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As he stared out into space he saw the stars ripple along a wide front. Ships began to revert from hyperspace and his heart rate picked up as this happened. He always enjoyed ships entering and leaving Imperial Center space. He took great delight in cataloging them by type and later correlating a sighting with news from the war against the Rebels.

A smile spread across his face as two large ships materialized. He recognized them instantly as Imperial Star Destroyers. As they reverted they executed a turn to starboard, putting them into a geostationary orbit. That’s standard procedure, as the Captains of the Accuser and Adjucator know quite well.

His ability to recognize the two ships pleased him, which is why he wondered about the underlying sense of unease slowly seeping into his heart. About the time one of the long, gently curved Mon Calamari battle cruisers reverted and swung into the line, he recalled the Accuser and Adjucator had both been captured at Endor by the Rebels. The fact that a number of Mon Cal ships were pulling into line with them meant … Needa paled. At the moment of my greatest glory, the Rebels have come to ruin me!

More and more Rebel ships poured from hyperspace. Big ships, small ships, snubfighters, freighters, frigates, and corvettes, each of them pulled into line with the heavier ships. The battle cruisers and destroyers formed a central layer, with ships diminishing in size and strength as they stretched out from equator to pole in the northern hemisphere.

Instantly the black void of space came alive with turbolaser and ion-cannon fire. Toward the bottom of the viewport Needa saw a Golan Space Defense station. The lozenge-shaped platform launched spread after spread of proton torpedoes while its turbolaser batteries sprayed green energy projectiles at the invaders. The return fire it took splashed harmlessly against its shields, or so it seemed at first, though Needa noticed the shield sphere slowly shrinking.

This cannot be! He turned from the viewport, raking fingers back through brown hair. “To your battle stations, men! The enemy is upon us!”

Pedetsen looked up from the sabacc game. “Begging your pardon, sir, but a mirror doesn’t have battle stations.”

Needa’s jaw worked up and down a couple of times as he mulled over the cadet’s comment. True, but we must do something. “Arm yourselves. We won’t go down without a fight.”

The darkness in the computer center only lasted for a couple of seconds, but it seemed like eons to Wedge. It was time enough for remnants of childhood fears of darkness to meld with adult fears of failure. The darkness left him blind and opened the doorway to any number of possible and horrible futures. For all he knew the power to the subsidiary computer center had been severed by Imperial stormtroopers who were even now preparing to enter the room and resume control of the facility.

The lights came back up again. The holographic map wavered and popped, then stabilized. Elation filled him for a moment, then he realized that having power available meant failure. Or does it? “Why do we have power?”

Winter hit two keys on the datapad. “Reserve generators came on-line here after the external power was cut.”

“And power is down? And the shields?”

She hit more keys and the map expanded up from the tactical one showing the Palace district to the orbital one showing the planet as a whole. There was no indication of shields anywhere. “They’re down.”

Wedge keyed his comlink. “Corran, you did it.”

“I just aimed, Wedge, you sliced the victory together.”

“We can argue who gets stuck with credit later. Be careful, you still have TIEs flying around you.”

“They’re all vectoring up, Wedge.”

“What?”

“We have company.”

Wedge pointed to Winter. “Slice me into Traffic Control. I want to see what’s orbiting out there.”

“Will do.” Winter’s fingers flew over the keys and the sphere that was Coruscant suddenly became surrounded by a shell of orbiting stations, satellites, and ships.