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“I will gladly submit to an internal inspection,” C-3PO said.

“You know what I mean. Go.”

“Yes, sir.” The droid had a noticeable quaver in his voice.

Jacen pushed out, plugged in a portable power source, and cycled the inner lock. It closed under protest, its hydraulics used to a more robust diet of electrons.

He made his way to where his mother was keeping watch from the cockpit.

“All quiet?” he asked.

“For now. Surely they must know something has gone wrong, though.”

“Maybe, maybe not. We don’t know what their procedures are in situations like this. Yuuzhan Vong warriors are proud—maybe they’re giving these first guys every chance to deal with the situation before sending reinforcements. Maybe they’re so confident we can’t get away they aren’t really paying attention. We’re about to see how closely they’re watching, anyway. I just sent some concussion missiles floating their way. With any luck, they’ll think it’s flotsam until it’s too late.” He concentrated briefly. “There. The first is away.”

C-3PO was slow. It was a good five minutes before he got the next one out. The third took even longer. Jacen didn’t stay to watch. He went down and finished welding auxiliary plating over the holes the Yuuzhan Vong had cut into their ship. It was too thin to have a good chance of holding, but it was all they had at the moment that might do. It would at least give them a few minutes. If worse came to worst—and neither this nor his other plan worked—they could always seal off the cockpit or put on vac suits. Of course, then they had to find a habitable planet or space station, fast.

His father came drifting up from beneath. “Are we ready?” he asked.

“As we’ll be,” Jacen replied.

“Let’s go forward and give it a try, then,” Han said. “The Yuuzhan Vong won’t wait on us forever.”

When they rejoined Leia in the cockpit, however, the enemy ship was still quiet.

Jacen activated the intercom. “How’s it going, Threepio?”

“Dreadful, sir. I have two more to go.”

“More coralskippers detaching,” Leia observed suddenly.

“Negative, Threepio,” Jacen said. “Get out of there, now.”

“With pleasure, sir.”

“Ready, everyone?” Han asked.

“Go,” Leia replied.

Han worked his fingers across the instruments, and with a sudden snap, gravity reasserted itself. Jacen’s stomach settled back where it was supposed to be, and he felt a wave of dizziness.

“Hang on.” Han engaged maneuvering thrusters, and the Falcon began spinning like a coin on its side.

Jacen craned for visibility. Below and above, at the extreme edge of his vision, he could make out the coralskippers, still stationary. The living couplings were cinched in the middle, like balloons twisted and tied, and they were still twisting.

“Four times around is going to have to be good enough. Where are your missiles?” “The first one is ready to go.”

“Good thing I had the launchers reinstalled, I guess. Send the detonation signal on three. One, two—”

Jacen held his breath as he keyed the signal on three and blew it out when the distant concussion missile became a small white nova. At the same moment, Han kicked space with the ion drive, and they were going, as only the Millennium Falcon could go. The attached coralskippers whipped out behind them like braids, and Jacen couldn’t see them anymore.

“They’re trying to get a lock with their dovin basals,” Leia reported.

“Jacen!”

“Yes, sir!” Jacen sent another signal, and the remaining missiles surged to life, burning their propellant cores and hurling their noses at the Yuuzhan Vong ship. Gravitic anomalies appeared and sucked all but one in, but the fourth impacted in a brilliant display.

“They blinked!” Leia whooped. “They missed their lock. Han, get us out of here!”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

The ship suddenly shuddered and yawed.

“What was that? What hit us?” Han demanded, just as it happened again.

“The coralskippers tearing loose,” Jacen replied. “And speaking of coralskippers, there are a couple headed our way. I’m going down to the turbolaser.”

“Forget