“But close enough,” Arihnda said. She looked at Yularen. “I’m finished. Thank you.”
“Wait,” Juahir pleaded as the ISB agents started her toward the door. “Arihnda, I was your friend. I helped you out when you needed someone. Can’t you help me now?”
Arihnda held up her hand. Yularen did likewise, and the agents stopped. “Here’s what I’ll do, Juahir,” she said. “Colonel Yularen is going to interrogate you. If you give him everything—and I mean everything—he’ll send you to prison instead of having you executed.”
Juahir’s face had gone even whiter. “Arihnda—”
“I’m on the road to power now,” Arihnda interrupted. “If I achieve my goals, I should be able to pull enough strings to get you out in a few years. If not…” She shrugged.
“Arihnda!”
But Yularen had already gestured, and the men were on the move again. Arihnda remained where she was, not turning, until the door closed again behind her.
“What about her?” Yularen asked.
Arihnda turned, blinking away sudden tears. H’sishi was standing silently in the doorway of her office, watching them.
Had Yularen just asked her for advice?
Of course he had. Yularen and Tarkin had been in contact regarding the Higher Skies affair, and while Arihnda’s new status hadn’t been officially announced the colonel had probably been given the news. “Commander Thrawn said she was in the clear, didn’t he?”
“That was his conclusion, yes,” Yularen said.
“Did you find anything in the records to contradict that?”
“No.”
“Then I suppose we can let her go.” Arihnda lifted a warning finger toward the Togorian. “But I’d recommend you leave Coruscant as soon as possible. Your former employee might try to shift some of her guilt onto your back. She does that sort of thing to her friends.”
“Thank you,” H’sishi said gravely. “Mistress Arihnda; Colonel Yularen.” Turning, she disappeared back into her office.
Arihnda smiled. Mistress Arihnda. A meaningless title, a veneer of respect overlaying a deeper and more casual disdain. The title of the small and powerless.
But she was done with it now. Done with it forever.
Governor Pryce. Yes, that was better. Much, much better.
—
Another week, Eli had gotten used to saying to himself, another mission.
This time it was smugglers, small gangs working out of obscure systems. The Thunder Wasp had proved especially good at rooting out such blights upon Imperial commerce, and Coruscant had apparently taken notice.
Of course, Thrawn owed at least some of that success to Eli’s own talent at identifying and tracking shipping and supplies. That had led to successful attacks on no less than four smuggling operations, three of which had included black-market doonium.
Two of which had apparently included Nightswan.
Eli scowled to himself. This whole Nightswan thing was starting to get out of hand. The Thunder Wasp had been in time to close down one of the schemes Eli had spotted, but they’d been too late to stop the other before it was abruptly shut down. Worse, Eli had identified at least five other operations that seemed to fit Nightswan’s pattern that were out of the Thunder Wasp’s patrol area and thus out of Thrawn’s ability to defeat.
Thrawn always sent warnings to the commanders in the affected sectors. But the communications were usually too slow, or the ships were too busy with other matters, or the commanders simply didn’t believe him. ISB was only marginally better, and even there it was often only Colonel Yularen who took the reports seriously.
Thrawn always spoke of patterns and connections. After nearly four years of serving with him, Eli was only now getting the knack of spotting those patterns. Others in the navy apparently weren’t so astute. Possibly they never would be.
The one puzzle neither Eli nor Thrawn had so far been able to figure out was why Nightswan was so obsessed with taking doonium away from the Empire, and what the Empire itself wanted with the stuff.
They weren’t building ships with it. Every time Eli ran the numbers, the amount of doonium the Empire was gathering far exceeded any possible need. Were they stockpiling it against some future need for ships? Thrawn’s discussions at the Palace—could the Emperor be planning something special? A series of expeditions into the Unknown Regions, perhaps? There were too many questions Eli didn’t have answers to.
But those questions paled before the one looming before them today. Namely, the question of why he and Thrawn had been suddenly summoned back to Coruscant.
It couldn’t be over the Cyphar incident. Thrawn had already been cleared of misconduct over his actions there. Had Yularen discovered something new about Nightswan that he wanted to share personally? Or had the High Command decided they were tired of Thrawn’s continual focus on the man and wanted him to stop harassing the other commanders just because he thought they weren’t doing their job?
Or had Eli perhaps crossed some unseen line in his searches and examinations of the subject? The fact that he’d been specifically ordered to appear with Thrawn was more than a little unnerving.
“Do you know what this is about, sir?” Eli murmured to Thrawn as a group of senior officers filed into the room.
“No,” Thrawn said. “But I find it interesting that you were also summoned.”
So Thrawn had noticed that, too. Not really surprising.
“Try to read their faces,” Thrawn murmured.
Eli suppressed a grimace. He was trying. Had been trying since the officers began filing in. Focusing his attention on the admiral in the lead, he studied the man’s expression and body language—
And caught his breath, his analysis sputtering to a halt as the last man in line appeared through the doorway.
Grand Moff Tarkin.
And suddenly, all bets were off. Tarkin’s title was technically a civilian one, his position giving him authority across a huge swath of the Outer Rim. But he also wore an Imperial Navy uniform, and his duties and authority straddled both civilian and military venues.
Which area, Eli wondered, was he representing today?
The admiral in the center waited until everyone was seated. Then she rose to her feet. “We are met this morning,” she said, “to pay special honor to two of our own.”
Eli blinked. Honor? So this wasn’t another inquiry board or court-martial?
“Never has any officer of the Imperial Navy achieved such success in so short a time,” the admiral continued.
Eli felt a whisper of relief, mixed with a hint of melancholy. So that was it. Thrawn had been called back to receive yet another promotion.
Not that Eli begrudged him the recognition. On the contrary, he more than deserved it. Aside from the thorn in the side that was Nightswan, his record was an unbroken string of wins against the enemies of the Empire.
“It is therefore with great pleasure that this board confers upon Commander Thrawn the rank of commodore. Congratulations, Commodore Thrawn.”
And there it was. Eli smiled and tried to look happy—which he was, really—as he joined in the applause. Coming all the way to Coruscant seemed excessive for what was, for Thrawn, a fairly commonplace ceremony, but at least they could get back to space now. Even as the admiral stepped forward and handed Thrawn his new insignia plaque, Eli started mentally sorting through the files that ought to lead them to their next smuggler nest—
“It is also an honor and privilege,” the admiral continued, “for this board to rectify a situation that has too long been allowed to stand.”
Eli frowned, thoughts of lists and supply manifests vanishing. Was there a situation Thrawn had gotten himself into that Eli hadn’t heard about?
“It is therefore with equal pleasure that this board confers upon Ensign Eli Vanto—”
Eli caught his breath. It was happening. It was finally happening. After all this time, they were finally promoting him to lieutenant.
“—the rank—”
Lieutenant Vanto. The sound in his head was like a drink of cool, clear water after a session in the dojo. Lieutenant Vanto…