Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 08_ Ascension - Christie Golden [145]
“Admiral, I hardly ever distress myself with such things.”
She took a deep breath and asked for a status report. The report was not grim, not yet, but it was unpleasant. Two frigates had taken damage, and one corvette had been destroyed. Several of the starfighters were reporting in with minimal damage. Still, this was only a minor setback when all was said and done. The remaining fighters, and there were still plenty, were holding their own against the Clawcraft fighters.
“Vansyn, Trevin—move in to assist with my starfighters,” she snapped. “Let’s take down these Chiss ships. We’ll show Jagged Fel just what the true Empire thinks of his little Empire of the Hand.”
“Of course, Admiral!” Vansyn’s voice was higher than normal and he sounded slightly worried, but one of the screens showed that several of his starfighters and four corvettes were already turning to obey her orders. Trevin’s vessels, on her other side, also moved into position.
Daala folded her arms and nodded, green eyes narrowing both against the brightness and in satisfaction as one Chiss starfighter exploded right before her eyes. Wherever Jagged Fel was right at the moment, she hoped he was watching it, too.
And then, on the edge of the screen’s image, there were more bright flashes of light, and Daala beheld a ghost from the past.
The vessel, at the head of at least another dozen ships, was another Star Destroyer, but smaller, and faster than many of the big capital ships. It immediately set to work targeting Vansyn’s ships, drawing their fire away from Getelles. Other vessels materialized, as well, and joined in the fray, but Daala couldn’t take her eyes off this one. She knew it … and felt a sudden strange pang as she recalled both the name of the ship and who had last commanded it.
The beasts for which the Star Destroyer had been named were semi-aquatic predators that could be trained as formidable mounts. They fought on after their riders were dead—as did this vessel.
“The Bloodfin,” she murmured. And, to herself, Pellaeon.
“This is Admiral Vitor Reige,” came a strong male voice. For a moment, in her dazed state, Daala thought it even sounded like a younger Gilad Pellaeon. “Admiral Daala—I am commander of the Bloodfin and of this Imperial strike force, led by the true Head of State, Jagged Fel. Your claim to that title is that of a usurper’s. Even so, Fel has instructed me to accept your surrender, with no further loss of life on either side. You have fifteen seconds to accept.”
What was happening? How was Fel managing to pull this off? Daala steadied herself, realizing that half of the battle that now raged around her was psychological—and that her realization meant that Fel had just lost his advantage. Fel was deft, she had to give him that. Coming back from the dead in so dramatic a fashion, producing the Empire of the Hand, and now sending the Bloodfin, surely hand-picked to rattle her.
And it had. All of it.
Her jaw set. Well, she wouldn’t let him rattle her an instant longer. The numbers against her seemed to be increasing with each passing minute, but even so, she would still win.
Nonetheless—
“Send a message to Moffs Wolbam, Calron the Younger, and Malvek,” she told the Sullustan communications officer. “Tell them to divert at once from the original rendezvous point and direct reinforcements here as soon as possible. The first Moff to arrive will receive my special thanks.” She hoped they would not be needed, but even so, it would be worth it to show Jagged Fel just what he was up against.
“Your time is up,” came the oddly Pellaeon sounding voice, and the viewport was filled once again with red and green streaks of laser fire as fighting began on a third front.
“Moff Trevin reports in that his flagship has taken damage, and he’s lost half of his fleet,” Remal said.
“Tell him to evacuate and head for the Chimaera,” Daala said. She was not close to the man, but his flagship was