Star Wars_ X-Wing 02_ Wedge's Gamble - Michael A. Stackpole [117]
Then something odd happened. The gravtruck tipped up at the front, spilling two stormtroopers from the walkway and tossing those in the back from their feet. A half second later the thing that had made the driver shy hit the front end of the gravtruck and exploded. The concussion of the blast shattered more windows and obliterated the gravtruck’s cab. Beyond the floppy-limbed tumbling of broken stormtroopers, Gavin saw the gravtruck begin to break apart and slip from sight.
A sleek snubfighter shot up past their level, then came back around and flew directly toward the building. Though not as elegant as the next generation of starfighters, the black with gold trim Z-95 Headhunter came as a welcome sight to Gavin. Its blasters started blazing from each wingtip and sliced fire through the building’s central core. Sparks shot from ruptured electrical conduits and water gushed from shattered mains. Walls evaporated beneath the assault, and of the stormtroopers who had been following them, Gavin could see no trace.
The Headhunter pulled back as a long black repulsorlift vehicle rose into place. Wedge got up and ran toward the window even before the gull-wing door to the vehicle’s passenger compartment had fully opened. He waved the others forward and Gavin followed, but kept an eye on the downed stormtroopers and the central core to protect against further trouble.
“Gavin, go.”
“After you, sir.”
Wedge laughed, then winced. “Go, it’s an order.”
Gavin tossed his blaster carbine to Pash, then leapt into the vehicle and jammed himself between Erisi and the Trandoshan. Wedge followed and the vehicle dropped away from the building. Wind whistled in through the closing doors, and it wasn’t until silence again reigned that Gavin heard the driver’s voice. Once he did, Gavin recognized it and found the shocked look on the other Rogues’ faces mirrored his own surprise.
Wedge nodded toward the driver’s compartment. “Yes, Emtrey, I am hurt, but it’s not serious.”
Gavin shook his head and poked a finger in his right ear to try to clear it. “How can Emtrey be here?”
Rhysati nodded. “And who’s flying the Headhunter, Commander?”
“Tycho.”
Gavin’s face froze as his emotions went from elation to suspicion and the despair of betrayal. “How? He was killed at Noquivzor.”
Wedge shook his head slowly. “No, he wasn’t. The raid was real, but neither he nor Emtrey was there. Whistler was logging reports for both of them to make it appear like they were there. Both of them were actually here.”
Iella raised an eyebrow. “You brought them here, why?”
“There are two things I’ve learned in the Rebellion. The first is that what any of us thinks is secret is really information that can be used to purchase other, more valuable information. If it were deemed expedient and useful for our presence on Coruscant to become common knowledge, say, to show a potential ally that we are taking steps to take the world, that ally would learn we were here. It would only be a matter of time before that information got into Imperial hands and we got into trouble.”
Nawara nodded. “The fact that we were sold out today lends credence to this idea.”
“And that brings me to my second point—the opposition can only plan to handle those things they know about. Tycho has been here as long as the rest of us have and has been working for me. I wanted one sabacc card that wouldn’t change value on me and he was it. He’d been to Coruscant inside two years ago, knew how to get around, and, as we saw just now, has turned out to be very useful.”
Emtrey’s clamshell head swiveled around to the back. “Captain Celchu indicates we have no pursuit and are clear to our hideaway. He also has a message for you.”
“Link him through.”
“Wedge, I’d save this, but it’s time-critical.”