Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [137]
Cronus no longer had a perfect record, and he was upset.
As they passed through an exploding fuel-supply station and a hazardous forest of loose, drifting girders, Cronus ordered his Star Destroyers to deploy their timed seeker-detonators with chaff and debris clouds. The small, powerful mines would hunt out innocuous-looking targets, where they would be triggered later—a surprise for the Rebels to find during cleanup operations. Cronus took a great deal of satisfaction in knowing he could continue the destruction even after he departed.
“Rebel defenses are aligned, sir,” the sensor chief said, “and gathering force.”
Cronus nodded and leaned forward. “Time to go. We’ve caused all the devastation we can here.”
The fleet of Victory-class ships escaped cleanly into hyperspace as the Rebel forces came gunning after them.
The sweeping cultural museums on Porus Vida were renowned throughout the galaxy, centuries old—and astonishingly undefended against attack. Colonel Cronus didn’t consider them military targets … but Admiral Daala had included them as a psychological strike, and Cronus followed orders.
It was a simple act for his ships to sweep by with turbolasers blazing to set the art and document storehouses aflame. His remote sensors transmitted images of sculpture gardens melting under waves of heat, graceful figures with arms upswept in aesthetic expressions of joy, buckling in agony as they melted into lava.
The green grasses of manicured gardens were crisped brown at the moment of flashpoint. Reflection pools and fish ponds boiled into steam, and screaming patrons stumbled and fell in their tracks. The museums burned, their treasure houses annihilated.
Colonel Cronus tapped his fingers together and pursed his lips. Who cared about cultural records anyway? He was in the process of destroying their history, and making history of his own.
The Imperial fleet stumbled upon the diplomatic convoy through sheer serendipity, but Cronus took advantage of the surprise.
The convoy consisted of nine rounded cylinders strung with gossamer solar sails, which made them look like flower petals spinning through space, augmented by sublight engines as they came toward a refueling station. Beautiful to behold, Cronus thought, but sluggish, poorly maneuverable, and slow to respond to an overt attack.
When the desperate alien transmissions came to him, he saw the aliens were a species of fragile-looking insectoid creatures with sweeping butterfly wings—and very little weaponry. When his Victory-class fleet charged among the ships, turning their solar sails to cinders, he received an immediate and unconditional surrender.
Colonel Cronus was not interested in surrender.
He checked their identification and stated mission, filing away the data in case Daala might need it. Then he ordered their complete annihilation.
“These are allies of our enemy, bringing gifts and swearing allegiance to Coruscant,” Cronus said. “They chose the wrong side in this galactic conflict, and now they will pay for it.”
He fired upon the lead ambassadorial ship, using turbolasers like hot razors to rip open the ship’s metal belly, so that atmosphere and passengers spewed into space like spurting blood.
His ships continued the bombardment until the aliens’ reserve fuel tanks detonated. Cronus opened the comm channel again to his fleet. “Since this convoy is unarmed, we may as well take the time to finish the job.”
The Victory-class ships and their pilots, still angered by losing two ships at the Chardaan Depot, took great relish in slicing apart every last one of the butterfly ships.…
They drifted for a moment surrounded by total wreckage. Cronus caught his breath from the excitement and ordered the fleet to proceed. “A job well done,” he said over the comm system. “Now it’s time to rejoin Admiral Daala at Yavin 4.”
He closed his eyes and relaxed for a moment as his fleet of Star Destroyers soared onward, unchallenged.
HOTH ASTEROID BELT
CHAPTER 49
In the