Solo Command (40 page)

Solo nodded. “Selaggis Six is the perfect place for Zsinj to make a stand. He can use the terrain to his advantage. An asteroid ring to hide in, a planetary atmosphere he might even be able to bring
Iron Fist
into for cover. That’s our destination, Captain. Follow that group.”

•    •    •

Leaving Tonin behind, Lara stepped out of the turbolift onto a deck of
Iron Fist
that wasn’t supposed to exist.

She’d only seen it through holocam recordings taken by utility droids. It didn’t seem quite as cavernous from a human perspective.

Ahead was a long, dimly lit corridor. To the right was a bank of viewports showing more brightly lit chambers.

The first chamber she passed was the one she thought of as the zoo. In it were a couple of monitoring consoles and an entire wall of metal and transparisteel cages, stacked three high, the upper ones accessed by a sort of portable turbolift—a metal floor in an open-air upright frame. Most of the cages still seemed to be full. Two human men were seated at a desk, one typing away on a large terminal. Neither noticed Lara. She wasn’t surprised; inside the more brightly lit room, the transparisteel of the viewport would be very reflective. If they did see her, all they’d see was a naval officer walking at a slow, measured rate.

It was making her crazy, having to pace herself now that she was within sight of humans and holocams again—though Tonin’s measures should have rendered those holocams ineffective. She wanted to dash down to the end and do her business. But she couldn’t afford to attract attention, not now.

The next chamber was a surgical theater. The operating table featured an inordinate number of straps and fasteners of varying sizes. There were also injectors on robot arms, monitor screens, tools she couldn’t recognize. She suppressed a shudder.

Then, the office. Within it, another two men, medical technicians. One looked up as she passed, squinted, and shaded his eyes to see her through the partial reflection.

She rounded the turn to the right and punched the combination Tonin had given her into the door keypad there. The door slid open.

The two technicians, dark-haired men of ordinary appearance, their features so similar they were probably brothers, glanced at one another and their expressions brightened. “A new liaison officer?” asked one.

“That’s right.” Lara entered and shut the door.

“Would you
please
—” said the first.

“Please please please,” said the second.

“Tell us what’s going on with the ship?”

“We were in a battle, weren’t we?” said the second. “I could feel the vibrations even down here.”

“I felt them first.”

Lara looked between them. “You two, and the men in the containment chamber, are the most vomitously despicable creatures I think I’ve ever met.”

The two men looked at one another. “You haven’t even gotten to know us yet,” said the first.

From where she’d tucked it into her belt at her back, she drew her blaster. Both men flinched. “Take me to the containment chamber,” she said. “Or I’ll kill you.”

In moments she was in the largest chamber, four prisoners standing splayed against one blank wall, while she examined the cages at ground level.

Inside the nearest was an Ewok. “Do you understand Basic?” she asked.

It nodded, its motion quick and very human. Its eyes looked like those of an Ewok but possessed an understanding that was unsettling.

“I’m going to free you and get you off this ship. So you can go home or live where you please. Would you like that?”

It nodded.

One of the medics said, “Zsinj will kill you for this.”

“No, he’s going to kill me for several other things.” The lock on the cage was simple, mechanical; she lifted it and the Ewok emerged. The creature looked at the medics and uttered a low, rolling growl.

Then, to Lara’s discomfiture, it spoke, its voice rising and falling in a singsong that did not belong to any Basic dialect she’d ever heard. “I will kill them.”

“No,” she said. “You will go to each cage. Ask each prisoner if it will refrain from attacking me if it is freed. Tell it that I will get them all off this ship. Then free the ones who agree.”

The Ewok looked up at her, so obviously considering her
command and his other options that Lara could almost see a strategic program running behind his eyes. Then he shrugged like a human and moved to the next cage.

Out the forward viewport, Zsinj could see little but tumbling asteroids and brilliant flashes of light as
Iron Fist’
s forward guns blasted the largest of them.

The communications officer said, “The shuttles report our explosives packages being planted on schedule.”

“Good.”

“And
Chains of Justice
reports sensor contact with Solo’s fleet, sir.”

“Very well.”

“And we have a report from the chief engineer.”

“Hold on.” Zsinj stepped back to his hologram pod in the security foyer directly behind the bridge. “Send it to me here.”

The face and torso of the chief engineer, whose light build and scrupulous cleanliness belied his profession, swam into focus in the air. “Sir, we’ve identified the trouble. The engineering compartments are swarming with, well, saboteur droids.”

Zsinj gave him a look to suggest the man shouldn’t make jokes. “Would you like to try again?”

“Standard MSE-6 utility droids, sir. They’ve gone mad or been reprogrammed. With their internal tools, they’re opening access hatches, chewing their way into wire clusters, sending false data, dragging chips out of their housings. All in the hyperdrive systems.”

The absurdity of what the man was saying hit Zsinj and he almost snorted. “And what are you doing about this?”

“We’re, uh, kicking the things to pieces with our boots, Warlord. Between the primary and redundant systems, we’re restoring the system to functionality. But when we jump, we’ll need to make it a careful one; there won’t be any backup systems in case of component failure.”

“Understood. How long?”

“Pessimistically, an hour. Optimistically, somewhat less. I don’t know how much less.”

“As much less as possible, if you please. Out.” The image faded.

Zsinj turned to Melvar. “Very clever. I wish our analysts had anticipated such an approach to sabotage. We need thinkers like her in my organization, General.”

“Are we not going to kill her, then?”

“I said thinkers
like
her. But loyal ones. Her fate will serve to reinforce that loyalty.”

The starfighters of Solo’s fleet finished forming up, then broke off by task.

Wedge’s task force included four X-wing squadrons, one A-wing, and the Wraiths. They turned toward Selaggis Six and leaped forward, drifting a little out from the path taken by Zsinj’s group, their intent to pass it by and reach the planet first. Other groups of starfighters would head straight for the Star Destroyers at the rear of the formation, hoping to get some early licks in, while still others remained on station with Solo’s fleet as a defensive screen.

“Group, this is Leader. When we reach the ring, we’ll break by squads to our assigned task. Rogue and Wraith Squadrons will head counter-spinward and spread out the width of the ring for reconnaissance. Corsair and High Flight Squadrons will do the same spin ward. Polearm and Shadow Squadrons will break by wingpairs and do recon runs on the moons. First pilot to spot
Iron Fist
gets an extra three-day leave.”

Iron Fist’
s communications officer announced, “
Chains of Justice
reports starfighter launch and deployment from
Mon Remonda
. X-wings incoming. Y-wings remaining behind as a screen.”

Zsinj smiled. “Launch all our squadrons, except the One Eighty-first and the experimentals.” He turned to Melvar. “While they send their fastest fighters looking for us, we can concentrate ours on them.
Mon Remonda
is in for the beating she deserves.”

•    •    •

“Incoming starfighter squadrons from Selaggis Six,” the sensor operator said.

Solo nodded. “Bring the Y-wings up front. Let them think that’s all we have. Array the rest behind
Mon Remonda
.” He had four squadrons of Y-wings, two each from
Mon Karren
and
Mon Delindo
, plus two more Y-wing squadrons and a Cloakshape squad off the
Battle Dog
.

The Y-wings were good at hammering large targets, and rugged enough to sustain a lot of damage from enemy starfighters. But they weren’t fast or nimble enough to keep TIE fighters from bypassing them and hitting a target like
Mon Remonda
.

However, the last ship in Solo’s formation, the Imperial Star Destroyer
Skyhook
, after its capture from the Empire, never had its complement of Imperial fighters replaced by the New Republic’s ubiquitous Y-wings. Instead, it retained its original complement of six TIE fighter squadrons, crewed mostly by former Imperial pilots who’d joined the Alliance over the years.

The approaching force, nine squadrons of TIE fighters and interceptors, came on in a spread pattern toward
Mon Remonda
, ignoring the other ships in Solo’s group. Several kilometers out from
Mon Remonda
, as they reached maximum firing range from the Y-wing squadrons, they opened up with a salvo of lasers, then broke around the Y-wing force in four groups, leaving the slower New Republic starfighters to turn awkwardly in their wake.

“Open mass fire,” Solo said. “Forward guns only. Prepare to drop them at my command. Bring up the TIEs.”

The cruiser’s forward turbolaser batteries and ion cannons flashed into life, and Solo could feel vibrations in the heels of his boots as wave after wave of destructive energy poured out toward the enemy. On his sensor board, the cluster of TIEs waiting to
Mon Remonda’
s stern, colored blue to indicate their friendly status, suddenly leaped into motion, half moving up over the cruiser, half under her hull.

Off the cruiser’s bow, the incoming TIEs began reaching effective fire range. The cruiser throbbed and vibrated as her shields absorbed concentrated laser fire from a hundred starfighters.

The friendly TIEs reached
Mon Remonda’
s midway point. Solo said, “Cease mass fire. Begin individual defensive fire by
sensor only—with friendly TIEs out there, they can’t rely on visuals. Good luck to the pilots.” Then, all he could do was wait and watch.

He saw a collective waver along the line of enemy TIEs as their pilots, momentarily freed from the distraction of the turbolaser barrage, recognized that the incoming TIEs were not friendly. Some looped back the way they’d come. Two red dots vanished instantly, destroyed by incoming fire from the pursuing Y-wings. Then the clouds of red and blue targets became hopelessly intermixed.

The turbolasers opened up again, their fire more intermittent, their gunners firing more discriminately now that friendly and enemy forces were in such close proximity.

Far ahead, Solo’s X-wing reconnaissance squadrons should be reaching the ring of Selaggis Six about now. “Come on, guys,” he breathed. “Get me what I need, fast.”

“Group Leader, this is Polearm One. I have the
Iron Fist
.” Captain Todra Mayn, once of Commenor, now a Starfleet Command lifer, had only to glance out her port viewport to see the mighty vessel. “I’m flying parallel to the center of the interior rim of the debris ring.
Iron Fist
is about forty kilometers deep in the ring. She seems to be blasting herself a channel parallel to the edge. It’s the turbolaser flashes that let me spot her.”

“Polearm One, Group Leader. Good work. Stay in position and we’ll form up on you.”

Iron Fist
didn’t alter course in the minutes it took Wedge to form up his group of six squadrons. “Group, Leader. Any guesses as to her intent?”

“Leader, this is Shadow One. This sort of ring includes particles much finer and closer than we see in normal asteroid fields. Most of them won’t worry a shielded Star Destroyer. But even finger-sized bits can wreck an X-wing at high speeds. I think he’s giving himself a second set of shields here.”

“Good point,” Wedge said. “But space around the larger asteroids should be a little clearer—their gravity will have drawn in
some of the proximate particles. We’ll take it slow going in and move from asteroid to asteroid until we’re close, an island-hopping approach. Break by squads, each squad choosing its own approach.” He suited action to words by heeling over to starboard, descending relative to
Iron Fist’
s orientation, along the inner rim of the debris field. Rogue Squadron formed up behind him.

Entering the debris field was like flying into an odd sandstorm. The asteroid debris was mostly small, and was sufficiently well spaced so that only the larger asteroids interfered with vision. But every few seconds, forward shields would light up with the impact from a tiny asteroid, or Wedge would hear a metallic clank as something hit his hull. His diagnostics continued to register full atmospheric pressure, though.

He set his course from large asteroid to large asteroid. Some of them were the size of small moons, the others merely as large as good-sized houses.

His comm unit crackled. “Group Leader, this is Wraith One. Wraith Squadron in position to begin assault run.”

“Wraith One, Leader. Good flying. Stand by until all squadrons are in position.”

“Acknowledged.”

Rogue Squadron finished a half orbit around one of the larger asteroids and suddenly
Iron Fist
was in full view again—less than a kilometer below. Other than the bow guns being used to clear a path for her, the ship’s weapons were not active. A few large asteroids floated between the Rogues and their target, partially obscuring Wedge’s view.

“Maintain this orbit,” Wedge said. “Rogue Squadron in position.”

“Shadow Squadron in position.”

“Corsair Squadron in position.”

A minute later, the remaining units had reported in.