a day's warning. By the time she considers what will happen,
it will all be done.
And Kirtan Loor would be one giant step closer to being
free.
29
Four minutes to reversion to realspace. Nawara Ven began a
quick systems check on his X-wing. Lasers were powered up
and linked for offside firing in pairs. He had six proton tor-
pedoes, and had configured that weapon system to shoot
them one at a time. Fuel was good; acceleration compensator
was set .05 off full, giving him a feel for his position in space,
and his life-support systems checked out--including the
heated stockings into which he fit his lekku to protect them if
he got blasted out of his cockpit.
He shivered. He'd been shot out of an X-wing during the
first battle of Borleias. The concussion of ejecting had
stunned him. He'd floated in space, helpless, in the midst of a
roiling dogfight. Cold nibbled away at his fingers, toes, and
lek-tips, while a little chronographic indicator flashing on the
inside of his helmet's evac-visor counted down the minutes
until his air supply quit. Watching the seconds slip away,
he'd felt time was moving a lot faster than it should have.
! knew I was going to die. He shook his head. Then
Captain Celchu showed up and saved me. He didn't have to
do that. In fact, he was insane to do that. After he pulled me
to safety, there was no way I could ever think he was an
Imperial agent.
A beep from his R5 unit marked 30 seconds to rever-
sion. "Thanks. Even up my shields forward and back. I don't
expect trouble, but I want to be ready."
The droid complied with the request and Nawara pre-
pared himself for the rendezvous with the bacta convoy.
Rogue Squadron's Two flight, led by Lieutenant Pash
Cracken and including Gavin and Shiel as well as Nawara,
was supposed to break off and head sunward to cover the
tail end of the convoy. The last ship was to be the Pulsar
Skate, so they'd form up on it. One flight, with Wedge in the
lead, would take the head of the convoy, and Three flight,
which was still one pilot short, was to orient itself toward
any trouble.
Not that there should be any. The shards of Alderaan
formed an asteroid field commonly known as the Graveyard.
The majority of traffic into the sector came from Alderaanian
expatriots returning to see the sun beneath which they were
born one more time and to leave grave-gifts among the aster-
oids. Others came to plunder those grave-gifts, and some
even claimed to have seen a massive armory ship named An-
other Chance among the planet's ruins--though Nawara
thought that ship as much a legend as the fabled Katana fleet.
I wanted to ask Tycho if he wanted me to leave anything
for him, but I wasn't allowed any contact with him after I
was briefed. Nawara had recorded a message and saved it in
the computer for Tycho in case he didn't make it back, but
the mission was supposed to be little more than ceremonial.
Aside from their timetable slipping by three quarters of an
hour because of a fuel pump failure that delayed their take-
off, the mission had gone exactly as advertised. But it's the
ones that are supposed to be easy that hurt the most.
The white tunnel through which his ship had been hur-
tling exploded into a million separate pinpricks of fire. Some
of those pinpricks resolved themselves into distant stars,
while others refused to shrink. Green darts stabbed into
some of the brighter points in the system, then those points
exploded. "Sithspawn!"
"S-foils into attack position." Wedge's voice came
through the helmet comm unit strong and cool. "Twelve, get
me a full scan of the sector. One and Two flights, on me."
Nawara reached up with his right hand and flicked the
switch that split his stabilizer foils into the cross pattern that
gave the fighter its name. Nudging his stick to port, he
brought his fighter in on Pash's starboard flank with a
fighter-length separating them. "I've got you, Five."
"Thanks, Six."
Aril Nunb broke into the comm channel with her report.
"Caught a flash of something big heading out--a Super Star
balls, two lambs, and a Strike Cruiser designated Terma-
gant."
"What about the freighters?"
"We just saw the last one explode."
Nawara's stomach folded in on itself. "Gone? They're
all gone?"
"An Imperial SSD wouldn't leave much behind." Fear
and revulsion filled Rhysati's voice, and Nawara could easily
visualize the hard look in her hazel eyes. "We're going in,
right, Rogue Leader?"
"Twelve, any sign of the Skate?"
"No, Commander."
"Nothing at all? No beacon?"
"There's no beacon from half the hulks I have on my
scan." Aril's voice softened a bit. "A Super Star Destroyer
has enough power to completely vape any of the ships in the
convoy."
"Right, right." Wedge's voice trailed off and no one
spoke to fill the void. "Blast it! All right, listen up. We're
going in, and we're going in hot. The Strike Cruiser is our
primary target. Proton torps, dual-fire. I want it down and
out immediately."
Erisi's voice crackled through the comm unit. "That
means the T1Es will have no way to get out of here."
The edge in Wedge's voice came through unadulterated.
"Is that a problem?"
"Not for me, Lead."
Nawara keyed his comm unit. "What about the lambs?"
The two Lambda-class shuttles carried weapons and could
be tougher than TIEs to handle because they also sported
shields.
"We give them one chance to run. After that, they can go
away, too."
Aril again spoke. "I'm downloading tac-data to every-
one. Termagant isn't straight Imp, it's allied with Zsinj."
"Was allied with Zsinj." Wedge's ship began to lengthen
its lead over the others. "Come on, Rogues. Warlord Zsinj
apparently wanted the Alliance's attention. Here's where we
make him pay for that mistake."
Following Wedge, the squadron sped in toward Zsinj's
forces and the convoy debris. The convoy had been am-
bushed out beyond the Graveyard and a bit below the sys-
tem's orbital plane. Rogue Squadron had come in on the
other side of the orbital plane. Because of this, and because
of the way Zsinj's forces chose to orient themselves respec-
tive to the system, by flying down to them, Rogue Squadron
was, from their perspective flying in up at their bellies.
Nawara watched his tactical screen. Because the TIEs
were making strafing runs on what were left of the freighters,
they had no unit cohesion. With the enormous amount of
debris in and around where they were flying, Nawara would
have been surprised if they had any clue about Rogue Squad-
ron's approach. So the ambusbers get ambushed.
How fit-
ting.
With the flick of his thumb he brought his weapons-
control over to proton torpedoes. Another touch of a button
and he linked both launching tubes. Range to the Termagant
stood at 4.5 kilometers. The X-wings closed fast as Wedge
led them down and around the freighter debris field, then
over and in at the Strike Cruiser. Nawara's head's-up display
went from green to yellow as the cruiser filled his sights, then
blazed red as his RS's keening wail announced he had a
target lock.
"Rogues, launch now!"
On Wedge's command the squadron fired their proton
torpedoes in near-perfect unison. Twenty-two torpedoes
streaked in at the lozenge-shaped Strike Cruiser, coming up
toward the ventral hull. The first couple detonated brilliantly
white against the ship's shields, but the rest pushed on
through. Several exploded against the hull, shredding and
blackening armor plating, while still more burst inside the
ship. Argent fire gushed from the ragged hole in the ship's
hull, then geysered out of several smaller openings on the
upper part of the ship.
The Strike Cruisers, as a class of ship, had been highly
lauded because of their unique construction. Built around a
central skeleton that bound the bridge to the engines, their
other components were completely modular. A cruiser con-
figured to carry troops could, after a short stay in some
spaceyard, emerge a TIE carrier like Termagant. Strike Cruis-
ers allowed the Empire to change the makeup of the Imperial
fleet without building entirely new ships.
That strength is Termagant's weakness. As the torpedoes
exploded inside the ship, the ship itself began to break apart.
The prow drifted upward as if the ship had run into an
invisible wall. Armored hull plates shattered where they had
covered the seam between the bow and the starboard TIE
hangar. The forward part of the hangar started twisting as it
ripped free of the skeleton. The cruiser began to roll, then the
whole front half of the ship spun off as the ship's waist
evaporated in the inferno the torpedoes caused.
"The eyes of the Warlord are upon us," Gavin quipped.
"TIEs inbound."
Nawara flipped back to his lasers and broke to port with
Pash. Coming up over the top, they climbed toward the in-
coming eyeballs. He punched all power to his forward shield
and prepared for a head-to-head pass. He dropped his
crosshairs on the growing speck that was an approaching
TIE starfighter. He watched the range close, then popped a
quick shot off. A pair of laser-bolts glanced off the eyebali's
port panel, imparting a spin to the ship. Nawara started to
dive after it, but with his speed, he overshot it. "I got the other half of it, Six."
"Thanks, Gavin." Nawara evened out his shields and
pulled back up. Inverting his ship, he completed a big loop
and followed the rest of squadron back into the fray. In the
boiling cloud of fighters, friend and foe flashed past so
quickly that it was impossible to account for everyone's posi-
tion. Nawara knew a number of the other pilots in the
squadron had a "situational awareness" that was superior to
his own, but he figured this battle had to be taxing even
them.
And if you take long enough to line up a shot . . . The
hiss of lasers gnawing away at his aft shield completed his
thought and sent a jolt through him. "I have one on my tail.
I'm going to try to shake him."
Nawara hit the right rudder pedal, swinging the
X-wing's aft to port. He kicked the ship up onto the star-
board S-foil, then pulled the stick back and curled down into
a corkscrew dive. He throttled back a bit, hoping his pursuer
would overshoot him, but the aft scan showed the pilot pull-
ing a twisting roll and dive that covered more distance, keep-
ing him in behind Nawara.
The Twi'lek punched the t hrottle forward and enlarged
the gap between them, then broke hard to port and started to
climb again. Maybe that will get rid of him.
Lasers hissing on his aft shields again told him the tactic
hadn't worked. Nawara rocked the X-wing back and forth
and bounced it up and down, making it a tough target to hit,
but the TIE pilot stayed with him.
! have to do something. Sweat formed on his upper lip
and leaked in at the corners of his mouth, coating his tongue
with the taste of copper. His lekku twitched in their fabric
prisons. Maybe if I run into the Graveyard . . .
He started to pull up and head for the asteroids, when
something behind him exploded. He glanced at his aft moni-
tor and saw no TIE there. "Thanks."
"My pleasure, Six." Erisi seemed pleased with herself.
"My wing would be distraught if you were hurt."
"I owe you, Four, for the both of us."
"Acknowledged, Six."
Aril Nunb's voice broke in on the comm channel.
"Lambs are running."
"Thanks, Twelve, let them go." Wedge's voice lacked
none of its earlier vehemence. "We've got plenty to do here."
Nawara brought his X-wing up and evened out the
shields. Trailing Erisi back in toward the fight, he saw two or
three TIEs explode. Another came shooting out of the dog-
fight, then barrel-rolled in on Erisi for a broadside shot at
her.
"Four, break up!" Nawara snapped his fighter up on the
port S-foil, then climbed. He swooped in on the eyeball,
stayed with it as the pilot juked down, then hit his trigger.
The first pair of laser-bolts only melted holes in the starboard
solar panel, but the second hit the ball cockpit dead on. The
TIE began to spin out of control, then exploded in a cloud of
brilliant incandescent gas. Debris sparked off his forward
shield as he flew past the outer edges of the fireball.
"Lead, Five here. The TIEs are breaking off. They're
heading for the Graveyard."
"I copy, Five. Rogue Squadron, let them go."
"You can't be serious, Lead."
"I am, Gavin."
"But what they did--"
"Doesn't matter right now. They're dead and they know
it. I don't want any of us getting dead. Regroup in your
flights and stand by." A momentary squeal ended Wedge's
transmission, telling Nawara that the commander was shift-
ing over to a different comm unit frequency.
Nawara rolled his fighter and dove down to where Pash
and the other two members of Two flight were orbiting. Peer-
ing out through his cockpit canopy, he got the first good look
at the remains of the convoy. If humans can bring themselves
to do this to a convoy of ships hauling bacta, I am glad I'm
not human.
A few of the freighters were still recognizable as such.
Hull compartments had been blown open by explosions.
Bacta that had geysered out through the holes had flash-
frozen into monuments to the terror the ships' crews must
have felt. Fires burned deep in the hearts of several ships,
consuming the last remnants of atmosphere. Pieces of other
ships drifted through the area, slamming into one another,
breaking up yet further to careen into other dead hulks.
The worst image Nawara saw was of one small ship--
one barely bigger than the Skate--that appeared, from the
prow to midships, to be intact. Back of that point the ship
did not really exist--at least, nothing recognizable as a ship.
Turbolaser fire had hit so fast that the latter half of the
ship had been liquified. An amorphous blob of metal fringed
with condensed metal mist, like the down from a silvery bird,
trailed in the ship's wake.
The sheer violence of the attack that had destroyed that
ship shook Nawara. The transparisteel cockpit panels on the
ship had blown out. He realized the Super Star Destroyer's
turbolasers would have superheated the atmosphere in the
ship. The crew would have been cooked inside and out in the
blink of an eye. They would have been dead before they
knew what had happened to them, but their last moments
must have been full of terror because of the SSD's presence.
Nawara keyed his comm unit. "Hypothetical question
you're part of a convoy with minimal arms and you come
out of hyperspace in the shadow of a Super Star Destroyer
and a Strike Cruiser that's deployed its TIEs. Do you pro-
voke an attack?"
"Ooryl cannot see how anyone would be that suicidal."
"Right, so you'd surrender and tell the SSD that you're
hauling bacta, which is currently very valuable." Nawara
frowned. "It makes no sense for anyone to have killed the
convoy."
"That's why to know Warlord Zsinj is to wonder about
his sanity." Disgust filled Pash's voice. "He's definitely some-
one who needs a lot of killing."
"Count me in."
"Me, too."
A squeal came through the comm unit, then Wedge
spoke. "I've just had word with the TIEs. They're giving
up---they were uneasy with the mission and they don't like
the fact that we showed up. They're going to recon the han-
gar sections of Termagant and see if they can reboard."
"Why, that hulk's not going anywhere? The engines are
in the other half and it's headed for the Graveyard."
"I noticed, Four. They're going to check for survivors