Star Wars_ The Jedi Academy Trilogy 02_ Dark Apprentice - Kevin J. Anderson [20]
Yet because of the Emperor’s own prejudices against women and nonhuman races, Tarkin had kept the truth about his new admiral a secret. Daala and Tarkin had become lovers, and to keep her from coming to the Emperor’s attention, he had given her command of four Star Destroyers assigned to guard the supersecret think tank inside the black hole cluster.
But now that she had come out with her battleships, ready to devastate any planet loyal to the Rebellion, Daala could not conceive of handing over that authority to her former persecutors on Carida.
She took a deep breath again and faced Commander Kratas. He stood without moving, still waiting for her response. Around the bridge other crew members looked up from their stations; but when Daala glanced at them, they quickly found other things to do.
“Since the factions seem to have forgotten that our true enemy is the Rebellion, I think we will set an example for them. We must focus their attention on the appropriate enemy—the Rebels who killed Grand Moff Tarkin, who destroyed the Death Star, who murdered the Emperor. Since Grand Admiral Thrawn was the only person in the Imperial fleet with a rank higher than my own, I must assume that my rank is now at least as high as any of the pretenders.”
Kratas’s eyes widened, but Daala shook her head. Her long hair swirled like flickering flames. “No, Commander, I have no intention of putting in my bid for what is left of the Empire. That’s not a job I would relish. We’ll leave that to the petty dictators. I just want to cause damage. Lots of it.”
Her lips curled in a snarl, and her voice grew husky. “I think our best chance is to rely on hit-and-run tactics, guerrilla warfare. We have three Star Destroyers. That’s enough to wipe out the civilizations on any number of worlds. We must hit fast and run fast. We will continue to pound the Rebels for as long as we can.”
She glanced around the bridge to see that all personnel stood staring at her, some with wide eyes and gaping mouths, others grinning. Her crew had been bottled up for so long in the Maw, ready to fight but denied any chance at action because they were forced to guard the group of prima donna weapons scientists.
Daala glanced out at the Cauldron Nebula, saw the bright lights of other star systems piercing the haze of ionized gas. Many targets waited out there.
She turned to the navigator’s station. “Lieutenant, I want you to plot a course for the last-known shipping lanes closest to our position.”
“Yes, Admiral,” the lieutenant said, practically leaping toward his station.
“Inform all personnel on the three ships,” Daala said. A bold grin lit her face; she felt as if her blood had become molten copper. Her green eyes seemed to sparkle with laser bolts ready to be fired on unsuspecting prey.
The fight was about to begin.
“Let’s go hunting,” Daala said, and a spontaneous cheer erupted from the bridge crew.
Deep in space, the pack of Imperial Star Destroyers waited, sensors alert and scanning for the ripples of approaching ships. They hung at a hyperspace node on the far end of the Corellian Trade Spine, where all ships bound for Anoat or Bespin or other planets along the line would drop out of hyperspace to recalibrate their course and set off on a new vector.
Daala paced the Gorgon’s bridge, keeping her gaze moving, watching her personnel as they waited. Waited. Her scrutiny kept them on edge, nervous, intent on performing flawlessly. She was proud of her crew. She felt confident that they could wrench a proud victory from the Rebel scum.
One of the lieutenants straightened at his sensor console. “Admiral! Fluctuations indicate a ship arriving in hyperspace. Tracking … it’s coming through.”
Daala snapped commands. “Full alert. Instruct Basilisk and Manticore to power up their turbolaser batteries.”
Commander Kratas whirled from his station to delegate tasks.