Free Apocalypse by Troy Denning Page A

looking toward the back of the flight deck where R2-D2 was monitoring the comm station.
    “Did you hear that?” he demanded. “She deactivated me!”
    R2-D2 spun his dome toward the front of the flight deck, then emitted a long series of urgent whistles.
    “What’s wrong?” Han demanded. C-3PO was out on loan, helping Raynar Thul figure out exactly what Abeloth was—and, with any luck, where she had disappeared to—so Han didn’t have anyone to translate the little droid’s beeps and whistles. “If she used a blaster on that intercom station, she’s riding out of here in a strut well!”
    An alert chime sounded from the main display, and Han turned around to find a message from R2-D2 scrolling across the screen. THE NEWS IS WORSE THAN THAT. VHORK LEADER REPORTS THAT A WING OF SKIPRAY BLASTBOATS HAS RECENTLY EMERGED FROM HYPERSPACE .
    Han’s heart began to pound ferociously, but he forced himself to remain calm. Vhork Squadron—named for a giant Daruvvian hawk that took a dim view of airspeeders encroaching on its territory—was the best starfighter squadron in the Hapan Royal Navy, and that was why they were flying top cover for the mission.
    “Okay,” Han said cautiously. “So Vhork Squadron is moving to engage, right?”
    R2 gave a negative chirp, then followed it with an explanatory note: INTERCEPTION FAILED. THE ENEMY ACTIVATED A JAMMING DEVICE AND DROPPED INTO THE ATMOSPHERE. VHORK LEADER REPORTS THREE TARGETS ELIMINATED, BUT THE OTHER BLASTBOATS ESCAPED, FORTY-SEVEN SECONDS AGO .
    “And they’re just telling us now?”
    VHORK SQUADRON IS ATTEMPTING TO REACQUIRE THE ENEMY, AND HER MAJESTY HAS DISPATCHED FOUR MIY’TIL WINGS TO SUPPORT THE EFFORT .
    “Okay, plot a launch vector and have the starfighter wings assemble at the other end. We’ll bring the Sith to
them
.”
    R2-D2 gave a confirming tweedle, then Han slapped the activation switch on the
Falcon
’s comm unit and opened a channel to the rest of the convoy.
    “Listen up …” He relayed the details of the report he had just received. “My guess is we’ve got about five minutes before those blastboats pop out of the rift valley and start vaping anything with an ion drive. So get your cargo stowed, your hatches secured, and launch …”
    Han checked his primary display for the vector.
    “… local north at a seventy-degree climb.
Don’t
stray out of that ascension corridor, or you’ll be entering the free-fire zone.”
    “What free-fire zone?” a Hapan pilot asked. “No one mentioned any free-fire zones in the briefing.”
    “Plan B,” Han said. “Our fighter cover is going to zone defense.”
    “Plan B called for us to drop into the rift valley and wait for an escort,” a second pilot reminded him.
    “This is the
new
Plan B,” Han replied. “Trust me, the last thing you want is to be down in that valley with a bunch of Sith hunting you in the fog.”
    Han tried to raise Leia again on the cargo hold intercom, but all he got was dead air. “Blast!” He turned to R2-D2. “Take a holo.”
    The droid spun his dome around until the cam lens was pointed in Han’s direction. When the red RECORD light activated, Han began to speak.
    “Leia, we’ve got a bunch of blastboats on their way. We need to be locked down and launched in five minutes. And while you’re at it, reactivate the intercom back there!” He paused until the RECORD light darkened, then addressed R2-D2 himself. “Show that to Leia—and
don’t
let her ignore you. Get in her way if you have to.”
    Another alert chime sounded from the main display, and Han turned to find another message from R2-D2.
    FIVE MINUTES CUTS THE ESCAPE SAFETY MARGIN TO ZERO .
    “I hate to break this to you, Artoo,” Han said, “but we never
had
a safety margin.”
    UNDERSTOOD. EVACUATION PROCEEDING AS PLANNED .
    The droid retracted his interface arm and started down the access corridor toward the main cabin. Han began to prep the
Falcon
for a hot launch. The fusion core was