Thrawn peered at the questis. “The Vigilant wasn’t really designed for this kind of maneuver,” he warned as he handed the device to Wutroow. “But I think it can handle the strain.”
“What strain?” Ilparg croaked, a layer of suspicion coating the fear in his voice. “What are you proposing?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Wutroow advised, tapping the questis. Out of the corner of her eye, Thalias saw the image and data appear on one of the helm displays. “Mid Commander Octrimo?”
“I see it, ma’am,” the pilot said hesitantly. “Are you sure about this?”
“They want to take the Vigilant intact,” Ar’alani reminded him. “One way or the other, this guarantees that doesn’t happen. Execute.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Visibly bracing himself, Octrimo keyed his board.
And with a sudden muted roar as the thrusters ran to full power, the Vigilant leapt forward.
Aiming straight for the planet in front of them.
Ilparg gave a strange sort of squeal. “Admiral!” he bleated. “What are you doing?”
“Course change one,” Ar’alani said over the rumble. “Three, two, one.”
Outside the viewport Urch moved off to the left as the Vigilant shifted its vector. At least, Thalias thought dimly through the agonized pounding of blood in her head, they were now headed for the edge of the planet instead of straight toward its center. This way, the resounding crash would take a little longer to happen.
“Urchiv ships moving in pursuit,” Wutroow called from the sensor station. “Lioaoin hanging back. Nikardun…ramping up power; looks like he’s going to try to cut us off.”
“Increase speed five percent,” Ar’alani ordered. “Course change two: Three, two, one.”
The planet moved a little more to the side, and now it looked like they were only going to cut through the edge of the atmosphere. Thalias tried to remember if she’d ever heard of a Chiss Nightdragon running at high speed through a planet’s atmosphere, but she couldn’t.
“Urchiv ships picking up speed,” Wutroow announced. “But unless they’ve got a lot more in reserve, there’s no way they can catch us. Ah—they’ve figured that out. Dropping back.”
“Any sign of intercept craft from the surface or behind the disk?” Ar’alani asked.
“Nothing detectable,” Wutroow said. “At this point—”
She broke off as the Vigilant gave a sudden lurch. “Entering atmosphere, Admiral,” Octrimo said. “Cutting deeper; hull temperature starting to rise. No danger yet.”
But there would be, Thalias knew. Her physics classes were only a vague memory, but she remembered enough to know there were good reasons why ships didn’t move through planetary atmospheres at this speed.
“What about the Nikardun?” Ar’alani asked.
“A little unclear—the turbulence is interfering with the sensors,” Wutroow said. “But I think he’s falling behind, too.”
The buffeting was growing stronger. Thalias knew she should find a seat and strap in, but she could sense Che’ri’s fear and didn’t want to abandon the girl. She could almost hear the Vigilant groaning under the unfamiliar stresses and heat and pressure.
Imagination, of course. But still she could hear the ship’s agony…
“Last course change,” Ar’alani said abruptly into the muted cacophony. “Sky-walker, get ready.”
“I am,” Che’ri said, her voice trembling.
“Course change: Three, two, one.”
Octrimo keyed his board, and the Vigilant angled away from the planet one final time. The battering began to lessen.
And suddenly the haziness around the stars cleared, and the groaning faded away. They were again in the welcome vacuum of space, driving hard along the vector Che’ri had pointed them to. The seconds ticked by, the Vigilant driving ever harder toward the distant stars.
“Clear for hyperspace,” Octrimo announced.
“Sky-walker?” Ar’alani called.
“Ready,” Che’ri called back. “How far do you want to go?”
“As far as you can take us without stressing yourself,” Ar’alani said. “Ready…go.”
The stars flared and then faded into the hyperspace swirl, and they were once again safe.
“You can let go now,” Thrawn said.
Thalias blinked, only then realizing that somewhere along the line her grip on Che’ri’s shoulders had transferred into a grip on the back of the girl’s chair. With an effort, she unlocked her fingers and took a step back. “We did it,” she said.
“We did,” Thrawn agreed. “We of the fleet like to think of ourselves as heroes. Often, though, the true heroes are those who design and build the warships we take into battle.”
“There wasn’t supposed to be any battle,” Ilparg growled. With the danger passed, he was rapidly returning to his normal pomposity. “What was the meaning of all that?”
“The Nikardun are attacking other worlds—” Thrawn began.
“The meaning?” Ar’alani interrupted him. “The meaning, Ambassador, is that this was a trap. Someone wanted to capture a Chiss ship, and they invited you to Urch to make it happen.” She smiled, just slightly. “You were the bait.”
“I am not bait,” Ilparg insisted. “Not for anyone. Not for the Urchiv-ki, not for these—what did you call them?”
“Nikardun,” Thrawn supplied.
“And not for the Nikardun,” Ilparg bit out.
“And the Lioaoi?” Ar’alani asked.
Ilparg frowned at her. “What do the Lioaoi have to do with it?”
“One of their ships was here,” Ar’alani said. “And they certainly didn’t do or say anything to keep the Urchiv-ki back from us.”
“In fact, it looked to me like they were part of the net the Urchiv-ki were setting up behind us,” Wutroow added.
“Oh, they were, were they?” Ilparg said, glaring at the rolling hyperspace swirl outside the viewport.
“It certainly looked that way to me,” Wutroow said.
“Perhaps we should swing by the Lioaoin heartworld before we return to the Ascendancy,” Ar’alani suggested. “Talk to them, maybe ask for an explanation.”
Ilparg turned cold eyes to her. “You think we should do that, do you?”
Ar’alani lifted a hand. “I merely offer the suggestion.”
“And an excellent suggestion it is,” Ilparg said. “Except that I don’t intend to ask for an explanation. I intend to demand one.”
He pointed dramatically toward the hyperspace swirl. “The Lioaoin heartworld, Admiral Ar’alani. At your best possible speed.” He held the pose another moment, then gave an equally dramatic turn and stalked off the bridge.
“Interesting,” Thrawn murmured. “I assume that was on purpose?”
“You wanted to see the heartworld,” Ar’alani said. “Now we’re going to.”
“Make a note, Senior Captain,” Wutroow added. “You can ask and suggest and show why your ideas make sense. But when politicians are involved”—she waved toward the viewport in an imitation of Ilparg’s earlier posture—“that is how it’s done.”
CHAPTER NINE
Once again, the star-flares faded and the Vigilant was back in space-normal.
“Lioaoin heartworld bearing twenty degrees port, twelve nadir,” Octrimo announced from the helm. “Arrived precisely on target, as Chiss sky-walkers always do.”
“Acknowledged,” Ar’alani said, suppressing a smile at that last, definitely non-standard comment. The entire bridge crew had quietly seethed at Ilparg’s disparaging comments about Che’ri’s navigation back at Urch—fleet officers and warriors held their sky-walkers dear—but most of them had kept their feelings to themselves. Octrimo, who as helm officer had naturally worked the closest with the girl, had apparently decided to risk a reprimand in order to throw a small dig at the ambassador.