• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“Yes, sir.”

“And order the wedge to accelerate to full speed. We are starting our attack.”

“Yes, sir!”

Greelanx checked the status of his squadron again. He was impressed by the smugglers’ tenacity. He’d expected them to break and run before now. But they were still fighting, and doing significant damage to his skirmish vessels.

Still, losing wasn’t going to be easy. The smugglers were fighting bravely, granted, but those little freighters were no match for his capital ships. Greelanx sighed. It was possible that he’d have to order one of his ships to do something that would be guaranteed to cause its destruction.

The admiral swallowed another sip of tea, feeling as though a fist were closing around his throat. He’d sent troops to their deaths before, many times, but never on purpose. He wasn’t sure he could do it …

But what choice did he have?

They’re making their move! Accelerating to attack speed! Mako realized as he stared into his sensors. He keyed his comm to a special, private frequency. “Han, Mako here. You read me?”

“Yeah, Mako,” came the voice of his friend, garbled but understandable. “I read you. What’s happening?”

“Greelanx is starting his move with his capital ships. I’m going to order the retreat. Do me a favor, pal?”

“Sure.”

“You and Chewie play rear guard during the retreat. Hang back and ride herd on those spacebums, okay? Keep ’em on track, Han. Don’t let ’em go too slow, but keep on their tails about goin’ too fast. We want those Imps following right on their heels.”

“Will do,” Han said. “How’re we doing?”

“Overall, not bad. But we’ve lost some friends.”

“I know. I’ve seen wreckage,” Han agreed, sounding bleak.

“Mako out.”

Mako keyed in another special frequency. “Captain Renthal?”

“Renthal here.”

“I’m going to order the retreat now. Be ready.”

“We are ready. I’ll recall Minestra.”

“What about Too Late Now?”

“She’s gone.”

“Oh …”

“Renthal out.”

Mako keyed his general frequency. “Boys and girls, this is Defender Central. You done good, fellow spacebums. Now it’s time to leave the party. All vessels, retreat along assigned vector. Remember your drills. Repeat, you are to retreat along your assigned vector, starting now. Defender Central out.”

Xaverri stood in a cordoned-off section in Shug Ninx’s spacebarn, intent on the tactical display she was receiving, transmitted by Dragon Pearl. She watched as the smugglers turned tail and raced away from the oncoming Imperial capital ships and remaining skirmish vessels. Her friends were fleeing in what seemed to be a panicked rout, but was, in actuality, a carefully coordinated and rehearsed withdrawal under fire. Mako and Han had drilled and drilled them in just how far they should stay ahead of the Imperial vessels—tantalizingly within weapons range, so the “stragglers” would have to take evasive maneuvers to avoid being blasted if the Imperials got lucky.

The magician licked her lips in anticipation, thinking that this was her big chance, the chance to wipe out more Imps at one time than she’d probably ever get again.

That’s right, she thought, watching the wedge move closer and closer to the Illusion Point coordinates. That’s right, come along, chase them, yes, chase them right into the trap …

Poised like a hunting Togorian, she stared fiercely into the tactical display until her eyes burned and she was forced to blink.

When her vision cleared, there they were! The entire capital wedge was right in the middle of the IP coordinates!

Xaverri grinned, a predatory smile that had nothing pleasant about it. She activated her comm, spoke on a special frequency. “Mako, Xaverri here.”

“This is Mako. Xaverri, I read you.”

“Activating illusion … now,” she said, and broke contact. Then, slowly, deliberately, she pressed the big red button on her console, the one marked, DON’T TOUCH UNLESS YOU’RE XAVERRI!

“Now you die,” she whispered.

Imperial Destiny rounded the limb of Nar Shaddaa, swinging wide as ordered, in order to avoid the floating debris surrounding the Smuggler’s Moon. As it did so, Admiral Greelanx could