Star Wars_ Legacy of the Force 04_ Exile - Aaron Allston [41]
Immediately the sensor screens lit up and began chiming. Lando activated his display screen and got a night-sight image, all in shades of green, of the holocam view from the front of Love Commander; he saw little but a line of CorSec speeders parked on the access way.
“I read one vehicle, size suited to a personal yacht, emerging from a hangar behind us,” Han said. “Hey, I think it’s the Pulsar Skate.”
Lando switched his display over to a rear holocam view. Emerging from a hangar door only two buildings away was a long, low yacht, shaped something like a example of gliding undersea life from the aquatic world of Mon Calamari. Essentially a flying wing with twin thruster pods at the back, it had graceful lines that swept back organically from the bow.
Han continued, “We have one vertical takeoff from the port’s main launch area, I think it’s a ballistic transport, outbound. And—fierfek. Looks like a small vessel, corvette class at least, heading our way.”
“Go to battle stations,” Lando said, unnecessarily. The shields were already up, and he’d seen Han power up the yacht’s weapons without authorization a moment earlier.
“Yes, Captain.”
“Try to open a channel to our escorts.”
“Yes, Captain.” Han scowled at Lando then returned his attention to his boards.
Leia lifted Love Commander off in the wake of the X-wings. Lando felt himself being pressed back into his seat as the yacht’s inertial compensators failed to keep up completely with the demands of vehicular acceleration.
“Love Commander to X-wing escort, come in.”
“Love Commander, this is Pulsar Skate.” It was a female voice, and one Lando didn’t recognize. “Stand by to receive line-of-sight transmission of encryption code. Three, two, one, sending. Got it?”
“Got it,” Han said. “Implementing…now.”
There was a burst of static, then the woman’s voice returned. “Encryption activated. Can you still read me?”
“We hear you just fine,” Han said. “I’m going to switch you over to our captain. I’m going to have to shoot things pretty soon, and he doesn’t have anything to do.” He pressed a button.
The holocam view faded from Lando’s display and was replaced with the face of a girl—young, pretty, with blue hair highlighted by yellow streaks. She looked familiar. “Myri Antilles here,” she said. “Impromptu comm officer for Pulsar Skate.”
Suddenly Lando felt ten thousand years old. The last time he’d seen Myri, she’d been a little girl. He forced a smile. “Myri! It’s your uncle Lando.”
“Lando! Hey! The white hair and beard look really good on you. Are they real?”
“No, of course not. It’s a wig and makeup.”
“Awww. You’ve lost all your hair?”
“No! My hair is black. Well, gray-black. This just isn’t it. I still have all my own hair.”
“Sure, you do,” Han whispered.
Lando gritted his teeth. “Myri, sweetheart, does your daddy have an exit vector?”
“Sure. First, we go shoot at the corvette—”
“No, no, no, we need to go away from the corvette—”
“The corvette’s all alone over the ocean, and every other direction has multiple starfighters and attack craft coming toward us. And assuming we can cripple the corvette, we should make orbit with no problem. But then we run into the Alliance blockade ships. That’s where the problem comes in.”
Suddenly Lando felt young and useful again. “Ah, that’s no problem.”
“No?”
“No. A kind young blockade lieutenant gave me a passcode the other day.”
“Oh, good. Oops—we’re at extreme firing range in ten seconds, nine…”
As Myri counted down, Lando switched his display view to a sensor screen.
Their miniature task force was now away from Coronet, out over the water, still gaining altitude. There were numerous blips back over the city, small units of attack craft headed their way; mercifully, Han was screening their comm traffic and keeping