“Negative, Med Evac. We’re waiting. They’ve rigged the ship to blow if anyone tries to board her.” “Let me try.”
The comlink fell silent for a few moments as if Gold Fortress was considering the proposal.
“Okay, Med Evac, we’ve sent a signal indicating that you’re standing by, but we don’t know if anyone’s receiving. Last we heard, troopers were holding the hangar area. So you take your chances. You’re obviously not a boarding party, but they might shoot first and worry about ID later.” “I do this all the time, “Caedus said soothingly. “I can calm people down.”
Or make them want to fight to the last trooper. But you don’t need to know that right now.
“Your best bet is to dock with the emergency access on the upper hull aft of the tower, and hope common sense prevails. Make sure you’re all lit up, Doc…”
A shattered X-wing rolled slowly across his bow as he moved closer to Bloodfin; and a slab-sided vessel of a type he’d never seen before drifted without power on the port side of the Destroyer. Caedus picked up a waft of life and anxiety in the Force. One of Daala’s museum collection, no doubt, but where had she hidden all this when the Maw Installation was cleared out? He’d have to locate that little sarlacc of nasty surprises sooner rather than later. Tahiri, I’m here. Help me out. Concentrate. She was alive, but under stress. He could almost feel her heart beating out of her chest. She was under attack.
Caedus aligned the med speeder with the rescue access hatch, yellow and red chevrons glowing in his landing lights.
Chapter 16
This will be a difficult matter for me to square with others, but I would be prepared to offer Admiral Niathal’s fleet safe haven. At a time like this, when Colonel Solo clearly represents the greatest threat to Fondor and the rest of the galaxy, uniting against him is the most important thing. He may well be back to finish the job he started, and if he doesn’t, then I would like to commit the forces we have left to finishing him.
-Shas Vadde, President of Fondor, to Luke Skywalker
IMPERIAL STAR DESTROYER BLOODFIN
“Mand’alor, we’ve got company.”
Fett paused to adjust the audio in his helmet comlink with an eye-blink. Blasterfire spat around the compartment, cracking the air apart. “Can you deal with it, Grade?”
The Tra’kad was the right vessel at the right time; even without manual systems, it was ideal for playing dead. “Med sprinter docking, top rescue hatch.”
“How caring.” Fett was getting tired of waiting for the Moffs and the platoon of shock troopers defending the next compartment to give up and die. “Clear!” He lobbed in a small stun grenade-no dets, keep the place in one piece if we can-and instinctively flinched at the stupefying blaze of light and noise, even though his helmet buffered it. Then he hosed the space with blasterfire. “Courageous medic, or some scumbag abusing the noncombatant flag?”
“They’d better be medics, or they might end up in need of surgery themselves. Leave it to me and Ram.”
Mirta backed along the bulkhead, blaster raised, and stepped past Fett to check the compartment. The ship’s defended heart was like a nest of boxes. That was great-as long as you weren’t trying to get out. Somewhere aft of them, they could feel sporadic thumps through the ship as troopers tried to smash their way into the center section.
“Did you fry the locks on the hatches to the hangar deck?” Fett asked.
“Yes.” Mirta listened at the next barricaded hatch to the Moffs’ last stand. “I hate being interrupted when I’m working. We can crack it later if they still want a fight.”
Carid and Vevut unrolled a strip of detonite to make a frame charge. “You reckon they’ll cave in when we de-Moff this crate?”
“Maybe.” Fett calculated for a moment: twenty Mandos in Bloodfin, about thirty standing by to follow them and take the troopers trying to batter their way into the engineering area. The Imperials might have had a lot more troops, but that counted for little in a confined space where they couldn’t actually use them. “They’re logjammed.”
Carid and Vevut waved him back, and he took cover with Mirta. The whump of the exploding charge left the hatch hanging open; Vevut ripped it to one side with a crushgaunted hand, and fire spat out the hatchway. If Daala hadn’t wanted the ship largely intact, this could have been over by now. A volley of bolts struck Carid in his beskar chest plate and smacked him against the bulkhead. He made an animal grunt of annoyance.
“Ah, I love it when you boys get saucy!” he wheezed. Fett heard the shunk of his gauntlet vibroblade. “Come here and say hello to your uncle Carid…”