He switched the navigator’s display to tactical. None of the vessels in the usurpers’ fleet was broadcasting a transponder code, but the Falcon’s threat computer had used a combination of mass and energy bleed-off patterns to classify the contacts as Battle Dragons. The three egg-shaped vessels at the head of the fleet-the Corellian Dreadnaughts-it had designated UNKNOWN, assigning them an estimated threat level approximately twice that of Imperial-class Star Destroyers.
The Dreadnaughts were surrounded by a screen of light frigates configured for fighter defense, and the Battle Dragons had a number of Nova battle cruisers interspersed among them. After a moment of study, Han noticed that the Battle Dragons were grouped in clusters with nearly identical masses and energy bleed-off signatures. It only made sense; the noble houses would be operating as sub-units within the larger formation, and their vessels would tend to have standard configurations.
Han stored a screen shot of the tactical display-then noticed that one of the Nova cruisers had dropped out of formation and was turning to intercept them.
“Anyone in that fleet know we’re coming?” he asked. “They’re sending out a welcoming party.”
“Ducha AlGray won’t be expecting me to arrive in…” Morwan paused to glance around the flight deck. “… a common freighter,” she finished.
“Then maybe we’d better turn this freighter around,” Han said, bristling at the disdain in her voice, “Because they’re not going to look in the windows before they open fire.”
“That won’t be necessary, Captain Solo,” Morwan replied. “Open a ship-to-ship channel. I’m sure the Ducha will understand if I break comm silence to avoid being fired upon.”
“Yeah-I suppose so,” Han said, reasoning that a comm wave was a lot less noticeable than a turbolaser volley. “Go ahead, Threepio.”
C-3PO opened the channel. “Just activate your microphone, Lady Morwan.n
Morwan checked the comm status panel-no doubt to make sure the channel was on a tight beam-then activated her microphone. “Heritage Fleet Nova. This is Lalu Morwan, a true guardian of Hapan independence, arriving aboard alternate transport…” She glanced down to see what transponder code the Falcon was using. “Longshot. Request clearance to join formation and rendezvous with the Kendall.”
“Longshot acknowledged as our fellow guardian,” came the cruiser’s reply. “Continue approach, stand by for instructions.”
Han studied Morwan with a raised brow.
“Don’t say it,” Morwan warned. “I’ve heard all the lulu’ jokes I care to.”
“Han dated a lot of lulus before he met me,” Leia said, anally returning from wherever her attention had been. “I chink he’s just surprised you gave us your real name eariier.”
Morwan shrugged. “I didn’t have much choice-Aurra Sing found me, remember?”
“Pardon me,” O3PO said. “But we’re being hailed by che Kendall. Shall I put it on?”
“Of course!” Morwan replied.
C-3PO tapped a key, and a crisp, middle-aged voice came over the cockpit speakers. “You’re late!”
“I apologize,” Morwan replied. “It’s Lalu, your fellow guardian.”
“Yes, yes, we’re both true guardians of Hapan independence,” AlGray said, clearly irritated at having to use the recognition phrase. “Now tell me why you’re late-and why you’re arriving in that wreck.”
Han scowled and would have objected, except that he was busy with his tactical display, attaching the designator KENDALL to the Battle Dragon from which the comm signal was coming.
“Actually, this is the Millennium Falcon,” Morwan explained. “I was forced to turn my yacht over to … our agent, and Princess Leia was kind enough to offer me a ride.”
AlGray paused before answering. Han stored another screen shot of his tactical display, this one detailing the Kendall’s location and designating her the flagship. He could almost hear AlGray wondering whether her plot had been exposed-but the sad truth was that so far, he and Leia had managed to warn Tenel Ka of precious little.
AlGray finally seemed to reach the same conclusion. “How did that come about?”
“It’s a long story, given our comm restrictions,” Mor-wan replied carefully. “Perhaps I could fill you in once I’m aboard?”
“You won’t be aboard,” AlGray replied. “The Heritage Fleet is preparing to make the attack-jump. Fall in at the back of the formation. You can explain after the battle.”
“After?” Morwan asked, clearly not happy about the prospect of riding out a major space battle aboard the Falcon. “Ducha?”