It was, she realized too late, the exact wrong thing to say. Suddenly, without warning, Che’ri’s eyes welled up with tears, and she buried her face in her hands. “She’s going to die,” she gasped between sobs that shook her whole body. “She’s going to die.”
“No, no,” Ar’alani protested, hurrying forward and dropping to one knee beside the frightened girl. “No, she’s going to be fine. Thrawn’s there, too, and he won’t let anything bad happen to her.”
“It’s my fault,” Che’ri moaned. “It’s my fault. I yelled at her. I yelled at her, and now she’s going to die!”
“Easy, easy,” Ar’alani soothed. “It’s okay. When did you yell at her?”
But even as she asked the question, the obvious answer popped into her mind. The long farewell and explanations that had taken place in the privacy of the sky-walker suite. Thalias’s manner and posture as she and Thrawn had headed to the shuttle, a manner which Ar’alani noted at the time seemed unusually subdued even given the gravity of the upcoming mission. Che’ri’s refusal to come out of her sleeping room when Ar’alani first came to the suite to check on her after the shuttle left.
Ar’alani had put it down to nerves on both sky-walker’s and caregiver’s parts. Apparently, however, their farewells had been a lot more fiery than she’d realized.
And now the girl had worked through her anger and tumbled off the other direction into fear and depression and guilt. “It’s okay,” Ar’alani said again. “People yell at each other all the time. It doesn’t mean they don’t care for each other.”
“But I told her I hated her,” Che’ri sobbed.
“She’s not going to die,” Ar’alani said firmly, gingerly resting her hand on Che’ri’s shoulder. “Saying something doesn’t make it happen.”
“I didn’t mean to yell.” Che’ri sniffed, the crying fading a little as she lowered her hands. “I just wanted some graph markers. So I could draw. But she said she didn’t have any, and couldn’t get any before she left, and I said Ab’begh has them and that she was a terrible momish—” She covered her face again, and the sobbing resumed.
Ar’alani patted her shoulder gently, feeling like a fresh recruit on her first training mission. She would take a battle against multiple enemies any day over trying to soothe a terrified child. “Listen to me,” she said, wincing at the command tone of her voice. “Listen to me,” she tried again, this time trying for gentleness. “This isn’t like books or vids. This is real life. Just because someone goes off on a mission right after they’ve had a fight doesn’t mean they’re going to die.”
Che’ri didn’t answer. But Ar’alani thought she was crying a little less hard.
“Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll draw you a hot bath—Thalias said you like those—and while you’re soaking I’ll make whatever you want to eat. How does that sound?”
“Okay,” Che’ri said.
“Okay,” Ar’alani repeated. “I’ll go start the bath while you figure out what you want.”
Che’ri nodded. “Admiral Ar’alani…Thalias said you’ve done a lot of things with Captain Thrawn.”
“I’ve had my fair share of experience with him,” Ar’alani said, smiling wryly. “And Thalias’s right. Being with Thrawn is one of the safest places she can be.”
“Can you tell me about some of the stories?” Che’ri asked hesitantly. “She gave me some, but they’re all official and stiff and I…don’t read very well. Thalias likes to read but I can’t…” Without warning, the body-racking sobs were back.
Ar’alani closed her eyes and let out a silent sigh. This was going to be a long, long night.
The Garwians had been reasonably quick to allow the shuttle to land. They were equally quick to order it to leave, citing security concerns about an obvious Chiss craft sitting on the ground and promising that the petitioners would be seen quickly.
But as Thalias and Thrawn continued to wait in the security office anteroom, she began to wonder if they had changed their minds. Certainly no one in the Unity seemed eager or even willing to talk to them.
Thrawn had said that the Garwians owed him a favor. But from the way the people bustling around the office seemed to be avoiding eye contact, Thalias was having serious doubts about the depth of any such gratitude.
She was also having second thoughts about the thick, plaster-like makeup Thrawn had decided should be a proper part of her appearance. She understood the logic of making a family hostage’s status instantly apparent to passersby, but with much her face seemingly covered by textured ridges and plateaus she could hardly form any expressions at all.
Which, again, might be part of the whole point of such makeup. Hostages as nonentities, or some such. Still, as she sat there in silence and expressionlessness, feeling the extra weight of the plaster pressing down on her neck and shoulders, she couldn’t help wondering what the long-term effects of the stuff might be on her skin.
Finally, four hours after their arrival, one of the Garwians finally stopped in front of them. “Second Defense Overlord Frangelic will see you now,” he said in Minnisiat. “Follow me, please.”
The Garwian seated behind the desk as they were ushered in was younger than Thalias had expected for what sounded like such a prestigious post. He sat motionless and silent as they walked up to the two guest chairs facing the desk and sat down. Looking over Thalias’s shoulder, the alien nodded to their guide, and she heard the door shut behind them.
“I see you’ve risen in your profession, Second Defense Overlord,” Thrawn said calmly. “Congratulations.”
“As you have likewise, Senior Captain Thrawn,” Frangelic said, inclining his head. “And your companion?”
“My hostage,” Thrawn corrected.
Frangelic seemed to draw back in his chair. “Since when do the Chiss keep hostages?”
“Since long before we took to the stars,” Thrawn said. “It’s sometimes invoked as a security matter between families. We rarely speak of it openly to strangers, but since she is here you must be brought into my confidence. I trust you’ll keep it a private matter?”
“Of course. Has she a name?”
Thrawn looked at Thalias, as if he was trying to remember it. “Thalias.”
“Thalias,” Frangelic greeted her gravely. He studied her a moment, his eyes seeming to trace some of the spirals and ridges of the makeup curling around her face, then returned his attention to Thrawn. “Let me be clear from the outset. The Ruleri have met in special session over the past hour, and they have informed me that their feelings are mixed concerning your return to Solitair. They feel your last interaction with the Garwian people…the word betrayal wasn’t actually spoken, but the thoughts and attitudes tended in that direction.”
“I remember things differently,” Thrawn said. “But that is the past. Right now, both the Ascendancy and the Unity face an uncertain and dangerous future. I bring a proposal that aims to address both problems.”
“Interesting.” Frangelic eyed him. “Continue.”
“I believe we both face a new enemy called the Nikardun,” Thrawn said. Keying his questis, he handed it across the desk. “We know of three, possibly four, nations in the region that have either been quietly conquered or are currently under siege.”
“We know these nations,” Frangelic said, studying the questis. “As well as two others that seem to have drastically changed both their governments and their attitudes toward outsiders.”
“So you agree there is a threat?”
“We agree something has changed,” Frangelic said. “The Ruleri are divided on whether or not the changes constitute a threat.”