Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 21_ The Unifying Force - James Luceno [125]
“Contruum command requests an update on the situation at Mon Calamari,” a female voice at the other end of the transmission said.
“We’re holding our own,” Kre’fey said bluntly. “But I don’t know for how much longer. We’re still outnumbered, and the enemy is not falling for the usual tricks. It’s as even a match as I’ve seen this entire war. The only difference is that Warmaster Nas Choka is prepared to battle to the last, where I am not—and he knows that. He would sooner lose every ship than return to Coruscant in disgrace. I, on the other hand, have to decide when it becomes more prudent to be careful than foolishly brave.”
“Admiral,” the female voice said a long moment later, “Commander Farlander says that he regrets that he is not there to help you make that decision.”
Kre’fey grunted. “If it comes to opting for caution, we will adhere to our contingency plan to jump the fleets Rimward of Kubindi. We’re a lot more familiar with the hyperlanes in the spiral arm than Nas Choka is.”
The response was even longer in arriving.
“Should it come to that, Admiral, are the Yuuzhan Vong likely to press the attack against Mon Calamari in your absence?”
“There’s simply no telling. We’ll have to trust that their cell of spies on Mon Calamari reported that Alliance leadership has been evacuated, and that the planet is of no strategic value. Nas Choka doesn’t strike me as someone who would kill an animal once it has showed its belly—which is essentially what we’ll be doing. That he managed to chase us off will be sufficient reason for him to claim victory and retain his honor. It’s what he hoped we would do from the start—retreat and be chased.”
“Admiral!” the communications officer interrupted.
Following the officer’s lead, Kre’fey swiveled to the longdistance scanner display—and couldn’t believe his eyes.
The armada was tucking in its tentacles—recalling its legions of coralskippers, pickets, and frigates to their carriers.
“Enemy is preparing to jump to hyperspace,” a Bothan officer said from his duty station on the port side of the elliptical bridge.
Kre’fey came half out of the command chair in expectancy. “Order all starfighter wings to withdraw from engagement,” he shouted. “Home defense capital ships and Golan Defense Platforms will cease fire and divert all power to forward particle shields! Instruct General Antilles that Mon Mothma should join Dauntless at moon bright side.”
“The armada has jumped to lightspeed,” the Bothan updated. “Bearing … Coreward.”
Kre’fey dropped back into the command chair as if he had gained fifty kilos. “I don’t understand,” he muttered, with equal measures of relief and agitation.
Even if Nas Choka knew about Coruscant or Contruum, Intelligence would have assured him that the secondary flotilla by itself included more than enough vessels to thwart an attack. And why jump now, with the battle at Mon Calamari continuing to turn in the Yuuzhan Vong’s favor?
It could only be another deception.
He turned to the communications officer. “Send word to all warship and planet-based transceivers that the entire armada is now on the move. I want immediate reports on any reversions to realspace.”
The communications officer hurried for the comm board.
Mystified, Kre’fey sat staring out into space.
What in the galaxy just happened?
TWENTY-EIGHT
With the armada engaged in a climactic battle at the distant world of Mon Calamari, there was little for the occupants of Yuuzhan