Star Wars_ Death Star - Michael Reaves [84]
“I’m not too worried about pirates with knives, Jaim.”
“You should be, son,” the grizzled old admiral said. “You should be worried about everything.”
ADMIRAL MOTTI’S LIGHTER, TWO HUNDRED KILOMETERS OFF UNDAUNTABLE’S PORT STERN
Did the old man have a valid point? Motti wondered. It was hard to see how. The Death Star was a true Dread-naught, a giant among midgets. Of course, just about every fable about giants tended to end with the midgets triumphing somehow. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea, once he was back on board, to order a detailed inspection of the superstructure and the plans. Maintenance would howl, but that didn’t matter. After all, Motti hadn’t gotten to his rank by assuming everything was as it should be. Like as not the old man was just being paranoid. But in situations like these, with the fate of the galaxy literally riding on the outcome, it was hard to be too paranoid …
Motti was still musing about Helaw’s story when the Star Destroyer Undauntable suddenly ceased to be the oldest ship of the line in the quadrant behind him.
In a brilliant, silent white-hot blast the Undauntable blew apart.
39
COMMAND DECK, OVERBRIDGE, DEATH STAR
“You were there,” Tarkin said.
“I didn’t blow it up,” Motti replied.
Tarkin silently counted to ten. Behind him, at a discreet distance, Daala stood, pretending not to hear their conversation.
“What could have happened?”
“It could have been an accident,” Motti said.
“You don’t really think that.”
“No more than you do, sir. Admiral Helaw was as good as any commander in the Imperial Navy and better than most. I cannot imagine an accident of this magnitude would happen on a ship he ran.”
“The Undauntable was an old ship.”
“Even so.”
Tarkin nodded. “I’m afraid I agree.” He paused. “It would be better if it had been an accident.”
Motti said nothing, but Tarkin knew the man was no fool. He understood.
“Darth Vader’s recent visit was supposed to have eliminated the threat of sabotage,” Tarkin continued.
“So I understand. Apparently it did not.”
“If that is the case, we could, I expect, depend on another visit from Vader in short order. Not the worst thing that could happen to us, but certainly another burden we don’t need, with sprawl construction nearly complete.”
“One would expect such a visit, yes.”
“Whereas if there was an accident, on an old ship—a leaky hypermatter containment valve, perhaps … that would be unfortunate, but understandable, and there would be no need for the Emperor’s representative to come all the way out here again.”
Motti frowned deeper. “It would be a shame, however, for such an ‘accident’ to be laid at the feet of Jaim Helaw, whose memory would forever bear that blot on his otherwise perfect record.”
“It would be a shame. However, with Jaim dead, that won’t really bother him, will it? And he had no family.”
Motti said, “The navy was his family.”
“Just so. And Jaim was loyal to the bone. He would not wish his ‘family’ to suffer, would he?”
Motti didn’t like it, that was plain, but Motti was also a loyalist. There was no need for Tarkin to remind him of his duty. The admiral nodded, a crisp, military motion. “So, then: an unfortunate accident, and a single black mark on an otherwise brilliant career.”
“Unfortunate, indeed,” Tarkin replied. “And we all move on.”
After Motti was gone, Daala moved over to stand next to Tarkin. “Isn’t this a bit risky?”
“Not really. Motti is ambitious, and he knows this station is his transport to greatness. He’ll be promoted to Moff as soon as the Rebels are vanquished, and it would be foolish for him to raise a fuss about this. He liked the old man—I was rather fond of him myself—but nothing we can say or do will bring him back, and better that his death serves us rather than gets in our way. So, it was a terrible accident. These things happen.”
She nodded. “But that doesn’t solve the problem entirely, does it?”
He sighed. “You are quite right,