“No doubt,” Ar’alani agreed. “I simply refer to the hierarchy of goals and duties.”
“Even within the families,” Wutroow put in. “I imagine you treat blood differently from cousins, ranking distants, Trial-borns, and merit adoptives.”
“Thank you for your statement of the obvious, Senior Captain,” the Clarr said acidly. “But you weren’t brought here for a discussion of family relationships. You were brought here to explain why Captain Thrawn was permitted to disobey a direct order from his superior without suffering any consequences for his actions.”
“Forgive me, Syndic,” Wutroow said before Ar’alani could answer, “but I have a question.”
“Admiral Ar’alani, kindly inform your first officer that she’s here to answer questions, not ask them,” the Clarr snapped.
“Again, forgive me, Syndic,” Wutroow said doggedly, “but my question has a direct bearing on Captain Thrawn’s actions.”
The Clarr started to speak, hesitated, then pursed his lips. “Very well,” he said. “But I warn you, Captain, that I’m not in the mood for frivolous deflection.”
“Neither am I, Syndic,” Wutroow said. “As has been established, the reason Captain Thrawn moved the Springhawk away from Admiral Ar’alani’s force was to draw the ambush to himself and give the rest of the ships time to adjust and counterattack. My question is this: Why was the force ambushed so quickly and completely?”
“Because the Paataatus knew that their actions against the Ascendancy would naturally invite reprisals,” the Clarr said. “Especially if they were the ones behind the Csilla attack. I warned you about frivolous questions—”
“But why there?” Wutroow persisted. “Why that particular spot? Because they were very clearly expecting us.”
“You sound as if you already know the answer,” the Kiwu said. “Why don’t you tell us?”
“Thank you,” Wutroow said, inclining her head to him. “I’ve obtained a detailed report of the mission the Syndicure sent to the Paataatus shortly after they were identified as the ones pressing against our flank. The conversations were brief—”
“We’ve all read the report,” the Clarr interrupted. “Get on with it.”
“Yes, Syndic,” Wutroow said. There was no trace of a smile on her face, Ar’alani noted—Wutroow knew better than to even look like she might be mocking any of the Aristocra—but there was a subtle look in her eye that promised this was going to be good. “As the discussions ended and the emissaries returned to their ship, one of them said to the Paataatus delegation—” Wutroow paused and peered at her questis. “—and I quote: ‘The next time you see Chiss ships come toward you through those stars, they’ll be bringing your utter destruction.’ ” She looked up. “Do I need to identify the direction that emissary was pointing?”
“Nonsense,” the Ufsa bit out. “No diplomat would do anything so foolish.”
“Apparently one of them did,” Wutroow said. “Had Admiral Ar’alani known about that, of course, she would certainly have chosen a different attack vector. But she didn’t know.”
“And under those circumstances,” Ar’alani added, picking up on Wutroow’s opening, “I’m sure you recognize that Captain Thrawn’s actions were both necessary and proper.”
“Perhaps,” the Clarr said. His voice and face still weren’t conceding the point, but his earlier confidence had definitely cooled. “Interesting. Thank you for your time, Admiral; Captain. You’re dismissed. We’ll call you back after we’ve looked into this matter further.”
“Yes, Syndic,” Ar’alani said, standing up. “One other thing. I fully believe that this attack is the last demonstration we’ll need to launch against the Paataatus. Their diplomats seem fully committed to withdrawing to their borders and leaving the Ascendancy strictly alone. If that makes a difference to your deliberations.”
“Thank you,” the Clarr said again. “Good day.”
“They won’t, of course,” Wutroow said as the two women retraced their steps down the long corridor. “Call us back, I mean. Once they figure out what happened, the last thing they’ll want is to draw more attention to such a blunder.”
“Agreed,” Ar’alani said. “So is that story actually true?”
“Absolutely.” Wutroow smiled. “Bluffing an enemy in combat sometimes works. Bluffing the Aristocra doesn’t. No, one of the emissaries was actually stupid enough to stand there and point out our optimal attack vector.”
“You got this from someone in your family, I assume?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Wutroow confirmed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you the specifics.”
“I wasn’t going to ask,” Ar’alani assured her. “I assume leaking it to you had to do with some larger stakes of family politics, and not just getting Thrawn off the hook?”
“No, that was just a fortunate side effect.” Wutroow gave Ar’alani a sideways look. “I note you didn’t credit Thrawn with that prediction of future Paataatus inaction.”
Ar’alani felt her nose wrinkle. Normally, she hated the common practice of one officer taking credit for another’s achievements or ideas. But in this case…“I’ll make sure to correct the record in a year or two, assuming the prediction works out,” she said. “Today I don’t think it would have gone over well.”
“But you wanted to get it on the record,” Wutroow said, nodding. “And this was your best way of doing that. I guess you never realize how important family connections and pipelines are until you lose them.”
“No, you don’t,” Ar’alani said, feeling an old and distant sense of loss. “So enjoy it while you can.”
“What, me?” Wutroow gave a small laugh. “I appreciate the compliment, Admiral. But there’s no way I’ll ever make flag rank.”
“You never know, Captain,” Ar’alani said. “You really never know.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Che’ri came out of Third Sight with slightly bleary eyes, a horrible tiredness, and a massive headache. It felt like an overload spell starting to come on.
She hoped desperately it wasn’t an overload spell.
“We’re here,” someone said.
Che’ri turned her head, careful not to move it too quickly. Senior Captain Thrawn was seated in the command chair, with Mid Captain Samakro on his left and Thalias on his right.
That was new. Most of Che’ri’s momishes had walked her to and from the bridge but stayed in the suite while she was on duty. She’d always assumed they simply weren’t allowed inside.
Maybe they all could have stayed if they’d wanted to, and just didn’t want to. Or maybe Thalias was special because she’d been a sky-walker.
Thrawn and Samakro were looking at a planet centered in the main viewport.
Thalias was looking at Che’ri.
Quickly, Che’ri turned back to her controls, the sudden movement hammering an extra jolt of pain into her head. Never show weakness, she’d been warned over and over again. A sky-walker never shows weakness. She’s always ready to continue on, cheerfully and efficiently, making one more journey, and one more after that, until her captain allows her to rest.
“No energy emissions,” the woman at the sensor station called. “No masses of refined metal, no indications of life activities. Planet seems dead.”
“Not surprising, given the environment,” Samakro said. “Scratch one more. On to the next system?”
There was a pause. Che’ri kept staring at the controls in front of her, hoping Thrawn would say no.
But she was sure he would say yes. No one had told her what this journey was all about, but they seemed to be looking for something important. A captain like Thrawn wouldn’t want to waste any time.