The command center of the collection ship looked like a cathedral for some ancient religion. Vidian’s comm station, in the middle of the room, resembled an altar. Idle comparisons, both. But the reality was not lost on Vidian. From here, he would sacrifice the moon to his Emperor, winning his favor for another year. And the ashes of the world would smother his rival once and for all.
Intentionally or not, the collection ship’s designers had built a supernatural feel into Forager’s bridge. Situated frontward on the foremost sphere on the ship’s linked series of pods, the huge round room looked ahead through tall windows that rose and curved to a ceiling twenty meters above. More consoles like Vidian’s circled him like miniature megaliths in a place for idol-worshipper rites. A catwalk two stories up ran around the front arc of the room, providing additional workstations between the windows for Vidian’s droids and cybernetically enhanced assistants. He could see the metallic figures moving back and forth on the decking, digital priests backlit by the shining moon.
“Spokes deployed, my lord,” one of them said. “We are ready for the collection process to begin.”
Vidian nodded. It was up to Sloane and her people now. Switching his visual feed from cam to remote cam, he looked approvingly on the Cynda work sites. Sloane had done a remarkable job, throwing Ultimatum’s thousands of staffers at a project that, days before, had been a fantasy on a holodisk from a deranged assassin. Now they were thirty minutes away from doing something that still existed only at the outer edges of Imperial capability: the destruction of a moon, and perhaps the world below.
It had been critical to get Sloane’s cooperation early on. Any extra time, any deliberation would have brought the Emperor’s corps of engineers into the picture, and they would have questioned the yield from the test blast. Vidian could use Tharsa’s name to falsify a report and defraud an ambitious captain, but more would be difficult. And this couldn’t wait. As Vidian cycled his messages before his eyes, he saw not just more from the nuisance Danthe, but several from the Emperor’s inner circle. All were almost comically urgent, suggesting that if Vidian didn’t deliver thorilide in record amounts instantly, the entire Imperial fleet would have to be mothballed. The baron had really gone to work on the Emperor’s people.
Well, he would finish it soon enough. He would deliver thorilide beyond anyone’s fantasies—and then stick the grinning Danthe with a ticking bomb.
One of Vidian’s cybernetic aides stepped forward. “Something’s coming in, master, on the Mining Guild channel.”
“Eh?” Vidian whispered commands until the sound reached him.
“—don’t know what’s going on. Feeling so … weird. These blasted Baby canisters—some of them started leaking these, I don’t know, these fumes …”
“What’s this nonsense?” Vidian said aloud.
“—don’t know how it happened. Faulty loading, faulty material, faulty something—just like everything in this wretched job. I’ve hated it all, y’know.” The voice went from woozy to bitter. “And I’ve hated all of you.”
“It’s one coming from one of the freighters,” Vidian’s aide volunteered. “The coolant lining the baradium-357 canisters has been known to cause psychotic episodes if it gets—”
“Yeah, you know me,” the broadcaster interrupted, sounding angrier by the word. “You know my voice. I put up with all of you, for Okadiah’s sake. In the mines, on the hoverbus, in the bar. Lot of bums, all of you. Think you’re such tough guys. You make me sick!”
Vidian seethed as he recognized the voice. The gunslinger! “Zero in on that transmission,” he ordered. “Find him!”
The speaker was raging now. “Filthy, stinking miners! I can see your ID transponders—I know who you are. Think you’re hot stuff, hauling bombs. Let’s see how hot I can make it!”
Vidian toggled his comlink mode. “Now hear this! This is Count Vidian. Disregard these transmissions and finish your deliveries! You’ve just heard the ravings of a crazy man, a provocateur—”
The pilot boomed in response. “I’m crazy? I’m crazy? Fine! I don’t care about your stinking starfighters, Empire-man. I’m telling everyone—if you see me coming, run, because I’m going to blow every ship I see out of the sky! Starting with the miners!”
A horrific squawk erupted from Expedient’s comm system: Imperial jamming on the guild channel. Hera looked at Kanan, stupefied. “I thought you were going to warn them about the moon!”
“They wouldn’t have believed it. I barely believe it. Right now, they’re only afraid of the TIE fighters. But they’re about to become more afraid of me!” Kanan flashed her a wild look. “I need you to fly like a Wookiee whose hair is on fire—and who thinks everybody lit the match. Can you do that?”
She seemed to get the idea, if reluctantly. “Got it.”
He pointed at the TIE fighter beginning its intersecting run across their convoy corridor. “Dive when I signal.”
The Imperial starfighter whisked into their field of view, its wings resolving into a fat hexagonal target. Kanan used it as exactly that, pulling the trigger on his gunnery controls. “Hera, now!”
Orange fire ripped from the weapons turret positioned over and behind their heads, tearing dead-center into the wing of the TIE fighter passing before them. Hera slammed the control yoke forward and hit the throttle, causing Expedient to dive. The TIE exploded into a blaze of bright flame above—but now Cynda was all they could see, its icy surface filling the viewport.
Zaluna lost her hold on the side of Kanan’s seat and fell forward, mashing Skelly against the forward control panel. He called out in pain.
“Hang on!” Hera brought Expedient into a roll, bringing one of the two Imperial fighters that had been flanking them into Kanan’s sights. He fired again. Hera didn’t wait to see the result, moving once more to bring the ship lower. Cynda’s gravity began to take hold.
Zaluna tried to help Skelly up. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m not used to this!”
“Who is?” Weakly trying to fend off her attempts to stand him up, he appealed to the air. “Please, just let me go sit down …”
“We need you here,” Kanan said, struggling to find their other flanker on his scope. The TIE was shooting at them: He could see the flash of energized particles to his right. “Where is this guy?”
“Right here,” Hera said, slamming on the braking jets. The glowing ionic thrusters of the third TIE appeared in the space before them. Kanan swung his targeting mechanism and hit the trigger. Hera pumped her fist as the starfighter blew itself apart.
Kanan glanced at Skelly, looking rocky as Zaluna held him up. Skelly outweighed the woman, but she was doing her best to keep him in place. Kanan implored him. “Come on, Skelly. We’re there. Focus!”
Skelly squinted at the surface as Hera descended. There was a tower on the far horizon, nothing more than a needle on an ocean of white. A cluster of ships could be seen heading for the area. “That way!”
The alert clarion sounded on the bridge of Ultimatum. “Scramble wings fourteen, fifteen, seventeen,” Sloane said. “Pursue freighter, hereafter tagged Renegade One. Take them down!”
The captain stood by the holographic tracking display and watched the action with bewilderment. She’d ordered the Star Destroyer to remain on its station, overseeing the convoy route and protecting Forager—but what was going on over the surface of Cynda defied belief. And it had all started with that bizarre message from Kanan.
“Renegade One is pursuing the other baradium haulers,” said a fresh-faced ensign. Young Cauley had been trying his best to track the zigzagging renegade—but nothing it did made any sense.
“They’re trying to destroy the freighters?”
“No, Captain. Just the TIE fighters accompanying them. The freighters should be easier targets, but it’s just, well—” The headset-wearing ensign gawked at his monitor. Sloane stepped behind him to watch the chase. The runaway was peeling away the escorts of the fully laden cargo ships—and then seemingly shooting to miss, aiming just in front of the vessels.
“Harassing fire,” she said. Kanan—pilot, insurrectionist, would-be Imperial agent? Whatever he was, he was definitely aboard that ship and trying to prevent the others from landing their cargo. His threatening message had set the stage for chaos. “Method to the madness. He’s scaring them away.”
“And doing a good job of it,” Ensign Cauley said. He pointed to the screen. “He gets anywhere near a freighter and they try to peel off.”
Sloane looked back at the holographic tracking display. One by one, baradium freighters were switching off their ID transponders, fearful of having Kanan come after them. It was only adding to the confusion. Has everybody on Gorse tangled with this character?
Cauley tapped his earpiece. “I’ve got a TIE pilot chasing after the hauler he’s escorting now. It’s fleeing, afraid of being targeted by Renegade One. Our pilot’s asking if he can shoot his hauler down.”
“What? No!” Sloane froze. She’d told Vidian she’d allow nothing to interfere with the explosives delivery, and they’d sent more than his project needed. But how much more? “Tell our pilot to stick with the ship he’s convoying as best he can until our reinforcements arrive. Tell him if he can run interference—”
“Never mind,” Cauley said, removing his headset. “Renegade One just shot our pilot down.”
Sloane clenched her fists. “Pull all escort wings in that area off their duty. Send them all against Kanan!”
“Against who, Captain?”
“Renegade One!” Quaking in anger, she pointed outside. “The guy shooting at everyone!”