Yes, he could do anything. He was Boba Fett. He was what his father had made of him, and that was a survivor.
“Oya,” said Mirta.
“What’s that mean?” Fett asked.
Mirta checked her blaster. “Let’s go hunting.”
GALACTIC ALLIANCE SHIP OCEAN, ALLIANCE THIRD FLEET, CORELLIAN
EXCLUSION ZONE: DAY SIX OF THE BLOCKADE.
“Well, that’s going to make life interesting for Omas,” said the hologram of Admiral Niathal.
A line of vessels-some freighters, some individual warships, some starfighters, and some whose profiles didn’t match anything Jacen had ever seen-had formed up in line astern a Corellian cruiser, Bloodstripe, at 50 kilometers from the Alliance picket blockading Centerpoint Station. The ops room crew of Ocean watched the unmoving ranks of lights on the scanner; the commander of the Third Fleet, Admiral Makin-another Mon Cal with an unflinching approach to warfare-stood beside the hologram of Niathal with his arms folded.
“I make that one Bonadan Cutlass-class … a couple of Fondorian fighters … and that’s an Atzerri freighter,” said the weapons officer. “They’ve been on station for the past hour.”
Makin turned to face the image of Niathal. “May I have conformation of orders, ma’am?”
“Maintain the exclusion zone and deny access to all vessels,” said Niathal. “And if an Alliance vessel is fired upon or otherwise threatened, then you may engage.”
“Colonel Solo,” said Makin. “Put Rogue Squadron on alert five.”
“Awaiting your orders, sir.”
“Let’s see who blinks first this time.”
Jacen made his way to the hangar deck where a row of XJ7s stood with canopies open and ground technicians running preflight checks. Jaina and Zekk were leaning against a bulkhead talking in hushed voices, and Jacen chose not to use his Force-senses to listen.
Jaina greeted him with a hostile stare and a definite sense of pushing him away in the Force. “Good of you to drop in, Colonel Solo,” she said. His instant commission had really irked her. “Who’s minding the shop back at Secret Police HQ?”
Zekk greeted him with a nod. “Now, Jaina. We have a guest star. Be nice.”
Jacen chose not to take offense. “Mission brief, people.” It doesn’t matter. Pass beyond it. “Some other fleets have fronted up on behalf of Corellia, some of them civilian vessels. They’re lined up, daring us to take a crack at them.”
“We’ve been watching the scanner repeater.” Zekk nodded in the direction of the bulkhead, where a large holoscreen mirrored the tactical information from the ops room. “This is going to get tricky. One wrong move-“
“-and we suck in a lot more enemies.” Jaina completed Zekk’s sentence, a holdover from their time as Joiners. “Do we have orders to engage?”
Jacen could feel her mistrust and sorrow. It was a real weakness in a squadron if pilots had lost faith in their commander, but it wasn’t his military judgment she would question. It was his morality.
“Only if fired upon or placed under serious threat.”
“I’m glad we’re clear,” said Jaina. She picked up her helmet from the bench, lowered it into place, and fastened the chin strap. “Are we just going to buzz them, or try to drive them back?”
“Right now none of them are in the exclusion zone. If that changes, we turn them back.”
“I love a standoff,” said Zekk. “Are they letting supplies through to the shipyard orbiters yet?”
“No. Total exclusion zone means total exclusion zone.”
“Even in Corellian space.”
“Not our problem, Zekk. The legality of that is for the Senate to argue later. Okay, time to turn and burn.”
Three XJ7s didn’t constitute a major confrontation, but Jacen was clear how far he would allow things to proceed. This was another game that could easily escalate. The three starfighters came up well under the line of assorted vessels and looped around to take up positions between them and the Alliance picket ships ringing Centerpoint on the outer side. Moving to intercept across that huge curve of alloy and durasteel meant a fast dash, but that was what XJ7s were made for.
Jacen watched his cockpit console display for movement. He reached out carefully in the Force to test Jaina’s state of mind: She was, as ever, focused on the job at hand, but a persistent ripple of hostility-there was no other word for it-tinted the slow eddies.
He felt a strong shove back against him in his mind.
Get out of my head. He could grasp the meaning as clearly as if she could share words with him. Back off. Jacen wondered if Zekk could sense this, too. He didn’t attempt to test Zekk’s feelings, but he shared an emotion with both of them instead: he sent calm.