His protective attitude probably wasn’t hurt by the fact that his Droc family were strong rivals to Ilparg’s own Boadil family.
Not that Ilparg probably noticed the comment. He was standing beside Ar’alani’s command chair, his eyes on the distant planet, his mind clearly elsewhere than the Vigilant’s bridge.
Ar’alani looked back at the planet and the ships clustered around it, the brief moment of amusement disappearing. Most of the vessels out there were undoubtedly Lioaoin: freighters, patrol ships, two low-orbit bluedock repair stations, possibly a warship or two. The old records suggested there was at least one blackdock in much higher orbit, raising the possibility of another warship in the area, though if it was undergoing repairs it could probably be ignored.
The question was whether there were any Nikardun ships in the mix, there to keep an eye on the locals.
“Sweep complete,” Senior Commander Obbic’lia’nuf called from the sensor station. “No matches to the Nikardun ship we saw at Urch.”
Which didn’t prove anything, Ar’alani knew. Aside from the oversized viewports and the particular placement of the main weapons clusters, none of the Nikardun ships she and Thrawn had run into looked exactly like any of the others. Certainly Yiv didn’t seem to go with any kind of standard silhouette.
“Traffic Control is hailing us, Admiral,” Wutroow said.
“Never mind them,” Ilparg said before Ar’alani could reply. “Get me someone in the Regime Diplomatic Office. If they had anything to do with that Urch business, I want to have it out here and now.”
“A moment, Ambassador,” Ar’alani said, looking over her shoulder at the bridge hatch. Thrawn was apparently running late. “We’re waiting for Senior Captain Thrawn to arrive.”
“What do we need him for?”
Because he’s the one who can tell us if there are Nikardun ships out there—the obvious reply ran through Ar’alani’s mind. Because he has a feel for tactics that will be crucial if this thing blows up. Because he’s got a track record in combat situations that most Chiss commodores and admirals would give their blood firstborn for.
But she had more tact than Commander Octrimo. She also had none of his family rivalries to deal with. “Because I want him here, and I’m the admiral,” she said instead.
Ilparg made a little huffing noise. “Fine,” he said. “But he’d better not be long.”
The hatch slid open and Thrawn stepped onto the bridge. “My apologies, Admiral,” he said as he crossed to Ar’alani and Ilparg. “Apologies, Ambassador. My studies took longer than expected.”
“What studies were those, Senior Captain?” Ilparg asked suspiciously.
“Tactical data,” Ar’alani put in.
“Tactical data?” Ilparg repeated scornfully. “Is that what the Expansionary Fleet calls art these days?”
Ar’alani clenched her teeth. “The first rule of strategy is to know your enemy, Ambassador,” she said. “That includes their battle tactics; but also their history, their philosophy, and, yes, sometimes even their art.”
“I accept the first two,” Ilparg said, the disdain still in his voice. “The third is of little to no value. However, now that Senior Captain Thrawn has graced us with his presence, perhaps you’d be good enough to contact the diplomatic office as I requested?”
“Certainly, Ambassador,” Wutroow said, stepping to Ilparg’s side and deftly easing him away from Ar’alani and Thrawn. “We can hail them better from the comm station. This way, please.”
“Thank you for trying,” Thrawn said softly as he came up beside Ar’alani.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ar’alani advised. “Sometimes it’s good to have your talents underestimated.” Though not when your career is being evaluated, she added silently to herself. “What did you find?”
“Our Lioaoi art files are extremely limited,” Thrawn said. “But they should be adequate to our needs.”
“Glad to hear it.” Ar’alani waved toward the viewport. “There’s your canvas. Paint me something.”
For a moment, Thrawn stood silently, his eyes tracking across the scene in front of them. Ar’alani shifted her attention between him and the tactical display, wondering when the Lioaoi were going to make their move. If the Nikardun were here, this group must have heard about the Urch incident by now.
Could the Urchiv-ki have somehow failed to identify the Vigilant before it escaped from their encirclement? Impossible. Could they perhaps not have at least one communications triad on the entire Urchiv-ki capital planet capable of transmitting a message this far? Even more unlikely.
So what were the Nikardun waiting for?
Unless the whole thing was just a product of paranoia and imagination. The alien nations out here were always fighting among themselves—Ar’alani knew that all too well. If the Nikardun were just some small-time species the Chiss hadn’t run across, and their battles were purely local ones—
“Those nine fighters,” Thrawn said, pointing to a group of small ships just coming around the planetary disk. “The craft themselves are a variant of Lioaoin design, but their formation and flight pattern aren’t typical.”
“Maybe they’ve updated their tactics since the last time you saw them,” Ar’alani suggested.
“No,” Thrawn said slowly. “Lioaoi like vertical formations. Their artwork clearly shows that. They would normally put nine ships like that in a three-stack wedge. This formation is planar and far more spread out.”
Ar’alani nodded. That was definitely not a stacked-wedge formation. “Looks like it’s designed for a pincer maneuver, too.”
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “Attack, not defense. Again, contrary to the usual Lioaoin predisposition. But it’s not just the formation. The pilots seem…hesitant, somehow. As if this formation is new to them.”
“Maybe they’re fresh recruits.”
“All nine of them?” Thrawn shook his head. “No. Those are one-person gunboats. The Lioaoi would never put that many untried pilots alone without a more experienced ship and crew nearby in case of trouble. Certainly not that deep in the gravity well.”
“I agree that’s how they did things before,” Ar’alani said. “But fleets change doctrine all the time. Maybe not this drastically, but they do adjust and adapt to new tech or situations.”
“This is Lioaoin Orbital Command,” a voice came over the speaker.
Ar’alani blinked. She’d been so focused on the distant ships and Thrawn’s analysis that she’d almost forgotten their ostensible purpose for being here.
“This is Ambassador Boadil’par’gasoi of the Chiss Ascendancy,” Ilparg replied with all the dignity and arrogance Ar’alani had come to expect from the diplomatic corps in general and Ilparg in particular. “I wish to speak to someone in the diplomatic office concerning the aggressive treatment we received a few days ago at the Urchiv-ki capital of Urch.”
“What makes you think the Lioaoin Regime has anything to do with the Urchiv-ki?” the voice came back.
“There was a Lioaoin ship present when the Urchiv-ki attempted to capture our ship,” Ilparg said.
Ar’alani hissed out a breath. What the hell did Ilparg think he was doing? Handing over information like that, especially without getting anything in return, was the height of foolishness. “Ambassador—”