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Leia’s immediate need was too great for pleasantries. “Ackbar,” she said, “the Imperials have learned the location of Anoth. Winter and baby Anakin are in grave danger at this very moment. You must take us to them right away. You’re the only one who knows the location.”

Ackbar stood in shock, and Terpfen broke away from his embrace. “I have betrayed us, Admiral,” he said. “I have betrayed us all.”

Working hard to appear useful and important, Ambassador Furgan stood on the control deck of the Dreadnaught Vendetta. As they came out of hyperspace and approached the planet Anoth, he stepped forward. “Shields up,” he said.

“Already done, sir,” Colonel Ardax answered from the command station. Ardax wore a crisp olive-gray Imperial-navy uniform with his cap firmly planted on his short-trimmed hair. He drew in a deep breath to broaden his shoulders.

Throughout the journey to Anoth the colonel had annoyed Furgan by making decisions for himself without asking for input. Ardax was altogether too independent for Furgan’s tastes. True, Furgan was merely the administrative head of the Caridan military academy—former military academy, now that the Rebel terrorist Kyp Durron had destroyed it—but he was still the most important person on this entire ship; his opinion should be valued.

He still thought of the roaring explosion of Carida’s star, the echoed screams of those low-ranking individuals and all the valuable equipment he had left behind. Furgan’s glorious dreams of resurrecting the Empire had dwindled to a point—but it was a laser-bright point. If he could just get his hands on the Jedi baby, there would be hope for the galaxy once more.

The Vendetta passed through a broken belt of asteroids scattered along Anoth’s orbit. The planet itself had shattered into three components: two large chunks in contact, scraping and creating static discharges so that titanic lightning bolts blasted between them; farther out circled a smaller, misshapen rock that held a breathable atmosphere in its lowlands. In a century or two the three chunks would pulverize each other to space dust, but at the moment Anoth was a hidden and protected haven.

Until now.

“Looks like a rather … rugged place to raise an infant,” Colonel Ardax said.

“It’ll toughen him up,” Furgan said, “an appropriate beginning to the rigorous training he will undergo if he is to be our new Emperor.”

“Ambassador Furgan,” Ardax asked, raising his eyebrows, “do you have any indication of exactly where we should look for this alleged stronghold?”

Furgan thrust out his purplish lower lip. The spy Terpfen had provided the planet’s coordinates, nothing more. “You can’t expect me to do your entire job for you, Colonel,” he snapped. “Use the Dreadnaught’s scanners.”

“Yes, sir.” The colonel gestured toward the technicians at the analysis and sensor panels.

“We’ll find it, sir,” a wide-eyed corporal said, staring at a screen that showed a simplified computer diagram of the Anoth system’s three components. “There’s not much down there, so it shouldn’t be hard to pick them out.”

Furgan stumped to the turbolift at the rear of the control deck. “Colonel, I’m going down to inspect the MT-AT vehicles. I trust you can handle everything here without me?”

“Yes, sir,” Ardax said, a bit too emphatically.

As the turbolift swallowed him, Furgan thought he heard a muttered comment from the Dreadnaught captain, but the words were cut off by the closing metal doors.…

Down in the Vendetta’s hangar bay and staging area Furgan stepped into a flurry of stormtrooper activity. White-armored troopers jogged in tight formation across the metal-plated floor, carrying weapons, stashing siege gear and power packs inside the cargo holds of the MT-ATs.

On Carida, Furgan had followed the design and development of the new Mountain Terrain Assault Transports, and he relished the opportunity to see them used in actual combat. He would follow in the rear of the assault, letting fully trained troopers