"Or refugees," she said, the disapproving edge growing a little sharper.

"And the missiles?"

"They didn't do the passengers much good, did they?"

"No, but it wasn't from lack of trying." Thrawn turned to Qennto. "And you, Captain? What'syour reading of this?"

"I don't know," Qennto said calmly. "And I don't especially care. They fired first, right?"

Thrawn shrugged microscopically. "Not entirely true," he said. "One of the sentries I had stationed here happened to be close enough as they came through to disable their hyperdrive. Car'das? Your opinion?"

Car'das looked around at the faded and motley walls. He might not have had a lot of schooling before running off to space, but he'd had enough to know when a teacher was still looking for an answer he hadn't yet gotten from anyone else.

But whatwas the answer? Maris was right; the ship did indeed look like it was falling apart. But Thrawn was right about the missiles, too. Would refugees have weapons like that?

And then, suddenly, it struck him. He looked behind him, locating the nearest alien body and doing a quick estimate of its height and reach. Another look at the wall, and he turned back to Thrawn. "These aren't the ones who did the repairs, are they?"

"Very good," Thrawn said, smiling faintly. "No, they aren't."

"What do you mean?" Qennto asked, frowning.

"These aliens are too tall," Car'das explained, pointing to the wall. "See here, where the sealant pattern changes texture? That's where whoever was slopping it on had to go get a ladder or floatpad to finish the job."

"And whoever that worker was, he was considerably shorter than the masters of this vessel." Thrawn turned back to Maris. "As you deduced, the vessel has indeed been repaired many times. But not by its owners."

Maris's lips compressed into a hard, thin line, her eyes suddenly cold as she looked back at the dead bodies. "They were slavers."

"Indeed," Thrawn said. "Are you still angry at me for killing them?"

Maris's face turned pink. "I'm sorry."

"I understand." Thrawn's eyebrows lifted slightly "You of the Republic don't condone slavery yourselves, do you?"

"No, of course not," Maris assured him hastily.

"We have droids to handle most menial chores," Car'das added.

"What are droids?"

"Mechanical workers that can think and act on their own," Car'das explained. "You must have something of the sort yourselves."

"Actually, we don't," Thrawn said, eyeing Car'das thoughtfully. "Nor do any of the alien cultures we've met. Can you show me one?"

Beside Maris, Qennto rumbled warningly in his throat. "We didn't bring any on this trip," Car'das said, ignoring his captain's thunderous expression. Qennto had warned him repeatedly not to discuss the Republic's technology level with the Chiss. But in Car'das's opinion this hardly qualified. Besides, Thrawn had surely already examined theBargain Hunter 's records, which must show a dozen different types of droids in action.

"A pity," Thrawn said. "Still, if the Republic has no slavery, how is it you understand the concept?"

Car'das grimaced. "We do know a few cultures where it exists," he admitted reluctantly

"And your people permit this?"

"The Republic hasn't got much pull with systems that aren't members," Qennto put in impatiently. "Look, are we done here yet?"

"Not quite," Thrawn said, gesturing toward the door he'd just come through. "Come and look."

More bodies? Steeling himself, determined not to go all woozy again even if the whole place was piled high with them, Car'das stepped past the commander and through the doorway.

And stopped short, his mouth dropping open in amazement. The room was unexpectedly large, with a high ceiling that must have stretched up at least two of the ship's decks.

But it wasn't piled high with bodies. It was piled high with treasure.

Treasure of all kinds, too. There were piles of metal ingots of various colors and sheens, neatly stacked inside acceleration webbing. There were rows of bins, some filled with coins or multicolored gems, others stocked with rectangular packages that might have been food or spices or electronics. Several heavy-looking cabinets against one wall probably held items that would have been too tempting to leave within easy reach of the slaves or perhaps even the crew itself.

There was also a good deal of artwork: flats, sculpts, tressles, and other forms and styles Car'das couldn't even categorize. Most of it was stacked together, but he could see a few pieces scattered around throughout the room, as if some of the loaders either hadn't recognized them as art or else hadn't much cared where they put them.

There was a sharp intake of air and a slightly strangled gasp as Qennto and Maris came in behind him. "What in theworlds? " Maris breathed.

"A treasure vessel, carrying the plunder of many worlds," Thrawn said, slipping into the room behind them. "They were not only slavers, but pirates and raiders as well."

With an effort, Car'das pulled his eyes away from the treasure trove and focused on Thrawn. "You sound like you already know these people."

"Only by reputation," Thrawn said, his almost gentle tone in sharp contrast to the tightness in his face as he gazed across the room. "At least, up until now."

"You've been hunting them?"

A slight frown creased Thrawn's forehead. "Of course not," he said. "The Vagaari have made no move against the Chiss Ascendancy. We therefore have no reason to hunt them."

"But you know their name," Qennto murmured.

"As I said, I know their reputation," Thrawn said. "They've been moving through this region of space for at least the past ten years, preying mostly on the weak and the technologically primitive."

"What about their slaves?" Maris asked. "Do you know anything about them?"

Thrawn shook his head. "We haven't found any aboard this vessel. From that, and from this room, I presume they were en route to their main base."

"And they off-loaded the slaves to keep them from finding out where that base is?" Car'das suggested.

"Exactly," Thrawn said. "The crew complement is smaller than one would expect for a vessel of this size, as well. That indicates they weren't expecting trouble, but instead intended to go straight home."