Star Wars_ Legacy of the Force 04_ Exile - Aaron Allston [85]
When he dropped from hyperspace, the Centerpoint engagement was spread out before him. In the background was the station itself, the ugly, cylindrical, kilometers-long mass of it. Nearer were the Galactic Alliance Mon Calamari heavy carrier Blue Diver and two sturdy-looking Carrack-class gunships. Compared with the curved, organic-looking Mon Cal vessel, the Carracks looked antiquated and impossibly primitive, like thick guard batons slightly larger at either end than in the middle. Blue Diver was exchanging turbolaser and ion cannon fire with the newcomers, and, curiously, it looked as though any of its turbolasers that could not be brought to bear on the gunships were being used to strafe Centerpoint. Surrounding the three capital ships were tiny glimmers and streaks of light, evidence of starfighter action taking place all around them.
Jacen stayed well back—the light laser cannon on his shuttle would not add much firepower to the Alliance forces, and he might not be able to detach himself from a skirmish when he needed to.
His sensor screen blipped with the arrival of a new force and showed him the blue triangle of the Anakin Solo, just arrived from hyperspace, racing toward the engagement. He heeled over, taking an intercept course that should bring him alongside the Anakin before it reached the engagement and allow him to get aboard before the Anakin had to open up with its weapons batteries—assuming that enemy starfighters didn’t rush to engage.
He was in luck, though. None of the enemy forces at the station disengaged to meet the Anakin, and Jacen reached the Command Salon within minutes.
There Commander Twizzl, commanding officer of the Anakin Solo, greeted him with a simple nod. A big silver-haired man who looked as though he should be appearing on holocasts advertising exercise equipment and protein-boosted foods, he spoke with a Coruscanti accent that had been diminished by decades of service spent among many species and social classes. “We’re preparing to bring the long-range lasers to bear against the gunships.”
“Belay that,” Jacen said. “Use them to reinforce Blue Diver’s fire against the station.”
Twizzl scowled. “Kill more enemy troops rather than preserve the lives of our own? Colonel, that’s a bad choice under these circumstances.”
“It’s our only choice. Can’t you see what’s going on? Admiral Limpan wouldn’t have ordered the attack on the station if she weren’t sure that the enemy forces could drive us out of the system. And if we are driven out, and leave an intact Centerpoint Station behind—”
“Yes, Colonel.” Twizzl didn’t sound convinced, but turned to the weapons officer. “Take a new target: Centerpoint Station. Continuous fire. Inflict as much damage as possible.” His voice was grudging.
ERRANT VENTURE
Well away from the public areas frequented by Errant Venture’s clientele and guests, Lando stepped from a shadowy passageway into a small turbolift. Its doors closed behind him and its service program spoke: “Deck, please.”
“Subcommand Three.”
“Please press a fingerprint, eyeball, or other individual identifier to the sensor.”
Lando raised his hand to do so, but the doors hissed open again and a woman in a dark hooded cloak limped in to stand on the far side of the lift.
Lando gave her a polite nod. It would be both suspicious and rude to order her out of the turbolift, so he’d let the lift take her to her destination, then lock it down against further entry and get back to his group’s operations center at the conference room.
“Deck, please.”
The newcomer ignored the service program. She pulled the hood from her face, revealing the features and lekku, one of them a stump, of Alema Rar. “Hello, Lando.”
Lando rocked back against the turbolift wall and drew his hold-out blaster, but before he had even cleared it from its hidden pocket she reached for it. The weapon flew from his hand into hers.
Alema looked at the blaster before dropping it to the floor behind