Pellaeon thought back to that awkward scene a month ago, when that painfully apologetic envoy from the Noghri dynasts had come aboard with the news that the suspected traitor Khabarakh had escaped from their custody. So far, despite their best efforts, they’d been unable to recapture him. “Perhaps they’re still fidgeting over that Khabarakh thing,” he suggested.
“And well they should be,” Thrawn said coldly. “But it’s more than that. And until I find out how much more, the Noghri will remain under suspicion.” —The Last Command
----------------------------------------------------
The Lambda-class shuttle settled to the deck of the Chimaera’s hangar bay, landing with only a slight bump. From where he stood beside Thrawn Pellaeon watched as the twin rows of stormtroopers moved into position on either side of the shuttle’s entry ramp, their blaster rifles held high against their chests. It was an impressive little piece of parade-ground exercise…and entirely pointless, in Pellaeon’s opinion. This kind of thing was totally wasted on Noghri.
He looked past the shuttle, where the brown and rather dull-looking horizon of Honoghr could be seen rotating beneath the Chimaera. Appearing every bit as dead as it actually was. Dimly Pellaeon considered what would happen if the Noghri ever managed to figure out the Empire‘s little role in the real fate of their world…or if somebody ever told them.
Without thinking he cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder. Less than five meters away, Rukh was in his usual position behind Thrawn, his narrow eyes attentive and darting everywhere. But Pellaeon wasn’t looking at him. Ten meters behind Rukh C’baoth stood watching the whole affair, a look of mild amusement plastered on his face. C’baoth, who had even less respect for the Noghri than Pellaeon did.
Apparently Pellaeon’s glance hadn’t been surreptitious enough. “Ignore him, Captain,” Thrawn murmured, and Pellaeon realized the Admiral was giving him a surreptitious look of his own. With an effort Pellaeon turned his attention back to the shuttle.
Besides, he reminded himself, it wasn’t as if Thawn hadn’t taken precautions. Standing beside Rukh, his blaster rifle held high against his chest, was a stormtrooper with a ysalamir nutrient frame on his back.
The hissing of the shuttle’s released steam brought Pellaeon back to the matter at hand. The shuttle’s ramp was already lowering, and Pellaeon could see dark figures moving around inside. Thrawn gestured, and with Pellaeon on one side, a silent Rukh on the other, and the stormtrooper following behind they walked down the line.
But to Pellaeon’s surprise it wasn’t the commando Khabarakh who emerged first, or his guards. Pellaeon watched as a long line of older, darker-skinned Noghri filed down the ramp, dressed in the elaborate tunics of clan leaders. The dynasts, if he recognized them correctly from that ridiculous ceremony at the Grand Dukha a month ago.
Pellaeon studied them more closely as the last reached the bottom of the ramp. There was something off about them, he realized. Something he couldn’t quite place…
“Lord Grand Admiral,” the dynast in the front said, bowing so low his head almost touched the deck. “It is a pleasure to see you returned to Honoghr once again.”
“You may rise, Dynast Vor’corkh,” Thrawn said, waiving a hand. If he was surprised to see them, it didn’t show in his voice. “I have come only to claim the traitor Khabarakh. There was no need for the dynasts to bring him themselves.”
“We wished to pay you the respect and homage our lord deserves,” Vor’corkh said awkwardly.
“Of course you did,” Thrawn said, a touch dryly. His eyes scanned the crowd of dynasts for a second before moving to the shuttle‘s entry, and now Pellaeon thought he head a touch of suspicion in his voice. “Tell me: where is Khabarakh?”
There was a ripple of embarrassment among the dynasts, and Pellaeon could see Vor’corkh was visibly disturbed. “I confess we do not know, my lord. Ten days ago he escaped our custody and fled Nystao. We have come to tell you, and to seek your forgiveness.”
“Escaped!” C’baoth snorted from where he was standing. “Your precious Noghri find new ways in which to fail you, Grand Admiral.” Vor’corkh’s eyes flashed angrily towards him—
“Peace, Master C’baoth,” Thrawn said, raising a hand. He studied Vor’corkh and the other dynasts carefully, and Pellaeon joined him. Their embarrassment seemed obvious, even to someone as unfamiliar with the Noghri as Pellaeon was. But there was still something about them that was bothering him… “You say Khabarakh escaped,” Thrawn continued. “How?”
“Not without assistance,” Vor’corkh assured him quickly. “He was aided by family members of the clan Kihm’bar.”
“I see,” Thrawn said. He cast another look over the dynasts… “Is that then why Dynast Irk’haim has declined to join you?”
That was it, Pellaeon realized. When they‘d last been to Nystao there had been thirteen dynasts to greet Thrawn. But only twelve had filed out of the shuttle. The dynast for Khabarakh‘s clan was missing. “The entire clan Kihm’bar has been held in disgrace,” one of the other dynasts spoke up, “until the names of the perpetrators are revealed.”
“A just punishment,” Thrawn agreed—but Pellaeon thought he heard something else in his voice. “I trust a pursuit has been organized?”
“We have already dispatched three commando squads to capture him,” Vor’corkh offered in what Pellaeon assumed was supposed to be a helpful manner. “They will report to us as soon as they have acquired him. He will not escape for long.”
“Good,” Thrawn said, “but I think maybe something else besides more commandos is needed. I will have one of my Strike Cruisers reassigned, to join them in the pursuit.”
“That will not be necessary, my lord,” another dynast interjected before Vor’corkh could silence him. “Our commandos will find him.”
“I’m sure that they will,” Thrawn said, and now the clear tone of displeasure was evident in his voice. “I will nevertheless have one of our own cruisers join them, just the same. To provide logistical support," he suggested, "and whatever other assistance they might need.”
Vor’corkh bowed. “As you wish, my lord.”
Thrawn was silent for another moment. “Very well,” he said at last. “Then you may now return to Honoghr.”
The dynasts bowed again. Then, one-by-one, they turned and headed back toward the shuttle. “A Strike Cruiser?” Pellaeon murmured. “Is that really necessary, Admiral?”
“You think perhaps it’s a tad overkill, Captain?” Thrawn suggested politely.
Pellaeon hesitated. “I‘ll admit this Khabarakh has been something of a wild card,” he said, watching the dynasts file back up the ramp. “But three commando squads and a cruiser strike me as a bit much to hunt down a single Noghri.”
Thrawn watched them, too, his eyes studious. “There’s something about this that doesn’t seem right,” he said softly. “There’s already Khabarakh’s strange history regarding that missing month on Kashyyyk. Now days before an interrogation of our own he magically escapes his Noghri guards? It’s too intriguing to dismiss.”
“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said. “Will you be conducting any inquiries into the clan Kihm’bar while we’re here? Perhaps we can discover the identities of whomever helped Khabarakh escape.”
“Interrogate an entire clan?” Thrawn shook his head. “No. That would gain us nothing. The perpetrators themselves obviously won’t speak, and family ties are far too strong among the Noghri for them to betray one of their own. Fortunately we have another option available to us.”
“You mean the decon droid we left in Khabarakh’s village?”
“Precisely. It’s very possible the droid recorded something that may be of use to us. Have Surveillance wait till nightfall, then send a shuttle down to retrieve it.”
“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said, giving the dynasts’ own shuttle another quick look. The last of them had made it inside, and it was already rising up off the deck and turning back toward the hangar port. “Where do you think he’ll go?”
“Khabarakh? That’s difficult to say. Any of the usual commando safehouses will of course be closed to him. Depending on the true nature of his relationship with the Wookiees, it’s possible he may return to Kashyyyk. Don’t worry, Captain. Wherever he’s gone, our forces will find him.”
The shuttle had finally cleared the Chimaera’s atmospheric barrier and was heading back down toward the planet’s surface. Thrawn and Pellaeon turned around—
To find C’baoth standing directly in front of them, a wide and condescending smile behind his beard. “Master C’baoth?” Thrawn raised an eyebrow. “You wish to add something to our conversation?”
That smile got a little wider. “I do, Grand Admiral,” he said. “It seems the Noghri find new ways to fail you. And you, in turn, find new ways to fail me.”
“That remains to be seen,” Thrawn said. “But that was not what you wished to add.”
C’baoth studied him from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “No,” he conceded. “Tell me: what hope do the Noghri have of capturing Organa Solo, when they cannot even capture one of their own?”
“The Noghri have been uncharacteristically ineffective when it’s come to this particular assignment, I‘ll admit,” Thrawn said. “And I have communicated my displeasure accordingly. What else would you have me do?”
“Accept that a different strategy is needed.” C’baoth’s eyes moved past Thrawn’s shoulder, where the diminutive figure of Rukh stood silently. “The Noghri had their chance, and failed. The time for a new approach has come.”
“The Noghri are some of the best soldiers the Empire has,” Thrawn insisted. “In forty years they’ve never once failed.” He paused. “But I will take your suggestion under advisement, Master C‘baoth.”
“See that you do,” C’baoth urged, his tone deep with warning. “Because the time may come when I will not be content to simply ignore your failures. The time may come when I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.”
He spun around in a swirl of robes and started toward the aft lift. “I think we may have just had a dressing down, Admiral,” Pellaeon noted once C’baoth was out of earshot.
“Yes,” Thrawn agreed dryly, “apparently our esteemed Jedi Master no longer has faith in our abilities to bring him his Jedi.” His eyes glowed a little more fiercely. “And yet, Master C’baoth may be right. The Noghri have failed far too much when it’s come to Skywalker and Organa Solo.”
Pellaeon glanced behind them at Rukh, hoping they were too far away for the Noghri to hear. “They’ve never had to go up against Jedi,” Pellaeon reminded him.
“A fair point,” Thrawn allowed. “Still, the Noghri are only one tool. We have many available to us.”
Like Delta Source? But Pellaeon didn’t ask, and Thrawn didn’t say. “For the time being, however, we have other matters to attend to,” the Admiral continued. “Return to the bridge, Captain. We’ll remain in orbit long enough for Surveillance to retrieve the decon droid, but then I‘m afraid we have more important concerns than Skywalker and Organa Solo. Our war against the Rebels awaits.”
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