Vision of the future

'Deadly serious,' Lando said. 'My friend's in danger, and I'm the only one who can help him.' For a long moment the Diamal stared at him. 'Very well,' he said at last. 'High Councilor Organa Solo's private comlink frequency only. And for no more than two minutes.'

'Done.' Lando nodded. 'How fast can you arrange it?' Miatamia turned toward the observation deck's intercom and spoke rapidly in the Diamalan language. He was answered in kind. There was one more quick exchange—'It is done,' he said, turning back to Lando. 'Your two minutes are running.'

Lando already had his comlink out and keyed. 'Leia?'

'Lando!' her relieved voice came back instantly. 'I was hoping to get through to you. Han's in trouble.'

'I know,' Lando said. 'He went with Carib to check out the comet and asked me to watch with macrobinoculars. They cut in close to the surface, and then just disappeared.'

'What do you mean, disappeared?' Leia asked anxiously. 'As if they'd crashed?'

'No,' Lando said grimly. 'As if they'd dipped inside a cloaking shield.' He heard her sharp intake of air. 'Lando, we've got to get over there right away. If there's an Imperial ship hiding out there—'

'Hey, no argument here,' Lando said. 'But I've already used up all my favors getting this call through.'

'All right,' Leia said, her voice suddenly dark. 'It's up to me, then.'

'What are you going to do?' Lando asked.

'I'm going to help Han,' she said, her voice as cold as he'd ever heard it. 'Stay clear—you don't want to get involved in this.'

The transmission clicked off. 'Too late for that, Leia,' he muttered at the dead comlink. 'Years and years too late.'

* * *

Another barrage of turbolaser fire lanced out from the nearest of the two Golan weapons platforms, the spread targeting the group of starfighters harrying its flank. Wedge twisted his X-wing safely between the shots and did a quick check of the rest of his squadron. As with the last such salvo, and the four or five before it, none of them had taken any damage.

Neither, as far as he could tell, had anyone else in the attack fleet. Bel Iblis's strategy of staying just at the edge of the Golans' kill zone had so far paid off.

But that strategy was about to change.

'All fighter wings, this is Perris,' the voice of the Peregrine's fighter commander came tautly through his headset. 'Captain Tre-na has confirmed that General Bel Iblis is definitely in trouble in there.'

Wedge grimaced, wondering what about the situation had needed any confirmation in the first place. Nose to nose with another Imperial Star Destroyer, pinned in place by probably every heavy tractor beam the Ubiqtorate base could bring to bear—

'Look—they're firing,' Rogue Five snapped. 'Everything they've got, looks like.'

'I see it,' Wedge said, gazing through the separating distance at the blaze of turbolaser fire flashing out from the Errant Venture, his last faint hope that Bel Iblis might still be able to talk his way out of this evaporating like morning mist at sunrise. If he'd opened fire on the base, it meant the bluff had failed.

It also meant he was running low on time. That second Star Destroyer, not to mention the Ubiqtorate base commander, wasn't just going to sit there while Bel Iblis vaped their tractor emplacements and got away.

Tre-na and the rest of the fleet command staff aboard the Peregrine had clearly come to the same conclusion. 'Okay, fighters,' Perris said. 'The fleet's going in, and we're going in hard. Your job is to draw fire away from the main ships, help wherever you can to punch a hole in the defense perimeter, and be ready to run screen when the Imperials finally launch their own fighters. All wings, acknowledge and prepare.'

'Rogue Leader, copy,' Wedge said, then keyed for the squadron's private frequency. 'Well, Rogues, you've all had a look at the perimeter. Any thoughts on where the weak spots are?'

'Maybe,' Rogue Twelve said. 'Seems to me the turbolasers on the starboard side of that second Golan have a slight flutter.'

'You sure?' Rogue Three asked. 'I didn't notice anything.'