“As if by the power of voice alone he could dislodge me from my perch, Lord barked louder than the rest combined. After all, it was incumbent on him to deal with this intruder. But before he had a chance to act, Shadow issued another series of vocal clackings that prompted his followers to launch an attack on the Spike from all sides, their lethal claws scoring the volcanic glass with a sound that made every nerve in my body jangle. As if intent on splitting my attention, some feinted while others leapt as high as their legs could carry them. They roared and gnashed their big, triangular teeth, but I refused to give in to fear. Moreover, something unusual was going on. The attacks by Shadow’s minions were chaotic, nothing at all like the well-coordinated exercises I had watched them utilize during hunts. The turmoil sent Lord into a rage. Desperate to restore order, he batted at the young males who were charging back and forth or trying to gain purchase on the glass. He drew blood from a few but was unable to control them.
“I glanced at Shadow in time to hear him issue a low, warbling groan, and at once the young males turned on Lord with teeth and claws set to one purpose. For a moment the old veermok champion seemed too confused to respond, almost as if the communal attack violated their code of behavior, some etiquette particular to the species. Quickly, though, he realized that he had to fight for his life, and he gave himself over to defending himself, killing three of the young males before the rest finally got the better of him. And throughout it all, Shadow didn’t move a muscle.”
“An assassination,” Vader said. “With you providing the necessary distraction.”
Tarkin nodded. “An opportunity they had long been waiting for.”
“And the pretender — Shadow?”
Tarkin forced an exhale. “I gave the veermoks a moment to laud their new leader, then I hurled my lance and promptly killed him.
“I might as well have dropped a bomb on the hill. One moment the young veermoks didn’t know what to make of their victory in overcoming Lord; now they behaved as if they had nowhere to turn. Without a leader, a true inheritor, they fell victim to a kind of bewildered grief, an almost existential despair. They dropped to their bellies and stared up at me in almost docile expectation. I didn’t trust them, but I had no option but to descend the Spike at sunset, and when I threaded among them to retrieve my lance from Shadow’s inert body, not one of them loosed even so much as a growl, and they actually followed me down the hill.”
“What was your uncle’s reaction?” Vader asked.
“Jova said it was good to see me in one piece, particularly since he and the others had wagered that my bones would be joining those of my ancestors.” Tarkin paused before adding: “The following morning, the veermok troop abandoned the hill and the Spike. They left the plateau and weren’t seen again.”
“They failed to realize what they would bring down on themselves by turning on their leader,” Vader said.
“Precisely.”
“Then you are the last Tarkin to have passed the test.”
Tarkin nodded. “That particular test, yes.”
By then they had reached the shuttle bay. Tarkin walked alongside Vader to the foot of the ramp.
“Safe journey, Lord Vader. Be sure to give the pretender my regards.”
“Rest assured, Governor Tarkin.”
With an abrupt nod of his head and a swirl of his black cloak, Vader disappeared up the ramp and Tarkin started for the Star Destroyer’s command bridge.
Dissolution
THE SECUTOR-CLASS Star Destroyer Conquest hung in fixed orbit above the Carida Imperial Navy Deepdock Facility Two, some half a million kilometers from the eponymous planet. On the bridge Vice Admiral Rancit received an update from the ship’s commander.
“Sir, the Carrion Spike has reverted to realspace, bearing zero-zero-three ecliptic. Target is acquired, firing solutions have been computed, and all starboard batteries are standing by.”
Rancit took a final look at the myriad ships that made up the task force, and turned from the bridge viewport. “Prepare to fire on my command.”
“Awaiting your word—”
“Belay that command,” a voice boomed from the rear of the command bridge.
Rancit, the commander, and several nearby officers and specialists turned in unison to see Darth Vader storming forward on the elevated walkway, his cape billowing behind him, a squad of armed stormtroopers marching in step in his black wake.
“Lord Vader,” Rancit said in genuine surprise. “I wasn’t informed you were aboard.”
“With purpose, Vice Admiral,” Vader said, then swung to the bridge officer. “Commander, direct your technicians to scan the Carrion Spike for life-forms.”
The commander looked to Rancit, who returned a dubious nod. “Do as he orders.”
Vader came to a halt in the center of the walkway and put his gloved hands on his hips, fingers forward. “Well, Commander?”
The commander straightened from peering at a console over the shoulder of one of the specs. “The scanners aren’t picking up any life signs.” He glanced at Rancit in confusion. “Sir, the corvette is deserted, and appears to be astrogating on autopilot.”
Rancit shook his head in denial. “But that can’t be.”
Vader looked at him. “Your co-conspirators abandoned the ship before it jumped to hyperspace, Vice Admiral.”
Alarm found its way into Rancit’s perplexity. “My co-conspirators, Lord Vader?”
“Don’t act surprised,” Vader said. “This entire charade was yours from the start.”
Rancit tightened his fists and worked his jaw while the warship’s commander and the rest exchanged worried glances. When he began to move toward one of the forward chairs, Vader raised his hand and clenched it.
“Stay right where you are, Vice Admiral.” Vader pointed his finger at the bridge officer. “Order the commanders of the task force flotilla to stand down from general quarters.”
The bridge officer nodded and walked backward to the communications board. “Immediately, Lord Vader.”
Vader turned to Rancit once more.
“You made a deal with some of your former intelligence assets. Displeased with certain events that occurred at the end of the war, they were seeking a way to avenge themselves on the Empire, and you provided one. You allowed them access to confiscated technologies, and you facilitated the theft of Governor Tarkin’s ship after luring him into your plot with counterfeit holotransmissions. You supplied them with tactical information along the way, and by doing so you are complicit in the deaths of thousands of Imperial effectives and the destruction of Imperial facilities.”
Vader paced to the viewports and returned, positioning himself a meter from Rancit.
“You assured your co-conspirators that they would be allowed to strike at Carida and continue their reign of terror. But in fact you planned to betray them here, seeing to their deaths and so eliminating everyone who had been witness to your treachery. By having predicted where they would show themselves and by having put an end to their campaign, you would have earned the approval of the Emperor and … And what, Vice Admiral? Exactly what did you hope to achieve?”
Rancit regarded him with sudden loathing. “You of all people need to ask?”
Vader said nothing for a long moment, then approximated a sniff. “Power, Admiral? Influence? Perhaps you simply felt overlooked, that you, too, should have been named a Moff.”