Ion engines roared like thunder as the Bloodshark vaulted out of the hangar, flanked by the Moldy Crow and Rookie One's Y-wing. Strapped into his pilot seat, Kyle Katarn's face was hard as durasteel as he guided the Crow in a steep, flame-wreathed ascent, slicing through the bronzed atmosphere of the Pinnacle Moon.
It was a smoother escape than anticipated, at first. They hadn't gotten halfway to the hangar when Kyle remembered the powerful deflector shield surrounding Pinnacle Base, which they had needed Jodo Kast's help to penetrate. Such a shield would stand up to orbital bombardment, but it would also keep them trapped moonside, where they'd be sitting ducks. However, Natalie Darr informed him that the barrier had collapsed long ago. It seemed that the power core Jodo Kast had blown up to cover his escape was supplying energy to the shield generator.
"Something tells me that's not a coincidence," Jan had commented darkly.
The fiery cocoon wrapping the Moldy Crow's viewport thinned as Da Soocha V's atmosphere began to fall away. So far so good, but they still had to clear the gravity well before making the jump to hyperspace. That would only take a few minutes, but when you had Imperials closing in, those would be the longest few minutes of your life.
"Bryar Force, this is Rookie One," said the Y-wing's pilot. "For whatever it's worth, I'm sending out a distress signal."
"Copy that—no good reason not to," answered Jan.
Despite himself, Kyle gave a brief, fractional smile. That was just like the guy—still following Alliance protocol even though they'd all gone rogue. True enough, practically anyone could pick up the distress call, but practically no one would even think about coming help against a Star Destroyer attack. The one exception, of course, was Rebel ships, but there was no reason for any to be in this sector. Pinnacle Base was supposed to be the Alliance's foothold here, after all. Broadcasting a distress signal was essentially asking for a miracle, and they all knew it
After the day he'd just had, Kyle Katarn knew there was something to be said for miracles, but even so...
Well, at risk of being irreverent, he wasn't sure what good the Force could do against a Star Destroyer.
He cast a grim look at the red icon on the sensor readout, whose identity beacon read ISD Dark Justice. Natalie hadn't been joking. That monster wasn't being shy; it was storming the system at full sublight speed, like the Pinnacle Moon owed it money. Already its hull was visible, a glinting little blade of white, growing out of the void.
To think they had survived the minions of the Transcendent and the wrath of an interdimensional entity, only to be wiped out by a random Imperial attack...
But of course, they'd briefly seen that identity beacon just days ago. There was nothing random about this attack.
The comm system chimed, and Jan said, "That Impstar's hailing us."
Kyle steeled himself. "Answer it. All three ships."
Seconds later, holoprojectors aboard the Bloodshark, the Moldy Crow, and the Y-wing all powered on. No sooner had the glowing blue image of an Imperial Navy captain taken shape than there was a blaster shot, and the man fell out of sight. Two stormtroopers then moved through the transmission field, grunting as they hauled the corpse away.
Finally a tall, powerful, black-uniformed man with three eyes positioned himself before the holocam, regal and menacing, his hands clasped behind his back.
"Ah, Kyle Katarn—and his allies," he said, beaming with a sinister smile. "I bid you all dark greetings. What you just witnessed was a small demonstration of the consequences for those who defy me."
"Trioculus," seethed Jan.
"You killed your own captain," observed a disgusted Kentamine Farwanderer.
The Slavelord looked eminently pleased with himself. "Naturally. The orders I had issued were clear, but the fool came out of light speed too close to the system. You see, I was hoping to surprise you."
Kyle snorted. "With reinforcements? That's very generous of you, but we don't need 'em. The party's already over."
"I thought that might be the case," said Trioculus, nodding. "So your mission is a success? The Transcendent has been destroyed?"
"They're all dead," Kyle said carefully.
"And the young Zak Arranda—you rescued him as well, along with any other innocents?"
Aboard the Bloodshark, Hoole glanced at his companions before stepping forward, gently guiding his niece and nephew along with him. "I am here as well, Trioculus. I suppose I should thank you for sending Katarn and the others to the moon. I might not have escaped without them."
"Mammon Hoole," the mutant Imperial intoned. Zak and Tash shuddered as his third eye passed over them, but their uncle was unmoved. "I'm gratified to see that you still live."
"I'm sure," Hoole said coolly. "On that note, I'm here to inform you that our agreement is concluded."
"Indeed? Perhaps you should consider—"
"All right, that's enough," snapped Kyle Katarn. "What are you doing here, Trioculus? What's your game? And what was your patsy Jodo Kast up to?"
Trioculus contained his fury at having been interrupted. "Surely, Katarn, you must have figured it out by now. Even before learning the true nature of this...organization, I swore to destroy them by any means necessary, as enemies of the Empire. Did you really think," the Supreme Slavelord said with a sneer, "that I would completely entrust such a vital mission to the likes of you—an unsavory band of notorious traitors and terrorists?
"From Jodo Kast's reconnaissance, I was already aware of the defenses surrounding Pinnacle Base—chief among them one of those powerful deflector shields which you pesky rebels are so fond of hiding under. My system fleet could have broken through it, but in the meantime they would be leaving Kessel vulnerable to attack. Obviously, as Supreme Slavelord, that wouldn't do."
"So that's why Kast ditched us," Kyle inferred, squeezing the steering yoke. "All you really needed was to bring down that shield."
"Of course! Once the base was vulnerable, I could take my personal Star Destroyer and obliterate it from a comfortable distance." Trioculus smiled smugly. "In so doing, I would wipe these reprobates from the face of the galaxy, without risking the loss of a single Imperial trooper or TIE pilot—hopefully while tying up the loose end of your involvement."
Furiously, Tash jerked free of her uncle to approach the Bloodshark's holocam. "You betrayed us!" she cried. "We made an agreement, and you gave us your word that you'd let us go—but you planned to kill us all, right from the start! How could you?!"
He's got three eyes, he dresses in black, and he calls himself 'Supreme Slavelord', Zak wanted to point out. It's not hyperspace science.
Trioculus retorted with an evil chuckle. "Foolish girl! Did you forget who you are traveling with? How could I allow a band of such infamous traitors and saboteurs to slip from my grasp, after they are no longer of any use to me? I agreed only to let you depart Kessel alive, not to guarantee your safety afterward. I may spare one enemy for a time, to use as a pawn against another, but it is my duty to exact dark justice upon the enemies of the Empire, wherever I find them." His grin widened, and his powerful jaw jutted forward proudly. "And it is my pleasure to serve the Emperor, above all others."
Having said this, he pivoted toward someone off-camera and made a sharp signal.
Aboard the Y-wing, R2-Q8 twittered in alarm, transmitting new tactical updates to its pilot's HUD as well as the other two ships. It was reading a massive energy discharge from the Star Destroyer's reactor. Starfighter, assault transport, and Moldy Crow slid into an evasive vector just in time for a furious turbolaser barrage to flash past them. However, the lack of follow-up indicated that they were not the actual target.
The shots had come from the heavy octuple-barreled cannons flanking the warship's command tower. Exponentially more potent than any other weapon system aboard the Star Destroyer, they could also fire at much greater range than its lighter guns, making them ideal for planetary bombardment operations. When charged to their maximum capacity from the Destroyer's hypermatter annihilation reactor, these weapons possessed destructive power that was truly apocalyptic—as the Bryar Force would witness mere seconds later.
The barrage fell upon Da Soocha V like a column of blazing emerald javelins. In the blink of an eye, the plateau, the former Rebel base, the ancient Gree outpost, and the entire surrounding region simply ceased to exist. All were atomized down to the mantle in a conflagration that shook the Pinnacle Moon itself. A great orb of fire spread outward, glowing like a miniature star, a testament to the impact of energies beyond the capacity of entire civilizations.
The three starships carrying the last of the Bryar Force, as well as the few innocents it had been able to save, were safely well away from the blast. And, naturally, sound waves cannot travel through space... Even so, a few of those souls—among them Kyle Katarn, Wade Vox, Rookie One, and Zak and Tash Arranda—fancied they could hear the cry of some tremendous, eldritch creature, roaring out its final agony and rage before submitting to the judgment of the Force in Oblivion.
As soon as the echo had faded, Kyle recalled the words of the visitant Jedi Master, Valenthyne Farfalla. He told me. He knew this would happen. Trioculus finished that thing off—and he doesn't even know it.
Kyle wasn't sure if there was some kind of Jedi doctrine or proverb which summed this up, but to him one thing was now clear: the Force worked in mysterious ways.
A dark voice from the comm intruded upon his thoughts. "Witness the firepower of a fully armed and operational Star Destroyer..." There was a pause, followed by a wistful sigh. "By the dark side, is it beautiful."
Trioculus cleared his throat, then returned to his usual commanding tone. "Now that that has been attended to...it seems that you still need time to escape from the moon's gravity field. Too much time."
It was no lie. Kyle, Rookie One, Natalie Darr, and their assorted copilots checked their instruments to find the Dark Justice was still coming in at full speed. While the heavy turbolasers were still in cool-down mode, it would be in range to fire on them with the rest of its arsenal well before they could engage hyperdrive. Worse, the ISD had launched its entire complement of TIE Fighters and Interceptors, which spread out as they raced ahead of their mother ship.
It seemed hopeless; if the Bryar Force altered course, it would only add to the time they needed to exit Da Soocha V's gravity well. No matter what they did, the net of TIEs would close on them.
"But do not despair yet, my dear rebels," Trioculus continued. "I am a man of darkness, like father before me, but I do have a heart—especially for the young. I urge you, Katarn, for the sake of the young Zak and Tash Arranda: power down your engines, all of you, and prepare to be boarded. I promise you that no harm will come to the children as long as you surrender."
Kyle Katarn fumed at the Imperial Overseer. Even through a grainy holotransmission, the man's smugness and conceit were palpable.
It was Jan who spoke next. "That's the kind of mercy I'd expect from a black-hearted Imperial: that you're willing to consider not destroying a starship with civilians—with children aboard. Chaos take you!"
"I warned you not to take the young Tash Arranda into danger, did I not?" retorted the Slavelord, raising a black-gloved fist. "But you swore an oath, Kyle Katarn! You solemnly assumed responsibility for her safety. Now behold the consequences of your actions!"
Kyle couldn't even be bothered to defend himself. If the Imperial's plan had gone the way he'd hoped, all of them would be dead right now, including both of the children for whom he was feigning concern—not to mention their uncle and Moff Rebus, who were civilians. They'd have been vaporized along with Pinnacle Base.
"Mammon Hoole? You always struck me as shrewd and practical, being a man of science. Will you, at least, listen to reason?"
Hoole looked from Zak to Tash, then back to the holocamera. "I am not in command of this vessel, Trioculus. But in any case—no." His eyes narrowed to black slits. "I know what manner of creature you are, to say nothing of those you serve. As for these two, if I could trade my own life to keep them out of your hands, out of Imperial hands forever, I would do so. But if that will not satisfy your dark intentions...you'll have no choice but to destroy us all."
Trioculus's face darkened with cold rage, his third eye bulging as if to smite the Shi'ido for defying him. "Then you have made your choice, rebels. Prepare to be destroyed!" He gestured, and the transmission ended.
In the cockpit of the Moldy Crow, Kyle Katarn exhaled. A powerful urge to turn around and look Jan in the eye stole over him. After all, it seemed like it would be for the last time. Ahead, the Star Destroyer was clearly visible as a bright wedge, its TIE complement a twinkling web spread out to catch them all.
The sense of finality was just as right as it was overwhelming. Kyle Katarn had looked death in the eyes before—in the barrels of E-11 blaster rifles or of TIE Fighter laser cannons. And the Transcendent had been destroyed, along with the so-called goddess which had spawned it. To die here at their journey's climax, having finished the fight...
It was bitter, but it also wasn't the worst thing in the galaxy.
Even so, they weren't dead yet. Kyle's father had told him never to give up when he knew he was right, and he was still in command. No matter how slim the odds, there had to be some way out of this...
Rookie One's steady voice crackled over the comm. "Bryar Force, you copy?"
Kyle and Natalie Darr acknowledged.
"All right." The Y-wing pilot paused; it was easy to imagine him wetting his lips, squinting at the tactical display, running the calculations in his mind. "Listen up. Bloodshark, you can take the most punishment and you're carrying most of our members, including the civvies. That makes you our mission-critical craft. If only one of us makes it to hyperspace, it's got to be you.
"Moldy Crow and I will burn our engines, fly ahead, and hit those TIEs first—see if we can scatter them. Get as many as we can to peel off after us, and hope the Bloodshark's turrets can handle the rest."
Kyle bit his lip as he studied the readout. It was a simple plan, and in theory the most obvious and likely to work. He trusted the other man's judgment. For any Rebel fighter jockey, running cover for evacuation while insanely outnumbered was all in a standard day's work. Still, against a full wing of TIEs, it was a pretty tall piket.
"I read you, Rookie One," said Jan. "It's better than nothing, but that Impstar's still coming in fast. We'll only have time to make one pass on those fighters before it comes within turbolaser range."
"...Then I guess we'll have to make an attack run on it, too. I've still got a couple torps leftover."
"Wait a minute!" cut in Wade Vox, who was manning one of the assault transport's turret stations. "Wait a minute, this is crazy! You're talkin' two fighters—I mean one fighter and a light freighter against a Star Destroyer?!"
"I've beaten odds this bad—almost this bad before. One time at Tatooine, me, Ru, and Harris... Well, things were different then. All we've got to do is get that Impstar shooting at us more than the Bloodshark. Far as I can tell, that's the best chance we've got. Katarn, it's your call. What are your orders?"
Now Kyle did look back at Jan. She didn't say anything. Just a nod. They were one standard minute from shooting range with those TIEs. There was no time to come up with anything else.
"We'll do it your way, Rookie One. Stand by for engine boost."
"This is Bloodshark, angling deflectors," Natalie chimed in.
Slowly the Y-wing and the Moldy Crow pulled ahead of their mission-critical craft, side by side. Across the flowing vacuum, Kyle and Rookie exchanged a salute.
Another voice from the assault transport joined them—Hoole's. "Katarn, Rookie One...you have my deepest gratitude. And those of my niece and nephew."
"Just doin' my job," said the pilot. "Tell Tash thanks for the rock. All right, Katarn, you ready?"
Kyle could well imagine the Arranda kids—and not a few others aboard the Bloodshark—wanting and perhaps trying to get to the intership comm to give their own goodbyes, but they were out of time. This was as good as it was going to get. He laid his finger on the engine controls and said, "Standing by."
"Then may the Force be—"
The buzzing of proximity alarms cut him off so suddenly that Kyle almost jumped. Frantically he checked the scanner.
And blinked.
Blinked again.
"I've got new craft coming in at mark zero-seven-seven, are those... Are those Rebels?"
A female voice he had not heard before joined them on the channel. "Ships in distress, come in. This is Commander Murleen of Bandit Squadron. We're with the Alliance, coming to assist."
"RU! What are you doing here?!"
Kyle glanced back at Jan a second time to find a mirror of his own astonishment. Studying the scanner again, he saw it was no illusion. The screen showed a full A-wing squadron, streaking like a brilliant green arrow to hit the TIEs from above.
"Rookie One, is that you? We picked up your distress signal. By my reading, you're twenty seconds away from a H'nemthe honeymoon with those TIE Fighters. We're sending you an escape vector—get ready to fly like you stole that Y-wing!"
"...Yes, ma'am!" Rookie One answered after a beat, sounding almost like he was stifling laughter.
The Moldy Crow's navicomputer chimed as it received and processed the incoming coordinates. The Star Destroyer still lumbered toward them from directly ahead, while a ghostly blue crescent of Da Soocha loomed off to the side. Kyle couldn't remember the last time space looked this beautiful.
"Okay, Bandits, light 'em up!"
The monochromatic vacuum broke into a storm of glowing lances, red and green. Half the TIE wing had already begun to split off and angle toward the incoming aggressors, but their formation was poorly shaped to deal with a full A-wing squadron sideswiping them at full throttle. Imperial fighters spiraled and veered in every direction, many chased by glinting concussion missiles.
Seconds later, the Moldy Crow, Y-wing, and Bloodshark were cutting through a hailstorm of emerald laser bolts. Wheeling TIE Fighters and Interceptors screamed past close enough to skim their deflectors. Kyle jinked and rolled, weathering the maelstrom. Jan blasted several targets to scrap, but dozens were still coming in, hungry for the kill.
Then Ru Murleen's A-wings swooped down on the Imperial formation, scattering the TIEs like motes from a Sulon dirt clod being thrown against the trunk of a tap tree. The Bryar Force's threaded through the chaos. Following the escape coordinates, they began to curve away from the onrushing Star Destroyer, which was opening fire with its ventral turbolaser batteries. TIE Fighters and Interceptors clawed at the fleeing ships' rear deflectors, but the darting Rebel fighters started picking them off like stink-flies. The Imperials started to shy away, perhaps hoping to give the Dark Justice a chance to fire all its guns without fear of hitting a friendly, but by that time—
"Rookie One, you and your friends are clear!" yelled Commander Murleen. "Get out of here!"
"Roger that! You better be right behind us, Ru!"
"Count on it!"
Just outside the port window, the assault transport and the Y-wing turned to lances of light and disappeared. At Jan's signal Kyle punched the control, launching the Moldy Crow into hyperspace—leaving behind the folly of the Gree, the horrors of the Pinnacle Moon, and Cycsila's legacy of terror forever.
On the bridge of the Dark Justice, Trioculus watched in fury as the last of the Rebel ships jumped to light speed and disappeared. For a long, dark moment, the room was as silent as the vacuum of space itself.
Finally the Supreme Slavelord addressed his Star Destroyer's newly promoted captain, demanding an after-battle report. To his dismay, their pilots had only managed to shoot down two of the A-wings. On the other hand, they themselves had taken minor losses. The surprise Rebel attack had been hasty in the extreme, damaging many of Trioculus's TIEs, but only destroying a few outright.
"This was to be a day of triumph! I could at last have won the Emperor's favor by destroying Katarn, Hoole, and the rest of those fugitives!" Trioculus's thunderous voice made the various officers in the crew pits shake with fear. He turned to the Dark Justice's newly promoted captain, who wilted beneath the glare of the Slavelord's third eye. "You should count yourself lucky. It is only upon my dark whim that you have not shared your predecessor's fate!"
"I understand, my lord," the captain managed to reply, "and upon my life and my Imperial honor, I pledge never to fail you, as he did!"
"Then hear your new orders and execute them perfectly: the TIEs are to sweep that debris field as quickly as possible, then return to our hangar. If any survivors from the battle are found, Imperial or rebel, dispatch shuttles to collect them. When that is done, the Dark Justice shall return to Kessel at once."
"Yes, my lord—at once!" the captain bleated, making a crisp salute.
Trioculus snorted and turned away, gazing sourly out at the debris—and at the Pinnacle Moon, which continued to spew molten debris into orbit.
Moments passed. Gradually his rage evanesced.
His scheme to destroy the Transcendent had succeeded; an odious threat to the Empire and to its children was no more. Still, the escape of the rebels was a galling and humiliating defeat—one that must not reach the ears of Trioculus's many rivals. The Dark Justice's previous captain had already been dealt with, but the incompetence of the TIE pilots and the gunners also merited punishment.
All in due time, Trioculus assured himself, lifting his three eyes from the ruination to take in the vaster galaxy beyond. In all likelihood, Katarn and his allies—Hoole and those meddling kids, and all the rest of them—would be out there somewhere for a long while yet; he would track them down eventually. In the meantime, he had his domain on Kessel to attend to.
And his destiny—a dark and glorious one, he was sure of it—had yet to unfold.
All in due time, he repeated, smiling darkly out at the stars.
CHAPTER COMPLETE
PASSWORD: BENDU