Treason - Timothy Zahn

by Star Wars

  “Of course you are,” Thrawn said. “That is why I know you would fight the Grysks with all your mind and heart. Because they are as dangerous a threat to the Empire as they are to the Ascendancy.”

  Ronan shook his head. “I can’t leave. Do you understand? I can’t.”

  “Then you die,” Thrawn said flatly.

  Ronan glared at him. Yes, he was loyal. Yes, he was invaluable to Director Krennic and Stardust.

  And yes, he felt nothing but contempt for the Emperor.

  “Bear in mind that your decision to leave would not be irrevocable,” Thrawn continued. “As you see, the Chiss are quite able to slip into the Empire without detection. If you or Admiral Ar’alani decide that you will not be useful in the coming war, she can bring you back.”

  “The most useful thing I can do for your war is to make sure Stardust is operational on schedule,” Ronan retorted.

  “Then return to Director Krennic,” Thrawn said. “And Lord Vader.”

  For a long moment Ronan just stared at him. Surely he didn’t really expect Ronan to take him up on his insane offer. To leave the Empire and embrace an alien civilization that could easily become an enemy to everything he’d ever known—no. There was no way he could ever do something like that. Better by far to return to Director Krennic and take his chances with Vader.

  But even as he opened his mouth to say so, a memory flashed back. Looking into the Chimaera’s bridge, watching the woman Vah’nya twitch in reaction before there was anything to react to.

  Could that be Thrawn’s real plan here? To send Ronan with Ar’alani in the hope of embedding an ally into his and the Emperor’s secret plan to seek out and destroy the Jedi among his people?

  Ridiculous. Thrawn hadn’t even been facing Ronan at the time of that incident. There was no way he could know that Ronan had witnessed Vah’nya’s action, or that he’d come to the correct conclusion.

  But the fact that Thrawn didn’t know Ronan was a potential ally didn’t mean Ronan couldn’t become one anyway.

  In fact, sometimes a secret ally was the best kind to have.

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go. But only for now, and only if Ar’alani can give me hard evidence that the Grysks are a threat to the Empire.”

  “Understood,” Thrawn said. “I will so instruct her.” He gestured to the pair of death troopers standing silent watch at the end of the command walkway. “One of my guards will escort you to Admiral Ar’alani’s shuttle. Lieutenant Commander Vanto is waiting there and will begin your orientation. I will send the admiral down momentarily. If you change your mind before she arrives, you have but to step off her shuttle and you will be escorted to a different vessel for transport to Stardust.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Ronan said.

  No, he wouldn’t change his mind, he thought grimly as he headed into the turbolift car, the death trooper close behind him. Not yet.

  But if it turned out Thrawn wasn’t working with the Emperor on this Jedi thing, but was secretly working against him, the grand admiral would find he hadn’t sent a pawn or even a secret ally to his people. He would instead have sent an enemy.

  And while Ronan would make an excellent ally, he would also make a very, very dangerous enemy.

  * * *

  —

  Ar’alani watches the turbolift doors close. Her expression holds thoughtfulness and uncertainty. “You’re taking a terrible risk, Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” she said. Her voice holds warning and disapproval. “He is unhappy, unwilling, and unconvinced.”

  “I know. That’s part of the framework.”

  Ar’alani shakes her head. Her expression and body stance now hold worry. “Dangerous,” she said. “Harboring a potential traitor is bad enough. Knowing you’re harboring a potential traitor is worse.”

  “Not at all. One can make sure a potential traitor is prepared with the information and expertise one wishes the enemy to know.”

  “Is that your plan for Ronan?”

  “It’s merely my suggestion. He’s yours now. What you do with him is up to you.”

  Ar’alani purses her lips. Her body stance now holds some dark amusement. “Someday, Mitth’raw’nuruodo, you’ll overthink and overplan, and it will come crashing down all around you. When that happens, I hope someone is there to lift you back to your feet.”

  “You, perhaps?”

  Ar’alani shakes her head. Her expression holds regret, perhaps even pain. “I very much fear I will never see you again. The growing chaos in the Ascendancy warns of coming war. If you don’t return quickly, there may be nothing left for you to return to.”

  “I understand. But for now, I must remain here.”

  “Then do what you deem right,” Ar’alani said. Her expression is stiff but firm, holding farewell. “And may warrior’s fortune be ever in your favor.”

  * * *

  —

  The brief conversation ended. Faro watched out of the corner of her eye, seething, pretending to be engrossed in her datapad as Ar’alani and the death trooper escorting her entered the turbolift.

  Doubly seething now, actually.

  She’d been aching to get Ronan alone, even for a single minute, just enough time to tell him exactly what she thought of his petty behavior toward Thrawn. Not just his betrayal of Thrawn and the Defender project, but also his steadfast and stupid refusal to see the larger picture. His childish petulance, his narrow-minded decision to play Krennic’s games instead of rising above petty politics and serving the Empire.

  She’d already planned out her speech, in fact, for once not even caring whether or not she stepped over the line into insubordination. Ronan needed to hear this, to hear every bit and piece and nuance of it, and the hell with any damage it might do to Faro’s own career. For the Empire—hell, for the entire galaxy—Thrawn needed Ronan to speak up on his behalf to Krennic and Tarkin and even the Emperor if necessary. If she couldn’t strangle the bastard with her bare hands, she could at least offer him one last chance to make things right.

  Only now, Thrawn had unexpectedly sent Ronan away with a death trooper escort, presumably to the hangar bay and his escape back to Stardust. Faro would probably never even see him again, let alone have the chance to deliver her verbal salvo.

  Damn it.

  Thrawn waited until the turbolift door had closed, then turned and walked back onto the bridge. “Commodore,” he said in greeting as he walked up to her. “Have you made the arrangements with Captain Pellaeon?”

  Faro squared her shoulders. One must never dwell on failure, Thrawn had once told her. When defeat has come, a true warrior accepts it, learns from it, and continues on.

  More than that, Faro added to herself, a true warrior should never complain about that defeat. “Yes, sir, I have,” she said. “The Harbinger should arrive at Lothal shortly before we do.”

  “Good,” Thrawn said. “You seem disturbed. May I ask the reason?”

  Should never complain about defeat…“It’s not important, sir.”

  “I presume you were unhappy to hear from Assistant Director Ronan that I had recommended against your appointment as commander of Task Force 231.”

  And there it was, right out in the open. With everything else that had happened in the past few days, she’d managed to compartmentalize that nagging bruise into a back corner of her mind.

  But now that conversation came thundering back to the forefront. At the time she’d concluded that Ronan was lying, and had tried to put it aside.

  Was Thrawn now confirming it?

  “Permission to speak freely, sir?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Yes, sir, to be honest I was,” she said, rather surprised her words were coming out so calmly. But then, after Ronan’s betrayal of Thrawn, such minor things as her future career didn’t seem all that important. “May I ask
why you did that?”

  “Because you are far better than that,” Thrawn said. “A better administrator, a better tactician, simply a better officer. I therefore requested that you be removed from consideration for Task Force 231 and instead be considered to command the Eleventh Fleet.”

  Faro felt her eyes widen. “The Eleventh Fleet? Admiral, I’m just a commodore.”

  “Perhaps that will change.”

  “Sir, this is hardly a joking matter,” Faro insisted.

  “I wasn’t joking, Commodore,” Thrawn assured her. “The point is that you are an exceptionally competent commander, and the Imperial fleet needs to recognize and reward all such people. Your performance today against Grand Admiral Savit merely underlines that ability.”

  Faro took a deep breath. “Sir, I appreciate your confidence. But we both know that the action against the Firedrake was all yours.”

  “Was it?” Thrawn countered. “Tell me, why did you deviate from my instructions regarding the impact point of the cloaked generator?”

  Faro felt her throat tighten. She’d hoped he would put that down to a simple mistake or miscalculation. Clearly, he knew the change in his plan had been deliberate. “Up to that point, the Firedrake’s TIE fighters hadn’t been brought into play,” she said. “I remembered your comment that Savit didn’t really trust other people, but I’d also seen him use the Stormbird and Misthunter against us instead of doing the dirty work himself. I knew he would eventually have no choice but to use his own forces, so I thought it might be better to add some confusion to his hangar bay instead of just taking out one of the starboard turbolasers with a wedgeline impact. Especially since your commandeered TIEs were already on their way to handle the turbolaser targeting sensors.”

  “Excellent reasoning,” Thrawn said. “I had already minimized the danger of a fighter threat, but you had no way of knowing that. What you did was observe your opponent, weigh his strengths and weaknesses, think several moves ahead, and plan your strategy accordingly. Those are all signs of a good commander.”

  He regarded her thoughtfully. “You also have a far better sense of Imperial politics than I do. I presume you were the one sending anonymous reports to Grand Moff Tarkin?”

  “Yes, sir,” Faro said. Oddly enough, on this one she felt less need to apologize. “Regulations require a report to be filed whenever contact with an unknown species is made. Since Tarkin is the grand moff of this region and holds direct control over it, I thought it would make sense to send the reports directly to him instead of Coruscant.”

  “And you also thought that such reasoning could be logically defended should the need arise?”

  “Yes, sir,” Faro said. “It could also be seen as pure accident that no name had been attached to the reports.”

  “At which point, should the question arise, you would claim you had filed them on my behalf?”

  “Yes, sir,” Faro said. “I also knew Ronan would be sending reports to Krennic that would be as negative as possible. I thought it would be useful for someone to balance that a little.”

  “Indeed,” Thrawn said. “As I said before, you have a much better instinct for such political matters.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Faro said, not entirely sure whether that was a compliment, but deciding to treat it as such. The useful tool sometimes called plausible deniability was hardly something the Empire had invented. “I appreciate your efforts on my behalf regarding my reassignment,” she added. “I’ll look forward to hearing the High Command’s decision.”

  Thrawn’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You misunderstand. Your reassignment was approved earlier this morning. You’ll be leaving the Chimaera at Lothal for Coruscant and orientation on your new command.”

  Faro felt her eyes bulge. “My new—sir?”

  “Indeed,” Thrawn said, and this time there was no mistaking his smile. “Congratulations, Commodore Faro. May you serve the Eleventh Fleet as well as you’ve served the Seventh.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Faro managed. “It—sir, it’s been the greatest privilege of my life to serve under you. I can only hope my officers will feel even a tenth of that pride and satisfaction under my command.”

  “They will that, and far more,” Thrawn assured her. “And now, Commodore, one final time: You may prepare my ship.”

  The face that appeared on the Emperor’s private comm display was a familiar one. Grand Admiral Thrawn.

  But was it the face of a senior Imperial officer? Or was it the face of a quiet traitor? The Emperor no longer knew for certain.

  But he was determined to find out.

  “So,” he said. “Grand Admiral Savit is a traitor.”

  “So it would seem, Your Majesty,” Thrawn said.

  “Believing he was serving the Empire,” the Emperor continued, “while merely serving himself.”

  “Yes,” Thrawn said.

  “And what of you, Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo?” the Emperor demanded. “What of you and the Chiss? Tell me how that is not a similar situation.”

  “It is not at all similar,” Thrawn said. His voice was calm, but the Emperor could see the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth. He was walking dangerous ground, and he was fully aware of it. “Admiral Ar’alani’s force arrived in the Empire without my permission or knowledge. When they revealed themselves, it was to warn of an unknown threat against the Empire.”

  “Yes, Lord Vader has already spoken to me about these Grysks,” the Emperor said. “He tells me the threat is distant. He also tells me the danger is primarily against your Chiss Ascendancy.”

  “Lord Vader’s assessment is correct,” Thrawn said. “But I respectfully submit that it is also incomplete. The Grysk presence we uncovered in Kurost sector is proof of their active interest in the Empire. Particularly dangerous is the fact that their observation and research post brought them perilously close to Stardust.”

  “Hardly close to Stardust,” the Emperor scoffed. “Merely to one of Krennic’s many supply lines.”

  “But even the most insignificant supply line leads eventually to the center,” Thrawn pointed out. “May I also remind His Majesty that the Grysks at the post were already seeking to learn the ways and means of suborning Imperial citizens. Consider the possibility of the Death Star in enemy hands, and you will surely understand my concern.”

  The Emperor scowled. He and Krennic had gone to great lengths to keep the words Death Star out of any but the most secure communications among the most senior of Stardust personnel. The fact that Thrawn had managed to ferret out the battle station’s name still rankled. “No one but the Empire will ever control Stardust,” he said flatly. “Not the Grysks. Certainly not the Chiss.”

  “I do not seek Stardust for the Chiss,” Thrawn assured him. “Indeed, I would fight with all my skill and strength to make sure that did not happen.”

  “Would you?” the Emperor countered. “Your loyalty is in question, Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo.”

  “My loyalty remains firm, Your Majesty,” Thrawn said. “There is no conflict with my service to the Empire and my recent cooperation with the Chiss.”

  “You made the same statement and claim to Lord Vader,” the Emperor said. “I wonder perhaps if that excuse is wearing thin.”

  “If you wish to remove me from my rank and position, that is of course your right,” Thrawn said, his voice now showing the same strain that was evident in his face. “But I continue to maintain my commitment and loyalty to you and to the Empire.”

  For a long moment, the Emperor gazed into those glowing red eyes. Thrawn was a useful and formidable servant. But he would make an equally formidable enemy.

  And a servant with divided loyalties was no servant at all.

  There was an even more intriguing question, however. If the Chiss also recognized that fact, and if Thrawn was indeed loyal to the Em
pire instead of the Ascendancy, would his own people decide he was a potential threat to them? If so, would they move to eliminate that threat?

  And what of the Grysks? Lord Vader had dismissed them as a distant threat, one that could be ignored for the present. But he’d been unable to hide the fact that they were a threat.

  Perhaps Thrawn was pointing in the right direction. Perhaps an alliance between the Empire and the Ascendancy was what the future held.

  With himself, the Emperor, in command of both.

  It was an intriguing thought. Perhaps Thrawn could be made an even more valuable servant.

  If he committed treason against the Empire, he would surely die. If he was loyal to the Empire, perhaps he could be persuaded or manipulated into treason against the Ascendancy.

  Another intriguing thought. One that would require additional meditation.

  But for now there were other more urgent matters to deal with. The Lothal rebels…and the young Jedi Ezra Bridger.

  “We will speak of this another time,” he told Thrawn. “I’m sending you instructions on a chamber I wish for you to construct aboard the Chimaera. After you reach Lothal, and put down the rebel activity, you will bring Ezra Bridger to that chamber.” He smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to persuade him to join you.”

  “I will endeavor to do so, Your Majesty,” Thrawn promised.

  “Then I leave you to your duties,” the Emperor said. “And Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “When the business on Lothal is finished,” the Emperor said softly, “you will return to Coruscant.

  “Where you and I will have a long, long talk.”

  For all who have ever had to consider the cost of doing the right thing

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