Sacrifice

So the Bothans thought they had a nice new asset to surprise the Alliance, but the Alliance had spotted it. Niathal waited for the reaction while the third flight of Mothma Squadron monitored the situation, weapons trained but not locked. There was no point blowing it to pieces before they'd taken the measure of the new class.

"Very heavy hull plating for a frigate," said Niathal, looking at the recce scans coming back from the starfighters. Piris pored over the images and penetrating scans, too. "At least a dozen turbolasers and twenty cannons."

"Not exceptional."

"Depends how many hulls they have."

They didn't have long to wait to find out how many vessels were out there. The weapons officer shouted at the same time as the sensor warning Klaxon sounded.

"Sir, enemy contact at—correction, multiple contacts in range.

We've got trade."

"Bounty, Daring, close up at battle stations, synchronize command information. Helm, all ahead. Qaresi Squadron, launch—Bronzium and remainder of air group, launch when ready."

Nobody said ambush. The cockpit chatter from the pilots broke in.

"Copy that. . . five, six . . . correction, ten—detecting cannons charging, will engage—"

"Targeting source."

"I make that nineteen—"

"He's got a lock on me."

"Got your six. Deploying chaff."