Star Wars - X-Wing - The Bacta War

  diaphanous red gown swirled around her like a tornado. "You should have

  anticipated this sort of strike and taken steps to prevent it."

  Vorru waved her suggestion away. "I did anticipate it and chose to ignore it.

  The amount of bacta taken was insignificant in comparison to both our supply

  and the demand for it. In fact, the loss of that bacta has provided me an excuse

  for hiking prices yet again, increasing our profits. I calculate our losses at

  between seventeen and thirty billion creditsan amount I will recoup by the end

  of the month."

  "Bah! We lost more than just money when Antilles hit our convoy. We lost

  prestige and respect." She pointed a hand toward the sky. "We have people out

  there laughing at us because a dozen aging snubfighters were able to pirate

  bacta from us."

  Vorru let his voice sink into a bass growl as he began to pace through her roomy

  office. "What we lost was insignificant and provides us an opportunity to cut

  Antilles off from his base of support. He stole the bacta and made a present of

  it to many of the worlds it was meant for anyway."

  "My point exactly. He has earned their goodwill."

  "But that will fade to bitterness when he cannot repeat his gesture." Vorru's

  splayed out fingers closed into a fist. "First, we will cut allotments to worlds

  to cover our losses. Second, we will delay shipments to worlds that accepted

  bacta from Antilles; and third, we will demand payment from those worlds as if

  the delivery had been made by Antilles on our behalf. Delinquent accounts will

  receive no more service from us."

  Molten fury flowed through Isard's left eye. "You're giving me bookkeeping. I

  want blood."

  Of course you do. Vorru's features sharpened. While Isard had been on Imperial

  Centereven hidden away after the Rebel conquesther connection to that center

  of power had anchored her. She had been patient and prepared to be subtle. Here,

  on Thyferra, where the omnipresence of plant life and the languid lifestyle of

  the human masters of the planet made it the antithesis of Imperial Center, Isard

  seemed prepared to indulge her more primal urges.

  "Please, Madam Director, reflect for a moment on how our current position

  mirrors "that of the Empire prior to the death of our beloved Emperor. The Rebel

  attacks are tiny and really insignificant in every way, except as strikes

  against our prestige and image. You yourself have often said that destroying

  the Rebellion must come before the rebuilding of the Empire, and in this you

  have correctly focused on the core of the problem. This problem we face still

  because Antilles opposes us and must be destroyed."

  Vorru opened his hands and spread them. "Our problems in dealing with him are

  significant at this point. We do not know where he is, so mounting a strike

  against him is impossible."

  Isard folded her arms over her chest. "We will begin operations to locate him."

  "Of course. I have already begun to spread word through the various smuggling

  networks and criminal organizations offering a substantial reward for reports on

  his operations. They will bear fruit soon, I am certain." Vorru allowed himself

  a smile. "Until then, by manipulating the price and supply of bacta to punish

  those who deal with him, we can vilify him and cut him off from his bases of

  support. To wage his little war against us, he needs supplies and allies. If

  Antilles were not who he is, we would consider him of no more importance than a

  pirate."

  Isard raised a clenched fist. "I would still take steps to crush him. I will

  have my ships fly cover missions for our convoys."

  Vorru hissed as if he'd been stung. "Be careful, Madam Director."

  "You caution me? Don't overstep your bounds, Vorru, or you will be dealt with."

  "I recall the fate of Kirtan Loor, Madam Director, and I have no desire to be

  trapped in the belly of the Lusankya." Vorru raised his open hands. "I merely

  wish to point out that if we accept full responsibility for the protection of

  our convoys, then Antilles will be our problem alone. This means our resources

  will be spread too far and will be too diluted to deal with him and his people."

  Isard's chin came up. "You have an alternate proposal?"

  "Certainly. We require the customers to protect our deliveries to their worlds,

  otherwise we deem their worlds too dangerous for shipments. We bring our convoys

  to certain destinations and demand our customers meet us and complete their

  journeys by themselves. If Antilles and his people hit them after the tankers

  leave our protection, they will anger a neutral party to their dispute. The

  Rogues will fight people other than our pilots, saving us personnel and

  equipment, both of which we no longer have in an unlimited sup-

  p'y-"

  Isard's right eyebrow arched. "This would also save us on shipping costs,

  increasing our profits yet again."

  "True. It also allows us to prepare an ambush for the Rogues at a time and place

  of our choosing. Mind you, this

  will be later as opposed to sooner because we need time to let Antilles's

  actions utterly destroy his reputation. We want him to be cut off, with nowhere

  to hide, when we move to eliminate him."

  Isard pursed her lips as she considered what he said, giving him more of a

  visual indicator of her mood than he had ever seen before. "The steps you are

  taking have merit, though the delay they necessitate annoys me. Finding myself

  impatient is also annoying. Antilles has managed to survive and even prosper

  during the time I should have dealt with him. Horn escaped from the Lusankya.

  Both of them, and their companions, have chosen to oppose me directly and

  openly, which has robbed me of the detachment I had when dealing with the Rebel

  opposition to the Emperor."

  Vorru inclined his head slightly, impressed by her self-analysis. She is loath

  to entertain fantasies about herself or her situation, no matter how inviting

  they might, in fact, seem. She has not lost her mind . . . yet. Whether or not

  she will is another thing.

  Isard stared off over Vorru's head. "The flaw Rogue Squadron has, a flaw the

  Rebellion has, is the fact that they have been able to overcome all the

  challenges thrown at them. Not since the days of Derra IV and Hoth have they

  known defeat. They are accustomed to winning, and this self-pride can be used

  against them." She nodded once, then focused on him. "Carry on, Vorru, continue

  your scheming. I will let them become accustomed to dealing with you and your

  methods, so when I strike, the surprise alone will be enough to kill them."

  Wedge stood up behind his desk as Booster Terrik's bulky form filled the doorway

  to the station manager's office. "I appreciate your coming here so quickly,

  Booster. I know you wanted to spend some time with Mirax before she heads out."

  The older man shrugged. "She's helping prep this Horn for his part in the

  mission. There's only so much of him I can

  take." Booster plopped himself down in a steel-frame canvas chair. "I think she

  took up with him to annoy me."

  Wedge laughed and sat back down. "I'm sure it does seem like that, but I think

  there's a lot more there.
"

  "CorSec has always wanted to steal our women."

  Wedge arched an eyebrow in Booster's direction. "You can impart whatever motives

  you want to Corran, but you know your daughter better than that, my friend."

  Booster frowned. "He's using those Jedi sorceries to addle her mind."

  "The only person confused about his Jedi heritage is Corran." Wedge shook his

  head. "Luke Skywalker has been transmitting material about the Jedi to him to

  keep alive the possibility that Corran will train to become a Jedi, but

  Corran's a bit focused right now on getting at Isard and freeing her prisoners.

  He's almost obsessive about ita trait you know something about."

  Booster planted his massive hands on the arms of the chair. "If you want to

  scold me about disapproving of the man my daughter is seeing, the message is

  received. Anything else?"

  "That wasn't my intentionthat would be like teaching a rancor to dance. It

  probably won't work, you will get your head bitten off, and even if you do

  succeed, the result won't be very pretty." Wedge shivered. "Actually, I wanted

  to offer you the chance to pilot the Mimban Cloudrider on the run to Thyferra."

  Booster sat back and brushed the fingertips of his left hand over his chin. The

  Mimban Cloudrider was one of the Thyferran tankers. Wedge had pulled the crew

  from it and, with Booster's help, had gotten identification files sliced

  together that listed Mirax, Corran, Elscol, Sixtus, and Iella Wessiri as the

  crew under various pseudonyms. Once in orbit at Thyferra, they could make

  planetfall in a shuttle and hook up with the Ashern. Wedge still needed someone

  to command the mission and thought Booster would be invaluable in that position

  because of his experience and instincts.

  Booster lowered his left hand to the arm of the chair. "No."

  "No? You'll be able to chaperone your daughter."

  "She can take care of herself."

  "You'll get to pilot a ship again."

  Booster smiled and his body convulsed with silent laughter. "Closer, but still

  off the mark. The Cloudrider is too small. Too little to do."

  Wedge frowned. "Wait a minute. When I got my freighter and started hauling

  cargo, weren't you the one who told me that being the master of my own ship and

  fate was the greatest thing to which I could aspire?"

  Booster nodded and sat forward. "I did, but that was before Kessel. Five years

  in the spice mines changed me."

  "Five years spicing would change anyone." Wedge frowned. "Don't tell me Kessel

  broke your spirit, because I flat refuse to believe it."

  Booster's booming laughter filled the office. "Broke me? It would take more than

  no air and lots of work to break Booster Terrik. The mines could be a brain

  cracker for a lot of folks, especially the pols the Empire tossed in there.

  Others of us were content to wait our time out. Fliry Vorru, for example, is

  very patient, which makes him very dangerous. We knew the Empire would never let

  him out, but he was confident he'd be out someday. I knew I would get out, but

  the time there still ground on me."

  The flesh around his eyes tightened, leaving the red light in his left eye

  burning like a laser in the darkness. "The time I spent in Kessel was

  unbelievably boring, Wedge. Monotony. Day after day the same things would happen

  with the same people. There was no night, no day, just shift after shift after

  shift. Prisoners might come and go, but that was it. Pain I could handle and

  fight against, but boredom? It was the enemy, and it had me mashed flat."

  Wedge winced. "I can't imagine . . ." There certainly were times when Wedge

  would have welcomed less excitement in his life, but not year after year of it.

  I'd have gone out of my mind.

  "When I got out, I made one trip on the Pulsar Skate, but the solitude of

  hyperspace reminded me too much of Kessel. That's why I retired and gave Mirax

  the ship. Now I travel

  and do deals for friends because it means I'm constantly meeting folks and

  getting to know them and learn about them. I'm trying to fill the void that

  Kessel left in me, and piloting Cloudrider isn't going to do that for me."

  Wedge nodded. "I understand, though I wish it were otherwise. You've got skills

  I need." He sat back in his chair. "Having someone I can rely on doing a job

  that badly needs to be done would be a big help."

  A smile slowly grew on Booster's face. "I have an idea for you that might serve

  both of us and cover up some loose ends."

  "What do you have in mind?"

  "Let me run this station."

  "What?"

  "Look, you have this station that's been a trade staple in this region for a

  very long time. You've got the Republic thinking it's been destroyed, which

  means your enemies think that, too, but ships that come in-system to make

  navigational adjustments can still see it here. You're fooling no one, and the

  fact that you've shut the station down to folks who have been here a lot means

  you're mak ing them angry. That, in turn, means that someone is going to sell you

  out to Iceheart."

  "We figured that."

  "Well, you should also figure this Pretty soon no one is going to want to be

  trading with Thyferra. You're giving away what Vorru wants to charge for. His

  only recourse is to cut off the bacta supply going to folks who deal with you.

  Once he does that, you're dead." Booster pressed his hands together. "On the

  other hand, if we open this station to trade, we start generating capital for

  this operation and we have people bringing us information and equipment. We

  develop suppliers who are in our debt because of this stationwhich means they

  won't want to betray youand who bring the material here to us instead of having

  us go out and get it."

  "And running the station would mean you'd be anything but bored."

  "There's that, too."

  Wedge closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He'd

  known all along that the location of his base would get out, but Booster's idea

  of making the secret's preservation valuable to smugglers and traders did

  suggest it might last longer. All the years the Empire searched for Rebel bases,

  it wasn't our trade partners who sold us out. And the prediction of Vorru's

  action was pretty much what Wedge had figured Vorru's response would be. Wedge

  had been gambling that gratitude for the free bacta would keep trade channels

  open, but he agreed that supplying a profit motive would go much further in that

  regard.

  He opened his eyes. "Okay, that works for me. What do we use as a cover story

  for why part of the station is restricted?"

  Booster shrugged. "Does it matter? We can start all manner of rumors, from your

  desire to emulate Warlord Zsinj and carve out your own empire to your desire to

  build a force to wrest Corellia away from the Diktat or even that you and Isard

  are working a racket to spike the price of bacta. The greater the number of

  rumors the better, quite frankly, since they will armor the truth and result in

  folks bringing us information to further our planswhatever they might be. As

  long as there is some mystery here, and folks smell profits in trying to figure

  it out, we'll be covered."

 
Wedge nodded thoughtfully. "I suspect that your taking this position means

  you'll be pitted against Vorru in this war to control trade and information."

  "And that won't be boring at all." Booster's smile broadened to the edges of

  his face. "This will be grand."

  "I hope you're correct." Wedge stood and stepped away from the station manager's

  chair. "Booster Terrik, this station is all yours. May the Force be with you."

  13

  The shuttle ride down to Thyferra from the Mimban Cloudrider left Corran a bit

  uneasy. A rising storm made the air turbulent and being strapped into a seat in

  the back made Corran want to scream. He glanced over at Mirax and saw she was

  having as much trouble as he was sitting still. Either one of us could pilot

  this Lambda-class cargo shuttle through this storm front without this much

  bumping around.

  Mirax placed her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. "We'll get down."

  "I figure. Crashing and dying wouldn't be nearly as interesting as the rest of

  this run." Corran closed his eyes and concentrated on regulating his breathing.

  He tried to convince himself he was doing that just to settle his stomach and

  that he'd done such things countless times before for exactly the same reason.

  It was true, but he also knew his choosing to do it now was a result of

  reviewing the datacards Luke Skywalker had sent to him.

  Corran admired Skywalker's ability to read him. Very little of the material sent

  had been dry, boring, procedural stuffexamples of the breathing exercises were

  pretty much the only things that fell into that class. By and large Luke had

  provided him with stories of Jedi Knights that pointed to their long tradition

  of law enforcement and their dedication to virtue and justice and not a little

  to the bold, heroic tales that had made the Jedi legendary throughout the

  galaxy.

  The selection is perfectly focused to inspire me to join him. The problem with

  it was that Corran found it rather daunting. It also caused him to start

  second-guessing himself, which was something he seldom did and hated whenever he

  did do it. Before reading the Jedi material, Corran would have put the dread

  coiling his belly down to a reaction to the bumpy ride. Now he wondered if he

  wasn't anticipating some disaster through the Force, which in turn made him

  wonder if he was leading his friends into an ambush.