“A blazing-star hero of the Mitth?” Thrawn smiled. “Trust me. If they could have announced you as a ranking distant, they would have. But that time will come.”

“Maybe,” Thalias said.

“Sure it will,” Che’ri said. “We’re heroes. Captain Thrawn just said so.”

“You are indeed.” Thrawn stood up. “And now I need to get back to the bluedock. The Springhawk’s going to need extensive repairs, and I’m told the foreman would like me there in person to hear his report.”

“Thank you for coming by,” Thalias said. “Che’ri and I wanted to hear how it had all ended, but no one had time to talk to us.”

“You’re welcome,” Thrawn said. “I hope you’ll be able to join us aboard the Springhawk again in the near future.”

“If we have anything to say about it, we will,” Thalias promised.

Though that assumed, of course, that she would be allowed to continue as Che’ri’s caregiver. Right now, that was anything but certain.

“Then take care,” he said. Nodding to each of them, he turned and walked through the hatchway.

Thalias watched him go, the Patriarch’s words echoing through her mind. And watch over your commander. I cannot help but feel that he holds the key to the Ascendancy’s future, whether that future be triumph or ultimate destruction.

“Thalias?”

Thalias turned back to see Che’ri frowning at a yapel she’d picked up. “Yes?”

Che’ri eyed the snack another moment, then set it back down on the plate. “I’m finished with these,” she said. “Can I have some real food now?”

“You certainly may,” Thalias said, smiling. “What exactly would you like?”

The trance abruptly ended, and with a start Qilori found himself wrenched from the Great Presence.

He blinked open his eyes. He was still on the bridge of his current ship, nestled into a configured navigator’s seat.

But the lights and displays that should have shown position and status were blank. Somehow, the power to the flight and navigation systems had been shut down.

And as he pulled off his headset, he saw to his surprise that the bridge was deserted. “Hello?” he called tentatively.

No answer. “Hello?” he repeated, staring out the viewport as he fumbled for his straps. The ship was floating dead in space, squarely in the middle of nowhere, with no nearby stars or planets that he could see. What in the Depths had happened? “Is anyone there?”

“Greetings, Qilori of Uandualon,” a cultured voice came from the bridge speaker. “Forgive the interruption in our journey, but I wished to speak to you in private.”

“Of course,” Qilori managed, his winglets fluttering harder than they had since Thrawn’s grand confrontation with the Benevolent two months ago. “Yes. I—may I ask your name?”

“You may not,” the voice said calmly. “Tell me about Yiv the Benevolent.”