Timothy Zahn: Outbound Flight

The shimmering hyperspace sky flowed past the Dreadnaught’s canopy as Outbound Flight drove onward into the unknown. Lorana knew the sky was there, but had no time to actually focus on the sight. Every bit of her attention was tied up with D-1’s systems as she used the Force to both sense the equipment status and keep the controls in proper adjustment.

It was hard work. It was hideously hard work.

Vaguely, she felt a whisper of movement at her side.

“Lorana?” Thrass asked, his voice distant in her overstretched consciousness.

“Did you get to them?” she asked. The moment ofdistraction was too much; even as she finished her question one of the reactor feeds began to surge. Clamping down hard on her lower lip, she stretched out and cased the flow back to its proper level.

“I’m sorry,” Thrass said. “I can’t even find a way off this ship. All the pylon turbolift tunnels are blocked to one degree or another. Perhaps if you brought us out of hyperspace I could find a vac suit and make my way across to the core that way.”

“No,” Lorana said. The word came out tartly and impolitely, she suspected, but she didn’t have the concentration to spare for courtesy. “Hyperdrive not good.”

In point of fact, the hyperdrive was very much not good. It was running blazingly hot, and it was all she could do to keep the circuits from looping and ripping the thing completely out of her control. If she shut it down now, there was every chance it would never start up again. Even if she didn’t, it would probably eventually collapse on its own.

On the other hand, with the extra speed the runaway had given them, the edge of the cluster was now only a few standard hours away. If she could continue to fly the ship and use the Jedi navigation techniques at the same time to get them safely between the tightly packed stars, they had a good chance of reaching one of Thrass’s target systems before that happened.

“I understand,” Thrass said. “I’ll keep trying to find a communication line that’ll get me through to them.”

He moved away, and Lorana felt a pang of guilt. If the survivors were still waiting down there like she’d told them to, they would certainly be wondering where she was. They might even conclude that she’d run off and abandoned them.

Across the bridge, a flashing red light warned that the alluvial dampers were drifting. Frowning in concentration, trying to maintain her Force grip on all the myriad other controls she was simultaneously juggling, she reached out a hand and carefully adjusted the dampers back into proper alignment.

Once they reached their destination and she could finally let the systems ease down to standby, she and Thrass could make their way back to Uliar and the rest and explain what had happened.

And they would understand. Surely they would understand.

At the other side of the bridge, another red light was flashing. Taking a deep breath, wondering how long she’d be able to keep this up, she stretched out with the Force.

“You will pay for this,” Chaf’orm’bintrano ground out, pacing back and forth across the conference room in front of the three prisoners standing silently in front of him. There was a cushioned chair behind the narrow desk, but he was apparently too angry even to sit down. “You hear me? You will pay.” He leveled his glare first at Doriana, then at Car’das, and finally at Thrawn. “And the charge will be high treason.”

Standing behind the desk, well out of the way of the Aristocra’s pacing, Admiral Ar’alani stirred. “I don’t think such a charge will hold, Aristocra,” she said. Her expression, Car’das noted, had maintained a careful neutrality as she listened to Chaf’orm’bintrano’s rantings. Still, he thought he could detect a certain relief behind the aloofness.

Small wonder. She’d gotten what she wanted: Outbound Flight was safely out of Chaf’orm’bintrano’s grasping hands. What happened to a couple of prisoners was probably a matter of complete indifference to her.

Or at least, what happened to the two non-Chiss prisoners. “You don’t think the charge will hold?”

Chaf’orm’bintrano snapped, shifting his glare to her.

Ar’alani stood her ground. “No, I don’t,” she said.

“Car’das has already stated that Syndic Mitth’ras’safis and the human Lorana Jinzler were the perpetrators.”

“With his assistance and advice.”

“Advice alone is only lesser treason,” Ar’alani said.

“And as a non-Chiss, he can’t be charged with any level of treason anyway. As for Doriana, he clearly had nothing to do with it.”

“What are they going on about now?” Doriana murmured in Car’das’s ear.

“The Aristocra wants to roast us over a low fire,”

Car’das murmured back. “The admiral is suggesting he needs to rethink his charges.”

“Ah.”

The byplay hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Do the prisoners wish to add to the proceedings?” Chaf’orm’bintrano asked acidly.

“Actually, the prisoners will go free,” Thrawn said, the first words he’d spoken since they’d all been herded into the conference room where Chaf’orm’bintrano could threaten them in private. “They’ve done nothing with which they can be charged. If you wish to blame someone, blame me.”

“I fully intend to,” Chaf’orm’bintrano bit out. “After I’ve dealt with your accomplices.”

“They’re not my accomplices,” Thrawn said calmly.

“Furthermore, they’re my prisoners, and as such fall under the legal authority of the Chiss Expansionary Fleet.” He lifted his eyebrows. “As do I, for that matter.”

“Not anymore,” Chaf’orm’bintrano said. “For the crime of unprovoked attack against sentient beings, I hereby revoke your military position.”

“Just a moment, Aristocra,” Ar’alani said, taking a step forward. “You can’t revoke his position for a crime for which he has yet to be convicted.”

“I suggest you reread the law, Admiral,”

Chaf’orm’bintrano said tartly. “Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo has pushed the limits for the last time—and this time we have proof, scattered across the system before us.”

“The Vagaari were an imminent threat to the Ascendancy,” Thrawn said. “And this system is within Chiss space.”

“But this time you forgot to let your victim fire first,”

Chaf’orm’bintrano said, an edge of triumph in his voice. “Don’t deny it—I have the records from your own vessels.”

“The Vagaari made threats against both us and Outbound Flight,” Thrawn said. “I claim that such threats, backed up by their obvious firepower, were sufficient provocation for Chiss action.”

“You can claim anything you wish,” Chaf’orm’bintrano said. “But the burden of proof is now on you, not me.” He looked at Ar’alani. “And until his trial takes place, I can and will revoke both his position and the military protection you so clearly hope to shelter him beneath.”

Ar’alani didn’t answer. For a moment Chaf’orm’bintrano continued to stare at her, then turned back to Thrawn. “And your fellow prisoners will likewise be taken to trial,” he said. “These, along with the other two you have back at Crustai.” He paused. “Unless, of course, you have enough concern for their well-being to make a bargain.”

Thrawn looked at Car’das and Doriana. “Such as?”

“You will resign your position, completely and permanently,” Chaf’orm’bintrano said. “You will likewise renounce your status as Trial-born of the Eighth Family and disappear back into the great mass of Chiss citizenry, never again to rise to a position where you may threaten law or custom.”

“You ask my entire life for the trade of a few alien prisoners,” Thrawn pointed out calmly. “Are you certain you’re willing to live with the consequences?”