And both attackers exploded.
"Whoa!" Qennto said. "What in the-?"
"They blew up," Maris breathed. "A single shot, and they just blewup."
"Don't start cheering just yet," Car'das warned. TheSpringhawk was swinging away from the expanding clouds of debris and picking up speed. "There's still the big one left."
The dizzying sweep of stars settled down as they finished their turn, and in the distance he could see the drive glow of the larger ship. "I don't suppose we could be lucky enough for it to be unarmed," Qennto said.
"Thrawn wouldn't attack an unarmed ship," Maris told him firmly.
"Why not?" Qennto growled back. "Iwould. Those fighters attacked first. That makes the whole bunch of them fair game."
"And probably dead meat," Car'das muttered.
Maris shivered but said nothing.
The other ship saw them coming, of course. Even as theSpringhawk closed to firing range, it swung partway around, and a handful of missiles streaked out. The Chiss lasers flashed in reply, and the missiles vaporized in midflight. The enemy responded by rolling ninety degrees over and launching a second salvo. This group, too, was dealt with at a safe distance. A third missile group followed, then a fourth, all destroyed en route. "Why don't they jump to lightspeed?" Maris murmured.
"I don't think they can," Car'das told her, pointing to one of the tactical displays. "Looks to me like someone took out their hyperdrive."
"When?" Qennto asked, frowning. "I don't remember hearing any firing before the fighters attacked."
"Someone had to be here to call in the news," Car'das reminded him. "Maybe he got in a lucky shot."
Whatever the reason, the other ship was definitely not getting away. TheSpringhawk continued to close the gap, and as they neared it, Car'das noticed for the first time that its hull was covered in what looked like ovoid bubbles, each roughly two meters across and three long. "What are those things?" he asked. "Qennto?"
"No idea," the other said, craning his neck. "They look kind of like tiny observation blisters. Part of the navigation system, maybe?"
"Or cabin viewports," Maris said, her voice suddenly tight. "Could it be a passenger liner?"
"What, with four clusters of missile launchers?" Qennto countered. "Not a chance."
The Chiss helmsman moved theSpringhawk alongside the alien vessel, compensating almost casually for its sluggish attempts to veer away, and nestled up against the other's hull. There was a quick stutter of dull thuds as maglocks were engaged, and Thrawn tapped a key on his command board. "Ch'tra," he called.
" 'Go,' " Car'das translated. "Looks like we're boarding."
The commander rose from his chair and turned around. "My apologies," he said, switching to Sy Bisti as he crossed to the three humans. "I hadn't intended to take you into danger this way. But the opportunity presented itself, and I needed to take it."
"That's all right, Commander," Car'das assured him. "And it didn't look like we were inthat much danger."
"As it turned out," Thrawn said. Stepping to a bank of lockers along one wall, he opened one and pulled out an armored vac suit. "Your quarters are too close to the boarding area for safety, so I'll ask you to remain here until we return."
"You're going in personally?" Maris asked, frowning.
"I command these warriors," Thrawn said, climbing into the vac suit with sure, practiced movements. "Part of my duty is to share in their danger."
Maris glanced at Qennto. "Be careful," she said, sounding almost embarrassed.
Thrawn gave her a small smile. "Don't worry," he said. Slapping the final seal closed, he pulled a helmet and large handgun from the locker. "The vessel is most likely severely undercrewed, and Chiss warriors are the best there are. I'll return soon."
Car'das had wondered at first why none of the rest of the bridge crew had joined with Thrawn in the boarding party, the sounds of which they could occasionally hear wafting along the corridors and through the open door. It was soon clear, though, that they weren't just sitting around waiting, but were actively engaged in some project of their own.
It was only as the melee was winding down that he was able to piece together a few recognizable snatches of conversation and figure out what that project had been. Using theSpringhawk 's sensors, they'd been assisting the boarders in tracking down enemy combatants, whether hiding or gathering together for an ambush. Even charging pirate-style onto an enemy vessel, Commander Thrawn made use of all available resources.
It took less than an hour for the Chiss to secure the enemy vessel. Another two hours went by, though, before one of the warriors came to the bridge with instructions to bring the humans aboard.
Car'das hadn't traveled very much before hooking up with Qennto and Maris. But most of his recent travel had been to the seedier parts of the Republic, and as he stepped into the boarding tunnel he was confident he could handle anything they found at the other end.
He was wrong.
The vessel itself was bad enough. Dank and dirty, its entire interior showed signs of multiple repairs done in a hasty and careless manner, and the mixture of odors swirling through its corridors made his nose itch. Worse than that were the dozens of blast points and scorch marks on the walls and ceilings, mute reminders of the short but vicious battle that had just taken place.
Worst of all were the bodies.
Car'das had seen bodies before, but only the serene and neatly laid-out ones he'd encountered at funerals. Never before had he seen bodies haphazardly stretched out wherever the Chiss weapons had thrown them, twisted into whatever grotesque contortions their own death throes had sculpted for them. He winced as the Chiss warrior led them through various clumps of the dead, not wanting to look at them but forced to do so if he didn't want to step on them, hoping desperately that he didn't completely shame himself by getting sick.
"Relax, kid," Qennto's voice muttered at his side as they reached yet another scattering of corpses. "They're just bodies. They can't hurt you."
"I know that," Car'das growled, throwing a surreptitious look at Maris. Even she, with all her genteel upbringing and idealistic sensitivity, was doing better with this than he was.
Ahead, a door opened, and Thrawn stepped into the corridor. He was still wearing his vac suit, but the helmet now hung on a fastener on his left hip. "Come," he called, beckoning. "I want to show you something."