The streams of laser energy from Starlancers One, Two, and Three converged on Starlancer Prime, the pipefighter with the three extrusions arrayed in equal angles. Each stream entered one of the pipe openings.
Starlancer Prime’s last extrusion, the one aimed at the Coruscant system, fired, channeling its constant, meter-thick beam of laser light toward the former home of the New Republic government several light-years away.
Jag had made a clean solo kill against one of the starboard skips. That left two damaged, one unhurt, of the six that had come against them. Jaina’s sensor board showed that one of her pilots, Twin Suns Ten, was drifting powerless, but Eleven had reported that Ten was still alive.
Then there was something else on her long-range sensors, two large red blips arriving from the opposite directions at high speed, just now slowing as they reached the vicinity of the target zone. They were the right size for Yuuzhan Vong corvette analogs, and as Jaina watched, the blips fired off many more, smaller blips—signs of a coralskipper launch. “The second wave is here,” she told her squad. “Rogues, Blackmoons, Wild Knights, watch out for reinforcements at your end.”
She received three sets of acknowledgments but barely registered them as her wing trio scored quick kills on the undamaged coralskipper and one of the damaged ones. The last Yuuzhan Vong pilot from the original six turned away, toward one of the oncoming flood of coralskipper reinforcements.
Jaina let him go. Other survivors of the two first Yuuzhan Vong squadrons were also scattering back toward their reinforcements. None of them appeared to be pursuing the rapidly retreating Starlancer vehicle or the drifting Twin Suns Ten. Jaina called for her squad to muster in the few seconds available to them. “Rogues, have they sprung the same trap at your end?”
“Negative, Twins Leader.”
“Wild Knights just have the original squads, though resistance is stiffening.”
“Same with Blackmoon, Twins.”
“These are interdictors, Leader.” That was Piggy’s voice. “They’re not here for the Starlancers. They’re here for you.”
“Plot us a course out of here, Piggy. Away from the Starlancers’ escape vector.”
A bare second later, a projected course sprang up on Jaina’s nav computer. It didn’t lead through the area showing the most open space. Jaina wondered why Piggy had deliberately ignored that most logical option—and then realized that he’d probably done so because it was the most logical option, and one the Yuuzhan Vong had doubtless planned on her choosing. He had to have seen other things she’d missed for him to decide on this course.
Whatever his reasoning, she oriented along his escape vector and fired her thrusters at full acceleration. The rest of Twin Suns came up smoothly behind her. Ahead, Yuuzhan Vong coralskippers began to congregate on her escape route; behind, more skips turned in her wake, accelerating to catch up. Her sensor board suggested that the eleven Twin Suns pilots now faced five times as many skips.
A microjump away, a fraction of a light-year outside the Pyria system, Han and Leia listened to the holocomm traffic from their daughter’s battle zone. “I’m going back,” Han said.
Leia looked as ashen as Han felt. Slowly, she shook her head. “We can’t help her.”
“The hell we can’t. I can get her escape vector, and we can drill a hole in from the other side before the Vong know we’re coming—”
“Fine. What do you want me to tell our passengers, the children?”
Han gave an inarticulate growl. He sat with muscles locked, listening to find out what would become of his daughter.
“We screwed up,” Wedge said. As usual during missions of any importance, he stood in the control chamber beside the hologram displaying the mission zone.
Tycho nodded, looking glum. He didn’t elaborate on Wedge’s words.
He didn’t need to. The two of them had had the mission and the Yuuzhan Vong response plotted out in great detail. The Yuuzhan Vong would, at some point, make an attempt to grab the Starlancer vehicles. The pilots of the pipefighters would be theoretically able to detach their cockpits, which had their own rudimentary thrusters, and escape, destroying the pipe assemblies with primitive mechanical self-destruct systems that were unlikely to be affected by enemy countermeasures, leaving behind just enough clues to give the Yuuzhan Vong a hint of what was going on.
But that whole approach assumed that the Starlancers would be the Yuuzhan Vong target. Instead, it appeared that Jaina Solo was the target.
And since only Jaina’s squadron had been attacked in this fashion, it meant that Yuuzhan Vong spotters on the ground or in Borleias orbit had identified her and correctly determined her course, suggesting that they were even more on the ball than Wedge and Tycho had guessed.
“How long before we can get anyone to her?” Wedge asked.
Tycho shrugged. “Two minutes to get the frigate Lunar Tide to the site. And that’ll just get Lunar Tide destroyed. Five minutes for the task force now leaving Borleias’s mass shadow.”
Wedge weighed the numbers, not forgetting that among them were numbers of the living crew of the vessels involved. How many lives was Jaina Solo worth? More important, how much harm would it do to them, to their plans, to demonstrate the New Republic habit, considered a weakness by the Yuuzhan Vong, to risk and probably doom a greater number of people to save a smaller number?
“Tell Lunar Tide to get into position to jump … but not jump until we give the order. They’ll wait for the task force unless we say otherwise.”
Tycho nodded and turned to his comm board.
With the discipline of decades, Wedge was able to conceal the way his decision tied his insides up in knots, and he prayed that he wouldn’t have to tell Han and Leia that he’d doomed their daughter.
* * *
“I can get the squad out of here,” Jag said.
“Care to share the information?” Jaina asked.
“It’ll take too long, Goddess. Care to trust me?”
Jaina weighed the question for part of a second and found that she did—if he said he knew how to get them out alive, then he did. “We’re your wing,” she said.
“You and Kyp, launch shadow bombs. Have them follow me at a distance of a few meters—as close as you can manage. You’ll know when to drop them. Hang back, let me lead you by a few kilometers.” Without waiting for further authorization or acknowledgment, Jag hit his thrusters and pulled out ahead of the Twin Suns formation.
Jaina felt slight confusion from Kyp, a sort of question mark. She offered up a mental shrug. She armed and launched one shadow bomb, then reached out to grab it with the Force and hurtle it along in Jag’s wake. She dimly detected Kyp’s similar efforts; his shadow bomb was well ahead of hers.
The foremost oncoming coralskippers were almost on Jag now, but he executed a starboard turn, as close to a right-angle turn as a TIE pilot could manage, and headed directly toward one of the Yuuzhan Vong interdictors, the one between their position and the safety of Borleias.
The oncoming coralskippers vectored to follow Jag. Jaina opened fire, spraying them with stuttering red laser bolts, and heeled over in Jag’s wake; she saw laserfire from her fellow pilots flashing into the cloud of skips, saw one of the Yuuzhan Vong craft detonate.
This was hard going. She had to fly, fire, and keep track of her shadow bomb in the Force—and the latter task was one of the more difficult, because Jag was jinking and juking as only a TIE or A-wing fighter pilot could, dodging incoming plasma cannon fire from the interdictor so nimbly and acrobatically that the chief danger to him was that he’d twitch into the path of a plasma projectile rather than having one seek and find him. Keeping the shadow bomb tucked in right behind him was proving an almost impossible task. Her bomb strayed to either side of Jag’s clawcraft with every sideslip he performed.
Then she felt Kyp reach to her through the Force. She could suddenly see his technique; she saw Jag’s living presence in the Force, and there were the two unliving things that were his shadow bombs, and Kyp had connected them as if encasing all three in a bubble so that whenever Jag moved, he himself drew the bomb along with him. Kyp was supplying the energy, but Jag, unknowing, was directing it. Jaina tried to do the same, tried to draw a connection between her bomb and Jag … and though, in that instant, she knew she hadn’t developed the degree of control Kyp had, she could tell that her shadow bomb was now shadowing Jag more effectively.
The coralskippers they’d been heading toward mere moments ago had now turned in their wake. Jaina put most of her discretionary X-wing energy into her rear shields and concentrated on flitting like a piranha-beetle, keeping the pursuing Yuuzhan Vong pilots from getting a good shot in at her. Her other pilots were doing the same.
Jag had increased his lead to several kilometers, and up ahead loomed the bulk of the Yuuzhan Vong interdictor. Its squadrons of coralskippers, which had dispersed to head off the Twin Suns’ escape were congregating again, but they’d been caught off guard by the run against the interdictor. Of course they had. From a logical point of view, it was the dumbest thing the New Republic pilots could have done.
Jag aimed straight in at the capital ship’s bow, the node where its dovin basals were concentrated—the dovin basals that dragged the ship through space, that projected the voids that drank incoming damage, that projected gravitic fluctuations into hyperspace to drag ships in transit back into realspace—and to keep nearby craft from making the jump into hyperspace. And finally Jaina knew and understood Jag’s plan.
His evasive maneuvers became tighter, faster, more random as he neared the interdictor and its full array of plasma cannons opened up on him. Jaina, through her tentative Force connection with Jag, could feel little spikes of alarm and adrenaline go through him, something she would never have guessed, given his calm demeanor in every situation.
“Coming up on drop point,” Jag said, his tone as indifferent as if he’d just ordered a meal he didn’t look forward to eating. “Three, two …” His clawcraft began spraying laserfire in a spiral pattern, the interdictor’s voids greedily sucking it all in. Jaina could see the voids concentrating there before Jag’s clawcraft, anticipating the spread of his attack.
Anticipating. He was so good at anticipating, predicting, that he could use the anticipation of his enemies as a weapon against them. Jaina shook her head.
“… one, drop.”
Jag’s clawcraft vectored again, another angle only a TIE craft could manage, but he continued to direct his laserfire against the flank of the interdictor. Its voids tracked, staying ahead of his lasers.
Jaina yanked her shadow bomb away from Jag, kept it almost on his original course, pulling it to port. Kyp maneuvered his up and to starboard. A void sprang up before Kyp’s.
But Jaina’s hit, detonating in a brilliant flash mere meters from the dovin basal node. She felt another jolt of alarm from Jag, but he did not disappear from her perceptions.
She looped around the dying interdictor, spraying fire at a pair of coralskippers approaching from ahead to port, and her laser attacks were joined by those of her squadmates. The two skips were reduced to superheated yorik coral rubble in a matter of moments … and suddenly there was nothing between her squad and Borleias but open space. Coralskippers were angling in from the sides, but none could manage an intercept course capable of catching her X-wings. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Then her breath left her. Her unit consisted of only ten blips. Twin Suns Three wasn’t back with them. She found Jag on the sensor board, back in the vicinity of the dying interdictor, at an angle that was carrying him back into the midst of the coralskippers.
“Twins Three, this is Leader. What are you doing?”
“Sorry, Leader.” Jag’s voice sounded pained. “I was grazed by a singularity effect. My shields are stripped and the yank put me off course. I’ll have to catch up to you later.”
That was just pilot bravado. Jag had nearly two squadrons of coralskippers converging on him from all directions. No available exit vector would let him use the clawfighter’s superior speed to just speed past opposition; he’d have to fight his way out, and without shields, he didn’t have a chance. His skills might let him last a few seconds, perhaps a minute. Then he would be dead.
Jaina wavered. Jag was one of her pilots. She couldn’t leave him behind. Couldn’t.
But Kyp was still in contact with her, still connected through the Force. She heard him across the comm unit: “No, Jaina. If you go back, you’ve just thrown away what he did for you. You can’t be captured.”
“I know,” she said. Her voice sounded weak to her. She watched as the closest of the coralskippers came within firing range of Jag. He resumed his evasive flying; the little blip representing him on the sensor board blurred as the sensors tried to keep up with his movements.
“Let’s go,” Kyp said. His voice was solemn, and she could feel that his regret was genuine.
“Yes,” she said. “Twin Suns, set course for Borleias, jump when ready. Let the planet’s mass drag you out of hyperspace.” She saw Twin Suns Eleven jump almost immediately; Tilath must have had the course already plotted.
Over the next few moments, the others jumped, all but her and Kyp, while on the sensor screen Jag’s blip became surrounded by an increasingly thick screen of red dots.
“I’m waiting for you,” Jaina said. She could barely hear her own voice. There seemed to be a haze over her eyes, a cloud of white noise in her ears.
“I’m waiting for you,” Kyp said.
“Together, then.” Jaina took a deep breath, watching the ever-tightening web of coralskippers around Jag. They were channeling him, leaving the screen lighter in one direction, and he was inexorably moving toward the other interdictor. “On three. One, two, three, jump.”
Neither X-wing jumped.
“Blast it, Kyp, go home.” Jaina yanked on her yoke, sending her X-wing in the tightest turn she could manage back toward the combat. Back toward the stream of coralskippers pursuing her. And she found, in that moment, that the haze over her eyes and white noise in her ears disappeared.
“Jaina, no.” Kyp stayed with her. “You can’t do this. You can’t save him. You can only kill yourself.”
“Shut up.” He wasn’t dead. Jag was still flying, he still had a trigger under his finger, he wouldn’t die. She would get there. She would save him.
The first of her pursuers began firing. They weren’t firing plasma cannons. Space around her was suddenly riddled with grutchins, the burrowing insects that could disable a craft. She twitched her yoke, allowing the Force to guide her evasive maneuvers, and switched discretionary power to her forward shields. So far, there were none of the distinctive ping noises of a grutchin hit.
“Jaina, this is Colonel Celchu. This transmission is scrambled and coming through your astromech. General Antilles is issuing a direct order. Do not reenter the combat zone. Return to base. Do you understand?”
Part of her did. Part of her knew that Wedge Antilles had concluded that Jag Fel was lost, and was not willing to exploit even the faint chance Jaina Solo offered to save his own nephew. That’s how bad it looked.
“Don’t tell me the odds,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. She flashed past the first squadron of pursuers. They looped wide to turn in her wake without getting in the way of the second squadron. Now grutchins were coming at her from two directions.
“I didn’t tell you the odds.” For once, Tycho sounded confused.
“Good.”
Kyp hung doggedly at Jaina’s side, firing as constantly as his lasers would recycle. Jaina wasn’t firing. Her mind was somewhere else, not even acknowledging the coralskippers as threats, only her reflexes keeping the grutchins off her. Kyp nailed one oncoming coralskipper, his lasers hitting the dovin basal and then shearing through into the skip’s main body. He checked his sensor board. Only forty-nine skips and one interdictor to go.
Then it was forty-eight. The number on the board dropped and one little light near Jag’s blip winked out. But Jag was now awfully close to that interdictor.
Then the answer came to Kyp. “Jaina, I can save him, but I need your help.”
He felt a flicker from her. “How? ” she asked.
“Aim straight in for the other interdictor’s bow. Go ahead and punch through the cloud around Jag to give him some relief. And protect me. I’m going to be too busy to shoot.”
“Kyp, the shadow bomb thing can’t work again. They’ll be looking for it.”
“That’s not what I’m going to do. Do you trust me?”
“Do it.”
They traded places then, Jaina suddenly opening up with her weapons, Kyp handing the task of flying evasively over to his reflexes while his mind went elsewhere.
Luke Skywalker had done this once, a couple of years ago. He’d mentioned it to the other Jedi. No one else had tried it because it had exhausted Luke to the point of collapse, and Jedi were seldom in a position to survive a technique that tired them so completely.
They were past the second wave of coralskippers now and heading toward the cloud surrounding Jag. Beyond it, not far now, was the second interdictor. Kyp knew that other skips had to be converging on him and Jaina. He didn’t bother to look at his sensor board. They weren’t relevant now.
And he didn’t think he’d be as terribly drained as Luke by the technique. He was stronger in the Force than Luke Skywalker.
He’d known that almost since they’d met—that he had more pure power than the legendary Jedi Master. But this was, perhaps, the first time he’d been able to say it to himself without a little thrill of pride. He was just stronger, and that was all. It usually didn’t matter. Now it did.
They reached the edge of the coralskipper cloud around Jag. Jaina and Kyp flashed by the skips that had turned against them, dodging their incoming fire, Jaina spraying return fire. Suddenly they were in the middle, with Jag’s clawcraft turning in their wake, and the interdictor was before them.
Absently, barely aiming, Kyp squeezed the trigger of his lasers. His red beams flashed out against the interdictor, and a void moved in position to intercept the beams.
Within the Force, within the broader range of senses it gave him, he tried to feel the presence of that void. He couldn’t feel the Yuuzhan Vong or their creatures, but he could feel distortions in space, hard little nuggets of wrongness where there should be nothing.
He felt many of them, but didn’t know which belonged to the interdictor, which to the coralskippers, and this rarefied sensory data didn’t precisely translate to exact directions and distances. A void that felt far away could be from a coralskipper close at hand.
He armed a proton torpedo and fired it. He felt its physical presence as, in a matter of seconds, it closed the distance between him and the interdictor … and was swallowed by another void.
He felt it enter the void, felt which of the many singularities it was.
And he seized upon that void, directing all his Force abilities and discipline against it.
It was like using a thin metal rod to push a grounded landspeeder. Too much pressure and it would bend, becoming useless. Too little and nothing would happen. He had to find the right pressure to budge it, to set it into motion and keep it going that way …
For a moment, the only things in the universe were him, Jaina, and the void. He moved the void, turned it around, moved it back the other direction.
Then he was himself again, in the cockpit, watching the flank of the interdictor distort. The void had moved back and touched the interdictor, and now the interdictor elongated into it, extending what looked like a pliant extrusion of what he knew to be hardened yorik coral into the singularity.
The portions of the interdictor in closest proximity to the void accelerated faster into its maw so that portions farther back tore, venting gases into space. But the incredible gravity of the singularity didn’t allow the remainder of the ship to tear away and be free. It dragged greater and greater portions of the interdictor into it, compressing them, rending them, and in a moment the interdictor was gone.
Kyp felt obliterated, bone-tired, as though he’d run for days, drawing on the Force to sustain him, and had finally settled down for rest. His diagnostics board was beeping at him and he spared it a glance. “I’ve taken damage,” he said. “A grutchin, I think.”
In fact, a portion of his cockpit, to starboard, was starting to blacken, with acrid smoke pouring off it. Idly, he pulled his lightsaber from his belt and oriented its head toward the blackened area.
A moment later, the metal parted and insectile eyes shoved their way into the cockpit. Kyp thumbed his lightsaber on and the energy blade plunged through the creature. Kyp turned it off again. Its noise was muted by the fact that almost all the atmosphere in the cockpit had disappeared through the hole in those few moments; Kyp’s flight suit activated, its energy shield technology holding atmosphere in around him, keeping pressure on his skin. “Grutchin problem solved,” he said.
“Sorry about that,” Jaina said. Her voice was muted.
Kyp glanced at his sensor board. He, Jaina, and Jag were outbound from the engagement zone. Maybe twenty coralskippers were in pursuit.
But there were now other friendlies on the board, a cloud tagged Rogue Squadron, a capital-ship-sized blip tagged Lunar Tide, approaching from the approximate direction of galactic spin. “Let’s go that direction,” Kyp suggested.
“We’ll do that, Kyp,” Jaina said. “Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it.”
Han sat, limp and gray, in his seat and forced himself to take deeper breaths.
Leia didn’t look any better than he felt. “We raised her that way, Han, whether we intended to or not.”
“I know.”
“So we can’t exactly criticize her.”
“Since when does logic interfere with my right to complain to her? Especially when she does something that stupid?”
“Han.”
“I’m twenty years older than I was this morning. Twenty years, Leia.”
“You’re starting to sound like Threepio.”
He scowled at her. “Am I really?”
“Just fly. The faster we get to the Maw, the faster we can return.”