Thrawn Ascendancy Book I: Chaos Rising

CHAPTER SIX

Five hours after the Springhawk went into hiding, Thrawn and Thalias strapped themselves into one of the cruiser’s shuttles and headed across the asteroid cluster toward the dark space station floating in the distance.

“The journey may be a bit tedious,” Thrawn warned as they moved between the floating rocks and dust. “We’ll be using the maneuvering jets exclusively in order to avoid any thruster plumes that our adversaries might detect. That makes for a slower trip.”

“I understand,” Thalias said.

“Still, it gives us a chance to talk in private,” Thrawn continued. “How are you finding your job as caregiver?”

“It’s challenging,” Thalias admitted, a quiet warning bell going off in the back of her mind. Thrawn could have called her into his office at any point since leaving the Ascendancy if he just wanted to talk in private.

Did he know about that last-minute conversation with Thurfian, and the deal the syndic had forced on her? “Che’ri’s pretty easy to live with, but there are some things every sky-walker deals with that can be difficult.”

“Nightmares?”

“And headaches and occasional mood swings,” Thalias said. “Along with just being a nine-year-old.”

“Especially one who’s vital to the functioning of the ship and knows it?”

“Right—the horror stories of sky-walker arrogance and demands,” Thalias said scornfully. “Pure ice-cap legend. I’ve never met anyone who’s actually seen that happen. Every sky-walker I’ve known has gone the opposite direction.”

“Feelings of inadequacy,” Thrawn said. “The fear that she won’t measure up to what her captain and ship require of her.”

Thalias nodded. Like the nightmares, those were feelings she remembered all too well. “Sky-walkers are always worried that they’ll get the ship lost or do something else wrong.”

“Though the record indicates very few such incidents,” Thrawn said. “And most of the affected ships eventually returned safely via jump-by-jump.” He paused. “I presume Che’ri isn’t facing any challenges that you yourself didn’t also have to overcome?”

“No,” Thalias said with a quiet sigh. She really hadn’t expected Thrawn to let her aboard without checking up on her, but she’d still sort of hoped he’d somehow miss the fact that she’d once been a sky-walker. “Aside from the whole flying-into-possible-danger part.”

“Danger is an implicit part of what we do.”

“Except that you all volunteered for this life,” Thalias said. “We sky-walkers weren’t given that choice.”

Thrawn was silent a moment. “You’re right, of course,” he said. “The greater good of the Ascendancy is the rationale. Also the truth, of course. But the fact remains.”

“It does,” Thalias said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think any of us begrudges our service. I mean, aside from the fears and nightmares and all. And the Ascendancy does need us.”

“Perhaps,” Thrawn said.

She frowned at him. “Just perhaps?”

“A conversation for another day,” Thrawn said. “Display Four. Do you see it?”

She turned her attention to the control panel in front of them. Display Four…that one.

Centered in the display was a small heat source. A heat source coming from an orbital position near the system’s inhabited planet.

A heat source the computer calculated was coming directly toward them.

“They’ve spotted us,” she breathed, her heart suddenly thudding in her throat.

“Perhaps,” Thrawn said, still sounding thoughtful. “The timing certainly suggests that, as it was only thirty seconds ago that the ship ran its thrusters to this level of power.”

“It’s coming straight toward us,” she said, feeling a sudden surge of claustrophobia in the cockpit’s tight grasp. They were in a shuttle, not a combat ship, with no weapons, no defenses, and all the maneuverability of a fen slug. “What do we do?”

“That may depend on who they are, and where they’re going,” Thrawn said.

Thalias frowned at the display. “What do you mean? They’re coming toward us, aren’t they?”

“They could also be heading toward the Springhawk,” Thrawn said. “Or possibly it’s merely a scheduled run to the mining station and the timing is purely coincidental. At their distance, and at this point in their path, it’s impossible to more precisely define their ultimate endpoint.”

“So what do we do?” Thalias asked. “Can we get back to the Springhawk in time?”

“Possibly,” Thrawn said. “The more immediate question is whether we want to.”

“Whether we want to?” Thalias repeated, staring at him.

“We came here to find out if this is the origin point of the doomed refugees,” Thrawn reminded her. “My intent was to study the mining station, but a direct conversation would be quicker and more informative.”

“Only if they don’t shoot us on sight.”

“They might try,” Thrawn said. “Tell me, have you ever fired a charric?”

Thalias swallowed hard. “I practiced with one a few times at the range,” she said. “But always on low power, never on high.”

“There’s not much operational difference between those settings.” Thrawn tapped a few keys on his console. “Well. Unless the ship increases its speed in the next two hours, we should arrive at the station twenty to thirty minutes ahead of it.”

“What if it’s aiming for the Springhawk?” Thalias asked. “Shouldn’t we warn them?”

“I’m sure Mid Captain Samakro has already noted them,” Thrawn assured her. “Even if they’ve spotted the Springhawk—and there’s a good chance they haven’t—I think there’s a way to make sure our visitors stop by the station first.”

“How?”

Thrawn smiled. “We invite them in.”

The mining station was equipped with several docking ports, grouped together at various points around its surface. One cluster included two of the so-called “universal ports” that many species in the region had adopted over the centuries to accommodate varying sizes of ships. Thrawn docked the shuttle with one of them, waited until the bioclear system had run the usual toxin/biohazard check on the station’s air, then led the way inside.

Thalias had expected the place to smell old and musty, perhaps with the pungent scent of rotted food or—worse—rotted bodies. But while there was a definite hint of staleness, it was hardly overwhelming. Whenever the owners of the station had pulled out, they’d apparently done so in an orderly fashion.

“This is the place,” Thrawn said softly, shining his light into alcoves and rooms as they walked down a wide corridor. “This is where they came from.”

“The refugee ships?” Thalias asked.

“Yes,” Thrawn confirmed. “The style is unmistakable.”

“Mm,” Thalias said. She’d looked at everything he had, and she didn’t have a clue as to what he was picking up on. “What now?”

“We go to the main control center,” Thrawn said, picking up his pace. “That’s where our visitors are most likely to dock.”

“How are we going to find it?”

“We’ve passed two floor schematics on the walls since we left the shuttle,” Thrawn said, frowning slightly at her. “The main command and control centers were obvious.”

Thalias made a face. Not just one floor schematic, but two of them?

Okay. So maybe she hadn’t seen everything he had.

They found the control center exactly where Thrawn had predicted it would be. The controls and consoles were labeled with an unfamiliar script, but everything seemed laid out in a logical pattern. A little trial and error with the controls, and suddenly the room blazed with light.

“That’s better,” Thalias said, putting away her own light. “What now?”

“This,” Thrawn said, throwing a few more switches. “If I’ve read the console organization correctly, we should now have turned on the station’s external lights.”

Thalias stared at him. “You—? But that ship will see us.”

“I told you I was going to invite them in,” Thrawn reminded her. “More important, our lights will hopefully distract them from the Springhawk, should its hiding place have been their original destination.”

“I see,” Thalias said, freshly aware of the charric riding her hip. “You’re not expecting to fight them, are you?”

“I’m hoping to avoid that, yes,” Thrawn said. “The equipment bay with the largest docking ports is at the portside edge of the station. We’ll wait for them there.” With a final look around the control center, he headed for a hatch leading in that direction.

Taking a few deep, calming breaths, Thalias followed.

The equipment bay was larger than Thalias had expected, though with the cranes, maneuvering lifters, overhead cables, and lines of tool and part racks there was also less open space than she’d anticipated. She and Thrawn had just settled themselves in front of the main port when there was a wheeze of vented air and the port began to cycle. “Here they come,” she muttered, peering past Thrawn’s shoulder as he stood in front of her, partially blocking her view. They hold their females in high esteem, Thrawn had said of the aliens they were tracking. If he was right, his protective position in front of her would hopefully connect to that cultural bias.

“Yes.” Thrawn paused, his head cocked as if listening.

Then, to Thalias’s surprise, he slipped around behind her, reversing their original positions so that she was now in front.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, a fresh sense of vulnerability flooding into her. The people about to come in, and whatever weapons they might be carrying—

The hatch dilated, and four creatures emerged.

Medium height, chest and hip bulges, pink skin, feathery head crests. Exactly like the bodies Thrawn had brought aboard the Springhawk from the second refugee ship.

He had indeed found them.

For a moment the two groups eyed each other. Then one of the newcomers spoke, his voice gravelly, his words incomprehensible.

“Do you speak Minnisiat?” Thrawn called back in that trade language.

The alien spoke again, still using his own speech. “Do you speak Taarja?” Thrawn asked, switching to that one.

There was a short pause. Then one of the other aliens took a step forward. “I speak this,” he said. “What do you do here?”

“We are explorers,” Thrawn said. “My name is Thrawn.” He nudged Thalias. “Tell them your name.”

“I am Thalias,” Thalias said, taking the cue and giving only her core name. For whatever reason, Thrawn apparently didn’t want to give out their full names.

The alien’s eyes widened and bulged a little as he seemed to study her. “You are female?”

“I am,” Thalias said.

The alien gave a whinnying sort of snort. “So do you, Thrawn, then hide behind your female?”

“Not at all,” Thrawn said. “I’m shielding her with my body from those you sent to shoot us in the back.”

Thalias caught her breath. “You’re joking, right?” she muttered.

She sensed him shake his head. “I felt the shift in the air as they entered the secondary hatch behind us.”

Thalias nodded to herself. Just as he’d quickly absorbed the feel of the Tomra all those years ago, he’d now just as quickly grasped the same details of this alien station.

“We plan no violence,” the alien spokesman said hastily. “Merely caution. Your arrival was unexpected, and we were concerned for our safety.”

“I apologize in turn for our startlement to you,” Thrawn said. “We thought this station was abandoned. That is why we came.”

The alien gave another whinny, a shorter one this time. “If you sought to build a home here, you chose unwisely. Even now, it may be too late for you to reverse that error.”

“We did not come to live,” Thrawn said. “As I said, we are explorers. We search the Chaos for artwork of the lost and forgotten.”

The mottling pattern of the alien’s skin changed. “You search for artwork?”

“Artwork reflects the soul of a species,” Thrawn said. “We seek to preserve that echo for those unable to preserve it on their own.”

One of the other aliens spoke in their language. “He speaks that there is no artwork here,” the spokesman translated.

“Perhaps there is more art woven into the design than he realizes,” Thrawn said. “But I am puzzled. I see no evidence of catastrophe or destruction. On the contrary, the station appears completely functional. Why did you abandon it?”

“We did not abandon it,” the spokesman said, his voice noticeably deeper. “We were sent away by those who seek dominance over Rapacc and the Paccosh.”

“Rapacc is your world, then?” Thrawn asked. “And you are the Paccosh?”

“We are,” the spokesman said. “At least, for this current moment. The Paccosh may yet cease to exist. The future of each and every Pacc rests in the hands of the Nikardun, and we fear to contemplate it.”

“The Nikardun are those who followed us across your system?” Thrawn asked.

Another whinny. “If you believe they merely followed you, your ignorance is indeed deep. Their intent was to capture or destroy you.”

Thalias felt a shiver run up her back. As far as she could remember, she’d never heard even a hint of information about a species with that name. Definitely outside the immediate neighborhood, and very likely outside even the wider region the Expansionary Fleet had explored.

And if this was how they introduced themselves—blocking access to whole systems and chasing down and slaughtering anyone who succeeded in leaving—they weren’t likely to become friends of the Ascendancy anytime soon.

“Yet they must hold you and your world in loose hands,” she pointed out, the angular Taarja words hurting her mouth. Taarja had been her least favorite trade language during her schooling, but the Mitth family insisted that their merit adoptives learn all the region’s most common forms of communication. “Otherwise, how are you here speaking with us?”

“You think we traveled here of our own free will?” the spokesman asked, ducking his head just a bit toward her. “You think we ourselves removed the weapons and defenses from the ship we arrived in? Hardly. The Nikardun ships guarding the approaches to Rapacc did not recognize the design of your ship. They thought this station might still have sensors running that may have gleaned important details when your ship passed nearby. We were ordered here to learn if such records were indeed made.”

“Were they correct?” Thrawn asked.

“Correct about the sensors?” The spokesman paused, his eyes flicking between them. “Why do you ask? Do you wish the details of your ship to remain secret?”

“It is said there are those who can deduce the origin of a ship from its design and style of flight,” Thrawn said. “The unknown leader of these Nikardun may be one such.”

“Their leader is hardly unknown,” the Pacc said, a hint of disgust in his tone. “General Yiv the Benevolent has personally come to Rapacc to speak his demands to and share his gloatings with our leaders.”

“Such actions speak of supreme confidence,” Thrawn said. “Will he return soon?”

“I do not know,” the Pacc said. “But more Nikardun will surely come, and if we are not compliant with the orders of those currently here it will go badly for us.”

And if the Paccosh failed to capture the strangers who’d blown past the sentry ships and sneaked aboard their station, Thalias suspected, things would probably go even worse. “What are you going to do with us?” she asked.

The spokesman turned back to the others, and for a moment they all consulted together. “Well done,” Thrawn said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Thalias asked.

“That question was better coming from you than from me,” he said. “Their consideration for females may modify their answer and influence their decision in our favor.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then the charrics,” Thrawn said, his voice calm but determined. “You’ll deal with those in front of us. I’ll do likewise with the ones behind.”

Thalias’s mouth went suddenly dry. “You mean just shoot them down?”

“We are two,” Thrawn said. “They are four, plus however many are currently unseen and unnumbered behind us. If they decide to take us prisoner, our only chance will be immediate and lethal attack.”

A cold chill ran up Thalias’s back. Getting pulled into a firefight, shooting and being shot at, had been a terrifying prospect. But at least she could have gone into a heated battle with a mostly clear conscience.

What Thrawn was talking about was straight-up, coldhearted murder.

The Paccosh ended their discussion. “We have no orders regarding intruders,” the spokesman said. “We were sent only to examine the sensors.” The other alien said a few words. “But we presume the Nikardun would have required your capture if they had known you were here.”

“Perhaps,” Thrawn said. “The more important question is: What do the Paccosh require?”

The spokesman turned to the others. Thalias lifted her hand to her hair, pretending to adjust a few strands, hopefully drawing a bit of extra attention to herself.

“If you allow us to depart, I will make sure the Nikardun do not detect us,” Thrawn added into the silence.

“How can you be sure of that?”

“They did not detect our arrival at this place,” Thrawn said. “I doubt they will be more attentive now.”

“Surely they saw you turn on the station lights.”

“Surely you can remotely activate those systems,” Thrawn countered.

The spokesman considered, then inclined his head. “Yes. We can.” He hissed out a breath. “The commander has decided. You may leave in peace.”

Thalias let her own breath out in a silent sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said.

“You have not yet answered my earlier question,” Thrawn said. “Are the station’s sensors still operating?”

The spokesman whinnied. “In weeks past, the Nikardun ordered us to shut down the station before abandoning it,” he said. “With the lives of each and every Pacc lying beneath their sword, we obeyed our orders to the letter. There are no functioning sensors.”

“That is well,” Thrawn said. “Farewell, then, and may you yet find freedom and peace.” Touching Thalias’s arm, he nodded back toward the hatchway that would return them to their shuttle.

“Wait.”

Thalias turned back. The Pacc who’d done all the non-Taarja speaking earlier, the one she’d tentatively identified as the group’s leader, was walking toward them. She started to take a step backward, stopped as Thrawn again touched her arm.

“This is Uingali,” the spokesman said as the Pacc stopped in front of Thrawn. “He has something he wishes to give you.”

For a moment Uingali stood motionless. Then, with clear reluctance, he lifted both hands in front of him, one hand tugging at the fingers of the other. A moment later he’d slid a double ring off two of the fingers, the twin circlets connected by a short, flexible mesh. Another moment of hesitation, and he held the double ring toward Thrawn. “Uingali foar Marocsaa,” he said.

“The double ring is a prized heirloom of the Marocsaa subclan,” the spokesman said quietly. “Uingali wishes you to take it and add it to your artwork, that the subclan and the Marocsaa people will not be forgotten.”

For the first time since Thalias had met him, Thrawn seemed genuinely surprised. He looked at Uingali, then at the rings, then at Uingali again. Then, he held out his hand, palm upward. “Thank you,” he said. “I will guard it in a place of honor.”

Uingali lowered his head in a bow as he placed the double ring in Thrawn’s hand. He straightened up, turned, and walked back toward the other Paccosh. They turned in unison as he passed them, and all four headed through the hatchway. There was a brush of air behind Thalias, and she jerked as three other Paccosh, apparently Uingali’s backup force, walked silently past the two Chiss and joined their comrades. They all disappeared from sight, the hatch closing behind them.

Thalias peered at the double ring in Thrawn’s palm. It was made of a silvery metal, with a series of curved arcs embossed on the base. A cluster of what looked like small snakes rose from the center of the arcs, flanked by two much larger snakes that curved up and around, crossing each other once and ending with their heads and open mouths pointed defiantly upward.

She was still studying the rings when the lights around them abruptly went out. “What—? Oh,” she added belatedly. “Remote controls.”

“Uingali reinforcing the illusion for any Nikardun observers,” Thrawn said as he flicked on his own light. “Come.”

He turned and strode toward the hatchway.

“We’re heading back already?” Thalias asked as she hurried to keep up with him.

“We have everything Supreme General Ba’kif sent us to find,” Thrawn said. “The murdered refugees were Paccosh from the Rapacc system, their oppressors are called the Nikardun, and the Nikardun leader is General Yiv the Benevolent.” He seemed to consider. “Plus perhaps a few additional facts that Ba’kif wasn’t expecting.”

“Such as?”

Thrawn was silent for another few steps. “We located the Paccosh partly because the refugees’ ship came from this general direction. We also presume that the Nikardun followed them or in some other way anticipated their arrival in the Ascendancy, then ordered the attack on Csilla in order to distract our attention from the Paccosh destruction.”

Thalias nodded. “That makes sense.”

“But that leads to another question,” Thrawn said. “How did the Nikardun know to stage their ambush at that particular spot?”

“Well…” Thalias paused, trying to think it through. “We know the two Paccian ships rendezvoused in the four-star system before the one ship headed for the Ascendancy. Maybe the captain decided we were their best shot at getting help, especially with one of the two ships unable to keep going. Don’t know how they knew where we were, though.”

“Many of the aliens out here know about us, or at least have a general idea where we are,” Thrawn said. “Though our reputation often precedes any actual knowledge. You’ll note the Paccosh didn’t seem to recognize that we were Chiss. But you miss the critical point of my question. The refugee ship left hyperspace much farther out in the system than was necessary. Far enough that they would have needed several hours of space-normal travel before they were even close enough to initiate communication.” He paused. “And far enough that while their slaughter was detected, there was no chance that any of the patrol ships could respond in time.”

Thalias breathed a curse as it suddenly became clear. “The only way the Nikardun could be waiting for the ship is if the refugees’ navigator deliberately brought them out of hyperspace there.” She frowned. “They did have a navigator, didn’t they?”

“I assume so,” Thrawn said. “Presumably a Void Guide, like the second ship’s. Note also the fact that we found no such body aboard the first ship.”

He paused again, clearly expecting Thalias to follow his path of logic. “The Nikardun took him with them?” she offered.

“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “Was he dead, or alive?”

Thalias chewed at her lip. How was she supposed to know that?

For that matter, why was Thrawn even going through this logic puzzle with her, especially this way? It was like the schoolwork classes she’d had to take as an occasionally reluctant sky-walker, or the same classes she was now having to inflict on an even more reluctant Che’ri.

“The Paccosh aboard the other ship died much later than those who were attacked in the Ascendancy,” he prompted.

Thalias nodded as she finally saw where he was going. Especially since the second group had asphyxiated instead of being murdered like the first group. “He was dead,” she said. “If he’d been alive, he’d have told the Nikardun where the other ship was and they’d have moved in and slaughtered them, too, instead of letting them die on their own.”

“Excellent,” Thrawn said. “We also glean the fact that it was the Paccosh, not the Void Guides, who chose the four-star system as their rendezvous.”

“Okay,” Thalias said, frowning. “How does that help us?”

“It may not,” Thrawn conceded. “But sometimes small bits of knowledge return in unexpected ways.” He gestured ahead. “At any rate, I believe we’ve learned all that we’re going to here. A stealthy return to the Springhawk is now in order, followed by a hopefully unimpeded exit from the system.”

“The Nikardun will be watching,” Thalias warned.

“Agreed,” Thrawn said. “But after the Vigilant’s incursion, I expect the Nikardun will have pulled their sentry lines closer into the inner system. Our escape should be straightforward, as should our rendezvous with the Vigilant to retrieve our sky-walker.”

“And then back to the Ascendancy?”

Thrawn looked down at the double ring in his hand. “Not right away,” he said. “No, I think we’ll go to a Navigators’ Guild concourse and hire ourselves a navigator.”

Thalias frowned. “You already said we’ll have Che’ri.”

“In case we need her,” Thrawn said. “But the Paccosh indicated there may be more Nikardun ships arriving in the near future. There’s something I want to do before that happens.”

“Ah,” Thalias said carefully. Unless the fleet had changed the rules since she was a sky-walker, a captain who wanted to expand the scope of a mission was supposed to first get authorization.

But that really wasn’t any of her business. “You’re looking for a Void Guide?”

“No,” Thrawn said. He fingered the ring one last time, then put it carefully into a pocket. “No, I think there’s someone who will be far more useful to us.”