Ba’kif nodded. That was the same analysis and logic he’d followed, and it had taken him to the same conclusion.

That logic plus one more crucial, terrible fact.

“Let’s get the obvious question out of the way,” he said. “Is this ship at all related to the ones that attacked Csilla two days ago?”

“No,” Thrawn said promptly. “I can see no artistic or architectural connection between them at all.”

Ba’kif nodded again. That, too, had been his conclusion. “So it’s possible the two incidents are unrelated.”

“If so, it would be an interesting coincidence,” Thrawn said. “I consider it more likely that the attack on Csilla was a diversion to draw our attention inward and away from this event.”

“Indeed,” Ba’kif agreed. “And given the cost of the diversion, it further suggests someone really doesn’t want us taking a good look at this ship.”

“Indeed,” Thrawn said thoughtfully. “I wonder why they left the wreckage instead of destroying it completely.”

“I can tell you that, sir,” the pilot put in. “I was on the patrol ship that spotted the attack. We were too far away to intervene or to get any real sensor data, but the attacker apparently spotted our approach and decided not to risk a confrontation. By the time we arrived and began our investigation, it had escaped back into hyperspace.”

“So we already knew about the attack,” Ba’kif added. “The diversion was then presumably an attempt to push it out of our attention.”

“At least until more time had passed,” Thrawn said. “How much time, sir, do you estimate?”

Ba’kif shook his head. “Impossible to say for certain. But given the Syndicure’s outrage at the Csilla attack, I’m guessing they’ll keep up the pressure on the fleet to find the culprits for at least the next three or four months. Assuming, of course, that we don’t identify them before then.”

“We won’t,” Thrawn said. “From the recordings I saw of the attack, the ships looked old, even marginally obsolete. Whoever their master was, he chose ships that’ll most likely bear little resemblance to what he’s using now.”

Ba’kif smiled grimly. “But then, a little resemblance may be all we need.”

“Perhaps.” Thrawn gestured toward the wrecked ship. “I assume we’ll be going aboard?”

Ba’kif looked at the pilot. Her cheeks were tight, the skin around her eyes pinched. She’d been aboard once, and clearly had no desire to go back. “Yes,” he said. “Just the two of us. The shuttle crew will stay here on watch.”

“Understood,” Thrawn said. “With your permission, I’ll prepare the boarding suits.”

“Go ahead,” Ba’kif said. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

He waited until Thrawn had left. “I presume you left everything as you found it?” he asked the pilot.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “But…”

“But?” Ba’kif prompted.