Star Wars - X-Wing - Krytos Trap

by Michael A. Stackpole

  a day's warning. By the time she considers what will happen,

  it will all be done.

  And Kirtan Loor would be one giant step closer to being

  free.

  29

  Four minutes to reversion to realspace. Nawara Ven began a

  quick systems check on his X-wing. Lasers were powered up

  and linked for offside firing in pairs. He had six proton tor-

  pedoes, and had configured that weapon system to shoot

  them one at a time. Fuel was good; acceleration compensator

  was set .05 off full, giving him a feel for his position in space,

  and his life-support systems checked out--including the

  heated stockings into which he fit his lekku to protect them if

  he got blasted out of his cockpit.

  He shivered. He'd been shot out of an X-wing during the

  first battle of Borleias. The concussion of ejecting had

  stunned him. He'd floated in space, helpless, in the midst of a

  roiling dogfight. Cold nibbled away at his fingers, toes, and

  lek-tips, while a little chronographic indicator flashing on the

  inside of his helmet's evac-visor counted down the minutes

  until his air supply quit. Watching the seconds slip away,

  he'd felt time was moving a lot faster than it should have.

  ! knew I was going to die. He shook his head. Then

  Captain Celchu showed up and saved me. He didn't have to

  do that. In fact, he was insane to do that. After he pulled me

  to safety, there was no way I could ever think he was an

  Imperial agent.

  A beep from his R5 unit marked 30 seconds to rever-

  sion. "Thanks. Even up my shields forward and back. I don't

  expect trouble, but I want to be ready."

  The droid complied with the request and Nawara pre-

  pared himself for the rendezvous with the bacta convoy.

  Rogue Squadron's Two flight, led by Lieutenant Pash

  Cracken and including Gavin and Shiel as well as Nawara,

  was supposed to break off and head sunward to cover the

  tail end of the convoy. The last ship was to be the Pulsar

  Skate, so they'd form up on it. One flight, with Wedge in the

  lead, would take the head of the convoy, and Three flight,

  which was still one pilot short, was to orient itself toward

  any trouble.

  Not that there should be any. The shards of Alderaan

  formed an asteroid field commonly known as the Graveyard.

  The majority of traffic into the sector came from Alderaanian

  expatriots returning to see the sun beneath which they were

  born one more time and to leave grave-gifts among the aster-

  oids. Others came to plunder those grave-gifts, and some

  even claimed to have seen a massive armory ship named An-

  other Chance among the planet's ruins--though Nawara

  thought that ship as much a legend as the fabled Katana fleet.

  I wanted to ask Tycho if he wanted me to leave anything

  for him, but I wasn't allowed any contact with him after I

  was briefed. Nawara had recorded a message and saved it in

  the computer for Tycho in case he didn't make it back, but

  the mission was supposed to be little more than ceremonial.

  Aside from their timetable slipping by three quarters of an

  hour because of a fuel pump failure that delayed their take-

  off, the mission had gone exactly as advertised. But it's the

  ones that are supposed to be easy that hurt the most.

  The white tunnel through which his ship had been hur-

  tling exploded into a million separate pinpricks of fire. Some

  of those pinpricks resolved themselves into distant stars,

  while others refused to shrink. Green darts stabbed into

  some of the brighter points in the system, then those points

  exploded. "Sithspawn!"

  "S-foils into attack position." Wedge's voice came

  through the helmet comm unit strong and cool. "Twelve, get

  me a full scan of the sector. One and Two flights, on me."

  Nawara reached up with his right hand and flicked the

  switch that split his stabilizer foils into the cross pattern that

  gave the fighter its name. Nudging his stick to port, he

  brought his fighter in on Pash's starboard flank with a

  fighter-length separating them. "I've got you, Five."

  "Thanks, Six."

  Aril Nunb broke into the comm channel with her report.

  "Caught a flash of something big heading out--a Super Star

  Destroyer. It's gone, but in system we have two dozen eye-

  balls, two lambs, and a Strike Cruiser designated Terma-

  gant."

  "What about the freighters?"

  "We just saw the last one explode."

  Nawara's stomach folded in on itself. "Gone? They're

  all gone?"

  "An Imperial SSD wouldn't leave much behind." Fear

  and revulsion filled Rhysati's voice, and Nawara could easily

  visualize the hard look in her hazel eyes. "We're going in,

  right, Rogue Leader?"

  "Twelve, any sign of the Skate?"

  "No, Commander."

  "Nothing at all? No beacon?"

  "There's no beacon from half the hulks I have on my

  scan." Aril's voice softened a bit. "A Super Star Destroyer

  has enough power to completely vape any of the ships in the

  convoy."

  "Right, right." Wedge's voice trailed off and no one

  spoke to fill the void. "Blast it! All right, listen up. We're

  going in, and we're going in hot. The Strike Cruiser is our

  primary target. Proton torps, dual-fire. I want it down and

  out immediately."

  Erisi's voice crackled through the comm unit. "That

  means the T1Es will have no way to get out of here."

  The edge in Wedge's voice came through unadulterated.

  "Is that a problem?"

  "Not for me, Lead."

  Nawara keyed his comm unit. "What about the lambs?"

  The two Lambda-class shuttles carried weapons and could

  be tougher than TIEs to handle because they also sported

  shields.

  "We give them one chance to run. After that, they can go

  away, too."

  Aril again spoke. "I'm downloading tac-data to every-

  one. Termagant isn't straight Imp, it's allied with Zsinj."

  "Was allied with Zsinj." Wedge's ship began to lengthen

  its lead over the others. "Come on, Rogues. Warlord Zsinj

  apparently wanted the Alliance's attention. Here's where we

  make him pay for that mistake."

  Following Wedge, the squadron sped in toward Zsinj's

  forces and the convoy debris. The convoy had been am-

  bushed out beyond the Graveyard and a bit below the sys-

  tem's orbital plane. Rogue Squadron had come in on the

  other side of the orbital plane. Because of this, and because

  of the way Zsinj's forces chose to orient themselves respec-

  tive to the system, by flying down to them, Rogue Squadron

  was, from their perspective flying in up at their bellies.

  Nawara watched his tactical screen. Because the TIEs

  were making strafing runs on what were left of the freighters,

  they had no unit cohesion. With the enormous amount of

  debris in and around where they were flying, Nawara would

  have been surprised if they had any clue about Rogue Squad-

  ron's approach. So the ambusbers get ambushed.
How fit-

  ting.

  With the flick of his thumb he brought his weapons-

  control over to proton torpedoes. Another touch of a button

  and he linked both launching tubes. Range to the Termagant

  stood at 4.5 kilometers. The X-wings closed fast as Wedge

  led them down and around the freighter debris field, then

  over and in at the Strike Cruiser. Nawara's head's-up display

  went from green to yellow as the cruiser filled his sights, then

  blazed red as his RS's keening wail announced he had a

  target lock.

  "Rogues, launch now!"

  On Wedge's command the squadron fired their proton

  torpedoes in near-perfect unison. Twenty-two torpedoes

  streaked in at the lozenge-shaped Strike Cruiser, coming up

  toward the ventral hull. The first couple detonated brilliantly

  white against the ship's shields, but the rest pushed on

  through. Several exploded against the hull, shredding and

  blackening armor plating, while still more burst inside the

  ship. Argent fire gushed from the ragged hole in the ship's

  hull, then geysered out of several smaller openings on the

  upper part of the ship.

  The Strike Cruisers, as a class of ship, had been highly

  lauded because of their unique construction. Built around a

  central skeleton that bound the bridge to the engines, their

  other components were completely modular. A cruiser con-

  figured to carry troops could, after a short stay in some

  spaceyard, emerge a TIE carrier like Termagant. Strike Cruis-

  ers allowed the Empire to change the makeup of the Imperial

  fleet without building entirely new ships.

  That strength is Termagant's weakness. As the torpedoes

  exploded inside the ship, the ship itself began to break apart.

  The prow drifted upward as if the ship had run into an

  invisible wall. Armored hull plates shattered where they had

  covered the seam between the bow and the starboard TIE

  hangar. The forward part of the hangar started twisting as it

  ripped free of the skeleton. The cruiser began to roll, then the

  whole front half of the ship spun off as the ship's waist

  evaporated in the inferno the torpedoes caused.

  "The eyes of the Warlord are upon us," Gavin quipped.

  "TIEs inbound."

  Nawara flipped back to his lasers and broke to port with

  Pash. Coming up over the top, they climbed toward the in-

  coming eyeballs. He punched all power to his forward shield

  and prepared for a head-to-head pass. He dropped his

  crosshairs on the growing speck that was an approaching

  TIE starfighter. He watched the range close, then popped a

  quick shot off. A pair of laser-bolts glanced off the eyebali's

  port panel, imparting a spin to the ship. Nawara started to

  dive after it, but with his speed, he overshot it. "I got the other half of it, Six."

  "Thanks, Gavin." Nawara evened out his shields and

  pulled back up. Inverting his ship, he completed a big loop

  and followed the rest of squadron back into the fray. In the

  boiling cloud of fighters, friend and foe flashed past so

  quickly that it was impossible to account for everyone's posi-

  tion. Nawara knew a number of the other pilots in the

  squadron had a "situational awareness" that was superior to

  his own, but he figured this battle had to be taxing even

  them.

  And if you take long enough to line up a shot . . . The

  hiss of lasers gnawing away at his aft shield completed his

  thought and sent a jolt through him. "I have one on my tail.

  I'm going to try to shake him."

  Nawara hit the right rudder pedal, swinging the

  X-wing's aft to port. He kicked the ship up onto the star-

  board S-foil, then pulled the stick back and curled down into

  a corkscrew dive. He throttled back a bit, hoping his pursuer

  would overshoot him, but the aft scan showed the pilot pull-

  ing a twisting roll and dive that covered more distance, keep-

  ing him in behind Nawara.

  The Twi'lek punched the t hrottle forward and enlarged

  the gap between them, then broke hard to port and started to

  climb again. Maybe that will get rid of him.

  Lasers hissing on his aft shields again told him the tactic

  hadn't worked. Nawara rocked the X-wing back and forth

  and bounced it up and down, making it a tough target to hit,

  but the TIE pilot stayed with him.

  ! have to do something. Sweat formed on his upper lip

  and leaked in at the corners of his mouth, coating his tongue

  with the taste of copper. His lekku twitched in their fabric

  prisons. Maybe if I run into the Graveyard . . .

  He started to pull up and head for the asteroids, when

  something behind him exploded. He glanced at his aft moni-

  tor and saw no TIE there. "Thanks."

  "My pleasure, Six." Erisi seemed pleased with herself.

  "My wing would be distraught if you were hurt."

  "I owe you, Four, for the both of us."

  "Acknowledged, Six."

  Aril Nunb's voice broke in on the comm channel.

  "Lambs are running."

  "Thanks, Twelve, let them go." Wedge's voice lacked

  none of its earlier vehemence. "We've got plenty to do here."

  Nawara brought his X-wing up and evened out the

  shields. Trailing Erisi back in toward the fight, he saw two or

  three TIEs explode. Another came shooting out of the dog-

  fight, then barrel-rolled in on Erisi for a broadside shot at

  her.

  "Four, break up!" Nawara snapped his fighter up on the

  port S-foil, then climbed. He swooped in on the eyeball,

  stayed with it as the pilot juked down, then hit his trigger.

  The first pair of laser-bolts only melted holes in the starboard

  solar panel, but the second hit the ball cockpit dead on. The

  TIE began to spin out of control, then exploded in a cloud of

  brilliant incandescent gas. Debris sparked off his forward

  shield as he flew past the outer edges of the fireball.

  "Lead, Five here. The TIEs are breaking off. They're

  heading for the Graveyard."

  "I copy, Five. Rogue Squadron, let them go."

  "You can't be serious, Lead."

  "I am, Gavin."

  "But what they did--"

  "Doesn't matter right now. They're dead and they know

  it. I don't want any of us getting dead. Regroup in your

  flights and stand by." A momentary squeal ended Wedge's

  transmission, telling Nawara that the commander was shift-

  ing over to a different comm unit frequency.

  Nawara rolled his fighter and dove down to where Pash

  and the other two members of Two flight were orbiting. Peer-

  ing out through his cockpit canopy, he got the first good look

  at the remains of the convoy. If humans can bring themselves

  to do this to a convoy of ships hauling bacta, I am glad I'm

  not human.

  A few of the freighters were still recognizable as such.

  Hull compartments had been blown open by explosions.

  Bacta that had geysered out through the holes had flash-

  frozen into monuments to the terror the ships' crews must

  have felt. Fires burned deep in the hearts of several ships,
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  consuming the last remnants of atmosphere. Pieces of other

  ships drifted through the area, slamming into one another,

  breaking up yet further to careen into other dead hulks.

  The worst image Nawara saw was of one small ship--

  one barely bigger than the Skate--that appeared, from the

  prow to midships, to be intact. Back of that point the ship

  did not really exist--at least, nothing recognizable as a ship.

  Turbolaser fire had hit so fast that the latter half of the

  ship had been liquified. An amorphous blob of metal fringed

  with condensed metal mist, like the down from a silvery bird,

  trailed in the ship's wake.

  The sheer violence of the attack that had destroyed that

  ship shook Nawara. The transparisteel cockpit panels on the

  ship had blown out. He realized the Super Star Destroyer's

  turbolasers would have superheated the atmosphere in the

  ship. The crew would have been cooked inside and out in the

  blink of an eye. They would have been dead before they

  knew what had happened to them, but their last moments

  must have been full of terror because of the SSD's presence.

  Nawara keyed his comm unit. "Hypothetical question

  you're part of a convoy with minimal arms and you come

  out of hyperspace in the shadow of a Super Star Destroyer

  and a Strike Cruiser that's deployed its TIEs. Do you pro-

  voke an attack?"

  "Ooryl cannot see how anyone would be that suicidal."

  "Right, so you'd surrender and tell the SSD that you're

  hauling bacta, which is currently very valuable." Nawara

  frowned. "It makes no sense for anyone to have killed the

  convoy."

  "That's why to know Warlord Zsinj is to wonder about

  his sanity." Disgust filled Pash's voice. "He's definitely some-

  one who needs a lot of killing."

  "Count me in."

  "Me, too."

  A squeal came through the comm unit, then Wedge

  spoke. "I've just had word with the TIEs. They're giving

  up---they were uneasy with the mission and they don't like

  the fact that we showed up. They're going to recon the han-

  gar sections of Termagant and see if they can reboard."

  "Why, that hulk's not going anywhere? The engines are

  in the other half and it's headed for the Graveyard."

  "I noticed, Four. They're going to check for survivors