Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil

The hyperspace swirl became stars, and the Grayshrike’s guard duty at Jamiron had officially begun. “Full scan,” she ordered, searching the starscape. The planet was home to several major manufactories, which meant a fair amount of traffic in and out, and any prudent pilot knew to bring them out of hyperspace at a cautious distance to make sure they didn’t run into anyone. “Signal Patrol Command that we’ve arrived,” she continued, searching the sky. Even at the Grayshrike’s current distance, they should be close enough to at least see a hint of their ultimate destination. There was a faint flicker just about where the planet should be—

“Senior Captain, I’ve got laserfire,” Vimsk said sharply. “Mid-range, level, four degrees starboard.”

“It’s near the planet,” Senior Commander Erighal’ok’sumf added from the weapons station. “Combatants too small to make out from here; probably patrol ships or gunboats.”

“Belay that call to Patrol Command,” Ziinda ordered as Apros crossed the bridge to the weapons station. “If whoever’s shooting out there hasn’t spotted us, let’s not announce ourselves. Mid Captain Apros?”

“Weapons systems and crews are ready,” Apros confirmed, leaning over Ghaloksu’s shoulder as he checked the monitors.

“Acknowledged,” Ziinda said, frowning at the sensor display. Vimsk was right—the ships were too small to show anything other than vague blurs from here. But none of the reports had said anything about the Kilji battle cruiser having any fighter escorts. Had Jixtus brought in more forces, like everyone was expecting him to? Or was this something new?

Well, whoever they were, they were going to regret starting a fight over a Chiss planet. “Wikivv, I need an in-system jump to combat range,” she told the pilot. “As close as you can without sacrificing a safety margin.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wikivv said, peering at her displays as she worked rapidly at her control board. “We can’t get too close anyway—they’re still pretty deep in the gravity well. I can’t get us closer than about fifty kilometers.”

“Good enough,” Ziinda said. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The seconds ticked by. Ziinda gazed at the distant planet, forcing herself to remain calm. Sitting here watching helplessly as a battle raged was excruciating, but she knew better than to rush an in-system jump, especially one that would take them close to the critical line in Jamiron’s gravity well. She ran her eyes over the status displays, just for something to do—

“Got it, ma’am,” Wikivv said.

“Bridge, stand ready,” Ziinda said. “Wikivv: Three, two, one.”

The starscape twitched, the distant planet grew instantly to fill half the viewport, and the tiny flickers Ziinda had seen became the blazing laserfire of a running battle directly ahead. “Shrent, warn them off,” she ordered. She looked at the sensor display, noting the number of ships and their positions—

And felt her eyes widen. “Vimsk, confirm sensor readings,” she said.

“Confirmed, Captain,” the sensor officer said. “Targets are four Clarr freighters with one light cruiser escort. Attackers are—” Her professional tone stumbled. “—four Chiss patrol ships.”

“Two Clarr patrol ships coming around from polar orbit,” Ghaloksu reported. “Three more Chiss patrol ships … they’re engaging the two Clarr.”

Ziinda hissed between her teeth. Was this some family dispute that had boiled over into armed combat? In past millennia such things had been distressingly common, but that kind of violent overreaction had supposedly ended three hundred years ago following the creation of the modern Syndicure. Was someone seriously trying to go back to the old ways?

If they were, starting a fight in the middle of an Ascendancy-wide crisis was just plain stupid. She could only hope the Grayshrike could stop the nonsense before it went too far. “Wikivv, get us in there,” she ordered. “Ghaloksu, prepare spheres.”

“Spheres ready, ma’am,” Ghaloksu confirmed. “We need to be a little closer for optimal range.”

“Understood,” Ziinda said. “Use your best judgment on the timing. Shrent, any response?”

“No, ma’am,” Shrent said. “The attackers are jamming all communications.”

“You have IDs on anyone?”

“Not yet, ma’am,” Shrent said. “I can see through the jamming enough to tell that the freighters and cruiser are running beacons, but they aren’t clear enough to make out. There’s nothing coming from the attackers.”

Ziinda nodded. Hardly surprising, given the circumstances. “Vimsk, can you at least tell if they’re the local Jamiron defenders or if they’re outsiders?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Vimsk said. “I should be able to see ID numbers or family crests at this range, but I’m not spotting anything.”

“Looks like they’ve been masked or obliterated,” Apros said. “Maybe we’ll be able to pick up some hints when we’re closer.”

“Or pick up some prisoners,” Ziinda said. “Vimsk, what’s the freighters’ status?”