Read The Bacta War Online

Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

Tags: #Star Wars, #X Wing, #Rogue Squadron series, #6.5-13 ABY

The Bacta War (26 page)

Getting to see Booster and Mirax together compounded the problem. Corran was happy for Mirax that her father was around because the love they shared was obvious enough that a blind Givin frozen in carbonite could have seen it. She was lucky to have her father, and he was equally lucky to have her. As much as Corran wanted Mirax to be happy, what she shared with her father reminded him of what he had lost. I
thought the void inside me had been filled, but it had just scabbed over and is now plenty open
.

On top of that, the next step in the evolution of the Bacta War was pushing him to the limit. Wedge had teams, from full squadrons down to single two-ship flights out harassing the Bacta Cartel. The whole strategy was to hit and run, which worked exceedingly well. Because the Thyferrans scheduled their bacta shipments it was possible for the Rogues to show up, force the Star Destroyers to scramble their fighters, pop off some proton torpedoes to take out a few TIEs, then scatter. He knew the strategy had to be frustrating for Iceheart’s people, since they were taking losses here and there without killing any of the Rogues; but it wasn’t much better for Corran or the rest of Wedge’s people.

Engaging in a straight-up fight with even a
Victory-class
Star Destroyer like the
Corrupter
would be suicide for a squadron of X-wings. It was true that the large Star Destroyers were not particularly good at defending themselves against snubfighters—hence the development of the
Lancer-
class
frigates—but even accidentally shooting down one or two X-wings would hurt the Rogues significantly. Conversely, aside from repeated proton torpedo salvos, there was no way snubfighters could cripple or destroy a Star Destroyer. If the whole squadron fired a salvo of torpedoes at the same time, they could certainly bring the Star Destroyer’s shields down, but any captain worth his rank cylinders would roll the ship to present undamaged shields and keep shooting. If all his shields were stripped away he could still go to light-speed before another torpedo could hit.

Corran had no wish to commit suicide in an attack on a Star Destroyer, but cutting and running made him feel … 
criminal
. He knew that was stupid, but he figured the judgment was based in the fact that Wedge hadn’t given anyone a clear timetable concerning when they would move into the war’s final phase—the phase where Iceheart left Thyferra and the Bacta Cartel would be broken.
If I knew how long we were going to run, I could see it as a tactical advantage. Right now it seems as if we’re doing something so we won’t be doing
nothing.

Realizing he had no desire to be alone, he headed for the tapcaf known as Flarestar. He hoped other members of the squadron would be there, though the chances of that were slim. Ooryl seemed to spend most of his time with the
ruetsavii
. Nawara Ven and Rhysati as well as Gavin and Asyr Sei’lar spent most of their time being couples. Tycho and Wedge were either on missions or planning yet other missions. Bror Jace and Corran had never been close, while Inyri Forge and the Sullustan Captain Aril Nunb had discovered they shared a passion for obscure games of chance like contract sabacc and double-draw fendoc. As stunning as they were as pilots, their ability to separate other gamblers from their credits was so remarkable that two of the ships in the Rogues’ growing collection of freighters had joined the fleet to pay off bad debts.

Corran smiled to himself as he entered the Flarestar’s darkened interior.
Inyri’s sister Lujayne would just tell me I was holding myself back from getting to know the others, but I’m not sure it’s that simple. I’m just without my close friends—Mirax, Iella, Ooryl—and not really of a mood to make new friends
.

“Corran! Corran Horn, come on over here.”

Corran’s smile grew at the sound of the man’s voice. “Pash? What are you doing here?” He cut between and around tables and gave the taller, slender man a friendly, back-slapping hug. “Normally you aces fly your A-wings through this system so fast I didn’t think you even saw us here.”

Pash pulled a chair over for Corran, then pointed at one of the quartet of pilots already seated at the table. “Linna caught an unstart in one of her J-77 engines just as we swung through the fringes of Yag’Dhul’s atmosphere. We called in an emergency and put into the station here. Zraii said he can fix it up—looks like a micrometeorite chewed up the alluvial compressor.”

Corran nodded. “That blows the pressure in the reaction chamber, and the engine pops out of synch with its twin. X-wing’s damper system prevents that from happening.”

Linna, a blond woman with a mouth just a bit too wide, snorted. “Sure, if you want to be piloting something that should be in a museum. Speed is what will keep a pilot safe and the A-wing has plenty of speed to burn.”

Corran looked at Pash. “You let your pilots talk like that?”

The red-haired man shrugged. “Children. What can I do?”

“You can explain to them that going faster doesn’t mean they’re flying better.”

Linna and the other three A-wing pilots regarded Corran as if he and Pash had just taken public loyalty oaths to the Emperor. “If you can’t handle the speed, you’re not much of a pilot.”

Corran shook his head. “Pash, you were just hoping I would walk in here, weren’t you?”

Pash laughed lightly. “Actually I was waiting for Wedge or Tycho, but I figured you’d be up to the challenge. I know you know of times when speed wouldn’t have helped at all.”

Corran nodded. “Or hurt.”

“Sure, as if such a time could exist.” Linna grabbed a half-full pitcher of Lomin-ale, filled her mug, and topped it with foam. “Speed can’t hurt.”

“Oh, the innocence of youth.” Corran took the mug from in front of her and blew off the foam. “Let me tell you about this time we were on a mission and we got jumped by a
Lancer-
class frigate. If I’d been in an A-wing, well, Rogue Squadron would have a lot more dead on its rosters and Isard would still own Coruscant …”

Though he knew the news he had would make Ysanne Isard happy—in and of itself a feat worthy of monuments—Fliry Vorru kept any sign of it from his face as he entered her office. He intended to surprise her so he could gauge her disposition. The weather becoming hotter and the inclusion of daily rainstorms that hit in the early afternoon had combined with the pressure from Ashern strikes to make Isard more than disagreeable.

Antilles and his antics had further exacerbated the problem. Their hit-and-run tactics were costing the cartel in both credits and prestige. Each raid cost the cartel one or two TIE fighters, which really amounted to insignificant losses,
if
someone had access to a TIE fighter production facility. Sienar Fleet Systems had numerous starfighter factories scattered throughout the galaxy,
but they neglected to put one here, on Thyferra
. As a result, the cartel had to trade for replacements with the likes of Supreme Warlord Harssk and High Admiral Teradoc. They gratefully accepted bacta in return for the fighters, but the scorn that came with each delivery could drive Isard into furious tantrums.

When Isard turned to look at him and smiled, Fliry Vorru felt something cold and serpentine slither through his abdomen. “Ah, Minister Vorru, do come in. I was hoping we would have a chance to speak, and here you arrive before I need send for you.”

Glad he had saved himself from being summoned, Vorru nodded graciously and returned a smile of his own. “I have information I think you will find useful and even pleasing.”

Isard’s scarlet diaphanous outfit rustled as she took a seat in a high-backed chair. “Good news is most welcome, Minister Vorru. Would you be seated? Refreshment?”

There is something going on here I do not understand. Have the Ashern poisoned her somehow?
“Perhaps I will give you my report and you’ll have a chance to reconsider your offer, Madam Director.”

Isard’s eyes widened. “You can’t think me so capricious that I could rescind my offer because you’ve overestimated what you want to tell me, can you?” She waved away any reply before he’d even made an attempt to open his mouth. “My news is good enough to make me offer you something to drink. Give me your news, then you shall have mine and you can see if you want to drink with me.”

I knew one of us would be surprised here, but I didn’t expect it would be me
. He nodded slowly. “As you will, Madam Director. Our main problem in dealing with Antilles and his people is that they are striking at us and running quickly because there is nothing to hold them back. They have no attachments to the systems they are hitting. We arrive, they launch proton torpedoes or concussion missiles, then they scatter like shrapnel from a proton mine.”

Isard nodded, her smile not having shrunk a millimeter. “This has been the course of things to this point. I trust you have found a way to change this.”

“Two aspects of it, yes.” Vorru lifted his chin. “My network of spies has begun to produce information. I have yet to find out what the location of Antilles’s base is. He and his people are being very cautious, but I have no doubt we will discover it in time. Until then I have uncovered two very important pieces of information: Where they are getting their munitions and, more to the point, where the next shipment will be placed in the hands of the Antilles group.”

“Really?”

The hint of falsetto in her voice didn’t escape Vorru, but he did not consider it important at the moment. “It is true, Madam Director. A woman working for Talon Karrde had previously been employed by Jabba the Hutt. Subsequent to his death she spent a couple of years in abject poverty on
Tatooine. Karrde took her in and has helped her get back on her feet, but her taste for fine things has never been satisfied—nor has her ambition. Karrde appointed her to liaise with the Antilles people—Booster Terrik, in fact—an old friend from Kessel.”

“Fascinating. Karrde’s name is not unknown to me, though I would not have thought his organization of sufficient size to meet Antilles’s needs.”

“Carniss indicates Karrde’s operation is larger than anyone suspects. Karrde prefers to maintain a low profile to escape trouble with authorities. Booster Terrik placed a huge order for munitions and equipment, which Karrde is meeting in installments. Karrde’s people are shipping the supplies to a rendezvous point, then Terrik is taking them back to Antilles’s headquarters.”

Isard sat forward. “Does Carniss know where that is?”

“No, but I have been given the location of the rendezvous point. They will be making the transfer in the Alderaan system.”

“They probably draw some sort of ephemeral strength from visiting the site of Alderaan’s sacrifice.”

“Undoubtedly so, Madam Director. What is important is that Antilles will have his fighters and his freighters there. If we divert our warships to Alderaan we can ambush the Antilles group and destroy them.”

Isard’s eyes narrowed, but her smile did not die and this contradiction confused Vorru. “No, Minister Vorru, I’m not going to send all my ships in case this information is false. I don’t doubt you or your source, but Antilles might catch wind of our ambush and refuse to show up. He could even hit a bacta convoy and subject us to yet more ridicule. No, I won’t have that.”

She held up her right index finger. “I do know what I will do. I will send Convarion and the
Corrupter
. He’s ambushed them once and can do it again.”

Vorru shook his head. “But if you only send the
Corrupter
, Antilles and his people will scatter as usual. We will accomplish nothing.”

“No, Vorru, we will accomplish everything.” Isard
laughed aloud, her voice full of triumph. “While you have woven a net of spies to catch Antilles, I have been searching for the means to kill him. I have found it, and in twelve hours it will be here and ready to join Convarion as he goes for the kill.”

Vorru frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“It is rather simple, Minister Vorru.” Isard’s smile became cold. “At great expense I have leased from High Admiral Teradoc a ship, the
Aggregator.

Vorru’s jaw dropped. “An Interdictor Cruiser.”

“Exactly.” She clapped her hands together. “When it arrives at Alderaan and powers up its gravity well projectors, Antilles and his ships will be trapped. There will be another sacrifice at Alderaan—another victory there for the Empire to celebrate. What do you say to that?”

“I say, Madam Director, I
will
accept that drink you offered”—Vorru smiled—“and raise a toast to victory.”

24

Wedge’s X-wing reverted to realspace above the plane of the elliptic in the Alderaan system. Spread out in a flat disk, the rubble that had once been Alderaan looked like the crumbs left behind after the cutting of a
ryshcate
. He slowly shook his head.
Dying only once isn’t nearly enough punishment for the Emperor to atone for this evil
.

Mynock beeped with each ship entering the system. The Rogues in their X-wings had come in first and oriented themselves toward the Graveyard. The most likely threat to them would come from there, from pirates or others hidden amid the debris.
Some of the chunks are large enough to screen even a Star Destroyer
. If there
was
one there, the plan was clean and simple: The X-wings would target it with a full salvo of proton torpedoes, giving the other ships a chance to run.

The dozen freighters Booster had rounded up came in next with the
Pulsar Skate
in the lead. Moments after reversion they made course corrections to get themselves pointed toward their exit vectors. The
Chir’daki
came in last and split their squadron up so each freighter had a fighter escort. If trouble erupted, the Twi’lek and Gand squadron could reassemble
and screen the escaping freighters from any TIEs or other snubfighters, then head out themselves.

Wedge glanced at his screen and saw the names of the various ships in his fleet scroll up. Green letters indicated they were all set to fulfill their part in the mission.
At least we’ve gotten here in one piece. Now we need Karrde to do his job
.

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