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Cilghal seemed to have gone into a kind of a trance. Leia wondered if the shock had numbed her. The ambassador stood before the orbital images of swarming fighters, both the B-wing defenders and TIE attackers. She reached out with her fingers, touching seemingly random blips of light.

“This one, now this one … now this one,” she said. Barely a moment after she touched each one, the screen flared bright, marking the destruction of the indicated ships.

Leia was amazed, unable to believe that Cilghal could pick them so accurately. But with the fledgling abilities Luke had taught her, Leia could feel a tug in the female ambassador, an instinctive working of the Force. She asked, already suspecting the answer, “How are you doing that?”

“Just like with the school of fish,” Cilghal said quietly. “It’s only a trick—but I wish I could get in contact with our fighters. This one, this one!” With a long finger she traced one of the B-wing fighters that seemed perfectly safe in the midst of its own squadron, but then a damaged TIE fighter out of control spiraled through the group of ships and impacted the doomed B-wing. Cilghal had done the same thing with the school of fish as the krakana monster fed.

The female ambassador looked astonished and stricken. “There’s not enough time,” she said. “I can’t figure it out soon enough.”

Despite the fury of the Imperial attack, Leia felt a thread of wonder pass through her. Even without further testing, she knew that Cilghal had the potential to use her powers as a Jedi. Leia would have to send Cilghal to Luke’s training center on Yavin 4—if they somehow survived here.

Ackbar felt as if he were part of the massive derelict ship as he controlled it from the core of Foamwander City. He paid no attention to the loud status reports and alarms in Central Command. His entire body was an extension of the Startide, and he stared through sensor eyes.

Its engines added velocity to the great hulk. Calamari’s moon grew larger as he approached it, then began to streak by close to the airless cratered surface and out of sensor range to the dark side of the moon. Where the third Star Destroyer lay in wait.

Ackbar powered up the Startide’s hyperdrive reactors and shut off the automatic coolant systems. Alarms ran through his body as the ship’s warning routines screamed at him. But Ackbar increased the power output, trying to hold it in, restraining the seething energy that waited to explode from the great uncompleted battleship.

As he brought the Startide around the curve of the moon, Ackbar saw the arrowhead shape of a third Star Destroyer just powering up its weapons batteries. “There it is.”

The third Star Destroyer suddenly detected the Mon Calamari battle cruiser and began unleashing a flurry of turbolaser bolts—but Ackbar didn’t care.

One of the blasts detonated a joint in the spacedock framework surrounding the Startide, and a network of girders dropped into space. Molten droplets flew from the starboard flank where a direct hit vaporized part of the hull.

Ackbar drove on at full speed on his suicide run, heading directly down the Star Destroyer’s throat. The Imperial ship continued to fire.

Ackbar released the last safety mechanisms that held the unshielded hyperdrive reactor in check. The superheated energy furnace would reach its flash point within seconds.

He disconnected himself from the command console and let the laws of physics take their course.

Admiral Daala shouted into the comm system. “Captain Brusc, tell me what’s going on!”

The Manticore had just begun its triumphant run to destroy the Calamarian shipyards when all havoc broke loose. Alarms interrupted her transmission.

The captain scrambled and shouted orders. “It’s another ship, Admiral!” Brusc said, flashing a glance and wanting to bark orders, yet not quite daring to ignore Daala. “It came out of nowhere. They must have known we were here.”

“Impossible,” Daala said. “They couldn’t have known we were there. We left no sensor trace. Ops! Give me the Manticore’s tactical sensors.