The Krytos Trap
Wedge brought the X-wing up on its port stabilizers and dove after the TIE. Just as the pilot began to regain control, slowing his spin, Rogue Squadron’s leader tightened up on his trigger. A quad burst of laserfire blasted the port solar panel off the fighter. The TIE began to tumble uncontrollably toward the ground, but before it could descend into the black bowels of Coruscant, it bounced off an aerial walkway and exploded.
Pulling back on his stick, Wedge nosed his fighter toward the sky. He wanted to feel some remorse for the pilots he’d just killed. He waited for concern to bubble up in him for the people who could have been hurt when those TIEs fell into the city below. He wanted something other than cold concentration filling him, but he didn’t expect it to come. Those thoughts and emotions are normal, but normal doesn’t exist at this place and time.
All around him TIEs and the X-wings of Rogue Squadron swooped and climbed, rolled, dove, and looped. Laser-bolts, green and red, filled the air as if each fighter was a renegade cloud spitting abbreviated lightning bolts at its enemies. TIEs exploded with regularity, showering the cityscape with half-molten bits of metal and staining the sky with oily black streaks that were the mortal remains of their pilots.
As exciting and dramatic as the dogfight raging above the mountain district was, Wedge remained cold and in shock. Out there a white needle stabbed skyward. The Lusankya—a Super Star Destroyer eight kilometers in length—laid waste to the area beneath which it had lain buried for years. Green turbolaser bolts pounded the cityscape, freeing the ship from the ferrocrete and transparisteel prison in which it had laired.
Wedge knew Super Star Destroyers had only come into service after the Battle of Yavin, which meant the Lusankya had to have been created and hidden on Coruscant before the battle of Endor. Unless the constructor droids just built it there, then built over it. The idea that a hundred-square-kilometer area of the planet could have been razed and rebuilt to hide a Super Star Destroyer seemed beyond belief, especially with no one noticing the ship’s insertion into the hole. Could the Emperor’s power through the dark side of the Force have been sufficient to compel thousands or millions of people to forget having seen the Lusankya being buried?
As hideous as that idea seemed, Wedge hoped it was the truth. The likely alternative—that the Emperor had ordered the deaths of all the witnesses—seemed that much more horrible.
“Lead, you have a squint coming up from below.”
“Thanks, Five.” Wedge rolled to port, then dove into a looping roll that took him out and around the Interceptor’s attack vector. He let his dive carry him down into the upper reaches of the city. Using control telemetry from a skyhook to keep track of the squint, he cut around one of the star-raking spires and came up at it on a nearly vertical run.
It started to roll to elude him, but a little left rudder kept his lasers tracking. Half the quad burst missed, shooting past the cockpit windscreen, but the other two bolts hid dead on. They cored through the Interceptor’s starboard solar panel and pierced the cockpit. The squint continued its lazy roll, then tightened it into a spin that sped the ship in an ugly, squared-off tower.
Out to the south the Lusankya’s aft came free of the planet. The superstructure of the Super Star Destroyer and its general outline fit with what he remembered of Vader’s Executor at Hoth and Endor, but the Lusankya hull appeared to be resting on a massive platform made up of hexagonal cells. It fit the bottom of the starship perfectly, with openings in the hexagonal field so weapons could fire down at targets below and TIE fighters could launch from the ship’s belly.
Wedge frowned. What is that? It reminds me of a Hutt’s repulsor-lift couch, hut the Lusankya is a warship, not a lounging crime boss. Suddenly he realized his analogy wasn’t that far off. The Lusankya is built for space travel, not fighting its way free of a planet. That must be a lift-cradle designed to get it up and out of the hole in which it was entombed.
With the prow stabbing up into the sky, the Lusankya’s thrusters ignited. Searing blue plasma vaporized huge chunks of cityscape beneath the ship’s aft end. The destroyer began to move forward and upward out of the column of smoke that marked its birth. A ship that boasts a crew of over a quarter of a million individuals must have killed ten times that many lifting off.
The massive ship turned its attention on a skyhook floating off its starboard bow. Altering course slightly, the ship gave more of its turbolasers and ion cannons a chance to bear. A Super Star Destroyer possessed enough weaponry to reduce a city to rubble from an orbital assault. At point-blank range, the weaponless skyhook offered the gunners a deliciously easy target.
The turbolaser batteries in the bow started firing at the skyhook as they came into range, then the broadside assault shifted to other weapons as the ship slid past. The verdant laser-bolts came so fast and so close that whole sheets of energy seemed to pulse from the Lusankya to the skyhook. In seconds what had once been an elegant disk with an Ithorian jungle paradise at its heart became a melted demilune with a forest fire crashing into the mountain district’s towers.
As the Lusankya picked up speed, the gunners shifted their aimpoints and began firing at the upper atmosphere. Their shots hit and splashed color into the lower of the two shield spheres encasing the planet. Created to stop starship assaults from without, they proved just as powerful against an attack from within. Even so, after twenty seconds of the Lusankya’s withering barrage, a hole opened in the lower shield.
The TIEs fighting Rogue Squadron turned and launched themselves on an intercept course for the Super Star Destroyer. Because they were not capable of entering hyper-space themselves, if they did not rendezvous with the Lusankya, they would be stuck on Coruscant. Those who weren’t shot down would be taken prisoner. And if my ship had done that much damage heading out, I’d not be expecting very gentle treatment at the hands of my enemies, either.
“Mynock, give me the range to the Lusankya.”
The droid centered an image of the Lusankya on Wedge’s monitor, and the rangefinder showed it to be 25 kilometers distant. And it still looks that big. A shiver ran down his spine.
“Rogues, form up on me. We have three minutes at speed before we’re right on top of the SSD. Let’s harvest those remaining TIEs before she gets a chance to recover them.” Wedge waited a few seconds for the cries and shouts of assent to die down. “Remember, that thing is bristling with turbolasers, ion cannons, concussion missile launchers, and tractor beams. When I call, you break off your attacks. Got it?”
Wedge fed shield power into his engines, boosting his speed. He saw Asyr pull up on his starboard stabilizer foil. “No heroics, Flight Officer Sei’lar, I want to return that datacard to you.”
“As ordered, Commander.”
Wedge glanced at his monitor and then the TIE they were closing on fast. “I have your back. He’s yours.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Asyr’s X-wing pulled ahead, then sideslipped down and to port. She stayed below and behind the TIE fighter until she’d closed the range to within 250 meters, then she nosed her ship up into the eyeball’s exhaust. The X-wing’s lasers fired two dual offset bursts. The first grazed the inside of the port solar panel, burning two long streaks along it. The second pair of bolts stabbed in through the exhaust ports. The whole eyeball shuddered, then silvery fire jetted out through the forward cockpit canopy, killing the ship’s momentum.
The dead TIE dropped from sight with the grace of a Hutt in freefall.
“Nice shooting, Deuce.”
“Thanks, Lead.”
Wedge glanced at the Chronographic readout on his monitor. “Two-point-five minutes to range. Mynock, give me a warning at thirty seconds.”
The Lusankya continued to pour fire into the planetary shields while what little ground fire that came up at it splashed harmlessly on its shields. The midship and stern guns fought to keep the hole in the lower shield open while the bow guns blasted away at the upper shield. The ship’s assault sent waves of Rodian green energy skitteri
ng along the underside of the shields. The shields held at first, then began to erode, and finally collapsed.
Cutting his stick to the right, Wedge followed Asyr through a banking turn that put her on a pair of TIEs. “I have the leader, Commander.”
“I copy. I’ll pick up the tail, Deuce.” He widened the separation between them, then cut back hard to port as the TIEs broke and Asyr came around in a looping turn that slipped her in behind the lead TIE. She fired and melted off a third of the TIE’s starboard solar panel.
“Break left, Deuce!”
Asyr rolled to port as the second TIE fired. Its first shots splashed harmlessly on the X-wing’s aft shields, but the subsequent ones went wide. The eyeball rolled to follow Asyr, but as he leveled out he drifted straight into Wedge’s sights. One burst of scarlet laserfire and the eyeball disintegrated into one long, flaming streak in the sky.
Mynock gave Wedge the 30-second warning tone. “Break off, Rogues. The rest are just running.” It looked like a half-dozen of the TIEs had survived the battle. As a screening force they’d done their jobs and kept local fighters off the Lusankya while it emerged. While it was trapped beneath the city I bet it couldn’t power its shields up. Without them, a concentrated volley of proton torpedoes might have been able to breech the hull, disable that lift shell, or destroy the bridge.
Wedge glanced at his sensor display. “Four, this is Rogue Leader. Break off pursuit.”
“Just a couple seconds more.”
“Four, break off, now!”
“I’ve almost got him, Lead.”
“You’re too close, Four. Break off immediately!”
Erisi’s X-wing fired a quad burst that caught an Interceptor on the starboard solar panel and right side of the cockpit. Something at the rear of the craft exploded, then seconds later the whole Interceptor came apart. A huge golden-red ball blossomed in front of Erisi’s X-wing, then imploded into black smoke as she flew through it.
“Report, Four.”
“I got him, Lead.”
“And got crisped. Get back here.”
Fear injected itself into her voice. “Rudder’s gone, stick’s sluggish.”
“Erisi, you’re too close to the Lusankya. Get out of there.” Wedge brought his X-wing around to the left in a long, orbiting loop. “Mynock, pull status data from her R5 unit, now.” He keyed his comm unit. “Erisi, roll and dive. Gravity is your friend.”
“As ordered. No, wait.” A wail as frightening as any Mynock had ever made shot through the comm unit. “They have a tractor beam on me. I’m at full thrust, but I can’t break loose. Help me, help me!”
Pulling back on the stick, Wedge came up and pointed the nose of his fighter at the Lusankya. The big ship hung like a sliver of ice stabbed deep into the morning sky. He thought he could see Erisi’s X-wing as a little speck against the Super Star Destroyer’s bulk, but a sheet of turbolaser fire heading back toward him eclipsed her.
Hugging the stick to his chest, Wedge brought the X-wing over the top and pointed it back toward the planet. “On me, Rogues. We’re going home.”
“But, Lead, we can’t just leave her—”
“Enough, Gavin. That’s a Super Star Destroyer. It’s impossible to stop if it doesn’t want to be stopped.”
“But impossible is—”
“I know, Rogues, I know.” Wedge glanced at his monitor and let the cold shiver running up his spine bleed into his voice. “Impossible is what Rogue Squadron does, but right now that would cost us too much for too little gain. Just because we can do the impossible doesn’t mean we always win.”
Chapter Fourty-Four
Corran Horn mustered a smile in response to Admiral Ackbar’s blinking expression of disbelief. “If someone is inclined to call me as a witness, I think I can shed some light on the murder charges against Captain Celchu.”
The Mon Calamari’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, then he nodded toward the prosecution table. “Perhaps, Commander Ettyk, the prosecution would like to reopen its case?”
The dark-haired prosecutor nodded. “Thank you, sir. We call Corran Horn.”
Corran limped his way up toward the front of the court. He placed his blaster carbine on the prosecution table, then turned and approached the defense table. He squatted down beside Whistler and wiped a speck of dust from his optical lens. “Thanks for guiding me in here, Whistler. Without you, I’ve been lost.”
The droid hooted softly, then opened the storage compartment in his dome. Corran reached in and pulled out his own unblemished Jedi medallion and the gold chain from which it hung. Corran fastened it around his neck, then fished the ruined medallion from his pocket and put it into the storage compartment. “Not quite a fair trade, my friend, but I’ll make it up to you.”
Coming up from his crouch, Corran looked over at Tycho. He nodded and lowered his voice into a whisper. “I owe you an apology, a huge apology, and a debt I can never repay. All this is my fault, and I’m sorry I caused you to go through it.”
“You’re wrong, Corran.” Tycho shook his head. “You were manipulated by the Empire. So was I, so was everyone here. I’ll accept your apology, but I won’t acknowledge your debt.”
“I’ll still pay it, or at least make a down payment on it.”
Tycho smiled. “Getting the murder charge removed from the indictment is a good start.”
“I can do much better. Watch me.” Corran nodded, then dropped a hand on Emtrey’s left shoulder. He bent in close to the droid’s aural sensors and kept his voice low. “Emtrey, say nothing. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”
The droid’s head swiveled around to look at him. “Sir, I understood the first request. Quadruple redundancy in orders is hardly required in my case.”
Fixed you, have they, Emtrey? That’s it, then, the last piece falls into place. Corran straightened up and shot General Cracken a quick nod. Turning back toward the front of the courtroom, Corran bowed his head to the Tribunal. “My apologies to the court, but there were things that needed saying.”
Ackbar nodded. “Understood.”
General Salm frowned. “Lieutenant Horn, I have to ask, how did you get here?”
“I started, at least this morning, from the Museum next door. Big metal doors sealed the aerial tunnel between the buildings, but, well,” he said, brandishing the lightsaber, “you’d be amazed how effective these things are in opening doors. Your security personnel were stationed at the more accessible entry points, so I made it here without any other trouble.”
Salm frowned. “I appreciate the critique of our security, but I meant the question in a more general sense. You, ah, are dead.”
Corran limped his way into the witness box. “I think you’ll want me sworn before I answer that question. It won’t make the answer any more believable, but it’ll give you some peace of mind.”
A bailiff swore Corran in and Halla Ettyk approached him cautiously, as if he were radioactive. “I hardly know where to begin. Perhaps you can tell the court what has transpired since you were reported dead.”
“Sure.” Corran took a deep breath, then started. “I’m certain General Cracken will debrief me, and some of what I have to say probably shouldn’t be said in open court, but I’ll try to keep it cogent and coherent.”
Ackbar nodded down at him. “Your discretion is appreciated.”
“Yes, sir.” Corran smiled at the prosecutor. “To answer your question, Commander, I was captured by Imperial Intelligence and taken to Lusankya. Ysanne Isard wanted to do to me what she tried to do to Captain Celchu: make me into an agent who would do her bidding when and where she wanted.”
Halla frowned. “You said she wanted to do to you ‘what she tried to do to Captain Celchu.’ Don’t you mean she wanted to do to you what she did to Captain Celchu?”
Corran blushed. “I thought, for the longest time, that she had programmed Captain Celchu and that his lack of memory about Lusankya was a blind to keep his Imperial ties hidden. The fact is, however, that his
amnesia about Lusankya is not uncommon among those who wash out of Isard’s indoctrination program. Other prisoners at Lusankya remembered Captain Celchu as being a sleeper—their term for someone who is rendered catatonic by the indoctrination process. I didn’t become a sleeper. Later I had a chance to access computer files about prisoners at Lusankya. I reviewed my own file and then I called up Captain Celchu’s file. I wanted it as proof that he was one of Isard’s creatures, but he had the same susceptibility rating I did, which is to say that he had no susceptibility to her techniques at all. As far as she was concerned, we were as dense as duracrete.”
“But his file could have been altered and left there for you to discover it.”
“Possible, but not likely for two reasons.” Corran held up two fingers. “First, the datapad I used to access the files was in a secure area that provided me with access to a working blaster and the means to go from Lusankya to here. Given the precautions Isard took to hide the location of Lusankya when I went in, I doubt any prisoner was meant to have access to that area. Second, at the time I accessed the files, Isard had no way of knowing I was in a position to access them. She believed another prisoner had escaped, not me, so any ruse would have been designed to ensnare him, not me.”
Halla hesitated, concentration sinking her brown eyes into shadow. “That notwithstanding, we have to take into consideration the possibility that you might have been turned and are here so that both you and Captain Celchu could be put into positions of trust in the future.”
“True, but the fact is that once the shadow of suspicion was lifted from Tycho, I was able to eliminate him as possibly being the traitor in the unit. If he is taken out of the hologram, there is only one other logical candidate for that position.”
Before Corran could reveal the traitor’s identity, a soldier burst through the courtroom doors and ran over to General Cracken. He said something quickly and urgently to the Alliance Intelligence chief. Cracken shot to his feet and pointed at Corran. “Lieutenant Horn, I order you to say nothing more at this time. Admiral Ackbar, we need to use the adjoining jury room, now!”