Part 26 (2/2)
There.
He was back in reals.p.a.ce and the Anakin Solo was visi-ble in a constellation of frigates, cruisers, landing craft, car-riers, and ten Star Destroyers.
Niathai's Third Fleet-a task force, but it was conve-nient to think of them in separate fleet terms, because they were not all one happy navy, not by a long shot-would need to keep the planet's defenses occupied while he cap-tured the orbitals. The Imperial Remnant would need to prowl the outer boundary, alert for the return of the Fondorian navy.
Caedus felt he'd planned it well enough. Even Niathal's outburst and insistence on rus.h.i.+ng here to show him how to do it properly fell elegantly into the battle plan. He subst.i.tuted Niathal for the mine net.
Caedus reached out to his commanders and spread a lit-tle genuine confidence that things would work out fine. Nevil... he could focus in on Nevil, and the man was deeply troubled. Oh, yes. His son was killed. I forget that. It was an unhappy mind, and Caedus moved on, concen-trating on the threatening storm pressing on his sinuses, the vague sensation in the Force that told him s.h.i.+ps were out there, ma.s.sing somewhere-and Niathal should have been dropping out of s.p.a.ce just about....
Now.
He looked around for the blooms of light as s.h.i.+ps reap-peared in reals.p.a.ce. As he slowed his approach, he caught the shooting-star effect in his peripheral vision, and rolled the StealthX slowly to look around.
Yes, the Third Fleet was on time. The fleet gradually built up, star by artificial star, into a ragged constellation of navigation lights and harshly sunlit surfaces. Early warning systems on Fondor would have detected the emerging fleet by now.
They could still surrender. He'd go through the motions, but only to check the boxes. If they did surrender, he'd still have to occupy the planet for a period anyway, just to make sure it stayed that way. That devoured more resources.
There was still the Fondorian navy to account for, though.
He felt it out there. It was in hypers.p.a.ce, and his aware-ness was nothing like the one he had in normal s.p.a.ce; there was no real size or scope to guide him, just an impression, a little more solid than a hunch.
Now it was time to face Niathal.
He flicked open the comlink, perfectly secure this close to the s.h.i.+p. StealthXs almost always operated in complete comm silence, and n.o.body could monitor them without big clues like an open channel. The fighters really did van-ish. ”Solo to Nevil, the Third is on station.
Patch me through to Ocean.”
She would be...
No...
Caedus had jerked the StealthX ninety degrees to star-board before his retina-fractionally slower than Force senses-registered a slab of s.h.i.+p filling his vision. And it wasn't the Anakin. He righted himself relative to the as-sembled fleet; but he was suddenly overwhelmed, s.h.i.+ps popping into existence all around him in a complete 360- degree ring.
Wherever he turned the StealthX, he was facing the spars and sensor masts and patchworked hatches of wars.h.i.+ps. Cannon turrets-he couldn't identify the type, the navy, anything. It was a fleet from another time and place.
He could feel the s.h.i.+ps, but he had no impression of lethal, implacable ma.s.s. His pa.s.sive sensors showed static, as if he'd been hit by an EM pulse that hadn't tripped the warning. He sensed danger, though; a real threat.
Caedus did what any pilot would, and signaled a warn-ing as best he could, trying to work out what he had fallen into.
ADMIRAL NIATHAL'S FLAGs.h.i.+P OCEAN; OFF FONDOR.
Jacen Solo's open comlink spewed uncharacteristically loud chaos onto Niathal's calm bridge.
”Enemy vessels, I repeat enemy vessels, estimate five destroyers, type unknown, twenty light cruisers, no... fifteen..... range five hundred...”
She stared at her chart repeaters. Nothing. Just the s.h.i.+ps she hoped and expected to find, the Third and Fourth fleet components. She looked up, searching for a simple expla-nation, and the electronic warfare control section-all ten officers-was staring back at her as one bemused being, equally dumbfounded, screens visibly devoid of frantic, blinking UNIDENTIFED icons even from her position. One officer suddenly swung back to her screen and started punching in code. n.o.body else said a word. Everyone with a sensor or screen was searching, cross-checking, looking to see what they'd missed and what bedlam was unfolding out there. Had the hyperjump disrupted all their calibra-tion? Were they about to be vaporized?
”What is that man doing?” Niathal was genuinely thrown, wondering if she might have interrupted him on some morale-boosting dry-run pre-attack; that was the kind of irrational mystic stuff he'd do at a time like this. ”Colonel Solo, this is Ocean, we do not see the targets, tepeat, we do not see the targets...”
The officer of the watch and his juniors were at the forward viewscreen, physically searching through the trans-paristeel for whatever Jacen could detect but they couldn't. There was only so much a lookout could spot with the un-aided eye against a starfield and from this position in the s.h.i.+p, but given what Jacen was calling in, they should have been able to see activity and the glitter of faceted surfaces bouncing raw sunlight back at them. And Jacen's voice-impressively calm, Niathal had to give him that-continued to fill the bridge, transmitting approximated ranges and positions relative to his own.
”I've got him, ma'am, ”said the EWO who'd been tap-ping at her console. ”I've mapped his comlink signal onto the holochart. Watch the purple trace.”
It was just a blob of violet light set a little way apart from an orderly pattern of blue transponder markers. The blue markers were in two distinct formations, pennant codes valid, showing two GA task forces. The violet light-Jacen Solo's StealthX-was racing across the hoJochart, jinking and looping, as if it were navigating through a con-gested s.p.a.celane and avoiding bigger vessels.
Niathal's initial shock, which had set her blood pumping hard enough to hear in her ears, was ebbing into disbelief and a different kind of worry. She glanced down at the comlink panel. Jacen was patched through to her and to the Anakin Solo's bridge.
Okay. Let's share your unique Sith insight, shall we, Colonel?
She flicked a key and the voice channel went to every bridge comlink in the two fleets.
”Ma'am, confirmed zero contacts.” The EWO seemed to hesitate, as if saying what was now on Niathal's mind and probably everyone else's was a little rude. ”There's nothing out there, unless someone has cloaking technology we don't know about and Colonel Solo is able to see past it...
being a Jedi, and all that.”
It was an outside chance, Niathal knew. Just to be on the safe side, she turned to the weapons officer.
”Bargos, lob the smallest torp you've got at one of those coordinates the colonel gave, will you?” she said. ”See if we hit anything solid.”
”Very good, ma'am...” Bargos had a chartful of phan-tom targets to choose from. He keyed in a course with nothing to lock on to, and issued the standard warning across the task force. ”Stand by, stand by, all vessels, live weapon, test-firing, bearing and course.... that... in five standard seconds.... and torpedo away.” They waited.
The torpedo's sensor trace tracked steadily across the screen. It pa.s.sed the projected impact point and carried on going.... and going. It looked like it would make it to Bestine in a few years, unimpeded by any mystery target.
”Maybe it's moved..., ”Bargos said, struggling to keep a straight face. It wasn't humor; it was nerve-fraying anxi-ety, not about an invisible enemy, but about a commander who was behaving irrationally.
”Whoa, he's lost it, ”said a whispered voice behind Niathal, barely audible. ”Told you he'd flipped, when he did that to Tebut...”
Jacen was still transmitting, calm but definitely confused.
”Anakin Solo, I have... lost visual.” There was a pause.
”Very good sir.”
”Anakin Solo, respond, did you confirm my visual? Any-thing?”
”Negative, sir.”
”One final visual check, and returning to s.h.i.+p.”
It was so silent on the bridge that Niathal could hear the collective unk of humans swallowing after holding their breath for a while. The whole episode had been played out live to the fleet. Everyone had heard how JCOS-2-joint Chief of State Number Two, as Jacen was known in memos-had been chasing ghosts. If they hadn't heard it live, the utterly reliable fleet scuttleb.u.t.t service would pro-vide highlights for them for years to come. Niathal checked her chrono and the time codes on the signals. The bizarre incident had run for a little under eight standard minutes.
She judged that the time was right. ”Anakin Solo, this is Ocean.
Get me Captain Nevil. Now.”
Nevil must have been right next to the comm station. Niathal hardly had time to blink. She didn't even need to pose a question before he answered it. He did a fine job of sounding as if they hadn't spoken in months.
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