From his post at the relaying comm station, just sideways of the Captain's command chair, currently usurped by that nonentity Piett, Per Theel had an excellent vantage point over most of the "Empire's Revenge" bridge – and the day's freshest outrage, the red-eyed freak ordering human officers about as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Should've pegged Piett for a frigging alien-lover sooner. When he'd shown up to report on the bridge, looking for Captain Corlag – and where was prakking Corlag while all this was going on? – Piett had assigned Theel to the comm, and barely spoken to him except to require reports. Yet when the freak had shown up with that sneaky twerp, Mikam – who'd be made to regret sucking up to that blue ape soon enough – Piett had bent over backwards to ask the other's advice, and to put him in charge. If that wasn't close to treason, Theel didn't know what was. The Imperial Navy had never admitted sub-humans until now, and there was a good—
"Lieutenant Theel, I believe I asked you for the subspace comm report," the freak's precise, hated voice cut into Per's ruminations, cold as space. Theel cast a venomous glance towards the tac station, but hit the requisite keys on his console, having caught Piett's sharp look from the corner of his eye. Thrawn never seemed to raise his tone, but somehow he could make himself heard across the bridge. With a stiff nod, he called up Theel's report on the tac viewspace, studied it for an instant, and turned to Piett.
"Sir, I think Bpfassh orbital station caught their echo. Ten light-minutes from here, plausible vector. Fourteen-strong fleet, at least three capital ships, came out of lightspeed for no more than 200 seconds, had encrypted comm activity, and jumped again."
"Blast." Piett stepped to the tac station and stared at the reading intently. "Looks like it indeed. Where's the 'Judicator'?"
"Bimmisaari system, half a day from here, sir."
"And the 'Peremptory'?"
"Still not answering our subspace and holo hails, unless they did in the last ten minutes, sir. Lieutenant Casrah, lieutenant Theel?"
"Nothing, sir," Casrah called out from the main comm station, across the bridge from Theel, who forced himself to answer "nothing" in an even voice.
Piett's eyes swiveled from the Bpfasshi report to the main tactical holo display. "It might get very crowded here in a few minutes," he remarked. "Suggestions, lieutenant Thrawn?"
Not "suggestions, gentlemen", Theel inwardly seethed. Granted, there was little tradition of collegial leadership in the Imperial Navy but this— this simply meant giving control to this alien.
"Sir, two can play this game," the other's smooth voice came. "We could microjump behind the nearest system's sun. It's a red dwarf, cooling close to extinction—I imagine our hull could stand to exit hyperspace close enough that our shadow would be entirely confused with the star's itself. In fact, if we calculate the jump vector precisely enough, the red dwarf's gravity well should pull us back into realspace like an Interdictor no matter how far we plot our course. We might look as if we jumped to the other end of the Corellian Trade Spine and be practically here still."
What damnfool notion— But Theel could see Commander Piett looked interested. Interested? The man's practically slobbering.
"You realize the manual says no hyperspace jump should be attempted near a planetary system, let alone within one, lieutenant?" he commented mildly, raising an eyebrow to the young tactical officer.
The glowing red eyes glittered for an instant, then Thrawn smiled. "I would imagine our Duros friend is quite aware of that, Commander."
A bleep punctuated his answer, and Theel saw the alien lieutenant flicking his collar comlink on.
"Bridge."
Per couldn't identify the chittering voice coming from the device: clearly, Thrawn had turned the settings quite low. But it was obvious he interrupted whoever was reporting to him. "I still need those calculations," the freak was saying in his cool, arrogant voice. "In fact we may need them in the next fifteen minutes. Please have them ready." Infuriated, Theel watched Thrawn flicking out the communication without a word of thanks. You think you've got it made, you can push us around. Well, I don't think so.
Meanwhile, the freak was buttering up Piett. "My apologies, sir." Not that he needed to – the other looked ready to surrender command to him. Could Thrawn have made a private deal with the Duros pirate fleet? Have gotten rid of the Captain somehow – where the frell was Corlag? – and planned this all along?
***
Commander Piett didn't share Theel's suspicions, but the captain's absence was beginning to worry him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, considering the tactical holo for a moment. "Hmmm. Once behind the sun, we can wait six hours for the 'Judicator' to join us, and crush them. I like your idea," he finally told the young alien lieutenant patiently standing next to the command chair. "I like it a lot, but I'd like it even better if we'd managed to sell it to Captain Corlag. Casrah, have you managed to reach the Captain yet?"
"No answer from the Captain's quarters, sir."
Piett compressed his lips to a thin line. "We should have sent someone to check on him."
"I'll detail two men straightaway, sir," Thrawn said quietly, "but they won't be back in time—"
"Yes, I know—if this other force jumps back here straight from Bpfassh, they'll hit us in what—?"
"Worst-case scenario, seven minutes, sir."
Piett's grey eyes narrowed. "Very well, let's do it, and be quick about it. Sensor officer: I want a report on anything that moves in a half-parsec radius. Lieutenant Thrawn, I assume you can calculate precisely that jump vector to the other side of the red dwarf?"
"Aye, sir. I'll need to double-check on—"
"Do it. Helm: full power to the main engines, you'll be getting a hyperspace vector in a moment from lieutenant Thrawn. Lieutenant Mikam, I need a long-range missiles readiness check, full-operational in ten minutes: please coordinate with Commander Janred. Let's be about it, gentlemen!"
Thrawn had already stepped to the tac console, keying in data. Piett saw him talking into his comlink, and called up the new sensor reports on the command chair's displays, a tight feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was no theoretical reason for the microjump to fail, as long as it was carefully plotted. Small craft had been known to do it, even to rely on large astral bodies' gravity to revert to realspace – the Bomdan system was a favorite, because of its star's unusual density. Still, this would be a first with any kind of capital ship. Piett thought of the 37,000 men on "Empire's Revenge," then of the havoc a fleet of over 20 pirate ships could wreak even on an Imperial Star Destroyer. It was a command decision, he'd taken it. All he could do now was trust that Thrawn was as good an astrogator as he seemed to be a tactician.
"Inputing the jump coordinates now, sir."
Piett cast a look at the navputer display. No time to lose.
"Thank you, Lieutenant Thrawn. Helm, prepare to—"
The rest of the order never came, as a booming voice interrupted from the command walkway to the bridge.
"What the kreth is going on on my bridge? Piett, what do you think you're doing?"
Captain Corlag had finally appeared.