Part 3 (1/2)
And among the many things Kyle had learned was the fact that there is no weapon more powerful than an open mind. Take the present situation for example: There was an opportunity somewhere in front of him, and all he had to do was find it.
The situation reminded Kyle of the set-piece battles he'd been required to study at the Imperial Military Academy. A career he had pursued in order to get an education - but abandoned after his father had been murdered. Murdered and his head placed on a spike for all to see. Kyle hadn't been there, but he'd seen a holo, and the image haunted his dreams.
The Imperial Star Destroyer seemed to swell in size. Support s.h.i.+ps surrounded the larger vessel and opened fire.
Kyle saw that they had formed a protective globe around the Destroyer, which, though heavily armed, was temporarily vulnerable due to the bow damage and the ongoing need to launch and retrieve TIE fighters - many of which were occupied occupied elsewhere.
Suddenly Kyle had it, the perfect place to hide, even though the enemy would know exactly where they were. Not forever - just long enough for the Rebel fighters to arrive.
”Jan! Luke! Go for the center of their formation. Get between the Destroyer and center of their formation. Get between the Destroyer and her escorts, and maintain that position as long as you can.”
Skywalker put the X-wing into a tight turn, fired at a TIE fighter, noticed it was one of the newer models - a GT if memory served him correctly - and considered the agent's suggestion. The idea seemed suicidal at first - until the beauty of it struck him.
By placing themselves between the capital s.h.i.+p and her escorts, they would force the imperials to break formation, fire at each other in an attempt to hit the Rebel s.h.i.+ps, or cease firing altogether!
”Good idea, Kyle... if - we can get there in one whole piece. I'm going in...”
Han Solo checked to make sure that the Rebel attack group was still closing on course, saw that they were, and turned to his companion.
”Let's run a last-minute check, Chewie - how's that power coupler? I'd sure hate to have it burn out with a couple of TIE fighters on our tails.”
Though able to understand Basic, Chewbacca wasn't equipped to speak it.
He growled resentfully, stabbed at some b.u.t.tons, and pointed at a display. Han frowned.
”Yeah, I can read, but just because it looks good now doesn't mean it'll stay that way.”
Chewbacca made a moaning sound, started to release his harness, and stopped when a voice came over the group's comm frequency.
”Medpac One to Group Leader...”
Han smiled. There had been very little time for niceties such as call signs.
That being the case, the second squadron, mainly comprised of walking wounded, had chosen their own.
”I read you, Medpac One... go. Over.”
”The bandits are coming out to play... twenty... maybe more. Over.”
Han cursed the need for the Millennium Falcon to lag behind, protected by a screen of Y-wings, and wished he could see the enemy for himself. It didn't make sense though - not with such a makes.h.i.+ft unit.
Leaders.h.i.+p would be crucial, and there wouldn't be any if he were killed during the first few minutes of battle. ”Roger that... you'll see even more as they pull fighters off the Hope and send 'em our way. Remember, don't let the Imps suck us into multiple dog fights. Go for the Destroyer.”
”Roger,” Medpac One said with a cheerfulness he really didn't feel. ”Engaging now.” The next fifteen minutes were some of the longest in Han's life. Medpac One and his squadron absorbed the initial attack, lost two X- wings, and bored through. The weight of three full squadrons, no matter how iffy some of the individual s.h.i.+ps might be, was hard to resist. The officer in charge of the Imperial Task Force continually sent two-s.h.i.+p flights in to pull Rebel fighters away and thereby weaken the counterattack. Han, who had the instincts of a loner and had never enjoyed following other people's orders, found himself in the somewhat ironic position of maintaining ironclad discipline.
Pilots who succ.u.mbed to temptation, or were cut off through no fault of their own, were left to fend for themselves as the larger force broke through wave after wave of TIE fighters. Minidramas, too many to count, played themselves out.
”Break right, Medpac Three! There's one on your tail.”
”Yahoo! Eat energy, you sc.u.m-sucking Imperial... ”
”Watch your six... two on the way.”
”Hey, you! In the Y-wing... follow me.”
”It hurts... it hurts so bad...”
”I'm on it, Blue Six... keep her steady...”
Then, through the mishmash of comm traffic, Han heard what he'd been waiting for.
”Medpac Four to Group Leader... I have a visual on the Imperial Task Force... repeat... a visual on the Imperial Task Force.”
Han sideslipped to avoid the remains of a TIE fighter, fired at another, and sent a thought toward Luke. ”Hang in there, kid... we're almost there.”
The X-wing rocked from side to side, dodged laser fire, and bored in.
Luke could almost hear Yoda's voice: ”Have a pattern things do, starting with the subatomic structure of the pebble in your hand and extending to the stars themselves. Hmmm, yes. Find the pattern, understand the manner in which it was was woven, and nothing shall stand in your way.”
Each of the Imperial s.h.i.+ps had its own fire-control center, and all of those centers had been slaved to a computer aboard the Destroyer. While this strategy made maximum use of the Task Force's weaponry, it also created a pattern that Luke could feel. The trick was to direct his mind toward understanding the individual subpatterns that contributed to the whole but to do so without conscious thought, because conscious thought took time and led to doubt. That being the case, Luke ”sensed” where to direct his s.h.i.+p, fired when instinct told him to do so, and wove his way through a maze of outgoing laser fire.
The Moldy Crow, still in one piece and still on Luke's tail, followed behind.
Jan, her hands dancing between controls, spoke from the side of her mouth.
”Did you see that? It's as if he knows which way to go.”
Kyle, who had made a good deal of progress where his own talents were concerned, nodded admiringly.
”That's because he does know which way to go. Stay on his tail.”
Jan triggered the s.h.i.+p's cannons, winced as the Crow sped through the resulting explosion, and watched the Destroyer grow in size. The Rebel s.h.i.+ps had penetrated the outer screen by then and were pa.s.sing through the second. Lights flashed as a chunk of TIE fighter hit the deflector s.h.i.+eld, caused an overload, and spun away.
Imperial Naval Captain Purdy M. Trico watched the holo screens, listened to the comm traffic, and wondered why the G.o.ds had decided to abandon him.
A hand strayed to a bulge in his uniform. The amulet had always worked before - what had changed? The Imperial power structure frowned on G.o.ds, any sort of G.o.ds, especially those believed to have more power than the state. But that hadn't stopped Trico from wors.h.i.+ping the same ent.i.ties his forefathers had, not at the Academy, where such wors.h.i.+p could result in expulsion, and not during the subsequent years when discovery would have ruined his career.
So why had the G.o.ds deserted him during his hour of need? Why had Mugg, Bron, and the great Pula allowed the Rebel guns.h.i.+p to ram his Destroyer? And then, when he sought the relative safety of a war-ravaged solar system, why had they cursed him with a Dreadnaught? Not to mention the swarm of hostile fighters? Even now, two Rebel s.h.i.+ps were drilling in through his defenses as if protected from all harm.
The reverie, which had lasted little more than a few seconds, ended as the sometimes-meddlesome executive officer vied for his attention.
”Sorry to bother you, sir... but the Rebel Dreadnaught broke orbit and is headed this way.”
Trico came from a heavy gravity world and, being of the fourth generation, had the physique of a meter-and-a-half-tall weight lifter. Muscles bunched and writhed as he fought the impulse to twist the other officer's head off.
” 'Has' broken orbit? Did you say 'has'? Why wasn't I notified when this evolution began?”
The XO found it difficult to swallow. Though more competent than some, Trico had a reputation as something of a martinet, and a volatile one at that.
”Because our fighters were trying to intercept the Rebels... sir.”