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    Rebel Stand

    Page 31
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      Flight's path. Jaina gauged Beelyath's and Tilath's firing patterns, timed them,

      felt Kyp doing the same.. and, as the enemy skips crossed before them, as

      Beelyath and Tilath sent stutterfire laser against the sterns of the skips one

      last time, Kyp, Jaina, and Jag fired from the skips' port quarter, their quad-

      linked lasers hitting yorik coral instead of voids. Both skips detonated,

      sending a cloud of gases and yorik coral chunks hurtling along their course.

      But now the wingmate of the first skip they'd hit was behind them, closing,

      firing. Jaina didn't listen to the good-shooting congratulations coming across

      the comm board; she followed Kyp as he made a tight loop up and to starboard,

      trying to elude their pursuit.

      Jag looped tighter, forcing the pursuer to divide his attention between his

      clawcraft and the two X-wings, and managed to come around behind the

      coralskipper even as it managed to maintain its position behind the X-wings. He

      poured laserfire into its stern and top hull, but all of it was dragged into the

      skip's defensive voids.

      Jaina felt a sort of mental shrug from Kyp. "Break," she said, aloud and

      through the Force but not over the comm frequencies, and she broke to port as

      Kyp broke to starboard.

      She gritted her teeth against the g-forces her tight turn exerted on her,

      but got oriented around toward that skip - just in time to see an X-wing flash

      over and past it at a right angle to its course, in time to see plasma

      projectiles tracking that X-wing strike the coralskipper instead. They chewed

      through its hull and the skip suddenly turned away, no longer anxious to fight.

      Piggy's distinctive, mechanical laugh sounded over the comm board. Jaina

      grinned. "Nice fleeing, Piggy."

      Wedge's X-wing reached low Borleias orbit as the Am-muud Swooper lumbered

      along behind. He tried to remind himself that the Corellian freighter "lumbered"

      only in comparison with a starfighter, of course; the freighter was nearly as

      fast and nimble as the Millennium Falcon.

      He dropped back to give his personal comlink a better chance to reach the

      ship. "Blackmoon Eleven to Swooper, do you have an exit path?"

      "We do, Eleven. Can you receive it?"

      "I've been patching my comlink and datapad into what's left of the computer

      on this battered baby. Just transmit me the directional and I'll escort you out.

      "

      "Will do, Eleven. Many thanks."

      Wedge waited until the numbers appeared on his data-pad screen, then

      reoriented to Ammuud Swooper's outbound course. He could only estimate, based on

      what he remembered of Borleias's current position in orbit around the star

      Pyria, but he believed that the course would take Ammuud Swooper in the general

      direction of the Deep Core worlds. Doubtless the freighter would only take a

      short hyperspace jump, a few light-years, and then correct to take them toward

      the rendezvous point.

      The starfighter's sensor board beeped with a new contact. Wedge took in the

      new information and bit back a curse. A squadron of coralskippers was headed

      their way, and would intercept Wedge and the freighter long before they were

      clear of Borleias's mass shadow.

      Charat Kraal poured plasma cannon fire into his opponent, saw some of it

      flitting around the edges of his target's void and chewing into its hull.

      As he'd suspected, the only kind of pilot foolish enough to disobey orders

      like that, to seek personal glory at the expense of duty, was a green pilot, one

      fresh from teaching. He might have gloriously fast reflexes, but he didn't have

      the experience or will to defeat someone like Charat Kraal.

      His target waggled side to side, signaling that he was quitting an

      exercise, the only way he had to communicate that he was surrending. He brought

      his voids around from his stern to his bow> symbolically baring his stomach,

      further sign that he was giving up this fight.

      Charat Kraal fired again, pouring damage into his target's stern, and, as

      he gained altitude relative to the other coralskipper, into its canopy. He saw

      the canopy crack and then explode outward from the atmospheric pressure within,

      saw one of his plasma projectiles hit and burn entirely through the torso of the

      pilot. That coral-skipper continued in straight-line flight, a flight that might

      never end.

      "Disobedience is death," Charat Kraal said aloud, as though the spirit of

      his enemy might hear him. "Unless you win. And you cannot win by surrendering."

      He looped back around toward the portion of the minefield where his pilots and

      Jaina Solo were.

      And he frowned. The cognition hood showed him the locations of all those

      fighters, but there were four fewer coralskipper glows than there should have

      been, even counting the pilot he'd just killed.

      Jaina Solo was whittling down the numbers of her pursuers. Charat Kraal

      shook his head and accelerated toward the action.

      Luke's X-wing blasted through a cloud of flame and vapor spilling out of a

      dying hlasthoat analog. He tensed against the impacts that would come if there

      was solid niatter in the cloud, but emerged on the far side without hitting

      anything. He fired the instant he was free of the cloud, his quad-linked lasers

      barely missing Mara's oncoming E-wing and ripping into the nose of the coral-

      skipper chasing her. His shot missed the dovin basal housing at the bow but tore

      into the yorik coral beneath it before a void moved into place to intercept the

      rest of the damage.

      The coralskipper, its pilot doubtless spooked by Luke's magical arrival

      from within a cloud of flames, banked away from Mara, breaking off pursuit. Luke

      looped around to roar up in his wife's wake. "Oh, there you are."

      Her voice, across the comm board, sounded amused. "Afraid I was running out

      on you?"

      "You know what a jealous, possessive man I am."

      "Starfighter Command to Blackmoon Squadron, Yellow Aces." The voice was

      Tycho's. "We're seeing increased defense at the worldship. Break off stern

      defense and move up to escort. We also need our spotter in place."

      "Blackmoon Leader copies." Luke checked his sensor and comm boards. The

      Blackmoons were in pretty bad shape, down to about half strength, though most of

      his losses were from damage to and withdrawal of starfighters rather than their

      destruction. He also read that the mysterious Blackmoon Eleven was off Borleias

      and engaged with what looked like an entire squad of coralskippers.

      He couldn't let that be his problem right now. "I'm your spotter," he said.

      "Two, assume control of the squadron."

      Mara said, "Negative on that. I'm your wing."

      He sighed, but knew better than to waste time by arguing. "Correction,

      Blackmoon Ten, take command."

      "Ten copies."

      "Leader's away." Luke kicked in his thrusters and roared straight toward

      the Yuuzhan Vong worldship, away from his reinforcements, away from everyone but

      Mara.

      Charat Kraal sped along in Jaina Solo's wake, leaving his other pilots

      behind through sheer piloting skill. Kilometer by kilometer he gained on her and

      knew, at last, that he was a better pilot than this infidel.

      All
    he had to do was get in range, disable her abomination-craft, and wait

      for a capture ship to assist him.

      The tiny gleam he could only see in his cognition hood, the one that

      indicated Jaina Solo's position, grew to a size indicating that he should be

      able to make out some details of the X-wing. But he could not; he could only see

      thruster emission from one engine. Yet it could not be moving so fast with

      three-quarters of its power gone.

      His coralskipper's gravitic sensors created the illusion that space itself

      was rippling in the distance ahead of Jaina Solo, the visual image of a dovin

      basal mine. She seemed to be aimed almost directly at it.

      Charat Kraal smiled. Her intention was clear-take a close pass by the mine,

      using its gravitational attraction to sling her around and accelerate her beyond

      Charat Kraal's ability to overtake.

      But it would not work that way. The mine would detect her specific

      graviational signature, recognize her as a most-wanted target, and reach out to

      strip her shields, perhaps annihilating her engines in the process.

      He had her. He had won.

      Her vehicle whipped around the dovin basal mine and came straight back at

      him. The turn was so abrupt that no living thing could have survived it, so

      unexpected that Charat Kraal sat stunned for a long, deadly moment.

      His surprise communicated itself to the coralskipper, which waited for

      instructions-dodge? Defend with voids? Open fire?

      And when Charat Kraal finally saw his target, made it out for what it was-a

      missile, unarmed, faster than any starfighter or coralskipper when it chose to

      be-he was only two-tenths of a second from impact.

      Harrar's pilot turned to the priest. "Jaina Solo is destroyed. It appears

      that Charat Kraal rammed her."

      Harrar shook his head. "You must be mistaken."

      "I think not. I witnessed the two images merge. There was energy released.

      Both images are gone." The pilot pulled his cognition hood back on... and then

      stiffened.

      "Well?"

      "You... were correct. Jaina Solo is not where I thought she was. Not in the

      minefield at all. She is in the vicinity of the worldship."

      "And Charat Kraal?"

      "Still dead."

      Eldo Davip sat alone at the control console of Lusankya, sweat dripping

      from his face despite the efforts of the chamber's cooling system to keep him

      comfortable.

      He wasn't on the Super Star Destroyer's bridge. That chamber, once

      brilliantly clean and huge enough for snub-fighters to land in, was destroyed;

      he'd seen the holocam image of a dying coralskipper corkscrewing its way into

      the front viewports, crashing through, annihilating everything there.

      But no one had been there, no officers, no droids. It had been left lit as

      bait, though no ship's controls operated there.

      All ship's controls were routed here, to an auxiliary bridge deep in the

      vessel's stern, a place where the command crew could operate if the stern were

      gone or the vessel somehow captured. Even this small chamber seemed empty and

      strange now; Davip was the only person left. Everywhere else, computer gear was

      patched into the ship's controls.

      Every few moments, another shudder racked Lusankya and the lights

      momentarily dimmed. Red showed on the screens of every diagnostics terminal,

      indicating that the systems they monitored were destroyed or nonfunctional. The

      only exceptions were the systems Davip's own terminal controlled: main

      thrusters, gravitic sensors, localized life support, localized power.

      He spared a glance for the door at the back of the chamber. Newly

      installed, it was a crude plate of armor that would lift out of the way-once-and

      give him access to the starfighter that lay beyond. The starfighter was already

      pointed along the shaft that led to Lu-sankya's stern. It was a way out for him.

      .. assuming that the damage the Star Destroyer was taking didn't collapse the

      shaft, didn't ruin the starfighter. If it did, he was dead.

      Well, dead or alive, he was going to finish this fight with a bang. He

      returned his attention to the sensors, to the large signal that indicated the

      Yuuzhan Vong world-ship ahead.

      Wedge accelerated away from the Ammuud Swooper and toward the oncoming

      squadron of coralskippers. His sensors showed two eager skip pilots moving out

      in front of the others, the better to engage him first. He expected Ammuud

      Swooper to turn tail, dive hack into the atmosphere, and try to find a safer

      exit vector, but the freighter came stolidly on in his wake. The reason why was

      soon evident: coralskippers from the vicinity of the biotics building site were

      now climbing after them.

      There was nowhere to run.

      In moments, the lead skips came into visual range. They separated and began

      launching plasma his way - all hut daring him to fly between them, to try to

      persuade them to fire on one another by accident.

      Wedge smiled mirthlessly. A novice pilot might try that very thing, but

      would find his shields stripped by a deft use of the coralskippers' voids.

      Without shields, his X-wing would be easy pickings for the skips. Instead, he

      veered to starboard, passing on the outward side of the skip in that direction,

      firing stuttering lasers at that craft until his weapons could no longer depress

      to hit it. He saw his shields flare as a bit of plasma hit them and was

      deflected, but his diagnostics didn't indicate a direct hit.

      Then he was past the two lead coralskippers. They turned to follow. The

      oncoming ten also vectored as if to head him off, but they weren't making the

      kind of speed the lead coralskippers were,

      Ammuud Swooper maintained her original course, and none of the

      coralskippers remained directly in her path. Wedge frowned at the sensor board.

      Why?

      He increased the angle of his starboard turn. The two coralskippers

      continued to accelerate in his wake. The other ten turned so that their course

      paralleled his, pacing him instead of intercepting him.

      That was it. At least one of the lead skips had to be the squadron

      commander. He wanted a duel. His pilots wanted to watch. They figured the

      commander could finish Wedge off, then they could catch up to Ammuud Swooper

      before the freighter could get free of Borleias's mass shadow.

      Well, it wasn't going to work that way.

      Wedge veered toward the pacing coralskippers, maneuvering so unexpectedly

      that the skips on his tail took an extra moment to turn after him. The maneuver

      was harsh enough to cause Wedge's sight to gray out just a little-he could see

      his vision contract, as though he were flying into a tunnel, but he shook his

      head as he straightened out his course and his vision returned to normal. He

      began firing into the midst of the ten skips, and, as he'd hoped, there was no

      immediate return fire: the squadron leader had doubtless instructed his pilots

      not to interfere, that Wedge was his alone to kill.

      Wedge sprayed his stutterfire over the flank of one skip, then, as he

      gauged the speed with which its void intercepted the laser, switched to quad

      link for a harder punch. His shot, beautifully placed, dropped between the

      defensive
    voids and hulled the skip. It detonated into the small, grisly cloud

      characteristic of a dying coral-skipper. Wedge roared past the cloud, missing it

      by mere meters, hearing the ping of small chunks of yorik coral striking his

      shields.

      As soon as he was past, he looped around, opposite the direction the skips

      were heading. He was rewarded by the sight of the skips slowing, turning back

      toward him as he circled. The lead skips punched through the same hole in the

      formation he'd just been through and turned after him, gaining ground.

      In a moment-tunnel vision returning as he performed a turn too hard for his

      body to quite withstand-he was lined up on the formation again. The nine

      remaining witness skips had done an impressive about-face and were now reaching

      the cloud of gases and coral chunks that had once been one of their own number.

      Wedge armed and fired a proton torpedo, then switched back to stutterfire

      lasers and began spattering red beams among those targets. Their voids came up

      and effortlessly caught the energy.

      Then his torpedo hit. It didn't reach any of the functional targets, but

      hit the largest remaining chunk of the destroyed coralskipper, deep in the midst

      of the formation of skips as they passed around it.

      It detonated in a bright flash, its energy hurled outward in all directions

      simultaneously, slamming into every coral-skipper within its explosive diameter.

      The skips' voids could intercept only a fraction of the released energy.

      Wedge looped up and around the expanding gas cloud, pouring on speed to

      gain a little ground on his pursuers while he waited for the sensor board to

      clear.

      When it did, the numbers were like a lifeday present. Six of the ten

      coralskippers in that formation were gone or smashed into smaller pieces. Two

      more were on ballistic courses toward Borleias's atmosphere. The last two were

      turning to join up with the squadron leader and his wingmate, but even they

      seemed to be moving sluggishly.

      Impossible odds had just been turned into one-third impossible. And in the

      distance, Ammuud Swooper continued plodding her way toward her hyperspace launch

      point.

      Czulkang Lah evaluated the data and variables. He did not like the

     


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