Thrawn Ascendancy Book I: Chaos Rising

MEMORIES VI

General Ba’kif finished reading through the proposal and looked up from his questis. “You’re serious, Junior Commander,” he said flatly.

“Quite serious, General,” Junior Commander Thrawn confirmed. “I’m convinced the Lioaoin government is connected to the pirates that have hit our shipping off Schesa and Pesfavri over the past few months.”

“And you think this Pathfinder knows about it?”

“Qilori,” Thrawn said. “Yes, he knows, or at least suspects.”

“It would be hard to keep a secret like that from the Navigators’ Guild,” Ba’kif agreed, again studying the numbers. A jump-by-jump from Lioaoin space to the affected Ascendancy worlds would certainly be safer for those with criminal intent—no need to involve outside witnesses. But such a voyage would take at least three weeks of travel each way. Under the circumstances, it wasn’t unreasonable that the pirates might opt for speed and efficiency, relying on guild confidentiality to keep their secret. “You’re sure the ships are the same?”

“The designs are different enough to preclude obvious connections,” Thrawn said. “But there are notable similarities that go beyond mere functionality.”

Ba’kif nodded. He’d had a couple of conversations with Mid Captain Ziara about Thrawn’s theories of art and tactics, and they’d reluctantly concluded that neither of them had whatever spark of insight or genius—or insanity—was required to make the connections that Thrawn seemed to intuitively grasp.

But just because they couldn’t see it didn’t mean he was wrong. “Assume you’re right,” he said. “Further assume you can prove it. What then?”

A frown creased Thrawn’s forehead. “They’ve attacked ships of the Ascendancy,” he said, as if expecting a hidden trap in Ba’kif’s words. “We deal out punishment.”

“And if the Lioaoi themselves aren’t involved?” Ba’kif asked. “What if the pirates merely bought or hired Lioaoin ships?”

“I wasn’t suggesting we attack the Lioaoin Regime or worlds,” Thrawn said. “Merely the pirates.”

“If you can distinguish them from the innocents,” Ba’kif warned. “We have little data on current Lioaoin ship design. For that matter, the Lioaoi and pirates both could have bought the same style ship from a third party.”

“I understand,” Thrawn said. “But I believe I’ll be able to make it clear which ships are enemies and which are friends.”

“I’ll settle for which are enemies and which are neutrals,” Ba’kif said sourly. “The Ascendancy has barely even acknowledged the existence of others out there, let alone shown any interest in pursuing friendships with any of them.”

“Enemies and neutrals, then,” Thrawn amended. “If I can’t make a clear distinction, I’ll take no action.”

For a moment Ba’kif eyed him. The man was clever enough, and Ba’kif had seen his strategic and tactical abilities.

The question was whether he had perhaps just a little too much confidence in himself. If he did, and if that confidence made him overstep the line, some operation in the future could blow up in his face. Possibly the very operation he was now proposing.

But this particular group of pirates was becoming more than just a nuisance. They needed to be dealt with before someone out there got the idea that the Ascendancy could be attacked with impunity. If Thrawn thought he’d found the handle they needed, it was worth giving him a shot. “Very well, Junior Commander,” he said. “How many ships will you need?”

“Just two, sir.” Thrawn considered. “No. Actually, it would be best if I had three.”

The sense of the Great Presence faded, and Qilori removed his headset to find that they’d arrived. The heartworld of the Lioaoin Regime stretched out before them, green and blue and white, encircled by a swarm of freighters, couriers, docking and repair stations, and watchful military patrol ships.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thrawn lean forward. “Well?” Qilori asked carefully.

For a few seconds, Thrawn was silent. Then he nodded. “Yes,” he said. “These are the ships.”

Qilori winced, his cheek winglets stiffening. “Are you certain?”

“Quite certain,” Thrawn said. “The design of the patrol craft are similar enough to those of the pirate ships to leave no doubt.”

“I see,” Qilori said. He didn’t, actually—to him, the patrol ships looked nothing like the ones the Lioaoin corsairs used.

But what he thought didn’t matter. Thrawn was convinced, and if he got word back to the Ascendancy, there was likely to be a highly lethal response. And it was just as likely that more than a few Pathfinders would be caught in the middle.

Whether Thrawn could actually get that word to anyone who mattered, of course, was the crucial question. Their freighter was already deep enough into the planet’s gravity well that the hyperdrive was useless, and their current course was taking them ever deeper. If Thrawn veered off right now and headed back toward deep space, they might get clear before someone started to wonder why a Chiss freighter had suddenly decided it didn’t want to do business with the Lioaoi after all.

But Qilori didn’t hold out much hope that Thrawn would be smart enough to simply cut and run.

Again, he was right.

“I need a closer look,” Thrawn said, taking the helm controls and angling deeper into the gravity well toward a pair of patrol ships floating beside one of the repair docks. “I suspect the ship inside that station is one of those that recently attacked the Massoss system.”

“This is a bad idea,” Qilori warned, his winglets pressing tightly against his cheeks. “If the Lioaoin Regime is involved with the pirates, you risk stirring up a massive stinger nest.”

“Are you saying the regime is involved?” Thrawn asked coolly, turning those glowing red eyes onto Qilori.

Qilori gazed back, cursing himself for saying even that much. The first thing every navigational group learned when it joined the Navigators’ Guild was that it was forbidden to speak about one client to another. The most heinous criminal activity needed to be as safe from exposure as the most innocent freighter passage or military exercise.

But right now, breaches of protocol were the least of Qilori’s worries. Just before they arrived here, right when his trance was lifting, he’d sensed through the Great Presence that there were fellow Pathfinders nearby. If they were aboard some of the corsairs—and if any of those corsairs were prepped for flight—they could follow Qilori effortlessly through hyperspace no matter how many jinks or re-coursings Thrawn tried.

And none of the corsairs were likely to care if silencing a troublesome Chiss also required the death of an innocent Pathfinder.

“I don’t know if the regime is part of it,” he said. “Just trust me when I say this isn’t a safe place to be.”

Thrawn wasn’t listening. He was staring out at the ships and docks, his glowing eyes narrowed slightly.

“I mean it,” Qilori said, trying one final time. “If they suspect you’re hunting pirates—”

“You think they only suspect?” Thrawn echoed. He cocked his head. “Yes; point taken. Let’s remove any lingering doubts.” He keyed the comm—

And suddenly it was as if he’d lost his senses. “Alert!” Thrawn called. “I’ve found the pirates. Repeat: I’ve found them. Get out of here and report back!”

Qilori gasped. What in—? “Thrawn—?”

Thrawn keyed off the comm. “There,” he said, his voice and expression back to their usual coolness. “Now they know for certain.”

“What in the Depths did you do?” Qilori said in a strangled voice. “You’ve just painted a death mark on us. They’ll be coming after us—”

“There they go,” Thrawn said, pointing at a spot on the main display.

Qilori looked at the display in time to see a ship flicker and disappear into hyperspace. “My second ship,” Thrawn identified. “One of my colleagues is aboard, with one of yours navigating it back to the Ascendancy.” He turned the helm yoke over, and the freighter curved smoothly away from the planet. “And now, as you suggest, it’s time to leave.”

“Yes, let’s,” Qilori muttered, slumping in his chair as Thrawn ran the thrusters to full power. The patrol ships were starting to move, and as Qilori looked up at the high-orbit docking bays he saw three corsairs emerge, their own thrusters blazing as they angled toward him and Thrawn, hoping to intercept them before they could escape into hyperspace.

Either Thrawn also saw them or else he’d anticipated the response. He was already on it, shifting the freighter’s course onto a vector that would slip it past the potential trap.

But it would do him no good. The corsairs were on the move, and if there were Pathfinders aboard there was nothing Thrawn could do to prevent them from following him back to Chiss space. They would get him, and the oh-so-clever backup ship that had already left, and the Lioaoin ships would continue to attack and plunder everyone in the region.

Maybe the corsairs would try to rescue Qilori and the other Pathfinder before they destroyed the Chiss ships. Probably they wouldn’t.

But at this point, all he could do was hope. “Where are we going?” he asked as they approached the edge of the gravity well.

“Kinoss,” Thrawn said. “It’s the closest system, and there should be fast couriers there who can take our message to Csilla and Naporar.”

“Fine,” Qilori said, setting his hands on the controls. Maybe one of the two Chiss freighters would at least be able to send a message before the corsairs jammed their transmissions and then destroyed them.

Probably they wouldn’t.

The trance this time was one of the hardest Qilori had ever experienced. On top of the usual course intricacies was an overlaid mesh of dark and distracting images, visions of pursuing ships guided by fellow Pathfinders. He nearly lost the path more times than he cared to remember, and twice he was forced to return to space-normal to regain his connection to the Great Presence.

Thrawn said nothing during those retrenchments. Probably dreaming of glory for ending the pirate menace, or assuming the course stutters would throw off any pursuit.

The other Chiss freighter had already arrived when they finally reached the Kinoss system. Qilori could see its thrusters in the distance ahead, driving the vessel toward the planet. Even as Qilori finished rising from his trance Thrawn had taken the controls and turned to follow.

Futility. Even before the thrusters were up to full power, four Lioaoin corsairs winked into view on the aft display.

“Ah,” Thrawn said, still with that maddening calm. “Our guests have arrived.”

“I’m so surprised,” Qilori muttered.

“I doubt that,” Thrawn said. “I did some study on the Pathfinders after our first encounter. Your colleagues can track you through hyperspace, can they not?”

Qilori shot him a startled look. That was supposed to be a deep, dark secret. “That—no. Not true.”

“I think it is.” Thrawn gestured to the aft display. “The Pathfinder style was evident in the last pirate attack. I hoped you and I would arrive at the Lioaoin heartworld before those navigators were returned to their bases.”

“You wanted them to follow us?”

“Of course,” Thrawn said, as if it was obvious. “With any other navigators there would be uncertainty as to their emergence point, if indeed they were able to follow us at all. With Pathfinders aboard, I could be sure the pirates would arrive precisely where I wanted them.”

“You mean right on top of us?” Qilori retorted. He looked again at the aft display.

And felt his winglets go rigid. Where there had been four ships behind them, there were now five. The four Lioaoin corsairs he’d already seen…and a Chiss warship.

“Mid Captain Ziara, this is Junior Commander Thrawn,” Thrawn called toward the comm. “I believe your targets await you.”

“Indeed they do, Commander,” a soft female voice came back. “I suggest you continue on your present course.

“It should give you the best view of their destruction.”