Star Wars: The Old Republic: Annihilation

by Drew Karpyshyn

  “We were afraid of you,” Gnost-Dural said, feeding her ego. “The Republic is setting an ambush at Duro. But we can’t spare enough ships to bring down the Spear. You would turn the battle against us.”

  “My ship was never part of the fleet heading to Duro,” Karrid said, and he heard the suspicion in her voice.

  “You are on the Dark Council. You choose your own path,” Gnost-Dural explained, remembering how headstrong she had been as his Padawan as he played even further to her pride. “We feared you would defy the will of the Minister of War and come to Duro to claim your share of the glory.”

  “Then why are you telling me this now?” Karrid asks. “Are you hoping I will show you mercy?”

  Gnost-Dural tried to laugh, but all that came out was a hollow, haunted rasping of breath.

  “My plan worked,” he said, offering the final piece of bait. “It’s too late. We’re too far away. You’ll never get to Duro in time for the battle.”

  Now it was Karrid’s turn to laugh.

  “You’re wrong, Master,” she sneered. “You have no idea how fast my ship really is. When the Republic spring their trap at Duro, we will be there!”

  Karrid stood up and headed for the door.

  “Watch him,” she said. “No more torture. I want him alive and sane so he can witness our destruction of Duro and the Republic fleet.”

  “Should we send a message to warn Moff Nezzor about the ambush?” her apprentice asked.

  “The Republic has broken the cipher codes,” Karrid snapped. “Sending the message now will only let them know we’re coming. They might even abandon their plan. Better to sacrifice a few of our own ships than to let the Republic fleet escape.”

  “Forgive me, Master,” the apprentice replied. “There is so much I still have to learn.”

  “Tell Moff Lorman to set a course for Duro, maximum speed,” she ordered before leaving the room.

  I’ve done all I can, Theron, the old Jedi thought. Now it’s up to you.

  Deep in the bowels of the engine room Theron finally heard the orders he’d been waiting for coming from the bridge.

  “Set a course for Duro.”

  A klaxon rang out three times across the ship, the signal for the crew to prepare for the jump to hyperspace. A moment later the hyperdrive core began to howl as it ramped up to full power.

  He did it! Somehow, Master Gnost-Dural did it!

  Theron redoubled his efforts, knowing he had to finish mapping the relays if the ambush was going to stand any chance of taking down the Ascendant Spear … assuming there actually was an ambush.

  Gnost-Dural had done his job, and Theron was busy doing his. But none of it would matter if Teff’ith and Satele couldn’t convince Jace to send a Republic fleet to Duro.

  CHAPTER 29

  “NO!” JACE SAID, slamming his fist down on the back of the couch he was standing by. “This is insane!”

  Satele’s call had woken him in the middle of the night. When she told him she was coming over right away to see him, he’d still been too bleary from the shots he’d shared with Marcus earlier to ask any questions or protest. Not that he would have refused her request. He and Satele had spoken many times since she’d ended their relationship—given their respective roles in the Republic and the Jedi Order it was inevitable. But their meetings had always been official, held in offices or meeting rooms. She’d never come to his apartment before, so he knew whatever business she had was urgent; the Grand Master of the Jedi Order was not a woman prone to overreaction.

  By the time she’d showed up at his door, Jace’s mind was right enough to guess what this was about—somehow she’d found out about Theron, the Spear, and the impending attack on Duro that was now less than ten hours away. He expected she would try to talk him out of his plan. What he hadn’t expected was the scruffy-looking Twi’lek street thug who accompanied the Grand Master, nor the wild story she told.

  “Do you know how many laws and regulations Theron violated by roping you into this?” he shouted at her.

  Satele and the Twi’lek were standing side by side in the middle of his living room, a united front opposing him.

  “Theron could be court-martialed,” Jace continued, stepping around from behind the couch and moving toward them as his voice got louder and louder. “Arrested. This is bordering on treason!”

  “You shout at him, not me!” Teff’ith snapped back, holding her ground and refusing to be intimidated by his bluster.

  “None of that matters now,” Satele told him. “Theron and Master Gnost-Dural will bring the Ascendant Spear to Duro. You need to be there waiting for them.”

  “You don’t know that,” Jace said. “You just met this Twi’lek. For all we know, she’s an Imperial agent leading us into some kind of trap.”

  “I can sense the truth in her words,” Satele assured him.

  Jace snorted. “And you couldn’t possibly be wrong, because no Jedi in history has ever been betrayed by someone close to them. You Jedi may see more than the rest of us, but you don’t see nearly as much as you think.”

  “Sometimes we are blind when it comes to those close to us,” Satele admitted. “But I’m right about this,” she added with the resolute calm Jace had found so infuriating when they were together. “We can trust Teff’ith.”

  “Even if she’s on our side, we still don’t know if the Spear will actually show up at Duro. She can’t even tell us what Theron and Gnost-Dural were planning.”

  “Was no plan,” Teff’ith explained. “Making it up as they go.”

  “That’s even worse!” Jace shouted, turning away from them to stalk around the living room. “You can’t just improvise your way through something like this.”

  “Don’t underestimate Master Gnost-Dural,” Satele cautioned. “Darth Karrid was his apprentice for many years. He knows her mind and personality better than she does.”

  “Then why didn’t he know she was going to defect to the Sith?” Jace challenged.

  “We knew the risk. But we decided it was worth it to get someone close to Malgus,” Satele said. “Gnost-Dural will find a way to make Darth Karrid bring the Spear to Duro.”

  “I wish I had your confidence,” Jace said, shaking his head. “But even if he does get her to send the Spear, we can’t face it at full power. Theron was supposed to sabotage the ship, but we have no idea what he’s done. Even if he manages to plant the virus in the Spear’s systems, we don’t have any way to activate it without knowing what frequency to transmit the code on.”

  “Theron will find a way,” Satele assured him. “Maybe he’ll trigger the virus himself.”

  “And maybe he won’t. If I send a fleet to Duro and the Spear shows up at full power, we’ll be slaughtered along with the civilians on the planet.”

  “Send two fleets!” Teff’ith blurted. “Send five. Send ten! Even the Spear can’t win then.”

  “We don’t have enough ships in the sector,” Jace said. “And even if we did, sending orders to have everyone converge on Duro at the same time would tip the Empire off. They’d know we were there, and they’d call off the attack.”

  “At least Duro would be spared,” Satele chimed in.

  “Duro is irrelevant,” Jace said. “This is about stopping the Spear. It’s about winning the war.”

  “The Republic doesn’t win if we don’t protect our people,” Satele told him. “We are not the Empire. You used to understand the difference.”

  Jace bristled at her words. “Is that why you left me? Is that why you didn’t tell me Theron was our son?”

  He heard a slight gasp from Teff’ith as she reacted to the revelation, but he ignored the Twi’lek, his attention focused on Grand Master Shan.

  “I saw the war change you,” Satele said. “I saw you heading down a path I could not follow. I tried to help you, but I realized I was only being dragged down with you.”

  “So you abandoned me.”

  “I thought our feelings for each other were making thing
s worse. I was afraid if you knew you had a son, your desire to protect him at any cost would take you even farther down that dark path.”

  “Is that how you really see me?” Jace asked. “As some kind of monster?”

  Satele shook her head.

  “I do not always agree with your decisions, but I know you are a good man. Hate and anger are part of you, but they have not consumed you.”

  The Jedi sighed. “I used to believe that was because of what I had done. Turning away from you, hiding your son from you—I used to tell myself these actions saved you from yourself.”

  “And what do you think now?”

  Satele hesitated, her eyes shifting to the floor momentarily as if she couldn’t bear to meet Jace’s gaze.

  Is she ashamed? Jace wondered.

  “Now I do not know,” she said.

  She looked up at him again, struggling to maintain the reserve appropriate for a Jedi Grand Master. But Jace knew her well enough to see what was beneath her stoic mask: regret, uncertainty, self-doubt.

  “Maybe I was wrong to hide Theron from you. Maybe I made things worse.”

  There was a long silence, finally broken by Teff’ith. “Jedi Grand Master mom, Supreme Commander dad. Now we get why Theron’s so messed up. So you sending a fleet, or what?”

  When Jace didn’t answer, Satele spoke up.

  “You can’t let Duro be sacked,” she told him. “I know you, Jace. You’ll never be able to live with yourself. It will destroy you.”

  “It’s worth it if holding back our fleet means we still have a chance to take down the Spear,” he said stubbornly.

  “If you send the fleet and the Ascendant Spear isn’t there, you save Duro,” Satele said, trying to reason with him. “If you don’t send a fleet, and Karrid is there, then you lose both Duro and your best chance of taking down the Spear.”

  “Easy choice,” Teff’ith agreed.

  “You’re forgetting the third option,” Jace told them. “We send a fleet, the Spear is there, but Theron fails in his mission. Then we lose everything—our chance at the Spear, Duro, and our fleet. You’re asking me to risk all this on blind faith that Theron will succeed. The Supreme Commander doesn’t have the luxury of blind faith.”

  “It’s not blind faith,” Satele assured him. “It’s faith in Theron. Faith in our son.”

  Jace stared down at the floor, clenching and unclenching his hands. He knew what he wanted to do, but this was the most important decision he’d ever make. He couldn’t afford to be wrong.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve had some kind of vision?” he said to Satele. “Something telling us what we should do?”

  “The Force has not shown me what will happen,” Satele admitted. “The future is always in motion.”

  “Could’ve just lied,” Teff’ith mumbled.

  “Trust your heart,” Satele told him.

  “Not a very Jedi thing to say,” Jace said.

  “You’re not a Jedi,” she reminded him.

  The Supreme Commander took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. He’d been fighting the Sith for forty years: fighting for the Republic, fighting for the men and women who went into battle beside him, fighting for the future of the entire galaxy. But now that he knew he had a son, he had something else worth fighting for. Theron was counting on him, and he wasn’t going to let him down.

  “I’ll send the fleet,” he said. “Now get out of my apartment so I can change—I need to be on my flagship within the hour or we won’t get there in time.”

  “You leading the fleet?” Teff’ith asked, clearly surprised.

  “If Darth Karrid doesn’t show, then Chancellor Saresh is going to demand my resignation for botching this mission anyway. Might as well go out in a blaze of glory.”

  “I’m coming, too,” Satele declared.

  “Forget it,” Jace replied. “We’re not risking both the Supreme Commander and the Grand Master of the Jedi Order on the same mission.”

  “We serve the Republic,” she reminded him, “and this mission is critical to the war effort. If there’s even a chance I could help, I need to be there.

  “And the Order is strong enough to survive my loss if something happens,” she assured him. “Just as the military can survive yours.”

  “Good luck,” Teff’ith said.

  “You’re coming, too,” Jace told her.

  “What? Why us?”

  “I’m risking everything on your story, but I’m still the Supreme Commander of the Republic military. I still have responsibilities. If it turns out you’re actually an Imperial spy setting us up, letting you go would make things even worse. So I’m not letting you out of my sight until all this is over, just in case.”

  “Theron better mess up the Spear real good,” Teff’ith grumbled. “Don’t wanna get blown to bits.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Jace agreed.

  The howling of the hyperdrive made it hard to concentrate, but Theron was still able to tap into the Spear’s navigation systems to get a sense of where they were. At first he thought there was no way they’d get to Duro in time, but the ship was moving at speeds he was having trouble believing. He checked and double-checked the data, wondering if there was an error somewhere. He’d studied the hyperdrive systems, and it shouldn’t have been possible for them to be moving this fast. Not without some external power source boosting the system.

  Darth Karrid.

  Tracking their progress backward, he realized the ship’s velocity had jumped when the systems for her personal command pod engaged. The engines were actually drawing more power from her, the symbiotic link between Sith and ship channeling dark side energies through Karrid to augment the Spear’s abilities.

  With a sinking feeling he realized that even with all the time he’d spent mapping the networks and studying the ship, he still didn’t have any real concept of the Ascendant Spear’s full potential. Darth Karrid’s ship might be too formidable a foe for the Republic fleet. Theron hoped the Republic’s chance for victory wasn’t already lost.

  CHAPTER 30

  ENCASED WITHIN THE CRYSTAL SPHERE of her command pod, Darth Karrid could feel the power of the Ascendant Spear coursing through the wires attached to the implants in her neck, face, and skull. The wires twitched and twisted like they were alive, pulsing with energy and matching the rhythm of her racing heart as it sent blood rushing through her veins.

  Her excitement was more than the anticipation of the coming battle. Guiding the ship through the extra-dimensional landscape of hyperspace was exhilarating, a thrill beyond any other mental or physical pleasure. She had transcended her shell of flesh and bone, becoming one with the Ascendant Spear as planets and stars flew past her on all sides, sensed rather than seen, vanishing from her awareness in seconds as they were left trillions of kilometers behind her.

  She could feel the presence of her apprentice and his two new companions outside the confines of the pod as she fed off them to enhance and augment her connection to the dark side … and to the ship. Yet she realized that, eager as she was to get to Duro, she had to pace herself. Her second apprentice was still watching guard over Gnost-Dural, and though Lord Quux and Lord Ordez were strong, they were still not used to the unique strain of supporting her while she controlled the Spear. She had to be careful not to exhaust them before the battle.

  The ship slowed ever so slightly in response to her unspoken directive, allowing her to conserve her strength as they continued to hurtle to their destination.

  Moff Nezzor, commander of the Imperial capital ship Extempus, relished the moments before leading his fleet into battle. The attack on the agriworld Ruan had been a glorious victory, but it would pale compared with the devastation he planned to unleash against Duro.

  As with the previous attack on an unsuspecting, lightly defended Republic world, the plan was elegant in its simplicity. Hit the Duro shipyards to cripple production, bombard the orbiting cities to inflict maximum damage and casualties, then retreat before
Republic reinforcements in the sector could respond to the threat.

  Nezzor approved of this recent shift in Imperial tactics. While some—like Davidge, the prissy Minister of Logistics—might argue that the Empire gained little tangible benefit from an attack on Duro, the Grand Moff understood the psychological value of striking soft targets with the primary purpose of massacre and mayhem. And personally, he much preferred an unopposed run against a heavily populated civilian world to a lengthy engagement against Republic defenders over a resource-rich planet with high long-term strategic value.

  “Two minutes to Duro, Moff Nezzor,” the navigator seated on the other side of the bridge informed him.

  “Ready a general comm channel,” Nezzor commanded, eager to begin issuing orders to direct his fleet’s assault the instant they dropped from hyperspace.

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  A smile crept across Nezzor’s thin, cracked lips.

  He felt the familiar surge of deceleration, and the starfield outside the bridge’s viewing window transformed from solid white to the starfield of realspace. They arrived on the edges of the Duro system, far enough from the sun’s gravity well but still only a few minutes from the world itself. But instead of seeing the eponymous planet and its orbiting cities in the distance, helpless and at their mercy, Moff Nezzor found himself facing an entire Republic fleet stretched out before him, arrayed for battle.

  Impossible! he thought, shouting out “Full shields!” even as the enemy opened fire.

  Jace Malcom kept his eyes carefully focused on the battle monitors on board the bridge of the Aegis in the moments before the battle began.

  From the intercepted cipher transmissions, he knew the Empire was sending a fleet designed for a cowardly hit-and-run assault: Moff Nezzor’s capital ship Extempus, a Delta-class carrier with a full complement of two dozen Interceptors, two Dreadnoughts, and three destroyers.

  On the Republic side, Jace had called in all military vessels in the sector: three capital ships, including the Aegis, four Hammerheads, six corvettes, and four support squads of eight Thunderclap fighters. The Empire was outgunned by a greater than three-to-one margin, but Jace wasn’t taking any chances. If the Ascendant Spear was with them the Empire had the edge.