Thrawn Ascendancy Book I: Chaos Rising

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“They’re not happy with you, you know,” Thalias warned as she set the plate of warmed yapel triangles in front of Che’ri. It was dinnertime, which was supposed to mean a proper balanced meal, but Che’ri had wanted yapels and Thalias had decided that one meal of junk food wouldn’t kill her. Heaven knew the girl had earned some indulgence. “I talked to Admiral Ar’alani before she went into the hearing. She said some of the Aristocra want to bring charges against you for putting a sky-walker at risk.”

“I know,” Thrawn said. “But that sentiment won’t go anywhere. As I already told them, I sent you and Che’ri to Primea to return the Vak fighter and deliver a message, fully expecting that you would return to Csilla on the next available transport. It was Yiv’s decision that put you at risk.”

Thalias nodded. That was true enough, as far as it went.

But at this point it almost didn’t matter. The Aristocra could be as furious as they wanted, but the outpouring of gratitude from the Vaks had pulled the momentum from the hope they could mete out any real punishment.

That, and the fact that Thrawn had delivered Yiv alive for interrogation. Thalias had no idea what the Council and Aristocra had learned from him and from the datafiles they’d pulled from the Deathless, but Yiv had struck Thalias as the sort who loved to put his own brilliance on display, even if the only person allowed to see and appreciate that brilliance was himself. She had no doubt that the records of his self-indulgence included his precise plans for the Ascendancy.

“At least you’re getting better at politics,” she said. “Between the Aristocra and the Vaks, you’re learning how to play the game.”

Thrawn shook his head. “Hardly. Ar’alani and General Ba’kif are handling the dealings with the Aristocra. As to the Vaks, that was never strictly about politics.”

“I still don’t understand that part,” Che’ri said around a mouthful of food. “Everyone said they want to see all sides of things. But then they just took our side and attacked the Nikardun when we asked them to.”

“Actually, the solution also came from the admiral,” Thrawn said. “At the last moment, she saw something that I hadn’t.”

Thalias sat up a little straighter. “You missed something?”

“I miss many things,” he said. “And I did have part of it, of course. The Vaks want to see all the various points of view—all the different thought lines—just as everyone says. But those thought lines aren’t given equal weight.”

Thalias thought back to the artwork she and Thrawn had seen in the Primea art gallery. “But you said their artwork showed the whole thought line thing,” she objected.

“True,” Thrawn said. “But if all lines were given equal weight, their art would be a scribble of confusion, with no direction or focus.”

“So they decide which thought lines they like best?” Che’ri asked.

“Which ones they like, but more important which ones they trust. There’s really nothing surprising about that. No matter what people might say, they always make value judgments of the information and opinions they receive. They couldn’t function otherwise.”

“I see,” Che’ri said, brightening. “When you showed them that Yiv had stolen your message to them—that he lied—he stopped being someone they could trust.”

“Exactly,” Thrawn said. “Even worse from his point of view, as soon as that happened everything else he’d said became suspect.”

“So all his promises and negotiations went straight out the vent,” Thalias said.

“Correct,” Thrawn said.

“So what was it Admiral Ar’alani saw?” Thalias asked.

“She’d been looking into Vak history, and saw something odd,” Thrawn said. “For all the contempt their neighbors heaped on them over the years, on the grounds that they can’t make a decision, all of those neighbors have been very careful in their confrontations to never kill a Vak in combat.”

Thalias glanced at Che’ri, saw her own surprise reflected in the girl’s face. “Really?”

“Really,” Thrawn said. “Because they knew the same thing Ar’alani realized. The Vaks value everyone’s thought lines…but when someone is killed, their thought lines are gone forever. That robs the whole of the Combine of information, and threatens the culture.”

“So an attack on any individual is an attack on the whole society,” Thalias said, nodding.

“Exactly,” Thrawn said. “Whether or not Yiv realized that, the commander of the Battle Dreadnought who’d been tasked with destroying the Springhawk apparently didn’t care about such subtleties. Ar’alani was able to lure him into firing on a pair of noncombatant Vak ships, killing their crews and awakening that cultural fury. At that point, all the rest of the thought lines suddenly faded away, with only one remaining.”

“The one where they join together to protect their world and their people,” Thalias murmured.

“And with the battle coordination plan I’d already given them, there was no fumbling or false starts. They and Ar’alani’s warships quickly and efficiency joined forces against the Nikardun.”

“And she got all that just from reading history?” Che’ri asked.

“That, and the way she looks at the universe,” Thrawn said with an oddly sad smile. “Where I see non-Chiss as assets, she sees them as people.”

Thalias looked over at Che’ri. A lot of people saw sky-walkers as just assets, too. “Makes her a good commander.”

“Indeed it does,” Thrawn said. “Certainly a better commander than I.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Thalias said. “Different doesn’t necessarily mean better or worse. Different just means different.”

“It was your battle plan, right?” Che’ri put in. “She got them on our side, but it was both of you together who won the fight.”

“Along with the warriors of her attack fleet,” Thrawn said. “Her officers follow her with confidence, even eagerness. Mine follow me because they’re good Chiss warriors.”

“So change,” Thalias suggested. “Learn how she does it.”

“I’m not certain I can.”

“I wasn’t sure I could fly,” Che’ri said. “You taught me how.”

“And you’ve been teaching me how to observe and think,” Thalias added. “As to confidence, if you think Che’ri and I put our heads into Yiv’s trap just because we’re good Chiss warriors, you really don’t understand people. Or at least not us.”

“And may it be a long time before either of you are forced into such trust again,” Thrawn said. “The Ascendancy owes you greatly, Sky-walker Che’ri and Thalias, Trial-born of the Mitth.”

“You’re Trial-born?” Che’ri said, smiling with delight. “Wow! That’s great!”

“Thank you,” Thalias said, blinking at Thrawn. “I didn’t know they’d announced that yet.”

“A blazing-star hero of the Mitth?” Thrawn smiled. “Trust me. If they could have announced you as a ranking distant, they would have. But that time will come.”

“Maybe,” Thalias said.

“Sure it will,” Che’ri said. “We’re heroes. Captain Thrawn just said so.”

“You are indeed.” Thrawn stood up. “And now I need to get back to the bluedock. The Springhawk’s going to need extensive repairs, and I’m told the foreman would like me there in person to hear his report.”

“Thank you for coming by,” Thalias said. “Che’ri and I wanted to hear how it had all ended, but no one had time to talk to us.”

“You’re welcome,” Thrawn said. “I hope you’ll be able to join us aboard the Springhawk again in the near future.”

“If we have anything to say about it, we will,” Thalias promised.

Though that assumed, of course, that she would be allowed to continue as Che’ri’s caregiver. Right now, that was anything but certain.

“Then take care,” he said. Nodding to each of them, he turned and walked through the hatchway.

Thalias watched him go, the Patriarch’s words echoing through her mind. And watch over your commander. I cannot help but feel that he holds the key to the Ascendancy’s future, whether that future be triumph or ultimate destruction.

“Thalias?”

Thalias turned back to see Che’ri frowning at a yapel she’d picked up. “Yes?”

Che’ri eyed the snack another moment, then set it back down on the plate. “I’m finished with these,” she said. “Can I have some real food now?”

“You certainly may,” Thalias said, smiling. “What exactly would you like?”

The trance abruptly ended, and with a start Qilori found himself wrenched from the Great Presence.

He blinked open his eyes. He was still on the bridge of his current ship, nestled into a configured navigator’s seat.

But the lights and displays that should have shown position and status were blank. Somehow, the power to the flight and navigation systems had been shut down.

And as he pulled off his headset, he saw to his surprise that the bridge was deserted. “Hello?” he called tentatively.

No answer. “Hello?” he repeated, staring out the viewport as he fumbled for his straps. The ship was floating dead in space, squarely in the middle of nowhere, with no nearby stars or planets that he could see. What in the Depths had happened? “Is anyone there?”

“Greetings, Qilori of Uandualon,” a cultured voice came from the bridge speaker. “Forgive the interruption in our journey, but I wished to speak to you in private.”

“Of course,” Qilori managed, his winglets fluttering harder than they had since Thrawn’s grand confrontation with the Benevolent two months ago. “Yes. I—may I ask your name?”

“You may not,” the voice said calmly. “Tell me about Yiv the Benevolent.”

Qilori felt his winglets twitch. He’d thought—he’d hoped—all of that was finally past him. Clearly, it wasn’t. “I…don’t know what you mean.”

“He disappeared,” the voice said. “One rumor says he was killed in action. Another says he defected to the Chiss or someone else. Another says he deserted his forces and went to live in quiet luxury in the far reaches of the Chaos. What do you say?”

Qilori pressed his winglets against his cheeks, trying to get them to stop moving. Thrawn had warned that any word from him on the subject of Yiv’s fate would end with Qilori being thrown out of the Pathfinders and the Pathfinders being thrown out of the Navigators’ Guild. “I…don’t…”

“Do you see where you are?” the voice interrupted. “We’re between star systems, light-years from anywhere. If you were to step outside now, your body would float forever in the void, with no one ever knowing what became of you. Would you prefer that to answering my question?”

“No,” Qilori whispered. “Yiv was…captured. He was taken by the Chiss. By Senior Captain Thrawn.”

“And the Nikardun Destiny?”

Qilori waved a hand helplessly. “Yiv was the Nikardun Destiny,” he said. “He was the undisputed leader. When he vanished…there was no one else who could take his place. No one who could continue the relationships he’d built with alien governments. The uncertainty over what had happened to him—that all by itself froze everyone’s plans and thoughts. And when the Vaks started describing to everyone in the region how his ships had fired on them…” He shook his head. “It all just fell apart. Some of his chiefs are still talking about restarting their road of conquest, but no one believes it anymore. Even if they try, they’ll just end up fighting among themselves.”

“And Yiv’s map to that road of conquest?”

Qilori sighed. “The Chiss got Yiv. They probably got the map and all the rest, too.”

For a moment the voice was silent. “You had a bright future ahead of you. Do you wish that to resume?”

“I already told you the Nikardun are gone.”

There was a small snort. “The Nikardun were fools. Heavy-handed, destructive fools. Useful in their way, but we always knew they would break like an ocean wave if they ever encountered too firm a sea stack.”

“You were the Benevolent’s master then?” Qilori asked.

An instant later he regretted his impulsiveness. It was clear he was here to answer questions, not ask them. The deep, cold emptiness of space…

“Do you assume, then, that there can be only one military mind that sees the Chiss as the prime obstacle to dominion over the Chaos?” the voice came. To Qilori’s relief, there seemed to be more grim amusement than anger in the tone. “No, Qilori of Uandualon. Had we been guiding Yiv’s efforts, instead of merely watching them, he would have been far more successful.”

“Of course,” Qilori said, ducking his head. “I apologize for any offense.”

“None is taken. At any rate, the frontal attack has failed, as many of us predicted it would. Clearly, something more subtle will be necessary.”

Qilori pricked up his ears. “You’re going against the Chiss?”

“Do you disapprove?”

“Not at all,” Qilori assured him. “They’ve taken my life from me. If your offer of a bright future includes revenge on the Chiss, you can count me in.”

“Excellent.”

Abruptly, the displays and controls came back to life. Qilori took a deep breath, watching as the self-checks cleared, watching as the location display calibrated itself. His earlier assessment had been correct: They were very much in the middle of nowhere.

“You may continue our journey,” the voice continued. “We will talk again later.”

“Yes,” Qilori said. “May I…if I can’t have your name, can you at least tell me what to call you?”

“Jixtus,” the voice said. “You may call me Jixtus. Make good note of that name, Qilori of Uandualon.

“It’s the name of he who will finally and completely destroy the Chiss Ascendancy.”