“True enough,” Ba’kif conceded. “Well. Until the syndics decide to write specifics into the law, I suppose we can treat it as a gray area.” He tapped the questis. “In the meantime, what kind of hellish nighthunter nest have you just kicked over?”

“A nighthunter nest that I believe will soon be hunting us,” Thrawn said grimly. “They clearly know about the Ascendancy. They also feel confident enough in their own strength to slaughter a refugee ship right on our threshold. And”—he gestured to the questis—“they’re already moving into our outer neighborhood.”

Ba’kif huffed out a breath, looking back at the questis as if the data on it might suddenly change to something less disquieting. “You’re sure they’ve had contact with the Lioaoin Regime?” he asked. “I looked at all the indicators you marked, and I confess I can’t see whatever it is you think you’ve found.”

“It’s there, sir,” Thrawn said. “It’s subtle, but it’s there.”

“What we don’t know,” Ar’alani put in, “is whether this is evidence that they’ve been to the Lioaoin heartworld itself or whether they’ve just picked up some Lioaoi art and artistic influences along the way from someone else.”

“That’s why we need to go to the heartworld in person,” Thrawn said. “I need to examine the local situation, and I can’t do that from transmission analysis or even third-person investigator reports.”

“You know what the Syndicure will say about anyone going to the Lioaoin Regime,” Ba’kif warned. “Especially you two.”

“That’s why we wanted to keep it quiet,” Ar’alani said. “And the Expansionary Fleet does have a fair degree of flexibility in its duties.”

“Which I’m no longer in direct command of,” Ba’kif reminded her, glancing with an odd sort of wistfulness around his new Csilla office.

Ar’alani could sympathize. This office was bigger than his old Expansionary Defense Fleet office on Naporar, as befit his newly exalted position as the Ascendancy’s top general.

But the office was on Csilla, which meant that it was not only under the planet’s frozen surface, but also within downwind spitting distance of the Syndicure and the rest of the Ascendancy’s governmental centers.

And just because the Aristocra weren’t supposed to interfere with military matters didn’t mean they were pleasant to be around.

“But you are in overall command of personnel in the fleet,” Thrawn pointed out. “A directive from you would surely be acknowledged and carried out.”

“The Springhawk is undergoing hull repairs, but we could take the Vigilant,” Ar’alani said. “Thrawn could come aboard as an officer or even just as a passenger and take a quick, unobtrusive look.”