by Timothy Zahn
“Interesting,” Thrawn said. “I had of course noted that the Thunder Wasp had been placed at the lowest priority. I assumed the repair ranking was based on which ships needed to be returned to patrol duty most quickly.”
“You were half right,” Arihnda said. “Just substitute which captains they want back on duty—and which one they don’t—and you’ll have the complete picture.”
“I see,” Thrawn murmured. “Have you an ally who can alter that?”
“I have some contacts,” Arihnda said, running quickly through the list of senators and ministers she’d talked to while working with Higher Skies. Without knowing who was behind the vendetta against Thrawn, there was no way to guess which of them might be able to intervene on his behalf. “None of them is really an ally.”
He was silent another moment. “Tell me, who does your high government official fear?”
“I don’t know that he fears anyone.”
“Then who does he hate? All who hold positions of power fear or hate someone. Or something.”
Arihnda thought back on Ghadi’s rantings. Now that Thrawn mentioned it…“There is someone he hates, yes,” she said.
“So you have an enemy, and a threat to that enemy,” Thrawn said. “That gives you two possible vectors of attack. One is to turn the threat into an ally, then use him against your enemy. The other—” He paused and cocked his head to the side. “Is to use the threat as a lever against your enemy in order to make him into your ally.”
“I see,” Arihnda said slowly, her mind spinning. When he put it that way…“Any recommendation as to which approach would be best?”
“Only you can decide that,” Thrawn said. “You must consider which weapons and levers you have available, and which approach offers the best chance of success.” He lifted a warning finger. “But remember that in neither case is your new ally likely to be your friend. His association with you will be based solely on fear or need. Fear of what you can do to him, or a need for what you can provide him. If either of those forces loses its value, so does your position.”
“Understood,” Arihnda said. “Thank you, Commander. I think I know what to do now.”
“One other thing.” Thrawn’s half-hidden eyes seemed to burn into hers. “It may be that your advocacy group will indeed prove to be more than you know. If you are to have Colonel Yularen’s ultimate support and protection, you may need to turn your back on your colleagues. Are you prepared to do that?”
Arihnda smiled bitterly. Her colleagues. Driller, her boss. Juahir, her roommate. The only two people on Coruscant she knew well. The only people on this planet she’d ever called friends. “Absolutely,” she said.
—
The Higher Skies office was deserted when Arihnda arrived an hour later. Nor was anyone likely to drop by. Driller knew she’d been off to see Ottlis, and would undoubtedly have relayed that information to Juahir. Arihnda’s failure to return to their apartment would probably be seen as evidence that she and Ghadi’s bodyguard had progressed from combat sparring to other forms of physical activity.
A year ago, doing something so blatant or obvious would have embarrassed her. Now she barely noticed, let alone cared.
All she cared about was that she now had all night to work without fear of interruption.
It was just past dawn when she finally made the call.
“This had better be important,” Ghadi growled. “And I mean damn important. I’m this close to having Ottlis whipped for waking me up, and you don’t even want to know what I want to do to you.”
“It’s important,” Arihnda assured him. “You were right—Higher Skies is keeping watch on many important people. I’ve found the files.”
“Of course I was right,” Ghadi said blackly. “Any reason this revelation couldn’t have waited until later?”
“It probably could have,” Arihnda conceded. “But I thought you’d want to hear as soon as possible about the Tarkin file.”
There was a brief silence. “They have a file on Tarkin?” he asked, the grumpiness abruptly gone. “What’s in it?”
“I don’t know,” Arihnda said. “This one’s under a different encryption than everything else I’ve found. But if it’s like the ones I’ve been able to read, it probably has a lot of secrets in it. Things Tarkin wouldn’t want anyone else knowing about.”
“Perfect,” Ghadi said. “Yes. I absolutely want those files.”
“I thought you would,” Arihnda said. “I can collate them with the other files I’ve been able to find. But I wanted to make sure you wanted this one.”
“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “You have the weapon I need to take down Tarkin, and you want to know if I want it? Get it on a data card and bring it to my office. Now.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Arihnda said. “As I said, though, at the moment it’s unreadable. If you give me time, I may be able to decrypt it.”
“Just bring it to me,” Ghadi growled. “I’ll decrypt it. Let’s see how high and mighty Grand Moff Tarkin is when I’m shoving his dirty little secrets down his throat.”
“Very well, Your Excellency,” Arihnda said. “Do you also want the other information? Or do you want to wait until I’ve decrypted it?”
“I’ll take anything you’ve found on any of the other moffs,” he said. “You can hold off on anything else.” He muttered something unintelligible under his breath. “Tarkin.”
“I’ll bring this over at once, then,” Arihnda said. “Who in your office shall I give the data card to?”
“Mm—good point,” Ghadi said. “Yes, you’d better bring it directly to me here.” He gave her a Whitehawk Tower address. “Ottlis will meet you at the door and take the data card. Give it to him, and only to him.”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Arihnda said. “I’ll leave at once.” She keyed off the comm.
It was done.
Or at least, half of it was done.
But she had time. She had plenty of time.
There are three ways to take down a wild tusklan.
The average hunter takes a large-bore weapon with which to shoot the animal. When it works, the method is quick and efficient. But if the first shot fails to hit a vital organ, the tusklan may be upon its attacker before a second shot can be aimed and fired.
The wise hunter takes a smaller-bore weapon. The method is less likely to produce a first-shot kill, but the second, third, or fourth shot may succeed. However if the bore is too small, none of the shots will penetrate to vital points, and the tusklan will again triumph over its attacker.
The subtle hunter takes no visible weapon at all. He instead induces a thousand stingflies to attack the tusklan from all sides. The method is slow, and destructive of the pelt. But in the end, the tusklan is dead.
And it dies never knowing where the attack came from.
—
Eli sighed as he looked at the navigational repeater display in Thrawn’s office. Another day, another crisis.
Another small-time, minor-world, petty-plated crisis.
“So what’s this one about, sir?” he asked.
“It appears to be a land dispute, Ensign,” Thrawn said.
Eli clenched his teeth. Ensign. Thrawn had promised that he would try to get him the promotion both agreed was long overdue. So far, it hadn’t happened.
And only Eli knew why.
He thought about that brief and long-ago meeting with Moff Ghadi’s flunky Culper. He thought about it a lot. At the time, he’d dismissed Culper’s threat to keep him at the bottom of the navy’s officer corps as empty hyperbole designed to scare him.
But as the old saying said, it wasn’t a bluff if you had the cards. Moff Ghadi clearly had the cards.
And for all of Thrawn’s military cleverness, he had no idea how to navigate Coruscant politics.
“On one side is the Afe clan of the native Cyphari,” Thrawn continued. “On the other side is a group of human colonists in an enclave pressing up against Afe territory. The colonis
ts claim the Afes have been raiding their border settlements, and demand concessions and a safety buffer zone that would together take nearly half the Afes’ land and force them to move into territories controlled by their fellow Cyphari. The Afes claim they have lived on that land for centuries, and state their attacks are in retaliation against trespassing and border raids from the humans.”
Eli suppressed another sigh. “And we are here why?”
“Because I requested the assignment,” Thrawn said. “With the assistance and support of Colonel Yularen.”
“I see,” Eli murmured. And with the further backing of the Emperor?
Possibly. Thrawn’s informal connection to Yularen wasn’t something that normally happened between navy officers and ISB, and Eli had long suspected the Emperor’s silent hand in the relationship. Certainly it made sense: Yularen could smooth Thrawn’s path through the High Command’s datawork and sheer inertia, while Thrawn in turn often spotted details that were useful to Yularen’s investigations, particularly with the whole Nightswan puzzle.
But the arrangement, and the perks that went with it, hadn’t gone unnoticed by others in the navy. Eli had caught the occasional odd look from other officers in passing, and formal communications with the Thunder Wasp sometimes carried undertones of resentment or envy.
Thrawn, naturally, didn’t seem to notice anything except the perks.
“Here,” Thrawn said, swiveling around his desk display. “Tell me what you see.”
Eli leaned closer. It was a summary of the planet’s shipping records for the past six months, displayed side by side with a breakdown of cargo types. He ran his eye down them, his brain automatically sorting, merging, and analyzing…
He smiled tightly. “Shellfish.”
“Precisely,” Thrawn said. “The volume of shellfish exports has nearly doubled in the past four months.”
“About the time the land dispute began?”
“The dispute has been ramping up for approximately twice that long,” Thrawn said. “But the recent escalation in cross-border incidents does date from that point. The petition to Coruscant dates from one month afterward.”
“The humans have some precious metals they want to smuggle,” Eli said slowly, working out the logic. “Possibly because they discovered a new vein eight months ago.” He looked sharply at Thrawn. “Beneath the Afes’ territory?”
“That’s the most likely reason for the colonists’ sudden demand for Afe land.”
“So they putter around with their own smuggling efforts for a while,” Eli continued. “Then someone calls in Nightswan. He shows them how to do it properly, they start shoving out their backlog inside the shellfish, and decide they want better access to the vein.” He shook his head. “Kind of sloppy. You’d think someone as clever as Nightswan could have come up with a new technique instead of repeating himself.”
“Come now,” Thrawn said, mildly chiding. “Don’t you recognize an invitation when you see one?”
Eli looked at the shipping list again. “Pretty daring,” he said. “Also pretty stupid. He just barely won the last round. You’d think he’d have learned to quit while he was ahead.”
“Ah, but did he win the last round?” Thrawn countered. “We agree he won at Umbara, but we really don’t know how many other confrontations he and I may have had over the past few months. Only those operations that he signs, as it were, do we know to attribute to him.”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“I have,” Thrawn said, his voice going dark and thoughtful. “Perhaps you hadn’t noticed, but there appears to be a growing number of these incidents around the Empire. There’s been an increase in smuggling activity, which robs Coruscant of tariff money. Thefts of metals like doonium have also increased, at the very time the Empire is attempting to gather together as much of those resources as possible. There have been disputes like this one, sometimes between peoples on a single world, sometimes between neighboring systems, all of which distract attention and drain military resources. Even more disturbing, there are a growing number of incidents of unrest or open revolt.”
“And you think Nightswan is behind them?”
“All of them?” Thrawn shook his head. “No. At the moment the turmoil is unorganized. Nightswan is not a shadowy mirror image of the Emperor, guiding a growing army of disaffection. But I likewise have no doubt that Nightswan has had a hand in some of the incidents. In many of those, I suspect, he achieved his intended goal.”
“Whatever that goal happened to be,” Eli mused. “And now, he’s invited us to this one. I’m glad we could fit him into our schedule.”
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “Let us see what he has arranged for us this time.”
—
“I really don’t understand the purpose of this meeting, Commander,” Mayor Pord Benchel said. His expression is tense, the muscles in his throat equally tight. His voice holds resentment and frustration. “You’ve asked nothing that wasn’t in our reports and sworn statements to Coruscant. Have you even read them?”
“I have,” Thrawn said. “The purpose of this meeting is so that I may meet you in person. You, and the rest of the dispute committee.”
“It’s not a dispute committee,” Lenora Scath put in. Her expression holds anger, as does her voice. “It’s a committee for justice. We’re the ones who’ve been attacked, Commander, not the Cyphari.”
“The reports suggest that is a matter of dispute,” Thrawn said. “Hence, the term I have assigned you.”
“Not our reports,” Brigte Polcery retorted. Her expression and voice also hold anger. “Not any report that anyone in his right mind could believe.”
“Are you suggesting I am not in my right mind?” Thrawn asked mildly.
“No, of course not,” Polcery said hastily. Her anger decreases, replaced by caution. “I’m just saying you can’t trust the Cyphari to tell the truth. That clan thing of theirs means everyone always just repeats what the clan leader says.”
“I see,” Thrawn said. “Do you agree, Mr. Tanoo?”
“Excuse me?” Clay Tanoo asked. His body stance suggests surprise and nervousness.
“I asked if you agreed that Cyphari statements cannot be trusted.”
“Oh.” Tanoo looked at the others. “Yes, of course. The clan thing. You know?”
“I have been told,” Thrawn said. “By reliable sources.” Their expressions shift. Benchel and Scath wonder if the statement is an insult. Polcery and Tanoo are certain that it is. Some of the other seventy-three people gathered in the assembly room show similar emotions. Most are merely nervous or frightened. Those in the rear of the room are possibly too far away to hear the testimony. The sides of the room are covered with banners depicting their life on Cyphar. The designs and patterns speak of the hardship and determination of their past, and of their hope for their future. Woven within those patterns are their closeness of family and distrust of outside authority. “Thank you. You may all return to your other activities.”
“Thank you, sir,” Benchel said. “May we ask what decision you’ve come to?”
“I have hardly had time to make a decision, Mayor Benchel. My next task is to view directly the disputed territory.”
“I’d advise against that, Commander,” Polcery said. “The Cyphari have threatened to attack anyone who comes onto their land without permission.”
“So I have heard,” Thrawn said. “Fortunately, I have already received Afe Chief Joko’s invitation.”
The reactions of expression and body stance are brief. But they are sufficient.
“Well, good luck to you,” Benchel said. “I’d advise you to take a guard along anyway.”
Three minutes later, the shuttle lifted into the air and flew off across the landscape. “Your conclusions, Ensign Vanto?” Thrawn invited.
“Not entirely certain, sir,” Vanto said thoughtfully. “Mayor Benchel is an obvious choice—he’s loud and passionate and did most of the talking. But I’m thinking he ma
y be a little too loud.”
“And the others?”
“I’d say Scath and Polcery. Maybe Tanoo, but he seems a little too slow and simpleminded. I can’t see Nightswan trusting him with big secrets.”
“You forget that the conspiracy was already in place when Nightswan was brought in,” Thrawn said. “He may not have had any choice as to participants. Anyone else?”
“I didn’t see anything from the other ten committee members. As far as I could tell, they were just regular colonists who’d been caught up in events, or possibly manipulated into believing what the others told them. Ditto for the onlookers.”
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “My congratulations, Ensign. Your skills have improved markedly.”
“Thank you, sir,” Vanto said drily. “Which ones did I miss?”
“None,” Thrawn said. “Scath, Polcery, and Tanoo are indeed involved in the conspiracy. Mayor Benchel, as you have already surmised, is one of the duped. Have you any further thoughts or conclusions?”
“Not yet, sir,” Vanto said.
“There is yet time,” Thrawn assured him. “Study further. We will speak again after we have met with Chief Joko.”
—
Eli had done a quick study of the Cyphari during the Thunder Wasp’s voyage, and the closest image he’d been able to come up with for the natives’ appearance was large stick insects with Rodian snouts and neat rows of short red fur.
Which, in real life, turned out to be exactly what they looked like.
“I know not what to tell you, Commander Thrawn,” Chief Joko said, his voice simultaneously grating, whiny, and melodious. It was an interesting combination, one Eli hadn’t run into before. “The reports of my clansfolk are true and accurate. The humans from the Hollenside Enclave have crossed the border on many occasions, stealing and mistreating our crops and attacking or burning our farm structures.” He reached a long arm behind him and tapped the inner surface of the conical meetinghouse he had invited the Imperials into. “Once, a home was also burned.”
