Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(55)

“So what exactly were they supposed to pick up on Batuu that was worth all that?” Skerris asked. “Do we know?”

“I believe we do,” Thrawn said. “To clarify, though, I believe they were at Batuu for both pickup and delivery. Consider that several of the small transports were already on the ground near Black Spire. I believe the plan was for the first freighter, the one Commander Kimmund captured, to remain in orbit and transfer one cylinder to each of the four smaller transports that had just arrived.”

“They did look like they were moving toward the freighter when they spotted us and started running,” Skerris said.

“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “They would have begun with the four already in space, then continued with those waiting on the ground, which would presumably join the freighter in orbit at their own schedule. The second freighter was to land and gather the”—his eyes flicked to Vader—“Grysks’ prisoners, bringing them to orbit and likewise transferring one to each transport.”

“All of it taking place off the ground, where the locals wouldn’t get a good look,” Faro said.

“So who exactly are these Grysks?” Kimmund asked.

“Very little is known for certain,” Thrawn said. “But some things can be deduced.” He touched a control, and the conference table’s holoprojector lit up with a series of images. “These are some of the artistic pieces that have been created in memorial by survivors of Grysk conquests. Compensating for the creators’ cultural biases and patterns, I believe that the tales of vast hordes of the enemy are inaccurate. More likely they utilize unfamiliar tactics and weaponry, not simple numbers, to overwhelm their opponents.”

Faro nodded. Back when she first came aboard the Chimaera, she’d often been frustrated by the fact that she didn’t have a clue as to what Thrawn was seeing in all this artwork, let alone understand how he arrived at his conclusions. Now she simply admired the pretty pictures, and trusted him to know what he was talking about.

“Nor do I believe the myth that they are nomadic,” Thrawn continued. “Most beings began on planetary worlds, and do not easily give them up. Moreover, the images and designs of their ships in these pieces strongly indicate a preference for sun, sky, and soil to the blackness of space. Commander Kimmund, your report stated that you observed what you took to be surprise on the prisoners’ faces when they first saw the Chimaera.”

“Yes, sir, I believe that was their response,” Kimmund said. “We’ll hopefully know more when the medical droids finish analyzing the biosensors we connected to their restraints.”

Faro forced down a grimace. That had been her idea, which Kimmund had supposedly turned down on the grounds that the Darkhawk didn’t have the necessary equipment and that attaching sensors in the first place might warn the prisoners that something special was in the works. Apparently, somewhere on the return trip he’d found both the equipment and the daring to try it.

And since her suggestion had been oral and on a closed transmission, and his report was written and fully on the record, he would undoubtedly get the credit for it.

In Grand Admiral Thrawn’s fleet, such things didn’t matter that much. In the rest of the navy, and certainly on Coruscant, they mattered a great deal.

She was pretty sure they mattered to Vader, too.

“That would support your conclusion that they are not nomadic,” Vader said. “If they were, a ship the size of a Star Destroyer would not impress them.”

“Perhaps,” Thrawn said, inclining his head to the other. “But make no mistake,” he continued, sending his gaze around the rest of the table. “The Grysks are not to be underestimated. If they fled from combat today, it is because they chose to do so.”

“Just like we did?” Kimmund asked.

Thrawn’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Explain.”

“I meant, sir, that we too have the choice of combat or otherwise,” Kimmund said, his voice steady. “My question was whether you’re planning to involve the Empire with these Grysk. A warlike species that doesn’t seem to be bothering us.”

A dead silence filled the conference room. Thrawn and Kimmund sat unmoving, their gazes locked. Faro found her own eyes shifting between Kimmund and Vader, wondering if the Dark Lord was going to slap down his legion commander for such insubordination.

Only he didn’t. Did that mean Vader himself had ordered Kimmund to ask the question?

“When I was first brought before the Emperor,” Thrawn said at last, his voice calm, “I warned him there were many dangers waiting to strike from the Unknown Regions. He took me at my word. Ultimately, he granted me the rank of grand admiral. Are you questioning his judgment?”

Kimmund’s lip twitched, his eyes shifting once to Vader before returning to Thrawn. “No, sir.”

“Good,” Thrawn said. “Then be assured, Commander, that when we engage the Grysks—not if, but when,” he added, his gaze again sweeping the table—“it will be because they are indeed a threat to the Empire.” His eyes steadied again on Kimmund. “Have you further questions?”

Again, Kimmund glanced at Vader. “No, sir.”

Thrawn turned to Faro. “Commodore, how long until we reach the coordinates I set for you?”

“Twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes, sir,” Faro reported.