Qilori blinked moisture back into his eyes. Standing thirty kilometers off the freighter’s bow was a formation of four massive Battle Dreadnoughts. “Why, did he say he was going to come unarmed, too?” he asked, trying to keep the sudden nervousness out of his voice. That was a lot of military hardware out there, a good half of the force the Nikardun had in this region.

He’d assumed Yiv would be content to just bring the Deathless to the rendezvous. Apparently, the Benevolent had decided to err on the side of caution.

“No, of course I assumed he would bring extra ships,” Thrawn said. “I was referring to the fact that these aren’t the coordinates he sent in his message.”

“They’re not?” Qilori asked, feigning surprise. These were the coordinates Yiv had given to him, but of course Thrawn wasn’t supposed to know that. “I don’t understand. These are the ones you downloaded into the ship’s computer before we left the concourse.”

“Then someone switched them after I handed them to the dispatcher.” Thrawn pointed to the left, where the planet Primea was a small dot in the distance. “We were supposed to come out in a high planetary orbit. Apparently, the general wanted to carry out our transaction in a less conspicuous part of the system.”

He reached to the control board and keyed the comm. “General Yiv, this is Senior Captain Thrawn. I trust my companions are undamaged?”

The comm display lit up. Yiv was seated in his command chair, his shoulder symbionts waving their usual unnerving rhythm. Kneeling on the deck in front of him were his two prisoners. One of them was the female whom Qilori had seen at the Primea diplomatic reception where Thrawn and Yiv had first met, the female he’d heard Thrawn refer to as a family hostage. The other was much younger, possibly not even in her teens, both of them wearing the same grotesque makeup. Whatever this hostage thing was the Chiss were running, it apparently started very young. “See for yourself the shape of your hostages, Captain,” Yiv said, leaning on the word as he waved a casual hand over them. “You have the ransom?”

“I do,” Thrawn said. “The money is in an equipment pod, ready to send to your ship whenever my companions are in a shuttle. The two craft will cross the void together, of course.”

“I’m afraid you misunderstand, Captain,” Yiv said, and Qilori shivered at the smug malice in his tone. “The money isn’t the ransom. You are the ransom.”

“I see,” Thrawn said calmly. If he was surprised by the sudden treachery, it didn’t show in his face or voice. “Do you plan to shoot me down from there?”