“I suspect that they have war trials in mind, sir.”
“Uh…”
“I have a shuttle standing by. Air Lock Epsilon Thirty-four G, well away from the intruders. It’ll get you back here, safe, in minutes.”
Koyan shook his head. “I have to monitor the situation from here. Decide if and when to fire.”
“Admiral Delpin and I can monitor from the command bunker until you arrive. Transmit us joint firing and command authorization and we’ll stay on top of things until you arrive and resume command.”
Options and consequences clicked through Koyan’s mind. Actually, that was an ideal solution, especially if the need to fire came while he was in transit. Teppler and Delpin would press the button. History would credit Koyan for effective leadership if all went well, and would blame Teppler and Delpin if there was any significant outrage.
He nodded, decisive. “Done. Make sure that shuttle is there when I arrive.”
“It will be.” Teppler’s image faded.
Koyan turned toward the tech. “Until you hear from me again, you’re taking orders from the Minister of Information and Admiral Delpin.”
Vibro looked back, hopeful. “But we will be able to fire?” Koyan nodded, projecting confidence. “I’m sure of it.”
“Rake Six to squad.” Twool’s voice was as musical as any Rodian’s, but Syal could hear strain in his tone. “Incoming starfighters dead ahead, coming over the curve of the station.”
Syal glanced between the heads-up display on the canopy before her and the more informative sensor monitor beneath. They didn’t show the incoming units, but Twool’s X-wing had better sensors.
“Squad, Leader. Loosen up, by flights.” Wedge’s starfighter suddenly rose, relative to the shuttle they pretended to pursue, and Sanola and Syal followed. Corran’s two wing pairs rolled to starboard and descended; Jaina’s drifted to port.
And then the enemy were there, cresting Centerpoint Station, lined up so their angle of approach was directly between the Rakehells and the star Corell. Syal gave the enemy points for effectiveness and tradition-though they weren’t attacking in atmosphere, they were still diving on their foes out of the sun.
They were X-wings, and their sensor designation was Rogue.
Wedge and Sanola were juking and jinking just as Syal recognized the designation. She followed suit instantly, just in time for a long-distance salvo of quad-linked lasers to flash through the space her starfighter had just vacated.
The enemy, a full-strength squadron, broke into three flights of four, each turning toward a corresponding unit of
Rakehells. Laserfire crisscrossed between the two forces, passing harmlessly as the starfighters danced out from under one another’s aim. Then the opposed squadrons came together, wing pairs whirling away as if, in their flight, they were trying to replicate the intricate spiral patterns of complex proteins.
Two X-wings came after Wedge; one each angled toward Sanola and Syal. Syal dropped back, putting all her X-wing’s discretionary power toward her rear shields.
She hadn’t yet fired, still didn’t fire. She couldn’t fire on an ally.
She saw her father riddle one enemy with laserfire, damaging the starfighter but not putting it out of combat. His other enemy chewed at his tail, just as Syal’s opponent was hammering away at hers. She couldn’t fire on an ally.
Nor could she do anything less than give her whole effort for her father.
The two absolutes were mutually exclusive. They swelled up inside her like a bomb going off.
She heard the cry of outrage and confusion before she knew it was hers and acted before she fully understood what she’d decided. She decelerated hard-far more sharply than was normal for X-wing pilots, but she was used to being tossed around by the violent maneuvering thrusters of her Aleph-and threw discretionary power into her lasers. Her opponent overshot her, beginning a sudden roll to starboard, but her lasers caught him, stitching away at his thrusters…
He disappeared in a flash. Debris ignited as it hit and bounced off her forward shields. She turned after her father, tracking his second opponent, firing at him.
She didn’t try to hit him, not at first. Her salvo missed deliberately to his starboard, causing him to flinch instinctively to port-away from Wedge. She restored her shields to normal fore-and-aft balance and followed, herding her target away from her father.
She saw a tiny flash to starboard-her father’s target was still flying, but his R5 unit had just exploded under persistent laserfire.
Her own target wobbled, beginning a climb-then suddenly decelerated. Syal yanked her yoke back, assuming his climb was a fake, and hit her thrusters. Her enemy seemed to fly in reverse, passing beneath her, nose now pointed downward. Her reflex had been correct, and he was oriented away from her, unable to bring his lasers to bear. She continued her climb, looping around in a tight 360-degree curve, and saw her target doing the same, coming back toward her for a face-to-face pass.