But as one of the other panel members had already said, that was exactly what a guilty person would also say. Unfortunately, too many cadets in the past had gamed the system by secretly running practice sessions with their upcoming test parameters, a cheat the instructors had countered by making sure no simulations could ever be exactly rerun. That built-in limitation meant that Thrawn couldn’t repeat his technique and prove his innocence.
Presumably, the instructors could dig into the programming and change that. But it would take a lot of time, and apparently no one thought a single cadet was worth that much effort.
Mentally, Ziara shook her head. The other part of the problem was that the records of the exercise were limited to the points of view of the three attacking patrol ships. One of the records had gone blank at the wrong moment, showing nothing of the climactic encounter, while the other two simply showed Thrawn’s patrol ship vanishing for several crucial seconds.
A practical cloaking device had been a dream of Defense Force scientists for generations. It was unlikely that a cadet simulation would have made that elusive breakthrough. At least, not without an illegal tweaking of the programming.
And yet…
Ziara studied Thrawn’s face. He’d explained his tactics to the board at least twice, and they still didn’t believe him. Now, with nothing left for him to say, he’d taken refuge in silence. Ziara might have expected to find defiance or anger there, but she could see neither. He stood alone, without even his family to support him.
In the meantime, Colonel Wevary had asked Ziara a question.
“I have nothing to say,” she said. She looked at Thrawn again.
And suddenly an odd thought occurred to her. Something she’d glimpsed in Thrawn’s record, the story about how he’d risen from an obscure family to gain an appointment to Taharim…
“For the moment,” she added quickly. “If I may beg the board’s indulgence, I would like to take the luncheon break to again consider the situation and the evidence.”
“Nonsense,” one of the other board members scoffed. “You’ve seen the evidence—”
“Given the lateness of the morning,” Wevary interrupted calmly, “I see no reason why we can’t postpone a decision until after midday. We’ll meet again in one and a half hours.”
He tapped the polished stone with his fingertips and stood up. The others followed suit, and they filed silently from the room. None of them, Ziara noted, gave either her or Thrawn a second look.
Except Colonel Wevary. The last one out, he paused beside Ziara’s chair—
“I don’t appreciate stalling tactics, Ziara,” he murmured, a hard look in his eyes. “You’d damn well better have something when we reconvene.”
“Understood, sir,” Ziara murmured back.
He gave her a microscopic nod and followed the others from the room.
Leaving Ziara and Thrawn alone.
“I appreciate your efforts,” Thrawn said quietly, his eyes still on the colonel’s empty place at the table. “But you can see they’ve already made up their minds. Your action does nothing but risk their displeasure, and possibly alienate you from your family.”
“If I were you, I’d worry more about your family than mine,” Ziara said tartly. “Speaking of whom, why isn’t your rep here?”
Thrawn gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. I suspect they don’t like one of their merit adoptives being attached to a scandal.”
“No family does,” Ziara said, frowning. He was right about that, of course.
But even merit adoptives counted as part of the family and, as such, were to be guarded and defended. If the Mitth were standing back from Thrawn at such a crucial moment, there had to be something else going on. “Meanwhile, Colonel Wevary called luncheon,” she reminded him as she stood up. “I’m going to get something to eat. You should do the same.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat something anyway.” Ziara hesitated, but it was too good a chance to pass up. “That way, if they kick you out, you’ll at least have had one more free meal.”
He looked at her, and for a moment she thought he was going to lash out at her insensitivity. Then, to her relief, he smiled. “Indeed,” he said. “You have an eminently tactical mind, Senior Cadet.”
“I try,” Ziara said. “Make it a good meal, and don’t be late getting back.” She gave him a nod and headed out.
But she didn’t go to the mess hall. Instead, she found an empty classroom a few doors down and slipped inside.
An eminently tactical mind, Thrawn had said. Others had told her the same thing, and Ziara had never found a reason to disagree with them.
Time to find out if all of them were right.
The receptionist answered on the third buzz. “General Ba’kif’s office,” he announced.
“My name is Senior Cadet Irizi’ar’alani,” Ziara said. “Please ask the general if he can spare a few minutes of his time.
“Tell him it concerns Cadet Mitth’raw’nuru.”
Colonel Wevary and the others filed into the hearing room precisely one and a half hours after they left it. Neither the officers nor the Irizi rep looked at the two cadets as they seated themselves.
Which made the suddenly stunned expressions on all four faces all the more amusing when they belatedly spotted the newcomer sitting beside Ziara. “General Ba’kif?” Colonel Wevary said with a sort of explosive gulp. “I—excuse me, sir. I wasn’t informed of your arrival.”
“That’s all right, Colonel,” Ba’kif said, giving each of the men at the table a quick look. The other two officers were as unprepared as Wevary to find a field-rank officer in their midst, but their surprise was rapidly turning to proper respect.
The Irizi’s surprise, in contrast, was quickly turning to suspicion. Clearly, he’d had his own look at Thrawn’s history and suspected Ba’kif was here for a cover-up.
“I understand Cadet Mitth’raw’nuru is under suspicion of cheating,” Ba’kif continued, turning back to Wevary. “I think Cadet Ziara and I may have a way to resolve the issue.”
“With all due respect, General, we’ve examined all the evidence,” Wevary said, some stiffness creeping into his deference. “The exercise cannot be repeated with the same parameters as were in place when he took it, and he claims that without those parameters he cannot duplicate his success.”
“I understand,” Ba’kif said. “But there are other ways.”
“I hope you’re not going to suggest we reprogram the simulator,” one of the other officers put in. “The safeguards that were put in to prevent cadets from doing that very thing would take weeks to unravel.”
“No, I’m not suggesting that,” Ba’kif assured him. “I presume, Colonel, that you have all the relevant exercise parameters?”
“Yes, sir,” Wevary said. “But as I said—”
“A moment,” Ba’kif said, turning to Thrawn. “Cadet Thrawn, you’ve logged two hundred hours on the patrol craft simulator. Are you ready to try the real thing?”
Thrawn’s eyes darted to Ziara, back to Ba’kif. “Yes, sir, I am.”
“Just a minute,” the Irizi cut in. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“I should think that was obvious,” Ba’kif said. “The danger inherent in teaching via simulator is that if the simulation diverges from reality, we may not notice until too late.” He waved a hand at Thrawn. “We have here an opportunity to compare the simulation with reality, and we’re going to take advantage of it.”
“Taharim Academy is under Colonel Wevary’s authority,” the Irizi insisted.
“Indeed it is.” Ba’kif turned to Wevary. “Colonel?”