'Don't worry,' Tierce said, following Disra's glare. 'He'll get over it soon enough.'
'Or else he'll soon find himself impaled on a sharp pole somewhere out in Unknown Space,' Flim growled without turning around. 'Right next to the two of you.' Disra looked up at Tierce. 'What's his problem?'
'Nothing serious,' Tierce said, dismissing the con man with a wave of his hand. 'He's worried about that alien ship, that's all.'
'Ah,' Disra said, smiling tightly. Yes—the mysterious alien ship which that sleeper cell pilot had spotted and made a recording of off Pakrik Minor. 'What's the status on that, anyway?'
'The analysts should be finished anytime,' Tierce assured him. 'I have a feeling this may be it, Your Excellency.'
Disra felt a shiver ripple up his back. 'You really think that was the Hand of Thrawn in that ship?'
'You saw the design,' Tierce pointed out. 'Part TIE fighter, part something else. Yes, I think that's the Hand, or else his agent, or else someone from Captain Parck. Whichever, I think we may finally have lured our target into the open.'
Flim made a rumbling noise in the back of his throat. 'Like you might lure out a Death Star,' he muttered.
'You're overdoing the melodrama just a bit, Admiral,' Tierce said, his patience starting to sound a little strained. 'Whoever they are, there are a dozen ways we can keep them from getting close enough to figure out you're a fraud.'
'And what if they want to say hello?' Flim countered. 'What are you going to say then? That I've got laryngitis? That I just stepped out for a week?'
'Hold it, both of you,' Disra cut them off as the comm light on his desk began to blink. 'This may be it.'
He keyed the comm. 'Moff Disra,' he said.
The man on the display was middle-aged, with the slightly nearsighted look of someone who has spent long years staring at a computer display. 'Colonel Uday, Your Excellency: Imperial Intelligence Analysis. I have the final report on that record you sent me.'
'Excellent,' Disra said. 'Send it immediately.'
'Yes, sir,' Uday said, glancing down and working keys off-camera. Another light on Disra's display winked on and then off again, marking the transfer. 'I'm afraid there wasn't much we could get on the ship itself,' Uday continued. 'But what there was is in there.'
'Thank you,' Disra said, trying not to sound too impatient. The sooner he could cut off this garrulous fool, the sooner he and Tierce could start going over the report line by line. 'You'll be receiving a commendation for your quick work.'
'Two points, first, if I may, Your Excellency,' Uday said, holding up two fingers.
'I'm sure it's all in your report,' Disra said, reaching for the off switch. 'Thank you—'
'According to the note that accompanied the file, the sighting was made by a TIE fighter off Pakrik Minor,' Uday said. 'That turns out not to be the case.' Disra froze, finger poised over the switch. 'Explain.'
'The file is actually a compilation of two separate sightings,' Uday said. 'One was made in the Kauron system, we think, the other either in the Nosken or Drompani systems. Neither was made by a TIE fighter, either.'
Disra threw a hard look at Tierce. The Royal Guardsman's face had turned to stone. 'How do you know?' he demanded.
'That they didn't come from TIE fighters?' Uday asked. 'The sensor profiles are all wrong. I'd guess an X-wing or A-wing for the first one, some kind of well-equipped warship for the second. Not a New Republic ship—the verification signature is wrong for that.' The colonel shrugged. 'As to where they were made, that's easily pulled from the background star patterns.' Disra took a careful breath. 'Thank you, Colonel,' he said. 'You've been most helpful. As I said, a commendation will be forthcoming.'
'Thank you, Your Excellency,' Uday said.
Disra stabbed the comm switch, and the colonel's face vanished. 'Well,' the Moff said, looking at Tierce again. 'It seems we've been lied to.'
'It does indeed,' Tierce said, his voice soft, his expression gone suddenly deadly. 'I think, Your Excellency, that we have been betrayed.'
