Shadow Fall (Star Wars): An Alphabet Squadron Novel by Alexander Freed

Author:Alexander Freed
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2020-06-23T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

—

Food did nothing to calm him, but he ate. Reports from the front of scattered anti-air fire and riots on the ground—some pro-Republic, some pro-Imperial, each hard to differentiate from the other—did nothing to quell his desire to join his squadrons, but he listened.

Soran Keize eventually turned from the hologram of Troithe to charts of the Cerberon system. He assigned three flights to search for escape pods from the Edict and the Aerie and see if they’d made planetfall beyond the reach of Troithe’s shields—in the planet’s oceans or across the scarred continent. He chose other flights to leave Troithe, to patrol Cerberon and watch for vessels attempting to escape. The moment the New Republic received word of the system’s fall, a countdown would begin ending in Shadow Wing’s defeat; no one could be allowed to depart Cerberon carrying a plea for reinforcements.

He still didn’t know what to do, though.

It wasn’t yet midnight when Kandende reported an encrypted Imperial transmission coming in from one of the aging refinery districts at the north end of the continent. One of the TIE patrols had picked it up during its third pass over the region—either the signal had just been activated, or it was weak enough to be nearly undetectable.

“Let’s see it,” Soran said.

The display table flickered again. Ribbons of light coalesced and sculpted the head of a woman whose dark, youthful face was crowned by elaborate braids and gemstone studs. Her expression conveyed the formal dignity of someone for whom formality and dignity were all she had left. Creases under her eyes suggested the scars of exhaustion. “—someone receiving? Channel nine-two-alpha utilizing military clearance code six-three-delta-delta—”

The woman went on, each syllable enunciated with marked determination. Soran didn’t recognize the code and, without the Aerie or the Edict, had no way to confirm its authority. But he decided the risk of replying was minimal, and he adjusted the table’s comm controls. “This is Colonel Soran Keize of the 204th Imperial Fighter Wing,” he said. “To whom am I speaking?”

If the woman was surprised, she didn’t show it. “This is Acting Governor Fara Yadeez. It is a privilege to speak to you, Colonel.”

“Acting governor?” Soran asked. Stress and weariness scraped at his brain as he attempted to recall facts he’d never expected to need. “What’s become of Governor Hastemoor?”

“Killed by the rebels in the attack on the capital,” Yadeez replied. There was bitterness in her tone but no sorrow. “The cabinet and advisory council were hard hit over the past months. I don’t know if you received our dispatches following Endor—”

“Only in part.”

“Then suffice it to say that the line of succession ends with me, Colonel. I am the rightful ruler of this planet, until such time as I am replaced by sector command or a higher authority.”

Soran wondered just how far Fara Yadeez had climbed. But he heard the implied question and said, “I am not here to replace you, Governor. The Empire is grateful for your service in this chaotic time.

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