Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil
- Автор: Зан Тимоти
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Random House
- ISBN: 9781473596580
- Жанр: Боевая фантастика
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“Provided the enemy strongly wishes to believe in it,” Jixtus said, a hint of bitterness coloring his tone. “I wish you luck in dealing with her in the future. Perhaps you will find yourself regretting that you allowed her and her people to live.”
“There may indeed be challenges,” Thrawn said. “But I’m sure we’ll find solutions.”
Ar’alani looked at the tactical, running her eyes over the status reports from the various ships, noting to her relief that the Grysk ship explosions hadn’t inflicted any additional damage. Again, just as with the last Grysk warship’s self-destruction, each of these explosions had shattered everything to tiny, harmless bits in order to prevent any useful analysis of the debris.
“You and your allies?” Jixtus countered, his voice now mocking. “You and the Paccosh, Garwians, and Vaks? Don’t fool yourself, Thrawn of the Chiss. You are no different from we of the Grysks. Neither of us has allies, but only enemies and servants.”
“You’re wrong,” Thrawn said. “Allies of convenience are still allies. Consider the irony that it was your own statements that finally convinced them to fight alongside us.”
“But they hate you,” Jixtus insisted. “All of them. They hate and fear the Chiss. Why would they work with their enemies?”
“We aren’t their enemies,” Thrawn said. “I doubt most of them actually hate us, though I’ll concede that they fear the Ascendancy, or at the very least distrust it.”
“Then why would they ally with you?”
“Because,” Thrawn said, and Ar’alani thought she could hear a note of sadness in his voice, “at this one time, and in this one place, we were the lesser evil.”
“I see,” Jixtus said. “Then enjoy your victory, Thrawn of the Chiss. It will be your last.”
“How so?”
“Your career is over,” Jixtus said. “Possibly your life, as well. Certainly your leaders will demand you pay a crushing price for your treason this day, especially given their shortsighted overindulgence in the pursuit of personal power and family honor.”
Ar’alani looked across the bridge, saw the quietly pained expression on Wutroow’s face. Yes, the Syndicure would demand Thrawn pay, all right. It would likely make all of them pay, in fact.
“The Grysks will be back,” Jixtus continued, his voice cold and dark and malevolent. “But you will not be here to stand against them. I wish you and your allies the pleasure of this final memory as you watch your worlds burn.”
And as Ar’alani looked out the viewport, the FateSpinner followed its fellow Grysk ships into annihilation.
“All ships, secure from battle stations,” Thrawn called, sounding as tired as Ar’alani suddenly felt. “Report damage and injuries to the Vigilant.” There was a tone as he keyed to a wider comm broadcast. “Qilori of Uandualon, this is Senior Captain Thrawn. Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here, Senior Captain,” a tentative alien voice came.
“Thank you for your assistance,” Thrawn said. “What is your current status?”
“Generalirius Nakirre is dead,” Qilori said. “Murdered by Jixtus before he left the Whetstone. I’m … the crew have accepted me as their commander, at least for now.”
“Can you return them to their home?”
“I—don’t know,” Qilori said, sounding surprised. “I assumed you’d want to take possession of the ship.”
“Not really,” Thrawn said. “Though we’ll of course examine and disarm it before you’ll be allowed to depart.”
There was a brief pause. Ar’alani focused on the distant Kilji warship, wondering if Qilori was thinking about making a break for it before the Chiss could do anything to stop him. “Apros, cease acceleration and yaw one-eighty,” she ordered. “In case the Whetstone decides to leave early. Grayshrike, stay with him.”
“On it, Admiral,” Apros confirmed.
“Acknowledged, Admiral,” Ziinda said.
“Of course, Senior Captain,” Qilori said with a highly unconvincing enthusiasm. “That won’t be a problem. I’ll await your convenience.”
“After you leave, you’ll also need to make a detour to return Pathfinder Sarsh to Concourse Four Forty-Seven,” Thrawn continued. “I trust that won’t be a problem.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Qilori said, sounding puzzled. “But I thought … Sarsh isn’t lost between stars?”
“Not at all,” Thrawn assured him “He’s currently waiting in the outer system aboard a Paccian troop transport. He was going in and out of hyperspace so that we would know when you and Jixtus were coming.”
“Oh,” Qilori said. “Yes. Of course. I’ll—do you have an orbit you’d like us to wait in?”
“Admiral Ar’alani will instruct you,” Thrawn said. “We’ll speak later.” He keyed off, and Ar’alani heard him shift back to the private Chiss broadcast. “Admiral, have you received the damage reports yet?”
“They’re coming in now,” Ar’alani said. “It’s not as bad as I was afraid it would be. Certainly not as bad as it could have been. Do you want me to talk to the Garwians and Vaks? Thank them again for their help; that sort of thing?”
“I can do that,” Thrawn said. “And Uingali, too, of course, for his assistance in convincing them to wait and observe. If you’ll take over damage coordination, I’ll set up that conversation.”
“Admiral, we have incoming,” Biclian snapped from the sensor station.
Ar’alani spun around to the viewport. Floating ahead of the Vigilant in the near distance—
“This is Admiral Dy’lothe aboard the Chiss Defense Force warship Venturous,” Dy’lothe’s resonant voice boomed from the speaker. “I’ve been sent by the Chiss Syndicure to assess the situation.”
Ar’alani let out her breath in a relieved huff. “This is Admiral Ar’alani,” she said. “Welcome to Sunrise.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” Dy’lothe paused, perhaps taking a longer look at the battleground. “So … what exactly did I miss?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“I’m told the Syndicure has begun an investigation into our family over your dealings with Jixtus,” Roscu said, gazing unblinkingly at the man across the desk. “An inquiry running in parallel with those into the Chaf and Ufsa families.”
“So I hear,” Patriarch Rivlex said, staring back just as unblinkingly. “Once again, the Syndicure oversteps its bounds and authority.”
“I’m told the Chaf and Ufsa Patriarchs have already agreed to step down,” Roscu said. “And that the Clarr Patriels have asked you to do the same.”
“The Patriels likewise overstep their authority,” Rivlex said. “Why exactly are you here, Roscu?”
Roscu. Not Captain Roscu, but just Roscu. Rivlex’s entire senior officer corps had petitioned Rivlex to reinstate her rank in the Clarr family fleet, but the Patriarch wasn’t going to back down over even that small gesture. He’d dug in his heels, defined his enemies, and was in for the long term.
Unfortunately, at the moment his enemies list seemed to include everyone in the Ascendancy who wasn’t him.
“This is merely a courtesy call, Your Venerante,” Roscu said. “I’ve been offered reinstatement in the Expansionary Defense Fleet.”
“Congratulations,” Rivlex said sourly. “I trust you’ll be happy scouring the Chaos for new threats.”
“I’ve also,” Roscu continued, “been offered a commission in the Defense Force.”
And that one finally sparked a reaction. Rivlex’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he seemed to draw back a little. “The Defense Force?”