FicWad

The starlines clear away, and a small and distant red sun instantly appears in the Darkvenge's bridge viewports. "So?" Kav growls, plainly unimpressed.

"Patience, Vicelord," Doriana advises, watching the blue-skinned alien standing beside the helm peering at the small device in his hand. Mitth'raw'nuruodo had left the technician behind to guide them to the location the Chiss commander had specified they were to take the remainder of their task force to. A moment later the tech gives a small nod and murmurs a few words to the silvery TC-18 translator droid at his side.

"He says, 'We're here,' Vicelord Kav," the droid promptly reports in its melodic voice.

Kav merely sniffs. "Wherever here is."

"Here is wherever Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo wants us to be," Doriana replies, not bothering to conceal his disgust with the other. Kav has had plenty of time to come to grips with his task force's destruction, but unfortunately persists in being just as angry and irritable as ever. And Doriana is worried that the uncooperative Neimoidian will manage to get the rest of them killed if he doesn't learn to watch his tongue and his temper.

"Then where is he?" Kav only irritably demands.

"Two incoming vessels," the Neimoidian at the sensors calls out before Doriana can even open his mouth to reply. "One Chiss cruiser, one smaller vessel."

The Chiss tech speaks again in the Sy Bisti trade language. "'They are the Springhawk and a long-range shuttle,'" the TC droid primly announces. "'Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo will wish to board immediately.'"

"Tell the Commander his usual docking port has been prepared for him," Doriana quickly replies, before Kav can say (or do) anything else. Less than ten minutes later, Mitth'raw'nuruodo is striding confidently through the blast doors onto the bridge, a pair of Chiss warriors trailing behind him. Relieved to see that Car'das is not with Mitth'raw'nuruodo this time (the Corellian may be young, but there is an intensity about him that discomfits Doriana immensely. And the boy's obvious sense of loyalty to the Chiss Commander is a problem that he would rather not have to deal with), Doriana immediately rises from the couch and (since the Commander seems to value good manners) announces a carefully polite greeting. "Welcome aboard, Commander."

"Thank you," Mitth'raw'nuruodo replies, his eyes flicking only briefly to Kav's stiff face and posture. "I appreciate your swift compliance with my instructions."

"As I told you earlier, we wish to be fully cooperative," Doriana reminds him, deliberately pitching his voice so that it is as calm and soothing as possible.

"Excellent," Mitth'raw'nuruodo merely notes, nodding once. "I wish you to begin unloading your droid starfighters."

Kav jerks as if he's been kicked. "What do you say?" he breathes, his eyes bugging out even more than usual.

"Your droid starfighters are to be transported to that asteroid." Mitth'raw'nuruodo points out the viewports at a small, irregularly shaped crescent of faint light against the stars. "After that, I will require the services of those who program their combat movements."

Kav gurgles under his breath, and for once Doriana can sympathize with him. The main strength of a Trade Federation battleship lies with its starfighters, the retrofitted quad laser batteries along the split-ring midline more of an afterthought than serious defensive armament. Removing its starfighters would leave the Darkvenge as helpless as the freighter it had once been. "This is outrageous!" the Neimoidian finally protests. "I will not consent to - "

"Be silent," Doriana cuts in, his gaze locked on Mitth'raw'nuruodo. Either he wants the Darkvenge to be helpless, or - "You have a plan for dealing with /Outbound Flight/, don't you?" he finally breathes, barely daring to hope but unable to think of another plausible explanation.

"I have a plan," Mitth'raw'nuruodo merely quietly confirms. "Whether or not I activate it depends on whether or not you're ready to tell me the truth."

An uncomfortable lump forms in Doriana's throat at that. "Explain, please."

"Your name is not Stratis," Mitth'raw'nuruodo replies, serene in his certainty. "You're not your own master, but answer to another. And the social threat posed by these Jedi is not the true reason you seek Outbound Flight's destruction." He lifts his dark eyebrows then, the gesture not quite mocking, though it is certainly meant to imply more than simple curiosity. "If, indeed, you genuinely do seek its destruction."

"What other reason would we have to be here?" Doriana has to force himself to ask through a suddenly panic-parched throat, a small tremor of fear beginning to take hold at the extremities of his body.

"Perhaps your intent was to rendezvous with them," Mitth'raw'nuruodo suggests, one dark brow winging upwards again. "If Outbound Flight is filled with warriors instead of colonists, together your combined forces would have had both the firepower and the personnel necessary to launch an effective bridgehead invasion."

Doriana can feel bile wanting to rise to the back of his throat. Forcing his voice to remain even, he points out, "I've already told you we're not here for conquest."

"I know what you told me," Mitth'raw'nuruodo acknowledges, his face quite suddenly becoming entirely expressionless. "Now you must persuade me to believe it."

"Of course," Doriana chokes out, thoughts racing in frantic circles. This will be risky, he knows, but he's suspected from the beginning that Mitth'raw'nuruodo would eventually come to this conclusion. And now that he has, Doriana really has no other options left. He has to give the Chiss Commander the rest of the truth, or risk having his conclude that they are liars and a threat to his people who should be summarily executed. Or worse yet, sent back to the Republic with a diplomatic envoy of some kind. No. He truly has no other options, now. If he wishes to succeed in his mission and so avoid giving Lord Sidious a reason to want to kill him, he must take the chance now, while the opening is present. "I believe I can answer all of your questions together. If you'll come with me, I'd like to introduce you to my superior." Deliberately, he looks over at Kav. "You, Vicelord, will remain here."

Though his hands are both trembling and damp with nervous sweat now, he doesn't wait for Kav's inevitable protest. Instead, he starts off across the bridge, leading Mitth'raw'nuruodo back to the office where they'd first conferred two days earlier. Briskly, he ushers the Chiss inside and seals the door, noting with no real surprise that Mitth'raw'nuruodo has also left his warrior escort behind. The Commander is supremely confident in his abilities, and has clearly deduced that Doriana himself is no threat to him.

Not yet, at least.

Thankfully, Doriana's special holoprojector is already hooked into the Darkvenge's comm system (he's not sure he could connect the two now without fumbling and betraying his fear). Concentrating on stilling the shaking of his hands, he punches in the access code with one hand and gestures towards the desk chair with the other. "Your first point is absolutely correct," he begins, mentally crossing his fingers that the battleship's huge transmitter will be able to punch a signal back to the Republic's HoloNet system. "My true name is Kinman Doriana, an identity I've taken care to keep secret from Vicelord Kav's crew and other associates."

"You play mutually opposing roles, then?"

Doriana can only stare at him, utterly flabbergasted. "How did you know that?"

"It was obvious," is Mitth'raw'nuruodo's less than informative response. "Who are your two masters?"

"My official, public master is Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, the head of the Republic government," Doriana replies, the words echoing strangely in his ears. He hardly dares to even think such things in the privacy of his own mind. To be saying them aloud, and to an unknown alien, is virtually unthinkable. "My true Master is a Sith Lord named Darth Sidious."

A dark brow goes up again, the gesture feeling slightly more leading than questioning to Doriana this time, though he is feeling so lightheaded that he cannot be certain he is reading the Commander correctly. "And a Sith Lord is . . . ?"

"A being who stands against the Jedi and their control over the Republic," Doriana promptly replies, explaining.

"Ah," Mitth'raw'nuruodo breathes, a faint, satisfied smile touching the corners of his mouth. "A power struggle."

"In a way," Doriana concedes with a slight frown. "But on a plane far different from the one where beings like you and I exist. What's important right now is that Lord Sidious has access to information sources that the Jedi don't have."

"And what do these sources tell him?"

Doriana braces himself, both mentally and physically. This next part is a bit of a stickler, but if he can just get Mitth'raw'nuruodo to at least concede the possibility, then he should be able to pull this off. "There's an invasion coming," he replies. "A massive assault force of dark ships, shadowy figures, and weapons of great power, based on organic technology of a sort we've never seen before. We believe these Far Outsiders, as we call them, already have a foothold at the far edge of the galaxy, and even now have scouting parties seeking information on worlds and peoples to conquer."

"Stories of mysterious invaders are both convenient and difficult to disprove," Mitth'raw'nuruodo merely calmly points out. "Why do you only now tell me this?"

Doriana nods in the direction of the door. "Because Vicelord Kav and his associates don't know," he immediately admits. "Neither does anyone else in the Republic. Not yet."

"When will Darth Sidious tell them?"

"When he's turned the Republic's chaos into order," Doriana explains, slightly reassured by the question. "When we've built an army and a fleet capable of dealing with the threat. To announce it before then would do nothing but create panic and leave us open to disaster."

"How does Outbound Flight fit into all this?"

"As I said, we believe the Far Outsiders are currently still gathering information," Doriana replies. "So far, there's no indication that they even know about the Republic." He feels his throat tighten. "Actually, that's not entirely true," he corrects himself reluctantly. "One of the Jedi, a being named Vergere, disappeared in that region some time ago. That's one of Outbound Flight's private agendas, in fact: to try to learn what happened to her."

"I see," Mitth'raw'nuruodo muses thoughtfully, nodding slowly. "And while a single prisoner can give only hints of his or her origin, an entire shipful of them can provide all that would be needed for a successful invasion."

"Exactly!" Doriana replies, feeling hope suddenly surge within him. "Not to mention all the data files and technology they would be able to examine. If Outbound Flight blunders into their bridgehead, we could find ourselves facing an attack long before we're ready."

"And the Jedi do not understand this?"

"The Jedi think of themselves as the masters of the galaxy," is Doriana's bitter response. "Especially the chief Jedi Master aboard /Outbound Flight/, Jorus C'baoth. Even if he knew about the Far Outsiders, I doubt it would make any difference to him."

Above the holoprojector, a familiar hooded figure shimmers into view. The hologram is a bit more ragged than usual, Doriana notes, but the connection itself seems much more solid than he's feared it would be. Sidious is evidently somewhere much closer than his usual haunts on Coruscant. "Report," the Sith Lord orders. Then his unseen eyes seem to catch sight of Mitth'raw'nuruodo, and the already drooping corners of his mouth droop a little farther. "Who is this?" he demands, voice deepening with menace.

"This is Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet, Lord Sidious," Doriana instantly replies, stepping behind Mitth'raw'nuruodo where he will be in view. "I'm afraid we've had a slight setback in our mission."

"I don't wish to hear about setbacks, Master Doriana," the Sith Lord says, his gravelly voice taking on an angry edge.

"Yes, my lord," Doriana acquiesces, trying to stay calm. Even hundreds of light-years away, he can practically feel Sidious' Force grip resting against his throat. "Let me explain."

He then swiftly gives Sidious a summary of the rather one-sided battle with the Chiss. Somewhere during the explanation, Sidious' face turns from staring at him to staring at Mitth'raw'nuruodo. "Impressive," he admits when Doriana has finished. "And only one of your ships survives?"

Doriana immediately nods, despite his lingering bitterness over the defeat. "And only because Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo chose to leave it intact."

"Most impressive," Sidious allows, his black-cowled figure leaning a fraction closer to signify his interest. "Tell me, Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo, are you typical of your species?"

"I have no way of answering that question, Lord Sidious," Mitth'raw'nuruodo calmly replies. "I can only point out that I'm the youngest of my people to ever hold the position of Force Commander."

"I can see why," Sidious replies, a slight smile finally lightening some of his brooding darkness. "I take it from your presence here that Doriana has explained the need to stop Outbound Flight before it passes beyond our territory?"

"He has," Mitth'raw'nuruodo confirms. "Have you proof of this impending alien threat?"

"I have reports," Sidious promptly replies. If he is insulted that Mitth'raw'nuruodo would dare to question his word, then it doesn't show. "Doriana will detail them for you if you wish. Assuming you're convinced, what will be your response?"

Mitth'raw'nuruodo's gaze flicks towards Doriana. "Assuming I'm convinced, I'll agree to Doriana's request to intercept and stop /Outbound Flight/."

"Excellent," is Sidious' obviously pleased response. Then, the darkness around him becoming oppressive once more, he adds, "But be warned. The Jedi will not accept defeat lightly, and they have the power to reach across great distances to touch and manipulate the minds of others. You cannot allow them knowledge of your attack before it is launched."

"I understand," Mitth'raw'nuruodo acknowledges. "Tell me: does this ability to touch others' minds also work the opposite direction? If I, for example, am impressed enough with the need for them to return home, would my urgency influence their thoughts and decisions?"

"They will indeed sense your urgency," Sidious replies, the corners of his mouth once more drooping. "But don't expect them to act on it. Master C'baoth will not under any circumstances return to the Republic. To even offer him that possibility would rob you of your only chance for a surprise attack."

"Perhaps," Mitth'raw'nuruodo merely allows. "Though to those who can touch others' minds, the concept of surprise may be limited at best."

"Which is why Doriana proposed to use droid starfighters as the main thrust of his attack," Sidious instantly (and somewhat dryly) points out. "Still, with all power comes a corresponding weakness. Amid the clutter of the thousands of minds aboard /Outbound Flight/, even Jedi sensitivity will be blunted. And once those same thousands of people begin to die in battle - " his lips twitch " - that handicap will increase all the more."

"I understand," Mitth'raw'nuruodo repeats. "Thank you for your time, Lord Sidious."

"I look forward to hearing the report of your victory," Sidious graciously replies, inclining his head. He then sends a final warning look at Doriana before, with a flicker, the image is gone.

For a long moment Mitth'raw'nuruodo sits without speaking, his glowing eyes glittering with thought. "I'll need a full technical readout on Outbound Flight and its component Dreadnaughts," he finally announces. "I trust you have current information?"

"Up to and including even the final passenger listings," Doriana immediately assures him, the breath all but whooshing out of him with relief. "Now that you know about Jedi power against living gunners, shall I cancel your order to remove our droid starfighters?"

"Of course not," Mitth'raw'nuruodo replies, sounding mildly surprised. "And I'll expect the off-loading to he completed by the end of the day. I'll also need two of your droidekas and four of your battle droids to be packed and loaded aboard my long-range shuttle for transport to my base. I presume that six droids can be controlled by something more portable than this vessel's computer?"

"Yes, there are localized datapad systems that can handle up to two hundred droids each," Doriana informs him, suppressing a grimace. Kav is upset enough at him for simply handing over his starfighters for the Chiss to pick apart. He isn't going to be any happier about losing his combat droids. "I'll pack one in with the droidekas."

"Good," Mitth'raw'nuruodo merely absently nods, his gaze still slightly distant with thought. "I take it only the droidekas come with those built-in force shields?"

"Correct," Doriana agrees. "But if you're thinking about adapting the shields for use by your warriors, I'd advise against it. There's a fairly dense radiation quotient involved, plus high-twist magnetic fields that turn out to be fairly nasty for living beings."

"Thank you for your concern," is Mitth'raw'nuruodo's exquisitely polite response, his head inclining slightly. "As it happens, we're somewhat familiar with such devices, though they were generally used with reversed polarity."

"Reversed polarity?" Doriana frowns, not understanding. "You mean with the deflection field facing inward?"

"They were used as intruder traps," Mitth'raw'nuruodo explains, making a very small gesture with his hand, the palm turning slightly upwards. "Many an unwary robber incinerated himself as he tried to shoot a guard or homeowner from the inside."

Doriana winces in understanding. "Ah."

"But as you say, they proved too dangerous to bystanders and innocents who were accidentally caught," the Commander continues, making that small gesture with his right hand again, this time somehow managing to convey the sense of a shrug. "Their use was discontinued many decades ago." Apparently finished with Doriana for the moment, the Chiss Commander then abruptly stands up. "I must leave now. I'll return later to confirm that my orders have been carried out," he announces, before striding purposefully but unhurriedly out of the room.

***

"Fourteen vessels," Admiral Ar'alani finally declares with clinical detachment, her glowing eyes sweeping with careful precision across the field of debris stretching out before them. "Possibly thirteen, if the two sections of wreckage to the right belonged to a single vessel that broke apart before exploding."

"Is that the correct number, Car'das?" Thrass asks.

"Yes, that's sounds about right," Car'das agrees, his muscles wilting a little with relief. The fifteenth ship, the intact Trade Federation battleship, is nowhere to be seen. He just hopes that it's Thrawn who's moved it and that it hasn't managed to skip out on its own. "Of course, I was just an observer," he then reminds them. "I didn't have access to the sensor information."

"There was also a considerable number of those," Ar'alani notes, pointing at the charred sections of two droid starfighters floating past the bridge canopy. "Too small to be staffed."

"They're mechanical devices called droids," Car'das explains. "These in particular are called droid starfighters."

Thrass raises an eyebrow, his head tilting to the side for a moment, thoughtfully, before he finally grunts dismissively. "If the field of battle is any indication of their combat abilities, I would say they're misnamed."

"Don't be misled by your brother's skill at warfare, Syndic Mitth'ras'safis," is Ar'alani's immediate and openly chiding response. "If these droids were as useless as you imply, no one would take the time and effort to build them."

"I've seen reports of them in combat," Car'das offers, confirming Ar'alani's words. "Against most opponents, they're quite formidable."

"Yet, I still see no evidence that these weapons or their masters attacked first," Ar'alani only goes on to point out, ignoring both the confirmation of her posit and the clear threat that such a force would have posed.

"I can only repeat what I said earlier, Admiral," Car'das tells her, trying hard to keep both his anger at her coldness towards Thrawn and her conveniently turned blind eye towards the very real threat of the Trade Federation force out of his voice. "The mere act of launching the starfighters was an overt act of aggression. Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo responded in the only way he could to protect his forces."

"Perhaps," Ar'alani allows. "That will be for a military tribunal to decide."

Car'das can feel his stomach tightening with anger and dread. He desperately wants to yell at the woman about her stupidity and see if that will break her icy calm, but he has a sinking sensation that it will only convince her that humans are unstable and irrationally emotional creatures. So instead he demands, his voice emerging as a low growl through tightly clenched teeth, "You're bringing him up on charges?"

"That will also be for the tribunal to decide," Thrass replies, his explanation calming Car'das down slightly, as it would seem to contract his own association of the words 'military tribunal' with both the issuing of charges and a trial on those charges. "But we'll first need to examine the records of the battle and interview the warriors who were present."

"At this battle as well as the earlier raid against the Vagaari," Ar'alani adds.

"I understand," Car'das declares, his heart starting to beat a little faster as he nods his understanding. Here, at last, is the opening he's been looking for. "Speaking of the Vagaari, my colleagues and I were hoping we could settle the question soon about the treasure we were promised, so that the Bargain Hunter can be on its way."

Ar'alani's finely arched eyebrows/ both/ rise high at that. "Now, suddenly, you're in a hurry to return home?"

Another deep breath, and then Car'das takes the plunge. "With all due respect, Admiral, no, I'm not - not personally. If it would be possible, I would actually like to request permission to remain here, at least until the situation with the Vagaari has been resolved. I believe that the Vagaari represent a threat not only to the Chiss Ascendancy, but to the people of the Galactic Republic as well, and I would like to know one way or another, before I go anywhere, what, if anything, is going to be done about that threat. I'm just an extra crew member who was hired on less than a year ago on a temporary basis to help out on a few runs. I don't have a personal stake in the ship's operation and the Bargain Hunter can operate without me aboard to help navigate. But my companions are merchants by trade, and Captain Qennto and Maris Ferasi are partners. While I'm sure they regard this as an interesting and productive side trip, I also know that the cargo in the Bargain Hunter's hold is way overdue for delivery, and that they are and have been increasingly concerned about being able to return to the Republic and make good on their promise to deliver those items."

"A cargo that you would have us believe you have no stake in and ties to, though your companions would like very much like to supplement it with stolen pirate plunder," Ar'alani merely flatly replies, not seeming to notice that he has just requested permission to voluntarily remain behind in Chiss space while his companions are allowed to leave for home.

Unable to think of anything else to say, Car'das finally simply replies by reminding her, "Yes, but only because their customers will demand late-delivery penalties. They'll have no way of paying for those without the items that Captain Qennto has requested."

"They should have thought about that before deciding to stay," Thrass notes, though the blankness of his face and the wideness of his eyes indicates that he, at least, understands what it is that Car'das has asked permission for and is shocked by the request. "At any rate, the matter of the treasure will have to wait until the tribunal has made its decision. If my brother is found to have violated Chiss military doctrine, he'll have no standing to argue your side of the question."

"I understand," Car'das replies, voice heavy with disappointment. And indeed, he does understand. He understands that, despite their supposed inflexible code of honor and conduct, the lives of three humans (who are entirely innocent to the intrigues surrounding both the Vagaari and the sudden appearance of the Trade Federation force in Chiss space) mean absolutely nothing to either the good Admiral or the Syndic. That doesn't mean that he has to like it, though. Or even take it lying down. "How long is this hearing likely to take?" he finally asks, eyes narrowing, deliberately letting some of his disappointment and frustration with both them and the situation at large leak out into his voice.

"That depends on how quickly I can collect the details of the two battles," Ar'alani only off-handedly explains, making the same small hand gesture that Car'das has come to recognize from Thrawn is the Chiss equivalent of a nonchalant or dismissive shrug. "Once I've done so, I'll request that a tribunal be seated."

Weeks, in other words. Possibly even months. Frink! Car'das has to fight hard to resist the urge to shut his eyes. "And what will Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo's status be until then?"

"I'll be supervising his operations and overseeing all of his orders," Ar'alani declares in response, nodding fractionally at Thrass. "At Syndic Mitth'ras'safis' request."

Car'das looks at Thrass, a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. Once again, Thrawn's analysis has proved right on the mark. But while Thrawn had accepted his older brother's actions with quiet resignation and sorrow and not a little self-blame for supposedly putting Thrass in such an untenable position, Car'das feels no such compunction to simply accept the treachery as if it were completely understandable and move on. Unconstrained by whatever peculiar ideas of loyalty and dedication to peace that the Chiss espouse, he doesn't even try to stop himself from quietly demanding, "You'd do this to your own /brother/?" though he's fairly certain that he manages to keep most of the disgust and fury and though he's fairly certain that he at least manages to keep most of the disgust and fury and he's feeling out of his voice, the emotions confined behind his eyes.

The words apparently touch a nerve, as the muscles in Thrass's cheeks instantly and quite visibly tighten. Ar'alani, though, is the one who offers him an answer. "Neither I nor Syndic Mitth'ras'safis is unsympathetic towards Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo," she informs him, her expression softening a trifle though her voice remains just as calmly precise and even as ever. "We wish only to protect him from his own excesses of zeal and ability."

"From his excess of ability/?" Car'das can't help but snort disbelievingly at that. "/That's a new one," he adds, openly scoffing at them now.

"He's a gifted tactician and commander," Ar'alani replies, voice and manner turning frosty yet again. "But without proper restraint he'll eventually go too far and end his days in exile. What good will those gifts do anyone then?"

"And meanwhile, the Vagaari are free to destroy and kill?"

Ar'alani looks away at that. "The lives of other beings are not ours to interfere with, for good or for ill," she finally says. "We cannot and will not trust in whatever feelings of sympathy we might have for the victims of tyranny."

"Then trust in Mitth'raw'nuruodo," Car'das urges them, fighting to keep his voice calm though a part of him would like nothing better than to throw caution and tact both to the wind and name them the cold-hearted cowards that their actions (more specifically, the lack of their actions) are making them. "You both agree he's a gifted tactician; and he's convinced that the Vagaari are a threat you'll eventually have to face. The longer you wait - the more alien technology and weaponry you let them steal - the stronger they'll be."

"Then that is what we'll face," Thrass simply replies, voice and manner firm enough that Car'das can tell he will not be moved, and the realization that these two apparently otherwise quite intelligent beings are serious not only about waiting until the Vagaari actually openly act against the Chiss before they will do anything either to try to stop them or to try to warn others or help them against the Vagaari's incursions but also about putting Mitth'raw'nuruodo on trial for daring to take any sort of action against the Vagaari before their nomadic pirate fleets could commit an open act of war against the Chiss Ascendency finally succeeds in breaking something loose within him that has been on the verge of crumbling ever since Syndic Mitth'ras'safis and Admiral Ar'alani first came and reprimanded Thrawn for his actions against the Vagaari, some barrier that he hadn't even known was there, a wall placed between him and others to keep him from suffering over the hurts and losses of others, and with its shattering comes a flood of such righteous fury that, when he speaks, the two Chiss actually flinch back from him in surprise.

"Then you're both far greater fools than I would ever have imagined a species capable of producing someone as intelligent as Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo could ever be. You can't abdicate responsibility for the atrocities that the Vagaari commit while you knowingly sit by and do nothing about them. Life - all life, not just the lives of your own people - deserves respect and protection. I may not be as well-education or sophisticated as some, but for stars' sake even I know that much! The greatest crime any sentient being can commit is to withdraw from the living. Life is about involvement/; living, and not just existing, means participating in the lives of those who are around you, even if the ones nearby aren't exactly like you. You can't just sit back and observe and do nothing while others around you are suffering. You /can't do that and still claim to be good people. You can't even do it and still claim to be truly living! All you're doing then is existing, waiting for the blow that'll finally let your body catch up with your spirit and your heart and grow cold and dead. I don't know how you people can be as frinking smart as you are and still not know that, but I can't, in good conscience, just let it go without saying anything, as if it were all right! It's not all right. It's just about as far from all right as it can be, without you actually doing something to actively help the Vagaari in their persecution and conquest of other species. In letting them continue on the way that they are, you're acting as if their behavior is all right. And that means that /you are in essence complicit with their crimes/." Car'das is practically shaking with fury by the time he spits out that last accusation from between clenched teeth, and yet Thrass and Ar'alani simply look at him as though he's suddenly sprouted a second and insanely gibbering head. And their response offends him so deeply that he is literally seeing red when he declares, "Believe me when I tell you that I am saying this not just as a citizen of the Galactic Republic, but as a human being, too: your behavior disgusts me and I'll be damned if I can understand either it or your attitude towards Mitth'raw'nuruodo, who is, as far as I can tell, only trying to do the right thing and to protect the best interests of the Chiss Ascendency. I can't stop you from pursing this course of compliant noninterference with the Vagaari, any more than I can stop you from bringing charges against the Commander, but I want you both to know that I honestly believe you are making a mistake and that I think it won't just be you who ends up suffering because of it. And the majority of the sentient beings of the galaxy that I am familiar with would agree with me, were the question put to them!"

After several long moments of stunned silence in the wake of his furious announcement (in which Thrass surprises him by looking, for a few moments, as if he's at least slightly moved and perhaps even a little concerned by the contents of his outburst), Thrass and Ar'alani finally simply turn and look at each other. Whatever it is that passes between them, Thrass evidently ends up with the wrong end of the blaster, though, because when their little staring match is over he breathes out so heavily that it almost sounds like a sigh. His face is carefully blank, though, when he turns back to Car'das and coldly declares, "While I understand that your people have both the ability and the right to choose to follow different belief and/or behavioral systems than we Chiss collectively choose to espouse, as a Syndic of the Eighth Ruling Family, I must tell you that cannot listen to any more of this, Jorj Car'das of K'rell and the Galactic Republic." He then jabs a commanding finger towards the carnage outside the viewport. "You will henceforth please keep your opinions to yourself and describe this battle for us, factually and to the best of your abilities. /Now/."

***

After an extremely long and tiring day of work, the last group of droid starfighters are finally unloaded and deployed across the asteroid's uneven landscape. Afterwards, satisfied with a job well done, his growling stomach swiftly reminds Doriana of the lateness of the hour, and he makes his way to the Darkvenge's Supreme Officers' dining room to get something to eat. For once, there's nothing else on his mind but the meal he's looking forward to consuming. So he's a little bit disgruntled when he arrives to find that Kav is already there, seated alone at one of the corner tables, his sour expression daring anyone to interrupt him. He promptly takes the hint, though, and directs the serving droid to one of the tables on the opposite side of the room. The Vicelord has been in a thunderous mood all day, which is almost funny in a species as cowardly as the Neimoidians. But no one else aboard has dared to laugh and Doriana isn't about to try it, either. After all, sometimes even cowards can be pushed too far.

He is halfway through his dinner when Kav suddenly stands up and makes his way across the room. "This Mitthrawdo," he snaps out without preamble whatsoever as he plunks himself down in the chair across from Doriana. "You think him a genius, do you?"

"I consider him a highly effective military commander and tactician," Doriana replies after a few moments of surprised silence, warily eyeing the other and wondering where in the nine hells this sudden outburst is coming from - and, more importantly, where the Neimoidian thinks he's going to go with it. "His abilities at art or philosophy I can't vouch for."

"Amusing," Kav growls, not bothering to hide his scowl. Then, with a suddenness that is alarming, the scowl turns to a smirk as the Neimoidian declares, "But he is not even a good tactician. He is, instead, a fool." Pulling a datapad from inside his robes, he drops it on the table in front of Doriana. "See the reprogramming he has ordered for my starfighters."

Though he doesn't want to, he knows Kav will never let him go until he looks, and so Doriana glances at the datapad's display, which is covered with droid-language symbolics. Then, flatly, he declares, "I don't read tech. How about giving it to me in plain Basic?"

Kav only snorts contemptuously in response before replying, with studied and patently false nonchalance, "He has programmed the starfighters for close-approach attacks."

Doriana immediately frowns back down at the datapad. "How close?"

"I believe the term is /hull skimming/," Kav announces, disdain practically dripping from every word, leaning forward to tap the display. "The chief programmer informs me the attack is set for no more than five meters above the hull."

Sighing, Doriana rubs thoughtfully at his cheek. He understands, tactically, that it makes good sense to cut in that close to an enemy's ships. It puts the attacker inside the defender's point-defense weaponry, as well as permitting the kind of targeting accuracy that makes for efficient destruction of vulnerable equipment and hull-plate connection lines. But the catch, of course, is that it's enormously difficult to get inside those point defenses in the first place. "I don't suppose anyone thought to mention to him that Dreadnaughts come with a very good point-defense system?" he asks, though he's fairly certain he knows what the answer will be.

"The programmers did not think it their place to speak out of turn," is Kav's prim and obviously self-satisfied response.

"And neither did you?" Doriana bites out, beginning to grow angry.

"I?" Kav merely feigns innocence at the question. "You, of all people, should know better than to question the orders of a military genius."

Doriana finds himself being forced to take yet another deep, calming breath, in order to keep himself from launching a vicious attack against the pigheaded Neimoidian. "Vicelord, I strongly suggest you remember our ultimate objective here. We've been sent to destroy /Outbound Flight/. Without Mitth'raw'nuruodo's aid, we have no chance of doing that."

"And yet a being of his genius is certainly capable of grasping technical readouts," Kav merely blandly replies. "Perhaps his plan is to throw our starfighters against Outbound Flight in an awesome display of disintegrating metal that will frighten Captain Pakmillu into submission."

Doriana lets his gaze harden then, utterly disgusted by the pathetic excuse for a military commander sitting across from him, so utterly wrapped in his own smug certainty of superiority that he is willing to risk their entire mission just for the chance to prove himself right. "So in the end all you care about is your pride," he notes, his hands surreptitiously knotting into furious fists in his lap. "You don't even care if Darth Sidious executes us both as long as you can find some small point where you can feel superior to Mitth'raw'nuruodo."

"Calm yourself," Kav merely replies with a disdainful roll of his eyes, apparently utterly unmoved by Doriana's anger, as he resettles himself comfortably in his chair. "There is no reason why my pride and my victory cannot coexist."

"Explain!" The snarled command is barely understandable, but Doriana does not trust himself to repeat it. And in any case, the Neimoidian seems to get the gist.

"I have not told Mitthrawdo of the flaw in his plan," the Vicelord replies with spiteful satisfaction. "But I /have /instructed the chief programmer to create a secondary attack pattern for the starfighters, which has been overlaid across Mitthrawdo's primary pattern. Once he has wasted the first wave in his foolish close-approach attack, I will take command and switch to a more effective line of attack."

Though his first instinct is to cut the Neimoidian into pieces and then stuff those pieces down the nearest garbage chute for daring to take such a measure without first consulting him, Doriana forces himself to take the time to think it over first. After all, that probably would work, and the apparent change in tactics would also likely confuse Captain Pakmillu, which might give them an added advantage in the battle against /Outbound Flight/. "It still loses us a full attack wave," he finally reminds Kav. "Not to mention the element of surprise."

"What surprise?" Kav only scoffs in return. "As soon as they see the Darkvenge they will know to prepare for droid starfighters."

Doriana has to press his fingertips together to keep himself from reaching out and striking the Vicelord. Surely even a Neimoidian can't be this dense. "I don't suppose it's occurred to you that Mitth'raw'nuruodo might have off-loaded the starfighters precisely because he doesn't intend to let Captain Pakmillu see the Darkvenge/?" he suggests after taking another deep, carefully calming breath. "That, in fact, he doesn't intend for the /Darkvenge to participate in the battle at all?"

Apparently, no, it hasn't occurred to Kav. "That is ridiculous," he protests, his already huge eyes widening even further. "No military commander would refuse to bring a battleship of our might into his fleet."

"Except maybe a commander who's already seen how easily they can be destroyed?" Doriana can't resist asking in return.

Kav's whole body stiffens at that. After several tense heartbeats, though, he finally simply notes, "I perceive that you have come under Mitthrawdo's spell, Commander," his voice surprisingly even as he avoids answering the question altogether. "But do not be swayed by his learned manner and cultured voice. He is still a primitive savage . . . and no matter what the outcome, he will have to die, in the end."

Doriana sighs again, at that. Unfortunately, he has already reached that same conclusion. Mitth'raw'nuruodo has come into contact with Car'das and his shipmates, and he might easily touch the edge of the Republic again. Until all the witnesses to Darth Sidious's betrayal of /Outbound Flight /have been silenced, their mission will not be complete. "Regardless, for the moment we still need him alive," he finally points out. "How have you arranged for us to reach this second programming level?"

"I will have a relay control," is Kav's careless response. "Once Mitthrawdo's failure is apparent, I will bring the starfighters back under my control, and will complete our mission." He cocks his head questioningly to the side. "Unless you have further objections?"

Doriana shakes his head, though a part of him wants to object, if for no other reason than to anger Kav. "Though we'll have to make sure we're on his bridge when the battle begins."

"I leave that to you," Kav airily replies, waving one long-fingered hand dismissively. "He is a fool in other areas, as well. Did you know he has taken twenty of my starfighters and linked them together by twos with a spare fuel tank between them?"

Doriana doesn't want to give Kav the satisfaction, but he can't keep himself from asking, with a confused frown, "What good does that do? Those starfighters run on solid-fuel slugs."

"I imagine he was inspired by Outbound Flight's design," is Kav's unabashedly contemptuous response. With a malicious snort, he then adds, "He is probably regretful that his tanks are too small to fit six starfighters around each."

"You're sure they're /fuel /tanks?"

"What else could they be?" Kav counters with a shrug, getting back to his feet. "A pleasant evening to you, Commander."

The Neimoidian walks away then, just as suddenly as he had arrived, and Doriana returns to his meal after a few moments. Somehow, though, the food doesn't taste quite as good as it had only five minutes earlier . . .

***

Once they are back on the base, the human K'rell'n, Jorj Car'das, instantly stalks off, his posture so rigidly still that it lends him the illusion of vibrating slightly in place. The man could not make his disgust or affront plainer were he to explode into another one of his strange tirades. Admiral Ar'alani looks after him a moment, mouth tightening fractionally in displeasure, before returning her gaze to the documents in her hands. A growing sense of unease and the vaguest hint of an idea that he may have somehow just deliberately wronged and perhaps even offered insult to the young man keeps Syndic Mitth'ras'safis' gaze glued to the human's unnaturally rigid back as he strides purposefully and rapidly away from them. He has an entirely distressing notion that he and Ar'alani may be seriously underestimating Car'das or his Galactic Republic or both, and no clear idea what, if anything, can be done to rectify the situation. Thrass is not an unintelligent being, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he is well aware of the fact that his little brother is both much cleverer and naturally more resourceful than he or any other Chiss he has ever met or heard of. Even though he has been protecting his brother his entire life, Thrass quite suddenly finds himself wondering if he might not perhaps, just this once, be at utter cross-purposes with Mitth'raw'nuruodo. If Car'das is right and Mitth'raw'nuruodo is planning to do something about the Vagaari, and if he or Ar'alani were to accidentally disrupt those plans at a critical moment . . .

"You are thinking too much on what the boy said," Ar'alani abruptly declares, the flow of Cheunh after so many hours of speaking mostly in Minnisiat soothing, despite the clear warning contained in the actual words. "You must quiet your mind, Mitth'ras'safis. Our duty is clear, in this matter. We must protect our own . . . even if there are certain individuals who would seem to shun our protection."

"Admiral. With all respect, my brother obviously values that boy and his opinions a great deal," Thrass surprises himself by replying. "I cannot dismiss the possibility that we may be missing something, here. You know /what my brother is," he adds, the words visnea-/born and gods-touched hovering on his lips like epithets . . . or expletives.

"I am presently more concerned regarding what he might be capable of, if allowed free reign in this matter," is Ar'alani's prompt and matter of fact response, though the hardness in her eyes is an unvarnished warning. "Mitth'raw'nuruodo is a genius - a true prodigy, easily the most gifted warrior and tactician the Chiss Ascendancy has known in a thousand years or more. But his soul hungers after change like a starveling for food. And so, like all such remarkable beings, he potentially has the power to utterly unmake and remake us all, as a people, if we were to allow him. And perhaps, if the times were not as uncertain as they are, I would be more tempted to let him try it. The Chiss have not changed overly much in the past three thousand years, and there is danger of stagnation in a society and culture even as advanced as ours. As circumstances and the times are not settled, though, I am unwilling to risk permitting the venture. And I was under the impression, Mitth'ras'safis, that those members of the Ruling Houses who are aware of your brother's potential were and are of the same opinion. Is this not why they sent you here, to me?"

"There are things here that the Ruling Houses are not aware of."

"Just as there are things here of which we are not aware. Should we abandon our efforts to protect Mitth'raw'nuruodo because we understand less about what is going on here than he does?" is Ar'alani's rather tart reply.

"I am only attempting to suggest, Admiral, that perhaps there is more to this Car'das and his Galactic Republic than we have allowed ourselves to consider."

"Car'das is hardly more than a child. He worships your brother. Obviously. Rather like that other human does."

The distaste evident in Ar'alani's voice on that last observation makes Thrass' eyebrows all but leap up into his hairline in affronted shock. "Excuse me? Admiral, if you are trying to suggest that there is anything improper - "

"Any impropriety patently rests with the human female. Car'das is both too much of a child and too much of a pragmatist, from what I have observed, to ever consider your brother in such a light. And he is at least somewhat infatuated with the woman, or he would not have stood in quite so close a proximity to her, during our earliest meetings, as though he thought he might have to protect her against an actual physical attack. The woman spoke out of turn, within the Vagaari treasure room, and I corrected her, do you remember? Young Car'das would have taken her part, if not for your brother's hand, resting momentarily upon his shoulder, just before he stepped forward to place himself between the two of us and his three new pets."

"Admiral Ar'alani! They are not pets! They are sentient beings, much the same as we are! For shame! I should have hoped you would have observed enough, by now, to know better than to emulate Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano in this matter!" Under any other circumstances, Thrass would be horrified to hear himself take an Admiral of Ar'alani's rank to task in such a way. But then, any other situation would not have involved a lady of her wisdom and standing speaking of sentient beings plainly quite similar to and potentially just as intelligent and resourceful as the Chiss as if they were little more than trained parrots.

Ar'alani has the grace to blush slightly, her cheeks darkening to a color very much like plum, but her response is almost vicious in its sheer lack of repentance. "They are not Chiss. They are not of the Chiss Ascendancy. And they are as children, willfully and carelessly playing with fire and taking no note of the destruction they threaten or the chaos they leave in their wake. Our duty here is plain, and it is to Mitth'raw'nuruodo and the Chiss Ascendancy, not to these three wretched beings! Our would you rather lose your brother to this Galactic Republic they claim to hail from? Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano and his family currently are quite influential. And the Aristocra currently seeks to hide his considerable fear of your brother's nature and the potential for change he heralds by clothing it in a horror of your brother's newest companions and behaving as though the arrangements Mitth'raw'nuruodo has made with these humans, regarding the Vagaari plunder, is both a deliberate act against and personal affront to the Aristocra and his family! He is already openly suspicious of both your brother's interest in these humans and his actions against the Vagaari, in seizing that treasure ship. Do you truly wish to risk what might happen, if Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano should find actual reason to speak out against your brother?"

"Admiral. With all due respect - "

She instantly cuts him off, though, her voice sharp enough that it quite nearly distracts him from the hint of snideness lurking at the back of her eyes. "Syndic. With all honesty, we are in a bit of a situation, here. Need I remind you, Mitth'ras'safis, that the Vagaari and this so-called Trade Federation are not the only threats that may currently be facing our people? There is also the matter of the potential allies of the Vagaari, in case you've somehow managed to forget!"

"I remember, Admiral. I remember that you were the one who ordered my brother against a course of immediate pursuit of the worst of those potential allies. I remember that you were the one who arranged matters so that my brother would be assigned this particular quadrant to patrol, after he was reassigned from the Defense Fleet proper to the Expansionary Fleet. And I also seem to remember, Admiral Ar'alani, that you were the one who suggested that Chaf'orm'bintrano might actually wish to visit my brother's base, in person, if he were truly concerned about the rumors of a Vagaari presence in this particular vicinity!" Mitth'ras'safis rapidly and just as sharply replies, a touch of real anger coloring both his face and his voice.

For a moment, the Admiral looks as if she's been slapped. Then, with a gasp almost of horror, she snaps, "Mitth'ras'safis! Face!"

In turn, the Syndic's face and voice both become cold and hard enough that he could have given his brother lessons in a forbidding mien. "Do not lecture me on control, Ar'alani. First cousin or no, I swear to you - "

Ar'alani cuts him off again, though, this time with an openly offended hiss. "Syndic Mitth'ras'safis! I am an Admiral of the Chiss Defense Fleet! I belong to and account myself a member of no Ruling Family but the Defense Hierarchy itself! You will remember yourself, sir!"

"Prove yourself capable of denying that your interest in Mitth'raw'nuruodo is in no way influenced by the nature of your blood, and, do you so wish it, I shall remember myself publicly before the Council of Families," is Mitth'ras'safis' unyielding response.

Ar'alani simply looks at him, then, silently, for several long, tension-fraught moments, before finally, quietly and apparently wearily, simply saying, "Remember your duty here. We are protectors of the Chiss and the Chiss Ascendancy. Do not lose sight of the vast import that your brother represents, to the safety and security of our own." Then, spinning neatly on her heels, she strides off down the same corridor Jorj Car'das disappeared down so recently.

Mitth'ras'safis is left staring after her, as uneasy and distressed as before and no closer to finding a remedy for his uncertainty than he had been before the conversation began. For a few more moments he simply stands there, at the mouth of the corridor, heart and mind troubled, frowning ever so slightly as he gazes after the Admiral's retreating back (her rigid posture eerily like Car'das' had been when he, too, strode off down the hallway). Finally, though, he can find no reason to remain where he is, and so, sighing, strides off down the corridor himself, heading in the general direction of the rooms that have been set aside on the base for his use.

With any luck, he will have a chance to speak to Mitth'raw'nuruodo alone at some point this evening. Perhaps then he will be able to lay some of these troublesome doubts to rest . . .


***

Revan couldn't be more pleased with the way that events are developing around Thrawn, though he must admit that he had been caught slightly off-guard by Car'das' impassioned tirade against Thrass and Ar'alani's treatment of Thrawn and the overall Chiss attitude towards the Vagaari. That lecture about the sacredness of all life almost could have come from the lips of a trained Jedi, and it seems to have actually made at least Syndic Thrass stop and think very hard about several of his opinions and assumptions, if the way that the young Chiss has been pacing restlessly around his quarters since he returned to them, about two hours earlier, is any indication. Ar'alani is a little bit harder to read. She doesn't seem at all moved by either Car'das' irrefutable logic regarding the danger the Vagaari pose and his moral arguments or by Thrass' increasingly apparent concerns and doubts; however, her underlying admiration of and concern for Thrawn seem to be as strong as ever, and Revan knows that it is entirely because of her and Syndic Thrass that Thrawn hasn't yet been removed from command (or else simply robbed of both his Vagaari spoils of battle and his human companions) by Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano of the Fifth Ruling Family, who has apparently decided that being kept from seizing the Vagaari treasure ship should constitute enough reason, in the eyes of other Chiss, to hold a grudge against Thrawn personally (though the truth of the matter is more complex - something apparently involving the Aristocra's mother and her twin sister and a supposed insult offered up to them by Thrawn's father, although, from what Revan can tell, the Aristocra seems to be motivated primarily by a fear of Thrawn and the potential for change that he embodies). Car'das, of course, is as unaware of the fact that Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano is the real threat as he is of the fact that Ar'alani and Thrass' investigation is actually protecting Thrawn, which is precisely the state in which the Chiss (with the possible exception of the Aristocra) and Revan both want Car'das to be.

As long as Car'das remains unaware of this knowledge and holds firm in his conviction that he is the one who is going to have to do something to give both Ar'alani and Thrass sufficient reason to simply continue to let Thrawn operate as he had been doing before first Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano and then they themselves got involved in the running of both the base and of Picket Force Two, things should end up going as they must. This is especially likely to hold true since things are also going well with the agents Sidious sent after /Outbound Flight/. The Neimoidian Vicelord, Kav, has had his dignity affronted, his rank and power dismissed, and his command bowled over so many times that he is a constantly simmering vessel of fury and spite, one that is primed and ready to blow at any given moment, if only given the slightest of directing nudges. And Kinman Doriana is so sure of himself and his own cleverness, so utterly certain that he has seen through Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo's attempts at deception (when, in fact, he has only been allowed to apprehend the workings of the uppermost layer of Mitth'raw'nuruodo's carefully constructed plan, a web of shadows cast purposefully for the benefit of the so-called Commander Stratis, to bring him and his task force firmly within Mitth'raw'nuruodo's control), that he's simply not bothering to look any further than that exquisitely woven and patently false first layer of machinations. When Thrawn finally springs his trap upon him, Doriana will doubtlessly be caught so flat-footed that he will simply be unable to move quickly enough to respond in anything approaching a fast enough time to prove a danger. Revan won't have to do anything at all, once Kav has reached his breaking point. All he'll have to do is sit back and watch as events unfold in the manner that he has planned for them to, so that Thrawn will remain free of Lord Sidious. In short, things are going remarkably well - so well, in fact, that little remains for him to do, aside from watching and making sure that something that fool Doriana says doesn't manage to set Kav off prematurely. Yes. All Revan has to do now is wait.

Wait, and hope that, when Outbound Flight finally makes its appearance, he will be able to convince his erstwhile new apprentice that he does in fact have things well in hand and that what he is doing is for the best, irregardless of what Qui-Gon Jinn might believe . . .

***