Star Wars - X-Wing 02 - Wedge's Gamble

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Fey'lya's purple eyes glowed luminescently in the half-light. "We met on Noquivzor approximately seven stan­dard weeks ago. Do you think this was a misguided assassination attempt?"

  Ackbar thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Unlikely. If he killed the Rebellion leadership he would make himself a target. I suspect he thought he was at­tacking Rogue Squadron, to pay them back for hitting his ships. His facility for carrying a grudge is all but legend­ary. We made no secret of where Rogue Squadron was

  staying primarily to keep the Empire looking at Noquivzor instead of closer to home."

  "How badly was Noquivzor hit?"

  Ackbar's eyes half closed. "We had major damage to the barracks complex. Multiple floors collapsed one atop another. We will be a long time digging bodies out. Rogue Squadron lost a significant portion of their support staff. The hangar complex, on the other horizon, escaped dam­age. When we get them back from Coruscant they will have ships to fly."

  "Even the worst plague will spare some of the virtu­ous." The Bothan slowly shook his head. "Warlord Zsinj is becoming more of a problem. If we do not strike back at him and hit him hard, he will be emboldened and hit us again."

  "Agreed, but where do we hit him? He's as elusive as the Katana fleet. The galaxy is a big place and even with back-plotting and reports coming in, pinpointing his loca­tion is all but impossible. To find him would demand a full fleet operation, and that would mean we delay the Coruscant operation indefinitely."

  "But if we were to do that and try to hunt Zsinj down, we would suddenly open ourselves to more repri­sals by him and might give Ysanne Isard the opening she needs to strike at us." Fey'lya smoothed the fur around the mouth with his left hand. "Fighting on two fronts is folly."

  "Truly spoken." Ackbar cocked his head slightly. "You would not be here if you did not have an idea to of­fer, for this discussion merely verbalizes facts plainly in evidence to anyone who has read the reports."

  A hurt expression stole upon Fey'lya's face, but the intelligence in his eyes robbed it of its intended effect. "To escape a rancor, one is wise to ignore the bite of a flea."

  "Meaning?"

  "We cannot shift our focus from the Empire. What I propose is a bold strike at Coruscant."

  "We're not ready."

  "We must be." Fey'lya opened his hands. "We are al-

  ready staging for it and nothing in reports from Corus­cant give any indication that Isard is increasing her de­fenses. She must know we are not ready so she thinks she has time to prepare. If we go now, soon, she will be taken unawares."

  "You grossly underestimate Iceheart if you think she is ever unprepared."

  Fey'lya's head came up and his jaw opened in a pred­atory grin. "You are not protesting the plan as utter mad­ness. Your thoughts parallel mine, don't they?"

  Ackbar sat forward again, his barbels quivering. "We are at a critical junction. Iceheart's preparations for the invasion she has to know is coming have been insuffi­cient. Reports from Coruscant are favorable. Because of recent developments it appears it is possible to unite dis­parate parts of the Coruscant population to give us a par­tisan force on the planet. They are poorly equipped, but can be disruptive and distracting."

  "Can they disrupt and distract enough to bring the shields down?"

  "I do not know." Ackbar shook his head. "I have sent a message to Commander Antilles directing him to formulate and prepare to implement a plan to do just that, with the resources he has on hand. Once I receive a reply that indicates he has such a plan prepared, I will give him a target time for when it has to go into effect. When the shields go down, we will arrive at Coruscant."

  The Bothan's eyes narrowed. "You allow for no slip­page in his plan. What if he cannot bring it off in time?"

  Ackbar's jaw opened in a smile. "I have had a report which makes this plan viable in the event that Com­mander Antilles and his people fail to bring the shields down. You may recall that in recent months the Interdic­tor cruiser Black Asp ran afoul of Rogue Squadron? Their Captain, a woman named Uwlla Iillor, filed a protest over the transfer of her flight operations officer from her com­mand. The protest was ignored and, apparently, was enough to prompt her and her staff to decide to defect.

  This gives us an Interdictor cruiser, something we have not had before.

  "Depending upon the course we choose, the journey from Borleias to Coruscant will take approximately twenty standard hours. My intention is to send the Black Asp in early and have it jump to the outer edges of the Coruscant system. If the shields are not down, the Inter­dictor will power up the gravity well projectors and drag our invasion fleet from hyperspace prematurely. If the shields are down, Iillor will do nothing and allow us to revert from hyperspace right on top of Coruscant."

  Fey'lya slowly nodded. "Elegantly simple but decid­edly effective. You clearly trust this Captain Iillor. You do not think her coming over is one of Ysanne Isard's decep­tions?"

  "No. Captain Iillor cites interference by Imperial In­telligence with her command as the primary reason for her defection. General Cracken has cleared her and has his people working on her staff. Within a week the Black Asp will be operational with an Alliance crew."

  The Bothan nodded. "The ship will be renamed?"

  "The crew has chosen a hopeful name: Corusca Rain­bow."

  "An omen, to be sure."

  "That is my hope." Ackbar gave Fey'lya a wall-eyed look. "You will propose this plan to Mon Mothma?"

  "In both our names, yes." Fey'lya smiled. "With her support and the two of us backing it, the Provisional Council cannot fail to make it operational."

  "Good." The Mon Calamari nodded. "Then I just have to see that the operation does not fail."

  28

  Kirtan Loor dropped to one knee before the holographic image of Ysanne Isard but did not bow his head. "Thank you for replying to my request so quickly, Madam Direc­tor."

  She arched an eyebrow at him. "Displays of ego and spirit always attract my attention, Agent Loor."

  "Good, then I can take it that you will be reprimand­ing General Derricote?"

  "Why?"

  Loor blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "Why? Madam Director, he took it upon himself to go into Invisec and select subjects for his experimentation who were transported directly to his lab. He violated every known security procedure we have in doing that. The Sullustans he took were not properly screened so we do not know who they were. The other captives spoke of an Alien Combine and the Sullustans might have been able to supply more useful information on that organization."

  Isard dismissed his protest with a sneer. "I have told him you are to be allowed to interview his subjects."

  "Oh, yes, but he immediately injected them with the newest strain of his Krytos virus. The interviews would

  have to take place with my people in isolation suits, which means the subjects would know they were never getting out. Their motivation to cooperate would be gone. And if he's right, if this strain has an incubation period of two weeks, the subjects would be well into dementia and death before analysis would let us conduct other interro­gations."

  "That is not your concern at this moment, Agent Loor. General Derricote's Krytos project is of paramount importance. This new strain could be the breakthrough we need to prepare Imperial Center for the Rebels." Fire flared in her molten left eye. "That idiot Zsinj attacked the Rebels to salve his own wounded pride. He doesn't re­alize that if they were to mobilize their entire fleet and de­vote it to hunting him down they'd have him inside a year. The fool thinks he is powerful, but he doesn't realize all he has done is to force the Rebels to move more swiftly to take Imperial Center—too swiftly."

  Loor sat back on his heel. "There is no indication of impending operations according to our spy in Rogue Squadron."

  "I know that, but I also know their leadership. They mean to wipe us from the galaxy and they cannot do that if they end up chasing after every Moff who decides he should be the next Emperor. Imperial
Center is the key to power in the galaxy. They know that and they know the sooner they sit Mon Mothma on the Imperial throne, the easier their crusade will be."

  The audacity of launching a strike at Imperial Center surprised Loor, but he knew the leaders of the Rebellion often saw the impossible as necessary and their successes against the Death Stars had made them think they could succeed at anything. Isard had purposely left Imperial Center vulnerable, but only so the Krytos virus could cause the Rebel Alliance to collapse. If it were not ready, her plan would fail and the Alliance would be stronger than ever.

  "I will monitor the situation, Madam Director."

  "Oh, yes, you will." She stabbed a holographic finger

  at him. "The Rogues can plan all they want, but nothing can actually be done for two weeks. I am going to deploy this version of the Krytos virus so it can be introduced to the planetary water supply starting now. We will see if Derricote's predictions on its speed and lethality are cor­rect, and assuming they are, we will save ourselves two weeks of waiting. If the Rogues strike too soon, all will be lost. Two weeks minimum—a month would be better. Develop the resources you need, do whatever you must, but see to it that the Rogues do nothing substantive be­fore I want them to."

  "It will be done, Madam Director." Loor bowed his head, but when he looked up again her image had van­ished. He stood, slowly, and a smile spread across his fea­tures. "Develop resources and do what I must. By your order."

  He walked from his dark, cramped office down a short corridor to another room. The door whisked up into the ceiling, revealing a dark room with a figure bound to a chair and flanked by two stormtroopers. Loor walked in and took the man sitting there by the chin, elic­iting a snarl from him.

  Loor laughed, releasing the chin, then backhanded the man across the face. "Displays of spirit can be pain­ful."

  "Nothing you can do will hurt me, Loor."

  "Ah, you do remember me. I should be flattered, Patches." Loor looked down at Zekka Thyne and hit him again. The man's head rocked back, but the red eyes stared up at him, full of defiance. Striking Thyne had a cathartic effect on him, but Loor refused to indulge him­self. "Fortunately for you, I remember you as well."

  "You'll get nothing from me, Loor."

  "But you have nothing I want, Patches." Loor tapped fingers against his own breastbone. "I have something to offer you, however. Rogue Squadron brought you and other Black Sun scum to Imperial Center, then they fol­lowed you. There is only one implication for this, which

  is to suppose you and they are preparing for an assault on Imperial Center."

  "I know nothing about that."

  Loor grabbed an ear and twisted it cruelly. "You're listening now, not speaking."

  Thyne stared vibroblades at him but remained silent.

  "Good." Loor released him. "You will be my eyes and ears within the Alliance community here. I want to know their plans. I want timetables, suppliers, personnel rosters, anything and everything. If you give me what I want, I let you live."

  "If I walk out of here, you will never be able to get me again so your threat means nothing."

  "Oh, I won't be the one to kill you. Not firsthand, anyway. What I will do is allow Black Sun slicers to ob­tain files that even go back to my CorSec days noting how you were working for me. They will implicate you in the downfall of Black Sun here on Imperial Center. Your fate will be decided by your brethren, not me."

  That threat damped some of the defiance in Thyne's eyes. "Do not be disheartened, though, Patches, I would not surrender you unless forced to. These stormtroopers will conduct you to a place to which you will say you es­caped after your speeder bike was brought down. We've been combing the area constantly for the last three days. You will tell your compatriots that you were in hiding and finally managed to escape. They will believe you."

  "No one will believe I hid."

  Loor looked over at one of the stormtroopers. "He's right. Before you leave him inflict a nonfatal abdominal wound—one he could survive and one that won't hamper him too much."

  "You don't need to do that."

  Loor smiled. "Oh, but I think we do. Verisimilitude. If you can't believe you would have been hiding, no one else will. People are suspicious, especially people like Corran Horn."

  "Then this will be another thing I owe him for. If it weren't for him, I'd not be in your custody."

  "Indeed," Loor nodded confidently. "And just to show you that I'm not a monster, I'll give you a gift. If you find a convenient time to kill Corran Horn, do so. I consider him a threat to you and your operation. His elimination, therefore, will please me no end."

  29

  Corran hated waiting. It seemed that since he'd left the rest of the Rogues with the Ithorian he'd done little but wait. After departing from the Ithorian's jungle—which was just one apartment within a whole complex filled with such apartments so the Ithorians could live together, as was their wont—he had used a public comm station and had called a number Rima had given him. The re­cording at the other end asked him to punch in a personal code, which he did, then he was given instructions on where to go.

  Being careful to see he was not followed, he went to the location indicated. He found himself at a biopod hotel run by a Selonian. The tall, slender creature showed Corran to a small pod midway up on a wall of pods. As Corran climbed in he estimated the cockpit of his X-wing was larger. He dialed the external opaquing for his door up to full, then lay down in a pod that measured two me­ters in length, a meter in height, and a meter in width.

  He immediately adjusted the temperature up—it was set low enough that he figured a Sullustan had been the last occupant—and opened a channel on the comlink to let music fill the pod. The datapad display unit above his

  face flashed through a series of instructions concerning fire exits, the location of refresher facilities, and the loca­tions of nearby culinary establishments. He watched that until one advertisement showed a Gamorrean digging a paw into a bowl of something pink that pulsed, at which point the need for locating food became moot.

  He remained at that location for two days before Rima came for him and took him to another place that was better suited to his needs, though it was in need of a great deal of repair. Plasteel sheets covered one of the apartment's walls. The furnishings, while hardly worn at all, were tattered and torn. The carpet had some blood in it and transparisteel occasionally crunched underfoot. The interior wall opposite the plasteel wall had been heavily dented by an oblong, vaguely cylindrical object.

  Corran looked at her. "Is this the place where a speeder bike came crashing through the wall?"

  Rima stared at him, somewhat stunned. "How do you know about that?"

  "I was driving the bike that sent it into the window." Corran ran his hand over the impression in the wall. "The others wouldn't have told you about that. The Rogues didn't know and the Black Sun people aren't much for talking about their defeats. I'd imagine they have turned the story into something about rescuing the aliens from the Imps, right?"

  "I do not know." Rima shrugged easily. "My primary concern has been seeing to it that you and Erisi are taken care of. I apologize for quarantining you two, but I don't know how much has been relayed to Imperial Intelli­gence."

  "I don't know either, but I made some basic arrange­ments before I headed out and called the emergency number you gave me. Inyri Forge was going back to the Headquarters. That is one place Fliry Vorru can be found. It was my bad luck that Zekka Thyne was there the night I visited. That's what initiated the chase that ended with my running into the Imperial raid on the Alien Combine.

  "The other Rogues have the Headquarters as a touch-

  stone. I gave them no way to reach me and I have no way to reach them save through using Inyri as a cutout. I imagine the Alien Combine also has a way to reach the other Rogues. Has there been any word on Aril?"

  Rima shook her head.

  Corran frowned. "Does that mean there's no infor­mation or there is
, but I don't need to know it?"

  "There is no news." Rima's shoulders sagged just a bit. "There was a lot of confusion in the aftermath of the raid. Some reports have suggested a group of Sullustans were led off early on, but we've no confirmation of that, nor any indication they are in any of the prisons here. They vanished and so has Aril."

  "People tend to do that." Corran's hands knotted into fists. "One thing that's important, I need to talk to Commander Antilles."

  "Who?"

  Corran smiled wearily at Rima. "I'm here, the other Rogues are here." Including Tycho. "Commander Antilles has to be here and I need to speak with him. I saw some­thing the other night that he needs to know about."

  "If it is that important, perhaps I need to know about it?"

  Not with you being as close to Tycho as you seem to be. Corran shook his head. "You don't need to know, Rima, sorry. Squadron business."

  "Very well." The white-haired woman shrugged. "Stay here until I return for you."

  "As ordered." Corran drew the blaster from the makeshift holster he'd fashioned in the lining of his jacket. "Can you get me some spare power packs for this thing?"

  "I'll see."

  "That doesn't sound very hopeful. What if storm-troopers raid this place?"

  "Ask if you can borrow some from them." Rima gave him a grim smile. "All they can say is no."

  He waited two more days, spending his time working up a line that would convince stormtroopers to surrender

  their weapons to him. He found it a singularly frustrating occupation because, since they tended to be much larger than he was, he knew he could not intimidate them. Ap­pealing to their humanity seemed a dubious prospect, as did appealing to their sense of fair play.

  He spent the vast majority of time in the apartment going over the earlier events and trying to draw conclu­sions from all of it. First and foremost he was certain he'd seen Tycho Celchu talking with Kirtan Loor. That meant the operation on Coruscant was busted wide open. With Tycho on Coruscant the Imps clearly had full descriptions and datafiles on everyone in the squadron. He had to as­sume they were under surveillance or would soon be watched.