Thrawn shook his head. “No, the battle seems to be progressing as planned.” He turned his glowing eyes on Pellaeon. “What word from Cloak Leader?”
Pellaeon checked the proper display. “The TIE fighters are still engaging the various escort ships,” he reported. “Forty-three of the mole miners have successfully attached to target ships. Of those, thirty-nine are secure and making for the perimeter. Four are still encountering internal resistance, though they anticipate a quick victory.”
“And the other eight?”
“They’ve been destroyed,” Pellaeon told him. “Including two of those with a spacetrooper aboard. One of those spacetroopers is failing to respond to comm, presumably killed with his craft; the other is still functional. Cloak Leader has ordered him to join the attack on the escort ships.”
“Countermand that,” Thrawn said. “I’m quite aware that stormtroopers have infinite confidence in themselves, but that sort of deep-space combat is not what spacetrooper suits were designed for. Have Cloak Leader detail a TIE fighter to bring him out. And also inform him that his wing is to begin pulling back to the perimeter.”
Pellaeon frowned. “You mean now, sir?”
“Certainly, now.” Thrawn nodded toward the viewport. “The first of our new ships will begin arriving within fifteen minutes. As soon as they’re all with us, the task force will be withdrawing.”
“But …”
“The Rebel forces within the perimeter are of no further concern to us, Captain,” Thrawn said with quiet satisfaction. “The captured ships are on their way. With or without TIE fighter cover, there’s nothing the Rebels can do to stop them.”
Han brought the Falcon as close as he could to the Frigate’s engines without risking a backwash, feeling the slight multiple dips in ship’s power as Luke repeatedly fired the quads. “Anything?” he asked as they came up around the other side.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Luke said. “There’s just too much armor over the coolant-feeder lines.”
Han glanced along the Frigate’s course, fighting back the urge to swear. They were already uncomfortably close to the perimeter battle, and getting closer all the time. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. There’s got to be some way to take out a capital ship.”
“That’s what other capital ships are for,” Wedge put in. “But you’re right-this isn’t working.”
Han pursed his lips. “Artoo?-you still on line back there?” he called.
The droid’s beeping came faintly up the cockpit corridor. “Go through your schematics again,” Han ordered. “See if you can find us another weak point.”
Artoo beeped again in acknowledgment. But it wasn’t a very optimistic beep. “He’s not going to find anything better, Han,” Luke said, echoing Han’s own private assessment. “I don’t think we’ve got any choice left. I’m going to have to go topside and use my lightsaber on it.”
“That’s crazy, and you know it,” Han growled. “Without a proper pressure suit-and with engine coolant spraying all over you if it works-“
“How about using one of the droids?” Wedge suggested.
“Neither of them can do it,” Luke told him. “Artoo hasn’t got the manipulative ability, and I wouldn’t trust Threepio with a weapon. Especially not with all the high-acceleration maneuvers we’re making.”
“What we need is a remote manipulator arm,” Han said. “Something that Luke could use inside while …”
He broke off. In a flash of inspiration, there it was-the thing that had been bothering him ever since they’d walked into this crazy battle. “Lando,” he called into the intercom. “Lando! Get up here.”
“I’ve got him strapped in,” Luke reminded him.
“Well, go unstrap him and get him up here,” Han snapped. “Now.”
Luke didn’t waste time with questions. “Right,” he said.
“What is it?” Wedge asked tensely.
Han clenched his teeth. “We were there on Nkllon when the Imperials stole these mole miners from Lando,” he told the other. “We had to reroute our communications through some jamming.”
“Okay. So?”
“So why were they jamming us?” Han asked. “To keep us from calling for help? From who? They’re not jamming us here, you notice.”
“I give up,” Wedge said, starting to sound a little testy. “Why?”
“Because they had to. Because-“
“Because most of the mole miners on Nkllon were running on radio remote,” came a tired voice from behind him.