by Star Wars
“Indicators aren’t proof,” Savit said. “And as Assistant Director Ronan has already pointed out, all of those paint Governor Haveland as well as they do me.”
“No,” Thrawn said. “The records of your ships’ locations and their pirate raids correspond precisely with the list of spaceports the stolen freighters departed from. Governor Haveland has no power to order your activities so precisely. We also have records of which pirates you raided and which you did not, the names of the technicians working the spaceports, their affiliations, backtracked records of payments, and other means of linking them to you.”
Savit snorted. “Coincidence and speculation. All of it. Nothing you could ever prove to a board of inquiry.”
“Perhaps,” Thrawn said, his voice going even quieter. “But there is one final indicator. The encryption your pirates were using to communicate with you and one another, and which the Grysks gained access to after the capture of the way station. Do you recognize the G77 encryption, Admiral?”
Savit dug his fingers into Ronan’s arm. The fools. They’d had strict orders to erase not just the encryption but also all references to it in case of capture. Clearly, they hadn’t.
“The encryption is reserved solely for use by the twelve grand admirals,” Thrawn said. “No governors or moffs have access to it. Moreover, a search of the HoloNet records will be able to again make connections to the times and places of the stolen freighters.”
His manner seemed to darken. “I suspect you blame the pirates who failed to erase the encryption before their capture. That is unfair. The Grysks are extremely efficient, and no doubt overwhelmed them before they knew what was upon them.”
“Is he right, Admiral?” Ronan asked, his eyes now on Savit.
“I am,” Thrawn assured him. “The only question remaining is why. Why did you subvert Stardust this way?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Ronan bit out.
“I disagree, Assistant Director,” Thrawn said. “The reason matters very much.”
“To whom?”
“To everyone in the galaxy except you, Ronan,” Savit said contemptuously. “Tell me, Thrawn: Do you know how much of the navy’s budget is being poured into Krennic’s precious Stardust project?”
Thrawn shook his head. “No.”
“I do,” Ronan said. “And in my opinion, it’s worth every credit.”
“Then you’re a fool,” Savit retorted. “It’s a horrendous sum, an incredible percentage of overall spending. And it’s all for nothing.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that Stardust is doomed,” Savit said. “It may survive five years, or ten, maybe even fifty. But somewhere during its service lifetime, someone will figure out a way to disable or even destroy it.”
“No,” Ronan said firmly. “It’s far too powerful for that. Too well defended.” His face hardened. “Or it would have been before you started siphoning off the new turbolasers.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Savit growled. “I have the components for twenty-two of them. That’s less than half a percent of the five thousand you’re planning to install.”
He looked at Thrawn. “Can you imagine what the twenty-two I’ve saved would add to the Chimaera’s defenses? Or the Firedrake’s, or the new Star Dreadnought class Lord Vader’s been pushing for? What could you do with the weapons and matériel—with the sheer number of credits—that are going into Stardust? The TIE Defenders, certainly; but how many other vital projects have been scrapped to feed Krennic’s insatiable appetite?”
“So you steal from Stardust in order to equip other ships?” Thrawn asked.
“I steal from Stardust so that not everything Krennic has poured money into goes up in smoke and flame or scrap metal,” Savit said. “I want something from Stardust to end up being useful to the navy.”
“So ultimately you did this out of loyalty to the Empire,” Thrawn said.
“Is that how you see this?” Ronan demanded. “No. What he did was treason, pure and simple.”
“Treason, yes,” Thrawn said. “But hardly simple. Tell me, Admiral: What would you do if I offered you a chance to redeem yourself?”
Savit studied him. That blue face and those red eyes were hard to read, but he seemed sincere. “Explain.”
“You have seen the evidence of enemy intrusion,” Thrawn said, nodding in the direction of the distant station. “Those same beings are coming in force to another system nearby. Together our five Star Destroyers would turn a perilous situation into a decisive victory.”
“Really?” Savit countered. “The way I hear it, you’ve already colluded with an enemy intrusion. That’s not going to sit well with Coruscant.”
“That situation can and will be explained to the Emperor’s satisfaction,” Thrawn said. “The fact remains that if we do not join in defending against the Grysks, the Empire will be put at risk.”
“And you’re offering me absolution for my crimes if I now march to your flute?” Savit shook his head. “Sometimes your childish innocence surprises even me. If this was your plan, you don’t know me at all. You should have stuck to tactics and art and stayed out of politics.”
“There is no chance you will alter your decision?” Thrawn asked.
“Don’t beg, Thrawn,” Savit said severely. “It doesn’t become your rank.” He rested his hand on the grip of his holstered blaster. “This conversation is over. I don’t know what you imagined you could gain by forcing this to the bridge instead of waiting for us in the hangar bay. But it doesn’t matter, because that’s where we’re heading now.”
“Admiral, we’ve got an incoming Star Destroyer,” the comm officer called. “It’s the Chimaera.”
Savit looked at the displays in disbelief. It was the Chimaera, all right, facing nose-on to the Firedrake and coming slowly but steadily toward him. “What the hell—?”
“Admiral Savit, this is Commodore Karyn Faro, commanding the ISD Chimaera,” Faro’s voice came stiffly from the bridge speaker. “I call on you to surrender yourself and your task force to me, and to prepare your defense on charges of treason.”
“You asked what I hoped to gain by meeting you on the bridge, Admiral?” Thrawn asked softly.
Savit looked back at Thrawn. The blue face was still calm, but the glowing eyes seemed to have taken on a new intensity. “So tell me,” he invited.
“It’s very simple,” Thrawn said.
“I wished for a better view of the coming battle.”
* * *
—
“…on charges of treason.” Faro gestured, and Lomar muted the transmitter.
And with that, the chance cube had been thrown.
The bridge, Faro noted, seemed unusually quiet. Everyone could see the odds they were facing, and knew how much of a gamble this was.
Or was it? Was it truly a gamble?
After all this time serving under Thrawn, Faro still didn’t have a solid answer. Did Thrawn routinely take incredible chances, like most people assumed? Or was everything coolly and meticulously planned out in advance, leaving the illusion of uncertainty but without its substance?
It was probably a combination of both, she decided. He planned where he could, and tried to stack the odds where he couldn’t.
In this case…
Faro looked at her datapad. She’d read his instructions a dozen times since he’d boarded the shuttle and headed out for his meeting with Savit.
Time to find out how good those instructions actually were.
“Lieutenant Pyrondi?” she called. “Stand by first slingshot.”
“First slingshot ready, Commodore.”
“Slingshot: Go.”
Considering the relative masses, there was no way Faro would feel any lurching beneath her feet as the tractor beams
caught hold and accelerated the object toward the bow. But in her imagination she felt the lurch anyway. There was a slight, perfectly timed pitch of the Chimaera’s bow to move the ship up out of the vector, and it was done.
“Lieutenant Lomar, send the package,” she ordered. “Then unmute me.”
“Package sent. Mute off.”
“Commanders and officers of the Third Fleet,” Faro said. “I’ve just sent you the evidence we’ve collected showing Grand Admiral Savit’s complicity in illicit activities. I call on you to review the material, and if you find it persuasive I urge you to join the Chimaera in demanding that Admiral Savit surrender himself for a board of inquiry.”
No response. But she hadn’t really expected one, at least not this soon. She headed over toward the weapons station, gesturing to Lomar to cut the transmission as she walked. “Are we set, Pyrondi?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Pyrondi said. She was trying to hide her nervousness, but wasn’t quite as good at it as Faro was. “Major Quach indicates TIEs are ready.” She looked sideways at Faro. “I hope you realize, Commodore, that on pure balance-sheet analysis this can’t possibly work. A single Star Destroyer against four is called a mauling.”
“That presumes that all four are enthusiastic about joining battle,” Faro pointed out. “The admiral doesn’t think that will be the case.”
“Commodore, Misthunter and Stormbird are moving up to support Firedrake,” Hammerly called.
“You were saying?” Pyrondi asked with a ghost of a smile.
“Courage, Pyrondi,” Faro said, smiling back. She raised her voice. “What about the Harbinger?”
“Still back at the Grysk observation post.”
“There’s your first crack, Pyrondi,” Faro said. “Captain Pellaeon’s not a blind follower, and Savit knows it.”
“So we just have to hold off the other three long enough for Pellaeon to sift through the data?”
“Don’t worry,” Faro assured her. “Savit will wait for us to fire first. That gives us time.”
She stepped back to the command walkway. “Lieutenant Pyrondi: Prepare for second slingshot. Quach: Prepare TIEs for Marg Sabl.”
“Slingshot ready,” Pyrondi confirmed.
“Marg Sabl ready,” Quach confirmed.
“Lieutenant Agral, pitch twenty degrees down,” Faro said. She watched as the Chimaera’s bow dipped, putting the hangar bay out of view of the three Star Destroyers in the distance. “Marg Sabl: Go.”
She waited, peering out the starboard viewport, counting off the seconds. The Marg Sabl was one of Thrawn’s best-known maneuvers: deploying a group of TIEs unseen from the hangar bay, giving them time to assemble and then swoop around the hull in all directions and converge on the enemy.
Of course, being well known also meant that Savit was certainly aware of it. In fact, given that Faro was Thrawn’s senior officer and protégée, he was almost certainly expecting it.
Which was, really, the whole point.
“Second slingshot: Go,” Faro ordered. Through the viewport she saw the starboard group of Marg Sabl TIEs appear and sweep toward Savit’s Star Destroyers. “As soon as the TIEs are clear, bring the bow back up to face the Firedrake.”
With the first slingshot, there hadn’t been anything for Faro to see. This time, though, the four darkened TIEs were visible for a moment as they passed the Chimaera’s bow, disappearing into the enveloping blackness as they continued their steady path toward Savit’s force. In the distance around them, the Marg Sabl TIEs blazed blatantly through the sky, hopefully drawing all of Savit’s attention.
Faro looked at her datapad. Savit will not want it on the record that he attacked first. He will therefore wait for the Chimaera to do so. Begin with a Marg Sabl. Savit will recognize the preparatory maneuvers and watch for those TIEs to appear. That will mask your second slingshot maneuver of four dark TIEs.
She looked up again, watching as the main group of TIEs began their leisurely sweep toward the Firedrake.
And hoped that Thrawn had indeed left her only the illusion of uncertainty.
The Steadfast had been waiting, ready for action, for longer than Eli really felt comfortable with.
Waiting was always a chore. Waiting for combat was excruciating.
Now, at last, things were starting to move.
“There,” he said, pointing at the tactical display.
“I see it,” Ar’alani said calmly. “Mid Commander Tanik?”
“Small ship, too small to be heavily armed,” the sensor officer reported. “Probably a scout. Definitely Grysk design.”
Eli studied the ship as it cut across the Steadfast’s line of sight in the distance. If the main Grysk force came in at that same spot…
But of course, there was no guarantee that it would. In fact, once the scout popped back into hyperspace and delivered its report, there was every chance that the Grysks would decide to come out closer to the Steadfast, and from an entirely different direction.
Which left Ar’alani with a risky choice: to wait here beside the remaining ship of the Grysks’ forward base, or to move away and avoid being jumped if the attackers decided to come in right on top of them.
First Officer Khresh was obviously wondering the same thing. “That scout has seen us here, Admiral,” he said. “We might want to change position.”
On the tactical, there was a flicker as the scout jumped back into hyperspace. “We might, Senior Captain Khresh,” Ar’alani said. “I turn the question back: Will our enemy expect us to move?”
“That depends on how smart he is,” Khresh said. “Or perhaps how smart he thinks he is.”
“As well as on his knowledge of Chiss and Chiss battle maneuvers,” Ar’alani said. “Let’s see just how clever he thinks he is.”
“We stay here?”
“We stay here,” Ar’alani confirmed. She raised her voice. “All stations: Prepare for battle. The enemy will soon be upon us.”
She looked at Eli. “Lieutenant Vanto, are your fighters and your slingshot tractor operators ready?”
“Yes, Admiral, they are,” Eli said. Or at least they were as ready as tractor operators could be who’d never actually performed the maneuver.
But they’d had no real choice. They had only the one cloaked gravity-well generator and couldn’t safely practice with it. And without knowing if or when a Grysk scout might show up, practicing with anything else might give the enemy commander a glimpse of the operation and conceivably allow him to anticipate the maneuver Eli and Ar’alani were planning.
And that would be disastrous. That part of the battle plan depended on complete surprise, right up to the point when the attack was launched.
“Good,” Ar’alani said. “Navigator Vah’nya?”
“I’m ready, Admiral,” Vah’nya replied from the navigation station. She hesitated. “Admiral, may I have a word with Lieutenant Eli’van’to?”
Ar’alani sent a speculative look at Eli. But she merely gestured him toward the young woman.
Eli unstrapped and crossed to Vah’nya. She didn’t look up as he joined her, but continued staring at her board. “I’m here, Navigator,” Eli said. “Is there a problem?”
“I don’t know,” Vah’nya said, her voice low. “Perhaps. Tell me, do you think Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo will win his battle in time to come to our aid?”
Eli hesitated, sensing a verbal and philosophical trap. For a proud people like the Chiss, even the idea that they would need to be rescued by anyone could be taken as an insult. “I don’t know,” he said. “But we don’t need Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo. We have Admiral Ar’alani and the warriors of the Ascendancy Defense Fleet ship Steadfast. We can defeat anything the Grysks choose in their folly to throw against us.”
A small smile briefly touched Vah’nya’s face. “You’ve lea
rned the Chiss credo well, Lieutenant Eli,” she said. “But you are still human.” Her throat tightened. “Could you kill a navigator?”
Eli felt his mouth drop open. “Excuse me?”
Vah’nya took a deep breath, let it out in a soft sigh. “I’ve touched the mind of Un’hee,” she said, almost too quietly for Eli to hear. “I’ve seen what the Grysks did to her. How they probed deeply into her mind and soul. How they found her deepest desires and fears, her most comforting memories and her most cherished hopes. How they twisted and tarnished and bent all of them to their will.
“How they broke her soul.”
She paused. Eli remained silent, wishing that he had something of comfort to say. Knowing that he didn’t.
“They are a terrible enemy, Eli,” Vah’nya said. “Your Empire—your former Empire—forces its will on its slaves through soldiers and weapons and warships. But the Grysks…three can command a nation. A hundred can rule an entire world. Billions of beings, their hearts and souls broken, ready to fight and die at the order of a handful of aliens. No resistance, no revolt, no dissent, no hope.”
She looked up at Eli, and he flinched a little at the sudden intensity in her eyes. “I won’t let that happen to me, Eli. I won’t let it happen to my four sister navigators. Nor will I let it happen again to Un’hee.”
“I know how you feel,” Eli said, a chill running up his back. Now, finally, he saw where she was going. “What do you want me to do?”
“You’re aware that it’s an immediate capital crime to kill a navigator,” Vah’nya said. “It’s been that way since the beginning of the Ascendancy. It’s so ingrained in our society that no Chiss could even conceive of such an action.”
“But I’m not a Chiss.”
“You’re not a Chiss.” Vah’nya looked him straight in the eye. “If the time comes when there is no hope, when the Steadfast is a broken and dead hull, when the Grysks swarm through hatchways and breaches…will you promise to kill me and my sisters?”