She frowned, taking another look at the way the circles were laid out. It was hard to tell age or gender, but—
“You can see that they present themselves in a specific pattern,” Uingali said softly as their group approached the outer circle. “Inward from the outer edge are the younger males, then the older males, then the older females, followed by the younger females and children. The Magys sits in the center.”
“The tactics of desperation,” Thrawn said thoughtfully. “Interesting.”
“What do you mean?” Thalias asked.
“The outer rim consists of those who can fight and best defend the others,” Thrawn explained. “They’re followed by the next best at defense, the older males, should the first line fall. Then the females, with those most expendable protecting those of child-bearing capability. Then the children, and finally the Magys.”
“Who will be killed only when there’s no one left for her to lead,” Samakro muttered.
“As I said: the tactics of desperation,” Thrawn said. “I assume the Magys expects us?”
Before Uingali could answer, the two young males closest to the Chiss on the outer circle stood up and stepped close to the ones on either side, opening up a narrow space between them. One by one, the pairs farther inward also stood and moved aside until they had formed an open path to the center.
“I believe the Magys is inviting me in,” Thrawn said. He started forward—
“Another moment,” Uingali said, holding a cautioning hand in front of him. Two of the children from the center were on the move, standing and walking out through the path the others had created. They passed through to the outer rim and moved to the sides, again clearing the way.
“They have made space for you in front of the Magys,” Uingali continued. “Now you may go in.”
Thrawn nodded and continued forward. Thalias watched him go, feeling the weight easing from her shoulders. Certainly Thrawn would do a much better job than she would. Briefly, she wondered if she would be able to hear the conversation from where she and the others stood. Not that it really mattered—
“No!” a crackly voice bit out the Taarja word.
Thrawn stopped. “I am Senior Captain Thrawn of the Chiss Asce—”
“No,” the voice said again. This time, Thalias could see that it was the Magys who had spoken. “Not you.” The alien lifted a hand.
And to Thalias’s surprise and horror she pointed straight at her. “That one,” the Magys said. “That one only.”
Thrawn glanced over his shoulder to see who the Magys was pointing at, then turned back. “She is not prepared to speak with you,” he said. “Her language skills are inadequate to the task.”
“That one only,” the Magys repeated.
Thrawn hesitated, then turned around. “Thalias?” he asked.
Thalias took a deep breath, the full weight of the responsibility she’d hoped to avoid crashing down again on her shoulders. She wasn’t ready for this.
And yet …
Back in Boropacc, when Uingali first proposed she talk to the aliens, the suddenness of the request had all but frozen her brain. But somehow, in the intervening four hours, her mind had worked through much of that shock and all of the crippling fear.
She still felt wholly inadequate. But now she was at least willing to try.
She took a deep breath. “All right,” she said, starting forward. “I’ll do it.”
Thrawn stayed where he was, watching as she approached. “You don’t have to do this,” he said quietly as she reached him. “This isn’t your responsibility. This isn’t our responsibility.”
“I know,” Thalias said. She tried to smile reassuringly but was pretty sure she just managed to look scared. “But I have to try.”
“I understand,” he said, and she thought she saw a hint of approval in his eyes. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Thank you,” she said, and started toward the aliens. It was a comforting offer, and she had no doubt it was sincere.
But Thrawn would be out here, and Thalias would be in there, and there would really be no chance for him to help or even offer advice. For the moment, at least, it was all on her. She would have to do the talking, the listening, and the observing.
She reached the gap in the circles. Bracing herself, she headed in.
The path was narrow, and Thalias’s shoulders brushed each of the flanking aliens as she passed. She winced at each touch, wishing they would take the hint and move farther apart, wondering if she should turn sideways and try to edge her way through.
But none of the aliens were moving, and she had a strong feeling that turning to avoid them would be seen as weakness or insult or both. Forcing herself to continue, still cringing at each small bump, she reached the center. The Magys had meanwhile lowered her gaze to the open spot in front of her where the two children had been sitting.
Thalias reached the spot and lowered herself to the floor. “Good day to you,” she said in Taarja, trying to cross her legs in the same way as the alien female. It wasn’t easy—Chiss knees didn’t bend quite as far as the aliens’ did—but she managed it. “My name is Thalias. What’s yours?”
“I am the Magys,” the woman said, looking up. Her Taarja was heavily accented and with a lot of the same pronunciation and grammar problems Thalias remembered working through during her own first months of instruction in that language. Did that mean these aliens didn’t have cause to use trade languages very much?
“I see,” Thalias said. So the woman didn’t have a name, but only a title? Or did they simply not give their names to strangers? “My people are the Chiss. May I ask what you call yourselves?”
“I am the Magys. We are the people.”
So they didn’t give out even their species name. So much for Thalias’s vague hope of connecting with them on a more personal level. “I’m told your world has suffered a great deal of devastation. We came here hoping we can help.”
“How?” the Magys demanded. “Do you bring back our cities? Do you bring back our people? Do you bring back our children?”
Thalias winced. “Some things are beyond anyone’s power to change,” she admitted.
“Then do not speak of help.” The Magys opened her mouth wide, and Thalias saw now that the two jutting sections of jaw each came with its own tongue. “The cities are fallen. The people are lost. Our time is ended.” She closed her mouth and again lowered her head. “All that remains is the final hope, and for me and my remnant to join our fathers, mothers, and children.”
Thalias looked down at her hands, noticing to her surprise that they’d clenched into fists. She hadn’t realized her reaction to the Magys’s outburst had been so intense. “I understand you’re angry and fearful,” she said, forcing her hands to relax. “But you must not give up hope for your people.”
“Are your children dead?” the Magys shot back. “Are your father and your mother dead? Then do not lecture on hope for the people.”
“I have no children,” Thalias murmured, her mind flicking back to Syndic Thurfian’s efforts a few months back to make her betray Thrawn, and his mocking references to her blood family before her adoption into the Mitth. “And I never knew my father and mother. What I do know is that our world, too, was once destroyed.”
The Magys spat something, both tongues flicking out with the word. “You lie,” she said. “Destroyed is destroyed. If it was truly gone, no one would be left to speak of it. You would not be left to speak of it.”