• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“No.” Face knew he looked shaken and hoped Grinder’s program was up to having Darillian show the same expression. “At the next stop in my mission, I’ll pretend to jump out, then lie in wait for them. I’ll destroy them.”

“Yes. But not yet. I have a more important mission for you.” Zsinj smiled. “You’re going to help that fool Trigit finish off the survivors of Folor Base.”

Once everyone was reseated at breakfast, Piggy asked, “Can the Alliance muster enough firepower to Morobe in time to take out Implacable?”

Wedge nodded. “That firepower is in place. We know which system Trigit’s going to strike, even though Zsinj, with his customary caution, hasn’t told us yet. If Zsinj were going in himself, we’d have to draw so many frigates, cruisers, and Star Destroyers away from other duty that Zsinj would be alerted … but, fortunately or unfortunately, Iron Fist isn’t joining in this mission.

“We do have a real problem, though. He told our Captain Darillian to make rendezvous with the supply ship Hawkbat to replenish expended fuel and supplies. And to pick up a load of surveillance satellites we can deploy at our next scheduled stop so they can acquire data on our ‘pursuers.’ He also says he wants the Hawkbat’s master to come over for an inspection tour of the ship and a talk with Darillian.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Kell said.

“Also, if Night Caller is participating in the battle at Talasea, Zsinj is probably going to expect us to field our full complement of TIE fighters. Which is supposed to be four, not two.”

“The TIE fighters are no problem,” Falynn said. “They’re all over the galaxy. Set the Wraiths down on any planet and we can steal two and fly them back.”

“Speaking of which,” Janson said, “we have two more TIE pilots if we need them. Both Captain Hrakness and Lieutenant Tabanne are Imp Academy graduates. He’s done simulators and soloed, and she actually flew a few missions.”

Wedge tried to keep any emotion from his face. “Kills?”

“No. Only since defecting and joining the New Republic Navy.”

“Good.” One of the problems with the New Republic was that many of its pilots had literally and violently been at odds in the past. It sometimes caused trouble when a pilot now under New Republic command had shot down other New Republic pilots. But some people Wedge absolutely trusted had been Imperials: Tycho Celchu, current leader of Rogue Squadron; Hobbie Klivan, who had defected with Biggs Darklighter and the rest of the crew of the Rand Ecliptic; even Han Solo had been an Academy graduate and briefly an officer.

“The rendezvous is no problem,” Phanan said. At Wedge’s curious look, he said, “We simply need to get to the rendezvous site and say, Oh, no, we’re all down with the Tastiged Flu. Sure, come over. Hope you don’t mind when we have sneezing fits all over you and infect you.’ ”

Wedge shook his head. “We’re dealing with an enemy who is proficient at intelligence work. I think that a sudden inconvenient contagion would tend to alert him.”

Face smiled. It was a crooked smile better suited to a member of Black Sun, the criminal underworld of Coruscant. “What if it’s not us who gets contaminated?”

“Go on.”

“Zsinj transmitted us the Hawkbat’s current schedule so we could arrange a rendezvous at our mutual convenience. That means we know where they’re going to make planetfall over the next several days. We choose the planet where they’re most likely to be offering shore leave; we send the Wraiths over there; and we expose them to some sort of disease. Then it’s the Hawkbat’s captain who has to report we couldn’t meet physically because of an ‘inconvenient contagion.’ Zsinj can investigate all he wants … because he won’t be investigating us.”

Wedge rubbed his chin and resisted the urge to say, “That’s crazy.” Instead, he asked, “Where do we get the contaminants?”

Phanan said, “Every modern planet has a hospital, Commander. Some even have centers for disease containment. One of those would be a street market of disease for us.”

Wedge