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The blast doors buckled inward, dented and glowing cherry-red as continued laser fire melted away the outer armor, chewing into the super-dense metal core. The doors bent as she watched; a split appeared in the middle.

Articulated claws pushed through the opening. Laser strikes continued around the attachment bolts until the left-side door twisted. The other door hung askew in its track.

Whistling wind shrieked into the landing grotto as Winter stood ready to face the assault.

With a whir of straining engines, the Spider Walkers clambered into the chamber, bristling with weapons and manned by crack stormtroopers.

• • •

The Dreadnaught Vendetta maintained its position in orbit. Colonel Ardax touched his fingertips to the voice pickup in his ear, listening to the report from the assault team on the planetoid below.

“We have succeeded in breaching the blast doors, Colonel,” the stormtrooper commander said into the radio. “Losses have been heavy. Rebel defenses are stronger than anticipated. We are proceeding with caution, but we expect to have the Jedi child in hand shortly.”

“Keep me updated,” Ardax said. “Report to me when the mission is completed, and we will arrange for pickup.” He paused. “Was Ambassador Furgan one of the casualties?”

“No, sir,” the stormtrooper said. “He was in the rearmost assault transport and faced no direct danger.”

Colonel Ardax signed off. “A pity.”

Ardax was looking out at the three locked planetoids when sudden alarms rang through the Vendetta’s control deck. “What’s that?”

A lieutenant looked up from his sensor station, his face ashen. “Sir, a Rebel battleship has just come out of hyperspace! It outguns us by a substantial margin.”

“Prepare to take evasive action,” Colonel Ardax said. “It appears that we’ve been betrayed.” He drew a cold breath through gritted teeth. Furgan must have somehow given away their plans to Rebel spies.

The wide communications screen sizzled with gray static that resolved into the image of a fish-headed Calamarian. “This is Ackbar, in command of the star cruiser Galactic Voyager. Surrender and prepare to be boarded. Any New Republic hostages you have taken must be returned unharmed.”

“Reply, Colonel?” the communications officer said.

“Our silence is enough of an answer,” Ardax said. “Right now our primary objective is to survive. The surface team is forfeit. Set course to fly between the two close components of Anoth. The electrical discharges will mask us from their sensors, and from that point we can escape into hyperspace. Shields at maximum.”

“Yes, sir,” the tactical officer said. The navigator set a course.

“Full speed ahead when ready,” Colonel Ardax said. He paced on the control deck.

With a lurch the Vendetta accelerated toward the broken planet. The Rebel battleship fired at them. The Dreadnaught rattled and shook as heavy explosions struck its shields.

“They outgun us, sir, but they are aiming to disable, not to destroy.”

Colonel Ardax raised his eyebrows. “Ah, of course—they think we’ve got the child already! Let’s not convince them otherwise.”

The Vendetta sped into the grinding jaws of the broken world.

Leia squeezed until her nails bit into the smooth fabric of Ackbar’s command chair on the Galactic Voyager. The battered old Dreadnaught wheeled in its orbit and set a new course. “They’re calling your bluff, Admiral,” she said.

“They are not responding,” Ackbar agreed.

“They won’t respond,” Terpfen said, sullen at an auxiliary station. “They will run. If they already have the baby, there is nothing to keep them here. They won’t risk a fight against a superior battleship.”

Leia swallowed, knowing Terpfen was right. She wished Han could be beside her right now.

“Then we must not let them get away,” Ackbar said. He had stuck close to Terpfen’s side throughout the journey. During the mustering of the rescue force, Ackbar had snatched the most loyal members of his salvage crew on Reef Home City; he had gathered others from the starship construction