The alien gave another whinny, a shorter one this time. “If you sought to build a home here, you chose unwisely. Even now, it may be too late for you to reverse that error.”

“We did not come to live,” Thrawn said. “As I said, we are explorers. We search the Chaos for artwork of the lost and forgotten.”

The mottling pattern of the alien’s skin changed. “You search for artwork?”

“Artwork reflects the soul of a species,” Thrawn said. “We seek to preserve that echo for those unable to preserve it on their own.”

One of the other aliens spoke in their language. “He speaks that there is no artwork here,” the spokesman translated.

“Perhaps there is more art woven into the design than he realizes,” Thrawn said. “But I am puzzled. I see no evidence of catastrophe or destruction. On the contrary, the station appears completely functional. Why did you abandon it?”

“We did not abandon it,” the spokesman said, his voice noticeably deeper. “We were sent away by those who seek dominance over Rapacc and the Paccosh.”

“Rapacc is your world, then?” Thrawn asked. “And you are the Paccosh?”

“We are,” the spokesman said. “At least, for this current moment. The Paccosh may yet cease to exist. The future of each and every Pacc rests in the hands of the Nikardun, and we fear to contemplate it.”

“The Nikardun are those who followed us across your system?” Thrawn asked.

Another whinny. “If you believe they merely followed you, your ignorance is indeed deep. Their intent was to capture or destroy you.”

Thalias felt a shiver run up her back. As far as she could remember, she’d never heard even a hint of information about a species with that name. Definitely outside the immediate neighborhood, and very likely outside even the wider region the Expansionary Fleet had explored.

And if this was how they introduced themselves—blocking access to whole systems and chasing down and slaughtering anyone who succeeded in leaving—they weren’t likely to become friends of the Ascendancy anytime soon.

“Yet they must hold you and your world in loose hands,” she pointed out, the angular Taarja words hurting her mouth. Taarja had been her least favorite trade language during her schooling, but the Mitth family insisted that their merit adoptives learn all the region’s most common forms of communication. “Otherwise, how are you here speaking with us?”

“You think we traveled here of our own free will?” the spokesman asked, ducking his head just a bit toward her. “You think we ourselves removed the weapons and defenses from the ship we arrived in? Hardly. The Nikardun ships guarding the approaches to Rapacc did not recognize the design of your ship. They thought this station might still have sensors running that may have gleaned important details when your ship passed nearby. We were ordered here to learn if such records were indeed made.”

“Were they correct?” Thrawn asked.