Limpan looked up, toward the high speakers, as though
Moyan were up there. “Who are they?”
“They’re Bothan Assault Cruisers, Admiral.”
No expression crossed her face, but Limpan felt a twinge of sympathy for Moyan. He was Bothan.
“All right,” she called. “Navigation, plot a course for Centerpoint Station. Order our forces already there to hit t lie station as hard as they can. Denying it to the Corellians in our top priority. Dodonna will join in that action.” I f we’re still functional when we get there, she added silently. And assuming we are, we can get a sense o f whether we need to stay there and keep pounding, or run with our tails between our legs. “Where’s the Anakin Solo?” That Star Destroyer, assigned to Jacen Solo and the Galactic Alliance Guard, didn’t answer to her, and she didn’t always know its location or current task.
Her sensor operator called out, “It was at its usual station, just outside the Soronia orbit, on the direct approach from Coruscant. Now its coming in.”
“Ask it to join us at Centerpoint.” Limpan could feel the subtle changes in the ship’s artificial gravity, and see through the viewports at the bow, as Dodonna slowly wheeled away from her orbit and oriented herself away from the planet’s surface. “How many starfighter squadrons do we have onstation?”
“Three, Admiral.”
Limpan shook her head, rueful. They were going to take :I pounding. In fact, a mere pounding was the best they could hope for.
As if reading her thoughts, one of the junior officers said, her tone just loud enough to reach Limpan’s ears, “We’re horked.”
“Enemy starfighters now reaching our maximum firing range,” Moyan said.
“Open fire,” Limpan said. “The order is fire at will.”
ERRANT VENTURE
Wedge and Corran angled into the Flag Hangar, each skidding as he made the hard turn from the corridor. Their astromechs had done a preliminary powerup, and the canopies of both snubfighters were already open. Wedge was first to his vehicle, but Corran, rather than climbing the ladder hanging from his cockpit, leapt lightly into his pilot’s couch. Wedge swore at the Jedi under his breath and climbed his ladder. “What’ve we got, sweetie?”
Iella’s voice crackled back across his comlink. “Unknown forces hitting every major position held by the Second Fleet in the system. Wait, not unknown. The Centerpoint Station task force is reporting Commenorian markings on the assault forces. The Tralus and Corellian blockade forces are reporting Bothan markings. We have a small force, one frigate and one squadron of starfighters, headed our way. And the Dodonna has ordered Errant Venture not to enter hyperspace until every spaceworthy fighting vehicle aboard has launched.”
Wedge swung nimbly into his cockpit. Dodonna’s order meant Booster would have to play a game of careful calculations. If he did jump before the military personnel aboard had all launched, he risked certain punishment from the Galactic Alliance-crushing financial penalties that could bankrupt him. If he didn’t, and the forces headed this way were too strong, he risked losing the Venture-and his own life, and the lives of thousands of employees and guests as the underarmed Star Destroyer was vaped.
Wedge yanked the ladder free of his fuselage and dropped it to the hangar floor. He slid down into the couch, clamped his helmet on, closed the canopy.
Corran’s voice came across his helmet speakers. “Silly operational question. What’s our squadron designation?”
Wedge snorted. They ought to have one for purposes of coordination and efficiency, but the question seemed just slightly ridiculous under the circumstances. “Ganner. I’m Ganner One, you’re Ganner Two.” He checked his status display. “Four lit, four green. Open hangar doors.”
“Say please,” Iella said. “Just kidding.”
The Flag Hangar’s lights dimmed, and the outer doors slid aside. Wedge activated his repulsors, sending his X-wing into a wobbly two-meter climb, then hit his thrusters and punched out through the opening before the doors were completely withdrawn.
It was an awkward launch, and thrust wash would have scorched the hangar bulkhead behind the X-wing. Such a launch would have earned him a reprimand back when he was still flying for the Rebel Alliance or the New Republic. I here he didn’t care-he needed to be outside, where the act ion was.
He and Corran circled to run the length of Errant Venture, heading toward the stern. They could see starfighters and other vehicles dropping out of the ship’s belly bays like explosives dropping from a bomber. The starfighters ignited thrusters, turned toward the world of Corellia, and blasted in that direction. The more distant ones were already leaping forward and vanishing, the visual effect to outsiders of their entering hyperspace.