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“See if you can reroute the power,” Han said, wishing Leia were in that seat, despite what he’d said earlier.

“Can’t keep them off,” Devis said. “I’ve lost my shields.”

“Thanks for the help,” Han told him. “I can handle it from here. You just get clear.” He fired off the last of his concussion missiles, blowing another gouge in the interdictor, and focused his quad lasers on the hole. Yorik coral churned and evaporated. He dropped even lower, hoping a void didn’t get him, and continued to strafe.

An enormous explosion rocked the ship.

“What was that?” he asked of everyone and no one in particular.

“My wingmate,” Devis replied. His voice had a rattling quality to it. “He took a direct hit.”

“You’re still back there?” Han snapped. “Get out! Make sure Pellaeon is coming!”

“A little late for that, I’m afraid,” Devis said. “But maybe I can still be of service. It was a great honor flying with you, Captain Solo. Tell … tell Admiral Pellaeon I did what I thought was best.”

“Devis, what are you—”

But then the TIE came screaming by on his starboard. It was spinning as if it had lost a stabilizer, but somehow the kid had still managed to aim it. It smacked into the interdictor like a meteor, blasting off a chunk of yorik coral almost the size of the Falcon and leaving an incandescent hole. Atmosphere blew out into the void, along with a few figures that could only be Yuuzhan Vong.

Han pulled up, pulling a few skips through the explosion as he did so.

“Threepio?” he demanded.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the droid said. “The interdictor is still functioning.”

Which means it was all for nothing, kid, Han thought. He realized he didn’t even know what Devis had looked like.

“Han, what’s happening?” Leia’s voice drifted up.

“Nothing,” he said. “We’ve lost the TIEs and the interdictor is still on-line. If we make another pass, they’ll bring us down for sure.”

“If we don’t—”

“Yeah, I know,” Han said. “Even if Pellaeon comes, it’ll be too little, too late. So we make another pass, right?”

“Right.”

“Right.” He spun the ship in a vicious roll that brought the interdictor back into view. “I love you, sweetheart,” he said.

“I love you too, you old pirate.”

“Okay,” Prann said, “looks like we’re ready, guys. I’m laying in the final calculations.”

This is it, Jaina thought. She reached out through the Force, subtly, not taking control, but instead substituting her own coordinates for the ones Prann thought he was entering. She didn’t have much skill controlling minds through the Force, and like Jacen she didn’t think much of the practice.

But this time there was no choice.

One-one-two, not aught-aught-two, she thought at Prann. Aught-nine-one, not one-one-nine. Everything else is right, it’s perfect, the best jump ever calculated, and then you’ll be home, rich, safe from the Vong forever. She couldn’t change the jump much, or he would notice. But she didn’t need to.

“Hey,” the Toydarian said. He must have noticed her look of concentration. “What are you doing? Stop it, or I shoot your hand off.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Jaina said, desperately trying to keep up her monologue through the Force. “What could I be doing?”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Prann said. “Here we go.”

He pulled back on the jump lever, and they went.

“What in the—” Han yanked back on the stick, pulling the Falcon out of her dive and just whispering by the huge object that had appeared in his path.

“Just when you think things can’t get worse—”

“Sir! Sir!” C-3PO shouted. “It’s a Golan Two Battle Station. Where in the galaxy could that have come from?”

“A Golan?…”

“We’re saved!”

* * *

“What—what happened?” Prann shrieked.

“You tried to jump through an interdictor,” Jaina replied. “It didn’t work.”

“I did not! I set the jump in exactly the opposite direction.”

“Yes, well, obviously you didn’t.”

Prann leapt up, pulling his blaster. “You did this. Somehow you got in my head—”

“Listen to me, Prann,” Jaina snapped. “You’re interdicted. They have a solid read