[Legacy Of The Force] - 07(95)

Delpin nodded, her jaw set. “If the Alliance seizes control of the station, Corellia is the system under the gun. We need more forces up there, now. More than we have. I need to talk to General Phennir.”

“No, let me. Believe it or not, I speak his language.”

She looked at him, dubious, but seemed convinced by his sudden confidence. She nodded.

At the next cross-corridor, she turned left, toward the situation room. Teppler continued on alone toward the Prime Minister’s communications chamber.



The Reveille raced toward the Anakin Solo, arcing to pass well clear of an engagement between a Corellian frigate and an Alliance starfighter squadron. Syal fumed. The Reveille was broadcasting its true registration, its correct password, both belonging to Tycho, the information having been sliced out of its computers by Syal’s own mother, who was now aboard the shuttle.

“Rakehell Leader. Begin firing.”

All around Syal, the other Rakehell pilots opened up on the shuttle-or rather, began firing in its general vicinity. Shots from their lasers passed all around the shuttle, and one-as beautifully placed as any kill, fired by her father-glanced off the top shields, not endangering the shuttle in the least.

A turbolaser blast, bright columns of light in parallel streams, flashed toward them from the capital ship. At this range, the Anakin Solo’s gunners were only likely to hit by accident, but accidents did happen. Suddenly all the Rakehells were on the defense, their approaches as erratic as the flight of piranha-beetles in mating season.

“Rakehell Leader to squadron. Break by wing pairs whenever you feel like it-or when I say break. We’ll form up off the Anakin Solo’s bow, outside the range of its main guns.”

Syal heard acknowledgments from the other pilots and added her own.

Then her comlink-her personal comlink, clipped to her tunic under her flight suit-came to life. “Captain Antilles.” It was Tycho’s voice.

“Yes, General.”

“Break when the others do. Do not, I say again, do not stay with me. I’m going to make my run from here.”

“But, sir…”

“That was an order. Acknowledge it.”

“Acknowledged, sir.” A chill settled in Syal’s stomach as a notion of what Tycho planned to do occurred to her.



ABOARD THE ANAKIN SOLO

A beep, indicating a high-priority query, sounded from Lieutenant Tebut’s terminal. She switched from the screen of scrolling security data to the query. The face of one of the Anakin Solo’s communications officers, a Rodian, came up on-screen. “Lieutenant…”

“Yes, Ensign.”

“We have an emergency transmission from the shuttle

Reveille, inbound, carrying General Celchu. They’re being pursued by enemy fighters and request immediate access to our hangar bay.”

“Do they check out?”

“All codes and passwords are correct.”

“Grant it.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” The screen cleared, and Tebut switched back to her data.



Incoming fire from the Anakin Solo increased as the Rakehells neared the capital ship. The Anakin Solo’s gunners were good-laser and ion shots missed the Reveille by mere hundreds of meters but came increasingly close to the pursuing X-wings.

Pair by pair, the Rakehells peeled away, zooming to comparatively safe distances. Now only two wing pairs were left: Wedge and Sanola, Tycho and Syal.

Another near hit rattled Tycho’s cockpit. He ignored it, focusing on the shuttle before him and on the Anakin Solo, rapidly getting bigger.

The plan Luke, Wedge, and their committee of advisers had put together was deceptively simple, and based around the phrase Let the enemy do the work.

Was it going to be tough to smuggle a team of infiltrators aboard the Anakin Solo, especially because security had doubtless been tightened after the Love Commander’s recent mission? Of course. So the Jedi would just steal Tycho’s shuttle, with its valid authorizations, and chase it to safety aboard the Anakin Solo. Equally tough to get saboteurs aboard Centerpoint Station? They’d dress up as Galactic Alliance Guard and board in the wake of the Alliance’s genuine boarding action.

And destroying the station itself-Tycho shook his head. As half ambassador to, half captive of the Jedi, he hadn’t been told what method they planned to use to eliminate Centerpoint, but he assumed it followed the same philosophy. Let the enemy do the work. Use the enemy’s strength against them. Very Jedi-like.

Wedge’s voice sounded in his ear: “Break.” Wedge and Sanola banked abruptly to port, vanishing from Tycho’s vision but not from his sensor board. Syal stayed behind Tycho.

He thumbed his personal comlink, the one not slaved or monitored by the Rakehells. “‘Now, Antilles.”