“I understand all that, Admiral,” Pellaeon growled. “My concern is with your assumption that that Bothan on the Council can be relied upon to push things so close to your theoretical breakup point.
“Oh, he’ll push, all right,” Thrawn said, his smile turning sardonic as he gazed out at the battle blazing on around the enemy convoy. “I’ve spent many hours studying Bothan art, Captain, and I understand the species quite well. There’s no doubt at all that Councilor Fey’lya will play his part beautifully. As beautifully as if we were pulling his strings directly.”
He tapped a key on his board. “Starboard batteries: one of the Frigates in the convoy is easing into attack position. Assume it’s an armed backup and treat it accordingly. Squadrons A-2 and A-3, move to protect that flank until the Frigate has been neutralized.”
The batteries and TIE wing commander acknowledged, and some of the turbolaser fire began to track on the Frigate. “And what happens if Fey’lya wins?” Pellaeon persisted. “Quickly, I mean, before all this political confusion has a chance to set in. By your own analysis of the species, any Bothan who’s risen as high as Fey’lya has would have to be highly intelligent.”
“Intelligent, yes, but not necessarily in any way that’s dangerous to us,” Thrawn said. “He’d have to be a survivor, certainly, but that kind of verbal skill doesn’t necessarily translate into military competence.” He shrugged. “Actually, a victory by Fey’lya would merely prolong the whole awkward situation for the enemy. Given the kind of support Fey’lya’s been cultivating among the Rebellion military, the politicians would have to go through another polarizing struggle when they realized their mistake and tried to replace him.”
“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said, suppressing a sigh. It was the kind of tangled subtlety that he’d never really felt comfortable with. He just hoped the Grand Admiral was right about the potential gains; it would be a shame for Intelligence to have engineered such a brilliantly successful bank job and then not get anything of real value out of it.
“Trust me, Captain,” Thrawn said into his unspoken worries. “I dare say the wasting of political effort has already begun, in fact. Ackbar’s staunchest allies would hardly have left Coruscant at this critical point unless they were desperately searching for evidence to clear him.”
Pellaeon frowned at him. “Are you saying that Solo and Organa Solo are headed for the Palanhi system?”
“Solo only, I think,” Thrawn corrected thoughtfully.
“Organa Solo and the Wookiee are most likely still trying to find a place to hide from our Noghri. But Solo will be going to Palanhi, firmly convinced by Intelligence’s electronic sleight-of-hand that the trail leads through that system. Which is why the Death’s Head is on its way there right now.”
“I see,” Pellaeon murmured. He’d noticed that order on the daily log and had wondered why Thrawn was pulling one of their best Imperial Star Destroyers off battle duty. “I hope it will be equal to the task. Solo and Skywalker have both proved hard to trap in the past.”
“I don’t believe Skywalker is going to Palanhi,” Thrawn told him, his face settling into a somewhat sour expression. “Our esteemed Jedi Master apparently called it correctly. Skywalker has decided to pay a visit to Jomark.”
Pellaeon stared at him. “Are you sure, Admiral? I haven’t seen anything from Intelligence to that effect.”
“The information wasn’t from, Intelligence,” Thrawn said. “It came from Delta Source.
“Ah,” Pellaeon said, feeling his own expression go a little sour. The Chimaera’s Intelligence section had been nagging him for months now to find out what exactly this Delta Source was that seemed to feed such clear and precise information to the Grand Admiral from the very heart of the Imperial Palace. So far all Thrawn would say was that Delta Source was firmly established and that the information gained through it should be treated as absolutely reliable.
Intelligence hadn’t even been able to figure out whether Delta Source was a person, a droid, or some exotic recording system that was somehow able to elude the Rebellion’s hourly counter intelligence sweeps of the Palace. It irritated them no end; and Pellaeon had to admit he didn’t much like being kept in the dark about it, either. But Thrawn had personally activated Delta Source, and long years of unwritten protocol in such matters gave him the right to keep the contact confidential if he chose. “I’m sure C’baoth will be pleased to hear it,” he said. “I presume you’ll want to give him the news yourself.”