Star Wars_ Death Star - Michael Reaves [151]
The voice from the speaker said, “Rebel base, three minutes and closing.”
What harm could those last few fighters possibly do in that time? In less than three minutes, they would be orphans, easy pickings, and the war would effectively be won.
SUPERLASER FIRE CONTROL, DEATH STAR
Tenn Graneet watched the graphic on his screen. The target would be within range in another couple of minutes.
His mouth was as dry as desert sand, his belly churning like a heavy sea. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t murder yet another world. But he couldn’t stop it, either. Were he to stand down, another gunner would be up here to replace him in mere minutes, and he would be in the brig with a military death mark against him.
What was he going to do?
E-2T MEDSHUTTLE 5537, YAVIN SYSTEM, GORDIAN REACH
The bay doors opened, and Vil punched it. The little ship rocketed out. Now all he had to do was stay in the groove …
“E-Two-Tee Medical Shuttle Five-Five-Three-Seven, this is Flight Control. Where are you going?”
Vil said, “Flight Control, this is Lieutenant Fayknom. We have an emergency pickup.”
“I show no record of your flight plan.”
Stall, Vil! “Hey, that’s not my problem. I just fly where I’m told. Check with Door Control, they vetted us.”
“We are attempting to do that now, Lieutenant. Turn it around and return to the dock until we get it cleared up.”
“Negative on that, Flight Control. This is a priority mission. We come back, it’ll be too late to do our job.”
The Flight Control officer was between a rock and a hard place, Vil knew. He had his protocols, and they weren’t being met. But somebody had opened the doors and let the shuttle leave, so maybe it was a computer error. It wouldn’t be the first one.
“This is TIE x-one,” came a deep voice over the comm. “What is the nature of your mission, shuttle?”
Vil felt his insides freeze. Any starfighter pilot who knew a tractor from a pressor knew that designation. It was Vader himself on the comm.
Vil said, “An incoming Imperial ship has been damaged by Rebel fire. They have wounded.”
“I know of no such Imperial arrivals,” Vader said. “Return to the station.”
“Copy, Lord Vader. We are returning to the station.” He shut off the comm.
Ratua said, “What? Are you crazy?”
“Relax,” Vil said. “We aren’t going back. But if he thinks we are, that buys us a few more seconds to get clear. We’re faster than he is, once we get moving. He won’t be able to—uh-oh.”
“What?” That from Teela.
“He’s coming at us.”
TIE X1
The instant he had seen that medical conveyance, Vader had felt something wrong, a clamor from the dark side. While he ordered the shuttle back to the station, all it took was a moment’s probing with the Force for him to recognize a mind that was familiar.
There were several aboard, none of them weak-minded, but one … a woman … where had he felt her before?
Ah, he had it. On the station, when he had toured during construction. One of the builders, an architect, had shut him out of her thoughts, as if slamming a door in his face. He’d been impressed by her strength of mind and will.
What was an architect doing on a medical rescue ship?
And then he knew: deserters!
His anger surged. There were so many things about this project that he had not been able to control. Well, he could deal with this! The X-wings could wait a moment or two longer. He would take care of these traitors himself. They would learn that resisting Darth Vader was fatal …
As he and his wingmates bore in, the medical ship slewed into a tight, high-g turn. Vader felt the fabric of the Force shiver as he adjusted his path to intercept.
He opened the channel again. “Return to the station, shuttle, or I will fire on you,” he said.
E-2T MEDSHUTTLE 5537
They were in deep trouble, Vil knew. They weren’t even armed, and Darth Vader was the best fighter pilot in the galaxy. He remembered saying something once to the effect that he would probably just augur his ship in if he ever found himself in Vader’s crosshairs—that way at least he got to choose when to die.
It wasn’t just his life on the