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

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Mon Mothma's figure froze and the holocam on the other side of the connection panned up to frame Isard's head and shoulders. "There you have it, Prince-Admiral. Rogue Squadron is no more."

  Krennel nodded slowly. Two days previously Isard had given him word that Rogue Squadron was about to fall into her trap. Information from Corvis Minor had indicated that there was an engagement and no word was received from the Hegemony fighter wing that had been hidden in the Distna area to spring the trap. Observers on the Aspiration had little to report and only after Krennel insisted had they sent a shuttle out to the area of the battle. The shuttle found virtually nothing in the way of debris and the Aspiration did report, well after the fact, that another Imperial Star Destroyer had visited the battleground before they sent their shuttle out. The Captain said he had assumed the Star Destroyer was one of Krennel's on a mission connected with the ambush, so he had done nothing to hail it or interfere with it.

  "So, Isard, you do not find it disturbing that we have heard nothing from the fighters you had stationed at Distna?"

  The slender woman stroked her sharp chin with a hand, and then trailed her fingers down her throat. "A matter of concern, yes. Their silence, and the fact we could find no trace of any ships at the ambush site, means the mystery Destroyer likely scooped up whatever there was left over. What I find intriguing about that is very simple: Aside from the New Republic, the only people running around with Imperial Star Destroyers are other warlords, a pirate or two, and Booster Terrik. Terrik has a son-in-law in the squadron. Since no other warlord or pirate has claimed to have smashed Rogue Squadron, I assume Terrik did the recovery. Anything he learned he would have passed to the New Republic. Since the Rogues faced a foe that outnumbered them six to one, the survival of any of the Rogues would have been broadcast immediately."

  "So you are suggesting that no news from the New Republic indicates that your ambush was wholly successful?"

  "I think that conclusion is warranted."

  "What of the pilots of ours who survived?"

  Isard shrugged. "I would guess there were fewer survivors than either of us would care to imagine. While your Hegemony troops have heart and a desire to protect their homeworlds, their level of training is hardly up to Imperial standards. Those who did survive probably found themselves under the guns of the Errant Venture and chose to surrender. Terrik probably promised them freedom and money in return for their ships and stories."

  "When you find them, have them slain." Krennel rose from the command chair in his ready room on the Reckoning and stared out the viewport at the black expanse studded with a rainbow of stars. "The loss of six squadrons of fighters is annoying, even if they did destroy Rogue Squadron. Replacing them will not be easy."

  "Your fighters, or Rogue Squadron?"

  "My fighters."

  Isard smiled. "Actually, you will find that replacing them might not be so difficult. Thrawn showed that the New Republic was not invulnerable, and you are proving that they are not as mighty as once had been believed. We have already begun to get inquiries-careful, guarded inquiries-from a variety of groups who realize the Empire is waning and cannot bring themselves to support the warlords. Your battle against the New Republic seems to them to be the last chance to preserve life as they knew it."

  KrennePs head came up. "Have you had word from Pellaeon?"

  "None, my lord, but he will come around. Soon. After your victory."

  "Indeed, after my victory." Krennel chuckled. "I expect you to keep digging into the New Republic's affairs and determine if Rogue Squadron is truly gone or not."

  "I shall, Prince-Admiral." Isard nodded slowly. "I suspect, however, what you accomplish now will occupy more of their time and consideration."

  "It shall." Krennel waved a hand dismissively at her. "Krennel out."

  Isard's image faded, but not before a momentary flash of anger arced through her eyes. Krennel knew that dismissing her would anger her, but he wanted her distracted. When she came to him originally, she said her agenda was the destruction of Rogue Squadron. That had been accomplished, which left her needing a new goal. He expected it would be supplanting him. Knowing that, he wanted her to be angry enough to plan a vicious downfall for him--which he would prevent by eliminating her the moment she outlived her usefulness.

  Krennel did have to admit she had been very useful. Isard had an understanding of politics that he did not possess. The idea of negotiating with the homeless pacifists of Alder-aan had been enough to turn his stomach, but the pressure they put on the New Republic when the world he said he had been intending to give turned out to be Liinade III had been terrific. A variety of sources suggested that a second series of attacks had been delayed by the internecine squabbling within the Provisional Council.

  Likewise her handling of the Pulsar Station controversy had been masterful. It sowed distrust between the government and the people. The loss of Rogue Squadron--and Krennel had no doubt that the journalist who asked the question about them was on Isard's payroll--would further undermine the New Republic's war effort. Isard had been very effective in fighting the New Republic on the political front.

  Some may see war as political action carried to the extreme, but I know there is a difference. Krennel turned to watch the Interdictor Cruiser binder drift up alongside his Imperial Star Destroyer Reckoning. Warfare is a different beast, where power is displayed in its raw and naked form and there is no running or hiding from it. In politics one seeks to bend another to his will. In war the object is to shatter another completely, so neither he nor his will offers further resistance.

  "Warfare is what I do best." Krennel pulled a comlink from his pocket. "Communications get me Captain Phulik of the Binder."

  "As ordered, Prince-Admiral."

  Phulik's holograph flashed to life. "At your service, Prince-Admiral."

  Krennel looked down at the image of the portly man. "It is time for you to power up your gravity wells, Captain Phulik. Your gunners will concentrate on vectors five and six. We will cover the rest."

  "Gunnery solutions are already locked in, Prince-Admiral. My people await your command to fire." Phulik looked off cam for a moment. "Gravity wells coming up, now."

  A slight tremor ran through the Reckoning as the Inter-dictor's gravity wells powered up. Their power was sufficient to momentarily override the inertial compensators built into the larger ship. With all four gravity wells online, the Binder now projected a hyperspace mass shadow roughly equivalent to a good-sized planet. Any ships moving through hyperspace in the area would automatically revert to realspace, since the alternative was to smash into whatever was creating the shadow.

  Interdictor cruisers often accompanied larger ships on missions because they prevented enemy ships from escaping into hyperspace. Any course laid through hyperspace had to avoid gravitic anomalies, so transit routes were plotted out with precision and, depending upon where bodies were in their orbits around a star, a system could be wide open, or only have a narrowly defined route through it. The advantages of flying through or near systems came if a ship suffered damage, since out in deep space the chance of being rescued was slender. An Interdictor's presence in a system changed the system profile, requiring new escape routes to be plotted and ships to head far enough away from the Interdictor to escape its gravity well and make it into hyperspace.

  Krennel was not interested in the escape of ships in the system, but with the transit through it. The routes that connected Liinade III with worlds outside the Hegemony were few in number. The system in which he waited sat astride one of the routesand didn't even rate a name: Imperial surveyors had only Sesignated it M2934738. While it did not provide the most direct path from the New Republic to Liinade III, it did allow for a quicker transit than many of the other routes.

  The only problem the New Republic had with taking Liinade III was in supplying it and the troops on it. Even before hostilities had ceased, New Republic supply ships began ferrying in a variety of necessities, from
medicine to munitions, spare parts to food. The New Republic clearly intended to use Liinade III as a staging area for further operations in the Hegemony, so the buildup continued.

  Continued until now. Isard had been correct in noting that a victory against the New Republic would create even more opposition to the war against the Hegemony. A direct assault on Liinade III would prove very costly in men and materials. Cutting the supply line to Liinade III would weaken the garrison and provide him his victory, so, using information from Isard's sources within the New Republic, Krennel laid his ambush.

  The New Republic supply convoy came out of hyperspace in the middle of M2934738. It consisted of a dozen freighters, a Nebulon-B-class Frigate, and two Corellian Corvettes. The two smaller warships drove hard toward the Reckoning, their double turbolaser cannons blazing away, but the Imperial Star Destroyer Mark II's shields and hull j absorbed the damage without significant difficulty. The Nebulon-B Frigate made a run at the Interdictor, with the freighters scattering in its wake.

  Krennel's forward gunners targeted the lead Corvette, a ship called Pride of Selonia. Heavy turbolaser fire crushed the ship's forward shields, and then burned tattered, black furrows along the ship's hull. Debris and bodies vented into space, expelled by flaming gouts of superheated atmosphere. Heavy turbolaser cannons scattered shots over the bridge and back along the ship's spine, destroying its communications array. In one terrible swift salvo, the Pride of Selonia went from being a warship crewed by brave individuals to a floating charnel ship trailing webs of congealed metal.

  The Frigate Intrepid fired its turbolaser batteries and laser cannons at Binder, but the Interdictor's shields deflected their fury. Instead of firing back at the Intrepid, Binder's gunners shot at two freighters, each one making a run toward one of the exit vectors the Interdictor had been told to control. Quad laser cannon fire linked the Interdictor to the fleeing freighters with a stream of red-gold bolts. The laserfire pierced the freighters' shields and burned through them, leaving each ship a burning hulk floating in an escape lane.

  Another salvo melted the front half of the second Corvette, leaving it to tumble out into space. The Reckoning's ion cannons laced fleeing freighters with blue bolts that sank each in a lightning storm. Shields imploded and components exploded, rendering the small supply ships helpless. Escape pods burst forth from their hulls and Krennel chuckled. Either we pick them up or they die out here. There is no escape for them.

  Intrepid again fired on Binder, and with its second salvo managed to punch through a shield and score the Interdictor's hull. Krennel immediately flicked his comlink on. "Gunners, this is Prince-Admiral Krennel. Break Intre-pid's back."

  The Reckoning's turbolaser fire concentrated itself on the Frigate's slender neck, which connected the bridge with the aft drive portion of the ship. Red-gold energy lances stabbed through the shields and drilled deep into the ship's structure. Hull plates bubbled up into vapor and drifted away while energy bolts disintegrated bulkheads and deck. Crewmembers caught at the point of assault exploded into flames and died before they were even aware of their danger.

  All the energy being poured into Intrepid gnawed at the durasteel support structures, weakening them and making some run like ice under a welding torch. The drive portion of the ship still pushed the massive craft forward, causing the ship's narrow hull to buckle and begin to telescope. More structures gave way, allowing the drive portion to sheer off the bottom of the neck, which started to pitch the bridge portion higher. The bridge began a long, lazy somersault and-like a flower spilling pollen-escape pods erupted from it and flew away.

  Krennel watched and nodded, and then even allowed himself a smile. Grand Admiral Thrawn had always maintained that studying the art of a people would give an insight into how to deal with them. What Krennel saw floating in system M2934738 appeared to him to be art, and he very much enjoyed the fact that he had created it. How better to be the artist than to be the one studying the art.

  He flicked his comlink over to a channel that would address the Reckoning's crew. "This is Prince-Admiral Krennel. You have all done very well today. I want recovery crews out there to pick up the freighters we have disabled and bring their supplies to us." He hesitated for a moment, mulling a point over, and then decided to address it in a way he thought Isard would approve of. "I want shuttles to go out to see to the escape pods. Inform the people in them that we are fighting the New Republic, not them. We will take them aboard and return them to the New Republic, asking only their parole. As long as they agree not to fly or fight for the New Republic for the duration of its war with the Hegemony, they will be free to go. Otherwise we will treat them as prisoners of war and house them in accord with all civilized regulations concerning such prisoners. Krennel out."

  He allowed himself a smile, and imagined the praise Isard would heap upon him for his decision concerning the prisoners. She may know politics, but I am learning. When I know enough, I will no longer need her. That day will come sooner than she can imagine, to her regret and my great joy.

  23

  Wedge Antilles was glad Colonel Vessery remained silent as they walked through the interloper's base. Wedge didn't know where they were and respected Vessery's being tight-lipped about their location. The base looked relatively new and decidedly Imperial; with personnel being almost entirely human, mostly male, and outfitted with Imperial uniforms.

  Broak Vessery could have stepped from a recruiting poster. He stood a bit taller than Wedge, with black hair that was beginning to lighten at the temples and sharp, noble features. His grip was firm when they met face-to-face for the first time and shook hands. He chose his words carefully, it seemed to Wedge, and had a nervous habit of picking all-but-invisible pieces of lint from the sleeves of his black jumpsuit.

  Wedge walked beside him and realized that he ought to be drinking in more of the base's details. The two squadrons that had come to rescue the Rogues had more TIE Defenders in them than Wedge thought had ever been manufactured. He wouldn't have been surprised to find out that the base belonged to High Admiral Teradoc or even had been set up by Grand Admiral Thrawn. And if that's the case, I should be gathering all sorts of intelligence here.

  The industrious portion of his mind couldn't shift the weight of his emotions and the numbness he felt inside. He'd lost four pilots in the Distna ambush. While part of him acknowledged that survival rate was miraculous considering the odds they faced, the pilots resisted becoming statistics. Lyyr and Slee had been relatively new to the squadron, but the fact that he identified them by their first names meant they'd gotten past the defenses he usually raised against getting to know new pilots.

  Asyr's loss sent a chill through him. He'd liked her and admired how she had defied the Bothan hierarchy in continuing her membership in the squadron and her relationship with Gavin. Asyr never compromised or backed down from a fight. Her spirit and determination had always pushed everyone in the squadron to perform at their highest level. The pride that the Bothans felt in her exploits meant Borsk Fey'lya and other politicians left the squadron largely alone.

  Wes Janson's death-Wedge couldn't even begin to think about it without feeling an invisible hand squeeze his heart. He'd known Wes for what seemed like forever. They'd been through everything together since just after Yavin to when the squadron had been re-formed. After the overthrow of Isard's regime on Thyferra, Janson had joined Wedge in running Wraith Squadron, and then had stuck with him during the Thrawn crisis. Though Janson's sense of humor rankled from time to time, Wedge would have given his right arm to have Janson pop up with a quick "Yub, yub, Commander."

  Vessery looked over at Wedge. "I don't wish to intrude on your thoughts, but I have two things to say to you."

  Wedge sniffed and blinked. "Please, Colonel."

  "First, I wish my people and I had gotten there sooner. I count the deaths of your people as failures on my part. Traveling through hyperspace seldom allows one to get split-second rescues right, but I should have. If I ha
d trimmed some margins on some of the courses, we'd have been there on time."

  Vessery's voice came low and sincere, bringing a solemn nod from Wedge. "Thank you, Colonel. You couldn't know exactly when they would strike, so it's not your fault. The fact that you did arrive means we lived, and for that I'll be eternally grateful."

  "You are too kind, General." Vessery paused before a door. "The second thing I would like to say to you is this: The person you'll meet in here is responsible for our arrival. Without "orders originating from this office, Rogue Squadron would be dead. Try to remember that."

  Wedge frowned. "You shouldn't believe Imperial propaganda, Colonel. New Republic officers can be very grateful and gracious."

  "Good." Vessery punched a code into the keypad on the lockplate and the door slid open. He waved Wedge into the darkened room. "After you."

  Wedge entered the darkness boldly, striding ahead for the full length of the patch of light streaming in through the door. When the door closed and cut off the illumination, he stopped and clasped his hands at the small of his back. He heard the scrape of Vessery's boots on the floor as the other pilot joined him.