[Thrawn Trilogy] - 02(106)

She grabbed at the iron-hard arm across her throat, simultaneously throwing her right elbow back toward his torso. But the blow missed; and even as she shifted to a two-handed grip on his arm, white spots began to flicker in her vision. His forearm was pressing solidly against her carotid artery, threatening her with unconsciousness.

There wasn’t anything to be gained by blacking out. She relaxed her struggle, felt the pressure ease. Thrawn was still standing there, regarding her with amusement. “That was very unprofessional of you, Emperor’s Hand,” he chided.

Mara glared at him and lashed out again, this time with the Force. Thrawn frowned slightly, fingers moving across his neck as if trying to brush away an intangible cobweb. Mara leaned into her tenuous grip on his throat; and he brushed again at his neck before understanding came. “All right, that’s enough,” he said, his voice noticeably altered, his tone starting to get angry. “Stop it, or Rukh will have to hurt you.”

Mara ignored the order, digging in as hard as she could. Thrawn gazed unblinkingly back at her, his throat muscles moving as he fought against the grip. Mara clenched her teeth, waiting for the order or hand movement that would signal permission for the Noghri to choke her, or for the stormtroopers to burn her down.

But Thrawn remained silent and unmoving : and a minute later, gasping for breath, Mara had to concede defeat.

“I trust you’ve learned the limits of your small powers,” Thrawn said coldly, fingering his throat. But at least he didn’t sound amused anymore. “A little trick the Emperor taught you?”

“He taught me a great many tricks,” Mara bit out, ignoring the throbbing in her temples. “How to deal with traitors was one of them.”

Thrawn’s glowing eyes glittered. “Have a care, Jade,” he said softly. “I rule the Empire now. Not some long-dead Emperor; certainly not you. The only treason is defiance of my orders. I’m willing to let you come back to your rightful place in the Empire-as first officer, perhaps, of one of the Katana Dreadnaughts. But any further outbursts like this one and that offer will be summarily withdrawn.”

“And then you’ll kill me, I suppose,” Mara growled. “My Empire isn’t in the habit of wasting valuable resources, the other countered. “You’d be given instead to Master C’baoth as a little bonus gift. And I suspect you would soon wish I’d had you executed.”

Mara stared at him, an involuntary shiver running up her back. “Who is C’baoth?”

“Joruus C’baoth is a mad Jedi Master,” Thrawn told her darkly. “He’s consented to help our war effort, in exchange for Jedi to mold into whatever twisted image he chooses. Your friend Skywalker has already walked into his web; his sister, Organa Solo, we hope to deliver soon.” His face hardened. “I would genuinely hate for you to have to join them.”

Mara took a deep breath. “I understand,” she said, forcing out the words. “You’ve made your point. It won’t happen again.”

He eyed her a moment, then nodded. “Apology accepted,” he said. “Release her, Rukh. Now. Do I take it you wish to rejoin the Empire?”

The Noghri let go of her neck-reluctantly, Mara thought-and took a short step away. “What about the rest of Karrde’s people?” she asked.

“As we agreed, they’re free to go about their business. I’ve already canceled all Imperial search and detention orders concerning them, and Captain Pellaeon is at this moment calling off the bounty hunters.”

“And Karrde himself?”

Thrawn studied her face. “He’ll remain aboard until he tells me where the Katana fleet is. If he does so with a minimum of wasted time and effort on our part, he’ll receive the three million in compensation which you and I agreed on at Endor. If not:there may not be much left of him to pay compensation to.”

Mara felt her lip twitch. He wasn’t bluffing, either. She’d seen what a full-bore Imperial interrogation could do. “May I talk to him?” she asked.

“Why?”

“I might be able to persuade him to cooperate.”

Thrawn smiled slightly. “Or could at least assure him that you did not, in fact, betray him?”

“He’ll still be locked in your detention block,” Mara reminded him, forcing her voice to stay calm. “There’s no reason for him not to know the truth.”

Thrawn lifted his eyebrows. “On the contrary,” he said. “A sense of utter abandonment is one of the more useful psychological tools available to us. A few days with only thoughts of that sort to relieve the monotony may convince him to cooperate without harsher treatment.”