delaysomething Kirtan found mildly annoying since she had caused it and his
week on Toprawa. "I trust you spent your time on Toprawa well?"
"Well?" Toprawa had been a Rebel transfer point for the stolen data about the
first Death Star. As punishment for their complicity in the Rebellion, the
population saw its world reduced to a pre-industrial state where banthas were
the swiftest form of travel and fire was the highest level of energy production
available to the native people. Imperial forces lived in gleaming citadels that
remained lit like beacons throughout the night, becoming visible monuments to
what the people of Toprawa had lost through their perfidy.
"You studied their suffering, yes?" Her dark brows arrowed together. "You saw
what they have become."
Kirtan swallowed hard. "I have seen, yes. They are wretched and pathetic."
"And you witnessed one of their festivals?"
He nodded slowly. The "festival" involved a company of stormtroopers driving a
cart laden with sacks of grain into the center of a village. To receive the
grain the villagers were required to squirm on their bellies, worming their way
forward, all the time weeping and wailing lamentations over the Emperor's
death. Food was doled out based on some trooper's belief in the sincerity of the
mourning.
Kirtan had no doubt that many of the people had come to believe they truly did
regret the Emperor's death.
"Those people, Agent Loor, conspired with the Emperor's murderers. They have
learned that their actions have consequences, and they regret their past
disloyalty." Her eyes tightened at the corners. "In their previous arrogance
they dared believe the Empire was superfluous and could be replaced. Now they
know this is not true. All that is good in their lives comes from the Empire.
They have been shown the truth and now live for a chance to be allowed back into
our brotherhood."
"I saw. I remember."
Isard's harsh expression slackened slightly. "I recall your visual retention
rate."
Toprawa must have been meant as a lesson in contrition. Kirtan raised his chin
slightly, exposing his throat. "Madam Director, I regret deeply not having
completed my mission."
"You do?" Isard opened her hands and surprise widened her eyes. "How is it you
believe you have failed?"
"You sent me out to destroy Rogue Squadron." Kirtan's head twisted slightly to
the side. "I have failed to do this."
"It is true that Rogue Squadron still exists, though for how much longer is in
serious debate. The attack on Borleias hurt them badly. Your report made this
quite apparent." She smiled and Kirtan had to suppress a shudder. "More
important than that was the information you provided about General Derricote's
private enterprise on Borleias. You could not have hidden it from me, of course,
since it was key to the defense that sent the Rebels away without a victory."
Kirtan Loor bowed his head to her. "I am glad
you were pleased." As he looked back up her expression changed again and it did
not speak to anything even approximating pleasure on her part. It also missed
mild discomfort by a wide margin, turning his mouth into a desert and his
stomach into a home for a Sarlacc.
What did I do? When he swallowed his larynx scraped in his throat as if both
were made of stone. What did I fail to do?
"I had expected something more of you, Agent Loor. Can you imagine what that
is?"
He shook his head. "I cannot."
"No, indeed you cannot. And do you know why you cannot?"
"No."
Her hissed words echoed through the nearly empty chamber. "It is because your
imagination has atrophied to the point of lifelessness. Recall, if you will,
what Gil Bastra thought of you."
Kirtan's face burned. "He felt I replied on my retention of knowledge too much
and used it to compensate for a lack of analysis. I remember this, and I have
tried to change my ways. I had done an analysis of probable Rebel strategies
and I isolated a number of worlds where I felt they would strike after they hit
the Hensara system. And I was right, because Borleias was on that list."
"And how did you come to be at Borleias?"
"You sent me there."
"I sent you there." She held her right hand out to her side, then brought the
left hand into the same position with a similar gesture. "Therefore you
concluded?"
"That your analysis of Rebel strategy paralleled mine, hence you sent me to
Borleias."
She brought her hands together, interlacing her fingers. "You began analysis,
found what you
thought was corroboration for it, and then, instead of further testing your
analysis and this corroborating evidence, you stopped thinking. Consider the
utter absurdity of your conclusion."
"What?"
"Kirtan Loor, are you so simpleminded to assume that if I could predict where
the Rebels were going to strike I would send you and you alone to be there and
observe their attack? I assure you, I do not think so highly of your martial
skills."
The Sarlacc in his stomach grew restless and began gnawing its way free of his
belly. Borleias should have fallen, and did not only because Derricote had
hidden resources available to defend it. If she were able to predict where the
Rebels would show up, she would have opposed them with significantly greater
force and have struck a solid blow against them.
"From the beginning, Agent Loor, the difficulty with the Rebellion has been in
locating them. Since the Emperor's death, they have been able to spread out and
diversify their bases, making them more difficult to destroy. Your effort
against the base at Talasea was commendablehad Admiral Devlia not been stupid,
Rogue Squadron might have been eliminated. The importance of that example,
however, is to show you the vast problem we have had in finding the Rebels we
want to kill."
Ysanne Isard clasped her hands at the small of her back. "Borleias is but one of
two dozen worlds that provides the Rebels access to the Core worlds and even
Imperial Center herself. Defending against those attacks is nearly impossible
and utterly ridiculous if one bears in mind that the destruction of the
Rebellion is the only way the preservation and restoration of the Empire can
take place. This I do have
utmost in my mind, and it is this consideration that sent you to Borleias."
Kirtan concentrated for a moment. The only thing I did at Borleias was discover
Derricote's covert operation. But if she had known about that previously she
would have dealt with him herself. "You sent me to spy on General Derricote?"
Isard nodded almost mechani cally. "He has skills that are useful to me. The fact
that he had managed to repair and make operational the old Alderaanian Biotics
facility indicated that his skills had not atrophied. After I received your
report I sent for him, and left my own people in charge of Borleias. In fact, he
is here, now."
"My passage was delayed because you used ships meant for me to fetch him away."
"Very good, Agent Loor. Your report indicated he had th
e resources needed to
resist a casual invitation. The arrival of a Super Star Destroyer proved enough
to convince him to join me here. I have my people safeguarding his operation for
him, tightening defenses and the like."
His facility is held hostage against his cooperation. Kirtan closed his eyes
for a moment, hoping all the confusion and conflicting thoughts in his mind
would sort themselves out.
They did not. He opened his eyes and saw her studying him as a scavenger would
study carrion. "Forgive me, Madam Director, but I've lost track of your mission
for me."
"Your mission, Agent Loor, is the same as it has always beendestroy Rogue
Squadron. The fact that I choose other missions for you from time to time should
not deflect you from your primary duty."
"Then you will be sending me back out into the galaxy to pursue them?"
"No, you will remain here and work with General Derricote."
Kirtan opened his mouth and started to ask a question, then closed it. He
watched her for a moment, then bowed his head. "As you wish, Madam Director."
"No, as it must be." She turned away from him and faced the windows that looked
out over Imperial City. "There is no need to send you in their pursuit. You
see, soon enough, they will be here. And when they are it will be quite the
welcome you have prepared for them."
36
"Get going, Nine. Defend yourself if you can't run, but get out of here." Wedge
rolled his fighter to give himself a final look at Corran's X-wing. "You've done
good."
The other pilot gave him a thumbs-up. "I'll be waiting for the rest of you to
get outbound."
"See you then." Wedge pulled the X-wing back over past vertical and saw the
planet descend to fill his canopy. While the four proton torpedoes he and Corran
had loosed at the conduit had not destroyed it, the burning ferrocrete mixer did
mark the target rather nicely. Knowing surprise had been irrevocably lost, Wedge
brought his fighter down in a spiral that put him five kilometers out from the
target at just under four klicks altitude.
As Han once told me, "Stealth and subtlety work well, but for making lasting
impressions, a blaster does just fine." He brought his X-wing around on a
heading that paralleled the valley, dropped the nose so it pointed at the fire
burning in the distance, and started his dive. I definitely want this to be a
lasting impression.
Green laser bolts from the Juggernaut vehicle lanced up through the night at
him. Mynock whined, but Wedge just dropped the fighter below the line of fire,
or bounced up above it, constantly forcing the gunners to adjust their sights up
and down or side to side. Shooting at a fighter means you have a lot more
movement to account for. Very few land vehicles can dance around this much.
And none of them can do what I have in mind.
The range-to-target indicator on his console scrolled meters off by the hundreds
as he dove in on the conduit. A peace washed over him despite the Imperial fire
being directed toward him. He knew he wasn't slipping into some Jedi tranceas
much as he admired Luke he knew he'd never master his friend's mystical skills.
The sense of serenity seemed born of a conviction that he had to succeed in
destroying the conduit and, more importantly, a lifetime of experience that
told him the forces on the ground couldn't stop him.
One kilometer out from the target, Wedge pulled his throttle back and reversed
the engine's thrust. As the Juggernaut's laser batteries brought their beams
together to burn him from the sky, the X-wing dropped like a rock. In virtual
freefall, it hurtled down toward the canyon floor. The Juggernaut's gunners,
perhaps believing they had in fact hit the fighter, or perhaps horrified at its
uncontrolled descent, stopped shooting.
Not that it would have mattered. A hundred meters from the ground Wedge clicked
in the repulsorlift engines and their whine drowned out Mynock's terrified
scream. The fighter's fall ended abruptly in a bouncing, bobbing hover barely
five meters from the canyon's sandy floor. Dust billowed up around the X-wing
and the lasers in the boxy Juggernaut's forward turret began to track down.
Behind the ve-
hide, visible in the red and gold light of the burning mixer, stormtroopers and
masons began to scatter.
Running his engines to zero thrust, Wedge ruddered the X-wing's nose in line
with the Juggernaut and pulled the trigger on his flight stick. A single proton
torpedo jetted out at the assault vehicle. The coruscating blue energy
projectile pierced the Juggernaut's windscreen. It immolated the cockpit crew
and melted its way into the vehicle's main body. There it detonated, swelling
the Juggernaut with energy and rounding out its sharp corners before blasting
it apart. Armor shrapnel sprayed throughout the area. It made the X-wing's
shields spark for a moment, but through them Wedge could see the aft end of the
vehicle tumble back up and over the conduit to fall on the other side.
Its burning hulk silhouetted the conduit.
Wedge thumbed his weapons control over to lasers and pulled the trigger. Using
the rudder pedals he rocked the fighter back and forth, peppering construction
vehicles and plasteel forms with scarlet energy bolts. Scaffolding collapsed
and semifluid ferrocrete oozed from burning forms. Stormtroopers darted back and
forth, seeking any cover they could find. He made no attempt to target them
specificallyusing a starfighter's weapons to kill an individual was akin to
using a lightsaber to trim loose threads from a garment. It would do the job,
but there were easier ways that were far more economical.
He switched back to proton torpedoes and armed two. Focusing his aiming reticle
on the ferrocrete pipe, he hit the trigger, then punched power to the
repulsorlift drives to vault his ship into the air.
The paired torpedoes blasted into and through the conduit in a shower of sparks.
Ten meters beyond the pipe itself they exploded, igniting a rogue
star right there in the canyon. The shock wave rocked the fighter. It
disintegrated the pipe, shearing it off at both ends, then rolled on with such
force that it snuffed the fires burning in the vehicles. The canyon walls shook,
starting rocks and dust tumbling down. The explosion's harsh glare gave Wedge
one last glance at the complete destruction of the target zone, then the
fireball imploded, plunging the canyon into complete darkness.
He allowed himself the hint of a smile. "Conduit's gone. Now we start working
on my objective."
Wedge punched his throttle full forward and jettisoned his empty fuel pod.
"Rogue Leader here. Mission accomplished."
"Four here, Lead. All eyeballs blinded, all Rogues are safe. Squints and Rogues
inbound your position." Bror's voice stopped for a moment. "We'll be there
before they are."
"Time to head home, Rogues. Let's outrun them." Wedge brought his fighter around
on a course that would link up with the other four fighters in the squadron.
"Nine is leading the way out and will report trouble."
"Negative, Lead." The anxiety in Nawara's voice san
k like ice through Wedge.
"I've checked. Nine is nowhere on my forward scan."
Angry with himself, Corran considered violating Commander Antilles's order and
shadowing him anyway. That thought survived about as long as Peshk had in the
first fight for Blackmoon. He's right. Your fuel reserves are down. He's given
you a mission, and you're to complete it. Head out and make sure the run is
clear.
"Whistler, boost my sensors. I want as complete
a picture of the theater here as you can give me. Full threat assessments."
The astromech droid chirped happily. His first list of fighters showed only
three eyeballs left in the dogfight with Rogue Squadron. A full squadron of
squints was inbound, but their threat assessments were in decimal points. They
were no threat to him, and scant little threat to his squadron mates. While he
could not ignore them, there was no reason they would interfere with his run out
of the system.
The numbers on two of them climbed slightly higher. "What's with those two?"
Whistler splashed a tactical display on Corran's monitor. Two of the squints had
broken off to run a flyby and possible intercept on a body moving through the
atmosphere. The numbers Whistler used to describe that falling object showed its
fall to be controlled, and Corran was fairly certain that little fact would not
have been lost upon the TIE pilots.
"Whistler, do you think they're closing on one of our assault shuttles?"
A crisp note answered him as Whistler tagged the shuttle as the Devonian.
"Yeah, I thought so." Yanking his stick back to his breastbone, Corran brought
the snubfighter over in a big loop. "Page, you're going to owe me big time for
this one."
The droid tootled at him with low tones.
"Yes, I do know what I'm doing. If I let my dive drive me instead of burning up
fuel, we'll be fine." Corran eased his throttle back. "And, no, I don't want you
to calculate the odds on this. I've never asked for the odds before, and I don't
want them now. Odds only matter when you're engaged in games of chance, and if
Page's people are going to have any chance, this can't be a game."
Corran's dive was bringing him high, hot, and
on an angle at the rear arc for the Interceptors. He focused his attention on
the second squint. He couldn't sw itch over to proton torpedoes because a target