Star Wars_ Darksaber - Kevin J. Anderson [64]
“Here we are, Admiral.” Colonel Cronus flicked the hyperspace controls that dropped them back into the normal universe. Blackness washed around them, and the distant sun appeared as a bright point at the center of the system. Other than that, space was dark around the armored transport.
Then Daala noticed a blot as she stared, an enormous shadow that eclipsed the stars. It seemed to be kilometers long and grew larger as they approached.
Cronus fiddled with the comm system and transmitted a recognition code. “Power up,” he said to some unknown listener. “Let’s make a good display.”
Daala squinted out the viewport, and suddenly she saw a whirlwind of tiny lights appear, marking deck after deck on a breathtakingly huge ship. The immense wedge-shaped shadow was a single vessel, larger than anything she had ever seen before.
“I can’t believe it,” Pellaeon said beside her. “Only the Executor was this big—and that one ship practically bankrupted the Empire.”
“What is it?” Daala asked.
Cronus smiled, his expressive face showing his obvious enjoyment at her reaction—but it was Pellaeon who answered. “It’s a Super Star Destroyer,” he said.
Cronus nodded eagerly. “Worth twenty Imperial Star Destroyers,” he said, his eyes flashing with pride. “It is eight kilometers long, can carry a crew of up to a hundred thousand—and is plated with stealth armor. That’s why it appeared as only a black shadow as we approached. Though gigantic, it is virtually invisible to enemy forces.”
He lowered his voice as if imparting a precious secret. “We named it the Night Hammer.”
Daala’s eyes shone with wonder, and her breath came shallow and fast as Cronus directed the armored transport to the open bay of the Super Star Destroyer. Daala could not restrain herself and stood from her seat, waiting behind the colonel. She leaned forward, unable to tear her eyes from the beauty of the black Night Hammer.
“That will be my ship,” she whispered.
CORUSCANT
CHAPTER 21
Inside the cavernous Imperial palace, Leia Organa Solo and her family wore nondescript civilian clothes, stopping at a pleasant café to eat their lunch like normal citizens. It felt good to be out of uniform where Leia could pretend to be invisible—though she knew that private bodyguards, professional protectors, and crack sharpshooters followed at a comfortable distance, monitoring her every movement. Leia resented the interference—but she also knew after many attempts on her own life or on her family, she couldn’t afford to grow careless. Too much was at stake.
Han carried Anakin against his side, and the young boy clasped small hands around his father’s neck. “Come on, kids, there’s a table over here,” he said. The energetic twins raced to be the first to reach the empty seats.
Chewbacca let loose a long yowl, insisting that the kids slow down and be careful—but they ignored the big Wookiee.
“If you would simply allow me to handle this, I’m sure they would behave,” Threepio said. Chewbacca flashed his fangs at the golden droid. “Really, Chewbacca! There’s absolutely no call for such displays.”
Artoo-Detoo whistled, but Threepio didn’t bother to respond. The golden droid carried two trays of food, while Chewbacca hefted his own mounded high with dripping meat.
Their group chose a table at the edge of a towering balcony. Mists rose around it, generated from vaporizers in the synrock walls. Trickling fountains traced rivulets of water down the dozens of stories to an open plaza enclosed within the pyramidal palace.
Threepio and Chewbacca set their trays on the table, but the twins rushed to the edge barricade, standing on their tiptoes to peer far below.
“Look at the people!” Jaina said. “They’re so tiny.”
“Can I throw something down?” Jacen asked, looking around for any object to toss over the edge.
“No, you may not,” Leia said.
“But Jaina’s going to,” the boy responded.
“No, she isn’t,” Leia repeated with a sterner tone.
“No, I’m not!” Jaina said.
“Come on, sit down,” Han said, settling Anakin into a chair.
Around them the rustle of thousands of