There was the briefest delay, and then the bridge crew turned to its new tasks.
Galactic Voyager’s commander, a Quarren named Squinn, edged toward Niathal. His face-tentacles were motionless with forced calm, but a question burned in his eyes.
Niathal answered it. She had to speak more loudly as Voyager’s weapons batteries began firing. “If we hadn’t gotten Solo’s warning, Captain, what would have happened?”
“We would have advanced into the minefield.”
“Until?”
“Until our forward ships began hitting the mines.”
“And then?”
Understanding dawned in the Quarren’s expression. “We would have set a new course, a lateral course. Into more mines that have been maneuvered into place while we were waiting here.”
Niathal nodded. “Mines we couldn’t detect because of the thicker atmosphere around and below us. Mines that would continue to close on us. This way, we’re going to be hammered, but with the fewest number of hammers they currently have to swing against us.”
“Understood.” Captain Squirm edged away again.
It’s a trap,” Leia said. Though Jacen’s Force-based warning had not been intended for her, she could not have missed it-not a panicky emotion from her own son.
She leaned forward in the copilot’s seat of the Falcon, hut the only thing visible from the Gilatter system was its yellow star, straight ahead, distant and tiny. “Han, did you hear me?”
“I did.” Han’s face was, for once, a mask of indecision.
“We have to go in and get him,” she said. The words hurt. Her anger at Jacen’s actions had not abated. She didn’t trust him.
But he was her son. She had to save him.
“We’re waiting for news about Alema,” Han said. But there was pain in his voice, too. His protest sounded weak.
“Go, Han.”
“Yeah.” He hit the thrusters. The Falcon was already oriented straight toward Gilatter VIII. All they had to do was engage the hyperdrive.
Lando rose from the navigator’s seat behind them. “Not that I’m part of this conversation, but I suspect I should operate one of the laser turrets. Right?” Receiving no answer, he sighed and headed back to the turret access tubes, his cloak swirling behind him.
Turr Phennir hologram had appeared so close to Alema that she was, initially, partly within his right leg. She edged away, disappearing into the crowd.
Getting to this meeting had been easier for her than for any other infiltrator, she thought. After all, memories of her presence faded from the minds of those she encountered mere minutes after she departed. That, and her Jedi skills, made it child’s play for her to bypass guards, eavesdrop on conversations, and never stain the memories of those whose resources they used.
Unless she wanted them to remember, like Captain Lavint.
Now she hoped she would not be noticed as she made her way from the main hall. She didn’t think she would be. Jacen Solo was doing too good a job of attracting everyone’s attention.
He stood alone, a semicircle of security guards from several different forces blocking his path, and as she watched they opened fire. He leapt above the torrent of blaster shots, igniting his lightsaber as he rose, and came down behind his enemies. He spun, and two of them were suddenly headless. The rest fell back from him, firing as they turned.
All Alema had to do was flee from this disaster, join the throngs of actors now moving in panicky retreat toward the shuttle access chambers
Then she felt her quarry. Leia was nearby, sending reassurance through the Force.
To Jacen. It had to be to Jacen. That message certainly wasn’t meant for her.
But now she couldn’t leave. She had to wait to see if Han was with Leia.
Veering from her escape path, she made her way to a wall and merged with the shadows there.
ZIOST
Hirrtu, the Rodian, jabbered at Dyur aboard the Boneyard Rendezvous, this time clearly surprised.
“Launch condition?” Dyur brought up the sensor display.
It showed an incoming spacecraft, its point of origin just a few hundred meters from where the Chev, Ovvit, had died. “He found a way off,” he said. “Smart kid. By the way … battle stations.”
Everything was so alien. Through the vehicle’s skin, Ben could see the ground and stars-he could even recognize some of the stars.
And he could see a blocky, awkward-looking freighter change its orbit to approach the point toward which he was rising.
His heart sank. He couldn’t possibly win an engagement in a vehicle he barely knew how to fly, one with either no weapons systems or systems older than most modern planetary governments.
“What are my weapons?” he asked.