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Authors: Timothy Zahn
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connectors, ejecting both wings to tumble to their destruction against the umbrella shields below, he deftly slid the cockpit section of his TIE sideways through the flytrap opening.
Nuso Esva’s gunners must have instantly spotted their fatal error. But it was already too late. Even as they tried to bring the cannon around again, Fel rotated on his repulsorlifts and fired a close-in double burst from his own laser cannons. The bolts shattered the emplacement’s rotational platform, leaving the weapons frozen in place, pointed uselessly at the sky.
Then, flying low over the houses, dipping and dodging where necessary to avoid the umbrella shields’ edges, Fel began blasting the houses where those shield generators were located. The rest of Gray Squadron was right behind him, dropping through the ever-widening hole and joining in the task of systematically peeling open the nice secure lair that Nuso Esva had built for himself.
And as the rest of his squadron continued their destruction of the shield generators, Fel shifted to his own special assigned task. Flying widely across the edge of the city, he began eliminating the Queen’s communication loudspeakers.
All of them, that is, except one. For that one, Grand Admiral Thrawn had something special planned.
“There is trouble,” the Queen said.
For a few seconds Nuso Esva ignored her as he continued to jabber on his private farspeak in his incomprehensible alien language. Trevik braced himself, wondering what the Queen would say or do at this latest insult to her.
But she sat quietly on her litter, waiting with eerie patience for Nuso Esva to finish his other conversation. The alien talk ended, and Nuso Esva jammed the farspeak back into his belt. “There is trouble,” the Queen repeated.
“Nothing that can’t be handled,” Nuso Esva growled, his voice barely within the limits of civility. “As soon as your Soldiers breach the juggernauts—”
“There is trouble,” the Queen said again, much more emphatically. “Enemy aircraft fly free over my city, destroying the homes of Circlings and Midlis. You said that would not happen. You said that /could/ not happen.”
Nuso Esva seemed to gather himself together. “Calm yourself, O Queen,” he said, more politely this time. “The fighters may have breached the outer parts of the city, but there’s another angled rim to the shield array farther in. That edge will keep them out of the palace grounds and away from us.”
“Yet they have entered my city,” the Queen persisted. “You said they would not. You lied.”
“They won’t be there for long,” Nuso Esva said. “Unlike the primitive cannons my Chosen have been forced to work with, the juggernauts’ weaponry is equipped with computerized sensor targeting capabilities. Once we’ve gained control of them—”
One of the Storm-hairs by the monitors called something in the alien language. “The hatches are breached,” Nuso Esva announced. “Now watch as I destroy the enemy fighters.”
Trevik looked at the monitors. One of them showed an image that bounced dizzyingly while the Storm-hair carrying the holocam ran behind a group of Soldiers through the jagged metal edge where a hatch had once been. The Soldiers rushed inside, spreading aside out of the view of the cam.
Suddenly the image went still. Very still. For a pair of seconds it showed a view of a compact metal chamber, empty except for blinking lights, softly glowing displays, and some sort of small, round-topped metal object at the far end. Abruptly, the image spun around, paused, spun around again, paused again—
Nuso Esva spat something vile sounding. “No,” he bit out as he snatched
up his farspeak. /“No!”/
“What is it?” the Queen demanded. “What’s happened?”
Nuso Esva ignored her, snarling more of his alien speech into his farspeak. The image on the monitor began bouncing again as the
Nuso Esva’s gunners must have instantly spotted their fatal error. But it was already too late. Even as they tried to bring the cannon around again, Fel rotated on his repulsorlifts and fired a close-in double burst from his own laser cannons. The bolts shattered the emplacement’s rotational platform, leaving the weapons frozen in place, pointed uselessly at the sky.
Then, flying low over the houses, dipping and dodging where necessary to avoid the umbrella shields’ edges, Fel began blasting the houses where those shield generators were located. The rest of Gray Squadron was right behind him, dropping through the ever-widening hole and joining in the task of systematically peeling open the nice secure lair that Nuso Esva had built for himself.
And as the rest of his squadron continued their destruction of the shield generators, Fel shifted to his own special assigned task. Flying widely across the edge of the city, he began eliminating the Queen’s communication loudspeakers.
All of them, that is, except one. For that one, Grand Admiral Thrawn had something special planned.
“There is trouble,” the Queen said.
For a few seconds Nuso Esva ignored her as he continued to jabber on his private farspeak in his incomprehensible alien language. Trevik braced himself, wondering what the Queen would say or do at this latest insult to her.
But she sat quietly on her litter, waiting with eerie patience for Nuso Esva to finish his other conversation. The alien talk ended, and Nuso Esva jammed the farspeak back into his belt. “There is trouble,” the Queen repeated.
“Nothing that can’t be handled,” Nuso Esva growled, his voice barely within the limits of civility. “As soon as your Soldiers breach the juggernauts—”
“There is trouble,” the Queen said again, much more emphatically. “Enemy aircraft fly free over my city, destroying the homes of Circlings and Midlis. You said that would not happen. You said that /could/ not happen.”
Nuso Esva seemed to gather himself together. “Calm yourself, O Queen,” he said, more politely this time. “The fighters may have breached the outer parts of the city, but there’s another angled rim to the shield array farther in. That edge will keep them out of the palace grounds and away from us.”
“Yet they have entered my city,” the Queen persisted. “You said they would not. You lied.”
“They won’t be there for long,” Nuso Esva said. “Unlike the primitive cannons my Chosen have been forced to work with, the juggernauts’ weaponry is equipped with computerized sensor targeting capabilities. Once we’ve gained control of them—”
One of the Storm-hairs by the monitors called something in the alien language. “The hatches are breached,” Nuso Esva announced. “Now watch as I destroy the enemy fighters.”
Trevik looked at the monitors. One of them showed an image that bounced dizzyingly while the Storm-hair carrying the holocam ran behind a group of Soldiers through the jagged metal edge where a hatch had once been. The Soldiers rushed inside, spreading aside out of the view of the cam.
Suddenly the image went still. Very still. For a pair of seconds it showed a view of a compact metal chamber, empty except for blinking lights, softly glowing displays, and some sort of small, round-topped metal object at the far end. Abruptly, the image spun around, paused, spun around again, paused again—
Nuso Esva spat something vile sounding. “No,” he bit out as he snatched
up his farspeak. /“No!”/
“What is it?” the Queen demanded. “What’s happened?”
Nuso Esva ignored her, snarling more of his alien speech into his farspeak. The image on the monitor began bouncing again as the
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