Halfway To Martyrdom
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ezra raced after Qilori as he rounded up a dozen Lothwolf-looking aliens. They must have been the diplomats that Qilori rented his navigation services to. The aliens were an intimidating sort, with long snouts and fangs that peeked out from underneath their lips. Ezra had a hard time imagining them as the diplomatic sort, but perhaps appearances deceived him.
The wolf-aliens snarled at Qilori upon seeing Ezra. Qilori responded in a language different from the one he had been using with Ezra. Incredible. How many languages did navigators in the Unknown Regions know?
Qilori explained himself after via telepathic link. I told my clients you are a new student of mine, a novice navigator whose first venture among the Great Presence led him to Rapacc. They are impressed with your ability; the Rapacc system is famously difficult to access from the outside.
Ezra believed that. He remembered searching for this planet aboard the Chimaera. The flux and solar winds wrapping around the system were formidable indeed. He was glad to have someone more experienced than him in charge of getting out of here. "I've only navigated through the Force once by myself. Will you let me just watch you this time, Qilori?"
"Of course. Watch me with both your eyes and mind, Ezra of Bridger. I will show you how to contact the Great Presence. Through the Great Presence, our vessels may reach anywhere in the galaxy."
Once they had all the diplomats with them, the group traveled to a sharp-nosed ship that reminded Ezra of pre-Clone Wars designs back home. The point of the ship vaguely resembled the snout of the aliens who used it for traveling. As Ezra entered the ship, the first thing he noticed was the cold. Given their thick coats of fur, these aliens must prefer cooler temperatures than Ezra did. His skin flared up in goosebumps.
Qilori also signaled his discomfort. Reaching into his bag, he unraveled layer after layer of clothing. The last piece of clothing was a long, thin strip that Qilori tied over his eyes and ears. It reminded Ezra of the padded TIE helmet Thrawn had given him a couple days ago. Sensory deprivation aided navigators in their work with their "other sight," as Thrawn had described it. Had Thrawn made this observation by watching Qilori all those years ago?
Qilori took Ezra's hand, then laid it on his shoulder. From his place behind Qilori, Ezra could see everything the navigator was doing. Don't try to memorize buttons or switches, Ezra of Bridger. Every ship has a different layout. Either ask the ship owners before traveling or let the Great Presence tell you what each button does.
The pilot to the side of them (another of the wolflike alien species) prepared their ship for liftoff. As the diplomat's ship took to the air, Ezra searched the skies for the Chimaera. It would be his last time seeing the ship for… for forever, if Qilori was to be believed.
The thought should have comforted Ezra. Instead, the idea of losing the last familiar remnant of his life back home perturbed him. The foe he knew.
More importantly, the Chimaera was no longer in position over the Paccian city. It was nowhere to be seen. "Where did Thrawn go?"
Qilori hummed, then shot out a hand. He reached out through the Force into the area surrounding the planet. Through their link, Ezra watched as Qilori searched for Thrawn and his ship.
He found their broken vessel docked on a nearby moon. Once he found the craft Ezra had informed him was Thrawn's, Qilori drew back. The Paccosh have a base on that moon. It seems Thrawn is making use of it for repairs. That will make it easy for the Grysk to spot him.
"Good. With Thrawn off-world, he can't use civilians as a shield anymore." Ezra hoped the battle would be quick. Qilori was in a rush to get away from the fighting, and understandably so; his job was to guide passengers through the Unknown Regions. He wasn't a soldier.
Part of Ezra wished he could watch the battle. Say goodbye to Thrawn in a way. For all their years opposing one another, their time in each other's lives had ended on surprisingly good terms. Thrawn had taught Ezra his first lesson about a new power, then let him go. Now Ezra had a teacher willing to continue his training.
Once the ship was in orbit, the pilot steered them away from Rapacc's gravitational pull. Qilori held up a hand when the ship was far enough away for his work to begin. Ezra watched his every move through the Force, eager to learn how to navigate out of the tight box in which their ship sat.
First, Qilori emptied his mind of all thoughts. He no longer saw the light poking through his blindfold or felt the cold air on his skin. Once he was completely removed from his physical body, Qilori directed his mind towards the Force. His body remained perfectly still as his mind traveled faster than light towards the edges of the system.
Because he was familiar with the Rapacc system, Qilori knew what to look for to find openings in the system's "box" design. The ship would leave through one of those openings, then stretch across the stars to the home system of the diplomats. In Qilori's memory, the planet looked brown and barren. He had seen no vegetation during his time on the planet and suspected that the species he traveled with was carnivorous.
Now that he had located their destination, Qilori looked to string a metaphysical thread between start and finish line. The thread need not be straight, nor could it tangle in any gravity well. No star, planet, asteroid or comet could be allowed to cut their four-dimensional thread lest everyone aboard the ship die a terrible death.
That was when Ezra noticed. For a long journey like this one, Qilori wasn't only peering through the depths of space. He was peeking through time as well! He had to if he wanted to ensure their path would remain accessible for the hours of their journey. The Chaos was too cluttered and unpredictable to assume their route was always safe.
No wonder navicomputers hated the Unknown Regions. The machines weren't designed to work in an environment that changed often without pattern. Ezra was amazed at the level of thought and practice that went into navigation. Qilori did it with an ease that only came from decades of practice.
Once he had made a string he was sure wouldn't be severed, Qilori reconnected with the physical sensation of his hands. He reached down towards the ship's controls…
…and launched them all into hyperspace.
Thrawn spent his day wishing another person in his crew knew Taarja. He had convinced several officers to learn phrases in Sy Bisti (the surviving member with the most knowledge being Hammerly), but he had never expanded into any other trade languages. Thrawn had foolishly assumed that the bulk of their travel in the Chaos would be confined to areas near the Empire. Now Thrawn paid the price for his lack of foresight.
Once Condor had chosen the two hundred crew members who would remain above the Chimaera, Hammerly and Woldar went about organizing the remainder into groups for transport. The earliest groups to leave were those in medically induced comas, a number Thrawn was shocked to discover included Barron, Xoxtin, and Jeffries.
"My idea, sir," Nerric, the chief medical officer, explained. "Even after Commander Woldar sent Commander Barron to the brig, the group was still trying to stir up discontent in your absence. I remarked to Woldar that the only crew members their rumors weren't likely to reach were my comatose patients. Because Woldar was acting commander at the time, he ordered me to tranquilize them for the next standard cycle, twenty-four of our hours."
Thrawn was no stranger to neutralizing difficult passengers in this manner. "I accept your solution. I shall deal with my mutinous officers more thoroughly once we have all settled and arrived on-world. Travel with your patients and await further instruction."
Next to travel to Rapacc were those with less serious injuries. Commander Woldar oversaw this group. This allowed the Paccian freighter with medical equipment to make only two trips while everyone else had time to pack up their belongings. As they would be staying on Rapacc for a period of weeks, people were encouraged to take everything that would fit in a single backpack, namely hygiene supplies and changes of uniform.
Once all those in medical need had safely landed in the refugee zone on Rapacc, Hammerly assisted Thrawn in sending groups down in the remaining transport shuttles. They rode a mix of Imperial and Paccian vessels to the surface. Thrawn was the last of the departing soldiers to leave the ship. He left Condor with a list of tips for how to read Paccian body language and overcome the linguistic barrier separating the two peoples. Condor was not famous for his sensitivity towards other species, but he knew the Chimaera's mechanical needs better than anyone. Thrawn trusted him to be resourceful.
Tedious as playing translator could be, Thrawn found it a pleasant diversion from his usual duties. While Thrawn was relaying messages between the Paccian governance and his crew, Hammerly was directing the setup of their camp. The Paccosh had provided them with basic structures and facilities, but it was all Hammerly's choice how to organize the different groups in their space.
Thrawn took the chance to observe Hammerly's strategic abilities. While her layout was inspired by Imperial protocol, she did not follow the Empire's guidance exactly. The new medbay was located equidistant between the washinghouse and the cooking area, giving medical staff the shortest distance to travel when caring for patients. The entrance was guarded by the troopers followed by the supply crew so that they could receive and direct Paccian aid. The design was nearly that of a miniature city, one currently open to outsiders but could rescind access at any moment. Her chief priorities were recovery and defense.
In all, Hammerly did not fully trust the Paccosh to act in her crew's best interest. Thrawn did not blame her. Though he considered Uingali an old ally, Uingali had warned them that Grysk agents were a common occurrence on Rapacc.
Perhaps to return the favor, the Paccian Governance had erected their refugee camp in another military base. This one resided far away from any civilian settlement. It had the ocean to the west and south and another garrison to the northeast. No Paccian ships had remained with them, and they had left them no fuel for their own Imperial crafts.
As night approached once again on the rapidly-spinning planet, traffic between the camp and the nearest Paccian base came to a halt. It occurred to Thrawn that standard shifts and sleeping patterns did not align with Rapacc's rotations. He would have to reorganize them for everyone when dawn arrived. He suspected most of his crew would benefit from an early rest.
Thrawn knew there would be Paccian guards in the nearby wilderness, but he erected his own night patrols to keep watch. The very first one came back with an unexpected report: Uingali (or a messenger thereof) had come to visit them.
Already? Thrawn hadn't expected to see Uingali again so soon. He asked the troopers if they had any further information, but all they had was the name. The visitor must have repeated it over and over to them. "Very well. Bring the visitor to the camp entrance. Allow me to meet him myself."
Sure enough, the patrol brought Uingali before Thrawn. Thrawn sent the patrol back out, then led Uingali discreetly to his private quarters. For a moment, all was quiet between them.
Uingali broke the silence first. "Thank the ancestors it was you that your guards reported me to. I worried you had placed another officer in charge of the night watch."
"What brings you here again so soon? Did your spies not relay to you that our repairs would take until molting season?"
"I did not come here to gather information, but to disperse it." Uingali's eyes were solemn. Hard as the metal into which his clan crest had been carved. "The Lycanthryn diplomats aligned with the Grysk left in a hurry today. Supposedly they left several items behind and told no one of their reasons for departure. Our government is insulted by the move."
"You suspect their departure is connected to our arrival?" Thrawn asked.
"I suspect they told the Grysk about your ship hovering over our planet. The Grysk suspect your presence here and called their client species away to avoid harm coming to them."
Thrawn pondered the facts for a moment. "...These clients must be valuable to the Grysk if they are unwilling to risk their harm in a battle."
Uingali had no patience for Thrawn's musing. "If a battle is coming, we must prepare! My people cannot withstand open warfare with the Grysk, nor can yours."
"Not at this time, no." Thrawn considered the circumstances a moment longer. "The clear disadvantage to reporting our presence so early is that these Lycanthryns had little time to gather intelligence. Did anyone tell these diplomats about who we are or the arrangement we reached with your government?"
"Not according to my sources, no." Uingali's headfeathers fanned out in frustration. It was if he were attempting to make himself larger to intimidate a threat away. Yet the only person present to see was Thrawn, whom Uingali had never fought.
"Then that presents us the opportunity to craft our own negative information. While we are not yet certain the Grysk are coming, we must be prepared for the possibility that you are correct. We do not know how far away the enemy is nor when they will strike. There is no time to waste in the development of our strategy."
Uingali leaned his head forward, the tips of his headfeathers brushing against Thrawn's disheveling hair. Despite all their decades apart, Uingali remembered Thrawn's penchant for strategy well. "I'm listening. What do you suggest we do?"
When Thrawn's eyes met Uingali's, his crimson determination burned the last traces of exhaustion out of his gaze. "The first thing we will have to do is contact the crews aboard the Chimaera. The second relies on your answer to the following question:
"Have you kept up with the maintenance on your Nikadurn frigate?"
A/N's: This chapter is a bit shorter, but I hope what comes next makes up for it. I'm trying to write a Zahn-style battle scene for the first time, and it has been giving me trouble. There's so much that has to happen in a specific order, and I'm worried if I put one detail out of place that the whole narrative will fall apart. At least Ezra is out of the way for a couple chapters. That will give me more room for what's coming next.
I'm getting tired of apologizing for the long wait between updates, but I hope you all understand that I never intend for it to happen. I love this fic, but I let myself get intimidated by it sometimes. I run away and work on "easier" one shots all while silently beating myself up for procrastinating. I do this with my other giant multichap as well. Finally, I gave myself a pep talk about how perfectionism is the enemy of progress, and now... here we are. I may have to edit this chapter yet, but I'm glad my readers have it. Readers like you all, who have been so incredibly patient with me. Thank you for all your support!