Tarkin scrolled through the list several times, returning after each read-through to a Mon Cal starship systems engineer named Artoz, who had gone missing shortly after Teller. “Dr. Artoz,” as he was apparently affectionately known, was a former member of the Mon Cal Knights, a group that had fought against his planet’s Separatist-aligned Quarren. Artoz certainly would have known about the Carrion Spike, as parts for the corvette’s stygian crystal stealth system had been manufactured at Mon Cal shipyards after the concept-design team had given up on attempts to utilize hibridium.
Tarkin blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stared at the midair holograms.
What about Bracchia, the Koorivar asset on Murkhana? Was he involved in the plot, despite the part he had played in procuring a replacement starship?
Were the Crymorah crime families involved?
What about the crew of the freighter Reticent? Had they perhaps been aboard the cobbled-together warship that had attacked Sentinel Base?
Then there was the matter of the warship itself. Who had funded the purchase of the modules, droids, and starfighters? Where and by whom had the ship been assembled? Just how wide reaching was the conspiracy? Did it involve only former Republic Intelligence operatives, or did it penetrate Imperial agencies, as well?
Sentients, like animals, have their fussy behaviors, Jova would say. Learn the particulars of one, and you begin to understand the entire species.
If Tarkin’s hypothesis about Antar 4 being the nexus of the conspiracy was correct, could the involvement of the Reticent’s crew owe to something as simple as having lost friends or relatives to the mass executions? Relatives who were perhaps affiliated with Teller’s partisans?
Tarkin continued to scan the 3-D images.
If he was right and he was actually looking at those who had stolen his ship and discovered how to replicate the Clone Wars Shadowfeeds, then as it happened they were not former Separatists nursing a grudge against the Empire, but rather former Republican loyalists with a vendetta.
Supreme Chancellor Palpatine’s onetime allies had become the Emperor’s new foes.
Saving his research to an encrypted file, Tarkin thought: The trail continues beyond where you lose it.
Were the dissidents leading him on a chase calculated to disguise their actual objective?
The thread that had begun to unspool at Sentinel Base could end at only one point.
The Carrion Spike stumbled out of hyperspace to an interstellar reversion point ten parsecs from Nouane. The near miss in the autonomous region had left the corvette so rattled that, for a long while, the damaged navicomputer couldn’t even establish where the ship was. It was easier now to list the instruments that were still functioning than those that were damaged beyond repair.
“We have two forward laser cannons and one starboard battery,” Cala reported to the others in the corvette’s main cabin, where Artoz was tending to Salikk’s facial injuries. “Shields are down to nothing. Hull armor’s the only thing protecting us from a collision with space dust. Hyperdrive motivator is marginal, but probably good for one, possibly two more jumps—”
“One is all we need,” Teller said, while the ship groaned like a wounded animal and Salikk’s shed fur wafted in all directions.
“Stealth systems and sublight drives are hit or miss,” the Koorivar continued. “Same with communications and the HoloNet.”
Hask gave her pert-eared head a woeful shake. “We don’t come off very well in the vids the Empire released of the Nouane engagement.”
“There go our ratings,” Artoz said.
Anora scowled at him and threw Teller a peeved look. “So much for trusting your ally to hold up his end of the bargain.”
“I said I trusted him up to a point,” Teller shot back. “If I trusted him entirely, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”
The remark was not an exaggeration. Had the Carrion Spike decanted in the Nouane system at the anticipated reversion point, she would have been instantly annihilated by Imperial fire. Instead, Teller had had Salikk decant the ship deeper in system, as far from the capital ships as was feasible. Regardless, they had been forced to make a run for it without firing a beam at the star system’s Imperial facility, its inconsequence notwithstanding. Boxed in and pounded by laserfire, they had jumped to lightspeed with a maneuver that in itself had been no mean feat.
“Besides,” Teller went on, “he had to make it look real.”
Anora loosed a bitter laugh. “They weren’t just making it look real, Teller. Face facts: We’ve been betrayed.”
Teller snorted a bitter laugh. “Probably. But in the end it won’t matter.” He looked at Salikk, then Artoz. “Is he going to be all right, Doc?”
“I’ll live,” Salikk said for himself. “At least for long enough to finish this.”
“The autopilot also survived,” Cala said.
Teller blew out his breath and nodded. “Then we’re good to go on that score. Plus, we’ve been assured of clear skies.”
“As long as he’s still convinced we’re on our way,” Anora said.
Teller nodded. “The Carrion Spike will arrive on schedule.”
“You realize that the Empire won’t rest until we’re found and dealt with,” Artoz said.
Hask glanced around. “Assuming anyone’s figured out who we are.”
“I wouldn’t put it past Tarkin and Vader — not with the Reticent crew in hand.” Teller compressed his lips. “Even if not, we’ll be given up at some point.”
Cala grinned. “Fortunately, we’ve all grown accustomed to looking over our shoulders.”
The Carrion Spike
ON THE COMMAND WALKWAY of the Executrix, Tarkin waited for Vader to conclude a private holocommunication with the Emperor.
“Vice Admiral Rancit is convinced that the dissidents intend to attack the Imperial academy at Carida, martyring themselves in the process,” Vader said when he emerged from one of the data pits. “The vice admiral has been given permission to redeploy as many vessels as he sees fit, and he himself will be commanding all elements of the task force.”
Tarkin scoffed. “The dissidents’ last stand?”
“Someone’s last stand,” Vader said. “The Emperor has given careful thought to your premise that his onetime allies have now become his foes.”
“I’m relieved to hear that, Lord Vader. Then we three are in agreement?”
Vader nodded solemnly. “We are.”
Tarkin smiled in a self-satisfied way. “A shuttle is waiting to take you to the frigate.”
Vader nodded again and started to move off, only to stop and turn back to Tarkin. “Tell me, Governor Tarkin, why did you choose to name the corvette the Carrion Spike?”
Tarkin allowed his surprise to show. “The ship is named for a unique geographic feature on Eriadu, Lord Vader.” When he realized that Vader was waiting for a more complete explanation, he said, “Allow me to accompany you to the shuttle bay.”
As they set off side by side, Tarkin began to tell Vader about his annual visits to the Carrion Plateau as a teenager, about the tests he had endured there, and about the training he had undergone at the hands of his wilderness-experienced elder relatives and various guides. Vader paid close attention, interrupting him several times to ask for clarification or additional detail. As Tarkin obliged, one part of him took note of how strange it felt to be having an actual dialogue with the Dark Lord. In the recent days they had spent together, their exchanges had been limited to a few sentences, and more typically had been one-sided. Vader’s mask was responsible for some of that, complicating the process of conversation. But just now Vader’s frequent downward glances suggested that he was actually listening; so Tarkin went on talking, opening up about his experiences on the plateau while they continued down the Executrix’s broad central corridor toward the waiting shuttle.