The Bacta War (38 page)

“That’s true, because if you did, I’d see to it that you stopped feeling altogether.” Mirax squeezed his fingers. “Are you sure about this? Don’t you want to talk to Iella about it?”

“She’d tell me I’ve been an idiot for not asking you to marry me sooner. She and Diric were as close as any two people I’ve ever seen; and despite the pain she’s been through, I don’t think she’d have surrendered one moment of their happiness together to make her feel better. For as long as I’ve known her she’s had a habit of predicting how many weeks my relationships would last, and she was always on target. With us, no prediction.”

“Always did think she was smart.” Mirax held her right hand up. “One last thing, Corran: You realize that I’m not walking away from my lifestyle or my father. The Mirax Terrik you get is the Mirax Terrik you know.”

“I think your father and I have an understanding, but even if we didn’t, you’d be worth it. Realize I’m not going to change either.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Corran arched an eyebrow. “So?” He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “Will you marry me?”

Mirax lifted his hand from the table and kissed it. “Yes, I will, Corran Horn.”

The tension in him exploded in a nervous laugh that freed a single tear to roll down his cheek. He slipped his hand from hers, then pulled off the gold chain and Jedi medallion he wore. “This station isn’t a good place for finding jewelry and I didn’t want to ask Zraii to machine up a Quadanium ring, so all I have to offer you is this.” He held the medallion out by the chain, but Mirax refused to take it.

“Corran, I know how much that medallion means to you. It’s your good luck piece. I won’t take it, especially just before the coming assault.”

“Mirax, you’ve just agreed to marry me. Any luck left in this thing has clearly been drained. You’re the most important person in the galaxy to me, so if this will keep you safe, or
even if it will remind you of me, it’s better off with you than hanging around my neck.”

She accepted it from him and stared down at the medallion resting in her palm. She ran a thumb over Nejaa Halcyon’s profile and slowly smiled. “Do you think our children will look like him?”

“Better him than your father.” They both laughed. “At least for the boys, that is. If our daughters look like their mother, I’ll be as pleased as possible and as protective of them as your father is of you.”

Mirax looped the chain over her head and let it slip beneath her clothes. “I’m going to find you something that’s just as special as this is. Maybe I’ll talk to Zraii about fabricating something for you, something you’ll never forget.”

“Like what?”

“A ring, maybe, made from the
Lusankya
’s hull. It held you captive the way you hold my heart captive.”

“You’re good, Mirax, very good.”

“I’m the best, Corran, and you always push me to excel.”

He smiled. “So, when do we break the news to your father?”

Mirax paled slightly. “The
when
comes after the
how
I think. Give me some time to figure that out. We can tell Wedge, though, and some of the others, but that can wait until tomorrow. We have other things to do tonight.”

“Such as?”

“You, Corran Horn, have asked me to marry you, I have accepted and I intend us to do everything right in our marriage.” She stood up from the table and dragged him up after her. “Toward that end, there are certain things I think we should practice until we perform them perfectly.”

Fliry Vorru found it easy to read the emotions running through the two ship captains. The briefing Ysanne Isard was giving them clearly frightened Captain Lakwii Varrscha. Though the woman stood taller and was more muscled than Ysanne Isard, she lacked the vitality that gave Isard her commanding presence. That the woman had risen so high in Imperial
service marked her as competent, but Vorru felt her rise had much to do with the fact that she had hitched her career to that of Joak Drysso and his rising star had dragged her along to the limits of her abilities.

Joak Drysso, in contrast to Varrscha, was small and blocky, with prematurely gray hair that was matched by the color of his goatee. Despite his diminutive stature, he had an air of menace about him. Were it not for the perspective supplied by his surroundings, Vorru could have imagined him being a stormtrooper standing a hundred meters distant—lethal and not given to surrender.

Isard had chosen to wear her red Admiral’s uniform for the briefing, despite the heat and humidity. “There it is, then. You will be attacking an
Empress-
class space station. The armaments and shielding are minimal, though the chance that some upgrades are in place cannot be overlooked. The Yag’Dhul system is twenty-four hours from here. I expect the station to be destroyed and you to return here within sixty hours from now. Are there any questions?”

Drysso nodded sharply. “I have to wonder, Madam Director, at why you are sending both the
Lusankya
and the
Virulence
on this mission. The
Lusankya
, as well you know, has more than enough firepower to obliterate the station. In addition I have twelve squadrons of TIE fighters at my disposal, which is more than enough to overwhelm Antilles’s paltry forces. Even Minister Vorru’s most generous estimates of the Rogue strength gives us a two to one advantage in fighters, and as good as the Rogues might be, they cannot hope to prevail against us.”

Vorru cleared his throat. “You have forgotten the Alderaanian War Cruiser?”

“Its firepower is negligible. A Super Star Destroyer can absorb all the damage it can do and still destroy it at leisure. I will designate two squadrons of TIEs to keep it off me. There is no need for the
Virulence
to come with me on this mission. Moreover, its departure from Thyferra puts this world at risk.”

Isard blinked. “At risk? From whom?”

“Antilles and his people. Recall, his X-wings are hyperspace
capable. If they bolt when we arrive, they will be able to come here and have twelve hours to fly missions against positions here before we could possibly return.”

Vorru frowned. “Toward what end? Antilles can’t take this planet without troops.”

“But he has them, Minister Vorru, in the Ashern rebels.”

Isard waved their exchange away. “No matter—any gains they made in your absence would vanish when your return.”

“Leaving the
Virulence
here would prevent even minimal gains.” Drysso stroked his goatee. “While I have the utmost respect for and confidence in Captain Varrscha, her ship is not required on this mission.”

“Nor is it required to safeguard Thyferra.” Isard smiled slowly. “I have the Thyferran Home Defense Corps to ward off the Rogues, if they do what you say they will. What few of them the THDC allows to survive will be useless to the Ashern rebels. We can easily hold out for twelve or twenty-four hours—whatever it takes for your return. And the
Virulence
will be going with you to guarantee your return. Ait Convarion made the mistake you are making in underestimating Antilles. Convarion paid for his arrogance with his life.”

Drysso accepted Isard’s warning without a flicker of reaction. “I assure you, Madam Director, the
Lusankya
will return from Yag’Dhul victorious.”

“I trust this will be the case, Captain Drysso, otherwise you’ll have no reason to return here at all.” Isard nodded solemnly. “You will find the consequences of failure most disagreeable.”

Isard shifted her attention to Captain Varrscha and Vorru waited for the
Virulence
’s commander to collapse. “Captain Varrscha, you understand the mission as it has been given to you?”

“Yes, ma’am. The
Virulence
is to offer all aid and assistance to the
Lusankya
to complete its mission. I will execute Captain Drysso’s orders instantly.”

“Ah, I see.” Isard’s eyes narrowed. “You have served as Captain Drysso’s subordinate officer for years now, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Following his orders is admirable, but what would you do if you thought he was making a mistake?”

“I don’t understand the question, ma’am.”

Anger curled its way through Isard’s voice. “Are you capable of taking the initiative, Captain? If the
Lusankya
were suddenly faced with a threat, could you act to head that threat off without an order from Captain Drysso?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very good, Captain.” Isard strolled over to where the other woman stood, her voice dropping to the level of a growled whisper. “Understand this: The
Lusankya
is more valuable than you or your ship. Its preservation is vital for our continued success here at Thyferra. You will do whatever you must to see to it that the ship returns here. Captain Drysso may consider your presence to be that of an observer, but I consider you a shield between the
Lusankya
and disaster.”

Isard spun away from her and addressed all three of the individuals in the room. “If Antilles knows we are coming, he will have something prepared to oppose us. Even if he has not anticipated us, I do not think he will be helpless. He will be desperate, and desperation can inspire people to great feats of heroism. In desperation there is danger for our forces, so you must be careful. If your victory costs us too much, we could be in jeopardy.”

Drysso’s face became a resolute mask. “Victory will be mine, Madam Director.”

“Those are famous last words, Captain Drysso.” Isard snorted derisively. “Do your best to see you do not join the teeming mass of failures for whom those
were
the last words.”

Iella Wessiri snapped the trigger assembly for her blaster carbine back into place and tightened the bolt to secure it. She picked up a power pack to slam it home, but stopped when Elscol Loro crouched and squeezed through the opening to the Vratix den they shared. “News?”

The smaller woman nodded. “All leaves have been canceled for crew from the
Lusankya
and the
Virulence
. Within six hours or so they should be under way.”

“No convoy is forming up?”

“Nope, this is clearly a strike mission.”

Iella frowned. “You mean
the
strike mission.”

“Isard does appear to be dancing to the tune Wedge has called.” Elscol shrugged. “I just hope Wedge can pay the synthesizer jockey when the bill comes due.”

“He took Coruscant. Freeing this rock isn’t going to be that much tougher.”

“Yes, but Isard
wanted
the New Republic to have Coruscant. She’s being a bit more possessive about Thyferra.”

“True.” Iella set her carbine down, then hit several buttons on her chronometer. “Well, this news puts us on the clock, then, I guess. Forty-eight hours after the
Lusankya
leaves Thyferra, Wedge and the others will be here. You’ve already told Sixtus we’re on?”

“He and his taskforce are already heading to their staging points and expect to be in position to liberate the detention center when they get our signal.”

Iella caught a funny note in Elscol’s voice. “And you’d still like that signal to be a lift-truck bomb being flown into the Xucphra administrative headquarters to blow it up, right?”

“Call me silly, but I don’t see why risking injury in an assault so you can capture Isard is preferable to scattering her constituent atoms all over the place with a bomb. And don’t give me the justice line again.”

Iella shook her head. “Look, I know how evil Isard is—she turned my husband into a mockery of himself. I’d like nothing better than to shove a blaster up her nose and melt her brain. I wouldn’t consider it murder—”

“Nor would anyone else.”

“—But her death isn’t the point. Stopping her is. Even more important than that is to let her be tried in a court of law for her crimes. It’s vital to let people know that the laws have purpose and that evil people
will
be held accountable for what they do.”

Elscol frowned. “And a bomb doesn’t do that?”

“A bomb is just more anarchy. Killing her that way will allow people to say she had to be kept quiet or important people would have been revealed to be collaborators. Blowing her up allows people to say she really escaped the blast. The lack of a trial, because she won’t be held accountable for all of her crimes, means people can begin to think she wasn’t so bad. Twenty years from now, thirty or fifty, there could be a neo-Imperial movement that holds her up as an example to be emulated. Blowing her up will make her a martyr, but a trial will show her up as a monster, warts and all.”

Elscol chewed her lower lip for a moment, then shook her head. “Well, I hate to admit it, but you’re actually making some sense. I must need a vacation.”

“We
all
need a vacation.”

“Okay, we’ll find some resort on a world where the Empire is just a nasty rumor,
if
we survive this assault of yours.”

“
When
we survive it, you mean.”

Elscol smiled. “Right,
when
we survive it. I hope, though, you aren’t expecting me to go in there with my selector lever on stun. Ain’t going to happen.”

Iella retrieved her carbine and slid a power pack home. “If it shoots back, I’m shooting to kill. With Vorru, Isard, or Dlarit, I’ll go for a stun shot, but only if that’s not going to get me or anyone else killed.”

“Your plan calls for more finesse than the bomb, but I guess we can make it work.”

“We will.” Iella nodded solemnly. “Two days until Thyferra regains its freedom and Ysanne Isard loses hers.”

35

Captain Joak Drysso let a low sinister laugh fill the dark hollow of the ready-room on the
Lusankya
. He recalled with holographic clarity the image of the
Executor
plunging into the heart of the half-completed Death Star at Endor. He’d known at that point that the battle was lost, so he’d taken his
Virulence
and fled from the battle.
I always knew I would have another chance to crush Rebels
.