Two hundred and ninety-nine colossal Blood-Tax Star-Destroyers broke formation in total panic.
Their thrusters fired in wild, conflicting bursts. Purple plasma flared across the dark void as captains screamed over the emergency channels, desperately trying to turn their massive warships around.
Back when Lin Mo delivered takeout in Jiangcheng, he had seen what happened during Friday evening rush hour at the central bus depot.
A reckless delivery van would blow a tire in the middle of a three-lane intersection. In seconds, twenty impatient drivers would try to make illegal U-turns at once, clipping mirrors, jamming bumpers, and honking their horns until nobody could move an inch.
Every driver was terrified of being stuck in the rain. Every driver wanted to push their way through first, without caring if they blocked the road for everyone else behind them.
Right now, Harkon’s imperial fleet looked just like that crowded intersection.
“Emergency warp!” Captain Vane of Destroyer Forty-Four bellowed into his command horn. “Plot a blind jump! I don’t care if we scrape a comet! Just get us out of here!”
“Navigation computer is locked!” his navigator screamed in despair. “The gravity wake of the split dreadnought is bending our warp-field coils! We can’t jump!”
