“Good points,” Thalias said, an unpleasant feeling stirring in her stomach. Even if the task force was heading off for some punitive action, traveling jump-by-jump would get them any reasonable distance without having to risk taking a sky-walker into combat. So why were she and Che’ri aboard? “Well, whatever we’re doing, Senior Captain Thrawn will get us through.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve read a lot about him.” Thalias pulled out her questis. “Do you read? Would you like to read about his career?”
“That’s okay,” Che’ri said, wrinkling her nose a little. “I’d rather draw.”
“Drawing’s good, too,” Thalias said, sending Thrawn’s files to Che’ri’s questis. “This is just here if you want to read some later.”
“Okay,” Che’ri said uncertainly as she peered at her questis. “There’s an awful lot there.”
“So there is,” Thalias conceded, feeling a pang of embarrassment. She’d loved reading when she was a sky-walker. Naturally, she’d assumed Che’ri would be the same. “Tell you what. I’ll go through it later and make up a shorter version for you. Some of the more exciting stories of things he’s done.”
“Okay,” Che’ri said, sounding marginally less unenthusiastic.
“Good.” For a moment, Thalias tried to think of something else to say. But she could see the wall still standing between them, and she remembered how moody she’d sometimes been when she was Che’ri’s age. Best not to push it. “I have to check in with the first officer,” she said, standing up. “I’ll let you get back to your drawing.”
“Okay,” Che’ri said. “Am I supposed to get my own lunch?”
“No, no, I’ll make it for you,” Thalias assured her. “Are you hungry?”
Che’ri shrugged. “I can wait.”
Which wasn’t exactly an answer. “Do you want me to make you something now?”
“I can wait,” Che’ri repeated.
Thalias clenched her teeth. “Okay, then. I’ll go check in, and then come back. While I’m gone, you think of what you’d like to eat.”
Another shrug. “I don’t care.”
“Well, think about it anyway,” Thalias said. “I’ll be back soon.”
She headed out, glowering to herself as she strode down the corridor. Maybe taking this job had been a mistake.
Still, she and Che’ri had barely met. It wasn’t surprising the girl was holding back, especially given that she was still hurting from what she saw as desertion by her previous caregivers.
So Thalias would give the girl time, and space, and probably more time. Eventually, hopefully, she would come around.
And if she still didn’t know what she wanted for lunch by the time Thalias returned, it would be nut-paste sandwiches. Even if Che’ri didn’t read, surely she at least liked nut-paste sandwiches.
* * *
—
Thrawn was taller than Samakro had expected, and carried himself with grace and a certain air of confidence. He was also courteous to the officers and warriors, and knew his way around the Springhawk. Aside from that, he really wasn’t that big a deal.
Right now, he was also late.
“Approaching target system,” Kharill reported. “Breakout in thirty seconds.”
“Acknowledged,” Samakro said, looking around the bridge. All weapons systems showed green, including the balky plasma sphere targeting computer that had been giving them trouble for the past few days. All air lock doors were sealed against possible breach, the electrostatic barrier that hugged the Springhawk’s hull was at power, and all warriors were at their stations.
Impressive, but hardly really necessary. As far as Samakro could tell, this whole mission was only a small step above a wargame exercise. The Vigilant was a full-class Nightdragon man-of-war, and Admiral Ar’alani’s current force also included five other cruisers besides the Springhawk. With that much firepower, appearing without warning over the Paataatus homeworld, they weren’t likely to face any effective resistance.
None of which meant that Springhawk and its crew should be anything less than fully professional here, of course. And that professionalism included its captain. If Thrawn wasn’t here by the time they left hyperspace, Samakro would just have to take over—
“Stand ready,” Thrawn’s calm voice came from behind him.
Samakro turned, fighting back a reflexive twitch. How in hell had Thrawn sneaked onto the bridge without him hearing the hatch open? “Captain,” he greeted his superior. “I was starting to think you’d missed the alert.”
“I’ve been here for the past hour,” Thrawn said, sounding mildly surprised that Samakro hadn’t noticed. “I was overseeing the work on the sphere targeting computer.”
Samakro looked over at the plasma sphere console as two techs emerged into sight from behind it. “Ah. I see it shows green now.”
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “The quality of the Springhawk’s repair and maintenance crews has improved considerably since you were placed in command.”
Samakro felt his eyes narrow. A compliment? Or a subtle reminder that Thrawn was the ship’s captain now?
“Any last-minute instructions from the Vigilant?” Thrawn continued.
“Nothing since the last jump,” Samakro said. Probably a compliment, he decided. Thrawn didn’t strike him as the gloating sort. “Just Ar’alani’s usual warning to be ready for anything.”
“I believe we are,” Thrawn said. “Breakout…now.”
Through the viewport, Samakro saw the star-flares flash and shrink, bringing the Springhawk out of hyperspace.
Into a storm of laserfire.
“Enemy fighters!” Kharill snapped. “Bearing…all around us, Captain. Swarming us. Swarming everyone.”
Samakro hissed out a minor curse. Kharill was right. There were at least fifty Paataatus fighter craft out there, buzzing around the Chiss attack force like angry weltflies, their lasers creating flashes of pale green as they cut through the rarefied interplanetary dust.
And as with weltflies, even though each individual sting was too weak to damage the Springhawk’s electrostatic barrier, a sufficiently massive barrage of such fire could conceivably take down the defenses and start eating into the hull.
“Acknowledged,” Thrawn said calmly. “Sphere One: Fire at nearest attacker on my vector.”