Madras walks to the center of the mat, the fighting sticks in her hands. Her body stance holds uneasiness.
“Ms. Pryce, please walk alongside me,” Thrawn said. “There is a question I wish to ask.”
“Of course.” Pryce moved to his side.
Thrawn, Pryce, and H’sishi walked to the center of the mat. “You said you worked for an advocacy group,” Thrawn said. “Which one?”
“It’s called the Higher Skies Group,” Pryce said.
“Thank you,” Thrawn said. “Stand clear, now. Instructor H’sishi, let us begin.”
Pryce and Madras stepped away. “The timer is for three minutes,” H’sishi said. She crossed her sticks in salute. Thrawn mirrored the gesture.
They began.
H’sishi is a good fighter. But her focus is solely on the combat, with no thought for other matters. She does not notice as the relative positions are slowly altered until Pryce and Madras are within view.
Both watch the combat, neither speaking to the other, though a quick conversation could have occurred before they were fully in view.
Their expressions are inconclusive. Both women are fascinated by the combat, with all fears, concerns, and thoughts submerged.
With H’sishi herself there are no longer doubts.
The three minutes end. H’sishi steps back and again crosses her sticks.
“Excellent, Captain,” she said. “Your style is unknown to me, but you have clearly been well trained.”
“Thank you, Instructor,” Thrawn said. He crossed his own sticks and then offered them to Madras. She walks forward and takes them, her eyes avoiding his gaze. “Perhaps the next time I have duty on Coruscant you will teach me some of your style. It is of your species?”
“Yes, a Togorian form,” she said. “I hope you will find the time. I would welcome you as both student and teacher. And now, Colonel Yularen, I will retrieve the records you requested.”
They waited while she went to her office and returned with a data card. Yularen accepted it, then led the group back outside. “Well, that was interesting,” Yularen commented as they walked toward their aircar. “I assume, Captain, that you didn’t simply feel the need for a little exercise?”
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “I presume you noted that Instructor Madras did not stop the sparring when we first entered?”
“She didn’t stop when Pryce came over to talk, either,” Yularen said. His tone conveys thoughtfulness. “And that despite the fact that the noise made conversation difficult.”
“They didn’t stop until H’sishi ordered them to,” Vanto added.
“I assume you think it wasn’t just rudeness?” Yularen asked.
“I think she knows who I am,” Thrawn said. “She certainly knows who you are, Colonel. And so she stalled our meeting, wishing additional time to prepare herself.”
“Interesting,” Yularen said. “Unfortunately, it’s a reaction ISB agents see all the time. Everyone has dirty secrets.”
“But not everyone has secrets concerning Higher Skies,” Thrawn said.
“The advocacy group?” Yularen asked.
“Yes,” Thrawn said. “It is the one with which Ms. Pryce works. I asked about it before the sparring, and watched Instructor Madras as Ms. Pryce supplied me with the name. She reacted with discomfort.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” Thrawn said. “For one reason or another, the group bears investigation.”
“So once you had the name and Madras’s reaction, why did you go ahead with the fight?” Vanto asked.
“I have developed a certain skill for reading human emotions,” Thrawn said. “I do not have such a baseline for Togorians. I wished to know if H’sishi, too, was concerned that I know of Ms. Pryce’s connection with Higher Skies.”
“So you gave her the chance to take you out,” Vanto said slowly. His tone holds growing understanding. “You were the only one of us who’d heard the name. So if she’d wanted to, she could knock you down, claim it was an accident, and buy herself and the group some time.”
“Correct,” Thrawn said. “To be more precise, I offered what looked like opportunities to injure me. They were, of course, illusory.”
“Of course,” Vanto said. His tone is properly respectful, but also holds irony. “So when you were attacked at Royal Imperial Academy…?”
“I wished to study the attackers’ capabilities,” Thrawn said. “I would have protected you from serious harm, as indeed I protected myself.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about that one sometime, Captain.” Yularen pulls out his comlink. “I’ll get ISB started on Higher Skies and see what we can dig up.”
“I would caution that the investigation be careful and low-key,” Thrawn said. “They will be alert now to such a probe, and we do not wish to drive them away.”
“Yes, we do know how to handle investigations, thank you.”
“I meant no offense,” Thrawn said. “I would also consider it a favor if you would allow me to observe your progress.”
“Sorry, but that won’t be possible,” Yularen said. “New orders came in while you were batting sticks with H’sishi. Ensign Vanto picked them up.” He gestures to Vanto. “Ensign?”
“Yes, sir,” Vanto said. His voice holds hidden frustration. “For the next four weeks, while the Thunder Wasp undergoes repairs, you’ll be at the Palace with Emperor Palpatine. Once the repairs are complete, it’ll return to Mid Rim and Outer Rim patrol duties.” He pauses, his frustration growing deeper. “Under the authority of its newly appointed captain, Commander Thrawn.”
“Congratulations, Commander,” Yularen murmured.
“Thank you,” Thrawn said. He had been promoted. Yet Vanto had not?
That wasn’t as it should be. Vanto had held the rank of ensign a full year longer than was customary. Yet there was nothing Vanto had done or failed to do that should have delayed his promotion.
“Impressive achievement,” Yularen continued. His gaze switches between Thrawn and Vanto. He, too, recognizes something is amiss. “Usually a captain warms that position for at least six years.”
“I understand that during the Clone War promotions occurred more quickly.”
“Wartime will do that,” Yularen said. His voice holds grim memories. “Good luck with your new assignment, and your new command. And don’t worry about Higher Skies. Whatever’s there, we’ll find it.”
No one is immune from failure. All have tasted the bitterness of defeat and disappointment. A warrior must not dwell on that failure, but must learn from it and continue on.
But not all learn from their errors. That is something those who seek to dominate others know very well, and know how to exploit. If an opponent has failed once at a logic problem, his enemy will first try the same type of problem, hoping the failure will be repeated.
What the manipulator sometimes forgets, and what a warrior must always remember, is that no two sets of circumstances are alike. One challenge is not like another. The would-be victim may have learned from the earlier mistake.
Or there may have been an unanticipated or unknown crossing of life paths.
—
“Sorry I missed our last two sessions.” Ottlis’s voice came from Arihnda’s comm. “As I told you, my employer has come for a visit, and we’ve all been pretty busy.”
“I understand,” Arihnda said.
She did, too. Which wasn’t to say she was happy with the situation. Not just because of the interruption in her combat training, but because she really enjoyed Ottlis’s company.
But work was work, and even in the upper echelons of Imperial power only a few had the luxury of picking and choosing their own schedules. “If you ever do get a couple of hours you don’t know what to do with, though, let me know,” she said.