But he was. The bay doors were standing open, and members of the junior form were hastily clearing away the droids and vehicles blocking the entrance, but the cockpit of the interceptor was still unoccupied.
breather from the
equipment lockers, he
clambered up on
the interceptor’s right-side wing brace and popped the access hatch release. “You! ” he shouted, pointing at the nearest student. “I need a power droid over here, now! “
By the time Mallar settled in the cockpit and started the power-up sequence, two other would-be pilots had arrived. With a cool and purposeful efficiency that would have done a carrier deck crew credit, they helped hasten the dull gray power droid into position beside the fighter.
The moment the power coupling clicked in the starting port, Mallar ran up the capacitors for both ion engines, then dropped them back to a neutral idle.
There was no point in completing the rest of the system checks. There was no time for repairs, and crashing was no more fearful a prospect than the next attack from beyond the clouds.
“That’s got it, ” Mallar called over the microphone. “Uncouple me, and then clear the bay-I’m flying her out. “
Ordinarily, the TIE would have been towed out of the bay and onto the landing pad on her skids by a tug droid. But that would take precious time, and Mallar was already afraid he was far too late. The moment the last of the other students fled out the bay doorway, he shoved the throttle forward.
The interceptor jerked forward as the engine back-blast lifted loose debris and rained it on the fighter’s combat-hardened solar panels.
Picking up speed rapidly, the ship began to lift just as it passed through the bay doorway, and the upper edge of the left panel dragged against the durasteel frame with a screech that shivered everyone in earshot, including Mallar.
Then, with a bump and a lurch, the ship cleared the bay, bursting out into the bright, diffuse light of a Polneye midday. Pointing the twin booms of the wing-mounted cannon skyward, Mallar threw the interceptor into a full-power climb.
The tiny black ships were still circling high in the air like carrion birds. Activating his targeting system, Mallar was heartened to see that three more of the settlement’s TIE interceptors were in the air. Selecting the nearest target and steering toward it, Mallar then did something no instructor had ever authorized-powered up the four Seinar laser cannon.
With an insistent beeping, the targeting system informed Mallar that it had identified the primary target as a TIE/rc reconnaissance fighter.
But to Mallar’s surprise, there was no safety interlock preventing him from firing on what the interceptor took to be a friendly target.
Moments after the target was identified, the attack computer locked on.
TARGET TARGET, said the cockpit display as the indicators changed from red to green.
He squeezed both triggers, and the ship quivered around him as the quad cannon spoke.
No one was more surprised than Mallar when the target stayed in his sights and then exploded in a yellow-white gout of flame. Whether it was the interceptor’s superior speed, Mallar’s crude headlong rush up from the surface, or simple surprise, the TIE/rc never responded to the approaching ship’s presence.
As he blew past the falling debris, Mallar heard voices over the interceptor’s combat comm, exulting.
But he himself felt neither joy nor relief. He was shaking and covered in clammy sweat, the reckless momentum dissipated, the awful reality sinking in.
The interceptor entered the clouds, and in the next moment Mallar was suddenly blinded by light pouring in through the viewports. The interceptor was shoved roughly sideways as though by a great hand, and shuddered violently in the aftermath. For a long moment he was certain his ship had been hit and he was about to die.
But the moment stretched out, and he did not die.
The afterimage of the flash began to fade from his eyes, and his ship, still climbing, emerged intact into the space between the clouds and the stars.
**** gently at him, and Mallar squinted, first to read the display, then to peer out the viewport. What he finally saw nearly overwhelmed him with fear. Riding above him in orbit was the largest ship he had ever seen, a great triangular shape bristling with gun ports and launching fighters from bays on either side.
“Identify. “
PRIMARY TARGET VICTORY-CLASS STAR DESTROYER, the computer informed him.
And he was still climbing toward it.
SECONDARY TARGETS “I don’t want to know, ” Mallar said nervously.
Hauling the interceptor over on its back, he dove away from the starship at a flat angle and all possible speed, seeking the cover of the clouds.
The weapons master of theDevotionlay cowering on the bridge catwalk.
The ship’s primate, whose backhand blow had sent the master sprawling, loomed over him.