[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(109)

“What are you doing?” Jacen’s voice wasn’t his usual controlled facade of irritating reason, as if he were explaining something to the very dim. He sounded as if he’d been woken up from a deep sleep, and was annoyed about it. “You can’t stop now.”

“I’ve accepted Fondor’s surrender. They’ve stood down their ships. Unless you can render aid to the planet right now, Jacen, withdraw, and return to the assembly area.”

“We broke through.” He paused. “I broke through.” She could hear him snapping orders at someone, and it seemed to be a demand to find out why his ships had obeyed her order to cease fire. So he was on his own now. “I will not accept this. We have to seize our advantage. You’re letting them regroup.”

“They’ve surrendered, Jacen, and we’ve all got pretty much the same rules of engagement across the civilized galaxy - surrender means cease fire.”

Niathal wasn’t just obeying interplanetary conventions, of course. The Fondorian fleet hadn’t gone home and dis-armed: it was there, nose-to-nose with her ships, and could start the battle again at a moment’s notice. Fondor had everything to lose, but the GA had ships at stake, too. They’d already lost half the Fifth Fleet recently, and Fondor was not the only enemy.

“I refuse to stand down, “Jacen said. “I intend to carry on fighting.” There was a pause. “Nevil? Where’s the captain? Find him. I’ll have him…”

Niathal had no other option, but it was one she felt al-most glad to take. There was an inevitable cleanliness about it.

“Colonel Solo, “she said, “if you don’t honor the cease-fire, I’m relieving you of duty. An admiral outranks a colonel, remember, and I will order your ship to be disabled.”

There was another pause. She’d never expected him to say yes, ma’am, anyway.

“I don’t recognize your authority.”

“Stand down, Colonel.”

“All GA vessels, this is your Chief of State ordering you to fight on. All Imperial vessels-under the terms of our agreement, I insist that you rejoin the battle.”

Niathal was being carried along by events, but the next words that left her mouth were going to seal many fates. Could the Imperial ships even hear Jacen? “All GA vessels, Colonel Solo is relieved of duty.” Poor Captain Nevil; he was in the worst position of all. He’d have to take over the Anakin. She had a sudden cold splash of realization that she should have had before she got on that comm. If Jacen could breach a planet’s shield with his influence, there probably wasn’t much that his crew could do to defy him. She was faced with the real possibility of having to shoot down the Anakin Solo.

Down.

There was no up or down in space, but she still had a feeling of falling.

And where was Nevil?

On the chart, a battle group of amber icons began to move toward Fondor. Some of the Imperial commanders had heard and heeded him, at least.

Pellaeon’s voice boomed over the bridge comm. “The Imperial fleet will withdraw immediately, and respect the cease-fire. Wyvern battle group, resume your position at once.’” The amber icons slowed to a halt. “We now take our instructions solely from Admiral Niathal.”

“Ma’am, “said the comm officer, hovering at her elbow, “Shas Vadde’s defense secretary is on the comlink, asking what you expect her to do if the Anakin Solo opens fire again.”

The Anakin Solo was silent. She could only imagine what was happening on that bridge. And no Fondorian ship could be expected to sit and take Jacen’s barrage to preserve a cease-fire.

“Tell her I won’t regard self-defense as a breach, “she said. “But if Jacen Solo opens fire first, then I’ll have to take him out.”



IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER BLOODFIN, OFF FONDOR: COMMAND CENTER

“This beggars belief, “Moff Rosset said. “The GA’s falling apart in front of our eyes.” He rapped his knuckles angrily on the transpariplast screen showing the positions of ships. “This is their highest level of command and political decision making, screeching at one another in the middle of a battlefield, about to slug it out. And we’re committing Imperial citizens’ lives to defend their interests? In the hope they’ll keep their promises? Are we mad?”

Pellaeon considered what he’d do in Niathal’s position, because he was walking a knife-edge himself. Grand Moffs and some leaders of the Council cliques had gathered in Bloodfin to pick over the warm remains at this bizarre half-time interval. Pellaeon knew that some of the Moffs would rather obey Jacen, but they’d seen sense at the last minute.