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Harrar’s villip spoke. “No doubt your misguided operatives are aware of our presence. When they realize that they are unable to launch, they will wonder why you aren’t coming to their assistance and they may attempt contact.”

“Let them wonder,” Nom Anor snapped. “I’m only interested in persuading the New Republic to conclude that the actions of the Peace Brigade are simply another attempt on our part to retrieve Elan.”

He was interrupted by his second on the bridge, fists snapped to opposite shoulders in apology for the intrusion.

“A ship emerging from hyperspace, Executor.” The subaltern pointed out the viewport in the direction of the nearby primary. “Our signal villip identifies it as a New Republic cruiser-carrier.”

Nom Anor addressed the villips. “The arrival of that vessel should simplify matters. As suggested, I will position the dovin basal in a remote. The Peace Brigade will attempt to flee and be apprehended, and Elan will remain in custody.”

He swung to the bridge officer. “Make ready to engage the enemy’s starfighters, as well. You may disapprove of this, Subaltern, but you’re going to have to make it appear as if you were chased off. You have my word that your losses will not be held against you.”

TWENTY-FOUR

Still recovering from the bruising it had taken at the battle of Ord Mantell, the cruiser-carrier Thurse winked into realspace at the Rimward edge of the Bilbringi system, X-wings tumbling from her launch bays like bedevilers from an agitated nest. Between the cruiser and the distant blip that authenticators had recognized as a Yuuzhan Vong warship floated the Queen of Empire, with what appeared to be a seasoned corvette nursing at one of the starliner’s airlocks.

Apex of the fighter formation that gradually assumed shape, Wing Commander Kol Eyttyn chinned the helmet switch that opened the command net.

“Thurse, we have visual on the Yuuzhan Vong ship. Low-profile coral oval. Looks to be frigate class or thereabouts. Reminds me of the stones I’d skim across water in the carefree days of my youth.”

“Let’s see that it doesn’t come skimming this way, Commander,” the voice of the cruiser-carrier’s captain said in his left ear.

“That’s affirmative.”

Screen chatter from the R2 unit socketed behind the cockpit canopy told him that short-range scans had picked up a flock of Yuuzhan Vong fighters—skips. Eyttyn chinned open the tactical net.

“Blips are enemy vessels, coralskipper designation,” he told the pilots of the gathered squadrons. “Enable countermeasures and deflector shields. Inertial compensators to maximum boost. Keep in mind we’re sacrificing laser yield for increased bursts. That means mixing it up at close quarters, so listen to your group leaders and stick to your wingmates.”

Eyttyn called on the life-maintenance system controls to expand the starfighter’s inertial compensator field. While the volume of protection afforded by the enhanced field had been determined to be sufficient for tricking the compensator into treating Yuuzhan Vong–created gravitic anomalies like any others, the field could be overwhelmed by large dovin basals or a confluence of singularities, such as might easily be fashioned by three or more skips.

The same held true for the sensor database package developed in the wake of engagements in the Outer Rim. While the retrofitted tracking adjunct augmented a pilot’s ability to target coralskippers, substantial variations in the size and shape of the fighters limited the effectiveness of the array. As ever, an X-wing was only as good as its pilot and droid.

Eyttyn increased the gain on the sensors and, with his thumb, flicked weapons control to lasers, quadding them up so all four would fire with a single squeeze of the stick’s trigger.

“Red and Green Squadrons will lay back to deal with assaults directed at the Thurse. Blue will form up behind me to take the fight to the command ship. All other squadrons will break on my command.”

Eyttyn tightened his seat harness and waited for the droid to affirm that the coralskipper