“Well, this time it’s going to work,” Han said positively. “No Bothans, no riots, no one shooting at us. Guaranteed.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she warned, pulling out of the hug for a quick kiss. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as you’re packed,” he said, squeezing her arm. “And hurry up&mdashI’ve been packed for hours.”
“Yes, sir,” Leia said, mock-seriously, as she stood up and headed for their bedroom. Some quiet, peaceful time away from trouble and controversy. Yes, it was exactly what she needed.
The tallgrain farms of Pakrik Minor. She could hardly wait.
CHAPTER
24
The scouts had spent the past twenty-eight hours sweeping the system; and when they returned they brought the report Admiral Pellaeon had been expecting. Except for the Chimaera itself, the Pesitiin system was about as deserted as a region of space could be.
“Offhand, sir, I’d say he turned down your offer,” Captain Ardiff said, coming up beside Pellaeon on the Star Destroyer’s command walkway.
“Perhaps,” Pellaeon said, gazing out the viewport at the stars. “It’s also possible that my suggested timetable was a little optimistic. General Bel Iblis may be having difficulty convincing the New Republic hierarchy that it would be to their benefit to talk to me.”
“Or else he’s having trouble putting together a big enough combat force to take on an Imperial Star Destroyer,” Ardiff said ominously. “It strikes me that this could be a giant rachnid’s web we’re comfortably settling ourselves into the middle of.”
“Relax, Captain,” Pellaeon soothed the younger man. For all his budding military capability, Ardiff had a tendency to ramble over his own tongue when he was feeling nervous. “Bel Iblis is a man of honor. He wouldn’t betray my invitation that way.”
“I seem to recall that he was also once a man of ambition,” Ardiff countered. “And at the moment be looks to be getting lost among the swarm of other generals and admirals infesting the New Republic military. It could easily occur to an ambitious man that capturing you would dramatically increase his visibility.”
Pellaeon smiled. “I’d like to believe that after all these years I could still be such a valuable prize,” he said. “But I hardly think that to be the case.”
“You can be as modest as you want, Admiral,” Ardiff said, gazing uneasily out at the starlit sky. “But right now you’re about the only thing that’s holding the Empire together.”
Pellaeon gazed out at the stars. “Or the only chance we have of survival,” he added quietly.
“However you want to think about it, sir,” Ardiff said, a note of asperity creeping into his voice. “The point remains that Colonel Vermel went out to deliver your message and never returned. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Pellaeon had to concede. “I take it you have a theory?”
“Yes, sir, the same theory I’ve had since before we left Yaga Minor,” Ardiff said. “I think Vermel learned something, either from Bel Iblis directly or else he overheard something someone else said. That whatever he heard made it necessary for Bet Iblis to lock him up where he couldn’t communicate with you. That at best we’re wasting our time, and that at worst we’re walking into a trap.”
“It’s still a worthwhile gamble, Captain,” Pellaeon said quietly. We’ll give Bel Iblis a few days to show up. After that-“
“Admiral Pellaeon?” the sensor officer called from the starboard drew pit. “Incoming ships, sir. Looks like eight of them, coming in on vector one-six-four by fifty-three.”
Pellaeon felt his throat tighten. “Identification?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
“Four are Corellian gunships,” another voice called. “The big one’s a Kaloth battlecruiser&mdashlooks like it’s been heavily modified. Three are Telgorn Pacifier-class assault boats. IDs … inconclusive.”
“What do you mean, inconclusive?” Ardiff demanded.
“Their IDs don’t match anything in the registry,” the officer said. “I’m running an overlay check to see if I can unravel them.”
“Disguised ships,” Ardiff said darkly.
“Smugglers use ID overlays, too,” Pellaeon reminded him. “So do pirates and some mercenary groups.”
“I know that, sir,” Ardiff said. “I also know that there’s precious little in this system any of those groups could possibly want.”
“A point,” Pellaeon admitted. “Communications officer, transmit our identification and ask for theirs.”