Rebel Stand Page 32

  conclusions he was reaching. There was altogether too much attention being paid

  to the Domain Hul worldship, too many missing infidel resources, too much

  unexplained behavior from the gigantic triangle ship now mere minutes from

  reaching him.

  "Prepare to disengage," he commanded. "Select a Rim-ward withdrawal course

  and execute it on my order."

  He could feel the eyes of his officers on him. Some would be concealing

  anger at what they interpreted as an act of cowardice. Some, knowing how bad his

  eyes were, wouldn't bother to conceal it.

  He understood their anger. He felt it himself. But he knew, too, that he

  did not serve the Yuuzhan Vong cause by needlessly sacrificing a resource as

  great as a healthy worldship, not when he could withdraw now and assault again

  later with victory more likely. So he ignored them, ignored their stares.

  One of his officers said, "Subsurface dovin basal clusters are being

  maneuvered into the correct position."

  Then Kasdakh Bhul stood beside him once more. He stared up through the

  command chamber's viewing lens. "There is something wrong with the oncoming

  triangle ship."

  "I should hope so, considering the damage that has been inflicted upon her.

  "

  "I mean, she is not what I expected. 1 have been forced to learn something

  of the infidel vessels, and this one is not dying the way she should. Her

  skeleton is wrong."

  Czulkang Lah squinted up through the viewing lens, but all he could make

  out of the approaching vessel were her outline and the flashes of light,

  exchanges between starfighters and coralskippers, all around her.

  He moved to the blaze bug niche, reached into it until he pointed straight

  at the glowing creatures representing the triangle ship, then irritably waved

  toward himself. Blaze bugs from the back of the niche swarmed to the center,

  joined with the image of the triangle ship, and caused it to grow in apparent

  size and detail. Czulkang Lah kept waving until the triangle ship dominated the

  niche, surrounded by blaze bugs engaged in dogfights.

  The triangle ship had suffered tremendous damage. The topside extension

  where her commanders were said to remain was almost gone. No sputters of light

  leapt from her flanks or belly-all her weapons were dead. And her nose was

  destroyed, the front one-quarter of the vessel worn away by the constant attacks

  by coralskippers and Yuuzhan Vong capital ships.

  But something protruded from the vessel's bow, like an enormous needle,

  reaching from where the ruin began to where the vessel's original prow would

  have been.

  "That is what I mean," Kasdakh Bhul said. "It is like a stinger. Their

  vessels don't have stingers, just compartments."

  Czulkang Lah felt something like dread creep through his chest. "Are we

  ready to withdraw?" he asked, his voice curiously calm.

  "Not yet," one of his officers answered.

  * * *

  Individual coralskippers, separated from squadrons or the last survivors of

  their squadrons, broke out of the worldship's orbit and moved to intercept Luke

  and Mara. The two Jedi did not slow to engage. They juked and jinked to avoid

  plasma cannon fire, they responded with laser-fire, and they roared past,

  heading relentlessly on toward the worldship while their enemies turned after

  them.

  Then they were just above the worldship, on a diving course toward its

  surface. They vectored to enter orbit and whipped around the worldship's

  equator, heading toward its far side, the side faced away from the star Pyria.

  They crossed the terminator and were suddenly plunged into darkness.

  In moments, sensors showed an intact squadron ahead of them, an equal

  number of miscellaneous skips arriving over the horizon from behind, and enough

  empty space around the two Jedi to give them a few seconds of breathing space.

  "This would be as good a time as any, Luke," Mara said.

  "No argument here." Luke switched on the apparatus they'd wired into his

  comm unit, and the comm units of several of the prestige pilots of Lusankya's

  guardian squadrons, just prior to the launch of this mission. "Broadcasting

  location," he said. "I'm going to stay on the straight and narrow as long as I

  can stand to."

  There was a touch of laughter to Mara's voice: "You know, I've said that in

  the past."

  "Very funny."

  Luke's forward shield flared into incandescence as something hit it-not a

  plasma ball, for he would have seen that coming, but something that had not been

  illuminated until it hit. Probably a grutchin. He tightened, clenching his jaw

  as though hardening his body could harden his X-wing against incoming fire. He

  was a sitting duck until his task was do'ne.

  Mara moved up before him, drifting back and forth, making herself the main

  target of the oncoming skips but never moving so far that her shields did not

  offer protection to Luke.

  Luke could feel her reaching for him in the Force. It wasn't a gesture

  seeking reassurance, not really; he could feel her confidence, her focus on her

  task.

  It took him a moment to understand. She wanted to be there, with him, in

  case something happened, in case one or the other of them suddenly winked out of

  existence. It was suddenly hard for him to swallow.

  Then his sensor board yowled as something huge materialized in space behind

  him, no more than two hundred meters in his wake.

  It was Mon Mothma, dropping out of hyperspace. The great Interdictor

  immediately began drifting to Luke's port, away from the worldship's surface;

  she had to have been on a slightly different course before entering hyperspace.

  A moment later, a cloud erupted from Mow Mothma's underside-her complement

  of starfighters, squadron after squadron streaking away from the launching bays,

  some to guard the Destroyer, some to head off incoming coral-skippers from ahead

  and behind.

  The crude gravitic sensor that was part of the X-wing's new instrument

  package lit up. Mon Mothma had activated her gravity-well generators. If the

  plan was going according to schedule, she'd be activating her yammosk jamming,

  too.

  "Last act, Mara."

  "Let's catch our breath before we join the other players, farm boy."

  "Let's do that."

  NINETEEN

  The worldship's navigation crew did not have to be told to maneuver away

  from the Interdictor. But once they did set a new course, a noise akin to dismay

  wafted from their area.

  Czulkang Lah merely looked at Kasdakh Bhul. The warrior moved to the

  navigators, spoke briefly with them, and returned.

  In pained tones, he said, "There is confusion. Five dovin basal mines have

  just chased five Millennium Falcons into our immediate space. Their attempts to

  seize the infidel ships are interfering with the worldship's dovin basals."

  "Five Millennium Falcons."

  "Yes."

  "And even one is enough to cause us grief."

  A few kilometers away, another New Republic ship winked into existence-

  Errant Venture. It immediately opened up with all guns, directing damage against

  the worldship's surface, a
gainst the nearest Yuuzhan Vong capital ships.

  "I've breathed," Luke said. "Let's get 'em."

  With four coralskippers closing on his tail, Wedge hurtled away from Ammuud

  Swooper's course. The freighter was less than a minute from being able to enter

  hyperspace. A minute... surely Wedge could hold the skips here that long. Even

  at the cost of his life.

  Czulkang Lah watched as his fleet became uncoordinated. Suddenly

  coralskippers swarmed like awkward trainees. Villips everted as the commanders

  of his capital ships stopped receiving gravitic orders. The spike at the nose of

  Lusankya was now visible through the viewing lens above; more of the ship had

  eroded, revealing even more spike. The gravitic interdiction of one of the

  triangle ships in orbit above the worldship was keeping his dovin basals from

  maneuvering Domain Hul out of Lu-sankya's path.

  He ignored his commanders. "Activate my son's villip," he told Kasdakh

  Bhul.

  A moment later, the vilHp installed in the most prominent niche everted and

  took on the features of Tsavong Lah. "What news, my father?" the warmaster

  asked. "Has Borleias fallen?"

  "Borleias has fallen," said Czulkang Lah, his voice weary.

  "And have you slain all the infidels? Or do some of their forces remain to

  flee?"

  "Some forces remain."

  "But still, a great victory."

  "No, son. Limited facts can point at victory when in fact there is only

  defeat to taste."

  The villip frowned. "Defeat? You have achieved the conditions of victory.

  You have once more brought glory to Domain Lah."

  "In a minute I will be dead. Too many clever minds, however heretical they

  may be, have undone me."

  "But-"

  "Be quiet, my son, and know that my last words were reserved for you. Fare

  well, and may the gods smile upon you, as they once did upon me." Czulkang Lah

  reached up to stroke the villip. It inverted, carrying Tsavong Lah's expression

  of bafflement with it.

  Kasdakh Bhul stepped before him. "We are on the verge of victory, old one.

  Pull one last strategy out of your mind. Give us that last success."

  Czulkang Lah stared into the face of a warrior too stupid even to know

  regret. The old warmaster held his silence. He'd promised that his words to

  Tsavong Lah would be his last. He would not diminish their value by breaking

  that promise.

  One of his officers, his voice quaking in fear or anger - or both-asked,

  "Shall I give the order to abandon Domain Hul?"

  Czulkang Lah nodded.

  Suddenly space was swarming with New Republic reinforcements. Gavin let off

  his thruster and watched, bemused, as four TIE Interceptors off Mon Mothma

  strafed the coralskipper duo he and Nevil had been dueling, shredding them by

  virtue of fresh pilots and fresh lasers.

  "Rogue Squadron, regroup on me," Gavin said. "Let's let the latecomers

  escort Lusankya in. Blackmoons, how are you doing?"

  "Rogue Leader, this is Blackmoon Ten. We're, ah, not doing too well. Four

  actives remain, not counting Black-moon One and Two, who are detached."

  "Recommend you sit back and watch for a minute, then."

  "Can't do it, Rogue Leader. One of our own appears to be in a furball back

  at Borleias. We're going back after him."

  "We'll come with you."

  Wedge finished his loop and headed back toward his four pursuers. They were

  firing long before he was aligned, but two of them, the survivors of Wedge's

  proton torpedo. attack, were not firing accurately; their undersides were

  charred, and Wedge suspected that those two coralskippers were damaged. Injured,

  and in pain.

  Not that two healthy ones couldn't kill him. Wedge sideslipped, rotated to

  change his profile, juked and jinked to keep incoming plasma and grutchin fire

  off him.

  As he approached the coralskipper formation, he drifted to port and

  squeezed off some stutterfire laser at the healthy skip on that side. He fired

  for only a fraction of a second, letting the short series of beams drift forward

  from the target's cockpit, watching as the skip's voids moved with the streams

  of coherent light and swallowed them; then he switched the weapon over to quad-

  linked fire, flicked his targeting reticle back toward the cockpit, and fired,

  all in one quick motion.

  The voids continued forward for a brief, deadly fraction of a second.

  Wedge's lasers slammed in behind them, punching through the pilot's canopy,

  punching through the pilot.

  Wedge's X-wing shook as plasma, not completely deflected by his shields,

  seared through his starboard lower S-foil. His diagnostics lit up with their

  report. Structural damage, but no interruption of engine power. The S-foil might

  collapse if flown into atmosphere, especially in firing position, but should

  hold up to all but the most rigorous of maneuvers in space.

  The last healthy coralskipper and its two injured wing-mates were on his

  tail, pouring plasma after him; he heard impact after impact as the superheated

  projectiles hit his rear shields, watched the alarming drop of his shield power.

  His sensor board beeped, alerting him to an object in his path, on

  collision course, less than a second away. He began to twitch the X-wing yoke,

  to sideslip him around the obstacle, but instead switched weapons controls back

  to proton torpedo and fired on it. Only then did he shove the yoke down.

  He saw the brilliant flash of the torpedo detonating above him, felt his X-

  wing rock as the shock wave from the explosion hammered him, but he switched

  back to lasers and hauled back on the yoke even as he was being battered. He was

  through the detonation zone in an instant-and there, meters above him, was the

  last healthy skip, its pilot still recovering from the unexpected detonation.

  Wedge fired and saw his lasers tear into the skip's underbelly.

  There was another explosion, this one far less severe, as the skip vented

  gases through the crater Wedge's lasers punched in the yorik coral. The skip

  suddenly ceased maneuvering.

  A shrill alarm had been wailing in Wedge's ear since the explosion. Finally

  he could spare an instant's attention to his diagnostics board.

  He cursed. His shields were down. Whether they had failed from the proton

  torpedo explosion or been stripped as a last act of the coralskipper's voids, he

  did not know, but he suspected the latter; it would explain why his last shot

  against the skip's underbelly was not blocked.

  Without shields, he was nearly as good as dead. He spared a glance for the

  two injured skips. They would be closing on him now, predators coming after

  injured.prey.

  Instead, they were moving away at high speed.

  Wedge laughed. Seeing the last intact skip of the squadron destroyed had

  caused their nerve to fail; they probably hadn't even detected that he had lost

  his shields. He wondered what they thought he was-another supposed godly

  manifestation, like jaina?

  Then he stopped laughing. His sensors showed the coralskipper squadron from

  planetside had left the atmosphere and was racing up in the wake of Ammuud

  Swooper. They might intercept her before she rea
ched a point from which she

  could launch into hyperspace.

  Unless he maneuvered himself in the way. Unless he persuaded a second

  squadron to duel with him.

  But if he did that, his X-wing shieldless and damaged, he would die. He

  would die alone, and he would die anonymous, flying another pilot's X-wing with

  no record left behind of his having been here. lella and his children would

  never know what had become of him.

  He swung around on an intercept course and hit his thrusters.

  Turning his back on the Ammuud Swooper, leaving her to be destroyed by the

  Yuuzhan Vong when she was so close to escape, would not allow him to live. It

  would just give him time to tidy up his affairs before guilt-the crushing weight

  of responsibility abandoned-caused him to find some other way to die.

  Coming in at an oblique angle to the new coralskippers' course, Wedge fired

  at maximum possible distance. On his sensor board, he saw no indication that his

  lascrfire had done any damage.

  But after a moment the squadron of skips vectored, angling toward him.

  He could have cheered. They, too, wanted a challenging kill rather than

  some defenseless freighter. Had their decision not guaranteed his death, he

  would have cheered.

  Wedge kept up his fire, jerking his X-wing back and forth in a bone-jarring

  evasive pattern, seeing plasma fire streak above, to port, to starboard. His

  sustained lasers fired straight down the voids of the foremost skip, only

  occasionally drifting far and fast enough to one side to hit yorik coral.

  He felt a tremendous impact and the starfield was suddenly rotating outside

  his canopy. The X-wing no longer responded to his control of the yoke. Systems

  failure alarms shrilled in his ears, and he knew he was dead.

  Eldo Davip locked down the auxiliary bridge controls, then slapped the

  button for the new door at the chamber's rear. It slid open instantly,

  undamaged, revealing the Y-wing beyond.

  A Y-wing. He shook his head as he ran to the cockpit and clambered within.

  The starfighter was as old as he was, if not older; he suspected it was one of

  the assembly of "spare parts" vehicles that had been used to fabricate the pipe