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On the sensor board, the two Interceptors had joined up and were looping around to come in behind the X-wings.

“Four, full speed ahead, whatever you can manage,” Wedge said. “Three, stay with him. Two, you and I play crippled.” He reduced speed and began slewing back and forth in a manner that suggested damaged air surfaces and malfunctioning controls. “Gate, can you give me some smoke, sparks, anything to suggest I’m hit?”

I WILL APPLY A LASER TORCH TO THE SURFACE OF THE REAR HULL. THE PAINT WILL IGNITE AND CAUSE SMOKE. THE DAMAGE WILL BE COSMETIC ONLY.

“Do it.” This was a gamble, drawing the Interceptors to him and Tycho, but if the enemy pursued Hobbie instead, they were more than likely to shoot down the damaged X-wing.

The enemy took the bait. The two Interceptors stayed together and arced to follow Wedge and Tycho.

Wedge switched to proton torpedoes and reduced forward speed, hard, a gambit normally used to force a novice or inattentive pursuer to overshoot. It didn’t; the TIE pilot on his tail was too experienced, and fired off a laser salvo that hammered at the tail of Wedge’s X-wing.

But Tycho shot on ahead, his pursuer staying tight behind him, and that pursuer crossed, in a smooth and predictable arc, into Wedge’s brackets. The brackets flickered to red and he fired.

The Interceptor in his sights became a sky full of smoke and debris. Wedge headed straight into the destruction cloud. As soon as it surrounded him, he banked down and to port, hoping the Interceptor would lose him for a critical second or two.

It did; Wedge saw it shoot through the cloud, waver for a second, and then loop around in pursuit of him.

Then, as Tycho, at the end of his own loop, appeared in Wedge’s forward viewport, the TIE pilot stood the Interceptor on its tail and rose skyward at a rate no vehicle on Adumari could match.

Wedge rose in its wake and fired after it, one laser barrage … but his targeting computer couldn’t get a lock on the fast-moving, extraordinarily maneuverable Interceptor. “Phennir?” he asked.

There was no reply from the Interceptor, but Tycho said, “I think so. And I’ll give you odds that he’s about to tell his commanding officer that things aren’t going so well down here, and it’s time to bring in the rest of the Imperial fleet.”

“If he is, you’d better pray that I’ve accomplished one thing with diplomacy while I’ve been here.” He turned back toward the heart of the engagement zone. “Form up on me. We’re going to give the pilots of Cartann what they’ve been asking for for so long.”

The loss of the Interceptors did have an effect on the forces of Cartann. They flew against the united Adumari forces with increasing desperation and diminishing confidence. As their flying became more conservative, the Adumari forces’ focus began to take a greater and greater toll on them.

And then there were the X-wings, roaring among the Blades at speeds none of them could match, dancing in and out of engagements almost effortlessly, sending enemy pilot after pilot down in flames, doing exactly what the Interceptors had been doing to Cartann’s enemies moments before. Even Hobbie’s crippled snubfighter could match a Blade’s speed, and was superior to it in defenses, maneuverability, and firepower; Janson and Hobbie acted asa two-fighter screen for the surviving Meteor as the giant wing-shaped craft picked off Cartann’s fliers with its long-distance lasers.

Wedge set his course for a half squadron of Blades now forming up at high altitude; doubtless they meant to dive into a strafing run on fighters at lower altitudes. But as soon as he had his nose pointed up toward them, one of his targets spoke up: “Hold your fire. Skull-Biters surrender.”

Wedge rose toward them, his finger still on the trigger. “Say that again.”

“Skull-Biters Flightknife surrenders to Red Flight. Our weapons are powered down.”

Another voice cut in: “Lords of Dismay Flightknife, two reporting, surrenders to General Wedge Antilles.”

Wedge switched