17

With her three Imperial Star Destroyers safely hidden among the ionized islands of the Cauldron Nebula, Admiral Daala retired to her private quarters to review tactics.

She sat stiffly in a slick lounge chair, refusing to relax into the warm contours. Too much comfort made Daala distinctly uncomfortable.

The holographic image of Grand Moff Tarkin stood with her in the dim room, unchanged after all these years. The gaunt, hard man presented his recorded lectures, his communiqués. Daala had watched them dozens of times before.

In the privacy of her chambers, she allowed herself to miss the one person in the Imperial Military Academy who had seen her talent. Tarkin had raised her rank to admiral—as far as she knew, the highest rank held by any female in the Imperial armed forces.

During her years of exile in Maw Installation, Daala had often replayed Tarkin’s messages, but now she studied them intently. Her eyebrows knitted together, and her bright green eyes narrowed as she concentrated on every word he spoke, searching for some indispensable advice for her private war against the Rebellion.

“Liquidating a dozen small threats is easier than rooting out one well-established center of defiance,” his image said, in a speech given on Carida explaining the “Tarkin Doctrine.” “Rule through the fear of force rather than through force itself. If we use our strength wisely, we shall intimidate thousands of worlds with the example of a select few.”

Daala rewound the holotape to listen to his words again, thinking she had been on the verge of capturing a crucial insight. But the door chime interrupted her. She switched off the holoprojector. “Lights up.”

Stocky Commander Kratas stood stiffly at her door, his uniform wrinkle free, his hands clasped behind his back. He was trying to mask a smug grin of satisfaction, but the expression displayed itself in a small facial tick and the slight upturn of his vanishingly thin lips.

“Yes, Commander, what is it?” she said.

“We have intercepted a signal,” Kratas said. “It appears to be from an Imperial probe droid transmitting covert data gathered on an important Rebel planet called Calamari, the site of one of their prime starship-building facilities. We can’t tell how recent the information is.”

Daala raised her eyebrows and let her colorless lips form a smile. With both hands she swept her molten-metal hair behind her shoulders, feeling static electricity crackle through her fingertips, as if generated from the excitement building within her. “Are you certain this transmission is genuine? Where was it directed?”

“It was a broad-spectrum signal, Admiral. My assumption is that these probe droids were deployed in a widely scattered pattern. They would not know the location of any particular Star Destroyer when they transmitted a report.”

“Could it be a hoax sent by the Rebels? A trap?”

“I don’t believe so. It was heavily encoded. We almost couldn’t crack it ourselves until we double-checked against one of the new codes Grand Moff Tarkin delivered on his last visit to Maw Installation.”

“Excellent, Commander,” she said, brushing her palms down the smooth olive-gray of her uniform slacks. “We’ve been looking for a new target to strike, and if this is an important starship-construction facility, that sounds like a good candidate. As good as anything, I suppose. I want you and the captains of the other two ships to meet me in the war room. Prepare the Star Destroyers for immediate departure. Recharge all turbolaser batteries. Outfit all TIE fighters.

“This time we will follow Grand Moff Tarkin’s strategy to the letter.” She punctuated the last phrase with an index finger jabbing the air. “Have everyone review their tapes. I want no mistakes. A flawless attack.”

She dimmed the lights as she stepped into the corridor. Her two stormtrooper bodyguards fell into ranks behind her. Their boot heels clicked on the floor in perfect echoing unison.

“We are through practicing,” Daala said to Kratas. “After our strike the planet Calamari will be nothing more than a rubble heap.”

Leia piloted Ackbar’s open-canopied wavespeeder as they rushed over the oceans of Calamari. The sky was still a congealed soup of dark clouds, but the previous day’s storm had run out of energy. The wind remained fresh and cool, tossing droplets of salty spray into their faces—but Leia could not stop smiling with relief just to know that Ackbar had agreed to come to Coruscant with her, if only to speak with Mon Mothma.

She and Cilghal would take him back to Foamwander City, where he could turn over his seismic data to other Calamarian scientists. Sitting in the backseat of the wavespeeder, Ackbar seemed deeply troubled and unsure of himself.

The lumpy hemisphere of the Calamarian city looked like a gunmetal-gray island. Other small seaskimmers drifted in and out, gathering up nets and dashing back to access openings.

Ackbar sat up stiffly. “Listen!”

Over the rushing noise of the wind and waves, Leia heard the sharp tones of an all-hands alarm. She grabbed the comm unit, punching buttons for Foamwander City control. “This is wavespeeder seventeen-oh-one/seven. What is the cause of the alarm?”

Before Leia could receive an answer, a curtain of brilliant light sliced through the clouds, slashing the ocean surface near the floating city. Geysers of suddenly vaporized water plumed into the air with a whoop.

“Those are turbolasers!” Leia said.

Ackbar gripped the side of his seat. “We’re being fired on from orbit.”

“Wave doors are closing,” said a maddeningly calm Calamarian voice through the speaker system. “All citizens take shelter immediately. Repeat, wave doors are closing.”

Most of the other sea vehicles had disappeared inside the various openings around the hull of Foamwander City. Those who could not make it to the doors abandoned their craft and dived overboard to swim down to submerged entryways.

Many wave doors had already clamped shut like diagonal mouths. Leia aimed for one of the remaining openings and punched the wavespeeder’s accelerator. The lurch pressed all three of them back against their padded seats.

Overhead, like a flock of razor-winged carrion birds, came an entire squadron of TIE fighters and TIE bombers. They swooped down in a steep descent with a roaring howl of their Twin Ion Engines.

The TIE bombers released glowing energy packets that exploded in the sea, sending out shock waves and foam and spray. TIE fighters roared over Foamwander City, strafing with their laser cannons. Lances of green light etched smoldering damage into the city shell.

One of the shock waves tossed a wall of water at Leia’s wavespeeder. She fought for control but did not slow down, keeping her eyes fixed on the closing wave doors. If they didn’t make it through the gap, they would be helpless out on the water, ready targets for the Imperial bombardment.

Ackbar said, “We left a squadron of B-wing fighters to defend the orbiting shipyards. Where are they? I have to learn what’s happening up there.”

Cilghal maintained a quiet, steady voice. “Perhaps they are otherwise occupied.”

“Hang on!” Leia said, and fired emergency thrusters.

The wavespeeder lifted another meter above the surface of the ocean as it flew in a last-ditch effort to get through the closing gap. Leia ducked as the diagonal metal wave doors ground closer and closer.…

The bottom layer of plasteel plating scraped off the wavespeeder as Leia struck the sharp edge of the heavy door; then they shot into the protected green-lit tunnel. With the vehicle traveling at such high speed, even that minor impact was enough to send them spinning. Leia wrestled with the controls, trying to slow the vehicle as it caromed off one wall and then the opposite wall, sending out showers of sparks. Finally it ground to a halt. Behind them, with a thunderous echo, the wave doors slammed shut.

Pausing only long enough to confirm that they were all unharmed, Leia picked her way out of the wreckage. Through the thick armor of the floating city she heard the repeated thuds of explosions from TIE bombers and the screams from firing laser cannons.

Ackbar stepped away from the wreckage and turned to Cilghal. “Take me to the control center immediately. I want to be linked with the orbital defense forces.” He already looked more alive, more alert. “If I can see what’s going on, maybe I can figure out a way to help us all.”

“Yes, Admiral,” Cilghal said. Leia wondered if she had used his rank intentionally.

Flashing lights and alarm sirens echoed as they hurried through the serpentine corridors. Groups of Quarren rushed past, burbling exclamations through their tentacled faces as they scrambled down access shafts to the underwater levels. Leia had no doubt they were abandoning the city structure, swimming down to where they thought they were safe.

When Cilghal reached a turbolift door, other Calamarians flocked to it, trying to get to the city’s protected inner chambers. Cilghal raised her voice, the first time Leia had heard her do so. “Make way for Admiral Ackbar! We must get to Central Command.

“Ackbar,” several Calamarians echoed, stepping aside to allow him passage. “Admiral Ackbar!”

Ackbar seemed taller now, without the haunted look he had worn since the crash on Vortex. Leia knew that all Calamarians remembered the nightmare of Imperial attacks—but if anyone could mount a successful defense with what little resources they had, it would be Ackbar.

After the turbolift spilled them out onto the proper level, Ambassador Cilghal led the way. She used her diplomatic access codes to let them into the core of Foamwander City until they finally emerged into the chaotic Central Command.

Seven Calamarian tactical experts sat at command stations, watching the battle overhead. In the center of the room a holographic wireframe diagram of the planet and its moon hovered amid sparkling pinpoints of fighters flying in defensive formation.

Leia stared in awe at the two Imperial Star Destroyers that orbited the planet side by side, firing turbolaser blasts into the oceans. Overhead, TIE squadrons continued to harass Foamwander City. External viewers showed smoldering holes where proton bombs had punctured the city’s armored plating. Foamwander’s defensive lasers fired upward, burning ship after ship out of the sky—but more attackers kept coming down.

Reeling with shock, the city commander turned from his post and noticed them for the first time. “Admiral Ackbar! Please, sir, help us with our defense. I cede my position.”

“Give me a tactical update,” Ackbar said, stepping to the holographic projection.

“Cilghal,” Leia said, raising her voice over the hubbub, “get me to the comm system. I can use my priority codes to send for New Republic military assistance. On a low frequency the codes can punch through any interference from those Star Destroyers.”

“Can their battleships get here in time?” Cilghal asked.

“Depends on how long we can maintain our defenses here,” Leia said.

Though Leia could read no specific emotion on Cilghal’s face, she sensed some measure of pride. “The Mon Calamari broke the first Imperial occupation using only common tools and scientific implements. This time we have real weapons. We can hold them off as long as necessary.” Cilghal motioned to a nearby control panel. “You may use that communication station to send your message.”

Leia hurried to the comm station and punched in the override codes to send a tight-beam encoded signal directly to Coruscant. “This is Minister Leia Organa Solo,” she said. “The planet Calamari is currently under attack by two Imperial Star Destroyers. We request immediate assistance. Repeat, immediate assistance! If you don’t get here soon, don’t bother to come.”

The city commander thrust a webbed hand into the holographic display of the battle. “We positioned the entire squadron of B-wing fighters to defend the shipyards, because we thought that would be the most likely target. But when the Star Destroyers came out of hyperspace, they went into orbit and began an assault on the floating cities. Right now both Star Destroyers are concentrating their firepower on Reef Home City. They’ve left two squadrons of TIE fighters and TIE bombers to cover Foamwander City. Another three squadrons are currently pummeling Coral Depths.”

“Commander,” one of the Calamarian tacticians spoke up, touching an implanted microphone at his ear hole. “We’ve lost all contact with Reef Home. Their last transmissions showed the outer hull breached in at least fifteen separate places, water rushing in. The final image showed a large-scale explosion. Static signature analysis implies that the entire city has been destroyed.”

A quiet moan of dismay rippled through Central Command. The city commander said tentatively, “I was about to withdraw defenses from the shipyards to attack the Star Destroyers.”

Ackbar looked at the swarms of B-wings still harrying the Imperial fighters. “Good decision, Commander,” he said, but stared intently at the map, at the moon, at the two Star Destroyers on the far side of the planet. “Wait a moment,” he said. “Something looks very familiar to me.”

He paused, nodding slowly as if his great head were too heavy for his shoulders. “Yes, Commander—withdraw the B-wing fighters, all of them. Send them to fight the Star Destroyers. Leave the shipyards entirely undefended.”

“Is that wise, Admiral?” Leia asked.

“No,” he said, “it is a trap.”

On the bridge of the Star Destroyer Gorgon, Admiral Daala watched the battle unfold below her, exactly as planned.

In her heart she felt a warm glow of pride for the tactical genius of Grand Moff Tarkin. Beside her ship the Basilisk mowed a swath of death across the watery surface. Like a swarm of angry insects, the TIE fighters swept away the pitiful resistance the Calamarians managed to mount.

The Rebel B-wing fighters and some of the midsized capital ships in orbit proved only a minor nuisance. As the Gorgon and the Basilisk went through their carefully choreographed misleading attack, the Calamarian defense forces had followed along as expected, like marionettes pulled by strings.

She turned to the communications officer at his station. “Contact Captain Brusc on the Manticore,” she said. “The Calamarian forces have finally left their shipyards undefended. He may begin his attack at once.”

Ackbar gestured with his hands and spoke with an undignified rapidity, as if he knew he didn’t have much time. “Before I was liberated by the Rebel Alliance, I was Moff Tarkin’s indentured assistant. He took great pleasure in telling me exactly how he was going to enslave other worlds. By observing him I learned the fundamentals of space-warfare tactics, including Tarkin’s own favorite strategies.”

He pointed a flipper-hand into the images of the two Star Destroyers. “Tarkin is dead, but I recognize this trick. I know what the Imperial commander plans to do. Do we have a sensor network on the far side of the moon?”

“No, Admiral,” the city commander said. “We had considered it years ago but—”

“I didn’t think so,” Ackbar said. “So we’re blind there, correct?”

“Correct.”

“What are you getting at, Admiral?” Leia said.

“There’s a third Star Destroyer hiding behind our moon.”

When Ackbar said that, half of the chattering voices in the room fell silent. The others turned toward him in amazement. “What proof do you have?”

Leia tried to use her fledgling powers with the Force to sense the hidden enemy ship, but either it was too distant, or she was not skilled enough … or it wasn’t there.

“The actions of the Imperial commander tell me all I need,” Ackbar said. “Their main target is indeed the shipyards. Moments after these two Star Destroyers came out of hyperspace, a third also emerged, concealed in the shadow of our moon. The vanguard attack is designed to lure us away from the shipyards, tricking us into throwing our entire defenses against a feint. When the third Star Destroyer comes in at full sublight speed, the shipyards will be helpless. With one run the third Star Destroyer can obliterate our starship assembly facilities with virtually no losses of its own.”

“But, Admiral,” the city commander said, “why did you just withdraw all of our forces from the shipyards?”

Ackbar nodded. “Because you are going to give me remote command of that ship.” He indicated the huge spacedock hangar where the skeletal hull of the new battle cruiser Startide hung in orbit.

“But, sir, none of the Startide’s weapons are functional.”

“But its engines work, if I am not mistaken?”

“Yes,” the city commander said, “we tested the sublight engines only last week. The hyperdrive reactor core has been installed, but we have never taken the ship into hyperspace.”

“Not necessary,” Ackbar said. “Have all the construction engineers been evacuated?”

“Yes, at first sign of the attack.”

“Then give me remote operations.”

“Admiral—” the city commander said tentatively, then punched in a command-code sequence. “If it were anyone other than you …”

Taking control, Ackbar stepped into the field where virtual images were projected with a parallax designed for wide-set telescopic eyes.

The half-constructed ship powered up its engines and locked into drone mode. With an inaudible roar of massive sublight engines the unarmed battleship crawled away from the orbital shipyards, picking up speed as it ascended from the planet’s gravity well. The engines were powerful enough to haul along the entire connected framework of the spacedock.

Ackbar didn’t mind. The more mass, the better.

Leia bit her lip as the echoes of attack thundered from above, as the external imagers showed the damage to Foamwander’s outer shell, as another wave of TIE fighters swooped down to scorch any exposed surface.

Cilghal seemed to have gone into a kind of a trance. Leia wondered if the shock had numbed her. The ambassador stood before the orbital images of swarming fighters, both the B-wing defenders and TIE attackers. She reached out with her fingers, touching seemingly random blips of light.

“This one, now this one … now this one,” she said. Barely a moment after she touched each one, the screen flared bright, marking the destruction of the indicated ships.

Leia was amazed, unable to believe that Cilghal could pick them so accurately. But with the fledgling abilities Luke had taught her, Leia could feel a tug in the female ambassador, an instinctive working of the Force. She asked, already suspecting the answer, “How are you doing that?”

“Just like with the school of fish,” Cilghal said quietly. “It’s only a trick—but I wish I could get in contact with our fighters. This one, this one!” With a long finger she traced one of the B-wing fighters that seemed perfectly safe in the midst of its own squadron, but then a damaged TIE fighter out of control spiraled through the group of ships and impacted the doomed B-wing. Cilghal had done the same thing with the school of fish as the krakana monster fed.

The female ambassador looked astonished and stricken. “There’s not enough time,” she said. “I can’t figure it out soon enough.”

Despite the fury of the Imperial attack, Leia felt a thread of wonder pass through her. Even without further testing, she knew that Cilghal had the potential to use her powers as a Jedi. Leia would have to send Cilghal to Luke’s training center on Yavin 4—if they somehow survived here.

Ackbar felt as if he were part of the massive derelict ship as he controlled it from the core of Foamwander City. He paid no attention to the loud status reports and alarms in Central Command. His entire body was an extension of the Startide, and he stared through sensor eyes.

Its engines added velocity to the great hulk. Calamari’s moon grew larger as he approached it, then began to streak by close to the airless cratered surface and out of sensor range to the dark side of the moon. Where the third Star Destroyer lay in wait.

Ackbar powered up the Startide’s hyperdrive reactors and shut off the automatic coolant systems. Alarms ran through his body as the ship’s warning routines screamed at him. But Ackbar increased the power output, trying to hold it in, restraining the seething energy that waited to explode from the great uncompleted battleship.

As he brought the Startide around the curve of the moon, Ackbar saw the arrowhead shape of a third Star Destroyer just powering up its weapons batteries. “There it is.”

The third Star Destroyer suddenly detected the Mon Calamari battle cruiser and began unleashing a flurry of turbolaser bolts—but Ackbar didn’t care.

One of the blasts detonated a joint in the spacedock framework surrounding the Startide, and a network of girders dropped into space. Molten droplets flew from the starboard flank where a direct hit vaporized part of the hull.

Ackbar drove on at full speed on his suicide run, heading directly down the Star Destroyer’s throat. The Imperial ship continued to fire.

Ackbar released the last safety mechanisms that held the unshielded hyperdrive reactor in check. The superheated energy furnace would reach its flash point within seconds.

He disconnected himself from the command console and let the laws of physics take their course.

Admiral Daala shouted into the comm system. “Captain Brusc, tell me what’s going on!”

The Manticore had just begun its triumphant run to destroy the Calamarian shipyards when all havoc broke loose. Alarms interrupted her transmission.

The captain scrambled and shouted orders. “It’s another ship, Admiral!” Brusc said, flashing a glance and wanting to bark orders, yet not quite daring to ignore Daala. “It came out of nowhere. They must have known we were here.”

“Impossible,” Daala said. “They couldn’t have known we were there. We left no sensor trace. Ops! Give me the Manticore’s tactical sensors.”

On the screen Daala saw her third Star Destroyer and the skeletal Calamarian star cruiser. It looked ridiculously cumbersome, dragged back by heavy construction frameworks—yet it moved inexorably. Daala understood the suicide tactic immediately.

“Get out of there!”

The Manticore veered to get out of the Startide’s path, but the Calamarian cruiser came on too fast. The Manticore’s turbolaser batteries did nothing to slow its approach.

Daala held her back rigid, forcing herself not to wince. She gripped the cold rail at her bridge station. Her knuckles whitened. The plasteel floor seemed to drop out from under her. Her dry mouth opened in a wordless shout of No!

The Calamarian battleship struck the underbelly of the Manticore. Just before the impact, though, the Startide went nova, erupting into blinding waves of energy that tore the Manticore apart.

Captain Brusc’s transmission cut off abruptly.

Daala turned away, gritting her teeth and refusing to let acid tears of failure well up in her green eyes. She thought of all the weaponry, all the personnel, all the responsibility that had just been destroyed.

She stared into space, blinded by the brilliant double explosion that flowed out behind Calamari’s moon, creating an artificial eclipse.