Chapter 11 – A Storm Brewing
Grand Admiral Tious Markhan was in no good mood. True, Ryloth was in Commander Antham's hands, and it made for the perfect location of staging an attack on the New Republic, along with Yaga Minor, but Joral's betrayal had cost them their cover. The New Republic government could now be certain of an impending strike at their borders, and they would prepare for it. Well. He had planned to dissemble the government peacefully, but since that was no longer an option, he would simply have to do this the hard way. Yana Dar, once she was here, would ensure the loyalty of the hard-core followers of the Empire, and her diplomatic skills would soon gain her the trust of the court. What did it matter that it was himself, Tious Markhan, who ruled? As long as people were content they would not protest.
The door to his office chimed open and admitted Franzis Sarreti. The Lieutenant had spent the past days on a diplomatic mission of his own, preparing the sector commanders for the events to come. Nodding at the young man, Tious sat down behind his desk, not bothering to offer his aide a seat. Protocol would have forbidden Sarreti to accept anyway.
"What do you have for me?" he asked softly.
"The negotiations were successful. Most agreed, and those who did not will soon realize the error of their disagreement. But there is something else I picked up on my way here." Sarreti held up a datacard. "Intelligence recorded this on the official channels."
"Let's see it, then."
The Lieutenant activated the holorecorder and started playing the message. It was an official government announcement from the New Republic, featuring President Mon Mothma in regal finery. Raising her head high the auburn-haired woman gave the cameras a cool glance.
"Gentlebeings of the New Republic," she began, her voice gentle, yet firm, "dire news have reached us from the Outer Rim. Apparently Grand Admiral Thrawn has decided to end his alliance with the New Republic and has started an attack on our borders. We can and will contain this threat, and I want to make it clear that this is not an act of war against the Imperial remnant. Our information is incomplete as of yet, but we are evaluating a range of different approaches to counter this attack. Again, we are not at war."
She gave the cameras a stern nod. "However, I also warn the Imperial remnant not to try and take advantage of our situation. Any attack on their behalf will be met with maximum resistance. To clarify rumors that seem to have infected the New Republic worlds: yes, the Empire has reclaimed the planet Ryloth. We will respect that claim for as long as they do not violate the basic rights of the people of Ryloth. I am given to understand that this is not an occupation of the planet, but our diplomatic corps will ascertain the truth of this statement."
A sudden smile lit up her face when one of her aides rushed over to hand her a holocard. "I have just received news that Minister of State Leia Organa has been safely recovered and is on her way back to Coruscant." A small cheer went up from the people surrounding her. "Thank you for your attention." Inclining her head with the smile still in place, Mon Mothma's image dissolved into static.
Tious stared at the screen for some time, his thoughts spinning. "She did not mention Zsinj," he stated at last, "or that Organa ever was an Imperial prisoner. She says the New Republic respects our claim and at the same time warns us not to interfere. But," and here he could not suppress a gleeful smile, "she bought the story with Thrawn. Of course," he added, "that still leaves us at a loss as to what agenda the New Republic is pursuing."
"They obviously do not want to provoke us, knowing that we are the superior force," his aide suggested quietly.
"Yes, yes, of course, but I know Lord Vader. He would never agree to this."
"Then perhaps Lord Vader has nothing to say in the government any longer."
"And what was that about their diplomats ascertaining the truth of our statement? Who supposedly made that statement anyway? And I am certain that there are no New Republic diplomats on Ryloth." A frown appeared on the Grand Admiral's face. "I want to talk to General Zi'Assime. At once."
"Yes, sir."
The General seemed to have a premonition of what was to come, for his first words were: "Yaga Minor is secured for now, but I have bad news, sir."
"Yes," Tious hissed, "this particular bad news has already reached me. Am I right to assume that you were equally unable to hold on to Roganda Ismaren and Nasdra Magrody?"
"Yes, sir, they are gone. According to my troops Nasdra Magrody was last seen with the bounty-hunter Boba Fett, and Roganda Ismaren with the Princess, who left aboard the Millennium Falcon."
"Fett?" The Grand Admiral sat up in surprise. "I thought we had ordered him to get rid of Solo and Calrissian?"
"A command he obviously did not heed. Personally I suspect Joral of treason."
"Which would not be the first time he's betrayed us," Tious growled softly. "So, Ismaren on her way to Coruscant, undoubtedly, where she will shed light on what is really going on aboard the Executor, if we are correct."
"My scouts confirmed that Zsinj's fleet was annihilated at Ord Mantell."
"But was it the Executor?"
"That we will have to ascertain."
"No. You will do no such thing. You, my dear General, will sit very still and do nothing until I require your services again. I will have to sort out the mess you have gotten us into first, before we can strike. Is it safe to assume that Zsinj is dead?"
"Yes. His personal flagship, the Iron Fist, was reportedly completely destroyed."
"Ah, that is some good news after all. The other good news, of course, is that we won't have need of Professor Magrody after all. How are your agents' efforts in tracking Admiral Piett proceeding?"
"They should have him secured any time now."
"Should!" Tious snapped in annoyance. "I want hard facts, General. Promises won't buy us victory. I am sending Major Olade to assist you in establishing a forward base on Yaga Minor. That is all."
Once the General's face had vanished, Tious immediately proceeded in contacting the Victorious. Commander Antham was on the line instantly.
"Sir, how may I be of service?"
"Ryloth is secured?"
"Yes, sir. The rebels have been detained, just as you suggested. I do not expect any more resistance."
"Well, then let's hope your expectations are met. Have your troops question the prisoners. I want to find out if there are any New Republic agents with them. The convoy left on schedule?"
"Yes, sir. No problems there."
The Grand Admiral exhaled noiselessly. "Excellent," he breathed. "You will prepare yourself to receive a New Republic representative at Kala'uun. Our claims to the planet are legitimate and I want them to understand that they have no right to interfere at all. Clear?"
"Yes, clear. Sir," here the Commander hesitated just a fraction, "is it true that Grand Admiral Thrawn is attacking the New Republic?"
"That is just a ruse, Commander. You have your orders. Markhan out."
"That convoy, is that the one that is taking Yana Dar to Byss?" Franzis Sarreti asked quietly from where he was still standing in front of the desk.
"Yes. They will make a stopover at Garqui to pick up supplies. I have already ordered security to have an eye on that convoy. Another surprise like that one in Hutt Space and we might as well throw our strategy over board."
"What are we going to do about Joral?"
"Nothing as of yet. I wonder who they will send to Ryloth. Someone experienced, a politician, of course." His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Does a name come to mind?"
Padmé was hanging on to her husband with all her strength. It felt so good to be held in his arms, so good to feel his strength and calm, so incredibly good to share her joy with him. Leia was coming home. Her face pressed against his chest she was very still, listening to his heart-beat, her own blood pounding in her ears at a fast, steady pace that betrayed her own excitement.
Outside of their apartment's viewport Coruscant went on about its daily business and speeders and cargo barges filled the space lanes busily. Yet that busyness could not compare with what was going on inside Padmé's mind. Now that her daughter was safe she had to suppress the urge to worry about her son. With what Karrde had revealed to them that was a very hard job, and so she was battling herself constantly, to prevent her tears of joy to turn into anxiety.
"It will be all right," Anakin mumbled in her ear as he picked up on her warring emotions, and he rubbed a hand along her back soothingly. She buried her nose into his shirt and heaved a deep sigh.
"I know. It is just – " Looking up into his blue eyes she could not find the strength to smile. "I had to give them up for so long and we have been together for only a year now. I do not want them to be so far away ever again."
"They are grown up. We must accept that they have their own lives to live."
"Don't you miss the time we lost? The time we could have spent watching them play as children, sharing their joy and sorrow, everything?"
His face turned harder as he gazed into the distance, perhaps picturing what she had just described. "I do," he answered hoarsely at last and Padmé felt her stomach clench with regret.
In front of her inner eyes she saw little Leia again, back on Alderaan when she had left her to flee to Chandrila. That had been just as hard as leaving Luke behind on Tatooine, even if it had been for their best. "Sometimes," she said softly, "sometimes I think they must hate us for what we did to them."
Anakin squeezed her shoulders gently. "Don't ever try to take the blame, Padmé. If it was anyone's fault it was mine and you know it."
She smiled at that. "Always the valiant knight. I should have known you would say that ... But you are wrong. If you had not done what you did, our children would be dead now, or worse. I am thankful for what has happened, even if the price we paid was horrendous."
"Perhaps you are right," he offered hesitantly. "I have not thought about it that way in a long time."
"Do you think Luke will be safe?"
"I hope so. I hope it very much."
Padmé patted her husband's shoulder affectionately as she disengaged from his embrace. "Come. We have another meeting coming up," she told him wearily. He did not answer, and when she looked up at him he gazed at her curiously. "What?"
A sudden smile lit up his face. "You know, I just thought that we may be given the chance to watch their children grow up. Do you think that will ease some of the regret we feel for not having been able to share that with them?"
"I am sure it will!" she laughed and went forward to hug him once again. "Do you want to break it to Leia or shall I?"
"They think you are leading the attack!" Irek was laughing out loud, his eyes shining with incredulity. His honest mirth was somewhat lost on the Grand Admiral, who stood in front of the command chair and gave the youth a very cold look. He had recognized the maneuver as a trap designed to goad the Executor into assuming a more predictable course of action. From what he had seen form Irek so far it was clear that the boy would fall for it too.
"A foolish assumption," Thrawn said under his breath, meaning Irek's comment, but the boy interpreted the whispered words differently.
"Foolish?" Irek straightened abruptly and his blue eyes seemed to want to bore a hole into the Chiss' skull. "Why foolish? Why should you not decide to destroy that pitiful republic?"
"Of course," the Grand Admiral answered smoothly, "it might be an option, But not without the Empire's consent and back-up."
"My mother is working on that," the young man countered pensively.
"Indeed. She hopes to rally them behind you and the Executor."
"Do you think it might work?"
"I am almost positive that it will have the desired effect." Let Irek work that one out. The desired effect, of course, was dependent on one's point of view and Thrawn for one was certain that the Executor's presence in New Republic space would indeed rally a respectable fleet. Just not one that was inclined to follow, except in pursuit.
"Then we should choose a suitable target, don't you think? A planet?" Leaning forward eagerly, Irek was staring at him like a man at the brink of starvation.
Thrawn felt slightly uncomfortable with the way Irek had been treating him since that unfortunate incident at Ord Mantell. One moment he acted like a man meeting a child-hood idol, the next he did not bother to hide his contempt for everything the Grand Admiral stood for. It was as if he had not yet decided what it should be, worship or hatred. He had not mentioned Roganda again until today either, and somehow Thrawn believed that to be a bad omen. "Not a planet," he said calmly. "If you threaten civilians you might lose support rather than gain it. It is a game of strategy and tactics and it is considered to be reserved exclusively to the military."
"The military," Irek echoed, the fervent student once more. "So, if I am in command of this ship, I can play the game against other commanders?"
"Yes."
The boy gave a sharp nod. "Good!" A smile spread on his young face, half malevolent glee, half wonder. "Then I will find us a target and then we shall play."
Admiral Tomas Piett was in trouble. He had noticed the men shadowing him just five minutes earlier and already he was certain that they would not be easily fooled by the usual game of hide and seek. Well, it had been too good to last. After having secured the allegiances of Chandrila and its neighbors, he had traveled to Obora-skai, knowing full well that Imperial space was just a few clicks away. Yet he had deemed it necessary to have an asset close to the border, both out of tactical and political reasons. Additionally Obroa-skai featured one of the most extensive libraries in the galaxy, aside from the one on Coruscant. It contained knowledge he believed should not be given up to the Imperial remnant that easily.
Unfortunately Obora-skai knew of its worth and he expected the negotiations to be the hardest so far – if he even got the chance to start them at all. Steering his rented speeder into another side alley, he mused about how to proceed. If he simply walked into the government complex, he could not be certain if an Imperial representative had not arrived ahead of him, and that could become very awkward indeed. Obroa-skai was neutral ground, officially, after the attack by Imperial forces had been blunted in the last war, all but claiming the planet for the Rebel Alliance. No one had asked the population of Obroa-skai what government they preferred, though, if given the chance.
Over the past weeks he had been extremely lucky in his negotiations, but then, he had selected the easiest targets to begin his mission. Chandrila had played a vital part in the past war and the death of Governor Gorji Tieman at Grand Admiral Thrawn's orders had ensured the planet's loyalty to the Alliance. Now, with the New Republic building up its influence, Chandrila and its neighbours had more to gain from joining the Republic, if the Empire did not make some fundamental changes in the way it worked. Not much chance of that happening.
It were the worlds untouched by the war that had the Admiral more concerned. How would systems like Kuat react? He could not be certain. And yet it was vital for the new government to gain allies fast, although it also brought dangers with it, since the Empire would not allow the New Republic to take over just like that. Additionally he suspected that some people even agreed with the Empire's rule, people like the governors and moffs, who only stood to lose, should the New Republic win this diplomatic war.
Therefore Tomas Piett strongly suspected that his stalkers were indeed Imperial agents who would try to neutralize him quietly, or not so quietly, depending on what course of action the Empire chose to take. They could afford another war easily, contrary to the Republic. As expected, the stalkers followed him at a respectful distance. Six swoops, agile craft that was perfect for a ground pursuit, but fairly useless in combat. Calling up a city map, he noticed that they were trying to herd him toward a less populated area, where undoubtedly another team was waiting to strike. But he knew Obroa-skai fairly well, and there might be a chance to lose his pursuers.
He jerked the controls upward and the speeder shot skyward at high speed. The six swoops followed instinctively, intent only on their quarry. A few moments later the Admiral was hailed by flight security.
"Aircraft 134, you are not authorized to use the upper flight lanes. Please return to ground immediately," a bored voice announced over the security patrol speeder's loudspeaker system.
He switched to an emergency channel that could be received by the patrol. "Negative," Piett responded calmly. "Have lost control over steerage."
"How can anyone loose control over a speeder?" the flight controller was wondering angrily. At that moment the swoops bore down on the two speeders and if they did not want to provoke a collision, both the larger vehicles had to give up their position. "What the – " the flight controller cursed. "Emergency in sector 15!" he yelled, undoubtedly calling for reinforcements.
Suddenly the comm console on the speeder's control board started blinking. Piett accepted the call with a wry grimace. "What can I do for you?"
"Too bad you want to go play this the hard way, Admiral," a breathy voice told him. "Are you in for a rough ride?"
Forgoing an answer, Tomas let his speeder veer off toward the ground once more. He was not an ace pilot, his field of expertise lying more in matters of tactics and strategy, and he was certain that the swoop gang had far better control over their craft than he did. Undoubtedly they knew that, too. "Execute cruise speed 7 and switch to auto-pilot," he ordered the speeder control quietly. The computer did as commanded and Piett unholstered his blaster while twisting out of the flight harness. He punched the lock of the exit hatch and found that it was locked. Security protocol, of course. A quick examination showed that the speeder's interior was not shielded, luckily, and a single shot from his blaster burned the hatch lock away easily. Two hard kicks sent it flying into the air and tumbling away.
Risking a look he saw that two security patrols were now hard on their trail. The speeder performed a bone-jarring break and turn to avoid crashing into a building and Piett was well aware of the fact that at this high speed every second could mean doom for him and the vehicle. But he was almost there. Up ahead a tunnel opened up and he was closing in on it fast. "Execute cruise speed 4 and angle seven degrees left." The speeder did a drunken turn and, holding on to the crash harness as the vehicle slowed abruptly, Piett vaulted the exit hatch and used the speeder's tilt to the left to cushion his fall as he dropped to the ground in the shadow of the tunnel wall. Rolling with the movement he hoped very much that he had fooled his pursuers into believing that he was still on board the speeder.
Tomas Piett crouched in the shadows and lifted his blaster slowly. Taking aim he let off three shots aimed at the speeder fuelage. The vehicle exploded in a glorious fire-ball and to his great satisfaction took three of the swoops into oblivion with it. Unfortunately that still left three more.
He turned and raced for the tunnel mouth and into the open again. Overhead the two security patrol speeders hovered uncertainly. The roar of approaching craft was the Admiral's sole warning before the remaining pursuers veered around and sped toward the tunnel opening once more. But they had forgotten one thing. Two meters away from the smiling Admiral the swoops slowed dramatically and a red holo signal flashed above their riders' heads, reminding them that they were taking the wrong direction. Tunnel security had short-circuited the swoops' engines, a useful installation to prevent accidents, or to shake off all too eager pursuers.
The two security patrols were slowly descending toward the ground and Piett knew that he should not remain much longer. If the Empire truly had moved into Obroa-skai, it would not look good to have himself arrested in a silly speeder chase. On the other hand they might offer protection. The whine of a swoop coming from up ahead surprised him, though. Had he lost count of his pursuers? The swoop pulled up beside him and the rider, wearing goggles and black gloves, urged him to join her on the vehicle. Making a split-second decision, Piett took the offer.
"You are hard to find, Admiral!" the woman shouted as he swung himself onto the craft behind her.
"Who are you?" he shouted back.
"Raisa Tobyn. No time to chat now, just hang on." Without another word she let the swoop accelerate again, headed for what he dearly hoped was safety.
Evening was coming on already on Coruscant and the meeting was still not finished. "We are giving them a chance to solve this diplomatically and avert a war," Padmé was just saying. "Should they cross us now, they will lose face if they truly attack. Anakin, you said that the scheme, as far as we have uncovered it until now, warrants the suspicion that Markhan wanted to try a civil offensive first. Do you think he will hold to that strategy?"
Anakin shook his head and placed his hands on the table in front of him slowly. "Knowing Markhan, the answer must be no. Remember, he still has more than enough troops to defeat us the conventional way. Of course he now risks renewed rebellion, should he strike." He gave Mon Mothma a questioning glance. "How are the opinion polls?"
"Very good, actually," the President replied. "The majority agrees with my course of action."
"That is indeed good news," the Dark Lord said with a smile. "The question is, though, if they will sanction another war, should it come to that."
"They'll have to bear with us, won't they?" Padmé injected with a smile. "It's not as if they had a choice."
"Not quite true," Mon Mothma explained. "It really depends on Ryloth now. If they state that the Imperial forces truly are not an occupational force then the Empire will have a point in their favor and our not so subtle accusations will cost us." She threw a tired look at Anakin. "Lord Skywalker, your agent has not reported back yet?"
"No. I am not even sure if he is still alive."
"Which would be a shame. If we could have proof that the Empire's actions are anything but legal ..." The door opened and an aide took a timid step into the meeting room. "Yes?" Mon Mothma asked mildly.
"Madam, General Page has returned from his mission. And a Noghri, who claims to be one of your agents, Lord Skywalker."
"That would be Andarack," Anakin explained. "Why didn't General Page check in once he was safely on his way here?"
"Perhaps we should ask him personally," Padmé told him with a smile and laid a hand on his arm. A warm tingle spread through his entire body at her touch and he in turn moved to cover her tiny hand in his affectionately. She gave him one of her beautiful smiles and for a moment everything else was forgotten. Only the arrival of both Andarack and Telmann Page broke the spell. Mon Mothma rose from her seat, an uncharacteristically impatient move from her.
"Welcome home, General!" she exclaimed and gave Page a short nod. "Excuse the hurry, but your report might change everything."
His lips twisted into a grim line as he stood to attention, and his eyes hardened all of a sudden. "I fear it will do exactly that," he began, his voice rough and full of emotion. What Anakin could sense from him was mostly determination, but also suppressed fear.
"Please proceed," Mon Mothma told the General, sitting back down, her eyes wide in anticipation.
"Very well. I met with Lord Skywalker's agent, Cesh Kendar, at Kala'uun, and he introduced me to a local rebel cell, which was busted the very night by Imperial troops."
"A coincidence?" Padmé inquired wth a frown marring her face.
"Hardly that," Telmann Page snorted softly. "The rebels had been set up by an old friend of ours. Apparently Roj Kell promised them his assistance, only to sell them out to the Empire. He told me personally that he had not wanted their rebellion to succeed. But I am ahead of myself. Apparently the Empire wanted to start a rebellion, too, once the Princess had been brought to Nal Hutta."
"A distraction, I see," Mon Mothma mused aloud. "The Hutts would have been busy with quelling the rebellion on Ryloth, while our troops would descend on Nal Hutta to free Leia. And we would have gotten rid of the Hutts for Markhan that way, without him having to spare troops himself, giving him the chance to attack our borders at his leisure."
"Yes. That was the plan. Roj Kell countered that move by initiating a rebellion at an earlier point of time, thereby forcing the Empire to come to their ally's aid, whether they wanted it or not."
"So Joral is truly allied with Markhan!" Padmé exclaimed.
"Was, my lady. I was captured on Ryloth, along with Roj Kell, and we were both brought before Joral. Kell told the Hutt to the face, and in presence of the Captain conducting the Imperial operations, that Markhan was using him as bait for our troops. For some reason Joral had anticipated that and had the Imperial captain shot. He had a message for the New Republic and the Empire."
"Which would be?" the President asked suspiciously.
"He says the Hutts will not interfere. If we need assistance in regards to Ryloth, though, he will give it gladly."
"What about the message for the Empire?"
"The message clearly states that the Hutts will not interfere in the Empire's struggle with the New Republic, but that their deal is ended. The curious thing is, that Joral believed Roj Kell acted on someone else's orders, someone with the Imperial remnant, but not Markhan. Apparently that same someone had supplied the Hutt with insider information."
"Interesting," Anakin conceded. "So we have conflicting interests within the Empire, but we already knew that. Who carried that message?"
"Roj Kell."
Anakin gave a low chuckle. Roj Kell headed toward Imperial space? "He agreed?"
"Yes. By the way, Yana Dar is accompanying him."
Telmann Page could see that this particular piece of information hardly thrilled the assembly. Not that he had expected it to. And that had not even been the bad news. He shifted his shoulders in some discomfort and folded his hands on his back to keep them still as he continued: "That is not all. I do not know whether we can safely assume that Yana Dar is allied with Markhan – "
"She is not, " Anakin Skywalker interrupted him calmly. "We have been able to confirm that, at least."
"Good. That's something after all, to know that we have an ally who is now unfortunately in the Grand Admiral's hands," the General replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone.
"Who says she is an ally of ours?"
"I see. Anyway," he interrupted himself, focusing again on his report, "Kell told me that the Chiss are being invaded as we speak. With the loss of the Executor and Thrawn that leaves them pretty vulnerable, I should think. Perhaps I should add that it was Kell who provoked said invaders into attacking the Chiss. He was very clear on that. He said that we needed to focus again on survival or something to that effect."
"What?" Jumping up from his seat the Dark Lord stared at Page in disbelief. "Why would he do that?"
"I have no idea. Perhaps he has simply lost it."
"No, no," Skywalker said impatiently, "it is not that. But what is his goal? Now that we have achieved balance...." he let his voice trail off and they could see his thoughts ticking away relentlessly. The conclusion he came to did not seem to be a happy one, though. "I see," the Dark Lord breathed at last, before he went to sit down again. "So, Yana Dar in Markhan's clutches, Kell supposedly too, and the Chiss are tied up in fighting off an invasion. which means that the Empire has no need to watch their backs."
"That about says it all," Page commented. "Except for the Hutts. I believe we can rely on Joral to keep his hands out of this."
"Yes," Mon Mothma answered. "The Empire might not know what is going on in the Unknown Regions, but they will find out, should those invaders manage to get past the Chiss. Fact is that we are facing an invasion too, and we cannot spare anyone." Her dark eyes hardened all of a sudden. "You, Padmé, will leave for Ryloth today. They are undoubtedly expecting that anyway, but there will be no offical announcement either. I will give you the necessary documents to prove that Cesh Kendar has diplomatic status. Andarack may accompany you as bodyguard. Lord Skywalker, your mission to Honoghr will have to wait. General Page, I will need you here, until Admiral Piett is back. I have already alerted Captain Needa to our situation and he is the process of assembling a battle-group to counter the Executor's attack, should it come. We need to neutralize that threat before Grand Admiral Markhan decides to strike. Everything else will have to wait until Leia has returned from Yaga Minor."
The President leaned back in her chair and a smile lit up her face unexpectedly. "Lord Skywalker is right, we have achieved balance, and if we handle this situation well, the wildfire will burn itself out before it can become critical. This is our test, as a new republic. I know that I can rely on you all to do your job to the best of your knowledge and abilities. I want to tell you here and now, that I trust you with the fate of the New Republic. That is all. Thank you. Lord Skywalker, a word with you, if you please," she added.
Telmann Page found himself leaving the meeting room at the Senior Analyst's side, and she promptly lay a hand on his arm to gain his attention. "General," she said softly, "I would appreciate it greatly if you could outline conditions on Ryloth for us." Here she nodded at the Noghri, who had been keeping silent thus far and was now hovering at Padmé's other side.
"Of course," Page replied smoothly. "Come. Let's go find someplace quiet. My office will do, I believe."
The Star Destroyer Eisenhart was cruising peacefully through space in the middle of nowhere; a phalanx of three more Star Destroyers, two Mon Calamari cruisers and numerous corvettes accompanied the flagship of the New Republic's Second Fleet. Its commander, Captain Lorth Needa, was currently fighting hard against falling asleep at his desk. He knew he should rest, but the news out of Coruscant had been overwhelming and had kept him busy for the past 34 hours, non-stop. With the situation on Ryloth not yet solved he could not possibly demand that his group be joined by the First and Third, and they had not enough ships anyway. Additionally he did not believe in pulling too large a contingent together, because no matter how efficient the troops, small groups were always more agile.
"So, we will have three more ships joining us over the next two days," he mused aloud. "The question is, even if the Executor's commander takes the insult as bait, where will he strike?"
The intercomm interrupted his thoughts brutally and as he accepted the call he gave a weary smile: "That answers that question, then."
"Captain to the bridge please, we have something here, coming out of hyperspace fast," Commander Teer Shikay's voice was terse, and Needa shook his head tiredly.
"It's not the Executor, is it?"
"How did you guess, sir?"
Suddenly wide awake, Lorth Needa leapt to his feet, not bothering to answer his second's weak attempt at a joke. This was certainly not the time for that. Jogging toward the bridge amidst the wail of alarm sirens, he pulled his commlink from his belt and contacted Shikay again: "Establish a channel to Coruscant, live-feed. I want them to see what is going on out here. Scramble all fighter squadrons and move into pyramid formation. Flagship top."
"Yes, sir. At once."
Now we'll see how good their commander really is, the Captain thought grimly to himself. Of course, if it's Thrawn, we are already dead.
"Luck," Erinin commented coolly as the fleet up ahead moved into position. Or maybe not, considering that Irek had led them here like a Nek who had picked up the scent of wounded prey. Those four Star Destroyers and two giant Mon Cal cruisers certainly did not look like easy meat, but then, this ship had delivered a killing blow to the forces assembled against them at Ord Mantell. Or rather, Irek had. The bodyguard turned his head tentatively to look at the boy sitting in the command chair, a simile of his father, with his blue eyes boring into infinity and his hands clenching the armrests of his seat as he sat poised for action, intent only on the fleet ahead.
The absence of a guard standing at his back was confirmation for what had happened back at Ord Mantell. Irek would not allow anyone to advise or protect him any longer; he had seized control and meant to keep it. Even Erinin was subject to that rule and the boy had outright reprimanded him for ever having brought up eliminating Thrawn after the battle at Ord Mantell had ended. Have a care, my friend, that you do not become the liability you describe the Grand Admiral to be. The bodyguard remembered the look in Irek's eyes most vividly. Much older than his years, more vicious than ever before. Resuming his study of the enemy ships, Erinin felt uncertain for the very first time in eighteen years.
All of the Emperor's hopes seemed to have been set into his son, but perhaps Palpatine had been mistaken about his heir. And maybe he had not revealed all of his entire plan to his loyal servant. Erinin strongly suspected that now, and even though he had been brought up not to question orders, he was wondering of what use a madman could be to the Empire.
His eyes wandered toward the Chiss seated in one of the many spare seats that had been left after the original crew had been eliminated. Grand Admiral Thrawn looked the worst for wear, his features slack and his glowing eyes dimmed somewhat. He must be suffering greatly, with the fate of his troops uncertain and hope far out of reach. Yet his gaze was that of a warrior, taking in the situation of his ship automatically.
The bodyguard saw the Grand Admiral frown suddenly, apparently noticing something odd about the enemy fleet's defensive pattern. Erinin thought that for a split-second Thrawn considered looking back at Irek to check if the boy had seen what he had. It was a measure of the man's condition that his usually cool composure had cracked like this. Yet for some perverse reason Erinin chose not to inform the boy of this interesting slip.
"Navigator, bring her up to attack speed." The soft voice was that of a stranger, even if it came from Irek's mouth.
Toss Halan, acting as navigator, complied without a word. They had all seen what had happened to Thrawn and they all knew that they were walking a thin line between survival and certain doom. Unfortunately Irek held both ends of the string. Anticipating the boy's next order, Erinin moved over to the weapons control station.
"Weapons' status on level seven," he announced quietly and for a moment Irek spared him a somewhat surprised glance that faded into amusement.
"Excellent. Well done." The sarcastic sting in that apparent praise hurt more than the bodyguard cared to admit to himself. But the boy delighted in the older man's disappointment and suffering pride. "Perhaps you are of some use yet," Irek added maliciously. Suddenly his tone changed to something harsher. "The gunners are in position. Shields?"
"Hundred percent," Anjuri replied, his voice shaking.
"Erinin. Give me a count ten to zero for the weapons' range."
"Five," the bodyguard began coolly and suppressed a smirk," – four – three – two – one – zero." A hailstorm of laser bolts impacted against their shields as the blackness of space turned into dozens of TIE fighters making a strafing run along the giant warship. "What the –"
"Let those pitiful craft not disturb you," Irek told him as he joined the older man to study the weapons control unit's display intently. Instincively Erinin moved aside. There was something about the boy, a dark presence that repulsed him.
"My lord," Halan called out, "our current course sends us directly into their formation!"
"They'll scatter and present suitable targets for our guns," the boy replied confidently. "They cannot possibly believe they can stand against this ship." His eyes took on a fervent light. "We are invincible and they know it."
"She's taken the bait, sir," Commander Shikay announced solemnly, his eyes never leaving the radar.
A tiny sigh of relief wrought itself from Lorth Needa's throat. "Thank the Force for small miracles. I suppose that means the Grand Admiral truly is dead." He nodded to himself and his mood sombered again. Thrawn had been possibly the best strategist this galaxy had ever seen, and his death would weigh heavy on the future developments in the galaxy. Right now though that did not matter, he knew, all that did was the battle ahead. "Recall the fighters for a weave-and-scissor maneuver. At my mark."
"At once. Flight commanders, check in, please," Shikay spoke calmly into his head comm. The TIE flight commanders rattled off their names and status swiftly.
"Commander, we will engage the enemy in thirty seconds. I want this formation to drop into a sphere once the Executor has crossed the event horizon. Alert the other ship commanders and keep them online"
"As ordered."
Leaning forward, the Captain narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the approaching Super Star Destroyer, tracking its response fire. "First flight is to make a scouting run over the surface. How many intact gun emplacements?" While Shikay relayed the order, Needa was so intent on the TIEs assembling at the rear of the Executor that he almost missed the incoming call. He turned his head to throw Communications a questioning glance.
"It's Coruscant, sir," the woman said apologetically.
"Why didn't you say so, then?" the Captain asked coolly, but ignored her flustered apology as he accepted the call. "This is Captain Needa."
"Skywalker here. What is your position?"
"We are still gathering information about the enemy's condition, but we should have results any time now. Meanwhile we are engaging her in a pyramid – sphere formation."
"She took the bait?"
"Yes."
"Tell me, Captain, what would be the most efficient response to such a maneuver as you are executing?"
"Launching fighters and provoking a stand-off. It doesn't look as if she will follow that reasoning, though."
"Stay sharp. Your estimate?"
"Grand Admiral Thrawn is definitely not in command of the Executor, and I haven't seen any activity that would forgo the conclusion that they will launch TIEs. In fact–" here he squinted at the report the commander of First Flight was filing just now, "–in fact it looks as if they faced a pretty shrewd opponent in their last combat situation. At least five hangars have been jammed by external concussions."
"It didn't help their opponent much, though. I have a report here that acknowledges Warlord Zsinj's fleet a total loss at Ord Mantell."
"A reliable report?"
"Made by my daughter."
"I take that as a yes, sir." It occurred to Needa only then that he had been conferring with the Dark Lord as if he would with another commander, an equal. It was a somewhat unsettling discovery and he felt embarrassment creep up on him slowly.
"You are doing very well, Captain," Skywalker said suddenly, as if anticipating the other's thoughts.
"Thank you. Here she comes. Mark!"
Behind him Commander Shikay bellowed an order at the flight commanders and the TIEs began their run, zigzagging over the attacking ship's hull and weaving around it in complex patterns that the giant ship's gunners had a hard time following. Lorth Needa allowed himself a tight smile as the capital ships of his fleet moved into a loose sphere, taking the Executor in their midst. They obediently held their fire, but that would change this very moment.
"Gentlemen," the Captain said with undeniable delight at a trap well-spun, "engage at will."
The Grand Admiral had watched impassively while the giant warship cruised into the trap laid out by the opposing fleet as blindly as a bantha in heat charging into quick-sand. He had to hand it to the fleet commander, the man was certainly no fool. A flight of six TIEs sped past, probably on a scouting run. The Executor's guns blazed after them wildly. All of her guns. Twisting around in his seat, the Chiss glowered at Irek angrily. Was the boy totally insane? Irek, his face fixed in utmost concentration, Irek was fairly ignorant of Thrawn's reaction and that was just as well. Perhaps. Then a direct hit sent a boom through the entire structure, startling the bridge crew. Turning his head back to watch the enemy fighters dodging the Super Star Destroyer's guns in a beautifully complex pattern, Thrawn almost smiled.
"They got through the shields!" Anjuri called out.
"How?" Erinin demanded coldly as he stepped up to the other for reasons Thrawn could not fathom. The bodyguard was an excellent fighter, but no tactician.
"I don't know! There was an explosion in sector sixteen–"
Ah, that would have been one of the unmanned gun emplacements. The Grand Admiral felt admiration for their opponent rise gradually in his mind and some of his hope returned with it. A battle against as worthy an opponent as this fleet commander was proving to be would cost Irek immensely. The boy could not possibly keep up his concentration that long. And once he was weakened ....
Thinking back on his bodyguard's valiant but ultimately ineffective attempt at seizing control, Thrawn realized that if even a Sith could not manage to overwhelm this group, he did not have much chance either. Not on his own. As he had noted already, Erinin was one of the best he had ever seen on a battle-field.
More hits impacted against the Executor's hull and the ship's return fire became even more erratic.
"Thrawn," a strained voice called out. He turned his head back to look at Irek.
"Yes, my lord?"
"What would you advise me to do?"
"Advise you, my lord? I would never allow myself to give advice to the likes of you."
"I am serious," the boy said between gritted teeth, sweat beading his brow.
"Really."
"Don't play games, Grand Admiral," Erinin snapped. "What is going on?"
"Their commander has set a trap and you fell neatly for it. In short, we are losing this battle."
"So what? Do we retreat?" Erinin sought confirmation with Irek, who in turn stared at Thrawn, eyes unblinking. Finally the boy gave a sharp nod.
"We retreat. Navigator, get us out of here."
The Executor accelerated, taking the only way out of the enemy formation Toss Halan could see, which was forward. It was a relief that the ship would probably survive this in moderate shape. He needed her intact, and he would do anything to bring her back to Nirauan. If - Driving hard toward open space, the Super Star Destroyer was still harried by enemy fighters and one glance at Irek saw the boy's eyes closed as he tried to relax somewhat. The Grand Admiral's face blanched when he realized that his ship and troops were indeed at the mercy of madmen.
"Watch the aft shields, you idiot!" he roared, startling not only the navigator. Rising from his seat, Thrawn gritted his teeth in disgust. "All right. I am taking over from here on."
"We will try to cripple them by taking out the main drive," Captain Needa explained to the Dark Lord who was surveying the battle from lightyears away.
"Excellent. If you can board her, I am certain that the regular troops will not give you much trouble."
"That was what I thought, too."
"I know." Now there was a hint of amusement in Skywalker's tone. "Still, I would not dismiss the possibility that Grand Admiral Thrawn is still alive. He is perhaps simply held captive."
"You are saying that, if we board, they might use him as hostage?"
"Yes."
"I see." Lips twitching thoughtfully, the Captain gazed out at the fleeing ship. "Perhaps boarding might not be such a good idea after all."
"It is, if you are willing to take the risk."
Suddenly an alarm blared over the bridge and the forward screen brought up a visual list of the TIE squadrons. Five ships had turned red, marking them losses. "What happened?" Needa snapped, frowning.
"They are launching proton torpedoes," Teer Shikay informed him.
"I had really wondered what had kept them from using those so far."
There was a sharp intake of breath to be heard from the open comm channel. "Because it is a far simpler process to activate guns than launch torpedoes. Our foe has been taking the easy way out so far. I wonder what made him change his mind?"
"You mean – "
"If Irek Ismaren is controlling the gun emplacements, that would explain the weak and erratic response. You built your tactics on that assumption, Captain, knowing full well what sort of concentration it costs to keep track of a flight of TIEs, let alone five. And additionally coordinating the gunners effectively through such a maneuver as you had your commanders execute is very hard, even for a Force-user."
"Why is he responding with torpedoes now, then?" Needa asked when one came particularly close to ripping into the Eisenhart's hull.
"Too many answers to that question. Just try to keep your troops together."
"They are accelerating," Commander Shikay announced suddenly.
"Let them go," the Captain sighed. "Lord Skywalker?"
"Yes?"
"How do you propose to take the Executor out?"
"Wearing her down would be our safest bet, but we might not have the time. I want you to pursue at a safe distance. Do not engage her again, clear? Just keep an eye out on her activities."
"Yes, sir, as ordered. And, if I may ask, does your participation in this battle mean that you have been reinitiated as Fleet Commander?"
There was a pause on the other end. "These are dire times, Captain. Anything might be possible."
"Ah," Needa mused aloud as the connection broke, "I thought so."
TBC