“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.”
“What do we have parked at R/M, Colonel?”
“Several CR-ninety corvettes, two Carrack-class light cruisers, a couple of Victories, and a Venator-class destroyer — the Liberator.”
“Stand by, Colonel.” Tarkin muted the audio feed and swiveled toward Vader. “Are you reasonably certain that our particle beams wounded them?”
Vader nodded.
“If the hyperdrive is damaged, they might opt to lie low to effect repairs,” Tarkin said.
Vader nodded again. “Or go in search of replacement parts.”
“And if they’re not wounded?”
“Continue their mission,” Vader said with finality.
Tarkin fell silent for a long moment. Never having had an opportunity to put the Carrion Spike through her paces, the recent engagement had left him with an even more profound appreciation for the ship. “Why didn’t they kill us when they had the chance? Could it be they believe they were being pursued by the Sugi crime lord?”
“No,” Vader said sharply. “They know that we are here.”
“Then perhaps they didn’t kill us because they have a rendezvous or a schedule to keep?”
“Perhaps,” Vader said.
Tarkin swiveled in place. “Belderone?”
“Too heavily fortified — even for your corvette.”
“Felucia, then — in reprisal for the way the Republic left it.”
“Of no significance.”
“Rhen Var is merely an outpost … So: Nam Chorios?”
Vader took a moment to respond. “Instruct Belderone to send the Liberator there.”
Tarkin activated the headset microphone. “Colonel, we need to contact Belderone and Coruscant,” he started to say, then cut himself off on hearing Vader growl.
“What is it?”
“Whoever they are, they are resourceful.” The Dark Lord turned slowly from the viewports. “They have jettisoned the meditation chamber.”
The voice of the starfighter squadron commander issued from the enunciator. “Lord Vader, our scanners have detected an object—”
“Commander, order your pilots to open fire along that vector — lasers and proton torpedoes if they have them.”
“Lord Vader, we have a detonation,” the commander said a moment later.
Tarkin leapt from the chair to stand alongside Vader. “Did they hit the Carrion Spike?”
The answer was slow to arrive. “Lord Vader,” the commander said, “the enemy has taken out the system hyperspace buoy. Our sensors are also picking up wake rotation readings.”