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“Senior Captain, we have a tight-beam transmission from the Midsummer,” Brisch suddenly said over the speaker. “Senior Captain Lakinda says we have a problem.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The gunboats continued their attack, blasting away at the family ships and taking fire in return. Lakinda kept a close eye on the Midsummer’s status boards, watching for the inevitable mistake on the part of whoever was targeting her ship, bracing herself for the laser shot that would take out a barrier node or accidentally blast through a weak part of the hull and kill whoever was on station behind it, or the misjudged approach that would slam the gunship itself into her.

But so far that hadn’t happened. Whoever Thrawn had assigned to handle the gunboats, they were doing their jobs well.

The enemy was down to eight when, like a brick slapping her in the face, she saw the terrible flaw in the entire scheme.

For a long minute she just sat there, gripping the armrests of her command chair as the battle raged around her ships, her brain racing to sort through the problem and find a solution. If she did … no. If someone on the Springhawk did … no. If Thrawn had already spotted the flaw and worked it into his plans …

She dug her fingers a little harder into her armrests. No. There was no way Thrawn could have caught this one. Not with his blindness to family politics. He would continue on, bring the scenario to a triumphant end … and then watch helplessly as that triumph collapsed. Deception … civil war …

She had to warn him. But that wouldn’t be easy. Even if she could risk her own officers listening in, standard battle protocol required her bridge comm to remain open to all the other ships of her task force. She would have to make an excuse to leave the bridge and go to the duty office.

Another laser shot slammed into the Midsummer’s hull. “Damage to Number Eight Targeting Sensor,” First reported.

“Acknowledged,” Lakinda said, standing up and crossing over to him. “Assessment?”

“They’re enthusiastic enough,” he said, sending another pair of laser blasts chasing after one of the gunboats. “Lucky for us, they’re not very good at picking their targets.”

“Indeed,” Lakinda said, noting in passing the irony there. In truth, the gunboats were hitting exactly what they were aiming for. “I need you to take command for a few minutes,” she added, lowering her voice. “I’m going to try to get a message to the Springhawk.

First craned his neck to look up at her, his eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Sensors indicate they’ve gone partially dormant,” she said. “That tells me they were already tangling with these gunboats before we arrived. They may have picked up useful information on them.”

The eyes narrowed a little more. “I don’t think a private conversation is a good idea,” he warned. “We’re in a precarious enough relationship with the Erighal and Pommrio. We don’t want to look like we’re going behind their backs.” He gave a derisive snort. “Besides, considering the shape the Springhawk’s in, what kind of useful information could Thrawn possibly have?”

“I wasn’t asking for your advice or opinions, First,” Lakinda said. “I’m giving you notice and an order. Maintain pressure on the gunboats, and keep an eye on the Apogee. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She retraced her steps across the bridge, continuing past her command chair to the far side and slipping through the duty office hatchway. She sealed the hatch and sat down at the desk, keying on the equipment and punching in her private code. Most ship transmissions went through the bridge comm station, but there was an independent system available for the commander’s private use.

On Expansionary Defense Fleet ships, that system was inaccessible to the comm officer. There was no way to know if Xodlak family warships followed the same etiquette.

The Springhawk was a fair distance away, and it took her nearly a minute to get a tight beam set up and aimed. Finally, she was ready. “Springhawk, this is Senior Captain Lakinda,” she said. “We have a problem.”

She paused a second until it occurred to her that Thrawn couldn’t reply, even with a tight beam, without the risk that one or more of the other family ships would be able to pick it up. “Once this is over, the Erighal and Pommrio are going to insist on going down to examine the mines,” she continued. “When they see the entire setup is a fraud, it’ll spark a huge degree of embarrassment. You can’t hide something like that forever, and once it’s out in the open there will be a public uproar, with anger, recriminations, massive efforts to find someone to blame—”

She broke off. By this point, even Thrawn should have gotten the message. “The end result won’t be much better than if they’d come to physical blows,” she said. “I don’t know how you’re going to prevent that, but you have to find a way.”

She swallowed hard. Expendable … “I think someone’s going to have to crash the Watith freighter into the fake mine. I know it’s hard, but if that’s the price we have to pay, then we have to pay it.”

She paused, wondering if there was anything else she should say. But she’d said enough. “I have to get back to the battle now. Good luck.”

She closed down the tight beam and the comm, locking the log so that the next duty officer couldn’t just sit down and pull up the transmission record. She stood up, returned to the hatch, and tapped the release.

To find the second officer standing outside waiting for her, his face rigid. Standing a pace behind him were two warriors with charrics belted at their sides.

“Senior Captain Xodlak’in’daro,” Second said, his tone painfully formal, “I am hereby informing you that, for crimes and offenses against the Xodlak family, the senior officers of the Xodlak frigate Midsummer have removed you from command.”

“What are you talking about?” Lakinda demanded, her pulse suddenly pounding. “What crimes?”

“Betrayal of Xodlak family interests,” Second said. “Disregard for Xodlak family orders and instructions. Communicating and consorting with the enemy.”

“The Mitth are not our enemy,” she insisted, feeling a sudden catch in her lungs. Communicating with the enemy. Had they tapped somehow into her message? Had someone figured out that the Springhawk was controlling the gunboats, and that speaking with them really was talking to the Midsummer’s attackers?

“They’re not our allies, either,” Second countered.

“Did you learn anything about the gunboats?” the first officer called from the weapons console.

Called at full volume, Lakinda noted, without any attempt to keep the question confidential. Apparently, it wasn’t just the senior officers, but the entire bridge crew who were in on this. “Senior Captain Thrawn was unable to respond,” she said.

“Of course,” First said scornfully. “But I assume you were able to talk to him?”

A laser blast flashed past the viewport, briefly illuminating the bridge. “In case you hadn’t noticed, First, we’re in the middle of a battle,” Lakinda said. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Agreed,” Second said. “You are therefore to be confined to quarters until a proper investigation can be completed.”

Lakinda straightened up. They had no legitimate right to do this, she knew. Hearsay, innuendo, assumption, deduction—none of those were sufficient grounds to relieve an officer of her post. Every one of her officers, from First on down, must certainly know that.