“I’m aware of the danger,” Thrawn said. “I would never want the weight of such memories and regrets. But I’m more prepared to see their deaths through my action than I am to put the entire Ascendancy at the same risk through my inaction.”
Ba’kif nodded. He’d thought Thrawn’s answer would be something like that. And unfortunately, he had to agree with him. “The ship will be ready by the time you’ve collected your fellow travelers and your supplies,” he said. “Your orders will be cut but sealed. No one will know about your mission but me.”
“Thank you, sir,” Thrawn said, standing up. “Thank you, too, for not adding the extra burden of a reminder that your career is also on the line.”
“You worry about your sky-walker and the Ascendancy,” Ba’kif growled. “I’ll worry about my career. Now get out of here. And may warrior’s fortune smile on your efforts.”
* * *
—
“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Che’ri murmured, looking up from her questis and the picture she’d been drawing. She craned her neck toward General Ba’kif’s closed office door, halfway down the busy corridor, as if moving her head a couple of centimeters closer would magically give her the ability to see or hear through it.
“I don’t know,” Thalias said, resisting the impulse to remind the girl that she’d made that same half-question comment twice already, and that the answer wasn’t going to change until Thrawn came through the doorway.
But the topic of the unheard conversation wasn’t hard to guess. Thrawn’s vague question about whether she and Che’ri would be willing to go with him on a special mission would have been intriguing enough even if it hadn’t immediately been followed by this meeting with Ba’kif. But it had been followed by the meeting, and the only reasonable conclusion was that the two of them were discussing the details of that mission.
“They’re coming,” Che’ri said suddenly.
Thalias looked at the still-unopened door, feeling a touch of bittersweet memory. Back when she was Che’ri’s age, she’d been able to do that same trick, using Third Sight to know a couple of seconds in advance when something was about to happen. Most people—at least those who knew what sky-walkers were—took the whole thing in stride. But there’d been a few others who’d never gotten used to it. Freaking them out was half the fun of doing the trick.
The door opened, and Thrawn emerged. Ba’kif followed, but stopped in the doorway, and for a moment the two men held a final bit of inaudible conversation. Thrawn nodded at last and started down the corridor toward Thalias and Che’ri—
“Good afternoon, Caregiver Thalias.”
Thalias turned. Syndic Thurfian was standing there, smiling the smile she’d seen on him way too many times. The look was never a genuinely friendly one, and it was nearly always the prelude to bad news. “Good afternoon, Syndic,” she replied. “What can I do for you?”
“I wonder if you’d be good enough to come to my office for a few minutes,” Thurfian said. “There’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you.”
Thalias felt her stomach tightening. No—not now. Of all the times he could have chosen. “I’m sorry, but my commander is on his way,” she said, keeping her tone neutral as she nodded back toward Thrawn. “I’m certain he has some official duty for us.”
“I’m quite certain he hasn’t,” Thurfian said, still smiling. “Apparently you’ve forgotten that your ship has gone into bluedock for some fairly extensive repairs. Unless General Ba’kif has dug up a spare ship, Senior Captain Thrawn can’t possibly need you.”
“You might be surprised at Captain Thrawn’s ingenuity,” Thalias said, feeling sweat gathering under her collar. It was now, all right. The worst possible time, and so of course he’d chosen it. “At any rate, I’m under his command, not yours.”
“Well, let’s ask him, then, shall we?” Thurfian shifted his gaze over Thalias’s shoulder. “Senior Captain Thrawn,” he said, his voice holding the same false cheer as his smile. “I need to borrow your caregiver for an hour or so. Surely you have no objection?”
“None at all,” Thrawn said, his eyes flicking briefly to Thalias. “I presume you won’t also need Che’ri?”
A hint of a frown touched Thurfian’s face. “No, I just need Thalias. Why would I need Che’ri?”
“I don’t know,” Thrawn said. “That’s why I asked. I’m glad you don’t need her, as she’s fallen slightly behind in her studies. I expect the Springhawk’s repair schedule will give her time to catch up.”
Thurfian’s frown disappeared. “Ah. Of course.”
“I should be there to help her,” Thalias said doggedly, trying to think. If she couldn’t find a way out of this—
“This won’t take long,” Thurfian promised. “Until later, Captain Thrawn.”
“Until later,” Thrawn answered.
The Syndicure complex was about a hundred kilometers from fleet headquarters, a short twenty-minute trip by tunnel car. Neither Thalias nor Thurfian spoke during the journey, mindful of the half dozen other officers and Aristocra in the car who might overhear any conversation.
They were nearly to the end of their journey when Thalias finally came up with a plan.
Not a good plan. Probably even a desperate one. But it was all she had.
It took two minutes in the privacy of the restroom for her to set things in motion. Two minutes of time, and way more courage than she thought she possessed. But then it was done, and she was committed, and she could only hope she hadn’t brought complete ruin upon herself.
They arrived and, still in silence, Thurfian walked her down the corridors of Ascendancy power to his office.
“All right, I’m here,” she said as Thurfian ushered her into his office and motioned her to a chair. “What’s this all about?”
“Oh, please,” Thurfian protested mildly. Closing the door, he circled behind her and sat down at his desk. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what this is about. You promised me a report. It’s time to deliver.”
He activated a questis and pushed it across the desk to her. “Tell me everything you know, everything you’ve learned—everything—about Senior Captain Thrawn.”
* * *
—
For a long minute the young woman just sat there, her face rigid, her body unnaturally still. Seeking, no doubt, a way out of the trap.