diaphanous red gown swirled around her like a tornado. "You should have
anticipated this sort of strike and taken steps to prevent it."
Vorru waved her suggestion away. "I did anticipate it and chose to ignore it.
The amount of bacta taken was insignificant in comparison to both our supply
and the demand for it. In fact, the loss of that bacta has provided me an excuse
for hiking prices yet again, increasing our profits. I calculate our losses at
between seventeen and thirty billion creditsan amount I will recoup by the end
of the month."
"Bah! We lost more than just money when Antilles hit our convoy. We lost
prestige and respect." She pointed a hand toward the sky. "We have people out
there laughing at us because a dozen aging snubfighters were able to pirate
bacta from us."
Vorru let his voice sink into a bass growl as he began to pace through her roomy
office. "What we lost was insignificant and provides us an opportunity to cut
Antilles off from his base of support. He stole the bacta and made a present of
it to many of the worlds it was meant for anyway."
"My point exactly. He has earned their goodwill."
"But that will fade to bitterness when he cannot repeat his gesture." Vorru's
splayed out fingers closed into a fist. "First, we will cut allotments to worlds
to cover our losses. Second, we will delay shipments to worlds that accepted
bacta from Antilles; and third, we will demand payment from those worlds as if
the delivery had been made by Antilles on our behalf. Delinquent accounts will
receive no more service from us."
Molten fury flowed through Isard's left eye. "You're giving me bookkeeping. I
want blood."
Of course you do. Vorru's features sharpened. While Isard had been on Imperial
Centereven hidden away after the Rebel conquesther connection to that center
of power had anchored her. She had been patient and prepared to be subtle. Here,
on Thyferra, where the omnipresence of plant life and the languid lifestyle of
the human masters of the planet made it the antithesis of Imperial Center, Isard
seemed prepared to indulge her more primal urges.
"Please, Madam Director, reflect for a moment on how our current position
mirrors "that of the Empire prior to the death of our beloved Emperor. The Rebel
attacks are tiny and really insignificant in every way, except as strikes
against our prestige and image. You yourself have often said that destroying
the Rebellion must come before the rebuilding of the Empire, and in this you
have correctly focused on the core of the problem. This problem we face still
because Antilles opposes us and must be destroyed."
Vorru opened his hands and spread them. "Our problems in dealing with him are
significant at this point. We do not know where he is, so mounting a strike
against him is impossible."
Isard folded her arms over her chest. "We will begin operations to locate him."
"Of course. I have already begun to spread word through the various smuggling
networks and criminal organizations offering a substantial reward for reports on
his operations. They will bear fruit soon, I am certain." Vorru allowed himself
a smile. "Until then, by manipulating the price and supply of bacta to punish
those who deal with him, we can vilify him and cut him off from his bases of
support. To wage his little war against us, he needs supplies and allies. If
Antilles were not who he is, we would consider him of no more importance than a
pirate."
Isard raised a clenched fist. "I would still take steps to crush him. I will
have my ships fly cover missions for our convoys."
Vorru hissed as if he'd been stung. "Be careful, Madam Director."
"You caution me? Don't overstep your bounds, Vorru, or you will be dealt with."
"I recall the fate of Kirtan Loor, Madam Director, and I have no desire to be
trapped in the belly of the Lusankya." Vorru raised his open hands. "I merely
wish to point out that if we accept full responsibility for the protection of
our convoys, then Antilles will be our problem alone. This means our resources
will be spread too far and will be too diluted to deal with him and his people."
Isard's chin came up. "You have an alternate proposal?"
"Certainly. We require the customers to protect our deliveries to their worlds,
otherwise we deem their worlds too dangerous for shipments. We bring our convoys
to certain destinations and demand our customers meet us and complete their
journeys by themselves. If Antilles and his people hit them after the tankers
leave our protection, they will anger a neutral party to their dispute. The
Rogues will fight people other than our pilots, saving us personnel and
equipment, both of which we no longer have in an unlimited sup-
p'y-"
Isard's right eyebrow arched. "This would also save us on shipping costs,
increasing our profits yet again."
"True. It also allows us to prepare an ambush for the Rogues at a time and place
of our choosing. Mind you, this
will be later as opposed to sooner because we need time to let Antilles's
actions utterly destroy his reputation. We want him to be cut off, with nowhere
to hide, when we move to eliminate him."
Isard pursed her lips as she considered what he said, giving him more of a
visual indicator of her mood than he had ever seen before. "The steps you are
taking have merit, though the delay they necessitate annoys me. Finding myself
impatient is also annoying. Antilles has managed to survive and even prosper
during the time I should have dealt with him. Horn escaped from the Lusankya.
Both of them, and their companions, have chosen to oppose me directly and
openly, which has robbed me of the detachment I had when dealing with the Rebel
opposition to the Emperor."
Vorru inclined his head slightly, impressed by her self-analysis. She is loath
to entertain fantasies about herself or her situation, no matter how inviting
they might, in fact, seem. She has not lost her mind . . . yet. Whether or not
she will is another thing.
Isard stared off over Vorru's head. "The flaw Rogue Squadron has, a flaw the
Rebellion has, is the fact that they have been able to overcome all the
challenges thrown at them. Not since the days of Derra IV and Hoth have they
known defeat. They are accustomed to winning, and this self-pride can be used
against them." She nodded once, then focused on him. "Carry on, Vorru, continue
your scheming. I will let them become accustomed to dealing with you and your
methods, so when I strike, the surprise alone will be enough to kill them."
Wedge stood up behind his desk as Booster Terrik's bulky form filled the doorway
to the station manager's office. "I appreciate your coming here so quickly,
Booster. I know you wanted to spend some time with Mirax before she heads out."
The older man shrugged. "She's helping prep this Horn for his part in the
mission. There's only so much of him I can
take." Booster plopped himself down in a steel-frame canvas chair. "I think she
took up with him to annoy me."
Wedge laughed and sat back down. "I'm sure it does seem like that, but I think
there's a lot more there.
"
"CorSec has always wanted to steal our women."
Wedge arched an eyebrow in Booster's direction. "You can impart whatever motives
you want to Corran, but you know your daughter better than that, my friend."
Booster frowned. "He's using those Jedi sorceries to addle her mind."
"The only person confused about his Jedi heritage is Corran." Wedge shook his
head. "Luke Skywalker has been transmitting material about the Jedi to him to
keep alive the possibility that Corran will train to become a Jedi, but
Corran's a bit focused right now on getting at Isard and freeing her prisoners.
He's almost obsessive about ita trait you know something about."
Booster planted his massive hands on the arms of the chair. "If you want to
scold me about disapproving of the man my daughter is seeing, the message is
received. Anything else?"
"That wasn't my intentionthat would be like teaching a rancor to dance. It
probably won't work, you will get your head bitten off, and even if you do
succeed, the result won't be very pretty." Wedge shivered. "Actually, I wanted
to offer you the chance to pilot the Mimban Cloudrider on the run to Thyferra."
Booster sat back and brushed the fingertips of his left hand over his chin. The
Mimban Cloudrider was one of the Thyferran tankers. Wedge had pulled the crew
from it and, with Booster's help, had gotten identification files sliced
together that listed Mirax, Corran, Elscol, Sixtus, and Iella Wessiri as the
crew under various pseudonyms. Once in orbit at Thyferra, they could make
planetfall in a shuttle and hook up with the Ashern. Wedge still needed someone
to command the mission and thought Booster would be invaluable in that position
because of his experience and instincts.
Booster lowered his left hand to the arm of the chair. "No."
"No? You'll be able to chaperone your daughter."
"She can take care of herself."
"You'll get to pilot a ship again."
Booster smiled and his body convulsed with silent laughter. "Closer, but still
off the mark. The Cloudrider is too small. Too little to do."
Wedge frowned. "Wait a minute. When I got my freighter and started hauling
cargo, weren't you the one who told me that being the master of my own ship and
fate was the greatest thing to which I could aspire?"
Booster nodded and sat forward. "I did, but that was before Kessel. Five years
in the spice mines changed me."
"Five years spicing would change anyone." Wedge frowned. "Don't tell me Kessel
broke your spirit, because I flat refuse to believe it."
Booster's booming laughter filled the office. "Broke me? It would take more than
no air and lots of work to break Booster Terrik. The mines could be a brain
cracker for a lot of folks, especially the pols the Empire tossed in there.
Others of us were content to wait our time out. Fliry Vorru, for example, is
very patient, which makes him very dangerous. We knew the Empire would never let
him out, but he was confident he'd be out someday. I knew I would get out, but
the time there still ground on me."
The flesh around his eyes tightened, leaving the red light in his left eye
burning like a laser in the darkness. "The time I spent in Kessel was
unbelievably boring, Wedge. Monotony. Day after day the same things would happen
with the same people. There was no night, no day, just shift after shift after
shift. Prisoners might come and go, but that was it. Pain I could handle and
fight against, but boredom? It was the enemy, and it had me mashed flat."
Wedge winced. "I can't imagine . . ." There certainly were times when Wedge
would have welcomed less excitement in his life, but not year after year of it.
I'd have gone out of my mind.
"When I got out, I made one trip on the Pulsar Skate, but the solitude of
hyperspace reminded me too much of Kessel. That's why I retired and gave Mirax
the ship. Now I travel
and do deals for friends because it means I'm constantly meeting folks and
getting to know them and learn about them. I'm trying to fill the void that
Kessel left in me, and piloting Cloudrider isn't going to do that for me."
Wedge nodded. "I understand, though I wish it were otherwise. You've got skills
I need." He sat back in his chair. "Having someone I can rely on doing a job
that badly needs to be done would be a big help."
A smile slowly grew on Booster's face. "I have an idea for you that might serve
both of us and cover up some loose ends."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Let me run this station."
"What?"
"Look, you have this station that's been a trade staple in this region for a
very long time. You've got the Republic thinking it's been destroyed, which
means your enemies think that, too, but ships that come in-system to make
navigational adjustments can still see it here. You're fooling no one, and the
fact that you've shut the station down to folks who have been here a lot means
you're mak ing them angry. That, in turn, means that someone is going to sell you
out to Iceheart."
"We figured that."
"Well, you should also figure this Pretty soon no one is going to want to be
trading with Thyferra. You're giving away what Vorru wants to charge for. His
only recourse is to cut off the bacta supply going to folks who deal with you.
Once he does that, you're dead." Booster pressed his hands together. "On the
other hand, if we open this station to trade, we start generating capital for
this operation and we have people bringing us information and equipment. We
develop suppliers who are in our debt because of this stationwhich means they
won't want to betray youand who bring the material here to us instead of having
us go out and get it."
"And running the station would mean you'd be anything but bored."
"There's that, too."
Wedge closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He'd
known all along that the location of his base would get out, but Booster's idea
of making the secret's preservation valuable to smugglers and traders did
suggest it might last longer. All the years the Empire searched for Rebel bases,
it wasn't our trade partners who sold us out. And the prediction of Vorru's
action was pretty much what Wedge had figured Vorru's response would be. Wedge
had been gambling that gratitude for the free bacta would keep trade channels
open, but he agreed that supplying a profit motive would go much further in that
regard.
He opened his eyes. "Okay, that works for me. What do we use as a cover story
for why part of the station is restricted?"
Booster shrugged. "Does it matter? We can start all manner of rumors, from your
desire to emulate Warlord Zsinj and carve out your own empire to your desire to
build a force to wrest Corellia away from the Diktat or even that you and Isard
are working a racket to spike the price of bacta. The greater the number of
rumors the better, quite frankly, since they will armor the truth and result in
folks bringing us information to further our planswhatever they might be. As
long as there is some mystery here, and folks smell profits in trying to figure
it out, we'll be covered."
Wedge nodded thoughtfully. "I suspect that your taking this position means
you'll be pitted against Vorru in this war to control trade and information."
"And that won't be boring at all." Booster's smile broadened to the edges of
his face. "This will be grand."
"I hope you're correct." Wedge stood and stepped away from the station manager's
chair. "Booster Terrik, this station is all yours. May the Force be with you."
13
The shuttle ride down to Thyferra from the Mimban Cloudrider left Corran a bit
uneasy. A rising storm made the air turbulent and being strapped into a seat in
the back made Corran want to scream. He glanced over at Mirax and saw she was
having as much trouble as he was sitting still. Either one of us could pilot
this Lambda-class cargo shuttle through this storm front without this much
bumping around.
Mirax placed her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. "We'll get down."
"I figure. Crashing and dying wouldn't be nearly as interesting as the rest of
this run." Corran closed his eyes and concentrated on regulating his breathing.
He tried to convince himself he was doing that just to settle his stomach and
that he'd done such things countless times before for exactly the same reason.
It was true, but he also knew his choosing to do it now was a result of
reviewing the datacards Luke Skywalker had sent to him.
Corran admired Skywalker's ability to read him. Very little of the material sent
had been dry, boring, procedural stuffexamples of the breathing exercises were
pretty much the only things that fell into that class. By and large Luke had
provided him with stories of Jedi Knights that pointed to their long tradition
of law enforcement and their dedication to virtue and justice and not a little
to the bold, heroic tales that had made the Jedi legendary throughout the
galaxy.
The selection is perfectly focused to inspire me to join him. The problem with
it was that Corran found it rather daunting. It also caused him to start
second-guessing himself, which was something he seldom did and hated whenever he
did do it. Before reading the Jedi material, Corran would have put the dread
coiling his belly down to a reaction to the bumpy ride. Now he wondered if he
wasn't anticipating some disaster through the Force, which in turn made him
wonder if he was leading his friends into an ambush.
Star Wars - X-Wing - The Bacta War Page 11