by Timothy Zahn
"Yeah," Han said, grimacing. "I always like standing on the high groundyou make such a good target up there. Come on, LeiaI can't just sit around and do nothing."
Pressed against him, he felt her body stiffen a little. "Well, actually... the Falcon does need a little work," she said carefully. "We lost the starboard power converters and ion flux stabilizer on the way into the system."
"That's okay, I've got spares for both," Han said. "Any idea what happened to them?"
He could almost feel her wince. "They ran into a lightsaber."
He twisted his neck to look down at the top of her head. "Oh," he said. "Really."
"It was for a good cause," she hastened to add. "Really it was."
Han smiled, stroking her hair. "I believe you, sweetheart," he assured her. "Okay, I'll get right on it. You're docked over on the other side, right?"
"Yes." Leia drew partway away from him. "One other thing. There's a passenger aboard, who we're also sort of keeping out of local politics for the moment. Elegos A'kla, a Trustant of the Caamasi Remnant."
Han lifted his eyebrows, then shook his head. "I can't leave you for a minute, can I?" he said. "I take off from Pakrik Minor on a simple little trip; and the next thing you know you're consorting with high-level Caamasi."
Leia smiled up at him. But the smile had a disturbing brittleness to it. "You don't know the half of it," she said, reaching up to stroke his cheek.
"So tell me."
Reluctantly, Leia shook her head. "We don't have time right now. Maybe after Gavrisom and I get back from the Predominance, I can tell you the whole story."
"Okay," Han said. "Sure. I'll just get to work on the Falcon, then, okay?"
"Okay." Leia hugged him again and gave him a quick kiss. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah," Han said, frowning. Something had just occurred to him "Leia?"
She paused at the door. "Yes?"
"You said a minute ago that history would judge Carib's activities today," he reminded her. "Why today?"
"I did say that, didn't I?" Leia murmured, her eyes focused on nothing. "I don't know."
Han felt something cold creeping up his back. "One of those Jedi things?"
Leia took a careful breath. "It could be," she said quietly. "It could very well be."
For a few heartbeats they gazed at each other in silence. "Okay," Han said, forcing a casual nonchalance into his voice. "Whatever. I'll see you later, right?"
"Yes," Leia murmured, still looking troubled. "Later."
She turned and left the room. For a moment Han stayed where he was, running the implications of what had just happened through his mind. There were a whole bunch of them, all of them as muddy as swamp water, none of them anything he really much liked.
But there was one thing clear here, as clear as the fact that his wife was a Jedi. One way or another, this looked like it was going to be one very busy day.
Scooping up the Caamas Document datacard, he stuffed it securely into a pocket. And if this was going to be a busy day, he added sternly to himself, there was no way he was going to be left out of it. No way at all.
Heading out into the corridor, he turned toward the docking bay where the Falcon was moored. Whatever the speed record was for replacing an ion flux stabilizer, he was going to break it.
* * * The Errant Venture's briefing room was comfortably crowded by the time Wedge and Corran arrived. Bel Iblis was standing behind the holo table, his eyes flicking to each ship captain or squadron commander as they arrived, measuring him or her with that single glance. To everyone else, Wedge supposed, he probably looked perfectly calm.
With his and Rogue Squadron's longer history with the man, though, Wedge knew better.
Predictably, Booster Terrik was the last to arrive. Ignoring the few remaining seats, he took up a standing position alongside the first row directly in front of Bel Iblis and crossed his arms expectantly.
"This will be the final briefing before we arrive at our destination," Bel Iblis began without preamble. "Our target, for any of you who haven't already guessed, is the Imperial Ubiqtorate base at Yaga Minor."
From the ripple of surprise that ran around the room, Wedge decided, a whole lot of them had not, in fact, guessed correctly. "Before you start counting our ships and matching them against Yaga's defenses," Bel Iblis went on, "let me reassure you just a bit. We're not trying to take out the base, or even soften it up particularly. In fact, aside from the Errant Venture itself, the rest of you will be mostly staying on the outside as a diversion."
He pressed a key, and an image of the Ubiqtorate base appeared over the holo table. "The Errant Venture will drop out of hyperspace, alone, at this point." A flashing blue light appeared just beyond the ring of outer defenses. "We'll be transmitting a distress signal indicating that we're running from a large New Republic attack forcethat's youand need shelter. With luckand assuming the false ID fools themwe'll be allowed to penetrate the outer defenses at this point."
Booster snorted loudly enough for the whole room to hear. "You must be joking," he rumbled. "An Imperial Star Destroyer, running from a motley collection of scrap like this? They'll never believe that."
"Why not?" Bel Iblis asked mildly.
"Why not?" Booster waved an all-encompassing hand around the room. "Just look at us. You've got us running full weapons and defenses, a practically full crew complement, spit and polish that hasn't been seen since Palpatine was a prip. Who's going to believe we're in serious trouble?"
Bel Iblis cleared his throat. "I gather you haven't taken a look at the outer hull recently."
Booster's arm froze in the middle of another wave. "What?" he demanded, his voice low and deadly.
"You're absolutely right about our needing to look the part of a ship in distress." Bel Iblis nodded. "I believe you'll find we do."
For a painfully long moment the two men stared at each other, the expression on Booster's face reminding Wedge of an approaching thunderstorm. "You're going to pay for this, Bel Iblis," Booster said at last in a low voice. "You, personally, are going to pay for this."
"We'll add it to the ledger," Bel Iblis promised. "Don't worry, we'll put everything back together afterward."
"You'd better," Booster threatened. "Everything fixed. And a new coat of paint, too." He considered. "Something besides Star Destroyer White."
Bel Iblis smiled faintly. "I'll see what I can do."
He looked around the room again, then keyed his control. On the holo display, the blue light passed the outer ring; and as it did so, a group of yellow lights appeared farther out. "At that same time, the rest of you will drop in and form up into an attack line," he continued. "You will not seriously engage the defense perimeter, but merely prod at it enough to keep their attention turned outward. You'll also be firing a full barrage of proton torpedoes, with an eye toward getting some of them through the ring into the base itself."
The blue light came to a halt beside a slender spar sticking out from the main base. "The Errant Venture will meanwhile come to a halt here, where we'll launch an assault boat against the computer access extension and attempt to get a slicer team inside. If the Force is with us, we may be able to locate and download a copy of the Caamas Document."
"And then how do you get out again?" one of the other ship's captains asked. "I presume you're not assuming they won't notice you at some point."
Bel Iblis shrugged slightly. "We are an Imperial Star Destroyer," he reminded him. "I think we'll be able to rancor-roll our way out without too much trouble."
Wedge looked at Corran, saw the set to the other's mouth. No, Bel Iblis was dead wrong on that one. Casual confidence or not, Star Destroyer or not, once the Imperials tumbled to what was going on the old general was going to be in for the fight of his life.
Or else...
Wedge looked back at Bel Iblis, a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. Or else he knew perfectly well there was no way he would ever get out. Knew that all he could hope for was to fin
d a copy of the Caamas Document in time and transmit it out to the rest of the fleet.
Knew that Yaga Minor was, in fact, where he was going to die.
And if he knew it...
Wedge focused on Booster, standing with his arms crossed again. Booster's ship, going to its destruction.
With Booster still aboard? Probably. Almost certainly.
Beside him, he heard Corran's sigh. "He's not going all noble and self-sacrificing on us, Wedge," the other murmured. "He's thinking about Mirax and Valin."
"Sure," Wedge murmured back. Booster's daughterCorran's wifeand Booster's six-year-old grandson. Yes, of course it made sense. The big, noisy, self-centered old pirate Booster Terrik cared deeply about his family, whether he would admit it or not.
And if it cost him his life to try to prevent his grandson from growing up in the middle of a civil war...
"I guess we'll just have to make it Rogue Squadron's business to make sure they get out again," Corran went on.
Wedge nodded. "You got it," he promised.
"What about fighters?" A-wing Commander C'taunmar asked from the other side of the room. "You'll want my squadron for screening, I presume?"
Bel Iblis shook his head. "No. If we had some Imperial fightersTIEs or PreybirdsI'd definitely bring them along. But this whole operation depends on dragging out the bluff as long as possible; and a screen of A-wings or X-wings would wreck that bluff rather quickly. No, all fighters will be staying with the outer attack group."
His eyes found Wedge. "Including Rogue Squadron."
He held Wedge's eyes just long enough to make it clear there would be no argument, then looked around the room again. "Your individual assignments and positions in the battle array will be given you on the way out of the briefing. Are there any further general questions?"
"Yes, sir," someone said. "You said you had a false ID set up for the Errant Venture. Is it a real name, or something fictitious?"
"Oh, it has to be real," Bel Iblis said. "Twenty years ago there were enough Star Destroyers that an individual Imperial could never keep track of all of them, and might assume that his database just happened to be missing something. But not anymore.
"Fortunately, Intelligence has picked up on three ships that haven't been heard from for several weeks. Presumably they're off on some special assignment; regardless, the chances are slim that any of them will turn up at Yaga Minor. We'll therefore be running under the name and ID of the Imperial Star Destroyer Tyrannic" he gestured to Booster"under the command of Captain Nalgol."
Five minutes later, Wedge and Corran were heading back toward the hangar bay where the rest of Rogue Squadron waited. "It's going to be some trick to protect them from outside the perimeter," Wedge commented grimly.
"I know," Corran said, his voice sounding oddly distant. "We'll just have to be creative."
Wedge frowned at him. "Trouble?"
Corran shook his head slowly. "The Tyrannic," he said. "There's something that bothers me about Bel Iblis using that name. But I don't know what."
A Jedi hunch? "Well, you better figure it out fast," Wedge warned. "Launch point is only an hour away."
"I know." Corran took a deep breath. "I'll try."
CHAPTER
36
"Navett, wake up!"
Navett came awake in an instant, his hand closing automatically on the blaster hidden beneath his pillow. His eyes snapped open, taking in the scene with a single glance Klif standing in the bedroom doorway, a blaster in his hand and a furious expression on his face, barely visible in the dim light of Drev'starn dawn streaming through the window. "What?" he snapped.
"Someone's been in the shop," Klif snarled. "Throw on some clothes and come on."
Someone had been in the shop, all right. Navett walked through the store in a stunned daze, crunching datacards and bits of random equipment underfoot, staring in disbelief at the carnage that had been visited on their neat little pet emporium.
"I don't believe this," Klif muttered, for about the fifth time. "I do not believe this. How in space did she get in without tripping the alarms?"
"I don't know," Navett said, glancing over one of the rows of cages. "At least she didn't take the mawkrens."
"Near as I can tell, she didn't actually take anything," Klif growled, looking around. "Just quietly took everything apart and rearranged it."
Navett nodded. Yet for all her energy and enthusiasm, it looked as if she'd missed the real prize. The section of back wall beside the power coupling box, where he and Klif had installed their hidden storage compartment, seemed to be untouched. "Well, aside from making a mess, she hasn't really done anything," he said, circling around the sales counter. The computer was on; she must have gone in and poked through their files. A waste of her time there, too.
"Navett."
He looked up. Klif was standing at the prompous cage, gazing down on the shelf beside it. "What?" Navett asked, rounding the counter again and joining him.
Lying on the shelf, laid out in neat rows, were the tiny cylinders that had been hidden in the false bottom of the mawkren cage.
And sitting next to them was another binary-linked comlink.
"You going to talk to her?" Klif prompted.
"And do what?" Navett retorted. "Listen to her gloat some more?"
"Maybe you can get her to tell you what she's going to do next." Klif gestured at the cylinders. "One of them is missing."
Navett swallowed a curse. Picking up the comlink, he thumbed it on. "You've been a busy little girl, haven't you?" he ground out.
"Why, good morning," the old woman's voice came back. Didn't she ever sleep? "You're up early."
"You're up late," Navett countered. "And you ought to take better care of yourself. Unaccustomed exercise could be fatal in someone your age."
"Oh, pish," she scoffed. "A little exercise keeps the old heart running smoothly."
"Until you run it up against a sharp object," Navett reminded her darkly. "There are laws on Bothawui against vandalism, you know."
"Only if you know who to deliver the warrant against," she said airily. "And you don't, do you?"
Navett ground his teeth together. She was right; all their efforts to backcheck her ship ID had come up completely dry. "Then I guess we'll just have to deal with you ourselves," he said.
There was a clucking sound. "I suggested that last night. I do wish you'd make up your minds. Did you fetch your Xerrol Nightstinger, by the way?"
Navett smiled tightly. He'd fetched it, all right. It was sitting right there across the room in their hidden storage compartment, ready to go. "What exactly did you think you would find in here, anyway?"
"Oh, you never know," she said. "I've always liked animals, you know. What are all those little cylinders for?"
"You're the expert on everything. You figure it out."
"My, but you're crabby first thing in the morning," she chided. "Not even a hint?"
"I'll trade you," Navett offered. "Why don't you tell me what you're planning next."
"Me?" she asked, all wide-eyed innocence. "Why, nothing. From this point on it's up to the Bothans."
Navett shot a look at Klif. "Of course it is," he said. "Come on, nowyou can't call Security in on this, and we both know it. It's just you and us."
"You go ahead and believe that," she said encouragingly. "Well, I'm a little tired, and you've got company coming. Talk to you later."
The transmission shut off with a click. "Good-bye to you, too," Navett muttered, turning off the comlink and setting it down on the shelf. Pulling his knife, he deliberately drove it through the device.
"What did she mean about company?" Klif asked suspiciously as Navett brushed the pieces of the comlink into the waste collector. "You don't suppose she has called Security, do you?"
"Not a chance," Navett said. "Come on, we've got to get this place straightened up before opening time"
He broke off as, across the shop, there was a knock at the door. Frowning, he cros
sed the room, returning knife and blaster to their hiding places in his tunic. Unlocking the door, he pulled it open.
To find himself face-to-face with a group of four Bothans wearing the wide green-and-yellow shoulder sashes of local police. "Proprietor Navett of the Exoticalia Pet Emporium?" the one in front asked.
"Yes," Navett confirmed. "Shop hours are"
"I'm Investigator Proy'skyn of the Drev'starn Department of Criminal Discouragement," the Bothan interrupted briskly, holding up a shimmering ID. "We received word that you had had a break-in."
His eyes flicked over Navett's shoulder. "Obviously, the report was accurate. May we come in?"
"Of course," Navett said, stepping back to let them enter, trying to keep his suddenly murderous thoughts out of his voice. No, the old woman hadn't done anything so obvious as calling Security. Not her. "I was just about to call you, actually," he added as the Bothans fanned out across the shop. "We only just discovered it ourselves."
"You have a list of inventory and stock?" Proy'skyn called back over his shoulder.
"I'll get it for you," Klif volunteered, heading off toward the computer.
One of the Bothans had paused beside the prompous cage. "Proprietor?" he called. "What are these cylinders?" He reached down.
"Please, be careful with those," Navett said quickly, hurrying to his side, mind furiously casting about for something that would sound reasonable. "They're hormonal-drip capsules for our baby mawkrens."
"What sort of hormones are required?" the Bothan asked.
"Newborn mawkrens need a particular combination of solar spectrum, atmospheric conditions, and diet," Klif put in, picking up on Navett's cue and running with it as only Klif could do. "You can almost never get the right mixture off their own world, so you use a hormonal-drip."
"That's them over there," Navett added, pointing to the cage with the tiny lizards. "We fasten the cylinders onto their backs with custom-designed harnesses."