Daala clasped her leather-gloved hands in front of her and nodded. "Very well," she said. "By that time we'll be finished here--but it's good to know all those ships weren't destroyed." She forced herself not to show her immense relief at avoiding yet another disastrous failure. It felt so good to be victorious at last!
Daala leaned closer to the bridge window and slapped one fist into her open palm. "So let's redouble our efforts and be celebrating our victory by the time the vice admiral gets here!"
She drew a deep breath, swelling with pride and satisfaction. At last, Grand Moff Tarkin would have been pleased with how she had redeemed herself. She had done everything right this time, and the Rebels would pay in blood. At that moment, the rear portion of the Super Star Destroyer exploded, tearing out all the Knight Hammer's engine systems.
It took seconds for the shockwave to travel through the kilometers of armored metal and sealed bulkheads. The bridge tower shuddered with the blow. Power went out, leaving the command station bathed in red emergency lights. Daala was thrown to the floor.
The Victory'-class Star Destroyers continued to pursue the Rebel Star Cruiser. The bolts of their turbolaser fire showered fireworks across the Knight Hammer's bow. For a moment they didn't realize what had happened--and neither did Daala.
"What was that?" she shouted. "Status report. I want power back on--now!"
Several members of her bridge crew lay stunned or unconscious from the explosion, and one had been crushed to death under a toppled tactical station. Alarms continued pounding.
The fresh-faced lieutenant hauled himself up to a station that was not his own and valiantly punched up a summary in the bloody glow of emergency lights. His face looked stricken with horror. "Admiral, there have been numerous massive explosions in the engine compartments! Source--rear TIE bomber bays 14 and 17. The inner engine walls have been breached, and all our propulsion chambers are wrecked. We're on fire. The rearmost third of the Knight Hammer has been sealed off by automatic emergency systems. Life support ... has failed."
He paused, taking a deep breath, but he had not finished his litany. "Outer hull breaches reported in decks 293, 181, and 75. Massive loss of containment. Toxic and radioactive wastes pouring into the habitable decks. Our rear bomber bays are all ruined."
Each phrase seemed like a slap to Daala. "How could this happen?" she demanded.
The lieutenant stared at her, mouth open, eyes glassy. "Unknown, Admiral. It seems impossible."
But Daala knew the only answer--direct sabotage. Such wide-spread destruction could not have been accidental.
Several of the Victory'-class Star Destroyers broke off their pursuit of Ackbar's ship. The comm system squawked. "Knight Hammer, Knight Hammer-- please respond!" She recognized the voice of one of the Victory commanders, though she couldn't place his name in her sudden shock. "Admiral Daala, your ship is in flames. From out here it's--it looks hopeless, Admiral."
She lurched to the communication station. "Where is Colonel Cronus?" she said. "We need him to double his efforts. We may require rescue assistance."
The commander's voice cracked. "Colonel Cronus's flagship was destroyed in the Rebel attack, Admiral. I believe--I'm not certain who is now in command--”
“I am in command!" Daala snapped, but then she slumped backward as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Pellaeon wouldn't be here for days. Cronus was dead. The Knight Hammer had been severely damaged.
Everything had changed in a matter of minutes.
She whirled, shouting to anyone on the bridge. "How long until repairs? When can we get our engines up and running again?"
One of the engineers gaped at her, appalled. Blood dripped down his cheek from a small cut near his temple. "Admiral, you don't understand! Our engines are gone. It will take months to refit. We have no hope of repair. None. Everything is on fire."
"We have no propulsion?" Daala said.
"None whatsoever. We're drifting out of control, and there's nothing we can do about it.
Nothing!"
Daala raged, turning from side to side. She held her gloved fists at her hips but could find no outlet for her fury. "We can't navigate? We can't move?" she shouted, and then turned slowly to her viewscreen as the immense gas giant filled their full view, growing larger every second. The Knight Hammer drifted along on a tidal wave of momentum, following its last course ... but it began to turn, tugged by the unbreakable chains of gravity from enormous Yavin.
Her green eyes seemed to fill with steam from within. "Check our course," she whispered. "Tell me I'm wrong."
The navigator stared out the window as if he had seen and understood the same horrible fate that Daala imagined.
She shouted to snap him out of his daze. "Check our course, I said!"
He jerked, startled, then scrambled to call up the screens he needed. "Computers are down, Admiral. Let me double-check." He punched up a different suite of sensors, and his face sagged. "We're heading directly into the planet, Admiral--a straight nosedive. Unless we get full power back soon, there is no way in the universe we can save this ship."
Daala glared at the fleeing Rebel Star Cruiser, wanting nothing more than to see it explode so that she might be vindicated that much at least.
As five of the Victory Star Destroyers continued to pursue the Rebels, firing recklessly, the rest of the New Republic fleet suddenly appeared in front of them. Scores and scores of reinforcements, Assault Frigates, Corellian Corvettes, five more Mon Calamari Star Cruisers, Loronar Strike Cruisers, Garrack-class gunships - an overwhelming force.
Daala wanted to cry out in outrage and despair--but she bottled it within herself and the anger flowed like lava, compressing into a diamond of desperate resolve within her. She thought fast. She had to be realistic, not allow her fury and outrage to stain her rational thought like last time. She had to think of the future of the Empire, not her personal vendetta. Revenge would come later. There would be time.
She still had Pellaeon's fleet. She still had numerous Victory'-class ships. More and more great battlecruisers were being built in the Imperial shipyards. This was merely a setback. She had to rethink her strategy again-- or perhaps her disgrace was so great that she should never attempt to guide the Imperial fleet again.
Right now, though, the Knight Hammer was doomed, and there was nothing she could do. Nothing. She felt stripped of options. Her only chance was to escape and reach Pellaeon's fleet. Because the Knight Hammer was exceedingly automated, it carried a relatively small crew. They could all fit in the hundreds and hundreds of evacuation pods if they moved. Her crew of loyal soldiers could escape to fight again.
She sounded her own alarm. Her voice bellowed through the intercom systems. "This is Admiral Daala. I am ordering an immediate evacuation of this Super Star Destroyer. All personnel, abandon ship! Reach the nearest evacuation pods and launch into space. There are Victory'-class Star Destroyers here to pick us up, and Vice Admiral Pellaeon's fleet is on its way. But this ship is going down."
She switched off and stood looking at the red-washed bridge deck. Overhead white lights flickered but failed to come on. Her bridge crew gazed at her, astonished that she had ordered a retreat.
"Go!" she shouted at them. "That's an order. Get to the escape pods."
"But, Admiral, what about you?" said the fresh-faced young lieutenant. Tears streamed from his eyes. Smoke hovered in the air, but Daala could tell that he wept not because of chemical irritation but out of despair for the lost glory of the Empire.
"I gave you orders to evacuate, Lieutenant," she said, and turned her back to him, refusing to move. The crew gave one last look to their commander and then fled down the corridors to the evacuation pods. Daala stood alone at her command station as the universe crumbled around her. She stared out the viewport wordlessly, her face white, her lips pressed together.
The Knight Hammer hurtled toward its doom, its rear sections molten and spewing radioactive fire. But she remained unmoving, like a captain du
tifully about to go down with her ship.
CHAPTER 59
But Daala had no intention of letting it end there.
When the bridge personnel evacuated, leaving her to stand alone at the helm as the ship crashed toward its inevitable destruction, she knew the image would burn itself in the minds of her crew. She could rest assured her legend would live on if any of them survived in the escape pods.
However, Daala herself intended to survive, though it never hurt to make contingency plans. She had more battles to fight for the Empire, more ways to strike against the Rebel Alliance. This time she had caused the enemy pain at least.
Her victory was not total--but neither was her defeat.
Daala went to the wall by the command station, where she gained access to her spacious ready-room and its private compartments that held escape pods keyed to command-level personnel only. Before, she had thought the huge room with its amenities and backup systems to be extravagant, but now she blessed the designer who had thought of every contingency.
Another wave of explosions thrummed through the hull of the Knight Hammer, throwing the ship from side to side. With one last glance out the bridge windowports, Daala saw the giant gravity well of Yavin looming larger by the minute, hungry and waiting to devour her ship. She had to make good her escape--now. The Super Star Destroyer would be crushed within moments, its outer hull already burning as it screamed into the upper atmosphere.
She stumbled as another explosion rocked the black ship. The lights flickered in her ready-room, then the red emergency glow came on again. She searched for the rear alcove that contained the escape pods--and stopped when she saw a lone person waiting for her.
A woman.
A Jedi Knight holding up a sun-yellow lightsaber blade. Its topaz beam crackled in the red-washed dimness of the doomed ship.
"I've been waiting for you, Admiral Daala," Callista said. She stood face-to-face with her Imperial nemesis. Callista drew a quick breath, giddy with anticipation and exhilaration. Gratifyingly loud explosions continued to ripple through the Super Star Destroyer, chain reactions building up as the destruction tunneled deeper into the Knight Hammer.
Daala, the iron-willed and unpredictable Imperial admiral about whom Callista had heard so many legends, now looked harried and cadaverous in the emergency lighting of the command ready-room.
Daala froze upon seeing her, her face contorted in fury. "I don't believe this. Jedi vermin, everywhere I turn!" She spat out the words and stalked forward. "You can't stop me."
Callista stood her ground in front of the access hatches to the escape pods. "I only need to delay you, Daala," she said. "That'll be enough." Her lightsaber thrummed in her hand. "And I have the means to do that."
Callista felt the deep-seated anger boiling through her. Admiral Daala was the target for her rage--and this close to the climactic end of her life, just as had happened on the Eye of Palpatine, Callista found herself filled with a sudden freedom. She wanted to touch the Force again one more time, and it didn't matter now whether she allowed herself to be tainted by the dark side, if that was the only way--and it was. The ship would be engulfed in moments anyway.
All that mattered was that she stopped Daala from escaping and wreaking more destruction upon the New Republic . If she confronted the shadowy temptation, Callista could use the Force again. The dark side of it. The easy abilities. The strength that grew stronger because of itself, not because of any innate qualities its wielder possessed. The possibilities danced before her gray eyes like smoke, tantalizing her, luring Callista to reach out and grasp them, though she might be unable to let go again--
Seeing her instant of hesitation, Admiral Daala whipped out a blaster pistol from its holster at her hip. With a flick of her finger, she switched the power to a Kill setting and blasted at Callista.
Callista couldn't avoid the deadly bolt, but she could use the Force to snatch heightened abilities. With no choice, she let herself go in a fraction of a second. Using the lightsaber as an extension of herself, Callista struck defensively. Her Jedi weapon knew where it was going, following the inexorable path of the Force so that the topaz blade struck each blaster bolt as Daala fired again and again. The deadly fire reflected from her lightsaber and splashed blackened stains against the ready-room's metal walls.
Daala shot four times, but in each instance, Callista let the Force flow through her, allowing the dark side to guide her actions. Flaring with anger, she struck right and left, deflecting Daala's beams.
"The Force is more powerful than you are, Daala," Callista said through gritted teeth.
She felt the frightening strength surging within her, as her anger fed upon itself, growing more and more powerful. She could feel the Force again! She tried to back away from the dark side, concentrated on throttling back her efforts, to free herself before its grip became too strong.
Daala ceased firing--but only for an instant as she switched the setting to Stun. Before Callista could react, Daala shot again. This time, the beam was not a discrete bolt of power, but outspreading arcs of tenuous blue energy.
She raised the lightsaber to deflect the stun blast, but the paralyzing energy rippled around her from all sides and hammered Callista to the floor. Her lightsaber short-circuited, flashed out--and Callista crumpled into blackness. ...
Daala stood over the fallen Jedi woman. With her polished black boot she kicked the dead lightsaber away.
Outside, the atmosphere of Yavin scraped against the hull of the Knight Hammer with a wailing of lost spirits. The winds tore at the helpless ship as it careened into the crushing depths of the gravity well.
Daala glared at the stunned Jedi woman, annoyed that even the brief battle might have been too much of a delay, that she could no longer escape. "I told you you couldn't stop me," she said, and stepped over Callista's body on her way to the escape pod.
CHAPTER 60
The jungle battles continued to rage, but the Imperial ground assault vehicles began to lose their momentum as the Jedi Knights mounted a brutal guerrilla defense, destroying scout walkers, Juggernauts, and Flying Fortresses. The remaining TIE fighters and bombers circled overhead, but most had already been knocked out of the sky by Force-hurled projectiles.
Luke Skywalker fought hard, the lightsaber throbbing in his hand--but his attention was focused on his desperate mental search for Callista. Overhead, through the tattered jungle canopy, he could see the swollen planet Yavin filling much of the sky. The black sliver of the Knight Hammer stood out plainly, creating a triangular eclipse against the gas giant.
Brilliant streams of turbolaser fire danced across space, a flickering light show ... and Luke remembered a time long, long ago when he had been no more than the adopted nephew of a moisture farmer, a wide-eyed enthusiastic kid who had stared up into the bleached skies of Tatooine to see the distant space battle above his world. He had never dreamed that Darth Vader's capture of Princess Leia's ship would have so changed his life--and the future of the galaxy.
Back then, Luke had heard only rumors of the Jedi Knights, had no idea who his father was, and couldn't imagine the possibilities of the Force--and now Callista was just as helpless as he had been then ... but she knew what she no longer had.
Luke charged through the underbrush shouting her name over and over. Because she had been walled away from the Force, he could not sense her, had no idea where she was.
"Callista!" he called again, drawing fire from a hidden scout walker in the jungle. Laser cannon blasts erupted on either side of him, but he dodged out of the way, still partially distracted by his search. With a rapid sweep of his lightsaber, he felled a tall Massassi tree and used the Force to nudge it, toppling it on to the AT-ST in a shower of sparks and flames.
He had to find Callista. His Jedi Knights had fought remarkably well, a small band of Force-talented soldiers battling independently and wreaking great destruction on far-superior Imperial technology.
Not long ago Luke Skywalker had been one of
the only remaining Jedi Knights--but now he had created the core of a new order of valiant fighters loyal to the New Republic , trained in using the Force. The Jedi Knights would rise again--of that, he had no doubt.
As he thought of Tionne, Streen, Kirana Ti, Kyp Durron, Kam Solusar, Cilghal, and all the others he had worked with, he pondered again Callista's stated objections: that she could not be with him because she had not yet regained her Jedi talent ... that if they married and had children, she was afraid that their sons and daughters would not be able to use the Force, would be isolated from it as she was.
But what did it matter? He loved Callista, whether or not she had Jedi powers. He had already created a fine league of defenders for the New Republic , and he would continue to train Jedi on Yavin 4. It didn't matter if their children might not have the full potential for the Force. It didn't matter if Callista could use her Jedi abilities. It didn't matter! He wanted her, and no one else. He had to make that clear to her when he finally found her. He had already brought back the Jedi Knights.
Luke had searched all of his life for Callista, and he could not allow himself to lose her, not now.
He made his way back to the Great Temple to the clearing where some of his other Jedi trainees had gathered to form a combined force against the rag-tag leftovers from Vice Admiral Pellaeon's ground assault troops. His heart sank when he failed to see Callista among them.
Where had she gone? Why had he let her out of his sight? He had so much to tell her. So much to promise her. But she wasn't there.
"Callista," he whispered longingly, knowing she could not hear him. But then he looked up into the misty white sky, and suddenly he felt her through the Force. It was like a door opening to let in a ray of light. His gaze snapped over and fixed on the black silhouette of the doomed Super Star Destroyer. It was in flames, plunging into the gas giant.
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