“Because otherwise the visual record will show twitching in the freighter’s movement as we try to make the right connection,” Thrawn said. “Those movements will be read, correctly, as additional tractor connections.”
“Interference from the Springhawk,” Thalias said, nodding. “Which you already said we don’t want.”
“Exactly.” Thrawn looked down at Che’ri. “What we’re going to do is have Afpriuh attempt to lock on with the tractor beam, using a low enough setting that it won’t have any visible effect. You, Sky-walker Che’ri, will be watching the sensor display, using Third Sight to see a few seconds into the future. If and when—”
“Wait a minute,” Thalias cut in as she suddenly understood what he had in mind. “You’re not serious.”
“Your hand will be on top of Afpriuh’s,” Thrawn continued, ignoring the interruption. “If and when you see the freighter make the yaw turn we’re looking for, you’ll indicate that by tapping or pressing down on his hand. When that happens, he’ll run the tractor beam to full power before he activates it.”
“That can’t work,” Thalias insisted. “Che’ri can’t see something and then influence it to become something else.”
“Third Sight can show her what the senior commander is about to do,” Thrawn said. “In this case, that vision will be of the microscopic movement the freighter would experience if he’d left the beam on low power. As long as he’s in control and she’s not directly changing the event, it should work.”
“But—”
“Thalias,” Che’ri said quietly.
Thalias broke off, looking at her. “Che’ri, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she warned.
“But it’s sort of like what I do all the time,” Che’ri pointed out. “I see what the Springhawk might run into and change its direction so that it doesn’t.”
“It’s not the same,” Thalias insisted. “Remember, I used to do all that, too. When you’re a navigator, you see something that’s about to happen and make it not happen. What Senior Captain Thrawn is talking about is seeing something that isn’t going to happen and making it happen anyway.”
Che’ri shook her head. “I don’t see the difference.”
Thalias clenched her teeth. On one level, she wasn’t sure she saw a difference, either.
But her gut instincts were still screaming that it was radically different. Warning her that this was uncharted and potentially dangerous territory; further warning her that pushing Third Sight this way might affect Che’ri in ways they couldn’t predict.
“I don’t know if it’ll work,” Che’ri went on. “But shouldn’t we at least try?”
Thalias looked at Thrawn. “What happens if she doesn’t do this?”
“Perhaps nothing,” Thrawn said. “The analysts may not find anything suspicious, and then all will be well. If they do, there may be trouble among some of the families. Perhaps serious trouble. But those are only possibilities. If you’re uncomfortable with this, you don’t have to do it.”
Che’ri squared her shoulders. “No,” she said. Her voice was shaking a little, but there was no hesitation in it. “I didn’t think I could learn to fly a spaceship. You said I could, and I did. If you say I can do this, I can. Where do you want me?”
“Right here,” Thrawn said, moving her a few centimeters closer to Afpriuh. “This display—the one right here—is the one you’ll watch. I’ll keep it lined up on the freighter. Put your hand here—” he took her left hand and laid it, palm downward, on top of Afpriuh’s right hand “—and press or tap as soon as you see the freighter move. All right?”
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
Thrawn touched her shoulder, gave Thalias a brief look, then nodded. “Begin.”
For a long moment nothing happened. Thalias stared at the display, feeling her heart thudding, wondering if this was going to work. Beside Che’ri, Afpriuh’s hands moved delicately on his controls, his left hand making small adjustments, his right tapping every few seconds on a recessed button.
The Springhawk’s bridge had gone silent. Out of the corners of her eyes Thalias could see the rest of the officers sitting motionlessly, as if afraid of breaking a spell.
Were they worried about Che’ri? Or were they thinking about the consequences of failure? Thalias didn’t know exactly what was going on, but this level of quiet tension suggested the situation might be more serious than Thrawn had let on.
Trouble among some of the families, he’d said. What did that even mean? Complaints filed with the Syndicure? Trade disagreements?
Che’ri seemed to be swaying a bit, one of her signs of fatigue or stress. Stepping close behind her, Thalias rested her hands on the girl’s shoulders, steadying her and offering silent support.
Abruptly, Che’ri’s fingers spasmed on the back of Afpriuh’s hand.
Thalias snapped her attention back to the display, her hands squeezing Che’ri’s shoulders. For another second nothing happened.
And then, there it was: The movement Thrawn had hoped for. The distant freighter shifted position, its bow turning a few degrees to portside. Thalias took a deep breath, let it out in a relieved huff—
And jerked backward as the image exploded into fire.
She looked up and peered through the viewport. In the far distance she could see the small spark of flame that had been amplified by the telescopics of the display, a spark now visibly angling toward the planet looming off to starboard.
What the hell had just happened?
“Collision confirmed, sir,” Dalvu reported crisply from the sensor station. “Remaining gunboats have rammed the freighter. New combined vector … looks good, sir. Surface impact should be on target.”
“Acknowledged,” Thrawn said. “Caregiver?”
“Yes?” Thalias asked.
Thrawn nodded toward Che’ri. Frowning, Thalias focused on the girl.
The girl hadn’t moved. She was still standing, her shoulders suddenly tense beneath Thalias’s hands, her eyes fixed on the console.
Or maybe fixed on nothing at all. “Che’ri?” Thalias prompted.
No reply. No response. Carefully, Thalias gently turned the girl back around toward her. “Che’ri?”
For another moment Che’ri just stood there, her expression blank. Then she shook herself. Her eyes blinked twice and then came back to focus. “Did it work?” she asked.
“Yes, it did,” Thalias assured her. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” Che’ri said, frowning. “Yes, I’m all right. That was just … it felt kind of backward.”
Thrawn looked toward the rear of the bridge. “Warriors?” he called, beckoning to the pair who’d escorted Thalias and Che’ri in from their suite. “Take Sky-walker Che’ri to the medcenter for a full examination.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Che’ri protested. “I’m fine.”
“It’s just a precaution,” Thalias soothed. “Besides, you haven’t been checked out for a while. The medics have probably missed you.”
“No, they haven’t,” Che’ri grumbled. “What about our game?”
“The game will keep,” Thalias said. “Come on, now—no fussing allowed. This needs to be done.”
“Fine,” Che’ri muttered again. Still not happy, but she let Thalias lead her to the hatch without further argument.
“Thank you, Sky-walker,” Thrawn called after them. “And you, Caregiver. Thank you both.”
Thalias looked sideways at Che’ri. Yes, their game would wait until they were back in the suite. And then later this afternoon, maybe an hour or two after they returned, it would be over.
Thrawn was clearly playing some sort of game, too. The question on Thalias’s mind now was whether it, too, was over.