Chaos Rising

by Timothy Zahn

  “There should be only minimal trouble for either of you,” Thrawn said. “I can take a shuttle in while the Vigilant returns to the Ascendancy. That should add only a few hours to your travel time.”

  “You don’t want us to wait?” Ar’alani asked, frowning. “What if the Garwians don’t want to talk to you?”

  “I believe they will,” Thrawn said. “If I may ask a favor, Admiral, I’d like to borrow your office for the next hour or two.”

  “Of course,” Ar’alani said. “Take all the time you need. Caregiver Thalias, bring Sky-walker Che’ri out of Third Sight as soon as it’s convenient and safe. She’s to then reroute us to the Garwian capital planet of Solitair.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” Thalias said. She hadn’t missed a word of the discussion, Ar’alani could see, but she showed no inclination to question the decision. “It’ll be a few more minutes before Che’ri can be disturbed.”

  “At your own timing and judgment, Caregiver,” Ar’alani assured her. “Captain Thrawn, my office is yours.”

  Thrawn shook his head. “Unacceptable,” he declared. “Completely unacceptable.”

  Ziara’s years in the Expansionary Defense Fleet had honed her ability to cringe on the inside without letting the accompanying emotion show in her face or stance. Nonetheless, this time it was a very near thing. A junior commander, even one who’d just received impressive accolades, never talked to a senior officer that way. It would serve him right if Ba’kif slammed him right down to the floor.

  Fortunately for Thrawn, Ba’kif had an above-average patience level. “Do I need to detail for you the protocols on preemptive strikes?” he asked, his voice calm.

  “No, sir,” Thrawn said. At least, Ziara thought, he got in a sir this time. “I simply don’t see how it applies in this case. The ships were of Lioaoin design, they were using Lioaoin docking facilities, and they pursued us from the regime heartworld. It seems indisputable that the pirates are, in fact, under direct Lioaoin control and supervision.”

  “Of course it’s disputable,” Ba’kif said. “The regime has categorically disputed it.”

  “They’re lying.”

  “Perhaps,” Ba’kif said. “But we have only what we have: circumstantial evidence and an official denial.”

  “So we allow them to go on their way unscathed?” Thrawn persisted.

  “What would you have us do?” Ba’kif asked. “Launch a full-scale war fleet to descend upon the heartworld and destroy every governmental and military installation we can find?”

  Thrawn’s lips compressed briefly. “It would hardly take an entire fleet,” he hedged.

  “You’re evading the point,” Ba’kif said. “Let me make it clearer. Would you destroy property and condemn people to death for the possible actions—the possible actions—of their government?”

  “And what of our people?” Thrawn countered. “We’ve also suffered losses of property and life.”

  “Those who inflicted those losses have been killed or punished.”

  “Those who did the actual deeds, perhaps. Not those who sent them.”

  “Again, you have no proof.”

  Thrawn’s eyes flicked to Ziara. “Then let me obtain it,” he offered. “Let me go to the regime as a merchant or diplomat and find a way into their archives. Official orders, or perhaps a clear line of plunder distribution—”

  “Enough,” Ba’kif snapped, his patience finally breaking. “Understand this, Commander, and understand it clearly. The Ascendancy does not attack other systems unless we have clear evidence that they attacked us first. We don’t attack militarily, diplomatically, subversively, clandestinely, or psychologically. Those who do not attack us will not be attacked by us. Is that clear?”

  “Very clear, General,” Thrawn said, his voice as stiff as his posture.

  “Good,” Ba’kif said. He took a deep breath. “Now, the other item I wanted to discuss with the two of you.” He glanced at Ziara, then turned back to Thrawn. “For your sterling performance in planning and executing the mission, Junior Commander Thrawn, you are hereby promoted to senior commander.”

  A touch of surprise crossed Thrawn’s expression. “Two ranks, sir?”

  “Two ranks.” Ba’kif gave a little snort. “Yes, I know. But your success against the pirates has you riding high at the moment, and the Ascendancy does cherish its heroes. And, of course, you’re Mitth.”

  Thrawn’s face seemed to fall a little. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”

  Ba’kif inclined his head and turned to Ziara. “And you, Mid Captain Ziara, are also hereby promoted to senior captain.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Ziara said, her chest seeming to close around her heart. Senior captain. One more promotion, and she would reach commodore.

  The rank where everything changed.

  “Congratulations to you both,” Ba’kif said. “You can pick up your new insignia and IDs from the quartermaster. You’re dismissed, Thrawn. Ziara, another moment of your time.”

  He waited in silence until Thrawn had left the room. “Your assessment, Senior Captain?” he asked, nodding toward the closed door.

  “He’s brilliant, sir,” Ziara said. “Excellent strategist and tactician.”

  “And his political shrewdness?”

  “Poor to nonexistent.”

  “Agreed,” Ba’kif said. “He’s going to need a steady hand, both to guide him and to prevent him from continually grabbing the wrong end of the fire stick.”

  Ziara suppressed a wince. “Do I need to guess, sir?”

  “Hardly,” Ba’kif said, smiling tightly. “I’m putting him aboard with you as your third officer.” He glanced at his questis. “Your new ship will be the patrol cruiser Parala.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ziara said, feeling herself straighten up a bit more. Patrol cruisers typically traveled far outside the recognized boundaries of the Ascendancy, gathering intel and watching for potential threats. An interesting and highly coveted assignment. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’ve earned it,” Ba’kif said. “I know you’ll do whatever is necessary for the defense and protection of the Ascendancy.” He drew himself up to full attention. “Dismissed, Senior Captain. And good luck.”

  She’d expected Thrawn to have already left. Instead, she found him waiting for her outside the general’s office. “Trouble?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “I’m commanding the Parala, and you’re my new third officer.”

  Again, a brief look of surprise. “Really?”

  “Really,” she said, starting down the hallway. “Quartermaster’s this way.”

  He dropped into step beside her. “Congratulations,” he said as they walked. “The Parala’s reputed to be an excellent ship.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Ziara said. “Congratulations to you as well, by the way. Two ranks at once is almost unheard of.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Thrawn said, his voice going distant. “Though of course what’s given can also be taken away.”

  Ziara leaned forward to peer at his face. “Something wrong?”

  He looked sideways at her, then turned to face forward again. “The Lioaoin Regime didn’t go into piracy simply because they were bored,” he said. “They clearly have a serious financial problem.”

  “You suggesting we take up a collection?”

  He shot her another look, this one carrying an edge of annoyance. “They won’t try it again with the Ascendancy,” he said. “But the problem remains, as does their chosen remedy. Once they’ve regrouped and replaced the ships you destroyed, they’ll be back, attacking merchants from other systems. What happens to those systems?”

  Ziara shrugged. “They’ll have to deal with the Lioaoi on their own.”

  “What if they aren’t strong enough to do so?” Thrawn persisted. “Are we supposed to just sit back and watch the
m suffer?”

  Ziara looked him straight in the eye. “Yes.”

  For a moment they locked gazes. Thrawn turned away first. “Because we don’t interfere in the affairs of others.”

  “Would you rather the Ascendancy became guardians for the entire Chaos?” Ziara asked. “Because that’s where that path would take us. We would rescue one, then another, then a third, until finally we stood alone as bulwark against a thousand different aggressors. Is that what you think we should do?”

  “No, of course not,” he said. “But there has to be a middle path.”

  For a few steps they walked in silence. “If it helps, I understand what you’re saying,” Ziara said at last. “Tell you what. When you rise to rule the Aristocra and the Ascendancy, I’ll help you work out a solution.”

  Thrawn gave a little snort. “There’s no need to be sarcastic.”

  “Who says that was sarcasm?” Ziara asked. “The Mitth are an important family, and as General Ba’kif said you’re riding high in their estimation. The point is that non-intervention is the Ascendancy’s protocol at the moment. Unless or until that changes, we accept our orders and fulfill our duties.” She caught his arm, bringing him to a sudden stop, and gazed hard into his face. “And that’s all we do. Understood?”

  A small smile touched his lips. “Of course, Senior Captain Ziara.”

  “And don’t worry that your family’s influence was what jumped you those ranks,” she continued. “Don’t deny it—I saw it in your face. I’m sure the Mitth connection didn’t hurt, but the Council doesn’t do things just because some syndic wants them to. If they did, I’d have been jumped three ranks.”

  “And you’d have deserved it,” Thrawn said.

  Ziara started to smile. The smile faded as she realized he was serious. “Hardly.”

  “I disagree.” Thrawn seemed to consider that. “I respectfully disagree,” he amended. “You’ll certainly make full admiral someday. The Council might as well promote you now and save themselves some time.”

  “I appreciate your confidence,” Ziara said, turning away and starting to walk again. “But I’m content to take the slow, steady route.”

  Admiral. Actually, the word had a nice ring to it. Provided, of course, that she was as good as Thrawn seemed to think.

  And provided that, while he served under her command, he didn’t do something to ruin her chances forever.

  The hatch into Admiral Ar’alani’s office slid open. Bracing herself, wondering what this sudden summons was all about, Thalias stepped inside. “You wanted to see me, Senior Captain?” she said.

  “Yes,” Thrawn replied. “Come in, please. I want to show you something.”

  Thalias took another step forward, hearing the hatch slide closed behind her, and looked around. Given Thrawn’s reputation—or perhaps his notoriety—with artwork, she’d expected to find the office filled with holograms of Garwian sculptures and paintings. To her mild surprise, she instead found him surrounded by a three-dimensional map filled with stars and star routes.

  “Here’s the Ascendancy,” he said, waving a finger through a familiar cluster of stars just off center on the map. “Here’s the Lioaoin Regime”—he pointed to a much smaller group of stars to the north-zenith of the Ascendancy. “Here’s Rapacc—” He shifted the finger a little way east-nadir. “Here’s Urch”—a little more east-nadir and a bit to the south. “And here are the Paataatus worlds.” He shifted his finger one final time to a spot on the Ascendancy’s southeast-zenith border. “What do you see?”

  “The first three are north and northeast of us,” Thalias said, wondering why he’d brought in the Paataatus. They were far away from all the others he’d mentioned, and besides they’d already been dealt with.

  “Indeed,” Thrawn said. “Three different nations under Nikardun attack or besiegement, all three on the edges of the Ascendancy.”

  Thalias wrinkled her nose. They weren’t that close, really. Certainly not close enough to be a threat.

  “So far none of the Nikardun conquests is encroaching directly on the Ascendancy,” Thrawn said, as if he’d read her mind and her silent objection. “But the pattern is troubling. If Yiv is targeting us, this is the ideal way for him to begin.”

  “All right,” Thalias said cautiously. “But if he attacks, can’t we deal with him like we did the Paataatus?”

  “Interesting that you mention the Paataatus,” Thrawn said. “Their artwork and entire culture strongly implies that the defeat Admiral Ar’alani delivered to them should have ended any resistance to us for the rest of this generation. Yet reports from Naporar indicate they may be rearming for another attack. I suggest that they, too, may be under Yiv’s influence and control.”

  Thalias looked at the map again. And if that was true, it was no longer just the Nikardun working their way across the Chaos, with the Ascendancy in their path purely by coincidence. If they’d also conquered or suborned the Paataatus, there was a good chance they were deliberately encircling the Chiss. It was as if Yiv was raising the whole of the Chaos against them. “What can we do?”

  “As I told the admiral, we need more information,” Thrawn said. “I’ve spent the past hour studying the map, and there are four other nations in particular whose current status I believe may be revealing. I’m hoping I can persuade the Garwians to take me to one of them under a suitable pretext.”

  “That sounds…extremely dangerous,” Thalias said.

  “Dangerous, perhaps,” Thrawn said. “But not extremely so. The Garwians…let’s just say they owe me for past events.”

  Thalias made a face. She’d heard a little about those events, and they weren’t counted as being among the Ascendancy’s finest moments. “Have you cleared this with the admiral?”

  “I have.” Thrawn smiled faintly. “I can’t say she’s enthusiastic about the plan, but she’s willing to go along with it.”

  In other words, happy with the plan or not, Ar’alani was willing to stick her neck beneath the blade alongside Thrawn’s. “I see. I assume I’m here because you want something from me, too?”

  “Very good,” Thrawn said. “Yes, I’d like you to accompany me on this expedition.”

  Thalias had sort of guessed that was where this conversation would eventually end up. Her mind flicked back to her deal with Syndic Thurfian. “As an additional observer, I assume?”

  “Yes.” He paused. “And as my family hostage.”

  Thalias felt her eyes go wide. “As your—what?”

  “My family hostage,” Thrawn repeated.

  “Which is what?”

  Thrawn pursed his lips. “In certain circumstances, the rivalry between Chiss families is strong enough that they agree to exchange hostages. One member from each side is rematched as a merit adoptive, and that person serves under another family member as servant and hostage. Should hostilities break out between the families, the hostages know they will be immediately killed.”

  Thalias stared at him. “I’ve never even heard of that.”

  “Of course not.” Thrawn’s gave her a small smile. “Because I just made it up.”

  She shook her head. “All right, I’m lost.”

  “It’s very simple,” Thrawn said quietly. “I expect the Nikardun to know a great deal about the Ascendancy and Chiss culture. To defeat an enemy you must know them, and they are clearly expert conquerors.” He stopped, an expectant expression on his face.

  Thalias made a face. Playing teacher, just as he had on the Paccosh mining station, waiting for her to come up with the right answer.

  But at least this time that answer was obvious. “So if they suddenly learn there’s something they don’t know about us, something really important, they might decide they need to rethink their whole strategy?”

  “Exactly,” Thrawn said. “At best, it may cause Yiv to abandon his plans agains
t us. At worst, it should buy us some time.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “The question is whether you’re willing and able to play such a role.”

  The obvious answer—yes—rose quickly into Thalias’s throat. But even as she opened her mouth to say the word, she realized it wasn’t nearly that easy.

  She had no idea how a hostage spoke and behaved and thought. Probably there would be some hesitation, some low-level but constant fear for her life, possibly a degree of eagerness to please the one who held her life in his hands. Could she pull all of that off in a believable way?

  More than that, going with Thrawn would mean leaving Che’ri alone aboard the Vigilant. Certainly the girl could handle a trip back to the Ascendancy on her own—it wasn’t like Ar’alani couldn’t assign one of her officers to take care of their sky-walker for a few days.

  But Che’ri had lost so many other caregivers over her time in the fleet. Would she see Thalias’s departure as yet another abandonment, no matter how good or necessary the cause? Thalias could explain the situation before she left, but that didn’t necessarily mean Che’ri would hear or understand. Where exactly did Thalias’s true duty and commitment lie?

  She looked at the map, at the clusters of enemy stars closing in around the Ascendancy. Suddenly her own uncertainties, comfort, and self-respect didn’t seem nearly so important anymore. As for Che’ri, Thalias could only do her best to explain it to the girl.

  “I don’t know how to be a hostage,” she said, turning back to Thrawn. “But I’m ready to learn.”

  Thrawn inclined his head to her. “Thank you,” he said. Stepping to the desk, he touched a key. “Admiral, this is Thrawn. Caregiver Thalias has agreed to accompany me. Can you inform Sky-walker Che’ri and make arrangements for someone to take over her care when we reach Solitair?”

  “I’d like to tell her myself,” Thalias put in. “It might be easier coming from me.”

  “That’s reasonable,” Ar’alani said. “Do you have someone you’d recommend to take your place?”