Star Wars: X-Wing II: Wedge's Gamble

by Michael A. Stackpole

  “No, Commander Antilles, you’re wrong.” Anger sparked in the elder Cracken’s eyes and jetted into his voice. “The Empire would have snatched Celchu, broken him down until he confessed, then they would have killed him. He would have disappeared and no one would have dared ask about him. That’s how the Empire would have handled it. The way we will handle it is to have a trial and assess innocence or guilt publicly, openly, aboveboard, so there is no question about justice being done or not.”

  Cracken raised his head up and met Wedge’s stare openly. “That, sir, is exactly what we fought for. You know it, and you know there’s no other way to handle this situation.”

  Wedge hesitated, then closed his eyes and nodded. “You’re correct, of course, General. We did fight for justice.” He turned to stare at Corran’s grave and thought of Tycho. “The pity is, even in victory, justice still eludes those who deserve it the most.”

  Epilogue

  If there was a part of him that didn’t hurt, Corran Horn couldn’t name it. His chief complaint came from his shoulders. He could feel the binders holding his arms at the small of his back constantly exerting pressure to pull his elbows closer together. They sheathed his arms in metal from fingertips to elbows and were the kind of restraints that had been outlawed for CorSec’s use.

  He found himself lying on his stomach in the dark on a thin cot of some sort. He was naked, save for the binders, and the room was slightly chilled. A weak, barely noticeable vibration ran through the cot, producing a low hum that depending on how he turned his head, he could occasionally hear. He strained his eyes to determine if there was anything to see, but the utter absence of light foiled him.

  Corran found his thoughts wandering, which made him think that he’d been drugged. That sensation, along with the binders, his nakedness, and the darkness, led him to the inescapable conclusion that he’d been captured by the Empire. The darkness and drugs kept him disoriented. His nakedness made him defensive—or was supposed to. He recalled a CorSec training seminar about methods used by kidnappers to keep their victims off balance and was able to pinpoint himself as the subject of such treatment.

  The chill in the air and the vibration suggested he was on a starship heading out through hyperspace to some destination or other. He knew the Imps would be fleeing Coruscant, but for a moment he had no idea why. Then he remembered the Alliance fleet having arrived at Coruscant. If they are running, we won. He frowned. But if we won, why am I their captive?

  He tried to remember what he could of his last moments on Coruscant. He’d lost control of his Headhunter and the manual override didn’t work. Then a light had flashed on the console indicating the acceleration compensation unit had gone out. The ship flipped itself into a high g-force turn and he remembered nothing more. Without acceleration compensation, I felt the full effect of the turn. Blood drained from my brain and I went out.

  Corran rolled onto his left side, then drew his knees up to his chest. He rocked himself a little bit and managed to get up onto his knees. The world immediately spun, which was a sensation that was made worse because the utter darkness gave him nothing to look at, nothing to occupy his attention. He brought his head down and rested it on the cot, but refused to let himself flop down again. It didn’t matter that he felt terrible, he’d gotten to his knees and refused to retreat to his belly again.

  Lights flashed on brilliantly in an instant, stabbing forked pain into his brain. He heard a door whoosh open and the careful, deliberate clank-clack of shoes on metal lattice steps, but he made no attempt to look in the direction of the sound. He refused to look, part of him knowing the individual had desired to make an entrance, and he congratulated himself for his restraint.

  He waited until the sound of the footsteps stopped before he slowly brought his head up. He kept his eyes all but shut, letting eyelashes and welled-up tears protect his eyes against the light. Out of the corner of his right eye he saw a blot of red, so he slowly turned his head toward it and looked up. Even before he got to the mismatched eyes, he knew who she was and he hoped against hope she was a figment of whatever drugs they’d pumped into him.

  Her first words came cold and even, tinted with just a hint of curiosity. “I would have expected you to be more formidable somehow.”

  “Clothes make the man,” he said. At least he thought he said it. He did hear sound coming out of his mouth, a kind of harsh croaking that seemed closer to Huttese than Basic. Had he any spit to let gurgle in his throat as he spoke he’d definitely have been taken for a Hutt.

  “Ah, the infamous Horn wit.”

  Corran opened his eyes wider and shuffled on his knees around to face her. “I left most of it back on Free Coruscant.”

  She brought her hands up and clapped gently. “I’m amazed a man in your condition can make jokes.” She squatted down and caught him across the face with an openhanded slap he never saw coming. “I’m amazed a man in your situation would make jokes.”

  Corran played his tongue over his split lip. “Lieutenant Corran Horn, Alliance fleet, Rogue Squadron.”

  Ysanne Isard stood again but he didn’t bother following her with his eyes. “Very good, defiance. I like defiance.”

  “If that were true, you’d find all you want on Coruscant.”

  “Indeed, perhaps I would. That is no concern of yours, however.” Her low chuckle filled the room and made it seem even colder. “I’ll have you know that your Rebel forces are indeed now in control of Imperial Center. What they have discovered, though they know not the depth of the problem, is that Imperial Center is a poisoned world, a sick world. It is a black hole from which they cannot escape. They have truly bitten off more than they can possibly chew and they will be choked to death because of it.”

  “I’m not inclined to take your word for all this.” Corran put as much disdain in the sentence as he could muster, but what she said disturbed him. Shiel and Nawara Ven and Portha had all become ill enough that they could not participate in the squadron’s final action. He didn’t think anyone could have gone forward with releasing some sort of plague on a world deliberately, but then he’d not thought anyone would use a weapon that destroyed whole planets on an inhabited world. The Empire had done the latter, so using a biological agent to destroy people and leave the world infrastructure intact just seemed like an economical refinement of Imperial doctrine.

  “I neither desire nor care about your belief in what I say. Ultimately what you think is immaterial to me. I have you, you are mine, and I will do with you what I see fit.”

  Corran brought his head up despite the pain. “What you did to Tycho Celchu to get him to betray me? He gave you the codes for my ship. That’s how you got me.”

  She looked down at him and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, well done, Horn, well done. I would deny this, of course, but the latest word from Imperial Center is that Tycho Celchu has been arrested by Alliance Intelligence on charges of treason and murder. Specifically, your murder.”

  “Hardly an injustice, given the circumstances.”

  “Perhaps not, but I will find a way to use it. I will return you to them after they have convicted and executed him. His wrongful death will gnaw away at consciences and undercut the Rebellion’s illusion of moral superiority.”

  “I’ll tell them the truth.”

  “The only truth you’ll know is the truth I give you.” Isard’s smile slithered cruelly onto her face. “We are bound to Lusankya, my private workshop for people like you. By the time I am finished with you, your mind will be mine and your heart’s desire will be what I wish.”

  Corran shook his head violently, hoping the pain would be enough to make him black out. It was not. “I will never betray my friends.”

  She laughed again. “I have heard this chorus many times before and it always sounds so sweet. You will betray them, Corran Horn, just as Tycho Celchu betrayed you. You will be the instrument of Rogue Squadron’s death and will strike a mighty blow against the Alliance’s precarious unity. When I am thro
ugh with you, little man, you will become the instrument of the Emperor’s vengeance and nothing and no one will be able to stop you.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Michael A. Stackpole is an award-winning author, editor, game and computer game designer. As always, he spends his spare time playing indoor soccer and now has a new hobby, podcasting. Mike will publish A New World, the sequel to Cartomancy, this July, and is currently at work on ideas for a half-dozen other novels.

  To learn more about Mike’s podcasting, please visit www.tsfpn.com (the website of The SciFi Podcast Network).

  BOOKS BY MICHAEL A. STACKPOLE

  THE WARRIOR TRILOGY

  Warrior: En Garde

  Warrior: Riposte

  Warrior: Coupé

  THE BLOOD OF KERENSKY

  TRILOGY

  Lethal Heritage

  Blood Legacy

  Lost Destiny

  Natural Selection

  Assumption of Risk

  Bred for War

  Malicious Intent

  Grave Covenant

  Prince of Havoc

  Ghost War

  THE FIDDLEBACK TRILOGY

  A Gathering Evil

  Evil Ascendant

  Evil Triumphant

  Eyes of Silver*

  Dementia

  Wolf and Raven

  Once a Hero*

  Talion: Revenant*

  STAR WARS® X-WING SERIES

  Rogue Squadron*

  Wedge’s Gamble*

  The Krytos Trap*

  The Bacta War*

  Isard’s Revenge*

  Star Wars®: I, Jedi*

  Star Wars®: Dark Tide

  Star Wars®: Onslaught

  Star Wars®: Ruin

  THE DRAGONCROWN

  WAR CYCLE

  The Dark Glory War*

  Fortress Draconis*

  When Dragons Rage*

  The Grand Crusade*

  THE AGE OF DISCOVERY

  A Secret Atlas*

  Cartomancy*

  *published by Bantam Books

  STAR WARS—The Expanded Universe

  You saw the movies. You watched the cartoon series, or maybe played some of the video games. But did you know …

  In The Empire Strikes Back, Princess Leia Organa said to Han Solo, “I love you.” Han said, “I know.” But did you know that they actually got married? And had three Jedi children: the twins, Jacen and Jaina, and a younger son, Anakin?

  Luke Skywalker was trained as a Jedi by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda. But did you know that, years later, he went on to revive the Jedi Order and its commitment to defending the galaxy from evil and injustice?

  Obi-Wan said to Luke, “For over a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times. Before the Empire.” Did you know that over those millennia, legendary Jedi and infamous Sith Lords were adding their names to the annals of Republic history?

  Yoda explained that the dreaded Sith tend to come in twos: “Always two, there are. No more, no less. A Master, and an apprentice.” But did you know that the Sith didn’t always exist in pairs? That at one time in the ancient Republic there were as many Sith as Jedi, until a Sith Lord named Darth Bane was the lone survivor of a great Sith war and created the “Rule of Two”?

  All this and much, much more is brought to life in the many novels and comics of the Star Wars expanded universe. You’ve seen the movies and watched the cartoon. Now venture out into the wider worlds of Star Wars!

  Turn the page or jump to the timeline of Star Wars novels to learn more.

  1

  Commander Wedge Antilles would have preferred the ceremony to be private. Rogue Squadron had come to mourn the passing of one of its own on the week anniversary of his death. Wedge wanted the gathering to be small and intimate, with Corran Horn’s friends all being able to share remembrances of him, but that was not possible. Corran’s death had come during the liberation of Coruscant. That made him a hero from a company of heroes, and while a small memorial might have been what Corran himself would have wanted, it was not heroic enough for a figure of his posthumous stature.

  Even though Wedge had known things would not go quite the way he wanted, he had not anticipated how out of control they would get when he requested permission to hold the ceremony. He had expected a number of dignitaries would come to the pseudogranite barrow that marked where Corran had died when a building collapsed on top of him. He even anticipated people lining the balconies and walkways of nearby towers. At the very worst he imagined people might gawk from the beds of hovertrucks.

  His imagination paled beside that exercised by the bureaucrats who organized the memorial service. They took a ceremony based on heartfelt grief and made it into the focal point of mourning for the entire New Republic. Corran Horn was a hero—this they proclaimed loudly—but he was also a victim. As such he represented all the victims of the Empire. It didn’t matter to them that Corran would have rejected being labeled a victim. He had been transformed into a symbol—a symbol the New Republic needed badly.

  Rogue Squadron likewise underwent iconization. The unit’s pilots had always worn orange flightsuits in the past, or, as supplies became harder and harder to find, whatever had been handy. Corran’s flightsuit had been green, black, and grey, since he’d brought it with him from the Corellian Security Force. In homage to him, that color scheme was used to create new uniforms for the squadron: evergreen overall, with dark grey flank panels, black sleeves, leg stripes, and trim. On the left sleeve and breast rode the Rogue Squadron crest. It had also appeared on the evergreen hawkbilled caps designed by a Kuati, but Wedge had vetoed their addition to the uniform.

  The makeup of the Squadron had also been adjusted. Asyr Sei’lar, a Bothan pilot, and Inyri Forge, the sister of a dead squadron member, had both been added to the squadron. Wedge would have gladly welcomed them, and they had been crucial to the success of the mission to liberate Coruscant, but they had been pressed upon him for political reasons. Likewise, Portha, a Trandoshan, had been made a member of the squadron despite his inability to fly. He was attached to the unit as part of a previously nonexistent security detail. Each of them was appointed by bureaucrats as a reward to various constituencies in the New Republic, and Wedge hated their objectification.

  The ceremony grew out of all proportion until special grandstands had to be grafted to the nearby buildings and color-coded for the various levels of access people were to be accorded. Holocams had been stationed at various positions so the ceremony could be recorded and replayed on countless worlds. Despite the very real fears about contracting the highly contagious Krytos virus, the stands were packed to overflowing.

  He looked up from his position on the reviewing stand and out at Rogue Squadron. His people were bearing up well despite the bright sunlight and unseasonably warm weather. The recent rains had raised the general level of humidity until clothing clung and the very air lay like a smothering blanket over everyone. The thick air seemed to deaden sounds and suppress emotions, and Wedge was tempted to allow himself to imagine that Coruscant somehow also mourned Corran’s passing.

  In addition to the members of Rogue Squadron, Corran’s other friends stood on the platform nearest the barrow. Iella Wessiri, a slender, brown-haired woman who had been Corran’s CorSec partner, stood next to Mirax Terrik. Despite being the daughter of a notorious Corellian smuggler, Mirax had managed to become friends with Corran. Mirax, who had known Wedge since they had both been kids, had tearfully confided in him that she and Corran had planned to celebrate the liberation of Coruscant together. He could see she’d fallen hard for Corran, and the lifeless expression on her face made his heart ache.

  The only one who is missing is Tycho. Wedge frowned. Captain Tycho Celchu was a long-standing member of Rogue Squadron who had served as the squadron’s executive officer. He’d surreptitiously joined the mission to Coruscant at Wedge’s request and had been instrumental in bringing the planet
’s defenses down. His action was the latest in a string of heroic missions Tycho had carried off during his Rebel career.

  Unfortunately, Alliance Intelligence had developed evidence that indicated Tycho was working for the Empire. They blamed him directly not only for Corran’s death, but for the death of Bror Jace, another Rogue Squadron pilot who had died early on in the Coruscant campaign. Wedge had not been fully apprised of what the evidence was that they had against Tycho, but he did not doubt the man’s innocence for a second. Still, his innocence might mean nothing in the long run.

  In spite of the liberation, Coruscant was not a pleasant or stable world. A hideous epidemic—the Krytos virus—was ravaging the non-human population of the planet. It had struck at the non-humans in the Rebellion and was hard enough on some species that even coming down to the planet was an act of extreme bravery. Bacta, as usual, could cure the virus, but the Rebellion’s entire store of bacta was insufficient to cure everyone. This resulted in panic, and resentment against humans for their apparent immunity to the disease.

  The memorial service had become an important event because Coruscant’s population needed something to unite them and to get their minds off their suffering, even if only for a moment. The fact that Rogue Squadron had humans and non-humans working together in it showed the strength of unity that had allowed the Rebellion to prevail. Non-humans coming together along with dignitaries from various other worlds to mourn a dead human acknowledged the debt the Rebels owed humans. Speakers devoted themselves to exhorting their fellows to labor together in building a future that would justify the sacrifices made by Corran and others. Their words raised things to a philosophical or metaphysical level meant to soothe away the anxieties and worries of the citizens.