Anora’s voice issued through one of the speakers. “Air lock controls for the escape pods are fried.”
“We’re not going to be needing the pods, Anora. Move on.”
Hask’s voice was the next to ring out. “Fire in cargo hold three has been extinguished.”
“Lock down the hold and disable the exhaust fans,” Teller said quickly. “I don’t want us venting any smoke or fire-suppressant foam.” Clapping grit from his hands, he dropped himself into the comm officer’s chair. “Cala, where are you?”
The speaker crackled. “Aft maintenance bay. The hyperdrive generator seems to be operable, but it’s making some awfully strange noises. Don’t know what it will do when we jump. Can’t now, anyway, until self-diagnostics are complete.”
“How long?”
“Ten minutes. Fifteen at the most.” Cala’s forced exhalation could be heard through the speaker. “They knew just where to hit us, Teller.”
“Of course they did — it’s Tarkin’s ship!”
“And they tracked us through hyperspace again.”
Salikk spoke before Teller could reply. “The station has launched another squadron of starfighters. They’re flying search formations, radiating out from the Parsec Predator.”
Teller called up a magnified view of the incapacitated ship. “I was hoping they’d mistake the Predator for us, but Tarkin must still have limited comm.” He shook his head in vexation. “We must have put on quite a show for the station personnel.”
“The starfighters,” Salikk repeated.
Teller watched the ARC-170s and V-wings begin to fan out. “Do we have sublight?”
“We do. But I’m worried those starfighters will sniff out our ion signatures.”
“Worry more about Vader. He’s probably guiding them right to us.” Teller thought for a moment. “Take evasive action. Full silent running.”
Salikk glanced at him. “Shouldn’t we finish them off? I mean, when will we have another chance like this — to kill two of the Empire’s chief commanders?”
“They’re replaceable.”
“Tarkin, maybe. But Vader?”
“For all we know the Emperor has a dozen more like him in deep freeze. Besides, we need to make the most out of this ship while we’ve got her.”
Salikk nodded. “I reluctantly agree.”
“Reluctance is fine.” Teller swung toward the audio pickup. “Doc, where are you?”
“Cargo hold one,” Artoz said. “And there’s something here you need to see before we go to lightspeed.”
Teller looked at Salikk. “You okay here?”
“Go,” the Gotal said, fairly bleating the word.
Teller pushed himself out of the chair and hurried through the command cabin hatch into the afterdeck. Racing through the conference cabin, he took the starboard connector to the turbolift, only to find it unresponsive. He hurried back to the main cabin and took the emergency stairwell down one level to the engine room, then wormed his way through a narrow cofferdam that accessed the cargo holds. As he came through the hatch of cargo hold one, he saw Artoz crawling out from around a large black sphere set into a hexagonal dais that took up most of the hold.
“What’s so important I need to see it?”
The Mon Cal got to his big feet and gestured to the sphere. “This.”
Teller regarded the sphere from top to bottom. “Yeah, I saw this during our initial recon. What of it?”
“To begin with, do you know what it is?”
“Cala thinks it’s a component of the stealth system—”
“No, it is not,” Artoz cut in. “If the cloaking device was powered by hibridium, then yes, that would provide a possible explanation. But this ship’s stealth system runs on stygium crystals, which obviates the need for a device of this sort.”
“Okay,” Teller said in a tentative way.
Artoz indicated the sphere’s vertical seams. “The hemispheres are designed to separate longitudinally, but I can’t find a control panel or any way to prompt the device to open.”
Teller walked partway around the sphere. “You think it’s housing a tracker of some sort?”
“Our scanners haven’t detected any.”
Teller made his eyes bright with mystification. “So?”
“I think this is the homing beacon.”
Teller gaped at him.
“What I mean to say is that I think this belongs to Vader, and that Vader was able to follow us to Fial, then Galidraan, by tracking his property.”
Teller’s brow wrinkled. “Look, he may be more machine than man, but—”
“We’ve combed the ship forward-to-aft and belly-to-spine and found nothing in the way of a locator capable of tracking us through hyperspace.”
Teller’s comlink chimed before he could answer.
“The hyperdrive generator’s completed its self-test,” Cala updated. “It’s still protesting, but we should be good to go.”
“Then get down here.” He commed the cockpit. “Salikk, navigate to the jump point, but hold there until I give you the word. We’ve got something to take care of before we go to hyperspace.”
“Understood,” Salikk said.
“Oh, and one more thing: Destroy Galidraan’s hyperspace buoy on the way out. We don’t want anyone following us this time.”
Vader stood unmoving at the Predator’s forward viewports, the scarlet light of emergency illuminators reflecting off his helmet, the black orbs of his helmet mask seemingly fixed on the escaping Carrion Spike.
“Galidraan Station is dispatching a shuttle and readying their fastest corvette for pursuit,” Tarkin said from the copilot’s chair. “Sergeant Crest reports three dead.”
“Your ship is still in the system,” Vader said slowly. Then, turning his head, he barked, “Squadron Commander, are you hearing me?”
A warbling voice drifted from the cockpit nunciator. “Loud and clear, Lord Vader. Awaiting your orders.”
“Commander, direct your starfighter squadron toward the bright side of Galidraan Four’s outermost moon.”
“My scanners aren’t showing anything in that vicinity, Lord Vader.”
“I will supply all the targeting data you need, Commander.”
“Affirmative, Lord Vader. We’re keeping the battle and tactical nets open.”
Tarkin pressed the padded speaker of a comm headset to his left ear. “Station navicomputers are calculating all possible egress points.”
Vader clasped his hands behind his back. “The Perlemian Trade Route is a short jump from this system.”
“Escape is not their intention,” Tarkin said.
Vader turned away from the viewport to look at him.
“If escape were their plan,” Tarkin said, “they would have already done so.” He cleared his throat meaningfully. “No. They have something else in mind. Perhaps to strike at another target.” Once more he pressed the headpiece speaker to his ear, then toggled a switch that routed the audio feed to the enunciator.
“—calculations are ready, Governor Tarkin,” a deep voice announced. “We’re transmitting them to the shuttle, so that you and Lord Vader will have immediate access to them.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” Tarkin said into the headset mike. “In the meantime, I want a list of local systems that host Imperial resources.”
“I can provide that information now, Governor. We have a large garrison in the Felucia system. Rhen Var has a small dirtside outpost. Nam Chorios has both a mining colony and a small Imperial prison facility. We have additional outposts at Trogan and Jomark. And of course, the naval base and R/M Facility Four deepdock at Belderone.”