Star Wars - X-Wing - Rogue Squadron

  Alderaanian goods, and this list is current, I'm thinking the droid is

  projecting the availability of products following this mission."

  Tycho sat back and scowled. "I can see how you made that assumption, but ..."

  "Couple it with this There's been a rumor floating around about a new source

  for Alderaanian goods, but the prices have been prohibitively high. I assumed

  the Empire was releasing stockpiles to soak up credits being held by Alderaanian

  expatriates, denying the Rebellion a source of needed money. If there is a

  source, be it an Imperial storehouse or something else, I think Rogue Squadron

  is headed toward it. And it doesn't take much brains to see such a place would

  be a prime target for the Alliance, given how many Alderaanian nomads would

  love another piece of their world."

  "Count me among their number. Such a storehouse would be an inviting target for

  a raid, and a logical site for an Imperial trap." Tycho rubbed his hands over

  his face and sighed heavily. "This doesn't look good, does it?"

  "I've arranged to take all of these items that Emtrey can provide, so the list

  is clear right now. No one else can get access to it. No one else knows of it,

  as nearly as I know, so the leak should have stopped there."

  "Still, there is a chance that the information could have gotten out."

  "Exactly." Mirax popped up out of her chair as the door opened and Emtrey came

  in.

  "Good morning, Captain Celchu, Ms. Terrik. How may I be of service?"

  Mirax grabbed the droid's left arm. "You have to tell me where Rogue Squadron is

  going."

  "I'm afraid, Ms. Terrik, that information is classified. Neither you nor

  Captain Celchu are authorized to know that information. To provide it to you

  would be to compromise ..."

  "Emtrey, that list you gave me this morning already compromises the location."

  "I'm afraid that's impossible."

  Tycho boosted himself up off the bunk. "Where are you getting the Alderaanian

  goods you're offering for sale?"

  The droid twitched and the tone of his voice shifted slightly. "If I reveal my

  sources, you'll cut in on my action. No way."

  Mirax stared incredulously at the droid, then turned back toward Tycho. "Can you

  believe this?"

  "No, in fact, I can't."

  "I'm just protecting my profit margin here."

  "Emtrey, this is a matter of life and death."

  "Sure it is, Ms. Terrik, the death of my business."

  Tycho stood abruptly. "Emtrey, shut up."

  The droid looked at him strangely, tilting his head. "I wasn't saying anything,

  sir."

  "His voice has changed."

  "I notice." Tycho's eyes narrowed. "Shut up."

  "I beg your pardon, sir."

  "Shut up."

  The droid's arms snapped to its sides so quickly that Mirax lost her grip on

  him. The clamshell head canted forward, making the droid bow its head until its

  chin touched its chest. At the top of its neck, previously hidden by the head,

  Mirax saw a glowing red button.

  "What's going on, Captain?"

  Tycho half shrugged. "I'm not certain, really, but the droid is in a wait-state,

  it seems. I discovered

  this little trick when I was ferrying him to the Talasea system and we came

  acro ss your ship. We were in combat and he wouldn't stop nattering. I ended up

  yelling at him to shut up and after the third time, this happened. He remains

  like this until roused. What's important right now is that until we hit the red

  button and reset him, he's little more than a remote with access to all Emtrey's

  memories."

  "That's dangerous for a droid doing military work."

  "It's not a standard modification for obvious reasons. There are a number of

  things odd about this droid, not the least of which is the voice shift when you

  start to press him on requisitions. I can check that later, though. Right now

  this override should get us what you want. Emtrey, I require the name of the

  system in which Rogue Squadron will be operating."

  "Pyria system, Borleias, fourth planet, one moon, home to an Imperial fortress

  and various failed and abandoned industrial and agricultural ventures." The

  voice changed slightly. "Location of agro-manufacturing facility for Alderaanian

  agricultural products with high covert trade value."

  Mirax's blood ran cold. "Emtrey, the list of products available from that

  facilityhow many people have had access to it?"

  "Yours was the only access, Ms. Terrik."

  "Could a copy have been made by a slicer without your knowledge?"

  The droid did not reply for a second or two. "Impossible to determine an answer

  to that question."

  Mirax looked over at Tycho. "The Empire could have been warned. We have to do

  something."

  "What? If we send a message out it could warn

  the Empire they're coming as easily as it warns our people of an ambush."

  "So we go there. I can get us there fast. Maybe even before they arrive."

  "And have our presence tip the Empire about the raid?" Tycho shook his head.

  "Any comm message could be intercepted, even if we are in-system and try to

  tight-beam it to them. That's no good."

  Mirax balled her fists and hammered them against her thighs. "We have to do

  something. We can't just sit around and do nothing."

  "Yes, but what we do has to be the right thing." Tycho slowly smiled and reached

  for the button on the back of Emtrey's neck. "And I think I know what it is."

  34

  When the squadron reverted to realspace, the dark craggy ball hanging in space

  before them reduced Borleias to a slender blue-green crescent streaked with

  white. The moon's thin atmosphere blurred Borleias's image, making it

  beautifulwhich was definitely not how Corran had remembered it. Corran inverted

  his X-wing, then reached up with his right hand to hit the switch that brought

  his S-foils into attack position. Ahead of him Wedge's X-wing similarly spread

  its wings, twisting around and bearing down on the moon.

  The X-wings maintained comm silence as they leveled out and skimmed the black

  lunar surface. Corran brought his snubfighter in behind and to the left of

  Wedge's fighter. With their scanners in passive mode to avoid detection, they'd

  only register threats that had scanners up and seeking targets. As a result

  visual scanning by pilots and astromech droids became the primary defense

  against ambush.

  "Not that much should be here." While the simulations had represented this run

  as threading their way through an asteroid ring around a planet to re-

  main hidden, all the parameters used were taken from Borleias. As nearly as they

  knew the Imperials had not stationed fighters or remote detection units on the

  moon. Still, that possibility did exist, so the squadron did all it could to

  keep their presence a secret.

  Volcanic glass teeth lined gaps in crater walls. They reflected scant little

  starlight, but strange shapes did appear in silhouette against the starfield.

  Whipping along at near maximum speed in the pitch-darkness of the moon's

  nightside did seem reckless and foolish, but no more so than the rest of the

  mission. They raced through the blackness, heading toward a point on the


  ever-changing horizon.

  When the horizon appeared as a white crown, Wedge's X-wing pulled up and shot

  away from the moon. Down on Borleias the moon only appeared to be half full and

  the Rogues made their approach against the background of the moon's dark side.

  They plunged down into Borleias's gravity well. They let the planet draw them

  in, but before they hit the outer edges of the planet's atmosphere, Corran

  brought his ship around in a looping turn to starboard and inverted to have

  Borleias's dark face above him.

  Pulling back on the stick, he eased the fighter's nose into the atmosphere. The

  ablative shell Zraii had applied to his fighter began to glow red, then came

  apart in a shower of sparks that momentarily blanketed his cockpit canopy. Once

  the fiery cloud passed, he pulled back even more on the stick and started a

  sharper descent into Borleias's night.

  The ablative shell had given his ship the appearance of yet one more of the

  Versied meteors streaking through the night sky. Corran checked his scanners

  and had no indication of hostile sensors

  directed at him. Entry is clean. Glancing at his instruments, he came around to

  a heading and chopped his speed back so he would reach the rendezvous point

  exactly on time.

  Flipping a switch, he engaged the fuel pod pump so it would start to refill his

  onboard fuel tank. A red-lined error message scrolled up on his main screen.

  "Whistler, the T65-AFP pump isn't working. Is there anything you can do?"

  A negative hoot replied to his question.

  Corran shrugged. / have to run with the pod a little longer. No big deal.

  Suddenly Nawara's voice crackled over the helmet speakers. "Leader, twelve,

  repeat one-two, eyeballs coming in from the west, angels ten. On intercept for

  run. Patrol formation."

  Corran felt his stomach clench. Lucky bastards. He smiled. Or very unlucky.

  "Two Flight, Three Flight, pounce on them. Nine, we're to the deck and in. Are

  you ready?"

  "Telemetry feed started, you are lead." Corran tightened his grip on the stick

  and shoved the fighter over into a steep dive. "This is it, Whistler. Keep your

  domed head down and enjoy the ride."

  Wedge flipped his scanners into active mode and swooped his X-wing into the

  narrow end of the rift valley. The computer used muted greens to impose

  holographic highlights on the canopy that corresponded to the terrain outside.

  Nudging the stick to port and starboard he sliced his craft through the sleeping

  canyon. He rolled up on his port wing to slip through a narrow passage, then

  noted that behind him Corran had remained level to make the same run.

  "No need to be fancy, Nine."

  "Yes, sir." Corran's voice drifted off for a

  second. "Lead, I have two hostiles coming in behind us."

  Wedge hit a switch on his console. "Power to rear deflector shields."

  "Done."

  "Mynock, bring up data on the trailers." The monitor flashed images of two TIE

  starfighters. We should be faster than they are maneuvering through atmosphere

  here, but I'd rather they weren't there.

  Wedge keyed his comm. "Four, we have two down here. Can you help?"

  Bror answered immediately. "Negative, Lead. Our plates are full, and long-range

  scans indicate squints coming in."

  "Copy, Four." Wedge frowned. The intervention by Interceptors was not good. If

  both of the squadrons that showed up at the end of the last battle were to

  scramble against Rogue Squadron, no one would make it home. But that's not the

  objective of this missionblowing the conduit is.

  "Nine, push your speed."

  "As ordered."

  The X-wings came out of the canyon leading into the rift valley. To the right

  grassy plains stretched out through the darkness. On the left a striated

  escarpment rose up nearly a thousand meters. Its craggy surface reflected

  enough moonlight to let Wedge see Corran's X-wing in silhouette as the fighter

  drew almost parallel to his port stabilizer. Twenty-five kilometers farther on

  the valley narrowed again and five kilometers beyond that point lay their

  target.

  Verdant laser bolts sizzled past, splitting the space between the Rebel

  fighters. Wedge juked up and to the starboard, while Corran's ship sank out of

  sight on the left. Rolling his ship and letting it move back toward the center

  of the valley, he saw

  one TIE dive, its lasers gouging up great chunks of the valley floor in front of

  Corran's jinking X-wing.

  Wedge hauled his throttle back to half power and pulled a hard turn to port.

  Punching the throttle forward again, he rolled the ship onto its right S-foil

  and yanked it back in another hard turn. Leveling out to the left, he slipped

  into the aft wash of the TIE that had been on his tail. His finger tightened

  down on the trigger and scarlet laser fire exploded the Imperial fighter.

  "Nine, report."

  "Go, Lead, punch it. I'm coming behind."

  "Status."

  "I'll be good to go in a second."

  Kicking the X-wing up on the starboard stabilizers, Wedge stabbed his fighter

  into the narrow northern end of the valley. A brilliant flash of light painted

  shadows against white rock with skeletal clarity. The X-wing bucked a bit as the

  explosion's shock wave caught up with it, but Wedge's steady hand kept the

  fighter clear of the canyon walls.

  "Nine, what was that?"

  "Fuel pod exploding."

  "One more time."

  "Misses on the deck kicked up debris that hit my belly pod and I had a slow

  leak. I jettisoned it. The tank exploded and the guy behind me got an eyeful."

  Wedge looked at his fuel indicators. His fuel pod was still a quarter full.

  "Fuel status."

  "I'm okay."

  "How much?"

  "Three-quarters." Anger in Corran's voice transmuted into resolution. "Enough

  to do the job."

  "Copy." One run, then you're out of here, Corran. You're into your reserve.

  Wedge clicked his

  weapons control over to proton torpedoes. "One klick, arming two."

  "Got it. Armed two. Is that light up there?"

  Wedge slowly nodded. "Be alert. Power to forward shields." Banking hard

  starboard he brought the figh ter around the final turn before the run to the

  conduit. Yanking the stick to the left he snap-rolled the X-wing level, then hit

  the right rudder pedal and started the fighter skidding to the left. Laser

  bolts exploded against his forward shields.

  He pulled the trigger, sending two proton torpe-dos sizzling out, but even as he

  did so he knew they would miss high. As they exploded against the canyon walls

  beyond the ferrocrete tunnel, Wedge snapped his repulsorlift drives on and

  bounced his fighter up and out of the canyon. Jamming his throttle full

  forward, he hauled back on the stick and shot skyward.

  He saw the flashes of two more explosions below him as he rocketed away from

  Borleias. "Nine, report."

  "Mine went low. That was a Juggernaut assault vehicle down there providing that

  fire."

  "And it looked like they were reinforcing the conduit."

  "I saw that. I nailed a ferrocrete mixer."

  Wedge checked his scanners. "We
have a squadron of Interceptors headed in our

  direction."

  "What do you want to do? I'm good for another run."

  "Another run would be suicide, Nine, and you don't have the fuel to play."

  "Sir, I'm good for another run."

  Wedge shook his head. "You're heading home while you can still get there."

  "No."

  "That's an order, Nine, not an invitation to de-

  bate." Wedge could feel Corran's disappointment. It's exactly what I felt when

  Luke ordered me out of the trench on the first Death Star run. "Get clear,

  Corran. You can't do any more good back there."

  Dejection filled Corran's voice. "As ordered, sir. What are you going to do?"

  "Blowing the conduit is our mission and the others can't break off to do it."

  Wedge Antilles slowly smiled. "What the Imps have set up there will stop almost

  any pilot. I'm going to remind them that in Rogue Squadron we don't take just

  any pilot."

  35

  Kirtan Loor fussed with the hem of his tunic and adjusted his cap with a tug on

  the bill. He wanted to feel confident about his recall to Coruscant, but he did

  not dare allow himself that indulgence. His mission had been the destruction of

  Rogue Squadron. While half of it had died at Borleias, the other half lived,

  with Wedge Antilles and Corran Horn still flying. In fact, the unit had amassed

  a considerable list of kills while it was his to destroy, so he could not

  imagine Ysanne Isard would be in a pleasant mood.

  He cracked a smile. / cannot imagine her ever being in a good mood.

  The door to her office slid open and Kirtan's smile died. Isard again wore her

  scarlet Admiral's uniform, complete with the black armband on her left arm. Her

  hair had been drawn back and fastened at the nape of her neck with a black

  clasp. She gestured invitingly, but the mannerly nature of her greeting only

  played through her hand. Her mismatched eyes prophesied doom, but he thought it

  might be deferred instead of immediate.

  "Please, Agent Loor, do come in. I trust the journey from Borleias was not too

  tiring."

  He shook his head, doing his best to hide any trace of fatigue. "I apologize for

  not being here sooner. My original agenda was disrupted, hence the week's delay

  in my arrival."

  "I know about it. Another operation demanded some resources that I had planned

  to use for your return." She casually waved away concern over the