“Seven’s right, Eight. Concentrate on her. Do as she does.”
Lysa perked up. That was one of the few completely unsarcastic, unambiguously positive things Leader had said about her in the few months she’d been with the squadron-and he was saying it to a pilot with a year’s worth of seniority on her.
Now she could see the oncoming attack fighters clearly in the light reflected from Corellia’s surface. They glided toward VibroSword Squadron on what looked like an atmospheric arrival vector-as slow and unconcerned as if there were no interceptor unit in their direct path.
She eyeballed their approach. If they didn’t vary their angle, they’d pass right through the center of the Eta-5 formation, coming closest to V-Swords Five and Six.
They did vary their angle. One wing pair of attack fighters adjusted, subtly, putting them on a direct intercept path with Five and Six. Another pair vectored slightly, putting them on a straight course toward the positions Seven and Eight would occupy in about ten seconds.
“Leader-“
“Shut up, Eight. Stay on Seven.”
“Clamp down on it, Eight,” Lysa said. She put her finger on the switch to activate her deflector shields. Minimal as they were compared with X-wing shields, they’d still provide some defense from an impact or an attack fighter’s laser.
Five and Six would contact their opposite numbers first, she calculated. They were only a few dozen meters apart now. Lysa could have looked straight up and seen her own attack fighter opposition gliding toward her, closing slowly and implacably, but she didn’t. She watched the sensor board, tracking Five and Six as well as her own opponent’s progress.
And then the green blip representing V-Sword Five and the red blip of Five’s opposite number merged for a moment.
“This is Five.” Behind the woman’s voice, Lysa could hear cockpit impact alarms ringing. “Impact.”
“Incoming,” Leader said.
Lysa snapped her shields on and kicked her maneuvering thrusters to point her nose down toward the planet’s surface. Then she fired her main thrusters, putting the full thrust of its twin ion engines into the underbelly of the attack fighter just three meters away. Her Eta-5 leapt away from that fighter and its wingmate, hurtling toward the planet’s atmosphere.
“Hey!” She saw Eight’s green blip belatedly follow. “Where the wobber-hey, I’m hit!”
“How bad?” Now at full thrust, Lysa began a slow loop up from the planet, a maneuver designed to bring her around to the far side of what had been the attack fighter formation. An attack fighter taking a straight line to intercept her could do so, but one following in her wake would be left behind by the faster Eta-5 interceptor.
“No damage, shield took it. He’s not pursuing.”
“So why mention it?”
“Yours is a kill.”
Lysa’s eyebrows rose. She’d expected her thruster blast to do some harm to the fighter, perhaps surprise the pilot and cause him to bank away reflexively, but it must have penetrated the cockpit.
She felt-she wasn’t sure how she felt.
Save up your feelings for later-. Save your feelings for home. Her father’s voice again, something he’d said to her fifty times over the years. She decided to listen to him.
Her loop completed, she looked down at the Eta-5/attack fighter engagement with both eye and sensor. Her comrades and their opponents were stretched out in a rough line a couple of kilometers long, wing pairs circling one another in a dogfight.
A line-she liked lines. She oriented toward one end of it and continued her full-power thruster burn. “Get ready to do some shooting, Eight.”
“I-yes. I’m your wing.”
Chapter Twelve
FIAV STEPPED UP TO ADMML KLAUSKIN. “SIR, THERE’S BEEN AN INCIDENT. One of our starfighter squadrons has rubbed up against one of theirs, and they’re fully engaged now. More squadrons from both sides are moving in to join the conflict.”
Klauskin nodded. “Good, good.”
“Sir, with all due respect, that’s not good. It’s not part of our operation goals.” The Sullustan lowered her voice. “It would be a big help to officer morale if you’d let them know what our revised goals are. Are we going to assault CEC-One? Because as soon as we get to it, its defenders are definitely going to assault us. Are we going to punch back out of system? Are we going to take on the Corellian fleet?”
Klauskin considered her questions. He realized he was curiously without emotion on these matters. But that, at least, would allow him to make decisions logically.
No, assaulting the shipyard designated CEC-One was not part of their operation. They wanted it intact for the day when Corellia was back in the GA camp and everyone was friendly again. But that meant they’d have to alter their current orbital course, so some other plan had to be implemented.