[Thrawn Trilogy] - 01(65)

“Right,” Lando agreed soberly. “The last thing we want is to draw the Imperials onto Karrde’s tail. We’ve got enough enemies out there as it is.” He tapped the ship’s intercom switch. “Threepio? You there?”

“Of course,” Leia’s voice returned.

“Come on up here,” Lando told the droid. “Time for your debut performance.”

The command room was filled with sculptures instead of pictures this time: over a hundred of them, lining the walls in holographic niches as well as scattered around the floor on ornate pedestals. The variety, as Pellaeon had come to expect, was astonishing, ranging from human-style chunks of simple stone and wood to others that were more like tethered living creatures than works of art. Each was illuminated by a hazy globe of light, giving sharp contrast to the darkness of the spaces between them. “Admiral?” Pellaeon called uncertainly, trying to see around the artwork and through the gloom.

“Come in, Captain,” Thrawn’s coolly modulated voice beckoned. Over at the command chair, just above the hazy white of the Grand Admiral’s uniform, two glowing red slits appeared. “You have something?”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon told him, walking to the console ring and handing a data card over it. “One of our probes in the outer Athega system has picked up Skywalker. And his companions.”

“And his companions,” Thrawn echoed thoughtfully. He took the data card, inserted it, and for a minute watched the replay in silence. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Interesting, indeed. What’s that third ship-the one maneuvering to link with the Millennium Falcon’s dorsal hatch?”

“We’ve tentatively identified it as the Lady Luck,” Pellaeon said. “Administrator Lando Calrissian’s personal ship. One of the other probes copied a transmission stating that Calrissian was leaving Nkllon on a purchasing trip.”

“Do we know that Calrissian did, in fact, board the ship at Nkllon?”

“Ah … no, sir, not for certain. We can try to get that information, though.”

“Unnecessary,” Thrawn said. “Our enemies are clearly past the stage of such childish tricks.” Thrawn pointed to the display, where the Millennium Falcon and the Lady Luck were now joined together. “Observe, Captain, their strategy. Captain Solo and his wife and probably the Wookiee Chewbacca board their ship on Nkllon, while Calrissian similarly boards his. They fly to the outer Athega system … and there they make a switch.”

Pellaeon frowned. “But we’ve-“

“Shh,” Thrawn cut him off sharply, holding up a finger for silence, his eyes on the display. Pellaeon watched, too, as absolutely nothing happened. After a few minutes the two ships separated, maneuvering carefully away from each other.

“Excellent,” Thrawn said, freezing the frame. “Four minutes fifty-three seconds. They’re in a hurry, of course, locked together so vulnerably. Which means …” His forehead furrowed in concentration, then cleared. “Three people,” he said, a touch of satisfaction in his voice. “Three people transferred, in one direction or the other, between those two ships.”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon nodded, wondering how in the Empire the Grand Admiral had figured that one out. “At any rate, we know that Leia Organa Solo remained aboard the Millennium Falcon.”

“Do we?” Thrawn asked, lazily polite. “Do we indeed?”

“I believe we do, sir, yes,” Pellaeon said, quietly insistent. The Grand Admiral hadn’t seen the entire playback, after all. “Right after the Lady Luck and Skywalker’s X-wing left, we intercepted a transmission from her that definitely originated from the Millennium Falcon.”

Thrawn shook his head. “A recording,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “No; they’re cleverer than that. A voiceprint-doctored droid, then-probably Skywalker’s 3PO protocol droid. Leia Organa Solo, you see, was one of the two people who left with the Lady Luck.”

Pellaeon looked at the display. “I don’t understand.”

“Consider the possibilities,” Thrawn said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingertips in front of him. “Three people start out aboard the Millennium Falcon, one aboard the Lady Luck. Three people then transfer. But neither Solo nor Calrissian is the type to turn his ship over to the dubious command of a computer or droid. So each ship must end up with at least one person aboard. You follow so far?”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said. “That doesn’t tell us who is where, though.”