Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil

“Probably tava mist,” Thrawn commented absently from the side, most of his attention on his questis. “Harmless and relatively easy to obtain.”

“I don’t know what it was,” the captain said, throwing a sideways look at Thrawn. He’d been doing a lot of that during his debriefing, Thrass had noted, even while he was ostensibly talking to and being questioned by Lappincyk. Probably wondering why a Stybla senior official was having him go through such a humiliating failure—and right on his own bridge—in front of a pair of Mitth. “When our minds finally cleared, we were prisoners and the hijackers were transferring our cargo to their own vessel.”

“Did they transfer all of it?” Lappincyk asked. “Every crate?”

“Every crate,” the captain said tiredly. “It took all fifty hours of our journey here. It was only once they’d left that we discovered they’d disabled our thrusters, hyperdrive, and transmitters.”

“How long ago since they left?” Thrawn asked.

The captain sent him another sideways look. Definitely resentful at having a couple of non-Stybla present, Thrass decided. “Twenty-seven hours,” he said. “We had just barely cobbled together our receiver when you signaled.”

Lappincyk looked at Thrass. “Your thoughts, Syndic?”

“I don’t know,” Thrass said. The cargo ship’s captain’s dubious expression, he noted, had now been transferred from Thrawn to him. Not just a non-family military officer, but a non-family syndic, as well. There were probably more humiliating combinations for a simple working person, but offhand Thrass couldn’t think of any. “They’re over a day ahead of us, and we still don’t know where they’re headed.”

“On the contrary,” Thrawn said calmly. “I believe I know exactly which planet they’re going to.” He stopped, raising his eyebrows at Lappincyk.

The other took the cue. “Thank you, Captain,” he said, gesturing to the other Stybla. “You may return to your cabin. A Defense Force ship is on its way to tow you to the blackdock and begin repairs.”

“I obey, Senior Aide,” the captain said, standing up. He bowed deeply to Lappincyk, gave tentative and abbreviated versions of the bow to Thrawn and Thrass, and left the bridge.

The hatch closed behind him, and Lappincyk turned to Thrawn. “Explain,” he said.

“The hijackers are going to a planet designated as Pleknok,” Thrawn said. “It’s about fifty-two hours—”

“No, not just the final answer,” Lappincyk interrupted. “I want the full explanation, if you please.”

Thrawn shot a look at Thrass, then gave a small shrug. “The placement and orbit of the cargo ship would have brought it into sensor range of the blackdock approximately seven days from the hijackers’ departure,” he said. “That means seven days before the alarm goes out. Those same seven days are all the time they have to travel to the trading planet, sell the stolen goods, and return to their base in the Ascendancy. If we assume one day to meet the traders, arrange a deal, and off-load the goods, that leaves six.”

“So three days there and three days back?” Thrass suggested.

“More likely two there and four back,” Thrawn said. “They’ll want a buffer to make sure their ship is on the ground and out of sight before any search begins. But three is definitely the upper limit.”

He handed his questis to Lappincyk. “There are several areas of the Chaos beyond Glastis Three that are particularly difficult to traverse. Most travelers avoid them, which makes them ideal for clandestine criminal activity. If we limit our search to three days’ travel time from here, the marked section is the only one in range. There are no developed worlds or systems in there, and only one marginally habitable planet.”

“If they’re doing all their business in orbit, the world below them doesn’t have to be habitable,” Lappincyk pointed out as he studied the questis.

“Agreed,” Thrawn said. “But if it comes to a choice, most people prefer to have somewhere nearby as an emergency retreat. A world with water and an oxygen atmosphere can make a crucial difference if repairs are needed or one is forced to go into hiding.”

“We’ll have to hope the hijackers and their friends feel that same way,” Lappincyk said. “So Pleknok, you say.” He frowned. “Pleknok. Why does that name sound familiar?”

“You’ve demonstrated considerable knowledge of ancient battles, Senior Aide,” Thrawn said. “Focus your memory on more recent conflicts. Say, nineteen years ago.”

For a long moment Lappincyk stared at the questis. Surreptitiously, Thrass slid out his own questis and punched in the relevant date and planet name.

Lappincyk got there first. “Of course,” he said. “A Boadil group was in the system studying it for possible development when it was attacked by a pair of Paataatus warships. The survey ship was damaged but was able to escape back to the Ascendancy. The Defense Force sent out a response, found the Paataatus doing their own survey, and beat them soundly enough that they never came back.”