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But there was no mistaking the reason for the alarm. The main viewscreen showed two Lioaoin ships coming in toward the planet. Even as Ar’alani watched, they reached firing range and the nearest of Solitair’s orbiting defense platforms opened up with lasers and missiles.

“Security Chief,” one of the officers greeted Frangelic tensely as Ar’alani and the others came up to them. Up close, she now recognized him as a general who’d been at one of their earlier meetings, though she couldn’t recall his name. “Commodore Ar’alani; Senior Commander Thrawn.” He gestured to the displays. “As you can see, the quiet talks we’d envisioned between our two peoples have been violently interrupted.”

“Indeed,” Frangelic said grimly.

“We were afraid this would happen,” the general continued. “With our forces off defending our five outer worlds, the Lioaoi have chosen this moment for a surprise attack. You helped us once, Commodore Ar’alani. Can you also assist us in repulsing this new aggression?”

Ar’alani shook her head, feeling a sense of helplessness. The woman up there in the Creators’ Market, diligently sewing her historical clothing…“I’m sorry, General, but we can’t,” she said. “By all standard protocol, we shouldn’t even be in your situation room.”

“You are our guests, and such guests must be protected,” the general said. “If the invaders break through, you could be in the same danger as our own helpless citizens.”

“There’s little likelihood of that,” Thrawn assured him. “Your defense platforms should be more than adequate to protect you from two warships.”

“What if there are more lying in wait?” Frangelic countered. “Anything you can tell us about our attackers could spell the difference between survival and utter destruction. Please.”

For a moment, Thrawn watched the displays in silence. Ar’alani could see his eyes flicking back and forth: observing, assessing, calculating. If there was something else there, some weakness the Garwians could exploit, he would find it.

“Well?” the general prompted.

“I see two additional weaknesses,” Thrawn said. “But Commodore Ar’alani is right. This is something the Ascendancy must stand back from.”

“You helped us once,” Frangelic said. “Is not the situation here even more dire?”

Thrawn looked at Ar’alani. Back at the general. “The Lioaoi have certain tactical blind spots,” he said. “The first—”

“Just a minute,” Ar’alani interrupted him. The Garwian officers—all of them—were staring at Thrawn. None were watching the monitors. None were directing their defenses.

But then, why would they? The Lioaoin ships were standing well back from the defense platform, not moving forward, their effort apparently being put into defending themselves against the Garwian barrage.

“Please,” Frangelic said, shifting his attention to Ar’alani. “Please don’t stand in the way of Garwian survival.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” Ar’alani asked. Pulling out her comm, she keyed for the Destrama.

Silence. Not just no answer. Silence.

And now all the Garwian officers were looking at her.

“Commander Thrawn, please contact the Destrama,” she said. “There seems to be a problem with my comm.”

“Is there,” Thrawn said, his voice and face gone suddenly hard. He’d heard the silence from her comm, too. “General, kindly lift your jamming.”

“There’s no jamming,” Frangelic said quickly. “At our depth—”

“Kindly lift your jamming,” Thrawn repeated.

Neither his voice nor his face had changed. Even so, a sudden shiver ran up Ar’alani’s back. Silently, the general turned and made a gesture to one of the officers at the consoles. The other touched a pair of switches—

“—asking for terms for the Lioaoin Regime’s surrender,” a taut voice came over Ar’alani’s comm. “The Garwians are ignoring them. Commodore, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Commander,” Ar’alani said. “I can now, anyway. Stand by for orders.”

She muted the comm. “Nice,” she said to the general, putting as much frost into her voice as she could. “You claim you’re being raided by pirates and maneuver us into bending our protocols to assist. Then, once the Lioaoi have lost a critical number of ships, you launch an assault against—what? An old rival? A new competitor for trade or manufacturing contracts?”

“You speak as if the Lioaoi were innocents,” the general said loftily. “Not at all. You recall me speaking earlier of our five outer worlds? Once there were six.” His mouth opened in a grin. “Now there will be six again.”

“Or possibly seven?” Ar’alani asked.

“Possibly,” the general agreed. “There is one of theirs we’re most interested in.”

He looked at Thrawn. “More insights into our enemies’ weaknesses would have been useful. But no matter. Your earlier assistance in that regard was sufficient and much appreciated.”

Thrawn held his gaze another moment. Then, deliberately, he turned to Ar’alani. “Commodore, request permission to order the Destrama to open fire on the Garwian defense platforms.”

An uncomfortable stir ran through the aliens. “A tempting suggestion, Commander,” Ar’alani said. “But I’m afraid the protocols forbid such an action. Fully justified though it would be.”

“General, the Lioaoi are breaking off,” someone called.

“Recalled to defend their worlds, no doubt,” the general said. “A futile gesture, but at least there will be no doubt as to which of us won this day.” He cocked his head at Ar’alani. “I presume you’ll wish to depart as soon as possible?”

“Oh, we’ll depart, all right,” Ar’alani said. “And you’d best hope with all your strength that we never come back. Because if we do…let’s just say that Captain Thrawn’s insights regarding tactical blind spots aren’t limited to those of the Lioaoi.”

She took a step forward and had the minor and pointless satisfaction of seeing the general take a hasty step backward. “Remember that. All of you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

There were ten guards waiting when Thalias and Che’ri emerged from the fighter. “I greet the warriors of the Vak Combine,” Thalias called, giving their uniforms a quick once-over. They were of a similar pattern to the uniforms she’d seen at the diplomatic reception she and Thrawn had attended, but these were of a simpler and more utilitarian nature. Not a formal welcome, then, but a serious military situation. “I bring apologies from Senior Captain Thrawn, and offer recompense for his actions.”

“You said you had a message,” one of the soldiers said. “Let me have it.”

“I was instructed to put it directly into the hands of the Combine’s military leader,” Thalias said. “I’m happy to wait on that arrival, or to travel wherever he or she would like to meet.”

“No doubt you are,” the soldier said. “But I will take it.” He held out his hand, all five claws pointed upward. “Now.”

Thalias hesitated. But there was nothing she could do. Anyway, Thrawn had warned her this would probably happen. Pulling out the envelope, she handed it to him. “I presume your leaders will wish to question us about the circumstances that led to this unfortunate occurrence,” she said as he slid it into a side pocket of his jacket. “I’m at their total disposal and convenience.”