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    Star Wars - X-Wing - Rogue Squadron

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      surprised Corran because he thought, with Mos Eisley being on Tatooine, Gavin

      would have had his fill of aliens. Then again, I doubt the kid spent much time

      there. He's as green as the foam on Lomiin-ale .

      Over on the right Bror Jace and Nawara appeared to be deep in conversation.

      Shiel slipped past Corran and handed Gavin a mug full of a steaming liquid that

      smelled sweet. Lujayne, seeing Corran, smiled at him and rapped the heel of her

      mug on the table around which they stood.

      "Corran's here."

      The Bothan's reaction to his arrival appeared to be relatively apathetic, but

      everyone else seemed to be pleased to see him. The Twi'lek pointed toward Corran

      with the tip of a head tail and Bror Jace managed a tight smile. Stepping

      forward, the Thyferran pilot offered Corran his hand. "I want you to know I

      would not have flown with your data had I known. I'll be the first to sign the

      letter of protest to General Salm."

      "Letter of protest?"

      Nawara looked a bit exasperated. "Some members of the squadron feel that a

      protest of Commander Antilles's treatment of you is in order."

      Corran looked Nawara in the eyes. "You don't think so?"

      The Twi'lek slowly shook his head. "I don't think it will be effective and I

      believe, quite honestly, that this incident is really fairly minor."

      Corran smiled. "I'm glad to see someone hasn't lost a sense of perspective

      here."

      Bror's blue eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?"

      "I mean, my friends, we're part of a military unit involved in an illegal

      insurgency against a government that controls the vast majority of planets in

      this galaxy. We're all volunteers here, and we've all come because we expect to

      win freedom and liberty for all sapient species by overthrowing the government.

      We're all willing to make the ultimate sacrifice if it comes to that, yet we're

      going to protest how one of the most decorated and revered leaders conducts

      training exercises? I don't think so."

      Gavin gave Corran a wide-eyed look of confusion. "But what he did to you wasn't

      right. It was nasty and cold and meant to hurt you."

      "I'll agree it was nasty and cold, but it wasn't

      meant to hurt me." He looked around at the rest of the squadron. "Commander

      Antilles had a point to make with me, and he made it. And he made one with you.

      Your being here like this, your discomfort with what happened, and your desire

      to protest my treatment means I know you're going to be there when I need you to

      be. And you know I'm willing to do what I need to do to make sure our squadron

      can do its job. If that means I go in alone or with Ooryl or whatever to get

      information, I do it.

      "The thing we all have to remember is this There's nothing Commander Antilles

      can do to us that will be worse than what the Empire has already done on

      hundreds of worlds. They destroyed Alderaan. They destroyed the Jedi and they'll

      destroy us if they can. Because of what he did today, Commander Antilles knows

      he can count on me, and I hope the rest of you do, too."

      Erisi raised Corran's left hand above his head. "I think Corran's correct. He

      might not have been the best pilot on the course today, but he's probably the

      one who learned the most."

      Lujayne stood and gave Corran a firm hug. "As the second worst pilot today, I

      say thanksboth for your skill and your wisdom here."

      Corran blushed slightly, freed his left hand from Erisi's grip, and extricated

      himself from Lujayne's hug. "Thanks to all of you, but just so you don't think

      I'm this cool-headed all the time, I have to admit that I had a discussion with

      Commander Antilles in which he pointed out most of these insights."

      The wolfman growled in a low voice. "Yelling? Punches?"

      "No. Just some clear and concise conversation."

      Shiel bared his teeth and Gavin laughed. Lujayne fished into her flight suit's

      thigh pocket and

      produced a handful of oddly shaped credit coins. She held them out to the

      Twi'lek who cupped them in both hands and smiled avariciously. He flicked at a

      couple with taloned fingers, then looked up and froze as if caught

      bloody-handed.

      Corran knit his fingers together and let them rest against his belt buckle. "And

      those credits are for?"

      "Winning the pool." Nawara carefully slipped them into his pocket. "I said you'd

      be reasonable."

      Rhysati elbowed him. "You took reasonable because you got the best odds with

      that wager."

      The Twi'lek looked offended. "I hold opinions, I don't bet them."

      Corran laughed. "Who had 'will challenge Commander Antilles to an X-wing death

      duel'?"

      Erisi raised her hand. "It was an even-odds bet, too."

      "Nawara won by betting what was in my brain, but you bet what was in my heart."

      Corran pointed to the bar. "In honor of your insightfulness, I will buy you that

      which your heart desires."

      She took his left hand again. "And if it doesn't have a price?"

      "Then I'll buy you a drink and we'll talk about how else to make you happy."

      Bror Jace bowed from the waist in Erisi's direction. "To make her happy you

      would have to make her family's corporation yet more profitable."

      "And to do that means I'd have to be boosting the use of bacta, right?" Corran

      opened his hands and took in the whole of the squadron. "And since the Empire

      buys bacta and we'll be shooting at their pilots, I don't think that'll be hard

      to do at all."

      10

      The shuttle's pilot looked back over his left shoulder. "Agent Loor, you'll

      probably want to strap yourself in. We're coming out of hyperspace."

      Kirtan began to fumble with the restraining harness, then brought his head up

      quickly, embarrassed that his lack of coordination betrayed his nervousness.

      "Thank you, Lieutenant, but I've traveled this way before."

      "Yes, sir," came the pilot's oily reply, "but I'd bet this is your first time to

      Imperial Center."

      Kirtan wanted to snap some sharp reply that would sting the man, but a sense of

      utter and complete disaster washed over him. He had waited for two full weeks

      before reporting Gil Bastra's death to his superiors. In that time he furiously

      analyzed and tried to expand upon any leads Bastra had offered during his

      interrogation. They all seemed to be dead ends, leading nowhere, but he knew, he

      just knew, they would put him on Corran Horn if he had enough time to figure out

      their greater significance.

      In his report he had tried to stress the positive, but within hours of the

      report being sent on up the

      line, he had received his summons to Imperial Center, formerly known as

      Coruscant. He was ordered to make his way to the Imperial capital as quickly as

      possible. As luck would have itluck he in no way saw as benignpassage had been

      arranged on a series of ships with a minimum of difficulty. This last ship, a

      shuttle on loan from the Aggressor, effortlessly carried him to his doom.

      The wall of light visible through the viewport dissolved into a million million

      points of light as the ship left hyperspace. Imperial Center, a clouded grey

      world ringed by Golan defense platforms, seemed even more forbidding than he had


      imagined. He had expected to see that the world that had become a city would be

      as dead and cold as the Emperor who had ruled from it. Instead, with boiling

      clouds burned white by flashes of lightning, the planet's true nature lay

      cloaked and hidden, as did his future.

      "Imperial Center, this is shuttle Objurium requesting clearance for entry on

      the Palace Vector."

      "Transmit clearance code, shuttle Objurium."

      "Transmitting now." The pilot turned back toward Kirtan. "This code better be

      good. We're well within the range of the two nearest Golan stations."

      "It is good." Kirtan blanched. "I mean, it is the code I was given with my

      orders." He started to go on to explain further, but saw the pilot and copilot

      exchange a quick wink and realized he was being teased.

      "Don't worry, Agent Loor, the days of the Empire blasting one if its own

      shuttles apart to kill an Intelligence agent are long past. Can't spare the

      ships right now, which is what makes me a bit more secure."

      Kirtan forced an edge into his voice. "And how

      do you know, Lieutenant, that I am not here solely to monitor and report on your

      attitudes?"

      "You're not the first man I've ferried to his death, Agent Loor."

      "Shuttle Objurium," the comm squawked, "clearance granted. Align course for

      beacon 784432."

      "Understood, Control, Objurium out." The pilot punched the beacon number into

      navigation computer, then gave his copilot a more somber glance.

      "What?" Kirtan tried to stop himself from blurting the question out, and began

      to brace for some stinging jibe from the pilot, but he got none.

      "We're heading to Tower 78, level 443, bay 2."

      "And?"

      Kirtan saw the pilot's Adam's apple bob up and down. "Sir, the only other time

      I've been given that vector is when I had the pleasure of shuttling Lord Vader

      to the Emperor. It was after the disaster at Yavin."

      Kirtan felt a chill slowly pour into him and move up his spine bone by bone. Did

      Lord Vader fear retribution for his actions as I do? Perhaps the Emperor had

      meant to kill him, but Vader redeemed his life by bringing news of the existence

      of another Jedi to his master. Kirtan's fist hammered his right thigh. If I had

      just a little more time I could have delivered my quarry.

      Ahead of the shuttle Kirtan saw lightning flare from the clouds upward toward

      space. It hit and spread out, faintly illuminating a hexagonal area hanging

      above the clouds. "What is that?"

      "Defense shield." The pilot punched a couple of buttons on his command console.

      A miniature model of the world materialized between pilot and passenger, then

      two spheres made up of hexagonal

      elements engulfed the world. The spheres moved in opposite directions around the

      world, constantly shifting, with the hexes in the upper layer covering more area

      than those below. "Imperial Center, for obvious reasons, has the most

      sophisticated system of defense shields in the Empire. A small portion of it

      will come down to let us in, then that section will be reinforced behind us,

      while another one wi ll open below."

      "Nothing can get in without clearance."

      The pilot nodded. "Or out. More than one Rebel agent has been caught trying to

      race back out while ships are coming in. It's a gamble, but not one that pays

      off very often."

      The copilot pushed a glowing button on the console. "We're through the first

      shield."

      "Our next opening comes two degrees north, four east."

      "Course set, sir."

      "Not much longer until we're down, Agent Loor. Only thing that could go wrong

      now is a cloud discharging and trying to hit the upper shield through our

      opening."

      "Does that happen?"

      "Sometimes."

      "Often?"

      The pilot shrugged. "The power for the upper shield comes through openings in

      the lower shield. This tends to ionize a lot of atoms, making lightning travel

      that much faster along those routes. However, doesn't look like our hole served

      as an energy conduit very recently, so we should be safe."

      Turbulence hit the shuttle as it pierced the layer of clouds. Kirtan tightened

      some of the belts restraining him, then clutched the back of the copilot's

      chair with white knuckles. He wanted to blame his growing feeling of nausea on

      the way the shuttle

      bounced down through the atmosphere, but he knew that was not its only cause.

      The world beneath these clouds is the last thing I will see before I die.

      The shuttle broke through the vapor shell around the planet and the pilot smiled

      at him. "Welcome to Imperial Center, Agent Loor."

      Despite his fear, Kirtan Loor looked out at the dark world below and felt

      overwhelmed by the panorama. Instantly recognizable, the Imperial Palace stood

      tall, like a volcano that had thrust itself up through the heart of the

      metropolis that dominated a whole continent of Coruscant. Towers festooned it,

      as if spires on a crown, and thousands of lights sparkled like jewels set in an

      incandescent mosaic on its stone hide. Beneath it, dwarfed into insignificance,

      lay Senate Hill. Its tiny buildingsraised as monuments to the justice and glory

      of the Old Republicseemed frozen with fright that the Palace would grow out and

      consume them.

      Spreading out from that central point, brilliant neon lights in all manner of

      colors pulsed as if nerves carrying information to and from the palace itself.

      Kirtan followed one river of light as it shifted from red and green to gold and

      blue, from the heart of the world out to the horizon. As the ship swooped lower,

      he saw depths to the lightstreams, where buildings had accreted, sinking the

      streets into twisted, broken canyons. He knew the light could not reach all the

      way down, and his imagination had no difficulty in populating those black

      gashes with nightmare creatures and lethal danger.

      But the lethal danger I face dwells above all this. Kirtan sat back as the

      shuttle banked and the nose came up a bit. The pilot leveled the Objurium off

      while the copilot flicked a switch above his head. A red square appeared on the

      shuttle's viewport and surrounded the top of one of the palace's towers.

      Lights blinked around an opening far too small to admit the shuttle, even with

      its wings folded up.

      "We can't be going there. Where will we land?"

      "It looks small, Agent Loor, because we're still three kilometers away from it."

      Kirtan's mouth hung open as his brain fought to put everything he was seeing in

      perspective. The streets below, which he had taken to be narrow tracks, had to

      be the size of major boulevards. And the towers, they were not slender,

      needlelike minarets, but massive buildings designed to house hundreds or

      thousands of people on each level. And the structures on the surface, they

      armored the planet with layer after layer of ferrocrete.

      Kirtan shuddered as he realized how deep the warrens had to run on the planet,

      yet he doubted anyone had set foot on the soil beneath Imperial City for

      centuries.

      It all struck him as impossible that a world could house that many people, but

      this was Coruscant. It was the heart of an Empire that boasted milli
    ons of

      known worlds. If each one required only a thousand people to deal with it and

      its problems, Coruscant would have to be home to billions of people. And to see

      to their needs, billions more would have to be in residence, working, building,

      cleaning.

      Suddenly he went from wondering how Coruscant could house so many people to

      wondering if even billions of individuals were enough to oversee the Empire. Or

      what's left of it.

      The Objurium swept in closer to the tower. The opening appeared to be a black

      hole waiting to suck him down and rend him atom from atom. Though logic argued

      against expending the money it cost to bring him to Coruscant just to kill him,

      he knew that Death hovered close and would be seeking

      out. He had failed and the price the Empire demanded for failure was dear

      indeed.

      Kirtan ran a finger around his collar to loosen it. Arguing against his death,

      aside from the wasted expense of his travel, was a thought that proved utterly

      ludicrous to him. The only way he would stay alive was if he had something the

      person who had summoned him here found valuable. But he was just one person. The

      only thing he imagined he possessed that was not duplicated by ten or a hundred

      or a thousand other people on Coruscant was his life. / have nothing else that

      is unique.

      The opening loomed close enough for Kirtan to see figures moving around in its

      shadows. The pilot punched a button on the command console. The shuttle's wings

      rose and locked up while the landing gear descended. The shuttle drifted

      forward, easing into the hangar, then slowly settled to the deck. It landed with

      only a slight bump, but Kirtan's nerves magnified it until it felt as heavy as

      the blow of a vibroblade on his neck.

      Steeling himself for the worst, Kirtan slapped the buckle against his breastbone

      and slid free of the restraining harness. "Thank you, Lieutenant, for your

      efforts on my behalf."

      The pilot watched him for a moment, then nodded. "Good luck, sir."

      Kirtan pulled on a pair of black leather gloves and flexed his right hand.

      "Smooth flight back to the Aggressor."

      The Intelligence agent stood slowly, letting his legs get used to the planet's

      gravity, then walked back from the cockpit and down the egress ramp. At the base

      of the ramp four Imperial Guards, resplendent in their scarlet uniforms, stood

      at attention. When he stepped into their midst, they turned as

     


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