[Legacy Of The Force] - 04(36)

A CorSec officer with an oversized comlink held up before his face entered with his men. His words came across Love Commander’s comm board and, magnified, could even be heard through the yacht’s hull: “This is Corellian Security. Power down and exit your craft immediately for identification.”

“Leia, stall them,” Lando ordered. “We can get our shields online in just over a minute…”

Leia shook her head. “No, they’re serious. They’ll open fire before then. We can surrender now and escape while we’re being transported …”

Han’s lip had twitched when the word surrender was uttered, and now he shook his head. “Princess, we…”

There was an engine roar from outside. All the CorSec agents still outside looked to their right. Some of them ran-into the hangar and toward Love Commander, or out of sight on the access way, anywhere that wasn’t toward the TIE crawler.

A flash of red light hit the crawler’s starboard treads low, almost at the level of the permacrete. The shot flipped the crawler and it rolled, coming down resting on one of its treads. A starfighter flashed by outside.

“That was an X-wing, wasn’t it?” Lando asked.

Leia nodded. “Wedge?”

Han shook his head. “Emerald green, with a checkerboard pattern.”

Leia smiled. “Corran!”

Then an X-wing in standard gray with red piping flashed by.

“Power?” Lando asked.

Leia checked her status board. “Coming online in three, two, one … now.”

“Shields up,” Lando ordered. “Get us out of here.”

Leia lifted Love Commander up on her repulsors and glided forward. CorSec agents scattered out of her way. At the door into the hangar, she delicately nudged the TIE crawler aside-“delicately” in the sense that neither vehicle was damaged by the impact, though Lando shuddered at the sound of metal shrieking and scraping as they passed, then turned in the wake of the two X-wings.

Immediately the sensor screens lit up and began chiming. Lando activated his display screen and got a night-sight image, all in shades of green, of the holocam view from the front of Love Commander; he saw little but a line of CorSec speeders parked on the access way.

“I read one vehicle, size suited to a personal yacht, emerging from a hangar behind us,” Han said. “Hey, I think it’s the Pulsar Skate.”

Lando switched his display over to a rear holocam view. Emerging from a hangar door only two buildings away was a long, low yacht, shaped something like a example of gliding undersea life from the aquatic world of Mon Calamari. Essentially a flying wing with twin thruster pods at the back, it had graceful lines that swept back organically from the bow.

Han continued, “We have one vertical takeoff from the port’s main launch area, I think it’s a ballistic transport, outbound. And-fierfek. Looks like a small vessel, corvette class at least, heading our way.”

“Go to battle stations,” Lando said, unnecessarily. The shields were already up, and he’d seen Han power up the yacht’s weapons without authorization a moment earlier.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Try to open a channel to our escorts.”

“Yes, Captain.” Han scowled at Lando then returned his attention to his boards.

Leia lifted Love Commander off in the wake of the X-wings. Lando felt himself being pressed back into his seat as the yacht’s inertial compensators failed to keep up completely with the demands of vehicular acceleration.

“Love Commander to X-wing escort, come in.”

“Love Commander, this is Pulsar Skate.” It was a female voice, and one Lando didn’t recognize. “Stand by to receive line-of-sight transmission of encryption code. Three, two, one, sending. Got it?”

“Got it,” Han said. “Implementing … now.”

There was a burst of static, then the woman’s voice returned. “Encryption activated. Can you still read me?”

“We hear you just fine,” Han said. “I’m going to switch you over to our captain. I’m going to have to shoot things pretty soon, and he doesn’t have anything to do.” He pressed a button.

The holocam view faded from Lando’s display and was replaced with the face of a girl-young, pretty, with blue hair highlighted by yellow streaks. She looked familiar. “Myri Antilles here,” she said. “Impromptu comm officer for Pulsar Skate.”

Suddenly Lando felt ten thousand years old. The last time he’d seen Myri, she’d been a little girl. He forced a smile. “Myri! It’s your uncle Lando.”

“Lando! Hey! The white hair and beard look really good on you. Are they real?”