"What use, indeed," Formbi agreed. Turning toward the command floor, he lifted his voice. "We are ready, Captain Talshib," he called. "Take us to Outbound Flight."
Feesa had called this place the forward observation lounge during their inspection tour of the Chaf Envoy, Jinzler remembered as he sipped the drink he'd brought with him and gazed out the curved viewport stretching across the entire end of the room in front of him. It had had a spectacular view of the Chiss starscape at the time, as well as a large collection of comfortable-looking chairs and couches, and he'd made a mental note to come back later after things had quieted down.
Now, of course, half a standard hour into their trip to Outbound Flight, the view wasn't nearly so interesting. Hyperspace, after all, looked pretty much the same anywhere you went.
But the couch was still comfortable, he had his drink and his solitude, and they were on their way to Outbound Flight. At the moment, that was all he asked out of life.
He lifted his glass to the mottled patterns of hyperspace streaming by. To Lorana, he gave a silent toast.
Behind him, the lounge door slid open. "Hello?" a voice called tentatively.
Jinzler sighed. So much for the solitude part. "Hello," he called back. "This is Dean—Ambassador Jinzler," he corrected himself.
"Oh," the other said tentatively, and as Jinzler turned he could see a shadowy figure move into the darkness. "I am Estosh. Do I intrude?"
One of the Geroons. The youngest, in fact, if Jinzler was remembering the introductions correctly. "No, of course not," he assured the alien. "Come in."
"Thank you," Estosh said, groping his way through the maze of furniture to Jinzler's couch. "What do you do here?"
"Nothing, really," Jinzler said. "I was just watching the light-years fly past, and thinking about Outbound Flight."
"They were a great people," Estosh said softly, sitting gingerly down beside Jinzler. "Which of course makes you yourself a great person," he hastened to add.
Jinzler grimaced in the dark. "Perhaps," he said.
"You are great," Estosh insisted. "Even if you do not feel it."
"Thank you," Jinzler said. "Tell me, what do you know about what happened?"
"I was not yet alive at that time, so I know only what I have been told," Estosh said. "I know that long before your people arrived the Vagaari came to our worlds, conquering and destroying and taking everything of value to themselves. They used us as laborers and craftspeople and slaves. They sent us into unsafe mines and dangerous mountains, and forced us to walk before them on warfields that we might die instead of them." He gave a shiver that shook the whole couch. "They wore us down until we were almost nothing."
"And then Outbound Flight came?"
Estosh sighed deeply, a sound like a whistle in a deep cave. "You cannot imagine it, Ambassador Jinzler," he said. "Suddenly they were there before us, weapons blazing from all directions, shattering our oppressors' vessels and destroying them."
Ahead, the churning hyperspace sky faded abruptly into starlines, and the starlines collapsed into a brilliant mass of stars. "Must be one of the navigation stops Aristocra Formbi mentioned," Jinzler commented, gazing out at the view. "Impressive, isn't it?"
"Indeed," Estosh said. "It is a shame the Chiss have no worlds here they would be willing to give us. To live here among such beauty—"
"Quiet," Jinzler cut him off, listening hard as a quiet warning bell went off in the back of his mind. Something was wrong...
Abruptly, it clicked. "The engines," he said, scrambling to his feet.
"You feel that? They're sputtering."
"Yes," Estosh breathed. "Yes, I do. What does it mean?"
"It means something's wrong with them," Jinzler said. "Or with the control lines. Or," he added grimly, "with the people in the command center."
Mara had just pulled off her boots in preparation for bed when the deck seemed to shiver beneath her feet.
She paused, stretching out to the Force, all her senses alert. "Luke?"
"Yes," he murmured, frowning in concentration. "Feels like something funny's going on with the engines."
"They've picked up a wobble," Mara said, flipping her legs up over the edge of the bed and rolling across to Luke's side, the side that had the comm panel. Stretching out, she jabbed the button. "Command center, this is Jedi Skywalker," she called. "What's going on?"
"There is nothing to be worried about, Jedi Skywalker," a Chiss voice answered. "There is a problem with the control lines to the aft end of the vessel."
"What kind of problem?"
"It is not your concern," the voice said tartly. "It is a small problem only, and we will deal with it. Stay in your quarters."
There was a click as the connection was cut from the other end. "I can hear the soothing tones of General Drask's voice in that order," Luke said, grabbing his shirt and starting to put it back on. "Sounds like he's been talking to his people about us."
"We going to check it out anyway?" Mara asked, rolling back to where she'd left her boots.
"Actually, I was thinking we might try a different approach," Luke said, finishing with his shirt and reaching for his lightsaber. "We've already seen one noisy diversion aboard this ship, and there's a lot of the same smell to this one."
"I agree," Mara said, picking up her own lightsaber. "He said the problem is aft. We go forward?"
"Right," Luke said. "You've been studying the ship. What's up there someone might be interested in?"
"All sorts of good stuff," she told him. "Forward navigational sensors, meteor defense systems, shield generators, some crew quarters, and bulk storage."
"Including food?"
"Right," Mara said. "Best of all, not very far back from the bow is the commander's glider."
"The hyperdrive-capable boat Fel told us about?"
"That's the one," Mara said. "Pick your target."
"Well, you can't expect him to make it easy on us," Luke said philosophically. "Here's the plan. You head for the bow along the main starboard corridor, watching for anyone or anything suspicious. I'll backtrack past the Geroon shuttle, see if there's any unusual activity in that area, then cross over to port side and check out the Imperials' transport. If everything looks okay, I'll head forward along the port-side corridor and meet you at the bow."
"Sounds good," Mara said. "See you there. And watch yourself."
"You, too."
The starboard corridor was largely deserted as Mara made her way forward, her senses alert for trouble. Most of the on-duty crewers were apparently aft, dealing with the engine trouble, while the rest were either snugged comfortably in their beds or engaged in other late-evening relaxations. The fact that the whole crew had obviously not been turned out implied that Drask did indeed consider the problem to be a minor one. Just the sort of low-key, not-quite-crisis-level event their mysterious data card thief might use for his next bit of sleight of hand.
She just wished she knew which of the possible targets he was after this time. Still, with a little luck, maybe she'd get a chance to ask him.
She was nearly to the bow when the corridor lights abruptly went out.
She froze in her tracks, pressing her back against the side wall in a pocket of shadow thrown by a misaimed emergency light. Wisps of sensation seemed to swirl around her as she stretched out with the Force, marking the presence of thoughts and emotions somewhere ahead. Someone was definitely moving around nearby. Maybe two someones.
Maybe even three.
She scowled to herself, peering into the darkness as she fought to push the hazy impressions into something solid. Between the Chiss and Geroons, the presence of so many unfamiliar minds surrounding her was severely limiting her ability to focus. There, ahead and to the right? Was that one of the beings she was sensing?