Star Wars_ Death Star - Michael Reaves [154]
“Stand by …”
COMMAND CENTER CONTROL ROOM, DEATH STAR
Motti yelled in the background: “They’ve fired proton torpedoes down an auxiliary heat shaft! Incoming! Incoming! The reactor will blow!”
Tarkin blinked. No. No, it wouldn’t. He was calm. All would be well. This station was invulnerable. It was unbeatable. It was unthinkable that it could be beaten.
Unthinkable—
E-2T MEDSHUTTLE 5537
The shuttle suddenly leapt forward as if kicked by a giant’s boot. The inertial dampeners kept them from being whiplashed, but they could see the starfield shift crazily about them.
“What the—” Ratua began. He stopped as he, and the rest of them, stared.
The rear viewer was focused on the Death Star, which had exploded in a silent, horrendous flare of red and orange and yellow. A hyperspatial reflux ring expanded outward.
“What …?” Memah was shaking her head in disbelief.
“It blew up,” Uli said. He sounded stunned. “The Death Star just … blew up.”
“Everybody, hang on,” Vil said. “The edge of the shock wave will hit us pretty fast—”
The ship jumped, shook suddenly, then began to tumble, a leaf in a gale.
“Kark!” Vil said, fighting to regain control of the ambulance. “I hope she doesn’t break up!”
The tumble continued. There was a bad moment, another worse one—and then the battering stopped.
“What happened?” Teela asked.
“Shock wave passed us. We’re still in one piece.” Vil engaged the sublights. “Now if we can just stay ahead of the shrapnel we should be okay.”
“Remind me to find out who made this ambulance,” Ratua said. “I want to send them a testimonial. And if they make flitters, I want to buy one.”
The others laughed—the relieved laughter of those narrowly delivered from death. All except Teela.
“Teela?” Vil said. “You okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just that—the Death Star was a monster, no question about that. It was conceived by monsters and controlled by them. But not everyone on board was a monster.”
Nobody said anything for a while.
“How did it happen?” Ratua asked. “Was it the Alliance, or did someone just push the wrong button?”
“We’ll never know,” Memah said.
“The superlaser must’ve misfired. That’s the only explanation that makes any sense,” Vil replied. “It couldn’t have been anything the Rebels threw at it. Those X-wings were like buzz-beetles trying to take down a ronto.”
“Don’t be too sure,” Teela said. She quickly explained about the unshielded vent.
Vil looked skeptical. “I’m not buying it. Even with the targeting computer, the chances of lobbing a proton torpedo down that shaft were a million to one.”
Teela smiled. “What was it you told me once? Sometimes long odds are the only ones worth playing?”
There was another short silence.
“So what now?” Uli asked. He was tired, and he could see that the others were, too. They were all in fairly heavy shock. Watching two planets—or one planet and one battle station the size of a moon—blow up within the span of a cycle was just too much for the mind to encompass.
“We have pretty good star charts,” Vil said. “And a decent cruising range. We can get to any of half a dozen systems. But there’s a Rebel base on that moon right over there, and I’d guess they’re pretty happy right now. Might be room for a few people willing to sign up.”
“You’d do that?” Memah asked. “Join the Rebellion?”
Vil shrugged. “I’m a fighter pilot. It’s what I do, and I’m good at it. More to the point, I’m a fighter pilot who’s extremely disillusioned with the side I’ve been on. In addition to my piloting skills, I can take a TIE apart blindfolded and put it back together. I know a few secrets our new friends might be interested in.”
“Not to mention,” Memah said, “you’re the man who outflew Darth Vader.”
Vil grinned, then looked at Teela. “Of course, it depends on your plans.”
“It does? Why might that be?”
Vil looked like he’d just swallowed a cup of too-hot caf. “Well,” he said, “if you’re agreeable, I thought we might get married.”
“Interesting way to