CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was going to work!
Jaina and her wings were spread wide, herding two flutterslugs – Alema's ungracious moniker for the Hawkbats' tendency to shake when they were pushed to their unimpressive limits – along the hull of an enemy frigate. Without needing to check her tactical boards, she knew Garrett and his wing were converging from the other direction with a second pair of hapless Achebian fighters in their sights.
And they were all going to round the end of the Achebian frigate at the same…time.
Steady. Always one more second than you'd like. Her father always said that. Always one more second. One inch closer. It was the difference between being good at this and being great.
Ahead the two flutterslugs were about to clear their own frigate's bow. Jaina's trio would have to drive them all the way, then veer hard to port in time to clear the impending collision. The Achebians skimmed the frigate's hull and darted over the bow. Jaina feathered the stick, and adjusted her grip.
Just in time too. The glint of another Hawkbat appeared out of nowhere, surprising Jaina even though she expected it. She jerked her stick left and kicked the foot rudders, slewing her fighter over and around its own spiraling trajectory. Even amid the harried roll, the explosive blast darkened her cockpit's transparisteel for a second.
Garrett's plan had worked. Two flutterslugs had collided head-on. The other two narrowly missed, but the debris from the explosion ripped through one of them. It whirled out of control, then smacked into the frigate, spacing a good portion of the bow.
"Wahoo!"
"Yeehaw!"
"That was amazing, Garrett!"
"At your service, boss."
There was no time to say more. An enemy fighter strafed Jaina's shields, causing her X-Wing to jerk violently. When that one was past, another Hawkbat careened over the Achebian frigate's hull, then reversed hard to come about on her tail. The Achebian pilot went immediately for a hardlock, and Jaina's warning klaxons blared.
She yanked the stick hard, too hard because her vision collapsed, but not so much that she didn't see a torpedo flare past – a bit closer than she would have liked. She thought she should've shaken the hardlock with that maneuver, but her cockpit warning system still sounded. Swinging her head left then right, Jaina tried to locate her pursuer. Nothing!
Except a volley of red laserfire whizzing by. Jaina forced her snubfighter into a spiral.
"Cappie! Shut that kriffin' alarm off!" She needed some peace and quiet to think. In the meantime, her intuition told her to reverse. Another spray of fire barely missed her starboard S-foils.
Thankfully, the ceaseless din ended, only to be replaced by her astromech's shrill protestations. "Put a spanner in it, Cap."
The metallic wail ebbed until it was just a woeful plea.
"I know. I know." Jaina wigged and wagged, trying to shake the Hawkbat or at the least get a visual. "I'm trying…"
The cockpit fell quiet save the whine of her engines as Jaina tugged the stick toward her. This time she used the Force to compensate for the excessive gravitational forces, which were trying to suck all the blood to her feet. She breathed slowly and deeply, and waited. The bright flashes of trailing lasers grew farther and farther away. Then, experience told her to look up, so she did.
There it was. Right above her. If she could keep coming around. She grunted, the strain on her body almost intolerable. One more second, and the flutterslug would be in her sights. Abruptly, though, the enemy pilot caught on and broke hard to the right.
Before she could be miffed about it, Cappie shrieked – just as Jaina's own internal danger sense drove her to dive. Not a second too soon, as laser blasts from a new Hawkbat shot toward her port side. Her snubfighter only took a couple hits, which bounced harmlessly off the shields, before she cleared the line of fire.
"Seems they want a piece of me," she said while throwing the yoke left, down, right. Where were her wingmen? Obviously they had been forced to scramble after Garrett's risky stunt, but Jaina was starting to feel abandoned. She clicked her localized comm line open. "A little help, guys."
"Turn to one-four-eight, Jedi One," Jocell responded.
Flying fighters was about trust, because turning that way practically put a clear target mark on Jaina's backside for the closing Hawkbat. Still she executed the turn, cleanly and precisely. The enemy fighter followed, and fell right into Jocell's line of sight. The flutterslug erupted in a blaze of fiery clouds as the Chiss performed a surgical strike.
Jaina exhaled in relief. "Thanks, Vanguard Six."
"I apologize for the delay, but you were…difficult to catch," Jocell said.
Spotting Hop'tu high to port, Jaina led Jocell around to pick up the third member of their trio, and then start a new pass. The second clawcraft swooped into formation just as Jaina started back toward the furball.
"Nice of you to join us, Vanguard Twelve," she taunted Hop'tu.
"Any time, Jedi One."
Jaina chuckled. She had forgotten that even the Chiss squadrons had at least one smart mouth. It figured Jag would put the sharp talker in her trio. Thoughts of Jag compelled her to reach out, seeking to at least get a sense of him. She found him easily, and through their unique connection knew he was concerned but safe. For now.
For now? Why did her flesh bump as if something was very wrong?
Charging back into the engagement, Jaina let instinct take over while her years of experience absorbed the battle as a whole. The Achebians were trying a new tack; they seemed to be angling most of their offensive at the Jedi. It was a smart move in her estimation – eliminate the trio leaders.
Quickly she focused on the Jedi battle meld. It was always there in the back of her mind. She was so accustomed to the meld that it had become second nature. Spikes and valleys of attention. Subtle signals or more overt warnings. All those signals and feelings flowed through her without thought. Other times, when the information was more important, Jaina had to apply herself. Times like now.
Tyria. Smooth. Controlled. Definitely a veteran under fire.
Alema. No worries. Ice ran in the Twilek's veins.
Garrett. Good. Harried. Still pumped from his stellar feat.
Jacen. Working harder than the others. Grateful for Shawnkyr's experience. Yet still a Solo through and through – holding his own one way or another.
Valin. Adrenaline pumping. Energized. Not the slightest hint of undue stress, just normal battle-ready nerves. The kid was having too much fun, even for a Horn.
Wait! Valin wasn't leading the last trio; Jag was. Things happened fast in furballs, and maybe none of the Achebians-in-charge had figured that difference out…
Frantically scanning the tactical display, Jaina found Jag's clawcraft – highlighted in its usual special green color so she could keep a watchful eye on him – ripping through the heart of the furball. With a clawcraft and snubfighter clearing him a path, Jag was practically begging the enemy to pounce on him. No wingmen. No evasive maneuvers. Just a straight, predictable path.
If Jaina had been cranky with him earlier – she shoved aside the mental flash of that woman kissing Jag – she was now out and out angry. How could he do something so stupid?
She punched the comm over to the first available frequency he would hear. "Jag!"
"Yes?"
"You're not doing what I think you're doing."
"Actually, I am."
"Have you gone mad?"
"We'll find out." He paused. "I love you, Jaina."
The line clicked off, and Jaina watched helplessly as Jag blasted away with a horde of Hawkbats locked on his exhaust. His clawcraft vanished behind the Polar Wind, right into the narrow hunk of space that separated the battlecruiser and two Achebian frigates.
Oh gods!
She drove her fighter to maximum velocity, heading along the hull of the Chiss battlecruiser. She had to get to the other side. To see for herself…she pushed that fear aside. So she could be the first to chew Jagged Fel a new –
Frag! Where was his indicator? All she saw now on the tactical display was a mix of red beyond the Polar Wind – a cluster of enemy targets. No green. There was no green!
"Nooooo!" Jaina loosed a scream into the vacuum of space.
No one had heard her, but the Jedi had all felt it. Jacen was the first to send her settling waves. She didn't want it; she just wanted to know. Leave me alone. With a mental shove, Jaina broke away from the battle meld, from the meaningless comfort. There was only one way to take away this hollow fear chewing up her insides.
Her limbs and mind worked numbly, dipping, bobbing and weaving over the enormous hull, surging toward the other end. The Polar Wind seemed to stretch on endlessly.
"Come on. Come on."
Not soon enough she reached the enormous engine section with its blinding afterglow. She couldn't shave it too close; the heat draft from the sublight engines would fry her X-Wing in a heartbeat. Luckily experience was her ally, telling her where and how to make her cut. Diving, Jaina clicked her firing control to lasers.
If Jag made it…No. When Jag made it through, he would need someone to shake anything else hanging on his aft. He was still alive. She could feel it.
Jaina had almost made it across the entire engine section with no sight of Jag. He should have been here by now. She knew just how fast her fighter was and how fast his clawcraft could go. She had timed it perfectly –
Red bursts of laserfire meeting no objective were her only warning before a smoking clawcraft erupted past the luminosity of the battlecruiser's engines. Two Hawkbats shadowed the Chiss fighter, firing volley after volley in a desperate enraged fury. They were barely a fighter-length past her when Jaina veered after them like a nexu stalking its prey.
Her trained eyes pegged the Hawkbat with the lesser damage in an instant. It became her target. Not bothering to wait for a tone, she fired as fast as her cannons could recycle. Round after round as she arced into line. The early shots weren't clean but they bounced off the flutterslug's outer shields, distracting the pilot from his task.
"Not my man," Jaina gritted through her teeth, making the last feathering adjustment in her trajectory. Then Jag turned just the right way - and the Achebian dropped right into her sights. One precise hit; one flutterslug gone.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jaina saw the brilliant blaze of the second enemy fighter's demise. Her breath left in a hiss as she flew blindly straight through her target's fireball. When Jaina came out on the far side, she was practically on top of Jag's fighter. She eased up on his port wing. A quick survey told her things were not pretty.
She reverted to their private channel. "What exactly were you thinking?"
"Had to do something…fast or we'd have been in trouble." If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought Jag sounded shaken.
"And getting yourself killed would have helped us how?" Jaina was beginning to wonder if this was the man she had grown to love. He was behaving so…What was the word? Rash.
"I had no intention of getting killed. My plan worked exactly as I predicted. All those who pursued me are dead, aren't they?" He paused. "And thanks to that, our side is turning this into a rout." Now that was the Jagged Fel who had stolen her heart.
She turned her head so she could smile in Jag's direction. He couldn't see it, of course, but he would know. "Um…Jag…was your starboard engine spewing flames part of the master plan too?"
He didn't answer immediately. In fact, there was a long silence while his clawcraft listed and shook.
"Jag?"
"Fixed," he said matter-of-factly, then began a slow roll back toward the furball in the distance.
Jaina accelerated and blocked his turn. "Oh no, you don't."
"Out of my way, Jaina."
"Not a chance. Back to the Polar Wind for you. Right now."
"I'm the squadron leader and I –"
"No," Jaina spat. "With that damage, you really will get yourself killed."
"I don't have time for this. The battle is at its most critical point."
She didn't budge when the clawcraft's wingtips pushed within inches of her S-foils. "There is nothing out there I can't handle. And you know that. Or is this about something else? Or should I say somebody else?"
"Jaina." Not often had Jag actually growled to make a point.
"Jag." She wiggled her X-Wing a little closer until she could meet his gaze through the transparisteel of his viewport.
He glared back. "Don't make me pull rank on you, Jedi One."
"Vanguard Leader, I am a Jedi Knight and a Solo. Rank doesn't apply to me."
"I'm an Ambassador and a Fel. And I'm in charge. Now move."
"Oh. Right. I guess you forgot that I'm the woman in this partnership." Jaina grinned. "Now tell me again who's in charge?"