“There you are,” the captain growled as Qilori settled himself into his seat. “How soon can you be ready?”

Qilori glanced at the status boards. They were still deep within Primea’s gravity well. Several minutes at least to get far enough out that they could access hyperspace, more like a quarter hour if they made a more leisurely departure. If he insisted on an additional status check of the hyperdrive, the engines, and the environmental systems before they left, it would buy him a little more time.

His winglets stiffened in frustration. A little more time, but not nearly enough. If Yiv hadn’t spotted the prep work, the Benevolent would have lost all chance to capture or kill Thrawn.

Which was undoubtedly the whole point of the sudden change in schedule. Thrawn, the envoy, Frangelic—maybe all three together—had decided to sneak Thrawn away from Primea before the Benevolent could launch his attack.

And then a movement on the aft display caught Qilori’s eye. Yiv’s flagship, the Deathless, had appeared over the horizon behind them, running a lower orbit and casually gaining on the Garwian ship.

He felt his winglets relax fractionally. So Yiv hadn’t been caught napping after all. Perfect. Now Qilori could let the Garwians move out of the gravity well on their own schedule, then make sure he didn’t take them into hyperspace until Yiv made his move—

“Officer Frangelic?” the Garwian at the communications station called. “The Vaks send an answer to your query. They’ve done a complete search of the diplomatic offices and guest quarters, and neither Artistic Master Svorno nor his companion are anywhere to be found.”

“Tell them they must be mistaken,” Frangelic said tersely. “If they’re not here, they have to be there.”

Qilori’s winglets froze in place. Thrawn wasn’t aboard? No—that couldn’t be. He had to be here. If he wasn’t—

Then Yiv was about to attack a Garwian ship, and almost certainly kill everyone aboard, for nothing.

“The Vaks are very insistent,” the comm officer said. “They’ve searched everywhere the Chiss might be. There’s no sign or trail of them.”

Qilori stared at the display and the Nikardun Battle Dreadnought coming steadily up into attack range. He needed to get word to Yiv, and he needed to do it fast.

Only he couldn’t. With this many Garwians milling around, there was no way he could get to any of the comm panels without being seen. But without comm access, he couldn’t talk to the Deathless.

Or rather, he couldn’t talk to the Deathless. “Officer Frangelic?” he called, turning toward the officer. “Excuse me, but I remember Artistic Master Svorno talking at length with General Yiv the Benevolent at the reception our first night on Primea. I believe that among other things they discussed Vak art and art displays. Perhaps the Benevolent will have some idea where he might have gone.”