Doriana was still fumbling with his tunic belt as he hurried through the open blast doors onto the bridge. “What’s this about an attack?” he asked as he crossed the walkways to where Kav stood in front of his command chair.
“Soothe yourself, Commander Stratis,” Kav said. “It is not as serious as was first thought.”
“This is Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet,” a voice said from the comm speaker beside the vicelord’s chair. “Please identify, yourselves and state your intentions.”
“He has been repeating that message for ten minutes,”
Kav said contemptuously. “But then, what else can he do?”
“Explain,” Doriana growled. After being hauled out of bed, he was in no mood to put up with Neimoidian smugness.
“You can start by telling me who he is.”
“How should I know?” Kav said scornfully. “But he is a braggart beyond anything I have yet seen.”
He seated himself in his chair and touched a control, and a tactical overlay appeared on the main display. “Behold,” he said, waving his long fingers. “He dares to threaten us with three small cruisers and nine fighters. Most likely they are pirates with a sense of bluff as large as a Dug’s pride.”
The message repeated. “I hear no threat in thatmessage, Vicelord,” Doriana pointed out, trying to suppress his growing annoyance. He’d been dragged out of bed for this? “All I hear is a local asking what we’re doing in his territory.”
“The threat is implied, Commander Stratis,” Kav countered. “It is built into all warships, as much a part of them as weapons and shields.”
Doriana looked at the tactical, then at the corresponding telescope display. Even knowing where the ships were, it was incredibly hard to pick them out of the starfield behind them. Superb stealthing, which meant that Kav was right. They were warships, all right. “Maybe he’s got more firepower hanging back in reserve.”
“No,” Kav assured him. “We have done a complete sensor scan of the entire area. Those twelve ships are all there are.”
“This is Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo—”
“Shall we consider this an unscheduled drill?” Kav added as the message continued to play in the background.
“Let’s try talking first,” Doriana suggested, sitting down on the couch beside the other. The fact that this Mitth’raw’nuruodo spoke Basic might very well mean he was a pirate with some familiarity with some of the outer reaches of the Republic.
But it could also mean this was a trick by person or persons unknown to smoke out the truth about the Darkvenge‘s mission. “Open a hailing channel,” he ordered.
“Open.”
Doriana reached over to Kav’s station and keyed the control. “I greet you, Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” he said, stumbling a bit over the unusual glottals at the section breaks.
“This is Stratis, commanding Special Task Force One.”
“My greetings in return, Commander Stratis,”
Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s voice came back. “Please explain to me the purpose of your task force.”
“We intend no harm to you or your people,” Doriana said. “But I’m afraid the details of our mission must remain confidential.”
“I’m afraid in turn that your reassurances are insufficient,” Mitth’raw’nuruodo said.
Beside Doriana, Kav muttered something. “I’m sorry, Commander,” Doriana said, throwing a warning look at the Neimoidian. “Unfortunately, I’m under orders.”
“Why do you waste time this way?” Kav demanded.
Cursing under his breath, Doriana lunged for the mute control. “With all due respect, Vicelord, what do you think you’re doing?”
“What do you think you are doing?” Kav countered.
“They are no more than a parasite fly fluttering against a window. Let us destroy them and be done with it.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d first like to find out who they are and where they come from,” Doriana said, summoning every bit of patience he could muster.
“We can learn that from their charred remains,” Kav said, drawing himself up to his fill height. “And you are not in command of this fleet, Stratis. I am.”
“Yes, of course,” Doriana said, shifting quickly to a more soothing tone.
But it was too late. The vicelord had decided to take offense at the unintentional slight, and had also concluded this was a quick and easy victory ripe for the plucking. With a Neimoidian, that was a bad combination. “The time for talk is over,” Kav announced. With a decisive jab of his finger, he cut off the comm channel. “Order the Keeper to launch half its droid starfighters,” he called across the bridge, gesturing toward thesecond Trade Federation battleship. “Three groups will attack the intruders, the rest forming a defense screen around the task force. And order a transfer of command; I will control all the starfighters from here.”
“Yes, Vicelord,” one of the Neimoidians said. “Do we launch our starfighters, as well?”
“We will hold them in reserve.” Kav looked at Doriana.
“In case they have reinforcements on the way,” he added almost grudgingly.
Doriana sighed silently to himself. He would have liked to find out more about this Mitth’raw’nuruodo and his Chiss before they were slaughtered. He could only hope there would be enough wreckage left to examine.
“Here they come,” Car’das said, pointing at the display.
“Droid starfighters—you see them?”
“Yes, of course,” Thrawn said calmly. “All vessels, pull back. Car’das, you said droids can think and act on their own. Do these droid starfighters also have that capability?”
“I don’t think so,” Car’das said, trying to unfreeze his mind and think as the Springhawk began moving backward.
The sight of this many incoming Trade Federation starfighters was enough to rattle anyone. “No, I’m sure they don’t. They’re remotely controlled in groups from one of the battleships.”
“Comm?” Thrawn called. “Have you located and identified their control frequencies?”
“Yes, Commander,” the comm officer reported. “The control appears to be secured with a rolling encryption system. I estimate maximum range to be ten thousand visvia.”
“Pull us back to eleven thousand,” Thrawn ordered, turning back to Car’das. “Ten thousand visvia is approximately sixteen thousand of your kilometers. Does that sound like the correct operating range?”
Car’das spread his hands helplessly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
“No apologies needed,” Thrawn assured him. “At any rate, we’ll know soon enough.”
“Enemy fighters still approaching,” one of the crewers warned. “Main group is holding back.”
“Interesting,” Thrawn said thoughtfully. “The main body appears to be forming a defensive screen around the larger vessels. Considering his numerical advantage, this Commander Stratis seems unusually cautious.”
“That’s typical of the Neimoidians who build and run these things,” Car’das told him, feeling a frown creasing his forehead. Now that he thought about it, though, Stratis’s voice had sounded human, not Neimoidian. Could the Trade Federation have started selling or leasing their battleships?
“Attackers pulling back,” the sensor officer called.
“Reforming into an outer screen between us and the fleet.”
“Apparently, we were correct about the ten-thousandvisvia range,” Thrawn concluded. “Excellent.”
“So what do we do now?” Car’das asked, eyeing the swarming starfighters uneasily.
For a moment Thrawn sat silently, his eyes narrowed as he gazed at the displays. “We try an experiment,” he said at last. “Whirlwind: move to deployment position. Fighter Four: probe attack, course one-one-five by three-eight-one.”
There were two acknowledgments, and Car’das watched as one of the other two Springhawk-size ships broke away from the group, heading to starboard, while one of the nine fighters headed off the opposite direction. “What kind of experiment?” he asked.
“With so many fighters to control, I suspect the system designers didn’t have room to be overly clever,” Thrawn said.
“Let’s see just how clever they were.”
“Incoming!” one of the Neimoidians in the control pits called sharply. “Single fighter, vector zero-four-two by zero eight-eight.”