Champions of the Force

by Kevin J. Anderson

  emergency times, Sivron admitted, and they had

  to make sacrifices in the name of the Empire.

  "Thank you, Captain, for pointing out that

  loophole in our procedures," he said, flashing

  a pointy — toothed smile.

  The stormtrooper had shown them in an appendix

  to the emergency procedures, under the subheading

  "Dissemination of Information," a clause pertaining

  to the total secrecy of Maw Installation

  inventions — "Rebel access to Maw Installation

  research and development data must be denied at

  all costs." This clause, he argued, could be

  interpreted as mandating the destruction of the

  facility, now that it had been overrun.

  "At all costs," the captain repeated,

  "clearly means we should forfeit the Installation itself

  rather than let the Rebels have access to our work."

  "Well," Doxin said, "it would give us

  another opportunity to fire the superlaser for the

  good of the Empire." He raised his wire — thin

  eyebrows so that his scalp furrowed like treadmarks

  across a sand dune.

  Yemm, the Devaronian, continued

  to flip through paragraph after paragraph of the

  procedures on his datapad, studying the

  terminology. "I see nothing to contradict the

  captain's assessment, Director Sivron,"

  he said.

  "All right, the resolution has passed,"

  Sivron said. "We shall direct the prototype

  back into the Maw, using our previous flight

  path. Captain, take care of the details."

  "Yes, sir," the stormtrooper captain said.

  "So that's all settled, then," Tol

  Sivron said, clacking his long claws on the

  tabletop. "If we have no new business, the

  meeting is adjourned."

  Everyone stood to leave, brushing their uniforms and

  stepping away from the table.

  Tol Sivron looked at the small

  chronometer; barely two hours had passed.

  He blinked his beady eyes in surprise. This

  had been one of his shortest meetings ever.

  Threepio's dizzying preoccupation with battle

  configurations and tactics and ships swarming around the

  five gamma assault shuttles absorbed all

  his concentration. He forgot entirely about his dread.

  The Gorgon cruised ominously overhead,

  firing down on the Installation or shooting across at

  the New Republic ships.

  Chewbacca growled, squinting his fur — rimmed

  eyes to study the Star Destroyer's firing

  pattern. He chuffed and grunted an idea

  to Threepio and, without waiting for a response,

  opened the tight — beam ship — to — ship communications

  systems.

  Chewbacca spoke rapidly in the Wookiee

  language, which Threepio decided was a

  tactically wise thing to do. Although he himself was a

  protocol droid and understood more than six

  million forms of communication, he doubted that

  anyone on the Gorgon would know what Chewbacca

  was saying.

  Even as acknowledgment came from the Wookiee

  pilots in the other assault shuttles,

  Threepio broke away from his full concentration

  to speak to the Wookiee. "I simply

  don't see how we can possibly take out all

  of the starboard turbolaser banks on the Star

  Destroyer. It's suicide. Why don't we

  wait for more fighters from the New Republic

  ships? I think that would be by far the safest

  strategy."

  Chewbacca snarled, and Threepio decided it

  was unwise to press the point any further.

  A combat wing of TIE fighters soared past

  them, firing bursts from their laser cannons. One

  of the assault shuttles passed into the

  crossfire, and as Threepio reconstructed the

  images an instant later, he determined that it

  received eight direct hits within two seconds.

  Its shields failed. Hull plates buckled,

  and the shuttle exploded as the TIE fighters

  roared past to face the X — wings and ally — wings

  pouring from the New Republic battleships.

  Chewbacca let out a grief — stricken roar at

  seeing some of his newly rescued friends die. The

  cry was echoed across the comm system by the other

  Wookiees.

  With the explosion Threepio experienced a sudden

  disorientation; he had been partially linked to the

  destroyed ship. It felt as if a part of him had

  been disconnected.

  "Oh, dear!" he said, then shifted his

  concentration to managing the other shuttles.

  "Chewbacca, you have my complete support. We

  simply cannot allow them to do this sort of thing."

  Chewbacca roared agreement and gave

  Threepio a comradely slap on the back that

  practically sent the droid through the control

  panels.

  A tiny streak of light shot past them, and

  Threepio was able to freeze the image in his

  optical sensors: it was the angular crystalline

  shape of a tiny two — man ship. He recognized

  it instantly.

  "Oh, my, isn't that the Sun Crusher?"

  Threepio asked.

  Preoccupied, Chewbacca roared a challenge

  as the four remaining assault shuttles cruised

  low over the Gorgon's starboard side. They

  soared above the complex topography of the hull, a

  blur of indecipherable outcroppings, piping,

  fuel shafts, portholes, and life — support

  equipment. Daala's heavy turbolasers shot

  alternately at the Maw Installation and at the

  New Republic starfighters.

  Seven TIE fighters broke away from the

  main attack and circled back to head off

  Chewbacca's squadron. But the Wookiees

  unleashed a smoking volley from the assault

  shuttle's heavy blaster cannons. Stunted

  old Nawruun and several other Wookiees sat

  in the gunner seats and fired relentlessly.

  A web of blaster bolts spewed from the

  shuttles, clipping four of the attacking TIE

  fighters. Two others veered wildly away from the

  sudden firepower and careened into the side of the

  Gorgon. The lone survivor of the attack

  group peeled off and fled to get reinforcements.

  Chewbacca grunted in satisfaction.

  The assault shuttles hammered the Star

  Destroyer's turbolaser batteries as they

  streaked back and forth, launching their store of

  concussion missiles. With the smoldering eruptions of

  hull plates and exploding weapons systems, the

  Gorgon was defenseless on one side.

  "Oh, well done, Chewbacca!" Threepio

  cried. "You did it."

  Chewbacca purred in satisfaction. Loud,

  triumphant roars came from the back of the

  assault shuttle and the gunner bay. But as

  TIE reinforcements arrowed toward them, Threepio

  decided it was time to cease the frivolity.

  "Excuse me, sir," he said, "but hadn't

  we better retreat now?"

  Like a master pilot Kyp Durron brought the

  Sun Crusher into a berth on one of the

  pla
netoids. He maneuvered the thorn — shaped

  ship through the blast doors and into the bay.

  Luke let the young man pilot as he himself

  worked the communications systems, transmitting to the

  escort frigate and then to the Installation operations

  center.

  "Wedge, are you there? Are you all right? Tell

  me what's going on. This is Luke."

  A response came over the comm, accompanied

  by a cacophony of alarms and shouted orders,

  status reports, and the background rumble of

  direct hits from the Star Destroyer.

  "Luke, you're alive! What are you doing

  here?"

  He realized that Wedge had been inside the

  Maw cluster since before the defeat of Exar

  Kun. "We brought the Sun Crusher here

  to destroy it. But it looks like you're

  having problems of your own."

  "I'd need a few hours to tell you everything

  that's happened since this operation started," Wedge

  said. His voice was harried. "Are you safe?"

  "We're fine for now, Wedge. We're landing

  in one of your maintenance bays."

  "Good. I can sure use whatever help you can

  offer."

  After Kyp secured the Sun Crusher, he

  popped open the hatch, and the two of them clambered

  down the metal ladder. They set off at a

  brisk jog through the curving corridors that

  tunneled through the dead rock. The rhythmic pounding

  of Daala's repeated blasts echoed through the

  tunnels.

  The two of them spilled into the operations center,

  trying to make sense of the frenzy of preparations

  Wedge had underway.

  Wedge Antilles ran forward to embrace his

  friend. Both men clapped each other on the back.

  "I'm so glad you're back with us," Wedge said

  in a voice filled with unasked questions. Then he

  flashed a distrustful glance at Kyp Durron,

  who stood contritely on the threshold. "What's

  he doing here?"

  Beside him Qwi Xux also saw him and gasped,

  taking a step backward.

  "I'm sorry," Kyp said quietly.

  Luke looked sternly at Wedge. "Kyp is

  here to help us, Wedge. He has returned from the

  dark side, and I've made my peace with him.

  If you still hold a grudge, then take it up with

  him once this is all over."

  Wedge looked to Qwi, and her gentle narrow

  face tightened before she nodded briefly.

  "Kyp came here to destroy the Sun Crusher

  as a form of penance, but now — was Luke gripped his

  apprentice's shoulder. "Now we are two Jedi

  offering our services in this fight."

  Wedge called to one of the other commandos. "Give

  me a status update now," he said.

  The tactical crew rattled off a list of

  starfighters deployed, shots fired, a tally of

  enemy and ally losses. "Chewbacca's team

  appears to have knocked out the Gorgon's starboard

  turbolaser batteries."

  Wedge looked relieved. "If only we can

  keep damaging Daala faster than she can

  damage us." He shook his head.

  "Where's Han?" Luke asked.

  Kyp perked up, eagerly awaiting the answer.

  Wedge frowned. "What do you mean?" Luke

  explained about the prototype and how Han,

  Lando, and Mara Jade had last been seen

  inside its superstructure.

  Wedge shook his head. "The Sun Crusher and the

  Gorgon are already here — notow you're telling me the

  Death Star is coming back?" He blinked in

  disbelief before starting to snap out orders to the

  tactical team. "You heard what Luke said!

  Looks like we've got another surprise coming

  our way."

  It didn't seem possible, but everyone

  managed to bustle a little faster. Luke stared through

  the broad skylights of the operations center. He

  sensed it before he saw it.

  Through the flaring lights of battle overhead and the

  muffled din of repeated explosions, the armillary

  sphere of the Death Star prototype emerged through the

  pastel glow of the Maw and entered the fray.

  The Millennium Falcon's landing claw

  clung to the Death Star's superstructure as the

  skeletal sphere lurched into motion again and careened

  through the black hole cluster.

  Han, Mara, and Lando sat strapped into theirthe

  swiveling seats, gritting their teeth from

  gravity's onslaught. The Falcon held

  on, but the prototype bucked from the enormous

  tidal pulls.

  Once the rough passage was over, Han

  scanned the diagnostics. "Got to do something about

  these hyperdrives," he said. "If we fly fast

  enough, we could just blow the reactor core and run.

  But the way the Falcon's limping along, we'd

  never get away in time."

  Han turned his seat to look at Lando and

  Mara. He wiped dark hair away from his eyes.

  "And even if we did get away in time, we'd

  never make it back through the Maw cluster without

  top — notch maneuverability."

  "Not to mention we don't know the way out,"

  Mara said. "My Jedi instincts aren't strong enough

  for a job like that."

  "Uh, now, that's another good point

  ...," Han admitted.

  "But Han," Lando said, "we've got to do

  something. If the Death Star's come back to Maw

  Installation, it's bound to be up to no good."

  "Yeah," Han said, nodding grimly.

  "Chewie is in here with the rest of the occupation force.

  I won't just leave him if he's in trouble."

  Mara pulled herself to her feet. "So it's

  obvious," she said. "We've got

  to deactivate that superlaser." She shrugged.

  "As long as we're here."

  "But the hyperdrive engines — was Han began.

  "You've got environment suits, don't you?"

  she said. "A light freighter like the Falcon

  ought to have at least a couple for emergency

  repairs."

  "Yesss," Han said, drawing out the word, still

  unable to guess what Mara had in mind. "I've

  got two suits: one for me and one for Chewie."

  "Good," Mara said, cracking her knuckles.

  "Calrissian and I will go out and plant timed

  detonators on the reactor core. You work on

  the hyperdrive engines. The timers will let us get

  out of the superstructure before they blow."

  Lando's mouth dropped open. "You want

  me — his"

  Her eyes challenged him. "Got any better

  ideas?"

  He shrugged and grinned. "Why, no. I'd be

  honored to escort you, Mara."

  Lando sneezed as he tugged on the huge padded

  suit. "This whole thing smells like Wookiee

  hair," he said. "Did Chewbacca exercise in

  this thing and put it away wet?"

  The sleeves were enormous, and his feet swam

  in the Wookiee — sized boots. He tugged the

  bulky fabric around his waist, fold upon fold,

  and then used the adjustment straps to cinch it tighter

  around him. He felt as if he were walking inside

 
a giant inflated mattress.

  "We've got a job to do, Calrissian,"

  Mara said. "Quit complaining or I'll do it

  myself."

  "No," Lando said. "I want to help you.

  Really."

  "Here." Mara held out a case of the timed

  detonators. "Carry these."

  Lando looked down at them and swallowed.

  "Thanks."

  Han gave a hollow grunt of pain as he

  bumped his head on something down in the repair

  crawl space. Lando heard his friend mutter something

  about wishing for a decent droid to do the dirty work.

  "A couple of the components are fried," Han

  called up to them. His voice sounded tinny through the

  compartment. "But I've got spares — or at least

  close enough that I can get the ship running again.

  We've got three fused circuits. One we

  can get by without; two I can bypass."

  "We'll give you half an hour," Mara

  said, pulling the helmet on and sealing it over her

  neck.

  Han repositioned himself in the coffin — sized

  maintenance bay to stick his head above the deck

  plates. Grease and leaked coolant stained his

  cheeks. "I'll be ready."

  "You better be, if we trigger those timers,"

  Lando said, and secured his own helmet. It

  seemed as large as a shuttlecraft on his head.

  "Come on, Calrissian," Mara said.

  "We've got some wrecking to do."

  From his comfortable chair Tol Sivron squinted

  out at the panorama of the Maw's center,

  assessing the situation but making no decisions — like

  a good manager.

  "It's the Star Destroyer Gorgon, sir,"

  the stormtrooper captain said. "Shall I hail

  it?"

  Sivron scowled. "About time Admiral

  Daala came back to do her duty," he said.

  It still rankled him that she had abandoned her

  primary mission of protecting the Maw

  scientists. Now that the Rebels had already taken

  over the Installation, it was too late for her

  to make amends.

  "Why did she come back with only one Star

  Destroyer?" Sivron said. "She had four.

  No, wait — one was destroyed, wasn't it?

  Well, three, anyway. Does she simply

  want to flaunt her weaponry?" He sniffed.

  "Well, this time we've got our own Death Star,

  and we're not afraid to use it."

  "Excuse me, Director," the captain

  said, "but the Gorgon appears to be severely

  damaged. The Rebel forces are attacking her.

  I believe it's our duty to come to her aid."

  Tol Sivron looked at the captain