Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil

“Is the Pathfinder you were following still aboard the Hammer?”

“Yes,” Qilori said. “If you want, I can call and ask to speak—”

He broke off as the Aelos leapt forward, the compensators responding with just enough delay to give the occupants a brief wave of acceleration. “Emergency!” Uingali shouted from right behind him.

“What is it?” Qilori gasped, cringing in his seat. “What’s happening?”

“We are the Nikardun warship Aelos, requesting emergency assistance from the Kilji picket cruiser Hammer,” Uingali continued in the same bellowing voice. “Our weapons and defenses are damaged, and a Chiss warship is in pursuit. We request safe haven and protection until we can make repairs.”

He stopped, and for a long moment the bridge was silent. “Again,” Thrawn said quietly.

“Emergency!” Uingali roared again. “We are the Nikardun warship—”

“Nikardun, how did you find this place?” a stiff voice spat from the bridge speaker.

“We are in need of assistance—” Uingali began again.

“How did you find this place?” the voice interrupted. “You have no purpose here.”

“We rescued the Pathfinder navigator from the Anvil,” Uingali said. “It was he who guided us here.”

“You lie,” the voice accused. “Neither Pathfinder was told in advance of this world.”

Qilori’s winglets stiffened as he looked furtively over his shoulder at Thrawn standing silently beside Uingali. The Pathfinders’ ability to sense and follow each other in hyperspace was the Navigators’ Guild’s deepest and most dangerous secret, one that Thrawn had assured Qilori he would keep to himself. If he and Uingali were about to shred the wall the guild had so carefully built around it, the results could be disastrous.

“The Pathfinder told me that his Kilji captain spoke secrets when he shouldn’t have,” Uingali said. “A mistake we of the Nikardun would never make.”

“You don’t think much of our Kilji allies, then?”

Qilori winced. He’d already been thinking that didn’t sound like a Kilji voice. But now, with this new layer of arrogance, he realized how much it reminded him instead of Jixtus.

Which strongly implied that was, indeed, a Grysk warship keeping station with the Hammer.

He looked again at the magnified image on the nearby display. The only Grysk ship he’d ever seen up close was Jixtus’s personal transport, and this vessel didn’t look anything like that.

Or at least, it didn’t look that way to him. Did Thrawn see it differently? He’d already identified it as akin to the Battle Dreadnought the Chiss had faced and destroyed, but did he realize those ships belonged to the Grysks?

“I think very little of a captain that runs from battle,” Uingali said contemptuously, “leaving its fellow ship and an ally to face the murderous Chiss alone. The other Kilji paid with its life; and we will do likewise soon unless the three of us stand together.”

“I see no sign of any pursuit,” the voice said. “But you may approach so that we can discuss your situation.” He paused. “And, perhaps, your true identity.”

“I look forward to our meeting,” Uingali said. “In the meantime, I urge you to prepare for combat. Whether or not you see pursuit, it is coming.”

“If you’re lying, you will die slowly, and in great pain,” the other said, his voice going cold. “But I greatly hope you are not. The Chiss have taken the lives of many of my people. It’s time we balanced that scale.”