“We’re on schedule, sir,” Samakro said, looking over at the navigator’s station. Che’ri was sitting upright in her seat, showing none of the subtle signs of sky-walker fatigue that would require a return to space-normal and a rest period.

In contrast Thalias, holding watch behind the girl, was sagging where she stood, apparently right on the edge of falling asleep.

But then, she’d been with Thrawn on the Vak homeworld of Primea, a witness to everything that happened there. That had put her under the spotlight for the same wearying round of Council and Syndicure hearings and interrogations that Thrawn and Ar’alani had endured. Under the circumstances, Samakro was mildly surprised the young woman was on her feet at all.

“Excellent,” Thrawn said. Out of the corner of his eye, Samakro saw the other look at Che’ri, make his own visual assessment of her condition, and come to the same conclusion. “You realize, of course, that peace has several different flavors.”

“Sir?” Samakro asked, frowning.

“I was returning to the topic raised by Senior Commander Kharill,” Thrawn said. “If the Ascendancy was conquered and our cities left in ruins, that would be peace of a sort.”

“That wasn’t what I was suggesting, sir,” Kharill said stiffly.

“I hardly expected that it was,” Thrawn assured him. “But that would be a conqueror’s concept of peace. A different conqueror might prefer the Chiss to be under his unbreakable control, to obey his orders without question. For him, that would be a version of peace.”

“I meant the kind of peace where no one is shooting at anyone else,” Kharill said.

“That’s the kind most civilized people wish for,” Thrawn said. “But how is that to be achieved?”

“I don’t know, Captain,” Kharill said. “I’m not a philosopher.”

For a moment Thrawn eyed him in silence. Then he inclined his head slightly. “Understood. Go check on the plasma sphere supply. I suspect we’ll be using them a great deal in the coming hours.”

“Yes, sir.” With clear relief, Kharill headed across the bridge toward the weapons station.

“He is a good officer, sir,” Samakro said quietly.

“I know,” Thrawn said. “His chief failing is a lack of curiosity.”

“I’d have said no imagination.”

“All beings possess imagination to varying degrees,” Thrawn said. “It can be encouraged and nurtured, or can sometimes shine out in moments of stress. But curiosity is a choice. Some wish to have it. Others don’t. How is the peace he wished for to be achieved?”

“Through the mutual respect and goodwill of all beings, of course,” Samakro said, daring a small ironic smile.

Thrawn smiled back. “And how is that respect to be achieved?”

Samakro’s smile faded. “By proving beyond any doubt that the Ascendancy can and will respond to an attack with overwhelming force.”

“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “And that’s why this mission isn’t madness, but instead is vitally necessary.”