Chapter 3
For a few minutes, it appeared that Grand Admiral Grant's hunch had been wrong. But when six full squadrons of X-wings and Y-wings suddenly came out of hyperspace with their accompanying carrier ships, the Imperial Fleet's TIE fighters were already in space and creating a perimeter around Coruscant along with four Imperial Interdictor Cruisers. Harlan figured he would've been caught off guard by the sudden attack; that is if Admiral Grant hadn't been on the bridge.
However, Grant had been on the bridge, and this wasn't the first time his hunches had been correct. As unlikely a situation where one would predict the exact time the attack on Coruscant by the Rebellion would commence, let alone the exact day, the Grand Admiral had indeed done just that. Of course, this doesn't even take into the account that Grant had predicted a strike on Coruscant to begin with.
And so, when the battle began, Harlan didn't have a thing to worry about. Grand Admiral Grant wasn't very concerned either. Sitting behind the Captain, the Grand Admiral was carefully holding a cup of tea in one hand, a small plate to put the tea on in the other. And contrary to bridge standard operating procedure during battle stations, a soft orchestral music with violins softly played in the background. Grant claimed it helped with stimulating thought and coordinating action. Judging by the tactical advantage the Imperials had over the Rebel Alliance, it seemed to have worked.
"Typical," Grant muttered as he took another sip of his tea. "I expected as much from the Rebels."
"Yes, sir," was all Harlan could reply, shaking his head in admiration. Grand Admiral Grant had predicted every move the Rebellion would take, and he hadn't even put down his cup of tea. Still, uneasiness crept over him as he analyzed the tactical readouts. The X-wings had begun to engage the TIE fighters, and although the tactical advantage was in the Empire's hands, the technological advantage was in the Rebellion's. X-wings were all-around good fighters, complete with shields, proton torpedoes, and a hyperdrive. Harlan grimaced as he realized that the TIE fighters alone would not be a match for the X-wings.
"X-wings are excellent fighters aren't they, Captain?" Grant said, as he stepped beside Harlan and gazed out the viewport at the ensuing battle. Below the Majesty the bright city lights of Coruscant dazzled with sparkling wonder as similar lights from explosions and firepower commenced over the planet's atmosphere. "Our fighters aren't capable of dealing with them one-on-one."
"In that case, shouldn't we be moving the Star Destroyers and the Interdictors to the front?" Harlan asked.
"The Star Destroyers, yes," Grant replied. "The Interdictors," he said smiling, "will stay put for now."
"Yes, sir," Harlan replied, and logged the commands into his data pad.
"Now, back to more pressing matters," Grant said, his tone back to its bored self. "While our dear alien warlord is keeping Thrawn busy, we will be attempting to reunify the already fragmented parts this Empire has become," he took a measured sip of his tea, before continuing. "Fortunately, most of the core of Imperial forces and resources remain allied to us, but there are some strategic elements that can be reintegrated and used to our advantage. Any ideas where to begin?"
"Admiral, is this really the time to discuss such matters?" Harlan inquired. In the Captain's mind, discussing the ramifications of Imperial politics had its proper importance, but never in the middle of a battle.
"We've gone over this before, Captain," Grant reminded him, his lazy tone getting irritated. "Thrawn is a quick thinker. Alien or not, we have to stay two steps ahead of him. And we don't have the luxury of discussing these topics when we're not dealing with the Rebel Alliance." He paused a second to survey the battle scene before continuing. "The mark of a true leader is how he manages to balance both politics and military conduct at the exact same time."
Grant moved back to his chair, sat in it, and then tapped a key on his board. "Starboard batteries: once we are in firing range, concentrate firepower on the nearest Star Cruiser." He touched another key on the board. "All fifth wing pilots to their ships. Launch when ready."
The batteries and TIE wing commander acknowledged, and turbolaser fire began to lance out from the Majesty. For a moment, Harlan just blinked. The fifth wing of ships from a Star Destroyer were TIE bombers. Using TIE bombers in a space-battle? Just what did Grant have in mind? Conventional wisdom showed that the bombers' strategic use did not include a firefight in space. They would certainly be destroyed.
"Trust me, Captain," Grant said into his unspoken worries.
The ships began to exit the Majesty, dashing out from under the protective cover of the Imperial Star Destroyer's wedge-front. Harlan took a look out the viewport, glance back at the displays…and for the slightest of seconds, he was speechless before turning back to the Grand Admiral.
"What did you-" his voice trailed off.
Grant shrugged. "I figured that TIE bombers would be a waste in a battle, so why take up the space in a Star Destroyer when you can replace them with a whole wing of TIE Advance fighters that are far more capable?" He drained the last of his cup concealing the sardonic smile hidden underneath. "I also ordered the same replacements for every Star Destroyer in the Fleet. You can thank the shipyards from Kuat Drive for that."
"Yes, sir," Harlan said, releasing a breath of air he had no idea he was holding. "Next time, clue me in when you make a change to the TIE fighter arrangement on a Star Destroyer. For a moment, I thought you had lost your mind."
"My dear, Captain," Grant said putting down his tea cup, "sometimes you're going to have to play your hand without knowing what's in the other players' hands. And," he regarded with a thoughtful tone, "it always helps when you have an Ace up your sleeve."
The TIE fighters, now with the backing of several wings of TIE Advanced, were holding their own against the X-wings. The Y-wings broke formation and began to enter the space fight. Meanwhile, the other Star Destroyers had followed suit behind the Majesty, and began launching their own wings of TIE Advanced fighters. And the Majesty certainly had no trouble with the Star Cruisers and frigates the Rebels had brought with them. The battle was beginning to turn into an all-out rout.
Three more Star Destroyers dropped out of hyperspace right in front of the Interdictor cruisers. "Ah," Grant said. "At last; the rest of the Fleet is beginning to appear. In moments, we will begin to dismantle the enemy ships."
Harlan had paid too much attention to the TIE fighters to realize that the Interdictor cruisers' gravity-well projectors were still on. And the sudden realization dawned on him. "You purposefully left those Interdictor cruisers stationary so you can feed the coordinates to the Fleet where they would bring the ships directly out of hyperspace at the exact location you desired."
"Very perceptive, Captain," Grant approved. "A trick of the trade among the elite in the Imperial Navy. However," he regarded with some annoyance, "tricks won't work on someone of the likes of Thrawn. I'll have to come up with something more ingenious to deal with him."
"I thought Nuso Esva would handle him," Harlan countered. "That was the plan wasn't it? The warlord would get to distract Thrawn and exact his vengeance, while you ascended to Supreme command and reconcile the Imperial Army and Navy under your leadership."
Grant glanced down at the floor a few seconds before looking back up to face the Captain. "Do you believe in following your instincts, Captain?"
The question caught Harlan off guard. "I suppose," he managed, "when the time dictated for such."
"I do," Grant answered. "It's really the reason why I'm a Grand Admiral." He put the cup of tea down on a small circular table, normally used for holo-projections and tactical analyses. "I often find hunches and instincts little more than the right answer resonating throughout your mind before your reasoning and thought processes can catch up."
There was something in his tone just then. Something ominous, almost deadly. Harlan had spent years with Grand Admiral Grant, but he had never heard such a tone from him. He studied the man's face, the carefully worn white-uniform, the upright but relaxed position he sat in his chair with his leg crossed. And then Grant spoke words that sent shivers down Harlan's spine.
"Nuso Esva is planning to betray us," he said at last.
"How do you know?" Harlan asked, not even realizing he said the words until they left his mouth. It was an almost automated reaction, not a voluntary choice of words voiced from thought.
"Again, Captain, it's a hunch," Grant replied. "But every recorded dealing the warlord has conducted with someone that I can find, he usually betrays the person unless he comes out on top." There was a fire in his eyes, burning fiery hot with anger underneath the cool, controlled exterior of his human frame. "He will betray us, Captain. And I plan to find out what that is."
"And how are you going to do that?" Harlan asked.
"It's quite simple really," Grant said, softly chuckling. "I'm going to ask him."
…
"They say she can see the future," a little girl with blond hair said.
"What a freak," a boy chipped in.
"I bet she's a fake," another boy said.
"Nuh huh," another girl replied back. "She told me my cousin would die in a month, and that's exactly what happened."
And then the sky grew dark. She looked up, scared of what was yet to come. Lightning crackled in the air. The leaves on the trees started to sway violently as the wind suddenly picked up. A flash of lightning glowed throughout the sky. She thought she could make out a picture of a skull in the clouds for an instant. Then a dark creature with glowing red eyes protruded out its arm reaching down for her.
Ellysia finally woke from her dream in a deep sweat. Tonight's wonderful tale consisted of a dream flashback to her childhood with kids teasing her when she told them their future. It was a mistake she never made again. Then, like always the appearance of the dark entity ended it all.
She got out of bed. Wearing a one-piece tan pajama-suit, Ellysia stripped it off, and got into the shower turning the water to hot. Once inside the shower, she closed the glass and slowly slumped into a sitting crouch in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees. Letting the warm water wash over her body was the only way she could figure out how to relax. And so it had been like this for years.
She hadn't been living her time on Endor in a primitive style. On the contrary, and most likely to the chagrin of her former master, Ellysia used her fortune-telling skills to amass a considerable amount of wealth through investments in commodity and mineral prices. By foreseeing the future change in price she would often invest in a certain commodity, than dump it when she caught the signal of a drop in its price. And it was a successful venture for the most part. Her little house on Endor had all the modern luxuries, and that included hot showers.
That was until the day the Empire came. She expected the Emperor to find her, but Ellysia never guessed that an alien Grand Admiral would utilize his personnel to find her first. When she opened the door, instead of a squad of stormtroopers having their gun barrels pointed down her throat, which she was ready with her lightsaber and a blaster drawn to go out guns blazing, she was greeted by short nightmarish figures in brown hoods that almost could've been mistaken for Jawas. Led by one who simply called himself Rukh, Ellysia managed to escape the clutches of the Emperor again.
Later, after being escorted off planet, she found out that the Emperor had set up camp near her locale, complete with building a shield generator and sending a whole battalion of forces, AT-AT's, scout troopers, and AT-ST's. For what it was worth, she couldn't thank Thrawn enough. He was almost likeable for an Imperial commander.
But that was all in the past. Thrawn had to be pretty desperate to call her in, Ellysia figured. Shutting off the water, she wrapped a towel around her mid-section and another around her head. After drying off thoroughly, she glided over to the closet and put on her black-clad garb, then proceeded out the door and to the nearest mess-hall. It was somewhere around midnight, so meals for the graveyard shift would be commencing somewhere. There was only one thing that could calm her mind after one of her night-terrors, and that was a warm cup of cappo from the Rengalian sector. The cooks better hope that cappo was available or there would be hell to pay.
…
The food in the mess hall tasted like what Doran imagined used wall-paper tasted at his mother's house when he was child. Coming out of boxes labeled "Not fit for human consumption" he always wondered if the food-stuff producers had a sense of humor or were dead serious, or thought that Imperials had no common sense and were simply letting them know that the boxes could not be eaten, only what was inside them. In any case, he always managed to empty his plate without grimacing or making a face. Years in the Imperial military did that to a mind.
What he hadn't expected was a gorgeous young woman, around his age by Doran's estimate, to come gliding in the officer cafeteria. While most Imperials would be ogling her luscious body since they hadn't seen women since their last shore leave, Doran just kept to himself and turned in his tray to the dishwasher. It really didn't matter to him. Gorgeous ladies like her weren't kept single for long, and Doran was not the type for relationships nor flings. He went over to the coffee machine and dispensed a cup. Adding cream and sugar to mask the horrible taste, Doran went back to his previous seat where he would be alone and undisturbed.
Except he was no longer alone. And he hoped for her sake he would be left undisturbed. She had a tray of a variety of food. She was apparently sampling the cuisine trying to figure out what tasted good. Amateur. She'd figure out sooner or later that it didn't matter what she got to eat. It all tasted bad.
"I suppose they don't have any cappo here do they?" the girl said.
"No," Doran replied in his gruff voice, "afraid not. We got coffee."
"Is there anywhere on this ship that I can get some?" she asked hopefully.
Doran just stared back at her for a second. "We got coffee," he repeated. "That's all."
"Oh," the girl said, disappointed. For a few minutes the two said nothing. The girl wolfed down her meal, making faces at stomaching some of the food, others she was a little more discrete. Doran meanwhile, just sipped his coffee. He was in no rush to get back to making the rounds. Security on board a Star Destroyer was about the most boring job one could imagine. But somebody had to do it. He couldn't wait until he was reassigned to the 501st and put on another mission. Now that had excitement.
"So how was it?" Doran asked as the girl finished her meal.
She blinked. "The food? About what you'd expect. Horrible taste and nothing else."
"Tell me about it," he said and drained the last of his cup. "You'd think they get something as simple as coffee right. And they still manage to screw it up." He glanced at his chrono. "Well, better get back to my shift." He got up and then made one final comment. "You'd do best to hide that lightsaber Princess," he warned. "Many on this ship get uncomfortable seeing that thing."
"That's the point," she replied. "Don't care much about what people think, and if they stay away so much the better."
"Yeah, join the club."
…
It had been twelve hours since the siege started, and Admiral Niriz finally decided to give the order. "All ion cannons, cease fire."
Almost a dozen of the Empire of the Hand's Imperial Star Destroyers had arrived out of hyperspace and had taken defense formations around the planet Nirauan. However, Nuso Esva's forces had received reinforcements as well, and now the two armies faced each other in the dead heat of space awaiting a face off.
"I still don't understand why they haven't fired yet," Colonel Ringer hissed through his teeth, another cigarra in the corner of his mouth. "What in the Force's name are they waiting for?"
Niriz stared out one of the windows of command center in their fortress. What were they waiting for indeed? "I really don't know," he confessed. "But in any case, it buys us time to await Grand Admiral Thrawn's return. By all counts, they should have advanced on the fortress." He sighed a little. "But I suppose that they'll settle for a blockade. They knew that the taking the fortress wouldn't be easy, and our reinforcements would arrive. I guess Nuso Esva is waiting for a better opportunity to launch an attack."
"Well, if you ask me, that opportunity has escaped them now," Ringer replied, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice.
Niriz frowned a little. "That doesn't sound like Nuso Esva to miss an opportunity. He's up to something, Colonel. We just have to figure out what it is."
"Either that, or hope that the Grand Admiral figures it out and saves us all," replied Ringer.
…
The Imperial shuttle craft slowly glided to a halt in the hanger bay of the Star Destroyer Majesty, its one occupant being the pilot. The meeting was to be kept in the utmost secrecy. Grand Admiral Grant would not have it any other way.
Standing impatiently with his first officer at his side, Captain Harlan watched as the ramp of the shuttle lowered to the deck and wondered if having him onboard was a truly good idea.
Walking down the ramp, the sole occupant, was a male standing two meters tall, wearing a dark cloaked hood, and a strange metal mask that had some sort of breathing tube attached to it. Of course all of this was a ploy to hide the true identity of the creature underneath the façade.
"Lord Odo," Captain Harlan addressed the alien, "welcome on board the Majesty. Admiral Grant has arranged us to meet in the Admiral's mess hall."
Breathing raspy through the mask's air duct, Odo responded with a slight nod. "Very well," he said.
The mess hall was located just a few level's under the Star Destroyer's command superstructure, directly adjacent from the Admiral's quarters to provide ease of access for the commander. Only top diplomats of the Empire were ever invited to that particular dining room. Captain Harlan felt especially privileged to have sampled the fine cuisine on more than one occasion when Grand Admiral Grant had invited him to do so. But for now, there was important business to discuss, and the Admiral's personal dining room was as good a place as any to have what was going to be, a controversial discussion, to say the least.
The two entered the turbo lift, the first officer returning to the bridge to perform his duties, leaving only the Captain and the mysterious Lord Odo to rendezvous with Admiral Grant. In the end, there wasn't really any mystery about Lord Odo, to those who knew who he really was. Beneath that exterior and false identity of an Imperial noble with a breathing handicap lurked the most dangerous warlord in the galaxy. Captain Harlan wondered if Nuso Esva realized that he knew who was behind the mask of Lord Odo.
The turbolift halted and together the two strode down the hallway before taking the last door on the right. Inside, one round ivory table was prepared, the others presumably relocated and out of the way. The lights were dimmed and a soft human opera from a world Harlan was not familiar with was playing ever so softly. The instruments provided a very soothing harmony of precision and beauty to the human ear. Harlan postulated if that same relaxing feeling flowed through an alien as well.
And in the center of the round ivory table sat the newly minted supreme commander of the entire Imperial military forces.
"Ah, Lord Odo," Grand Admiral Grant said, raising his glass of red Brualski wine to the visitor, "the man of the hour. Or at least," Grant regarded with a wry humor, "the alien of the hour."
Lord Odo inclined his head slightly, then proceeded to take his seat across the table from Grand Admiral Grant. Harlan similarly took his seat adjacent from the two. The trio formed an almost perfect triangle seated around the table.
With almost a deliberately slow movement of the hands to draw out the suspense, Lord Odo released the clasps on his mask and revealed his face. His skin shimmered different colors with an otherworldly brightness, and his eyes played a strange reflection of yellow. But other than those two things, he was a humanoid. At a distance he could almost pass himself off as a human. A humanoid, like a certain Grand Admiral that Harlan did not take too kindly.
For a moment the two sat there studying each other. "So," Nuso Esva spoke at last, "why have you summoned me here?"
Grant smiled with a knowing gleam in his eye. "Shouldn't it be obvious?"
Esva just stared back unblinking.
"You take me for a fool," Grant said with a derisive snort. "All right. I'll tell you. I want to know who you're other benefactor is."
"Ah," Esva nodded and leaned back slightly in his chair. "So what do you want to know?"
"Tell me…everything," Grant said. His smile was still there, but now there was an edge of steel behind it. "We agreed that we wouldn't be keeping secrets from each other warlord," he continued threateningly. "I would hate to have to terminate our relationship. Especially, after it has been so beneficial to the both of us."
"Hah," Esva breathed through his teeth. "And exactly how has it been beneficial to me? You called me away from taking Thrawn's precious gem for this?"
For a moment, Grant just glared back at him. Harlan observed the Grand Admiral. Years of serving with the officer gave the Captain deep insight into reading Admiral Grant's expressions. And Harlan knew exactly what he was thinking. Did Nuso Esva take him for a fool?
"Let's see, now," Grant started. "The Emperor's death has distracted Grand Admiral Thrawn from leading his campaign against your forces. And while he has been off chasing shadows in the Endor system, you have conveniently led your warships, some of which I supplied to you, in an assault on Thrawn's base on Nirauan, a base that you had no knowledge of until I supplied you with the intel." He paused a moment and leaned back into his own chair mirroring Esva's movement just a few moments before. "Now, tell me about your other partner."
"I can do better than that," Esva countered. "How about I arrange for you to meet him?"
For a moment, Grant said nothing, probably expecting a trap from Harlan's observation. "I take it, you'll want me to meet him alone?"
"Not at all," Esva declared. "I have nothing to hide. And neither does he. So, do we have a deal?"
"In that case," Grant said smiling, "We have a deal."