And on both the sensor and tactical displays a set of moving gray wedges appeared.
“Signal all ships,” he ordered the comm officer. “The gray wedges mark the transmission shadows where the vulture droids rely on their own programming. Within those shadows they will be most vulnerable and therefore most easily destroyed.” He raised his voice. “Senior Lieutenant Hammerly?”
“On it, sir,” she called back. On the tactical, four droids flying through the Thunder Wasp’s shadow disintegrated in four bursts of turbolaser fire. “That what you had in mind, sir?”
“It is indeed,” Thrawn confirmed. “Well done.”
“All ships acknowledge our transmission,” the comm officer added. “Gunners are switching tactics.”
And with that, the tide finally began to turn.
But it was bloody. In the end, Gendling’s remaining corvette was severely damaged, nearly half its crew dead or wounded. The Thunder Wasp and Foremost were in better shape, but both ships would need time in a shipyard before they would be combat-ready again.
The vulture droids were all destroyed. The Umbarans had surrendered unconditionally. The Foremost’s stormtrooper squads were on the surface and supervising the surrender of the insurgents.
And Admiral Gendling was furious.
—
“You’re lucky I don’t bring you up on charges right here and now, Commander,” the admiral said. His expression holds embarrassment and guilt. His tone holds harshness and anger. “You do not—do not—usurp an admiral’s authority and command that way. I speak for my crew and to my crew.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Admiral,” Commander Cheno said. His tone holds tension, but also resolve. “I was simply trying to recapture the initiative in the most efficient way possible and save the battle. And with it, a few lives.”
“Are you mocking me, Commander?” Admiral Gendling demanded. “Because if you are, as the Emperor is my witness, I’ll take you down so hard and so fast they’ll have to scrape up what’s left of your career with a flatcake turner. Whose bright idea was it, anyway? I know you didn’t come up with any of that yourself.”
Commander Cheno’s expression remains resolved. “I ordered the information passed to the Foremost and the remaining corvette,” he said. There is a small emphasis on the word remaining. “As for the discovery of the enemy’s weakness, that was a joint effort of my bridge crew.”
With slow deliberation, Admiral Gendling turned his eyes to Thrawn. His arm and torso muscles are rigid. “Your first officer has built himself quite a reputation,” he said to Cheno. “Maybe I should ask him who came up with the transmitter idea.”
“Or maybe you should speak directly with me,” Cheno said. “As you said, the commander speaks for his crew.”
For three seconds, Gendling continues to stare. Then he turns back to Cheno. “I’ll have your career, Commander,” he said. “I’d take your ship, too, but it’s clear that some upstart half your age will do that.”
“If the upstart is deserving, more power to him,” Cheno said.
Gendling smiles with malice and pride. “This isn’t over, Commander. You can be very sure of that. I’ll see you at your court-martial. Dismissed.”
Commander Cheno is silent while returning to the shuttle. Only once aboard, and in flight, does he speak. “Well,” he said. His voice holds weariness. “It looks as if I may not be ending my career quite as quietly as I expected.”
“There is no need to protect me,” Thrawn said. “The Thunder Wasp’s log will answer all his suspicions.”
“Perhaps,” Cheno said. “Logs can be altered, you know.”
“I did not know that.”
“Not easily, of course,” Cheno said. He offers a small smile. “Certainly not legally. Doesn’t matter. As he said, you have a reputation. More to the point, he can’t really bring up all the details of this supposed breach of protocol without exposing his own ineptitude. No, he’ll satisfy himself with destroying my career and leave you and the rest of the Thunder Wasp’s crew alone.”
“That is not right or proper.”
“No, but it is reality,” Cheno said. “As I said, my career isn’t important. What’s important is the future of the Imperial Navy.” He gestures with respect and admiration. “You’re that future, Thrawn. It’s been a privilege to be your commander.”
“Thank you, sir,” Thrawn said. “I have learned a great deal serving under you.”
“I doubt that,” Cheno said. His tone holds dry humor, with no bitterness or resentment. “But I thank you. And I, too, have learned a great deal.”
—
Eli had half expected the shuttle to return empty, with both of its passengers consigned to the Foremost’s brig. To his relief, both Cheno and Thrawn emerged from the docking bay. Cheno murmured something to Thrawn and then headed toward the bridge. Thrawn watched until the commander’s turbolift car departed, then beckoned Eli to join him. “Ensign,” he greeted Eli quietly. “I presume you wish to know how our meeting with Admiral Gendling went. In brief, not very well.”
“I’m not surprised,” Eli said, wincing. The look on Cheno’s face as he left the docking bay…“I take it the commander took the brunt of it.”
“Yes,” Thrawn said. “Partly because he was in command during the battle. Partly because he attempted to shield my role in the outcome.”
“So because Gendling screwed up, he’s taking it out on you,” Eli growled. “I thought only politicians were that level of stupid and nasty.”
“I have found those characteristics in all fields of endeavor,” Thrawn said. “Has your research uncovered anything of use?”
“Maybe.” Eli handed Thrawn his datapad. “The building the transmitter was operating from is owned by a group of humans. The locals don’t know their names and can’t give anything useful in the way of descriptions. But it’s clear you were right about no Umbarans being directly involved in the attack.”
“I doubt Admiral Gendling will take that into consideration.”
“No one’s taking that into consideration,” Eli said sourly. “Since most of the unrest and turmoil was concentrated in the mining districts, Gendling’s already called for the Empire to take direct control of Umbara’s entire mining and refining sector.”
“Interesting,” Thrawn said. “Did you find any indication that Nightswan was directly involved?”
“The transmitter was run by humans,” Eli said. “That’s as close as we’ve gotten right now.”
“Still, we know that Nightswan has been involved in mining and metal smuggling elsewhere,” Thrawn said. “Tell me, how valuable are the Umbaran mineral deposits?”
“Very,” Vanto said. He took back his datapad and keyed in a few commands. “Several important ones. Key among them: doonium.”
Thrawn pondered a moment. “Is there any way to calculate a system’s success rate against smugglers?”
“You can get a rough figure, anyway,” Eli said. “You take the amount of legitimate shipping on some easily identifiable product—those Paklarn grist mollusks, for example—and compare it with the amount being sold elsewhere. The numbers are a little loose, and they obviously don’t apply to every product type. But as I said, it gives you a rough figure.”
“Understood,” Thrawn said. “Do you have that figure for Umbara? If possible, I would like it for the success rate for smugglers of rare metals or rare metal ores.”
Eli called up the relevant numbers, ran a quick mental calculation. “It’s very good,” he said. “Somewhere in the ninety percent range.”
“And the number for a comparable Imperial-controlled world?”
Eli nodded and busied himself with his datapad. “Looks like…whoa. Sixty-five to seventy percent. Though from personal family experience, I’d guess it could actually be as low as forty or forty-five.”