Star Wars_ X-Wing 02_ Wedge's Gamble - Michael A. Stackpole [15]
As Ackbar spoke, the planet dissolved into an image of Isard. A tall, slender human woman, she still seemed possessed of the vitality that the Rebellion had begun to sap from Mon Mothma. Isard wore her hair long. Except for white sidelocks, her hair was as black as night and served to accentuate her severe beauty.
Her most striking features became apparent as the image shifted to a close-up of her face. Her eyes were mismatched. The right one was an icy blue that had contributed as much as her demeanor to her nickname of “Iceheart.” By contrast the left eye was a molten red. Wedge felt a shiver run down his spine just looking at her hologram—and he had no desire to make a closer acquaintance with her.
Ackbar continued. “Despite her not being from a military background, she has, in no way, allowed the defenses of the Imperial homeworld to slacken. Outermost we have Golan Space Defense stations. They are comparable in power to a Star Destroyer. They are not mobile, so eliminating them from a section of the sky over Coruscant will give us an area in which to operate, but eventually all of them will have to be neutralized.
“In addition to these defense stations, there are approximately seven Victory-class Star Destroyers on station at Coruscant. There are ground-based fighter groups as well as the fighter wings stationed in and around the ships, shipyards, and orbital factories. The orbital mirror stations and low-orbit skyhooks may also have been armed.”
Ackbar clasped his hands behind his back. “As formidable as all that is, the primary problem in taking Coruscant is the overlapping defense shields.”
The image of the world had long since returned. As the Mon Calamari had described aspects of the defense, representations of them appeared in orbit around the planet. With his mention of the defense shields, two spheres constructed of hexagons appeared to encase the world. One moved in the direction of its orbit, the other moved in the opposite direction. The neon-blue latticework shrouded Coruscant and occluded any good view of it.
“To take Coruscant we must eliminate the shields. There are a number of ways to do this, but none of them is simple. A direct assault would cost us more dearly than both Death Star battles combined. I think the only reasonable approach to taking Coruscant is to blockade the world. It is hardly self-sufficient—even the defense stations only carry three standard months’ worth of provisions. Faced with dwindling supplies, a negotiated surrender would be possible.”
Mon Mothma frowned. “The problem with a blockade is twofold. The first is that it would keep our fleet at one place for an extended period of time. This would allow Isard to recall the Imperial fleet to drive us off.”
Ackbar nodded. “Or it could encourage naval officers in far-flung regions to sever their ties with the Empire, breaking it up further.”
“Giving us many warlords like Zsinj to worry about.” Borsk’s words came so softly they seemed almost purred. “Pinning our fleet in one place would also allow Zsinj to prey upon New Republic worlds.”
Ackbar opened his hands. “Yes, what you suggest might happen.”
Mon Mothma raised a hand and cut him off. “The second problem with a blockade is that the people of Coruscant will suffer. My friend, you visited Coruscant when you were with Grand Moff Tarkin. You know there are vast populations of outcasts who dwell deep in the shadowed canyons of that metroworld. They barely survive as it is. If supplies are cut off