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[Hand Of Thrawn] - 01(129)



“They have no more than a thousand worlds remaining,” a Senator who Leia couldn’t identify put in scornfully. “With no more than a hundred Star Destroyers and a few thousand lesser ships. Do you suggest that such a pitiful force could withstand the full thunder of our trampling hooves?”

“You do not know this Thrawn-“

“Please,” President Gavrisom cut in. “All of you. We of the Council certainly understand your concerns and your fears. However, at this point I would urge you to ponder this news without jumping to either hasty conclusions or premature actions.”

“A preemptive strike would not be a premature action,” a huffy voice insisted. “I agree with the Likashan Senator that we must move immediately against the remnants of the Empire.”

“Yes,” the Likash squealed. “Grand Admiral Thrawn nearly defeated us once, we cannot allow him the time he needs to attack us again.”

“He’s already had all the time he needs,” the Sronk shot back. “Weren’t you listening to what I said? He wouldn’t have revealed himself if he wasn’t ready for us.”

“But the situation isn’t the same as it was ten years ago,” Leia reminded them, striving to keep her own voice steady and to keep the growing sense of dread in the chamber from feeding into her own fears. “Back then Thrawn still had nearly a quarter of the old Empire to work with. As has already been pointed out, his resources are almost nonexistent now.”

“So let us take the rest away from him,” a voice shouted. “Let us destroy him now!”

“We cannot destroy him,” Gavrisom said. “Even if we wanted to, which I’m not yet convinced is the proper response to his offer.”

“Why not?” the Likash demanded. “The New Republic has far more warships than the Empire.”

The Maerdocian Senator roared something in his own language. “Do you imply you would seriously consider allowing him to interrogate New Republic officials?” the translation whispered in Leia’s ear. “That way lies madness.”

“He doesn’t want all of us,” the Kian’thar Senator pointed out “He wants only the Bothans.”

There was another roar. “Do you genuinely believe it would end with the Bothans?” the translation demanded. “If so, your path is toward madness.”

Gavrisom tapped a key on his board, shutting down the chamber sound system. The shouting died reluctantly away, and he turned the system back on. “Please,” be said mildly. “Let us keep our focus clear in this debate. Certainly we have no intention of permitting an Imperial official to interrogate the leaders of any New Republic member world. However, it is equally unreasonable at this point to suggest a concerted attack against the Empire. While it is true that a state of war technically exists between us, recent hostilities have been few and mostly accidental. More to the point, even though our forces outnumber theirs, those forces are at the moment widely dispersed across the galaxy.”

He shook his mane in a gesture of mild reproof. “Attempting, as you are all aware, to bring some measure of stability to the New Republic against the stirrings of hundreds of threatening internal wars.”

“How ver’ conven’ent,” the Garoosh Senator half-whistled sarcastically. “For the Empire, a’ least.”

“They’re probably the ones inciting all the wars,” someone suggested with obvious contempt. “That would be just like Thrawn’s style. Panning the fires of stupid hatred and primitive genocidal nonsense-“

“Do not call our long struggle stupid,” the Forshul Senator rumbled. “And as for genocide, I find it highly significant that our oppressors the Prosslee stand ready to excuse the Bothans’ own actions against the Caamasi. It is the duty of all right-thinking beings to recognize such an attitude as a danger, not only to my people but also to all of Yminis sector-“

Gavrisom touched the cutoff switch again, and the Forshul’s voice dropped into a distant and indistinct voice booming from her section of the chamber. “I thank the Senator from Yminis sector for her comments,” the President said. “I would also remind her that this is not the time for such speeches.”

“President Gavrisom, I would speak,” a familiar voice simmering with familiar anger rolled across the chamber, filling the space even with the sound system turned off.

Leia looked that direction. Ghic Dx’ono, the Ishori Senator, was on his feet, his whole body trembling with the physical rage that in his species always accompanied deep thought. “You may speak,” Gavrisom told him, turning the sound system on again. “I would caution you that as this chamber does not wish to hear a tirade against the Prosslee, we also do not wish to hear one against the Diamala.”