Part 30 (1/2)
Leia was screaming for joy down in her turret, and Luke shouted, ”Leia, Isolder, stay put. We're not done yet.”
Luke flipped a switch, and the c.o.c.kpit flooded with radio chatter. The screens picked up the sources, plotted them in tri-D on the head-up holo display. Han stared at the mess above them in dismay. The sky was full of s.h.i.+ps. No matter which way they vectored, it would be a tight squeeze, trying to make it out of the gravity well. Apparently the nightcloak was fouling the scanners somewhat. Although the scanners showed the s.h.i.+ps, they weren't picking up the transponder signals, and Han couldn't tell what kinds of s.h.i.+ps were out there.
Han swallowed. ”What are you thinking, kid, what are you going to do?”
Luke sighed, looked at the a.s.sembly of destroyers above them. ”We've got to bring down this nightcloak,” Luke said. ”It's not just people down there?it's, it's trees and gra.s.s and lizards and worms! Life! A whole living world!”
”What?” Han said. ”You want to get your head blown off for a bunch of lizards and worms? Don't flip on me now, kid! Find a hole in their net, and let's blast out of here.”
”No,” Luke said, breathing heavily. Chewbacca roared at Luke, yet Luke didn't respond. Instead the Jedi remained in the pilot's seat as if frozen, staring ahead in the smothering darkness as he flew.
Good, good, Han thought. At least he's putting some distance between us and those other fighters. Wherever they came out, Zsinj's men would not likely be ready for them. Luke closed his eyes, accelerated, as if in a trance, and smiled serenely. Han looked at his face, and though he was desperately afraid that Luke would get them all killed, right at this moment it didn't seem to matter. Go ahead and get us killed, Han thought.
We owe you our lives anyway.
”Thanks,” Luke said, as if Han had spoken the words. Luke fired the quad blasters, and Han did not see their light trail. The darkness was so complete, that even that little bit of light seemed denied them. Luke waited a moment, and Han watched the targeting sights playing over the head-up holo display. Luke locked onto something, fired. Han couldn't see a target, nothing on the scopes, and he wondered if Luke really was. .h.i.tting anything.
Again and again over the next twenty minutes Luke repeated the tactic, with no visible results. Threepio stood behind Han and whispered, ”Pardon me, Your Highness, but do you think we're accomplis.h.i.+ng anything? Perhaps you should take the fire controls?”
”Nah, let Luke do it,” Han said, and he glanced back at the holo display.
The radio signatures were rapidly increasing in number, and Han realized that Zsinj must have scrambled several hundred fighters. Apparently Luke's efforts had begun to worry the warlord.
And suddenly Luke fired a salvo and they came out of the blackness again, flying through the stars. It took a moment for Han to recognize that the orbital nightcloak had shorted out, and Dathomir once again turned below them, a s.h.i.+ning world of turquoise oceans and dark brown continents.
Chewie roared, and Luke accelerated away from the planet.
Han gasped as the holo display began reading the transponder signals, showing the s.h.i.+ps above them. There were hundreds of s.h.i.+ps in the air?Imperial Star Destroyers and the rust-colored disks of Hapan Battle Dragons. TIE fighters and X-wings gyrated overhead in a deadly dance.
Zsinj hadn't just scrambled fighters?the whole Hapan fleet had jumped out of hypers.p.a.ce.
Huge silver orbs shot out in all directions from one Hapan Battle Dragon, and Han swallowed hard. The Hapans were mining hypers.p.a.ce with pulsema.s.s generators. It was a risky maneuver, because it stranded both the attacker and the victim in normal s.p.a.ce for ten or fifteen minutes. It was a tactic that the Rebels had never used. One way or another, no one would be leaving this planet soon. The Hapans planned to either win or die.
Luke accelerated to attack speed, glanced up at the view-screen and locked his sights on an enemy Star Destroyer that was besieged on either side by Hapan Battle Dragons. The sky around the Imperial destroyer was alive with TIE fighters?more than any one destroyer could carry, and the hair rose on Han's head as he realized that it must have drawn off support from other destroyers. Han checked the holo display. Two other Imperial destroyers were vectoring in, coming to the s.h.i.+p's rescue.
”Who is on that Star Destroyer?” Han asked, gazing at the highly protected s.h.i.+p.
”Zsinj,” Luke answered softly. ”That's the Iron Fist.”
”Give me the helm, kid,” Han said, mouth dry. ”I want him.”
Luke looked over his shoulder, and for the first time Han noticed that the Jedi's face was a bruised mess, but his eyes were clear. ”Are you sure you can handle it?” Luke said. ”That is a Star Destroyer up there.”
Han nodded soberly. ”Yeah, and that's my planet he's trespa.s.sing on! I want him?but don't be afraid to help me out, if I need it.”
”Whatever you say, Your Majesty,” Luke said, and the way he said it, it didn't sound like a joke. Luke got up from the pilot's seat.
Han sat down, pain spasming through his leg, leaned his head back against the headrest, and breathed deeply. For the first time in months, he felt at home. ”Look, kid,” Han said, flicking the stick so that he veered away from the Iron Fist, headed on a collision course with a TIE interceptor.
”I don't know any of your Jedi tricks, but the best way to get close to a Star Destroyer is to sort of mosey on in, and try to act like you would rather be anyplace but where you are.”
Han glanced down at his weapons display. He still had four Arakyd concussion missiles in his launch tubes, but his proton torpedoes were dry. He armed the concussion missiles, took remote control of the dorsal quad blaster cannons, and fired a couple of salvos ahead of the TIE interceptor, giving just enough lead. The little gray s.h.i.+p hit the blasts and flared into oblivion, and Han vectored toward another fighter that was hightailing it toward Zsinj's Iron Fist.
Han accelerated as if to attack, but hung back a good kilometer until he felt the Falcon s.h.i.+mmy. Tractor beams.
Chewbacca growled.
”I know,” Han said. ”Transfer power from the rear deflector s.h.i.+elds. We won't let them hold us long.”
Calmly, he accelerated toward the Iron Fist at full sublight-speed, jiggling the stick so that even though the tractor beams were pulling them in, the Falcon presented a moving target. He dove through a bevy of TIE fighters, and behind him he heard Luke gasp. They were coming up on that Star Destroyer mighty fast.
Han looked to see which port the tractor beam was pulling him toward. In half a second he spotted it, waited until he figured he'd pa.s.sed through the s.h.i.+p's particle s.h.i.+elds, then fired two of his concussion missiles.
The tractor beams pulled the missiles home. When they hit, an explosion blossomed on the Iron Fist, and Han hit the decelerators and tried to hang onto the stick as he turned.
He held his breath, tried not to let the others see him sweat as he skimmed over a turret that couldn't spin fast enough to fire on him.
”You're under their s.h.i.+elds!” Isolder shouted over the intercom. ”You can fire anytime!”
”Yeah,” Han said. ”I know!” A blaster cannon turret swung at them, and Han spun the s.h.i.+p, dodged the fire. He armed his last two Arakyds, then flipped his radio switch to standard Imperial frequency.
”Emergency message for Warlord Zsinj of the Iron Fist! Priority Red.
Respond immediately! Do you copy! Priority Red. I have an emergency message for Warlord Zsinj!”
He waited for an eternity, weaving low through a maze of blaster turrets.
At last Zsinj responded, and his face came up on the holo display.
”This is Zsinj!” he shouted, and the warlord's face was red, eyes frenzied from the battle.
”This is General Han Solo.” Han nudged the stick, and the Falcon rose toward the forward command module of the Iron Fist. ”Look up at your viewscreen, you vermin. Kiss my Wookiee!”
He waited half a second as Zsinj looked out his viewscreen to see the Falcon hurtling toward him. Realization dawned on Zsinj's face. Han fired his last two concussion missiles.
The top half of the Iron Fist's forward command module disintegrated in a cascade of splintered metal. With its s.h.i.+elds down, the destroyer became a sitting duck. A shot from a Hapan ion cannon bathed the Iron Fist in blue lightning, and with its complex circuitry down, immediately it fell victim to a hail of proton torpedoes.
Han accelerated away from the dying s.h.i.+p, out of orbit for a moment, content to leave any other dogfights to the Hapans. With Zsinj gone, he figured it would only be a few moments before the Imperial fleet surrendered.
There were no wild shouts of celebration behind him, no glee. Instead, only a profound silence.
He found that his hands were shaking, and his vision blurred. ”Chewie, take the controls for a minute,” Han said. And Han folded his arms over his chest. Months of frustration, months of doubts and worries and fears.
That's what Zsinj had cost him.
Han felt Leia's thin hands on his shoulders, ma.s.saging them. His breath was coming ragged, and he leaned back in the captain's seat, let her knead some of the tension away. It was as if for the past five months, his muscles had been cramping tighter and tighter into little knots, warping him, and suddenly those knots began to unravel, work themselves out. What a cramped little man I've been, Han realized, wondering how he had not seen it, not noticed it himself, and promising himself that he would never let it happen again.