Star Wars_ X-Wing 08_ Isard's Revenge - Michael A. Stackpole [97]
“Red Lead copies. Hyperdrive on my mark. Three, two, one, mark.”
The computer-generated display in the fighter’s various viewpoints became a shifting tunnel of light. Corran began to yawn and lifted his hand to cover it, but his hand bounced off his helmet. He growled mildly. Having to wear these helmets is reason enough for any Imp pilot to come over to the Rebellion.
He watched the chronometer on his main display trickle down to zero, then his ship reverted to realspace. A space station with three wedge-shaped platforms grafted at regular angles to the middle of its long central spindle came into view. He dropped his crosshairs on it and called up a sensor scan. The computer designated it Yag-prime and a chill ran through Corran. It’s the station at Yag’Dhul, the one we used as our base for ending Isard’s rule of Thyferra. Someone here is being very cute.
Corran brushed his right thumb over a targeting selection switch, toggling his way through the variety of ships in the system. One freighter came up as the Pulsar Skate, another as the Last Chance, and yet another as the Millennium Falcon. They even have the Star’s Delight here, the freighter that took me off Garqi and brought me to the Rebellion. Isard’s tossing up here all the freighters I mentioned in my Lusankya interrogations, reminding me how much she’d gotten out of me.
He keyed his comlink. “They’re playing some games with us, Lead. Not a problem for me, but we need to stay sharp.”
“My thoughts, too, Nine.” Wedge’s voice faded for a moment. “Five, take Two Flight and head along two-four mark two-seven-three to check the two bulk freighters, then take a run by the station.”
“As ordered, Lead.” Tycho’s voice crackled along the comm frequency. “Two Flight on me.”
Corran rolled his trip to starboard, then leveled out and swooped in behind Tycho’s fighter. Inyri brought Red Six up on Tycho’s port side and Ooryl dropped Seven aft right of Corran’s fighter. Nrin cruised Eight into a high cover position to the formation’s aft. Their course brought them in below the Falcon and sensors reported it was hauling droids and weapons. Corran snorted, half expecting Isard to have filled the imaginary freighter’s hold with spice.
Next came the Pulsar Skate, but sensors showed it as carrying passengers. Neither of the freighters reacted in any way to the fighter fly-by, but Corran kept watching them on his aft scope. If the shields come up, they could be the backstop for an ambush. He ruddered his fighter around to star-board, following the course correction Tycho made to bring the flight in on a long loop toward the station. Way out to port he could see flashes of One Flight lining up to do the same thing.
“Six has readings of ships powering up in the station.”
“Seven confirms. Profile is that of Defenders.”
Corran frowned as a dozen TIE Defenders came up out of the station. A red light began blinking on his HUD, indicating that something had a target lock on him, then a second burned to let him know a missile had been launched at him. “Nine has incoming missiles.”
“Evasive, all, now!”
Tycho’s fighter rolled hard to port, while Corran went starboard. He hesitated for a second, then began to thumb his way through the various threats in the system. He found the missile heading his way and turned his ship until it was coming straight in at his tail. He watched its range scroll down on the main display, and when it hit a hundred meters, he snaprolled to port, inverting his fighter, then he dove for a second.
The missile shot past and its momentum took it well beyond his ship. Reversing his roll, Corran brought the Defender’s nose back up and targeted the missile. He ruddered his ship around, keeping his fighter facing the missile as it cruised through the arc