Star Wars - X-Wing - Starfighters of Adumar

by Aaron Allston

  was in the furnishings and the people staring out from the screen.

  As he approached with Tycho, Wedge heard running feet approaching from

  behind. He turned to look, alert against some new attack, but it was Hallis

  who rounded the doorway and ran into the room; she skidded awkwardly to a

  halt, looked around, and then moved off to stand before a column from which

  she could record with the ordinary holocam she held in her hands.

  "So you've brought the alien general," the perator said. There was

  mockery to his tone. "Why bother? It doesn't take a famous pilot to pull the

  trigger on me. Any of you could do it as well."

  "That's not what we want to do." That was Tomer Darpen, standing among

  the captors present. "We'd really prefer"

  "I wasn't aware," Wedge said, "that you held a post with the united

  Adumari forces involved in this operation."

  Tomer blinked. "Well, that's not relevant. We have to"

  "Be quiet, Tomer. Or I'll authorize Colonel Celchu to shoot you." Wedge

  approached Cheriss. "What's the situation?"

  Her expression was an interesting study, a mix of exultation and guilt.

  "We hold the planning chambers and have compelled his senior officers to

  surrenderand to signal surrender to the flightknives."

  "That's done."

  "But the perator won't surrender."

  The perator, clad in spotless white as if to suggest he had never taken

  an action to mar his reputation, moved forward, ignoring the blasters aimed at

  him, until he stood before Wedge. "Not honorable," he explained. His voice was

  weary but calm. "Surrender requires cooperation. I would rather die than

  cooperate."

  "So we kill him," said one of the Halbegardian elites, but others turned

  to look at the flatscreens showing multiple images. It was evident to Wedge,

  from the way those shown in the flatscreens were intensely watching, that the

  images of the events taking place in this chamber were being broadcast to

  them.

  One of the figures in one of the smaller flatscreen squares, a gray-

  haired woman with broad shoulders and an authoritarian bearing, spoke; her

  voice emerged from the flatscreen speakers. "No. Pekaelic can only be

  condemned by a council of his peers, and that is not the problem before us

  now."

  Wedge leaned over to whisper in Cheriss's ear. "What happens if Pekaelic

  dies?"

  "He has not named a successor. The council of nobles of Cartann would

  choose his successor. Some of the nations held in Cartann's grip would

  probably take the opportunity to break away. There would be much confusion..."

  "I see." Wedge raised his voice. "Perato r, let's speak simply. No

  diplomatic nonsense. If you persist in this posture and get yourself killed,

  your enemies will celebrate, but Cartann and its holdings become disorganized

  for a while. Long enough for the Empire to see that you're not going to be

  joining them willingly. Long enough for the Empire to send a fleet large

  enough to blow the Allegiance out of space and then pound your whole planet

  flat. In a week, you'll all be slaves, or worse. And where's the honor in

  that?"

  "There is none," the perator said. "But I will still not surrender. I

  have never surrendered. It is not within me."

  Wedge sighed, exasperated. Then a new thought occurred to him. "Could you

  retire?"

  "What?"

  "Retire. Without shame. Not surrender, not bow to your enemies. Just...

  quit."

  "Abdicate." The perator considered. "I could honorably grant the throne

  to one of my sons. But my sons are pilots." His expression turned bleak.

  "After today, I don't even know if they are still alive."

  "I suggest you find out." Wedge took a step back to give the perator

  space.

  A minister was allowed to join the perator, then to go, with Halbegardian

  guards, to one of the palace's comm centers.

  "Royal heirs are always in danger," Cheriss told Wedge. "At least in

  Cartann. They are usually raised away from their true parents, under assumed

  names, to keep them safe."

  Wedge grimaced. "So they can't even be children to their living parents.

  Cheriss"

  "Don't say it. I can see that it is bad."

  He pulled out his comlink and activated it. "Red Leader to Eye Three.

  Update, please." He turned the volume down and held it between his ear and his

  cupped hand.

  "Except for a couple of minor skirmishes, the air battle is done," Iella

  said. "Cartann Blades are landing in fields all over the place under the

  lasers of the united force. But, more important, the Cutting Lens-class sensor

  ships showed one of the Star Destroyers, presumably Agonizer, leaving orbit.

  It left behind a small vehicle, which I'm tentatively identifying from a

  visual scan as a standard Imperial shuttle. It's descending toward Cartann

  City."

  Wedge felt a surge of triumph. "Have a couple of Blades escort it in, all

  the way to the palace. I'm pretty sure it's a friendly."

  "Will confirm and do so."

  "Thanks. Red Leader out."

  Minutes later, the minister returned and hurried to the perator's side.

  The words he whispered to his ruler were good ones; the perator sagged for a

  moment, in what was obviously relief, then straightened. He beckoned Wedge to

  him, ignoring all others in the chamber.

  "My sons survive," he said. "My oldest is being brought here now."

  "Congratulations," Wedge said.

  The perator gave him a close look. "Well done. I couldn't even detect the

  mockery."

  "I didn't offer you any, perator. I think you should be punished for what

  you've done... but I'd never wish on anyone a punishment as severe as the loss

  of his children."

  "Ah." Though he did not step back, the perator retreated, his thoughts

  and concerns suddenly light-years away.

  Minutes later, a quartet of Halbegardian elites marched into the chamber,

  a pilot in Cartann black between them. The pilot was a young man with an

  earnest expression and thick black hair.

  With a start, Wedge realized that he knew the young man. He was Balass ke

  Rassa, a pilot who'd flown against Wedge in simulated combat.

  Balass did not acknowledge Wedge or any of the others near the perator;

  he marched up to his father and halted military style before him.

  The perator looked upon him, searching his features. Wedge wondered how

  long it had been since he'd seen his sonmonths? Years?

  "You know why I've had you brought here," the perator said.

  Balass nodded.

  "Will you accept?"

  "If honor allows." Balass turned to one of his guards. "But I cannot in

  my present state. My pistol." He held out his hand and snapped his fingers,

  imperious.

  The guard looked around, confused, then his gaze fell on Wedge.

  Wedge nodded.

  The guard pulled a small Adumari blaster pistol from beneath his coat and

  handed it to Balass. But the prince was not done; after he bolstered the

  weapon, he said, "Blastsword."

  Wedge nodded again. But when the guard reached for the weapon at his

  side, Balass said, "And not one of your Halbegardian toys. A p
roper Cartann

  blastsword."

  Cheriss unbuckled the belt from her waist and put it around the prince.

  It barely fit, on the last notch, but he did not object. Cheriss stood back

  and away from him, her face solemn.

  Balass turned again to his father. "Now I will accept."

  The perator nodded. "I, Pekaelic ke Teldan, renounce my claim to the

  throne of Cartann and all titles pertaining thereto, in favor of my eldest

  son, Balass ke Teldan, known these last two-and-twenty years as Balass ke

  Rassa."

  His son waited a beat, then said, "I, Balass ke Teldan, accept these

  rights and duties, and, though the circumstances be rushed and ceremony

  entirely absent, proclaim myself perator of Cartann."

  There was no applause; there were no cheers to mark the sudden transfer

  of power from one set of shoulders to another.

  Escalion, from the flatscreen, said, "I congratulate you on your poise,

  Perator Balass. Now, can you do what your father could not? Can you end this

  conflict by honorable surrender?"

  Balass turned to the screen and shook his head. "No," he said. "We remain

  at war."

  Wedge heard startled exclamations from the people in the hall and from

  both flatscreens. The Halbegardian guards in the chamber trained their weapons

  on the new ruler. Balass seemed unaffected by all this; he just stared into

  Escalion's flatscreen, or rather to the point at the top of the screen where

  its flatcam was installed, and kept a slight smile, possibly a mocking one, on

  his face.

  "You understand," Escalion said, "you doom your nation to further

  punishment if you persist in this arrogance."

  "I was about to say the same thing to you," Balass said. "Only

  substituting 'our world' for 'your nation.' Now be quiet a bit while I talk.

  I'll try to make you understand."

  Balass paced, talking as he did so, turning from time to time so that he

  divided his attention between the dignitaries on the two flatscreens and those

  standing before him. "You lot seem to have concentrated so hard on the

  tactical situation before you that you have forgotten the strategic. Whether I

  surrender or not, the Empire knows Adumar will not be allying itself with them

  willingly. Indeed, I'm told that their giant ship has already left orbit...

  not a good sign for us.

  "If I surrender, the New Republic cannot bring in ships to aid us in the

  conflict yet to come. Well, they can eventually. But they can bring in no more

  ships except under flags of truce with us or flags of war against us. And we

  cannot offer flags of truce as a united world until all ramifications of

  Cartann's surrender are explored. Which of Cartann's protectorates will

  splinter away and declare independence? Which will cling to Cartann and

  transfer loyalty to the united Adumari force you represent? These questions

  will take time to resolve."

  Men and women, a few of them, were now nodding on the flatscreen that was

  broken into multiple images.

  Balass continued, "But if I do not surrenderif you, the united Adumari

  coalition, accept at this moment my offer of truce without repercussion for

  our recent battles then Cartann can join your union as an equal partner.

  Now, instantly, with terms to follow when we have time for negotiations. I can

  cast the votes of Cartann's protectorates, then free those nations when we

  have the luxury of time. Lords and ladies, if you abandon your grudge against

  Cartann, if you consider the old Cartann to have departed with my father's

  abdication and a new one to stand before you, we can forge a world union, in

  tentative form at least, in minutes. Or you can have your revenge and watch

  our world fall.

  "Now, it is time for you to decide." He turned to face the many-faceted

  flatscreen, his hands on his hips, his expression imperious.

  Wedge suppressed a whistle. If Balass pulled this off, he'd save his

  nation any number of troublesyears or decades of reparation payments, the

  perceived dishonor of wartime surrender, and much more. Wedge had seldom seen

  a leader take such a hurdle within seconds of accepting his position.

  The figures on the flatscreens began talking with one another, their

  voices not broadcast over the speakers. One by one, the images of distant

  courtrooms and planning chambers winked down to neutral gray.

  "We're going to do it," Tomer said. "He has them by the power cables.

  They have to accept. We're going to win."

  "Yes, we are." Wedge smiled at him. It was easy to do so. All he had to

  do was imagine the man's fate.

  "I was delighted when I heard that you and your pilots had survived the

  gauntlet, and then the rumors that you'd made it outside Cartann..."

  "I imagine you were."

  "And this raid!" Tomer gestured expansively. "More successful than you

  imagined, I'll bet."

  "No, it's right on the money so far. But give it time. I predict that it

  will get even better."

  Tomer's expression lost some of its glee, becoming more uncertain. "How

  so?"

  The two flatscreens flashed back into activity. As before, Escalion of

  Yedagon dominated one of them, and it was he who spoke. "Perator Balass, much

  as we think Cartann should shoulder the major share of loss for the brief war

  we have suffered, you are correct. Everyone's circumstances have changed, and

  no one has time for even the most honorable prosecution. We offer Cartann a

  seat, a full vote, a full voice in what we now call the Adumari Union."

  "I accept." Balass bowed to Escalion, then turned and bowed to the

  viewers on the other flatscreen. "Who will speak for us to the New Republic?"

  Escalion said, "I think we would accept none other than General Antilles.

  "

  Wedge cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I can't. Your elected speaker will

  be talking with me. I still have my duties as ambassador of the New Republic."

  "Then we will choose from among ourselves," Escalion said.

  As the perators and their advisors from around Adumar began a spirited

  and, Wedge hoped, brief-discussion, Wedge turned to Tomer. "Tycho?"

  Wedge drew his blaster, put its point up under Tomer's chin. Tycho drew

  in the same moment, putting his barrel to Tomer's left eye; the diplomat had

  to close his eye to keep it from being hurt.

  "What is this?" Tomer asked. His tone was calm, even unconcerned. Wedge

  was impressed with his poise.

  "It's time for you to call Allegiance and tell them to acknowledge and

  accept transmissions from all New Republic personnel and citizens on the

  ground," Wedge said.

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "And if you don't do it, we're going to hand you over to these

  Halbegardian guards. They'll conduct you back to Halbegardia or the Yedagon

  Confederacy. They'll put you on trial as a war criminal based on what I have

  to tell them about your interaction with Pekaelic. I doubt you can expect much

  mercy at their hands. On the other hand, comply and I'll turn you over to the

  New Republic for prosecution. Assuming neither Tycho nor I has a spasm and

  blows your head off."

  Tomer heaved a sigh. "I admit nothing," he said. But
he drew out a

  comlink. "Tomer Darpen to Allegiance, come in."

  There was no answer. Tomer shrugged, an "I told you so" expression.

  Wedge smiled at him. "Repeat after me. 'En-Are-Eye-One to Allegiance.

  Over.' "

  Tomer looked at him, expressionless, his one open eye flickering as if

  reading through a list of hints to find the one that would get him out of this

  situation. Finally he said, "En-Are-Eye-One to Allegiance. Over."

  "Allegiance to En-Are-Eye-One, we read you."

  Wedge just stared.

  "I rescind the order concerning communications from the ground. You are

  authorized to respond to transmissions from Adumar."

  "Rescind the comm blackout as well," Wedge said.

  Tomer sighed. "Likewise, I rescind Allegiance's hypercomm restrictions."

  He covered the microphone with his hand. "Is that all? Or should I have them

  send down a meal?"

  "That's all."

  Tomer removed his hand. "Acknowledge, please."

  The distant comm officer said, "Allegiance acknowledges. Captain Salaban

  would like to talk to you."

  Wedge took the comlink from Tomer's hand and gave it to Tycho. "Colonel

  Celchu, do me a favor and arrange for this prisoner to be transported to

  Allegiance. Inform the Allegiance of our situation and have Salaban stand by

  to communicate by hypercomm with the Fleet Command and General Cracken. Then

  give those two parties a quick report."

  "Will do. What are you up to?"

  "I'm going for a walk." Wedge gestured all around. "I'm sick of this

  place." He gave Tomer one last look. "You should have taken your chances with

  Adumari justice."

  Tomer just stared, impassive.

  On the palace steps, Wedge found Admiral Rogriss being escorted between

  two Halbegardian guards. Sniper fire from the near balconies was all but over.

  Wedge dismissed the guards and gave the older man a salute. "Admiral.

  Good to see you. How are you?"

  Rogriss gave him a slow shake of the head. "How can anyone be when his

  career has just been vaporized?"

  "Meaning that Agonizer has left system without sending its holocomm

  message."

  Rogriss nodded. "The holocomm is shut down and sealed tight. It can only

  be opened by my voice... or by the security codes of a superior officer. Which

  it won't reach for another three days or so."

  "Will that matter? I mean, Imperial Intelligence could have a team on-

  planet, with its own holocomm unit..."