Thrawn Ascendancy Book I: Chaos Rising

MEMORIES VIII

After all her months aboard the Parala, Ziara had developed a sensitivity to every nuance and subtle movement of her ship, its engines, and its general feel.

What was happening right now was about as unsubtle as it got.

She was five steps behind Mid Captain Roscu as both she and the first officer closed on the bridge. Roscu got there first and ducked through the hatchway—“Thrawn, what in hell’s name are you doing?” she snarled, her voice echoing out into the corridor.

Scowling, Ziara followed her through the hatchway. And so began another wonderful day aboard the Parala.

But this time it was instantly clear that it wasn’t just Roscu verbally bludgeoning a more junior officer from a rival family. The overnight bridge crew was sitting stiffly at their posts as Thrawn stood behind the sky-walker and pilot, his hands clasped behind his back, the swirl of hyperspace washing around the viewport. A quick visual sweep of the status boards showed that he’d brought the ship’s weapons and electrostatic barrier to full readiness, just one step below battle stations.

“I asked you a question, Senior Commander,” Roscu bit out as she strode toward him.

“As you were, Mid Captain,” Ziara called firmly. “Status, Senior Commander?”

“We’ve picked up an urgent distress call from the Garwian colony world Stivic,” Thrawn said. “Security Officer Frangelic says they’re under attack.” He half turned to throw a significant look at Ziara. “By pirates.”

“You know the protocol,” Ziara said as she strode past the glowering Roscu toward Thrawn, her stomach tightening. It was painfully obvious what Thrawn suspected.

And he was probably right. The Garwian worlds were centers of commerce for a number of local species, and Stivic in particular was within easy strike range of the Lioaoin Regime.

She stopped at his side. “You know we can’t do this,” she said, keeping her voice low. “The protocols forbid intervention.”

“I’m hoping direct action won’t be necessary.”

Ziara looked down at the nine-year-old girl in the sky-walker’s chair, her hands moving almost of their own accord as she and her Third Sight guided the Parala through the twisting pathways of hyperspace. “A bluff?”

“Perhaps not even that much,” Thrawn said. “The sudden appearance of a Chiss warship may be enough to frighten them away.”

“And if it isn’t?”

His lips compressed. “Then we do nothing.”

“That’s right,” Ziara said. She raised her voice. “All crew: Battle stations. Bridge, prepare to exit hyperspace.”

Ten seconds later, the sky changed, the star-flares collapsed, and they had arrived.

At the edge of a horrendous battle.

Ziara felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach. Two Garwian patrol ships were standing gamely against three larger attackers, trying to keep them away from the big orbiting merchant-hub station. Nearby, a fourth attacker and a small freighter drifted together, wrapped in a lock-dock, the pirates presumably busily plundering their prey. A handful of other merchant ships were driving frantically for the safety of hyperspace.

“Security Officer Frangelic acknowledges our arrival,” the comm officer reported. “He requests assistance.”

Ziara sighed. But there was nothing for it. “Do not respond,” she ordered. “Repeat: Do not respond.”

“A pity,” Roscu commented, coming up behind Ziara and Thrawn. “There were a couple of nice cafés on that hub. May I remind the captain that there’s no reason for us to be here?”

“So noted,” Ziara said. “Run a check on the electrostatic barrier. I want to be ready in case we’re attacked.”

Roscu was silent a moment, just long enough to show her displeasure and suspicion, just short enough to avoid an insubordination charge. “Yes, Senior Captain,” she said. Turning away, she crossed to the defense station.

“She’s right,” Ziara said. “This is a military situation between two groups of aliens. Happens all the time out here. Nothing for us to get involved with.” She nodded toward the viewport. “As for your perceived threat, I’m not sure the attackers have even noticed us.”

“They’ve noticed,” Thrawn said. “Two of the three attackers have repositioned to allow for quick disengagement, and the freighter-locked one has begun a slow rotation to align his main batteries with us.” He shook his head slowly. “I can beat them, Ziara. I can take all four, right now, without any serious damage to the Parala.”

“Serious is a highly relative term,” Ziara pointed out. “Even if you can, we have no justification. Chiss territory hasn’t been invaded, and we haven’t been attacked.”

“If we move closer, we might be.”

“Deliberate provocation is also disallowed.”

Again, Thrawn shook his head. “I can see it all,” he said, his voice strained. “Their tactics, their patterns, their weaknesses. I could tell you right here, right now, how to beat them.”

“Even at four-to-one odds?”

“The odds don’t matter,” Thrawn said. “I’ve studied Lioaoin art since our first encounter with the pirates. I know their tactics and their battle patterns. I know how they utilize their weapons and defenses, and how they take advantage of an enemy’s mistakes.”

He turned, and Ziara was struck by the intensity of his expression. “No damage,” he said softly. “No damage.”

Ziara turned away from that look to gaze again out the viewport. No damage…except the ruin of his career. And hers, if she gave him permission.

People were fighting and dying out there. True, they were aliens, but Chiss merchants had traded with them and found them to be reasonable enough people. Even the Garwians who didn’t die today, those in the hub station for instance, would have their lives irrevocably changed. The Parala could cut short that destruction, possibly ensure that the Lioaoi would never return.

At the cost of her career.

It still wasn’t too late, she knew. If the rest of the bridge crew could be persuaded to keep quiet…

But of course they wouldn’t. Not with family politics and rivalries coloring everything they did.

Unless there was nothing for them to talk about.

“You say you could tell me how to defeat them,” she murmured, still gazing out at the battle. “Could you tell anyone?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the subtle shift in his stance. “Yes,” he said. “May I remind the captain that the ranging lasers haven’t been checked recently for calibration.”

“I believe you’re right,” she said. Not that the low-power ranging lasers, which gathered distance and velocity data during combat, ever went out of calibration in the first place.

“Request permission to go to secondary command and run a check.”

Ziara swallowed hard. Her career…“Permission granted,” she said. “While you’re there, you’d best make sure all other systems are likewise at battle readiness.”

“Yes, Captain.” With a whisper of displaced air, he turned and headed to the hatchway.

Roscu returned to Ziara’s side. “Getting him off the bridge, I hope?” she asked.

“I sent him to check the weapons sensor systems,” Ziara said.

Roscu snorted. “And you don’t think he’ll be tempted to use them? Because I wouldn’t put that past him.”

“Senior Commander Thrawn understands the protocols.”

“Does he?” Roscu countered. “I wouldn’t have responded to an alien’s distress call if I’d had deck officer duty. I daresay neither would you, Captain.”

“Perhaps not,” Ziara said. “On the other hand, if the battle had been over when we arrived, we are permitted to render humanitarian aid.”

“But the battle isn’t over.” Roscu paused, and Ziara could feel her gaze. “I assume he relinquished his deck officer position when he left the bridge?”

In other words, with Ziara now back in full command, why was the Parala still here? “These pirates appear to be part of the same group I engaged last year off Kinoss,” she told Roscu. “I want to watch their attack, see if they’ve come up with any new weapons or tactics we should be aware of.”

“But we’re not going to intervene?” Roscu pressed.

“Do you feel a need to quote the protocols to me?” Ziara asked mildly.

“No, of course not,” Roscu said, her tone more subdued. “My apologies, Captain.”

“Captain?” the operations officer called from his station. “I’m getting activity on the ranging lasers.”

“It’s all right,” Ziara said. “I’m having the calibration checked.”

“Understood,” the officer said, sounding puzzled. “Did you also order the frequencies to be modulated?”

“Modulated how?” Roscu asked, frowning.

“Just modulated,” the other said. “No particular pattern I can see.”

“He’s probably running them through their full range,” Ziara said, focusing on the battle. The Garwian patrol ships were moving off their stand-and-fight positions, shifting to a sort of corkscrewing over–under flanking move against the three pirates. The pirates turned in response, pitching up and down to bring their weapons to bear.

Only they turned too far, overcompensating and exposing their ventral sides to the Garwians. The defenders opened fire, quick precise bursts of spectrum laser blasts at the attackers’ exposed bellies—

“Multiple hits!” Senior Commander Ocpior snapped from the sensor station. “Pirates’ ventral weapons launchers breached. Venting to space—”

And abruptly both of the targeted pirate ships erupted in fiery blasts as their missile banks exploded.

The third attacker, which had been beginning its own turn, jerked violently as it tried to get clear of the high-speed debris. It had managed to avoid the worst of it when one of the Garwian ships swooped inside its defenses and delivered a devastating salvo. The Garwian barely made it clear before its target suffered its own crippling blast.

Roscu muttered something under her breath. “I’ll be cursed,” she said. “That was…how in hell’s name did they pull that off?”

“Pirates disengaging,” Ocpior reported. “Spinning up their hyperdrives.”

“Acknowledged,” Ziara said. The three crippled ships were angling toward deep space, trying to get away before the Garwians pressed their attack. The fourth pirate had taken the hint, releasing the freighter it had been looting and similarly running for its life.

That fourth ship made it to the safety of hyperspace. None of its companions did.

Ziara took a deep breath. “And now, I believe, we can leave. Helm, set course back to our patrol circuit.”

She turned to Roscu. “I trust you’re relieved, Mid Captain Roscu?” she added.

Roscu was still staring out at the remnants of the battle, a disbelieving expression on her face. “Relieved, Captain?” she asked mechanically.

“Those cafés you mentioned,” Ziara said. “Looks like they’re still in business.”