“Fire,” Thrawn said.
The gunboat’s lasers had slashed across the Springhawk instead of focusing on a single spot, a tactic that seemed odd to Thalias. Perhaps the fighter’s crew was inexperienced, or perhaps they were hoping luck and a scattergun approach would allow them to hit something vital and unprotected.
If that was their plan, it failed. Thalias could see the electrostatic barrier status board from where she was standing, and the Springhawk’s defensive sheath was holding up quite well against the attack.
Unfortunately for the attackers, Afpriuh was fully experienced and probably hadn’t relied on luck since he was eight. As the gunboat again swung around he fired a full salvo of the Springhawk’s lasers, all of them centered on the aft thruster section, all of them tracking with the target’s movement. Thalias held her breath, visualizing the focused energy tearing into and through the hull metal …
And with a burst of flame and smoke, the gunboat exploded.
Thalias blinked. That was fast. Much faster than the Springhawk’s usual battles, in fact. Apparently, Thrawn had been right not to bother with breachers and plasma spheres. The debris cloud expanded into the vacuum, and as it dissipated Thalias saw that the other two gunboats had abandoned their attack on the freighter and were now moving toward the Springhawk.
“Afpriuh, fire at will,” Thrawn ordered. “Again, limit your response to lasers.”
“Yes, sir,” Afpriuh said, and Thalias caught his tight smile as he bent over his controls. Of all the bridge officers, she’d often thought, he seemed to take the most pure joy from his job.
The Springhawk’s lasers flashed, and again, and again. The gunboats returned fire as best they could, but they’d started too far away for the range of their weapons, and their attacks were as ineffective as the first fighter’s had been. They were just starting to reach the distance where the first attack had occurred when the Springhawk’s lasers finished digging through their hulls.
And once again, the serene starry background was marred by the violence of explosions.
Thrawn waited until the twin firestorms burned out into expanding spheres of blackened and half-melted wreckage. Then he again touched his mike key. “This is Senior Captain Thrawn,” he said. “Captain Fsir, please report your status.”
“Much more promising now, Senior Captain Thrawn,” the alien’s wheezing voice came back. “My passengers and I offer our humble gratitude for your timely assistance. How may we repay you?”
“You may begin with information,” Thrawn said. “Who are your people, where do you come from, and what is your purpose here?”
“We are the Watith,” Fsir said, his voice suddenly hesitant. “We come from a system far away. May I ask why you wish its location?”
“Merely to add to my general knowledge of the Chaos,” Thrawn said. “Certainly the Chiss have no territorial ambitions beyond our borders.”
“Yet you identify yourself as an expansionary fleet.”
“The title also includes the word defense,” Thrawn pointed out. “But no matter. Tell me why you’re here.”
“A safer question,” Fsir said, his caution fading. “We came to this system to study the possibility of setting up a long-range communications relay station.”
“A triad transmitter?”
“Is that what the Chiss call it?” Fsir asked. “Oh, yes, of course—an obvious name. Three poles—triad—yes, that makes sense. At any rate, as you know if you’ve spent much time in this region, the nations here are few in number, small in size, and great in separation. The nearest relay station is controlled by the Paataatus, who never allow others to use it.”
Thalias smiled to herself. If the Paataatus were really that miserly with their triad, it made their willingness to let Thrawn use it even more of an honor than she’d thought. They must really have wanted their Nikardun oppressors eliminated.
“Our leaders thought a relay station of our own could be a good investment,” Fsir continued. “It would be available to all—for a suitable fee, of course—set up on an unclaimed world that could nevertheless support the necessary operational crew and their families.”
“Interesting,” Thrawn said. “I presume you’ve now decided to remove this system from your list?”
“Why do you say that?” Fsir asked. “Our study shows the planet is perfectly suitable for our needs.”
“Except that someone doesn’t want you here.”
“Someone—? Oh. Those fighters?” Fsir made a rude-sounding noise. “Hardly a statement of warning. They were merely a group of pirates pausing for a navigational recalibration before returning to their base. They obviously saw us as an opportunity and decided to take it.”
Thalias caught her breath. Pirates? Vagaari pirates?
“Had they succeeded in capturing us, they would have been sorely disappointed by our banquet of specialized electronic equipment and our famine of marketable goods,” Fsir said. “Though perhaps they were seeking captives. All the more reason to be grateful for your intervention.”
“You said they were pirates,” Thrawn said, and Thalias could hear the studied nonchalance in his voice. “Do you know which group they’re from?”
“Don’t misunderstand, please,” Fsir cautioned. “I don’t know for a fact that these were any raiders in particular. I simply assumed their identity and purpose because of our current proximity to the Vagaari pirate base.”
A quiet stir ran through the bridge. Thalias looked back at Thrawn, noting that the small smile she’d seen earlier was back. “Interesting,” he said. “As it happens, the Vagaari are the exact group we’re looking for.”
“Remarkable!” Fsir said. “Then we are well met, indeed. The universe has seen fit to reward you for your courage and kindness to the Watith. That is …” He paused. “May I ask what your purpose is in seeking out the Vagaari? You do not wish to join them, do you?”
“Hardly,” Thrawn assured him. “We’re here to assess whether or not they pose a continuing threat to this region.”
“Ah,” Fsir said, not sounding entirely convinced. “Well. In that case, perhaps I may offer my services as a guide to their base?”
“It would be enough to give us the coordinates,” Thrawn said. “There’s no reason you need to expose yourself to danger by leading us there yourself.”
“I would like nothing more than to avoid further danger,” Fsir said. “Unfortunately, our coordinate system likely varies greatly from that of the Chiss, and I don’t trust my directions to lead you there with accuracy. Also, to be perfectly honest, right now I think remaining in your company will be our best way of avoiding danger. There may be other pirate stragglers about, and you saw how poorly equipped we are to face such threats.”
“I understand,” Thrawn said. “I welcome your company and your guidance.”
“Thank you,” Fsir said. “We can depart as soon as is convenient for you.”
“That will be a short while yet,” Thrawn said. “Before we travel to the Vagaari base, I wish to examine the wreckage of these gunboats.”
“The—?” Fsir actually sputtered. “The wreckage? Senior Captain Thrawn, are you perhaps blind? There is no wreckage, only dust.”
“On the contrary,” Thrawn said. “We are tracking several larger pieces of debris. More than that, even small bits can be valuable. The gunboats’ violent explosions, for example, strongly suggest their weaponry included missiles as well as lasers. There may be chemical deposits that will help us learn what sort of missiles they were, including the propellant-and-explosive mix used. Fragments of their electronics might similarly offer clues as to the ships’ origin or their computer and communications systems.”