Ar’alani drew in a deep breath, pulling with it every bit of patience her mind and body could muster. “Yes, Syndic,” she said. “I think we’ve been over it enough times.”

“Because I’m serious,” he went on, as if he hadn’t heard her. Or more likely didn’t believe her. “If either the Garwians or the Vaks refuse to give him up, or deny knowing anything about him, we turn the ship around and go home.”

“I understand,” Ar’alani said.

Which wasn’t to say that she agreed with him. Or that she had any intention of following such a ridiculous order.

Defying an Aristocra syndic could mean the end of her career, of course. But she’d put her career on the line so many times before that it was almost becoming routine.

What wasn’t routine was why Zistalmu and Thurfian both seemed so single-mindedly determined to destroy Thrawn. She’d been mulling over that question since their departure from the Ascendancy, and she was no closer to figuring it out now than she had been then.

Maybe it was time she did something about that.

She looked over at the navigator’s station. Che’ri was sitting there, her breathing slow and steady, deep in Third Sight as she guided them toward Primea. Standing beside her was Zistalmu’s wife, who’d never offered Ar’alani her proper name but had instead insisted that everyone aboard call her Nana. A rather annoying affectation, in Ar’alani’s opinion. Possibly why the woman had only lasted two years as a caregiver.

But right now all that mattered was that for the next minute neither she nor anyone else was in position to listen in.

“A question, Syndic,” Ar’alani said as Zistalmu started to turn away. “For my own curiosity.”

“Yes?”

She turned her full gaze on him. “Why do you and Syndic Thurfian hate Thrawn so much?”

She’d expected some kind of reaction from him. To her surprise, his expression didn’t even twitch. “About time,” he said calmly. “I’ve been expecting you to bring up that topic since we left Csilla.”

“Sorry, I’ve had other things on my mind,” Ar’alani said. “May I have an answer?”

“First ask the correct question,” Zistalmu said. “We don’t hate Thrawn. Actually, we both admire his military skill. We resist him because he’s a threat to the Ascendancy.”

“To the Ascendancy?” Ar’alani countered. “Or to the Irizi family?”

Zistalmu shook his head. “You really don’t see it, do you? In that case, there’s no point in continuing this conversation.”