[Han Solo] - 03(113)

The Sullustan checked his instruments. “Tighten formation,” he ordered.

“All ships, tighten formation.”

He saw the running lights of his starboard wingman for a moment, then the clouds blotted them out. They were being slammed by gusts, and the clouds were so thick that Nebl didn’t even bother to glance at his viewscreen.

Instruments-only flying. Rain and hail and electrical storms raged nearby, lighting the inky clouds in actinic flashes. Nebl followed the progress of his formation on his tactical sensors.

It had been ten years since Nebl had flown through the Ylesian atmosphere, but he was surprised how it all came back to him. He was leading half the Rebel ships assigned to Colony One in, and Han Solo was leading the other half in the Millennium Falcon. Han had taken his Sullustan friend for a brief tour of his ship yesterday, and the two pilots had caught up on old times while Nebl enjoyed watching Han show off his pride and joy.

Nebl spotted another storm cell, pointed it out to his formation, and then sent his ship swooping down, automatically checking his landing vector.

His assigned landing spot was directly in the middle of the Colony One compound. He was carrying a squad of troops, and their assignment was to secure the andris factory.

As he flew, Nebl could hear the Assault Commander aboard the transport Liberator, reporting on the fleet’s progress. The Rebel forces had taken the Ylesian space station, having met heavier resistance than expected, but they were now reporting in that it was secured.

Nebl stayed in close touch as he led his formation down, down. He was tracking the storm cells so the more inexperienced pilots wouldn’t have to. In theory at least, if they followed Nebl’s lead, they’d be able to concentrate on their piloting as opposed to their navigation.

They were almost down below the heaviest cloud layer now. Colony One was still in darkness, though dawn would arrive in about an hour. Nebl noticed that his rightmost shuttle was falling behind, and quickly established contact.

“Assault Shuttle Six, you’re falling behind. What’s happening?”

“Having trouble with a stabilizer,” the young pilot’s voice was strained.

“I’ve got my copilot working on it.”

“Formation, reduce speed. We don’t want to lose Shuttle Six,” Nebl ordered.

Obediently, they reduced speed. The next voice Nebl heard over the comm was Han Solo’s. “Hey, Nebl, what gives? You’re slowing.”

The Sullustan explained the problem. “Well, I don’t want to go in ahead of you, so I’ll drop back, too,” Han said. The Falcon and her ships slowed, falling back, leaving Nebl, as planned, still in the lead.

Both groups were still in good formation when they dropped below the cloud cover, and saw the nighttime lights of Colony One. Nebl was in the lead, and he’d re-positioned Shuttle SIX so it was now beside him, so he could nursemaid the Rebel pilot down. Nebl’s other ships were flying half a ship’s length behind the Dream and SIX as they swooped toward their assigned landing coordinates.

Nebl had almost no warning. One second he was heading for his landing coordinates, everything fine, and the next his sensors suddenly blatted out a warning. Glancing down, Jalus Nebl saw that he’d been targeted—by a heavy turbolaser!

What? he thought blankly. Where… The explosion was so massive, so all-consuming, that poor Nebl never even had time to realize he’d been hit.

Han Solo watched with horror as Dream of Freedom and Assault Shuttle Six were simply eradicated by two blasts from a groundmounted heavy turbolaser. The turbolaser blasted again, and two other shuttles performed frantic evasive maneuvers that caused them to run straight into a treacherous wind-shear. Their stubby wings impacted, and then, flaming, they hurtled down toward the jungle. Fireballs painted the darkness with crimson, marking the crash sites.

Han was frozen with shock for a half-second. A turbolaser! Where’d that come from? Then he checked his position, and those of the ships in formation with him, and began his own evasive. At the same time he activated his comm, shouting, “Formations One and Two—veer off! Bria, order your ships to their alternate landing sites! Veer off! They got a heavy turbolaser down there! Nebl bought it!”

Without waiting for a response, Han swooped the Falcon up on her side and changed his approach vector—and not a moment too soon. A wash of fatal green energy streaked toward his ship, narrowly missing her belly. Han saw a damage control warning light up on his board, and realized the shot had knocked out the extension and retraction controls on his new retractable blaster. The close brush had also managed to fry the terrain-following sensors. He swore, even as Chewie howled.