13: Home One

ABOARD THE STAR DESTROYER ASSERTER

ORBITING THE PLANET HOTH

Captain Dhosgrath, executive officer of the Asserter, stood at his station, looking tensely over at Admiral Onovan. His commander had never looked more satisfied with himself. With his black-gloved hands clasped firmly behind his back, Admiral Onovan looked out the forward viewport at the dead ice-world, anticipating the arrival of what his advanced scouts had already promised him. “Captain Dhosgrath, say status,” Onovan said.

“Sensor stations report flashes of X-band radio waves,” he said, loudly so that his admiral could hear him across the length of the bridge. “Comms intercepted some of the chatter. It appears to be one Rebel Alliance ship, a heavy star cruiser, moving around at the edges of the system, traveling at sublight speed.”

The admiral’s own reflection was visible in the viewport. His well-manicured gray beard parted in a smile. “They’re looking for the best approach vector to move in-system.” He shook his head, amused. “Will they never learn?” he said rhetorically. “A single cruiser. The fools. Such fools.”

“A smattering of other, smaller ships may also be out here somewhere, moving about in darkness, using asteroids and other planets as cover.”

“I’m sure they are. Their tactics never change. So unimaginative.”

“Sir?”

“You are familiar with Thrawn’s Force-squared Law, no doubt, XO,” said Onovan.

Of course, he was. Dhosgrath had gone to the same Imperial Academy as the admiral had gone to, had attended the same classes, the same lectures, and participated in the same wargames. The battle scenarios covered the so-called Force-squared Law repeatedly, to the point that Dhosgrath, a student of the great fleet battles of the Clone Wars and no stranger to ardent study of history, had found the study tedious. “Yes, Admiral,” he said. “I am aware.”

Onovan gestured to his XO to come join him by the viewport. “Give me your definition, then. Not just a regurgitation of what you learned at Academy.”

Dhosgrath walked over and stood by him, looking past his own reflection to Hoth beyond. “The Force-squared Law was developed by Thrawn, back when he was briefly a gunnery theoretician of some repute. He worked equations to help in tactical situations, and the Empire has followed it pretty strictly since its inception. Before Thrawn’s equations in battle tactics, it was generally believed that, should one hundred warships face off against seventy-five warships of equal power, the battle would, on average, cost the winning side seventy-five of its own ships, leaving twenty-five surviving ships. Simple math.”

“And after Thrawn developed his equations?” Admiral Onovan said. “What changed?”

“Thrawn challenged this thinking. He predicted that the numerically superior group’s weapons would have an ever-increasing detrimental effect on the numerically weaker force. He predicted a victory in which all seventy-five of the weaker force were destroyed, but only at a cost of thirty-four warships for the victor.”

Onovan gave an almost imperceptible nod. “A good enough simplification. You’ll recall his simulations were tested against various historical wartime strategies, and proven out. They soon became the standard way of predicting who would win which conflict, and at what cost.”

“Yes, sir.” Indeed, after the simulations had proven out, Thrawn’s Force-squared Law spread like a doctrine among the fleets, putting greater impetus on having greater numbers, and not so much focus on greater firepower—as long as a ship’s guns, hull, and shields were all “average enough” it didn’t matter. But Captain Dhosgrath stood there wondering what could have spurred this recitation of military strategy.

“I also recall that Thrawn later said many people misuse his definition of the Force-squared Law,” Dhosgrath went on. “And that the Empire leaned too heavily on it—he even went so far as to say he wish he’d never brought it up, since the Empire began to put less emphasis on tactics and cleverness, and more emphasis on sheer numbers.”

“They fight against an undying tide,” Admiral Onovan said, as if on a different topic entirely. “The Rebels, I mean. They try their tricks, they make their attempts at stealth and deception—not that we don’t have some of those kinds of tactics of our own—but the Rebels put emphasis on it, because it is all they have.” He snorted out a laugh, almost as though he pitied them. “But our numbers, Captain, our sheer numbers will always outmatch them. Even now, they come for us with some vain hope of undermining the Force-squared Law. They do not learn.”

He chuckled.

“Sometimes I think that’s all a rebellion is, the manifestation of a large group’s frustration with their own inability to grasp reality. Eventually, those people grow in enough number and they must be checked.”

Dhosgrath nodded. “Yes, sir.” He fidgeted, unsure of what else there was to say.

“Has there been any contact with the operative we shuttled down to Hoth?” the admiral asked.

“Not yet, sir. We’re still waiting to hear back from the dropship that went to pick him up. There may be interference from a storm that has taken up much of the western hemis—”

“Admiral Onovan!” a sensor specialist shouted across the bridge. “We have incoming, sir! Fresh out of hyperspace! Coming in behind us from the outermost moon! Large heavy cruiser…looks like…” He hesitated a moment. “Uh, too far to tell silhouette at the moment…but neutron-imaging suggests a Mon Cal ship, sir.”

“Bring up the specs on my tactical screen here,” Onovan sighed, almost as though he was bored. “Set Condition One,” he said rigidly, chin up, projecting all the power and verve of the Empire. “Monitor transmissions across all frequencies. Ready main guns. Deploy three TIE fighter squadrons—make it four—and as soon as they’re away raise bay deflector shields. Have the TIEs prepare for zonal attack patterns.”

It was the standard response. No need to switch it up, not with these ragtag Rebels.

To his XO, the admiral said, “Here they come, Captain. One large ship up behind us, with a few small CR-90s to arrive shortly behind it, perhaps, as a ‘surprise’ that is supposed to shock us, or even a couple of Nebulon-B frigates. And yet here we are, with a far larger task force surrounding us, three other Star Destroyers, all of them prepared to come in by sublight at a moment’s notice. Surely, they must have detected our backup. And yet they—”

“Scopes confirm, sir!” the specialist continued. “She’s a Mon Cal…approximately thirteen hundred meters, coming at us abeam, half a parsec out. Fits the profile of a deep-space exploration vessel, probably converted into a warship, with a large, bulbous viewport at her stern…” The specialist trailed off, and looked up at the admiral and XO. The large black helmet on his head reflected both their shocked faces.

Dhosgrath looked over at Onovan. “Mol Calamari ship. Converted deep-space exploration vessel with a bulbous observation viewport at her stern,” he repeated to himself.

The bridge went silent.

According to most recent Imperial intelligence reports, that description fit only one ship’s profile.

“Home One,” one of the other comms officers whispered.

Captain Dhosgrath looked at Admiral Onovan. The admiral’s confident smile wavered. He looked back out the forward viewport. His voice had never had more fire, and he spat out commands like a krayt dragon ready to devour all its foes. “Contact Second Fleet, alert them to the situation, then jam all transmissions! Prepare to engage!”

* * *

ABOARD THE MC80 STAR CRUISER HOME ONE

FLAGSHIP OF THE ALLIANCE TO RESTORE THE REPUBLIC

Home One’s gunmetal-gray hull glinted slightly in the light of the distant and dying sun. Cathedral-wrought and mishappen, it came plunging out of the darkness like an octowhale out of the depths of the ocean-world on which it was built. The gigantic cruiser’s deflectors pushed small meteorites out of its way as it went, and the larger asteroids it blasted to pieces by occasional, staccato shots from its turbolasers. All throughout the Hoth system, there were these clusters of asteroids. They came from what was called the Hoth Belt, a huge swath of asteroids caused by the collision of the system’s two farthest planets millions of years ago, and had left billions upon billions of small rocks, and several thousand planetesimals, rocketing through space.

Small ships always had to thread a needle when coming or going from Hoth, and large ships had to be prepared to angle deflectors and blast the larger chunks out of their way, or else suffer critical damage that could render whole systems nonfunctioning.

Home One seemed to know what it was doing. And yet, it moved strangely. For one, the star cruiser seemed to have taken on no active defensive measures, was headed straight for the trio of Star Destroyers between it and Hoth, and, as yet, was attempting no comms jamming. Through the viewport, the crew watched anxiously as those three Star Destroyers grew in size. TIE fighters, like little swarms of gnats, came towards them in what appeared to be a clear zonal attack pattern.

Everyone on Home One’s bridge stared, waiting for their leader to make the call.

Home One’s commanding officer, a native of the world Dac, often called Mon Calamari, sat in his command chair, which swiveled across the bright-white deck and allowed him to interface with multiple of his stations at once. Admiral Gial Ackbar’s crew was used to him going quiet for a time, ruminating while his unreadable face and bulbous eyes stared at an oncoming enemy. Those bulbous eyes rarely blinked, and when they did, you could be sure he had reached a decision.

“Now, Captain,” he groused to the female Twi’lek commander standing next to him.

Captain Kayliss moved a green hand over to her intercom switch, and when she spoke, her voice was broadcast across all stations, all compartments, all across the ship. “Ready Pattern Delta! Close all blast doors from Compartments B through F for maximum hull integrity, leave all others open for Fire Teams! Fire Team Bravo, conduct final safety checks on all fire suits and extinguisher equipment!”

As soon as she was done, Ackbar hit a switch on his armrest and swiveled his chair around, and he hovered across the room, still sitting, as he conducted his people like they were part of a symphony. “Helm, give me a thirty-degree yaw rotation, bring us even with the enemy’s vector, superstructure pointed directly at them. Let me know when this is done.”

“Aye, sir!” shouted a Human male from his helm station.

Captain Kayliss’s lekku twitched as she watched Admiral Ackbar continue to swivel around the room, looking at his people moving about their tasks. But she was waiting eagerly for the call to deploy the X-wings. That call did not come.

Instead, Ackbar said, “Gunnery, prepare a single warhead. Give me a firing solution, but the warhead must achieve this vector.” His finned hands typed out something on his armrest, and a holographic grid showed up on a gunnery sergeant’s screen.

The gunnery sergeant looked as quizzical as Captain Kayliss felt. “Sir?”

“Do it, Sergeant,” Ackbar said.

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Bay control, drop bay deflectors, and after the warhead is dropped, release a single X-wing squadron, then boost power to all deflector shields—reroute power from main engines, just as you’ve drilled countless time now, lads. Tell the X-wing commander to take his entire squadron toward the third moon. Tell them to move in open cluster formation, but do not engage the enemy.”

A Wookiee officer growled his acknowledgement.

Captain Kayliss’s mouth parted in shock. She did not want to question the admiral openly in front of everyone, so when his chair happened to swivel past her, she touched his arm to stop him, and said, “Admiral—”

“I know what you’re going to say, Captain.”

“I know we rehearsed this, Admiral, but…a single X-wing squadron? One squadron against all of those TIEs?”

Ackbar gave her a look. And then he said it. “Now falls the hammer, Captain.”

That was it. Admiral Gial Ackbar was a creature of few words. He forced his people through grueling drills, constant wargames, endless simulations, and was always forcing them to think outside the box. Sometimes his crew was upset by all the drilling, but they all respected him. They respected him through his bouts of stoic silence, which were often followed by suddenly barking commands that brooked no argument. And when it came time for action, he had a single mindset, repeated over and over in a refrain: Now falls the hammer. It meant the time for debate and scheming was over, and now was the time to execute.

“Now, see that my orders are executed, Captain,” he said, glaring at her.

Kayliss sighed and stepped away, moving to her station to check on all stations’ status.

They had spent nearly an hour bouncing around at the edge of the Hoth system, as if the Mon Calamari admiral were looking for the ideal approach vector. Then he had chosen one that took them straight through a large portion of the Hoth Belt, thick with asteroids.

I don’t understand, she thought, watching the warhead’s tail end flair blue as it rocketed from their bay and went off into space. What is this? We were only called out here to help distract the Imperial fleet, not fully engage with them. We just need to stall them, keep them busy while some Rebel spy escapes from Hoth. Why is he engaging them? And what is a single warhead supposed to do against—?

Then, Captain Kayliss witnessed a much greater riddle. She watched as the warhead—the same one Admiral Ackbar had ordered fired, the same one he had demanded a targeting solution for—took a heavy turn away from the Star Destroyers, and went plummeting towards Hoth.

“Prepare sublight engines!” Ackbar cried. “And prepare our Alpha Package?”

Again, Kayliss blinked in surprise. Alpha Package? Sublight engines? Where are we going? We just got here.

* * *

ABOARD THE STAR DESTROYER ASSERTER

“What is he doing?” Dhosgrath asked, utterly bewildered.

Beside him, Admiral Onovan seemed to be thinking the same thing. He watched the warhead go nowhere near Asserter nor the Star Destroyers Unrelenting or Judgment, which were now coasting in. “Could it be a malfunction?” Onovan muttered, as if to himself. Then he whirled around and shouted to sensor command. “Where is that warhead going? What’s its trajectory?”

An answer came two seconds later from an ensign. “Sir, it appears to be vanishing into Hoth’s nightside. I lost it just as it dipped below the stratosphere.”

Onovan looked at Dhosgrath, who gave a fractional shrug. “Perhaps there is something down on Hoth that he intends to nuke, something that the Rebels left behind and that he needs to destroy. Perhaps some key piece of intelligence he does not want falling into our hands?”

Onovan appeared unconvinced. He looked back out the window. “What about the X-wings?” he called.

“They are moving in open cluster formation…” another ensign called from scopes. “Away from the TIEs. Away from us.”

“What?”

“I said they’re headed away—”

“Where are they going?”

“I…I can’t say for sure, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because Home One has turned her superstructure toward us and has come flat with our vector—she is blocking most of our view of most of the X-wings she let loose from her bay.”

“A Marg Sabl maneuver?” said Dhosgrath. “With only one squadron? What’s the point? Especially with all of them moving away from us. Could it be—”

“Sublight engines are being engaged!” shouted another sensor specialist. “Detecting a boost in heat and other energy signals from Home One’s sublight engines—”

“What’s their vector?” Onovan cried.

“Uh…at present…”

“Now, ensign!”

“At present I’d say she’s heading for—” He broke off as Home One suddenly zipped right past them, a blur almost too fast to be seen. “Looks like she came out at these coordinates, sir.” A hologram came up in front of Onovan and Dhosgrath, showing the planet Hoth, a huge cluster of asteroids and space dust floating around its dark side, with a red dot showing Home One’s approximate location.

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“What is Ackbar doing there?” Captain Dhosgrath asked. “Why is he flying into all those asteroids? Some of those planetesimals are huge, capable of destroying his whole ship if he isn’t careful. Why in the stars would he—?”

“Admiral,” said a comms officer sitting beside him. “The Unrelenting and Judgment are both dropping jamming blankets so their transmissions can get through. Both of their captains request the honor of hunting down and destroying Home One.”

Admiral Onovan glanced at Dhosgrath briefly, then said, “I cannot have us all go chasing through the asteroid field. Likely one of us would see serious damage while trying to navigate it. The Home One herself is likely to take critical damage.” He scratched his chin briefly, ruminating. “But we cannot allow her to go unwatched around the system. We need to pursue her, lest she get too comfortable and start laying mines or such around the planet.” To the comms officer he said, “Patch both captains through.”

Dhosgrath turned, and saw the life-sized and slightly flickering holograms of Captain Vald of the Unrelenting, and Captain Durric of the Judgment, appear before him. Vald was tall and thin, and spoke with a refined Coruscanti accent, while Durric was stouter and missing an eye. Both men wore stern faces chiseled from granite, and Dhosgrath happened to know the two men hated one another. They had been secret rivals since their days at Academy, each one trying to score higher in the wargames, each one vying for control of their fleets, and each one jockeying for the position of Grand Moff Tarkin’s favored captain, back when that had meant something.

“Captains,” Onovan said.

“Admiral,” said Vald, his prim Coruscanti accent and slightly curious gaze making him appear as though he were at a wine-tasting competition and not part of a full-on war theater. “If I understand your strategy, it is to remain stationed as we are, with the majority of our forces grouped together and ready to receive Second Fleet when it arrives.”

“That is the plan, yes. But we must also make sure to harass Home One while she tries to hide in the asteroid cluster on the dark side of Hoth.”

“Then, sir, might I volunteer to pursue the enemy? The bulk of our forces can remain here in geosynchronous orbit while I take Unrelenting to harass our enemy and hopefully force Ackbar either out of the system or back into your sights.”

Captain Durric cleared his throat. “Admiral, with all due respect to Captain Vald, Judgment is far better equipped than Unrelenting to deal with this, as we were only recently refitted at port.”

“Unrelenting’s crew is far more seasoned at this kind of warfare,” Vald countered. “We have harassed Rebels through congested asteroid fields before, as well as hounded them past shadowports in the Outer Rim—”

“But have you the firepower to contend with an MC80 Star Cruiser?”

“We have every bit that we need—”

“Gentlemen, please!” said Admiral Onovan. “This is unbecoming of men of your station.”

In the charged silence, the two captains glared at one another, and it seemed either one of them might suddenly burst into childish slander. The admiral’s chiding had only exacerbated the feud.

But Dhosgrath saw the small smile on the admiral’s face and knew that the man secretly enjoyed having his underlings compete for his permission on anything.

“Unrelenting will give chase,” he decided. “Judgment will remain in stationkeeping posture, here with Asserter. You may harass the enemy, Captain Vald. I don’t have to tell you to use caution. Ackbar is nothing if not cunning. Indeed, all the Rebels sometimes appear suicidal.”

“Yes, sir.” Vald’s hologram fizzled out, but not, Dhosgrath noted, before he flashed a quick smirk over to Captain Durric, whose upper lip appeared to twitch in irritation.

* * *

ABOARD THE STAR DESTROYER UNRELENTING

Captain Vald personally oversaw the course selection. He had his two senior navigators and his orbital dynamicist working out Home One’s course based on their last known trajectory. They flared up their hyperdrive and performed a microjump, far enough away from the planet that it still appeared like a snowball held at arm’s length. That gave them plenty of room to maneuver above the congealing cloud of asteroids that had recently found themselves in a decaying orbit around Hoth. From here, Vald could zoom in with scopes and view the dark side of the planet in greater detail, and he also saw the occasional red flare of asteroids entering Hoth’s atmosphere and plunging down to the surface.

There was a swarm of brown dust trailing these asteroids, some of which were planetesimals, but their orbital dynamicist said that the planetesimals were going at enough speed and trajectory that they would not collide with the planet—rather, they would whip around Hoth, picking up speed in a slingshot orbit, and be launched back out into the system.

Home One was not visible anywhere, and yet there was an enormous heat signature coming from the asteroid cluster and accompanying dust cloud.

Which means she’s hiding behind one of the planetesimals, Vald thought.

“Send out probe droids,” he commanded. “Vipers all. Give me a survey of the asteroid cluster and tell me which one of those rocks Home One is hiding behind.”

Seconds later it was done. He watched the blue flashes of the drive trails of each probe droid as it launched into the darkness and plunged into the asteroid cluster. Minutes crawled by. The data was coming in at his tactical station. Captain Vald gazed at it hungrily, watching as each hiding place was eliminated as suspect. He wanted Ackbar badly. Had wanted him since the maneuver he pulled near Taanab. A small skirmish there had resulted in the destruction of an Imperial data dump installation and the death of just six men. One of those was Vald’s half-brother, Ebrim, and two others had been friends of his at Academy.

The daring Mon Calamari had to be stopped. Here. Now. Or his interference in this war could cause the deaths of countless others.

“Captain Vald, sir, we’ve located Home One!” a sensor specialist called.

“Excellent. Send the data to my station and deploy three fighter squadrons.”

“There’s something else, sir.”

Vald sighed. “Let me guess. Mines?” It had been a favored technique of Rebel forces lately, to beat a retreat while laying a destructive path of mines in their wake.

“No, sir. At least, I don’t think so. Something else…it was just a couple of blips, there and gone. The readings were confusing. But I also think significant.”

“Say what you mean, ensign.”

“It was something small. Maybe several somethings. It was a heat bounce-back off our wake, very small.”

Vald shrugged. “Asteroids. Probably some of them flying in high orbit around the planet, they got slung loose from the rest of the cluster. Keep an eye on it, though, and tell me if anything changes.” To a fighter bay commander, he said, “Time on the TIEs?”

“They’re being deployed now, sir.”

“Excellent. Tell them to move in open cluster formation, zonal attack pattern. Have the bombers come about Home One’s stern and take out her engines if possible.” I want this Mon Calamari alive to face the Emperor’s judgment.

* * *

ABOARD THE MC80 STAR CRUISER HOME ONE

“You see their confidence in the Force-squared Law,” Ackbar said to Captain Kayliss.

Kayliss stepped to his side. Her lekku twitched with barely controlled anxiety as she gazed out the viewport at the gigantic asteroid, in whose shadow they were hiding. Home One was currently sandwiched between the asteroid above them and Hoth below them, with no way out but forwards. All around them, all throughout the ship, they could hear the clanks and bangs of asteroidlets banging against their hull.

“The Force-squared Law, sir?” she whispered. She was keeping her voice low, as if the Imperials could hear her if she spoke too loudly.

Ackbar nodded. “They were never going to separate all their forces to chase after us. They were going to send just one Star Destroyer, two at most, and leave Asserter there to receive the backup of Second Fleet. That would guarantee we were harassed, while the main forces kept us well away from our target—Hoth. If we attempted to find a stable orbit and receive our Rebel spy from the planet, we would be obliterated by their combined forces. So…” He gestured at his tactical display, where it showed that a single Star Destroyer was out there waiting for them on this side of the planet. “They sent just one. Only one to harass us.”

“How does that help?” Kayliss asked, still not seeing it.

“You’ll recall moments ago, just before we moved into the cover of this asteroid, I had the bay commanders drop a dozen pods into space. Our Alpha Package.”

Kayliss nodded. “Yes.” She had thought that was strange. She was unaware of any such “pods” on board Home One. Nevertheless, she had heard the admiral give the command to the bay commanders to release the “Alpha Package,” whatever that was. Seconds after the order was given, the scopes at her personal station had briefly registered the twelve spheres, before each one vanished off of scopes entirely.

“The pods, Captain, are compristeel spheres about ten meters across, each one coated in infrared-suppressant gray paint, with energy-absorption insulation stuffed between the walls to keep them off of most standard sensor scans.” One bulbous eye looked at her. “It also has a short-term life-support system.”

“Life-support system? For who?”

“For those inside.”

Captain Kayliss blinked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

* * *

IN ORBIT ABOVE HOTH

The twelve spherical objects drifted through space, borrowing from Hoth’s own gravity for one trip around the planet, and came up just behind the Unrelenting. The Star Destroyer’s sensors would barely register the little orbs, which attached themselves by makeshift mating claws—the kind used to clamp speeders down while they were being refueled or torn apart for maintenance—and opened a porthole on their sides just wide enough for the three figures crammed in each of them.

A total of thirty-six small beings exited into space, protected by the vacuum by their thin tactical vac-suits, each with helmets that accommodated their elongated snouts. The thirty-six operatives had been living aboard Home One in secret for months, waiting for a key moment to strike. Their presence aboard Home One had been unknown because Ackbar had not wanted the rumor of such agents getting out to IIS.

Their magboots clamped onto the durasteel hull and they walked along the long, seemingly unending belly of the Star Destroyer. From their vantage, Hoth was above them—even though they couldn’t see it or the asteroid cluster, since they were still on the planet’s nightside. They had brought just two small welder droids with them, each of which flashed a white-hot plasma torch that got to work opening holes big enough for each of the operatives to slip through.

All of them had jetpacks that helped them fly up and into the guts of the Unrelenting. Once into an airlock, one of them used a slicer rig to run a bypass on the access panel, cycled up the pressurization and artificial gravity fields, and then opened the door and stepped onto the deck of an Imperial Star Destroyer.

They removed their helmets, revealing furry heads and long, cat-like ears, with fanged snouts and beady eyes. Bothans, all of them.

The lead Bothan said nothing, merely twitched his ears in a code that the others understood. Move forward, keep it tight, bounding overwatch formation, watch your corners and doorways. Let’s move! The other Bothans flicked their ears in response: Understood.

* * *

ABOARD THE SHADOW OF ALDERAAN

“Transmissions are being jammed all around the planet, ma’am,” Kajjak said.

Fera stormed over to his workstation. “Has Home One engaged?”

“Impossible to say for sure, Commander. But if I had to wager a guess I’d say yes. Total comms saturation is pretty standard for Imperial fleets just before engaging with any enemy.”

Fera nodded. She licked her lips, her mind racing at the possibilities. There was hope yet, she felt. Hope that Ackbar could distract the enemy long enough for her agent to get out.

But that hope faded when Denzen, the Rodian sensor specialist, called out, “Another fleet coming in.”

“Second Fleet?” Fera said. Their scopes had indicated that Second Fleet was skulking around out here somewhere, most likely searching for any stealthy Rebels like them. Her heart dropped when the Bothan answered.

“No, ma’am. It appears to be the Impaler. But if so, then that means—”

“The Empire’s Fifth Fleet.” Nothing could have drained her of all notion of success so fast. “It’s a trap. Or it soon will be. But how did Fifth Fleet get all the way out here from Bespin so fast?” She waved her hand. “Never mind. We have to warn Ackbar—”

“Commander,” Kajjak said. “As I told you, all comms around Hoth are jammed—”

“Then we find another way to contact him.”

“What way?”

“I don’t know! We find a way!”

Everyone on her team looked up from their stations, the glow of their monitors lighting up their surprised faces.

Fera bit her lip. Her hand came up to her chin, her fingers touching lightly the shameful tattoo there. That tattoo reflected a moment exactly like this, when her own decision-making had brought about a catastrophe that cost half a hundred innocent lives. Since then, her judgment had always been in question. People like Soolek would exploit it, use it against her the next time she needed something from Director Eeja.

Eeja…

She had begged the director for this op, and he had allowed it. If not for Fera’s pushing, this op would never have gotten off the ground, and Ageless Void would still be down on the surface of Hoth, waiting to walk in front of Horizon Lost’s crosshairs. But now…

Now it involves a major Alliance star cruiser. I have drawn in Admiral Ackbar, one of our most precious leaders, and if he dies defending our agent…

“Even if Ackbar stalls them long enough, they’re not going to make it,” Fera mused aloud. She tapped her fingernails on her teeth, thinking.

Mynyra looked over at her. “What do you mean?” the Bothan asked.

Fera’s mind raced with possibilities, and soon all the different scenarios began to collapse, and her choices became slim, abrogated into one final conclusion. “The stubborn old admiral is doing what he does best, antagonizing and provoking. I presume he’s got a plan, but…it might not be enough. Our agent needs more help. She’s flying an IDT-7, but those dropships don’t have hyperdrives.” She shook her head. “They’re still going to need a lift, and I don’t think Home One is going to be able to give it to them, not with Fifth Fleet on the way.”

“So what do we do, Commander?” asked Kajjak.

Fera’s fingers found her chin again, and they ran over the tattoo. The fear of a repeat disaster was not so great, though, as the thought of losing both an agent and a key piece of intel like Ageless Void. He could provide insight into the Kingdom and help the Rebel Alliance root out all the Empire’s major assassins hidden throughout the galaxy.

We need him. We need her. But how? How?

A thought suddenly sprang to mind while she was looking around at the Shadow of Alderaan’s walls, as if the answer was there. And perhaps it was. Because while the Shadow’s captain had refused to intervene in such an obviously losing battle, he did have other resources.

She tapped a switch to call the captain. When his face appeared on screen, he said, “Commander Fera. What can I do for you?”

“You said you’ve got a Sentinel-class shuttle on standby?”

“Yes, the Midra’hara.”

“Is she ready to go?”

He blinked in confusion. “Go? Go where?”

She told him what she intended to do.

The captain shook his head. “I wouldn’t advise that. The main hyperdrive is failing, and the backup hyperdrive is only a Class Ten, so I wouldn’t—”

“Captain, I don’t have time to argue. I have an agent in play and a mission that is vital to the survival of the Rebellion. Admiral Ackbar is in the process of buying us some time, but all his efforts will be for nothing if we do nothing. So, in the name of the Alliance Intelligence Net, I am hereby invoking emergency resource-allocation protocols to commandeer your captured Sentinel-class shuttle in order to pull an agent out of the cold. Now, this ship is yours, but small enemy shuttles captured for the sake of deception and intelligence-gathering are well within the power of my office to commandeer. Do you understand?”

The captain stared at her begrudgingly. “Who’s going to fly it, Commander?”

Fera had no other option. “I suppose I will.”

“Do you know how to fly?”

“I’ve flown,” she said, and did not elaborate.

The captain hesitated only a moment longer. “Very well. But I can at least spare you an experienced pilot and a copilot.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“I will have the ship prepped within five minutes.”

Fera looked around at her team. “Anyone that doesn’t want to come with me, you can stay here. I’ll understand. Those who wish to come and spit in the face of the Empire, you are invited to join me. I could sure use you on sensors.”

There was only a few seconds of confusion. Then, one by one, her entire team stood up.

If this doesn’t work…

Fera knew good and well what it would mean. It would mean another catastrophe. One worthy of another tattoo.

* * *

HIGH ABOVE HOTH

ABOARD THE IDT-7 DROPSHIP

A pair of cold blue eyes watched the viewport for enemies. Across countless battlefields those eyes had searched for enemies crossing in the night. They had also gazed deeply into the alleyways behind a hundred different spaceports, searching for enemies that might be tracking him. The eyes were tired, yet also alert. Ageless Void wanted to sleep. The exertion against a fellow Kingdom asset had worn him out completely. But now was not the time to sleep. They were so very close now—close to both freedom and death. If it wasn’t Hoth that killed them, it would be a TIE fighter squadron, and if not them, a turbolaser blast from a Star Destroyer in orbit.

Kevv, the Duros, kept glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, his hands nudging the controls, making minor course corrections.

Ageless sat in the copilot’s seat. He smelled the Duros’ sweat, as well as his own. He tasted blood in his mouth. His body was still and yet the muscles quaked just beneath the surface, ready for action at a moment’s notice.

He watched the sensors. Gripped the blaster in his hand. It felt heavy.

“That was a good idea back there,” Kevv finally said. For a long time, there had been only silence and the dull roar of the engines behind them. “Having me tilt the ship so you could throw him out. Good trick.”

Ageless looked at him, then looked back at the sensors. He had filled Kevv in on Sark’s attack, and how he and Mordenta had narrowly survived. “Just keep your eyes on the skies.”

Kevv nodded. “Right.”

“Sensors are showing energy flare-ups in space above us.”

“Probably an exchange between our people and yours.”

Ageless nodded. Then he thought, Our people and yours. Did he even have a people anymore? Decades spent in the service of the Empire, blood spilt on half a hundred worlds and friends lost, their souls slipping free while he cradled their bodies in his hand. And all because he had done his job thoroughly, investigating Rebels and going wherever those leads led him, and in so doing exposing corrupt leadership. Corruption of all the leadership in the Kingdom. It doesn’t seem possible.

So, what had his sacrifices meant?

He looked over at the Duros in his orange flight suit, the uniform of a Rebel pilot. Ageless had killed countless of Kevv’s friends, and surely he must know that, yet here they both sat, relying on one another to survive. What funny bedfellows war made.

Footsteps came up behind him. By reflex, he tensed.

“Well, the good news is the thermal detonator didn’t damage anything important,” Mordenta said, entering the cockpit. “Life-support and other systems seem okay.”

“I suppose we were due for some good news,” Kevv remarked.

“Overdue,” Ageless amended.

The Human looked at him. “We need to talk.”

Ageless had seen this coming. He waved her to sit in the bucket seat behind the pilot’s seat, and she did so. He noticed the blaster pistol in her hand, not holstered. But it wasn’t aimed at him presently, just resting in her lap, so that was a good sign. “I want to know what your intentions are once we make it out of this.”

“Once we make it out? So you like our chances?”

Mordenta shrugged. “I’m an optimist.”

He chuckled. “You need to know I won’t kill you both and take this ship once your people have opened enough of a gap for us to escape.” He looked at her. “That what you’re asking?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“You’re also aware that there is no way either one of us can truly trust what the other one promises, right?”

She nodded again.

“Well, let’s look at it. This ship doesn’t have a hyperdrive. Now, unless I’m able to somehow commandeer a Star Destroyer, I’m not getting out of here unless your people on the Shadow can somehow scoop us and take us away.”

“So you’re saying you’ll behave as long as you need us.”

“I’m saying it’s the best I can give you in lieu of a promise, since I’m sure a promise would mean precisely sithspit to you.” Ageless eyed her a moment, wondering about this woman’s true intentions. How badly must she hate him for the things he had done? Now that she knew he was part of the Kingdom, her disgust must be bottomless. Days ago, his disgust would be tantamount to hers. But a lot had changed, and Ageless no longer knew how he felt about anything, or anyone, or any cause. He believed the Empire was the last great chance to bring stability to the galaxy, and yet he had not only uncovered proof that elements of IIS were using Rebel channels to hide their financial crimes, but the upper echelons were apparently involved.

So what does that say about any institution of law and order?

“You said you would give us someone,” Mordenta went on. “Someone named Zumter?”

He nodded. “If you want someone worthwhile, he’s about as big a catch as you can get, short of Vader himself.”

“So, is that your deal? Give us Zumter and then you go…where?”

He gave a tired smile. “Anywhere but Hoth, I can tell you that.”

Mordenta did not smile, but he thought he detected a glint of humor in her eyes. Those eyes looked as tired as his own, and Ageless imagined they had seen just as much. They were two operators working on different sides, and yet they understood the game. If the roles were reversed, he would suspect her of a last-minute betrayal just as much.

Betrayal was easy for him to imagine now. Far too easy. He recalled the glimmer in Zumter’s eyes, just before he pulled the trigger…

His mind wandered. The days peeled back, exposing the painful memory. The day of the invasion of Echo Base…