by Timothy Zahn
“And if we find these potential allies you’re hoping for? How do you propose an alliance to a Syndicure that has refused all such entanglements for centuries?”
“Let’s first find them,” Thrawn said. “We’ll deal with the Aristocra if and when we have to.”
Ba’kif sighed. Ungimbaled laser…“You’re sure you won’t be missed?”
Thrawn nodded. “Mid Captain Samakro is overseeing the Springhawk’s repairs. It requires enough work to keep it in bluedock for at least six weeks.”
“How did you arrange that much damage?” Ba’kif held up a hand. “Never mind. All right, I’ll have a scout ship assigned to you and get it prepped. But not a word to either Thalias or Che’ri about your actual mission until you’re under way. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“One final consideration, then,” Ba’kif said, putting the full weight of his long career into his voice. “You’re not only putting yourself at risk, but also risking the lives of the two women, one of them an immensely valuable sky-walker. If the whole thing goes crash-dive, are you prepared to have their deaths on your conscience?”
“I’m aware of the danger,” Thrawn said. “I would never want the weight of such memories and regrets. But I’m more prepared to see their deaths through my action than I am to put the entire Ascendancy at the same risk through my inaction.”
Ba’kif nodded. He’d thought Thrawn’s answer would be something like that. And unfortunately, he had to agree with him. “The ship will be ready by the time you’ve collected your fellow travelers and your supplies,” he said. “Your orders will be cut but sealed. No one will know about your mission but me.”
“Thank you, sir,” Thrawn said, standing up. “Thank you, too, for not adding the extra burden of a reminder that your career is also on the line.”
“You worry about your sky-walker and the Ascendancy,” Ba’kif growled. “I’ll worry about my career. Now get out of here. And may warrior’s fortune smile on your efforts.”
* * *
—
“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Che’ri murmured, looking up from her questis and the picture she’d been drawing. She craned her neck toward General Ba’kif’s closed office door, halfway down the busy corridor, as if moving her head a couple of centimeters closer would magically give her the ability to see or hear through it.
“I don’t know,” Thalias said, resisting the impulse to remind the girl that she’d made that same half-question comment twice already, and that the answer wasn’t going to change until Thrawn came through the doorway.
But the topic of the unheard conversation wasn’t hard to guess. Thrawn’s vague question about whether she and Che’ri would be willing to go with him on a special mission would have been intriguing enough even if it hadn’t immediately been followed by this meeting with Ba’kif. But it had been followed by the meeting, and the only reasonable conclusion was that the two of them were discussing the details of that mission.
“They’re coming,” Che’ri said suddenly.
Thalias looked at the still-unopened door, feeling a touch of bittersweet memory. Back when she was Che’ri’s age, she’d been able to do that same trick, using Third Sight to know a couple of seconds in advance when something was about to happen. Most people—at least those who knew what sky-walkers were—took the whole thing in stride. But there’d been a few others who’d never gotten used to it. Freaking them out was half the fun of doing the trick.
The door opened, and Thrawn emerged. Ba’kif followed, but stopped in the doorway, and for a moment the two men held a final bit of inaudible conversation. Thrawn nodded at last and started down the corridor toward Thalias and Che’ri—
“Good afternoon, Caregiver Thalias.”
Thalias turned. Syndic Thurfian was standing there, smiling the smile she’d seen on him way too many times. The look was never a genuinely friendly one, and it was nearly always the prelude to bad news. “Good afternoon, Syndic,” she replied. “What can I do for you?”
“I wonder if you’d be good enough to come to my office for a few minutes,” Thurfian said. “There’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you.”
Thalias felt her stomach tightening. No—not now. Of all the times he could have chosen. “I’m sorry, but my commander is on his way,” she said, keeping her tone neutral as she nodded back toward Thrawn. “I’m certain he has some official duty for us.”
“I’m quite certain he hasn’t,” Thurfian said, still smiling. “Apparently you’ve forgotten that your ship has gone into bluedock for some fairly extensive repairs. Unless General Ba’kif has dug up a spare ship, Senior Captain Thrawn can’t possibly need you.”
“You might be surprised at Captain Thrawn’s ingenuity,” Thalias said, feeling sweat gathering under her collar. It was now, all right. The worst possible time, and so of course he’d chosen it. “At any rate, I’m under his command, not yours.”
“Well, let’s ask him, then, shall we?” Thurfian shifted his gaze over Thalias’s shoulder. “Senior Captain Thrawn,” he said, his voice holding the same false cheer as his smile. “I need to borrow your caregiver for an hour or so. Surely you have no objection?”
“None at all,” Thrawn said, his eyes flicking briefly to Thalias. “I presume you won’t also need Che’ri?”
A hint of a frown touched Thurfian’s face. “No, I just need Thalias. Why would I need Che’ri?”
“I don’t know,” Thrawn said. “That’s why I asked. I’m glad you don’t need her, as she’s fallen slightly behind in her studies. I expect the Springhawk’s repair schedule will give her time to catch up.”
Thurfian’s frown disappeared. “Ah. Of course.”
“I should be there to help her,” Thalias said doggedly, trying to think. If she couldn’t find a way out of this—
“This won’t take long,” Thurfian promised. “Until later, Captain Thrawn.”
“Until later,” Thrawn answered.
The Syndicure complex was about a hundred kilometers from fleet headquarters, a short twenty-minute trip by tunnel car. Neither Thalias nor Thurfian spoke during the journey, mindful of the half dozen other officers and Aristocra in the car who might overhear any conversation.
They were nearly to the end of their journey when Thalias finally came up with a plan.
Not a good plan. Probably even a desperate one. But it was all she had.
It took two minutes in the privacy of the restroom for her to set things in motion. Two minutes of time, and way more courage than she thought she possessed. But then it was done, and she was committed, and she could only hope she hadn’t brought complete ruin upon herself.
They arrived and, still in silence, Thurfian walked her down the corridors of Ascendancy power to his office.
“All right, I’m here,” she said as Thurfian ushered her into his office and motioned her to a chair. “What’s this all about?”
“Oh, please,” Thurfian protested mildly. Closing the door, he circled behind her and sat down at his desk. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what this is about. You promised me a report. It’s time to deliver.”
He activated a questis and pushed it across the desk to her. “Tell me everything you know, everything you’ve learned—everything—about Senior Captain Thrawn.”
* * *
—
For a long minute the young woman just sat there, her face rigid, her body unnaturally still. Seeking, no doubt, a way out of the trap.
The trap she’d stepped into of her own free will, of course. It was either that promise, or Thurfian would have turned around, walked back into the personnel office, and canceled her appointment as the Springhawk’s sky-walker’s caregiver. With a threat like that hanging over her, she’d had no choice but to agree.
But it hadn’t been willingly. Not by a long shot. Even now,
as he looked at her expression and body stance, it was clear she was hoping to get out of the deal.
Too bad. Her hopes didn’t matter, nor did her reticence. All that mattered was that Thrawn was up to something new, and Thurfian was getting tired of his antics. He needed a lever he could use against the maverick, and Thalias’s detailed knowledge of Thrawn’s other recent activities was that lever. “Come, come—we haven’t got all day,” he said into the taut silence. “The sooner you finish, the sooner you can go back to fawning over your big hero.”
“I assumed this would wait until the entire campaign was over,” Thalias said, making no move toward the questis.
“I never gave you any sort of timetable,” Thurfian reminded her. “The deal was very clear: I would get you aboard the Springhawk, and you would be my spy.”
Thalias flinched visibly at the word. Thurfian didn’t care about that, either. “Everything you need to know about Senior Captain Thrawn is in the official records,” she said. “Once you’ve read them, I can answer any other questions you have.”
“I have read them,” Thurfian countered. “And you’re stalling.”
“Not stalling,” Thalias said, standing up. “It just so happens I have an appointment elsewhere. If you’ll excuse me—”
“Sit down,” Thurfian said, putting all the coldness of Csilla’s surface into his voice. “You don’t wish to talk about Thrawn? Very well. Let’s talk about your family.”
“Don’t you mean our family?”
“I mean your original family,” Thurfian said. “The family who bore you, and who held your allegiance before you were taken away from them to become a sky-walker.”
Thalias paused, standing halfway between her chair and the door, a whole play of emotions skittering across her face. She had no memory of those years, Thurfian knew, which made this the ideal additional lever to use against her. “What about them?” she asked at last.
Thurfian hid a smile. She was trying to sound calm and uninterested, but the tight muscles in her throat and cheeks gave away her sudden interest and uncertainty. “I thought you might like to hear about their current situation,” he said. “And how you could perhaps help them.” He paused, waiting for her to respond.
But she remained silent. A cool character, for sure, who wouldn’t be easily swayed. But Thurfian had had plenty of experience manipulating such people.
“They’re not in great shape, you see,” he went on. “The family has always been poor, but the recent shift in the prices of certain minerals has pressed particularly hard on them. The Mitth family has many resources, some of which could be turned in their direction.”
“I don’t even remember them.”
“Of course not,” Thurfian said. “You were far too young when you were taken. But does that really matter? They’re your people. Your blood.”
“The Mitth are my people now.”
“Perhaps.” Thurfian gave a little shrug. “Perhaps not.”
Thalias’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a full member of the Mitth.”
“Hardly,” Thurfian said. “You’re a merit adoptive, and a relatively new one at that. You have a long path ahead of you before your position is anything other than precarious.”
Thalias looked down at the questis. “Are you suggesting that my position with the Mitth depends on my betrayal of Thrawn?”
“Betrayal? Of course not,” Thurfian said, putting some righteous indignation into his voice. “Thrawn is a member of our family”—at least for the moment, he reminded himself silently—“and talking about him hardly qualifies as betrayal. On the contrary, not reporting any questionable activities is where betrayal would lie.”
“Then let’s make this simple,” Thalias said. “I’ve never seen him do anything questionable, illegal, or unethical. I’ve certainly never seen him do anything against the Mitth. Good enough?”
Thurfian gave a theatrical sigh. “You disappoint me, Thalias. I’d hoped you had a future with the Mitth. But if we can’t even trust you to help us keep watch on a potential danger to the family, I can’t see how we can keep you with us. But that’s your decision. I can keep watch on Thrawn myself.”
He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Starting with whatever he’s up to right now. I noticed he was talking with General Ba’kif again, so that’s probably the best place to start. Perhaps I’ll take an hour or two to look into that before I begin your rematching procedure.”
Thalias tried to hide her reaction. But it was no use. His offhanded threat to rematch her back to her old family had done the trick. He would give her the next hour to consider what life without the Mitth would be like, and then he would start the procedure.
Abruptly, she pulled out her own questis and peered at it. “All right,” she said. “You win.”
Again, Thurfian hid his smile of triumph. Really, sometimes it was just too easy. “Excellent,” he said, gesturing her back to the chair. “Though as I think further, I wonder if it would be better to head back first for our talk with General Ba’kif. You can begin your report along the way.”
“You’re right, we’re leaving,” Thalias agreed. “But not to fleet HQ.” She held up her questis. “You’re to take me instead to the Mitth homestead.”
Thurfian’s sense of triumph vanished. “What?” he asked carefully.
“You said it yourself,” she said. “I don’t have a stable position with the family. So I’ve made arrangements to remedy that.”
“How?” he asked, his blood suddenly running cold. If she denounced his interest in Thrawn to the wrong people…
No, that couldn’t be it. She couldn’t possibly know enough about the labyrinthian web woven around the upper ranks of the family. “If you think there’s anyone higher than me you can appeal to—”
“I’m not going to appeal,” she said. “I’m going to take the Trials.”
He stared at her. “The Trials?”
“Merit adoptives can ask at any time to take the Trials,” Thalias said. “If they succeed, they become Trial-born.”
“Kindly do not lecture me on my own family’s policies,” Thurfian said stiffly. “And that’s only if they succeed. If they don’t, they lose even merit adoptive status.”
“I’m aware of that,” Thalias said. There was a slight tremor in her voice, but her jaw was firmly set. “But you were going to throw me out of the family anyway.” She lifted the questis again. “I’ve petitioned the Office of the Patriarch, and the petition’s been accepted.”
“Fine,” Thurfian said between clenched teeth. Curse this woman, anyway. “I’ll give you the instructions on how to get to the homestead—”
“The Patriarch’s Office has requested that you accompany me.”
Thurfian hissed out a curse. The final spiral to his plans. She’d outmaneuvered him completely.
She…or Thrawn.
Could he have anticipated this confrontation? Certainly Thalias couldn’t have come up with such a dangerous scheme on her own. And if it was Thrawn, how had he persuaded her to risk her entire future with the Mitth for him?
Just one more reason this man needed to be taken down.
“Of course,” he said, standing up. “I wouldn’t miss it for all the riches in the Ascendancy.”
* * *
—
Che’ri had never been good at reading adult faces. But even so, she had no trouble seeing that Thrawn was surprised and concerned as he put away his questis. “Is something wrong?” she asked anxiously.
He hesitated a moment before answering. “It appears Caregiver Thalias won’t be joining us,” he said.
“Oh,” Che’ri said, looking past him at the little ship he’d brought them to. The last of the crates of supplies were just being taken aboard by the dockworkers, and he’d said they’d be leaving as soon as Thalias arrived.
Thrawn turned to gaze at the ship. “This mission is vitally important, Che’ri,” he said quietly. “Thalias didn’t say much—I gather she wasn’t free to talk openly—but it was clear she would be occupied for at least the next few days.”
“So we’re not going?” Che’ri asked, still struggling to read his expression.
“That depends on you.” He turned to look at her. “Are you willing to go with me, just the two of us, into the depths of the Chaos?”
For a moment Che’ri’s mouth and tongue and brain seemed frozen. A sky-walker never went anywhere without a shipful of people around her. That was the first rule and promise she’d been given when she first began her training. Girls like her were too rare to risk to anything less than a full warship or diplomatic cruiser. What Thrawn was asking was never done. Ever.
But he’d said it was important. Could it be important enough to break all the regular rules? “Can we do that?” she asked hesitantly.
He shrugged, a small smile touching his lips. “Physically and tactically, of course,” he said. “I can fly, you can navigate, and the ship itself is well enough armed to get us out of any trouble we’re likely to find ourselves in.”
“I meant are we going to get in trouble.”
“You, no,” he said. “Sky-walkers are effectively untouchable by any punishment. You might get a scolding, but that would be all.” He paused. “If it makes a difference, Thalias didn’t suggest that we wait for her, or that we abandon the mission completely.”
“If I don’t go, what happens?”
“Then I abandon the mission,” Thrawn said. “What would take days under the control of a sky-walker would require weeks or months of jump-by-jump travel. I can’t afford months.” His lips compressed. “Neither, I fear, can the Ascendancy.”
This game, at least, Che’ri knew way too well. An adult would make vague threats or vaguer promises, with big stuff happening either way if she didn’t run for the extra hour or skip one of her rest days or do whatever it was they wanted.
