She was cut short by the shipwide comm. "Incoming, brace brace brace."

Niathal bent her knees and grabbed a rail to buffer the shock. The whole CIC fell quiet apart from the faint hum of electronics, but there was no shiver from a missile or cannon round hitting the shield, so they breathed again. Destroyers like Ocean were well armored and shielded. But n.o.body was taking anything for granted with an enemy that had produced the galaxy's most powerful warships and weapons before the Yuuzhan Vong "War.

In the CIC, there were no external viewscreens. The only images of the battle that weren't translated into sterile graphs, numbers, and moving points of light came from ex-ternal holocams on every ship or from c.o.c.kpit cams. Niathal didn't want to avoid the reality; she felt she was breaking faith with her crews if she couldn't look at those b.a.l.l.s of flame and twisted sections of hull plating spinning off red-hot into s.p.a.ce. But to keep fighting these days, she had to find some distance.

The small suffering dragged her away from the bigger picture. Then movement on a screen caught her eye and she couldn't avoid it: a forward view from a c.o.c.kpit as a fighter crashed into the Fondorian ship it had already ripped into with cannon fire, a sudden zoom-ing image of a Fondorian crest that was leaking flame.

I wasn't like this when the war started.

"Just as well the Imperials signed up, "Makin said quietly, as they watched the Anakin Solo's inexorable progress into the inner cordon.

"We'd have been sliced and diced by now without them."

"Good old Gil, "Niathal said, still shaken. "But after this, who'll be left for Jacen to sign up to make up the numbers?"

ANAKIN SOLO, FONDOR INNER CORDON.

The Anakin Solo was in a hurry, and plowed between two orbitals on a direct course for Oridin.

A wave of fighters broke from an attack on the cruiser Armistice-pounding away with turbolasers at a yard that was venting gases into the atmosphere-and headed for the destroyer. b.a.l.l.s of white flame flared and died in the viewscreen, gone in an instant, and Caedus couldn't tell-with his eyes, at least-if they were fighters exploding or strikes on vessels.

He didn't need the tracking screen to feel the ships. He was fully battle-aware now, sharing his channeled anger to embolden the commanders in his fleet, and able to shut out anything that was irrelevant to the situation at hand. If Luke tried any more stunts with illusions, he wouldn't get far.

The adrenaline and pure white rage looping back to him from the individual commanders made his throat tighten. It was almost like a back-pressure effect, that the pa.s.sion for the battle that he was channeling into them gained power and momentum, and syphoned back into him as a changed and magnified thing that he felt he had to vent from his chest or scream.

He was out of breath. He hoped n.o.body noticed. It might have looked as if he were panicking.

"Sir..." Nevil seemed to be agitated by the battle link.

He looked as if he was trying to shake it off, like someone fighting to stay awake. If he'd only given in to it, he would have felt much better, like the others Caedus could hear-could feel-totally caught up in combat. "Sir, I'd appreci-ate it if you'd share your plans for breaching Fondor's shield, because with the power we've got available, we're going to be hammering away for hours to weaken it. Can I suggest we divert Dewback to help us out?"

"It won't be necessary, "Caedus said. He had to get this energy out of him. It was a weight crushing his chest. "Al-ternative power source, you might say. I'm going to get them to drop the shield. Stand by concussion missiles."

"I see." Nevil's tone said that he wanted to take this on faith, but he was struggling. "Is this like..."

"Captain, I know you're troubled by what you saw happen with Tebut, and... I regret my behavior, but I'm learn-ing to use combat powers way beyond those of the Jedi, and I wasn't fully in control of them then. I am now. Keep monitoring the shield, and as soon as you see it drop, set ten concussion missiles to airburst over Oridin and two over the shield generator plant." Caedus made an effort to sound detached and normal. It was hard to keep his voice steady. "Don't fear me."

"Very well, sir."

Nevil said it in as matter-of-fact a tone as if his commander had asked for a cup of caf at an inconvenient moment. Caedus sat down in one of the command seats and watched the disk of Fondor gradually filling the viewscreen until it had no sharply contrasted frame of black s.p.a.ce left.

His lungs demanded air. The c.u.mulative effect of his commanders'

heart-pounding aggression needed out now. He could no longer pick out the individual crew and their stations around him in the Anakin Solo, just a complex ta-pestry of emotions, and that was the state of near blindness that he needed to push his way into the minds of strangers many kilometers away on the planet beneath.

The dam burst in him, but it found a river channel. Caedus saw what the Fondorians operating the shield fa-cility might see; he had no idea what the actual location looked like, but he didn't need to waste his strength pro-jecting his consciousness to actually observe. Any imagined scene would do to focus him as the torrent of anger and raw nerves of a hundred or more commanders poured back through him. He pictured the shield generator plant, the control room, imagining it much as any other power plant in the industrialized galaxy: a wall covered in readouts and status lights, and rows of consoles around him where other workers kept an eye on the integrity of the shield and en-sured that a constant power level fed it. There would be a message system, possibly an illuminated board updating staff on the security alert level, too. The exact details didn't matter, he knew, as long as he could imagine enough about what was happening in their minds to be able to latch on to some breeze of a thought in the Force, and slip into their world.

It was like listening for a particular noise or vibration when tuning a speeder drive. He always knew which sounds were normal, and which-however faint, however close to the threshold of his hearing-shouldn't have been there and indicated a problem. Once he heard that sound, it was the only one he could hear, blanking out all others.

Caedus dropped into that white noise of the feelings and thoughts of billions on Fondor, and heard the one repeat-ing note out of kilter with the rest. He focused. In seconds, it filled his head to the exclusion of all else.

He was aware of solid, real beings moving around him on the ship, but he was now more aware of the shield gen-erator facility five kilometers east of Oridin and the minds of the control room team.

There were more of them than usual, he could feel that. There was a sense of having strangers around, as if they'd called in extra staff and were running emergency opera-tions, which fitted a facility that probably ran on standby vvith droids and a caretaker crew most of the time.

The fleet needs to shelter.

Caedus concentrated on projecting an impression that the GA Fleet and its allies had been driven off, and now ships needed to return to base under the protection of the shield. There was urgency in it, because many of the vessels were damaged and needed to land before atmosphere vented or hulls gave way.

Open up. Let us in.

He flooded the operators' minds with an urge to get the ships to safety as soon as possible, all kinds of worries and concerns about family members who might be on board, a burning sense of saving people, of pulling out all the stops...

Now. Drop the shields, we're going to crash, let us through, for pity's sake help us...

"Shields down!" It wasn't Nevil's voice, but that of the weapons officer. Caedus was still drifting in that fog of minds, drowning in their panic and urgency, and not here with the ship that was going to unleash their worst night-mare. "Cone section, fire when ready..."

Caedus tried to snap back at the moment the airburst sent a blinding, searing shock wave across the packed city, but he was a fraction too late, and he caught a moment of pure animal terror that took his breath away. He jerked alert in his seat, wanting to complete a scream that wasn't his. He caught it in time. If he'd screamed-well, the crew thought he was crazy anyway.

On the monitor, he could see a fireball spreading and debris billowing up into the atmosphere on a plume of rolling smoke. Now he needed other GA vessels to turn toward the planet and press home their advantage. He wondered if he could even move. He was drained, and for a moment he couldn't even grip the arms of his seat. "Sir..."

Caedus looked up into Nevil's face, suddenly reminded that the Quarren once had a son, but Caedus had forgotten his name. And I had a daughter. She's lost to me now. It was a sentimental thought totally at odds with being a liv-ing weapon. He suspected it was an echo from being in the minds of people who feared the worst for their own loved ones.

"Sir, Admiral Niathal is on the comm."

"Tell her to wait. We need to hit Fondor hard now, be-fore their fleet closes in on us."

The colors were coming back. The bridge looked familiar again.

Caedus's head was clearing, and he could see the overlay in his mind again, the biggest cities on the planet and the infrastructure that he would need to cripple to bring Fon-dor to its knees. It was like being in a pleasant trance; not fully in the present, but aware, and unwilling to snap out of it because it felt so still and perfect-as if everything in the galaxy suddenly made sense and had an answer. He was vaguely aware that the captain had darted away. He was probably stalling Niathal from another comm position so he could gripe about Caedus unheard. No matter.

He could gripe all he wished.

"Take us in, "Caedus said to the helm officer. "Close as you can."

Chapter 14.

Officer of the deck's log, Galactic Alliance warship Anakin Solo: 1300: At action stations.

1330: At action stations.

1349: Escape pod launched from Bank 9-Alpha. Captain Kral Nevil missing, presumed unauthorized absence.

GALACTIC ALLIANCE WARSHIP OCEAN, OFF FONDOR.

Jacen wouldn't take Niathal's comm, but she wasn't sure she'd believe what he told her anyway. She focused on the information she had, provable stuff flowing back from the battle.

The holochart changed before her eyes. One moment the inner cordon was a tangle of blue and red transponder icons, and the next the red icons were separating out fast and heading for the planet.

She could hear the voice of Captain Tarpilan in her head-set, as if he'd woken up sober and hadn't a clue what he'd been up to last night. He was apologizing for his language in a confused tone. GA ships were still locked in battle, but as Niathal switched from ship to ship, the contrast between the manic mood of a few moments earlier and the normal level of grim tension during combat almost felt like calm had descended.

"Tell me this isn't a feint, "she said. "If they're playing dead, and he's fallen for it, we're borked." She didn't use the word often, but it was a blessed release right then. She got ready to pull her ships out, just in case, trying to check again who was where, who was still in one piece, who needed urgent a.s.sistance, who had no propulsion or had jettisoned escape pods. Jacen had effectively split off from the fleet.

"If Fondor's scamming us, "Makin said quietly, "they're taking the special effects a little too seriously..." He touched Niathal's arm to get her attention. "Look."

Some X-wings had penetrated Fondorian s.p.a.ce far enough to get detailed aerial reconnaissance of the ground. Visuals were confusing.

Some showed steam roaring high into the air from the shattered tunnels that ran under the whole of Fondor's surface. Others were just thick dark smoke spreading, filling the frame like thick, folded fur, and it was hard to work out what was happening until she switched to a thermal image-and that was much clearer.

Oridin-was it really Oridin? - was burning. It was a ball of searing temperatures that cooled towards the edges, with irregular projections as if a firestorm was being fanned farther. That was exactly what she was seeing: the aftermath of a ma.s.sive airburst. Fondor certainly wasn't putting that on for a show. When she looked to the other screens, Jacen's task force was taking advantage of the loss of shielding to pound other Fondorian cities. But Fondor still had a fleet flying, and the battle was intensifying even if the planet was in dire straits.

"Bloodfin, this is Ocean, "she said. There was no re-sponse on the personal encrypted link; she tried the bridge channel. "Gil, are you still there?"

"Clever trick, "Pellaeon said. His tone was wary: he had company this time. "I have Lieutenant Veila here, and she's been explaining some of basics of the Force to me."

"Jacen's destroying Oridin. I'm comming Vadde and of-fering terms."

"Are you asking me for my opinion, or telling me?"

"I'm joint Chief of State, and I don't think my colleague is in a position to negotiate, seeing as he's busy fighting his ship." She could stop this now. She could stop this and end the day with some ships left, and Fondor wouldn't look like the Yuuzhan Vong had just left again. She turned to the flag lieutenant she was usually a.s.signed in Ocean, Vio.

"Flag, get me the Fondorian President."

Surrenders were normally forced from a stronger position than hers.

This time, the GA had lost an arm but the enemy had lost both legs, so she was still ahead. She strode back to the bridge as fast as she could without breaking into a run, scattering crew members. They couldn't have known what was going on; it was hard enough for officers in the CIC to piece together the picture, so anyone tied up in single tasks elsewhere knew next to nothing, other than from disjointed sc.r.a.ps that filtered through at remarkable if careless speed by word of mouth from deck to deck.

Shas Vadde took a little longer to respond than she'd expected. It was the first time it had crossed her mind that she was Jucky to raise him at all, because there was every chance he'd be based in Oridin. But he was alive; the holo-screen image showed him in a harshly lit room that could have been an emergency planning center with people milling around behind him, many in administrators' uniforms.

"Admiral, "he said, "we're on backup generators here, so make the most of this comlink. The power grid's out in six cities in the Oridin region. Oridin itself-well, I'm sure you can see the results of your handiwork."

"We can stop this now." Niathal bristled at the thought of being tarred with Jacen's brush, but it was all rather aca-demic to someone in Vadde's position. "Surrender now, we both recall our fleets, and I personally guarantee you that Fondor will get permanent special economic status, and we'll aid you in disaster recovery as soon as you say the word."

Vadde considered her in silence for what seemed like a long time.

The bridge crew were occupied with the incom-ing data and intelligence coming in direct from the fleet and via the CIC, but a couple of officers paused to watch the impromptu negotiations. Wars turned on small personal events like this.

"What about Solo?" Vadde asked. "Is he going to go along with this?"

"I'm not asking his permission." Forget the united front. "He's too tied up with your fleet at the moment to talk, so I'm acting unilaterally."

It took Vadde another minute to answer, during which he was interrupted by an aide who showed him a datapad. Whatever was contained in it, it wasn't good news.

"We surrender, "Vadde said at last. "Call off your ships. I'll call off mine." He turned and said something to some-one behind him, and looked years older when he turned back to face her again. "Give it a few minutes to reach all ships. Cease-fires can be ragged, as I'm sure you know."

Niathal waited, and as soon as reports started coming in of Fondorian vessels breaking off attacks, she opened the comm to every bridge in the fleet-and that included Jacen's elements around Fondor.

Tough. He wants to play front-line commander, then he doesn't get included in the diplomacy.

"All Galactic Alliance and Imperial Remnant vessels, cease fire immediately, "she said. "Cease fire. Fondor has surrendered."

There was always a time lag while cautious commanders double-checked the signal, and gunners and pilots caught up in the life-or-death adrenal blur of combat were told again to stand down. It was hard to come to an immediate halt. The Imperial ships seemed to be waiting for confirma-tion from their own officers, but Pellaeon's voice came on the link ordering the cease-fire, and their fleet fell silent.

At this distance, without seeing the damage and casualty reports coming back from battered ships, Niathal could pretend that the sector had returned to a peaceful calm, and that everything could go back to normal.

The only ships still moving on the screens were the Anakin Solo and its accompanying frigates. Niathal was anxious for Fondor not to get jumpy. She let Vadde hear the voice traffic. "Anakin Solo, this is Ocean. Respond please."

"What are you doing?" Jacen's voice wasn't his usual controlled facade of irritating reason, as if he were explaining something to the very dim. He sounded as if he'd been woken up from a deep sleep, and was annoyed about it. "You can't stop now."

"I've accepted Fondor's surrender. They've stood down their ships.

Unless you can render aid to the planet right now, Jacen, withdraw, and return to the a.s.sembly area."

"We broke through." He paused. "I broke through." She could hear him snapping orders at someone, and it seemed to be a demand to find out why his ships had obeyed her order to cease fire. So he was on his own now. "I will not accept this. We have to seize our advantage. You're letting them regroup."

"They've surrendered, Jacen, and we've all got pretty much the same rules of engagement across the civilized galaxy - surrender means cease fire."

Niathal wasn't just obeying interplanetary conventions, of course.

The Fondorian fleet hadn't gone home and dis-armed: it was there, nose-to-nose with her ships, and could start the battle again at a moment's notice. Fondor had everything to lose, but the GA had ships at stake, too. They'd already lost half the Fifth Fleet recently, and Fondor was not the only enemy.

"I refuse to stand down, "Jacen said. "I intend to carry on fighting." There was a pause. "Nevil? Where's the captain? Find him. I'll have him..."

Niathal had no other option, but it was one she felt al-most glad to take. There was an inevitable cleanliness about it.

"Colonel Solo, "she said, "if you don't honor the cease-fire, I'm relieving you of duty. An admiral outranks a colonel, remember, and I will order your ship to be disabled."

There was another pause. She'd never expected him to say yes, ma'am, anyway.

"I don't recognize your authority."

"Stand down, Colonel."

"All GA vessels, this is your Chief of State ordering you to fight on. All Imperial vessels-under the terms of our agreement, I insist that you rejoin the battle."

Niathal was being carried along by events, but the next words that left her mouth were going to seal many fates. Could the Imperial ships even hear Jacen? "All GA vessels, Colonel Solo is relieved of duty." Poor Captain Nevil; he was in the worst position of all. He'd have to take over the Anakin. She had a sudden cold splash of realization that she should have had before she got on that comm. If Jacen could breach a planet's shield with his influence, there probably wasn't much that his crew could do to defy him. She was faced with the real possibility of having to shoot down the Anakin Solo.

Down.

There was no up or down in s.p.a.ce, but she still had a feeling of falling.