Suddenly gasping for air, he raced back toward his office, toward the access to the corridor there.
ABOARD THE MILLENNIUM FALCON
Jag saw the button light up on the comm board. Instantly he banked the Falcon toward the Anakin Solo, which was at the heart of renewed conflict, its screen of capital ships now beset by Commenori frigates and cruisers.
In the seat behind him, C-3PO made sliding noises as his restraints failed to keep him in place. “I say, sir, I might suggest a more gradual approach.”
Jag nodded. “Good idea. I’ll pass it along to Han.”
“Why, thank you, sir. Though he’s always been reluctant to implement my suggestions.”
Kyle Katarn unstrapped himself from the copilot’s seat. Not inconvenienced by the Falcon’s side-to-side maneuvers, he stood easily. “I’ll be ready at the docking ring.”
Jag nodded absently. “Watch out for lightsabers.”
“Watch out for durasteel rails.” Kyle left.
Ignoring further protests from the protocol droid, Jag angled in toward the Star Destroyer, picking a route that would bring him near the smallest number of starfighter conflicts or capital ship laser battery exchanges. He knew his target zone by diagram and by sight-an air lock on the forward port side, not far from Jacen Solo’s private hangar.
Now all he had to do was navigate through a bewildering field of turbolaser and ion cannon beams to get there alive.
Syal heard the two-tone musical signal over her comm board, followed by her father’s words: “Extraction has begun. All free Rakehells, maneuver to the Anakin Solo’s port side, amidships to bow, and draw off its fire.”
Most of the Rakehells were free. When the Commenori task force had jumped into the conflict, the Rogues and other Alliance starfighter units had largely lost interest in the mystery squadron that seemed to want to fight but had no other evident objective; they broke off and attacked the Commenori capital ships, leaving the Rakehells unencumbered.
Wedge led the remaining starfighters of his squadron into the proximity of the Anakin Solo, skirting just within its firing range, drawing turbolaser fire, responding with quad-linked lasers and the occasional proton torpedo aimed at weapons batteries. Mostly they distracted the Star Destroyer’s gunners and worked to keep themselves alive.
In the midst of all this, the Millennium Falcon flashed by, weaving through a reduced screen of incoming fire, and managed to arrive just above the Destroyer’s hull, too close for its guns to target.
“That boy can fly, “Syal admitted. There was a trace of pride in Wedge’s reply. “Yes, he can. He should have kept his mother’s family name. It’d be good to have another Jagged Antilles in the galaxy.”
“Stop being smug, Leader.”
“Yes, Four.”
Allana in Leia’s arms, the rescue party skidded around a corner. Han slowed, leaning back around the corner, firing with his blaster pistol, keeping the pursuers pinned down.
Iella reached the air lock hatch first-or would have, if R2-D2 hadn’t already been there. As she approached, the droid tweetled at her and the hatch slid open.
Beyond, the far hatch opened simultaneously, revealing the starboard docking ring of the Falcon, Master Katarn waiting there. lella didn’t even have to slow her running pace.
Leia swept aboard. “Master Katarn. Good to see you.”
He bowed. “Two-Injured-Men-and-a-Droid Shuttle Service, as requested.”
The sound of Han’s blasterfire picked up; then his weapon fell silent. Leia’s heart seemed to skip a beat until she realized there were more distant weapon sounds now-lightsabers.
R2-D2 rolled aboard, offering Kyle a musical note of greeting, and Han was mere steps behind. “Luke, Ben, and Saba are coming fast.”
Leia nodded and carried Allana into the crew quarters, setting her down on one of the bunks. “You need to strap in, sweetie. We may need to do some violent maneuvers.”
Allana’s bright eyes made a plea of her next question: “Can I be in the cockpit instead?”
“Not this time. But soon.”
With the Force lending him speed, Caedus hurtled down the side passage, his leaps carrying him over the bodies-some injured and moaning, some dead-of ship’s security personnel and, here and there, their severed arms.
Far ahead, just past a group of at least a dozen injured personnel, he saw Luke turn rightward at a cross-corridor. But by the time Caedus rounded that corridor, the air lock hatch at the far end was closed and he could see a gray-white hull speeding by.
Gasping for breath, he raised his comlink. “This is Solo. Do not fire on the Millennium Falcon. Anyone who fires on her dies. Use tractor beams only.”