Monday, January 4, 2010

Dreadnaughts Attack!

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Lando said with strained patience. “And fiddling with that helm isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“You’re right,” Han agreed, smiling tightly. It’s not going to get us anywhere.” Dark Force Rising

---------------------------------------------------

“General Bel Iblis,” the uniformed man greeted as the airlock hatch rolled away. “It‘s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Colonel Colchis.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” Bel Iblis replied, studying the other man’s face. He knew a little bit about Colchis already, of course; and he knew especially that the colonel had been part of the Chandrila contingent that had jumped ship with Admiral Drayson, years ago. That group tended to adulate Mon Mothma almost as much as they adulated the Republic itself, and didn’t take kindly to those that had disagreed with her.

But there wasn’t any stiffness or resentment in Colchis that Bel Iblis could see. “Let me introduce my associate,” he said, indicating the woman behind him. “Sena Leikvold Midanyl.”

Sena accepted Colchis‘s second salute with a curt nod. “So this is Ogamni,” she observed, casting a looking around.

“Yes, ma’am,” Colchis nodded, giving the base a once-over himself. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as, say, Ord Pardron or Sluis Van. But it was the major defensive outpost for at least two adjacent Republic sectors, and it was impressive enough. “Or at least, the orbital base. There are also a couple administrative offices down on the planet itself.” He pointed out a nearby viewport.

Bel Iblis followed where he pointed, to see the blue-and-white planet framed below. “I’m surprised more staff isn’t stationed planetside.”

Colchis shrugged. “Admiral Ackbar felt we would have a faster response time if the main base was kept up here, on the orbital platforms.”

“Of course,” Bel Iblis agreed, moving his gaze from the planet to the long string of ships docked along the platforms’ length. “Ogamni is primarily a starfighter base, is that right?”

“That’s correct, sir. We have up to three squadrons on call at all times, rotating in six-hour shifts. That’s in addition to the team that does reconnaissance and surveillance. All told we have about two-hundred starfighters stationed here.”

“But you do service some capital ships?” Bel Iblis pressed.

Colchis smiled. “You’re referring to the ships in Dock Five. Yes, though usually only in special circumstances. No doubt you recognize some of the ships yourself.”

Bel Iblis frowned. Of course he recognized them. There was his flagship the Peregrine, of course, plus a couple Assault Frigates that looked like they were in the middle of a hyperdrive overhaul. Past them he could see a lone Mon Cal Star Cruiser, its organic shape looking rather out of place among the hard lines of the industrial-style platform. And in Dock Five…

“Well, I’ll be,” he exclaimed. “Those are Dreadnaughts.”

“Yes, sir,” Colchis nodded, his smiling growing even wider. “But not just any Dreadnaughts. Those are pre-Clone Wars Rendili Dreadnaughts.”

“Of course,” Bel Iblis said, giving the Dreadnaughts another look. The dark gray Dreadnaughts… “I didn’t know any of the Dark Force were in service yet,” he said.

“Technically, they’re aren’t. After the Katana battle Admiral Drayson ordered the remaining Dreadnaughts be towed here for a complete overall of their sublight drives.”

“I wouldn’t have thought Ogamni would have the facilities necessary for something like that,” Sena commented.

Colchis shrugged. “It’s true we deal with snubfighters most of the time. But we can handle capital ships, when the situation requires.”

“And the overhaul?” Bel Iblis asked. “How is it coming along?”

“As well as can be expected,” Colchis said. “Grand Admiral Thrawn certainly took the best for himself. But the ones I’ve inspected are in pretty good condition. We’re almost finished with the first batch and expect to put them into service by the end of next week.”

And not a moment too soon, Bel Iblis reflected. With Grand Admiral Thawn and his own Katana Dreadnaughts out there attacking every Republic base he could find, they needed all the ships they could get. “But I’m sure you came to look at more than just a couple Dreadnaughts?” Colchis said pointedly.

With an effort Bel Iblis brought himself back to the matter at hand. “Yes,” he said. “Admiral Ackbar has asked me to go over the emergency attack response plans for this sector.”

“Of course, General,” Colchis said, indicating down the corridor that led to the base proper. “We’d already gotten word of your arrival. If you’ll follow me, please?”

* * *

“This is Rogue Three,” the comm in Wedge’s X-wing crackled. “You copy, Rogue Leader?”

“I’m here, Rogue Three,” Wedge responded into his headset. “Anything to report?”

“Nothing on this side of the base,” Janson sighed; and Wedge could hear the boredom in his voice. A boredom Wedge could relate to. Sitting around waiting for Thrawn’s next move was bad enough; but getting stuck on these inspection tours was absolute torture.

He looked out his canopy at the expansive stretch of base floating above the blue-green planet. Still, he figured, it could be worse. Only a couple weeks ago Rogue Squadron had been stuck doing escort duty for cargo ships. Now at least they were attached to the legendary Garm Bel Iblis’s task force, getting the Republic’s defenses ready for whenever the heavy part of Thrawn’s hammer finally came down. There were worse assignments to pull.

“Do another loop,” Wedge ordered, easing his X-wing past a Corellian Corvette that was heading for Dock Four. “I doubt the Empire is silly enough to attack a major Republic base—”

“But a guy can hope?”

Wedge smiled. “Something like that,” he said. Things had been relatively quiet for Rogue Squadron ever since that skirmish for the Katana fleet, and he could tell a lot of his people were itching for a little action once again.

And with a Grand Admiral out there, you never knew. Wedge wouldn’t have thought the Empire crazy enough to try plucking fifty capital ships out of a Republic shipyard; yet that‘s exactly what Thrawn had done at Sluis Van. With the Katana Dreadnaughts in his control, and with these supposed clone soldiers to crew them, who knew what Thawn would be crazy enough to try next?

And probably pull it off, too, Wedge reflected sourly. Maybe a little boredom wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

He’d almost finished his own loop of the base when his X-wing’s sensors picked up the blip of a new ship coming inbound. Wedge drifted his X-wing lazily toward it…

“Alert!” the voice of Ogamni Control suddenly blared in his ear. “Imperial Star Destroyer exiting hyperspace!”

Wedge frowned, as much from surprise as anything else. Surely that couldn’t be right. A Star Destroyer, here? Wedge brought it up on his display—

And swore as it finally came up. It was an Imperial Star Destroyer, all right, coming out on a vector that brought it just out of turbolaser range on the far side of the base. Even as he finished his turn he could see the Star Destroyer's distant arrowhead shape, drifting beyond the battle-station. “Rogue Group, this is Rogue Leader,” he said into the comm. “All units, report in.”

“Rogue Three, standing by,” Janson’s voice came back promptly. “Looks like the Empire’s silly enough to try attacking this place, after all.”

“Or genius enough,” Rogue Five cut in. “What‘s the word, Wedge?”

“Form up,” Wedge ordered, flicking a switch on his console. “Lock S foils into attack position. We’ll try to fly along their main axis and then break starboard. I don’t know how long it’ll take the rest of the base to scramble their fighters—”

“Belay that, Rogue Squadron,” a new voice interrupted, and Wedge recognized it as the voice of Ogamni Control. “You are ordered to stand down and hold position on the far side of the base. Maintain your patrol and await further orders.”

Wedge started at his comm display, his mouth agape in disbelief. “Say again, Control,” he said into the comm. “Did you just instruct to stand down?”

“That’s an affirmative, Rogue Leader. Colonel Colchis wants all starfighters to maintain position. Capital ships only are to engage.”

Wedge still couldn’t believe it. But it wasn’t his place to argue. “Copy that, Control,” he relented, powering down his laser cannons. “Holding position.”

With a sigh he switched off the comm. “You heard the man,” he said on Rogue Squadron’s private frequency. “We’re to stand down and await further orders.”

“With a Star Destroyer just sitting out there?” Rogue Eight challenged.

“Those are our orders,” Wedge confirmed, casting another look out the canopy . But the Star Destroyer was still just sitting there. Waiting. What are you up to this time? he wondered.

* * *

Thrawn stood silently for a long moment at one of the Chimaera’s bridge viewports. “You see what they’re doing, don’t you, Captain?” he asked.

Standing stiffly beside Thrawn, and feeling a little too much like a cadet on his first day at the Academy, Pellaeon squinted out the viewport at the cluster of ships outside. “Uh…not really, Admiral.”

“Of course you do,” Thrawn admonished, pointing out at the far end of Ogamni’s orbital platform. “Notice how they’re launching their capital ships to engage while leaving the fighters in back-up position. The Chandrilans simply aren’t familiar enough with starfighter combat to know the best ways to make use of them. A mistake, really, to put one in charge of a starfighter base.”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said. Of course, they already knew from the Intelligence report that a Chandrilan was in charge of the Ogamni base. “Should I launch our own fighters?”

“Not yet,” Thrawn shook his head. “We only want to draw out their main force. No need to put any more of our own ships at risk than necessary. In fact,” he added, “let’s hold our position here. It seems our prey has decided to come to us without the need for further provocation.”

Pellaeon relayed the order to the helm officer and then returned his attention to the viewport. Thrawn was right, as usual: outside he could see a handful of capital ships—mostly assault frigates, though Pellaeon also noticed at least one of those hideous Mon Calamari cruisers—converging on the Chimaera. “Shall I have communications activate the signal?” Pellaeon asked.

“Let’s let them get a little closer,” Thrawn said, a small smile forming on his lips. “We wouldn’t want to show our hand too soon.”

Pellaeon nodded. And waited.

* * *

Bel Iblis had sent Sena back to the Peregrine when the alarms had started, but they’d finally been turned off by the time he and Colchis stumbled into the base’s command center. Everything was in complete chaos. Officers were scrambling from console to console, while at their own stations comm operators were speaking frantically into their microphones. Yes, it was chaos, all right. “Report,” Colchis ordered, grabbing a nearby man in a major’s uniform.

“Imperial Star Destroyer, came out of hyperspace two minutes ago,” the major said. “It’s moved itself into position just out of range of the platform’s turbolasers.”

A Star Destroyer?” Bel Iblis repeated, frowning. “Just the one?”

“So far,” the major confirmed, “although it may be a feint. We’re mobilizing our ships now.”

“What about fighters?” Bel Iblis asked. “Bombers? Has the Star Destroyer launched any of those?”

“No, sir,” the major shook his head.

“Have they launched any kind of support craft?” Bel Iblis pressed.

The major gave him a funny look, clearly not holding too high of an opinion of the great General Bel Iblis. “None yet.”

“What are you thinking?” Colchis interjected.

Bel Iblis sighed. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, taking a hard look at the tactical display in the center of the room. The major was right: Bel Iblis could see the red blip that was the Star Destroyer, parked just out of turbolaser range on the platform’s far side. Just sitting there. “But I don’t like it. Forget Thrawn’s reputation for a minute. Have you ever heard of a single Star Destroyer taking on an entire Republic base?”

“So you think it’s a feint, too?”

“I don‘t know…” Bel Iblis‘s voice trailed off. “But I don’t like it. How far is the nearest Republic task force?” he asked, looking at Colchis.

Colchis turned to the major. “General Kryll’s group is currently touring the Generis system,” the major said. “He could be here in maybe twenty minutes.”

“Can you get them here any quicker?” Bel Iblis asked, studying the main display again. Colchis’s men had already moved the base’s capital ships into intercept positions: he could see three Assault Frigates flanking that Mon Cal Star Cruiser as it bore down on the Star Destroyer. Further back a handful of starfighter squadrons circled restlessly.

“I can try,” Colchis said, “but we’re the main military outpost in this sector. Usually people are calling us for help.”

“Do it anyway,” Bel Iblis suggested. “Who knows what Thrawn's got up his sleeve this time?”

Colchis gave the major a nod, and the other scurried off to the comm station. “Any other orders, General?” Colchis asked, his tone deferential.

Bel Iblis studied the other man, saw the respectful look in his eye. Whatever concerns he’d had about Colchis before, they were gone now. “Have that Star Cruiser hold its position,” he said, pointing at the display, “and reform the Assault Frigate formation in a triangle-vee pattern. How many starfighter squadrons can you scramble on short notice?”

“We’ve already got two X-wing squadrons out there running patrol,” Colchis said. “Three more are ready to launch on my order.”

“I suggest you give it,” Bel Iblis told him. On the main display he could see the Star Cruiser suddenly stop, about two klicks away from the Star Destroyer. Meanwhile the three Assault Frigates were beginning to move into a triangle-vee attack formation, passing the Star Cruiser as they neared the Star Destroyer.

His gaze drifted back towards the platforms along Dock Five, and the dark gray shapes berthed there. “What about the Katana Dreadnaughts?” he asked suddenly. “You said the retrofitting was almost complete. Can they be launched, too?”

Colchis considered. “Theoretically,” he said, “but we don't have enough men to crew them. Admiral Drayson was supposed to send a caretaker crew in a couple days.”

It was about this time that the major finally returned from the comm station. “We were able to make contact with General Kryll’s group,” he said. “They should be here in fifteen minutes.”

Bel Iblis nodded, looking out at the distant figure of the waiting Star Destroyer, and hoped it would be enough. “So what now?” the major asked.

“Now, major,” Bel Iblis said, “we find out what that Star Destroyer is really doing here.”

* * *

Outside the Chimaera’s viewport the Assault Frigates suddenly changed formation. “Interesting,” Thrawn murmured, almost to himself. He looked at Pellaeon. “You see what they’re doing now, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon nodded, watching the Frigates carefully. There could be no doubt about it: they were forming up into a classic forward-vee pattern. “It looks like the same pattern those Dreadnaughts used over New Cov a couple weeks ago.”

“Very astute, Captain,” Thrawn praised, “very astute, indeed. Your observation is of course correct, and therefore lends itself to only one logical conclusion. Our friend the Corellian is in charge.”

Pellaeon frowned. “Bel Iblis? But I thought a Chandrilan ran this base.”

“Oh, he most certainly does,” Thrawn assured him. “But it seems the legendary Bel Iblis was available to lend a hand. No doubt he’s on a tour of all the bases in this sector.”

“I don’t recall seeing anything from Intelligence to that effect.”

“Neither do I,” Thrawn admitted, “nor from Delta Source, either. It appears the General has managed to fly under the radar.” He shrugged. “No matter. We’ll simply have that much more interesting of an audience for our demonstration.” He looked down at the still-approaching shapes of the Rebel Frigates. “Speaking of which, I think the time has come. Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon confirmed, checking his screen. “Communications is ready to begin broadcasting at your command.”

“They have it,” Thrawn informed him. “Lieutenant Tschel,” he called down the portside crew pit, “activate the signal.”

* * *

Wedge bit his lip impatiently. He’d spent most of his adult life gunning Imperials into space dust, and it wasn’t in his nature to wait politely for permission to start. Especially when he couldn’t see any reason for it. “This is ridiculous,” Rogue Five spoke up. “There’s a Star Destroyer not five klicks away, and we’re just sitting here?”

“Settle down, Rogue Five,” Wedge warned, shooting him a quick look out the cockpit canopy even though he knew the other couldn’t see him. Griping about command decisions was a good way to get yourself court martialed, even on a supposedly closed circuit.

Still, Wedge had to admit, Rogue Five had a point. That Star Destroyer was still just sitting there, but Wedge knew that couldn’t possibly last. Thrawn surely had something bigger planned, and Wedge would rather be on the offensive when it happened. “Looks like the Frigates are finally moving in,” Rogue Three broke into his thoughts.

Wedge glanced at his monitor. Janson was right. The Star Cruiser had held position about two klicks out, but the Assault Frigates had reformed into a triangle-vee pattern and were moving now into firing range. Whatever it was that was about the happen, it looked like it was about to happen now.

Behind him his R2 unit suddenly gave a little trill. “What is it?” Wedge asked.

The droid warbled again, and on his monitor a long translation flashed across the screen. “Signal?” Wedge repeated. “What kind of signal?”

“Hey, Wedge,” Janson’s voice interrupted again. “My R2 unit’s picking up some kind of weird signal coming from that Star Destroyer.”

“Mine, too,” Wedge admitted, studying the report that came up. Low-frequency; probably pre-Clone Wars, from what his R2 could determine. And definitely coming from that Star Destroyer. “I don’t like this, Wedge,” Janson said.

“I don’t, either,” Wedge said, thinking. There was something about this that was oddly familiar, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what. For a moment he was reminded of that incident at the Sluis Van shipyards a few weeks back, staring out at that supposedly empty bulk freighter and faced with the same, nagging feeling. Keying up his sensors he ran a scan of the surrounding area. But no; there were no mysterious freighters this time. But the nagging feeling simply wouldn’t go away…

“Wedge!” Rogue Five exclaimed. “Look out!”

His warning came almost too late. Instinctively Wedge yanked on his control stick, just as the sizzling blue flash of an ion burst streaked through the space his X-wing had been occupying seconds before. Wedge spun the fighter into a tight spiral, even as a second blast followed quickly behind the first. “What in space is going on?” he barked, steering the ship around. “Did another ship sneak up behind us?”

But Rogue Five’s voice came back grimly. “No,” he said, “that blast came from the Katana Dreadnaughts. Look.”

Rogue Five was right. Outside Wedge could see two of the dark gray Dreadnaughts moving out of their docking berths and heading towards the battle, their ion cannon shooting haphazardly at the nearby X-wings. “I didn’t know Bel Iblis had launched the Dreadnaughts,” Rogue Six observed.

“I don’t think he did,” Rogue Five said as he swooped to avoid an incoming ion blast. His voice was still grim. “Take a look. They're moving to intercept that Star Cruiser. I think the Empire’s got control of them.”

Wedge swallowed, a sinking feeling settling into his stomach. So that was it. Somehow Thrawn had managed to sneak a hijacking team aboard the base, and was using the Star Destroyer to cover their escape…

But that tingling feeling was back, and worse than ever. Carefully Wedge cast another look out his canopy. The two Dreadnaughts had already moved into attack positions behind the Mon Cal Cruiser, and the space between them was suddenly lit up as both sides began exchanging blue and red laser fire; meanwhile, three more Dreadnaughts had slipped out of their berths and were moving into better positions to pound away at the platform itself. There was something about this that was all too familiar…something Wedge couldn’t quite place…

And then, all of a sudden, the memory clicked. “Ogamni Control,” Wedge snapped into the comm, flicking it on, “this is Rogue Leader. I have an urgent message for General Bel Iblis.”

“Acknowledged, Rogue Leader,” Control’s voice came back promptly. “General Bel Iblis is occupied at the moment and cannot be disturbed.”

Wedge swore. “Fine,” he said. “Then get me Colonel Colchis.”

“Colonel Colchis is occupied and cannot be disturbed—”

“Listen,” Wedge interrupted, straining for patience. “This is Commander Wedge Antilles. I flew with Luke Skywalker at the Battle of Yavin and led the assault on Endor. Now get me General Bel Iblis.”

There was a pause at the other end. “Stand by,” the other said, and the comm went silent.

One of his X-wing pilots whistled. “Way to drop the hammer, Wedge,” Rogue Eight said. “What’s up?”

“I know exactly what the Empire’s doing with those Dreadnaughts,” he said, reaching over and powering up his laser cannons. “In the meantime we’re going in, orders or no orders. Rogue Squadron: attack.”

* * *

“Report from the Assault Frigates, General,” someone from the comm station called out. “They’ve engaged the Star Destroyer.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Bel Iblis said. Indeed he could see on the main display the sudden flash of turbolaser fire as the three Assault Frigates opened their batteries on the opposing ship.

He was still watching the monitor closely when Colchis stepped up beside him. “General, I think you better take a look at this,” he said.

“What is it, Colonel?” Bel Iblis asked, following Colchis to one of the sensor stations.

“One of our communications officers picked up a strange signal coming from the Star Destroyer a few moments ago,” he said. “Show him, Lieutenant.”

“It’s not any signal I recognize, sir,” the officer said, bringing up the broadcast on his screen so Bel Iblis could see it. “Certainly not a standard Imperial code. It almost looks like an Old Republic signal.”

“It is,” Bel Iblis confirmed. He recognized it, at least. “It’s a pre-Clone Wars slave circuit signal. The question is, why are they broadcasting it?”

“It’s a low-frequency signal,” Colchis noted, pointing at the screen. “Could it be some kind of secret message they didn’t think we’d notice?”

“Unlikely,” Bel Iblis said, thinking. “I wonder if—”

“Colonel!” someone called out suddenly from the other side of the command center. “Message from the Star Cruiser: they’re under attack!”

Bel Iblis looked back at the main display, a flicker of irritation flashing through his mind. He’d told them to maintain position two kilometers out. If they‘d moved back into attack position…

But no, there it was, precisely where he’d left it: waiting two klicks out from the Star Destroyer. But coming up behind it… “Where did those Dreadnaughts come from?” he demanded.

“I…I’m not sure, sir,” the sensor officer admitted. “I didn’t see them come out of lightspeed—”

“Those are Dark Force Dreadnaughts,” Colchis said. “Those are our Dreadnaughts.”

Bel Iblis started to protest, took another look at the display. Yes, Colchis was right: those were definitely Katana Dreadnaughts. The same ones that had been berthed in Dock Five. Now attacking a Republic ship. “I thought you said you didn’t have the crews to man them,” he said.

We don’t,” Colchis insisted, “and I didn’t order them launched. Anyway why would they be firing on another Republic ship?”

Bel Iblis gritted his teeth. “Thrawn. He must have snuck a hijacking crew aboard the base to steal the Dreadnaughts…”

But even as he said it he realized how ridiculous it sounded. Thrawn already had almost two-hundred Katana Dreadnaughts in Imperial service. Why go to all this trouble just to get a couple more?

On the display the space between the Dreadnaughts and the Star Cruiser was flashing with laser fire. “We have to do something,” Colchis said.

“You mean fire on our own ships?” Bel Iblis challenged, but he knew Colchis was right. Star Cruisers were tough, but even they couldn’t take a lot of pounding from a couple of Dreadnaughts for very long.

“Disable them, then,” Colchis insisted, “or else neutralize them. We can take out their ion cannon emplacements, at least, without seriously damaging them.”

“General,” the communications officer called out. Bel Iblis looked in his direction. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but I’ve got an X-wing pilot who insists on speaking with you. It’s Rogue Leader. He says its urgent.”

“Antilles?” Bel Iblis said, stepping over. “Go ahead and put it through.”

There was a sudden burst of static at the other end. “This is Bel Iblis,” he said into the comm. “Go ahead, Antilles.”

“General,” Antilles’ voice came back, “sorry to bother you, sir, but I know what’s going on with those Dreadnaughts. We need to get some wide-blanket jamming going right away.”

“Commander Antilles, this is Colonel Colchis,” Colchis interjected. “What do you mean, you know what’s going on?”

“Those are Katana Dreadnaughts,” Antilles explained impatiently. “Thrawn’s got them running on the same slave circuit signal they were running forty years ago; that‘s how he‘s controlling them. If we can jam his signal, we should be able to block the remote control.”

It made sense to Bel Iblis. But Colchis still wasn’t convinced. “And how do you know this?” he persisted.

Bel Iblis thought he might have heard an impatient sigh. “My squadron was at the battle at Sluis Van with Han Solo and Luke Skywalker a few weeks back. We were attacked by one of our own ships then, too—that’s what helped me make the connection. During the fight Captain Solo observed that the mole miners the Empire was using operated on slave remote, which could be blocked with any standard jamming signal. The same should be true of the Katana Dreadnaughts.”

“It’s worth a shot, anyway,” Bel Iblis agreed, nodding toward the communications officer. “Lieutenant, I want you to begin emitting a blanket-wide comm jam. Broadcast on the same frequency that Star Destroyer is doing; that should do the trick.”

The communications officer acknowledged, and then Bel Iblis and Colchis returned to the main combat display. And crossed their fingers.

* * *

“Admiral!” Tschel’s voice came from the portside crew pit. “Admiral, we’re picking up some interference on the slave circuit…”

“Yes, Lieutenant, I know,” Thrawn sighed, looking out the viewport. Even Pellaeon could see the Dreadnaughts were suddenly struggling to maintain position, drifting out of their formation. A few seconds later their ion cannons fell silent. “Unfortunate, really.”

“Sir?” Pellaeon asked.

Thrawn indicated out at the Dreadnaughts. “I noticed a new signal coming from the Rebel station a few moments ago. A low-frequency jamming that’s blocking the slave remote. It seems our Corellian friend was able to figure out our little subterfuge sooner than I had expected. Interesting.”

For another minute the two of them stood there, staring at the floating hulks of the Katana Dreadnaughts. But only for a minute. Already Pellaeon noticed the Mon Cal Star Cruiser, its flank no longer in danger, moving in to join the three Assault Frigates that were already pounding the Chimaera. “Uh, Admiral,” Pellaeon interjected into Thrawn’s thoughts. “That Star Cruiser is headed this way.”

Thrawn shook away his musings. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, of course you’re right, Captain. Prepare the ship for lightspeed. We’ll leave as soon as the hyperspace calculation is complete.”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon passed on the order. “Don’t worry, Admiral, we‘ll be back soon enough.”

Glowing red eyes turned toward Pellaeon. “My pride is hardly wounded here, Captain. After all, actually harming the Rebels was only our secondary objective. Do you have the final numbers on the attack’s battle data?”

“The calculations just came in,” Pellaeon said, turning to his board and bringing up the analysis report. “The new crewers performed at an across-the-board average of 54% better than the same baseline two months ago. The numbers for accuracy and efficiency are even higher.”

“Excellent,” Thrawn said…and Pellaeon thought he might have detected a hint of relief in the Admiral’s tone. A relief Pellaeon could readily identify with. It was one thing to take a group of clones and flash-train them on simulators and war games. But at the end of the day there was no replacement for actual combat experience.

But for now, at least, it seemed the Empire’s investment was paying off. “Excellent,” Thrawn said again, sounding more pleased this time. “Then there’s little reason to stay here. Is the lightspeed calculation complete?”

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon nodded.

“Then let’s be off. We’ll leave Bel Iblis to his victory for now. It may be a long while indeed before he has another one.”

1 comment:

  1. When are we going to see a story about Leia? Enough with the boys.

    ReplyDelete