Tarkin had also learned that the contentious debate between Imperial Security and Naval Intelligence on how best to proceed had yet to subside, especially with the Carrion Spike on the loose once more, hiding in hyperspace or lurking in some remote or unpopulated star system. It appeared, however, that Vice Admirals Rancit and Screed were currently the gears getting the most grease, as the Admiralty had been granted permission by the Emperor to deploy forces to unprotected worlds along the Perlemian Trade Route and the Hydian Way. That, in any case, was how the Goliath came to be at Nam Chorios, and apparently why the Liberator had been deemed needed at Ord Cestus.
No sooner had the support carrier arrived than Vader had had himself ferried aboard, as it had brought from Coruscant his personal starfighter.
Tarkin had been busy since he and Vader had parted company, speaking with Commander Cassel at Sentinel Base, with intelligence assets on Murkhana, and with the commanders of Imperial posts throughout the sector; and as well with Wullf Yularen — who had his hands full keeping the peace among the intelligence agencies. Tarkin had spent the past ten hours in the Liberator’s data center, poring over star maps and charts and performing complex calculations.
He needed sleep, but sleep would have to wait until after he met with Vader.
The shuttle’s wings folded upward as it lazed through a magcon field into the support escort’s main hangar. The ship’s commander and a dozen of his top officers and black-uniformed noncoms were standing eyes-front on the deck as Tarkin descended the ramp. Alongside the group stood a full company of stormtroopers, in addition to Sergeant Crest and the remaining six members of Vader’s personal detail.
“Welcome aboard, Governor Tarkin,” the commander said, stepping out of line to greet him.
“Good to see you again, Ros. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“We’ll just have to make them better.”
Tarkin smiled without amusement “Where is Lord Vader?”
“Starfighter bay. I’ll escort you.” The commander turned to dismiss the others, then gestured politely to Tarkin and set off across the deck.
It took only moments to reach the starfighter bay, where the commander left Tarkin to his business. Tarkin didn’t need to look far for Vader’s starfighter, as it was the only Eta-2 among a squadron of V-wings. The absence of color might have struck Tarkin as a dramatic choice had black not been the Dark Lord’s preferred color. What’s more, many pilots during the war had made an effort to distinguish themselves, so why not Vader now?
Vader was standing between the weapons arms of the craft’s split prow tinkering with something, while a silver astromech droid stood by, plugged into a portable diagnostics unit. Without so much as a word of greeting from Tarkin, Vader turned and stepped out from between the forward laser cannons.
“I trust that your fighter weathered the jump from Ord Mantell in good repair,” Tarkin said.
“Not entirely, Governor, but the starfighter’s troubles do not concern me at the moment. What have you learned?”
Tarkin lifted an eyebrow. “An interesting question, Lord Vader.”
The foul humor Vader had been in since the attack at Lucazec hadn’t faded. “I am not referring to lessons, Governor. Do you have new information?”
Tarkin nodded. “Something we need to discuss in strict confidence.”
Vader turned to respond to a series of urgent twitters from the droid, then wordlessly led Tarkin to a small unoccupied situation room adjacent to the starfighter bay. The room featured a holotable and an array of communications modules.
“Our isolation is assured,” Vader said. “Now: What have you learned?”
“I believe I have discovered a way to predict where the Carrion Spike will next emerge.”
“Your prediction will need to improve greatly on our hunch at Galidraan, Governor.”
“I’ve removed some of the guesswork.”
Vader waited.
“Several things before I speak to my forecast. First, the device serial numbers we recorded on Murkhana indicate that the components were in fact part of a Separatist communications cache confiscated by the Republic during the war and warehoused in an Imperial depot until they disappeared sometime within the past three years.”
“Disappeared,” Vader said. “Like the warship modules and droids you traced from Sentinel Base.”
“Precisely. Sold, stolen, or perhaps given away.”
“All three possibilities imply the conspiracy of insiders.”
Tarkin smiled with purpose. “There’s more. The dissidents’ attack on the Galidraan wheel was especially well timed, in that a Victory-class Star Destroyer had jumped from the system not an hour before the Carrion Spike arrived.”
Vader considered it. “The dissidents knew.”
Tarkin nodded. “They may be working in tandem with a scout ship. Or perhaps with the warship observed at Sentinel Base.”
“Or receiving help from the same insiders who provided them with confiscated equipment.” Vader paused. “The Emperor wishes to make an example of them, Governor. But he demands that we reel all of them in, not simply those who pirated your ship.”
“And so we shall, if my calculations are correct.”
Again, Vader waited.
Tarkin prized his datapad from the pocket of his tunic and tasked it to interface with the holoprojector table. A rotund star map resolved in midair, which Tarkin manipulated from the datapad. The Carrion Spike’s movements were indicated by a zigzagging red line, annotated by measurements and calculations.
“Fuel consumption,” Vader said after a moment.
“I should have known you’d be ahead of me.”
“I am not unfamiliar with the method, Governor.”
Vader didn’t offer an explanation, so Tarkin went on, using his forefinger to highlight his statements.
“The ship was fully fueled when it left Sentinel Base. We didn’t bother refueling on Coruscant for the jump to Murkhana, as there was more than an ample supply for the round trip. From Murkhana, however, the ship jumped first to Fial, then to Galidraan, and then to Lucazec. We have no way of assessing let alone knowing where the corvette is at present — whether it is in hyperspace or parked in some local star system — but either way its fuel is in short supply. And unless the shipjackers have completed their mission — a supposition I find highly unlikely — fuel has to be their next priority.”
Tarkin made adjustments to the star map, magnifying an area of the local sector. “Fuel requirements for the Carrion Spike are not ordinary, and replenishment sites out here are few and far between. In fact, calculations suggest only two options: here”—Tarkin pointed—“at Gromas, in the Perkell sector, or here, at Phindar, in the Mandalore sector.”
Vader circled the star map twice before coming to a halt and looking at Tarkin. “As it happens, Governor, I am acquainted with both worlds.”
Now Tarkin waited, but once more the Dark Lord offered no explanation.
“Like Lucazec,” Tarkin continued, “Gromas supports a mining operation — for phrik, I believe—”
“Yes,” Vader said.
“The Empire has a depot there that includes a full range of fuel options. Phindar, by contrast, was attacked by Separatists during the war, and hosts what is little more than a large tanker in fixed orbit. The property of a criminal cartel some twenty years ago, it is now operated by subcontractors as a fuel and service facility for Imperial starships.”
“Two options,” Vader said, “Gromas presenting more difficulties.”