“Really,” Yiv said. “When you return to Csilla, you must look up the story of his dealings with the Garwians and Lioaoi. The real story, not the version available to the public.”

“Why?” Thalias asked. “What’s different about it?”

“Oh, far be it from me to ruin the surprise,” Yiv said cheerfully. “But I’ve had the full truth from the Lioaoi. Let’s just say that your master isn’t nearly as good as he thinks.” He considered. “Not that it matters in this case, because no one in the Combine will ever read his offer. The letter the Vaks actually received was merely an apology and an earnest hope that this won’t sour the Combine’s view of the Chiss. Content that, I daresay, they won’t need to endlessly debate.”

Thalias looked at Che’ri. The girl was trying to keep up a good front, but Thalias could see that Yiv’s one–two punch with the tava canister and his substitute note had left her shaken.

Yiv had spotted it, too. “I seem to have upset your fellow hostage,” he said with feigned concern. “Or perhaps she’s simply not as good at hiding her feelings as you are.”

“We’re hostages,” Thalias said. “Our feelings also lie at the mercy of our master and his family.”

“No doubt she would learn with age and practice,” Yiv said. “Well, perhaps your next master will continue her training. Would you care to retire to a resting area for a bit? I’ll want you here with me when Thrawn arrives—I’m sure he’ll want to see you—but that will be several more hours.”

“Or several more days,” Thalias said. “Primea is a long way from the Ascendancy via jump-by-jump travel.”

“Not a problem,” Yiv said with another broad smile. “He’ll certainly wish to hire a navigator for such an important meeting. And that navigator—my navigator—is likely even now coming aboard his freighter. A few hours, maybe less, and it will all be over.”

“I’m glad you were available for this journey,” Thrawn said, handing Qilori a steaming mug.

“As am I,” Qilori said, sniffing approvingly. Galara tealeaf, his favorite drink. “I’d just returned to the concourse and was looking over the list of possible jobs when your message came through.”

“I’m glad you were willing to wait for my arrival.”

“I was happy to do so,” Qilori said. “For one thing, voyages with you are never boring. For another—” He hefted his mug.

“The tealeaf?”

“Yes,” Qilori said. “Very few Pathfinder employers remember their navigator’s preferences. A large number don’t even bother to learn our names.”

“It seemed appropriate,” Thrawn said. “Since this will likely be our last voyage together.”

“Really?” Qilori asked, frowning at the Chiss over the edge of the mug. “How so?”