Star Wars: Adventure Journal 11: Command Decision

by Timothy Zahn

  Command Decision

  by Timothy Zahn

  Illustrations by Doug Shuler and Mike Vilardi

  They had left the Core Worlds a dozen jumps ago, setting off across the Outer Rim Territories with its barbarians and non-human monsters and thinly-veiled contempt for the glory and benevolence that was the Empire. Four jumps ago they had left behind even that pale caricature of civilization to enter the sparsely charted region called Wild Space. Now, with this final jump, the Imperial Star Destroyer Admonitor had left even that behind.

  Ahead of them lay the Unknown Regions. Behind them lay the Empire. And, for all practical purposes, the ruins of their careers.

  “Forward sensors reporting, Captain,” an officer called from the starboard crew pit. “No signs of spacecraft.”

  “Acknowledged,” Captain Dagon Niriz said, glowering out the bridge viewport at the dull red sun glowing in the near distance. The dying embers of a once glorious star. How very symbolic. “Launch TIE fighter squadron,” he ordered. “As per the admiral's orders.”

  “Yes, sir.” There was a footstep beside him. “Well, there it is,” General Larr Haverel commented. “Our new tour of duty. Looks so very inviting, doesn't it.”

  “Looks so very like slow death,” Niriz said bluntly.

  “Yes,” Haverel murmured. “I suppose slow death is just what happens when you come down on the wrong side of Imperial Palace politics.”

  Niriz nodded sourly. He'd seen it happen himself, time and time again: intrigues and squabblings among the aides and advisors and sycophants of the Imperial court as they forever jockeyed for the Emperor's ear and favor. The tension between two sides could sometimes build for years, then suddenly come to a head and be over in a matter of days or even hours, with the loser and his allies either executed or - if the winners were feeling particularly lenient that day - sent packing off to effective exile on some mudwater world like Abregado or Tatooine.

  And the admiral had been right in the middle of the game, so the gossip said, playing it with zest and a certain degree of finesse. To have pulled this exploration/mapping assignment in the Unknown Regions, he must have lost big.

  But that was no reason why Niriz and Haverel and the rest of the Admonitor's crew had to lose with him. No reason at all.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Niriz saw the officers in the starboard crew pit stiffen, their attention shifting aft. Niriz stayed where he was, watching the dark shapes of the TIE fighters as they realigned into search formation, until he heard the soft footstep on the command walkway behind him. “Admiral,” he said, only then turning around.

  It was indeed, as he'd surmised, Admiral Thrawn. “Captain,” the admiral said in that carefully cultured voice of his. “Report.”

  “We've arrived, sir,” Niriz said shortly, eying him with the mixture of fascination and distaste that had followed Thrawn ever since Captain Voss Parck had found him on some mudwater planet out here in the Unknown Regions and brought him back to the Imperial Court. Basically man-shaped, Thrawn's blue skin and glowing red eyes nevertheless marked him emphatically as an alien. And the Emperor did not like aliens.

  Parck should have been disciplined or executed on the spot for that kind of arrogance. The only reason he hadn't been was that Thrawn had apparently turned out to be quite a competent tactician and strategist. He'd been given private Academy training, risen with dramatic speed through the ranks, and ultimately been made a command officer.

  The Emperor had tolerated his presence. Why, Niriz would never know. Others in the court - a great many others - had not.

  “Yes, I see that, “Thrawn said dryly, those glittering eyes shifting momentarily over Niriz's shoulder. “But those fighters should be further out by now. How soon after our arrival did you order them launched?”

  “Immediately, sir,” Niriz said, striving to keep his voice civil. Whether he liked this assignment or not, he was still an Imperial officer, and he obeyed orders. “There might have been some trouble with the pre-launch check list - the crews aren't used to dealing with the hyperdrives on these new TIE scouts.”

  “If so, it's a deficiency they need to correct,” Thrawn said. “Launch practice, Captain, beginning now. Please see to it personally.”

  Niriz ground his teeth. “Yes, sir,” he managed, catching the eye of the comm officer. “Call Commander Parck to the bridge.”

  “Yes, sir.” Niriz looked back at Thrawn, a small touch of spiteful satisfaction flickering through him. Parck might not have been disciplined at the time, but Thrawn's enemies hadn't forgotten him. Once the captain of his own Victory-class Star Destroyer, he'd been summarily stripped of that command, demoted to commander, and put aboard the Admonitor as Niriz's first officer. Served him right.

  The admiral was watching him, an unreadable expression on his alien face. “I gather, Captain, that you don't consider this mission worthwhile.”

  “No, sir, I don't,” Niriz said, lowering his voice out of habit to keep his words from the ears of those in the crew pits. Differences between senior officers were none of the lower ranks' business. “If I may speak freely, I think it's a complete waste of the Empire's time and energy and resources. With reports of unrest cropping up all across the Empire, sending a fully equipped Star Destroyer out here on mapping duty is just plain stupid.”

  “Perhaps,” Thrawn said. If he was offended by Niriz's boldness, his expression didn't show it. “On the other hand, the Empire is a living entity. All living entities must grow if they're to survive.”

  “There's plenty of room for growth within our own borders,” Niriz countered. “There must be hundreds of worlds back there we've hardly even glanced at.”

  “The Exploration Corps can deal with those,” Thrawn said with a hint of disdain. “The Unknown Regions are the future of the Empire, Captain. It's only fitting that the Imperial Fleet lead the way.”

  Niriz bit down on his tongue. Thrawn was putting a good front on it, he had to give him that. Perhaps he'd even convinced himself that he hadn't in fact lost that last political fight. “Of course,” he said aloud. “Sir.”

  A movement at the archway leading to the aft bridge caught his eye: Commander Parck had arrived. “With your permission, Admiral, I'll start the hangar bay crews on their practice.”

  “Very good, Captain,” Thrawn said, his eyes again on the starscape outside. “Have them concentrate on pre-launch drills for the moment. I don't think we'll be spending more than an hour or two in this system, and I don't want the TIEs caught outside when we're ready to jump.”

  “Yes, sir,” Niriz said. Stepping past the blue-skinned alien, he stalked back down the command walkway, seething quietly to himself. To send the ship's captain to deal personally with TIE fighter crews was almost as demeaning as a public slap in the face. No wonder Thrawn had gotten himself exiled out here. The only mystery was what had taken the Imperial Courtiers so long to do it.

  They were on their fifteenth system when they found their first sign of intelligent life. Or rather, when it found them.

  “There are three of them, Captain,” the sensor officer reported. “About twenty-five meters long - roughly the size of an Oracaian customs frigate. Unfamiliar configuration; unknown weaponry.”

  “Acknowledged,” Niriz said, standing on the command walkway with Thrawn and Parck and gazing out at the approaching spacecraft. An alien design, but with the compact and nimble-looking shape of fighters. One squadron of TIE fighters was already on their way out of the hangar bay, with a second standing by. “TIE control: order advance squadron to warn them back.”

  “Countermand that,” Thrawn said before the officer could a
cknowledge. “Advance squadron is to take up open escort formation ahead of the Admonitor. Comm officer, key external signal to my comlink.”

  He pulled his comlink cylinder from one of his tunic chest pockets. “I trust you realize those ships out there are probably armed,” Niriz warned him.

  “Oh, I'm sure they are,” Thrawn agreed.

  “Then shouldn't we do something about that?” Niriz asked, striving for patience.

  “We're at full battle alert,” Thrawn reminded him. “For now, that should be sufficient.” He lifted his comlink and thumbed it on. “Unidentified spacecraft, this is the Alderaanian Colony Ship Admonitor. If you understand, please respond.”

  He switched off the comlink.

  “Colony Ship?” Niriz repeated with a frown.

  “We're a rather imposing sight,” Thrawn pointed out. “I don't want our size to frighten them away.”

  Niriz looked back at the approaching fighters. Not only did the admiral not want to fight, he didn't even want to worry them. Maybe he'd change his mind when they blew off the command superstructure. “And you're expecting them to understand Basic?”

  “They're close enough to Wild Space to have run into traders or smugglers from the Empire,” Thrawn said. “If they haven't, I know a couple other languages we can try.”

  Abruptly, the bridge was filled with noisy static. “Hello, Colony Ship,” a wheezing voice said. “I am Creysis, ruler of this system and lord of all I survey. How dare you invade my realm without my permission?”

  “More ships,” the sensor officer called. “Incoming from around that small moon to portside. Twenty... thirty... thirty-eight of them total. One larger ship, bulk freighter size, falling in behind them.”

  “Launch second TIE squadron,” Niriz ordered. “And have two more squadrons prepped immediately.”

  “Countermand that,” Thrawn said again. “Have advance squadron pull back to tight escort formation.”

  “Sir, I strongly suggest you reconsider,” Niriz said, one hand clenching into a frustrated fist. Did this blue-skinned alien understand nothing about standard tactics? “The whole purpose of a fighter screen is to engage the enemy at a safe distance and force him to disclose his weaponry.”

  “I'm aware of that, thank you,” Thrawn said, his attention clearly on the approaching fleet. “Don't worry, they're not going to attack. Not until they have a better idea of our capabilities.”

  He switched on his comlink again. “Our apologies, Creysis,” he said. “We didn't realize we were intruding. We'll leave at once, of course, as soon as our exploration ships are back aboard.”

  The static returned. “I accept your apologies,” Creysis wheezed. “What exactly is it you seek?”

  “A new home for our colonists,” Thrawn said. “One which would not intrude on you or anyone else, of course. Would you happen to know of any such worlds?”

  “I might,” Creysis said. “Perhaps we should meet personally for a discussion.”

  “That would be most generous of you,” Thrawn said. “May I offer the hospitality of the Admonitor for a meeting?”

  “As a token of my trust, I will come,” the wheezing voice said. “I will have my transport prepared at once.”

  “I'll look forward to meeting you,” Thrawn said. “Farewell.” He switched off the comlink and returned it to his chest pocket. “Order two TIEs to remain outside to escort our visitor into the hangar bay,” he instructed the fighter control officer. “The rest will return to the hangar bay but remain on alert. All stations will continue at battle readiness.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Commander Parck, you'll stay here,” Thrawn continued. “Captain Niriz, come with me. We have preparations to make before our guests arrive.”

  Niriz hadn't expected Creysis to be naive enough to board an unknown ship alone, and he was right. When the piercing squeal of the alien gas-drive landing jets finally faded away there were five alien ships resting on the Number 3 hangar bay deck: four of the fighters they'd first encountered forming a square around a smaller one-man craft.

  Or rather, a one-alien craft. The being that emerged was large, ungraceful, and - in Niriz's opinion - fairly revolting. His misshapen head was hairless and noseless, with oval eyes that seemed to be set too far apart across its face and a puckering mouth ringed with undulating, worm-like tentacles. From a distance his skin appeared pinkish; close up, Niriz could see that it was in fact a creamy white background covered with a crisscrossing pattern of delicate red lines. He was dressed in a long vest of dark-furred animal skins sewn together in an apparently haphazard pattern. Hanging around his neck on a cord was a bent- teardrop pendant of gold scattered with colored gems; strapped conspicuously at his side was a large hand weapon.

  “I am Creysis,” he wheezed as he lumbered across the deck toward the Imperials waiting for him. “Which one commands?”

  “I do,” Thrawn said, taking half a step forward. “I am called Thrawn. This is Captain Niriz, in command of the Admonitor itself.”

  “Ah,” Creysis said, coming to a stop two meters away. For a moment the mouth worms wiggled a little more vigorously, perhaps sampling odors or sounds. “How many colonists have you?”

  “Forty thousand,” Thrawn said. “Plus seven thousand crewmen who run the ship. Do you know of any planets nearby we might be able to colonize?”

  “Not so quickly, red-eyes,” Creysis said, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Before talk do you not honor me with a gift?”

  “Of course, “ Thrawn said, signaling to one of the troopers hanging a few meters back. The other stepped forward and handed the admiral a small box. “I see from your pendant that you appreciate beautiful things,” Thrawn said, opening the box and lifting out a delicately carved golden sculpture. “Please accept this as a token of our honor toward you.”

  “It is indeed beautiful, “ Creysis said, not making a move to take it. “But my wish was for a different gift.”

  “My apologies,” Thrawn said. “Have you any suggestions?”

  “One of those.” Creysis lifted his right arm, bent tightly, and pointed the elbow toward one of the TIE fighters standing ready.

  Thrawn shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I can't give you one of those,” he said. “We have a limited number of exploration ships, and the path we will have to take before we reach our final destination is still very uncertain. If it would soothe your feelings, though, I could offer you a second or even a third sculpture. We have many such items aboard for use as trade goods.”

  “That will not be necessary,” Creysis said. Again the mouth worms wiggled; then, with an elaborate shrug that seemed to start at his hips and run all the way to the top of his shoulders, he stepped forward and plucked the sculpture from Thrawn's hands. “Perhaps when you have settled to your new world you will have an exploration ship to spare me.”

  “Perhaps,” Thrawn said. “Though that would of course depend on how quickly we find such a world.”

  “Of course,” Creysis agreed. “Have you a list of parameters for the world you seek?”

  “I shall convene the Council of Colonists immediately,” Thrawn said. “I'm sure they'll be able to come up with a proper list.”

  “Prepare it at your leisure,” Creysis said, taking a step back toward his transport. “Make sure it is exactly what you want. When it is ready, you may bring it to me at my command ship.” The worms wiggled. “When you come, be certain you are also prepared to strike a bargain.”

  “What do you mean, a bargain?” Niriz asked.

  Creysis eyed him. “Do you expect a world for free, white-head?” he sniffed, the wheezing taking on an edge of contempt. “If you wish your journey shortened by me, you must pay for the information.”

  “I understand,” Thrawn assured him. “The Council of Colonists will arrive fully prepared to deal with you.”

  The mouth worms stiffened one last time, then Creysis turned and stalked into his ship. Thrawn motioned the Imperials back; and with another gale blas
t of gas-drive landing jets, the five alien ships lifted from the deck and made their way out the hangar entry port.

  “Evaluation, Captain?” Thrawn asked.

  “They're obviously primitives,” Niriz sniffed, strongly tempted to quote for him the old Imperial dictum that all non-humans were primitives. “Animal-skin clothing, and rather haphazardly put together.”

  “Yet the seam lines were straight and used a slender thread,” Thrawn said. “I'd say the unevenness in the pattern was likely part of the style. Anything else?”

  “They don't seem to have repulsorlifts,” Niriz said. “But they make up for it in weaponry. I counted at least ten laser barrels on each of those fighters.”

  “Ten barrels, yes,” Thrawn said. “But I suspect no more than two of them were actually lasers. The tips on the other eight looked more suited to projectile weapons or even focused sensors. What about our visitor himself?”

  Niriz looked out at the departing alien ships, wanting very much to tell Thrawn that none of this was really very important. But something in the admiral's tone or manner demanded a thoughtful answer. “Very confident,” he said. “Arrogant, even. Typical of a barbarian leader, whether he's got anything to back up the bluster or not. You’re not seriously going to send a delegation into his ship, are you?”

  “He was willing to come here,” Thrawn pointed out. “Refusing to reciprocate might be taken as an insult.”

  Niriz snorted. “I imagine you can guess how much I care about that. “

  “More to the point, we're here to explore,” Thrawn said. “This is our chance to learn more about these people, and perhaps learn something about the immediate area.”

  Niriz grimaced, but Thrawn was right. “May I recommend, sir, that we at least try to find out what we're up against. We have three sensor-stealthed assault shuttles aboard - let me send one of them around the back of that moon and see how many ships Creysis has. “

  “If that was actually their main base, that might tell us something,” Thrawn agreed. “But it isn't. Tell me, Captain, you've been dealing closely with the Admonitor's TIE pilots for the past few days. Is there anyone in particular you'd consider especially good under fire?”