Thrawn

by Timothy Zahn

  “Fortunate that it was not the clan meetinghouse,” Thrawn said, sending a long gaze around the structure and the dozens of designs decorating it. “This structure is rich with the culture and history of the Afe clan.”

  “It is,” Joko said. “Few of the Empire would notice. Fewer still would appreciate.”

  “Perhaps. Did you confront the attackers?”

  “On three occasions our sentinels arrived at the incursion before the invaders slipped away,” Joko said. “On two of those occasions the sentinels were attacked.”

  “Were any injured or killed?”

  “Eight were injured,” Joko said. “None was killed.”

  “There is that, at least,” Thrawn said. “Let us hope this can be resolved before it reaches a stage that brings loss of life.” He finished his visual survey of the meetinghouse and returned his attention to Joko. “Let us now examine the other side of the blade. I am told members of the Afe clan have also crossed the border into the Hollenside Enclave.”

  “To sit idly without giving response is to encourage further attacks,” Joko said, his snout flattening. “Yes, we have crossed the border. Yes, we have inflicted impairment equal to our suffering. But never have we attacked the humans on their own soil.”

  “Did you not defend yourself against human guards?”

  “We did,” Joko said, his snout rounding back again and the tips of his fur going slightly orange. “But we shot only to distract, and to drive away. We did not shoot to injure or kill.”

  Which wasn’t what Mayor Benchel’s reports said, Eli remembered. According to him, several of the enclave’s hastily organized civilian guard force had been shot and wounded. And if Thrawn was right about Benchel not being part of the conspiracy, the mayor would have no reason to lie about that.

  Unless he had himself been lied to by one of the others. In that case, his report could be meaningless.

  Eli sighed to himself. Thrawn made it look so easy.

  “I would like to see where the first of these incursions occurred,” Thrawn said. “Will you send a guide with us in our shuttle to that location?”

  “There is no need for shuttle or guide,” Joko said, unwinding from his cross-legged seated position like hair tresses unbraiding. “We are already here. Will you accompany me?”

  “Of course,” Thrawn assured him, standing up. Eli, caught by surprise, scrambled to his feet. “It is fortunate that the incursions happened so near the clan meetinghouse.”

  “Fortune follows design,” Joko said, his snout widening. “I anticipated your request.” He spread his arms to encompass the entire structure. “The clan meetinghouse is, of course, mobile. Come; I will show you.”

  —

  “Here,” Joko said. He pauses at the edge of a field of stiff, desiccated grain stalks. “Here, when the grain was yet ripe and unharvested, is where humans first came onto Afe land.”

  Thrawn gazed across the field, wondering what the plants had looked like in full bloom. As it was, there was little left in the stalks for him to see.

  He looked back at the clan meetinghouse, a hundred meters behind them. Its shape and structure reinforced the patterns of words and pictures he’d seen on the interior wall.

  Patterns and connections. Ultimately, that was what it came down to. Patterns and connections in nature; patterns and connections in created things; patterns and connections in warfare.

  Patterns of the humans and human smugglers. Patterns of the Afes and Afe defense. Patterns of Nightswan.

  What were the patterns here?

  “Do airspeeders regularly cross this area?” he asked.

  “Not regularly,” Joko said. “Sometimes a craft travels from the human enclave to the Twi’lek settlement.”

  “Are there pictures of the ground from any of those flights?”

  “None that I know of,” Joko said. He touches the skin beside his eyes. “We have seen the land from the height of the eyes.” He points upward. “We need not see it from the height of the clouds.”

  “All information and points of view are useful,” Thrawn said. “Ensign Vanto, please calculate the most likely route.”

  “No need,” Joko said. He pulled a small flat box from his waist sash and keyed it on.

  A huge holomap of the area, vertical and twenty meters square, appeared ten meters in front of them. Joko adjusted the box, and the view widened out. “There are the two major cities for sky travel,” he said, pointing on the holomap. He keyed the box again, and the view zoomed in to where they were standing. “No likely path comes overhead where we now stand.”

  “Yes, I see,” Thrawn said. He studied the holomap, then the cropland, then the holomap again. The overall crop field itself would be in clear view from an airspeeder, though this particular area would be at the edge of observation.

  Limited isolation, offering limited anonymity. Perhaps something had been visible before the harvest that was not visible now. “Ensign, I will want a list of all who have traveled this route over the past year. Chief Joko, did any of the Afes note anything unusual about the crops from this field? Was any grain discarded due to disease or malformation?”

  “Some plants die in all fields,” Joko said. “This field has a history of such damage. Still, it is mostly fertile, and water is abundant, so it continues to be planted.”

  “Yes.” A group of stalks that were slightly shorter and thinner than the rest was visible, forming a corridor four meters wide that started at the edge of the field and traced a winding path toward the center. “Did the damage occur in this specific part of the field?”

  “Yes.” Joko gazes at him, his upper body hunched over as if to bring his eyes closer to the Imperial’s level. “The stunted stalks are a sign of improper development. You have a keen eye, Commander Thrawn.”

  “Does your map also include the locations of human attacks on Afe territory?”

  Joko adjusted the box. The focus of the map widened again. Another touch on the controls, and a dozen pulsing red dots appeared. All were north of the field where the Imperials now stood. “The most recent are colored the darkest red.”

  “Your counterattacks on the humans?”

  Four blue dots appeared, approximately opposite the four northernmost red dots. “We are long-suffering,” Joko said. “But we finally had to take a stand.”

  “Understandable.” Patterns; and this pattern was beginning to emerge. “You will be guarding some of your villages tonight. Where will your guards be stationed?”

  Joko draws himself up to his full height. “Why do you ask?”

  “I believe I can anticipate the human conspirators’ plan for tonight,” Thrawn said. “I wish to see your deployment so that I may adjust my own plans.”

  Joko is silent for a few seconds, then touches the control. Three yellow spots appear on the map, one at the northernmost red spot, the other two farther north. “Their boldness takes them ever closer to our main cities,” he said. “We will guard these villages in anticipation. We will also hold guards in reserve to pursue them back to their lair and entrap them.”

  “Yes.” The deployment fit the pattern that the meetinghouse artwork had indicated. It was a pattern the conspirators had also likely learned over the many years the two species had lived side by side. “I offer two suggestions. First: Do not hold guards for pursuit. Deploy them solely in protection of your villages.”

  “You deny us the right of response?”

  “I believe your attackers hope to lure you across the border so as to claim you invaded the enclave,” Thrawn said. “By remaining on your side, you will deny them that weapon.”

  “Yet the evidence will demonstrate their attack came first,” Joko said. “We have no intent of causing injury. Our pursuit would be solely to identify the invaders.”

  “Nevertheless, I still caution restraint.”

  “For how long, Commander Thrawn?” Joko’s fur tips turn briefly orange. “How long would you have us cower before an enemy?”

&
nbsp; “It will end tonight.”

  Joko’s eyes flicked to Vanto, then to each of the five escorting stormtroopers, then back to Thrawn. “Tonight.”

  “Tonight. In the meantime, I offer you my escort to deploy as you wish in defense of your villages. Be advised that their blasters will be set on stun. I will not kill anyone on either side.”

  “But some of the humans are criminals.”

  “When their guilt has been established, they will face Imperial justice,” Thrawn said. “Until then, there will be no killing.”

  “Imperial justice.” Joko’s voice and body stance hold contempt. “Very well, Commander Thrawn. I accept your word. For now. You will return to your ship to ponder?”

  “No,” Thrawn said. “Ensign Vanto and I will spend the night here.”

  “Here on our world?”

  “Here in this very spot,” Thrawn said. “Will you leave the meeting structure in its current place for our use?”

  “Why?”

  “I wish to observe the crops in the moonlight,” Thrawn said. “Sometimes the altered spectrum offers clues.”

  “You will find no clues in that fashion,” Joko said. “But I will leave the structure. Do as you will.”

  “Thank you,” Thrawn said. “One final request. I know that many of your people live in this district. I request that they leave for tonight.”

  “All of them?”

  “All of them,” Thrawn confirmed. “They may move up into the hills or across the river. But all must leave this area.”

  “But it will be disruption,” Joko said. “They will need shelter and provisions. Many are the families and young children that must travel.”

  “The move will be only for this single night,” Thrawn said. “Surely the people of the Afe clan can endure a night of hardship in return for the reclamation of their land.”

  “You can promise so quick a resolution?”

  “I promise Imperial justice,” Thrawn said. “Move your people. I will contact you when it is safe for them to return.”

  Five minutes later the stormtroopers and the Afes departed, the first in the Thunder Wasp’s shuttle, the second in the clan’s ancient landspeeders.

  “Ensign?” Thrawn invited.

  “You’re expecting the conspirators to come here tonight,” Vanto said. “Probably in force.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they expect you to rule in favor of the Afes and thereby block their access to the ore,” Vanto said. “This may be their last shot, and they’ll want to take full advantage of it.”

  “Very good,” Thrawn said. Vanto’s pathway was slightly flawed, but his final conclusion was correct. “If they’ve had experience with Imperial justice, they won’t expect an overly quick ruling. But a long investigation will certainly focus attention on this region and prevent them from returning without being observed.”

  “Ah,” Vanto said, his earlier confidence slightly subdued. “I see.”

  “But your conclusion regarding the raid is still valid,” Thrawn said. “What do you conclude from the stunted plants?”

  “Heavy-metal poisoning,” Vanto said, his confidence returning. “Which further implies that the ore is near the surface. Odd that no one spotted it before.”

  “The planet’s metallurgical needs are satisfied from other, more extensive mines,” Thrawn said. “A vein this size may not be worth developing.”

  “Unless you’re a group of ten or twenty that sees easy credits.”

  “Yes. Did you note the pattern in the humans’ raids?”

  “They’re moving farther and farther northward,” Vanto said. “Moving toward the larger population centers. I assume they’re trying to provoke a stronger reaction from the Afes.”

  “Yes,” Thrawn said. “They recognize that the usual Cyphari response to such attacks is to defend the last site attacked, plus the next two along the anticipated path. The conspirators’ hope is twofold: to draw attention farther away from this spot so their mining operation remains undetected, and to induce an Afe attack that will result in human deaths.”

  “They want the Afes to kill someone? Just so they’ll have a better case to present to Coruscant?”

  “Partly,” Thrawn said. “More significant is the fact that the Afe ethos will cause them to recoil in shame and guilt, which will disadvantage them in future negotiations.”

  “Which is why you advised Joko to stay on this side of the border,” Vanto said, nodding. “Even if they’re not trying to kill, they might be manipulated into doing so. You got all that from the artwork in the meetinghouse?”

  “I did.”

  “I wish you could teach me how to do that,” Vanto said ruefully. “If we’re expecting company, shouldn’t we bring down a few more navy troopers or stormtroopers?”

  “The two of us will be sufficient,” Thrawn said. “They won’t expect trouble.”

  Vanto smiled in grim anticipation. “No,” he agreed. “I daresay they won’t.”

  There are many stories and myths about the Chiss. Some are accurate; others have been eroded by the twin forces of distance and time.

  But one fact has always remained constant: The Chiss must be approached from a position of strength and respect. One must have strength, for the Chiss will deal only with those capable of keeping their promises. One must have respect, for the Chiss must believe that those promises will be kept.

  There will be many cultural differences, and a warrior dealing with the Chiss must be wary of them. But never make the mistake of believing forbearance equates to acceptance, or that all positions are equally valid. There are things in the universe that are simply and purely evil. A warrior does not seek to understand them, or to compromise with them. He seeks only to obliterate them.

  —

  There were three open-topped landspeeders’ worth, nine men and three women in all. Eli and Thrawn watched through the meetinghouse doorway as the intruders drove carefully into the lane of damaged plants, forcing their way over and through the damaged stalks. One at a time the vehicles stopped, spacing themselves along the corridor at twenty-meter intervals. The raiders climbed out, scattered along the lane, and got to work.

  Eli had hoped that all three of the conspirators Thrawn had identified earlier at the meeting would be present. It would certainly make it easier to file charges if they were caught in the act. But only the nervous one, Tanoo, was present.

  Still, the fact that the landspeeders had driven straight into the field, apparently not caring that they were leaving visible damage on the remaining stalks, indicated that Thrawn had been correct in his conclusion that this would be the last raid for a while. The further implication was that everyone who wasn’t working the diversionary raids was probably here.

  And with Thrawn’s stormtroopers backing up the Afes, the raiders weren’t going to have the quick and easy smash-and-run they were expecting.

  In fact, there was a good chance the whole bunch of them would end up captured. If Eli and Thrawn could take this group as well, the Imperials might indeed roll up the whole conspiracy tonight.

  There would certainly be no lack of evidence. Each of the raiders had two long cylindrical bags attached to his or her waist, about fifteen centimeters in diameter, trailing on the ground. They walked steadily along their assigned sections of the ore vein, digging into the soil with small trowels and shoveling their prizes into the bags.

  “Interesting,” Thrawn murmured. “Tanoo isn’t digging.”

  Eli focused his electrobinoculars. Thrawn was right. Tanoo was going back and forth among the diggers, testing the material they were digging up with a handheld sensor. “Checking the quality of ore?” he suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Thrawn said, his voice thoughtful. “Locate his full record. I want a list of his areas of knowledge and expertise.”

  “Yes, sir.” Eli lowered his electrobinoculars and pulled out his datapad. They’d already looked at the summary profiles of the three known conspirators, which had list
ed Tanoo as a crop geneticist. The record came up, and Eli skimmed it…

  He frowned as something caught his eye. “His secondary schooling was in organic chemistry.”

  “Was he ever arrested or charged with a crime?”

  “Nothing about that here,” Eli said. A thought struck him, and he keyed a new search. “No arrests for Tanoo himself, but his older brother was arrested for…” He trailed off, his throat tightening as he read the rest of the entry. “His older brother was arrested for possession of spice,” he said. “Specifically, a rare variety called scarn that forms under grain fields.”

  Thrawn turned his glowing red eyes toward him. “Grain fields such as this one?”

  “Yes,” Eli said, the taste of bile in the back of his mouth. Spice, in any of its dozens of varieties, was a plague on the galaxy: a horribly addicting drug that its victims would lie, steal, assault, and murder for. “This stuff is more a pre-spice compound, actually. It looks like you have to do some refining and chemical manipulation to make it full-fledged scarn.”

  “Show me the method.”

  Eli pulled up the file and handed over his datapad. For a few minutes Thrawn read in silence. Then he handed back the datapad and pulled out his comlink. “This is Commander Thrawn,” he said softly. “Are the shuttles and stormtroopers I ordered ready to fly? Good. Send them to this location for prisoner retrieval. Also add Lieutenant Gimm to the TIE escort. Launch when ready.” He got an acknowledgment and returned the comlink to his belt.

  Eli did a quick run through the numbers. Normally, prep and travel time would mean the shuttles would show up in forty minutes. Thrawn’s foresight in having them ready to go should cut that in half. “How many stormtroopers are coming?”

  “Twenty,” Thrawn said. “I didn’t know how large the conspiracy was when I gave the orders.”

  “Better to err on the side of caution,” Eli agreed. And twenty stormtroopers was erring well on the side of caution. “Is Lieutenant Gimm one of the new TIE pilots?”

  “Yes,” Thrawn said. “He’s also the best we currently have.”