Star Wars_ X-Wing 05_ Wraith Squadron - Aaron Allston [94]
“Thanks for the warning. You are a lady and a gentleman.”
She activated the hoist to pull her R5 unit, Chunky, from the slot at the rear of the simulator. X-wing simulators could also simulate astromech interactions, but missions were more realistic if the pilots had their own astromechs plugged in.
Once Chunky was settled on the deck, Tyria glanced at Face’s R2 unit, Vape. “Hey, he’s had a new paint job.” Indeed, the red trim had been replaced with a proper Wraith set of gray stripes.
Face snorted. “That’s actually just a cover for some modifications I’ve had made to him.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “Modifications. A popup screen and a complete set of your holodramas?”
“That’s not such a bad idea. Maybe that will be the next mod. No, this is one anyone can appreciate.” He looked around to make sure no one else was in the lounge. “Vape: cold one.”
A trapezoidal panel on the top of Vape’s dome pulled aside, leaving a hole open. Vape made a noise like an airgun firing. A bottle leaped up a meter from the hole. Face snagged it on its way down and twisted the cap off.
He handed it to Tyria. “Elba beer. Chilled. For you. I’ll have one myself after my sim run.”
She looked at him. “Do you know, you’re getting stranger and stranger.”
He smiled. “Good.”
Things went as Wedge predicted. At least, they did at first.
By the time they reached Belthu, the next world on Night Caller’s circuit, Grinder had already found two likely candidates for Zsinj’s contact: the chairman of the coalition of mining company presidents who effectively controlled the wealthy colony world, and one of the board members, president of the second-largest corporation.
The New Republic Intelligence team on-planet was too newly arrived to offer much information of value. However, Face’s routine communiqués with planetary officials bore fruit.
The chairman of mining company presidents spoke with “Captain Darillian” and helpfully provided a price list for the world’s latest stockpile of ores. The other suspect, the company president, privately let the disguised Face know that a shipment of refined durasteel awaited the arrival of Zsinj’s next bulk cargo hauler. Wedge transmitted that data to the Intelligence team.
After Night Caller jumped out of system, General Cracken’s people spent a day tracking down the site where the unrecorded durasteel shipment waited. Rather than sabotaging or stealing it, they simply noted its location. They also delivered Grinder into the corporation headquarters and helped him ferret out details of the transfer, to another false Zsinj identity, of a small, somewhat outdated durasteel foundry. Two days after Grinder rejoined the Wraiths, the Intelligence team blew up the foundry.
The next stop in sequence was not a settled world; in fact, the planetary system had only a number designation, M2398, in the New Republic and Imperial records. Without any ordinary way to smuggle agents into the system, General Cracken had chosen not to send in a team.
Despite the fact the system was supposed to be uninhabited, Night Caller’s records clearly snowed a stop here, though there was no mention of contact with local authorities.
Night Caller jumped to a position well outside the orbit of the outermost planet and took sensor readings on the M2398 system. Within minutes they had trace communications emissions from a moon of the third world, a gas giant featuring a beautiful dust and asteroid ring. The transmissions were coded, but Jesmin, in the comm center, cracked the encryption in a matter of minutes. She called it in to Wedge, who was pacing the bridge, to the amusement of Captain Hrakness. “Simple mathematical substitution,” Jesmin said. “It’s probably only good for one battle or so, just long enough to keep their enemies from knowing what they’re saying.”
“Put it on,” Wedge said.
First there was a hiss of static over the comm unit, then a man’s voice. “How is it, Guller? Cold?”
A pause, then another man’s voice. “Shut up.”
Pause. “I mean, I know it’s cold. But is it just cold, or is it really cold, or is it your-parts-are-numb