"Agreed, "said Niathal. "Remember that there's a surrender deadline in place."

"I agree, "said Pellaeon.

Caedus felt he needed to keep a closer eye on the two of them, but that was what prospective apprentices were for. He had a battle to win.

"Would you object to Lieutenant Veila remaining in the Bloodfin as my liaison for the dura-tion of the engagement, Admiral Pellaeon? Of course, you're welcome to send a liaison to the Anakin Solo, as well."

Pellaeon's mistrust was clear to Force senses, but he smiled convincingly enough for the mundanes.

"You could use a comlink, "he said, "but she's much more charming."

No, you don't think that at all, do you, Pellaeon?

Caedus quite enjoyed the intellectual challenge of these confrontations, polite and ba.n.a.l to the casual listener, but composed of layer upon layer of double meaning and dou-ble intent. He felt Tahiri bristle a little. That was good. She worked better when she was annoyed.

She escorted him down to the hangar, leaving him with a Force impression of a mask held firmly in place.

"How do I liaise?" she asked pointedly, lips barely mov-ing.

"Observe."

"And what added value can I bring that a remote holo-cam can't?"

"If Pellaeon interferes with my plan in any way, then you stop him." Caedus's whisper was just a breath. "The Moffs are far more willing, but he whips them back into line. Do you understand what I'm asking you to do?"

Tahiri still wore that deceptive I'm-earnest-and-really-quite-dim expression, but the glittering black shards of her calculating mind were right there in the Force. She was a testament to the transformational power of incentive. "I think so."

"Some deaths... some sacrifices are necessary, however callous they may appear." Caedus just made sure she'd got the full meaning without his having to spell it out. "But only if they prove necessary, remember."

"I understand. It's ugly, but... I understand."

Last piece of bait, place it carefully... "In the end, we're fighting for a galaxy where the Anakins of this world don't have to give their lives. That's why we have to think the unthinkable."

Tahiri's edge wavered, but she recovered almost as soon as Caedus felt it. "I think living in the past is a dangerous habit, actually. I'm doing this because I think an orderly galaxy is our best defense against falling to an enemy like the Vong again."

Caedus left her standing in the pa.s.sageway, hands clasped behind her back, next to the badge of the bloodfin devouring those who forgot how dangerous an animal it was. He mulled over her parting shot all the way back to the Anakin Solo, and realized that she was warning him that she knew how he was manipulating her fixation with his brother. So did she really believe in Sith government being the best defense against traumatic war in the future, or was she even more ambitious than he had ever realized? It didn't matter. She had that Sith sharpness now, and it was an instrument he was destined to use.

Two of the bridge chronos-one set to local time, one to Galactic Standard Time-crept forward to 2359 GST. One comm channel on each flagship's bridge was kept open for Fondor's President, but the deadline came and went, and all Caedus could hear was faint static. Ocean, Bloodfin, and the Anakin Solo were linked on audio, still waiting. Nevil walked slowly around the bridge, glancing over shoulders at tracking screens and sensor displays.

"Well, I wasn't expecting a response, "Niathal said, al-most as if she was talking to herself. "All ships... we are now at battle stations.

I expect this will now be known as the Second Battle of Fondor. I shall be operating from this command information center until further orders."

Caedus was occasionally aware of the most subliminal of sensations deep inside his skull that hinted at intense ac-tivity in hypers.p.a.ce.

Over the last day or so, it had been intermittent. He interpreted it as a fleet moving from place to place, dropping out of hypers.p.a.ce to pause briefly before jumping again to avoid detection. The Fondorian fleet was taking a walk around the block, he thought, occasionally pausing to take a look to see who was still loitering in the neighborhood, and if they had their back turned.

The Anakin Solo moved on Fondor.

On either flank, vessels from both GA fleets moved into formation, and one battle group with its X-wing squadrons streaking ahead of it broke out of the larger formation to slip past the ring of orbitals.

Caedus felt around him for the Jedi, not picking up what he expected. He knew they were here, because Luke was; but he couldn't sense how many, or where they might be. He a.s.sumed the worst-maybe as many as a hundred, maybe the majority in StealthXs.

But Jedi or not, numbers and big ships still counted against them.

These days, no naval architect made con-struction mistakes like the kind that would let a single fighter take out a war machine the size of a planet. Luke Skywalker's days of dumb luck were long over. Caedus cast his worries about the Jedi aside, and visualized his ships and their commanders like a grid, a mesh, a network, like the mines he should have had in place now.

These were competent commanders with well-trained crews, and they only needed a little nudge to embolden them into even more decisive action. He found he didn't need to control them; all he needed was to be hyperaware of where they were at any point in time, their state of mind, and if they needed a push to overcome hesitation caused by having a slower, limited, sensor-dominated perception of the changing situation in theater.

Ocean was where he expected her to be, to port and a lit-tle astern of him. I can keep an eye on you however busy I am, Admiral. He could see the sensor screens ahead of him and around the bridge, but it was the mental image he was building that was more vivid, and in moments it was al-most an overlay on his physical field of vision that he found hard to distinguish from what he could actually see.

Nevil turned to him. "Long-range, sir, Fondor's ground defenses are scrambling."

Sensors picked up a hailstorm of fighters scattering out into the planet's...o...b..t, and Caedus concentrated his touch on the minds of the commanders about to encircle the planet. The first wave of X-wings streaked between the orbitals, targeting the defensive cannon emplacements on the yards as they pa.s.sed. The wave of frigates and destroyers split horizontally to send one group under the orbit of the yards in a loop toward Fondor's southern pole, and the other mirroring it to the north pole. With the X-wings keeping the yards' defenses busy, the warships regrouped inside the orbital ring. Fondorian fighters swung around to engage them like a flock of garbs turning as one bird.

"Steady, "said Caedus. "Push through. Push through."

Damage reports were now trickling in, most of them minor ones from overloaded shields, and they were di-verted to the automated system to collate and estimate the impact on the fleet's effectiveness at any given point. But Caedus didn't need detail. He felt X-wings wink out of existence, each one a pang in him, and he felt the ships in the right place, the right moment...

Fondor's planetary defenses hadn't opened up yet, although the ships were in range. The yards weren't there to defend the planet; their armament was for their own protection. There was an odd, aching lull in the battle going on in Caedus's mental chart, and for a full minute he cast around waiting for StealthXs to fountain out of nowhere and harry his vessels inside the orbital ring. He'd feel them. Whatever tricks the Jedi had, however undetectable their fighters, he would feel their racing pulses and adrenaline as they began their attack. Luke might be able to hide, but not all of them.

The flotillas were through, scanning the surface of Fon-dor for cannon and turbolaser aimed at them, waiting for enemy targeting to try to get a lock on them and blip their sensors. There should have been the start of a bombard-ment by now.

Nothing.

Niathal cut into the bridge comlink. "Stand..."

Caedus felt something then, all right. He knew what it was a moment after it pressed like a weight behind his eyes. It was the sudden surge of drives, tension peaking, thou-sands upon thousands of beings exploding into action.

It was the Fondorian fleet.

In the slow-motion way of thoughts in battle, he had time somehow to wonder why sensors weren't showing him ships popping out of hypers.p.a.ce and targeting weapons all around him.

Then he saw why, with his own eyes, on the monitors.

The orbital yards had come alive in an instant, Destroy-ers lifting clear of docks, smaller vessels forming up around them. Caedus felt the precision of the maneuver without even needing to see the rapidly changing transponder icons on the holochart; half of the ships focused on the GA elements now stuck between Fondor and the ring, and the other half turned their attention to the rest of the task force beyond.

The Fondorian fleet-or a very large part of it-boiled out of the yards like kag bugs pouring from a broken drain.

The sensor scans went wild.

Why didn't I feel them before, at such close quarters?

Jedi. That's where they were, putting all their effort into blocking his senses, no doubt persuading themselves that they were defending the civilian workforce or the orbitals. That fitted. Not rebel enough to come right out and fight side by side with Fondor but pious enough to aid their...

"Incoming! Brace brace brace..."

Nevil's voice was unnaturally calm, as it always was. But despite shields, the turbolaser volleys that struck the Anakin Solo were enough to shake the bridge and fill the view-screen with brilliant, blinding, white-gold light.

Caedus took it in his stride. This was meant to be, to put him in the right frame of mind to win. The bridge around him distorted a little and the colors seemed to leach out, but he recognized his anger and grabbed the reins to make it serve him. Unlike the bloodfin's unlucky rider, he wouldn't fall and be devoured by it.

He reached out to his commanders and imbued them all with a little more aggression, a little less willingness to play by the rules of engagement.

Nevil, looking at Caedus's face, seemed frozen to the spot. Ah, my eyes have changed. They'd have to get used to that. The vague sensation of ships streaking in hypers.p.a.ce had gone now.

"Captain, "Caedus said, "at least we know where they are. And why I didn't sense that they were waiting for us."

SECOND BATTLE OF FONDOR: COMBAT INFORMATION CENTER (CIC), GALACTIC.

ALLIANCE WARSHIP OCEAN.

Niathal stood with both hands braced on the holochart table in the CIC, dismayed. The removal of Jacen Solo would have to wait.

Fondor was putting up a credible fight and it was turning into a long slog, longer than she'd expected. The mine network would have made life so much simpler. But she'd taken her decision, and now she had to deal with it. Admiral Makin, stranded here with her because the battle was too fierce for him to transfer back to Sarpentia, drummed his fingers on the edge of the table as he moved around it, examining it from every angle.

And I said we'd offer them terms after we softened them up a bit....

"Admiral Niathal." Jacen's voice had an edge to it. "I in-tend to break this stalemate before we lose too many ships."

"I suggest we disengage and regroup."

"We will not run."

"I said regroup."

"And then what? What kind of a.s.sault will get us any farther than we are now?"

The comm went silent. They watched the Anakin Solo's blue icon moving steadily through the three-dimensional plot, making for Fondor.

Flagships did not rush into the thick of the battle and fight like frigates, but maybe Solo hadn't got to that page in the manual yet.

"He's not a team player, is he?" Admiral Makin said quietly.

"Colonel Solo." Niathal rarely knew which way Jacen would jump in a fight, and he was getting more unpre-dictable every time. "Colonel, can you hear me?"

There was the faint chatter of static. "Yes, Admiral."

"Please confirm your position and intentions..."

"I'm advancing."

"Yes, I can see that. Why?"

"To bring this to a quicker conclusion."

Niathal looked at Makin. The veteran Mon Cal com-mander made a gesture that indicated he wasn't convinced of the firmness of Jacen's grasp on the situation.

"Colonel, I really think you should fall back and concen-trate on managing the battle, "said Niathal.

The Anakin Solo didn't deviate or decelerate. "I can do that from here. Just keep the Fondorians as busy as you can. I'm going to target Oridin City."

"The ground batteries, you mean. Can you identify targets a little more precisely, please?"

"I mean Oridin City. As in capital, commercial capital, strategic target capital."

"Wait one." Niathal switched the comm through to Bloodftn, cutting Jacen out of the circuit. "Gil, can you fol-low this?"

"Yes. He'll have to get the planetary shield down first, and we've got our hands full with the Fondorian fleet, so he's on his own."

"If he didn't have a ship's company of decent beings with him, I'd be rooting for the Fondorians to do us a favor, "she said. "He treats that ship like it's his Stealth. This fighter ace mentality infuriates me."

"You can't stop him, and we have our hands full."

"I've just seen your sitrep."

"Yes, Cha. Two destroyers and eight cruisers-even we notice those losses."

GA blue icons were cl.u.s.tered within the inner cordon, as they'd rapidly taken to calling the s.p.a.ce between Fondor and its...o...b..tals. The other side, the outer cordon, showed amber and blue icons-GA and Imperials-scattered more loosely in cl.u.s.ters, Star Destroyers attempting to target each other while frigates and the rest of the battle group around each of them tried to shield them. Another blue icon-a frigate-vanished from the plot and appeared on the tote board as lost. Sometimes, that happened simply when they lost power to certain systems. Niathal hoped for the latter.

Makin's frustration was getting to her. Unable to fight in his own ship, he was trying to be useful. He put on a head-set and listened to another comm channel, eyes closed.

"Cha, "he said, "I know you're busy, but have you actually listened to this? The Fourth Fleet elements inside the cordon?"

There were too many ships for her to even begin to monitor voice traffic from individual captains. "No, should I?"

"Yes. It's... odd."

Makin didn't usually talk like that. He was precise and specific.

Niathal almost dismissed it, but relented and lis-tened in on the same comm channels.

The mood and tone in the command center of a warship, even in a tight spot, was a lot quieter and more focused than holodramas depicted.

Under fire, it was intense, and voices did get raised, but what she heard was not typical of her navy.

One captain was urging cannon teams to blow the Fondorians apart in extremely graphic and profane terms. She winced. "Who's that?"

"Tarpilan."

"Is he drunk?" Jun Tarpilan? Never. She didn't even realize he knew words like that. He was old school, very formal. "That can't be him."

"Work through them all. They're all doing it. It's like they've all gone collectively mad-well, more like they've all had a few ales too many and they want to take on the galaxy. And I don't mean incompetent, either."

Niathal was starting to worry. The more she listened, the worse it got. Commanders she'd known for years-human, Mon Cal, Sull.u.s.tan, all species-seemed to have taken on more reckless and aggressive personas. It was no time to dissect this with Makin, but she thought of the things Luke Skywalker had told her about Jacen dabbling in the darker side of the Force. Jedi could carry off some extraordinary sensory manipulation; she would have bet her pension that Jacen could, too.

"I'd use the phrase fighting mad, "she said.