by Star Wars
Faro smiled. She saw where he was going now.
“At that moment, Commodore,” Thrawn continued, “you will launch the Defenders and two squadrons of TIE fighters in a Marg Sabl maneuver. As they reach their outward apsis and begin to close on the enemy, Lieutenant Pyrondi, you will deliver full salvos of turbolaser fire to their ship.”
He looked at Ronan, a small smile on his lips. “Let us see how well they can stand against an Imperial Star Destroyer.”
* * *
—
Of the eight to ten words Admiral Ar’alani spat out, Eli only knew three.
The gist, however, was pretty clear.
Two weeks’ worth of work and tens of thousands of light-years’ worth of travel, all of it down the drain.
She turned to Eli, her eyes seeming to glow extra hot, and he braced himself for the coming blast. But she merely held the glare a fraction of a second and then turned to the command console. “Full activation,” she ordered. “All systems. I want weapons up in fifteen seconds.”
Eli felt his eyes widen. Fifteen seconds? He’d been on Imperial warships coming from dead cold to full combat readiness, and the process had never taken less than nine or ten minutes.
But to his amazement, the Chiss pulled it off. Status grids that had been showing perhaps two or three ACTIVE lights amid a sea of STANDBYs and INACTIVEs changed to full ACTIVE as if a wave of colored paint had been thrown over them. Displays that had been blank lit up with data and graphics showing weapons status and tactical data. Officers and crew who’d been sitting quiet and unmoving began murmuring rapid commands into headsets and keying spin-up and targeting orders on their boards.
And with two of Ar’alani’s fifteen seconds to spare, the Steadfast was poised for battle.
“Plasma spheres: Full portside salvo,” the admiral ordered. “Fire.”
The distant thud from the portside capacitors barked, half heard, half felt through the bridge, and the brilliant yellow globes arrowed away from the Steadfast’s launchers.
The Grysk warship reacted instantly, a barrage of laser blasts erupting from its point defenses.
But plasma spheres weren’t solid objects that could be destroyed so easily. The lasers flicked uselessly through their surfaces, creating momentary distortions before their self-focusing electromagnetic fields could restore their proper shape. There was a flash from the Grysk, a brief flicker of hazy white glow around it—
“Electrostatic barrier,” someone called sharply.
Eli winced. And those barriers could stop plasma spheres.
Sure enough, the spheres reached the glow and burst like soap bubbles, expending their energy and ionization bursts just short of the warship’s hull. The Grysk’s lasers again lanced out, this time targeting the Steadfast, and the low hum from the ship’s deflectors rose into a screech.
“Roll ship,” Ar’alani ordered. If she was worried that the deflectors might overload, it didn’t show in her voice. “Starboard spectrum lasers: Full salvo on the electrostatic generators. Sensors will feed you the node locations. Follow with starboard plasma sphere salvo. Prepare Breachers in case we get an opening.”
The Steadfast was still in mid-roll, and the Grysk warship’s lasers were still trying to carve open its deflectors, when the Chimaera joined the battle.
The first attack was a full turbolaser volley, multiple green bolts sweeping across the Grysk warship’s surface. “Damage?” Ar’alani called.
“None detected,” Tanik called from the sensor station, and Eli could hear a hint of contempt in his voice. “They fired too soon. At that distance, the barrier diffuses the blasts enough to make them useless.”
“An odd mistake,” Ar’alani murmured, just loudly enough for Eli to hear. “Perhaps Thrawn is no longer in command.”
“He’s in command, all right, Admiral,” Eli assured her. “And that wasn’t a mistake. The volley wasn’t intended to cause damage. He just wanted to draw their attention to the Chimaera for a few seconds.”
“To draw their attention from us?”
“No.” Eli pointed to the tactical display, and the barely seen specks now converging on the Grysk. “From his TIE fighters.”
Ar’alani hissed between her teeth. “Belay starboard lasers,” she called. “Lieutenant Vanto, are the Chimaera’s sensors good enough to have spotted the electrostatic loci?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Eli said. “And I know Grand Admiral Thrawn is good enough to have noted the effects of our attack.”
“Let’s see if that’s the case,” Ar’alani said. “Belay plasma spheres. Prepare Breachers.”
A second later the Grysk seemed to suddenly notice the fighters closing in on it. A dozen more lasers blazed out, slashing frantically at the attackers.
But it was too little too late. Two of the lasers found their targets, but the attack was being led by Thrawn’s TIE Defenders and their shields were more than adequate to shrug off the glancing attacks. Before the laser gunners could adjust their aim the TIEs were on them, pouring fire into the electrostatic generator nodes and the point-defense lasers themselves. The TIEs finished their strafing run and scattered away as the hazy white glow flickered and then disappeared—
“Over to us,” Ar’alani said matter-of-factly. “Breachers: Laser sites, full salvo. Fire.”
The Steadfast jerked as the six missiles blasted out of their tubes. Eli turned to the tactical, holding his breath as the Breachers burned toward the warship. On the enemy’s flank, the Chimaera was moving forward toward the common enemy and was once again raking the warship’s hull with fire.
But now, with the diminished distance and the loss of the electrostatic barrier, the turbolasers were doing real damage. More Grysk lasers lanced out, but the sheer number of weapons available to them had been diminished by the combined Chiss and Imperial attack. The TIEs reached another apsis and circled around, staying clear of the Steadfast’s and Chimaera’s weapons and watching for another opening.
Two of the Breachers disintegrated under enemy fire, but the other four made it through. They slammed into the hull and exploded, bursting into sticky acid globs that began eating through the metal and ceramic and leaving blackened pits that would even more easily absorb the energy of the self-tuning Chiss spectrum lasers.
“Enemy hyperdrive spinning up,” someone called in warning. “Looks like they’ve had enough.”
“Too bad,” Ar’alani said. “If we pull around, can we get in position to target it before they can escape?”
“No need,” Eli said, pointing at the tactical. “The TIEs are on it.”
“I see them,” Ar’alani said. “Cease fire, all weapons. Let’s give the Imperials a clear shot.”
One shot was all they needed. Again led by the shield-equipped Defenders, the fighters swooped across the rear of the warship’s hull, spitting laserfire at the hyperdrive and thrusters. The fighters disappeared from the Steadfast’s sight around the edge of the Grysk’s hull…
“Hyperdrive disabled,” came the confirmation. “Thrusters down to eighty-seven percent.”
“Very good,” Ar’alani said. “Move closer and target remaining weapons ports with plasma spheres. Lieutenant Vanto, contact the Chimaera and suggest to Admiral Thrawn that he switch to ion cannons. The more intact it is when we capture it, the more we’ll be able to learn.”
Apparently, the Grysk commander agreed with her assessment. Two seconds later, with the Steadfast’s last salvo of plasma spheres already on the way, the warship exploded.
The bridge fell silent. For once, even Ar’alani didn’t seem to have anything to say.
The ping from the comm station in front of Eli startled him out of his paralysis. He glanced at the message—“Admiral?” he said tentatively. “Admiral Thrawn sends his greetings, and would be honored if you’d join him aboard the Chimaera for a consultation.�
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“Would be?” Ar’alani said, again turning those burning eyes on Eli. “Thank him for his invitation, Lieutenant, and inform him that I’ll be over at my convenience.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Eli said. Clearly, she was still angry at Thrawn for barging into the Chiss operation. Apparently, her response was to make him wait.
In the Empire, no one but the Emperor himself would dare suggest that their time was more valuable than a grand admiral’s. But Ar’alani wasn’t an Imperial. She was a Chiss, and she was angry.
Fly on the wall. The old adage flicked briefly through Eli’s mind before common sense intervened. The upcoming meeting between the two admirals was likely to be memorable, and not in a remotely pleasant way. Better to stay here safely out of the confrontation’s blast radius.
“Secure to Second Preparedness,” Ar’alani continued. “I want a survey team to the wreckage immediately. Every piece of debris is to be collected, sifted, and analyzed.”
She leveled a finger at Eli. “And while they do that, Lieutenant Vanto, you will have my shuttle prepared. You and I are going to go and have a talk with your former commander.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Eli said, suppressing a sigh. Be careful what you wish for, the other old adage whispered.
Even when you weren’t at all wishing for it.
* * *
—
Despite Ar’alani’s implied threat of foot-dragging, she actually didn’t linger aboard the Steadfast for long. Eli had barely received confirmation that the shuttle was prepped and crewed when the admiral finished her string of commands to the bridge officers and ordered him to accompany her to the hangar bay.
It was with decidedly mixed feelings that Eli watched the Chimaera growing steadily to fill the shuttle’s viewport. Back in his cadet days, he’d been thrown together with Thrawn completely against his will, and for a long time he’d resented the disruption in his life. Gradually that attitude had changed, largely keeping pace with how his view of Thrawn had changed from obstruction to interesting anomaly to the best thing that could have happened to Eli’s own career. Before Thrawn offered this abrupt change in the course of Eli’s life, Eli had dared to see his commander as almost a friend.
What he didn’t know—what he’d never known—was how Thrawn saw him.
Did Thrawn have friends? Eli or anyone else? Had he had friends when he was growing up in the Chiss Ascendancy, or had he always been different, the oddness of his mind leaving his young peers bewildered or resentful?
It wasn’t just a general Chiss quality. Admiral Ar’alani was an excellent commander, and smart enough in her own way, but there was a spark that Thrawn had that she didn’t. She didn’t have the same knack for observing and analyzing the universe around her, nor did any of the others Eli had met aboard the Steadfast.
How unique was Thrawn?
It wasn’t something Eli needed to know. It wasn’t something he deserved to know. But it was something he very much wanted to know.
Though he probably never would.
Thrawn was waiting for them in the hangar bay, a helmet tucked under one arm, his white uniform partially concealed by an armored chest plate. Standing in watchful flanking positions on either side were four death troopers, their black armor somehow looking extra ominous in the hangar bay’s lowered light. “Admiral Ar’alani,” Thrawn greeted Ar’alani gravely in Cheunh as she and Eli walked up to him. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And you, Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” Ar’alani said, nodding. Her voice, Eli noted, was studiously neutral. “I trust you are well?”
“I am,” Thrawn assured her. “The Empire appreciates your assistance in defeating the Grysk warship.”
“The Ascendancy was pleased to do so. I trust you suffered no casualties?”
“None,” Thrawn said. “And you?”
“The same,” Ar’alani said.
Thrawn nodded; and finally, his eyes turned to Eli.
Reflexively, Eli stiffened to attention. Over a year since he’d left the Empire. Over a year since he’d spoken to his onetime commander and mentor. Over a year of feeling like he didn’t belong, without any genuine purpose to his life. Thrawn’s encouragement right now was just what he needed—
“Good day, Lieutenant Vanto,” Thrawn said, nodding once and then turning back to Ar’alani. “We need to go to the observation post,” he said, beckoning to her and Eli as he started toward his own waiting shuttle. “The boarding party has done its initial sweep. We should join them as quickly as possible.”
Eli froze, his own readied greeting freezing in his throat. That was it? Good day, Lieutenant Vanto? All the long months since their last meeting, and that was all the greeting he got?
“Of course,” Ar’alani said, turning to follow. “Come, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Eli said, the whole sense of unreality still digging at him. Good day, Lieutenant Vanto…
He started as the death troopers silently closed in around them, feeling his growing bewilderment and resentment disappear into understanding. Of course—Thrawn was merely being formal here because of the urgency of the situation and because there were strangers present. Once they got someplace more private, that stiff and proper exterior would surely open up.
Thrawn’s portrayal of the structure as an observation post had given Eli the mental picture of something fixed in orbit, able to move only under the system’s composite gravitational pull. But as they approached, he saw it was more like the kind of portable survey labs the Republic had used during the height of its expansion phase. He could see sampling nozzles, sensor clusters, drive flares, and the telltale vents and power cables of a hyperdrive. Most of the station was dark—clearly, the Chimaera had hit it with a massive ion burst—but even as they approached, some of the external lights were starting to return. Around the back of the post, he could see the edge of a heavily damaged Allanar N3 light freighter secured to the hull, presumably the ship the Steadfast had seen being yanked out of hyperspace.
“Interesting design,” Ar’alani commented. “Not one I’ve seen before.”
“Nor I,” Thrawn said. “I believe this was created by one of the Grysk client species.”
“Perhaps they can give us some insights regarding our enemy.”
Thrawn shook his head. “Unfortunately, they won’t.”
“You’re certain?”
“Yes,” Thrawn said, his voice dark. “All of them are dead.
“Murdered.”
* * *
—
Major Carvia and four of his stormtroopers are waiting in the command center. With them, their limbs double-shackled, are two Grysks. “Chiss,” the left one said. His nose flattens, the wrinkles around his eyes deepen, the muscles around his mouth tighten. Perhaps anger, perhaps surprise, perhaps gloating. “I suppose we should have expected you.” His Meese Caulf speech holds some fluency, but it also holds an accent. There are some mispronunciations.
“I suppose you should have,” Ar’alani said. Her voice and body stance hold interest and controlled anger. Her Meese Caulf is far more fluent. “Did you tell them, Mitth’raw’nuruodo?”
“Not yet. I thought you would like to have the pleasure.”
Ar’alani inclines her head. Her expression holds anticipation and mild gratitude at the gesture. “Thank you. I thought you would like to know that your backup defense ship is gone,” she said. “Destroyed.”
The Grysks’ expressions change, their torsos tensing and drawing back briefly before relaxing again. “To what exactly do you refer?” the left one asked.
“The warship that was hiding beneath a pile of rock,” Ar’alani said. “The warship waiting for trouble. The warship that found that trouble, and paid the price of overconfidence.”
The right Grysk starts to turn his head toward his fellow, but breaks off t
he motion before it is completed. Perhaps surprise, perhaps disbelief. “If you speak in bluff, you make a poor job of it,” the left Grysk said. His tone is deeper, the words coming out with more deliberation. Perhaps caution, perhaps disbelief.
“No bluff,” Ar’alani said. “Perhaps you would like to see an image of its current state?”
The right Grysk’s expression remains unaltered, but the left Grysk’s body stance returns to its original position. Perhaps he has now accepted the warship’s destruction.
Ar’alani has seen the shifts in body stance, too. Her expression holds sudden understanding. “Or didn’t you realize there was anyone else out there?” she asked.
The left Grysk’s expression changes again. It now perhaps holds anger or betrayal. “There wouldn’t be much use in having a guardian if we didn’t know about it, now, would there?” he said.
“Tell us what happened here.”
The left Grysk makes a sound like a wet whistle. “Figure it out for yourself.”
“I wasn’t speaking to you. I was speaking to my troop commander.”
The Grysk’s expression changes. This time it almost certainly holds anger and contempt. “You ask a mere hireling for his thoughts?”
“A human hireling is more to be respected than a Grysk slave.”
The anger deepens. “You dare call me a slave? I am Lifeholder and Deathbringer. I am Seeker of Conquest.”
“Commander?”
“It looks like they went through the post and killed everyone, sir.” Major Carvia’s voice holds contempt and disgust. “Five humans and eighteen beings of a species we couldn’t identify, all of them stabbed multiple times. The humans were in what looked like examination or confinement rooms. The others were in various places around the ship.” He hesitates, his body stance holding reluctance. “I’m afraid we also found a Chiss. A young girl. She wasn’t slaughtered like the others, though.” The new words come out in a rush, his tone holding regret, the words designed to offer a small consolation. “I think she might already have died before the killings.”
