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:
“Preferably with a couple of Dasklo destroyers nearby that the Clarr can blame it on,” Apros said. “And they won’t jump to confront Roscu until they can see her.”
“So the Orisson overshot and has to come back,” Ziinda agreed. “That gives us a little breathing space. Vimsk, is there anything about any of those asteroids that makes it stand out?”
“Nothing I can pick up at this distance, ma’am,” Vimsk said, her face pressed against her glare-hooded monitor. “But the missile trap at Sunrise didn’t give off anything I could get, either, even when we were right up beside it.”
Apros muttered something under his breath. “Any ships out there that are just hanging around?” he asked. “It’ll probably be something small and unobtrusive.”
“Scanning now, sir.”
“Apros, what are you thinking?” Ziinda asked.
“They’re not going to leave it to automatic sensors and firing systems,” he said. “Not something this important. They’ll have someone nearby to keep an eye on the asteroid and pick the right moment to fire the missile.”
“Good call,” Ziinda said. She really should have thought of that herself. “Vimsk?”
“Still scanning,” Vimsk said. “But if they’re running on standby, I may not be able to pick them up.”
“We need to get closer,” Apros said. “Wikivv, work us up an in-system jump to someplace midway between the two closest asteroids. Hopefully, that’ll put us close enough.”
“Put it somewhat closer to the closest one, though,” Ziinda added. “I’m still leaning toward that one.”
“And after you get that course, start us on one from that point to midway between the second and third,” Apros said. “We may not have time for a second jump before the Orisson walks into the trap, but we have to try—”
“Got it!” Shrent interrupted, a note of triumph in his voice. “Apologies for the interruption, sir, but I’ve got the status reports from Patrol Command. They’ve got a freighter listed as undergoing repairs in that area.”
“They didn’t tow it in?” Ziinda asked.
“The freighter refused,” Shrent said. “Said they could fix it themselves and didn’t want to pay bluedock fees.”
“Sounds like our controller,” Apros said. “Wikivv?”
“Got it,” Wikivv confirmed. “How close do you want us, Senior Captain?”
Ziinda looked at the tactical and the new mark where the freighter’s position had been added. With Wikivv’s skill with in-system jumps, she could put the Grayshrike well within combat range of the freighter. A thorough pelting with plasma spheres before it knew what was happening, and no one aboard would be triggering that missile anytime soon.
But the asteroid would have its own backup sensor and firing mechanisms in place, and the Grayshrike’s tangle with a similar weapon over Sunrise had shown just how tough the things were to knock out. Taking out the freighter would make the Orisson’s destruction less precise, but no less inevitable.
No, Roscu’s only chance was for the Grayshrike to get close enough to intercept her and wave her off before she got within firing distance of the missile.
“Put us here,” she told Wikivv, marking a spot on her questis and sending it across the bridge to the helm station. “That should keep us out of easy shot of the missile but close enough to everything to warn off the Orisson when it arrives.”
“Understood, ma’am,” Wikivv said. “A few more seconds.”
Ziinda looked at the weapons status boards, confirming everything showed green. “Ghaloksu, are your crews ready?”
“They are, Senior Captain,” the weapons officer confirmed.
“In-system jump ready, ma’am,” Wikivv announced.
“Acknowledged,” Ziinda said, bracing herself. This was it. “In-system jump: Three, two, one.”
The view outside flickered, and suddenly the ship traffic was gone. In the near distance, off the Grayshrike’s portside bow, was the asteroid Wikivv had brought them to. “Yaw rotation seventy degrees portside, four degrees zenith,” Ziinda ordered, searching the starscape for the freighter. There it was, forty degrees further off to portside and about three times the distance currently between the Grayshrike and the asteroid. “Apros, pull up the record of our battle with these things at Sunrise. Roscu will probably need some convincing. Shrent, stand ready to signal the Orisson the instant it—”
And then, flicking in from the outer system, the Orisson was there.
Face to face with the asteroid. Two kilometers away.
In perfect position to be destroyed.
Family fleet officers, Roscu had long since recognized, weren’t nearly as adept at tight warship maneuvers as their counterparts in the Expansionary Defense Fleet. Some of that was lack of regular practice, but most of it was simply the fact that such maneuvers normally weren’t needed. Most defensive combat took place inside a planet’s gravity well or close to the edge of it, where an attacker’s maneuverability was restricted, so in-system jumps weren’t emphasized in training.
Fortunately, like Roscu herself, the Orisson’s pilot had come out of the Ascendancy military, and the Defense Force emphasized such training almost as much as the Expansionary Defense Fleet. His first in-system jump was long and wide, exactly as Roscu had instructed, and his second was equally on the mark.
In fact, it was just a little too perfect. The Orisson came out of hyperspace barely two kilometers from the asteroid. A little closer, and they would have crashed right into the thing.
But they hadn’t hit it, and they had it pinned with no place to go, and the Mitth family was now cooked. She’d give whoever was inside a chance to surrender first, and if they refused she was in perfect position to crack open the hull, haul everyone and everything out, and expose the scheme to the entire Ascendancy.
And if she found enough dirt inside, the fallout might be enough to break Patriarch Thurfian’s prestige. Maybe not drop the Mitth from the Ruling Families, but at least damage them enough to alter the flowing web of relationships that existed in the Syndicure. And any such disruption could only work to the Clarr family’s advantage.
“Combat range: two ships,” the sensor officer warned. “One active warship; one dormant freighter.”
Roscu looked at the tactical. So one of the Dasklo destroyers had followed them?
Her lip twisted as the ship’s ID came up. No, not one of the destroyers. Just the Grayshrike and that insufferably annoying Senior Captain Ziinda.
“Captain, the Grayshrike is hailing us,” the comm officer added.
“Ignore them,” Roscu said. “Set me up a tight-beam signal to the spy platform.”
“Captain, the asteroid is rotating,” Raamas said, peering over the sensor officer’s shoulder.
Roscu eyed the sensor display. It was rotating, all right. Not very fast, but it was definitely on the move.
Turning its main sensors toward the Orisson to see who exactly they were dealing with? Or was it perhaps turning their own tight-beam transmitter around so their upcoming conversation would have more privacy? Either was fine with her. “Comm?”
“Tight-beam is ready, Captain.”
Roscu nodded and keyed her chair’s mike. Jixtus hadn’t been completely certain that Thrawn was personally involved in this project. But knowing the man as she did, she personally had no doubts.