Chaos Rising Page 12

  Thalias made a face. Not just one floor schematic, but two of them?

  Okay. So maybe she hadn’t seen everything he had.

  They found the control center exactly where Thrawn had predicted it would be. The controls and consoles were labeled with an unfamiliar script, but everything seemed laid out in a logical pattern. A little trial and error with the controls, and suddenly the room blazed with light.

  “That’s better,” Thalias said, putting away her own light. “What now?”

  “This,” Thrawn said, throwing a few more switches. “If I’ve read the console organization correctly, we should now have turned on the station’s external lights.”

  Thalias stared at him. “You—? But that ship will see us.”

  “I told you I was going to invite them in,” Thrawn reminded her. “More important, our lights will hopefully distract them from the Springhawk, should its hiding place have been their original destination.”

  “I see,” Thalias said, freshly aware of the charric riding her hip. “You’re not expecting to fight them, are you?”

  “I’m hoping to avoid that, yes,” Thrawn said. “The equipment bay with the largest docking ports is at the portside edge of the station. We’ll wait for them there.” With a final look around the control center, he headed for a hatch leading in that direction.

  Taking a few deep, calming breaths, Thalias followed.

  * * *

  —

  The equipment bay was larger than Thalias had expected, though with the cranes, maneuvering lifters, overhead cables, and lines of tool and part racks there was also less open space than she’d anticipated. She and Thrawn had just settled themselves in front of the main port when there was a wheeze of vented air and the port began to cycle. “Here they come,” she muttered, peering past Thrawn’s shoulder as he stood in front of her, partially blocking her view. They hold their females in high esteem, Thrawn had said of the aliens they were tracking. If he was right, his protective position in front of her would hopefully connect to that cultural bias.

  “Yes.” Thrawn paused, his head cocked as if listening.

  Then, to Thalias’s surprise, he slipped around behind her, reversing their original positions so that she was now in front.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, a fresh sense of vulnerability flooding into her. The people about to come in, and whatever weapons they might be carrying—

  The hatch dilated, and four creatures emerged.

  Medium height, chest and hip bulges, pink skin, feathery head crests. Exactly like the bodies Thrawn had brought aboard the Springhawk from the second refugee ship.

  He had indeed found them.

  For a moment the two groups eyed each other. Then one of the newcomers spoke, his voice gravelly, his words incomprehensible.

  “Do you speak Minnisiat?” Thrawn called back in that trade language.

  The alien spoke again, still using his own speech. “Do you speak Taarja?” Thrawn asked, switching to that one.

  There was a short pause. Then one of the other aliens took a step forward. “I speak this,” he said. “What do you do here?”

  “We are explorers,” Thrawn said. “My name is Thrawn.” He nudged Thalias. “Tell them your name.”

  “I am Thalias,” Thalias said, taking the cue and giving only her core name. For whatever reason, Thrawn apparently didn’t want to give out their full names.

  The alien’s eyes widened and bulged a little as he seemed to study her. “You are female?”

  “I am,” Thalias said.

  The alien gave a whinnying sort of snort. “So do you, Thrawn, then hide behind your female?”

  “Not at all,” Thrawn said. “I’m shielding her with my body from those you sent to shoot us in the back.”

  Thalias caught her breath. “You’re joking, right?” she muttered.

  She sensed him shake his head. “I felt the shift in the air as they entered the secondary hatch behind us.”

  Thalias nodded to herself. Just as he’d quickly absorbed the feel of the Tomra all those years ago, he’d now just as quickly grasped the same details of this alien station.

  “We plan no violence,” the alien spokesman said hastily. “Merely caution. Your arrival was unexpected, and we were concerned for our safety.”

  “I apologize in turn for our startlement to you,” Thrawn said. “We thought this station was abandoned. That is why we came.”

  The alien gave another whinny, a shorter one this time. “If you sought to build a home here, you chose unwisely. Even now, it may be too late for you to reverse that error.”

  “We did not come to live,” Thrawn said. “As I said, we are explorers. We search the Chaos for artwork of the lost and forgotten.”

  The mottling pattern of the alien’s skin changed. “You search for artwork?”

  “Artwork reflects the soul of a species,” Thrawn said. “We seek to preserve that echo for those unable to preserve it on their own.”

  One of the other aliens spoke in their language. “He speaks that there is no artwork here,” the spokesman translated.

  “Perhaps there is more art woven into the design than he realizes,” Thrawn said. “But I am puzzled. I see no evidence of catastrophe or destruction. On the contrary, the station appears completely functional. Why did you abandon it?”

  “We did not abandon it,” the spokesman said, his voice noticeably deeper. “We were sent away by those who seek dominance over Rapacc and the Paccosh.”

  “Rapacc is your world, then?” Thrawn asked. “And you are the Paccosh?”

  “We are,” the spokesman said. “At least, for this current moment. The Paccosh may yet cease to exist. The future of each and every Pacc rests in the hands of the Nikardun, and we fear to contemplate it.”

  “The Nikardun are those who followed us across your system?” Thrawn asked.

  Another whinny. “If you believe they merely followed you, your ignorance is indeed deep. Their intent was to capture or destroy you.”

  Thalias felt a shiver run up her back. As far as she could remember, she’d never heard even a hint of information about a species with that name. Definitely outside the immediate neighborhood, and very likely outside even the wider region the Expansionary Fleet had explored.

  And if this was how they introduced themselves—blocking access to whole systems and chasing down and slaughtering anyone who succeeded in leaving—they weren’t likely to become friends of the Ascendancy anytime soon.

  “Yet they must hold you and your world in loose hands,” she pointed out, the angular Taarja words hurting her mouth. Taarja had been her least favorite trade language during her schooling, but the Mitth family insisted that their merit adoptives learn all the region’s most common forms of communication. “Otherwise, how are you here speaking with us?”

  “You think we traveled here of our own free will?” the spokesman asked, ducking his head just a bit toward her. “You think we ourselves removed the weapons and defenses from the ship we arrived in? Hardly. The Nikardun ships guarding the approaches to Rapacc did not recognize the design of your ship. They thought this station might still have sensors running that may have gleaned important details when your ship passed nearby. We were ordered here to learn if such records were indeed made.”

  “Were they correct?” Thrawn asked.

  “Correct about the sensors?” The spokesman paused, his eyes flicking between them. “Why do you ask? Do you wish the details of your ship to remain secret?”

  “It is said there are those who can deduce the origin of a ship from its design and style of flight,” Thrawn said. “The unknown leader of these Nikardun may be one such.”

  “Their leader is hardly unknown,” the Pacc said, a hint of disgust in his tone. “General Yiv the Benevolent has personally come to Rapacc to speak his demands
to and share his gloatings with our leaders.”

  “Such actions speak of supreme confidence,” Thrawn said. “Will he return soon?”

  “I do not know,” the Pacc said. “But more Nikardun will surely come, and if we are not compliant with the orders of those currently here it will go badly for us.”

  And if the Paccosh failed to capture the strangers who’d blown past the sentry ships and sneaked aboard their station, Thalias suspected, things would probably go even worse. “What are you going to do with us?” she asked.

  The spokesman turned back to the others, and for a moment they all consulted together. “Well done,” Thrawn said quietly.

  “What do you mean?” Thalias asked.

  “That question was better coming from you than from me,” he said. “Their consideration for females may modify their answer and influence their decision in our favor.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Then the charrics,” Thrawn said, his voice calm but determined. “You’ll deal with those in front of us. I’ll do likewise with the ones behind.”

  Thalias’s mouth went suddenly dry. “You mean just shoot them down?”

  “We are two,” Thrawn said. “They are four, plus however many are currently unseen and unnumbered behind us. If they decide to take us prisoner, our only chance will be immediate and lethal attack.”

  A cold chill ran up Thalias’s back. Getting pulled into a firefight, shooting and being shot at, had been a terrifying prospect. But at least she could have gone into a heated battle with a mostly clear conscience.

  What Thrawn was talking about was straight-up, coldhearted murder.

  The Paccosh ended their discussion. “We have no orders regarding intruders,” the spokesman said. “We were sent only to examine the sensors.” The other alien said a few words. “But we presume the Nikardun would have required your capture if they had known you were here.”

  “Perhaps,” Thrawn said. “The more important question is: What do the Paccosh require?”

  The spokesman turned to the others. Thalias lifted her hand to her hair, pretending to adjust a few strands, hopefully drawing a bit of extra attention to herself.

  “If you allow us to depart, I will make sure the Nikardun do not detect us,” Thrawn added into the silence.

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “They did not detect our arrival at this place,” Thrawn said. “I doubt they will be more attentive now.”

  “Surely they saw you turn on the station lights.”

  “Surely you can remotely activate those systems,” Thrawn countered.

  The spokesman considered, then inclined his head. “Yes. We can.” He hissed out a breath. “The commander has decided. You may leave in peace.”

  Thalias let her own breath out in a silent sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said.

  “You have not yet answered my earlier question,” Thrawn said. “Are the station’s sensors still operating?”

  The spokesman whinnied. “In weeks past, the Nikardun ordered us to shut down the station before abandoning it,” he said. “With the lives of each and every Pacc lying beneath their sword, we obeyed our orders to the letter. There are no functioning sensors.”

  “That is well,” Thrawn said. “Farewell, then, and may you yet find freedom and peace.” Touching Thalias’s arm, he nodded back toward the hatchway that would return them to their shuttle.

  “Wait.”

  Thalias turned back. The Pacc who’d done all the non-Taarja speaking earlier, the one she’d tentatively identified as the group’s leader, was walking toward them. She started to take a step backward, stopped as Thrawn again touched her arm.

  “This is Uingali,” the spokesman said as the Pacc stopped in front of Thrawn. “He has something he wishes to give you.”

  For a moment Uingali stood motionless. Then, with clear reluctance, he lifted both hands in front of him, one hand tugging at the fingers of the other. A moment later he’d slid a double ring off two of the fingers, the twin circlets connected by a short, flexible mesh. Another moment of hesitation, and he held the double ring toward Thrawn. “Uingali foar Marocsaa,” he said.

  “The double ring is a prized heirloom of the Marocsaa subclan,” the spokesman said quietly. “Uingali wishes you to take it and add it to your artwork, that the subclan and the Marocsaa people will not be forgotten.”

  For the first time since Thalias had met him, Thrawn seemed genuinely surprised. He looked at Uingali, then at the rings, then at Uingali again. Then, he held out his hand, palm upward. “Thank you,” he said. “I will guard it in a place of honor.”

  Uingali lowered his head in a bow as he placed the double ring in Thrawn’s hand. He straightened up, turned, and walked back toward the other Paccosh. They turned in unison as he passed them, and all four headed through the hatchway. There was a brush of air behind Thalias, and she jerked as three other Paccosh, apparently Uingali’s backup force, walked silently past the two Chiss and joined their comrades. They all disappeared from sight, the hatch closing behind them.

  Thalias peered at the double ring in Thrawn’s palm. It was made of a silvery metal, with a series of curved arcs embossed on the base. A cluster of what looked like small snakes rose from the center of the arcs, flanked by two much larger snakes that curved up and around, crossing each other once and ending with their heads and open mouths pointed defiantly upward.

  She was still studying the rings when the lights around them abruptly went out. “What—? Oh,” she added belatedly. “Remote controls.”

  “Uingali reinforcing the illusion for any Nikardun observers,” Thrawn said as he flicked on his own light. “Come.”

  He turned and strode toward the hatchway.

  “We’re heading back already?” Thalias asked as she hurried to keep up with him.

  “We have everything Supreme General Ba’kif sent us to find,” Thrawn said. “The murdered refugees were Paccosh from the Rapacc system, their oppressors are called the Nikardun, and the Nikardun leader is General Yiv the Benevolent.” He seemed to consider. “Plus perhaps a few additional facts that Ba’kif wasn’t expecting.”

  “Such as?”

  Thrawn was silent for another few steps. “We located the Paccosh partly because the refugees’ ship came from this general direction. We also presume that the Nikardun followed them or in some other way anticipated their arrival in the Ascendancy, then ordered the attack on Csilla in order to distract our attention from the Paccosh destruction.”

  Thalias nodded. “That makes sense.”

  “But that leads to another question,” Thrawn said. “How did the Nikardun know to stage their ambush at that particular spot?”

  “Well…” Thalias paused, trying to think it through. “We know the two Paccian ships rendezvoused in the four-star system before the one ship headed for the Ascendancy. Maybe the captain decided we were their best shot at getting help, especially with one of the two ships unable to keep going. Don’t know how they knew where we were, though.”

  “Many of the aliens out here know about us, or at least have a general idea where we are,” Thrawn said. “Though our reputation often precedes any actual knowledge. You’ll note the Paccosh didn’t seem to recognize that we were Chiss. But you miss the critical point of my question. The refugee ship left hyperspace much farther out in the system than was necessary. Far enough that they would have needed several hours of space-normal travel before they were even close enough to initiate communication.” He paused. “And far enough that while their slaughter was detected, there was no chance that any of the patrol ships could respond in time.”

  Thalias breathed a curse as it suddenly became clear. “The only way the Nikardun could be waiting for the ship is if the refugees’ navigator deliberately brought them out of hyperspace there.” She frowned. “They did have a naviga
tor, didn’t they?”

  “I assume so,” Thrawn said. “Presumably a Void Guide, like the second ship’s. Note also the fact that we found no such body aboard the first ship.”

  He paused again, clearly expecting Thalias to follow his path of logic. “The Nikardun took him with them?” she offered.

  “Indeed,” Thrawn said. “Was he dead, or alive?”

  Thalias chewed at her lip. How was she supposed to know that?

  For that matter, why was Thrawn even going through this logic puzzle with her, especially this way? It was like the schoolwork classes she’d had to take as an occasionally reluctant sky-walker, or the same classes she was now having to inflict on an even more reluctant Che’ri.

  “The Paccosh aboard the other ship died much later than those who were attacked in the Ascendancy,” he prompted.

  Thalias nodded as she finally saw where he was going. Especially since the second group had asphyxiated instead of being murdered like the first group. “He was dead,” she said. “If he’d been alive, he’d have told the Nikardun where the other ship was and they’d have moved in and slaughtered them, too, instead of letting them die on their own.”

  “Excellent,” Thrawn said. “We also glean the fact that it was the Paccosh, not the Void Guides, who chose the four-star system as their rendezvous.”

  “Okay,” Thalias said, frowning. “How does that help us?”

  “It may not,” Thrawn conceded. “But sometimes small bits of knowledge return in unexpected ways.” He gestured ahead. “At any rate, I believe we’ve learned all that we’re going to here. A stealthy return to the Springhawk is now in order, followed by a hopefully unimpeded exit from the system.”

  “The Nikardun will be watching,” Thalias warned.

  “Agreed,” Thrawn said. “But after the Vigilant’s incursion, I expect the Nikardun will have pulled their sentry lines closer into the inner system. Our escape should be straightforward, as should our rendezvous with the Vigilant to retrieve our sky-walker.”

  “And then back to the Ascendancy?”