Star Wars - The Han Solo Trilogy - Hutt Gambit, page 28
Hah, what are you planning to do? Salla inquired ap-prehensively.
Oh, I just thougilt I might zip by the Peacekeepers bridge and wave at the captain, Han said with cheery good humor. Just a friendly little visit . . .
Han! Salla protested. Id rather we all lived through this?
Crazy Corellian . . Lando muttered.
Hey, Han said. What are you worryin about? Its Hie!
Captain Reldo Dovlis, in command of the Imperial Dreadnaught Peacekeeper, shook his head in disgust. Cease fire! he snapped. Its not rea]. It cant be. Our shots havent taken out a single ship. And none of their shots have done us the slightest bit of harm. Were just wasting our fire and our time.
His sensor operator looked up. Sensors still indicate that what we are seeing is real, sir.
Sensors are lying, then, Dovlis snarled. He studied the tactical array, and saw a number of ships heading for Peacekeepers stern, coming fast. Vessels approaching from the tear, he said. Turn to bring our forward turbolaser battery to bear on them. Lock in weapons. Prepare to fire on my order.
Slowly the big ship began to swing around. Dovlis kept a shalt) watch on the approaching vessels, and was relieved to see that hed have time to fire several salvos at them. From the size of them, that ought to-
His pilot gave a strangled yelp, and the Peacekeeper shuddered. Red laser fire spattered against Peacekeepers forward shield.
A bare second later a ship swooped by, so close to the bridge viewscreen that even Dovlis yelled and ducked. The ship, a small, battered SoroSuub freighter, executed a per-fect inside loop and came back for a second run.
Theyre not all phantoms./Dovlis realized. Turn back! he shouted. Fire on that ship!
Peacekeeper began turning back again. Now Dovlis could see the smuggler fleet again, and he gasped at how close they were.
Two more beat-up freighters strafed the Peacekeeper.
Target those vessels! the Captain ordered. Fire!
Mako Spinces crew had managed to jury-fig some re-pairs to the Dragon Pearl, so the Hutt yacht now had par-tial starboard shielding, and her hull leaks had been sealed. Her sublight speeds were still impaired, but Mako was will-ing to risk taking her back into battle. Captain Renthal had assigned a Y-wing fighter to accompany him, and the swift, powerful little ship now cruised beside him, prepared to keep incoming off his weakened starboard side.
Scanning the tactical and sensor arrays, Mako saw that he was now in range of his target, the Imperial bulk cruiser Liquidator. The ship was still pointing its stern toward the oncoming smuggler and pirate vessels, still vulnerable to attack.
Mako, Blue said, were within firing range.
Mako nodded at the beautiful smuggler pilot. Great! Im going to let the Y-wing have first pass, then well get in our licks. Instruct the gunnery crew to target his left rear deflector, right over his engine room. We want to hit him in the same place as the Y-wing.
Right, Blue muttered, and relayed the order.
Mako was grateful to have that Y-wing to help cover his starboard side. The swift, modern little fighter was not only equipped with lasers, but with proton torpedoes, which were bound to come in real handy.
He keyed his comm, spoke to the pirate gunner aboard the Y-wing. Mako here. You ready?
Were ready!
Go for it!
Mako watched the Y-wing on his sensors. The little ship made its run, slamming four proton torpedoes into the des-ignated target before sheeting off. Okay, Mako, the gun-ner said, circling back to join the yacht, shields are either down or barely holding. Your turn! My pleasure?
Mako turned to Blue and gave her a nod. She increased speed to maximum (which still wasnt very good) and headed for the Liquidator, turbolasers blasting away.
With their first blast, Mako knew the bulk cruisers shields were already down. The Pearls gunners pummeled their target repeatedly with the two remaining turbolasers, before the cumbersome Imperial vessel could turn to bring her heavy forward guns to bear.
Moments later the Imperial ships right flank, and the engine room beneath it, was a blown-out wreck. The Liqui-dawr spun slowly in space, helpless, leaking atmosphere.
Captain Drea Renthal leaned forward excitedly in her command seat. Finally! A little action of my nvn! Guiding her ships throughout the battle had been challenging, but not like this. Now she was flying her own vessel, and she was going in for the kill.
Her target was another of the big bulk cruisers, the Ar-resWr. These ships were outdated, clumsy, and not heavily shielded enough. By comparison with Arrestor, Renthal F/st was a heavily armed, sleek engine of destruction. In addition to its two twin turbolasers in top and bottom tur-rets her Corellian corvette had four twin laser turrets on the sides for shooting fighters, and a pair of capitd-ship proton torpedo launchers in the front, beneath her bridge.
Her supply of proton torpedoes was limited, as Han had predicted. Renthal had only four. They were extremely hard to come by.
But as she closed in on Arrestor, Renthal was deter-mined to make every one of them count.
As she neared firing range, she spoke to her gunnery crew. Prepare to launch torpedo one and two. Target her stern. Id love to get a reactor overload going! Yes, sir! Renthal smiled. She liked being called sir.
As Renthal Fist swooped by, she shouted, Fire!
Her ship lurched slightly, once, twice, as the proton tor-pedoes went streaking out in a blue of blue fire.
The first torpedo took out the cruisers shields. The sec-ond bored into the hull and caused damage.
Fire turbolasers! Renthal ordered, coming around for another pass.
The Arrestor was lurching now with the impacts. The turbolasers bored ever deeper into her vitals, seeking her heart-the reactor that powered her engines.
Renthal was never quite sure what warned her. Instinct, perilaps, developed after twenty years of fighting. She turned her ship sharply, and accelerated away at top speed.
Behind her, Arrestor exploded as thoroughly as any frag-fie TIE fighter.
Renthal smfied seraphically. My, that was fun!
Mako cheered as he watched five of Renthals Y-wings strafe the Dreadnaught Peacekeepers stern, targeting its vulnerable engine area, volleying it with proton torpedo SalVOS.
The Dreadnaughts were a lot tougher targets than the clumsy bulk cruisers, but he thought they might have a chance to kill this one.
Apparently Han, Salla, and Lando had pulled some typi-caly harebrained stunt to keep the Peacekeeper occupied until the Y-wings eould move in. Mako could make out their blips, following the Y-wings, waiting for those proton torpedoes to deal with the shields before wasting shots on the big vessel.
Mako found himself doing some mental figuring as the Y-wings strafed the Imperial Dreadnaught. Two salvos of two torpedoes each, from five Y-wings... that equals twenty torpedo hits!
It sounded like a lot, but Mako had trained aboard an Imperial Dreadnaught, and knew how tough the old ships were.
There goes the first salvo . . . ten torpedoes . . . ten hits . . .
Mako did some rough calculations, figured that the Peacekeepers stern shields ought to be in real trouble by now.
As the Y-wings swooped by on their second pass, black-ened holes began appearing in the Dreadnaughts star-board flank, where its massive engines were.
Now that the shields were down, other smugglers were attac4cing the Dreadnaughts stern with abandon. The Imp Captain tried to turn his ship so he could fire on them, Mako could tell, but the ship was already sluggish, unre-sponsive.
And then, suddenly, there was a bright flare on the star-board side, and then the light from the Peacekeepers en-gines went out.
Mako whistled softly. I think hes in trouble . . .
Sir, the starboard reactor overloaded! The safeties shut it down! Reldo Dovliss second-in-command reported. No engine power remaining, sir!
Dovlis looked around, feeling desperate. Without en-gines, he couldnt escape. The smuggler ships were too small to do him much damage quickly, but over time they could cut his ship to ribbons, starting from the unprotected starboard stern, and working their way up, toward the bridge, destroying shields piece by piece, boring into his ship with their little lasers . . .
Weve got to restart those engines, or weve had it, Dovlis said, knowing he spoke the truth. Override the fail-safe. We need power!
But, Captain- The young mans face was ashen with fear. Dovlis didnt blame him. Reactors werent something to mess around with. But what other alternative did he have? All the other Imperial vessels were engaged it was unlikely that an appeal to Greelanx would bring help quickly enough.
Dovlis was counting on the fact that the override on the reactor was designed to trip long before tilere was actual danger of an explosion.
He fixed his subordinate with a steely gaze. I gave you an order, Commander. Yes, sir!
If only we can fire the engines for long en,ntgh to get closer to the other ships! Dovlis thought. Drifting, the Peacekeeper would tend to be pulled in by Nar Shaddans gravity.
Dovlis heard his ships engines fire, strain, and h is heart ached at what he was having to do to her. But all their lives were at stake.
Peacekeeper strained, lurched, then crept slowly for-
ward
and then shuddered in agony as her starboard engine exploded. The port engine was still firing, however, and the unequal thrust sent the Dreadnaught into a dizzying spin!
Engines ore shouted Dovlis, but found that the Com-mander had already anticipated his order. Peacekeeper spun now in silence, whirling over and over.
The artificial gravity was still functioning because of the emergency power cells. But they werent enough to power the ships maneuvering thrusters. They had no way to pull out of this spin. Firing the port engines again would only make them spin harder, faster.
Reldo Dovlis watched in utter terror as the stars whirled by, then the surface of Nar Shaddaa, hazy because of the moons planetary shield, then the stars, then the moon . . .
Do somethingl his mind screamed Were being drawn by the moons gravity! In abentt a minute, were going to hit Nar Shaddaa energy shield!
And what an explosion that would be!
Stars . . . moon . . . stars . . . moon . . .
Whirling in a dizying spin, whirling, spinning, utterly powerless to stop . . .
Stars . . . moon . . . stars . . . moon . . . stars . . moon very close now . . .
Dovlis strove for dignity. He was, after all, an Imperial officer. Can anyone think of anything that might help? lie askeck keeping his voice steady and calm.
His bridge crew looked at him silently. The law of grav-ity was, in this case, as cruel and inexorable as any of those imposed by the Emperor.
Stars . . . moon . . . stars . . . moon so close now . . .
Stars... moon...
And then there was only the moon, clutching them to her, dragging them into her shield And then there was nothing at all . . .
One of the smugglers who had darted in to take shots at the dying Peacekeeper was Roa, who was feeling pretty cocky. Lately hed been wondering if he wasnt getting old, losing his edge, but today hed engaged in two dogfights with TIE fighters, and come out victorious.
Hey, Ive .still got it! he thought, sending the Lwyll dart-
ing after the spinning Dreadnaught. Just for the thrill of it,
he sent the Lwyll hurtling beneath the plummeting Imp,
pulling out steeply, feeling the gee forces grip him, so
strong was the pull-
and then the Peacekeeper hit Nar Shaddans shield.
Even climbing as he was, the shock wave threw Roa forward. He smashed into his control yoke with bruising force. Parts of his instrument panel shattered, sending shards of glassinc to impale his arms and chest like tiny daggers.
As the big ship exploded, it wiped out a section of the planetary shield, and flaming debris was sucked through, down into the upper atmosphere. And so was Roa.
Tile concussion shock wave had stunned him, and he struggled to regain full consciousness. It wasnt easy. Waves of blackness rolled over him like a night sea.
But Roa was a fighter. He didnt give up his struggle to open his eyes, to blink, to raise his head.
Seconds later he was able to focus again, and realized where he was and what he was doing. He was falling like a stone, down and down, hurtling through Nar Shaddaas grimy atmosphere.
Roa blinked. There was something in his eyes. Blood?
Most likely.
He shook his head, and pain stabbed. Trying to move brought agony. His instrument panel was a mess, but some parts were still lit and functioning. His flight suit was no longer vacuum-proof, but he wasnt in a vacuum any longer . . .
Forcing himself to move, to take control, Roa grabbed the controls and began to wrestle the little scout craft down through the atmosphere, using every bit of skill he had to achieve a soft landing.
Or even a hard landing.
Any kind of landing
The LwyU tried valiantly to respond to his commands. He brought her nose up, got air beneath her wings. His headlong fall slowed.
Roa began testing his braking and maneuvering thrust-ers, and they responded sluggishly. He was still falling, but now it was a relatively controlled fall.
Beneath him, he could see a landing platform. Using his maneuvering thrusters, he managed to edge the Lwyll over, until he was certain hed land on it, as opposed to tumbling over the side, down into the abyss between buildings . . . The permacrete was rushing up at him, fast . . .
Too fastY
Roa fought gravity as he would have fought a human opponent in a wrestling match, using every bit of skill he possessed.
As the permacrete hurtled up at him, Roa braced him-self . . .
He never remembered the moment of impact.
How much later did he blink, swim back to conscious-ness? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?
Roa didnt know and didnt care. He hurt in a hundred places, but a more visceral fear than any hed ever known drove him to full consciousness.
The smell of burning. The LwyU was burning. Any mo-ment now, she might explode, and all his struggle to land her would be for nothing . . .
Ignoring the stabbing glassinc shards that still impaled him, Roa reached up and stabbed the control that would pop his cockpit. Clumsily he unsnapped his flight harness. He managed to pull himself up, out of his seat, then half fell over the side. He kicked weakly, trying to get the strength to draw his legs over.
Suddenly hands grabbed him, lifted him. Voices babbled in his ears, faint because of the helmet. He was being lifted, carried.
He heard steps on the permacrete. They were hurrying, running steps. He was being shaken, jounced, almost as badly as when the explosion had hit him.
Roa raised his head slightly, looked back at the Lwyll, just in time to see his beloved little ship blow up.
But Im alive, he thought foggily. Im alive, and I still have the real Lwyll . . .
And with that thought, he blacked out.
For a man who had been granted his wish, Admiral Win-stel Greelanx was remarkably unhappy. The Admiral stared at his tactical screens, his sensors, saw the damage his squadron had taken, and was absolutely furious. How dare those smugglers? How dare they?
One Dreadnaught utterly destroyed. A Carrack-class cruiser fit only for salvage. One bulk cruiser a helpless crip-ple, another that was now part of the debris and spacedust floating around Nar Shaddaa . . .
Greelanx fought back the urge to rally his troops and continue the battle. He still had a formidable force, espe-cially against these smugglers. There was a decent chance, perhaps more than fifty-fifty, that he would be able to achieve victory and implement his orders.
But he couldnt do that. He had been looking for a way to justify withdrawal, and now it had been handed to him.
He turned to Commander Jelon. Order our ships to fall back in an orderly fashion. When they have disengaged, order them to rendezvous at our hyperspace rally coordi-nates.
Jelon stared at his commanding officer in open surprise.
Retreat, sir?
Yes, retreat, Greelanx said harshly. We cannot achieve our directive here in the YToub system. Approved tactical wisdom dictates an orderly retreat, while we still have some control over the situation.
Usually Greelanx would no more justify his orders to a subordinate than he would step out an airlock without a spacesuit, but in his mind he was composing his official report, trying those phrases on for size.
Jelon snapped to attention and saluted formally. Yes, sir!
Retreat? thought Captain Soontir Fel in blank astonish-
ment. Retreat? We can still win[
It wouldnt be easy, but it was do-able. Fel was sure of it. He simply couldnt believe that Greelanx had so little back-bone.
Retreat in orderly fashion, Commander Jelon re-peated. Those are the admirals orders.
Fel outranked Jelon, and that gave him the courage to speak his mind more bluntly than he would have dared to the admiral. But there are still unrecalled TIEs out there. We cant abandon them!
The admiral is expecting the squadron to make the jump to hyperspace at the rally coordinates within the time he specified, Jelon said stiffly.
Fels mouth tightened. Fel out, he said curtly, and the tiny holographic image of Jelon vanished.
Soonfir Fel turned to his second-in-command. Broad-east an emergency recall to all TIE fighters to rendezvous with the Pr/de. I will take as many as I can, until the dock-ing bays and shuttle bays are full. At the same time, we will disengage and withdraw, Commander Toniv. Vhat speed, sir? One-quarter speed, Commander.
One-quarter speed, sir?
You heard me.
Yes, sir!
Fel had ordered such a ridiculously low speed in order to give as many TIEs as possible the chance to get aboard his vessel. Technically, he was obeying his orders-Gree-lanx had neglected to specify a speed but he was dis-obeying them in spirit.
Frankly, at the moment, Soontir Fel could have cared less about his orders. He wasnt going to abandon those TIE pfiots!
Five minutes later his docking bays were full of the reg-ulation twelve TIE fighters, and his shuttle bay contained another three. Sensors didnt indicate any other TIEs out there to be picked up, so Fel ordered Pride up to full speed to catch up to the rest of the squadron.
