Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(119)

“Don’t give me I don’t know,” LebJau snarled. “That’s my world down there! What the frost did you do?”

“I just collapsed the tunnels,” Anakin said. The ship was leveling off now, outside the edge of the roiling fountain still pouring from the mine. “It shouldn’t—look, I’ve taken down mines before. I know how to do it.”

“But this isn’t just a mine,” Padmé said, staring at the biggest of the glowing globs on the ship’s hull as she suddenly understood. “It’s a cortosis mine.”

“What does that—?” Anakin broke off. “No—that’s crazy. It’s only supposed to redirect blaster energy.”

“I guess it can redirect the heat of explosives, too,” Padmé bit out, her stomach tightening into a painful knot. “That’s lava out there, Anakin. However the cortosis did it, it sent your explosion straight down through the crust into the magma.”

For a long moment, none of them said anything. There was nothing to say.

“Doesn’t look like it’s coming too close to your town,” Padmé said at last. Even to herself, the attempt at solace sounded pitiful. “It’s blowing away from the factory, too.”

“No, it’s just pouring lava onto our best cropland,” LebJau said bitterly. “And that ash and smoke…it’s going to be in the air and cropland and water for years. Maybe forever.”

Padmé looked at Anakin. His jaw was set, his eyes focused straight ahead. Collateral damage—the other cliché came to her mind.

Collateral damage. A planet full of people, just trying to live their lives. The kind of ordinary civilians she and Anakin had once dedicated themselves to protecting.

Collateral damage. And it hadn’t started here, either. She’d been doing it ever since she arrived on Mokivj. She’d cajoled and bribed and all but insisted that LebJau and his friends work for her; that they risk everything for this stranger who’d dropped into their midst.

Collateral damage. Had she become so numbed and war-weary that she no longer even saw what she was doing to everyone else around her?

“But I guess there’s nothing we can do about it now,” LebJau continued. The bitterness was gone, leaving only tiredness behind.

“I’ll talk to the Senate,” Padmé promised. “We’ll talk to the Senate,” she amended, looking at Anakin. “Maybe they can send some help.”

Anakin didn’t reply.

But then, he knew as well as she did that the words were meaningless. The Senate had far too many demands on its limited resources to even notice Mokivj, let alone help its people.

Collateral damage.

“Yeah,” LebJau said. He wasn’t fooled, either. “Can we get out of here now?”

“Sure,” Anakin said. “Batuu?”

“It’s as good a place as any to start a new life,” LebJau said. His eyes, Padmé noted, were still on the magma geyser.

“You can always try the Black Spire cantina,” Anakin said. “I’m guessing they go through a lot of bartenders at that place.”

“Sure,” LebJau said. “I’ll think about it.”





The Chiss warship drifted away from the Chimaera and turned back onto its original vector. A moment’s pause; then with a flicker of pseudomotion it was gone.

For a moment Vader gazed out the main viewport after it. The ship wasn’t nearly as big as a Star Destroyer, but from what he’d seen of its flankside weapons it would be a formidable opponent.

He sensed Thrawn’s presence behind him before he heard the soft footsteps on the command walkway. “All is well?” he asked the Chiss.

“All is well,” Thrawn said. “Admiral Ar’alani will return the children to their families, and has promised to bolster the defenses of the colony world from which they were taken.”

“Yes,” Vader said. “The time has come, Admiral.”

“The time?”

“You promised proof that the Grysks are a threat to the Empire.” Vader turned to face Thrawn. “If such proof does indeed exist.”

“It awaits us in my office,” Thrawn assured him. “At your convenience.”

Vader strode past him down the walkway, his cloak swirling. Thrawn’s office was off the rear of the aft bridge; stretching out with the Force to wave the door open, he walked inside.

Lying in the middle of the desk, taking up half the available space, was a section of half-disassembled machinery. “This is the proof?” he demanded as Thrawn closed the door and crossed to the other side of the desk.

“It is, my lord,” Thrawn confirmed. “It is the inner power coupling mechanism from one of the Grysk gravity projectors. Note the meshwork wrapping the three poles and linking to the shield shell?”

Vader frowned. The material looked familiar…

He stiffened. “Cortosis?”

“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “This is what the Grysks use the material for: power couplings and energy management. It cannot dissipate the sharp power gradient of their arc-cannon weaponry, as you saw, and so is of no use to them as armor.”

“How does that prove Grysk interference with the Empire?”

“I propose two questions,” Thrawn said. “First: How did the Grysks know that cortosis would be an effective defense against blasters and lightsabers?”