Chapter Fifteen
Wedge checked his squadron's status reports one last time as Ession Strike hummed through hyperspace towards Ukio. This was the best condition the Rogues had been in since the Thrawn campaign. They had fresh new fighters and spare parts, and Zraii had done his usual exemplary job; all eleven fighters came up all in the green. But he still wished that Luke was there so they'd have that extra edge. And he'd have another friend to talk to.
"Hyperspace reversion in five minutes," Atril's voice said into his ear. "The main formation and the secondary strike forces should already be engaged and drawing the Imperials out of our attack vector."
"Let's hope that Bel Iblis' precise timing works out again this time," Wedge murmured, switching his HUD to review the battle plan one last time. It wasn't the most elaborate attack plan Wedge had ever seen, a relatively simple three-pronged thrust and retreat, but the timing was vital and there were plenty of chances for kark-ups, even assuming they weren't speeding into a trap.
"We're cutting it a little close, but at least this plan doesn't involve us diving in to engage two Star Destroyers and their escorts all by ourselves," her voice came back, an odd mix of amusement and relief.
"If this all plays out as it should, we'll just be taking on freighters and maybe some TIEs," Wedge agreed. "Nothing we can't handle. The rest of the fleet got the tough assignments."
Gate whistled at him to let him know the rest of the squadron wanted his attention, and flipped his comm back to the squadron channel. He was pleased to hear confident banter. "So, Boss," Hobbie said. "What rank does Plourr have? I mean, she's a Queen right? Does a Queen outrank a General?"
"Queen is not a military rank," Corran put in with a flat affect.
"Plourr never resigned her military commission," Wedge replied. "And her current rank is Major."
"Major Mom," Wes put in cheekily. "I like it, it has a nice ring to it."
"Careful, Wes," Plourr's voice came next. "I'll order you to do some babysitting. You know my rank predates yours, so technically I outrank you, right?"
"This is unfair!" Wes objected. "That's only because I kept turning down promotions. And I'm sure that's a violation of my dignity as an officer! Right, Tycho?"
"I'm not sure," Tycho said, maintaining the calm command tone he used during briefings and battle. "I'm a Colonel, and Force knows I've babysat for the Solos enough."
"You're dating their nanny!" Wes whined.
"Go ahead Wes," Tycho said, voice dangerously even. "You tell Winter she's a nanny and see what happens. And do you really want to tell Plourr no? She's twice your size."
"Wedge, the other Rogues are ganging up on me," Wes said with a laugh. "They're going to ask me to babysit!" There was a pause. "Although, you know, maybe that would be fun… didn't Plourr say something about shooting nobles with water pistols?"
"Wes, no one sane asks a thirteen-year-old boy to babysit," said Wedge, "I give it a month before you get an insistent demand from Her Beneficent Majesty. And I will happily grant you leave to do so."
"Thanks!"
"Wait, no, what—" came Janson and Plourr's voices.
Wedge's comm board lit up as Strike's Bothan communication's officer cut in. "Rogues, reversion in thirty seconds," he said firmly.
Ession Strike came out of hyperspace as close to Ukio as it could. On her plot, Atril saw the battle updates start to rapidly come in. The main battle was taking place on the far side of the planet, with the primary Republic formation and the primary Imperial formation slugging it out on the opposite edge of Ukio's gravity well, well out of range to intervene. On the other side of the system, the secondary battle opened as Freedom and Endurance charged towards the system's largest gas giant and its orbiting Tibanna gas mining station. Their shields already glowed under the barrage from the two enemy Impstars, but Endurance's fighters were about to get their well-armed teeth into their assailants.
There were no enemy warships waiting for Strike, and Atril covertly clenched her fist and knocked it on the arm of her chair victoriously, letting out a tension-filled breath before slowly drawing in another and examining her prey.
Three Imperial freighters, of a variety of makes, and all the time in the world to shred them. General Bel Iblis had been right, yet again. Now it was her turn to get the job done before they could escape into hyperspace, and before the Imperials could scramble a real defense. "Designate the freighters in front of us as Targets One, Two, and Three. Full power to the engines and guns. Rogue Squadron, launch!"
Admiral Teren Rogriss watched his plot in dismay as the electronic icon that was the Republican Star Destroyer Freedom poured turbolaser and ion cannon fire into Suwen Station. The station had two Star Destroyers defending it, but they had been outmatched by Freedom and the Republic's new fleet carrier, which had swarmed the Empire's TIE squadrons with A-wings, X-wings, and B-wings that smashed through the Imperial fighter screen and hit the the station with proton torpedoes and ion cannons. The Republic forces hadn't inflicted too much damage on the Star Destroyers, but with fighter cover gone from the station Bel Iblis' forces had executed a singleminded and inexorable thrust. The old Corellian's objective was plain as the two Republic ships singlemindedly focused on the stationary target. The much-needed Tibanna gas mines which radiated out from Suwen Station, hovering over the constantly-flowing clouds of the Ukio system's largest gas giant, rang with explosions. Each sub-district lighting up triggered a sympathetic detonation in its neighbor, surrounding the station with a ring of fire formed from the debris of costly Imperial investments and months of lost munitions.
The station's repulsorlifts died under Freedom's ion bombardment and it started to slowly sink into the cloudy mists below. Evacuation craft launched from it, ejecting and rising unsteadily. They were ignored by the combatants as the survivors scrambled away from the doomed station and the gas giant's gravity.
That was hardly the worst of it. The battle over Suwen was on the other side of the system, and while on that front Rogriss could do nothing more than watch, he and Pellaeon had enough problems all their own. Four Mon Calamari cruisers, Bel Iblis' dreadnaughts, and a smattering of smaller vessels had drawn in the bulk of Rogriss' forces, including Chimaera. They had seemingly presented the vanguard of the long-awaited New Republic invasion, but it was obvious now that Garm Bel Iblis had been hunting easier game than Ukio itself. Through Chimaera's bridge window he could see Agonizer and the Republic's Ivardal and Innasval engaged in a brutal brawl, red and green lights flickering between them. Agonizer took hit after hit under the metronomic pounding, it's never-fully-repaired engines finally flickering and dying. The ship started drifting out of line and lost formation with Chimaera, forcing Nemesis to evade.
Nonetheless, Rogriss still had this flank of the Republic's attack on even terms with a full five Star Destroyers, including the wounded Agonizer, and their escorts. The Death's Head and Judicator were trying to cut off the Republic's forces to prevent their retreat, but there was no real chance of success; as soon as the attack on Suwen Station had begun, the main Republic formation had begun its withdrawal. They'd already exited Ukio's gravity well and could vanish at any time; they only remained to distract the Imperials long enough to ensure that the rest of their forces could also escape.
And in the middle of the system, the damned corvette Ession Strike and the thrice-bedamned Rogue Squadron were making mincemeat of his freighters. They'd already smashed up three bulk freighters and were now engaged in a shootout with a doomed Star Galleon which had been locked out of Ukio when the planet's defensive shields had gone up. Unlike the freighters the galleon could've taken Strike in a straight-up fight, but it was ill-prepared to deal with the snubfighters. As Rogriss watched, too far away to help but close enough to see, three X-wings unleashed another volley of proton torpedoes, slamming them into the galleon's blunt nose. Explosions tore through the vessel, and even if he'd had TIE fighters to spare to engage them, there was no way to get there in time to do any good. Besides, his pilots were nowhere near as skilled as the Republic's top aces, and Rogriss was running precariously short of TIEs as it was.
A three-pronged hit-and-fade. The attack underscored just how precarious Rogriss's strategic position really was. They were locked in a system they couldn't defend, protecting a planet that couldn't repair them, fighting off a superior force under one of the best military minds the enemy had to offer. Garm Bel Iblis was far too dangerous; offering him such luxury was tempting fate.
It hadn't been all bad for the Empire. Agonizer had given as good as she'd gotten, and Innasval was sure to need some time for repairs. The initial fleet engagement had been slightly better than even, which had made Pellaeon and Rogriss both nervous, but they didn't have the forces to not take it seriously.
All the Republic forces were in full withdrawal now, making it clear that they had no intent to try to take Ukio today. The main formation was the first to vanish into hyperspace, leaving Chimaera's final shots to hum through the void until they finally dissipated. Freedom and Endurance went next, blasting their engines until they exited Suwen's gravity well and then jumping away, a small hurricane of snubfighters leaping out with them.
Last was the corvette and the X-wings. The X-wings didn't bother to try to dock aboard Ession Strike, the maneuver would've been too difficult under these conditions, but they didn't need to. One by one each X-wing streaked away into hyperspace. The corvette waited until all eleven had safely fled and then it too flared, its bed of engines glowing momentarily before a flicker of pseudomotion carried it into hyperspace.
They could've stayed. Bel Iblis' forces had outnumbered the Empire in pure raw material terms. Had they fought it out, they might have been able to wreck his whole fleet. The only reason they didn't, Rogriss suspected, was they thought they'd be able to do that at some point of their choosing in the future, when the doing of it would not be so costly.
No. There was no way to win. The defense of Ukio was simply untenable. The best he could do was stall, and Rogriss wasn't sure how much longer he could do even that.
Four hours later, the battle was concluded and the fleet group nursed its wounds. Rogriss was in his office, reviewing the after-action reports, when Captain Pellaeon arrived. "Admiral," Pellaeon's voice was rock-steady, a confident foundation and support. "We have just finalized the final casualty summary. Suwen Station is a total loss, and the Rebels destroyed three of our bulk freighters and the Star Galleon Ferox. Among our Star Destroyers, Agonizer reports the most serious damage, with more minor damage to Judicator and Nemesis. Two of Agonizer's three main engines have been seriously damaged." Pellaeon relaxed slightly, but his expression was grim. "Agonizer will require significant yard time before it can be made combat-ready again, Sir."
Rogriss nodded, unsurprised. His still face did little to betray his dismay, but Pellaeon could probably see it anyway. Agonizer had never been fully repaired after the debacle at Hishyim, and the Republic had specifically targeted it during the engagement earlier that day. They had recognized a vulnerability, and they had exploited it. It hurt to see the ship which had carried his flag for most of the last two decades so badly maimed. "We'll have to send Agonizer to Linuri for repairs," he said with a sigh.
"Yes, sir," Pellaeon agreed, "but, sir..." Pellaeon's expression somehow grew even grimmer, "I had Lieutenant Tschel contact the Linuri repair yard. The yard reports that there is already a seriously-damaged Star Destroyer already with priority repair status, and that the repairs are expected to take several more weeks at least."
"What?" Rogriss looked up in surprise, then turned to his computer. "The Council of Moffs placed the Linuri yards under my exclusive purview," he said unnecessarily; Pellaeon already knew that. "The only person who can reserve their use for vessels outside this squadron is Moff Disra, and so far as I know he has no ships that might need repair. We've had no reports of Republic raids on Linuri."
"I know that, sir," Pellaeon replied, also unnecessarily. "Nonetheless, they report that they won't be able to see to Agonizer's repairs for several weeks."
Rogriss shooks his head. That was absolutely unacceptable. He needed all his ships in combat shape, and did not have weeks to spare. He doubted Bel Iblis would wait weeks before hitting Ukio again, certainly if the situation were reversed he would not wait that long. "Do we know which ship is under repair?"
"I have Lieutenant Dreyf preparing a full report on that, Admiral. The repair yard reports that the Star Destroyer Invidious is under repair."
There had been a time, not that long ago, when the Imperial Starfleet had possessed so many Star Destroyers, under so many commanders, that even an Admiral like Rogriss would not have known all their names. Star Destroyers could appear and disappear, carrying on their business, and seeing one you didn't recognize occasionally passing through your sector wasn't cause for alarm. There were simply so many ships, on so many missions, that he could assume that each and every one had a specific purpose, even if he did not know what that purpose was.
That time was past. Rogriss had seven Star Destroyers and their escorts. He knew every ship in the Albrion Sector, and he knew every ship that the Empire had stationed in the galactic southeast at large. All of those vessels were under his overall command, and each and every one had a specific assignment that he had either given or approved.
Invidious was not one of them.
He scowled. "Prepare the secure communications center," he growled. "I need to have a talk with Moff Disra."
Moff Disra sat in his office, ruminating. At this hour, the sun came through the window at just the right angle, casting all the wood furnishings with a glowing, golden hue. His smattering of personal possessions gleamed with reflected sunlight, service awards and promotion plaques sending occasional glare through the room.
Outside his window Kinham Bay was busy, the locals out in their antiquated sailing craft; the typical light, temperate breeze inflating sails and carrying the boats languidly through the calm waves. People in bathing suits or other light, comfortable clothes wandered the streets, chatting amiably, as if they'd forgotten there was a war on. Ever since Thrawn had suspended the forced impressment of Imperial youth into the fleet, the general tenor among the local populace had been that the war was all but over, especially among the upper-class that principally inhabited Kinham. Disra wondered what they would do when the Empire was inevitably forced to resume the practice, now that Thrawn's cloning facilities were destroyed.
He scrolled through the datapad with the latest intelligence reports, fresh from the latest Imperial Intelligence courier. There were a few highlighted points, including the formal inauguration of the Smugglers' Alliance as an employed third-party actor by the New Republic, which was followed by several suggestions for ways that relationship might be undermined. Disra, with his long relationships both covert and overt with the Fringe, knew better than most the potential value that the Rebellion (and especially canny men like Airen Cracken) could potentially derive from the new business association.
There were several long pages of Rebellion fleet maneuvers he skipped over as useless; only one part specifically was highlighted, which indicated that members of the Eiattu System Defense Force had been redeployed to an unknown location for unknown reasons. Intelligence suspected they'd been sent to reinforce Garm Bel Iblis, which was annoying (Disra hadn't been sent any reinforcements to help Rogriss cling to Albrion, after all), but not especially concerning. One system's defense forces was hardly a serious threat on its own.
He kept reading. Every once in a while there was something in one of these reports that was exploitable, that he could turn around and use for his own benefit. He stopped, pursing his lips and re-read one of the miscellaneous items near the end of the document.
IMPERIAL INTELLIGENCE INTERCEPTED COMMUNICATIONS FROM NRI FACILITY ON COMMENOR WARNING THAT REBELLION HOLONET COMMUNICATIONS HAVE BEEN COMPROMISED BY AN UNKNOWN THIRD PARTY. NRI SUGGESTED HOLONET BE RESTRICTED TO VITAL MESSAGES ONLY AND THE USE OF INCREASED ENCRYPTION OF ALL HOLONET COMMUNICATIONS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. INVESTIGATION UNDERWAY.
Disra read it again, and then a third time, a distant memory stirring. When he'd been Moff Vorru's aide, back home on Corellia, Vorru had often had a knack for knowing things he shouldn't have. Vorru had always played it off with a polite smile, an insinuation of omniscience; an attempt to further enlarge his already larger-than-life persona. At the time, Disra had admired that about him. Disra had admired a lot about him.
Disra stroked his chin thoughtfully. It hadn't been omniscience, of course. Vorru had an asset—a tool that he'd used to collect and use information to greatest effect. The rumors through the Fringe—which Vorru had used Disra to manage—had been of a legendary slicer, for whom the HoloNet was an open book. When Vorru had been arrested, such rumors had stopped, and Disra had always assumed the slicer had gone underground, or been arrested with Vorru and become a tool of Palpatine or Isard. But now Vorru was back, as pompous and self-assured as ever, and NRI was concerned that their HoloNet communications were compromised.
No, he decided. It wasn't a coincidence. Vorru was back, and with him was his mysterious slicer. He wondered, idly, what the slicer had been doing for the past fifteen-odd years. He wondered even more why anyone who knew him well would be so loyal to Fliry Vorru. Blackmail, most likely, he thought with a bitter frown.
His intercom buzzed. "Yes," he said, thumbing it on.
"I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, sir," said the officer on watch. "Admiral Rogriss is on the HoloNet, and he wishes to speak with you personally."
Disra frowned at the intercom. Rogriss? "Of course. Put Admiral Rogriss through on my office holocomm." One of the benefits, he thought as he swiveled his chair so that he faced the holographic projector on his desk, of being a Moff was that the Empire went through a great amount of effort to make sure that his secure communications were both convenient and comfortable.
He reached to the interface on the arm of his chair, and the painting on the wall behind his head transformed from one of the Kinham harbor, which he used to make the locals feel welcome in his office, to one of an Imperial Star Destroyer, nose angled towards the viewer, confident and powerful.
He thumbed the holocomm. Admiral Rogriss appeared as a small blue figure, his image flickering. He wore the traditional admiral's cap, and his arms were folded behind his back as he stood at attention. "Moff Disra," he said respectfully as the communications link was fully established.
"Admiral Rogriss," Disra returned smoothly, although his voice and manner had never been able to match Vorru's calm, effortless charisma. "This is an unexpected pleasure."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Rogriss replied, bowing his head again. "I am afraid that I must report the New Rep—the Rebellion has attacked Ukio. Their attack was successfully repulsed by my forces, but Suwen Station was destroyed and several of my heavy transports, including a Star Galleon, were damaged. The Star Destroyer Agonizer is also badly in need of repairs."
Disra's expression tightened. It was not really a surprise that the Rebellion had launched another attack on Ukio—such attacks would continue until they captured the system, no doubt—and it was good news that Rogriss had managed to repel it, but those losses were severe. "I trust you gave as good as you got, Admiral," he said with forced cheer.
"We endeavoured to do so, sir. We believe that one enemy Star Cruiser is similarly out of action, and several others took varying degrees of damage."
"Excellent," Disra replied, not really believing him. Rogriss was a good admiral but even more than being a good admiral he was a good politician, and he had no doubt framed his report of the battle in the best possible light. Disra knew that everything he had said was true—no Imperial officer would be stupid enough to lie to a Moff, not with the penalties for such things—but he doubted the Rebellion (or Rogriss himself) would agree that the battle had been a "success" for the Imperials. "I thank you for your report, Admiral."
"Yes, sir." Rogriss hesitated. "Moff Disra, I would like to dispatch Agonizer to Linuri for immediate repair. The Linuri yards are the closest ones we have for any kind of large-scale repair job, and Agonizer's engineers believe that two of the ship's Destroyer-I engines will need that kind of extensive repair. They're also concerned that the ship's number two engine might need full replacement."
It was Disra's turn to hesitate. Normally, this would not be a complicated request. But the Linuri rapid repair unit could only manage a single Star Destroyer at a time, and thanks to Vorru they were already occupied. Invidious, with its extensive damage, was in the middle of a long-overdue overhaul, and its Captain (or Admiral, or Moff, or whatever Tavira wanted to call herself) had insisted that all components which needed or might need replacement be replaced. The procedure would take another week at least, and could not now be postponed—not without kicking Invidious out with half its systems non-functional.
Vorru had been quite clear about the consequences if he failed to cooperate with Tavira's wishes. "I'm afraid the Linuri yards are otherwise occupied, Admiral," Disra said. He knew better than to elaborate—it was best to say as little as possible about the matter.
"Otherwise occupied?" Rogriss' expression bore the polite surprise of a man who felt none. "Moff Disra, I was under the impression that the only Imperial-class Star Destroyers in this region were under my command, and I have all seven of them with me at Ukio. Has the Starfleet sent another?"
Disra hesitated again. "Of sorts," he settled on saying. "The Star Destroyer Invidious has been performing classified missions on behalf of the ISB," he lied blithely, but that was the benefit of the ISB—no one would dare to ask, and ISB wouldn't tell even if they did "—and sustained damage on one of those missions."
"Invidious?" Rogriss asked. His expression became thoughtful. "Invidious was once part of Admiral Teradoc's forces, I believe. Who commands the vessel now?"
Disra silently damned Vorru for putting him in this situation. It was clear Rogriss already knew the answers to these questions, but they were innocent and if he had nothing to hide, he would have to answer them. "Admiral Leonia Tavira."
"The former Moff of Ado Sector? I didn't realize she had connections to ISB. I hope the vessel's damage is not that severe." Rogriss shook his head. "Moff Disra, I need Agonizer fully repaired as soon as possible. General Bel Iblis is pressing Ukio and his fleet has received reinforcements, while mine has not."
There was an opening for Disra to reclaim a bit of position. "Invidious did engage the Rebellion in Albrion Sector not long ago," he said. "In fact, Admiral Tavira managed to destroy or cripple five X-wings belonging to the fabled Rogue Squadron. Some small recompense for the losses you sustained at Hishyim." Hopefully, Disra thought, that would be enough to satisfy (or at least deflect) Rogriss.
It clearly caught Rogriss by surprise, and his eyes widened for a moment. The small, blue-tinged hologram was not especially emotive—especially when dealing with Imperial officers who were trained from academy orientation on to conceal their feelings—but in this case, Rogriss had not done enough to hide it fully. "I see," he said after a moment to consider. The Admiral hovered, clearly debating what to say next, and then nodded his head. "How long until the fleet yards will be available for Agonizer?"
"I will find out for you, and impress upon the yard crews the importance of finishing the repairs to Invidious with all due haste," Disra promised. "I apologize for the inconvenience, Admiral Rogriss, but I know that you are a good servant of the Empire, and I will deliver to you whatever aid and reinforcement I can as soon as possible." Disra ended the call before he let his anger show on his face.
Damn you, Vorru. You have put me into a horribly precarious situation. If Rogriss decides to investigate and is bold enough to call me on my ISB bluff… but Rogriss wouldn't call him on that bluff. Rogriss was an Imperial commander of the old school, one of the few who still cared about concepts like honor, service, and loyalty.
He thumbed his intercom.
"Kelso here, sir," the officer on watch said.
"Kelsin, I want a secure line to Invidious. Tell Admiral Tavira to be waiting for me in ten minutes."
"I don't care what you think you have over me, I want to speak to Vorru!" Disra hissed, serpentine, at the tiny image of Leonia Tavira.
"Moff Disra," her image smiled, patience visibly thin. "As I've already told you, Moff Vorru is unavailable. He has gone offworld."
"Offworld! Offworld!" Disra snarled angrily at her pretentious little face. "You have the gall to blackmail me and then ignore me? What will you do if I order the repair yards to cease its work on your Star Destroyer? What if I order them to start dismantling your weapons and shields and leave you vulnerable?"
Tavira's violet eyes were cold. "I no longer need Vorru to hold you in check, Disra. Not that I ever did, of course. If you attempt to carry out any of those threats, I'll simply submit Invidious' actual record from the last six months to Imperial Fleet Command, along with a copy of the conversation you had with Moff Vorru and complete copies of all his files on your past activities."
Disra froze.
Tavira's smile was colder than her gaze. "Are we quite clear?"
Disra favored her with a furious expression. "If you do that, you won't get the repairs you so desperately need. And you'll make yourself a target."
"True. But I don't need the Empire, and I know better than to fear it." She brushed some invisible lint off her shoulder, then adjusted her bandana unnecessarily. "I have a base of power all my own, and leeching off the Empire is merely a convenience, not a necessity. Unlike you, who've sold yourself to it wholesale."
Disra raised a finger angrily. "Fine. You tell Vorru that Rogriss is suspicious and I need to give him something, anything, to get him off our trail. And you tell him that I remember all his little tricks while we worked together in the Corellian office, and I know he's back up to them. You tell him that he's going to do one of those tricks for me, understand? I need to give Rogriss a victory, a real victory, or I can't even guarantee these repair yards will still be here in three months, not with the Rebellion breathing down my neck."
Tavira considered him for a long moment. "Very well. I will tell him," she agreed. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Moff Disra?"
"Yes," he snarled. "Get the hell out of my sector." He hit the intercom with a fist and her image vanished.
His hand hurt, but that pain was barely an afterthought compared to the fear gnawing at his gut.