“I see it,” Thalias said, her head pounding with a tension that had nothing to do with the extra weight of the hard-crust makeup once again creating the hostage-marking ridges and shallow plateaus across her face. With both the Nikardun and the Vaks here, the entire Primea system was enemy territory.

And she and Che’ri were all alone in the middle of it.

She looked at the girl, leaning forward a little over the fighter’s control board, her eyes narrowed with concentration. At least half of her expression was covered by the same makeup that Thalias was wearing, but there didn’t seem to be any tension there. Was she feeling any of the qualms Thalias was? “You’re awfully calm,” she said.

“Aren’t I supposed to be?” Che’ri asked, throwing a puzzled look at Thalias. “It’s all under control, right?”

“Well…sure, I suppose so,” Thalias said. “I just…”

“You trust him, don’t you?” Che’ri pressed.

“Yes, I guess so.”

“Because we’ve both seen him do some amazing stuff,” Che’ri went on, still frowning. “Getting that shield generator, getting you off Primea, battles and other stuff. You’ve seen all that, too, right?”

“Right,” Thalias said. “Only this time…”

“There’s no difference, really,” Che’ri said. “It’s all under control.”

“Of course there’s a difference.” Thalias said. “All the other times, Thrawn was here with us. If something went wrong, he could adapt or come up with a new plan.” She waved a hand around the cramped command deck. “Here…Che’ri, we’re on our own.”

“But he gave us our instructions,” Che’ri said. “We know what we’re supposed to do.”

“I know that,” Thalias said. “I’m just saying it’s not the same.”

“Oh,” Che’ri said, the part of her face that Thalias could see suddenly clearing. “It’s not that you don’t trust Thrawn. You don’t trust yourself.”

“Of course not,” Thalias said, hearing the edge of bitterness in her voice. She’d been aware of that nebulous feeling ever since Thrawn first proposed this plan. But up to now she’d never dared to even think those words. Now, with them out in the open, she felt a sudden weight of fear and doubt and inadequacy. “Why should I? What have I ever done to make him—to make anyone—think I could be trusted with something this big?”

“Well, you’re here,” Che’ri said. “That must mean he trusts you.”

“I asked for a reason.”

“We don’t always get reasons,” Che’ri said earnestly. “Whatever he sees in you, it was all he needed. He trusts you.” She paused. “So do I, if that helps any.”