[Thrawn Trilogy] - 02(165)

Trying not to wince back from the attack, Han kept up his own fire, knowing full well that he wasn’t doing much more than making noise. Luke’s lightsaber flashed like something alive and hungry, deflecting the bolts that came too close. So far the kid didn’t seem to have been hit : but Han knew that it couldn’t last. As soon as the Imperials stopped laying down random cover fire and started concentrating on their aim, there would be too many shots for even a Jedi to stay clear of. Gritting his teeth, wishing he knew what Luke had in mind, he kept shooting.

“Ready!” Luke shouted over the screaming of the bolts : and even as Han wondered what he was supposed to be ready for, the kid took a step back and threw his lightsaber to the side. It spiraled across the anteroom, spun into the wall—

And with a crack like thunder, sliced the anteroom open to space.

Luke leaped backwards, barely making it into the bridge before the blast doors slammed shut against the explosive decompression. Alarms whistled for a moment until Chewbacca shut them oft, and for another minute Han could hear the thudding of laser fire as the doomed Imperials fired uselessly at the blast doors.

And then the firing trailed off into silence : and it was all over.

Luke was already at the main viewport, gazing out at the battle taking place outside. “Take it easy, Luke,” Han advised, holstering his blaster and coming up behind him. “We’re out of the fight.”

“We can’t be,” Luke insisted, his artificial right hand opening and closing restlessly. Maybe remembering Myrkr, and that long trek with Mara across the forest. “We’ve got to do something to help. The Imperials will kill everyone if we don’t.”

“We can’t fire, and we can’t maneuver,” Han growled, fighting back his own feeling of helplessness. Leia was on that Escort Frigate out there : “What’s left?”

Luke waved a hand helplessly. “I don’t know,” he conceded. “You’re supposed to be the clever one. You think of something.”

“Yeah,” Han muttered, looking around the bridge. “Sure. I’m supposed to just wave my hands and-“

He stopped short:and felt a slow, lopsided smile spread across his face. “Chewie, Lando-get over there to those sensor displays,” he ordered, looking down at the console in front of him. Not the right one. “Luke, help me find-never mind; here it is.”

“Here what is?” Lando asked, stepping in front of the display Han had indicated.

“Think about it a minute,” Han said, glancing over the controls. Good; everything still seemed to be engaged. He just hoped it all still worked. “Where are we, anyway?” he added, stepping over to the helm console and activating it.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Lando said with strained patience. “And fiddling with that helm isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“You’re right,” Han agreed, smiling tightly. “It’s not going to get us anywhere.”

Lando stared at him:and slowly, a smile of his own appeared. “Right,” he said slyly. “Right. This is the Katana fleet. And we’re aboard the Katana.”

“You got it,” Han told him. Taking a deep breath, mentally crossing his fingers, he eased power to the drive.

The Katana didn’t move, of course. But the whole reason the entire Katana fleet had disappeared together in the first place-

“Got one,” Lando called out, hunching over his sensor display. “Bearing forty-three mark twenty.”

“Just one?” Han asked.

“Just one,” Lando confirmed. “Count your blessings-after this much time we’re lucky to have even one ship whose engines still work.”

“Let’s hope they stay working,” Han grunted. “Give me an intercept course for that second Star Destroyer.”

“Uh :” Lando frowned. “Come around fifteen degrees portside and down a hair.”

“Right.” Carefully, Han made the necessary course change. It was a strange feeling to be flying another ship by slave-rig remote control. “How’s that?” he asked Lando.

“Looks good,” Lando confirmed. “Give it a little more power.”

“The fire control monitors aren’t working,” Luke warned, stepping to Han’s side. “I don’t know if you’re going to be able to fire accurately without them.”

“I’m not even going to try,” Han told him grimly. “Lando?”

“Shift a little more to portside,” Lando directed. “A little more : that’s it.” He looked up at Han. “You’re lined up perfectly.”