“Okay,” Che’ri said, making a face as she activated the navigator board. By the time they were ready, the other ship would have a good ten-minute lead on them. How did Thrawn think she could get ahead of it?

“It’ll be all right if we arrive second,” Thrawn said. “But even with their lead, I have no doubt we’ll arrive first. A ship that size is unlikely to have a hyperdrive and navigational system equal to a Chiss ship and a Chiss sky-walker.”

Che’ri hunched her shoulders once as she got a grip on the controls. Darn right. They were Chiss, and they were not going to lose a race. Not to anyone. “I’m ready,” she said. “Tell me when.”

Che’ri’s first thought when she came out of her Third Sight trance was that she’d lost. The other ship was nowhere to be seen: not approaching the planet, not in orbit around it. She sighed, pressing her hand to her throbbing head. She’d tried so hard, but—

“There,” Thrawn said.

Che’ri felt her eyes widen, her headache instantly forgotten. He was right. The ship they’d seen watching the robot craft had just emerged from hyperspace. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s see if they’re interested in talking.” He keyed the comm. “Unidentified ship, this is Senior Captain Mitth’raw’nuruodo of the Chiss Ascendancy,” he said in Minnisiat. “Can you understand me?”

Silence. Thrawn repeated the greeting in Taarja, then in Meese Caulf, then Sy Bisti. Che’ri was trying to remember if there were any more trade languages she’d ever heard of when there was an answering ping from the comm. “Hello, Senior Captain Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” a woman’s voice came in Meese Caulf. “What can I do for you?”

“It is considered courteous for one party of a conversation to offer his or her name to the other,” Thrawn said.

“You think we’re going to have a conversation?”

“We seem to be doing so,” Thrawn pointed out.

There was a short pause. The other ship, Che’ri noted, was heading toward the planet, without any hint that the pilot might be interested in a closer look at the Chiss visitor. “Call me Duja,” the woman said. “My turn. Does the Chiss Ascendancy favor the Republic or the Separatists?”

“Neither,” Thrawn said. “We take no side in this war of yours.”

“Then I see no reason to talk to you. No offense,” Duja said. “You haven’t seen a Nubian ship land lately, have you?”

“What does it look like?”

“Shiny silvery metal,” Duja said. “Smooth curves, no angles, twin engine pods.”

“We have not seen it.”

“Conversation over, then,” Duja said. “Nice talking to you.” There was another ping as she shut off the connection.