Vision of the future

'Yes, sir,' Mavron said, nodding. 'But according to the report—'

'I watched him die!' Pellaeon thundered.

The sudden outburst surprised even him. It certainly startled Ardiff and Mavron. 'Yes, sir, we know,' Ardiff said. 'Obviously, it's some kind of trick. Lieutenant, I imagine the rest can wait until you file your complete report. Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up.'

'Thank you, sir,' Mavron said, clearly glad to be given the opportunity to escape. 'I'll have my report filed within an hour.'

'Very good.' Ardiff nodded. 'Dismissed.'

He waited until Mavron had gone and the door was once again closed before speaking. 'It is a trick, Admiral,' he said to Pellaeon. 'It has to be.'

With an effort, Pellaeon pulled his thoughts back from the memories of that awful day at Bilbringi. The day the Empire had finally and irrevocably died. 'Yes,' he murmured. 'But what if it's not? What if Thrawn really is still alive?'

'Why, in that case...' Ardiff trailed off, his forehead wrinkled in sudden uncertainty.

'Exactly,' Pellaeon said, nodding. 'The time when Thrawn's tactical genius could have done us any good was— when? Five years ago? Seven? Ten? What could he possibly do now except bring the New Republic down on us in panic?'

'I don't know, sir.' Ardiff paused. 'But that's not what's really bothering you.' Pellaeon looked down at his hands. Old hands, gnarled with age and darkened by the sunlight of a thousand worlds. 'I was with Thrawn for just over a year,' he told Ardiff. 'I was his senior fleet officer, his student'—he hesitated—'perhaps even his confidant. I'm not sure. The point is that he chose the Chimaera and me when he returned from the Unknown Regions. He didn't just pick us at random; he chose us.'

'No, there wasn't much Thrawn did at random,' Ardiff agreed. 'From which it follows that if he's back...?'

'That he's chosen someone else,' Pellaeon finished the other's sentence, the words a sharp ache in his heart. 'And there can be only a very few reasons why he would do that.'

'It can't be position,' Ardiff said firmly. 'You are Supreme Commander, after all. And it certainly can't be competence. What's left?'

'Vision, perhaps,' Pellaeon suggested, tapping the datapad gently with a fingertip. 'This peace proposal was my idea, you know. I came up with it, I argued for it, and I crammed it down the Moffs'

throats. Moff Disra was one of those who loudly and strongly opposed it. Moff Disra of Bastion. Coincidence?'

For a moment Ardiff was silent. 'All right,' he said. 'Even if we grant all that—which I don't, by the way—why send a pirate or mercenary group out here to attack us? Why not simply come here and tell you directly that the treaty idea is off?'

'I don't know,' Pellaeon said. 'Perhaps it isn't off. Perhaps this is exactly where Thrawn wants me to be. Either preparing to talk to Bel Iblis, for whatever reason, or else—' He pursed his lips. 'Or else simply out of his way. Where I can't interfere with whatever he's planning.'

The silence this time stretched out painfully. 'I don't believe he would do that to you, sir,' Ardiff said at last. But the words carried no genuine conviction that Pellaeon could hear. 'Not after all you went through together.'

'You don't believe that any more than I do,' Pellaeon said quietly. 'Thrawn wasn't human, you know, no matter how human he might have looked. He was an alien, with alien thoughts and purposes and agendas. Perhaps I was never more to him than just one more tool he could use in reaching his goal. Whatever that goal was.'

Almost hesitantly, Ardiff reached over and touched Pellaeon's arm. 'It's been a long road, sir,' he said. 'Long and hard and discouraging. For all of us, but mostly for you. If there's anything I can do...' Pellaeon forced a smile. 'Thank you, Captain. Don't worry; I'm not going to give up. Not until I've seen this through.'

'We're staying here, then?' Ardiff asked.

'For a few more days,' Pellaeon said. 'I want to give Bel Iblis every possible chance.'

'And if he doesn't show?'

'Whether he does or not, we'll be going to Bastion next,' Pellaeon said, hearing a touch of grimness in his voice. 'For this and other matters, Moff Disra has some explaining to do.'

'Yes, sir,' Ardiff said, standing up. 'We'll hope that this whole Thrawn appearance is just some trick of his.'