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“That’s some pretty fancy flying,” Han commented. “Good thing there weren’t more like you when we were fighting the Empire.”

“Thank you, sir,” Devis said. “But we’ve got more company. A lot more.”

Han glanced at the monitor. “We can make one more pass,” he said. “After that it’s going to be way too hot here.”

In fact, he knew, this pass was going to be more than a little warm itself—probably fatally so.

“Wow,” Prann said, gazing out through the Golan II’s viewport. “Look at that. And you wanted us to help them.”

“What?” Jaina said.

“Come here,” Prann said.

She got up and made her slow way to the viewport. They had traded out the webbing they had bound her with for stun cuffs on her hands and feet and a slave collar around her neck. Moreover, the Toydarian was still sticking close to her. Prann didn’t seem too worried that she would try anything.

She reached the viewport, and to her dismay saw what Prann was talking about.

“The rest of the Vong fleet came back,” she said dully.

“Yep. In a few hours your fleet’s going to be scrap metal, and even if we were inclined to lend a hand, I don’t think we could do much good against that many.”

“Don’t try to justify your cowardice to me,” Jaina said. “They’re all going to die, and you’re just going to watch.”

“Watch?” Prann said. “No, I’m going to run. The hyperdrive is ready to go, thanks to your spare parts. Why do you think I dropped the cloak? But it looks like they’ve forgotten us out here, so we’re going to finish running computer simulations. Our cobbled-together drive is a little quirky, and we don’t want to end up in a star.”

“Please,” Jaina said. “If you’ll just listen to me—”

“Solo, I said no. Hey, look at it this way: you’re going to live to tell the uppity-ups what happened here, which no one else is likely to be able to do. You’re going to live, Colonel—and it’s not even your fault.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaina asked.

“It means,” Prann said, leaning over her, “I’ve done a little fighting myself, in my time, and I know your type. Getting dead is your goal in life, and you’ll keep throwing yourself into the fray until it happens. In the meantime, you live in constant disappointment.”

“You don’t know me,” Jaina said. “Don’t pretend you do.”

“Whatever, kid. I’m not going to make an argument out of it. It’s not worth it.”

“Take this station into battle, now!” Jaina said, as dramatically as possible. Prann blinked at her. She felt the Toydarian tense.

“Well,” Prann said. “Nice try.”

Jaina let her face sag in defeat, but inwardly, she conjured a wicked little smile. She’d only lightly nudged Prann with the Force, just enough to let him know she was there.

Because, in the middle of their little discussion, she had found a plan. She wasn’t sure it would work, but it had a better chance of succeeding now than it had a moment ago.

“Pash?” Wedge said.

“Get me General Cracken!”

He’d just seen Memory of Ithor take a series of hard hits, and sensors said its core was going critical.

“Here, Wedge,” the general’s tired voice said a moment later. “Sorry, we’re not going to much help to you from here on out.”

“Just get out of there,” Wedge said.

“We’re evacuating now,” Pash said. “We’ll have to take our chances in escape pods—we’ve got none here. I tried to aim her at one of the interdictors, but she’s not going to make it, I’m afraid.”

“Just take care of yourself, Pash. This isn’t over yet.”

“Good luck, Wedge. Cracken out.”

A few moments later, the Memory flashed out of existence. Wedge hoped Pash made it out, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. The Mothma was limping itself, and it wouldn’t be long before he was sharing his old friend’s fate. Unless something changed, and quickly, they were all going down.

Millennium Falcon and her escort had picked up twenty skips by the time they came into firing range again. The TIEs were staying behind them, drawing fire in an effort to keep them from hitting the Falcon, but plenty of shots were getting through, making it an awfully rough ride.

“Captain