Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(78)

And there was every indication, Faro thought bleakly, that the death and destruction had only just begun.

Grand Admiral Thrawn normally dominated every room he was in. Not this time. He normally carried an air of calmness that extended out to all those around him. Not this time. He always seemed to be in complete control of everything.

Not this time. Standing here in the cramped space of the Darkhawk’s cockpit, facing Lord Vader from barely thirty centimeters away, he seemed small and helpless, a man who was facing death itself.

And yet, there he stood.

“Commander Kimmund cannot be blamed for his actions,” Thrawn said, gazing calmly up at the faceless black helmet. “On the contrary, his actions and those of his stormtroopers were exemplary.”

“Which does not change the fact that they ruined the entire plan,” Vader ground out.

“I warned you that keeping the secret of the prisoners’ marginal imprisonment and the homing beacons could have unwanted consequences,” Thrawn said.

“It was necessary for the Chimaera’s crew to behave as normal,” Vader countered. Astonishing as it was to Faro that Thrawn was chiding the Dark Lord, it was even more astonishing that Vader was actually standing still for it. “The prisoners needed to believe their escape was genuine.”

“I don’t disagree,” Thrawn said. “I merely suggest that a middle ground might have been taken. Commander Kimmund, at least, should have been brought into our confidence, as well as any troopers or stormtroopers who stood between the prisoners’ cells and their frigate.”

Vader didn’t respond. But then, really, there wasn’t much he could say.

Faro had been at the private meeting where Vader had proposed this plan. Thrawn had agreed, and in fact had added a few small suggestions. Neither of them could have known that Kimmund and his stormtroopers would unknowingly get in the way.

They certainly couldn’t have known that Hangar Master Xoxtin would choose to send three off-duty crewmembers across that precise section right when the Grysks made their break.

Xoxtin was furious. For once, Faro didn’t blame her.

Four dead…and with nothing to show for it.

The Chimaera’s techs had made a thorough search of the Darkhawk’s computer. It showed only the route from the Grysks’ hunting ground back to Batuu, where they’d apparently been based, without referencing any other systems. Thrawn’s analysis of everything artistic aboard their ship had yielded some interesting points, but gained them nothing about the Grysks’ local base.

“Still, even a partial success can bring long-reaching results,” Thrawn said into the awkward silence. “As it is, we have now learned a great deal about our new enemies.”

“Such as the fact they have no teeth?” Vader said with an edge of bitterness.

“That, as well,” Thrawn agreed. “Removing a warrior’s teeth and replacing them with upper and lower moldings that contain break-apart weapons, communicators, and lock-breakers is quite ingenious. The ultrasonic signals they sent to their colleagues through the metal bulkheads is also a technology that could be of future use to the Empire.”

“None of which has brought us closer to our goal.”

“Actually, my lord, I believe it has.” Thrawn turned to Faro. “Commodore, you have the record of the communications between the two groups of prisoners. How much information do you estimate could have been passed during that time?”

Faro started. She’d been hoping against hope that Thrawn had brought her into the cockpit solely to serve as a witness to the conversation. As she’d watched Vader’s menace continue to darken she’d further hoped her presence would be mostly forgotten.

Instead, Thrawn had just dropped a conversational grenade in her lap.

How in the world was she supposed to answer such a question? “They were in communication, back and forth, a total of two minutes and eight seconds,” she said. “We can’t tell right now which signal originated from which group of prisoners. Also, without knowing the encryption method they were using—or even their language, for that matter—it’s impossible to know how much they could have said.”

“Understood,” Thrawn said. “So let us assume clear language, with whatever coding they used for the speech but without any encryption to burden or lengthen the message. Under those parameters, what information could you transfer in that time?”

Faro felt her throat tighten. Normally, she didn’t mind Thrawn’s mind games. They helped her stretch her thinking, and anything that made her a better officer was worth seeking out.

But to do it here and now? Especially with Vader on the verge of wrecking the whole place?

The whole place.

She looked around the cockpit with new eyes. Having this conversation aboard the Darkhawk had been Thrawn’s idea, not Vader’s. And Thrawn never did anything without a reason.

She turned back to Thrawn. The admiral had a small smile on his face, the indication that he was once again comfortably ahead of her. “I could tell the Grysk warriors about this ship,” she said. “A brief description, plus where it was located in the hangar bay.”

“And instructions on how to fly it?” Thrawn prompted.

“No, sir,” Faro said firmly. “Not in two minutes. Not a chance.”

“Thank you, Commodore,” Thrawn said, inclining his head to her and then turning back to Vader. “Your personal shuttle was closer to their prison. Their own frigate was farther, but with the advantage that they knew how to fly it. Yet they chose the Darkhawk.”