Star Wars - X-Wing 02 - Wedge's Gamble Page 6

  The proton torpedo lanced out and hit the lead eye­ball dead on. It pierced the starfighter's port wing, then exploded right in front of the cockpit. The central ball crumpled as the wing disintegrated. The bulk of the craft went tumbling off down Mrisst's gravity well.

  Corran switched back to lasers and sideslipped right. He snapped a quick shot off that dinged the other TIE's starboard wing, but failed to get enough of it to do signif-

  icant damage. The TIE broke hard to port, so Corran rolled the X-wing to the port, applied some rudder, and cut his speed back to remain on the TIE's tail.

  The eyeball rolled right, then climbed sharply. Corran started to climb, then the TIE came over to complete a loop. Corran snapped the X-wing over on its right S-foil, presented his port side to the TIE. The starfighter's first shots passed wide on either side of the snubfighter, but the eyeball started to roll to correct his aim.

  Corran hit hard left rudder, then rolled ninety degrees to starboard to face the eyeball head on and give him the worst targeting profile possible. With a flick of his thumb he brought the torpedo targeting program up and imme­diately got a tone from Whistler. Ignoring the hail of green laser bolts hammering his forward shield, Corran squeezed the trigger.

  The proton torpedo tore the TIE's starboard wing off, sending the starfighter into a flat spin. Whistler reported the ship's thrust had cut in half. Corran would have put that down to damage done to the starboard engine, but the spin began to slow. The pilot had clearly shut down the port engine so he could counter the spin. Re­starting the port engine would give the pilot maneuvering power, but an explosion on the port side of the fighter showed the restart had not worked as intended. Blue lightning played over the fighter, then it burst into a fire­ball that streaked in toward the system's sun.

  "Whistler, targets."

  The droid displayed an image of Contruum's Pride on the scope, but it wasn't going anywhere. Corran hit a few buttons on his console, shifting around to see if there were any more fighters available, but he found none. Whistler's negative bleat chastened him for doubting the droid.

  "Just checking."

  Whistle rebleated his comment.

  "Yes, perhaps I should know better." Corran keyed his comm unit. "Nine is clear, Twelve."

  "I copy, Nine. Come to a heading of 173 and orbit

  Vengeance at three klicks. Four has convinced Pride that it wants to help stabilize Vengeance so it doesn't do an at­mosphere dive. Mrisst Disaster Control is scrambling for recovery operations."

  "As ordered, Twelve." Corran smiled. "And, Cap­tain?"

  "Yes, Nine?"

  "Impressive flying out there. Welcome to Rogue Squadron. You're definitely one of us."

  "Thanks, Nine. It's nice to be home."

  7

  At the sound of her voice a jolt ran through Kirtan Loor. He whirled away from his workstation and dropped to one knee before the towering holographic projection of Ysanne Isard. "Madam Director, I am at your service."

  "That was my impression."

  The chilly tone in her voice warned him that her mood was not one in which she would tolerate mistakes. He couldn't think of any he had made, but he killed the stirrings of anger that being unjustly accused started in him. You have been accused of nothing. Her mood may not have anything to do with you or your service. "What would you have of me, Madam Director?"

  Some of the venom in her varicolored stare survived transmission from her office kilometers up and away from his work space in the bowels of the Imperial Palace. "I would have of you the best effort you can produce."

  "Always, my lady."

  "Your report on the incompetence of the Black Asp's flight coordinator in the Bror Jace matter was quite thor­ough. I wanted Jace alive so I could utilize him at Lusankya. Your report makes it quite clear that Major Wortin knew this, but took no steps to guard against a

  kill. And you were correct in pointing out that his insis­tence that the ship blew up by accident was nothing more than a sham."

  "Thank you."

  "I did not need your editorializing in the conclusion you drew. It is true that in the past Major Wortin would have been executed, but we cannot afford to squander our personnel with such abandon anymore. I have ap­proved your suggestion that he be transferred to the Inex­orable. Under Thrawn he will learn lessons he should already know, or he will die."

  "Yes, Madam Director."

  "I have received another request from General Derricote for subjects. This time he wants Quarren?"

  Loor brushed a hand back over his black widow's peak, then looked up at her. He had often been told he looked like a young Grand Moff Tarkin, but he was fairly certain Tarkin would never have let Isard intimidate him. Tarkin had real power, almost as much as Iceheart wields here on Imperial Center. I have only the little bits I have assembled. I must wait and accumulate more.

  "Yes, Madam Director, that is his request. General Derricote's cadre of scientists have made the initial break­through in their research on Gamorreans. The virus has an incubation period of a month and is fatal in seventy-five percent of the cases."

  "The incubation period is too long. It must be faster."

  "Yes, they know that."

  "How long are the subjects contagious?"

  Loor reached back and pulled his datapad from the desk. "Four days, during the final throes of the disease. Transmission occurs through bodily fluid and can survive in contaminated water supplies for almost a day. It can be frozen and survive indefinitely."

  Isard's expression hardened. "It cannot be made air­borne?"

  "The current theory is that the same genetics that would make it transmissible by air would greatly facilitate a spontaneous mutation allowing it to affect humans."

  "Unacceptable."

  "As I have told them, Madam Director." Loor glanced at his datapad again. "Derricote believes part of the incubation period problem is tied to the sluggishness of the Gamorrean metabolism. Quarren are not as good a platform to guarantee cross-species susceptibility, but their metabolic rate is higher than that of Gamorreans."

  "Very well, give him what he wants. Organize sweeps in the undercity for Quarren. There should be enough of them in the warrens to suit his needs." Isard rubbed at her eyes with slender fingers. "Collect extras—Derricote's estimates of what he will need are always conservative."

  "Yes, Madam Director."

  "And tell Derricote I want the incubation period cut to a week, and I expect that breakthrough in a month, no more."

  "I saw the reports of Zsinj's forces showing up near the core. Do you think he is coming here?"

  Ysanne Isard laughed aloud and Loor decided he'd heard more pleasant sounds during difficult interroga­tions. "Zsinj? Never while I am here. He knows I would pluck out his heart and fling it into the streets from the highest tower in the Palace. The only way he will come here is after someone has taken the world away from me, and he can slink in like the coward he is and take it away from them. No, his probes are to evaluate my defenses and the Rebellion's strength. He will compare them, then put himself into a position to become the victor after the Rebels and I exhaust ourselves in the fight for Imperial Center."

  Despite having only read it once, Kirtan Loor recalled very clearly the details contained in Zsinj's Imperial datafile. Everything there correlated well with the con­clusion that the man was an opportunist, though Loor hesitated at deciding such a label defined the man com­pletely. I would have done that before my association with Iceheart, but I have been made painfully aware that relying on conclusions I had drawn was the source of the difficulties in my life.

  "If it would please you, Madam Director, I can ar­range for efforts to discourage Warlord Zsinj's scouting missions."

  "No, absolutely not. The man may not be terribly brave, but he compensates for this by being venial and vengeful. Strike at him and he will feel compelled to strike back." Isard's expression grew distant as her voice trailed off. "No, we must concentrate on the Rebellion. Al
l must be ready for them when they decide to strike at Imperial Center."

  "As you wish, Madam Director."

  "You had better hope so, Agent Loor. If Derricote does not have his distraction for them available then, I shall have to take drastic steps to assure that anyone con­nected with his project does not fall into Rebel hands." She smiled coldly. "And if I were you, the implications thereof would frighten me to death."

  8

  Wedge dried the palms of his hands on his thighs as he watched Admiral Ackbar rise in response to Mon Mothma's invitation. "Thank you, Chief Councilor. My staff and I have spent a considerable amount of time since yesterday's session reviewing and analyzing all pertinent files concerning Coruscant. While we are still of the opin­ion that a blockade of the world is the preferable course of action from the military point of view, we are willing to concede that other factors may make this option un­available to us."

  Mon Mothma smiled with genuine pleasure. "I ap­preciate your efforts in this regard, my friend. Have you discovered another way to approach this problem?"

  "We have identified a number of them, Chief Coun­cilor."

  Borsk Fey'lya tapped a button on the datapad in front of him. "A more logical course would have been to identify the greatest problem preventing our conquest, would it not?"

  The Mon Calamari nodded solemnly in the Bothan's direction. "We have done this as well. Clearly the over-

  lapping planetary shields are the primary impediment to achieving our goal."

  The large black Wookiee seated to Princess Leia's right growled a question that Leia's gold 3PO unit trans­lated. "Oh, my, Councilor Kerrithrarr wishes to know if you have found a way to bring the shields down?"

  The Wookiee snarled and the gold droid's arms flapped for a second. "I conveyed the meaning of your message, Councilor, without using the colorful analogy you suggested. For clarity, sir."

  "I understand the question." Ackbar held a hand up to forestall further elaboration from the Wookiee. "In re­ply, perhaps an analogy is appropriate in that Coruscant can be likened to the first Death Star."

  Borsk Fey'lya barked a quick laugh. "You suggest we let Skywalker and Rogue Squadron fly in and destroy the planet with a well-placed proton torpedo?"

  "I am terribly sorry to disappoint my esteemed col­league from Bothawui, but I was thinking to the prior visit to the Death Star, when Obi-wan Kenobi succeeded in sabotaging the facility to allow the Millennium Falcon to escape." Ackbar pressed both of his hands against the tabletop. "The overriding problem we have in deciding how to approach Coruscant is determining exactly what is where. Huge construction droids are constantly grind­ing up old buildings and creating new ones. While we do have agents on the ground who are trying to supply us with as much data as possible, most of it comes from as­sets placed within the Imperial administration. While this has allowed us to react to things the Empire is doing off-planet, these resources are poorly positioned and trained to provide us with the sort of military data needed to en­able us to effectively plan for conquest."

  Doman Beruss looked over at Ackbar. "You want to send a team of military specialists to Coruscant as a pre­lude to moving on the world?"

  "It is a stormy sea, but this venture is the first stroke in calming it."

  Doman looked over toward Mon Mothma and be-

  yond to one of the Chief Councilor's advisers. "General Cracken, this sort of intelligence operation falls into your area of expertise. Are you prepared to handle it?"

  "Councilor Beruss, I have reviewed the general guide­lines for the operation and I approve of them. I am pre­pared to use the assets I have developed on Coruscant to aid Admiral Ackbar's effort. However, the general divi­sion of labor within the Alliance—a division caused by our limited resources—means most of my people lack a prime requisite for being able to carry out this opera­tion."

  The Bothan craned his neck around to look at Cracken. "That requisite being?"

  "None of my available people are fighter pilots." Cracken gestured in Wedge's direction. "Admiral Ackbar has suggested, and I agree, that Rogue Squadron is a nat­ural choice for the operation."

  "Rogue Squadron?" Borsk Fey'lya made no attempt to cover his surprise, and Wedge thought he might have been exaggerating it a bit for dramatic effect. "Here your analogy to the Death Star comes back to haunt you, Ackbar. Rogue Squadron may have worked miracles be­fore, but they could not possibly succeed in rendering Co­ruscant defenseless."

  "Rendering the planet defenseless is not the purpose of the mission, Councilor Fey'lya." Ackbar turned and pointed at Wedge. "In rebuilding the squadron care was taken to choose the best individuals possible—both in the area of their flying skills and for a host of other skills. Rogue Squadron is uniquely qualified for this mission."

  "Do you think this as well, General Cracken?"

  "I do, Councilor Fey'lya."

  "You would risk your son's life in this?"

  "That is a question that has been answered many times over."

  The Bothan's creamy fur rippled along his shoulders. He fixed Wedge with a violet stare. "You accept this mis­sion, Commander Antilles?"

  Wedge waited to answer until after he got a nod from

  Admiral Ackbar. "In principle, yes. The details are still being worked out."

  "Do you think you could be effective on the ground there?"

  Wedge thought for a moment before answering. "Given the parameters of the operation, yes."

  Leia casually raised a hand. "Perhaps you could ex­plain what you mean by that, Commander Antilles?"

  "Of course, Councilor Organa." Wedge gave her a smile in thanks for breaking up Fey'lya's interrogation. "Because of the virtually total urbanization of the planet, Coruscant presents some unique problems for an incom­ing force. As we saw at Hoth, the Imperials correctly took our shield generators down first, then worked on other targets of military importance. On Coruscant we need to be able to pinpoint power plants, communications cen­ters, and other sites that we can hit to disrupt Imperial command and control functions. We need to pull the shields down, then make them deaf and blind. If we give them no power to operate their defensive weapons, we further guarantee our success."

  Leia nodded thoughtfully. "You said you needed to pinpoint targets. In what way does your piloting skill en­hance your ability to do this?"

  Easy questions with important answers—hitting Co­ruscant should be this simple. "Councilor, it is one thing to identify the locations we need to hit, but hitting them is another thing entirely. As a pilot I can identify and evaluate the possible approaches to a target. I can also help determine how much in the way of firepower will be necessary to eliminate it.

  "I should also point out that we really do need to be running a precision operation because we have to take into account the possibility of Warlord Zsinj or some other Imperial leader trying to take Coruscant from us while we are trying to bring its defenses back up. For ex­ample, hitting a power conduit is preferable to hitting the reactor creating the power it carries because the conduit is much easier to replace."

  The Bothan smoothed the fur on his chin with his left hand. "Bribing a custodian to shut the power down would be much easier, wouldn't it?"

  "Yes, sir, but handling that sort of thing is outside my area of expertise."

  "I see." Borsk Fey'lya sat forward and clasped his hands together. "Despite my reservations about this mis­sion, I do agree with my Mon Calamari compatriot that the gathering of information is necessary if the conquest of Coruscant is to happen. I would also vouchsafe that any interim disruption of normal Imperial functions on Coruscant by Rogue Squadron, or General Cracken's peo­ple, would not be seen as a negative."

  Ackbar blinked once, slowly, then clasped his hands behind his back. "Disruption is not necessary, but it could be effective and even helpful."

  "I would think it could be very helpful, especially if it served as a distraction for Imperial authorities who might be working against Rogue Squadron." Fey'
lya opened his hand. "That seems reasonable, does it not?"

  Ackbar nodded. "Perhaps."

  Wedge sensed in the slow delivery of Ackbar's reply an extreme reluctance to grant the Bothan his point. Leia suggested Admiral Ackbar would have to compromise, and he has retreated from the blockade. It would seem Borsk Fey'lya wants him to concede more.

  "Good, for I have a little operation that I think will function very well as an adjunct to what you want to do."

  "And that is?"

  Fey'lya hit a button on his datapad and the holoplate in the middle of the table displayed a small, dirty red ovoid planet whose atmosphere escaped into space like smoke drifting from dying embers. A single large moon orbited it, plunging in and out of the wispy tendrils of at­mosphere trailing from the planet. Wedge didn't recognize the world until the Bothan sigils running down the edge of the image area resolved themselves into Basic letters

  and strung themselves together at the planet's southern pole.

  Kessel! Wedge shook his head. He knew that the Em­pire had maintained a penal colony there and used the prisoners as slave labor to harvest spice. One of Rogue Squadron's recruits—the first of the new members to be slain—had come from Kessel and still had family there who worked as educators. After the Emperor's death, the inmates had overthrown their masters and had taken con­trol of the planet. They administered the mines and the vast atmosphere factories that freed enough oxygen and other gases from the rocks to let people exist on the sur­face using nothing more elaborate than a rebreather. It was a brutal existence with very little in resources being available to the residents—that the world was considered viable was more a testament to the tenacity of the resi­dents than any measure of scientific analysis.