Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil
- Автор: Зан Тимоти
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Random House
- ISBN: 9781473596580
- Жанр: Боевая фантастика
Электронная книга - «Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil». Краткое содержание книги:
“I greet you, Senior Captain Thrawn.” The Minnisiat words came over the Vigilant’s speaker, spoken by a familiar voice. “Your timing and positioning were exactly as you promised. I trust our timing was equally so?”
“It was indeed, Senior Security Chief Frangelic,” Thrawn assured him. “We are in the Garwian Unity’s debt.”
“No more than the Ruleri are in yours,” Frangelic said, his voice going grim. “Long have we wondered if there was a power behind General Yiv and his threats against the Unity and the Garwian people. Long have we wondered if there would be more such threats. The Ruleri thank you for answering both questions, and for giving us this chance to settle the balance.”
“As does the Vak Combine,” another voice joined into the conversation, this one in Sy Bisti. Ar’alani didn’t recognize this particular speaker, but the ship identification that had already come up on the Vigilant’s sensor display was again exactly as Thrawn had promised. “We now owe the Chiss Ascendancy a second debt.”
“The Combine has already repaid both,” Thrawn assured him. “As has the Unity. The Ascendancy thanks you for your assistance.”
“The Unity’s assistance is hardly at an end,” Frangelic said. “Not when there are still others who need to feel our vengeance.”
“The Combine agrees,” the Vak commander said.
“Vengeance is yours for the taking,” Thrawn said. “If you wish to coordinate with our forces, you may do so through Admiral Ar’alani. If not, I request only that you avoid damaging our warships.”
“Admiral—behind you!” Apros cut in.
Ar’alani’s eyes shifted to the rear display. The only ship that should be back there was the FateSpinner, floating along in its low orbit.
Only Jixtus was no longer sitting in defensive posture. The massive warship was on the move, skating along the upper atmosphere as it drove away from the Vigilant along the underside of the battle, apparently intent on getting to the far end of the battleground.
Or of finding an open path among the brawling ships through which it could escape.
“Octrimo: Full-power intercept course,” she snapped, cursing to herself as she looked at the tactical. The sensors showed that the FateSpinner still had some thruster damage from the Stingfly’s breacher attack, but Jixtus had clearly been able to make sufficient repairs to get his warship under way. It was moving along at a good clip, faster than Ar’alani would have expected it capable of.
It was her fault, and it was going to cost her. Distracted by the battle and her own relief at the arrival of the Garwians and Vaks from the asteroid cluster where they’d hidden while they decided whether or not to join the battle, she’d forgotten to keep an eye on the FateSpinner. Now, with the Vigilant starting from essentially a dead stop, there was no way she could build up enough speed to intercept the Grysk warship before it cleared the battle and escaped Sunrise’s gravity well.
She looked at the tactical. If the Vigilant couldn’t stop Jixtus, maybe someone else could. Every ship of Thrawn’s fleet had taken damage, but the Orisson and Springhawk should still have enough firepower to stand a fair chance against the FateSpinner.
But the Orisson was already deeply embroiled in a skirmish with one of the remaining BattleChiefs, and even if Roscu broke free right now she was at the same speed disadvantage as the Vigilant. The Springhawk had just helped finish off one of the other BattleChiefs and was therefore theoretically free for a new mission, but its thrusters had taken a lot of damage and it wasn’t really in position for an intercept.
But Ar’alani had to try. “Springhawk, the FateSpinner’s on the move,” she called. “Can you get to it?”
“I’ll try, Vigilant,” Samakro said. “Coming around now. Azmordi?”
“I don’t think so, Mid Captain,” Azmordi’s voice came faintly from the Vigilant’s speakers. “Thrusters are down to fifteen percent. Unless Jixtus makes a mistake, I don’t think we can reach him before he’s clear.”
“That’s all right, Springhawk,” Apros’s voice cut in. “I’ve got it.”
Ar’alani frowned. With her contingency plans focused on the FateSpinner and the heavier battle-line Chiss warships, she’d almost forgotten Apros and his gunboat.
But there he was, blazing at full power at an angle across the battleground, oblivious to the flashing lasers and driving missiles all around him, heading with his gravity-well generator to intercept Jixtus and block his escape.
Or rather, to block it until he reached combat range and died in a flurry of Grysk laserfire.
Thrawn had clearly run the same thought process. “Apros, break off,” he ordered. “You’re too vulnerable. We’ll find another way to stop him.”
“With respect, Senior Captain, I don’t think so,” Apros said. “I’ve got the same tactical data you do, and you can’t reach him in time. But I can hold him long enough for the Vigilant or Springhawk to get there.”
“You can’t go in alone,” Ar’alani insisted.
“He’s not alone,” Ziinda put in. “Apros, shift to the vector I just sent you.”
Ar’alani looked at the tactical, focusing on the Grayshrike’s current combat condition. It wasn’t any better than the Springhawk’s. “Grayshrike, you’ve got nothing left but lasers,” she reminded Ziinda. “You’re not in any shape to take on the FateSpinner.”
“I’m not going to take it on,” Ziinda said. “Apros and I are going to run in parallel, with the Grayshrike staying between him and the FateSpinner. It’ll take Jixtus a lot of time and a lot of firepower to turn us into scrap, and as long as there’s enough of the Grayshrike left to shield the gunboat we’ll still have him pinned. Apros?”
“I agree, Senior Captain,” Apros said, his voice tight but firm. “Let’s do it. And whatever happens, it’s been an honor to serve with you.”
“And I with you, Mid Captain,” Ziinda said. “Move in close to my starboard, and let’s show Jixtus what it means to take on the Chiss Ascendancy.”
The FateSpinner was on the move, slipping away right out from under the noses of the Chiss who were supposed to be watching him. The big Shatter-class WarMaster was skittering across Sunrise’s upper atmosphere, searching for a gap in the battleground where it could safely drive up out of the gravity well and make its escape.
Against all odds, Jixtus had pulled victory from defeat.
Qilori looked at the tactical, his winglets waving slowly. Though if this was a victory, it was a vanishingly small one.
Jixtus had brought fifteen massive warships to Sunrise. Of that number eight had already been destroyed or disabled, including all three of his StoneCrushers. The six remaining BattleChiefs were still fighting, but he doubted they would survive much longer. And while they were tearing viciously into the Chiss forces swarming around them, it was abundantly clear who was going to win the day.
And the victor hadn’t been Jixtus.
Or had it?
Because there were certain advantages to being the only survivor of a battle like this. If Jixtus escaped while the other Grysk forces died, it would be he and he alone who would tell the story of what happened today. His fifteen ships had gone up against nineteen Chiss warships plus twenty-one Paccosh, Garwians, and Vaks; but who knew if that was what the Grysk leadership would hear? Perhaps it would hear that fifteen Grysks had fought to the death against a hundred Chiss, or two hundred, or three.