Borsk nodded a brief salute to her. “You are
very
Bothan at the moment, Asyr. This is good. Your choices are clearly laid out for you.”
“You would have me break Gavin’s heart.” Asyr hesitated for a second. “You’ll let our people break mine for me.”
“Better one heart broken than the culture of a people lost forever.”
Asyr straightened up. “I will need time to think on this.”
“It is understandable.” Borsk Fey’lya smiled easily. “Rogue Squadron’s current mission should redouble your fame. At its conclusion your decision would be expected.”
She nodded once. “You’ll see how truly Bothan I am, Councilor Fey’lya. As power flows are warped and twisted, just remember it is
you
who made me remember, and made me live up to my heritage.”
12
Adjusting his blaster belt, Corran Horn sprinted across the
Swift Liberty
’s launch bay and leaped halfway up the ladder connected to his X-wing’s cockpit. The X-wing had been repainted the green, black, and white color scheme it had sported when he’d been with CorSec. The techs had even dutifully painted on his kill markers again and stenciled his name,
CAPTAIN CORRAN HORN
, on the side. He let his fingers brush over his rank, then he climbed into the cockpit and waved at the techs pulling the ladder away.
Whistler blatted harshly at him as he pulled on his helmet.
“Yes, Whistler, I heard the call, but I was finishing up a message to Mirax in case we don’t make it back. Of course, I figure she’ll miss you more than me.”
The droid warbled in a very self-satisfactory manner.
“Good to know we’re in agreement.” Corran strapped himself into his seat and hit the switch that lowered the canopy and locked it into position. He punched the ignition sequence into the command console. The engines caught on the first try, sending a gentle thrum through the fighter.
“Whistler, set my inertial compensator at point-nine-five gravities and load fleet, squadron, and Three Flight
comm channels into switches one through three respectively.” As the droid did that, Corran ran power from the engines into the weapons system. One by one the X-wing’s lasers all came online and began charging. The proton torpedo launcher’s computer reported the device was set to go, and the magazine was loaded with six torpedoes. The diagnostics screens showed that the X-wing sported an auxiliary belly tank with enough fuel to allow them to fight both in space and down in atmosphere for an extended period of time.
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 he 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, 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 more dire 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 blondhaired 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, then let Salm and the others pick up
our
crumbs.”
He rolled his X-wing up onto its right S-foil, then pulled back on the stick. He pointed the nose up over the
Swift Liberty
’s knife-edge, then inverted as he came over the top. The X-wing flashed over the capital ship’s white hull, 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, 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 snaprolled ninety degrees and clipped off a quad burst before she began to climb up and out of the way.