Before the Storm - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [67]
“The ships about which Nil Spaar could say nothing are enough in themselves for concern,” said A’baht.
Leia ignored him, focusing her attention on Ackbar. “You feel that strongly about this?”
“Yes. If you do not agree to let the Fleet’s orders stand, you will have to find someone to replace me,” said the Calamari. “I will have no choice. I cannot continue without your confidence.”
Leia closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly. Searching her heart, she could not find the strength to resist Ackbar’s earnest certainty. How could she place her judgment above his? This was his domain. She did not trust herself that much.
“Very well,” she said. “The orders stand.”
* * *
Han Solo knew that something was up when Leia came back to the president’s residence in the middle of the afternoon. But he could never have guessed what she was going to ask him when she found him in the garden.
“Han, I need you to go with the Fifth Fleet on this mission.”
“What? That’s crazy. What do you need me for?”
“It’s A’baht,” she said. “I don’t know if he really accepts my authority and judgment.”
“Then ask Admiral Ackbar to relieve him of command. You have a right to senior commanders you have confidence in.”
“There isn’t anything I can point to to justify it,” Leia said. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. I’m just not sure what he’ll do when he’s on his own out there.”
“That’s reason enough,” said Han. “Ackbar will understand.”
“No,” Leia said. “He won’t. Han, I just have a feeling that I need to be there, by proxy, right at General A’baht’s side. I can’t explain it. The idea of watching the Fleet sail tomorrow without a friend on board makes me very afraid.”
“Why me?”
“You’re the only person I trust completely,” said Leia. “And you have all the necessary clearances in place.”
“What about the kids?”
“I’ve already talked to Winter. She’s willing to come back and take over while you’re gone.”
Han glowered. “That’s not the way we decided it was going to be.”
“It’ll be all right. I’ll spend more time here.”
“You know A’baht’s going to hate this,” said Han. “Commanders always hate feeling like they’re being watched. And he’s gonna take it out on me.”
“You’ll bear up.”
“He’s gonna expect me to be in full uniform. I’m gonna have to shave every morning—”
“I know I’m asking a lot, Han. The chances are it’ll be a long, boring deployment. I hope it will be.”
“So why am I going?”
“Just in case I don’t get my wish.”
He combed his fingers through his hair, then scratched the back of his neck vigorously. “Son of a—How you get me to do these things—”
Leia hugged him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you, darling.”
“Yeah, that’s how.” He sighed. “I’m gonna need to catch a shuttle up tonight, aren’t I.”
“By nine or so. They’re holding a Fleet four-place for you at Eastport.”
“Then I’d better go in. I need to pack.”
Her arms tightened around him. “I already sent the valet to pack for you,” she said. “You need to stay here and hold me until the last possible second.”
“Right,” said Han. “That’s what I was about to say.”
Chapter 9
For twenty-two days Colonel Pakkpekatt’s little armada had flown station with the Teljkon vagabond in deep space near Gmar Askilon. In all that time the mystery ship had done nothing to acknowledge their presence.
The vagabond had not changed course, accelerated, decelerated, emitted any radiation, transmitted any coherent energy, altered its heat signature, or scanned the armada by any means known to the New Republic. It was coasting, seemingly inert, on the same heading it had been on when spotted by ferret IX-44F nearly three months before.
The armada had done its part to preserve the silence. No messages had been sent to the vagabond. No active scanners had painted it with energy. No ship had approached closer than fifteen kilometers—respecting the facts that the Hrasskis contact had been at a radius of thirteen klicks and the debacle with the frigate Boldheart had been at a distance of ten.
Pakkpekatt’s technical experts had captured countless images of the ship, using