by Timothy Zahn
"Yeah," Han muttered, looking around the bridge. "Sure. I'm supposed to just wave my hands and-"
He stopped short...and felt a slow, lopsided smile spread across his face. "Chewie, Lando-get over there to those sensor displays," he ordered, looking down at the console in front of him. Not the right one. "Luke, help me find-never mind; here it is."
"Here what is?" Lando asked, stepping in front of the display Han had indicated.
"Think about it a minute," Han said, glancing over the controls. Good; everything still seemed to be engaged. He just hoped it all still worked. "Where are we, anyway?" he added, stepping over to the helm console and activating it.
"We're in the middle of nowhere," Lando said with strained patience.
"And fiddling with that helm isn't going to get us anywhere."
"You're right," Han agreed, smiling tightly. "It's not going to get us anywhere."
Lando stared at him...and slowly, a smile of his own appeared.
"Right," he said slyly. "Right. This is the Katana fleet. And we're aboard the Katana."
"You got it," Han told him. Taking a deep breath, mentally crossing his fingers, he eased power to the drive.
The Katana didn't move, of course. But the whole reason the entire Katana fleet had disappeared together in the first place "Got one," Lando called out, hunching over his sensor display.
"Bearing forty-three mark twenty."
"Just one?" Han asked.
"Just one," Lando confirmed. "Count your blessings-after this much time we're lucky to have even one ship whose engines still work."
"Let's hope they stay working," Han grunted. "Give me an intercept course for that second Star Destroyer."
"Uh ..." Lando frowned. "Come around fifteen degrees portside and down a hair."
"Right." Carefully, Han made the necessary course change. It was a strange feeling to be flying another ship by slave-rig remote control. "How's that?" he asked Lando.
"Looks good," Lando confirmed. "Give it a little more power."
"The fire control monitors aren't working," Luke warned, stepping to Han's side. "I don't know if you're going to be able to fire accurately without them."
"I'm not even going to try," Han told him grimly. "Lando?"
"Shift a little more to portside," Lando directed. "A little more ... that's it." He looked up at Han. "You're lined up perfectly."
"Here goes," Han said; and threw the throttle control wide open. There was no way the Star Destroyer could have missed seeing the Dreadnaught bearing down on it, of course. But with its electronic and control systems still being scrambled by Bel Iblis's ion attack, there was also no way for it to move out of the way in time.
Even from the Katana's distance, the impact and explosion were pretty spectacular. Han watched the expanding fireball fade slowly, and then turned to Luke. "Okay," he said. "Now we're out of the fight." Through the Judicator's side viewport Captain Brandei watched in stunned disbelief as the Peremptory died its fiery death. No-it couldn't be. It simply couldn't. Not an Imperial Star Destroyer. Not the mightiest ship in the Empire's fleet.
The crack of a shot against the bridge deflector screen snapped him out of it. "Report," he snapped.
"One of the enemy Dreadnaughts seems to have been damaged in the Peremptory's explosion," the sensor officer reported. "The other two are on their way back here."
To reinforce the three still blasting away with their ion cannon. Brandei gave the tactical display a quick check; but it was a meaningless exercise. He knew full well what their only course was. "Recall all remaining fighters," he ordered. "We'll make the jump to lightspeed as soon as they're aboard."
"Yes sir."
And as the bridge crew moved to comply, Brandei permitted himself a tight smile. Yes, they'd lost this one. But it was just a battle, not the war. They'd be back soon enough...and when they did, it would be with the Dark Force and Grand Admiral Thrawn to command it.
So he would leave the Rebels to enjoy their victory here. It might well be their last.
CHAPTER
29
The repair party from the Quenfis got the anteroom hull breach patched in what was probably record time. The ship Luke had requested was waiting for him in the docking bay, and he was out in space again barely an hour after the destruction f the second Star Destroyer and the retreat of the first.
Locating a single inert ejection seat among all the debris of battle had been a nearly hopeless task for Karrde's people. For a Jedi, it was no trick at all.
Mara was unconscious when they found her, both from a dangerously depleted air supply and from what was probably a mild concussion. Aves got her aboard the Wild Karrde and set off at near-reckless speed toward the medical facilities of the Star Cruiser which had finally arrived. Luke saw them safely aboard, then headed back toward the Katana and the transport he and the rest of his team would be returning to Coruscant by.
Wondering why it had been so important for him to rescue Mara in the first place.
He didn't know. There were lots of rationalizations he could come up with, from simple gratitude for her assistance in the battle all the way up to the saving of lives being a natural part of a Jedi's duty. But none of them was more than simply a rationalization. All he knew for certain was that he had had to do it.
Maybe it was the guidance of the Force. Maybe it was just one last gasp of youthful idealism and naïveté.
From the board in front of him, the comm pinged. "Luke?"
"Yes, Han, what is it?"
"Get back here to the Katana. Right away." Luke looked out his canopy at the dark ship ahead, a shiver running through him. Han's voice had been that of someone walking through a graveyard..."What is it?"
"Trouble," the other said. "I know what the Empire's up to now. And it's not good."
Luke swallowed. "I'll be right there."
"So," Thrawn said, his glowing eyes blazing with cold fire as he looked up from the Judicator's report. "Thanks to your insistence on delaying me, we've lost the Peremptory. I trust you're satisfied." C'baoth met the gaze evenly. "Don't blame the incompetence of your would-be conquerors on me," he said, his voice as icy as Thrawn's. "Or perhaps it wasn't incompetence, but the skill of the Rebellion. Perhaps it would be you lying dead now if the Chimaera had gone instead." Thrawn's face darkened. Pellaeon eased a half step closer to the Grand Admiral, moving a little farther into the protective sphere of the ysalamir beside the command chair, and braced himself for the explosion. But Thrawn had better control than that. "Why are you here?" be asked instead.
C'baoth smiled and turned deliberately away. "You've made many promises to me since you first arrived on Wayland, Grand Admiral Thrawn," he said, pausing to peer at one of the hologram sculptures scattered around the room. "I'm here to make sure those promises are kept."
"And how do you intend to do that?"
"By making certain that I'm too important to be, shall we say, conveniently forgotten," C'baoth said. "I'm hereby informing you, therefore, that I will be returning to Wayland ... and will be assuming command of your Mount Tantiss project."
Pellaeon felt his throat tighten. "The Mount Tantiss project?" Thrawn asked evenly.
"Yes," C'baoth said, smiling again as his eyes flicked to Pellaeon.
"Oh, I know about it, Captain. Despite your petty efforts to conceal the truth from me."
"We wished to spare you unnecessary discomfort," Thrawn assured him.
"Unpleasant memories, for example, that the project might bring to mind." C'baoth studied him. "Perhaps you did," he conceded with only a touch of sarcasm. "If that was truly your motive, I thank you. But the time for such things has passed. I have grown in power and ability since I left Wayland, Grand Admiral Thrawn. I no longer need you to care for my sensitivities." He drew himself up to his full height; and when he spoke again, his voice boomed and echoed throughout the room. "I am C'baoth; Jedi Master. The Force which binds the galaxy together is my servant." Slowly, Thrawn rose to his feet. "And you
are my servant, he said. C'baoth shook his head. "Not anymore, Grand Admiral Thrawn. The circle has closed. The Jedi will rule again."
"Take care, C'baoth," Thrawn warned. "Posture all you wish. But never forget that even you are not indispensable to the Empire." C'baoth's bushy eyebrows lifted...and the smile which creased his face sent an icy shiver through Pellaeon's chest. It was the same smile he remembered from Wayland.
The smile that had first convinced him that C'baoth was indeed insane.
"On the contrary," the Jedi Master said softly. "As of now, I am all that is not indispensable to the Empire."
He lifted his gaze to the stars displayed on the room's walls.
"Come," he said. "Let us discuss the new arrangement of our Empire." Luke looked down at the bodies of the Imperial troops who had died in his sudden decompression of the Katana's bridge anteroom. Understanding at last why they'd felt strange to his mind. "I don't suppose there s any chance of a mistake," he heard himself say.
Beside him, Han shrugged. "Leia's got them doing a genetic check. But I don't think so."
Luke nodded, staring down at the lies laid out before him. Or rather, at the single face that was shared by all of the bodies.
Clones.
"So that's it," he said quietly. "Somewhere, the Empire's found a set of Spaarti cloning cylinders. And has gotten them working."
"Which means it's not going to take them years to find and train crews for their new Dreadnaughts," Han said, his voice grim. "Maybe only a few months. Maybe not even that long."
Luke took a deep breath. "I've got a really bad feeling about this, Han."
"Yeah. Join the club."
To Be Concluded...
FB2 document info
Document ID: 19bfc58a-2b5c-420c-bb11-aaf2422b8f86
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 3.4.2012
Created using: calibre 0.8.10 software
Document authors :
Timothy Zahn
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