by Timothy Zahn
"Good," Han said. "Stay sharp anyway." He keyed the transport's intercom into the circuit and glanced at his chrono. "Lando? Where are you?"
"Just inside the cargo hatch," the other answered. "We've got the sled loaded and ready to go.
"Okay," Han said. "We're heading in."
They were approaching their target Dreadnaught now, close enough that Luke could see the faint outline of reflected starlight that marked the edge of the hull. Roughly cylindrical in shape, with a half dozen weapons blisters arranged around its midsection and a bow that he'd heard once described as a giant clam with an overbite, the ship looked almost quaintly archaic. But it was a false impression. The Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser had been the backbone of the Old Republic's fleet; and while it might not look as sleek as the Imperial Star Destroyer that had replaced it, its massive turbolaser batteries still packed an awesome punch. "How do we get aboard?" he asked Han.
"There's the main docking bay," Han said, pointing to a dim rectangle of lights. "We'll take the ship inside."
Luke looked at the rectangle doubtfully. "If it's big enough."
His fears proved groundless. The entrance to the docking bay was larger than it had appeared, and the bay itself even more so. With casual skill Han brought the transport in, swiveled it around to face the opening, and put it down on the deck. "Okay," he said, keying the systems to standby and unstrapping. "Let's get this over with."
Lando, Chewbacca, and the four-man tech team were waiting at the cargo hatchway when Han and Luke arrived, the techs looking somewhat ill at ease with the unaccustomed blasters belted awkwardly to their sides. "Checked the air yet, Anselm?" Han asked.
"It looks fine," the head of the tech team reported, offering Han a data pad for inspection. "Better than it should be after all these years. Must still be some droids on housekeeping duty."
Han glanced at the analysis, handed back the data pad, and nodded to Chewbacca. "Okay, Chewie, open the hatch. Tomrus, you drive the sled. Watch out for blank spots in the gravity plates-we don't want you bouncing the sled off the ceiling."
The air in the bay had a strangely musty odor about it; a combination of oil and dust, Luke decided, with a slight metallic tang. But it was fresh enough otherwise. "Pretty impressive," he commented as the group walked behind the repulsorlift sled toward the main hatchway. "Especially after all this time."
"Those full-rig computer systems were designed to last," Lando said. "So what's the plan, Han?"
"I guess we split up," Han said. "You and Chewie take Anselm, Tomrus, and the sled and go check out engineering. We'll head up to the bridge."
For Luke, it was one of the eeriest trips of his life, precisely because it all looked so normal. The lights in the wide corridors were all working properly, as were the gravity plates and the rest of the environment system. Doors leading off the corridor slid open automatically whenever any of the group strayed close enough to trigger them, revealing glimpses of perfectly maintained machine shops, equipment rooms, and crew lounges. The faint mechanical noises of idling systems whispered behind the sound of their own footsteps, and occasionally they glimpsed an ancient droid still going about its business. To all appearances, the ship might just as well have been abandoned yesterday.
But it hadn't been. The ships had been floating here in the blackness for half a century : and their crews had not left, but had died here in agony and madness. Looking down empty cross corridors as they walked, Luke wondered what the maintenance droids had made of it all as they cleared away the bodies.
The bridge was a long walk from the docking bay. But eventually they made it. "Okay, we're here," Han announced into his comlink as the blast doors between the bridge and the monitor anteroom behind it opened with only minor grating sounds. "Doesn't seem to be any obvious damage. What have you got on the sublight engines?"
"Doesn't look good," Lando reported. "Tomrus says that six of the eight main power converters have been knocked out of alignment. He's still running a check, but my guess is this tub's not going anywhere without a complete overhaul."
"Ask me if I'm surprised," Han countered dryly. "What about the hyperdrive? Any chance we can at least fly it somewhere in towing range of a shipyard?"
"Anselm is looking into that," Lando said. "Personally, I wouldn't trust it that far."
"Yeah. Well, we're just here to look the thing over, not get it moving. We'll see what kind of control systems we've got left up here and that'll be it."
Luke glanced up at the space over the blast doors. Paused for a second look at the elaborate name plaque fastened there. "It's the Katana," he murmured.
"What?" Han craned his neck for a look. "Huh." He looked oddly at Luke. "Was that why you wanted this one?"
Luke shook his head. "I guess so. It was just intuition through the Force."
"Han, Luke," Wedge's voice cut in suddenly. "We've got incoming."
Luke felt his heart jump. "Where?"
"Vector two-ten mark twenty-one. Configuration : it's an Escort Frigate."
Luke let out a quiet breath. "Better give them a call," he said. "Let them know where we are.
"Actually, they're calling us," Wedge said. "Hang on; I'll patch it through."
"-tain Solo, this is Captain Virgilio of the Escort Frigate Quenfis," a new voice came over Han's comlink. "Do you read?"
"Solo here," Han said. "Calling from aboard the Old Republic ship Katana-"
"Captain Solo, I regret to inform you that you and your party are under arrest," Virgilio cut him off. "You will return to your own vessel at once and prepare to surrender."
Virgilio's words, and the stunned silence that followed, echoed through the command observation deck above and behind the Quenfis's bridge. Seated at the main board, Fey'lya threw a mocking smile at Leia, a slightly less insolent one at Karrde, then returned his attention to the distant X-wing drive trails. "They don't seem to be taking you seriously, Captain," he said toward the intercom. "Perhaps lauching your X-wing squadrons would convince them we're serious."
"Yes, Councilor," Virgilio said briskly, and Leia strained her ears in vain for any signs of resentment in that voice. Most of the warship captains she'd known would be highly annoyed at the prospect of taking line orders from a civilian, particularly a civilian with negligible military experience of his own. But then, Fey'lya would hardly have picked the Quenfis for this mission if Virgilio hadn't been one of his staunchest backers. Just one more indication, if she'd needed it, as to who was really in charge here. "X-wings: launch."
There were a series of dull thuds as the two squadrons of starfighters left the ship. "Captain Solo, this is Captain Virgilio. Please respond."
"Captain, this is Wing Commander Wedge Antilles of Rogue Squadron," Wedge's voice cut in. "May I ask your authorization to order our arrest?"
"Allow me, Captain," Fey'lya said, touching the comm switch on the board behind him. "This is Councilor Borsk Fey'lya, Commander Antilles," he said. "Though I doubt you're aware of it, Captain Solo is operating illegally."
"I'm sorry, Councilor," Wedge said, "but I don't understand how that can be. Our orders came from Councilor Leia Organa Solo."
"And these new orders come directly from Mon Mothma," Fey'lya told him. "Therefore, your authorization is-"
"Can you prove that?"
Fey'lya seemed taken aback. "I have the order sitting here in front of me, Commander," he said. "You're welcome to examine it once you're aboard."
"Commander, for the moment the origin of the arrest order is irrelevant," Virgilio put in, annoyance starting to creep into his voice. "As a superior officer, I order you to surrender and bring your squadron aboard my ship."
There was a long silence. Leia threw a look at Karrde, seated a quarter of the way around the observation deck from her. But his attention was turned outward through the transparisteel bubble, his face impassive. Perhaps he was remembering the last time he'd been to this spot. "What if I refuse?" Wedge asked at last.
"Forget it, Wedge,"
Han's voice cut in. "It's not worth risking a court martial over. Go on, we don't need you anymore. Nice hearing from you, Fey'lya." There was the faint click of a disconnecting comlink-
"Solo!" Fey'lya barked, leaning over the comm as if that would do any good. "Solo!" He turned and glared at Leia. "Get over here," he ordered her, jabbing a finger at the comm. "I want him back."
Leia shook her head. "Sorry, Councilor. Han won't listen to anyone when he's like this."
Fey'lya's fur flattened. "I'll ask you one more time, Councilor. If you refuse-"
He never had a chance to finish the threat. Something flickered at the edge of Leia's peripheral vision; and even as she turned to look, the Quenfis's alarms went off. "What-?" Fey'lya yelped, jerking in his seat and looking frantically around him.
"It's an Imperial Star Destroyer," Karrde told him over the blaring of the alarms. "And it appears to be coming this way.
"We got company, Rogue Leader," one of Wedge's X-wing pilots snapped as the sound of the Quenfis's alarms came hooting over the comm. "Star Destroyer; bearing one-seven-eight mark eighty-six."
"Got it," Wedge said, turning his ship away from its confrontation with the Quenfis's approaching starfighters and bringing it around in a tight one-eighty. It was a Star Destroyer, all right: almost straight across from the Quenfis, with the Katana dead center between them. "Luke?" he called.
"We see it," Luke's voice came back tightly. "We're heading for the docking bay now.
"Right-hold it," Wedge interrupted himself. Against the dark bulk of the Star Destroyer's lower hull a large group of drive trails had suddenly appeared. "They're launching," he told the other. "Twelve marks-drop ships, probably, from the look of the drive trails.
"So we hurry," Han's voice came on. "Thanks for the warning; now get back to the Quenfis."
The comlink clicked and went dead. "Like blazes we will," Wedge muttered under his breath. "Rogue Squadron: let's go."
Captain Virgilio was trying to say something on the open channel. Switching to his squadron's private frequency, Wedge kicked the X-wing's drive to full power and set off toward the Katana.
In the near distance, just beyond the drive trails of the Quenfis's X-wings, Rogue Squadron turned and blazed off in the direction of the Star Destroyer. "They're going to attack," Fey'lya breathed. "They must be insane."
"They're not attacking-they're running cover," Leia told him, staring at the scenario unfolding outside the bubble and trying to estimate interception points. It was going to be far too close. "We need to get over there and back them up," she said. "Captain Virgilio-"
"Captain Virgilio, you'll recall your X-wings at once," Fey'lya cut her off. "Navigation will prepare to make the jump to lightspeed."
"Councilor?" Virgilio asked, his voice sounding stunned. "Are you suggesting we abandon them?"
"Our duty, Captain, is to get out of here alive and sound the alarm," Fey'lya countered sharply. "If Rogue Squadron insists on defying orders, there's nothing we can do for them."
Leia was on her feet. "Captain-"
Fey'lya was quicker, slapping off the intercom before she could speak. "I'm in charge here, Councilor," he said as she started toward him. "Authorized by Mon Mothma herself."
"To blazes with your authority," Leia snapped. For a handful of heartbeats she had the almost overwhelming urge to snatch her lightsaber from her belt and send it slicing through that bland face:
With an effort, she choked the urge down. Violent hatred was the path of the dark side. "Mon Mothma didn't anticipate anything like this happening," she said, fighting to keep her voice as calm as she could. "Fey'lya, that's my husband and my brother out there. If we don't help them, they'll die.
"And if we do help them, they'll most likely still die," Fey'lya said coolly. "And your unborn children along with them."
An icy knife jabbed at Leia's heart. "That's not fair," she whispered.
"Reality is not required to be fair," Fey'lya said. "And the reality in this case is that I will not waste men and ships on a lost cause."
"It's not lost!" Leia insisted, her voice breaking with desperation as she threw a look out the bubble. No; it couldn't end like this. Not after all she and Han had survived together. She took another step toward Fey'lya-
"The Quenfis will withdraw," the Bothan said quietly; and suddenly, from some hiding place within the cream-colored fur, a blaster appeared in his hand. "And neither you nor anyone else is going to change that."
"Report from sensors, Captain," the officer at the Judicator's scan station called up to the command walkway. "All the other Dreadnaughts in the region read negative for life-forms."
"So they're concentrating on just the one," Captain Brandei nodded. "That's where we'll hit, then. The Rebels will be in far less of a hurry to open fire on a ship that has their own people aboard. Still just the one starfighter squadron moving to intercept?"
"Yes, sir. The Escort Frigate and other two squadrons haven't yet responded. They must have been caught off guard."
"Perhaps." Brandei permitted himself a slight smile. So it always went with rebels. They fought like crazed animals when they had nothing to lose; but give them a taste of victory and a chance to enjoy the spoils of war and suddenly they weren't nearly so eager to risk their lives anymore. One of many reasons why the Empire would ultimately defeat them. "Order the drop ships into defense formation," he instructed the communications officer. "And have Starfighter Command launch two squadrons of TIE fighters to intercept those X-wings."
He smiled again. "And send a message to the, Chimaera. Inform the Grand Admiral that we have engaged the enemy."
For a long minute Han gazed out the bridge observation bubble at the approaching Imperial ships, doing a quick estimate of times and distances and ignoring the fidgeting tech men waiting nervously at the bridge doorway. "Shouldn't we be going?" Luke prompted from beside him.
Han came to a decision. "We're not leaving," he said, thumbing on his comlink. "We'd get the transport out of the docking bay just in time to run into those drop ships and TIE fighters. Lando?"
"Right here," Lando's voice came tensely back.
"What's happening out there?"
"Imperials on the way," Han told him, moving over to the bridge fire-control panel and gesturing the techs to join him. "Rogue Squadron's moving to intercept, but it sounds like Fey'lya's crowd is going to run for it."
Lando swore under his breath. "We can't just sit here and let Wedge tackle them alone."
"We're not going to," Han assured him grimly. "Get busy back there and see what shape the power coupling to the turbolaser batteries is in. We'll check the fire control up here. And make it fast-once they break formation we won't be able to hit them."
"Right."
Han stuck the comlink back in his belt. "How's it look, Shen?"
"Looks pretty solid," the tech's muffled voice came from underneath the control board. "Kline?"
"Connections look good here, too," the other tech reported from a board across the room. "If we can get the computer to enable the system : there we go." He looked at Han. "You're all set."
Han sat down at the weapons panel, running his eyes over the unfamiliar arrangement of the controls and wondering if all this effort was more than just spitting in vacuum. Even these full-rigged, computer-centralized, slave-circuit-equipped Dreadnaughts still required over two thousand people to fly them.
But the Imperials wouldn't be expecting a derelict ship to fire. He hoped. "Here we go," he muttered to himself as he keyed for visual targeting. The drop ships were still flying in tight formation, using their overlapping shields to protect them from any loose shots from the approaching X-wings. The faster TIE fighters had caught up with them now, sweeping around the group on all sides and starting to pass them.