Star Wars - X-Wing 02 - Wedge's Gamble, Page 4

  Borsk Fey'lya's cream-colored fur rippled as he stood. "Councilor Organa, it would seem that this Zsinj, if he is as cunning as you suggest, would be open to negotiations. How have you approached him?"

  A trace of weariness tightened the flesh at Leia's eyes. "We have tried contacts at various levels within his orga­nization. Messages sent via the Imperial HoloNet have gone unanswered, though your people have assured me they have been collected by Zsinj. More light escapes from a black hole than information that comes back out from him and his fleet. I suspect he wants to see how truly strong we are before he begins any negotiations with us."

  The Bothan's violet eyes narrowed. "If there is no in­formation coming out of his organization, how do you know he is seeking data on us?"

  Admiral Ackbar nodded to Leia. "If I might answer that, Councilor."

  The hint of a smile on her lips banished the fatigue from her face. "Please, Admiral."

  Ackbar remained seated and waited until the Bothan sat back down before he spoke. Borsk's fur rippled again, this time quickly, which Wedge took as a mark of irrita­tion. "A little less than a standard week ago a freighter appeared in the Pyria system. It was challenged and re­sponded with the proper passage codes, but a member of Rogue Squadron chose to do a closer check. The freighter launched six TIEs, four starfighters, and two bombers. The freighter fled and all but one of the smaller ships was destroyed. The one that survived was a bomber that had been disabled by two Y-wings. Examination of it and in­terrogation of the pilot indicates the ship was sent by Warlord Zsinj to confirm our conquest of Pyria and, if the opportunity presented itself, to strike at the base."

  Borsk's face hardened. "And your people let the freighter escape?"

  Ackbar's lids drifted down for a moment. "Councilor Fey'lya, the freighter was fully armed and deployed six fighter craft. On post we had two Y-wings and one X-wing. Despite being outnumbered, our forces elimi­nated the six fighters and damaged the freighter, driving it off. The freighter fled before the fighter screen was elim­inated, but even if it had not, engaging it would have been suicidal."

  "I thought such missions were Rogue Squadron's spe­cialty."

  Wedge felt color rising to his face. The last time that was suggested, it was another Bothan who did the sug­gesting.

  Admiral Ackbar opened his hands. "I would point out that to so easily dismiss Rogue Squadron's sacrifices is to denigrate the sacrifices made by all peoples who have died in service to the Rebellion."

  The Bothan councilor sat back and Wedge's admira­tion for Ackbar grew. The Admiral's veiled reference to sacrifices echoed the oft-heard Bothan lament about the number of Bothan agents who had died to secure the in­formation about the second Death Star. Because the Bothans did not possess a strong military—as opposed to

  the Mon Calamari fleet forming the backbone of the New Republic's Armed Forces—they used the sacrifices of their people as their justification for sharing power in the New Republic. If Fey'lya devalued Rogue Squadron's contribu­tion to the Rebellion, he likewise eroded his own basis of power.

  Doman Beruss, a flaxen-haired woman who repre­sented the Corellian exiles on the Council, stood. "I be­lieve we are heading toward the focus for this meeting, but I would prefer to cut directly to it instead of watching my colleagues scratch and claw their way there. Zsinj knows, as do we, that whichever force is able to wrest Coruscant from the grip of the Imperial government will be seen as the legitimate, or at least strongest, claimant to governance. The Pyria system was taken to be a stepping stone to Coruscant, and Zsinj now knows we do have it."

  The Wookiee and Sullustan representatives nodded in agreement with Doman. Mon Mothma looked up. "Ad­miral Ackbar, if you are prepared to give your presenta­tion."

  "I am." Ackbar stood and General Salm, a small, balding, thickly built man, slipped into the chair the Mon Calamari had vacated. Salm linked his datapad into a jack on the edge of the table. Above the mirrored plate centered on the table the holographic image of a world appeared.

  "This is Coruscant. It was the administrative center of the Old Republic and retained that function when the Emperor seized power. Palpatine made an attempt to re­name it Imperial Center, but it is known as such only in Imperial decrees. Coruscant is still seen as the heart of the galaxy and many look to it as the center of order and au­thority, no matter who controls it.

  "After the Emperor's death, a government was formed under the leadership of Sate Pestage. His suzer­ainty lasted six months until a coup by a coterie of other Imperial advisers forced him into exile. It appears that his ouster was organized by Ysanne Isard—she was definitely behind Pestage's hounding and death. She deftly undercut

  the bureaucrats she had used to vanquish Pestage and took control of the Empire for herself. While she main­tains her title of Director of Intelligence, and has sug­gested she is holding the planet in stewardship, there is no doubt that she is in full control."

  As Ackbar spoke, the planet dissolved into an image of Isard. A tall, slender human woman, she still seemed possessed of the vitality that the Rebellion had begun to sap from Mon Mothma. Isard wore her hair long. Except for white sidelocks, her hair was as black as night and served to accentuate her severe beauty.

  Her most striking features became apparent as the image shifted to a close-up of her face. Her eyes were mis­matched. The right one was an icy blue that had contrib­uted as much as her demeanor to her nickname of "Iceheart." By contrast the left eye was a molten red. Wedge felt a shiver run down his spine just looking at her hologram—and he had no desire to make a closer ac­quaintance with her.

  Ackbar continued. "Despite her not being from a military background, she has, in no way, allowed the de­fenses of the Imperial homeworld to slacken. Outermost we have Golan Space Defense stations. They are compa­rable in power to a Star Destroyer. They are not mo­bile, so eliminating them from a section of the sky over Coruscant will give us an area in which to operate, but eventually all of them will have to be neutralized.

  "In addition to these defense stations, there are ap­proximately seven Victory-class Star Destroyers on station at Coruscant. There are ground-based fighter groups as well as the fighter wings stationed in and around the ships, shipyards, and orbital factories. The orbital mirror stations and low-orbit skyhooks may also have been armed."

  Ackbar clasped his hands behind his back. "As formi­dable as all that is, the primary problem in taking Corus­cant is the overlapping defense shields."

  The image of the world had long since returned. As the Mon Calamari had described aspects of the defense,

  representations of them appeared in orbit around the planet. With his mention of the defense shields, two spheres constructed of hexagons appeared to encase the world. One moved in the direction of its orbit, the other moved in the opposite direction. The neon-blue lattice­work shrouded Coruscant and occluded any good view of it.

  "To take Coruscant we must eliminate the shields. There are a number of ways to do this, but none of them is simple. A direct assault would cost us more dearly than both Death Star battles combined. I think the only rea­sonable approach to taking Coruscant is to blockade the world. It is hardly self-sufficient—even the defense sta­tions only carry three standard months' worth of pro­visions. Faced with dwindling supplies, a negotiated surrender would be possible."

  Mon Mothma frowned. "The problem with a block­ade is twofold. The first is that it would keep our fleet at one place for an extended period of time. This would al­low Isard to recall the Imperial fleet to drive us off."

  Ackbar nodded. "Or it could encourage naval officers in far-flung regions to sever their ties with the Empire, breaking it up further."

  "Giving us many warlords like Zsinj to worry about." Borsk's words came so softly they seemed almost purred. "Pinning our fleet in one place would also allow Zsinj to prey upon New Republic worlds."

  Ackbar opened his hands. "Yes, what you suggest might happen."

  Mon Mothma raised a h
and and cut him off. "The second problem with a blockade is that the people of Co­ruscant will suffer. My friend, you visited Coruscant when you were with Grand Moff Tarkin. You know there are vast populations of outcasts who dwell deep in the shadowed canyons of that metroworld. They barely sur­vive as it is. If supplies are cut off to Coruscant, they will suffer the most and we cannot afford to be responsible for their suffering."

  "This I know very well, Chief Councilor Mothma,

  but you face me with an impossible task." Ackbar pointed a hand at the floating hologram of Coruscant. "You want the world taken, but the means that will de­liver it to us with the minimum of bloodshed is one that is unacceptable. It is possible to batter our way in there. I cannot say there will not be a significant amount of col­lateral damage—damage that may harm people as much as any blockade. Yet, even if that sort of damage is more acceptable from a diplomatic and political point of view, it leaves us with a reality that is militarily unacceptable: the world we take will be a world we cannot hold."

  Wedge nodded. To bring the shields down on a planet, standard doctrine dictated that the shields were to be probed for weaknesses, such as places where an atmo­spheric anomaly was causing a disruption. That weak­ened sector would be targeted and a hole would be punched through it. The gap would then be used as a hole through which shield projectors would be destroyed by bombardment or laser fire. While that would bring the shields down and allow for a planetary assault, it would leave the planet defenseless until the shield generators could be repaired or, most likely, replaced.

  "What you ask of me and my troops is not possible." Ackbar shook his head. "Coruscant, if taken in haste, will fall to another just as quickly, and all we have fought for in this Rebellion will be for naught."

  5

  Wedge opened his arms wide and stretched. Standing on the patio of the Noquivzor facility's only aboveground building, he looked out over rolling hills carpeted with golden grasses. The breezes that stirred eddies and cur­rents into them warmed him and began to take the chill out of his clothes. He pulled off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. I need an hour or two of sun and warmth before I head back in there.

  After the morning Council session had adjourned, Wedge and Salm had returned to Admiral Ackbar's quar­ters and discussed the problems with conquering Corus­cant. Because of Noquivzo's arid climate, Ackbar's quarters had been fitted with a humidification system that made the environment more comfortable for the Mon Calamari. For Wedge and General Salm, the humidity thickened the air to the point where it seemed to drag on them and tire them out.

  Wedge smiled as he watched a herd of wilder-nerfs spread out and over a far hill like an inky black stain on the golden carpet. He recalled a promise he had previ­ously made to himself to return to Noquivzor and take some time to relax. He had wanted to remember what he

  was fighting for, and this world had seemed the sort of place where he could find some peace. Now I'm back, but there's no peace to be had.

  "Would that some of this tranquillity would sneak into our deliberations."

  Wedge spun around. "Highness."

  Leia smiled at him. "Wedge, please, not so formal. We've known each other for too long to stand on cere­mony."

  He nodded sheepishly. "I know that, but things have changed. Look at you. I can still see the Leia Organa who waited anxiously for Luke's return from the Death Star at Yavin, but the others, they all see you as Alderaan's rep­resentative to the Provisional Council. I have no intention of seeming familiar or disrespectful."

  "Things may have changed, Wedge, but not us."

  "I don't think I can agree with that idea entirely." Wedge hung his jacket over the back of a metal chair and leaned heavily upon it. "Yavin was over seven years ago. I've gone from being a pilot who thought he was very good to someone who leads a squadron of hotshots and aids an Admiral in planning assaults on the Imperial cap­ital."

  Leia nodded and drew a chair up beside the one upon which Wedge leaned. "Back at Yavin we didn't have any Admirals."

  "We barely had any ships at Yavin. We had General Dodonna, but he's gone." Wedge seated himself beside her. "You've gone from being the youngest person ever to be elected to the Imperial Senate to the fusion reactor for the whole Rebellion. Mon Mothma may lead us, and Ad­miral Ackbar may fight for us, but you're the one who keeps all the disparate parts of the New Republic work­ing together. How you do that, I can't even begin to guess."

  She laughed lightly and Wedge smiled in response to the sound. "Keeping Han and Luke out of trouble has of­ten been far more easy, to be certain. There are times it

  feels as if this Rebellion could be measured in decades, not years."

  "I was thinking centuries, but your point is well taken." Wedge shook his head. "Are all the Council meetings this difficult?"

  "Some are. This one in particular is prickly. Borsk Fey'lya has some issues he wants dealt with and he has taken steps to see to it that he gets his way."

  "I think Admiral Ackbar is holding his own."

  "That's because Fey'lya is playing for a longer game. He has things well thought out, and he is a stickler for details."

  "What do you mean?"

  Leia looked at him with a mixture of surprise and pity in her eyes. "Oh, Wedge, you wouldn't believe how well Fey'lya has orchestrated things to work against Ad­miral Ackbar."

  "Try me."

  "You're on." Leia swept a hand out to take in the nearly treeless landscape. "Fey'lya arranged for this meeting to be held here, on Noquivzor. He is right at home here—these savannahs closely resemble his home range on Bothawui. Mon Mothma, you, me, and the other humans find the climate and setting pleasant enough that we are at ease. Kerrithrarr, the Wookiee Councilor, does not like a world with wide blue skies and a lack of trees. Asking him to live underground is to come within millimeters of violating his personal honor, and you know how touchy Wookiees are about that."

  "Yeah, now that you mention it, Noquivzor and Kashyyyk have very little in common. Admiral Ackbar and the other Mon Calamari don't like the dry air here."

  "Sian Tevv and his Sullustans find it a bit hot here." Leia shrugged. "As a result, most of those who oppose Borsk Fey'lya are ill at ease here. It will be easy for tem­pers to flare and people to decide someone ..."

  "Admiral Ackbar ..."

  "Right, someone is being stubborn. This could influ­ence votes and could go against Ackbar and his plans."

  The Princess sat back and smoothed her gown against her thighs. "Of course, Ackbar knows all this, which is why he advanced the blockade plan. He knew it would not work, so now if he retreats from that position, he shows himself to be reasonable and willing to compromise. This means the other side must compromise, too."

  Wedge frowned because until after the meeting, when Admiral Ackbar had explained these things to him, he'd completely missed the significance of what Leia had just indicated was blatantly obvious. "I think finding enemy ships and shooting them up is easier than this politics stuff."

  "Possibly, but it's a matter of scale. You lead your people against several dozen Imperials at a time. Each of us represents millions and billions of individuals and our goal is the overthrow of billions. We cannot afford to be so direct or free."

  "Once upon a time we could."

  "True, but then we were all self-elected members of an outlaw movement. Now we speak and act for whole worlds." Leia reached over, took Wedge's hand, and gave it a squeeze. "Back in those days I scarcely dared dream we'd have these problems to deal with in the future."

  Wedge patted the top of her hand. "Yeah, in those days it seemed as if our children and grandchildren would still be fighting the Empire."

  "Indeed." She laughed again. "So, Wedge Antilles, any prospects on the horizon for you contributing to the Rebellion's next generation?"

  "Me? I have all the children I need in my squadron." He saw sadness wash across her face. "It's not that bad. I have friends, I just don't have the time to go courting. You fou
nd someone, and you weren't even looking. It seems to happen that way, so I'm not terribly worried. Now what about you and Han?"

  "We're happy, when we get to see each other. It's kind of rough on a woman to finally admit you love someone and then have him frozen in carbonite for the better part

  of a year. Then again, during that time he didn't find little ways to irritate me."

  "That's his nature, though—he's chaos incarnate." Wedge smiled. "Han Solo, you have to love him ..."

  "... or freeze him in carbonite, I know." Leia stared wistfully off into the distance. "He's a good man. Even with his quirks and rough edges, I don't think I can find better in this galaxy. And I'm not really interested in look­ing, either, but there are times when I wonder 'Why him?' "

  "If you ever have doubts, serious doubts, come see me. I can give you a dozen reasons to answer that ques­tion." Not the least of which is that it takes a guy as fast and sharp as Han Solo to keep up with you, Leia. Wedge let go of her hand and stretched again. "What about Luke? How is he doing?"

  "He's doing well. He's continuing his Jedi training. He's also been traveling around the galaxy trying to re­cover any artifacts or documents that will fill in the back­ground of the Jedi Knights. The Emperor's attempt to exterminate the order was very effective. Only the histo­ries written at his order remain and they're long on fab­rication. Luke says they have nothing serious to offer by way of instruction for a Jedi, though a couple of the texts suggest exercises that are designed to lure a potential Jedi over to the dark side."

  "That's nasty, and rather typical of the Emperor."

  "He was evil and, just as bad, quite thorough in his methodology." Leia sighed. "Luke has designed a regimen of exercises and has convinced me to start training. I do them when I can, but a Jedi is supposed to be tranquil and at peace when she acts, and the frustration inherent in my position often keeps me away from the proper frame of mind."