Star Wars_ The Jedi Academy_ Champions of the Force - Kevin J. Anderson [96]
“At all costs,” the captain repeated, “clearly means we should forfeit the Installation itself rather than let the Rebels have access to our work.”
“Well,” Doxin said, “it would give us another opportunity to fire the superlaser for the good of the Empire.” He raised his wire-thin eyebrows so that his scalp furrowed like treadmarks across a sand dune.
Yemm, the Devaronian, continued to flip through paragraph after paragraph of the procedures on his datapad, studying the terminology. “I see nothing to contradict the captain’s assessment, Director Sivron,” he said.
“All right, the resolution has passed,” Sivron said. “We shall direct the prototype back into the Maw, using our previous flight path. Captain, take care of the details.”
“Yes, sir,” the stormtrooper captain said.
“So that’s all settled, then,” Tol Sivron said, clacking his long claws on the tabletop. “If we have no new business, the meeting is adjourned.”
Everyone stood to leave, brushing their uniforms and stepping away from the table.
Tol Sivron looked at the small chronometer; barely two hours had passed. He blinked his beady eyes in surprise. This had been one of his shortest meetings ever.
35
Threepio’s dizzying preoccupation with battle configurations and tactics and ships swarming around the five gamma assault shuttles absorbed all his concentration. He forgot entirely about his dread.
The Gorgon cruised ominously overhead, firing down on the Installation or shooting across at the New Republic ships.
Chewbacca growled, squinting his fur-rimmed eyes to study the Star Destroyer’s firing pattern. He chuffed and grunted an idea to Threepio and, without waiting for a response, opened the tight-beam ship-to-ship communications systems.
Chewbacca spoke rapidly in the Wookiee language, which Threepio decided was a tactically wise thing to do. Although he himself was a protocol droid and understood more than six million forms of communication, he doubted that anyone on the Gorgon would know what Chewbacca was saying.
Even as acknowledgment came from the Wookiee pilots in the other assault shuttles, Threepio broke away from his full concentration to speak to the Wookiee. “I simply don’t see how we can possibly take out all of the starboard turbolaser banks on the Star Destroyer. It’s suicide. Why don’t we wait for more fighters from the New Republic ships? I think that would be by far the safest strategy.”
Chewbacca snarled, and Threepio decided it was unwise to press the point any further.
A combat wing of TIE fighters soared past them, firing bursts from their laser cannons. One of the assault shuttles passed into the crossfire, and as Threepio reconstructed the images an instant later, he determined that it received eight direct hits within two seconds. Its shields failed. Hull plates buckled, and the shuttle exploded as the TIE fighters roared past to face the X-wings and Y-wings pouring from the New Republic battleships.
Chewbacca let out a grief-stricken roar at seeing some of his newly rescued friends die. The cry was echoed across the comm system by the other Wookiees.
With the explosion Threepio experienced a sudden disorientation; he had been partially linked to the destroyed ship. It felt as if a part of him had been disconnected.
“Oh, dear!” he said, then shifted his concentration to managing the other shuttles. “Chewbacca, you have my complete support. We simply cannot allow them to do this sort of thing.”
Chewbacca roared agreement and gave Threepio a comradely slap on the back that practically sent the droid through the control panels.
A tiny streak of light shot past them, and Threepio was able to freeze the image in his optical sensors: it was the angular crystalline shape of a tiny two-man ship. He recognized it instantly.
“Oh, my, isn’t that the Sun Crusher?” Threepio asked.
Preoccupied,