So Thalias would give the girl time, and space, and probably more time. Eventually, hopefully, she would come around.

And if she still didn’t know what she wanted for lunch by the time Thalias returned, it would be nut-paste sandwiches. Even if Che’ri didn’t read, surely she at least liked nut-paste sandwiches.

Thrawn was taller than Samakro had expected, and carried himself with grace and a certain air of confidence. He was also courteous to the officers and warriors, and knew his way around the Springhawk. Aside from that, he really wasn’t that big a deal.

Right now, he was also late.

“Approaching target system,” Kharill reported. “Breakout in thirty seconds.”

“Acknowledged,” Samakro said, looking around the bridge. All weapons systems showed green, including the balky plasma sphere targeting computer that had been giving them trouble for the past few days. All air lock doors were sealed against possible breach, the electrostatic barrier that hugged the Springhawk’s hull was at power, and all warriors were at their stations.

Impressive, but hardly really necessary. As far as Samakro could tell, this whole mission was only a small step above a wargame exercise. The Vigilant was a full-class Nightdragon man-of-war, and Admiral Ar’alani’s current force also included five other cruisers besides the Springhawk. With that much firepower, appearing without warning over the Paataatus homeworld, they weren’t likely to face any effective resistance.

None of which meant that Springhawk and its crew should be anything less than fully professional here, of course. And that professionalism included its captain. If Thrawn wasn’t here by the time they left hyperspace, Samakro would just have to take over—

“Stand ready,” Thrawn’s calm voice came from behind him.

Samakro turned, fighting back a reflexive twitch. How in hell had Thrawn sneaked onto the bridge without him hearing the hatch open? “Captain,” he greeted his superior. “I was starting to think you’d missed the alert.”

“I’ve been here for the past hour,” Thrawn said, sounding mildly surprised that Samakro hadn’t noticed. “I was overseeing the work on the sphere targeting computer.”

Samakro looked over at the plasma sphere console as two techs emerged into sight from behind it. “Ah. I see it shows green now.”

“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “The quality of the Springhawk’s repair and maintenance crews has improved considerably since you were placed in command.”

Samakro felt his eyes narrow. A compliment? Or a subtle reminder that Thrawn was the ship’s captain now?

“Any last-minute instructions from the Vigilant?” Thrawn continued.

“Nothing since the last jump,” Samakro said. Probably a compliment, he decided. Thrawn didn’t strike him as the gloating sort. “Just Ar’alani’s usual warning to be ready for anything.”

“I believe we are,” Thrawn said. “Breakout…now.”

Through the viewport, Samakro saw the star-flares flash and shrink, bringing the Springhawk out of hyperspace.

Into a storm of laserfire.