"I get the hologram, Tycho." Wedge frowned. "Do they know there's danger here?"
"They seem to think that after Zsinj, Isard might be taken as a change for the
positive. I've spoken with the key employers here, and they know there could be
trouble. They seem to think that with us here it's actually going to be safer
because the scum of the galaxy isn't going to be drifting in every time they
have liberty."
"True, but their revenues are going to be down, and that could make for
trouble."
The turbolift stopped and opened onto the docking facility. Tall transparisteel
walls gave Wedge a spectacular view of Yag'Dhul. Though small and dense, the
world took on a curious appearance because of the three moons orbiting it and
the tidal forces they generated as they orbited in the opposite direction to the
planet's rotation. The atmosphere boiled and swirled, with storms sowing
lightning through the gray clouds and flashes of red stone visible even from the
station.
"Hard to believe life could have arisen in that maelstrom." Wedge folded his
arms across his chest and shivered. "No wonder the Givin have an exoskeleton and
can exist in a vacuum."
"It's a good thing they can. Our attack here apparently opened some of the
station up to the vacuum, so they used Givin to make the repairs. Everything is
fine now, though, with one exception the old Station Master died while on an
inspection tour of the repair work."
Wedge frowned, recalling an old Twi'lek with a pockmarked face who had been as
oily as Darth Vader had been evil. "His name was Valsil Torr, right?"
"I guess so. Apparently he tried to force a Givin task leader to pay him a
bribe. They agreed to discuss it in Torr's office, and there was a catastrophic
loss of atmosphere." Tycho winced. "The Twi'lek was sucked out of his office
through a hole the size of, say, a blaster bolt. The Givin lived and patched the
hole."
"So now no one is running the station."
"The merchants here have formed an Economic Council and seem to be running
things fairly well as far as they are
concerned. We'll need to put someone in to control them, but I don't have a
candidate in mind yet." Tycho opened his arms. "This is the main docking area,
which contains ten levels all its own. The middle six deal with cargo transfer
and storage. The outer two on each side contain crew housing, some small shops
and two tapcafshome away from home for freight haulers. The tapcafs serve
exactly what the rest of us eat, but they lower the lights and hike the price."
"You know, with the right ambiance, that tauntaun would have tasted fine."
"Sure, Wedge, believe that if you want." Tycho pointed to the triangular landing
extending out into space. "Ships land here, unload, pick up or exchange cargo,
and head out again. If the crew wants to stop over, its ship is parked in orbit
and the station shuttle service brings them to and from the station. Hangar
space is rare, and what this station has is being reserved for us right now,
though there is some space for repairs if a ship needs it."
"Fair enough." Wedge watched a small yacht make an approach on the station. Its
sleek lines and down-curving wings reminded him of a native Corellian fish.
"Looks like the Pulsar Skate is coming in. Have you had any word from them?"
"No, but there was a funds transfer to the account of Huff Darklighter, so I
assume things went well."
"Good." Wedge pointed back at the lift. "Let's go down, greet them, and see
exactly what our money bought us."
9
Wedge wondered if he weren't really still trapped in a dream as the turbolift
door opened and he stepped into the squadron hangar. A dozen X-wings occupied
the deck, and techs swarmed over them. That wasn't what had struck him as
unrealistic, however, since the hustle and bustle of a hangar was something he'd
witnessed countless times before. He glanced over at Tycho. "What's going on
here?" Tycho gave him a grin. "Well, since we're no longer part of the New
Republic's Armed Forces, we can't have ships bearing its insignia or colors, can
we? Now, Corran's ship has always been green with that black and white trim,
like his droid, so I thought we might just go ahead and repaint our X-wings to
look like whatever we want them to be."
He pointed very specifically at an X-wing that was bloodred except for where
white had been splashed at a diagonal down across the nose and the tips of the
S-foils. A broad black stripe parted the white from the red. "That one's mine. I
did some checking, and before Alderaan disarmed, that was the color scheme the
Alderaan Guard unit near my home used to sport. I've also had Zraii switch my
Identify Friend/Foe beacon over to an old Alderaanian codethe one from the
Another Chance, in fact. Individualizing the paint and switching our IFF codes
to those of our home planets provides further evidence that we're not a New
Republic unit."
Wedge chewed his lower lip for a moment. Makes sense, all of it. And the
fighters do look a bit more, ah, ferocious with the new paint jobs. "I like it,
Tycho, but I don't know what to do with mine. Corran's got the CorSec green, but
he's earned it."
"How about a dark blue, with red stripes up the sides?"
"Corellian Bloodstripes?" Wedge chuckled. "I never was in the Corellian
Military, so I never earned Bloodstripes. Han Solo wears them on his trousers
because he went to the Imperial Academy and won them through his bravery."
"Oh, and you've not been equally brave?"
"That's open to debate, but the fact is I've never been sufficiently military to
earn them." He smiled slowly. "Make everything from the cockpit back black,
including the S-foils, and give me a green-and-gold check pattern on the front
fuselage."
Tycho's eyes narrowed. "I don't recognize the color scheme."
"No reason you should." Wedge hesitated for a second. "Back when my parents
operated a fueling station at Gus Treta, my father was saving up to buy the
station and start his own chain. The green, gold, and black were going to be the
colors he used for the logo and the uniforms. Your colors tie you back to your
home, Corran's do the same thing for him, and I imagine the same is true for
everyone else. Mine will tie me to the home I should have had."
"I'll put the order in immediately." Tycho started walking over toward where
the Pulsar Skate had come through the hangar's magnetic containment bubble and
was setting down. Following it in came a boxy station shuttle, but it landed
further back. "Your ship and Gavin's will be the last ones finished."
Wedge glanced at Ooryl's white fighter. "You need to include Ooryl's ship on
that list."
"No, it's done."
"But, it's so ... plain."
"Apparently not, if you can see in the ultraviolet range." Tycho shrugged.
"Zraii says it's a masterpiece."
"That explains why I'm a warrior, not an artist." Wedge waved as he saw Corran,
Mirax, and Gavin walk down the gangway from the Pulsar Skate. Wait a minute,
who's that? The fourth individual proved taller than Gavin and much bulkier, yet
was
n't slovenly or Huttlike. Then, when his head cleared the interior of the
ship and Wedge saw the bristle of white hair, he recognized him.
"So that's why Corran is looking a bit subdued."
"What?" Tycho frowned at Wedge. "Who's the last guy?"
"Mirax's father."
"Oh. Oh."
Wedge trotted the remaining distance and thrust his hand at Booster Terrik.
"It's been far too long, Booster."
The larger man's hand engulfed Wedge's. "You grew up quite a bit during my five
years on Kessel. After I got out, well, about that time you were freezing on
Hoth, then you were on the go. I assumed I'd run into you sometime, and now
seems as good as any."
"Indeed it is." Wedge glanced over at Mirax. "Your daughter's been a lifesaver,
you know, and for more than just me."
"So I gather from what I heard during the trip." Booster Terrik threw an arm
over Wedge's shoulders, then tightened it against his neck. "I would have hoped,
though, you would have found a way to protect her from the likes of Horn there."
Wedge gently dug an elbow in the man's ribs. "First, if you can't control your
daughter, how can / be expected to control her? Second, just as I told her,
Corran isn't his father. He's one of the best men I know."
"You need to get out more, Wedge." Booster opened his arms and released Wedge.
"Interesting place you have here. Not enough to stop a Super Star Destroyer, but
you know that. Still, if you have to die in a box in space, this looks as good
as any in which to do it."
"Tycho's taking me on a tour. You're welcome to join us."
"I'd be happy to."
Wedge nodded, then looked over at Gavin. "How was Tatooine?"
"Good, sir. We got a fair amount of personal armor and weapons, as well as some
TIE parts and assorted other things Mirax thinks we can trade. Uncle Huff said
that was all that was left from the Eidolon material."
"It all looked pretty good, Wedge." Corran leaned against a pilot-mover. "We've
got enough in the way of small arms to supply a decent insurgent force. The
armor is stormtrooper grade."
Corran's voice trailed off as the sound of footsteps drew closer. Wedge turned
and saw a pair of individuals coming around Pulsar Skate's stern. The hulking
brute of a man, with a shaved head and a big bushy beard, dwarfed his petite
female companion. Wedge hitched for a moment, then started to laugh. "How is it
possible that you're here so soon?"
The auburn-haired woman smiled sweetly. "And I'm happy to see you, too, Wedge.
You've not changed much, Tycho, or you, Mirax." She nodded to the others in the
group, then offered her hand to Corran. "Elscol Loro and Sixtus Quin."
"Elscol joined the squadron just after Bakura and flew a few missions with us."
Wedge jerked a thumb toward her taciturn, dark-skinned companion. "Sixtus Quin
was a Special Intelligence Operative who was betrayed by his Imperial
commander, so he helped us out in a mission on Tatooine."
Corran nodded. "We can always use more pilots."
"But that's not why we're here, kid." She shot Wedge a sidelong glance. "The
reason we got here so soon was because we were inbound before your summons
reached us. We'd heard of the coup on Thyferra and figured we'd ply our trade
there."
Corran stiffened. "And what would that trade be?"
A lopsided grin contorted the left side of her face. "I do what I was doing at
the time Wedge recruited meI find worlds with Imperial tyrants, and I liberate
them. Sixtus,
what's left of his squad, and a group of other ne'er-do-wells come with me. We
organize local resistance movements; provide them with expertise, weapons, and
support; and help them get rid of their local Imperial officials."
Wedge smiled. "I think you'll recall that no one at our first meeting had any
good idea about how to go about overthrowing a planetary government. Elscol has
had more practice at it than anyone I know. She's never been much of a joiner,
so she's been working outside the New Republic."
She shrugged. "Haven't formed an opinion about the New Republic yet, though
during Tycho's trial my thoughts were none-too-positive. The Empire, on the
other hand, left me without my family, so I'm doing what I can to strip them of
theirs."
"Have you had a chance to review the material I sent you?"
Elscol nodded. "If the ratio of loyal humans to Vratix is at all accurate, the
actual conquest of the world should be simple. The big problem there is the
presence of those Imp ships. Anything we do can be undone by a planetary
bombardment. If those ships can be scattered or neutralized preferably bothwe
can stage an uprising that should topple Ysanne Isard. I'm confident we can do
it, but I'll have a better idea of exactly what we're going to do after I get in
there and take a look."
Mirax raised an eyebrow. "You're talking about going to Thyferra?"
"Yes, the sooner the better." Elscol held up a hand and started ticking points
off on her fingers. "We have to liaise with the Ashern, or we'll fight them as
much as we'll fight the Imps and their Xucphra allies. We have to determine the
nature of the targets we'll hit, so we can be properly supplied for the
strikes. We need to gauge the reaction of the populace to a countercoup, and we
have to find a local leader who can handle being put in charge. If this were
just some backwater world that no one cared about, we could be a bit more hasty.
Thyferra, however, is of vital importance, so we have to be careful and surgical
in what we're doing."
"Agreed." Wedge folded his arms across his chest. "We
don't have enough in the way of personnel or equipment to allow us to be
sloppy."
Sixtus rested his fists on his narrow hips. "How long do you anticipate being
able to keep the location of this station a secret from Isard?"
Wedge shrugged. "I have no way of judging that. We'll take all precautions
possible, but we're as vulnerable here as the Alliance was on Hoth or Yavin 4.
If Isard finds us, we're in for a difficult time."
"Then the sooner we're on Thyferra, the sooner she'll have to think about
leaving at least part of her fleet at home."
Gavin frowned. "But I thought the fleet needed to be scattered."
"True enough, but scattered in a way that you can nibble it to death. I know you
Rogues are hot hands on a stick, but a dozen snubfighters can't take four
capital ships all by themselves. Isard has to be induced to send the ships out
so you can eliminate them, but she also needs a reason to leave some of them at
home so you don't get overwhelmed."
Corran raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're suggesting the only way we win
this thing is if Iceheart starts getting stupid."
"Not at all, flyboy. What we need to do is to give Isard too many things to
think about. She likes to be in control that's clearand she'll do outrageous
things to remain in control." Sixtus smiled in a way that made it seem as if
smiling were an effort for him. "We have to present her with enough problems
that she's reacting to what we do, not acting by herself. We set the pace and
determine what she does."
Tycho'
s eyes narrowed. "And if she doesn't dance to the tune we call?"
Elscol opened her hands. "Then we dance around her. Make no mistake about it,
defeating her is going to be neither pretty nor swift, but it can be done.
People are going to die, but if she remains in charge of the bacta supply in the
galaxy, that's a given anyway."
Wedge nodded and felt his shoulders begin to ache as if someone had settled a
lead-lined cloak across them. While none of the Rogues had ever attempted to
minimize the diffi-
culty of what they had set out to do, neither had they taken a close look at the
realities of it. It is almost as if we began to believe in the legend of Rogue
Squadronthat impossible missions are for us just run of the mill. We know death
and dying are part of any operation, but since we're the ones putting our lives
on the line, we're accepting responsibility for our own lives. Elscol's pointing
out, quite correctly, that a lot of other people can and will be hurt in all
this.
He nodded slowly. "Okay, we've got to start planning this all in earnest. We're
gathering weapons and the ships we need already, but now we're going to have to
designate mission goals, outline parameters, set rules of engagement, and
establish just how far we're willing to go to accomplish the end we desire the
liberation of Thyferra. I take it that the fact that you're here means you're
willing to help us do this, El-scol?"
She winked at Wedge. "Actually I was coming here to give you folks the joy of
flying cover for me while my people handled the problem, but I think throwing in
with you is the only way to get this done. We're in."
"Great." Wedge clapped her on the shoulders. "So, where do you suggest we
begin?"
Elscol's smile blossomed. "I think the first thing we want to do is to make
Isard very mad."
10
Corran made one last check on his instruments, but everything seemed fine. His
screen showed him to be fifteen seconds from reversion to realspace. "Hang on,
Whistler, this could be very strange."
He knew it shouldn't be at all out of the ordinary, but he couldn't escape the
feeling that something odd would happen. He felt it was not because of any
unknown factors attached to the mission, because there really were none. Their
intelligence about the bacta convoy had been very good and double-checked. The