Star Wars_ I, Jedi - Michael A. Stackpole [158]
Suddenly I got a sense of victory pulsing out from Tycho. I flicked my target selector with my thumb and screened targets for maximum danger. What I got were a pair of proton torpedoes fast closing with my clutch. Despite my running, Tycho had come around and gotten a target lock on me, then sent me two going-away presents. The torpedoes traveled considerably faster than my clutch, which was their great strength and, luckily for me, their primary weakness.
I watched the range indicator on the lead missile scroll down and as it closed to within two hundred meters, I jerked my stick back, then jammed it to the left and rolled into a dive. The first missile raced past while the second rolled and corrected. I jammed my stick forward and dove, letting it slide past too, then I smiled. The way out of this trap I learned from you, Tycho.
Using my scanners, I located the first missile and locked it in as a target. I brought my clutch about so I was headed straight for it and waited until it closed within a kilometer. I flicked my weapons over to dual lasers, dropped my crosshairs on the incoming torch and fired twice. My first pair of bolts missed, but the second hit, ripping the missile to pieces only five hundred meters away. I rolled, dove and located the second torpedo. I nailed it with my first shot, detonating it at a kilometer, then flew through the collapsing gold fireball on my long swoop toward the Invidious.
I heard Tycho’s voice crackle through on a widecast. “Very fancy flying, clutch.”
“Didn’t want you to think I was a green pilot, Rogue Lead. Another time.” I put my clutch into a quick weave, then darted in under the umbrella of the Invidious’ fire and landed the Tri-fighter in the middle of the group area the Survivors had been given. I noticed, as I brought the fighter around so the front was pointed toward the egress hatchway, that the Survivors had only lost six of thirty-six clutches, and I’d only lost two. The Imp clutch group had lost over a dozen of their Tri-fighters, and the front rank of their lead squadron—spaces reserved for the commanding officers—appeared empty.
After taking a deep breath, I removed my helmet and enviro gear, then I popped the hatch and climbed out of the clutch. Timmser and Caet helped me down to the deck and supported me as my legs gave way. It took a moment for me to realize how weak I felt. Flying against Tycho had probably been the most difficult thing I’d ever done, and I had an edge in the Force. What he did, what Wedge did, without being able to use the Force made them far more special than any Jedi. They flew with heart and brains and their entire being.
Timmser hauled me to my feet. “Very sharp what you did out there, Jen. Shooting the torps. That showed them.”
A warning klaxon sounded and red lights started flashing in the hangar deck. I reached back and braced myself against the clutch as the Invidious accelerated to lightspeed. The ship’s gravity generators canceled the physical effects of speeding up, but watching the stars whiz by through the egress port was enough to disorient me.
Caet fastened on her hooded cloak and pulled the hood up, then removed her heavy goggles. “We did well. Bolt lost only one. Hawk lost three.”
“Who did we lose?”
“Five and Seven.” Timmser shrugged. “They decided to tangle with some slims, and the A-wings vaped them.”
I shook my head. “That was a waste.”
“Slims were running against the Backstab. Blook and Yander thought they would win points with Captain Nive.” Timmser brushed a hand back and forth through her spiky hair, making it stand up and spraying me with some sweat. “You okay now, Cap?”
I straightened up. “Better. Easy to