Chapter

~30~

Admiral Gilad Pellaeon, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, observed the battle across Ecsilan from his Star Destroyer, Chimaera, the purple and blue gas giant bright enough to almost make his eyes water. Surrounding his vessel, four Imperial I-class Star Destroyers, two Victory-class, and half a dozen light cruisers. Even before his pupils had fully adjusted to the image that filled up the viewport, a wave of TIE fighters surged out into space from his fleet—towards the Yarway, towards Admiral Halba Lasial and her followers, who were about to pay the price for their actions against the Galactic Empire.

To Pellaeon's left stood his new captain, Irawen Suralle, the man not even half his age—a harsh reminder of the previous captain that the Imperial admiral had lost to Lasial and her assassin weeks before.

"Updates," Pellaeon demanded to the crew pit behind him.

"Our sensors have picked up Gilso Izaa's crew," an Ensign replied. "The Ruhm and his other fighters have surrounded the Yarway and Lasial's other vessels, including the Wys…" the young man trailed off, reading his console. "It appears the Yarway is just above Ecsilan V's orbit, and it's targeting the moon."

Pellaeon wrinkled his brow. "It's targeting fighters within the moon's atmosphere?"

"No, sir. The moon itself."

Pellaeon paused, mulling over the new intel. This was a space battle—it was of no strategic benefit for Izaa or any of his crew to be on the moon's surface for Lasial to attack.

"Contact Gilso Izaa on the Ruhm," Pellaeon said, and the comm officer did as instructed.

"A—Admiral Pellaeon?" a voice Pellaeon had never heard came through the channel. "Is—is that who—"

"Captain Izaa," Pellaeon cut him off as he wrapped his hands behind his back, "where's Master Skywalker? Is he trapped on Ecsilan V's surface?"

"He—he's on the Star Destroyer," the mercenary replied. "He's going after Admiral Lasial and that assassin of hers."

That sounded about right—wild card, indeed. "Then why is the Yarway attacking Ecsilan V?"

Izaa cleared his throat. "I—I don't know. Lasial just started attacking it out of nowhere."

Pellaeon glimpsed at Suralle. The confusion on the captain's face matched what the admiral felt in the pit of his stomach. There were no enemies on Ecsilan V; from what Pellaeon knew of the moon, the civilians were farmers, so the only reason Lasial would waste resources and attack innocent people would be revenge. She'd tried to use them as war fodder, and apparently, it hadn't worked.

"Commander Avron," Pellaeon called to the leader of the Chimaera's TIE squadron, "re-route your team to Ecsilan's surface. Take out the Yarway's laser towers and blast her squadron off that moon."

"Yes, Admiral," Avron replied, and in front of them, a band of TIE broke off from the rest.

"Sir," Captain Suralle spoke up, "the Yarway has breached orbit. As we speak, it's most certainly calculating the jump to lightspeed—"

"The Jedi and our other remaining TIE squadrons will handle the Yarway."

"But Admiral, if we wish to commandeer our own Star Destroyer—"

"I've already given my orders, Captain."

Pellaeon kept his tone quiet but edged, and Suralle's shoulders tensed. He clearly wished to argue further but remained tight-lipped. Good.

"Captain Izaa," Pellaeon called into the comm again, "fall back from your squadron. I need a full report on what's transpired here."

"Of—of course," the shaky, bewildered voice of Gilso Izaa went on. There was a sigh. "I—I thought I was working for Vana the Hutt on Ryloth."

"And Vana the Hutt works for me," Pellaeon replied. "Is that a problem?"

Another skipped beat, and then Izaa snorted. "As long as I get paid, I don't have any problems."

"That's what I thought."

Actually, the chain went from Gilso Izaa to Vana the Hutt to Governor Hyac'nik of Belar VII, who had been a close associate of Pellaeon's since the Clone Wars. There were others, of course, strings that created a tapestry across the galaxy. Even a few New Republic officials provided intel to Pellaeon's loyalists and were none the wiser.

Sometimes being under-estimated had its advantages. Of course, under-estimating the Galactic Empire was a mistake Admiral Lasial was about to learn the hard way.

• • •

"Get us to lightspeed!" Lasial shouted to her officers in the crew pit, her blaster aimed at all of them. "We need to retreat—now!"

"The—the navigation computer is still calculating," one of the crew members replied. "It'll take another minute to—"

"We'll be dead in another minute. That is Admiral Pellaeon and his Empire at our door."

Slowly, the young officer looked up at Lasial, his eyes shrouded in defeat. "I—I don't know what else to do."

Lasial wanted to shoot him; she could feel her finger twitch on her blaster's trigger, the metal smooth against her skin. But no—killing him, killing any of them at this point, would not alter things. She could only hope, by the Force itself, that the Yarway could get to lightspeed before the swarm of Imperial TIE fighters surrounded their vessel.

• • •

Han gripped the Falcon's controls, the ship barreling across Ecsilan V's skyline. Below, the moon was burning, plains of farmlands lit up with lines of fire and villages smoking. There were casualties, despite how hard he and Kam tried to knock out any bloodthirsty TIE fighters in the vicinity.

"The Yarway has broken orbit," Kam called into Han's comm. "It is most likely calculating a jump to lightspeed."

"Over my sorry hide!" Han shouted and jerked the Falcon's controls so hard, both Threepio and Chewie screamed.

"Is that necessary?" Threepio shouted and then released a robotic huff. "I wanted to stay on Coruscant!"

"I wanted you to stay on Coruscant!" Han replied. "If you could just learn to keep your golden mouth shut, you wouldn't have had to come at all!"

"Captain Solo—there!" the droid yelled, and Han side-rolled, avoiding another set of Lasial's TIEs.

"Kam!" Han called out again. "We'll only get one shot at this. We gotta get up there and we gotta to do it now!"

"I'm with you, Captain," Kam replied, his tone no more animated than if he were putting on his boots. Then, in perfect form, the Jedi blasted his way up to the Falcon just as the freighter disappeared into Ecsilan V's clouds. Again, Han had no visuals, but Kam Solusar had the Force, and with ease, he re-positioned himself just a few meters above the Falcon. They simply had to hope that Izaa and his crew were still keeping the Yarway busy.

Green turbolasers blasted around them, the beams lighting up the dense purple clouds, and then everything was clear. The Falcon, along with Kam's Y-wing, emerged from Ecsilan V's atmosphere, and Han gasped.

"Oh, my!" Threepio screamed. "It's—it's—"

"The whole blasted Empire," Han muttered. Or at least it felt like it—it had been years since he'd seen this number of Imperial ships banded together. And there they were, with a hundred TIE fighters careening their way—and here he was, a sitting womp rat.

"Chewie," Han said, "get down to the gun turret—"

"No," Kam called. "There's no need for that."

"No need? We have the entire Imperial fleet floating in front of us!"

"They're here to help."

Han gawked at the scene before him, Kam's words and Han's entire life experience unable to click cleanly together in his head.

"They are not our enemies," Kam went on. "At least, not today."

It felt so backwards, Han's gut knotted up, his mind blaring warnings that this was wrong from every angle, but as the Yarway grew larger in his viewport, he gathered himself. He might hate this, but he hated the idea of Lasial getting away even more.

"Follow me in," Han said to Kam, and both ships soared above the Yarway, the Star Destroyer filling up his entire viewport.

"Keep her TIEs off of us!" Han shouted to Izaa and his small fleet. "We need to make it to the bridge, or this entire show will be for nothing."

"I don't have to take orders from you—" Izaa began, but then the comm system beeped, another respondent patching through.

Han opened the channel. "…you'll take orders from me," a voice entered the conversation, an impassive, calm voice, one that Han might have mistaken for one of Luke's Jedi except he knew better.

"Yes," Izaa came back. "Of course, Admiral Pellaeon."

"Cover the Millennium Falcon as it approaches the Yarway's bridge," the Imperial admiral continued. Then the comm went dead again.

Across the Yarway, laser cannons shot wildly at the Falcon, but just like the TIEs, the shooters were either inexperienced or didn't have their head in the fight. Two of Izaa's snubfighters veered in front—a Naboo starfighter and an X-wing—covering the Falcon as it spiraled upwards, the Yarway's bridge growing on the viewport. Then Kam's Y-wing shot forward.

• • •

"Y-wing!" one of the officers on the bridge shouted, and Lasial spun towards the viewport.

Two random snubfighters flew past the Yarway's bridge, and there, speeding away from the top of a Corellian vessel's hull—the Millennium Falcon, she swiftly realized—a single BTL Y-wing starfighter.

"Why didn't you say something before?" she screamed at her bridge crew.

"It—it didn't come up on the sensors," an office replied. "I—I didn't—"

Lasial reeled her vision back to the viewport. The Y-wing had been camouflaged—it had remained so close to the Falcon, the Yarway's sensors hadn't detected it. And now…now it was too late.

As the Y-wing soared past the Yarway, a chain of ion torpedoes shot out from the cannons above its cockpit. The entire bridge lit up with blue sparks, as though the ship's hull had been caught in a lightning storm.

Then every electronic across the bridge went dark.

• • •

Above Luke and Mara, the Yarway's lights flicked off, the long corridor filled with stormtroopers, now only lit by two lightsabers. The herd of opponents stopped firing, unmistakably alarmed by this new obstacle, and Luke had no intention of passing that up.

Shutting down his lightsaber, he bolted forward, Mara quick to do the same, leaving the corridor in utter blackness. At least for the troopers. Through the Force, Luke felt their energy, their feet shuffling, their blasters preparing to aim once more, but with only their eyes to depend on, there was nowhere to aim.

Not for them, at least.

A flash of green light—Luke's lightsaber, as he reached the troopers and activated the blade. He cut through a blaster, then a trooper's arm. There were screams and a red beam lit up the corridor, aimed straight at Luke's head. He deflected the shot back, catching the trooper in the chest before shutting down his saber again, and again, leaving everything in darkness.

A flash of blue. Two troopers down, one losing a hand, the other a foot. The blazing blue blade disappeared before a single shot could be fired.

Panic. Luke sensed it from the men and women in front of him, as their eyes failed them where Luke and Mara's senses in the Force held strong. Another eruption of white-green, another set of injured troopers and destroyed rifles, and then, with gasps and shouts to fall back, the stormtroopers retreated, a few remaining grounded but out of the fight. Things were strangely quiet for a half-second, and through the Force, Luke saw Mara, her life force, strong and focused.

"That was handy," she commented, and a loud droning roared through the corridor, vibrating the walls and ceiling—emergency lights sparked to life. The life support began to circulate again. They were on private generators, active until the bridge crew could reboot the Yarway's entire system, which could take a few minutes. In the meantime, the Star Destroyer was just a hunk of metal floating in space. With Pellaeon and his Imperial fleet right at their door, that meant there was zero chance to save the ship from his hands now.

That also meant, unless they evacuated soon, Luke, Mara, and the rest of them would be at the mercy of the Galactic Empire.

"So what's the next move?" Mara asked. "Still heading to the bridge for Lasial?"

Luke frowned. "She's not staying on the bridge." He grabbed his comlink. "Corran, Kirana—change of plan. We're heading your way."

End of Chapter 30

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