Daala was conspicuous. She didn’t seem to care. By now, word of her arrival in port would have reached some of the Moffs, and those who weren’t immediately panicking or huffing with outrage would at least be asking why she was back. Pellaeon escorted her through Bloodfin’s decks as if she were a routine visitor, showing her the most interesting aspects of the Turbulent-class design; the young crew had no idea who she was, but some of the veteran Moffs would recognize her, and all would know the name Daala.
Pellaeon didn’t have to tell them about the assets she was ready to contribute to the Empire. If some Moffs were already being wooed by the GA before he was formally told a deal was on the table, then Jacen would get to hear what Daala’s role might be. Pellaeon wanted his tactical surprise if he needed it.
“Are you serious about killing Moffs, Daala?”
“Yes, “she said, admiring a spotless cannon bay that gleamed. She ran her hand over a bulkhead and followed the curved line of the cannon housing. “Because they killed Liegeus. When I work out the full list of who was behind it, then I’ll call them to account. Today I’m here for you, and, to a lesser extent, for the Empire.”
“Oh…. I’m so very sorry. So very sorry.” Liegeus Vorn had been her first love, a pilot-something of a rogue, to be frank-and when Daala had retreated to Pedducis Chorios after yet another spectacular escape from a lost battle, she had found him again. The lovers had been separated for years. It was upliftingly romantic, the promise of rediscovered happiness that every broken heart secretly longed for. “How, and when?”
“A thermal detonator. I’ve waited five years to pursue the matter.”
Daala collected enemies. It went with the job. Her patience was frightening. “Is this how you acquired your eye injury?”
“I still don’t know if he was the main target, to spite me, or if he was collateral damage in an attempt on my life, “Daala said, seeming to ignore the question. “I shall find out when I identify all the conspirators, and I’ll make sure it takes some painful time. Then I’ll have my eye repaired properly, but not before that day, so that I don’t forget.”
It didn’t bode well for the Empire that its new ally was still at war with some-perhaps most-of its leaders. The Moffs had always been ferociously hostile, initially because she was a woman, and later because she was Daala, and she did not suffer fools or less talented officers gladly. They were going to regret it now. It was their own fault. She never forgot, forgave, or gave up.
“Had I known, I wouldn’t have disturbed you.” He put his hand gently on her back to steer her this way and that. They were approaching the portside brow again, and an officer of more mature years did a double take, a real head-turn followed by slightly parted lips. Pellaeon met his eyes, and it was clear that he thought he knew who she was. “Just be aware that some of the Moffs are a little more enlightened these days, and you might even find them helpful. A powerful woman doesn’t send them screaming to defend their manly territory. Lecersen, for one. The new breed.”
“I’ll make a note of his name, and leave him intact, “she said.
“I’ll pick my moment, but I’ll inform the Moffs that you are officially back on active service, and advising me.” “Yes, the word fleet would start panic…” “Might scare Fondor into compliance, of course.” “Let’s keep it as our little secret.” Daala took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it. “You keep a secure comlink open to me at all times, you tell me as early as possible when you plan to jump, and I promise I will be there in minutes.” “Minutes.”
“I have a marshaling area in mind. One final short hyperspace jump. Trust me.”
The brow security detail watched her stride down the gangway onto the jetty. Pellaeon estimated that the news of her visit would be all around Ravelin within three hours. The commander who’d turned ashen on seeing her walked up to Pellaeon and almost stood to attention. “Sir, is that who I think it is?”
“The older sister of my unruly children, “said Pellaeon. He felt a little urge for a joke at the man’s expense. “Do you think it might be time to have our first female Moff?”
The commander was wisely lost for words. Pellaeon was pretty sure that Daala was happier being an admiral, but it was an amusing idea nonetheless. He smiled all the way back to his cabin, where he sat down to await the latest intelligence report.
Daala hadn’t asked about Niathal. She must have known the Mon Cal admiral’s situation, though. It was as if everyone had separated the two GA Chiefs of Staff into the mys-tic in black who might turn rabid, and the sensible naval officer in white with whom they could do business, even if-in the Moffs’ minds, anyway-she was inconveniently female.