by Troy Denning
Caedus shook his head. “Tahiri, you know the answer. The mind is a powerful weapon—especially for Force-users. If we started to remember being harmed …” He released the HOLD control, and the door slid open. “I’m sure you understand.”
For a moment, Tahiri was speechless, her face red with fury, her eyes damp. She stepped out of the turbolift. “Oh, I understand, Lord Caedus. You’re the slime under a Hutt’s tail. Feed on that.”
Caedus smiled and calmly stepped into the vestibule, where two squads of black-armored GAG sentries stood at slack-jawed attention. Across from them, spilling down a long corridor servicing the Anakin Solo’s auxiliary intelligence and control cabins, was a platoon of gray-armored Elite Guard stormtroopers who served as the Moffs’ collective bodyguard.
Caedus stopped in front of the battle-seasoned GAG sergeant and gave a sigh of feigned exasperation.
“Apprentices,” he said. “They can be so touchy about criticism sometimes.”
The sergeant nodded sagely, and Caedus felt the tension drain from the Force as guards from both groups decided that the trouble between the two Sith was nothing they needed to worry about.
“It’s the same with all subordinates, my lord.” The sergeant glanced at a flat-faced Gotal with gray sensory cones and spotty cheek fuzz, then leaned closer and added, “Sometimes I feel like killing them myself.”
“It might be better if you let the enemy do that for us,” Caedus said, giving an appreciative chuckle. “Are you still in contact with Commander Berit?”
The sergeant’s expression turned grim. “Not since we were hit, my lord,” he said. “There hasn’t been any contact at all from Dark Deck. Our entire comm net has gone dead. So has surveillance.”
“I was afraid of that.” Caedus nodded, making the same assumption the sergeant obviously had: that Dark Deck—the nickname for Ship Security Headquarters—had been destroyed in the StealthX attack. “My sister has boarded the Anakin Solo. I need you to organize a search.”
“As you wish, my lord,” the sergeant said. “Do you have any, um, special insight as to where we should start?”
Caedus shook his head. “She’s hiding in the Force, so I can’t actually feel her presence.” Realizing the seasoned sergeant would be too disciplined to ask the logical follow-up question, he glanced at the ceiling and added, “It’s more like a smell, Sergeant … a smell that permeates everything.”
The sergeant received this with the calm composure of a man who had spent a lifetime accepting orders he didn’t understand. “Very well,” he said. “And when we find her?”
“Alert me,” Caedus said. “I’ll have to address this personally. Trying to handle her yourself will just get you and your people killed.”
“Thank you for your consideration.” The sergeant sounded more relieved than he should have, and a little surprised. “Then you think the Anakin Solo is going to survive this?”
The question caught Caedus off-guard—it had never occurred to him that the Anakin Solo might not survive. He considered his answer for a moment, expanding his Force awareness to all corners of the Star Destroyer, and was surprised by the amount of pain, confusion, and fear that he felt. But there was also the determination and focus of a crew well accustomed to desperate battles, of beings who understood that their best hope of survival lay in keeping their heads and performing their duties.
Caedus looked back to the sergeant. “It’s too early to know for certain—but I’ll share a secret with you.” He laid his hand on the sergeant’s shoulder. “It really doesn’t matter. We’ve already won.”
A touch of doubt and disappointment flashed through the sergeant’s eyes, and his expression quickly grew guarded and neutral. “That’s good to hear, my lord.”
Caedus shot him a knowing half smile. “It’s unwise to doubt me, Sergeant,” he said. “We have won. I’ve seen it.”
Caedus left the sergeant to his unspoken skepticism and entered the Auxiliary Command Center, where the personnel looked anything but confident of victory. The ship’s officers were sitting at their consoles at the far end, shouting into their mikes or at one another as they struggled to determine the extent of the Anakin Solo’s damage. The command staff were clustered around a mostly blank holodisplay near the chamber entrance, looking less harried, but worrying more—with so little reliable data to analyze, they had nothing else to do.
Tahiri stood off to one side before a bank of unoccupied assimilation stations. She was surrounded by a mob of thoughtfully frowning Moffs, speaking with their de facto leader—gray-haired, combat-trim Lecersen—in the concerned tones of someone facing a sad, unpleasant truth.
As Caedus approached, Lecersen abruptly stopped speaking and turned to face him. “Lord Caedus, how good to see you well,” he said. “I was just explaining to Lady Veila how worried we were about your welfare.”
“That’s true,” Tahiri said. “The Moffs seem quite concerned about your sanity.”
The Force boiled with shock and dismay, and several Moffs began to sputter denials, their eyes growing wide and afraid. Only Lecersen seemed unsurprised by Tahiri’s bold betrayal of their confidence; he watched her with equal parts hatred and admiration. Caedus allowed himself a small smile of pride; as angry as Tahiri was with him, she had clearly decided she was not going to be anyone’s tool.
After allowing the Moffs to sputter their denials for a moment, Tahiri turned to Caedus. With ice in her voice, she added, “I tried to tell them you’re just Hutt spawn, but for some reason they don’t seem to believe me.”
That Tahiri would speak to him this way seemed to shock even Lecersen. A dead silence fell over the group, and Caedus knew that how he handled the insult would determine not only how much authority he retained over her, but how the Moffs viewed him, as well. After glaring at Tahiri for a moment, he decided the best tactic was to exploit her outburst.
“Yes, well you know me so much better than they do.” He shifted his gaze to the Moffs. “The Moffs will learn, I’m sure.”
Lecersen and several others gave a nervous, testing laugh—which Caedus silenced with a scowl.
“Moff Lecersen, you’ll be kind enough to fill me in on the discussion you were having with my apprentice.” Caedus made it an order, deliberately pushing his authority to test the Moff’s willingness to challenge him. “Leave out the part where you suggest I’m insane. I really have no interest in your opinion regarding that.”
Lecersen started to deny he had made such a suggestion, then seemed to remember how difficult it was to lie to a Force-user and nodded.
“As you wish, my lord,” he said. “I was simply expressing our concern over the tactical situation and suggesting a course of action to change the tide of battle.”
“Suggestions are always welcome,” Caedus said. “In the future, bring them directly to me. There’s no need to trouble my apprentice with them.”
Lecersen inclined his head. “As you wish, Lord Caedus,” he said. “I was suggesting to Lady Veila that we might be able to save the Remnant assault fleet by disrupting the Hapan command structure at its highest levels. We do that with an attack on the Dragon Queen.”
Caedus couldn’t read Lecersen’s thoughts quite clearly enough to determine what kind of attack the Moff was suggesting. But he had no doubt about the real target. The Dragon Queen was Tenel Ka’s personal flagship. If the Moffs were talking about going after it, they were talking about going after Tenel Ka herself.
And Caedus wouldn’t have a problem with that, except that he had sensed another familiar presence aboard the Dragon Queen during his battle meditation. Just before the ambush, he had noticed both mother and daughter, hanging on the far side of the Hapan fleet.
At first, Caedus had been confused by the discovery, believing that Tenel Ka would never endanger their daughter by bringing her into battle. But then he had put himself in Tenel Ka’s place and realized she had no other choice. He had taken Allana once, and Tenel Ka was not the type of woman to let that h
appen twice. She was the kind of woman who would keep her daughter close at all times, even in battle.
That way, she could be sure that if Caedus tried to abduct their daughter again, he would have to go through Tenel Ka first.
After taking a moment to compose himself—and to make certain his alarm wasn’t showing on his face—Caedus tucked his hand behind his back and nodded.
“An interesting thought,” he said. “Go on.”
Lecersen looked vaguely—but pleasantly—surprised. “You’re aware of how our nanokiller works?”
Caedus nodded, remembering the blood sample the Remnant medic had taken from Mirta Gev. “You can tailor it to attack specific targets, based on their genetic markers,” he said. “All you need is a sample of the target’s DNA.”
“Exactly,” Lecersen said. “But it doesn’t have to be their DNA. It can come from a close relative. We were able to develop a strain for Boba Fett using his granddaughter’s DNA, for example. And with Prince Isolder being held captive—”
“Of course,” Caedus said. He could see where this was going, and he didn’t like it—not with Allana aboard the Dragon Queen. But he couldn’t allow the Moffs to see his alarm. If they learned of his weakness, they would not hesitate to exploit it. “How is the Fett project going, by the way?”
Lecersen smirked. “It’s complete, my lord,” he said. “Admiral Atoko confirmed a successful delivery shortly before we left Nickel One.”
Caedus allowed his joy to show in his face. “So there’s a nanokiller waiting for Fett in Keldabe?”
“Not just Keldabe,” Lecersen corrected. “It was air-dispersed. By now it’s spread across half of Mandalore. Once Fett finally tires of playing starfighter ace and returns to the surface, it’s just a matter of time before he comes into contact with it.”
“What about the safe date?” Tahiri asked. “I thought you designed the nanokiller so that it stopped being a threat after a few days.”
“That’s for the weapons strains,” Lecersen explained. “The assassin strains—like the one we sent after Fett—can last forever. As long as they absorb a little light every three or four days, they never die.”
“Well done,” Caedus said. “Thank you.” He expanded his gaze to include the rest of the Moffs, too. “All of you.”
Lecersen clicked his heels and inclined his head. “A pleasure to be of service, my lord,” he said. “But it was for us, too—payback for that attack on Nickel One.”
“Even better,” Caedus said. “Fett should be taught that he’s the smallest rancor in the pit.”
“Quite,” Lecersen said. “Let’s hope the lesson kills him.”
“Let’s—but I don’t see how a nanokiller can help us now,” Caedus said, trying to dismiss the idea without seeming afraid of it. “The battle will be over by the time your strain is ready.”
“Not necessarily, my lord,” Lecersen said. “The difficulty in developing the strain comes in excluding genetic markers from the target pool. If that’s not a concern, the process can be accelerated. We could have a sample ready in as little as …”
Lecersen paused and looked to Moff Rezer for an answer.
“One hour,” Rezer said. Like Lecersen, he was a hard-eyed man with a grim mouth and a military bearing. “Two at the most.”
Caedus raised his brow. “That might be fast enough,” he admitted, growing more worried. “But deploying the weapon is still a problem. Even if we knew the Dragon Queen’s location, it would take the whole assault fleet to support a boarding action.”
“Actually, we have reports of the Dragon Queen standing off on the far edge of the battle,” Rezer reported. “So slipping a party of commandos aboard shouldn’t be a problem—especially if they look like the crew of a crippled missile boat.”
Tahiri nodded. “It just might work,” she said, turning to Caedus. “You know how Hapan royalty is. Half the officers aboard the Dragon Queen are probably related to Tenel Ka somehow.”
“It is an intriguing possibility,” Caedus said. He had never told Tahiri about Allana’s paternity, so it seemed likely that she was supporting the Moffs’ suggestion because she believed it was a good one—not because she wanted to punish Caedus for exploiting her obsession with Anakin. Still, it did mean he was going to have to dismiss the plan a little more forcefully. “But a nanokiller won’t be necessary. We’ve already won.”
“Forgive me, but it hardly feels like we’re winning,” Lecersen said, looking as surprised as he did doubtful. “And the few reports we have received from the field—”
“Moff Lecersen,” Caedus interrupted, “I see things ordinary beings cannot. Victory is ours already. There will be no nanoattack against the Dragon Queen or any other vessel. Is that clear?”
Lecersen’s jaw clenched, but he dipped his head in acknowledgment. “As you wish, Lord Caedus,” he said. “I was only trying to save lives—Imperial lives.”
“Then do exactly as I say,” Caedus replied. “You will save a lot of lives—yours among them.”
Lecersen’s eyes flashed at the threat, but he knew better than to test Caedus’s patience. “You have my complete faith,” he said. “I look forward to your victory.”
Caedus could feel that the Moff was lying, but it was impossible to tell about what, exactly. Did the fool think he could actually steal a sample of Isolder’s blood from beneath Caedus’s nose?
“Our victory, Moff Lecersen,” Caedus replied. An explosion rumbled down from somewhere above, and he glanced up. “We’re all in this together, wouldn’t you say?”
Lecersen’s smile was more of a sneer. “How kind of you to say so, my lord,” he said. “I was beginning to think you were more interested in our fleet than our advice.”
“Nothing could be farther from the truth,” Caedus said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must go find my sister—before she finds us.”
The blood drained from the faces of all the Moffs, and Lecersen said, “By all means, my lord. We’ll make the necessary preparations for transferring the flag to the Megador.”
“I’m afraid there won’t be time for that,” Caedus said. “The Megador will be busy saving your fleet.”
This drew a murmur of surprise from the Moffs, and Rezer said, “But that will leave the Anakin Solo exposed to another StealthX attack.”
“Which is why we’ll be following the Megador into battle,” Caedus said. “You can’t win wars without risking lives, gentlemen. This is where we risk ours.”
Caedus motioned Tahiri to follow, then inquired of the captain of the Anakin Solo about the Star Destroyer’s condition. After learning that the shields were the only critical system that would not be repaired within minutes, he congratulated the captain and the crew on their good work—then issued his commands. If the captain was alarmed by the prospect of following the Megador into battle without any shields, he had the good sense not to show it. He simply acknowledged his orders and turned to execute them.
Caedus nodded his approval, then started toward the door, speaking to Tahiri as he walked.
“The true Jedi base can’t be far from here,” he said. “I need you to take a StealthX and find the transports that just fled Uroro Station. They’ll show you the way.”
“And that will matter because …?” Tahiri asked.
“Because it won’t take long for the Megador to break the Hapan ambush,” Caedus explained. “And then we’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay,” Tahiri said. “But letting me believe we could bring Anakin back was a terrible way to use me. I still haven’t forgiven you.”
“And I doubt you ever will,” Caedus said. “That was kind of the point.”
They left the Auxiliary Command Center and came to the turbolift. Caedus motioned Tahiri in first.
“You go on up,” he said. Caedus thought about kissing her on her scarred forehead and wishing her good luck, and perhaps there had been a time when the gesture would have been welcome. But no longer; he had a taught her an import
ant lesson about trust, one that he knew would stay with her forever. “I have something I need to take care of.”
“Isolder,” Tahiri said, nodding. “Too bad. I kind of liked him.”
“Me, too,” Caedus said. He could not help wondering if Tahiri knew about Allana’s paternity after all. Perhaps she had chanced on him whispering the name in his sleep, or overheard something while he had Allana aboard the Anakin Solo. “But I’m not going to take a chance—not with this.”
What do you call sleet storms on Hoth?
Summer!
—Jacen Solo, age 15
The Anakin Solo’s Prison hold proved to be everything Jaina had imagined it would be. A cavernous vault of durasteel, it was filled with catwalks, checkpoints, and identity scanners. The detention cells were arrayed to the right side of the Primary Access Tunnel, stacked five-high in three long rows. There had to be a thousand units, and the volume of yellow light pouring through the transparisteel doors suggested that most were occupied. Locating Isolder’s cell was going to be a problem, and Jaina did not have time for problems. If she expected to have any chance of killing her brother, she had to find Caedus before he found her—and he had half the security teams on the Anakin Solo already searching for her.
The clank-clank of boot heels on deck steel echoed up the corridor.
A pair of guards rounded a corner about twenty meters ahead, emerging from a short side hall labeled INFIRMARY CHECKPOINT. Jaina pulled her prisoner—a female security officer now wearing Jaina’s own StealthX flight suit—across to her side, opposite the guards.
“There’s no brave option here, CeeCee.” Jaina spoke in a low voice, addressing the woman by the first and middle initials on the GAG utilities that Jaina had taken from her. “If you even meet their eyes, I’ll kill you all, and still do what I came to do. Understand?”
“If I wanted to do something stupid, I would have done it in the processing center,” CeeCee replied. “I’d rather live.”
“Good,” Jaina said. “I’d rather let you.”
CeeCee was a couple of centimeters shorter than Jaina, and a little smaller, too. So Jaina’s flight suit was a tad baggy on her—but only an experienced pilot would notice the poor fit. CeeCee’s GAG uniform, on the other hand, was so tight on Jaina that it felt like something Alema Rar would have worn—a full size too small, and snug in all the wrong places for a woman trying to avoid attention.