The Lost Ones

7

Later that night, the bulk space cruiser Adamant lurched into the Coruscant system, heavily guarded by New Republic warships. The number of assault fighters bristling with turbolaser cannons that clustered around the supply cruiser hinted at the military importance of the cargo it carried.

Standing ready on the cruiser’s command bridge, Admiral Ackbar remained tense despite the additional precautions that had been taken. The Adamant approached a docking zone near the Coruscant space stations, precisely according to schedule. The assault fighters powered down their weapons and split off as each squadron signaled farewell to the admiral, commander of the New Republic Fleet.

“Thanks for the escort,” Ackbar said into the comm unit. “Coruscant security will take over from here.” He switched off and paced the bridge. It had been a long haul, but the New Republic badly needed the modern hyperdrive cores and turbolaser battery emplacements his ship carried in its armored holds. The Adamant would deliver the components to the Kuat Drive Yards, where they would be installed in a new fleet of battleships. Ackbar had been charged with making a formal inspection tour—and he always relished the chance to be aboard a fine military ship.

Though the main threat from the evil Empire had ended, trouble still flared up in the non-allied systems. The fragile government, led by Chief of State Leia Organa Solo, had to be ready at all times with a force strong enough to ward off attacks from known or unknown enemies.

“Coruscant Central acknowledges our arrival,” said the helmsman.

Admiral Ackbar nodded. “It’ll be good to take some rest and recreation downside,” he said, turning to the helmsman and staring with his round, fishy eyes. “Ever been to Coruscant for a furlough before, Lieutenant?”

The young man nodded. “Yes, sir. Several times. I know where there’s this little rooftop cantina, a rotating restaurant that lets you look out across the whole city. They’ve got a keyboard player with ten tentacles. Boy, you should hear the music she makes!”

Admiral Ackbar chuckled just as the tactical officer turned from her station, her normally pale skin flushed as she shouted an alarm. “Admiral! An unidentified fleet just appeared off our starboard bow. Range is less than fifty kilometers and closing fast. They appear to be in an attack formation.”

Ackbar whirled to look out the front viewports. “Attack formation?” he said. “But we’re in the Coruscant protected zone, one of the most heavily guarded areas in the galaxy. Who could possibly attack us?” He saw the incoming fleet as it soared in like birds of prey, appearing out of nowhere. In the same moment, he felt the stunning blows from their ion cannons, which immediately crippled the Adamant’s defensive systems.

“Battlestations!” he cried in his gravelly voice as another thundering blow slammed into the side of the Adamant.

“Minor outer hull breach,” the operations officer shouted. “Loss of pressure. Emergency bulkhead doors have closed.”

“Transmit a distress signal,” Ackbar yelled. “Request immediate assistance from Coruscant security. Now!”

“All weapons systems off-line,” the tactical officer reported. “We can’t even fire a shot. Engines are still undamaged, though—almost as if our attackers are trying not to target them.”

“They want to steal this ship,” Ackbar said as the cold realization struck him. “And its cargo.”

The communications officer had begun transmitting a distress signal, but the round-faced young man looked up almost immediately, his cheeks pale. “Sir, communication systems are nonfunctional. We can’t even request help.”

Admiral Ackbar swallowed. Coruscant would note the attack and respond within minutes—but by then, he knew, it would be too late.

The enemy ships closed in.

The modified assault shuttle zeroed in on its target. At his controls the former TIE pilot Qorl guided the attack. He wore a black skull-like helmet that sealed against his skin and recirculated breathable air. The dark goggles covering his eyes transmitted important tactical data to his retinas.

He positioned the shuttle’s circular cutting “mouth” attachment against the armor plating of the Rebel supply cruiser. The name Adamant had been stenciled on the side … Adamant, which meant impenetrable, unyielding. Qorl grunted to himself. The exceedingly tough cutting teeth were made from industrial-grade Corusca gems and could slice through any known substance. The Shadow Academy’s takeover troops would be in control of the ship within moments.

Qorl punched an important-looking red button on the controls. It set the Corusca blades spinning, chewing, until the attachment had sliced out a large circle in the Adamant’s hull, opening a hole into the supply cruiser.

Qorl clenched the black-gloved hand of his bulky droid arm into a fist. His own arm had been crippled when his TIE fighter crashed on the jungle moon of Yavin 4, but Imperial engineers had replaced the twisted limb with a more powerful droid attachment. His strength had increased, though he could not feel anything with his new mechanical fingers.

Eager stormtroopers assembled in the boarding tube, holding their blaster rifles ready. Qorl knew that the supply cruisers main defenses had been on the escort ships, the fourteen heavily armed corvettes, E-wings, and X-wings that had flanked the Adamant on its trip to Coruscant. The Rebels had become complacent at their capital world, though, and they had let their defenses lapse for just a moment. Qorl, lurking in his invisible hiding place, had seized that moment to strike.

“Airtight seal complete,” a stormtrooper captain reported.

“Very well,” Qorl said, standing from his command chair. “Begin the assault. We must be away from here within five standard minutes. We have no time for errors.”

The sealed hatch of the boarding tube popped open, and the stormtroopers charged in, firing at anything that moved using only stun beams. They had no particular desire to avoid killing the Adamant’s crew, but deadly blaster bolts might cause irreparable damage to the bridge’s control systems.

Some of the Rebel crew had taken shelter behind consoles. They fired at the stormtroopers, releasing wild bursts of energy. One trooper went down, a smoking hole in his white chest armor, making a gurgling sound that ended with a burst of static over his comm system.

Qorl marched in, holding a blaster pistol in his droid hand. The stormtroopers fired repeatedly. The Rebel helmsman went down, flying backwards as bolts of blue energy knocked him aside. A tactical officer screamed a challenge as she leaped from her position, shooting four times in quick succession. She killed two stormtroopers before she, too, was stunned.

Qorl strode forward, intent on the Adamant’s helm. He needed to get this ship moving soon. The dark goggles of his TIE helmet allowed little peripheral vision, and as he passed the command station, the Rebel commanding officer—a fish-faced Calamarian—leaped up and tackled him. Qorl’s blaster pistol clattered to the floor.

The officer wrestled with Qorl, fighting with flipper hands, but the TIE pilot drove his powerful droid fist into the face of the alien, knocking him out cold. Qorl retrieved his blaster pistol and climbed to his feet, brushing off his black uniform.

A stormtrooper captain marched up to him smartly. “The bridge is secure, sir. Ready to move out.”

Qorl sat down in the Adamant’s command chair. “Very well.” He sealed his helmet and his padded suit for total containment, which would protect him from the rapid decompression when the assault ship detached itself from the hull. He hesitated. “Stuff these Rebels into an escape pod, and launch it.”

“Save them, sir?” the trooper asked, perplexed. “We don’t have much time.”

“Then be quick about it!” Qorl snapped. Conflicting emotions warred within him. These were the enemy, and he had sworn to fight them—but the crew on this ship had battled valiantly, and he couldn’t stomach letting them die as they lay there unconscious.

The stormtroopers paused for only a second, then hustled as they dragged the limp forms to the bridge escape pod and unceremoniously dumped them inside the defenseless craft. The stormtrooper captain sealed the hatch and punched the pod’s external launch control. With a hiss from explosive bolts and a gush of compressed gases, the escape pod shot away.

Qorl studied the Adamant’s tactical station. Rebel defensive forces were finally on their way, streaking up out of orbit and heading toward the besieged supply ship. “Go!” he said to the troopers. “Take the assault shuttle and escape. I will meet you back at the base.”

The stormtroopers hurried to the shark-mouthed assault shuttle and sealed the boarding hatch. Qorl braced himself as the modified ship detached itself, letting the contained atmosphere rush out of the bridge through the gaping hole, to space.

Secure in his suit, Qorl powered up all the engines. He fed in preprogrammed coordinates, and the Adamant lurched into motion. As the Rebel fleet zoomed in, Qorl followed his Imperial ships, carrying with him an incredible treasure that would help the Second Imperium gain its rightful place of military superiority.

The base was very close indeed.

Admiral Ackbar returned to consciousness, and found himself crammed with his crew inside an escape pod that whirled out of control through space. His head ached, and he felt as if a space mine had exploded inside his skull. His crew members groaned and stirred, coming awake. For some reason their lives had been spared. He wriggled his way over to one of the tiny viewports so he could watch for rescue craft.

As the escape pod spun about in a nauseating spiral, Admiral Ackbar saw his own ship from the outside. The hijacked space cruiser Adamant lumbered into motion and picked up speed as the Imperial fighters streaked ahead of it.

New Republic reinforcements headed on a direct path to recapture the precious weapons and supplies—but already Ackbar could see that the Imperial ships would be long gone by the time those reinforcements arrived.

Ackbar watched the Adamant vanish before the Coruscant ships came close enough to fire a shot. He wished he could just fall back into unconsciousness, but the splitting pain in his skull kept him wide awake.