Star Wars_ X-Wing 06_ Iron Fist - Aaron Allston [133]
“The rest of our group?” Wedge asked.
“Coming up fast in their wake.”
“Please inform them that if they’re very nice, maybe we’ll leave them something to shoot at.”
Han Solo watched the universe tilt through the viewports as Mon Remonda turned on its intercept course.
He could feel Captain Onoma’s eyes on him. He turned to the captain and shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “Save your fire. This is going to be a slugging match.”
“You sound regretful.”
“I hate slugging matches.”
Piggy activated his power-on sequence.
Nothing happened. The fighter’s interior remained dark and silent.
Shalla’s sensors showed four squadrons of starfighters approaching.
When should she act? The later she made her assault on the shield projectors, the better it would be for her unit. But she knew her fellow pilots had to be suffering, approaching without any knowledge of whether she’d be able to accomplish her task.
She calculated their rate of approach based on sensor data. When they were thirty seconds short of firing range, she activated her repulsorlifts, bringing her interceptor up a mere meter above the deck of Razor’s Kiss and well back from the domes. She swung toward the starboard shield projector dome and fired.
The dome blew apart in an impressive display of flaming gas and metal shards; she heard shrapnel bounce off her hull. She rotated and fired again, obliterating the second projector with similar finality.
Then she settled down again atop the rubbish-strewn tower. She’d wait a moment to launch—wait until space was crowded and confused, when she wouldn’t be such an easy target.
• • •
“Razor’s Kiss reports catastrophic failure of topside shield generators!”
Zsinj stared at the captain as though the man had suddenly grown a Devaronian’s horns and teeth. “Tell me you’re lying.”
The captain shook his head helplessly.
Zsinj slammed his hands on the nearest bulkhead. “Change course to eight-five. Tell Razor’s Kiss to follow closely and use us for protection from Mon Remonda. Calculate a new jump on that course and initiate it as soon as possible.” He looked at Melvar. “Launch all fighters.”
Wedge’s sensor board showed the second Super Star Destroyer’s topside shields evaporating. It displayed the information without emotion, without understanding of how that fact made the pilots’ hearts jump.
“All squadrons, this is Wraith Leader. Prepare for strafing run on the second Destroyer. Ignore Iron Fist for now. X-wings, B-wings, commence with proton torpedoes. Save some for the engines.” Wedge heeled over, changing course toward the second destroyer, and sent up a silent cheer for Shalla.
Iron Fist surged forward, her bow guns opening up on the oncoming starfighters, and began a slow maneuver to starboard as the second destroyer dropped back behind her. Wedge adjusted course, bringing his squadrons up over Iron Fist’s bow at a considerable altitude.
And then they were in the midst of it, ion cannons sending energy washes between them, laser batteries making space brilliant all around them. Wedge felt hair stand up all over his body as an ion blast came too close; his cockpit lights dimmed, but the computer and his R5 astromech did not suffer power loss. He heard one cry over the comlink—the cry of a survivor who’d just seen a wingman evaporate; Polearm Five disappeared off the sensor board.
Then they were past Iron Fist, the ship’s horrendous field of damage tracking and following them, and the second Destroyer’s guns opened up.
But now they could reply. “Fire at will,” Wedge commanded, and some of the starfighters were launching proton torpedoes before he had the second word out. Faint blue trails leaped out from the starfighters, homing in on the Destroyer’s bow, detonating split seconds later in huge balls of incendiary destruction.
Ahead, a tiny spark—ion-engine emissions—leaped off the command tower, then curved around in front of that projection and opened fire. Minuscule needles of green flashed between it and the destroyer’s bridge … and Wedge watched as the bridge viewports blew in, then