“No,” Ayddar said stubbornly. He tried to look beyond the droid into the house, but all he saw was the inner door of the security lock. “Not acceptable. I have to see him personally. I can’t take the chance that this information won’t be brought to his attention.”
“Mr. Nylykerka, Admiral Ackbar is resting. He is not available to see you,” the droid said implacably. “Now, will you leave, or do I need to signal the guard?”
Hugging the datapad to his chest, Ayddar squinted angrily at the droid. “Very well,” he said finally. “I’ll go.”
“Thank you, Mr. Nylykerka,” said the droid. It waited until Ayddar had turned and taken his first steps down the path before closing the door.
The moment the door closed, however, Ayddar wheeled around on the path and ran past the entrance toward the shore. Gritting his teeth and cringing, he waded clumsily out into the water, splashing wildly. Alarms began to sound, and a brilliant bank of lights on the underside of the skywalk suddenly cut short the twilight. With an animal cry, Ayddar flung himself headlong into the waist-deep water and began to thrash his way toward the lake cylinder in a wretched imitation of swimming.
His simple and single-minded impulse had been to pound on the lake-level viewpanes to get Ackbar’s attention. But as he got closer, he saw that the cylinder was an aquahab, filled with water nearly to the level of the skywalk.
A security airspeeder swooped low overhead, and an amplified voice bellowed orders at him. “Attention, intruder—this is your only warning. You are trespassing on government property. Antipersonnel blasters are aimed at you. Stop where you are, and you will not be fired on. If you do not surrender, you will be shot.”
Panicked, Ayddar raised his arms. When he did, his fragile grasp of swimming abruptly ended, and he slid below the surface. Before he realized what was happening, he found himself mired hand and foot in a layer of muck on the bottom, unable to push off and free himself to return to the surface.
A ring of lamps around the base of the aquahab flooded the dark waters with light. For the first time Ayddar could see that there was an underwater entrance to the cylinder. He fought his way along the bottom to it, reached up with his free hand, and squeezed the Open lever.
Nothing happened.
In final desperation, with the sound of a jetboat’s engines surrounding him and quickly growing louder, Ayddar reached up and swung the datapad against the hatch. It seemed to move in slow motion and to make hardly any sound when it struck.
But to Ayddar’s surprise, the hatch slid open. A blur in the water grasped him firmly by the front of his shirt and dragged him inside with an ease that spoke of impressive strength. Moments later Ayddar found himself breaking the surface at the top of the aquahab. Gasping noisily, he grabbed wildly for the edge. Only when his fingertips had found precarious purchase there did Ayddar realize that he no longer had the datapad.
He looked around wildly and found Admiral Ackbar watching him. The Calamari glided easily through the water on the far side of the pool, making barely a ripple.
“You are Tammarian, are you not?” Ackbar said.
Ayddar was shaking uncontrollably as he clung to the edge of the walkway surrounding the water. “Yes, Ad-Admiral.”
“I have heard that Tammar has an unusually thin atmosphere for an inhabited world,” said Ackbar casually.
“That is t-true, Admiral.”
“I have heard,” the admiral went on, “that as a consequence your people evolved a sort of chemical pouch where you store oxygen while at rest.”
“Yes,” Ayddar said through chattering lips. “The chaghizs torm. It al-allows us to expend en-en-energy faster, for—for a short time, than res-respiration alone would al-allow.”
“I am told,” said Ackbar, “that this is why your people can free-live in vacuum for short periods of time.”
Feeling nauseous, Ayddar closed his eyes and rested his head on his arms. “Yes,” he said, his voice small and muffled.
“I have also heard,” said the Calamari, gliding nearby, “that your planet is wholly without surface water, and that your people’s most powerful fears have come to involve being immersed in standing water.”
Ayddar nodded weakly.
“I confess that such fears are completely alien to me,” said Ackbar. “Yet you willingly entered the lake in an effort to see me.”
“Y-Yes, Admiral. I thought it was my d-duty.”
Effortlessly, the big Calamari eased himself out of the water and onto the ledge. Ayddar saw that he held the datapad securely in one big hand.
“Well,” Ackbar said, extending his empty hand to Ayddar, “I find I am not resting any longer. So perhaps you will come to my study with me and tell me what news has inspired such reckless devotion to duty.”
The track outside the officers’ gymnasium at Fleet Headquarters wound its way for a kilometer over hilly, wooded ground. Secured, shielded, and privacy-screened, it had been used many times for discreet, deniable meetings—not least by the man for whom Admiral Ackbar waited in the cool morning air.
Ackbar stood at the edge of the line of trees, a few strides from the cinder track, and looked back toward the rising sun as a solitary runner crested a small rise. As the runner drew near, Ackbar stepped out from the trees. “I see you are a still a creature of habit, Hiram,” he said with cheerful gruffness.
Admiral Hiram Drayson slowed from his brisk jog to a walk. “I see you’re still as slothful as ever. It’s been a long time since you’ve been in the gym.”
“I do not much enjoy coming here, but sometimes I have no choice,” Ackbar said, falling in beside Drayson. “Will you take pity and walk with me a while?”
“I think I can accommodate myself to your pace,” said Drayson. “What’s new?”
“I had a visit last night from the senior analyst of Asset Tracking,” said Ackbar.
“Indeed.”
“So—you have already heard.”
“I heard there was a disturbance at your residence—nothing more.”
“I will choose to believe that,” Ackbar said. “Ayddar has uncovered something which concerns me, and about which I would like your counsel. But I did not want to be seen coming to your office, or allow this to be placed on the Fleet net.”
“Go on.”
Even at their modest pace, Ackbar was beginning to pant. “Ayddar has been studying the Imperial order of battle taken from the Gnisnal a month ago. He has found a discrepancy.”
“Another Katana?”
“Nothing so large or clear-cut,” Ackbar said. “What the young man has discovered is this: There are an unusual number of vessels assigned to the Empire’s Black Sword Command which we cannot account for.”
“Black Sword Command defended the center of the Empire’s Rim territories,” Drayson noted. “Praxlis, Corridan, the entire Kokash and Farlax sectors.”
“Yes,” Ackbar said, nearly gasping for breath. He placed a hand on Drayson’s shoulder and turned him. “Please—may we stop?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you,” said Ackbar, his neck and upper chest heaving. “I apologize. The older I get, the harder it is for me to keep my lungs wet in air.”
“Apology not necessary. You were saying—”
“Yes, of course.” Ackbar glanced up and down the track, then dropped his voice. “According to Ayddar, the order of battle for Black Sword includes forty-four capital ships which we have not seen nor heard of since the fall of the Emperor. None smaller than a Victory-class Star Destroyer. Three are Super-class vessels.”
Drayson whistled. “What do you think of his analysis?”
“I find it indisputable.”
“You know that that’s more than enough firepower to overwhelm any planetary system in the New Republic,” said Drayson. “Coruscant included.”
“Yes,” said Ackbar. “If those ships still exist, they would represent a serious threat.”
“If?”
“If,” Ackbar repeated. “Yo
u see, there are many wrinkles to this matter. All but five of the forty-four were either newly laid keels or in a yard somewhere for refit or major repairs.”
“Which yards?”
“Ayddar cannot say. The names given are either not known to us, or are unknown code names for places we do know.”
“Or they may not exist at all—the yards or the ships,” said Drayson. “Don’t rule out the possibility that the order of battle is padded with paper assets. If neither Daala nor Thrawn could lay hands on these ships to throw at us—”
“That is a consideration.”
Drayson frowned. “What are the chances that some or all of them were simply renamed, and we have seen them since? We’ve certainly known Imperial Command to play that game.”
“Ayddar tells me that, at most, that could account for five of the missing vessels.”
“Which would still leave a substantial force unaccounted for,” mused Drayson. “How long after the destruction of the Gnisnal did the Black Sword Command withdraw from the Rim?”
“Less than a year.”
“Long enough for at least some of those vessels to have been completed or repaired,” said Drayson.
“More than half, if the projected commissioning dates in the order of battle were met.”
“So the Empire may have taken upwards of twenty more ships than we knew back with them to the Deep Core.”
“Yes. But there’s another possibility, which concerns me rather more,” said Ackbar. “The Empire preferred to establish military shipyards in every sector they controlled, so that no one facility was critical to the war effort, and damaged ships did not need to travel far for repairs—”
“Which would suggest that those unidentified yards were likely located somewhere in Black Sword Command’s patrol area.”
“Which would mean that as many as twenty Star Destroyers could be very much closer to us than the Core.”
Drayson squinted at Ackbar. “Ordinarily, I’d expect the Empire to destroy any assets they couldn’t take with them.”
“I would be happy to know that they had done so,” said Ackbar. “But we haven’t found any ruined shipyards in that area. Though that is not conclusive—there are large areas of Kokash and Farlax which have never been properly surveyed. Including the Morath Nebula and the Koornacht Cluster.”
“Ah,” said Drayson. “I see where this is leading.”
“Hiram, I don’t want to know how you might know the answers. But I know you have resources not available outside your office. I am concerned by this business with Nil Spaar. Negotiations have been at a standstill for weeks, and yet Leia still urges patience. And I wonder to myself, could the Yevetha be hiding these ships for Daala? Is it possible the Duskhan League is still allied with the Core?”
After a moment’s measured consideration, Drayson said, “I have no information to support such a thesis. Or to rule it out.”
“Then I am at a loss as to how to proceed,” Ackbar said. “The negotiations in progress make this a delicate matter. I cannot make accusations without evidence. Nor can I ignore a potential threat of this magnitude.”
“What would you do if the decision were yours?”
“I would begin a search for this Black Fleet, and not stop until we have found it, or its wreckage, and made certain it is not sitting on our doorstep. We must know the fate of these ships.”
Drayson nodded thoughtfully. “Then I think you should take Ayddar’s information to Princess Leia, and make that recommendation. Perhaps she’ll allow you to persuade her.”
“I fear otherwise,” said Ackbar. “Still, I can but try.”
“I wish you success. In the meantime—can you see your way to—”
Ackbar pressed a datacard into Drayson’s hand. “The list of the missing ships, and the mystery shipyards.”
Two other runners were in sight now and drawing nearer. With a perfectly practiced casualness, Drayson made the datacard disappear into a pocket. “I’ll do what I can,” he said, and flashed a stage smile. “Nice seeing you again, Admiral.”
At the pace at which Drayson then struck out down the track, Ackbar doubted that any other runner would head him.
Chapter Eight
“Let me make sure I understand,” said Princess Leia, turning away from the broad windows of the executive conference room to face Admiral Ackbar and General A’baht. “No one has seen any of these vessels for ten years—and that’s why you’re worried about them?”
Ackbar and A’baht exchanged looks, negotiating who would answer.
“Essentially, that is correct—” said Ackbar, who lost.
“Why doesn’t it sound as silly to you as it does to me? I believe you’re worried about literally nothing.”
Ackbar cleared his throat. “Princess, you know the price of being wrong. It can be a fatal error to underestimate an enemy’s strength, or the seriousness of a threat. Our own success against the Empire owed much to the Emperor’s making exactly that error.”
“Better to take precautions that aren’t needed than to fail to take them when they are,” A’baht said, almost to himself.
“No one is going to attack the New Republic,” Leia said flatly.
Both Ackbar and A’baht were taken aback by her pronouncement. “If you’re so sure of that, then let’s mothball the Fleet and muster out the troops,” A’baht said scornfully. “I’m sure we all have better things we could be doing.”
“General, it’s because of the Fleet that no one’s going to attack us,” said Leia. “Ackbar tells me we can now call on more ships than fought on both sides in the largest battle of the Rebellion. Do I have that right, Admiral?”
Ackbar nodded silently.
“That’s more than enough to bloody the nose of anyone who makes the mistake of taking a swing at us. And everyone out there knows it,” she said. “They have more to gain by joining us than they do by opposing us. Look at the Duskhan League—they clearly represent a first-order civilization, economically and technologically. What are they doing? They’re here negotiating with us.”
The general remained undeterred. “To take your metaphor, Princess, one swing can both start and end a fight if it comes without warning.”
“Are we suddenly more vulnerable to surprise attack than we were a week ago?”
“No, Princess—”
“Then are you telling me that we’ve always been vulnerable to a surprise attack?”
“I’m telling you that there’s more to being ready to defend yourself than posting sentries at the border,” said A’baht, a touch of impatience in his tone. “You must plan, and you must train, for the battle you don’t want to fight, against the enemy you don’t want to face, on the ground you don’t want to defend. Then, and only then, do you have a credible deterrent.”
She turned quickly to face Ackbar. “And haven’t you done that, Admiral? Haven’t you seen to it that our forces are thoroughly trained and thoughtfully deployed? If not, I’m afraid I may have to fire you.”
“Yes, we have done those things, Princess—”
“Then will you explain to General A’baht—”
“—but there is more to consider,” Ackbar said forcefully. “If this Black Fleet exists, and if it is operational, it represents a secret weapon. And it is the nature of secret weapons to upset all the careful planning of one’s adversaries. Indeed, Princess, that is their purpose.”
Leia looked down and studied the list displayed on her datapad, then shook her head. “Do these ships really represent a threat on that scale?”
“Yes,” A’baht said firmly. “The Empire’s standard Sector Group strength was only twenty-four Star Destroyers. They were able to exercise control over an entire system with a single Imperial-class ship. They were able to overwhelm anything up to a Class Four planetary defense with one-third of a Sector Group.”
Closing her datapad, Leia studied A’baht next. “But those were the Empire’s best, and fully equipped with the Empire’s best. When a c
apital warship is in the yards, does the crew ordinarily stay aboard?”
“No, of course not.”
“What about the troops, the fighters? Are they kept aboard?”
“I suspect the Princess knows better,” said A’baht. “When a ship is laid up for any significant time, its complement would normally be reassigned.”
“So—let’s say that all of these ships fell into other hands when the Empire withdrew. They’d be empty shells. They won’t have six TIE squadrons aboard. They won’t have a division of stormtroopers. They won’t have assault gunboats. They won’t have an army of AT-ATs.”
A’baht was unmoved. “The Princess is grasping at straws,” he said. “The greatest threat in this situation is that those ships never left Imperial hands, or that region of space.”
“They couldn’t have been on continuous deployment for ten years,” Leia protested.
“No,” said Ackbar. “But there are more than two hundred inhabited worlds in Hatawa and Farlax, many of which we still know little about. Some may still be friends with our enemies. And there is still the matter of the five unknown shipyards used by the Black Sword Command. No matter who owns them, I would like to know what has come off the ways in those ten years.”
Pressed from both sides, by one she knew and trusted and by another she did not know but respected, Leia relented. “I really don’t need this right now,” she said, sighing. “What exactly are you recommending?”
“Princess, the Fifth Fleet is about to sail on its show-the-flag excursion,” said A’baht. “I would suggest to you that searching for the Black Fleet would be a better use of those ships.”
“You want to take the entire Fifth into Hatawa and Farlax?”
“I would not want to find the Black Fleet with anything less at my command, Princess.”
“You realize, of course, that the Koornacht Cluster is in Farlax.”
Ackbar nodded. “Yes—of course.”
“Then you realize that you’ll have to exempt Koornacht from any search. Nil Spaar has been adamant about territorial integrity,” she said. “Their claim extends to the entire cluster. He hasn’t even agreed to grant emergency landing or pass-through rights yet. Any intrusion by Republic warships, no matter what the mission, is completely unacceptable—to him and to me.”
Before the Storm Page 14
