He stopped. Thalias’s mouth, he noted, was hanging slightly open. “That’s a … terrifying thought,” she said.
“Isn’t it?” Samakro agreed soberly. “Anyway, if our analysis is true, this will be our chance to finally make an end to the whole Nikardun threat.”
“Which is what we’re supposed to be doing out here anyway,” Thalias said, her eyes narrowed in thought.
“Exactly,” Samakro said. “One of those serendipitous things that always seem to fall across Thrawn’s path.” He gestured toward the nav station. “About time for Che’ri to come out of Third Sight, isn’t it?”
Thalias seemed to shake herself. “Oh. Yes. Thank you.” Nodding to him, she crossed to the nav station and leaned over Che’ri’s shoulder. Samakro couldn’t hear what she said to the girl, but there was a sudden half-seen movement. A moment later, Thalias stepped back, holding the girl’s hand and helping her out of the chair.
“Welcome back,” Samakro said as the two of them reached him. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” Che’ri said, frowning a little. “I didn’t really go anywhere.”
“It’s a figure of speech,” Samakro said. “I believe you and your caregiver are on for some food and rest now.”
“Unless you need me,” Che’ri offered. “Lieutenant Commander Azmordi told me we’re only a few hours from where we’re going.”
Samakro flicked a glance at Thalias. She wasn’t saying anything, but the look in her eye told him clearly that the correct answer was an emphatic no. “That’s true,” he said to Che’ri. “But you’ve already put in a full day’s work, and you need rest as much as anybody else. We’ll go jump-by-jump for a bit, and then you can bring us the rest of the way in. Okay?”
“Okay.” Che’ri looked up at Thalias. “What are we going to eat?”
“That’s a surprise,” Thalias said, smiling at her. “But you’ll like it—I promise. Good evening, Mid Captain.”
“Good evening, Caregiver; Sky-walker.”
They walked past him, Che’ri making some comment about how she’d know what was cooking before they even got through the hatch to their suite. Then they were gone, the bridge hatch closing behind them.
Samakro turned back. “Let’s get back to hyperspace, Commander Azmordi,” he ordered. “Best jump-by-jump you can do without wrapping us around a star or asteroid.”
“Yes, sir,” Azmordi said, flashing Samakro a smile before turning back to his board.
Samakro settled back in his chair, feeling a grim satisfaction. The story he’d spun for Thalias was a complete soap bubble, of course—there was no way Yiv would have set up in the middle of nowhere that way, especially not if he had to spend the resources to burn it to bedrock first.
But Thalias had originally come aboard the Springhawk as a spy. She’d never fully admitted it, and would probably deny it vehemently if she was asked. But Samakro had never had any doubts.
And now he’d given her a plausible-sounding story, with Thrawn’s name attached. A story that, when it was proved false, would probably be used by Thrawn’s enemies to chastise him for ridiculous knee-jerk thinking.
A story that could only have come from her.
The trap was laid. Thalias was a spy … and when the story surfaced in the Syndicure, he would finally be able to prove it.
Thurfian had just put the finishing touches on the latest agreement when, with perfect timing, Speaker Thyklo summoned him to her office.
“Syndic Prime,” Thyklo greeted him gravely. “I wanted to know the status of your discussions with the Krovi.”
“They’re finished, Speaker,” Thurfian said.
Thyklo’s eyebrows went up. “Already?”
“Already,” Thurfian confirmed. “We’re going to supply them with enough transports for their projected harvest overage in return for one percent of that overage.”
“Only one?” Thyklo asked, the eyebrows going back down. “I assumed you’d be able to do a bit better than that.”
“I decided to accept current losses in return for future gains,” Thurfian said. “This way we’ll have their gratitude to tap into when it’ll be most useful to us.”
“Perhaps,” Thyklo said. “Still, I’ve often found gratitude to be a currency that may or may not hold its value.”
“In this case, I think it will,” Thurfian said. “But that’s really just the surface stratagem, the one everybody’s supposed to see. More important to me is the fact that the Stybla are also helping the Krovi, and having our people there should give us some insights into the Stybla transport system. If we can learn how to match their efficiency, it will pay off immensely for us in the future.”
“Interesting approach,” Thyklo said thoughtfully. “Nicely layered, and definitely a valuable goal if you can pull it off.” Her expression hardened. “Just make sure your spies aren’t caught.”
“They never are,” Thurfian assured her.
“And make sure they don’t push or prod or do anything else that could be seen as aggressive,” the Speaker continued. “The Stybla may be mostly shippers and merchants now, but in the old days … well, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Thurfian said, keeping the flicker of contempt out of his voice. Like everyone else in the Ascendancy, he knew the legends of the Stybla and their ancient fame and glory. In his opinion, a family that cared so little about power that they simply gave it away deserved every bit of the obscurity they got. “It will just be passive observation and information gathering. Nothing more blatant.”
“Good,” Thyklo said. “What about the Irizi? Weren’t they also trying to work a deal with the Krovi?”
“They were,” Thurfian said. “But I spoke with Syndic Zistalmu, and he’s agreed to step aside and let us take this one.”
“In return for …?”
“In return, we’re giving them free rein to work with the Boadil on their new Rentor defense platform.”
“Which we didn’t want to be bothered with anyway,” Thyklo said nodding. “Very good, Syndic Prime. Adroitly done.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Briefly, Thurfian wondered if the Speaker would be so complimentary if she knew Zistalmu’s cooperation was largely a result of the fact that he and Thurfian were working together to take down Thrawn. Probably not. “Now that the Krovi discussions are out of the way, I’ll be meeting with two of the Csap syndics this afternoon to discuss their proposed Dioya building project.”
“Excellent,” Thyklo said. She cocked her head slightly. “I have to say, Thurfian, that the Patriarch had some reservations about my elevating you to Syndic Prime. But you’re well on the way to proving even to him that I made the right decision.”
“You honor me, Speaker,” Thurfian said. “I hope you’ll never be disappointed in my work. I assume you’ll have something else ready for me when I’m finished with the Csap?”
“Actually, I have one now, if you want to take it with you,” Thyklo said, her voice sober as she tapped her questis and sent him a file. “This one’s an internal matter. Two of your fellow syndics are engaged in some kind of feud, and while it’s still at a low level I want it stopped before it spills out into the Syndicure.”
Thurfian nodded as he glanced at the first page. Unfortunately, internal squabbles were all too common among the Aristocra, and they could be more detrimental to a family than any of the more visible interfamily rivalries. “I’ll deal with it, Speaker,” he said.
“Privately, of course,” Thyklo reminded him. “And now I’ll let you get back to your work. Good day, Syndic Prime. Be sure to offer my greetings to the Csap.”