Outbound Flight Page 15

  Fortunately, Thrawn's crew also recognized the need for haste. Three minutes later, the fighters and assault teams had all signaled their readiness.

  "Stand by, fighters," Thrawn said, his eyes on the battle. "Fighters attack . . . now." In the distance there was a flicker of pseudomotion, and the six Chiss fighters appeared in a loose line just off the projector's starboard side. "Helm: prepare to follow."

  Thrawn had called the enemy's defense setup overconfident, but there was nothing sloppy about their response to this unex­pected threat. Even as the Chiss fighters swung into their attack the Vagaari ships began to spread out, trying to deprive the in­truders of clustered targets as they returned fire with lasers and missiles.

  Unfortunately for them, their attackers' commander had al­ready seen Vagaari fighter tactics in action. The enemy ships got off perhaps two shots each before the Chiss settled into their own counterattack and the Vagaari fighters began exploding. Less than a minute after their sudden arrival, the Chiss held the field alone.

  Alone, but not unnoticed. In the near distance, the three larger warships were beginning to respond, their aft batteries opening fire as they began ponderously turning around.

  "Fighters: take defensive positions," Thrawn ordered. "Helm: go."

  Car'das set his teeth. The stars began their usual stretch into starlines; then with a horrible-sounding thud from somewhere aft, the stars were back.

  "Assault One to projector's starboard side," Thrawn called. "Assault Two to port. Chief Yal'avi'kema, you have five min­utes."

  "Question is, do we have five minutes?" Car'das muttered, eyeing the shots starting to sizzle past the Springhawk's canopy.

  "I think so," Thrawn said. "They'll need to be much closer before they can attack in earnest. Otherwise, they risk overshoot­ing us and destroying their own projector."

  "So?" Car'das countered. "Isn't that what they probably think we're trying to do to it?"

  "Actually, I suspect they're rather confused about our inten­tions at the moment," Thrawn said. "An attacker whose sole pur­pose was destruction would hardly have had to move in this close." He gestured toward the battle. "But whatever they per­ceive our plan to be, they still must allow the projector to remain functional as long as possible. Once the gravity shadow vanishes, the defenders inside its cone will be free to escape and possibly regroup. They thus cannot risk overshooting us and must come in closer."

  Car'das grimaced. Certainly the logic made sense. But that was no guarantee the Vagaari wouldn't do something stupid or panicky instead.

  The enemy warships had made it halfway around now, allow­ing them to bring their flank laser batteries into play. Still, so far they did seem to be concentrating most of their fire on the Chiss fighters arrayed against them.

  And then, as the light of the distant sun played across the warships' sides, Car'das spotted something he hadn't noticed be­fore. "Hey, look," he said, pointing. "They have the same bub­bles all over their hulls that we saw on the treasure ship."

  "Get me a close-up," Thrawn ordered, his eyes narrowing. On the main monitor display the running series of tactical data vanished and was replaced by a hazy telescopic view of the bub­ble pattern.

  Car'das felt his throat suddenly tighten as, beside him, he heard Maris's sharp intake of breath. "Oh, no," she whispered.

  The bubbles weren't observation ports, as Qennto had once speculated. Nor were they navigational sensors.

  They were prisons. Each one contained a living alien being, all of them of the same species as the mangled bodies Car'das could see floating among the battle debris. Some of the hostages were cowering against the walls of their cells, while others had curled up with their backs to the plastic, while still others gazed out at the battle with the dull resignation of those who have al­ready given up hope.

  Even as they watched, a stray missile exploded a glancing blow at the edge of the telescope display's view. When the flash and debris cleared away, Car'das saw that three of the bubbles had been shattered, their inhabitants blown into space or turned into unrecognizable shreds of torn flesh. The metal behind the broken bubbles, clearly the main hull, was dented in places but appeared to be intact.

  "Living shields," Thrawn murmured, his voice as cold and as deadly as Car'das had ever heard it.

  "Can your fighters use their Connor nets?" Car'das asked ur­gently. "You know—those things you used on us?"

  "They're still too far away," Thrawn said. "At any rate, shock nets would be of little use against the electronic compartmental­ization of war vessels that size."

  "Can't they shoot between the bubbles?" Maris asked, her voice starting to shake. "There's room there. Can't they blast the hull without hitting the prisoners?"

  "Again, not at their distance," Thrawn said. "I'm sorry."

  "Then you have to call them back," Maris insisted. "If they keep firing, they'll be killing innocent people."

  "Those people are already dead," Thrawn replied, his voice suddenly harsh.

  Maris flinched back from his unexpected anger. "But—"

  "Please," Thrawn said, holding up a hand. His voice was calm again, but there was still an undercurrent of anger simmer­ing beneath it. "Understand the reality of the situation. The Va­gaari have killed them, all of them, if not in this battle then in battles to come. There's nothing we can do to help them. All we can do is focus our resources toward the Vagaari's ultimate de­struction, so that others may live."

  Car'das took a deep breath. "He's right, Maris," he told her, taking her arm.

  Angrily, she shook it off and turned away. Car'das looked at Thrawn, but the other's attention was already back on the ap­proaching warships and the six Chiss fighters standing in their path.

  "Assault One reports Vagaari crew has been eliminated," one of the crewers called. "Chief Yal'avi'kema reports that they've lo­cated the projector's collapse points and are folding it for trans­port. Assault Two is assisting."

  "Order Assault One to assist, as well," Thrawn said. "I thought there would be some sort of quick-set arrangement," he added to Car'das. "The Vagaari wouldn't want to hold position for hours as they assembled their gravity projectors in full view of their intended victims." He looked back at the Vagaari warships, their turns now nearly completed, and his mouth briefly tight­ened. "Stand ready to fire on the war vessels."

  Car'das looked at Maris, but her back was to him, her shoul­ders hunched rigidly beneath her vac suit.

  "Weapons ready."

  "Fire full missile bursts on my command," Thrawn said. His eyes flicked to Maris— "And instruct the fighters to fire shock nets at the war vessels' bridge and command sections at the mo­ment of minimum visibility."

  "Acknowledged."

  "Fire missiles," Thrawn ordered. "Chief Yal'avi'kema, you now have two minutes."

  "Chief Iral'avi'kema acknowledges, and estimates the projec­tor will be collapsed on schedule." Across by the distant warships, there were multiple flashes of light as the Chiss missiles struck

  "Helmets!" someone barked.

  Car'das reacted instantly, snatching up his helmet and throw­ing it over his head, peripherally aware that everyone on the bridge was doing the same. He had locked the helmet onto its collar and was looking for the source of the threat when there was a sudden burst of light and fire and the portside section of the canopy disintegrated.

  Through the deck he felt the thud of airtight doors slamming shut, and for a fraction of a second he heard the wail of warning alarms before the sudden decompression robbed them of any conducting medium. Blinking against the dark purple afterimage of the flash, he peered through the still swirling debris at the im­pact point.

  It was as bad as he'd feared. The three Chiss who'd been closest to the blast were lying twisted and crumpled on the deck. Other Chiss had also been thrown from their chairs, though most of them appeared to still be alive. Here and there he could see crewers struggling with torn suits or cracked helmets as they or fellow crewers fastened
emergency patches in place. The con­trol boards in the area of the blast had been turned into mangled, sharp-edged twistings of metal and tangled wiring, while else­where the rest of the panels appeared dead.

  He was still assessing the damage when Maris suddenly shoved past him, nearly knocking him off his feet, and dropped to her knees beside the command chair.

  It was only then that he saw that Thrawn, too, was lying on the deck, his glowing eyes closed, a violently fluttering tear in the chest of his vac suit leaking away his air.

  "Commander!" he snapped, dropping to the deck beside Maris and fumbling in his suit pocket for a sealant patch. "Medic!"

  "I've got one," Maris said, a patch already in hand. Ripping off the protective backing, she slapped it against the torn fabric. For a moment it bulged with the remaining air pressure from in­side the suit; and then, to Car'das's horror, one edge began to come loose. "It won't bond to this material," Maris bit out, glancing around her. "Help me find something to hold it."

  Frantically, Car'das looked around. But there was nothing. He looked up at the walls, knowing the Chiss must surely have medpacs scattered around their warships. But he couldn't focus enough of his mind on the Cheunh lettering to read the mark­ings.

  "Never mind," Maris gritted. She pushed down the edges of the patch again; and then, with just a second of hesitation, she leaned over to lie chest-to-chest across his torso, pressing her stomach against the wound. "Go get help," she ordered, wrap­ping her arms tightly around Thrawn's back to hold herself in place. "Come on—this can't be doing his injuries any good."

  Breaking free of his paralysis, Car'das turned toward the door.

  And once again was nearly bowled over as two Chiss pushed past him, dropping to their knees on either side of their uncon­scious commander and the human lying across him. "Prepare to move," one of them snapped, a large patch gripped between his hands. ". . . move."

  Maris rolled away. Almost before she had cleared the wound area the Chiss had his patch in place, completely covering the one Maris had tried to use. She pushed herself completely away, and Car'das saw thin tendrils of smoke drift up from the edges of the new patch. "Seal good," the Chiss confirmed.

  The second crewer was ready, jabbing the hose of a hand-sized air tank into a valve built into the helmet collar. "Pressure stabilizing," he reported, peering at a row of indicator lights be­side the valve.

  "Can we help?" Maris asked.

  "You've already done so," the first Chiss said. "We'll handle it from here."

  They had lifted Thrawn between them and were heading for the airtight door when the stars outside the canopy abruptly flashed into starlines.

  For the first two hours the medics worked behind sealed doors, with no news coming out and only fresh supplies and more injured going in. Car'das hung around the medbay area, trying to stay out of the way, occasionally being pressed into ser­vice to run errands for the staff. He didn't know at first what had happened to Maris, but from bits of overheard conversation he eventually learned she was helping clear debris from the bridge.

  They were still four hours from home when the two of them were finally summoned into medbay.

  They found Thrawn half lying, half sitting on a narrow bed inside a set of biosensor rings that wrapped around him from neck to knees like the ribs of a giant snake. "Car'das; Ferasi," he greeted them. His face was drawn, but his voice was clear and calm. "I'm told I owe you my life. Thank you."

  "It was mostly Maris, actually," Car'das said, not wanting to accept credit he didn't deserve. "She's faster in emergency situa­tions than I am."

  "Comes of spending time with Rak on the Bargain Hunter;" Maris said, trying a smile that didn't reach all the way to her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

  "Not well, but apparently out of danger," Thrawn said, studying her face. "I'm also told you've been assisting with the task of clearing the bridge."

  She shrugged self-consciously. "I wanted to help."

  "Even after I launched missiles against the Vagaari's living shields?"

  She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry I ...well, that I complained about that," she said. "I realize you didn't have any choice."

  "Which doesn't necessarily make it easier to accept," Thrawn said. "It is, unfortunately, the sort of decision all warriors must make."

  "Did we get the gravity projector, by the way?" Car'das asked. "I never heard one way or the other."

  Thrawn nodded. "It was collapsed and spark-welded to the outside of the hull just before we made our jump. All six of the fighters escaped, as well."

  Car'das shook his head. "We were lucky."

  "We had a good leader," Maris corrected. "The Vagaari are going to be very unhappy about this."

  "Good," Thrawn said evenly. "Perhaps they'll be angry enough to make an overt move against the Chiss Ascendancy."

  Car'das frowned. "Are you saving you were trying to goad them into an attack?"

  "I was trying to obtain a gravity projector," Thrawn said. "Other consequences will be dealt with if and when they occur."

  Car'das looked sideways at the medics and assistants working on the other casualties. "Of course," he murmured.

  "Meanwhile, our focus must be to return to Crustai with all possible speed," Thrawn continued. "We need more complete medical assistance for our wounded, and to begin repairs to our vessels."

  "And in the meantime, you probably need some more rest," Maris added, touching Car'das's arm and nodding toward the door. "We'll see you later, Commander."

  "Yes," Thrawn said, his eyes turning to glowing red slits be­hind sagging eyelids. "And I'm sure you were right, Car'das. I imagine Qennto will be sorry he missed all the excitement."

  They arrived at the base to discover that Qennto had far more pressing matters on his mind than missed adventures.

  "I'll kill her," the big man promised blackly as he glared at Maris and Car'das through the slotted plastic door of his cell. "I ever get her alone, I swear I'll kill her."

  "Just calm down," Maris soothed, her tone a mixture of pa­tience and understanding. It was a combination she seemed to use a lot with Qennto. "Tell us what happened."

  "She tried to rob me—that's what happened," Qennto bit out. "You were both there. Thrawn specifically told us we could pick some of the loot from the pirate ship in payment for lan­guage lessons. Right?"

  "More or less," Maris agreed cautiously. "Unfortunately, Ad­miral Ar'alani outranks him."

  "I don't care if she's the local deity," Qennto shot back. "That stuff I picked out was ours. She had no business trying to take it away."

  "And of course, you told her so," Car'das murmured.

  "I'd watch my mouth if I were you, kid," Qennto warned, glaring at him. "You may be teacher's pet here, but it's a long way back to civilization."

  "So what happened to your collection?" Maris asked.

  "She was going to take all of it with her," Qennto said, let­ting his glare linger on Car'das a couple of seconds longer before turning back to Maris. "Luckily for me, that other Chiss—that Syndic Mitth-whatever—"

  "Thrawn's brother," Maris interjected.

  Qennto's eyes widened. "No kidding? Anyway, he decided he needed to hear Thrawn's version first, so he made her leave it behind. But then she insisted it be put under prescribed seal, whatever the fizz that means."

  "So bottom line is . . . ?" Car'das asked.

  "Bottom line is that it's locked away somewhere," Qennto growled. "And according to Syndic Mitth-whatever, even Thrawn can't get it out."

  "We'll check with him," Maris promised. "Incidentally, it's not Syndic Mitth-whatever. It's Syndic Mitthrassafis."

  "Yeah, sure," Qennto said. "So go talk to Thrawn, already. While you're at it, see if you can get me out of here."

  "Sure," Maris said. "Come on, Jorj. Let's see if the comman­der's accepting company."

  At first the guard outside Thrawn's quarters was reluctant to even inquire as to whether the commander would see them. But Maris eventually
persuaded him to ask, and a minute later they were standing at his bedside.

  "Yes, I saw Thrass's report," he said when Maris had out­lined the situation. He still looked weak, but definitely stronger than he had back aboard the Springhawk. "Captain Qennto needs to learn how to control his temper."

  "Captain Qennto needs to learn how to control more that that," Maris said ruefully. "But being locked up has never done him any good before, and it's not likely to do anything now. Can you get him released?"

  "Yes, if you'll warn him about disrespecting Chiss command officers," Thrawn said. "Perhaps we should simply lock him up whenever one is on the base."

  "Wouldn't be a bad idea," Maris agreed. "Thank you."

  "What about the items your brother had sealed away?"

  Car'das asked. "Qennto will be impossible to live with until he gets them back."

  "Then it's time he began developing patience," Thrawn said. "A syndic of the Eighth Ruling Family has declared it sealed against a command officer's claim of possession. It cannot be un­sealed until Admiral Ar'alani returns to present her arguments."

  "When will that be?" Car'das asked.

  "Whenever she so chooses, but probably not until the Va­gaari treasure ship has been examined and its systems and equip­ment analyzed. She'll want to be present for that."

  "But that could take months," Car'das protested. "We can't stay here that long."

  "And we can't go back without the extra goods to placate our clients," Maris added.

  "I understand," Thrawn said. "But it truly is out of my hands."

  Behind Car'das, the door slid open. He turned, expecting to see one of the medics

  "So warriors' fortune has finally failed you," Syndic Mit­th'ras'safis said as he strode into the room.

  "Welcome," Thrawn said, beckoning him in. "Please; come in."

  "We need to speak, Thrawn," Mitth'ras'safis said, eyeing Car'das and Maris as he stepped to the other side of his brother's bed. "Alone."