Tarkin

On the far side of a series of massive transparisteel panels set into the partition, several hazmat-suited forensic technicians were examining wreckage from the battle and ru

Hung in walking configuration with its blaster ca

Tarkin had lost count of how many back-and-forth meanders he had completed, and was standing opposite the vulture droid when a decontamination lock in the partition opened and a tech emerged, removing the hood of his anti-rad suit and wiping sweat from his face and balding pate with a bare hand.

Tarkin spun around to meet him halfway. “What have you learned?”

“Not as much as we’d hoped to, sir,” the tech said. “Analysis of data received by the command center’s friend-or-foe indicator confirms that the capital ship is a downsized version of a Separatist Providence-class cruiser-carrier, modified with modules taken from CIS frigates and destroyers. Ships of the sort made a name for themselves during the war by jamming signals and destroying HoloNet relays. Parts of the ship’s sensor array tower, which the Seps usually mounted aft rather than forward, appear to have come from the cruiser Lucid Voice, which saw action at Quell, Ryloth, and in a couple of other contested systems.”

Tarkin frowned. “How did the appropriation teams manage to miss confiscating that ship?”

“They didn’t, sir. Records show that the Lucid Voice was dismantled at the Bilbringi shipyards four years ago.”

Tarkin considered that. “In other words, some components of that vessel went missing.”

“Lost, stolen, sold, it’s impossible to say. Other sections of the warship appear to have come from the Invincible.”

Tarkin didn’t bother to mask his surprise. “That was Separatist Admiral Trench’s ship — destroyed during the Battle of Christophsis.”

“Partially destroyed, in any case. The ship was modular in design, and the modules that survived must have been worth salvaging and putting on the open market. Parts dealers in the Outer Rim are desperate for supplies, so the modules may have ended up in the Tion Cluster or the like.” The tech removed his other elbow-length glove and wiped his face again. “The Idellian sca

“Whoever, as you say.”

“Lucid Voice was built by the Quarren Free Dac Volunteers Engineering Corps — much to the displeasure of the Mon Cals who share their planet with the Quarren. We’re checking to see if QFD or their erstwhile partners, Pammant Docks, might have supervised the reassembly. TradeFed and Separatist technology has been showing up lately in the Corporate Sector, so we’re also looking into the possibility that the ship was built there. The Headhunter starfighters seen in the holovid could have come from anywhere. Tikiars are produced in the Senex, but it’s not uncommon to encounter them in this sector of the Rim.”

Tarkin nodded and motioned toward the hangar. “The droids?”

The specialist turned to face the viewports. “Relatively few modifications to the vulture. Same fuel slug propulsion, same weapons system. Alphanumeric identification indicates that this one belonged to a Confederacy battle group known as The Grievous Legion.”

“And also managed to find its way onto the black market …”

“So it appears, sir.”

Tarkin moved farther down the partition. “And the tri-fighters?”

“Unremarkable. But we’ve no evidence regarding their origin. Not yet anyway.”

Tarkin forced an exhalation through his nose. “Were you able to retrieve data regarding the warship’s point of origin?”

The specialist shook his head. “Negative, sir. The memory modules of the droids don’t log jump information.”

“All right,” Tarkin said after a moment. “Continue with the analysis. I want every weld and rivet investigated.”

“We’re on top of it, sir.” The tech pulled the hood back over his head, slipped his hands into the long gloves, and disappeared through the lock.

Tarkin watched him enter the hangar, then resumed pacing, replaying the attack in his mind.

Harassment of Imperial installations by pirates and malcontents was nothing new, but in almost all cases the assaults had been hit-and-run sorties, and none had taken place so close to heavily defended Geonosis. The counterfeit real-time holotransmission had been designed to draw ships from Sentinel to Rampart Station, in the hope of leaving the former vulnerable. But the attack was clearly calculated to be suicidal from its inception. Even if he had dispatched the Electrum to the marshaling station — even if he had been taken in by the distress call and dispatched half his flotilla — the energy shields and laser ca

Equally worrisome was the question of how the counterfeiters had known about Lieutenant Thon, whose recent posting to Rampart should have been top secret. The creators of the false holovid had been able to improvise by transmitting a real-time hologram of the young officer in response to Tarkin’s order that he show himself. Was Thon involved in the conspiracy, or had the attackers merely doctored existing footage of him, lifted perhaps from the public HoloNet or some other source?

As troubling as it was to accept that the locations of Sentinel and Rampart bases had been compromised, he still couldn’t make sense of the attack itself. What would pirates or privateers stand to gain by launching an ill-fated drone attack? What, for that matter, would political dissidents stand to gain?

Was it a case of vengeance?

One group fit the bill: the Droid Gotra, a lethal band of repurposed battle droids with what some considered legitimate grievances against the Empire for having been abandoned after their service during the Clone Wars. But recent intelligence reports stated that the Droid Gotra was still confined to an industrial complex in the bowels of Coruscant, serving as muscle for the Crymorah crime syndicate in robberies, protection, kidnapping, illegal salvage, and extortion. It was possible that the Gotra was branching out — it was even possible that the group had learned about Sentinel Base — but it was unlikely that the droids would make use of obsolete weapons to send a message to the Empire.