Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [127]
“Their main target is said to be Yavin 4. Daala means to destroy all of the new Jedi Knights. Dorsk 81 and I are on our way to the Jedi academy at this moment to help with the fight. We request any assistance possible.”
“So it’s a two-pronged attack,” Ackbar said. “The Hoth Asteroid Belt and Yavin 4. They must be confident in their ability to surprise us.”
“We know about their plans now,” Wedge said. “Should we split up?”
Ackbar rumbled. “That message was sent to the full New Republic fleet. We can perhaps hope for reinforcements—yet I believe we should divide our forces now. I doubt either of these attacks is a feint. I will take the Galactic Voyager and head to Yavin 4. You go and rescue General Madine. We cannot ignore the threat from the Hutts.”
“Understood, Admiral,” Wedge said.
Ackbar’s image nodded deeply. “I must bring the remainder of the fleet up to full combat status. This is just the beginning.”
“Don’t worry—we’ll get Madine and his team out of there,” Wedge said. “And we’ll try to wreck that Hutt superweapon while we’re at it.”
All personnel were summoned from their sleep periods. Lights increased on every deck of the Yavaris. Troops ran up and down the corridors, mustering.
All during the war-gaming exercises, the fleet had remained coy, hiding their real purpose and readiness. Now, though, the ships dropped all pretense and ignored the Hutts who were undoubtedly watching from the greenish planet below.
The New Republic war-gaming fleet split into two separate prongs and established their course vectors, drifting away.
Ackbar and his ships funneled down to starpoints, plunging into hyperspace, while Wedge ordered the Yavaris to proceed at full speed toward the Hoth Asteroid Belt and Madine’s distress signal — hoping they would get there in time.
YAVIN 4
CHAPTER 45
The seventeen Star Destroyers under the command of Vice Admiral Pellaeon sliced out of hyperspace in a well-ordered fleet. Their perfect formation demonstrated the precision and unrelenting dedication of the new Imperial forces Daala had forged.
Standing on the bridge of the Firestorm—the Star Destroyer that Admiral Daala herself had commanded during her double cross of the war criminal Harrsk—Pellaeon watched the green jewel of the jungle moon approaching, a living emerald sphere dwarfed by the enormous gas giant Yavin, whose gravity tugged at his attacking fleet of ships.
He stared with narrowed eyes out the viewports of the bridge tower. He had trimmed his gray mustache, made certain that his hair lay neatly beneath his vice admiral’s cap. He brushed down his uniform to present a more imposing image, a leader for his fleet on their victorious mission. It invigorated him to be in command of a worthy ship again, not the small Victory-class Star Destroyer … though even now Colonel Cronus would be using the fleet of crimson ships to cause significant destruction throughout the Rebel-aligned worlds.
Pellaeon thought of his days in command of the Chimaera serving Grand Admiral Thrawn and how close they had come to defeating the Rebellion once and for all. Now, with Admiral Daala they had that chance again—and Pellaeon would not waste it.
“Orbital insertion successful, sir,” the navigator said from her station.
Pellaeon continued to marvel at the new women officers in Daala’s fleet; they seemed to serve with even more dedication than the other soldiers. “Any sign of defenses?” he asked. The jungle moon seemed too quiet, too vulnerable. He was astounded that such an important site to the Rebellion would have no apparent defenses whatsoever.
“None detected, Vice Admiral,” the tactical chief said dubiously. Apparently the man felt the same concerns.
“All right,” Pellaeon said, moving to the next phase. “Deploy the jamming net. We need to get in place and be operational before the Jedi sorcerers can send a detailed signal to their