“Very good,” Thrawn said. “Now add to that the fact that if you turn the knives over, the pattern suggests that they point toward the center like the other flatware instead of toward the table’s edge. What does that suggest?”
Ziara smiled. The structure of their own Chiss culture gave the answer to that one. “That there’s a social or political hierarchy involved,” she said. “Depending on your rank relative to the others at the table, you turn your knife inward or outward.”
“Again, that was my conclusion as well,” Thrawn said. “One final thing. Note the length of the flatware, clearly designed to deposit the food several centimeters down the snout instead of at the front.”
“Seems odd,” Ziara said. “I’d assume most species’ taste receptors would be at the front of the mouth, on the tongue or their equivalent.”
“That does seem to be the general pattern,” Thrawn said. “It makes me think that their outer rim of teeth was their traditional weapon, and the jaws developed so that they could bite into an enemy without tasting his flesh or blood.”
Ziara wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting.”
“Agreed,” Thrawn said. “But if we should ever meet them, we would have an idea of their likely tactics. Close-in weaponry like teeth and knives should translate into a preference for close-in combat, with long-distance weaponry considered secondary or even dishonorable.”
“And a rigid hierarchy with an underlying threat of violence would warn us about with whom and where we negotiate,” Ziara said, nodding. “Interesting. Okay. Where to next?”
“You want to see more?” Thrawn asked, frowning a little.
She shrugged. “We’ve come this far. Might as well make an evening of it.”
She quickly came to regret giving him such an open invitation. By the time she called a halt an hour later, her head was spinning with names, images, and tactical inferences. “Okay, this is all very interesting,” she said. “But near as I can see, almost all of it is very theoretical. Where we have the aliens’ history, you could have looked it up and backfilled your analysis to fit it.”
“I’ve already said I didn’t do that.”
“But you might have come across something when you were younger and forgotten you’d read it,” Ziara pointed out. “That’s happened to me. And where we don’t have any history, we’ll probably never know if you’re right or wrong.”
“I see,” Thrawn said, his voice suddenly subdued. “I’m…I thought this would be interesting to you. I’m sorry if I wasted your time.”
“I didn’t say that,” Ziara protested, eyeing him as a sudden idea occurred to her. “But I’m a practical person, and when I hear a new theory I like to give it a test.”
“Shall we ask the Ascendancy to declare war on someone?”
“I was thinking a little smaller,” she said. “Come on.”
She headed toward the exit. “Where are we going?” Thrawn asked as he caught up with her.
“My quarters,” she said. “I do a little wire sculpting in my spare time to relax. You can study it and see how well you can read my personal strategies and tactics.”
Thrawn was silent a couple of steps. “Are you assuming we’ll someday be at war with each other?”
“Yes, and sooner than you think,” Ziara said with a smile. “Because after you finish, we’re going to go downstairs to the dojo and go a couple of rounds.”
“I see,” Thrawn said. “Stick, or unarmed?”
Ziara gave him the choice. He chose stick.
“Okay,” Ziara said, bouncing a few experimental steps on the mat and swinging the two short sticks in her hands to loosen up her wrists. The lightweight face and chest protectors didn’t interfere with her movements, and the soft-coat sticks felt sturdy in her hands, with the same weight and balance as actual combat sticks. “And if you’ve found some recordings of my combat sessions, say so now before I call cheats on you.”
“I’ve never seen you fight,” Thrawn assured her. “You may choose when the bout is over.”
“Thank you,” Ziara said. “And that was your first—mistake!” she shouted as she leapt forward. A quick head–ribs–head combo should end the fight before he lost too much of his dignity.
Only it didn’t. Thrawn blocked all three attacks, putting his sticks up in the right spots and in the right order. Her ribs–head–elbow–feint–ribs combo didn’t get through, either. Neither did her best feint–feint–hip–ribs–head–feint–stomach.
She scowled, taking a step back to regroup and reassess. Beginner’s luck, obviously, but it was starting to become a bit worrisome. So far he was just standing there, casually blocking her attacks but launching none of his own. But that would change soon enough. Time to crank things up a notch, get an attack through, force him to counterattack or at least make him move his damn feet. She leapt forward again, slipping into a feint–rib–feint—
Only this time, on the second feint, he stopped being passive and made his move. Slipping in through the opening created by the feint, he tapped her stick farther out of line, spun in a tight circle within the gap, and brought his own stick to lightly tap the side of her head protector. Even as she tried to bring both sticks back in at him, he spun again and took a long step out of her reach.
She leapt forward, trying to get to him while his back was still turned. But he was faster, turning to face her and again blocking her double attack.
Again she backed off, taking the opportunity to gulp in a few lungfuls of air. Thrawn didn’t follow, but remained where he was.
Clearly, her preferred combat techniques weren’t working. Time to switch it up a bit. Just because she liked these tactics best didn’t mean she hadn’t been taught others. Taking one final breath, she again charged.
Only this time, instead of using the feint–attack combinations, she came straight at him, jabbing forward with both sticks, one aimed at his face the other at his chest. He blocked the first, but the second slammed into his chest protector with a thoroughly satisfying thud. She moved forward, cocking her arms to do it again.
Again, Thrawn was faster. He backed up rapidly, putting himself out of range. She took another step forward, jabbing again, and again one of the two attacks got through. One more, she decided, and she would call the match. She stepped forward—
And abruptly found herself in the midst of a flurry of flashing sticks as he leapt to the attack.
This time it was her turn to back up, cursing silently as she blocked and parried and tried to turn the attack against him. But he wasn’t giving her any opening. Her feet felt the change in the texture of the mat, warning that she was getting close to the edge.
Thrawn saw it, too. He came to a halt, allowing her to slow her own retreat before she could slam into the wall.
Another mistake. The pause was just long enough for her to take back the initiative, and once again she charged at him.
He backed up slowly, clearly once more on the defensive. But to her chagrin, her attacks were once again going nowhere as he blocked every feint and thrust.
She broke off the attack and stepped back, and for a long moment they stood facing each other. Before he lost too much of his dignity, her earlier smug thought rose back to mock her. “Is there any point to continuing?” she asked.
Thrawn shrugged. “Your choice.”
For a long moment pride and determination urged her to keep going. Common sense won out. “How?” she asked, lowering her sticks and walking up to him.