Star Wars - Outbound Flight Read online

  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 acceptin
g 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.”

  “You need not fear their presence,” Thrawn assured him. “Nothing said will be repeated outside this room.”

  “That’s not the point,” Mitth’ras’safis said. “We have Chiss business to discuss, which is none of their concern.”

  “Perhaps not now,” Thrawn said. “But in the future, who knows?”

  Mitth’ras’safis eyes narrowed. “Meaning… ?”

  Thrawn shook his head. “You’re gifted in many ways, my brother,” he said. “But you have yet to develop the farsightedness you will need to survive the intrigues and conflicts of political life.” He gestured toward Car’das and Maris. “We have been granted a rare opportunity: the chance to meet and interact with members of a vast but hitherto unknown political entity, people with insights and thoughts different from our own.”

  “Is that why you insist on bringing them along even when giving an admiral an official tour?” Mitth’ras’safis asked, eyeing Car’das doubtfully. “You think their thoughts will be of value?”

  “All thoughts are worth listening to, whether later judged to be of value or not,” Thrawn said. “But equally important are the social and intellectual bonds we are building between us. Someday, our Ascendancy and their Republic will make contact, and the friends and potential allies we create now may well define what direction that contact will take.”

  He looked at Car’das and Maris in turn. “I imagine both of them have already come to that same conclusion, though of course from their own point of view.”

  Car’das looked at Maris. Her slightly twisted lip was all the answer he needed. “Yes, actually, we have,” he admitted.

  “You see?” Thrawn said. “Already we understand each other, at least to a small extent.”

  “Maybe,” Mitth’ras’safis said doubtfully.

  “But you came here with specific business to discuss,” Thrawn reminded him. “May my guests call you Thrass, by the way?”

  “Absolutely not,” Mitth’ras’safis said stiffly. He looked at Maris, and his expression softened a little. “Though I understand you saved my brother’s life,” he added reluctantly.

  “I was glad I could help, Syndic Mitthrassafis,” Maris said in Cheunh.

  Mitth’ras’safis snorted and looked at Thrawn, and the hint of a wry smile finally touched his lips. “They really aren’t very good at it, are they?”

  “You could try Minnisiat,” Thrawn offered. “They speak that better than they do Cheunh. Or you could use Sy Bisti, which I believe you also know.”

  “Yes,” Mitth’ras’safis said, switching to an oddly accented Sy Bisti. “If that would be easier.”

  “Actually, we’d prefer you stick with Cheunh, if you don’t mind,” Car’das said in that language. “We could use the practice.”

  “That you could,” Mitth’ras’safis said. He hesitated, then inclined his head. “And since you were both instrumental in saving my brother’s life… I suppose it would be all right for you to call me Thrass.”

  Maris bowed her head. “Thank you. We’re honored by your acceptance.”

  “I just don’t want to keep hearing my name mispronounced.” Thrass turned back to Thrawn. “Now,” he said, his tone hardening again. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

  “The job for which I was commissioned,” Thrawn replied. “I’m protecting the Ascendancy from its enemies.”

  “Its enemies,” Thrass said, leaning on the word. “Not potential enemies. Do you hear the difference?”

  “Yes,” Thrawn said. “And no.”

  Thrass lifted a hand, let it slap against his thigh. “Let me be honest, Thrawn,” he said. “The Eighth Ruling Family is not happy with you.”

  “They sent you all the way here to tell me that?”

  “This isn’t a joking matter,” Thrass bit out. “That pirate treasure ship was bad enough. But this last escapade was far and away over all the lines. And right under an admiral’s nose, too.”

  “The Vagaari aren’t pirates, Thrass,” Thrawn said, his voice low and earnest. “They’re a completely nomadic species—hundreds of thousands of them, perhaps millions. And sooner or later, they will reach the Ascendancy’s borders.”

  “Fine,” Thrass said. “When they do, we’ll destroy them.”

  “But why wait until then?” Thrawn pressed. “Why leave our backs turned while millions of other beings are forced to suffer?”

  “The philosophical answer is that we don’t force anyone to suffer,” Thrass countered. “The practical answer is that we can’t defend the entire galaxy.”

  “I’m not asking to defend the entire galaxy.”

  “Really? And where would you have us stop?” Thrass gestured toward the wall. “Ten light-years beyond our borders? A hundred? A thousand?”

  “I agree we can’t protect the entire galaxy,” Thrawn said. “But it’s foolhardy to always permit our enemies to choose the time and place of battle.”

  Thrass sighed. “Thrawn, you can’t continue to push the lines this way,” he said. “Peaceful watchfulness is the Chiss way, and the Nine Ruling Families won’t stand by forever while you ignore basic military doctrine. More to the point, the Eighth Family has made it clear that they’ll release you before they permit your actions to damage their standing.”

  “We were both born as commoners,” Thrawn reminded him. “I can live that way again if I have to.” His lips tightened briefly. “But I’ll do what I can to assure that the Eighth Family doesn’t release or rematch you on my account.”

  “I’m not worried about my own position,” Thrass said stiffly.

  “I’m trying to keep my brother from throwing away a fine and honorable career for nothing.”

  Thrawn’s eyes took on a distant look. “If I do throw
it away,” he said quietly, “I guarantee that it won’t be for nothing.”

  For a long moment the two brothers gazed at each other in silence. Then Thrass sighed. “I don’t understand you, Thrawn,” he said. “I’m not sure I ever have.”

  “Then just trust me,” Thrawn suggested.

  Thrass shook his head. “I can trust you only as far as the Nine Ruling Families do,” he said. “And that trust is strained to the breaking point. This latest incident…” He shook his head again.

  “Do you have to tell them?” Maris spoke up.

  “With four warriors dead?” Thrass countered, turning his glowing eyes on her. “How do I keep that a secret?”

  “It was a reconnaissance mission that got out of hand,” Maris said. “Commander Thrawn didn’t go there with any intention of fighting.”

  “Any mission to that region would have been pushing the lines,” Thrass told her heavily. “Still, I can try to frame it in those terms.” He looked back at Thrawn. “But it may be that nothing I say will make any difference. Action was taken, and deaths ensued. That may be all the Ruling Families will care about.”

  “I know you’ll do what you can,” Thrawn said.

  “But is what I can do the same as what I should do?” Thrass asked. “It would seem that protecting you from the consequences of self-destructive decisions merely gives you freedom to make more of them. Is that really the best way to serve my brother and my family?”

  “I know what my answer would be,” Thrawn said. “But you must find the answer for yourself.”

  “Perhaps someday,” Thrass said. “In the meantime, I have a report to prepare.” He gave Thrawn a resigned look. “And a brother to protect.”

  “You must do what you feel right,” Thrawn said. “But you don’t know these Vagaari. I do. And I will defeat them, no matter what the cost.”