Star Wars_ X-Wing 07_ Solo Command - Aaron Allston [124]
Lara rolled her chair back to get a look at the sensor officer’s terminal screen. It was filled with red blips, outnumbering Zsinj’s group more than three to one.
“Return to original course,” Zsinj shouted. His face was red. “Prepare for hyperspace. Signal the group. Inform Groups Two and Three. Tell them our situation and instruct them to stand by to jump to the abort rendezvous locations.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lara rolled back into place and nudged the technician next to her, an Intelligence operative dedicated to analyzing patterns in comm traffic. “Why is he running?” she asked. “They outnumber us, but they couldn’t possibly destroy us before the rest of our fleet jumps in.”
The analyst gave her a look of scorn. “Zsinj’s doctrine,” he said. “No matter what the odds look like, if the enemy has chosen the battleground, he has more resources than we’re aware of. It becomes imperative to choose a new battlefield, one the enemy can’t have prepared. Don’t mistake that for cowardice.”
“I never would have, sir.” She returned her attention to her terminal, then typed a command, sixteen characters of gibberish, into her keyboard, and sent the command.
Somewhere under the floor beneath her, a utility droid that was spliced into the data cables should be intercepting the command, interpreting it, then switching the terminal over from its analysis duties to a direct connection with her quarters—a connection the ship’s computer was not set up to monitor.
HELLO, KIRNEY.
She donned a set of goggles and plugged it into the terminal. “Hello, Tonin,” she whispered. “Are we set to disable the hyperdrive?”
His next transmission showed up on her goggles, YES. BUT FROM THE MOMENT YOU ISSUE THE COMMAND, IT WILL TAKE A FEW MINUTES TO TAKE EFFECT.
“Understood. On my command, we pin him in place and make our run for it. Three, two, one—”
“Sir, we’re in a gravity well,” the sensor operator shouted.
“Hold it, Tonin.”
Zsinj leaned down to look into the crew pit. “We’re not even near—damn. Sensors, identify the Interdictor. Captain Vellar, that’s our primary target. Dispatch Red Gauntlet and Serpent’s Smile to annihilate that nuisance. Keep Blood Gutter in tight to us. Communications, new message for Groups Two and Three. Send them our current position—update it constantly. Tell them to hold in readiness to jump to our position on my order. If we’re not able to jump out of here before we’re likely to be disabled, we’ll just have to bring the fleet in here and fight on Solo’s preferred playground.”
“I’m disconnecting, Tonin. We may not have to reveal ourselves yet.” She typed and sent the countercommand, restoring the terminal to its proper function, and got back to work.
Wedge led his group in a wide loop around Skyhook, Crynyd, and Stellar Web, the lead ships of Solo’s fleet; around Red Gauntlet and Serpent’s Smile, the Star Destroyers coming in to eliminate the Interdictor; and then straight in toward the retreating Iron Fist.
Wedge was lead fighter in the lead squadron of twenty-four squadrons of fighters—every fighter in Solo’s fleet except those from the Skyhook and Crynyd, which were charged with the defense of Stellar Web. Several of the X-wing squadrons were light, with pilots still scattered across the solar system, awaiting word that the battle had materialized, but the group was still imposing, the largest force he’d led in quite a while.
“Rogue Leader, this is Mon Remonda. Still no sign of starfighter deployment from your target.”
“Thanks, Mon Remonda. X-wings, set your S-foils to attack position. All fighters, arm your weapons.” Wedge looped around so he was lined up more perfectly with Iron Fist’s long axis. The lack of starfighters didn’t surprise him; Zsinj was hoping to make a jump to hyperspace and didn’t want to lose time and pilots by deploying his TIEs and then summoning them back in. But that decision was about to cost him.
Ahead, the Super Star Destroyer