“Captain, the snubfighters are going to lightspeed.”
“Thank you, Waroen. Please confirm they are outbound for Thyferra.”
His aide’s surprise rang through his reply. “Yes, sir, that’s it exactly.”
“Good. They will arrive there after twelve hours in tiny cockpits, short on fuel and sleep. The Thyferrans can deal with them. We’ll make certain they have no place to return to.”
Light laughter greeted his comment, then the communications officer raised his voice above the din. “Captain, we have an incoming message from the station.”
Drysso turned and pointed to a holoprojector pad to his left. “Please, Ensign Yesti, route it here.” As the image began to resolve itself into that of a tall man with one artificial eye, Drysso raised himself to his full height. “This is Captain Joak Drysso of the Lusankya. Your fighters have deserted you.”
“I sent the fighters off to play with something more their size.” The tall man’s hologram posted its fists on its hips. “I’m Booster Terrik, and this is my station. Your rate of closure puts you five minutes out from your preferred range for this sort of operation. I’ll give you those five minutes before I destroy your ship.”
“You’re rather bold, Terrik, for having a station with minimal shields, a half-dozen laser cannons, and ten turbo-laser batteries.”
Terrik’s image laughed. “We’ve made some modifications to the station.” The figure nodded to someone outside the image area.
Drysso felt the Lusankya rock a bit. He immediately signaled for Yesti to cut off the transmission, then he snarled at his aide. “What happened?”
“They powered up a gravity well projector. It’s projecting a cone of energy in our direction. It can’t hurt us—the bump was just our own gravity-keeping generators adjusting the gravity on the ship. We have no damage or injury reports coming in.”
Drysso frowned. The only thing the gravity well projector did was prevent them from turning and going to light-speed while still in the cone. “Lieutenant Rosion, compute hyperspace solutions for me.”
“That will be difficult, sir. Because of Yag’Dhul’s density, the array of the moons, and the gravity cone, we’re severely limited in our choices. All we can do is run away from the plane of the elliptic until we escape the current constraints on us, then head out. If you want us to return to Thyferra, our best bet would be get free, take a short jump to the edge of the system, and then head back on our entry vector, since that is the fastest route to Thyferra.”
Something else is going on here. “Lieutenant Waroen, shift assets to scan the edges of the system along our entry/exit vector.”
“Yes, sir.”
Drysso turned to watch his red-haired aide work. The young man’s pale complexion drained further of color. “Sir, I have a small taskforce on the system rim. It is composed of snubfighters and freighters and maybe a larger ship.”
“An ambush?”
“Perhaps, no, wait. Sir, the ships are outbound toward Thyferra. Exit speed is consistent with that of the freighters or our own ships.”
Drysso nodded, then turned back toward the viewport. His assessment of Antilles’s tactics had been correct: the man opted to send part of his force to Thyferra. The fact that the freighters had been waiting at the edge of the system indicated that Antilles had indeed anticipated their strike. Even with freighters and the War Cruiser in support of his operation, he can do little to hurt Thyferra. His troops will be tired because of the journey and unable to fight well. Moreover, once I destroy this station, I can return to Thyferra. I will arrive shortly after he does and pounce on his forces, destroying them. The gravity well will buy him some time, but not enough.
Drysso pointed to the holopad. “Yesti, open a comm channel with the station. Lieutenant Rosion, bring us to range and have us hold there, please.”
“As ordered, Captain. Engines, all stop.”
Terrik’s image appeared again on the Lusankya’s bridge. “I notice you have stopped, Captain Drysso. Do you have surrender on your mind?”
Drysso smiled. “I do. Yours.”
Terrik’s anticipatory smile faded into puzzlement. “I guess you think we don’t want to fight. Believe me, we do.” Again he gestured to someone outside the image area and a much heavier tremor shook the Lusankya. “As your people will tell you, we’ve just powered up all of our tractor beams and have them on you. You can try to break free, but if you do, I’ve got to see a man about a guarantee he gave me.”
“You better hope he works fast. Rosion, engines full back. Break those locks.”
“Can’t, sir. Helm is sluggish and those beams are very powerful.”
Drysso snarled at Terrik. “You give me only one choice.”
“Good. The terms of surrender are”
“No, you fool, my choice is your complete destruction. Weapons, all bear on the station. Fire on my command!”
“Emperor’s black bones!”
Drysso whipped around and spitted Lieutenant Waroen with a harsh stare, but his aide remained engrossed by a monitor and missed it. “What is happening, Waroen?”
“Sir, we have multiple proton torpedo and concussion missile sensors locked onto us.”
“How many?”
“Many, sir, over three hundred.” Waroen looked up. “We’re dead, sir.”
Drysso turned back to the viewport and imagined the rippling fire of three hundred proton torpedoes and concussion missiles smashing into his forward shield. Under that onslaught it would collapse and the missiles would begin nibbling away on his ship. And that’s only the first volley. The subsequent volleys would consume the Lusankya utterly and completely.
With Drysso’s vision of disaster came the crumbling of his plans for the future. The Lusankya was the key to everything, but he’d been tricked. Antilles had anticipated the strike at the station. He had set up a trap to destroy the Super Star Destroyer. Even if I do shoot and eliminate some of the launchers, some of the tractor beams, all that will get away will be a severely damaged ship.
Drysso hesitated and that hesitation should have lost him his ship and his dreams.
Two kilometers off his bow, the Virulence lanced upward, eclipsing the station. All of a sudden the Imperial Star Destroyer began to shrink, but it was only when he saw stars flashing back into sight at the corners of his vision did he realize why it was disappearing. They’re not destroying my ship, we’re speeding away from the station—engines are still at full reverse. The Virulence broke the locks by interposing itself between us and the station.
Drysso smiled and tasted sweat in the corners of his mouth. We’re free of the trap Antilles laid for us. He thought he had found a way to destroy us, but he did not. Now we get to spring a trap on him.
The Lusankya’s Captain turned to face his bridge crew. “Rosion, plot a course back to Thyferra, as fast as we can get there. Yesti, send Virulence our thanks. Tell them their sacrifice will be remembered—a sacrifice that allowed us to destroy Wedge Antilles and hasten the Empire’s rebirth.”
Waroen looked up at him, disbelieving. “We’re not going to help them, sir?”
“They’re just doing their duty, Lieutenant.” Drysso’s mouth soured with the fear of ever engaging the station. “We now go to do ours.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
By the time the Lusankya reverted to realspace, Captain Drysso had constructed a complete rationalization for his actions. He knew it was just that: a thin fabric of facts, circumstances and lies that would probably crumble under Isard’s scrutiny. The fact remained, though, that he needed an explanation, and it was the best he could come up with.
It all started with the premise that Antilles’s station would kill the Lusankya. This he knew and had the sensor reports to back it up. Isard herself had made it very clear that preserving the Lusankya was vital, so disengaging when given the opportunity to do so was the only choice he had. With the station being as heavily armed as it was, the only prudent course of action would be to cor
don it off and let the inhabitants starve until they chose to surrender.
Once disengagement had been mandated, the next course of action had also been obvious. He had sensor reports to indicate Antilles, the War Cruiser, and dozens of freighters had headed out for Thyferra. That was a much larger taskforce than Isard had anticipated being used against Thyferra. Only by returning home at flank speed could the Lusankya be in position to destroy that taskforce. In fact, it seemed rather obvious, that without the Lusankya’s help, the Thyferran Home Defense Corps would be overwhelmed.
He had no choice but to return to Thyferra.
He realized that abandoning his TIE fighters at Yag’Dhul could be criticized, but he could even explain that away. The TIEs were meant to supplement the Virulence’s defenses—the fighters could track and shoot down missiles before they could strike the Imperial Star Destroyer. He also expected them to get in close enough to the station to destroy launchers and then complete the destruction of the station. That his pilots were dead if both the station and the Virulence were destroyed meant little to him—they had their duty to do just as he had his. If he remained to pick them up, he would have been destroyed.
Standing before the bridge viewport, he anticipated reversion into a battlefield. As the light tunnel melted away into a scattering of stars, he saw the green-and-white ball of Thyferra above him. No X-wings swooped about. No TIEs filled the void with green laser fire. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, just freighter traffic and a few system patrols.
Drysso slammed a fist off the transparisteel viewport. He’d been had by Antilles. The feint at Thyferra had drawn him off, causing him to sacrifice the Virulence. The Rogues probably abandoned the station except for a handful of volunteers who were willing to trade their lives for that of the Virulence. The convoy I saw heading away from Yag’Dhul probably moved to another base—a base we’ll have to search out, all the while enduring more hit-and-run attacks by the Rogues.
Lieutenant Waroen’s voice cut through the cocoon of mortification closing around Drysso’s mind. “Captain, we have an Imperial Star Destroyer reverting to realspace twenty-five kilometers to our aft.”
How did Varrscha get the Virulence out of there? Drysso looked over at the holoprojector pad. “Yesti, open a comm channel to that ship. Captain Varrscha, how did you get away?”
It took him a moment to recognize the holographic image facing him, but when he did he felt a cold hand tighten around his heart. “Captain Drysso, I fear you’ve mistaken my Freedom for your Virulence.” Captain Sair Yonka smiled at him. “Don’t say you’re happy to see me—you won’t be.”
“Captain Drysso, the Freedom is deploying snubfighters, X-wings and Uglies.”
Drysso stopped before he ordered his own nonexistent fighters into battle. “Contact the planet and have the THDC’s squadrons scrambled. I want all their fighters up here protecting me. Helm, bring us about to engage the Freedom.” He pointed a finger at Yonka’s image. “I don’t think, sir, when all is said and done, you will be happy that I’ve seen you.”
The abundant undergrowth around the Xucphra corporate headquarters provided Iella and her people the means to get within twenty-five meters of the back entrance. They had expected to walk up to it, set a little lock-popping charge on it, blow it open, and be inside before much of an alarm could be raised. Ten meters along the corridor beyond the transparisteel door they’d be in the building’s security center and would be able to control alarms and access to corridors and turbolifts.
But now there are two stormtroopers standing guard at the door. At first glance they looked to be the genuine articles, but Iella noticed they chatted back and forth quite a bit. THDC banthas in rancor clothing. Even so, the strip of open ground she needed to cover was enough that the guards, no matter how poorly trained, should be able to cut her down. Because they had been prepared for a close assault, none of her people carried a blaster rifle, just carbines and pistols, so killing both of them from cover was impossible. We might hit them with carbine shots at this range, but the armor means we don’t have a guaranteed kill.
She needed a diversion, but the only real option she had was to use an explosive charge to distract them. The problem with that idea was that if it didn’t kill them, they’d undoubtedly report the explosion, providing more of an alert to the forces inside than she wanted. She reached for her comlink to ask Elscol to divert some of her people to help out, when a TIE fighter screamed overhead at treetop level.
As a second and third TIE screeched past, Iella saw the door guards look up and point at the starfighters. One even took his helmet off to get a better look, tucking his headgear under his arm. Without a second thought Iella stood and strode from the undergrowth in their direction, shielding her carbine from sight with her body and turning her head to likewise watch the starfighters fly past.
A full dozen of the fighters roared out of their hangar, letting Iella know Wedge and his people had finally arrived. Now if I can just do my part. She looked up at the guards, smiling at them, as she reached the base of the stairs leading to the door.
“ ’Scuse us, ma’am, but you can’t be here.” The helmet-less guard leaned his blaster carbine against the wall and began to fumble with his helmet again. “Restricted area.”
“Oh, sorry.” Iella reinforced her smile, then brought her blaster carbine up. She scythed fire back and forth, burning holes in the white plastoid armor over the guards’ chests and bellies. The helmet fell from lifeless hands and bounced down the ferrocrete stairs as she ran up past it. She stepped over the body of one guard, then leveled her carbine at the door’s lock and triggered a burst of scarlet fire that vaporized it.
Before she could push the door in with her foot, two Ashern Vratix reached the landing. With their powerful legs they kicked the guards’ bodies off the landing. Brandishing blaster pistols fitted with adapters to accommodate their thick-fingered hands, the Ashern warriors bulled their way through the door and stalked down the hallway.
The security station’s duraplast door crumpled beneath a Vratix kick. The Vratix went in, and lurid blue backlighting accompanied their assault. Iella arrived at the doorway seconds behind them and went in with her carbine ready, but all three of the Xucphra security police were out. Two had never even had a chance to draw their blasters and all three lay in pools of steaming caf.
“Definitely picked the wrong time to be taking a break. Secure them so they won’t be a problem when they wake up.” Two human resistance fighters complied with her orders while a third dropped into the chair at the center of the building’s security console. “Can you shut this place down, Jesfa?”
“Can a Vratix jump?” The dark-haired commando pointed at the twin banks of four monitors atop the console. “These provide views of various sites around the building—one for each of six floors and the two towers. I can see everything and,” he added as he settled his fingers on the keyboard, “from here I can shut everything down. This is the same system I used to use when I worked security for Zaltin.”
“Good. Lock everything down except for one turbolift. Secure the shuttle hangars in the towers and open up the main entrance.”
“Consider it done. I’ll shift my comlink to Tac-two so I can keep you apprised of anything I see.”
Iella smiled. “Do that, but don’t be surprised if they shoot the holocams out. I would.”
She patted him on the shoulder, then fished her comlink out of her pocket. “Hook to Blade, we’re in. The way is clear for you.”
“On our way, Hook.” Elscol sounded happy for the first time Iella could remember. “Good work.”
Erisi Dlarit’s anger at having her squadron last in the long line of Thyferran Home Defense Corps fliers heading out to engage the Rebels made her tighten her grip on the Interceptor’s controls. Might Squadron, a group of green pilots that shared hangar facilities with her Elite Squadron, had been scrambled immediately. They take their name to mean strength, but we’ve always considered it the answer to t
he question “Will they fight?”
She’d had to place a call to Isard’s office to find out why her pilots had not been called up, but no one there answered. Exercising the discretion her position gave her, Erisi immediately scrambled her own squadron. Better we’re destroyed in space than destroyed on the ground.
The instant she became airborne, Erisi pulled tactical data from ground control and didn’t like what she saw. An Imperial Star Destroyer and an Alderaanian War Cruiser were moving to engage the Lusankya. The Imperial Star Destroyer had rolled and was flying along so its hull was perpendicular to that of the Lusankya. This would allow the Impstar’s port gunners to be shooting down the top of the Super Star Destroyer. The Alderaanian War Cruiser worked back toward the Lusankya’s aft; and once it worked its way in past the system’s freighter traffic, it would be able to attack the larger ship’s engines.
The snubfighters deployed by the Impstar were closing in formation on the Lusankya. The THDC fighter squadrons coming up to oppose them were not flying together, but were strung out so the Rogues would engage them piecemeal. That’s suicidal.
Erisi punched up a tactical frequency on her comm unit. “Elite Lead to Virile Lead. Slack your speed and let Might Squadron join up with you.”
“No can do, Elite Lead. We have our orders.”
“Consider them countermanded. Make sense, this is Rogue Squadron you’re facing.”
The Bacta War Page 30