Star Wars - Command Decision by Timothy Zahn

Author:Timothy Zahn [Zahn, Timothy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 1996-11-24T18:44:08+00:00

They’d been sitting on the hangar bay deck for nearly twenty minutes now, ever since the outer hatchway doors had slammed shut behind the shuttle and the aliens had unceremoniously herded out here, and Parck’s legs were starting to feel the strain. Slowly, carefully, he eased them into a different position —

The barrel of a heavy handgun slapped warningly against the side of his head. “You not move,” the alien wheezed.

One of the troopers sitting across from Parck stirred, his face darkening as he looked up at the guard. “Patience,” Parck murmured, just in case the other was thinking of trying something foolish or desperate. The time for action, Thrawn had told him, would come only after Creysis’s people had had time to examine the shuttle and the damaged TIE fighter they’d brought aboard.

From the look of things, that time must be getting close. The shuttle itself had been only cursorily looked at, but the TIE had been practically disassembled. The pilot, Lieutenant Klar, had been over there with the aliens most of the time, a pair of weapons jammed into his ribs as they kept up their running interrogation. From where he sat, Parck couldn’t hear either the questions or Klar’s answers; he could only hope Thrawn had coached the pilot on what he was or was not to tell them.

Across the way, a door irised open and Creysis stepped into the hangar bay. Parck eyed him as he lumbered toward the group of prisoners, but the alien expression was impossible to read.

The effort turned out to be unnecessary. “Parck,” he wheezed, those repulsive mouth tentacles wiggling more than usual. “So you were telling truth. Foolish for you.”

“What do you mean?” Parck asked.

“Your spacecraft is indeed a po’dorj, ripe for harvest,” Creysis said, pointing with his elbow in the direction of the outer hatchway. “Slow and feeble and full of good things. Soon it will be in the grip of the Ebruchi.”

“Ah,” Parck nodded. “So that’s what you call yourselves, is it? The Ebruchi? We’d wondered about that.”

The mouth tentacles momentarily stopped their movement. “Do you not hear me, Parck?” he demanded. “I say we will take your spacecraft and all you possess.”

“With what?” Parck snorted. “The ships you have here? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“All the Ebruchi will soon be here,” Creysis snarled, or as close as alien voice could probably get to a snarl with that chronic wheezing. “Even now messengers have flown to summon them to the kill.”

Parck nodded, a warm glow of satisfaction filling him. Satisfaction, and the usual admiration for his commander. Once again, as he had so many times before. Thrawn had anticipated his opponent’s moves down to the letter. “And what makes you think the Admonitor will still be here when they arrive?” he asked.

“Because even now it continues to chase us,” Creysis said. “Foolishly, for it is too slow to catch us. They think to rescue you from the Ebruchi victory feast. Instead, they will lose all.”

Parck swallowed. An Ebruchi victory feast. Did

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