“Same protective function, but much stronger and more versatile,” Thrawn said. “The Ascendancy would benefit greatly from that technology.”
Che’ri looked sideways at him. He wasn’t thinking of trying to go down there, was he? Not with all those robot things buzzing around.
He seemed to sense her look and her sudden fears. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to charge in on our own,” he assured her. “Though with a full complement of decoys aboard, getting through their sentry screen would be trivial. Still, an aerial force implies a similar ground force, and you and I are hardly equipped to deal with that degree of opposition.”
“Okay,” Che’ri said cautiously. He still had that intense look in his eyes. “So…what are we doing?”
“Our mission has always been to find allies,” Thrawn said, reaching forward and manipulating one of the sensor controls. “But perhaps we don’t need an entire army of them.”
“How many people do we need?”
He pointed at one of the other displays. “Let’s start with one.”
Che’ri blinked in surprise. Centered in the display was another ship, about the same size as theirs. It was floating all dark and silent and low-power, and was clearly watching the same buzzing robot ships she and Thrawn were. “Who’s that?”
“No idea,” Thrawn said. “But the appearance and energy profile don’t match any of the other ships we’ve seen since leaving the Chaos.”
“Doesn’t look like the robot ships, either,” Che’ri offered.
“Excellent observation,” Thrawn said, and Che’ri felt her face warm with satisfaction at the compliment. “It’s possible the pilot is scouting for the opposite side of the war. If so, we may have found an ally—there!”
Che’ri stiffened. The other ship’s energy profile had suddenly changed. Even as she opened her mouth to ask what was going on, the ship rotated a few degrees, and with a flicker it disappeared into hyperspace.
“Quickly, now,” Thrawn said, and Che’ri’s board went dark as he took control. “Get ready for Third Sight.”
“We’re going after it?”
“Actually, I’m hoping to get ahead of it,” Thrawn said, running power to the thrusters and hyperdrive. “The first world we visited was the most populous and therefore the most likely place from which to send a message or to rendezvous with allies.”
“Wouldn’t one of the more empty worlds be better for that?”
“In theory, yes,” Thrawn said. “But a scout would want to avoid drawing any more attention than necessary. The fewer the inhabitants, the more scrutiny is automatically attached to strangers.”
“Okay,” Che’ri said, making a face as she activated the navigator board. By the time they were ready, the other ship would have a good ten-minute lead on them. How did Thrawn think she could get ahead of it?
“It’ll be all right if we arrive second,” Thrawn said. “But even with their lead, I have no doubt we’ll arrive first. A ship that size is unlikely to have a hyperdrive and navigational system equal to a Chiss ship and a Chiss sky-walker.”
Che’ri hunched her shoulders once as she got a grip on the controls. Darn right. They were Chiss, and they were not going to lose a race. Not to anyone. “I’m ready,” she said. “Tell me when.”
* * *
—
Che’ri’s first thought when she came out of her Third Sight trance was that she’d lost. The other ship was nowhere to be seen: not approaching the planet, not in orbit around it. She sighed, pressing her hand to her throbbing head. She’d tried so hard, but—
“There,” Thrawn said.
Che’ri felt her eyes widen, her headache instantly forgotten. He was right. The ship they’d seen watching the robot craft had just emerged from hyperspace. “What do we do now?”
“Let’s see if they’re interested in talking.” He keyed the comm. “Unidentified ship, this is Senior Captain Mitth’raw’nuruodo of the Chiss Ascendancy,” he said in Minnisiat. “Can you understand me?”
Silence. Thrawn repeated the greeting in Taarja, then in Meese Caulf, then Sy Bisti. Che’ri was trying to remember if there were any more trade languages she’d ever heard of when there was an answering ping from the comm. “Hello, Senior Captain Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” a woman’s voice came in Meese Caulf. “What can I do for you?”
“It is considered courteous for one party of a conversation to offer his or her name to the other,” Thrawn said.
“You think we’re going to have a conversation?”
“We seem to be doing so,” Thrawn pointed out.
There was a short pause. The other ship, Che’ri noted, was heading toward the planet, without any hint that the pilot might be interested in a closer look at the Chiss visitor. “Call me Duja,” the woman said. “My turn. Does the Chiss Ascendancy favor the Republic or the Separatists?”
“Neither,” Thrawn said. “We take no side in this war of yours.”
“Then I see no reason to talk to you. No offense,” Duja said. “You haven’t seen a Nubian ship land lately, have you?”
“What does it look like?”
“Shiny silvery metal,” Duja said. “Smooth curves, no angles, twin engine pods.”
“We have not seen it.”
“Conversation over, then,” Duja said. “Nice talking to you.” There was another ping as she shut off the connection.
Che’ri looked at Thrawn, expecting him to call Duja back and try to persuade her, maybe offer to work together. But to her surprise, he merely closed down the comm. “You’re just letting her go?” she asked.
“She’s not a warrior,” Thrawn said, his voice thoughtful. “A scout, perhaps a spy, clearly someone with training. But not a warrior.”
“How do you know she’s had training?”
“Her ship is armed,” he said, “and as we spoke she rotated slightly so the weapons could be more quickly brought to bear if necessary.”
“Oh,” Che’ri said. She hadn’t seen any of that. “What do we do?”
“We wait,” he said. “As I said, she’s a scout or a spy. Sooner or later, a warrior will come.”
* * *
—