Star Wars_ Legacy of the Force 07_ Fury - Aaron Allston [124]
Luke backed through the blast doors when there was just enough of a gap to accommodate him. They slammed shut, cutting off the torrent of blasterfire.
Ben drove his lightsaber into the control panel and kept shoving, burning a hole clear through to the corresponding panel on the far side.
Luke glanced over at him. “Time to go.”
chapter thirty-seven
Jacen ran through the doors leading to the Command Salon, flashed past nervous, startled officers there, and hurtled to the doors leading into his private office.
His office, with its secret access to the secret quarters—
Allana.
In his office, he slammed open the panel leading to his hidden corridor and slid to a halt in the midst of debris and the wreckage that had once been YVH-908.
Mechanically, he raised his comlink to his lips. “Bridge, report on all vehicles proximate to the Anakin Solo.”
There was no answer but the hiss of static.
He could feel Allana astern, moving away from him, but precise distances and speeds were impossible for him to measure. There was a hole in the floor of his little workshop—that had to be the means by which Allana’s kidnappers had entered. But had they left by the same way, or out his office door? He had to follow, but the wrong choice could cost him precious seconds.
Suddenly gasping for air, he raced back toward his office, toward the access to the corridor there.
ABOARD THE MILLENNIUM FALCON
Jag saw the button light up on the comm board. Instantly he banked the Falcon toward the Anakin Solo, which was at the heart of renewed conflict, its screen of capital ships now beset by Commenori frigates and cruisers.
In the seat behind him, C-3PO made sliding noises as his restraints failed to keep him in place. “I say, sir, I might suggest a more gradual approach.”
Jag nodded. “Good idea. I’ll pass it along to Han.”
“Why, thank you, sir. Though he’s always been reluctant to implement my suggestions.”
Kyle Katarn unstrapped himself from the copilot’s seat. Not inconvenienced by the Falcon’s side-to-side maneuvers, he stood easily. “I’ll be ready at the docking ring.”
Jag nodded absently. “Watch out for lightsabers.”
“Watch out for durasteel rails.” Kyle left.
Ignoring further protests from the protocol droid, Jag angled in toward the Star Destroyer, picking a route that would bring him near the smallest number of starfighter conflicts or capital ship laser battery exchanges. He knew his target zone by diagram and by sight—an air lock on the forward port side, not far from Jacen Solo’s private hangar.
Now all he had to do was navigate through a bewildering field of turbolaser and ion cannon beams to get there alive.
Syal heard the two-tone musical signal over her comm board, followed by her father’s words: “Extraction has begun. All free Rakehells, maneuver to the Anakin Solo’s port side, amidships to bow, and draw off its fire.”
Most of the Rakehells were free. When the Commenori task force had jumped into the conflict, the Rogues and other Alliance starfighter units had largely lost interest in the mystery squadron that seemed to want to fight but had no other evident objective; they broke off and attacked the Commenori capital ships, leaving the Rakehells unencumbered.
Wedge led the remaining starfighters of his squadron into the proximity of the Anakin Solo, skirting just within its firing range, drawing turbolaser fire, responding with quad-linked lasers and the occasional proton torpedo aimed at weapons batteries. Mostly they distracted the Star Destroyer’s gunners and worked to keep themselves alive.
In the midst of all this, the Millennium Falcon flashed by, weaving through a reduced screen of incoming fire, and managed to arrive just above the Destroyer’s hull, too close for its guns to target.
“That boy can fly,” Syal admitted.
There was a trace of pride in Wedge’s reply. “Yes, he can. He should