[Black Fleet Crisis] - 02(32)

“The

holoprojector,”

Lobot interrupted. “Artoo can relay the signal from the imager.”

A few seconds later half the chamber was filled with the limpet’s wide-angle view of space outside the vagabond’s hull. The approaching ship was clearly visible to the extreme left of the projection, toward the bow.

“Imperial escort frigate,” Lando said immediately.

“The original KDY design, with the heavy stuff forward.

It looks like the gun ports are open, too.”

“Shouldn’t we signal it somehow, Master Lando?” asked Threepio.

“It’s not from our armada, Threepio,” said Lobot.

“The only signal I want to send that ship is a wave good-bye,” said Lando, reaching out and touching the wall of the chamber. “Come on, old lady, don’t wait around for an introduction.”

“Master Lando, Artoo says that there are two other ships approaching as well, but much farther away. Perhaps one of them is Glorious.”

“Not coming from that direction, it isn’t- - Oh, hell!”

The bow of the onrushing frigate had suddenly disappeared behind the yellow-white plasma bubble of an ion cannon burst. A fraction of a second later the holoprojection turned a crackling white, then disap peared. Artoo yelped unhappily. At the same time, the ship shuddered under them.

“The limpet’s been fried,” Lobot said, spinning in midair as he struggled to pull the lower half of his contact suit up over his legs.

“Artoo isn’t getting anything from it now.”

Lando pressed his palm against the wall, hoping to feel the tremor of a hyperspace jump beginning. “Of all the luck- - What’s going on?” he demanded. “Why is she waiting so long to jump?”

They fell silent as one, listening to the ship, hoping to hear her sinews groaning in protest as the jump engines punched her across into hyperspace, and fearing any sounds that might mean their journey would be ending here, a long way from home.

The captain of the cruiser Gorath was cursing the name of the captain of the frigate Bloodprice even before his ship’s forward scanners lit up with the glow of a battle begun. When he saw the frigate open fire on the strange vessel, his fury knew no bounds.

“I swear, this man will dig his own grave, and I will see his children bury him alive there,” the captain said with an icy venom. “He will hear his daughters screaming, his mother pleading, while his lungs fill with dirt and his eyes are ground blind by sand.”

They were too far away, the image too jumpy and coarse, to tell what effect Bloodprice’s barrage had had on its target. But they were close enough to witness what followed—together with the crew of Tobay, they were the only witnesses.

The great hull of the target brightened fore and aft, and something almost invisible struck out across the emptiness toward Bloodprice.

Seconds later, the frigate exploded with a ferocity that could only mean the ionization reactor had gone critical. It vanished from the sensor displays.

“Too quick for you,” the captain of the Gorath said coldly.

Meanwhile, the intruding vessel was turning away from the shattered hulk, away from Prakith and toward the Rim.

“Notify Tobay to prepare for hyperspace. Propulsion master, ready on my mark!” the captain cried out.

“We will erase this humiliation and capture this invader ourselves.”

A bright circle of light flared out around the vagabond.

“Now!” the captain screamed. “Match headings!

After them!”

The captain’s crew was well trained to his voice. Goratb jumped into hyperspace close enough behind the vagabond to be able to detect her quarry ahead by its soilton wake.

“We have them,” the captain said with grim satisfaction.

“Wherever they are going, we will be there.

They are ours.”

Colonel Pakkpekatt’s new orders read simply, MISSION TERMINATED EFFECTIVE YOUR RECEIPT THIS NOTICE.

BREAK OFF ALL OPERATIONS IMMEDIATELY. NRI OPERATIONS CENTER.

“This will not do,” he said, and swept out of his quarters. The threat ruffles blossoming down his back and the crimson expanse on his throat warned away any who might otherwise have tried to speak to him on his way to the bridge.

“Secure channel, isolation,” he said as he dropped his body into his combat lounge. The enclosing shell came forward from the back of the chair and closed him in. “NRI Operations Center, Coruscant, highest priority.”

It took several seconds for the hypercomm link to be made and verified.

“Operations,” said a briskly professional voice.

“Go ahead, Colonel Pakkpekatt.”

“I need to talk directly to General Rieekan.”