"Oh, hell. Here we go again."
"No," said Leia firmly. "We're doing this to prevent a war, not to
start one. But that means we have to teach Nil Spaar that he misread
us. That's going to be General A'baht's real mission. Nothing
more."
General A'baht turned away from the display with the blockade order.
"Finally," he said. "Finally."
"What?" asked Captain Morano.
"We're going into the Cluster," A'baht said. "We're going to deny the
Yevetha the use of Doornik Three Nineteen as a forward base." A'baht
looked past Morano to the lieutenant at the comm station. "Call my
tactical staff. Bring in the secondary screens. And alert all
commands to prepare for redeployment."
Ultimately, thirty-one ships of the Fifth Battle Group of the New
Republic Defense Force were chosen to make the entry into the
six-planet blue-white star system cataloged as Doornik 319. Leading
the deployment were the Fleet carrier Intrepid, the battle cruisers
Stalwart, Illustrious, Liberty, and Vigilant, and the assault carriers
Repulse and Shield. The blockade entry was prefaced three minutes in
advance by a new hypercomm message from Princess Leia to the Yevetha.
"The Yevethan government's reckless decision to resupply the bases and
settlements located on illegally seized territory is in clear defiance
of our order to withdraw," Leia said. "I therefore declare an
immediate blockade of such locations as we may choose.
"It is our declared purpose in this blockade to interdict any and all
inbound traffic, and to peaceably oversee the withdrawal of Yevethan
citizens and the removal of Yevethan facilities. But know this--in the
event of any hostile acts directed at New Republic vessels taking part
in the blockade, our commanders in the field are authorized to respond
immediately with all necessary force.
"To avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I call on Viceroy Nil Spaar to
promptly and clearly announce your intention to abide by the terms of
the order of withdrawal, and to give unambiguous evidence by your
actions of the sincerity of your words.
"Any other course you choose will lead to war." Good words, General
A'baht thought, with grudging respect. Strong words. May the viceroy
hear the steel in your voice, and spare the lives of our mothers' sons
and daughters.
"Signal ferret reentry now," sang out the jump manager.
"Confirm alert level zero," said Captain Morano.
"Confirming!" called the exec. "All defense systems active. Shields
set to go automatic on reentry. Flash alert receivers in the green.
All stations crewed. All weapons on standby. Interceptor Two, Five,
Eight, Fighter Red, Gold, Black, are on the deck and hot."
"Picket line reentry now," sang out the jump manager.
Captain Morano nervously tightened the straps holding him in his flak
couch. "So how many combat jumps have you made, General?" he said to
A'baht.
"Too many, and not enough," said A'baht.
"I understand that," Morano said. "Say--what was that Dornean war
prayer again?"
"I have already said it for us," A'baht said, nodding.
"Attention, all hands!" called the jump manager.
"Realspace entry in five--four--three--two--" "Remember, everyone,
there's at least one big Star Destroyer out there--let's find it
fast!"
Morano called out.
"--one--" The jump alarm sounded, and the bridge view-screens blurred
with streaks of white. When the streaks abruptly collapsed into a
brilliant field of stars, a brown-and-white planet, two-thirds in
night, filled a generous share of the forward view.
"Stang, look at them all," someone breathed, reacting to the spectacle
of the Cluster viewed from within.
"How are the gunners supposed to find their targets against that
background?"
"Cut the chatter," A'baht snapped. "I want a head count."
"Polling the task force, sir."
"Tactical!" Morano called. "Where are you?"
"Sensors report no targets. Pickets report no contacts.
Prowlers report no contacts."
"Where's that Star Destroyer?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Must be on the other side of the planet," Morano said to A'baht. "I
don't know if that's lucky for them or for us."
Reports kept coming from stations all around the bridge of Intrepid.
"General, poll is complete--all ships reporting on station."
"Hangar boss reports all flights away, Captain.
Fighter screen is moving to position."
"Let's push those lead pickets out and get a look at the other side,"
said A'baht. "Anything from the ground scans yet?"
"Located six--now seven--landing sites with adjacent structures,"
answered the sensor operator. "No grounded ships, any design."
Morano turned to look at A'baht. "Maybe they got smart and left before
we got here?"
"Let's wait until we hear from the lead pickets," A'baht said, touching
his combat comm. "This is task force leader, all units. Open the
formation and take up assigned orbits configuration. Maintain your
alerts."
Over the next half hour the furious, nearly frantic activity of the
first few moments faded to a more manageable level. With an all-clear
from the lead pickets, the ships dispersed into the blockade
screen--the capital ships moving north and south in midlevel orbits,
the secondaries east and west in high orbits, and the enclosing halo of
pickets and prowlers expanding outward.
Through it all, the Yevethan Star Destroyer was nowhere to be found.
Nor were any thrustships located, either on the ground or in orbit.
Morano frowned into his hand as he studied the scan board. A'baht
bounced a fist on the armrest of his flak couch, wondering if he
believed their good fortune.
"No dragons today?" Morano asked finally. "The Princess will be
pleased."
A'baht shook his head. "This doesn't feel right."
"Maybe at the end of the day, the Yevetha are the kind of bullies that
back down when someone finally stands up to them."
"No," said A'baht. "No, that's not the right personality.
They're tougher--and colder--than that. Operations!
I want scouts sent immediately to the other planets in the system.
I've got a feeling the Yevetha didn't go very far."
"Right away, sir."
But there was no chance for that order to be carried out. Contact
alarms began to sound, and the tactical officer shouted over them,
"Captain! I've got incoming hostiles, six, eight, ten, fifteen, all
vectors, very high closing speeds--they must be microjumping in behind
the pickets--" Something detonated against Intrepid's forward particle
shields, bathing the bridge in blinding light until the dazzlers
responded. The shield shock made the ship sway slightly underfoot.
"Where did that come from?"
"We're taking ground fire, General--ion cannon and high-velocity
missiles. Three sites."
"Show me tactical."
The center viewscreen metamorphosed into a three-dimensional tactical
display, which showed the
task force's ships arrayed in three shells
orbiting the planet.
The attacking vessels were already inside the outer shell, diving in
toward the larger ships from half the compass.
"This is task force leader," A'baht said grimly. "All ships,
counterfire at will. Defend yourselves."
"All batteries, return fire, counterforce protocol," Morano ordered.
"Tactical--report enemy strength."
"Count three, repeat, three Imperial-class Star Destroyers; six,
repeat, six Aramadia-class thrustships; one additional capital ship,
unknown configuration and design."
It all happened so quickly that surprise never faded from the bridge of
Intrepid. The attacking Star Destroyers dove in at high speed, their
forward batteries firing without cessation. A'baht watched the
spherical thrust-ships with special interest. With their large
silhouettes, the Yevethan-designed ships seemed as though they should
be vulnerable, but they proved otherwise. Without ever seeming to drop
shields, they launched volleys of torpedoes and released salvos of a
type of side-steering gravity bomb not previously seen. All the time,
heavy laser batteries fired from six concealed and widely spaced gun
ports.
A cluster of four Yevethan gravity bombs targeted the light escort
Trenchant in high orbit, overwhelming its particle shields with a
coordinated detonation. Moments later a proton torpedo struck it
forward of the bridge, and it disappeared inside a billowing
fireball.
"All defense batteries, target those slow bombs," the ship's tactical
officer ordered. "General, sir, Liberty is reporting six fighters
down, lateral shields at one-quarter. Repulse is moving to screen
her."
Morano pounded his fist on the armrest. "We've got numbers on them,
but we're deployed all wrong for this kind of 'attack. We're
sandwiched in between them and the planet with no room to maneuver."
"Patience, Captain," A'baht said. "We need a little more."
The tracking officer turned at his station. "General-the enemy vessels
are not sustaining contact.
They're making one pass only, then veering off to multiple headings.
There may be more coming in behind them, sir."
"Hold your speculation unless asked for it," A'baht said. "Colonel
Corgan, where do we stand?"
The tactical officer for A'baht's staff frowned over his console.
"Fifty seconds more, General. Then I'll be ready to transmit."
"Fifty seconds it is," A'baht said. "Task force leader--all
secondaries prepare to break orbit to vector five-five-two. All
primaries cover the withdrawal."
The comm chief signaled A'baht through his couch console. "Sir, the
captains of Illustrious and Liberty are asking for permission to
pursue."
"Denied," A'baht said. "Task force leader, all ships. Lock up on your
debris and take it with you--I want bodies pulled before we jump
out."
Now it was the ship tactical officer's turn. "Sir--we can take them.
We just need to regroup and pursue--" "At what losses, under these
conditions? Lieutenant, we didn't come here to win at any cost, in a
battle zone they chose and at a time that suited them," A'baht said,
"We came here for the information we need to win the next time. And
that next time is coming sooner than they think."
"Yes, sir."
"Transmitting," Colonel Corgan said. "Dispatch away."
A'baht nodded. "Task force leader--Secondaries break orbit. We got
what we came for--now the Yevetha will get what they deserve." He
switched his hypercomm to the scrambled command channel and keyed the
transmit code. "All groups, your authorization is
kaph-samekh-nine-cipher-nine-go-daleth.
Hit 'em hard."
The eighteen ships of Task Force Aster were waiting at their staging
area two light-hours above the plane of the Doornik 319 system. The
word was passed to them by the task force commander, Commodore Brand,
aboard the star cruiser Indomitable.
"All ships, alert," he said. "The Yevetha have resisted the
blockade.
We're going in. You should be receiving updated target and jump vector
data from Group Tactical now. Countdown to the jump-in will begin on
my call. All batteries, make sure you have positive target
acquisition. It's going to be crowded down there."
passed to the twenty ships of Task Force Blackvine by Commodore
Tolsk.
The word filtered quickly down through the ranks and out from the
bridge, reaching even the crews waiting in the cockpits of their
fighters and assault craft, which were arrayed for launch on the hangar
decks.
"Are you keeping an eye on that number three engine?"
Skids called forward to the pilot's cockpit of the K-wing. "It looks a
little hot from back here."
"I'm on top of it," Esege Tuketu answered. "But everything in here is
going to run a little hot till they throw the doors open and start
pushing us out. She can take it."
"I just don't want to hear 'Oops' at the end of a power dive on one of
those Star Destroyers," Skids said.
"I promise--you won't," Tuke said.
"Good."
"--I'll just think it to myself."
"Is it too late for me to find another pilot?"
Ahead of them, the great armored clamshell doors of Hangar Bay 5 began
to open. "It's too late," said Tuke. "You just make sure all our eggs
are safe. I don't want to crack one early."
"Point this thing straight and you won't have to worry about that."
Moving as one under the control of the floor chief, the assault bombers
of the 24th Bombardment Squadron accelerated down the draglines--first
Black Flight, its six K-wings in two rows, three abreast, then Green,
then Red. The most dangerous part about cluster launches was executing
the break on time--the spacing was so tight that impatience in the back
rows could wipe out half the squadron.
ble's battle operations center as his tracking system lit.
"Acquiring target."
"My, my, my--they sure turned all the lights on for us," Skids said on
the local comm, craning his head to look in all directions. "I've
never seen such a sky full of stars."
Red Flight broke down and away, toward the last of four Yevethan
thrustships strung out in a line leading back to Doornik 319. In a few
moments they picked up their cover fighters--the E-wings of the 16th
Fighter Squadron's Blue Flight.
"That trailer's ours, Blue Leader," Tuke said. "Red Flight, arm your
eggs and confirm acquisition by your targeting computers."
Each of the six bombers was carrying two fat T-33 plasma torpedoes,
known among the crews as shield-busters or rotten eggs. Designed to
detonate at the shield perimeter rather than to penetrate it, the
plasma warheads of the T-33s created the most intense radiation burst
of any New Republic weapon, several times the output of a capital
ship's ion cannon batteries.
The focused cone of radiation was designed
to overload ray-shielding
generators, either burning them up with the feedback or pushing them
overlimit with the bounceback. Once even one generator was down, the
towers for the particle shields would be vulnerable to the turbolaser
turrets on the gun frigates. If everything went according to plan, the
carriers, already falling back behind the cruiser screen, would never
come close to engaging the enemy directly.
Their system entry had placed them a startlingly close 16,000 klicks
from their targets, and the thrustship grew quickly in the scopes and
screens as the bombers accelerated to attack velocity. At a range of
three thousand kilometers, Tuketu ordered Red Flight to move into the
open hex formation, which would give them all room for evasive
maneuvers on the way in and an unobstructed power pullup on the way
out.
There was no sign of enemy snub fighters, but the flight began taking
some fire from the thrustship at fifteen hundred kilometers. Hinking
and jinking the K-wing violently, Tuketu alerted his weapons tech to