“Councilor Lakuviv—”
“But what I needed in order to do that,” Lakuviv said, nodding toward the decorative pendant around Lakooni’s neck, “was a real-time recording of the rolling authorization codes with which you begin and end all orders and directives.” He paused. “Such as the order to seal our warships against non-Xodlak.”
For a handful of heartbeats Lakooni stared at him in taut silence. “What order did you give, Councilor?” she said at last, her voice dark.
“I already told you,” Lakuviv said. “I called—rather, you, Patriel Lakooni, called—for officers and warriors to respond to a family emergency situation on Celwis. From the Coduyo experience thirty years ago I estimate four days to gather all the personnel we need, plus a maximum of two more to get the ships ready to go. Six days, and they’ll be on their way to the Agbui mining world.”
“No,” Lakooni said flatly. “You’ll take me to a secure comm—now—so I can countermand—”
She broke off, freezing in place, her eyes again going wide at the sight of the charric gripped in Lakuviv’s hand and pointed at her. “Are you insane?” she breathed.
“You’ve told your office you’re going to your Fissure Lake retreat,” Lakuviv said, fighting the trembling in his hand as he stepped forward and took her comm from her belt. And now it was too late to back down. “You’ll be my guest here instead. By the time anyone wonders why you haven’t checked in, the operation will be under way.”
“You’ll lose everything for this,” Lakooni bit out. “Your position, your family, your freedom, possibly your life. You have one chance—one—to end this before it’s too late.”
“The Patriarch himself will thank me when the mines become ours,” Lakuviv said. “It’s not too late for you to join in. There are riches and glory and honor to be had, Patriel Lakooni, for us and the family—”
“No,” Lakooni cut him off. “If you want to indulge in this insanity, you’ll do it alone.”
“As you wish.” Lakuviv opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, looking both ways to confirm they were alone. “This way, please. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in my private suite for the next few days. I’ve already set it up for you.”
With one final ice-edged look, she stepped from the office and turned in the indicated direction. Lakuviv stayed close behind her, his hand shaking openly now. Great rewards emerge like gloriosi from the silken sheaths of great risks: Haplif’s words echoed through his mind. The risk here was indeed great.
But the rewards would be far, far greater.
“The last of the plasma fluid’s been transferred aboard and the tanks sealed,” Apros reported, his voice nearly inaudible above the grinding hum of the weapons bay lifters. “There are three more breachers to be loaded, and that’ll be it.”
“Good,” Lakinda said, looking at her chrono. Supreme Admiral Ja’fosk wanted the Grayshrike to be on its way as soon as the rearming and reprovisioning was complete, which should now be another hour at the most. Thrawn had been told via triad that Lakinda was on her way, but given that the Springhawk was far out of range of return communication there was no way of knowing if he’d received the message.
And that could be a problem. Thrawn had transmitted his proposed search pattern to Naporar when he left Paataatus space ten days ago, but there were any number of situations that could have forced him off that path. Lakinda wouldn’t know for sure until she arrived at the system that was her best estimate for a rendezvous. If the Springhawk wasn’t there and wasn’t within ship-to-ship comm range, she would have to start her own search pattern and hope she could track him down.
It would help if Thrawn could persuade the Paataatus to relay a message back to the Ascendancy with their own triad transmitter. But that further assumed the aliens were still feeling kindly enough toward him to allow it, and Lakinda couldn’t afford to rely on that.
Which led directly to a more ominous unknown. Lakinda had read Thrawn’s brief report on his encounter with the Paataatus, and she could understand the aliens being grateful for getting the last remaining Nikardun threat off their backs. But in her experience, gratitude between bitter enemies didn’t last longer than a good dinner party. Once she passed their territory, they would be at her back. Not the kind of tactical position she liked to be in.
A tone from her comm interrupted her musings, and she keyed it on. “Senior Captain Lakinda.”
“This is Lieutenant Commander Lakwurn; hyperdrive tech,” an unfamiliar and hesitant voice came over the speaker. “I have a—well, an unusual request that’s just been handed to me. May I have permission to come to the bridge?”
Lakinda looked at her office’s bridge monitor. Sky-walker Bet’nih was at the navigation station, with Caregiver Soomret standing behind her. Their presence meant no non-bridge personnel were permitted. “Where are you?” she asked Lakwurn.
“Hyperdrive Two, ma’am.”
“I’ll be right there,” Lakinda said, standing up. One of the senior officers needed to check the hyperdrive before they left anyway. This would save Apros or Ovinon a trip.
The hyperdrive chamber was a buzz of activity when Lakinda arrived, with the techs and operators running through the usual preflight tests. A young man was fidgeting near the entrance, a small box in one hand and his comm in the other. He was frowning at the latter, she noticed as she approached. “Lieutenant Commander Lakwurn?” she asked.
“Yes, Senior Captain,” he said with the slight breathlessness of someone unaccustomed to speaking directly with the ship’s commander. “My apologies for dragging you all the way down here, ma’am.”
“Not a problem,” Lakinda said. “You said you had a request?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lakwurn said. “I don’t, exactly, but—” He thrust out the box. “Here, ma’am. One of the HQ personnel sent this up with instructions for me to give it to one of the Springhawk’s officers when we rendezvoused with them, which he would then give to Senior Captain Thrawn. But since this came in—” He held up his comm with a sort of helpless look on his face. “I hoped you’d be willing to give it to Senior Captain Thrawn for me.”
“What is it?” she asked, taking the box. It wasn’t sealed, she noted, which suggested it wasn’t too personal. Besides, it was aboard her ship, which gave her every right to open it. Working her fingers under the edge of the lid, she pulled it off.
Inside, nestled inside a wad of padding, was a striking brooch made of intertwined metal wires. “This is for Senior Captain Thrawn?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Lakwurn said, sounding a little awed as he gazed into the box. Clearly, he hadn’t opened it himself. “That’s … non-regulation, isn’t it?”
Lakinda had to smile at that. “Decidedly so, Lieutenant Commander.” She replaced the lid and offered the box back. “But I don’t see the problem. Is there some reason you can’t deliver this to him yourself?”
“But—” he waved his comm again. “I have to leave. Don’t I?”
Lakinda frowned. “What are you talking about?”