Thrawn led the way to the aft stairway and descended to the starboard crew pit. He walked past the crewers at their consoles, past the officers standing stiffly behind them, and came to a halt at the control station for the starboard tractor beams. “Your name,” he said quietly to the young man standing at rigid attention there.
“Ensign Mithel,” the other said, his face pale but composed. The expression of a man facing his death.
“Tell me what happened, Ensign.”
Mithel swallowed. “Sir, I had just established a positive lock on the freighter when it broke up into a cluster of trac-reflective particles. The targeting system tried to lock on all of them at once and went into a loop snarl.”
“And what did you do?”
“Sir, I knew that if I waited for the particles to dissipate normally, the target starfighter would be out of range. So I tried to dissipate them myself by shifting the tractor beam into sheer-plane mode.”
“It didn’t work.”
A quiet sigh slipped through Mithel’s lips. “No, sir. The target-lock system couldn’t handle it. It froze up completely.”
“Yes.” Thrawn cocked his head slightly. “You’ve had a few moments now to consider your actions, Ensign. Can you think of anything you should have done instead?”
The young man’s lip twitched. “No, sir. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I don’t remember anything in the manual that covers this kind of situation.”
Thrawn nodded. “Correct,” he agreed. “There isn’t anything. Several methods have been suggested over the past few decades for counteracting the covert shroud gambit, none of which has ever been made practical. Yours was one of the more innovative attempts, particularly given how little time you had to come up with it. The fact that it failed does not in any way diminish that.”
A look of cautious disbelief was starting to edge into Mithel’s face. “Sir?”
“The Empire needs quick and creative minds, Ensign,” Thrawn said. “You’re hereby promoted to lieutenant … and your first assignment is to find a way to break a covert shroud. After their success here, the Rebellion may try the gambit again.”
“Yes, sir,” Mithel breathed, the color starting to come back into his face. “Thank you, sir.”
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Mithel.” Thrawn nodded to him, then turned to Pellaeon.