Thanks to yaebginn for his review! I'm taking your suggestions to hear in
this chapter! Please continue to review, everyone!
--Sci-Fi Nerd
Chapter 3
The hangar of the asteroid base was small, spare, and filled with all manner of junked ships and parts that kept the resistance's patched together fleet flying. Narrow durasteel racks overhead kept the X-wings, TIEs, and other starfighters in good condition and out of the way of the bigger craft, while massive levitating refuel and repair blocks floated themselves out of the floor next to the docking slots when larger craft landed in the patched-together complex.
The Stiletto just barely fit into a docking station reserved for medium freighters, and Wedge sighed with relief. They'd made it all the way back to the hidden Black Hole Base without being followed (or so Kenji said; however, Wedge was still keeping an eye on him) and now they could relax.
Or not. Talon Karrde wasn't going to be happy at the unexpected visitor, especially of such an impromptu nature. The tale of blasting squads of stormtroopers to chunks to escape from Mos Eisley spaceport might alleviate some of his fears, but Wedge would lay his money on his alien companion getting a full interrogation.
The instant the Stiletto finished powering down, despite Wedge's transmission of the correct 'all-clear' signals, a group of well-armed and roughly dressed mercenaries surrounded the visible exits of the craft, two of them sporting PLX-2M missile launchers, fully loaded. The chip missiles wouldn't do much against the Stiletto fully powered, but if they got inside the ship, there would be hell to pay.
The ramp lowered with a smooth hiss of hydraulic fluids, and Wedge debarked first, hands held up in a placating gesture as he descended, boots clinking smoothly. The mercenaries stiffened, and then relaxed, smiling, but the weapons didn't lower.
"Son of the Sith!" someone burst out, and Wedge turned to see Kenji striding boldly down the ramp, minus holographic disguises, as if he owned the base. A couple of fingers twitched on blaster rifle triggers, but Talon Karrde's barked order as he entered the bay cut them off.
The smuggler captain's eyebrows were raised in astonishment as he moved towards Wedge, but the set of his shoulders and chin told the starfighter pilot and outlaw that he was in for a verbal beating.
"What in the nine Corellian hells is that thing doing here?" Karrde hissed quietly to Wedge, throwing a patently false smile at his new guest. "More to the point, what is he?"
Wedge searched for words for several seconds, but again, just like back on Mos Eisley, Kenji saved him again.
"I am an ambassador, Captain Karrde," the big alien explained smoothly. "My race wishes to join the fight against Grand Admiral Thrawn."
Karrde turned a skeptical gaze on Kenji's massive form. His narrow black goatee clenched as his jaw stiffened, and his arms crossed standoffishly over his chest. "Indeed?" he snorted in disbelief. "And I suppose you have something that we can just point at Thrawn and eradicate him, I suppose?"
Kenji seemed to smile, a wicked baring of his slicing teeth that made Wedge inch almost invisibly away from the big alien. Smiles like that made Wedge think of a hunting vornskr, and with Kenji's body type, he was sure the comparison wasn't that amiss.
"Nothing so grand," the In'ca Din'ca said. "But the Grand Admiral knows nothing of our race as yet, though we have begun to probe him. I suspect we have a very narrow window of opportunity in which to act."
Karrde surveyed him again, his gaze more thoughtful. Finally, he nodded and turned sharply, beckoning for Wedge and Kenji to follow.
"We'll talk in my office," he said.
Karrde's office was a small space, though larger than many of the other quarters in the tiny asteroid hideout. It was appointed with the smuggler's legendary capacity for luxury, all done in Cardooine wood with soft Thyferran wall hangings, and at least two genuine Corellian flame miniature sculptures undulating in the corner. Four chairs surrounded a clearplaz desk with an inset holo display and one miniaturized HoloNet terminal. Karrde sat in front of the computer and beckoned for Wedge and Kenji to sit. The two did, avoiding eye contact with one another. For the moment, Wedge regretted leaving Mos Eisley with the alien.
"Now," Karrde said amiably, though the hint of an edge could be detected in his cultured voice, "let's start with some news and an offer to our prospective friend here."
"News?" Wedge broke in before Karrde could say anything. "I overheard that Thrawn had taken Coruscant, just before Kenji and I burned out of Mos Eisley."
Karrde shook his head sorrowfully. "This is newer than that, though sadly, Coruscant has indeed fallen. No news of how bad the destruction was at this time."
"What about Admiral Ackbar?" Wedge asked anxiously. Though his entrance into the resistance was technically an act of rebellion and severance against the New Republic, he still counted the Admiral among his friends, and had hoped that he'd made it off the planet and out of the system before Thrawn was victorious.
Karrde grimaced. "He's still alive, for the moment. He took four Star Cruisers and set course for Bothawui after the Coruscant Debacle, and he's still coordinating defense of that area. There's little doubt that Thrawn will strike there; it's the last free refuge of the New Republic worth fighting for. No other planets give serious strategic or economic value to the New Republic, or whatever remains."
Karrde turned and focused his gaze on Kenji. "Which brings me to the offer. General Garm Bel Iblis and I are planning an operation to hit the Bothawui attack force when it hits the planet. If you want to prove yourself, you might consider offering whatever assistance you can."
Before Kenji could reply to that, the comm beeped insistently on Karrde's desk. Irritated, the smuggler slapped at the switch.
"What? I told you not to disturb me!"
The voice issuing out of the speaker was authoritarian and familiar, with hints of strain, curiosity and excitement mixed into it.
"Captain Karrde, this is Grandfather Lead," said the speaker, and Wedge's heart leapt. That was Bel Iblis' code name, and it sounded like the aging general had important news. "I've just concluded a short conversation with an alien visitor who claims to be an emissary of some sort, and he's said that he's got a companion on your end of things."
Kenji straightened, about to speak, but Karrde cut him off with a viciously slashing hand and a warning glare that set off a low growl in Kenji's throat. Obviously, Karrde wanted more from Bel Iblis.
"Really," Karrde said amiably. "What sort of alien?"
"Real nasty bugger," said Bel Iblis. "Never seen his type before. Big mouth full of teeth, two plus meters tall, weirdly jointed legs, claws, muscles, tentacles- a real piece of work."
Karrde breathed a heavy sigh into the comm. "You can relax, or relatively so, Grandfather," he explained. "I've got one here, and if it's a scam, it's a good one. I've offered them a place in Operation Phalanx Guard, but we've yet to discuss it."
"Thank you, Captain," Bel Iblis said. "Continue with my authorization, we'll work out the details later. Out." A fizzle of static marked the general's departure from the supposedly secure hypercomm waves.
Karrde turned back to Kenji, and Wedge sighed in relief. He had been half afraid the two stories would differ enough to cause an outbreak of violence, and having seen what Kenji could do, that wasn't something he particularly wanted to see.
"Well, my friend," Karrde said, "you have a choice now, since you appear to be legitimate. What'll it be?"
The In'ca Din'ca smiled toothily again, and Wedge caught a glimpse of what it would be like to face one of these aliens in combat on the ground. Definitely not a thought to dwell on or an idea to entertain as a good thing. He was glad the aliens appeared to be on their side.
"We will offer all the assistance we can," Kenji said. "In fact, we have been preparing for just such an eventuality. If you will allow me two hours to contact my reinforcements, we can begin planning the details."
Karrde nodded. "Very well. I'll have Dankin show you your guest quarters." A quick page and a whispered conversation solved that problem, but Wedge still felt uneasy. Karrde appeared to have agreed far more easily than was normal for him, and that had Wedge suspicious.
Once Kenji had left, Wedge turned questioning eyes on Karrde, his body asking his questions for him.
"Yes, a most interesting development," Karrde mused, pretending to ignore him for several seconds. "You wonder why I agreed that easily."
Wedge fidgeted, not wanting to question his superior but dying to know the answer to the riddle inside. "As a matter of face, I would like to know."
Karrde turned the computer's display panel towards Wedge, showing him a timeline that he'd obviously been surreptitiously generating the entire time he was conversing with Bel Iblis and the others.
"Note the sequence of events, Commander," he said in a lecturing tone. "Bilbringi falls; the resistance begins its activites, all within a month. Here, two months later, Coruscant falls, and two days later, our 'emissaries' arrive. Note that these emissaries already know much about our battles, and even something about our enemy, and our very schedules within the resistance."
Wedge whistled softly. "They've been planning this for a long time. If they wanted, they could have helped earlier."
"Yes," Karrde said grimly. "This begs the question: what do they really want?"
"It does, doesn't it?" Wedge mused, and he couldn't find an answer, which troubled him.
The high-security broadcast, shielded from Republic scanners and built into the fastest hypercomm available to its manufacturers, was completed, fixed with an approval seal, and transmitted to a location far within Wild Space within an hour after Kenji finished his undetected diagnostic and copying of Black Hole Base's files. The recipients of the broadcast quickly updated the orders hard-wired into the Stiletto's data banks, and sent an additional two hundred typed lines of instructions back to the hidden receiver.
--Sci-Fi Nerd
Chapter 3
The hangar of the asteroid base was small, spare, and filled with all manner of junked ships and parts that kept the resistance's patched together fleet flying. Narrow durasteel racks overhead kept the X-wings, TIEs, and other starfighters in good condition and out of the way of the bigger craft, while massive levitating refuel and repair blocks floated themselves out of the floor next to the docking slots when larger craft landed in the patched-together complex.
The Stiletto just barely fit into a docking station reserved for medium freighters, and Wedge sighed with relief. They'd made it all the way back to the hidden Black Hole Base without being followed (or so Kenji said; however, Wedge was still keeping an eye on him) and now they could relax.
Or not. Talon Karrde wasn't going to be happy at the unexpected visitor, especially of such an impromptu nature. The tale of blasting squads of stormtroopers to chunks to escape from Mos Eisley spaceport might alleviate some of his fears, but Wedge would lay his money on his alien companion getting a full interrogation.
The instant the Stiletto finished powering down, despite Wedge's transmission of the correct 'all-clear' signals, a group of well-armed and roughly dressed mercenaries surrounded the visible exits of the craft, two of them sporting PLX-2M missile launchers, fully loaded. The chip missiles wouldn't do much against the Stiletto fully powered, but if they got inside the ship, there would be hell to pay.
The ramp lowered with a smooth hiss of hydraulic fluids, and Wedge debarked first, hands held up in a placating gesture as he descended, boots clinking smoothly. The mercenaries stiffened, and then relaxed, smiling, but the weapons didn't lower.
"Son of the Sith!" someone burst out, and Wedge turned to see Kenji striding boldly down the ramp, minus holographic disguises, as if he owned the base. A couple of fingers twitched on blaster rifle triggers, but Talon Karrde's barked order as he entered the bay cut them off.
The smuggler captain's eyebrows were raised in astonishment as he moved towards Wedge, but the set of his shoulders and chin told the starfighter pilot and outlaw that he was in for a verbal beating.
"What in the nine Corellian hells is that thing doing here?" Karrde hissed quietly to Wedge, throwing a patently false smile at his new guest. "More to the point, what is he?"
Wedge searched for words for several seconds, but again, just like back on Mos Eisley, Kenji saved him again.
"I am an ambassador, Captain Karrde," the big alien explained smoothly. "My race wishes to join the fight against Grand Admiral Thrawn."
Karrde turned a skeptical gaze on Kenji's massive form. His narrow black goatee clenched as his jaw stiffened, and his arms crossed standoffishly over his chest. "Indeed?" he snorted in disbelief. "And I suppose you have something that we can just point at Thrawn and eradicate him, I suppose?"
Kenji seemed to smile, a wicked baring of his slicing teeth that made Wedge inch almost invisibly away from the big alien. Smiles like that made Wedge think of a hunting vornskr, and with Kenji's body type, he was sure the comparison wasn't that amiss.
"Nothing so grand," the In'ca Din'ca said. "But the Grand Admiral knows nothing of our race as yet, though we have begun to probe him. I suspect we have a very narrow window of opportunity in which to act."
Karrde surveyed him again, his gaze more thoughtful. Finally, he nodded and turned sharply, beckoning for Wedge and Kenji to follow.
"We'll talk in my office," he said.
Karrde's office was a small space, though larger than many of the other quarters in the tiny asteroid hideout. It was appointed with the smuggler's legendary capacity for luxury, all done in Cardooine wood with soft Thyferran wall hangings, and at least two genuine Corellian flame miniature sculptures undulating in the corner. Four chairs surrounded a clearplaz desk with an inset holo display and one miniaturized HoloNet terminal. Karrde sat in front of the computer and beckoned for Wedge and Kenji to sit. The two did, avoiding eye contact with one another. For the moment, Wedge regretted leaving Mos Eisley with the alien.
"Now," Karrde said amiably, though the hint of an edge could be detected in his cultured voice, "let's start with some news and an offer to our prospective friend here."
"News?" Wedge broke in before Karrde could say anything. "I overheard that Thrawn had taken Coruscant, just before Kenji and I burned out of Mos Eisley."
Karrde shook his head sorrowfully. "This is newer than that, though sadly, Coruscant has indeed fallen. No news of how bad the destruction was at this time."
"What about Admiral Ackbar?" Wedge asked anxiously. Though his entrance into the resistance was technically an act of rebellion and severance against the New Republic, he still counted the Admiral among his friends, and had hoped that he'd made it off the planet and out of the system before Thrawn was victorious.
Karrde grimaced. "He's still alive, for the moment. He took four Star Cruisers and set course for Bothawui after the Coruscant Debacle, and he's still coordinating defense of that area. There's little doubt that Thrawn will strike there; it's the last free refuge of the New Republic worth fighting for. No other planets give serious strategic or economic value to the New Republic, or whatever remains."
Karrde turned and focused his gaze on Kenji. "Which brings me to the offer. General Garm Bel Iblis and I are planning an operation to hit the Bothawui attack force when it hits the planet. If you want to prove yourself, you might consider offering whatever assistance you can."
Before Kenji could reply to that, the comm beeped insistently on Karrde's desk. Irritated, the smuggler slapped at the switch.
"What? I told you not to disturb me!"
The voice issuing out of the speaker was authoritarian and familiar, with hints of strain, curiosity and excitement mixed into it.
"Captain Karrde, this is Grandfather Lead," said the speaker, and Wedge's heart leapt. That was Bel Iblis' code name, and it sounded like the aging general had important news. "I've just concluded a short conversation with an alien visitor who claims to be an emissary of some sort, and he's said that he's got a companion on your end of things."
Kenji straightened, about to speak, but Karrde cut him off with a viciously slashing hand and a warning glare that set off a low growl in Kenji's throat. Obviously, Karrde wanted more from Bel Iblis.
"Really," Karrde said amiably. "What sort of alien?"
"Real nasty bugger," said Bel Iblis. "Never seen his type before. Big mouth full of teeth, two plus meters tall, weirdly jointed legs, claws, muscles, tentacles- a real piece of work."
Karrde breathed a heavy sigh into the comm. "You can relax, or relatively so, Grandfather," he explained. "I've got one here, and if it's a scam, it's a good one. I've offered them a place in Operation Phalanx Guard, but we've yet to discuss it."
"Thank you, Captain," Bel Iblis said. "Continue with my authorization, we'll work out the details later. Out." A fizzle of static marked the general's departure from the supposedly secure hypercomm waves.
Karrde turned back to Kenji, and Wedge sighed in relief. He had been half afraid the two stories would differ enough to cause an outbreak of violence, and having seen what Kenji could do, that wasn't something he particularly wanted to see.
"Well, my friend," Karrde said, "you have a choice now, since you appear to be legitimate. What'll it be?"
The In'ca Din'ca smiled toothily again, and Wedge caught a glimpse of what it would be like to face one of these aliens in combat on the ground. Definitely not a thought to dwell on or an idea to entertain as a good thing. He was glad the aliens appeared to be on their side.
"We will offer all the assistance we can," Kenji said. "In fact, we have been preparing for just such an eventuality. If you will allow me two hours to contact my reinforcements, we can begin planning the details."
Karrde nodded. "Very well. I'll have Dankin show you your guest quarters." A quick page and a whispered conversation solved that problem, but Wedge still felt uneasy. Karrde appeared to have agreed far more easily than was normal for him, and that had Wedge suspicious.
Once Kenji had left, Wedge turned questioning eyes on Karrde, his body asking his questions for him.
"Yes, a most interesting development," Karrde mused, pretending to ignore him for several seconds. "You wonder why I agreed that easily."
Wedge fidgeted, not wanting to question his superior but dying to know the answer to the riddle inside. "As a matter of face, I would like to know."
Karrde turned the computer's display panel towards Wedge, showing him a timeline that he'd obviously been surreptitiously generating the entire time he was conversing with Bel Iblis and the others.
"Note the sequence of events, Commander," he said in a lecturing tone. "Bilbringi falls; the resistance begins its activites, all within a month. Here, two months later, Coruscant falls, and two days later, our 'emissaries' arrive. Note that these emissaries already know much about our battles, and even something about our enemy, and our very schedules within the resistance."
Wedge whistled softly. "They've been planning this for a long time. If they wanted, they could have helped earlier."
"Yes," Karrde said grimly. "This begs the question: what do they really want?"
"It does, doesn't it?" Wedge mused, and he couldn't find an answer, which troubled him.
The high-security broadcast, shielded from Republic scanners and built into the fastest hypercomm available to its manufacturers, was completed, fixed with an approval seal, and transmitted to a location far within Wild Space within an hour after Kenji finished his undetected diagnostic and copying of Black Hole Base's files. The recipients of the broadcast quickly updated the orders hard-wired into the Stiletto's data banks, and sent an additional two hundred typed lines of instructions back to the hidden receiver.