Alliances (Star Wars: Thrawn, #2)(116)

Whether a Chiss’s trust for a Sith Lord was a subtle insult wasn’t really the point. And Vader didn’t think any insult was intended, anyway. The Jedi had seen enough of Thrawn’s style and way of speaking to understand that that was simply how he was.

“Very well, Admiral,” he said. “TIE Four: Prepare to veer off. Defenders, prepare to raise shields and go to full speed.”

Bogey Two was looming ahead. This time the larger ship didn’t wait until the TIEs were nearly to their own range before opening fire. Their lasers lashed out—

“Veer off!” Vader snapped. “Evasive and attack. Defenders, mark gunports.”

Bogey Two fired again, and again, and again. The TIEs swept over and past, dodging the lasers and returning fire as best and as accurately as they could. Two more were hit, disintegrating into flaming debris. Vader gave the Grysks one more volley—

And as that final blaze of laserfire lanced out from the big ship, he finally had all the data he needed. “TIEs: Pull back,” he ordered. “Defenders: shields and full power. Go!” He keyed the shields and pulled the throttle all the way back.

A Dark Lord of the Sith never gasped in surprise. But if Vader had been anything else, he would have. Certainly The Jedi would have reacted as he was jammed back into his seat. Only in Vader’s prototype TIE Advanced x1 had he ever felt such power in a fighter before, or the incredible balance between speed and nimbleness. A laser burst blazed straight at him—

It sizzled into nothingness, its only effect being a brief wave of luminosity flickering around the edge of the Defender’s shield.

And with that, Vader knew they had won.

“All Defenders: Attack,” he ordered. “Clear out the gun emplacements. TIE Four, form up again and move into the spots we’ve cleared. Darkhawk, come in behind TIE Four: Concentrate on anything that looks like a cruiser or fighter hatch. If there are other enemy ships, I want them to remain inside.”

He took a deep breath, listening to the chorus of acknowledgments. The feel of a fighter; the thrill and burden and satisfaction of command…

But those were The Jedi’s memories. Not his.

Another laser bolt splashed off his shields. Arming a missile, he sent it into the center of the emplacement. A flare of fire and debris blew into space. He armed a second missile, chose his target, and fired.

And then, right at the edge of the Defender’s sensors, back behind the main Grysk warships, Vader spotted another ship: small, courier-sized, unlike any of the configurations he’d yet seen.

Doing its best to sneak away.

He looked back at the battle. Among the Chimaera, Darkhawk, Defenders, and standard TIEs, the Grysks were minutes from defeat, their defenses crumbling in front of him. From this point on, Vader and his fighter would neither add to nor detract from that inevitability.

Turning his Defender onto an intercept course, he set off in pursuit.

Someone from the Chimaera called his name, once, then a second, more urgent time. He ignored both hails. The mystery ship had spotted him now, but instead of turning to engage it increased its speed, heading toward deep space. The Defender slowly but steadily closed the gap…

But the timing was too short, the other ship’s lead too big. Long before Vader reached firing distance the ship escaped into hyperspace.

For a long moment, Vader gazed at the spot where it had disappeared, the possibilities and implications churning together through his mind. Then, turning the Defender around, he headed back toward the battle.

The Imperials would win the day…and then he and Thrawn would have a talk. A very long, very serious talk.



* * *



—

“Bogey Two fully engaged,” Faro reported. Her voice holds new confidence, and her stance holds eagerness. “Bogey One is pulling back.”

“Acknowledged, Commodore,” Thrawn said. “Move the Chimaera to attack Bogey One. Maintain distance from Bogey Two.”

“Because as long as the TIEs are attacking Bogey Two, they’re its main threat,” Faro murmured. Her voice holds understanding.

“Indeed,” Thrawn said. “You wondered earlier how we would defeat two ships nearly as large as ours. You now have an answer?”

“Yes, sir,” Faro said. Her voice holds grim anticipation. “We persuade them to let us take them on one at a time.”

“Very good,” Thrawn said. “Move the Chimaera into position, and commence attack.”

“Defender Four, there is an emplacement to starboard of the weapon Defender Six destroyed,” Vader’s voice came over the speaker. The voice is different, but it holds the same intensity and focus. The word patterns are different, but the cadence and intonation are the same. The brashness has abated, but the firm sense of loyalty is the same.

“Sir?” Faro asked tentatively.

“Yes, Commodore?”

“Sorry, sir.” Faro’s voice holds apology and concern. “The way you were looking out at Bogey One…are you all right, sir?”

“I am,” Thrawn said. “I was pondering the problem of mixed loyalties, and the decisions one must sometimes make. Lieutenant Lomar, hail the Grysks.”

“Yes, sir.” The comm officer’s voice holds no confusion or concern. But he is not as astute as Commodore Faro. “Ready, Admiral.”