[Thrawn Trilogy] - 01(147)
He spun the Falcon around away from the spacetrooper, but not before there was a flash from a protuberance atop the other’s backpack and the hull around Luke slammed with a violent concussion. Han rolled the ship around, blocking Luke’s view, as another concussion rocked them.
And then they were pulling away-pulling away, but with agonizing slowness. Luke swallowed hard, wondering what kind of damage they’d taken.
“Han, Luke-you all right?” Wedge’s voice called anxiously.
“Yeah, for now,” Han called back. “You get the TIE fighters?”
“Yes. I think the mole miner’s still underway, though.”
“Well, then, blast it,” Han said. “Nothing cute; just blow it apart. But watch out for that spacetrooper-he’s using miniature proton torpedoes or something. I’m trying to draw him away; I don’t know if he’ll fall for it.”
“He’s not,” Wedge said grimly. “He’s staying right on top of the mole miner. They’re heading for a passenger liner-looks like they’ll make it, too.”
Han swore under his breath. “Probably got a few regular stormtrooper buddies still in there. All right, I guess we do this the hard way. Hang on, Luke-we’re going to ram him.”
“We’re what?”
Luke’s last word was lost in the roar from the engines as Han sent the Falcon flying straight out and then around in a hard turn. The mole miner and spacetrooper came back into Luke’s line of sight—
Wedge had been wrong. The spacetrooper wasn’t standing by the damaged mole miner; he was, in fact, sidling quickly away from it. The twin protuberances on top of his backpack began flashing again, and a couple of seconds later the Falcon’s hull began ringing with proton torpedo blasts. “Get ready,” Han called.
Luke braced himself, trying not to think about what would happen if one of those torpedoes hit his canopy-and trying, too, not to wonder if Han could really ram the spacetrooper without also plowing into the passenger liner directly behind him. Ignoring the proton blasts, the Falcon continued accelerating-And without warning, Han dropped the ship beneath the spacetrooper’s line of fire. “Wedge: go!”
From beneath Luke’s line of sight an X-wing flashed upward, laser cannon blazing.
And the mole miner shattered into flaming dust.
“Good shot,” Han told him, a note of satisfaction in his voice as he veered underneath the liner, nearly taking the Falcon’s main sensor dish off in the process. “There you go, hotshot-enjoy your view of the battle.”
Belatedly, the light dawned. “He was listening in on our channel,” Luke said. “You just wanted to decoy him into moving away from the mole miner.”
“You got it,” Han said. “I figured he’d tap in-Imperials always do when they can …”
He trailed off. “What is it?” Luke asked.
“I don’t know,” Han said slowly. “There’s something about this whole thing that keeps poking at me, but I can’t figure out what it is. Never mind. Our hotshot spacetrooper will keep for now-let’s go hit some more mole miners.”
It was just as well, Pellaeon thought, that they were only here to keep the enemy tied up. The Sluissi and their New Republic allies were putting up one terrific fight.
On his status board, a section of the Chimera’s shield schematic went red. “Get that starboard shield back up,” he ordered, giving the sky in that direction a quick scan. There were half a dozen warships out there, all of them firing like mad, with a battle station in backstop position behind them. If their sensors showed that the Chimera’s starboard shields were starting to go-
“Starboard turbolasers: focus all fire on the Assault Frigate at thirty-two mark forty,” Thrawn spoke up calmly. “Concentrate on the starboard side of the ship only.”
The Chimaera gun crews responded with a withering hail of laser fire. The Assault Frigate tried to swerve away; but even as it turned, its entire starboard side seemed to flash with vaporized metal. The weapons from that section, which had been firing nonstop, went abruptly silent.
“Excellent,” Thrawn said. “Starboard tractor crews: lock on and bring it in close. Try to keep it between the damaged shields and the enemy. And be sure to keep its starboard side facing toward us; the port side may still have active weapons and a crew to use them.”
Clearly against its will, the Assault Frigate began to move inward. Pellaeon watched it for a moment, then returned his attention to the overall battle. He had no doubt the tractor crew would do the job right; they’d shown a remarkable increase in efficiency and competence lately. “TIE Squadron Four, keep after that B-wing group,” he instructed. “Port ion cannon: keep up the pressure on that command center.” He looked at Thrawn. “Any specific orders, Admiral?”