Authors: Michael A. Stackpole
Tags: #Star Wars, #X Wing, #Rogue Squadron series, #6.5-13 ABY
“She has to pay.” Gavin hammered a fist down onto the
arm of his chair. “Iceheart and Erisi and all of them have to pay.”
“And pay they will.” The edge sliding into Wedge’s voice brought Corran’s head up. “Ysanne Isard has forgotten the lesson she taught the Rebellion by giving us a sick Coruscant. She’s forgotten that our strength is our freedom and her weakness is her link to the sources of production for bacta. We can go anywhere and be anywhere, but she’s limited. She is limited in how much she can cover, so we can hit her where she’s open and run when she has our targets protected.”
Inyri Forge raised a hand. “But we ran this time, and she hit an innocent world. How do we prevent that from happening again?”
“Two ways. First, with Booster’s help, we’ll deal the bacta we capture to traders and let them sell it. The price is high enough for them to accept the risks. We can have them undercut Isard’s prices or we cut them off from future shipments. In return we can get the arms, munitions, and spare parts we need to continue doing what we’re doing. We’ll insulate places by allowing them to deny knowing where the bacta came from and we’ll make traders very happy with us. The traders become a cutout for us and Isard can’t complain too loudly about them because if she does, she loses access to the supplies she needs to maintain her forces.
“Second and more important, we have a score to settle with her. Thyferra has dozens of small bacta-producing colonies out there. We’re going to pick one and destroy it. The mission will be dirty and dangerous. What bacta we can’t haul away we’ll destroy. And we’ll let her know that we’ll continue to hit her colonies every time she takes her war to an innocent party.”
He brought his hands together. “There are analogies that can be drawn between Halanit and Alderaan, and I wish neither incident had happened. What’s important to remember is that both worlds died because evil has been allowed to run unchecked. In our pleasure at defeating the Empire, it’s all too easy to ignore the nasty bits and pieces of its evil that survived. The New Republic is out hunting down Warlord Zsinj. I’m sure, out there, somewhere, there are still people
who will yet come forward to overthrow what we’ve done and try to reestablish the Empire. This war is really far from over, but if we don’t realize that and act accordingly, there will be more Alderaans, more Halanits.
“All of us
have
tried to keep this idea uppermost in our minds, but we saw a diminished Isard as a diminished threat. I know I was doing that, not consciously, but I still was doing it. No more.” Wedge’s hands folded down into fists and crashed against each other. “Isard is killing innocents, extorting money, enslaving the Vratix, and holding prisoners we want freed. Each and every single thing we do from this point forward is going to be part of the plan to bring her down.”
“However.” Wedge’s voice took on a huskiness. “This war isn’t going to be over fast. After this strike at a bacta colony, we’ll be moving into a protracted conflict where we’ll be more pirate than we are army. It will be exhausting but, as long as she doesn’t get her hands on an Interdictor Cruiser, we’ll be able to stay ahead of her and wear her down. We’ll frustrate her and make her impatient. Then we’ll have her.”
Corran found himself smiling. Wedge was correct in that without an Interdictor Cruiser to prevent the X-wings from running and hiding in hyperspace, Iceheart’s navy would be ineffective against them.
We’re okay unless someone jumps in on top of a ship the way the
Corrupter
did. Barring that, we can fly in, shoot off a bunch of proton torpedoes, take out some freighters, and flee before Iceheart can stop us. As long as we don’t run out of torpedoes, we should be fine
.
Wedge’s head came up. “Tycho and I are working with Bror Jace on compiling a list of viable targets for our punitive strike. When we have a selection made we’ll convene another meeting and begin planning of the operation. Until then, your time is your own, but stay here on the station. We’ll go when we have a plan in place, and I’m hoping that will be sooner than later. Thanks. You’re all dismissed.”
Corran sat back for a moment, then let Mirax tug him to his feet. “Lots to think about.”
She nodded in agreement and slipped her left arm over his shoulders. “I don’t know about you, but I want a drink and something to eat. Do you want to hit a tapcaf?”
“Sure. How about the Hype?”
“Food’s better at Flarestar.”
“Actually the service is better at Flarestar, but I prefer the decor at Hyperspace.” Flarestar tended to be rather dark and quiet, while Hyperspace was as brilliantly lit as its namesake. “The mood I’m drifting into isn’t one I want to aid and abet with dim light.”
Mirax gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Lead the way.”
They walked to the station’s core and took the turbolift up to the first of the docking ring’s decks. Hyperspace’s well-lit opening beckoned to them from opposite the lift. The decor consisted mostly of pinks, yellows, and white jumbled together in an odd, asymmetrical manner that Corran found somehow comforting. He’d decided it was that the color selection was repulsive, but the strange angles and mixing prevented any of it from being overwhelming. The Trandoshan who ran the place seemed to have a quasi-mystical respect for shape and form, often seating people in the tapcaf in a way that accentuated the establishment’s visual chaos.
They followed the large sauroid to a corner booth big enough for the entire squadron. Corran considered it wishful thinking on her part. The booth was far enough away from the other patrons that he felt he could talk with Mirax without surrendering privacy, so the Trandoshan’s choice suited him perfectly. A motley silver-and-gold 3PO droid came over to take their order, then bounced off to fill it.
Corran picked at a chipped area of the duraplast table’s edge with his thumbnail. “Wedge made some good points in there. I think he’s right that all of us had really stopped thinking about the seriousness of what we were doing. Face it, since Blackmoon, aside from me, the squadron had really lost no one. I showed back up and that helped reinforce our feeling that we were invincible. Tycho joined us, then Bror reappears, and we’re suddenly reinforced by some of the best pilots the Rebellion ever had.”
“The unit
has
felt more relaxed.” Mirax shrugged. “I think that’s only partly because of the successes you’ve had. You
are
good, but I think you’ve all underestimated your opposition. Sure, Isard had to run, and she’s trapped herself
on Thyferra; but she’s still tough. Captain Convarion is very aggressive.
Avarice
’s Captain Sair Yonka is very smart and calculating—the antithesis of us Corellians because he does care what the odds are and does everything he can to maximize his chances of survival. He’s spent much of his career on ships in the Outer Rim chasing down pirates and protecting convoys, so he understands very well what Isard has him doing.
“The
Virulence
’s Joak Drysso is a stalwart Imperial. I think he’s working with Isard as much to strike back at the Rebellion as he is for any other reason. I was talking with my father, and it’s his guess that Drysso will move over to take command of the
Lusanka
—assuming, of course, Isard was in command of it to this point. Drysso’s Executive Officer is Captain Lakwii Varrscha, so she’ll be moved up in his place. I had to outrun her when she was commanding a Customs corvette. Tactics weren’t innovative—standard Imp, utterly by the book—but tactics for an Imperial Star Destroyer have never really been subtle anyway.”
Corran nodded as the serving droid put tumblers of Corellian whisky in front of them, then accompanied it with a steaming, tentacled mass of noodles and thin-sliced vegetables drenched in a green sauce. “Thanks, I think.” He glanced at Mirax as the droid retreated. “Is this what we ordered?”
“I think so.” She stabbed a fork into it, twirled it and lifted a dripping noodle coil to her mouth. She chewed for a moment, then swallowed. “Unrecognizable, but not inedible.”
“Your enthusiasm is underwhelming.” Corran poked around the food with his fork, speared something crunchy and popped it into his mouth. The sauce seemed a bit hot, but it was flavorful and cleared his sinuses, so he decided against complaining. “Not bad. I also think you’re right on in pointing out that we have been underestimating Isard and her people. Part of it is because Erisi joined them—I think we have a vested interest in seeing her in a negative light. That could easily be a fatal mistake. We need our edge back, and I think Wedge is going to beat that idea into our brains from this point forward.”
Corran looked up as Ooryl entered the tapcaf and waved him over. The Gand hesitated for a moment, looked back out into the concourse, then nodded. As he made his way through the jumble of tables, Corran saw three other Gands trailing in his wake, like mynock splitlings drafting off their parent. Only one of them equaled Ooryl’s size—the other two probably massed as much as Ooryl but wore most of it around their middles.
I wonder how that works with an exoskeleton?
Ooryl stopped at the edge of the table. “Greetings Corran and Mirax. It is Qrygg’s honor to present to you three Gands from Qrygg’s homeworld of Gand. They are Ussar Vlee, Syron Aalun, and Vviir Wiamdi.”
The larger of the three bowed his head. “I speak for all three of us when I say we are most pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Though the Gand’s speech had the guttural tones and clicks of Ooryl’s normal voice, Corran found himself having a hard time comprehending what was said. He knew he should have understood it easily—it was only a greeting—but the use of personal pronouns surprised him.
Ooryl explained long ago that Gands considered it the height of presumption to use personal pronouns to refer to themselves, because it arrogantly assumes the listeners know who the speaker is. Only after having done something so memorable that such an assumption can be made can a Gand refer to himself as “I.
”
Mirax covered for Corran. “We’re very pleased to meet you as well. Ooryl is a good friend, so we are honored to meet his friends.”
Ooryl quivered for a second. “Qrygg is sorry for your misinterpretation because Qrygg knows it is Qrygg’s fault, Mirax. These Gands are not Qrygg’s friends. They are
ruetsavii.
” Ooryl’s mouth parts closed for a moment, then snapped back open. “In Basic they would be something like observers or examiners, but more than either.”
Corran raised an eyebrow. “They’re your superiors?”
The taller Gand—Vviir Wiamdi by order of introduction—exaggerated the shaking of his head. “We have been sent by the Elders of Gand to watch Ooryl Qrygg. We are to
chronicle Qrygg’s existence and to criticize it. It is a great honor.”
Ooryl doesn’t seem to think it’s that great an honor by the look of him
. Corran smiled. “If there is any way I may be of assistance to you, please do not hesitate to let me know what I can do. Ooryl and I have spent much time together, and he’s saved my life more times than I care to remember.”
All three Gands nodded their heads sagely, but Corran was uncertain he was reading their body language correctly.
I’m not sure I can read them at all, and I doubt I’m going to get a good explanation from Ooryl
. Corran looked over at Mirax, but she didn’t seem to be any more confident of her judgment of the Gands than he was.
One more thing to learn about, which is why this galaxy will never be dull
.
Corran pointed to the open area in the booth. “Would you care to join us?”
Ooryl shook his head. “Now it is time for Qrygg to interface with Zraii and tend to Qrygg’s X-wing. After that, the schedule allows for dining.”
Vviir bowed his head again. “I beg your forgiveness for this interruption. We will watch you interact with Qrygg at a later date.” He turned and led the procession back out of the tapcaf with Ooryl drawn along in the trio’s wake like an X-wing tractored to a freighter.
Mirax raised an eyebrow. “What was all that about?”
“Not a clue.”
“And Ooryl’s not going to tell you anything, either.” She pointed in their direction with her fork. “I’ve never heard of, let alone seen, a group of Gands wandering around together. Very odd.”
Corran shrugged and attacked his food. “Twi’leks have joined us, and now we have some Gands with us. I don’t understand it, nor do I
need
to understand it. I just hope Iceheart gets as confused by it as I am.”
21
Under other circumstances Wedge Antilles thought he might have liked Qretu 5. The ring of asteroids surrounding the planet that provided his people with cover against ground-based early-warning systems had looked wonderful in the night sky in all the holograms he had studied. The world’s moist and warm climate encouraged the growth of lush green foliage, over the tops of which Wedge’s X-wing whisked at dizzying speed. Mountains upthrust by colliding tectonic plates also hid the fighters from their target, providing the personnel at the Q5A7 Bacta Refinement Plant no warning about the impending attack.
Wedge’s force was flying in at a strength of twenty-four—two squadrons’ worth of snubfighters. The three losses to the
Corrupter
had been replaced by the Gand
ruetsavii
and their curious ships. The Gands flew heavily modified TIE bombers. The Quadanium solar panels at the front had been cut on the diagonal bias like those of TIE Interceptors and had a central cutout to provide the pilot with peripheral vision. The bomb delivery system in the secondary hull had been scrapped in favor of a concussion missile launching system with a six-missile magazine, then a hyperdrive motivator
and shield generators had been added. Two lasers completed their weapons array. While the Gand bombers were still slow, the shields were strong; and Wedge found the ships preferable to Y-wings for the long-range raid they were making.
He had not intended to have the Gands come along on the mission, but Ooryl had insisted they would anyway since they were
ruetsavii
—and what exactly that meant Wedge was as yet uncertain. In the preliminary and simulator runs they made on the mission, the Gands had proved very competent and skillful, though Wedge thought Ooryl could outfly all of them.