—
Eli was in his quarters, working on the after-action report he’d been ordered to complete, when they came for him.
Eli had never been in the captain’s private office. He’d never even been in this part of the Strikefast.
And he’d never been in the company of this many high-ranking officers. It was like a board certification session.
Or a court-martial.
“Cadet Vanto,” Captain Parck greeted him. He gestured to a chair that had been set in front of the line of officers. “Be seated.”
“Yes, sir.” Eli sat down, fervently hoping that his shaking wasn’t visible.
“First, I want to commend you for your conduct during the recent action,” Parck said. “You behaved admirably under fire.”
“Thank you, sir,” Eli said. Though as he remembered it, he’d done very little except stay as clear of the fighting and confusion as he possibly could.
“Tell me, what do you think of our prisoner?”
“He seems very confident, sir,” Eli said. Why were they asking him? “Very much in control.” He considered. “Except maybe when he was captured in the hangar bay. You may have caught him by surprise there.”
“I don’t think so,” Parck said. “He surrendered quite readily, with no attempt at resistance or escape.” He cocked his head slightly. “You seem to know something about his people.”
“Not really, sir,” Eli said. “We have stories about the Chiss—more like myths, really—that have been passed down through the generations. As far as I know, none of them has been seen on Lysatra or anywhere in the area for hundreds of years.”
“But you do at least have myths, which is more than we have in the Strikefast’s records,” Parck said. “What do these stories say about them?”
“They’re supposed to be great warriors,” Eli said. “Clever, resourceful, proud. Intensely loyal to one another, too. This exile…they must really hate the idea of preemptive strikes to do that to him.”
“So it would appear,” Parck agreed. “I see you’re on track at Myomar to become a supply officer.”
“Yes, sir,” Eli said, the change in subject momentarily throwing him off balance. “My family is in the shipping business, and they thought Imperial service would be a step up—”
“Have you had any training in teaching or tutoring?”
“Nothing formal, sir,” Eli said. Was Parck going to recommend he switch to a teaching track?
He hoped not. He’d spent his youth flying cargoes for his family, and he didn’t want to be stuck in an office or classroom somewhere.
For a moment the captain gazed at him. Then he leaned back in his seat and looked at the other officers flanking him. A wordless signal passed among them…
“Very well, Cadet,” Parck said, turning back to Eli. “As of this moment, you’re assigned as liaison, translator, and aide to our prisoner. You will also—”
“Sir?” Eli blurted out, feeling his eyes go wide. “But I’m just a cadet—”
“I wasn’t finished,” Parck said. “Along with translation, you’ll also be coaching him in Basic. He has the fundamentals, as you saw, but he needs a more extensive vocabulary and some correction with pronunciation and grammar. Any questions?”
“No, sir,” Eli managed. The surprises were coming way too fast. “Actually, yes, sir, I do. Why does he need to know Basic? Aren’t we putting him back on the planet?”
There was a quiet stir among the officers, and Eli had the sudden sense that he’d just crossed an invisible line. He tensed—
“No,” Parck said. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, as if this was a question he and the others had already hashed over. And hadn’t necessarily agreed on. “We’re taking him to Coruscant.”
“To—?” Eli clamped his mouth shut, visions of ancient kings parading defeated enemies through the streets flashing through his mind.
But surely that wasn’t what Parck had in mind. Was it?
“I believe the Emperor will be interested in meeting him and learning about these Chiss,” Parck said. There was something in his tone that suggested the explanation was as much for his officers’ benefit as for Eli’s. “I also believe that they could prove an important asset to the Empire. Do your myths include any suggestion of where their home planet might be located?”
“Just that they come from the Unknown Regions, sir. Nothing more specific.”
“Pity,” Parck said. “No matter. That will be another of your duties over the next few days: to learn as much as you can about him, his homeworld, and his people.”
“Yes, sir,” Eli said, feeling his heart doing bounce-ups. From lowly cadet to translator and tutor to a being straight out of Lysatra’s stories.
And the only downside was what it might cost his future.
Because he’d already seen that the Empire was a massive construct of giant, unforgiving machinery. If he strayed even a few degrees off his chosen career path, he might suddenly find himself relegated to some other track, something obscure that might send him to the core deck of a forgotten starbase and abandon him there.
Still, this little detour in his path should only fill a week or so while the Strikefast transported Thrawn to Coruscant. After that, Eli would return to Myomar with the other cadets, and with a story he’d be able to tell people for the rest of his life.
And really, what could go wrong?
—
“You seem amused,” Cadet Vanto said. He leans back in his seat.
“Amused?” Thrawn asked.
“Entertained with a feeling of humor,” Vanto said. He switches back to Sy Bisti for the explanation. “Was there anything in particular about this story that you found humorous?”
“I found the story quite interesting.”
“Some of my stories you find interesting,” Vanto said. Wrinkles form across his forehead. “Others you seem to find unbelievable. A few of them you find amusing. This was one of those.”
“I do not mean to offend,” Thrawn said. “But I myself am Chiss, and never have I heard of any of my people wielding such a power.”
“I’ll concede that one,” Vanto said. The wrinkles partially smooth out. “I told you right from the beginning that these stories are barely above the level of myths. But you asked to hear them.”
“I appreciate your willingness to share,” Thrawn said. “One may learn a great deal about a people by the stories they tell of others.”
“And?” Vanto asked. The wrinkles return. His head turns slightly to his right.
“I do not understand.”
“I ask what you have learned about humans,” Vanto said. His eyes narrow slightly.
“I misspoke. Apologies. I meant to say I could learn about one person, you, from the stories you choose to tell.”
“And what have you learned about me?” Vanto asked. His eyes return to normal size. His vocal tone lowers in pitch.
“That you do not wish to be here,” Thrawn said. “You do not wish to act as translator and assistant. You certainly do not wish to act as interrogator.”
“Who said I was an interrogator?” Vanto asked. His tone rises slightly in pitch and volume. The musculature beneath his sleeves tightens.
“You wish to return to your numbers and inventory lists,” Thrawn said. “That is where your talents lie, and where you desire your path to lead.”
“Fascinating,” Vanto said. His tone takes on a new, rumbling texture. The corners of his lips tighten briefly. “I suppose that as a big important military commander you find logistics and supply beneath your dignity?”
“Do you?”
“Of course not,” Vanto said. His torso stretches slightly upward in his chair. His voice takes on a fuller tone. “Because I know better. My family has done that kind of work for three generations. I’m just doing it for the Imperial Navy now instead of for my own family, that’s all.”
“I presume you are good at it.”
“I’m very good at it,” Vanto said. “Lieutenant Osteregi told me I’m one of the best cadets he’s ever had aboard. As soon as I finish my last term at the Academy, I’ll be guaranteed an assignment aboard a ship of the line.”