New Republic warships had appeared unexpectedly, firing and firing upon the Shadow Academy. But then came the newly arrived fleet of Second Imperium ships, cobbled-together Star Destroyers, Imperial battle cruisers assembled from leftover pieces in reclaimed shipyards. The new fleet used the computer systems, hyperdrives, and turbolaser batteries that Qorl himself had helped to acquire.
But seeing the Second Imperium’s ships filled him with a sense of dismay. The new fleet lacked the grandeur and impressive presence of the original Imperial armada. Qorl had flown on the Death Star, served as part of Grand Moff Tarkin’s Imperial Star-fleet.
This new fighting force looked somewhat … desperate—as if people whose dreams stretched far beyond their resources had leaped into the fray.
Qorl saw the Second Imperium ships pounding the Rebel rescue fleet—but as he watched, the tide turned and clusters of nondescript ships attacked the Star Destroyers.
Then the Star Destroyers’ defensive shields suddenly and inexplicably went down, as if their own computers had switched them off. As if they had agreed to surrender!
Rebel battle cruisers fired into the opening at full strength, ripping great gashes in the hulls of the new Star Destroyers. What was going on? Why didn’t his comrades reestablish their shields?
As Qorl flew toward them, frantic to do something to help with the fight, fresh TIE fighters streamed out of the Star Destroyers and began to pound the Rebel ships, though they seemed no more than tiny gnats against Ackbar’s great fleet.
Qorl suddenly saw his chance to redeem himself. He had already been a traitor to his rescuers and friends and to the Second Imperium. No matter which choice he made, he would be cursed—he would never be able to live with either betrayal.
At the moment, though, Qorl could join the fight on the side of the Second Imperium and cause whatever damage he could … perhaps even die fighting. He was a TIE pilot. He had trained for this. Long ago, he had flown from the Death Star on a similar mission—and now he would make everything right again.
Qorl powered up his laser cannons, weapons that had last been fired against Norys’s ship to stop the bully’s murderous frenzy. Qorl could now use the weapons against his assigned targets: the Rebel Alliance.
His TIE fighter stormed into the fray from out of nowhere, firing on one of the Corellian gunships, leaving black scorch marks as he strafed along its side. Other TIE fighters joined him, flying in a barely recognizable attack pattern. These fleet members were obviously untrained, having spent very little time even in simulators. But the chaos served the new pilots well as the ships flew around each other, blasting and pummeling with no set goal but to cause damage.
The Rebel fleet responded with heavy turbolaser fire, lancing out in all directions. With a blinding glare, one of the Star Destroyers blew up, its command turret in flames. Another Star Destroyer went reeling, its defenses down; it turned in an attempt to limp away. The Rebel fleet pursued, all weapons blazing.
The Second Imperium was losing. Losing!
Qorl shot after the fleeing ships. Some of the TIE fighters sped off into space … though Qorl had no idea where they intended to go. Their flagships were destroyed and the Shadow Academy was under fire. Did they intend to give up?
“Surrender is betrayal,” he muttered to himself—and flew directly into the Rebel flagship’s line of fire.
Turbolaser bolts shot past, but Qorl dove forward, firing his insignificant laser cannons and diving down the gullet of the beast. He would never give up. This would be his final flash of glory.
The Rebels improved their aim—and the cross fire struck him. Qorl closed his eyes behind his TIE helmet, expecting to vanish in a bright puff of flame, a candle burning for his Emperor.
But the energy weapons had only managed to clip one of his engines and damage part of his power array.
Qorl’s TIE fighter spun out of control, away from the battle fleet. Even in his crash restraints, he was thrown from side to side inside his tiny cockpit. Qorl held on, expecting his ship to explode at any moment … all the while careening farther and farther away from the continuing space battle.
Still spinning, he saw that gravity had caught him. He was crashing again, plummeting toward the jungle moon of Yavin… .
19
Brakiss raced his high-speed, one-person shuttle away from Yavin 4 and streaked back toward his precious Shadow Academy. He punched the coded controls that would automatically open the launch-bay doors and provide him clear passage back into the safety of the Imperial training station.
The space battle did not concern him. It was just one other event that had gone wrong today.
His heart still pounded from his lightsaber battle with Skywalker down at the temple ruins. His thoughts spun, filled with the resonating words of his former Master. Anger and despair swirled like an uncontrollable storm through his mind, through his emotions.
Every method he knew failed to bring his thoughts back to the cold, quiet levels he required to draw on his fullest powers. Brakiss even attempted to use some of the hated calming techniques Skywalker had shown him back in his incognito student days—but nothing worked.
Everything was crumbling. His grandiose plans, his carefully trained Dark Jedi, the troops of the Second Imperium—it all faltered here on the verge of what should have been his greatest triumph, the hammer blow that would shake the galaxy. The destruction of the Jedi academy should have been a simple victory.
The Emperor would destroy Brakiss for this failure, but for now he could think only that the Emperor himself remained their last hope. Their only hope. Brakiss would accept his punishment later; for now he needed to do everything in his power to bring about a victory.
He brought his shuttle to dock in the nearly empty bay of the Shadow Academy, where not long ago rows of TIE fighters and TIE bombers had prepared for battle. Tamith Kai had launched her armored battle platform, riding down from orbit with her stormtroopers and Zekk’s squad of dark warriors. They had been proud, confident, sure of crushing the light-side Jedi… .
Brakiss climbed stiffly out of his shuttle, straightening his silvery robes, trying unsuccessfully to regain his dignity. Not wanting to be without a Jedi blade, he armed himself from a weapons alcove in the wall with another of the mass-produced lightsabers.
But how could he defend himself? He had seen Tamith Kai’s battle platform plunge into the river, a flaming hulk of molten slag. Zekk’s Dark Jedi had been routed, the TIE fighter squadrons mostly destroyed—and now Brakiss watched the Second Imperium’s powerful new fleet being trounced by Rebel battleships that had appeared out of nowhere and had somehow deactivated the Imperial shields!
Brakiss strode out of the docking bay into the near-deserted Shadow Academy. All capable troops had been sent to the surface. Only a few command teams remained here to keep the Imperial station secure.
The sterile corridors should have been hosting a victory celebration, but instead the place seemed like a tomb, an abandoned derelict. The Emperor must find some way to save them, Brakiss told himself, to turn the tide of battle so that the Second Imperium could rule the galaxy after all.
Palpatine had cheated death not once, but twice. After he had perished the first time aboard the second Death Star during the battle of Endor, he had managed to resurrect himself, using hidden clones to prolong his life. And though all those clones had presumably been destroyed, thirteen years later the Emperor was once again back from the dead—without an explanation this time.
Any man who accomplished such feats could surely manage to wrest victory away from a hodgepodge gang of Rebels and criminals, couldn’t he?
Holding his head up, trying to summon Imperial pride and hope, Brakiss marched down the steel-plated corridors toward the isolated section of the station. He had to see the Emperor, and he would not be turned away. The fate of the entire war hung on the next few moments!