“No, I guess it doesn’t, but your reaction to it does. If I were in your boots, I’d be angry and outraged.”
“That’s because you’ve never been a guest in the Empire’s correctional system.” Tycho sighed and Wedge read weariness in the way his shoulders sagged. “All the anger and outrage I can muster won’t get me out of here any faster, and it could get me in trouble.”
“But aren’t you angry about being imprisoned for something you didn’t do?”
“Yes.”
Wedge opened his hands. “Then why don’t you show it? You can’t keep it bottled up inside. It’ll tear you apart.”
Tycho took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Wedge, you’ve always been my friend and you’ve supported me with no questions asked, but what I’m enduring now is really no different than what I endured while being under house arrest. Sure, I can’t go flying, can’t head out to Borleias with Mirax to save Corran’s tail, and I’m not free to walk the streets of Coruscant as your hole card, but nothing has really changed. Since my capture by the Empire right here on Coruscant I’ve been their prisoner. I’ve never really escaped the Empire because they managed to make others suspicious of me. I was outraged then and have been since, but protesting wouldn’t do me any good. The only way I can be free, truly free, is for the Empire to be destroyed. I know, as it falls apart, someone somewhere will have the information that will set me free.”
“And if they don’t?”
Tycho cracked a smile. “You figured out a plan to take Coruscant away from the Empire. Springing a friend from prison shouldn’t be that hard for you to manage.”
Nawara Ven cleared his throat. “Let’s not be adding conspiracy to the charges against you.”
Tycho nodded. “As you wish, Counselor. How’s my defense going?”
“Good and bad.” Nawara Ven sat at the end of the table and a little green and white R2 unit rolled up beside him. “The best thing we have going for us right now is that Whistler here has joined our defense team.”
“But I’m accused of killing Corran Horn. He and Corran were partners. Why would he want to help defend me?”
The droid keened a reply.
Wedge smiled. “Ah, he did know Corran well.”
The Twi’lek nodded. “Well enough to decide Horn was wrong about you, Captain Celchu. If Horn was wrong about your being a traitor, that means someone else killed him. Since you’ve been framed for the murder, if Whistler does nothing to help you, he’s ensuring that his friend’s murderer is getting away. Having Whistler on the team is unbelievably useful because of the specialized circuitry and programming he has. It allows him to wade through a lot of law enforcement data, including Imperial files.”
Tycho shifted around in his chair, making his binders click against the edge of the table. “I hope the bad news doesn’t obliterate the good.”
Nawara’s braintails twitched lethargically. “Corran had reported to Commander Antilles that he saw you in the Headquarters talking to Kirtan Loor. You said you were speaking with,” Nawara glanced at his datapad, “a Duros Captain Lai Nootka.”
Tycho nodded. “Right. He flew a freighter called Star’s Delight. I was negotiating with him for spare parts for the Z-95 Headhunters I’d bought.”
“Well, no one can seem to find him or his ship. The prosecution can introduce ample evidence that Kirtan Loor was here on Coruscant, that Corran would have recognized him, and that knowing you were exposed, you had to take steps to cover yourself.”
Wedge frowned. “If the only way out of that trap is to find Nootka, we’ll find him.”
Whistler tooted a dour message.
Rogue Squadron’s commander rubbed his eyes for a moment to ease their burning. “Fine, fine, there are 247 unidentified bodies of Duros here on Coruscant, and the possibility exists that the Imps caught him, killed him, and dumped him so we’ll never find him. We can still try to find the ship. The log might have an entry in it about the meeting.”
Tycho gave Wedge a smile. “You’re more nervous than I am, Wedge.”
“That’s because I don’t think you understand what’s at stake here, Tycho.” Wedge got up and began to pace. “Your trial is going to go forward and go forward quickly. It’s going to be used to show that the New Republic can be just as hard on humans as the Empire was on non-humans. I have to tell you, if Nawara here weren’t already a lawyer, I’d be looking for the best non-human counsel I could find for you. The judges here are going to feel pressure to convict to seem fair; I want the fact that your defender is non-human to make them worry about how your being found guilty will look.”
“Captain, you might want to look into more competent counsel than me.”
Tycho shook his head. “No, Nawara, I want you. I’ve read your file and I know you. This is going to be hard enough without having a lawyer who wants the case for the notoriety.”
“Tycho’s right, we need you. The squadron is behind Tycho, and having you represent him means the rest of us don’t feel entirely impotent.” Wedge’s dark eyes narrowed. “Do you see a problem with defending him?”
The Twi’lek hesitated for a moment, then answered. “I’ve defended a lot of people in criminal cases, but the stakes have not been this high before, nor the opposition so tough. Emtrey knows all the regulations, so having him in court with me means I’ll have a good grasp on the differences between military law and civil law, but it would be better for you to have someone who doesn’t have to rely on a droid for that stuff. The fact that I was down with the first stages of Krytos during the alleged murder means I can’t be called as a witness of fact in the case—at least, I’d not call me, but the prosecution might have other ideas.”
He tapped a button on his datapad. “The prosecutor is Commander Halla Ettyk. She’s 34 years old and from Alderaan. She had gained quite a reputation as a prosecutor there and happened to be off Alderaan to depose a witness in a case when Alderaan was destroyed. She joined the Rebellion and was part of General Cracken’s counterintelligence staff. She may not have prosecuted any cases over the last seven years, but that’s not going to dull her skills. Captain, you don’t happen to know her or have a family vendetta with her family or anything that could let me suggest she has a conflict of interest, do you?”
“Nothing, sorry.”
“What about the tribunal?” Wedge stopped pacing, crossed his arms, and looked down at the Twi’lek. “The subpoena I was served with yesterday indicated General Salm, Admiral Ackbar, and General Crix Madine were going to serve as judges. Salm has never liked Tycho. Can’t you get him removed?”
“Trying to get him replaced is tricky. If he does not recuse himself, he clearly thinks he has no conflict of interest. If we suggest he does and we fail to remove him, we’ve poisoned him. The other thing to keep in mind is that Salm was present at the first battle of Borleias and saw Tycho flying an unarmed shuttle and rescuing pilots, including me. He’s got to weigh what he remembers against the evidence he hears, and we’ll be sure to remind him of Borleias.”
Tycho nodded. “I’m willing to take my chances with Salm. What do you think of the other two?”
The Twi’lek shrugged. “Ackbar agreed to have you serve as Rogue Squadron’s executive officer and has remained neutral regarding this prosecution. Crix Madine came over from the Imperial side around the same time you did, Captain. Given his work planning covert missions for the Empire, I would have to guess he has met Iceheart and is aware of the work she has done. He knows of your reputation and, being a Corellian like Commander Antilles, has an appreciation of bravery and audacity.”
“You’re forgetting, Counselor Ven, that Corran Horn was Corellian, too.”
“No, Commander, I’ve not forgotten that fact. I’m counting on it to motivate General Madine to seek the people truly responsible for Corran’s death.”
Wedge nodded. “So that’s the line of defense: Tycho’s been framed?”
“The truth always is the best defense. Their evidence is
all circumstantial, so we can slip someone or several someones in to raise doubt about who actually committed the crime.” Nawara Ven pressed his hands flat on the table. “This trial will be played as much to public opinion as to the judges. It’s going to do no good if the people think Captain Celchu is guilty while the court lets him off. Everyone knows how twisted and full of plots the Empire was. The mention of Kirtan Loor and Lusankya allows us to bring up Ysanne Isard. I can show that Captain Celchu’s pattern of activity is all wrong by showing what Isard does do with her people. I can even point to the bombing as likely residue of her evil. If we have public opinion looking at Captain Celchu as the last victim of Imperial intrigue, a Rebellion hero being destroyed by a bitter and vengeful Empire, we have a lot of maneuvering room in the aftermath of the trial.”
Nawara Ven’s explanation made sense to Wedge, but he didn’t like all it entailed. Fighting enemies who were shooting back was one thing. Winning a court case was quite another—one akin to politics, and Wedge knew he’d utterly failed in that arena at the Council meeting. Waging a public relations war to win the hearts and minds of a planet for a man who was already being entered into the pantheon of evil with Darth Vader, Prince Xizor, Ysanne Isard, and the Emperor himself—well, that was a battle no one could consider easy.
Wedge nodded toward the lawyer. “What happens if Tycho is found guilty?”
“Hard to say. There’s no clear appeals system set up. Unless the judges reverse their decision, he’ll be stuck.”
Tycho raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by stuck?”
“This is treason, Captain, and murder.” Nawara Ven shook his head as Whistler moaned. “Given the mood of the people and the nature of your crime, if we lose, the New Republic will put you to death.”
Chapter Five
As Wedge entered the darkened briefing room, the pilots of Rogue Squadron broke from the knot surrounding Nawara Ven and took their places. Some of their expressions were difficult to read. Riv Shiel, the Shistavanen wolfman, wore his perpetual impenetrable frown. Gavin Darklighter, the youngest of the pilots in Rogue Squadron, seemed fairly cheerful, but the hardness of the flesh gathered at the corners of his eyes betrayed the pressure most of the rest of the unit felt.
Wedge stepped behind and past Aril Nunb, then paused with the holoprojection table in front of him. “I appreciate your getting here so quickly. I had hoped we’d get at least a week’s liberty after the conquest of Coruscant…”
The fiery-haired lieutenant in the front row, Pash Cracken, shrugged. “We’ve not had that much to celebrate, sir.”
“I know.” Corran’s death, then Tycho’s arrest, had undercut the Rogues when they should have been enjoying their greatest triumph. While everyone else on Coruscant was jubilant about the world’s liberation, the Rogues felt still enslaved by Tycho’s plight. The contrast between the congratulations they got from others and the way they felt inside remained sharp enough to slice them up emotionally. To save themselves, the squadron members had rallied around Tycho and were determined to prove his innocence. That provided them a sanctuary and sense of control, though it did nothing to endear them to others who thought Tycho’s guilt was indisputable.
“The one thing we do know, people, is that the source of our problems lies on the Imp side of things. We should also realize that what we’re suffering is nothing compared to what hundreds of thousands of people out there are suffering.” Wedge pointed a finger toward Nawara and Riv Shiel, then glanced back at Aril Nunb. “Three of our own came down with this Krytos virus, but they got quick treatment with enough bacta to knock it out. Bacta is in high demand right now, but supplies are very short.”
Erisi Dlarit, the dark-haired pilot from Thyferra, pressed a hand to her own sternum. “I know the cartels are producing as much as they can—at least the Xucphra group is. I have personally sent messages to my grandfather to let him know of the need for bacta here.”
“Thanks, Erisi, every bit of help we can get is vital.” Wedge folded his arms across his chest. “Warlord Zsinj hit a bacta convoy heading out from Thyferra. I believe it was from the Zaltin group, Erisi, not your family’s corporation. Zsinj took the bacta to a storage facility, but a member of the Ashern rebel group…”
“Terrorists!” Erisi spat.
“…happened to be crewing aboard the Zaltin ships. He managed to get a message out concerning the location of the space station Zsinj is using.” Wedge nodded toward Aril, and the Sullustan punched up a holographic image of the station on the holoprojector. The station consisted of a central disk with thick expanses of living quarters above and below the horizon. Slender towers rose from the middle of the disk, suggesting the station had been impaled on spears. Three wedge-shaped launch-and-recovery causeways stabbed out into space from the central disk like spokes meant to connect up with a nonexistent rim.
“This is an Empress-class space station located in the Yag’Dhul system. Basic armament is ten turbo-laser batteries and six laser cannons. It also has the capability of housing up to three squadrons of TIEs, though the usual complement is only two dozen fighters. The bacta is being held here, and we’re going to get it away from them.”
As Wedge continued his briefing, little glowing icons appeared to hover around the station. Each represented a ship and entered the display as its part in the operation was explained. “We will be leading two squadrons from General Salm’s Defender Wing to pull a quick strafing run on the station and get them to scramble their fighters. The squadrons we’ll have with us are Warden and Champion—you remember them, they saved us at Borleias.”
The Gand toward the back raised a three-fingered hand. “As Ooryl remembers it, Commander Antilles, Defender Wing flies Y-wing fighters. Provoking TIE fighters to come out and attack Y-wings would seem to Ooryl as potentially dangerous for Defender’s pilots.”
“Your concern is noted, Ooryl, and has been taken into account. Guardian Squadron, the third of Defender Wing’s component parts, has been refitted with B-wings. This adds considerable firepower to the wing. We’ll pull the TIEs out and away from the station and the B-wings will drop on them and help us kill them. The Y-wings will continue in toward the space station and start working on its defenses with their ion cannons.
“Following us in will be a half-dozen assault shuttles and then enough bulk-cruisers to haul the bacta away. This is a hit, hold, then run operation.”
Gavin smiled. “Sounds like a dew-run.”
“Maybe.” Pash Cracken leaned forward in his chair. “Where’s the Iron Fist supposed to be?”
Wedge shook his head. “I’ve been given no data concerning the Iron Fist.” Warlord Zsinj’s flagship was one of the Super-class Star Destroyers created by the Kuat Drive Yard’s shipworks before the Empire collapsed. The ships were, for all intents and purposes, fleets unto themselves. They carried 144 fighters, had a crew of over a quarter of a million people, and bristled with over a thousand missile launchers, ion cannons, and turbolaser batteries. Though the Rebel fleet had managed to destroy the Executor at Endor, everyone knew that ship had died because of luck, not skill.
If the Iron Fist showed up at Yag’Dhul, the operation was doomed. Wedge knew it, as did all of the pilots in the room. “While I am as concerned about the appearance of Iron Fist as any of you, I know the bacta is too valuable to risk on an operation that could be so easily jeopardized. I have to assume that Intelligence has the Iron Fist located and that it won’t interfere with the mission. If it does show up, all we can do is pull out.” And hope no one gets left behind.
Rhysati Ynr, the blond woman sitting next to Nawara Ven, raised her hand. “Do we just fly cover when the assault shuttles go in, or are we going to land and go in-station, too?”
“Right now we’re just flying cover. If things change, you’ll be the first to know.” Wedge sighed. “We’re heading out in twelve hours, so you’re now all under security quarantine. Report to your quarters, get your gear, and go to the hangar. Once there you’ll get a mo
re specific briefing and run through a basic simulation of the exercise before we leave. Any other questions?”
Gavin looked around nervously, then nodded. “Sir, won’t Nawara’s heading out on a mission compromise Captain Celchu’s defense? I mean, shouldn’t Nawara be here setting things up?”
A question I asked myself. “Your concerns, Gavin, are valid, but not terribly important in the face of what we’re doing here. We’re already one pilot light because of Corran’s death, so we need everyone we can get. The fact is that obtaining the bacta is far more important to the future of the New Republic than Tycho’s trial, so that is our priority.”
“Besides, I have Whistler and Emtrey doing a lot of computer fact-finding for me right now.” Nawara sat forward and slapped Gavin on the shoulder. “The lawyering part of all this comes later. It occurs to me that if we do get the bacta and things begin to calm down, someone might start listening to reason instead of political pressure, and this case will be dumped in some black hole, where it deserves to be.”
“May the Force be with you in that regard.” Wedge smiled openly. “If that’s it, get going. Everyone should be in the hangar in an hour at the very latest.”
As the pilots started to leave the room, Wedge caught the eye of a black-and-white-furred Bothan female. “Sei’lar, if I could have a moment of your time.”
“Yes, Commander.”
He watched Asyr as she waited for the others to leave, then walked toward him. There was no overt challenge in her stride, though the fire in her violet eyes did reveal a strong streak of Bothan pride running in her. Splotches of white fur covered her from throat to belly, gloved her, and slashed down from her forehead over her left eye to her cheek. They almost succeeded in diluting the predatory power in her petite frame. She stopped before him and snapped to attention.
“At ease, Sei’lar.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You might want to reserve your thanks until you’ve heard what I have to say.” Wedge looked down on her and saw her fur ripple with irritation. “Two things I want to discuss. The first is Gavin.”