Star Wars: X-Wing II: Wedge's Gamble Page 13

  “I thought you would.” Rima returned his smile. “Nothing on this mission two Rogues can’t handle, even if,” she added with a shrug, “getting in to Coruscant is likely the easiest part of the whole thing.”

  16

  Gavin Darklighter said nothing as the Pulsar Skate reverted to normal space. His silence did not result from previously warbled warnings by Liat Tsayv, nor was it born of the need for operational security that General Cracken’s people had drilled into him. And it was not the result of his having his eyes closed so he couldn’t see anything.

  He could see.

  What he saw was Coruscant, and that vision took his breath away.

  Mirax turned in her seat. “Impressive, eh, kid?”

  Gavin knew he’d not seen as much of the galaxy as some folks—all of Rogue Squadron included, and the crew of the Skate as well—but he didn’t think of himself as a total nullwit or nerf-herder. He wasn’t one of the Sand People, for example, and he knew plenty about sophisticated things, like flying an X-wing or slicing code in a computer. He might have grown up on a farm outside Anchorhead, but he’d been to town at least once a month, and his family was always invited over to the big house by his uncle for family celebrations.

  He’d even been to Mos Eisley. Once.

  But he’d never seen anything like Coruscant.

  “It’s just a city, the whole thing, one big, huge, really big city.” Gavin spread his arms wide for emphasis, but hit hull before he thought he’d gotten the gesture right. “It’s all city.”

  “Pole to pole, horizon to horizon, more or less.” Mirax smiled. “There are spots on the glacier where things haven’t been built over, but the only reason that’s true is because the poles are frozen reservoirs. If you drink water down there, it was pole-frozen or shipped in from outside.”

  A light came to life on the console. The Sullustan pilot chittered at Mirax, causing her to turn around and hit three buttons. “Merisee Hope here.”

  “Coruscant Space Traffic Coordination on link here. Our files show you’re transporting exotics? Our scan shows you have eight individuals on board.”

  “Affirmative. Three humans, five exotics.”

  “I copy. You are cleared on vector 34293AFX.”

  Liat gave Mirax a nod, so she spoke into the comm unit again. “We copy. Thank you, Coordinator.”

  Gavin saw her shut the comm unit off, then raised an eyebrow. “That seemed too easy.”

  “Suspicion is a good thing, just so long as you don’t go overboard with it.”

  “Sounds like something Corran might say.”

  Mirax glanced back at Gavin, but he couldn’t read the expression on her face. “He might say such a thing, indeed. And he’d be thinking our entry was too easy, too. The trick of it is that certain members of Coruscant’s Space Traffic Coordination office have been bought and paid for. When the entry-monitor satellites beamed an inquiry to the Skate they got a transponder message that told them we were the Merisee Hope. That ship is a known slave-runner for one of the brothels on the edge of Invisec.”

  “Invisec?”

  Mirax frowned. “I thought they briefed you before this run.”

  “Well, yes, they did, but I don’t remember Invisec being mentioned before.” Gavin shrugged helplessly. “What is it?”

  “A chunk of the Imperial City that is popularly known as the Invisible Sector, primarily because most people don’t want to admit it exists. It’s large enough to swallow up three or four of the largest metropolitan areas from elsewhere in the galaxy, but here it’s just one precinct out of many. Invisec is a contraction of the name and is used by folks who frequent it to refer to the area.”

  “You mean the Alien Protection Zone.”

  “Right, sure, if you want the Impspeak designation, but only the military uses that. Citizens don’t talk about it, or call it ‘there,’ or refer to it as invisible or unseen, or the witty ones confess slumming down there by saying they disappeared for a while. Invisec is largely made up of the APZ, but it extends around it and has little satellite sectors elsewhere in the city. Think of it like Mos Eisley, but uglier, nastier, and less hospitable.”

  Worse than Mos Eisley? Gavin blinked. “Is that possible?”

  “That’s the thing about evil, Gavin, it doesn’t diminish when you spread it over a larger area. It’s rumored Vader built a palace near Invisec because, for him, it was as attractive as a seashore sunset is to most folks. The black market thrives down there. Aliens who have work permits can leave Invisec and work in other locations. Those who don’t are forced into working at the factories that have been built on the edges of Invisec.”

  Looking past Mirax and out through the cockpit viewscreen Gavin saw the dark city below rise up toward the ship. It seemed as if towers lunged to impale the Skate but the Sullustan pilot deftly steered the ship around them. Down and down the ship glided, flitting between towers and around through canyons, pushing lower and lower through layers of light and shadow until they reached a point where Liat had to turn on the ship’s running lights or be left without a means for orienting the ship.

  The Sullustan slowed the ship and brought it down below the overhanging edge of a building. Dark fungi and white lime stained the walls. Gavin couldn’t identify the stone used to construct the building, but it seemed to be ancient and covered with odd, twisty runes like nothing he’d ever seen before. “What does the writing say?”

  Mirax laughed. “That’s not writing, Gavin, those are the trails of granite slugs. Hawk-bats tend not to get down this deep.”

  “Granite slugs and hawk-bats?”

  “Hawk-bats look good riding the thermals—just as long as you don’t suck one into an engine. They prey on granite slugs and get the occasional borrat. Borrats get as big as two meters long.”

  “Sounds like womp rats from back home.”

  “Sure, except these things have tusks, spines, armored flesh, and claws that can dig through ferrocrete. The only good thing about them is that they tend to be solitary.” Mirax flipped some switches overhead. “And there are all sorts of extraterrestrial beasties that someone brought to Coruscant and let loose. Most are benign, but …”

  Gavin shivered. And why was it I agreed to this duty?

  The Skate slowly began an ascent, which Gavin thought would bump them against the bottom floor of the building above, but he discovered they were rising through an open hatchway in the overhang. “This is convenient.”

  “A lot of transport of goods goes on at the lower levels in the city—it keeps traffic lighter up above. This building used to be outside Invisec, but as the construction droids slice a piece off one side of Invisec, the un-homed push out and take over new areas of the city. It’s a slow migration and Invisec generally gains two kilometers for every one it loses.”

  The Pulsar Skate drifted forward and put down its landing gear. It came to rest in the large, dark basement of the building, squeezed in between trash middens, hydro-reclamation processors, and the heart of the building’s heating and cooling facilities. Liat killed the repulsorlift drives but left the external lights on, providing the only strong illumination in the facility.

  Mirax unstrapped herself from the command chair and punched a button. Gavin heard a whooshing hiss followed by the sound of servomotors lowering the access hatch. It touched down with a metallic thump. “C’mon, kid, let’s see what they have set up for you.”

  Gavin unfastened his restraining belts and followed her down the ramp and out into the building. The musty air filled his nose and dried it out. It reminded Gavin of how the air smelled just before a Tatooine dust storm hit with its full fury. He found the scent familiar enough to be reassuring.

  Mirax preceded him down the ramp and crossed over to one of the trash middens. Dropping to one knee, she waved him over. “Grab this end of the crate and pull.”

  Gavin grabbed one of the handles on the duraplast box and slid it from beneath the trash. Mirax got the handle on the other end of the two-m
eter-long case and between them they lugged the heavy rectangular box over to a spot beneath one of the Skate’s lights. The rest of the Rogues descended the ramp and joined them.

  Nawara Ven’s black cape pooled around him as he knelt at the lockpad on the box. He studied it for a moment, then looked up at Mirax. “This looks to be what we were told to find here. It should have gear and identification cards in it. Should you be here when we open it?”

  She shrugged. “You’re probably right, I shouldn’t be, but I’ve got two standard hours before the clearances for my exit identity become live.”

  Gavin frowned at Nawara. “We can trust her, you know.”

  The Twi’lek held a hand up. “I do not doubt her honesty, Gavin—but the less she knows, the better for her. In the same way, our not knowing the particulars of her escape vector and identity means we cannot reveal it if we run into complications.”

  Mirax patted Gavin on the shoulder. “Not to worry, Gavin. I’ve got navigational calculations to do. May the Force be with you all.” She retreated up the ramp, then it ascended after her.

  Nawara punched a combination into the lockpad. The lock clicked and the Twi’lek slid the cover off. The gear inside had been packed into numbered boxes that Nawara pulled from the case and handed to the appropriate individuals. Gavin accepted box one and wandered away from the others to open it.

  Inside he found a folded change of clothes, a small satchel in which they could be carried, a hundred credits in various forms, a small hold-out blaster, and a packet filled with identification cards. He tore the packet open and poured its contents into his hand. He had a drawcard in his alias so he could pull money from a transaction account as needed, a basic medical record card containing a medical history that would allow doctors to treat him without knowing who he really was, and his new identification card.

  His cover identity was that of Vin Leiger, a young man from a Rimworld who had gotten into trouble. He’d hooked up with a Shistavanen—conveniently played by Riv Shiel—and had left home. The two of them had scraped by on a number of worlds by using Vin’s apparent innocence to trick locals into trying to take him for all he was worth. Shiel—who would go by the name Shaalir Resh—would rob the con men targeting Vin, then they would move on.

  A chill ran down Gavin’s spine as he ran through all the details of his new identity. Vin Leiger, he realized, had a more complete history than he did himself. It struck Gavin that it was utterly absurd for him to be trying to pass as an outlaw from another world. It was even more absurd for him to be a member of an elite Rebel squadron on a spy mission to the Imperial homeworld. How can I be here?

  He remembered standing on the edge of the pit where his family lived, looking out at the wastes of Tatooine, wondering if Luke Skywalker had ever stood where he stood and had seen what he’d seen. It was quite a contrast to the scene below where his mother and siblings cleared away the debris from his sixteenth birthday celebration. Security, warmth, love, all existed down in the hole, while everything outside it was hostile, inhospitable, and unforgiving.

  His father had come up and had stood there with him. “You’ve got the Darklighter look on your face, and at your age, too.” His father sighed. “I knew this day would come, just not this soon.”

  Gavin had looked down at his father. “What do you mean?”

  “Us Darklighters have a point in our lives when we look outside ourselves. We look outside our lives. Some of us, like my father, never do it until the end, and then they regret all the things they didn’t do. Your uncle Huff looked outside once upon a time and chose to ignore what he saw. That’s why he’s become a food magnate here. By building up his little empire here he’s too busy to see what’s out there.”

  Gavin could once again feel his father’s rough hand on the back of his neck. “Your cousin, Biggs, had the look at your age. He was determined to go to the Academy and become a hero with his name written big in the stars. He succeeded, better than he ever imagined, I suspect, though I’d have settled for a bit less success and a bit more life for him. And now you, Gavin, my eldest, you have the look.”

  “There’s something out there for me, Father.” Gavin had shrugged. “Maybe I’m dreaming, but it feels like my destiny is out there.”

  “There’s only one way for you to find out.”

  His father’s reply had surprised him. “Do you mean you would let me go off and join the Rebellion?”

  The elder Darklighter sighed heavily. “I couldn’t stop you any more than Huff could stop Biggs, but Huff tried. When he saw he couldn’t win, he secured Biggs an appointment to the Academy—that way he was in control of his son’s fate. Biggs went, of course, because that’s what he had to do, but he resented his father’s meddling. There was a rift there, and that eats at Huff every day of his life.

  “Well, I’m not going to stand in your way. You’re welcome back here whenever you want to come, and no matter what you do, or don’t do, or run from, you’ll always be welcome here. You’re a Darklighter. Going out there is what you must do, so go with my fondest wishes that the Force will keep you safe and whole.”

  Gavin had smiled and continued to stare out into the distance. “I feel as if the whole universe is opening up to me, and that all I have to do is step forward and I can make a difference. The feeling is powerful and exhilarating. Is that how you felt when you looked, Father?”

  “I never looked until now, Gavin. I was always too afraid, and what I see now is a lot of pain and hurt.” He smiled up at his son. “And regret I won’t be out there with you. Whatever you do, remember who you are, what you are. A Darklighter’s destiny is waiting for you out there. This Rebellion, it’s been without a Darklighter for too long. It’s time that problem was solved.”

  So now I’m with the Rebellion, on a dangerous mission to find the weaknesses of a fortress planet. Whose vision was more accurate, Father, mine of destiny, or yours of pain and regret? He shook his head. At least back there with you I have a safe haven. This mission is part of seeing to it that everyone has a safe haven and the freedom to discover their own destiny. I think you’d probably tell me that with a Darklighter involved, we’ll succeed. I hope you’re right.

  Shiel’s hand landed heavily on Gavin’s shoulder. “Time to move, Gavin.”

  “I don’t know any Gavin, Shaalir.” Gavin stuffed his clothes into his satchel, tucked the blaster into his belt, and pocketed the identification cards and money. “The name’s Vin Leiger and I’m here to find out what makes this world spin, and then find a way to make it stop.”

  17

  Wedge Antilles realized that the mission he and Pash Cracken had been given was the most difficult of all to complete. He suspected the other members of Rogue Squadron had been assigned tasks like mapping out power grids or locating shield generation stations. Pinpointing those locations would be vital if any invasion was to succeed, but that data would be useless unless he and Pash succeeded and came away with a positive report.

  They had been charged with the duty of assessing the loyalty of the populace on the planet. Iella Wessiri had been able to provide them with her impressions of the general mood of the world’s population, but she freely acknowledged she was more pessimistic than another might be. “Paranoia has a way of coloring your thoughts about the world.”

  Wedge smiled as they moved out of the Galactic Museum’s Sith artifact room. “Paranoia may be an effect of the things in that room. Ghastly stuff …”

  “But seductively powerful.” Iella glanced down wistfully. “Not as crude as a cubic meter of credits, but those things appeal to something even more base than greed.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Because of his mission parameters Wedge had decided touring the various Imperial facilities open to the public should form the basis of their survey, and in the week since his arrival they had covered a lot of ground. He had expected the Empire to put its best face forward and display things that would denigrate and demean the Rebellion, and he’d not been disapp
ointed. By learning what it was the Empire wanted its citizens to believe about the Rebellion, he could then assess whether or not the Imperial propaganda efforts were successful.

  The museum had proved very instructive in this regard. The bottom two floors provided extensive displays of the flora, fauna, and mineral treasures from throughout the Empire. Several displays did provide notations that this plant or that animal had been made extinct on their native worlds by “outlaws and malcontents,” and included among such beasts were Ewoks—and Imperial taxidermists had taken great pains to make them seem helpless and even more cute than they were in real life. However, despite such propagandistic comments, the displays were impressive and reminded Wedge there was much more to the Empire than he’d consciously acknowledged before.

  The first two floors were clearly designed to impress and overwhelm visitors with their magnificence, so the next four floors had been put together to capitalize on the favorable impressions made below. Those floors covered the cultural and social developments of the Empire. One whole floor had been given over to the Emperor and his life. Holograms of people who had known him served as tour guides at each display while droids admonished the people to keep moving on. All the displays, from items shown to the descriptions that accompanied them, were slanted toward making the viewers believe everything the Emperor had done had been for their specific good.

  The final tableau presented on that floor made this point abundantly clear. It showed the Emperor lying in state upon a bier in a dark room. He looked far younger and more handsome than Luke had described him, as if the moral rot and evil in him had never been able to ooze out and reveal itself. The Emperor appeared just to be sleeping, ready to rise up if the Empire needed him again.

  A holographic image of Darth Vader sizzled to life when Wedge had approached. “Behold my Master and weep. He has been stolen from us by those who embrace hatred. The Emperor learned that the Rebels had stolen plans for an Imperial Planetary Ore Extractor and intended to use the one they were fabricating at Endor on inhabited planets. He assembled his fleet, and heedless of personal danger, he had me take him to Endor. He infiltrated the half-completed extractor, offering these Rebels his forgiveness and a hand in friendship. They rejected him and attacked his fleet. My Master had no alternative but to destroy this Death Star himself, perishing in the process so his citizens could live on. I was slain with him, but my death did not distress me, for it came in service to my Master.”