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Authors: Alan Dean Foster
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prepared to dive once more into the heart of the Star Destroyer, a bug attacking a bantha.
But it was a bug with a very nasty bite.
—
On the main bridge of the
Finalizer
, General Hux peered overthe shoulder of Lieutenant Mitaka. While there could be no single central command station on a vessel as enormous as the Star Destroyer, Mitaka’s console approximated such a position as effectively as anything could.
Hux could hardly believe what he had been told. Not only had the prisoner escaped, he had managed to find his way to an operational hangar, slip aboard an outfitted and ready-to-flyfighter, and blast his way free. And not just any fighter, but a Special Forces TIE fighter. If the proof had not been right in front of him, making a treacherous nuisance of itself as the ship’s perceptors strove to keep track of the stolen fighter, Hux would not have believed such a thing possible.
A very slight shudder ran through the deck. Mitaka’s voice was even, but Hux could tell thatthe dark-haired lieutenant was shaken by what he was seeing. “They’ve taken out an entire bank of defensive weaponry. And they continue to attack. They’re not running.”
Hux didn’t understand. It was beyond comprehension. Prisoners
ran
from prisons, they didn’t stick around to assault their jailers. Theaction smacked of an unshakeable wish to commit suicide. What he knew of the escaped prisonerstrongly suggested a desire to live. What had happened to change him? Or, Hux thought, was the profile that had been drawn up by the psytechs simply wrong?
Formal profile or not, of one thing he was now certain: They had badly underestimated what had seemed to be a Resistance pilot on the verge of physical and emotional collapse.
“Engage the ventral cannons,” Hux ordered.
“Bringingthem online,” Mitaka said.
No matter how close a flight path the escaped pilot took, Hux knew that sensors would prevent the guns from firing adjacent to the ship’s structure itself. Exceptional pilot that he was, the escaped prisoner would know that. Probably he was counting on it, which was why he continued to fly so close to the destroyer’s surface instead of bolting for empty space. NowHux was counting on the pilot sustaining the same strategy. The longer he remained within the destroyer’s sphere of armed influence, the more forces could be brought against him, and the less chance he would have to make a second, more permanent escape.
A voice sounded behind him: unmistakable, controlled, and plainly displeased. “Is it the Resistance pilot?”
Hux turned to face Kylo Ren.Unable to see past the metallic mask, unable to perceive eyes or mouth, one had to rely on subtle changes in voice and tone to try to descry the tall man’s mood. Hux knew immediately that mood equaled if not exceeded his own consternation.
“Yes, and he had help.” Though Hux was loath to admit it, he had no choice. “One of our own. We’re checking the registers now to identify which stormtrooperit was.”
While the all-concealing mask made it difficult to tell the focus of Ren’s attention, it was plainly not on the general. “FN-2187.”
It unnerved Hux that Kylo Ren had managed to ascertain the identity of the rogue trooper before the ship’s own command staff. But then, Ren had access to a great many aspects of knowledge from which ordinary mortals like himself were excluded, Huxknew. Hewould have inquired further, but the taller figure had already turned and headed off. Ren’s indifference was far more unsettling than would have been anything as common as a straightforward insult. Shaking off the encounter, Hux turned his attention back to the lieutenant’s console.
“Ventral cannons hot,” the lieutenant reported.
“Fire,” Hux commanded.
—
One detonationfollowed another as the
Finalizer
’s weapons systems struggled to isolate the darting TIE fighter from the debris among which it danced. Poe was constantly changing his flight path, never doing
But it was a bug with a very nasty bite.
—
On the main bridge of the
Finalizer
, General Hux peered overthe shoulder of Lieutenant Mitaka. While there could be no single central command station on a vessel as enormous as the Star Destroyer, Mitaka’s console approximated such a position as effectively as anything could.
Hux could hardly believe what he had been told. Not only had the prisoner escaped, he had managed to find his way to an operational hangar, slip aboard an outfitted and ready-to-flyfighter, and blast his way free. And not just any fighter, but a Special Forces TIE fighter. If the proof had not been right in front of him, making a treacherous nuisance of itself as the ship’s perceptors strove to keep track of the stolen fighter, Hux would not have believed such a thing possible.
A very slight shudder ran through the deck. Mitaka’s voice was even, but Hux could tell thatthe dark-haired lieutenant was shaken by what he was seeing. “They’ve taken out an entire bank of defensive weaponry. And they continue to attack. They’re not running.”
Hux didn’t understand. It was beyond comprehension. Prisoners
ran
from prisons, they didn’t stick around to assault their jailers. Theaction smacked of an unshakeable wish to commit suicide. What he knew of the escaped prisonerstrongly suggested a desire to live. What had happened to change him? Or, Hux thought, was the profile that had been drawn up by the psytechs simply wrong?
Formal profile or not, of one thing he was now certain: They had badly underestimated what had seemed to be a Resistance pilot on the verge of physical and emotional collapse.
“Engage the ventral cannons,” Hux ordered.
“Bringingthem online,” Mitaka said.
No matter how close a flight path the escaped pilot took, Hux knew that sensors would prevent the guns from firing adjacent to the ship’s structure itself. Exceptional pilot that he was, the escaped prisoner would know that. Probably he was counting on it, which was why he continued to fly so close to the destroyer’s surface instead of bolting for empty space. NowHux was counting on the pilot sustaining the same strategy. The longer he remained within the destroyer’s sphere of armed influence, the more forces could be brought against him, and the less chance he would have to make a second, more permanent escape.
A voice sounded behind him: unmistakable, controlled, and plainly displeased. “Is it the Resistance pilot?”
Hux turned to face Kylo Ren.Unable to see past the metallic mask, unable to perceive eyes or mouth, one had to rely on subtle changes in voice and tone to try to descry the tall man’s mood. Hux knew immediately that mood equaled if not exceeded his own consternation.
“Yes, and he had help.” Though Hux was loath to admit it, he had no choice. “One of our own. We’re checking the registers now to identify which stormtrooperit was.”
While the all-concealing mask made it difficult to tell the focus of Ren’s attention, it was plainly not on the general. “FN-2187.”
It unnerved Hux that Kylo Ren had managed to ascertain the identity of the rogue trooper before the ship’s own command staff. But then, Ren had access to a great many aspects of knowledge from which ordinary mortals like himself were excluded, Huxknew. Hewould have inquired further, but the taller figure had already turned and headed off. Ren’s indifference was far more unsettling than would have been anything as common as a straightforward insult. Shaking off the encounter, Hux turned his attention back to the lieutenant’s console.
“Ventral cannons hot,” the lieutenant reported.
“Fire,” Hux commanded.
—
One detonationfollowed another as the
Finalizer
’s weapons systems struggled to isolate the darting TIE fighter from the debris among which it danced. Poe was constantly changing his flight path, never doing
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