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It had worked beautifully, at first. The Empire of the Hand, Getelles’s betrayal, the Bloodfin, and now Jag himself emerging, ready for battle. And then the baradium missiles had all hit home.

Now the Gilad Pellaeon was nothing more than a deathtrap. The Empire Maker had been identified as Drikl Lecersen’s ship, and obviously he knew what he was doing. The missiles had struck exactly where they would cause the most damage, and everyone was scrambling for the starfighters, corvettes, and freighters, as well as the escape pods. The ships that could fight, would. Others would be picked up by the Bloodfin, still engaged with Daala’s forces.

Jag, Tahiri, and Ashik raced toward one of the hangars. Smoke had already clouded the air, and an alarm whooped at an eardrum-shattering timber. All three of them had managed to grab air masks, pressing them tightly over their faces as their booted feet rang on the metal plating of the Pellaeon. Many of the ships had already departed, but several yet remained. Those who did not make it onto a ship would use escape pods. Ruthless as Daala was, Jag could not imagine her destroying those. For one thing, it would be a waste of firepower, as they had no weapons.

There were eleven TIE Defenders remaining. “That’s our best bet,” Ashik said. Jag nodded. The things were older, but they were fast, maneuverable, and could handle fire from multiple enemies. Too, each ship could carry only one being. More targets made it more likely that they would all survive to rendezvous.

“I’d better see you on the Bloodfin, Tahiri,” Jag said as he climbed up into the ball cockpit of the Defender. “You’ve still got a trial to attend. I won’t take coming under fire by Daala as an excuse for you to miss your court date.”

The blond woman flashed him a quick grin. “I know my parole rules,” she said.

“Sir,” said Ashik. There was a tone in his voice that made Jag’s head whip around to regard his bodyguard and friend intently. “Remember … these ships have a hyperdrive.”

Jag knew what Ashik meant—that if it looked as if Jag wasn’t going to be able to fight his way to safety, he should drop out of the battle. Jag nodded, conveying his understanding—but not his agreement—with Ashik’s unspoken suggestion. This was his battle, his place. He was not about to run.

A SCANT SEVEN MINUTES LATER, JAG’S THREE-WINGED TIE DESTROYER was under fire by no fewer than three vessels. Briefly he wondered if they somehow knew it was he, but then he saw that the rest of the ships fleeing from the Pellaeon were being swarmed, as well. From this distance, Jag could see the gaping holes and ravenous flames in the Pellaeon, but there was no time to mourn the dead—not if he wasn’t willing to join them.

The Novaldex deflector-shield generators, nearly as powerful on the Defenders as on capital ships, held as he fired the L-s9.3 laser cannons mounted on the two lower quadanium steel wings. He got a clean shot on one of the TIE fighters, watching in satisfaction but not pleasure as it instantly exploded. Jag pushed forward into a dive away from the hurtling pieces of debris and swooped under two other fighters. He glanced at the stream of information coming in on his computer. The Bloodfin and safety were still too far away for comfort.

The other four closed in on him, flying in what appeared to be an erratic pattern behind him. Jag, however, knew exactly what they were doing. The Defender had one very nasty flaw—an aft blind spot. Jag’s pursuers, also well acquainted with Imperial TIE designs, were obviously aware of that and were trying to fall into position for a clear shot.

Jag transferred power to the rear projecting deflector shields, then pulled back and soared almost vertically upward, continuing to pull hard into a loop that ended with him behind both fighters. He made short work of them, using not just the laser cannons but the two NK-3 ion cannons mounted on the upper wing. One of his pursuers exploded immediately,