Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [31]
Daala bristled. “I won’t allow you to order me around like that.”
“I outrank you, and you have my orders,” he screamed. “Do you serve the Empire or do you have your own agenda?”
The stormtroopers brought their blaster rifles to bear, pointing at her. They looked uneasy, but they followed their warlord’s orders. Daala could feel aiming mechanisms focusing on vulnerable points in her body.
“Very well, Harrsk,” she murmured, still stunned at the loss of Kratas and numb with her own unchanneled anger. She intentionally denied him the title of Supreme Warlord. Her green eyes narrowed to calculating slits.
“Give me full command of one of your Star Destroyers, and I will lead your fleet.”
CHAPTER 10
As the forces of Supreme Warlord Harrsk reeled from the attack, Admiral Daala found herself on the command bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer Firestorm.
She surveyed the carnage High Admiral Teradoc’s forces had wrought: the smoldering wreckage of the flagship, the frozen bodies of all troops lost in the explosion. Three more of Harrsk’s Star Destroyers had also been sufficiently damaged as to require lengthy repairs. She would not be able to use them in her retaliatory strike.
That left eight—twice as many battleships as Grand Moff Tarkin had given her to defend Maw Installation. It would be enough.
Daala stood rigid on the bridge, staring out at the red giant star. Thick filters had been placed across the viewports so she could watch the blazing ocean of hot gas without blinking. The commotion of battle preparations continued around her unheeded.
Inside her, a cauldron of frustration simmered. She did not want to fight Teradoc. She did not want to fight Harrsk. She wanted them both—and all the other squabbling warlords—to fight the cursed Rebels! Commander Kratas had died because of their bickering. They were a disgrace to the memory of the Empire; and if this was all the Imperial ideal could offer anymore, then perhaps it was best they failed.
But Daala could not accept that. Tarkin had taught her never to give up. She clasped her hands at the small of her back, squeezing her black gloves so tightly that her bones hurt. There must be a better way, even if she had to force these others kicking and screaming to see it.
Harrsk’s magnified image came to her over the comm system. He kept his half-scarred face turned squarely into the transmission range, flaunting both his ugly and his undamaged side. “Admiral Daala, I am aboard the Star Destroyer Whirlwind at your flank. You will take the point in our attack. I trust you have already developed a strategy?”
“Warlord Harrsk,” Daala said, looking into the blurred image of his face, “I have just begun to study the data your spies gathered on Teradoc’s fortress. Give me a moment to assess the possibilities for attack.”
“No,” Harrsk insisted. “The High Admiral will never expect us to strike so swiftly. We lose our element of surprise with each second of delay. It’ll be a full-frontal attack with all weapons blazing. We’ll knock him reeling!”
Daala scowled. She took quick, controlled breaths through flared nostrils. “Warlord, I have studied my own failures and realized that many of them can be traced directly to ill-advised actions in the heat of anger.”
“Nevertheless,” Harrsk said, “you will follow my orders and launch an immediate attack. I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with your cowardice and in-subordination. If you continue to argue, I will strip you of your rank and place you in the brig.”
Daala stiffened. She certainly wanted to be removed from this sham command, but she did not want to be imprisoned and tried for treason. Kratas was gone. Her former crew was gone. Her every connection had dwindled to insignificance. And she must start somewhere to rebuild her capabilities. This was a beginning, and Daala decided to apply her imagination to discover some way to salvage the situation.
“Very well, Supreme Warlord,” Daala said, saluting him crisply. “With full command authority of this Star