“The humans have some precious metals they want to smuggle,” Eli said slowly, working out the logic. “Possibly because they discovered a new vein eight months ago.” He looked sharply at Thrawn. “Beneath the Afes’ territory?”
“That’s the most likely reason for the colonists’ sudden demand for Afe land.”
“So they putter around with their own smuggling efforts for a while,” Eli continued. “Then someone calls in Nightswan. He shows them how to do it properly, they start shoving out their backlog inside the shellfish, and decide they want better access to the vein.” He shook his head. “Kind of sloppy. You’d think someone as clever as Nightswan could have come up with a new technique instead of repeating himself.”
“Come now,” Thrawn said, mildly chiding. “Don’t you recognize an invitation when you see one?”
Eli looked at the shipping list again. “Pretty daring,” he said. “Also pretty stupid. He just barely won the last round. You’d think he’d have learned to quit while he was ahead.”
“Ah, but did he win the last round?” Thrawn countered. “We agree he won at Umbara, but we really don’t know how many other confrontations he and I may have had over the past few months. Only those operations that he signs, as it were, do we know to attribute to him.”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“I have,” Thrawn said, his voice going dark and thoughtful. “Perhaps you hadn’t noticed, but there appears to be a growing number of these incidents around the Empire. There’s been an increase in smuggling activity, which robs Coruscant of tariff money. Thefts of metals like doonium have also increased, at the very time the Empire is attempting to gather together as much of those resources as possible. There have been disputes like this one, sometimes between peoples on a single world, sometimes between neighboring systems, all of which distract attention and drain military resources. Even more disturbing, there are a growing number of incidents of unrest or open revolt.”
“And you think Nightswan is behind them?”
“All of them?” Thrawn shook his head. “No. At the moment the turmoil is unorganized. Nightswan is not a shadowy mirror image of the Emperor, guiding a growing army of disaffection. But I likewise have no doubt that Nightswan has had a hand in some of the incidents. In many of those, I suspect, he achieved his intended goal.”
“Whatever that goal happened to be,” Eli mused. “And now, he’s invited us to this one. I’m glad we could fit him into our schedule.”
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “Let us see what he has arranged for us this time.”
—
“I really don’t understand the purpose of this meeting, Commander,” Mayor Pord Benchel said. His expression is tense, the muscles in his throat equally tight. His voice holds resentment and frustration. “You’ve asked nothing that wasn’t in our reports and sworn statements to Coruscant. Have you even read them?”
“I have,” Thrawn said. “The purpose of this meeting is so that I may meet you in person. You, and the rest of the dispute committee.”
“It’s not a dispute committee,” Lenora Scath put in. Her expression holds anger, as does her voice. “It’s a committee for justice. We’re the ones who’ve been attacked, Commander, not the Cyphari.”
“The reports suggest that is a matter of dispute,” Thrawn said. “Hence, the term I have assigned you.”
“Not our reports,” Brigte Polcery retorted. Her expression and voice also hold anger. “Not any report that anyone in his right mind could believe.”
“Are you suggesting I am not in my right mind?” Thrawn asked mildly.
“No, of course not,” Polcery said hastily. Her anger decreases, replaced by caution. “I’m just saying you can’t trust the Cyphari to tell the truth. That clan thing of theirs means everyone always just repeats what the clan leader says.”
“I see,” Thrawn said. “Do you agree, Mr. Tanoo?”
“Excuse me?” Clay Tanoo asked. His body stance suggests surprise and nervousness.
“I asked if you agreed that Cyphari statements cannot be trusted.”
“Oh.” Tanoo looked at the others. “Yes, of course. The clan thing. You know?”
“I have been told,” Thrawn said. “By reliable sources.” Their expressions shift. Benchel and Scath wonder if the statement is an insult. Polcery and Tanoo are certain that it is. Some of the other seventy-three people gathered in the assembly room show similar emotions. Most are merely nervous or frightened. Those in the rear of the room are possibly too far away to hear the testimony. The sides of the room are covered with banners depicting their life on Cyphar. The designs and patterns speak of the hardship and determination of their past, and of their hope for their future. Woven within those patterns are their closeness of family and distrust of outside authority. “Thank you. You may all return to your other activities.”
“Thank you, sir,” Benchel said. “May we ask what decision you’ve come to?”
“I have hardly had time to make a decision, Mayor Benchel. My next task is to view directly the disputed territory.”
“I’d advise against that, Commander,” Polcery said. “The Cyphari have threatened to attack anyone who comes onto their land without permission.”
“So I have heard,” Thrawn said. “Fortunately, I have already received Afe Chief Joko’s invitation.”
The reactions of expression and body stance are brief. But they are sufficient.
“Well, good luck to you,” Benchel said. “I’d advise you to take a guard along anyway.”
Three minutes later, the shuttle lifted into the air and flew off across the landscape. “Your conclusions, Ensign Vanto?” Thrawn invited.
“Not entirely certain, sir,” Vanto said thoughtfully. “Mayor Benchel is an obvious choice—he’s loud and passionate and did most of the talking. But I’m thinking he may be a little too loud.”
“And the others?”
“I’d say Scath and Polcery. Maybe Tanoo, but he seems a little too slow and simpleminded. I can’t see Nightswan trusting him with big secrets.”
“You forget that the conspiracy was already in place when Nightswan was brought in,” Thrawn said. “He may not have had any choice as to participants. Anyone else?”
“I didn’t see anything from the other ten committee members. As far as I could tell, they were just regular colonists who’d been caught up in events, or possibly manipulated into believing what the others told them. Ditto for the onlookers.”
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “My congratulations, Ensign. Your skills have improved markedly.”
“Thank you, sir,” Vanto said drily. “Which ones did I miss?”
“None,” Thrawn said. “Scath, Polcery, and Tanoo are indeed involved in the conspiracy. Mayor Benchel, as you have already surmised, is one of the duped. Have you any further thoughts or conclusions?”
“Not yet, sir,” Vanto said.
“There is yet time,” Thrawn assured him. “Study further. We will speak again after we have met with Chief Joko.”
—
Eli had done a quick study of the Cyphari during the Thunder Wasp’s voyage, and the closest image he’d been able to come up with for the natives’ appearance was large stick insects with Rodian snouts and neat rows of short red fur.
Which, in real life, turned out to be exactly what they looked like.
“I know not what to tell you, Commander Thrawn,” Chief Joko said, his voice simultaneously grating, whiny, and melodious. It was an interesting combination, one Eli hadn’t run into before. “The reports of my clansfolk are true and accurate. The humans from the Hollenside Enclave have crossed the border on many occasions, stealing and mistreating our crops and attacking or burning our farm structures.” He reached a long arm behind him and tapped the inner surface of the conical meetinghouse he had invited the Imperials into. “Once, a home was also burned.”
“Fortunate that it was not the clan meetinghouse,” Thrawn said, sending a long gaze around the structure and the dozens of designs decorating it. “This structure is rich with the culture and history of the Afe clan.”
“It is,” Joko said. “Few of the Empire would notice. Fewer still would appreciate.”