'Captain?' someone said quietly in his ear-Lieutenant Tschel, he tentatively identified the voice. 'Excuse me, sir, but Grand Admiral Thrawn asked to be informed immediately if anything out of the ordinary happened.' Pellaeon nodded slightly, glad of any interruption. 'What is it?'
'It doesn't seem dangerous, sir, or even very important,' Tschel said. 'A Noghri commando ship on its way in almost didn't give the recognition response in time.'
'Equipment trouble, probably,' Pellaeon said.
'That's what the pilot said,' Tschel told him. 'The odd thing is that he begged off putting down at the Nystao landing area. You'd think that someone with equipment problems would want his ship looked at immediately.'
'A bad transmitter isn't exactly a crisis-level problem,' Pellaeon grunted. But Tschel had a point; and Nystao was the only place on Honoghr with qualified spaceship repair facilities. 'We have an ID on the pilot?'
'Yes, sir. His name's Khabarakh, clan Kihm'bar. I pulled up what we have on him,' he added, offering Pellaeon a data pad. Surreptitiously, Pellaeon took it, wondering what he should do now. Thrawn had indeed left instructions that he was to be notified of any unusual activity anywhere in the system. But to interrupt the ceremony for something so trivial didn't seem like a good idea.
As usual, Thrawn was one step ahead of him. Lifting a hand, he stopped the Noghri clan dynast's presentation and turned his glowing red eyes on Pellaeon. 'You have something to report, Captain?'
'A small anomaly only, sir,' Pellaeon told him, steeling himself and stepping to the Grand Admiral's side. 'An incoming commando ship was slow to transmit its recognition signal, and then declined to put down at the Nystao landing area. Probably just an equipment problem.'
'Probably,' Thrawn agreed. 'Was the ship scanned for evidence of malfunction?'
'Ah ...' Pellaeon checked the data pad. 'The scan was inconclusive,' he told the other. 'The ship's static- damping was strong enough to block-'
'The incoming ship was static-damped?' Thrawn interrupted, looking sharply up at Pellaeon.
'Yes, sir.
Wordlessly, Thrawn held up a hand. Pellaeon gave him the data pad, and for a moment the Grand Admiral frowned down at it, skimming the report.
'Khabarakh; clan Kihm'bar,' he murmured to himself.
'Interesting.' He looked up at Pellaeon again. 'Where did the ship go?'
Pellaeon looked in turn at Tschel. 'According to the last report, it was headed south,' the lieutenant said. 'It might still be in range of our tractor beams, sir.
Pellaeon turned back to Thrawn. 'Shall we try to stop it, Admiral?' with Thrawn looked down at the data pad, his face tight concentration. 'No,' he said at last. 'Let it land, but track it. And order a tech team from the Chimaera to meet us at the ship's final destination.' His eyes searched the line of Noghri dynasts, came to rest on one of them. 'Dynast Ir'khaim, clan Kihm'bar, step forward.'
The Noghri did so. 'What is your wish, my lord?' he mewed.
'One of your people has come home,' Thrawn said. 'We go to his village to welcome him.'
Ir'khaim bowed. 'At my lord's request.' Thrawn stood up. 'Order the shuttle to be prepared, Captain,' he told Pellaeon. 'We leave at once.
'Yes, sir,' Pellaeon said, nodding the order on to Lieutenant Thchel.
'Wouldn't it be easier, sir. to have the ship and pilot brought here to us?'
'Easier, perhaps,' Thrawn acknowledged, 'but possibly not as illuminating. You obviously didn't recognize the pilot's name; but Khabarakh, clan Kihm'bar, was once part of commando team twenty-two. Does that jog any memories?'
Pellaeon felt his stomach tighten. 'That was the team that went after Leia Organa Solo on Kashyyyk.'
'And of which team only Khabarakh still survives,' Thrawn nodded. 'I think it might be instructive to hear from him the details of that failed mission. And to find out why it's taken him this long to return home.' Thrawn's eyes glittered. 'And to find out,' he added quietly, 'just why he's trying so hard to avoid us.'
CHAPTER
