Thrawn Ascendancy Book I: Chaos Rising

CHAPTER FOUR

Che’ri came out of Third Sight with slightly bleary eyes, a horrible tiredness, and a massive headache. It felt like an overload spell starting to come on.

She hoped desperately it wasn’t an overload spell.

“We’re here,” someone said.

Che’ri turned her head, careful not to move it too quickly. Senior Captain Thrawn was seated in the command chair, with Mid Captain Samakro on his left and Thalias on his right.

That was new. Most of Che’ri’s momishes had walked her to and from the bridge but stayed in the suite while she was on duty. She’d always assumed they simply weren’t allowed inside.

Maybe they all could have stayed if they’d wanted to, and just didn’t want to. Or maybe Thalias was special because she’d been a sky-walker.

Thrawn and Samakro were looking at a planet centered in the main viewport.

Thalias was looking at Che’ri.

Quickly, Che’ri turned back to her controls, the sudden movement hammering an extra jolt of pain into her head. Never show weakness, she’d been warned over and over again. A sky-walker never shows weakness. She’s always ready to continue on, cheerfully and efficiently, making one more journey, and one more after that, until her captain allows her to rest.

“No energy emissions,” the woman at the sensor station called. “No masses of refined metal, no indications of life activities. Planet seems dead.”

“Not surprising, given the environment,” Samakro said. “Scratch one more. On to the next system?”

There was a pause. Che’ri kept staring at the controls in front of her, hoping Thrawn would say no.

But she was sure he would say yes. No one had told her what this journey was all about, but they seemed to be looking for something important. A captain like Thrawn wouldn’t want to waste any time.

Could Che’ri navigate with an overload spell coming on? She’d never tried before. But she had a job to do, and there was no one else aboard who could do it. If Thrawn said they should go on—

“I think not,” Thrawn said. “The ship and warriors could use a few hours’ rest.”

Che’ri felt tears blurring her eyes. Tears of relief that she could rest. Tears of shame that she was too tired to go on.

Thrawn knew. She could hear it in his voice. He could say everyone else needed rest, but he knew. It was all on her. All on Che’ri. She was the reason they had to stop.

“Helm, bring us into high orbit over the planet,” the captain ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the man at the console next to Che’ri’s said.

She watched his fingers moving on the controls, fascinated despite her aches and blurry vision. She’d played some flying games on her questis, but watching someone doing it for real was a lot more interesting.

“Sensors, extend your search outward during the inbound,” Thrawn continued. “Once we’re in orbit, refine the search toward the planet.”

“Yes, sir,” the woman said.

“What are you expecting to find?” Samakro asked.

“Not expecting, Mid Captain,” Thrawn corrected. “Merely speculating.”

Che’ri frowned. Speculating? About what? She kept listening, hoping Samakro would ask.

But he didn’t. “Yes, sir,” was all he said. Che’ri heard his footsteps as he walked away.

“Thank you,” Thalias said quietly.

Che’ri squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the pain and shame, spilling the tears down her cheeks. Thalias knew, too. Did Samakro know?

Did everyone on the ship know?

There was a breath on Che’ri’s cheek, warming the tears. “Are you all right?” Thalias asked softly into her ear. “Shall I help you back to the suite?”

“Can I stay here a little longer?” Che’ri asked. “I can’t…I don’t want to be carried.”

“Is she all right, Caregiver?” Thrawn asked.

“She will be,” Thalias said, pressing her hand against Che’ri’s forehead. The cool and the pressure felt good. “Sometimes sky-walkers come out of Third Sight with sensory overload that presents with aches and sparkle-vision. If it goes into a full-on spell, it can take some time to throw it off.”

“All the more reason to stop for now,” Thrawn said.

“Yes,” Thalias said. “At any rate, I’d like to give Che’ri a few minutes here to start her recovery before we walk back to the suite.”

A small bit of comfort whispered through the pain. None of Che’ri’s other momishes had ever really understood these overload spells. One of them had even gotten angry with her. It was nice to have someone who knew what they were, and what to do about them.

“Take all the time you need,” Thrawn said. “I’m not surprised she was affected so strongly, given this system’s parameters.”

Che’ri frowned, opening her eyes and peering at the planet the Springhawk was moving toward. It didn’t look any different from any other planet she’d seen on this trip. What was so special about it?

“Not the planet,” Thrawn said.

Che’ri jerked, the movement sending another wave of pain through her head and shoulders. The captain’s voice had come from right behind her.

Captains didn’t usually get close to their sky-walkers. She didn’t know if they weren’t supposed to, or if they just didn’t. But Thrawn was standing right beside Thalias. Almost close enough to touch.

“Look at the tactical display,” Thrawn continued, pointing at one of the big screens beside the viewport. “It gives you a wider view of the system as a whole.”

Che’ri squinted at the display, trying to sort out all the lines and curves and numbers.

And then she got it, and felt her eyes go wide.

There wasn’t just one star out there, like she’d thought. There were four of them.

“Quadruple star systems like this are quite rare,” Thrawn said. “I imagine navigating into the middle of one takes an extra toll on Third Sight.”

“Yes, I imagine it does,” Thalias said, shifting hands to bring her other, colder one onto Che’ri’s forehead. “Why are we here? I mean here?”

“Do you really want to know, Caregiver?” Thrawn asked.

Thalias’s hand against Che’ri’s forehead suddenly went stiff. “Yes, sir,” Thalias said. “I really do.”

Thrawn stepped around to Thalias’s other side. “A refugee ship was found drifting in one of the Ascendancy’s outlying systems,” he said, his voice low. Maybe Che’ri wasn’t supposed to hear this part? “We’re following the likely vector the ship came from in the hope of identifying the people. A question, Lieutenant Commander Azmordi?”

“No, sir,” the lieutenant commander said stiffly. “But may I remind the captain that there are certain areas that are to be kept”—squinting past Thalias’s hand, Che’ri saw him pointing at her—“within the senior officer corps?”

“Your concern is noted, Lieutenant Commander,” Thrawn said. “However, at some point Sky-walker Che’ri and Caregiver Thalias may be required to perform extraordinary tasks. It’s important that the team knows what’s at stake and is mentally prepared.”

Che’ri frowned. The team. No one had ever called her part of a team before. She’d never even thought of herself that way. She was the sky-walker, and her caregiver was her momish, and that was all. Che’ri guided the ship where it needed to go, and the caregiver made her meals and put her to bed at night. They weren’t a team.

Were they?

“Yes, sir,” Azmordi said. Che’ri had heard enough unhappy officers to know what one sounded like, and this one definitely wasn’t happy.

But he didn’t keep arguing.

“It occurred to me that the refugees wouldn’t want their enemy to know where they were going,” Thrawn continued. “I also read from the way the family units had been gathered together on the destroyed ship that the people had a close sense of comradeship. It seemed to me that such people would prefer to travel in groups. Or, if not a group, then at least with a companion ship.”

He paused, like he was expecting one of them to say something. Che’ri looked at the four stars again, trying to think through her headache.

And then, suddenly, she had it. “I know!” she said, raising her hand. “The four stars. It’s hard to get in here.”

“Yes,” Thrawn said. “Which means…?”

Che’ri felt her shoulders hunch. She didn’t have any idea what it meant.

“Which means it’s a perfect place for two ships to rendezvous,” Thalias said. “A place where any pursuers would hesitate to look. Do you think we’ll find the other ship here?”

“Possibly.” Thrawn paused again, and Che’ri had the feeling he was looking at her. “Sky-walker Che’ri, are you ready yet to return to your quarters?”

The moment of excitement disappeared. Che’ri wasn’t part of the team anymore, just someone there to move the ship around. “I think so,” she said with a sigh.

“Let me help you,” Thalias said. She took Che’ri’s arm with one hand, and undid the safety straps with the other. “Are you ready to stand up?”

“Yes,” Che’ri said. She stood up, stopped as her head spun suddenly with vertigo. The universe settled down, and she nodded. “Okay,” she said, and walked around the chair. With Thalias still holding her arm, she went to the bridge hatchway.

A moment later, they were walking down the corridor. “Are you hungry?” Thalias asked as they reached the door to their suite. “Or would you like a hot bath first?”

“A bath,” Che’ri said. “Did you get overload spells like this?”

“Sometimes,” Thalias said. “Mostly when I was just starting out, but I had occasional ones right up to the end. Probably none of them was as bad as this one, though.” She shook her head. “A four-star system. The worst I ever had was a three-star one. You’re pretty amazing, Che’ri.”

Che’ri wrinkled her nose. “Not really.”

But the words felt good. Captain Thrawn taking the time to talk to her had felt good, too.

A hot bath would feel really good.

“Well, you are,” Thalias said. “Let me get you settled, and I’ll go draw your bath. Would you like your questis while you wait?”

Three hours later, with Che’ri bathed, fed, and finally asleep, Thalias returned to the bridge.

To find that the Springhawk was no longer alone. Floating half a kilometer away from the viewport, its outer lights dark, was an alien ship.

Samakro was seated in the command chair, talking quietly with one of the other officers. He spotted Thalias, muttered a final comment, and as the other man headed for one of the consoles he beckoned her over. “How is Che’ri?” he asked.

“Sleeping,” Thalias said, stopping beside his chair and gazing out at the alien ship. The blocky shape made it look more like a freighter than a warship, she decided. “Where’s Senior Captain Thrawn?”

“He went aboard with a survey team.” Samakro shook his head. “Damnedest thing.”

“The ship?”

“The captain,” Samakro said. “How did he know it would be here?”

Thalias started to remind him of Thrawn’s earlier analysis, remembered in time that Samakro hadn’t been there for that. “He has his methods,” she said instead. “Where was it?”

“Orbiting on the other side of the planet,” Samakro said. “It wasn’t until just after you left that it came into sight.”

Thalias winced. A dead ship, probably with dead people aboard. Had Thrawn known or suspected when it would come out of hiding? Was that why he’d suddenly wanted her to take Che’ri out of there and get her back to their suite?

Because the helm officer was right. There were definitely some things that should be kept hidden from the sky-walkers.

“So what’s your story?” Samakro asked.

“Excuse me?” Thalias asked, frowning at him.

“Please,” Samakro said scornfully. “A former sky-walker, now working as a caregiver? Doesn’t happen anymore. From what I’ve heard, once sky-walkers are done they want to get as far away from that life as they can.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Thalias said, only lying a little.

“Right,” Samakro said. “And Mitth family, and aboard Thrawn’s ship? If you’re really who you claim to be, that’s a pretty heaping pile of coincidence.”

The memory of her brief conversation with Syndic Thurfian flashed back to mind. Samakro had no idea. A flicker of movement caught her eye: one of the Springhawk’s shuttles, detaching from the ship and heading back. “If you have a point, please make it,” she said. “The captain’s on his way back.”

“The Mitth sent you to observe us,” Samakro said. “Don’t bother denying it—the officer who put you on the Springhawk told me that’s how you first tried to get aboard, and also that a Mitth syndic showed up at the last minute to give you a push.”

Thalias kept her expression wooden. “And?”

“And I’ve seen the flaming mess observers can make aboard a warship,” Samakro said. “They get in the way, they never know where to stand or which way to jump, and they introduce way more family politics than is healthy.”

“I’m not here to make trouble.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Samakro said. “You just will.” He pointed at the ship floating in front of them. “Everyone over there is dead. Everyone on the ship that was attacked at Dioya is dead. Someone made them that way, someone who may be brand new to us. And somewhere along the line, we may have to fight them.”

His pointing finger shifted to Thalias. “I don’t want to die because people were ignoring their boards and instead looking over their shoulders to see if the Mitth observer was watching them.”

“I think that’s a sentiment we can all get behind,” Thalias said stiffly. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll do everything I can to not make a mess. You’ll do everything you can to let me know when I’m making one anyway.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” Samakro warned. “We do have a brig, you know.”

“Don’t threaten something you can’t follow through on, Mid Captain,” Thalias said. “Don’t forget I’m the only one who can take care of your sky-walker.”

“Since when?” Samakro scoffed. “You mix up soup when she gets sick, you cuddle her when she’s crying, and you make sure none of us dangerous warrior types scare her.”

“Trust me, there’s a lot more to it than that,” Thalias said, pushing away her reflexive annoyance. If Samakro was trying to goad her into making enough trouble that he had an excuse to lock her up, he would have to try harder than that. “So what do we know about that ship? You said everyone was dead? How?”

Samakro took a deep breath. “All we know so far is that the hyperdrive failed, which is what stranded them here. At least this batch wasn’t murdered like the last group—looks like they ran out of air.” His lips compressed briefly. “Not the worst way to die, for what it’s worth.”

“It also means an intact ship and intact bodies,” Thalias said.

“Right,” Samakro said. “Hopefully, that’ll give us what we need to backtrack them the rest of the way to their system.”

“Mid Captain Samakro, this is the captain.” Thrawn’s voice came over the bridge speaker. “Is the examination room prepared?”

Samakro keyed the mic at his chair. “Yes, sir,” he confirmed. “We have four tables set up in Ready Room Two, and the medics and equipment are standing by.”

“Excellent,” Thrawn said. “Join me there, if you would.”

“On my way, sir.”

He got three steps toward the bridge hatch before Thalias caught up with him. “Where do you think you’re going?” Samakro asked, frowning at her.

“Ready Room Two,” Thalias said. “Whatever the captain’s found, it may impact on where we’re going and how Che’ri does her job. I need to know everything so that I can prepare her when the time comes.”

“Of course you do,” Samakro said sourly. “Fine. Lead the way.”

“Right,” Thalias said hesitantly. “Ah…”

“You don’t know where it is, do you?”

Thalias huffed out a breath. “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” Samakro said. “Follow me. And when we get there, stay out of the way. And don’t make a mess.”

The ready room was smaller than Thalias had expected, and with four tables plus the medical team crammed in the place was already crowded when she and Samakro arrived.

The medics, naturally, quickly moved out of the way to give the Springhawk’s first officer some space. Thalias, also naturally, had to work her way through them, avoiding elbows and glowers, until she reached a corner that wasn’t being used.

She was still fine-tuning her position when Thrawn and the bodies arrived.

There were four of them, as Thrawn had implied. Three were of the same species: medium height, with pronounced chest and hip bulges, their skin a light pink but with purple splotches around the eyes, all topped by feathery head crests. Their arms and legs were spindly but looked well muscled. They were dressed in clothing that was alien, but nevertheless with a style and detail that gave Thalias the impression of being someone’s finery.

The fourth body, in stark contrast, was tall and thin, with enlarged shoulders, elbows, wrists, knees, and ankles. Its skin was a pale gray, and across its temples was a crosshatch of green, red, and blue tattoo scars. It was dressed in a dark-red, totally utilitarian jumpsuit.

“There’s nothing like these in our records,” Thrawn said, gesturing to the three pink bodies. “But the fourth…do you recognize it, Mid Captain?”

“Yes,” Samakro said, stepping close and peering at its stony face. “I don’t know the species, but those temple scars mark him as a Void Guide.”

He looked over at Thalias. “They’re one of the groups who hire themselves out as navigators for long-range travel through the Chaos,” he added.

“I know,” Thalias said. She’d been aboard a warship once that had been escorting a diplomatic mission, and both ships had hired aliens from the Navigators’ Guild to help reinforce the carefully designed illusion that the Chiss had no navigators of their own. She and her caregiver had been kept out of sight in their suite, but she’d seen some vid views of the navigator at his job.

She didn’t remember that navigator looking anything like this dead Void Guide. But then, the guild was made up of a lot of different groups and species.

“Actually, I’d have been surprised if you did know his species,” Thrawn commented. “The Navigators’ Guild goes to great lengths not to identify the species or the systems of its members. At any rate, his presence is a stroke of luck.”

“Why?” Thalias asked.

“Because some of the bridge recordings survived the death of the crew and passengers,” Thrawn said. “Naturally, those records are in the inhabitants’ language.”

“Which I assume we don’t know?” Samakro asked.

“Correct,” Thrawn said. “The analyzers might be able to do something with it, but without a linguistic basis to start from they’re unlikely to make much progress.”

“But they also had to talk to their navigator,” Thalias said as she suddenly saw where Thrawn was going with this. “And unless he could speak their language, they would have used a trade language.”

“Exactly,” Thrawn said, inclining his head toward her. “And because the Void Guides’ main operational area overlaps with ours, there’s a reasonable chance it’ll be a language we know.”

“You said some of the recordings survived,” Samakro said. “Any navigational records among them?”

“An excellent question, Mid Captain,” Thrawn said, his voice going grim. “The answer is no. It appears the navigator was the last to die, and erased as many records as he could before the end. The only reason we have the audio recordings is that they were stored in a different location than the others and he apparently missed them.”

Thalias stared at the Void Guide body, a creepy feeling seeping through her. “He didn’t want anyone to know where they’d come from,” she said. “He was working with their enemies.”

“Or was working to keep their enemies from backtracking them,” Samakro suggested.

“No,” Thrawn said. “If that was the situation, the captain would have deleted the records himself. The timestamp indicates that wasn’t the case.”

He turned back to Samakro. “I’ll be here for the next few hours, observing the dissection. I want you to make two copies of the audio records: one for the analyzers and one for my personal examination.”

“Yes, sir,” Samakro said. “With your permission, I’d like to also make an extra copy for myself. Senior Commander Kharill takes over the watch in half an hour, and I can begin listening to it while you watch things down here.”

“Excellent idea, Mid Captain,” Thrawn said. “Thank you.”

He looked at the Void Guide’s body. “He went to some trouble to hide these people and their home from us. Let’s see what we can learn of them despite his efforts.”

Thalias watched as Thrawn examined the bodies, noting the special attention he gave to their clothing and adornments. But once that part was over, and the medics stepped forward with their surgical equipment, she decided she’d had enough.

The suite was dark and quiet as she slipped inside and locked the hatch behind her. She tiptoed across the dayroom, wondering if a hot bath would feel good or if she was too tired to do anything except curl up in bed—

“Thalias?” a tentative voice came from Che’ri’s room.

“I’m here,” Thalias called back softly, changing direction toward the half-open hatchway. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was already awake,” Che’ri said.

“Sorry,” Thalias said. “Are you hungry? Can I get you something to eat?”

“No.” Che’ri hesitated. “I had a nightmare.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said again, opening the hatch all the way and stepping inside. In the faint glow from the luminous escape pod markers, she saw that Che’ri was sitting up in bed, hunched over with her arms hugging one of her pillows to her chest. So much for that hot bath. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I guess not,” Che’ri said. “It’s okay.”

But she was still clutching that pillow. “Come on,” Thalias encouraged as she sat down at the end of the girl’s bed. “Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you one of mine.”

“You had nightmares, too?”

“We all did,” Thalias said. “Just like the overload spells. I don’t know if those things are part of Third Sight itself or if it’s just all the pressure sky-walkers are under. But we all had them.” She patted Che’ri’s knee through the blanket. “Let me guess. You were lost and everyone was mad at you?”

“Almost,” Che’ri said. “I was lost, but they weren’t mad. At least they didn’t say anything. But they kept looking at me. Just…looking.”

“Yes, I had that one, too,” Thalias said ruefully. “No one would talk to me, and they wouldn’t listen. Sometimes they couldn’t even hear me.”

“I remember thinking it was like being stuck in a big soap bubble,” Che’ri said.

Thalias smiled. “That part’s from your bath.”

“What?”

“Your bath,” Thalias repeated. “The soothement bubbles. Your brain picked up on that memory and slapped it into your dream.”

“Really? Brains do things like that?”

“All the time,” Thalias said. “Yours took the soothement bubbles, added in your fears of getting lost, sprinkled on some of the feeling you get on the bridge that none of the grown-ups are paying any attention to you, then baked all of it inside a dream. Pop it from the oven, and there’s your nightmare.”

“Oh.” Che’ri pondered that a moment. “Doesn’t sound so scary that way.”

“Nope,” Thalias agreed. “Almost silly, in fact, once the lights are back on. Doesn’t mean it’s not terrifying when you’re in the middle of it, but it helps make it better when you can figure out the pieces afterward. It’s just your brain and your fears messing with you.”

“Okay.” Che’ri hugged the pillow a little tighter. “Thalias…did you ever get lost?”

Thalias hesitated. How should she answer that? “Not when I was your age,” she said. “I’ll bet you never got lost, either.”

“But you got lost later?”

“I sort of got lost once or twice,” Thalias admitted. “But that was when they already knew my Third Sight was fading, and they were running me through tests inside the Ascendancy. They do that on purpose, because they know that if the sky-walker loses the track it won’t be dangerous to the ship.”

“And then you were done,” Che’ri murmured.

“And I thought my life was over.” Thalias smiled. “But as you see, it wasn’t. Yours won’t be, either.”

“But if I get us lost…?”

“You won’t,” Thalias said firmly.

“What if I do?”

“You won’t,” Thalias said. “Trust me. And trust yourself.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“You have to,” Thalias said. “Uncertainty can be the most difficult and frightening of mental states. If you’re always wondering which way to go, you might freeze up and not go anywhere. If you’re afraid you can’t do something, you might not even try.”

Che’ri shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you don’t have to know anything tonight,” Thalias said. “All you have to do is lie down and try to get back to sleep. You sure I can’t get you something to eat?”

“No, that’s okay,” Che’ri said. She looked down at the pillow in her arms, then shifted it around behind her. “Maybe I’ll draw for a while,” she added, settling herself against the pillow and snagging her questis from the bedside table.

“Sounds good,” Thalias said. “Do you want me to sit with you?”

“No, that’s okay,” Che’ri said. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Thalias said, standing up and backing toward the hatchway. “I’ll leave the door open. If you need anything, just call, okay? And try to sleep.”

“I will,” Che’ri said. “Good night, Thalias.”

“Good night, Che’ri.”

Thalias waited another hour, just in case Che’ri changed her mind and decided she needed something. By the time she finally turned off her light and settled into bed, Che’ri’s own room light was out, and the girl was once again fast asleep.

And of course, because Thalias had talked about them, her own sky-walker nightmares chose that night to come back.

“This just came in, Admiral,” Wutroow said, handing over her questis. “Not entirely sure what it means.”

Ar’alani ran her eyes over the message: Rendezvous with me at the following coordinates as soon as possible. Bring only the Vigilant. Do not hire a navigator.

“I checked the coordinates,” Wutroow continued. “It’s pretty far out. Without a navigator it’ll take four or five days to get there.”

“Not exactly Thrawn’s usual definition of as soon as possible,” Ar’alani agreed. “All right. I assume you signaled Naporar and asked if they could assign us a temporary sky-walker?”

Wutroow nodded. “I did. And—”

“No, no, let me guess,” Ar’alani said. “You got shunted around to at least three different desks until you finally reached someone who said it would be a month before anyone was free?”

“Not exactly,” Wutroow said, her voice odd. “I got sent directly to Supreme General Ba’kif.” She lifted a finger for emphasis. “Not the general’s office. The general.”

“Ba’kif took your call personally?”

“I was rather shocked, too,” Wutroow said. “Especially when he said a sky-walker would be waiting for us when we reach Naporar.”

“Well, that’s one for the archives,” Ar’alani said, frowning. “No fuss or anything?”

“Not about the sky-walker,” Wutroow said. “But there was one other odd thing. When we see Thrawn, we’re supposed to ask about his sky-walker’s caregiver. There’s apparently some confusion as to who she is and how she got the job.”

“Really,” Ar’alani said, looking at the questis note again. So whatever Thrawn was doing was important enough that one of the top people on the Council was taking a personal interest, while at the same time there was something going on under the surface involving his sky-walker and her caregiver.

Naturally, Thrawn would be oblivious to both currents. “Very well,” she said. “Set course for Naporar; best speed we’ve got.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wutroow said.

“And once we’re on the way,” Ar’alani added, handing back the questis, “have the weapons crews start full-service scans on their equipment.”

“You think there’ll be combat at the other end of this trip?”

“Thrawn’s there,” Ar’alani reminded her. “So, yes, I’d say that’s pretty much guaranteed.”