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THE HUTT GAMBI(104)

By:A C Crispin


Jiliac’s yacht shuddered as the turbolasers fired again, then again.

Mako was dying to get up and see for himself what was happening, but the ship was pitching so violently that it would have been dangerous.

All he needed was a broken arm—or neck.

WHAM-WHAM! “Blast,” Blue said. “We’ve lost three turbolaser mounts.”

WHAM!

“Make that four.”

“Blue, what in blazes is going on?” Mako yelled over the next volley.

“Are we hurtin’ them at all?”

“Yeah,” she grunted. “We’re hurtin’ ‘em. Fire, boys! Again!”

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, Mako unsnapped his harness and staggered across the heaving deck to see what was going on.

“His port shields are weakening,” Blue told him. “Our starboard shields are gone.” She maneuvered the Hutt yacht so the relatively intact bow shielding was pointing toward the Vigilance.

“Engines are sluggish,” Mako said, feeling the ship strain to move.

“Tell me about it,” Blue snapped.

The Pearl fired again, then again, and then-Mako let out a whoop of glee as he saw, instead of the splash of turbolaser fire against a shield, a big charred mark appear on the Carrackclass ship’s armored hide. “His port shields are down!” “So are our starboard ones,” Blue snarled. “But, baby, we’ve got him now! Disengage!”

Mako raced back to his comm center. “All right, listen up! Too Late Now!

Minestra! Defense Central calling. Come in, over!”

Mako was addressing two of the merc vessels that he knew had been assigned to these coordinates. Too Late Now was a captured and modified Imperial patrol craft, and Minestra was a captured Imperial light corvette. Both vessels now sported the “blazing daw” insignia that marked them as pirates.

“Minestra, we read you, Mako,” said a voice.

“Too Late Now, likewise.”

“Listen up, guys, good news! We just took down Vigilance’s port shields!”

“We’re already moving in to finish him off,” said the voice of Minestra’s captain. “Mako, we saw the pounding you took. You’d better get out of here before more Imps show up.”

“We’re only too happy to,” Blue said, and with painful slowness, the Dragon Pearl limped away. Mako glanced at her diagnostic sensors, and cursed. No starboard shields, sublight engines crippled, hull damage, and we’re leakin’ some atmosphere. Jiliac’s gonna be right irritated ‘bout this…

The two pirate ships had arrived by now, and they and the freighters were ganging up on the injured Vigilance, drawing in like scavengers toward a staggering prey. Mako saw the Carrick-class ship take hit after hit, until finally the armor couldn’t take any more, and a huge hole was blasted in her port side. The smugglers targeted her engines, then her bridge, and within minutes, she was drifting helpless in space. Lifepods launched from the Carrack as some of the crew began abandoning ship.

Mako grinned. “You did good, guys! Okay, my ship’s out of it, at least until we do some damage control, so I’m heading for Illusion Point ahead of schedule. You guys stick it out. Those skirmish ships should be arrivin’ any minute!”

Admiral Greelanx stared at Commander Jelon, taken aback by his subordinate’s report. “You say that the Vigilance is out of the battle?

Captain Eldon is dead?”

“Yes, Admiral. I regret to say it, sir.”

“What about his TIEs?” “All destroyed, sir.”

Greelanx was too disciplined to swear aloud, but he did so mentally.

“Order the skirmish ships to full speed. Order two squadrons of TIEs to accompany them. Instruct them to engage the enemy at will.”

“Yes, sir!”

For a moment Greelanx considered bringing the other Carrackclass, the Outpost, into combat, but he decided against it. The Outpost might be needed for mopping up, later. He didn’t want to risk his only remaining recon vessel.

We’ll show these wretched criminals, Greelanx thought angrily, completely forgetting, for the moment, that he was supposed to lose this battle …

Captain Soontir Fel stared at Admiral Greelanx’s tiny holo-figure as it seemingly stood perched atop the Pride of the Senate’s comm board, feeling as though someone had punched him in the stomach. “Eldon is dead?”

Greelanx nodded shortly. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“I see, sir. Permission to speak, Admiral?”

“Go ahead.” Greelanx was anything but welcoming.

“Perhaps we should take these smugglers a bit more … seriously .

. .

sir? They apparently are capable of mounting a coordinated attack, as opposed to simply shooting at random.”