The Krytos Trap

by Michael A. Stackpole

  And Kirtan Loor would be one giant step closer to being free.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Four minutes to reversion to reakpace. Nawara Ven began a quick systems check on his X-wing. Lasers were powered up and linked for offside firing in pairs. He had six proton torpedoes, and had configured that weapon system to shoot them one at a time. Fuel was good; acceleration compensator was set .05 off full, giving him a feel for his position in space, and his life-support systems checked out—including the heated stockings into which he fit his lekku to protect them if he got blasted out of his cockpit.

  He shivered. He’d been shot out of an X-wing during the first battle of Borleias. The concussion of ejecting had stunned him. He’d floated in space, helpless, in the midst of a roiling dogfight. Cold nibbled away at his fingers, toes, and lek-tips, while a little Chronographic indicator flashing on the inside of his helmet’s evac-visor counted down the minutes until his air supply quit. Watching the seconds slip away, he’d felt time was moving a lot faster than it should have.

  I knew I was going to die. He shook his head. Then Captain Celchu showed up and saved me. He didn’t have to do that. In fact, he was insane to do that. After he pulled me to safety, there was no way I could ever think he was an Imperial agent.

  A beep from his R5 unit marked 30 seconds to reversion. “Thanks. Even up my shields forward and back. I don’t expect trouble, but I want to be ready.”

  The droid complied with the request and Nawara prepared himself for the rendezvous with the bacta convoy. Rogue Squadron’s Two flight, led by Lieutenant Pash Cracken and including Gavin and Shiel as well as Nawara, was supposed to break off and head sunward to cover the tail end of the convoy. The last ship was to be the Pulsar Skate, so they’d form up on it. One flight, with Wedge in the lead, would take the head of the convoy, and Three flight, which was still one pilot short, was to orient itself toward any trouble.

  Not that there should be any. The shards of Alderaan formed an asteroid field commonly known as the Graveyard. The majority of traffic into the sector came from Alderaanian expatriots returning to see the sun beneath which they were born one more time and to leave grave-gifts among the asteroids. Others came to plunder those grave-gifts, and some even claimed to have seen a massive armory ship named Another Chance among the planet’s ruins—though Nawara thought that ship as much a legend as the fabled Katana fleet.

  I wanted to ask Tycho if he wanted me to leave anything for him, but I wasn’t allowed any contact with him after I was briefed. Nawara had recorded a message and saved it in the computer for Tycho in case he didn’t make it back, but the mission was supposed to be little more than ceremonial. Aside from their timetable slipping by three quarters of an hour because of a fuel pump failure that delayed their takeoff, the mission had gone exactly as advertised. But it’s the ones that are supposed to be easy that hurt the most.

  The white tunnel through which his ship had been hurtling exploded into a million separate pinpricks of fire. Some of those pinpricks resolved themselves into distant stars, while others refused to shrink. Green darts stabbed into some of the brighter points in the system, then those points exploded. “Sithspawn!”

  “S-foils into attack position.” Wedge’s voice came through the helmet comra unit strong and cool. “Twelve, get me a full scan of the sector. One and Two flights, on me.”

  Nawara reached up with his right hand and flicked the switch that split his stabilizer foils into the cross pattern that gave the fighter its name. Nudging his stick to port, he brought his fighter in on Pash’s starboard flank with a fighter-length separating them. “I’ve got you, Five.”

  “Thanks, Six.”

  Aril Nunb broke into the comm channel with her report. “Caught a flash of something big heading out—a Super Star Destroyer. It’s gone, but in system we have two dozen eyeballs, two lambs, and a Strike Cruiser designated Termagant.”

  “What about the freighters?”

  “We just saw the last one explode.”

  Nawara’s stomach folded in on itself. “Gone? They’re all gone?”

  “An Imperial SSD wouldn’t leave much behind.” Fear and revulsion filled Rhysati’s voice, and Nawara could easily visualize the hard look in her hazel eyes. “We’re going in, right, Rogue Leader?”

  “Twelve, any sign of the Skate?”

  “No, Commander.”

  “Nothing at all? No beacon?”

  “There’s no beacon from half the hulks I have on my scan.” Aril’s voice softened a bit. “A Super Star Destroyer has enough power to completely vape any of the ships in the convoy.”

  “Right, right.” Wedge’s voice trailed off and no one spoke to fill the void. “Blast it! All right, listen up. We’re going in, and we’re going in hot. The Strike Cruiser is our primary target. Proton torps, dual-fire. I want it down and out immediately.”

  Erisi’s voice crackled through the comm unit. “That means the TIEs will have no way to get out of here.”

  The edge in Wedge’s voice came through unadulterated. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not for me, Lead.”

  Nawara keyed his comm unit. “What about the lambs?” The two Lambda-class shuttles carried weapons and could be tougher than TIEs to handle because they also sported shields.

  “We give them one chance to run. After that, they can go away, too.”

  Aril again spoke. “I’m downloading tac-data to everyone. Termagant isn’t straight Imp, it’s allied with Zsinj.”

  “Was allied with Zsinj.” Wedge’s ship began to lengthen its lead over the others. “Come on, Rogues. Warlord Zsinj apparently wanted the Alliance’s attention. Here’s where we make him pay for that mistake.”

  Following Wedge, the squadron sped in toward Zsinj’s forces and the convoy debris. The convoy had been ambushed out beyond the Graveyard and a bit below the system’s orbital plane. Rogue Squadron had come in on the other side of the orbital plane. Because of this, and because of the way Zsinj’s forces chose to orient themselves respective to the system, by flying down to them, Rogue Squadron was, from their perspective flying in up at their bellies.

  Nawara watched his tactical screen. Because the TIEs were making strafing runs on what were left of the freighters, they had no unit cohesion. With the enormous amount of debris in and around where they were flying, Nawara would have been surprised if they had any clue about Rogue Squadron’s approach. So the ambushers get ambushed. How fitting.

  With the flick of his thumb he brought his weapons-control over to proton torpedoes. Another touch of a button and he linked both launching tubes. Range to the Termagant stood at 4.5 kilometers. The X-wings closed fast as Wedge led them down and around the freighter debris field, then over and in at the Strike Cruiser. Nawara’s head’s-up display went from green to yellow as the cruiser filled his sights, then blazed red as his R5’s keening wail announced he had a target lock.

  “Rogues, launch now!”

  On Wedge’s command the squadron fired their proton torpedoes in near-perfect unison. Twenty-two torpedoes streaked in at the lozenge-shaped Strike Cruiser, coming up toward the ventral hull. The first couple detonated brilliantly white against the ship’s shields, but the rest pushed on through. Several exploded against the hull, shredding and blackening armor plating, while still more burst inside the ship. Argent fire gushed from the ragged hole in the ship’s hull, then geysered out of several smaller openings on the upper part of the ship.

  The Strike Cruisers, as a class of ship, had been highly lauded because of their unique construction. Built around a central skeleton that bound the bridge to the engines, their other components were completely modular. A cruiser configured to carry troops could, after a short stay in some spaceyard, emerge a TIE carrier like Termagant. Strike Cruisers allowed the Empire to change the makeup of the Imperial fleet without building entirely new ships.

  That strength is Termagant’s weakness. As the torpedoes exploded inside the ship, the ship itself began to break apart
. The prow drifted upward as if the ship had run into an invisible wall. Armored hull plates shattered where they had covered the seam between the bow and the starboard TIE hangar. The forward part of the hangar started twisting as it ripped free of the skeleton. The cruiser began to roll, then the whole front half of the ship spun off as the ship’s waist evaporated in the inferno the torpedoes caused.

  “The eyes of the Warlord are upon us,” Gavin quipped. “TIEs inbound.”

  Nawara flipped back to his lasers and broke to port with Pash. Coming up over the top, they climbed toward the incoming eyeballs. He punched all power to his forward shield and prepared for a head-to-head pass. He dropped his crosshairs on the growing speck that was an approaching TIE starfighter. He watched the range close, then popped a quick shot off. A pair of laser-bolts glanced off the eyeball’s port panel, imparting a spin to the ship. Nawara started to dive after it, but with his speed, he overshot it.

  “I got the other half of it, Six.”

  “Thanks, Gavin.” Nawara evened out his shields and pulled back up. Inverting his ship, he completed a big loop and followed the rest of squadron back into the fray. In the boiling cloud of fighters, friend and foe flashed past so quickly that it was impossible to account for everyone’s position. Nawara knew a number of the other pilots in the squadron had a “situational awareness” that was superior to his own, but he figured this battle had to be taxing even them.

  And if you take long enough to line up a shot… The hiss of lasers gnawing away at his aft shield completed his thought and sent a jolt through him. “I have one on my tail. I’m going to try to shake him.”

  Nawara hit the right rudder pedal, swinging the X-wing’s aft to port. He kicked the ship up onto the starboard S-foil, then pulled the stick back and curled down into a corkscrew dive. He throttled back a bit, hoping his pursuer would overshoot him, but the aft scan showed the pilot pulling a twisting roll and dive that covered more distance, keeping him in behind Nawara.

  The Twi’lek punched the throttle forward and enlarged the gap between them, then broke hard to port and started to climb again. Maybe that will get rid of him.

  Lasers hissing on his aft shields again told him the tactic hadn’t worked. Nawara rocked the X-wing back and forth and bounced it up and down, making it a tough target to hit, but the TIE pilot stayed with him.

  I have to do something. Sweat formed on his upper lip and leaked in at the corners of his mouth, coating his tongue with the taste of copper. His lekku twitched in their fabric prisons. Maybe if I run into the Graveyard…

  He started to pull up and head for the asteroids, when something behind him exploded. He glanced at his aft monitor and saw no TIE there. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure, Six.” Erisi seemed pleased with herself. “My wing would be distraught if you were hurt.”

  “I owe you, Four, for the both of us.”

  “Acknowledged, Six.”

  Aril Nunb’s voice broke in on the comm channel. “Lambs are running.”

  “Thanks, Twelve, let them go.” Wedge’s voice lacked none of its earlier vehemence. “We’ve got plenty to do here.”

  Nawara brought his X-wing up and evened out the shields. Trailing Erisi back in toward the fight, he saw two or three TIEs explode. Another came shooting out of the dogfight, then barrel-rolled in on Erisi for a broadside shot at her.

  “Four, break up!” Nawara snapped his fighter up on the port S-foil, then climbed. He swooped in on the eyeball, stayed with it as the pilot juked down, then hit his trigger. The first pair of laser-bolts only melted holes in the starboard solar panel, but the second hit the ball cockpit dead on. The TIE began to spin out of control, then exploded in a cloud of brilliant incandescent gas. Debris sparked off his forward shield as he flew past the outer edges of the fireball.

  “Lead, Five here. The TIEs are breaking off. They’re heading for the Graveyard.”

  “I copy, Five. Rogue Squadron, let them go.”

  “You can’t be serious, Lead.”

  “I am, Gavin.”

  “But what they did—”

  “Doesn’t matter right now. They’re dead and they know it. I don’t want any of us getting dead. Regroup in your flights and stand by.” A momentary squeal ended Wedge’s transmission, telling Nawara that the commander was shifting over to a different comm unit frequency.

  Nawara rolled his fighter and dove down to where Pash and the other two members of Two flight were orbiting. Peering out through his cockpit canopy, he got the first good look at the remains of the convoy. If humans can bring themselves to do this to a convoy of ships hauling bacta, I am glad I’m not human.

  A few of the freighters were still recognizable as such. Hull compartments had been blown open by explosions. Bacta that had geysered out through the holes had flash-frozen into monuments to the terror the ships’ crews must have felt. Fires burned deep in the hearts of several ships, consuming the last remnants of atmosphere. Pieces of other ships drifted through the area, slamming into one another, breaking up yet further to careen into other dead hulks.

  The worst image Nawara saw was of one small ship—one barely bigger than the Skate—that appeared, from the prow to midships, to be intact. Back of that point the ship did not really exist—at least, nothing recognizable as a ship. Turbolaser fire had hit so fast that the latter half of the ship had been liquified. An amorphous blob of metal fringed with condensed metal mist, like the down from a silvery bird, trailed in the ship’s wake.

  The sheer violence of the attack that had destroyed that ship shook Nawara. The transparisteel cockpit panels on the ship had blown out. He realized the Super Star Destroyer’s turbolasers would have superheated the atmosphere in the ship. The crew would have been cooked inside and out in the blink of an eye. They would have been dead before they knew what had happened to them, but their last moments must have been full of terror because of the SSD’s presence.

  Nawara keyed his comm unit. “Hypothetical question: you’re part of a convoy with minimal arms and you come out of hyperspace in the shadow of a Super Star Destroyer and a Strike Cruiser that’s deployed its TIEs. Do you provoke an attack?”

  “Ooryl cannot see how anyone would be that suicidal.”

  “Right, so you’d surrender and tell the SSD that you’re hauling bacta, which is currently very valuable.” Nawara frowned. “It makes no sense for anyone to have killed the convoy.”

  “That’s why to know Warlord Zsinj is to wonder about his sanity.” Disgust filled Pash’s voice. “He’s definitely someone who needs a lot of killing.”

  “Count me in.”

  “Me, too.”

  A squeal came through the comm unit, then Wedge spoke. “I’ve just had word with the TIEs. They’re giving up—they were uneasy with the mission and they don’t like the fact that we showed up. They’re going to recon the hangar sections of Termagant and see if they can reboard.”

  “Why, that hulk’s not going anywhere? The engines are in the other half and it’s headed for the Graveyard.”

  “I noticed, Four. They’re going to check for survivors and try to pick up enough oxygen to survive for as long as they can. Pash, I want you to take Two flight out of here and make for Tatooine. It’s about eight hours out, give or take. Gavin can guide you in to Mos Eisley. Refuel there and hire a freighter that can carry a dozen TIEs. Get it here and haul the pilots clear. I’m sure your father would like to debrief them, so you should probably bring them to Coruscant with you.”

  “As ordered. We fly cover for the freighter in case our friends have any ideas about trying to commandeer it?”

  “Right, though I don’t think you’ll find much opposition.”

  “How so?”

  “Scan the debris. There’s a lot of TIE parts out there and—”

  Nawara looked at the readout his R5 scrolled up his screen. “X-wing debris. But we didn’t lose anyone.”

  “No, we didn’t.” Some of the anger drained from Wedge’s voice. “Of course, tha
t’s not what Zsinj’s people say. They say they already killed off Rogue Squadron, right here, defending the convoy the way it was supposed to. Then we arrived and showed them we were tougher to kill the second time around.”

  Nawara blinked. “But that makes no more sense than attacking the convoy in the first place.”

  “No it doesn’t, but there’s no time to try to figure it out now. You get to Tatooine. We’ll check for survivors here, then head back to Coruscant and report. See you there in a day or so.” Wedge sighed. “If by then you come up with any brilliant thoughts on what’s happened here, I know I, for one, will be more than willing to listen to them.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Kirtan Loor would have been trembling with outrage, but the lethargy of despair had a higher priority. He knew his days were numbered, and he wouldn’t have bet on double digits even if given the longest of odds. He freely assumed the only reason he still lived was because Ysanne Isard enjoyed the thought of him cowering in fear, dreading each new day.

  Yet even facing certain death at her hands, Loor did greatly admire how Isard had gotten him and Warlord Zsinj and the New Republic in one simple set of maneuvers. Rogue Squadron would also have been caught in the trap had their operation not fallen behind schedule—and if I had not been phying my game.

  Within 24 hours of the ambush at Alderaan, Zsinj had sent a message to Coruscant via what was left of the Imperial HoloNet system, indicating he and his people had attacked the bacta convoy because, according to his sources, the bacta was tainted and would have exacerbated the Krytos virus problem. He further claimed that Rogue Squadron had been present, had indicated they knew the bacta was tainted, and had fully intended that it should be distributed on Coruscant to “get rid of the xeno-trash” the Empire had left behind. He said he had no choice but to destroy the convoy and Rogue Squadron, then beseeched people to overthrow the New Republic’s government and flock to his banner.