Star Wars - X-Wing 8 - Isard's Revenge Read online

  I hope this belly tank works better than the one I had on Borleias.

  Wedge's voice crackled through Corran's headset. "Good to have you with us, Captain Horn."

  "Sorry about that, General Antilles. I was recording a message for my wife and there was a bit of a line to use the equipment." Corran looked over at the mission chronometer on the command console. "We've still got two minutes to reversion. Besides, with General Salm's B-wings out there, we won't be needed at all."

  "Then they'll release us to hit ground targets." Wedge's voice carried with it a hint of amusement. "The B-wings are tough and will take a lot of damage, but they're still slower and less maneuverable than the eyeballs and squints we'll be facing. Salm may only leave crumbs behind, but they're our crumbs."

  "I copy, Rogue Leader." Corran switched his comm unit over to Three Flight's channel. "Okay, Rogues, we're under two minutes to reversion. All systems should be green. I don't know exactly what there will be out there for us to light up, but whatever it is, I want us shining really bright."

  Commander Vict Darron strode onto the Direption's bridge and was pleased with the fact that his crew kept hard at work. When I was Krennel's executive officer, if the crew didn't immediately fawn all over him when be appeared, he'd start working up insubordination charges for the lot of them. Darron knew any distraction for a crew on a warship was an invitation to disaster, and disasters are never good on a warship.

  Krennel had given him command of the Imperial Star Destroyer, Mark II, after its previous commander, a Captain Rensen, had been executed for failing to raze a village that had been home to someone who tried to assassinate Krennel. Darron immediately set about locating those crewmen who Krennel had cited for being insubordinate and asked for them to be assigned to his ship. He promised Krennel they would no longer be a problem, and Krennel gladly gave them up.

  But Krennel also demanded he raze the same village his predecessor had refused to destroy.

  Being well aware that Krennel's mechanical hand could crush his throat as easily as it had Rensen's, Darron had immediately agreed to carry out the mission. From the second he left Krennel's presence he sought for a way to preserve his life without engaging in the wholesale slaughter of villagers. His search took him back over old territory, for every Imperial officer in any position of authority had long since wrestled with his piece of responsibility for the destruction of Alderaan and the policies of the Empire.

  Many simply laid the blame on Grand Moff Tarkin and said, had they been in charge, they never would have used an inhabited planet as a target. That, of course, overlooked the fact that the Empire had created a weapon that could destroy planets, and then built another one after the first was destroyed. Clearly the Emperor intended to be vaping worlds, and any officer who didn't do something to stop that madness bore some guilt for it.

  Darron himself acknowledged that there were cruel and even evil policies carried out under the Emperor. Still, he saw the anarchy promulgated by the New Republic as even worse. His role in the galaxy was to preserve order and allow people to live in peace. He and the Direption's crew were the bulwark behind which those whom the New Republic's forces would devour could hide.

  When Krennel had made himself into a warlord, Darron had followed and brought his family with him. While Krennel's mental stability-or lack thereof-did bother him, Darron feared more a world in which his children would be forced to cohabit with aliens. Such things went against the natural order of life, and he couldn't consider himself true to his responsibilities as a father if he did not fight against such things.

  But wholesale murder did not make him comfortable, either, so he found a creative solution to the village problem. With the Direption in orbit above Liinade III, Darron took a shuttle down to the village and addressed the people there. He told them that because an assassin had arisen from their ranks, their village had to be destroyed. In exquisite detail he laid out how the village would be destroyed, grid coordinate by grid coordinate. He told them that when he returned to his ship, the assault would begin, and that it would not end until every building in the whole place had been slagged.

  Then he returned to his shuttle, but before it lifted off, he discussed his plans with his weapons-officers. He had them run full checks on their heavy turbolaser batteries, targeting arrays, and planetary survey data. He demanded that everything be perfect for his demonstration against these people, and when he was satisfied that all was ready, nearly three hours after he had spoken to the villagers, his shuttle returned to the Direption.

  The village was razed, but no one died in the attack. Darron filed a full report that Krennel had not liked, but Darron pointed out that the homeless refugees were taken into other communities on Liinade III and carried with them their tale of Krennel's swift retribution. The implication was that future rebellion would bring quick and probably direr attacks. Krennel reluctantly agreed to how the situation had been handled, but had warned Darron never to fail him again.

  At the front of the bridge, Darron looked out at the green-blue, cloud-streaked ball of Liinade III spinning below him. To me falls the duty of preventing the New Republic from taking this world. He sighed. Liinade III was clearly the most viable target for the New Republic. Darron had made a strong case for that point to Krennel, but the Prince-Admiral had refused to allot any more troops to its defense. At least he gave me full control of deployment. When they come, we'll be ready.

  A warning klaxon began to sound, and the blond- haired man spun around. "Lieutenant Harsis, report!"

  A small, slender, dark-skinned man looked up from the sensor station. "I have two contacts, Commander. They came out of hyperspace two klicks to our aft. Looks like an Imperial Star Destroyer and a Victory-class Destroyer. Broadcast codes make them New Republic. They're deploying fighters, X-wings, and B-wings."

  "Helm, roll us to port and bring us about. Flight Command, have our TIEs deploy while we're turning so they can't see them coming. Shields, I want full power now." Darron smiled. "The mongrels have arrived, people. They aren't welcome and we'd best let them know that."

  Admiral Areta Bell watched the holograph of the Direption roll and begin its turn from her Combat Command Center deep in the heart of the Swift Liberty. She stood there, arms folded across her chest; her booted feet firmly planted on the deck, and narrowed her blue eyes. "Helm, give me three-quarters full, heading zero-seven degrees, mark twenty. Roll me forty-five degrees to starboard.

  "As ordered, Admiral."

  "Guns, give me firing solutions for the starboard guns. Pick a point and have everything hit it." She raised her left hand to her mouth and gnawed on the flesh of her index finger for a moment. "Flight Control, get the Rogues out there. Tell them Direption is launching something while we're blind."

  "Relaying the order now, Admiral."

  Areta nodded slowly. Given her angle of attack, she'd exchange broadsides with Direption, which would hurt her ship badly. Still, the way Moonshadow would be coming in meant that the attention paid to Swift Liberty by Krennel's ship would leave it open to a devastating broadside from Moonshadow. And if Direption's Captain deals with Moonshadow, I get to hammer him. His turning to attack both of us makes no sense. He should be remaining at range and fighting a delaying action until he can get reinforcements here.

  "Sensors, be sharp. Someone else is coming in, or something is going to intervene. Watch for dirtside action, or something popping into our aft."

  "As ordered, Admiral. Scopes clear at the moment." "Sing out when they're not." She stared hard at the holograph of the unfolding battle. "The only surprises I want here are the ones we bring to the fight."

  Wedge jammed his throttle forward as the X-wing cleared the Victory-class Destroyer's belly. He rolled out to port, getting himself well away from Swift Liberty as the capital ship started to maneuver in toward Direption. Further starboard, driving in at a sharper angle but still level, Moonshadow disgorged its B-wings, which formed up and flew toward the Direption.
Already Wedge could see TIE starfighters and Interceptors coming up around the enemy Deuce's hull.

  Looks like they launched a whole wing. With seventy-two TIEs in the battle up against an equal number of B-wings, it looked like Corran's comment was accurate. Then again, just because B-wings have shields and TIEs don't, there's no guarantee our side will prevail.

  Wedge opened his comm channel. "Rogues, on me. Come up over the top of Swift Liberty and down on the squints. They'll be outdistancing the slower TIEs. We'll pounce, break them up, and then let Salm and the others pick up our crumbs."

  He rolled his X-wing up onto its right S-foil, and then pulled back on the stick. He pointed the nose up over the Swift Liberty's knife-edge, and then inverted as he came over the top. The X-wing flashed over the capital ship's white hull, and then rolled to starboard to bring the Direption into view.

  The Hegemony Impstar had already leveled out to match Moonshadow's profile. He'll accept what Bell's ship can do just to pound Moonshadow. Wedge shook his head. I don't understand those tactics, which is why I'm better in this cockpit than I will ever be on the bridge of a capital ship.

  Wedge nudged his stick around and, with the flick of a thumb, switched his weapons over to proton torpedo control. He centered the box on his heads-up display over the distant spark that was the lead Interceptor speeding toward the B-wings. The box started green, but quickly went yellow and, when Gate started piping in a constant tone, the box went red. Wedge pulled the trigger on his stick and launched a proton torpedo.

  His target immediately rolled and broke toward the planet. There wasn't much of a chance that he could outrun the torpedo, but Wedge knew what he was trying to do. If the Interceptor pilot could get the torpedo pointed at Liinade III, and then break sharply at the last second, the missile would slam into the planet's atmosphere and would be reduced to so much space junk.

  Three other squints broke off their run on the B-wings to follow their flight leader, which suggested to Wedge that the pilots were a lot more green than they should be. Switching his weapons back to lasers and quading them up; he dropped the aiming reticle over another squint's outline. When the crosshairs pulsed green, he tightened up on the trigger.

  The four laser bolts converged on the Interceptor's starboard wing, slicing down through it. Sparks exploded from the blaster cannons and the panel disintegrated. The squint flew on, slowly rolling over and over, functionally out of the fight.

  Asyr's X-wing flashed past Wedge's, so he dropped in behind and starboard of her fighter. She rolled onto her port S-foil as she dove at a climbing Interceptor. The two fighters twisted around, each one's energy weapons firing above and below the target. Then Asyr's X-wing snap rolled ninety degrees and clipped off a quad burst before she began to climb up and out of the way.

  Her four bolts hit. Two burst through the inside of the starboard wing, melting long gashes in it. The other two pierced the transparisteel bubble between the pilot and the vacuum of space. Something burned red and hot in the cockpit for a second, and then a roiling gold explosion ripped the dead craft apart.

  Wedge rolled out to the right to avoid the explosion and pulled the stick back to his chest. He brought his X-wing around, ready for another pass up through the Interceptor formation. Liinade III loomed above him for a moment, and then a trio of dagger like ships filled his vision of the sky. All three had moved into range and cut loose.

  Moonshadow's gunners concentrated their fire along Direption's port edge, seeking to destroy the other ship's weaponry. Heavy turbolasers, heavy turbolaser cannons, and ion beams all played out, splashing red and blue energy across the Direption's shields. The weapons' energy bled into the sphere of the shields, nibbling away at it, shrinking it like a balloon with a slow leak. Then suddenly the shields collapsed and beams played along the hull. Turbolaser batteries exploded and hull plates evaporated. Fire jetted into space as shots burned through the hull and consumed the atmosphere within.

  Direption's return salvo proved no less deadly to Moonshadow. The Hegemony's gunners concentrated their fire on several points, driving energy wedges deep into the shields. Breaches opened and beams ripped long, jagged scars over Moonshadow's surface. Sensor towers exploded and ion cannons melted beneath the withering assault.

  Swift Liberty had swung down and around beneath Direption on a sharply angled course that took the ship across the Hegemony ship's line of flight. When the gunners cut loose, half of them pounded on the pristine ventral shields, while the forward gunners hit bits of the ship left naked after Moonshadow's assault. The Victory-class Destroyer's weaponry was neither as extensive nor as powerful as that of the larger ships, but the turbolasers and double turbolaser batteries still ate away at the Hegemony Deuce. Liquefied weapons congealed into metal threads, and at least one secondary explosion blasted a small chunk of Direption into space.

  The joyful spike that sent Wedge's spirits soaring as he watched the damage inflicted on the enemy crashed back down as another ship materialized in the system. Smaller and blocky, it appeared slashing across Swift Liberty's aft. That's a Dreadnaught. It's not that powerful, but in that close, in Bell's aft, it can cripple her.

  Tycho's voice filled the comm channel. "Direption has a friend. Shall we introduce ourselves?"

  "Squints and eyeballs first, Rogues. The big ships play with the big ships." Wedge felt a knot tightening in his stomach. "When it comes to the point where they depend on us for a rescue, we're all in worse shape than we ever wanted to be."

  13

  Admiral Bell staggered for a second when the Dreadnaught's attack blasted into Swift Liberty's aft. "Did their attack breach the shields?"

  "Negative, Admiral." The Twi'lek sensor officer, Commander TaPkina, looked up from his sensor array. "We lost gravity for a second because I had to shunt power to reinforce them."

  "Well done, Commander." Bell flicked long locks of red hair back over her shoulder. "Helm, heading zero-four-five and level us out."

  The helmsman looked up, surprise on his face. "That will leave the Dreadnaught in our aft, Admiral."

  "Thought occurred to you, too, did it, Lieutenant Cyslo? We can weather another of their shots, and we want them watching us." She gave the man a quick nod. "Do it, now!"

  "As ordered, Admiral."

  "Good. And Guns pour more fire into the Direption. I want it hurt and hurt now."

  Wedge snap rolled his X-wing onto the port S-foils and followed Asyr through a quick split-S maneuver that let the squints that had been on their tails overshoot them. They leveled out again and broke to starboard, applying rudder to get their noses around, and then cruised in on the Hegemony fighters. Wedge chopped his throttle back a bit as he made his approach, but Asyr shot ahead and closed fast with her target.

  The Bothan pilot fired off a quad burst of lasers that converged on the squint's cockpit. The scarlet beams burned the top off the cockpit, instantly liquefying the Quadanium steel. It condensed into tiny round pellets that sparked off Asyr's forward shields, but that was as much of a threat as the Interceptor posed to her. Fire flared in the engines, and the ship started a slow spiral down toward Liinade III.

  Wedge settled in on his target and dropped his aiming reticle over it much too easily. Part of him wanted the pilot to juke and move the ship, to make the shot tough for him. He realized instantly that his desire did not come because he wanted to prove himself the superior. It's just that I'd rather not slaughter some kid on his first mission.

  Wedge immediately pushed that thought aside and tightened up on his trigger. The quad burst of laserfire drilled the Interceptor in its twin ion engines. The engine housing began to melt, warping out of shape, which compressed the reaction chamber. The engine exploded with a great gout of golden flame, jetting the Interceptor forward. The fire at the squint's aft winked out, snuffed by the vacuum of space, leaving the fighter to fly on powerlessly.

  Wedge felt a moment of remorse for the pilot's death-whether it had come with the engine explosion or woul
d come from exposure and suffocation as the squint's life-support systems failed. He didn't let himself dwell on the enemy's fate, though. The other pilot had accepted the same risks Wedge did when he entered a cockpit and flew into combat. Dead is dead, no matter how you go. Wedge's brown eyes narrowed. And the object of this exercise for me is to avoid getting dead at all.

  Wedge glanced at his sensor scopes, and aside from some fighters tied up in a dogfight with the B-wings, the Rogue Squadron area of operations appeared clear. "Rogue Lead to Flight Control. We are negative for targets. Do you want us on the Dreadnaught?"