The first barrage of turbolaser fire fanned down from the Hapan batteries, and Kr was suddenly veiled behind a curtain of crimson energy. The Chiss answered with a volley of missiles, and a thousand propellant trails rose to bar the way forward. Han pulled up short and rolled the Falcon away from the sudden fury.
“No!” Leia’s eyes were fixed on her display, where a navigation lock had been guiding them toward the detonation site of the Skywalkers’ proton torpedoes. “Luke and Mara need help.”
“And they won’t get it if we fly into that mess,” Han said. In fifty years of flying, he had never seen a battle this compact before. There had to be a hundred capital ships fighting over a moon only eighty kilometers long. “Even I’m not that good.”
“Yes, Han, you are.”
“Look, I’m not leaving,” Han said. “We just have to find another way in.”
Leia’s voice grew sober. “Han, I think they’re down.”
“Down?” A leaden ball formed in Han’s stomach. “What do you mean, down?”
“Crashed,” Leia said. “They may need-“
Han swung the Falcon around and started back toward Kr.
“-extraction,” Leia finished.
“How did that happen?” Han demanded. Space ahead had become a flashing sheet of turbolaser fire, striped at irregular intervals by growing lines of missile flame. “They’re Jedi, blast it! In StealthXs! They were just supposed to find the nest and call us.”
“Things go wrong even for Jedi.” Leia’s eyes were fixed out the viewport. “Threepio, break out the EV suits.”
“EV suits?” C-3PO squealed. “If we go EV out there, we’re doomed! The odds of surviving are… why, they’re entirely incalculable!”
“Still better than with no suit,” Han said. “Do as she says. We may need suits to recover Luke and Mara.”
‘As you wish, Captain Solo,” C-3PO said. “But I really don’t think we’re going to survive long enough to reach them.”
The sheet of flashing energy ahead brightened rapidly as the Falcon drew closer, and the canopy tinting darkened. Han looked to his instruments and found nothing but electromagnetic static, its density increasing as space ahead grew more brilliant.
“Sweetheart,” Han asked as casually as he could manage, “do you think you can do that Jedi thing-“
“Quiet.” Leia was already staring out the forward viewport with a faraway expression in her eyes. “I’m concentrating.”
Han waited for instructions. Leia continued to concentrate.
A web of tiny efflux trails-all that was visible of the Chiss and Hapan starfighters vying for control of the attack routes - began to lace the darkened canopy. Even that faded when the Falcon entered the battle zone.
A shudder ran through the decks as Meewalh opened up with the belly turret against some hazard Han could not see. Then the attack alarms shrieked as cannon fire pounded their lower shields.
“Who was that?” Han demanded over the intercom.
Meewalh informed him it was a starfighter, but she had no idea whose. All she had been able to see was a blurry tail of ion exhaust.
“Uh, sweetheart?”
“Concentrating!”
The invisible fist of a turbolaser blast glanced off the Falcon’s port side, instantly overwhelming the shields and sending her spinning out of control. The cockpit erupted with damage alarms, and Leia began to scream.
It took Han a moment to realize she was finally giving
him instructions. “Port! Go port!”
He steadied the Falcon-relieved to see that he still could - then swung hard to port.
“Threepio, give me a damage report.”
The
droid
dropped
an
EV
suit
on
the
deck. “We’velostourauxiliaryaccelerationcompensator!”
he
babbled. “Andourportdockingringiscompromised. We’llnevergetoutofthisinonepiece!”
“The damage is minor,” Saba said over the intercom. “This one will see to it.”
Han frowned. Saba still had a piece of skull missing under that thick hide of hers. She had talked Luke into bringing her along only by threatening to come anyway, but he knew better than to protest. It just wasn’t smart to question a Barabel’s ability to do anything.
Leia ordered, “Climb!”
Han pulled back on the yoke and felt the Falcon buck as something exploded under her.
“Dive!”
Han pushed the yoke forward and was nearly thrown out of his seat as a turbolaser blast blossomed just to their stern.
“Starboard, gentle.”
Han swung to starboard, and the red streak of a missile shot past the Falcon’s blackened canopy.