[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(81)

Daala and Niathal would have a great deal to discuss if they ever met.

Pellaeon poured a small measure of syrspirit, dark as tar-wood varnish, and splashed a little water into it. He raised the glass in a private toast.

“To ladies on the bridge, “he said, “and gentlemen gone below.”



THIRD FLEET STATION: OPS ROOM, FLEET HQ.

“Admiral?”

Niathal was aware of the young lieutenant waiting at her elbow. Nimbanese, a rare sight in the fleet, made excellent support staff, and this one was a CVO-a Casualty Visiting Officer.

It was a neutral, detached title for someone whose job was to give next of kin the worst possible news.

“Admiral….”

Niathal turned. “Apologies, Lieutenant. Did you want me?”

“Ma’am, the minelayer squadron-I’m making a personal visit to the base. Is there anything you want me to do outside the normal arrangements?”

Congratulations, Admiral. You got a hundred of your own people killed before they even had time to take defensive action. That’s what happens when you leak operational details.

“They’re all from the same area, I understand.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The lieutenant kept glancing at her datapad, and when Niathal caught sight of the screen it was a blur of text, a table of short lines. Names. “The squadron is a small and tight-knit community, as they often are in specialist units. It’s a large number of casualties for them in a single engagement. We’ll be offering extra support.”

Extra support. It was hygienic, unemotional language, which was the only real alternative to disruptive outpour-ings of emotion. There were thousands of dead in this war so far. Niathal had learned to accept that very early in her career, but today she was looking at her own handiwork, a datapad screen of information that had left her hand and had come back to haunt her as a list of names, real beings, real families-her own doing. Officers took decisions knowing that some crew members wouldn’t return, but this was totally new and shocking.

What did you think would happen to the information you gave Luke Skywalker? What did he think would happen?

Did you think Fondor would just send vessels to scare the minelayers away? A few shots across the bow?

They blew them out of the sky. As you would have done.

It was always the small, stark incidents that became the pivots that changed everything. They were on a scale that an individual being could comprehend, like Captain Nevil’s son Turl, or Lieutenant Tebut. Niathal gave up examining the continuum of blame-inevitable combat deaths, deaths caused by having to sacrifice a mission for a more critical one, deaths caused by incompetence-because there was only one category left beneath hers, callous and underhanded tactics, and that was personally taking a sub-ordinate’s life.

That would put her in the sewer currently occupied by Jacen Solo.

I spied for the enemy. The families of those crews won’t be any the less bereaved for knowing that I gave intelligence to a decent, honest Jedi to thwart the plans of a little tyrant ready to do anything, expend anyone, to win some ill-defined war on chaos.

“Tell them I’m sorry, “Niathal said at last. “Give them my personal and sincere apologies.”

“Very good, ma’am.”

Niathal had to make an effort to get her attention back on the status boards and charts in the darkened ops room. The elements of the Fourth Fleet that Jacen had deployed were one hour into the operation and should have been sitting out a blockade. Now the task force was exposed, the Fondorians knew it was there, and Jacen’s options were to abort, to attack, or to hold position while a new strategy was cobbled together.

Battles went awry of plans all the time. But not like this. She had waited long enough at the comlink.

“Colonel Solo, “she barked. “Will you talk to me now, or not?”

She had holovid and audio between Ops and the Anakin Solo. The holding screen shivered and Jacen appeared, standing with his hands clasped behind his back in front of the bank of weapons sensor consoles.

“Admiral, we have an intelligence leak.”

Keep your nerve. “I realize that. What are your immediate plans? We have reports that Fondor is sitting tight and expecting an attack.”

“I realize that.”

“This might be the time to reopen talks now you have their attention.”

“We’ve lost the advantage of locking them in.” Jacen was totally calm. For a moment, Niathal was distracted by the arrival of Captain Piris in the ops room; another Quarren, the commanding officer of Bounty. Niathal didn’t share the common Mon Cal wariness of Quarren, and now felt an increasing bond with them that was only partly due to their common homeworld. They seemed more resolutely honest in the face of Jacen’s growing eccentricity than most humans. “Admiral, I plan to begin simultaneous attacks on four orbitals spaced around the planet, draw out their fleet, and neutralize it.”