by Timothy Zahn
“Yes, sir,” Faro said. Her stance still holds tension, but her voice holds only confidence and resolve. “Signal Lord Vader and the Darkhawk,” she called toward the comm station. “Tell them their target is on the way.”
* * *
—
“Chimaera, acknowledged,” Kimmund called toward the bridge comm, gazing at the Darkhawk’s tactical display. The Grysk ship was headed toward the two drifting ships far ahead, riding a vector that would take them within range of the Imperials lying silent and dark directly in front of them. “Lord Vader, we have target confirmation.”
“Very well, Commander,” Vader’s voice came from the speaker. “Stand ready.”
“Standing ready,” Kimmund repeated. The Grysk ship was getting closer…overshot the mark…
And without warning the blaze of a TIE Defender’s engines flashed into view directly behind the Grysk. The fighter leapt ahead, its laser cannon blasting away at the Grysk’s own thrusters.
The Grysk was caught completely flat-footed. Vader got a double volley into the thrusters before the pilot belatedly jinked in an effort to throw off his attacker’s aim.
Too little, too late. Even as the Grysk tried to leap forward, its acceleration faltered and faded away, leaving it running on a locked vector. “Tephan?” Kimmund said.
“Ready,” the pilot confirmed. She keyed the Darkhawk’s thrusters, kicking them to full acceleration. The Grysk shot past; the Darkhawk matched its speed, then started to catch up. The distance between them shrank; Tephan again adjusted her acceleration—
And with a violent thud the Darkhawk slammed against the Grysk, bouncing once against its hatch before the grapples caught and locked the two ships together.
“Go!” Kimmund shouted. He unstrapped and bounded out of the cockpit, racing toward the hatch. He reached it just as the sizzlers went off, burning through the Grysks’ hatch and sending the warped and blackened metal spinning into the enemy ship.
It had been one of the fastest breaches Kimmund had ever launched. Even so, the Grysks were in position, pressed against walls and in recessed doorways. They opened fire, blasting at Drav and Jid as they crouched inside the partial protection of the Darkhawk’s own hatchway.
And as the blaze of blasterfire and Grysk lightning guns lit up the corridor, Kimmund spotted the slight bubble of distortion as a cloaked figure slipped from the Darkhawk and traveled, unnoticed and unhindered, down the corridor. The aliens’ defense formation began to unravel from the rear as Rukh began working his way up the lines, taking out the Grysks one by one. Nearly half of the enemy was down before those in front even noticed.
By then it was too late. Between Rukh at the rear and Drav and Jid in the front, the whole defense disintegrated.
“Rukh?” Kimmund called as he led the rest of the stormtroopers past the Grysk bodies. “Come on, Noghri—give me a direction.”
There was a flicker, and the diminutive creature reappeared. “This way,” he rumbled, gesturing with his electrostaff. “I smell Chiss this way.”
Kimmund nodded briskly. “Viq, Dorstren, take point. Rukh, hang behind them and call out directions. And keep that cloak on—if we need to throw you at them, I don’t want them to even know you’re there.”
“Understood,” Rukh said. He did something to his chest, and again vanished.
Mentally, Kimmund shook his head. Damn, but he wanted one of those. “Okay, stormtroopers, move it out,” he ordered. “Let’s show the grand admiral what the First Legion can do.”
* * *
—
The Grysk ship had been hit, disabled, and boarded. So far, Grand Admiral Thrawn’s plan had gone exactly as predicted.
Now, Faro knew, came the real test.
“Increased power emanations from Bogeys One and Two, Admiral,” Hammerly called briskly. “They’ve spotted the fight and are coming up to speed.”
“Very good,” Thrawn said. “TIE Commander: Launch fighters in designated sequence.”
“Yes, sir.”
Faro looked at the tactical. Three squadrons of TIE fighters were streaming from the Chimaera’s hangar bay now, expanding to full broadside formation and settling into three well-spaced waves. The two large Grysk ships were still coming to full combat readiness, but already they were reacting to the incoming ships, with Bogey One pulling back a bit while Bogey Two moved toward the TIEs.
A maneuver that was clearly not lost on Thrawn. “TIE Commander, all ships on Bogey Two,” he ordered. “Wave Two, open fire as soon as you’re in range.”
Faro frowned. “Wave One will be in range sooner, sir,” she pointed out quietly.
“Indeed,” Thrawn acknowledged. “I have a theory, Commodore, which I wish to test.”
The TIEs were still out of range when a pair of hatches opened on Bogey Two and two ships the size of light cruisers appeared. They formed into a staggered pair and headed for the TIEs.
“Interesting,” Thrawn murmured. “Notice, Commodore, how Bogeys Three and Four take up the same fore–back formation as the main ships themselves. Bogey Three presents itself as the main target, while Bogey Four remains slightly behind in reserve.”
“Yes, sir,” Faro said, frowning. It was an obvious formation to take, one she’d seen dozens of times. Hardly worth commenting on.
“TIEs: Target Bogey Three,” Thrawn said. “Repeat, target Bogey Three only. Second wave only, fire when ready.”
The TIEs and cruisers continued closing on each other. “What about the Defenders, sir?” Faro prompted.
“TIE Fighter Squadrons Four and Five, stand ready,” Thrawn called in answer. “Defenders, stand ready. Lord Vader?”
“I am here, Admiral,” Vader’s voice came. “I do not believe three waves of TIEs will be a match for the firepower of two light cruisers.”
“Nor do I, my lord,” Thrawn said. “TIEs: Hold your course.”
Faro took a deep breath. Thrawn was known for his efficiency, spending his troops with the care of a miser spending credits. But he was also known for his ruthlessness and his willingness to do whatever was necessary to achieve his objectives. Right now, Faro couldn’t tell which category this operation fell under. They were nearly at firing range…
The Grysks were ready. A split second before the TIEs reached range the lead cruiser opened fire, raking the front Imperial line with laserfire.
Three of the TIEs disintegrated in that opening salvo, another two staggering out of formation as each suffered the loss of a solar panel. An instant later the second line of TIEs opened up with their own laser cannons, blazing across Bogey Three as ordered, specifically targeting the cruiser’s weapons clusters. The cruiser responded with another salvo, taking out two more of the first-wave TIEs—
“Break off!” Thrawn snapped. “All TIEs: Break off and take evasive maneuvers back toward the Chimaera.”
He turned to Faro, a small but satisfied smile touching his lips. “Did you see it, Commodore?”
Faro gazed at the tactical, her stomach tightening. What was Thrawn going for? That the cruisers had superior firepower? That the TIEs had caused only minimal damage to the lead cruiser’s fighting capability? “I’m sorry, sir,” she admitted. “Apparently not.”
“All TIEs: Launch,” Thrawn ordered. “Three waves, Defenders in Wave Three. Form up with initial waves and await targeting orders.”
He got acknowledgments and turned back to Faro. “Two things, Commodore,” he said, lowering his voice. “First: The cruiser opened fire just before the TIEs reached their own range. What does that suggest?”
Faro looked again at the tactical, watching the TIEs and Defenders stream out into the battlefield. Thrawn had suggested earlier that the Grysks had been observing the Empire…“They’re familiar with TIE firing range,” she said slowly. “They therefore let the TIEs get close enough so their own weapons would have
maximum impact, but made sure they got the first volley.”
“Which means?”
“Which means that they know a great deal about Imperial weaponry,” Faro said. As he’d already suggested.
“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “And the second fact?”
The two groups of standard TIEs and Defenders had come together and were sorting themselves out as per Thrawn’s orders. “I’m sorry, sir,” Faro confessed. “I didn’t see it.”
“You saw it, Commodore,” Thrawn assured her. “Which TIEs did the cruiser target?”
Faro frowned again.
And then suddenly she had it. “The Grysks targeted the first line,” she said. “But it was the second line that was firing at them.”
“Exactly,” Thrawn said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice. “I had suspected that from our earlier encounters, but I needed confirmation. The Grysks’ cultural blind spot is that they consider the nearest enemy to be the most dangerous, and will adjust their combat strategy to accommodate that bias.”
“And we just fed into that bias by attacking only the nearest of the two cruisers,” Faro said, feeling a smile of her own touch her lips.
“Exactly,” Thrawn said again. “And so we now have two weapons to use against them.”
“Two weapons, sir?”
Thrawn looked out the forward viewport. “They think they know Imperial weaponry, Commodore,” he said with quiet satisfaction. “But they have never encountered a TIE Defender.”
* * *
—
According to the specs Sampa had shown him, Rukh’s vaunted personal invisibility cloak was supposed to last for three full minutes. In actuality—Kimmund made a point of timing it—the thing popped him back out after two minutes and twenty seconds.
And now the legion’s secret weapon was gone.
Kimmund scowled to himself as their formation continued down the maze of corridors. This ship was a lot bigger than the simple freighter they’d attacked before, with a lot more deck space and a lot more capacity for crew or passengers.
And yet to this point they hadn’t run into much opposition. Either the Grysks had been caught by surprise and were still trying to organize a proper defense, or else they were simply biding their time and luring the stormtroopers into a trap.
Kimmund was pretty sure it would turn out to be the second.
“Very near,” Rukh muttered. As Kimmund had picked up the legion’s pace, the Noghri had responded by dropping into a sort of primate-run, loping along on all fours with his electrostaff strapped across his back. It made him look even more bestial than he already did.
Ahead, a Grysk popped out from the edge of a side compartment and blasted off a shot with his lightning gun, the bolt catching Jid on his right upper chest and staggering him back. Morrtic swung her E-11 around and returned fire, but the Grysk had already ducked back out of sight. Morrtic hurried forward, only to have the hatch close in front of her. Cursing under her breath, she dug into her utility pouch.
“Belay that,” Kimmund called to her, dropping to one knee beside Jid. As satisfying as it would be to blast the door and then fry the Grysk, they didn’t have the time to spare. “Just seal it and leave him there. Jid?”
“I’m okay, Commander,” Jid said, his voice coming out from between clenched teeth as Morrtic gave the hatch control two point-blank blaster bolts. “Damn, but that stings.”
“Can you walk?” Kimmund asked. Their earlier tangles with Grysk lightning guns had shown that a close-in shot could scramble a stormtrooper’s muscles and nervous system, leaving him temporarily unable to function.
“Not yet,” Jid growled. “Leave me here—I’ll watch your backtrail.”
Kimmund snarled a silent curse. The ten stormtroopers he’d left the Chimaera with were already down by four: two left to guard the Darkhawk, and two more lost to enemy fire. If he now also had to leave Jid behind, they would be down to five stormtroopers and one Noghri. Half his force, and the Grysks had yet to spring their main trap.
Elebe was obviously thinking along the same lines. “Sir, depending on what we find up ahead, we might end up taking a different route back to the Darkhawk,” he pointed out quietly. “If we leave him here, we may not be able to retrieve him when we’re done.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jid said. “Go on—I’ll catch up.”
“Sure,” Kimmund said. Or else some Grysk would stroll up to him while he was unable to aim and take him out with a single leisurely shot.
But there wasn’t anything Kimmund could do about it. He couldn’t afford to leave another man behind to guard Jid while he recovered.
“I could carry him,” Elebe offered.
“Carry me and shoot, too?” Jid scoffed. “You’re bad enough when it’s just you and the firing range. Go—I’ll be all right.”
“Right,” Kimmund said reluctantly. Leaving another man behind…but the mission had to come first. “Elebe, you and Morrtic are on point. Rukh?”
“That corridor, to the right,” the Noghri said, pointing ahead.
“Let’s go,” Kimmund said. Letting Elebe and Morrtic get a three-pace lead, he motioned Rukh ahead and fell in behind him.
“How the hell can he possibly know that?” Drav growled from behind Kimmund as they headed out.
“The air currents change,” Rukh said over his shoulder as he again dropped to all fours. “The scent rides the currents.”
“Just make sure you don’t mix up your directions,” Kimmund warned. “We can’t wander around the ship all day.”
“One corridor,” Rukh promised.
Morrtic reached the corner and swung around it to the right, her E-11 ready. She paused a split second, then did a 180 to face the other way down the corridor. “Clear,” she murmured.
She stayed in position as Elebe rounded the corner beside her, bringing the long muzzle of his DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle around and leveling it to the right, the direction Rukh had indicated. “One hatch twenty meters directly ahead,” he reported. “Sealed; no side access.”
“There,” Rukh said. “In that compartment.”
Kimmund muttered a curse. Twenty meters of bare corridor, with no cover and nowhere to run. Traps couldn’t get any more obvious.
But he had his orders. Thrawn wanted the Chiss children out, and Vader hadn’t disagreed, so that was what the First Legion was going to do.
“Morrtic, Drav: rear guard,” he ordered. Bad enough to be walking into a trap. No sense giving the enemy a chance to close in behind them, too. “Stay sharp.”
He rounded the corner as Drav took up position with Morrtic, the two stormtroopers standing back-to-back and watching the other approaches. Elebe slipped into formation on Kimmund’s right and slightly behind him, while Sampa settled on Kimmund’s left. Rukh was somewhere, but Kimmund’s full attention was on the hatch and he didn’t have time to check on where the Noghri might have gone.
Morrtic had been right. Bare corridor, no cover, no exit. Kimmund glanced around, looking for signs of hidden gunports, but the walls, ceiling, and deck seemed solid. It was just the hatch, then, which would presumably open at the Grysks’ chosen time and unleash their carefully prepared firestorm.
The First Legion made a point of keeping their armor in perfect condition, and as a result it was usually able to block almost anything except a point-blank shot from a seriously and probably illegally enhanced blaster. Unfortunately, they’d already seen that Grysk lightning bolts didn’t have to penetrate the armor to take a stormtrooper out of the fight.
In fact, Kimmund decided, being left alive but unable to help as he watched his force gunned down in front of him would be worse than being killed outright.
And that was most likely the exact scenario that was about to unfold. Whether all the missing Grysks were waiting behind that hatch, or wheth
er they were planning to waylay the stormtroopers on the way back to the Darkhawk, in the end it would all add up the same.
All for a couple of children. And not even Imperial children.
Kimmund was prepared to give his life for his stormtroopers, his commander, and his Empire. He wasn’t thrilled about giving it up for alien children.
Curse Thrawn, anyway.
They were three paces from the hatch, and Kimmund had a door-popper blasting cap ready in his hand, when the hatch suddenly slid open to reveal a triple line of Grysks: two lying prone, two kneeling, two standing. All six had their weapons leveled; and even as Kimmund squeezed his E-11’s trigger the aliens opened fire at the stormtroopers.
Or rather, they tried to.
Even before the hatch was all the way open the two prone gunners’ weapons inexplicably jerked to either side, one left, one right, their blasts arcing harmlessly into the corridor walls instead of their targets. A split second later the two kneeling Grysks’ heads simultaneously snapped backward, the backs of their helmets slamming into the torsos of the soldiers standing behind them, all four blasts also going wildly off target as their lightning guns were knocked out of line.
And suddenly Kimmund got it.
“Head shots!” he snapped at his men, shifting his aim to the leftmost standing Grysk. The alien, who had been starting to recover from the earlier impact against his torso, collapsed in a heap on the deck as two blaster bolts shattered his faceplate and sizzled through his skull. The two prone Grysks likewise went limp as Elebe and Sampa fired simultaneous blaster bolts into their helmets. A blaster bolt sizzled past Kimmund’s helmet as Drav opened fire from the corridor intersection, dropping the remaining standing Grysk. The leftmost kneeling alien jerked to the side, his weapon twisting toward the ceiling; Kimmund shifted his aim to the other kneeler and sent him flopping backward with his fellows. Before he could turn his E-11 toward the last Grysk the alien’s back twisted around and he fell to the deck.
