Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(19)

There was a signal from the comlink on Thrawn’s belt. “Perhaps more coordinated than you know.” He pulled out the comlink and turned it on. “Speak.”

“Large ship, heavy freighter or small warship, heading toward your position.” Faro’s voice holds tension and determination. “Second ship, plus four smaller ships, making orbit. Orders?”

“They cannot be allowed to escape,” Vader said. “Order the Chimaera to attack.”

“It would be unwise to reveal the Chimaera’s presence and firepower at present,” Thrawn said. “Let us first see if the survivors of the coming attack can provide us with the information we need.”

“Unlikely they will know the incoming ships’ space combat capabilities,” Vader countered.

“The Chimaera is even now gathering that information.”

“Data from that distance will be insufficient,” Vader rumbled. “I have ordered Commander Kimmund to intercept, examine, and engage if necessary.”

“I am in command, Lord Vader.”

“You command the Chimaera,” Vader said. His voice and stance are stiff. His hand rests near his lightsaber. “I command the First Legion. You will instruct Faro to release them to the attack.”

“Very well,” Thrawn said. “Commodore, you will permit Commander Kimmund and his men to depart. I place the Chimaera under your command. You may act on your own discretion.”

“Acknowledged, Admiral.”

He returned the comlink to his belt. “The warrior’s path lies before us,” he said. “Let us follow its guidance.”





“The warrior’s path lies before us,” Thrawn said, nodding through the windscreen at the cantina looming in front of them. “Let us see where it leads.”

Anakin suppressed a sigh. Whether a soldier called it a motto, an aphorism, or a war cry, his personal experience was that most of those who continually spouted them turned out to be not very good at their jobs once the shooting began.

Jedi were the exception to that rule, of course. Most of the ones Anakin had met could trot out an aphorism for nearly any occasion, but despite that most of them did just fine in combat.

Maybe Chiss were like Jedi in that respect. But he doubted it.

The cantina itself looked equally unpromising. It was large but old, bordering on the decrepit, something that had never been all that impressive to begin with and had been going downhill ever since. The windows were shuttered, the door scarred and faded with age.

The people moving back and forth down the streets looked equally scarred and faded, as did the whole outpost. The ruins Black Spire was built beside and into looked ancient, like something lost out of time, with the mixed sense of intrigue, desperation, and ruthlessness that he’d seen in so many similar settlements. In this kind of environment, there was no telling what sort of trouble Duja had stumbled on.

But what level of trouble could have persuaded her to drag Padmé all the way out here with her?

“Do you see them?” Thrawn asked.

Anakin looked around at the people shuffling their way across the dusty streets. “See who?”

“Two beings to our left, three to our right,” Thrawn said. “They’ve begun to slowly converge on us.”

“Really,” Anakin said, resisting the impulse to look. Ambushes were always easier to turn when the attackers didn’t know they’d been spotted. “You think our smugglers are still unhappy with us?”

“These aren’t the ones who tried to breach your ambassador’s ship,” Thrawn said. “Indeed, if they remained in ground vehicles they’re most likely still traversing the forest. But they certainly could have signaled ahead.”

“Well, if they think getting us out of the way will let them go back and move the ship, they’re going to be disappointed,” Anakin said grimly. “I bounce-locked the ship’s systems before we left. Without the code, they’ll never get it to fly.”

“Perhaps they’ve already investigated and know that,” Thrawn said as he pulled to a stop by the cantina. “These five may be hoping to extract the release code from you.”

Anakin shrugged as he got a hand on the windscreen and hopped over the landspeeder’s side. “Like I said. They’re going to be disappointed.”

The cantina’s interior was as depressing as the exterior. There were barely a handful of patrons seated at various tables, a few talking together in low voices but most sitting solitary vigil over their drinks. The bartender was standing behind a wraparound wooden bar, gazing dully at the patrons as he absently polished a small obsidian mug from a line of similar vessels lined up in front of him. Behind him, the wall was covered with a tangle of pipes, filters, bubblers, and other less identifiable devices. Briefly, Anakin wondered if the place was happier, or at least busier, at mealtimes.

He put the thought behind him. They were here for information, not companionship.

The bartender shifted his gaze to the door as the two newcomers walked in, his eyes following them as they made their way through the maze of tables. “Afternoon, visitors,” he said in accented Basic as they reached the bar. “What drinks do you choose?”

“We choose the cool quaff of information,” Thrawn said in Meese Caulf.

A look flashed across the bartender’s face, as if he was mentally shifting gears. “Information, you say,” he said in the same language.