23

Wedge Antilles was glad Colonel Vessery remained silent as they walked through the interloper’s base. Wedge didn’t know where they were and respected Vessery’s being tight-lipped about their location. The base looked relatively new and decidedly Imperial, with personnel being almost entirely human, mostly male, and outfitted with Imperial uniforms.

Broak Vessery could have stepped from a recruiting poster. He stood a bit taller than Wedge, with black hair that was beginning to lighten at the temples and sharp, noble features. His grip was firm when they met face-to-face for the first time and shook hands. He chose his words carefully, it seemed to Wedge, and had a nervous habit of picking all-but-invisible pieces of lint from the sleeves of his black jumpsuit.

Wedge walked beside him and realized that he ought to be drinking in more of the base’s details. The two squadrons that had come to rescue the Rogues had more TIE Defenders in them than Wedge thought had ever been manufactured. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that the base belonged to High Admiral Teradoc or even had been set up by Grand Admiral Thrawn. And if that’s the case, I should be gathering all sorts of intelligence here.

The industrious portion of his mind couldn’t shift the weight of his emotions and the numbness he felt inside. He’d lost four pilots in the Distna ambush. While part of him acknowledged that survival rate was miraculous considering the odds they faced, the pilots resisted becoming statistics. Lyyr and Slee had been relatively new to the squadron, but the fact that he identified them by their first names meant they’d gotten past the defenses he usually raised against getting to know new pilots.

Asyr’s loss sent a chill through him. He’d liked her and admired how she had defied the Bothan hierarchy in continuing her membership in the squadron and her relationship with Gavin. Asyr never compromised or backed down from a fight. Her spirit and determination had always pushed everyone in the squadron to perform at their highest level. The pride that the Bothans felt in her exploits meant Borsk Fey’lya and other politicians left the squadron largely alone.

Wes Janson’s death—Wedge couldn’t even begin to think about it without feeling an invisible hand squeeze his heart. He’d known Wes for what seemed like forever. They’d been through everything together since just after Yavin to when the squadron had been re-formed. After the overthrow of Isard’s regime on Thyferra, Janson had joined Wedge in running Wraith Squadron, then had stuck with him during the Thrawn crisis. Though Janson’s sense of humor rankled from time to time, Wedge would have given his right arm to have Janson pop up with a quick “Yub, yub, Commander.”

Vessery looked over at Wedge. “I don’t wish to intrude on your thoughts, but I have two things to say to you.”

Wedge sniffed and blinked. “Please, Colonel.”

“First, I wish my people and I had gotten there sooner. I count the deaths of your people as failures on my part. Traveling through hyperspace seldom allows one to get split-second rescues right, but I should have. If I had trimmed some margins on some of the courses, we’d have been there on time.”

Vessery’s voice came low and sincere, bringing a solemn nod from Wedge. “Thank you, Colonel. You couldn’t know exactly when they would strike, so it’s not your fault. The fact that you did arrive means we lived, and for that I’ll be eternally grateful.”

“You are too kind, General.” Vessery paused before a door. “The second thing I would like to say to you is this: The person you’ll meet in here is responsible for our arrival. Without orders originating from this office, Rogue Squadron would be dead. Try to remember that.”

Wedge frowned. “You shouldn’t believe Imperial propaganda, Colonel. New Republic officers can be very grateful and gracious.”

“Good.” Vessery punched a code into the keypad on the lockplate and the door slid open. He waved Wedge into the darkened room. “After you.”

Wedge entered the darkness boldly, striding ahead for the full length of the patch of light streaming in through the door. When the door closed and cut off the illumination, he stopped and clasped his hands at the small of his back. He heard the scrape of Vessery’s boots on the floor as the other pilot joined him.

The lights in the room came slowly up, infusing an orange glow into the wooden strips that formed the walls, floor, and ceiling of the oval room. The woods had been fitted together with such precision and artistry that the growth rings and grain formed exquisite patterns in which the casual observer could easily become lost. Cabinets built into the walls were faced with great slabs of golden brown wood featuring wonderful grain markings into and out of which the wall designs flowed. While everything remained static, the eye was drawn through an intricate tracery of lines that made the room seem alive.

The desk across from the door had likewise been fashioned of heavily patterned wood and seemed as if it had grown up out of the floor. The back of the chair behind it rose above the head of the person seated in it and matched the wood designs of the wall. It took Wedge a moment to recognize who he was looking at, then that realization tightened his guts and threatened to drop him to his knees.

He couldn’t remember ever having seen her in the flesh, but her image had been burned into his brain during the years after Endor. She still wore the scarlet uniform that had been her trademark, though her hair had gone completely white and her face and figure had thickened slightly. She was still a handsome woman, but had slipped beyond middle age toward becoming a matron.

Any thought that she might have softened was banished by her eyes. One, a bright, icy blue, reminded him of the coldest day on Hoth, when ice screamed and cracked. The other, a fiery red, burned into him, searing his spirit. He’d thought her dead at Thyferra and even though the Commenor prisoners had said they’d seen her, he’d refused to believe she lived until he saw her now.

Wedge’s brown eyes narrowed. “General Wedge Antilles reporting.”

Ysanne Isard stood slowly behind her desk. “You know who I am. It is interesting that we have not met before, you and I, having been foes for so long. I expected you to be taller.”

“I expected you to be dead.”

She nodded. “Defiant, I like that. It makes you an interesting enemy and, I trust, a more interesting ally.”

Wedge blinked. “Me, an ally? After what you did with the prisoners on Commenor, leaving them to starve like that?” He turned to Colonel Vessery. “You can take me away from here now.”

Isard raised her hand. “If you will indulge me, General, I will explain a great many things to you. You owe me at least that much, since I sent Colonel Vessery to save you.”

That remark brought Wedge’s chin up. “After all you have done, the debt I feel to you for saving us is still very small.”

“Of this I have no doubt.” Isard leaned forward on her desk. “After I had taken control of Thyferra and you began your campaign to oust me, I realized that if you succeeded, I wished to rob you of the goal you truly sought: the prisoners from my Lusankya. I decided to scatter them. This was a mission I felt I could entrust to no one—it was one I wanted to handle myself, but I was needed on Thyferra. What I did was activate a clone of myself, lead her to believe she was me, and charge her with the task of scattering the Lusankya prisoners. When she returned to Thyferra with her task complete, I had her killed—or so I thought.”

Isard’s face hardened as scorn entered her voice. “Your assault on Thyferra meant the job was not completed and the clone survived. How and why she was not recognized as me, I have no idea, but she believes she truly is me. She spent the time during the Thrawn crisis gathering the Lusankya prisoners back up and now has them ensconced on Ciutric.”

Wedge shook his head. “Explain the prisoners on Commenor.”

“Bait, for a trap.” Isard shook her head. “She wanted to lure Rogue Squadron to Distna so you could be ambushed, but she did a poor job of layering her clues into the site. She was trying to be too smart and too clever. Mirax Terrik and Iella Wessiri returned to Commenor and discovered the clues she’d left there, but you were already in the Hegemony and involved in the war against Krennel, so the Lusankya rescue became of secondary importance. She never saw that.”

“But we went to Distna because of the Pulsar Station problem.”

Isard smiled and Wedge decided that her smile was not a pleasant thing to see. “Yes, and Krennel’s protestations of innocence sounded genuine because they were. The lab you discovered on Liinade Three was one I had constructed there. I wanted you to go to Distna because I wanted Colonel Vessery to help you defeat Krennel’s people. Without rendering that sort of direct aid to you, you never would believe that I could be your ally.”

“I don’t believe it now.” Wedge’s eyes became slits. “You could have sent an embassy to the New Republic if you sought an alliance.”

She snorted a laugh. “They’d no more have believed it than you do, but you already know things that point to my sincerity.”

“Such as?”

“Such as my ability to build the lab on Liinade Three. That means I have thoroughly compromised Krennel’s security. How? My clone is using the procedures and codes I would have used. In this same way I knew she wanted to ambush you at Distna, so I arranged for you to be saved. As far as the New Republic and Krennel are concerned, however, both forces wiped each other out. This means no one knows you are alive, which is something I also desired.”

Wedge thought for a moment. Isard’s point about having compromised Krennel’s security was right, and she had sent Vessery and his people to spoil the clone’s ambush. Granted, Isard got us there, too, with the Pulsar Station decoy, but the clone’s clues would have been found and led us there in any event. Isard had put together an elaborate charade that had Rogue Squadron dead, and therefore, she had an ulterior motive in mind.

“What is it you want, Isard?”

She sighed heavily and let her head slump forward. “My battle with you, my ouster from Thyferra, and even Thrawn’s unsuccessful campaign to reestablish the Empire has shown me that the cause I held dear is dead. This does not mean I like the New Republic or consider it an improvement over the Empire. I just no longer have the will to oppose it. I want peace. I want to be left alone.”

She heaved her torso up and opened her arms. “After escaping Thyferra I made my way to this place, one of many hidden facilities within the Empire. A General Arnothian was in charge here. This facility is capable of producing TIE Defenders, and Arnothian saw himself as a warlord in training. He refused to relinquish control of the station to me, so he was dealt with. I watched events unfold throughout the Thrawn crisis but chose not to intervene. I realized this place could be a base from which I could continue a campaign of terror against the New Republic, but to do so would be to sully the commitment to the Empire made by Colonel Vessery and his men.

“I realized that for us to be sanctioned by the New Republic, I would have to offer them a grand prize, and offer it in a manner that would not cost them a lot of blood. I decided that prize would be Delak Krennel and his Hegemony. I decided I would put into position the forces that would allow the New Republic to take Ciutric and shatter his power, and I decided Rogue Squadron would be the key to that operation.”

Wedge frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.” Isard smiled and touched a button on a datapad on her desk. An image of a man with a metal prosthesis covering the right side of his face, replacing that eye, and an artificial right forearm and hand burned to life in the middle of the room. “You will recall your posing as Colonel Antar Roat?”

A trickle of ice ran through Wedge’s guts. “I assumed the Roat identity when slipping onto Coruscant to liberate it.”

“I have taken the liberty of updating Roat’s profile to reflect his being in charge of an experimental unit—two full flights—of TIE Defenders. You are in the process of negotiating a deal with Krennel that will bring your force in as part of his troops. You are one of many Imperials offering their services to him. You’ll be able to slip into Ciutric and wreak havoc there. What you did on Imperial Center to free it, you can do on Ciutric.”

Wedge ran a hand over his stubbly chin. “You’ll give us Krennel to get the New Republic to leave you alone?”

“I do not expect public rehabilitation, just a quiet retirement.” Isard smiled coldly. “As for why Krennel, you know as well as I do that he defied my orders in the Pestage matter. I also want my clone eliminated. One of me is enough.”

“I heartily concur.”

“I thought you might.” Isard opened her hands. “You and your people will begin training in Defenders immediately. We will work up a plan of attack that will involve a New Republic fleet. When the attack is set, you will communicate with the New Republic to let them know when to strike. We can’t communicate with them too early because my clone still has some intelligence resources in the New Republic. If there is a leak, the mission will be doomed.”

Wedge nodded, then looked up. “If we refuse to help you?”

Isard arched an eyebrow at him. “Refuse?”

Vessery cleared his throat. “If you refuse, General, then my men will go into Ciutric in your place. Krennel will fall, but not quite so bloodlessly. He has to.” The Imperial pilot rested a hand on Wedge’s shoulder. “Despite our differences, you and I are united in the knowledge that Krennel is a scourge on the Hegemony’s people. He must be dealt with, and with your help, his disposition will bring other warlords in line.”

Wedge felt a shiver run down his spine. I know I can’t trust you, Isard, but I also know that if I don’t go along with your plan, you can kill me and my people, and no one will know you’re out here until too late. I don’t know what your plan is, but I know you have one, and that, for now, is enough.

He nodded slowly. “I hate to think you and I are of like mind in anything, Isard, but the desire to see Krennel taken down seems to qualify. Rogue Squadron is at your disposal. Let’s get started.”