He activated a questis and pushed it across the desk to her. “Tell me everything you know, everything you’ve learned—everything—about Senior Captain Thrawn.”
For a long minute the young woman just sat there, her face rigid, her body unnaturally still. Seeking, no doubt, a way out of the trap.
The trap she’d stepped into of her own free will, of course. It was either that promise, or Thurfian would have turned around, walked back into the personnel office, and canceled her appointment as the Springhawk’s sky-walker’s caregiver. With a threat like that hanging over her, she’d had no choice but to agree.
But it hadn’t been willingly. Not by a long shot. Even now, as he looked at her expression and body stance, it was clear she was hoping to get out of the deal.
Too bad. Her hopes didn’t matter, nor did her reticence. All that mattered was that Thrawn was up to something new, and Thurfian was getting tired of his antics. He needed a lever he could use against the maverick, and Thalias’s detailed knowledge of Thrawn’s other recent activities was that lever. “Come, come—we haven’t got all day,” he said into the taut silence. “The sooner you finish, the sooner you can go back to fawning over your big hero.”
“I assumed this would wait until the entire campaign was over,” Thalias said, making no move toward the questis.
“I never gave you any sort of timetable,” Thurfian reminded her. “The deal was very clear: I would get you aboard the Springhawk, and you would be my spy.”
Thalias flinched visibly at the word. Thurfian didn’t care about that, either. “Everything you need to know about Senior Captain Thrawn is in the official records,” she said. “Once you’ve read them, I can answer any other questions you have.”
“I have read them,” Thurfian countered. “And you’re stalling.”
“Not stalling,” Thalias said, standing up. “It just so happens I have an appointment elsewhere. If you’ll excuse me—”
“Sit down,” Thurfian said, putting all the coldness of Csilla’s surface into his voice. “You don’t wish to talk about Thrawn? Very well. Let’s talk about your family.”
“Don’t you mean our family?”
“I mean your original family,” Thurfian said. “The family who bore you, and who held your allegiance before you were taken away from them to become a sky-walker.”
Thalias paused, standing halfway between her chair and the door, a whole play of emotions skittering across her face. She had no memory of those years, Thurfian knew, which made this the ideal additional lever to use against her. “What about them?” she asked at last.
Thurfian hid a smile. She was trying to sound calm and uninterested, but the tight muscles in her throat and cheeks gave away her sudden interest and uncertainty. “I thought you might like to hear about their current situation,” he said. “And how you could perhaps help them.” He paused, waiting for her to respond.
But she remained silent. A cool character, for sure, who wouldn’t be easily swayed. But Thurfian had had plenty of experience manipulating such people.
“They’re not in great shape, you see,” he went on. “The family has always been poor, but the recent shift in the prices of certain minerals has pressed particularly hard on them. The Mitth family has many resources, some of which could be turned in their direction.”
“I don’t even remember them.”
“Of course not,” Thurfian said. “You were far too young when you were taken. But does that really matter? They’re your people. Your blood.”
“The Mitth are my people now.”
“Perhaps.” Thurfian gave a little shrug. “Perhaps not.”
Thalias’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a full member of the Mitth.”
“Hardly,” Thurfian said. “You’re a merit adoptive, and a relatively new one at that. You have a long path ahead of you before your position is anything other than precarious.”
Thalias looked down at the questis. “Are you suggesting that my position with the Mitth depends on my betrayal of Thrawn?”
“Betrayal? Of course not,” Thurfian said, putting some righteous indignation into his voice. “Thrawn is a member of our family”—at least for the moment, he reminded himself silently—“and talking about him hardly qualifies as betrayal. On the contrary, not reporting any questionable activities is where betrayal would lie.”
“Then let’s make this simple,” Thalias said. “I’ve never seen him do anything questionable, illegal, or unethical. I’ve certainly never seen him do anything against the Mitth. Good enough?”
Thurfian gave a theatrical sigh. “You disappoint me, Thalias. I’d hoped you had a future with the Mitth. But if we can’t even trust you to help us keep watch on a potential danger to the family, I can’t see how we can keep you with us. But that’s your decision. I can keep watch on Thrawn myself.”
He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Starting with whatever he’s up to right now. I noticed he was talking with General Ba’kif again, so that’s probably the best place to start. Perhaps I’ll take an hour or two to look into that before I begin your rematching procedure.”
Thalias tried to hide her reaction. But it was no use. His offhanded threat to rematch her back to her old family had done the trick. He would give her the next hour to consider what life without the Mitth would be like, and then he would start the procedure.
Abruptly, she pulled out her own questis and peered at it. “All right,” she said. “You win.”
Again, Thurfian hid his smile of triumph. Really, sometimes it was just too easy. “Excellent,” he said, gesturing her back to the chair. “Though as I think further, I wonder if it would be better to head back first for our talk with General Ba’kif. You can begin your report along the way.”
“You’re right, we’re leaving,” Thalias agreed. “But not to fleet HQ.” She held up her questis. “You’re to take me instead to the Mitth homestead.”
Thurfian’s sense of triumph vanished. “What?” he asked carefully.
“You said it yourself,” she said. “I don’t have a stable position with the family. So I’ve made arrangements to remedy that.”
“How?” he asked, his blood suddenly running cold. If she denounced his interest in Thrawn to the wrong people…
No, that couldn’t be it. She couldn’t possibly know enough about the labyrinthian web woven around the upper ranks of the family. “If you think there’s anyone higher than me you can appeal to—”
“I’m not going to appeal,” she said. “I’m going to take the Trials.”
He stared at her. “The Trials?”
“Merit adoptives can ask at any time to take the Trials,” Thalias said. “If they succeed, they become Trial-born.”
“Kindly do not lecture me on my own family’s policies,” Thurfian said stiffly. “And that’s only if they succeed. If they don’t, they lose even merit adoptive status.”
“I’m aware of that,” Thalias said. There was a slight tremor in her voice, but her jaw was firmly set. “But you were going to throw me out of the family anyway.” She lifted the questis again. “I’ve petitioned the Office of the Patriarch, and the petition’s been accepted.”
“Fine,” Thurfian said between clenched teeth. Curse this woman, anyway. “I’ll give you the instructions on how to get to the homestead—”
“The Patriarch’s Office has requested that you accompany me.”
Thurfian hissed out a curse. The final spiral to his plans. She’d outmaneuvered him completely.
She…or Thrawn.