Che’ri looked at Thrawn, expecting him to call Duja back and try to persuade her, maybe offer to work together. But to her surprise, he merely closed down the comm. “You’re just letting her go?” she asked.

“She’s not a warrior,” Thrawn said, his voice thoughtful. “A scout, perhaps a spy, clearly someone with training. But not a warrior.”

“How do you know she’s had training?”

“Her ship is armed,” he said, “and as we spoke she rotated slightly so the weapons could be more quickly brought to bear if necessary.”

“Oh,” Che’ri said. She hadn’t seen any of that. “What do we do?”

“We wait,” he said. “As I said, she’s a scout or a spy. Sooner or later, a warrior will come.”

The warrior Che’ri and Thrawn were waiting for, it seemed, was in no great hurry.

Thrawn and Che’ri had been waiting three days when the silvery ship Duja had talked about appeared. It disappeared into the trees a fair distance from a settlement built in and around a group of black stone or wooden spires. A few hours later, Duja’s ship rose from the forest and headed away, pursued briefly and uselessly by a couple of the planet’s patrol ships. Che’ri waited for the Nubian to follow it, but the big silver ship remained hidden.

And then, again, nothing. Thrawn spent the days studying all the information he could find on the planet—which Che’ri learned was named Batuu—and giving Che’ri more piloting exercises with the control board in simulator mode. Che’ri, for her part, ran the exercises over and over, and over and over again. Thrawn hadn’t actually said so, but she had a strong suspicion that when the expected warrior arrived Thrawn would be leaving the scout ship in her hands. When that happened, she was determined not to let him down.

And then, even as Che’ri was privately about to give up hope, he was there.

“Unidentified ship, this is General Anakin Skywalker of the Galactic Republic,” the pilot said over the scout ship’s speaker, the Meese Caulf words a little mangled but mostly correct. “You are intruding on Republic equipment and interfering with a Republic mission. I order you to pull back and identify yourself.”

“I greet you,” Thrawn said in turn. “Did you give your name as General Skywalker?”

“I did. Why, have you heard of me?”

Thrawn caught Che’ri’s eye as he touched the MUTE button. “Interesting coincidence,” he commented.

Che’ri nodded. The pilot had spoken the word as if it was his name, but probably he’d just messed up the language.

Thrawn unmuted the comm. “No, not at all,” he said. “I was merely surprised. Let me assure you I mean no harm to you or your equipment. I merely wished a closer look at this interesting device.”