Star Wars_ X-Wing 07_ Solo Command - Aaron Allston [141]
“Twenty.” That was Janson’s voice. “But they’re changing tactics.”
Kell looped around, back toward the ruined town, and Elassar fell in beside him.
Ahead, the interceptors of the 181st continued with their low-level strafing runs against the ruins. They seemed to have no particular target; their aim seemed to be the transformation of the entire set of ruins into smaller rubble and dust.
Kell saw Janson and Elassar come in from the east, aiming for a pair of interceptors near the ruins’s border. Their targets shied away toward the colony center; two more turned in the direction of Janson and Elassar for a head-to-head. Janson and Elassar banked toward the newcomers, but those targets, too, looped away as a third pair maneuvered to engage the Wraiths.
It was a deadly game of keep-away, fliers of the 181st turning to engage the Wraiths just long enough to get their attention, then breaking away to return to their strafing. As Kell and Elassar neared shore, two interceptors turned toward them.
“If they come at us,” Kell said, “standard head-to-head. If they bank away, don’t follow.”
“Acknowledged,” Elassar said.
Their enemies banked away well before they were in targeting range. A new pair angled in from the north, timing their approach so they’d hit Kell and Elassar from the side if the Wraiths continued their straight-line approach.
“Up,” Kell said, and drew back on his yoke. His interceptor rose at a dizzying pace. “I don’t get it. They’re playing defensively.”
“They’re waiting,” Janson said. “For the rest of the Rogues and Wraiths.”
Zsinj watched in mounting disbelief as his fleet’s damage displays grew ever redder. “Melvar,” he said.
Captain Vellar looked over from his position on the command walkway. “He’s not back from his errand. Did his errand involve a shuttle launch? We have a landing craft taking off from the personal-vehicles bay. It seems to be in pursuit of an X-wing.”
Zsinj shook his head, unconcerned. “Never mind that. Vellar, are they that good? Oh, Sithspit, we just lost Venom.” Red flashes crossed and crisscrossed the display of the Victory-class Star Destroyer like a flash fire.
“They seem to be, sir,” the captain said. There was tension in his voice, but his expression was unwavering. “Mon Remonda is almost in position to engage us.”
“Your opinion?”
The captain gave the sensor holoprojections a long look. “Our group isn’t going to defeat their secondary group. They’re being pounded to pieces. Solo’s main group, which is almost unhurt, is going to hit us in just a minute. We’re damaged, and we don’t know the extent to which we may have been further sabotaged. Eventually Solo’s secondary group will reinforce the main group.” He turned a regretful face to Zsinj. “Sir, we’re not going to win this fight.”
“All ahead full,” Zsinj said. “Get us out of the debris field. Set your course for Second Death’s position. Bring in all starfighters from all ships—except the 181st and their support—to harass Solo’s group.”
“Sir, that will accelerate the damage the rest of our group is taking.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Zsinj couldn’t keep the venom out of his tone. “As soon as we’re free of the debris ring, issue orders for the ships that survive to flee at their discretion.” He felt something sharp in his chest, a pain that had everything to do with the sudden loss of his reputation for infallibility on the battlefield.
Rogue Squadron and Wraith Squadron broke through the high cloud over into a dark world lashed by rains. They dove toward the colony ruins, breaking by wingpairs, each pair of pilots seeking out prey—starfighters that were frailer but far faster than theirs. They saw the enemy interceptors scatter by pairs, each trying to find an advantageous angle to repel the X-wings’s assaults.
Wedge tried to pick out by eye which of the enemies was Baron Fel. He needn’t