“That ought to work.” Krennel nodded slowly, then gave Isard a wry grin. “You are very good at the political manipulation of people—almost as good as I am at killing them. If you confine yourself to what you are good at, I will as well, and our partnership will have a long future.”
“I will be happy to limit what I do, Prince-Admiral, if you will agree to a request.”
“And that is?”
“If Rogue Squadron survives its next encounter with you,” she smiled frostily, “you will leave their destruction entirely in my hands.”
Krennel smiled carefully back. “And if they do not?”
“Why then, Prince-Admiral, I will just find you bigger and better targets.” Isard bowed her head in his direction. “If you do manage to kill them, clearly nothing else will be able to stop you.”
Chapter Nine
Wedge Antilles started to seat himself halfway down the left side of the lozenge-shaped briefing table when a red-fleshed Mon Calamari directed him to a chair several places closer to the head of the table. “This will be fine, Captain Jhemiti. I’ll sit here.”
The Mon Cal kept his voice low. “Ah, General, these seats are for junior officers. Staff officers sit over there.”
Wedge hesitated for a second, feeling his cheeks burn with a blush. “Thank you for correcting me.”
“Not correcting, General, informing.”
Wedge suppressed a shiver as he moved to the chair Captain Jhemiti had pointed to. The Mon Cal nodded as Wedge slid it out from the table. Wedge seated himself and scooted the chair forward, then stared down at the keypad and monitor, water bottle and glass, comlink holder and personal datapad recharge jack built into his place at the table. He glanced down at the place where he’d meant to sit and saw none of that stuff.
Hmmmm, rank isn’t all bad. He smiled, then killed the smile as the other senior officers began to filter into the room. General Horton Salm took a seat across from Wedge. The balding, mustached pilot gave him a quick nod, then turned to speak with the tall, blue-skinned Duros Admiral coming to the table beside him. Wedge himself offered a hand to the redheaded woman seating herself on his left.
“I’m Wedge Antilles.”
“I’ve heard of you, General Antilles, but what Corellian hasn’t.” She smiled easily at him. “I’m Admiral Areta Bell, also of Corellia.”
Wedge smiled. “We actually met on Hoth, didn’t we? You were the navigator on the transport Tarrin flew, the one that Luke and I took out through the Imp fleet.”
“That’s right, the Dutyfree.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
“How could I forget. You plotted a great course that got us through in a spot the Imps thought no one could go.” He swiveled his chair toward her. “What do they have you flying now?”
“I command the Swift Liberty. It’s an old Victory Deuce, but it’s functional. We’re often paired on ops with Admiral Kir Vantai’s Moonshadow.”
Wedge glanced at the Duros Admiral for a moment, then back to Areta. “That’s an Impstar Deuce, right?”
The answer came from behind him as a hand fell on his shoulder. “Yes, an Impstar Deuce, the same as my Freedom.”
Wedge spun around and offered his hand to a tall, slender, black-haired man whose goatee had been grown into a full beard and was now shot with white in stripes leading down from the corners of his mouth. “Commander Sair Yonka, good to see you again.”
“And good to see you as well. When last we met, I think my ship was still being refitted at Sluis Van.”
“Right, but Thrawn’s mole-miners didn’t get to it, so you actually managed to do some fighting against Thrawn. You were at Bilbringi, as I recall.”
“We were.” Yonka’s blue eyes focused a bit distantly for a moment. “The Freedom didn’t get hit, but I lost a freighter that served as a supply ship for me. Had Thrawn not died, I suspect we all would have been hit much harder.”
Admiral Ackbar passed behind Salm and Vantai to take his place at the head of the table. “The fact is, Commander Yonka, Thrawn did die. This puts us in a very interesting Position. Please, be seated, all of you, and I will begin the briefing.”
While Ackbar waited for everyone to be seated, Captain Jhemiti closed the doors to the briefing room, activated the antisensor fields, then dimmed the lights. The Mon Calamari Admiral hit a couple of buttons on the keypad at the head of the table and Krennel’s image burned to life above the holoprojector plate set in the middle of the briefing table.
“As you have all been informed, Prince-Admiral Delak Krennel will be the target of a series of operations. The method by which we go after him is going to have to be very skillful. It is not common knowledge, but the war against Thrawn taxed our military resources rather heavily. We are still more than capable of maintaining a defensive posture that would make any attack against us punishing, but our ability to launch offensive operations is limited. General Garm Bel Iblis’s return to the New Republic has supplemented our forces and has many of our enemies guessing what we will be doing next. It is our hope that while his presence keeps our enemies guessing, this operation against Krennel will convince them that they do not want to become our next target.”
Ackbar opened his hands. “Krennel is not an idiot, but he is in a difficult position. He has roughly a dozen capital ships: a mix of Imperial Star Destroyers and Victory-class Destroyers. He has a dozen worlds to protect. With the Freedom, Swift Liberty, and Moonshadow, we have a task-force that can destroy any one of his ships in a running battle, and can fight any patrol taskforce he’s likely to put together. If he concentrates his ships enough to hammer us, we attack the worlds he leaves open.”
The Duros Admiral raised a finger. “The force we have is significant, but I wonder if the Lusankya will be refit in time to use it against Krennel?”
Wedge’s jaw dropped open. “You’ve rebuilt the Lusankya?”
Ackbar nodded. “We have, and it’s gone to Bilbringi for final refits. It won’t be ready for the start of this operation, but if Krennel does not fall early, we could employ it against him.”
Wedge closed his mouth and shook his head. He well remembered the toll taken when Rogue Squadron assembled a fleet of ships to destroy the Lusankya. Because it was a Super Star Destroyer it took a lot of killing and yet an ample amount of ship had been left over. Enough to salvage. This time it can be put to good use.
Admiral Ackbar hit more keys and a spherical representation of Krennel’s realm replaced his image. A dozen worlds were linked by glowing gold lines that marked transit routes. Navigational hazards like stars, black holes, and planets tended to make certain pathways much easier to fly and Ciutric, Krennel’s capital world, served as a hub for trade routes with all the other worlds he claimed as his own.
“Ciutric is Krennel’s capital and, for that reason, is well defended. It’s the most industrialized of his worlds and has a shipyard capable of keeping his fleet in repair. It cannot build new Star Destroyers, though an expansion project now under way might give it that capability in a year or so.”
Another world on the display grew up to displace the image of the realm. “This is Liinade Three. Its development was begun in the last days of the Old Republic and continued during the Empire. Much of it is given over to agricultural combines and light industry producing consumer products like comlinks and caf synthesizers. There is nothing about it that is vital, but taking it away from Krennel would result in noticeable, though minor, shortages of goods in the rest of his realm.”
Salm nodded. “It would get his people thinking that the stability he’s offering is not likely to last very long.”
Admiral Bell leaned forward in her chair. “Are you saying that higher prices on comlinks will provoke a revolt?”
Salm shook his head. “Not exactly. You’ve seen reports coming out of Ciutric. Krennel is offering his realm as a safe, peaceful, and stable place where anyone is welcome to make a home and prosper. Taking Liinade Three will make the Hegem
ony a little less prosperous and will take away one of his more attractive worlds.”
Wedge reached out and tapped the golden trio of trade routes connected to Liinade’s blue-green ball. The name of each of the worlds to which the routes were connected flashed up in a little box. “Sure, Ciutric might seem like a nice place to go, but Vrosynri Eight or Corvis Minor? Before reading the briefing files on Krennel’s realm, I never even heard of them, and what I’ve read doesn’t make them seem like the sorts of places I’d want to retire to.”
“I agree, General Antilles, but once we’ve cut those worlds off from the main part of the Hegemony, they will be vulnerable. The fear of our coming and taking them might provoke revolts that preclude the need for invasion.”
Ackbar held his hands up. “Your points are well taken, everyone. The shortages will be difficult for Krennel to conceal if he is determined to use mass media to make his people believe Liinade Three has not fallen. Washing away one of his worlds will provide the biggest shock for his people, while shortages will become a constant reminder of it.”
Salm brushed a hand over his mustache. “And while Wedge is a bit disdainful of Corvis Minor and Vrosynri Eight, those two worlds have tight trading ties to Liinade Three. By taking it, we make the two of them more likely to fall.”
The Duros Admiral nodded slowly. “Neither of those worlds is very stable and could be taken with a small force, if Krennel decides not to defend them.”
Wedge sat back in his chair. “How much do we know about Krennel’s intelligence operations in the New Republic? I may be overly concerned because of breaches concerning Rogue Squadron…”
Salm nodded. “If it is true that Ysanne Isard still lives, she could be activating hidden intelligence agents. Nothing we do is safe.”
Ackbar pressed his hands to the tabletop and leaned forward. “Concern for security is important. As of yet, we have no evidence linking this supposed sighting of Isard with Krennel, but we do know they had a limited history together concerning Sate Pestage’s murder. We would be foolish to suppose they have no way of communicating with each other, or that they would not be willing to work together for their mutual benefit. Our operation will be planned with the tightest security we can manage, of course, but we have to accept that it might be compromised. We will hit hard and establish acceptable loss parameters to judge our success or lack thereof.”
Ackbar’s words sent a shiver down Wedge’s spine. Intellectually, he understood exactly what the Admiral was saying. In any military operation the strategists had to decide how much expenditure of hardware and supplies and personnel was justified in attaining their goal. With material and munitions, the costing could be done on a credit basis: by comparing the industries on the world to be taken with how much it would cost to get them, they could determine if taking a world was feasible in an economic sense. The New Republic would either gain from the operation, or at the very least deny credits and resources to Krennel, which was also a positive benefit.
When it came to people, though, cost-accounting didn’t work. Acceptable losses were more of a political point. The losses the Rebellion suffered in destroying the first Death Star were hideous, but considered well worth it when compared to what the Death Star would do to other worlds. The Death Star’s threat meant that any level of sacrifice, any body count, was acceptable, and no one, not even Wedge, doubted for a second the wisdom of going after it.
When it came to Liinade III, however, there was no visible threat to the New Republic. In fact, Krennel’s opening of his realm to anyone who wanted haven made him seem almost benign. Humans would wonder why the New Republic was spending lives to take a world that Krennel had all but opened to them. Nonhumans might wonder why the New Republic was willing to be blinded by so clear a deception. If nonhumans took a larger proportion of losses than humans did in the assault and it failed, nonhumans could even suggest that the New Republic was spending nonhuman lives while winking at Krennel and tacitly supporting him.
For Wedge, any losses were unacceptable. He’d certainly ordered men and women, humans and aliens, into situations where their survival was severely in doubt, and he’d gone into those situations himself on countless occasions. He never sent anyone into anything where he knew they would die, but he had often wondered if he would see his people together again at the end of a battle.
Ackbar sat down in his chair. “The New Republic is weary of war, but people, somehow, are never weary of victory. We sustained considerable losses in the Thrawn campaign: ten percent of our forces killed, thirty percent wounded—but those are just averages. On the worlds Thrawn actually hit, the devastation was significant. This operation will need to be clean and crisp. I believe we can sustain a thirty percent casualty rate and still consider the cost justified. I want it to be much lower.”
Wedge nodded and called to mind the pilots in his squadron. A third, gone—one whole flight. Probably two killed, two wounded. Who can I lose? The new people, Slee and Zatoq? Or will it be Hobbie and Janson? Will their number be up?
Ackbar hit another button on his keypad. “Flooding into your datapads is the preliminary operational plan for the assault on Liinade Three. It calls for Swift Liberty and Moonshadow to enter a close orbit, while Freedom remains at the edge of the system. We expect that Krennel will spring any surprises, like bringing other ships in from other systems, with the initial engagement. Which is when Freedom will jump in at a point where we will have tactical advantage.
“Moonshadow will serve as the base for General Salm’s B-wing Assault Group; Swift Liberty will carry Rogue Squadron. Freedom will be home to the assault shuttles we’ll be sending down. Our capital ships will kill or drive off Krennel’s capital ships, then we deploy ground troops to take key factories, energy production centers, mass media delivery centers, and the capital. Once troops are on the ground, we will bring in rising tide reinforcements and supplies. I believe pacification of Liinade Three should take little more than two weeks if Krennel does not launch a counterassault.”
Admiral Bell chewed on a fingernail for a moment, then nodded. “Sending our ships out on different patrols, then having us meet up for the run in at Liinade Three should work to keep our assault secret, but gathering the reinforcements and keeping them hidden is going to be tough. Krennel has to know something is up, and Liinade Three is one of his most vulnerable targets.”
“We plan to preoccupy him.” Ackbar’s lip-fringes twitched as his mouth opened in a smile. “One lesson we learned about Krennel from the last time Rogue Squadron dealt with him was that he believes in his own importance. We plan to have General Garm Bel Iblis conduct a planetary assault exercise on Borleias. That world bears a remarkable resemblance to Ciutric in terms of geography, size, atmosphere, and the like. The reinforcements we’ll devote to you will be staging there for that operation. Bel Iblis will also make a series of speeches to various groups here on Coruscant and elsewhere that will indicate our intention of coming after Krennel, and will suggest that when the head is struck from a rancor, the body dies very quickly. Krennel will interpret all that, we think, as a coming strike on Ciutric, and will defend his capital world appropriately.”
Wedge smiled. “And if Krennel rushes ships from Ciutric to defend Liinade Three, Bel Iblis can always hit Ciutric.”
The Mon Cal Admiral nodded. “When you have to assume your enemy knows your plans, providing him two distasteful alternatives often promotes conservative thinking.”
Even as Ackbar spoke, Wedge knew there was something being left unsaid. It occurred to him that if the New Republic had enough force to be able to hit Liinade III and threaten Ciutric, then it would need to appear to have enough power to hit Ciutric and do exactly what Bel Iblis would be threatening to do. This means Bel Iblis will be working with a fake force at Borleias—skeleton-crewed ships probably operating with droids to simulate a full staff. We’ll be on our own and in trouble if Krennel has gotten any smarter over the years.
Ackbar opened his hands.
“So, if you will all please call up the first file, we’ll begin going through the plan step by step and see what holes we need to plug so it does not sink without a trace.”
Chapter Ten
Iella Wessiri sat back in her chair and closed her eyes in spite of the sandpaper feeling of lids sliding down over eyeballs. She rolled her shoulders and let her head droop back a bit. She slowly worked her head to the right and left, loosening the muscles of her neck, then took in a deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled.
With the next deep breath she caught the scent of hot and strong caf. Her eyes snapped open and she spun her chair toward the doorway. “Wedge?”
Mirax smiled sheepishly and extended a steaming mug toward her. “Sorry to disappoint you, Iella, but I figured you could use this when you called and canceled dinner this evening.”
“Thanks, I can use it.” She accepted the mug from Mirax and inhaled the steam. “Where’d you get this caf? I haven’t smelled anything this strong since… since I left Corellia.”
Mirax stepped in from the doorway and Whistler warbled triumphantly as he rolled into Iella’s office. His head turned in a circle, and he stopped and extended toward her a small bag clutched in his pincer. A tone ran from low to high, and Iella accepted the bag with a gracious bow of her head.
Mirax smiled. “Whistler seems to recall the settings you CorSec folks used on your caf distiller back on Corellia. I don’t allow him to make it that strong at home, but I gather he still brews it that way at the squadron. I found a caf shop that let him play with the controls in return for some exotic blends I managed to get my hands on. The result is in your mug.”
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