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“Commander, the signal just came through. Helot’s Shackle has just undocked from the Ylesian station.”

Bria nodded, then turned to the platoon leader. “First wave, board your shuttles. Second wave … stand by.”

The deck reverberated to the pound of running feet as the thirty troopers scrambled into their respective shuttles.

Bria keyed in her personal frequency. “Attention, Crimson Fury, this is Red Hand Leader.”

“Go ahead, Bed Hand.”

“Prepare your ships to microjump in three minutes. Retribution will be right behind you.”

“Copy that, Red Hand Leader. Preparing for microjump.”

Quickly Bria and Daino Hyx left the shuttle fighter launch bay, took the turbolift up, then jogged forward until they reached the bridge. The ship’s captain looked up as they entered. Bria slipped into a seat behind the tactical schematic. From her station she could also see the viewscreens. “Captain Bjalin,” she said. “Ten seconds after the last of the Y-wings has jumped, we will jump.”

“Yes, Commander,” Bjalin said. Tedris Bjalin was a tall young man whose hairline was receding, despite his youth. He’d joined the Corellian resistance just recently, after his entire family had been murdered during the Imperial massacre on Tyshapahl. Before that time, he’d been an Imperial lieutenant. His Imperial training had served him in good stead, earning him a promotion in the Rebel forces. He was an able officer, a decent man, who’d told Bria that he’d already been thinking of deserting the Imperial Navy when his family had been murdered. That had pushed him over the edge.

Bria watched tensely as the seconds counted down, and, two by two, the six Y-wings jumped into hyperspace. Then the starlines stretched out before them, as Retribution jumped, too.

The moment they arrived back in realspace, Retribution opened her shuttle bays and the first wave of boarding shuttles launched. They approached Helot’s Shackle at half speed, behind the Y-wings, which were barreling in at full speed.

Bria watched with satisfaction as the first pair of Y-wings streaked toward the Corellian corvette, firing salvos of two proton torpedoes each, targeting the stern and amidships. Their goal was not to blow a hole in Helot’s Shackle, but to take down the shields without harming the vessel unduly. Bria intended to take the Shackle intact and bring it back to be added into the Rebel fleet. One of the shuttles in the second wave would be carrying a prize crew, consisting of computer techs, engineers, a pilot and damage control and repair teams.

Bria would not have minded catching Helot’s Shackle unprepared, but she wasn’t counting on that, and wasn’t surprised to find that the corvette was traveling with its shields up. As the Y-wings hurtled in, the big ship opened fire, but the agile Y-wings easily evaded its blasts. Retribution stayed carefully out of range of its fire.

As Bria watched, the four proton torpedoes launched by the Y-wings flashed blue-white, impacted against the shields, and splashed over the slaver’s hull without penetrating the defenses. The first pair of Y-wings peeled away and went circling back in case they were needed again.

Helot’s Shackle blasted away again, and this time one of its shots grazed one of the Y-wings—a minor hit, but enough to put the fighter out of the action.

Bria was figuring it would take four proton torpedoes to bring down the Shackle’s shields. The second pair of Y-wings went streaking in, and the first fired.

This time the blue-white burst spread out, then, suddenly, there was a visible impact against the side of the vessel. A blackened streak marred the armor.

“That’s it!” Bria said, and keyed the comm unit, addressed her Y-wing team leader. “Crimson Fury, good work! Shields are down! Now let’s use those ion cannons of yours to finish ’em! Warn your ships to take evasive! We don’t want any more hits!”

“Copy that, Red Hand Leader. Targeting sensor suites and solar fin. Starting our runs now.”

The Y-wing pairs began strafing the Helot’s Shackle, firing their turreted ion cannons at the preassigned