Vision of the future

* * *

'Captain?'

Nalgol turned away from the unremitting blackness hanging in front of the Imperial Star Destroyer Tyrannic. 'Yes?'

'Relay spark from the strike team, sir,' Intelligence Chief Oissan said, coming to a parade-ground halt and handing the captain a datapad. 'I'm afraid you're not going to like it.'

'Really,' Nalgol said, giving Oissan a long, hard look as he took the datapad. Given the Tyrannic's blindness out here, it was unarguably nice to receive these brief reports from the Imperial Intelligence strike team on the Bothawui surface. But on the other hand, any secret transmission, even an innocuous one sent to an unobtrusive relay buoy, simply gave the enemy one more handle to latch on to.

And for that potentially dangerous transmission to contain bad news...

The message was, as always, brief. Now ten days to completion of flash point. Will keep timetable updated.

'Ten days?' Nalgol transferred his glare from the datapad to Oissan. 'What is this ten days nonsense? The report two days ago said it would only be six days.'

'I don't know, sir,' Oissan said. 'All messages to us have to be kept short—'

'Yes, I know,' Nalgol cut him off, glowering at the datapad again. Ten more days in this clytarded blindness. Just exactly what the crew of this twitchy ship needed. 'They just blazing well better be keeping Bastion better informed than they are us.'

'I'm sure they are, Captain,' Oissan said. 'Paradoxically, perhaps, it's much safer to send out a long transmission on a commercial frequency via the HoloNet than it is to send a short-range spark to us out here.'

'I'm fairly well versed in communications theory, thank you,' Nalgol said icily. A prudent man, he reflected darkly, would have found a way to beat a hasty retreat after delivering news like this. Either Oissan wasn't as prudent as Nalgol had always assumed, or he was twitchy enough himself to be spoiling for a fight with his captain.

Or else this was part of a private evaluation of his captain's mental state. And much as he would like to deny it, Nalgol had to admit this idleness and isolation were getting on his nerves, too. 'I was simply concerned that the delay not upset Bastion's master plan,' he told the other, forcing calmness into his voice. 'I also wish I knew how in blazes they could lose six whole days out of a two-month timetable.'

Oissan shrugged. 'Without knowing what exactly their job is down there, I can't even hazard a guess,' he said reasonably. 'As it is, we'll just have to rely on their judgment.' He lifted his eyebrows slightly. 'And on Grand Admiral Thrawn's own genius, of course.'

'Of course,' Nalgol murmured. 'The question is whether all those armed hotheads around Bothawui will be able to hold off another ten days before they start shooting. What's the warship count up to, anyway?'

'The latest probe ship report is in that file, sir,' Oissan said, nodding toward the datapad. 'But I believe the current number is one hundred twelve.'

'A hundred and twelve?' Nalgol echoed, frowning as he pulled up the report. There it was: a hundred and twelve. 'This can't be right,' he insisted.

'It is, sir,' Oissan assured him. 'Thirty-one new warships have come in, apparently all in the past ten hours.'

Nalgol scanned the list. A nicely matched set, too: fourteen pro-Bothan Diamalan and D'farian ships to seventeen anti-Bothan Ishori ships. 'This is unbelievable,' he said, shaking his head. 'Don't these aliens have anything better to do?'

Oissan snorted under his breath. 'From the news reports the probe ships have been bringing in, it's only because most of the New Republic does have better things to do that we haven't been buried by three times as many ships,' he said. 'But don't worry. I have faith in the New Republic's diplomatic corps. I'm sure they'll keep things calm until we're ready to move.'

'I hope so,' Nalgol said softly, turning to gaze out at the blackness again. Because after all this waiting, if he didn't get a clear shot at this alien-loving Rebel scum, he was going to be very angry. Very angry, indeed.

* * *

The annoyingly cheery door chime of the Exoticalia Pet Emporium rang, and Navett stepped in through the back- room doorway to see Klif close the door behind him. 'Business is booming, I see,' he commented, glancing around the customer-free store as he walked between the rows of caged animals to the service counter.