章節 3: Self-proclaimed successor (II)
"Captain Pellaeon!" The Chimera's commander took a deep breath, closing his eyes and ignoring Lieutenant Tshelya's scream echoing across the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer. "Captain Pellaeon!"
This is the problem with the current generation of Imperial military personnel—on the bridge are only youngsters who recently pored over textbooks in academies and training centers, and are now responsible for controlling a battleship.
Gilad mentally counted to ten—the exact amount of time it took the young lieutenant to move from the communications console to the central platform of the bridge. When Tshel was nearby, the captain, whose temples were already dominated by gray hair, gave him a hard look. It didn't help—Tshel looked like a dashing idiot and remained so. Eh, but Thrawn could, by his very presence on the bridge, instill in the crew a sense of subordination and force them to delve into their brains in search of the necessary articles of the Charter.
"What did I tell you about shouting on the bridge?" the captain asked, adding durasteel to his voice.
"This is not a livestock market; this is a compartment of a star destroyer, where it is not customary to yell," the lieutenant conveyed, clearly recalling their previous conversation following the escape from the Obroa-skai system. "Sorry, sir..."
"Two shifts in the officer's latrine will forgive you," Pellaeon promised, inwardly triumphing at the way the boy bit his lips. Proud, then? Well, well, they weren't the ones who returned to the rut. "What do you have, Lieutenant?"
"The course to Myrkr has been set, all systems are functioning normally," he reported without hesitation. "We'll get there faster than a Jedi can hang on the mountain..."
"Three shifts," Pellaeon corrected. "Lieutenant. You are in the army. Leave the jokes to civilians."
"Yes, sir," the officer said readily. "Shall I report the time of arrival to Myrkr to the Grand Admiral?"
"Why are you discussing the orders of the senior naval officer with me?" Pellaeon winced.
"It's just..." Lieutenant Tshel hesitated.
"It's just that even Gungans don't fight," Pellaeon flashed an aphorism from the times of the Clone Wars. "Essentially."
"The Grand Admiral did not leave any instructions," the lieutenant admitted. "It's strange because..."
"He usually demands to be kept informed of everything that happens," Pellaeon finished. "Dismissed, Lieutenant. I'll report myself."
From the very first day of his appearance aboard the Chimera, Thrawn introduced a number of unshakable rules—including the requirement that he be informed immediately when his orders were carried out. Throughout the year, with the patience of a teacher, he instilled this into the minds of the star destroyer crews, and now... he forgot to remind them of what he considered one of the pillars of shipboard discipline—awareness of a senior officer?
Or was it a test?
Or did something happen to the Grand Admiral?
Pellaeon tried to remember when Thrawn began to behave differently...
Today. Yes, exactly today. When he entered his quarters to report the success of the reconnaissance mission to Obroa-skai, Thrawn remained silent for too long, sitting with his eyes closed. And when he opened them, his reaction was completely atypical.
Thrawn did not avoid battles—he engaged in them easily and emerged victorious. Yet for some reason, he ordered the Chimera to retreat without firing a single shot. Yes, the crew was young and inexperienced. Yes, they faced four New Republic Nebulon-Bs and a squadron of X-wings... But the enemy didn't have a single interdictor cruiser! They could have taken the fight and given them a hard time... But Thrawn chose to retreat.
Now he forgot about his own order—since the ship went to FTL, he should have received a report from the watch commander...
And they are heading to some little-known planet, about which there is so little information in the ship's database that, apart from galactic coordinates and scant details about the suitability of the local atmosphere for breathing...
What's happening?!
Gilad stroked his mustache impatiently. It's completely unlike Thrawn to give instructions, demand their immediate execution, and then be the first to ignore them. No, of course, he is the commander here, but...
The middle-aged captain took off his uniform cap and smoothed his hair.
We need to stop racking our brains trying to find answers to what is happening.
Thrawn is impossible to understand—just when you think you've learned, he changes his mind. And you're a fool again.
One could only hope that in Grand Admiral Thrawn's unfolding campaign, the rebels would be left in the cold rather than achieving their usual success.
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