Star Wars_ X-Wing 03_ The Krytos Trap - Michael A. Stackpole [65]
Urlor landed a hand heavily on Corran’s right shoulder. “Imps would have us believe Rogue Squadron is dead and gone. Died at a place called Borleias.”
“Sure, in some Imp’s lum dream.” Corran turned, slipping from beneath Urlor’s grip, so he could see both men at the same time. “Rogue Squadron did get hit hard at Borleias, but that was more the product of bad intel going in than it was anything the Imps actually did to us. The fact is, though, that inside a month after we got bloodied, we were back and took Borleias away from the Imps. And, from there, we staged for the invasion of Coruscant.”
His smile grew broad as pride swelled inside him. “Rogue Squadron went into Coruscant and managed to bring the shields down. I don’t remember much, but I know our fleet arrived and I was evacuated by Isard as she fled the planet, so I have to figure the New Republic now rules Coruscant. It’s ours.”
“It is yours because we gave it to you.”
Corran looked to his right, toward the doorway, and saw an obese man squeezing his way through it. The tunic, which was black like the man’s thinning hair, could barely contain the man’s bulk. Anger filled the man’s brown eyes for a second, then melted away as he straightened up and tugged at the hem of his sleeves. “You inherited a sick world, a dying world.”
Jan bowed his head in the heavy man’s direction. “This is General Evir Derricote, late of Imperial service. He is the ranking Imperial here among us.”
Corran immediately realized that a secondary reason for the lack of titles among the Rebel prisoners was to allow them to further differentiate themselves from the Imps in Lusankya. “I’m Corran, and I was at Borleias.”
“Then you saw me smash the little invasion fleet you sent against me.”
“Yeah, I did, and I lost friends at that battle.” Corran balled a fist and arced it toward Derricote’s bullet head, but it never landed. Urlor lunged forward, grabbed the collar of Corran’s tunic, and hauled him backward. Corran’s feet left the floor and the canvas rasped against the flesh of his armpits as the big man held him up. “Hey! That hurts!”
Urlor kept his voice even. “There’s a rule—if we beat up on Imps, the staff here beats up on the Old Man.”
What I almost did. Corran’s mouth hung open as if to let the twisting sensation in his stomach a chance to escape. He nodded once and Urlor put him back down. Corran turned to Jan and bowed his head. “I won’t let it happen again.”
“Spirit is good, Corran, very good.” Jan coughed lightly into his hand. “The general here was the one who told us of Rogue Squadron’s defeat at Borleias. He left out your apparent return and victory.”
Derricote sniffed. “Had I still been on Borleias there would have been more Rebel blood shed.”
“Not likely. We pinpointed the power generator at the Alderaan Biotics facility and severed the conduit that sent the auxiliary power to your shield generators and ion cannons. A handful of TIEs survived our second raid, and those pilots surrendered when they flew home and found their base in our hands.” Corran shrugged. “And as for Coruscant, the fact that you use the word ‘inherit’ to describe what we did, well, it means that the world is ours now. It might be sick, but it’s better off in our hands than it ever was in yours.”
“I doubt the dying think that.”
“I doubt the dying blame the Rebels for their problems.”
Derricote shrugged, and a shiver ran through the layer of fat around his middle. “It does not matter to me who they blame. When the histories are written, this shall be but a momentary disturbance in the Empire’s epic.”
Jan rocked to his feet. “That will be up to the historians to determine, won’t it, General?”
“When I get out and put together my memoirs, you will fare well, Jan.” Derricote ducked his head and slid his body back