28

On the Gorgon’s bridge, Admiral Daala watched in horror as the Hydra crumpled into destruction, its command bridge blown apart from the impact of the Sun Crusher. The battleship’s only survivors would be the fighters in the six TIE squadrons; otherwise, all hands would be lost.

Though her expression was carved in ice, hot tears burned unshed in Daala’s eyes. Thousands of people crashed to their deaths as the Hydra fell like a great slain dragon into the black whirlpool.

Glinting with its maddening invincibility, the Sun Crusher streaked through the wreckage, arrowing for the outer wall of the Maw.

“After them!” Daala snapped. “Full pursuit.”

Failure crashed down on her like an anvil. She had been hiding in the Maw for too long, drilling her troops, putting them through practice exercises and dress rehearsals—but that had not been enough. In her first actual battle Daala had lost a quarter of her command—against four escaped prisoners!

Grand Moff Tarkin would have struck her sharply across the face and relieved her of her rank. Daala’s cheeks stung with the imaginary blow. “They will regret the day they ever unleashed us!” she whispered.

But without the Sun Crusher, her plans to spread havoc among the New Republic would fall apart. She took a deep, sharp breath. No time to panic now. Think fast. Make decisions. Salvage the situation.

The communications dais shimmered, and an image of Tol Sivron appeared. The transmission flickered with staticky disruptions caused by the laser blasts flashing around them. “Admiral Daala! If you intend to deploy your fleet, I insist that you take the scientists of Maw Installation with you.”

Not bothering to turn and look at the image of the Twi’lek, Daala continued to watch the Hydra’s fiery death. She thought of all the run-ins she’d had with the administrator—Sivron’s incompetence, his delays, his excuses, his insistence on reports and tests ad nauseum. “You’re on your own, Tol Sivron. It is time we do our duty as Imperial soldiers.”

Tol Sivron flicked his head-tails straight out behind him in agitation. “Are you just going to leave us undefended? What about the orders Grand Moff Tarkin gave you? You are supposed to protect us! At least leave one of your Star Destroyers behind.”

Daala shook her head, making coppery hair stream around her. “Tarkin is dead, and I’m making all the decisions now. I need every ounce of firepower to deal a fatal blow to the New Republic.”

“Admiral Daala, I must insist—”

Daala yanked out the blaster pistol at her hip and pointed it at Sivron’s image on the communications dais. If the Twi’lek had been on the bridge in person, she would have killed him; but she would not destroy valuable equipment in a fit of anger. Keeping the blaster pointed directly into Tol Sivron’s image, as if to threaten him, she strode forward. “Request denied, Director Sivron,” Daala said, then disconnected the dais. She turned back to watch her fleet, undisturbed.

“Commander Kratas, we are going to leave the Maw in pursuit of the Sun Crusher. Recall all TIE fighter squadrons, now!”

Kratas gave the order, and she watched as the tiny ships streamed back toward their bays. Daala fidgeted, hating the delay. “Have all three Star Destroyers link into the same course computer. I will call up the specific coordinates from my own personal records, coded to my password.”

The last time anyone had left Maw Installation, it had been the construction engineers—and they had been given the wrong course, dooming them to fall into one of the black holes. This time, though, Admiral Daala and all the firepower at her disposal would spring out upon the unwary galaxy, ready to take it back.

The Sun Crusher vibrated from a thousand stresses as it rode the razor’s edge of gravity through the maelstrom of the Maw.

Kyp Durron sat at the simplified controls, next to the watchful eyes of Han Solo, but Han didn’t dream of interfering with Kyp’s intuition, no matter how nightmarish the path ahead seemed.

Kyp half closed his eyes as he looked through a mental vision of the perilous maze to safety. He jerked the ship to starboard, then plunged down, frantically avoiding unseen obstacles. Han kept a firm, reassuring pressure on the kid’s shoulder. Hot gas blazed around them like hell’s furnace.

Qwi Xux stared at Kyp and his blind piloting, her dark-blue eyes wide and her face transfixed with terror.

“Don’t worry,” Han said. “The kid knows what he’s doing. He’ll get us through, if anybody can.”

“But how is he doing it?” Qwi’s voice sounded flutey, like high-pitched notes played by an amateur performer.

“Not in any way your science can explain. I’m not sure I understand the Force myself, but I don’t question it. I used to think it was a hokey religion, but not anymore.”

Abruptly the curtains of gas parted in front of them, peeling away to reveal the black infinity of open space. At last they were free of the Maw!

In their mad run away from the forces of Kessel, Luke and Lando tried to push through the clustered capital ships. They winced simultaneously every time a bolt impacted the Falcon’s shields.

The mammoth form of the Loronar strike cruiser lay directly across their path, cutting them off from a dubious escape into the Maw. The ten ion cannons mounted in front of the strike cruiser belched destruction at them.

One bolt struck the Millennium Falcon dead on, and their systems flickered as sparks flew out of the control panels. Lando grabbed at the overrides and yelled to Luke, “Our shields are failing, and these guys don’t want to take prisoners.”

“Just get us into the Maw,” Luke said. “It’s our only chance.”

“I never thought I’d be keeping my fingers crossed for that to happen!” Lando hunched over the controls. “Artoo, see if you can pump up the front shields. We’re going to take quite a pounding from that strike cruiser when we pass by. One good hit and we’re fried.”

“Wait,” Luke said, squinting at the swirling gases ahead of them. “Something’s coming out!”

The thornlike form of the Sun Crusher streaked away from the cluster, leaving a trail of hot gases. A few moments later three fully armed Imperial-class Star Destroyers charged out of the Maw like banthas on fire.

Han’s sigh of relief turned into an exclamation of dismay as he saw the array of Kessel’s battle fleet massed in front of them, weapons already blazing. “Where did all those ships come from! They can’t still be waiting for us!”

Exhausted from his piloting ordeal, Kyp said, “Han, why is it that every time we escape, we end up in a worse situation than the one we left?”

“Just good timing, kid.” He slammed his fist down on the armored controls. “This isn’t fair! They should have given us up for dead days ago!”

Chewbacca yowled and jabbed his hairy finger at the viewport, pointing to a ship at the vanguard of the gathered attack forces. The Millennium Falcon.

Han’s lip curled downward. “I’m going to get that slime merchant who’s flying my ship. Don’t we have any of our laser cannons still operational?”

After rechecking the banks of instruments, Chewbacca granted a negative.

“Then we’ll ram them like we did that Star Destroyer.”

“Han,” Kyp said, “it looks to me like those other ships are chasing the Falcon. They’re shooting at it.”

Han leaned forward to take a closer look. Qwi agreed with Kyp’s assessment. “That light freighter doesn’t appear to be part of the attacking fleet.”

Green turbolaser bolts streaked toward the Falcon from the system patrol craft, the big strike cruiser, and the Carrack-class light cruisers. Han’s expression changed immediately. “Hey, what’s going on here? They better not blow up my ship!”

Then Daala’s Star Destroyers emerged behind them, plowing their way out of the clutches of the Maw.

“Look on the rear screens, Han!” Kyp said.

The Star Destroyers Gorgon, Basilisk, and Manticore burst out like monsters leaping from a closet, giant demons loaded with destructive weaponry from the fallen Empire.

The pell-mell mercenary forces of Kessel, already firing their laser cannons at the Falcon, ran headlong into the Imperial fleet. Some peeled sideways, turning to flee back toward the sanctuary of Kessel. Others panicked and opened fire on the Star Destroyers.

Admiral Daala tried to control the actions of her entire fleet from a single station on the bridge. Encountering the strange warships on the other side of the Maw shocked her, but she reacted quickly. “Shields up! This was a trap. The Rebels had their forces here waiting.”

How had Han Solo deceived her interrogation droid? Had the Rebels somehow found out about the Installation and sent Solo inside with a cooked-up story to lure Daala’s fleet out where they could be destroyed?

She saw the enemy fleet opening fire on her ships, but they were no match for her firepower. After all, Grand Moff Tarkin had given her enough weaponry to slag whole planets.

“Battle stations! Let’s mop up this rabble once and for all.” She pointed to the conglomeration of fighters swarming across her path. “Open fire!”

•  •  •

Luke and Lando spared a moment to glance at each other as the crossfire erupted around them. “This could be our chance to get out of here!” Lando said.

“Yeah, they might not even notice us leaving,” Luke said.

“But where in the universe did those Star Destroyers come from?”

Suddenly a beep sounded from the Falcon’s comm-channels, distinctive because it sounded so innocent amid the warning tones of overloading systems and failing shields. Artoo whistled, calling attention to it. Lando looked down.

“We’re getting a message over the Falcon’s private comm frequency.” Lando frowned. “How would anybody know to transmit that? How would anybody even know the Falcon’s private code?”

Then Han Solo’s angry voice burst over the speaker. “Whoever is on the Falcon better have a damned good reason for flying my ship!”

“Han! Is that you?” Lando said. A sudden thrill surged through Luke.

“Lando?” Han said after a pause. Over the speakers Chewbacca’s roar drowned out Han’s own exclamation. “What are you doing here?”

In space around them, blinding lances of light flashed as the weapons of two fleets were brought to bear. Like rival krayt dragons in mating season, the Kessel and Imperial forces slammed into each other in a total free-for-all space brawl.

“Han, listen to me. Luke is here, too,” Lando said. “We’ve got to get away from Kessel, but the Falcon’s navicomputer is disabled. We can’t make the jump into hyperspace.”

An explosion rocked them from the starboard side, but most of the Kessel fighters concentrated their firepower on the much larger threat of Daala’s Imperial fleet. Though hopelessly outmatched, the three Carrack cruisers lined up and began to blast the Basilisk.

Over the private comm channel Han spoke to someone else behind him, then answered Lando. “We can dump the coordinates to your navicomp, and we’ll fly tandem back to Coruscant.”

Lando checked the computer, saw the numbers scrolling through, and raised a fist in triumph. “Got it! Artoo, get ready to go.”

“You’d better keep my ship safe, Lando,” Han said. “On my signal.”

“You have my word, Han.” Lando’s hands flew over the Falcon’s familiar controls.

“Ready to enter hyperspace!” Han said.

The Kessel forces flanked and attacked the far larger Star Destroyers, pummeling the Imperial ships with blasts from their ion cannons and turbolaser banks. But the Star Destroyers disgorged their own squadrons of TIE fighters to butcher the unregimented forces from Kessel.

“On your mark, Han!”

“Punch it!”

The last thing they saw was Kessel’s massive Loronar strike cruiser exploding under the concerted fire from the Manticore and the Gorgon. They watched the flaming hulk reel and ram into the Star Destroyer Basilisk, causing the bottom of the arrowhead hull to buckle and burn.

Then the universe filled with starlines.