“That’s certainly going to be my strategy,” Ar’alani said. “Just be careful you don’t spiral too far and end up staring into your own laser. Some of the Aristocra have honed that tactic into a fine art, and very much know it when they see it.”

Wutroow chuckled. “A fine art. Thrawn should like that.”

“Not the kind of art he excels at, unfortunately,” Ar’alani said. “Just watch yourself. If they can’t have his blood, they may try to get some of ours.”

“I don’t think we have to worry too much, Admiral,” Wutroow said. “Remember the old saying: The sky is always darkest—”

“—just before it goes completely black,” Ar’alani finished for her. “Yes, I had that same instructor at the academy.”

And then they were there. The door wards pulled on the rings, swinging the heavy panels open—more psychological dramatics—revealing the witness table and two chairs facing the darkened semicircle where the group of syndics silently sat awaiting them. Putting a note of confidence into her step, Ar’alani walked to the table and stood behind one of the chairs, Wutroow taking up position beside her. “Syndics of the Chiss Ascendancy, I greet you,” Ar’alani called, making sure her voice held the same confidence as her step. “I am Admiral Ar’alani, currently in command of the Vigilant and Picket Force Six of the Expansionary Defense Fleet. This is my first officer, Senior Captain Kiwu’tro’owmis.”

“Greetings, Admiral; Senior Captain,” a voice said from the ring.

And suddenly the darkness blazed with light.

Ar’alani blinked a couple of times as her eyes adjusted, a back corner of her mind appreciating this final gambit. The syndics had no need to cower in darkness; they could face anyone in the Ascendancy without fear.

“Please be seated,” another voice said. “We have just a few questions for you.”

“We stand ready to answer,” Ar’alani said, pulling out her chair and sitting down, her eyes flicking across the table. None of the faces were familiar to her, but the family nameplates at the front edge of the table told her everything she needed to know. Six families had been chosen for this particular tribunal, as usual comprising a mix of the Nine and the Great: the Irizi, Ar’alani’s old family; the Kiwu, Wutroow’s current family; plus the Clarr, Plikh, Ufsa, and Droc.

Conspicuous by its absence was Thrawn’s family, the Mitth.

Conspicuous and suspicious. The fact that Thrawn himself wasn’t here had probably been the others’ excuse for keeping the Mitth out of the questioning. But given that he was clearly the focus of the interrogation, the Mitth should have insisted on being present.

Unless they’d already decided among themselves that Thrawn was a liability and were throwing him to the nighthunters. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d considered that path.