Star Wars_ Death Star - Michael Reaves [108]
The CO nodded and said to the comm, “Grand Moff, superlaser is primed.”
The Grand Moff’s voice over the comm was calm but crisp: “Then fire.”
The CO nodded at Tenn.
As he had hundreds of times in simulated practice, Tenn thumbed the safety button on the shifter above his head and pulled the lever down. He counted silently:
Four … three … two … one—
“We have successful primary ignition,” the computer’s voice said.
Tenn waited. The target was two thousand klicks away, so the time would be only—
“A hit!” the targeting tech said. There was a pause as he scanned his scopes.
“Well?” Tenn asked tensely.
“It—it’s … gone, Chief. Nothing left.”
Tenn blinked at the report. He looked at the CO, who looked just as dumbfounded.
They had vaporized a carrier three kilometers across—with four percent power on the beam. Just like that.
A cheer went up from the men in the room. The CO thumped Tenn’s back. Tenn grinned in response, but inside, he was still having trouble believing it.
Four percent. The total destructive potential was nothing short of astronomical. The power of a star, at his command.
50
COMMAND CENTER, OVERBRIDCE, DEATH STAR
“Well,” Motti said, “it appears that the superlaser works.”
Tarkin smiled. “So it does. But there are still five hundred enemy fighters out there and they have no place to go, so they have nothing to lose.”
“And we already have them outnumbered more than two to one, with TIE pilots itching to shoot them down, and plenty more where they came from,” Motti said. “It’s a cleanup operation now, Governor. They can’t run, and they can’t hide.”
Tarkin nodded. “Give the order,” he said. “Tell our fighters to hit them hard and fast, while they’re still reeling from what they just saw.”
“Sir? Your private channel again.”
Tarkin nodded and took the call.
The man who appeared before him seemed upset. After a moment, Tarkin recognized the man as Daala’s ship runner.
“Yes, Captain Kameda?”
“We were attacked by a squadron of X-wing fighters, sir. We destroyed them, but we took damaging fire.”
“Why isn’t Admiral Daala telling me this herself?”
“Sir, we lost shielding on the bridge. There was an explosion. Admiral Daala was injured.”
Tarkin felt his belly clutch tightly. “How bad?”
“Not life threatening, sir. The medics have stabilized her.”
Tarkin let out the breath he was holding.
“But she sustained a head wound and is … disoriented. There is a piece of shrapnel in her skull. We need a surgeon.”
Tarkin nodded. “Get her to the station immediately.”
“We’re on our way, sir, should be arriving in a few minutes.”
Tarkin broke the call, then activated the station intercom.
Captain Hotise answered. “N-One MedCenter.”
“Admiral Daala has been injured in the attack and is on the way in with a head wound. Have your best team of surgeons standing by.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tarkin sundered the connection. This was not good news. It mitigated his triumph at the success of the super-laser’s first firing. He did not want to lose Daala—that would sour the taste of victory.
And of course, he did care for her …
A THOUSAND KILOMETERS OFF THE DEATH STAR
The first wave of X-wings outnumbered the line of TIE fighters two to one, but they were flying nonevasive—hoping, Vil guessed, to blow right past the defenders.
That wasn’t going to happen. Vil targeted the first X-wing to get within range, fired, and blew it apart, just like that. The enemy pilot never got a pulse off.
With zone defense, you moved around, but you held a certain position within specified limits. The X-wings were trying to get past, not engage. They shot if a TIE was right in front of them to clear a path, but they didn’t deviate from their trajectories. They were intent on the Death Star. That made them easy targets.
What kind of lunatic strategy was that?
Vil quickly took out a second ship, then a third.
Behind him, the battle station had scrambled more TIE ships, and behind the X-wings the Star Destroyers were sending out even more. Very soon the odds would be even, if not in the Empire’s favor.
The flight commander’s voice crackled