The Bacta War

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The Bacta War Page 14

by Michael A. Stackpole

Xucphra Meander began to drift away from Alazhi. As it did so, the Alazhi began to roll to bring its turbolasers to bear on Meander.

  Wedge shifted over to his tactical frequency. “Three and Four, neutralize Alazhi. Five and Six, pick up Meander and head to Coruscant.”

  Gavin and Shiel broke their X-wings out of the formation and sprinted in at the Alazhi. They kept their fighters moving in a grand spiral, which made them very difficult to track, especially as they dipped below the turbolasers’ ability to depress sufficiently to shoot at them. Green laser bolts shot out in pairs at the incoming fighters, but they always came in above or. below the X-wings.

  Coming up on a turn in the spiral, Gavin’s fighter rolled and spat laserfire at the freighter. One quad burst hit the ship’s hull right in front of the turbolaser battery, then two more caught the battery in the side. Fire tracked up the blocky battery, blasting away at the armor plates sheathing it. Molten globules of armor rocketed off through space, then an explosion filled the battery with fire and ripped it apart.

  Shiel’s run on the aft battery proved just as effective, stripping the freighter of its offensive weaponry. The two fighters began to orbit the Alazhi, flashing past the cockpit one after another. Well away from them Rhysati, Inyri, and their two Twi’lek companions led the Meander off toward Coruscant.

  Wedge adjusted his comm unit and tightened the beam to focus on the Alazhi. “Alazhi, you are defenseless.”

  The man who had first answered him again spoke, but anger had replaced nervousness in his voice. “We can and will oppose you, Antilles. This is piracy. But we have a standoff here, because you only have fighters—you can’t board us. If you shoot us up, you or we will destroy the ship and you lose the cargo. You got some of what you want. Go away. Leave us alone.”

  He has a point—we can’t board the ship. I hadn’t expected Isard’s threat to the crew’s families. I’d thought, given that we harmed no one last time, that we would have cooperative crews. Wedge thought for a moment, then forced an edge into his voice.

  “Be advised, Alazhi, that the same software that allowed us to bring you here will, when the correct signal is sent, purge your ship of atmosphere and slave itself to our navicomp data. Your choice is not whether you come with us or not, but whether you do so alive or dead.”

  He let that sink in for a moment or two. If they call my bluff, I let them off so they can tell others that we didn’t kill them. It’ll win us some goodwill, perhaps. “Your decision, Alazhi?”

  Fear had returned to the captain’s voice. “You’d kill us just to get this bacta?”

  “I’d kill you to get the bacta to those who need it. Isard unleashed a disease on Coruscant that kills ninety-five percent of the victims who go untreated. Which should I count as more valuable: the lives of a dozen freighter crewmen or the lives of billions?”

  “You’ll help our families?”

  “You have my word on it.”

  Silence fell for several heartbeats, then the Alazhi’s captain spoke in a distant whisper. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Alazhi is yours.”

  Wedge went back to the tactical frequency. “Gavin, Alazhi is yours to shepherd on her rounds.”

  “I copy, Wedge. Transmitting data to Alazhi now. See you later.” Gavin’s X-wing swung out and around to head toward the exit vector. The two Twi’leks swooped in, taking up positions on either of the Alazhi’s flanks while the Shistavanen curled around and came up in the freighter’s wake.

  As the Alazhi came about to starboard and began its run up to lightspeed, a vastly huge white dagger thrust itself through the fabric of space on a course that cut in at the freighter’s line of flight. Dread bubbled acid into Wedge’s throat as the Corrupter reverted to realspace and opened up with its weaponry. Waves of green turbolaser energy washed down from the Star Destroyer’s port batteries. While not made for engaging snubfighters, firing at point-blank range the gunners could hardly miss. The flank Deathseeds evaporated in a cloud of green plasma. The turbolaser fire eroded all the sharp lines from Shiel’s X-wing, reducing it from a sleek fighter to a fluid blob that slammed into the aft end of the Alazhi.

  A second volley of fire from the Star Destroyer focused itself on the bacta tanker. In an instant the entire ship glowed orange, then the bacta storage tanks exploded one after another. The superheated bacta sprayed out and instantly congealed into delicate sheets of ice that mocked the violence of their birth. Similarly the transparisteel and quadaniumtitanium alloy plates used in the freighter’s manufacture twisted and flowed, tearing away and exploding outward, before they congealed into a warped mockery of what the freighter had once been.

  Of Gavin, Wedge saw nothing.

  “Condition Critical. Exit the system now on Critical vectors. Go! Go!”

  Asyr’s voice pounded into Wedge’s ears. “Wedge, what about”

  There’s nothing left of Gavin. “Go, Asyr, go now. Waiting around is just going to get you killed.” Wedge hauled back on his stick and punched his throttle up to full. He glanced over to his left and saw Asyr’s X-wing hanging off his S-foil. “Three seconds to lightspeed.”

  “I copy, Wedge.”

  Wedge hit a button on his console and made the jump to lightspeed. The stars elongated, then sucked him into a tunnel of white light, but he felt as if he left his guts back in the system with the Corrupter. It had always been the plan to scatter and flee if Corrupter showed up, but to do that after taking losses made him feel horrible. Four more are dead because of me.

  Part of him immediately rebelled at that thought, seeking to place blame elsewhere. If the Alazhi’s captain had not hesitated, then everyone would have been out of the system before Corrupter arrived. If Isard had not threatened the crews with the safety of their families, everything would have gone well. If Senator Palpatine hadn’t been greedy, this situation never would have existed.

  Wedge closed his eyes against the omnipresent light of hyperspace. “What happened back there is my responsibility. The operation had risks, but all operations have risks. Blaming myself for what happened isn’t going to do me any good. What I need to do is learn from the situation because Convarion is very good.”

  He punched up a data request and got Mynock to break down the entry and exit vectors of the various ships, then had them overlaid on the system diagram. As the astromech did so, Wedge got his first glimmer of understanding. Corrupter’s entry vector appeared very fortuitous because it angled in on Alazhi’s exit vector, but it really was the same entry vector the freighters used to arrive in the system.

  Wedge whistled slowly. What that bit of data told him was that Convarion had waited at the previous transit point, had tracked the exit vectors of all the ships in his convoy, then had his people do an analysis of them. The three ships that deviated from the planned course were discovered, their course plotted, and the Corrupter came after them. Whether the freighters were hijacked or just had a poor navigator, Convarion came after them, intent on destroying them. His ship arrived in-system and shot immediately.

  A chill crept into Wedge’s body and puckered his flesh. “Iceheart has never been one for compassion, and now she has a ship’s captain who shares her contempt for it. We’re lucky we only lost four of our pilots. I had hoped this war would be quick—I knew it would be dirty. We’re going to have to be quicker and dirtier, and with Convarion and Iceheart opposing us, that’s not going to be an easy task.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The sound of a thousand individuals stamping their heels and coming to attention echoed through the Corrupter’s hold as Fliry Vorru followed Ysanne Isard from the belly of the shuttle. Vorru looked out over the straight ranks of sailors and stormtroopers and allowed himself a smile. Such a display of Imperial might I’ve not seen since before I was sentenced to Kessel. The Rebels may own Imperial Center and may have proclaimed themselves a New Republic, but they will never know Imperial splendor like this.

  At the base of the gangway, Isard paused and offered her hand to
a small, lean man in a black uniform. The rank insignia he wore on his jacket’s left breast bore only six color tabs, but the fact that he also wore two rank cylinders told Vorru he was a Commander, not a mere Captain. Even so, because of his position of command on the ship and Imperial tradition, addressing him as Captain would be proper. And the way he genuflects before kissing Iceheart’s proffered hand shows this Convarion is nothing if not proper.

  Convarion met Vorru’s offered hand with a strong grip. The man’s sharp features, thick black hair, and blue eyes all combined to grant Convarion an intensity that surprised Vorru. I had thought all such fire-eaters had been killed at Endor. This man is ambitious and, therefore, dangerous. If he were my subordinate, I would have him killed.

  “Pleased to meet you, Captain Convarion.”

  “And you, Minister Vorru.” Convarion’s mouth smiled, but any pleasure failed to register beyond the boundaries of his lips. “I am honored that you would deign to notice my ship and our exploits.”

  Isard, wearing her scarlet Admiral’s uniform, glanced back at him with faint amusement in her eyes. “You have shown initiative, Commander, and I always notice initiative. I should like to inspect your ship, if that is possible, but first I would speak with you in private.”

  “Of course, Madam Director.” Convarion bowed, then pointed to an aisle through the middle of the bone white ranks of stormtroopers. “My wardroom is this way.”

  Vorru trailed behind Convarion and Isard. He noticed that Convarion matched his pace to that of Isard and that she, in reaction to this, varied her gait and caused Convarion to do the same. Convarion’s face gave no sign he noticed what was going on or if he was annoyed by it or not. He merely looked up at Isard with rapt attention on his face, not sycophantically hanging on her every word, but receiving what she said as if it were advice worthy of his most sincere consideration.

  Vorru suppressed a smile as he watched Convarion operate, because he knew the man had to be trying to balance two conflicting scenarios in his head. By sending the Corrupter after the errant ships, Convarion had succeeded in ambushing an Antilles operation and scattering his forces. By Convarion’s estimate Antilles lost a half-dozen ships, including several of the Uglies, known as Deathseeds by the Twi’leks who created them. Just knowing that some Twi’leks had thrown in with Antilles was valuable information itself, and Convarion would have been due some reward for just bringing that tidbit back from his mission.

  On the other hand, he had left the majority of his convoy uncovered and open to attack. Antilles had still gotten away with two ships and Convarion had destroyed another bacta freighter on his own initiative. His report had stated that the freighter was moving in conjunction with the pirates and did not acknowledge his initial hail, so he considered it hostile and destroyed it. Such decisiveness was the sort of thing Isard appreciated, but the loss of a bacta freighter was a high price to pay for it.

  The hatch to the small wardroom closed behind Vorru, trapping him in there with Isard and Convarion. Vorru moved to the end of the room far from the door and seated himself at the corner of the rectangular black duraplast table that dominated the room. Convarion hovered closest to the far narrow end of the table, ready to take his place at the head of it if Isard did not wish that position for herself.

  Isard remained standing just inside the hatchway and stared at Convarion. “Your discovery of the deception concerning the freighters was impressive, Commander.”

  “Thank you, but it was no more than should be expected from any of our personnel. I chose to wait for all of my ships to be away because the Rebels used the tactic of misjumping ships in the case of the bacta convoy that Warlord Zsinj ambushed at Alderaan. I had to assume that same tactic might be used again. Because of Corrupter’s speed, I could arrive in synch with my ships at their destination even if I delayed leaving. I had my navigators plot the outbound vectors for my ships and noticed three were off course. We plotted possible stopping points along that route and proceeded after them. It was a fairly basic pursuit operation.”

  Irritation flared in Isard’s molten left eye. “And destroying the Alazhi, was that no less than I should expect from our personnel?”

  “As I explained in my report—”

  “As you lied in your report.” Isard’s eyes narrowed. “Analysis of your ship’s data records show your gunners opened fire three seconds after reversion. A signal went out to Alazhi five seconds after reversion, and the volley of shots that destroyed Alazhi came eight seconds after reversion. You chose to shoot regardless of their response.”

  Convarion’s face constricted, pulling flesh taut over his cheekbones. “I shot in response to contingencies I had worked out prior to our arrival. Alazhi was alone, which meant the other ships had already been captured and moved. Alazhi had been disarmed and damaged. Because it was surrounded by hostile snubfighters and was moving in conjunction with them, I had to assume it was under their control. I was aware of your policy of punishing collaborators, and I chose to implement it immediately. Punishment delayed is punishment stripped of connection with the crime that triggered it. While Xucphra Alazhi’s crew will not have a chance to learn from their mistake, other crew of other ships know the policy is not an idle threat.”

  “So you chose to implement a policy without asking my permission?”

  Convarion nodded. “I did.”

  “And you are prepared to take full responsibility for doing so?”

  A slight hesitation marked Convarion’s reply. “I am.”

  The down-turned corners of Isard’s mouth rose. “Then you will execute the families of those crewmen on the Alazhi. We brought them with us in the shuttle.”

  Color drained from Convarion’s face. “If that is your wish.”

  “What I wish, Captain Convarion, matters not.” Isard strode toward him and plucked the rank cylinder from the right side of Convarion’s tunic “What I order is all that matters. What initiative you take must be within your mission parameters, it must not exceed them. Do you understand me?”

  The naval man nodded, but Vorru detected a stiffness to his motion signifying resistance. Elements of the Imperial military had never accepted Isard’s de facto running of the government, which was why many of them proclaimed themselves Warlords and created their own little empires. Those who had remained loyal, either to her or the concept of the Empire, still could bristle when she gave orders.

  Convarion’s head came up. “It is your order, then, Madam Director, that I kill the families of the crew of the Alazhi?”

  Isard’s head briefly flicked toward Convarion, but Vorru doubted Convarion caught her slip. “That situation has been dealt with already and does not need your attention. I have another task for you. Minister Vorru, your briefing.”

  Vorru pointed to the chair at the head of the table. “Please be seated, Captain Convarion. As you know, bacta is a precious fluid that is produced in limited amounts and only available from us, here, on Thyferra. All bacta in the galaxy is produced under our license and is sold with our approval. If you need bacta, there is only one place to get it.

  “At least, that was the situation until Antilles and his people pirated the first convoy. What do you think they did with that bacta?”

  “It is rather clear they didn’t sell it, since that is the obvious answer to the question.” Convarion shrugged reluctantly. “I have no idea what they did with it.”

  “They gave it away. Much of it went to Coruscant, but we anticipated that.” Vorru pressed his hands flat against the tabletop. “Because they used our ships and our crews to transport the bacta, we know where it ended up. We have shorted future allotments to various worlds to make up for the bacta they were supplied by Antilles, and we have charged them for that bacta.”

  Convarion’s expression eased. “And they have paid?”

  “Some have. Some have refused to do so.” Vorru smiled. “This presents us with a problem.”

  Isard leaned forward, posting her arms on the tab
le. “If some do not pay, we appear weak and others might balk at paying us. If they do not pay, they are as much thieves as Antilles and his people.”

  “So you have a policy you are going to order me to implement.”

  “How perceptive of you, Captain.” Vorru nodded solemnly. “We have a list of the worlds that received stolen bacta. We have eliminated those worlds that have paid us, have made arrangements to pay us, or have sufficient resources to be able to pay us. We are left with a handful of target worlds that are too poor to afford the gift Antilles gave them. You will select one of them and take our bacta back.”

  “And if there is no bacta to recover?”

  Isard straightened up and smiled mostly coldly. “If the bacta is used up, it will have granted them health. You will take it back again.”

  Convarion nodded. “It will be done.”

  Vorru raised a hand. “Not so quickly, Captain, there are some special caveats for what we want you to do. First and foremost, you will be taking along with you two companies of the Thyferran Home Defense Corps and one squadron of their fliers to carry out the work that needs to be done.”

  “But my Imperial troops will be much more efficient”

  “Indeed, but we want the Thyferrans to see the crimes of these worlds as crimes against them, not against Director Isard. We want the Thyferrans to get their hands dirty. If they are acting with us, they become complicit in our activities. They will make themselves targets for Antilles, which will bind them more tightly to us. By making them administer the punishment to these worlds, we give them an even greater stake in seeing that we remain here to help defend them, and we give them a reason to defend themselves.”

  Convarion’s eyes narrowed. “You sound as if you truly think Antilles and his rabble can actually topple you.”

  “Nonsense!” Isard dismissed that supposition with a wave of her hand. “There will come a point, however, when the New Republic considers what it is going to do about us and our control of the bacta supply. They have refrained from causing trouble so far because they are reluctant to dabble in the internal politics of worlds. To do so would split their Republic, since a number of worlds that declared independence and have joined them still have their Imperial officials in place running things. Warlord Zsinj has further distracted the New Republic, but once he has been dealt with, they will again consider us.”

 

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