Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [124]
Pellaeon nodded. “We’ll have to reevaluate our security.”
Daala shook her head, and flaming copper hair swirled around her. “Later. For now we must reconsider our plans.” Then a grin cracked through her outrage as a new tactic occurred to her.
The turbolift stopped at a lower level, and Colonel Cronus strode up to them, looking harried. “They’ve escaped, Admiral,” he said. “The perimeter defense droids fired on them and caused minor damage, but their ship still managed the jump into hyperspace.”
Daala nodded at the short and compact colonel. Cronus appeared surprised that she hadn’t ordered his immediate execution. “Have you tracked them?” she asked.
“Not completely, Admiral, but we did match their vector, and we believe there’s only one place in the vicinity they would likely have gone: a planet called Khomm at the edge of the Core Systems.”
Daala ran a fingertip along her lips. “Is it inhabited?”
“Yes,” Cronus said, “though unremarkable. Its people were neutral during our previous conflict with the Rebels. However, we did match the physical appearance of the alien Jedi spy with the natives. Khomm must be more than just a neutral world if Jedi have come from there.” Cronus’s muscular chest and upper arms pressed against the seams of his tight uniform.
Daala strode down the corridor with Pellaeon and Cronus flanking her. She remained silent as the possibilities flickered through her mind. “I have learned that my strategy must be flexible,” she said. “I failed before, but now I will adapt our plans quickly. Our fleet is ready to launch, is it not?” She glanced from Cronus to Pellaeon.
“Yes, Admiral,” Pelleaon said, “for the most part. What remained for the next few days is personnel reassignment, inventory, supplies, and—”
Daala cut him off with a sideways swipe of her hand. “Those Jedi spies heard that we were planning to launch in the next few days. Instead we shall launch immediately. Colonel Cronus,” she said, “you have the list of preferred targets for your Victory-class fleet?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Add the planet Khomm to the top of the list. Gather your forces and go at once.”
Cronus shot a grin at her. “Yes, Admiral.”
“Remember,” she added sternly, “your orders are to strike fast and frequently in many different systems. Cause as much damage as possible, but your main goal is to create confusion, not to conquer. The Rebels will disperse their fleet to find you—while we approach the main target.”
She turned. “Vice Admiral Pellaeon.”
“Yes, Admiral?”
“You will take your fleet of Imperial Star Destroyers directly to Yavin 4 and proceed with its complete destruction. I will follow in the Night Hammer with sufficient force to occupy the Rebel base permanently.” Her green eyes flashed at her two commanders. “I want the fleet launched within the hour.”
Pellaeon and Cronus dashed off to their respective commands. At two minutes short of an hour, Daala’s Imperial fleet was spurred into motion like a great slavering monster suddenly unleashed on the New Republic.
Like crimson projectiles the Victory-class ships scattered across the orbital lanes of Khomm, their full turbolaser batteries directed at the cities below.
Colonel Cronus sat in the command chair of Vice Admiral Pellaeon’s former ship, the 13X, issuing orders to the gunners in his fleet. “Target the communication and observation satellites first.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before a cleansing fire of turbolaser bolts scoured the blackness of space, obliterating silver dots of orbiting satellites and leaving behind spangles of debris.
“Now they’re blind,” he said, “before they even know what’s going on.” He sat back and pressed his hands together, pushing, performing his endless ritual of isometric exercises that pitted one muscle against the other to strengthen him, even as he sat and watched the massacre of Khomm.
He spoke through the comm channel to all ships. “Target weapons indiscriminately