Gavin laughed. “Seventeen million, I’ll take.”
“So would a lot of other folks, which is precisely what they want to do.” Tycho frowned. “Rumors of what happened at the reception, despite the spin the New Republic Information Ministry tried to put on it, have spread quickly. While we are getting a lot of support, the folks who deal in the things we need to accomplish our mission know how desperate we are. Right now we have one X-wing—Corran’s ship—and the services of Mirax’s Pulsar Skate. Other ships are fairly dear. I would imagine, to get the fighters we need, we’ll probably end up hiring mercenaries who come with their own equipment. This shouldn’t surprise anyone, though the prices might. All the little Warlords out there are looking for fighters, so its a seller’s market.”
Standing at the front of the room, Wedge nodded. “That’s getting a bit ahead of ourselves, but it’s worth keeping in mind. We’ve got some basic data to mull over first, concerning our objectives. Winter has put them together.” Wedge pointed to the holoprojector toward the front of the room. “Winter, if you please.”
Winter stood and walked to the front of the room with a stately grace that left no question in Wedge’s mind why people on Alderaan had frequently mistaken her for Princess Leia Organa. Though Winter wore her white hair long and, today, in a thick braid, she carried herself with a nobility that matched her exquisite features. Slender and stunning, she seemed somehow incongruous with the dangerous missions she’d been on during her career as a covert agent for the Rebellion.
Which is exactly why she was never suspected.
Winter picked up the datapad that was connected by a cable to the holoprojector. She hit one button, dimming the glow panels in the room and bringing up a holographic projection of a planet. “This is our objective: Thyferra. It is a fairly normal terrestrial planet with a breathable atmosphere and two moons, neither of which has atmosphere or is inhabited. Thyferra is covered with rain forests and enjoys a day that is roughly twenty-one point three standard hours long. The axial tilt is negligible so there are really no seasons. Because of its proximity to the system’s star, a yellow star, and the mildly elevated levels of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, it maintains a tropical climate year round. The way Coruscant felt after the storms that took down the power grid is pretty much what this planet experiences all the time.”
Wedge frowned. To take the power grid down and eliminate the defense shields on Coruscant, Rogue Squadron had caused a lot of water to boil off into the atmosphere, creating a huge thunderstorm. For a week and a half following that storm the air had been thick and heavy. No wonder the plant that goes into bacta thrives there.
“Thyferra has three stellar-class spaceports—one at what is now being called Xucphra City. The other two are located on separate continents and are primarily used for the loading and unloading of bacta. Inbound ships stop at Xucphra City first for Customs and Immigration inspections, then are sent on to the spaceports to do business. They leave from those spaceports and head directly out to the destinations.”
Nawara Ven raised a hand. “I presume the metropolis’s name change came about when the Xucphra corporation took over. What was it called before that?”
“Zalxuc City, which really is not much better.” Winter directed the computer to zoom in and supply an aerial view of the city. “As you can see, it’s not really a metropolis at all. The human population of Thyferra was only ten thousand before Isard took over. Many Zaltin families fled, and their housing is being used for Imperial Army and Navy officers and enlisted folk on leave from their ships. The Lusankya alone carries twenty-five times the human population of the planet, so there is no question about the possibility of occupation when or if Isard orders it. So far she has refrained and is using Imperial personnel and equipment to train and supply the Thyferran Home Defense Corps.”
Winter nodded to the six-limbed, insectoid alien standing in the back of the room. “The native population of Thyferra refers to themselves as the Vratix. The production of bacta—literally the brewing together of alazhi and kavam—appears to produce an almost mystical amount of satisfaction for the Vratix. Qlaern Hirf here is a verachen—a master blender—who commands subordinates and creates bacta. A verachen is very much equivalent to a brewmaster at any Lomin-ale brewery, though a verachen also has highly defined rights and responsibilities within the Vratix society.
“I should also note that the Vratix are neither male nor female—those roles are played at different times in the life cycle, so referring to Qlaern as ‘he’ or ‘she’ is inappropriate. Moreover, since the Vratix do constitute something of a low-grade hive mind, they are more comfortable with a plural pronoun, so they and them will have to suffice.”
The Vratix in the back clicked its curved mandibles. “Your dissertation honors us, Lady Winter.”
“Thank you. Because of their desire—even need—to produce bacta, the Vratix welcomed the influx of humans who were willing to set up and run businesses that created a demand for more bacta, allowing and even compelling the Vratix to do more of what they enjoyed doing. While individual Vratix are part of the corporate ownership for both Zaltin and Xucphra, Imperial laws made it necessary to remove them from active leadership and decision-making roles in the companies. Zaltin and Xucphra were given Imperial monopolies on the production of bacta, presumably in return for bribes paid to the local Moff and the Emperor. This has made Thyferra a very rich planet and the humans who live there very wealthy. The Vratix, on the other hand, live very modest lives in tribal groups within the rain forests.”
She typed a data request into the datapad, which switched the image of the city for a trio of individuals. “Ysanne Isard was installed as Chief Operating Officer and Head of State for Thyferra in a coup d’etat approximately two weeks ago. Preparations had been made well before that, since the revolution was completed prior to her Super Star Destroyer, Lusankya, arriving in orbit. Not much is known about her for certain—rumors abound about her having been one of the Emperor’s lovers, for example; but there is no confirmation of that. We do know her father was the Director of Imperial Intelligence before her, but she turned over to the Emperor evidence that her father was going to join the Rebellion, causing his downfall and her elevation to replace him.”
Nawara Ven raised a hand. “Was her father going to come over to the Rebellion?”
Winter shrugged. “If he was, I have no knowledge of his planned defection. There is no doubt his daughter was ambitious enough to have manufactured evidence against him, so she is very dangerous. Dislodging her will be difficult and probably require a ground assault. She is not, as nearly as we know, a pilot, so the chances of any of you getting to vape her in a dogfight are nil.”
Winter pointed to the next figure. “Fliry Vorru, on the other hand, might well be able to fight you in a ship. He was a former Imperial Moff from Corellia, which this squadron liberated from Kessel. Vorru fled with Isard to Thyferra and is now the Minister of Trade. It is unclear when Vorru began to work with Isard, but the possibility that he struck a deal with her upon planetfall on Coruscant cannot be ruled out. While we put much of our misfortune concerning the operations to take Coruscant down to having Zekka Thyne and other Imperial spies in our midst, it is entirely possible Vorru was working directly for Isard at that point. He certainly was in her employ by the time he was appointed a Colonel in the Coruscant Constabulary.”
She waved a hand at the third individual, a tall, slender woman with black hair worn short. “Erisi Dlarit should be familiar to all of us. She is from a Xucphra family and was the Imperial mole inside Rogue Squadron. Her actual value to the Empire was minimal. At best she was responsible for Corran’s capture, Bror Jace’s death, and the betrayal of the bacta convoy at Alderaan to Warlord Zsinj. While she did provide information on our operations on Coruscant to the Empire, the fact that Wedge allowed no outside contact prior to the final attempt to destroy the planetary shields meant she could not warn Isard of our plans. Short of crashing her Z-9
5 Headhunter into the construction droid we used, she could do nothing to stop the plan from unfolding. What she did do was transmit the codes that allowed Isard to take control of Corran’s ship and bring him down.”
As Winter dispassionately outlined Erisi’s involvement with the Empire, Wedge watched the faces of his people. Erisi had been one of them, fighting alongside of them in numerous engagements. She’d been shot out of her X-wing, and Tycho had risked his life to rescue her. Even though her aid to the Empire was, as Winter had indicated, really insignificant, it had been enough to kill people who didn’t deserve to die.
In himself, Wedge found anger mixed with chagrin and a little admiration. Erisi Dlarit had successfully played through some very difficult situations without revealing her role. Until she was fleeing Coruscant, Wedge hadn’t known she was a spy. Some signs were there, but not all of them.
Wedge caught Corran looking in his direction and half-smiled. “She played the game well.”
“True, but she’s going to have to play much better when we come to visit.” Corran’s only concession to the emotions he was feeling came in the edge to his voice and the thin-lipped smile he offered. “As a spy she was good, but the next contest is one of pilots, and in that one she’ll lose.”
Winter changed the holographic image again. “If she loses it’s not going to be because she’s lacking the equipment she needs to win. Defending Thyferra are four Imperial warships: a Super Star Destroyer, two Imperial Star Destroyers, and one Victory-class Star Destroyer. Lusankya, Avarice, Virulence, and Corrupter, respectively. Lusankya is the ship that blasted its way out of Coruscant. It was previously unaccounted for, causing us to raise our estimates of how many ships the Kuat Drive Yards and the Fondor Yards produced. Oddly enough, both places claim to have produced Vader’s flagship, Executor. It appears two ships were manufactured under that name, with one having been turned into Lusankya and buried on Coruscant—probably to serve as the Emperor’s get-away ship. The other Executor, the one from Fondor, was destroyed at Endor.”
She circled a finger through the hologram, encompassing the trio of smaller ships. “Avarice, Virulence, and Corrupter have hardly had sterling careers, but the crews are competent. I’m in the process of assembling files on all the staff officers, but the most dangerous of them, Captain Ait Convarion, commands the smallest ship. Corrupter has done very well in the Outer Rim hunting down pirate groups which, for better or worse, we resemble.”
Wedge stood as Winter shut the holoprojector down. “As you can all see, we’re dealing with a fairly formidable foe that is well armed. One of the things we have to face is that we may be unable to accomplish our goals in this operation. Unseating Isard may, in fact, turn out to be impossible.”
Seated behind Gavin, Corran reached out and tapped the younger man on the head. “Gavin, this is where you’re supposed to tell us that unseating her isn’t tough and relate the whole thing to varminting on Tatooine.”
Gavin blanched. “I didn’t hear anyone mention a trench or canyon or womp rats. Taking a planet is beyond me.”
Wedge smiled. “It’s beyond most of us. I’ve sent communications out to some individuals who might be able to help. The problem is enormous. First we have to eliminate the ships, then take the world. The key to nailing the ships is to get them spread out so they can’t support each other. We can do that by forcing Isard to use them to cover bacta convoys, but to kill the ships we need weapons, and a lot of them.”
Riv Shiel, the Shistavanen wolfman, curled his lips up in a snarl. “It sounds as if we need the Katana fleet.”
“That would be nice.” The legendary ghost fleet of warships was supposed to be skipping through hyperspace, just waiting for someone to come and claim it. Wedge frowned. “We could also hope that the Outbound Flight Project finally produces results, with a host of nonhuman Jedi Knights coming from outside the galaxy to help us, but I don’t think it’s likely.”
Gavin raised a hand. “What about that ship that Alderaan loaded all of its weapons on when it demilitarized? I can’t remember the name, but I thought it was supposed to go through space and return if needed. Maybe Princess Leia has a way to summon it or something.”
Winter shook her head. “You are thinking of Another Chance. While it is not as much of a legend as the Katana fleet, or Jorus C’baoth’s mission outside the galaxy—the ship did exist—it is not the solution to our problem. The Another Chance was actually recovered by Rebel sympathizers prior to the debacles at Derra IV and Hoth. The weapons recovered were all of Clone Wars vintage and suited for use by infantry. They were useful in filling the gap caused by the loss of the convoy at Derra IV.”
Gavin’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, I never knew all that.”
“Not that you should have, Gavin.” Winter smiled. “Aside from the individuals who found the ship, a few smugglers who helped transport the merchandise, and higher-ups in the Rebellion, no one does. The Empire devoted resources to trying to find and take it, diverting them from pursuing us.”
“Finding a miracle ship is not our only hope, people.” Wedge held a hand up. “One of the things Winter has done for the Rebellion is locate old Imperial supply dumps. Most of them have been thoroughly stripped, but not everything is accounted for. We’re going to go back over some of those sites and see what we can find. In fact, we have one mission that will be heading off tomorrow. Mirax will be taking Corran and you, Gavin, to Tatooine. One of the arms caches we found a couple of years ago had been plundered by Biggs Darklighter’s father.”
Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Uncle Huff?”
“The same. He said at the time he used some of the cache to arm his own security force then sold the rest off. But I don’t buy it for a moment. There is no way he would have gotten rid of everything.” Wedge smiled. “So, you’re going to go home, Gavin, and talk your uncle into sharing the wealth with us.”
“I don’t know if he’ll listen to me.”
“That’s why we’re sending Corran, too. Your uncle has secrets to hide, and I expect Corran can ferret them out. That will help.”
Gavin’s face froze for a moment, then he began to smile. “I can get behind this. Serves him right for always seating me at the children’s table at family gatherings.”
“Gavin, he did that because you were a kid. Big, but a kid.” Corran scruffed up Gavin’s blond hair, then looked at Wedge. “While we’re on the world that water abandoned, what are the rest of you going to be doing?”
“We’re moving to our new home.” Wedge held his hands up to calm the sudden buzz of voices. “This move is a covert op, so we’ll be taking a lot of precautions to get there. There’s no chance we can keep the location secret from our enemies forever, but as much time as we can get up to that point is what we want. Pack your things and get ready to move. The Bacta War is about to begin.”
Chapter Six
Corran Horn sneezed violently, initiating a wave of dust rippling across the cantina table toward Mirax. “How can anyone live on this infernal world? Even the dust has dust.”
Mirax stretched languidly. “It’s really not that bad, Corran, as worlds go. On Talasea things would mildew from plate to mouth.”
“Sure, but there you had ovens to bake things, not a whole world to do it.” Corran swiped a hand across his forehead, then shook the perspiration from it in a spray that spattered a pair of hooded Jawas, who themselves stank of ronto sweat. “I hate this.”
She looked at him over the lip of her Corellian whisky glass. “At least it’s a dry heat.”
“So’s a blast furnace, but that doesn’t make it any less hot.” Corran arched an eyebrow and tapped the stained and patch-welded top of the round table where they sat. “And why are we here? This table has seen more combat than most of the squadron’s X-wings. The patrons here make this place look like a maximum security compound at Akrit’tar.”
“Keeping up appearances, dear heart.” Mirax shifted to the left to give her a full view of the t’bac-smoke-chok
ed bar. “Chalmun’s cantina is known as the place that hotshot pilots hang out. I certainly qualify on that count, as do you. Right now I don’t need work, but it could be that some of these folks need cargoes hauled, and those cargoes might be the kind of thing we want. Can’t hurt to be here. Besides, Gavin recommended it as our rendezvous.”
“Right. That’s because he’s never been in here before and didn’t want to come in alone.” Corran allowed disgust to pour through his words, but he mitigated it with a smile. “If I’d been asked to raid a place like this, my plan would have begun with the phrase, ‘After the strafing runs are completed’”
Shock rode freely on Mirax’s face, but was exaggerated enough that Corran figured she was really only mildly horrified at his suggestion. “This might not be the most savory bunch of characters ever gathered together in the galaxy, but they’re not that bad. My father used to bring me in here all the time when I was a kid. Some of these hard cases may be crusty on the outside, but they were very kind to me. Wuher, the bartender over there, used to synth up a sweet fizzy drink for me, and more than one of these guys would bring me little trinkets from the worlds they’d visited.”
Corran shook his head. “I’d have loved to see those Immigrations forms. ‘Purpose of the visit to our world?’ ‘Murder, mayhem, glitterstim smuggling, and purchase of a gift suitable for a small Corellian girl.’”
Mirax giggled. “Yeah, I imagine there are a couple like that in databanks somewhere.”
The sound of her laughter managed to cut through the dulled buzz of conversation in the cantina. Corran sat up in his chair as he noticed two individuals turn from the bar and look in their direction. One was a Rodian and the other was a Devaronian, yet they both shared a lean, hungry look that made Corran feel antsy. They started toward the table, and Corran took it as significant that they abandoned full drinks at the bar, primarily because that left their hands empty.
The Bacta War Page 4
