Hand of Thrawn I: Specter of the Past by Timothy Zahn

Author:Timothy Zahn
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction - Space Opera, Fiction - Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Space Opera, Star Wars fiction, Science Fiction - Star Wars, Interplanetary voyages, Fiction, Princess (Fictitious character), Space warfare, Science Fiction - General, General, Science fiction, Luke (Fictitious character), Skywalker, Leia
ISBN: 9780553298048
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1998-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

12

The west wall of the Resinem Entertainment Complex was dirty and salt-encrusted,

discolored with age and pitted by the debris from the explosion fifteen years earlier that

had leveled the rival gambling hall down the street. From the far side of the fifty-meter

depression that marked the explosion’s center the Resinem’s west wall was said to be

rather attractive, the random bits of damage weaving themselves into intriguing visual

patterns, particularly in the shifting glow of a Borcorash sunset.

But sunset was long past, and Shada wasn’t on the far side of the pit, anyway. She was

three-quarters of the way up the west wall, digging her climbing hooks carefully into the

various cracks and cavities; and from this perspective, all she could tell was that the

wall was dirty and not much fun. Join a smuggling group, she thought darkly for about the

fifth time since beginning her climb. Visit a side of the galaxy the tourists never see.

It wasn’t fun, but it was necessary. Very soon now Mazzic and Griv would be escorted onto

the Resinem’s ultra-private top floor for a meeting with a smooth-talking Kubaz who

represented a shadowy Hutt crime cartel. Griv was carrying a small case full of ryll, the

Kubaz would be carrying a similarly sized case full of Sormahil fire gems, and in theory

the gathering would break up with a simple and mutually profitable exchange.

In theory.

Somewhere in the distance off to her right an airspeeder swung around in preparation for

landing; and as its landing lights sent a brief splash of pale illumination across the

wall in front of her, Shada felt a fresh surge of depression sweep through her. She hadn’t

been home to Emberlene for over twelve years now, not since Mazzic had hired her on as his

bodyguard, but the grime and deterioration of this wall had brought all those memories

back as if it had been yesterday. Memories of growing up amid the ruins of what had once

been great cities. Memories of the death that had struck so often around hen death by

disease, by malnutrition, by violence, by hopelessness. Memories of pervasive hunger, of

eking out an existence by the vermin she was able to catch and kill, and on her share of

the meager foodstuffs that came in from what was left of the countryside’s arable land.

And on the outworld supplies that finally began coming in. Supplies not donated by caring

offworlders or a generous Republic, but earned by the blood and sweat and lives of the

Mistryl shadow guards.

They were the elite of what remained of Emberlene society, commissioned personally in

their crusade by the Eleven Elders of the People; and from her earliest childhood Shada

had wanted with all her heart to be one of them. The Mistryl roamed the starlanes, a

sisterhood of exquisitely trained warrior women, hiring out their services and combat

skills to the oppressed and powerless of the galaxy and receiving in exchange the money

vital for keeping the remnants of their devastated world alive.

A world whose people no one had ever even noticed, let alone cared about. Unlike, say,

Caamas.

With an effort, she choked down the ripple of resentment at all the attention Caamas had

been getting the past couple of weeks.

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