With another blast of cold gas the Springhawk braked to a halt beside the asteroid. Another carefully tuned pulse, and the cruiser had matched itself to the asteroid’s slow spin. Samakro looked at the tactical, noting that the blockade ships were still fully invested with chasing down the Vigilant.
“Full stealth mode,” Thrawn ordered.
All around them, the bridge displays and monitor boards winked red and then went dark. “We appear to have arrived undetected,” Thrawn added calmly.
Samakro took a deep breath, making one more visual sweep to make sure all nonessential systems had been locked down. “So it would appear,” he said, matching his commander’s tone. “How long do we wait?”
Thrawn looked past him at the stars now tracking slowly across the sky. “We need to allow the Vigilant to escape and the blockade ships to return to their picket positions. A few hours, no more.”
Samakro nodded. And then it would be time for Thrawn to slip over to the abandoned mining station floating halfway across the asteroid cluster.
Where they would find out if this whole gamble had been worth the effort.
The Vigilant’s sky-walker was named Ab’begh, and she was only eight.
But she had some interesting moldable play figures and some really nice colored graph markers. And she had a lot of building snaps. Way more than Che’ri had.
They were starting to play with them when Ab’begh’s momish told them to stop.
“It’s reading time, girls,” the woman said. “Put away the snaps and get your questises. Come, come, come. Toys away; questises out.”
“Do we have to?” Ab’begh asked in a whiny voice. “We want to play.”
Che’ri made a face. A whiner. Great. She hated being around whiners.
Still, Ab’begh had a point. “We just did some trips,” Che’ri spoke up. “We’re supposed to get to rest now.”
“Oh, fissis,” the momish said, wiggling her fingers like she was throwing away Che’ri’s words. “You did two trips, maybe two hours each. I’ve seen sky-walkers do ten hours at a stretch and come up smiling and ready for more.”
“But—” Ab’begh started.
“Besides, reading is resting,” the momish said. “Come on, come on—questises and chairs. Now.”
Che’ri looked at Ab’begh. If they both insisted, maybe they could talk themselves into at least another few minutes. Che’ri had started a really neat design with her snaps and wanted to finish it before she forgot where all the pieces were supposed to go.
But Ab’begh just sighed and put down her own snaps. She stood up tiredly and went to one of the chairs.
“Che’ri?” the momish said. “You, too.”
Che’ri looked at her snaps. This woman wasn’t Che’ri’s own momish. Maybe she wasn’t allowed to tell another momish’s sky-walker what she had to do.
But Che’ri had had a couple of momishes like her. Arguing with them hadn’t usually gotten her anywhere.
Besides, Ab’begh was looking at Che’ri with pleading in her eyes. Che’ri might get away with defying the momish, only to have that annoyance come back to dump on the little girl after Che’ri was gone. She’d had a couple of momishes like that, too.
Nothing to do but go along with it. Making a face, she went over to where she’d put her things, dug her questis out of her pack, and climbed into the chair next to Ab’begh’s.
She would never admit it to Thalias or anyone else, but she hated reading.
“There you go,” the momish said. Now that she’d gotten her way, she sounded a little more cheerful. They always did. “Reading is very important, you know. The more you practice, the better you get.”
“It’s not study time,” Ab’begh said. “We don’t have to study, do we?”
“It’s study time if I say it’s study time,” the momish said sternly. “Which you know perfectly well. When our ship is on a journey we never know when you’ll be called to the bridge, so we have to study when we have the chance.” She looked at Che’ri. “But since we have a guest, and her classes won’t be the same as yours, no, we’re not doing studies. But you still have to read,” she added as Ab’begh started to say something. “Whatever you want. Half an hour, and then you can play until dinnertime.”
There was a ping from the hatch. “Enter,” the momish called.
The hatch slid open, and Admiral Ar’alani stepped into the suite. “Everyone all right?” she asked.
“Do you need Ab’begh?” the momish asked.
“No, it’s all right,” Ar’alani said, holding up a hand and smiling at Ab’begh as the little girl put down her questis. “I expect the Vigilant to stay where we are for the rest of the night. If we have to go anywhere, we can do a short jump-by-jump. So, no, you girls can relax.”
She shifted her eyes to Che’ri. “I mostly came by to tell you, Che’ri, that Thrawn and the Springhawk have made it to the asteroid where they’ll be hiding for the next few hours. They’re safe, and it doesn’t look like anyone saw them.”
“Okay,” Che’ri said. She still wasn’t fully clear on what all the fancy flying had been about, but she was glad the Springhawk was safe. “Thalias is with him, right?”
“Yes, she is,” Ar’alani said, her voice sounding a little strange. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to sleep here tonight. I’ll have an extra bed brought in for you.”
“She can sleep in my bed,” Ab’begh said, sitting straight up in her chair. “It’s big enough.”
Che’ri cringed. She’d never ever had to share a bed. And with an eight-year-old? “I’d rather have my own,” she said. She looked at Ab’begh’s suddenly disappointed expression—“I kick a lot when I sleep,” she added.
“Can you put the bed in my room?” Ab’begh asked. “I—” She stopped and looked over at the momish. “I sometimes get scared,” she finished in a little voice.
Che’ri winced, feeling guilty. After talking with Thalias about nightmares…“That would work,” she said. “Sure. We can take some figures with us and play before we go to sleep.”
“Caregiver?” Ar’alani asked.
“If it’s all right with Ab’begh, it’s fine with me.” The woman actually smiled. “I remember having sleepovers when I was their age. Pretty sure I can whip up a few snacks for them, and we’ll make it an event.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Ar’alani said. “But.” She raised a warning finger. “When your caregiver says it’s time for lights-out, girls, it’s time for lights-out. If we need you, we don’t want you so tired you’ll accidentally steer us into a supernova.”
“Yes, ma’am, we will,” Ab’begh promised, her earlier excitement starting to bubble up again.
“Anything else we can do for you, Admiral?” the momish asked.
“No,” Ar’alani said. “I just wanted to let you all know what was happening. Have a good evening—” She gave both girls a pretend frown. “And get some sleep.”
The frown disappeared, she smiled again, and left.
“This is going to be fun,” Ab’begh said, bouncing a little on her chair. “It’ll be fun, right?”
“Sure,” Che’ri said.
“We’ll make sure of it,” the momish promised. “Right now, it’s still reading time. Half an hour, and the sooner you start, the sooner you’ll be done.”
“You want to read a story about tree people?” Ab’begh asked, holding her questis toward Che’ri. “There are lots of good pictures.”