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Lando Calrissian.

She all but screamed where she stood. If Lando was here, there could be no question about Han and Leia. She turned back and forth, trying to decide whether to follow Lando or the Skywalkers, and finally turned back to pursue Lando.

BRIDGE OF THE DODONNA

“Recall all scouts,” shouted Admiral Tarla Limpan. The gray-green skin and red eyes of her Duros ancestry made her a striking figure on the Star Destroyer’s bridge—a benefit to her now, in the thick of battle. “Launch squadrons as they come ready. Threat assessment! What are we looking at?”

Finally, a hologrammic schematic of space directly around the planet Corellia sprang into existence above the bridge walkway. Admiral Limpan was actually within the hologram; she took two steps backward to be clear of it. On the schematic, the sphere of Corellia was a blue wire grid; Alliance ships were small green symbols, Corellian craft on the planet’s surface or within her atmosphere were yellow, and unknowns were red. There were lots of unknowns, some of them already streaking down into the atmosphere on the far side of the planet from the Dodonna. Far too many were approaching Dodonna along orbital vectors.

Though Colonel Moyan, her starfighter coordinator, was not on the bridge—he remained in the starfighter control salon, a nearby compartment—his growling voice echoed over the bridge’s speaker system: “We have two cruisers, a frigate, and a minimum of twelve starfighter squadrons headed our way. That’s only the newcomers. There are at least as many starfighter units rising up from Corellia’s surface. This is an all-out push. Our deployments around Centerpoint Station and the other four worlds are reporting similar mismatches.”

Limpan looked up, toward the high speakers, as though Moyan were up there. “Who are they?”

“They’re Bothan Assault Cruisers, Admiral.”

No expression crossed her face, but Limpan felt a twinge of sympathy for Moyan. He was Bothan.

“All right,” she called. “Navigation, plot a course for Centerpoint Station. Order our forces already there to hit the station as hard as they can. Denying it to the Corellians is our top priority. Dodonna will join in that action.” If we’re still functional when we get there, she added silently. And assuming we are, we can get a sense of whether we need to stay there and keep pounding, or run with our tails between our legs. “Where’s the Anakin Solo?” That Star Destroyer, assigned to Jacen Solo and the Galactic Alliance Guard, didn’t answer to her, and she didn’t always know its location or current task.

Her sensor operator called out, “It was at its usual station, just outside the Soronia orbit, on the direct approach from Coruscant. Now its coming in.”

“Ask it to join us at Centerpoint.” Limpan could feel the subtle changes in the ship’s artificial gravity, and see through the viewports at the bow, as Dodonna slowly wheeled away from her orbit and oriented herself away from the planet’s surface. “How many starfighter squadrons do we have onstation?”

“Three, Admiral.”

Limpan shook her head, rueful. They were going to take a pounding. In fact, a mere pounding was the best they could hope for.

As if reading her thoughts, one of the junior officers said, her tone just loud enough to reach Limpan’s ears, “We’re borked.”

“Enemy starfighters now reaching our maximum firing range,” Moyan said.

“Open fire,” Limpan said. “The order is fire at will.”

ERRANT VENTURE

Wedge and Corran angled into the Flag Hangar, each skidding as he made the hard turn from the corridor. Their astromechs had done a preliminary power-up, and the canopies of both snubfighters were already open. Wedge was first to his vehicle, but Corran, rather than climbing the ladder hanging from his cockpit, leapt lightly into his pilot’s couch. Wedge swore at the Jedi under his breath and climbed his ladder. “What’ve we got, sweetie?”

Iella’s voice crackled back across his comlink. “Unknown forces hitting every major position held by the Second Fleet in the system. Wait, not unknown. The Centerpoint Station task force is reporting