“Not much,” Thrawn assured him. “There are patterns in Imperial communications, as there are in everything else. Once the pattern is known, knowledge is easier to obtain.”
“That’s quite a skill,” Vanto said. “It would take me hours with a computer and matrix sheet to get anywhere.”
The rest of the group was waiting, seated in a half circle in front of a holoprojector with their backs to the newcomers as Thrawn and Vanto arrived. Four of those in attendance were navy officers and four were civilians, the latter dressed in upper-class governmental style. There were two empty seats between the officers and the civilians.
Standing at one side of the projector was Fleet Admiral Donassius. His expression is controlled, but his body stance holds tension. Standing at the opposite side was Colonel Yularen. His face and stance also hold tension, though he conceals it better than Donassius.
“Admiral Thrawn,” Donassius said, nodding gravely in greeting as Thrawn and Vanto approached the ring of seats. “May I introduce Admiral Durril of the ISD Judicator and the One Oh Third Task Force; Admiral Kinshara of the ISD Stalwart and the One Twenty-Fifth. Admiral Thrawn of the ISD Chimaera, recently assigned the Ninety-Sixth.”
“Honored,” Thrawn said, nodding greetings as he and Vanto passed the end of the row. Kinshara returns the greeting politely, his expression holding no rancor or ill will. Durril’s expression and body stance hold displeasure at the presence of a nonhuman. The other two officers, one a captain, the other a commander, hold the normal courtesy and wariness of aides meeting an unknown flag officer for the first time.
“And these are the governors of the relevant systems,” Donassius continued. “Governor Restos of Batonn; Governor Wistran of Denash; Governor Estorn of Sammun—”
The fourth governor in the line is unexpected.
“—and Governor Pryce of Lothal.”
“Honored,” Thrawn repeated. “It is good to see you again, Governor Pryce.”
“Likewise,” Pryce said. Her expression is cool, her voice professional. But her body stance holds a hidden tension. “I wish it could have been under more pleasant circumstances.”
“Circumstances you’ve been called upon to deal with,” Donassius said. His voice holds grim concern. “Sit down, please, and we’ll get right to it. Colonel Yularen?”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Yularen said. He tapped a key on his remote, and a holo of a section of the Outer Rim appeared. “Batonn sector,” he identified. “We’ve been noting a rise in criminal and insurgent activities here for the past several months. Up until now it was assumed to be the usual random flailings by malcontents. However, we now have indications that some of these groups may be starting to work together, or at least to share information and coordinate plans. None of them is much above nuisance level, but we feel this is a trend we need to stamp out before it spreads.”
“How deep is this cooperation?” Thrawn asked.
“Not very at the moment,” Yularen said. “Insurgent groups are paranoid, practically by definition, and they typically don’t trust one another any more than they trust their own governments. But as I say, they’re starting to talk.”
“So we need to shut them up,” Pryce said.
“A question, Colonel,” Governor Restos put in. “There are four governors here, representing four affected systems. Yet I see the commanders of only three task forces. May I ask which of our systems you’re planning to ignore?”
“The insurgents of Lothal are already being dealt with by Admiral Konstantine,” Donassius said. “Governor Pryce requested to be here as an observer, since her system is close to the area of concern and is experiencing much of the same trouble.”
“I see,” Restos said, eyeing Pryce with a look of suspicion. “As long as Batonn will be getting sufficient attention.”
“Absolutely, Governor,” Yularen said. “In fact, we’re going to start with your world, since it seems to be the focal point for activity in the sector. If we can push back the insurgents there, the other groups should wither away.”
“What do you mean, push back?” Wistran asked. “Where are you pushing back from?”
“At the moment, from a place called Scrim Island, three hundred kilometers west of Batonn’s main continent,” Yularen said. “Five days ago, a group of insurgents overran and took command of the Imperial garrison there. They’re holding at least a hundred hostages, mostly navy troopers and techs, but also some civilian workers. They have full control of the island’s energy shield, its shoreline defenses, and three of its ion cannons. Admiral Thrawn, this one will be yours.”
“Have you a schematic of the facility?” Thrawn asked.
“Certainly.” The holo changed to an aerial view of Scrim Island.
“You said there were three ion cannons,” Thrawn said. “Yet I see eight fortified emplacements along the shoreline.”
“The last status report, about six weeks ago, stated that five of the cannons were awaiting replacement cathtron tubes,” Yularen said.
“Which five?”
“Irrelevant, I’m afraid,” Yularen said. “The insurgents have had enough time to switch out the three functioning tubes, so we don’t know which three cannons are operational.”
“Shouldn’t matter,” Admiral Durril said. He waves a hand in casual dismissal. “You’re not going to breach from above anyway. Best approach is by low-altitude incursion.”
“The shoreline defenses are more than adequate to repel even a sizable attack,” Thrawn pointed out.
“You haven’t been with the navy long, have you?” Durril asked. His tone holds condescension. His gaze drops to the new admiral’s insignia plaque, his expression holding disapproval and resentment. “If you had, you’d know that if more than half the island’s ion cannons are down, then at least half the shore defenses are, too. A few assault boats’ worth of stormtroopers, and it’ll be over.”
“Perhaps,” Thrawn said. “I will need more time to study the situation.”
“There is no time,” Donassius said. “Every hour the garrison is held, the reputation of the Empire is tarnished a little more. Your orders are to proceed at once to Batonn and release the insurgents’ hold on Scrim.” His lip twists. “Destroy the island if you have to, but remove the rebels.”
“Destroying the island would also kill the hostages,” Thrawn said. “There are better ways. But they require more reconnaissance and planning.”
The room is silent. The others’ body stances hold disapproval and discomfort. “Very well,” Donassius said. His voice is stiff. “If you don’t think you can handle it, the Ninety-Sixth can go to Sammun instead. Will that assignment be more to your liking?”
“I will go wherever the navy wishes,” Thrawn said.
“You’ve had enough time with the Ninety-Sixth to operate smoothly together?”
“I have, Admiral.”
“Very well. Admiral Durril, you seem confident that the rebels on Scrim can be easily neutralized. Your One Oh Third will deal with them.”
“With pleasure,” Durril said. His voice holds eagerness and gloating.
“Good.” Donassius gestures to Yularen, his expression holding disappointment. “Colonel Yularen, you may continue your briefing.”
—
“You disapprove of my decision,” Thrawn said as he and Eli walked down the outer steps toward the landing pad where their transport waited.
“I think everyone disapproved of your decision, sir,” Eli said sourly. “Whatever capital you might have had with the High Command, I think you’ve just burned it.”
“For the moment,” Thrawn said calmly, pulling out his datapad and keying it on. “That will change.”
“I don’t see how,” Eli said, trying to see what Thrawn was doing. Images were flashing across the datapad’s display, but from Eli’s angle he couldn’t get any details. “Admiral Durril seemed awfully certain he could take back the island.”
“Admiral Durril is always certain of himself,” Thrawn said. “But he has a tendency to value speed over precision. Sometimes that serves him well. More often, it leads to miscalculation.”