Star Wars Infinities: The Warrior

By Christopher W. Blaine (darth_yoshi@yahoo.com)

DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations contained in this story are ©2003 by George Lucas and are used herein without permission for fan-related, non-profit entertainment purposes only. This original work of fiction is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in part or as a whole without the express permission of the author.

CHAPTER 22

The Imperial-Class star destroyer Avenger came out of hyperspace and immediately fired up the sub-light engines. The journey to the next jump point would take approximately one hour, but it would shave days off of the trip to the Corellian system by using an old smuggler's route.

Captain Piett nodded to the navigation officer after receiving a report that everything was going according to schedule and returned to gazing out the main viewport. He was one of the few officers that Deceptra trusted as he had served under Lord Vader when he was younger and had remained a loyal ally during the years. Having her watch over his career had provided him with many career-enhancing assignments, including this one, commanding the flagship of the Death Squadron, Deceptra's personal fleet.

He had hoped that the Executor would have been given over, but Deceptra had declined it, instead opting for a fleet made up of smaller, more diversified ships. It did give the Death Squadron the ability to perform a variety of missions, but that didn't mean the captain was happy about losing out on commanding a Super-Class capital ship.

The rest of the fleet would be coming out of hyperspace at different intervals, following the same path. The sensor officer called out that the Devastator and Dark Shadow, another star destroyer and a new interdictor cruiser respectively, had just finished their jump and were now following along their course. The entire Squadron would meet at the edge of the Corellian system and would see what the true situation was.

Intercepted comms traffic indicated that both the Emperor and Tarkin's speeches had deeply divided the Empire. Many worlds clung to the idea that only the Emperor, seemingly immortal, could maintain the New Order. Other, younger commanders believed that it was time for a change. These officers agreed with Tarkin's heavy-handed tactics and welcomed the opportunity to stage a coup.

Piett was an officer of the old school who understood that it was cheaper to wave a heavy blaster than it was to actually fire it. The Death Star battle station was a triumph in military engineering, but it was simply impractical as a weapons platform. Destroying one world served as a unique example if employed directly, but Tarkin had wasted it on Chandrilla. Other worlds that sported the super-rich and elite would have rallied more people to the government's cause; Chandrilla served only infuriate the oppressed.

The Death Star was also vulnerable to sabotage in Piett's opinion. It was simply too easy for Rebel agents to sneak aboard, possibly a suicide-bomber, and get into the reactor core. From the outside, he knew, it was protected quite well, especially since Admiral Thrawn had gone over the design and found several fatal errors. This confrontation was going to be interesting because Piett would finally see how the Death Star would stand up to a coordinated attack.

In theory, it was possible to overload the defensive shields with enough firepower. Only an Imperial star fleet could muster such destructive force. That theory was going to be put to the test very soon. If they succeeded, then Piett's star would continue to rise; if they failed, he would be no worse off than he was right now.

The idea was too weaken the shields enough to allow the platoon of Crimson Guardsmen to get onboard and seize control of the station. Then Deceptra would assume command and execute Tarkin and the senior officers immediately. The Death Star would then be removed from Corellia and the Death Squadron would be assigned to suppress the uprisings.

It seemed all too simple and Piett was awaiting the one thing that would complicate the entire affair.

"Captain, I'm receiving a diplomatic message for Lady Deceptra," the communications officer called out.

Piett thought it most likely another would-be suitor. One family or another was constantly courting his mistress, but he knew she only had eyes for Soontir Fel. "Reroute it with the other traffic; I'm sure she'll look at it eventually."

"Sir," the officer began, his voice cracking slightly with nervousness. "It is coming from Alderaan."

"This channel is secure, sir," the dark-haired man said as he accepted a steaming cup of caf from someone off screen.

Garm Bel Iblis nodded and sipped from his own cup. "I'm glad to see that you got the equipment I sent. I'm even happier that someone knows how to use it."

Wedge Antilles nodded. "We've had a number of Imperial techs come over to our side recently and they put it all together."

"How goes the fighting?" Bel Iblis asked.

Wedge sighed. "We've given Tarkin a headache, but his recent speech has occupied most of his time. His fleet is able to knock out just about anything we throw his way, though we have been able to get some supplies in through the underworld." Bel Iblis nodded. Black Sun was providing the much-needed smuggling to Corellia and scoring record profits by doing so. The former senator had to wonder if the money that was being spent wasn't going to end up putting Xizor on the throne of the Empire one day.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about; I think it's time for you to leave."

Wedge's eyes went wide. "What? You want us to just up and leave? What about the people?"

"Antilles, you're a fool if you think anything that you and your people are doing on Corellia are stopping Tarkin from blowing the planet away. All that is going to happen is he is going to waste time right there killing you off and you'll serve no other purpose." Bel Iblis pressed some buttons and transmitted a packet of data through the transmission. "This is heavily encrypted so you'll have to get your best slicer on it; it's the coordinates for the Rebel base. The only way we can win is if we are united."

"Sir, with all due respect, I think we can make a real difference here," Wedge told him. The data pack was downloaded onto his data pad and he handed it off to a technician. "We've rallied the people…"

"And pretty soon those star destroyers are going to start a turbolaser barrage and it will be over." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know it feels like you're running away, but do you think I would ever do anything to purposely endanger our home?"

Wedge thought about it for a moment and realized how ridiculous the idea was. "Still, what are a bunch of ground pounders, techs and space jockeys going to be able to offer the Rebellion?"

Bel Iblis laughed despite himself. "Between you and me, not much; not yet anyway. I have a plan in the works to give us the leverage we need to take on the Death Star."

"A spy?"

Bel Iblis shrugged. "Perhaps. It's no secret that there are some influential and high ranking people in the Empire that would like to see a return to the ways of the Republic. A true soldier desires peace and loathes war, remember that Commander."

Wedge noted the use of a military rank. Before joining with the uprising on Corellia, he had been a simple cargo pilot with no background in the army or navy. By giving him an officer's rank, Bel Iblis had formally drafted Wedge into the Rebellion. "In for a credit, in for the sabbac pot I guess," he mumbled.

"I've already arranged it. You have the rank and privileges of commander in the Alliance command structure. Your specialty will be star fighters."

Wedge winced. "I've never flown a star fighter…"

"Which is why I want you getting to the Rebel base and start training up. We're short on pilots and I've talked with a few people, especially many smugglers. Dash Rendar told me you're an honest man with a mean flight path."

Wedge laughed. He knew Rendar from two previous confrontations. Rendar had had tried smuggle cargo into port by pretending to be Wedge. It had led to one fistfight in a tavern that both men had enjoyed immensely in the true Corellian tradition. Though not friends, they had learned to respect each other and stay out of each other's way.

"There is also the issue of your brother-in-law," Bel Iblis said. Wedge said nothing but the Rebel leader noticed the darkness that washed over Wedge's normally jovial features. "Tarkin has issued a death warrant for him and we think he's escaped to the planet's surface."

"He's not my problem."

Shaking his head, Bel Iblis disagreed. "He loved your sister very much and you know it. He is an honorable man who simply has different political views. He may change those views if he sees first hand what is going on with Corellia."

Wedge said nothing but turned away. He had never met his brother-in-law until his sister's funeral. They had barely spoken, both of them filled with grief. Fel had barely stayed on the planet and when he had, he was escorted everywhere by the military governor so that he hadn't seen the terrible conditions that not personified the planet. Maybe he didn't know what was really happening.

It was possible. Everything Wedge had heard about Fel was that he was a decent man, but that he also believed in the New Order. In theory, the Emperor's government did sound good; it was the practice that was the problem.

Wedge had one small issue to discuss concerning his dead sister's husband. "He's sleeping with Deceptra. He's too far gone to be brought over."

Bel Iblis's face saddened. "You don't know the whole story, especially about Deceptra. Many good men have fallen for her through no fault of their own. There is a quality about her that is desirable on a level far beyond the physical. Don't hate him because he wants to love again."

"I can't reconcile myself to the idea…"

"Well, Commander, get used to doing things you don't like then because this is an order. This is a rebellion, not a protest and we need every advantage we can get. I am ordering you to begin the withdrawal of your forces from Corellia. You will use Black Sun to ferry them and your equipment out, paying them with the credit reserves I left on the planet." Wedge knew that Bel Iblis was paying for this out if his own family's fortune. By the time the withdrawal was over with, the former senator would be dirt poor most likely.

Just like most Corellians. "If, during this time, you are contacted by your brother-in-law, you will offer him the opportunity to join up. You may use whatever incentive you feel is appropriate."

Wedge nodded and felt his stomach tighten. "And what if he refuses?"

Bel Iblis's voice took on a chilling tone. "Then you will deny the Empire that asset. Are we clear?"

Wedge slowly nodded and looked over his shoulder to the two former Imperial commandos that were now his personal bodyguards. They also nodded, understanding the implications of the statement. "I'll begin everything as soon as possible."

"Try to do it quicker, Commander," Bel Iblis said before cutting the transmission.