“There is that,” Lakinda conceded. “All right. What do you need from me?”
“First of all, we need to know where we’re going,” Apros said. “Can you send us the location?”
“Of course.” Lakinda snagged her questis, punched up the mining planet’s coordinates, and keyed them into the transmission. “You should have it now.”
“Confirmed,” Apros said. “Senior Captain Thrawn?”
“Yes, I have it,” Thrawn said. “I assume, Senior Captain Lakinda, that you don’t have any sky-walkers with you?”
“No, we’re traveling jump-by-jump.”
“Good,” Thrawn said. “Then Mid Captain Apros and I should be able to arrive ahead of you and the other families’ forces.”
“Assuming those warships also don’t have sky-walkers,” Apros warned.
“I can’t imagine they do,” Lakinda said. “But I suppose it’s possible. Do you want me to try to speed up and get there a little sooner? I may be able to shave a few hours from my timetable.”
“That would be helpful,” Apros said. “But only if you can do it safely.”
“And without arousing any suspicions,” Thrawn added.
“I’ll do what I can,” Lakinda said. “Shall I try to contact you again along the way?”
“I doubt you’ll be able to,” Thrawn said. “From now on we’ll be spending as much time in hyperspace as our sky-walkers can handle. Good luck, Senior Captain.”
“And to you two, as well,” Lakinda said. “There’s one more thing. Mid Captain Apros?”
“Yes, ma’am?” Apros said.
Lakinda took a deep breath. She’d so badly wanted this. So badly wanted to bring honor to the Xodlak family, and in doing so bring honor onto herself. Instead, she was poised to bring ruin on everything.
Not now. Not anymore. “Your mission,” she told him, “is to keep whatever happens from escalating into a civil war. If accomplishing that mission requires the destruction of my two ships, understand clearly that we—and I—are expendable.”
“Senior Captain—”
“No argument, Apros,” she said. “Or from you, Thrawn.”
“I wasn’t going to offer one, Senior Captain,” Thrawn said mildly. “Be assured in turn that we’ll do everything we can to avoid any such sacrifices.”
“I appreciate that,” Lakinda said. “But I’m serious.”
“So are we,” Apros said. “We’ll see you in a few days, Senior Captain. Good luck.”
The comm keyed off. Lakinda laid back down, and for a minute stared at the ceiling. A massive deception and manipulation. A possible civil war.
And only the Grayshrike and Springhawk poised to defuse it.
Two heavy cruisers, and Thrawn’s plan.
She’d been wrong earlier, she realized now. It wasn’t Thrawn who’d borrowed tactics and strategies from Admiral Ar’alani, but Ar’alani who’d observed and adapted Thrawn’s methods for herself. Thrawn’s methods were Thrawn’s, all the way.
Because Ar’alani would never try something this insane.
Neither, for that matter, would Lakinda herself. Maybe Thrawn had merely been lucky all these years, his victories as much a product of that luck as they were of his plans. Or maybe there was something inherent in his way of thinking that drew his opponents into his schemes at precisely the times and places where he needed them.
But that didn’t mean he was better than Lakinda. Better and worse were artificial and meaningless concepts. He’d had his victories; she’d had hers.
No better or worse. Just different.
Propping herself up again, she tapped for the bridge. “Duty Officer, this is Senior Captain Lakinda,” she identified herself. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. In the meantime, the pilot is to start running some numbers. He has until I arrive to figure out how to speed up our passage. And alert the Apogee that I’ll want the captain and first officer available to talk in one hour.”
She got a confirmation and keyed off the comm, the words again racing through her mind. Deception … civil war …
Expendable.
Was Thrawn willing to die for the Ascendancy? She didn’t know. Maybe that was yet another way the two of them were different.
Hopefully, neither of them would have to find out over a worthless piece of rock.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she grabbed her uniform from the valet stand and started getting dressed.
The two Xodlak warships had left. Haplif couldn’t see them from Lakphro’s ranch, but he knew by the sudden decrease in local comm activity that they were gone. Gone on their mission to bring glory to the Xodlak family and Councilor Lakuviv.
And with that, it was over.
At least Haplif’s part was. The coming battle, the fury and death, the destruction and screams of betrayal, the descent into confusion and civil war—all those of course were yet to come.
But they were inevitable. Just because the Chiss Ascendancy didn’t yet realize its doom had been sealed didn’t mean there was any way for them to escape it.
It was over. Now, finally, Jixtus would let him go home.
There were still a few random seedlings left in the spice plot, he saw as he finished the last row. But suddenly he didn’t care whether he got them all or not. Yoponek was off the ship on some errand Shimkif had contrived for him, all the rest of the equipment and people were packed up, and Shimkif had the crew working on launch prep. Haplif’s original plan called for them to leave in half an hour, but there really was no reason they couldn’t lift off right now. He straightened up, closing the box of seedlings and looping the strap over his shoulder—
“I hear you’re leaving,” a voice came from behind him.
He turned. Focused on the spices and his own musings, he hadn’t heard Lakphro come up behind him. “Yes, it’s time for us to move on,” he told the rancher, keeping his voice cheerful. “New worlds, new vistas, new experiences. An exciting time in our continuing journey through the universe. I want to thank you for your hospitality in letting us use part of your land.”
“That’s it?” Lakphro asked. “Just a few random words of thanks?”
Haplif crinkled his forehead skin, taking another look at the rancher. The Chiss was dressed differently than usual, with heavier boots and coveralls. Instead of his usual light jacket, he was wearing a checkered brown monstrosity with a big brass-tooth sealer down the front. His usual electric-jolt animal-control stick was holstered to his right thigh, but today he was also wearing a second lurestick on his left. His feet were spread slightly apart, as if he was preparing for a fight, and his glowing red eyes were narrowed with suspicion.
“I’m sorry if our thanks were inadequate,” Haplif said, still keeping his tone light. “Would an epic poem be more to your liking? Perhaps a musical interweave in five-part harmony?”
“Don’t be sarcastic,” Lakphro said. “It doesn’t fit your public image. No, I was thinking maybe more of your precious wire jewelry.”
Haplif’s mouth started to quiver with surprise. Ruthlessly, he forced it shut. “Our jewelry?” he asked carefully.
“Oh, no, of course not,” Lakphro said. “I forgot. Those are just for bribes, aren’t they?”
And with that, Haplif realized he was going to have to kill him.
He’d hoped to avoid any more killing. Not for any moral reasons, but because it was such an unpleasant feeling to wrap his fingers around someone’s throat and feel their fear and hopelessness as he drained the life from them.