“I’m not picking up anything that looks like a Garwian,” Biclian reported. “Maybe it’s on the other side of the planet.”
“Admiral, Primea Central Command acknowledges,” Wutroow relayed. “They claim the Garwian diplomatic ship left three days ago with all personnel aboard.”
“There you go,” Zistalmu said briskly. “Looks like Thrawn managed to extricate himself without any fuss or drama. Now, if we can say our farewells and head back to the Ascendancy—”
“Captain, please ask for clarification,” Ar’alani ordered. “I want a list of all the personnel on that ship. I also want copies of all transmissions to and from the Garwian before it left.”
“What makes you think they’ll have all that available?” Zistalmu demanded. “Or will give it to you if they do?”
“Captain?” Ar’alani prompted.
“Message delivered,” Wutroow confirmed. “Waiting for a reply.”
“We’ve got movement,” Biclian cut in. “Five small ships breaking orbit toward us, and another eight patrol ships rising from the surface. Make that nine from the surface.”
“Patrol ships?” Zistalmu asked, clearly confused. “What are they doing?”
“You should read the Defense Force’s after-action reports more closely, Syndic,” Ar’alani said, eyeing the small ships assembling between the Vigilant and the planet below. “Small fighters are a line in the dirt, a warning that the defenders are serious.”
“Yes, I understand that part,” Zistalmu growled. “I’m wondering why they think fourteen fighters constitutes any kind of threat. Do they expect them to scare us away?”
“Of course not,” Ar’alani said. “But a couple of wings of fighters isn’t as provocative as a group of full-class warships would be. That makes it easier for both sides to back down if neither really wants a fight. And if the intruder does want one, it’s not so much of a loss to the defenders if the fighters get blown out of the sky.”
“But we’re not going to do that, are we?” Zistalmu asked, his voice dark and ominous.
“Not unless we’re attacked first,” Ar’alani said. “Captain? Any word on my request?”
“Central Command says they don’t have that information,” Wutroow reported. “They say they have to refer me to the diplomatic service.”
“I trust they’re doing so?”
“So they say.” Wutroow pointed at the tactical. “Looks like they’re working into a lens formation.”
Ar’alani nodded. Or at least, thirteen of the patrol ships were. The fourteenth was moving forward, ignoring his companions’ more cautious stance. “Octrimo, that fighter on the extreme starboard seems to be spoiling for a fight,” she said. “Start drifting us toward him. Nice and easy—don’t make it obvious.”
“You think that’s him?” Wutroow asked.
“We’ll know in a minute,” Ar’alani said, checking the distance. The patrol ship was almost in range now. Another few seconds…
Abruptly, a double flare of laserfire blasted from the fighter squarely at the Vigilant.
“Hit on starboard ventral weapons cluster,” Biclian reported tersely. “Low-power blast, no damage.”
“Acknowledged,” Ar’alani said.
Zistalmu inhaled sharply. “What are they doing? I thought you said they weren’t trying to be provocative.”
“Targeting sensors have kicked into rapid record mode,” Wutroow called.
“Modulated laserfire coming in—” Biclian began.
“Thank you, Senior Commander,” Ar’alani cut him off. She’d known what Thrawn was planning as soon as he opened fire on the sensor cluster and had hoped she could slide it past Zistalmu without him noticing.
No such luck. “Modulated how?” the syndic asked. “Admiral? The laser is modulated how?”
“I’m not sure yet, Syndic,” Ar’alani hedged. “We’ll have to see what the computer makes of it.”
“Let me guess,” Zistalmu said, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “That’s Thrawn, isn’t it? And he’s somehow adapted the fighter’s laser to transmit a message. Is that it?”
Ar’alani mouthed a silent curse. So much for keeping the syndic in the dark long enough to bring Thrawn aboard.
So much, too, for keeping Thrawn’s favored method for surreptitious communication secret. Up to now, only she and Thrawn had known how he’d managed his communication with the Garwians during the Lioaoin pirate attack on Stivic all those years ago. He’d obviously planned in advance to pull the same trick here, knowing that Ar’alani would recognize it and be able to extract the message.
What he couldn’t have anticipated was Zistalmu inviting himself onto the mission.
The question of Thrawn’s possible interference in that particular incident had long since been forgotten. But all it would take was Zistalmu putting the pieces together to drag it back into the light. And with Zistalmu and Thurfian both out for Thrawn’s blood, that could be a serious problem.
Right now, Ar’alani had more pressing matters to deal with. Two of the Vak patrol ships had broken out of their lens formation and were pursuing Thrawn’s ship. So far they hadn’t fired, but someone had clearly figured out that the rogue fighter had been commandeered and was hoping to stop it. Meanwhile, off to portside, two much larger Vak warships had come into view around the planetary rim, moving steadily toward the Vigilant.
And then, around the planetary rim to starboard, a much larger ship had appeared.
A Nikardun warship.
“Vak warships moving toward portside flank,” Wutroow called. “Close-combat distance in two point three minutes. Patrol ships moving up in defensive lens; combat distance ninety seconds.”
“Picture coming through,” Biclian reported. “On Sensor Two.”
Ar’alani looked at the specified display. The data Thrawn was sending seemed to be a schematic of one of the Vak patrol ships.
She smiled tightly. A schematic, moreover, with all the weapons and targeting sensor systems marked. Everything she would need to take all the fight out of them without loss of life or serious damage to the ships themselves.
“Prepare lasers,” she ordered. “Target patrol ships’ weapons sensors. Target very carefully—I don’t want any additional damage.”
“Just a moment,” Zistalmu cut in. “Are you mad? You can’t launch an unprovoked attack.”
“It’s not unprovoked,” Wutroow said. “One of them fired on us, remember?”
“That was Thrawn.”
“So you’ve suggested,” Ar’alani said evenly. “Until that’s been confirmed, we operate on the assumption that the Vaks have attacked us. Captain Wutroow, pick three of the patrol ships and fire—”
“Belay that order,” Zistalmu snapped. “I forbid any action. You will prepare to withdraw—”
“Incoming!” Biclian snapped. “Four heavy cruisers, coming in from hyperspace behind us.”
“Acknowledged,” Ar’alani said, feeling a sudden sense of unreality as she gazed at the display. They were heavy cruisers, all right, arrayed in a diamond combat formation.
Only they weren’t Vak ships, or even Nikardun.
They were Lioaoin.
“Yaw turn—one eighty,” she ordered. “Stand by lasers and spheres on new targets.”
“Lioaoin flagship is signaling, Admiral,” the comm officer called. She touched a switch—
“—to intruder,” a Lioaoin voice came over the speaker, its Minnisiat clear and precise. “You are threatening the peace and safety of the Vak Combine. Leave immediately, or be fired upon.”
“Admiral—” Zistalmu began.
“Quiet.” Ar’alani cut him off as she tapped her comm switch. “This is Admiral Ar’alani aboard the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet ship Vigilant,” she said. “We mean no harm to Primea or the Combine. One of our people has gone missing, and we’re here to inquire about his whereabouts.”