The Last Command (34 page)

They’d needed some place where Ghent could set up shop without word or even rumors of the project leaking out, and a search of the Palace’s original blueprints had found them the ideal spot. It was an old backup power cell room, closed down and sealed years earlier, wedged in between the Sector Ordnance/Supply and Starfighter Command offices down on the command floor. Leia had cut a new entrance from a service corridor with her lightsaber; Bel Iblis had helped them run power cables and datalines; and Ghent had set up his decrypting program.

They had everything they needed. Except results.

Ghent was sitting in the room’s single chair when they arrived, staring dreamily off into space with his feet propped up on the edge of his decrypter desk. They were both inside, and Winter had closed the door, before he even noticed their presence. “Oh—hi,” he said, dropping his feet to the floor with a muffled thud.

“Not so loud, please,” Leia reminded him, wincing. The officers working on the other sides of the thin walls would probably ascribe any stray noises to the adjacent offices. But then again, they might not. “Has General Bel Iblis brought the latest transmissions in yet?” she asked.

“Yeah—about an hour ago,” Ghent nodded, whispering almost inaudibly now. “I just finished slicing ‘em.”

He tapped a key, and a series of decrypted messages came up on the display. Leia stepped up behind his chair, reading down them. Details of upcoming military deployments, what seemed to be verbatim transcriptions of high-level diplomatic conversations, tidbits of idle Palace gossip—as always, Delta Source had covered the whole range from the significant to the trivial.

“There’s one of ours,” Winter said, touching a spot on the display.

Leia read the item. An unconfirmed intelligence report from the Bpfassh system, suggesting that the
Chimaera
and its support ships had been spotted near Anchoron. That was one of theirs, all right. “How many heard that one?” she asked Winter.

“Only forty-seven,” Winter told her, already busy with Ghent’s data pad. “It was just before three yesterday afternoon—during the second Assemblage session—and the Grand Corridor was fairly empty.”

Leia nodded and turned back to the display. By the time Winter had finished her list she’d identified two more of their decoy messages. By the time Winter had finished those, she’d found another five.

“Looks like that’s it,” she said as Winter handed Ghent her first three lists and got to work on the others. “Let’s go ahead and run these through your sifter.”

“Okay,” Ghent said, throwing one last look of awe at Winter before turning back to his console. Three days into this scheme, he still hadn’t gotten over the way she could remember every single detail of fifty separate one-minute conversations. “Okay, let’s see. Correlations… okay. We’re down to a hundred twenty-seven possibilities. Mostly techs and admin types, looks like. Some offworld diplomats, too.”

Leia shook her head. “None of those are likely to have access to all of this information,” she said, waving at the decrypt display. “It has to be someone considerably higher up the command structure—”

“Wait a minute,” Ghent interrupted, raising a finger. “You want a big fish; you got one. Councilor Sian Tew of Sullust.”

Leia frowned at the display. “That’s impossible. He was one of the earliest leaders in the Rebel Alliance. In fact, I think he was the one who brought Nien Nunb and his private raiding squad over to us after the Empire forced them out of Sullust system.”

Ghent shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that. All I know is that he heard all fifteen of those little teasers that wound up on Delta Source’s transmitter.”

“It can’t be Councilor Tew,” Winter spoke up absently, still working at the data pad. “He wasn’t present during any of these last six conversations.”

“Maybe one of his aides heard it,” Ghent offered. “He didn’t have to be there personally.”

Winter shook her head. “No. One of his aides was present, but only for one of these conversations. More importantly, Councilor Tew
was
present for two conversations the day before yesterday that Delta Source didn’t transmit. Nine-fifteen in the morning and two-forty-eight in the afternoon.”

Ghent keyed up the relevant lists. “You’re right,” he confirmed. “Didn’t think about checking things that direction. Guess I’d better work up a better sifter program.”

Behind Leia their makeshift door swung open, and she turned to see Bel Iblis come in. “Thought I’d find you here,” he nodded to Leia. “We’re about ready to give the Stardust plan its first try, if you want to come and watch.”

The latest scheme to locate the swarm of cloaked asteroids Thrawn had left in orbit around Coruscant. “Yes, I do,” Leia said. “Winter, I’ll be in the war room when you’re finished here.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Leia and Bel Iblis left the room and headed single-file down the service corridor. “Find anything yet?” the general asked over his shoulder.

“Winter’s still running yesterday’s list,” Leia told him. “So far we’ve got around a hundred thirty possibilities.”

Bel Iblis nodded. “Considering how many of us there are working in the Palace, I’d say that qualifies as progress.”

“Maybe.” She hesitated. “It’s occurred to me that this scheme will only work if Delta Source is a single person. If it’s a whole group, we may not be able to weed them out this way.”

“Perhaps,” Bel Iblis agreed. “But I have a hard time believing we could have that many traitors here. Matter of fact, I still have trouble believing we have even one. I’ve always thought that Delta Source might be some kind of exotic recording system. Something Security simply hasn’t been able to locate yet.”

“I’ve watched them do counterintelligence sweeps,” Leia said. “I can’t think how they could possibly have missed anything.”

“Unfortunately, neither can I.”

They arrived in the war room, to find General Rieekan and Admiral Drayson standing behind the main command console. “Princess,” Rieekan greeted her gravely. “You’re just in time.”

Leia looked up at the master visual. An old transport had left the group of ships standing guard in far orbit and was making its careful way down toward the planet. “How far in is it going to come?” Leia asked.

“We’re going to start just above the planetary shield, Councilor,” Drayson told her. “The postbattle analysis indicates that most of the cloaked asteroids probably wound up in low orbit.”

Leia nodded. And since those would be the ones most likely to sneak through if they opened the shield, it made all the more sense to start there.

Slowly, moving with the tentative awkwardness of a ship under remote control, the transport came closer in. “All right,” Drayson said. “Transport One control, cut drive and prepare to dump on my command. Ready… dump.”

For a moment nothing happened. Then, abruptly, a cloud of brilliant dust began to billow from the aft end of the transport, swirling around lazily in the ship’s wake. “Keep it coming,” Drayson said. “
Harrier
, stand by negative ion beams.”

“All dust is clear of the transport, Admiral,” one of the officers reported.

“Transport One control, pull her away,” Drayson ordered.

“But slowly,” Bel Iblis murmured. “We don’t want to carve exhaust grooves through the dust.”

Drayson threw an annoyed look back at him. “Take it nice and slow,” he said grudgingly. “Do we have any readings yet?”

“Coming in very strong, sir,” the officer at the sensor console reported. “Between point nine-three and nine-eight reflection on all bands.”

“Good,” Drayson nodded. “Keep a sharp eye on it.
Harrier?
”

“
Harrier
reports ready, sir,” another officer confirmed.

“Fire negative ion beam,” Drayson ordered. “Lowest intensity. Let’s see how this works.”

Leia peered up at the visual. The shimmering dust particles were beginning to clump together as ions from the departing transport’s drive created random electrostatic charges throughout the cloud. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the hazy line of an ion beam appear on the master tactical display and sweep across the cloud. Charging all the dust particles with the same polarity so that they would repel each other… and suddenly the coalescing dust cloud was expanding again, spreading out across the visual display like the opening of some exotic flower.

“Cease fire,” Drayson said. “Let’s see if that does it.”

For a long minute the flower continued to open, and Leia found herself staring intently at the hazy glitter. Unreasonably, of course. Given how much space there was out there, it was highly unlikely that this first dump would happen to be in the path of any of the orbiting asteroids. And even if it was, there still would be nothing for her to see on the visual. Except at the moment before its collapse, the cloaking shield seemed to twist light and sensor beams perfectly around itself, which meant there would be no dark spot cutting visibly through the dust.

“Cloud’s starting to break up, Admiral,” the sensor officer reported. “Dissipation ratio is up to twelve.”

“Solar wind’s catching it,” Rieekan muttered.

“As expected,” Drayson reminded him. “Transport Two control: go ahead and launch.”

A second transport emerged from among the orbiting ships and headed down toward the surface. “This is definitely the slow way to do this,” Bel Iblis commented quietly.

“Agreed,” Rieekan said. “I wish they hadn’t lost that
CGT
array of yours out at Svivren. We could sure have used it here.”

Leia nodded. Crystal gravfield traps, originally designed to zoom in on the mass of sensor-stealthed ships from thousands of kilometers away, would be ideal for this job. “I thought Intelligence had a lead on another one.”

“They’ve got leads on three,” Rieekan said. “Problem is, they’re all in Imperial space.”

“I’m still not convinced a
CGT
would do us all that much good here,” Bel Iblis said. “This close in, I suspect that Coruscant’s gravity would swamp any readings we got from the asteroids.”

“It would be tricky—no doubt about that,” Rieekan agreed. “But I think it’s our best chance.”

They fell silent as, on the visual, the second transport reached its target zone and repeated the procedure of the first. Again, nothing.

“That solar wind is going to be a real nuisance,” Bel Iblis commented as the third transport headed out. “We may want to consider going with larger dust particles on the next batch.”

“Or shifting operations to the night side,” Rieekan suggested. “That would at least cut back the effect—”

“Turbulence!” the sensor officer barked. “Vector one-one-seven—bearing four-nine-two.”

There was a mad scramble for the sensor console. At the very edge of the still-expanding second dust cloud a hazy orange line had appeared, marking the turbulence created by the invisible asteroid’s passage. “Get a track on it,” Drayson ordered. “
Harrier
, fire at will.”

On the visual, red lines lanced out as the Dreadnaught’s turbolasers began to sweep across the projected path. Leia watched the visual, hands gripping the sensor officer’s chair back… and suddenly, there it was: a misshapen lump of rock, drifting slowly across the stars.

“Cease fire,” Drayson ordered. “Well done, gentlemen. All right,
Allegiant
, it’s your turn. Get your tech crew out there—”

He broke off. On the visual, a mesh of thin lines had appeared crisscrossing the dark bulk of the asteroid. For a brief moment they flared brilliantly, then faded away.

“Belay that order,
Allegiant
,” Drayson growled. “Looks like the Grand Admiral doesn’t want anyone else getting a look at his little toys.”

“At least we found one of them,” Leia said. “That’s something.”

“Right,” Rieekan said dryly. “Leaves just under three hundred to go,”

Leia nodded again and started to turn away. This was going to take a while, and she might as well get back to Winter and Ghent—

“Collision!” the sensor officer snapped.

She twisted back. On the visual the third transport was spinning wildly off course, its stern crushed and on fire, its cargo of dust spraying out in all directions.

“Can you get a track?” Drayson demanded.

The officer’s hands were skating across his board. “Negative—insufficient data. All I can do is a probability cone.”

“I’ll take it,” Drayson said. “All ships: open fire. Full-pattern bombardment; target cone as indicated.”

The cone had appeared on the tactical, and from the distant fleet turbolaser fire began to appear. “Open the cone to fifty percent probability,” Drayson ordered. “Battle stations, you take the outer cone. I want that target found.”

The encouragement was unnecessary. The space above Coruscant had become a fire storm, with turbolaser blasts and proton torpedoes cutting through the marked probability cone. The target zone stretched and expanded as the computers calculated the invisible asteroid’s possible paths, the ships and battle stations shifting aim in response.

But there was nothing there… and after a few minutes Drayson finally conceded defeat.

“All units, cease fire,” he said, his voice tired. “There’s no more point. We’ve lost it.”

There didn’t seem to be anything else to be said. In silence they stood and watched as the crippled transport, far out of range of the fleet’s tractor beams, spun slowly toward the planetary shield and its impending death. Its crushed stern skimmed the shield, and the fire of burning drive gases was joined by the sharp blue-white edge of shattered atomic bonds. A muffled flash as the stern broke away—a brighter flash as the bow hit the shield—scatterings of dark debris against the flame as the hull began to break up—

And with a final spattering of diffuse fire it was gone.

Leia watched the last flickers fade away, running through her Jedi calming exercises and forcing the anger from her mind. Allowing herself the luxury of hating Thrawn for doing this to them would only fog her own intellect. Worse, such hatred would be a perilous step toward the dark side.

There was a breath of movement at her shoulder, and she turned to see Winter at her side. The other woman was gazing up at the visual, a look of ancient pain deep in her eyes. “It’s all right,” Leia assured her. “There wasn’t anyone aboard.”