“It doesn’t sound like the Expansionary Defense Fleet was invited,” Samakro pointed out.
“Do you care?” Thrawn asked.
Samakro looked at Apros. Command officers abandoning their ships … “Not really.”
“Neither do I,” Thrawn said. “Mid Captain Apros?”
“I’m not sure,” Apros said, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. “Probably eight or nine.”
“Make it nine,” Thrawn said. “Mid Captain Samakro?”
“Assuming you also want to bring the freighter, we should be able to handle it plus five gunboats.”
“I agree,” Thrawn said. “We’ll leave the pair still heading for the planet and the two that Lieutenant Commander Laknym hit with his plasma spheres. That gives us fourteen in good shape. Mid Captain Apros, you’ll return to the Grayshrike at once to oversee your part of the anchoring operation and to prepare your ship for departure.”
“Yes, sir,” Apros said, tapping on his questis. Samakro beat him to the punch, getting his own order logged before Apros finished with his. “Orders logged and my people on it.” A brief and slightly pained expression flickered across Apros’s face. “One more thing, Senior Captain, if I may.” He dug into a pocket and pulled out a small, cloth-wrapped item, which he set on the table in front of Thrawn. “I was asked to give you this, sir.”
“What is it?” Samakro asked, craning his neck as Thrawn unwrapped it.
“A piece of jewelry,” Thrawn said, sounding bemused. He held it up, and Samakro saw that it was a delicate brooch made of interlocked metal threads.
“There’s a note with it,” Apros said, pointing to the data cylinder nestled against the side of the brooch. “My apologies, sir—with everything that’s happened today I almost forgot. It was given to a Xodlak rancher, sent to another family member on Naporar, then on to Senior Captain Lakinda.”
“Who entrusted it to you,” Thrawn said, setting down the brooch and slipping the cylinder into his questis.
“The rancher obtained it from an alien group called the Agbui. Apparently, it’s stirred up a great deal of official interest.” He looked at Samakro. “On Celwis.”
Samakro felt his eyes narrow. The planet where Xodlak officers and warriors were currently flocking. “Enough interest to warrant an emergency summons?” he asked.
“If not, we’re looking at a remarkable coincidence,” Thrawn agreed. “Thank you, Mid Captain Apros. Return to your ship and do all you can to expedite our departure.”
“Yes, sir,” Apros said, standing up. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.” Nodding to Thrawn, then to Samakro, he left the conference room.
“I wish he could have been more helpful, too, sir,” Samakro said, scowling at the brooch. “A bit of jewelry isn’t much to go on.”
“Perhaps more than he realizes,” Thrawn said. “We know now that three families are involved—perhaps more, but three at least. We know all three are from the Forty Great Families.”
“And that all of them are allied to different Ruling Families,” Samakro added.
Thrawn’s forehead creased briefly. “I was unaware of that.”
“Yes, sir,” Samakro said, wincing. Once again, Thrawn’s ignorance of political realities was peeking through. “The Xodlak are allied with the Irizi, the Pommrio are supporters of the Plikh, and the Erighal are with the Dasklo.” He nodded toward the brooch. “I assume we’re going to start with Celwis?”
For a moment Thrawn didn’t answer, but gazed in silence at the brooch. He turned it over in his hands, his fingers tracing the intricate pattern. “No, I think we’ll start somewhere closer to home,” he told Samakro, standing up. “Come with me, Mid Captain. I have a thought.”
Che’ri had decided that she was too tired to eat a full meal, but too hungry to take a nap. They compromised, with Thalias making her a snack to ease her rumbling stomach and then packing her off to bed.
Thalias was finishing up her own snack and mentally tucking herself into her own bed when the door signaled a visitor.
“Good day, Caregiver,” Thrawn said, nodding to her. “My apologies for the intrusion.”
“No problem, Senior Captain,” Thalias said, stepping back and letting him and Samakro come in. The first officer looked puzzled, she noted, while Thrawn looked unusually grim. “Has something happened?”
“I assume Sky-walker Che’ri is asleep?” Thrawn asked, looking at the closed hatch to the girl’s sleeping room.
“She went down about ten minutes ago, so probably,” Thalias said. The last time he’d come here and asked about privacy—“Is this about my—uh—other roommate?”
“Yes,” Thrawn said, crossing toward Thalias’s room. “This time, I also need to talk to her.”
“Of course,” Thalias said automatically. To talk to her? She glanced again at the growing understanding and uneasiness on Samakro’s face, then hurried to catch up with Thrawn.
He’d removed the blanket from the hibernation chamber and was studying the control panel when she and Samakro entered. “Do you know how to operate that, sir?” Samakro asked.
“The procedure is quite straightforward,” Thrawn said. Lifting a protective cover, he pressed the button beneath it. “This may take a few minutes,” he added. “Perhaps you’d prefer to wait in the dayroom, Caregiver?”
“I’m fine,” Thalias said, wincing as the indicator lights began running a slow sequence. “May I ask what this is about?”
“I want her to look at this.” Thrawn showed her a rather beautiful brooch made of metal wires. “I want to know if she recognizes the design.”
“I thought Apros said it came from aliens called the Agbui,” Samakro said.
“So he did,” Thrawn said. “But look at the Magys’s clothing. You can see for yourself the style similarities between the pattern and the brooch.”
Samakro peered through the canopy, then looked questioningly at Thalias. She shook her head and gave him a small shrug. Whatever Thrawn was seeing, it wasn’t obvious to her, either. “Are you saying the Agbui are some of the Magys’s people?” she asked.
“Not at all,” Thrawn said. “The note included pictures, and the two species are quite different.” He looked at her. “Let me tell you about the conversation we’ve just had with Mid Captain Apros.”
By the time he’d finished the tale of family emergencies, aliens with fancy jewelry, and attempts to destroy the Springhawk, the hibernation chamber had finished its cycle and the Magys was awake.
And she was not happy.
“How do you do this to me?” she demanded, stumbling over the Taarja words as she struggled into a sitting position in the chamber. “How dare you deny me the right and weight of leadership? Do you betray me and my people with no guilt or consequence?”
“Would you betray your people for no reason?” Thrawn countered. “Or are guilt and consequence only for others?”
“I do not betray,” the Magys shot back. “My people are gone. I and my remnant have no right of lingering survival.”
“We don’t yet have proof of that,” Thrawn said. “At any rate, that is a question and a decision for another day. For the moment, I need you to look at—”
“The decision is now,” the Magys spat. “You wish to seclude me from my remnant? You seek to make them wait in vain for my word and my decision?” She drew herself up. “So be it. I lay down my leadership. They may touch the Beyond in their own stead and time, as I myself will now do.”
Thalias tensed. The Magys’s companion, she remembered, had killed himself at her order, without the use of any obvious weapon. If she could do the same thing—“What if your people aren’t gone?” she spoke up.