Treason (Star Wars: Thrawn #3)

by Timothy Zahn

“Hardly a secret one,” Savit said. “But yes, I think the Empire would benefit more from a few million advanced starfighters than from your precious Death Star.” He paused, enjoying the flicker of shock that crossed Krennic’s face. The true name of Stardust’s end product was a deep, dark secret, and Savit wasn’t supposed to be among the handful of top people who knew it. “I’m sorry—was that supposed to be a secret?” he added genially.

Ronan scowled. His working assumption had always been that people in positions of power and authority were lazy or incompetent or both, Director Krennic being the sole exception. Now Governor Haveland had added felonious to that list. There would be a certain satisfaction in turning Vanto over to the navy. But there would be far greater satisfaction in watching ISB haul Haveland off in binders. He snorted and blanked the display, sending the data back to Faro’s secure folder. Time to sort all that out later. Standing up, he crossed to the door and walked out into the aft bridge. And stopped short just outside the office door, his breath freezing in his throat. The bridge and aft bridge were bustling with activity—apparently, the Chimaera was preparing for action of some sort. Standing on the command walkway, a circle of calm in the middle of the commotion, were Thrawn and Vanto. Standing beside them in the midst of that calm were Ar’alani and the girl Vah’nya. The frozen breath inside Ronan turned instantly to boiling blood. This was an Imperial Star Destroyer, the very symbol of the Empire’s strength and determination. Thrawn had no business—he had no right—to bring outsiders to the heart of that power.

“We show deference to our Primary, and to others who’ve earned it,” Pik said. “We have a mission, and we’ll fulfill it. Don’t expect any more.”

Ronan glared at him. That kind of unwanted initiative wasn’t exactly praised under Director Krennic’s administration, especially when such thoughtless actions could jeopardize more important operations. In this case, moving everyone away from the Brylan Ross could draw attention to both the freighter and its data backtrail, which could open up access to the whole Stardust supply line.

He looked at Thrawn. “Can you imagine what the twenty-two I’ve saved would add to the Chimaera’s defenses? Or the Firedrake’s, or the new Star Dreadnought class Lord Vader’s been pushing for? What could you do with the weapons and matériel—with the sheer number of credits—that are going into Stardust? The TIE Defenders, certainly; but how many other vital projects have been scrapped to feed Krennic’s insatiable appetite?” “So you steal from Stardust in order to equip other ships?” Thrawn asked. “I steal from Stardust so that not everything Krennic has poured money into goes up in smoke and flame or scrap metal,” Savit said. “I want something from Stardust to end up being useful to the navy.” “So ultimately you did this out of loyalty to the Empire,” Thrawn said. “Is that how you see this?” Ronan demanded. “No. What he did was treason, pure and simple.” “Treason, yes,” Thrawn said. “But hardly simple. Tell me, Admiral: What would you do if I offered you a chance to redeem yourself?” Savit studied him. That blue face and those red eyes were hard to read, but he seemed sincere. “Explain.”

“My point, Assistant Director,” Thrawn said quietly, “is that you may hide your contempt for the Emperor from Director Krennic and those hundred people you mention. But you will not be able to hide it from Lord Vader.” A fist seemed to close around Ronan’s heart. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he protested reflexively. “Of course you do,” Thrawn said. “You have three choices. You may return to Director Krennic and hope you can hide your true feelings from Lord Vader. Or you may resign from Stardust and travel as far away from the project as you can.” Ronan grimaced. Only he couldn’t. The mere suggestion that someone at his level wanted to leave would raise warning signals all the way to Wild Space and back. He would be taken in and questioned…and the end result would be the same. Which he had no doubt Thrawn knew perfectly well. “And my third choice?” he asked between stiff lips. “You travel with Admiral Ar’alani to the Chiss Ascendancy.” Ronan felt his mouth drop open. “What? Why in the galaxy would I do that?”