Thrawn stopped, and for a long moment Yiv just gazed at him in silence. “Absurdity,” he said at last. “The Vaks won’t move this quickly. They can’t. They consider all thought lines. All thought lines.”

Thrawn shook his head. “No. What they consider—”

“Curse!” Yiv cut him off, his gaze snapping back and forth to unseen displays around him. “No! They can’t be. The Vaks—” He snarled something else, and suddenly the image blanked.

“What’s going on?” Qilori asked, his cheek winglets quivering. Three minutes ago, the Benevolent had had everything completely under control. What in the Depths was happening out there?

“I assume Admiral Ar’alani has finished her negotiations,” Thrawn said, his voice glacially calm, “and that the Vaks have given permission for her to fire on the Nikardun blockade ships.”

“The blockade ships? But—” Qilori strangled off the reflexive protest. Of course a mere Pathfinder hireling wouldn’t know that Yiv’s current plans for Primea didn’t include a blockade. “There’s a blockade?”

“Presumably merely to prevent anyone from blundering into our conversation,” Thrawn said, a little too drily. “But of course the Vaks don’t know that. They see only that by imposing his will on Primea’s commerce, Yiv has denied them important thought lines.”

He turned to Qilori, an odd and discomfiting intensity in those glowing red eyes. “Tell me, Pathfinder. Do you think Yiv will meekly stand by and watch his Primea fleet be destroyed?”

“I don’t know,” Qilori said helplessly. What was he supposed to say? “I suppose it depends on whether he can afford to lose the ships.”

“You offer the wrong question,” Thrawn said. “Of course he can afford to lose the ships. The true question is whether he can allow the Vaks to see him bow to Chiss will and cower before Chiss might.”

“Surely all the ships at Primea are smaller vessels,” Qilori said. “It’s no disgrace to lose small warships to large ones.”

“It is if there are larger ships available and their commander refuses to risk them.”

“Maybe the Vaks don’t know he has bigger ships.”

“Of course they do,” Thrawn chided. “He just said that they did.”

Qilori silently cursed at himself. It had been a stupid, stupid thing to say. “I just meant—”

“But these are just worksheet details,” Thrawn interrupted. “The answer is, no, he can’t afford for Primea to see his weakness.” He nodded toward the viewport. “As you see.”

“As I see?” Qilori repeated, following Thrawn’s gaze. The four Nikardun Battle Dreadnoughts arrayed against them…

Had become just one. The Deathless was still there, its awesome weaponry still turned toward Thrawn’s freighter. But the other three Battle Dreadnoughts were gone.

“That should make the battle a bit more of a challenge,” Thrawn commented, touching the comm switch. “Provided Admiral Ar’alani hasn’t made too much of a mess of the Nikardun blockade ships. General, are you still there?”