Star Wars_ X-Wing 06_ Iron Fist - Aaron Allston [124]
Then they were beyond the first wave of enemies, the first half squad.
Their enemies expected them to break and dogfight with that first wave. But Wedge’s tactic—Kettch’s Drill—took them straight forward, at full speed, toward the second wave, a full squadron of TIEs. He saw on the sensor board the four survivors of the first wave curve around to get into position behind them, but their maneuver was a little slow, a little tentative, as they adjusted to the Hawk-bats doing something unexpected.
The second wave was in range. Wedge continued juking around, opened fire, saw lasers spraying from the solar wing arrays of Dia’s interceptor to his starboard. Return fire streaked the starfield green all around him and he felt a shudder as one laser blast creased his hull. An unfamiliar sensation, and once again he wished devoutly for a return to his X-wing and its shields.
His fire and Dia’s converged on a luckless TIE fighter. The craft exploded into a ball of incandescent gas and superheated shrapnel. Their two flight paths curved around it as they plunged into the second wave and beyond.
Sensors showed the four TIEs of the first wave closing in and several starfighters of the second wave curving around to join them. He smiled. The plan was operating perfectly so far. Yes, they had a squad and a half of fighters on their tails, but the forward momentum of Mauler’s squadrons was slowing.
The Hawk-bats were doing their job. They were serving Zsinj well. Amused, he shook that thought away and returned his concentration to the third wave of enemies.
These they dove straight toward, each picking a target and maneuvering straight into that TIE’s path, juking around enough to be a difficult target yet always homing in on the oncoming starfighter as if meaning to ram it. Wedge’s continued fire hulled his target and he flew through the debris cloud, hearing clattering and banging against his hull as he did. On the sensor board, he saw Dia’s target veer away from her at the last second, arcing away straight into the path of a vengeful TIE from the first wave. The sensors showed the two blips merge into one, then disappear altogether.
Ahead, the fourth wave, a half squadron. Wedge saw Face lead the abandonment of Kettch’s Drill, looping up and back the way the Hawk-bats had come, the other Hawk-bats joining him in formation, three not-quite-full squadrons of TIEs following in vengeful pursuit.
In full TIE-fighter-pilot regalia, which she had found in a pilot’s ready room adjacent to the secondary hangar bay, and carrying extra life-support units, Shalla lurked on the walkway above the bay’s pair of TIE interceptors.
She should have been safely tucked away in an escape pod by now. But with her mission accomplished, another idea had occurred to her … thus the dangerous three-kilometer trek back to the bay by which she’d arrived, thus the trail of unconscious foes along the hallways and passages she’d chosen for her return trip.
Thus this skulking on the walkway. Beyond the Magnetic-containment field she could see signs of distant battle: tiny flashes and slivers of light, their sources too far away to make out.
Stormtroopers, Kuat loyalists probably wondering what to do about the ship’s extraordinary activities, had entered the bay mere seconds after she had and were hard at work rummaging through the intrusion team’s shuttle. Others guarded the door into the bay. No matter; that wasn’t the way she intended to exit. She climbed down into the left-hand interceptor, the one closest to the bulkhead and farthest from the stormtroopers. Without belting in, she began her prelaunch checklist. It was longer than usual—this interceptor, obviously a commanding officer’s personal