Tarkin

“Escape is not their intention,” Tarkin said.

Vader turned away from the viewport to look at him.

“If escape were their plan,” Tarkin said, “they would have already done so.” He cleared his throat meaningfully. “No. They have something else in mind. Perhaps to strike at another target.” Once more he pressed the headpiece speaker to his ear, then toggled a switch that routed the audio feed to the enunciator.

“—calculations are ready, Governor Tarkin,” a deep voice a

“Thank you, Colonel,” Tarkin said into the headset mike. “In the meantime, I want a list of local systems that host Imperial resources.”

“I can provide that information now, Governor. We have a large garrison in the Felucia system. Rhen Var has a small dirtside outpost. Nam Chorios has both a mining colony and a small Imperial prison facility. We have additional outposts at Trogan and Jomark. And of course, the naval base and R/M Facility Four deepdock at Belderone.”

“What do we have parked at R/M, Colonel?”

“Several CR-ninety corvettes, two Carrack-class light cruisers, a couple of Victories, and a Venator-class destroyer — the Liberator.”

“Stand by, Colonel.” Tarkin muted the audio feed and swiveled toward Vader. “Are you reasonably certain that our particle beams wounded them?”

Vader nodded.

“If the hyperdrive is damaged, they might opt to lie low to effect repairs,” Tarkin said.

Vader nodded again. “Or go in search of replacement parts.”

“And if they’re not wounded?”

“Continue their mission,” Vader said with finality.

Tarkin fell silent for a long moment. Never having had an opportunity to put the Carrion Spike through her paces, the recent engagement had left him with an even more profound appreciation for the ship. “Why didn’t they kill us when they had the chance? Could it be they believe they were being pursued by the Sugi crime lord?”

“No,” Vader said sharply. “They know that we are here.”

“Then perhaps they didn’t kill us because they have a rendezvous or a schedule to keep?”

“Perhaps,” Vader said.

Tarkin swiveled in place. “Belderone?”

“Too heavily fortified — even for your corvette.”

“Felucia, then — in reprisal for the way the Republic left it.”

“Of no significance.”

“Rhen Var is merely an outpost … So: Nam Chorios?”

Vader took a moment to respond. “Instruct Belderone to send the Liberator there.”

Tarkin activated the headset microphone. “Colonel, we need to contact Belderone and Coruscant,” he started to say, then cut himself off on hearing Vader growl.

“What is it?”

“Whoever they are, they are resourceful.” The Dark Lord turned slowly from the viewports. “They have jettisoned the meditation chamber.”

The voice of the starfighter squadron commander issued from the enunciator. “Lord Vader, our sca

“Commander, order your pilots to open fire along that vector — lasers and proton torpedoes if they have them.”

“Lord Vader, we have a detonation,” the commander said a moment later.

Tarkin leapt from the chair to stand alongside Vader. “Did they hit the Carrion Spike?”

The answer was slow to arrive. “Lord Vader,” the commander said, “the enemy has taken out the system hyperspace buoy. Our sensors are also picking up wake rotation readings.”

“They have jumped to lightspeed,” Vader said.

Tarkin ran a hand over his high forehead. “Then they’ve managed to make themselves untraceable, as well as invisible.”

A case of Do or Die

ITS TIERED ROOF a canopy of sca

Constructed soon after the end of the war atop monads that had once made up the Republic’s strategic center, Naval Intelligence was a nexus for gathering and analyzing transmissions that poured in from across the ecumenopolis and from all sectors of the expanding Empire. And yet its operations were not conducted in complete secrecy. During the construction phase, micro-holocams had been installed in every nook and cra

Just now the Joint Chiefs of the Empire’s military were gathered — Admiral Antonio Motti, General Cassio Tagge, Rear Admirals Ozzel, Jerjerrod, and others — along with several top officers from COMPNOR, including Director Armand Isard, ISB deputy director Harus Ison, and Colonel Wullf Yularen. Naval Intelligence was represented by Vice Admirals Rancit and Screed, who had requested the meeting.

With the bright light of late afternoon pouring through the tall windows of the Palace spire’s pi

“Tint the windows,” Sidious said without taking his gaze from the projected holograms.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

With the daylight dimmed, the cyan-hued holograms acquired more detail. The intelligence officers had asked for an audience in the Palace, but Sidious had turned them down. Similarly he had declined to attend their meeting virtually. As nettlesome as it was to have learned that the dissidents in possession of Tarkin’s starship had embarked on a killing spree in the Outer Rim, Sidious found the cachet-driven spitefulness of the intelligence chiefs to be even more tedious. So he had dispatched Mas Amedda and Ars Dangor in his stead.

“I accept the dissidents have managed to wreak havoc in an isolated star system,” Ison was saying, “but the fact remains that they brought only one ship to bear on our facility.”

“One ship capable of hiding itself from sca

“Permit me to amend my statement, then,” Ison continued as Rancit allowed his words to trail off. “One fast and powerful ship. Still, they used it to launch an attack on an unimportant outpost.”

“The start of a campaign of destruction,” Screed interjected.

The officers were grouped around a large circular table, with Mas Amedda and Ars Dangor occupying prominent seats. Above the center of the table floated 3-D star maps, wire-frame displays, and plotting panels, some showing the locations of Outer Rim bases and installations, others the disposition of ships of the fleet, with symbols denoting Star Destroyers, Dreadnoughts, corvettes, and frigates, on down to pickets and gunboats.