Exactly as Thrawn had predicted he would be. “I would again beg your indulgence,” she said. “I bring a written explanation and an overture of peace and reconciliation from the senior captain. Will you permit me to land and bring it to your military leader?”

Another pause. “You may land,” the Vak said. “I’ve activated a navigational beacon to guide you.”

“Che’ri?” Thalias murmured.

The girl nodded. “Got it. Shifting course now.”

“Thank you,” Thalias said. “I will bring the document with me. I was ordered to place it directly into the hand of your military leader. I beg you to permit me to fulfill my duty.”

“Land first,” the Vak said. “Once we’ve examined the craft and assessed any damage, we shall see about your document.”

“Thank you,” Thalias said. “We shall look forward to seeing you soon.”

There was a click as the Vak closed off the transmission. “So far, so good,” Thalias said, trying to sound casual.

“It’ll work,” Che’ri assured her as the fighter angled down toward the lights of a city far below. “Thrawn’s got this. We’ve got this.”

Thalias nodded. She still wasn’t sure about herself, but she was confident in Thrawn’s skills.

Because, really, when had he ever been wrong?

Memories XII

It was a high honor, Ar’alani had been assured, when an alien government invited a Chiss military officer to travel to their world. The fact that Security Chief Frangelic had specifically said the Ruleri would be present had added an even deeper layer to the honor.

And so, as she and Thrawn left their shuttle and walked to the cluster of waiting Garwians, she tried very hard not to be overwhelmed by the mix of a hundred strange odors swirling around her like a morning fog. It was thick enough, and intense enough, that she nearly turned around and headed back to the shuttle and the olfactory security of the Destrama.

To her surprise, though, by the time the greeting ceremony was over and she and Thrawn were ushered to a waiting ground car her nose and lungs were already starting to adapt. As they drove across the city toward the planetary security center the smells receded even more, and by the time the car stopped and Frangelic ushered them out onto the street the aroma had become neutral, even edging toward something pleasant.

Though it was possible that the mixture had simply changed along the way. Certainly the large circular courtyard stretched out before them, crowded with pedestrians, had many spots where wisps of smoke marked open-fire cooking, and she’d always liked such aromas.

“This can’t be the security center,” she commented as Frangelic closed the car door behind them.

“The center is there,” he said, pointing to a whitestone building on the far side of the courtyard. “But as you can see, vehicles would have difficulty maneuvering through the weekend Creators’ Market.”