Star Wars - The Adventures of Alex Winger 5 - Mission to Zila

by Charlene Newcomb

  “What Grand Admiral?” Dair asked, a feeling of dread coming over him.

  “You have been out of it, haven’t you?” Nilo kidded him.

  “What Grand Admiral?” he insisted in a tone that caught Nilo off guard.

  “Calm down, Haslip! Some Grand Admiral has taken command of the fleet. Captain Emba from the Tempest told the general that his ship’s been called to a rendezvous out in the Borderlands with our old friends from the Judicator.”

  “What else have you heard about this Grand Admiral?” Dair asked.

  “Not much,” he said shaking his head. “Supposedly he’s been working in the Unknown Regions all these years since the Emperor died.”

  “And he’s reorganizing the fleet?”

  “Yeah. Emba said this guy’s a tactical genius.”

  “Genius, huh?”

  “Those were his exact words. Guess he’s planning something big — that’s why the Judicator hasn’t been here for a while.”

  For a moment Dair was lost in his own thoughts. Rumors circulated every so often about something big, as Nilo put it. But talk of a Grand Admiral — this was new. Could this Grand Admiral put the Empire back on the offensive? What would this mean to Garos IV?

  “Haslip?”

  “What?” Dair asked, vaguely aware of a buzzing coming from somewhere in the room.

  “You going to answer that or just let it buzz the rest of the day?” Nilo asked, an amused grin on his face.

  “Oh, yeah, right.” He cleared his throat and clicked the comlink on.

  “General Zakar’s office,” he paused, listening to the voice on the other end. He couldn’t help but smile. Some captain wanted the general to know that Air Defense Systems had nearly shot down Governor Winger’s airspeeder. Alex and her crazy stunts!

  “Yes, Captain. I’m sure the general will make your apologies to Governor Winger.” He paused, shaking his head. “Yes. sir. I’ll tell him that. Thank you for your call, sir.”

  Dair clicked off the comlink and saw that Nilo had been listening in on the conversation. They both had a good laugh over that one while Dair silently thanked the Force that Alex was all right. He couldn’t wait to hear her version of the story.

  “Alex!” Shana Turi called, waving to her friend. “On time — as usual!” she exclaimed.

  “You can always count on me! Hello, Shana,” Alex greeted her with a hug. “Any problem getting the afternoon off?” she asked.

  “No. I just told them I was having lunch with my good friend Alex and her father, our Imperial Governor.”

  “You name-dropper, you!” Alex laughed. “C’mon, let’s go!” she said as they climbed into Shana’s landspeeder.

  “I didn’t expect you for another 10 days. Tell me, is it just a coincidence that you came with your father?”

  “Not entirely.”

  “I didn’t think so. To tell you the truth, Alex, I was surprised when I heard he was coming to Zila.”

  “Imperial business. Which is why I thought I’d tag along,” Alex explained. “Father is hoping to pacify the locals. He really didn’t go into any details, but what’s been happening here since my last visit?” “Notice anything?” Shana asked as the speeder zipped through downtown Zila.

  “Looks like you’ve got a lot more Imperials in town. Are they just visiting, or do you think they’re going to stay for a while?”

  “Just sit tight and I think I can answer that question. Check the package in my case.”

  Alex studied the holos that members of Shana’s underground cell had provided. “These were taken at the spaceport?”

  Shana nodded. “Late yesterday afternoon.”

  “Any idea what these modular units are?” she asked, though from her own knowledge of Imperial equipment she could make an intelligent guess. And she didn’t like it one bit.

  “No. But they’ve been moved into the mountains.”

  Who, or what, in Zila does the Empire plan to protect with a planet defender, Alex wondered.

  Twenty minutes later, Shana stopped the landspeeder at the top of Mount Berin on the outskirts of Zila. From its crest, the young women could see the ancient city spread out before them. Beyond the old stone turrets that lined Zila’s waterfront, the Cabalia Sea was an endless carpet of blue to the horizon.

  Shana handed Alex the macrobinoculars. “Check out the view at 0-1-0,” she said.

  “Whoa!”

  High atop a mountain to the east, construction droids were busy setting up an Imperial garrison. Cranes mounted atop the droids hoisted sections of the pre-fab units commonly seen on bases throughout the Empire. Technicians and support personnel scurried around the compound, checking the work in progress. “Imperial Headquarters, Southern Sector,” Shana said.

  Alex shook her head. “No wonder Councilor Baro wants reassurance about the Empire’s objectives here,” Alex commented.

  “Look toward the far western edge —”

  “What is that?”

  “Storage facility. That’s where they moved those units.”

  Alex frowned. KDY v-150s in storage? How strange, she thought, as she studied the rest of the compound. “And I see they’re building a shuttle landing platform, too. Busy, aren’t they?” she said sarcastically.

  “Crews have been working on it since late last night,” Shana told her.

  “What about security?”

  “Two squads of scout troopers, plus a company of stormtroopers.”

  Alex grimaced to herself and wondered what the Imperials were up to. “Okay. Continue to document all traffic to and from the mountain, all schedules, shift changes — you know the routine. I’ll need holos of the base, too. Our people will want to have a look at this.”

  “You’ll have them before you leave today,” Shana told her as she kicked the landspeeder back into gear.

  Alex took one last look at the rising structures before they headed around a curve. A feeling of dread swept over her, and the air suddenly seemed cold —

  A vision of a snowy mountainside filled her consciousness. It was a vision she’d had many times, but never in such detail — two figures, dressed in white, were barely visible against the white backdrop. The wind howled. Snow whipped around their bodies. They rappelled down the side of the mountain, stopping on a ledge that jutted out no more than half a meter.

  Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew. Alex felt herself falling backwards, sliding down the face of the mountain. She grasped at the smooth surface of ice. But it yielded nothing to hold on to.

  Then, unspoken words penetrated her being — calm, be calm.

  Seconds passed. The rope went taut. She was afraid to look up. afraid any movement might jar the rope loose from whatever tenuous grasp had caught it.

  Somewhere, above the shrieking wind, she could hear a voice calling her name. “Alex,” he said, “take my hand.”

  “I — can’t!” she cried.

  “You can do it,” he said.

  She gazed up at the figure who called her. Perched perhaps a half meter above her head was a man she’d seen in many dreams — a man with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. He was leaning down, stretching his hand out to hers. “Take my hand.” he said again, his voice almost hypnotic.

  Alex slowly moved one arm over her head. With all her might, she stretched her hand over the icy slope until their fingertips met.

  She sensed an energy surround her — it seemed to push her closer to him. He grabbed her hand tightly and pulled her up beside him.

  They both stood pressed against the side of the mountain, trying to catch their breath. Every muscle in her body ached, but she gathered strength from the energy that flowed from his presence. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

  “You okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded her head. “I’m all right —”

  The boom of distant thunder brought Alex back. Shana was staring at her, a concerned look on her face.

  “Alex, you’re shaking! Are you all right?”
<
br />   She managed to nod as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. She felt so cold, as if she had just been on that snowy mountainside. She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes.

  Where was that mountain? Why did it dominate her dreams? And who was that man? Why did he seem so familiar to her?

  Who are you?

  “Alex,” Magir Paca said, “looks like you’ve brought some interesting items from Zila.” He queried the faces of the leaders of the underground who had gathered in the operations center. “If no one has any objections, let’s begin with your report.”

  “Yes, Alex. Any idea what these modular units are the Empire has delivered to Zila?” Dr. Carl Barzon asked, pointing at the holos they’d passed around the conference table.

  “Yes,” Desto Mayda asked. “Why this surge of activity around Zila?”

  “Just north of the city, the Empire is constructing a major new base. They’ve housed the units in a storage facility — here,” she said, pointing to the second group of holos that were making their way around the table. “And I hate to say it, gentlemen,” Alex told them, “but those modular units look like parts of a v-150 planet defender.”

  “What?” Mayda bellowed, his cheeks flushing bright red with anger.

  Barzon closed his eyes and rubbed a hand across his forehead, not wanting to believe what he’d just heard.

  “Dair, can you confirm this?” Paca asked.

  “Alex is right about the holos. The units being stored by the Imperials in Zila are parts for KDY v-150s — heavy ion cannon. But those weapons aren’t to defend Zila.” He paused, looking at each face in turn. “They’ll be set up at the mining center.”

  There was an audible gasp in the room.

  “Heavy ion cannon? Right here in Ariana?” Mayda finally exclaimed.

  Dair nodded as his friends tried to digest this information. “I do have one bit of good news,” he told them.

  “Well, we certainly could use some!” Paca said, hoping to lighten the mood of these people who had worked so hard to bring an end to the Imperial domination of their world.

  Hopeful eyes focused on Dair. “They’ve run into a little problem.” he explained. “They’ve got to wait until a plasma drill is delivered before digging the shaft that houses the reactor.”

  Well, that was good news, sort of.

  “Why are they storing the units in Zila?” Dr. Barzon asked.

  “They decided Zila was more isolated. Far removed from the underground activity that has plagued Ariana,” Dair told the group.

  Mayda was nodding his head slowly, as a smile cracked the face wrinkled less by age than by stress. “And Zila has not seen such activity,” he said calmly.

  Not yet, Alex thought. She could sense the minds at work. The underground would soon make its presence known in Zila.

  “New base in Zila, more defenses at the mines — it sounds as if the Empire is digging in here on Garos.” Barzon observed.

  “No, I don’t think so, Doctor. With the imminent fall of Coruscant, we’re hearing a lot of talk at Headquarters,” Dair said. “But the general feeling seems to be that the Empire is pumping up security here just long enough to get that ore transported from the mines to their secret research facility.”

  “So, you think they’ll evacuate Garos?” Paca asked.

  “If there is any indication that the New Republic is headed this way, I think you’ll see a massive pullout of personnel.”

  “When is delivery expected for this plasma drill?” Mayda asked. “Nothing definite, but the chatter on the comm seems to indicate we can’t expect anything for at least two weeks. There’s something going on — a rendezvous out in the Borderlands.” Dair explained.

  “A rendezvous?” Paca repeated.

  Dair nodded solemnly. As if they hadn’t heard enough bad news. “Rumor has it that a Grand Admiral has returned from the Unknown Regions. He’s reorganizing the fleet.”

  “A Grand Admiral? Force be with us!” Mayda exclaimed.

  Alex felt shock waves as every mind in the room reacted to this dreadful announcement. Like the others, she was stunned. Rumors of the New Republic’s push toward Coruscant had given the freedom fighters of Garos IV hope that help would be on the way. Now another threat darkened their vision of a free Garos. How much longer would their world remain in Imperial hands?

  Paca finally spoke. “All right, my friends. I’m afraid we’ll have to let the New Republic worry about this Grand Admiral.”

  “We must concentrate our efforts on the Imperials here,” Dr. Barzon agreed.

  “Let’s assume we have those two weeks before the plasma drill gets delivered.” Paca said. “They’ll never suspect an attack on that base in Zila.”

  “Can our operatives there destroy the units in the storage facility?” Mayda asked.

  “They’re not equipped for a mission like this,” Paca said.

  “What can we do to help?” Dair asked.

  “Desto, make arrangements with our people to begin moving into Zila immediately.”

  Mayda nodded, making a note on his datapad.

  “Alex, when do you visit our friend again?” Paca asked.

  “Eight days.”

  “You can deliver some weapons for our people in Zila. I’ll contact our man at the spaceport and have your airspeeder prepped with a few extras.”

  “All right.”

  Paca picked up the holos from the table, eyeing them thoughtfully. “I don’t think the Empire needs to worry about delivering that plasma drill.” He shook his head slowly. “They won’t have any ion cannon to put at the mining center anyway.”

  Alex sat in the underground ops center in Ariana. She’d wanted to help her comrades in Zila, but Paca was convinced her presence there for the third time in two weeks could arouse suspicion. So, here she was, waiting like everyone else, for news from Zila.

  It had been a long afternoon. She glanced at the chrono above the comm intercept stations — still another half hour before the team was scheduled to penetrate the base.

  She closed her eyes to rest for a few minutes. And suddenly, in her mind’s eye, she could see a supply skiff pulling up to the Imperial compound in Zila —

  “Look, Lieutenant, my orders say to deliver these supplies to the storage facility. Can I just drop them off?” Chance told the officer at the gate.

  “I have no record of this shipment.”

  “With everything that’s been coming and going off the mountain, that doesn’t surprise me.” Chance said, knowing the officer had probably experienced bureaucratic mess-ups before.

  “Yes, that’s true.” He hesitated for a moment. “All right, go ahead.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Chance called as he guided the skiff past the perimeter gate. He took a deep breath and glanced at his chronometer. Just a few more minutes.

  He studied the layout of the compound as he proceeded. The underground unit in Zila had provided a detailed map — hadn’t missed a thing as far as he could tell. Observation towers were still under construction, but the garrison itself looked ready to house some of the thousands of military personnel the underground estimated would move in any day. A shuttle platform loomed over the area. Good, he thought, the walker docks are deserted. There had been no reports of any AT-ATs in the area.

  As the skiff moved behind the garrison toward the storage facility on the extreme western end of the compound. Chance tapped on one of the crates. Two men quietly emerged from their hiding place and jumped unnoticed off the skiff. They never looked back.

  Chance pulled up to loading dock at the storage facility. He approached the duty officer.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” he said, handing the man a data card with forged, though well-documented orders from Imperial authorities in Zila.

  “What is this?” the lieutenant asked, pointing toward the skiff.

  “Don’t know, sir. Some men from Major Rena’s office in Zila loaded the crates. I just transported them up here.”

  T
he officer studied the information on the data pad. Nothing unusual. Mostly supplies that the Major wanted here when his new office was complete.

  “Okay, let’s get this stuff unloaded so we can call it quits for today.”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me. sir,” Chance agreed, as the officer waved two technicians over to help unload the skiff.

  Suddenly, a violent explosion rocked the garrison.

  “What the —” the officer exclaimed.

  A split second later, the underground opened fire with blaster rifles and heavy artillery from the hillsides outside the compound.

  Chance pulled his blaster, and with only a second’s hesitation he shot the two technicians and the shocked duty officer before they had any chance to figure out he wasn’t on their side.

  Stormtroopers patrolling the grounds reacted quickly. Their heavy blaster rifles were trained on the hillsides. Others scoured the compound trying to identify an enemy that remained unseen. Scout troopers sped outside the compound — some were caught in a vicious crossfire.

  Two more diversionary explosions shook the garrison. Then the unmistakable whoosh of a Plex missile sounded overhead. The shuttle platform wobbled as it was struck. A second missile, then a third, exploded against one of its supports, neatly amputating the leg from the platform. The noise was deafening as the landing platform crashed to the ground.

  Chance disregarded all the action around him and got down to business. He tossed a grenade inside the storage facility. Shots rang out from inside the building. He lobbed a second grenade through the open door. Across the compound, an Imperial officer spotted him and fired. A shot blew past his head as he dove inside the building. He rolled behind some neatly stacked containers left undisturbed by his attack. His blaster was ready, but the grenades had silenced all resistance.

  Moving quickly around the room. Chance attached charges to a half dozen of the modular units. Two stormtroopers charged through the front entrance of the building just as he completed his task. There were precious few seconds to waste — those charges were going to blow and he didn’t plan on being in the room when they did.