Part 4 (1/2)

From his vantage point at the periphery of the battle he could see a number of things that impressed him. The Rogues had hit the eyeb.a.l.l.s very hard, but Zsinj's people regrouped in good order instead of scattering.

Without s.h.i.+elds, the TIE starfighters were really no match for the X-wings, but remaining together made them far more dan-gerous than individual s.h.i.+ps fleeing. Whoever the leader of that squadron was, he was sharp enough to keep his people together and head them out and away from the fray.

”Rogue flights Two and Three, leave the flight of eye-b.a.l.l.s alone and join the Y-wings. One flight, we're watching the eyeb.a.l.l.s.” Wedge hit two b.u.t.tons on his flight console.

”Mynock, see if you can get me a frequency for the comm unit communications between the eyeb.a.l.l.s.” The droid hooted his understanding of the order. While Wedge waited for the droid to get him that information, he watched the B-wings finish off the squints and head in toward the station. Wedge's monitor showed seven Interceptors hanging dead in s.p.a.ce. That number was im-pressive, even in spite of the ambush, because blowing s.h.i.+ps up was far easier than taking their electrical systems down. While he appreciated the fact that the pilots had not been killed when their s.h.i.+ps had been stopped, he knew the choice to use ion cannons on them had been made for practical rather than altruistic reasons.

Each of those pilots will be debriefed, and what they know will be added to our store of inl%rmation concerning Zsinj. It is entirely possible some or all of them served on the Iron Fist, and learning about the s.h.i.+p's condition is of vital importance. It represents the core of Zsinj's might, and will let us determine how truly dangerous he is.

]'he Rebel fighters all converged on the Empress-cla.s.s s.p.a.ce station with the Y-wings in the lead. While ungainly, the Y-wings were still not easy targets to hit. The station's weaponry sent energy beams shooting out at the attackers, but the incoming fighters supplied three targets for each weapon system, overwhelming the crews defending the sta-tion. Added to that was the ability of fighters to approach while using part of the station to s.h.i.+eld them from many of the lasers. Using targeting data supplied by other s.h.i.+ps, the fighters were able to pop from cover and fire at targets that had previously been unseen.

The swooping, diving, rolling, and climbing cloud of fighters boiled around the station like insects around a bright light. Direct hits on a fighter would make the craft break off and loop away until its s.h.i.+elds were recharged, then head back in. The battle to defend the station was lost from the very start, but the fear Zsinj inspired in his people clearly kept them fighting long after it made sense for them to do so.

Mynock beeped, and Wedge saw a corem unit frequency come up on his monitor. He punched the number into his comm unit and keyed his microphone. ”Starfighter flight, this is Commander Antilles of the New Republic Armed Forces. If you power down your weapons, we'll consider you noncombatants. The same offer goes for the people on the station.”

”I copy, Antilles.” The voice coming back to Wedge through the comm unit had the metallic echo commonly in-jected in speech by Imperial equipment.

”My flight is disarm-ing itself. I'll pa.s.s your message on to the station chief, Valsil Torr.”

”Obliged, starfighter.” Wedge checked his sensors for hostiles as he waited for a return message.

”Antilles, Torr has the message and is powering down his weapons. The station is yours. Be careful, though, he's a wily old Twi'lek.”

Wedge smiled. Though the communications gear had robbed the voice of any humanity, it couldn't kill the person-ality in it. He might have been amazed that someone who had just been shooting at him and his people would so quickly offer helpful advice, but he'd long since learned that warriors from all sides of any conflict had more in common than not. ”I copy the advice. I appreciate it.”

”One thing, Antilles.”

”Yes?”

”If we surrender to you, will you haul us out of here?”

”Don't want to be around when the Iron Fist gets here?”

”Not especially.”

No surprise, that. Unlike the starfighters the Rebellion used, the TIE fighters were not equipped with hyperdrives. TIEs traveled between battles in the bellies of s.h.i.+ps like the Iron Fist. The flight of starfighters was trapped unless Wedge arranged transport for them out of the system. Zsinj had a reputation for being short-tempered, so leaving them behind was tantamount to murdering them, and Wedge had no de-sire to have their murders on his conscience.

”Starfighter, surrendering to me means you'll lose your s.h.i.+p.”

”That's a problem, Antilles. We're all mercenaries. We lose our s.h.i.+ps and we starve.” The TIE pilot fell silent for a moment, then continued. ”Of course, no reason to eat and live if you can't fly.”

”I understand, starfighter.” Wedge thought for a mo-ment. ”I have an idea. If you hire on as guards to fly cover for one of the freighters coming in, you can get out of here and be free.”

”Freighters?”

”Coming for the bacta.”

”Bacta. So that's what we were guarding.”

”And you can continue guarding it all the way to Corus-cant, where it's needed. Give me your word you won't fight against the New Republic in the future, and you've got a deal.”

”You have it, Antilles.”

Right on cue, a dozen and 'a half bulk freighters and specialty haulers started coming out of hypers.p.a.ce and cruis-ing in toward the s.p.a.ce station. Most were blocky, squared-off craft that had seen better days, but a few were more elegant s.h.i.+ps whose very designs were tributes to the roman-ticism of s.p.a.ce travel. One, a converted Baudo-cla.s.s yacht, glided through the void like a metal simulacrum of the Corel-lian sea creature that gave the s.h.i.+p her name.

”Starfighter, the Baudo-cla.s.s yacht there is the Pulsar Skate. I'll have the captain contact you on this frequency. Stand by.”

”I copy.”

Wedge opened a channel to the Skate. ”Skate, this is Rogue Leader.”

”Mirax here, Wedge. We're fourth in line to head in. What can I do for you?”

”We have a flight of four eyeb.a.l.l.s...o...b..ting. They've left Zsinj's service and need a ride out of here. Will you?”

”Sure. Not the first time I've hauled a s.h.i.+p for you.” No, the first one was Corran. ”Thanks, Mirax. Mynock is sending you their corem unit frequency, so I'll leave the arrangements to you.”

”It will give me something to do while I'm waiting.”

”I copy.” Wedge glanced at the chronographic display in the corner of his monitor. ”When we get back home, you and I will sit down and talk, yes?”

Weariness washed through Mirax's voice. ”I'11 have to offload the cargo first. Then maybe I can sleep. Haven't been doing much of that lately. I will call you when I'm functional again.”

”Promise.”

”I promise.”

”And keep that promise, or I talk your father into com-ing out of retirement by telling him you're moping over the death of his worst enemy's son.”

”Oh, Wedge, that's cruel.” Light static hissed in Wedge's ears as Mirax's voice broke. ”There's no reason I shouldn't mourn for Corran.”

”Agreed, but you don't have to do it alone. That's a burden we all share, got it?”

”I copy.” Resignation tinged with relief fooded her words. ”See you back on Coruscant.”

”I am counting on it.” Wedge looked out at the station and his squadron patrolling around it. And, miracle of mira-cles, it looks like everyone is going to make it back home again.

8.

Corran knew that once again being in the c.o.c.kpit of a fighter should have made him happy, but it did not. He could find no fault with the fighter nor with being given a patrol mis-sion. He'd done enough of those to expect boredom, and yet even that wasn't giving him a problem. Just to be flying again was enough to override boredom.

The fact was, he realized, that he was unhappy. Some-thing was gnawing away at him inside. Something was wrong, and there was no way he could ignore it. It created an anxiety in him that was out of all proportion with what he was doing. It felt as if he weren't involved in a patrol at all, but in some other mission with a hidden agenda he knew nothing about.

”Nemesis One, report.”