[Book] [Thrawn Trilogy] The Last Command, E-BOOKI EN, pobierz pdf

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Star WarsThe Last CommandbyTimothy ZahnCHAPTER 1Gliding through the blackness of deep space, theImperial Star Destroyer Chimaera pointed its mightyarrowhead shape toward the dim star of its target system,three thousandths of a light-year away. And prepared itselffor war."All systems show battle ready, Admiral," the commofficer reported from the portside crew pit. "The task forceis beginning to check in.""Very good, Lieutenant," Grand Admiral Thrawn nodded."Inform me when all have done so. Captain Pellaeon?""Sir?" Pellaeon said, searching his superior's face forthe stress the Grand Admiral must be feeling. The stress hehimself was certainly feeling. This was not just anothertactical strike against the Rebellion, after all-not a minorshipping raid or even a complex but straightforward hit-and-fade against some insignificant planetary base. After nearlya month of frenzied preparations, Thrawn's master campaignfor the Empire's final victory was about to be launched.But if the Grand Admiral was feeling any tension, hewas keeping it to himself. "Begin the countdown," he toldPellaeon, his voice as calm as if he were ordering dinner."Yes, sir," Pellaeon said, turning back to the group ofone-quarter-size holographic figures standing before him inthe Chimaera's aft bridge hologram pod. "Gentlemen: launchmarks. Bellicose: three minutes.""Acknowledged, Chimaera," Captain Aban nodded, hisproper military demeanor not quite masking his eagerness totake this war back to the Rebellion. "Good hunting."The holo image sputtered and vanished as the Bellicoseraised its deflector shields, cutting off long-rangecommunications. Pellaeon shifted his attention to the nextimage in line. "Relentless: four point five minutes.""Acknowledged," Captain Dorja said, cupping his rightfist in his left in an ancient Mirshaf gesture of victory ashe, too, vanished from the hologram pod.Pellaeon glanced at his data pad. "Judicator: sixminutes.""We're ready, Chimaera," Captain Brandei said, hisvoice soft. Soft, and just a little bit wrong. . . .Pellaeon frowned at him. Quarter-sized holos didn'tshow a lot of detail, but even so the expression onBrandei's face was easy to read. It was the expression of aman out for blood."This is war, Captain Brandei," Thrawn said, coming upsilently to Pellaeon's side. "Not an opportunity forpersonal revenge.""I understand my duty, Admiral," Brandei said stiffly.Thrawn's blue-black eyebrows lifted slightly. "Do you,Captain? Do you indeed?"Slowly, reluctantly, some of the fire faded fromBrandei's face. "Yes, sir," he muttered. "My duty is to theEmpire, and to you, and to the ships and crews under mycommand.""Very good," Thrawn said. "To the living, in otherwords. Not to the dead."Brandei was still glowering, but he gave a dutiful nod."Yes, sir.""Never forget that, Captain," Thrawn warned him. "Thefortunes of war rise and fall, and you may be assured thatthe Rebellion will be repaid in full for their destructionof the Peremptory at the Katana fleet skirmish. But thatrepayment will occur in the context of our overall strategy.Not as an act of private vengeance." His glowing red eyesnarrowed slightly. "Certainly not by any Fleet captain undermy command. I trust I make myself clear."Brandei's cheek twitched. Pellaeon had never thought ofthe man as brilliant, but he was smart enough to recognize athreat when he heard one. "Very clear, Admiral.""Good." Thrawn eyed him a moment longer, then nodded."I believe you've been given your launch mark?""Yes, sir. Judicator out."Thrawn looked at Pellaeon. "Continue, Captain," hesaid, and turned away."Yes, sir." Pellaeon looked at his data pad. "Nemesis .. ."He finished the list without further incident. By thetime the last holo image disappeared, the final check-infrom their own task force was complete."The timetable appears to be running smoothly," Thrawnsaid as Pellaeon returned to his command station. "TheStormhawk reports that the guide freighters launched on timewith tow cables functioning properly. And we've justintercepted a general emergency call from the Ando system."The Bellicose and its task force, right on schedule."Any response, sir?" Pellaeon asked."The Rebel base at Ord Pardron acknowledged," Thrawnsaid. "It should be interesting to see how much help theysend."Pellaeon nodded. The Rebels had seen enough of Thrawn'stactics by now to expect Ando to be a feint, and to respondaccordingly. But on the other hand, an attack forceconsisting of an Imperial Star Destroyer and eight Katanafleet Dreadnaughts was hardly something they could afford todismiss out of hand, either.Not that it really mattered. They would send a fewships to Ando to fight the Bellicose, and a few more toFilve to fight the Judicator, and a few more to Crondre tofight the Nemesis, and so on and so on. By the time theDeath's Head hit the base itself, Ord Pardron would be downto a skeleton defense and screaming itself for all thereinforcements the Rebellion could scramble.And that was where those reinforcements would go.Leaving the Empire's true target ripe for the picking.Pellaeon looked out the forward viewport at the star ofthe Ukio system dead ahead, his throat tightening as hecontemplated again the enormous conceit of this whole plan.With planetary shields able to hold off all but the mostmassive turbolaser and proton torpedo bombardment,conventional wisdom held that the only way to subdue amodern world was to put a fast-moving ground force down atthe edges and send them overland to destroy the shieldgenerators. Between the fire laid down by the ground forceand the subsequent orbital assault, the target world wasalways badly damaged by the time it was finally taken. Thealternative, landing hundreds of thousands of troops in amajor ground campaign that could stretch into months oryears, was no better. To capture a planet relativelyundamaged but with shield generators still intact wasconsidered an impossibility.That bit of military wisdom would fall today. Alongwith Ukio itself."Intercepted distress signal from Filve, Admiral," thecomm officer reported. "Ord Pardron again responding.""Good." Thrawn consulted his chrono. "Seven minutes, Ithink, and we'll be able to move." His lips compressed, justnoticeably. "I suppose we'd better confirm that our exaltedJedi Master is ready to do his part."Pellaeon hid a grimace. Joruus C'baoth, insane clone ofthe long-dead Jedi Master Jorus C'baoth, who a month ago hadproclaimed himself the true heir to the Empire. He didn'tlike talking to the man any more than Thrawn did; but hemight as well volunteer. If he didn't, it would simplybecome an order. "I'll go, sir," he said, standing up."Thank you, Captain," Thrawn said. As if Pellaeon wouldhave had a choice.He felt the mental summons the moment he stepped beyondthe Force-protection of the ysalamiri scattered about thebridge on their nutrient frames. Master C'baoth, clearly,was impatient for the operation to begin. Preparing himselfas best he could, fighting against C'baoth's casual mentalpressure to hurry, Pellaeon made his way down to Thrawn'scommand room.The chamber was brightly lit, in marked contrast to thesubdued lighting the Grand Admiral usually preferred."Captain Pellaeon," C'baoth called, beckoning to him fromthe double display ring in the center of the room. "Come in.I've been waiting for you.""The rest of the operation has taken my fullattention," Pellaeon told him stiffly, trying to hide hisdistaste for the man. Knowing full well how futile suchattempts were."Of course," C'baoth smiled, a smile that showed moreeffectively than any words his amusement with Pellaeon'sdiscomfort. "No matter. I take it Grand Admiral Thrawn isfinally ready?""Almost," Pellaeon said. "We want to clear out OrdPardron as much as possible before we move."C'baoth snorted. "You continue to assume the NewRepublic will dance to the Grand Admiral's tune.""They will," Pellaeon said. "The Grand Admiral hasstudied the enemy thoroughly.""He's studied their artwork," C'baoth countered withanother snort. "That will be useful if the time ever comeswhen the New Republic has nothing but artists left to throwagainst us."A signal from the display ring saved Pellaeon from theneed to reply. "We're moving," he told C'baoth, starting amental countdown of the seventy-six seconds it would take toreach the Ukio system from their position and trying not tolet C'baoth's words get under his skin. He didn't understandhimself how Thrawn could so accurately learn the innermostsecrets of a species from its artwork. But he'd seen thatknowledge proved often enough to trust the Grand Admiral'sinstincts on such things. C'baoth hadn't.But then, C'baoth wasn't really interested in an honestdebate on the subject. For the past month, ever sincedeclaring himself to be the true heir to the Emperor,C'baoth had been pressing this quiet war against Thrawn'scredibility, implying that true insight came only throughthe Force. And, therefore, only through him.Pellaeon himself didn't buy that argument. The Emperorhad been deep into this Force thing, too, and he hadn't evenbeen able to predict his own death at Endor. But the ... [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Tematy