[Black Fleet Crisis(48)

At the time theGnisnal intelligence reached him, Ayddar Nylykerka was the Asset Tracking office. Starting out as a researcher, he had moved up to cataloger when no one else had seemed to want the job, and had added the analyst’s hat when the office’s last licensed analyst had been reassigned. For more than seven years he had carried the burden alone. He had the smallest cubicle in the Threat Assessment section, no more than a box with a door. To go with the absence of creature comforts, he also had no staff, no status or perks, and no contacts to tell him where file AK031995 had come from.

Ayddar Nylykerka did not know about the evacuation of Narth and Ipotek, the destruction of theGnisnal , or the discoveries of theSteadfast .

He had never heard of Captain Oolas, Norda Proi, Jarse Motempe, or any of the others whose work had brought the file to him. He was not aware that outside his cubicle walls he was considered laughably humorless and harmlessly obsessive.

But he knew his job, which had not changed since the office had been established to inventory and determine the status of every warship known to the New Republic and not under the control of the New Republic.

And he knew that in the entire history of the Asset Tracking office, it had never before had available to it what he now had before him—a complete Imperial order of battle.

It was all there. Every warship, by name, class, callsign, and commander, assigned to every fleet and combat command. Every fighter, interceptor, bomber, and assault squadron posted to every SD, SSD, carrier, and Dreadnaught, with squadron strengths detailed.

Every stormtrooper company and infantry battalion assigned to every transport, occupation force, outpost, and fort. Every cripple in a drydock and every keel in a shipyard, with projected repair and completion dates. Even the second-tier vessels allocated to training commands were included.

The datestamp on the file was more than ten years old, but it was still a treasure beyond price. The order of battle encompassed information far beyond that which ordinary ship captains and task force commanders would have at their disposal, information that only a ranking sector commander or the Emperor’s own military aides would possess.

And that made Ayddar Nylykerka suspicious-suspicious enough to spend the next several hours trying to show that the file was a fraud, a late-discovered Imperial disinformation trick.

When he could not do so, he called his wives and told them not to expect him that night.

Then he threw himself into the real task before him—finding something in AK031995 to justify the last seven years of his professional life, something to remind everyone in the Fleet Command that the Asset Tracking office existed for a reason. Having authenticated the order of battle with his highest-confidence intelligence, he put his faith behind it, certain that he would never have such an opportunity again.

As he studied the data, the unofficial motto of the Intelligence Section lingered in his mind: As dangerous as what we don’t know are the things we “know” that aren’t so.

Ayddar Nylykerka did not leave his desk for three days. When at last he did, it was not to go home. With his datapad tucked tightly under his arm, he ordered an airspeeder from the pool and headed for Victory Lake.

The Coruscant home of Admiral Ackbar was made up of two squat off-white cylinders. One cylinder, windowless, rose from the grassy shore of Victory Lake. The other, half transparisteel, rose from the tranquil blue water. They were linked by a third cylinder, a long, slender shape that enclosed a second-story skywalk. A graceful single-seat Calamari water skimmer was moored to a pylon in the lake.

Ayddar’s Fleet ID was enough to get him past the guardpost at the security perimeter, though he was obliged to surrender his datapad for screening, then park the airspeeder and walk up to the house. There he presented himself at the entrance to the lakeshore cylinder.

“Ayddar Nylykerka, chief analyst of the Asset Tracking

office, Intelligence Section, Fleet Command, to see Admiral Ackbar. “

A few seconds later the curved door flashed open with a hiss to reveal a Fleet valet droid. Folding its arms across its chest, it seemed to take up the whole doorway. “Analyst, Admiral Ackbar doesn’t see anyone below the rank of commodore when he’s home, ” the droid said. “He spends enough time out of water as it is. Call his office in the morning and ask for an appointment. “

Ayddar stared disbelievingly. “You don’t understand. This is important. “

“Then it’s important enough to disturb your immediate superior first, ” the droid said. “Run it up through channels. The admiral will consider it if and when it reaches his desk. “

“No, ” Ayddar said stubbornly. He tried to look beyond the droid into the house, but all he saw was the inner door of the security lock.