Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [30]
“Teradoc is trying to disgrace me,” Harrsk said.
On screen, Daala could see Kratas snapping to his duty as ranking officer on the bridge, instinctively issuing emergency orders. She was proud of how her second in command instantly took charge. She had trained him well.
“Concentrate all firepower,” Kratas said. “Select one target, destroy it, then move on to the next. Scattered fire won’t accomplish anything.”
Kratas took Warlord Harrsk’s flagship to the point of a phalanx formation. The Shockwave was larger than the other Star Destroyers, more heavily outfitted with high-energy weapons. The Shockwave targeted and fired, obliterating a sixth Victory ship. It aimed again, crippling a target, and the crimson vessel went dim and spun out of control.
Then Daala realized with horror that the Shockwave itself was the primary target for the combined assault of a hundred Victory-class Star Destroyers. They converged like metal filings drawn to a magnet, firing and firing.
“He’s trying to destroy my flagship!” Harrsk said, balling his fists and standing next to his floating chair. “He wants to humiliate me. I told you.”
“Cease fire,” Kratas ordered his bridge crew. “Route all power to our shields. We’ve got to withstand this salvo.”
The Victory-class destroyers came on without pausing. The other Star Destroyers in Harrsk’s fleet shot at them, taking a minor toll, but the crimson warships were suicidal, seeming not even to notice the loss of their comrades. The Victory-class ships formed a blanket of turbo-laser fire, stabbing again and again, pummeling the shields of the Shockwave.
“We can’t hold out much longer,” Kratas said, his voice harsh with strain. “Shields failing.” He turned to look out of the screen again. His dark eyes, wide with realization, seemed to be staring directly out at Daala. “Admiral, I—”
Then the screen turned to a fuzz of gray static. One of the spycam images showed the Shockwave cracking apart as geysers of molten white fire shot from breaches in the hull. The engine compartment spewed unleashed energy in all directions. The hull integrity could not hold.
The Victory-class Star Destroyers kept firing until finally the Shockwave was no more than a glowing cloud of debris and an agonizing memory for Admiral Daala. “Oh, Kratas,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Achieving their target, the surviving Victory ships—sixty-two of them according to the tally on the data screens—reversed course and streaked toward hyperspace, even as Warlord Harrsk’s remaining Imperial Star Destroyers took unsuccessful potshots in their wake.
Daala stood, feeling cold outrage. Commander Kratas hadn’t even been part of Harrsk’s fighting force. He had been a bystander in a childish squabble between feuding warlords. Daala’s lip curled as the rage built inside her, like pressurized steam rushing through her blood.
“We won’t stand for this,” Harrsk growled. “This time we’ll get even, and I have the means to do so with you, Admiral Daala,” he said, looking up at her, his golden droid eye blazing.
Daala was startled from her grim reverie. “What?”
Harrsk continued breathlessly. “We must smash that obese coward now with everything we have! I’ve been gathering my military might for a strike just such as this.”
Daala fixed Harrsk with a withering glare. “I have no intention of assisting you in your childish brawl, Warlord Harrsk. You just lost me the best commander I ever had. I will not perpetuate this—”
“Stormtroopers!” Harrsk shouted toward the door. “Come here immediately, weapons ready.”
The stormtrooper contingent marched into the large viewing room. Their white boots thundered on the glassy floor as they stood at attention. Cold black goggles and white plasteel helmets smothered all expressions.
“Take Admiral Daala to one of my Star Destroyers,” Harrsk said. “She will command our retaliatory strike against High Admiral Teradoc.” He scowled at her. “If she