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He wasn’t the only one who had noticed the arrival of the Jedi reinforcements. Faced with overwhelming odds, the Dark Lords under his command had reacted in the only manner they understood: self-preservation through flight. Already most of the other fliers had broken off their strafing runs and were executing evasive maneuvers, intent only on escaping the battlefield alive. And with their Lords and Masters fleeing the engagement, the hordes of Sith soldiers on the ground would be quick to follow. Imminent victory was about to become disasterous defeat.

Swearing vile oaths against both the Jedi and his own people, Lord Kaan knew there was only one option left. Weaving and darting to avoid a pair of bolts intended to blow him from the sky, he joined the retreat.

29

General Hoth couldn’t help but offer the ragged hint of a smile despite the dead and wounded that lay scattered across the battlefield. The Sith had sprung their trap, and somehow the Army of Light had survived.

He recognized Farfalla’s colors on the gunships that were now circling the field, keeping the Sith stragglers pinned down under whatever cover they could find until the troops on the ground could surround them and demand their surrender. Most were quick to comply. Everyone knew the Jedi preferred taking prisoners over killing their enemies, just as everyone knew the Jedi treated their prisoners humanely. The same could not be said for the Sith, of course.

A small convoy of personal fliers was emerging from the gunships, flying down to join the survivors on the ground. The general recognized Farfalla aboard the lead flier, even as Farfalla caught sight of him and came in to land.

The younger Jedi stepped off his flier, not speaking but extending his hand by way of cautious greeting. He was dressed in clothes as bright and outlandish as ever, but for some reason it didn’t bother Hoth as it once had. Hoth stepped over to him and clasped him in a firm embrace, causing Farfalla to laugh in surprise. Hoth only released him from the fierce hug when Farfalla began to cough and sputter.

“Greetings, Lord Hoth,” Farfalla said once he was released, making a deep bow and a flourish. Standing up, he gazed out across the battlefield, and his expression became more serious. “My only regret is we couldn’t get here sooner.”

“It’s a miracle you’re here at all, Farfalla,” Hoth replied. “I’m afraid to even ask how you managed to run the blockade, in case this all turns out to be nothing more than the fevered dream of a doomed and dying man.”

“Rest assured, General, I am quite real. As to how we arrived, that is easy enough to explain: the Sith broke the ranks of their blockade to engage our fleet. With our capital ships drawing the focus of their cruisers and Dreadnaughts, we were able to send several gunships down to your aid.”

“What about the rest of our fleet?” Hoth asked in concern. “The Sith had nearly double the numbers of your ships.”

“They held their own long enough for us to get through the blockade, then disengaged and retreated with surprisingly few casualties.”

“Good.” The general nodded. Then he frowned. “But I still don’t understand why they would engage your fleet at all. It makes no sense!”

“I can only assume that they received orders to do so from someone here on the surface.”

“Kaan was on the verge of wiping us out,” Hoth insisted. “The last thing he would do is give the order to engage.”

Both Jedi were silent for a moment, pondering the implications of what had happened. Finally Farfalla asked, “Is it possible we have an unknown ally among the Brotherhood of Darkness?”

Hoth shook his head. “I doubt it. More likely the Sith are finally beginning to turn on each other. It was inevitable.”

Master Farfalla nodded his agreement. “It is the way of the dark side, after all.”

Kaan was fuming as his flier touched down back at the Sith camp. How could everything have gone so terribly wrong in such a short time? They had been on the cusp of victory, and now suddenly they were on the knife