Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 08_ Ascension - Christie Golden [19]
“Sir?” prodded Annax. “They’re close to being within firing range. The other frigates are demanding orders. What do you wish us to do?”
He made his choice.
We will come, he thought, and felt Ship agree.
Follow me. Then the strange construct that was Ship withdrew from his mind, and Khai felt suddenly empty.
“Shields up. We stand with Abeloth,” he said. “Ship—”
“—is sending coordinates,” blurted Annax as numbers crawled over her screen.
“Follow them! Tell all vessels to retreat!”
The Black Wave suddenly rocked as she was fired upon. Khai glanced at the small screen in the captain’s chair and saw two small blips representing ChaseMaster frigates flare, and then vanish.
“Return fire!” he ordered. At once the frigate dived, firing, and Khai had the satisfaction of seeing one of the attacking vessels blown into small bits. His faint smile faded somewhat. Who had been in that vessel? Someone he knew, doubtless; there were not so many Sith in the Lost Tribe fleet that he would not at least recognize the name.
They were the enemy now. He closed the door on any regret he might have felt, however fleeting. “Attention, Abeloth’s fleet,” he said, and there was no going back from that statement. “We are under attack by the Lost Tribe of the Sith. Coordinates to our next destination have been downloaded to each of your vessels. We will rendezvous there. Any vessel that does not retreat to those coordinates, and does not immediately attack those from Kesh who have now chosen to become our adversaries, will be deemed a traitor and fired upon accordingly.”
He closed the channel. “Tola, is everyone changing course?”
“Negative, sir, the Dark Dancer is still stationary.”
“Hail them.” She did so. “Black Wave to Dark Dancer, why are you not moving to the coordinates I have given you?”
Silence.
“Destroy it,” Khai ordered. “They have chosen poorly.”
She glanced up at him. “Sir, the Dark Dancer suffered a hit. They may not be choosing to disobey. The damage could have rendered them unable to move, or affected their communications systems.”
“Then that is their bad fortune, and the Force is not with them this day,” Khai replied. “I cannot take the risk of anyone under my command turning against us. Obey my order, Annax, or else I may deem you a traitor, as well.”
Her eyes widened slightly, then she squared her broad shoulders.
“Yes, Captain.”
Gavar Khai watched, cold and unflinching, as the Dark Dancer went from being an intact, if damaged, vessel, to being nothing more than flotsam, jetsam, and pieces of once-living flesh.
The ship rocked again. “Annax, make that jump to hyperspace,” Khai growled.
“Trying, sir, but I—”
“Do not try. Do it.”
Her fingers flew. A third explosion made the Black Wave tremble, and he could see the console light up with reports of casualties from all over the ship.
And then, blessedly, the white pricks of light that were stars stretched out, elongated into lines, and they were gone.
GAVAR KHAI SAGGED AGAINST THE BACK OF THE COMMAND CHAIR, closing his eyes for a moment.
They had escaped. He winced slightly as he realized he had used the word to describe leaving his homeworld—the place that had birthed and trained him.
“Saber Khai?”
He didn’t answer Tola Annax at once, as another realization shook him to his core. He would never become a Lord now. He had just severed all ties to everything he had ever known, and he was now a traitor. He swallowed, reaching into the Force to compose himself and find some measure of calm.
“Yes, Annax?”
“We won’t be able to go back, will we?” Her normally sharp eyes were distant, her broad shoulders set, as if she were already carving out her future actions.
“No, we will not,” he said, as if he himself had not wrestled with the same feelings that were now clearly occupying Tola. “We have made our choice. We were sent to subdue Abeloth, but she has proven too strong for us. We returned to