The Bacta War (39 page)

He didn’t believe for an instant the fiction that Antilles and his people were outcasts from the New Republic. Theirs was obviously a mission meant to keep Isard bottled up until they could deal with her—and Antilles had done a good job of keeping her attention on him. Had he not preoccupied her, she might have seen the wisdom of creating an Imperial Combine, bringing together the various Warlords out there to put an end to the New Republic. It would have been very successful, he was certain of that, and she could have even led it because she possessed what everyone else wanted: Bacta.

Isard’s short-sightedness in this regard didn’t surprise Drysso, primarily because she thought like a politician, not a warrior. Isard took great delight in being subtle and tricky, then when she decided to wield a hammer, she did it in a very
clumsy manner. Sending Convarion out to destroy Halanit was a wasted gesture. An assault shuttle and a squadron of TIEs could have laid waste to that settlement. The attack did nothing but salve her ego and anger Antilles.

He would have handled things entirely differently. Drysso had agreed a strike was necessary, but he would have gone after Corellia and brought the Diktat to heel, adding Corellia and its shipyards to the Iceheart Empire. That would supply them the means of building more ships. He would have then badgered Kuat into making a similar deal, giving him access to those shipyards.
And then on to Sluis Van. Once I have those three sites under my control, I can strangle the New Republic by restricting trade—without ships and shipyards, nothing moves between stars
.

Drysso had chosen to stay with Isard because he thought she represented the best chance at reestablishing the Empire, and because she had the most legitimate claim to the throne itself. He had supported her decision to abandon Coruscant—
a world that does not provide the means to wage war is worth little in a war
. The New Republic’s conquest of it
did
hamper the Rebellion, and Isard’s possession of the Bacta Cartel put her in a very powerful position in the galaxy.

Unfortunately, her power is embodied by this ship
. Drysso caressed the arms of the command chair in which he sat.
Only through this ship can she project her power to other worlds, command their compliance and punish their defiance. Now this ship is mine and thus is her power ceded to me
.

The comlink clipped to his jacket beeped. “Drysso here.”

“Captain, five minutes to reversion to realspace.”

“On my way to the bridge.” Drysso stood and strode from the ready-room to a turbolift for the short ride up to the bridge. As the lift slowed, he composed himself, setting his face with a stern expression. The door opened and he immediately strode out onto the Captain’s walk. “Report, Lieutenant Rosion.”

The Chief Navigator looked up from the pit where he worked. “We’re coming in as scheduled. The station is in orbit around Yag’Dhul, occupying an orbit outside of that of the largest of Yag’Dhul’s three moons, with its position always
opposite that moon. We are coming in on the only good entry vector that won’t run us afoul of the world, its moons, or the system’s sun. The station should be clear for an attack once we close into range.”

“Very good.” Drysso glanced over at his communications officer. “Ensign Yesti, when we revert to realspace, please inform the
Virulence
that we expect it to come in below us at a range of twenty kilometers. Inform Captain Varrscha she is not to power her weapons up except under my direct order.”

“As ordered, Captain.”

Drysso continued to walk forward until he reached the viewing station. The light tunnel through which the ship sped began to break down into long shafts of light. They, in turn, resolved themselves into unwavering gemstones set in a black blanket. Directly ahead of the ship’s distant prow, the system’s sun burned brightly. Yag’Dhul and its moons appeared as colorful spheres hanging in space. Silhouetted against Yag’Dhul’s gray face, the space station appeared to be little more than a cross—insignificant and defenseless.

“Captain, we’re showing signs of snubfighter deployment at the station.”

“Very well, tell Colonel Arl he is free to deploy his fighters in a defensive screen. Have you spotted the Alderaanian War Cruiser yet?”

“Negative,” reported Drysso’s aide. “We are clear for a hundred kilometers around us, and
Virulence
is reporting similar clearance.”

“Push the sensor sphere out to two hundred kilometers, Lieutenant Waroen, and keep scanning the fringes of the system for that War Cruiser. Time to engagement?”

“Ten minutes to range.”

“Bring our shields up to full.”

“As ordered, sir.”

Drysso stroked his goatee as he watched the station grow larger. The scrambling of the station’s snubfighters did not surprise him. That was the only reaction they could have, which is why he countered with deploying his fighters in a screen. It would be difficult for the X-wings to work their way through his screen and, while engaging in dogfights, all
but impossible for them to maintain the sort of unit cohesion needed for a crushing volley of proton torpedoes to be launched at his ship. While proton torpedoes and concussion missiles were certainly a danger to his ship, they were only a danger in vast quantities—far more than three dozen snubfighters could possibly deliver.

“Captain, the snubfighters are going to lightspeed.”

“Thank you, Waroen. Please confirm they are outbound for Thyferra.”

His aide’s surprise rang through his reply. “Yes, sir, that’s it exactly.”

“Good. They will arrive there after twelve hours in tiny cockpits, short on fuel and sleep. The Thyferrans can deal with them. We’ll make certain they have no place to return to.”

Light laughter greeted his comment, then the communications officer raised his voice above the din. “Captain, we have an incoming message from the station.”

Drysso turned and pointed to a holoprojector pad to his left. “Please, Ensign Yesti, route it here.” As the image began to resolve itself into that of a tall man with one artificial eye, Drysso raised himself to his full height. “This is Captain Joak Drysso of the
Lusankya
. Your fighters have deserted you.”

“I sent the fighters off to play with something more their size.” The tall man’s hologram posted its fists on its hips. “I’m Booster Terrik, and this is my station. Your rate of closure puts you five minutes out from your preferred range for this sort of operation. I’ll give you those five minutes before I destroy your ship.”

“You’re rather bold, Terrik, for having a station with minimal shields, a half-dozen laser cannons, and ten turbo-laser batteries.”

Terrik’s image laughed. “We’ve made some modifications to the station.” The figure nodded to someone outside the image area.

Drysso felt the
Lusankya
rock a bit. He immediately signaled for Yesti to cut off the transmission, then he snarled at his aide. “What happened?”

“They powered up a gravity well projector. It’s projecting
a cone of energy in our direction. It can’t hurt us—the bump was just our own gravity-keeping generators adjusting the gravity on the ship. We have no damage or injury reports coming in.”

Drysso frowned. The only thing the gravity well projector did was prevent them from turning and going to light-speed while still in the cone. “Lieutenant Rosion, compute hyperspace solutions for me.”

“That will be difficult, sir. Because of Yag’Dhul’s density, the array of the moons, and the gravity cone, we’re severely limited in our choices. All we can do is run away from the plane of the elliptic until we escape the current constraints on us, then head out. If you want us to return to Thyferra, our best bet would be get free, take a short jump to the edge of the system, and then head back on our entry vector, since that is the fastest route to Thyferra.”

Something else is going on here
. “Lieutenant Waroen, shift assets to scan the edges of the system along our entry/exit vector.”

“Yes, sir.”

Drysso turned to watch his red-haired aide work. The young man’s pale complexion drained further of color. “Sir, I have a small taskforce on the system rim. It is composed of snubfighters and freighters and maybe a larger ship.”

“An ambush?”

“Perhaps, no, wait. Sir, the ships are outbound toward Thyferra. Exit speed is consistent with that of the freighters or our own ships.”

Drysso nodded, then turned back toward the viewport. His assessment of Antilles’s tactics had been correct: the man opted to send part of his force to Thyferra. The fact that the freighters had been waiting at the edge of the system indicated that Antilles had indeed anticipated their strike.
Even with freighters and the War Cruiser in support of his operation, he can do little to hurt Thyferra. His troops will be tired because of the journey and unable to fight well. Moreover, once I destroy this station, I can return to Thyferra. I will arrive shortly after he does and pounce on his forces, destroying
them. The gravity well will buy him some time, but not enough
.

Drysso pointed to the holopad. “Yesti, open a comm channel with the station. Lieutenant Rosion, bring us to range and have us hold there, please.”

“As ordered, Captain. Engines, all stop.”

Terrik’s image appeared again on the
Lusankya
’s bridge. “I notice you have stopped, Captain Drysso. Do you have surrender on your mind?”

Drysso smiled. “I do. Yours.”

Terrik’s anticipatory smile faded into puzzlement. “I guess you think we don’t want to fight. Believe me, we do.” Again he gestured to someone outside the image area and a much heavier tremor shook the
Lusankya
. “As your people will tell you, we’ve just powered up all of our tractor beams and have them on you. You can try to break free, but if you do, I’ve got to see a man about a guarantee he gave me.”

“You better hope he works fast. Rosion, engines full back. Break those locks.”

“Can’t, sir. Helm is sluggish and those beams are very powerful.”

Drysso snarled at Terrik. “You give me only one choice.”

“Good. The terms of surrender are …”

“No, you fool, my choice is your complete destruction. Weapons, all bear on the station. Fire on my command!”

“Emperor’s black bones!”

Drysso whipped around and spitted Lieutenant Waroen with a harsh stare, but his aide remained engrossed by a monitor and missed it. “What is happening, Waroen?”

“Sir, we have multiple proton torpedo and concussion missile sensors locked onto us.”

“How many?”

“Many, sir, over three hundred.” Waroen looked up. “We’re dead, sir.”

Drysso turned back to the viewport and imagined the rippling fire of three hundred proton torpedoes and concussion missiles smashing into his forward shield. Under that onslaught it would collapse and the missiles would begin nibbling away on his ship.
And that’s only the first volley
. The
subsequent volleys would consume the
Lusankya
utterly and completely.

With Drysso’s vision of disaster came the crumbling of his plans for the future. The
Lusankya
was the key to everything, but he’d been tricked. Antilles had anticipated the strike at the station. He had set up a trap to destroy the Super Star Destroyer.
Even if I do shoot and eliminate some of the launchers, some of the tractor beams, all that will get away will be a severely damaged ship
.

Drysso hesitated and that hesitation should have lost him his ship and his dreams.

Two kilometers off his bow, the
Virulence
lanced upward, eclipsing the station. All of a sudden the Imperial Star Destroyer began to shrink, but it was only when he saw stars flashing back into sight at the corners of his vision did he realize why it was disappearing.
They’re not destroying my ship, we’re speeding away from the station—engines are still at full reverse. The
Virulence
broke the locks by interposing itself between us and the station
.

Drysso smiled and tasted sweat in the corners of his mouth.
We’re free of the trap Antilles laid for us. He thought he had found a way to destroy us, but he did not. Now we get to spring a trap on him
.

The
Lusankya
’s Captain turned to face his bridge crew. “Rosion, plot a course back to Thyferra, as fast as we can get there. Yesti, send
Virulence
our thanks. Tell them their sacrifice will be remembered—a sacrifice that allowed us to destroy Wedge Antilles and hasten the Empire’s rebirth.”

Waroen looked up at him, disbelieving. “We’re not going to help them, sir?”

“They’re just doing their duty, Lieutenant.” Drysso’s mouth soured with the fear of ever engaging the station. “We now go to do
ours.
”

36

By the time the
Lusankya
reverted to realspace, Captain Drysso had constructed a complete rationalization for his actions. He knew it was just that: a thin fabric of facts, circumstances and lies that would probably crumble under Isard’s scrutiny. The fact remained, though, that he needed an explanation, and it was the best he could come up with.

It all started with the premise that Antilles’s station would kill the
Lusankya
. This he knew and had the sensor reports to back it up. Isard herself had made it very clear that preserving the
Lusankya
was vital, so disengaging when given the opportunity to do so was the only choice he had. With the station being as heavily armed as it was, the only prudent course of action would be to cordon it off and let the inhabitants starve until they chose to surrender.

Once disengagement had been mandated, the next course of action had also been obvious. He had sensor reports to indicate Antilles, the War Cruiser, and dozens of freighters had headed out for Thyferra. That was a much larger taskforce than Isard had anticipated being used against Thyferra. Only by returning home at flank speed could the
Lusankya
be in position to destroy that taskforce. In fact, it
seemed rather obvious, that without the
Lusankya
’s help, the Thyferran Home Defense Corps would be overwhelmed.