Teller nodded back at her. “Yeah, Hask, except for one thing—”
“We’re the good guys,” Anora said, pinning Teller with a sardonic look.
Back in uniform and hands clasped behind his back, Tarkin stood side by side with Vader at the center of the Goliath’s bridge, their presence imbuing the cabinspace with a sense of uncharacteristic urgency.
“Anything?” Tarkin sharply asked the noncom seated at the communications board.
“Nothing, sir.”
“Keep trying.”
The escort carrier was still in Phindar space, in part so that Tarkin could iron out responsibility for the tanker’s destruction with the planetary leadership. Off to his left sat the ship’s ashen-faced commander, not yet over the fact that he had nearly been made answerable for the deaths of the few starfighter pilots who had survived the fierce engagement with the Carrion Spike.
While he didn’t show it, Tarkin felt more accountable than the commander realized. He and Vader had been baited and had come close to paying the price for rushing headlong into a trap. He took himself to task for his overconfidence at having predicted where the shipjackers would turn up, and promised that he wouldn’t allow himself to make the same mistake twice. That the Goliath’s arrival had taken the shipjackers by surprise only made their cunning escape all the more impressive.
A tone sounded from the comm board and Tarkin stepped forward in a rush, realizing at once that he had been premature.
“Report from Phindar’s rescue-and-recovery operation, sir,” the noncom said after listening to her headset feed for a moment. “They suspect that the tanker was destroyed by an explosive device concealed inside a spent fuel cell.”
“Then the dissidents weren’t merely attempting to use the tanker as cover,” Tarkin said. “They were hoping to draw us in, as much to avoid having to face the storm of our unexpected arrival as in the hope that we, too, would be caught up in the explosion.”
A short holovid of the clash, the ensuing chase, and the explosion had been received three hours earlier by a couple of local systems. The delayed transmission of the holovid told Tarkin that the shipjackers had waited until the Carrion Spike emerged from hyperspace, which also provided him with some idea of the distance the ship had traveled, though not in which direction.
Turning to Vader, he said, “Perhaps it would have been wiser to target the tanker from the start.”
Vader folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “The Emperor would not have approved.”
Tarkin regarded him. It was an odd comment coming from Vader, given the atrocities he had perpetrated for the Emperor since the end of the war. He wondered if Vader was testing him, just as he felt the Emperor had been doing during their most recent meeting.
“If we aren’t willing to do whatever is required,” he said finally, “then we risk losing what we have been mandated to protect.”
The remark paraphrased something Skywalker had said to him following the Citadel rescue. But it got no reaction from Vader beyond his saying, “You misunderstand, Governor. As I said, we need to gather all of them in our net.”
The comm board chimed again, this time with better and more anticipated news.
“Sir, we’re receiving location coordinates from the tracking device.”
Tarkin didn’t bother to hide his excitement. “The Phindian administrator did one thing right. I was almost certain he lied to me.”
Vader nodded. “He served the Empire well in his final moments.”
Tarkin stood behind the noncom at the comm board. “What is the source of the transmissions?”
The noncom waited for interface data to arrive from the Goliath’s navicomputer. “Sir, the source is sector-designated as LCC-four-four-seven. Parsec equidistant from the Sumitra and Cvetaen systems.”
“Those are Coreward — in the Expansion Region,” Tarkin said, with genuine unease.
“Yes, sir. Closest principal planets are Thustra and Aquaris.”
Vader looked at Tarkin. “Now, Governor, we get to spring the trap.”
One of the few areas of the former Jedi Temple that had not undergone renovation was the holographic galactic map, an enormous globular representation of the galaxy located mid-level in what had been the Jedi Council spire. The Order had used the map to keep track of its far-flung members; now it served to identify trouble spots in the Emperor’s realm.
The Emperor had consented to allowing the members of his Ruling Council to confer with representatives of the intelligence services in the hope that Tarkin and Vader’s latest strategy would conclude the search for the Moff’s ship and bring the shipjackers’ co-conspirators to light. While no less irritated by the fact that a group of insignificant mutants from the galactic underbelly were scurrying about trying to stir up trouble, curiosity had gotten the better of him. Mere eddies in the current of the dark side had transformed into rapids and whirlpools.
He sat in a simple chair atop a podium not unlike the one in the audience chamber, with some of his colorfully clothed advisers arrayed beneath him — Mas Amedda, Ars Dangor, Janus Greejatus, and Kren Blista-Vanee. Intelligence chiefs Ison and Rancit stood opposite the Ruling Council members, making their cases from a circular walkway secured to the curved wall of the spire at the base of the holographic globe.
“My lord, Vice Admiral Rancit and I do find ourselves in agreement on one issue,” Ison was in the midst of saying. “If Governor Tarkin is going to continue to make unilateral decisions of the sort he made at Phindar, then he should be doing so on Coruscant, coordinating the efforts of the Imperial military instead of chasing his errant corvette all over the Outer Rim.”
Rancit waited until he was certain that Ison had spoken his piece. “My lord, with the Carrion Spike now reported to be in the Expansion Region, this crisis takes on greater exigency. It’s possible that the dissidents’ plan calls for the corvette to be joined by the warship—”
“I’m not interested in what is possible, Vice Admiral,” the Emperor interrupted. “I’m interested in knowing your plans for dealing with the possibilities.”
Rancit bowed his head. “Of course, my lord. Though I must stress that Naval Intelligence has detected unusual activity throughout that sector of the Expansion Region, as if unknown parties are attempting to flood certain star systems with traffic.”
The Emperor leaned toward him. “As you are flooding star systems with our warships.”
Rancit blinked and stood tall. “My lord, we are simply attempting to safeguard our interests in those systems. Given the path the dissidents have pursued, it is — that is, we think it reasonable to assume that they are intent on targeting systems in the Inner Rim, from which potential hyperspace jump points and destinations will multiply beyond measure. We have taken the liberty of declaring some key systems no-entry zones, but the need to allocate resources to other systems grows only more complicated.”
The Emperor’s gaze favored Ison. “Do you disagree with the vice admiral, Deputy Director?”
“Not entirely, my lord. The increased activities Vice Admiral Rancit alludes to could be the result of holovids transmitted from the Carrion Spike. COMPNOR surveillance and investigation operatives in several sectors have noted an increase in both anti-Imperial propaganda and mobilization among malcontent groups. ISB is making arrests and interrogating prisoners in various Imperial facilities in an effort to learn the identity of the culprits. As odd as it sounds, my lord, we have also been receiving intelligence from the Crymorah syndicate, which apparently shared some nefarious affiliation with the criminal subcontractors who operated Phindar’s fueling station.”