by Star Wars
So far Thrawn’s assessment of the man had been square on the money. However it was he’d anticipated Savit’s actions, he’d done an impressive job of it.
In the distance, she could see the thruster glows now as Watkin and his TIEs ramped up to full power. Another moment, and even Savit couldn’t fail to spot the threat poised right beneath his nose.
An instant later the Firedrake spat out a salvo of green turbolaser fire at the Chimaera.
Faro twitched reflexively as the bolts appeared to arrow straight toward her. They flashed past the bridge—
“Starboard bridge deflector hit,” Pyrondi called. “Deflector holding at sixty percent.”
Faro nodded acknowledgment. “Watkin: Go.”
Ahead, the TIEs angled up toward the Firedrake’s portside. A few shots from the point-defense lasers spattered around them as the Star Destroyer’s gunners suddenly noticed the threat.
But the response was too little and too late. Watkin’s TIEs evaded the attack with ease, spiraling up and leveling out along the portside wedgeline.
And even from her distance, Faro had no trouble seeing the multiple flashes of green fire as the TIEs systematically destroyed the turbolaser targeting sensors on that side.
Another burst of turbolaser fire flashed past the Chimaera’s bridge viewports. Faro glanced at the systems monitor, noting with grim satisfaction that the shots had missed her ship completely.
Savit does not trust human gunners, but prefers to rely on computerized sensors and targeting systems. His gunners will therefore likely prove unprepared for the sudden burden of combat operations.
“Lieutenant Agral, move us forward—one-quarter speed—and angle to starboard,” Faro ordered. “Keep us on the Firedrake’s portside as best you can.”
“Acknowledged, Commodore.”
The Chimaera began to angle to the right. “You realize, I assume,” Hammerly said quietly from the crew pit below her, “that all the Firedrake has to do is swivel around fifty degrees and they’ll be able to bring their starboard turbolasers to bear.”
“That’s true,” Faro agreed. “I also realize that the Stormbird and Misthunter could hit us without even bothering to turn. All I can tell you is that Admiral Thrawn doesn’t think they will.”
“They will if Savit orders them to.”
“Also no argument,” Faro said. “Let’s stick with the master plan and see what happens.”
“Besides which, you’re curious to see if Thrawn can defeat someone without actually being aboard his ship?”
Faro shrugged slightly. “Something like that.”
She pursed her lips in sudden thought. Thrawn’s next orders—
The cloaked gravity-well generator you launched earlier via slingshot should be nearly to the Firedrake now. Move to Savit’s portside. He will match your maneuvers, turning to face you. That will open his starboard-bow turbolaser cluster to impact damage from the generator.
Up to now, Faro had followed Thrawn’s orders to the letter. Now, perhaps, it was time to add a little variation to his script. “Helm: Bring us a hundred meters positive,” she ordered.
She watched as the Chimaera moved upward, rising out of the plane of battle. It was a big gamble, she knew—if Savit mirrored her movement, as Thrawn had suggested he might do, he would rise up with her, and the cloaked generator would miss the Firedrake entirely.
But she’d seen something else in Savit’s actions, something that suggested efficiency of movement and operation. If she’d read him right…
She had. Instead of rising from the battle plane to match the Chimaera’s movement, the Firedrake merely pitched upward, rotating to keep its bow armament pointed at its opponent.
“Commodore, activity from the Firedrake,” Pyrondi called. “Looks like they’re launching TIEs.”
Faro smiled, taking a final look at her datapad.” Yes,” she agreed. “It certainly does look like it.”
* * *
—
“Really?” Savit growled. “Is that Faro’s big plan? Moving to my blind side?”
Ronan frowned, eyeing the distant Chimaera as it drifted to the Firedrake’s portside. For once, at least, he had to agree with Savit. It was a pretty empty move.
Of course, Savit seemed to be ignoring the fact that Faro had slipped four fighters into attack range of his ship right under his nose, and that they’d proceeded to obliterate his portside targeting sensors. Clearly, the woman had a plan, and Savit would be a fool to underestimate her.
And now she was rising out of the plane of battle. Another useless gesture: The Firedrake’s response was merely to swivel its bow upward as it continued rotating to bring its starboard turbolasers to bear.
Ronan looked sideways at Savit, at the stiff expression and furious eyes. The grand admiral’s earlier arrogance was still there, but Ronan could also see a growing sense of frustration and impotence. Possibly even the beginnings of panic. For the first time in Savit’s career, he was being blocked at every turn.
Standing a few meters away, in stark contrast, was Thrawn.
Ronan gazed at him, marveling in spite of himself. Thrawn was his political enemy, he reminded himself firmly, the one person who stood between Director Krennic and the funding Stardust needed.
Worse, Thrawn’s opposition was ultimately futile. His TIE Defenders might be useful fighters, but they would prove unnecessary in a galaxy where the Death Star shone as the ultimate power. The growing rebel nuisance would be swept away; pirates would cease to exist; even the Grysks that Thrawn seemed to fear so greatly would fall before Director Krennic and his battle station.
And yet…
“Admiral, this is Chief Hangar Master Llano,” a frantic voice came from the Firedrake’s bridge speakers. “Did you order TIEs to launch?”
“What?” Savit demanded.
“Because I’ve got four fighters from Squadron One dropping from their cradles,” Llano said. “I tried to call them for order confirmation, but they didn’t respond.”
“Call them back,” Savit snarled.
“I tried, Admiral. But they just ignored me.”
Savit flashed a look at Boulag. “Captain?” he demanded, making the word an accusation.
“I gave no orders, Admiral,” Boulag protested.
“He is correct,” Thrawn spoke up.
“Admiral—Captain,” Llano said, cutting back in. “Admiral Thrawn’s shuttle is also leaving. Did you give orders—?”
“No!” Savit thundered. He let go of Ronan’s arm, giving him a shove that stumbled him off balance, and dropped his hand to his holstered blaster. “What did you do, Thrawn? What did you do?”
“Those four TIEs have been commandeered by pilots I brought from the Chimaera,” Thrawn said calmly. “I’m afraid you’ll find your pilots for those particular fighters have been neutralized.”
“Impossible,” Savit insisted. “There’s been no report of blasterfire, and my TIE commander makes sure all his personnel are trained for hand-to-hand combat.”
“I have no doubt they’re quite competent against capture by pirates or rebels,” Thrawn said. “Even so, I daresay your TIE commander’s training is not up to a determined attack by one of my death troopers.”
Savit’s mouth dropped open a millimeter. “You said they were back on the Chimaera.”
“I said I had left them behind,” Thrawn corrected. “I never said how far behind they had been left.”
Savit swore viciously. “Launch Squadron Two,” he ordered. “They’re to intercept the rogue TIEs and turn them back. No—on second thought, never mind turning them back. Intercept and destroy.”
“You will find that difficult to do,” Thrawn said. “My people have also disabled the remote auto-lock mechanism. You shall have to disengage each cradle manually.”
“Well, then,
we’ll have to do that, won’t we?” Savit bit out. “Hangar Master Llano, do whatever you have to, but get those TIEs in space—”
Without warning, the Firedrake jerked as the dull clang of an impact somewhere deep inside it rumbled across the bridge. “Hangar Master—!” Savit shouted.
“Impact in the hangar bay!” Llano’s bewildered voice wailed. “Something—it’s a big cylinder, Admiral. It just—we never saw anything, sir. It just slammed into the aft racks. I don’t know where it came from.”
“Thrawn?” Savit demanded again, his knuckles going white on the grip of his blaster.
“A tool created by the Grysks,” Thrawn said. “A cloaked gravity-well generator designed to protect an area from intrusion.” He waved a hand in the direction of the hangar bay. “As you see, it can also be repurposed as an offensive weapon.”
Savit stared at him another moment. “Boulag, where are those stolen TIEs going?”
“They’re—” Boulag paused, and Ronan saw his hands curl into fists. “They’re running along the starboard wedgeline. Taking out the turbolaser targeting sensors on that side.”
“Are they now?” Savit said, a dark smile tweaking the corners of his mouth. “I’m impressed, Thrawn. I really am. Faro has accorded herself very well. But she seems to have forgotten one small thing.”
“What is that, Admiral?” Thrawn asked.
“The fact that I’m not alone out here.” He gestured to the comm station. “Signal to the Stormbird and Misthunter.”
“Channel open, Admiral.”
Savit seemed to stand a little taller. “This is Grand Admiral Savit,” he called. “Grand Admiral Thrawn and his officers have proven themselves traitors to the Empire. Accordingly, you are ordered to attack the Chimaera with full turbolasers until it surrenders or is destroyed.”
“Transmitted, sir.”
Ronan took a deep breath. “Admiral, I ask you again to reconsider,” he said. “As Thrawn said earlier, we can find a way to make this go away. Between Thrawn and Director Krennic, we can find a quieter solution that doesn’t involve the slaughter of innocent personnel.”
“No one who follows a traitor is innocent,” Savit shot back. “Surely an assistant director on the Stardust project can understand that.”
“Admiral, please,” Ronan said, shifting his eyes to the viewport and the distant Chimaera. He hadn’t been aboard that ship very long, but he’d met some of Thrawn’s officers. Commodore Faro, Commander Hammerly, Hangar Master Xoxtin, a few others. All of them loyal to the Empire. None of them deserving to die.
Especially not at Savit’s hand.
Because Savit was the traitor here. Thrawn had the evidence, and Savit had all but admitted it. The inevitable inquiry—and there would be an inquiry—would surely bring that into the open.
But not before Faro and Hammerly and the Chimaera were dead.
Unless Ronan did something.
His gaze shifted to the blaster strapped at Savit’s side. The grand admiral’s hand was still resting there, the fingers still tense. If Ronan could get to that weapon…
But no. He had no authority to interfere in this. Not only would anything he did or tried to do reflect on Director Krennic and Stardust, but it would likely get him shot by one of the two stormtroopers still on guard at the aft end of the command walkway.
Faro and the Chimaera would die. The minute the other ships opened fire…
He frowned, belatedly noticing that they hadn’t opened fire.
Why hadn’t they?
The same question had apparently just occurred to Savit. “Stormbird and Misthunter, I gave you an order,” he called. “Why haven’t you obeyed?”
Silence. “Stormbird and Misthunter—”
“To all ships of the Third Fleet.” Commodore Faro’s voice came over the speaker. “As you can see, several of the Firedrake’s TIE pilots have mutinied against Grand Admiral Savit’s unwarranted attack on the Chimaera. They have expressed their dissension by crippling his ability to bring further deadly force to bear.”
“What?” Savit demanded. “No—that’s a lie. Those are Thrawn’s pilots—”
“Once again I call on you to similarly defy Admiral Savit’s illegal orders and join me in demanding that he be placed under arrest and relieved of command pending a full investigation—”
“No!” Savit snarled. “All ships, destroy the Chimaera! Destroy it now!”
“I’m afraid they can’t hear you,” Thrawn said. “With your attention on the TIEs currently neutralizing your starboard turbolaser batteries, you failed to see where my shuttle went when it left the hangar bay.”
“Boulag?” Savit demanded.
“Yes, sir,” Boulag said, his voice strained. “Hull sensor record—quickly!”
Ronan watched as the visual record rolled backward to the point where the shuttle left the hangar bay…followed it as it swooped underneath the portside of the wedge and rounded the wedgeline…came up around and back toward the superstructure, still hugging the hull…came to rest against the side of the superstructure below and aft of the bridge.
“Damn,” Boulag muttered.
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “As you can see, it is currently grappled to the hull directly over the Firedrake’s short-range transmitter, where it is now jamming all of your outgoing signals.”
“Fine,” Savit gritted out. “There are plenty of other transmitters on my TIEs and shuttles with enough power to reach the other Star Destroyers. I’ll relay through one of those.” He raised his voice. “Hangar Master Llano?”
There was no answer. “Hangar Master Llano!”
“I believe you’ll find that Hangar Control is no longer under your authority,” Thrawn said. “I believe Commodore Faro will be commenting on that fact shortly, citing it as further evidence that the Firedrake’s mutiny is spreading.” He gestured. “But if you wish to go to the hangar bay and personally board one of the TIEs to make your transmission, you’re free to do so.”
“So Faro can then claim I’ve left the bridge because my senior officers have also mutinied?” Savit demanded. “I think I can give the lie to that one. Captain Boulag, resume your attack on the Chimaera.”
Ronan looked at Boulag. The captain’s posture was stiff, his face tortured. “I’m sorry, Admiral,” the captain said. “But I don’t believe the Empire is best served by continuing this course of action.”
“I don’t care what you believe,” Savit snarled. “I’m your commander, and the commander of the Third Fleet. You will obey, or I’ll have you shot where you stand for insubordination and mutiny.”
“I’m sorry, Admiral—”
“This is Captain Gilad Pellaeon, commanding the ISD Harbinger,” a new voice came over the speaker. “I’ve reviewed the data sent by the Chimaera, and have concluded that the evidence is sufficient to justify an official inquiry. Accordingly, I am placing the Harbinger under the authority of Commodore Faro and calling on Grand Admiral Savit to surrender his command. I also call on Captains Lochry and Rasdel to join me—”
“Cut him off,” Savit snapped. “Cut him off!”
The speaker fell silent.
“It’s over, Admiral,” Thrawn said quietly. “With the Chimaera and Harbinger both against you, you cannot hope to prevail.”
“Damn you,” Savit said.
And suddenly his blaster was out of its holster, the muzzle leveled at Thrawn. “Enjoy your victory while you can, Grand Admiral Thrawn. I’ll see you in hell.”
Thrawn was Ronan’s enemy. Ronan had already concluded that. Thrawn was the political and financial enemy of Stardust and Director Krennic himself. Thrawn’s TIE Defenders, and Thrawn himself, were about to be made superfluous by the glory that was the Death Star.
And yet…
In a single smooth motion, Ronan snatched the cape from around his throat and whi
pped it across Savit’s face.
The blaster spat out a sizzling bolt, missing Thrawn by millimeters and continuing past to shatter the edge of the starboard crew pit. With a curse, Savit caught the cape and hurled it away, twisting to face Ronan. He raised his blaster, this time pointing it at Ronan—
And with screaming circles of blue light, a stun blast sizzled forward from somewhere over Ronan’s shoulder. It caught Savit squarely in the torso and sent him sprawling to the deck.
Ronan spun around. The two stormtroopers Savit had left on guard at the end of the command walkway were sprawled unmoving on the deck. Standing between them was Dayja, a stormtrooper’s E-11 in one hand and a gold-edged, shimmer-backed ident data card held high in the other.
“Everyone at ease,” he called. “Major Dayja Collerand, Imperial Security Bureau. I’m ordering that Grand Admiral Savit be temporarily relieved of duty and command of the Firedrake turned over to Captain Boulag.”
“On what authority?” Boulag asked, looking both outraged and relieved.
“Interesting fact, Captain,” Dayja said conversationally as he strode toward the group on the walkway, his ID card still held high. “Not sure how many officers know it, but there’s a regulation stating that all blasters on a capital ship bridge must be set on stun unless there’s been a direct and previously logged order from its commander.”
“To prevent exactly what just nearly happened here,” Thrawn said.
“And other things,” Dayja said. “Nice move, by the way, Assistant Director Ronan. Captain Boulag, you’re in temporary command of this vessel. What are your orders?”
Boulag looked at Savit’s unconscious form. “I assume that blaster regulation comes with a prescribed penalty, Major Collerand?”
“It does,” Dayja said. “Restraint and removal from duty until a hearing can be held.”
“I see,” Boulag said. “Very well. I presume, Admiral Thrawn, that you’ll remain aboard to testify at Admiral Savit’s hearing.”
“I’m afraid I have more pressing duties at the moment, Captain,” Thrawn said. “There is a battle taking place even now that may urgently require the Chimaera’s presence.”