Chapter 4
Pellaeon was studying the tactical readouts and approximations of the Bothawui system when Thrawn entered. Pellaeon had always loved the simulations and war games that preceded battles, relished all the fight without actual destruction. Unlike most soldiers, he did not perceive a need to throw away lives for simple tactical ploys.
According to their last scout and spy reports, Admiral Ackbar had been put in command of the Bothawui defense; or rather, had assumed command. The New Republic was reduced to mostly a few high-level military officers and several desk-bound bureaucrats who didn't know the first thing about war. Generally, what was left of the New Republic was a martial government.
The Bothawui system was heavily defended, being an important economic as well as military concern for the Republic. A massive array of planetary shield generators protected the world in one of the most advanced systems of its time, and ground-to-orbit cannons were not uncommon on the rich planet.
Ackbar had arrayed the twelve Star Cruisers of his main fleet in a shield pattern facing towards the only hyperspace entrance that Thrawn could use to get close to the planet without being detected. That was expected, and Pellaeon knew Thrawn had something up his sleeve to take care of that. The rest of the Rebel fleet was mainly composed of Nebulon-B class frigates and a few Victory class Star Destroyers arrayed as close to the planetary shield as they could get. The only thing that puzzled Pellaeon was the quantity of ships present. There were more combat ships available to defend the planet, he was sure of it. The situation looked and smelt like a trap.
"Captain?" Thrawn said smoothly, striding up to stand tall at his protégé's side, glancing at the displays only briefly. "Any new developments at our target?" He seemed curiously aloof, the kind of calm which usually signaled a tough decision that also usually paid for its risk threefold. The last time Pellaeon had seen Thrawn do it, they'd destroyed two Rebel sector fleets at Bilbringi and gone on to win the war.
He shook himself out of his recollections, and slowly shook his head in the negative. "None, sir," he said speculatively. "Almost as if they know we're coming but aren't willing to budge or change their battle plan."
"Of course they know we're coming," Thrawn said chidingly, "The difference is, they don't know where or when." A grin seemed to hover about his features, transforming them into the picture of a benevolent demon about to pounce.
"Sir?" Pellaeon asked, confused. If they weren't coming in from the one alley available to them, then how.?
"I've looked at our various reports, not all of them our spies. Some mercenaries have seen the light in reporting to us directly, and sometimes offer more reliable information," Thrawn said quietly. "There are no Rebel forces within the distance or at the right locations to make a difference in the fight. They are all seemingly misplaced for assistance, far away from the battle."
"That's ludicrous, sir," Pellaeon protested. "Ackbar's smarter than that."
Thrawn smiled again. "Indeed he is," he said. "That's why I think we can kill two birds with one stone on this attack."
"Sir?"
Thrawn began a slow circumnavigation of the display, gazing up at the tiny holo-images of the ships orbiting around the gigantic planet, shield shimmering with deadly power.
"Now, we can assume, obviously, that there is a trap somewhere in here," Thrawn said patiently, a tone Pellaeon heard far too often. He wondered vaguely if he'd ever grasp the full measure of his superior's mind. He chuckled internally. Not in his lifetime, he wouldn't. "The question is, of course, where do the trapping elements come from?"
Then Pellaeon got it, and he twisted an eyebrow in incredulity. "Surely you don't mean you think the resistance is going to attack?"
Thrawn also raised an eyebrow in query. "Why not? They have nothing to lose; they might even consider me overconfident enough to look over such a venture as impossible."
Pellaeon thought hard, but couldn't get his head around the idea. "Surely they have enough experience with your tactical coups to know that you'd automatically assume that you would be prepared for such a venture."
Thrawn nodded slightly. "But I do expect that," he said knowingly, and with a serene self-confidence that made Pellaeon shiver and set himself on the defensive. That tone had always drawn a wall of resistance from him, and even Thrawn's brilliance couldn't expunge that from him.
"Then what-?" Pellaeon started to ask, but Thrawn had already moved on to the answer to that question.
"You recall the various reports of unknown vessels flickering around the borders of our spy networks and military outposts, never remaining long enough to be adequately analyzed?" Thrawn asked, as if directing Pellaeon slowly through every step of the calculations that he'd probably managed in about four seconds.
"Of course," Pellaeon answered, growing more doubtful by the minute. "You think the resistance.?"
"Oh, no," Thrawn said. "I believe that the resistance is expecting me to assume that all the activities are coordinated, and plan accordingly. If I assume this new type of vessel, and probably unknown species is connected to the resistance, and I am over-cautious in planning an attack, then they have a window of opportunity in which to lay other plans. If, on the other hand, I attack Bothawui with overmuch force, expecting to lay waste to both forces, Rebel and resistance, I leave vulnerable other potential targets."
"Then your orders are.?" Pellaeon wanted to know. All this seemingly flimsy reasoning was leaving him floundering.
Thrawn smiled slightly, an even more terrifying expression than his glare of unsuppressed rage. "We do the unexpected, of course," he said. "I have already sent orders by secure hypercomm to the Corellian garrison to ready for an attack upon the nearby Sullust system, still held by the Republic, which will draw attention away from Bothawui as well as weaken what remains of the Republic's economic base. If they rush to defend, we strike Bothawui, hard. If not, we wait for a twitch from the resistance, and pinpoint their locations." His red eyes seared into Pellaeon, sending a chill up his spine. "We win either way."
Wedge quite agreed with Karrde that having reinforcements of a size sufficient to assist in a full-fledged fleet battle was unusual for an emissary, especially when the emissary is entering into an alliance with a nearly beaten comrade in arms. Not that he didn't wish for the assistance to be given, no; he just wished that he could be able to trust the slippery new alien compatriots.
The reinforcements were impressive, however.
Karrde was at first convinced that the arriving battleships were an Imperial invasion force set on destroying the resistance. The entire base crew had not been expecting the six battleships of a size with an Imperial Star Destroyer, plus fifteen smaller cruisers equivalent to a Carrack cruiser in size and firepower. The first messages from the outer system spy outposts had been one of panic. By the time Kenji had corrected Karrde on his error, half the base had been roused and implementing the evacuation plan, leaving the In'ca Din'ca none too abashed at the lack of warning he'd given.
The larger warships were massive, teardrop shaped black hulls studded with aerodynamic (or aqua-dynamic) protrusions. One massive airfoil thrust out from the underside of the ships, capped with a long skid of some kind. Two smaller foils extended like clipped wings on the forward portion of the massive spacecraft, and the twin ion engines tucked their way under the dagger-pointed rear of the battleships.
The smaller ones were similar to the Stiletto in general style of design, sporting four large weapons and engine pods surrounding a central spine and bulging head. Fins with banks of maneuvering jets swept out behind the cruisers, and their agility was demonstrated in the complex defense formation they performed around their motherships in the centre.
"Emperor's black bones," Wedge breathed in an awed tone as he surveyed the simple 'diplomatic reinforcements' that Kenji had conjured up from deep space. It was as impressive an armada as any two of the resistance's meager task forces. The scattered outlaws were badly deficient in the battleship department, and the largest ship they could boast of possessing was a battered Victory class Star Destroyer taken from the Rim garrisons.
"Indeed," Karrde said quietly. He lowered his voice still further, pitching it for Wedge's ears alone. "I believe that our new 'friends' bear even more watching than I had suspected."
"You're right about that," Wedge fumbled, still startled by the sheer size of the In'ca Din'ca fleet. "Why take an entire system task force on a simple diplomatic envoy mission? Unless of course you're planning to use it anyway."
Karrde glanced sideways. "You suspect them of plotting an overthrow of the resistance? As an entrance present to Thrawn, perhaps?"
Wedge shook his head. "I'm just afraid that we're dancing to someone's tune, and I don't like it."
Karrde sighed. "Neither do I." Then he straightened. "Well, I believe it's time to contact our new arrivals. We can't hope to hide from them now, even if they are planning something dangerous." He waved to a young man sitting at the hypercomm station. "Open a tight-beam channel to the alien ships-" he looked back at Kenji. "-on a frequency our friend here will provide you."
The In'ca Din'ca, oblivious to Karrde's sarcastic tone, stepped forward and reeled off a set of frequency adjustments and power requirements. The technology his race used was obviously similar to the resistance's, but operated at a different power spectrum, and used odd configurations and ways of getting things done.
When the adjustments were completed, the man flicked several switches, and gave Karrde the thumbs-up sign. Karrde stepped forward, barely halting a deep breath of nervousness as he did so.
"In'ca Din'ca battle fleet, this is Captain Karrde of Black Hole Base," he called somewhat hesitantly. For all he knew, only Kenji spoke their language fluently. What if they couldn't communicate?
Of course, that was a vain fear. Before Karrde could get out a suitable welcoming message, an earsplitting burst of static erupted from the comm, and then a burbling voice, smooth and deep in the bass range, emitted from the speakers.
"Captain Karrde, this is First Huntsman Ri'josan of the hunt-ship Lo'quaa," it said authoritatively, and Wedge winced at the superior tone. Command hierarchy was unorganized in the resistance, and anyone taking that tone with anyone unless it was the General or Karrde soon got slapped down. "I command the Fifth Seeking of the In'ca Din'ca Commune, and I am most pleased to make your acquaintance." That last was said with enough hesitation that Wedge figured the alien was attempting to use a human phrase he did not understand.
Karrde got the subtlety too, but chose to ignore the slip in manner. "What's a. Seeking? First Huntsman? I'm sorry, but we don't understand these titles," He said apologetically. Wedge guessed that he understood perfectly well, but this was a test of how well the alien commander would share and cooperate with the resistance.
"Forgive me," First Huntsman Ri'josan said. "My title is similar to a starship captain of your organization, and a Seeking is nearly identical in meaning to the word 'armada' in your language."
"Thank you," Karrde said obsequiously, "My understanding is complete, now. Do you wish to come aboard our station?"
The comm man interrupted him. "I'm sorry sir, but that's not possible now."
Karrde turned angrily on the young outlaw. "What's that supposed to mean?"
First Huntsman Ri'josan beat the comm officer to it. "It's an Imperial patrol force, a rather significant one," he said.
"And it appears to be coming this way."
Pellaeon was studying the tactical readouts and approximations of the Bothawui system when Thrawn entered. Pellaeon had always loved the simulations and war games that preceded battles, relished all the fight without actual destruction. Unlike most soldiers, he did not perceive a need to throw away lives for simple tactical ploys.
According to their last scout and spy reports, Admiral Ackbar had been put in command of the Bothawui defense; or rather, had assumed command. The New Republic was reduced to mostly a few high-level military officers and several desk-bound bureaucrats who didn't know the first thing about war. Generally, what was left of the New Republic was a martial government.
The Bothawui system was heavily defended, being an important economic as well as military concern for the Republic. A massive array of planetary shield generators protected the world in one of the most advanced systems of its time, and ground-to-orbit cannons were not uncommon on the rich planet.
Ackbar had arrayed the twelve Star Cruisers of his main fleet in a shield pattern facing towards the only hyperspace entrance that Thrawn could use to get close to the planet without being detected. That was expected, and Pellaeon knew Thrawn had something up his sleeve to take care of that. The rest of the Rebel fleet was mainly composed of Nebulon-B class frigates and a few Victory class Star Destroyers arrayed as close to the planetary shield as they could get. The only thing that puzzled Pellaeon was the quantity of ships present. There were more combat ships available to defend the planet, he was sure of it. The situation looked and smelt like a trap.
"Captain?" Thrawn said smoothly, striding up to stand tall at his protégé's side, glancing at the displays only briefly. "Any new developments at our target?" He seemed curiously aloof, the kind of calm which usually signaled a tough decision that also usually paid for its risk threefold. The last time Pellaeon had seen Thrawn do it, they'd destroyed two Rebel sector fleets at Bilbringi and gone on to win the war.
He shook himself out of his recollections, and slowly shook his head in the negative. "None, sir," he said speculatively. "Almost as if they know we're coming but aren't willing to budge or change their battle plan."
"Of course they know we're coming," Thrawn said chidingly, "The difference is, they don't know where or when." A grin seemed to hover about his features, transforming them into the picture of a benevolent demon about to pounce.
"Sir?" Pellaeon asked, confused. If they weren't coming in from the one alley available to them, then how.?
"I've looked at our various reports, not all of them our spies. Some mercenaries have seen the light in reporting to us directly, and sometimes offer more reliable information," Thrawn said quietly. "There are no Rebel forces within the distance or at the right locations to make a difference in the fight. They are all seemingly misplaced for assistance, far away from the battle."
"That's ludicrous, sir," Pellaeon protested. "Ackbar's smarter than that."
Thrawn smiled again. "Indeed he is," he said. "That's why I think we can kill two birds with one stone on this attack."
"Sir?"
Thrawn began a slow circumnavigation of the display, gazing up at the tiny holo-images of the ships orbiting around the gigantic planet, shield shimmering with deadly power.
"Now, we can assume, obviously, that there is a trap somewhere in here," Thrawn said patiently, a tone Pellaeon heard far too often. He wondered vaguely if he'd ever grasp the full measure of his superior's mind. He chuckled internally. Not in his lifetime, he wouldn't. "The question is, of course, where do the trapping elements come from?"
Then Pellaeon got it, and he twisted an eyebrow in incredulity. "Surely you don't mean you think the resistance is going to attack?"
Thrawn also raised an eyebrow in query. "Why not? They have nothing to lose; they might even consider me overconfident enough to look over such a venture as impossible."
Pellaeon thought hard, but couldn't get his head around the idea. "Surely they have enough experience with your tactical coups to know that you'd automatically assume that you would be prepared for such a venture."
Thrawn nodded slightly. "But I do expect that," he said knowingly, and with a serene self-confidence that made Pellaeon shiver and set himself on the defensive. That tone had always drawn a wall of resistance from him, and even Thrawn's brilliance couldn't expunge that from him.
"Then what-?" Pellaeon started to ask, but Thrawn had already moved on to the answer to that question.
"You recall the various reports of unknown vessels flickering around the borders of our spy networks and military outposts, never remaining long enough to be adequately analyzed?" Thrawn asked, as if directing Pellaeon slowly through every step of the calculations that he'd probably managed in about four seconds.
"Of course," Pellaeon answered, growing more doubtful by the minute. "You think the resistance.?"
"Oh, no," Thrawn said. "I believe that the resistance is expecting me to assume that all the activities are coordinated, and plan accordingly. If I assume this new type of vessel, and probably unknown species is connected to the resistance, and I am over-cautious in planning an attack, then they have a window of opportunity in which to lay other plans. If, on the other hand, I attack Bothawui with overmuch force, expecting to lay waste to both forces, Rebel and resistance, I leave vulnerable other potential targets."
"Then your orders are.?" Pellaeon wanted to know. All this seemingly flimsy reasoning was leaving him floundering.
Thrawn smiled slightly, an even more terrifying expression than his glare of unsuppressed rage. "We do the unexpected, of course," he said. "I have already sent orders by secure hypercomm to the Corellian garrison to ready for an attack upon the nearby Sullust system, still held by the Republic, which will draw attention away from Bothawui as well as weaken what remains of the Republic's economic base. If they rush to defend, we strike Bothawui, hard. If not, we wait for a twitch from the resistance, and pinpoint their locations." His red eyes seared into Pellaeon, sending a chill up his spine. "We win either way."
Wedge quite agreed with Karrde that having reinforcements of a size sufficient to assist in a full-fledged fleet battle was unusual for an emissary, especially when the emissary is entering into an alliance with a nearly beaten comrade in arms. Not that he didn't wish for the assistance to be given, no; he just wished that he could be able to trust the slippery new alien compatriots.
The reinforcements were impressive, however.
Karrde was at first convinced that the arriving battleships were an Imperial invasion force set on destroying the resistance. The entire base crew had not been expecting the six battleships of a size with an Imperial Star Destroyer, plus fifteen smaller cruisers equivalent to a Carrack cruiser in size and firepower. The first messages from the outer system spy outposts had been one of panic. By the time Kenji had corrected Karrde on his error, half the base had been roused and implementing the evacuation plan, leaving the In'ca Din'ca none too abashed at the lack of warning he'd given.
The larger warships were massive, teardrop shaped black hulls studded with aerodynamic (or aqua-dynamic) protrusions. One massive airfoil thrust out from the underside of the ships, capped with a long skid of some kind. Two smaller foils extended like clipped wings on the forward portion of the massive spacecraft, and the twin ion engines tucked their way under the dagger-pointed rear of the battleships.
The smaller ones were similar to the Stiletto in general style of design, sporting four large weapons and engine pods surrounding a central spine and bulging head. Fins with banks of maneuvering jets swept out behind the cruisers, and their agility was demonstrated in the complex defense formation they performed around their motherships in the centre.
"Emperor's black bones," Wedge breathed in an awed tone as he surveyed the simple 'diplomatic reinforcements' that Kenji had conjured up from deep space. It was as impressive an armada as any two of the resistance's meager task forces. The scattered outlaws were badly deficient in the battleship department, and the largest ship they could boast of possessing was a battered Victory class Star Destroyer taken from the Rim garrisons.
"Indeed," Karrde said quietly. He lowered his voice still further, pitching it for Wedge's ears alone. "I believe that our new 'friends' bear even more watching than I had suspected."
"You're right about that," Wedge fumbled, still startled by the sheer size of the In'ca Din'ca fleet. "Why take an entire system task force on a simple diplomatic envoy mission? Unless of course you're planning to use it anyway."
Karrde glanced sideways. "You suspect them of plotting an overthrow of the resistance? As an entrance present to Thrawn, perhaps?"
Wedge shook his head. "I'm just afraid that we're dancing to someone's tune, and I don't like it."
Karrde sighed. "Neither do I." Then he straightened. "Well, I believe it's time to contact our new arrivals. We can't hope to hide from them now, even if they are planning something dangerous." He waved to a young man sitting at the hypercomm station. "Open a tight-beam channel to the alien ships-" he looked back at Kenji. "-on a frequency our friend here will provide you."
The In'ca Din'ca, oblivious to Karrde's sarcastic tone, stepped forward and reeled off a set of frequency adjustments and power requirements. The technology his race used was obviously similar to the resistance's, but operated at a different power spectrum, and used odd configurations and ways of getting things done.
When the adjustments were completed, the man flicked several switches, and gave Karrde the thumbs-up sign. Karrde stepped forward, barely halting a deep breath of nervousness as he did so.
"In'ca Din'ca battle fleet, this is Captain Karrde of Black Hole Base," he called somewhat hesitantly. For all he knew, only Kenji spoke their language fluently. What if they couldn't communicate?
Of course, that was a vain fear. Before Karrde could get out a suitable welcoming message, an earsplitting burst of static erupted from the comm, and then a burbling voice, smooth and deep in the bass range, emitted from the speakers.
"Captain Karrde, this is First Huntsman Ri'josan of the hunt-ship Lo'quaa," it said authoritatively, and Wedge winced at the superior tone. Command hierarchy was unorganized in the resistance, and anyone taking that tone with anyone unless it was the General or Karrde soon got slapped down. "I command the Fifth Seeking of the In'ca Din'ca Commune, and I am most pleased to make your acquaintance." That last was said with enough hesitation that Wedge figured the alien was attempting to use a human phrase he did not understand.
Karrde got the subtlety too, but chose to ignore the slip in manner. "What's a. Seeking? First Huntsman? I'm sorry, but we don't understand these titles," He said apologetically. Wedge guessed that he understood perfectly well, but this was a test of how well the alien commander would share and cooperate with the resistance.
"Forgive me," First Huntsman Ri'josan said. "My title is similar to a starship captain of your organization, and a Seeking is nearly identical in meaning to the word 'armada' in your language."
"Thank you," Karrde said obsequiously, "My understanding is complete, now. Do you wish to come aboard our station?"
The comm man interrupted him. "I'm sorry sir, but that's not possible now."
Karrde turned angrily on the young outlaw. "What's that supposed to mean?"
First Huntsman Ri'josan beat the comm officer to it. "It's an Imperial patrol force, a rather significant one," he said.
"And it appears to be coming this way."