Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [34]
“I have made a preemptive strike on Warlord Harrsk’s Star Destroyer to prevent him from attacking another Imperial stronghold. Harrsk’s attack is in direct response to hostile action taken by High Admiral Teradoc. I condemn that action as well. I can no longer tolerate wasted effort and squandered resources that could be better applied to destroying Rebel bases.
“Many of you may have heard of my attempts to destroy the Rebel Alliance, when I had only four Star Destroyers, outdated information, and no support from the Empire.”
With a stuttering burst of static, Warlord Harrsk’s image broke in. Daala was surprised, but momentarily pleased, that he had been able to get his comm system working again so quickly.
“Don’t listen to her! She’s a traitor and a renegade!” Harrsk said. “I order the loyal crew on the Firestorm to take Daala by force and execute her. Her crimes are obvious.”
Daala continued to hold the blaster pistol, but she let it dip down as she swept her gaze at her bridge crew. “Is my crime so obvious?” she asked. “My only aim is to stop this civil war so we can fight our true enemy. Do you honestly believe Warlord Harrsk has the greater interests of the Empire in mind—or is he merely interested in his personal power?
“I am not taking over. I do not want personal power or political leadership. All I ask is a military command. I will serve under any leader who will devote his forces to defeating the Rebel Alliance once and for all.”
Working the comm controls, Daala broke through the jammed transmission and spoke to all ships again. She noticed that the crimson Victory-class ships had swarmed around them, dozens strong, their weapons sufficient to obliterate Harrsk’s Star Destroyers—but they held their fire.
Daala went to the command station on the Firestorm’s bridge, turning her back on the crew to demonstrate a measure of trust. She remained extremely tense, but refused to let it show. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the navigator slowly rise from his seat and begin to withdraw his blaster sidearm. Daala prepared to turn and shoot him without warning, but one of the operations chiefs placed a hand on the navigator’s forearm, making him hold his fire. Daala trembled with relief.
She punched up the command systems for the Firestorm, keying in her access code, glad that she had forced Harrsk to give her full computer privileges before agreeing to run the attack on Teradoc’s fortress. Harrsk had suspected nothing, and now she had the final say on every decision.
The Firestorm’s computer recognized only Admiral Daala. She punched in a command she had dreaded even to consider on her own ship, verified it, then pressed the COMMIT button.
She spoke again into the transmission field. “If this is what my Empire has become, I no longer wish to serve it. I have just initiated the self-destruct countdown on the Star Destroyer Firestorm.”
The bridge uproar was more subdued this time, as if the crew were still stunned from her first mutinous action.
“The countdown is set. Warlord Harrsk’s ship is powerless and trapped within my deflector shields. Self-destruct will take place in fifteen standard minutes unless Harrsk issues an immediate command ordering all hostilities to cease.”
Seated in the cramped bridge station of the Victory-class Star Destroyer 13X, Vice Admiral Pellaeon studied this unexpected new development, both pleased and perplexed. His cap fit snugly against his gray hair. He tugged at his long pale mustache as he sifted through the implications of the broadband message.
If the enemy had continued its headlong surprise attack, the fleet of Imperial Star Destroyers would certainly have caused severe damage to High Admiral Teradoc’s fortress. Pellaeon’s Victory swarm could have mopped up the remaining ships, but only at great cost to themselves.
Now, though, the leader of this sudden and