36

By the time the Lusankya reverted to realspace, Captain Drysso had constructed a complete rationalization for his actions. He knew it was just that: a thin fabric of facts, circumstances and lies that would probably crumble under Isard’s scrutiny. The fact remained, though, that he needed an explanation, and it was the best he could come up with.

It all started with the premise that Antilles’s station would kill the Lusankya. This he knew and had the sensor reports to back it up. Isard herself had made it very clear that preserving the Lusankya was vital, so disengaging when given the opportunity to do so was the only choice he had. With the station being as heavily armed as it was, the only prudent course of action would be to cordon it off and let the inhabitants starve until they chose to surrender.

Once disengagement had been mandated, the next course of action had also been obvious. He had sensor reports to indicate Antilles, the War Cruiser, and dozens of freighters had headed out for Thyferra. That was a much larger taskforce than Isard had anticipated being used against Thyferra. Only by returning home at flank speed could the Lusankya be in position to destroy that taskforce. In fact, it seemed rather obvious, that without the Lusankya’s help, the Thyferran Home Defense Corps would be overwhelmed.

He had no choice but to return to Thyferra.

He realized that abandoning his TIE fighters at Yag’Dhul could be criticized, but he could even explain that away. The TIEs were meant to supplement the Virulence’s defenses—the fighters could track and shoot down missiles before they could strike the Imperial Star Destroyer. He also expected them to get in close enough to the station to destroy launchers and then complete the destruction of the station. That his pilots were dead if both the station and the Virulence were destroyed meant little to him—they had their duty to do just as he had his. If he remained to pick them up, he would have been destroyed.

Standing before the bridge viewport, he anticipated reversion into a battlefield. As the light tunnel melted away into a scattering of stars, he saw the green-and-white ball of Thyferra above him. No X-wings swooped about. No TIEs filled the void with green laser fire. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, just freighter traffic and a few system patrols.

Drysso slammed a fist off the transparisteel viewport. He’d been had by Antilles. The feint at Thyferra had drawn him off, causing him to sacrifice the Virulence. The Rogues probably abandoned the station except for a handful of volunteers who were willing to trade their lives for that of the Virulence. The convoy I saw heading away from Yag’Dhul probably moved to another base—a base we’ll have to search out, all the while enduring more hit-and-run attacks by the Rogues.

Lieutenant Waroen’s voice cut through the cocoon of mortification closing around Drysso’s mind. “Captain, we have an Imperial Star Destroyer reverting to realspace twenty-five kilometers to our aft.”

How did Varrscha get the Virulence out of there? Drysso looked over at the holoprojector pad. “Yesti, open a comm channel to that ship. Captain Varrscha, how did you get away?”

It took him a moment to recognize the holographic image facing him, but when he did he felt a cold hand tighten around his heart. “Captain Drysso, I fear you’ve mistaken my Freedom for your Virulence.” Captain Sair Yonka smiled at him. “Don’t say you’re happy to see me—you won’t be.”

“Captain Drysso, the Freedom is deploying snubfighters, X-wings and Uglies.”

Drysso stopped before he ordered his own nonexistent fighters into battle. “Contact the planet and have the THDC’s squadrons scrambled. I want all their fighters up here protecting me. Helm, bring us about to engage the Freedom.” He pointed a finger at Yonka’s image. “I don’t think, sir, when all is said and done, you will be happy that I’ve seen you.”

The abundant undergrowth around the Xucphra corporate headquarters provided Iella and her people the means to get within twenty-five meters of the back entrance. They had expected to walk up to it, set a little lock-popping charge on it, blow it open, and be inside before much of an alarm could be raised. Ten meters along the corridor beyond the transparisteel door they’d be in the building’s security center and would be able to control alarms and access to corridors and turbolifts.

But now there are two stormtroopers standing guard at the door. At first glance they looked to be the genuine articles, but Iella noticed they chatted back and forth quite a bit. THDC banthas in rancor clothing. Even so, the strip of open ground she needed to cover was enough that the guards, no matter how poorly trained, should be able to cut her down. Because they had been prepared for a close assault, none of her people carried a blaster rifle, just carbines and pistols, so killing both of them from cover was impossible. We might hit them with carbine shots at this range, but the armor means we don’t have a guaranteed kill.

She needed a diversion, but the only real option she had was to use an explosive charge to distract them. The problem with that idea was that if it didn’t kill them, they’d undoubtedly report the explosion, providing more of an alert to the forces inside than she wanted. She reached for her comlink to ask Elscol to divert some of her people to help out, when a TIE fighter screamed overhead at treetop level.

As a second and third TIE screeched past, Iella saw the door guards look up and point at the starfighters. One even took his helmet off to get a better look, tucking his headgear under his arm. Without a second thought Iella stood and strode from the undergrowth in their direction, shielding her carbine from sight with her body and turning her head to likewise watch the starfighters fly past.

A full dozen of the fighters roared out of their hangar, letting Iella know Wedge and his people had finally arrived. Now if I can just do my part. She looked up at the guards, smiling at them, as she reached the base of the stairs leading to the door.

“ ’Scuse us, ma’am, but you can’t be here.” The helmet-less guard leaned his blaster carbine against the wall and began to fumble with his helmet again. “Restricted area.”

“Oh, sorry.” Iella reinforced her smile, then brought her blaster carbine up. She scythed fire back and forth, burning holes in the white plastoid armor over the guards’ chests and bellies. The helmet fell from lifeless hands and bounced down the ferrocrete stairs as she ran up past it. She stepped over the body of one guard, then leveled her carbine at the door’s lock and triggered a burst of scarlet fire that vaporized it.

Before she could push the door in with her foot, two Ashern Vratix reached the landing. With their powerful legs they kicked the guards’ bodies off the landing. Brandishing blaster pistols fitted with adapters to accommodate their thick-fingered hands, the Ashern warriors bulled their way through the door and stalked down the hallway.

The security station’s duraplast door crumpled beneath a Vratix kick. The Vratix went in, and lurid blue backlighting accompanied their assault. Iella arrived at the doorway seconds behind them and went in with her carbine ready, but all three of the Xucphra security police were out. Two had never even had a chance to draw their blasters and all three lay in pools of steaming caf.

“Definitely picked the wrong time to be taking a break. Secure them so they won’t be a problem when they wake up.” Two human resistance fighters complied with her orders while a third dropped into the chair at the center of the building’s security console. “Can you shut this place down, Jesfa?”

“Can a Vratix jump?” The dark-haired commando pointed at the twin banks of four monitors atop the console. “These provide views of various sites around the building—one for each of six floors and the two towers. I can see everything and,” he added as he settled his fingers on the keyboard, “from here I can shut everything down. This is the same system I used to use when I worked security for Zaltin.”

“Good. Lock everything down except for one turbolift. Secure the shuttle hangars in the towers and open up the main entrance.”

“Consider it done. I’ll shift my comlink to Tac-two so I can keep you apprised of anything I see.”

Iella smiled. “Do that, but don’t be surprised if they shoot the holocams out. I would.”

She patted him on the shoulder, then fished her comlink out of her pocket. “Hook to Blade, we’re in. The way is clear for you.”

“On our way, Hook.” Elscol sounded happy for the first time Iella could remember. “Good work.”

Erisi Dlarit’s anger at having her squadron last in the long line of Thyferran Home Defense Corps fliers heading out to engage the Rebels made her tighten her grip on the Interceptor’s controls. Might Squadron, a group of green pilots that shared hangar facilities with her Elite Squadron, had been scrambled immediately. They take their name to mean strength, but we’ve always considered it the answer to the question “Will they fight?”

She’d had to place a call to Isard’s office to find out why her pilots had not been called up, but no one there answered. Exercising the discretion her position gave her, Erisi immediately scrambled her own squadron. Better we’re destroyed in space than destroyed on the ground.

The instant she became airborne, Erisi pulled tactical data from ground control and didn’t like what she saw. An Imperial Star Destroyer and an Alderaanian War Cruiser were moving to engage the Lusankya. The Imperial Star Destroyer had rolled and was flying along so its hull was perpendicular to that of the Lusankya. This would allow the Impstar’s port gunners to be shooting down the top of the Super Star Destroyer. The Alderaanian War Cruiser worked back toward the Lusankya’s aft; and once it worked its way in past the system’s freighter traffic, it would be able to attack the larger ship’s engines.

The snubfighters deployed by the Impstar were closing in formation on the Lusankya. The THDC fighter squadrons coming up to oppose them were not flying together, but were strung out so the Rogues would engage them piecemeal. That’s suicidal.

Erisi punched up a tactical frequency on her comm unit. “Elite Lead to Virile Lead. Slack your speed and let Might Squadron join up with you.”

“No can do, Elite Lead. We have our orders.”

“Consider them countermanded. Make sense, this is Rogue Squadron you’re facing.”

“And it’s Rogue Squadron we’ll be killing. For the glory of Thyferra.”

Erisi popped her comm unit over the tactical frequency the Elites used. “Stay tight, Elites. We’re going for the Rogues. Let’s hope our comrades tire them out.”

Wedge watched the tactical feed coming from the Valiant and felt a cold chill creep up his spine. “What are they doing? Why are they coming in at us like that?”

His R5 unit whistled curtly.

Wedge glanced at his monitor and smiled. “That was a rhetorical question, Gate. You wouldn’t have sufficient data to be able to calculate an answer.” After his last outing, Wedge had let the techs wipe Mynock’s memory and upgrade his software. Because of the modifications Zraii made on the droid, he also learned the droid’s designation had been changed to R5-G8, which he just truncated into Gate. “Give me a check on the transponder.”

Another quick whistle announced it was in full working order.

Wedge keyed his comm unit. “Thirty seconds to the first wave of TIEs. Remember, our goal is to get at the Lusankya, not to spend our time dogfighting up here. Kill what you must, but keep with the mission. Two, stay with me.”

“As ordered, Lead,” came Asyr’s reply.

Wedge flicked his lasers over to dual-fire mode, picked a target among the incoming TIEs, then waited for his aiming reticle to go red. As it did he tightened up on the trigger, letting two bursts of fire go, then dove away from the hissing green laser fire splashing against his forward screen.

His maneuver prevented him from seeing what happened to his target, but Gate dispassionately flashed the message “Target eliminated” in bloodred letters at the bottom of the monitor. Maybe Mynock wasn’t really that bad. Wedge glanced at his sensor readouts and saw only a pair of TIEs in his wake. Everyone got one, nice shooting. He decided to leave the other two for the Twi’lek Chir’daki pilots following them in.

Gate hooted at him.

“Thanks, Gate, I’ve got thirty seconds to the next TIE wave.” He opened the tactical comm channel. “Tighten it up, Rogues. Two more squadrons, then we should be clear to go in.”