Read more
Informationen zum Autor Roger MacBride Allen Klappentext In this third and final volume of the Corellian trilogy, Han and Luke lead the Alliance in a mad scramble against the Selonian rebels for control of the planetary technology. When a loyalist ship approaching Selonia is blasted out of space, Han Solo quickly realizes that rebel forces are turning planetary repulsors into weapons of immense destruction. Meanwhile, Luke Skywalker and Lando Calrissian manage to discover the terrifying secret of Centerpoint Station. It is the infamous Starbuster itself, and its next programmed nova, hard-wired in, is set to annihilate a chosen star, its inhabited worlds, and millions of innocent lives. There's only one way to stop it: blow up the station. But as a massive rebel fleet closes in on Centerpoint, Han, Luke, and their friends will discover time is running out. Then the true leaders of the rebellion reveal their identities and issue their final ultimatum: The New Republic must withdraw all claim to power over the entire Corellian sector. With the future of Corellian freedom at stake, Han and those loyal to the Republic must somehow resist. But how can they possibly stop the deadliest weapon the galaxy has ever known?CHAPTER ONE Approach Honored Solo, we are running out of time!” the voice squawked from the comm unit. “We will be entering atmosphere soonest if our approach is not controlled!” The intercom gave out a strangled squeal. Either the comm circuit up to the ship’s control cabin was on the verge of giving out again, or else Han had just gotten lucky, and Dracmus was about to lose her voice. That would be a blessing. Han slapped the answer switch and tried to stay focused on his work. “Keep your shirt on, Dracmus,” he said, shouting just a bit. “The comm unit send-circuits needed work as well. Tell honored Pilot Salculd that I’m nearly done.” Why did the universe require all shipboard repairs to be on the rush? What I wouldn’t give to have Chewbacca here, Han thought. “What shirt?” the voice asked worriedly. “Should shirts be worn? Is this for safety?” Han sighed and pushed the answer button again. “It’s an expression. It means ‘be patient,’ ” he said, struggling to keep his own patience. Dracmus was a Selonian, and most Selonians did not like being in space. Understandable for a species that mostly lived underground, but having an agoraphobic being in command was enough to drive anyone crazy. Han Solo made the last hookup, closed down the last of the inspection hatches, and crossed his fingers for luck. That ought to do the trick, he told himself. It had better. It was about time that something worked properly. If the coneship he was aboard was a fair example of the breed, Selonian spacecraft weren’t much for reliability. Han engaged the power switch and waited for the inverter system to energize. Han was starting to question his own sanity in volunteering to help fly this particular coneship down out of free space to the surface of Selonia. He could have said so long and good luck and ridden down with Leia on the Jade’s Fire. But when a job needed doing, and no one else could do it, volunteering was not really all that voluntary. He hadn’t had much choice in the matter. He couldn’t have left Dracmus high and dry. He had obligations to her, and to her people. And Dracmus had made it clear they had to get this ship down. Her people couldn’t afford to abandon any spacecraft, no matter what shape the craft was in. The nameless coneship might be a piece of space-going junk, but Dracmus had assured Han that it was better than anything else the Selonians had at the moment. Or, more accurately, it was better than anything that the Hunchuzuc Den and their Republicists had. “Hurry, Honored Solo!” Dracmus called again. Why couldn’t that intercom break down the way everything else d...
