27

Admiral Ackbar closed his eyes for a second, then nodded to his aide. “I suppose the tide is high, so I cannot escape it. Please show Councilor Fey’lya in.”

The human aide departed, giving Ackbar a moment of silence in which he could prepare for the coming confrontation. No, Ackbar, if you assume bitter water, you’ll not taste the sweet. The Admiral refused to consider the Bothan a rival for power, primarily because Ackbar himself had no desire for power in any political sense of the word. He had risen to his position at the head of the Alliance military because of his intimate knowledge of Imperial doctrines—learned while he was Grand Moff Tarkin’s slave—and because the Mon Calamari had contributed their considerable fleet to bolster the Rebel Navy for the battle at Endor. Once the Empire was defeated and his services were no longer needed, he would happily retire to Mon Calamari and spend the rest of his days living through tide cycles.

He realized his refusal to see Borsk Fey’lya as a rival probably was shortsighted, but he could not afford the distraction. With the death of General Laryn Kre’fey at Borleias, the Bothans had lost their most celebrated military leader. The Bothans had no other candidate to offer as viable for running grand operations like the taking of Coruscant.

Which meant any Bothan agenda had to go through Ackbar.

Which is why Fey’lya has come to me now.

The hatch to Ackbar’s cabin on Home One opened and Borsk Fey’lya entered the dimly lit office. Ackbar started to adjust the lighting upward, but the Bothan shook his head. “Be comfortable, Admiral, I can see well enough in this light.”

The subdued tones of Fey’lya’s voice, and the conciliatory nature of his words, immediately put Ackbar on his guard. “You honor me with your visit, Councilor.”

Fey’lya held a gold-furred hand up. “Please, the formality of titles is unnecessary between us. We have not always been on the same side, nor do you probably consider me a friend, but you do acknowledge the bond we share within the Rebellion.”

“Of course.” Ackbar nodded slowly. “You came to speak to me about Noquivzor.”

“Indeed. The reports I have gotten were sketchy.”

Ackbar sat back in his eggshell repulsorlift chair. “You have the basics: one standard day ago Warlord Zsinj showed up in the system with the Iron Fist, launched a wing of TIEs, and proceeded with a planetary bombardment. Our base there was hit hard, though since most of it was underground, the damage was not as extensive as Zsinj undoubtedly would like to think.”

Fey’lya’s purple eyes glowed luminescently in the half-light. “We met on Noquivzor approximately seven standard weeks ago. Do you think this was a misguided assassination attempt?”

Ackbar thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Unlikely. If he killed the Rebellion leadership he would make himself a target. I suspect he thought he was attacking Rogue Squadron, to pay them back for hitting his ships. His facility for carrying a grudge is all but legendary. We made no secret of where Rogue Squadron was staying primarily to keep the Empire looking at Noquivzor instead of closer to home.”

“How badly was Noquivzor hit?”

Ackbar’s eyes half closed. “We had major damage to the barracks complex. Multiple floors collapsed one atop another. We will be a long time digging bodies out. Rogue Squadron lost a significant portion of their support staff. The hangar complex, on the other horizon, escaped damage. When we get them back from Coruscant they will have ships to fly.”

“Even the worst plague will spare some of the virtuous.” The Bothan slowly shook his head. “Warlord Zsinj is becoming more of a problem. If we do not strike back at him and hit him hard, he will be emboldened and hit us again.”

“Agreed, but where do we hit him? He’s as elusive as the Katana fleet. The galaxy is a big place and even with back-plotting and reports coming in, pinpointing his location is all but impossible. To find him would demand a full fleet operation, and that would mean we delay the Coruscant operation indefinitely.”

“But if we were to do that and try to hunt Zsinj down, we would suddenly open ourselves to more reprisals by him and might give Ysanne Isard the opening she needs to strike at us.” Fey’lya smoothed the fur around the mouth with his left hand. “Fighting on two fronts is folly.”

“Truly spoken.” Ackbar cocked his head slightly. “You would not be here if you did not have an idea to offer, for this discussion merely verbalizes facts plainly in evidence to anyone who has read the reports.”

A hurt expression stole upon Fey’lya’s face, but the intelligence in his eyes robbed it of its intended effect. “To escape a rancor, one is wise to ignore the bite of a flea.”

“Meaning?”

“We cannot shift our focus from the Empire. What I propose is a bold strike at Coruscant.”

“We’re not ready.”

“We must be.” Fey’lya opened his hands. “We are already staging for it and nothing in reports from Coruscant give any indication that Isard is increasing her defenses. She must know we are not ready so she thinks she has time to prepare. If we go now, soon, she will be taken unawares.”

“You grossly underestimate Iceheart if you think she is ever unprepared.”

Fey’lya’s head came up and his jaw opened in a predatory grin. “You are not protesting the plan as utter madness. Your thoughts parallel mine, don’t they?”

Ackbar sat forward again, his barbels quivering. “We are at a critical junction. Iceheart’s preparations for the invasion she has to know is coming have been insufficient. Reports from Coruscant are favorable. Because of recent developments it appears it is possible to unite disparate parts of the Coruscant population to give us a partisan force on the planet. They are poorly equipped, but can be disruptive and distracting.”

“Can they disrupt and distract enough to bring the shields down?”

“I do not know.” Ackbar shook his head. “I have sent a message to Commander Antilles directing him to formulate and prepare to implement a plan to do just that, with the resources he has on hand. Once I receive a reply that indicates he has such a plan prepared, I will give him a target time for when it has to go into effect. When the shields go down, we will arrive at Coruscant.”

The Bothan’s eyes narrowed. “You allow for no slippage in his plan. What if he cannot bring it off in time?”

Ackbar’s jaw opened in a smile. “I have had a report which makes this plan viable in the event that Commander Antilles and his people fail to bring the shields down. You may recall that in recent months the Interdictor cruiser Black Asp ran afoul of Rogue Squadron? Their Captain, a woman named Uwlla Iillor, filed a protest over the transfer of her flight operations officer from her command. The protest was ignored and, apparently, was enough to prompt her and her staff to decide to defect. This gives us an Interdictor cruiser, something we have not had before.

“Depending upon the course we choose, the journey from Borleias to Coruscant will take approximately twenty standard hours. My intention is to send the Black Asp in early and have it jump to the outer edges of the Coruscant system. If the shields are not down, the Interdictor will power up the gravity well projectors and drag our invasion fleet from hyperspace prematurely. If the shields are down, Iillor will do nothing and allow us to revert from hyperspace right on top of Coruscant.”

Fey’lya slowly nodded. “Elegantly simple but decidedly effective. You clearly trust this Captain Iillor. You do not think her coming over is one of Ysanne Isard’s deceptions?”

“No. Captain Iillor cites interference by Imperial Intelligence with her command as the primary reason for her defection. General Cracken has cleared her and has his people working on her staff. Within a week the Black Asp will be operational with an Alliance crew.”

The Bothan nodded. “The ship will be renamed?”

“The crew has chosen a hopeful name: Corusca Rainbow.”

“An omen, to be sure.”

“That is my hope.” Ackbar gave Fey’lya a wall-eyed look. “You will propose this plan to Mon Mothma?”

“In both our names, yes.” Fey’lya smiled. “With her support and the two of us backing it, the Provisional Council cannot fail to make it operational.”

“Good.” The Mon Calamari nodded. “Then I just have to see that the operation does not fail.”