Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [106]
“The main phase of our assault,” Pellaeon continued, “will be a decisive attack on the new training facility where the Rebels are attempting to create a commando force of their own Jedi sorcerers. Our fleet will strike their training center and destroy it before the Rebels even know that we are on the march. Without their Jedi Knights, the Rebel Alliance will be a weak assemblage of inept idealists.”
The audience cheered, and Kyp felt compelled to applaud as well, so as not to draw further attention to himself. Dorsk 81 looked ill, and Kyp knew what the cloned alien was thinking—that they needed to leave immediately, warn the New Republic, gather defenses around Yavin 4.
But to move now would focus the attention of the entire Imperial fleet on them. They had to wait.
Pellaeon droned on, and Kyp felt himself growing tenser. The audience seemed to be keyed up and enthusiastic. Along the walls holographic images of Emperor Palpatine played, animated murals of how the New Order had supposedly brought a too-brief golden age to the galaxy.
“Our preparations are nearly complete,” Pellaeon said. “Your superior officers will give you full details of troop movements and how you will best serve in this sudden and decisive attack. But first, allow me to present the one person responsible for bringing us all together.”
He gestured toward the turbolift as it opened on the stage behind him. The towering videoscreens showed a figure emerging, slim and tall with a mane of hair that looked like copper fire. “Admiral Daala!” Pellaeon said, and stepped aside.
Kyp felt a bomb with a rapidly burning fuse drop down into his guts, as he stared in disbelief and horror. The Imperial admiral stepped up to speak, her face narrowed and sharpened by failure; its once hard beauty was now even more angular … more evil.
Daala had captured Han Solo and Kyp after they escaped from the spice mines of Kessel, and because she deemed Kyp a worthless prisoner, she had ordered his execution. Kyp had thought to destroy her in the Cauldron Nebula, using the Sun Crusher to ignite a cluster of hot blue suns. Somehow, she had miraculously escaped to attack the Maw Installation again—but she had died there. Kyp was sure of it. She could not be here! She could not be in charge of the new Imperial fleet!
All of this passed through his mind in a fraction of a second, and Dorsk 81 sensed through the Force the volcano waiting to erupt within Kyp. The cloned alien placed his olive hands on his shoulder to hold him back—but the sudden grip startled Kyp into losing control.
He shouted, “No!” tearing himself away from Dorsk 81’s grasp. “She’s dead! Daala has to be dead.”
While others in the audience cheered, those nearest to him turned at the disturbance. Kyp brought himself under control, furious at his own lack of restraint.
The stormtroopers appeared again, efficient and fast moving. “Stop this outburst immediately!” they said, blasters already drawn. “This is your second warning. Show me your work assignment and papers.” Two others came up, pointing weapons at Kyp and Dorsk 81.
“Yes, yes—sure,” Kyp said, patting his pocket. His mind whirled. Dorsk 81 looked as if he were about to faint, though the alien stood up straight, tense, ready to fight if necessary. Kyp knew they had no other choice. He slid a hand into the pocket of his overalls, ostensibly to remove his work assignment card—and wrapped his fingers around his lightsaber handle.
The stormtroopers were more annoyed than uneasy. Kyp would take them totally by surprise.
Admiral Daala’s voice boomed out from the amplification systems like a horrible echo from Kyp’s past. “You can all be proud of what you are about to do,” she said.
Yes, Kyp thought in a flash, yes I am. He snatched out the lightsaber, and with a snap-hiss the energy blade sprang out. In a single sweeping arc he slashed off the stormtrooper’s armored hand at the wrist, taking the blaster pistol with it, then