But so far that hadn’t happened. Whoever Thrawn had assigned to handle the gunboats, they were doing their jobs well.
The enemy was down to eight when, like a brick slapping her in the face, she saw the terrible flaw in the entire scheme.
For a long minute she just sat there, gripping the armrests of her command chair as the battle raged around her ships, her brain racing to sort through the problem and find a solution. If she did…no. If someone on the Springhawk did…no. If Thrawn had already spotted the flaw and worked it into his plans…
She dug her fingers a little harder into her armrests. No. There was no way Thrawn could have caught this one. Not with his blindness to family politics. He would continue on, bring the scenario to a triumphant end…and then watch helplessly as that triumph collapsed. Deception…civil war…
She had to warn him. But that wouldn’t be easy. Even if she could risk her own officers listening in, standard battle protocol required her bridge comm to remain open to all the other ships of her task force. She would have to make an excuse to leave the bridge and go to the duty office.
Another laser shot slammed into the Midsummer’s hull. “Damage to Number Eight Targeting Sensor,” First reported.
“Acknowledged,” Lakinda said, standing up and crossing over to him. “Assessment?”
“They’re enthusiastic enough,” he said, sending another pair of laser blasts chasing after one of the gunboats. “Lucky for us, they’re not very good at picking their targets.”
“Indeed,” Lakinda said, noting in passing the irony there. In truth, the gunboats were hitting exactly what they were aiming for. “I need you to take command for a few minutes,” she added, lowering her voice. “I’m going to try to get a message to the Springhawk.”
First craned his neck to look up at her, his eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Sensors indicate they’ve gone partially dormant,” she said. “That tells me they were already tangling with these gunboats before we arrived. They may have picked up useful information on them.”
The eyes narrowed a little more. “I don’t think a private conversation is a good idea,” he warned. “We’re in a precarious enough relationship with the Erighal and Pommrio. We don’t want to look like we’re going behind their backs.” He gave a derisive snort. “Besides, considering the shape the Springhawk’s in, what kind of useful information could Thrawn possibly have?”
“I wasn’t asking for your advice or opinions, First,” Lakinda said. “I’m giving you notice and an order. Maintain pressure on the gunboats, and keep an eye on the Apogee. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She retraced her steps across the bridge, continuing past her command chair to the far side and slipping through the duty office hatchway. She sealed the hatch and sat down at the desk, keying on the equipment and punching in her private code. Most ship transmissions went through the bridge comm station, but there was an independent system available for the commander’s private use.
On Expansionary Defense Fleet ships, that system was inaccessible to the comm officer. There was no way to know if Xodlak family warships followed the same etiquette.
The Springhawk was a fair distance away, and it took her nearly a minute to get a tight beam set up and aimed. Finally, she was ready. “Springhawk, this is Senior Captain Lakinda,” she said. “We have a problem.”
She paused a second until it occurred to her that Thrawn couldn’t reply, even with a tight beam, without the risk that one or more of the other family ships would be able to pick it up. “Once this is over, the Erighal and Pommrio are going to insist on going down to examine the mines,” she continued. “When they see the entire setup is a fraud, it’ll spark a huge degree of embarrassment. You can’t hide something like that forever, and once it’s out in the open there will be a public uproar, with anger, recriminations, massive efforts to find someone to blame—”
She broke off. By this point, even Thrawn should have gotten the message. “The end result won’t be much better than if they’d come to physical blows,” she said. “I don’t know how you’re going to prevent that, but you have to find a way.”
She swallowed hard. Expendable…“I think someone’s going to have to crash the Watith freighter into the fake mine. I know it’s hard, but if that’s the price we have to pay, then we have to pay it.”
She paused, wondering if there was anything else she should say. But she’d said enough. “I have to get back to the battle now. Good luck.”
She closed down the tight beam and the comm, locking the log so that the next duty officer couldn’t just sit down and pull up the transmission record. She stood up, returned to the hatch, and tapped the release.
To find the second officer standing outside waiting for her, his face rigid. Standing a pace behind him were two warriors with charrics belted at their sides.
“Senior Captain Xodlak’in’daro,” Second said, his tone painfully formal, “I am hereby informing you that, for crimes and offenses against the Xodlak family, the senior officers of the Xodlak frigate Midsummer have removed you from command.”
“What are you talking about?” Lakinda demanded, her pulse suddenly pounding. “What crimes?”
“Betrayal of Xodlak family interests,” Second said. “Disregard for Xodlak family orders and instructions. Communicating and consorting with the enemy.”
“The Mitth are not our enemy,” she insisted, feeling a sudden catch in her lungs. Communicating with the enemy. Had they tapped somehow into her message? Had someone figured out that the Springhawk was controlling the gunboats, and that speaking with them really was talking to the Midsummer’s attackers?
“They’re not our allies, either,” Second countered.
“Did you learn anything about the gunboats?” the first officer called from the weapons console.
Called at full volume, Lakinda noted, without any attempt to keep the question confidential. Apparently, it wasn’t just the senior officers, but the entire bridge crew who were in on this. “Senior Captain Thrawn was unable to respond,” she said.
“Of course,” First said scornfully. “But I assume you were able to talk to him?”
A laser blast flashed past the viewport, briefly illuminating the bridge. “In case you hadn’t noticed, First, we’re in the middle of a battle,” Lakinda said. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Agreed,” Second said. “You are therefore to be confined to quarters until a proper investigation can be completed.”
Lakinda straightened up. They had no legitimate right to do this, she knew. Hearsay, innuendo, assumption, deduction—none of those were sufficient grounds to relieve an officer of her post. Every one of her officers, from First on down, must certainly know that.
But as she herself had said, they didn’t have time for this.
“This isn’t the end of this matter,” she warned, stepping out of the office.
“Indeed it isn’t,” Second agreed. He moved out of her path and gestured to the two warriors. “Warriors?”
The first warrior turned and headed for the hatch. The second waited until Lakinda had followed, then fell in behind her.
And with that, the entire plan was suddenly balanced on a wobbling edge. Thrawn had counted on her being in command of the Xodlak ships through the whole battle, ready to make any last-minute moves or adjustments that might be needed. Now that advantage was gone.
Only Thrawn didn’t know it. And he never would. Not until it was too late.
For a long moment no one in the freighter command room spoke. Not because everyone was too busy—only seven of the gunboats were still in action—but because everyone understood the repercussions of Senior Captain Lakinda’s suggestion.
Disconnecting the Watith freighter would be easy enough, Samakro knew. It would also be possible to set it on a course that would crash it into the bogus mining area. Thrawn had already planned to cut the freighter loose and destroy it once all the gunboats had been eliminated anyway.
But that destruction was supposed to happen quick and close, before any of the distant family ships could tell that the freighter wasn’t operational. Sending it instead to a crash-landing on the planet would give the observers way too much time to analyze its course and realize it wasn’t under power or command. Especially since at that point they would no longer be distracted by the confusion of a battle.
The obvious plan would be to evacuate the controllers back to the Springhawk right now and send the freighter on its way while the battle was still in progress. Only that wouldn’t work. As soon as the controllers left their posts the remaining gunboats would go inactive, drifting along the way they’d done back at the ambush system when Thrawn had disabled the freighter. At that point, no one could fail to realize something peculiar was going on, and all it would take would be a quick tractoring and examination of one of the gunboats to rip the scheme wide open.
They couldn’t send the freighter now. They couldn’t send it after the battle.
Or rather, as Lakinda had already hinted, they couldn’t send it alone.
Laknym was the first to speak. “Sir?” he said, his eyes still on his displays as he continued his attack on the Xodlak warships. “Senior Captain Lakinda was right. You’re going to need someone to pilot the freighter to the surface. I volunteer for the job.”
“I appreciate that, Lieutenant Commander,” Samakro said, looking around at the control consoles and the other men and women. If they could disassemble one of the gunboat consoles and take it aboard the Springhawk…but they’d already looked at that possibility during the voyage here and concluded the equipment was too complicated and too integrated into the freighter’s own systems. If they could rig up a remote control for the freighter itself…but there was nothing in the Springhawk’s stores they could use for something like that, and they didn’t have time to create one on the fly.
“Sir?” Laknym prompted.
“I heard you,” Samakro growled. “If and when the job comes open, I’ll let you know.”
Could they turn one of the gunboats around now and send it at the planet? A gunboat would survive the trip through the atmosphere as well as the freighter would and destroy the mining area as well.
But after so many of the other fighters had been destroyed in battle, would that look to the family commanders like uncharacteristic and suspicious cowardice? How much suspicion would it take to bring this whole thing down and precipitate the vicious infighting Lakinda had warned them about?
“Mid Captain Samakro?” Thrawn’s voice came from the speaker.
“Yes, sir,” Samakro said with a heavy sigh. “Sir, I think Senior Captain Lakinda is right. The only way to make this work is for someone to stay behind and control the freighter on its last flight. Lieutenant Commander Laknym has volunteered.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,” Thrawn said. “You’re right, Mid Captain, that the freighter needs to be seen as being under command.”
Samakro looked down at Laknym. The other’s throat was tight as he continued to operate his gunboat, but there was no regret in his eyes or his face. “Understood, sir.”
“I don’t think you do, Mid Captain,” Thrawn said calmly. “I said it needed to be seen as being under command. I never said it needed to be piloted.”
Samakro frowned. “Sir?”
“Continue your attack,” Thrawn said. “But make sure you hold one gunboat in reserve for my use.”
“Yes, sir.” Still frowning, Samakro touched Laknym’s shoulder. “That was for you, Lieutenant Commander. Senior Captain Thrawn wants you to keep your gunboat alive.”
He didn’t know what Thrawn was planning. He could only hope that Laknym, too, could be kept alive.
Thalias and Che’ri were playing a game in the sky-walker suite when they got the urgent summons.
Thrawn was standing behind the comm station as the warriors escorted the woman and girl onto the bridge. “Apologies for my silence,” he was saying. “But we were temporarily disabled and briefly boarded, and have only now regained full control of the ship. I understand Senior Captain Lakinda attempted a transmission, but we were unable to properly receive it. Can she take a moment to repeat her message?”
“Captain Lakinda is no longer in command of Task Force Xodlak,” an unfamiliar male voice ground out.
“Has she been injured?”
“She is no longer in command,” the other repeated, “and I have no time to discuss it further. As you can see, we’re engaged in combat.”
“Yes, with the same group of warships that attacked us,” Thrawn said. “May warrior’s fortune smile on your efforts.”
He gestured to the comm officer, who touched a key. “Transmission ended, sir,” he confirmed.
Thrawn nodded and turned back. He spotted Thalias and Che’ri and motioned them toward his command chair.
“Thank you for coming,” he said as the three of them gathered around the chair. “One moment.” He touched the chair’s mike key. “Mid Captain Samakro, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” Samakro’s voice came from the chair’s speaker. “The thrusters are primed and the acceleration vector and profile have been triple-checked. Most of my people are already back in the Springhawk, and the rest can be out of here in thirty seconds.”
“Good. Stand by.” Thrawn looked over his shoulder at the comm officer. “Brisch, signal to the Grayshrike. Message: Now.”
“Yes, sir,” Brisch said. “Message sent.”
Thrawn turned back to Thalias and Che’ri. “We have a problem that I’m hoping you can help us fix.”
“We’ll do whatever we can, sir,” Thalias said, taking a step toward the navigator’s station. “Come on, Che’ri.”
“Not there,” Thrawn said, putting out a hand to stop them. “I need you at the weapons station.”
“The weapons station?” Thalias asked, looking down at Che’ri. “Sir, we don’t know anything about weapons or defenses.”
“Actually, Che’ri does have some experience with decoys and decoy deployment,” Thrawn said. “But don’t worry, this isn’t anything like that.”
“Sir, the Grayshrike is here,” Dalvu announced.
“Thank you,” Thrawn said, turning to the tactical display. “Samakro, stand by.”
Thalias followed his gaze. Whatever was going on out there, it was an absolute mess. The tactical showed about a dozen ships clustered together in the far distance, all of them maneuvering and firing at one another. Eight of them, mostly grouped in the center of the display, were marked with Chiss logos, while those marked as enemies swarmed around them. At the far edge of the display, a fair distance away from the battle and even farther from the Springhawk, a flashing image indicated the newly arrived Grayshrike. Even as Thalias watched, the newcomer swiveled toward the mass of other ships and opened fire on the attackers.
Thalias looked down at Che’ri. The girl was also staring at the tactical. But where Thalias felt mostly confusion, Che’ri’s expression was one of concentration and curiosity.
“Gunboats: Disengage and run,” Thrawn ordered.
On the display, the five enemy ships abruptly broke off their attack on the Chiss warships and swung around toward the planet, accelerating hard and regrouping into a cluster of their own as they ran. The Chiss behind them continued firing, their lasers joined by fire from the Grayshrike angling in from the far side.
Actually, Thalias saw now, given the way the various ships were positioned, the enemy ships would move a little closer to the Grayshrike before they passed that point and began opening up the distance again. That point of closest approach would be the cruiser’s best chance to take them out.
Unfortunately for the Grayshrike, it had been in the middle of a yaw turn toward the main battle and was out of position to give chase. All it could do was continue the barrage from its portside lasers, an attack that was now joined by a stream of plasma spheres.
But the enemy ships were still too far away and were cutting rapidly across the field of fire. Combined with their evasive maneuvering, that was keeping them mostly clear of the bombardment. Thalias winced as she watched them successfully pass the Grayshrike and continue on, wondering if all five were going to make it to safety.
But there was just too much laserfire coming in for them to dodge it forever. Seconds later, in rapid succession, three of the five were hit with killing shots from the Grayshrike and disintegrated in massive explosions. The two survivors kept going, finally passing out of range and leaving the attackers behind. The Grayshrike made one last try with another wave of plasma spheres, but the ships were going too fast and the spheres fell behind.
“Final two gunboats are clear,” Samakro announced.
“Clear the freighter, and activate thrusters,” Thrawn ordered.
“Freighter cleared, Senior Captain,” Samakro’s voice came from the command chair speaker. “Activating thrusters: now.”
Thalias twitched as the deck abruptly began shaking beneath her. “Thalias?” Che’ri gasped, her hand grabbing Thalias’s for balance.
“It’s all right,” Thrawn calmed her. “The vibration’s coming from the Watith freighter. It’s still tethered to the Springhawk, but its thrusters are now running at full power and it’s trying to get away.” The shaking continued, perhaps growing a little stronger—
“Aboard,” Samakro called, sounding a little breathless. “Hatch sealed.”
“Release freighter,” Thrawn ordered.
With a final jolt, the deck vibration vanished. Thalias peered out the viewport and saw the freighter racing away, its vector cutting across the Springhawk’s orbit as it headed toward the edge of the planet.
“Afpriuh, stand by lasers,” Thrawn ordered. He had his questis out and was tapping on it. “These spots: here, here, and here. Weave them into a general pattern of near-misses.”
“Yes, sir,” the weapons officer said, keying his board. A flurry of laser shots lanced out from the Springhawk, blazing around and past the fleeing freighter. Midway through the barrage the freighter seemed to realize it was under attack, twitching first to portside, then to starboard, then to starboard again as it tried to evade the cruiser’s fire.
“Excellent,” Thrawn said, nodding. “Continue firing, again making it look like your targeting systems are still not fully functional.”
“Yes, sir.”
The laserfire resumed. This time, as far as Thalias could tell, none of the shots had any effect.
Thrawn turned back to Thalias and Che’ri. “And now for you, Sky-walker,” he said. “Let me explain the situation.”
He waved out the viewport. “We have an abandoned freighter and two empty gunboats heading toward a collision over the planet, all of which has been carefully laid out to end with them crashing onto a specific spot on the surface. What we need to do—”
“Wait a minute,” Thalias interrupted. “You said the freighter was abandoned? I just saw it maneuver.”
“What you saw was a set of precise laser shots hitting the maneuvering jets and releasing bursts of compressed gas,” Thrawn told her. “In the short run, I expect that the Chiss warships observing the drama will see that and also assume the freighter is under power and control.”
His lips tightened. “Unfortunately, they’re almost certainly recording everything, which will allow them to carefully and leisurely examine all that has happened and all that is about to happen.”
He turned to the tactical. “It may be that those future analysts will also conclude, as you just did, that the freighter was under command at that point,” he said, his voice low and almost contemplative. “They may further conclude that the reason the two remaining gunboats are no longer running evasive maneuvers is that the Grayshrike’s failure to reach them with lasers and plasma spheres showed such maneuvering to be unnecessary. The problem is that we can’t rely on the analysts to reach those conclusions.”
He turned back. “What we need is to convince those future viewers that what happened here today—even just one aspect of it—is something the Springhawk couldn’t possibly have engineered.”
He held out a hand to Che’ri. “That’s where you come in, Sky-walker Che’ri. Come with me.”
He led her forward a couple of steps, stopping her beside the weapons officer. “This is Senior Commander Afpriuh,” he said, identifying the man.
“I know,” Che’ri said, nodding to him. “Hello, Senior Commander.”
“Hello, Sky-walker,” Afpriuh said, nodding to her.
“We’re going to try something I don’t believe has ever been tried before,” Thrawn said. “In approximately two minutes the freighter will reach a critical point in its journey. At that time it will also be nearly to the edge of tractor beam range, and our current orbit will also have moved us to a point where we’ll have a partial view of its portside flank.”
He pointed out the viewport. “What we’re going to do is attempt to use the tractor beam to turn it slightly to portside, in the direction away from the planet.”
Thalias looked at Afpriuh. The weapons officer was staring straight ahead, his profile giving no hint of his thoughts. “Is that even possible, Senior Commander?” she asked.
Afpriuh gave a small shrug. “Theoretically, yes,” he said. “It just requires a particularly narrow beam and a target point forward of the freighter’s center of mass.” He turned to look up at her. “But it also requires that we get it right on our first try.”
“Because…?”
“Because otherwise the visual record will show twitching in the freighter’s movement as we try to make the right connection,” Thrawn said. “Those movements will be read, correctly, as additional tractor connections.”
“Interference from the Springhawk,” Thalias said, nodding. “Which you already said we don’t want.”
“Exactly.” Thrawn looked down at Che’ri. “What we’re going to do is have Afpriuh attempt to lock on with the tractor beam, using a low enough setting that it won’t have any visible effect. You, Sky-walker Che’ri, will be watching the sensor display, using Third Sight to see a few seconds into the future. If and when—”
“Wait a minute,” Thalias cut in as she suddenly understood what he had in mind. “You’re not serious.”
“Your hand will be on top of Afpriuh’s,” Thrawn continued, ignoring the interruption. “If and when you see the freighter make the yaw turn we’re looking for, you’ll indicate that by tapping or pressing down on his hand. When that happens, he’ll run the tractor beam to full power before he activates it.”
“That can’t work,” Thalias insisted. “Che’ri can’t see something and then influence it to become something else.”
“Third Sight can show her what the senior commander is about to do,” Thrawn said. “In this case, that vision will be of the microscopic movement the freighter would experience if he’d left the beam on low power. As long as he’s in control and she’s not directly changing the event, it should work.”
“But—”
“Thalias,” Che’ri said quietly.
Thalias broke off, looking at her. “Che’ri, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she warned.
“But it’s sort of like what I do all the time,” Che’ri pointed out. “I see what the Springhawk might run into and change its direction so that it doesn’t.”
“It’s not the same,” Thalias insisted. “Remember, I used to do all that, too. When you’re a navigator, you see something that’s about to happen and make it not happen. What Senior Captain Thrawn is talking about is seeing something that isn’t going to happen and making it happen anyway.”
Che’ri shook her head. “I don’t see the difference.”
Thalias clenched her teeth. On one level, she wasn’t sure she saw a difference, either.
But her gut instincts were still screaming that it was radically different. Warning her that this was uncharted and potentially dangerous territory; further warning her that pushing Third Sight this way might affect Che’ri in ways they couldn’t predict.
“I don’t know if it’ll work,” Che’ri went on. “But shouldn’t we at least try?”
Thalias looked at Thrawn. “What happens if she doesn’t do this?”
“Perhaps nothing,” Thrawn said. “The analysts may not find anything suspicious, and then all will be well. If they do, there may be trouble among some of the families. Perhaps serious trouble. But those are only possibilities. If you’re uncomfortable with this, you don’t have to do it.”
Che’ri squared her shoulders. “No,” she said. Her voice was shaking a little, but there was no hesitation in it. “I didn’t think I could learn to fly a spaceship. You said I could, and I did. If you say I can do this, I can. Where do you want me?”
“Right here,” Thrawn said, moving her a few centimeters closer to Afpriuh. “This display—the one right here—is the one you’ll watch. I’ll keep it lined up on the freighter. Put your hand here—” he took her left hand and laid it, palm downward, on top of Afpriuh’s right hand “—and press or tap as soon as you see the freighter move. All right?”
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
Thrawn touched her shoulder, gave Thalias a brief look, then nodded. “Begin.”
For a long moment nothing happened. Thalias stared at the display, feeling her heart thudding, wondering if this was going to work. Beside Che’ri, Afpriuh’s hands moved delicately on his controls, his left hand making small adjustments, his right tapping every few seconds on a recessed button.
The Springhawk’s bridge had gone silent. Out of the corners of her eyes Thalias could see the rest of the officers sitting motionlessly, as if afraid of breaking a spell.
Were they worried about Che’ri? Or were they thinking about the consequences of failure? Thalias didn’t know exactly what was going on, but this level of quiet tension suggested the situation might be more serious than Thrawn had let on.
Trouble among some of the families, he’d said. What did that even mean? Complaints filed with the Syndicure? Trade disagreements?
Che’ri seemed to be swaying a bit, one of her signs of fatigue or stress. Stepping close behind her, Thalias rested her hands on the girl’s shoulders, steadying her and offering silent support.
Abruptly, Che’ri’s fingers spasmed on the back of Afpriuh’s hand.
Thalias snapped her attention back to the display, her hands squeezing Che’ri’s shoulders. For another second nothing happened.
And then, there it was: The movement Thrawn had hoped for. The distant freighter shifted position, its bow turning a few degrees to portside. Thalias took a deep breath, let it out in a relieved huff—
And jerked backward as the image exploded into fire.
She looked up and peered through the viewport. In the far distance she could see the small spark of flame that had been amplified by the telescopics of the display, a spark now visibly angling toward the planet looming off to starboard.
What the hell had just happened?
“Collision confirmed, sir,” Dalvu reported crisply from the sensor station. “Remaining gunboats have rammed the freighter. New combined vector…looks good, sir. Surface impact should be on target.”
“Acknowledged,” Thrawn said. “Caregiver?”
“Yes?” Thalias asked.
Thrawn nodded toward Che’ri. Frowning, Thalias focused on the girl.
The girl hadn’t moved. She was still standing, her shoulders suddenly tense beneath Thalias’s hands, her eyes fixed on the console.
Or maybe fixed on nothing at all. “Che’ri?” Thalias prompted.
No reply. No response. Carefully, Thalias gently turned the girl back around toward her. “Che’ri?”
For another moment Che’ri just stood there, her expression blank. Then she shook herself. Her eyes blinked twice and then came back to focus. “Did it work?” she asked.
“Yes, it did,” Thalias assured her. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” Che’ri said, frowning. “Yes, I’m all right. That was just…it felt kind of backward.”
Thrawn looked toward the rear of the bridge. “Warriors?” he called, beckoning to the pair who’d escorted Thalias and Che’ri in from their suite. “Take Sky-walker Che’ri to the medcenter for a full examination.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Che’ri protested. “I’m fine.”
“It’s just a precaution,” Thalias soothed. “Besides, you haven’t been checked out for a while. The medics have probably missed you.”
“No, they haven’t,” Che’ri grumbled. “What about our game?”
“The game will keep,” Thalias said. “Come on, now—no fussing allowed. This needs to be done.”
“Fine,” Che’ri muttered again. Still not happy, but she let Thalias lead her to the hatch without further argument.
“Thank you, Sky-walker,” Thrawn called after them. “And you, Caregiver. Thank you both.”
Thalias looked sideways at Che’ri. Yes, their game would wait until they were back in the suite. And then later this afternoon, maybe an hour or two after they returned, it would be over.
Thrawn was clearly playing some sort of game, too. The question on Thalias’s mind now was whether it, too, was over.
Somehow, she doubted it.