24

Deep within the garrison, Face and Kell stood guard on either side of the hatch leading to Wedge's cell. After Tchlinda and Turpa's surprise visit earlier that morning, they had decided to keep an extra close watch for any Imperials who may drop in on them. They had settled on an audio signal to alert Heblon should anyone approach.

Inside the cell, Heblon leaned over Wedge, shaking him lightly to try to wake him. Each time it got harder to revive the man. It had taken both Face and Heblon to get a limp Wedge into his orange flightsuit.

He stopped and stood straight. He could have sworn that he heard music off in the distance. He moved out the door to where Kell and Face stood, fastening his uniform jacket. "Did you hear that?"

"Are you kidding? I can't hear a thing in this helmet," Kell replied.

"I thought I heard..." Heblon strained to hear the elusive strains of music. "It's an Imperial March. The ceremony must have started."

"You had better get in there and get that injection ready. We'll give you as much warning as we can when they come for him." Face's helmet turned from side to side as he scanned the hallway.

Heblon headed back into the cell. He pulled the small vial from the pouch at his waist and searched through the medical materials scattered throughout the cell for a syringe. He prepared the dose and lay it beside the bunk.

A few moments later, a low beep emanated from his comlink. It was the signal that someone was nearing the cell. He took Wedge's arm and searched quickly for a vein. Finding one, he jabbed the needle into it, shooting the contents of the syringe into his system.

It took only a few seconds to take affect. Wedge's eyes shot open and he sat up suddenly. Heblon held him back. "They're coming for you. They expect you to be incapacitated. You know what to do."

He nodded and lay back down, closing his eyes. He did a very convincing job of looking like he was at death's door.

Of course, he's looked that way for days.

Heblon headed out into the hallway and met the six stormtroopers waiting for him.

Moff Tchlinda stood on the balcony overlooking the plaza. She smiled out over the crowd of people assembled. She was immensely pleased at what she saw. It was truly a gathering worthy of the event, with nearly every inhabitant of Jimmarra was present. That they'd not been given the choice of refusing the invitation was of little concern to her. This was the moment she'd waited for, and she wanted a large audience to witness her triumph over Wedge Antilles.

She approached the edge of the platform, where a portable communications system had been set up. "People of Arramsetti," her voice echoed through the plaza. "Today marks the achievement of an important and long anticipated goal. Today is the day when a murderer is brought to justice. Not only is this pilot guilty of the murders of my sons, but also of the murders of members of some of your own families. When the Rebel Alliance launched its cowardly attack on our Glorious Emperor at Endor, it brought grief to many of our homes."

"Now this man, General Wedge Antilles, will be made to pay for his crimes." She gave a signal, and two stormtroopers appeared from the garrison, supporting Wedge's semi-conscious figure between them. They were escorted by six stormtroopers, three on each side. The troopers hauled him toward the monument, his feet dragging on the ferrocrete. Just behind the stormtrooper escort was Lieutenant Heblon, following them at a quick march.

Tchlinda could feel the eyes of her sons on her as the man who had been the cause of their death approached his own. A thrill ran through her body as the event she had dreamt about, had planned for so long, was about to take place.

The stormtroopers carried the prisoner past her balcony, and she had a close look at him. He had been dressed in his bloodied flightsuit as she had directed, minus his life support equipment, to add 'realism' to the scene. More blood was beginning to soak through the material at the back of his flightsuit from the wounds she had inflicted on him the day before. But those wounds would soon be the least of his problems.

Tycho watched as the countdown on his screen slowly clicked down towards zero. His group was making an in-system micro-jump to Arramsetti III in hopes of catching the Imperials off guard. The Venture and her two escorts had jumped five minutes ahead of them, expecting to draw the fire of the Querulous before they arrived.

His silver and green astromech beeped a short signal, and a second later his X-wing dropped out of hyperspace just outside the atmosphere of Arramsetti III. Looking to port, then starboard, he watched the twelve other fighters of Rogue Squadron, and the mixed dozen from the Errant Venture, as they popped into the system. They were closely followed by the Stardust and Pulsar Skate. The four shuttles containing the infantry troops would be staging from the Venture's hangar once the ground action began.

Only when he had accounted for all of his ships did Tycho become aware of the distant form of a second Star Destroyer in orbit.

"All ships present and accounted for, Rogue Leader," Corran's voice crackled over the comm channel. "But I think we're in trouble."

Tycho couldn't agree more. With the appearance of another Victory Class Star Destroyer and her TIEs, they were sorely outgunned. "All fighters, lock S-foils in attack position." He glanced at the text scrolling across his screen as his R-2 estimated the number of fighters they were facing. His stomach folded in on itself. "They've got six full squadrons of eyeballs and squints out there. We need to get in and get rid of them as soon as possible."

"That's only five and a fraction each, Lead." Bror Jace's voice carried its usual self-confidence. "If anyone can't handle theirs, let me know."

"Hey, Plus," Gavin Darklighter quipped. "Did you ever get the patent on those ego powered shields? I think we're going to need them."

"Trim it, Rogues." Tycho knew that the chatter was pre-battle tension, but it was past time for that now. "Remember our mission. We take out as many fighters as we can, then support the ground troops. Take out any Scout Walkers or gun emplacements that fire on them and cover for the Skate. Everybody got that?"

There was a chorus of confirmations. "All right, Rogues, there's a man down there who needs us. Let's get the party started."