YAVIN 4
CHAPTER 54
Luke Skywalker’s voice echoed through the thick jungle and the sounds of battle. Callista froze when she heard him calling her name, and her resolve began to melt. She shouldn’t be leaving him—but she had to. There was only one way … if Callista had the courage to follow through.
“Callista!” Luke called again, but she plunged on through the underbrush, not looking back.
From above, bludgeons of turbolaser fire slashed through the atmosphere, leaving screeching ionization trails as Admiral Daala’s Knight Hammer pounded Yavin 4. Callista looked up and saw another blast come down. With a single strike, the Super Star Destroyer obliterated an acre of ages-old growth. One lucky shot could level the Great Temple.
According to Kyp Durron, Dorsk 81 had flung away an entire Imperial fleet, seventeen Star Destroyers hurled beyond the range of battle. The Jedi trainees would have been safe right now had it not been for the appearance of the Super Star Destroyer. The real enemy remained in orbit, out of range.
Callista pushed thorny twigs away from her face, searching for an opportunity. Up ahead in a flattened section of trees, broken branches, and plowed-up dirt, she spotted a crashed TIE bomber, a ship with angled power plates and a double cockpit, one for the pilot/bomber and a second to hold concussion missiles. The ship had been damaged, part of its rear engine exhausts crimped as if from a thrown boulder.
The TIE pilot wore an opaque black helmet and padded black flightsuit that seemed uncomfortable and cumbersome; he worked frantically and alone. He had straightened the exhaust crimp, with a toolkit from the cockpit, and test-fired the engines.
Callista seized the opportunity, plotting an unexpected way to strike at Daala. She didn’t have Jedi powers, and she was armed with only a lightsaber—but Callista knew she had the power to take out the Super Star Destroyer. She alone held that responsibility, and she had no choice but to follow it.
Moving silently with a smoothness born not from the Force but through her own training, Callista eased herself out of the thorny undergrowth and sprinted toward the TIE pilot as he moved toward the access hatch, ready to climb into his bomber again.
The pilot must have seen some flicker of motion through his helmet visor, though, some telltale signal that gave away Callista’s stealthy approach. He turned, and she found herself facing her dull reflection in the black plasteel of the facemask.
He reacted with blinding speed, snatching a blaster from the holster at his side. Callista kept moving, picking up momentum, her arm sweeping in an are as she punched the lightsaber’s power button. With a snap-hiss, the topaz beam speared out, dazzling the TIE pilot.
In a smooth stroke she lopped off his black-gloved hand. Before he could cry out in pain, holding up his smoldering stump, Callista struck sideways across his chest.
Deactivating the lightsaber, she didn’t slow as she kicked his steaming body away from the repaired TIE bomber. Callista hauled herself up to the hatch and dropped into the cramped cockpit.
Like a ghost, Luke’s voice echoed thinly through the trees, calling her name. But she forced herself not to hear it. She had seen her personal weakness, watching the other Jedi Knights fighting together—she wasn’t part of their brotherhood anymore. Callista would fight in a different way, her own way—and together they would all succeed.
She sealed the hatch overhead. The cockpit was cramped and smelled of old lubricants and stale flightsuits. The pilot would normally be wearing a breathmask and helmet, so he wouldn’t notice the recirculated air. Callista didn’t care.
She easily deciphered the controls. The Empire did not waste time or energy modifying their flight systems, and a TIE bomber still functioned the same way Imperial fighters had worked decades earlier, when Callista had first begun the fight.
The dark ship rose slowly from the crash scar as its engines warmed up. Climbing into the air above the tangled treetops, she could see the burn path where the damaged craft had plunged through the canopy.
Then the twin ion engines kicked in with a bone-chilling roar, and the TIE bomber angled up to where the atmosphere thinned—toward the Knight Hammer.
“I’m sorry, Luke,” Callista whispered, and continued on course.
The nightmare ship hovered overhead, eclipse-black and so large that Callista could barely grasp its size. She knew little of its internal configuration, though she had once studied sketches of Darth Vader’s flagship Executor. She knew, though, that the Super Star Destroyer—fabulously expensive and cumbersome despite the benefits it gave in sheer magnitude of weaponry—had very few vulnerabilities.
She had to get on board somehow and work from within.
The bomber’s engines didn’t respond at maximum capacity, but Callista headed toward the Knight Hammer with all the speed she could manage. Her mind spun as she tried to concoct a sufficiently audacious bluff that would allow her to land inside the bays: doubly difficult because she was a woman and could not immediately pass for a TIE bomber pilot; she would have to speak gruffly and muffle her words over the comm system.
Other TIE fighters spun about through space. Admiral Daala’s superiority over Yavin 4 seemed complete, and she could safely sit back and launch deadly volleys against the entire moon without risking herself.
Callista was surprised to hear a female voice over the comm channel, a battle director requesting her identification and status. A woman! Callista had never heard of the Empire placing female officers and bridge crew aboard their ships; Admiral Daala herself must have changed things. Callista swallowed and leaned forward to respond. She intentionally tuned the comm system slightly off-frequency.
“This is TIE bomber number—” she adjusted the knob to give a burst of static to obliterate her number, then switched back to a clear signal again, “—sustained heavy damage. All of our Star Destroyers are gone. The Jedi Knights did something, and the entire fleet … wiped out. No sign of them.”
“TIE bomber,” the female battle director transmitted back, “please repeat, with augmented details. Give a full summary of the battle below.”
“Most ground forces are destroyed,” Callista said. “The Jedi Knights have put up an incredible resistance, far more than we expected. Our losses are heavy. I’ve managed to escape, but my engines are damaged. I need a place to land right now.” Callista twisted the knob, adding a few extra bursts of static for good measure.
“State the extent of your damage,” the battle director said.
“Engines failing,” Callista answered. “My solar panel has been damaged. I think I’m leaking coolant or radiation … can’t be sure. Suggest you find an isolated bay where I can land. Evacuate it and seal down just in case something goes wrong. I’ll check the leakage and report.”
“Acknowledged, TIE bomber,” the battle director said. “We are eager to debrief you about the battle for Yavin 4.”
Callista smiled but made her voice sound ragged. “Understood.” She drifted toward the Super Star Destroyer until finally the battle director gave her instructions on where to land.
The rear bomber bay was cavernous, though the entrance seemed no more than a tiny blemish on the hull of the Knight Hammer. Callista guided her stolen ship inside and was immensely pleased to see that she had reached a hangar that held an entire squadron of TIE bombers. Apparently Admiral Daala was not planning to use this particular squadron, content to blast with her turbolasers. All personnel were evacuated from the bay because of possible hazardous leakage from Callista’s bomber.
As she landed, she found herself inside a vast unoccupied chamber filled with row upon row of TIE bombers each fully loaded with a complement of concussion missiles.
Callista’s lips curved in a hard smile. She couldn’t have hoped for better than this.