Thrawn Ascendancy Book I: Chaos Rising

MEMORIES XIII

It was, Ar’alani knew, necessary that she and Thrawn have a talk about what had happened at Solitair. But she managed to find enough excuses to put it off until they were nearly home.

Finally, she couldn’t delay it any further.

“I should have seen it,” Thrawn said, his eyes fixed on an otherwise unremarkable corner of Ar’alani’s office. “I should have seen the signs.”

“No,” Ar’alani said. “I should have. But not you.”

“Because you’re more experienced?”

“Because you don’t understand politics,” Ar’alani said. “Politics, vying for position, feuds, grudges, ledger balancing—they’re all things you’ve never gotten a solid grip on.”

“But why not?” Thrawn asked. “I don’t disagree; but it’s all strategy and tactics. Just a different form of warfare. Why can’t I read it?”

“Because the techniques of warfare are relatively straightforward,” Ar’alani said. “You identify the objective, you gather allies and resources, you devise a strategy, and you defeat the enemy. But in politics, allies and goals are constantly shifting. Unless you can anticipate those changes, you can’t prepare for them.”

“Alliances can shift in warfare, too.”

“But it takes time to move ships and armies around and reconfigure battle lines,” Ar’alani said. “You have that time to adapt to the new landscape. In politics, it’s all done with words and bits of writing. Half an hour of conversation—less than that if there are bribes involved—and everything has changed.”

“I see.” Thrawn took a long breath. “Then I need to study this form of combat. Study it, and master it.”

“That would be helpful,” Ar’alani said.

Only he never would master it, she knew. Just as some were tone-deaf to music, Thrawn was tone-deaf to the nuances and intricate self-serving dances that made up the world of politics.

She could only hope that he and his overseers would be astute enough to keep him in the military arena. There, and only there, would he be of genuine and lasting value to the Ascendancy.

Thurfian had had to swallow a lot of bitter quaffs during his years of dealing with Ascendancy politics. But this quaff was absolutely the worst of all.

“A Trial-born,” he said to the man facing him from the comm display. “After the fiasco with the Lioaoi and Garwians, you’re making him a Trial-born?”

“We have no choice,” Speaker Thistrian said heavily. “The Irizi are making serious overtures to him.”

“They already tried that,” Thurfian said. “He turned them down.”

“Never officially,” the Speaker said. “And that offer was just to make him a Trial-born. Now I understand they’re preparing to offer him ranking distant.”

Thurfian felt his eyes widen. “A ranking distant? That’s absurd.”

“Maybe so. Maybe not. And even Thrawn isn’t blind enough to miss the political advantages that would give him. All we can do is hope that he’d prefer Trial-born of the Mitth to ranking distant of the Irizi.”

“They’re bluffing,” Thurfian insisted. “They’re trying to maneuver us into drawing him in and tying him closer to the family. The closer in he is, the bigger the political fallout when he makes his next big mistake.”

“Maybe he won’t.”

“Won’t make a mistake?” Thurfian snorted. “You don’t believe that any more than I do. The man’s a menace. Give him enough lead time, and he’ll burn himself down. And maybe the Mitth along with him.”

“Or maybe he’ll do something that raises the Ascendancy to heights it’s never before achieved.”

Thurfian stared at him. “You’re joking, right? To heights it’s never achieved?”

“It could happen,” the Speaker said ruefully. “And if it does, we can’t afford to risk that glory shining on the Irizi instead of us.”

“With all due respect, Speaker, there won’t be any glory,” Thurfian said. “Certainly the Council isn’t looking at all this with starry eyes. They’ve already demoted him back to mid commander.”

“But they’ve also given him another ship,” Thistrian said.

For the second time in less than a minute, Thurfian felt his eyes widen. “They’ve what?”

“A full-rank heavy cruiser this time, too, the Springhawk,” the Speaker confirmed. “On top of that, there’s talk of also giving him his own combat group, Picket Force Two.”

Thurfian stared at the Speaker, a chill running through him. “Who’s doing this?” he asked, his throat tight. “Someone’s burning serious political capital here. Who?”

“I don’t know,” the Speaker said heavily. “On the fleet side, best guess is that it’s General Ba’kif or possibly Admiral Ja’fosk. On the Mitth side—” He shook his head. “It has to be someone close to the Patriarch.”

“Could it be the Patriarch himself?”

“I would hesitate to put that name to it,” the Speaker said. “But I also wouldn’t dismiss that thought out of hand. Certainly Thrawn’s life and career have been charmed from the very beginning.”

“It’s still madness,” Thurfian said. “His failures and embarrassments still outweigh his successes.”

“I would tend to agree,” the Speaker said. “But there’s madness, and then there’s madness. I looked into Picket Two’s current assignment, and it turns out they’re working a patrol zone a fair distance past the Ascendancy’s east-zenith edge. That would put him far away from the center of Ascendancy politics.”

Thurfian ran that over in his mind. Given Thrawn’s political ineptness, that wouldn’t be the worst assignment they could give him. “It’s also on the far side of the Ascendancy from the Lioaoi and Garwians.”

“Another plus, in my estimation,” the Speaker said. “Mostly what’s out there are small nations, single-system groups, empty space, and pirates.”

“Great,” Thurfian said sourly. “More pirates.”

“But on that side of the Ascendancy, the only nations large enough to support a pirate group are the Paataatus,” the Speaker pointed out. “That means less potential for political entanglements if he goes hunting. Besides, he’s already demonstrated he can beat the frost out of the Paataatus if he needs to, and they know it.”

“I suppose,” Thurfian said. “The Council could still have sent him out there without giving him a ship.”

“Perhaps,” the Speaker said. “Still, the Springhawk’s hardly a major prize. There’s no glory to be had there, just the pressures and responsibilities of command. All things considered, it could have been worse.”

“Really?” Thurfian countered. Commander of a cruiser and Trial-born of the Mitth. If it could have been worse, he could hardly see how.

But it wasn’t over. Not nearly. If Thrawn rebuffed the Irizi again—and if Speaker Thistrian was right that that was a pretty foregone conclusion—it would put Aristocra Zistalmu even more solidly on Thurfian’s side. Together, they would continue their efforts to derail Thrawn’s career before he did something the Ascendancy might never recover from.

And while they were only two right now, Thurfian had no doubt that more Aristocra would join them in the days and years ahead. If there was one love they all shared, above and beyond all the family politics and squabbling, it was love of the Ascendancy.

“Look at the bright side, Thurfian,” the Speaker said into his thoughts. “Whatever Thrawn does next, at least it’ll be entertaining to watch.”

“I’m sure it will,” Thurfian said grimly. “I just hope we all live through it.”