Destiny's Way Read online

  Leia, striving to contain her laughter, detected what might have been amusement in Vana Dorja’s brown eyes.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Dorja conceded.

  “You’re right I’m right, Commander,” Han said, and poured himself a glass of water.

  His brief triumph was interrupted by a sudden shriek from the Falcon’s hyperdrive units. The ship shuddered. Proximity alarms wailed.

  Leia, her heart beating in synchrony to the blaring alarms, stared into Han’s startled brown eyes. Han turned to Commander Dorja.

  “Sorry to interrupt dinner just as it was getting interesting,” he said, “but I’m afraid we’ve got to blow some bad guys into small pieces.”

  The first thing Han Solo did when he scrambled into the pilot’s seat was to shut off the blaring alarms that were rattling his brain around inside his skull. Then he looked out the cockpit windows. The stars, he saw, had returned to their normal configuration—the Millennium Falcon had been yanked out of hyperspace. And Han had a good idea why, an idea that a glance at the sensor displays served only to confirm. He turned to Leia as she scrambled into the copilot’s chair.

  “Either a black hole has materialized in this sector, or we’ve hit a Yuuzhan Vong mine.” A dovin basal to be precise, an organic gravitic-anomaly generator that the Yuuzhan Vong used for both propelling their vessels and warping space around them. The Yuuzhan Vong had been seeding dovin basal mines along New Republic trade routes in order to drag unsuspecting transports out of hyperspace and into an ambush. But their mining efforts hadn’t extended this far along the Hydian Way, at least not until now.

  And there, Han saw in the displays, were the ambushers. Two flights of six coralskippers each, one positioned on either side of the dovin basal in order to intercept any unsuspecting transport.

  He reached for the controls, then hesitated, wondering if Leia should pilot while he ran for the turbolaser turret. No, he thought, he knew the Millennium Falcon, her capabilities, and her crotchets better than anyone, and good piloting was going to get them out of this trouble more than good shooting.

  “I’d better fly this one,” he said. “You take one of the quad lasers.” Regretting, as he spoke, that he wouldn’t get to blow things up, something always good for taking his mind off his troubles.

  Leia bent to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good luck, Slick,” she whispered, then squeezed his shoulder and slid silently out of the cockpit.

  “Good luck yourself,” Han said. “And find out if our guest is qualified to take the other turret.”

  His eyes were already scanning the displays as he automatically donned the comlink headset that would allow him to communicate with Leia at the laser cannon. Coralskippers weren’t hyperspace capable, so some larger craft had to have dropped them here. Was that ship still around, or had it moved on to lay another mine somewhere else?

  It had gone, apparently. There was no sign of it on the displays.

  The Yuuzhan Vong craft were just now beginning to react to his arrival—so much for the hope that the Millennium Falcon’s stealth capabilities would have kept her from being detected.

  But what, he considered, had the enemy seen? A Corellian Engineering YT-1300 freighter, similar to hundreds of other small freighters they must have encountered. The Yuuzhan Vong wouldn’t have seen the Falcon’s armament, her advanced shields, or the modifications to her sublight drives that could give even the swift coralskippers a run for their money.

  So the Millennium Falcon should continue, as far as the Yuuzhan Vong were concerned, to look like an innocent freighter.

  While he watched the Yuuzhan Vong maneuver, Han broadcast to the enemy a series of queries and demands for information of the sort that might come from a nervous civilian pilot. He conducted a series of basic maneuvers designed to keep the coralskippers at a distance, maneuvers as sluggish and hesitant as if he were a fat, nervous freighter loaded with cargo. The nearest flight of coralskippers set on a basic intercept course, not even bothering to deploy into military formation. The farthest flight, on the other side of the dovin basal mine, began a slow loop toward the Falcon, to support the others.

  Now that was interesting. In a short while they would have the dovin basal singularity between themselves and the Falcon, with the mine’s gravity-warping capabilities making it very difficult for them to see the Falcon or to detect any changes in her course.

  “Captain Solo?” A voice on the comlink intruded on his thoughts. “This is Commander Dorja. I’m readying the weapons in the dorsal turret.”

  “Try not to blow off the sensor dish,” Han told her.

  He looked at the displays, saw the far-side squadron nearing eclipse behind the distorting gravity mine. His hands closed on the controls, and he altered course directly for the dovin basal just as he gave full power to the sublight drives.

  The gravity mine was now between the Millennium Falcon and the far-side flight of coralskippers. The gravity warp surrounding the dovin basal would make it nearly impossible to detect the Falcon’s change of course.

  “We have about three standard minutes to contact with the enemy,” he said into the comlink headset. “Fire dead ahead, on my mark.”

  “Dead ahead?” came Dorja’s bland voice. “How unorthodox … have you considered maneuver?”

  “Don’t second-guess the pilot!” Leia’s voice snapped like a whip. “Keep this channel clear unless you have something of value to say!”

  “Apologies,” Dorja murmured.

  Han bit back his own annoyance. He glanced at the empty copilot’s chair—Chewbacca’s place, now Leia’s—and found himself wishing that he was in the second laser cockpit, with Chewbacca in the pilot’s seat. But Chewie was gone, the first of the deaths that had struck him to the heart. Chewbacca dead, his younger son Anakin killed, his older son Jacen missing, presumed dead by everyone except Leia … Death had been haunting his footsteps, on the verge of claiming everyone around him.

  That was why he hadn’t accepted Waroo’s offer to assume Chewbacca’s life debt. He simply hadn’t wanted to be responsible for the death of another friend.

  But now Leia believed that Jacen was alive. This wasn’t a vague hope based on a mother’s desire to see her son again, as Han had earlier suspected, but a sending through the Force, a message aimed at Leia herself.

  Han had no direct experience of the Force himself, but he knew he could trust Leia not to misread it. His son was alive.

  So maybe Death wasn’t following him so closely after all. Or maybe Han had just outrun him.

  Stay alert, he told himself. Stay strong. You may not have to die today.

  Cold determination filled him.

  Make the Yuuzhan Vong pay instead, he thought.

  He made a last scan of the displays. The near-side flight had turned to pursue, dividing into two V formations of three coralskippers each. They hadn’t reacted very quickly to his abrupt change of course, so Han figured he wasn’t dealing with a genius commander here, which was good.

  It was impossible to see the far-side flight on the other side of the gravity-distorting mine, but he had a good read on their trajectory, and there hadn’t been any reason for them to change it.

  The dovin basal swept closer. The Falcon’s spars moaned as they felt the tug of its gravity.

  “Ten seconds,” Han told Leia and Dorja, and reached for the triggers to the concussion missile launchers.

  Anticipation drew a metallic streak down his tongue. He felt a prickle of sweat on his scalp.

  “Five.” He triggered the first pair of concussion missiles, knowing that, unlike the laser cannon, they did not strike at the speed of light.

  “Two.” Han triggered another pair of missiles. The Millennium Falcon’s engines howled as they fought the pull of the dovin basal’s gravity.

  “Fire.” The dovin basal swept past, and suddenly the display lit with the six approaching coralskippers. The combined power of the eight lasers fired straight at them.


  The six coralskippers had also split into two Vs of three craft each, the formations on slightly diverging courses, but both formations were running into the Falcon and her armament at a combined velocity of better than 90 percent of the speed of light. None of them had shifted their dovin basals to warp space defensively ahead of them, and the pilots had only an instant to perceive the doom staring them in the face, and no time to react. The first formation ran right into the first pair of missiles and the turbolaser fire, and all three erupted in fire as their coral hulls shattered into fragments.

  The second formation, diverging, was not so suitably placed. One coralskipper was hit by a missile and pinwheeled off into the darkness, trailing flame. Another ran into a burst of laser fire and exploded. The third raced on, looping around the gravity mine where Han’s detectors could no longer see it.

  Exultation sang through Han’s heart. Four kills, one probable. Not a bad start at evening the odds.

  The Millennium Falcon shuddered to the gravitic pull of the dovin basal. Han frowned as he checked the sublight engine readouts. He had hoped to whip around the space mine and exit with enough velocity to escape the dovin basal’s gravity and get into hyperspace before the other flight of coralskippers could overtake him. But the dovin basal was more powerful than he’d expected, or possibly the Yuuzhan Vong commander was actually ordering it to increase its gravitational attraction—there was a lot the Republic didn’t know about how the Yuuzhan Vong equipment worked, so that was at least possible.

  In any case, the Falcon hadn’t picked up enough speed to be sure of a getaway. Which meant he had to think of something else brilliant to do.

  The other flight of six coralskippers was following him into the gravity well of the dovin basal, intent on staying with him. The one intact survivor of the second flight was in the act of whipping around the dovin basal, and wouldn’t enter into his calculations for the present.

  Well, he thought, if it worked once …

  “Hang on, ladies,” he called on the comlink. “We’re going around again!”

  Savage pleasure filled him as he swung Millennium Falcon around for another dive toward the dovin basal. Attack my galaxy, will you? he thought.

  They had doubtless seen the beginnings of his maneuver, so he altered his trajectory slightly to put the space mine directly between himself and the oncoming fighters. Then he altered his trajectory a second time, just to be safe. If the enemy commander had any sense, he’d be doing the same.

  Both sides were now blind. The problem was that the Yuuzhan Vong were alert to his tactics. They wouldn’t just run blindly toward him: they would have their dovin basal propulsor units shifted to repel any attack, and they’d come in shooting.

  “Be alert, people,” Han said. “We’re not going to be so lucky this time, and I can’t tell precisely where your targets are going to be. So be ready for them to be anywhere, right?”

  “Right,” Leia said.

  “Understood,” Dorja said.

  “Commander Dorja,” Leia said. “You’ll see that your four lasers are aimed so as to fire on slightly diverging paths.”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t readjust. There’s a reason for it.”

  “I presumed so. I won’t change the settings.”

  A pang of sorrow touched Han’s heart. It was his son Anakin who had discovered that if he fired three shots into a Yuuzhan Vong vessel at slightly diverging courses, at least one shot would curve around the gravity-warping dovin basal shields and hit the target. The quad lasers had been set to accomplish this automatically, without Anakin’s eye and fast reflexes.

  Anakin, who died at Myrkr.

  “Twenty seconds,” Han said, to cover both his own rising tension and the grief that flooded him.

  He triggered another pair of missiles at ten seconds, just in case he was lucky again and the enemy flight appeared right in front of him. And then, because he had no choice but to trust his luck, he fired another pair five seconds later.

  You are not keeping me from seeing Jacen again, he told the enemy.

  The next thing he knew plasma cannon projectiles of molten rock were cracking against the Falcon’s shields, and there was a blinding flash dead ahead as the first pair of concussion missiles found a target. Han’s heart throbbed as coral debris pounded on the deflectors, bounded off like multicolored sparks. There was a flicker on the displays as another coralskipper flashed past at a converging speed somewhere close to that of light, too fast for Han’s eye to track it.

  If he hadn’t blown up the first coralskipper, he might have actually collided with it and been vaporized along with the enemy.

  Han tried to calm his startled nerves as he kept his eyes on the displays, searching for more enemy craft around and behind the dovin basal. In a moment he understood the enemy’s tactic. The two Vs of three had split into three pairs and curved around the dovin basal on separate paths, in the apparent hope that at least one pair would be in a position to splash the Falcon as they flew past each other. It hadn’t worked, but by sheer chance one of them had almost taken out the Millennium Falcon through ramming. What, Han wondered, were the odds on that?

  The comm board began a rhythmic bleating, and Han shut it off. From the display he gathered that the Falcon had just lost her hyperspace comm antenna.

  Oh well. They hadn’t been planning to talk to anyone long distance, anyway.

  Feeling cheered by the thought that he’d win the battle in jig time if he could go on killing at least one coralskipper with each pass, he prepared to swing the ship around and dive toward the dovin basal yet again. And then his displays lit up at the appearance of an enemy fighter, the one intact survivor from the flight of six he’d splashed with his opening salvo. It was curving toward him, its plasma cannons spitting out a stream of molten projectiles.

  It was placed just so as to keep him from swinging around on the ideal trajectory for passing the dovin basal again. He suppressed the curses that were ringing around the inside of his skull and instead warned his two gunners.

  “Enemy skip on the port side, ladies.”

  He maneuvered so as to put the target in the money lane, where the fields of fire of both sets of lasers overlapped, and he heard the quads begin to chunder. Coherent light flashed around the enemy craft, curving weirdly as the dovin basal’s singularity-curved space to safeguard the target. Enemy fire spattered off the Falcon’s shields. Then flame sprayed from the coralskipper as one of the laser lances struck home. The craft seemed to stagger in its course. And then a second laser blast turned the coralskipper into a spray of flaming shards that shone briefly, like a falling firework, and was gone.

  “Nice shooting, Commander!”

  Leia’s voice, complimenting Dorja on the kill. Han realized to his pleasure that Vana Dorja apparently was qualified on the quad lasers.

  Six down, one damaged, five to go.

  Han hauled the Millennium Falcon around for another pass at the dovin basal, but he knew that the last coralskipper had delayed his maneuver to the point where it might be the enemy pouncing on the Falcon this time, not the other way around.

  A glance at the displays showed the five intact coralskippers had swept around again, with each two-skip unit—plus the singleton survivor of the third pair—on widely diverging courses. They would be sweeping past the dovin basal at different times, approaching from different angles. This meant that no matter what Han did, he wouldn’t be able to place the gravity-distorting singularity between himself and all the enemy at once. Those who could see him could communicate his position to those who couldn’t.

  The advantage he’d made for himself was gone. Someone on the other side must have had a brainstorm.

  But, Han realized, the fact that the enemy flights had separated meant he wouldn’t have to fight more than two at a time. That was something he could use.

  He looped around toward the dovin basal, letting its gravity draw him in.

  “How are we doing, Han?” Leia c
alled.

  “Plenty left in the old bag of tricks!” Han called back.

  But which trick? That was a puzzler, all right.

  His mind sawed at the problem as he dived for the singularity. It was clear that the first pair of enemy skips would arrive at the singularity before he did, and the single fighter at about the same time as the Falcon, with the other pair arriving afterward. The only way he’d be able to repeat the head-on attack that had worked the first time was if he did it on the third group of Yuuzhan Vong, and that meant running the gauntlet of the three other coralskippers. If he attacked the first pair, the others would arc around the dovin basal and be on his tail fast.

  The Yuuzhan Vong were prepared for any eventuality. Unless, of course, he simply didn’t do what they expected. If he didn’t dive into the dovin basal as their tactics clearly assumed …

  Han cut power to the sublight engines and hit the braking thrusters. The Millennium Falcon slowed as if she’d hit a patch of mud.

  “Skips crossing the bow port to starboard!” he called. A volley of plasma cannon projectiles preceded the lead pair of fighters that arced from behind the blind spot of the dovin basal, bright glowing projectiles that curved strangely in the mine’s weird gravity well. The projectiles crossed the Falcon’s bows at a comfortable distance, followed an instant later by the fighters themselves, both moving too fast to alter their trajectory once they saw the Falcon’s position. Laser fire pulsed around them, but Han didn’t see any hits. He was already pouring power to the sublight engines, letting the space mine’s gravity well take the Falcon into its embrace.

  He nearly missed his timing: the plasma cannon volley that preceded the single fighter’s appearance from around the singularity almost clipped his tail. The fighter itself crossed his stern at a blistering pace. Han wrenched the controls and altered course, heading not toward the dovin basal, but away from it.

  He was now counting on the fact that the enemy were communicating, but there was also an inevitable lag between their perception of the Falcon’s position, their transmission describing the position to comrades rendered blind on the far side of the dovin basal, and their comrades’ ability to act on that knowledge. He had dived for the dovin basal until the first pair of fighters were committed to their attack, then braked: the fighters had crossed ahead of him. Then, once the single fighter had been told the Falcon had slowed and altered its own course to intercept, Han had accelerated, and the fighter passed astern.