The admiral’s plan called for their squadron to emerge from hyperspace well within range of Nar Shaddaa’s sensors.
Fel thought that assumption amounted to overconfidence, pure and simple.
And overconfidence was frequently a disaster in combat.
The worst problem, as far as Fel was concerned, was implementing order Base Delta Zero on Nar Shaddaa.
Fel knew that last wasn’t Greelanx’s fault. The Sector Moff had issued that order. But in the admiral’s place, Fel would have at least tried to get Sam Shild to modify that instruction. The Emperor’s directive had been to shut down the smuggling operations out of Nar Shaddaa and other smuggler nests, especially the gunrunners. The directive hadn’t included anything about razing the entire moon. Fel had had considerable combat experience, and he knew that sentients of most species would fight like cornered Corellian vrelts when it came to protecting their homes and families.
There were millions of sentients on Nar Shaddaa, many of whom were only peripherally involved with the smuggling business. Elderly sentients, children … Soontir Fel grimaced.
This would be his first Imperial-ordered massacre. He’d been lucky to avoid such an order for this long, the way things were going.
Fel would carry out his orders, but he wasn’t happy about them. He knew images of the flaming buildings would haunt him, as he gave each order to fire. And afterward … they’d have to send down shuttles and ground troops to mop up, and he, Fel, being a conscientious commander, would have to oversee that operation.
Visions of smoking rubble strewn with blackened corpses filled his mind, and Fel took a deep breath. Stop it, he ordered himself sternly.
There’s nothing you can do about it. Tormenting yourself over it serves no purpose …
As Fel watched, the Imperial Destiny suddenly accelerated strongly, then vanished from sight as it engaged its hyperdrive. Peacekeeper followed.
Fel was relieved to have something to do, anything to distract him from his thoughts. He glanced over at his navigator. “Course laid in, Commander?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Very well. Commander Rosk, prepare to make the jump to lightspeed, on my order.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fell watched the coordinates flash by on the navigational boards, then said, “Engage hyperdrive.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fel watched as the stars suddenly elongated, and there was, for the first time, a sensation of terrible velocity aboard the big ship.
The mission to wipe out Nar Shaddaa was under way.
Admiral Winstel Greelanx stood on the bridge of his own Dreadnaught, watching the star trails of hyperspace. The admiral had his own concerns about this mission, very different concerns from those felt by his captains, Reldo Dovlis and Soontir Fel.
Greelanx was aware that Fel did not think much of his planned strategy.
Dovlis was a less imaginative, older officer, content to follow orders without question, so Greelanx expected no problems with him. Fel, on the other hand … there could be problems there.
Greelanx sighed. If only this mission was as cut and dried as it appeared on the surface! Go to Nar Shaddaa, wipe out the wretched smugglers, and then blockade the Y’Toub system. But it was far from being that simple.
Less than a full day after Moff Shild had called him into his office on Teth to give Greelanx his marching orders, the admiral had received a message in the most secret Imperial code, sent “eyes only” under the tightest security to Greelanx’s personal comlink.
The secrecy code on this message had been so restrictive that the admiral hadn’t even dared to have it decoded by one of his staff, even his top administrative aide or secretarial droid. No, he’d laboriously sat down with a code key and translated the entire thing by himself, writing it out by hand onto a sheet of flimsy.
As directed, the admiral had kept no copies of the message, destroying the flimsy as soon as he was finished reading it through.
The admiral had checked and rechecked the codes, thinking there had to be some mistake. But they all checked out. This message came from the very highest echelons of Imperial Intelligence. Excomm was the branch of Imperial security that was answerable only to the Emperor himself, or to his top-ranking aide, Lord Vader.
Greelanx had never received such a message before in his career—and he had served over thirty years in the Navy.
He had memorized the message, and that was easy, for it had been short.
The message had read:
Admiral Winstel Greelanx, eyes only, destroy after reading. Regarding Nar Shaddaa/Nal Hutta engagement.
You are advised for the good of your Empire to engage the enemy and suffer a strategic defeat. Minimize Imperial losses, and withdraw in good order.