The Bacta War

by Michael A. Stackpole

  “No!” Erisi and Ysanne looked at each other in surprise as their joint denunciation of that suggestion echoed loudly through the room. Isard shook her head. “That would kill the price of bacta and loosen the dependency of others upon us.”

  “Agreed, but we can survive the momentary weakness, Rogue Squadron cannot. The strength of the bacta price is their strength. Take it away, and they are left penniless. Karrde won’t speak with them. They will be unable to maintain their spacecraft and will no longer appear to be friends worth protecting. Make bacta abundant, offer a reward to bring Antilles and his people in, and hint that bacta will remain abundant if they are captured or betrayed to you and Antilles is done.”

  Even as he outlined the plan, Vorru knew Isard would reject it. It is the easiest and most bloodless of the plans needed for getting rid of Antilles. She will reject it because it does not satisfy her sense of revenge. She wants him to suffer, not wither. I doubt she recognizes she should reject it because of the backlash she will suffer among the Xucphra people when their standard of living crashes.

  Isard slowly shook her head. “Antilles has defied me directly and has killed one of my Destroyers. I want him dead, I want Horn dead and the others, but I want them to know I was the hand behind it, not market vagaries. Moreover, relinquished power is power that is not easily recovered. Next.”

  “The other plan is the current one—a plan that requires vigilance and patience. We keep seeking information and then pounce when we know where he is.” Vorru shrugged stiffly. “The problem with this plan is that it is frustrating, since we cannot act until we know where he is based. That could take three months, six, a year.”

  “Unacceptable.” Isard shook her head adamantly. “I am not going to sit back and allow Antilles free rein while I just wait. This situation cannot be allowed to mature further. We need action. I want to kill something, and I want to use her pilots to do it.” Isard pointed an unwavering finger at Erisi. “If your pilots are truly elite, killing something should not be beneath them.”

  Vorru felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Halanit was a disaster, yet she would repeat it. “Madam Director, a raid right now would be a waste of people, parts, munitions, and goodwill.”

  “But it will show High Admiral Teradoc and that fool Harssk that they should not trifle with me and laugh at me. And what need have I of goodwill? Do I not own all the bacta there is? Others should please me with their actions, not seek to be pleased by me.”

  Vorru held his hands up. “There is no question you have power others would do well to respect, but attacking another place like Halanit will inspire more fear than you want.”

  Isard gave Vorru a predatory smile, all sharp tooth and pitiless. “But fear is exactly what I want, Minister Vorru. However, I take your point. I will still have my attack, and Commander Dlarit’s people will do it, but we’ll spare off-worlders for the moment.”

  She blithely turned her attention on Erisi, and the Thyferran woman paled. “You will plan a mission that punishes the Ashern for their boldness in resisting me. Their antics have been hardly damaging, but I want them to know that to defy me is to court death. Find something—a munitions dump, a rebel camp, a sympathetic village, anything. Find it and destroy it. No warning, no mercy.” She smiled. “No question who the true power here is.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Mirax Terrik found herself surprised by the delighted smile on Talon Karrde’s face. A crescent lined with white teeth split his moustache from his goatee and gave him the rakish air of a space pirate. What surprised her was not that Karrde could smile so handsomely, but that he dared to, given the scowl on her father’s face. Karrde can’t be ignorant of my father’s temper, so he thinks he’s anticipated our trouble.

  Karrde, alone in his cabin, waved both of the Terriks to chairs. “I’ll dispense with greetings because I suspect you’d doubt my sincerity after what happened at Alderaan.” Karrde came around to the front of his desk, then leaned back on its edge, crossing his long legs.

  Mirax sat in the chair she’d been offered, but her father remained standing. He rested his hands on the back of his chair, then leaned forward to bring his eyes down to Karrde’s level. Mirax knew the posture well—her father lowered his head like a thirst-mad bantha preparing to sprint to a watering seep. She’d seen other creatures begin to cringe as Booster did that, but Karrde did not.

  “Karrde, I’ve been over the details again and again. I’ve checked my people.” Booster tapped Mirax’s shoulder with his thumb. “I’ve even had her CorSec suitor look some material over to check this out.”

  Mirax covered her reaction to her father’s statement. Booster had asked her for advice about making a final check on his security records, and she had brought Corran in on it. Booster had not been pleased when he found out that “CorranSec” had gone over things, but he accepted Corran’s conclusions. Now he makes it sound like he solicited Corran’s advice. We’re going to talk about this.

  Karrde held a hand up. “I know what you’re going to say.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think so.” Karrde’s eyes actually twinkled. “You’ll tell me that the leak to the Imps came from my organization.”

  Booster’s head came up. “You knew?”

  “Not before the fact, no. I had no idea. Afterward, though, it was rather obvious.” Karrde shrugged. “Melina Carniss sold you out.”

  Booster straightened up to his full height. “Have you killed her, yet?”

  “No. I didn’t want to precipitate action that could not be reversed.”

  Booster chuckled deeply. “You are studying her to find her connection to Isard.”

  “Actually I wanted to see how far she had spread Isard’s influence in my organization; but, yes, I have been watching her.” Karrde folded his arms across his chest. “Now that you’re here, I thought I would allow you to determine how you want to deal with this situation. Shoving her out into space would probably be the most expedient method of killing her. I heard about a renegade band of Twi’leks who used to run electricity through a vat of bacta, torturing their victims to the point of death, then turning off the electricity and allowing the bacta to heal them up.”

  Mirax swallowed against the bile rising in her throat. “Easier just to let the word get out that Melina was a binary-agent: She sold the Imp ambush to us just the same way she sold us to Isard. Let the bacta witch deal with her.”

  Karrde nodded. “I also have a Wookiee in my employ who could”

  Booster shook his head. “No, no Wookiees. Armpits are convenient for lifting corpses and moving them to dump sites.”

  “I’ll loan you any weapon you want to deal with her. I have things from all over, including a recently acquired Sith lanvarok that promises to be truly elegant, if I’ve figured out correctly how it’s supposed to work.” Karrde frowned. “But you’re not left-handed, so that will complicate things.”

  Mirax raised an eyebrow. “You really have a lanvarok?”

  “Yes, do you have a buyer?”

  “A collector.”

  “Good.”

  “And he’s left-handed.”

  “Even better.”

  “If you will give me details on the lanvarok and authenticate its Sith origins”

  Booster cleared his voice. “We have current business to discuss before you get going on this deal.”

  “Of course, Booster, of course.” Karrde smiled. “We can holograph the lanvarok in use and that should help spike the price”

  Booster shook his head. “No.”

  “You prefer another method for dealing with traitors?”

  “I do.” Booster smiled broadly. “I want you to keep her alive and working.”

  Karrde frowned. “Why?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Not good enough, Booster. You’ll have to do better if you want her to stay alive. She betrayed one of my customers to an enemy, causing harm to my customer, my people, and my reputation. She has to die.
”

  Booster’s protestations confused Mirax. She looked up at her father. “Why do you want her to live?”

  Karrde’s eyes narrowed. “I believe, for one thing, your father will suggest that with Carniss still in place, Isard won’t try to infiltrate a new spy into my organization.”

  Booster nodded. “Better the Hutt you have tagged than one you don’t.”

  “Agreed, Booster, but I’m still afraid I can’t accommodate you in this.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, please, don’t act so incredulous.” Karrde shook his head gravely. “I can’t have her threatening my customers. It’s bad for my reputation and bad for morale and puts me at a serious disadvantage in my business dealings. She’s going to die.”

  “You gave me a choice of how she dies.”

  “Old age is not one of the options I had in mind.” Karrde waved away Booster’s comment. “No, she has to die. There is no retreating from this point.”

  “No?” Booster arched an eyebrow over his artificial eye. “I have more things to buy. I can always take my business elsewhere.”

  “If I had a credit for every time I heard that sort of empty threat, I could buy and sell Thyferra and Isard a dozen times over.” Karrde snorted. “I believe our old business is concluded. Now about that lanvarok”

  “Don’t be so anxious here, Karrde.” Booster slowly smiled. “You’ve got our munitions business already—though that could change. This is something more.”

  “It would have to be special if you expect to buy Me-lina’s life with it.”

  “I think it is. I was going to give it to Billey—pitch some work his way for old times’ sake.”

  Karrde nodded. “Dravis, the new guy working for him, is good.”

  “So I’ve heard, but you’re better.”

  Karrde smiled. “So I’ve heard.”

  “Anyway,” Booster growled, “I want a gravity well projector.”

  Mirax covered a smile as Karrde coughed and regarded her father with disbelief. So you can be surprised, Karrde. Not easily, but possibly.

  “A gravity well projector?” Karrde shook his head. “Billey can’t get it for you.”

  Booster nodded. “It’s impossible to get one, I know, but I could use it, and so I thought I’d start asking. If you can’t do it”

  “Reverse thrust there, Booster. I just said Billey couldn’t get it.”

  “You can?”

  Karrde lifted his chin. “Easily.”

  “Sure. That’s the deepest bucket of sithspit I’ve ever heard being sloshed about.”

  “I can, and I will, and it will cost you.” Karrde’s eyes narrowed. “But giving me that purchase order doesn’t get you Melina Carniss’s life.”

  Booster smiled. “Does it give me six months of her life?”

  Karrde closed his eyes for a moment. “Two months, but she’ll be isolated from most of my operations.”

  “I see. I also need parts for a squadron of TIE fighters. I want some Y-wing ion cannons and circuitry refit kits that will allow me to put the cannons in the starfighters.”

  “That’s custom work. It’ll be expensive.” Karrde looked at the fingernails on his right hand. “And it will get you another month of Melina’s life.”

  Booster leaned forward, his fingertips digging into the plush cushioning of the chair’s back. “Take it out of the money you’ll make selling our bacta hauls.”

  Karrde laughed as he shook his head. “You’re selling me bantha hides before you’ve killed the bantha, Booster.”

  “I’d ask you to trust me on this one, Karrde, but I know that would take more credits than buying Carniss’s continued survival.” Booster frowned. “We have ops planned that will pull in bacta. Locate the items and wait for us to deliver before you order them. We’ll sell the bacta to you at seventy percent of the galactic average price.”

  “Fifty percent and you’ll leave the Coruscant market open to me.”

  The chair’s nerfhide covering squeaked as Booster’s grip tightened. “The bacta we deliver there is being used to fight the Krytos virus. That’s pure charity and a stopgap that’s preventing the spread of the virus off Coruscant. It’s not a profit center.”

  Karrde’s face hardened. “Every place is a profit center, Booster. You know that.” He raised a hand to stop Booster’s growl from growing into an argument. “I’ll donate freely seventy percent of the allocation you’d have delivered to the world, but the other thirty percent I’ll use to feed the black market demand. You have to know that you’re already losing nearly forty percent to the black market now, after delivery, so I’ll get more where you want it to go.”

  “And that gives me a stay of execution on Melina Carniss?”

  Karrde nodded. “Her life is in your hands.”

  Booster glanced down at the deck, then slowly nodded. “You’re a bastard, Karrde.”

  “Quite possibly, but you know you’d have let me keep thirty-five percent of the bacta to sell on Coruscant if I’d pressed you for it.”

  Booster’s head came up. “Perceptive, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mirax, who slowly shook off the shock the frank bargaining had sparked in her, frowned. “Why didn’t you push for as much as you could get?” Karrde hesitated, and Mirax could see his decision to answer her question was a struggle for him. He plays things so close to his vest that he’s reluctant to let someone else see how he works.

  Some of the amusement drained from Karrde’s face. “I’m going to turn the Coruscant black market work over to Billey. I don’t think he and Dravis could handle thirty-five percent of the supply you’ll bring me. No reason I should give them enough of a supply to allow the bottom to drop out of that market. Thirty percent is enough to suit me and them.”

  Booster smiled and gave Karrde a nod. “Keep it up and I’ll take back the bastard remark.”

  “What, and make me earn it some other way?”

  “Good point. I want to still work with Carniss to set up our rendezvous, but we’re going to plan them in a way that will prevent Isard from ambushing us again. I’ll give her a circuit of worlds to travel on. When your ships come into a system they’ll be told to proceed with the journey, or they’ll be met by our people and the exchange will take place. Isard can’t cover all those locations and her bacta convoys.”

  Talon Karrde smiled. “A rendezvous circuit, I like it. You know where you’ll meet them; and if the system looks wrong, you know where they will go next, so you let them go. Very good.”

  “I think it will work. It will keep Carniss busy and frustrate Isard.”

  “So you have a use for Carniss in the future?”

  “Perhaps.” Booster smiled. “How soon can you get me that gravity well projector?”

  “A month. Maybe two.”

  “Good.” Booster extended his hand toward Karrde. “I can’t say it was a pleasure doing business with you, but I’ve spent more time doing less with fewer results in the past.”

  Karrde shook Booster’s hand. “It’s a good thing you’re retired, Booster. I wouldn’t like having to split the galaxy between us. Please, don’t leave quite yet. I’d offer you my hospitality.”

  Booster smiled. “And you want to talk to Mirax about the lanvarok.”

  “Indeed,” Karrde laughed, “it’s a very good thing you’re retired.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Iella drew her knees up to her chest and settled her arms around them, then sighed. Diric would have found this place fascinating. Softly muted moonlight glowed green through the room’s skylight. It managed to make the spare room seem warmer and more inviting, despite the lack of amenities.

  Human amenities, she corrected herself. To the Vratix this would be next to luxury.

  The Vratix who still lived in harvester tribes were scattered over the face of Thyferra, living in villages much akin to the one in which Iella and the Ashern rebels had sought refuge. The buildings themselves were created out of an air-dried mud a
nd saliva mixture that the Vratix slathered on a twig and branch lattice. While not as strong or durable as ferrocrete, the towers and tunnel houses, if unmaintained, could still last as long as five years.

  In the past, before the Vratix became civilized, the elemental dissolution of their dwellings would force a migration to a new area, carefully allowing their previous territory to recover from their habitation. Likewise, in the past, the Vratix themselves had provided the saliva and had done the mixing to prepare the mud. Now they used a domesticated branch of a similar species, the knytix, to create the mud for Vratix masons. The knytix, which resembled the Vratix—though smaller, blockier, and less elegant in form—were kept as pets, as work animals, and Iella had heard, as food for special occasions. When she had said she could never eat a pet, a Vratix had explained that pets were offered as a gift to those the family wished to honor, it became apparent that the level of their sacrifice showed the depth of their respect for the individual to whom the offer was made. That certainly made the practice more understandable, but she still couldn’t imagine eating a creature a young Vratix once called Fluffy or its Vratix equivalent.

  Though eating knytix could have easily been seen as a primitive practice by a barbaric society, the Vratix clearly were anything but. The Vratix village consisted of several towers that rose up into the middle reaches of the gloan trees. Concentric circular terraces with little walls at the lip gave each tower the look of a stepped pyramid, though the rounded foundation made it more elegant. Huge arching bridges connected one tower to another and were all but hidden by the thick forest foliage.

  Vratix artistry was not limited to the architecture. The green skylight had been made by a Vratix artisan who chewed various rain forest leaves into paste, then fashioned it into a film thin enough to allow light to pass through. It appeared delicate in the extreme, yet was strong enough to ward off rain and survive other climatic conditions.

  The stems and veins of the leaves formed a complex and chaotic network that looked visually attractive, but Iella knew that was not its primary purpose. Because both light and sound took time to travel to the eye and ear, respectively, the Vratix considered them secondary and deceptive senses. What one saw or heard was always something that had happened in the past, but what one could feel with the sense of touch, that was immediate and present in real time.