Thrawn (Star Wars: Thrawn, #1)

“That possibility being…?”

“Some other project,” Thrawn said thoughtfully. “Something large, and unannounced.”

“Militaries sometimes have off-the-list projects going on,” Eli pointed out. “But I don’t know how large it could be. I suppose the first step would be to check the Senate and finance ministry’s public records.”

“Unless the project has been made invisible even to them.”

“That would argue something even smaller,” Eli said. “Secret project or not, the money has to come from somewhere. Not just material costs, but engineering, worker payments, and resource transport. The bigger it is, the harder all that is to hide.”

“But not impossible?”

“My parents always said that nothing was impossible,” Eli said. “If you’d like, I can look into it.”

“I would be most appreciative,” Thrawn said. “Thank you.” He gestured to a door ahead. “I was told our new orders would be waiting for us here.”

“Ah,” Eli said. That was fast. Apparently the High Command had known in advance what the panel’s verdict would be. At least he and Thrawn wouldn’t just be sitting around in limbo.

Still, the news was likely to be mixed. From what he’d read, courts-martial were the ultimate in career killers. Even if the officer was acquitted, he was usually given only ground or orbital assignments for the next few years. Given the navy’s attitude toward nonhumans—and given the way Thrawn had ruffled both Admiral Wiskovis’s and Captain Rossi’s feathers on his way to scoring only half a victory—he doubted it would be one of the nicer or more prestigious ground assignments, either.

And where Thrawn went, would Eli follow?

“Ensign Eli Vanto?” a voice came from behind them.

“Yes, ma’am,” Eli confirmed, turning around.

The woman striding toward them was middle-aged, dressed in a quiet but expensive-looking business outfit topped by a short cloak. Her expression was cool, her skin smooth with the look of someone who rarely if ever walked beneath an open sky. “A word, if you please?” she asked.

Eli looked at Thrawn. “You may speak with her,” Thrawn said. “I will get our orders and return.” He sent the newcomer a brief look, then continued on toward the door he’d indicated. It slid open, and he disappeared inside.

“You may speak with her?” the woman echoed. “I didn’t know even ensigns needed permission from their superiors to talk with people.”

“That’s just the way he talks,” Eli said, feeling his face warming. Thrawn had long since become fluent in Basic, but his ability to phrase his comments in polite or diplomatic ways was still sometimes woefully lacking. “You are…?”

“My name is Culper,” the woman said. “I’m an aide to Moff Ghadi.” Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “You do know who Moff Ghadi is, I assume?”

“Of course,” Eli said. He actually had heard of Ghadi—the moff of the important Tangenine sector here in the Core, he vaguely remembered. Beyond that one fact, though, the details of Ghadi’s life and position were somewhat fuzzy.

“Good,” Culper said briskly. “His Excellency has been following this case with some interest. He concurs with the outcome, but is somewhat displeased that your role in the lieutenant’s success was not more fully acknowledged.”

“Not hard to explain,” Eli said. “Lieutenant Thrawn was the one who identified the impostor Cygni as a plant, laid out a plan to capture him, then executed that plan with skill and efficiency.”

“But hardly alone,” Culper pointed out. “You and the other members of the Blood Crow’s crew were vital to his achieving that result.”

“Which has been stated time and again,” Eli reminded her. “Mostly by Lieutenant Thrawn himself. Who I believe has also recommended commendations for all of us.”

“But not promotions.”

“Junior officers don’t get to tell senior officers how to do their job,” Eli said. “I trust High Command and the Imperial Navy to do what is right and proper.”

Culper smiled thinly. “Ah, yes. Right and proper. Two high-sounding but meaningless words. One doesn’t get what one deserves in this universe, Ensign Vanto. One certainly shouldn’t wait for what someone else considers right or proper. No, one must be alert for opportunities and take firm grasp of them.” She lifted a hand, closed it emphatically into a fist.

“Is there an opportunity out there that I’m missing?”

“Indeed,” Culper said. “His Excellency Moff Ghadi has many contacts and associates across the Empire. One of them, a governor in a prestigious Inner Rim system, is in need of an assistant military attaché. A single word from His Excellency, and the job is yours.” Another thin smile. “And you would certainly be promoted to lieutenant along the way, with promotion to captain soon following.”

“Interesting,” Eli said. “Unfortunately, I’m committed to three more years of service to the navy before I could even consider such an offer.”

“Not a problem,” Culper assured him. “In the particular system at issue, the attaché’s office is an extension of the Imperial Navy. You’d be serving out your Imperial commitment even while establishing yourself in the local hierarchy.”

“Sounds even better,” Eli said. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not yet ready for a desk job.”

“This would hardly be a desk job,” Culper said, her lips twisting just slightly with amusement or contempt. Apparently, Eli was even less well informed about such things than he’d realized. “You’d liaison with the Imperial Navy, yes; but you’d also be an officer in the system fleet’s own defense force. Before you know it, you’d have a command of your own. A patrol craft to start with, then a frigate, up to a light or even heavy cruiser.”

“Sounds intriguing,” Eli said.

“More than simply intriguing, I would hope,” Culper said, her smooth forehead wrinkling. “You seem oddly hesitant, Ensign. I trust you realize that there are senior officers throughout the navy who would jump at a chance like this. For His Excellency to offer it to an officer as junior as you is unheard of.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Eli agreed. “Which leads to the obvious question: Why me?”

Culper shrugged. “One might just as well ask why not you? You’ve proved yourself capable in an unusual situation, you’ve made a name for yourself—” She paused, her eyes flicking to the door through which Thrawn had just exited. “And it’s not like the navy has your future in mind.”

Eli looked away, a knot forming in his stomach. Culper was right on that one, anyway. Thrawn was on his way to a desk assignment of his own, with his aide likely falling meteorlike alongside him.

Or instead, Eli could take Moff Ghadi up on his offer and command his own ship.

He’d never considered that as a possibility for his future. He’d been in supply at the Academy, and the best that career track had to offer was chief supply officer on a Star Destroyer or possibly command of a major ground-based depot.

But that career track was long gone. Now he was an officer’s aide…and if there were ever a path that led nowhere, that was it. He might end up a captain, possibly even a lieutenant commander; but he would always be standing in the shadow of a full commander, an admiral, or a grand admiral.

Or instead, he could be captain of his own ship.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime. He would be a fool to turn it down.

But could he really pull this off? Could he command an entire ship, even one as small as a system patrol craft? He didn’t have the training or the experience. He certainly didn’t have the gifts of leadership or charisma.

But still. Captain of his own ship…

“I trust the location is not a problem,” Culper said into his hesitation. “To be perfectly honest, an Inner Rim assignment is more than generous.”

Eli’s thoughts froze. “What do you mean, more than generous?”

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