Star Wars - X-Wing - Krytos Trap

  when your world's destruction would take place."

  Tycho's jaw shot open. "But that's preposterous."

  "You and I know it's preposterous, but there are count-

  less people out there who would believe it. You've been to

  the Galactic Museum. You've seen how the exhibits about

  the Emperor twist facts into lies. It's no surprise that such

  twisting can take place. The fact is, though, that people be-

  lieved the Emperor died at Endor destroying a Rebel Death

  Star. It will be very easy for those same people to believe the

  worst of you."

  Nawara hooked a taloned hand over Tycho's binders.

  "You don't remember your time at Lusankya, but she will

  make your amnesia sound like lying. And she's good, very

  good. She'll have you saying things you don't want to say.

  Damage will be done and we won't be able to recover from

  it."

  Tycho slumped back in his chair, dragging his hands into

  his lap. "We've really got nothing to prove my innocence, do

  we?"

  "We have testimony about all you have done that is

  positive and good. Whistler and Emtrey came up with an

  analysis of the Krytos virus infection pattern and I can get

  experts up to show how your actions actually made it much

  milder than it could have been. And we're still looking for

  Lai Nootka."

  "So you're telling me that we need a miracle?"

  Nawara nodded. "I'd take one if you had one to offer,

  but then again, I wouldn't worry too much. Winning this

  trial is merely impossible, and we're Rogues. We'll get it

  done."

  Tycho sighed. "Or die trying."

  27

  "Ah, Commander Antilles, welcome." Admiral Ackbar

  stood as the man entered his office. "I apologize for the short

  notice, but time rolls away as the tide."

  "I came as quickly as I could, Admiral." Wedge gave the

  Mon Calamari a friendly smile. "It must be important."

  "It is. You're the first person outside the Provisional

  Council to hear this." The Mon Calamari opened his mouth

  in the closest approximation of a human smile he could mus-

  ter, hoping to put his visitor at ease. "The Xucphra faction

  on Thyferra has agreed to send us a substantial shipment of

  bacta. Your squadron--all of whom were called back to duty

  and are currently under a communications quarantine--will

  be sent out to meet the freighter convoy and bring it back

  here to Coruscant."

  "I see." Wedge's face took on a suitably grim expres-

  sion. "Aren't we a bit small to be protecting a convoy of,

  what, thirty ships?"

  "Twenty, actually. Most are small ships, like the Skate.

  We have a few larger ones going, but our hauling resources

  have never been abundant." Ackbar's chin fringes wriggled.

  "We are having to rely on stealth and secrecy to safeguard

  the shipment--and not by my choice. The whole matter of

  negotiations about all this bacta have become very delicate."

  Wedge raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

  "We never expected your visit to Ryloth would be kept

  secret, but the news of it traveled more quickly than we ex-

  pected. Apparently the Thyferrans know we obtained ryll

  from Ryloth. Some of the Thyferrans wanted to cut us off

  from bacta completely, pointing to your trip as an attempt to

  circumvent them. Cooler heads prevailed, so we're getting

  this shipment, but it is barely sufficient to keep people alive.

  If the basic combinations with ryll work, we might double

  the effective strength of what we have, but that's still not

  going to be enough to effect a final cure of the Krytos virus."

  Ackbar sighed as weariness washed over him. "While

  Xucphra officials are willing to send us the bacta to keep us

  paying them credits, they are very wary of advertising the

  fact that they're working with the New Republic. They only

  benefit from all this if they are able to sell bacta to all sides in

  the conflict. They want this convoy to appear to be a private

  enterprise--it was suggested that Mirax Terrik could take

  credit for it and profit from it. They will get the ships to our

  rendezvous point, then we take over. You'll ostensibly be on

  a training mission and offer the escort as a courtesy."

  Wedge frowned. "Rogue Squadron is a high-profile out-

  fit. We're bound to be watched. Why use us?"

  "You have a Thyferran." The Mon Calamari's lip

  fringes twitched. "It has been suggested that having Erisi and

  Rogue Squadron present to guide the ships back here to Co-

  ruscant would prove to the Thyferrans that we appreciate the

  risks they are taking."

  "Do I sense Borsk Fey'lya's furred hand in this?"

  "You do, though he was not alone in it." The Council

  meeting where this plan was floated seemed more difficult

  than any of the battles I've fought against the Empire. "The

  possibility of having our bacta supply cut off is causing peo-

  ple to take whatever steps they can think of to appease the

  Thyferrans."

  Wedge's eyes narrowed. "The big problem we have with

  the Thyferrans is that they could cut us off at any time."

  "They have the monopoly, so they can do that. The fact

  that ryll kor might make bacta more effective against this

  virus does not diminish our need for bacta. Before the Em-

  pire aided the Xucphra and Zaltin corporations in monopo-

  lizing the bacta trade, we might have been able to find other

  sources of bacta. Now we have no choice but to trade with

  them. While we could manufacture our own bacta, the start-

  up costs for a facility that could produce what we need

  would--well, I can't say it would bankrupt us, because the

  New Republic may already be over that line. And you didn't

  hear that from me." "No, sir."

  "So, Commander, you see our dilemma. We are depen-

  dent on the bacta cartel, yet our supply is shaky. Steps taken

  to secure our supply could anger the cartel--if those steps do

  not include them--or could anger our enemies enough that

  they strike at the cartel itself. Warlord Zsinj's Iron Fist could

  put a chill on convoy traffic and cause us significant trou-

  ble."

  "But they would stop shipping him bacta, too."

  "True, but his need for it is not as great or urgent as ours

  is."

  "Point taken."

  Ackbar shrugged. "As smugglers put it, we have all our

  spice in one freighter, and other solutions to the problem

  seem impossible. I know Rogue Squadron prides itself on

  doing the impossible, but 1 think this bacta problem is be-

  yond even your capabilities." "Perhaps, sir."

  Wedge's curious reply seemed tinged with deception, but

  Ackbar found it hard to believe Wedge would be involved in

  plotting. He has been spending a certain amount of time in

  General Cracke n's company, and Cracken's reportage to the

  Provisional Council has been handled by subordinates of

  late, but to combine those things into a plot would be leaping

  to a conclusion of Borskean proportions. Even so, it does

&nbs
p; seem rather plausible. "Do I take it you disagree with my

  assessment, Commander?"

  Wedge's shoulders shifted uneasily. "I would have to say

  I think you're probably correct, sir, but Rogue Squadron has

  done many things in the past that were thought impossible."

  Ackbar nodded. "You realize that anything you might

  do in this regard could have catastrophic results if the

  Thyferrans disapprove."

  "If I were involved in anything, sir, that would be fore-

  most in my mind."

  "Very good." Whatever you are doing, I wish you grand

  success. "General Cracken will be briefing your people. May

  the Force be with you--in all you do." Wedge smiled. "Thank you, sir."

  Ackbar hesitated, then his eyes shrank to demi-lunes.

  "Be careful, Commander. Billions of lives hang in the bal-

  ance. If something goes wrong, I doubt if even your status as

  the Conqueror of Coruscant will save you from becoming

  more reviled than Tycho Celchu."

  28

  Kirtan Loor stared at the glowing holographic text hanging

  in the air in front of him and found himself poised between

  unbridled terror and unbound elation. The message offered

  him a way out from beneath Fliry Vorru's thumb, but only if

  he took steps that could easily anger Ysanne Isard. Doing

  that could destroy him. But doing nothing clearly will de-

  stroy me.

  The text, after it had been decrypted and decoded, car-

  ried a simple yet explosive message. Twenty ships--New Re-

  public and privately owned freighters--would be traveling

  from Thyferra with a shipment of bacta bound for Imperial

  Center. Rogue Squadron was to meet them in the Alderaan

  system--as if all the bacta in the galaxy could heal that

  wound--and guide them in on the return trip to Imperial

  Center. The message contained the times and coordinates,

  easily allowing for the interception of the convoy.

  If he destroyed the convoy, he would advance the Impe-

  rial cause beyond even Ysanne Isard's wildest dreams. He

  had the means to do just that at his disposal. His e,qiier plans

  to substitute a look-alike group of fighters for Rogue Squad-

  ron and have them strafe the squadron's base required him

  to put together a full dozen X-wing fighters. They would be

  hawk-bats among granite slugs if he set them on the freight-

  ers. He was more than willing to do that, blasting every

  single freighter from the Pulsar Skate to the Rebels' Pride

  into free-floating atoms.

  He had only one problem he wasn't supposed to know

  what the message said.

  Imperial spies in service to the Rebellion had been given

  a variety of ways to make contact with their superiors. Cer-

  tain public terminals, for example, had special coding that

  routed messages along secure lines to specific destinations. A

  datadisk could be recorded and left in any number of blind-

  drops for pickup by agents. Face-to-face meetings could be

  and had been arranged, even with the highest profile agents

  around. Whatever was necessary to move information would

  be done.

  The Rebels were not without countermeasures, and they

  were effective when they wanted to stop information from

  getting out. Fortunately Coruscant was still more of an Impe-

  rial world than it was a Rebel one. While Rebel computer

  code experts had gone through the planetary computer sys-

  tem and shut down many of the most obvious stealthways

  into it, they had not found them all. The Rebels would

  clearly have preferred to avoid using the Imperial computers

  at all, but running Coruscant without them was impossible,

  so compromises were made.

  The Imperial agent in Rogue Squadron had resorted to

  one of the most simple stealthways in the system to get the

  message out. A coded message was created and saved as

  usual, then deleted. The command used to delete the message

  was a batch command, one commonly used to purge a

  month's worth of old messages at a time. When the com-

  puter asked for a date from which to begin the purge, the

  agent gave it the date and time, down to the second, the

  message had been created. The ending date for the purge was

  the same date and time.

  The deletion routine in the system took that information

  and began special processing. A copy of the message was

  whisked away to a randomly chosen memory sector and

  there encrypted. At the original memory location where the

  message had been stored, zeroes were written to erase all

  traces of the message, then corrupted copies of other docu-

  ments were written into its place. A scan of files would show

  documents and programs in the normal process of being

  overwritten.

  No trace of the coded message was left in its original

  location. The agent was safe.

  The encrypted message was transferred through a series

  of accounts and finally ended up on a datadisk that was

  dumped into a blind-drop. One of Loor's Special Intelligence

  operatives retrieved it and brought it to him. Loor himself

  decrypted and decoded it. He told himself he did so because

  messages from that agent had normally traveled directly to

  Ysanne Isard. The fact that he had ended up with a copy

  meant the normal channels of communication were closed

  and he wanted to make certain delays did not prevent action

  from being taken to capitalize on the information.

  Had I forwarded it to Iceheart blindly I would not be

  caugbt in tbis trap. Because the rendezvous would take place

  in less than three days, there was an open question as to

  whether the message would reach Isard in time for her to do

  anything about it. Loor felt fairly confident she would act to

  destroy the convoy, and his own squadron had enough fire-

  power to chew up the twenty-ship convoy with little prob-

  lem. A pair of proton torpedoes would destroy most of the

  freighters, which meant a full dozen could die in the first

  pass. Another volley of torpedoes would cripple or kill the

  others, and the X-wings could follow up with lasers to finish

  off the survivors.

  Probably not flasby enougb for ber, but if my X-wings

  were marked up to be Rogue Squadron sbips--and the news-

  nets bare been full of examples tbat making last-minute

  cbanges to matcb tbe paint jobs will be easy enougb--I can

  sow more discord and distrust between the people and tbe

  Rebel government. Icebeart would like that.

  The problem with doing just that, however, was that the

  operation did not help him eliminate Vorru as a threat. If,

  instead of destroying the convoy, he hijacked it to another

  system, he would have control of a very large shipment of a

  vital commodity. While Vorru had a solid lock on the bacta

  black market on Imperial Center, there were other worlds

  clamoring for the medicine. If he used his supply correctly he

  could enrich himself. He would betray Vorru to the Rebels--

  not to the government on Imperial Center, but to the constit-


  uent governments on the various Rebel homeworlds, thereby

  increasing distrust between them and the rulers on Imperial

  Center.

  Or I can enrich myself, buy a world all my own, and put

  Boba Fett on retainer to slay my enemies. That thought

  brought a smile to Loor's face. The list would not be long,

  but it would not be an easy one to complete. A fitting chal-

  lenge for a man with his skills.

  Loor closed his eyes and gently massaged them beneath

  his eyelids. As satisfying as enriching himself would be, he

  realized he had to be very careful. Killing Vorru and Isard

  would provide him short-term pleasure, but he had to be

  looking at his long-term position. His first step was to guar-

  antee his survival, his second to maximize his potential for

  power. Hijacking the bacta worked just as well to hurt the

  Rebellion as did destroying it, but it left him vulnerable to

  accusations by Isard that he wasn't devoting himself to his

  duty of destroying the Rebellion. She could easily see the

  hijacking as a move to make him independent of her, and she

  would not like that.

  I can always argue that I wanted to get out from under

  Vorru's influence and nothing more. He doubted that such

  an argument would insulate him from her anger and retribu-

  tion when she found out what he had done. And he knew she

  would find out--it was a question how much time he had

  until she did. If he could keep her in the dark for a month,

  either he would have gained enough power that he did not

  need to fear her, or she will have had me killed.

  He realized once again that only by escaping her could

  he possibly survive. This gives me no choice.

  He carefully began to compose a message. He told her of

  his intent to use the duplicate Rogue Squadron to "elimi-

  nate" the convoy. He would later argue that he would have

  said "destroy" if that's what he had meant to do. Time being

  of the essence, I can't give her the whole plan, I can merely

  let her know I am dealing with the problem.

  He scanned his message, then prepared it for sending.

  He almost sent it immediately, then hesitated. No, ifI send it

  now, she could possibly countermand my orders. I'll give her