Star Wars - X-Wing 8 - Isard's Revenge

by Isard's Revenge (by Michael A Stackpole)

  The hull whirled through the air, the nose almost kissing the water after the first revolution. It came up again, sparing the pilot's life, and then the shuttle hit on the right rear quarter. The section of the boxy hull crumpled, splashing out great torrents of the river water it displaced. The ship bounced up, and then landed hard on the aft. The impact jolted the drive units, tearing them free of their mountings and slamming them forward into the passenger compartment.

  The shuttle wavered there for a second, and then the last bit of its mome'ntum pitched it over onto its port side. Water splashed up on both sides, and then the craft settled back, resting on its blackened dorsal stabilizer. Water washed up around the ship's hull and steam rose from the drive units.

  After ten seconds, though, aside from the splashing of debris falling from the bridge, the lazy Daplona River had absorbed the violence of the shuttle's crash and wended on its way.

  Wedge glanced at his secondary screen and the answer to his computer inquiry. He punched up Isard's comm frequency again. "I know you won't reply since you're busy playing dead. Just to let you know, there's one more way I know you're a clone. Isard tried the same trick to escape us on Thyferra. Won't work this time. It's over."

  He ruddered his Defender around on a course that directed it toward the Daplona base training center. When he'd asked the others in One Flight for a full scan of the shuttle, it had included data on the comm frequencies being used, including their strength and the direction from which they were coming. By having his computer compare the vectors, he triangulated Isard's location and the place from which she was directing the shuttle.

  "Oh, one more thing," Wedge added. "Tell Colonel Lorrir he sideslips too much. That's why I got him. And you."

  Switching over to concussion missiles, Wedge targeted the building and tightened his finger on the trigger. A pair of concussion missiles jetted out on azure fire and another pair quickly followed it. All four hit it in sequence, blowing into the squat building's lower two floors. Brilliant explosions ripped through the building, blasting out transparisteel windows and cutting through support structures. The comm dish on the roof tipped and broke off as the upper two floors twisted, and then descended into the dust cloud below them. Smoke, both black and white, rolled through the surrounding area like surf breaking. In its wake lay a mountain of rubble leaking thin vapors.

  Wedge got nothing but static on Isard's comm frequency.

  With a smile blossoming on his face, Wedge brought his Defender around and headed it toward the prison. Isard had betrayed them, and the individual that was a slice of her tried to deny them the prize for which they had worked so hard. Both Isards had been thwarted and, no matter what else happened, that made it a very good day.

  Corran and Jan Dodonna were the last two people to come down the stairs. Because of the hole at the top of the stairs, Corran had used the lightsaber to widen the door and let folks mount the stairs from the side instead of the landing. Nrin and Ooryl led the way down and the former prisoners filed out without incident.

  Corran felt an odd chill as they made their way to the lower floors. Stormtrooper and guard corpses clogged the stairwell save for the narrow path that wormed its way between their bodies. It struck Corran as very odd that very few of the bodies showed signs of having been killed with blaster bolts. Blood leaked from most of them, with knife wounds in the chest, or armpits, or any other location where a blade could easily sever a major blood vessel. Broken arms and legs appeared on some of the corpses, along with spinal dislocations. A couple of guards had broken necks, with the damage so severe that it appeared someone had tried to twist their heads right off.

  They came out into the sunlight and Kapp snapped to

  attention. He tossed a salute to Jan Dodonna, which Dodonna returned with a crisp grace. The Devaronian extended his hand to the older man. "It is a pleasure to meet you, General."

  "My thanks to you and your men." Dodonna smiled broadly and handed the borrowed blaster to Corran. "I never doubted you'd make good on your promise, Corran. You even got around to it faster than I expected."

  "Not as fast as I wanted to, but Warlord Zsinj and Grand Admiral Thrawn took up a fair amount of our time." Corran turned to Kapp, shifting his recovered helmet beneath his left arm so he could shake hands with Team One's leader. As he did so he glanced from the line of freed men making their way to the two freighters parked beyond the twisted prison doors to Kapp. "Speaking of your men, where are they?"

  Kapp smiled and opened his arms. "They're all here."

  Corran looked around and only saw a half-dozen bipeds he didn't instantly recognize. The small, gray-skinned bipeds' exposed legs and arms rippled with muscles and their large dark eyes watched each passing individual with the closeness of a predator seeking prey. They smiled at men who nodded thanks to them, exposing mouths full of sharp teeth, gathering their homespun robes at the waist, they wore a belt that bore a bolstered blaster on one hip, a sheathed knife at the other, and a couple smaller throwing blades sheathed at the small of their backs.

  Corran frowned. "Those are all the men you brought?"

  Kapp laughed aloud. "They're Noghri, Corran, a half dozen is all I needed."

  "Those are Noghri? I'm glad they're on our side." Corran glanced more closely at one and got a broad, tooth-studded smile in return. "They are on our side, right?"

  "They worked for the Empire because Vader had tricked them. Princess Leia managed to turn them to our side. They're a peaceful people, but they're willing to act for us to atone for some of the things the Empire had them do."

  Kapp offered Dodonna his arm and the older man took it to steady himself. "General, if you'll come with me, we'll get you off this rock."

  Corran pointed to the sky. "What happened up there?"

  "Bel Iblis' battle group blasted Reckoning and Emperor's Wisdom. Reckoning's bridge is gone, and Krennel along with it. The crews of Binder and Decisive found themselves outgunned and decided accepting a New Republic amnesty was preferable to being reduced to scrap." Kapp shrugged easily. "I think the pols intend for the Hegemony to enter the New Republic as a unit, and these guys would get stationed here to maintain order. They still protect their homes and we don't have to kill them."

  "Win, win." Corran nodded, and then waved Kapp on toward the freighters. "I'll catch up with you--I need to get air between me and dirt."

  Corran jogged over to where he'd landed his Defender and smiled as Wedge's ship set down easily. He waited for Wedge to exit the ball cockpit and offered him his hand. "Thanks for the warning, Wedge. Air got a tad warm there, but no serious damage done."

  "Good." Wedge surveyed the prison and the line of men heading toward the freighters. "Got them all?"

  "As nearly as we can tell, yes. Did you get Isard's clone?"

  Wedge smiled. "She had Colonel Lorrir flying a shuttle by remote-I recognized his love of sideslips. Myn and Gavin brought the shuttle down, I triangulated back to the point of origin of the control and comm broadcasts and laced it with two concussion missiles. Brought the whole training center down."

  Corran arched an eyebrow at him. "Great, now I'll never get my deposit back for locker rental in the recreation area."

  "Don't worry about it, Corran. If the New Republic ever comes through with our pay, I'll cover it."

  "Works for me." The younger man looked around, and then shifted his shoulders uneasily. "Kapp says our fleet took Krennel down and, without their leader, the others surrendered. Everything turned out very nicely."

  "It did, so why the shiver there?"

  "We did better than expected, muddling through without Isard's help." Corran's green eyes narrowed. "So, where is she, and just how good a day is she having?"

  37

  The daggerish hull of the Lusankya hung in the middle of the Bilbringi shipyard like a vibroblade waiting to be plucked up and used to kill an enemy. The eight kilometers of its length had been restored fully, with running lights burning around its edges, the prow r
eturned to needle-sharpness, the armor restored, and the ship painted an even gray tone. Two bloody Rebel crests graced the ship toward the aft, both on top and bottom-marred it really-and destroyed any chance of the gray hull vanishing against the backdrop of space.

  But then, she thought, hiding a Super Star Destroyer has always been impossible. Isard laughed lightly. The New Republic had tried to hide Lusankya from her. They had circulated rumors that it had been taken apart for scrap or cannibalized to repair countless smaller ships, but she had known from the start that all such stories were deceptions. The Lusankya was a prize they had sought to deny her. Such a ship could lay waste to fleets and project political power to the furthest reaches of the galaxy.

  She pressed her right hand against the transparisteel viewport on the incoming freighter Swift. Behind her she heard the communications officer play out the watch code that allowed their freighter to approach the larger ship. Her spies in the New Republic had managed to produce it, as well as a copy of the program used to determine watch codes. Nothing the New Republic could do would deny her a return to her ship.

  "This is Bilbringi Control. Swift, you are approved for docking on the command tower. Proceed on vector three-three-two mark three-four-five, steady as she goes."

  "Swift acknowledges three-three-two mark three-four-five, Control. Swift out."

  Isard stared at the reflection of the bridge behind her. "Sensors, data please."

  "Only thirty percent of the ship has gravity and atmosphere, all along the central spine and up into the command tower. Only essential systems are engaged, with no power to weapons. Engines are in station-keeping mode only." The sensor officer's reflection ducked its head toward the screen he was studying. "I have nearly five hundred mixed lifeform readings on board, human and other. They are largely confined near the bow, working on the restoration of areas that were severely damaged at Thyferra."

  "Very good. Captain, take us in."

  Isard watched, her eyes widening hungrily as the Lusankya loomed larger. She had not lied when she told Corran Horn that his escape from Lusankya had soiled the ship, disgraced it and tainted it. She really didn't want anything more to do with it and had been pleased when the New Republic had pounded it mercilessly. In fact, her command to Captain Drysso, telling him to flee before the New Republic killed him and Lusankya, had been calculated to have just the opposite effect. As she intended, Drysso had remained at Thyferra and had been killed in the battle.

  Now, with years of hindsight, Isard realized how Horn's escape and her forced evacuation of Imperial Center had affected her. It had worn her down. She had not been thinking clearly during her time as ruler of Thyferra. She made mistakes that now she could see were clearly preventable. The loss of Imperial Center through her narrow escape from Thyferra had been a crucible in which her desperation and insanity had been burned from her. During the time of Thrawn's campaign she had pulled herself together, tapped into still existing sources of information, and had taken over one of the many hidden Imperial installations, from which she plotted her renewed rise to power.

  Crucial to that rise had been the repossession of Lusankya. At Thyferra Lusankya had likewise been in a crucible. Its defects, the taint Horn had left on it, had been burned out of it. The New Republic had taken it away from Thyferra; first to a hidden Rebel installation where the basic refits had been done, and then to Bilbringi where the final work could be completed. The New Republic had fully restored Lusankya.

  And now I shall use Lusankya to restore me to power. With the Super Star Destroyer under her command, bringing the various warlords to heel would be simple. As powerful as they were, she would threaten them with destruction unless they allied themselves with her. Teradoc and Harssk might pose a problem at first, but people like Tavira, with her Invidious, would flock to Isard's banner. With a new Imperial force she would be able to negotiate with whoever succeeded Thrawn and even unite the disparate worlds that still claimed allegiance to the Empire. In a very short time she would forge a new Empire and press in on the New Republic, shattering them. I will have a realm which will make the Emperor proud.

  The Swift slowed as the command tower loomed up over it. The freighter rotated ninety degrees to orient its docking collar with the docking point at the base of the tower. Below her, booted feet clanked along grating as Major Telik's commandos positioned themselves to move forward and take possession of the ship. They would make immediately for the bridge along with a hand-picked crew of Naval officers who had been training for months on how to run a Super Star Destroyer.

  Her ears popped as a small pressure wave pulsed through Swift. Isard turned from the viewport and descended a ladder to the lower deck. Commandos in dark gray armor poured through the docking collar and into Lu-sankya. The black-clad sailors jogged after them and soon were lost in the bowels of the larger ship.

  Isard started toward the docking collar, but the Swift's Captain stopped her. "Colonel Vessery's squadrons have made the jump in-system and have taken up patrolling in case garrison troops from Bilbringi come up. I've told him you'll issue a recafl for his fighters to dock with Lusankya or that Helm will send him coordinates for a jump when we leave the system."

  "Very good." Isard eyed the man up and down. "Perhaps it is time for you to move up and command something larger than this freighter."

  The man smiled. "It would be my pleasure."

  "Report to the bridge and let me know when you get there."

  The Captain straightened up to his full height. "It would be my honor to escort you to the bridge, Madam Director."

  "I'm certain, but I am headed elsewhere."

  "We only have fifty commandos on the ship. Not all areas are secure."

  Isard drew back her left sleeve to reveal a holdout blaster concealed there. "I am not without resources to defend myself, Captain Wintle. Contact me when you reach the bridge."

  "As you command." Wintle took off running into Lusankya, as eager as a little boy being given his first airspeeder.

  Isard allowed herself to smile at that, less taking joy in his display of enthusiasm than in her realization that allowing someone to attain a dream, or think a dream is within grasping distance, creates a vulnerable period during which striking at and destroying them is easy. In their joy they let their guard down, and that is when they die.

  The solitary echo of her footfalls as she entered Lusankya reminded her of the first time she set foot on the ship. The Emperor had brought her to one of his hidden sanctums, one of the various satellite palace complexes he maintained on Imperial Center. He let her enter Lusankya all alone, being the first person to touch it, the first person to see it. If it was true that the very act of observing and experiencing something changed the thing being observed, and then Isard had been the agent of change in Lusankya, and it had changed her as well. It became her source of power, hidden, lurking, much as she hid and lurked and worked to preserve the Emperor's power.

  She entered a turbolift and ascended to a midway point in the command tower. She exited the lift and paced down a half-lit hallway. A couple of twists and turns later she stood before a pair of red doors. She pressed her hand to the center of them and they opened at her touch. She smiled. The ship's ability to recognize her had been hard-coded into the basic systems and clearly the New Republic had not found all of them.

  She entered a room that was small by planetary standards, but huge when compared to the cabins on a ship even a ship the size of a small city. The Emperor had ordered it finished in fine exotic woods-something he knew would please her-and the New Republic had not stripped away his handiwork. The dimmed lights glowed golden off the strips of paneling, imparting a warmth to the room that made her realize that for the longest time she had felt terribly cold and disconnected from the world.

  Stepping deeper into the room, she did notice one change. There, on the back wall, between the hatchways to the rest of her suite and a small storage closet, the woodworkers had once used ebony to create the Imperi
al crest. The whole of that inlay had been pulled out and, in its place; natural reddish woods had been employed to display the Rebel crest.

  She hated the Rebel crest's soft curves and languid angles. To her it had no strength, no ability to stir the spirit. The Imperial crest, all hard and angular, sharp and dark, radiated strength and commanded fealty. The Rebels, they never could appreciate that fact. I will give them another chance to learn that lesson.

  Isard strode to the high-backed chair set in the middle of the forward part of the room. She sank into the thick nerf-hide cushions, letting the raw, wild scent of them take her back to more pleasant times. She undipped her comlink from her belt and snapped it into the circular jack on one of the blocky chair's arms. "Captain Wintle, report, if you please."

  A holoprojector mounted in the floor conveyed a three-quarters tall image of a winded Wintle to her, placing it at her feet. "Forgive me, Madam Director, but I only just got here. The atmosphere here is a bit lighter than expected-- the equivalent of a mountaintop. We are working with environmental controls to change that now. The atmosphere would be appropriate for Verpine technicians, and there is some indication the creatures have been working here."