Treason - Timothy Zahn

by Star Wars

And there it was. The question Eli had known was coming.

  A question that had no good answer.

  But now, as he gazed into Vah’nya’s eyes, he knew what his answer had to be.

  “I would never do anything to harm you, Vah’nya,” he said quietly. “You’re probably the only friend I have aboard the Steadfast, and I would give my life without hesitation to save yours.” He braced himself. “But there are worse things than death, and being forced into service to the Grysks is one of those. If the Steadfast is truly without hope, I pledge to you that you and your sister navigators will never have to endure that living hell.”

  Vah’nya closed her eyes briefly. “Thank you. Let us both hope and work to ensure it doesn’t come to that.”

  “Indeed,” Eli said. He touched her shoulder reassuringly, started to draw his hand back.

  Stopped as she reached up and took his hand in hers. For a moment she held it, and he could feel the tension in her muscles and the coldness of her skin. Then she let go and bowed her head slightly. “Thank you,” she said again.

  “Lieutenant Eli’van’to?” Ar’alani called, rising from her chair. “Return to your station.”

  “Yes, Admiral.” Touching Vah’nya’s shoulder one last time, Eli crossed the bridge again.

  Ar’alani was waiting for him. “She spoke to you of her fear and request?” she asked.

  Eli looked at her sharply, wondering how much she knew. But her face wasn’t giving anything away. “Yes, she did.”

  “And you’re prepared to deal with both?”

  Eli swallowed. She knew, all right. She knew everything. And if Eli admitted that he was even considering a capital crime…“Yes, Admiral,” he said. “I am.”

  Ar’alani’s eyes held his a moment, then shifted to the status boards. “Then stand ready, Lieutenant. And let us hope that Grand Admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo is as prepared for his battle as we are for ours.”

  Eli nodded. “He is, Admiral. He always is.”

  “Good.” With a final look at him, Ar’alani walked back toward her command chair.

  Eli watched her go. She might die today. The dark thought twisted into his heart. She might die. Vah’nya might die. But if they did, he was determined to do everything in his power to make sure they didn’t die in vain.

  And they absolutely would not die alone.

  * * *

  —

  “This is madness,” Savit said, his voice and expression puzzled.

  His fingers were still locked into the flesh of Ronan’s arm. But at this point, Ronan hardly noticed.

  Because it was madness. The Chimaera couldn’t take on four Star Destroyers by itself. That was simple mathematics. He knew it, Savit knew it, and presumably Commodore Faro knew it.

  And yet not only was the Chimaera still moving toward them, but it had launched a squadron of TIE fighters.

  Was Faro running a bluff? It was the only answer.

  But she was a commodore, and Savit was a grand admiral, with all the gulf of rank and experience and competence such a difference implied. Savit was going to call that bluff, and the Chimaera’s entire crew was going to pay for Faro’s folly.

  “Why do you call it madness?” Thrawn asked. His voice, in contrast to Savit’s, showed complete calmness. “Do you not believe I could defeat you?”

  A barked laugh rose reflexively from deep within Ronan. But to his surprise, it vanished before it could pass his lips. The sudden change in Savit’s expression—

  “You could probably defeat me one-to-one,” Savit said, his tone suddenly cautious. “But this is four-to-one. And you’re here, not on the Chimaera.”

  “Your statement assumes three things,” Thrawn said. “First, that your captains will refuse to accept the evidence gathered against you. Second—”

  “You have no evidence, Thrawn,” Savit cut in. “Only hints and theories and innuendo. My captains are smart enough to see through that sort of smoke screen.”

  “Second,” Thrawn said, “you assume that I don’t know you.”

  Savit frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The frown cleared. “Oh. Right. Your famous learn-the-enemy-through-his-artwork technique. Unfortunately for you, I don’t possess any artwork, and all the pieces at my family home were chosen by my parents. Or do you think I learned my battle tactics from my father’s favorite art dealer?”

  “Third, you have three Star Destroyers, not four,” Thrawn continued, ignoring the jibe completely.

  Savit snorted. “What, your people count differently than we do?”

  “You have three here at hand,” Thrawn said. “You chose to leave the Harbinger and Captain Pellaeon out of the confrontation.”

  Savit’s fingers tightened briefly around Ronan’s arm, then relaxed. “Pellaeon is completely loyal.”

  “I agree,” Thrawn said. “But his loyalty is to the Empire, not you.”

  Ronan took a deep breath. Thrawn was wrong. It was time to put an end to this. “All right, enough is enough,” he said. “We need to stop this, right now.”

  “Do you disagree that Grand Admiral Savit’s crimes deserve to be examined?” Thrawn asked.

  “Not at all,” Ronan said. “But they’re not worth getting a lot of good men and women killed. So he stole a few turbolasers—so what? Stardust can handle such a minor loss.”

  “And the principles of broken faith and treason mean nothing to you?” Thrawn persisted.

  “You were about to absolve him of all crimes if he came and fought the Grysks with you,” he pointed out. “What’s the difference between your offer and mine?”

  “The difference is that I had no intention of absolving him of his crimes,” Thrawn said. “I merely offered a way for him to give balance to those actions when judgment was pronounced.”

  Ronan felt his lip twist. Like Savit would ever have accepted a short-end deal like that. Savit was right; Thrawn really was incompetent in the political arena.

  “But I appreciate your concern for the men and women currently at risk,” Thrawn continued. “Would you feel better if I told you I can defeat Admiral Savit’s forces without a single loss of life?” He raised his eyebrows. “Admiral?”

  Ronan frowned, flicking a glance at Savit. The grand admiral’s eyes had gone narrow, his face hardening.

  But there was something else there, as well. Amid the anger and determination, Ronan could see a hint of growing uncertainty.

  Ronan had heard the stories about Thrawn. Even if only half of them were true…

  “Maybe you could,” Savit conceded. “But as I said, you’re not there. You’re here.”

  “True,” Thrawn agreed. He cocked his head. “Do you think that makes a difference?”

  “It makes all the difference in the universe,” Savit retorted. He gestured to the comm officer to open a channel. “Captain Rasdel?” he called.

  “Yes, Admiral?” Rasdel’s voice came from the bridge speaker.

  “Move the Misthunter up,” Savit ordered. “Prepare an ion cannon attack against the Chimaera. Full salvo, all six cannons.”

  There was just the slightest pause. “Yes, sir,” Rasdel said.

  Savit heard the pause, too. “Are you questioning my order, Captain?” he demanded.

  “No, sir, not at all,” Rasdel hastened to assure him. “It’s just…it doesn’t look good, our attacking someone who’s raised questions about you.”

  “Would you rather wait until the Chimaera’s in range to launch a full-scale turbolaser attack against us?” Savit growled. “Would it salve your bruised conscience in the final seconds of your life and the lives of your bridge crew to know Faro fired first?”

  “No, sir,” Rasdel said stiffly.

  “Besides that, the Chimaera’s already launched TIE fighters,” Savit reminded him. “That by itself constitutes a hostile
move.”

  Ronan pursed his lips. Yes, Faro had launched some of her fighters. And he could see how that could be considered an invitation to combat.

  On the other hand, those fighters seemed to be taking their time coming around in their individual arcs toward the Firedrake and Savit’s other ships. Certainly they weren’t charging to the attack.

  “Understood, Admiral,” Rasdel said. “Bringing the Misthunter to attack range now.”

  “Good. Fire when ready.”

  * * *

  —

  Savit will not attack personally at the beginning. He will not wish to directly involve himself, not at first. He will also wish to test his subordinates and learn their expertise before offering them more challenging tasks. He favors the left side, so the attack will most likely come from that direction.

  Faro looked up at the viewport. The Misthunter was off the Firedrake’s portside, so that was presumably Savit’s chosen surrogate attacker.

  The first attack will be ion cannons. Savit prefers to begin cautiously, and will also bow to the qualms and uncertainties of those who wish to disable the Chimaera without permanent damage. Your defense will be your own ion cannons.

  “Ion cannons: Target the Misthunter’s ion launchers,” Faro called. “As soon as they launch their volley, launch one in return.”

  “Acknowledged, Commodore.”

  Faro squeezed her datapad a little tighter. Like Thrawn’s earlier slingshot trick, this one also had solid science beneath it. On the other hand, she’d never heard of anyone countering an ion cannon burst with one of their own.

  Of course, part of that was most defenders wouldn’t know when or from where an ion attack would be launched and would therefore not have enough time to aim and respond. In this case, the from where had been provided by Thrawn.

  If he was right.

  And that was the real question. There were a handful of high-ranking officers, Faro knew, who fancied themselves amateur artists, and others who maintained extensive collections of other people’s art. Give Thrawn an hour in their showrooms and Faro had no doubt he could take them apart piece by piece if he had to.

  But Savit had no such artistic leanings. She’d heard he wrote music, but music had never been part of Thrawn’s unique talent.

  On the other hand, Savit’s family owned a large collection of art. If there were some pieces that Savit had particularly liked, some that he’d perhaps kept in his own suite in the family mansion—and if Thrawn had somehow been able to get a list of those artworks—maybe that would be enough.

  “Ion bursts!” Hammerly snapped. “Six shots from the Misthunter.”

  “Counter bursts launched,” Pyrondi snapped back. “Running true.”

  Faro held her breath as she watched the two sets of ion bursts closing on each other. The leading edges of the bursts intersected.

  And as the containment fields crossed and annihilated each other, the suddenly released ions exploded outward in a spectacular fireworks display.

  Someone in the portside crew pit huffed out a startled-sounding oath. “Agreed,” Faro called back.

  If the first salvo fails, there will be a second and most likely a third attempt. Both will be more intense. Your probable defense against them…

  “Second attack is imminent,” Faro said. “And if it gets through, it won’t be just you—we all may very well be damned. So stay sharp.”

  * * *

  —

  “Fire!” Savit ordered. His voice holds command. His face and body language hold disbelief and growing anger. His fingers and hands move to his left, their stiffness holding impetus.

  The Chimaera’s ion blasts fly to meet the Misthunter’s attack. The gunners are quicker this time, and the ion blasts’ mutual destruction takes place closer to the Misthunter.

  “Again!” Savit ordered. His fingers again twitch left and forward, holding more energy and will. His body stance holds fresh determination.

  Misthunter fires more ion bursts. All but one is destroyed by the Chimaera’s answering burst. The remaining shot runs wide and misses its target.

  “Again,” Savit ordered. “Make it work, Rasdel, damn it.” His fingers twitch now to his right. “Stormbird, why are you just sitting there? Full ion cannon spread—now.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lochry said. His voice holds tension, possibly disbelief that the attacks are failing, possibly concern for his admiral’s state of mind.

  Savit’s fingers point right, then point ahead. “Enough is enough,” he said. His voice holds anger and determination. “Lochry, prep a squadron of TIEs. Continue with ion cannon fire; I’ll tell you when to launch.” The hand still holding Assistant Director Ronan’s arm twists a few degrees, eliciting a momentary spasm of discomfort in the assistant director’s face. “Let’s see how bloody Commodore Faro is prepared to get.”

  * * *

  —

  The second or third ion attack will include volleys from the ship on Savit’s right flank as well as the one on his left. He himself will not yet join in the attacks.

  “Ion volley from Misthunter,” Hammerly reported.

  “Countering,” Pyrondi confirmed. “Ion bursts—”

  “Second volley from Stormbird,” Hammerly cut in.

  And there was no way the Chimaera’s own ion cannons could intercept both salvos. Faro knew it, and presumably so did Savit.

  Fortunately, Thrawn had anticipated this one, too. “Quach?” she called.

  “On it, Commodore,” the TIE commander said briskly. “Left flank on intercept vectors.”

  Faro watched, again feeling the itching sense of uncertainty. Theoretically, TIE fighters should be able to survive the same intensity of ion blast that could disable sizable sectors of capital ships.

  But Thrawn’s projected scenario involved running the fighters through multiple hits. If the charge from the later bursts leaked through the outer shell instead of bleeding off into space, the pilots could suddenly find that all of the electronics in their vac suits had been fried, as well as the systems in the fighters themselves.

  Faro had tried to cover for that by putting an extra oxygen bottle in each cockpit, emergency supplies that could be screwed into the suit’s intake without relying on the usual mixers or scrubbers. But if enough charge got through the shell and the suit to stun or paralyze the pilot, even that backup would be useless.

  The portside TIEs were nearly in position now, angling hard across the path of the Stormbird’s ion volley. Fortunately, the Misthunter, unlike the Stormbird, hadn’t pulled ahead of Savit’s Firedrake but had instead stayed behind the flagship’s position. That meant a longer travel time for the six ion bursts it had sent toward the Chimaera, which gave the six TIEs on that flank enough time to move into intercept positions. Faro held her breath…

  The timing was perfect. The TIEs swept squarely into the ion volley, intercepting five of the bursts full-on and catching the sixth a glancing blow. The bolts splashed into the fighters’ spheres and wings like ocean waves before scattering and dissipating, while the sixth burst managed to hold together for another hundred meters before it, too, disintegrated. Faro threw a quick look at the status boards, confirming that the systems of all six TIEs had been completely shut down by the massive electrical jolts.

  All of their systems, including the comms and bio readouts. Until one or the other of those came back up, there would be no way to know if the pilots were alive or dead.

  But there was nothing Faro could do about that. The Chimaera’s own ion bursts had again intercepted and neutralized those from the Misthunter, but Savit was unlikely to give up now.

  There will be a final ion attack from the two ships. Having seen one flank of TIEs disabled, Savit will attempt the same attack in the hope of disabling the other flank.

  “Starboard TIEs: Go,” Faro ordered.

>   “Right flank TIEs, acknowledged,” Quach confirmed.

  Faro turned back to the viewport. Even as the freshly blasted TIEs from the Chimaera’s portside group continued their unpowered flight across the combat field toward Faro’s right, the starboard TIEs crisscrossed past them, heading toward the Chimaera’s portside and the original sentry positions of the now neutralized TIEs. “Cannons and tractors stand ready,” Faro warned. If Savit was playing according to Thrawn’s expectations, he would now attempt to neutralize the rest of Faro’s Marg Sabl sentries.

  Sure enough. Even as the starboard TIEs raced past the Chimaera’s nose, heading for their new portside positions, the Misthunter and Stormbird again opened up with the now familiar ion volleys.

  He will assume you will use the same defense against this attack. Instead, you will counter by…

  “Cannons firing,” Pyrondi called. “Tractors locked.”

  Ahead, the Chimaera’s TIEs continued their race to portside, toward the bolts now arrowing in from the Stormbird—

  Just as the Chimaera’s own ion cannon bursts met and disintegrated that salvo, leaving the TIEs untouched.

  Faro shifted her attention to the volley coming from the Misthunter toward the Chimaera’s starboard side. The drifting, lifeless TIEs moving in that direction abruptly sped up, their vectors angling now toward the Chimaera as Pyrondi’s tractors grabbed them and reeled them in. The Misthunter’s ion bursts were nearly there—the TIEs were still angling in toward them—

  And with another multiple splash of ionic energy, the TIEs slammed across the bolts, dissipating their energy.

  “Roll starboard!” Faro snapped. The helpless TIEs were careening on their new tractor-driven vectors straight toward the Chimaera’s starboard wing—

  And shot past without impacting the hull as Agral rolled the ship, dipping that side of the wedge out of their way.

  Faro felt her lips compress. So far, Thrawn had predicted Savit’s actions perfectly.

  But now the initial dance was over. Savit had tried to play nice and use non-lethal force, and been humiliated for his trouble.