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

by Michael A. Stackpole

  The fact that he'd stumbled across Tycho and Loor meeting in public did bother him a bit. If Tycho was an Imperial agent—as had been everyone else who'd ever been at Lusankya—why wouldn't the meeting have been held in an Imperial facility? The obvious answer to that question was that Tycho hadn't appreciated his Lusankya experience and was being wary of trapping himself in an Imperial stronghold. He was smart enough to know the Imps couldn't be trusted, so he was probably gouging them for sufficient credits to buy some far-away world and live like a Moff for the rest of his life.

  The fact that their mission had so clearly been blown really left the Rogues only one choice: leave immediately. He felt he had collected enough information about the general level of security on the planet to be useful, but he also expected all that to change in the near future, if it had not changed already. He had to assume that whatever any of the Rogues had learned was of dubious value, and therefore, their mission was a bust.

  The only way to salvage any of this is to go home and start fighting against the Empire again.

  Before he could come up with another plan that would be effective, but also before he'd admitted defeat to himself, Rima came for him. She resisted answering his

  questions about their destination and seemed abnormally taciturn and withdrawn, but she did give him power packs for his blaster, so he chose not to press her for in­formation. He did wonder what had gotten into her, but he chose not to ask questions on the street. When they slipped into the Headquarters he found other things to occupy his attention, especially his being ushered down the back corridor to a side room where Wedge sat waiting for him.

  Corran snapped to attention and saluted as Rima left the room. "Horn reporting, sir."

  Wedge returned the salute, then smiled and gave Corran a back-slapping hug. "It's good to see you're alive and well, even though the last time I saw you, you were doing your best to kill me and a number of other people."

  What? "Excuse me, sir?"

  "I was in the apartment where you sent a speeder bike through the window." Wedge held a hand up and Corran saw some half-healed cuts on it. "Nothing major, but there's not much bacta down here, so I have to heal the traditional way. Did find some ryll tincture that killed infection, though."

  "If I had known, I'd ..."

  "No one save the driver was badly hurt, so don't worry." Wedge inclined his head toward the door. "Win­ter tells me you wanted to talk with me? Something you could only tell me?"

  "Winter?" Corran frowned for a second. "Ah, you mean Rima ..."

  "Right. We'd met before. She and Tycho are friends."

  "So I've gathered, which is why I wanted to talk to you." Corran clasped his hands at the small of his back. "Five days ago, right here in the Headquarters, I saw Tycho Celchu talking with Kirtan Loor, an Imperial Intel­ligence agent."

  Wedge looked surprised, then frowned and slowly shook his head. "Five days ago?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "That's impossible."

  "I know what I saw, sir." Corran jerked a thumb back toward the bar. "I saw him as sure as the Emperor is dead." He tried to make his statement sound certain, but he was getting feelings of confusion and sorrow from Wedge's expression. "Really, I did see him."

  "That's impossible, Corran. Five days ago Warlord Zsinj attacked our base at Noquivzor. The barracks com­plex got hit hard. They're digging through the rubble now but they don't expect to find survivors." Wedge hesitated for a moment, then swallowed. "Our support staff was devastated. Zraii survived, but that was the only confir­mation they'd give me."

  "What about Whistler?" Corran blurted out the question before he realized how callous it made him sound. "He's only a droid, but . . ."

  Wedge patted him on the shoulder. "I understand. I don't have word of him directly, but Zraii was working on our fighters in the hangar, so I have to suppose most of our astromechs were there with him. The hangar es­caped serious damage. If any news comes through, I will let you know."

  "Thanks." Corran took a deep breath and tried to sort everything out in his mind. "So what you're telling me is that if I saw Tycho, I saw a ghost?"

  "That's about the size of it."

  "And you told Rima, er, Winter? That's why she was so quiet."

  "I just got word myself and broke it to her as gently as I could. We're still hoping—bacta can do miracles if there's even the remotest spark of life—but things do not look good." Wedge sighed. "Of course, that's the least of our worries right now."

  "Oh?"

  Wedge nodded. "Zsinj's attack is driving the invasion schedule forward. We have a new mission and you're here to help plan it out."

  "I'll do my best, sir."

  "Let's hope we can all do our best, and then some." Wedge slowly exhaled. "We've got to come up with a plan that will let us, with a minimal amount of lead time, take over or destroy whatever we need to bring down Coruscant's shields and leave the world open to invasion.

  30

  Corran followed Wedge from the small room into the hallway and farther along to an even larger room. The first people he saw there were the Bothan Asyr and the Devaronian he'd helped to escape from the ware­house. They were already seated at the large round table in the middle of the room. As he came around Wedge he saw Fliry Vorru looking very Imperial and Zekka Thyne looked pale and in a bit of discomfort.

  Looks like not everyone escaped unharmed.

  "Corran!"

  "Iella!" Arching his back, he picked her up in a hug and hung on tight. "I can't believe you're here."

  "Gil did this to me. The identities he set up were on Coruscant." Iella pulled back away from him, but kept his hands in hers. "I can't believe it's you."

  If seeing Thyne hurt had made Corran feel good, see­ing Iella made him feel . . . almost whole. I've spent too long with nothing and no one from my past aside from Whistler. It was as if that world didn't exist. He smiled. "Where's Diric?"

  Iella's smile froze for a second, then she glanced down. "I don't know."

  "I'm sorry. What happened?"

  "A year ago or so he was picked up in an Imp sweep and never came home. I bolted, made some Alliance con­tacts, and joined the Rebellion. There's been no word and after this amount of time ..."

  Corran nodded and hugged her again. Diric Wessiri had been an interesting man. Old family wealth allowed him to lead a life of leisure. He viewed life as a collection of phenomena to be studied and experienced, but he was not one to let those experiences change him. He was eas­ily twenty years Iella's senior, but they fit together like ox­ygen and hydrogen. Diric didn't always agree with things CorSec did, but he made an attempt to understand what had been done, and that quest for enlightenment had im­pressed Corran.

  This is not the time to tell Iella that Gil is dead and that Loor killed him. There will be opportunities later, I'm sure. "Diric was special, but so are you. It's great to see you again despite everything else."

  "I agree." Iella squeezed his hands gently. "And Mirax asked to be remembered to you."

  A smile blossomed on Corran's face. "She's here? How?"

  "The Skate brought the rest of the squadron here and couldn't get away." Iella frowned. "I would have thought the others had told you how they got here."

  "We were a bit busy when we ran into each other."

  "No kidding. Mirax has threatened to give you speeder bike lessons. First rule, she says, is stay away from buildings."

  Corran laughed aloud. "Yeah. We'll have to discuss that more."

  Thyne snarled. "How long is this chummy crap going to go on?"

  "Patches, someday when you have a friend you'll learn this is what you do when you haven't seen each other for a while." Corran released Iella and she moved off to take a seat next to Winter.

  "Well said, Lieutenant Horn." Vorru folded his hands

  together on the table. "However, time is of the essence, I gather. Shall we get things under way? Commander?"

  Corran took a seat beside Wedge, placing Winter on his r
ight hand. Iella sat next to her, then the two aliens and finally Vorru and Thyne. Corran noticed that Thyne held his right hand and forearm protectively over his stomach. Gut-shot. Painful. Good.

  Wedge stood. "I want to keep this as simple as pos­sible. Since the warehouse incident we have all come to agree that working together to oppose the Empire is pref­erential to each going our own ways. Each of our groups has strengths and weaknesses, most of which overlap to minimize our exposure to the enemy. We can all agree that we will fare better on Coruscant once the Empire is overthrown and accomplishing that end is a goal of the Rebellion.

  "Originally Rogue Squadron was sent here to recon Coruscant and gauge the vulnerable points for later ex­ploitation. The problem is that Warlord Zsinj is testing both the Empire and the Rebellion. The Imperials know that to attack him is to weaken themselves to the point where they cannot prevail. The Alliance knows that to pursue Zsinj would dilute our strength so that a strike at Coruscant won't be possible for years, perhaps even decades. This means the Alliance will have to strike in the very near future and they want us to open the gates to Coruscant."

  Fliry Vorru tapped a fingertip against the tabletop. "Bringing down a planet's shields is not an easy proposi­tion."

  "Agreed." Wedge leaned forward on his hands. "The central computer complex here is the key. Is it fair to as­sume Black Sun's slicers have not been able to insert code into the master programs that control the planet?"

  The white-haired man sat back in his chair. "I believe the discussion of that point is premature."

  "Oh?"

  "Quite so, Commander." Vorru nodded toward the representatives of the Alien Combine. "Their stake in this

  is quite clear. The Imperial regime is decidedly cruel and inhumane in dealing with them. The liberation of this planet would benefit them enormously. And you Rebels, well, you would be achieving a goal you've been focused upon for at least seven years. I mean, Winter dear, it is ev­ery Alderaanian's dream to replace your lost world with Coruscant, is it not?"

  Winter's eyes glittered coldly. "The Alliance's goal is to see the death of the evil that destroyed our world. Alderaan cannot be replaced and certainly not with this transparisteel and duracrete mausoleum for an Empire."

  Wedge folded his arms. "Your point, Vorru?"

  "My point, Commander, is that the Alliance is not likely to be any more favorable to Black Sun than the Em­pire was. Less, in fact, I suspect. I want to know what is in this plan to reward me and my people for their coop­eration."

  Corran snarled. "Why don't you start with your lib­eration from Kessel?"

  Vorru smiled delicately. "You would gladly see me back there, would you not, Lieutenant? If your plan suc­ceeds you might find yourself appointed Minister of Secu­rity. If the cursing about you and your family done by Thyne here is any measure of Horn efficacy, I think I prefer having Ysanne Isard opposing me. What I would like, Commander Antilles, is some guarantee of clemency for those of my people who work to help you overthrow Isard."

  "And if that is not possible?"

  "Relocation to a world of my choosing, a world that will be made part of your Alliance with me at its head."

  "A world you will turn into a haven for crime?" Iella looked disgusted.

  Corran shook his head. "He's smarter than that. He'll solicit bribes from worlds so he doesn't end up there. He'll be rich enough to buy a star system or two."

  Vorru opened his hands. "I seek a world where I can live out my days in peace and you think poorly of me. I

  find it hard to believe you hold the rehabilitative qualities of Kessel in such contempt."

  "Enough." Wedge held a hand out to forestall Corran's reply to Vorru's unctuous comment. "I'll give you my personal guarantee you and your people will not be held responsible for crimes committed while you are acting in concert with us. That doesn't mean a sociopath like Thyne here is free to slaughter innocents. We're only going to hit legitimate military targets. The streets start running with blood and I'll burn your people down my­self. I think this is the best offer you're going to get."

  "It's acceptable. For now." Vorru nodded. "And, no, our slicers have not been able to get into the main com­puter."

  Thyne shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "We should just blow it up. Everything will stop and the shields will come down."

  "No they won't." Winter frowned. "Damage to the main computer system will transfer control to satellite fa­cilities. While they are not as well guarded as the main fa­cility, they will not be easy to take over. There is also a possibility that crucial systems, such as shield control, could get shunted to another satellite center if there is trouble with one. In other words, to get the shields down that way we'd have to guarantee a strike at all of the sat­ellites as well as the main center, and we don't know for certain where all of those subsidiary centers are."

  Vorru smiled. "I can furnish you with those locations, but your reservations about so explosive a plan are justi­fied. It strikes me that something more subtle would be preferential."

  Asyr laid a hand gently over one of Vorru's. "I don't understand why it is so difficult to slice code into the main computer. There are billions of transactions and messages that go through the system on an hourly basis. Something ought to be able to get through, shouldn't it?"

  Wedge shrugged. "Seems like it, but I guess not. Win­ter?"

  She tucked a strand of white hair back behind her

  ear. "The Imperial computers operate through a very re­strictive language that has a hierarchical command and access structure. Programs that go in to be effective across the system have to be authorized at the highest security levels. These levels are ultra-secure. Programs are scanned for content and that content is compared to their access levels. If a system program comes in without an access code that is cleared for entering system programs, it's dumped."

  Corran frowned. "If you were able to wrap a pro­gram up in the right disguise, it would get through, right?"

  "Presumably, but we don't have the right codes. Those codes are changed by the hour and old memory cores are swapped out daily and destroyed within a week—though after a day's worth of use they're pretty well ready to be junked anyway. Each night clean new memory cores are placed in the computers and trillions of exabytes of transactions are transferred to the new cores. This happens throughout the system."

  Asyr nodded. "The production facility for the Palar memory cores is on the Invisec border. Nasty work mak­ing the things. All sorts of noxious chemicals go on the data retention surfaces, then a lot of energy gets used in formatting the cores. We lose people every day in that plant."

  Wedge folded his arms. "If they're getting new cores daily, how does the transfer of data occur? I mean, if an old core is replaced with a new core, how does the data from the old core get onto the new core?"

  "They have two banks of cores and the data is trans­ferred from one to the other. The process doesn't take that long." Winter smiled. "The Imperial Senate's com­puter system used the same security system, but on a much smaller scale. Half a standard hour is all it should take to complete the operation."

  Corran sat back. "What happens to the transactions that occur while the transfers are taking place?"

  "They get caught on a subsidiary memory bank and

  queued up to be sent into the main banks when the ap­propriate cores are free. Then those cores send the data over into the new banks."

  "Okay, Winter, now what sort of program governs the transfer of data between the banks?"

  She looked at Corran oddly. "Pretty basic stuff, uni­versal to every system really. It goes into cores when they're formatted. What are you getting at?"

  "Data goes from the first bank to the second, right?"

  "Yes."

  "And it goes fast because, presumably, it was checked as it came in and anything bad was discarded, right?"

  "Yes."

  "So if something on one of the subsidiary cores was shot over into the security co
re during the transfer, it wouldn't be checked by the second bank, right?"

  Winter began to smile. "And altering the transfer code on one of the subsidiary disks so it would send a Rebel program over when the secure transfer was taking place, instead of blocking that transfer the way it's sup­posed to, wouldn't be that hard ..."

  "Because," said Asyr, "we have access to the plant where the cores are manufactured and we can alter the code used to format the memory cores."

  "Right." Corran beamed. "We send over a program that causes us to be given clearance codes and addresses for the shield maintenance programs and we can bring the shields down at will."

  Vorru bowed his head in Corran's direction. "CorSec's gain was Black Sun's loss. You have a devious mind—it is a pity you decided to use it to hunt us."

  Corran winked at him. "That's the trick of it—I can't stand the thought of a criminal who's dumber than I am profiting by his crimes. Neither could my father, which explains why we shortened Patches's career."

  "If your father was that smart, he'd still be alive."

  Corran refused to be goaded. "This operation is a lit­tle bit more important than punching holes in your fan­tasy life, but the time will come."

  Thyne started to get up, but Wedge pushed him back into his chair. "Stay down."

  "Make me."

  Vorru's right hand struck fast and slapped Thyne on the belly. The younger man howled, then, as he doubled over, Vorru grabbed him by his neck and slammed his forehead into the table. Thyne, glassy-eyed, rebounded and Vorru flung him from his chair. "For some people discipline is a lesson. For others it is a lifetime."

  A shiver ran down Corran's spine. He goes from gra­cious to vicious in less time than it takes for darkness to come in when a light goes out. And Thyne is out like a light. He exchanged a knowing glance with Iella and saw her shake her head.

  Wedge looked at the man on the floor, then shrugged. "We have enough, I think, to begin some planning. Win­ter, if you can have your slicers begin the programs we'll need, that will be a big help. Asyr, we'll need the basic se­curity setup at the Palar plant, plus the routines and any computer security information you can get us." He looked at Vorru. "And you ..."