wryly. And saving him from Salm was tougher than pulling Corran out of Borleias
ever will be.
At Noquivzor the Rogues could be refueled and
head back out inside a half hour. He assumed their return trip would actually go
off in an hour because he recalled that being the minimum amount of time techs
needed to put the lasers back in the Forbidden. With Tycho flying the shuttle
and the X-wings as escort, they'd be more than a match for the dozen
Interceptors in the Borleias system.
Dozen? I'll bet Corran will leave us half that number.
Wedge sat back for a moment. He realized he thought of Corran as Corran, not
Lieutenant Horn. The distance he had placed between himself and Corran had
collapsed in on itself. He'd purposely chosen to distance himself from all the
new recruits to maintain authority over them. As loose as Rogue Squadron was,
that detachment was necessary if they were to follow him.
Even so, he suddenly realized, he had insulated himself from them for his own
protection. Having lost so many friends, having felt the pain of their deaths,
he had been reluctant to let anyone else get close. Not befriending them meant
he could blunt the pain of seeing them die. He regretted Lujayne Forge, Andoorni
Hui, and Peshk Vri'syk dying, but he had not been as deeply hurt by their deaths
as he had when Biggs or Porkins or Dack had died.
Emotional distance is armor for the heart. That armor was necessary because
without it the overwhelming nature of the fight against the Empire would crush
him. After seeing how many had been slain, it would have been easy to assume all
was for naught. But if we did assume that, the Death Stars would be ravaging
planets and the Emperor would still rule the galaxy.
Corran had earned the friendship Wedge felt for him, and not just through his
skill in an X-wing. He had taken to heart the things Wedge had told him
I
about becoming part of the unit. Corran had clearly known that to go after the
Interceptors closing on an assault shuttle was to be left behind. He had made
that choice because it was really no choice at all. The rest of the unit would
have made the same choice, too.
And they'll want to go back to get Corran. By jumping straight from Noquivzor to
Borleias, without making a side jump first, they could reach the world in under
three hours. Doing that would expose Noquivzor to discovery by Imperial forces,
but Wedge expected Page's people to be giving them other things to think about.
Even so, a jump to the outer edge of the Borleias system and then another jump
in closer would bring them out of hyperspace from a direction that would hide
their point of origin. / hope.
A green button started blinking on the command console. Wedge punched it and
hyperspace melted into the Noquivzor system. He immediately keyed his comm.
"Rogue Leader to Emtrey."
"Emtrey here, sir. I have an urgent message for Bror Jace."
"It's not as urgent as my orders, Emtrey. Get Zraii set up to refuel us and get
techs mounting lasers on the Forbidden. An hour from now, at the most, we're
heading back out."
"Yes, sir."
"And contact Intelligence. I want any holonet data coming out of Borleias."
"Yes, sir." The droid sounded agitated. "Sir, we do have some information from
Borleias."
"You do?" Wedge's heart started to pound inside his chest. "What is it? Is it
about Corran?"
"Yes, sir."
"Give it to me."
"It's a hologram."
Wedge frowned. "Have the computer mash it to two dimensions and send it."
"You may want to wait, sir."
"Emtrey!"
"Transmitting now, sir, at your request."
The monitor resolved itself into an image of Corran Horn. Wedge shook his head.
What?
"If you're seeing this, Commander Antilles," Corran said solemnly, "I know I was
left behind ..."
39
Corran popped one proton torpedo off and watched the lead Interceptor evaporate.
Thumbing his weapons control over to lasers, he started to track the next TIE.
The tractor beam limited his ship's range of motion, but a heavy foot on a
rudder pedal started turning him in the right direction. Just a bit more . ..
The Interceptor exploded as red laser bolts ripped through the cockpit.
Corran looked down at his hand and couldn't recall having hit the trigger.
More laser fire transformed another TIE into a fireball. What in the Cloak of
the Sith?
Whistler started hooting frantically.
Corran hesitated, not comprehending, then flipped his comm unit back on as his
fighter began to rise through the volcano, picking up speed.
"... repeat, is your hyperdrive still operational?"
He recognized the voice. "Mirax?"
"Yeah. You ready to get smuggled out of here?"
"Hyperdrive is a go."
"Key it to my signal."
"Whistler, do it."
Corran didn't afford himself the luxury of looking back at the ship that had
tractored his fighter the forward view had more than enough to entertain him.
Borleias's moon was receding quickly into the starfield, as were the squints.
Green lancets of laser fire reached out toward him, but they splashed harmlessly
against his shields. His return fire scattered the TIEs and one more fell prey
to Skate's gunner.
Whistler piped a warning at him, then the starfield stretched into columns and
they entered hyperspace. A second or two later they came back out again at a
point well below the Pyria system's elliptic plane.
"Corran, bring your fighter around and come up into the hold."
"Gladly, Skate." He complied with the order and found his
twelve-and-a-half-meter-long fighter fit snugly in the hold. He waited for Mirax
to repressurize the hold after closing the loading bay doors, then he popped his
cockpit canopy open and vaulted from the X-wing. He landed on the deck with a
thump, then smiled as the hold hatch opened.
"Permission to come aboard, Captain Terrik."
"Promise you won't tell my father?" Mirax smiled and strode boldly across the
deck to him. "He'd die if he could see an X-wing with CorSec markings in the
belly of his ship."
"And if my father hadn't been killed years ago, having my ship here would have
gotten him, too." Corran enfolded Mirax in a hug. "Your secret is safe with me."
"Likewise, Corran."
He didn't let his arms slacken until he felt
her hug loosen first. "And I commend you on your shooting. You popped three
Interceptors in no time."
Mirax pulled away from him and pointed toward the hatchway. "He did it, not
me."
The silhouette in the hatchway shrugged. "The Skate is a fairly stable gunnery
platform. And the squint pilots weren't the Empire's best."
Pulling off the helmet, Corran crossed the hold and offered the man his hand.
"Still and all, Captain Celchu, it was superior shooting." With skills like
that, I can't imagine why you're not flying with us. Commander Antilles said not
to ask, and now is not the time, but I want to know the answer.
Mirax patted Corran on the back and let her hand linger there for a moment
a
sensation he relished. "Come on up to the bridge. We'll go to hyperspace and get
back to Noquivzor before the others do."
"We will?"
Mirax slapped the nearest bulkhead. "The Skate can push .6 past light speednot
as fast as the Falcon, but definitely better-looking. With our speed we can
trim time off the trip back to Noquivzor and fly a course that's shorter. We'll
beat them by an hour, just as we did getting here."
Corran frowned. "But how could you get here since no one was supposed to know
where here was? Commander Antilles didn't tell the others until our second
jump."
The smuggler smiled sweetly at him. "Not my fault you talk in your sleep."
Tycho laughed. "Mirax discovered a possible security breach. We arrived and
went to ground on the dark side of the moon. We monitored Borleias control
traffic and didn't notice unusual activity down there, so we maintained comm
silence when the squadron arrived."
Corran sat down across from him. "If you told us you were there you might have
alerted the Imperials."
"Exactly." Tycho followed Mirax into the Skate's cockpit and dropped into one of
the jumpseats. "Since the squadron was running with weak comm system
transmissions, we couldn't hear what Wedge had planned when he went sunside, but
we figured things out from Imperial interceptsthe Verpine droid here has
slicing skills that broke the Imp scrambling quite quickly. We stayed hidden
when the squints started to search, assuming we'd break and run when they
reached the volcano."
Mirax looked back at Corran. "Then you arrived with them on your tail, we
grabbed you and pulled you out."
Corran chuckled as he strapped himself into the seat. "I thought I was dead."
"I imagine that is what the rest of the squadron will be thinking when they
reach Noquivzor." Tycho slapped Corran on the knee. "Won't they be surprised?"
"Yeah, I imagine they will." Corran's eyes narrowed. "And I've got an idea
which means we can have some fun with them."
Mirax tapped the console and smiled at her Sullustan pilot. "Get us going, Liat,
and fast, too. The Pulsar Skate will be the first ship ever to smuggle a man
back from the grave, and I mean for us to do it in record time at that."
40
"... on Borleias's moon," Corran's image continued. "I know the decision to
leave me behind wasn't easy."
Wedge's eyes narrowed. ". . . on Borleias's moon?" How could he have known? Wait
a minute!
"I want you to know I harbor no ill will concerning my abandonment. To prove
this to you, I pried some Whyren's Reserve away from Emtrey and a ryshcate
should have finished baking by the time you land."
"Wahoo!" Gavin's voice echoed through the comm.
Wedge keyed his comm. "Horn, if you aren't dead, you will be."
Corran's image broke into laughter. "I'm happy to see you, too, Commander.
Welcome home."
Wedge sat back in his chair and held the half-full tumbler up so the light from
the center of the recreation room made the amber liquid in it glow. Its
chemical warmth, aided and abetted by seeing Corran alive and unhurt, had chased
the chilly dread
from his belly and melted the stress in his shoulders and neck. Putting his feet
up on the table, he actually began to relax for the first time in conscious
memory.
In retrospect Corran's message was rather funny. He watched his green-eyed
lieutenant cut the warm ryshcate and hand it out to the other pilots in the
squadron. They were all giddy with their success and his survival. Wedge knew
they all had been as horrified as he had when the message began to play in their
cockpits, but no one was more relieved than he had been when the truth of it was
revealed to them.
As jokes go, Corran, it was good. You'll pay for it, of course, but it was good.
Wedge glanced sidelong at Tycho. "I can't believe you let him send that
message."
The Alderaanian shrugged. "The shocked expression on your face was even better
than I imagined it would be."
"I won't forget that, Captain Celchu."
"Besides, I can't wait to see how you're going to get back at Corran." Tycho
took a swallow of his lum. "I trust you'll make it good."
"You can be assured of that." Wedge sipped a little more whiskey and let it sit
on his tongue for a moment. Sucking air in through slightly parted lips let the
crisp, woody aroma fill his head, then he swallowed and smiled. "Corran comes
back from the dead and I understand you were resurrected, too. Three squints?"
Tycho nodded solemnly. "Two were at point-blank rangeEmtrey could have shot
them. The third was at rangedecent shot."
"Of course, the Alliance Security team is a bit upset at having been detained in
your quarters."
"No, they weren't very happy when we took
them prisoner." His Executive Officer winced. "The problem was we had a possible
security leak, but explaining everything we would have had to explain would
have made it impossible for us to get to Borleias in time to warn you, if that's
what we needed to do."
"Easier to ask forgiveness than permission." Wedge chuckled. "I was planning the
same sort of thing for the return trip to Borleias. You've got the security
problem under control?"
"I think so. Locking this thing down will mean a lot of time being spent with
Emtrey."
"Put Corran on it."
Tycho shook his head. "Eew, that's nastier than even I assumed you'd be."
"Well, leading a unit isn't a young man's game, after all." Wedge swung his feet
to the floor and set his tumbler on the table as Corran approached with two
pieces of ryshcate. "Smells good."
"Mirax made it." Corran handed the other piece to Tycho. "Corellians use it for
celebrations."
Wedge hefted his piece of the sweetcake. "Getting you back from Borleias is
worthy of celebration, as is having the Alliance's hottest new pilot being a
member of the squadron."
Corran looked surprised. "Me?"
"No." Wedge smiled past him at the man arriving late to the celebration.
"Congratulations, Bror Jace. The trio of kills you got on the Interceptors
following us out of the Pyria system puts you at twenty-two kills. You beat
Lie utenant Horn by one."
The Thyferran beamed, his blue eyes alive with pride. "Thank you, Commander." He
glanced down for a second, then accepted a piece of the cake from Mirax. "This
is good news and helps offset what I have just heard."
Wedge set his cake down next to the glass of whiskey. "And that is?"
"The message waiting for me was from Thyferra. My great uncle, our patriarch,
is dying. The Emdees give him two weeks at best. Even bacta cannot cure old
age."
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Jace, Bror." Wedge glanced at his XO. "Tycho, can you .
. . ?"
"No problem, Wedge." Tycho stood up. "Compassion leave won't work, but if we
send our pilot home on a recruiting run, I think the diplomatic corps will back
us up. You'll be on your way as soon as you can pack your X-wing, Mr. Jace."
"Thank you."
Corran offered Bror his hand. "I'm sorry to kn
ow your uncle is ill. I'm also
sorry to lose to you, but I'm not sorry about how well you did."
"Nor I about your performance." Bror pumped Corran's hand. "I would give you
another chance at such a contest, but I do not want even the slightest hint of
division within this squadron."
"I concur." Corran nabbed a small piece of cake from the serving tray on the
table and popped it into his mouth.
Everyone followed Corran's lead and as he chewed, just for a second, Wedge felt
himself back on Yavin 4, catching a hasty last meal before he and his friends
went off to attack the Death Star. He knew it wasn't the taste of the ryshcate
that brought the memory backon Yavin 4 there had been no time and no
ingredients to create something so indulgent. No, it's the sense of unity that
takes me back. The core spirit, it was there before Rogue Squadron was ever
formed. It was the squadron's soul and it's still here. This is Rogue Squadron,
not reborn, just continuing as it should.
"I'd like to offer a toast, my friends, if I may." Wedge raised his glass and
the others joined him. "To Rogue Squadron, to the friends we've lost, the
battles we've fought, and the utter fear our return will bring to our enemies."
Epilog
Kirtan Loor dropped to one knee before Ysanne Isard's life-size hologram.
"Please forgive my disturbing you, Madam Director, but you said you wanted to
be informed immediately on any developments."
She frowned impatiently at him. "I have seen General Derricote's requisition
request for more Gamorreans. Has there been a breakthrough?"
"I am not certain."
"But you approved the request."
"Yes, Madam Director." Even though she was projecting her image from her tower
office nearly three kilometers above and away from his cramped workspace, the
distance did not insulate him from her ire. Somehow her eyes seem to project
venom through the holonet. "You will forgive me, Madam Director, but General
Derricote is still upset about the loss of his facility on Borleias. He said you
promised him it would be returned to him if he completed his work within your
parameters."
"And so it shall. The Alliance stewardship of Borleias will be of little
consequence in the grand
scheme of things." Isard's image stared hard at him. "So, there is no
breakthrough with Derricote?"
"None to my knowledge, Madam Director."