[Legacy Of The Force] - 01(135)
Jacen shook his head. “How could I know? I don’t know anything about you.”
“Conceded. I haven’t been using my true name. It’s inconvenient.”
“So you’re saying that you didn’t lure us here to kill us.”
“Correct.”
“And it wasn’t because you’re lonely, or just wanted to show the place off.”
Brisha’s smile turned genuine again. “No.”
“Then why?”
“Because, down in the caverns, where the dark side power is greatest, there is a Sith Lord, and I didn’t think I should face him alone.”
CORELLIAN SPACE, ABOVE TRALUS
Leia sat in the officers’ mess with Admiral Limpan, steaming cups of caf on the gleaming white table between them. “The GA tends to fall into the old trap of thinking of the Corellians as naughty children,” she said. “They’re not. They’re people who have never lost the pioneering spirit, even though their system has been well settled for millennia. Pioneering spirit, pioneering contempt for authority, pioneering disdain for complication or overanalysis. Think of them as children and you inevitably forget how dangerous they can be.”
Limpan said, “That’s surprisingly candid for one who is married to a Corellian.”
“Han is one of the most dangerous people in the galaxy.” Leia did not look at all abashed by this admission. “And I’ve been proud for more than thirty years of the ways he uses his dangerousness-“
A shrill alarm cut off her words. Uniformed officers at the surrounding tables stood, as did Limpan and Leia. “Intrusion alert,” the admiral said. “I’m needed-“
“I’ll stay with you, if I may,” Leia said.
The bridge was only a few dozen meters away, and when Limpan and Leia charged through the blast doors onto the elevated walkway, it was buzzing with activity. Officers shouted reports to one another, and a hologram of nearby space hung above the walkway. It showed the curved orbital line of distantly spaced Galactic Alliance ships and a formation of incoming craft in three groups, the fuzziness and blob-like nature of the formation informing Leia that its exact composition had not yet been determined by the sensors.
“All vessels and ground control, go to battle stations, launch all ready squadrons,” Limpan shouted. “Scramble all squadrons. Recall all scouting vehicles that can arrive here before or within three minutes after the arrival of that formation. All other scouts, initiate fishnet scout patterns on a slow traverse back toward Tralus. Navigation, what’s their course?”
A male officer, also a Duros, in one of the pits below, called up, “Sixty-forty probability Rellidir or Blue Diver”
“Starfighter control, route one squadron in four down toward Rellidir, two in four toward Blue Diver, one in four remains with each launching ship.” The admiral’s head whipped around as she studied each station below the walkway.
“Admiral,” Leia said, “I have some experience with starfighter coordination, if I can be of any help …”
Limpan nodded absently. “Back through the blast doors we came in, immediate right-that is, to ship’s port-first door, tell Colonel Moyan to confirm your involvement with my aide. And thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Leia turned to rush back toward the bridge exit. Her words caught a little in her throat. The admiral had just thanked her for volunteering to commit what might end up being an act of treason-for if Leia could help Han survive the battle to come, she would do so, even if she had to act directly against the interests of the Galactic Alliance.
Syal cursed as her Twee cleared the exit doors of Blue Diver hangar and slowly began to accelerate. It still seemed so slow … She and her squadmates, five of them, lined up in a V-formation; her commander, who had been the pilot of the X-wing that bedeviled her during test runs, at point.
Gray One turned to lead the rest of the squadron down into the atmosphere. Syal checked her navigation board, saw that their destination was a point due south of the city of Rellidir. She nodded. The Corellians were coming to take their city back. She didn’t know whether, in her heart, to wish them luck or not.
Panther Flight-Han and Wedge-stayed well toward the rear of the Corellian formation.
Han chafed. It was wrong to be at the rear of any formation. When you were at the rear, spiteful enemy gunners concentrated their fire on you and you got your butt shot off. When you were at the rear, your placement marked you as a slow or indifferent pilot. Even the missile-launching craft were ahead of them; they had to be in place in the skies east of Rellidir before Han and Wedge made their approach.