“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—”