Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 07_ Conviction - Aaron Allston [154]
“Shields up! Emergency all ahead full!” That was this frigate’s interim commander, the Keshiri man who was Tola Annax’s second in command and thus in charge of the ship when neither Annax nor Khai was on the bridge. Khai looked at him, startled that the man would offer such commands without checking with Khai first.
The bridge crew, its efficiency honed to a sharp edge by Khai’s presence and by Annax’s demanding standards, responded instantly. Khai felt himself drawn into the back of his chair, the ship’s inertial compensators not entirely matching the sudden acceleration.
Khai glared at the man. “Lieutenant?”
The sensor operator shouted before the lieutenant could reply. “Foreign device on sensors, device passing astern—”
The weapon detonated. Sound systems integrated with the sensors interpreted the attack as an explosion, nearby but not immediate, so all aboard heard a boom astern as if the attack had been made in atmosphere. The frigate lurched from the impact. Minor-damage alarms began wailing.
The lieutenant turned to face Khai. “Multiple signals. Starfighters out of nowhere. Our sensors aren’t tracking them effectively. Between us and open space. The entire flotilla’s under attack, sir.”
“See to its defense, Lieutenant. Gauge respective strengths. If they’re too much, get us out of here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Khai fumed. There had been nowhere near enough time for Nam Chorios’s commanders to transmit a report, for distant commanders to launch a military response, for that response to reach this system. His attackers had already been here. That meant this was an ambush.
A Jedi ambush. It had to be.
Luke, Ben, and Vestara assumed a triangular back-to-back formation and moved out into the more open area of the chamber, where the bodies of Theran Listeners were not so numerous. The Listeners themselves seemed to have lapsed from agonized dreams into true sleep.
Sith began raining down from the two platforms. They moved to surround Luke and his companions, their lightsabers springing to life. There was no mistaking their intent—at least not for Luke and Ben.
Tola Annax, still on the platform, did have words for Vestara. “Care to surrender, dear? I’d really enjoy seeing you try to talk your way out of your current situation.”
Vestara’s reply was resolute and haughty enough to impress Luke. “How about you surrender to me? I might let you live.”
“No, thank you, dear. But I appreciate the courtesy.”
Over her shoulder, Vestara stage-whispered, “Brace yourselves. We’ll be hit by a major Force attack in ten seconds. Nine.”
The Sith attacked.
Their assault was simple and effective: overwhelm by sheer number of simultaneous assaults. Two Sith confronted and swung at each of them. Beyond the enclosing triangle of hand-to-hand fighters, more Sith gestured, shoving at the defenders, attempting to use telekinetic techniques to move them out of line, into the paths of red blades. More Sith leapt over the fight, one after another, inverting, striking at the Skywalkers and Vestara below; at the end of his or her leap, each landed on the far side, turned, and leapt again.
Conserving his depleted strength, Luke fought a defensive battle, deflecting his attackers’ blows into the floor, into open air. Seeing, feeling the Force being marshaled to shove him, he resisted, but did so soft-style, turning away from the shove or letting it propel him in a direction he wanted to step, never fighting it with pure strength.
He had to fight that way. He could barely stand. His injured knee was beginning to tremble again; his leg nearly buckled beneath him.
He heard Ben’s more energetic defense, heard the snap and crackle of his lightsaber blade against Sith blades. There was a sizzle from above Vestara; something meaty dropped behind Luke and then rolled out where he could see it. It was the head of one of the leaping Sith, a man; the rest of his body crashed to the floor atop a Theran Listener.
The distant