way into the tu

"I've always said you and Han are the scruffiest heroes I've ever met," she murmured back.

He looked sideways at her. The comment was typical Mara—that sarcastic ma

But this time he could tell that the words were pure reflex. There was something going on behind her eyes, some strange concentration.

Shifting his eyes back forward, Luke stretched out to the Force. If something was bothering Mara, he'd better get up to speed, too.

They emerged from the tu

"Must be some housekeeping droids still functioning," Fel said. "Or at least there were. Repair droids, too—see where they've patched the cracks in the hull?"

"These machines can still function after all these years?" Bearsh asked in wonderment. "With no one to supervise or repair them?"

"Everything aboard Outbound Flight was well automated," Fel said. "It was all internal rather than being linked to a lot of other ships. Otherwise they would have needed probably sixteen thousand people on each Dreadnaught just to crew it."

"So few?" Bearsh asked, looking around. "Our own vessel is less than half this size, yet it carries more than sixty thousand Geroons."

"Sure, but this wasn't just a colony ship with everyone packed tightly inside," Fel pointed out. "The Dreadnaughts were warships, the biggest the Old Republic had before the Clone Wars, with weaponry and equipment—"

Formbi cleared his throat. Fel took the hint and subsided.

"On behalf of the Nine Ruling Families of the Chiss Ascendancy, I welcome you all to this solemn and sorrowful occasion," the Aristocra began, his voice deep and resonant. "We stand today on the deck of an ancient vessel that lies here as a symbol of human courage and Chiss failing..."

Luke let his eyes drift around the group as Formbi continued his speech. Off to the side, he noticed, Bearsh was murmuring into a bulky comlink in the melodic Geroon language. Probably giving Estosh a ru

Personally, Luke considered that a rather ridiculous reason to leave him behind. But he'd been with the New Republic long enough to know that not every aspect of an alien culture had to make sense to him. It was enough that such rules and customs were important to the people who lived under them, and that as such they were worthy of his respect if not necessarily his approval.

And then, without warning, something touched Luke's mind. The last sensation he would ever have expected.

He twisted his head to look at Mara. One glance at her widened eyes was all he needed to show she'd caught it, too. "Luke—?" she whispered tightly.

"What is it?" Formbi demanded, cutting off his speech in midsentence. "What's happened?"

Luke took a deep breath. "It's Outbound Flight," he said, stretching out harder to the Force. No mistake. They were there: minds—human minds, not Chiss—somewhere deep beneath them. A lot of them. "We're not alone, Aristocra Formbi. There are survivors aboard."

CHAPTER 11

Someone gasped, a sharp intake of air, just as quickly cut off. "What did you say?" Bearsh demanded, his comlink sagging forgotten in his grip. "You say... survivors?"

"Unless the Chiss are ru

"But that's impossible," Jinzler said, his voice hoarse. "This ship died fifty years ago. It died."

Mara frowned, drawing some of her concentration away from the distant minds to focus on Jinzler. His lined face was tight, his sense swirling like storm clouds in a crosswind, every mental barrier stripped away in a strange combination of hope and dread and guilt.

And in that moment she knew that he hadn't been lying, at least not about his sister having been aboard.

Or was she possibly still aboard? Was that the thought that was sending this emotional groundquake through him? "Maybe the ship died, Ambassador," she told him. "But not everyone aboard died with it."

"Well," Fel said, his voice studiously matter-of-fact. "This complicates things."

"It does indeed," Formbi said, his glowing eyes narrowed in concentration. "It complicates things tremendously."

Mara caught Luke's eye. "What do you think?" she asked. "Shall we leave them here to discuss the diplomatic ramifications while you and I just go find these people?"

The gambit worked. "No," Formbi insisted, snapping out of whatever deep thoughts he'd been working on. "You ca

"Absolutely not," Drask agreed, gesturing to the standard-bearer. "You—return to the Chaf Envoy and instruct Captain Brast'alshi'barku to issue a drace-two alert. He is to prepare three squads—"

"Wait a minute," Luke interrupted. "You can't bring a contingent of soldiers in here."

"This vessel is still the property of the Chiss Ascendancy," Drask said, glaring warningly at him. "We will do whatever we please."

"I'm not disputing that," Luke said. "I'm simply concerned about what the passengers may do if they see a group of armed Chiss coming down the corridors toward them."

"He raises a fair point," Formbi said reluctantly. "They may remember that it was a picket unit of the Chiss Defense Fleet that destroyed their vessel."

"And so they will be afraid until we can speak with them and assure them of our intentions," Drask said impatiently. "I do not think a few minutes of fear is too much to ask of them."

"I wasn't worried about how they would feel," Luke said. "I was thinking about what they might do if they saw a corridor full of armed Chiss. Bearing in mind what happened the last time they saw a group like that."

"Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo did not send warriors aboard," Drask said. "There is no record in any testimony of his doing so."

"But they would have seen someone with blue skin and red eyes," Mara pointed out. "Either Thrawn himself or some other envoy. Unless you're suggesting he would have attacked without even offering them the chance to surrender?"

Drask glared at her. "No," he growled. "Not even Mitth'raw'nuruodo would have done that."

"Right," Mara said. "So they'll have known who the enemy was. And they've had fifty years to prepare for attack."

"And as Commander Fel pointed out, Dreadnaughts were designed as warships," Luke added.